"The time has come," the Walrus said,

love letter to you

2012-01-29T21:11:00.004+08:00

Father dear, writing to You in a space that has become special over the years and i want to put this down, just for the record. i want to give You my special days (though, i only have one to call my own); i want to give You my every day.

i am thankful for You; You love me with a love that keeps me in wonder. this is how we know what love is- while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

⁷ For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—⁸ but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

(Romans 5)

You love me and make me new. i know i have a long way to go and there's so much more You have to work in and through me, to make me more like You and Yours, but for what has been wrought, i am thankful. i have always been thankful for the change You've made since year one. actually i sit here and really all i want to say is, i love You.

i love You because You loved me first. thank You, for loving me, and being patient with me. thank You for Your love that is tender and gentle; shy, yancey called it. a shy love that hides more than it reveals; restrains itself more than shoots through. it is mysterious and oftentimes i don't understand at all but-thank You for the lessons You teach me; mm and not just the lesson, but the journey too. i have learnt that Your ways are higher than mine, and infinitely good. thank You that i care at all.

i love You because in You there is hope. hope that makes even the ugliness around and within hopeful for redemption. the world may shout and shake its fist at You, demanding answers, and unhappily we Your Church has been wanting in truth and love. i reckon we'll have to answer for that during the great someday. but on Your part, sometimes the answers You give are not ones we are able to understand, and sometimes You do not care for answers at all. Be still and know that I am God, if we can't get this we won't get anything at all.

Father, i desire to be real. not shallow and flimsy but stedfast and true. i know there's still so very much more to go but for what's it worth, i do want You to be pleased with me. there's ugliness, no denying that but the whole point (and that's what makes it so precious) is, in You there is hope that the ugliness will transform- into something beautiful.

i want to spend the coming year with You; want to spend it knowing Your love, and loving You better. two weeks ago someone told me that to love You was to obey You- Lord, give the grace i will surely need. my heart is somewhat uneasy, fearful that i am too weak for You but Father, casting my mind back to remember, or else seeing the lives of those who love You more than i do, how may i say You are not worth everything i could ever offer?

So let me say, here and now, You are my first love and i am Yours. You bought me at a price incomparable and nothing else comes close. You love me most and You love me best. You know me- and yet You love me. Help me, Lord, to remember. and in remembering i will do, i will put my body where my soul is and my heart will follow, even in the dry seasons.

and in the dry seasons, still keep me, Lord. keep me for Your own name's sake and because You can. i can't. we both know that unfortunately well. i still don't understand why You won't just keep me from the ugly self but i know enough of You to know that You have Your ways and i will understand when i am through- or true. anyway, i have You! and Your love. maybe it's not a perfect me You want (as i understand perfection) but a me that loves You. and trusts You. and maybe You really do love me, flawed and messed up though i am, as i am. because i am Yours.

and one day, all things will be made new. and i will be perfect because- i will love You perfectly. and all that matters to me now, from hope of redemption to the little secret desires, will pass through the test of fire, and we'll see what stands. but no matter what, that day will be glorious, glorious, glorious, because creation will be whole once more. all that we've ever felt amiss, wrong, and unjust will be fulfilled, made right, and justified. forever.

and so- in the meantime, between that great someday and now, let me live each day working towards that reality. may i be disciplined in my every day; may my body live out what my soul believes, and my heart will follow, even in the dry seasons. help me to remember, Lord, and in remembering i will do.

i love You, Father.

You've made my heart to long for You

You set my mind on things above

You made my soul find rest in You

You are my song, You are my strength

2012-01-13T21:10:00.003+08:00

i opened my inbox, intending to reply to a letter; it turned into a conversation instead. it's okay, that worked too. in whichever way it did, that is. but things go the way they do, or you could do a garfield and ask me not to tell life you're hiding behind the couch. i won't tell.

i want to watch the lord of the rings, the whole thing at one sitting. i want to take a boat ride out into the ocean. i want some retail therapy, some nightlight watching, some riverside sitting.

want some macha, some friends to be alright again.

oh! prawn fishing.

watch the waves lap against the boardwalk, black blanket of a night sky above.

night lights bright in the distance; do bobbing buoys glow as they float on water?

and hi, are you coming yet, if ever, at all, etc. i'm aware of the wait (unfortunately)

if you came now, i apologise in advance- the door's closed.

daddy closed the door because the man is smoking

am, at the moment, more than usually skeptical of adverts that promise fulfillment of potential, or dreams. or fulfillment of anything.

oh, hoo-rayyy

2011-12-31T14:12:00.003+08:00

last post of the year!

i'm glad 2011 is over, and a whole new year is coming.

currently though, it's a little hard to feel nostalgic or reflective because i'm beside mommy, who's asking me about computers (her theme of the year, probably). but it's alright.

i did a personality test this morning, 243 pages. it was fairly interesting; i'd like to know my results, but i doubt that'll ever happen.

jars of clay playing on grooveshark; little details capturing the last day of year.

i take out a piece of belgian praline (wiki says praline and belgian praline are different) virginie brought as a present when she flew down recently and cut it in half; half is for me, half for daddy who likes chocolate too.

i'll be meeting john in a bit, we're wanting to get tea before yf. more little things; i like little things.

i am sooo glad 2011 is over. yayyyy. happy new year all! *beams.

2011-12-26T16:10:00.003+08:00

taking a break from replying christmas cards.

the days leading up to christmas was somewhat difficult; i was aware of it, but not why, at least not till i was talking with my brother and zac on christmas day itself over lunch, and realised it was probably because we'd spent so many years out of the country during christmas that when we were here this year, we were kind of lost. we were used to scooting off to the airport on the xth of december, and making our epic way up to chiang mai via public buses and third class sixteen hour train rides, and then spending the days prior to christmas assembling sweets and goodies for children, and rehearsing for the christmas skit, agreeing to be mary, or joseph, a roman soldier or even a mad woman. like, seriously. no role non-negotiable.

and so with such memories and tradition, being here for the christmas season had me feeling like a fish out of water, and distinctly unchristmassey. i even forgot to prepare for christmas the way i used to before. and i thought this year christmas would be a kind of forced happiness. but-

on christmas day, standing in the middle of fellowship hall (what a lovely name) after service, with various people coming up and hearing my name called to be given cards and baked goodies, i found it. i found the meaning for christmas at home: it's in being surrounded and loved by the ones i love.

and so now, i'll write back to those i was loved by... after i come back from caroling. haha. <3 merry christmas everyone, for real now.

hey folks

2011-12-24T21:32:00.001+08:00

Merry Christmas (:

2011-12-22T02:07:00.002+08:00

1) i hate sleepless nights. if hate isn't acceptable, then i thoroughly, thoroughly dislike sleepless nights. with all i have.

2) sleepless nights are difficult to get through in more ways than one.

3) just stoning, waiting for me to get past myself.

2011-12-19T21:16:00.002+08:00

i'm going to indulge gloriously and get ready for bed soon. i'm back from two weeks of fellowshipping and sinking into wonderful company, yf camps always tastes of heaven and late bedtime talks at mary-ruth's lovely, cosy home. i'm thankful for the past half-month and the fact that there's still a week to christmas.

keep the yuletide spirit, yo.

give me a garment of praise

2011-11-29T22:29:00.002+08:00

Father, there was change today. I'm still a little confounded -and tired- by it. But, I trust You! So we'll do this.

a receipe for: a happy family

2011-11-19T21:05:00.005+08:00

humbled by my parents' love and how much they are willing to set aside just because we are theirs. and i am further humbled because i know what kind of children we are- my brother and i are not the easiest of children in ourselves, let alone to raise, not by a long shot.

i think over the past ten minutes and see how important kindness is. which brings a groan within because i know who i am and what i'm most like. hope of redemption, yes, always, but sometimes people have more to redeem and i am one of those.

kindness, and then some joy. some laughter that makes lovers crinkle their eyes at each other, and until they have a baby to laugh at. it don't matter how he look like, tall and fat is as good as any if he has a heart that beats right.

i dunno, maybe it's because i'm in a sombre mood i feel the most despairing and boring of people. like, Lord, let it be, could i be ones of these? but, ahwell. as i was saying-

kindness and gentleness, with lots of laughter in between; how's that for a family receipe.

2011-11-10T21:12:00.002+08:00

Life- i know it's not friday but it sure feels like it. i weighed my life just now and the scales read happy; although, i suppose that's not gospel truth since it tends to be about recaliberating- back to Christ and His. but anyway-

it's like a friday happy :)

hullo november-

2011-11-04T19:50:00.004+08:00

i intend to enjoy you.

it's friday night, and i'm at home spending a quiet evening, instead of running about in town with x face or group. last week i came home at 4.30am, and forgot the world, the world forgot. waking up at a quarter to four is an announcement to make once a season, and not oftener.

tonight i am feeling affectionate, and i lavish my affection on this place. never mind how sad that sounds. i am fully entitled to lavish my affection on spaces- spaces, mind, not inanimate objects. besides, any space that has spent seven years- we're into our eighth now- with me has the right to my affections. i will miss this little corner if i ever leave; it's seen me grow from them jc days. which totally explains the name; observe the expression of individuality and nerdiness blended into a combination of seventeen year old cool.

speaking of which, often, i think about- the arrival gate of our country's airport. i like it much better than the departure gate, which i almost never go, unless leaver falls in the space (space) where in-my-heart and self-is-able-to-handle-saying-goodbye meet. things don't really go well otherwise.

i'll go the distance/if it brings you back to me, sings yamagata, and well, really? would you? would i? questions i could think about, but thoughtfulness brings a darkness, sometimes. i've learnt the fallacy of wondering-wandering- in vacuums; also, recently, i was taught to think in context.

this appetite for words appears insatiable/shooting out words on overdrive.

anyone tried pickled mushrooms in olive oil? it's one of those things too good to keep to the self. courtesy of the god-grandmother; God bless god-grandmothers. i know with all certainty i can eat it every night for a week: obession reminiscent of tang yuan craze years and years ago. methinks i'll always remember walking over to beauty world after school for the tang yuan fix till, one day i woke up and knew it was over. but back to pickled mushrooms in olive oil- for now, the only thing that's keeping me from devouring the little pickled bottle is the mental reminder that it's meant to be shared; childhood lesson sacrosanct. i won't have it every night for a week, in spite of myself.

ah, fit's over. as a suitably suitable ending, i have to say, i absolutely dig the english major label. linguist pride.

2011-10-27T22:40:00.003+08:00

so my dad was telling me about his plan to change our car's engine system to be more efficient, since petrol prices keep rising. as i sat there and listened to his description, i thought- 'i have such a cool dad'.

it's still the same :)

drops of jupiter/ in a burning room

2011-10-13T16:48:00.007+08:00

- oh, for a place of beauty.

because i've been to milky-blue lakes and ancient glaciers, and skies rolling beyond the sea. i've seen steppes and boys riding bareback on horses, leaping up and galloping wild into the fields. i've seen mountains that moved me to silent whispers, streams that rippled crystal clear over smooth oval pebbles.

i've seen the sea in sepia, i've seen it in technicolor. i've seen the sun set in splendour that took my breath away; i saw the moon rise from behind the hill, near enough to touch. i'll always remember, perhaps, trying to catch the moon. thank you, you who were once here, for imagining with me, precisely for not saying, the moon cannot be caught.

beauty is no longer part of my daily living, and what we don't see - reality|memory is- nothing more substantial than a film of tracing paper. more than that, something within has lain down and closed its eyes, that once was alive. it doesn't live here, it can't.

- time: a matter of colour shading in, -and sleep is a smell.

mom applies computer studies to real life-

2011-10-10T19:54:00.003+08:00

[i've been educating mom on the wonders of ctrl+a/c/n/v/s/z/y on word docs]

me: so remember, ctrl+z is to undo, ctrl+y is to redo.

mom pauses for awhile, then-

mom: so if i want nat to go back to that cute, sweet little boy, i press ctrl+z?

me: [startled, but-] yes. and let's say you press ctrl+z too many times and he becomes an amoebae and goes back to your womb, what do you press?

mom: mm. ctrl+y?

clever mommy.

2011-10-07T18:11:00.007+08:00

one two three four- ev'ry-day im prayer-in'

you know you've been drinking a lot of tea when, on the way back from returning your breakfast plate you happen to make eye contact with the drink aunty and the next thing you know you're back at your seat with a cup of tea in hand, somehow. i've got tea in the brain.

mmm hi, october's week old already; i meant to come here so many times in september but what with one thing after another; never quite made it. so much happened in september. all the lists and thoughts i jotted on the fly (i had to let them out somewhere) won't find themselves here, i don't think. moment's gone.

october's the month people think of christmas, i don't know why. daddy talked of october and christmas the same sentence, as did g, and someone else in conversation. i remember sitting in a certain car one year ago, and christmas songs were playing as we went down braddell road. do you think it's weird? i replied, no, truthfully.

poor october, a month loved not for its own.

[where did my tea go? i glance down at my glass; a mere mouthful sits and looks pathetically at me]

i sit too, and it comes to me that contentment comes in the cool weather, a cup of tea and space for thinking. - and peace with God. little things, in a framework of the fundemental.

yesterday i sat with m-r over drinks and we discussed piercings thoroughly, amongst other things. sometime in the night i woke up and found myself touching my collarbone. in the meantime the default air has turned light, and breezy, with hints of chill. my colleages and i have been adding to packs of assorted teas in our area- earl grey twinnings, harrods (earl grey and apple), japanese green tea, honey, vanilla and chamomile tea- i stuck up a post-it today; it is the happiness corner. /hɑpɪnəs kɔ:nə/

rachael yamagata is playing into my earphones; i can't think with the guitar strumming, the shaker going on in the background while she sings, paper doll. hopefully i'll come again quite soon.

