there are days where i feel like the bird i wrote about in april - bent, wretched and forced into a position i do not want to be in.
The bad days never last as long as they did before I was a Christian but nevertheless they do make their appearances - a brief but still impactful presence.
1 Pet 4:11 says "Whoever speaks must do so as one speaking the very words of God; whoever serves must do so with the strength that God supplies, so that God may be glorified in all things through Jesus Christ."
I find these words both inspiring and intimidating. The last thing you want to do when you are stuck in sorrow and pain is to glorify God and exhort His ways. You don't want to pray for the enemy, you want to hurt them. You don't want to be the upright, godly person all the time...it's not always fun, and it's tiring at times. Sometimes playing the whiney, discontent just looks so much more cathartic.
When tears want to come out and when your heart wants to hurt, they will do so whether you like it or not. No matter how much you prepare your heart and gird it with steel determination, you cannot stop them. Pain will have its wicked way with you.
I wish encouragement was found in every minutae of life. I wish every person around me was a fount of confidence and delight I can draw from. I wish everything was perfect.
But the jarring ugliness of family quarrels, the distances between people and the remnants of hopes dashed continue to haunt each day. Like ghosts, they remind me that I do not live in a perfect world.
Sorry, my dear Belinda Carlise, much as you and I want it to be - Heaven Is most certainly Not A Place On Earth.
In Psalms 73:26, we are reminded "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever"
Bent but not broken, God picks up each of us and and urges, "Walk on. I will be the strength in you. I will be the column that holds up the broken pieces." Sometimes He is gentle about it and picks us up by the hand, sometimes He is forceful and picks you up by the scruff of your neck.
Either way, He picks you up and moves your feet stubbornly back on course. He is firm about it.
I learnt an important truth in 1 Peter 2:9 "But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light."
I used to find those words stirring simply because of the cadence, choice of words and imagery. Its quite another thing when you look at those words and see that God means it. It's not fancy rhetoric. That's when the words become truly scary and truly encouraging.
We are more than ordinary people. Somehow we have become a royal priesthood. And priests more than their duties of spiritual sacrifice and upright living are called to preserve the truth of God for who else would do so?
So in pain, I have a choice. I can mourn and mope and fling it in people's faces for no other reason than how good it makes me feel to just let go and be irresponsible.
Or I can remember that the world has enough of people like that, inside and outside the church. If I add to that, I am just propagating the very culture that I wish to stop.
LIke it or not, I have a truth to preserve and hold onto, no matter what my circumstance. I must not take away courage from another person, I must not take away their joy, I must not undermine their faith. I must not allow my petty grieviances, my short-term pains become the root of someone else's long-term doubt.
There is a Truth in the world and it takes the choices of ordinary men and women to preserve it. If I know better, I must not be found wanting at any moment. I do not have the luxury of ignorance.
I cannot. I must not. I will not give in to Temptation. God will see to it. I know He will.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Grace makes beauty out of ugly things
Been listening to U2's "Grace", the last track from their All That You Leave Behind CD.
I like U2 and I find them a fascinating band though I don't really know their discography that well. But I like how
Bono thinks - he calls the Psalms the Blues of the Bible, he inspires scores of non-Christians to pore over his lyrics for religious meanings, he goes all out to court the American church to work with him on his anti-poverty One project, and he continues to write songs like this, even in the face of criticisms from the conservative church.
The man is cool. (and so are penguins. just wanted an excuse to blog yet another penguin image. haha)
___________
"Grace, she takes the blame
She covers the shame
Removes the stain
It could be her name
Grace, it's a name for a girl
It's also a thought that changed the world
And when she walks on the street
You can hear the strings
Grace finds goodness in everything
Grace, she's got the walk
Not on a ramp or on chalk
She's got the time to talk
She travels outside of karma, karma
She travels outside of karma
When she goes to work
You can hear the strings
Grace finds beauty in everything
Grace, she carries a world on her hips
No champagne flute for her lips
No twirls or skips between her fingertips
She carries a pearl in perfect condition
What once was hurt, what once was friction
What left a mark no longer stains
Because Grace makes beauty out of ugly things
Grace finds beauty in everything
Grace finds goodness in everything "
I like U2 and I find them a fascinating band though I don't really know their discography that well. But I like how
Bono thinks - he calls the Psalms the Blues of the Bible, he inspires scores of non-Christians to pore over his lyrics for religious meanings, he goes all out to court the American church to work with him on his anti-poverty One project, and he continues to write songs like this, even in the face of criticisms from the conservative church.
The man is cool. (and so are penguins. just wanted an excuse to blog yet another penguin image. haha)
___________
"Grace, she takes the blame
She covers the shame
Removes the stain
It could be her name
Grace, it's a name for a girl
It's also a thought that changed the world
And when she walks on the street
You can hear the strings
Grace finds goodness in everything
Grace, she's got the walk
Not on a ramp or on chalk
She's got the time to talk
She travels outside of karma, karma
She travels outside of karma
When she goes to work
You can hear the strings
Grace finds beauty in everything
Grace, she carries a world on her hips
No champagne flute for her lips
No twirls or skips between her fingertips
She carries a pearl in perfect condition
What once was hurt, what once was friction
What left a mark no longer stains
Because Grace makes beauty out of ugly things
Grace finds beauty in everything
Grace finds goodness in everything "
Friday, August 26, 2005
All Fear The Tongue of Terror!!
you know God is a clever clogs. He forewarned us in the Bible many many times about the need to tame that tiny little rudder in our body called the tongue.
We forget that this silly little slab of pink meat can really raise a mighty mountain-sized ruckus. Sit, tongue, sit! Roll over, play dead! We must watch it carefully - it's such a nasty waggly powerful thing.
Pat Robertson, the biggie in America's Religious Right has really shot himself in the foot this time by calling for the assasination of Venezuelan President Chavez on public television. BAH. No wonder people think Christians are religious crackpots. So much for Thou Shall Not Kill, eh.
The guy was the same one who declared 9/11 was due to the rise of feminists and liberals and only true Christians can vote for Bush.
For the record, Robertson apologised in different stages when faced with uproar of public disapproval - first, he said he never said it. then, he said people misunderstood his use of the word "assasinate". THEN, he said he was frustrated so he did not mean what he said.
Argh. Why can't the man just come out and say he was wrong once and for all instead of making an array of excuses? It might have did at least some modicum of good to clean the mess he made.
sigh. ok. please Pat, please, please, no more, no more of those comments. If you worship God, you gotta stop, man. Meanwhile, shall take this as big reminder to measure, measure, measure every thing I say before putting it out there to the world.
We forget that this silly little slab of pink meat can really raise a mighty mountain-sized ruckus. Sit, tongue, sit! Roll over, play dead! We must watch it carefully - it's such a nasty waggly powerful thing.
Pat Robertson, the biggie in America's Religious Right has really shot himself in the foot this time by calling for the assasination of Venezuelan President Chavez on public television. BAH. No wonder people think Christians are religious crackpots. So much for Thou Shall Not Kill, eh.
The guy was the same one who declared 9/11 was due to the rise of feminists and liberals and only true Christians can vote for Bush.
For the record, Robertson apologised in different stages when faced with uproar of public disapproval - first, he said he never said it. then, he said people misunderstood his use of the word "assasinate". THEN, he said he was frustrated so he did not mean what he said.
Argh. Why can't the man just come out and say he was wrong once and for all instead of making an array of excuses? It might have did at least some modicum of good to clean the mess he made.
sigh. ok. please Pat, please, please, no more, no more of those comments. If you worship God, you gotta stop, man. Meanwhile, shall take this as big reminder to measure, measure, measure every thing I say before putting it out there to the world.
Cute Is the New Cool
Am dying to watch March of the Penguins so I can seriously O.D. on cuteness of little fluffy baby penguins.
arghhhhhhhhhhh! look at the little wings! and that puffy paunch. awwww. argh. too. cute. can. die.
From the movie website:
"Guided by instinct, by the otherworldly radiance of the Southern Cross, in single file, the Emperor penguins march across the pitiless ice deserts of Antarctica - blinded by blizzards, buffeted by gale force winds. Resolute, indomitable, driven by the overpowering urge to reproduce, to assure the survival of the species.
The females remain long enough only to lay a single egg. Once this is accomplished, exhausted by weeks without nourishment, they begin their return journey across the ice-field to the fish-filled seas. The journey is hazardous, and rapacious leopard seals a predatory threat. The male emperors are left behind to guard and hatch the precious eggs, which they cradle at all times on top of their feet. Subjected to subzero temperatures and the terrible trials of the polar winter, they too face great dangers.
After two long months during which the males eat nothing, the eggs begin to hatch. Once they have emerged into their ghostly white new world, the chicks can not survive for long on their fathers' limited food reserves. If their mothers are late returning from the ocean with food, the newly-hatched young will die.
Once the families are reunited, the roles reverse, the mothers remaining with their new young while their mates head, exhausted and starved, for the sea, and food. While the adults fish, the chicks face the ever-present threat of attack by prowling giant petrels. As the weather grows warmer and the ice floes finally begin to crack and melt, the adults will repeat their arduous journey countless times, marching many hundreds of miles over some of the most treacherous territory on Earth, until the chicks are ready to take their first faltering dive into the deep blue waters of the Antarctic.
arghhhhhhhhhhh! look at the little wings! and that puffy paunch. awwww. argh. too. cute. can. die.
From the movie website:
"Guided by instinct, by the otherworldly radiance of the Southern Cross, in single file, the Emperor penguins march across the pitiless ice deserts of Antarctica - blinded by blizzards, buffeted by gale force winds. Resolute, indomitable, driven by the overpowering urge to reproduce, to assure the survival of the species.
The females remain long enough only to lay a single egg. Once this is accomplished, exhausted by weeks without nourishment, they begin their return journey across the ice-field to the fish-filled seas. The journey is hazardous, and rapacious leopard seals a predatory threat. The male emperors are left behind to guard and hatch the precious eggs, which they cradle at all times on top of their feet. Subjected to subzero temperatures and the terrible trials of the polar winter, they too face great dangers.
After two long months during which the males eat nothing, the eggs begin to hatch. Once they have emerged into their ghostly white new world, the chicks can not survive for long on their fathers' limited food reserves. If their mothers are late returning from the ocean with food, the newly-hatched young will die.
Once the families are reunited, the roles reverse, the mothers remaining with their new young while their mates head, exhausted and starved, for the sea, and food. While the adults fish, the chicks face the ever-present threat of attack by prowling giant petrels. As the weather grows warmer and the ice floes finally begin to crack and melt, the adults will repeat their arduous journey countless times, marching many hundreds of miles over some of the most treacherous territory on Earth, until the chicks are ready to take their first faltering dive into the deep blue waters of the Antarctic.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
You must be the Change you wish to see in the world
"You must be the change you wish to see in the world" - Mahatma Gandhi
On my school walls, hangs four posters I designed in the vain hope of inspiring my kids. I love a good quote - beautifully crafted words, punched with the right attitude, stylishly delivered, served with chutzpah. Gandhi's quote is one of my favourites because it reminds me that change starts with one small decision in one small corner. This David in a dohti outlasted his Goliath colonial masters in a game of who blinks first.
