My 6 years of blogging at Woollylifestock will come to an end.
I am moving, only because I need a fresh start.
You can read my subsequent blogposts here. Goodbye and see you on the other side.
Monday 3 July 2017
Tuesday 30 May 2017
A lovely week
Term break at last.
I forfeited my previous term break and taught throughout (that was in March) because I wanted to save up some holidays for more crucial times of the year. Most of my students didn't go anywhere that week because it was only one week of holidays, and so their parents agreed to bring them for classes. Looking back, while it was certainly a fruitful week, I don't think it was kind - at least to myself, the teacher. By April, especially towards the recital and beyond, I was burning out fast. I was growing very resentful towards the kids who habitually do not practise (and parents who think that it's the teacher's responsibility to keep them on track regardless of their commitment). Hyperventilating out of great annoyance has been a common phenomena of late. Good grief! It is a wonder that my hairs haven't turned white yet.
And then May arrived.
I am so thankful that the term break has begun, for my sanity's sake. It began with a lot of meet-ups with good friends from near and afar; it will conclude with a family vacation. Needless to say, time will fly past because we're having fun and soon, the term break will be over. But I hope to make every moment count and so, I am even blogging - which I haven't done in a while.
Anyway, a side-note...
The other day, an ex-student of mine texted; said that she was moving house and she had two boxes of piano repertoire for lower grades up to ATCL; wouldn't be needing those books ever again, so would I please have them?
Those of you who read my previous post know that I might be resigning from my job at the music school end of this year; this happened right after I informed my bosses. (By God's grace, they were open about it despite our short-handed situation.) My ex-student's offer seemed to point me to the fact that I will always be a music teacher somehow, and ultimately, God's musician. So, don't feel like the world will leave you behind even if you have to step out of the teaching scene again, for a while... "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways...for as the Heavens are higher than the Earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts..." (Isa. 55:8, 9). I was struck by the irony of my situation; here I was worrying about the practical aspects of my resignation: will I be OK as a stay-at-home-mom again? Where will the money come from? How will my portfolio look? Will I be able to work from home? Will my employers be furious? Etc. But God, who has all the answers, only acknowledged so very kindly the fear deep down inside my subconscious - the fear that I would be a nobody... forgotten, left behind, and looked down upon.
Indeed, to obey God is better than well-meaning and even pious-looking acts that ultimately serve self.
I forfeited my previous term break and taught throughout (that was in March) because I wanted to save up some holidays for more crucial times of the year. Most of my students didn't go anywhere that week because it was only one week of holidays, and so their parents agreed to bring them for classes. Looking back, while it was certainly a fruitful week, I don't think it was kind - at least to myself, the teacher. By April, especially towards the recital and beyond, I was burning out fast. I was growing very resentful towards the kids who habitually do not practise (and parents who think that it's the teacher's responsibility to keep them on track regardless of their commitment). Hyperventilating out of great annoyance has been a common phenomena of late. Good grief! It is a wonder that my hairs haven't turned white yet.
And then May arrived.
I am so thankful that the term break has begun, for my sanity's sake. It began with a lot of meet-ups with good friends from near and afar; it will conclude with a family vacation. Needless to say, time will fly past because we're having fun and soon, the term break will be over. But I hope to make every moment count and so, I am even blogging - which I haven't done in a while.
Anyway, a side-note...
The other day, an ex-student of mine texted; said that she was moving house and she had two boxes of piano repertoire for lower grades up to ATCL; wouldn't be needing those books ever again, so would I please have them?
Those of you who read my previous post know that I might be resigning from my job at the music school end of this year; this happened right after I informed my bosses. (By God's grace, they were open about it despite our short-handed situation.) My ex-student's offer seemed to point me to the fact that I will always be a music teacher somehow, and ultimately, God's musician. So, don't feel like the world will leave you behind even if you have to step out of the teaching scene again, for a while... "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways...for as the Heavens are higher than the Earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts..." (Isa. 55:8, 9). I was struck by the irony of my situation; here I was worrying about the practical aspects of my resignation: will I be OK as a stay-at-home-mom again? Where will the money come from? How will my portfolio look? Will I be able to work from home? Will my employers be furious? Etc. But God, who has all the answers, only acknowledged so very kindly the fear deep down inside my subconscious - the fear that I would be a nobody... forgotten, left behind, and looked down upon.
