Unforgettable Concert

Grace, myself, Crystal and Ivy - at the concert

So there I was, waiting outside the KLCC (Convention Centre) entrance, straining my eyes to make sure I don't miss the royal car when it arrives. Never mind that it was raining cats and dogs, and the sheets of rain pelting at the headlights made it impossible to read the car number plates.

I was all dolled up and on my toes. Ready to spring into action when the Tengku Puteri (Princess) and her husband step out of their car.

My job for the evening was to escort their majesties for the evening at the royal charity concert, which was held alongside the birthday of the Sultan of Selangor.

Other than making sure the Tengku Puteri (Sultan's sister), Tengku Zatasha (Sultan's daughter) AND their spouses were seated correctly according to protocol, I had to memorise their routes inside the building, and the timing at which they would arrive. On top of that, they had separate seating arrangements in the VIP holding room, banquet halls and concert hall. *sweat* However, trying to memorise their names takes the cake. I don't think I had to cram in so much info in such limited time since studying law in college.

That was the ugh part.

The yay part was that the Princess and her husband (who happens to be the younger brother of the previous Agung -King)were among the friendliest and chattiest people I have met. They initiated conversation about the weather, concert crowds and of course.... Malaysian traffic!

Nice people.

So, as I was waiting on them, I had a thought.

It takes so much planning, detail and attention just to get ready to greet the royal family of a state in Malaysia. And truly so, we should accord them the highest honour as rulers of the land. What then, should our attitude be when we get ready to meet the King of kings?

My friend says "God doesn't have protocols for us." While that is true, I think we have generally lost the sense of awe, reverence and anticipation. We had - not that it is entirely bad - become too familiar with the God of the Universe.

Another friend commented that I wear crocs to church (being too casual). What he did not realise was, I would have worn crocs to the royal concert too, if not for the vehement protests of those around me.

What now? Do we dress up for church?

I do not have a fixed conclusion on this matter. This is part of a continuing search to know the character of God, of which I feel, where relationship matters most. In the words of St Augustine... "Love God and do as you please."



All this happened at the "Unforgettable" Konsert Amal DiRaja with Sean Ghazi, Estee and Eugene Pok with the KL Festival Symphony Orchestra in Kuala Lumpur, on 15th Nov 2009.

Lazy Discipline

I came back from Chiangmai a wreck. Actually correction: I arrived and departed Chiangmai a wreck.

During my 8 days in the old capital of Thailand, I slept a grand total of 3 nights and stayed up the rest of the nights engaged in er - confrontation of sorts (We'll get into that later). Suffice to say that I was really exhausted when I hit the KL airport last Thursday. So tired I slept 3 days in a row. I did manage to wake up and get to church on Sunday though.

Now I am supposed to get cracking on some stories... and preparation for bible classes this weekend.

I wish (I really do) that I could wake up every morning raring to dig into study books, fired-up to pray and immerse myself in bible truths. Truth is, discipline is so darned hard. I've gotta make myself do it, and sometimes (most times!) I've gotta admit... it adds up to a really lame effort on my part. And it doesn't help when James says those who teach are held to greater accountability. Great motivation, huh?

So it really encourages me to watch my friend. She, in my estimation, is one of the sharper tools in the shed of the Word. She lives simply (the downward-mobile type), takes care of her ageing mom, is all passionate about missions and has no pretense about her. She is like a "sifu"... I would throw her a question and the answer, even though not new, boomerangs back with a profound ring to it. She's also an excellent bible teacher. And 60.

So, in the mornings and evenings when I switch on the pc and stare at the thick books next to it, I am comforted by the fact that my friend has gone through a similar pile, perhaps even higher. And when I realise how she still goes through the rigourous discipline of self-study, yet makes it seem so effortless, I see an art form mastered with the help of the Spirit, cradled by the passage of time.

I am learning.


.

Month of Fat

I love August.

Lots of good things happen in the eight month of the Gregorian calendar. The weather is mild, peak season is over, it is summer in most places, it is the Malaysian national day... and it happens to be the time of my annual month-long feeding frenzy!!!!!!!!

