A classical symphony on an Epistle

Reading Paul's Epistle to the Philippians this evening, I thought that it could be presented as a classical symphony, scored in four movements that evoke a range of emotions through contrasts of tempo and mood. 

(Please don't stone me.)

Movement 1: Philippians 1 - Sonata allegro; vigorous, energetic and passionate while Paul writes in his imprisonment (in Rome) to the Philippian Church who must have been undergoing internal and external conflicts/opposition. Introduction and thanksgiving that the gospel is preached despite sly preachers are followed by exhortations, particularly to "only conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ... stand firm in one spirit, with one mind... strive together for the faith of the gospel... not be alarmed by your opponents" (cf. 1:27-30)

Movement 2: Philippians 2 - gentle, lyrical, slow and reflective as readers are encouraged to be Christ-like and persuaded to receive Timothy, Epaphroditus and other Kingdom-workers in high regard because of their humbling faithfulness.

Movement 3: Philippians 3 - minuet and trio; Paul starts with "rejoice in the Lord", something that he had exuded himself in the previous chapters as well as encouraged his readers to do (directly or indirectly). Although this is followed by an almost-unrelated grim warning: "Beware of the dogs, beware of the evil workers, beware of the false circumcision..." (3:2) as well as Paul's reasoned arguments that motivate the Philippians to put no confidence in the flesh, the joy of the Christian experience again dominates the rest of this chapter. Paul reveals the source of his joyful contentment and hope : knowing and belonging to Jesus Christ. 

Movement 4: Philippians 4 - a vivacious Allegro molto; Paul drives home to his readers a closing appeal for steadfastness, unity, joy and contentment in the Lord. A thank you note and closing comments bring the whole symphony to a spirited and triumphant finale: "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit." (4:23)

Pic source

What do you think?

Next on the itinerary... and a whole new world

My sore throat's barely ended - but a cold has set in. The sneezing fits began yesterday afternoon, after my nap. My nose is prevailing in its copious productions - against all odds and antihistamines. I hope that the cold will be gone before the graduation events next week - or I will be tired out.

Oh well, on the brighter side, we've just stocked up on toilet tissue the previous weekend... 30 rolls of those huge, compact ones. It's like how the Malay proverb goes: "Sediakan payung sebelum hujan." (Literally: Prepare umbrella before the rain.) Looks like we did it right!

A Whole New World from Disney's Aladdin (composed by Alan Menken and Tim Rice) was playing on the radio today. I've never really paid much attention to its lyrics all the while, but somehow, the words caught me good today - and made me tear. I know it was originally a ballad between the lovestruck Aladdin and Princess Jasmine about the "whole new world" they were to discover together - but I suddenly imagined that it was the Lord's words spoken into my wondering (and wandering) heart with regards to the new life I have been given in His death... A life received by grace through faith - one that makes all the ugliness, brokenness, uncertainties and sufferings of the world different and redeemable, as I see them in a new light (and from a different angle). There is hope in God's redemption through Jesus Christ. I hope it doesn't sound heretic/blasphemous, haha - but this is A Whole New World, my version:

God: I can show you the world
Shining, shimmering, splendid
Tell me, princess, now when did
You last let your heart decide?

I can open your eyes
Take you wonder by wonder
Over, sideways and under
On a magic carpet ride

A whole new world
A new fantastic point of view
No one to tell us no or where to go
Or say we're only dreaming

Me: A whole new world
A dazzling place I never knew
But when I'm way up here, it's crystal clear
That now I'm in a whole new world with You

God: Now I'm in a whole new world with you...

Me: Unbelievable sights
Indescribable feelings
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling
Through an endless diamond sky

A whole new world
(Don't you dare close your eyes)
A hundred thousand things to see
(don't Hold your breath, it gets better)

I'm like a shooting star
I've come so far
I can't go back
To where I used to be

God: A whole new world
(Every turn a surprise)
With new horizons to pursue
(Every moment gets better)

I'll chase them anywhere
There's time to spare
Let me share this whole new world with you

A whole new world
That's where we'll be
A thrilling chase
A wondrous place
For you and Me.

Short muse: hymns

Back from a long and strenuous choir rehearsal for next week's Sacred Music Festival choir. Please do come if you are free on Saturday, the 12th of October, 8pm. The choir and orchestra will perform at the Penang Tunku Abdul Rahman College Auditorium. Tickets cost RM20 each.

Physically exhausted, I am... but strangely, I feel so recharged emotionally, mentally and spiritually from working hard with the rest of the choir on hymns. Doing the "amens" on forte at the finale brought tears to my eyes (even though it's just a rehearsal), because it hit me that we were, as a choir, putting our trust and hope in God... that the words we've sung throughout the whole repertoire of hymns would bring our audience to savour His glory and grace.

