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profile Walking by faith is something easy to say, but hard to do especially when things don't go as planned. But we try all the same, and I'm no exception. This blog is in some ways cathartic, in others a means for me to pen my thoughts and struggles as I walk this life and learn to trust God more with each passing day. tag archives May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 friends and credits skin by: Jane |
Saturday, June 27, 2009 @ 11:45 PM
neda A shot, she collapses. The people rush toward her body and shout her name; her eyes open wide in shock and swivel round, once, twice. Hands scramble to keep her awake, she chokes, and then - blood, so much blood gushes out from her face. Her nose, her mouth, her ears have blood flowing out of them... and she stops breathing. It was injustice magnified. After seeing the video for myself I stared into space for a moment, in quiet shock at the sheer ludicrity of it all. I ran a google search on her name, and she is now a matyr of some sort, who even has a page on Wikipedia dedicated to her. The whole world seems to be sitting on an edge, waiting to see how fiercely the protestors retaliate to the tyranny of the Iranian authorities. But what unsettled me the most was the fact that Neda was an ordinary girl. An ordinary person, just like me and you. She reminds me to be grateful for the safety of the Singapore streets. But even more so, she provokes me to step out of my little cocoon of comfort, and fight. It is uncanny, how a short clip like that can invoke that much emotion. Thursday, June 18, 2009 @ 10:43 AM
stop shortsuffering If there is one thing that makes my heart accelerate a bit faster and the blood heat up, it is when promises made to me are broken. At the outset I seem to have every right to be irritated, but if the breaking is due to seemingly valid reasons, should I keep feeling lousy? All of us have either been perpetrators, or victims of promise-breaking in one way or another. I say I'll be there at 3pm, then at 2pm I say my baby brother needs babysitting and so I can't be there at 3pm. 'Sorry...Let's meet another time.' And so that 'another time' becomes the redeeming phrase, the postponed appointment. Nothing wrong with that. It wasn't until this holiday when I have had the opportunity to take a real break, and build better relationships that I came to realise that my threshold for things like that isn't as high as I thought. Very unusually, I have been a pangseh victim for a record number times in the last three weeks or so. It's as if my patience is being put to a new test all over again, and every time a next friend/family does it, it takes a kind of renewed strength to say, 'It's okay.' and meaning what I say. Not too long ago, I was alone thinking to myself and partly reeling from a series of such episodes, the actors being different persons close to me each time. As small a matter it might have been objectively, collectively the events had my heart pressed to a corner, wanting to just scream 'I've had enough!' and hide in a cave after that. Then a still, small voice spoke. Love suffers long and is kind. 'HUH? How am I supposed to do that?' And just when I thought my capacity to love cannot get any greater, God has challenged me over and over again this holiday, to do so to people whom at first sight have their faces scream 'I'm undeserving!'; family and friends who unwittingly cross the lines I assumed I could shut an eye to easily - all of this underscoring one truth: for Him to have asked His Son to carry the heavy cross that bore the weight of our sin must have taken a love that is so gracious. It is a love that I cannot comprehend, even until now. Monday, June 08, 2009 @ 10:53 PM
'I don't need a saviour.' I'm happy, I'm doing what I like, my family's stable, I have a boyfriend/girlfriend, life's good. Why do I need an extra committment like God? I'm good where I am; I don't kill, rape or murder - I lead an upright, decent life. That should be enough for me. Is it really enough for you? The Bible says that all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God. In other words, leading an upright, decent life by our own strength very often isn't enough to wipe away the stubborn stain of sin upon each of us. I say that, even with the acknowledgement of the fact that my life before knowing God wasn't bad. In fact, it wasn't even neutral. It was good. I was doing okay in school; my parents loved me and I knew that; I even won some prize for good conduct in secondary school. 'Ah, yes... Xiaohui is a good girl.' - typical commentary by the relatives who came over to visit every now and then. But noone else knew the thoughts that I had then, thoughts that occupied my mind though I consciously seldom let them control the way I behaved. Often, jealousy and envy raged when qian, or even close girlfriends of mine got compliments when I didn't. Against my parents were words that cut deep, whenever I didn't get from them what I wanted. Told lies many, many times to escape sticky situations I was afraid to face. The list goes on. Yet perhaps the worst feeling was that of guilt... knowing that I was less than a perfect person, and having no way of redeeming myself apart from repeated self-rationalising, that it was okay, I am only human, humans make mistakes... and as long as I learn from them, it is alright. But it wasn't alright. I was tired of putting on a facade that hid the darker thoughts which filled my mind. And I was afraid, somehow, that I would sometime down the road pay for what I've done. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. If this gift were real, I wanted it. Try as I might, I couldn't deny that my apparent uprightedness was a mere front - I needed someone greater, to help me to become real about my weaknesses, and to overcome. I needed a saviour who could take away the guilt I felt so often. I needed to know what I was made to do with every breath I'm taking. We do need Him, no matter how good a life we're leading on our own. Wednesday, June 03, 2009 @ 4:16 PM
the june chronicles #1  On qian's urging we rented this movie to watch, and boy oh boy. I declare we are Wing Chun enthusiasts now and long to fight the dark side to save the dignity of our beloved country. Or family. Or whatever. Just let us fight. *does the starting kungfu move*My favourite part? When the Japanese General asked for Master Ip's name, and he replied as a matter-of-fact, '我只是一个中国人'. At that moment my heart was full of patriotism - that's odd - I don't exactly hail from China, but my Chinese roots certainly felt so... alive when he said that. Okay, okay... this is just a movie but come on, can't a girl dream she can save her fellowmen from the bad guys, just like how this Master Ip did? Swing palms to the left, swipe fists to the right, elbow shove to the centre, and BAM the bully falls flat at the force of my roundhouse kick. Come back to reality, xh. Sigh. This June, I am relatively free. I say relative, because most friends are either interning, or travelling, or are occupied with serious stuff on the weekdays while I am generally... not occupied. Which explains the movie! Movies, actually. ;) Books, too. Lately I found two good ones in the library: one's a literary adaptation of John's story in the Bible and the other, somewhat like a reflection of The Time Traveller's Wife, one of my all-time favourite novels. While picking up one to read by the BBC (Big Black Couch) a couple of days ago, I suddenly had a sense of deja vu - as if I'm picking up something I used to do a lot, before the other things kinda took over... There is also the Give Proper English Tuition to Sister plan that will kick start (formally, officially, finally) this weekend. Maybe the Learning to Cook idea will be revived, for fear that the Mother might nag at me being a lousy housewife in the future. In the long future, I tell her. It scares a twenty year old to know that she has to don an apron, whip up a meal, give her husband a massage and put the kids to sleep, anytime soon. While I am young... there is still much action to be part of. I want to serve my generation, and this June it is time to figure out just how I can go about doing it. Lazybones, that seductive aquaintance, better not get over me. |