Being Mom @ Christmas

It has been an intense 5 days for me.

Let's see...

Having packed up a busy month in my work year, we went away for a family trip during my Christmas break.

Traveling with a toddler can be nice and interesting but also very stressful. I think it's because I am such an anxious perfectionist. It doesn't help when your hubby is a perfectionist too in many other ways. And the toddler... is at the age of mini tantrums, battles of independence, picky eating, repetitive questions, and parental preference. ("Go away, daddy!" is the most heard phrase, I think.)

Toddler fell sick on the first day of our trip. When she's sick, she's fussy... about who wipes her nose (it has to be mummy), the kind of material we use to wipe her nose (it has to be wet wipes), the texture of her food (she spat a lot during meal times), the height of her pillow, her naps, her medicines, etc. Which made traveling even more stressful than usual. I was so worried that our hotel neighbours would complain at the noise emanating from our room, especially when it was time for Sophie to take her medicine. From her cries to our threats and bribes - we must have been audible from miles away.

We met up with my side of the family and spent Christmas with them in KL. Lovely, but I felt bad for having to chase my sister out of our hotel every night so that I could wind down. Recharging was challenging in our tiny (budget) hotel room. (At least, the hotel at Cameron's was better. We just had to pay lots more!) Washing milk bottles took forever in that tiny bathroom sink, there was no refrigerator to cool down my Coke Zero, the one and only ceiling-mounted (rainfall) shower was determined to test my water-resistance whenever I had to clean up my toddler, and the lighting was awkward so that the room was either too dark or bright. Well, I suppose that it could have been worse. I was however very thankful that my dad and sister entertained my active, inquisitive, and talkative toddler so well. She sure looked forward to spending time with them every day.

A Coxsackie epidemic broke out amongst the kids at Sophie's soon-to-be playschool and daycare. I am currently in a dilemma. Should I send Sophie, who's recovering from her flu, to school on the 3rd of January? (Edit: After discussing the situation with her principal, we are postponing her first day to February. Phew!)

I fell sick on our last day in KL. Caught Sophie's flu, I suppose. I return to work today with the dripping faucet of a nose. Of Rudolph.

Etc.

Those 5 days were a microcosm of motherhood for me. Motherhood is full of intense moments that drive me to my knees in desperation. They say that a motherhood is a blessing. I do not disagree, especially having had a miscarriage some years ago. Motherhood is a blessing indeed. But its daily costs are great. One often denies her privacy, her solitude, her dignity, her dreams, her career, her reputation, and even her health for the sake of her children. (Just think sleep.) If one continues to ask "What's in it for me?" she will be more likely than not disappointed. Sometimes, you even regret during fleeting moments of self-pity that you embarked on this journey. Even more so when you realise how inadequate you are to wear this hat. Christmas 2016 reminded me of why motherhood is yet a blessing. Consider Mary's Magnificat in the Advent passage of Luke 1:46-55 (NASB):

46 And Mary said:

“My soul exalts the Lord,
47 And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.
48 “For He has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave;
For behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed.
49 “For the Mighty One has done great things for me;
And holy is His name.
50 “And His mercy is upon generation after generation
Toward those who fear Him.
51 “He has done mighty deeds with His arm;
He has scattered those who were proud in the thoughts of their heart.
52 “He has brought down rulers from their thrones,
And has exalted those who were humble.
53 “He has filled the hungry with good things;
And sent away the rich empty-handed.
54 “He has given help to Israel His servant,
In remembrance of His mercy,
55 As He spoke to our fathers,
To Abraham and his descendants forever.”

Motherhood is a blessing because "God has..."

Note how many times this particular phrase is repeated throughout Mary's praise for God. She underscored God's mercy in granting her the favour of (virginal) conception. She would deny her self in accepting God's call and face potential humiliation, grief, and pain. But being able to taste God's mercy was a much greater thing. God's mercy was not only for herself, the humble bondslave (v.48) - but also for the future generations who would fear Him (v.50), the humble and hungry (vv.52-53), and Abraham's descendants who had the promise of a Messiah (v.55). Of course, it's difficult for most of us to relate to the favour Mary received because there was only one Jesus Christ. Yet in similar vein, mothers can take comfort in the fact that our God-given mission is a blessing. It is a blessing because God has... shown mercy.

God's mercy is for the mother who conceives (or adopts) and offers the fullness of her gifts in service of Christ as well as the future generation(s) her children belong to.

God's mercy is for the imperfect, inadequate mother who messes up often and badly... whom He yet chose to mother the souls He entrusted to her care.

God's mercy is for the undeserving, unworthy woman - lovingly respecting her need for the meaningful bond that can only be formed with her child and her need to nurture. Yes, scientists debate on whether "maternal instincts" are due to genetic hardwiring or learned gender behaviours; but my daughter's inclination to baby her stuffed animals even while she engages in sporty activities and plays many boyish toys suggests to me that a majority of women are wired (at least emotionally) to be maternal. Please feel free to disagree.

God's mercy is for the struggling mother, the depressed mother, the exasperated mother, the sacrificial mother, the sleep-deprived mother, the single mother, the sickly mother, the I-have-no-time-to-shower mother, etc. Those who trust Him will taste and see that He is good - yesterday, today and forevermore.

God's mercy is for the society her children will enter having been raised in a home that values love, joy, and peace. Being the emotional backbone of the family, the mother empathises in ways the father often can't. Her emotional responsiveness (tears and laughter), availability and dependability enable her children to grow up into adults who likewise empathise, express, manage their own emotions, build relationships, and keep them.

God's mercy is for the generation her children will lead... for the nation(s) they will build, rebuild and disciple. One of the greatest legacies a mother can pass down to her children is the passion of prayer. It is in praying that a child knows God, His gospel, His miracles, and His heartbeat for the nation.

God's mercy is for the harvest field her children will work in (Lk. 10:2), for the earth they will salt, and for the world they will light.

God's mercy is for the community and workforce graced by the presence of mothers. Having been a music teacher for many years now, I must say that motherhood made me a gentler, wiser, more sensitive, and more nurturing teacher somehow.

God's mercy is when "from the mouths of infants and nursing babes You have established strength... to make the enemy and revengeful cease" (Ps. 8:2).


And so, dear mother, take heart and rejoice. For God has shown mercy.

The other side of the island

Around this time last year, I blogged about the five blessings that made my year (2015) worth remembering.

