Why We Must Thrive

In the face of tragedy and despair, we often ask ourselves:
How will I survive this?

But is merely surviving enough?

Death is part and parcel of life.
So is suffering, pain, heartache, separation, and disease.
But to simply lie down and admit defeat to the infirmities of life would be totally unfair to our Creator.


With each successive brush with the issue of mortality, I have come to notice that there is a pattern in my reaction:

Shock
Anger
Grief
Despair
Numbness
More grief
Surrender
and finally, a passionate gusto to grab life by the balls and LIVE IT UP.

And then, quite possibly, the cycle repeats at a lower intensity.

Each person reacts seemingly differently, and yet there are distinct similarities.
For those who must continue our journey can only do so by finding a reason.



Life needs a purpose.
You cannot just live it blindly.
But you don't need to sweat it either.
Because sometimes all you need to do to find that reason to live your life... is to take one breath at a time.



****


When I first heard the news of Edwin's demise a few days ago, I went into immediate shock and denial.
But when grief finally found me, the only way to drive it out was to cry out to God for peace.
And it came.
As sure as the next morning.


I fear for those who think they have to bear the grief alone.
For that is entirely untrue.
The biggest lie you can EVER tell yourself is that you are alone.
We are more alike than you can imagine.
You and me.
Our hearts break with the same intensity.
They just do not appear to be the same sometimes.
But in reaching out to one another, we can find solace.

That is why God created communities.
That is what the church is all about.
In this close-knit, albeit imperfect network of human relations, we find our purpose in life - to learn to love each other, to enrich others' lives.... to bear with each other.
To give and receive.

And in that act, somehow, we will not just survive, but thrive.

****


Rest in peace Edwin. Till we meet again...

Rest My Dear Brother, Rest.

Reuben would've turned a quarter of a century old today.



Instead, he will remain 23 in our hearts and minds always.
And the hole in our hearts and lives will never be filled.

My New Ride!

Been just a flurry of activities since I got back to bkk.
At first, it felt kinda strange and slightly depressing (the night I got back) - being suddenly all alone, after having the company of my parents for the last month.... but I think I'm adjusting back to being alone again.

Proof that despite my extrovertness, I am a true introvert - I love my space and alone-time. :)



So... yesterday, with the help of a friend from church (thanks Bun!), I managed to purchase a brand new Yamaha Fino! And of course He christened it with showers of blessings from above as soon as we bought it and Bun drove it back to my place from the store. Heh.

Without further ado, I give you.....
FOXY FINO!!!

Ain't she a beauty? :)
Complete with cute box & tiny windshield. Ehehehehe....
I decided on brown despite being tempted by a sexy hottt pink one... cuz I figured the less attention I draw to myself/mybike the less likely to be pulled over by cops and the less likely bike thieves will try to steal my bike. (YES, I bought a chain lock too - u can see it in the pic if u look closely.)
Anyway, brown is totally retro... AND it's the colour of CHOCOLATE. How can u beat that????

Now... before you get all paranoid and give me the too-familiar lecture about how dangerous driving around bkk is... lemme just say - Foxy Fino is a neighbourhood fox. No main roads or highways. Only back sois. I even bought a Bangkok street map (it's a thick book not unlike the Singapore Street Directory) to map my way around the little sois behind my house.



Now, you'll have to excuse me - it's time to explore the neighbourhood and have some lunch! :)

Imperfect Perfection.

Some of the most beautiful music I've heard is not perfect.
Like a note sung slightly too high.
Or an intake of breathe too audible in a vocal track.
Or one pizzicato-ed note just out of time.
In fact, without the little hiccups that are barely detected, the song would somehow not be as perfect.
You know what I mean?


So it is, I believe, with our relationships.
It is in the imperfections of our own characters...
... and the imperfections in which we interact with each other
that we are made some kind of perfect whole.

Thus the idea of community.
Thus the idea of love.

The words that cannot leave these lips...

