Recital Over

We are all so relieved. Students and teachers.

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.

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.

Saturday nights and Sunday mornings

I work a full day on Saturdays.

My first class begins at 9am. My final class concludes at 6.15pm. Lunch break is at 2.15pm for an hour (or less).

Saturdays are when many Teacher-I-had-no-time-to-practise-the-whole-week students struggle with the aforementioned Teacher. They find her very naggy, unsympathetic, rigid, and utterly resentful to be back in square one after a whole week. And they persist in coming for classes.

In other words, Saturday is the craziest day of my work week - in terms of nature, duration, patience required, and the challenges encountered. When I am feeling particularly positive, I relate to the Israelites gathering manna on the 6th day. "Now on the sixth day, they gathered twice as much bread, two omers for each one..." (Exod. 16:22) Twice as much work done, but twice as much blessings to last me till Monday. However, more often than not, I am not that positive. If I am perfectly honest, I'd say that my motivation to endure the first half of the day is eating lunch... and the second half, eating curry mee at dinner (that's my comfort food). I'm not as angelic a teacher as you think!

As you can probably imagine, I am knackered every Saturday evening. I am so freaking exhausted - physically, emotionally, mentally, etc. - that sleep just doesn't relieve the exhaustion fully, although I savour it. One can never have enough of sleep, I think.

I am always grouchy when I wake up on Sunday mornings. I am wondering what I could do about it.

Sophie's diaries : The forgiveness of a child

I got back late from work tonight. Every Tuesday night. Period.

Honestly, I don't like working past 6pm... but I do, twice a week, just to suit that handful of students who just can't make it on any other day or at any other time thanks to their ludicrously packed weekly schedules (I am thankful that they are good students though).

Anyway.  

It was near my toddler's bedtime. She was getting all kiasu, bossy and cranky. We tried to read; she was angry when her dad read the words on the page before she could. And then, I had to brush her teeth. All hell broke loose. There was the sound of her cries, my exasperated "say AHHHHH"s or "say EEEEEEEE"s, more crying... and then her dad tried to be helpful but got in my way, resulting in my scolding voice rising above the din. Etcetera. There you go, very dramatic.

In the end, it was a very miserable (and tired) little girl who buried her face into my shoulder during bedtime prayer. The weight of remorse and guilt bore down on me much more than that of my daughter as I carried her, pacing the room.

I knew that I had to apologise somehow. And I did. I told her that I loved her.

"Will you please forgive mummy?"

She nodded.

No words can express how beautiful a child's forgiveness is. In it, there is no malice, no secret grudge, and no pretense.

"Are you happy now?"

Thanks to my busy schedule on my side of the island, I've had no choice but to stop teaching on the other side.

A particular 11-year-old (well, the only one actually) was very sad about losing her piano teacher, and despite my efforts to find her a suitable replacement, wouldn't give up hoping that I would change my mind. Her dad even asked if he could send her to my side of the island - on which I wasn't too keen because my home piano isn't a very good one to teach on. In the end, impressed by her persistence and encouraged by her enthusiasm, I decided to go the extra mile (literally) just for her. 

When I appeared at her doorstep this afternoon, she leapt up in glee. Later, her mom asked, "So... are you happy now?"

I was so blessed that she said yes. 

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. 

Back from a Momcation

Taiwan.

It was definitely one of the highlights of my 2016. Not that I like spending time away from family that much (it can be pretty hard to let go and many were shocked that I was actually going to spend so many nights away from Sophie) - but I've found that it's essential that I do it every now and then - for me. Sounds selfish perhaps, but it makes me a much better wife and mother I must say. I read, prayed, took pictures, ate, slept, toured, met fellow missionaries and had heart-to-heart talks with my best friends. It was so therapeutic! Meanwhile, Sophie and I kept in touch via Skype (I missed her dearly and I am sure she missed me too even though she didn't want to fess up that she did). She also spent loads of time with her daddy and even visited my colleagues at my workplace while I was gone!

They let her watch Peppa Pig and eat curly fries at the front desk! Even I don't get to do that.