Heh heh heh heh... the eating spree officially started yesterday at Chilli's in Bangsar. Kian Leong, Su Fong, Lai Peng and I had a blast... we are all kinda nutty to start with anyways. The food was great, the company was excellent and of course, there was plenty of laughter around the table... we had a great time!

Already the bookings are piling up. Weekends are the most popular. Thanks to my move to Wangsa Maju, the only time my friends can meet me is over the weekend. So that means I 'll be working on shedding off some weekend fat. But.. who cares? Heap on the fats!!! Oh yeaaaaah.

Like a Baby

How does a weaning baby feel?

Don't know. Too distant a memory. I had been reading up all the baby weaning and teething issues I can get my hands on, thanks to some advertorials I am writing. To my surprise, there are plenty to learn. For instance, if baby holds her head up and starts to smack her lips and click her tongue, you know she's interested in what you have in your hand. Or when she grabs your finger and chews, chew, chews. Or when she drools enough to fill a swimming pool.

Enough said, teething can be very distressing for baby as the teeth pushes out from the gums and produces pressure. Many remedies are available - teething rings, teething rusks, teething gels, cold apple wedges... but none I suspect is as effective as the cuddles, hugs and the huge arms of a loving mom to soothe away all the pain.

Psalm 131 is short. At only three verses, this passage looks like a filler of some sort (compare it to the humongous Psalm 119). Just as fillers are full of dense material (ask your friendly dentist or the collagen expert), Psalm 131 is simple, yet it fills you up nicely, if you get what it means.

Along with Psalms 122, 124 and 133, Psalm 131 is part of a medley of four songs. In particular, it is a song of simple trust sung by David.

The part that grabs me is verse 2. It says "Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul, Like a weaned child with his mother, Like a weaned child is my soul within me."

OK, in all truth, I don't think David remembered what it felt like to be a weaned child when he wrote this song. But he must have felt a comfort and contentedness beyond all he could describe, and there were no words to explain it - just like a gurgling baby who can't speak of the wonders of the mother's love but can undoubtedly feel it!

Parenting experts say that it is a good practice to let baby explore and have a variety of tastes and sensations in their tongue - so they will not grow up to be fussy eaters. This applies to when the baby is teething too, and when he is uncomfortable, irritable and when mealtimes can be an adventure! The mother will gently and patiently persuade baby to accept what is being fed. Even if it takes weeks. A wise mom would not give only sweet stuff to baby, no matter how the baby longs for it!

And for us, why should life be only confined to sweet things? Don't the bitter, sour, spicy, uncomfortable, unlikeable stuff also contribute to our own good if it is fed from a Loving Hand?

A weaning baby who trusts the hand that feeds her will accept and smile while she swallows. A child who simply trusts in the Almighty is so firmly anchored in hope that he can sleep like a baby in the midst of life's storms and difficulties.


Lord my heart is not haughty, nor my eyes lofty
Neither do I concern myself with great matters
Nor with things too profound for me

Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul
Like a weaned child with his mother
Like a weaned child is my soul within me

Oh Israel, hope in the Lord
From this time forth and forever

Dull Food

Ever waited at a restaurant known for good food... only to be disappointed? I know that feeling. My family went to New Paris in SS2 recently, a neighbourhood restaurant known for its delicious food and reasonable prices. We eagerly anticipated the arrival of the Captain's reccomendations - steamed grouper, marmite ribs, fried veggies, tofu with minced pork and bittergourd braised chicken.

The dishes arrived looking like they had been precooked and microwaved. My dad immediately pointed out the telltale signs - cold plates and there was no smoke emanating from the dishes! We finished the food, but could definitely say that the experience had been a tepid affair. Wonder how the cook would have felt if we have made a complaint. But we were just too polite and continued swallowing.

Today, more than others, I felt that the students in the bible class were swallowing too. I do not know if they understood what had been taught. It started with them all being anticipative at the beginning (they even took notes during a little icebreaker word game!) However, I felt the lesson nosedived for some reason. Just one of those days... and I really felt like a chef who has let the diners down. That despite the preparation and prayers throughout the week, the hours spent thinking about it, not to mention the sleepless night caused by it!

Such is human evaluation.

I m glad God just expects me to be faithful and not a super-skilled chef all the time.

