Further In

I just received a notification from an old primary/secondary school acquaintance asking me to add her to my friends network. She left me a message too. This is all very surreal. We were best friends from the ages 7-12 thereabouts but we quickly grew apart when we reached secondary school. Towards the end, we were barely on speaking terms and I haven’t seen much of her in some 5-6 years now.

I looked at her network and recognised many people I went to school with years ago. It’s funny how friendships in high school change. I never had much in common with these girls and I think I have even less in common with them now. I know if we were to meet on the street we would probably make awkward small talk about what we’re doing with work or studies before moving on back to our own little worlds. I admit I don’t have many friends from school days that I still keep in touch with on a pseudo-regular basis. The ones that I do, well they know who they are and possibly the main reason we’re still in touch is that they are largely unpretentious and conversation with them still comes easy. Incidentaly the majority of them are or have become Christians although I don’t think they were growing too much in the faith when I first knew them. That has changed now though, and their dedication to God that I see is a great comfort and joy to me.

So with some degree of trepidation I added this person to my network. I no longer care for her or most of the people on her list and I’m sure they feel the same about me. We move in very different circles now. I suppose I only did it for old time’s sake. We had fun when we were little, having sleepovers and making up stories about our stuffed animals. And although the bond we had no longer exists I somehow feel a sense of responsibility to be a witness of God’s love to her. Eventhough I don’t feel it, love is about action rather than emotion. I know I can put past differences aside and show love to her if I’m given the opportunity.

I'm writing more verse these days from the looks of it. It's been so long. I used to write poems all the time. I even personalized them and gave them away as gifts. I hardly ever kept copies which I somewhat regret now as it would be fun to go back and read all the things I wrote as a pre-teen.

I'm getting back in the flow ever so slowly. Whoever reads this, thanks for bearing with me.

Beneath the rich, dark earth they sleep
As time alone thus weathers stone
Through grasses long and lush I creep
Past crosses on which sunlight shone
Life visits death in reverence and leaves behind remembrance.

I was finally motivated enough to visit the little graveyard near campus this evening. I'd been meaning to take a walk there for the past 4-5 years but never actually did. I actually think I know someone who is buried there, a very old, deeply spiritual man who preached once or twice at our campus Christian Fellowship. I still see his wife from time to time. They are from a different period when life was more simple, people were more polite and everything was straightforward and no nonsense. I tried to find his grave but failed. 

It was already a little past 6pm but the sun was still beating down rentlessly. I had to walk with care as three quarters of the graveyard were overgrown with kneehigh weeds and grass and I often couldn't see what I was about to step on. The majority of the people buried there were Indian with a sprinkling of English or perhaps Eurasian names. Many of the graves implied that the person laid to rest there was poor as their only markers were plain wooden crosses with the painted inscriptions all but faded away.

Largest of all was an unmarked tomb fixed with two crosses leaning at precarious angles. The tomb of a married couple perhaps? Prettiest of all was a heavily engraved celtic cross, also unmarked. Perhaps the most touching of all was the inscription upon a stone slab set in the ground, all but invisible unless you looked downward, in memory of a daughter who died in childhood. And another tombstone in memory of 'Rosaline', beloved wife and mother who left this earth a little over a hundred years ago. 

Right at the end of the graveyard stood a slender, wooden cross that reached way up to the sky. In all the years I drove by I never noticed it before. It stood there, watching over the graves as if to say that death is only for a little while for Christ has overcome the grave.I always feel a twinge of sadness whenever I read a particularly moving epitaph especially if it came from a time when poetic verse and scriptural references were the norm instead of what is now a series of numbers separated by a hyphen. I always wonder when eternity comes if I may meet the person who inspired the loving memories and be able to tell them I was there, I wondered about you and I remembered you.

My roommate and I were nattering away over dinner last night, talking about favourite fairytales from our childhood and about one in particular that involved three wishes. Then idly she asked me, "Really, what would you do if you had three wishes."

"Wish for more wishes, doesn't everyone do that?"

Seriously though, my mind raced in all directions dreaming of what I would possibly wish for. Assuming wishing for more wishes and changing free will (eg. making someone love me) isn't part of the deal my most probable three wishes would go something like this.

I wish I could do something I love like being part of a worship team that travels the world ministering to people through music, telling them about Jesus and conducting concerts and workshops at any church in any city that would have us. In between I would free-lance in photography and writing. As part of the wish, my thesis would be taken care of so that I could be free to pursue my real passions.

I would wish for courage to share the Gospel with my family and to anyone in general. Courage to do the right thing all the time regardless of the retribution. Courage to speak my dialects and Mandarin. That may sound funny but most of the time I don't speak much dialect because my command of it is embarassingly poor. I have to rack my brain to come up with the appropriate word and then say it without my intonation playing tricks on me as it often does. But if I had the courage to try I probably would improve and if I could improve, I could strike up conversations with so many more people who don't speak English at all and I could actually tell them about Jesus in a language familiar to them.

Finally, I would wish that my parents could love each other again. I know that goes against the human will but I really wish that would be possible. The way I see them treat each other sometimes makes me doubt that they still love each other despite some 33 years of marriage. 