Hymns. So oversung (or badly sung - pardon my blunt) in many of our churches that some people just sing them for the sake of liturgy without giving attention to what the words really mean... or they sing it because it gives them a sense of familiarity of the good old days. It is no wonder that the hymns have fallen out of favour with the younger generations. I have nothing against contemporary worship music. (I often use contemporary songs in my worship-leading... drums, bass, acoustic guitar and all.) Nevertheless, hymns are such treasures that it would be a tragic loss if we didn't teach our children (and younger Christians) to appreciate them - the beautiful poetry, their composers, the story behind the compositions, the themes, the parts of Scripture that they point us to so skillfully, the meaningful prayers they encapsulate, the beauty of voicing out those prayers/praises as a congregation, etc. Or worse still, we stop appreciating them ourselves. 

Hymns are not only for those who qualify as our uncles, aunties, daddies, mommies, grandmas, grandpas, etc. Hymns can certainly make a difference in the lives of younger people too.

As for myself, I only grew to appreciate hymns during my time at PMC... thanks to a brother and friend who was so very adamant that I should get to know them. (He was a very compelling teacher of the hymns too!) And indeed, the hymns have enriched my walk with God in many ways. I admit that sometimes, when the tune of a hymn is not my cup of tea (me being me), I read the words out loud instead of singing them like the rest of the congregation, haha. Well, at least there is still some sense of being one with everybody, yes?  

Thought I'd end with the first stanza of a hymn that I found especially meaningful today ~ "Dear Lord and Father of Mankind" by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892):

"Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
forgive our foolish ways;
Reclothe us in our rightful mind,
in purer lives Thy service find,
in deeper rev'rence,
praise."

A golden silence

How profound it is

that when I - distraught

and beset by life's ironies,

peace can yet be found

as I stand me on the ground

beneath the silent boughs of a wise old tree.

While burdened, I lament and groan

Yet, I stand here not alone,

for my glorious Maker,

who made also this tree,

tarries beneath its boughs with me;

and makes its silence 

in His presence

golden.

Mulanya Di Sini ~ Flashback

You can listen to the song at this link. I am sorry that I do not have an English translation for those of you who don't understand Malay. 

One of my choir seniors was doing a solo rendition of this song at a recital we were performing in. I was about 5, had only lived for half a decade by that time, and therefore, didn't know much Malay - but something about the song made me tear. Perhaps, it was how the words "Sama-sama" (trans: together) resonated with the part of me that was always afraid of being lonely.

As I came across this song today, I thought back - past all the farewells/transitions in life - of that day when Erina sang this song at the recital. I stood in the tiny red shoes of my much younger self - who was waiting for her turn to perform on the Electone. I heard Erina sing again. Melodiously, powerfully. Backstage, the older children and teenagers sang or hummed along with dreamy smiles on their faces. I busied myself for the next few minutes, wondering what or who they could have been thinking of. The smell of encased wires, carpet, wood and musical instruments filled the cold-ish air. The youngest of the group suddenly felt afraid, even as she held onto the hand of an older child in silence. She was never one to be immediately open about her thoughts. The older child looked down and smiled. "Are you ready?" 

Startled, she scrambled out of her head. Looked up, smiled and admitted, "My tummy feels like it is turning upside-down." The older child laughed. What an adorable girl!

She was not afraid of solo-ing before the crowd. Rather, she was afraid of the long journey of life that lay ahead. Afraid that the familiar would suddenly dissolve into the dark unknown. Afraid of being abandoned. Afraid of death - and the separation that death brings.
 
Afraid of being alone. Such a vulnerable, overwhelming emotion for an adult - not to mention that for a five-year-old child.

Such wild, distracting thoughts before an important performance. 

Oh well. She still played Kubota's "China Junk" captivatingly, I think. 

I comforted the little one: "But you will never be alone. Jesus Christ is your Lord and Saviour ~ He died for your sins. He already knows you. He knew you even before you were conceived in your mother's womb. When you finally get to know Him... when you surrender to Him your life... even when you have to bid loved ones and good friends farewell... even when you need to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, please know that He will yet walk with you. You do have an interesting journey ahead of you. Live it to the fullest, will you?"

I don't know if she heard me. She would certainly make all the mistakes that I made in life... and I can't do anything about that! However, my heart in the present was filled with both gratitude and hope. Indeed, God makes all things work together for those who love Him - and are called according to His purpose.

Jesus, thank You.

To those who have walked with me - or are still walking with me - through the journey of life... family, friends, mentors, prayer partners, ministry partners etc... thank you. 

The lyrics: 

Tibanya di sini
Bagai terulang lagi
Kisah yang indah
Antara kita berdua

Sehingga di sini
Tiada berpaling lagi
Kita berteman
Seiring jalan dan sehaluan

Sama sama menjejak mimpi
Sama sama mencari dan menanti
Segalanya direstui cinta sejati
Sama sama gunung didaki
Sama sama turun ke lembah sepi
Suka duka bersama dirasai

Mulanya di sini
Ku kenali dirimu
Sehingga kini
Sehingga ke akhir waktu

Akhirnya di sini
Ku kenali hatimu
Sehingga kini
Kita akan terus berlagu

Di hadapan kita ada jalan
Menuju di kejauhan ada sinar menanti
Di penghujung perjalanan ini
Oh... sambil bernyanyi
Mendendang senandung yang syahdu
Riangnya hati dan indah duniaku...