The Tim Chester book (Good News For the Poor) I have been reading has come to a particularly challenging chapter. He pointed out that the Bible never focuses on the multitude of ways to evangelise or the number and type of social initiatives that churches ought to have. The Bible just focuses on mindsets and attitudes - it just demands that the Church lives in a godly loving manner as befitting their new identity as Kingdom of God citizens and priests. The Church changes the world by changing the culture - It becomes a society that hints at heaven...where widow and orphan is cared for; where riches are shared; where the poor are given due respect; where a King will eat with the Damned...
Paraphrasing Gandhi somewhat, we have to live changed lives if we want to see change in this world. But how do we do so knowing our human limitations?
I have been learning how much I need to change within myself since TissueAunty and TissueJunior (her son) started to clean my school last week.
They have been a great source of encouragement. Jnr. has been particularly cute: last week, he paused several times in his obsessive polishing of scuffmarks to remark gently in Chinese, "God is a mysterious God isn't he? Don't worry, we won't let you down. We will clean this place very beautifully." He even chided his mother for wanting to leave early for a doctor's appointment because they had not managed to deliver on their promise to turn my floors into The Mother Of All Clean Floors. (They eventually went for the appointment after many assurances from me that I was not going to get angry with them about a half-clean floor)
The diligence and dignity that they went about carrying out their work was really poignant and moving. They wanted so much to be recognised as good, worthy workers not pitiful charity cases. They wanted to be seen as fellow human beings, fellow worthy citizens.
I realised that very often when I gave to the poor I gave in a middle class way: Have some cash, have some food, but you will never be in my Social Circle. I realised my offers to throw cash at the problem, buy them clothes, or pay for their cab-fares was demeaning them some how. It's not wrong per se to donate to the poor but it does not really "Strengthen the Weak" in the long run.
Strengthening the Weak in terms of helping the poor, means praying for them, empowering them, giving them a voice, educating them, associating with them, eating with them, talking to them like normal human beings. - Basically not treating them like charity projects.
I am scared. I realise it was easy when Tissue Aunty was just in "charity project" stage where I had a safe comfort zone still. Now, I am in a discomforting zone in daylight, away from the fumes of the road, no longer privy to the option of walking away and feeling good about myself.
Caring for someone does not mean caring in spurts - just enough to make me feel generous; not enough to actually make a longterm difference.
Sitting next to her in church service, I was acutely aware that when she was temporarily homeless, she smelt unwashed and sour. Hearing her jovially invite me to come to her home for her son's birthday party, I was acutely aware of my hesitancy to say "Yes thank you!". Knowing that she wanted to come more often for service, I was acutely aware that I did not want to "hang out" with her that much or feel responsible for her every week.
I became acutely and suddenly aware of how I wanted to minister to the poor on my own terms: Please be a certain way, please don't ask me to be more involved in your life, please oh horrors, don't ask me to become your close friend!
There you go the not so glamourous truth about reaching out to the marginalised. Theorising passionately about noble ministering to the poor is all well and good. Practicing is the clincher that tests your pretty words and living-room convictions.
Verdict: What a shallow horror I can be! I want to be a far better better person than the one I was thinking those thoughts.
Am I discouraged or depressed at these new insights into my depravity?
No, thank God literally! :)
My hope of "Being the Change I wish to see in the world" does not lie in my twisted mind, black heart and reluctant will.
My hope lies in knowing God is working within and through me. While I remain in Him, He will strengthen my mind, lighten my heart and be the force behind my will to do all these new, scary things that He asks me to do.
As for now, I have PROFOUND new respect for my Saviour Christ who sat, related and supped with the underdogs of society.
I bet they smelt. I bet they could not speak properly. I bet they clamoured for him to come to their homes, to share their hospitality. I bet nobody else wanted to hang out with them.
He did it. He loved them and helped them see they were precious and worthy of fellowship.
I bet He washed their feet.
One day, I wanna be just like Him.
How sweet to know that He whispers across the heavens, barely audible through the ink and paper of the Bible, "Trust me...and you shall someday. Meanwhile trust, obey, love and wait."
May His Kingdom come and His will be done indeed. :)
On my school walls, hangs four posters I designed in the vain hope of inspiring my kids. I love a good quote - beautifully crafted words, punched with the right attitude, stylishly delivered, served with chutzpah. Gandhi's quote is one of my favourites because it reminds me that change starts with one small decision in one small corner. This David in a dohti outlasted his Goliath colonial masters in a game of who blinks first.
The Tim Chester book (Good News For the Poor) I have been reading has come to a particularly challenging chapter. He pointed out that the Bible never focuses on the multitude of ways to evangelise or the number and type of social initiatives that churches ought to have. The Bible just focuses on mindsets and attitudes - it just demands that the Church lives in a godly loving manner as befitting their new identity as Kingdom of God citizens and priests. The Church changes the world by changing the culture - It becomes a society that hints at heaven...where widow and orphan is cared for; where riches are shared; where the poor are given due respect; where a King will eat with the Damned...
Paraphrasing Gandhi somewhat, we have to live changed lives if we want to see change in this world. But how do we do so knowing our human limitations?
I have been learning how much I need to change within myself since TissueAunty and TissueJunior (her son) started to clean my school last week.
They have been a great source of encouragement. Jnr. has been particularly cute: last week, he paused several times in his obsessive polishing of scuffmarks to remark gently in Chinese, "God is a mysterious God isn't he? Don't worry, we won't let you down. We will clean this place very beautifully." He even chided his mother for wanting to leave early for a doctor's appointment because they had not managed to deliver on their promise to turn my floors into The Mother Of All Clean Floors. (They eventually went for the appointment after many assurances from me that I was not going to get angry with them about a half-clean floor)
The diligence and dignity that they went about carrying out their work was really poignant and moving. They wanted so much to be recognised as good, worthy workers not pitiful charity cases. They wanted to be seen as fellow human beings, fellow worthy citizens.
I realised that very often when I gave to the poor I gave in a middle class way: Have some cash, have some food, but you will never be in my Social Circle. I realised my offers to throw cash at the problem, buy them clothes, or pay for their cab-fares was demeaning them some how. It's not wrong per se to donate to the poor but it does not really "Strengthen the Weak" in the long run.
Strengthening the Weak in terms of helping the poor, means praying for them, empowering them, giving them a voice, educating them, associating with them, eating with them, talking to them like normal human beings. - Basically not treating them like charity projects.
I am scared. I realise it was easy when Tissue Aunty was just in "charity project" stage where I had a safe comfort zone still. Now, I am in a discomforting zone in daylight, away from the fumes of the road, no longer privy to the option of walking away and feeling good about myself.
Caring for someone does not mean caring in spurts - just enough to make me feel generous; not enough to actually make a longterm difference.
Sitting next to her in church service, I was acutely aware that when she was temporarily homeless, she smelt unwashed and sour. Hearing her jovially invite me to come to her home for her son's birthday party, I was acutely aware of my hesitancy to say "Yes thank you!". Knowing that she wanted to come more often for service, I was acutely aware that I did not want to "hang out" with her that much or feel responsible for her every week.
I became acutely and suddenly aware of how I wanted to minister to the poor on my own terms: Please be a certain way, please don't ask me to be more involved in your life, please oh horrors, don't ask me to become your close friend!
There you go the not so glamourous truth about reaching out to the marginalised. Theorising passionately about noble ministering to the poor is all well and good. Practicing is the clincher that tests your pretty words and living-room convictions.
Verdict: What a shallow horror I can be! I want to be a far better better person than the one I was thinking those thoughts.
Am I discouraged or depressed at these new insights into my depravity?
No, thank God literally! :)
My hope of "Being the Change I wish to see in the world" does not lie in my twisted mind, black heart and reluctant will.
My hope lies in knowing God is working within and through me. While I remain in Him, He will strengthen my mind, lighten my heart and be the force behind my will to do all these new, scary things that He asks me to do.
As for now, I have PROFOUND new respect for my Saviour Christ who sat, related and supped with the underdogs of society.
I bet they smelt. I bet they could not speak properly. I bet they clamoured for him to come to their homes, to share their hospitality. I bet nobody else wanted to hang out with them.
He did it. He loved them and helped them see they were precious and worthy of fellowship.
I bet He washed their feet.
One day, I wanna be just like Him.
How sweet to know that He whispers across the heavens, barely audible through the ink and paper of the Bible, "Trust me...and you shall someday. Meanwhile trust, obey, love and wait."
May His Kingdom come and His will be done indeed. :)
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Finding Happiness
Last night, I got a poignant message from an old friend: "When do you think I am happiest? Is happiness part of a Christian living?"
The message had an air of nostalgia. My old friend has always struggled with finding happiness and feeling whole. Sadness about past mistakes and regrets clung onto him like a vice. In his most morose moments, he would ask me if I would turn up for his funeral or write him a eulogy. At on point, he had a semi-serious death wish.
The only thing that kept him moving one foot after another in his life somehow was his almost foolhardy trust in Jesus Christ's love and grace. He depended on it so much for his life to mean something. He clung on to Christ's promises that somehow he mattered. When I stood next to him to sing praise songs, i remembered how much feeling he put into the words and how much yearning for hope was etched in his upraised face and palms.
When you think about it, it's crazy. How can the touchy-feely claims of some ancient Jewish madman actually give confidence to anyone? How on earth does knowing Jesus help anyone through their life?
I don't need much to be happy - I just need a friend, a meaningful conversation, a good dream, some random cute stray animal or beautiful Italian sunshine, pretty colours, and I am blissed out.
But this Happiness is a strange, fickle thing. It runs away sometimes when you want it to stay. No matter how much you cling on to it, it slips eel-like away. Happiness can be found in things of this world to a certain limit. After all, there is much that is given to us on this earth that is good.
Pastor Chris talked today about how children tear through their carefully wrapped gifts gleefully, sometimes recklessly, so fixated on the joys of the gift within, without a care for who the giver is. Who cares whether it is Daddy or Grandma who bought me the latest PS2? But when we grow up, we start to realise the best part about the gift is actually the giver. In our adulthood, we have slowly learnt that sometimes we get presents that we do not really like, or cannot really appreciate for now, or gifts that fall short of our high expectations. But nevertheless you honour the giver because you have recognised that the giver's intentions were always more important than the gift. If we want to find real happiness in the gifts we have been blessed with in our life, we need to lift our heads from our mad scramble to give thanks to the giver - God.
At the tuesday fellowship, somebody read an anti-Psalm 23, to make his point about why he was a christian. He said writing the antithesis of the famous Psalm / Serenity Prayer showed what life without christ was like.
"The Lord is not my shepherd.
I shall always want.
I cannot find those green pastures
I will not find the still waters
My soul is unwhole, unrestored
I wander down paths of unrighteousness
Yea, as I walk through that valley shadowed by Death,
I do fear evil:
for nobody is with me;
Nothing comforts me.
Nobody prepares a table for me in the presence of my enemies:
Nobody blesses my life and the cup of my life is drained empty.
Surely horror and wrath shall follow me all the days of my life
and I will dwell outside the gates of heaven for ever."
I agreed with him. WIthout God, this would be my life as well and it would be a very dark realisation indeed.