Really Scoring

This particular tune has been ringing in my head for the past two days. In fact, it would spring on me so unexpectedly that I would start humming without realising it. Like the vocals kinda launched spiraling into auto cruise.

Of course I am referring to the catchy, adrenalin-filled John Williams' rendition of Indiana Jones' theme song. Has there ever been a tune so filled with adventure, anticipation, humour and promise?

My first real memory of the Indy trilogy was the Temple of Doom. The car chases with Short Round at the wheel, the sexy Capshaw singing on stage... "la la la la... Anything goes!" and the gory scene where the evil priest (Mola Ram?) reached his hand into a human sacrifice and pulled out a beating, pumping heart (ugh).

That was the first time I heard of an Indian goddess named Kali, the first time I flirted with the idea of becoming an archeologist, and to cut it short, the first time I saw a hero who was so close to home - beaten, bruised, flawed... and yet still a hero nonetheless.

It was a time where everything was possible... if you can only imagine it. I watched the movie nine times on the old VHS tape... and lost count how many re-runs it had seen in the ensuing years. By then, I was ready to digest Raiders of the Lost Ark and despite the latter being a better-made film, Temple has always held a special position in my heart. One year later, I was dressed to the nines and off to tea dances (at 4pm on Saturdays!) Friends had these cheesy autograph books where there was a list of favourite things one had to disclose. Everyone's favourite movie included Indiana Jones and Return of the Jedi or Grease II. It was Lucas' decade, soon to be Spielberg's.

So, after almost 20 years, Williams' score still tugs at the emo strings. At least for this former wannabe archeologist. OK, so I didn't find an exotic tribe and stop a cult sacrifice... but I sure did have some pretty awesome adventures in my own right, thanks to the hero who grew up with me, and taught me "So what? Everyone gets beaten one time or another."

Good to have you back, Uncle Jones!

Taking Heart

Blessed are the undefiled in the way,
Who walk in the law of the Lord!
Blessed are those who keep His testimonies,
Who seek Him with the whole heart!
Psalm 119:1,2 NKJV



Whole heart? "Whole"? OK, for the sake of splitting hairs, the New International Version and New American Standard say "all your heart". The King James is a stickler for the terms whole, complete, entire.

To be honest, who knows what goes on inside the human heart? Other than it being deceitful amongst all things, the seat of affections and the compass that veers a person throughout life? Many things keep the heart running, so to speak - joys, fears, ambition, hopes, dreams, disappointments, anger, etc. And to sum it... a person is the sum of all there is in his heart...

It is so easy to thank God when things are going well, when things are looking good study or career-wise, when family is showing each other love and consideration, when you have plenty left over in your bank account. When your kids make choices that bring joy and glow to your being. When despite hardship and suffering, you see value in your investment.

It is not so easy to be grateful when all those things are non-existent and you cannot see even half a step ahead of you. It is definitely not fun to be lost, destitute, purposeless, or worse... wandering in the wasteland of hope deferred. If anything could exact the cruelty of a slow execution, this has gotta be it. A gradual chipping away of the soul leaving a vacant shell of a body in its wake. Talk about the Living Dead.

Anyways.

The Psalmist said those who enjoy blessing are those who had given God their entire heart, warts and all. Like... he wasn't talking about sifting through the heart's contents and presenting only the choice parts, you know... keep the ugly bits under wraps since they are slimy muck (as if God could not handle such things). He said to give God the whole, entire, complete heart. No holds barred. Who would not shudder at the thought of being totally naked before God, stripped to the core, vulnerable, raw and defenceless?

No wonder we put up all kinds of fronts - rebellion, ignorance, triviality, apathy, or worse, a religious veneer to gloss over the obvious shortfall. I had been guilty of those things, although not in that order. All this in vain hope that God will pass by my weaknesses and let me be.

And God, being God, would not allow the defect to fester. Really, it is soooo hard to give God the entire heart. And unlock those hidden little chambers which hold on to their sordid little desires and secrets. Secrets too precious to be given away. But the blessed soul knows. Knows that no matter how deep the fear of violation, the freedom that ensues is more than enough to cover, restore and renew.

