A Testimony of God’s Grace

Chieu Yang

            I was in search of something and I did not have the slightest clue what it was.  I just knew one day when I found it that it would be amazing.  Jesus once said, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can move mountains.”  Nothing will be impossible for you” (Matthew 17:20).  One of life’s more daunting, and at times disheartening journey, is one’s search for truth.  I’d ask myself was it real?  Where can I find it?  Does it even exist?  Well, I’m going to keep it real; it would take a lot more faith than a mustard seed.  In fact, it was nothing short of a miracle because I would discover truth in the least likely of places.   The darkest of darkness.  It was in the depths of despair that Grace revealed Himself to me.

            My road to redemption and reconciliation began halfway around the word in Vietnam.  The year was 1974 and it would be difficult to exaggerate the social and economic conditions I was born into.  The devastation and atrocities of the Vietnam War are well documented.  Countless stories of untold tragedies that begs to be told but will remain forever silent.  Persecution by the North Vietnamese Government would be demanded and swift.  Needless to say, the future was bleak for people living in the South who were considered United States sympathizers.  So, in 1978, my parents decided that the risk of capture and possibly death would be worth the sacrifice and price to pay for a better life for themselves and us.  There was no turning back or any guarantees of making it.  After about 4 days out at sea and with water submerging our boat, we arrived at a refugee camp in Malaysia.  As I reflect back on that trip now, I am certain God’s divine hands guided our safe passage to America.  It wouldn’t be the first and certainly not the last time the Lord would deliver me.

            Obviously, my upbringing was not normal. Coming to America meant starting over with absolutely nothing.  We were foreigners in a foreign land.  Immigrants from Vietnam were not exactly welcomed so making friends wasn’t easy, especially if you looked different and didn’t speak a lick of English like my father and mother.  Our American dream started in an apartment complex in Montclair, California.  Circumstances would have been less complicated had it only been my father, but with three young children and a wife to take care of my dad faced many challenges.  Fortunately, we received government support that helped ease the financial burdens.  Nevertheless, it was barely enough to get by, so my father found a job washing dishes in a Chinese restaurant.  After work he would go to night school to learn English while my mom stayed home tending to the kids.  I am mentioning this part of my past because I’m reminded of how much my parents had given of themselves for me which is similar to what our Heavenly Father did for us almost two-thousand years ago at Calvary.  Love is a fruit that sustains, is freely given, and exhibited through actions. 

            I had a difficult time understanding this concept of love.  The love I knew hurt.  I believed love was something that was to be earned through fear and violence.  My first encounter of this love came at the hands of my father.  After long and stressful days at work my dad came home and took out his frustrations on my mother and me.  I can still remember the pain of those whippings like I was some stray dog.  My mother lived in a state of terror as well.  She lost both her front teeth after a beating from my dad.  Another time she was so terrified out of her mind she grabbed a kitchen knife and threatened to stab him if he ever touched her again. In addition to the dysfunction at home, I was also bullied at school and beat up by kids in the neighborhood.  These early childhood experiences greatly impacted how I viewed myself; helped form my identity and shaped my perception of the world.  I felt alone and afraid.  There was no one to come to my rescue.  I thought the only way I was going to survive was to harden my heart.  That meant I had to suck it up like a man and act tough.  I would deal with the heart on my own.  Little did I know I would one day turn into a cold-blooded murderer and spew this hurt onto society in an ugly horrific manner.

            At the age of 17, I sealed my fate and joined one of the biggest Asian gangs in Southern California.  I would abide by the gang code of show no fear, have no mercy, kill or be killed.  It was that simple.  I was a soldier devoted to the gang and the brotherhood.  Nothing else mattered.  The culture of the gang lifestyle is very unforgiving.  You do as you’re told with no questions asked.  It’s a cutthroat environment.  Blood was spilled over territory, drugs, money, power, and women.  Whatever is of value to our gang, we wouldn’t hesitate to kill for it.  To earn the love and respect of my peers and elevate my stature within the gang required two essential things.  First, you had to be down and second, were you crazy enough?  I was both.  Anytime there was something to be done or taken care of, I would be the first to step up.  When we were at war you best believe I would be in the frontlines putting in work.  This earned me a reputation as an enforcer, and also the trust of the older gang members.  They gave me the keys, meaning I was put in charge of a faction in Pomona and this only fueled my ego and pride.  I was becoming who I always wanted to be (in my deranged thinking and distorted reality), feared and respected. I have been involved in a variety of violent criminal acts such as drive-by shootings, car jackings, riots, stabbings, home invasions, armed robberies, extortions, and assaults.  With each act I became more brazen and callous.  To illustrate this point, we were beefing with a rival gang and I considered kidnapping a member of the other gang and hanging him over a freeway pass as a message to anyone who wanted to “F” with us.  I was truly sick in the head and the absurdity of what was going in my head was normal to me.  I was of the world through and through.  Consumed with power, greed, and self.  I was blinded to the destruction and devastation I caused around me.  My life had spiraled out of control, and it was on a course to hell. 

