From Buddhist to Lutheran: It started at a rodeo.

I am MIT: 100 percent Made In Taiwan. Growing up in Taiwan, I was raised to believe that I was a Buddhist.

However, I never even studied Buddhism. Unlike the Bible, there was no Buddhist holy book to read. So I called myself a Buddhist, but I only had a vague idea what that meant.

Growing up Buddhist

My parents would take me to temples from time to time for worship. We burned incense. We presented offerings to the Buddhas. But as I looked around, I could see all kinds of different gods housed in the same temple. So when I held the incense to pray, I wasn’t sure who I was praying to. I also remember being terrified of the graphic paintings and sculptures portraying the 18 levels of hell. The images of people being tortured in hell by demons gave me nightmares. I did not feel loved or protected by the Buddhas. What I felt was the constant pressure of being watched, judged, threatened, and terrorized.

Buddhists believe in reincarnation: If you do good things in this life, then in the next life you’ll be rewarded—reborn healthy and beautiful and rich. One of my Buddhist friends in the United States had polio, but his parents insisted that they were good people in this life and the doctors must have been wrong about his diagnosis. They refused to get him treated. Good Buddhists should also be vegetarians. If you have had meat, then expect to spend your next life reincarnated into that animal. You are what you eat. I felt that I had to do good things to please the Buddhas so I could eventually break off from the endless cycle of reincarnation and earn my place in heaven. But I couldn’t ignore the fact that I had failed miserably in the life I was given. I was afraid that in my next life I’d be a pig and live in the mud.

Discovering Christianity

My baby brother, Matthew, was the first person in my family to become a Christian. He immigrated to Canada in the late 1990s to give his daughter a better life. There, in a country where he did not know anyone, he found friends among a group of Taiwanese Christians. Through them, he began to attend church services and Bible studies.

Eventually, Matthew was baptized and became a devout Christian. He even shared God’s Word with his wife and her family. Generations of devoted Buddhists were baptized and converted to Christianity. He didn’t force his faith upon them, but the Holy Spirit was at work. It was extraordinary! They used to have a shrine in their living room, but they replaced the Buddha statue and the shrine with a cross. They had devotions every day and attended Bible studies and Sunday services as a family.

However, Matthew never preached to me or tried to convert me. He knew his sister well. He knew that if he approached me, I would run away faster than Speedy Gonzales. But he trusted fully in God. I think, somehow, he knew that eventually I too would come to believe in the only true God.

In March 2012, we got an urgent phone call with the news that Matthew was in the intensive care unit (ICU) and his condition was grave. At this point, my family and I were living in Fresno. We booked flights and were with him in a matter of hours. The doctors couldn’t tell what the problem was. Matthew had gone to the emergency room because he couldn’t breathe. Then, in the ICU, he fell into a coma and never regained consciousness. Matthew passed away on March 19, 2012. I lost not only my baby brother but also my best friend. I was devastated.

I remember that while Matthew was in a coma, the members of his church would come to the hospital and pray for him. I was struck by their warmth. Their love for God and neighbor felt so genuine. They invited me to hold their hands and kneel with them. And I listened while they prayed. I was moved.

On March 25, 2012, Matthew’s best friend invited me to his house for a group devotion. There I asked if I could be baptized. Matthew’s friends were overjoyed. Without delay, I was baptized. With tears in their eyes, they told me that I was now Matthew’s sister not only in this world but also in the faith.

After the funeral, I returned to Fresno, ready to find a church home. But it didn’t happen. I did not really feel like I belonged anywhere. And those who tried to reach out to me made me want to run the other way. So I didn’t end up going to church for years.

Struggling to find substance

Fast-forward to April 2023. I was still unchurched, and terrible things started happening at work. With all the stress, I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I was crying all the time. I felt helpless and alone in the world. It was the worst time of my life. I had to face a tough decision: Leave the job I loved and was good at after 33 years, or stay in a hostile work environment.

Late one night, I drove to a mega church and sat in the empty parking lot. I fixed my eyes on the huge cross illuminated atop the church building. I prayed, “God, if you’re there, I need your help.” I think God heard me, because I felt better. A feeling of calm and peace washed over me, and I could think clearly again. I decided to retire from my job and to start looking for a church home. In hindsight, I know that was part of God’s good plan for me.

I attended Sunday worship at several mega churches, but I really didn’t like their services—with their bands and singers on stage. I thought to myself, If I wanted to hear amateur singers, I’d have just gone to a karaoke bar! I wanted to hear God’s Word. I wanted to flip the pages of my brand-new Bible. I went to their Bible studies and was equally disappointed. They didn’t explain, “What does this mean?” Instead, they asked, “How does this make you feel?” But I hadn’t even been taught how to think or feel! I didn’t know how to read my Bible. I just wanted to be taught.

Flourishing through God’s Word

For months, I searched. I went from one church to another—from one disappointment to another. One day, in April 2024, my neighbor invited me to join her in the VIP box at the Clovis Rodeo. After some food and drinks, she said she remembered that I was searching for a church home and there happened to be a pastor in our box. That was the first time I met Pastor Eric Zabell. My first impression was, “No way he’s a pastor.”

He looked like a handsome young cowboy.

After a brief conversation, he invited me to attend a new Bible information class that was starting. I was not fast enough to think of an excuse to refuse, so two days later I reluctantly dragged myself to the church. I told myself that if it was another fuzzy-by-the-campfire-singing-kumbaya, sharing-your-feelings type of gathering, I would waste only one evening. When I arrived, I was given a binder of lesson plans, information, questions, homework, and more. I was ecstatic. That was exactly what I’d envisioned a Bible study should be like. I was actually studying the Bible!

After Bible class, Pastor Zabell invited me to church on Sunday. Again, I was not fast enough to come up with an excuse to refuse. When the time came, I was greeted at the door by nice gentlemen. They handed me a bulletin with welcoming smiles. I was a bit nervous to be there on my own, but Pastor Zabell arranged for a sister to sit next to me, which was a big help. There was no band, no karaoke, just the pure joy of God’s Word. I was extremely impressed and happy. I loved that Pastor Zabell wore a robe. I loved the structured traditional worship. My first encounter with a WELS church simply warmed my heart. For the first time in my life, I knew that I was loved unconditionally and that all my sins were forgiven. Finally, I could say that I shared my brother Matthew’s love of God.

For the first time in my life, I knew that I was loved unconditionally and that all my sins were forgiven.

The Bible information class was the best class I’ve ever taken. I have never met anyone as patient, friendly, and knowledgeable as Pastor Zabell. Nothing I said or asked was treated as stupid or trivial. He patiently answered all of my questions with a smile. I was mesmerized. His love of God was obvious and contagious. With his encouragement, I started to attend all their other weekly Bible studies: on Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I wanted to learn more about God. The Bible information class was so fun that I didn’t want it to end after ten weeks. Thankfully, Pastor Zabell spent extra time with my group and turned it into an in-depth Bible study for beginners. Finally, eight months after I started, on Christmas Day 2024, I was confirmed and became a member of St. Peter, Clovis, Calif. I had found my church home.

Looking back, I realize that God was always there with me. He guided and protected me without my realization. One of the first Bible passages Pastor Zabell encouraged me to memorize was Ephesians 2:8,9: “It is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.” My place in heaven is secured, not because I earned it but because Jesus won it for me with his blood.

Thank you, Jesus, my Good Shepherd, for guiding me, a stubborn lost lamb, to become a WELS Lutheran. And to think it all started at a rodeo!

Author: Julie Wen
Volume 112, Number 10
Issue: October 2025