To My Dad

To the man who has by far the most impact on my life, a blessed birthday with many more to come.

I'm reminded of one of the discussion periods during the church retreat when groups of about eight to ten people gathered to talk about what the speaker had just expounded on. I recall Uncle Lester complaining mildly about how his children don't obey what his wife and himself have told them anymore, and how in some sense they have given up on even disciplining their children. Honestly, I was secretly gasping when he recounted of stories of how his son would bring his food into the room to study and eat at the same time, or of how his daughter would lock her door when studying so that the parents won't disturb. Maybe he was exaggerating, maybe he wasn't. But whatever the case, the overemphasis on the importance of studying was slowly eroding the family bonds.

My dad would never allow me to do these things. Bringing food into the room was a nono since the day I was born, and I never had my own room to lock anyway. Dad had brought home the bacon and Mum had taken pains to cook it, so we were to accord them the basic respect of eating together. Studying was made secondary to the family meal, and the collaborated saying of grace ritualized. From some perspectives, it can even be seen as harsh, but I've gotten use to these rules. Especially towards the last few years, my dad's temper has simmered down a lot, and the days when he would discipline us without much explanation were long gone. Now, at least for myself, I can tell that he loves us children very much, but still lets everyone know who's the boss in the family.

As the years passed, my dad became my close friend. I don't share everything with him; different things are meant to be shared with different people. But I would say he knows a big chunk of the things most intimate to me. He always gives godly advice, and I appreciate that, though often they are hard things to do. I enjoy the long conversations with my dad, of him recounting tales of his past, about his influential grandfather whom he always admired, about the woman he loves so dearly with all his heart, and the God whom he fears respectfully and obeys faithfully. Occasionally he would lull into a "naggy" disposition, but I don't mind hearing the same things over and over again.

Given his extremely stubborn independence, I fear much for him. As the years go by, I watch the strands of silver-white hair increase exponentially, his limbs weaken, his voice tone down. The man I once reckoned as the strongest man in the world, who beats Superman hands down because of the "mouse" in his biceps, is growing more and more frail. He walks slower now, with a cane or walking stick when the distance is long, and pauses on the stairs frequently. Parkinson's Disease seems to swallow the calmness of his demeanor, yet his aura is stately. He is, without a doubt, the man whom I learned visually and from a first-hand basis what true charisma really was.

And now, I'm beginning to worry. I'm worried that one day, he's going to end up in a wheelchair, as the polio that he had struggled with his whole life takes on its toil. I'm worried that one day, he's going to overwork himself as I consider joining ministry and someone has to pay the university fees of my brothers. I'm worried that one day, if I should die in a freak accident, that he'll collapse emotionally.

For those of you whose dads are still alive and well, don't take him for granted. Pastor Lawrence mentioned that God loves us unconditionally, but bestows favor conditionally. We can't disobey and expect God to bless us abundantly. Obedience is the sure way to gain God's favor. But let us take it one step further. If there's one thing I learned about God through my relationship with my dad, it's this: Take initiative to do the things that you know he enjoys seeing you do for Him. That requires a certain intimacy with God. I didn't know the things my dad enjoyed, until I got to know him as a close friend. Now that I do, I take initiative to do things for him most of the time. That's why among the three of us brothers, I can't say for sure that my dad loves me the most, but I dare say that he trusts me the most when it comes to the large majority of things.

Imagine, if obedience brings God's favor, what are the wondrous possibilities of blessings that can come our way if we take initiative to do things for God without Him even asking?










Before a man can devote himself to God or to a woman, a boy will devote himself to his father, even foolishly, even beyond explanation. -Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet In Heaven

If there is one thing my dad demonstrated to me about chivalry, it is this: You can't recognize a true gentleman until poverty overcomes him. Don't assume one is a gentleman unless you see him buy everyone drinks without hesitation even after he has lost his job and his bank account is near zero. Don't assume the man you love is a gentleman if his temper fluctuates with his wealth, but like he promised on his wedding day: for richer and for poorer. And most of all, don't assume the man you admire is a gentleman, unless he loves you the way Christ loves the church, being able to give up everything for you, including his own life. Poverty, dear sister, is what differentiates the heart of a true gentleman from the overrated lifestyle vied among wannabes. -Valentino Casanova

Who Is Jesus To Me?

I've just finished the biography of Mother Teresa, and I just had to share this poem with everyone. It depicts her interpretation of Matthew 25:40. And I find that the more I read through this poem, the more I can't help but to marvel in agreement.

Who Is Jesus To Me?