God does not make me happy.
He makes me whole, he restores me, strengthens me and puts a fountain of life in me where there could only have been darkness and despair.
No, God does not merely make me happy. He makes me profoundly Joyful. This Joy sits within me, like a fountain of life, a pool of amazing living water - it underlines everything that makes me happy with even greater clarity; it cushions and overwhelms everything that threatens to put fear and sadness in me.
I am happy, optimistic, tickled plenty of times. I am unhappy, lonely, sad, pessimistic and morose some of the time. But the joy stays deep within, sturdy, unassailable and un-understandable. It goes beyond simple happiness or sadness.
The message had an air of nostalgia. My old friend has always struggled with finding happiness and feeling whole. Sadness about past mistakes and regrets clung onto him like a vice. In his most morose moments, he would ask me if I would turn up for his funeral or write him a eulogy. At on point, he had a semi-serious death wish.
The only thing that kept him moving one foot after another in his life somehow was his almost foolhardy trust in Jesus Christ's love and grace. He depended on it so much for his life to mean something. He clung on to Christ's promises that somehow he mattered. When I stood next to him to sing praise songs, i remembered how much feeling he put into the words and how much yearning for hope was etched in his upraised face and palms.
When you think about it, it's crazy. How can the touchy-feely claims of some ancient Jewish madman actually give confidence to anyone? How on earth does knowing Jesus help anyone through their life?
I don't need much to be happy - I just need a friend, a meaningful conversation, a good dream, some random cute stray animal or beautiful Italian sunshine, pretty colours, and I am blissed out.
But this Happiness is a strange, fickle thing. It runs away sometimes when you want it to stay. No matter how much you cling on to it, it slips eel-like away. Happiness can be found in things of this world to a certain limit. After all, there is much that is given to us on this earth that is good.
Pastor Chris talked today about how children tear through their carefully wrapped gifts gleefully, sometimes recklessly, so fixated on the joys of the gift within, without a care for who the giver is. Who cares whether it is Daddy or Grandma who bought me the latest PS2? But when we grow up, we start to realise the best part about the gift is actually the giver. In our adulthood, we have slowly learnt that sometimes we get presents that we do not really like, or cannot really appreciate for now, or gifts that fall short of our high expectations. But nevertheless you honour the giver because you have recognised that the giver's intentions were always more important than the gift. If we want to find real happiness in the gifts we have been blessed with in our life, we need to lift our heads from our mad scramble to give thanks to the giver - God.
At the tuesday fellowship, somebody read an anti-Psalm 23, to make his point about why he was a christian. He said writing the antithesis of the famous Psalm / Serenity Prayer showed what life without christ was like.
"The Lord is not my shepherd.
I shall always want.
I cannot find those green pastures
I will not find the still waters
My soul is unwhole, unrestored
I wander down paths of unrighteousness
Yea, as I walk through that valley shadowed by Death,
I do fear evil:
for nobody is with me;
Nothing comforts me.
Nobody prepares a table for me in the presence of my enemies:
Nobody blesses my life and the cup of my life is drained empty.
Surely horror and wrath shall follow me all the days of my life
and I will dwell outside the gates of heaven for ever."
I agreed with him. WIthout God, this would be my life as well and it would be a very dark realisation indeed.
God does not make me happy.
He makes me whole, he restores me, strengthens me and puts a fountain of life in me where there could only have been darkness and despair.
No, God does not merely make me happy. He makes me profoundly Joyful. This Joy sits within me, like a fountain of life, a pool of amazing living water - it underlines everything that makes me happy with even greater clarity; it cushions and overwhelms everything that threatens to put fear and sadness in me.
I am happy, optimistic, tickled plenty of times. I am unhappy, lonely, sad, pessimistic and morose some of the time. But the joy stays deep within, sturdy, unassailable and un-understandable. It goes beyond simple happiness or sadness.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Thou Shall Not Commitee
Friday, August 19, 2005
A Tuesday To Remember
Since there was no bible study this week, me and HKGal took the chance to visit the interdenominational group I had met a couple of weeks back at SonicFest. FunkyArchitect had invited me to pop by the first time I had a chance.
This group is really a prime example of an emergent church - it's a motley collection of people of all types from all over the world : A Filipino Jamie Aditya (MTV VJ) lookalike youth pastor and his psychologist sister;
An American independent film-maker turned missionary to the Singaporean American schools; a Polish backpacker who just could not get enough of the group even though he was non-christian!;
Several 'starving' local film-makers, photographers and musicians;
etc.
Multi-cultural, multi-racial, multi-denominational. Quite a interesting take on what the first churches must have looked like.
There must have been close to 30 people there that night. We started at 8pm and ended near 1am. It has been a really really long time since I worshipped, spoke and prayed this way - with a whole room, without any need for restraint, without any fear of people feeling uncomfortable.
That night was "Share Why You Are a Christian Night" and it was such a powerful collection of individual, spontaneous testimonies. As one room - half of which were complete strangers! - we wept and laughed together at the sharing of multiple stories from real life.
Why follow Christ indeed? Some said because He was Love. Some said because He made so much sense. Some said because He did NOT make sense - Grace is a totally ridiculous concept by human standards! Some said because He was just...too amazing to say no to.
Some simply fell in love with Him. Some literally had an Old Testament style miracle deliver them from their disbelief!
It was really encouraging to discover in all their disparate reasons for being a Christian, the common thread that God is a entity who reaches out to us in a myriad of ways, far beyond human understanding and human limitations.
I shared about what the TissueAunty incident taught me. I loved God simply because He is Right, the rightest right I knew. He is the God of Justice, the one who looks out for the weak and oppressed far better than any human ever could.
As I told the story, my words choked and I started to cry. I never realised how much Truth that encounter had cemented in me: I really wanted to see the day when His Kingdom comes and His will is done on earth as it is in Heaven.
I used to be indifferent to those words but now those precious lines of the Lord's Prayer have become my greatest source of inspiration and hope. I never realised how much that particular aspect of the Truth meant to me until I shared it with the group.
I miss charismatic-style gatherings: That intimate gathering of people around you, all praying and praising with such conviction, force and unabashed joy that you could feel a piece of Heaven; The way they unashamedly grip your shoulder or clasp your hand or cradle your head as they prayed for you, conveying a hundred nuances of feeling the way only a human touch can convey;
It has been a long time since I had someone pray an encouragement over me with such conviction even before they knew i was in need or what I needed to be encouraged about. HKGal and I were definitely moved to tears many times at the open love of these perfect strangers.
I was grateful to see how uplifted and more convicted my own prayers for others became in such a setting - where other people's prayer literally put courage into your own praying tongue. Among a crowd like that, hearing prayers like that, you could not help but find a stronger voice for your petitions to God.
When we sang to God that night to close the day, I could not stop the Hallelujahs from spilling out.
This is a truly blessed group. God is doing some amazing things within their ministry.
This group is really a prime example of an emergent church - it's a motley collection of people of all types from all over the world : A Filipino Jamie Aditya (MTV VJ) lookalike youth pastor and his psychologist sister;
An American independent film-maker turned missionary to the Singaporean American schools; a Polish backpacker who just could not get enough of the group even though he was non-christian!;
Several 'starving' local film-makers, photographers and musicians;
etc.
Multi-cultural, multi-racial, multi-denominational. Quite a interesting take on what the first churches must have looked like.
There must have been close to 30 people there that night. We started at 8pm and ended near 1am. It has been a really really long time since I worshipped, spoke and prayed this way - with a whole room, without any need for restraint, without any fear of people feeling uncomfortable.
That night was "Share Why You Are a Christian Night" and it was such a powerful collection of individual, spontaneous testimonies. As one room - half of which were complete strangers! - we wept and laughed together at the sharing of multiple stories from real life.
Why follow Christ indeed? Some said because He was Love. Some said because He made so much sense. Some said because He did NOT make sense - Grace is a totally ridiculous concept by human standards! Some said because He was just...too amazing to say no to.
Some simply fell in love with Him. Some literally had an Old Testament style miracle deliver them from their disbelief!
It was really encouraging to discover in all their disparate reasons for being a Christian, the common thread that God is a entity who reaches out to us in a myriad of ways, far beyond human understanding and human limitations.
I shared about what the TissueAunty incident taught me. I loved God simply because He is Right, the rightest right I knew. He is the God of Justice, the one who looks out for the weak and oppressed far better than any human ever could.
As I told the story, my words choked and I started to cry. I never realised how much Truth that encounter had cemented in me: I really wanted to see the day when His Kingdom comes and His will is done on earth as it is in Heaven.
I used to be indifferent to those words but now those precious lines of the Lord's Prayer have become my greatest source of inspiration and hope. I never realised how much that particular aspect of the Truth meant to me until I shared it with the group.
I miss charismatic-style gatherings: That intimate gathering of people around you, all praying and praising with such conviction, force and unabashed joy that you could feel a piece of Heaven; The way they unashamedly grip your shoulder or clasp your hand or cradle your head as they prayed for you, conveying a hundred nuances of feeling the way only a human touch can convey;
It has been a long time since I had someone pray an encouragement over me with such conviction even before they knew i was in need or what I needed to be encouraged about. HKGal and I were definitely moved to tears many times at the open love of these perfect strangers.
I was grateful to see how uplifted and more convicted my own prayers for others became in such a setting - where other people's prayer literally put courage into your own praying tongue. Among a crowd like that, hearing prayers like that, you could not help but find a stronger voice for your petitions to God.
When we sang to God that night to close the day, I could not stop the Hallelujahs from spilling out.
This is a truly blessed group. God is doing some amazing things within their ministry.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Vanity Thy Name is Blogger
Blogging has become a Singaporean phenomenon not unlike bubble tea, pork floss buns and portuguese egg-tarts.
Bubble tea was fun, novel and tasty when it first arrived. People who discovered it first felt proud to have found a delicious new treat. But a good secret cannot stay secret for long - Word spread, popularity caught on and whoosh before you know it, bubble tea everywhere! Happy Cup! Yummy Cup! Bubble Cup! Etc. Cup!
The inevitable problem was 2 pronged :
One, in a bid to jump on the bandwagon, many vain people started selling crap-tasting, cheap rip off bubble tea, which put off lots of people who were curious late-comers into the phenomenon.
Two: many people who were always put off by the idea of bubble tea got even more peeved because the disgusting stuff was actually getting such attention. Adding fuel to the fire was that landmark report about ho bad bubble tea was for ya...those teeny black starch balls apparently were hyper calorific! Disgruntlement and diatribes ensued. The backlash of bubble tea hit - and tons of bubble tea shops found themselves closing. People moved on to Roti Boy. But the truly yummy bubble tea shops remained, as did those who always loved it for what it was, and genuine bubble tea lived on forever, quietly ever after.
ok my starting point, is that....that's what I think about blogging.
The medium is not the message: There are vain bloggers, wannabe bloggers, prejudiced bloggers etc. but there are genuine ones, honest ones, and entertaining ones. Intrinsically, blogs like paint, pixels, poems, songs are just repositories of people's personalities. One cannot judge the medium by the message. They are separate.
But is blogging a vain thing?
why of course, yes, it is!
