Very very tired now. The past three days have involved me sleeping an average of 4 hrs per night, and standing around for almost 10 hrs per day. Was volunteering myself as an usher at the Eagles Communiations Leadership Conference. It was the only way I could have gone for the conference, since to register as a delegate would set me back abt about 350 bucks.
Yes, its super expensive.
But the last three days have really been something. 2 years ago, I was doing the same thing, and I was actually more attentive to the messages rather than busy really doing ushering duties. This time round although I was never able to sit through a whole message at all, I guess with the topics that were discussed, which were very much things on my heart about ministry, I really enjoyed myself very much. I seldom feel this way or say this, but the last three days I really felt God was speaking to me, and saying a lot to me about my state of service to Him, and examining it together with the state of my heart towards Him.
Was a really pleasant surprise to hear the song 'When Its All Said And Done" sung at the conference. It's not the most popular song in Singapore, but one which Henry and I hold very very dear. Its significance wasn't lost on me also, the lyrical content again echoing what God's been saying to me. Its actually a really simple song, with a very simple message. But timeless and true.
I guess a lot of things that were covered weren't very profound truths, but I suppose the difference is that when you hear it from a speaker, it sets off your mind thinking. But when you feel God Himself using the message to speak to you, your heart starts resonating. And its been so long since I've felt my heart beating with the anticipation of God's voice. The lessons were very simple ones too, and often issues I've been thinking about for a long time now. Hearing it from the pulpit on the one hand affirmed my own deliberations of these concerns, and on the other hand forced me to recognize that even by my own standards (God's standards notwithstanding), I still fall so terribly short.
Mark Chan preached about leadership grace, and how a leader modelled after Christ is one with that eternal faithfulness and commitment towards building up lives, instead of being quick to confront and tear down. Richard Mouw spoke at large of a christianity that needs to permeate into the existential reality of the world outside of the church boundaries, and to begin living out the love of Christ in it, 'that they may know we are His disciples by our love". He made a really interesting comment about how we mix things up so easily, by talking about "integrating our faith into our work". He reminded us that we integrate the smaller into the larger, not the other way round. In other words, we ought to think in terms of "integrating work into our faith", and remind ourselves that our faith ought to be the over-arching canvas upon which we place and align the other things in our lives. Em Griffiths spoke about forgiveness and building relationships, and I thought he was just about the best I've ever heard before on a subject such as this.
Can't wait for the CDs to be shipped in. Lots of stuff I missed, that I think I really would want to hear.
Grins. In the meantime, tmr's another long long day. Early day too. SMU prayer walk at 0930 in the morning.
Help.
I've been the king, I've been the clown. Now broken wings can't hold me down. I'm free again. The jester with the broken crown, it won't be me this time around to love in vain.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Sunrise, Sunset
I just watched both Before Sunrise and Before Sunset in one sitting. And I absolutely L-O-V-E-D it. I guess I've always enjoyed the dialogue in movies more than the special effects, and I thought this was just a brilliantly put together movie. And I don't just say it because Julie Delpy was enchanting.
The dialogue, the setting (Paris), the whole romantic ideals that they discussed... it kindda reminded me of Spanglish. How two soulmates somehow met, yet never could really get anywhere.
I just read A Divine Romance by Gene Edwards in one sitting also. I thought he very beautifully portrayed the whole picture of God's plan of salvation. Of course, the more theologically prudish would be a little uncomfortable at some of the things he suggested, but if you just appreciate the whole romance behind God's great love for humankind, and the plan He had to put together to save us... I thought the pathos alone was enough to knock me off my feet.
Its been a very good day for me. Worked out at the gym with Xianghui, and spent some quality time with him also. With the book and the two movies, its been a couple of days getting in touch with my emotions.
At the risk of over-doing it, I really really wanna say how much I enjoyed the dialogue in both movies. You know how there were always a lot of things you felt but could never put into words till someone came along and said it, and it all suddenly fell into place? Well, I was having that one moment after another throughout the movie.
Hehz... rarely do I pass an evening in such a good mood. This is one of them.
Grins.
The dialogue, the setting (Paris), the whole romantic ideals that they discussed... it kindda reminded me of Spanglish. How two soulmates somehow met, yet never could really get anywhere.
I just read A Divine Romance by Gene Edwards in one sitting also. I thought he very beautifully portrayed the whole picture of God's plan of salvation. Of course, the more theologically prudish would be a little uncomfortable at some of the things he suggested, but if you just appreciate the whole romance behind God's great love for humankind, and the plan He had to put together to save us... I thought the pathos alone was enough to knock me off my feet.
Its been a very good day for me. Worked out at the gym with Xianghui, and spent some quality time with him also. With the book and the two movies, its been a couple of days getting in touch with my emotions.
At the risk of over-doing it, I really really wanna say how much I enjoyed the dialogue in both movies. You know how there were always a lot of things you felt but could never put into words till someone came along and said it, and it all suddenly fell into place? Well, I was having that one moment after another throughout the movie.
Hehz... rarely do I pass an evening in such a good mood. This is one of them.
Grins.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Warning - Long Entry
Mm, so much has happened in the week leading up till tonight, that I haven’t had time to chronicle any of it down. Until now. And of course, perfect sense of timing that some brats have, spoiling the fun of reading a book and all, decided to request that I post on the every night I meant to do so.
Ah well. Shall not disappoint my stalkers/fans, nevertheless.
Grins.
I just wrapped up a worship session for nearly 400 youths on sat, at True Way Presbyterian Church. It was a Presbyterian Community Service flag day event, and I was co-leading with a youth pastor from the ORPC English congregation, Pastor Amos. The full band was provided by True Way, and I guess for me it was a first working with a full band, a first time leading in front of so many people, and the first time I’ve worked with anyone else in the whole band. Tho ironically, after the who event was over, I realized that my lead musician, Vincent, was a batch mate of Paul in the Navy, as well as a friend of Serene’s in SMU. Small world indeed.
Well, the rehearsals were pretty tedious, and quite an experience for me, esp since it was my first time working with a full band, and I was totally unfamiliar with their working style. It was all pretty tiring too, since most of them were so young. Hard to catch up with their boundless energy la. Practiced on tue and thus night. Coupled with my lessons on mon and wed, it totally burnt my whole week nights.
But the event turned out pretty well in the end. I had lots of fun, and it was pretty cool seeing so many youths from the Presbyterian circle (both English and Chinese) showing up to do this thing together.
Attended a briefing also for the Eagles Communications Leadership Conference, which will take place next week. Really really looking forward to it. 2 years ago, the one I attended left impressions in me that still remain to this day. This time round, I’ll be accompanied by Xiying, Simon and Xianghui. So it must be fun. Grins.
On sat we had our DM graduation tea. We finally managed to somehow claw our way past the first season of DM, and I thought it all went very well. Lots of people have worked their socks off for this, and them some. So of course, with impeccable timing, now that its finally over and she can afford it, Weixiu fell sick. She’s really given it her all. But I think she did really well. Very proud of her. Its been a long time since we produced such a juicy sugar cane.
Muahahahahahahahaha…
After the grad tea, we adjourned to Bernice’s place for worship practice. SERENE leading worship for the FIRST TIME!!! Hehz… Ah well. I think its always so exciting to see someone else step up to the challenge to lead. The Levite Ministry is actually a very very difficult ministry in that not only are those who can stand up on stage to lead few and far between, there’s also the issue of whether or not those who can would be an appropriate choice or not. Or whether or not the person is available. So after having slogged out in the ministry with Bernice and Henry for so long now, with no reprieve anywhere in sight, I don’t think Serene has any idea just how much of an encouragement it is to me to see someone standing up to avail herself to serve. Considering that amongst this unholy trinity of the boy, the girl and the big lightbulb, I already have the least to do by far, I can only guess how much more exhausted Henry and Bernice must feel, and what a toll it is having on their work, family, and their relationship.
Anyway, Serene did really well today. And I’m not just saying it cos it’s the nice thing to say, or cos she reads this blog. I really think she did very well for her maiden attempt. Of course, all the stress that was on her face before the worship itself aside, I thought she really prepared very hard for this session. And it showed. Compared to how much I was babbling in my first YEAR on the stage cos of my nervousness, I was really impressed with her. Grins.
Another potential juicy sugar cane….
Muahahahahahaha…
This week I’ve also managed to squeeze in lunch with Weimin and Serene on 2 separate days. Was supposed to meet Henry too, but he fell sick as well. Sigh. A little worried for him now, cos he’s due on a mission trip with New Heart this tue, and he’s in pretty bad shape.
On fri night, I attended a Chinese Orchestra concert by RGS. My cousin’s swan performance. Next year she’ll be in RJC. Kids grow up so damn fast sometimes. I still remember her as a baby, when she was first born. Well, first of all my parents got the venue mixed up. We drove over to RJC, and my mom told me to hop out of the car to ask where the KS Chee theatre is. After asking abt 3 grps of students who all looked at me like I just landed from Mars, and said they had no idea where that place was, I smelt a rat. So I went back to get the tickets, and to my utter exasperation, it said “RGS KS Chee Theatre”. Wrong School!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My champion mother strikes again.
So we somehow managed to rush over still. The concert was awful man. The standard of the RGS CO has dropped so much. But ironically, one of the few things that were better was the fact that in 3 years, this is the first time I’ve heard a percussionist who was better than Grace. This girl was absolutely phenomenal. But obviously, she wasn’t a local la. PRC.
I’ve discovered a new low in my life. DOTA with Artificial Intelligence. Gives a whole new dimension of fun to DOTA at home. Hehz… Help.
*takes a deep breath*
Mm, that’s a lot of things in one entry already. But one last thing.
I thought today’s sermon by Zhang Mu Shi’s was the best I’ve heard in a long long while. He spoke on an unhealthy low self-esteem, and he contrasted it humility. While I don’t deny that I have serious, serious issues with low self-esteem, I guess the most pertinent manifestation is always my chronic lack of confidence in myself. I dun really suffer from too much jealousy pangs, too much time wallowing in self-pity and self-abasement (at least not so much nowadays), but anytime it comes to asserting myself and wondering if I have what it takes, my first and almost overpowering instinct is to tell myself that I can’t do it, or that I’m not worthy.
So today’s message gave me a lot to think about.
Whether or not I’ll really be able to aim for a Master’s degree eventually, and actually feel that it’s a realistic target that I can therefore whole-heartedly work towards it. Whether or not I can shed my excess pounds and actually be fit again. Whether or not I’ll ever dare to believe that a girl whom I worship will actually be able to love me back. Or whether or not I’ll be able to do better than in my last relationship, or if I’ll just screw things up again. Whether or not I can stand up and fill the gap left by my sis once she’s married.
So many questions that need answering. And everytime I answer myself in the negative, it just becomes more and more overwhelming. I compare myself with people doing their Master’s degree, and I think I dun have half their brains. I look at people who are really fit, and I dun think I’ll ever get there. I look at the guys around me and I see so many whom I think I’d choose instead of myself if I were a girl. I look to my sis and I think she’s irreplaceable. And I guess most of the time when I sit down and brood, its always these same old questions that rises to the surface. I give these thoughts enough airtime and I find myself sinking into depression.
I guess I know what I need to be focusing on in my next personal retreat. Grins. Supposed to ask Henry during his one week leave if he’ll want to go East Coast with me to do my personal retreat.
Really looking forward to it, actually. Been a while since I last spent time with God alone.
Ah well. Shall not disappoint my stalkers/fans, nevertheless.
Grins.
I just wrapped up a worship session for nearly 400 youths on sat, at True Way Presbyterian Church. It was a Presbyterian Community Service flag day event, and I was co-leading with a youth pastor from the ORPC English congregation, Pastor Amos. The full band was provided by True Way, and I guess for me it was a first working with a full band, a first time leading in front of so many people, and the first time I’ve worked with anyone else in the whole band. Tho ironically, after the who event was over, I realized that my lead musician, Vincent, was a batch mate of Paul in the Navy, as well as a friend of Serene’s in SMU. Small world indeed.
Well, the rehearsals were pretty tedious, and quite an experience for me, esp since it was my first time working with a full band, and I was totally unfamiliar with their working style. It was all pretty tiring too, since most of them were so young. Hard to catch up with their boundless energy la. Practiced on tue and thus night. Coupled with my lessons on mon and wed, it totally burnt my whole week nights.
But the event turned out pretty well in the end. I had lots of fun, and it was pretty cool seeing so many youths from the Presbyterian circle (both English and Chinese) showing up to do this thing together.
Attended a briefing also for the Eagles Communications Leadership Conference, which will take place next week. Really really looking forward to it. 2 years ago, the one I attended left impressions in me that still remain to this day. This time round, I’ll be accompanied by Xiying, Simon and Xianghui. So it must be fun. Grins.
On sat we had our DM graduation tea. We finally managed to somehow claw our way past the first season of DM, and I thought it all went very well. Lots of people have worked their socks off for this, and them some. So of course, with impeccable timing, now that its finally over and she can afford it, Weixiu fell sick. She’s really given it her all. But I think she did really well. Very proud of her. Its been a long time since we produced such a juicy sugar cane.
Muahahahahahahahaha…
After the grad tea, we adjourned to Bernice’s place for worship practice. SERENE leading worship for the FIRST TIME!!! Hehz… Ah well. I think its always so exciting to see someone else step up to the challenge to lead. The Levite Ministry is actually a very very difficult ministry in that not only are those who can stand up on stage to lead few and far between, there’s also the issue of whether or not those who can would be an appropriate choice or not. Or whether or not the person is available. So after having slogged out in the ministry with Bernice and Henry for so long now, with no reprieve anywhere in sight, I don’t think Serene has any idea just how much of an encouragement it is to me to see someone standing up to avail herself to serve. Considering that amongst this unholy trinity of the boy, the girl and the big lightbulb, I already have the least to do by far, I can only guess how much more exhausted Henry and Bernice must feel, and what a toll it is having on their work, family, and their relationship.
Anyway, Serene did really well today. And I’m not just saying it cos it’s the nice thing to say, or cos she reads this blog. I really think she did very well for her maiden attempt. Of course, all the stress that was on her face before the worship itself aside, I thought she really prepared very hard for this session. And it showed. Compared to how much I was babbling in my first YEAR on the stage cos of my nervousness, I was really impressed with her. Grins.
Another potential juicy sugar cane….
Muahahahahahaha…
This week I’ve also managed to squeeze in lunch with Weimin and Serene on 2 separate days. Was supposed to meet Henry too, but he fell sick as well. Sigh. A little worried for him now, cos he’s due on a mission trip with New Heart this tue, and he’s in pretty bad shape.
On fri night, I attended a Chinese Orchestra concert by RGS. My cousin’s swan performance. Next year she’ll be in RJC. Kids grow up so damn fast sometimes. I still remember her as a baby, when she was first born. Well, first of all my parents got the venue mixed up. We drove over to RJC, and my mom told me to hop out of the car to ask where the KS Chee theatre is. After asking abt 3 grps of students who all looked at me like I just landed from Mars, and said they had no idea where that place was, I smelt a rat. So I went back to get the tickets, and to my utter exasperation, it said “RGS KS Chee Theatre”. Wrong School!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My champion mother strikes again.
So we somehow managed to rush over still. The concert was awful man. The standard of the RGS CO has dropped so much. But ironically, one of the few things that were better was the fact that in 3 years, this is the first time I’ve heard a percussionist who was better than Grace. This girl was absolutely phenomenal. But obviously, she wasn’t a local la. PRC.
I’ve discovered a new low in my life. DOTA with Artificial Intelligence. Gives a whole new dimension of fun to DOTA at home. Hehz… Help.
*takes a deep breath*
Mm, that’s a lot of things in one entry already. But one last thing.
