Yellow Brick Road

2008-12-24T08:45:00.002+08:00

I remember the day you first showed me you were with me.

I remember when nobody believed but you.

I remember the times you forgave me.

I remember your goodness and your blessings.

I remember the sound of your voice even in the times you were silent.

I remember the joy of being in your presence.

I remember why I still believe.

Gift

2008-09-01T12:01:00.014+08:00

Yesterday I told God I was going back to Him and I felt joy and peace that I haven't known for a long time.

At lunch, eating my yoghurt and muesli with a fork and seated beside rows of wines, it suddenly struck me -- this feeling of bliss. There was a couple speaking in Cantonese in front of me, an ang mo family eating a hearty lunch a table away. And I was happy to be alone, to be in my own company, not having to please anyone or to have to make conversation or to eat proper food or to be mindful of table manners. Someone told me once that being alone is a gift, just like any other stage in our lives. And it felt like such blessed freedom as I spent this time reading Morgan's poetry, watching the transformation of the ordinary, reading, and writing some.

Wrote this there:

Alcove of wicker chairs sit ang mo family
Cantonese couple sip from groves of
vines.

Reading Edwin Morgan's poetry with left hand
eating with right fork only and
trawling it along yoghurt so can be seen
thin squiggly lines across
smooth white.
Imagine flying to Iowa tonight
where bus tracks make similar imprints on frost laden roads
less travelled.

Criss-crossing milk trails with Riesling sparkles
amber glow
Louis MacNeice snow --
poetry strolling along the edges,
stained red by strawberry juice
1pm magic.

Questions

2008-08-17T09:59:00.004+08:00

Have been very interested in questions recently. I like to think of them following me, like strangers, yet already intimate with the details of my life...just like Sophie Calle's detective (http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2004/dec/13/art.art), who followed her under the instructions of her own mother under the instructions of Calle herself.

En route to the Esplanade, there is an exhibition of questions that Singaporeans are supposedly afraid to ask. Questions like How high must I climb?

A random question on blogger:
If you could peer far enough into the night sky, you'd see a star in any direction you looked. When would you sleep?

At the Ethos launch on Friday, the guest speaker said that every story is a response to a question, an attempt to resolve this question and that act of resolution gives pleasure.

Someone told me: we must resist the urge to know everything in this world before we're 30, because that will never happen.

It won't?

Questions that have been on my trail for some time:

When will you appear again?

How long can a person stay in complete solitude?

Will I, one day, unaware, become accustomed to sadness?

Who is writing all this down?

2008-08-01T14:54:00.001+08:00

“You are the one who writes and the one who is written.” -- The Book of Questions.

Hit and Run

2008-07-28T11:46:00.001+08:00

I saw G again today.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, should almost have known, because I was in t-shirt and shorts and worst of all, glasses, and no make-up at all. This one time, I had snuck out to run errands, forgetting my own mantra “always dress as if you were going to run into an ex-boyfriend”. If we were characters in a story, this is how I would have expected to meet you again. Real life manages to be both a lot more prosaic and a lot more dramatic at the same time.

I was taken by surprise.

Once I stepped into Guardian and spoke to the counter staff I knew the sheath of anonymity had somehow dispersed. You were a short distance away, surveying the range of a certain product with almost proprietoral pride. I knew. You half-turned and I, stunned by the revelation, mechanically followed the salesgirl to the back shelves where Vit C was stocked.

I must have looked different to you because you didn’t recognize me immediately. After a while, you strolled to the back, standing at a distance, at the shelf next to me, where you looked at me while I looked at the Redoxon the salesgirl was handing me.

I did not want to talk to you. Did not want to when I stopped answering your calls or when I started seeing someone else. And yet I wanted to talk to you. Our time together flashed past in an instant – phone calls, the first time you held my hand, and then dinners and arguments and inanities. All the time, I was quaking inside. Was that really you? Did I want it to be you? Does this mean acknowledging that things have changed between us, and that this furtive skirmish in a pharmacy (of all places), and not our last date, will be the last memory that I have of you and us.

I never knew that the living could haunt.

There was once when I absolutely refused to be the girl who marries her first boyfriend because I wanted my life to be exciting. And now, taking stock of my emotional life and the list of people I would not want to meet or at least not unless looking accidentally glamorous and totally together, and counting down the days like a hunted animal until I will have to see him or you or them again, I am really having second thoughts.

Filling in the blanks

2008-07-20T11:11:00.002+08:00

I know of someone who, after a full day at work, promptly falls into bed and sleeps, until the next sameness.

When I think of the same blanks, I panic and immediately go grocery shopping, draw up to-do lists of plans, annihilating vacant spaces.

Which of us has the correct answer?

Psalm 56:3-4

2008-06-19T11:36:00.002+08:00

I remember that night as I was coming home from cell and singing to You. I told you that even if, I would still love you and serve you and worship you.

I said that because I knew that I could trust you. These three years...the many things you have taught me, the many people you have brought into my life, the many times you picked me up, the words you spoke to me again and again and again. And that one truth, repeated in the classroom where I was having lesson obs, repeated in the interview rooms of HCI and MDA, repeated in the smiles of students, repeated in the constant reassurance and care of close friends, repeated in the words "I am with you", a hundred times over, at the book launch, in church, in school, in cell, in DEW. Over and over again, you said: be strong. I believe in you. I love you.

Even in the times I was feeling most insecure, inadequate and frightened, you were near. Even when I was unjustly angry with you, you were there. In November, in March this year.

Your love gives me strength. Apart from it, I know no other way of breathing, of living, of surviving. I want to be so much more for you, want to be always joyful, always peaceful, always thinking how I can be a blessing to others. I want to glorify you in all that I do; regardless of what is happening in my life, I want to glorify you.

I'm sorry that I have allowed other things, other people, to distract me, sorry that I'm still so painfully weak. It was only by your strength that I was able to get up again and make small steps towards you.

I was telling K that I don't want to keep saying I'm sorry to you. I know I must, but I don't want the only thing that I say to you to be forever starting with "I'm sorry". That's not the way I want my relationship with you to be like. I want to say thank you. I want to say I love you. I want to sing your praises, to speak of your goodness in the spring of my step, in the smile on my face, in the confidence of my identity.

I am the Daughter of the King.

I want to let people know, just by my being, my existence, my presence: my father is the King of Kings, the Creator of Heaven and Earth, and He loves me dearly.

And because of that love, I shall say, I will no longer be afraid, no longer be anxious, no longer be worried. I will not let anyone steal my joy.

I will not be afraid.

I am not afraid.

2008-06-18T18:40:00.003+08:00

It’s 6:24pm and I’m sitting in front of the computer, eating sweet rolls and thinking about H’s message on face book. It brings me back nine years when we were both competitive in some ways more than others, each wanting so much for our lives. That was the year we both fell for the same guy.

Nine years and countless guys later, we’re still friends. And she has just sent me a long congratulatory message telling me how happy she is for me, when she is going through yet another breakup herself. At this point, I am moved to the point of tears. Because she has just affirmed my theory that the best friends are people who manage to be happy for you in times of your successes as well as loyal in times of need. I felt truly blessed. I remember Z, who, when I was going through a difficult breakup, immediately put on her rescue cap and spent so much of her time helping me to build up my self-esteem. She was the one who taught me, together with E, how to swim. And not just literally. And S, who cancelled his lessons and drove down all the way to my place just to listen to me cry. Many, many, people, who listened to me, stayed with me, celebrated my successes with me.

If I am stronger today, it is because of love.

2008-06-13T15:45:00.004+08:00

Just spent the day in the library, reading autobiographies...and a keen sense of fear and anxiety gnaws at me through the words. People seem more vulnerable now, compared to the past. A consequence of modernity, of modern life (cf. Giddens) How ironic it is that with new and improved forms of technology, we have come to feel more fragile than ever.

When I was a child, my dad used to tell people that I was afraid of nothing. I was always the one who wanted to go on rollercoaster rides, the one to laugh at my mum and sis, telling them there was nothing to be afraid of, while I went on the rides with dad. When I grew up, however, I lost that inexplicable bravado and became afraid of a whole host of things, real or imaginary. I wish so much right now that he were still around to tell me that there's nothing to be afraid of. I wish I were still the little girl who wasn't afraid of anything.

I am still holding on too tightly to the handbar, daddy. It's just that you're no longer beside me.

2008-06-06T10:18:00.000+08:00

I don’t want my life to be a series of dashes, followed by full-stops. Waiting for messages, waiting for smses, waiting for weekends. I don’t want to constantly flash-forward, second-guess, flash-back; don’t want to only truly live one day out of seven, counting down to the next time I see him, counting the number of days since we met, counting my eggs before they hatch. Oh, what have I become. I have become that kind of person I know I would despise should I happen to meet them in person.

Impersonating me.

Who are you and what are you doing here?

What happened to the girl, who, just two months ago, wrote “This is me and I no longer want to care about what you think” or even one month ago, “I would rather lose you than lose myself.”

What is this emotion that threatens to paralyze me? The psychologists explain it like this: increased levels of dopamine in the blood make you more restless and unable to sleep at night. This I understand in a way I would if it were happening to someone else.

I still have so much I care so deeply about, so much to live for -- work, students, writing, ambitions, books, family, dreams.

I want to live. Every single day.

Please remember the person you were.

borrowing Carol Ann Duffy's lines

2008-05-11T08:36:00.005+08:00


Falling in love
is glamorous hell: the crouched, parched heart
like a tiger, ready to kill; a flame’s fierce licks under the skin.
into my life, larger than life, you strolled in.

