Storms that Wreaked Havoc

My parents fled to Hong Kong during the civil war between the Kuomintang and the Communist Party. My father made a living as an author, having the financial burden of the family on his shoulders. At that time, the manuscript fee was Hong Kong $5 per 1,000 words, and half the fee went back to the newspaper editor. So, our family was poor! Because of the Second World War, my mother had only gone to the second grade in school. After Japan invaded Hong Kong, she had to stay home to take care of the old and the young.

I was born in 1950, the eldest of four sons. When I was about six years old, my mother became pregnant with her third child, and because of poverty, my father told her to have an abortion. After drinking the abortion herbs, she started to bleed heavily. I came home from school, saw an ambulance parked in front of the door and mom’s blood covering the bed. I was terrified! The paramedics carried my mother away, and my grandmother told me that she had been taken to the hospital for emergency treatment and that she might not survive. Abortion was illegal in Hong Kong at that time, so my mother lied, saying that she had fallen hard. My father was not around. He had left my mother alone in the hospital to fight for her life.

Like a miracle, my mother’s bleeding stopped, and the fetus was still safe. My third brother was eventually born, and he was healthy in all aspects. Growing up, he was the most well-behaved child among us brothers. His school grades were always the best. He later became the first Christian in our family and also the son who cared the most for our father.

When I was about eight or nine years old, my father started a small business selling cosmetics. As a very young boy, I had helped my father deliver manuscripts to the newspaper. Now, I took care of sales orders, delivery, bill collection, etc., traveling between Hong Kong and Kowloon. I was like a little adult—a child without a regular childhood.

Once our family’s situation improved, my father fell in love with his company secretary, and our family was not at peace anymore. At night, we children often heard our parents arguing and objects being thrown around. It was always frightening. One day, my mother and I were walking in the neighborhood and saw my father and the “mistress” at the intersection. Mother dashed forward, pointed at the secretary, and cursed. In the chaos, the two of them pushed and pulled, with my father protecting the woman! The whole scene attracted crowds of passers-by. I was very embarrassed! This dramatic event is one I will never forget.

Another day, my grandmother came to me and said, “Your mother is leaving! Go, beg her to stay!” I immediately rushed into my mother’s room with my three younger brothers. We saw her crying and putting her clothes in a suitcase. Dad was trying to force her to leave by not giving her enough living expenses. The four of us knelt on the floor, crying, and begging our mother not to leave us. The fourth brother, still a toddler at that time, did not understand what was happening, so he only cried with everyone in confusion. As for me, sixty years later, this scene is still vividly etched in my memory. I was twelve years old.

Mom finally decided to stay with us children, but Dad moved away. After that, he gave a small amount to us for living expenses. With Dad gone, the house was quiet although, occasionally, he came home for dinner to check our academic achievements. His mood was never good. Except for the third brother, all of us had terrible academic scores, so we were beaten one by one. We didn’t welcome him home in the first place, and now we hated him even more.

To say the least, my childhood was painful. Children of broken families often fall prematurely into the vortex of adult strife. When my father moved away, he stopped talking to my mother. When there was a family matter that must be communicated, he called me to the office and asked me to bring a message to my mother. My mother did the same, instructing me what to say when I met with my father. When my father was in a good mood, he would show his love and take me to a restaurant. I was happy because I could enjoy delicious food that I did not get at home. But often, I would feel ashamed and guilty. Because of what he had done to our family, I felt I should hate him, not eat his food and talk with him. I was very confused and had contradictory feelings.

In my teens, I began to rebel, not wanting to be at home with my sad mother every day. I often stayed in my classmates’ homes and did not fulfill my responsibilities of being the eldest brother.

Eventually, when her demands for marriage and money were not met, my dad’s mistress left him. Still, our father did not come home but stayed in another apartment. The third brother was five or six years younger than I and was very well-behaved and obedient. When he transferred to another school, he and his classmates went to a church near the school. He attended Bible study classes and believed in Jesus Christ. Later, he moved in with my dad in his apartment and developed a good relationship with him. At that time, my father was in his fifties and had heart disease and some anxiety problems. This third brother took our father to church, and later in life, our father believed in Jesus and was saved by His grace.

