Someday I will get something done
Without a child stuck to my hip
Hands glued to my knee
Eyes saying,
“Mama, mama, pick me up.”

Someday when my hands are free,
I will get something done.

Don’t you know, little one?
There’s a world of work
Out there to be done-
Emails, crises, meetings to handle,
Laundry, dishes, errands to settle.

There’s a world of Important work to be done,
Don’t you know, little one?

Someday, perhaps, I will see,
All these moments of just you and me,
My lips in your hair,
You twirling with flair,
Were the makings of Important
Dreams to set free.

Your arms I caressed,
Your smiley mess,
Those cheeks like a rose,
And that round little nose,
That I blew and I wiped and I squeezed and I kissed,
Will soon be the makings of
Legacies, missed.

So the days I’d wished I could get something done,
Have actually been all these days clothed in fun,
Between that quiet suckle,
And tying your buckle,
Were Important moments
Under the sun.

Someday when my hands are free,
I’ll have time without you- just me.
I’ll have time for emails to write,
Important people to meet,
Maybe even have eight hours of sleep.
I’ll be important to many again- that’s quite true,
But still, none as Important as I’d been to you.

In a twinkle and a dum, you’ll be grown,
And we’ll see the fruit of great seeds sown.

Today I got some Important things done-
I held your heroic hand,
I kissed a stout heart on the mend.
These seconds and minutes and hours of loving,
Will one day be seeds to an oak tree that’s growing,
For hundreds and thousands and millions of hearts,
To give shade and respite from the world’s fiery darts.

With hands that aren’t free,
A child glued to my hip,
What many Important things I’ve done

With you.


Love, Mama

Seven years ago, I had a dream but buried it.

It was too embarrassing, too outrageous. After all, who did I think I was?

I was little 24 year old girl from Singapore, a country that’s literally a tiny dot on the world map. My name “Wai Jia” was, still is, un-pronounceable to many people. I confess that I had wondered before- what kind of destiny could be found in a name like that? 

But above all, I struggled with shame.

Shame that I had a problem. Shame that I was about to graduate as a medical doctor then but had become a patient.

Most of all, shame because people had told me, “Don’t let anyone know because they’ll say things,” which I interpreted as “Your story does not matter. YOU don’t matter.” 

Struggling through medical school and other family challenges at the time, I first used exercise to cope. But before I knew it, an insatiable pain gnawed at me. I lost my appetite, and what was a harmless thing became an obsessive control tool I used to cope with life. The sicker I became, the less hope I had.

The worst part was wondering, was God really real? Did I even have the right to doubt that? Yet I did. In my darkest times, I did.

During my recovery I painted a series of drawings and but when it was time to publish it, I people told me, “Don’t do it. What would people think of you? Are you a doctor or a patient?” 

I was afraid. Afraid that I would shame my family, my friends, the medical community. Afraid that no one would read this book and confirm that I did not matter.

But God said come. And against all fears, He gave me the courage to step out.

I learned, that courage is not the absence of fear, but stepping out in spite of it. I learned, that faith is not the absence of doubt, but believing in spite of it.

Little did I expect that one day, against all odds, God would send me on 3 unexpected scholarships to Johns Hopkins University to pursue a Masters in Public Health- not because I was smart or capable… because in that room of scholarship applicants, I was probably the only one with a transcript filled with Bs and Cs because of my illness through medical school.

Yet I’m standing here today, speaking with you, fulfilling an incredulous dream I had 7 years ago to speak in America about Hope, because a woman who organized this conference called me one day, because her friend who was the sister-in-law of a faculty member at Johns Hopkins had walked into my professors office and picked up a copy of my book, A Taste of Rainbow, by accident and decided I needed to share my story in America.

We serve an amazing God. He never forgets the littlest of our dreams.

And when God brought me to America, He opened doors for me to pursue another lost buried dream of starting Kitesong Global, an international social venture that uses the power of narrative to inspire people to pursue their dreams and empower underprivileged women and children.

One day, as I watched the sunset and wrestled with a sense of lostness, I asked aloud, “Has this all been a mistake?”

For the first time in my life, I then felt God tell me the meaning of my name.

The background to this is that I’ve always hated my name. When I was five, I went to class telling everyone my name was Christine because I didn’t want the embarrassment of being called something no one would remember or say right. Friends who made friends first were those with easy, catchy names. So imagine the fit I kicked when my older sister went to school and rightfully informed everyone that my name was most certainly not Christine. How prophetic, that back then, I never knew that Christine meant “follower of Christ.”

