Chinese New Year is suppose to be a time when everyone is happy, collecting angpaos and wishing one another joy and wealth. For myself however, having to smile and laugh, greet people and pretend that all is well when inside, when actually I am getting by minute by minute with mixed feelings and random thoughts, can be so tiring. Sometimes, the emotions can become so overwhelming that they are suppressed only by fears of shame and humiliation; that socially from every perspective, I am suppose to be tough, strong and unshakable.
In the quiet darkness, in the moments of my Quiet Time with my Lord, some of the greatest comfort comes to me from His Word. Phrases usually overshadowed, overlooked, and browsed over, with no meaning except during moments like this, can come like the soft gust of wind, lifting up a weary soul in his pain.
Luke 7:13
When the Lord saw her, His heart went out to her and He said, "Don't cry."
Don't cry. That's what He said. He hurts too when we hurt. And from where He stands, His hand is outstreched to lift us to our feet. The hand that heals. The hand that supports. The hand that cups our cheeks and wipes away our tears.
If I am to imitate Jesus, then I'm to bring these two words to the world. To both the rich and the poor, the strong and the weak, the beautiful and the ugly, the good and the bad. The powerful and the powerless, the healthy and the handicapped, the white and the black, both ends of the earth.
For those of you who are reading this post, and who are hurting deep inside, don't cry my friends, princes and princesses you are.
For those of you whom God has decided to fill your heart with joy this season, ask the Lord to show you those around you who hurt, and pass on the message.
Don't cry.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
How Beautiful Is My Wife?
I've been thinking about the remark that Obama made about his wife in the presence of all his guests after taking the oath as President of the United States during the celebratory dinner. If you didn't read about it, he said this:
"How beautiful is my wife?"
Pointing to his wife, those words made her the most celebrated woman in the world that night. The most beautiful, the most adored, the most envied, the most desired. I'm so going to do that when I become President one day. There is nothing more wonderful than introducing my wife that way. It makes her feel special and loved, it allows the crowd to know that my love for her is true and pure, and most of all, it becomes an opportunity to be a public thanksgiving to God for this wonderful partner that He has bestowed on me.
But more than just that, it is a reminder of God's own love for us. As God parades us through all creation, He lifts us up, dancing, smiling, holding us close, and announces with a voice more glorious than any sound in the universe, "How beautiful is my bride?"
Remember, He created nature first. The stars, the Earth, Paradise Eden, and the creatures of the sky and depths. He prepared the stage for us, like an infatuated lover preparing a surprise for his beloved. And during the very final touch, the creation of mankind, all eyes were focused on the opening of the blindfold that is bringing forth the epitome of creation, the apex of love, the core outcome of God's glory. Just like the unending applause and mad cheers that filled the dinner hall when Barack pointed to Michelle, the universe rejoiced a million times greater at the love that blossomed when mankind realized the extent of God's love.
Black, female, and not exactly physically attractive (marginalized in every sociological perspective except probably class and education), Michelle was the most beautiful woman that night. Likewise, lost, sinful and rebellious (impossible to deal with in every aspect of human nature), we are beautiful simply because we are loved by Someone far more beautiful than we can ever imagine. +)
"How beautiful is my wife?"
Pointing to his wife, those words made her the most celebrated woman in the world that night. The most beautiful, the most adored, the most envied, the most desired. I'm so going to do that when I become President one day. There is nothing more wonderful than introducing my wife that way. It makes her feel special and loved, it allows the crowd to know that my love for her is true and pure, and most of all, it becomes an opportunity to be a public thanksgiving to God for this wonderful partner that He has bestowed on me.
But more than just that, it is a reminder of God's own love for us. As God parades us through all creation, He lifts us up, dancing, smiling, holding us close, and announces with a voice more glorious than any sound in the universe, "How beautiful is my bride?"