2011-09-16T14:51:00.003+08:00

l had a monster meltdown today, so bad we had to evacuate the rest of the class.

seeing the rest of them scared, moving to corners, behind screens, hearing the cries and screams, seeing j throw himself into the sturdy ixora bushes outside, dashing onto the road; having to call for the therapist, seeing her run over, coming back to the classroom and seeing miss j locking him into the safety position, and yet still needing male assistance in the end;
torn papers broken watches thrown bottles scattered leaves angry l unresponsive p unanswering p helpless x locked in y. replay replay replay. bad day. bad friday. don't wreck my tgif; i'm sorry kid, we all had ours torn.
"i hate fridays. i hate l. i hate. i hate. i hate", words scored in and i agree with you, p, fridays are our black days. our monster days. our monster days.

on blaise pascal, and smiling.

2011-09-05T14:41:00.010+08:00

1) i really, really <3 tea

2) you see the smile that's on my mouth/

it's hiding the words that don't come out

3) i am amused by Pascal-

68 Men are never taught to be gentlemen, and are taught everything else;

and they never plume themselves so much on the rest of their knowledge as on knowing how to be gentlemen.

They only plume themselves on knowing the one thing they do not know.

4) and like him better than i did when studying stats-

72 _Man's disproportion._--

[This is where our innate knowledge leads us. If it be not true, there is no truth in man; and if it be true, he finds therein great cause for humiliation, being compelled to abase himself in one way or another. And since he cannot exist without this knowledge, I wish that, before entering on deeper researches into nature, he would consider her both seriously and at leisure, that he would reflect upon himself also, and knowing what proportion there is....] Let man then contemplate the whole of nature in her full and grand majesty, and turn his vision from the low objects which surround him. Let him gaze on that brilliant light, set like an eternal lamp to illumine the universe; let the earth appear to him a point in comparison with the vast circle described by the sun; and let him wonder at the fact that this vast circle is itself but a very fine point in comparison with that described by the stars in their revolution round the firmament. But if our view be arrested there, let our imagination pass beyond; it will sooner exhaust the power of conception than nature that of supplying material for conception. The whole visible world is only an imperceptible atom in the ample bosom of nature. No idea approaches it. We may enlarge our conceptions beyond all imaginable space; we only produce atoms in comparison with the reality of things. It is an infinite sphere, the centre of which is everywhere, the circumference nowhere.[30] In short it is the greatest sensible mark of the almighty power of God, that imagination loses itself in that thought.

because i need some rescuing, and some saving.

2011-09-02T16:38:00.004+08:00

they say the first step to recovery is admission- well then, i confess to a recent touch of mild obsession with sodoku (sokudo?). next sign of a more than mild touch will be the mastery of its name.

tonight i sit here with matt redman playing on repeat (i need the song), and thinking over the day. in the morning i went swimming, finally. it was good, pushing through waters that held me up. everything was blue, and i am a brown tan now. my hair still smells faintly of chlorine, chlorine that seeped in through the laps while i swam and thought thoughts.

speaking of thoughts, i have been trying. i try because i believe in the end point. i know what i'm looking at, and i will know it better than i know it now.

/can i be alone with my thoughts? prolonged was the season wherein i could, but for now, i cannot.

the King's Daughters (:

2011-08-29T22:34:00.004+08:00

palimpsest

2011-08-27T12:49:00.002+08:00

BATTER my heart, three person’d God; for, you

As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend;

That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow mee,’and bend

Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.

I, like an usurpt towne, to’another due,

Labour to’admit you, but Oh, to no end,

Reason your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,

But is captiv’d, and proves weake or untrue.

Yet dearely’I love you,’and would be loved faine,

But am betroth’d unto your enemie:

Divorce mee,’untie, or breake that knot againe;

Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I

Except you’enthrall mee, never shall be free,

Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.

- Batter My Heart, Three Person’d God (Holy Sonnet XIV) by John Donne

2011-08-22T19:57:00.006+08:00

why does one week feel like two, or even three?

one day wrongs will be made right, and all stories told with perfect truth, but for now the heartache is ours to bear, the tears ours to grieve. and how can you understand save you once held the same pain?

the story i know is but a microcosm in the great tapestry of sorrows, woven by countless all over, nameless since time anew. for how many stories are heard in this age, innit. yet we trust in the promise that each account has been recorded, and will one day be judged with perfect justice, mete with perfect love.

i should keep my mind on higher things.

Happy national day, said the baby

2011-08-10T12:47:00.005+08:00

from n, paper bullet shooter, heart stabber, blood pillow stauncher. also the owner of natsu, a babe so sweet that when i first saw her picture it didn't occur to me she could actually be real and on the roads. but real and on the roads she is, and grand. mmm. i've lost the rest of my commission in the sleepiness of 1.35am, but here are my impressions- a little night laughter, and a hand gesturing in the orange light, asking me to take it all in.

"Oil-fuel has given him a dreadful cough, and he has retired to the coast of Ireland for a little sunshine."

2011-08-09T13:20:00.004+08:00

i have recently fallen for the periodic table. the various personalities, along with each painstaking obedient detail and the minuteness of it all, had me at rapt attention. if environments had been different i'd have studied chemistry, or quantum physics. i think i could marry a quantum physicist. for the moment, i'm aiming for a periodic table shirt.

so a while ago i was at various websites and readings - sometimes i think i try to make sense of the world around me when i do that- and i read up a bit about oxygen (don't ask why oxygen). did you know what oxygen is made in stars? and stars that do nuclear at that. nuclear fire from massive gk chesterton sized stars (five or more Earth suns) forms ash, and oxygen be part of that. also, it is entirely scientific to say "excited oxygen atoms emit green light"; in other words, oxygen atoms form the red and green lights in the aurora borealis.

also, a definition of faerie i want to keep: "... among these are the satisfaction of certain primordial human desires... the realisation, independent the conceiving mind, of imagined wonder" (tolkien). in the meantime then, the mystery.

well. while we're on the topic of being cool, apparently it's national book week. so-

Grab the closest book to you. Go to page 56. Copy the 5th sentence as your status. Don't mention the book. Post these rules.

"Oil-fuel has given him a dreadful cough, and he has retired to the coast of Ireland for a little sunshine."

2011-08-04T22:44:00.005+08:00

i'm not sure if my thoughts have been trustworthy of late; what they think and construct upon. especially the future, which is such a shapeshifter. the only conviction of recent weeks that i would stand by: the deeper the confrontation of sin, the greater the love for God come down.

2011-07-31T17:01:00.001+08:00

hmmm.

2011-07-30T11:04:00.000+08:00

"I simply argue that the cross be raised again at the centre of the marketplace as well as on the steeple of the church. I am recovering the claim that Jesus was not crucified in a cathedral between two candles, but on a cross between two thieves; on the town garbage heap; at a crossroad so cosmopolitan that they had to write his title in Hebrew and Latin and in Greek; at the kind of place where cynics talk smut and thieves curse, and soldiers gamble. Because that is where he died. And that is what he died about. And that is where churchmen ought to be, and what churchmen should be about.” - George MacLeod

perhaps i should have named oatmeal, eliot-

2011-07-28T20:49:00.003+08:00

some of the brilliance might have rubbed off then.

two feathers have appeared on the former's otherwise bald american eagle's head; hope of handsomeness. in the meantime he remains single-minded and biasedly curious. sometimes he wrings my heart in his patient hopeless waiting, at others he drives me to name-calling and other insults, like today when i had to clean up after his poop inbetween reading eliot. mostly i am exasperated at my inconsistency.

does anyone else like eliot/the mill on the floss? credit goes to whoever called it a tragedy of the everyday; i can't agree more. and all that tension, be still my heart.

(haha oatmeal is so sleepy he's closing his eyes on standing on my laptop, but the silly bird refuses to go to his box.)

and-

hi 24, you have had me confounded for most of this year. but let's see what we can do with you.

2011-07-24T22:20:00.004+08:00

i just spent the past hour or so cutting my hair :)

didn't know that much time was passing; it felt more like twenty minutes actually. and i must say i'm pretty darn pleased with the result; cheers.

in other news, i'm happily counting down to the end of july. work is such a refining process, really. but as g reminded us the past thursday, our work rests on Christ's- which is already perfect, already complete. crazy truth. this means no striving for merit, no search for validation or worth through the work of my hands. because His work was the ultimate fulfillment, i may do mine without fear. what a relief to the otherwise insatiable demands of the burden. liberte!

speaking of time and counting, i often wonder what 2012 will see. i am not insensible to the fact that 2011 has been pretty well swirled, like flavours rainbowing basic ice+cream. and it's only(already) july! i can smell the end of the year. :) -sniff sniff.

our work rests on Christ's- already perfect, already complete. thank God.

the new four letter word

2011-07-18T18:40:00.004+08:00

so, work is still teh sadness.

i don't know what it is about work that turns otherwise would-be perfectly exuberant girls into serious ones, talking quietly while cocoa cream cheese muffins bake. why is it, that back in uni we could be stressed with essays and projects and yet, when meeting up over a cup of tea we could be so cheerful, so happy.

and why is it that events two years ago still count? once in awhile, i'll remember flashes of what transpired that blazing day by the reservoir, and a part of me ruefully concludes that if nothing else perhaps i have been proven true.

i don't know, i wish i did. every day i tell myself that this, the daily grind, calls of duty, meetings, behaviour management and classroom control has its purpose, and worth, in a place where i feel neither drive nor ambition, faithfulness is the offering i bring. to learn to do well at tasks that seem to demand what i am precisely weakest at. does it have to be dreary?

oh, stuff and bunnies. (and zirrafes)

so you know the patterns of my thoughts

2011-07-02T21:20:00.004+08:00

hi weekend, a perfectly lovely one so far. i have just finished some soup and am content. yesterday i met mummy after seeing the doctor and we wrote a letter to my grand-uncle to china while waiting for daddy to come. today i heard a woman speak; she seemed to hold women in very high regard. maybe i should pick up a something, something to be interested in and work at. went shopping with gayle last night, not that we bought anything but it was so nice to be appreciating clothes. there was the prettiest coral dress, but not in my size, awh. after that i met the guys and a girl named charissa at old school. they morphed into a camera club without telling me, so scarf, dress and i ended up on a sleepy heap on the boards of the singapore river. sometime after four i reached home and woke up when daddy called my name. i am currently reading rudyard kipling; unbelieveable how it took me 24 years to get there. when i have children to read to this will be their bedtime story. speaking of bedtime, it's mine. goodnight world.

update: putting up a photo j took of me in said sleepy heap; not that i remember this

yours truly, in haste

2011-06-28T17:44:00.003+08:00

i'd originally planned to write about colours, but mmmm.

hl mailed complaining about cute christian girls, and asking why 'must y'all be so cute'. i don't know the effects, but i could offer my sympathies (: that, and also because i don't know how else to reply.

i chopped open my first durian today, hurray. i came home hoping there'd be, and there was. only, this one wasn't cut more than a crack. for my mommy to inspect, i suppose. so i took the biggest knife i could find, visions of chopping thumb off, mentally positioning myself in anticipation should the cleaver separate from the handle, etc- it's hard to open a durian! in the end i took the stone thing- i don't know what it's called locally, but they use it when making som tum-and banged my way through. was rather proud of myself when everything fell apart, 1101e of surviving on a desert island, and all that.

so i'll be an asset on durian island, all i need is a knife and stone. let's go.

2011-06-02T15:01:00.002+08:00

"rachel and work are like two diametrically opposite notions"

- j's initial disbelief to news that i've been working for awhile

not that i think it's true; what was funny was his reaction. there were other things i said i'd remember, but somehow i didn't or else they lost their flavour and this was the only one absolute enough in excess to be memorable. some kind of humourous.

my toenail paints are taking ages to strip away, and meanwhile they scratch themselves hoarse. soon enough i will take stacks of paper and a black pen and exhaust myself of words and events, then sit and stare at pomogrenate vines till they turn into fireflies. before that happens though, i am going to eat durian. i had an awkward car moment yesterday.

i don't know why my knee's taking so long to heal this time; i think i am properly scared now and will not run long-distance again, i have joined the club of clanking bones. :( but at least there's the swimming pool, if i ever get down to that. knee, please heal soon- i cannot walk until you do.

thrown by one, meant for another

2011-05-24T17:43:00.004+08:00

today my netball training came in handy, as i deflected a hurtling textbook before it reached its intended.

in other news, the clouds have been strange lately, calling me to stop and captivate. today they were almost alive, set against the wide white-blueness-

five

low-lying,

huge, silent, sitting

cloud sheep

awaiting their shepherd.

mass of thin runny clouds,

egg-white spread over a pan.

canyons too near to touch

base without beginning.

citadel of cities,

mighty and compelling,

glorious light so bright.

tired by tears

2011-05-08T23:08:00.001+08:00

i thought my reaction (i teared) at the results of GE 2011 last night was mega, but i should see myself now.

many things could be said of Singapore's elections this year- if we gathered all the words written and spoken, commented and discussed, perhaps we would drown.

winners and losers, gracious defeats and arrogant presumptions. a man's character never meant so much: weighed by deed and fleshed for all to see.

dancing between the drops

2011-04-20T21:04:00.004+08:00

abcde,

let me pick my way slowly through the pieces. the past four, almost five months have passed in a blur; it's unfair that happens because each day comes so vividly, they shouldn't get mashed up together like they didn't matter or have individualities, they did. i have gone from amused to novel, to blasé, to worn, to a hundred places in between. some days it feels like i stand in a white room while jigsaw pieces rain down upon me, things are breathless and piling up, the clues the obstacles, my hair loose falling down my back.

these months are for waiting, waiting is not so hard anymore. i sit sometimes, stand sometimes, move around like a stop-motion video. where i am has desks and chairs, cupboards and screens. the world is stopping for the weekend. i don't move as much as skirt, navigating between metal cages and books, glares and growls. now and then the clock breaks down and i am left dangling in space, leaning against the wall. sunlight fights for space with me and i lose time. everything is yellow and outside the glass panes are tiny men constructing a river from soil.

memories that flash have cheated, vietnam, mongolia and new zealand. impersonable, i have found the word. today i tried foreign, distant, past. i wonder why, and if it is because they wandered to other ports of call. the flavour is gone out of them- they are a stranger's memories. or perhaps i am the stranger, and these are someone else's memories seeking refuge in me. she keeps the flavours, i the chronology. once you were gone/it was never an honest world

there isn't really much else to say, except i think of the present and future all the time, and impassively of the past. i find hearts and size them up, sit on buses and lose myself. this is a time of waiting.