It's again, ten days to the end of the year. Has it been a better year, like I hoped in this post?

How do you define "better" anyway? (What was I thinking?) More happiness, less troubles, less emotional exhaustion? I am not sure if my year 2016 was any "better" in that sense. However, something in me has changed. I used to cry out to God to take me Home (while I slept in the night) because I couldn't stand living anymore - and I didn't feel like I mattered that much to anybody. Life would go on without me and perhaps, for certain people, life would be even better. That was the way I was. I realise now, a year later, that I have stopped praying such prayers. Not because God didn't answer them, but because He already did.

He didn't take me Home, of course. No, not yet. But He showed me how hungry I unknowingly was (for the reassurance that He hadn't forsaken me) and filled me good things.

I am still on this other side of the island. I hated it when I moved here 2 years back - and I won't say that I am fond of it now. I miss my friends, the community that I belonged to, the air, the peace and quiet, the sea, the malls, and my freedom to make home home. It is very humbling to live with my in-laws too - in so many ways. However, moving to this other side of the island also meant seeing God's glory shine upon the backdrop of mundane things, the seeming directionlessness, my languishing will to live, and near-mid-life crisis.

And I changed.

The psalmist says that "He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul; He guides in me the paths of righteousness for His name's sake" (Ps. 23:1-3). I think we often think of sheep as passive, dumb, and peaceful followers of the shepherd. How hard can a shepherd's job be? But would God raise a king out of a shepherd boy if his job had been that simple? Some basic facts about sheep that I gleaned from a lifestock management blog today:

1. Sheep run away from perceived danger.
2. Sheep follow other sheep and conform because they find security in numbers.
3. Sheep find it hard to trust.

For a sheep to not run away from perceived danger, to not merely follow the crowd, to let itself be led and to trust the guidance of the Shepherd in an unfamiliar path, it has to see the Shepherd as a friend who has its best interest at heart. A less-than-fully-committed Shepherd would soon lose its sheep. The psalmist both implies that God is fully committed to shepherding and that he is therefore committed to obeying His lead, despite the temptations to go astray. He believes in God's care - that he will lack nothing. Furthermore, goodness and lovingkindness will follow him all the days of his life (Ps. 23:6). There is a sort of boldness in the psalmist's words that I truly admired all these while. It took a move into an uncomfortable zone to show me that the words of the psalmist could be mine too.

If God has shown Himself time after time to be a Friend - a committed one too - why shouldn't I lie down in the pasture He has brought me to? Why should I look down at the waters of sustenance? Or disdain the path because it is rocky, mundane, and seemingly hopeless? I was confronted with these questions at the beginning of the year. It dawned upon me that at the heart of my struggles was not my resentment and disappointment with my hubby's plan to move us in with his parents. Rather, I had allowed my unmet desires and broken dreams to shake my faith in God - that He loved me. The more I envied those who had what I wanted and couldn't have, the more unloved I felt. I let myself think He had conveniently abandoned me. But when I counted my blessings, I knew He hadn't. And doesn't. The cross has sealed the promise. 

So I decided to seize the days I would spend on this other side of the island. I began working out at the condo gym, took on more writing assignments, went on refreshing momcations (while I still had babysitting help from my in-laws), went back to work as a music teacher (my job was a miracle and the favour I continue to receive is a testimony of God's grace), made new friends and signed Sophie up for playschool among other things. God provided for us in ways we never imagined. I don't just hope that 2017 will be a "better" year. Rather, I am actually excited about 2017 because I can't wait to see how certain things unfold - particularly my ever-deepening work with the children, my music, Sophie's growth and development, my friendships, my prayer list, and so on.

We may never return to the other side of the island. I will continue to struggle in various areas and be emotionally exhausted. But I think I could live with these now.

The joy of the Lord is my strength.

Goodbye, 2016. 

The church creche

I must have written something about the church creche before. After all, we sit in there every Sunday.

And so, I find it necessary to write about it again.

To some, it is the most distracting place in the world. Toddlers who must release their pent-up energies (even more so when they are tired) walk around and can never seem to keep their voices down to a whisper... or drag chairs. Babies cry for attention right in the middle of a time of confession. Mothers (and fathers) go SSSSSSHHHHHH at regular intervals and make darting movements to snatch their little ones out of disasters waiting to happen - like hymnals waiting to be scribbled on with felt-tipped pens. Mine, the happy-go-lucky, often finds the environment conducive to do a number two during the sermon.

It is the most distracting place in the world to me indeed. (I blogged about it here.) It feels like the emergency department.

But Sophie said something yesterday that made me see the creche in a whole new light.

We were attending a guitar and drum performance a.k.a. pop music concert at the music school yesterday. I had to be there because I was part of the grand finale teachers' performance and they had asked Ben to be the event photographer. Naturally, Sophie had to come along (the grandparents are off babysitting duties on weekends). She enjoyed herself much but in the middle of all the crash, bang, and jam, she turned to me and said with a pleading voice loud enough to overcome the guitars and drums: "Mummy, I want to go to church today."

I had to reassure her, not once but twice, that we were still going to church in the evening after everything was over.

The church creche was still as distracting as before yesterday. But as I sat in there, I realised why Sophie wanted to be there of all places on a Sunday evening.

It is a plain and rather bare creche.

But it is where love (and ultimately God's love) is found.

As usual, she came to me for hugs and kisses every now and then. A reassuring hug after a fall. A bottle of milk. A biscuit. A change of diaper. Laptime. We rolled cars along the play mat. She flipped through the pages of a book while I listened to the sermon. She also scribbled in the church bulletin. More hugs and kisses. A gentle reminder from me not to drag chairs noisily across the floor. Some shushes. Aunty LC's baby cried and she comforted him. Sophie watched and ran back to me because she wanted her own mummy to hug and kiss her too. We walked to the glass door together during offering time so that she could slip some money into the offering bag. We sang hymns loudly along with the rest of the congregation outside. Finally, Sophie joined in the threefold amen. (No number two yesterday, thankfully.)

Our pastor always comes in to say hi to the creche-lings at the end of the service. I am grateful that she does.

We won't be in the creche forever. Someday, we will be out there, where Sophie will be expected to behave and participate in liturgy like a grown-up person. There will be no toys, no plastic chairs, and certainly no number twos during the sermon (if you can help it, thank you). But perhaps, it is time I appreciated the creche more. Because this is where Sophie learns about God and His people in an age-appropriate context. The God of the creche, the God whom we worship in the creche, the God who gives her parents weekly portions of gentleness, patience, self-control, and tact... is the God of Jesus Christ. The Creator, the Saviour, the mighty Redeemer. In His presence is fullness of joy, pleasures forevermore.