Castrato. Castrati. And so on.

Wednesday. A day of reading at Barnes & Noble in the Arboretum. A fine day. 

And then, I met the bizarre.

I had gobbled up at least three of them, books - before I arrived at the fourth. I went no further than four books because something in the last book left me both intrigued and pained. With a little indigestion, even.

It was no fault of the author. Lunday, the author of the fourth book, chronicles the lives, achievements and works of a selection of classical music composers from the different eras of music history - in a sturdy book, not more than an inch thick. A brilliant book, I thought, despite its shocking title. So real, so deep, and yet so concise. An easy book to read, I liked most things about it - the caricature illustrations, fonts and Lunday's humour (which kept cracking me up). My appreciation for classical music and her composers has bulked up with just one read. The book, however, is certainly not the most conventional of its genre. Lunday is creative in familiarising the opaque, bizarre and complex details that they become especially memorable.

Alas, I am stuck ruminating on the subject of castrati. The most memorable thing ever.

Castrati does not spell the name of an Italian dish, although I have no idea why it reminds me of food. Castrati (singular: castrato) were the breed of "angelic" voices who have inspired great operatic arias in especially the 18th century. Where and how were they made? In special surgical rooms of Italy, talented pre-pubescent boys who had consented to devote their lives to becoming opera singers or royal vocalists (whether by their own choice or by that of their parents who desired stardom for their sons for monetary reasons) were castrated to prevent them from reaching puberty. The castrati were Italian eunuchs in the name of art. 

The result of the brutal pursuit? Their voices never broke - and therefore, retained the flexible vocal range of young boys. Such voices were favoured for their pitch and power, with the high notes of a pre-pubescent boy passing from the intensely cultivated anatomy of an adult. (Of course the castration was just the beginning. They had to train hard. More about the castrati here and here.)

Well, my curiosity got the better of me. 

I absolutely had to listen to a castrato sing. 

I did. And my heart broke. For the life of me, I don't know how people could have ever thought such singing to be angelic, magical or ethereal. It made my skin creep, hands-down. (It also made my first encounter with a human cadaver seem mild.) It was not merely about voice quality. I have nothing against men who achieve falsetto naturally via technique (I do know of such a person). Or eunuchs. Or those born with the genetic condition of Kallmann's. Rather, it was knowing the story behind the voice that made the difference. I couldn't imagine how any parent could have had the heart to set his/her sons on such a career path. Difficult decisions must have been made. And I won't attempt to put myself in the shoes of the Italian eunuch, exotically glamorous his life must have been. 

Picture Source

Well, the castrati were celebrated artists in their own right, no doubt. If I had lived that many centuries ago, when women were barred from stage-work, I might have been a fan myself. Perhaps, I might have savoured the singing. But here I am, a child of a different era. I enjoy jazz and harmonising tenor voices.

Which brings me to the almost unrelated subject of pain and the artist. I have blogged about this before (just in case you find it familiar).

Pain is often food to artists, bitter as it is for the moment.

Food. Not merely knowledge, beauty or even the love that warms one's lonely heart - but pain.

Vincent Van Gogh's "Starry Night"

An artist often goes through hell to bring the world a glimpse of heaven, so to speak. I won't over-generalize, but this, I have often found to be true.

It is often through the worst, darkest, most desperate times and circumstances of an artist's life - that the most moving songs, poetry, dances or paintings have been birthed. Such forms of art have been known to refresh others who are in pain. Like a soothing balm.

The elegance of pain-birthed art is like that of a pearl embedded in an oyster's shell. As a result of irritation, the pearl took form in a dignified, determined and unperturbed manner out of existing God-given resources. Its lustre shakes the core of hearts and induces peace in the midst of unrest. Even when reality points to the absence of a present solution, one feels comforted that the artist can identify with his/her pain. Even if wordlessly.
 
But is there comfort and healing for suffering artists?

In prayer and solitude? Undoubtedly so. In the company of the like-minded? Probably. But perhaps, suffering also calls for artists, having looked up and around, to bear down and push.

Maybe... put it all into a song, a poignant dance, a poem, a humble painting, a rough sculpture, a drawing in the sand, a bottle of stars, a crafted jewellery, a knitted dress, a patchwork quilt, a heart-warming cake, what have you ~ and push it out as fervently as you possibly can for the many eyes, ears, noses, mouths, minds, hands and heart to perceive. Take time every now and then to appreciate God's artistry. Be out in the wild, listen to the nocturnal serenades, watch the dances of nature, feel the wind against your face - or study human anatomy. And then be inspired by God's authenticity in His creation of His world. Beauty in the deep, form in a formless void, light in darkness, a man from mere dust.

Healing might or might not come in a gush... but all the same, healing begins. Furthermore, as any creative effort and appreciation of creativity are the embodiment of the image of our Creator in us, we would have rubbed shoulders with Him - who also heals.  

Subsequently, we may express our art in the backdrop of promise and hope.

