Underneath the fancy clothes
A decaying body
An ugly heart
A wretched soul
Selfishness, anger, malice
Envy, jealousy, and pride
Reeling their ugly heads
Catching me unaware
Is this who I was?
Who I am?
Or what I have become?

But by this I know
Of this I can be certain
I have been saved by grace
And grace alone
An ugly heart
Given a makeover
A wretched soul
Given the light of day
Not because of who I was
Who I am
Or even who I will become

On that last day
His blood
His righteousness
His glory
Shall cover my sins
My guilt
My shame
My decaying body will be no more
My ugly heart no longer be
And my soul
My wretched soul
Will be forever renewed
And forever belong to Him

A confession from an emotional hoarder...

I'm an emotional hoarder--I'll admit to that. I've kept almost every single letter, card, postcard, and anything with sentimental value that you can think of for almost two decades. Not that I look at them often, but come the time of spring cleaning, I would most certainly find myself sitting on the floor and just read through the words handwritten by those who have come into my life one time or another.

Such sentimental items have, inevitably, decreased in number ever since the introduction of emails, e-cards, e-whatever. The only mail I get in the mailbox nowadays are bills, junk mail, and internet-shopped goodies. And even though I have 10 GB and counting of space in my email inbox, the majority of emails received fall into the following categories (in order of quantity): promotional material, work-related, prayer letters, and random emails from my husband. I can't remember the last time a friend had written just to say hi or to update on what's been happening in his/her life--heck, I can't remember when was the last time I had done the same!

The cyber world has made reaching another person so easy--too easy, in fact, unless you are determined not to let too much of your information seep through the packets of data being sent all around the world. With Facebook, I was able to get in contact with many long lost friends from primary school and high school years, which is so amazing! Yet at the same time, I feel more removed from them than I ever did... It was great to see where everyone is at, what everyone is doing after so many years, how their looks haven't changed, etc, etc, but to be utterly honest, after the first few Facebook messages along the lines of, "Oh my! Long time no see! It's so good to be in touch again! What's going on in your life? Here is what's going on in mine...", the communication kind of stops there. I can still like their photos, comment on their status updates, but who am I kidding if I think I can rekindle that old spark of friendship that we shared so many years ago? As a matter of fact, I actually really want to, but I also understand that we are all living our different lives in different places now, with our different friends, and unless we all share that same desire to rekindle old friendship, we can only remain as we are--Facebook friends with a history. A history that goes beyond the Facebook timeline.

But that's life, isn't it? We can't be everywhere all at once. We can't be friends with everybody at the same emotional level. We are so limited, and try as we may, we are unable to maintain the same depth of relationship with everyone except those few who stick by us even when the sky falls down. Yet at different points in time, all these friends have been a huge part of my life. I thank all of those who have left footprints in my heart over the years, who have helped me become the person I am today.

I remember fondly the days when we wrote letters on pretty letter papers to communicate. I miss the feeling of anticipation of receiving a reply, however long it took. I miss seeing handwriting that conveys emotions, instead of emoticons that I have trouble understanding sometimes. And I feel sorry to all the friends who have once been in my life but I failed to keep in touch with them as I should--when it was me who failed to call, or write, or email. I am sorry if I have disappointed you. And if you are still my friend despite all my failings, thank you for staying in touch. :-)

I saw a quote recently: "The past is a place that's very worthwhile visiting, but not worthwhile staying." I love reminiscing about the good old days, but I know I cannot forever stay in the past and wish things would still be the way they were. Yet I do hope that somewhere, someday, somehow, old friendships can be rekindled and we can reminisce together of what used to be, and look forward to what will become. Meanwhile, even just the odd email or Facebook message/comments will have to suffice. :-P

P.S. Wow, this has got to be the longest post on this blog to date. Thanks for reading if you got this far! ;-) Oh, and in case you were wondering, I used a photo of my cat because she, too, is an emotional hoarder--but the negative kind. She holds grudges.

A possible reason for why my car broke down this morning...

"Gumnut! Gumnut!" My daughter cried in her car seat as she watched the garage door close. She was looking forward to a day with her little friends at the child care centre, but our car decided to go on a strike and we weren't going anywhere. Not only so, I was told roadside assistance would arrive within 90 minutes. 90.