2011-04-13T18:24:00.002+08:00

1) while waiting under a bus stop whose roof leaked, holding an umbrella over me i heard a fat man whistle, whistle a tune, whistle a hymn.

2) i have four letters scattered before the keys; one bound for australia, the other new zealand, one for bristol and one for home.

3) and yes hl, i can drive. why do you ask?

perhaps he's right

2011-04-10T19:21:00.004+08:00

me: ... and at three i have a meeting-
j: yeah i'm going for it too
me: (stares for an inordinately long time while mind flashes various tables and people around tables trying to find j's face in one of them) oh... that's right.
j: you're in too many committees la

our newspapers are torn for space

2011-04-01T17:36:00.004+08:00

g said that this year has been simply tragic, and she is too right. i still have no words for the 20th of march, and how a and m are still grieving. what does it all mean?

and then there's the new phase of life i have entered. i couldn't sleep last night, and got to thinking. news of a trip to yogyakata that i will not be able to take leave for was demoralising at midnight, and triggered waves of missing i had near forgotten. things that have changed since three months: thinking, time and community. i have been held under by this environment for too long, and have too many responsibilities out of it. what this means is there is no place and no space to think. and then i miss the ifg people- they're the home i left too completely too suddenly, i don't see them anymore.
i can't stay where i am too long; water will burst my lungs.

2011-03-16T13:59:00.002+08:00

stories of loss and heroism are from time forgotten.

but that there had to be stories at all- beggars the mind.
is winged mars atop gaia now, that libya shoots its own people, and civilians prepare for violence? and how, that the catastrophe befalling christchurch should be entirely eclipsed by the pyre of japan. a 'threefold assault of shaking land, swollen water and... poisoned air', as one writer put it.

here, now, the rain falls over our land, beautiful. but no calm to the heart is offered, no ease to the consternation. no answer for the questions inside.
what adds on is the complete disparity of their situation and mine.

what is the response to be offered from one individual to nations, what can be offered at all. what does it mean to rise up to the challenge, this time?

glasses glasses glasses

2011-02-25T22:53:00.002+08:00

the above title has to do with a promise i made with one of my kids that i'd "write that in my diary". the one day last week i got too tired to stuff plastic into my eyeballs had funny results; these days i have to negotiate when i'm allowed to wear contacts.

something i've been wanting to say for the longest time: j has ted baker glasses and they are too sexy.

wisdom, i bid thee come- or perhaps patience

2011-02-09T20:26:00.007+08:00

this post has been summarised -

time-stressed and time-starved is a lie, and Time need never be my enemy.

2011-01-15T13:11:00.004+08:00

am sitting on little sofachair in room typing on little laptop (as opposed to alfredo), with chairlift's bruises playing in the background on groovesharks, a streaming (?) thing ky introduced me to; i foresee it being somewhat of a regular companion on the rare days i have the luxury to laze with feet on yummy rug, like today. the song reminds me of the days with a, and how we got each other through uni. i miss him, and wonder if he'll remember the promise of fleaing together, i didn't get a reply to my last text. although that could really be my phone's fault; as g said, "my phone is the pits".
but everyone's on super advanced phones these days; i'm happy with my old school nokia so ancient some of my students mistake it for topsecret stateoftheart uberexclusive technology. they are so cute.

screaming uno spin, chocolate and drinks treat by winner and loser. being told one day i look sixteen, and asked if i'm married the next. am i eurasian, no. i look japanese with my brown faux leather jacket, and ugly in my brother's sports polo. running down the circular stairs towards the cafe because there's a last-mintue meeting and we can't go out for lunch anymore. why cannot throw things,- because they will get lost, i reply. i think he has won some of my heart but he wanders around and forgets i exist even if i walk past, not until i am in my proper place at the proper time, things work that way in his world and he asks me questions again. gobbling a starbucks chocolate muffin into my mouth because it is his class next and i will need all the chocolate i can get, the drama class, miss j calls them.

maybe monday, we will go play more games, before my second goodbye. there is a third to come. for someone who hates goodbyes, i certainly have a number of them to perform. thoreau said that friends form the langditudes and longditudes of the world; and i don't know why i took so long to echo, i believe so much in it. like, hi, your continent will never be the same again.

my alma mater organised a film screening; there are films i want to watch, but no one who'll still be around seems awake enough.

this post will only be about work

2011-01-11T16:49:00.003+08:00

-because i need boundaries.

it's amazing how i can occasionally (on all of two counts) arrive home feeling something like open-eyed conscious (as opposed to the usual walking around with eyes asleep) and telling myself that yes, today i will settle my personal life, but within literally half an hour my body is prodding me for the bed. it's half an hour now.

but i haven't made it this far in many days, so i may as well push myself for another paragraph or two more; otherwise i'll continue feeling stuck with words up to the eusophogus (clearly my spelling skills are dramatically detoriating). well no, it's not as bad as it sounds really, i haven't sold my life to work; but it's been proving true that in the law of three, something has to give. i've been at work and meeting people in real time real life; keeping up with people in the online sphere has all but collapsed.

in the times i do open my inbox, facing a hundred-odd mails each sitting is tiring, as is playing catchup with those who communicate with me virtually. people leaving for overseas, friends i haven't seen for months, important things, then there's the little -but many- things that happen, like photos that are uploaded, commented on multiple of multiple times, etc.

i do like keeping in touch with people in this way, in these little ways, but while i'm still figuring out how to adjust and adapt to this new, long-term life, i suppose i shall continue feeling bad. haha.

it's reaching the 45th minute, i shall listen to my body. in the meantime, i'll leave a photo, of another life, another place. here's one for the kids.

since i'm not doing a post-mortem this year...

2010-12-31T19:04:00.004+08:00

let's end with one of those desultory photos. on another note, i'm getting fonder of the really stupid photos i take, those with mis-timed faces and half-grimaces, and also, i seriously need to cut hair.

2010-12-15T13:36:00.003+08:00

there are some things i could wish to be settled before the passing of the year, only i don't know if i should or how. sometimes things blare before your face and you can't deny how ugly you are. nope.

issues on my hands, surely they ought to be more than just grey slather hanging between my fingers. but such take time, and understanding.

with the new year comes- so much. i have no resource to envisage a year with asd, news which swept me off my feet but i ought to rise and meet come what may with equanimity. and what of the past? along along with conversations unexpected and information unanticipated. bigger picture, maybe, my God sure does tie me up in knots. hii, am i Your origami?
just, i would love reconciliation, but You know best and i wait on Your timing. You know our hearts, and what we can take. christmas wish Your way.

perhaps we're all just singing along to the same old broken song
come save us from ourselves

reflections; or, the aftermath

2010-11-25T16:07:00.002+08:00

Dear God,

so it's over. surreal, really. that there are no more meetings, no more plannings, no more rehearsals. i suppose it's true, we are creatures of habit and. more than that, i'm saying what i honestly thought i never would: i miss it. although i guess if i'd thought about it a bit more i would have known all along i would, ultimately. serving You brings a joy and ache in transposition.

bet You're pleased i confess that =Pp i really never thought i would though! it was dreadful along the way, the troughs and trudgings that meant for a period, i dreaded checking my mail. i determined to never, ever, serve again- i'm so glad i'm wrong :) that i find myself willing to take leave for the next children's camp.

it's over, it's over. feels like i lost more weight during the course, which would be kind of messed up. and my voice is a mortality count, along with my pride and rebelliousness. ohwell. these things have multiple lives.

thank You, for who You are. that Your Body here on earth is such a beautiful one- when it comes together and lives for You. a tiny glimpse/a dark shadow of the magnified gloriousness of eternity, when we are wonderfully righteous, never more to fall. i can't, can't, can't, can't wait for that day, Father. :)

i love love love love love You.

Amen.

but i need something more

2010-11-22T21:43:00.003+08:00

"No, Mom," he sniffled, eyes wide as saucers as he plead his case, "I mean I twied and twied to tell my body not to do it, but it happened anyway on an accident. I didn't mean it. My bwain told my body not to, but it leaned in anyway and then it opened my mouth. I tried weally hard to close my mouth but it just bit down on her. It was all an accident! I pwomise."

I am not a softy when it comes to discipline. But, seriously, if that wasn't the best argument of sin nature I have ever heard!"

Honey, that is not an accident. That is sin. You cannot sin in your anger."

We talked very briefly (and in 6 year old terms) about what Paul wrote in Romans:
What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can't be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God's command is necessary.
But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time. It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up.
Romans 7:15-21 (The Message)

lotsofscotts.blogspot.com

2010-11-15T11:52:00.003+08:00

so many thoughts about this i don't know what to think. what's right, what's wrong, through whose perspective. anger flares up, dies down, or else held on and curt. is grace really misunderstood today? what does that mean? i don't know. it looks like mistrust, unkindness and condemnation but things could always be construed another way.

i do know what i wished we look like though.

God, please?

2010-11-10T10:20:00.002+08:00

and i wish i was the wisest, most perceptive and discerning of all, so that i could have an answer that made sense to help you get through it.
and i wish i was the gentlest, with the most winning of ways, that i would be able to hand you that bitter pill to swallow.
or i wish i had all power in the world, so i could change your situation and you would be happy again.

i'm really banking on the promise that prayer works though. that God will hear, and my God who is able to do immeasurably above all that we ask or think, will bless you, and keep you, and give you grace. and do all that i wish i could, cuz He can.

2010-11-03T10:19:00.000+08:00

today i read through romans 7 & 8.

resounding.

2010-10-23T12:11:00.002+08:00

have you ever met someone you'd like to spend Forever with? i can think of two now.

not Forever in the romantic, sadly vague to the point of untruth, a word simply poinked down to fill the space that the mouth unleashes when trying to real.ise the conception of an unknown amount of time happily together, with pink and gold sunset hues in the background. was at timbre last night, and that happened. three months together and they're hoping for forever. no, what i mean is Forever in the literal sense, the eternity our hearts know and respond to, the promise we hear whispering in ourselves in the times we are quiet enough, the call of eternity.

but we deny it, bury it, distract ourselves to death. city kids, where's our purpose to be found? what will last when we give up our last breaths?

no wonder we're like sheep without a shepherd, wandering on bleat. and we've gone one step up; sheeps on a rebel cause, fleeing from our guide and into the arms of the butcher. i wish we would think, i wish we would give more consideration to the hard questions. hard questions aren't only meant for the intellectuals.

i would like to see my two friends in Forever.

2010-10-22T12:16:00.002+08:00

today feels like monday; i thought it was monday.

today feels like monday because the week has been turned on its head and hours scrumpled up, nights lasting as long as day and longer than days. sleep was caught wide awake, and dreaming of reality. what's a body to do in these situations?

enjoy what one can, i suppose.

because it was quite an eventful week. wrapping up the memories are a walk through the night safari, darkness and fonds and i swear i smelt animal when i walked through the path home. cameras, tripod and sitting on a's shoulders to see the hyenas better while j held my hand for support. i hadn't done that since being a little girl; there's a beautiful trust in resting on someone's shoulders, seems to me.

unrelatedly: we persist in asking why, sometimes because we don't want the answers/truth. it's the old news happening to new people, and the rugged cross providing life and salvation for all who will believe.

2010-10-18T10:56:00.002+08:00

"... Contrition is a word that has fallen out from our vocabulary, though it remains a powerful call to one of the deepest places of worship. As David discovered, it is not an easy call to answer; it runs counter to our instinct to run, calling us instead to come near with a broken heart, with our own disappointment. The word "contrite" derives from the Latin word contritus, meaning pulversized or ground to pieces. While this may be exactly the fearful condition we seek to avoid, it is not a word meant to describe what God will do to a running child when he is finally caught. Rather, it describes what happens to a child's heart when she catches a glimpse of the mess inside it. Yet, in the wilful act of allowing our hearts to be broken in pieces by our own sin, it is here that God and God's mercy are nearest. The shattered soul is far closer to wholeness than the one who refuses in fear or vanity to see that it is in pieces at our own hands. To be contrite is to stop running and to turn without panic or pride to the one who has been running with us all along. ..."

http://www.rzim.org/usa/usfv/tabid/436/articleid/10713/cbmoduleid/1133/default.aspx

2010-10-16T11:03:00.003+08:00

and today, as much as ever, i am thankful that this world is not all there is. thankful that my God is fully holy, and His is not a relative standard of goodness and justice. that one day, all wrongs will be made right, and every tear will be wiped away. and there shall be no more sorrow, no more pain.

