Since young, I have lived with little. So life was the same every day: just waking up, eating at some kopitiam, going to school and going back home. That’s about it.

I didn’t have a phone, I didn’t have a computer or anything, and I didn’t even have any games to play. My father and mother never worked in very high-paying jobs, so what we experienced was really quite simple.

I didn’t travel abroad at all, whether in primary school or secondary school. My allowance was also quite little, so I could only get one meal a day.

In primary school, my meals looked like this: I would just drink water, and if I could afford it, I’d buy a packet of Milo. I would always go to this economy rice stall at school to just buy rice and curry — maybe some potato if I was feeling more luxurious that day.

I didn’t have much in secondary school either. My allowance increased, but only by one dollar, and food was more expensive.

So on a typical school day, my meals would be either chicken rice with no chicken, just chilli for flavour, or economic bee hoon with curry sauce and no dishes. Or I’d just eat Maggi Mee which I would buy from the supermarket.

That was like $2 for five packets, and it would last me one whole week. I was almost malnourished, but I got by. That was my typical meal consistently from Secondary One to Three.

I began to see that my friends around me had more. During long holidays in June and December, they would travel abroad.

I used to go to a friend’s house where we would play PlayStation 3 or Xbox.  But I remember realising along the way that all these consoles and games weren’t mine, they were theirs.

I could only go to their house to play them instead of having something I could call my own.

During their birthdays or celebrations, their families would drive. I remember thinking, “They have a car, my family doesn’t even own one.” They would go to the zoo, eat Haidilao, eat Din Tai Fung or just go to a normal restaurant.

But me? I had never eaten at any restaurant in a shopping mall before. I realised many of them lived comfortably, while I was just living a simple life.

And so I wondered why they could enjoy these simple pleasures, but I couldn’t. How were they able to travel, eat good food and be celebrated, while I was just living and struggling?

Provider

When I was in church during secondary school, I learned about the sovereignty of God and how God is my Provider. But I struggled with that. How can my God be so big — the One who works things for my good — and yet I’m in this circumstance?

My bitterness towards God and envy grew even more because my mind just couldn’t comprehend it. Why was I living so poorly while most of my friends were enjoying life? Why couldn’t that be me?

Unlike many of my friends, I started working young, at Secondary One, when I was 13. It wasn’t that I wanted to work — I had to.

I felt like I had missed out on so many things, and that feeling really held onto me. Sometimes I even hated myself for it. I would ask God, “If I were born in a richer family, would it be better? Would my life be more enjoyable if I simply had money?”

There were times at home when I broke down because I couldn’t bear the burden of not having enough money. Thinking about the future scared me — if I didn’t have enough now in secondary school, what about later?

I also wondered why my friends had it so much easier, and no one could really relate to me.

My perspective on life started to change when I began discovering who God is.

That was when I started to really read the Bible and ask questions about Him. I realised that the life Jesus lived wasn’t grand or full of many things. My Saviour lived a simple, even lowly life. And so I discovered a connection with Him.

I realised what makes Jesus grand is not what He had, but the love He showed on the Cross. That began to challenge my thinking, maybe circumstances and what I have don’t determine the value of my life. Just like God, it’s about the love shown.

Instead of constantly making comparisons, I decided to be grateful that God is with me — and I came to the conclusion that that was enough for me.

maybe circumstances and what I have don’t determine the value of my life… it’s about the love shown.

Things changed quite drastically when my church started a new initiative and there was an opportunity to give toward it.

At that time, I only had $14 a week, but I felt led to give. I remembered reading about the poor widow who gave two copper coins. Jesus said she had given more than anyone else. I thought, “I don’t have much, but if the heart behind it is all that matters, then I’ll give.”

So I chose to save $7 every week, leaving me with $1 a day. I wanted to give God my offering because I was convicted that if He really matters to me, and if my circumstances don’t define my faith, then I should give to the One who saved me.

When I gave the sum, it really was quite a lot and it meant everything to me. Giving that amount was symbolic of me giving my all to God.

The posture of my heart in that moment was to please Him. And I felt that if I call this church my home, and believe that this is God’s calling for the church, then I will give — even if it’s little. 

That same year, there was a youth camp, but it was too expensive for me. I had already given my allowance, and I didn’t know what to do. I prayed, “Lord, I’ve given my all to You… but now I’m stuck.”

Then during one service, there was a surprise segment where they invited people to share about finances. Somehow, I was called up. After sharing my story, they gave me a free ticket to the camp. God heard, and He provided!

The following year, I needed to buy textbooks, and I was stressed, especially since I had less time to work due to church commitments. But God provided again. My leaders and friends gave me their old textbooks. That was one of the biggest blessings I received.

The world says security comes from holding on, but I gave up what I had to God — and He provided for me in return.

While I was giving, God was providing for me. It’s very different from how the world thinks. The world says security comes from holding on, but I gave up what I had to God — and He provided for me in return.

To me, contentment doesn’t come from luxurious living, big events or money. Contentment in Christ comes from knowing that God has saved me. His providence has been so evident in my life and I think the biggest reason why was because I learned to surrender. 

Looking back, I realise that even though I don’t have much, I was never in lack. And that’s okay, because I have learned to be content with that.