Indeed, to obey God is better than well-meaning and even pious-looking acts that ultimately serve self.
Tuesday 16 May 2017
Change
Many of us are terrified of change (yours truly included). I'm not talking about coins and petty cash - but having (again) to move from the familiar to the unfamiliar and sometimes unknown. With the new comes the nostalgic pining for the old, a struggle to hold on a little more to today, a sort of tentativeness, and yet you want so much to believe that one day things will fall into place. Will they?
It has been a comfortably predictable life of late. Sure, my work can be very stressful and emotionally draining. But it also means that I get to put Sophie through Pre-K and daycare with my earnings and contribute to the family's financial needs. Sophie has been doing fine in school so far and a routine has been established. Well then, the backdrop changed all of a sudden (more about this some other day) and everything is looking different now that I have to prepare mind, heart, body (yes!) and soul to be stay-at-home mom once again after Christmas. Where will all that money come from? Will Sophie still be able to go to school? How will my portfolio look? Will I be able to work from the home? Will my employers be furious? (Admittedly, I'm rather indispensable in our shorthanded workforce at the moment.) Etc. God alone has the answers. I will have to trust Him and allow Him to hem me in behind and before (Ps. 139:5).
But something truly encouraged me today. This:
"By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed by going to a place which he was to receive as an inheritance; and he went out not knowing where he was going. By faith he lived as an alien in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, fellow heirs of the same promise; for he was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God." (Hebrews 11:8-10) A few things are especially striking to me: Abraham obeying when he was called; God's promise to bless him and Abraham's absolute certainty of receiving the blessing that he was willing to sojourn in that unknown, foreign land; and his anticipation that God would establish what He has promised. Let go and let God, indeed.
A little early, I suppose - but what will the New Year bring?
It has been a comfortably predictable life of late. Sure, my work can be very stressful and emotionally draining. But it also means that I get to put Sophie through Pre-K and daycare with my earnings and contribute to the family's financial needs. Sophie has been doing fine in school so far and a routine has been established. Well then, the backdrop changed all of a sudden (more about this some other day) and everything is looking different now that I have to prepare mind, heart, body (yes!) and soul to be stay-at-home mom once again after Christmas. Where will all that money come from? Will Sophie still be able to go to school? How will my portfolio look? Will I be able to work from the home? Will my employers be furious? (Admittedly, I'm rather indispensable in our shorthanded workforce at the moment.) Etc. God alone has the answers. I will have to trust Him and allow Him to hem me in behind and before (Ps. 139:5).
But something truly encouraged me today. This:
"By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed by going to a place which he was to receive as an inheritance; and he went out not knowing where he was going. By faith he lived as an alien in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, fellow heirs of the same promise; for he was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God." (Hebrews 11:8-10) A few things are especially striking to me: Abraham obeying when he was called; God's promise to bless him and Abraham's absolute certainty of receiving the blessing that he was willing to sojourn in that unknown, foreign land; and his anticipation that God would establish what He has promised. Let go and let God, indeed.
A little early, I suppose - but what will the New Year bring?
Saturday 13 May 2017
Sophie's birthday
There was a lot of rejoicing on her birthday this year (then again, we rejoice every year). On her first birthday, she began walking on her own. On her second birthday, she began cycling properly. And on her third birthday this year, we thanked God for all the new progresses that took place in the past few months - her settling down in school and after-school care, toilet-training, learning how to read (English and Mandarin flashcards), her confession of her faith in Jesus Christ (and baptism), language development, words of affirmation for us (particularly her mummy), etc. I see her running around our house, playing pretend games and wanting to be involved in every activity possible... and I feel, honestly, very proud of her.
We had a simple celebration for Sophie on Tuesday - cake, candles, presents, and the wonderful presence of her extended family members.
It was nothing particularly expensive or fancy, partially because I have to teach up till 8.30pm on Tuesdays and also because we will be going on a family vacation later this month to celebrate our wedding anniversary as well as her birthday. Sophie was delighted nevertheless, with the simple pleasures and smiled the entire evening away. The highlight was perhaps breaking open her birthday (Peppa Pig) pinata which I had constructed out of cardboard 2 days prior. Rather than fill it with sweets, I put in little thrills a toddler like her would appreciate - chocolate eggs with toys inside, balloons to blow up, a pair of Peppa Pig red spectacle frames, a Sylvanian Family baby rabbit on its rocking horse, and a tub of hair ties. Needless to say... she loved them!