2010-10-10T21:48:00.003+08:00

sunday's over, thank God for sundays, i like sundays, but oof, so tired.

so g, r, and i met up today, the most uncoordinated of meetings but sure, i didn't mind. chanced upon a two storied cafe, dark purple walls, mirror squares, and low, soft things everywhere. we napped there, at least g and r did. i leaned too far right, fell off the sofa and stayed squashed awake amongst scattered cushions. daddy called. mtvs played. we didn't know who lady gaga is/was, not enough to identify her at least. r ate wings, g played with her dslr and we took half hearted photos. maybe i'll add one in, if gayle gets around to putting them up. we didn't pose very well.

we stoned our way from an srrfm, interesting concept but it looks like true free markets (in the economic sense) have some way to go before gaining acceptance in singapore. read: a long way, if ever. jayed into another clumation of goods and people, monopolistic competition this time. like the one z and i went to probably exactly a year ago, the one at robber street, or something. green grass, green fence and we sipped soya bean we'd bought along the way. an ant just walked across my thigh and now struts sniffily back and forth the top of mr darcy (my laptop). i've seen him for some days now, always at nights, streaking diagonal up the wall at my right, crossing pencil markings i've drawn onto cream concrete, leaving little anty prints. he has his own business to conduct, he's an ant on a mission. i try not to accidentally demolish his life.

it's five past ten. r's been in bed for some time already. g's been home even longer. i lie back; my sunday's wrapping itself up.

2010-10-09T10:30:00.002+08:00

just wanted to think a bit more on the idea of treasures in jars of clay; gotten from an article whose link i've put a couple of posts down. it seems to me most powerful, the confounding picture of strength in weakeness. treasures in jars of clay; who would do that? who else but God, really, i suppose. the first level i really like (from 2 Corinthians 4:7-10) is how as we carry Jesus' death in our bodies His life is manifested in us. which sounds weird in a literal sense but thank God for spiritual understanding. as we live out His death (death to the self, obedience to the cross and so on), His life is made all the more evident in us, mayhaps like a tree that grows from the death of a seed. the imagery and promise of richness and life is good for the thirsting soul.

the second level extends from the individual into community: what the gospel must mean for humanity. knowing that Christ embraced the weak -and weakness- in passion, us having treasures in jars of clay are likewise called to live, finding His strength in our weakness.

2010-10-07T10:28:00.002+08:00

speaking of waiting, look what arrived in the mail today (yes, the mail as in letterbox mail. because my friends love me so):

Clinging to God in Solitude
by Henri Nouwen

'When we enter into solitude to be with God alone, we quickly discover how dependent we are without the many distractions of our daily lives, we feel anxious and tense when nobody speaks to us, calls on us, or needs our help, we start feeling like nobodies.

Then we begin wonering whether we are useful, valuable, and significant. Our tendency is to leave this fearful solitude quickly and get busy again to reassure ourselves that we are "somebodies". But that is a temptation, because what makes us somebodies is not other people's responses to us but God's eternal love for us.

To claim the truth of ourselves we have to cling to our God in solitude as to the One who makes us who we are.'

Emphasis mine.

while this hasn't really been my experience (i do get out and go about, meeting people, working with projects etc), i think it captures the perspective that people tend to look through to me. often the questions they ask, 'what do you do?', 'so you haven't found a job?', 'when are you going to start working?', 'and until then..?', reflect the mindset that a jawb is my end goal, when really, there are goals to be appreciated and fulfilled in this time too. i remain really thankful that God has given me this space of x months (where x is a number only He knows) to rest, to expand, to be.

so let's end with the verse mary-ruth wrote:

"Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom

or the strong man boast of his strength

or the rich man boast of his riches.

But let him who boasts boast about this:

that he understands and knows me,

that I am the Lord,

who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth,

for in these I delight"

Jeremiah 9:23-24

v24 gives me the shivers man, and makes my heart expand.

2010-10-06T10:40:00.002+08:00

last night, i dreamt of stairways and stairwells, sinister agents and secret meetings. it ended with a young taxi driver getting into trouble, and me running through unending alleys in a dark night.

i was looking at old posts, and realised i used to be terribly personal. these days i've switched over to ___ .

speaking of these days, it's been a wonderful few-many months, since may/july, however you want to mark the start point. and at the same time it strikes me more clearly than ever that singaporeans associate very strongly productivity with doing, in other words it's very hard for them to understand (if they do at all) that times of waiting can also be-and has been for me- times of productivity. and i'm never very good at explaining myself anyway so invariably they leave with the same ideas they came with. oops and bleah, unambiguous sign that yours truly must never sign for miss universe. hmm but seriously, there are some kind of questions/inquiries that leave me dumb.

in any case, i wonder when this happy time will end. it has to, ultimately if i am to go on to the next phase and i've said what i have to to God, so it's alright. it's all good.

2010-09-29T10:14:00.002+08:00

1) from chambers:

. . . someone said to Him, ’Lord, I will follow You wherever You go’ —Luke 9:57

Our Lord’s attitude toward this man was one of severe discouragement, “for He knew what was in man” (John 2:25). We would have said, “I can’t imagine why He lost the opportunity of winning that man! Imagine being so cold to him and turning him away so discouraged!” Never apologize for your Lord. The words of the Lord hurt and offend until there is nothing left to be hurt or offended. Jesus Christ had no tenderness whatsoever toward anything that was ultimately going to ruin a person in his service to God. Our Lord’s answers were not based on some whim or impulsive thought, but on the knowledge of “what was in man.” If the Spirit of God brings to your mind a word of the Lord that hurts you, you can be sure that there is something in you that He wants to hurt to the point of its death.

2) 'Journey of Questions':

'Followers of Jesus are called to this place of paradox. It is a place of difficult questions that often go unanswered, and where our earnest desire for immediate answers must be sacrificed as we place our trust in a loving Father. Indeed, the journey of faith is like the journey to Golgotha, for as we go forward in faith, "the questions get harder and harder because they not only stretch the mind they also call us to obedience. [For] the truth has not only to be appropriated, but also to be served".'

~

3) i went to this yesterday, and go back to it again today. only, if you've already gone to the previous article linked above, then to read both links in one sitting may be a bit of an overload! both are quite heavy duty. in this, carattini writes on treasures in jars of clay.

treasures in jars of clay

2010-09-28T11:57:00.003+08:00

remembering last night's experience and conversation, Christ and the gospel are even more strongly counter-cultural. to the worldliness of the world, the message is even shocking. no wonder some embrace it and others recoil. the wonder and mystery of the Story!

arghh =/ =] =']

2010-09-24T09:58:00.004+08:00

`
"As I write this, I am waiting for a bus on a busy corner in an extremely poor community in Central America, in which I lived for a year and have been visiting now for nine years. Most of the time, the tragedy of this place fades into the background of my thoughts, pushed there by familiarity, busyness, and the cheerfulness and resilience of the people who have welcomed me here. Nonetheless, it is evident that the joy many people here display is in clear defiance of the facts of their daily existence.

Sometimes, moments like this one come when I can no longer ignore these facts, and the sense of tragedy becomes overwhelming. I can see garbage strewn around me—plastic bags, empty bottles, crumpled wrappers, cigarettes—things discarded. Since it is located on the site of an old dump, garbage literally serves as the foundation of this mini-city, which is full of people discarded. I see a young girl walking towards school and I wonder if she shares the experience of so many other girls and young women here whose bodies are used, owned, or defaced. I see a boy whose swagger makes him look older and more confident than he probably is. As he joins the group of laughing older boys, I am aware of how likely his future is to be stolen by gangs and drugs. They are more lucrative ventures than most other job options that will be available to him—lucrative as long as he is alive, that is. Beside me is a woman selling tortillas and green mangoes. Like the innumerable other single moms in this community, she must choose between being with her children and feeding them. Even the dogs, whose ugly skeletal bodies manage to reproduce at obscene rates, join this dance of joy and threat, death and life that is ordinary living here.

From behind me, I hear an old man groan; he is struggling to stand up from where he is sitting against a wall. And it seems to me right now that I can hear in his groan the groaning of this whole place, and for that matter, the groaning of all creation that Paul spoke of in Romans as it waits for its redemption. The groaning of these hills, soaked with the blood of those murdered for a cell phone or a pair of shoes. The groaning of this river, polluted with chemicals and sewage. Holy groans. Like the groans of the people in Egyptian slavery that touched the ears and heart of God. Like the groans of the psalmist while his very bones wasted away. Like groans of the crucified One, bearing the weight of the whole world's pain. I want to groan too, because I don't have any words to speak. So I am thankful for the beautiful Spirit who joins the groaning, who takes my conflicted feelings of guilt and anger and love and intercedes for me with "groans that words could not express." Holy groans.

But now, I am struck by something else. I hear the voice of a little girl coming from around the corner, singing loudly and clearly a song I know well: "Oh love of God, how rich and pure, how measureless and strong, it will forevermore endure, the saints' and angels' song!"

Love of God, rich and pure, measureless and strong. In the middle of so much suffering, this can easily sound like the mockery of an indifferent universe. I am certain of one thing: it must either be a cruel joke or the deepest possible truth. It is easy for philosophers and theologians to debate the question of suffering when they are removed from its stark reality. However, it is a costly thing for those who suffer to speak of the love of God in the midst of their pain. That is why their voice carries the ring and force of truth. When it comes to questions of love and suffering, the voice of the smallest, the poorest, and the most vulnerable carries an authority far beyond that of philosophical treatises or the debates of the 'experts.' I have read many good books on this topic, and I have even tried to write about it myself. But I have never read anything that speaks so profoundly to life's deepest groans than the song of this child in this place. This song does not dismiss or deny our groaning, but assures us that we do not groan in an empty void, but in the midst of a universe whose truest reality is Love.

-

Rachel Tulloch is a member of the speaking team with Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Toronto, Canada.

2010-09-16T13:56:00.003+08:00

there was no form nor sound. the mould under the bushes, the moss on the path, and the little brick border, were not visibly changed. but they were changed. a boundary had been crossed. she had come into a world, or into a Person, or into the presence of a Person. somthing expectant, patient, inexorable, met her with no veil or protection between. in the closeness of that contact she perceived at once that the Director's words had been entirely misleading. this demand which now pressed upon her was not, even by analogy, like any other demand. it was the origin of all right demands and contained them. in its light you could understand them: but from them you could know nothing of it. there was nothing, and never had been anything, like this. yet also, everything had been like this: only by being like this had anything existed. in this height and depth and breadth the little idea of herself which she had hitherto called me dropped down and vanished, unfluttering, into bottomless distance, like a bird in space without air. the name me was the name of a being whose existence she had never suspected, a being that did not yet fully exist but which was demanded. it was a person (not the person she had thought) yet also a thing- a made thing, made to please Another and in Him to please all others- a thing being made at this very moment, without its choice, in a shape it had never dreamed of. and the making went on amidst a kind of splendour or sorrow or both, whereof she could not tell whether it was in the moulding hands or in the kneaded lump.

[here's theology for you. that search of spleandour.]

'that hideous strength', c.s. lewis

2010-09-10T00:04:00.002+08:00

for remembering: http://fissions.wordpress.com/2010/09/10/473/#respond

*

anyway, i've been reading lewis' 'four loves', food for thought in every page but this one really struck me. i put it down not to pressure/unsubtlely hint to the male race, but because the Christ-like love is such a humbling love- 'the husband is the head of the wife just in so far as he is to her what Christ is to the Church. he is to love her as Christ loved the Church- read on- and gave his life for her (Ephesians 5:25). this headship, then, is most fully embodied not in the husband we should all wish to be but in him whose marriage is most like a crucifixion; whose wife receives most and gives least, is most unworthy of him, is- in her own mere nature- least lovable. for the Church has no beauty but what the Bridegroom gives her, he does not find, but makes her, lovely. the chrism of this terrible coronation is to be seen not in the joys of any man's marriage but in its sorrows, in the sickness and sufferings of a good wife or the fauls of a bad one, in his unwearying (never paraded) care or his inexhaustible forgiveness: forgiveness, not acquiescence. as Christ sees in the flawed, proud, fanatical or lukewarm Church on earth that Bride who will one day be without spot or wrinkle, and labours to produce the latter, so the husband whose headship is Christ-like (and he is allowed no other sort) never despairs. he is a King Cophetua who after twenty years still hopes that the beggar-girl will one day learn to speak the truth and wash behind her ears.'

mending relationships

2010-09-07T12:05:00.002+08:00

hard to do qt these days.
feels a little like the calm after heavy rain, all's quiet now but that's just because the thunderstorm ran out of energy. things haven't really changed.
hoping it all gets better asap.

as far as a stuffed and sneezy brain can think-

2010-08-30T11:10:00.002+08:00

hmm, i can think of some people who'd like reading this post (oops, linkaging) on the wonder of creation simply for pleasure. true that, insofar as it speaks up for enjoyment, appreciation and value just because it is.

don't despair of a complicated world; instead pray for true sight

2010-08-23T12:32:00.002+08:00

"The world of souls is a mysterious place after all.
But where you see an eye of the kingdom, rejoice.
For God is near."
- petri to a traveller

and hmmm. on people with a past-
and we live as a people called both to remember and to be ready, for we look to the author of the entire story, who was and is and is to come.'

a return to the literary days

2010-08-18T12:16:00.003+08:00

Psalm 42:11 reads: Why are thou cast down, O my soul? And why are thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countanence, and my God. It appears that in this passage, the realities of disorientation and fragmentation are faced by the psalmist, made more hopeless by the use of rhetoric. However, he then transcends the situation through an answer that comes from another source altogether.