            On the night of December 4, 1993 at a pool hall in El Monte, I committed one of the most heinous and brutal murders ever caught on tape.  It was an execution style killing of a rival gang member.  I ended up shooting him five times as he ran for his life, and then chased him down while he hid under a pool table and shot him twice in the head at point blank range.  But the sickening and disgusting part of it all was never caught on tape.  As I ran from the scene of the murder, the jubilation I felt was indescribable.  I was the man now, and I had reached the epitome of a gangster.  It shames me deeply to say it now, but in order to be held accountable and seek the truth whatever is in the dark must be exposed to the light.  After being on the run for two months, I was eventually apprehended and sentenced to 43 years-to-life in prison which was basically a death sentence at the time.  It was set in stone that lifers did not get out.  Prisoners are considered the scum of the earth and refuse of the earth.  Filth that is to be discarded like trash and put away.  Humanities worst of the worst, and rightly so.  In the 25 years that I have been incarcerated, I can honestly attest these things to be true.  I have engaged in and witnessed unimaginable cruelties men have committed toward their fellow man.  Brutality in its purest form.  Prison in some ways is hell on earth.  It is the devil’s playground where hopelessness and despair are people’s companions.

            I was 21 years old and fresh off the county bus when I came to prison.  Nothing changed (meaning my attitude) except now I had a reputation to uphold and a race to represent.  Being the minority we (Asians) stuck together and tried to survive the madness.  Territories like basketball courts, workout areas, tables, showers, and phones weren’t available to just anyone.  You fought for it and blood was the cost for the right to sit somewhere especially in new prisons, Salinas Valley, where I was first sent.  I spent the first 20 years in here caught up in the insanity and senselessness of the gang lifestyle, and the culture of violence it brings.  Thinking about the future was futile because I never thought I would make it there.  My existence was confined inside an 8 by 12 concrete box where I mattered.  I believed I was no use to my family or society, and I was a disgrace to mankind. 

            Then in 2011 after I was put in Ad-Seg for having a manufactured weapon, something amazing occurred.  I was sitting there in the hole facing another felony charge and felt a sense of death come over me.  I work out and play sports a lot, so I felt fine physically, but something was not right.  I can only describe it as a spiritual corrosion of the heart.  I guess you can say I was a broken man and had lost the fight in me, and ready to throw in the towel. Then suddenly I heard a voice and I wasn’t sure where it was coming from or who said it, but the voice said, “It was never about you.”  I didn’t understand what was happening, but it was very serene and a moment of clarity.  The agony in my heart had vanished and I felt alive again.  There is no doubt in my mind what had happened.  God had revealed Himself to me and I found what I searched for my whole life; the truth.  In Psalm 18:16 it reads, “He reached down from on high and took hold of me; He drew me out of deep waters.”  I didn’t realize it at the time, but God had intervened and saved my life. 

            Three months into my time in the hole, the Asians got into a nasty riot with another race.  There’s no doubt in my mind that had I been on the mainline, I would have been involved and possibly gotten seriously hurt or even killed.  God also prepared me to face the one person on this planet I wanted to get my hands on for a long time.  An old gang associate who turned me in and testified against me in court.  Two months after getting out of the hole, the individual drives up to the yard.  I was walking toward him and somehow, I stopped.  God wouldn’t allow me to hurt this person, and I had every right to because this piece of crap was the reason that I was doing life in prison.   That night I sat in my cell plotting on handling my business and suddenly I heard the voice again.  “This is a test of your faith” it said this time. 

            From that day on, I began my walk with Jesus Christ.  It hasn’t been easy or a walk in the park either.  I dealt with a lot of fear, doubt, and uncertainty, especially with guys I have built relationships and bonds with through the years.  Brothers I have gone to war with.  I was literally walking away from everything I knew.  I felt I was betraying my gang and my people.  There would be no one to back me up anymore and I would be on my own, but God was there.  He said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”  So, we can say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid.  What can man do to me?” (Hebrews 13:5,6).  God gave me the strength and courage to face my own demons.  I always felt that I was unworthy of love and I needed to prove my worth to people to fit in and gain acceptance.  I was reminded of what my mom used to tell me so many times when I was little, that I was useless and stupid.  I believed those lies, but truth is found in God’s Word.  Wherever you are or whoever may be reading this, the answers to life’s questions of why you are simple because God loved you from the beginning of time.  Can you wrap that around your head for one second?  You were born out of and from love!!!  All it takes is to believe and trust in Him.  He’ll free you from the captivities of all the lies you heard like He did for me.  I could never undo all the horror I’ve caused.  Only Grace can pay that debt.  Grace doesn’t hold the wrongs over your head or point fingers in judgment like people of the world.  Grace forgives and gives you a second chance.  When the world says you’ll never amount to anything and your family thinks that you can’t do it and you just want to give up, Grace says you can.  When everyone has turned their back on you, Grace invites you to come home.

            I’m soon to be 45 years old and as crazy as it sounds, my life has truly just begun.  No more fear, doubt, and shame to hold me down.  In its place is a heart of faith, hope, and love in Christ.  The greatest of these is love.  Life is a gift from God, and He gives us the choice to live it the way we please.  Today I’m choosing to live for Him and fight the good fight of faith as a soldier of God.  These words written by me were not by random chance but is of God’s design to reach you and open your heart to who He is.  I’m living proof that God is real and it’s never too late to change and start over because Grace and love covers over a multitude of sin.  

            I heard a song on the radio the other day and I leave you with this message.  “God is not done with you.”  My name is Chieu and I hope to see you in heaven one day.