They say that an artist's legacy rests on whether or not his art was true to his heart. I would like to add that an artist's legacy also rests on whether or not his art resonates with the hearts of those it has been created to reach. Suffering is a necessary ordeal in this world we live in. Only artists who understand the sufferings of mankind and hope, can truly produce their empathic balms.

Finally, to fellow Christian artists: we are responsible for our artistic expressions.

Our art should not merely serve to entertain. It can and will and must - but our art should also redeem. The Greek word for "redeem" in the Bible is used of the ransom paid to free slaves from slavery or captives from captivity. It is an important metaphor used to help us understand what Jesus has done for us on the cross - with regard to sin and death. Art that redeems not only induces a yearning for freedom in its beholders. It also holds the key to freedom for its beholders - from their many bondages. Such art envelops the hope of Christ. Such art, God also uses to bring life.

I am not saying that we need to brand our art with Bible verses or churchy jargon. A drawing of a flower, for instance, could just consist of a stalk, two leaves and five petals on a blank sheet of paper. It could be a drawing of a withered flower if need be. However, it is worth exploring how our hope in Christ may shine forth in such a drawing - creatively and extravagantly. Of course, to do so we need to first embrace this hope and know what we are hoping for in the midst of the pains that we endure.

This is not easy. I often struggle to embrace hope. But let such struggles not be wasted. I pray that out of these struggles, I may give more and yet share God's love and hope with others through my art. Yes, the love and hope of the God who stoops down to look at us and raise us from the dust (cf. Ps 113:6-7).

Musician's Muse: Seeing life in a different octave

A friend lamented briefly today that he felt as though he had "wasted years" by not putting in sufficient effort during his earlier years of musical education. He shared that when he had finally worked up a passion for music, the perceived lack in his foundation was discouraging to him.

Somehow, his lamentation left a deep impression on me. I was mildly unsettled by it. Was it because I felt for him? Perhaps. Was it because I could relate to it in one way or another? Perhaps - no - probably, I could. But more than that, I was intrigued by what our mistakes in life could mean.

Picture by Victor Bezrukov

For most musicians, making "mistakes" in a well-rehearsed-for performance usually means playing the wrong notes - or what sounds wrong to the listeners' ears. However, most seasoned performers know that there is a way of redeeming themselves so that their mistakes actually sound like they were a planned part of the performance. Some geniuses improvise so confidently and smoothly that the mistakes even turn into hallmarks of character and innovational interpretation. Performers don't just stop playing to mourn! There is no time for regretting that split second that was - because the present moment is too precious to be jeopardised. Time ticks on. The audience continue to watch with bated breaths. The critics continue to make notes. And the final applause awaits.

No, I am not trivialising mistakes. There are certainly fatal mistakes in life that we must be careful not to make - because the consequences are too costly to bear. We should also not make a habit (or lifestyle) of the same old mistakes - giving ourselves excuses to accept them as OK. Even in music, precision is still precision - and personally, I feel that precision is powerful. However, I believe that it is still possible to see the mistakes that we have made unintentionally and therefore, those "wasted years", from a different angle. All those sad and sometimes ugly things can yet contain beauty and potential - particularly when we surrender them to God.... simply because He is the perfect Genius when it comes to turning mistakes into the hallmarks of His power and glory - to be savoured by those who trust and love Him.

Wasted years - if any - do not have to stay wasted. There is still hope for those wasted years. 

In Christ, eternal life is a NOW while it is a YET TO COME. And now encompasses yesterday. In Christ, an abundant life is found, the tapestry of which those wasted years may be woven into by the invisible hands of a gracious and merciful God.

Subsequently, life may be seen in a different octave. Play the adjacent C and C# notes simultaneously - and they clash unappealingly like gnashing teeth. Play the C note one octave higher (instead of the one a semitone down from C#) - and a pretty Major 7th chord sounds. Although this may not be the best analogy, life in Christ enables us to choose to play the C note one octave higher - and thus, the sweet C#Maj7 chord - so to speak! The ugly and unappealing may be redeemed.

If you are not a musician, don't bother yourself trying to understand the above paragraph. It was just a musician's muse. :)

Musician bytes

Whenever I am discouraged, God always slips in that vital bit of encouragement. Through whoever. In the most mysterious yet relevant way.

And I am often discouraged, I must say, when it comes to my musicality. 

I suppose, all musicians and performers struggle with this. There is always this fear that you are not enough. To bring delight, blessing, entertainment and rest to an audience through art is a good calling. But one of the biggest occupational hazards (other than problems with the bodyparts most needed for your art - e.g. fingers, elbows and back for the pianist) is low self-esteem. When I dip into my lowest, I tend to compare myself with other musicians and feel mediocre. Every bit of advice, tip, correction or constructive criticism from others (especially my coaches, leaders, mentors, etc.) are received in a destructive manner. Self-condemnation abounds. And I end up abandoning my art. Just like that.

The other day, I happened to dig out an old home-recording of one of the songs I wrote 2 years back. I was amazed at how blessed I was listening to it. I marvelled, "Wow, how did all these profound stuff get expressed so simply?" ~ and I knew that the song was nothing short of God's inspiration. I imagined... so this was how people felt listening to that composition, imperfect as I had made it, haha. I was then confronted with a question: "Why did you doubt, you of little faith? Why did you stop writing songs?"