Why Taiwan? Well, a close friend of mine, Ji was thinking of visiting Taiwan at the very end of November. Since that coincided nicely with my teacher's term break, and she asked if I would like to come along, to which I said YES! Another dear friend of ours, Jia who currently resides in Taipei jumped with joy and said that we could stay with her family (they were the best hosts ever) - and we were all set to go! While I balked at the price of air tickets initially, I was glad that I put my mustard seed faith in the Lord to provide for the trip because I can't imagine now what it would have been like if I had missed out on it.

Throughout the trip, I was reminded of the big picture of my being and doing, especially now that I am often too caught up with tasks of motherhood and teaching which take up the bulk of my busy sleep-deprived life. All I am and have come from God and the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. All I do should then be worship unto Him, serving a much bigger mission than my personal ambitions. In other words, I should not work hard as a mother because I covet my child's affections. Or so that she would look after me when I am old! Rather, I work hard so that I can present my child to her Maker as a disciple (and discipler) after His own heart. Likewise, I should not work hard as a teacher only because it puts a little more food on our table. Rather, I work hard so that I can ultimately participate in God's redemption of music appreciation in our community. Music was meant to heal... and cultivate empathy among its makers and listeners, as well as mindfulness for God. It is a context for missions. Furthermore, music maketh a nation... only because it first maketh a man. And every such man (and woman) was a child under the tutelage of a music teacher. If you put that way, music teachers have a great role to play in nation building!

But I digress. We'll save all that talk about music and teaching music for another day.

Back to my Taiwan trip...

Taipei is an interesting city to visit.

Parts of it are bustling with rat races so common to developed nations and the vehicles on the road threaten to bulldoze you if you are in their way (zebra crossings are none of their business), but most of the Taiwanese remain courteous and helpful - at least to the tourists. Having visited Singapore and Hong Kong earlier this year... and having gotten accustomed to the tangible impatience of the city folk, Taipei was refreshing. I'm not sure about living there permanently though. While any Taiwanese would hesitate to be known as "Chinese" due to the political differences between Taiwan and the People's Republic of China (PRC) - and Western and Japanese trends are in vogue - Taiwan is obviously yet a centre of Chinese culture. I am of course referring to the language, customs, beliefs, arts, architecture, worldview, cuisine, the people's appreciation of jade and crystals, Buddhist influences, etc. (I apologise in advance if this offends anyone.) A week of immersing in all-things-Chinese and exploring was good for the soul, but the banana a.k.a. Westernised Chinese in me was rather glad to return to my side of the world at the end of the week. It was a relief to stop being illiterate... to speak and think in English, among other things.

What I enjoyed most (besides spending time with my friends) was the Taiwanese countryside - verdant scenic views, fertile plains, riverbanks, laidback towns, peace and quiet. Ji's friends brought us to visit the county of Yilan well-known for its diverse aboriginal villages, hot springs, historical buildings and scallion pancakes. We also spent our last day at Danshui, a nostalgic (and romantic) seaside town where an international port thrived in the 1860s.

Would I go back to Taiwan again? Yes. This, being my third (and certainly not the last) time in Taiwan as tourist, was the best and the brightest. It goes to show that the more you get to know Taiwan, the more you'll fall in love with it. 

Definitely, Sophie goes with me the next time. Looking at all the beautiful scenery just made me miss her even more.

Writing for Lent 2017 over

Less than a month ago, I was asked to be part of a team project requiring me to write for an annual Lent publication for the English Methodist convention. (And so, Lent 2017 came early for me.) Since I have written a few times in the past few years, I thought... hey, no problem! After I said yes to the delightful assignment, I realised that perhaps, I had overestimated my commitment juggling skills. I had forgotten about my music teacher job... and how much it occupies my days like never before - planning, teaching, reevaluating lesson plans, preparing students for the year-end piano concert, learning myself, and practising the piano. Also, I will be traveling around the time my 8 essays are due. Eeeks.

Thus began 2 weeks of frantic I'd-better-begin-this-early-or-I'll-be-in-big-trouble work. It was my job and Sophie that occupied me during the days and my essays in the nights. Exhausting, but well worth it. How satisfying it was to return to this part of my mission on Earth; I could certainly feel God's pleasure while I wrestled away with the sentences and words. How wonderful it is that I finished well before the deadline too - and even had a week to edit my drafts! God be praised.