As I watched that sunset, I felt God speak to me, that the meaning of the first character of my name 蔚wei describes the splendor and majesty of the sky, and 佳jia describes goodness and excellence.

There and then, I heard Him tell me, “Wai Jia” is a reflection of what He wants Kitesong to be, a reflection of God’s goodness displayed in majesty and splendor across the skies.

You might hate your name, you might hate the very essence of something so integral to who you are and think you can never be apart from it. But that very thing that you despise, could very well be the thing that God wants to show forth His glory.

Have you ever thought what yr name means? Have you ever wondered what it means in Ephesians 1:4 when it says, “Even as he chose us in Him before the foundation of the world….” Doesn’t it blow your mind that He chose us before the foundation of the world began? That He gave you a name with your destiny written in it, and He’s waiting to reveal His purposes to you if you would press in and ask.

Two months ago, I argued with God and said I could never set up an organization in the US. Who did I think I was? This little girl who doesn’t even speak English with a good accent? A lawyer through a friend of a friend of a friend had written an elaborate roadmap for me for Kitesong Global and told me it would cost $6-10K to set up. There and then I threw in the towel and said, “No God, I can’t do it. So there.”

A week later, an elderly friend drove four hours through a snowstorm and showed up at our doorstep and gave me a lecture in our living room. I will never forget his words, “If God heard your little prayer as an 18 year old and raised more than $100K to build a children’s home in Nepal, if He raised $100K for you to come to US for yr further studies against all odds, can you not trust Him for $10K?”

The very next morning, while our friend was still in our home after we had breakfast, I received a phonecall from someone who wanted to catch up. I didn’t solicit, never advertised, never shared it on my blog, and there and then when he demanded to know what I was up to and why I wasn’t registering Kitesong in US, he said over the phone, “I am going to write a cheque for you to cover all the legal costs for you to get Kitesong registered in the States. Keep me updated!”

Friends, God is above and beyond all that we ask or think.

Truly, He does not need perfect people. He wants people who are willing to step out of the boat when He says come. He wants people who are willing to surrender and yield to His wind when He says go. He wants broken people, like you and like me to be a display of His goodness in the skies.

So go, give your littlest dreams to Him and fly.


– Excerpt from the keynote closing speech at the HFH Summit in Nashville, Tennessee in June 2018. 

Thank you Cliff, for being the amazing husband and father you have been.

And to God, for making Incredulous and Impossible, Incredible.


When I threw that dream away, I thought to myself, “So this is what it means, when they say marriage is a shackle.”

I should have expected it. After all, his proposal came at the worse possible timing, just as I was sending in my application to pursue further studies in the States. A year later when I reapplied, God led us to serve in Uganda. Having already spent hundreds of dollars on two university applications that I never submitted, I decided that that was over.

One day, at an award ceremony where an Afghan woman shared her experience building schools for girls in Afghanistan, I had a vision. It was a vision of our whole family in the States. I laughed and dismissed it.

But some nights later, I had a dream. I dreamed that I was flying a kite, and the kite fell. But Cliff ran to get it, and retrieved it for me.

In the dream, he said he would help me fly the kite again.

Little did I realize how prophetic that dream would be, how truly, you have always been a husband with a shepherd’s heart, laying your life down for me, for your family, for your sheep so that we can grow, thrive and flourish.

Because of your unwavering patience, selfless sacrifice and shepherd’s heart, I graduated with awards and honors as a mother and started an international venture because of your faith in me, even when I didn’t believe you. The truth is that, every one of those awards belongs to you, too.

As I walked across the stage, the entire year flashed before me as I saw you waiting at the school entrance carrying Sarah-Faith, a tiny pea in a sling back then, for me to pick her up to class with me; I saw you playing with blocks and cleaning up at home so I could focus on school; I saw you humbly, servantheartedly ensuring all my needs were met- from paying my tuition fees on time to clearing the trash-so I could go to school with an unrivaled focus.

It reminded me of the time a classmate told me with tears in her eyes, “ 你是黑暗中的光芒。(You’re a light in the darkness),” and I almost teared too because I replied, “That’s exactly what Cliff prays for me every morning before I step out of the car.”

It reminded me of all the times you sneaked handwritten hallmark cards into my bag before major tests or when I was feeling low. It reminded me of all the times you said I could do it even when I said I could not, when I said God made a mistake on me.

