From the time I was young, whenever I made a mistake, my mother would express her regret at “picking me up” into the family. 

I knew these words were merely expressions of anger, but they still had an impact on me and left deep scars in my heart. 

One of very few photos Catherine has of her childhood. She is carried here by her adoptive mother (left).

In addition, I often received hand-me-downs such as books and clothes from rich relatives. Because of that, they would label me “rubbish dump” or “trash”. 

When I was 8, I was at a Christmas party at a relative’s house when one of my younger cousins shouted at me, “No one wants to play with you. You do not belong here. You are not even your parents’ child!” 

This led to a fierce argument among my parents and their relatives. It was the day I came to know that I was adopted. 

This terrible shock further deepened my feelings of being unwanted and abandoned.

My father worked overseas as a chef and he would only come back a few days in a month. He had multiple affairs, which caused many fights between my parents.

I often witnessed my mother’s emotional breakdowns: She would express the desire to attempt suicide and take me with her. Likewise I would sit by my window wondering if I were to jump 12 floors, would it end my pain? 

Whenever my parents fought, I would retreat to my room and hit myself or bang my head against the wall, hoping that physical pain would suppress my emotional suffering. But it never worked. 

I grew up feeling bitter, unforgiving, and full of anger.

A love she never experienced before

At the age of 15, a friend invited me to church on Sunday. At first I was apprehensive, but things changed when the service started. 

During worship I found myself tearing. I enjoyed and loved the atmosphere – I didn’t understand at the time it was the presence of God.

When the pastor preached, I remembered nothing except him saying that God loves me so much that He sent His son Jesus to die for me, and that He has washed me clean of all my sins.

At the age of 15, Catherine (centre) stepped into City Harvest Church and felt love for the first time in her life. Today she is works full time in the church, where her parents now worship with her and her family.

When he gave an altar call I lifted my hand straight up, and walked down the aisle to receive Jesus into my life.

For the first time, I experienced what it meant to be cherished and valued. When my cell group celebrated my birthday, it was the first time in my life that anyone had celebrated my birthday with me. 

Since I was young, my mother would bring me to the temple every weekend. I remember how lonely I felt sitting and walking around, looking at the statues and feeling fearful.

Church was very different. Praying and worshipping drew me into a personal relationship with God, not a one-way relationship. God would speak to me through the Holy Spirit. When I read the Bible, His thoughts were revealed to me. It made me feel God is very real. 

Also the friendships I had with my cell group members were genuine and precious.

Punished for becoming a Christian

Finally, I confessed to my parents that I had become a Christian and was going to church. I could not keep lying to them that I went out on Sundays to do projects.

My father was anti-Christian. He stopped talking to me from that moment. For years, he would lock me in or out of the house weekly. He would change the locks every Saturday, forcing me to wait outside until dawn when my mother would finally let me in.

A rare photo with her adoptive mother, taken when Catherine was a youth.

Every Chinese New Year during reunion dinner, I was not allowed to eat together with my dad, who hated me for being a Christian. So I had to eat quickly before the family sat together to eat. It was a painful “punishment” for my Christian faith. 

My father’s threats escalated; he would place a chopper next to the phone and warn me that he would chop off my hands if I ever called my church friends. He cut off all financial support for my polytechnic education and allowance. 

My mother, who was already struggling with depression and panic attacks, became increasingly volatile. She would wake me up at 5am by pouring soapy water on me or using a feather duster to hit me for no reason at all. 

On one occasion, after catching me reading the Bible, she slapped me and tore my Bible apart. 

When I was 24, my mom grew tired of the drama of my dad locking me out every weekend. She told me she had had enough and so my parents gave me a deadline to leave the house, unless I was willing to stop going to church.

So I was forced to rent a room and live by myself. I was working as a pre-school teacher then, and the administrator helped me to find a place.

Despite my fervent prayers for a breakthrough in my family situation, nothing improved for the next 23 years. My father and I did not speak during that time. 

He even declared that he would only attend my wedding if my pastors knelt before him and confessed that I denied Christ. Consequently, my parents did not attend my wedding ceremony. 

After we were married, we would visit my parents once or twice a month. My mom was more open to us, but my dad would totally ignore us. He would carry on reading his newspapers or watching TV. My husband, Adam, would attempt to engage my dad, but his efforts would be met with silence. 

Even when our first two children arrived, my father did not touch or hold them at all. We remained like strangers.

Once he refused to acknowledge her children, but today, Catherine’s father takes every opportunity to dote on his grandchildren.

God had given me the promise that I will be the one to bring my parents and family to Christ. But after so many years of trying and explaining, nothing worked.

So I eventually shelved the promise that if one person in the household is saved, the entire household shall be saved. I dared not confess it or even pray about it.

The work of a promise-keeping God

Everything changed in May 2018 when my mother called to inform me that my father had been hospitalised following a heart attack, and that he required open-heart surgery. His arteries were 90% blocked and he was at risk of a fatal heart attack.

I was heavily pregnant with my third child at the time, but I saw this as an opportunity to reconcile with my father. Adam and I drove him to every hospital appointment and check-up, standing by his side. 

Although my father remained mostly silent, Adam consistently made an effort to engage with him, sharing silly jokes and gradually breaking down the walls between them. 

On the morning of my father’s surgery, we arrived at the hospital at 6am and nervously waited for the right moment to ask if we could pray for him. When he nodded, I felt tears well up as I prayed for him. 

For the first time, my father shed tears, and we embraced.

After not speaking for decades, the wall between Catherine and her father came down when he was hospitalised and allowed her and her husband Adam to pray for him.

My dad experienced many complications and infections following the surgery, which resulted in many hospital visits that went on for a few years.

In late 2018, Pastor Maria Tok, who heads the Dialect Service at our church, visited my father. The moment she prayed, my dad burst into tears. Immediately, Ps Maria boldly shared the Gospel and asked if he would like to receive Jesus as His personal Saviour. There and then, my dad received salvation. 

Pastor Maria Tok (left) visited Catherine’s father and shared the Gospel with him. He received Christ that day.

Witnessing my hardened anti-Christian father break down in tears and repeat the Salvation Prayer was a miracle I never expected. 

Today, both of my parents are saved. They love all three of my children and frequently call to check on us. 

Since reconciling with my parents, Adam and I have made it a priority to create lasting memories with my them, taking them on trips and cruises. These adventures have allowed us to bond in ways we never thought possible, transforming our relationship and filling the gaps of lost time. 

Catherine and Adam with her parents and their son Oak on holiday in Australia in 2022.

Enjoying a cruise together as one big family in 2024.

We now cherish our annual reunion dinners and our gatherings are filled with warmth and joy – a stark contrast to the painful isolation I once experienced.

For many years in her youth, Catherine was not allowed to have reunion dinner with her family. Last year, for the first time, reunion dinner included both her parents and her in-laws.

From a troubled marriage wrecked by infidelity and suicidal thoughts to a loving couple enjoying each other and a family made whole by the Lord.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 (NIV) says that “God has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

This verse serves as a powerful reminder to me that God has a perfect timing for everything in our lives, and that He is at work, even when we may not see it. I can trust in His plan and in His timing. All glory to God!

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