But so is one's entire existence, every action, every word, every breath we breathe is vanity, vanity, vanity. Blogging, acting, singing, making music, writing poetry, having intelligent conversation, playing games, playing sports etc. etc. - all are mediums for Vanity to rear its nasty head.
Pride haunts everything we do because of our earthly, ungodly predisposition towards sin. So what are we to do?
Recognise we are intrinsically vain, pray for humility
Never let your guard down. Always be prepared to edit what you said.
Always be prepared to admit a wrong. Be responsible.
Know that with blogging, you intrinsically give up privacy and like it or not, you gotta balance the need for self-expression together with the need to edify and encourage.
As Mad Eye Moody would roar," CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!!!!"
My cybername is neonangel. I am a blogger. I am vain.
I like an audience. I like being patted on the back. I like seeing comments on my pages. I try to curb it but vanity taints my every post - sometimes 5% vanity, sometimes 90% vanity, but aiyah, always got vanity one lah no matter what! When will my blogs not be vain? Wellllll, if God decides to be funny and sets up blogging points in heaven, then yeah, maybe Post-2ND COMING then....no more vanity in my blogs.
meanwhile, just as I love bubble tea still...so do I love blogging. It has brought me new friends, new insights, and new openness with old friends who open up in the blogging medium in ways that they never did in the normal talking-in-real-life medium.
It's a cool medium, but one fraught with many responsibilities to consider.
Blogs are not private things. They are by nature public, exposed and tied to an outside world that calls for an answer to what you say and what you do.
But then again, so is the entire Christian life. :)
PS: Red Milk Bubble Tea kicks so much ass on a hot day. Peach Yogurt Sunrise Bubble Shake also macham shiok.
My fave bubble tea takeaway is the one just outside Orchard Emerald. $1.90 goodness plus free tissue. whoo.
Bubble tea was fun, novel and tasty when it first arrived. People who discovered it first felt proud to have found a delicious new treat. But a good secret cannot stay secret for long - Word spread, popularity caught on and whoosh before you know it, bubble tea everywhere! Happy Cup! Yummy Cup! Bubble Cup! Etc. Cup!
The inevitable problem was 2 pronged :
One, in a bid to jump on the bandwagon, many vain people started selling crap-tasting, cheap rip off bubble tea, which put off lots of people who were curious late-comers into the phenomenon.
Two: many people who were always put off by the idea of bubble tea got even more peeved because the disgusting stuff was actually getting such attention. Adding fuel to the fire was that landmark report about ho bad bubble tea was for ya...those teeny black starch balls apparently were hyper calorific! Disgruntlement and diatribes ensued. The backlash of bubble tea hit - and tons of bubble tea shops found themselves closing. People moved on to Roti Boy. But the truly yummy bubble tea shops remained, as did those who always loved it for what it was, and genuine bubble tea lived on forever, quietly ever after.
ok my starting point, is that....that's what I think about blogging.
The medium is not the message: There are vain bloggers, wannabe bloggers, prejudiced bloggers etc. but there are genuine ones, honest ones, and entertaining ones. Intrinsically, blogs like paint, pixels, poems, songs are just repositories of people's personalities. One cannot judge the medium by the message. They are separate.
But is blogging a vain thing?
why of course, yes, it is!
But so is one's entire existence, every action, every word, every breath we breathe is vanity, vanity, vanity. Blogging, acting, singing, making music, writing poetry, having intelligent conversation, playing games, playing sports etc. etc. - all are mediums for Vanity to rear its nasty head.
Pride haunts everything we do because of our earthly, ungodly predisposition towards sin. So what are we to do?
Recognise we are intrinsically vain, pray for humility
Never let your guard down. Always be prepared to edit what you said.
Always be prepared to admit a wrong. Be responsible.
Know that with blogging, you intrinsically give up privacy and like it or not, you gotta balance the need for self-expression together with the need to edify and encourage.
As Mad Eye Moody would roar," CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!!!!"
My cybername is neonangel. I am a blogger. I am vain.
I like an audience. I like being patted on the back. I like seeing comments on my pages. I try to curb it but vanity taints my every post - sometimes 5% vanity, sometimes 90% vanity, but aiyah, always got vanity one lah no matter what! When will my blogs not be vain? Wellllll, if God decides to be funny and sets up blogging points in heaven, then yeah, maybe Post-2ND COMING then....no more vanity in my blogs.
meanwhile, just as I love bubble tea still...so do I love blogging. It has brought me new friends, new insights, and new openness with old friends who open up in the blogging medium in ways that they never did in the normal talking-in-real-life medium.
It's a cool medium, but one fraught with many responsibilities to consider.
Blogs are not private things. They are by nature public, exposed and tied to an outside world that calls for an answer to what you say and what you do.
But then again, so is the entire Christian life. :)
PS: Red Milk Bubble Tea kicks so much ass on a hot day. Peach Yogurt Sunrise Bubble Shake also macham shiok.
My fave bubble tea takeaway is the one just outside Orchard Emerald. $1.90 goodness plus free tissue. whoo.
Return of the Queen
welcome back alto!!!!!!!!
gal you have been missed - short as the time was. haha.
supper this week or what. retro pic of me and the Notorious T.F.G (Tolkein FanGal) to commemorate nice day.
Plus MrsBear is in labour!!!! whoowhoo! :)
Breathe, Bear, breathe!
gal you have been missed - short as the time was. haha.
supper this week or what. retro pic of me and the Notorious T.F.G (Tolkein FanGal) to commemorate nice day.
Plus MrsBear is in labour!!!! whoowhoo! :)
Breathe, Bear, breathe!
Sunday, August 14, 2005
happy belated birthday singapura part 2
21 people gather at DaMooMan's turf.
interDG hijinks ensue. :)
tons of fun.
interDG hijinks ensue. :)
tons of fun.
Friday, August 12, 2005
happy belated 40th birthday singapura
forgot to blog a patriotic national day birthday wish. it's a early sketch of the Misadventures of Lil Red Dot.
LOOOVE ya Singapore for being the one land where I can order a kick ass teh si -siu dai bing-da bao. $7 low fat, hold the cream, to go Frappacinos be darned!!
LOOOVE ya Singapore for being the one land where I can order a kick ass teh si -siu dai bing-da bao. $7 low fat, hold the cream, to go Frappacinos be darned!!
La Bimbo
Love this funky avatar maker! The guy version of it is just as funky.
Over-glamourised icons but ah well, what to do lah. Such cute outfits they had, I swear it was as good as shopping in a store. I am so loving the bunny and kitty in the icon. cute until can die ah.
In reality, am definitely more like the big mouth chor lor icon 2 posts below. Am a true blue St Nicholas convent girl okay don't play play.
This one macham too polished and perfect lah - like SCGS girl like that.
But it's hard to resist such pixel prettiness. Prettiest avatar maker I have seen so far. Heehee
Over-glamourised icons but ah well, what to do lah. Such cute outfits they had, I swear it was as good as shopping in a store. I am so loving the bunny and kitty in the icon. cute until can die ah.
In reality, am definitely more like the big mouth chor lor icon 2 posts below. Am a true blue St Nicholas convent girl okay don't play play.
This one macham too polished and perfect lah - like SCGS girl like that.
But it's hard to resist such pixel prettiness. Prettiest avatar maker I have seen so far. Heehee
Hypothetical letters from christian singletons :P
There's an interesting post from Kaif. He wrote a hypothetical letter to Christian Girls on behalf of Christian Guys that he knows. Interesting stuff as you can tell from the quote :"....I don't know where to begin. While your Godliness attracts me, sometimes it scares me. I always hesitate when i ask myself "Can I match up to your Godliness?" or "Am I Godly enough for you?" The reason why churches are so filled with girls is because girls generally take God more seriously than us guys"
Do the guys really think that way?
Well, to add to
V's nicely worded hypothetical reply :) , here's my irreverent take :
"Heya Christian Guy,
I know you are a regular Joe Sinner. Guess what? It takes one to know one. I am not a shining paragon of goodness either.
It's no secret that you struggle to like women for more than their looks. Actually, Thank you for the encouragement that you are persevering to change that aspect of you. You don't know how much it means to us girls. Really. What we witness in a image-mad society can be really discouraging to us girls so knowing that there are some guys who are trying to change that is pretty good to hear.
As for your being intimidated by our zealousness or commitment to ministry, don't be. The Christian life has never been about godly doing but godly being. It does not matter to God if someone is serving in 4 zillion ministries while the other has yet to decide which ministry to get into. The important thing is whether both have their hearts sincerely set on changing their lives to do godly work. There is no superduper checklist to fulfill except one - do you believe there is a God who can change you? do you believe there is a Christ who can save you from your long struggle against yourself?
If God is doing His good work in you, one day you will be leading and serving God as you imagined you ought to be. Trust Him. Don't worry about "losing out to the girl" in minstries....it's not important. He will help you be that Godly Man you wish you could be.
Also, your fear to ask a girl out is understandably real. But that sneaky little Bible declares "Perfect Love drives out fear". If you understand how eternal God's love is, and you trust this love will brace you against anything life throws at you, then what's going out on a limb to ask a girl out in the larger scheme of Things To Fear In Life? :)
Seriously, remember that same Love of God has saved the girl as well - if she truly is as godly as you think she is, she will not be scared of dealing with any changes to come in the friendship you share as well. Even if rejection ensues from your decision to ask her out, God's love will protect you both from irreparable harm. Truly.
Just one last offside remark - many of the girls are MORE than happy to be asked out. So, if you have already ensured you are asking the girl out for the right reasons, what are you waiting for?
The ball is very much in your court. It has been for a very long time.
Go for it, man. We are all rooting for ya.
And if you need help from any of the gals to help out with your prospects (prayer, godly advice, date etiquette and fashion tips hehheh ), we are all a call away i am sure. :)
In faith,
The SIngle Christian Girl Collective"
Hehheh. That was fun. MGSR-y (TM The Moth) but fun.
Do the guys really think that way?
Well, to add to
V's nicely worded hypothetical reply :) , here's my irreverent take :
"Heya Christian Guy,
I know you are a regular Joe Sinner. Guess what? It takes one to know one. I am not a shining paragon of goodness either.
It's no secret that you struggle to like women for more than their looks. Actually, Thank you for the encouragement that you are persevering to change that aspect of you. You don't know how much it means to us girls. Really. What we witness in a image-mad society can be really discouraging to us girls so knowing that there are some guys who are trying to change that is pretty good to hear.
As for your being intimidated by our zealousness or commitment to ministry, don't be. The Christian life has never been about godly doing but godly being. It does not matter to God if someone is serving in 4 zillion ministries while the other has yet to decide which ministry to get into. The important thing is whether both have their hearts sincerely set on changing their lives to do godly work. There is no superduper checklist to fulfill except one - do you believe there is a God who can change you? do you believe there is a Christ who can save you from your long struggle against yourself?
If God is doing His good work in you, one day you will be leading and serving God as you imagined you ought to be. Trust Him. Don't worry about "losing out to the girl" in minstries....it's not important. He will help you be that Godly Man you wish you could be.