Wait, make that two questions. My answer? 

I guess I stopped trusting in God because I doubted that He had delighted in helping me...and I began doing things in my own strength. Since it didn't work out too well, I was discouraged and gave up writing. Not exactly RIP song-writing, but still.

Following that 'revelation', a missionary contacted me to ask if I could join his team in a song-writing/music project... to which I jumped because it was a dream come true. Praise God! Subsequently, a friend encouraged me (out of the blue) about a song performance I did at somebody's wedding last year. It meant a lot coming from him, because he is really critical and yim zhim when it comes to music. Thank you, to whoever you are. 

God, You have indeed turned my mourning into dancing. 

Sung to the tune of "If you're happy and you know..."

If you're lonely and you know it, make a friend...
If you're lonely and you know it, make a friend...
But of every friend you know, there's One who'll never let go
If you're lonely and you know it, make a friend...

If you're lonely and you know it, bless someone...
If you're lonely and you know it, bless someone...
Someone whose day you can make, coz you have whate'er it takes
If you're lonely and you know it, bless someone...

If you're lonely and you know it, praise the Lord...
If you're lonely and you know it, praise the Lord...
When others fail to give a hand, He'll never fail to by you stand
If you're lonely and you know it, praise the Lord...

He sings...

What a busy Monday! Voice lessons, research and work at Faith Music. I am somehow a little glad that I don't have classes to teach tomorrow - so that I can have a whole day to focus on my research paper on ethnomusicology.

Zephaniah 3:17 has been on my mind since Friday evening (Rev. Dr. Ong Hwai Teik quoted this verse in his memorable sermon) - I came across the same verse in the 2 books that I reviewed this afternoon.

"The Lord, your God is with you;
the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
in His love He will no longer rebuke you, 
but will rejoice over you with singing..."  (NIV)

What a beautiful promise. Of course ~ in the original context, this was God's promise to the rebellious, whoring Israel who went after other gods. However, this must also be God's promise to the redeemed through Christ today. The Mighty Warrior has triumphed on the cross, where we find refuge and eternal life. His gracious love that surpasses all that we have done to grieve Him is likely to yet find its joyful and purposeful expression in poetry.  Poetry set to music. Song.

Talking about poetry, I like a definition which I read at this website. Let me quote part of it here:
"Poetry is an imaginative awareness of experience expressed through meaning, sound, and rhythmic language choices so as to evoke an emotional response.... The very nature of poetry as an authentic and individual mode of expression makes it nearly impossible to define."

It is nearly impossible to define. God is fully aware that He loves us despite our terrible misgivings - and expresses His great delight in us in His authentic way. Since it is likely to (and should) evoke an emotional response in us, I believe that God sings songs that we can truly respond to. He sings songs that can resonate with our hearts ~ songs that are relevant and meaningful to the individuals' culture/ethnicity, history, life experiences, etc.

It is perhaps a sort of Lover's Concerto. Between a Bridegroom and His Bride (the Church). But since God is a very personal God, it should also be between God and each true believer.

It seems to me that the love-song that God has been singing into my heart recently has the word "Remember" in its lyrics. A lot.

Thankfulness and contentment have got to do with remembering. I desire to remember... and discover how God has never let me go, even from the day I was born.

Linguistics and missions

There is so much joy in learning a foreign language.

You've got to be brave enough to stammer and stutter to the natives, despite the embarrassment and the risk of being laughed at. You've got to brave the skeptics among your own friends who think that you are just a "wannabe" wasting away your resources of time and money because you want to be cool. And yet, at the end of the day... your patience, perseverance, hard work (and often frustrations) are rewarded. Not merely with a better grasp of the language, but also the fascination and satisfaction of delving deep in the culture of that particular people-group. You learn the nation's history, grow to appreciate the indigenous values, be familiar with their modi operandi, understand the common struggles of the people and empathize with their pains.

It all ends with love. Loving these people whom God Himself loves deeply - and for whom God sent His Son. No wonder it is mandatory for a missionary to learn the language of the people-group to whom he/she is called to reach out. One cannot share God's heart and burden for His people until he/she is ready to identify with them. The most fundamental of communication, corporate prayer, worship and theology are words in one's heart language. How can a missionary identify with the people to whom he/she has been sent by God if he/she cannot understand the people's heart language, and hence their culture? 

If you are a missionary reading this... and are dealing with the frustrations of learning or mastering a foreign language, I really want to encourage you to hang in there... and press on because you are not alone. Difficulties aside, let us see it as a way to honor and yet enjoy God. Perhaps even a spiritual discipline that facilitates spiritual growth, strengthens our character and leads us to God's throne of grace.

Picture source

Flavour

I spent at least 12 years of the earlier part of my life learning music and performing.