People who know me may find this hard to believe..., but the true reason I write/blog is because so often the words form in my brain and twirl around in my mouth, but never leave my lips.

Why?
Perhaps it's some of the leftover shyness I had as a child.
Or maybe writing it feels a little more detached, hence safer.

There is also a kind of beauty in words.
And I'm not one of those people who can muster together strings of word that can be coherently verbalized out loud on a whim.
Most times, the words churn around in my mind for a while before they can settle in some kind of sense.
And then they lie plastered on the inside of my lips.
They just won't exit.
At times some other words do instead.


Above all, and I think this idea will probably resonate with many other people who write or use creative outlets, expressing oneself in some roundabout manner allows the option for the people around us to care.
Without the fear of immediate rejection.

It's like saying, "Hey, here are the words that show my heart on a string.
Reply if you understand and care for me."


I guess it's just really, really, REALLY hard for us to actually come out and say things like that.

I Hear Music!

Some people see pictures and colours.

Despite being a pretty visual person myself, I sure do hear music.
All the time.

Ask me - at any random moment - to sing the song I have in my head.
I might not always be able to tell you the title and artist, but I can assure you I always have a song in my head.
I'm not just talking about the tune either.
We're talking full-blown, down to the instruments and little nuances type of music.



Sometimes I wake in the morning with echoes of an orchestra in my ears.
The roar gives in to silence so suddenly that I feel jolted to consciousness by the mere contrast.

Life After Death

Her fingers were soft and bony at the same time.
As I fought back tears, she patted my hand... reassuring me instead.

How strange, I thought, that she should be comforting me instead when she is the one in pain.


Death has a different flavour when it comes slowly.

When death came suddenly, we reacted with equal force.
We raised our fists to the sky in indignation and anger, only to fall into heavenly arms in defeat and surrender.

Life, in turn, had to be fought for.
Thickly, as if underwater, we carried on with our daily rituals, looking for reasons to live on.


I found myself loving life with gusto.
Resolute that no matter how tough the going got, I would always find a way to live life passionately and fully.
Because we never know when life may be cut short.
Death is just a part of life - we all die in the end.

But another part of life... is disease.
Youth is so often taken for granted - not just because we seem to have boundless amounts energy and optimism for the future, but also because our bodies have not begun to break down yet.

We make silly choices and develop hazardous habits that often takes a toll on our bodies when we are much older.

By then, it is too late to say, "Oh, I really shouldn't have done that."
Instead, we must deal with the consequences of those poor choices.

This is but a fact of life.



But my grandma has always been strong.
Strong-minded, strong-willed, and always bustling in the kitchen.
I remember the big difference in her character when she accepted God somewhere in my teenage years.
Her life, as far as I remember, has been one of service to others.
So I know how hard it is for her to be sick - waiting for death to finally come for her.
Not able to cook for others or wash the dishes.
Instead, having to depend on the love and kindness of the people around her.
It must be hard for her.
It is already infinitely hard for the people who love her to see her like this.


And as I held my grandma's hand, and watched my mother cry because grandma was suffering, a thought flew through my mind:

The wages of sin... is death?
Perhaps not immediately...
Because at this point, I think that death might be a welcome relief to this disease.
Maybe in this case, the wages of sin is pain and suffering, and any imperfection of life.




The last weekend of our Sydney trip, we visited the local Adventist church.
And as I sat quietly (albeit uncharacteristically silently) listening to their Sabbath school lesson... they briefly talked about sin.


What is sin?

Theologically there are many types of sin defined in the bible.
But the one that remains the most "personal" to me is the definition that sin is "falling short of the mark".
It is anything which separates us from God.

I've begun to taste the truth in this.
The consequences of sin can be seen in all aspects of life - for ALL have sinned, and fallen short of the glory of God.
These consequences include:
- broken relationships with our fellow man.
- the slow but sure degeneration of our bodies which lead to either disease, or death, or both.