Reverence and love for God should be ingrained in one's heart before he/she worships outwardly with the rest. Only then, can worship be in spirit and in truth. I'm not saying that the creche is the only way - but having to sit in it with your kids must certainly be seen as a blessing and not a drag. I am learning that now.

Advent, Circus, and Such

Advent this year has been pretty special for me.

It's because I wanted it to be special.

The liturgical season of Advent zooms in on remembering, waiting and anticipating. We remember the surprise of the first Advent and we look forward to the second Advent of the Lord taking us by surprise again. That Baby in the Manger will return as the conquering, vindicating, eternal King... because there was a terrible cross. But not just a cross; there was Easter.

Advent exhorts us in our layovers, wherever we are.

Speaking of layovers, I thought about this while I was on a long, multi-city flight recently. I didn't choose a long layover because I like long layovers (contrary to what I jokingly shared with a friend recently). Rather, it meant a reduction in airfares to fit my skinnier-than-skinny momcation budget. Planning for the overnight layovers, I thought of all kinds of ways to make the hours fly by. Maybe, I'd read a book or two - I've always liked an overnight read. Then I'd sip a Starbucks' coffee in the wee hours of the morning. Walk around Changi's T1 transit area, window-shop at the bookshops, write post-cards, celebrate something, pray, enjoy the free wifi, Skype, eat a good breakfast the next morning, etc. I packed well for the layovers - including pantyliners galore. I must say in retrospect that I truly enjoyed my layovers, tiring as they were! Of course, I couldn't wait to arrive at my destination(s), but choosing to make the most of my layover and spice things up made all the difference to the waiting. Advent is rather like the treats I planned for my layover in the sense that it refreshes us to wait patiently while we wait.

As we carry our crosses on our personal death marches - not merely the day-to-day human burdens and sufferings but the commitment to make the sacrifices any true disciple must make in a world that rejects Christ - we wait, as His Easter people.

We wait because every today passes into a tomorrow. And the great, unending Tomorrow will come when "He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away" (Rev. 21:4).

We can only imagine for now. Which is why it's important that we observe Advent. At the end of a year so full of ups and downs, Advent keeps our vision clear, our priorities straight, and our joy full. We reflect: If Christ will come again, how should we live our lives in the year ahead? How should we simplify life, minimise the distractions, own less, give more, and see potential in our burdens? If Christ will come again, how should His great commission (of making disciples) take a front-er seat in our lives so concerned with living in the world? If Christ will come again, could we be comforted as we mourn and weep in grief? We pause to celebrate: We bless others, deck the halls, carol, savour time with our families, dress up, etc. New Year comes and we are given a foretaste of the Beginning of all new beginnings.

My Advent this year took off in Taiwan. As you'd probably gather now, it was pretty special because amidst all the traveling (and overnight layovers at Changi Airport), I had all the time in the world (for once) to pray and meditate on God's goodness. And now that I'm back, I have been all for making the season special for Sophie. My hope is that she would always look forward to Advent (and Christmas) and that all the family celebrations would leave her a legacy of treasured memories which become sacramental when she's grown-up enough to understand the Biblical significance of Advent.

It's all good, innocent fun with the family. Nothing overly religious. I am one of those moms who are absolutely serious about our Christian faiths, I assure you, but I am also realistic at the same time. S is a tod after all. (If you're wondering, yes, we talk about Jesus and pray at bedtime on a daily basis - these we don't just do during Advent.)

First, I let her delight in Christmas trees. They are everywhere, dashing and dazzling. We even have a mini one in our home. Sophie decorated it with her toys (we don't have proper ornaments). Very authentic.

Secondly, while the Queensbay Mall is out to wow shoppers with their whimsical Christmas decorations and holiday favourites, we discovered a train making its rounds in the central atrium which you could ride for a fare. Sophie was so happy, riding it with mummy (the sharp turns gave me motion-sickness though; I must be getting old) during a mom-daughter date. I was happy to see her so happy.

Thirdly, we watched a stunt circus the other night. Acrobats, trapeze artists, jugglers, hoop dancers and rope dancers dazzled us with their smiles - and stunts. As it was Sophie's first time experiencing acrobatics, she was spellbound throughout the entire session. (We had to give her fish keropok at regular intervals to keep her from doing her own stunts and getting into trouble!)

Finally, we will be spending two nights away as a family in Cameron Highlands and another two nights in KL during the Christmas week.

I hope that you are having a meaningful Advent yourselves!

G A B R I E L

There are times when I feel like I suck as a pianist. And because of that, I must suck as a piano teacher. Last week was one of those times. 

It's hard to describe why I felt that way. There were many contributing factors on which I find unnecessary to elaborate here, but perhaps, the year end school concert provided the context for my meltdown. I was stressed because some of my students were rather nervous about performing (which made me nervous too, haha), which couldn't be helped, I suppose. But there was a part of me that connected their increasingly cold feet to my inadequacies as a teacher (of course in the retrospect, I feel silly) and musician. Is it because I have failed to prepare them well? Or is it because my expectations are impossibly high and have crippled them? Have I been too hard on them? Or too lenient? Some other unfounded fears crept in too. What if, the adjudicator decides that my students lack something because I haven't taught them well enough? Perhaps, I haven't emphasized a particular technique, a performance skill, or something else that even I am unaware about. Perhaps, I am mediocre. Pianist. Teacher. Everything. 

I was miserable. Disillusioned. Discouraged.

The concert day arrived. The students of mine who were participating did their very best and I was thankful even though some made minor mistakes (no) thanks to nerves. No big deal. I was (and still am) very proud of them!

The certificate (of participation) presentation ceremony was followed by awards for the top three performers of the day. It felt like a hug from God when the name of one of my students, Gabriel, was called. 

After all, Gabriel means "God is my Strength". What a timely, prophetic reminder:

The God who has been my strength will always be my strength - and so, I can do all things, the things He has prepared for me to do. He makes me adequate even where I'm not. His grace is sufficient for me; His power is perfected in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). This was the message for me that day. 

To God be the glory. 

Divine appointments

Eve of Christmas eve.

Had coffee with a friend at the mall this afternoon. Apparently, something I said turned out to be a much needed bit of affirmation for her (from God) with regard to a major, life-changing decision she had been praying about the whole of Advent. Phew. What a privilege!

