pursuit of happyness

Snuggling in my quilt in the cool dead of the night and watching the Pursuit of Happyness with the lights out was quite an experience. These times of being alone gives me much time to be still, really, and although leaving the mind to its own potentially-ADHD devices can sometimes get rather tiresome, but at least I have less things going on around me to bear its weight on my already-busy brain.

A quick (ok, not-so-quick) thought from the movie:

It was interesting to see how Will Smith's Chris Gardner started out living in his specific expectations of what success (his happiness equivalent) is: One with smiles, with loads of money and a swanky car. It was black and white to him, and he used to see that if he thought something wouldn't be of benefit to his pursuit of happiness, he wouldn't waste time on it. I love how even the mis-spelling of the word 'happyness' rubbed him the wrong way—and perhaps what really summed up the entire movie. So as the story progresses, as his life spiralled down, he began to learn that the pursuit of success wasn't as straightforward as it seemed. He had to learn to let go of his black and white, logical "effort X equals to result X" mindset—and understand that desperation doesn't let one have a choice. But one can choose to work with desperation. His turning point in the movie was perhaps as he sat in service one Sunday and heard the church choir sing:

"Now Lord don't move my mountain /
But give me the Strength to climb /
And Lord, don't take away my stumbling blocks /
But lead me all around"

He began to accept that mountains do not disappear and learnt to walk around it as he approached them. Some mountains even seemed to have surprises in store, just that he could yet see them. His self-proclaimed sociability was also put to test as he got more and more broke—to the point that he realised that perhaps he wasn't as generous as he thought he was. By the time the internship was over, his desire to be outstanding was lost; he did not even dare to think that he'd get the job. His spirit was broken.

*spoiler ahead*

Well, of course, he got the job. But it wasn't in the spirit elation that he (or we) expected. Rather, he was in tears and the ending scene with him once again in the opening scene, amidst all the 'happy faces' that he once desired. Here, we are led to see the irony—that what he initially thought would bring him success (the bone scanning device) did not; that happiness was not swanky cars and loads of money. He lost his wife, and lived homeless and in debt. At that very point, his happyness was as simple as that moment of relief as he was elevated from the pits of poverty.

--

I was also reminded of the grace that I was shown when I experienced utter spiritual poverty—knowing that I could finally come to rest from kicking and scratching my way out of darkness and always being on the run... Yet how easy it is to forget that poverty once lifted out of it! To always be living as though spiritually impoverished yet enjoying the spiritual fullness of His being... 'Tis yet another amazing paradox to hold in tension. May I never forget.

like no other

 This cracks me up all. The. Time. Choobs at 0:30 is pure genius.

I love how comfortably crazy we are. And how we can always talk, share and pray like we never were separated despite us being (almost) always separated in 3 different parts of the world at any one time. It only can be the Lord's blessing and grace. :)

void.

Whilst I went out to meet Dr J to discuss some SC matters, RoomieA was still cleaning up the room. When I returned and pushed open the door (which is almost never closed), she was gone. And so were her belongings.

How do I explain that sudden void that wrenched the depths of my heart?

Just this January, my bed was empty, and hers was (neatly) brimming with life. Today, it's the opposite. As I did my usual reflections (sometimes the spiritual discipline of sleeping) on the hour-long bus ride home from vocal lessons, I was once again recalling every face that God has put into my life this season, and how I have been saying 'bye' to the same faces now that this season is over. Thinking that I may never see these people again is probably what gets the tears leaking, but once again, I am ever-so-thankful for every face that the Lord has allowed me to love, learn from and grow with. Surely, this is not goodbye forever.

What a wonderful privilege to be known as His children, with Him as our Father!

abode

stay in your house! keep your larder stocked,
keep your latch on at least if you don't like your door locked
lest noises unwanted filter in
lest your roving eye begins to covet your neighbour's bin
not enough? a suggesçion:
gently walk across each other's lawns,
knock on the doors, and ask nicely for that spoonful of sugar
that you've always wanted to belabour.

sing.

Excellence really makes such a difference when it comes to music. Such a difference. The beauty of the music that came forth put a definition to what soothes the soul; the effort, the concentration and dedication of every member in the choir also ministered to me. (Imagine if the body of Christ brought forth such excellence on principle!) Being part of such an excellent choir today reminded me of the great potential that God has graciously made man to possess. Would failing to fan our gifts into flames be doing God's creative creation a disservice? Would failing to be who God wants me to be be stealing the glory due His name?

I am extremely humbled, and duly reminded.

MPrepped.

Finishing off a beautiful semester with a beautiful sunset. :) Thank You, Lord!

And so I am done with my first year of theological studies. What a year it has been. The second semester really blasted by, and I'd probably say that there will be no other semester like this one. Where do I start?

