A little steam

Thought I'd let out a little steam here about something close to the heart...

A friend of mine did something which I frowned upon some time ago. I had warned her that it would be dangerous and that I would be very angry if she did it - mostly because I care for her. Nevertheless, she did it anyway (secretly at first), and on the next day, confessed her actions to me. I don't think she thought that I would be as angry as I said, but I was. I told her very calmly that I was furious a la Grace (think: sphinx face with a detached smile) but I was unable to hide my thoughts that she had been very foolish. (The words leaked out of me like a suppressed fart yet pressing its way out of one's body viciously.) She was extremely hurt at my reaction - called to apologize (which I accepted) but later accused me of not being understanding of her situation and stuff. She also kept calling my husband (to whom I permitted her to be close in a big sisterly way) during a family outing that night to rant. She hung up multiple times. She also implied that I was "pushing her to the wall" i.e. forcing her into a position where there is only one choice to make - suicide. My husband thankfully replied that there was no need to mull over the incident: it's over. Needless to say, he was as disturbed as I was over the whole thing (especially because it was between the two of us, and he didn't really feel a need to be involved).

And so, here we are. Perhaps, I should have been quiet. Perhaps I should have laughed it off: "Oh, you did what? Ah, nice try..." Perhaps I should have been less judgmental, more understanding, more sympathetic, wiser, kinder and etc. I am sure that she had expected me to read her mind. Feel sorry for her and so, offer some encouragement. Well then, I feel horrible for having disappointed her.

But I am your friend. Not your Priest. Or Pope for that matter.

If you can be yourself with me, why can't I be myself with you?

Why do I need to hide the fact that I don't agree with what you are doing? That I feel angry that you did it? You always confess whatever you like. Then let me confess whatever I like too. Whenever.

What would you do if you were me? And I were you?

Days of exhaustion

Sometimes I wonder how is it possible for one to minister or give without getting emotionally involved. It seems that I can never walk away from any poor soul having been deeply cut myself in some way or another. And perhaps, this serves to magnify the ugliness of sin and the love of God who yet forgives. My only comfort is that the darkness in my own heart meets light through such penetrating wounds. Time heals. May I know my Redeemer, Jesus Christ, in my servanthood sufferings.

It's a friend this time.

A friend on the verge of giving up on life. A terminal illness has grown too painful to bear.

How can I tell her to hold on when she is in so much pain that I barely know? No, as heartbreaking it is for me, it is not about me. And so, I asked her to let go.

O God, be merciful and come to her rescue. Catch her when she falls.

Anger

I never expected to be here.

I never asked to be the kind of saint you think I am. I never thought that your journey (or what remains of it) I would join only to have to grieve over what might become of you in the months to come. Of course, you invited me to walk with you and that's amazing. I am honoured. Why did you trust me? I can barely trust myself.

At this very moment, every part of my soul is hurting. I am angry. It's not about the decisions you make or the lifestyle you choose, vexing as it may be. Neither have you let me down as a friend. Ever.

But I am angry because I am selfish. I hate grieving. I don't want to think of living in a world where you are missing (even for a while). I know that death would mean the end of your pain. But it would also be the beginning of mine.

I am angry because you have no idea what I am going through - the daily battle that I am confronted with and have to fight. I gave you the permission to confide in me, but in doing so, I've made myself vulnerable. In other words, I wait each day for you to hurt me deeply - unwittingly. You have that much access to my heart. But I can't fall apart while you are watching me. That wouldn't do.

I am angry because you matter to me even while we've only known each other for a short period of time. I needed someone. So did you. And we bonded. If you slept the sleep, how would I forget you? How would I be able to revisit the places where you were so alive?

But I will have to accept it. I am trying to, at least. So please understand if I come across naggy or numb. I recognise that I can't change things the way they are. I can't halt the progression of your illness; I can't make you go for the treatment it requires (because that might kill you); and I can't work a miracle if God in His wisdom intends it to stay that way. But I've wanted to. If I appear to be trying to change things (or you), please forgive me. If I seem angry and detached, be assured that it's not your fault. If it comes across as indifference, it's me masquerading my broken heart. While you may have accepted that you are dying, I haven't quite yet. I need time. I'm tired of hoping but I can't stop hoping just like that. Perhaps, the question is: what should I actually hope for?