I had tried everything I could think of to start the car. Looked through the manual, called the men, searched google, and finally, called for roadside assistance (yes, in that sequence, don't ask me why). There was nothing more I could do, and that's what I told my daughter. Needless to say, she kept crying. "Look, sweetheart, there's nothing I can do now. We can't go to Gumnut today. The car is not working... But, we could pray (what, where did I get this idea from)? We could ask God to help us (yeah right, as if He would care about such mundane things)? I don't think the car is going to start, I mean, God *can* if He wants to, but yeah, let's pray..." (italics my thoughts)

So I prayed with my daughter. I prayed that somehow, the car would start, and we would be able to get to Gumnut. Yet as I prayed, I pretty much didn't believe it would happen. Why would God answer a prayer like that?

"Alright, I'm going to try start the car one last time (I really think this is pointless). If it doesn't start, we'll have to go back into the house okay?"

Garage opening, key in ignition, key turned, headlights flicker on/off noisily, and the car remained as it was (see, as if it would miraculously start).

"Sorry sweets, car isn't working!" As I turned from my daughter and was just about to close the garage door again, I almost couldn't believe my eyes. The roadside assistance car was reversing on to our driveway!!! I looked back at my daughter, "Look! God answered our prayer! Someone is here to fix our car! Yay!"

I had not expected assistance to arrive so quickly. It was within 15 minutes of my call for sure. Of course, having roadside assistance arrive early didn't mean the car would be fixed, yet for me, I was just amazed that they arrived exactly at the time after we prayed. Now, I know you may think this is all in my head, that if I hadn't prayed, assistance would have arrived at precisely that moment anyway, and you are probably right. Yet I don't think this is about my 'prayer' working, but the fact that God allowed me, and more importantly my daughter, to experience Him. For me, I prayed with little faith (if not none!), and had an expected answer in mind (the car would start miraculously) that I didn't expect to happen. Yet the outcome was indeed out of my expectations--I didn't have to wait long for help to arrive.

I am no expert in prayer. I don't pray often enough and I haven't worked out this 'prayer' thing around my head either, but I can confidently say that God listens to and answers our prayers. Yes, even a little girl's one. I don't know whether my daughter knows what praying really means, but I hope that one day, she may remember this little incident where we prayed, and God answered.

And the end of the story? Well, it turned out that our car had a flat battery, easily fixed. We got to Gumnut safe and sound, and my daughter was able to spend a lovely day with her friends there! :-)

How has God answered your prayer today?

P.S. I'm in no way implying that prayer is useless in the sense that things will happen even if we don't pray. God can choose to work through prayer (which I think is pretty awesome), but prayer is a big topic and probably warrants another post ;-)

Little Joys

What brings a smile to your face? What instantaneously, and without warning, makes you grin from ear to ear?

For me, it has to be those little moments I share with my family. The giggles from my almost 5-month-old when his hand touches my face, the smile of my almost 2-year-old when she is pleased with herself, the picture of seeing my husband, my kids and I just enjoying each other's company and doing silly things (as you do when kids are around)--these moments are just so precious, and each moment has me exclaiming: life is good!

When my daughter calls out for me to cuddle her, and I get to hold her tight as she plays with my hair--life is good. When my son is feeding, and I can feel his warmth as he clutches my finger in his hand--life is good. When my husband and I both have one child on our laps, and we can cuddle, play and laugh together--life is good.

Yet for every moment that makes me smile, that has me thinking over and over that life is good, I am gripped with fear that these moments won't last for ever. And the reality is, they can't. For one, my children will eventually grow up, and there will come a day when they don't want to be cuddled and kissed anymore (fair enough). For another, no one can predict what would happen to the world tomorrow, or to us.

But I don't want that fear to ruin these moments--these little joys in life that make our hearts glad. I'm learning to savor every drop of them, and at the same time, learning to be trusting in the one that holds the future. When life's turmoil comes my way, I want to be able to look back and smile no matter how hard and painful life gets...

What about you? What are the little joys in your life? Treasure them, cherish them, and be thankful for them. They are life's little energy boosters :-)

My kids are not born Christians

My kids are not born Christians.