And she must have felt so loved.
What surprises will her 4th year of life bring, I wonder. My prayer is that she would grow in her relationship with God... and get to know and love Him more.
We love you, big baby.
We had a simple celebration for Sophie on Tuesday - cake, candles, presents, and the wonderful presence of her extended family members.
 |
| Sophie's birthday guests (I assure you that they were not zombies...) |
And she must have felt so loved.
What surprises will her 4th year of life bring, I wonder. My prayer is that she would grow in her relationship with God... and get to know and love Him more.
We love you, big baby.
Monday 24 April 2017
I could do with a.....
...holiday. A getaway vacation.
Having taught non-stop since February (I even taught during the term break as long as the school was not closed in order to carry forward the holidays to a "better" time) and having undergone the stresses of preparing my students for an important recital, I am dead tired.
I used to be able to burn the midnight oil with ease. Nowadays, I fall asleep sitting up. Literally. In a blink of the eye - again, literally - I'm off to La-la land. A long blink. This is way weirder than I thought.
Why must vacations cost so much money?
Having taught non-stop since February (I even taught during the term break as long as the school was not closed in order to carry forward the holidays to a "better" time) and having undergone the stresses of preparing my students for an important recital, I am dead tired.
I used to be able to burn the midnight oil with ease. Nowadays, I fall asleep sitting up. Literally. In a blink of the eye - again, literally - I'm off to La-la land. A long blink. This is way weirder than I thought.
Why must vacations cost so much money?
Saturday 22 April 2017
Recital Over
Strangely, somehow, we (most of us) also look forward to bigger challenges ahead - more recitals, competitions, and next year's School Junior Original Concert (SJOC). Many were first-timers with regards to public performances this round and were pleasantly surprised that it wasn't as bad/scary as they had expected. (But still scary.)
I'm not sure about the exams though.
I wish that I had listened more to the playing. Most of the time, I was running into the waiting/backstage-y room, reading out names, lining the students up, shushing the rowdy, keeping the monkeys under control, and etc. (My students' mistakes didn't escape my OCD ears though, haha! Of course, I was careful and merciful not to remind my students of the mistakes when we reviewed the individual performances later. However, they never forgot - and showered me with the sincerest of apologies.) The teachers were physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted at the end of the recital. We rewarded ourselves with champagne and roast pork after everything was over.
Wednesday 19 April 2017
Sophie's diaries : Easter 2017 and her Not-so-Infant Baptism
After wrestling with the idea of infant baptism for 3 years, we finally decided to baptise our firstborn today.
Now of course, by this time, she isn't an infant anymore. She is also able to confess on her own that Jesus Christ died on the cross for all our sins - hers, mummy's, daddy's, gong-gong's, ah-ee's, etc - whatever her understanding of sin is - and yet, He is alive. She requests prayers; prays over the little hurdles she meets in life (like "God, please put all the bad guys in the world in the naughty corner..." or "God, please give us an empty parking lot..."); looks forward to the eschaton where she will meet especially that older brother who died in mummy's tummy and returned Home to God; and is able to reason much more than an infant. She manifests faith to a certain extent. Her baptism was not-so-infant. But, I am glad that I thought through the whole infant baptism thing... and I am not too ashamed to admit that my previous understanding of it could have been incomplete.
Here are the points I thoroughly considered:
First, while it is essential that a person confesses with his mouth that Jesus is Lord and believes in his heart that God raised Him from the dead (Rom. 10:9), where in the Bible does it say that baptism can only be administered for one who has reached the age of reason to do so with full conviction prior to baptism? While repentant converts were certainly baptised as the impetus for discipleship, we also read in the Book of Acts that their families were baptised with them, e.g. Lydia (16:15) and the Philippian jailer (16:33). Among the families/households must have been children of all ages, infants included. Furthermore, the Apostle Paul notes that baptism has replaced conventional circumcision; it is to be a "circumcision made without hands" (Col. 2:11-12). As we know, circumcision under the Old Covenant was for Jewish infants as much as it was for older boys and men among God's chosen people. Such unaware infants were circumcised in anticipation of the faith and community in which they would be raised. Would Paul have chosen such a metaphor for baptism if he had meant to exclude infants? And what about the mentally disabled who can never fully reason on their own?
