Another count down to what?

It's that time of the year again. Whether you choose to have or go to a private party, take to the streets or the padang or join the faithful in giving thanks to God in a church,  the world will be counting down to the last minutes of 2013 in a few hours. I was having lunch with an old fren last week. And she's rattling off her review of 2013. It doesn't sound good; business-wise a couple of big deals she was working on fell through. One of her  frens suffered a brain aneurysm which wasn't detected fast enough, resulting in permanent damage thereto. Bad news suck; it's always shocking to realize you could be having lunch with someone 'just the other day' and then you hear he's suddenly dropped dead, met an accident or whatever - and that's when you are reminded again of your own mortality. We commiserate with those who experience the bad stuff. I just heard from my kid one of her frens' million $ bungalow burnt down in a 1 hr fire, another had a whopping $80k medical bill for his mum, because of some hospital slip-up. And of coz we all  lament over the horrible, terrible state of the nation. Everyone knows what's in store and nobody's happy about the old adage that still rings true - everything is rising except our salaries.

But then at the other end of the spectrum, there are people who have experienced great things happening to them personally in 2013. I know someone who had $10k dropped literally into his lap, and nope, it didn't come from any loving relative's will. How true it is that there are always 2 sides to everything. 2 people spinning the same coin of  2013 can come up with different results; one gets head, the other gets tail.

Me, I try to see beyond. It's what we are commanded to do as a people of God who believe in and look at the eternal, not the temporary and temporal things of what happens (or doesn't happen) to us. That's not to say I am soo super-spiritual and all. Being the mere human I am, I also want only 'good' things to happen in my life, ie things that make me happy, like when I see an increase in the number of people reading some blog article of mine - that gives me a (cheap) thrill for awhile. But as quickly as the numbers run up, give it 1 week, 2 weeks, it's already forgotten. Today's news so quickly become yesterday's history , buried in archives.
I remember when my editor told me the book I wrote some 2 years ago was in its 2nd reprint, (ie 2000 copies out), how my human flesh thrilled instantly. The dreamer that I am, I was all fired up with writing at that time, eager to start on many more books, relishing the thought of seeing my name in print - in real hard copy. But it didn't work out that (my) way; simply because, as I have learnt and accepted, God could very well mean this to be the one and only book I will ever write or get published. I have a sneaky suspicion that's necessary to stop me from growing a big head and thinking I am such a hot-shot writer; I am apt to forget all my talent comes from Him who is the Creator of every single gene in my body. Whatever I 'produce', He's the Director. And so I should just resign myself to the fact that  it's really His book and be grateful He can 'throw' it out to 2000 people in the deepest orang asli villages in Malaysia where the need is highest. That puts things into real perspective - it's  how great He is, not how great I am.

An article I read reported a survey about popular social media sites like Facebook and Twitter; apparently everyone's so hung up on them, because people just love to count how many 'likes' their comments garner or get shared around, or how many 'followers' they have. The latest buzz word which has been  officially recognized by the English Oxford Dictionary as word of the year 2013 is 'selfie' - 1 word that says it all about this period of time we live in.  A local newspaper termed it as a 'global obsession that reflects a kind of narcissism in our culture' . If we are honest with ourselves, whether its done in innocence, for 'fun', for ourselves or for others, at the heart of every selfie is simply 'self'. I can hear all the protests...Aww, come on, I should let up and get off my moral high-horse - surely there's nothing wrong with taking pix of oneself.  

I agree, but what's wrong is what has already been discerned as way back as some 2000 years ago; this sad indictment of mankind comes from the pages of a letter written then, "But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God"(2 Timothy 3:1-4). In fact Jesus went 1 step further to state that even the elect (ie those who believe God) will be deceived (Matthew 24:24).  It happened then, it's still happening, it will continue happening. And it can only get much more worse, not because I am a doomsday prophet but because it's what God says will happen anyway. What we do and how we do in life goes beyond action and happenings, but are representative of the deepest instinctive urges that come from our hearts, which we are not even aware of.

So what on earth is there to look forward to with every new year that rolls around come December 31? That there is an end to come 'after all these things', as the Bible puts it, that even 'heaven and earth will pass away' (Matthew 24:35) when Jesus comes again. So while I am still alive, while there is still time as we know it,  I would like to look for the eternal to celebrate as we bid goodbye to another year, ie stuff with a meaning beyond ourselves; the things that matter to God, because He deals in the eternal. Like what happened to my 2 relatives for whom I have been praying since the past 11 years. They don't know that, but God knows and God answered finally. They are amongst those I mentally classify as 'can only be touched by God Himself', because they are totally disinterested in the spiritual. Both are very capable, confident, strong,  hard-working, self-assured and decent people.