Remember, He created nature first. The stars, the Earth, Paradise Eden, and the creatures of the sky and depths. He prepared the stage for us, like an infatuated lover preparing a surprise for his beloved. And during the very final touch, the creation of mankind, all eyes were focused on the opening of the blindfold that is bringing forth the epitome of creation, the apex of love, the core outcome of God's glory. Just like the unending applause and mad cheers that filled the dinner hall when Barack pointed to Michelle, the universe rejoiced a million times greater at the love that blossomed when mankind realized the extent of God's love.
Black, female, and not exactly physically attractive (marginalized in every sociological perspective except probably class and education), Michelle was the most beautiful woman that night. Likewise, lost, sinful and rebellious (impossible to deal with in every aspect of human nature), we are beautiful simply because we are loved by Someone far more beautiful than we can ever imagine. +)
Friday, January 23, 2009
-
I met the most beautiful creature in the world today. You know, the kind of beauty that mesmerizes you, blinds you, shocks you. Beauty that makes you want to write, sing, jump, weep and possess. I just had to write this post the moment I came home because the emotions are tearing me apart from the inside out, the feelings welling up like a geyser, the bittersweet sensation spilling over and onto the page.
It was about 3pm, just outside the toilet of LT9. A good lunch and a interesting conversation with two close friends had just taken place, who could be more satisfied? Then you came out of the canteen, all by yourself. I saw you from afar, and averted my gaze for a moment to prepare my heart for the shock. Turning back again, it was you. You. You'd cropped your hair shorter, like the photographs in JC, and the green-white top you wore was oh so familiar, unerasable from my memory. Your face radiated such fair beauty, recapturing my heart again like the first day I set my eyes on you. Your eyes were shinning, you seemed happy from where you were. And the way you walked, seductive, yet as if taking such innocent steps.
I don't know if you saw me. My lips spoke your name but no sound came from my mouth. For that meager five seconds as you walked past me, my jaw was literally left hanging open. A hundred questions rushed past my mind. How have you been? Where are you heading to? Do you know that you look fabulous? Has school been tough? Are you on good terms with your family? How's uncle and aunty? How's your little brother? Did he do well for his exams? Which JC is he applying for? How is he? How's the both of you? Is he treating you well? Is everything going on well between you both? Are you free now? Would you like to stay and chat for a while?
But... nothing came out. I forced myself to walk the other direction with my friends, towards the library. Victor, you can do it. Just walk away. Just walk away. Just walk.... Argh. No further than the admin block, I gave a lame reason and bid my friends farewell. I rush towards the direction of where you were last seen heading. Maybe you were heading home. Then it must be the 188 bus stop. I sprinted with every ounce of strength I've got. I had to see you once more. I just had to. I dunno why. I had nothing prepared to say, and if I did, I'd probably just garble those 3 words that I had been wanting to say for so long.
Down the stairs towards the terminal, I strained my eyes to look at the bus stop. Two ladies. Neither one was you. My heart sank, half broken. I stared for a while, then slowly walked to Kent Ridge terminal. Everywhere I went from that point on, I began to see you. People who looked like you. People who talked like you. People who smiled like you. But they weren't you.
It's been 6 weeks since I last saw you. I thought it was enough time to be over somebody. That if I saw you again, it shouldn't be too bad. Especially since you looked great. You looked awesome.
But no. The sight of you still overwhelms me with emotions. I was a fool to think that you'd just be a memory, a lasting prayer item on my list, a taste of heaven to come. And yet, I find that after all this while, I'm still waiting for you.
I haven't replied your last email. I didn't reply not because I was angry and wanted to spite you, or was determined to reject you, or was lazy to write, or silent due to the lack of words. God knows I have a million things that I want to ask you, to say to you. But I don't ever want to hurt you. The best option remaining was to remain silent and stay faraway. Out of your life, out of your memories, out of your thoughts.
But, if you didn't notice me today, if you never realize that the prayers I whisper every night are for you, if even the most occasional thought of me never comes to mind, will you still remember me?
