Thoughts for the Week

I hate fights with the people that I love. BUt everyone now and then, one pops up. Sometimes for the most ridiculous of reasons. Somehow, when that happens, I just feel this burning feeling in my heart, and it really feels so acidic it tears its way right through me and eats everything up inside. I suppose that's what pain and hurt feel like. It's usually accompanied by feelings of deep bitterness, "why mes" and "what nows". Sometimes, it ends up with me feeling like the world is collapsing in around me, despite the fact that I'm desperately trying to prop it up with little maxims of faith and Scripture. Those support beams don't hold, and everything comes crashing down. A good night's sleep, even amidst the chaos, tends to be the best remedy, because the next day, even though you still feel shitty, is still another day.

But still it's funny that in the midst of this rubble, a thought struck me- God really does use disasters to draw us closer to Him. Sometimes, no matter how we discipline and regulate ourselves according to 'spiritual regimes' during the good times, we always end up with some form of complacency and self-reliance. When disasters strike, all we have left is really to pray and beg for His mercy. I went to mass last night, and the priest said, over and over again, "Lord have mercy upon us." When things go wrong, and people look untrustworthy and doubtful, only God remains constant and consistent. His word assures us of His promises and His character, which will never change. He is totally trustworthy. And there's something about His house, and the gathering of people seeking Him, that is equally assuring. I'm praying for disaster to go away, for crisis to be resolved, yes. But I'm also praying for a touch of His presence, and I'm thanking Him for drawing me near amidst the problems of my life, and that in those, He doesn't reject me or push me away even though I have so very often, turned away from Him in my moments of self-confidence and complacency. Instead, His arms are wide open, inviting and welcoming, just like the arms of the prodigal son's father who saw his son at a distance and ran to him.

When all we have is gone and we're left bankrupt, and the fair-weathered friends we make have deserted us, and all we can do is plea with our father for mercy, what a surprise to find Him waiting and holding out His arms of love to receive us. How unworthy I am, to dare to approach someone so generous, beautiful, kind and forgiving! And my unworthiness makes His grace all the more praiseworthy and magnificent.

I know that God will make a way out of this situation, however hopeless and seemingly impossible. I believe that God can heal invidivuals and relationships, immeasurably beyond what we ask and hope for. Yes, He can do all these things. And even out of this mess, God can bring something beautiful to pass.

Growing Up

Here's a blogpost written by my sister on her blog, which I really enjoyed, and thought makes good sense, because it's grounded in a confidence and faith in our best friend. At the same time, it's written with a girl's voice, one that is distinctly hers, and in many ways, unimitable. This is also a piece of shamless publicity for her blog. Nonetheless, I hope it speaks and ministers to your heart like it has, mine.

today i learnt that i actually have grown up. as much as when each year passes and birthdays come (or maybe not, in my case) and go, i've never really felt any sharp transition from a state of youth into young adulthood or adolescence or whatever. every year was just another year. but something that i've learnt over these many 'another years' is that i truly have grown into a different person. not different as in a 360 degree turnaround of course, because no matter what essentially i still am who i am, but its more of the way i perceive things, the way i handle things, the way i react to things - these have changed over the years. and thats why i realise that i have indeed grown. im no longer the girl that used to think of fun and play and friends and disney and nice stationery and having my prince charming ride a white horse to come find me - sure, all of that is still somewhere in me, but right now im no longer that girl because now i know that fun and play come hand in hand with the right timing and the right attitude, that disney will always bring out the child in me but i can appreciate it for so much more than i used to, that nice stationery is no longer at the top of my impulse buy list because i know that money is hard earned and not dropped from the sky, and that prince charming - well, now i know if God does have a prince charming for me he will be the most charming of all, whether he comes riding on a white horse or not.