It wasn't the kind of childhood that I would have chosen, but my childhood chose me - so to speak. A childhood of constant pressure and competition when it came to stage-work and exams. A childhood of always having to memorize long, 10-paged music scores so that I could internalize every piece and have it performed as a sort of dance whereby my body and soul worked together to express the heart of the song-writer. A childhood of constant awareness - that not only my music was scrutinized by the silent critics but also my life. A childhood... and half of my adolescent years of listening to instrumental, classical and jazz music instead of your typical pop-songs. I never had pop-idols - I think I was more knowledgeable of the lives of classical composers from the ancient times than any contemporary pop-star in my time. It became even more awkward when my own peers at school were going gaga over posters and MTV. And so, my nickname at school was Capsule-girl. Cute as it sounded, the implications were lonely. (I used to have crushes on guys who thought of me as a mere naive little girl too!)

It was a childhood nobody really knew I had. Everyone knew me as the shy, quiet and nerdy student in school... or the gymnast (because I used to be very active in the sport)... or perhaps the chubby girl who thought that she was good enough to be dance (not that I was that chubby - but the other kids thought that I was). When it came to my involvement in music, I never thought that it was worth mentioning. My childhood ambitions had nothing to do with music. When my mom asked me if I wanted to become a music teacher ever, I told her, "NEVER!"

This kind of childhood chose me. Not solely by my parents' will, but ultimately by God's sovereignty, it chose me. I rebelled against it for a while (after failing one of my music exams), during my late teens. Quit music school and playing music for a good 3 years or so. Of course, my eating disorders took a toll on my former interests - and I didn't find myself drawn to music as I used to be. However, I became a Christian - and since then God has been leading me back to music again. Not merely to be performed - but as a true passion. Serving God as a pianist brought me to enjoy making the music without feeling like I need to impress anyone; it not only brought healing to wounds but it made me stronger too. Think of it this way - what I can I give to God that He doesn't already have? What is my music compared to the breath-taking symphonies of nature? What have I played that nobody else has not played for Him? Nothing... and yet, He has given me the privilege to serve the King of kings - to bring my insufficient and incomplete personal offerings to Him. 

Nevertheless ~ my foundations have raised me up to be an extremely insecure (and sensitive) person when it comes to performing. Naturally, I get very nervous before performances (to the extent that I sometimes jinx myself) and I am never quite satisfied after a performance because I feel that I could have done better. Any person's comment would be unconsciously analyzed for the element of criticism and even encouragement can be a source of discouragement. These not only make me tired - but I tear myself down further and fuel my low self-esteem. I have no idea how good (or how bad) I really am. There is nothing in particular that I can take pride in (because everyone else seems to be doing the same stuff).

Having said that, I wish that I would and could discover my own flavour. I don't want to be prideful and gloat over any musician for that matter - because honestly, you can't compare any two musicians. Styles would differ for one thing. However, I want to know God's purpose for me as a musician. I don't have to play at the Carnegie Hall, but I want to know what is it in my music that is able to make a difference in the lives of people. After-all, if it is a sovereign gift from God, I want to know the depths, width, length and height of this gift - and its true potential to even change the world the tiniest bit. Not for myself, but for the God who brought every meaning to my short life on the earth.

This is a journey that I want to wholeheartedly traverse.

The Hope of Your glory

A new heart-song inspired by God in the past week, whilst I was in one of those "pit-stops":


The Love...that cried out upon a cross
The Love...faith in whom gives me peace
I could count all my earthly gain as loss
for the surpassing worth
of knowing You, my Love...
I need to know You

The Love...whose voice stirs my heart
The Love... from whom I can't live apart
Can there be healing without a wound?
Yet You were pierced...
so I could be whole,
and found in You, my Love

The mystery of God
revealed in Word made flesh
...in a poetry of Love
where eternal life was won in death...

Jesus, 
Keep my eyes on You...
Keep my heart tender
that I may yet tremble
in the wonder of knowing 
Your Love...
Help my unbelief
Help me to receive
Your Love
that I may know 
the hope of Your glory,
my Lord.... Jesus

In the moment of need, a chance to know
To know my God's power to seize the day
In trials and despair,
when I'm tempted to run away
Lord, give me the strength to stay...

Sometimes... I won't understand
Sometimes... I won't appreciate
When my heart is grieved and my spirit bitter,
senseless I protest
Let go not of my hand...

The mystery of God
revealed in Word made flesh
...in a poetry of Love
where eternal life was won in death...

 Jesus, 
Keep my eyes on You...
Keep my heart tender
that I may yet tremble
in the wonder of knowing 
Your Love...
Help my unbelief
Help me to receive
Your Love
that I may know 
the hope of Your glory,
my Lord... Jesus

And the moment I choose
these battles to face
is the moment I taste
Your overflowing grace
My flesh and my heart may fail
but You're my strength
and my portion
forever...

Jesus, 
Keep my eyes on You...
Keep my heart tender
that I may yet tremble
in the wonder of knowing 
Your Love...
Help my unbelief
Help me to receive
Your Love
that I may know 
the hope of Your glory,
my Lord...
Jesus

I Wish

A song written in memory of my late mother. Also Uncle Ray (Cynthia's dad) who just passed away yesterday.