I am a Christian. My husband is a Christian. We will raise our children in a Christian (and hopefully, godly) way. But in no way would that make them Christians. Nope, not at all. Going to church, listening to Bible stories, and knowing the 'right' answer to every Sunday school question will not get them into heaven, i.e. an eternal relationship with the God who created us, loves us, and saved us.

Does this surprise you? For those who know me, you're probably thinking, "Yeah right, as if you don't want your kids to be Christians!", and you're probably right. Of course I want my kids to be Christians. But I can't force them, and it's not up to me anyway. Each of my children will have to make his/her own choice, just as I have been able to make my own choice in becoming a Christian (thank you to my parents, though not Christians themselves, who allowed me this freedom!).

I don't know how many years I'll have to wait. I might die before any of my children become Christians. My only prayer is that my hubby and I, despite our sinfulness, weaknesses and mistakes, can reflect even just a little of God's great love so that they may be drawn to want to know Him. Then love Him. Then follow Him.

Misunderstanding

"How dare you allow your child to cry like that, and how dare you come sit at the table next to me!!!" This was the message I got as the lady stared at me with a big frown on her face.

I was out with my two kids a few days ago, and went to a food court cafe for a quick lunch. Pushing a pram with a crying baby with one hand and holding a toddler with the other, I was shown to a table by the wait staff. There were two elderly ladies on the adjacent table, so I apologized for the crying as I was fiddling with placing my toddler in the highchair. One lady just smiled, but the other gave me a very angry, disapproving look.

I was shocked. Here I was being courteous, and there was someone who didn't seem to understand the fact that I only had two hands. Furious, I asked to be moved to another table, stating that I thought I was disturbing other guests. And so we moved.

All was well outwardly, but my mind would not stop spinning. I was still furious at the lady's stare, and was thinking of whinging on Facebook (oh dear! How FB is really dominating our lives! But that's a topic for another day...), and how I would respond if she said anything to me about my crying baby. I kept glancing back to see if the lady was still giving me any more disapproving looks, but being short-sighted and inflexible with my neck muscles (after all, I'm not an owl) I couldn't really see much. I prayed that God would help me forgive and not think anymore of it, but during the whole 20 minutes, I just could not let the incident go. In the end I decided that before we left the cafe, I'd go over to the two ladies again. Not to retaliate with words, although that thought did cross my mind more than once, but to apologize again for disturbing them before. And that's exactly what I did.

I expected to be greeted with a frown again and was getting ready with a comeback (I never learn huh!), but the result was totally beyond my expectations. The lady actually responded, not exactly with a smile but still quite nicely, "Oh you were alright, it's just that I had a terrible experience at the mall yesterday!" "Oh, what happened?" I enquired, curious. The lady went on to explain how she encountered a kid who was screaming non-stop, but his mum actually thought him funny and did nothing to stop him for the whole time she was there. When she saw me and the crying baby, she automatically thought, "Oh no, not again!!!", and thus she looked so angry and unhappy.

We parted on friendly terms, and my daughter even got a smile out of the lady. I left the cafe feeling very different than I would otherwise have felt if I hadn't gone to speak with the ladies. It didn't take long to say sorry, but doing so saved me from an unwarranted period of frustration (I admit I tend to overreact). It could have gone the other way, I suppose, if the lady responded differently, but I felt it was worth resolving the issue even if it were just for my own peace of mind.

This incident was not life changing on any terms, but it led me to contemplate on how we can often jump to conclusions too quickly. When we see a mother with a toddler throwing a tantrum in the supermarket isle, do we automatically assume the kid is 'naughty' and not disciplined? When we encounter a grumpy person on the bus, do we automatically judge the person in disapproval? Behind every face there is a story, and while it would be impossible to spend time with every individual and hear their stories, the world may just be that little more empathetic if we were willing to look beyond the surface even just for a few minutes...

Path

 

Life is a path well trodden,

But each man must walk his own.

*******************************************************

I couldn't articulate my thoughts into another poem except for the first two lines, so have given up being 'poetic' and will just type them out normally instead...

