1)You are more aware of the fragility of life and come to terms that you are not all that invicible.
There is this impetuous arrogance associated with youth where you felt you could do anything, at any risk (what risk?) whenever you wanted to. The world was your oyster. You went anywhere your heart took you too. Recklessness and wilfulness impersonated as freedom to take you to unregulated places, unchartered wilderness to grow up.
These days, risks are calculated, pondered over, prayed over before you gingerly take a miniscule step into the great unknown. Even though you knew you tried your best to minimize any risk and had enough faith that you were armed with the best you could get your hands on (knowledge, homework, God), you can't help but still feel the trepidation in your spine.
2)You eat less, sleep less but still put on weight. Gone are the days when you can live like a bear incarnate and eat and sleep all day while still looking like a twig. Metabolism has an inverse relationship with the number of days lived. If you want to eat, work hard (at the gym/pool) and don't whine after that.
3)Your world gets bigger. You don't live for yourself, study for your own purposes etc.You are no longer responsible for just yourself. Your work affects others, you affect others, what happens to you affects your family. Case in point: In school, if you fail, you fail alone. In the workplace, regardless of what your vocation is, a single mistake might cost your boss/corporation/yourself a lot.
4)The 'O'/'A' levels weren't that big a deal after all.
5)People are important. Don't sweat the small stuff and ruin relationships. Talk through the big stuff. Pray together as often as possible. Live, laugh love together. They are a big part of what we are on Earth for. Life is just better when you have people to love. Sometimes it's not reciprocal but it shouldn't stop us anywhere. There is more than enough in the vault but too little in circulation.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Lunch time musings
Psalms 143: 12
And in your steadfast love you will cut off my enemies, and you will destroy all the adversaries of my soul, for I am your servant.
Step by step, bit by bit, sometimes more in an instant, I am seeing the enemies I have long battled with vanquish in His presence. Fear, insomnia and anxiety are slowly consumed away as Love takes over. The battle is not over but I can smell victory. The sojourn through the wilderness was not in vain as even in the mirage that blinds my vision to experience my faithful Savior in more tangible ways, I learnt (at least a little) to trust. I caught a greater glimpse into the depths of His love and His character.
They all say that hindsight gives you 20/20 vision. I absolutely agree. But in the days of rock bottom when hope has totally vapourised and I am but rummaging through the debris of my broken faith with hardly any strength to cling on nor any memory of His past goodness and faithfulness, I always still find Him. Waiting for me, as always. Even though I'm at the end of the line, hanging by the thinnest possible thread.
My wilderness experience however is nothing compared to other harsh trials others have to go through. My heart grieved with pain when I heard devastating news of a friend's young daughter who was diagnosed with cancer. The parents are a couple that have been faithful stewards in the kingdom. Naturally, questions such as 'why' and 'why them' arose. The lack of answer fuels the already deep-seated frustration and helplessness.
I do not claim to have the answers. Any honest soul will tell you they don't know. We might make a few guesses but no one will ever truly know. All I take comfort in is, inspite of the suffering, there is one who goes through it with you faithfully. There is a comfort that can penetrate the deepest embers of the soul that is greater than any physical suffering. There is a hope of eternal reunification in a glorious place called Heaven. And hang on, inspite of how grim the prognosis is, there is hope for healing. Though it bides it's time, it's a possibility. Captives of cancer and other debilitating diseases have risen from their sick beds by the healing power of Jesus.
My prayer is that in these moments, though they are trying and hard, we cling on to the truth-which is God is still good. And may the praises that emanate during this time be such a sweet pleasant sacrifice to Him, for they originate from a place of great pain and suffering. I pray that as a community, we respond right. We lend love and support to the family and continue to intercede relentlessly and stand in the gap to war for the destiny of a child and for the evil one to take his filthy hands off one of our own.
And in your steadfast love you will cut off my enemies, and you will destroy all the adversaries of my soul, for I am your servant.
Step by step, bit by bit, sometimes more in an instant, I am seeing the enemies I have long battled with vanquish in His presence. Fear, insomnia and anxiety are slowly consumed away as Love takes over. The battle is not over but I can smell victory. The sojourn through the wilderness was not in vain as even in the mirage that blinds my vision to experience my faithful Savior in more tangible ways, I learnt (at least a little) to trust. I caught a greater glimpse into the depths of His love and His character.
They all say that hindsight gives you 20/20 vision. I absolutely agree. But in the days of rock bottom when hope has totally vapourised and I am but rummaging through the debris of my broken faith with hardly any strength to cling on nor any memory of His past goodness and faithfulness, I always still find Him. Waiting for me, as always. Even though I'm at the end of the line, hanging by the thinnest possible thread.