Moving into the dormitories this semester must have been the best move. Even though most of those whom I am closest to are graduating, this time of stay allowed me to get to know them on an even deeper level. In Christ, the bond of friendships that one can form even in 10 months is amazing. Some I know I may never see again in this lifetime, but as long as it is called today, I am more than thankful that our paths ever crossed. My next roommate will be a new student, and I pray that I will be a good 'senior' of sorts to her.

Next up would be the counseling sessions that liberated me from my past and myself as a people-pleaser. I still have much to work on in my character, but I am thankful the the Lord has given me the opportunity to remove these skeletons that were wasting away in my closet. Lately a flaw has surfaced—one that is probably more serious than I'd thought—but God has also placed people in my life who are willing to walk me through with it and I am determined that it should not get in the way of what God wants me to be. No more '可惜's!!!

And finally, my studies. This semester, I swung on extremities: I pushed myself extremely hard in my books last semester, and decided to play even harder this semester. Admittedly, adjusting to a new, community-based environment made serious studying quite a challenge and even though I fulfilled all my requirements, I still feel that I could have done even more on the academic front. It was also challenging having to once again go through different modules and pedagogues, and I had to catch myself in the many times that I allowed fidgetiness (if there's such a word) overcome me. The struggle betwixt knowing about Him and knowing Him has lessened apparently and I am thankful that He has led me to see how knowing about Him has allowed me to know Him—for what I knew about Him eventually led me to see how great, how awesome, and how marvelous our God is (and already is)!

It's a bit strange that even though I am done with my papers, I don't feel too relaxed either... This holiday is going to be not much of a holiday at all- vocal exam is coming up REAL SOON in July; planning for the June programme for Youth Fellowship; Student Council committee planning and the works, and am lending my voice for an evangelistic musical studio recording and that I need to practice for. Plus I do want to take time to deeply reflect and revisit all that I've learnt this semester... Ah for good time management! Lord help me.

scaling reflections

I took to the rock walls today for the first time in 10 years. Being the monkey that I was when young (I was pretty good at shimmying up basketball hoop poles and swinging on the monkey bars etc etc), I relished the opportunity to relive my childhood days and figure out the routes embedded in the walls. I managed to successfully complete 6 out of 7 climbs (I think) before my fingers began to refuse hold on to anything other than its fingernails.

I was discussing with dearest M that the tendency for most rookie climbers (i.e. myself) was to use their hands to hoist themselves up instead of their legs—I commented that even though I wanted to use my left leg push myself up, because I seldom used it it was almost ineffective in pushing my entire body up when I needed that boost. Different parts of my body are also aching (and almost cramping) now as I type—a sign that these muscles are seldom used.

 It struck me, then, that if we were to speak of the Church scaling greater heights, how essential it is that Body of Christ, the Church, has to work together to do so. Since each part of the body has its own set of muscles, the weaker muscles would require greater effort in the climb, and the only way to train it up would be to strengthen it and wield it more often so that the particular limb would better facilitate the climb.

 What are we looking at when we seek to build up the Body of Christ? Do we strengthen the weak so that the entire Body can move forward more easily? Scaling walls do not simply employ the use of one or two body parts. It involves the entire body. Granted, some parts may currently be weaker, but imagine the ease when the entire Body is well-balanced and built, and truly moves together in equal strength as one to bring itself to scale greater heights... May the Lord help us all.

:')

School will never be the same again...

I truly thank the Lord for bringing each one of you into my life.
All of you will always be in my thoughts and prayers.

57 & Mother's Day

I still remember commenting last year ('11) of the irony that those who were born in '55 would be turning 56, and those born in '56 will be turning 55... And suddenly—you're 57.

Thank you for modelling what it is to be a faithful servant of God even when things look at its bleakest. And for being one who never sways in your values and beliefs no matter what others think. Thank you for always putting your family first, and for always being willing to do the smallest favour for us even if it means going out of your way. Thank you for being that tech-savvy dad that you are—you're the real reason behind my techyness. :P May you continue to serve the Lord with all your heart, mind, soul and strength, and love your neighbour as yourself.

Thank you, mom, for being who you are. You're the best mom anyone can have, and I'm more than blessed to have such a God-fearing, prayerful, responsible, loving, fantastic cook, straight-talking, always-learning, always-giving, always-blessing mom. Did I mention long-suffering (no longer)? ^^ May the Lord continue to bless you with good health and joy and peace that surpasses all understanding.

Blessed birthday, dad, and happy mother's day, mom :) May the Lord continue to be the anchor that holds the both of you together as you bless others through this holy sacrament and covenant that you have both come together—and made in the Lord. God bless the both of you.

O God, You are so, so good to me. Thank You, Lord.

I dreamt

I was in a foreign looking building, something like one back in the 90s, derelict with cardboard boxes strewn about and random people walking around. The air was stale, paint was peeling, a faded yellow...

I was with someone (whom I can't remember, but he drives), walking around, window shopping even though there was really nothing to look at.