I thought today’s sermon by Zhang Mu Shi’s was the best I’ve heard in a long long while. He spoke on an unhealthy low self-esteem, and he contrasted it humility. While I don’t deny that I have serious, serious issues with low self-esteem, I guess the most pertinent manifestation is always my chronic lack of confidence in myself. I dun really suffer from too much jealousy pangs, too much time wallowing in self-pity and self-abasement (at least not so much nowadays), but anytime it comes to asserting myself and wondering if I have what it takes, my first and almost overpowering instinct is to tell myself that I can’t do it, or that I’m not worthy.
So today’s message gave me a lot to think about.
Whether or not I’ll really be able to aim for a Master’s degree eventually, and actually feel that it’s a realistic target that I can therefore whole-heartedly work towards it. Whether or not I can shed my excess pounds and actually be fit again. Whether or not I’ll ever dare to believe that a girl whom I worship will actually be able to love me back. Or whether or not I’ll be able to do better than in my last relationship, or if I’ll just screw things up again. Whether or not I can stand up and fill the gap left by my sis once she’s married.
So many questions that need answering. And everytime I answer myself in the negative, it just becomes more and more overwhelming. I compare myself with people doing their Master’s degree, and I think I dun have half their brains. I look at people who are really fit, and I dun think I’ll ever get there. I look at the guys around me and I see so many whom I think I’d choose instead of myself if I were a girl. I look to my sis and I think she’s irreplaceable. And I guess most of the time when I sit down and brood, its always these same old questions that rises to the surface. I give these thoughts enough airtime and I find myself sinking into depression.
I guess I know what I need to be focusing on in my next personal retreat. Grins. Supposed to ask Henry during his one week leave if he’ll want to go East Coast with me to do my personal retreat.
Really looking forward to it, actually. Been a while since I last spent time with God alone.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Modem's Working Again!!!
I'm finally back.
My modem's been out for some time, and after that its been a crazy time of replying some overdue emails.
Sigh.
Anyway, so much has happened, I dun even know where to begin.
By right its been a really great week. Met up with Paul on tue for my birthday dinner, where we pigged out at Fish & Co. Had another feast on fri at Shangrila's The Line, a new international buffet restaurant that promises to bring your waistLINE to new horizons. On thus I met up with the worship team in True Way Presbyterian Church to work on a combined worship. Saturday was Charlotte's 21st birthday party. And just tonight I had a pretty good run.
Yet in midst of all this, the whole thing abt Sho dying somehow still bugged me. The last email I received before my modem crashed was Jody sharing abt his prayer request for the message he was to give at Sho's memorial. Naturally, the first message I looked for my mails came in, was how the memorial went. And I guess its always moving to see how an occasion like a funeral could cause so much hope to arise out of people. Nevertheless, something abt the knowledge of how death has hit someone whom I know, no matter how remote, always seem to have affect me. Especially when it hits someone so young. I mean, someone's grandparents who passed away... that I can understand. And somehow the week passed by with just that hint of a cloud over me, and a rather sober mood that tempered all the fun I was having.
Anyway, today during the sermon, something that my pastor was saying just triggered my thoughts, about how love so often really does run contrary to reason. It was like a mini epiphany, sitting there and almost half dozing off (Wasn't the sermon. I was, for some strange reason, exceedingly tired.) when that one line he said suddenly triggered the train of thought.
I guess the guiding principle I try to live my life by is that love has to fly in the face of reason to a pretty large extent, in order to distinguish itself from mere pragmatism and reason. When a mother looks at an errant child and chooses to still believe in him despite recognizing and acknowledging his misdeeds... that's how we know the depth of the mother's love. Something that flies in the face of all conventional wisdom, that stay "in spite of all this, I will...".
And mebbe that's the hardest part of love. Both the giving of it, as well as in the taking of it. When someone you really cared about lets you down, or disappoints you, not only are you expected to forgive, you're expect to walk the second mile, and give back exactly the same level of trust as you did before, often in the knowledge that you will only be hurt in exactly the same way over and over again. On the flipside, knowing how undeserving you are of someone's love, you tend to run away, so as to not run the risk of disappointment if you are indeed not offered that gift you so long and crave for.
Strangely enough, that was the main message I took home from the sermon. Cos it was actually a minor point that my pastor was making. Yet it served to remind me again of the unconditional love we're all called to lavish on one another. My birthday was a time when I saw very tangibly the care and love I've been privileged to have been on the receiving end of, and of which I've tried to return in kind on the days leading up to my next birthday. Yet loving each other is so easy when its expressed with ice-cream, feasts, and just good times spent with one another. The harder part is to still be looking out for each other when we're so bogged down by our own burdens and concerns that everything else gets overshadowed.
Something tells me our ministry honeymoon is coming to an end, and things are gonna start to become more and more challenging. I pray that this will be a reminder that I keep myself anchored to, that our ministry will always be based on love for one another instead of on agendas. The onus is on me to not only learn to love those who labour with me, but to also learn to love reciprocally, that I learn to expect and accept being loved by them.
Grins.
I know it sounds really easy.
But its hard for me.
My modem's been out for some time, and after that its been a crazy time of replying some overdue emails.
Sigh.
Anyway, so much has happened, I dun even know where to begin.
By right its been a really great week. Met up with Paul on tue for my birthday dinner, where we pigged out at Fish & Co. Had another feast on fri at Shangrila's The Line, a new international buffet restaurant that promises to bring your waistLINE to new horizons. On thus I met up with the worship team in True Way Presbyterian Church to work on a combined worship. Saturday was Charlotte's 21st birthday party. And just tonight I had a pretty good run.
Yet in midst of all this, the whole thing abt Sho dying somehow still bugged me. The last email I received before my modem crashed was Jody sharing abt his prayer request for the message he was to give at Sho's memorial. Naturally, the first message I looked for my mails came in, was how the memorial went. And I guess its always moving to see how an occasion like a funeral could cause so much hope to arise out of people. Nevertheless, something abt the knowledge of how death has hit someone whom I know, no matter how remote, always seem to have affect me. Especially when it hits someone so young. I mean, someone's grandparents who passed away... that I can understand. And somehow the week passed by with just that hint of a cloud over me, and a rather sober mood that tempered all the fun I was having.
Anyway, today during the sermon, something that my pastor was saying just triggered my thoughts, about how love so often really does run contrary to reason. It was like a mini epiphany, sitting there and almost half dozing off (Wasn't the sermon. I was, for some strange reason, exceedingly tired.) when that one line he said suddenly triggered the train of thought.
I guess the guiding principle I try to live my life by is that love has to fly in the face of reason to a pretty large extent, in order to distinguish itself from mere pragmatism and reason. When a mother looks at an errant child and chooses to still believe in him despite recognizing and acknowledging his misdeeds... that's how we know the depth of the mother's love. Something that flies in the face of all conventional wisdom, that stay "in spite of all this, I will...".
And mebbe that's the hardest part of love. Both the giving of it, as well as in the taking of it. When someone you really cared about lets you down, or disappoints you, not only are you expected to forgive, you're expect to walk the second mile, and give back exactly the same level of trust as you did before, often in the knowledge that you will only be hurt in exactly the same way over and over again. On the flipside, knowing how undeserving you are of someone's love, you tend to run away, so as to not run the risk of disappointment if you are indeed not offered that gift you so long and crave for.
Strangely enough, that was the main message I took home from the sermon. Cos it was actually a minor point that my pastor was making. Yet it served to remind me again of the unconditional love we're all called to lavish on one another. My birthday was a time when I saw very tangibly the care and love I've been privileged to have been on the receiving end of, and of which I've tried to return in kind on the days leading up to my next birthday. Yet loving each other is so easy when its expressed with ice-cream, feasts, and just good times spent with one another. The harder part is to still be looking out for each other when we're so bogged down by our own burdens and concerns that everything else gets overshadowed.
Something tells me our ministry honeymoon is coming to an end, and things are gonna start to become more and more challenging. I pray that this will be a reminder that I keep myself anchored to, that our ministry will always be based on love for one another instead of on agendas. The onus is on me to not only learn to love those who labour with me, but to also learn to love reciprocally, that I learn to expect and accept being loved by them.
Grins.
I know it sounds really easy.
But its hard for me.
Monday, July 11, 2005
My Routine Ramblings
What makes a good discipler? Was talking to Caleb till pretty late last night, as we sat up talking about church leadership. He had come down to cell yesterday to visit us, and to catch a feel of how things are over here. And I guess there was plenty of food for thought for him, as he sat through 2 hrs plus of our cell session. Esp so since our cell was supposed to be one of the most responsive cell.
We talked abt pple like Kangwei and Renji, Zhang Mu Shi, Benson, Enci tuanqi and their policy of isolation. I guess lots of us realise that something is gravely wrong when one of the church ministry has decided to cut themselves off so much from the rest, and the irony of each side at the same time preaching unity in the body in the context of their own surroundings. And yet we both seem so intent on focusing on the small picture that justifies our stand, while ignoring the big picture, where its so obvious that all is not well in the church...
Was telling Caleb that it seems that when we try to move to address the issue, Enci only miscontrues it an attempt to wrestle back political clout, and is thus met with a whle lot of suspicion and resistance and very little good comes out of trying. So obviously that aproach doesn't work. Yet I guess if we are the ones that see the problem, the onus is on us to try to resolve it. And at the moment, all we can do is pray.
Which brings us to the second issue, of how the Core Group used to fulfill that exact purpose, of getting everyone inside the group to be praying about some of the main issues the church is dealing with. And it really worked. It drew a whole lot us who were pretty scattered, into a more focused state of prayer, and then of service. Everyone was a lot more like-minded. Yet over time, the core group seems to have evolved yet again into a task force group, where we spend more time discussing issues than praying, and more time pressing agendas and programs rather than to fellowship. It really disturbing how insidiously this "corporate culture" creeps into the midst of any community, even when the starting intent was good.
I look at how much Kangwei is feeling the pressure from both our side to do the SMU project, and on Enci's side to commit to their fellowship, and I really feel that we've forgotten to love Kangwei already. It really really somehow pains me to see someone who starts out with a love for both God and His ministry end up as a pawn in the eagerness for us to push programs, as well as our plans and agendas. That day some of us agreed that we should talk to Kangwei, and get him to think through carefully what does he really have a burden to do in the next few years. If SMU really isn't on his agenda, then we will help him to say no to Zhang Mu Shi if need be. His well-being must take precedence over any ministry we are trying to launch.
Yet somehow, its been two weeks already since our discussion, and we've not found time, nor made time to talk to him.
Sigh.
It really can be so hard to love someone.
Caleb's pretty troubled by all these things that we see, and discussed. Yet in so many ways we are so helpless to do anything about it at all. There's a part of us that knows we leave it to God in prayer, the things that we are anxious about. Yet there's also that over-riding drive to do something, which I think is a very natural state one will be in if one really gives a damn at all. And I guess all I could say to him at the end of the day is to watch himself and not take on too much. Because this cosmic sugar-cane presser can really be such a terror sometimes, that turns the best of intentions. and the best of hearts, into a tired, worn-out and emotionally scarred victim.
Moving on to something lighter, yesterday some of the guys celebrated my birthday for me. Gabriel (SOOOO proud of him) actually went to buy me a Ryan Giggs miniature from the Reds Shop for me. It was a noble gesture for two reasons - that a Liverpool fan would actually step into a Reds Shop to buy Man Utd Memorabilia for me, and also that its a valiant attempt to stave off the bankruptcy that is almost guaranteed for the Red Devils. Hehz... Well, if not the practical value of the gift, I sure appreciated the sentiment behind it.
Grins.
I managed to get away from all their sabo-ing in church... even managed to buy dinner for some of them, something I actually really wanted to do. But then I still ended up with cream on my face. Literally. It started with an innocent suggestion to go eat ice-cream at Swenson's, since the birthday boy gets a free sundae. And that idea ended up with the whipped cream on my sundae appearing on my face, as well as on Der Biao's video phone.
Sigh. So much for dodging my birthday sabo.
Ah well. All in good fun I guess. Grins. I better not get an outbreak now on my face man... Muahahahahahaha... Imagine my horror if I suffered an outbreak... and bumped into Fiona!!!!
Ah well. If wishing made it so... I'd be a multi-millionaire then, and driving my girlfriend around in my Mini Cooper.
In the meantime, Bus 167 and my swing at the park shall suffice to take their place, I guess.
Grins.
We talked abt pple like Kangwei and Renji, Zhang Mu Shi, Benson, Enci tuanqi and their policy of isolation. I guess lots of us realise that something is gravely wrong when one of the church ministry has decided to cut themselves off so much from the rest, and the irony of each side at the same time preaching unity in the body in the context of their own surroundings. And yet we both seem so intent on focusing on the small picture that justifies our stand, while ignoring the big picture, where its so obvious that all is not well in the church...
Was telling Caleb that it seems that when we try to move to address the issue, Enci only miscontrues it an attempt to wrestle back political clout, and is thus met with a whle lot of suspicion and resistance and very little good comes out of trying. So obviously that aproach doesn't work. Yet I guess if we are the ones that see the problem, the onus is on us to try to resolve it. And at the moment, all we can do is pray.
Which brings us to the second issue, of how the Core Group used to fulfill that exact purpose, of getting everyone inside the group to be praying about some of the main issues the church is dealing with. And it really worked. It drew a whole lot us who were pretty scattered, into a more focused state of prayer, and then of service. Everyone was a lot more like-minded. Yet over time, the core group seems to have evolved yet again into a task force group, where we spend more time discussing issues than praying, and more time pressing agendas and programs rather than to fellowship. It really disturbing how insidiously this "corporate culture" creeps into the midst of any community, even when the starting intent was good.
I look at how much Kangwei is feeling the pressure from both our side to do the SMU project, and on Enci's side to commit to their fellowship, and I really feel that we've forgotten to love Kangwei already. It really really somehow pains me to see someone who starts out with a love for both God and His ministry end up as a pawn in the eagerness for us to push programs, as well as our plans and agendas. That day some of us agreed that we should talk to Kangwei, and get him to think through carefully what does he really have a burden to do in the next few years. If SMU really isn't on his agenda, then we will help him to say no to Zhang Mu Shi if need be. His well-being must take precedence over any ministry we are trying to launch.
Yet somehow, its been two weeks already since our discussion, and we've not found time, nor made time to talk to him.
Sigh.
It really can be so hard to love someone.
Caleb's pretty troubled by all these things that we see, and discussed. Yet in so many ways we are so helpless to do anything about it at all. There's a part of us that knows we leave it to God in prayer, the things that we are anxious about. Yet there's also that over-riding drive to do something, which I think is a very natural state one will be in if one really gives a damn at all. And I guess all I could say to him at the end of the day is to watch himself and not take on too much. Because this cosmic sugar-cane presser can really be such a terror sometimes, that turns the best of intentions. and the best of hearts, into a tired, worn-out and emotionally scarred victim.
Moving on to something lighter, yesterday some of the guys celebrated my birthday for me. Gabriel (SOOOO proud of him) actually went to buy me a Ryan Giggs miniature from the Reds Shop for me. It was a noble gesture for two reasons - that a Liverpool fan would actually step into a Reds Shop to buy Man Utd Memorabilia for me, and also that its a valiant attempt to stave off the bankruptcy that is almost guaranteed for the Red Devils. Hehz... Well, if not the practical value of the gift, I sure appreciated the sentiment behind it.
Grins.
I managed to get away from all their sabo-ing in church... even managed to buy dinner for some of them, something I actually really wanted to do. But then I still ended up with cream on my face. Literally. It started with an innocent suggestion to go eat ice-cream at Swenson's, since the birthday boy gets a free sundae. And that idea ended up with the whipped cream on my sundae appearing on my face, as well as on Der Biao's video phone.
Sigh. So much for dodging my birthday sabo.
Ah well. All in good fun I guess. Grins. I better not get an outbreak now on my face man... Muahahahahahaha... Imagine my horror if I suffered an outbreak... and bumped into Fiona!!!!
Ah well. If wishing made it so... I'd be a multi-millionaire then, and driving my girlfriend around in my Mini Cooper.
