Have faith, Be brave

Today is the last day of 2011.
I have more than once told people around me that I wished this year would go by quicker. No, I'll give this year a missed even. However, if I know that I am created in the image of my God that in His hands that all things He had created is good and beautiful, then this year 2011 (my miserable year) that sat on His laps, must be good and beautiful, perhaps not that I could see now but in His time.
As how it should be and I must always remember, is to Give thanks for this year. I thank God for a wonderful family - a loving and supportive Aung that braved the storms and basked in the sunshine with me. I thank God for the gift of Maoster that this year as he turns 5, he continues to be a source of joy and happiness and inspiration. I thank God for the strong community in church that I serve along, a group of brethren that truly became family not by our mouth we proclaimed to be but bonded in our hearts that we know the genuine love, care and support that flows so generously from each one. I cannot thank God enough for these people in my life. I thank God for the work that he has placed me to be in - I found passion in teaching and love in abundance from the students. I know that I may not be very happy with management or how sometimes I feel discouraged that teaching is not part of my KPI ( that is another interesting topic that I do not want to discuss further), but the exchange of lives, trust and knowledge and building bridges and homes in someone's heart is something that I thank God for, being in such priviledge, in this job I have come to do and love. In this job I found colleagues-turned friends that made my job such a pleasurable one.
I thank God for friends, the "bestest" of them all to the ones that we seldom meet (but regularly on FB and blogs). The bible records of so many incidents where a friend is well loved and important and so I thank God for all of you.
And as how it goes, with thanksgiving - I seek forgiveness. For the trespasses that I have done, for the words that I may have said that caused hurt, for the things that I should have done but have not done, for the kindness that I didn't display, the tenderness that I omitted and forgive me if I wasn't there for you. Forgive all my selfish and jealous thoughts and how sometimes my heart could be so small and tiny. Forgive me if I had said I would stay in touch and didn't or if I said I'll pray for you but I've forgotten. Forgive me if I have placed my needs above others and that I haven't cared for the poor, the widowed, the orphan, the cold and the hungry.

This year I experienced one miscarriage and one ectopic pregnancy. Both crushed me to the depth of misery and pain. With it, I cancelled two holiday trips and I was filled with anger and frustrations namely with God and myself. I felt I haven't deserve it all, I was serving, I was loving and I was good.
God spoke to me. He told me to be patient. He lets me see that it is not through my works and most important that He is in control. He feels my pain and he weeps with me. That I should love not the gifts but the giver of gifts. Isn't He good enough for me? Isn't He enough for me? Isn't he the sole purpose of my living and my purpose is in Him. I do not subscribe to a name it -claim it theology and God is not a cosmic vending machine. Jesus suffered when he came on earth and he was spat, mocked and crucified but there was meaning in his suffering and he said on the eve of his crucification ," Father , if it is your will, take this cup away from me; nevertheless not my will but yours, be done." This is a beautiful reminder that I shall not seek my will but His will that although in my life, I may face trials and tribulations and that I may feel sad and pain and walk through the valley of death but my Lord whom my faith is on, will lead me through. I need to trust and obey and know that my tomorrows are in His hands. I am in good hands.

A close friend of mine, wrote me a card on Christmas Day. It ended with Have faith, be brave. How apt and this describes my outlook for 2012. Faith in our Lord that he is good in all circumstances, in all seasons and bravery, oh how badly I needed it - courage to walk this journey on earth.
For 2012, I pray that the Lord continues to work in my life and those that I love. That everyday I will demonstrate the obedience, the faith, the joy, the love for our Lord and be a better person.

And, if I loses faith and bravery...... please hold my hands and pray with me.

I can't wait for 2012 because I know my Lord is with me and so are you. Have a great year ahead, eat well, sleep well, live well, love well. See you all in 2012.

Beautiful Boracay

White fine sand. Clear blue sea. White fluffy clouds. Deep blue sky.
It seems like this is paradise on earth. I believe that the new world would be even more glorious than this. Beautiful Boracay! Our God is a wonderful painter and a romantic at heart. He is a musician that orchestrated every note that comes with the crashing waves. I am in deeply, madly, insanely in love.

Impulsive purchase

I know... I know..... such stuff only happens to me. Thinking is overrated.

Screaming, I must be crazy!

Who could it be?

In a dream I saw on a land- Tall, strong, huge, must be a man.

This man (so I assumed!), was in such a rush, loading up jars and jars of “I don’t know what”.