I, of course, had the best prayer warriors joining me on my writing adventure - including my daughter! To all who prayed, thank you!

A student's disbelief

"Um... but teacher, aren't we ending a little too early?"

Early when we are 15 minutes overtime? You make your teacher very happy. Thank you very much.

I could hardly hide a grin.

Music history

One of the things I love most about teaching music is helping my students to find gems of inspiration from the biographies of classical composers (of Western classical music). I tend to insert intriguing snippets of the aforementioned into my lessons. Simple commentaries, weird facts, quotes, etc. The pieces then don't seem so irrelevant when you can put a life story to their composers' names. The composers are after all, human. They were once little boys (and little girls) with quirks and dreams. My students (and I) can so relate to them.

The composers made history. Some set the course for musical development in their era. And then the ones who broke rules changed the future of music - Beethoven, Liszt, Stravinsky, Schoenberg, Cage, Glass, etc. Remembering and studying their journeys help us appreciate the things we often take for granted (or despise) in music education, such as theory of music. Music history is much more than a list of dead composers. It ultimately deepens our enjoyment of classical music, jazz, blues, KPop, R&B, Folk, etc. because we understand that they are products of evolving pursuits... that men and women have always broken out of the moulds to reconcile with their creative inspirations... and that HOPE in an unpredictable world lies in our ability to exercise the last of our human freedoms even if everything else was taken away i.e. "to choose one's attitude in any set of given circumstances, to choose one's own way..." (as per Viktor Frankl) ~ If Beethoven, for example, had allowed his hearing impairment to crush him instead of spurring him toward greater heights, history would have been different. Perhaps, music as we know it wouldn't be the same. Say, jazz. Jazz, after all, arose in the blending of African rhythm, European harmony and form, improvisation, and the freelance musician culture of which Beethoven could be seen as one of the forerunners unlike earlier composers who served in the Church or Court.

Understanding, we then make informed decisions on how we want to play our pieces.

Teacher's audit over

Thank God, it's over!

I passed despite messing up on my pieces out of sheer nervousness. Ugh. It's humbling when I think about it because then I know that it was God who made sure that I pass despite my unimpressive performance. (If I were the examiner, I would have totally failed me, and it's not because I am being too hard on myself.)

I think I might use beta blockers the next time I sit for a music exam though.

My examiner looked at me kindly at the very end and commented, "Surely you've been through worse moments than this in med school?"

"Yes," I said thoughtfully. "But med school was so long ago..."

We proceeded to chat about church work, because it turned out that she's a Christian too.

Anyway, the audit is done and dusted. I celebrated in the evening by going out with the hubs and Sophie for Japanese food and ice-cream.

To those who prayed for me, helped me with my pieces, and believed in me ~ thank you.

Success and prosperity? Joshua 1:6-9: A reflection.

I was reading Joshua 1 today, and this part of God's commissioning of Joshua really struck me:

"Be strong and courageous, for you shall give this people possession of the land which I swore to their fathers to give them. Only be strong and very courageous; be careful to do according to the law which Moses My servant commanded you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, so that you may have success wherever you go. This book of the law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that it written in it; for then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have success. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go." (Josh 1:6-9)

While I am about to sit for an exam related to my work, this passage both warns and encourages me about the tremendous challenges I face - far beyond my abilities and skills. Three times, God told Joshua (who was obviously fearful and overwhelmed by the hugeness of God's assignment as well as the weight of his new mantle of leadership) to be strong and courageous, because (1) the land was just waiting to be possessed (God had promised his forefathers that it would be theirs, somehow); (2) obeying God's law guaranteed Israel success and prosperity; and (3) YHWH who had delivered them from Egypt was going with them - victory would be supernatural and not dependent on their natural strengths. Likewise, in my situation, the way to success and effective Christian witness should not be by merely attempting to mingle with giants in their fortified cities - so to speak - and conform to their methods, strategies, and agendas out of pressure. Rather, it is by remembering God's calling, standing on God's promises, living according to God's words which are to be chewed on constantly and vigilantly, and trusting in God's presence. He who has delivered me this far will yet deliver and establish me, even when I don't know how.