In the meantime, Bus 167 and my swing at the park shall suffice to take their place, I guess.
Grins.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
My Happy Karma
Had a pretty good day today with Xianghui, just catching up abt stuff in church, as well as with each other. Were also just sharing abt lotsa things, and overall had a pretty good afternoon. Oh and in case you're wondering, we were at the gym. Not in a cafe. Of course, its also like what I tell Jingliang "When Xianghui and I go to the gym, its more to hang-out than to work-out."
Hehz...
Still, I had a pretty comprehensive work-out today. Totally expecting to ache like nobody's business tmr... Which, is when I will start on my next part-time project... Again back at Cougar warehouse. Hilarious thing is, this time round I roped Simon in to help out, and he was made 2 i/c. Muahahahahahaha... I told Ruth - "See how powerful and influencial I can be? Simon asked if I had any lobang for a job, and I got him a job as a 2 i/c on a project."
Tee hee.
Cheap thrill.
Ah well. Who cares...
At night we had a session of DotA. First round my team lost cos we were out-numbered la. Later when we balanced out the numbers, we totally owned the game. Hehz... Poor Joseph Sim took a beating like none he ever suffered before. Wuahahahahaha...
Lalalala...
Mm, my birthday's coming up oredi. I'm really really really hoping no one makes a fuss outta it. It used to be great when you're 17, that people all remember your birthdays. At 26 yrs old, its just embarrassing. Birthday songs and all... And its gonna be the Love Feast in church this sunday, right smack on the same day. Sigh. I know there are some out there who will accuse me of being thick skinned, but I seriously hope my name doesn't crop up at all during service and during the Love Feast after that man...
Cell group... well they better remember that its my birthday la.
Muahahahahaha...
And I'm looking forward to my dinner with the jogging club after that. Tee hee...
Anyway, someone messaged me that she's feeling very sad tonight, for some reason or other... And she usually won't say why one la. But still, I know this is a song she likes, and its a happy song. I messaged her that I'll pray my happy karma reaches her, so here's the song... if she does tune in, then my happy karma did reach her.
Muahahahahaha...
Hehz...
Still, I had a pretty comprehensive work-out today. Totally expecting to ache like nobody's business tmr... Which, is when I will start on my next part-time project... Again back at Cougar warehouse. Hilarious thing is, this time round I roped Simon in to help out, and he was made 2 i/c. Muahahahahahaha... I told Ruth - "See how powerful and influencial I can be? Simon asked if I had any lobang for a job, and I got him a job as a 2 i/c on a project."
Tee hee.
Cheap thrill.
Ah well. Who cares...
At night we had a session of DotA. First round my team lost cos we were out-numbered la. Later when we balanced out the numbers, we totally owned the game. Hehz... Poor Joseph Sim took a beating like none he ever suffered before. Wuahahahahaha...
Lalalala...
Mm, my birthday's coming up oredi. I'm really really really hoping no one makes a fuss outta it. It used to be great when you're 17, that people all remember your birthdays. At 26 yrs old, its just embarrassing. Birthday songs and all... And its gonna be the Love Feast in church this sunday, right smack on the same day. Sigh. I know there are some out there who will accuse me of being thick skinned, but I seriously hope my name doesn't crop up at all during service and during the Love Feast after that man...
Cell group... well they better remember that its my birthday la.
Muahahahahaha...
And I'm looking forward to my dinner with the jogging club after that. Tee hee...
Anyway, someone messaged me that she's feeling very sad tonight, for some reason or other... And she usually won't say why one la. But still, I know this is a song she likes, and its a happy song. I messaged her that I'll pray my happy karma reaches her, so here's the song... if she does tune in, then my happy karma did reach her.
Muahahahahaha...
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
I Feel Like Feeling Sad...
Another weekend passes by. It was a pretty interesting evening at Serene's place, for the customary joggers. Simon's first time jogging with us, I believe. Ruth's first also. And it almost became Yenn Chuen's first time as well. Too bad he couldn't make it in the end. Also, it was one of the very very rare times, if not the first, where we didn't go back to the house to watch TV after dinner, but instead chose to sit around the dinner table, and to just talk and share. I guess we all are feeling the strain of ministry. Not just ours, but everyone's. Those past, present, and those we see on the track to burnout and fallout. The time was pretty poignant, as we shared about our concerns. I guess under these periods of stress, a lot of emotions are evoked.
The anger and frustration at things we see that aren't going well, or that aren't right, which we normally would have been better able to curb. The past hurts that come to mind again, triggered by the sight of someone going down that well-worn path we've tread before. The grief as we see those who bear such heavy burdens for whom we can do nothing except pray.
Lots of things came out that night. And I'm glad. That some of us in the core team can meet up, and be sharing and praying not just about ministry, but specifically about the people in ministry. Too often we've heard the theory, acknowledged how wrong it is, but still persisted in it, that the church sacrifices its people for the sake of ministry. That so many christans who start out eager and willing end up burnt out and hurt by a system that relentlessly takes from them, when its supposed to be nurturing, loving and giving. Ravi Zacharias once said in a book that the church is the only army that shoots its wounded. And how sadly right he is. I think at one level, Henry and I managed to really draw close cos we dentified so well with each other during our time of pain. The hurt, the confusion and the overall agony of feeling abandoned and betrayed. Well, at least I speak for myself.
I thank God that we've managed to overcome it at a certain level, and have returned stronger, and better equipped to help someone else go through the path that we tread. Yet at some level, the pain never really goes away. The scars are still there. Therein lies the greatest tragedy. Just as there are some words that can never be taken back once they're said out loud, esp to those whom we love, it is precisely so that some hurts in our lives will always be there to stay. They may lessen, and we may be less overcome by it, yet it still lingers.
Haunts.
I guess I'm reminded that as our ministry grows, we should not end up falling into the same trap, and be the progenitors of that which we once abhored. Our love for each other must always be unconditional. The day we reserve our absolute support and love only for those who have chosen to walk the same path as us, and invest their lives in the exact same goals as ours, then we've lost the love we were called to have already. And that's so hard. When someone I care for chooses to involved their lives in something else apart from that which I've invested my time in, its so easy to subconciously take it personally, and feel rejected. And to therefore withdraw my love.
Hopefully some time later down the minstry, I'd return to this post, and remind myself again.
Learn to be careful in choosing whom you love, Peng. And once you've decided, make sure the love you give is always unconditional. For that is the kind of love that has been given you, and the only love that is deserving of the One who gave it to you.
Unconditional.
That's my watchword for the week.
Ah well. Its been a long day... and I'm kindda tired. Its one of those days where I'm actually alright. I just... feel like... being sad. I dunno. I have (quite a lotta) days when I actually dun wanna feel happy. I wanna tone down, and be a little more depressed. When I dun feel like being happy. So I indulge in sad songs. Depressing songs. Haunting songs. Songs of regret, loss, pain. Kindda like how I like rain cos its so depressing.
Hehz...
Therefore the song that now plays. I really loved the lyrics when I first heard this oldie. Somehow it captures so well the sheer helplessness to do anything about his emotions, his frustration and his impotence at trying to help himself.
An excellent song, in fact.
Grins.
Enjoy.
The anger and frustration at things we see that aren't going well, or that aren't right, which we normally would have been better able to curb. The past hurts that come to mind again, triggered by the sight of someone going down that well-worn path we've tread before. The grief as we see those who bear such heavy burdens for whom we can do nothing except pray.
Lots of things came out that night. And I'm glad. That some of us in the core team can meet up, and be sharing and praying not just about ministry, but specifically about the people in ministry. Too often we've heard the theory, acknowledged how wrong it is, but still persisted in it, that the church sacrifices its people for the sake of ministry. That so many christans who start out eager and willing end up burnt out and hurt by a system that relentlessly takes from them, when its supposed to be nurturing, loving and giving. Ravi Zacharias once said in a book that the church is the only army that shoots its wounded. And how sadly right he is. I think at one level, Henry and I managed to really draw close cos we dentified so well with each other during our time of pain. The hurt, the confusion and the overall agony of feeling abandoned and betrayed. Well, at least I speak for myself.
I thank God that we've managed to overcome it at a certain level, and have returned stronger, and better equipped to help someone else go through the path that we tread. Yet at some level, the pain never really goes away. The scars are still there. Therein lies the greatest tragedy. Just as there are some words that can never be taken back once they're said out loud, esp to those whom we love, it is precisely so that some hurts in our lives will always be there to stay. They may lessen, and we may be less overcome by it, yet it still lingers.
Haunts.
I guess I'm reminded that as our ministry grows, we should not end up falling into the same trap, and be the progenitors of that which we once abhored. Our love for each other must always be unconditional. The day we reserve our absolute support and love only for those who have chosen to walk the same path as us, and invest their lives in the exact same goals as ours, then we've lost the love we were called to have already. And that's so hard. When someone I care for chooses to involved their lives in something else apart from that which I've invested my time in, its so easy to subconciously take it personally, and feel rejected. And to therefore withdraw my love.
Hopefully some time later down the minstry, I'd return to this post, and remind myself again.
Learn to be careful in choosing whom you love, Peng. And once you've decided, make sure the love you give is always unconditional. For that is the kind of love that has been given you, and the only love that is deserving of the One who gave it to you.
Unconditional.
That's my watchword for the week.
Ah well. Its been a long day... and I'm kindda tired. Its one of those days where I'm actually alright. I just... feel like... being sad. I dunno. I have (quite a lotta) days when I actually dun wanna feel happy. I wanna tone down, and be a little more depressed. When I dun feel like being happy. So I indulge in sad songs. Depressing songs. Haunting songs. Songs of regret, loss, pain. Kindda like how I like rain cos its so depressing.
Hehz...
Therefore the song that now plays. I really loved the lyrics when I first heard this oldie. Somehow it captures so well the sheer helplessness to do anything about his emotions, his frustration and his impotence at trying to help himself.
An excellent song, in fact.
Grins.
Enjoy.
Friday, July 01, 2005
For Sho
"Dear friends,
Today at around 2:30PM, Sho Ishii passed away.
All along he had been doing so well. And today Kaoru said that he was singing praise songs and dancing. But then he got a stomach pain and just a few minutes later, he lost consciousness. The doctors worked hard to revive him, but they couldn't. Kaoru was there with him and Seiji got there just in time to see him before he passed on. Kaoru said, "Papa is here," Sho opened his eyes one last time and that was it.
The official report is that Sho died from heart failure from complications of pneumonia. But they really don't know what happened. Everyone was shocked. I helped Seiji at the hospital. The nurse in charge led us to the room where Sho was and there were two rows of nurses around Sho; they were weeping. It was a moving moment. Everyone loved Sho because Sho loved everyone and was such a bright shining light in his ward.
Please uphold Seiji, Kaoru and Saki."
Life can really be so unpredictable. Its one of the classical cliches, that somehow always still manges to catch us by surprise whenever it throws one of its twists into our lives.
I had a really really good day yesterday, all in all. Right until I went home to read the email about how Seiji's son, Sho, suddenly passed away from complications of pneumonia. He contracted leukemia a couple of years ago, and had only recently undergone bone-marrow transplant. Everything was looking good, and there were plans to release him from the hospital, when he suddenly developed stomach pains, then he was gone in moments. He had just turned 5 two weeks ago.
Seiji has been one of the only people from Nagoya I still pray for, ever since I learnt about Sho. I get regular updates from Jody about the ministry there, and I keep up, every now and then praying for them when there's a need. But I had made a point to try and consistently keep Sho in prayer. So it comes as twice a shock and blow to learn that he's passed away so suddenly.
Guess we can only pray for Seiji's family now, that God will bring them His peace and comfort after their period of mourning, and that they will be able to continue to trust His heart.
Today at around 2:30PM, Sho Ishii passed away.
All along he had been doing so well. And today Kaoru said that he was singing praise songs and dancing. But then he got a stomach pain and just a few minutes later, he lost consciousness. The doctors worked hard to revive him, but they couldn't. Kaoru was there with him and Seiji got there just in time to see him before he passed on. Kaoru said, "Papa is here," Sho opened his eyes one last time and that was it.
The official report is that Sho died from heart failure from complications of pneumonia. But they really don't know what happened. Everyone was shocked. I helped Seiji at the hospital. The nurse in charge led us to the room where Sho was and there were two rows of nurses around Sho; they were weeping. It was a moving moment. Everyone loved Sho because Sho loved everyone and was such a bright shining light in his ward.
Please uphold Seiji, Kaoru and Saki."
Life can really be so unpredictable. Its one of the classical cliches, that somehow always still manges to catch us by surprise whenever it throws one of its twists into our lives.
I had a really really good day yesterday, all in all. Right until I went home to read the email about how Seiji's son, Sho, suddenly passed away from complications of pneumonia. He contracted leukemia a couple of years ago, and had only recently undergone bone-marrow transplant. Everything was looking good, and there were plans to release him from the hospital, when he suddenly developed stomach pains, then he was gone in moments. He had just turned 5 two weeks ago.
Seiji has been one of the only people from Nagoya I still pray for, ever since I learnt about Sho. I get regular updates from Jody about the ministry there, and I keep up, every now and then praying for them when there's a need. But I had made a point to try and consistently keep Sho in prayer. So it comes as twice a shock and blow to learn that he's passed away so suddenly.
Guess we can only pray for Seiji's family now, that God will bring them His peace and comfort after their period of mourning, and that they will be able to continue to trust His heart.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
FORGIVEN
(As promised, another of my fav stories... Grins)
It had been three years since Lisa last opened the box. A sudden move to Boston had kept her from packing it. But now that she was back home, she took the time to look again at the memories. Fingering the corners of the box and stroking its cover, Lisa pictured in her mind what was inside. There was a photo of the family trip to the Grand Canyon, a note from her friend telling her that Nick Bicotti liked her, and the Indian arrowhead she had found while on her senior class trip.
One by one, she remembered the items in the box, lingering over the sweetest, until she came to the last and only painful memory. She knew what it looked like--a single sheet of paper upon which lines had been drawn to form boxes, 490 of them to be exact. And each box contained a check mark, one for each time.
"How many times must I forgive my brother?" the disciple Peter had asked Jesus. "Seven times?" Lisa's Sunday school teacher had read Jesus's surprise answer to the class. "Seventy times seven." Lisa had leaned over to her brother Brent as the teacher continued reading.
"How many times is that?" she whispered. Brent, though two years younger, was smarter than she was.
"Four hundred and ninety," Brent wrote on the corner of his Sunday school paper. Lisa saw the message, nodded, and sat back in her chair. She watched her brother as the lesson continued. He was small for his age, with narrow shoulders and short arms. His glasses were too large for his face, and his hair always matted in swirls. He bordered on being a nerd, but his incredible skills at everything, especially music, made him popular with his classmates.
Brent had learned to play the piano at age four, the clarinet at age seven, and had just begun to play oboe. His music teachers said he'd be a famous musician someday. There was only one thing at which Lisa was better than Brent--basketball. They played it almost every afternoon after school. Brent could have refused to play, but he knew that it was Lisa's only joy in the midst of her struggles to get C's and D's at school.
Lisa's attention came back to her Sunday school teacher as the woman finished the lesson and closed with prayer. That same Sunday afternoon found brother and sister playing basketball in the driveway. It was then that the counting had begun. Brent was guarding Lisa as she dribbled toward the basket. He had tried to bat the ball away, got his face near her elbow, and took a shot on the chin. "Ow!” he cried out and turned away. Lisa saw her opening and drove to the basket, making an easy lay-up. She gloated over her success but stopped when she saw Brent.
"You okay?", she asked. Brent shrugged his shoulders.
"Sorry," Lisa said. "Really. It was a cheap shot."
"It's all right. I forgive you," he said.
A thin smile then formed on his face. "Just 489 more times though."
"Whaddaya mean?" Lisa asked.