Also, your fear to ask a girl out is understandably real. But that sneaky little Bible declares "Perfect Love drives out fear". If you understand how eternal God's love is, and you trust this love will brace you against anything life throws at you, then what's going out on a limb to ask a girl out in the larger scheme of Things To Fear In Life? :)
Seriously, remember that same Love of God has saved the girl as well - if she truly is as godly as you think she is, she will not be scared of dealing with any changes to come in the friendship you share as well. Even if rejection ensues from your decision to ask her out, God's love will protect you both from irreparable harm. Truly.
Just one last offside remark - many of the girls are MORE than happy to be asked out. So, if you have already ensured you are asking the girl out for the right reasons, what are you waiting for?
The ball is very much in your court. It has been for a very long time.
Go for it, man. We are all rooting for ya.
And if you need help from any of the gals to help out with your prospects (prayer, godly advice, date etiquette and fashion tips hehheh ), we are all a call away i am sure. :)
In faith,
The SIngle Christian Girl Collective"
Hehheh. That was fun. MGSR-y (TM The Moth) but fun.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
TissueAunty and StutteringUncle
made 2 new avatars! here is the unglam, chor lor one and then there is the glam glam one for later. meanwhile...posting the big mouth one because...it's a nice day! :)
++++
met TissueAunty again after work and I told her how our DG prayed for her on National Day. :) She was really delighted! She laughed and said, "No wonder today get up so happy!"
She started sharing with me about how God was looking out for her - apparently some other person walked past her at the crossing and offered her a place to stay for $250 (compared to her present place at $700). The problem was that she was short of $50 to make up the first month's rent.
Now, the moment she named the $50 I knew this was totally God being funny, 'Cos on National Day, Island and me were talking about how to get TissueAunty a better job.
Charity, after all, has a limited effect. - everyone at the end of the day wants dignity and a sense of ownership and pride about their life. We could not just keep visiting ad hoc and bringing her freebie dinners. It would affect anyone's esteem at the end of the day to just receive and receive without being allowed to give back.
One option we examined was getting her to come clean my school once a week for market rate of $5 per hour....so we calculate calculate, came up to $50 a month.
So hearing the magical coincidental number 50, I told Aunty she did not need to be pai seh about borrowing money, she could earn it instead by helping me clean the school since I rarely had the time to do so myself.
After our first meeting, I tried calculating various scenarios of how much she makes an hour selling tissue. $1 or $2 per hour? The gap in earning power really literally chills my snotty middle class mind. Like Island mentioned in her blog, the thought that it took her 11 years to pay back a $3000 debt just floors your imagination. It brings tears to your eyes that what could have taken you a month to earn, took 11 years for another to rake up. Let's not even talk about the bigwigs who earn $3000 just drawing a single breath. gah.
ANYHOW, THAT WAS NOT THE COOL PART.
Cool part is after I talked to her, I crossed the road to take a 12 and was promptly stopped by a strange man. Now I have many many stories of meeting strange men on streets with bizarro stories, so I was a little wary of this one.
He was in his 30s, and spoke as if he had a speech defect. Every word that tumbled out sounded like it was crafted with supreme effort. He stuttered quite badly and it came out as heavily accented English smattered with Chinese. Despite all that, there was no mistaking what he was saying.
"Sister, who do you believe in? Are you Christian?"
"Yes I believe in God. Why?"
"You go church?"
"Yes I go ARPC."
"Good. good. I see you talk to the auntie. I always stand here. John 3:16. God tell me to talk to non-christian. Tell everybody about John 3:16. Tell people about God"
"That's great, uncle. The aunty there also Christian."
"Ah good! good. Then I talk to someone else. God bless you sister."
"God bless you too, uncle"
He continued standing at the crossing, contented. I was glad. Glad that he had found the one God who would not judge him for his awkwardness, his stammering strangeness. Glad that he found the God who could see something in him that nobody else in our perfectionist society could...a God who chose this guy of all people to share the gospel.
That man - like TissueAunty - had conviction, heart and a gutsiness that went beyond intellectual BIble smarts. That is sure sign of the Spirit of God working its way in the faithful believers.
Sometimes when I look at people like them, I understand another dimension to "Blessed Are the Poor, for theirs is the Kingdom of God"
Compared to the rest of us, these poor people whom we pity....they are the ones who see the hope of God with the greatest clarity. They understand with every fibre the need for His Kingdom to come and HIs will to be done.
We have so much to learn from the boldness and endurance of the poor in the face of suffering!
P.S. Anyone who can offer Aunty a part-time cleaning job, let me know ya?
P.S.S. Aunty is coming with me to church this Sunday! Wah Piang eh. Whoohoo!
P.S.S.S. Doing this ministry to Aunty thingamajig is actually making me a lot more open-minded and warmer-hearted about ministering to my own mother. I think God is being his usual sneaky self here. More on this another time...
++++
met TissueAunty again after work and I told her how our DG prayed for her on National Day. :) She was really delighted! She laughed and said, "No wonder today get up so happy!"
She started sharing with me about how God was looking out for her - apparently some other person walked past her at the crossing and offered her a place to stay for $250 (compared to her present place at $700). The problem was that she was short of $50 to make up the first month's rent.
Now, the moment she named the $50 I knew this was totally God being funny, 'Cos on National Day, Island and me were talking about how to get TissueAunty a better job.
Charity, after all, has a limited effect. - everyone at the end of the day wants dignity and a sense of ownership and pride about their life. We could not just keep visiting ad hoc and bringing her freebie dinners. It would affect anyone's esteem at the end of the day to just receive and receive without being allowed to give back.
One option we examined was getting her to come clean my school once a week for market rate of $5 per hour....so we calculate calculate, came up to $50 a month.
So hearing the magical coincidental number 50, I told Aunty she did not need to be pai seh about borrowing money, she could earn it instead by helping me clean the school since I rarely had the time to do so myself.
After our first meeting, I tried calculating various scenarios of how much she makes an hour selling tissue. $1 or $2 per hour? The gap in earning power really literally chills my snotty middle class mind. Like Island mentioned in her blog, the thought that it took her 11 years to pay back a $3000 debt just floors your imagination. It brings tears to your eyes that what could have taken you a month to earn, took 11 years for another to rake up. Let's not even talk about the bigwigs who earn $3000 just drawing a single breath. gah.
ANYHOW, THAT WAS NOT THE COOL PART.
Cool part is after I talked to her, I crossed the road to take a 12 and was promptly stopped by a strange man. Now I have many many stories of meeting strange men on streets with bizarro stories, so I was a little wary of this one.
He was in his 30s, and spoke as if he had a speech defect. Every word that tumbled out sounded like it was crafted with supreme effort. He stuttered quite badly and it came out as heavily accented English smattered with Chinese. Despite all that, there was no mistaking what he was saying.
"Sister, who do you believe in? Are you Christian?"
"Yes I believe in God. Why?"
"You go church?"
"Yes I go ARPC."
"Good. good. I see you talk to the auntie. I always stand here. John 3:16. God tell me to talk to non-christian. Tell everybody about John 3:16. Tell people about God"
"That's great, uncle. The aunty there also Christian."
"Ah good! good. Then I talk to someone else. God bless you sister."
"God bless you too, uncle"
He continued standing at the crossing, contented. I was glad. Glad that he had found the one God who would not judge him for his awkwardness, his stammering strangeness. Glad that he found the God who could see something in him that nobody else in our perfectionist society could...a God who chose this guy of all people to share the gospel.
That man - like TissueAunty - had conviction, heart and a gutsiness that went beyond intellectual BIble smarts. That is sure sign of the Spirit of God working its way in the faithful believers.
Sometimes when I look at people like them, I understand another dimension to "Blessed Are the Poor, for theirs is the Kingdom of God"
Compared to the rest of us, these poor people whom we pity....they are the ones who see the hope of God with the greatest clarity. They understand with every fibre the need for His Kingdom to come and HIs will to be done.
We have so much to learn from the boldness and endurance of the poor in the face of suffering!
P.S. Anyone who can offer Aunty a part-time cleaning job, let me know ya?
P.S.S. Aunty is coming with me to church this Sunday! Wah Piang eh. Whoohoo!
P.S.S.S. Doing this ministry to Aunty thingamajig is actually making me a lot more open-minded and warmer-hearted about ministering to my own mother. I think God is being his usual sneaky self here. More on this another time...
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
happy again
things to make you feel better after a moody funk:
1: watching young christians pray fervently and rejoice enthusiastically at Fest of Praise.
2: Thanks Rust for just listening without prejudice :)
3: watching johnny depp ham it up in charlie and the chocolate factory with HKGirl.
such a fun show :)
4: a really sweet prayer/encouragement email from AgentOrange, all the way through the tapped
wires of Beijing.
5: national day frolics - ultimate frisbee, captain's ball and a really good dinner
Ever since meeting Tissueaunty, I have been thinking about the homeless people who kinda stay around my office area. I wonder what stories lie behind their over-browned weather beaten skins. I realise that if you smile at them, they drop their mask of suspicion and quite readily smile back.
Been reading Good News For the Poor by Tim Chester also. Stirring stuff that helped shift my focus away from memyselfandi back to God's plans. The wisely written book puts together a very strong case for Gospel-centred Christian social action - which is a cheem way of saying why anyone who calls Jesus Lord ought to start actively looking out for the lepers, poor, sick, downtrodden and heartbroken all around. No hiding behind excuses like 'Faith is a private thing', 'the poor we will always have with us so why bother' etc. escapist nonsense.
Was surprised and saddened to find out in the book that at the time of Rwanda's horrific genocide, Rwanda was considered the most Christian African nation, the one with the "most successful evangelising movement". Tim Chester's point was that many of Rwanda's converts were not clear on the impact of the gospel on their lives. They felt the private faith and the private salvation but did not make the connection to public action or public demonstration of their beliefs. Hence, one too many Rwandan Christians stood by as Hutus slaughtered Tutsis and Tutsis avenged themselves on Hutus. Not unlike how one too many German Christians stood by in silence as Nazis first discriminated and later slaughtered Jews by the millions.
There were many good Rwandan Christians and German Christians of course who took political action but unsurprisingly, the world chooses to remember those who stood by, blinded by their arrogance and pride in their own saftey. How could people who read about the good Samaritan ever doubt the call to action? Jesus was the Christ who kneeled to wash the feet of his disciples, supped with the marginalised and fed the poor.
Chester cited a beautiful quote from GK Chesterton about the worth of every human being.
Chesterton declared that human beings were not equal like the way human rights activists imagined.
Human beings are equal the way pennies were equal. Some were bright, some dull, some used, some fresh, some scarred. But irregardless of their individual state, their worth came from the fact that every one of them bore the stamp of a King, a sovereign who vould vouch for their value.
We all, like coins, bear the stamp of a King to end all Kings.
The begger in the alley way, the aunty who sells tissue packs to pay the rent, the friend you treasure, the mother you quarrel with, the waiter who wipes your table, the fellow church member you sit beside...the faded imprint of His Majesty is there. In some, the imprint is far more discernible than others.
So What are you going to do about it once you see the mark of God on someone?
And can others see the indentation of Christ on your face when they look at you? Or does your face resemble every other person's look of indifference?