I will miss you.

Not in some corny, year-end autograph book kind of way. But I will miss seeing you almost every day, your presence in my life (in often life-saving ways), and every bit of your eccentricity I've grown used to.

Muse: IM

Knackered beyond words. And down with a flu.

Sophie has also been flu-ish the past week. Which added to my stress. (But it was nothing compared to the food poisoning she had during our trip to Genting Highlands, thankfully!)

In light of my recent life challenges, I am so grateful for technology and the convenience of instant messaging (IM) applications. Think WhatsApp and FB Messenger. I wasn't into IM previously, but I have come to appreciate it more since I began owning a smartphone! Being able to reach out to a kindred spirit who is just a real-time text away (assuming there is Internet connection) is such a relief when you are at your wits end. Furthermore, as a person who dips quite easily into depression, I must say that IM keeps me from swimming too far into the deep end - because it enables me to get help without feeling like I need to see anybody in person, something I truly hate when I am down. (Fine, maybe I am already fairly anti-social without the depression.) And when I say "get help", I'd hardly admit that I am depressed. Perhaps I'd whine a little, but otherwise, it's a pretty normal text conversation - with a close friend. Nevertheless, it makes me feel much better afterwards. So, to you and you and you, thank you.

And why did I bring up the subject of IM anyway?

I wasn't feeling too happy or well today - but I somehow pulled out my phone and texted a friend to check on her (because she's been going through a hard time and the last text conversation we had ended up with her saying (typing), "Sigh." (She did ask me to check on her from time to time.) So, we chatted (briefly) again and couldn't help laughing at her messy situation because it is as hilarious as it is ridiculous and distressing. (Thankfully, things are much better for her now.) Later, we discussed a Bible verse that spoke to her and suddenly, it spoke to me too - I was comforted in my struggles. It then struck me that the IM is a relevant and contemporary means of rejoicing in the Lord "always" (Phil. 4:4, 1 Thess. 5:16-18) - provided we use it the right way. The thing about rejoicing is... it is an action rather than a state of being. One has to choose to do it habitually and purposefully so that joy becomes a very natural lifestyle, wherever one is and whatever the life circumstance. How well IM fits into the picture - for people like me! Of course, I make the effort to meet up with people every now and then - and I truly enjoy doing so on good days - but when I feel like I can't and yet need to get out of my head, IM is such a brilliant tool to get me to "pray without ceasing and give thanks in everything". It helps me to do a Philippians 4:8 when I am in danger of shutting out the whole world and drowning myself in sorrow.

Having said that, I promise to try my best not to be a nuisance to any particular friend. I myself know how harassingly annoying obsessive texters can be. Haha.

Trust

I think it's an honour to be trusted so much - even if it was by just one person. Not merely an honour, but a test. A test of humility. Pride lies to us, telling us that we are very trustworthy, that we can do something for the trustee because we're awesome (and indispensable), that we are among the best kind of friends one could have. But the truth is... we need God to do what we cannot do for others, even those who trust us. We need Him to help us to not breach confidentiality. We need God to help us to be reliable and not misuse our knowledge. We need God's strength to love tenaciously. We need God's wisdom to speak into the trustee's life without elevating ourselves as self-made sages.

And so, what do you do when the secret weighs you down with grief because you love the person too much? 

I guess the only solution is to trust God, whose love for that person far exceeds your own. 

Suddenly, thank you

Somebody whom I've grown to appreciate as a dear friend of late rang up at 11.20pm last night.

It was funny and a little freaky even, because I had just driven past her place.

She apologised in advance if she had woken me up from my sleep (Are you kidding me? The night is still young at 11.20pm!) or if the call had come in at an inappropriate hour.

I was like, "No... I'm good. What's up?"
"I just called to say...... thank you."

She proceeded to thank me for something I had done - which meant much to her (even though she couldn't tell me that face-to-face, she said). I was touched because I hadn't expected to be thanked. However, there was one problem. I wasn't sure if the suddenness of the call (and "thank you") was part of her being eccentric (she would kill me if she ever read my blog and stumbled upon this) or a secret signal for help. Or a suicide note.