2008-05-09T14:38:00.001+08:00

After a good lunch and superb conversation, I’m loving my life again. Went to Cellar Door with J. and talked about work, meaning, writers, feelings (I’d rather feel pain than not feel anything at all because then I know that I exist, she says) over very good walnut bread with hummus and basil pesto, white wine, minted lamb and muesli with yoghurt.

Does it take more to love yourself when you’re alone than it does to love someone else?

This is the seventh day you’ve not called and I no longer want to care anymore.

2008-05-02T17:05:00.000+08:00

I’ve fallen in; am in the deep, somewhere
Along the gradient of the escalator, between the gaps
Of our fingers, between
The pause you took to say hello.

2008-04-23T08:45:00.003+08:00

Today, standing in one of the LTs like the ones we used to take exams in, I want so much to be able to tell you: I did it, do you see, do you know, I managed to do it.
In spite of everything.

Would you have been proud of me?

Nine years. I wish you were here so I could tell you. I did it, do you know, do you see. I want nothing else from you, just to be able to tell you that.

But you are not here, not in this place.

2008-03-03T14:42:00.004+08:00

I make belligerent comments all day and there is an anger that burns so steadily in me it makes me want to cry and swear at the same time. I am so angry it hurts.
So angry with myself and people, with

Conformity and making do all the time.
with why my Nine West shoes always hurt.
with global warming and
Why I am not a better Christian.
Why people have two or three children without thinking.

Perhaps I am angry because I am idealistic. I want to believe still in a world where love lasts forever, although the once simple concept of love has now been deconstructed to death. I need a world where dating does not exist and people do not need to play games with each other to show
you how much they don’t care in order not to show how much they do care.

Anger is however, infinitely preferable to sadness. It is a privilege to be able to shout at the world. In the car, I asked S., what do all these men f*ing want? Before I lose my sanity.

2007-11-19T13:27:00.001+08:00

In green pastures

I would remain

Intractable as a mule,

Immutable,

Bowing only to you.

I would

Lift my head high

Walk with you,

Above pretence and ambition.

Call you only Master.

Elective Affinities

2007-10-17T11:55:00.000+08:00

Discovered Magritte’s painting “Elective Affinities” (1933) quite by accident and for the past few days, it has been playing games with my mind.

This painting is fascinating to me for a few reasons:

1. It is usually a bird inside a cage; the fact that Magritte’s painting contains an egg raises a couple of existential questions. An egg contains an embryo, which eventually hatches out to be a bird. The bird, having broken out of the egg shell, however, is contained within another cage. Our belief that we have been born free – into the world, may be an illusion.

2. “Elective Affinities” was originally the title of Goethe’s novel, which explored the relationship between human attraction and chemistry. By using this title, Magritte is playing with the idea of romance/attraction. Are we sub-consciously attracted to our other halves?

3. In this case, the attraction between the egg and the cages (both the shell and bird cage) gives rise to the impression that there is something predestined about entrapment in the context of romantic relationships.

4. The slightly unnerving notion that we may be trapped in our situations because of something that is innate i.e. within us, our preferences, our attraction to certain individuals, rather than something that is external.

Book updates

2007-09-17T20:15:00.001+08:00

Just heard from MDA that they're bringing five copies of the book to the Frankfurt Book Fair next month. PTL!

Publishers are printing it right now. Can't wait.

Masterclass - Writing & Illustrating for Children's Books, Grand Plaza Hotel, 7 July 2007

2007-07-15T11:22:00.000+08:00

43 things

2007-05-31T21:11:00.000+08:00

Found this website www.43things.com What're your 43 things? Mine are:

do my Phd :( 6 people
Publish my first book 26 people
learn a new language 948 people
Learn driving 69 people
Marry the love of my life. 523 people
Win an award 54 people
bring my family on a trip 1 person
Start my own business 5135 people
Spend more time writing 18 people
be involved in community work 1 person
read a hundred books in a year 2 people
spend more time with God 40 people
do a theology course 1 person
visit the USA 28 people
dine at Au Jardin 1 person
do a translation course 1 person
learn how to draw 145 people
exercise regularly 6371 people
be more patient 2060 people
learn stained glass painting 1 person
spend more time with my friends 173 people
write a brilliant MA thesis 1 person
be published in an academic journal 3 people
be less selfcentred 1 person
be less critical 107 people
help others 406 people
be more positive 1288 people
Buy my own home 159 people
inspire others 404 people
not care so much about what other people think 2 people
spend my life meaningfully 1 person
work overseas for a year 2 people
grow a beautiful garden 24 people
be there for my friends 21 people
tell people about Jesus 29 people
live without inhibition 4 people
run in a marathon 143 people
drink less coffee 206 people
go to a Children's Lit conference 1 person
spend two weeks in Greece 1 person
spend a whole day writing in a cafe 1 person
design clothes 578 people
smile more 2154 people

Korea 18/05 - 24/05 2007

2007-05-27T00:58:00.000+08:00

2007-04-09T11:13:00.000+08:00

Just read Jane's essay "The Qualities of a Teacher", which reminded me of what it means to teach:

Being a teacher requires each individual to think through his or her decision carefully before making the final commitment to join teaching. It is not only a career, but also a high calling. [...] Teachers can either help [their students] to be men and women who will grow up with strong values and knowledge skills or they can cause them to grow to be people with no purpose in life.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

2007-03-02T12:49:00.000+08:00

“How could he have known? How could he have gauged it? Any schoolboy can do experiments in the physics laboratory to test various scientific hypotheses. But man, because he has only one life to live, cannot conduct experiments to test whether to follow his passion (compassion) or not” (34).

Started reading Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being and by the time I was one-fifth of the way through it I went down to the NUS co-op, wanting to buy my own copy. Truly great books jolt you out of your sense of complacency – a been there, read that kind of attitude. Lightness was electrifying – every page reminding me of the need to read. Despite the lack of utilitarian value, literature opens up worlds we engage with and debate with and by so doing opens up our minds and liberates us from the narrowness of ourselves. The tension between weight and lightness shows up how the individual seems to be torn between the need for solitude and, at the same time, the need to associate with the Other. And it is in part this restlessness that gives rise to works of creative endeavour.

There is also that recognition that no single person has a monopoly over meaning; that all these evolve and change as a result of one’s interaction with the world beyond ourselves, thus giving rise to an infinitude of possibilities. The invocation, so subtle, to rethink boundaries, so reminiscent of the Surrealists (think defamiliarisation, art that provokes people to think about things out of their original context) gently leads one to sidestep the dangers of totalitarianism, which is at least partially born out of a mechanisation of the spirit (doing something just because everyone else is doing it and not pausing to think about the ethical consequences involved) or an unwillingness to accept that someone else other than the self may be right. And I think it is precisely this interactive engagement or challenge that is constitutive of the book’s ethical stance, given the backdrop of the reign of Communism and repressive government.

CNY flowers

2007-02-23T09:47:00.000+08:00

With Amaryllis, bright pink Carnations, Cherry Blossoms and yellow Gerberras

Valentine's Day Pressies :)

2007-02-15T01:25:00.000+08:00

2007-01-10T23:08:00.000+08:00

"Look, with all your eyes, look" (Jules Verne)

I was at NUS today and I saw hordes of undergrades, trawling the corridors, in the library, in thick make-up and mini-skirts. I thought to myself: these are the elite of the country and what they care about are make-up and teeny skirts. I thought again: these are people who are studying Sociology and Political Science, who have read Adorno and Horkheimer, and all they care about are eyeshadow shades and hemlines.

And I despaired, because I saw that these frivolities were in fact bribes that we have accepted, willingly, in return for not caring about the world beyond ourselves, for not caring about which sweatshop these cheap skirts and outfits come from. Ironically, the visually attractive is a bribe for that which we have chosen to turn our eyes away from , always thinking that someone else will do it. (remember Kitty Genovese?) We have sold out.

And I despaired. Because I know that I am really one of them.

At Sun with Moon

2007-01-07T20:22:00.000+08:00

If the pics seem unusually 'arty', credit is to be given to my sister.
Happy new year, friends.

Christmas cards 2006

2006-12-30T11:54:00.000+08:00

Poe-tree

2006-12-29T11:39:00.000+08:00

December seems to be a month for poetry...perhaps it has something to do with the melancholy weather, or the generally nostalgic/pensive quality of the end of the year, reflecting on things done and past. Found a book of Paul Muldoon's poetry quite by accident. And I loved this one so much. It reminded me of Michael Ondaatje's "The Time Around Scars" - the relationship between love and pain and vulnerability and creativity.

WIND AND TREE

In the way that most of the wind
Happens where there are trees,

Most of the world is centred
About ourselves.

Often where the wind has gathered
The trees together and together,

One tree will take
Another in her arms and hold.

Their branches that are grinding
Madly together and together,

It is no real fire.
They are breaking each other.

Often I think I should be like
The single tree, going nowhere,

Since my own arm cannot and will not
Break the other.

Yet by my broken bones
I tell new weather.

Birthday Wishes (Journal entry, Christmas Day, the 25th day of December, 2006)

2006-12-26T11:59:00.000+08:00

Happy Birthday, Lord Jesus. May many more enter your kingdom in this year; may they come to taste of your goodness and sing of your glorious praises. May your love, forgiveness, joy and mercy reign in the year ahead and snuff out bitterness, regret, vengeance, selfishness, hypocrisy, evil. May the poor and hungry be blessed. May those who claim to follow you arise in faith and serve those around them with the love and kindness that you have shown on your days on earth. May we be a light in the darkness, just as you were many years ago, when you came in human form, and even as you now still are, a beacon of hope for the broken-hearted. May your people never stop praising you and thanking you for what you have done for them. May they love you truly, with all their hearts, souls, minds, and mights. Blessed Birthday, my beloved Lord and Saviour.