As I watched my daughter running down the path the other day, it came to my realisation that, as much as I would be reluctant to let go, my daughter must walk her own path as she grows up. As a mother it's normal to worry for your children--will they get sick, will they meet bad people and be led astray, will they be able to handle life's obstacles... The list never ends, and you worry for life, literally--well, at least I think I will. 

Yet as much as I worry, I cannot direct nor change my daughter's course of life. 

Accepting the fact that my daughter must walk her own path of life, I contemplated how she could trace and learn from the footsteps before her, and how I'd urge her to leave behind footsteps worthy of others to follow. But she is human, and she is not perfect. She will make mistakes, she will stumble and fall. The verdict? That's just the way life is. C'est la vie.

And then it came to me. There is one path that none but one had walked, and none can ever follow. It's the path that led to ultimate suffering and ultimate sacrifice. But that's not all. It also led to ultimate life. It dawned on me that, if only she can know this path, and Him who walked on it, then she would know she has never been, nor ever will be alone.

I will continue to worry--I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't. But I am comforted by the fact that the Author of Life has got everything under control, and that He will never leave my daughter's side. I can only pray that one day, she too will come to know Him and the meaning of the path He had walked.

I Remember Love

This is a song my hubby and I wrote for our parents back when we got married in 2005. The title (not to be confused with Sarah Dawn Finer's or Air Supply's songs) was inspired by a story I read in "Chicken Soup for the Soul"--a book I read back in my high school days. The story, titled "All I Remember", spoke of how the author saw her mother, who had suffered Alzheimer's Disease and passed away, in a vision. Below is a quote from the book...

"I said, 'Oh Mother, I'm so sorry you had to suffer with that terrible disease.' She tipped her head slightly to one side... Then she smiled--a beautiful smile--and said very distinctly, 'But all I remember is love.'

Those words stayed with me a long time. I remember thinking--if ever one day I forget everything, I hope I would remember love.

The love shown to us by our parents and people closest to us is what shapes us into the person we have become today. And this is what this song is about.

***************************

I remember Love
I remember your touch
The warmth of your hands
Made all pain disappear

I remember Love
I remember your gentleness
The sound of your voice
Whispering my name

If you ask me
I remember Love
Etched on my mind
An age-old picture
Whose colours never fade
Only grow richer
With each passing day

I remember Love
I remember your voice
The voice that
Today has slowly become mine

I remember Love
I remember your eyes
That saw me through all these years
Through all joys and pains

If you ask me
I remember Love
Etched on my mind
An age-old picture
Whose colours never fade
Only grow richer
With each passing day

I remember Love
I remember your tears
The tears that showed me
You really cared

We will never forget
All the times we’ve been through
Sunshine or rain
Made us who we are

If you ask me
I remember Love
Etched on my mind
An age-old picture
Whose colours never fade
Only grow richer
With each passing day

I may not remember much
I may not remember much
But I remember love.

(c) Shadow & Hub 2005

*****************

Teardrop in a Mother's Eye

A song I wrote many years ago... Dedicated to all mums, and dads :-)

A baby's first cry
Teardrop in his mother's eye
A tear shed in joy and relief
To celebrate the gift of life

A toddler's first step
Teardrop in his mother's eye
A tear shed in joy and excitement
As the child stumbles into her arms

Oooh... Day by day
The child's feet grew stronger and stronger
And he stands tall
As his mother watches him in pride
With a teardrop in her eye

Then the years went by
Faster than the blink of an eye
There was once a time of separation
And a time to be together again

And yet there came
Times of misunderstanding
When harsh words were spoken in anguish
And the two worlds didn't seem to meet
One took the other's love for granted
And the other wondered when
This child of hers--
Yes, still a child in her eyes--
Will ever understand her love for him

How can one comprehend
The depth of a mother's love
The love she so timelessly gives
And the sacrifices she makes

Through these years
A child may never understand
Until that day
When he sees through his mother's eyes
With that teardrop in her eye

(c) Shadow 2003

Chasing Bubbles

Why do we chase after things that won't last,
Or long for what cannot fulfill?
Why do we yearn for what we do not have,
But give little thought to what we already possess?
Why do we get distracted by what's on the outside,
But not take time to look deep into the beauty of someone's heart?
Why do we live chasing bubbles,
Only to find them pop into nothingness one by one?