One is going blind in both eyes, but has always been  fiercely independent. At least till last month. I was totally taken aback when over dinner, he announced, I have surrendered to God; all because someone somehow cajoled him into going to church, which turned out a disaster initially because 'those Christians' kept praying over and for him at the altar (typical example of good intentions gone wrong). He left, absolutely disgusted. But despite the messes we Christians may make, God can turn all our mistakes around. Apparently all alone at home, he felt peace - in his eyes, of all places. I dunno how that feels, but he knows, and it's good enuf for him. The other relative tells me she has been made aware of how she always was too busy for spiritual stuff, but now retired and with painful athritis attacking her spine, knees and fingers, she is finally turning to what no human medicine can do for her. 

 I rejoice over what has happened to these 2 souls, not over their suffering and pain, but about the fact that they now have gotten in touch with the spiritual - the eternal - things of life. And I wonder for the umpteenth time, why is it that often it takes chronic illnesses or major life-crises before some people will 'tune into' God? In fact, even with that, some people still don't want God. Why do we choose to be so obstinate, fearful, doubting etc to refuse the love of God and settle for the love of self and the love of man? Why don't we care  what happens after we die? Why ask dumb questions, when the obvious answer, like the Bible already said, is because we are so full of ourselves, we have no place for God to work. Someone once said, God can't put anything into our hands when our fists are clenched (and I add when our minds are closed and our hearts locked).

Heck, I shouldn't wonder; I was the same 11 years ago, believing sincerely I am all that matters; that the world revolves around me and what I own and can achieve and all I have to do is just be a 'good' girl (ie don't hurt people) as much as I can. After counting down 11 years of Dec 31s and still counting, I can only say I would be tragically poor indeed if my life didn't go beyond that limited and rather myopic premise. I would have missed the hope in a living God, grounded in a challenging faith that takes me onward into an adventure of  awesome love. With that perspective, what's another 365 days (good or bad) compared to a glorious eternity already prepared for those who believe.... So here's to.... not a happy New Year ... but simply to blessed days now and forever after.....

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end" - Ecclesiastes 3:11
"The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever" - 1 John 2:17.

Even just 1

As usual the people were chattering amongst themselves. I purposely stood right in front of an aunty who was busy chatting instead of listening. But she just smiled at me and continued right on talking to her neighbor. Many times I wonder why we bother sharing our messages of love, hope or the good news of the gospel to an audience who by and large don't seem interested. If they have been around from the beginning of the street feeding work more than 10 years ago, they would likely have heard the same message thousands of times before. It is patently obvious many come only to eat the free food and get free medical treatment. Some will come in just at the time when food distribution starts, missing out the earlier part of the programme when the message is shared. I know these people only want their stomachs filled, they aren't bothered about getting their souls fed. I have to admit I get frustrated with such attitudes.


But this Saturday, God gave me a reason to hope again. After the food distribution, a man walked up and asked politely if he could speak with me. God forgive me because my head was entertaining the most uncharitable thought that he was going to ask me for money with some sob-story. I am pretty used to their antics and tactics by now. At least one thing I got right - he is a drug junkie. But he didn't ask for money. Instead he told me he was compelled to approach me for help because as I was translating the message just shared, something had gripped his heart. Something now gripped my own heart, as I told him it wasn't me but God talking to him through me. He was attentive for awhile as I explained the only One who can help him deal with his problem once and for all is Jesus Christ; because if he didn't get right with God first, he would just fall again despite his best efforts and intention to change. I told him, like I have told others before, the problem wasn't just the drugs; it was the soul that had gone awhack,away from God, and that was the real source of the problem. I noticed he was falling asleep on me. So I shook him a bit and eye-balled him, willing him to listen up. He shook his head as if trying to shake off something and told me, 'Aunty, it's not that I don't wanna listen, but there's a voice in my head that keeps telling me not to. I feel like an invisible hand is dragging me away from you, my legs want to run out of this place."