1: watching young christians pray fervently and rejoice enthusiastically at Fest of Praise.
2: Thanks Rust for just listening without prejudice :)
3: watching johnny depp ham it up in charlie and the chocolate factory with HKGirl.
such a fun show :)
4: a really sweet prayer/encouragement email from AgentOrange, all the way through the tapped
wires of Beijing.
5: national day frolics - ultimate frisbee, captain's ball and a really good dinner
Ever since meeting Tissueaunty, I have been thinking about the homeless people who kinda stay around my office area. I wonder what stories lie behind their over-browned weather beaten skins. I realise that if you smile at them, they drop their mask of suspicion and quite readily smile back.
Been reading Good News For the Poor by Tim Chester also. Stirring stuff that helped shift my focus away from memyselfandi back to God's plans. The wisely written book puts together a very strong case for Gospel-centred Christian social action - which is a cheem way of saying why anyone who calls Jesus Lord ought to start actively looking out for the lepers, poor, sick, downtrodden and heartbroken all around. No hiding behind excuses like 'Faith is a private thing', 'the poor we will always have with us so why bother' etc. escapist nonsense.
Was surprised and saddened to find out in the book that at the time of Rwanda's horrific genocide, Rwanda was considered the most Christian African nation, the one with the "most successful evangelising movement". Tim Chester's point was that many of Rwanda's converts were not clear on the impact of the gospel on their lives. They felt the private faith and the private salvation but did not make the connection to public action or public demonstration of their beliefs. Hence, one too many Rwandan Christians stood by as Hutus slaughtered Tutsis and Tutsis avenged themselves on Hutus. Not unlike how one too many German Christians stood by in silence as Nazis first discriminated and later slaughtered Jews by the millions.
There were many good Rwandan Christians and German Christians of course who took political action but unsurprisingly, the world chooses to remember those who stood by, blinded by their arrogance and pride in their own saftey. How could people who read about the good Samaritan ever doubt the call to action? Jesus was the Christ who kneeled to wash the feet of his disciples, supped with the marginalised and fed the poor.
Chester cited a beautiful quote from GK Chesterton about the worth of every human being.
Chesterton declared that human beings were not equal like the way human rights activists imagined.
Human beings are equal the way pennies were equal. Some were bright, some dull, some used, some fresh, some scarred. But irregardless of their individual state, their worth came from the fact that every one of them bore the stamp of a King, a sovereign who vould vouch for their value.
We all, like coins, bear the stamp of a King to end all Kings.
The begger in the alley way, the aunty who sells tissue packs to pay the rent, the friend you treasure, the mother you quarrel with, the waiter who wipes your table, the fellow church member you sit beside...the faded imprint of His Majesty is there. In some, the imprint is far more discernible than others.
So What are you going to do about it once you see the mark of God on someone?
And can others see the indentation of Christ on your face when they look at you? Or does your face resemble every other person's look of indifference?
Monday, August 08, 2005
a little fall of rain
Woke up feeling a little sad today.
Need prayer. Cute rabbit will have to do for now to jumpstart a grey morning before I go to find peace in God, before busy-ness muffles all this.
Old fears and old lies take a long time to go away.
Like any addiction - drugs or alcohol etc, once the devil's untruths have had their ugly way with you they stay with you for life. Charismatics call these spiritual strongholds.
Christ's truth and His perfect love do indeed drive out fears. So while your old addictions don't have the same fierce grip on your heart and mind and strength, they still remain your Achilles heel.
Something to always watch over. Something to always be vigilant over. Something you know is not insurmountable but nevertheless tiring to keep fighting.
"You again? My favourite mistake? Haven't you had enough yet. Be gone."
You just get better at saying no to indulging in your poison of choice.
Mine happens to be pretty dumb but then again, I suppose there is no such thing as a wise addiction is there.
Your hope is that in the Second Coming, when a fallen world is swept away with a divine force and fury, your battle finally stops. and you get rest.
meanwhile, i am a little tired. and i hate waking up with sticky salty eyes that drive my contacts mad.
and sometimes, i do hate being changed by God enough to understand the folly and uselessness of whining and complaining.
You no longer have the luxury of ignorance. You recognise it is a luxury that you should never have anyway. Those who know better, have to stay better, do better, have to lead and not lag.
There is no retreating to the shallow comfort of whining when there is so much real needs out there. Your whining only makes things worse and discourages those in need.
You do not bitch to God. You do not shake fists at Him. You do not weary the Lord like they did in Malachi with indulgent hypocrisy. Once you understand what He has done for you, you don't ever be an ass about it. You know you have to be like Job, not Job's wife who invited him to curse God in his pain.
You stay strong, even in the midst of your sharing of your own struggles, you constantly check your words and watch your tone - because even in your sorrow, you will worship God and help others see why we must.
i wish i was not so weak. i think my fears are stupid, indulgent and worthless. But they are real. And its humiliating to know even stupid fears can have such a talon-like grip. i hate being reminded of my weakness.
But there you go. Once I think that, the Christian paradox kicks in - if i have never been so weak i would have never embraced how strong my Saviour is. I would have never understood His might and grace.
To quote Tissue Aunty, "Know Jesus, heart not pain already. Learn to smile." Life goes on, things may still hurt, fears may still poke up uninvited, but most of the time, life in God is amazing, joyful and peaceful.
His peace is the bedrock in your heart that no pain or fear can ever hope to pierce through and take root ever again.
what's my addiction? It's senseless.
It does not matter. It will take too long to get into and will distract from the main point I am trying to find while writing this blog entry.
What's important is that it too shall pass with a fallen world. I stake my life on that.
So a hope and a prayer will always be in my heart. And it's just a matter of waiting for the Day when all things are going to made right.
Robert Frost once wrote
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
"
I have loved those lines for a very long time.
Rest will come.
In a little while....just a little while.
Need prayer. Cute rabbit will have to do for now to jumpstart a grey morning before I go to find peace in God, before busy-ness muffles all this.
Old fears and old lies take a long time to go away.
Like any addiction - drugs or alcohol etc, once the devil's untruths have had their ugly way with you they stay with you for life. Charismatics call these spiritual strongholds.
Christ's truth and His perfect love do indeed drive out fears. So while your old addictions don't have the same fierce grip on your heart and mind and strength, they still remain your Achilles heel.
Something to always watch over. Something to always be vigilant over. Something you know is not insurmountable but nevertheless tiring to keep fighting.
"You again? My favourite mistake? Haven't you had enough yet. Be gone."
You just get better at saying no to indulging in your poison of choice.
Mine happens to be pretty dumb but then again, I suppose there is no such thing as a wise addiction is there.
Your hope is that in the Second Coming, when a fallen world is swept away with a divine force and fury, your battle finally stops. and you get rest.
meanwhile, i am a little tired. and i hate waking up with sticky salty eyes that drive my contacts mad.
and sometimes, i do hate being changed by God enough to understand the folly and uselessness of whining and complaining.
You no longer have the luxury of ignorance. You recognise it is a luxury that you should never have anyway. Those who know better, have to stay better, do better, have to lead and not lag.
There is no retreating to the shallow comfort of whining when there is so much real needs out there. Your whining only makes things worse and discourages those in need.
You do not bitch to God. You do not shake fists at Him. You do not weary the Lord like they did in Malachi with indulgent hypocrisy. Once you understand what He has done for you, you don't ever be an ass about it. You know you have to be like Job, not Job's wife who invited him to curse God in his pain.
You stay strong, even in the midst of your sharing of your own struggles, you constantly check your words and watch your tone - because even in your sorrow, you will worship God and help others see why we must.
i wish i was not so weak. i think my fears are stupid, indulgent and worthless. But they are real. And its humiliating to know even stupid fears can have such a talon-like grip. i hate being reminded of my weakness.
But there you go. Once I think that, the Christian paradox kicks in - if i have never been so weak i would have never embraced how strong my Saviour is. I would have never understood His might and grace.
To quote Tissue Aunty, "Know Jesus, heart not pain already. Learn to smile." Life goes on, things may still hurt, fears may still poke up uninvited, but most of the time, life in God is amazing, joyful and peaceful.
His peace is the bedrock in your heart that no pain or fear can ever hope to pierce through and take root ever again.
what's my addiction? It's senseless.
It does not matter. It will take too long to get into and will distract from the main point I am trying to find while writing this blog entry.
What's important is that it too shall pass with a fallen world. I stake my life on that.
So a hope and a prayer will always be in my heart. And it's just a matter of waiting for the Day when all things are going to made right.
Robert Frost once wrote
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
"
I have loved those lines for a very long time.
Rest will come.
In a little while....just a little while.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
a life between crossings
So, today started on a bit of a downer - got into a minor raise-voice-to-make-a-point kind of tift in the morning and felt subsequently angsty. (Re: Oolong rabbit endorsed blog below). I felt pretty crummy and weepy for about an hour - before combined prayers of friends I SMSed started doing their mighty work. Felt strengthened and chastened enough to be humble and made up with XXXXXXXX over lunch.
I have never seen her say grace before over a meal. I have never seen her say grace before - period. So that kind of told me that she must have felt bad too about the tift. That was a very assuring sign to me that whatever angst was going to come up between us again could be continuously dealt with as long as we both had God in our lives and the Holy Spirit working to change hearts of stone to hearts of flesh.
I thought that was it for God's little lessons of the day
BUT that was not even the best or most touching part of the day.
My God is the original smarty pants - he always knows how to hammer down a point. He got Game - tricksy He is, my Saviour Lord.
Morning emotional angst had really exhausted me and by the time I finished teaching at 930pm today I was pretty tired. After horsing around with a stray cat, I crossed from Bugis Junction to Bugis Village to take a bus home.
To get to Bugis Village from Bugis Junction, you have to cross one traffic light, wait at an island in the middle of the road and cross a second traffic light. Often at this island this time of night, I would see a little old woman just sitting there, selling tissue paper from a raggedy pink plastic bag.
She is a pitiful sight - The island is full of endless human traffic but nobody ever stops to patronise her. a) It's a narrow island. you feel pressured by the anxiety of the other people. If you stop, you may hold up the flow of people b)people are usually moving too fast and are too anxious to catch the bus on the other side c) when she sits, scrawny little thing that she is, visually she is literally out of people's sight. It's subsequently very easy to not make eye contact. She easily becomes part of the urban scape, the wallpaper of the city.
Funny how that island works as a microcosm of our busy, busy selfish lives on the bigger island of Singapore eh?
Though I have seen her many times, I have never stopped to talk to her or buy tissue from her. I have always felt a little bit guilty about it. Worse, I knew I ought to have felt a whole lot more guilty. Feeling moved from my morning defensiveness about how I use my money for charity, I felt charged to break the habit of just walking past her. If I claimed I was using my money wisely as God intended, I damn well better live up to my claims one hundred percent, anyone, any time, anywhere, any context.
Fishing out $2, I asked her in broken Chinese, "Aunty, your tissue how much?" She handed over 5 packs with a small smile. Feeling convicted to go futher than just buying tissue, I continued asking her about whether she had eaten and how she was feeling. I could barely hear her response because of my bad command of Chinese and because of the never ending flow of people and roaring traffic all around us.