And then I was blessed with the opportunity to bump into the very person that I have wanted to bump into for some weeks now. Yes, I actually prayed that God would let this person appear somehow... so that I could be certain that I had not been an offense to him (and that this person would forgive me if I had offended him with my words and actions during our last encounter). A case of too much introspection on my part? Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, God answered my prayer. While it was a little awkward at first, we ended up chatting about life. Our kids. Our careers. We moved toward the topic of Christianity because I had to divulge my theological training and work. And I got to share why there was no turning back for me after I'd believed in Jesus. (He is not a Christian although he would really like Jesus to speak to him.) While the R&B songs blaring in the background were a terrible distraction - I kept losing my train of thought while I spoke - I thank God that this person did listen and take an interest in what I said. It is also nice to have a new person to pray for.

One of the best afternoons of the year for me.

The final 10 days of Year 2015

Looking back, it has been a roller coaster of a year. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. I finish off the year nursing a flu which I think I caught from Sophie. Or perhaps, we caught the virus at the same time. It is certainly not your typical flu virus, otherwise our flu jabs would have covered it. It is Week 2 now, and our noses are still dripping like broken taps. Even after taking medicine. Woe.

Nevertheless, I thought I would list five things that made my year worth remembering. In no particular order of importance:

1. Friendship

Made a couple of new and good friends over the second half of the year, which is helping me greatly in my walk with Jesus, especially since I have dropped out of cell group (long story), disappeared from the seminary, and don't focus as well in church as I probably should. Yet. There is this particular couple with whom we (Ben and I) meet for dinner almost every week. While we don't discuss the Bible much during our weekly meet-ups simply because we have other agenda and too little time, it is wonderful to be so present in one another's Christian lives, ups and downs, excitements and mundanities. They are a blessing to our marriage. They even cook for us once in a while. And Sophie loves their daughter (read: dog). On the other hand, certain old friendships have graciously withstood the test of time and distance. I am deeply thankful for how these connect me to the parts of my past that made me so, so happy. Academics and music. When I am connected, I tend to weather hard times in the present with more joy, tenacity, and hope. And I have had many rough patches on a personal level this year too. Can't imagine how I would have fared without this handful of precious people who make it their business to keep in touch as much as I do.

2. Sophie

Of course, it goes without saying, that I am incredibly blessed by motherhood. But I was also struggling a lot this year with my fear of failure and low self-esteem. Spent way too much time grieving over the things that I couldn't change, my inadequacies when it came to meeting her needs, and the inconvenience motherhood poses with regard to my personal ambitions and space. (I have a long way to go towards being a selfless mom.) Particularly consoling was the heartfelt joy each time she reached a new milestone in becoming. Physically, emotionally, intellectually, socially, and spiritually. Of course, I didn't really take her milestones as indicators that I have been an awesome mom, but rather, God's awesomeness in meeting me where I was. And somehow making all things work together for good. Overall, 2015 was a much better year with regard to family life and weekends (no more weekend blues, unlike those in 2014). Ben, Sophie, and I go back to our first home, enjoy one another's company, and minimise the distractions that often keep us from doing so. We also made occasional trips back to KL, did a weekend staycation in May, and attended a wedding up in Cameron Highlands. I don't know if our weekends will always be this delightful, but I thank God that He has blessed us with many of such weekends this year to help especially the mummy of the family with her personal struggles. 

3. Proofreading a friend's PhD-dissertation-turned-into-a-book

This was really an honour for me - to be one of those who read the book before it was published as an academic book, as well as to be asked to help with it. I am such a small fry compared to the other people who journeyed with him in writing the dissertation. Well then, I didn't think that I would be such a nitpicker when it comes to grammar rules, missing words, spelling, and etc. to make no mention of spotting shortcomings so easily (I missed out one or two things, which my friend thankfully detected last minute). It was a lot of long sentences and footnotes to comb through. More than 200 pages of them. But I surpassed my own expectations - and even enjoyed doing it. A therapeutic experience that taught me lots and left open the possibility of me proofreading for extra pocket-money. And pocket money, I really do need.

4. Engaging in an entrepreneurial start-up 

First and foremost, I wouldn't have gotten involved if I hadn't been dragged (a little reluctantly) into it by my dear business partners. I serve mostly as the designer and publicity writer. It has got absolutely nothing to do with direct sales or multi level marketing... more to do with nation-building, education, and youth enrichment. Yups. It is so not me, but who knows, it might grow on me. Never try, never know. Might blog more about this in the coming year if it actually works out. Haha. (Sorry if that sounded a tad bit pessimistic.) Stay tuned. 

5. Writing (and Preaching)

Despite having taken an inevitable backseat in my involvement in church (weekend) activities and the music scene, these are what I have been up to most of my week day afternoons away from home as well as nightly after the toddler has gone to sleep : writing devotionals, crafting sermons, and thinking. Preached a couple of times too - at my own church and as a guest preacher/speaker in other churches. Little sister and dear friends came to watch me preaching once; that was very encouraging (albeit nerve-wrecking). Well then, I have yet much room to grow as a writer and speaker - and so, I pray that 2016 would bring me ample opportunities to grow.

Hope you had a good year past. Here is to an even better year ahead.

Weekend, a bout of toddler flu, and the countdown to Christmas

A truly delightful weekend, what with my sister and her boyfriend staying over in our home. I truly enjoyed their company. (They make such an entertaining couple somehow.) If only they had stayed a bit longer.

Sophie basked in the attention of Aunty Zoey and Uncle Sim of course. They were good for her. She was in a great mood. Ate and behaved pretty well whenever we went out for meals and such. Made no fuss when the adults continued to chill and chat long after our meals were over.

No weekend is complete without a special family outdoor activity that doesn't resemble week day activities - so we brought our guests to explore a new beach (at least to us) in the vicinity of our home. Not bad a beach - scenery and crowd - and its sand is really something. You will like the sand if you are in dire need of an intense foot scrub. Or a back scratch. Etc.  

Nice.

Sophie wanted to swim in the sea like "Peter and Jane". This was before she swallowed loads of salt water and got knocked over by a huge wave. 