After the award ceremony, people asked me what my next plans were. Tongue in cheek, I replied with a cheeky smile, not untruthfully, “I’m going to be a stay-at-home mom and support Cliff as he’s just accepted a position as a pastor in Canada.” Some gasped aloud or laughed out loud before realizing I wasn’t really joking after all and apologized profusely- “I’m sorry, it’s just that… what?”

Now that you’re the Executive pastor of a church in Canada, our roles have been completely swapped. I’ll admit, that the transition from being a Type A personality in an intense program to now supporting you behind the scenes has its challenging, tear-jerking, handwringing moments. Yet, every time I have to bring Sarah-Faith out so that you can work or attend a meeting, reminds me of all the times you had to mill around a corridor or mall or library or mother goose program because I had to meet my professor, colleague or attend a conference call.

I am learning- that marriage is no shackle. It may seem so for a little while, in that very moment you wonder why you can’t be out doing some other amazing thing in the world.

But I’m learning, that I can find as much purpose as giving a talk to distinguished professors at Johns Hopkins as I can in waiting for you at the aisles of a drugmart while you finish a meeting nearby, because I know it furthers your calling in God, because I know it’s what you did for me when I studied and ploughed and went up to receive 5 awards and lapped up everyone’s congratulatory wishes, while you wiped and cleaned and waited countless of hours and changed hundreds of poopy diapers when nobody could see or pat your back. There were days you drove from home to school and back three times a day just so Sarah-Faith could nurse from me between classes. Sowing into my life was hard work at times, but you did it because you saw it as more than a job, but a calling to further my calling, too.

When you received this job offer, I was overwhelmed with joy. I never told you, that when I was 18, I prayed to God that I would someday marry a pastor. When I married you and it wasn’t so, I just kept this secret prayer in my heart, folded like an origami love letter to God. He never forgot it.

So seeing you now in your element- organizing, learning, pastoring, leading, connecting and teaching, for once being recognized as “Cliff” and no longer “Wai Jia’s husband” or “Sarah-Faith’s Dad”, has warmed my heart in more ways you know. While the world may shake their head and say what a waste this season of my life might be, I know for sure that it’s as filled with meaning as it was when you were there for me, too. Even now, you’re constantly thinking of ways for me to flourish in a land I feel like a fish out of water in, and pursue my calling to build Kitesong Global, write my next book, or enroll in non-profit leadership courses. And even though we’ll be living out of suitcases for a while, moving from home to home in the next few weeks, I’m thankful to be doing this with you.

As much as people may say that having a spouse or child can hinder one’s progression in life, I know I would not be where I am today without the both of you.

For all the times you bent down and stooped low to pick up my lost kites, thank you for mirroring marriage as how Christ loves the church, for showing me how much joy there can be in surrender, and freedom in marriage.

For the wonderful husband and father you are, Happy Fathers’ Day.

Your Wife, forever.

Happy Fathers Day

*This post was taken from Cliff’s social media post on 22 May 2018.

For a long time, Wai Jia had dreamed of pursuing a Masters of Public Health at John Hopkins. But I sorta ruined her dreams five years ago when I went to Singapore and asked her to marry me.


However, it was precisely when she surrendered her dreams that God could revive them in such a divine way- only He could have orchestrated our journey here to USA through 3 scholarships.


Yesterday, she also received 5 honors and awards. Many people ask her, even myself, how does she do it? Her reply is that it is not by her own striving or works but it is all by God’s grace.

Today as she graduated, I learned that life isn’t just about God making our dreams come true. Rather, the oneness that comes with walking with God is what causes us to have the same dreams and desires as He does. This has been her experience in the past year.


I am proud of her not just because of her hard work of juggling between being a mother, wife, and student in the past 11 months; I am proud of her not just because of the degrees, awards, and honors she achieved at John Hopkins- I am proud of her because of her surrendering, the closeness in her walk with Christ and the blessing she has been to others.


Not only did she receive an academic excellence award for the top 10% of her cohort, she also received the Excellence in International Public Health Practice Award for her work in Kitesong Global, and a Student Recognition Award, nominated by friends and faculty. It was funny to see her and Sarah-Faith go up so many times to receive them!


I learned from her that however lofty and noble our dreams may seem to be, we must lay them down before the feet of Jesus. Oneness comes from surrendering our dreams, and surrendering is a strength, not a weakness.