I could grasp bits and pieces:
-she had been poor and struggling since 12
-she only ate once a day.
-she stayed in Woodlands and was looking desperately for a cheaper place to stay.
-she owed $3000 in rent;
-she had a son who had been kidnapped when younger and subsequently, he was so psychologically affected that he could not find a stable job
-she worked as a cleaner in the morning and sold tissue here at night
-she felt Singaporeans were very evil-hearted for constantly calling the cops on her to report her for selling tissue paper illegally.
The conversation went on for a while. Feeling tired from stooping, I sat next to her like a fellow vagabond. Thank goodness for pants.
I managed to garble out, "Aunty, you very amazing. Your life is so difficult but sometimes when you speak, I see you still can smile. You very strong ah Aunty!"
That's when she hit me with the clincher, "That's only because I found God." Turns out her poor, permanently unemployable son, also has found God.
Thrilled, I immediately cried, "Aunty! Wah! You know Jesus ah? I am so happy for you!" She broke out in a big grin, "Of course! Before that ah, Aunty everyday cry and cry. Heart very pain. Know Jesus already, Know how to laugh!" She suddenly batted my arm with a buddy-like affection, "You ah.....I also wanted to ask you if you know Jesus!" We giggled at our mutual Christian nerdiness.
It was the most unnatural of pairings, a oddball fellowship - a tiny piece of heaven.
Bizarrely, as the conversation carried on, it almost seemed like we were not sitting on a dirty concrete island between traffic. The way we were laughing and bantering (even with my horrible 'tehhh' bimbo Chinese), it seemed like we were hanging out like a couple of Bugis Junction ah-lians. She kept punctuating her points with playful little punches to my arm.
I bought her a drink and some groceries from 7-11 since no food stalls were open. Apologising for the lack of proper food available, I asked her if she wanted anything else. She kept saying, 'AIyah you spent so much money already. Aunty Pai seh."
It came up to $12 - hardly a fortune to me but it must have been princely to someone who only ate once a day and could not even buy water for herself. So I bumbled," But Jesus help me earn money to buy you food what. Must one. Must one. Aunty don't need to pai seh lah! We all then pai seh, never help you." She laughed and asked me to help her find a Chinese-English Bible for her to read.
Scribbling my name and phone number, I told her I would definitely bring her one together with food more healthy than 7-11 crap. I told her to visit ARPC's mandarin ministry if she could. She seemed rather happy about it and asked me what time I went for service. Hugging her, I told her Jesus loved her very much before running for my bus.
I wish I could have prayed with her but my lousy Chinese might have ended the night in heresy. :) So instead on the bus home, I prayed for her and thought:
Thank you, God. Thank. YOU.
Thank you for being the God who looks after lives that fall between the cracks. You have your ways of finding and saving even the most lost and ignored. Thank you that their salvation and provision does not depend wholly on us - your fickle followers.
Thank you for helping me earn enough money such that I don't have to blink at buying food, water or even a Bible for one in need. Thank you for that honour and privilege - that I can have enough to feed myself, contribute to my family, contribute to church and still have more than enough to give away to those in need.
Thank you for reminding me I have more than enough to give away. I must never ever forget that - I have enough. More. Than. Enough. No matter what others may think or tempt me to believe. It's not how much I earn. It's how I use what I earn. And use it for others I must.
Dang it. He has such a knack for teaching lessons in the strangest places. Now if only he can make my Chinese better....guess that's why the charismatics speak in tongues. heehee.
If you ever find yourself on that same island crossing at Bugis between 9pm -12am on a weekday, say hi to the little old lady and buy a couple of tissue packs.
Tell her God sent you.
It will give her a big kick. : )
I have never seen her say grace before over a meal. I have never seen her say grace before - period. So that kind of told me that she must have felt bad too about the tift. That was a very assuring sign to me that whatever angst was going to come up between us again could be continuously dealt with as long as we both had God in our lives and the Holy Spirit working to change hearts of stone to hearts of flesh.
I thought that was it for God's little lessons of the day
BUT that was not even the best or most touching part of the day.
My God is the original smarty pants - he always knows how to hammer down a point. He got Game - tricksy He is, my Saviour Lord.
Morning emotional angst had really exhausted me and by the time I finished teaching at 930pm today I was pretty tired. After horsing around with a stray cat, I crossed from Bugis Junction to Bugis Village to take a bus home.
To get to Bugis Village from Bugis Junction, you have to cross one traffic light, wait at an island in the middle of the road and cross a second traffic light. Often at this island this time of night, I would see a little old woman just sitting there, selling tissue paper from a raggedy pink plastic bag.
She is a pitiful sight - The island is full of endless human traffic but nobody ever stops to patronise her. a) It's a narrow island. you feel pressured by the anxiety of the other people. If you stop, you may hold up the flow of people b)people are usually moving too fast and are too anxious to catch the bus on the other side c) when she sits, scrawny little thing that she is, visually she is literally out of people's sight. It's subsequently very easy to not make eye contact. She easily becomes part of the urban scape, the wallpaper of the city.
Funny how that island works as a microcosm of our busy, busy selfish lives on the bigger island of Singapore eh?
Though I have seen her many times, I have never stopped to talk to her or buy tissue from her. I have always felt a little bit guilty about it. Worse, I knew I ought to have felt a whole lot more guilty. Feeling moved from my morning defensiveness about how I use my money for charity, I felt charged to break the habit of just walking past her. If I claimed I was using my money wisely as God intended, I damn well better live up to my claims one hundred percent, anyone, any time, anywhere, any context.
Fishing out $2, I asked her in broken Chinese, "Aunty, your tissue how much?" She handed over 5 packs with a small smile. Feeling convicted to go futher than just buying tissue, I continued asking her about whether she had eaten and how she was feeling. I could barely hear her response because of my bad command of Chinese and because of the never ending flow of people and roaring traffic all around us.
I could grasp bits and pieces:
-she had been poor and struggling since 12
-she only ate once a day.
-she stayed in Woodlands and was looking desperately for a cheaper place to stay.
-she owed $3000 in rent;
-she had a son who had been kidnapped when younger and subsequently, he was so psychologically affected that he could not find a stable job
-she worked as a cleaner in the morning and sold tissue here at night
-she felt Singaporeans were very evil-hearted for constantly calling the cops on her to report her for selling tissue paper illegally.
The conversation went on for a while. Feeling tired from stooping, I sat next to her like a fellow vagabond. Thank goodness for pants.
I managed to garble out, "Aunty, you very amazing. Your life is so difficult but sometimes when you speak, I see you still can smile. You very strong ah Aunty!"
That's when she hit me with the clincher, "That's only because I found God." Turns out her poor, permanently unemployable son, also has found God.
Thrilled, I immediately cried, "Aunty! Wah! You know Jesus ah? I am so happy for you!" She broke out in a big grin, "Of course! Before that ah, Aunty everyday cry and cry. Heart very pain. Know Jesus already, Know how to laugh!" She suddenly batted my arm with a buddy-like affection, "You ah.....I also wanted to ask you if you know Jesus!" We giggled at our mutual Christian nerdiness.
It was the most unnatural of pairings, a oddball fellowship - a tiny piece of heaven.
Bizarrely, as the conversation carried on, it almost seemed like we were not sitting on a dirty concrete island between traffic. The way we were laughing and bantering (even with my horrible 'tehhh' bimbo Chinese), it seemed like we were hanging out like a couple of Bugis Junction ah-lians. She kept punctuating her points with playful little punches to my arm.
I bought her a drink and some groceries from 7-11 since no food stalls were open. Apologising for the lack of proper food available, I asked her if she wanted anything else. She kept saying, 'AIyah you spent so much money already. Aunty Pai seh."
It came up to $12 - hardly a fortune to me but it must have been princely to someone who only ate once a day and could not even buy water for herself. So I bumbled," But Jesus help me earn money to buy you food what. Must one. Must one. Aunty don't need to pai seh lah! We all then pai seh, never help you." She laughed and asked me to help her find a Chinese-English Bible for her to read.
Scribbling my name and phone number, I told her I would definitely bring her one together with food more healthy than 7-11 crap. I told her to visit ARPC's mandarin ministry if she could. She seemed rather happy about it and asked me what time I went for service. Hugging her, I told her Jesus loved her very much before running for my bus.
I wish I could have prayed with her but my lousy Chinese might have ended the night in heresy. :) So instead on the bus home, I prayed for her and thought:
Thank you, God. Thank. YOU.
Thank you for being the God who looks after lives that fall between the cracks. You have your ways of finding and saving even the most lost and ignored. Thank you that their salvation and provision does not depend wholly on us - your fickle followers.
Thank you for helping me earn enough money such that I don't have to blink at buying food, water or even a Bible for one in need. Thank you for that honour and privilege - that I can have enough to feed myself, contribute to my family, contribute to church and still have more than enough to give away to those in need.
Thank you for reminding me I have more than enough to give away. I must never ever forget that - I have enough. More. Than. Enough. No matter what others may think or tempt me to believe. It's not how much I earn. It's how I use what I earn. And use it for others I must.
Dang it. He has such a knack for teaching lessons in the strangest places. Now if only he can make my Chinese better....guess that's why the charismatics speak in tongues. heehee.
If you ever find yourself on that same island crossing at Bugis between 9pm -12am on a weekday, say hi to the little old lady and buy a couple of tissue packs.
Tell her God sent you.
It will give her a big kick. : )
no money no honey
WARNING: angst alert.
am breaking out of my normal Care-Bear mode just to indulge in minor ranting. am also blogging a picture of Oolong - my fluffy waffle-balancing rabbit hero - to defray angsty rant-y blog entry.
Good to remember that you can be happy with very little - even a waffle balancing rabbit makes me happier than 500 gazillion Louis Vuitton bags or whatever logo-ed crap it is that people want these days.
whatever happened to the days when it was a proud thing just to be making "an honest living"?
hate feeling ashamed that I don't make as much "as I deserve to", or "as I ought to". Just because people with the same amount of education and opportunity as me are earning $10,000 a month does not mean I have to.
Am not a hotshot lawyer or banker or star insurance agent; I can't afford my own flat - ok lor. i don't feel bad about it, why should someone else?
Man, it hurts when someone you love hints that you are earning loser pay.
there is so much pain and suffering in the world and in the community around us. The last thing I want to be made ashamed about is how I am not earning as much as my peers - pui!
I got more things to be ashamed about ok....like I am rude to my mother, I am not praying enough for others, I am not thinking enough about others, etc. etc.
It's not how much I earn.
It's what I do with what I earn hor.
It's whether I handle what I earn wisely. That one you can nitpick about.
grrrr. ok. feeling less pissed and less down. rabbits are cute. i have made up with offending party and apologised for getting pissy.
forgiveness is always good.
See yet another nice thing that you don't need $10,000 a month to buy.
bah. end of angst.
return to smiley self.
am breaking out of my normal Care-Bear mode just to indulge in minor ranting. am also blogging a picture of Oolong - my fluffy waffle-balancing rabbit hero - to defray angsty rant-y blog entry.