Uncle Sim

Back to the other side of the island for the working week, Sophie was plagued by a viral flu. Sneezes, a running nose, nocturnal congestion, disrupted sleep, postnasal drip, coughing  - the works. This time, I wasn't too keen on drugless, natural remedies just because they take much longer to work, Sophie was in a lot of distress (she threw up a few times no thanks to the irritating phlegm and we had loads of laundry to do), and I am a little too tired and worn out. Haha. We brought her to a paediatrician who then prescribed us some medicine for her symptoms. At least they helped her (and us) to sleep well through the night - and she is a lot better today. Sleep is mother of all cures, I think. My take is this : do anything (within the lowest risk means) so that your toddler might shut down and sleep uninterruptedly. The body repairs and detoxifies while you aren't awake. And bouncing off walls.

Christmas arrives in less than 10 days time. Slightly more than a week in fact.

I think I must have mentioned before that I never did like the Christmas all that much. I always thought that it felt kind of depressing when you think Christmas songs in the mall, winter themed decorations when winter is so far away from the part of the globe I live in (sob), the guilty pressure to buy (and wrap) gifts when one is so broke at the end of the month and year (sorry if that sounds Scroogey), social gatherings, secret Santas, and year end. Or perhaps it has got nothing to do with any particular one of the mentioned elements per se - but simply the realisation that the year is coming to an end. And my perfectionistic regrets take centre stage. I regret that I have not achieved all that I wanted to achieve. I regret that the year did not turn out the way I wanted it to. (It never does, does it?) Believe it or not - I feel lonely. Loneliness lurks in the mind of the wanting person I am. And despite the so-called commercialisation of Christmas that emphasizes giving as well as receiving gifts - I know deep down inside that some much yearned for gifts might never be found under the Christmas tree.

What, I felt, helped me appreciate Christmas more this year was observing Advent as a mother.

First, observing Advent - meditating not just on "how" Jesus came to Earth (i.e. a virgin's baby in the manger) but also "why" He came - instead of just nose-diving into the year-end rush - makes December the 25th more purposeful and necessary. December the 25th was originally not Christian anyway. When the early Roman Church wanted to establish a day to commemorate Christ's birth, it timed it strategically to coincide with an existing pagan festival which celebrated the birthday of the sun god. This day was the winter solstice - the day with the least day light in the northern hemisphere - and so, we dream of a White Christmas. The original Roman reason for the season? Evangelising to the non-Christian masses. Converts wouldn't need to go without the jolly celebrations December the 25th used to imply : giving gifts, ceasing hostilities, suspending civic functions, and parties. They..... just had to focus on a different celebrity. Jesus Christ instead of the sun god! Now with Advent (which begins the 4th Sunday before Christmas) in place, Christmas Day - or December the 25th - becomes the conclusion of a season of slowing down. Slowing down to trace history, to be thankful of our own journeys of allowing Christ into our hearts, and to imagine what life could be when He returns for good. A season of Christian hope. I think then, rather than merely trying to put Christ in Christmas (which I honestly find quite hard to do most of the time), Advent helped me to acknowledge that Christ was never at Christmas in the first place... and it is OK not to feel particularly merry on December the 25th. However, December the 25th is the closure to the very first season of the Christian liturgical year. And so, I'll try to make the day count... before we move into "Ordinary Time". Advent is a season I would continue to observe for many years to come. As an individual as well as a family. Works in progress.

Secondly, seeing my toddler's wide-eyed wonder whenever we step into the mall (where Christmas decos and songs abound) makes me see the pagan festival in a different light. I don't mean that I'd like to celebrate Christmas the way the earliest people did. I mean, rather, that nearly the whole world observes Christmas day - and the love, fun, and warmth it brings. And so, why not make nice, magical childhood memories for my toddler out of innocent gingerbread houses, cinnamon cookies, balls, bells, stars on trees, stuffed snowmen, thoughtful presents, nolstalgic musical pieces, pretty sights, family time, giving to the poor, and Christmas cartoons? Yes, we must remember Christ's birth (and that's what Advent is for anyway) - but I guess we can't just Christianise Christmas and criticise those who intend to join the non-Christians in their good natured merry-making.

Perhaps Jesus who dined with the sinners and tax collectors would say "How do you do" to Santa Claus in the mall, tap his feet to "Jingle Bells", and pause to admire the works of art Christmas trees are nowadays. Just saying.

I don't mind if you don't agree with me on this. :)

Upside down (Part III)

This is a continuation of Upside down (Part II).

A favourite passage (of many, including yours truly) in Scripture through which the hope of glory threads as a main theme is Romans 8.

About Romans 8...

Romans 8 is said to be the grand finale within a section of the Epistle (chapters 5-8) in which the Gospel is confirmed to be the "power of God for salvation to everyone who believes". Of note, the Apostle Paul was familiar with suffering, having suffered intensely in his service to God. Historical and socio-cultural studies show that suffering was also a regular way of life for the Roman Church to whom this Epistle was directed. While "suffering" is not really the main theme of the Book of Romans, it forms the backdrop and takes centre-stage occasionally. It is therefore not surprising that Romans 8 should honour suffering as an important participant of the prior chapters. In fact, Romans 8 presents suffering as an indispensable element of the Christian life, indicating that suffering and glory are inseparable.

Basically, through Adam's sin, suffering came into the world.

But God sent us a Saviour.

Despite having believed in the Saviour, believers will still suffer the consequences of Adam's sin.

Now what?

Romans 8:18-30 reveals that suffering will not cease... but only until our full heavenly glory has been obtained.

So there is a difference between the sufferings of a believer and that of a non-believer.

The difference is the context in which such sufferings take place. A believer no longer suffers alone but with God. He suffers while the requirement of the Law is being fulfilled in him/her by the power of the Holy Spirit (8:4); while being indwelled by the Spirit of life (8:9-10); and with the hope of glorification alongside Christ beyond bodily death, confirmed by the witness of the Spirit of adoption (8:11, 16-17).

In other words, the hope of glory possessed by one who lives by the Spirit transforms such sufferings from vain to meaningful. From disgraceful to purposeful.

Furthermore, suffering ceases to be an end in itself. Rather, it becomes the necessary way to glory for God's sons and daughters (8:17).

We have a problem here though.... Does this mean that the more one participates or relates to Christ's sufferings, the more glory one is entitled to share at the end? After all, the distribution and degree of suffering across humanity appear to be entirely random; wouldn't it be unfair for Christians who have been subjected to less or comparably bearable sufferings, with regard to glorification? This must have been the argument of the ascetics among the early Church, who saw suffering to be something sought for themselves.