If ever I had any doubt that there is a very real spiritual battle going on for our souls, this admission from such an incorrigible character settles the issue.  I recall my dying husband telling me a dream of how he was standing in the middle of a battlefield; with 2 opposing armies, each side pulling at him. And once when I asked my pastor-brother why is it through some 25 years he never told me about Jesus before, he protested he did tell me, but I 'wasn't listening'. Many a time, on the streets, I have had people falling asleep right in the middle of my conversation with them about Jesus. I shouldn't be surprised. Heck, even in church people fall asleep when the preacher starts up. Could it be that I, or the subject of Jesus Christ,  is that boring? Apostle Paul puts it down to something more insidous at work - "... even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God" (2 Corinthians 4:3-4). In many places, the Bible talks about people having eyes that fail to see, ears that fail to hear.

Some people scoff at the spiritual as silly superstitious stuff which are the result of an over-active imagination, just because they are unseen and can't be proven. That's their 'faith' to disbelieve, just as much as it's mine to believe otherwise. More than exercising a 'right'; as someone said, even atheists need faith to believe there is no God. Yet it's God Himself who has 'dealt to each one a measure of faith' (Romans 12:3). It's simply a choice of where/what/who we want to put our faith in. Our souls matter both to God and the devil. I have been asked why is it your God can't save everyone and there are still people who go to hell? God can save, but ultimately it's up to us to make the choice to first understand we all need to be saved and then to put ourselves in His hand to be saved. God doesn't drag, force or manipulate anyone to believe; He won't even do magic tricks for us to make believing easier. He only holds up Jesus Christ for us to behold  - His blood-stained cross on Friday and His empty tomb on Sunday. If that isn't enough for man to believe, nothing will be enough.

 But since the man beside me wasn't up to paying attention anymore,  I stopped my sharing, and instead started praying for him. After the prayer, he asked for time to consider. I didn't push it;  enough had been said for now. I had planted the seed; that was all I could and was required to do. God would have to do the rest, for salvation comes from the Lord, not from man. I walked away with renewed hope and increased faith to believe that somehow no matter how far 'gone' we are, no matter how we dismiss God as irrelevant, He is still gracious enough to love us enough to keep on knocking at our hardened  heart's door.  On this Saturday, somehow in the midst of many ears which didn't hear , this one had perked up, and his heart had been quickened to respond, to take that first step out from ignorance to knowledge, from lies to truth -that's a good enuf start.... for this one. Even just 1 is precious to God.

"The Lord is not slack concerning His promise, as some count slackness, but is longsuffering toward us, not willing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance." - 2 Peter 3:9

Reclaiming the Lost

3 hours swash-buckling almost non-stop action, featuring not just one, but many handsome hunks should surely qualify as a super-duper movie in my books. Well, it certainly pushed my adrenaline levels up, but after a while, seriously it can get pretty tiring watching ugly orcs being beheaded or Bilbo the Hobbitt putting on the magic ring again when the enemies get too hot to handle or Legolas the handsome elf shoot 1 more arrow. And as for the centre-piece villain who takes the cake - Smaug the dragon which can't die, even when drowned in a river of hot melted gold, entitled the chieftest and greatest of Calamities, the Mighty, the Impenetrable, the Stupendous - after all the awesome slithering, sliding, lumbering, fire-spouting, tail-smashing antics, to me he was just a rather ponderous pompous wordy reptilian. (I am guessing dragons, if science had been able to catch one, would be classified as reptiles).Well,  at least the action was fast, furious and innovative. From skirmishes with giganto spiders, escapades in barrels shooting down rapids and popping out of toilet bowls to being buried in fish and riding on suspended rail-cars in a gold mine, it quite takes the breath away. After all that,  the movie ended suddenly in a disappointing cliff-hanger, which obviously means everyone will have to wait and see the next part when it comes out. I was put-out, I am the type who like their endings neat and not hanging in the air.

But notwithstanding the grouses, Desolation of Smaug is actually not that bad, if I take a step back and look at the big picture. That was precisely what Bilbo the Hobitt did - he looked up, climbed a tree and saw the reality beyond the enchanted forest which had them running around in circles. That could very well apply to real life too. We can get so caught up wandering around in the forest of our lives we forget to look up and so miss the grand destiny God has prepared for us. And certainly nothing can be grander than a quest to reclaim what has been lost to an enemy.