Secondly, one is admitted to Holy Communion on the basis of his/her baptism. In other words, baptism initiates one into the life of the church community, beginning with the Lord's table. If we expect our children to participate in corporate worship, get serious about God, commit to discipleship, and make disciples (Matt. 28:18-20), they should first have a sense of belonging to the community. Holy Communion, I believe, should then be an important part of a child's early experiences of church because it nourishes this sense of belonging. (Of course, teaching children not to take it in vain is just as important.) Furthermore, the Holy Communion and its liturgy speak so much of God's grace - past, present, and future. Holy Communion is in fact, a sacrament that strengthens, affirms and conveys the grace it symbolises. Must a child/infant, by virtue of his/her baptism, only have access to it when he/she reaches the age of reason? What is the age of reason anyway? Can we, adults, say that we are fully reasonable at our age?
Thirdly, what is baptism? Is it just a public manifestation of a person's conversion or is it more? Is it necessary for salvation? For those who can be baptised, "...Baptism... saves you... not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ" (1 Pet. 3:21). Baptism joins us to Christ's death by which we are set free from the power of sin - because he/she who dies finally escapes the grip of sin (Rom. 6:7). Just as God's people were no longer slaves in Egypt through the water, we are no longer slaves to sin - and we can finally obey God if we wanted to. We can now say NO to sin and say YES to God - a lifelong responsibility and journey. Which parent, given the opportunity and their authority over their children's lives, would not want to avail this grace to them - the ability to say no to sin and say yes to God? "Permit the children to come to Me," Jesus said as His disciples rebuked the mothers bringing their brepha (Greek: infants) to Him so that He might touch them; "and do not hinder them for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these" (Lk. 18:15-16). One day, they must decide for themselves to follow Jesus wholeheartedly. But until then (and who knows what tomorrow might bring), is it not right for parents to bring their brepha through the exodus waters of freedom so that the brepha grow up in a new kingdom?
I am sure that I would be more open to baptising the next infant I have (if ever).
Now of course, by this time, she isn't an infant anymore. She is also able to confess on her own that Jesus Christ died on the cross for all our sins - hers, mummy's, daddy's, gong-gong's, ah-ee's, etc - whatever her understanding of sin is - and yet, He is alive. She requests prayers; prays over the little hurdles she meets in life (like "God, please put all the bad guys in the world in the naughty corner..." or "God, please give us an empty parking lot..."); looks forward to the eschaton where she will meet especially that older brother who died in mummy's tummy and returned Home to God; and is able to reason much more than an infant. She manifests faith to a certain extent. Her baptism was not-so-infant. But, I am glad that I thought through the whole infant baptism thing... and I am not too ashamed to admit that my previous understanding of it could have been incomplete.
Here are the points I thoroughly considered:
First, while it is essential that a person confesses with his mouth that Jesus is Lord and believes in his heart that God raised Him from the dead (Rom. 10:9), where in the Bible does it say that baptism can only be administered for one who has reached the age of reason to do so with full conviction prior to baptism? While repentant converts were certainly baptised as the impetus for discipleship, we also read in the Book of Acts that their families were baptised with them, e.g. Lydia (16:15) and the Philippian jailer (16:33). Among the families/households must have been children of all ages, infants included. Furthermore, the Apostle Paul notes that baptism has replaced conventional circumcision; it is to be a "circumcision made without hands" (Col. 2:11-12). As we know, circumcision under the Old Covenant was for Jewish infants as much as it was for older boys and men among God's chosen people. Such unaware infants were circumcised in anticipation of the faith and community in which they would be raised. Would Paul have chosen such a metaphor for baptism if he had meant to exclude infants? And what about the mentally disabled who can never fully reason on their own?