Absurdity is made clear through the tension, hilighting the darkness of the situation. In the first two questions, the self is talking to the self- which brings about the question as to who then is talking to whom. There appears to be a separation of the senses, much like the postmodern despair today. The self is fragmented, and there is no need for coherence. There is no salvation, nor hope of it. Thus, there are potentially unanswerable state(s) of being. The psalmist recognises at least two states of being with him, perhaps the strong and weaker, or the senior to the subordinate. This hirerachy is brought out through the use of rhetoric, as the psalmist exercises his right to question unidirectionally. Yet, this hirerachy offers no answer, as both states of being appear quite hopeless. The psalmist has no answers, and therefore resorts to pleading with a soundless soul, while the other self is clearly morose. Thus, we have the clueless and the disheartened, one at odds with the other, and no sign of an answer.

However, and fortuntely, both states are eventually called to one Being. To the disheartened, God be hope. To the clueless, God be the answer. The fragmented self is incapable of providing an answer, no more able than a ripped shirt to sew itself together. The answer to the self and soul's call has therefore to come from another source, one that is whole. Even then, not just whole, but a whole source that has the power to heal beyond itself.

In Christ our various selves find an Integrator, and Redeemer of fallacies. We return to a dialogue with our Creator, and begin the process of healing. No wonder then the psalmist calls God "the health of my countanence". With such an understanding, we can with the psalmist question the soul's cause to be "cast down" or "disquieted" with a stirring answer. For God is still on His throne, He offers hope, He is worthy of praise.

last night i dreamt i was a girl soldier, entering the commando camp to run, but ended up playing netball :S

2010-08-11T12:47:00.004+08:00

- hi world, guess what, it's august already. time must have pulled the rug underneath me sometime somewhere in march, april, may, because it sure doesn't feel like the year is entering the twilight phase. but august is when the silver starts, you know. then things start dying, and in december you either take a sigh, or lift your eyes to the skies.

- today i was reminded, daily sufficient grace. in a way it feels like the first half of 2010 didn't exist in 2010, or else 2010 consisted of jan-may, and now i'm somewhere in 2011, hi everyone i'm like, the new advanced, yo.

- my seasons have changed and it's no longer tied to semesters. i'm still drawing my map. recent significant lessons: telling God i want to know His love for me, and prayer. i think the two are intimately entwined.

- this morning i read many things i wrote a year, more than a year ago, the thoughts then, the lessons learnt. not the first time i've reread them, but somehow today i remembered what it was like writing them then, remembered the feelings that accompanied the words.

- and now, more lessons i think are coming; waiting, and patience, and trust. intimately entwined, again. waiting, waiting on Him whose timing is perfect; patience, patience with myself, i who tend to bam bam bam, checklists cleared, okay God, hi i'm ready, but clearly my God is not a respector of checklists and i will live day by day till He says, 'hi, you're ready'. it's okay.

- i think 2010's been such a liminal year, and will continue to be. much about this phase excites me (:

- poetic justice, in a slice of infinity. makes me want to sign up for any bgst/sbc courses on isaiah.

- currently: glad that the God of the Story is also the God of the mad fellas. i can think of two such, one overthinking and the other hopping around, but both seeking His direction and will- which gives me hope that for all the false starts and glorified messes, i'm going to learn things.

- to round off the dream: before i made it to camp, an attempted terrorist cart bomb ran into me and both of us into a high-security lab corridor off the wall of the mrt. i jumped off the cart and one of the scientists risked her life to unlock her lab door and pull me in, before the bomb exploded and the corridor shook. the girl terrorist died strangely, clearly, her frame still intact in the vibrations but her flesh made violet-ray for all to see through.

meme (:

2010-08-03T21:18:00.004+08:00

qh, if you still drop by here this is the due citation thingy k, soon enough i'll drop you an email explaining that i've been away, got sick, lost weight, and only recently started visiting old word-places again. love, rach.

1) What's the connection between you and the last person that called you?
we share parents

2) Do you ever turn your cell phone off?
i don't know how to turn it off

3) What happened at 10.00am today?
people laughed, people cried, people died. someone was having lectures at paya lebar airbase also, possibly.

4) When did you last cry?
maybe china? on bus leaving jiu zhai gou; that was in june.

5) What is your favorite thing to eat with peanut butter?
the only times i eat peanut butter is at strange camp games where they think pairing apples and peanut butter is really funny and make you eat it and you do because you want to be a sport for the people in your group; being relational makes you crazy sometimes.

6) What do you want in your life right now?
ooh, many things

7) Do you carry an umbrella when it rains, or just put up your hood?
http://doingthekiwi.wordpress.com/2009/11/21/peace-on-earthgood-will/

8) What's your favorite thing to have on your bed?
my down feather bolster that daddy gave me :)

9) What bottom are you wearing now?
pink boxer shorts with hearts all over it and a giant 86 emblazoned on the bottom left corner with PINKO in neon pink. oh, and it's brown bordered. i have girlfriends who like my shorts, punk.

10) What's the nicest text in your inbox say?
1 445 msgs in there, shan't play favourites.

11) Do you tend to make a relationship complicated?
it gets complicated when any party doesn't want to stick around and work out the nasty bits, i think. but i'm getting sleepy, and not much up for thinking anymore.

12) Are you wearing anything you borrowed from someone?
nah

13) What was the last movie you caught?
Avatar. Plans for Inception and Despicable Me have been falling through quite spectecularly.

14) What are you proud of?
many things. the prettiness of sunlight falling on a field, the incredible blue of an afternoon sky, the delicate earrings my mommy bought me. i'm proud of God and His works like a daughter takes pride in her father, and gladly show the world evidence of my mother's love.

15) What does the oldest text message in your inbox say?
from ohjiamin, back in late june:
'Hi sweetie:) heard you are sick too, get well soon!<:'

16) What was the last song you sang out loud?
i need Thee every hour; family devotions (:

17) Do you have any nicknames? What are they?
i seem to collect monikers and labels like a stickerbook gets stickers, in other words, many sorts in many manners. i shall blatently ignore the second question on the grounds that it's one question per number, no 17 part one and 17 part two.

18) Who was your last message from?
hannah

19) What time did you go to bed last night?
3

20) Are you currently happy?
i will be when i've finished this.

21) Who gives you best advice?
no favourites

22) Do you eat whipped cream straight from the can?
i don't eat whipped cream.

23) Who did you talk on phone last night?
if it was after 2330hrs, does it count as last night?

24) Is anything bugging you right now?
trying to finish this quiz; i've been rolling the questions up and down a few times now.

25) What/Who was the last thing/person to make you laugh?
shermaine, i think, while we were planning our play-offs thing haha.

26) Do you wear toe socks?
nah

27) Who was the last person you missed a call from?
ref 1)

28) Have you ever had your heart broken?
-and crushed, bruised, lifted, healed, sheltered, nutured, forgiven, restored. loved.

29) What annoys you most in a person?
disrespect, i think.

30) Do you have a crush on anyone?
you earn the right to an answer if you ask me for valid reasons

31) Do you love your life?
yea

32) What is the colour of your room?
my walls are mostly white, my bedsheet is tribal. my rug is orange, is pink, is brown. my dresses are out. a bright purple flower, a gift from commencement, brightens a corner. i have a light brown bear, a blue crab, a green water bottle. a marks and spencer cereal box sits pretty on said dark red-based bed. i lie on my black bean bag and tell you these things, these colours.

33) Would you kill someone you hate for a billion dollars?
wow that's a pretty scary question. i hope not.

34) Do you believe in the saying "talk is cheap"?
i think that's quite an unaesthetic way of putting it, but the principle behind it, somewhat inclined to agree i suppose

35) Who was the last person to lay in your bed?
ref 1)

36) Who was the last person to hug you?
xuan xuan the baby cousin :)

37) Did anyone see the last person you kissed?
hneh? the semantics of this question are not worth considering. for the record it's abel, the babyier cousin.

38) Do you have a life?
a few hours ago someone told me i'm 'cool and happening and alive'. there you go.

39) Have you ever thought someone died, when they really didn't?
yea. i probably can't name anyone because i think they died again.

40) What is the reason behind your profile song?
what profile song?

41) Who was the last person you saw in your dream?
assuming i can remember the dream...

42) Last time you smiled?
who on earth thought of this question??

43) Have you changed this year?
yea

44) What are you listening to right now?
橄欖樹

like, i really am.

45) Are you talking to someone when you doing this?
nah

46) Do you walk with your eyes open or closed?
Open, unless i'm in china walking the streets of beijing and you tell me, 'let's play a game, let's walk with our eyes closed and see how far we go'. then i would trust you and walk with my eyes closed.

47) Is there a quote you live by?
nah

49) Have you ever played an instrument?
yea

50) What was the worst idea you've had in week?
i can think of a few i've done in my life, but i've been pretty tame these few weeks, or the last week, whichever time frame i'm being asked about.

51) What were you doing last night at 11.00pm?
i'm pretty sure i was washing my hair.

52) Are you happy with your love life right now?
define love

53) What song describes your love life?
define life

54) Does the person know that you like him/her?
define know

55) Who always make you laughs?
i've been looking at this question; i have to say its grammar scores a perfect record each time.

56) Do you speak languages other than English?
yea

57) Are you blond?
if my hair's black, i couldn't be blond right?

(haha)

58) What is your middle name?
some might say peachy (:

59) What are you doing tomorrow?
subject to thrilling possibilities

60) What do you think you are like?
i plead sleepiness

61) Who will you choose to die with?
maybe i'll opt to be buried with percy bear bear

62) Where have you been today?
to the moon and back.

63) What game do you play often?
pepsi cola one two three haha

64) Who are you missing right now?
i have a mongolia-shaped hole in my heart

65) If you've to choose between friends & love, who will you choose?
the question said If

66) What are you doing right now?
whipping up a soufflé, dancing to mozart's eine kleine nachtmusik, putting the finishing touches to my latest needlework.

well, eating a persimmon, actually.

67) Which primary school are(*were) you from?
you get to choose

68) Name 3 colours that you like.
i'm pretty cool with the spectrums that exist within the colour white

69) What emotion do you like to show?
the agreeable one

70) What is life to you?
Christ

2010-08-03T20:50:00.000+08:00

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

- C.S. Lewis

on reputation

2010-07-26T12:10:00.003+08:00

i've realised.
that it's different now. where in the past i genuinely wasn't bothered, played along even, these days it matters a bit more, so that when someone (<- this being a person whose regard matters) asks if the x label i've been given is true, i sigh a little inside.

it didn't use to matter. people i cared for knew me beyond the rumours, and never bothered with them. then one day i was told i couldn't be trusted because of label xyz, and it's never really been the same since.

i never want it to happen again. not that i can help it. if the other party is content with hearsay and so locks me in, that's merely a right exercised. no protests, game over. i could wish with all my heart you'd fought that bit more to exonerate me, or took the time to see that who i was is no longer who i am, but not everyone can make that distinction.

p/s i read this over and realised it sounds gloomy. i'm not gloomy! just thinking aloud, guess the subject's inherently kind of sad.

in limbo

2010-07-24T14:26:00.005+08:00

i don't know, i felt like changing the template. acts of impulse make for an interesting world. (:

in the spirit of spontaneity then, i proceed to make a few observations on Things That Have Been Changing Recently:

1. i am rarely on msn these days.
2. the thought of shopping is no longer accompanied by chimebells and floating flowers in the wind. (why? :/)
3. me.

so anyway, i came here to type a bit. i suppose it quietens me down somewhat. not that anyone senses it, because my restlessness is the inward sort; i am discomfortingly tranquil outside.

i borrowed six books on tuesday, and by night had finished 3. i have since finished the rest. i went to the cage last night, and remember it was green. i don't fall asleep much anymore, i have wrecked my body clock. i lie in bed and pretend to dream. my room's door is closed and there's tv playing outside.

but it's not all bad. one merely waits for time to kill itself, like a storm blowing out and going meekly home. energy in the meantime runs low; i need to learn to haul. heave and haul lesson 2; my previous mechanisms should be trashed. i need new ones.

i shall rouse myself in awhile more, in the meantime i nestle lower in my beanbag for the rest my body needs. and place the keyboard on my lap and type. i have no idea how to perform perfunctionarily for the evening function tonight; perhaps i shall- my mind's a blank. no worries; there's always chocolate like a medical drug. or i can always ungo. stash my chole dress and japanese four inch heels determinedly away in the dr. dolittle bag and pretend the world consists of only trees. not too difficult actually. watch the people walk me by because i've turned on the invisibility veneer.