That was the entire premise of the movie, featuring  a little band embarking on a perilous journey to get back the precious Arkenstone which would restore the throne of the kingdom to the rightful king of the dwarfs. The stone had been stolen and was now guarded by Smaug the nasty fire-breathing dragon who calls himself Death. What an apt parallel with the journey of Jesus who came from heaven to snatch back the souls of earthly man from hell's jaws of eternal fire. Only He didn't depend on fancy swords, bow and arrows, clever wit, great ideas, legions of angels or magic staffs.  He simply got hung on a cross and by that one defining act of death,  broke its chains over all mankind forever. As Apostle Paul explains (Acts 13:23, 29-30), "...according to the promise, God raised up...a Savior—Jesus... Now when they had fulfilled all that was written concerning Him, they took Him down from the tree and laid Him in a tomb. But God raised Him from the dead". It took 700 years for the prophecy of the ancient prophet - that there would be born unto mankind a Savior (Isaiah 9:6) - to come to pass.

Interestingly the entire journey to the Lonely Mountain, the lair of Smaug, was based on prophecy too. The desolation had already been predicted, the way to enter the mountain also had been foretold. So in accordance to the prophecy, having made it on time and with key in hand, everyone waited for the last light of Durin's day (which happens but once a year) to reveal the concealed keyhole which would open the secret door into the mountain. The sun came, went and disappeared but no keyhole was revealed. What went wrong? The prophecy must have been a lie, a fable made up by ancient seers who had nothing else better to do than put false hope into the gullible. So everyone turned away and went back down the mountain in great disappointment that it was all a wasted effort. Everyone except Bilbo the Hobitt. And because he still hung onto the prophecy, though everyone else thought it was dumb to do so, because he choose to still believe  in spite of everything  that appeared contrariwise, he saw its fulfillment - the hidden keyhole was revealed in the last ray of moon -not sun- light. That moon was the real 'last light' of the day. Unlike the others who walked away, Bilbo trusted in the given word, though he was totally clueless and didn't understand why it wasn't happening the way everyone expected. 
  
How typical the human tendency to assume we are so smart and so right all the time. We cannot conceive or concede that God can do things a different way; it has to be our way or no way that God must prove Himself.  So throughout the centuries man expects the Creator of the universe to show up under the microscope of his science-god, to be taken apart, prodded and examined to 'prove' He is 'real'. And when He doesn't, we declare 'There, God doesn't exist'. We forget that from the very beginning God had promised that the One who will crush Death's head shall come out of of woman's offspring (Genesis 3:15). We are quick to dismiss the declaration of the angel who appeared to Joseph, fiance of Mary in a dream that "... what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because He will save his people from their sins.” Matthew added a timely reminder "All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet" (Matthew 1:20-22)

 Just like the dwarfs who were unable to appreciate things from a totally different perspective, we make the wrong assumptions about God, conforming the Divine to our 'box' and when He can't be thus confined,  we conveniently toss Him out as unnecessary, since life goes on with or without Him anyway. But whether or not we acknowledge it, the prophecies of God stand unalterable. God knows we need a Savior - to reclaim and restore unto us what we had lost through our own default  when man decided to call the shots and disobey Him. That was a long time ago in Eden. Today many don't even know they are lost;  many don't think they need God, much less any savior. 

The dwarf king threw away the key as useless even as he turned around and headed back the old way. Only that key could unlock only that door. God has designed a special key for us; He sent Jesus who alone can unlock the door into the best destiny God had originated for man from the very beginning. Instead because of our limited assumptions and presumptions we conclude Jesus is useless; we throw Him away and step back into the darkness and death that awaits us all. Bilbo knew what was at stake and he alone had the courage to wait. It does take courage to believe when there is seemingly nothing to support that belief.  If only we knew what we stand to gain and what we stand to lose, perhaps we would not turn away so easily and so fast from God. Perhaps we would dare take God at His Word and believe He cannot and does not lie. 

"....understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet’s own interpretation of things. For prophecy never had its origin in the human will, but prophets, though human, spoke from God..." 2 Peter 1:20-21

 
 

I like Frozen

I expected to see more kids at an animated movie; instead I noticed young adults formed the bulk of the audience watching Frozen during the evening hour on a week-day. I gather the show has been around for about 2 weeks, but appears to be still running strong, as seats for the earlier time were all sold out when I logged in. And I can see why. It's a delightful adaptation of the classic Snow Queen fairy-tale, with lots of funny dialogue, appropriate songs with meaningful lyrcis, amusing characters, and awesome awesome animation of something as ordinary as ice and snow. Never will I look at ice as boring old cubes again. And as for snow, man, if not for my nose sensitivity to cold, I would be sooo tempted to fly off to somewhere that snows, build a cute snowman and call it Olaf, and mayhap it will spew wise-cracks like the screen version.