Jesus is the Word made Flesh.
Jesus is the Bread of Life.
Jesus is the Victim offered for our sins on the Cross.
Jesus is the Sacrifice offered at the Holy Mass for the sins of the world and mine.
Jesus is the Word - to be spoken.
Jesus is the Truth - to be told.
Jesus is the Way - to be walked.
Jesus is the Light - to be lit.
Jesus is the Life - to be lived.
Jesus is the Love - to be loved.
Jesus is the Joy - to be shared.
Jesus is the Sacrifice - to be offered.
Jesus is the Peace - to be given.
Jesus is the Bread of Life - to be eaten.
Jesus is the Hungry - to be fed.
Jesus is the Thirsty - to be satiated.
Jesus is the Naked - to be clothed.
Jesus is the Homeless - to be taken in.
Jesus is the Sick - to be healed.
Jesus is the Lonely - to be loved.
Jesus is the Unwanted - to be wanted.
Jesus is the Leper - to wash His wounds.
Jesus is the Beggar - to give Him a smile.
Jesus is the Drunkard - to listen to Him.
Jesus is the Retard - to protect Him.
Jesus is the Little One - to embrace Him.
Jesus is the Blind - to lead Him.
Jesus is the Dumb - to speak for Him.
Jesus is the Crippled - to walk for Him.
Jesus is the Drug Addict - to befriend Him.
Jesus is the Prostitute - to remove from danger and befriend.
Jesus is the Prisoner - to be visited.
Jesus is the Old - to be served.





I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me. -Jesus (Matthew 25:40)

Anorexia and Pornography: Life-long Struggles

As I flipped the pages of the Straits Times today, I saw a photograph of a friend I got to know in NUS. Under the Mind Your Health section page 16-17 was Natalie, a pretty, spunky girl from what I last remembered of her. Didn't see her often in school; the last time I saw her was during Arts Camp last year, and boy was I shocked at the change.

A victim of anorexia nervosa, Natalie had virtually turned into a skeleton. I remembered gasping in silent shock; she was a shade of the beautiful babe that quite a number of guys had been crazy about. It was my first life encounter with an anorexia victim, and I was to meet a few more as the year passed.

But as I read the article, a wave of relief swept over me. She had managed to seek professional help and is now recovering. As I read her blog, which I've tagged on the side of my own one, I begin to understand a little more personally about this issue than what I already know from my own personal research. A new revelation that I'd learned was the issue of control. Some sufferers of anorexia on one hand enjoy the control they have over their own bodies, seeing the numbers on their weighing machine go down, being able to control their diets etc., while on another hand lose control of their emotions and rational thinking.

However, what struck me most was Natalie's personal revelation of her relationship with God. Peppered around her blog posts were little snippets of how people close to her showed her how much God loved her with their little actions. People like her parents, her best friend Pearl (who I also know) and the supporters on her blog. I don't actually think that she hears God's voice too clearly, because people who do can't help but talk or write about their conversations with God. But I think the actions from the people around her is more than sufficient to show God's love adequately, in order to battle with this life-long issue of anorexia.

You don't have to be suffering from anorexia to read her blog. Inside all of us we struggle with certain inadequacies about who we are. Some of the sins that are rooted so deeply within us have connections to these inadequacies. Pornography for example. I'm not generalizing this to all men, but some men are addicted to pornography because of what the world tells them: That they need to have certain amounts of money, looks, brands, cars, power etc., to get a certain kind of woman that the whole world supposedly adores. In the meantime, while capitalists are cashing in on the huge amount of money spent on looks, brands, cars etc., men who can't afford these things, or who can afford them but find them useless, turn to pornography for a short-term fix, and slowly it becomes an addiction. Quite quickly actually.

So do give her some support when you can. She's a pretty lady and a good writer so most of you guys won't find it much of a chore to update yourself on her life. If you can suffer mine, her's is a breeze. And for the ladies, there's quite a bit of food pornography in it, so beware. Food can be to anorexia-prone girls what videos of beautiful, naked women are to pornography-prone addicts. Why else can we explain why female magazines have 10 times more advertisements on food than men's magazines?







Most anorexics are very intelligent. Many are high achievers, like established dancers, yet they feel that it's not enough. -Geraldine Tan, psychologist at Center For Effective Living

Take it from someone's who's been through it. Pornography is a life-long struggle, as much as anorexia is. The world makes a big deal out of anorexics because they are visually outstanding, but if you look carefully into the eyes of some guys, their addiction to pornography is often equally as noticeable, if not worse. -Valentino Casanova

Revival and Reality

Church camp was great! Pastor Lawrence is a great speaker, the unorthodox type; I love his style. The message was clear and straight-forward, easy to grasp, and never boring. People came forth for altar calls, rededicated their lives back to Jesus, resumed an active prayer life, rediscovered the passion for QT, and grasped the concept of "being in the desert" with God.