New Poem

2006-11-18T10:44:00.000+08:00

Hunting, Hurting (Winter 2006)

Me stalking those chunky heels
(the better to kick you with)
Me a patchwork doll
Blistering feet from too much walking
In shopping malls.

I am still hurting
From a world gone wrong
Nothing makes sense anymore.

Thick sweaters hide quiet quivering
Wounds under much layering
Scraped knees require opaque leggings.
Hide, escape, flee,
Private screams,
Long shattered dreams.

Festering, festering,
Like sores.

I hunt
Leopard print coats
Fur like long love notes
Wrap it up;
Sashes are flowing bandages; dressings
Anecdotal palliatives to grief.

Perfect fashion victim.

Note: Fashionistas will be able to spot the fall/winter 2006 trends in this poem. I was reflecting on the phenomena of thick, chunky sweaters and knits. And I suppose they address a very deep felt need for security and comfort, such that we wear them even when it isn't very cold at all. The persona in this poem starts off with some degree of agency ("I hunt", I stalk), and uses shopping/fashion as an antidote for grief and lack of control in actual life, but I think ends up losing that in the end, when these end up controlling her. The relationship between hurting and hunting/shopping is very real to me - "dressing" can mean dressing up, being pretty, etc. but it can also mean "dressings" as in bandages, a cover up, or salve for loss. And I am reminded that materialism is a snare - it deludes us into thinking that we are hunters, when in actual fact we become victims.

Candle Rain

2006-10-29T11:06:00.000+08:00

Was reminded again, on two separate occasions recently, that my name means 'Candle' in Malay. I always knew that, but it seems more special to me in this season. It's such a beautiful image...a candle is an instrument for bringing light, but not by itself - it does not have the capability of giving off light. It has to be lit up, burnt, consumed. And that is what I want to be - a candle for God, that His flame will consume me and my self-centredness, to shine for Him and His glory.

In Mandarin, the character 'Lin' means Rain. There is a phrase - jiu han feng gan lin - which means sweet rain that comes after a drought. Just like refreshing rain consumed by people to quench their thirst, bringing God's healing to the land which is parched, dry and scarred. Another of God's instruments.

Sometimes, I do feel like a candle in the rain (which, incidentally, is the name of a Christian rock band). Struggling to shine despite the storms of life, that threaten to snuff out the flame. And I pray that God's supernatural light will continue to shine through me, in spite of myself. Thank you, Lord, for this vision of what I was meant to be.

"Heartbreak comes.
Steals the color from my sky.
Blue and white, fade to black and gray.
Clouds collide, and tears fill up my eyes,
storm's wind steal the words I want to pray.
Deep inside of there is a flame called faith
and though tear drops fall, there is a choice I have made

(chorus)

I will dare to dream about tomorrow,
I will hold to hope through all of the pain.
I will never surrender to the sorrow,
No I will be a candle in the rain.
So I'll go on a light that's burning in the dark.
Reaching out to others all around
and though lightning strikes and the thunder rolls,
I have no doubt God is in control.

I wil trust that life is more,
than just what I see before me
and a bright new day is up ahead,
another chapter in the story."

Re-reading Hedda Gabler

2006-10-16T16:19:00.000+08:00

I was just looking up graphics/pics on the net for my retro-themed christmas cards this year (Let it not be said that I am a procastinator!) and these very sardonic pics + captions reminded me so much of the text my lit class is doing right now - Ibsen's Hedda Gabler, even though one concerns Norweigian society at the turn of the century, and the other 50s America. Re-reading Hedda reminded me of that kind of cloying domesticity, ennui, claustrophobia - that is all to do with petit bourgeoise society. Housework, boredom, lack of fulfilment, straying husbands, the paucity of women's roles, the starkly eerie idea that one should have to peg one's happiness/meaning in life to another human being's (husband's), living one's life vicariously as a sort of voyeur/shadow figure.

I was also thinking abt the extent to which the play is a call to activism/action of any kind, given that women in the audience would have been trapped in similar kinds of situations. And, in some ways, the audience is made to identify with Hedda - her capacity for drama and excitement. People who go to plays look for characters/heroines who are exciting, hoping to live their lives through them vicariously (much like what Hedda does when she listens to stories about Lovborg's life). So in that sense, there is a parallel drawn between Hedda and the audience, perhaps jolting them into recognising that her non-future is theirs as well. And perhaps by putting a finger to the "problem that has no name" (cf. Betty Friedan's Feminine Mystique), there would have been a recognition that others were also suffering from similar stifling, ennui-inducing circumstances, and a desire to do something about it.

And I am reminded that there is still that trap of a lifetime of looking after kids, buying more shoes, accommodating everyone and anyone, losing one's individuality, blending in, doing as the Jones (or in our case, Tans) do. What I find most frightening is that whilst women today in Sg are holding well paid jobs in "equal opportunity" places, the symptoms of bourgeoise-mundane-predictability are still with us. Pple are still doing pretty much the same things - marrying up and conveniently, watching the occasional play at the Esplanade to feel more cultured, getting into jobs not because they feel passionate about it but because it makes economic sense, buying more and more useless crap, going after safe, domesticated desires, not daring to say what one likes and what one does not like ...and all of a sudden it is not that funny anymore.

2006-10-09T22:42:00.000+08:00

To a Friend:

I have looked for you
in closet spaces,
in memories,
looking for a flicker of recognition,
a reason.

Somewhere you hid away
Far from my prying eyes
and I am left with tenuous fragments for clues
Lamenting the fragility of rainbows.

I have looked for you.
The art of losing is hard to master.

I ache to think
about things that are
tissue-paper thin
A weariness that is bone-deep
creeps into my being.
Dis-appointment you could not keep.

I have looked for you.
Is it time to give up, now.

Photos from Mission Trip (31 Jul to 18 Aug 2006)

2006-09-12T12:15:00.000+08:00

A Story

2006-09-07T16:33:00.000+08:00

The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand anything about it.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, while they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse, "it's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long-long time, not just to playwith, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"I suppose you are Real?" said the Rabbit. (...)

"That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."

(from The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams)

A to Z of AlphaTrack

2006-08-20T09:01:00.000+08:00

Just came back from Kajang, which marks the end of AlphaTrack. Started on a list of ABCs of memories, which I presented to the Trackers on Wed. And although part of me is dying to get back to research work, I'm really gonna miss everything. Will put up pics soon! :)

A-Alpha Track
B-Bridge illustrations, Boldness in sharing the gospel
C-Chinese, Campus and Children's ministries (in Kajang)
D-Durians (which we devoured by the tens on our way back)
E-Evangelism
F-Friendships
G-God (without whom nothing is possible)
H-Hokkien Bible stories (of which Melvin is champion)
I-Icebreakers (e.g. animal game)
J-Jehovah Jireh (God has been really good and provident to all 20)
K-Kajang
L-Life conference
M-Mark (was healed by God, came to church, now part of cell)
N-Nacli retreat
O-Orang Asli tribe in Malaysia
P-Prayer and Prophecy (and hearing the voice of God loud and clear)
Q-Quiet Time
R-REST (Steven's devotion of the same title)
S-Songs (all that jazz)
T-Teamwork (strength in diversity)
U-Universities (at which we shared with people)
V-Vision (to see the gospel preached in sg and beyond)
W-Wise men (three) and our buzzword -- Wow!
X-Xavier, who came all the way from America
Y-Yacht Club, one of our fav places
Z-The combined Zanyness of all 20

And, and (this is the part which I like most): the English alphabet has only 26 letters, but we're the 27th batch, which means that our story together has yet to end!

2006-07-23T19:31:00.000+08:00

And what can I say to You? I think I'm stubborn, but You are more stubborn than I am. You refuse to let go, refuse to stop loving me, refuse to give up hope on me. And that is the reason why I love You so much.

Stubborn Love (Kathy Troccoli)

Caught again, Your faithless friend
Don't You ever tire of hearing
What a fool I've been
Guess I should pray what can I say
Oh, it hurts to know the hundred times I've caused You pain
The "forgive me" sounds so empty
When I never change
Yet You stay and say You love me
Still forgiving me time and time again

(Chorus)

It's Your stubborn love
That never lets go of me
I don't understand how You can stay
Perfect love, embracing the worst in me
How I long for You, stubborn love
Funny me, just couldn't see,
Even long before I knew You, You were loving me
Sometimes I cry, You must cry too,
When You see the broken promises
I made to You, I keep saying that I'll trust you,
Though I seldom do,
Yet You stay and say You love me
Still knowing someday I'll be like You

(Chorus)

It's Your stubborn love
That never lets go of me
I don't understand how You can stay
Perfect love, embracing the worst in me
And You'll never let me go
I believe I finally know,
I can't live without Your stubborn love.

My Earring Palace

2006-07-13T19:48:00.000+08:00

Isn't this sososo cool?! My sister drew it for me! It's an earring palace in the clouds. If you look closely enough, you can see some of my earrings (including those I made!) in the drawing. Even the little bits of shimmer-glitter falling down from the sky are all details found in my earrings. It's so beautiful and colourful and magical I love it to bits :)

Blessed

2006-07-09T09:43:00.000+08:00

God does answer prayers!