Will you still need me?
If God really gave all of us a guardian angel each, I've given mine orders to watch over you.
It was about 3pm, just outside the toilet of LT9. A good lunch and a interesting conversation with two close friends had just taken place, who could be more satisfied? Then you came out of the canteen, all by yourself. I saw you from afar, and averted my gaze for a moment to prepare my heart for the shock. Turning back again, it was you. You. You'd cropped your hair shorter, like the photographs in JC, and the green-white top you wore was oh so familiar, unerasable from my memory. Your face radiated such fair beauty, recapturing my heart again like the first day I set my eyes on you. Your eyes were shinning, you seemed happy from where you were. And the way you walked, seductive, yet as if taking such innocent steps.
I don't know if you saw me. My lips spoke your name but no sound came from my mouth. For that meager five seconds as you walked past me, my jaw was literally left hanging open. A hundred questions rushed past my mind. How have you been? Where are you heading to? Do you know that you look fabulous? Has school been tough? Are you on good terms with your family? How's uncle and aunty? How's your little brother? Did he do well for his exams? Which JC is he applying for? How is he? How's the both of you? Is he treating you well? Is everything going on well between you both? Are you free now? Would you like to stay and chat for a while?
But... nothing came out. I forced myself to walk the other direction with my friends, towards the library. Victor, you can do it. Just walk away. Just walk away. Just walk.... Argh. No further than the admin block, I gave a lame reason and bid my friends farewell. I rush towards the direction of where you were last seen heading. Maybe you were heading home. Then it must be the 188 bus stop. I sprinted with every ounce of strength I've got. I had to see you once more. I just had to. I dunno why. I had nothing prepared to say, and if I did, I'd probably just garble those 3 words that I had been wanting to say for so long.
Down the stairs towards the terminal, I strained my eyes to look at the bus stop. Two ladies. Neither one was you. My heart sank, half broken. I stared for a while, then slowly walked to Kent Ridge terminal. Everywhere I went from that point on, I began to see you. People who looked like you. People who talked like you. People who smiled like you. But they weren't you.
It's been 6 weeks since I last saw you. I thought it was enough time to be over somebody. That if I saw you again, it shouldn't be too bad. Especially since you looked great. You looked awesome.
But no. The sight of you still overwhelms me with emotions. I was a fool to think that you'd just be a memory, a lasting prayer item on my list, a taste of heaven to come. And yet, I find that after all this while, I'm still waiting for you.
I haven't replied your last email. I didn't reply not because I was angry and wanted to spite you, or was determined to reject you, or was lazy to write, or silent due to the lack of words. God knows I have a million things that I want to ask you, to say to you. But I don't ever want to hurt you. The best option remaining was to remain silent and stay faraway. Out of your life, out of your memories, out of your thoughts.
But, if you didn't notice me today, if you never realize that the prayers I whisper every night are for you, if even the most occasional thought of me never comes to mind, will you still remember me?
Will you still need me?
If God really gave all of us a guardian angel each, I've given mine orders to watch over you.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
A Good Man
"A woman needs to be loved, lusted after, spoilt, pampered, adored, worship. How can any woman in the right mind settle for anything less?"
"There are a million women out there who have given up such dreams, Layla."
"Well, I'm not going to be one of them. I'm going to get myself a bad boy."
"Why would anyone want to be with a bad boy?"
"Oh, Desiree. I'm tired of all the good men. Men who buy me what I want. Men who listen, agree with everything a woman says, hold them in their arms to sleep every night, kiss them everyday before they go to work."
"But... isn't that what every lady wants? There are so many tears shed by women all over the world because their men forget to be like this. I think you've just described an ideal man, a man many women would give up everything to be with."