~

am hungry again; i get hungry at the oddest times, like in bed knowing it's 2am when my stomach starts panging. i leave the darkness of my room to the fridge, eat fruits and throw the seeds out of the window. hopefully next year there will be four baby durian trees on the soil below my block. sometimes i eat cheese and do a little inward jitty. i like cheese. last night i wanted horfan gravy.

can you believe i signed in intending to write about submission? haha. i did, actually. last night during ag we covered colossians 3:18-4:1, which generated a good discussion albeit at the theoratical level. but you can't expect much when no one's actually married. all good.
we also talked about flaws; i read somewhere (i do know where) that we love the other hoping s/he is all that we are not, and not what we know we are. but how can that work? it cannot ever work. because of who we are, who i am, who you are.

so many times even who i am, who you are isn't enough because we're layers. we're uneven layers and blocks and glitter and scar tissue that's thick and fused uglily. how do you spell uglily?i have a feeling i spelt it wrong :) but mm yeah, loving not just past the layers, but loving even the layers. kind of like christine daae in leroux's novel.

we can always face it. i shall brave the evening. hoorah.

it's still about passion-

2010-07-20T09:29:00.002+08:00

but before that, chamber's argument on obedience has been pretty interesting too: http://utmost.org/the-submission-of-the-believer/ ; although it might be helpful to first read the previous day's : http://utmost.org/the-mystery-of-believing/.

so yes, naomi zacharias' writings on crazy christians, and the paragraph that was heatful-

Here, we might further discover that God not only encourages hospitality for the sake of the one who would receive it, but also for the sake of the world that sees it. In a recent article in The New York Times, Nicholas Kristof makes the observation that in certain countries where danger and instability are constant threats, "you often find that the only groups still operating are Doctors Without Borders and religious aid workers: crazy doctors and crazy Christians." He continues, "In the town of Rutshuru in war-ravaged Congo, I found starving children, raped widows, and shellshocked survivors. And there was a determined Catholic nun from Poland, serenely running a church clinic."

that God would let me be someone like that!

an exercise in metathought

2010-07-14T11:14:00.003+08:00

"I have always been fascinated by the history of ideas. Why do we think the way we do about particular subjects, and where do those thoughts come from? Nine times out of ten, the ideas we ruminate on today are recycled compilations from what was said long ago. As the writer of Ecclesiastes rightly attested, "That which has been is that which will be, and that which has been done is that which will be done. So, there is nothing new under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:9). Nevertheless, not many of us take the time to trace the "genealogy" of many of our ideas. Doing so reveals the historic origins to the ways in which we think and view the world today.

Recently, I began one of these genealogical journeys through the historical period known as the Enlightenment. Most scholars agree that the Enlightenment or "Age of Reason" began in the early seventeenth century with the writings and work of Francis Bacon and ended with the publication of Immanuel Kant's Critique of Pure Reason.(1) The great "idea" of the Enlightenment was that human reason, human autonomy, and human progress would lead to ever-expanding knowledge about the created order and ever-expanding ways in which to exercise dominion over creation. Fueled by scientific and philosophical discoveries made by Copernicus, Galileo, Isaac Newton, and Rene Descartes, the view of the world as the dominion of God's providence and rule from on high shifted to the god of the mind, where reason could discover all that was necessary to advance humanity toward its highest destiny.

While we can certainly hear echoes of these ideas in our world today, I was particularly interested to see if there were other ways in which we have assumed principles of the Enlightenment religion without batting an eyelash. As a result of the quantification and methodology shifts in the scientific realm of the Enlightenment, theologians came to view religion in the same way: as something that could be quantified, categorized, and proven by the power of reason. As a result, revelation came to be understood as simply the function of human reason. Natural religion, or deism, what came to be the orthodoxy of the day, began to subsume all of the supernatural elements of faith since they were "unprovable" by the Enlightenment methods of inquiry. Theologians wanted to reduce and quantify religion to its most basic elements, which they believed to be universal and therefore reasonable.(2) The Christian faith became reduced to a bare minimum of dogma: the existence of God, the immortality of the soul, and postmortem retribution for sin and blessing for virtue. These were all that were left of pre-Enlightenment faith. All claims to the supernatural or to revelation were seen as unnecessary in a world where the Creator had endowed human beings with enough reason to discern what was important simply by looking at the great book of nature. The autonomous, rational human became the arbiter of truth and knowledge, and that was enough.

Inherent in this Enlightenment mindset, and common in our day as well, is the assumption that knowledge is good, certain, and objective. We often uncritically accept this Enlightenment idea as we look at Christian faith today, and we leave little room for ways of knowing that go beyond the rational or the scientific. As Blaise Pascal once said, "The heart has its reasons which reason cannot know."(3) For the Christian, such Enlightenment assumption are problematic, for we acknowledge that the fall of humanity impacted the whole self—including the mind.

Without jettisoning intellectual rigor and study, or succumbing to a faith without content, the Christian must make room for the concept of "mystery" and be cautious about assuming an Enlightenment way of viewing knowledge and truth. Sometimes we simply do not know. Our minds are limited and God is infinite. We must reject the hubris of Enlightenment optimism and its positing the endless, upward progress of human rationality to attain to omniscience. Moreover, no faith can be reduced to a set of fixed doctrines, even while it surely contains them. And for the Christian, rather, we must acknowledge "that the fundamental reality of God transcends human rationality" and "the heart of being a Christian is a personal encounter with God in Christ, who shapes us and molds us."(3) We come to know in and through personal encounter—both with God and with God's people in community—and we must reject the notion that we are ultimately and only autonomous, thinking selves. We are reminded by the apostle John that Truth is ultimately and completely revealed in a person—"The Word (logos) became flesh and dwelt among us"—and it is as a result of this person that we come to know anything that is worth knowing at all."

Margaret Manning is a member of the speaking and writing team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Seattle, Washington.

(1) Stanley Grenz and Roger Olsen, 20th Century Theology (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1992), 16.

(2) Grenz and Olsen, 23.

(3) Cited in Stanley Grenz, A Primer on Postmodernism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996), 166.

in Today's Slice (rzim)

2010-07-09T09:46:00.001+08:00

"Where the Flying Spaghetti Monster attempts to shake belief and dissuade certainty, it holds no power as an analogy for belief in God because it misses the very heart of why so many people intuitively believe. This was illustrated recently in a debate between Richard Dawkins and Christian mathematician John Lennox. Dawkins referenced the illustration of a person walking through a forest and finding a beautiful garden. He asked, "Isn't it enough to appreciate the beauty of the garden without having to believe in invisible fairies hiding behind the flowers?" Lennox's reply demonstrated the fallacy in this analogy. He said, "Of course you wouldn't have to believe in fairies in the garden, but you would assume there was a gardener, wouldn't you?" You would believe in a gardener even without seeing him or her because it is the only way to make sense of a garden. Otherwise, how would you distinguish between the garden and the rest of the forest you were walking through? A garden is only a garden if it was planted and cared for on purpose. The God of the Bible is not comparable to any of the funny invisible internet deities, but He is quite like the gardener. He makes sense of the world and He assures us that we are not here by accident, but that we were created on purpose and for a purpose."

i want to tell the unstoppable story

2010-07-05T10:27:00.001+08:00

"You can't stop stories being told," Dr. Parnassus tells his relentless foe with religious assurance in The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. The world of belief-systems and worldviews is indeed a complicated playground of stories, storytellers, and allegiances—and this is one film which certainly attests to that complicated dance. What makes the interplay of story most complicated is perhaps what is often our inability to perceive these interacting powers in the first place. That which permeates our surroundings, subconsciously molds our understanding, and continuously informs our vision of reality, is not always easy to articulate. The dominate culture shapes our world in ways we seldom even realize, and often cannot realize, until something outside of our culture comes along and introduces us, and the scales fall from our eyes.

Further complicating the great arena of narratives is the fact that we often do not even recognize certain systems for the metanarratives that they are, or else we grossly underestimate the story's power. Whatever versions of the story we utilize to understand human history—atheism, capitalism, pluralism, consumerism—their roots run very deep in the human soul. This is why Bishop Kenneth Carder can refer to the global market economy as a "dominant god," or consumerism, economism, and nationalism as religions.(1) These deeply rooted ideologies are challenged only when a different ideology comes knocking, when a different faith-system comes along and upsets the system that powerfully orders our worlds.

This is perhaps one reason that Christian scripture calls again and again to remember the story, to tell of the acts of God in history, and to bear in mind the one who is near. For into this world of belief-systems and worldviews, God tells the story of creation and the pursuit of its redemption, and then Christ comes and proclaims a kingdom entirely other. The narrative we discover introduces us not only to a new world but a world that jarringly shows us our own.
The signs and scenes of leading to the crucifixion alone challenge many of our cultural norms, turning upside down ideas of authority, power, and glory, presenting us a kingdom that reverses everything we know. What kind of a king crouches down to his subjects to wash their feet? What kind of a leader tells those under him that the way to the top requires a dedication to the bottom? What kind of meal promises to lift us to another kingdom where we are ushered into the presence of the host and then asked to taste him? Yet this is the story he told and Christians tell. "And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, 'This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me'" (Luke 22:19). Not long after their meal, his physical body was broken, too.

The story of the Christian is one that remembers the last moments of a rabbi and his disciples—a meal shared, a lamb revealed, feet washed by one who claimed to be both king and servant. It is a story that invites its hearers into a kingdom entirely different than the many stories before them, connecting them with a God who somehow reigns within a realm that is both here and now, and also approaching. In the Lord's Supper, Christians are literally "taking in" this kingdom, which unites followers with Christ in such a way that helps us to live as he lived: "in" but not "of" the world of stories.

When the apostle Paul called early followers of Christ not to be conformed to this world but to be transformed by the renewing of their minds so that they might discern what is the will of God—"what is good and acceptable and perfect," he was reminding them that there are overlapping and contradicting stories all around them, but that it is the story of God that must be their orienting narrative (Romans 12:2). In other words, Christians are not left the option of living unaware of all the subconscious ways in which we are formed by the world of stories. Living into the kingdom of God means recognizing the power of God's story beside every competing narrative—not necessarily shutting each one out, but interpreting every other story through the Story. Living further into the story of God’s reign, the Christian's very life, like that of Christ's, shows the world the subversive power of a narrative that moves far beyond the systems of "postmodernism," "consumerism," and "nationalism."

Whether Christian, atheist, or Hindu, no one can avoid being in the world. We cannot escape the world's formative stories, nor should we want to escape the particular place where we have been planted.(3) Yet, nor do we want it to become so much our home that we cannot see all the dust on the windows or feel the draft of a roofless shelter. For the Christian, the more we find ourselves living into a different kingdom, a world breathed by the Father, proclaimed by Christ, and revealed by the Spirit, the unchallenged, unseen storylines of the world come sharply into focus. And the more we taste and see of the kingdom of God, the more we taste and see of the kingdom of earth as well. Like Paul, at times something like scales fall from our eyes and the Spirit compels us to get up and re-experience our baptisms, going further into the kingdom, where our voices regain strength in telling the unstoppable story.(4)

Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

(1) Kenneth Carder, "Market and Mission: Competing Visions for Transforming Ministry," Lecture, Duke Divinity School, Oct. 16, 2001, 1.

(2) Lesslie Newbigin, The Open Secret: An Introduction to the Theology of Mission (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 1995), 95.

(3) Jesus himself prayed, "My prayer is not that you take them out of the world, but I ask that you protect them from the evil one" (John 17:15).

(4) "And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength" (Acts 9:18-19).

just because all this kingdom talk reminds me of MEET/g-cube

2010-07-03T12:42:00.002+08:00

"The kingdom of God is for the gullible," I read recently. "You enter by putting an end to all your questions."

It's true that Jesus moved all over Judea pronouncing the reign of God and the kingdom of heaven as if it were a notion he wanted the simplest soul to get his mind around. But simplicity was not what hearers walked away with. With great disparity, he made it clear that this kingdom was approaching, that it was here, that it was among us, that we needed to enter it, that we need to wait for it, that we desperately need the one who reigns within it. The tension within so many different and dynamic realities turned the clarity of each individual picture into a great and ambiguous portrait. He insisted, the kingdom "has come near you" (Luke 10:9). Yet he prayed, "Thy kingdom come" (Matthew 6:10). Paul, too, described the placement of believers in the kingdom as something established: "God has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son" (Colossians 1:13). While the writer of Hebrews described the kingdom as an ongoing gift we must accept: "Since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us therefore give thanks" (Hebrew 14:28). To make matters all the more complex, Jesus also assigned the kingdom imagery such as a mustard seed, a treasure in a field, and a great banquet, among others.

Contrary to putting an end to one's questions, the kingdom of God incites inquiry all the more. What is the nature of this kingdom? Can it be all of these things? Who is this messenger? And what kind of proclamation requires the herald to pour out his very life to tell it? Whatever this kingdom is, it unmistakably introduces to a world far different from the one around us, one we cannot quite get our minds around, with tensions and dynamisms reminiscent of the promise of God to answer our cries "with great and unsearchable things you do not know" (Jeremiah 33:3). It is a kingdom that tells a story grand enough to master the metanarratives which otherwise compel us into thoughtless, gullible obedience. It is a kingdom with a king whose very authority exposes our idols as wood and reforms our numbed minds with great and surprising reversals of reality.

In this kingdom Jesus proclaims we are shown a God who opens the eyes of the blind and raises the dead, who claims the last will be the first, and the servant is the greatest. But his proclamations did not cease with mere easy words. Jesus put these claims into action, placing this kingdom before us in such a way that forbids us to see any of it as mere religion, abstraction, gullibility, or sentimentality:

"Then the whole assembly rose and led Jesus off to Pilate. And they began to accuse him, saying, 'We have found this man subverting our nation. He opposes payment of taxes to Caesar and claims to be Christ, a king.'