You were leaving
I tried to hold on...
But you were leaving
and now you are gone
I remember that day
You didn't get to say goodbye
Did you know deep down inside
You were going away?

To a place where I can't reach
When will I see you again
Our moments of laughter now seem too few
I really miss you...

I wish... I've said that I love you more
I wish... you could hear this song
I wish... you could see me now
and know I'm getting along...
I wish... I could see your smile again
To feel the warmth of your hands,
I wish... I wish...
Even it's too late, I wish you were here right now.

You made my world beautiful
the happiest it could be
You taught me to love and to give
You believed in me...
At every milestone,
you cheered me on
Just when I was brave enough to stand on my own
and then you were gone...

...to a place where I can't reach
When will I see you again?
Our moments of laughter now seem too few
I really miss you...

I wish... I've said that I love you more
I wish... you could hear this song
I wish... you could see me now
and know I'm getting along...
I wish I could see your smile again
to feel the warmth of your hand
I wish... I wish...
Even it's too late, I wish you were here right now.

Save me

I can't bear this feeling in my heart
I don't even know where to start
I need Your hand, come and save me
Let everything be all right
God, make the ocean part...

Like a child who's lost his way
I'm crying, but my feet still stray
I need Your hand, come and lead me
Let me not walk alone
God, to You I pray...

Show me Your mercy
Coz You know I can't help myself
Show me Your grace
I can turn to nobody else
Let me know Your love
that drives away all fears,
hold my hand...
and save me, Lord... save me.

Wednesday

Wow. Can't believe that it has been a week since the Acheh earthquake. How time flies!

I've got a class presentation due next week... and I haven't really prepared for it yet. I'm leaving it to the later half of the week because I have got other stuff to do.

Have been playing the piano quite a bit in the past few days (come to think of it, the motivation for it has returned after a break) - chapel-related as well as chapel-unrelated. One day, I played till there were blisters on the tips of my fingers - and usually I never get them. I've not experienced this kind of "after-effect" for quite some time already. Can't remember the last time I did. Not the nicest sensation of course - but my spirit felt really lifted up. I did have fun... enjoyed the challenges too. It is during such times God's presence is the most tangible to me. I knew He was there... cheering me on as a father would at his son's baseball game; inspiring me through His Holy Spirit; laughing with me at the sound of "good music" as well as that of the many "wrong" or rather out-of-box notes; encouraging me to try new things; helping me to coordinate my hands; etc. I felt His love... the security of a child in her Father's presence... the eagerness to push beyond my usual limitations, explore the boundaries of form and style, try new things, be creative, etc... because I knew that if I fell, He would somehow catch me. It was work and yet play. Play and yet a spiritual discipline in many ways. Spiritual discipline and ultimately worship. 

Perhaps the next to return would be my song-writing kick. If God wills. Apart from Him, I can do nothing ~ but it's really fine with me.... coz then, I am less likely to get conceited! :)

Had dinner with Rachel this evening. Poor zombified little lamb. I felt and looked and sounded like a mother-sheep. *BAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaa....*

Hehe. Love you, Rach.

Studying the Book of Philippians for the second time since Dr. Lawson's class. Since it's a personal study this time, it has been even more impacting. God's Word is indeed alive and exciting.

Insanely good :)

Totally enjoyed this version of Paul Baloche's "Your Name". While the style is beautifully refreshing, I appreciate that  the jazz pianist and vocalist did not do too much "Ad-lib"/improvisation on the song that could have caused it to lose its original essence. It's amazing how diverse God's gifts are. Even gifted musicians are unique to their expression of their gifts. Put together, they perfect the under-side of God's tapestry of music ministry. And God, in His adequacy, will subsequently bring out the tapestry's glory - and delight in it. God, make me a musician that brings you glory with all of my authenticity, Your gifts and most importantly the aroma of Christ - the fragrance of death and yet hope to others. Grant me the grace that I might pour myself out fully to exalt Your name in the area of music ~ and by doing so, find the utmost joy and fulfillment. May my music always bring You delight. Amen.

Breakthrough

In the past year or so, I've felt myself rot away with regards to music. Figuratively and almost literally.

Not many new songs, no fresh chords and I was getting too familiar with certain styles. Bored with jazz at times, even while I have always loved it. Sometimes, it pained me to listen to brilliant compositions and arrangements of other musicians/composers ~ because while they wowed me good, they also made me wonder: "What's wrong with ME?" Yeah, a little self-centered by the sound of it ~ but I was seriously worried. Did God leave me? I couldn't work a gift on my own, even if I were to try my best. Furthermore, through some stretches of my 2011 journey, I got dry spiritually - felt like I was wearing dri-fit instead of my armor of God! This aggravated my condition, like um... scratching your eczematous rash over unmoisturized skin on a blistering hot day in Penang. My fingers seemed to have died some kind of tragic death - not physically of course, but they just felt like 2 bunches of bananas dancing clumsily upon the shiny keys of the beautiful instrument.  I was so ready to throw in the towel and give up. As you can imagine, I was depressed all the time. Low self-esteem kicked in; I began comparing myself to other pianists I knew - and these seemed to cripple my playing even further.