Storms of My Own Making

After graduating from high school, I went to the United States to study at the University of Wisconsin, graduating in three and a half years with a bachelor’s degree in chemical engineering. I then transferred to Columbia University, where I earned a master’s degree in bioengineering and a doctorate in chemical engineering. At this point, I was very self-confident, believing totally in myself.

I was grateful to be living in the United States and learning American values and culture. Although hippies were popular at the time, the overall ethos remained conservative. When I visited my American friend’s home, I was moved at how harmonious and respectful his family was to each other. They also cared about society, which made me feel ashamed. I would often go to the library to read the biography of Dr. Sun Yat-sen whom I admired, and who was a Christian. My college roommate was also a Christian. He helped dispel my prejudice about Christianity. Sometimes I agreed to attend a Bible study with him, but only for the purpose of getting a free dinner. I never gave attention to what was being taught.

When I was studying at Columbia University, one of the courses I took was “Artificial Organs.” The professor used engineering principles to analyze the various organs of the human body and talked about how to design artificial organs. I saw the inadequacy of human technology because human minds are so prone to making mistakes, often endangering the patient’s life. Towards the end of the semester, the professor made a comment I will never forget. He said: “You see, the organs designed by medical doctors and PhDs have many problems. The original designer of our organs must be truly amazing!” Whether the professor was a Christian or not, I did not know. At that time, I didn’t know anything about Christianity, but intellectually I felt that there might be a Creator. Emotionally, however, I wanted Him not to interfere with my life and let me go my own way.

Before I got my PhD, I had written eight scientific papers and a book on bioengineering. I also had a girlfriend who was smart and capable. She had excellent grades and was studying at Barnard College. We got married in 1976. After both of us finished our degrees, we moved to New Jersey. I worked for Becton Dickinson & Co., Hospital Products Division, as a senior research scientist. She worked for IBM Sales as a systems engineer. We had a rich material life—cars, big house, no shortage of anything.

In 1977, my father believed in the Lord Jesus and returned home to reunite with my mother. It seemed that everything was going well on both sides of the ocean. My career was thriving, and I was valued by the company. Our company was the world leader of hospital products, and I was invited to join the R&D Department researching new products. The vice president appreciated my boldness, not commonly seen in Asians, and wanted to pave a road for me to the top. I was even eligible to use the company plane for business trips, a privilege I never dreamed of. I was just 27 years old.

When everything was going nicely and smoothly, the biggest storm of my life hit. My wife told me she had fallen in love with her colleague. Soon after, she filed for divorce and ended our three-year marriage. It hit me hard. What had happened to my mother was now happening to me! What had I done wrong? Why was life so messy? I was very angry!

More Storms to Come

Around that time, the second and third brothers called one after another, saying that my father had lung cancer and only a few months to live. We decided to bring him to an American hospital for radiation treatment. I took a month off from work to take care of my dad.

This was the closest time I had with my dad as I spent 24 hours a day with him. Since he repented and put his faith in the Lord Jesus, our mother was relieved, and she accompanied my dad to the US. We reunited as a family and spent long hours talking about the past. Dad was open, recounting his early life experiences and his conversion to Christianity. My brothers and I got to know more about him. For a whole month, we watched my father receive treatment and face everything calmly. After the radiotherapy, the doctor announced that his condition was stable, and he could return to Hong Kong to recuperate. Unexpectedly, two months after returning to Hong Kong, on September 12, 1979, my father was taken to heaven by God.

At that time, I was faced with a big decision. My father’s company was old and had many problems, and there was no one to take it over after he died. My mother needed the company for her livelihood. So, I resolutely put aside my American career, sold everything, and moved back to Hong Kong at the end of 1979. Returning to Hong Kong was to revisit the place where I grew up. I returned with mixed emotions. In the US, I had high academic and career achievements, and I worked with highly educated people. Hong Kong was a world of difference. The business environment was hypocritical. People I met were rude, and they bargained endlessly for small profits. Coupled with my mother’s refusal to move out of the old home place, I had to sleep in my childhood room again. It felt as if I had been relegated to my original state. Unpleasant memories followed, as if I had fallen into a time tunnel and traveled back to my childhood. Bordering on depression, the only thoughts that kept me going were: “I must support my mother. I must get up tomorrow. I must work hard!”