So Pilate asked Jesus, 'Are you the king of the Jews?'

'Yes, it is as you say,' Jesus replied.

Then Pilate announced to the chief priests and the crowd, 'I find no basis for a charge against this man.'

But they insisted, 'He stirs up the people all over Judeaby his teaching. He started in Galilee and has come all the way here...' So with loud shouts they insistently demanded that he be crucified, and their shouts prevailed" (Luke 23:1-23, emphasis the writer's).

The way of proclamation led to the way of the passion, the path of commotion to the path of accusation, a road strewn with signs of the authority of another kingdom to a road that demanded death and mocked a king. And yet this man is still subverting nations. The kingdom he proclaimed in life and in death continues to unravel our own.

In this world of gullibility, crafted ignorance, and much distraction, there sounds a clarion call for a new means of perception. Living somewhere between this foreign kingdom of God's reign and the familiar kingdom of earth, some of us never fully see or live in either. Still others somehow find themselves moved beyond the familiar borders of the world they know, to the very threshold of the kingdom of God where, longing to see in fullness and relishing here and now, they discover the one who reigns.

Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

rziming from vietnam, hi with a happy heart

2010-06-29T09:15:00.001+08:00

"Prophecy is the voice that God has lent to the silent agony," writes Abraham Heschel, "a voice to the plundered poor, to the profaned riches of the world. It is a form of living, a crossing point of God and man. God is raging in the words of the prophet."

Abraham Heschel, The Prophets (New York: Harper Collins, 2001), 5-6.

RZIM

2010-05-28T11:05:00.002+08:00

hii, related to what i said at fissions, goodbye all. i was back from malaysia, and by tomorrow i'd have left for china. was back in between for a week, and it was very good. i must say leaving my plans open (and possibly even in His hands)- asking the day to be for Him- looking back upon this week, He has truly answered, and i am in His peace. yay!

i bid you farewell for here and now, and till then, i charge you with the words of chamber-

Begin to know Him now, and never finish.

2010-05-27T09:49:00.002+08:00

1) i'm really amazed at how chambers could have written a devotional based on just one verse. talk about reflection.

2) "Now when I, who am asking about this, love anything, there are three things present: I myself, what I love, and love itself. For I cannot love love unless I love a lover; for there is no love where nothing is loved. So there are three things: the lover, the loved and the love."
- Augustine, in talking about the nature of the trinity. and its implications on the community, of course.

3) "'You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve,' said Aslan. 'And that is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor in earth.'" ... Indeed, what the leprous man recognized in Christ was enough to bring him to his feet in worship. And it is this image that continues to erect the heads of the poorest beggars and bow the shoulders of the greatest emperors. It was the image of Christ that made its way into the insecurities of some in my youth group. Though there was nothing in his appearance that we should desire him, Jesus lived as one touched by another kingdom, obedient to the Father even unto death. In Christ, God supersedes every longing and pain, every sin and scar, with a face that won't go away. It is this image within us, this image we were made to reflect. Imago Dei is the hopeful commission to become more like the one we follow. It is the cry within us to be who we are: children made in the image of the Most High."
- RZIM

revel in the wind

2010-05-24T10:03:00.001+08:00

The Spirit is like the wind... In this way, Pentecost serves as a reminder that the Spirit blows through all of our categories and continues to do the unexpected. We may think we have grasped the wind, only to find that is has blown in a different direction. In the face of such a wonderful mystery, we can either shield ourselves from its power, or revel in the wind that eludes our grasp.

Regardless, the Spirit at Pentecost is blowing beyond our "Jerusalem" to the most remote parts of the earth. May we be carried along by this wind.

Margaret Manning, RZIM.

fear and love

2010-05-22T12:20:00.002+08:00

1. 'In this world of potential losses, deep cynicisms, and fearful circumstances, might we find this perfect love in such a way that casts out our fears and draws us even nearer.'

2. 'As Yoda observes, true fearlessness would be attainable only through complete detachment to everything and everyone around us. If we loved nothing at all, we would have nothing to fear, but so we would be paralyzed from life in an entirely different way.'

3. What she said.

from proverbs 3

2010-05-14T11:55:00.001+08:00

3 Let love and faithfulness never leave you;
bind them around your neck,
write them on the tablet of your heart.

to love it like You do

2010-05-11T11:04:00.003+08:00

went for my first vcf agm last night; though (very very very) long, i don't regret going. in fact it makes me regret i never went before.

is it too late that i have come to love student ministry? this has been the question on my heart for awhile now.

The Christian is a person of the Book

2010-05-10T10:11:00.001+08:00

"Like ethics, Christian apologetics is a daily activity writ large upon the life of Christians and Christian communities whether they realize it or not. The world hears clearly their message with or without words. For they go about life confessing, commending, defending, and living the gospel, showing the world an ethic and a religion whether they speak of these things or not. Both disciplines are thus inherently Christian activities, disciplines that must take seriously the responsibility the identity imparts. The Christian is a person of the Book, commanded to remember the movement of God in history, the nearness of the Spirit today, and the promise of Christ's return in every word he speaks, in every thing she does.

In the midst of this great reality, the Christian need not live as one who holds every answer, but as one who lives with the confidence that is ours through Christ before God, as we grow further into our conversions and the abundant life Christ describes. In this, both the world and the Church is benefited when believers learn to see their own conversions as a process, salvation as more than a ticket to heaven, and faith as something deeper than sheer preference or unquestionable certainty—for this will likewise help us see that reaching our neighbors is a lifelong activity. In the meantime, John Stackhouse argues that it is imperative for the apologist and the ethicist to take with her the right questions.(2) Instead of evangelicalism's favorite foci—Is he saved? Does she have a personal relationship with Christ? Or, what must I do to convert them?—a far better question was entertained by the one the believer follows: Who shall I say is my neighbor? At this question Jesus recounted a story that left everyone asking appropriately, If the world is filled with my neighbors, how then shall I live?"

Carattini

Faith is not some weak and pitiful emotion, but strong and vigourous confidence built upon the fact that God is holy love

2010-05-08T12:49:00.004+08:00

He goes on stretching until His purpose is in sight, and then He lets the arrow fly. (Chambers)

I like that metaphor. Arrows are mighty weapons, great and solid. a strong arm only can take up the bow and arrow, and strain fully that the arrow may fly. the arrow is deadly and sure and will fly true to the archer's intention. my God's intention is stern and beautiful, His arm more powerful, His mark more true and satisfying than mine could ever hope to be.

God grant me the perseverence to be faithful to Him.

'The Faith to Persevere'.

as promised

2010-05-07T11:28:00.002+08:00

dr tan's talk notes-

'farmers and framers'
psalm 141

1. psalm 141, consisting of traditional and untraditional aspect of Jewish prayer.
on framing- David brackets his day with prayer. and pleads for them to be fragrant. for help- because he knows they are not (fragrant). dr tan- if your prayer was fragrant, you'd know it and you wouldn't have to ask for help. but david knew what his was, so he asked.
thus- think of a framework of prayer; frame your day with prayer.

corner joints- David's prayer had 4 corner joints that were the right-angles to his framework:
a) guard over me
b) have righteous men strike me
c) pray against evil
d) safety from snares

b) was untraditional because David was king, and there are not many kings who would pray for righteous men to strike them if they were wrong. often, kings were supported, not dissented. but for David it was a personal prayer. David... lost his best friend Jonathan in battle. he had lost him, and so asked for righteous friendship in his life.
dr tan- how many of you have three or four friends you can call at anytime of the day or night, anywhere in the world you are, and say to them, look, i'm thinking of doing this this this, and they will tell you truthfully, this is inconsistent with who you are, with your beliefs? relationships have to be invested in. they don't just appear. you have to work for them, make sacrifices. for transition from school to work to promotion etc, ask God for friends. for three or four whom you can call up and say i want to do x, and they will tell you to your face this is inconsistent with who you are, with your beliefs and what you stand for.
you know how many men my age commit suicide? and why?
do you have someoneo in your life that could affirm as well as rebuke you?

Proverbs 27:5-6 (King James Version)
Open rebuke is better than secret love.
Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful.

2. Strength can be a weakness- unless you lay it on God's hand.
dr tan- you know when i married my wife, you know why she married me? because i read book. i don't drink don't smoke don't club, i read book. so she married me. but when we got married, she would come up to me and say, 'want to go out?' i say, 'i reading book'. she say, 'want to go movie?', i say, 'i reading book'. finally she say, 'you read so much, why get married?'. i say, 'you married me because i read book right?'

strength must be given to God.
Godly, iron sharpens iron.- through the fellowship of believers.
Why lives mess up- because you think, your business your business, my business my business.
How are you going to stand before God and account for your choices?

3. [moving on to three words he has on a whiteboard: truth, bondage, love]
Why proclaim truth?
unless it's to show love. all else must be refined.

[on interdenominations and their theological bickerings]
doctrine is important. it is so important it must change our lives. you go check the carpark. whether it's fundamental or charismatic, all same car. you check the labels on the windscreen. all same country clubs.

[lives of bondage]
of gambling. of cheating.
dr tan-i tell you a story. once i went to my fruit-seller in yunan, i told him, 'you are a very bad guy. just because i am a foreigner you cheat me.' he said, 'no, no. not true. i cheat everyone!'. [laughter] then he said, to you it is $.50. what is 50cents to you? nothing. but to me it is a lot. and you see how he rationalises.
of gambling. of anger. of fruit-selling cheating.
and yet we all do it too. we rationalise. our bondages. in our own lives. in daily surrender- to passivity. that we lose our fire. and go under bondage.

+ the strength in our youths- it's not to be better than the local pastor. or anything. the strength is to be used to empower encourage the local pastor. or anyone.
dr tan- i know singaporeans like to be good and better. efficient huh. but when you go on mission trips, do you give the message because you're better educated than the local pastor? no. if anything, you help him to learn.

4. Q&A
[on tent-making vs. church supporting]
:driver analogy
- last time in yunan being the governer's driver was a profession. the governer himself didn't know how to drive. so the driver was powerful. likened to the clergyman or evangelical of the old days.
- now, everyone drives. but it's still a skill, it's a necessity.

: we're all drivers.
-some called to full time... formula 1 drivers, the old day chauffers // clergymen, evangelicals
-but we're all drivers.

~

if you still have stamina :)
- Sibling Rivalry in the House of Faith

2010-05-01T08:19:00.002+08:00

1) went for dr tan lai yong's talk last night; twas good and i shall put what i have of it up in a bit.

2) What Has Athens to Do With Jerusalem?

2010-04-28T20:02:00.002+08:00

i'm reading 'the day after tomorrow' now. it was interesting enough in the afternoon, but wears its welcome out as the day wears out into night. i prefer other genres at night. but mm on a short note, i can see why it made bestseller list- it's thick. which means it spans london, france and germany. also uses the old conspiracy theory. and has like a million people that get introduced and killed every so often. you know.

wait till the exams end! then i will prowl around the library and carry off books to my hearts content, like a hunter bringing home his spoil.

hm an interesting take on genesis 22!

2010-04-27T10:08:00.002+08:00

The Supreme Climb

Take now your son . . . and offer him . . . as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you —Genesis 22:2

A person’s character determines how he interprets God’s will (see Psalm 18:25-26 ). Abraham interpreted God’s command to mean that he had to kill his son, and he could only leave this traditional belief behind through the pain of a tremendous ordeal. God could purify his faith in no other way. If we obey what God says according to our sincere belief, God will break us from those traditional beliefs that misrepresent Him. There are many such beliefs which must be removed-for example, that God removes a child because his mother loves him too much. That is the devil’s lie and a travesty on the true nature of God! If the devil can hinder us from taking the supreme climb and getting rid of our wrong traditional beliefs about God, he will do so. But if we will stay true to God, God will take us through an ordeal that will serve to bring us into a better knowledge of Himself.

The great lesson to be learned from Abraham’s faith in God is that he was prepared to do anything for God. He was there to obey God, no matter what contrary belief of his might be violated by his obedience. Abraham was not devoted to his own convictions or else he would have slain Isaac and said that the voice of the angel was actually the voice of the devil. That is the attitude of a fanatic. If you will remain true to God, God will lead you directly through every barrier and right into the inner chamber of the knowledge of Himself. But you must always be willing to come to the point of giving up your own convictions and traditional beliefs. Don’t ask God to test you. Never declare as Peter did that you are willing to do anything, even “to go . . . both to prison and to death” ( Luke 22:33 ). Abraham did not make any such statement— he simply remained true to God, and God purified his faith.

______

on another note, rzim writes a little on death:
http://www.rzim.org/usa/usfv/tabid/436/articleid/10564/cbmoduleid/1133/default.aspx

rzim

2010-04-20T11:47:00.006+08:00

-Is there perhaps a distinctively Christian alternative to the atmosphere of fear that is so pervasive and contagious?

i think so. and it looks needful that i find one, or at least work something out. hearing my freshly graduated friends discuss financial management is a hint, i think, of what is to come.

i'm the kind of person who would dump my money in the bank and take it out when needed. but i doubt the world's kind enough to let me off like that, and in any case i'm going to have quite a hefty debt to clear once uni's over.
but that was a digression; uni debts are to be faced and not mused about. so yes. freshly graduated friends who discuss financial management while i sit there and wonder why can't it be simpler.

money makes money, that's one point. the other would be that of insurance. i wonder what would happen if i don't get insurance. cuz i don't intend to.
i suppose there'll be "God" arguments for and against insurance; the human being is somewhat annoyingly desirous to be right, and unfortunately equipped with the intellect for doing so. why do you think arts majors can argue (read: smoke) on both sides of the coin equally convincingly, or gp students encouraged to give a 'balanced' answer. truth is what we make it to be; we'll always have a rationalisation that justifies our actions. insurance is a moot point then.
so yes, while i haven't been exposed to the pressures and demands of the adult society that requires us to be such-and-such (no wonder people instantly age when they enter the workforce), from what i see i don't like it.

i mean, isn't it enough to work out God's kingdom here on earth already, without having to think of oneself? thinking about poverty, selfishness and creation abuse would take up quite a bit of effort already, wouldn't it. but okay, i might be wrong. maybe those adults out there have already worked out and reconciled the fallenness of the world and are seeking to make the kingdom change. phooey to you, i'm not there yet.

it's just. let's not put our cares higher above God's, alright. look, matthew says it fine enough: Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all these shall be added unto you.