I definitely watch too much CSI on TV. See what it does to your brain?

Or maybe she was dying somewhere...

Couldn't I have just taken her at her (last?) word?

Alarmed, I asked if she was OK. She insisted that she was (more than once) and that she was doing this because she couldn't bear to show me the sentimental side of herself in person. Said she was at home... it was after doing her chores, yada yada yada. Nevertheless, I found it so hard to believe her.

I pray that she will be all right.

(Edited: Found out some days later that she was actually at the hospital when she called.)

Jesus, Lord of even a haunted house...

We were having dinner with friends this evening. Good food, brilliant fellowship, and lots of mosquitoes.

Anyway, the topic of haunted houses had to come up.

Our friend told us how his family once rented a house that was haunted. It wasn't supposed to be a permanent residence - their own house was under renovation so they needed another house to stay in until the renovations were completed. They hadn't a clue that house they were going to rent was haunted prior to moving in but eventually, "interesting" things happened which led them to find out from a neighbour that two (and not just one) people hanged themselves in that place before. The previous tenants never stayed for long. The initial reaction of my friend's family was, of course, to feel creeped out. However, the family members put their faith in the Lord. My friend said that he remembers praying loads, singing praise hymns in the shower, and reciting Psalm 23 whenever it was spooky. One day, after the hugest incident (I shall not go into details because that is entirely beside the point), the family debated on whether or not they should move out of the house... but the mother of the family spoke up indignantly:

"Why should we move out? No! The Lord is our Shepherd. If anything should move out, it should be it or them and not us!"

What a faith-filled declaration. Amen, amen, amen.

The family ended up staying there for a year. They didn't move out until the renovations in their own house had been completed. And there were no more incidents after that day... even for the subsequent tenants.

This is the most encouraging ghost story I've heard so far. Indeed, "You are from God, little children, and have overcome them; because greater is He who is in us than he who is in the world! (1 Jn 4:4)

Faithful

I attended a preaching workshop at the seminary yesterday.

While the seminary feels stranger than it used to (I've not been there since I stopped working at the Holistic Child Department), something about it felt like home. The smells, the steep slopes, the sweat climbing up 'em steep slopes, the smiles, and the mesmerising seaview. The snakes too, I suppose.

It has been more than 2 years since I graduated. 

I. Can't. Believe. It. 

Anyway, it was during the workshop that God reminded me through Isaiah 6... that those who have chosen to serve Him should be faithful, even if not successful. 

Isaiah was never successful in the eyes of the world. He was never meant to be. His hearers, well most of them, shunned him. They would hear and not understand, see but not perceive... and continue wallowing in their sins and afflictions.

Have I been faithful? I think, this is a hard question to answer. It is especially tough on me because my self-esteem isn't on an all-time high... and I don't know if I'm being honest or self-critical.

See, I am that apple tree who doesn't seem to bear much fruit - compared to other apple trees. And I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be that way - or if I haven't given faithfully enough. Will I even produce another apple tree? We tend to measure one's faithfulness by his/her achievements and success. But what does God see when He looks into a person's heart?

I wonder what He sees when He looks into my wandering heart. I certainly don't feel very faithful myself. 

It is so easy to be faithful when you're constantly plugged into a people up on a "holy mountain". What happens when you live on the other side of the island - absorbed in nothing your holy mountain prepared you for and far away from your support network - and much of your world is made up of people who can't relate to your calling and its struggles? Temptations abound, a cynical veil blinds, troubles multiply, and foreign ways overtake and choke. After a while, you start to doubt your calling. Did God call me in the first place? What if I was wrong all this while?  

Yup. 

A friend of mine said something today that made me realise that I don't actually understand what faithfulness is. So far, I've always seen it as a human effort - something you beat yourself up to do if you are prone to slacking. However, as my friend talked about how God has been performing painful but liberating "heart surgeries" on her since she decided that she was ready for them, I was rather blown-away by the revelation that perhaps faithfulness is not just about me striving to be loyal to God and His call. For a human being, it is about receiving and hungering to receive more from God with regard to allowing Him to deal with the existing pain and guilt in your life (even while the process might be even more painful) so that you can be free to choose to love and obey Him. My friend said that she can't help but love Jesus now after what she had received from Him. 