Perhaps too much has been said about the Six-Inch Journey from the head to the heart. Time to put some feet into those words and chalk up more mileage on the proverbial longest trip for man.

One Tragedy Less Would be Good

"How long have we been brothers?" Zilong (Andy Lau), the title character in the movie Three Kingdoms :Resurrection of the Dragon, asked his sworn brother Ping-An (Sammo Hung). "Thirty-two years and four months" was the reply. That was more than half of Zilong's lifetime. Albeit being one of the legendary 5 generals of the formidable Shu Kingdom in ancient China, Zilong was not mentioned in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. That aside, the film was true to its literary depiction of the Shu Kingdom as the protagonist.

The film began and ended with Zilong and Ping-An, chronicling their fateful first encounter to the battleground where one met his valiant end while the other assumed greatness by proxy. Their lives, though panned out differently, had one thing in common - both had come full circle and ended up where they started. They spent the better half of their lives fighting for a cause, only to find very little reason to do so at the end.

Such are tragedies made of.

I had some hard thinking to do too. After spending 6 years living for a cause, have I come full circle? All that I wanted was to have a family growing and maturing in the ways of God. Maybe I was too hopeful. Or maybe I had heaped too much expectations on myself and on them. Maybe I had played God too many a time. Maybe I need to release them all to Him and move on with life. Maybe.

Ecclesiates tell us that life is meaningless apart from God. Do I need to plunge the depths of futility to understand what that means? Or... maybe I can simply fear and love God, obey His commandments... and set out like a junior Augustine... do whatever I like?

Don't know. But the world certainly don't need another tragedy.

Too Many Eggs

A couple years ago, a health shop opened on the row of shops across the street from my house. It was an instant hit with the residents, especially since they were dishing out freebies every few hours after their organised health talks were over. If you had ever been a victim of these sales gimmicks, you would know that it was really a cheap way of ensuring a crowd. The topics ranged from age-defying tactics to relationship boosting methods, peddled by young, enegetic speakers duking it out with very loud background music!

My dad was a frequent visitor to the talks. One day he came back from the shop and announced, "Everyone quickly! Get to the shop now coz they are giving out a carton of fresh eggs to everyone who attends!" Needless to say, every breathing soul in the house - my parents, the maid, myself and even my then 5-year old niece - darted across the street to secure our seats.

We spent 30minutes listening to a sales pitch. Then returned home with enough eggs to last us for months, since we don't usually eat a lot of them to start with. We realised we've created a storage problem. The eggs will go bad before we can finish them. In our greed and haste, we failed to see the consequences of our actions. We just hoarded. My memory gets fuzzy at this point, but I think we gave most of our eggs away, and even had to beg some people to receive them!

Sadly, in that sense we were not that different from the infamous children of Israel who grumbled, moaned and complained in the desert; as described in Exodus Chapter 16.
And when God miraculously provided food from heaven, the first thing they did (despite specific instructions to the contrary from God) was to - you've guessed it - hoard!

Sure, the need to acquire and possess more helps assuage the fear of insecurity. Who doesn't want some measure of security... savings, property, investments.... ? All these are good stuff, given by God. However, the unhealthy emphasis on good stuff can often distort our perspective of the true value of things. And life. Especially when it edges into our priorities unnoticed.

The Israelites' greed revealed a blatant failure to trust the God who had rescued and provided for them all these while. Either they thought God was unable, or unwilling to. My eggs incident may seem miniscule compared to the problems of the Israelites, but they are certainly in the same basket! The familiar ugly traits of unbelief, over-indulgence and reluctance to live in daily dependance are all evident, being thrown into the mix for good measure.



Too many things, God, compete for our love and trust in You. Help la... help us understand that submission to Your will should always take priority over our immediate needs. It was a lesson to the Israelites, let it be a less severe lesson for us.

Just Another Breakfast...?

Expect the unexpected.

Such a well-worn phrase. Happens to be the story of my life too.

This morning I woke up early and went to the wet market. Then, as I sat down to have breakfast, I ran into an acquaintance whom I had not seen in 13 years. We recognised each other instantly, but for the life of me, I could not recall her name. She sat down at my table and both of us simmered in pretend mode - each trying to out-wait the other asking for identification.