"You know...what we learned in Sunday school today. You're supposed to forgive someone 490 times. I just forgave you, so now you have 489 left," he kidded. The two of them laughed at the thought of keeping track of every time Lisa had done something to Brent. They were sure she had gone past 490 long ago.
The rain interrupted their game, and the two moved indoors. "Wanna play Battleship?" Lisa asked. Brent agreed, and they were soon on the floor of the living room with their game boards in front of them. Each took turns calling out a letter and number combination, hoping to hit each other's ships. Lisa knew she was in trouble as the game went on. Brent had only lost one ship out of five. Lisa had lost three. Desperate to win, she found herself leaning over the edge of Brent's barrier ever so slightly. She was thus able to see where Brent had placed two ships. She quickly evened the score. Pleased, Lisa searched once more for the location of the last two ships. She peered over the barrier again, but this time Brent caught her in the act.
"Hey, you're cheating!" He stared at her in disbelief. Lisa's face turned red. Her lips quivered. "I'm sorry," she said, staring at the floor. There was not much Brent could say. He knew Lisa sometimes did things like this. He felt sorry that Lisa found so few things she could do well. It was wrong for her to cheat, but he knew the temptation was hard for her.
"Okay, I forgive you," Brent said. Then he added with a small laugh, "I guess it's down to 488 now, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess so." She returned his kindness with a weak smile and added, "Thanks for being my brother, Brent."
Brent's forgiving spirit gripped Lisa, and she wanted him to know how sorry she was. It was that evening that she had made the chart with the 490 boxes. She showed it to him before he went to bed. "We can keep track of every time I mess up and you forgive me," she said. "See, I'll put a check in each box--like this." She placed two marks in the upper left-hand boxes.
"These are for today." Brent raised his hands to protest. "You don't need to keep--"
"Yes I do!" Lisa interrupted. "You're always forgiving me, and I want to keep track. Just let me do this!" She went back to her room and tacked the chart to her bulletin board.
There were many opportunities to fill in the chart in the years that followed. She once told the kids at school that Brent talked in his sleep and called out Rhonda Hill's name, even though it wasn't true. The teasing caused Brent days and days of misery. When she realized how cruel she had been, Lisa apologized sincerely. That night she marked box number 96.
Forgiveness number 211 came in the tenth grade when Lisa failed to bring home his English book. Brent had stayed home sick that day and had asked her to bring it so he could study for a quiz. She forgot and he got a C.
Number 393 was for lost keys...418 for the extra bleach she put in the washer, which ruined his favorite polo shirt...449, the dent she had put in his car when she had borrowed it.
There was a small ceremony when Lisa checked number 490. She used a gold pen for the check mark, had Brent sign the chart, and then placed it in her memory box. "I guess that's the end," Lisa said. "No more screw-ups from me anymore!" Brent just laughed. "Yeah, right."
Number 491 was just another one of Lisa's careless mistakes, but its hurt lasted a lifetime. Brent had become all that his music teachers said he would. Few could play the oboe better than he. In his fourth year at the best music school in the United States, he received the opportunity of a lifetime--a chance to try out for New York City's great orchestra.
The tryout would be held sometime during the following two weeks. It would be the fulfillment of his young dreams. But he never got the chance. Brent had been out when the call about the tryout came to the house. Lisa was the only one home and on her way out the door, eager to get to work on time. "Two-thirty on the tenth," the secretary said on the phone. Lisa did not have a pen, but she told herself that she could remember it. "Got it. Thanks." I can remember that, she thought. But she did not. It was a week later around the dinner table that Lisa realized her mistake. "So, Brent," his mom asked him, "When do you try out?"
"Don't know yet. They're supposed to call." Lisa froze in her seat.
"Oh, no!" she blurted out loud. "What's today's date? Quick!"
"It's the twelfth," her dad answered. "Why?" A terrible pain ripped through Lisa's heart. She buried her face in her hands and started crying. "Lisa, what's the matter?" her mother asked. Through sobs Lisa explained what had happened. "It was two days ago...the tryout...two-thirty...the call came...last week."
Brent sat back in his chair, not believing Lisa. "Is this one of your jokes, sis?" he asked, though he could tell her misery was real. She shook her head, still unable to look at him. "Then I really missed it?" She nodded.
Brent ran out of the kitchen without a word. He did not come out of his room the rest of the evening. Lisa tried once to knock on the door, but she could not face him. She went to her room where she cried bitterly. Suddenly she knew that she had to do. She had ruined Brent's life. He could never forgive her for that. She had failed her family, and there was nothing to do but to leave home. Lisa packed her pickup truck in the middle of the night and left a note behind, telling her folks she'd be all right.
She began writing a note to Brent, but her words sounded empty to her. Nothing I say could make a difference anyway, she thought.
Two days later she got a job as a waitress in Boston. She found an apartment not too far from the restaurant. Her parents tried many times to reach her, but Lisa ignored their letters. “It’s too late," she wrote them once. "I've ruined Brent's life, and I'm not coming back." Lisa did not think she would ever see home again. But one day in the restaurant where she worked she saw a face she knew.
"Lisa!" said Mrs. Nelson, looking up from her plate. "What a surprise."
The woman was a friend of Lisa's family from back home. “I was so sorry to hear about your brother," Mrs. Nelson said softly.
"Such a terrible accident. But we can be thankful that he died quickly. He didn't suffer." Lisa stared at the woman in shock.
"Wh-hat," she finally stammered. It couldn't be! Her brother? Dead? The woman quickly saw that Lisa did not know about the accident. She told the girl the sad story of the speeding car, the rush to the hospital, the doctors working over Brent. But all they could do was not enough to save him.
Lisa returned home that afternoon.
********
Now she found herself in her room thinking about her brother as she held the small box that held some of her memories of him. Sadly, she opened the box and peered inside. It was as she remembered, except for one item--Brent's chart. It was not there. In its place, at the bottom of the box, was an envelope. Her hands shook as she tore it open and removed a letter. The first page read:
Dear Lisa,
It was you who kept count, not me. But if you're stubborn enough to keep count, use the new chart I've made for you.
Love,Brent
Lisa turned to the second page where she found a chart just like the one she had made as a child, but on this one the lines were drawn in perfect precision. And unlike the chart she had kept, there was but one check mark in the upper left- hand corner. Written in red felt tip pen over the entire page were the words:
"NUMBER 491. Forgiven, FOREVER."
It had been three years since Lisa last opened the box. A sudden move to Boston had kept her from packing it. But now that she was back home, she took the time to look again at the memories. Fingering the corners of the box and stroking its cover, Lisa pictured in her mind what was inside. There was a photo of the family trip to the Grand Canyon, a note from her friend telling her that Nick Bicotti liked her, and the Indian arrowhead she had found while on her senior class trip.
One by one, she remembered the items in the box, lingering over the sweetest, until she came to the last and only painful memory. She knew what it looked like--a single sheet of paper upon which lines had been drawn to form boxes, 490 of them to be exact. And each box contained a check mark, one for each time.
"How many times must I forgive my brother?" the disciple Peter had asked Jesus. "Seven times?" Lisa's Sunday school teacher had read Jesus's surprise answer to the class. "Seventy times seven." Lisa had leaned over to her brother Brent as the teacher continued reading.
"How many times is that?" she whispered. Brent, though two years younger, was smarter than she was.
"Four hundred and ninety," Brent wrote on the corner of his Sunday school paper. Lisa saw the message, nodded, and sat back in her chair. She watched her brother as the lesson continued. He was small for his age, with narrow shoulders and short arms. His glasses were too large for his face, and his hair always matted in swirls. He bordered on being a nerd, but his incredible skills at everything, especially music, made him popular with his classmates.
Brent had learned to play the piano at age four, the clarinet at age seven, and had just begun to play oboe. His music teachers said he'd be a famous musician someday. There was only one thing at which Lisa was better than Brent--basketball. They played it almost every afternoon after school. Brent could have refused to play, but he knew that it was Lisa's only joy in the midst of her struggles to get C's and D's at school.
Lisa's attention came back to her Sunday school teacher as the woman finished the lesson and closed with prayer. That same Sunday afternoon found brother and sister playing basketball in the driveway. It was then that the counting had begun. Brent was guarding Lisa as she dribbled toward the basket. He had tried to bat the ball away, got his face near her elbow, and took a shot on the chin. "Ow!” he cried out and turned away. Lisa saw her opening and drove to the basket, making an easy lay-up. She gloated over her success but stopped when she saw Brent.
"You okay?", she asked. Brent shrugged his shoulders.
"Sorry," Lisa said. "Really. It was a cheap shot."
"It's all right. I forgive you," he said.
A thin smile then formed on his face. "Just 489 more times though."
"Whaddaya mean?" Lisa asked.
"You know...what we learned in Sunday school today. You're supposed to forgive someone 490 times. I just forgave you, so now you have 489 left," he kidded. The two of them laughed at the thought of keeping track of every time Lisa had done something to Brent. They were sure she had gone past 490 long ago.
The rain interrupted their game, and the two moved indoors. "Wanna play Battleship?" Lisa asked. Brent agreed, and they were soon on the floor of the living room with their game boards in front of them. Each took turns calling out a letter and number combination, hoping to hit each other's ships. Lisa knew she was in trouble as the game went on. Brent had only lost one ship out of five. Lisa had lost three. Desperate to win, she found herself leaning over the edge of Brent's barrier ever so slightly. She was thus able to see where Brent had placed two ships. She quickly evened the score. Pleased, Lisa searched once more for the location of the last two ships. She peered over the barrier again, but this time Brent caught her in the act.
"Hey, you're cheating!" He stared at her in disbelief. Lisa's face turned red. Her lips quivered. "I'm sorry," she said, staring at the floor. There was not much Brent could say. He knew Lisa sometimes did things like this. He felt sorry that Lisa found so few things she could do well. It was wrong for her to cheat, but he knew the temptation was hard for her.
"Okay, I forgive you," Brent said. Then he added with a small laugh, "I guess it's down to 488 now, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess so." She returned his kindness with a weak smile and added, "Thanks for being my brother, Brent."
Brent's forgiving spirit gripped Lisa, and she wanted him to know how sorry she was. It was that evening that she had made the chart with the 490 boxes. She showed it to him before he went to bed. "We can keep track of every time I mess up and you forgive me," she said. "See, I'll put a check in each box--like this." She placed two marks in the upper left-hand boxes.
"These are for today." Brent raised his hands to protest. "You don't need to keep--"
"Yes I do!" Lisa interrupted. "You're always forgiving me, and I want to keep track. Just let me do this!" She went back to her room and tacked the chart to her bulletin board.
There were many opportunities to fill in the chart in the years that followed. She once told the kids at school that Brent talked in his sleep and called out Rhonda Hill's name, even though it wasn't true. The teasing caused Brent days and days of misery. When she realized how cruel she had been, Lisa apologized sincerely. That night she marked box number 96.
Forgiveness number 211 came in the tenth grade when Lisa failed to bring home his English book. Brent had stayed home sick that day and had asked her to bring it so he could study for a quiz. She forgot and he got a C.
Number 393 was for lost keys...418 for the extra bleach she put in the washer, which ruined his favorite polo shirt...449, the dent she had put in his car when she had borrowed it.
There was a small ceremony when Lisa checked number 490. She used a gold pen for the check mark, had Brent sign the chart, and then placed it in her memory box. "I guess that's the end," Lisa said. "No more screw-ups from me anymore!" Brent just laughed. "Yeah, right."
Number 491 was just another one of Lisa's careless mistakes, but its hurt lasted a lifetime. Brent had become all that his music teachers said he would. Few could play the oboe better than he. In his fourth year at the best music school in the United States, he received the opportunity of a lifetime--a chance to try out for New York City's great orchestra.
The tryout would be held sometime during the following two weeks. It would be the fulfillment of his young dreams. But he never got the chance. Brent had been out when the call about the tryout came to the house. Lisa was the only one home and on her way out the door, eager to get to work on time. "Two-thirty on the tenth," the secretary said on the phone. Lisa did not have a pen, but she told herself that she could remember it. "Got it. Thanks." I can remember that, she thought. But she did not. It was a week later around the dinner table that Lisa realized her mistake. "So, Brent," his mom asked him, "When do you try out?"
"Don't know yet. They're supposed to call." Lisa froze in her seat.
"Oh, no!" she blurted out loud. "What's today's date? Quick!"
"It's the twelfth," her dad answered. "Why?" A terrible pain ripped through Lisa's heart. She buried her face in her hands and started crying. "Lisa, what's the matter?" her mother asked. Through sobs Lisa explained what had happened. "It was two days ago...the tryout...two-thirty...the call came...last week."
Brent sat back in his chair, not believing Lisa. "Is this one of your jokes, sis?" he asked, though he could tell her misery was real. She shook her head, still unable to look at him. "Then I really missed it?" She nodded.
Brent ran out of the kitchen without a word. He did not come out of his room the rest of the evening. Lisa tried once to knock on the door, but she could not face him. She went to her room where she cried bitterly. Suddenly she knew that she had to do. She had ruined Brent's life. He could never forgive her for that. She had failed her family, and there was nothing to do but to leave home. Lisa packed her pickup truck in the middle of the night and left a note behind, telling her folks she'd be all right.
She began writing a note to Brent, but her words sounded empty to her. Nothing I say could make a difference anyway, she thought.
Two days later she got a job as a waitress in Boston. She found an apartment not too far from the restaurant. Her parents tried many times to reach her, but Lisa ignored their letters. “It’s too late," she wrote them once. "I've ruined Brent's life, and I'm not coming back." Lisa did not think she would ever see home again. But one day in the restaurant where she worked she saw a face she knew.
"Lisa!" said Mrs. Nelson, looking up from her plate. "What a surprise."
The woman was a friend of Lisa's family from back home. “I was so sorry to hear about your brother," Mrs. Nelson said softly.
"Such a terrible accident. But we can be thankful that he died quickly. He didn't suffer." Lisa stared at the woman in shock.
"Wh-hat," she finally stammered. It couldn't be! Her brother? Dead? The woman quickly saw that Lisa did not know about the accident. She told the girl the sad story of the speeding car, the rush to the hospital, the doctors working over Brent. But all they could do was not enough to save him.
Lisa returned home that afternoon.
********
Now she found herself in her room thinking about her brother as she held the small box that held some of her memories of him. Sadly, she opened the box and peered inside. It was as she remembered, except for one item--Brent's chart. It was not there. In its place, at the bottom of the box, was an envelope. Her hands shook as she tore it open and removed a letter. The first page read:
Dear Lisa,
It was you who kept count, not me. But if you're stubborn enough to keep count, use the new chart I've made for you.
Love,Brent
Lisa turned to the second page where she found a chart just like the one she had made as a child, but on this one the lines were drawn in perfect precision. And unlike the chart she had kept, there was but one check mark in the upper left- hand corner. Written in red felt tip pen over the entire page were the words:
"NUMBER 491. Forgiven, FOREVER."
My Prodigious Life
Just watched Batman Begins this afternoon with Jingliang. I guess of all the Batman series I've watched, I liked this the best. Its by far the darkest and therefore probably one of the most faithful to the original productions I've watched.
Plagued by guilt, anger, doubts and more guilt, he was always the caped crusader with no super-powers, but was truly a mere mortal trying to seek redemption for society, in order to find redemption for himself.
Lots of things inside the show triggered thoughts in me, of what I liked about Batman when I first started watching and reading about him. The most obvious being the mask he wears to hide his identity, and what he tells the cop in the movie "I don't have the luxury of friends". His chronic pessimism that no one would understand if he ever reveals himself, and his resulting polemic nature by day and by night. I remember just smiling to myself when twice Alfred and Bruce Wayne exchanged the same lines of how Alfred never did give up on him. The reiteration was especially poignant for me, in a very pesonal way.