I was on my way to cell on Friday when I was feeling a bit upset and fed up. I was tired, and the weight of the rejections (and some criticism) just took their toll. I was so grouchy and I started to unload my complaints to God, to tell Him about my battle scars I had incurred. I was just very negative all of a sudden even though God had done great things through the SE and had granted me a lot of favour.

And all of a sudden, as if out of nowhere, a verse dropped into my head. I heard "Blessed are those who suffer for my name's sake, for they shall see the Kingdom of God". I was so astounded I stopped momentarily in my tracks. I knew it was one of the Beautitudes but I could not remember which one as I had not read that portion of scripture for a long time (and so it could not have been something that popped out from memory). So right there and then, I stopped walking (I was coming down from the overhead bridge), moved a little out of the way, and searched my Bible. And there it was - Matthew 5:10 "Blessed are those who suffer for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (NIV). I was so encouraged and comforted - it gave me the strength to carry on, to go to cell, and to share about how good God has been. It stopped all the negativity that was robbing the joy that He had given me as I was doing His work.

And then the next day (Sat), I was talking to Veron after service and she asked me, "So, did God speak to you on Friday?" She had known that I was feeling upset as I had shared some of my feelings with her on Friday. And it turned out that she had been praying on Friday that God would speak to me a word of encouragement before or during cell on Friday. And He did!

with Elsa & Zhi at PS Cafe

2006-06-27T20:02:00.000+08:00

Birthday Celebrations -- 3 surprises, 4 types of cake, 5 types of ice cream, and one very happy me

2006-06-11T23:42:00.000+08:00

hmmm... am just feeling so happy and blessed. Birthday celebrations actually started two weeks before with HF and ZJ at Bakerzin...we had various mains and desert tapas. The alphatrackers celebrated for me with a Secret Recipe chocolate cake. When I was at cell, my cell surprised me with mango cake and two tubs of Haagen Dazs ice cream.

On the actual day (today), I decided to just have a *nuah* day. Spent a lovely morning with God, and the afternoon doing some of the things I love most -- playing with my cat, reading, beading, talking to friends.

Went out for dinner with aunt, cousin, mum and sis. Had lovely Korean dinner, followed by durian strudel, apple strudel, and three tubs of ice cream. When at dinner, I got a call from a very anxious Louise. She said that she had just received some bad news. She sounded so sad, I said I would be at home in about half an hour to talk to her properly. When I was talking to her on the phone, she said "come to the door now" and I was like "huh?" (a bit slow I know). So I got to the door and saw Louise, Yixin, Joy and Jane at the gate, with sunflower and tiramisu in their hands, singing "happy birthday". I was really really touched.

I guess being on the "blur" side has its plus points...I was genuinely surprised all three times, especially the last. But the biggest surprise is this: I actually thought I would be kinda sad this year because it's the first birthday in seven years that I am not celebrating with D. But God has surprised me again and again, by showing me just how much I am loved, by Him, His people, and my family.

2006-05-19T17:01:00.000+08:00

will be away on holiday in China from the 20th to the 29th...whoopee! see you guys when I get back... hope to take lots of lovely pics =)

Tea with Zhi and Elsa at Corduroy & Finch

2006-05-07T18:57:00.000+08:00

2006-05-03T15:22:00.000+08:00

Had quite a virtuous, fit, healthy kind of long weekend :) Went cycling at East Coast Park with Shireen on Friday...cycled for almost two hours, fuelled by Macs breakfasts and sugar cane juice. Ended up with a nice, reddish tan, although somewhat uneven. And it was so good to catch up with this v dear friend...someone with whom I feel like I can talk to about anything and everything, for hours. Played badminton (yes yes stop sniggering) on Monday with cell group. Am now still recovering from aches...ow ow.

2006-04-23T09:54:00.000+08:00

Me and Huiwen (that's Dr. Chong soon!) We turned up in practically identical outfits without intending to. Must be the Spring fever ... eveything we saw in Mango, Zara etc. was insanely cheery and so let's-go-on-a-holiday-now! Doesn't Huiwen look gorgeous in her movie-star sunshades? All we need is a yacht and huge LV travel suitcases to complete the look *dreamy gaze*

2006-04-21T10:40:00.000+08:00

Easter 2006

That's Marianne, Huini and me before one of the Easter presentations at church :) We're all dressed identically in black shirts and pink-gold scarves. Easter was a powerful reminder of Christ's love...even when we betray Him or give up on leading godly lives sometimes, He never gives up on us. Love...always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres....never fails. His perseverance was there when He knew that He was about to be betrayed, it was there at Gethsemane when He prayed to the Father and said, "Let Your will be done", it was there when He pursued Jonah, it was there when He did not give up on me all those years, but sent numerous encouragers and events, to remind me to turn back to Him, it was there when He was with me every step of the way since I started my Christian walk...even though there are times when I wanted to walk my own path...and it is present in the way He pursues each and every one of us, unceasingly, unfailingly.

Huini, Marianne and I signed up to be in the choir...and lots of our friends and family came to church. I thank God because we can really see His hand at work in our lives, so powerfully. Sometimes I ask, when will my friends and family come to know of your goodness, God? And He spoke to me through Ephesians 1:19-21

"his incomparably great power [is] for us who believe. That power is like the working of his mighty strength, which he exerted in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every title that can be given, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. "

And He reminded me not to focus on defeat and rejection, but on His power, His love, on the joy and hope of the Resurrection.

Thank God also for placing me in such a wonderful carecell (visit us at www.bishan161.blogspot.com) ...there is something very beautiful about so many different pple, with different temperaments and giftings, working together towards a common goal, a common vision. And there is such an atmosphere of love, acceptance and fun (the second pic is a photo montage of cell that Huini made for my baptism earlier this year)...and God is continually adding to our numbers...we just had two newbies this Tuesday...Sheradine from South Africa, and Daphne. It has been such an exciting journey thus far, and I believe that God will do many more great things through each and every one of us.

my latest hobby...

2006-03-26T11:02:00.000+08:00

2006-03-10T16:53:00.000+08:00

A poem I was writing intermittently over the last few days...

I tried it once
Writing, that is.
I tried to write the story of my life.
Comedies, tragedies, nothing very satisfactory.

I tried to make my stories follow a certain trajectory,
arranged to marry people who would look most good on paper.
Painstakingly, I manufactured, engineered, cooked up, constructed
looms and looms of fairytales,
leaving behind me a long papery trail.

Reading over what I had written
I gave it up.

2.

I
was too concerned with writing in straight lines
with nice ink and things just right
Too busy with form
I neglected content.

A chapter in my life has closed
I closed it
with an unceremonious clap.
Was I afraid
and so hastily flipped over
to the safe blankness
of unwritten pages.

Are you relieved?
Or is there, in your book,
a tear-stained mark somewhere.

4.
To my mother:

I tried to take a leaf out of your book,
Honed my skills in cooking and housekeeping
kept my men happy,

Pity
love can no longer be got
with clean sheets and spaghetti.

5.
To D:

You took up
pages and pages.
Once, you meant the world to me.
I lived and died for you.

Now, our time together is
tucked away in the past tense
in letters in a box in a room
in a footnote in an email account
somewhere.

6.
To S:

You understood
that I tended towards melodrama.
Together, we dreamt up
elaborate plots,
outrageous plans.
Even when you saw the holes
in my castles in the air,
you stayed in them with me.

And you were there
to hold my hand
when everything crashed.

7.
To HW:

Boyfriends come and go
but a diet is forever.

8.
To Z:

For many years I kept you secret
hid you away
in the Bluebeard castle of my past
yet you lurked,
phantom presence
I was never able to completely erase.

It is now time to do a little spring-cleaning.

9.
To my Lord:

If my life were a book or story
I humbly give You
the pages.

You're
Lover of my soul
Author of my life.

4 March 2006 -- first jewellery making class

2006-03-05T09:46:00.000+08:00

Jean, Huini, Jiewei, me, Marianne and Jaslyn

Beading class went very well yesterday... we learnt how to make a simple pair of earrings and everyone picked it up quickly. Many of the participants were so excited at being able to make their first piece of jewellery that they couldn't wait to go bead shopping again! heh... am so proud of my students! Thank God that everything went really smoothly...in terms of an interactive atmosphere, time management etc.

Zhi and Stalkers

2006-02-27T10:20:00.000+08:00

Some advertising for Zhi, a very dear friend and sister, who is also amazingly talented and has her own flower business -- Stalkers (don't you just love the name?)

For flowers, email wuzhining@gmail.com

19 February 2006 11:10am -- Water Baptism

2006-02-22T21:27:00.000+08:00

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" 2 Cor 5:17 (NIV)

Testimony -- I accepted Christ when I was sixteen, seven years ago. I know of some friends who can testify to the dramatic transformations in their lives before and after they became Christians, but that kind of change was absent from my life. I began to harbour bitterness and resentment toward God, believing that He had forgotten about me. I doubted whether God was real at all. Slowly the joy of God was snuffed out from my life, and I was dying right inside.

It was not only until last year, when I was going through a difficult period in my life that I realised how much I needed God. My prayers to Him were not lip service anymore, but real cries of desperation. And I was so afraid He would not answer. But He did, because He has promised in Jeremiah 29:13 that we will find Him when we seek Him with all our hearts. And at a time I was feeling most alone and miserable, He showed me His presence in very tangible ways. There was once when He spoke to me and told me not to be afraid because He was with me and later confirmed it through scripture (Luke, road to Emmaus). On another occasion, when I was feeling sad and praying on my way to church, He put a song in my mind. And the exact same song was played in church later on, despite the fact that there are millions of Christian songs in the world. And I felt His love for me so powerfully just then.