Our conversation centered around small talk - her family, my family, who's doing what, where, etc etc. Then somehow the dialogue veered towards the gap years between 1997 - 2001 and I inadvertently shared my testimony.

She sat and listened, her eyes welling up with tears as I recounted how my parents came to the Lord. She appeared visibly moved and was wiping her eyes. Just before going our separate ways, we exchanged numbers (and names!). Whether we would keep in touch remains to be seen, but this incident really reminded me of one thing I keep putting off - I have to get going on writing the memoir... and preferably before I become senile too.

Sigh.

Retreat Journal 5

Day 5 (Dec 31)

9.00am - wokeup & breakfast

9.30am - reading

11.00m - cleanup

11.30am - talk to Crys

1.00pm - Lunch

Things are winding down on the last day of my self-imposed retreat. All things unchanged, I have reached a decision. I am not going to Colorado Springs. I gotta write to tell the missions organisation that they can stop talking to their lawyers and accountants, stop working on the work permit, and stop making queries to the US immigration and Malaysian US Consulate. And they can keep the company car too. In a way I feel bad I have to tell them this - what a damper on all the buildup over the past few weeks.

But I believe it is the right decision.

CONCLUSION
The basis of the decision did not hinge upon the cost of going, where the funds would come from, whether my health could take it, how much I would be "missed" by family and friends, or any personal cost of such a move. I guess I am never much of a practical person when it comes to these details.

The sole basis of my decision is the belief that God has called me to study and teach His word. I am not called to any geographical location nor to any particular people. I am just called to be faithful in doing what I feel is of most importance right now. And despite being fortunate enough to have been gifted in several areas, I see the most valuable and critical contribution in studying, teaching and expounding doctrine of instruction to body of believers. It hasn't been so clear until now.

So I will stay and continue to freelance and also integrate witness and work. And trust a trustworthy God Who provided and continues to do so.

Retreat Journal 4

Day 4 (30 Dec)

7.45am - Wokeup

8.30am - Swimming

9.40am - Breakfast (leftover noodles from previous dinner)

10.15am - Leave for church

1.00pm thereabouts - Lunch

5.15pm - Returned from long lunch

6.20pm - Leave for dinner

8.00pm - Dinner

12.00am (31 Dec) - Returned from dinner


Today's sermon was about the making of vows. Actually I had no intention of going to church this week, but due to the outworking of circumstances, I found myself at the service. Back to making vows - the last vow I made with God was one of a bargaining nature. Out of desperation being stranded alone outside the Indira Ghandi airport in New Delhi in the thick of the 1996 winter, I struck a deal with God. I said if He would "save my entire family", I would go wherever He sends me.

One year later I left for the Doulos, and subsequently to a 2-year commitment with Operation Moilisation.

Two years after I made the vow, my parents and late maternal granny was saved within two weeks of each other. Granny wanted to be baptised immediately!


CONCLUSION
God definitely kept His end of the bargain, although it was me who had the gall / foolhardiness to approach Him dictating my own terms in my vow. He is Creator and yet He "layan-ed" (entertained) such ridiculous arrogance from a creature. I am just like a flower that is here today and gone tomorrow. The more I realise my insistent candour, the more I am grateful for His grace... one just needs to look at the children of Israel who perished in the desert to appreciate the longsuffering patience of God.

I think God would want me to make a decision that best reflects His character in Philippians 2:6 - 8. If I would allow God to crucify me without pity, He can raise me beyond measure (v 9). I pray He will make me lose taste / yearning for the things of this world; and long for the things of eternity. I pray to be kept sane / hidden until the day arrives. I pray that more than just doing His work on earth, I will grow to love Him more and more as the Worthy One.

Retreat Journal 3

Day 3 (29th Dec)

8.00am - wokeup

8.30am - trapped inside the condo unit because Crystal mistakenly took my set of keys

9.00am - started to worship on the piano

9.30am - Crystal returned and I went swimming

10.30am - Cooked pasta brunch

11.30am - Reading Tozer and NKJV

11.45am - Worship on piano

4.35pm - Finished worshipping on piano. 2nd attempt at reading...