"Desiree! You don't understand. I want to be with someone who's treats me roughly once in a while, like a real man, not the gentle, soft wussies that I've been with. I want to be ravaged, taken advantage of, pursued, only to be left alone as he goes out for another adventure. I want a man with a goal in life, a man who throws his temper, a man with whom life is a roller-coaster, or a box of chocolates, whichever analogy you prefer. I don't want a predictable man, a man who'll always love me, who demands nothing of me."
"You're crazy, you know that."
"Sigh. Maybe the grass is just always greener on the other side."
"Maybe you've read too many romantic novels and broken the hearts of too many a good men."
"That, Desiree, is a moral definition of 'good'. To me, 'good' must be defined as 'right for me'."
"You've just subjected the term 'good' to your whim and fancy!"
"I know. That's why men all over the world can take comfort that women today are still looking for 'good' men."
"If that's the case, I want a good man too."
"Who won't?"
"I know of someone who won't. Her name is Layla."
"Desiree!"
Unedited excerpt from "Conversations about Love" by Valentino Casanova
"There are a million women out there who have given up such dreams, Layla."
"Well, I'm not going to be one of them. I'm going to get myself a bad boy."
"Why would anyone want to be with a bad boy?"
"Oh, Desiree. I'm tired of all the good men. Men who buy me what I want. Men who listen, agree with everything a woman says, hold them in their arms to sleep every night, kiss them everyday before they go to work."
"But... isn't that what every lady wants? There are so many tears shed by women all over the world because their men forget to be like this. I think you've just described an ideal man, a man many women would give up everything to be with."
"Desiree! You don't understand. I want to be with someone who's treats me roughly once in a while, like a real man, not the gentle, soft wussies that I've been with. I want to be ravaged, taken advantage of, pursued, only to be left alone as he goes out for another adventure. I want a man with a goal in life, a man who throws his temper, a man with whom life is a roller-coaster, or a box of chocolates, whichever analogy you prefer. I don't want a predictable man, a man who'll always love me, who demands nothing of me."
"You're crazy, you know that."
"Sigh. Maybe the grass is just always greener on the other side."
"Maybe you've read too many romantic novels and broken the hearts of too many a good men."
"That, Desiree, is a moral definition of 'good'. To me, 'good' must be defined as 'right for me'."
"You've just subjected the term 'good' to your whim and fancy!"
"I know. That's why men all over the world can take comfort that women today are still looking for 'good' men."
"If that's the case, I want a good man too."
"Who won't?"
"I know of someone who won't. Her name is Layla."
"Desiree!"
Unedited excerpt from "Conversations about Love" by Valentino Casanova
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Always Be My Baby
I heard from a little mouse that you don't seem happy lately, and that you're trying to be strong, like you've always been doing. Well, this song is for you. You're the only person I've ever addressed as "baby".
Always Be My Baby - David Cook
We were as one babe
For a moment in time
And it seemed everlasting
That you would always be mine
Now you want to be free
So I'm letting you fly
Cause I know in my heart babe
Our love will never die
No!
You'll always be a part of me
I'm a part of you indefinitely
Girl don't you know you can't escape me
Ooh darling cause you'll always be my baby
And we'll linger on
Time can't erase a feeling this strong
No way you're never gonna shake me
Ooh darling cause you'll always be my baby
I ain't gonna cry no
And I won't beg you to stay
If you're determined to leave girl
I will not stand in your way
But inevitably you'll be back again
Cause ya know in your heart babe
Our love will never end no
I know that you'll be back girl
When your days and your nights get a little bit colder oooohhh
I know that, you'll be right back, babe
Ooooh! Baby believe me it's only a matter of time
We were as one babe
For a moment in time
And it seemed everlasting
That you would always be mine
Now you want to be free
So I'm letting you fly
Cause I know in my heart babe
Our love will never die
No!