A few days ago, somebody reviewed my CV and commented, "You were supposed to be a doctor? What a waste!" I was initially very discouraged - and there's of course no way to explain to a non-believer why I ended up in a theological seminary, and now, a music school - but then I was reminded: what so wasteful about being a music teacher with a medical degree? Teachers are to nurture lives as much as doctors do, if not more. Teachers are the facilitators of growth and becoming. I don't see how doctors could be more superior. If I taught with great understanding of pain, wouldn't that be even better?

Haha, oh well.

Teacher's audit

Where I work, they allowed me to work prior to auditioning. My CV looked fine, I have the qualifications (and experience), the job interview went well, yada yada yada...

But the funny thing is this... I would still have to audition with the school's headquarters (which is in Selangor) even after starting work. Hehe. I wouldn't know what would become of me if I failed right? So failing is not an option if I want to keep my job. (Do I?) The audition is a mini exam that consists of performance of 2 pieces from different periods in music history, sight reading, singing, improvisation, and an interview. All who want to teach must be auditioned.

My audition, we found out last week, is in July.

With so little time to prepare, I am really nervous. And stressed. While my mentor kept saying that I should pass, no problem, I was still not convinced. Eventually she said, "You don't trust me?"

I laughed and said, "I just don't trust myself." (And I don't really want to let her down. Her and all others who believe in me.)

We both sighed.

Well then, I have been practising more piano in the past week than I have for the past two years, I think. God help me!

Sophie's diaries : 2 years 1 month

Look at that cheeky smile! (I mean hers.)

Yups. We are now 11 months away from her 3rd birthday. (As I write this, she is riding her bicycle outside with flair.)

Her daily recitations never fail to amuse us:

"Mee mee.... mah mee.... omma.... woo-man (woman)...dock-doh (doctor)"
"Dadda... appa.... ba-ba... man....Ben (daddy's name)..."
"Mah mah... nai nai.... Ong (grandma's name)..."
"Yeh yeh... Ah Toh (grandpa's name)..."
"Dabba...ka... bus..." (Double-decker bus)
"Godma godma..."
"Happy... toooo...yoooo...." (Happy birthday to you...")
"Gong gong... dog... Oreo. Ah Ee... back... work... dog bark!"
"(H)and... Armpit... Elbow.... Knee....Toe.... Mou(th)... Eye... No(se)....(H)air.... BUTTOCK!"
"May I... go out?"

And so on. It's always magical to hear her utter words she never used to utter.

Stranger anxiety. It was never an issue before, but recently, she began avoiding unfamilar people, as well as cowering in stress and a little fear whenever there were other kids around. I'm hoping that it is just a temporary phase.

That's all for Sophie. As for me...

...teaching music as a mother is so different. The obstinate, strong-willed, curious, and impressionable children are the same - but before my eyes lies a new lens. One that causes me to fear that I'm not doing enough or meeting the expectations of parents. Because I am now a parent myself, I find myself wondering... What would I have a teacher do for Sophie if she threw a tantrum in class, refused to practise, insisted on her own (sincerely wrong) technique, or showed no interest in music? How would I want my children to be taught? What if my own child lacked confidence in herself and had a phobia of learning piano because of negative experiences with the previous teacher? What if my child had ADHD? (Of course, this is me being hypothetical. Sophie sat attentively through 2 hours of children's ministry recently, and I don't think she has ADHD.) What if my child was a slow learner? Not that I've never considered such things before... but now, it all seems more real while I am a mother myself. And pressing.

A day of mess ups

Sophie came down with the 2nd flu bout in a month - running nose, cough, fevers, and all. Check.

She threw up on my trousers just before I left for work this morning because she was crying and coughing at the same time. Crying because I had to put her down. Check.

Because I spent some of my morning teaching, I didn't go to the gym. Whenever I don't exercise, I feel sleepier than usual throughout the day. I am actually falling asleep in a cafe while typing this. And I was supposed to be working. Check.