6.10pm - Going for dinner at godbrother's house


I did not have any 'great revelation' today; I merely worshipped the Lord with my instrument. I have almost forgotten what a divine privilege this is. There was no constraint of time, of being watched... or anything else. It is just God and myself. He alone is great and worthy.

I had tried to read all afternoon, but somehow my mind got so distracted. I was just drawn to the piano. Once my fingers hit the keyboard, the rest was history. I didn't realise the passage of time until it was... 4.30pm! Aaaaaaaaaaarggggggggghhh!!!!!!!

CONCLUSION
Seeing the day not over yet, I will say it is still early to sum up. Initial thoughts - Apart from God nothing matters. Nothing, not fame, status, relationship, health, money, security in houses, cars, etc... not even civilisations or empires can stand the ravages of time. All will lapse in the light of eternity. One by one, we will slip into eternity and nothing... NOTHING that we have built or achieved will stand, apart from the stuff done in obedience to God.

Then... am I living in obedience? Am I being a true disciple? Are the things of the world losing their value in my esteem? If so, then do I have the inner peace and a calm rest that characterised the saints of God? Is my life one that is self-denying (at the parts that matter) and God-pleasing? Can God have His way in me? Will I allow Him to crucify me without pity so that he can raise me up without measure?

Ah.... life and its endless quest for the Almighty!

Retreat Journal 2

Retreat Day 2 (28th Dec)

8am - Wokeup

9am - Meditation

1pm - Lunch

3pm - 7pm - Last minute shopping for presents

7pm - Dinner

9pm - 10.30pm - Email and blogging


What makes a true disciple? The one who sees the Lamb who was slain (Rev 5:6) seated on the right hand of God, and will follow Him everywhere He goes.

Christ was crucified entirely - from head to toe. There is not one part of Him that did not go to cross. And He did it for me. For me. FOR ME.


CONCLUSION
If I can help it, I won't want to carry my cross. But Jesus requires it. It may not be the same magnitude as His cross, coz His burden for me is light and His yoke easy. I have it good. The path ahead may be fraught with dangers and suffering, and there is always fear at the door waiting to creep in to arrest the soul. Can't give in. Got to cling on to a trustworthy God Who says He cares and has overcome all that is necessary for my victory.

Retreat Journal 1

Why a retreat?

Reason #1: Need an answer on a decision, in particular - is God really calling me to CO Springs?
Reason #2: Need respite from people in my house
Reason #3: Need respite from year-end madness
reason #4: Need direction for life

Pre-Retreat Day (26th Dec 2007)
Returned from Christmas party the night before. Took the LRT to Asia Jaya from Wangsa Maju. Stoned and groggy from lack of sleep the last couple days. The last of Christmas activities is over... finally I can concentrate on the retreat.

4pm - Went out with May to Curve and 1U... chilling out.

10pm - Arrived at Crystal's and settled in.

11.30pm - Read John Piper's "Marks of a leader" and Point #9 on the grave responsibility of a bible teacher cut me like a razor-sharp stone. (Hmmm... could something be brewing here...?)




Retreat Day 1 (27th Dec)

Finished reading John Stott's "Calling Christian Leaders" and his exposition on 1 Cor 3:12 - 14. Here is what I understand: The foundation of the church is Christ. Then the building is built either with gold, silver, etc... or with hay, wood and straw. Gold and the like are likened to true doctrine taught; and the straw stuff is anything short of balanced theology and pure doctrine. Depending on what is taught, it will affect the church eternally - for good or otherwise.

Which brings me to these questions:

What am I building with?

What are my motives?



CONCLUSION:
God has called me to teach and be a steward of His holy Word. It is a weighty responsibility and I am held in serious accountability.

Waiting

I am blown away.

After being "highly recommended" by a friend to be the Asst. to the President in this missions publishing organisation in Colorado Springs, USA, my weekend turned into a roller coaster ride!