Looking over his shoulders once in a while, anxious if anyone would know, or tell or be caught!

I followed, I mean, I must! A man so sneaky could not be up to any sort of good.

I was quiet, all nimble and quick, and I thank God for my winter hood.

I waited for my chance, the time that he would depart from his precious jars, so firmly on the ground I stood!

I pry open the lid of one of the jars, warm gushes of wind rushes out. It smells of fresh flowers, (of Magnolias, Roses and Violets!), it smells of glorious fields in spring that no longer existed. Only buildings sprung out from fields, a new kind of weed that were strong and persisted.

Next up, was a jar almost overflowing (to the brim!, Lucky I was careful!), with water that was warm and comfy. I almost tasted, if not for the label as I was feeling rather naughty.

Collected from all over the world (even from 2 blocks from home) - the boy with Aids, the girl that can’t see, the uncle that just can’t relate.

It came from the baby that had nothing to eat and the mother that was unreasonably sacked. It came from the soldier that was shot and came from the boy that lacked.

These were precious and could fetch a high price in the market, for tears that were wiped are hard to come by.

We have to survive, there’s no time for tears at least not for these few years, at least that’s what I hear.

Next up was a really huge jar – I had a hard time peering in without crashing in. What precious loot! A collectors’ item they were for sure, if I cared a hoot!

My eyes lit as I read a few pieces of notes that were written in there! A lost and found counter inside a jar! That was just too tough to comprehend.

A man wanted to find his voice – he couldn’t stand being shouted around. A teen lost her chastity – the uncle, her mom brought home apparently treated her as one of his own. An old man was looking for his pride, a maid was looking for rest. An orphan was looking for God from above, not afraid of being reprimand.

I rushed to the jar nearest to my right. I didn’t have time and I was in such a fright. The last jar I opened was cute and small – it contained laughter of children below four. Oh, the chuckles, the giggles, the hooplas and cheer, it instantly loosened up my rather tight jaw.

Who was the man? How did he do it? He had stolen these treasures that all of us neglected.

He took the smell that belonged to the fields and exchanged flowers with towers and no one refuses.

He stole the tears that were scarce to be found, stored them and simply ignored them. Maybe he was hoping someday, it will come, when tears would be in fashion, a gem!

He knows all those who are missing stuff and are praying earnestly and he piles their requests without lending a hand, such integrity! And to think he camouflaged all the laughter of the children and hide them and made them unaware of such power.

I grew red in anger, I was going crazy. Of such crimes, such audacity! Who could it be that had gone scot free? He better not be caught, he better flee.

I went down the list of people I know, and I asked each time, I paused and wonder could it be you?

The above was an entry that I sent in for a Human Rights Writing competition. I dunno why but I am feeling rather embarrassed by this act. Honestly, I think they might be laughing at my juvenile attempt of writing. But... I only live once, so this is my shot.

Screaming... I must be crazy now! But the sent button has been hit!

PS: If it sucks, don't tell me. I cannot live with such humiliation ha ha ha

What's your cross?

Last Sunday during Church service, Maoster asked me why the cross in church is a t. I was rather puzzled why he asked me. I told him that all crosses are t. I even went an extra mile to explain to him about how it was made with 2 planks of wood and how Jesus sacrificed himself. Upon listening to my explanation, I thought that he would have seen the light and think of his mother as a student on the Dean's list. Alas,he looked more perplexed.




He pressed on, and said, " but Mummy, the cross in my school is a X. I was really scratching my head, as his school was also a church and I got really confused. I asked him if he was sure, he said," Yes, Mummy, really, in Bethesda, my school, the cross is a X.



During times like this, when all things fail, Aung has the solution. I mean, Mister know it all solved the mystery. He asked his son, if he meant, in his homework. A cross is an X. And, of cos, everything falls into place. World peace.

I was highly amused (as always) by the things that goes in my son's mind. It's amazing the things he thinks and the things he say.

Few days later, as I recall this incident, I am somewhat reminded of the "cross story". I mean, what comes to your mind, when we say, what is a cross?

The love of the cross, the mercy of the cross, the grace of the cross.
The cross that crosses out all the cross in our lives.

A song for the winter season

"Blessings"

We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things

'Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not our home

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy
What if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights

Are your mercies in disguise

Road to recovery

I walked a mile with Pleasure;
She chatted all the way;
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with Sorrow,
And ne'er a word said she;
But, oh! The things I learned from her,

When sorrow walked with me.

by Robert Browning Hamilton