You'll always be a part of me
I'm a part of you indefinitely
Girl don't you know you can't escape me
Ooh darling cause you'll always be my baby
And we'll linger on
Time can't erase a feeling this strong
No way you're never gonna shake me
Ooh darling cause you'll always be my baby
I ain't gonna cry no
And I won't beg you to stay
If you're determined to leave girl
I will not stand in your way
But inevitably you'll be back again
Cause ya know in your heart babe
Our love will never end no
I know that you'll be back girl
When your days and your nights get a little bit colder oooohhh
I know that, you'll be right back, babe
Ooooh! Baby believe me it's only a matter of time
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
How Do You Know You're In Love?
I quote a close Sociology classmate of mine who wrote this question down in her blog:
But one thing puzzles me greatly…if you never know what love is, how will you know you are in love?
Taking a quick glance through her other posts, I left that question at the corner of my mind as food for thought. It seemed like a pretty harmless question, something that comes up in our minds once in a while when we ponder about relationships.
Then it hit me. You don't have to know what love is to know you're in love! Brilliant huh. Totally copied the idea from the Sociology of Religion module we took together last semester: You don't have to be able to define religion to know what religion is, and how it works in society. Same goes for love. All of us have experienced love before, but we can't really pinpoint what it is. Yes, there are a million songs and movies, books and thesis on love; countless commercial products promoting "love as it is"; famous gurus explaining the mysteries of love to thousands of lost souls hoping to get a idea of the love they find themselves craving so much.
Well God knew that this question is bound to plague the minds of this world, from the greatest to the simplest, so He decided to be really nice (as He always is, eventually) and tell us the answer directly. HE is love. No, God is not the GOD of love. HE is love itself. There is no god of love. Cupid is a flawed conception and cannot exist simply because one day Cupid will have to fall in love himself to even come to terms with the sacrifice required of the responsibility "bestowed" to him. And like all of us, he's going to maim himself if he plunges his own arrow into his heart.
So any attempt to define what love is results in the constraint of trying to describe God. Be it with language, art, music, architecture, it is not going to be possible to be successful. We can continue to try, but we're only going to be able to show so much. And some attempts, admittedly, come close to hitting the bulls eye of our hearts. Ever cried when you watched a Korean/Japanese romance series or listened to the lyrics of a love song? Ever teared when you saw Jordan shoot in the winning basket of the final game in the NBA series or Gerrard finally lifting the Champions League trophy? Ever gasped in amazement at the view of the Great Wall from the moon or the Taj Mahal from the sky? Ever felt the strings of your heart tugging to the love theme from Tchaikowsky's "Romeo & Juliet" or the flush on your face to the piano melody from Kevin Kern's "Sundial Dreams"? How much more there is in store for us in heaven when we get there?
To the friend who posed this question, my belief is this. We know when we're in love, even without being able to define what love is, simply because love is first of all indescribable (though its awesome beauty propels, no, compels us to constantly describe it with our limited capacities), and secondly, because we were just made by the Creator to love and be loved. Thus being the fact, it also follows that we will recognize love when we feel it within us. We will just know.
The greatest thing on Earth and in Heaven is to love and be loved.
But one thing puzzles me greatly…if you never know what love is, how will you know you are in love?
Taking a quick glance through her other posts, I left that question at the corner of my mind as food for thought. It seemed like a pretty harmless question, something that comes up in our minds once in a while when we ponder about relationships.
Then it hit me. You don't have to know what love is to know you're in love! Brilliant huh. Totally copied the idea from the Sociology of Religion module we took together last semester: You don't have to be able to define religion to know what religion is, and how it works in society. Same goes for love. All of us have experienced love before, but we can't really pinpoint what it is. Yes, there are a million songs and movies, books and thesis on love; countless commercial products promoting "love as it is"; famous gurus explaining the mysteries of love to thousands of lost souls hoping to get a idea of the love they find themselves craving so much.