Congratulations, my wife! 

Grad pic


At school today for our capstone (mini-thesis) presentations, our entire cohort gathered together for lunch and a class photo.

As friends gathered around Sarah-Faith, a classmate of mine approached Cliff intentionally and said, “You know Cliff, I really respect you. It’s so evident that you’re a great Dad and husband. It’s not easy, and… you’re amazing.”

As awkward as it might have seemed, it moved me greatly. Because it wasn’t the first time men in my class had told me that Cliff was a role model to them, as a dedicated father and husband.

For all the times Sarah-Faith and I received added attention, there was him quietly loving on us, showering us with His love so we could thrive, grow and flourish. 🌷

Truly, to a man who comes back with flowers every time I send him out to have some “me” time to recharge from all his duties in study, husband-ing and fathering… My greatest Mothers’ Day present is knowing we have you. ❤️

Thank you.


Even as I prepare for graduation soon, Sarah-Faith seems to be preparing herself for her own milestone by starting to walk this week!

Thanking God for the year gone by-

what a whirlwind!



I was freaking out.

What was I doing? What did this mean? It was just ridiculous.

A day before the event, with my slides and script in hand, I felt like hiding under a stone. I went to my professor and told her this was all a mistake. Was it too late to back out?

After being nudged to do so by two mentors, I had submitted Kitesong Global as an application. I was certain I would hear nothing back.

But I did. And for the final selection round, they required a 2-minute presentation followed by a 3-minute Q&A.

There was no way I would ever be able to share the story of Kitesong Global in 2 minutes. But worse, I didn’t want to subject something so dear to my heart to the scrutiny of a panel of judges. Kitesong Global wasn’t just a practicum project, a thesis or the blueprint of a non-profit venture.

It was my life.

I didn’t want it to be graded, critiqued on, awarded or not awarded based on the KPIs strangers thought I had hit or missed. I know, it all sounds ridiculous- an award cannot and does not validate or invalidate who I am.

But it was far too personal.

Awards would be given to “outstanding public health practice contributions, in recognition of a practice effort that has made or has great potential to make a sustained impact on a health-related outcome.”

Kitesong Global was none of that. Some days, I am not even fully convinced I did the right thing.

Some days I still wonder, “Did I waste my degree here on this?”

The thought of it was unbearable. I wanted out.

My professor convinced me to stay, “Take it as an opportunity to tell the judges how much being here has helped you.”

We were asked to invited friends, family, colleagues to attend. But I didn’t want anyone to come. So I did not.

As the other candidates presented their slides and got grilled at the podium, my mind went blank. With my stomach churning, I went up, expecting to be asked about the sustainability, feasibility, scalability and over-the-top idealism Kitesong Global reeked of. Who was I kidding, really?

“Stop all of this- the world doesn’t need Kitesong. It was just a book an 18-year old wrote. Keep it that way,” came the flashback of an ex-mentor’s phonecall. This would all have been a farce to him.

But the judges didn’t ask those questions. Instead, they asked me to share the story of each book, how I expected each story to make an impact, and how much they are needed, not just in low and middle countries, but in America too.

As I got off the podium, I felt like retching. So close was I to tears I had rush out of the hall.

As I listened to the other candidates share about the groundbreaking things they were doing in public health, I knew I was out of place.

Up to now, I don’t have grand plans- I don’t have a fancy evaluation model, a sure-win funding mechanism, an impressive blueprint. When people ask me how Kitesong Global is going, I genuinely mean it when I say, “I’m still praying.”

People have suggestions on what Kitesong Global could do to be bigger, better- social marketing, advertising, this and that… and I often feel so small and foolish, thinking, ” That sounds really great, but God didn’t show us this or that way.”

At least it was over.

This afternoon, the results were announced. Kitesong Global received the Excellence in International Public Health Practice Award.

As I teared, I thought about the many times I had felt foolish and fluffy, the many times I had lost my words when someone asked me for my slick elevator pitch, when I wondered why I could not dream the dreams I wanted to but could not.

I was reminded of what happened two weeks ago, when an American lawyer wrote to me to say she was committed to seeing Kitesong Global registered in the States. I asked her how much it would all cost- about $5-8000, a figure that made me laugh out loud then cry myself to sleep. That night, with my head on my pillow and Cliff’s arms wrung around mine, I said “I quit.”

