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.

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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.

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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

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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?

Trust

As I was watching my daughter wobble her way around the house today, it suddenly dawned on me how precious trust is in our relationship.

My baby had only just started walking about two to three weeks ago, and now goes exploring everywhere in the house she could possibly get to. With her new found skills, she also enjoys running after our cat. However, our cat isn't exactly the friendliest in the neighbourhood, and even my 17 month old knows that. It was from her running towards the cat, then running back to me and using my legs as her refuge that I realised how much trust she has in me. It is the trust that she can always go to mummy, and that mummy will be there for her to protect her, whenever she encounters something scary. There is no doubt, no second thoughts. She will go explore, yet not stray too far, and come straight back to mummy if something isn't quite right...

I treasure these moments in my heart, and I wanted to write them down before I forget. To know that my daughter trusts me so reinforces how important it is and will be for me to be worthy of her trust. Furthermore, it also made me consider my own trust in the heavenly Father. Do I trust Him like my child trusts me? I think not, and that is a lesson that I'll gladly continue to learn...