I now understand that the absence of change in my life in the past was a result of not giving my all to Him and He could not work in me without my full and utter surrender. I would go to church every Sunday, but I would not forgive those who had hurt me. I would pray, but I would not love others.

Since rededicating my life to Him, I have felt such a joy every day of my life. There is a deep-seated peace which I had never known since I was always fighting against Him instead of for Him. And He has also changed my heart; in Ezekiel 36:26-27, God says 'A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh.' (KJV) When in the past I felt indifference towards the people around me, as I prayed for them in the past year, I found myself being able to grow in love toward my friends and family, and to behave lovingly toward them.

I know now that God is good, He is faithful, and He loves us so much He wants to work in each and every one of us, to give us the abundant and everlasting life. And I have decided to follow Him all the days of my life.

Artreach--jewellery making classes

2006-02-21T13:20:00.000+08:00

For those interested, I'll be holding jewellery making classes in March. More exciting classes coming up soon too!

Introduction

Artreach is a non-profit organisation inaugurated in 2003, with its founding vision of forming platforms to people to reach out to, build up, encourage and inspire one another through the creative arts. We have organised jewellery-making classes and sales, and are lining up other exciting activities such as stained glass painting, book clubs, poetry writing workshops, floral arrangement, cooking, rubber stamping etc.

We used to hold classes at Prinsep Street, but since last year, we have decided to split up into subgroups so as to achieve smaller class sizes (1 to 4 or 5) and a more interactive atmosphere.

Tentatively, classes for the beading workshops will be held fortnightly, commencing on the 4th of March. Two sessions will be devoted to wiring technique (using tools, findings) and two will be devoted to weaving techniques (using nylon string, seed beads and other materials). During one of these sessions, we can also meet earlier to go bead shopping. For a sample of designs I have come up with, please visit my website at http://velvetrosegarden.enacre.net

Schedule:

4 March: Introductions, learning to make loops, simple earrings.

18 March: Bracelets and necklaces

1 April: Learning how to make a simple choker using weaving technique

15 April: more advanced weaving techniques

Estimated cost:

Tools (pack of three) $11.40
Crystals for Lessons 1 & 2: 2 packets of 72 each $8.80
Big crystals for Lesson 3: $2.80
Findings: $5

Venue:

25 Tagore Avenue
Buses: 163, 855, 138, 980, 169, 167
Nearest MRT: Ang Mo Kio

Time:

Each session will last about two or three hours on Sat mornings or afternoons (to be confirmed). After class, refreshments will be served.

Sign up:

Please sign up with Lilin (email: lilinkhoo@nus.edu.sg hp 98222505) as soon as possible, and by the end of February, as there are limited spaces available. Please also email me your preferred time slot (either Sat morning or afternoon) when you sign up. Thanks.

Thick and Thin

2006-02-14T09:53:00.000+08:00

"You broaden the path beneath me,
so that my ankles do not turn." Psalm 18:38

I close my eyes and in my mind
that narrow stretch of road appears again.
I see myself walking alone,
laden with memories of a happier time,
when there was not just one on the path,
but two.

That narrow stretch of road
like a long thin scar barely healed.
You saw the wounds that opened again
as I had to tread over them.

You, too, have trudged narrow paths, my Christ,
far more painful and difficult than this.
You, too, have carried your cross,
the weight of it almost too much for your shoulders.

Yet you stopped by to walk with me,
and it became the two of us.
The road expanded
and the journey did not seem as long.
Our paths converged
and the wounds closed.
Together, we fought battles and won.
You saved me once, and you saved me again,
from hopelessness, depression, and misery.

The length and breadth and depth of your love
I cannot see.
Yet I know
that it was always You
who was there with me.

Parties!!

2006-02-04T19:40:00.000+08:00

1. Chinese New Year party at Vivien's
Menu: Chongqing hotpot...mind-numbing, fiery-hot hotpot! the real stuff...with lots of chillis and peppers aptly nicknamed 'little bombs'. and two dishes by Vivien...mapo beancurd and cuttlefish with green and red peppers.

2. Chinese New Year party at Elsa's
Menu: roasted carrots in garlic and wine sauce (I think), pasta with mushrooms and cream sauce, risotto, sauteed portobello mushrooms with poccini and bacon, lemon cake, lemon cupcakes, coffee liquer.

3. Artreach CNY party
Menu: NYDC's best and finest

4. Christmas party at Beatrice's
Menu: homemade nasi lemak

5. Zhi's christmas hi-tea party
nb: pics stolen from zhi stolen from Trina.
menu: topshells, steamed wantons in wondrously authentic-looking bamboo steamers, little coconut cakes, aunty's wonderful wonderful brownies & lemon tart, poppy seed cake, pretty cupcakes, french hazelnut biscuits, honey baked ham with apple sauce, Elsa's bagels, asparagus, potato & golden mushrooms wrapped in bacon, iced earl grey with vanilla ice cream...etc. etc. zhi gives the best tea parties! :)

6. pre-Christmas party at Wing and Irene's
Menu: cheese fondue, apple strudel, roasted duck, finger food etc. etc.

2006-01-28T22:58:00.000+08:00

You said it first.
A word so long it can't be compressed
into heart shaped cutouts, movies and candy.
Painstakingly, you told me just how much.
It was in your longing gaze, your outstretched hands.

Poetry failed when you called my name.
A whole new horizon opened
and I luxuriated
in the warmth of your gaze.

("How shall I say I love you" 27/1/06)

Starting the new year with God

2006-01-16T16:30:00.000+08:00

I was at my church's prayer meeting and the speaker told us to spend about five minutes or so just listening to God and asking God to speak to us about the new year. I had occassionally been fretting and being insecure about what this new year would bring and about my plans for the year, but as I closed my eyes, a beautiful image came to mind. I saw God stretching out His hands to me and they were big strong hands that I knew would never let me fall. And I felt His assurance. But more than just holding onto His hands, I felt that God was asking me to dance. And as He led me through the dance, He said to me, "I will lead and you will follow." And I somehow knew every step and not one step was out of place, even though in real life I am not the best of dancers. And I just felt this peace in my heart, because I knew that I was in good and safe hands, and that I just had to follow after Him and not worry about a thing. And it was something very beautiful.

And I guess that is near the heart of the simplicity of the Christ-directed life: to just follow wherever God leads, because God is never wrong. It is when we try to do things our way or disobey God that we end up in the wrong paths or ravines. We are told to "seek first His Kingdom and His righteousness...and all these will be given to [us]" (Matthew 6:33) And as I listen to what He wants me to do, there is struggle and there are battles to be fought deep inside me...I am reminded of bad habits that are so ingrained in me that I would not have been conscious of them had the Lord not brought them to my attention...sometimes I try to resist at first...but always, always, when I obey, there is peace and joy, because I know that I am doing my Father's will. And He has poured out His blessings.

A new friend whom my friend brought to church one week was saved when she accepted Christ. It was the first time she had ever heard the gospel...and when I shared with her, there was so much joy and excitement in her. Praise God! God has really blessed me financially this year as well...I have received a pay increment for my tuition job, was approached with another tuition assignment and also got a job as a research assistant, all within the space of a few days (last week). Oh, and velvetrosegarden, which was set up just this year, is doing well too. On the 10th, the lit dept called me up and told me that I had been shortlisted for an interview for position as research assistant to Prof. Edwin Thumboo. Naturally, I was v excited. However, on the day itself (11th), I was sick with flu and very drowsy. I went for the interview anyway after praying and msging my prayer buddy to pray for me. At the one-hour long interview, Prof T. said he would be interviewing two or three more people. But amazingly enough, about half an hour after the interview, the asst manager of the dept called to say I had got the job. Well, anyway, I am v thankful and happy since it has been a long cherished dream to work with a Singaporean writer.

And I know that our Father does not want us to hanker after things or worry about the future because it makes us anxious and covetous, but instead to cast our eyes upon Him and He will make our paths straight. Yes Father, I will follow where you lead.

velvetrosegarden is up!

2006-01-03T09:45:00.000+08:00

my very own jewellery website is finally up! the web design and graphics are done by my sis and I am so proud of it :) the web address is http://velvetrosegarden.enacre.net Email velvetrosegarden@gmail.com for orders and to put yourselves on the mailing list. Friends get 20% off so it's a great place to get gifts for pple and the occasional treat.

Christmas 2005

2006-01-03T09:41:00.000+08:00

2005-12-20T21:03:00.000+08:00

there was quite a favourable response for the jewellery sale...we made slightly over a thousand dollars in just three days! thank God! thanks also to all who supported, through prayers and through purchases :)

am really very thankful for how God has guided me through this year...esp. the second half of the year...it's really been an amazing journey...I've gone through such eyeopening experiences, become a lot more self-aware, grown a lot closer to God and to knowing Him more intimately, got to know so many new and different people, and also built stronger bonds with pple around me. I'm esp. thankful for the support of my family and friends...for my new church (Trinity), my cell group, my prayer buddy...the salvation of two v close friends (HR and Vivien) and my aunt's family this year... am also grateful for my beading group...l learning how to make jewellery and the Christmas sale has brought lots of close friendships and wonderful experiences. and I'm also setting up my very own jewellery website (www.velvetrosegarden.enacre.net) which should be up by next year January. my resolution to learn more new things is also bearing fruit...have learnt swimming, salsa, bowling, and of course beading, so far.

I've really been showered with blessings. Thank you so much, Father.

One of my designs....

2005-10-25T23:23:00.001+08:00

Fundraising!

