there is power in the name of Jesus

i often talk about my faith, not my religion. faith is something that’s personal and real and powerful, but religion is only the letter and not the spirit, in my books. so when there are questions about my faith, i sometimes simplify it this way: there are the pillars of faith (truth and doctrines), and there are the expressions of faith. the first are immovable and unchangeable, but the latter may vary from person to person.

because my faith is a reasoned faith, i am wary of people who assume that it is all about magical mumbo-jumbo sprinkled with some cursory references to the Holy Scriptures. i am wary of making my faith sound like that, because it certainly isn’t. that doesn’t mean that my God is not able or willing to perform miracles — His Word is full of His miracles — but that does mean that it is His prerogative to work miracles, and that He has given us a sure way of knowing Him: His Word and His world.

but even as i find the balance between standing firm on my faith, sharing it, and not sounding like a fanatic, i guess i sometimes lean on the wrong side. when yy went home for just a day on saturday, she spared no effort in telling our grandparents about the love of Jesus. (does this make you cringe already?) in whatever teochew she could manage, she told them about heaven, and how much we wished they would one day be there. when she told me this i was so envious of her courage, of her straightforwardness and determination to speak of the Lord. all the time there were so many things running through my head: my parents who may not understand where she’s coming from, my grandparents’ bad hearing, the problems in the family that they often talk about, the difficulty in helping them understand…and so i was quiet.

yet the fact is that there is no time. i’ve had too many “practical considerations” that have kept me silent for a long time. have i tried? yes. when i first understood the gospel at my first conference, i feared for my grandfather, because time was the shortest for him. since then, God has given him and me extra years, and i’ve made many desperate prayers. opportunities have arisen: talking about adam and eve and creation, listening to the Bible read in teochew, sharing about the Hos’ faith, explaining about church, visits from teachers jo and pat, mdm chow and pastor mitch, having aunty go and talk to them and pray with them. there were times i made specific prayers about having a chance to talk to them again, and i did.

so this time, it was putting into practice loving to the end, because i have no right to give up. there seemed to be no sign of space for me to try and tell them anything, because grandpa was hardly awake and lucid enough, he couldn’t see, he can’t hear clearly, he can’t tell night from day. there are too many unresolved issues that disturb him and grandma and mummy, and there are so many complications that i won’t even know where to begin talking about.

i thought about pastor, and remembering that he was on a missions trip in india, i suddenly understood a little better how hard it must be on the missions field; i suddenly caught a glimmer of what pastor meant when he shared about the difficulties in bringing the gospel to india, how it is for a culture to be resistant to the gospel.

but it is also in such impossible situations, that the certainty of my faith comes in. it is when it seems impossible, that i have to exercise faith in the God i say i believe in, and learn to stretch my soul, to see what it really means to ask, believing, and act on my faith. it is when it looks like there is no space for me to start sharing about Jesus, that i know what it means to say there is power in the name of Jesus, and all who call upon Him will be heard. just as the Word itself has a power that we cannot fully comprehend, but which benefits we reap, so the name of Jesus also has a power beyond what any logic or reasoning can contain.

so whether or not my grandparents understand what heaven is, whether or not they think it’s a charity hospital where people get well for free, whether or not they understand what it means for Jesus to love us, today we three held hands, and in my halting teochew we called upon the name of Jesus,  as we thanked our heavenly Father for taking care of us, and asked Him to help grandpa not fear, not hurt, and not be worried; that He will help my grandparents believe, that they will know Jesus, that when the time comes He may gather us in heaven and let us be with Him. 

in the name of Jesus, amen.

you can’t trick an old dog, new teach’.

sometime along the way i have been thinking about the opening of the heart, how hard that is, though how important. and it’s something that seems to recur in every aspect of my measly life. in fact i think it’s something that many people try to learn in the course of their (probably less measly) lives too, but most people call it simply “falling in love”. but love is not just for a single special friend, you know.

so over the years i’ve learnt to keep away, and to be safe. and that has taught me much independence and calmness. people talk about finding a partner with the same faith, and why/why not. to me it comes down to something very simple: how could you live with the knowledge that the one you love most is not assured eternal life? it’s hard enough with most of my family, and i cannot in any state of consciousness make it harder than it already is. it’s that simple.

so even with the people around me, i very quickly and often subconsciously calculate the odds. if there is little chance of pain, i might probably be more open, faster. either that or i just like that person a lot.