The parable of the talent asks us to see the power and control we allow to masquerade as security and so convince ourselves that we are living wisely, even morally upright, when we are really living in fear. These fears move us to withdraw from the very kingdom Jesus calls us to join and join with him in announcing. Instead of moving further up and farther into the kingdom he proclaimed among us, we dig for our souls a place in the outer darkness.

There is indeed an alternative, but it is neither safe nor easy. It involves laying down our fears to follow Christ with faith’s daring; it involves opening our lives to a world that scares us, and rejecting the anxiety of a world convinced the sky is falling. The Christian alternative to a culture of fear is a kingdom of hospitality and abundance, vulnerability and generosity, love and self-sacrifice—the very kingdom Christ shaped with his living and dying, and invites us to do the same.

indevincible

2010-04-15T09:52:00.002+08:00

today chambers made me laugh. i must say it's the first time he's ever done that. but ah, his words speak to my heart-thoughts as well:

Inner Invincibility

Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me . . . —Matthew 11:29

Whom the Lord loves He chastens . . .” ( Hebrews 12:6 ). How petty our complaining is! Our Lord begins to bring us to the point where we can have fellowship with Him, only to hear us moan and groan, saying, “Oh Lord, just let me be like other people!” Jesus is asking us to get beside Him and take one end of the yoke, so that we can pull together. That’s why Jesus says to us, “My yoke is easy and My burden is light” ( Matthew 11:30 ). Are you closely identified with the Lord Jesus like that? If so, you will thank God when you feel the pressure of His hand upon you.

“. . . to those who have no might He increases strength” (Isaiah 40:29 ). God comes and takes us out of our emotionalism, and then our complaining turns into a hymn of praise. The only way to know the strength of God is to take the yoke of Jesus upon us and to learn from Him.

“. . . the joy of the Lord is your strength” ( Nehemiah 8:10 ). Where do the saints get their joy? If we did not know some Christians well, we might think from just observing them that they have no burdens at all to bear. But we must lift the veil from our eyes. The fact that the peace, light, and joy of God is in them is proof that a burden is there as well. The burden that God places on us squeezes the grapes in our lives and produces the wine, but most of us see only the wine and not the burden. No power on earth or in hell can conquer the Spirit of God living within the human spirit; it creates an inner invincibility.

If your life is producing only a whine, instead of the wine, then ruthlessly kick it out. It is definitely a crime for a Christian to be weak in God’s strength.

The Living Word

2010-04-10T12:21:00.004+08:00

7 The law of the LORD is perfect,
reviving the soul.
The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.

I've been looking at Psalm 19 for some months now, and while I easily affirm the beginning and its end, to be honest each time i hit the middlish bit about the law and statutes- at least 6 descriptions of them- i'd skim, wondering many times how someone could praise rules so effusively.

8 The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.

It struck me as strange, because I tend to think of regulations as limiting, definitely a dragging down of a free spirit. whoah/we're halfway there/whoahhh/livin' on a prayer, etc and that sounds more exciting than

9 The fear of the LORD is pure,
enduring forever.
The ordinances of the LORD are sure
and altogether righteous.

Just being honest here. But yeah, this morning I sit here and type because I'm finally closer to the side of the psalmist- this morning I agree with him.

'It's in the relief of darkness that light is loved'. (relief in the sense of contrast.) something i realised this morning and suddenly i have gained that more understanding. it's only when face to face with darkness and the consequent fear that God's precepts and commandments get their true valuation- kind of like an inherited knight's armour: it's ungainly and awkward but when the time comes and the fight must be fought that the one inside finally understands the value of its weight.

so yes, now i can echo with the psalmist,

10 They are more precious than gold,
than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
than honey from the comb.

Amen.

one for Christ

2010-04-06T10:03:00.002+08:00

http://www.rzim.org/resources/read/asliceofinfinity/todaysslice.aspx

In a single weekend, Christians have just remembered the crucifixion of Jesus, his burial on Good Friday, the silence of Holy Saturday, and the terror and amazement of Easter Sunday. In a weekend, we were reminded how the disciples failed him miserably, falling asleep when he needed them most in prayer, denying ever knowing him as he was convicted for being himself, watching him die alone from a distance. In a weekend, Christians moved from recognizing ourselves in this list of failures to sensing the hopeful confusion of the disciples, the overwhelm of Thomas, and the timid longing of the women at the tomb. In a single weekend, we moved from complete despair to shocking hope, total darkness to surprising light, the finality of death to the last word of resurrection, from broken and sinful to restored and forgiven.

Dead People Walking,

Jill Carattini

2010-04-05T11:03:00.003+08:00

so the easter weekend is over.

easter's just about the most exhausting christian rememberance in our calender list, i would think. it continues to be the most intense, weightiest and most sombring event in my life. cosmically epic/epically cosmic doesn't come close to capturing the sense of the vastness of the message. death defeated and life without end.

i slept in today, and woke up late, recovering from the weekend.
thoughts about sanctuary and what it can mean, more time spent with the th&Oers, i have neither the exact name for nor decided about them, but it's always enjoyable (read: entertaining). and often i am left contemplative. mmm.

anyway yes, the church as more than just fellowship, as representative of the scene that will one day be in heaven, sanctuaries need to be sacred, and holy, and set apart. i do think there's a need for the sense of the sacred in our lives. and i'm not saying a community hall is unacceptable to God; i'm saying we need to work for the reverence and awe when we come into His sanctuary.

on another note: the musical was enjoyed, by me. as was trooping down to the flyer with gayle and listening to marcus + dinner/supper at popeyes after.

today i also remember the events of a year ago. reread the posts, relieved the nights, briefly, i couldn't do it again. God be with us all.

an unusually disjointed post

2010-04-02T20:57:00.007+08:00

okay within the past hour i've been looking at fashion runaway shows, amazing clothes and people photography so i'm in a bit of a mess now. plus i also have thoughts from conversation on way home with g that i want to put down, the two are going to be hard to weave together but we'll see what happens; i want to take a bath first.

__

back. hmm like all i can think of now is that i ought to own a red bikini, if i were in town now/near any <3surfshop, my bank account would be feeling a pinch greater than what i transferred over to g today, vietnam trip yay and yay.

and yes i know this is extremely different from the tone and subject content of the rest of the posts here, doesn't even go with the steady, dependable green gleam of the theme, meeps. sober up rach sober up. -pats face.

but i suppose it's all good still. p said during our last meeting that one's site shows one's true self; i thought about it then disagreed. it might show me more contemplative, more forthcoming, but it's not necessarily the most cohesive picture. i mean, i can imagine it being true for some people, that on their word sites they reveal themselves as they are but if this was the case for me then according to this year's posts i am as green and gloomy as my background. or as staid and certain as the content. hah. so not. nor, has this place always been for qt thoughts.

which brings me back to my red bikini. i shall file it away in a mental cabinate, to spring out the next time i go shopping in a mall. which has been since... year one/two of uni, i think. i don't shop much in organised buildings anymore. it takes too much energy to fight the boredom from predicability.

hmm i wonder what vietnam will be like, we're all such characters i wonder what will happen when we travel together. will the boys' plan of lazing and intoxicated stoning prove too heavy to budge, or will excitement prevail and win the day? i foresee myself character-interaction watching.

anyway i'm still full from the happenings of the day: feel like i gobbled up everything, the sights the sounds; i'm bloated now. i'm also very contented, sitting isolated in my room typing out head words.

speaking of which, recalling one of the sites i was at earlier this evening; quote from devil wears prada mm a show i partially watched at a gathering at his face's place i can't remember his name now, one of those gatherings i used to get invited unreasonably to, in the meaning of them social butterfly days, it gave me pause. i have a feeling devil wears prada is a pretty good show, i'd be happy if occasion gave rise to a watching of it one day. because i'm unfortunately not proactive like that. and i'm not saying like i'm proud of it.

maybe i should find myself a hobby. haha! okay after i put the full stop i thought the sentence sounded quite uncool. hobby is not an attractive word.

-

fortunately i have put my disclaimer, and need not make further excuse for jumping thoughts. come let's talk about a boy, in a detachedly rational way. so g was saying that there's suiting. and that there's holding back that she can see. she also said spunkiness, and spontaneity.
i thought a bit, and concede she might have a point. i would have done what was suggested in giordarno whilst the two of them were gone, if the dare had been pushed. why did we walk out in the end?

in any case, i don't know why i do. it's almost instinctive. let me indulge in a tv soap operaic moment here and say significantly that maybe he's one of those with whom it must be fully... or strangely.

.
ah i wanted to end there, nice and dramatic but i'm not feeling stupid enough for that tonight. and yeah, to have done so would have sounded like i meant it. i don't, and i don't want to give that impression. like, shooting off my mouth doesn't mean i shoot myself in the foot too. hmm i wanted to try one more, but forget it. i never want karma to bite me in the butt.

the core of what when stripped away

2010-03-15T09:05:00.002+08:00

"For the early persecuted church, the Rule of Faith, or regula fidei, was the essential message, the fixed gospel through which they saw the world. It was the foundation that set the Christian apart and often put them in danger: profession of one God, salvation in Christ, and the presence of the Holy Spirit. It was also the foundation on which they stood when all else was stripped away. In the life of a confessing Christian, the Rule of Faith was seen as the normative compendium, the communal account of the story that held the individual through daily trials and united them with the believing community. The Rule was not a rival of the Scriptures; on the contrary, it was the worldview that emerged from Scripture, but also the worldview with which they approached the Scriptures, their lives, communities, and afflictions.

In a world averse to rules and intent on independence, it may be all the more tempting to deem the regula fidei a relic—and hence an irrelevancy—of the early church. But to men and women persecuted in North Korea, the regula fidei, the very heart of the Story for which they suffer is the rule by which they live. To them we owe the startling reminder: we are not islands of spiritual autonomy, but pilgrims who think, live, and serve with the truth and power of a thoughtful chorus.

To be Christian is to follow God's Way in the world, a Way that compels us to move along with it. For some this will mean persecution, even martyrdom; for others it will mean laboring to avoid becoming at ease in Zion, moving to the beat of a drum that may take us where we don't want to go. But movement it will require: “As they led [Jesus] away, they seized a man, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming from the country, and they laid the cross on him, and made him carry it behind Jesus. Then they brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means the place of a skull)” (Luke 23:26, Mark 15:22). The regula fidei is the heart of a startling story, a story that turns the world on its head and empowers a different kingdom. And thus, it is something quite like the heart of God, which brings rhythm to a chaotic world and sweeps many up into its mission."

(Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries. )

on hot air balloons

2010-03-10T10:15:00.007+08:00

(source: http://www.crystalinks.com/hotairballoon.html)

God's caribeeners, not mine.

His hooks, not mine.

His sturdyness, His strength, His robustness.

His tolerance.

That will carry me through

storms, waves, winds

that attaches the envelope to the basket

That will not fail.

the GOD of transcendence

2010-03-09T10:25:00.003+08:00

The true problem is this: Is God an autonomous presence before you, like you before your friend, the bridegroom before the bride, the Son before the Father?… Can you meet God as a person on your road and prostrate yourself before Him as did Moses before the burning bush?… Can you experience his presence in the dark intimacy of the temple as did the prophets? In short, is God the God of transcendence, and thus the God of prayer, the God of what lies beyond things, or is He only the God of immanence, revealing Himself in the fruition of matter, in the dynamics of history, in the promise to free mankind?"

Carlo Carretto, The God Who Comes

the source of abundant joy

2010-03-08T08:12:00.001+08:00

as written by our familar friend-

"The underlying foundation of the Christian faith is the undeserved, limitless miracle of the love of God that was exhibited on the Cross of Calvary; a love that is not earned and can never be. Paul said this is the reason that "in all these things we are more than conquerors." We are super-victors with a joy that comes from experiencing the very things which look as if they are going to overwhelm us.

Huge waves that would frighten an ordinary swimmer produce a tremendous thrill for the surfer who has ridden them. Let’s apply that to our own circumstances. The things we try to avoid and fight against— tribulation, suffering, and persecution— are the very things that produce abundant joy in us. "We are more than conquerors through Him" "in all these things"; not in spite of them, but in the midst of them. A saint doesn’t know the joy of the Lord in spite of tribulation, but because of it. Paul said, "I am exceedingly joyful in all our tribulation" (2 Corinthians 7:4 ).

The undiminished radiance, which is the result of abundant joy, is not built on anything passing, but on the love of God that nothing can change. And the experiences of life, whether they are everyday events or terrifying ones, are powerless to "separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" ( Romans 8:39 ). "