Well God knew that this question is bound to plague the minds of this world, from the greatest to the simplest, so He decided to be really nice (as He always is, eventually) and tell us the answer directly. HE is love. No, God is not the GOD of love. HE is love itself. There is no god of love. Cupid is a flawed conception and cannot exist simply because one day Cupid will have to fall in love himself to even come to terms with the sacrifice required of the responsibility "bestowed" to him. And like all of us, he's going to maim himself if he plunges his own arrow into his heart.
So any attempt to define what love is results in the constraint of trying to describe God. Be it with language, art, music, architecture, it is not going to be possible to be successful. We can continue to try, but we're only going to be able to show so much. And some attempts, admittedly, come close to hitting the bulls eye of our hearts. Ever cried when you watched a Korean/Japanese romance series or listened to the lyrics of a love song? Ever teared when you saw Jordan shoot in the winning basket of the final game in the NBA series or Gerrard finally lifting the Champions League trophy? Ever gasped in amazement at the view of the Great Wall from the moon or the Taj Mahal from the sky? Ever felt the strings of your heart tugging to the love theme from Tchaikowsky's "Romeo & Juliet" or the flush on your face to the piano melody from Kevin Kern's "Sundial Dreams"? How much more there is in store for us in heaven when we get there?
To the friend who posed this question, my belief is this. We know when we're in love, even without being able to define what love is, simply because love is first of all indescribable (though its awesome beauty propels, no, compels us to constantly describe it with our limited capacities), and secondly, because we were just made by the Creator to love and be loved. Thus being the fact, it also follows that we will recognize love when we feel it within us. We will just know.
The greatest thing on Earth and in Heaven is to love and be loved.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Right Inside You All Along
Just like to thank officially thank David for adding a tune and chords to the song I wrote in July (so long ago!) Anyway if you're interested it's on his blog.
Went cycling myself today from East Coast Park to Changi Beach and back. Stopped by the jetty to read Isaiah 5 out loud facing the sea. I love the sensation of the wind blowing against me, taking the words I read to God-knows-where. But no matter, it's between Him and me. The first time I did something similar was with Richard and Yaosheng on one of the huge rocks by the sea, reading our favorite psalm out loud. Ever since that time, I always had a yearning to do it again, and today I got my wish. Continuing on along the route, I kept singing the Christian songs that popped into my head, one after another. It's a wondrous feeling, and definitely not a coincidence that it was the really "old" songs, not the Hillsong, Chris Tomlin ones that came back again and again. Didn't care if people smiled at me or looked at me as if I were weird, they probably won't see me or remember me anyway. When my voice was spent, and my thighs began to ache, I just spent the time praying and asking God to speak. A time spent like no other, such peace among the beautiful greenery by the seaside! When I reached the jetty on the way back again, I just had to stop and read Psalms 103 out loud to the waves again. Subway sandwich for lunch, a song inspiration came to me as I was on the way home on the bus. Talk about random timings. Like the one that David just added the music to, it was about her, as my thoughts haven't wandered very far elsewhere the last few weeks, but for the glory of God alone.
Reached home, played a bit of basketball at the court downstairs, but nobody joined me, so I went back up after 45 mins for a good book. When Dad and Mum came home, it was time for my Yoshinoya buta-don which I prepared for the family for dinner. Cooking is so enjoyable when it's for those whom you love. +)
Anyway, the song is below. The tune and chords are more or less fixed, might added one more verse and/or a bridge later on.
Went cycling myself today from East Coast Park to Changi Beach and back. Stopped by the jetty to read Isaiah 5 out loud facing the sea. I love the sensation of the wind blowing against me, taking the words I read to God-knows-where. But no matter, it's between Him and me. The first time I did something similar was with Richard and Yaosheng on one of the huge rocks by the sea, reading our favorite psalm out loud. Ever since that time, I always had a yearning to do it again, and today I got my wish. Continuing on along the route, I kept singing the Christian songs that popped into my head, one after another. It's a wondrous feeling, and definitely not a coincidence that it was the really "old" songs, not the Hillsong, Chris Tomlin ones that came back again and again. Didn't care if people smiled at me or looked at me as if I were weird, they probably won't see me or remember me anyway. When my voice was spent, and my thighs began to ache, I just spent the time praying and asking God to speak. A time spent like no other, such peace among the beautiful greenery by the seaside! When I reached the jetty on the way back again, I just had to stop and read Psalms 103 out loud to the waves again. Subway sandwich for lunch, a song inspiration came to me as I was on the way home on the bus. Talk about random timings. Like the one that David just added the music to, it was about her, as my thoughts haven't wandered very far elsewhere the last few weeks, but for the glory of God alone.
