Learning to Rely on God

Looking back on my journey from Taiwan to the United States to pursue my Ph.D. in physics, I realize that God was not simply leading me toward my dream of becoming a professor. Through years of setbacks, disappointments, and intense struggles, He was teaching me, step by step, to rely on Him rather than on myself.

The Weight of the Journey

In 2017, I arrived at the University of Arizona full of hope. I never imagined the years ahead would be defined by constant pressure.

• The Language Barrier: Though I had studied English for years, conversations left me feeling inadequate. Whenever people smiled, I wondered, “Are they laughing at me? Why can I never express myself well?” My confidence slowly faded.
• Financial Strain: Supporting a family on a single graduate stipend in a costly country meant living as frugally as possible. Saving was out of the question; we focused solely on making ends meet.
• The Distance to Church: The closest True Jesus Church was in Phoenix—a grueling four-hour round trip. The physical exhaustion eventually forced me to attend only every other week, filling my heart with guilt.
• Academic Isolation: Doctoral research is lonely and filled with uncertainty. My advisor, facing intense pressure from our corporate sponsors, frequently criticized my lack of progress.

Just when I thought things could not get more difficult, two major trials pushed me into deep despair.

Trials Within the Church and the Collapse of My Dream

The first trial came from within the church. Well-meaning but insensitive comments about my struggles with English, my slow progress, and my inability to attend church every week cut deeply. Some members judged my situation without understanding the four-hour commute or the reality of my financial limitations. Political discussions after Sabbath services further isolated me. I felt like a failure both in the laboratory and in my spiritual community.

The second trial came when the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted our research. Malfunctioning equipment and limited lab access stalled our progress. Desperate for results, my advisor took his frustration out on me. He declared that I was unqualified, terminated my funding during my fifth year, and instructed me to withdraw from the program.

For an international student, this was devastating. Without funding, I had no way to pay tuition. If I lost my student status, I would be forced to leave the country in three months. Exhausted and broken, I poured out my heart on social media. I felt like Peter sinking into the sea, and his words became my desperate prayer:

“Lord, save me.”
(Matthew 14:30)

Though many church members responded with profound empathy and apologies, my faith had weakened, and my heart remained heavy with anxiety.

Doing My Best to Fulfill My Responsibility

Convinced my time in the U.S. was over, my family and I prayed daily as I prepared to say goodbye to my friends. During my final farewell, a friend encouraged me: “Don’t just give up and leave. At least finish what you have started. Do your best to fulfill your responsibility.”

Those words struck a chord. I realized that while I could no longer control whether I graduated, I could control whether I remained faithful to the work in front of us.

I returned to the laboratory, working diligently to organize my years of research so that whoever took over the project could benefit. Amazingly, a month later, my advisor called me in and said, “I’ll continue paying you. Let’s discuss your graduation.” Shortly after, the experimental breakthrough I had spent five years waiting for finally succeeded.

Before graduating in 2022, I gathered the courage to ask my advisor why he had previously told me I was unqualified. He apologized, admitting he had let external pressures dictate how he treated me. He left me with advice I will never forget:

“Don’t be too concerned about what I say or what other people think of you… What really matters is whether you are determined to do your best to fulfill the responsibility entrusted to you.”

With our relationship reconciled, my advisor strongly recommended me for a postdoctoral position at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). I was stunned. A student who had felt like an absolute failure was now entering one of the world’s most prestigious universities.

God’s Guidance Beyond My Expectations

At MIT, surrounded by some of the brightest minds in the world, the old pressures and self-doubt returned. During this time, God comforted me through Scripture:

“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
(2 Corinthians 12:9–10)

I realized that much of my anxiety came from worldly competition. As a Christian, I did not need to define my value by being better than others. I only needed to do my best and follow where God led.

When it came time to apply for jobs, I applied to nearly one hundred universities, holding my dream of becoming a professor lightly. To my absolute surprise, I received a faculty offer from the University of Hawaiʻi during my very first application cycle—a feat that had taken my own advisor four years to achieve. Many of my peers had far superior résumés, yet God opened this door.

“‘Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit,’ saith the LORD of hosts.”
(Zechariah 4:6)

Looking Back

For seventeen years, I thought God was leading me toward an academic career. Now I see He was doing something far greater: He was teaching a proud, self-reliant person to acknowledge his weakness and cry out, “Lord, save me.”

Becoming a professor was never the most important thing. The suffering I endured was not designed just to give me a career; it was designed to teach me what faith truly is.

I do not thank God because of my Ph.D., my time at MIT, or my new faculty position. I thank Him because even when I no longer believed in myself, He never gave up on me.

May all glory be to the true and living God. Amen.