remembrance

since some years back, i’ve realised that i remember places by the memories i have of it, by the people i’ve been there with. so there are places i walk to on my own, and i remember who i went there with and when, what it was like and how i felt. and there are places i go with people to, and i remember a separate time at the same place, and i put these memories together.

i used to have a particular stretch of the singapore river in my mind, right outside the esplanade, just like i had in mind the old jubilee hall, and definitely the macdonalds at shaw tower. even the pasta mania at the old junction 8, and the place near ang mo kio where kfc used to be. but now i also have central, the side facing the river, the ice cream place, liang court, the pavement in between, and of course my beloved jp. even heartland, the food centre and the mix of memories there. maybe this is what keeps people at a place…when there are bits of you spread across everywhere, and when bits of places are in your heart.

i’ve been trying to look back on this year, and i keep seeing a whirlwind. incidents in 2007 are still very vivid in my mind, but everything in 2008 seems majorly compressed. it’s strange. but when it comes down to it, i guess 2008 is defined in a different way. 2007 had its key incidents/events, but 2008 has its key people. and it does tie in with my whole “i have you in my heart” lesson.

after the excitement of the new year, i often feel disappointed, not just because christmas is over, but also because cny is here. i don’t like cny. i don’t like the whole mood of it, and i don’t enjoy it at all. but it was only just now, finding myself adding a new memory to central in my mind that i was thinking maybe it’s because of the cnys i’ve had and not liked, or that i’ve been excitedly anticipating but deeply disappointed by that i don’t welcome that season. so instead of hating that time of the year every year, perhaps it’s just a matter of building new memories around that time. so cny 2009 will be a time of finding new memories to keep!

it helps too to have people share with me their happy memories of cny. it’s almost like, when i can’t be happy about something, seeing and sensing the joy someone else has over the same matter helps me see it in a different way, and somehow i can enter into their joy too. that’s another example of how two are better than one, and that’s a wisdom i’m still trying to learn. we teach the children that sharing is good, but when you grow up, you see how sharing is such a big part of knowing what love is.

2009 looks like a busy year, a year of changes, a year of new beginnings, and naturally also some endings, and i still can’t see clearly into this fuzzy crystal ball. but it is then storing up the new treasures i’ve been given this year, and keeping all of them in my heart, so that there’s space enough for people to come in, and stay. it’s another paradox, but paradoxes are good, because they are the only things that can face the reality of life squarely, and triumph. perhaps when we can be real enough, honest enough, broken enough, we’ll see what it is that the Lord has always intended for us to know.

every beginning

one of the happiest things i know is to bump into a friend on an unexpected day and say hello with a hug.

number one, it’s like a nice surprise. number two, it’s always pleasant to see familiar faces in a sea of unfamiliar and not always friendly ones. number three, a whole-hearted hug says a lot for a friendship.

so today while i was roaming funan thinking if i would be able to lug that huge box back myself, i was also messaging p after a christmas wish. it was nice already that late greetings came at all, and there was short chat over sms as usual, and finally looking forward to school, maybe partly cos it seemed i needed some comfort or at least a face-to-face decision on whether or not i needed help.

so it was a surprise when i walked into pageone at harbour front an hour or two later, and walk straight into my funny friend.

serendipitous moments are part of our blessing, but it is the even greater blessing to have a friend like this.

season of hope

on the second night of the concert, Pastor said something to the choir at our final rehearsal that made benc marvel, “he always knows exactly what to say!” yes he does. he reminded us that it is not our skills, our abilities and our practice that will bless the hearts of people who come. it is only God who can do that, and it is the desire of our hearts to glorify Him that He is looking for. what can a bunch of dustballs do besides to ask?

something else Pastor said was that he hoped this Christmas, and the concert itself, would be something special to each one of us too. that not only do we just want people to take something away from the concerts, but as people involved, we too should have a special moment from the Lord. and it struck me because that evening, i really did have one.

on my way to church to meet mose and alv about christmas day and for rehearsal, i got a message from mills that made me stop. it was like the message i got from koky 5 years ago during my math tutorial, and like that message i got from wy two months or so ago. one of my classmates in NIE had just passed away, back in her hometown. and she had only been married for 2 weeks.

it was sudden, and it stumped all of us. we are a pretty small group over at NIE, and each person’s absence is usually very much noticed. to think that one of us will not come back after the hols, and will not be around anymore…that’s something the soul always finds hard to accept at once. i remember little things about her: the way she sits, the way she speaks, the way she casts glances across the classroom when it gets dry, the way she and the other 3 sts would sit and talk.

so i went for rehearsal still in a state of disbelief. and when we started singing Emmanuel, come Emmanuel, disperse the clouds of night, death’s dark shadow put to flight, the reality of the words hit me. the cry for Emmanuel to come after 400 years of silence, the cry for the Light to shine again…i caught a glimpse of the desperation, the thirst, the anticipation and the call to rejoice for Emmanuel, even amidst gloom.