Reached home, played a bit of basketball at the court downstairs, but nobody joined me, so I went back up after 45 mins for a good book. When Dad and Mum came home, it was time for my Yoshinoya buta-don which I prepared for the family for dinner. Cooking is so enjoyable when it's for those whom you love. +)
Anyway, the song is below. The tune and chords are more or less fixed, might added one more verse and/or a bridge later on.
Right Inside You All Along
Is it you?
Or is it me?
Or is the whole damn world stopping us
From a love so free?
Is it that guy?
Or is it those girls?
It is no wonder why
That deep inside you hurt
Why... Do you look for love
Everywhere on this Earth?
Why... Do you put your hope
In people when you aren't sure
Tell me why... Oh why do you
Cry yourself to sleep every night
When the love you've searched for so long
Has been right there
Right inside you all along
Is it you?
Or is it me?
Or is the whole damn world stopping us
From a love so free?
Is it that guy?
Or is it those girls?
It is no wonder why
That deep inside you hurt
Why... Do you look for love
Everywhere on this Earth?
Why... Do you put your hope
In people when you aren't sure
Tell me why... Oh why do you
Cry yourself to sleep every night
When the love you've searched for so long
Has been right there
Right inside you all along
Friday, January 02, 2009
Blessed New Year!
A blessed New Year to one and all. May you draw closer to Jesus, even if a spanner has to fall from heaven onto your heard. It hurts, but it's also necessary.
One more year has passed. It's January already, and while most people are having fresh starts, I still feel a certain indescribable, liminal transcendence, as if floating in mid-air, tied down by the bittersweet memories of the year before, like a kite. I really don't like the soft, slow acid-like effect that jealousy has on your heart.
Got news from Thiam Kwee that Michelle and myself have been selected to be worship leaders for the main congregation starting June this year, and from now till then, to be mentored by Eric Chong and Jeremiah respectively. It's a dream come true to me, being able to do what I love most as service to the church, but the proposal coming now makes me worry that I'm not in the right frame of mind or ready to serve in this area. But who is ever ready? When I thought I was stable enough to face anything some time in October last year, God showed me how a small knock on my knee led my entire being to collapse and lean onto Him like a crutch. To say that I'm worried that I won't be good enough for Him sounds silly coming from someone in charge of a teaching ministry, but I'll say it again, because it's true.
I'm worried I'm not good enough for You.
One more year has passed. It's January already, and while most people are having fresh starts, I still feel a certain indescribable, liminal transcendence, as if floating in mid-air, tied down by the bittersweet memories of the year before, like a kite. I really don't like the soft, slow acid-like effect that jealousy has on your heart.
Got news from Thiam Kwee that Michelle and myself have been selected to be worship leaders for the main congregation starting June this year, and from now till then, to be mentored by Eric Chong and Jeremiah respectively. It's a dream come true to me, being able to do what I love most as service to the church, but the proposal coming now makes me worry that I'm not in the right frame of mind or ready to serve in this area. But who is ever ready? When I thought I was stable enough to face anything some time in October last year, God showed me how a small knock on my knee led my entire being to collapse and lean onto Him like a crutch. To say that I'm worried that I won't be good enough for Him sounds silly coming from someone in charge of a teaching ministry, but I'll say it again, because it's true.
I'm worried I'm not good enough for You.
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