Watching my grandma suffer physical pain as cancer slowly takes over her body, and then the emotional pain her loved ones go through as well - her childrens' eyes grow sad and cold with grief over her suffering... I understood.

This is the promise - the wonderful gift that God has given to us, made possible by His Son.
That there IS a world with none of this - a world with no sin - where we are no longer separated from the Life-Giver. Where the imperfections of this world that plague us, will be no more.
Neither death, nor disease, nor emotional suffering.



This morning, I awoke to the news that Michael Jackson had died.
Funny, because through a thick haze of sleep, my immediate reaction was one of shock but compassion:
Good for him, I thought, because he surely was not happy living his life here on earth.
His suffering has now come to an end.

Many say that MJ was "wacko".
But I think he was merely a person who believed in the beauty and innocence of life, and that longing for perfection was what seemed so strange to the rest of a disbelieving world.
He could not live his life "normally" because he was one of the few people who had the heart of a child. He pursued perfection through all the wrong means possible, seeking healing by sinking into repression/denial, drugs to numb the pain...
In other words - when faced with the realities of life, imperfect in all its facets, he simply could not deal.
(Don't quote me - that's just my opinion!)




The issues of death and the imperfection of life... so real and so tangible to me, especially in the last few years, have only led me to think this:

We should appreciate every wonderfully unique moment that life presents us.
No two sunsets will ever look the same.
Even within the same sunset, each moment is a new work of art.

Yet, while living each moment, we should also plan for the next.
We must invest in our future - our old age.
Make good dietary and physical choices while we are young.
Form good habit on how to live life - whether they be physical habits or cognitive habits.
For we all get old, but God has given us wisdom on how to live healthily and fully.

Most importantly, we do not need to despair.
When death and disease and suffering comes our way.
For they are to be expected in a life separated from God.
We must hold our heads up high, and lift our voices in praise - for the Conqueror has overcome all that separates us....
...and one day, we shall meet our Hero -
The God who cries with us each time we face these trials in life.
The Saviour who has conquered death and has deemed us somehow worthy to live perfect lives one day.

We will finally live how we were meant to live - when our Creator made us in all perfection.

So pursue an authentic relationship with Christ.
Get to know your family.
Keep in touch with your friends.
Put to practice the wisdom given by the bible on how to live life well.






I wonder how my grandma will look like when I meet her in that perfection.
She must have been a beautiful young girl.

********

Lullaby for Grandma

Up where the stars are
the night wind blows soft.
Moon shines a lullaby
Magic aloft.

Sleep must come silently
to those who have waited long
for dreams to
rest on
the eyelids
that needed sleep to rest their soul.

Hands clasped together
Lips pursed so tight.
Eyes cast to Heaven,
Where are You tonight?

Do You hear all my prayers?
Every word lifted up
by Your own
Angels
who hold us
and never leave us all alone.

Up where the stars are
the night wind blows soft....

~S.21062009~

Heartprints

As I browsed through my friends' profiles on facebook, I felt a familiar sentimental tug.

Yes, people do come in and out of our lives, but then there are the handful, who, despite making a so-called "exit", still remain in our lives.



The challenge is keeping up with everyone's lives.

As our paths cross, part, and continue to meander along in life... sometimes it feel as if we are more than those physical seas apart.

And then other times it feels as if we are not that far apart after all.

There is a fine balance to be sought.
(pardon this weird blog-entry. My thoughts are coming in drips and drabs and sporadically)
Keeping in touch is important.
Knowing what's going on in each others' lives, keeping conversation going, and yet... having faith that when conversation dries up, well, that the people we care about still care for us.


Lately though, I've been learning the importance of keeping up.
We are human beings after all... and yes, though we might just be able to "pick it up where we left off" whenever we meet up again,
the world is a big place, and the people we care for are many.

Why not drop an email or two, or skype each other now and then?
Rather than take for granted that "we'll meet some day and things'll be just like they were"....

Cuz things do change.
People get older.
Experiences wear us thin.
And those who "stay" in our lives are the ones whom we often really feel care for us.