I guess in many ways I'm still looking for my Alfred, that one person that hopes against reason, and even hopes against hope, in me. And if that person turns out to be a girl, I'd marry her right away. Grins. But seriously, I'm someone who thrives on trust and faith. Keep faith in me and I'm motivated to do better. But if I get a hint that some have withdrawn their trust, I let go too easily.
Perhaps that's one thing that has served as a profound anchor in my walk with God. Despite all my periods of spiritual wilderness, through all the darkest moments of my last few years, despite the sense that God has remained silent towards me for the longest time, I don't feel abandoned. There's still a deep abiding sense that God is still there.
And mebbe that's why if ever anyone asks me what my favorite story is, its the story of the prodigal son. The ne'er do good son who has just about exhausted all the patience he deserves, and then some. He probably has already used up the seventy times seven forgiveness Jesus said we're each entitled to. There have been moments when my meditation on that parable reduces me to tears at the lavishness of God's grace, and the depth of His love. That ever abiding faith and love in me, that everytime I come back to Him again after having failed Him, I hear Him telling me that His going up the cross for me was worth it. That He's never regretted doing it.
And as I search for my Alfred here on earth, I guess I'm also reminded that I haver to learn to be one. And I think that's why I place such a fierce premium on loyalty and trust on my friendships. That I never judge a friend as "not being worth my time anymore till he/she learns the folly of his/her ways". Cos I've been there before, on that path of self destruction, and I know what it feels like to have been the one trampled on, or at least the one being judged.
I think of Bruce Wayne, and how people judge him by day, not knowing of the struggles he has inside of him. And again I'm reminded of my favorite quote, that we all live lives of quiet desperation. And I'm again humbled by how profound it can be when Jesus reminds us not to judge the speck in another's eyes. That very often when we privately tag a value on a person based on our own values, it is nothing short of sheer arrogance because a look inside very often reveals we have the same thing in us, and probably more.
Yes, I'm having a wierd epiphany-ish sort of night as I let my thoughts drift. Lotsa verses keep coming to mind, and somehow tagging themselves to the random thoughts I'm having.
I'm going to the gym early tmr, so I better go sleep now. I'm gonna post another story after this, that pretty much is the theme of my thoughts tonight, on forgiveness, and how it is synonymous with grace, faithfulness and abiding trust.
Also, this song "Jennifer", is obviously based on the parable of the prodigal son. Only, this time a daughter. I felt that the song so very well captured the kind of lavishness and value placed upon us by God Himself.
Plagued by guilt, anger, doubts and more guilt, he was always the caped crusader with no super-powers, but was truly a mere mortal trying to seek redemption for society, in order to find redemption for himself.
Lots of things inside the show triggered thoughts in me, of what I liked about Batman when I first started watching and reading about him. The most obvious being the mask he wears to hide his identity, and what he tells the cop in the movie "I don't have the luxury of friends". His chronic pessimism that no one would understand if he ever reveals himself, and his resulting polemic nature by day and by night. I remember just smiling to myself when twice Alfred and Bruce Wayne exchanged the same lines of how Alfred never did give up on him. The reiteration was especially poignant for me, in a very pesonal way.
I guess in many ways I'm still looking for my Alfred, that one person that hopes against reason, and even hopes against hope, in me. And if that person turns out to be a girl, I'd marry her right away. Grins. But seriously, I'm someone who thrives on trust and faith. Keep faith in me and I'm motivated to do better. But if I get a hint that some have withdrawn their trust, I let go too easily.
Perhaps that's one thing that has served as a profound anchor in my walk with God. Despite all my periods of spiritual wilderness, through all the darkest moments of my last few years, despite the sense that God has remained silent towards me for the longest time, I don't feel abandoned. There's still a deep abiding sense that God is still there.
And mebbe that's why if ever anyone asks me what my favorite story is, its the story of the prodigal son. The ne'er do good son who has just about exhausted all the patience he deserves, and then some. He probably has already used up the seventy times seven forgiveness Jesus said we're each entitled to. There have been moments when my meditation on that parable reduces me to tears at the lavishness of God's grace, and the depth of His love. That ever abiding faith and love in me, that everytime I come back to Him again after having failed Him, I hear Him telling me that His going up the cross for me was worth it. That He's never regretted doing it.
And as I search for my Alfred here on earth, I guess I'm also reminded that I haver to learn to be one. And I think that's why I place such a fierce premium on loyalty and trust on my friendships. That I never judge a friend as "not being worth my time anymore till he/she learns the folly of his/her ways". Cos I've been there before, on that path of self destruction, and I know what it feels like to have been the one trampled on, or at least the one being judged.
I think of Bruce Wayne, and how people judge him by day, not knowing of the struggles he has inside of him. And again I'm reminded of my favorite quote, that we all live lives of quiet desperation. And I'm again humbled by how profound it can be when Jesus reminds us not to judge the speck in another's eyes. That very often when we privately tag a value on a person based on our own values, it is nothing short of sheer arrogance because a look inside very often reveals we have the same thing in us, and probably more.
Yes, I'm having a wierd epiphany-ish sort of night as I let my thoughts drift. Lotsa verses keep coming to mind, and somehow tagging themselves to the random thoughts I'm having.
I'm going to the gym early tmr, so I better go sleep now. I'm gonna post another story after this, that pretty much is the theme of my thoughts tonight, on forgiveness, and how it is synonymous with grace, faithfulness and abiding trust.
Also, this song "Jennifer", is obviously based on the parable of the prodigal son. Only, this time a daughter. I felt that the song so very well captured the kind of lavishness and value placed upon us by God Himself.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
The Price Of Love
(One of my fav articles from Readers Digest, a long long time ago...)
If only I could keep the kids from naming him. That would be the trick.
“No family needs two dogs,” I began dogmatically. And so I invoked the Bauer Anonymity Rule, which prohibits the naming of any animal not on the endangered species list. That includes anything that walks or squawks, sings or swims, hops, crawls, flies or yodels, because at our place a pet named is a pet claimed.
“But we gotta call him something,” our four children protested.
“All right, then, call him Dog X,” I suggested. They frowned, but I thought it the perfect handle for something I hoped would float away like a generic soap powder.
My no-name strategy proved a dismal failure, however. Long before the pup was weaned, the kids secretly began calling him Scampy, and before I knew it he had become as much a fixture as the fireplace. And just as immovable.
All of this could have been avoided, I fumed, if Andy, a neighborhood mutt, had only stayed on his side of the street. But at age 14, this scruffy, arthritic mongrel hobbled into our yard for a tête-à-tête with our blue-blooded schnauzer, Baroness Heidi on her AKC papers, who was a ten-year Old Maid. Before one could say “safe-sex,” we had a miracle. We were unaware that Andy left his calling card until the middle of one night during our spring vacation at the beach. I thought the moaning sounds was the ocean. But investigation revealed it was from Heidi, whom Shirley, my wife, pronounced in labour. “I thought she was getting fat,” I mumbled sleepily.
When morning brought no relief or delivery, we found a vet who informed us that a big pup was blocking the birth canal, which could be fatal to Heidi. We wrung our hands for the rest of the day, phoning every couple of hours for an update. Not until evening was our dog pronounced out of danger.
“She was carrying three,” the doctor reported, “but only one survived.” The kids took one look at the male pup, a ragamuffin ball of string - red string, brown string, black string, tan string, gray string - and exclaimed, “Andy! He looks just like Andy.” And there was no mistaking the father. Heidi’s only genetic contribution seemed to be his schnauzer beard. Otherwise, he was an eclectic mix of terrier, collie, beagle and setter.
“Have you ever seen anything so homely?” I asked Shirley.
“He’s adorable,” she answered admiringly. Too admiringly.
“I only hope someone else thinks so. His days with us are numbered.” But I might as well have saved my breath. By the time Dog X reached ten weeks, our kids were more attached to him than barnacles to a boat’s bottom. I tried to ignore him.
“Look at how good he is catching a ball, Dad,” Christopher pointed out. I grunted noncommittally. And when Andy’s folly performed his tricks - sit, fetch, roll over, play dead - and the kids touted his smarts, I hid behind a newspaper.
One thing I could not deny: he had the ears of a watchdog, detecting every sound that came from the driveway or yard. Heidi, his aging mother, heard nothing but his barking, which interrupted her frequent naps. He, on the other hand, was in perpetual motion. When the kids went off on their bikes or I put on my jogging shoes, he wanted to go along. If left behind, he chased squirrels. Occasionally, by now, I slipped and called him Scampy.
Then in the autumn, after six months of family nurture and adoration, Scampy suffered a setback. Squealing tires and brakes announced that he had chased one too many squirrels into the street. The accident fractured his left hind leg, which the vet put in a splint. We were all relieved to hear his prognosis: complete recovery. But then a week later the second shoe dropped.
“Gangrene,” Shirley told me one evening. “The vet says amputate or he’ll have to be put to sleep.” I slumped down in a chair.
“There’s little choice,” I said. “It’s not fair to make an active dog like Scampy struggle around on three legs the rest of his life.” Suddenly the kids, who had been eavesdropping, flew into the room.
“They don’t kill a person who has a bad leg," Steve and Laraine argued.
Buying time, I told them, “We’ll decide tomorrow.” After the kids were in bed, Shirley and I talked.
“It will be hard for them to give up Scampy,” she sympathized.
“Especially Christopher,” I replied. “I was about his age when I lost Queenie.” Then I told her about my favorite dog, a statuesque white spitz whose fluffy coat rolled like ocean waves when she ran. But Queenie developed a crippling problem with her back legs, and finally my dad said she would have to be put down.
“But she can get well, “ I pleaded. I prayed with all my might that God would help her walk again. But she got worse.
One night after dinner I went to the basement, where she slept beside the furnace. At the bottom of the stairs, I met Dad. His face was drained of color, and he carried a strange, strong-smelling rag in his hand.
“I’m sorry, but Queenie’s dead,” he told me gently. I broke into tears and threw myself into his arms. I don’t know how long I sobbed, but after a while I became aware he was crying too. I remember how pleased I was to learn he felt the same way.
Between eye wiping and nose blowing, I told him, “I don’t ever want another dog. It hurts too much when they die.”
“You’re right about the hurt, son,” he answered, “but that’s the price of love.”
The next day, after conferring with the vet and the family, I reluctantly agreed to have Scampy’s leg amputated. “If a child’s faith can make him well, “ I remarked to Shirley, “then he’ll recover four times over.” And he did. Miraculously.
If I needed any poof that he was his old self, it came a short time after his operation. Watching from the kitchen window, I saw a fat grey squirrel creep toward the bird feeder. Slowly the sunning dog pulled himself into attack position. When the squirrel got to within a dozen feet, Scampy launched himself. Using his hind leg like a pogo stick, he rocketed into the yard and gave one bushy tail the scare of its life.
Soon Scampy was back catching balls, tagging along with the kids, running with me as I jogged. The remarkable thing was the way he compensated for his missing appendage. He invented a new stroke for his lone rear leg, moving it piston-like from side to side to achieve both power and stability.
His enthusiasm and energy suffered no loss. “The best thing about Scampy,” a neighbor said, “ is that he doesn’t know he has a handicap. Either that or he ignores it, which is the best way for all of us to deal with such things.”
Not that everyone saw him in a positive light. On the playground, some youngsters reacted as if he were a prime candidate for a Stephen King horror flick. “Look out,” shouted one boy, “here comes Monster Dog!” Tripod and Hopalong were other tags. Our kids laughed off his detractors and introduced him as “Scampy, the greatest three-legged dog in the world.”
For better than five years, Scampy gave us an object lesson in courage, demonstrating what it means to do your best with what you’ve got. On our daily runs I often carried on conversations with him as if he understood every single word. “I almost shipped you out as a pup,” I’d recount to him, “but the kids wouldn’t let me. They knew how wonderful you were.” It was obvious from the way he studied my face and wagged his tail that he liked to hear how special he was.
He probably would have continued to strut his stuff for a lot longer had he been less combative. In scraps in which he was clearly overmatched, he lacked two essentials for longevity – discretion and, partly because of his surgery, an effective reverse gear.
One warm August night he didn’t return at his normal time, and the next morning he showed up, gasping for air and bloody around the neck. He obviously had been in a fight, and I suspected a badly punctured windpipe or lung.
“Scampy, when will you learn?” I asked as I patted his head. He looked at me with those trusting eyes and licked my hand, but he was too weak to wag his tail. Christopher and Daniel helped me sponge him down and get him to the vet, but my diagnosis proved too accurate. By midday, “the greatest three legged dog in the world” as gone.
That evening Christopher and I drove up to the vet’s office, gathered up the black plastic bag that held Scampy and headed home. Scampy’s mother had died at 15 a few months before; now we would bury him next to her in the woods by the garden.
As we drove, I tried to engage Christopher in conversation, but he was silent, apparently sorting through his feelings. “I’ve seen lots of dogs, Christopher,” I said, “but Scampy was something special.”
“Yep,” he answered, staring into the darkness.
“He was certainly one of the smartest.” Christopher didn’t answer. From flashes of light that passed through the car I could see him dabbing his eyes. Finally he looked at me and spoke.
“There’s only one thing I’m sure of, Dad,” he choked out through tears. “I don’t want another dog. It feels so bad to lose them.”
“Yes, I know,” I said. Then, drawing on a voice and words that were not my own, I added, “But that’s the price of love.”
Now his sobs were audible, and I was having trouble seeing the road myself. I pulled off at a service station and stopped the car. There, I put my arms around him and with my tears let him know – just as my father had shown me – that his loss was my loss too.
If only I could keep the kids from naming him. That would be the trick.
“No family needs two dogs,” I began dogmatically. And so I invoked the Bauer Anonymity Rule, which prohibits the naming of any animal not on the endangered species list. That includes anything that walks or squawks, sings or swims, hops, crawls, flies or yodels, because at our place a pet named is a pet claimed.
“But we gotta call him something,” our four children protested.
“All right, then, call him Dog X,” I suggested. They frowned, but I thought it the perfect handle for something I hoped would float away like a generic soap powder.
My no-name strategy proved a dismal failure, however. Long before the pup was weaned, the kids secretly began calling him Scampy, and before I knew it he had become as much a fixture as the fireplace. And just as immovable.
All of this could have been avoided, I fumed, if Andy, a neighborhood mutt, had only stayed on his side of the street. But at age 14, this scruffy, arthritic mongrel hobbled into our yard for a tête-à-tête with our blue-blooded schnauzer, Baroness Heidi on her AKC papers, who was a ten-year Old Maid. Before one could say “safe-sex,” we had a miracle. We were unaware that Andy left his calling card until the middle of one night during our spring vacation at the beach. I thought the moaning sounds was the ocean. But investigation revealed it was from Heidi, whom Shirley, my wife, pronounced in labour. “I thought she was getting fat,” I mumbled sleepily.
When morning brought no relief or delivery, we found a vet who informed us that a big pup was blocking the birth canal, which could be fatal to Heidi. We wrung our hands for the rest of the day, phoning every couple of hours for an update. Not until evening was our dog pronounced out of danger.
“She was carrying three,” the doctor reported, “but only one survived.” The kids took one look at the male pup, a ragamuffin ball of string - red string, brown string, black string, tan string, gray string - and exclaimed, “Andy! He looks just like Andy.” And there was no mistaking the father. Heidi’s only genetic contribution seemed to be his schnauzer beard. Otherwise, he was an eclectic mix of terrier, collie, beagle and setter.
“Have you ever seen anything so homely?” I asked Shirley.
“He’s adorable,” she answered admiringly. Too admiringly.
“I only hope someone else thinks so. His days with us are numbered.” But I might as well have saved my breath. By the time Dog X reached ten weeks, our kids were more attached to him than barnacles to a boat’s bottom. I tried to ignore him.
“Look at how good he is catching a ball, Dad,” Christopher pointed out. I grunted noncommittally. And when Andy’s folly performed his tricks - sit, fetch, roll over, play dead - and the kids touted his smarts, I hid behind a newspaper.