You know how one thing leads to another. Sleepy and disorientated, I ordered the wrong coffee in the afternoon. I knew that something was amiss when I told the barista "Caffe latte" instead of my usual iced Americano. (I used to order caffe latte when I was breastfeeding - and that was more than a year ago!) I forgot to request for soy in my latte so it came with full cream milk. I don't drink full cream milk because I am still a little lactose intolerant. And now I'll have a big cup to down. Check.

Something in my right hand hurts and I have no idea what. Check.

Check. Check. Check.

But I thank God... for peace... because He has not left me uncared for. I see His hand in the help that I receive at home with Sophie. I see it in the encouragement of my mentors. I see it in the kindness of my colleagues. I see it in the love of a friend who cared to ask about my hand this morning. I see it in my daughter's yearning for connection with me and her perseverance to make mummy laugh at her antics. These... and so much more.

Meeting Mrs. D

For many years, I was a piano teacher before Sophie was born. 

I taught in homes, and in 2012, my best friend who is a brilliant piano teacher herself got me a teaching job at the music school where she used to teach. (She is now a missionary in a jungle-village kind of place.) It was a fun season for me while it lasted. My pre-schooling students were adorable; our boss was like-minded in so many ways; my best friend (who was now my colleague) and I went out on Wednesday night dinner dates after we were done teaching in the evenings; and I had many opportunities to explore a facet of music I had never known. Season came and like every other season, it ended. 

With a baby and by virtue of our nomadic lifestyle (we kept moving bases between our own place and my in-laws' place due to a tough first year and more), it was difficult to resume teaching. Or to even think of teaching. I just didn't have the energy for either. Physical, mental, emotional, social, and often, spiritual tiredness often kept me from wanting to have anything to do with the piano. And so, Sophie never saw me playing much. Eventually, I stopped playing - even for church. 

But.... like I blogged some posts ago, I am going back to teaching. I am not sure what the future holds or what my road-map looks like - but I thought I'd trust God with the circumstances that brought me to this point and just do it. I begin next week.

And God is a good God indeed. I was richly blessed when Mrs. D, my first music teacher (who taught me between the ages of 4 and 10), suddenly wrote and asked if we could meet up for coffee this week since she was going to be an examiner in Penang for a few days. I was very surprised because coincidentally, I was going to write to her about my employment. It was also kinda freaky because I have not met her since I was 10 and it was unusual for her to ask me out for coffee. (It is pretty unusual for me to have coffee with any of my teachers anyway.) Nobody had told her that I was going to teach as an alumni and she was equally surprised when I told her. And overjoyed. 

So we met yesterday afternoon and had a good, long chat... because God knew that I needed her encouragement. I felt so deeply ministered to, because here was a well-seasoned music teacher who could relate to my struggles of being a musician/teacher and a mother, a musician before a mother, and a mother who yearned to return to her first love, so to speak, (music) without neglecting her family or herself. It's actually much harder than I'd like to think. Mrs. D is a wife and mother herself - a God-fearing one - and so hearing her speak so honestly yet encouragingly about her own struggles from many years back helped me much. She also gave me the advice I needed pertaining teaching methods and overcoming the weaknesses of the education system under which I would teach and operate for the next few years at least.

Well, I did pray for peace some days back - even though it was about a different matter.

Today, I thank God for peace. 

Why dis-comfort zones are uncomfortable

I went for an orientation session at my new workplace today. 

The key teacher, who is to be my mentor while I work here, ran through the syllabus with me. She also demonstrated some teaching methods - which are very different from what I am used to - and we talked about lesson plans. 

While there was something soothingly familiar about the new (after all, I have been a student here before, albeit not in the last two decades), my heart or whatever that was urged me desperately to run away. I smiled as politely as I could at the key teacher, but deep down inside, I was terrified.

"You can't do this!" it screamed. "What if you don't meet the standards?"

What a horrible thought. And then a further thought...

"You don't have to do this!" 