First there was the enthusiasm of my friend who of course, to some degree rubbed off on me. Secondly, I had to reply the query from CO Springs and renovate my CV to be sent off. But mostly, it was the intrusion of my home routine that shattered my momentum. I had been at home 6 years, all these while wishing I would somehow be out in global missions again. I had sunk deeper and deeper in the freelance work-church searching quagmire. I had lived for the future all these years - waiting, hoping, praying for the ONE chance to get myself into missions once again. And then I arrived at some conclusion... I had almost given up hope. I had decided to "be all here" back home. I had decided to be centered. Mebbe I am supposed to be spending the remainder of my life back home in a limbo. Mebbe all that God had done and invested in me are meant to be lived in obscurity back home. Sigh...

Suddenly KAPOW! Co Springs happened.

My radar started to light up. Is this a calling? Being assistant to the President is certainly not a job for the unfettered and frisky me, but the other opening of Writer / Editor post is right up my alley. Dare I hope again?

So the weekend was spent thinking, praying, wondering. Mostly wondering. I sent in my CV, it was the most honest and lucid one I authored. I wanted to debunk any myths about me being over-qualified just in case my friend had oversold me. It is better to come clean on the onset than allow people to second-guess.

Close friends (people who know me, me) expressed caution. They feel an ENFP like me should be working directly with people and ideas. For me, the matter is out of my hands. I am praying that if it be God's will, that He opens the doors. If not, then I am happy to take 'no' for an answer.

Waiting.

Lessons from a Ciku Tree

I woke up this morning to the fresh, crisp, dewy air and the green of the lush, leafy ciku tree outside my window. It is more than 10-years old. The fruits are in full bloom, the tree peppered with hundreds of little brown fruit. Most of them are in different stages of fruition - some are merely budding, others are ready to fall from their stems to the next stage of decay.

I thought about death.

Seriously, that is not a distant prospect where my parents are concerned. What a horryfying, bewildering and sobering thought - all in the same instant! I wonder how I am going to handle the situation when it happens. I am afraid of my own unpreparedness. Would I be helpless, lonely and pathetic? Would I continue to trust God and obey Him? Would I, faced with my own mortality, succumb to the fear that has plagued men since Adam?

Hard to say. This article from John Piper sheds some perspective into the matter. Knowing how to live and knowing how die sums up the lifework of the one who believes in Christ and desires to live for Him. As it is, it is challenging enough trying to live a Christ-filled life. What more learning how to die in a Christ-glorifying manner?

I look at the ciku tree in my garden. For all its different seasons - fruitfulness and barrenness, and those that are in between, it never really took a lot of effort to grow... the elements took care of that. And when it is time to die, the tree will do just that. Its purpose spent, its presence had brightened the earth in its duration of life.

The Creator of the Universe, same Person who created the tree, will also tenderly help me to expire when my time is done on earth. The hows-and-whens are merely details. He will determine the time, location and procedure - all elements weaved by His powerful hands.

My ciku tree looks like it still has many good, sturdy and fruitful years ahead of it. And God willing, if I were to have the same, may those years be characterised by deep roots, strong branches and bushy leaves where fruits are aplenty in its season; and where birds can find shelter.



For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. - Paul, the Apostle

A Race to Run

I had time. So much time. In fact for the past couple weeks, all I had been doing had been (gasp!) letting time slip past my grip as I fretted and got frustrated. I had hit a rough patch and there seemed to be no getting out. As the condition deteriorated, I sank deeper into my own fabricated thoughts... thoughts of uselessness and wasted opportunities. Thoughts of what could have been. Thoughts of just forgetting what I had believed in thus far and concentrate on catching up with the trappings of life. I wondered who will take care of me in my old age... of retirement. Of accumulation of immediate pleasures. I wanted to just for once, think only about myself and my own interests.

Wow.

It is dangerous where your thoughts can lead you.

Some people have asked me what I expect out of Christian life. (I honestly dunno what kinda question that is, but I guess if it is asked, it somewhat deserves an answer). I actually thought long and hard. Obvious 'benefits' like eternal life / heaven aside, Christian living... or authentic Christian living, for most part, is risky, sacrificial, has no guarantee of success and basically drives one to what constitutes an early grave. History attests to those who had been tortured, killed, quartered and suffered mostly for what they treasured as the imperishable belief in an invisible God.

We are pilgrims passing thru'...

My answer, I guess, is not PR-polished. It may even sound cliche. but then again, in our weary world of media overload... what isn't?