2005-10-23T20:22:00.000+08:00

hey friends,

guess what? my beading group (I've been learning how to create jewellery pieces with this group of friends) has decided to start a sale to raise funds for charity!! am really excited about it...the sale will start officially in december but pple can start ordering now (we do customised pieces as well). we haven't decided which charity it will be, but probably one related to youths.

will update you guys and maybe post some pics of my designs up here...must support ah :)

2005-09-21T19:15:00.000+08:00

I love this poem! Whenever I wear my strings of beads which are oh-so-fashionable right now, I always think of it:

Unforgiving as the course of justice
Inerasable as my scars and fate
I am here
a woman...with all my lives
strung out like beads
before me

It isn't privilege or pity
that I seek
It isn't reverence or safety
quick happiness or purity
but
the power to be what I am/ a woman
charting my own futures/ a woman
holding my beads in my hand.

An E-labor-ation of His Love

2005-08-30T18:48:00.000+08:00

For the past few weeks, I have been amazed at how active God's love is, which gave me a new understanding of the verse

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose" [Romans 8:28 NIV; my emphasis]

In Rick Warren's The Purpose Driven Life, he writes about this verse. In summary,

"In all things": God's plan for your life involves all that happens to you.
"to work together" (Warren uses the NLT version): Not separately or independently. The events in your life work together in God's plan. They are not isolated acts, but interdependent parts of the process to make you like Christ.
"for the good": This does not say that everything in life in good. Much of what happens in our world is evil and bad, but God specialises in bringing good out of it. In the official family tree of Jesus Christ, four women are listed: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth and Bathsheba....These were not exactly sterling reputations, but God brought good out of bad, and Jesus came through their lineage. God's purpose is greater than our problems, our pain and even our sin" (196)

(A) God's labor

In Edmund Chan's Growing deep in God (which I just received from Andrew), he writes that "without the power of God, all the efforts of man are in vain...Prayer unleashes the power of God! Someone has said it well: when we work, we work--but when we pray, God works!' (44)

Isn't the fact that God works for us amazing? We often talk about working for God, serving in His ministries, but what is less mentioned is that God works for us, wtihout which our efforts are futile. He uses our limitedness, the little we have to offer, our five fishes and two loaves, for the expansion of His kingdom.

(B) Labor pains

"You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world" [John 16:20-21]

The disciples grieved because Jesus was taken away from them, but the Lord comforted them by saying that these labor pains would vanish when He rose from the dead.

(1) Jesus Christ died painfully on the Cross for us, yet His pain turned to joy, as the disciples' grief turned to joy, because He had won the ultimate victory and gave us Life. And by birthing us into the world anew, we are made new creations in Christ.
(2) Similarly, God can use our most painful moments and turn them around for good, for us to "become like his son."

(C) His labor for us and in us

And what is more, God's work did not stop at the cross.
In He chose the Nails, Max Lucado writes

"Positional sanctification comes because of Christ's work for us.
Progressive sanctification comes because of Christ's work in
us.
Both are gifts from God.
'With one sacrifice, he made perfect
forever those who are being made holy'
[Heb 10:14] See the blending of the
tenses? He 'made perfect' (positional) those
who are 'being made holy'
(progressive)...Neglect the first, and you grow
fearful. Neglect the second,
and you grow lazy. Both are essential, and both are
seen in the moistened
dirt at the base of the cross of Christ...

God's work for
us...

The son of God became the lamb of God, the cross became the
altar, and we were "made holy thorugh the sacrifice Christ made in his body once
and for all time" (Heb 10:10)...
His work in us.
Remember the words of Jesus to the Samaritan woman? "The water I give will
become a spring of water gushing up inside that person, giving eternal life"
(John 4:14)...Water, in this verse, is a picture of the Spirit of Jesus working
in us. He's not working to save us, mind you, that work is done. He's working to
change us. Here is how Paul phrased the process
Do the good things that result from being saved, obeying God with deep
reverence, shrinking back from all that might displease him. For God is at work
within you, helping you want to obey him, and then helping you do what he wants.
[Phil 2:12-13, TLB]

Or, in a parable C.S. Lewis borrowed from George MacDonald,

"Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of--throwing out a new wing there, putting on an extra floor there, running towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage, but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself."

How, then, can our labors ever compare to His? He, who, in His great love, tirelessly watches over us, relentlessly pursues us, faithfully stays with us?

2005-08-23T16:25:00.000+08:00

Read Aldous Huxley's Brave New World today which made me think about what it means to be human.

"But I like the inconveniences."
"We don't," said the Controller. "We prefer to do things comfortably."
"But I don't want comfort. I want God. I want poetry. I want real danger. I want freedom. I want goodness. I want sin."
"In fact," said Mustapha Mond. "You're claiming the right to be unhappy."
"Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent, the right to have syphilis and cancer, the right to have too little to eat, the right to be lousy, the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen tomorrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind." There was a long silence.
"I claim them all," said the Savage at last.

Musings on the Chocolate Factory

2005-08-11T13:41:00.000+08:00

"Everlasting Gobstoppers! They're completely new! I am inventing them for children who are given very little pocket money. You can put an Everlasting Gobstopper in your mouth and you can suck it and suck it and suck it and suck it and it will never get any smaller!... There's one of them being tested this very moment in the Testing Room next door. An Oompa-Loompa is sucking it. He's been sucking it for very nearly a year now without stopping, and it's still just as good as ever!" (Chapter 19)

I always judged a book by its cover when I was a child...if it had a beautiful cover, I would read it. I like the last cover (points up) the best, because it was the cover of the first copy I ever saw, and because it features Charlie stopping just before the gate of chocolate-land, not knowing yet that what is inside is going to change his life. Illustrations and covers are such important introductions to a book. Which is your favourite cover, or the cover of the first copy you ever owned? And, if you had to draw your own cover to CCF, what would you draw?

Would words have the same kind of effect? I don't know... But if I had to describe Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, using words, to a child who hasn't read it yet, I would say, very simply, that it is an everlasting gobstopper. Out of

EATABLE MARSHMALLOW PILLOWS
LICKABLE WALLPAPER FOR NURSERIES
HOT ICE CREAMS FOR COLD DAYS
COWS THAT GIVE CHOCOLATE MILK
FIZZY LIFTING DRINKS
SQUARE SWEETS THAT LOOK ROUND

and the other countless delectables that are being described in the book. And that is because, in WW's own words, an everlasting gobstopper can be sucked forever, without stopping, and it will still be as good as ever. And that is exactly what Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is.

A chocolate factory like Roald Dahl's constantly produces magical offerings, is able to make children (and adults) believe that anything, everything is possible. It is mad beyond belief...and yet, years and years after my first reading of the book, I still go back every now and then, to recover that sense of wonder and imagination, to ponder over what eatable marshmallow pillows are like, to taste sugary blades of minty grass in my mind, and to dwell in the realm of endless possibilities. And yet some of it is surprisingly sharp: it makes us question why adults use words without really thinking about them, perhaps alerting us to our desensitisation to what has become familiar and logical. For example, why don't we use whips to whip cream? Or why do we call a particular kind of sweet rock candy if we don't go down to the mines to get it? And why can't there be an oompa-loompa land just because geography hasn't discovered it?

That is to me the mark of a truly great children's book...its appeal to both children and adults, its capacity to make us question deepset, societal assumptions that we have always taken for granted, its constant demands on the imagination, asking very simple questions that sometimes have very difficult or no answers...accomplishing all this while at the same time providing hours, years, of riveting entertainment. (although I am quite aware that since literary criticism has deconstructed the concept of 'universalism', what I am saying is quite un-PC.) And I realise that all of my all-time favourite children's books, such as Alice in Wonderland, The Little Prince, have the ability to do that.

God's Army

2005-08-07T18:29:00.000+08:00

Was at the Festival of Praise last night and as we were singing one of the songs with the words "army of God" in the lyrics, this vision came into my mind: a vision of people marching and shouting and proclaiming the name of the Lord....there were shabbily dressed people, people of different stature and ages and races, people with scars and hurts, people who had perhaps been sneered at and despised by others all their lives...people like me. To other people they may have been a comical sight, with their unsightly gait and lack of uniformity. But I'm sure that God's heart was bursting with pride, for the hearts of these people were burning with fire for Him. And I just laughed out loud with joy, for it was all too beautiful.

"But [the Lord] said to [Paul], 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I (Paul) will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why for Christ's sake I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak then I am strong" (2 Cor 12:9-10)

This morning at church, just before service started, there was a serious car accident outside the gates. The car flipped over completely. How uncertain life is. How we have taken it for granted. And how realising that, Christians must arise and fight, to live each and every single day to the fullest.

Our weapons:

"Therefore put on the full armour of God...Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes with the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." (Ephesians 6: 13-17)

"For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretenion that sets itself up against the knowledge of God and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ" (2 Cor 10:3-5)

And so I will fight depression and hopelessness and dark and rainy days. I will fight voices that tell me not to swim against the tide, that I will never make it to the shore. No matter how hard it is, no matter how many times I fall, I will do it with the strength that Christ has given me.

"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline" (2 Timothy 1:7)

I will dare to live my life with courage and strength, and to believe in miracles, for I serve a most awesome God.

2005-08-03T18:48:00.000+08:00

Cinderella

I hid in your shadow, my prince,
exuded a lunar beauty,
clothed in the rays of reflected glory.
My jewels were hand-me-down bits of fame.
My sashes slivers of smiles left over
from the ones you did acknowledge.