It must have been a similar experience for Isaiah. His lips were cleansed with burning hot coal, so hot that the seraphim had to pick it up with tongs from the altar. (Do you smell that burning flesh?) It must have been excruciating - but it did set him free to later volunteer himself: "Here I am! Send me." (BTW, I don't think God was asking a rhetorical question, "Whom shall we send?" expecting Isaiah to say YES.) Perhaps then, we should see Isaiah 6 as Isaiah choosing to devote his life to God's cause having received God's gracious intervention in the knotted, tangled, painful, conflicted depths of his soul. Isaiah 6, I think, has far more to do with Isaiah choosing gratefully (and joyfully) to love a saviour God than him merely wanting to serve God's purposes because it was the right thing to do. Love God and success becomes unimportant - because you live to please God rather than the world who defines that success.

But will I be willing to taste that pain?

End of rambling. 

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.

Confession chats

There is nothing like long, heart-to-heart chats with a God-fearing friend whose kind empathy invites you to spill out even the most evil of your thoughts. Almost fearlessly.

It is no wonder that James 5:16 says, "Therefore confess your sins to one another and pray for one another that you may be healed.The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working." It is the assurance of God's forgiveness of our sins through Christ at the horizontal level as well as the merciful, prayerful response of a fellow Believer to our exposed indecencies.... that make sacramentally present Christ's intercession and God's forgiveness at the vertical level. Consequently, we are healed of the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual illnesses that result from keeping our sins inside us (Ps 32:3); after all, the very nature of sin is death. A repentant sinner uncertain of God's pardon and peace remains ill. A friend who creates a climate for that sinner to bare her wounded soul and prays... facilitates the rehabilitation that God intends. A journey of restoration. A journey in the light of the Lord. 

I had one of those chats over lunch today. While it doesn't exactly solve my predicament, nevertheless, spilling out, finally, my most troubled (and even evil) thoughts regarding the situation was very liberating. Could there be healing after all? I look forward to being depression-free.

Thanks, J. 

To be kind is to think

My melancholic nature makes me sympathize deeply and empathize easily with people.

Tell me your sad story and I might cry with you.
Tell me about your "horrible boy friend" and I might encourage you to stop seeing him - even if you were also in the wrong.
Tell me that you want to run away from home - and I might feel so much of your pain that I help you to run away.

Because I wasn't used to letting logic into the picture when the sympathetic emotions were running high, I got conned. I became emotionally attached to the people I was listening to. I was haunted by certain people who rejoiced that I was a kind dumping ground for their negative feelings, their aimless complaints. And I was stuck in years of being truly, madly, deeply "in love" with guy friends who had no other intention but to confide their troubles to me - and were certainly never going to reciprocate my feelings. Sad but honestly true.

Hands up for those of you who can relate to this?

Being a mum is toughening me up. While it used to be hard to not give in whenever my daughter cried/whined in protest to my boundaries, it is getting easier to recognise that her temporary pain and displeasure will do her good in the longer run. While I feel so painfully sorry for her (hearing her cry is like getting my heart stabbed), to be kind is not to immediately remove the boundaries that I had set, but rather to think. What kind of harm am I subjecting her (and myself) to by gratifying her wayward inclinations? What kind of person am I raising her up to be? Will my lax parenting methods cause Sophie to question my love and acceptance for her in the future? After all, a father (and a mother) disciplines the son (or daughter) whom he/she delights in as a child (cf. Hebrews 12:6).

Being a mum also changes the way I listen to people. Not necessarily in a heartless, detached, emotionally-absent way. But I try to think, to seek understanding a little more - and not allow my emotional responses to another's pain dictate my words and actions too much. Because it is better for you and me. So please don't get upset with me if I don't respond the way you want me to respond - even if you had to say, "God told me..." ~ Or if I decide to point you to a more objective perspective. Or if I say no. It doesn't change the fact that I care deeply for you.