when people say that i am idealistic, i dont reject that because i know myself that i am. but perhaps the change over the years is that i am no longer an idealist with no sense of where my feet is upon the ground, with no sense of practicality nor awareness. right now i am an idealist who knows this world, and its evils and its twisted, sick ways. i am an idealist who has seen and experienced things that have hurt me and have brought me to the ground. i am an idealist who has been disappointed and had my dreams smashed into a million pieces over and over again. but no matter what, i am an idealist because i believe in the good in everyone because of the love that God has poured forth so majestically from His gates in heaven. i stick to my principles because i believe that imperfect beings can show perfect love because our God can empower us in ways that no one can fathom. and i try and try again because i believe that our God is a God of second chances.

so we're not perfect - but does that matter? what matters is we try to strive with what we can, with all our might, towards perfection, because God has promised that He will give us perfection the day we enter His gates. while we are on this earth, what is the point in being disillusioned and blinding yourself with hurt and sorrow and pain? what is the point of being bitter and thinking day after day, that no one cares about you and the world is a selfish place? the negative thoughts pervade our minds but we have the choice to thrash them into the recycle bins of our being. we have the choice to choose between to love or to hate, to try or to give up.

i admit i used to judge alot. inside my head of course, so that no one would know and judge ME for judging. haha ironic isnt it. i used to blame people for certain decisions they make, because i expected them to know better, to know what is right, to do what i thought was the right thing to do. but maybe its one thing that jc has taught me. to see things from other people's perspectives. or rather, to understand that other people DO have their right to their choices and points of view, and not everything i say is the gospel truth - not even close to that. nowadays when i encounter those situations, its no longer that indignant judging that surges up inside of me, but rather a quiet and silent prayer to God, to assure myself that He does know best and that He wants people to learn through different experiences. and a silent note to myself to remember to pray for that person. to be honest, i am pleased with this new found sense of maturity. thinking back on my past actions, it was thoroughly childish and unchristianlike. even though once in awhile, the judgemental mini me does find its way into my head, now i know that i have the ability, the choice, to squash her back down where she belongs.

from time to time when people make random statements about me, i tend to ignore most of them because most of them just reflect how little those people understand who i truly am. maybe no one knows. maybe its a secret between God and i, who i really am. maybe it is even a mystery to me, because God's plan to mould me is still unknown to everyone but Himself. meanwhile, perhaps i am still searching for who i really am. but in the midst of searching, i have found bits and pieces of that person that i am to be. small steps of maturity toward a dark tunnel that i am to step toward. its the small things that keep me going, and piece bits of myself together.

small things like the experience of working, like family, like friends, like music, like the still small voice inside of me that only i can hear.

and slowly, step by step, i am inching towards heaven being on the inside of me.

My Dad

Today, I want to talk about my dad.

My dad is a full time staff with the Singapore Navigators, and has been for the past 25-26 years I estimate. When I was a kid, I vividly remember our little 5 room HDB flat being packed full of korkors and jiejies who would sit all over the floor of our house, with pens furiously jotting away as the listened transfixed to my dad teaching the Bible from the middle of the living room. I would be seated in someone's lap, the designated 'babysitter' for the evening, listening to my dad machine-gun rapid fire his way through a session on Psalms or Matthew and marvel at how he captured everyone's attention. As a younger man, my dad led the now-defunct Military Navigators, of which I don't have very strong memories. Subsequently, he and my mom, upon returning from further studies in South Carolina, led the student ministry at the Singapore Polytechnic. There, Saturday mornings were spent at large group sessions where the Bible was taught in conjunction with worship, small group prayer, and then long long sessions of basketball, captain's ball and soccer. Somehow, the afternoons would fade ever so quickly, and time just faded away on Saturdays.