My wilderness experience however is nothing compared to other harsh trials others have to go through. My heart grieved with pain when I heard devastating news of a friend's young daughter who was diagnosed with cancer. The parents are a couple that have been faithful stewards in the kingdom. Naturally, questions such as 'why' and 'why them' arose. The lack of answer fuels the already deep-seated frustration and helplessness.
I do not claim to have the answers. Any honest soul will tell you they don't know. We might make a few guesses but no one will ever truly know. All I take comfort in is, inspite of the suffering, there is one who goes through it with you faithfully. There is a comfort that can penetrate the deepest embers of the soul that is greater than any physical suffering. There is a hope of eternal reunification in a glorious place called Heaven. And hang on, inspite of how grim the prognosis is, there is hope for healing. Though it bides it's time, it's a possibility. Captives of cancer and other debilitating diseases have risen from their sick beds by the healing power of Jesus.
My prayer is that in these moments, though they are trying and hard, we cling on to the truth-which is God is still good. And may the praises that emanate during this time be such a sweet pleasant sacrifice to Him, for they originate from a place of great pain and suffering. I pray that as a community, we respond right. We lend love and support to the family and continue to intercede relentlessly and stand in the gap to war for the destiny of a child and for the evil one to take his filthy hands off one of our own.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Rough patch
It's been rough and just last week, I was bemoaning that the GPS of my life seems to have lost signal. Some days, the cloud shrouding my thoughts are so thick I can't see past it and I just let my emotions sink like quicksand.
I've shed so much tears in the last two weeks such that puffy eyes seem to be a permanent feature. I cry at everything and it's wearing me so thin. I've lost sleep, appetite, joy and peace from this strenuous dehydrating exercise.
Yesterday, I was at the wake of a woman who finished her race with the Lord after 91 years. I was in the company of her family who mourned her passing yet celebrate her homecoming and the 91 years well lived.
I started to think hard about what I'd like to be said for my eulogy and that petrified me, simply because I can scarcely think of anything good to say. Maybe just let my epitaph read "Good wife, daughter, mother and grandmother". Short and sweet. And "good'' is subjective and vague enough.
I realised wakes and funerals are not so much for the deceased by for the ones left behind. Attendees pay their last respects but also to lend support and love the grieving parties. We spend an average of 3 days to comfort, mourn and reminisce and then almost leave them to struggle with the loss when life resumes on day 4. I think it's weird and because this is a family that is very close to my heart, I wish I'd known better how to help them or alleviate their sorrow. Words alone just don't suffice during those moments. I feel awkward not knowing how to help, what to say.
However, I take comfort in the fact that in Christ, there'll be no eternal separation and this family will one day be reunited in the kingdom of heaven. However, when you really love, even a temporal separation cuts to the bone and can be so heart wrenching. In the meantime, until heaven beckons, we will have to seek solace in memories alone.
Bare feet tickled by the powdery sand
Pressing footprints along the shore
A vain attempt to leave a testament
That I walked this path before
Will you remember
Will you remember me
-Corrine May, Will you remember me
I've shed so much tears in the last two weeks such that puffy eyes seem to be a permanent feature. I cry at everything and it's wearing me so thin. I've lost sleep, appetite, joy and peace from this strenuous dehydrating exercise.
Yesterday, I was at the wake of a woman who finished her race with the Lord after 91 years. I was in the company of her family who mourned her passing yet celebrate her homecoming and the 91 years well lived.
I started to think hard about what I'd like to be said for my eulogy and that petrified me, simply because I can scarcely think of anything good to say. Maybe just let my epitaph read "Good wife, daughter, mother and grandmother". Short and sweet. And "good'' is subjective and vague enough.
I realised wakes and funerals are not so much for the deceased by for the ones left behind. Attendees pay their last respects but also to lend support and love the grieving parties. We spend an average of 3 days to comfort, mourn and reminisce and then almost leave them to struggle with the loss when life resumes on day 4. I think it's weird and because this is a family that is very close to my heart, I wish I'd known better how to help them or alleviate their sorrow. Words alone just don't suffice during those moments. I feel awkward not knowing how to help, what to say.
However, I take comfort in the fact that in Christ, there'll be no eternal separation and this family will one day be reunited in the kingdom of heaven. However, when you really love, even a temporal separation cuts to the bone and can be so heart wrenching. In the meantime, until heaven beckons, we will have to seek solace in memories alone.
Bare feet tickled by the powdery sand
Pressing footprints along the shore
A vain attempt to leave a testament
That I walked this path before
Will you remember
Will you remember me
-Corrine May, Will you remember me
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