Guess I had to learn it the hard way.

Because God makes all things beautiful in His time ~

Friendship. 

Sophia ~

Today's meet up reminded me of a beautiful fact. Life will always be tough, but God is sovereign and His grace will always be sufficient for those who lean on Him. 

His grace to me, I've realised, comes often as a treasure trove of unexpected friendships. They bud just in time to cushion my crash landings and distract me from my pain. Keeping in step with their blossoming makes time pass a little faster while I wait for my winter to melt into spring. In giving as well as receiving, a warmth sets in. Love makes the bitter sweet - and the fondest memories are born out of even the most difficult times. 

I really should be more thankful. 

Arranging a play date

Our little girl is going on a short play date this evening.

Her date is the two-year-old son of very good friends of mine. Actually, we are popping by to say hello to his baby brother for the first time - and since Sophie is coming along (as per his excited mom's request) - play date, it is, with the fair and handsome prince big brother. Haha.

Arranging the play date was a funny experience.

Knowing how Sophie might behave with strangers, children at a similar developmental stage, and in new environments, I had to let P (the prince's mom) know, just in case there was a meltdown or turbulence of some sort. I was also worried that Sophie might traumatise prince because she can be quite feisty when she wants to be. She laughed at me (and said that I was being very melancholic), but also decided to let me on prince's little quirks. We both agreed that we would keep the date short and sweet because it was approaching their bedtimes - and you know how toddlers become cranky and hyperactive when they are tired.

P subsequently asked me what Sophie eats and usually plays with so that she could prepare a little something for her. Awww. I like this mom.

Why does it feel a little like match-making? ;P

On friendship

To my dearest friends. Thank you. 

"We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over." – Ray Bradbury

"A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow." – William Shakespeare

"Anybody can sympathize with the sufferings of a friend, but it requires a very fine nature to sympathize with a friend’s success." – Oscar Wilde

"The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, not the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when you discover that someone else believes in you and is willing to trust you with a friendship." – Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Every friendship travels at sometime through the black valley of despair. This tests every aspect of your affection. You lose the attraction and the magic. Your sense of each other darkens and your presence is sore. If you can come through this time, it can purify with your love, and falsity and need will fall away. It will bring you onto new ground where affection can grow again." – John O’Donohue

"Growing apart doesn’t change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I’m glad for that." – Ally Condie

To KL and back

I survived a one night two days trip down to KL and back.

With a toddler. With my very optimistic husband. And two other optimistic friends.

I felt like the odd one out. I was the annoying, panicky, troublesome, stressed out, OCD mom.

Wet tissues, please. 
Why is there a rash on her cheeks?
It's time to change her nappy. She's worn it long enough. 
Let me wipe her chair with a Dettol wipe. 
Oh dear, the floor is so dusty!
Oh no, her feet are so dusty. Now our bed is dusty.
I need to soak her potty with that dish-washing liquid.
Don't feed her chips! 
Don't feed her chicken nuggets!

And so on. I could have said more, but I held my tongue whenever I could.

It turned out that Sophie was exceptionally well-behaved this round - especially during the 4 hours long drives to and fro. She slept when she was supposed to sleep, drank milk, and spent long periods of time (up to 2 hours) staring quietly out of the window, while fingering the corners of her favourite pillow. She would occasionally call for "dada" or "mama" in order to let us know that she was still awake and thinking of us. Our friends were impressed. So angelic, they said.

So unlike the mom.

I am so knackered. Yet, here I am, munching muesli and blogging in the middle of the night like there's no tomorrow.

Pass it on

Yesterday, a dear brother (who hails from the other side of the island) happened to be on my side of the island for a lunch appointment and a personal errand.

He informed me of his coming one day prior. After giving me the impression that he would try his best to avoid me like plague (perplexing), he still dropped by my work cafe the next day to see if he could (and I cite him) "stalk" me for a few minutes. Seeing that I was not there (yet), he was probably going to leave when I arrived in the nick of time.

Yes, I was very surprised. And happy. And touched.