The most exciting thing for me was that my prayers were being answered right in front of my eyes. Since the beginning of this year, I have been praying for revival in St. Matthew's every night. But as time went by, nothing happened, at least from what I could see, and my heart had grown slightly disappointed. Nonetheless, I gained confidence from the testimonies of people who prayed for their church and nation for twenty years before revival came about, and these short stories gave me hope and kept me on my knees. And now this! Amazing! God is good! He didn't keep me and all the others who must have been desiring for this revival waiting very long, in six months a glimmer of hope is on the horizon.

But now we must keep our eyes open for the attacks by the devil. He won't like this much, and I bet he'll do everything to keep this revival from ever occurring. It'll be unwise to stop praying now and be complacent because of the victory of just one battle. For evidence, the history of St. Matthew's for over the last twenty years is littered with countless losses. Regardless, I'm trusting God to make this work.

Over the past few days, I've been on a roller coaster of emotions. It's those kind of days when I'm so happy that I'm being fed nourishing, delicious spiritual food after a long starvation, yet plagued by the fear that this is simply a one-time off event, a momentary high that last just for those three, four days. I confided to my roommates of my secret fear, the fear that this flame will not last, and even be extinguished by the disappointments from reminders of sky-high hopes that failed to materialize over my teenage years. I hate being disappointed, I hate failing, and most of all I hate being reminded of them.

This emotional roller coaster ride is taking it's toll on me. For example, right after coming home from the camp, I felt that I had to remind Nicholas of his arrogance. I don't know how to do it without sounding arrogant myself, but I also don't want him to have his ego shattered the way God shattered mine just so that he will learn it the hard way. So I just told it in his face, and as expected, he didn't take it very well. Tension increased, tempers flared, insults were fired. Suddenly the blissful feeling from the camp just vanished. I switched on my laptop, went straight to Facebook to play Restaurant City and Mousehunt again, and suddenly a gripping thought flashed through my mind.



Nothing has changed.





The challenge now is how to bring whatever that was learned and apply them into practice. While sitting on the nice comfy chair at the hotel's function room, anyone and everyone can imagine and dream of revival in church. But when we all come back to "Sunny Singapore" and back to our normal lives, how easy is it to sink back into our old ways, as if nothing had happened! No, it must not be this way. Initiative must be taken, difficult measures must be implemented, complete obedience must be fostered.







But something is weighing down on me heavily. My feet feel like a ton of steel has been riveted around it. I suspect it's sin, but it isn't. I take a glance downwards to double-check, and I can't believe what I see.

A fragmented mirror-screen, reflecting two decades of failures and loneliness back at me.

Someone pass me a hammer. And get me some bandages.

I live in a mirror, one that’s made of broken glass
My thoughts and body are distorted into a giant blackened mass
My eyes do not see clearly what I have to give to life
My spirit swims in search of hope, but is drowned with all the strife
I plead humbly for help from somewhere up above
But I feel so abandoned, and unworthy of His love
When will my pain and suffering end its battle fought too long?
When will my soul be filled with peace and sing life’s beautiful sweet song?
Please help me God break from this squeezing deathly grip
Please calm the sea and be the Captain of my ship

-Taken from an anti-anorexia blog

The next time the Devil reminds you of your past, you remind him of his future. -Lawrence Seow

There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. -Paul (Rom 8:1)

Revival Must-haves

Church camp starts tomorrow! So excited. Plus, Michelle and I are having our worship leading debut tomorrow during main service too! Okay, not me really, it's her. I'm just helping because she got pushed two months ahead of schedule last minute. As usual, spiritual attacks abound; my toothache came back again two days ago, but slowly subsided. It's a constant reminder of how I must never steal a single piece of limelight from God, for it's with His strength that I can even have a voice to sing, it's for His victory over death that I even have something to sing about.

Last Sunday was the Global Day of Prayer organized by some of the largest churches in Singapore. Some of the youths and I went for it, and though we were late, we still managed to catch quite a large part of it. Everything went pretty good, there were few screw-ups (the major ones being the power-point, as usual), but something was strangely amiss. The worship was fantastic, the crowd was wild and party-like, the atmosphere was on fire. But there was a problem.