This was all a joke anyway. In a few months, I would be out of the States. All of this was plain illogical. Who would help me run the organization, do bookkeeping, file taxes? I know nothing about those kinds of things, still don’t.

The next morning, on a cold, white morning, a billowy snowstorm snowed us all in. No one could go out. The entire woods facing our home was cloaked in a magical white. And there on our doorstep, God sent us an angel, an aged, wise missionary friend we had met in Singapore, who had served 15 long years in China and had now moved back to the States, who drove hours just to spend the day with us, just to catch up.

I will never forget his words, “If you could trust God to raise more than $100’000 for the Children’s Home in Nepal when you were 18 years old, and that same amount for you to come to Johns Hopkins to do your Masters degree and provide for your family, can you not trust Him for $8000? Can you not?”

The next morning, as the snow melted quietly, he came for breakfast. A phone call disrupted our conversation. And as I ended the call, my face was washed white, as I shared that just over the phone, someone unexpected had called and offered me a cheque to help underwrite these costs of setting up Kitesong Global in the States. I had not solicited, not advertised, not written a thing about this on my blog or an email.

I was speechless.

I am learning, that just because I don’t understand what God says, I have no right to determine that He must be mistaken. I am learning, that it is haughty and precarious, even, to think that my obedience to His directive would dishonor Him. I am learning, that when I am befuddled by my own foolishness, God has a different way.

Exactly a week later, as I began to process this craziness, I read from Oswald Chambers, “Are you debating whether you should take a step of faith in Jesus, or whether you should wait until you can clearly see how to do what He has asked? Simply obey Him with unrestrained joy. When He tells you something and you begin to debate, it is because you have a misunderstanding of what honors Him and what doesn’t. Are you faithful to Jesus, or faithful to your ideas about Him? Are you faithful to what He says, or are you trying to compromise His words with thoughts that never came from Him? “Whatever He says to you, do it” (John 2:5).”

I am still, learning.


“But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise;

God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong…”

– 1 Cor 1:27

Thank you to Cliff, my professors, classmates and those of you who have believed in Kitesong. Thank you for helping Kitesong fly.

* If you feel led to be involved with Kitesong in any way, please drop us a note at We are praying for people to help with web/graphic design, photography, videography, bookkeeping, social media and more.

“Saya boleh tahan (I can withstand it).”

One of the most difficult things I’ve embarked on was a series of in-depth interviews with foreign domestic helpers caring for elderly patients with dementia.

While we have seen specific cases highlighted and punished for elderly abuse, many of us have never heard the silent stories of being spat upon, cursed, hit, soiled on, by patients who are ill, day after day after day.

In an aging society where elderly care is continually being outsourced, have we failed to recognize and appreciate the sacrifices made by people we have invited into our homes, no longer as housekeepers, but as companions to our ailing loved ones?

In the face of extreme circumstances, many of them continue day after day, “saya boleh tahan” (I can withstand it), because “I see Ah Gong (Grandpa) like my own father. I know he dementia, old already.”

Those who do not know about the illness, plod on nonetheless, through the sleepless nights of shouting, door-banging, wandering and aimless pacing… which are some manifestations of the illness in its severe stages.

Is it a paradigm shift we need? That perhaps, the privilege and responsibility of caring for our elders remains ours to own as a family and society. That perhaps, there is more we could do to support them, and alleviate the mental burden they carry in this challenging role as caregivers?

Let us appreciate the vital role our helpers play, and recognize the resilience, compassion and dedication they display, to help us care for those we love.

With special thanks to my mentors and friends, for believing in this.

Published in The Straits Times, Singapore, 31 Mar 2018.



I knew I had blown it.

On the other line was someone I couldn’t believe was calling me… and there I was dumbfounded.

With her being the ex-marketing director of American music bands like Delirious from Nashville and Founder of an NGO organizing a big conference coming up in June, I desperately wanted to impress.

I was certain it would be useless. After all, she had never even met me. I was stuttering. I spoke in an accent that was difficult to hear. Why would she even trust me?

As I ruined the moment with stuttery ahs and errs, she finally interrupted me, “OK so, what will you be speaking on next week at Hopkins?”

“What? You mean next week on Sarah-Faith’s birthday at the Kitesong Launch?”

This time, I knew it was over.

At her conference, were leaders in the field speaking about therapy, clinical recovery and counseling. Celebrity singers were being featured. Now that she had found out I was from Hopkins, I was certain my answer would be a letdown.