That simple act, which he must have thought fun, meant a lot to me. It is nice to be thought of and remembered when you think about your faraway friends so very often and are not sure if they ever think of you back.

Living on the south is challenging for me that way. Thank God, He yet makes it bearable.

Anyway, having been blessed and warmed, I decided to bless and warm the cockles of someone else's heart today.

J in Penang

After 3 months aboard the Logos Hope ship (as the community doctor), J is back in Penang, her hometown, on her final mission before she returns to her job in Singapore.

I am so glad that she is here. J has been a close friend to me ever since my days in Dublin (she was my senior in med school) - and our friendship stuck despite our very different personalities. As she was one of the key figures in my recovery from EDs (her affirmations could certainly fill up a book or two) as well as my journey as a missionary/ministry worker, I grew as attached to her as she was attached to me. We also used to serve in church together, which expanded our friendship further. Nowadays, we keep the friendship alive by Whatsapp texting, my occasional trips to Singapore (haven't been there since Sophie was born), and her rare occasional trips back to Penang.

I was telling somebody recently that I don't grow emotionally attached to that many people at one go (by virtue of my personality), and whenever I do, it can be very hard to say goodbye when I don't know if I will see those whom I have grown to love and depend on ever again. And so, I am always grateful for friends who remain in my life even after many springs, summers, autumns and winters ago... and even after I have become the person I am today. It is nice to have somebody remember the journey that brought me (us) here and remind me of how far I (we) have come by God's grace - especially if it is a trusted friend who walked the long road with me for a while. J is one of those who did.

We spent yesterday afternoon catching up and sharing our hearts at Queens' Market (at Queensbay Mall) and I interviewed her on her opinions of childhood and child-raising in light of her own childhood as well as her experiences as a GP in stressful, highly competitive Singapore. Her answers served to reassure me that I am not doing too badly as a mom after all! Woohoo! :P

Gotta stop to smell the roses.

Anyway...

Also glad I am, that my best friend, R, is back in Penang from Kalimantan for a short holiday. I can't wait to see her!

Happy Mother's Day (an early post)

Sophie turns 1 year old tomorrow.

If it takes a village to raise a child, I believe that it also takes many mothers to raise a mom.

In no particular order of importance:

Mother-in-law.
Spiritual mom.
Fellow mamas at church, in the seminary and all around the world.
Fellow breastfeeding moms and EP moms.
Fellow blogger moms.
Sophie's generous godma. My best friend.

Thank you for your encouragement, love, kind favours, generous sharing of experiences, advice, blessings, and prayers. I don't think that I would have survived this past year without any of you. Happy Mother's Day.

And while I still fall short in many ways (yes, I am being very hard on myself), Happy Mother's Day to me. :)

It is Finished

I attended two different Good Friday services this year.

First, I sat through the 3-hours long liturgical service at St. George's Anglican where we were presented with 7 short sermons on Jesus' 7 last words on the cross. It was good for me. I left Sophie with her grandma in order to not have to bother with keeping a pre-toddler occupied and quiet throughout the service. On my own too. (I don't think that she would have appreciated having to be still and quiet for 3 hours - and I didn't want to sit alone in the creche for 3 hours.) Having not listened to a sermon un-distracted for so long, I must say that it was a refreshing experience. It was lovely to see friends whom I haven't seen in a while, being on the other side of the island. 

Secondly, I was at Trinity's Good Friday service in the evening with my husband. Reflecting on the cross of Christ for the second time in one day made the picture much clearer and my heart even more thankful. I am thankful that Jesus came to die for our sins, and that the Creator God would go to that extent to show us how deep, high, and wide His love is for us, His created beings. Why would He create us if He already knew that we would be so much trouble? Why create us in order to have to save us and woo us into a love relationship with Him? Why create us in order that we may not only have fellowship with Him but also be part of Him in Christ? His ways and thoughts are so much higher than ours that my brain hurts trying to comprehend the mystery. And perhaps, such a mystery was never meant to be solved. Rather it invites us to participate in it, ponder upon it in awe and delight, and savour it to our deepest satisfactions. 

Thank You, Jesus.

On a lighter note, I have completed the first draft of my first sermon of the year.