You crowned me
with an evanescent tiara
Dressed me
in the gossamer of love
Bestowed upon me
indulgent glances,
pleased at the transformation you wrought.

The people bowed down and admired us
behind the veil of our weaving.

Then the clock struck twelve
and all vanished.
The coach turned into a pumpkin,
my splendour into rags.
Even you, most material part of my existence,
you disappeared without a trace,
a mere chimera.
The fairytale unravelled.
The glass slipper splintered,
into a thousand broken fragments.
I caught a glimpse of myself in some
and it was not a pretty sight.

But I will
rise from the ashes
back in my cellar
a lesser light no doubt
but at least my own.

God is so real!

2005-07-31T17:29:00.000+08:00

This morning I was feeling really down. I prayed for His comfort and assurance on my way to Church, but the weariness did not lift. However, Spirit Song came into my head when I was praying and I began to sing it while walking to church.

Oh let the Son of God enfold you
with his spirit and his love
let him fill your heart and satisfy your soul
Oh let him have the things that hold you
and his spirit like a dove
will descend upon your life
and make you whole.

Jesus oh Jesus
Come and fill your lambs (x2)

Oh come and sing this song with gladness
As your hearts are filled with joy
Lift your hands in sweet surrender
to his name.

Oh give him all your tears and sadness
give him all your years of pain
And you'll enter into life in Jesus' name.

And guess what? During the service, Spirit Song was sung. It was the only song which was not a hymn. When the lyrics were flashed on the powerpoint slide, I was really stunned. There are thousands, maybe millions of Christian songs in the world, but today, this day, that very moment, this song was sung. The effect was as if God were right beside me, speaking to me. I was so touched by God's presence and love that I started crying right there and then. The tears just flowed and flowed down my cheeks as I sang. Was it God singing it to me, or me singing it to God? We sang.

Then guess what else? The sermon today was on hearing God's voice, on God's omni-presence! (Gen 28:10-22--Jacob's dream). The preacher (Rev Dr. Norman Wong) asked us these questions: How does God speak to you? (the Bible, songs, praises, personal incidents). How often does God want to speak to you? (Everyday). What does the voice of God sound like? The preacher said: "A still, small voice." But I wanted to say to him, no, the voice of God, today, to me, is loud and clear. If it were any clearer, He would be shouting.

And He is saying, "I love you."

Jesus, you are truly my best and most intimate friend. You know what I am going to say even before I begin to verbalise it. You know what I need before I ask you for it. You complete my sentences, and much more importantly, you complete my life in a way that no one else can.

2005-07-29T23:08:00.000+08:00

Met up with Stephen today, feasted on chocolate prata and secret recipe cheese cakes. Then we came back to my house, and while tinkering on the piano, came up with this song together =) It was all really amazing...I was just picking out four notes on the piano...then Stephen was just making a tune out of those chords...then I said hey! that sounds like a Christian song (I heard "Shine for me" v clearly in my head when he was playing the first three notes) why don't we write one now? And we did! He did the tune and we both came up with the words. It was really fun! (haven't thought of a title for it though...any suggestions?) May this song be pleasing to the Lord.

(1) Shine for me, for I'm worthy
Go forth and share my love
Hang in for me, do it through me
I'm with you through the darkest hour.

(2) If our lives are broken when given to You
It's because pieces will feed a multitude
While a loaf will satisfy only a few.

Jesus piece us again
so you may use us your way.
help us see through the clouds
to see your shining face.

Jesus show us the way
so that we'll rise again
until we can say
for you our hearts are set aflame.

2005-07-27T22:45:00.000+08:00

Am fed up with films and shows that seem to contain the (extremely fallacious, in my opinion) message that romantic love is the panache to all of humankind's ills. It seems that no matter what race or creed or age you are, all your problems will be magically solved once you meet your soulmate, or find someone who will accept you *as you are*, that people should spend their lives searching for their *one true love*, that things will somehow click and fall into place and you will *just know* that he/she is the right one for you, and the other people you have been with will somehow seem totally wrong compared to him/her. It just seems to me that romantic love is a sinister ideological concept used to sell products (and films). It is so scary that people can actually spend their lives chasing after something so fleeting the minute you think you have grasped it, it slips away (to want = to desire, and to lack at the same time). Or have I become too cynical?

siren
n 1: a sea nymph (part woman and part bird) supposed to lure sailors to destruction on the rocks where the nymphs lived; "Odysseus ordered his crew to plug their ears so they would not hear the Siren's fatal song" [syn: Siren] 2: a woman who is considered to be dangerously seductive [syn: enchantress, temptress, Delilah, femme fatale] 3: a warning signal that is a loud wailing sound 4: an acoustic device producing a loud often wailing sound as a signal or warning 5: eel-like aquatic North American salamander with small forelimbs and no hind limbs; have permanent external gills

Siren Song

This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistable:

the song that forces men
to leap overboard in squadrons
even though they see the beached skulls

the song nobody knows
because anyone who has heard it
is dead, and the others can't remember.

Shall I tell you the secret
and if I do, will you get me
out of this bird suit?

I don't enjoy it here
squatting on this island
looking picturesque and mythical

with these two feathery maniacs,
I don't enjoy singing
this trio, fatal and valuable.

I will tell the secret to you,
to you, only to you.
Come closer. This song

is a cry for help. Help me!
Only you, only you can,
you are unique.

At last. Alas,
it is a boring song
but it works everytime.

(Margaret Atwood)

2005-07-26T21:35:00.000+08:00

Spent the day reading Mil Millington's Things my Girlfriend and I have argued about. It is funny and entertaining in quite a sad, voyeuristic, uneventful kind of way. I had no idea that ordinary, humdrum conversation and arguments could be so fascinating (if I did I would have recorded my own and written a book as well). Anyway, this is a conversation between Pel and his girlfriend Ursula:

"Did you hear that?"
"No."
"I'm sure I heard the door bang."
"It was probably just a dog somewhere."
"Yes, because--at night--a dog barking is almost indistinguishable from the sound of a door being smashed open, isn't it? Idiot..."
"I didn't say a dog barking"
"Quiet. Listen..."
I listened. I heard silence.
"Well, I can't hear anything"
"Go down and have a look."
"Oh for God's sake."
"Go on. You're the man."
"Why do your feminist principles always vaporise when one of us needs to get out of a warm bed and clomp downstairs at three o'clock in the mornings?"
"What if there's someone down there? Do you want me to be murdered?"
"Do you want me to be murdered?"
"Just shut up and have a look downstairs, will you? It--there! You must have heard that!"

It is supremely funny and inane. But it is sad at the same time. It is so hard to love another person, be it friend, parent, or lover. It is even harder to communicate love. How do you tell or show someone "I love you", even if (big premise) you mean it with all your heart? You may not be speaking in the correct "love language" the other person needs to hear (cf. The Five Love Languages), or it may be misconstrued as an attempt to get the other person to commit to the relationship (cf. What Men Want).

How do we say "I love you" in words, in poetry, in literature?
As Umberto Eco wrote, we can only say, "As Barbara Cartland would say, 'I love you madly'" But we cannot actually say, "I love you madly" because it would be deemed an awful cliche. In a Carol Ann Duffy poem "Words, Wide Night": "For I am in love with you, and this is what it is like, or what it is like in words". There is always something lost once feelings become transmitted to paper, to words: it fossilises, formalises the feeling, opens it up to interpretation, and perhaps ends up falsifying it, since the word "love" has become such an ideological concept in popular culture.

In a post-Freudian world, we are

"children of a time and culture that mistrust love, 'in love', romantic love, romance in toto, and which nevertheless in revenge proliferated sexual language, linguistic sexuality, analysis, dissection, deconstruction, exposure...theoretically knowing...about phallocracy and penisneid, punctuation, puncturing and penetration, and polymorphous and polysemous perversity, orality, good and bad breasts, clitoral tumescence, vesicle persecution, the fluids, the solids, the metaphors for these, the systems of desire and damage, the infantile greed and oppression and transgression, the iconography of the cervix and the imagery of the expanding and contracting Body, desired, attacked, consumed and feared" (from A.S. Byatt's Possession)

Sometimes I despair, thinking that we live in towers of words and euphemisms and ideologies that make reaching out to other people also living in their own towers so difficult.

Love in action is more effective...Jesus washed the feet of His disciples. He died for them, for us. Yet, as someone who loves words, I do wish (vainly, I know) that language were not so capricious or divisive, or (like us) of a fallen nature.

2005-07-24T23:36:00.000+08:00

Every Sunday, I thank God that I am able to go to church each week to worship Him when I remember what He has done for me. My mother used to refuse to let me go to church when I was still a young Christian. I begged and prayed and cried and fought, and finally, she gave in, on the condition that my grades remained constant. I think she thought that spending time in church would affect my studies. I prayed...and the Lord answered, placing me on the Dean's List for not just one, but three consecutive semesters (before that my CAP was relatively low). God really never does things by halves...when we take one baby step towards Him, He runs towards us.

The Life of Pi

2005-07-22T17:05:00.000+08:00

Spent the whole day like a castaway on an island, reading Yann Martel's The Life of Pi. Survived for hours on mugs of hot tea and juice, unable to tear myself away from the book. I don't know why I didn't get to reading it sooner. It is sad and funny and poignant and lucid all at the same time. And most of all, it makes me think about how unbelievable and strange and wonderful it is just to be alive.

What I really liked about it was that it went one step beyond the postmodern doubt/ existential angst that is so fashionable now: the question of is it ever possible to know anything for sure? True, there is some of that in the book, especially when they are interviewing Pi after he survives the shipwreck and he talks about the process of storytelling, and gives them two stories because they don't believe the first one.