Ultimately I know a fairygodmother isn't going to materialize out of thin air, wave a wand over my head and grant me my wishes. But talking with my roommate made me realize I don't need a fairygodmother, a genie in a lamp or any manner of wish-granting manifestations. That is because I have a God who is real and alive, who doesn't limit me to three wishes but instead allows me unlimited prayers. A God whose love for me is so deep and wide and high that it's incomprehensible listens to all my prayers and answers them according to His perfect, pleasing will. I know the answer may not be the one I seek but I can trust that it is always, always the best answer for me because no one else could know me better than the One who caused me to be.

Created to fly
With grace and beauty they soar
towards their Maker

While walking back the other day I took a look up at the sky and saw something quite amazing to me that I actually stopped in my tracks. Three large formations of tiny birds were flying high above me. There was literally a swarm of them. I watched as within seconds they seamlessly blended together to form one huge flock flying in perfect coordination. I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of their flight. I stood and watched until they flew away.

I am one who always looks up at the sky. I have seen unusual cloud formations, countless rainbows and double rainbows, the moon in all her full brilliance, unexpected shooting stars and beautiful fiery sunsets. Each experience fills me with a measure of awe. Of course it's particularly dangerous when I'm driving but thank God I haven't been in any accidents yet! I even get so excited over a gorgeous sunset that it frustrates me when others around me don't seem to appreciate it like I do, to them it appears almost commonplace.

The sky fills me with so much wonder, it's true. But the one thing that I hope to see if I live till then, is the coming of my Lord on the clouds of heaven. I can bet on that day, everyone will be doing as I do daily - looking up towards that great expanse of sky.

I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God. 

~ 1 Timothy 2:9-10  

I've been reading a lot about modesty in the past few days, particularly the modesty posts at girl talk. It's not the first time I've read such posts but I think this time I'm taking them more to heart. When it comes to dressing modestly I'm guilty as charged because I dress for comfort, which in this heat usually means a spaghetti strap top and jeans, without giving much thought to the potential it may have to cause temptation to men. I also dress to look good but I don't often consider the implications behind this – whether I only dress to promote my looks or whether I'm dressing to reflect the appearance of a modest woman. 

I don't want to dress in a way that may cause my Christian brothers or even any other men to stumble. I'm sure they are already bombarded hard enough from regular women, they don't need me, a supposed haven from temptation, to make it even more difficult. It's going to be really hard to sacrifice some comforts but hopefully the returns, though I may never see them, will outweigh the cost. And considering they do their part to take care of me, treating me like a sister with absolute purity (1 Timothy 5:2), I should do my part and not throw a wrench in their spiritual wellbeing.   

It's funny though, reading the most recent post on wedding gowns I realized that in all my idle moments of fantasizing about my future wedding attire; strapless, spaghetti strap, backless even sleeveless wedding gowns never once appealed to me. Apart from the generic look I think they portray, I would feel a bit odd standing before a pastor and an entire congregation being pledged in holy matrimony in a gown that reveals a bit too much. How hypocritical of me though! I guess I really need to get serious about dressing modestly. And for the record I quite fancy an off-shoulder long-sleeved gown, something celtic or medieval-esque.   

I really like the way The Message describes verse 10 as 'doing something beautiful for God and becoming beautiful doing it.' After all, God is the creator of beauty and true beauty comes from Him. 

I guess I should invest in some nice long-sleeved tops when the next sale rolls around! 

I wrote something that got published in the papers today! Our most-read local daily has an online blog that anyone can post to. They pick 3-4 posts to be published everyday and the best one of the day wins a cash prize.I wrote a post two days ago and when I checked the papers today my post was printed and I’d won the money! That really made me happy. It’s not so much the money, which is slightly less than what I usually spend in a week, but more the fact that something I wrote got published. It wasn’t even edited much either.

I wrote about the issue I have with text-messaging and how it affects our communication. I chose to write about that because a few articles on that subject were published in the papers and I realized for this particular blog, it helps if you choose ‘newsworthy’ subjects to write on rather than for example, angsty personal issues. What’s weird is that as soon as I got the idea to write it I thought I might actually win if I used that idea. I was so eager to get online and write it down because I felt sure it had a good chance of winning. After I wrote my entry and posted it I continued to feel that it could very possibly become the best of the day. And I was right! Thank you God! I feel so blessed. I called my mother to tell her and when I described the post I wrote she said she already read it but didn’t know it was mine (I used a pseudonym) and that she had mentally agreed with everything I wrote as she read it.

I’m not sure what to do with the money yet. I will tithe part of it and I’m thinking of either giving part of it to my mother or use that part to buy her something for Mother’s Day. What’s left will probably go towards my living expenses or to buy stock for online auctions. 

It has been so many years since something I wrote was actually published in the newspapers or in print as opposed to online. It’s been even longer since I was paid for something I wrote. The feeling is amazing. I’m starting to feel that I can say writing is one of my gifts. I always hesitated to call it a gift or a talent because I never knew if what I write is worth anything or if it’s merely navel gazing. I mean everyone has a blog these days, everyone writes. What makes me so different from the mediocre? I like what I write but I’m sure everyone feels that way about their own work so how would I know if what I write has value, the ability to touch or to help someone. All I know is that I’ve always enjoyed stringing words together whether in a short story, a journal entry or a letter. I get a small thrill in choosing the right word or phrasing a sentence in a particular way that results in something that reads well. I guess the only way to find out if my writing has any potential is to keep on practising. After all, if you don’t use the gifts God has given, you may be in danger of having them taken away from you altogether.

For everyone who has will be given more, and he will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him.

~ Matthew 13:29 (NIV)