As soon as the word left my mouth, I cringed.

I had seen people cringe at the word before, associating me with being fluffy and of no substance. In my mind, I saw her shaking her head, face-palming at her waste of time on a phone conversation with me, one which had taken a long time to coordinate.

Instead, she went wild.

“Seriously?! Because I have ALL my speakers lined up for the event and I’m missing the keynote closing speaker whom I want to speak on Dreams. You’re the person I’ve been praying for all this while! I’ve read your story, now I’ve heard your voice. You’re coming to Nashville! And I want your husband to come speak to us on marriage too! You both HAVE to come!”

Suddenly, at that moment, a million memories, fragmented like broken glass through the years of pain and darkness, became mirrors that reflected the sun’s infinite light.

That week, was the final week she was finalizing speakers for the conference. Had we been connected a week later, it would have been too late. She was connected to me through her psychiatrist friend, who was the sister-in-law of a faculty at Hopkins who found out about my burden to help women with eating disorders when she accidentally picked up a copy of “A Taste of Rainbow” displayed on my professor’s desk at her office.

I know. It could only be God.

For so many years I had grappled with the meaningless of my experience with depression and anorexia. Besides making a good news story, I often saw little meaning in it. I kept filing it away, determined to bury this dream of trying to help others. Although people approached me for advice occasionally, either for themselves or loved ones, things often stalled once they found out I did not have a miracle answer, and the way out was a journey of faith and courage to seek help.

Uncannily enough, on International Women’s Day, when women around the world were being celebrated, I received the finalized flyer for the conference, and a link to an online support group for people suffering from struggles with weight and identity.

As I saw my name printed on the brochure, I thought of the thousands of women like me who struggle with this silently and publicly, daily and continuously, to small and debilitating extents, as they are sold the lie that one can never truly be free of the bondage of comparison and worthlessness.

I thought of the many whose stories of freedom and hope continue to await to be written because within the very same box which the enemy has tried to keep them in, lies the very key to the very destiny that God has called them to, to set other captives free.

This month, as millions of women around the world are being celebrated, you might know someone struggling with an eating disorder or self-esteem issue and feel at a loss as to how to help them. You know it’s not an issue about vanity, but identity. You know there is hope, if only they would reach out.

You are not alone. For years, I struggled with how to reply the desperate voices struggling to find help for their loved ones, and struggled to find resources.

Today, something that I’ve only dreamed of being a part of exists.

If you know someone longing to find the freedom that she deserves, tell her that she’s not alone. If she’s in America, encourage her or go with her to the conference this June in Nashville- it will not be just an event, but a life-changing milestone.

And if she’s unable to, share this online support program with her. Wherever she is around the world, and at whatever stage of struggle she’s in, there is hope. She is not alone-

This June, Cliff, Sarah-Faith and I will be in Nashville speaking on the miracles in marriage and the hope of freedom. We hope to see you there.


“And it will all be wasted.”

Seven years ago on this day, those words hurt like pelting hail.

As the news reporter threatened to ditch the interview story unless I provided her with more sensational details, I stood my ground on truth.

But after having published Rainbow, a book which was meant to raise awareness of eating disorders and depression among youth, after my own recovery from depression and anorexia, it felt like it had all gone wrong.

The calls persisted till midnight.

“If you don’t tell me more, our paper won’t run your story. Your book will be a waste.”

At the age of 24, it was then I experienced one of life’s deepest, most existential fears- to even think, that the pain and struggles we experience, have all been for nothing.

Back then, with hands holding a tear-stained face, I remember wondering what a way it was to turn a year older, with the weight of failure and hopelessness upon me.

In the following years, Rainbow was shared with patients in a few clinics, occasionally at schools, but nothing more. Because of its limited reach in Singapore, its impact hardly grew.

As I received the occasional email from a parent struggling with a daughter with an eating disorder that was killing her slowly, I would hope it could bring them some encouragement.

But a big part of me ached to do more.

One crazy day, I dreamed of speaking in the States, for Rainbow to make a deeper impact among women struggling, on a larger, global scale.

Call it stupid. It was.

Fast forward seven years later, here in USA, God rekindled the dream for Rainbow to be used to bring hope to those struggling with depression and issues with weight, self esteem and identity. But as I knocked on several doors for partnership opportunities, none opened.

I remember sitting in front of a well-known specialist at her office, praying nervously that after having knocked on so many doors, that perhaps she would consider using Rainbow for therapeutic programs for her patients.