One thing I could not deny: he had the ears of a watchdog, detecting every sound that came from the driveway or yard. Heidi, his aging mother, heard nothing but his barking, which interrupted her frequent naps. He, on the other hand, was in perpetual motion. When the kids went off on their bikes or I put on my jogging shoes, he wanted to go along. If left behind, he chased squirrels. Occasionally, by now, I slipped and called him Scampy.
Then in the autumn, after six months of family nurture and adoration, Scampy suffered a setback. Squealing tires and brakes announced that he had chased one too many squirrels into the street. The accident fractured his left hind leg, which the vet put in a splint. We were all relieved to hear his prognosis: complete recovery. But then a week later the second shoe dropped.
“Gangrene,” Shirley told me one evening. “The vet says amputate or he’ll have to be put to sleep.” I slumped down in a chair.
“There’s little choice,” I said. “It’s not fair to make an active dog like Scampy struggle around on three legs the rest of his life.” Suddenly the kids, who had been eavesdropping, flew into the room.
“They don’t kill a person who has a bad leg," Steve and Laraine argued.
Buying time, I told them, “We’ll decide tomorrow.” After the kids were in bed, Shirley and I talked.
“It will be hard for them to give up Scampy,” she sympathized.
“Especially Christopher,” I replied. “I was about his age when I lost Queenie.” Then I told her about my favorite dog, a statuesque white spitz whose fluffy coat rolled like ocean waves when she ran. But Queenie developed a crippling problem with her back legs, and finally my dad said she would have to be put down.
“But she can get well, “ I pleaded. I prayed with all my might that God would help her walk again. But she got worse.
One night after dinner I went to the basement, where she slept beside the furnace. At the bottom of the stairs, I met Dad. His face was drained of color, and he carried a strange, strong-smelling rag in his hand.
“I’m sorry, but Queenie’s dead,” he told me gently. I broke into tears and threw myself into his arms. I don’t know how long I sobbed, but after a while I became aware he was crying too. I remember how pleased I was to learn he felt the same way.
Between eye wiping and nose blowing, I told him, “I don’t ever want another dog. It hurts too much when they die.”
“You’re right about the hurt, son,” he answered, “but that’s the price of love.”
The next day, after conferring with the vet and the family, I reluctantly agreed to have Scampy’s leg amputated. “If a child’s faith can make him well, “ I remarked to Shirley, “then he’ll recover four times over.” And he did. Miraculously.
If I needed any poof that he was his old self, it came a short time after his operation. Watching from the kitchen window, I saw a fat grey squirrel creep toward the bird feeder. Slowly the sunning dog pulled himself into attack position. When the squirrel got to within a dozen feet, Scampy launched himself. Using his hind leg like a pogo stick, he rocketed into the yard and gave one bushy tail the scare of its life.
Soon Scampy was back catching balls, tagging along with the kids, running with me as I jogged. The remarkable thing was the way he compensated for his missing appendage. He invented a new stroke for his lone rear leg, moving it piston-like from side to side to achieve both power and stability.
His enthusiasm and energy suffered no loss. “The best thing about Scampy,” a neighbor said, “ is that he doesn’t know he has a handicap. Either that or he ignores it, which is the best way for all of us to deal with such things.”
Not that everyone saw him in a positive light. On the playground, some youngsters reacted as if he were a prime candidate for a Stephen King horror flick. “Look out,” shouted one boy, “here comes Monster Dog!” Tripod and Hopalong were other tags. Our kids laughed off his detractors and introduced him as “Scampy, the greatest three-legged dog in the world.”
For better than five years, Scampy gave us an object lesson in courage, demonstrating what it means to do your best with what you’ve got. On our daily runs I often carried on conversations with him as if he understood every single word. “I almost shipped you out as a pup,” I’d recount to him, “but the kids wouldn’t let me. They knew how wonderful you were.” It was obvious from the way he studied my face and wagged his tail that he liked to hear how special he was.
He probably would have continued to strut his stuff for a lot longer had he been less combative. In scraps in which he was clearly overmatched, he lacked two essentials for longevity – discretion and, partly because of his surgery, an effective reverse gear.
One warm August night he didn’t return at his normal time, and the next morning he showed up, gasping for air and bloody around the neck. He obviously had been in a fight, and I suspected a badly punctured windpipe or lung.
“Scampy, when will you learn?” I asked as I patted his head. He looked at me with those trusting eyes and licked my hand, but he was too weak to wag his tail. Christopher and Daniel helped me sponge him down and get him to the vet, but my diagnosis proved too accurate. By midday, “the greatest three legged dog in the world” as gone.
That evening Christopher and I drove up to the vet’s office, gathered up the black plastic bag that held Scampy and headed home. Scampy’s mother had died at 15 a few months before; now we would bury him next to her in the woods by the garden.
As we drove, I tried to engage Christopher in conversation, but he was silent, apparently sorting through his feelings. “I’ve seen lots of dogs, Christopher,” I said, “but Scampy was something special.”
“Yep,” he answered, staring into the darkness.
“He was certainly one of the smartest.” Christopher didn’t answer. From flashes of light that passed through the car I could see him dabbing his eyes. Finally he looked at me and spoke.
“There’s only one thing I’m sure of, Dad,” he choked out through tears. “I don’t want another dog. It feels so bad to lose them.”
“Yes, I know,” I said. Then, drawing on a voice and words that were not my own, I added, “But that’s the price of love.”
Now his sobs were audible, and I was having trouble seeing the road myself. I pulled off at a service station and stopped the car. There, I put my arms around him and with my tears let him know – just as my father had shown me – that his loss was my loss too.
If Only Life Were A Game...
So its monday again. How quickly time flies. Its been a pretty eventful weekend, one that nearly threatened to end my life through a lack of sleep. Had a really packed friday night, where after ARPC (when John Ting delivered not a sermon, but a lecture on "Parenting"), I went to grab a drink with Simon, Charlotte & Jingliang - driving Jingliang's car (at Jln Kayu), then to the airport to pick up my aunt. By the time I reached home, it was 1:30am. By the time I finished with worship prep and packing my stuff for a badminton game the next morning, it was 4. Got woken up at 7:30 the next morning by someone who asked if he could borrow an iron. Ugh!! Then was the game, then lunch, then worship prac, then DM bible study, then KTV with the cell. First time I managed to crash inside a KTV, with all the music that's blaring. I mean, go try falling asleep in a pub man.
Next day was worship, which went really well. I was really amazed that the songs I chose in my semi-conscious state ended up being so apt in light of the content of the message. I guess it IS true that God works best in my moments of weaknesses. After that, had lunch with the cell, and then off to Zhang Mu Shi's house for our month Bible Study. Had dinner then, and had a really really good time catching up with Yenn Chuen, who's back again. Met Paul after that for a short drink, and went home. Caleb called to talk to me abt some ministry stuff, and we ended up talking till abt 3.
Hehz.
Sometimes, I really wonder how I'm still alive.
Today met up with Simon to DotA for a while, then had a really good chat with him abt ministry. He shared with me a lotta stuff that's happening btw him and Char, and the struggles he's facing in the relationship. So it turned out to be a really good afternoon.
After that, had dinner with Paul and went to night classes with him. New term, new lecturer. My Sociology lecturer was the probverbial woman from hell, man. She was awesome. I was a little late, and by the time I came to class, she was introducing the 18th century. And she started to tell us how it was the age of the Enlightenment, that gave birth to great artists such as Leonardo... DiCaprio. She even paused, thought about it, then affirmed what she just said. It took her another 5 seconds to take stock again what she just did, before she corrected herself.
Sigh.
How sad is that man? And barely 5 mins later, she misrepresented Marx when she tried to introduce his name to the class. Man...
Anyway, the weater's been glorious the past few days. I love the temperature. I'm still having my mood swings, and its not helped by my chronic lack of sleep, self-induced as they may be. Have a few pple to meet this week, and a few things to get done. Spoke to Di just now, and was raising the possibility of just working for KC on a more permanent basis. Perks include the ability to tag a nice job title to my resume and more flexi working hours. So lets see how that works out. I dun mind, actually.
Someone recently said I'm very very hard to fathom. It got me thinking - am I really that hard to know? I mean, I hide things very well, but by and large I'm a pretty obvious person... I wear my emotions on my sleeve all the time. Can't help it. Anyone who's just a little sharper would be able to see my initial reaction to anything, and notice that at best I recover from my initial reaction pretty fast, and cover up what I really feel abt anything.
When I'm really upset abt something, you won't hear me complaining abt it, or sharing it as a prayer request. So most of the time when I list a lotta things to people, asking that they pray for me abt it, it prob is a legitimate request, but not what's really on my mind. I have this little habit of always trying to correct people's sentences before they finish them. I behave differently towards different people, based on how I perceive they would expect me to behave. I tend to be very negative in my thoughts, and always differential towards others at the expense of myself. Mebbe that's cos of my low self-confidence. And I'm usually very good at deflecting questions before they're even asked, thus not requiring me to avoid them. Humour's my fav tool to keep a certain mood around me, either to cover myself, or to turn a situation around.
And that's pretty much me in a nutshell. Ain't all that difficult to understand or complicated, am I? At least, I always thought I was really a very simple person. Not much in the way of ambition, aspirations, or drive. Pretty much a passive and boring person.
Sigh. Well, at least for tonight, I'm very honest in saying how troubled I am by so many questions. About ministry, and what I need to lay down for the next three years. About my own spiritual walk and how I lately seem to be hovering on the edge of the wilderness again. Of my own personal life and wondering if I'll ever dare again to tell a girl how I feel about her. Of my studies, and if I'll be able to do well. Of my family, and the fact that everydaqy I have more and more reason to be pissed at my dad. Of my overall disciplines and how I need to develop myself in different aspects.
Or even of how I can't seem to stop worrying, and seeing my whole life, or even life itself in such bleak terms. I'm actually pretty tired, and have been tired for some time now already. In a game, you just press the re-start button and things will be fine. I guess you can't do that with life.
Next day was worship, which went really well. I was really amazed that the songs I chose in my semi-conscious state ended up being so apt in light of the content of the message. I guess it IS true that God works best in my moments of weaknesses. After that, had lunch with the cell, and then off to Zhang Mu Shi's house for our month Bible Study. Had dinner then, and had a really really good time catching up with Yenn Chuen, who's back again. Met Paul after that for a short drink, and went home. Caleb called to talk to me abt some ministry stuff, and we ended up talking till abt 3.
Hehz.
Sometimes, I really wonder how I'm still alive.
Today met up with Simon to DotA for a while, then had a really good chat with him abt ministry. He shared with me a lotta stuff that's happening btw him and Char, and the struggles he's facing in the relationship. So it turned out to be a really good afternoon.
After that, had dinner with Paul and went to night classes with him. New term, new lecturer. My Sociology lecturer was the probverbial woman from hell, man. She was awesome. I was a little late, and by the time I came to class, she was introducing the 18th century. And she started to tell us how it was the age of the Enlightenment, that gave birth to great artists such as Leonardo... DiCaprio. She even paused, thought about it, then affirmed what she just said. It took her another 5 seconds to take stock again what she just did, before she corrected herself.
Sigh.
How sad is that man? And barely 5 mins later, she misrepresented Marx when she tried to introduce his name to the class. Man...
Anyway, the weater's been glorious the past few days. I love the temperature. I'm still having my mood swings, and its not helped by my chronic lack of sleep, self-induced as they may be. Have a few pple to meet this week, and a few things to get done. Spoke to Di just now, and was raising the possibility of just working for KC on a more permanent basis. Perks include the ability to tag a nice job title to my resume and more flexi working hours. So lets see how that works out. I dun mind, actually.
Someone recently said I'm very very hard to fathom. It got me thinking - am I really that hard to know? I mean, I hide things very well, but by and large I'm a pretty obvious person... I wear my emotions on my sleeve all the time. Can't help it. Anyone who's just a little sharper would be able to see my initial reaction to anything, and notice that at best I recover from my initial reaction pretty fast, and cover up what I really feel abt anything.
When I'm really upset abt something, you won't hear me complaining abt it, or sharing it as a prayer request. So most of the time when I list a lotta things to people, asking that they pray for me abt it, it prob is a legitimate request, but not what's really on my mind. I have this little habit of always trying to correct people's sentences before they finish them. I behave differently towards different people, based on how I perceive they would expect me to behave. I tend to be very negative in my thoughts, and always differential towards others at the expense of myself. Mebbe that's cos of my low self-confidence. And I'm usually very good at deflecting questions before they're even asked, thus not requiring me to avoid them. Humour's my fav tool to keep a certain mood around me, either to cover myself, or to turn a situation around.
And that's pretty much me in a nutshell. Ain't all that difficult to understand or complicated, am I? At least, I always thought I was really a very simple person. Not much in the way of ambition, aspirations, or drive. Pretty much a passive and boring person.
Sigh. Well, at least for tonight, I'm very honest in saying how troubled I am by so many questions. About ministry, and what I need to lay down for the next three years. About my own spiritual walk and how I lately seem to be hovering on the edge of the wilderness again. Of my own personal life and wondering if I'll ever dare again to tell a girl how I feel about her. Of my studies, and if I'll be able to do well. Of my family, and the fact that everydaqy I have more and more reason to be pissed at my dad. Of my overall disciplines and how I need to develop myself in different aspects.
Or even of how I can't seem to stop worrying, and seeing my whole life, or even life itself in such bleak terms. I'm actually pretty tired, and have been tired for some time now already. In a game, you just press the re-start button and things will be fine. I guess you can't do that with life.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can come to any good.
- W.H. Auden
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
夜里梦多
不知道你曾否有过这种感觉，在你觉得你一整天过得很顺畅的时候 - 当你见了许多朋友，充分地利用了一天的时候 - 回到家时，却充满了一种非常低潮的感觉，觉得自己生活太单调和没有意思了。我今天去了朋友的一个俱乐部，做了运动，游了泳，跟他们有了一段相当有意义的分享时间。过后还去了查经小组。所以应该是过得很充分的一天。
但是我踏入家门之后，却又再次地有了一个很无奈的感觉，不知道我自己现在活着是为了什么。因为有时候活着为了一个看不见又经常听不见的上帝是很难的。而在我生命中，我也什么真正让我有激情要活下去的。这个星期内，就有三位朋友问了我同样一个问题了 - 他们问我为什么我会这么渴望爱情呢？难道爱情那么重要吗？
我想，我的回答就是在这个时候，对我来说是很明显了。当我回到家之后，发现我又再次是自己一个人了。朋友归朋友，但是我还是没有一个特别让我能够拥有的一个人，让我能够去疼她，去爱她，和依靠她。就在这个时候，自己才会感到，若有一个伴，那就会多好。一个让我能够看得见，听得见的理由，叫我要好好地活下去。勉励我，鼓励我，激发我每一天都要好好地去做人，好让她开心，以我为荣。
咳。我看，还是去睡觉吧。
但是我踏入家门之后，却又再次地有了一个很无奈的感觉，不知道我自己现在活着是为了什么。因为有时候活着为了一个看不见又经常听不见的上帝是很难的。而在我生命中，我也什么真正让我有激情要活下去的。这个星期内，就有三位朋友问了我同样一个问题了 - 他们问我为什么我会这么渴望爱情呢？难道爱情那么重要吗？
我想，我的回答就是在这个时候，对我来说是很明显了。当我回到家之后，发现我又再次是自己一个人了。朋友归朋友，但是我还是没有一个特别让我能够拥有的一个人，让我能够去疼她，去爱她，和依靠她。就在这个时候，自己才会感到，若有一个伴，那就会多好。一个让我能够看得见，听得见的理由，叫我要好好地活下去。勉励我，鼓励我，激发我每一天都要好好地去做人，好让她开心，以我为荣。
咳。我看，还是去睡觉吧。
Sunday, June 19, 2005
There And Back Again
So I'm finally back after a pretty hectic... erm... retreat.
Hehz...