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Romans 8:18 demystifies us regarding the argument of the ascetics and keeps us from obliging to such extremes especially if they are not our cup of tea : the glory that awaits God's sons far outweighs that of the sum total of our present suffering. The degree of our suffering is in fact insignificant in comparison with our future glory.

How exactly then does our suffering prepare us for that glory?

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First, suffering transforms Christians into the likeness of Christ by fruiting perseverance, a character that produces even more hope (8:22, 23, 25). We have "money makes money". We can also make hope from hope.

Secondly, suffering relates Christians to the whole Creation as well as God Himself through groans (8:19-22, 26). Of note, Paul mentions three kind of groans - Creation, sons, Spirit - in an order that escalates tension in his readers as the scope of dominion widens. While it is true that only the Spirit's groans have a purpose (divine intercession) - obviously the rest of the groans are travailing ones - it would be too narrow a view to see the Spirit's groans as entirely different from the other groans pertaining to its nature, as some commentators suggest. As intercession requires one to identify with, and thus, plead on behalf of another, the Spirit's groans may be much closer in nature to the groans of a travailing Creation and humanity than we think. In light of this view, perhaps then, the Spirit's groans should be seen as God uniting Himself with His sons (and daughters) to hope while He acts. God groans and hopes with us.

Thirdly, suffering assures Christians of the glory to come when God makes all things work together for the good of those who are to be glorified (8:28). Witnessing God's miraculous work in our otherwise hopeless circumstances confirms to us that our hope is not in vain.

I like how the late John Stott, who uses the word "sanctification" to describe the above processes, sees suffering as God-intended means of grace while we await glory. And so, in short, suffering = God's grace to Christians while we wait. Suffering provides us the spiritual evidences that form the bases of our assurance. Suffering actually keeps us from falling away, if we truly embrace it as God's grace to us.

One part of Romans 8 seems to contradict this if read on its own though: 8:1-4 implies that it was the law of sin and death that rendered humanity incapable of glorifying God because they could not fulfill the righteous requirement of the Law; humanity therefore fell under God's condemnation which resulted in the universality and inescapability of death (cf. Rom 5:12) - as well as the suffering that followed the growing moral and social depravities that God gave humanity over to (cf. Rom 1:18-32). Suffering increased where God's glory lacked. Since there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ (8:1) - i.e. those who are now able to glorify God through the power of the Spirit - shouldn't suffering cease for Christians as well? It is no wonder that many Christians today join the chorus of those whose penchant for the prosperity gospel causes them to abhor suffering as the fruit of faithlessness. Romans 8:1-39 has to be interpreted as a whole.

Suffering is meant to be part of the right side up - while we are in the now-but-not-yet. Christ has died. Christ is risen. And Christ will come again.

May we contemplate on and wait for Christ's return with greater anticipation than ever this Advent.

Upside down (Part II)

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(I write this reflection as one who was neither born into a Christian household nor brought up in one.)

Why I am a Christian. This is a continuation from my previous post: Upside down (Part I)

There could be many reasons one chooses to make Jesus Christ his/her Lord and Saviour. But I think there can be only one ultimate reason. At least this is my ultimate reason: HOPE. Not just wishful thinking. Not just an intellectual acceptance that lacks the commitment of heart. Rather, the Christian hope is an assurance founded on evidence - historical and spiritual.

Therefore, I don't think faith should be defined as "believing against all odds", or "believing contrary to fact". Neither should it imply taking a blind leap despite our circumstances. I used to hold such views until the rosy pictures faded and life's trials got me questioning. For example, how much money should go into the offering bag to count as "faith" when I am broke? How should I counsel the friend who has been diagnosed with cancer and plans on forgoing medical care in the name of religious faith? How much spiritual hope can I squeeze out by willing myself fiercely to believe that "nothing is impossible" when it comes to prayer against an undesired outcome? Does such "faith" really please God?  

Biblical faith is simply... knowing the Christian hope based on evidence. Consequently, it is the conviction that spurs one to actions (cf. Hebrews 11:1) - which includes but is not limited to trusting God regardless of one's understanding of the circumstance (cf. Prov 3:5) or against all odds if you like. Biblical faith motivates actions based on our Spirit-led interpretation of Scripture (as well as prayer, circumstances, and human counsel) and yet, without obliterating or disregarding our human tendencies to misinterpret God's voice.

I digress.

The essence of a Christian's life is hope. To be Christian is to live with and by hope. The Christian hope is the hope of glory. (Romans 5:1-2)

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Whose glory?

God's glory. The Bible, for example in the Book of Romans, uses "glory" to express God's might and power revealed through Creation; the honour due God; God's resurrection process in those buried with Christ through baptism into His death; etc. Glory is portrayed as the opposite of mortality, corruption, and ruin - the captivities of those who fail to meet the righteous requirements of God and are therefore not in a right relationship with Him.

God's glory is also in the End of all ends, infinitely happier than the happily ever afters of fairy tales. The Eternal Christmas foreshadowed by our annual celebration of the joy, peace, love, and warmth that December 25th brings. We observe Advent to pause. And to rediscover the unquenchable light in our darkness. We look back to a time in the ancient world when God's people anticipated the birth of a Saviour. And then, we look forward to the return of the risen Saviour King. We will see Him face to face. We will have whole, restored bodies that will not fall sick - whole, restored souls that will not be so attracted to sin anymore.

How amazing it is that God's glory is also the reward for those who persevere in goodness!

For further reading on how suffering and glory are inseparable, here is the link to Upside down (Part III).

Upside down (Part I)

Some days ago, I told a friend that having a child turned my life upside down... and having waited for a year plus, I was beginning to get a little disillusioned that life wasn't turning the right side up yet.

She suggested that I would probably never turn the right side up. "Might as well get used to that view..." (I could so picture her giggling while texting me back from her end of the world.)

Oh great.

I thought of Billy Sunday, who once remarked: "The world is wrong side up. It needs to be turned upside down in order to be right side up."

So perhaps my life was the wrong side up all this while. Taking on God's divine assignment - wait, not the assignment per se but believing in Jesus and living for Him - turned my life upside down so that it could be the right side up. The upside down world is one filled with unmatched, utmost joy, and yet also, the deepest kind of sadness.

Grief. Pain. Distress. Internal conflicts. Tears. The hardships of being counter-cultural. Not a particularly easy view to get used to. In fact, it can be hard to think of it as the right view when the world offers all kinds of ways to avoid suffering too much - because it's supposedly bad to suffer. You must have offended the gods. Or think karma. The permanence or efficacy of the antidotes are questionable of course.