“Your book is very nice,” she said. “But I have no use for it. Look at all these books people give me for my patients. Yours is not special.”

I walked out of that office in that famous hospital that day, wondering if it had all been a mistake.

Rainbow was useless. What a stupid dream.

Who here would listen to me speak anyway, with my localized Singaporean accent. I’ll never be a good speaker, at least never for an American audience.

I grappled with God sending me to the States. Really? Did You really spend more than $100’000, orchestrate three impossible scholarships and create this inexplicable block of time for us to come all the way to the States… just to start Kitesong Global? Seriously? And I can’t even seem to find open doors for the books. Is it not a waste, God?

At times, that’s all our struggles seem to be- expensive, exhausting, and altogether meaningless.

Yet, perhaps we often forget, that only the passage of time and the trust of hope allows the dusk to melt into dawn, and for treasures gleaned in the darkness to be shared in the light.

A week before the launch of Kitesong Global on Sarah-Faith’s birthday, just as I was preparing my talk called “A Chance to Dream,” I received a phonecall from a woman, a conference organizer from Tennessee, who was the ex-marketing director of renowned Christian bands like Delirious.

It was an abrupt phonecall, connected by a friend of a faculty member, who had chanced upon Rainbow when she picked it up in my professor’s office.

” I want you to come and speak at my conference this June. Come to Nashville. Talk about Dreams. Talk about Kitesong. Talk about Rainbow and how God healed you to do what you’re doing today. Will you be my keynote speaker? Will you come?”

As I stood speechless, it suddenly dawned upon me, that just when we think that our pain has all been for naught, God has His timing. And His timing is perfect.

The truth is, we all have been created and called to a purpose far greater than we know. Yet, for most of our lives, until we arrive at the crossing of preparation and opportunity, our lives will seem fragmented, lost, and at best, meaningless.

Yet, God never forgets our dreams. He never does because before the passage of time, He created them, us; He had called us each by name, and put those dreams in our hearts before time began, pulsing and burning with a longing for eternity.

A few days after that phonecall, as Cliff drove us through the most beautiful sunset, I started to ask God what my life was meant for. That if I were a candle, what would the flame my life was laid down for be used to bring light to?

And right there in the sunset melting into a million hues, He reminded me of the meaning of my name: 蔚 (Wei/Wai) which describes the splendor and glory of the skies, and 佳 (Jia), goodness and excellence.

And as I watched the sky melt into the glimmery twilight, I started to tear as the full meaning of my name came to me- the display of God’s goodness in the sky.

That was what Kitesong stood for, what its purpose is, and what my name means.

He had written it before time began, before my birth 31 years ago before this day.

So often, we think our pain has been for naught, a thought that exemplifies our pain further.

Yet, do we not realize that very often, before arriving at a sense of destiny, that perhaps, our entire lives are a series of preparatory steps, a probationary rehearsal waiting and anticipating for something greater?

People often look at the awards and accolades of others and think, “Oh wow, what a success.”

But the preceding years, decades even, before that point of convergence, where the nexus of passion and purpose meet, is a painfully mundane and seemingly purposeless course called preparation, waiting patiently in trusting hope for a spark called opportunity, to catalyze it into God-ordained Purpose.

At the Kitesong launch, I was surprised to see eyes filled with tears as I shared my talk- as people related to the stories of this universal, unexplainable thing called pain, so inextricably tied to our purpose. And just yesterday, as a I led a young woman who had come for the Kitesong launch to Christ, she shared with me the bizarreness of her pain. It was a pain I could relate to, without which I would never have heard her heart.

I am learning- that what the enemy tries to rob from us, is often the very thing God has planned for us to triumph over, to bring victory into the lives of others.

As I turn 31, I thank God for the seemingly senseless pain in our lives, that finds its purpose in His hope. I thank God for you for journeying with us through those moments, and for exulting in the joy He gives us when our pain turns to purpose.

Because that is only pain worth living for, the kind that never goes to waste.

Here’s sharing the video-recording of the message at Sarah-Faith’s birthday and the Kitesong launch:


Thank you once again for journeying with us.

We are always looking for people whose hearts are longing to make a difference.

If you have a gift, however small-

writing, photography, videography, reaching out through social media, teaching etc,

and you would like to

take a risk to be a blessing through Kitesong Global,

please write to us at


Team Tam