Perhaps. But if anything, I have to be supermom. I want to show my little girl that it is OK to risk failing so that life grows bigger, better, and richer. I want her to know that it is even OK to fail as long as you are doing your best diligently. After all, as Dr. Martin Seligman, the founder of Positive Psychology, once said, "It's not our failures that determine our future success, but how we explain them to ourselves." Given that I can, by God's grace, deal with whatever failures I might arrive at and overcome, why not "do this"?

Work begins next week. Dear God, please go with me and help me to be a good teacher.

A new season

After a fermata on a rest from teaching music, I am returning to the vocation.

I know. I was surprised myself.

It was all very unexpected. I think I made it pretty clear to many that I shouldn't be doing this anytime soon. But there was this open door, which aroused my curiosity the moment I chanced upon it. (Or, did it, by God's divine appointment, chance upon me?) I don't know what made me do it... but I took a step of faith, entered the world I had almost sworn never to re-enter since I left... and that world, where the musical I was born and bred at least for the first 11 years, it rejoiced to take me back in.

Until now, I still don't know if I should returned. I've heard enough about the systems, its weaknesses, and its falling out of favour with the conventional crowd. But honestly, it did feel a bit like homecoming. Perhaps, then, I should give it a second chance. I would also like to believe that there are two sides to every coin. After all, music is music. As long as one strives to respect its history and classical traditions while making it tastefully relevant to the rapidly evolving conventions of today, I don't think there is a "right world" for it to flourish. Rather, we can make our respective worlds, wherever we are, the right worlds for music to thrive and inspire, teach and nurture, sow and reap. With the maturity I (hopefully) gained in the past 17 years of exploring foreign worlds, I look forward to learn, teach, and resume the journey back here. I thank God for making everything fall into place so frightfully well.

Having said that, the new season implies a lot more work than my previous stint. Exams to sit for. Priorities to juggle. Working on weekends. Plans to rethink. Please, if you will, pray with me. I worry too much. I worry myself.

Missions project ends

A picture from the last batch 

I am so relieved that we are completing work on our missions project soon. Thank You, Lord!

Exhausted, I am.

Drawing in this very season of my life has been challenging, due to my state of mind as I wrestle with inner conflicts, mood swings, shifting priorities and stuff. I really don't know what could have kept me going if it weren't for the strength that the Author of our project availed me as I chugged through His Word (I am still in the Gospel of Matthew after 5 months, haha). I wonder if I will ever move on from being so jaded, and I guess I will, but I am thankful that He has enabled me to finish working on the project, in order that there could be a closure to this remnant of the previous season that has complicated my moving on in so many ways. No doubt, it has been a good experience while it lasted and I am comforted that my sacrifices would benefit the beloved little children who read the books that my team worked on - but boy am I glad that I am done, just when I was getting restless!

About half a year has gone by since our little sweetheart was born. In 4 days time, Sophie celebrates 6 months over. I, as her often-clueless, way-to-hard-on-myself mom am excited for a break from the stressful unease of pending assignments so that I can experiment with offering her solid food in the coming month.

Ok, maybe not what you see on the plate...

Back from KL/Subang ~ and under house arrest...

Now, I am officially an SAHM - i.e. Stay At Home Mom.

I'll take this SAHM thingy as my main ministry for God's Kingdom for now (and many, many more years to come) - a primary calling which I received since I was little and revealed to few. I prepared for my SAHM role by um.... studying medicine and theology. :X ~ I must sound like a confused freak.

Never mind.

Anyway, my parents-in-law have left for home - and today saw me running around like a deranged orang utan - round the clock. Washing milk bottles and pump parts, doing the laundry, changing diapers, feeding baby Wong, burping her, cleaning up spills and spit-ups, pacifying the crying baby Wong, trying to get my drawing/illustration work done (unsuccessfully), expressing milk (via pump - and pumping with loads of adrenaline and stress hormones coursing my veins too, since Sophie was wailing while I was pumping and was therefore unable to be with her)... you name it. It felt a little like the Emergency Room rotation back when I was a medical student!

Of all days, Sophie had to be extra fussy today.

I was exhausted (not to mention lonely) - especially since we just returned from our trip yesterday evening. Couldn't have been more relieved when Ben came home from work! However... it was kinda fulfilling, I must say.

Praying that I would be able to get the hang of being SAHM soon.