today i was invigilating a test, and looking around at my form class kids, i caught sight of one who seemed to be peeking up to check if i was really angry. catching my eye once he grinned his usual grin that makes people laugh. looking around at my class today i had a stab of ache at thinking that perhaps i cannot keep them forever, perhaps there could be no forever. and it’s sad. my favourite friend at work also sometimes makes me think that, and i don’t know what to do about it, if there’s anything to do about it.

j’s girlfriend’s mum passed away, and it’s a very difficult death to accept because of the circumstances surrounding it. talking about it with him and the rest made me tear in the office today. it has to be very traumatic, and even from where i am, twice removed, i feel the pain. how hard it must be for her, being up in the villages, not even able to get an embalmer and having to wait this many days to bring the body back to singapore. it reminded me of a and mj, and what Pastor said about how to pray. how, indeed?

sometimes we think that there has to be some perfect pattern in our prayers, when all God asks of us is honesty and openness. why can’t we speak plainly, with heartfelt words?

today i was really angry with my class. i knew i was really angry, because i had to count to ten, because i felt all the blood rising to my face (so it’s true), because it made my voice louder than usual, and because it showed on my  face enough for my usually boisterous class to be quiet. i love this class, and i want them to do well, but at their test today i found on the tables of 2 boys work that they were not supposed to have. it was hugely disappointing, and i made it clear: you can do anything, but never be dishonest. don’t you even dare think about cheating! all the more when you don’t even need to cheat to do well. how can you not even try?

what would they grow up to be? yesterday i marked all their stuff in a hurry so that they can get feedback in time, and i sent an email to the class telling them how i’ve been pleased with their progress so far. this morning when i went in they were busily but happily talking about possible points to write about, and i was glad to see their smiles and engagement.

yesterday’s anger was not really anger. it wasn’t exactly disappointment (well not with them at least) either. it was more like tiredness and mild perplexity. this other class started out performing better, but has been getting less and less on task recently. even after a supposedly fun activity yesterday, they were distracted, scattered, and not bothered. so i let them off early, since they were so obviously uninterested. i was upset, but as i thought about it, i realised that they were probably really just tired out. so i got them candy today. happy candy that i think is cute, and fun. and they were happier.

these are my kids. i want so much for them, but i feel like perhaps i’m not helping much. what else is there to do? just as i’m discomforted by the silence, and just as i’m counting the days now, and just as i’m trying to keep my head above and be a sun beam a la scout finch, there is so much to be honest about, to speak openly about.

where else have we to go, when You alone have words of eternal life?

dimple worse

in new circumstances, simple words can mean much.

we all have had our fair share of angry teachers, but it never occured to me that it is such a noble thing for them to be angry, because not every teacher cares enough or is concerned enough to respond so personally. not every teacher takes each class and each pupil to heart and assumes full responsibility for the kind of person each turns out to be. not every teacher sees each child as his/her own child. angry teachers are good teachers.

honesty is often taught as a fundamental value, and deceit as a big no-no. but self-deceit is so much harder to spot. we can spend our whole lives thinking and writing and saying what we know we ought to, without ever coming face to face with who we really are. and when we are never honest enough to see ourselves, how can we be honest enough to tell someone else, i’m sorry, i need help, i want to know how you do that, i want to do something for you too? how can we say we know grace, when we never admit we need it? how can we say we know friendship, when we never practise what it means to be a friend in need, nor really know what it means to find a friend in need, because we have never admitted our needs? honesty is not just about not taking what’s not yours; it is also about taking what’s yours: my faults, my idiosyncracies, my peeves, my habits, my weaknesses are all mine, and i take them to be mine. if you will see them too and know me  i’ll know i have a friend in you.

one day

I have many memories of my schooldays, one of which is particularly sad. When I was in Primary 3, my music teacher was absent for a few days, and when she finally came back to school, she always had puffy eyes and a red face, and looked like she had been crying. So many people wondered what was wrong, and there was word that went around, that her husband had just been killed in an industrial accident.

Through the years I’ve seen many examples of people who gather themselves and face the world with a calm face, despite personal tragedies that take place. Many times we are forced to do that, but there are those brave ones who do it much better, and who not only cope, but continue to be a positive energy around others. I’ve always admired them. How hard it must be to continue smiling, and to give of yourself to others when you’re breaking into pieces inside.

I’ve always wanted to be somebody as strong as that. But I don’t think I’ve been doing it very well. Either that or I do it at all the wrong times. Teaching has made me think again about that. I always knew that I never want to be the kind of teacher who vents her moods on the class, and makes the class be at mercy of her tempestuous whims. I always want to enter my class happy, and be stern only when necessary. I want to always be energetic, and never let my tiredness show. But I haven’t thought about what to do when everything I am feels questioned when I enter a class. I also haven’t figured out what to do when the negative energy in my class saps me within an hour or less.