Good to remember that you can be happy with very little - even a waffle balancing rabbit makes me happier than 500 gazillion Louis Vuitton bags or whatever logo-ed crap it is that people want these days.
whatever happened to the days when it was a proud thing just to be making "an honest living"?
hate feeling ashamed that I don't make as much "as I deserve to", or "as I ought to". Just because people with the same amount of education and opportunity as me are earning $10,000 a month does not mean I have to.
Am not a hotshot lawyer or banker or star insurance agent; I can't afford my own flat - ok lor. i don't feel bad about it, why should someone else?
Man, it hurts when someone you love hints that you are earning loser pay.
there is so much pain and suffering in the world and in the community around us. The last thing I want to be made ashamed about is how I am not earning as much as my peers - pui!
I got more things to be ashamed about ok....like I am rude to my mother, I am not praying enough for others, I am not thinking enough about others, etc. etc.
It's not how much I earn.
It's what I do with what I earn hor.
It's whether I handle what I earn wisely. That one you can nitpick about.
grrrr. ok. feeling less pissed and less down. rabbits are cute. i have made up with offending party and apologised for getting pissy.
forgiveness is always good.
See yet another nice thing that you don't need $10,000 a month to buy.
bah. end of angst.
return to smiley self.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
the simple life
reading some random blogs has been a sobering insight into little sadnesses and unspoken cries that constantly happen around you. How awful it is that your life can go on being so...normal and peaceful...even as others face their shadowy valleys. How wicked it is to feel that barest smudge of "wow, i am glad it is not me" that betrays the terror of your own sinful heart.
If I am ever tempted to feel proud or arrogant of the relative stability and happiness I have found in my own walk, I must remind myself to love, to sympathise, to empathise. I must remember to be still, be quiet and try and hear the needs around me.
Because i remember my own share of dark lonely hours - Where it was just me, God, a sleeping city and the open sky to weep to. These moments are always at night, when things are quiet and dead. Where removed from all the noise and cacophony we surround ourselves with, you are left naked with your own thoughts. And you suddenly understand the one nasty fact of a fallen world: no matter how many lovely friends you have, there are some moments where you are going to be alone and nobody else can follow you no matter how much they desire to. And you know this kind of existential loneliness is not the loneliness that will be solved by any normal human being you can conjure - family, friend, husband.
These are the moments where you most keenly feel the need for God - the invisible God, the sweet mystery you secretly sense behind every flower bud and distant star, the One who speaks straight into your heart the tiny whisper of hope that we cling to in despair: You matter. I love you. You will get through this because you are Mine Own. You don't see me. You don't understand me. But you will understand this - I love you. And if you understand this, live your life in rememberance of Me. Love Me. Love Thy Neighbour. Love with everything you have. Because You are Mine.
So this is my life:
I wake and rise to a life I never earned.
I try to remember to praise. I give thanks.
I work. I teach children to think, to find depth and beauty in the world, to see a big picture beyond.
I remember lives that cross my way. I try to figure out why they cross my way.
I try to meet needs. I try to love. I make mistakes.
I wound. I bite my tongue. I apologise. I talk. I laugh.
I dream and hope and fear. I place all these dreams, hopes and fears into His hands.
Sometimes they come true. Sometimes they don't.
I sleep and find rest in a grace and peace I never earned.
that's all that is important to know at the end of days. It is a simple life.
I hope I continue in that simple life. I hope more people find that simple life.
So tonight - in the stillness of 2am - I want to remember the weary and the broken-hearted, the ones who despair late at night beneath the smile they put on in the day, the ones who keep their pains hidden:
I cannot offer you anything but a hope and a prayer and a promise: there is a God who can be all these things that I cannot be to you and yours. I want to be there for you but I will be found wanting and pathetically, woefully inadequate. But God won't and never will be insufficient. He loves, He remembers. And for that, so will I try to do so for the rest of my days. That's my promise to you. Hold me to that promise. Please.
If I am ever tempted to feel proud or arrogant of the relative stability and happiness I have found in my own walk, I must remind myself to love, to sympathise, to empathise. I must remember to be still, be quiet and try and hear the needs around me.
Because i remember my own share of dark lonely hours - Where it was just me, God, a sleeping city and the open sky to weep to. These moments are always at night, when things are quiet and dead. Where removed from all the noise and cacophony we surround ourselves with, you are left naked with your own thoughts. And you suddenly understand the one nasty fact of a fallen world: no matter how many lovely friends you have, there are some moments where you are going to be alone and nobody else can follow you no matter how much they desire to. And you know this kind of existential loneliness is not the loneliness that will be solved by any normal human being you can conjure - family, friend, husband.
These are the moments where you most keenly feel the need for God - the invisible God, the sweet mystery you secretly sense behind every flower bud and distant star, the One who speaks straight into your heart the tiny whisper of hope that we cling to in despair: You matter. I love you. You will get through this because you are Mine Own. You don't see me. You don't understand me. But you will understand this - I love you. And if you understand this, live your life in rememberance of Me. Love Me. Love Thy Neighbour. Love with everything you have. Because You are Mine.
So this is my life:
I wake and rise to a life I never earned.
I try to remember to praise. I give thanks.
I work. I teach children to think, to find depth and beauty in the world, to see a big picture beyond.
I remember lives that cross my way. I try to figure out why they cross my way.
I try to meet needs. I try to love. I make mistakes.
I wound. I bite my tongue. I apologise. I talk. I laugh.
I dream and hope and fear. I place all these dreams, hopes and fears into His hands.
Sometimes they come true. Sometimes they don't.
I sleep and find rest in a grace and peace I never earned.
that's all that is important to know at the end of days. It is a simple life.
I hope I continue in that simple life. I hope more people find that simple life.
So tonight - in the stillness of 2am - I want to remember the weary and the broken-hearted, the ones who despair late at night beneath the smile they put on in the day, the ones who keep their pains hidden:
I cannot offer you anything but a hope and a prayer and a promise: there is a God who can be all these things that I cannot be to you and yours. I want to be there for you but I will be found wanting and pathetically, woefully inadequate. But God won't and never will be insufficient. He loves, He remembers. And for that, so will I try to do so for the rest of my days. That's my promise to you. Hold me to that promise. Please.
the emergent church
Saturday night, I checked out Sonicfest with RockclimberGrrrl and bumped into FunkyArchitect (from that dinner initiated by M) and his cell group. We had a fun time going out for supper - again, like the time I met M, I found myself among a group of strangers who were kindred thinkers/feelers, on fire about their Christianity. Around me was an architect, a voluntary school dropout turned freelance theatre practitioner, a motion graphics artist and a former hearing aid sales guy.
It was really encouraging and fun to hear them spout endlessly, fervently and effortlessly about God. It was a fascinatingly varied discussion: the impact of unconscious racial/cultural segregation on Singaporean Christian thinking; the effectiveness of God's choice of metaphors in the Bible; using design thinking processes to drive the way we think about evangelism etc.
The interesting thing about this cell group is that it is an interdenominational, informal gathering of creatives, fringe people and curious non-Christians. They are committed to their own mainline churches but have got together in this alternative cell group to discuss questions and issues that may not see the light of day in conventional churches.
It's a pretty cool thought: that the Body of the Church is operating on so many levels. There are those who specialise in holding the fort, expounding on theology, holding onto the Word in the Mind; then there are those who specialise in communicating the Word through fervour, Heart and emotion; then there are those who specialise in communicating the Word through the Strength of their actions...cool stuff.
It may be too easy for conservative churches to jump at judging these emergent churches as renegades, non-conformists, who just want to defy traditions and question truths. But that would be doing many of these emergent churches a great injustice. Their desire to rethink and reassess the integrity of their Christian walk within their communities is very genuine and heartening. The people from the emergent churches I have come across are as serious about making their walk right with God as any sober Bible-believing stoic. The difference seems to be expression?
The Emergent Mystique
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2004/011/12.36.html
"Yet recently McLaren has started to sketch the outlines of his vision of a postmodern church. He sketches a big circle labeled "self," a smaller circle next to it labeled "church," and a tiny circle off to the side labeled "world."
"This has been evangelicalism's model," he says. "Fundamentally it's about getting yourself 'saved'—in old-style evangelicalism—or improving your life in the new style. Either way, the Christian life is really about you and your needs. Once your needs are met, then we think about how you can serve the church. And then, if there's anything left over, we ask how the church might serve the world."
He starts drawing again. "But what if it went the other way? This big circle is the world—the world God loved so much that he sent his Son. Inside that circle is another one, the church, God's people chosen to demonstrate his love to the world. And inside that is a small circle, which is your self. It's not about the church meeting your needs, it's about you joining the mission of God's people to meet the world's needs."
________________________________________________________________
The Emerging Church, Part One
http://www.pbs.org/wnet/religionandethics/week845/cover.html
"It can't be simply defined; it can't be simply categorized. And it's causing no end of frustration for people who'd like to have tidier boxes. This is the way they want it because they believe the gospel should have a local expression."
It was really encouraging and fun to hear them spout endlessly, fervently and effortlessly about God. It was a fascinatingly varied discussion: the impact of unconscious racial/cultural segregation on Singaporean Christian thinking; the effectiveness of God's choice of metaphors in the Bible; using design thinking processes to drive the way we think about evangelism etc.
The interesting thing about this cell group is that it is an interdenominational, informal gathering of creatives, fringe people and curious non-Christians. They are committed to their own mainline churches but have got together in this alternative cell group to discuss questions and issues that may not see the light of day in conventional churches.
It's a pretty cool thought: that the Body of the Church is operating on so many levels. There are those who specialise in holding the fort, expounding on theology, holding onto the Word in the Mind; then there are those who specialise in communicating the Word through fervour, Heart and emotion; then there are those who specialise in communicating the Word through the Strength of their actions...cool stuff.
It may be too easy for conservative churches to jump at judging these emergent churches as renegades, non-conformists, who just want to defy traditions and question truths. But that would be doing many of these emergent churches a great injustice. Their desire to rethink and reassess the integrity of their Christian walk within their communities is very genuine and heartening. The people from the emergent churches I have come across are as serious about making their walk right with God as any sober Bible-believing stoic. The difference seems to be expression?
The Emergent Mystique
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2004/011/12.36.html
"Yet recently McLaren has started to sketch the outlines of his vision of a postmodern church. He sketches a big circle labeled "self," a smaller circle next to it labeled "church," and a tiny circle off to the side labeled "world."
"This has been evangelicalism's model," he says. "Fundamentally it's about getting yourself 'saved'—in old-style evangelicalism—or improving your life in the new style. Either way, the Christian life is really about you and your needs. Once your needs are met, then we think about how you can serve the church. And then, if there's anything left over, we ask how the church might serve the world."
He starts drawing again. "But what if it went the other way? This big circle is the world—the world God loved so much that he sent his Son. Inside that circle is another one, the church, God's people chosen to demonstrate his love to the world. And inside that is a small circle, which is your self. It's not about the church meeting your needs, it's about you joining the mission of God's people to meet the world's needs."
________________________________________________________________
The Emerging Church, Part One
http://www.pbs.org/wnet/religionandethics/week845/cover.html
"It can't be simply defined; it can't be simply categorized. And it's causing no end of frustration for people who'd like to have tidier boxes. This is the way they want it because they believe the gospel should have a local expression."
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