Secondly, one is admitted to Holy Communion on the basis of his/her baptism. In other words, baptism initiates one into the life of the church community, beginning with the Lord's table. If we expect our children to participate in corporate worship, get serious about God, commit to discipleship, and make disciples (Matt. 28:18-20), they should first have a sense of belonging to the community. Holy Communion, I believe, should then be an important part of a child's early experiences of church because it nourishes this sense of belonging. (Of course, teaching children not to take it in vain is just as important.) Furthermore, the Holy Communion and its liturgy speak so much of God's grace - past, present, and future. Holy Communion is in fact, a sacrament that strengthens, affirms and conveys the grace it symbolises. Must a child/infant, by virtue of his/her baptism, only have access to it when he/she reaches the age of reason? What is the age of reason anyway? Can we, adults, say that we are fully reasonable at our age?
Thirdly, what is baptism? Is it just a public manifestation of a person's conversion or is it more? Is it necessary for salvation? For those who can be baptised, "...Baptism... saves you... not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ" (1 Pet. 3:21). Baptism joins us to Christ's death by which we are set free from the power of sin - because he/she who dies finally escapes the grip of sin (Rom. 6:7). Just as God's people were no longer slaves in Egypt through the water, we are no longer slaves to sin - and we can finally obey God if we wanted to. We can now say NO to sin and say YES to God - a lifelong responsibility and journey. Which parent, given the opportunity and their authority over their children's lives, would not want to avail this grace to them - the ability to say no to sin and say yes to God? "Permit the children to come to Me," Jesus said as His disciples rebuked the mothers bringing their brepha (Greek: infants) to Him so that He might touch them; "and do not hinder them for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these" (Lk. 18:15-16). One day, they must decide for themselves to follow Jesus wholeheartedly. But until then (and who knows what tomorrow might bring), is it not right for parents to bring their brepha through the exodus waters of freedom so that the brepha grow up in a new kingdom?
I am sure that I would be more open to baptising the next infant I have (if ever).
Thursday 13 April 2017
Stress
A concert is coming up next Monday, during which 24 students under my tutelage will be performing their own compositions at the showroom of our music school.
I am so stressed out. 20% of my students haven't quite gotten their act together yet - and so I have been doing extra classes (some overlapping one another), running up and down the stairs to check on their practice progresses, scolding, nagging (haha) and etc. I will admit that I am not just nervous for their sakes but also mine. Teachers should not be held responsible for their students' failures if they have worked as hard as we do - and indeed, our school trusts its teachers - but with parents (as well as the big shot Mr. Adjudicator coming up from the headquarters), you never know. Then again, like a friend commented today... "As usual, I think you are too hard on yourself. You set your standards too high... to the point, I roll my eyes. Maybe, you should tell yourself: I am good... so good, that you will beg me to stop."
It is me who is rolling my eyes now. But he has got a point.
Anyway, I should be thankful.
Thankful that 80% of my students know their stuff, even though their tempos might be unsteady and they still pause every now and then to catch up. Thankful for their willingness (and grace) to bear with the hard work, the difficulties, the naggings. Thankful that the remaining 20% haven't given up yet. Thankful that there are still 4 days left for these to get their act together. God, thank You.
So when it was time to say goodbye to my littlest student today, I told her, "R, I am proud of you. No matter how you play on that day, I will still be very proud of you."
Her beam gladdened my heart.
I am so stressed out. 20% of my students haven't quite gotten their act together yet - and so I have been doing extra classes (some overlapping one another), running up and down the stairs to check on their practice progresses, scolding, nagging (haha) and etc. I will admit that I am not just nervous for their sakes but also mine. Teachers should not be held responsible for their students' failures if they have worked as hard as we do - and indeed, our school trusts its teachers - but with parents (as well as the big shot Mr. Adjudicator coming up from the headquarters), you never know. Then again, like a friend commented today... "As usual, I think you are too hard on yourself. You set your standards too high... to the point, I roll my eyes. Maybe, you should tell yourself: I am good... so good, that you will beg me to stop."
It is me who is rolling my eyes now. But he has got a point.
Anyway, I should be thankful.
Thankful that 80% of my students know their stuff, even though their tempos might be unsteady and they still pause every now and then to catch up. Thankful for their willingness (and grace) to bear with the hard work, the difficulties, the naggings. Thankful that the remaining 20% haven't given up yet. Thankful that there are still 4 days left for these to get their act together. God, thank You.
So when it was time to say goodbye to my littlest student today, I told her, "R, I am proud of you. No matter how you play on that day, I will still be very proud of you."
Her beam gladdened my heart.
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