"Isn't telling about something--using words, English or Japanese--already something of an invention? Isn't just looking upon this world already something of an invention?...The world isn't just the way it is. It is how we understand it, no? And in understanding something, we bring something to it, no? Doesn't that make life a story?" (302)

But he doesn't stop there. Earlier on,

"I'll be honest about it. It is not atheists who get stuck in my craw, but agnostics. Doubt is useful for a while. We must all pass through the garden of Gethsemane. If Christ played with doubt, so much we. If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if He burst out from the Cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" then surely we are also permitted doubt. But we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation." (28)

Now, which story are you gonna believe in?

On shopping (in small doses)

2005-07-21T20:22:00.000+08:00

Have been doing quite a lot of shopping these few days...hoping to make the most out of the GSS before it ends! heh. I seriously love shopping...a good buy (esp. earrings!) rarely fails to cheer me up, I have read the entire Shopaholics series and there is v little like shopping together for girl bonding. Just read India Knight's On Shopping: Which Gladdens the Heart. She says: "To this day, my mother and I are at utter peace with one another when shopping, whether we're scrutinising a patisserie display, trying to choose a cake for tea, or buying shoes together....In my experience, when push comes to shove, women shopping together--any kind of shopping, any kind of women--always leads to some kind of ceasefire." It's the equivalent of golf I guess...and you don't even need to invest in any expensive equipment or spend hours under the sun! Knight also has advice on how to deal with nasty salesgirls, how to have absolutely perfect-seeming skin, how to look effortlessly, classically chic, even if you're crap at makeup etc. v useful and entertaining stuff.

Surprised by Joy

2005-07-19T16:32:00.000+08:00

If anyone had asked me a few weeks ago, what would you do if --------- happened? I would have answered kill myself, write page after page of whiny and sad poetry, or both. (I was that kind of person, I know). But as it is I feel insanely happy, and there is so much indescribable joy and lightness in my heart I want to sing and dance. It is not because I have gone mad from the blow. It is because something amazing has happened to me. Christ has shown me that the things I felt I had to cling onto with all my might and strength in order to be happy are meaningless compared to what I have in Him. And if it has taken the loss of these things in order for me to hear His music and His heartbeat and feel His love for me, it is infinitely worth it.

It is because I have finally found the missing jigsaw piece to my heart, the reason for living. It is because I know now that my world can crash and I can still rejoice and emerge victorious, with the strength that He has given me. It is because I know now that nothing can really hurt me anymore. It is because I have finally found my identity in Him, as God's precious child, something that nobody can take away from me...and not as Dean's List student, Dean's List wannabe, or so-and-so's girlfriend. It is because when I thought that I was happy for the past few years and I had everything I wanted but did not really know Him, I was really empty and hollow and insecure and fearful and ugly inside...and now I know the truth. And the truth has set me free.

And I am not going to kill myself. Because my life has already been bought, and at a very dear price. Jesus, light of my life, lover of my soul, help me to live for you, to give you praise and thanks each and every day of my life, to fall madly and genuinely in love with you, to weep tears of joy, because you are so amazing, because you never fail to surprise me, because you are the Lord.

2005-07-19T15:05:00.000+08:00

Was just looking at my Corrinne May cd (a gift from ZJ) when she happened to sms me at the exact same moment! I love most of the songs, esp. this one. (and also Journey, but the way Angela Chang sang that put me off quite a bit)

All that I need

I'm sorry that I hurt you
I took for granted all you gave
so freely to me
I pray it's not too late
To save you from a broken heart
To promise you
I'll make a brand new start
Believe me, when I say

(chorus) You are all I need
The only treasure I seek
You're the air that helps me breathe
through the darkest night when
I fall down on my knees
I was blind but now I see
You are all that I need

You know I'm far from perfect
Like a child that needs a guiding hand
Can you stay here with me?
I finally understand
You've always been the missing part
Complete the jigsaw puzzle of my heart
Please hear me, when I say

(chorus)

Please
let me hear your voice again
let me hear you say
your love will never end
That whatever it takes you'll be there
Believe me, when I say

(chorus)

Pictures of Miaka, beloved and very fat cat

2005-07-18T23:34:00.000+08:00

2005-07-17T23:29:00.000+08:00

The sermon today was on "Barriers to Love". It really brought home the message that careless words can be divisive, and can cause hurt and pain both within and without the faith community. Oftentimes, when you say something you don't really mean, you can't take back the hurt you have caused, or the damage you have done. "In your anger do not sin"....how true.

Watched Down with Love on VCD in the evening...love the costumes and sets and the big earrings which are really gorgeous (I esp. love the jet black and gold pair which Vickie wore). And I love the part when Barbara tells Catcher that she can't marry him and live in the suburbs because in wanting to become a Down with Love girl, she has actually become her (if only I could become somebody else if I believed hard enough!) I would have liked it to have stopped there...the ending was a tart too far-flung for me...a weird fusion of feminist meets fairytale-happy-ever-after.

2005-07-14T22:26:00.000+08:00

I graduated today, amidst champagne fizz, bear hugs, camera flashes and congratulatory messages, my family and friends all around me. Exhaust the little moment, for it too, will come to pass...I hope that I have learnt not to be too blase about moments such as these.

From Oprah Winfrey's Commencement Address to Wellesley College, 1997:

1. Life is a journey...every experience is here to teach you more fully how to be who you really are.
2. When people show you who they are, believe them, the first time.
3. Turn your wounds into wisdom. You will be wounded many times in your life. You'll make mistakes. Some people call them failures but I have learned that failure is really God's way of saying, "Excuse me, you're moving in the wrong direction."
4. Be grateful.
5. Create the highest, grandest vision possible for your life because you become what you believe.

2005-07-13T10:35:00.000+08:00

The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.
"Who are you?" said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly: "I--I hardly know, Sir, just at present--at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then."

I thought this was what I wanted. I thought I knew...who I wanted to be, where I wanted to go. Grades and awards...once so important, now something I don't really care about anymore. People who once meant the world to me, tore themselves suddenly, rapidly, unceremoniously away. Have I been spending the past few years building sandcastles...only to see them crash and fall when the waves come, as I stand by helpless to save my dearest dreams? Miscarried hopes and fantasies...carefully-laid plans knocked down like a pack of cards. Old melodies ring in my head...reminders of failure, hopelessness, brokenness, feelings which I thought were safely tucked away, now let loose. It is as if someone were carefully peeling off my skin and exposing all my inadequacies and artifices and flaws and mistakes and insides, which I had tried to hide for so long. I don't have the courage to face myself, the mistakes I made, the people around me, the life ahead of me. But I just want to let You know I know:

There is one place I can always go to

And that is Home to you

My Lord and my God.

2005-07-11T11:01:00.000+08:00

After Great Pain

After great pain, a formal feeling comes--
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs--
The stiff heart questions was it He that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round--
of Ground, or Air, or Ought--
A Wooden way,
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone--

This is the Hour of Lead--
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons recollect the Snow--
First--chill--then stupor--then the letting go--

(Emily Dickinson)

As we sat by the river, your eyes were silent and expressionless, when only days before so much pain and resentment had spilled out. I wish you would yell at me, fight with me, talk to me...if only to show you still cared. But we had nothing more to say to each other, like strangers who had never cried together, laughed together, opened their hearts to each other, and spent some of the best years of their lives together. I wanted to ask if you still remembered you once said that there would always be a room in your heart for me (laughingly, I had requested for the basement room, so I would always be deep down in your heart). But words and tears had simply become superfluous, as had this last parting scene, a funeral ceremony for the time we had spent together, memorialising the dead spent past, yet knowing that nothing would ever bring it back to life again.

2005-07-09T23:28:00.000+08:00

Read Max Lucado's Travelling Light and these words really touched me: "You have a God who hears you, the power of love behind you, the Holy Spirit within you, and all of Heaven ahead of you. If you have the Shepherd, you have grace for every sin, direction for every turn, a candle for every corner, and an anchor for every storm. You have everything you need."

Emmaus 27/6-30/6

2005-07-07T20:41:00.000+08:00

I went for this Emmaus Walk (a spiritual retreat of sorts) with a laden heart. Praying in the chapel on the second day, I told God all about my fears, my insecurities. When I did not hear anything, I began to panic--I prayed harder, and even asked: "Where are you when I need you most?" Perhaps He was waiting for me to quieten down and be still before He spoke, just as he did with Job. As I left the chapel, depressed and alone, the Lord impressed upon my heart: "I am with you". And I felt a sense of peace. I asked for confirmation. And these verses (from which the Walk to Emmaus is named) were brought to my mind:

Now that same day two of them were going to a village called
Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other
about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things
with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them, but they were
kept from recognising him....When he was at the table, he took bread, gave
thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and
they recognised him, and he disappeared from their sight. They asked each other,
"Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and
oepned the Scriptures to us?" They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem.
There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together, and saying:
"It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon". Then the two told
what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognised by them when he broke
the bread. (Luke 24:13-35)

And I realised and it was as if my own eyes were opened at last. The Lord is always with us; it is just that we do not always know or recognise Him. The words were always there, but we have not always understood. And the Lord of Creation, of Heaven and Earth spoke to me, to me! Loves me! I just cannot get over that...Thank you, Father -- just knowing of your awesome presence makes all the difference.

My blog is finally up!

2005-07-05T19:40:00.000+08:00

finally got my blog to work...with a lot of help from my sis (thanks girl...you're a genius!)