Tanjong Puteri is exactly the same as it was 3 or 4 yrs ago, when I last went. Food... decorations, the whole looks of the place. But extraordinarily, nothing else was the same. My state of life, the ministry partners I went with, the focus and intent of being there, even the mood I brought to the camp.
I went with a pretty heavy heart this time round, with a lot of things on my heart. Lot of questions I was asking myself, struggles with what I wanted and what I thought would be a wise decision. Meeting up with so many people from my past in the last 2 weeks also raised a lot of thoughts about the person I was then, and who I have become today. What had gone wrong, and what had turned out right. Wondering abt what I would be like another 5 years down the road.
With my present having been so drastically unforeseen and unexpected from just 5 years ago, it seems so arrogantly presumptious and sheer arrogance that I hope to be able to plan for the next 10 to 20 years down the road. Why not start living for the now, I ask myself. Why not act upon the present, and not be bound by any projections I have about the rest of my life?
Worries about ministry had also been on my mind. I don't see how I would be able to offer the present commitment when school and work swings into full force. And of course, singlehood for the next three years remains an unbearable prospect (Rather like how 2.5 yrs in NS seemed like I was cursed to live in the final stages of cancer, yet never die.), and I shudder everytime I think of the solitude that I seem doomed to endure... made the more unpalatable in light of how the next three years are gonna be so very tough.
Sadly, the retreat only raised more questions, increased the struggles, and left me with a heavier heart than when I went... didn't get to spend time alone with God, and it turned out to be just as hectic a camp... only for the fact that I didn't have too many things to be in charge of. That proved to be the greatest factor for me in labelling my time there as "relaxing". Hehz...
Still, it was an enjoyable time nonetheless. Caught up with people, had a good time bowling and all, and more or less managed to have fun. My villa turned out to be a really good grouping, and many were sharing very openly. The service today turned out pretty well all in all, and the worship went pretty smoothly despite how we hardly practiced at all. Its hard to not see that God has really been there for me, and helped me through these few days, as difficult as they might have been.
Growing up is always a scary prospect. As Bernice shared, going into the unknown is always a rather scary prospect. Last night we took a boat out along a river to see fireflies. The boat was almost travelling blind along the river, and it was very very dark. So naturally, there was a fear of whether or not we were gonna hit anything or anyone. And when I'm venturing further and further out into the unknown, and unable to see beyond even my next half a year, my tendency is always to run and hide. To avoid having to face the difficult questions that begs to be asked about myself.
On the bigger front, I think it was really really amazing seeing the congregation in the second service turn out like this for a retreat. I mean, it was like back to fellowship again. And I get the feeling even Grace's or Ruth's fellowship didn't enjoy the same kind of unity and spirit of acceptance that we've had at this retreat. By and large, I mean. Cos on the whole, I hardly saw any very noticeable cliques. Everyone participated in different activities and engaged with different sets of people. Obviously there were no deep sharings, save for mebbe a handful. I think the retreat achieved the aim of tearing down a lot of walls of unfamiliarity between many of us whom we only see on sunday, and hardly ever go anywhere beyond a "hi' and "bye". Zhang Mu Shi and Pastor Lijuan interracting with us at that level was unheard of during my days in fellowship, where they were always just so out of reach. And I think its great that we seem to be getting it right so far in our search for a formula that is distinctly suited for ministering to our community.
Did I enjoy myself and have a good time at the retreat? Yes and no, I guess. A lot of good things came out of it, even thought I didn't do what I had primarily set out to do.
Before I start school the following week, I probably should go do my retreat some time this week.
Also, a lot of movies I wanna catch. Batman Begins, A Lot Like Love, War Of The Worlds, Narnia... man...
Of course, it might be a little tricky to watch them all, since I need to pay my phone bills, which would leave me flat broke. Hehz... Hope I get a job really really soon...
Hehz...
Tanjong Puteri is exactly the same as it was 3 or 4 yrs ago, when I last went. Food... decorations, the whole looks of the place. But extraordinarily, nothing else was the same. My state of life, the ministry partners I went with, the focus and intent of being there, even the mood I brought to the camp.
I went with a pretty heavy heart this time round, with a lot of things on my heart. Lot of questions I was asking myself, struggles with what I wanted and what I thought would be a wise decision. Meeting up with so many people from my past in the last 2 weeks also raised a lot of thoughts about the person I was then, and who I have become today. What had gone wrong, and what had turned out right. Wondering abt what I would be like another 5 years down the road.
With my present having been so drastically unforeseen and unexpected from just 5 years ago, it seems so arrogantly presumptious and sheer arrogance that I hope to be able to plan for the next 10 to 20 years down the road. Why not start living for the now, I ask myself. Why not act upon the present, and not be bound by any projections I have about the rest of my life?
Worries about ministry had also been on my mind. I don't see how I would be able to offer the present commitment when school and work swings into full force. And of course, singlehood for the next three years remains an unbearable prospect (Rather like how 2.5 yrs in NS seemed like I was cursed to live in the final stages of cancer, yet never die.), and I shudder everytime I think of the solitude that I seem doomed to endure... made the more unpalatable in light of how the next three years are gonna be so very tough.
Sadly, the retreat only raised more questions, increased the struggles, and left me with a heavier heart than when I went... didn't get to spend time alone with God, and it turned out to be just as hectic a camp... only for the fact that I didn't have too many things to be in charge of. That proved to be the greatest factor for me in labelling my time there as "relaxing". Hehz...
Still, it was an enjoyable time nonetheless. Caught up with people, had a good time bowling and all, and more or less managed to have fun. My villa turned out to be a really good grouping, and many were sharing very openly. The service today turned out pretty well all in all, and the worship went pretty smoothly despite how we hardly practiced at all. Its hard to not see that God has really been there for me, and helped me through these few days, as difficult as they might have been.
Growing up is always a scary prospect. As Bernice shared, going into the unknown is always a rather scary prospect. Last night we took a boat out along a river to see fireflies. The boat was almost travelling blind along the river, and it was very very dark. So naturally, there was a fear of whether or not we were gonna hit anything or anyone. And when I'm venturing further and further out into the unknown, and unable to see beyond even my next half a year, my tendency is always to run and hide. To avoid having to face the difficult questions that begs to be asked about myself.
On the bigger front, I think it was really really amazing seeing the congregation in the second service turn out like this for a retreat. I mean, it was like back to fellowship again. And I get the feeling even Grace's or Ruth's fellowship didn't enjoy the same kind of unity and spirit of acceptance that we've had at this retreat. By and large, I mean. Cos on the whole, I hardly saw any very noticeable cliques. Everyone participated in different activities and engaged with different sets of people. Obviously there were no deep sharings, save for mebbe a handful. I think the retreat achieved the aim of tearing down a lot of walls of unfamiliarity between many of us whom we only see on sunday, and hardly ever go anywhere beyond a "hi' and "bye". Zhang Mu Shi and Pastor Lijuan interracting with us at that level was unheard of during my days in fellowship, where they were always just so out of reach. And I think its great that we seem to be getting it right so far in our search for a formula that is distinctly suited for ministering to our community.
Did I enjoy myself and have a good time at the retreat? Yes and no, I guess. A lot of good things came out of it, even thought I didn't do what I had primarily set out to do.
Before I start school the following week, I probably should go do my retreat some time this week.
Also, a lot of movies I wanna catch. Batman Begins, A Lot Like Love, War Of The Worlds, Narnia... man...
Of course, it might be a little tricky to watch them all, since I need to pay my phone bills, which would leave me flat broke. Hehz... Hope I get a job really really soon...
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Going Off Soon
Had lunch with my family at abt eleven, then popped down to Raffles Place to meet Weimin for a drink, and catch up a little with her. I realised its really been quite a while since we even sat down to chat, and I'm pretty out-dated on her life. Hehz... Guess we've both been pretty busy with our own lives. She's also had a lot happen to her lately, so I didn't wanna bug her to meet up with me. Figured there'll be a time eventually.
Amazingly enough, I bumped into Adelina at Raffles Place. I'd been meaning to call her and ask her out for the better part of the year already, but always procrastinated. Fancy bumping into her at Raffles Place now, of all the places. Seems like she's left the theatre scene, and is now in the corporate world. I guess eventually we all have to put down our dreams and hobbies, and grow up to the realities of the real world.
Went to Seletar Country Club with Jingliang and Simon (yes, he's finally finally back... picked him up from the airport last night). We worked out in the gym, had a couple of rounds of bowling, played pool and table-tennis. Then I met up with Paul for dinner and a round of DotA. Finally, caught Star Wars with Serene at night, who still hadn't caught it yet. What surprised me was the fact that Simon hadn't caught it too. Mebbe he just was never into the Star Wars thing. But catching it the second time was good... realised that there were a lotta details that I over-looked the first time round. It especially helped since I re-watched episodes 4,5 and 6 after my first time of watching episode 3.
So there it goes... a long long day of doing everything except some productive work. I tell myself this will stop once school re-opens again. When my actual syllabus begins, I'll have to pay more attention, and play less. When I met Gerald on tue, it really really hit me that we're all not young anymore. So on top of the fact that I'll prob have to step up my quest for a soul-mate, and decide when I should get attached again, there's the more pertinent question to be asked of myself - When do I intend to grow up and start taking a greater responsibility for my own life. Sigh. Mebbe once I do, I'll be able to convince a girl that she can trust me to take care of her...
In the meantime, I'm just SO looking forward to fri... and off to Tanjong Puteri. Hehz...
Haven't packed tho. Hope I remember to bring just about everything...
And by the way, Merv... I really can't help you with the song thing. I had to adopt a brat to help me sort out my blog, and do these things like add a song into the template... I guess I could try to dig up some of the instructions she tried to send me, and see if it makes an ounce of sense to you.
Grins.
Okie, its three in the morning, and my brain just isn't functioning anymore.
Heck, it hasn't functioned in just about 7 years already... Muahahahahaha...
Amazingly enough, I bumped into Adelina at Raffles Place. I'd been meaning to call her and ask her out for the better part of the year already, but always procrastinated. Fancy bumping into her at Raffles Place now, of all the places. Seems like she's left the theatre scene, and is now in the corporate world. I guess eventually we all have to put down our dreams and hobbies, and grow up to the realities of the real world.
Went to Seletar Country Club with Jingliang and Simon (yes, he's finally finally back... picked him up from the airport last night). We worked out in the gym, had a couple of rounds of bowling, played pool and table-tennis. Then I met up with Paul for dinner and a round of DotA. Finally, caught Star Wars with Serene at night, who still hadn't caught it yet. What surprised me was the fact that Simon hadn't caught it too. Mebbe he just was never into the Star Wars thing. But catching it the second time was good... realised that there were a lotta details that I over-looked the first time round. It especially helped since I re-watched episodes 4,5 and 6 after my first time of watching episode 3.
So there it goes... a long long day of doing everything except some productive work. I tell myself this will stop once school re-opens again. When my actual syllabus begins, I'll have to pay more attention, and play less. When I met Gerald on tue, it really really hit me that we're all not young anymore. So on top of the fact that I'll prob have to step up my quest for a soul-mate, and decide when I should get attached again, there's the more pertinent question to be asked of myself - When do I intend to grow up and start taking a greater responsibility for my own life. Sigh. Mebbe once I do, I'll be able to convince a girl that she can trust me to take care of her...
In the meantime, I'm just SO looking forward to fri... and off to Tanjong Puteri. Hehz...
Haven't packed tho. Hope I remember to bring just about everything...
And by the way, Merv... I really can't help you with the song thing. I had to adopt a brat to help me sort out my blog, and do these things like add a song into the template... I guess I could try to dig up some of the instructions she tried to send me, and see if it makes an ounce of sense to you.
Grins.
Okie, its three in the morning, and my brain just isn't functioning anymore.
Heck, it hasn't functioned in just about 7 years already... Muahahahahaha...
Monday, June 13, 2005
I'm Like A Bird, I Can Fly Away...
Its been a pretty packed weekend. I'm actually more or less all zonked out now... and I have a pretty fun week to look forward to as well, so I guess I dun have anything abt myself to complain for now...
Saturday was a pretty light day. Went down to Henry's CF class since my own was cancelled. Had a pretty good time just sitting down with Elim, William, Gabriel... etc. Was nice to see also how Henry led his class... and feel a little ashamed at how little preparations I seem to put into my own. Hehz...
After that, was the PCk Musical. Honestly, it was nothing impressive. A tad of pride at the idea that this is a local production, (and full of the local flavour it had indeed...) and the fact that tho they weren't magnificent in any way at least they didn't screw up or suck... and more or less it was a pretty fun evening. I enjoyed myself!! Would have felt cheated if I was forced to cough up the 100 bucks to catch it, but since it was all FOC... Hehz...
Today was an absolute nightmare... We have abt 14 people altogether who are either getting baptized or confirmed, so there was supposed to be a live telecast of the main sanctuary where all the action was taking place. But only when it was about to start did we realise that NONE of the AVA people were around, so there was no setup of the system!! No live telecast!!! By the time we managed to rectify the situation (which involved me running up and down the church to look for the caretaker, an AVA member of the main sanctuary, and also Jackie who holds my key to the cupboard...), the baptism was over oredi. Only the confirmation and infant baptism left... Such a bummer...
Then I realised that of all days, Eng Kiat chose to come down today with Angelina. My cousin, who received Christ without my knowing. Well, he seemed to not have minded the chaos as much, so at least for that I could be thankful. Am really glad to see him come down to church, esp since he's doing this only to persuade Angelina to start attending church again...
Then at the Ai Yan, I realised that Yuanming is back again!!!! Was really really glad to have a chance to catch up with him once again. Never really did manage to have a good chat with him since I broke up with Grace, and always thought it was a pity. We used to have our time of sharing, and I did enjoy his company. So after more than 2 yrs, I was glad that we could do some catching up. He even attended cell group!
Which brings us to my next trauma of the day... we had someone visiting from Guangzhou who attended our cell today, who doesn't understand a word of english. So Weiqi had to lead the session in chinese!!! Absolute diasaster man... Its always very very wierd when you have to translate and lead an english material in chinese... and the fact that it was Weiqi doing it only made it all the more harder... hehz... she was trying so hard to do a verbatim translation, and it all came out so wrong...
Sigh.
We had our customary jogging session at Serene's place after that, and Gabriel joined us!!! Hee hee... He's always been a really really great encouragement to me, with his honesty in relating, and his earnestness in everything he does. So am pretty glad that he's now slowly entering into the "clique", and getting to spend more time with us. Hehz...
We stayed back to watch "Iron Ladies", a really really disgusting show abt Thai transvestites who won the National Tournament in volleyball. Its apparently based on a true story. Serene was saying how so many of these people claim that its built into their genes and they can't help it... and I couldn' help thinking abt how many men guilty of infidelity also claim that its all in their blood... and how they can't help it. Funny how little wives seem to be able to buy into that story, but when some women wanna be lesbians, they all stand by these claims.
Sigh.
We all seem to be so good at deceiving ourselves sometimes. I think of two quotes that Ravi Zacharias usually gives... how "We have educated ourselves into imbecility", and how "there is now nothing so vulgar left in human existence, that we cannot fly in some professor from somewhere to justify it."
This upcoming week I'll be meeting Gerald, another long lost friend who suddenly popped back into my life. Also Simon's finally coming home after half a yr in the States... Fri I'll be off to Tanjong Puteri with the church oredi. Whoo hoo!!!!!
Saturday was a pretty light day. Went down to Henry's CF class since my own was cancelled. Had a pretty good time just sitting down with Elim, William, Gabriel... etc. Was nice to see also how Henry led his class... and feel a little ashamed at how little preparations I seem to put into my own. Hehz...
After that, was the PCk Musical. Honestly, it was nothing impressive. A tad of pride at the idea that this is a local production, (and full of the local flavour it had indeed...) and the fact that tho they weren't magnificent in any way at least they didn't screw up or suck... and more or less it was a pretty fun evening. I enjoyed myself!! Would have felt cheated if I was forced to cough up the 100 bucks to catch it, but since it was all FOC... Hehz...