as we practised each item, and as we sang, i was thinking of my friends at NIE, of each one and each struggle, each hurdle that veils. and what can we do? but to continue watching, praying, standing by. by the time we got to the last song, i was ready to sing, precisely because i could never be ready enough. “this is a season of hope, a season of expectation. this is a season of joy, a season of celebration. this is a season of faith, a season of love and light. this is a season of hope as we look to the birth of Christ.”

and hope that is seen is not hope, for why does one still hope for what is seen? but we hope for that which is not seen, so that we eagerly wait for it in anticipation. the greater glory that is not seen is as yet incomprehensible, but it is also called a season of faith for good reason. precisely because there is nothing i can do, and i find myself helpless yet again, i sing out with all my heart “a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious dawn! He is the hope of our hearts, the light of the world, the bright morning star, the Father’s incarnate Word!”

and that is enough for me, for us. this Christmas is special, because of life. on the flip side of life is death, but over death Jesus has conquered.

to remember

just before the concert, people are usually in a flurry. the girls especially, because of the make-up and hair. so today was the same, with the office crowded with people bumping into one another as they rushed from rouge to foundation to mascara to hairpins and mirrors.

in the midst of all that, nicky stopped me in his usual earnest and unassuming manner, and he asked, “sorry py do you know what it means when we say ‘ransomed captive’?”

it took me a while to hear what he was asking, but when i did, i was struck by the simplicity and profundity of the moment. those words were from one of the songs that we sang at the concert, one of the words that we had to memorise. the simple question required an answer that mentions the profound truth of those two words, that we were held captive in sin, until the Lord came and paid the ransom for us, that we may be free. and Emmanuel indeed! did i remember this, even as i tried to remember the right words to sing at the right time? have i remembered to think about what i’m singing and why?

people ask me things, sometimes because i’m on my way to teaching english and i ought to know. but each time, there is something that sticks, and it’s definitely not just vocabulary or synthesis.

i’m a ransomed captive, no longer captive but forever ransomed.

a day, not my own

today’s one of those days that i won’t mind chronicling in detail what happened hour to hour. this is our sunday school class outing day, or what we called holyday camp the first time. thankfully, we got the help that we had last time too: our 2 uncles/teachers/korkors who chauffeured us around tirelessly and played with us openheartedly.

the difference for me is that i actually really enjoyed myself today, and was only self-conscious after i woke up from dozing off in the car at the end of the day. most of it was good, and despite my early bout of carsickness, every bit of it was enjoyable, and educational for some of the girls i hope. so even with 3 bouts of tears, 4 “i’m never going to be your friend again”, 1 fall into the pond, 2 rounds of “eeks i’m not stepping over that water!”, countless dirty hands and mouths and tshirts and 6 rounds of stacked children sliding down the water slide, i’m really glad for my 3 new girls who came.

this time, i guess there was a greater consciousness of the need to make good memories for the children to grow up with. maybe because some of the girls are newer, and not as accustomed to our ways, there were many reminders to say thank you, to share, to treasure friends, to be polite, to pick up our mess, to listen and obey, to walk and stop and think, to try to understand. and then seeing so much of the parents’ imprint on the children, whether it’s their absence, their overbearing presence, or their quirks and ideology.

seeing also t cy’s hospitality and ready love for all the little ones, and how wise she is with them, yet how she can be firm with manners while at the same time planning little treats for the young ones. in the midst of all that games and masak-masak, getting a call from k and getting to catch up a bit. then rushing off to dinner and having a nice time with my “foster family”.

then having pastor ask me through email, “what are you doing during the hols?” and it really makes me wonder. here and there there’s been talk about what our individual and specific purpose is, and what we can do in life, what we might like to do, what we are gifted to do, what we can try to do, how to see things, how to relate to people etc. and then just seeing today as a very comfortable day that is not gone to waste, because it has not been about me. so what is it about today that makes it so comfortable, so exciting, yet so serenely happy, in some strange way?

friends

every loss is some kind of death, and the soul feels it.
sudden silences are a sad kind of loss, like the ringing echoes after a splendid song.

(it’s a fine line to tread, that small space between an artistry of words and melodrama.)

perhaps the real test of whether it is good-to-be is when all the nebulous notions of fate and meant-to-be dissipate, and it comes down to making a choice, and being sure enough of what one wants. or at least, sure enough to take that step and then to go on, one step after step, in step.

it is that gap in between that is harder, and that makes one wonder what it is that tells, and whether we’ll ever know.

perspectives

“To Lilias this meant that even when there were no outward signs of encouragement, she would keep a listening heart tuned to her Father’s voice, then faithfully do what He said. As she loved to say, “He knew what He would do.” This meant complete rejoicing when His purpose was revealed in the proving of His promises. And it meant for the future that same waiting on God, content with simple obedience, understanding that the results of one’s work on earth may be realised long after one’s time on earth is finished.”

A Passion for the Impossible: The Life of Lilias Trotter, Miriam Huffman Rockness

“that’s why it’s called ‘the impossible’…but when i am weak, then i am strong!”