Firstly, this was a Global Day of Prayer event. But the amount of time I spent praying was less than 1/4 of the entire time I was there! Worship took half the time, sermon and some performances took up the other quarter. Instead, it seemed like a youth-outreach program! The organizers had lined-up performances that were very much eye-candy. Some were totally weird, like beat-boxing and break dancing, then calling it a Christian performance. Alright, I'll let that off, but I could tell Jason was definitely not happy about it. I blame it on the fact that we grew up in a conservative Christian environment, but there's still something strange about rapping "Yo, Jesus, He's the man, yo." It's just... strange. But the thing that irked me was that I expected to go there and pray, but we hardly did so.

Secondly, and more dangerously, was that the Global Day of Prayer targeted the audience. It was all about the audience. How important they were, how they need to stand up and go forth, how they are unique and special blah blah. I was squirming in my seat consistently; such messages are... wrong. God doesn't NEED you. He isn't Uncle Sam. If you don't want to get up and obey, He'll find someone else. God INVITES you to do His work, "Whom shall I send? Who shall go for us?" (Isaiah 6:8a) He doesn't look and say, "Hey bro, I need you. You're the key." It's nice to think that we are the key people with Messianic destinies predestined since before time. But I'm sorry to disappoint you, if you're not willing to help, that's just too bad. You missed your chance. You're not Neo from The Matrix or John Conner from Terminator. Neither are you the Phoenix from X-Men Chronicles or Leonidas from 300. God's kingdom will not come any slower if you're not willing to play a part in it, there are many others who are more than happy to stand in your place.

If revival is going to come, it'll come with a re-emphasis not on who we are, but who God is. The church comes dangerously to telling the Good News with the listeners as the main figure. If this doctrine continues, there is no difference from the advertisements on television. Prosperity sermons come from this evil, misaligned strain of human wisdom. The Bible talks more about the path of Jesus being one of suffering, not prosperity. We are warned that the path is not easy, that suffering is commonplace in the Christian walk, then called to suffer with Jesus. We are even commanded to make Christ's suffering complete in us(Col 1:24).

The Church doesn't need softies. No great movement ever took forth with people making a huge din then running away in the face of suffering. No great transformation ever took place with people waving huge banners and fleeing the authorities.

Least of all, no great Christian revival ever took place by focusing on teaching people about how great they are and how important they are to the Kingdom. On the contrary, great revivals take place by telling people simply who God is. In the 1800s, the hellfire and brimstone preachers were relegated as pessimistic preachers, and the "revivalists" who focused on the mercy of God began to gain prominence. The wannabe world evangelists today follow that trend by talking about God's mercy and grace (and for some of them, prosperity too!), but they forget one thing. The people in the 1800s (because of the slowly dying out but still prominent hellfire and brimstone preachers) were strongly aware of sin, that's why the mercy/grace sermons had their effect. The people today do not have an awareness of sin that is as evident, and mercy/grace sermons are slowly being dominated by prosperity sermons that sound good to the human ears.


If revival is to start in church and in Singapore:
1. We must know God intimately
2. We must disregard ourselves as nothing but disposable instruments called to serve and obey
3. All efforts at evangelism must aim at making people aware of sin again


Without this three things, revival will not come, or at best, match the level of other major religions or new-age doctrines that focus on ME ME ME. My "energy", my "qi", my "optimistic perspectives". Christianity MUST differ in that we focus on GOD GOD GOD. It matters not if Christians start leaving the church when suddenly their lives are filled with suffering. It matters not should global church leaders debate over something so "point blank" in the Bible. It matters not if pre-believers start getting turned off when they find out through Christianity that the world doesn't revolve around them (and not because we start becoming obnoxious, self-glorifying and rude).








But because the world REALLY doesn't revolve around them, (or us, for that matter). It revolves around HIM, and will continue to, till the end of time.








Let Jesus be everything, and I, nothing. I'm nothing but a small instrument in His hands. It matters not what happens to me, it only matters that people love Jesus more each day. -Mother Teresa

Therefore, among God's churches we boast about your perseverance and faith in all the persecutions and trials you are enduring. All this is evidence that God's judgment is right, and as a result you will be counted worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you are suffering. -Paul (2 Thess 1:4-5)

Can't Fight This Feeling

I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship, had grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever
I said there is no reason for my fear
'Cause I feel so secure when were together
You gave my life direction
You made everything so clear

And even as I wander
I'm keeping you in sight
You're a candle in the window
On a cold, dark winter's night
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

And I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I started fighting for
It's time to bring this ship into the shore
And throw away the oars, forever

'Cause I cant fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I started fighting for
And if I have to crawl upon the floor
Come crashing through your door
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

My life had been such a whirlwind since I saw you
I'd been running round in circles in my mind
And it always seems that I'm following you, girl
'Cause you took me to the places that alone I'd never find

Love is everything it's cracked up to be... It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. -Erica Jong

Loving and Hating

The whole world always seems to be in love when you're single.