Why then embrace the suffering one is entitled to as a Christian... as something possibly good?

Why be a Christian? Why walk your life upside down?

To be continued in Upside down (Part II).

The Zoo, The Mundane, and Advent 2015

Hubby's company organised a family day event at Taiping Zoo last Saturday.

Armed with an adventurous zeal that braved the scorching sun, funky smells, and predictable public toilets (at least on my part) for Sophie's enrichment's sake - we decided to join in.

The sun was scorching hot. The zoo smelled of the animals' BO, manure, and other organic things. The public toilets were... as predicted. There were people everywhere - Ben's colleagues and their families. I wasn't too comfortable with having to greet people at every corner. And Sophie was cranky because we had scooped her out from bed unusually early that morning, nap time wasn't anytime soon, and she wasn't too happy about having to sit in her stroller while we walked through the length and breadth of Taiping Zoo. We did allow her to get out of her stroller once in a while, but the toddler hazards of the walkway conditions (uneven and bumpy tar roads, broken pavements, etc. - Malaysian tourism really needs to work on this, I think) and Sophie's secret plans to abandon us whenever we let our guards down made her stroller curfew rather necessary. Even so, hubs and I were soooo exhausted at the end of our trip that I've made up my mind to avoid zoos at all costs for at least a year. But who knows, right? When the adventurous zeal returns, we might be back all too soon. After all, I would love to take Sophie on a boat-ride at the Taiping Lake Gardens.

Still... I think that Sophie did enjoy being with us as much as we enjoyed being with her.

The giraffe that watched Sophie (and her muesli) with great interest for a while... till the zoo keeper brought its lunch.

Throughout our trip, I couldn't help wondering what it must feel like being one of the animals in the zoo. While I, being a high-maintenance urban dweller with posh tastes and a preference for inorganic, sterile environments (sounds sad), instinctively pitied the animals in their restrictive pens within a hot, funky-smelling zoo - there must be so much more to their kind of life than meets our senses. Thinking of it, can you imagine spending your life in a small, cramped, artificial version of your natural habitat - with zero privacy, few opportunities to run about freely or learn, and no hope of seeing your loved ones again? What happens to the animals when they aren't cute to look at anymore or old? What happens to the animals that eat trash thrown into their cages by insensitive zoo-goers who are more interested in circus shows than the welfare of the animals?

Food for thought.

I'm so sorry if I offend the zoo lovers. I believe you who are pro-zoos have your own good reasons to support zoos and you are welcome to do so. Even I am thankful for the opportunities that zoos have afforded us, visual learners, to get to know wild animals and love nature, especially when we were children.

It's just that.... the sight of huge animals pacing back and forth in their pens, no longer seeking a way out of the mundane, humdrum way of things simply because there was no way out, made me rather emotional.  

"Take me home... please?"

But zoos will continue to exist. With my daughter, I hope that I will be able to do my part (no matter how minuscule) in making the captivity of these beautiful creatures count. I don't only want her zoo experiences to entertain and wow her momentarily but to cultivate a love and concern for God's creations. To inspire her to be a responsible student, steward, and advocate of Earth's divine masterpieces.

Speaking of the mundane... and in light of our waiting on the Lord amidst our various trials...

I will end this increasingly emotional post (at least for me) with a short reflection on the season of Advent (which began on Sunday) that I wrote for a devotional:

"Matthew 1:1-17 – A Child Born in God’s Perfect Time

We begin our Advent reflections with Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus - three major divisions, each listing fourteen generations of human roots. It is interesting that the lists found in Matthew 1:1-17 don’t match those in Luke 3:23-38. Considering that Matthew’s gospel was written from a Jewish viewpoint for a Jewish audience who were familiar with Old Testament prophecy, many contend that Matthew’s unique genealogy must have served as a literary device to portray who Jesus, son of Joseph, was. Abraham’s journey of faith pointed to Jesus – the promised Saviour for all who believe. The line of David, who was the central kingly figure of the Old Testament, pointed to Jesus – the promised Messiah King. The five women honoured amongst Jesus’ ancestors were paragons of faith, if not virtue, ethnicity, or social rank; they point us to the requirement of entering Jesus’ gracious Kingdom. Yet, also significant in the genealogy is the mention of Jeconiah (vv.11-12) who was one of the last kings of the Davidic dynasty. As a result of his sins, Jeconiah’s male descendants had been disqualified from inheriting David’s throne (Jer 22:24-30). Matthew then could have also been implying this: had Jesus been the biological son of Joseph, He too would have been disqualified, and so He wasn’t. The story of Jesus’ conception by the Holy Spirit immediately following the genealogy highlights the necessity of Jesus being the divine Immanuel (meaning “God with man”) as well as human. God was made flesh in order to reclaim what Abraham’s descendants had lost through disobedience – and ultimately their potential to bring salvation to all nations. The Jews needed Jesus. We need Jesus.

During the next four weeks of Advent, we will anticipate Jesus’ second coming in light of His first coming as Imannuel. God was with us in the fullness of His time; God is with us today as we observe the holiness of the season in our daily lives; and God will be with us at the end of time. Blessed Advent!

Prayer:

Advent God, as we journey with You through the season, refresh the portrait of the Messiah King that is in our minds so that we may wait on Him with even greater joy, hope and expectation. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen." 

On a blogging hiatus and some updates

Oh wow. So I haven't been blogging for a week. On some kind of blogging hiatus, I am... what with Sophie recovering from a cold, my milk supply depleting fast (I have been pumping more frequently but it doesn't seem to help - maybe it's a bit too late), and my work taking up a huge chunk of my awake-and-free hours.

Having written 6 out of 7 articles for the Advent publication which I said I would write for, I decided that I will only blog Advent when it's Advent, in order to avoid confusion to those who go along with the liturgical calendar.