As I grew through secondary school, I watched as my parents did marriage counselling, consulting with couples and groups of couples who met with them to pray and do Bible study, and as my dad stopped doing student ministry, I realised how much I missed having our house full of students eager to fellowship with each other, and hear the teaching of the Word. In addition, Dad started to write his series of DIY books and devotionals. They started as little memoirs of lessons he'd learnt over the years, but they quickly grew into a respectable collection of literature, which I fondly call 'toilet literature' since they were lined up for personal meditation whilst seated upon the throne. Although I never said it, and more often than not, voiced my frustration with my dad for his bad grammar and problematic sentences, I admired him for his courage and his willingness to share his life experiences and Bible knowledge. He possessed an innovative and entrepreneurial streak that I had not seen in many people - once, he even published a book of memoirs of his friend's lives and experiences in the faith, documenting their struggles and triumphs if only to encourage others to persevere in the faith. Indeed, he was "consider[ing] how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds" (Hebrews 10:24)

My dad is also a champion of books. He loves to read, and is always buying more books. Visitors to our place always comment on the soaring bookshelf that towers against the staircase to the second floor of our home, and it really is a testament of my dad's love for reading and learning. ONe legendary story records that he once found this book he really liked, and in his own quirky fashion, he went to all the LIFE bookstores in Singapore and bought the few copies of the book that remained in stock so as to give them away as gifts for others to read (since it was quite an old book,). LIFE bookstore, thinking that the book had resurged in popularity or something, ordered more copies. However, as it was an old work, it didn't sell as well, and the book's price fell steadily. My dad then gleefully bought more of the same book to give away. In any of my dad's sermons, you can be sure to see him flash a list of "recommended readings" before or after the sermon if only to publicise for good Christian literature. As it stands, his book of the month, I believe is Philip Yancey's latest book on prayer.

Through the years, my dad got involved with other things: taking on a leadership role with the Navigators serving as a senior staff, taking on the portfolio of the missions director and pioneering his idea of "missions as a second career", taking on an eldership in the church and being a strong support for our newly installed pastor, mentoring younger Nav staff, leading the church care group ministry and being responsible for a new service, developing his niche trait for training Christian mentoring, developing discipleship programs for churches and pastors as a consultant, writing more books, preaching different sunday engagements, being a dad to 4 very different children at different stages in life, being a faithful and loving husband, a fillial son, and even just faithfully leading a discipleship group of cancer patients and taxi drivers.

I see in my dad a man who had the humility to let go and trust God for his life. In my eyes, I see him as someone who wasn't afraid to recognise that our little dreams count for absolutely nothing, and the good deeds we do are but "filthy rags" in His sight. My dad likes to boast that "no other job is worth it" than doing God's work, and that even at his age, there're still so many things he's learning about his own walk.


I could go on with more anecdotes and stories about my dad, but I should stop somewhere. So I'll stop here. But let me say that my dad has been a real example for me to follow - not because he pursues success or achievements in the eyes of man, but in God's eyes. And for that, I'm immensely grateful for his life and his legacy upon mine.

Grace

Grace:

1.
that which affords joy, pleasure, delight, charm, sweetness, loveliness
2.
good will, loving-kindness, mercy, etc.
3.
kindness of a master towards a slave, by analogy, comes to signify the kindness of God to man
4.
kindness bestowed upon someone undeserving; undeserved favour

Dryness of the Holy Spirit

According to Jim Cymbala, pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle, an untrained pastor who now leads a highly successful and GOd-centred church in the inner city portion of New York's Brooklyn, churches today severely lack the distinguishing feature that makes them pleasing to God - the presence of the Holy Spirit. Today, his wife conducts the immensely popular, Grammy-award, Dove-award winning choir, the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir in spite of not being trained formally. Jim Cymbala is author of "Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire" and "Fresh Faith".

Cymbala says that "technicians have invaded the church" with more methodologies, organisational management strategies, doctrinal statements, creeds and worthless theological specifities when what we really need is the Holy Spirit to do a work in our churches and lives. Do we really need another bible translation or another worship style? Do we really need more concordances, more youth programs and other methods? The early church, the Welsh Revival, the Great Awakening, the Second Great Awakening, the New York revivals by Moody and other crusade movements weren't brought about whilst someone was preaching, whilst someone was worshipping, or when some band was playing. Rather, it was born when God's people were praying.

Amen to that, let us start there then, with more prayer so that the Holy Spirit will rise and move in our churches.