Anyway, since the year turned 2012, and I entered my 4th year in MBTS ~ certain changes happened; I began more than anything to learn how to live by God's grace and not my own effort. And guess what?!? My music went through some face-lift (I don't know how to explain it better) - in the past 2 days, I could really worship God while I played; neither cared too much of what my fingers were doing nor tried hard to sound good. BUT, the music sounded absolutely divine ~ especially when I was alone! It wasn't even my music. My soul was so stirred; my fingers spontaneous. I could just play on and on for hours and not notice the time passing by. While the skills I already possess provided a  good frame, I felt God graciously lift me beyond my limitations. So liberated; so recharged; so inspired; so awed by the experiences of God using my fingers as His instruments for masterpieces. And the thing is... I don't think that I will ever be able to fully transcribe into a manuscript what went on in between God, my piano and myself. Never.

It has been a breakthrough for me. In the retrospective, I am thankful that God made me wait in my brokenness. Indeed, I've seen His perfect strength in my weaknesses.

Going back to my First Love ~ Jesus; yes, Lord. Let it be so. Amen.

Sermon over, project completed

*Relieved sighhhhhhhh*

Phew. What a week. I had too many sleepless nights, fussing over my biblical interpretation and sermon. As usual, I had to be weird and choose stuff that nobody was going to preach about. Well, don't get me wrong - I did not intend to be weird and different when I was at it - but in the end, I realized and regretted not choosing something less "different". *Facepalm* Thank God everything is completed! Dr. Lawson gave me very constructive comments on my preaching; really treasure them, since I now know how to preach better the next time. Also, all glory be unto the Lord for the encouragements I received for my sermon-crafting. I really had FUN writing the sermon ~ even while struggling, crying, lamenting and praying over it. It is probably because I truly enjoy stringing words together, integrating illustrations and tapping into Holy Spirit-inspired creativity in order to make the messages stand out and yet bite-sized. When I do that, I feel FREE. I feel fully alive in God.

I have yet to find that in preaching. :P Maybe I might. Maybe never. Even though I never wanted to preach before, I'm now learning to stay open to it. Perhaps, I might like it better in the future.

I came home after preaching yesterday ~ and played my piano like never before! :P Wow... It was like reconnecting with a long-lost dear friend. My fingers never felt better landing squarely on the smooth keys. The music just resonated with every part of me. Truly enjoyed it. Somehow, I always find music a means of God's grace to me. Perhaps, God speaks through music's tender caresses to my soul. And so, I think of Him and wonder.

Now to get on with March's projects: Korean, Medical, Writing, Baptist Studies, Spiritual formation and Singapore (in no particular order).

One Moment In Time

We all know this Emmy Award-winning song. Well, most of us in my generation and up, at least. Composed by Albert Hammond and John Bettis, it was first sung by Whitney Houston in the 1988 Summer Olympics and Paralympics at Seoul, South Korea.

I was introduced to "One Moment In Time" (OMIT) when I was 5 or 6... by one of my music teachers, Donna Lee. It came in a precious cassette which I still keep and play in my car up till today (yeah, call me lau beh...I don't mind). As a young aspiring musician back then, I fell in love with the song because of how brilliantly the chord sequence, musical dynamics and style teamed up in concert with the lyrics to convey the song's rich meaning. Growing up, I began to realize how much this song uncannily captures the rhythm of my heartbeat, my deepest desires and wildest dreams. Before and now, I have sung along to OMIT as if it were an expression of my own heart; a prayer even... and so, I never fail to cry singing it - even more so now. I must say that the composers really did an awesome job of OMIT.

Why did I blog about this song? Well, it was played over the radio today while I was driving and depressed (actually I was really depressed since the previous night - but I'll save that for another blog post). I felt as if God was comforting me while I listened to the words - that He indeed knows my heart and loves the fact that I want to be the best form and version of what He has created me to be. Such a timely bit of comfort too... I cried but felt much better after that. Dear God, thank You.

Picture source

Here are the lyrics. Enjoy!

Each day I live
I want to be
A day to give
the best of me
I'm only one
but not alone
My finest day
is yet unknown

I broke my heart
Fought every gain
To taste the sweet
I face the pain
I rise and fall
Yet through it all
this much remains...

I want one moment in time
When I'm more than I thought I could be
When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away
and the answers are all up to me
Give me one moment in time
when I'm racing with destiny
Then in that one moment of time
I will feel
I will feel eternity

I've lived to be
the very best
I want it all
No time for less
I've laid the plans
now lay the chance
here in my hands

Give me one moment in time
When I'm more than I thought I could be
When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away
And the answers are all up to me
Give me one moment in time
When I'm racing with destiny
Then in that one moment of time
I will feel
I will feel eternity

You're a winner for a lifetime
If you seize that one moment in time
Make it shine

Give me one moment in time
When I'm more than I thought I could be
When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away
And the answers are all up to me
Give me one moment in time
When I'm racing with destiny
Then in that one moment of time
I will be
I will be
I will be free
I will be
I will be free