Then I saw you.

You were alone, two floors down, sauntering around with that usual smug air blanketed securely around you. I can't remember what you were wearing exactly, but it wasn't anything striking. I felt a familiar strangeness, a discomfort, and I was afraid to call out your name. Then your eyes flickered around, and they met mine.

As usual, I averted my eyes and turned away, walking off with my companion. Yet unease continued creeping down my spine (I could almost feel your fingers reaching for my hips from behind); I broke into a small run.

And so did you.

To my horror, you leaped up the broken escalator with the grace of an antler, bounding over plank and cardboard boxes, closing in our distance at an anomaly rate. I remember memories strobing in as I ran, willing my legs not to turn jelly, my conscious mind hoping so hard that that Gatorade ad effect—you know, the one with soccer players running in water—won't happen like it always did in my dreams. I, while running harder, didn't feel it. But that dreaded Gatorade thing weighed me down as I, concurrently, from another camera angle, viewed my futile self searching desperately for an escape route. This self could see your whereabouts, yet was also part of my running body. Pretty much like an actor/director role welding into a halo effect, adding effort into my sprints.

I ducked past people, ran down small alleyways, trying to stay out of your sight. But you always closed in quickly. My companion got me to his car (it was an old, faded bronze family car), and we raced out across the multi-storey carpark. Relentless. Another set of tyres squealed. A white sedan blasted after us.

In and out of empty lots we wove, me constantly checking the rear view mirror even though my director self already knew where he was. We came a forking path and hurtled through the lane on the left. Another few metres, and we reached a dead end. I could hear your engine from not too far away, throb, Throb, THROB. My heart was almost in my mouth.

I threw myself out of the car and searched the dead alley, and found another passage just large enough for one person to pass through. My director mode disappeared and I was in first person—left cold. (Don't ask me how, but I was really in third AND first person mode at the same time.) I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. The passage finally came to an open lift, of which had 3 buttons inside. I forsook my companion and hit 1. The lift whirred to life, I slumped to the floor in a sitting placebo, shaking, refusing to wish anything other than that the lift's mechanical sound would never stop whirring.

Ding.

The lift door opened... To you.

"Why did you run?"

"Why could you always find me?"

I didn't wait for a response. I woke myself up.

vocare

Here I am, trembling from the lack of sleep (woe is me who got a deadline one week wrong) and rushing out a 3,000 word essay yet in the midst of the flurry I feel a deep peace. This blog post is to capture how I am suddenly feeling very, very blessed and thankful. Reading immensely wonderful texts and papers so faithful to Scripture continues to reveal a God even greater and awesome—I cannot describe how grateful and humbled I am to have such a profound privilege that I can be writing about Him, and for Him.

Soli Deo Gloria.

pagne

argh who knows the jeroboam effort it takes for me to ignore the champagne popping sounds (figurative, of course) flooding in that sound suspiciously like the word 'play' and what's worse! when i am asked to partake in its shiny, effervescent presence—the gentle high laced with a tinge of pity and veiled notes of sadness knowing that whilst reminiscent of all its vintage and vinified memories, the euphoria is bound for naught—like that unforgettable cuvée elisabeth salmon (have i ever mentioned how exquisite i think their logo design is) brut rosé's tippling finessé of bubbles that graced my palate one blissful champagne dinner night... yet the entire experience, the entire process, the entire almost self-indulgent, epicurean, and verily blessed moment has had itself deeply embedded into my heart, never again to be reproduced in exact similar fashion, just poorer refractions carefully trodden into sweet, sweet and sweeter memories. and now that i've tasted even sweeter fellowship— surely, surely. i'll miss you all even more deeply so.

o for our Good Lord to garrison us in this lane we walk seemingly in different ones —but united in Him.

last gasp

One online exam this week, two weeks to go, three papers to write. I'm thankful for the end of classes—now I can finally plunge myself headfirst into the writing zone and shut myself from the world for a good many hours in one sitting. Just the way I like it... Only that it sometimes takes up to an hour for me to be in the zone, sigh.

It's a love-hate relationship with the Internet, really, and I always wonder if we do become more—or less—efficient with its invent. Let it not distract, and it becomes a powerful resource mining tool. Once social media and pretty pictures find their way into your peripheral vision: Bad news. They suck you in before you can say "pin it"—and spit you out a little too slow.

Lord have mercy.

friv

I don't think I can pull high-waist stuff off but... This... Is... Dream piece of cloth. T_T
And the heels!

Source: aliceandolivia.com via Benita on Pinterest

dox

'To have found God and still to pursue Him, is the soul's paradox of love...'

- A. W. Tozer

axnpckt

'Tis the Sunday when the stars align:

Songleading 730am service
Youth music band devotions 820am
Sunday school praise band 845am
Sunday school teaching 930am
Attend Worship service 1130am
Youth music committee meeting 145pm

For extra strength and mercies... ><"