Showing filial piety to your parents comes with a blessing—a promise from God. I did not know God then, but His Word was true. Because I stayed with my mother, I met my current wife. She was a simple person, hardworking, and from a poor family. Before she came to our company, she worked in a garment factory during the day and went to evening school. After finishing elementary school, her father made her work to earn money to help support a family of eight. Meeting her was like meeting another version of my mother. She didn’t have much education, but she was hard-working and had a good heart. At this time, I was no longer proud, nor did I value my degree and talents. My first marriage taught me to value a person’s internal beauty and character. I was attracted to this gal’s inner beauty, and she was also very beautiful. After dating, we married in 1981.

At Sea with Christ at the Helm

In December 1982, I returned to the United States with my wife. At this time, the company was on track, and our products were gaining market share. My fourth brother had graduated from college, and I let him inherit our father’s business. We chose to settle in San Francisco, but I could not find a job. My old colleagues in New York asked me to work there, but I didn’t want to put this stress on our marriage. While jobless in San Francisco, our first child was born. With the pressure of starting a family and struggling to start my career from zero again, I started to have depression. I was angry with my fate and despaired about life. I knew that I could not sink any lower, so I sought counseling from a psychologist who, fortunately, advised me to go to church and find a support system.

In early 1985, my third brother, who was a mathematics professor in Maryland, came to visit and brought me a Bible. He explained the teachings of Christ and the hope Christ could bring. I had always thought I was smart and that only the weak needed religion. But when I read the book of Proverbs, I realized that I was the foolish person. The Holy Spirit opened my heart to understand that the God of the Bible is the One True God who created all things in heaven and earth. He showed me that I could not be wise on my own but must seek wisdom from God. In 1985, my wife and I decided to profess our faith in Jesus at the same time and were baptized together on Easter.

To us, believing in Christ was very simple. It meant that we were giving up our own mastery and turning the sovereignty of our lives to God. When I studied “artificial organs” at Columbia University, I believed in God rationally, but I loved the world. I wanted to control my own fate, thinking that I would be able to do great things with my own wisdom. There’s a story in the Bible of the disciples fighting the strong winds and waves with their professional sailing experience. Yet they could not reach the shore until Jesus came to them at sea and commanded the wind and waves to calm down. They suddenly realized and accepted Jesus’ divine status and sovereignty. In the same way, Jesus opened my eyes to see who He really is. God saved my third brother and through him, brought my father and me to Jesus—to salvation and new life. It was my father who wanted to prevent my third brother being born. But with great mercy, God saved my third brother from abortion and eventually let him lead my father to salvation. And he also gave me the Bible that led me to Jesus. What amazing grace!

After believing in Jesus, I pursued Truth with all my heart, determined to hand over my life to the Lord, and no longer rely on my own wisdom to pursue fame and fortune in the world. God also healed me from depression. I was able to set up my own company to engage in international trade. After we had children, my wife devoted herself to raising our children, went to community college to finish secondary school education, then transferred to a four-year university to earn a bachelor’s degree. I accompanied her to school, helped with raising the children, and did household chores. Amazingly, my wife went into accounting and passed the CPA exam in one sitting. She later entered the workforce and advanced up the corporate ladder, all while we were both enthusiastically involved in church ministries. In 2004, I met Pastor Thomas Wang who invited me to help set up the Traditional Family Coalition, an organization established in 2005 to strengthen and protect the family as defined by the Bible. It is amazing that God would use me in this way. I have been involved in debates, interviews, speeches, political campaigns, and court trials. These were sometimes stormy—sometimes face-to-face with opponents—but I have always felt secure under God’s protection.

What a wonder the life of a believer is! Before, I was like a sailboat adrift in the wind and waves. Now, I have Jesus as the center of my life, and the foundation is built on the rock of Christ. My heart is at peace and my family situation reflects warmth and stability.

Psalm 37:23 is true in my life! “The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him.” Praise God!

Bill Tam is currently the executive director of the Traditional Family Coalition.