Today was an absolute nightmare... We have abt 14 people altogether who are either getting baptized or confirmed, so there was supposed to be a live telecast of the main sanctuary where all the action was taking place. But only when it was about to start did we realise that NONE of the AVA people were around, so there was no setup of the system!! No live telecast!!! By the time we managed to rectify the situation (which involved me running up and down the church to look for the caretaker, an AVA member of the main sanctuary, and also Jackie who holds my key to the cupboard...), the baptism was over oredi. Only the confirmation and infant baptism left... Such a bummer...
Then I realised that of all days, Eng Kiat chose to come down today with Angelina. My cousin, who received Christ without my knowing. Well, he seemed to not have minded the chaos as much, so at least for that I could be thankful. Am really glad to see him come down to church, esp since he's doing this only to persuade Angelina to start attending church again...
Then at the Ai Yan, I realised that Yuanming is back again!!!! Was really really glad to have a chance to catch up with him once again. Never really did manage to have a good chat with him since I broke up with Grace, and always thought it was a pity. We used to have our time of sharing, and I did enjoy his company. So after more than 2 yrs, I was glad that we could do some catching up. He even attended cell group!
Which brings us to my next trauma of the day... we had someone visiting from Guangzhou who attended our cell today, who doesn't understand a word of english. So Weiqi had to lead the session in chinese!!! Absolute diasaster man... Its always very very wierd when you have to translate and lead an english material in chinese... and the fact that it was Weiqi doing it only made it all the more harder... hehz... she was trying so hard to do a verbatim translation, and it all came out so wrong...
Sigh.
We had our customary jogging session at Serene's place after that, and Gabriel joined us!!! Hee hee... He's always been a really really great encouragement to me, with his honesty in relating, and his earnestness in everything he does. So am pretty glad that he's now slowly entering into the "clique", and getting to spend more time with us. Hehz...
We stayed back to watch "Iron Ladies", a really really disgusting show abt Thai transvestites who won the National Tournament in volleyball. Its apparently based on a true story. Serene was saying how so many of these people claim that its built into their genes and they can't help it... and I couldn' help thinking abt how many men guilty of infidelity also claim that its all in their blood... and how they can't help it. Funny how little wives seem to be able to buy into that story, but when some women wanna be lesbians, they all stand by these claims.
Sigh.
We all seem to be so good at deceiving ourselves sometimes. I think of two quotes that Ravi Zacharias usually gives... how "We have educated ourselves into imbecility", and how "there is now nothing so vulgar left in human existence, that we cannot fly in some professor from somewhere to justify it."
This upcoming week I'll be meeting Gerald, another long lost friend who suddenly popped back into my life. Also Simon's finally coming home after half a yr in the States... Fri I'll be off to Tanjong Puteri with the church oredi. Whoo hoo!!!!!
Friday, June 10, 2005
WHat's In A Life?
So I'm finally up and about, after more than a week of being bed-ridden. Its good to finally be up and about again...
The last 2 days have been nothing short of sheer irony, as I helped out KC with another of his projects. I was told it simply involved setting up of PCs, and had no clue till I reached the place, that I was gonna be helping set up PCs for a LAN shop. Grins. Still, things were being held up all the time due to one reason or another, and I think in the end I really did very very little. Was pretty interesting tho, seeing how it worked out.
I think I've more or less resigned myself to one fact - I'm really a very boring person. From my taste in songs, to the type of games I play, to the fact that I tend to repeat twenty times the things I say, that I tend to repeat what I say, repeat what I say, I guess I can only conclude that I'm pretty boring.
Sigh.... mebbe that explains why I'm always so bored.
Also why I'm looking forward so much to PCK tmr. One of the few highlights in my life right now. Dammit. You know, if I actually was born rich, filthy rich, I'd be out asking someone out already. As it stands, I dun have the guts nor the cash to ask any girl out, so I'm resigned to looking forward to things like PCK, to fill my life with meaning.
Hehz....
Cancelling my CF tmr cos almost all my girls can't make it, so there's no point in having the session. Kindda glad for the break, cos I haven't really had time to prepare for it much.
Went to this place called "Coq N Bull" for dinner, cos its my mom's birthday. I guess the best part of the whole meal was the bread. Fabtastic walnut bread man. But aside from that, I had a really terrible rack of lamb, tho my parents had some pretty good beef.
Sigh.
Even my dinner conspired to expose my sad life for what it is.
I'm really really bored.
Bored.
Bored.
I'm boring.
Boring.
Bored.
Bored of being boring.
Hehehehe...
Man, how much more sad can I get?
The last 2 days have been nothing short of sheer irony, as I helped out KC with another of his projects. I was told it simply involved setting up of PCs, and had no clue till I reached the place, that I was gonna be helping set up PCs for a LAN shop. Grins. Still, things were being held up all the time due to one reason or another, and I think in the end I really did very very little. Was pretty interesting tho, seeing how it worked out.
I think I've more or less resigned myself to one fact - I'm really a very boring person. From my taste in songs, to the type of games I play, to the fact that I tend to repeat twenty times the things I say, that I tend to repeat what I say, repeat what I say, I guess I can only conclude that I'm pretty boring.
Sigh.... mebbe that explains why I'm always so bored.
Also why I'm looking forward so much to PCK tmr. One of the few highlights in my life right now. Dammit. You know, if I actually was born rich, filthy rich, I'd be out asking someone out already. As it stands, I dun have the guts nor the cash to ask any girl out, so I'm resigned to looking forward to things like PCK, to fill my life with meaning.
Hehz....
Cancelling my CF tmr cos almost all my girls can't make it, so there's no point in having the session. Kindda glad for the break, cos I haven't really had time to prepare for it much.
Went to this place called "Coq N Bull" for dinner, cos its my mom's birthday. I guess the best part of the whole meal was the bread. Fabtastic walnut bread man. But aside from that, I had a really terrible rack of lamb, tho my parents had some pretty good beef.
Sigh.
Even my dinner conspired to expose my sad life for what it is.
I'm really really bored.
Bored.
Bored.
I'm boring.
Boring.
Bored.
Bored of being boring.
Hehehehe...
Man, how much more sad can I get?
Monday, June 06, 2005
Feverish Nonsense...
So here I have been, the past week almost, the sick invalid that I am, unable to do much, eat much, or even talk much. Yeah, heaven is suddenly awash with thanksgiving prayers from Singapore. Heaven's also been innundated with the persistent prayers of a guy with a racking cough and wheezing breath, just whining that God heal him from this terrible viral infection.
Hehz.
Anyway, have spent a little while now, every now and then thinking back to the chapter where Jacob wrestles with God. Was always very fascinated by the notion as a kid. How in the world do you fight with God? And pin Him down till He has to ask you to let go, no less... What's that about man? Aside from the metaphorical lesson in store, I was wondering about wrestling with God myself.
If I couldn't have the things that I want, and if I also can't stop wanting them, why can't I at least pray the prayer of Job, asking to meet with God, that I might speak with Him. To wrestle with Him, and to come to a very very tangible conclusion of my struggles. Enough of the never-ending sagas of conquering my desires, only to have them surface all over again two weeks later.
Yet is it really possible to really wrestle with the Almighty? What happens? I threaten to do something silly to myself until He grants me a wish, or a vision where He speaks clearly to me... then it becomes a tussle of the will, to see who caves in first? That's just silly. But I've tried. And failed. Sheer foolishness to think you can out-will God Himself.
So what's next? Keep praying? I've tried that too. Nag at Him till He relents. God's known to relent, you know? But guess what, that doesn't work too. Who is more patient than God? How do you out-wait the infinite?
So what comes after that? The silent treatment. Stop praying. Sulk at God. Harbour bitter thoughts against Him. Like a child throwing a tantrum at his parents, or a lover throwing a tantrum, hoping that the other party would relent and give in. After all, if they really love us, they ought to be unable to withstand the cold treatment, and give in, right? Of course then, failure to give in only indicates that He doesn't really love me. Hehz... guess what, I've tried that too, but it also doesn't work. All I do is end up again being just a backslidden Christian, who after a while realizes that if God ever turns around, that's when He's really facing His back to me, for I've been the one who turned away, and so it is I who needs to turn around.
Just how does a man wrestle with God? Fight Him?
Its not like I'm asking for a hundred million bucks (tho I have tried praying for that before), or the cutest girl in the class (again, something I also have tried asking for before...), but I'm asking for some really normal things, or at least... good things... sensible things... things that make for good biblical advice on what to ask God for... so why is it still so hard to see things God's way? Why still so hard to understand why God continues to withhold His hand?
I used to wonder... If reality itself were a construct of God, why not a construct where life is so much easier? Where we dun have to go through so much pain just to learn so little about life. Where we don't have to lose everything in order to gain Christ. Where prayer is something a lot more tangible... like an email where you could ask that a reply be sent back when read. Wouldn't that be cool? So why the mystery of the intangible faith? Why the neccessity for the cruelty of the cross in order to save us? Couldn't He have died without the forty lashes minus one?
Lots of things have been happening to frens around me lately. Breakups, crushes, getting back togethers, marriages... Just to name the more common stuff that happens. Some just aren't convenient to pen down. The Bible wasn't kidding. Life is hard, And complicated. And unfair. Some get the lucky breaks, others only have eternity to look forward to.
Darn. I need to get out more. I mean, I like Marvin... but I just dun wanna end up like him. Well, I know I'll never have a brain like his... just hope I dun end up with his bad stuff without the good...
Hehz.
Anyway, have spent a little while now, every now and then thinking back to the chapter where Jacob wrestles with God. Was always very fascinated by the notion as a kid. How in the world do you fight with God? And pin Him down till He has to ask you to let go, no less... What's that about man? Aside from the metaphorical lesson in store, I was wondering about wrestling with God myself.
If I couldn't have the things that I want, and if I also can't stop wanting them, why can't I at least pray the prayer of Job, asking to meet with God, that I might speak with Him. To wrestle with Him, and to come to a very very tangible conclusion of my struggles. Enough of the never-ending sagas of conquering my desires, only to have them surface all over again two weeks later.
Yet is it really possible to really wrestle with the Almighty? What happens? I threaten to do something silly to myself until He grants me a wish, or a vision where He speaks clearly to me... then it becomes a tussle of the will, to see who caves in first? That's just silly. But I've tried. And failed. Sheer foolishness to think you can out-will God Himself.
So what's next? Keep praying? I've tried that too. Nag at Him till He relents. God's known to relent, you know? But guess what, that doesn't work too. Who is more patient than God? How do you out-wait the infinite?
So what comes after that? The silent treatment. Stop praying. Sulk at God. Harbour bitter thoughts against Him. Like a child throwing a tantrum at his parents, or a lover throwing a tantrum, hoping that the other party would relent and give in. After all, if they really love us, they ought to be unable to withstand the cold treatment, and give in, right? Of course then, failure to give in only indicates that He doesn't really love me. Hehz... guess what, I've tried that too, but it also doesn't work. All I do is end up again being just a backslidden Christian, who after a while realizes that if God ever turns around, that's when He's really facing His back to me, for I've been the one who turned away, and so it is I who needs to turn around.
Just how does a man wrestle with God? Fight Him?
Its not like I'm asking for a hundred million bucks (tho I have tried praying for that before), or the cutest girl in the class (again, something I also have tried asking for before...), but I'm asking for some really normal things, or at least... good things... sensible things... things that make for good biblical advice on what to ask God for... so why is it still so hard to see things God's way? Why still so hard to understand why God continues to withhold His hand?
I used to wonder... If reality itself were a construct of God, why not a construct where life is so much easier? Where we dun have to go through so much pain just to learn so little about life. Where we don't have to lose everything in order to gain Christ. Where prayer is something a lot more tangible... like an email where you could ask that a reply be sent back when read. Wouldn't that be cool? So why the mystery of the intangible faith? Why the neccessity for the cruelty of the cross in order to save us? Couldn't He have died without the forty lashes minus one?
Lots of things have been happening to frens around me lately. Breakups, crushes, getting back togethers, marriages... Just to name the more common stuff that happens. Some just aren't convenient to pen down. The Bible wasn't kidding. Life is hard, And complicated. And unfair. Some get the lucky breaks, others only have eternity to look forward to.
Darn. I need to get out more. I mean, I like Marvin... but I just dun wanna end up like him. Well, I know I'll never have a brain like his... just hope I dun end up with his bad stuff without the good...
Saturday, June 04, 2005
It Is Well With My Soul... Well, Almost...
Ah well. If only they had a song "It Is Well With My Health". Then I could queue it to be played the day I'm recovered from this horrendous viral fever that seems to plague me once a year. Yes, since tue night its been 39-40 degrees, relentlessly. Only this morning it seemed to have gone down, and I joyfully bounded out of the house, breathing in the fresh air of the outside... only to slink back home by 5 something, dizzy and nauseaus, and my fever back up to 39.4 degrees.
Sheesh.
Its been an absolute hell, locked up at home the past 2 days. Actually, no one locked me up. Was just too weak to get up. Sigh.
Did I also mention flu, throat infection, headache and stomachache? As well as bodyache? *Moan*
Tho in the short space that I was out, I managed to meet Serene for lunch, and then Paul for a movie... we caught Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. Fantastic show... not really. Most say the book's better. Tho... I would have thought that to be expected. All in all, it was pretty hilarious. I LOVED Marvin the robot... saw a cut-out of him outside the cinema, and was really really tempted to bring it home. Hehz...
But you know, for all its satire, I found it pretty amusing that they still copped out. Can't speak for the book, but at least in the show it still boiled down to the Boy-Meets-Girl scenario... and the all important question that the universe seeks is in the end still "Is She The One?".
Sigh. Well, for a romantic like me, that was really sweet. Darn it. Another one liner I can't use on my future dates. I really need to get a girl who doesn't watch movies at all man. Wuahahahahaha... Wait a minute... I had one just like that.
Grins.
Blame the fried brain. Why else am I still sprouting trash at 1am here?
Sigh.
Can't wait for PCK next saturday... Still thinking of them yellow boots...
Grins.
Sheesh.
Its been an absolute hell, locked up at home the past 2 days. Actually, no one locked me up. Was just too weak to get up. Sigh.
Did I also mention flu, throat infection, headache and stomachache? As well as bodyache? *Moan*
Tho in the short space that I was out, I managed to meet Serene for lunch, and then Paul for a movie... we caught Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. Fantastic show... not really. Most say the book's better. Tho... I would have thought that to be expected. All in all, it was pretty hilarious. I LOVED Marvin the robot... saw a cut-out of him outside the cinema, and was really really tempted to bring it home. Hehz...
But you know, for all its satire, I found it pretty amusing that they still copped out. Can't speak for the book, but at least in the show it still boiled down to the Boy-Meets-Girl scenario... and the all important question that the universe seeks is in the end still "Is She The One?".
Sigh. Well, for a romantic like me, that was really sweet. Darn it. Another one liner I can't use on my future dates. I really need to get a girl who doesn't watch movies at all man. Wuahahahahaha... Wait a minute... I had one just like that.
Grins.
Blame the fried brain. Why else am I still sprouting trash at 1am here?
Sigh.
Can't wait for PCK next saturday... Still thinking of them yellow boots...
Grins.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
WHO THE FUCK READS BLOGS?????
Just realised the number of views on my page. Absolutely bewildered by who out there still gets redirected to blogs. Surely no advertisers...
-
Hehz... Its finally coming out... the Palm Treo 755. For those of you who agonising what to buy me for my birthday that's past, or Chris... -
Here I am, with a pretty important interview coming up tmr morning, yet I can't sleep. As a matter of fact, my agent called to tell me t...
-
Christmas is round the corner. The lights in Orchard Road are up. X"mas songs are playing all over department stores, and the X'mas...