I want to finish my race well. Life is just too darned short to be spent on something else. But my problem is, I may not always know what makes a good runner. And I keep making mistakes. I wonder how many times I can get up again, dust off the dirt and keep running. Poets say we weave the tapestry of life. I say... just let me reach the finish line with faith still intact.

Jesus, running is not my second nature, I am sure you know that. Following you is risky. But if ever there was a race worth running, it is because you promised to be there too. That makes all the difference.

My Way or His Way

Life hardly goes the way it is expected, yeah? I am glad. Or else there will be very little room for adventure and anticipation.

The trip to Chiangmai had all the makings of a tour holiday - inland guided tours operated by agents, eating local food, getting around the city getting (partially) fleeced by songtheaw* drivers and wandering around the streets in a truly touristy manner clad in our bermudas and sneakers.

Lai Peng was the super tourist maxxing out on her time and budget. I was the laidback antagonist who wanted nothing better than just sitting down having a chat over a drink with anyone I could grab. Not such a fantastic combo. But we managed without tearing each other's hair out.

The highlight of the trip (actually it became a highlight only today, after the arrival of an email) was getting re-connected with a friend. My friend is a missionary whom I met 4 years ago while she was still attached to an organisation in KL. We met briefly, had a deep connection and parted ways when she went off to seminary and then abroad. We never kept in touch. Then, to my utter suprise, it turned out she was staying just a few doors away from my host in Chiangmai!

We exchanged stories and brought each other up to speed on our respective lives. We really only had a couple hours' worth of real conversation, as the rest of the trip had been one activity after another. Actually the trip had been good for me, I met so many missionaries and it really reminded me of the years I was doing cross-cultural missions abroad. I missed those times and yearned for them. In fact, I lived most of my years in KL after 2001 wanting to go back to the field and longed to "be of service to God" in that manner again. I saw myself as a field material person, and was already prepared to die in my assigned field.

But that was naught to be. At least not for now.

After I got back from Chiangmai, I received a missive from this friend. What she wrote really touched my heart in places I didn't expect. The email read:

" Dear Michelle, it was a real surprise to see you in Chiang Mai too. Now I really believe that God led us to know each other 4 years ago, and that was not a coincidence. Through your sharing it has brought me the confirmation that I am here is not for mistake. This is part of His divine plan in my life. Because recently I have been asking God that why am I here and is this is a mistake of my choice or....?????? Thanks Michelle for bringing the comfort for my heart."

Suffice to say, I have been challenged and silenced (again) by the quiet ways of the Lord. I had my mind and heart set on returning to the field, God showed me He had better use of me elsewhere - though He is not telling me where and when. Yet. It is a hard pill to swallow. It is not really that I should dictate terms in the service of God. It is His work, to be done His way, in His time and at His pleasure.


May we all, Lord, be found doing what gives You most pleasure.

One Trip Too Many...?

I finally did it.

Told Sook Ching I am willing to be part of the November Myanmar mission trip should anyone drops out. Should that come to pass, this will be my 2nd short-term mission trip, and fourth trip abroad this year! Shikes... no wonder I am broke! Anyway, no one has dropped out yet, so I am kinda "safe" for the moment.

Been re-reading Tozer's "Born After Midnight". Great stuff. Tells you how you are the sum of all your voluntary thoughts, ie, thoughts that come to mind when you are free to think of whatever you want. How astute.

I've been thinking a lot about life. The brevity of it. And lately, I just can't seem to focus my thoughts on God, especially after the "drugging session" of two weeks staying in bed due to the flu. I was so zonked that I could not really orientate my mind to the stuff at hand, even a week after stopping the antibiotics. This is terrible. They should ban those stuff, or shoot people who propagate them!

So here I am back to the grind... Bible study classes every weekend, a wedding coming up, stories to finish, people to catch up with and... housechores! Dreaming of settling down in Toronto, walking down Younge St and generally vegging out.

I miss my friends in Toronto, Vancouver, Virginia. England. Nepal. I miss those heady missions days. I miss backpacking. Miss throwing caution to the wind and packing up at a moment's notice. Miss the first flush of wonder at the discovery of a new place. Night busses. Hostel lockers. Friendly strangers.

God! Is this what happens at mid-life????