I mean, I’m the adult here, hello. I should have already gotten myself sorted out, and I should be telling them all these triumphant stories about life and the little things in school. And they should be eagerly lapping up all my stories and thinking to themselves, yay there is hope after all.

But as many have realized, things are not always this idealistic. Nor are they always this pessimistic. Probably it is just an equilibrium that has yet to be reached, because the entropy sometimes threatens to be too much. Sometime, everything should settle down, and work can actually be done, well done.

There are good days and there are bad days. In the final count, there are no wasted days.

o ye of little faith…

the sum of

In between penning down reflections on anniversary and various happenings in school, I was just thinking how glad I am that my career advancements and other developments in my measly life are in the hands of God. School is probably as harmless as any workplace can get, but the extensiveness of human fallibility definitely reaches it as well, sometimes to even greater impact. So there are all these things going on in this little world, and sometimes it makes one wonder why and how. Starting work also has prompted me to see the kind of competitiveness that takes place in this arena, and hearing stories from other friends about their workplaces and their colleagues make me very thankful for mine, albeit still mildly wary in case I overstep the fine line between friendliness and friendship.

Thus it is definitely reassuring to have one thought to go back to: my days have been fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them. (Psalm 139) There is no need to want to prove anything; whatever is given to me is given to me for a reason, and I shall learn to do them all with the same spirit of excellence I see in those around me, given to me.

kindred

“I found myself wishing life could be easy and free of distraction. I could be such a great wife/ Mom/ person/ daughter/ granddaughter/ friend/ teacher/ companion if life didn’t keep throwing me curve balls…but those curve balls are what real life is made of. We never know what is coming. We have to learn to live and love in the reality that we are in. If we are always waiting for perfect circumstances to enable us to love well we are fooling ourselves. The only time I have had that experience was during the week of my honeymoon.

No more excuses. I don’t want to blame the imperfectness of life for my shortcomings. I want to know the Lord in an intimate way where the fruit of the Spirit is evident in my life regardless of my circumstances.

But what happens when we live God’s way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. (Galatians 5:22 The Message)”

-from the blog of a lovely lady, whose words often echo so well.

how’s this for some pop lit?

While you were gone
The table was empty
And the cups dried off so soon
With no coffee to fill them again

While you were gone
The bread turned stale
And the butter hardened
Because there was no one to share them with
While you were gone
The guitar stood lonely
The piano remained closed
And no music danced in the hall

While you were gone
Everything stood still
And I combed through the world
Wide web
Looking for a vestige of your presence
To let me remember
And know that
While you were gone
You were still here
And you remember too

While you were gone
I wrote you a song
And here are the words —
Only the words
For the music is (with) you
So while you are gone
The tune is missing
Like I am missing
You.

we believe: the song we began Bethany III with

virtually here

we probably don’t realise it much, but the past decades have been a time of great advancement in communicational technology. people speak of how we have moved from a period of snail mail and postal services to the age of instantaneous contact and boundless communication.

but some fundamental issues don’t change. people search the internet daily for something they need: a product, information, reviews, replies, a vestige of themselves or those they love somewhere. searching the internet becomes a search that never ends, because the intertextuality leads to incessant clicking from one link to another. the search will not end, because when we seem to have found what we thought we were trying to find, we realise there is something else that we also want to find, and we go on and on.

the search also doesn’t end, because the more fundamental and personal search also gets displaced onto the virtual world. too many people stay satisfied within the confines of the indoors, and traverse avidly through gigabytes to try and find something or someone familiar. when we twitter, blog, chat, blog-surf, facebook, we are really trying to make contact with the unknown “you” who might possibly make some sort of reply, some response to let us know we are not alone.

when we get home and find ourselves missing someone or something, we surf, trying to find anything that reminds us of him/her, of a presence that is almost immediately accessible. somewhere in that great out there of google.com, anyone can be found, and is virtually here. we are comforted when we experience that.

makes one wonder how people used to cope with missing people and the yearning for contact. things have definitely become more complicated, but as with reading, the imagination of a few has probably thwarted the imagination of many. no longer are we satisfied with memories, with the daydreaming of a hopeful future; we hang around in virtual space, waiting for waves in that wide web of a world we have no grasp of. having it all in the confines of a computer screen helps, and the only way we stay in control is by our ability to walk away from it, and click to select “shut down”.

and perhaps that is the way to go, once this post is properly published. where else would we find company?

into the untravelled world

 

I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end, 
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life. Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge, like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

-Tennyson, “Ulysses”