When I just glance through Chloe's blog, I saw something that reminded me of a thought that I flirted with some time ago.

"So my theory is that the greater capacity you have to hate, the more room you have to love."

I know in some way or another I subscribe to this theory partially. Admittedly, I'm strangely attracted to girls who hate themselves. The more vicious the hatred, the more intensely I get caught up. And with whatever experience I have, the statement is true. Girls who hate themselves intensely have a mind-blowing capacity to love another.

More manipulative men would nurse and stir the hatred, invoking it whenever their egos need a boost. And it works, no doubt. That's a principle of the so-called "players" and "bad boys" after all. They make the girl hate herself so deeply that any independent identity is erased and her identity is linked to who he is and what he can do.

To me, that is downright mean and heartless. My attraction is based on a desire to lift her up and let her understand how beautiful she is and what she's really capable of. My new revelation? It's not just exclusive to romantic linkages. My heart goes out to the young ladies in the school who look down on themselves. I have no inclination and desire to teach the Express girls of whom many (not all) believe they know it all, and think that they own the world. It's a facade ladies, and you know it. But if you like the little mask you wear, by all means.

As for the NA girls, it's like a magnetic attraction. They've no interest in school, no inclination to study, much less over the June holidays. Truth to be told, the only thing that I have to capture the first few minutes of their attention is my looks. I'm not THAT good-looking so the effect is pretty limited. But I offered them something, deep down in my heart. I have no idea where the words came from, but it went something like this:

Ladies. I know that there's Something beautiful deep down inside all of you. I know the world doesn't see it, doesn't recognize it, doesn't appreciate it. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. It just means that you'll have to wait a little while longer before it's your turn to shine. Each and everyone of you, you were born to be beautiful, you were born to be loved, and you were born to be a star. And I'm going to help you find your way.

I'm sure they knew that the last promise was impossible; after all, I'm leaving in late July. But for the duration of the entire two periods (1hr 10 mins), I had every student captivated. It surprised me that no one had ever spoken to them that way before. After class, some girls even queued up to meet me. They spoke of their secret dreams: To be superstars, world-renowned artists, wealthy businesswomen. Some of them simply wanted a good life to provide for the ones they loved. But some time or another, these dreams disappeared, fading into the background of a hostile world of academic competition. And it was nice to be able to revive these dreams back again. I swear I saw some of them literally skip away for the next class after our conversation ended!

My supervisor was impressed. She never did capture half of any class' attention before, at least since I started class observation (because she nags alot). And it was a nice feeling to be complimented by a senior teacher. However, the jubilation didn't last long.





The little, dark voice came back to haunt me.





It spoke of my failures, my uselessness, my short-term successes. You want real evidence, It asked. Simple. Look at your past relationships. None of them worked out. All of them were ladies who needed love, needed motivation, needed inspiration. They needed approval, to know that they were beautiful, intelligent, charming, desired. And that you gave! And how eloquently too! After all, it was your gift, no? Did God not reveal your talent to inspire with words that penetrate deep into the soul and warm hearts, giving them the will and the belief to fight untold hordes of enemies? But oh, how meaningless. One by one they left, without logical reasoning. Yes, you made them feel beautiful alright, even in areas they felt they had absolutely no beauty in. No doubt, you made them feel like they matched your level of intelligence. Alright, you turned on their confidence, confidence enough to charm the world. And oh yes, you made them feel desired, far more desired by you than any other man they have ever met or believe they could ever meet. You're a genius, but you're also an absolute failure. Your inspirations are short-lived, your motivations groundless. And if you can't even keep someone who sticks by you ever so often, how can you convince students you meet twice a week? Even with you by their side, hopelessness will seep in again, and they will look to another for approval, another who's careful not to give it so easily, unlike you. Forget it, Victor. Just drop the idea. Go lose some weight.





My only rebuttal to Chloe's statement was: me. It was why I never penned the "theory" down on my blog in the first place. I took pride in myself as someone who could love oh so deeply, without feeling hatred for anyone or anything around me. I can forgive easily, grudges disappear within the hour. But I forget that I do hate something with an intense hatred that burns like a furnace which goes on night and day. I forget that there is something I have not and cannot forgive, despite the unusual magnanimity that has unwittingly become part of my personality after years of training in patience and love.










Myself.








When sorrow come, they come not in single spies, but in battalions. -William Shakespeare

And no, I won't ever need any woman to heal the gaping wounds in my heart. Haven't met one that knew about them anyway, much less bothered to tend to them. Even if I met one who was willing to, chances are I won't be attracted to her in the first place. - Valentino Casanova