Well, like a dear friend said, Christmas comes early for me this year. Meditating and writing on the meaning of Christmas so early in the year is strange - but I appreciate it, especially while I am being tried in every sense of the word. Christmas is not just about reminiscing the crib in the manger, angels we have heard on high, and jubilant shepherds. Neither is it merely an affair of Christmas trees, giving presents, and singing carols. Rather, it points us toward a coming reality - when the Heavenly Christmas Celebrity returns to vindicate God's sons and daughters of whom He is the firstborn, no longer as the baby in the manger but a victorious warrior, glorious and exalted. In light of that eternal Christmas Day, we brave our storms, rejoice in our exile, and remember to love even when it is the hardest. People say that Christmas should be every day. I know what they mean, but I don't really agree. I honestly don't want every day of the year to be like the 25th of December (or Christmas Day would cease to be special). However, I would like my anticipation of Christmas to not only encompass the festivities and ambience but also something more eternal. I would like to anticipate less passively and more actively in the sense of rejoicing in the turmoils of life. It's really hard - and I am more down than up nowadays - but yeah. God help me.

Anyway, I am wondering if I should start a new blog where I would be able to blog more specifically about Sophie and motherhood. Or if I should continue with what I'm doing here on Woollylifestock. What do you think?

Christmas Eve 2014

Rejoice, Rejoice, Believers!

Words of Hymn: Ermuntert euch, ihr Frommen, Laurentius Laurenti (1660-1722), 1700

Translation: Sarah B. Findlater (1823-1907), Hymns from the Land of Luther, 1854.

Rejoice, rejoice, believers, and let your lights appear.
The evening is advancing, and darker night is near.
The Bridegroom is arising, and soon He draweth nigh.
Up, pray, and watch, and wrestle: At midnight comes the cry.

See that your lamps are burning; replenish them with oil.
And wait for your salvation, the end of earthly toil.
The watchers on the mountain proclaim the Bridegroom near.
Go meet Him as He cometh, with alleluias clear.

O wise and holy virgins, now raise your voices higher,
Until in songs of triumph ye meet the angel choir.
The marriage feast is waiting, the gates wide open stand;
Rise up, ye heirs of glory, the Bridegroom is at hand.

Our hope and expectation, O Jesus, now appear!
Arise, Thou sun so longed for, over this benighted sphere!
With hearts and hands uplifted, we plead, O Lord, to see
The day of earth’s redemption that brings us unto Thee.

Ye saints, who here in patience your cross and sufferings bore,
Shall live and reign forever, when sorrow is no more.
Around the throne of glory the Lamb ye shall behold;
In triumph cast before Him your diadems of gold!

Towards the end of 2014

What an eventful year it has been for me.

Having a baby, writing, teaching English and drawing 300+ illustrations for children devotional story-books took up the bulk of my attention, energy and time this year. Looking back, it was crazy - I don't know what made me so confident in the beginning that I would be able to juggle those along with my marriage, friendships and everything else. (A friend commented that I should learn to say no - and I couldn't agree more.) But hey, it looks like I didn't fare too badly, by the grace and help of God. Considering how horribly deep and dark some days were (post-partum depression really takes the cake), I am so thankful that He has yet enabled me to arrive at the end of 2014 with a sense of anticipation (a little timid, nevertheless present) - rather than purely tired cynicism, which I can be rather good at, unfortunately.

And indeed, 2014 has been a bittersweet year of journeying with Him. Of learning faithfulness and what it means to trust Him regardless of the crushing bleak, despair and loneliness that one might experience in a season of trial. Of tasting and seeing how good God is. How beautifully faithful the promise of Emmanuel...

Nevertheless......

It has still been... the craziest year ever. Having made a similar proclamation in 2007 (at the end of which I decided that since I hadn't gone mad then, I would probably never go mad for the rest of my life), I know that I might go through some more "craziest" years ever - but I am so thankful that this particular "craziest" year ever is over. Phew.

Four main things that I am especially grateful for this year, in no particular order of importance, are as follows:

1. Sophie - and the privilege of being her mom, inadequate as I may be.

2. My husband - and his dedication to supporting me (despite my mood swings and fickle-mindedness) and making life easier for me.

3. Friends - and the way their loving words, texts, provisions and actions help me through the most difficult of days. I couldn't have done without them. Fellow mothers, colleagues, seminary mates, close friends and such.

4. Family - and their care for us... new, inexperienced (and sleep-deprived) parents and baby.

Matthew 14:13-14 : He had compassion on them.

"Now when Jesus heard this (the beheading of John the Baptist), He withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by Himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed Him on foot from the towns. When He went ashore He saw a great crowd, and He had compassion on them and healed their sick...."

(Matthew 14:13-14)

Possibly, a time of personal mourning cut short by the demands of ministry.

I don't think that this verse should be used at all costs to back up the claim that all Christians should get involved with some sort of ministry (church- or non-church based) even while we are dealing with grief, bereavement, burnout, illnesses ... or other major life stressors. While some are able to compartmentalize their lives and continue working the fields (I am certainly not always able), it is all right to want to take some time off to retreat, receive care, grieve, recuperate and deal with any emotional baggage that we may carry from trauma. Jesus Himself withdrew to grieve over the death of His cousin.

Rather, I was drawn to the phrase "He had compassion on them...."

Compassion. Such a beautiful word! He didn't have to, but He wanted to. His motivation to reach out to the people of the crowd was driven by His sorrow over their suffering and a sincere desire to relieve their pain... rather than a sense of obligation to be necessary and relevant to the consuming world regardless of His own needs. Empowered by love, Jesus laid aside His right to mourn in order that the sick could be healed that day. Love was not merely His obligation. Love was who Jesus was (and is).

Jesus was in fact, to be the expression of God's love for the world - the Gift - while we were yet sinners (cf. John 3:16, Romans 5:8).

If Jesus is love, what does it mean for us to grow in Christlikeness?

Perhaps then, the focus for us, Christians, should not be on how much we can grow in loving and giving... but how much we can grow in being Love itself - God's gift(s) to the world. Christlikeness is essentially not about doing - and forcing ourselves into a "good" mould. It is not about striving to be who we are not. It is instead about being - becoming the men and women God has intended us to be, as we yield to the Spirit, whose gracious presence and workings evidence God's love for us.  We love and give because we were first loved and given... and thus, formed into signs and instruments of God's love to an unknowing, cynical world.

This is my desire... to be formed into an instrument of God's love. As an instrument, say a violin, cannot be fulfilled unless it is fiddled - let me not be fulfilled unless I love, even the tiniest bit. And fret not, I shall grow in loving naturally, as I open myself up more and more to receive Christ - to be flooded with the light of God's redeeming love - in every nook and cranny of life.

Indeed, Emmanuel... God is still with us in our failings as well as our sufferings; Christ still has compassion on us today and helps us.

And we, fellow heirs with Him, cannot help but grow in sorrow for the great crowd before us.