At so many levels Frozen wormed its way into my heart. Who cannot but be taken up by the story of 2 siblings as different as winter and summer- the elder sister who by regrettably wrong parental training  grows up in such fear of hurting others that she becomes as frigid as  the ice she is able to conjure up supernaturally with a wave of her hands. Standing in perfect total contrast as an opposite foil is the younger sister, warm and naive as can be, who only wants nothing more than to play build a snowman and is so desperate for love she promptly agrees to marry the first handsome sweet-talker prince charming who waltzes her off her feet. Talk about dysfunctional families. It's so easy to relate to the tragic loneliness of both Elsa who chooses self-imposed exile, (literally and figuratively), as well as Anna, who can't understand the rejection by her own sister hiding behind a closed door all the time. Thanks to a re-wiring of Anna's head by a wise (??) rollypolly stone-troll which was the only way to save her from the deathly blast of ice Elsa had accidentally struck her with, Anna can only remember the good memories of their childhood.

But as we all know, life isn't always a ball of a good time. So right on her coronation day, Queen Elsa's greatest fear comes to pass when unwittingly in a fit of provocation, she went 'ice crazy' and unleashes such power that she turns the whole kingdom into an eternal winter. How often we do much damage to people  without realising or intending it. Heck, we don't need magic hands to hurt - our small bit of a tongue alone contains enuf power to pierce hearts and create mountains of unresolved bitterness in ourselves and in others.

So like all humans thinking problems can be solved by escaping from reality, Elsa runs away to the highest most remote pinnacle she can find and there creates a magnificent ice palace for herself (quite an architect she is too). It's so ironical - there  she is belting out a powerful song about freedom and "letting it go" , but she doesn't realize she is only deluding herself and living a life of deception. She has merely exchanged 'jails'. Being free to live her own life didn't mean she was free, really. Isnt that the greatest tragedy - living a self-perpetuated lie thinking it's the truth? Just like Elsa, we can so easily change our clothes, change our hair-do, build our own monuments and think we are doing fine,  secure in our own little world, doing what we like, how we like, when we like and call it independence, but in fact we are just kidding ourselves to feel good or right about ourselves.  Apostle Paul correctly surmised we are all slaves actually - its only to what/who are we enslaved - to sin or to righteousness, to self or to God (Romans 6:16-22). 

How Elsa reacts when Anna finally meets her sister after many adventurous perils is again exactly how humans react when confronted with truth. She just can't 'get it'; she creates a monster of a snow-man to protect herself (typically how we keep digging our own graves deeper and deeper, trying to solve the problem our own way) Succumbing  to the dangerous power in her, once again, unintentionally, she hurts the very person who loves her; only this time, a magic blast from her fingers hits Anna's heart fatally, which causes her to freeze slowly to death, moment by moment. And obviously the only cure for the heroine  is true love, which even the most knowledgeable wisest troll-magician can't manage.  I loved how they pulled a surprise on this one, they didn't settle for the usual traditional dashing hero kissing heroine to break the curse of death (ho hum, we know that one). Instead it was Anna's act in blocking off the bad guy's  (of coz there is at least 1 in every movie) sword falling down on her sister that melted her own frozen heart in her final moment. The sacrifice of her own life to save her sister was that true love needed to resurrect Anna from death. And finally Elsa 'gets it' - the only way to overcome fear is not to hide or reject others, but to dare to love and be loved. So like all fairy-tales, there is a happy ending.

It was Olaf the funny snow-man  who started up a fire at the risk of being melted himself just to warm up a "being-frozen-to-death" Anna who quipped "Some people are worth melting for". It was Olaf who defined true love - not the passionate kiss of a rugged mountain man, not the grieving tears of a repentant sister, but simply - "That's when you put someone else's needs before your own.." Like the act of selfless sacrifice of one's own life for another who really didn't deserve it. Which gives me cause to wonder many times whether Hollywood script-writers are aware of how biblical their ideas for movies are. 2000 years ago, Jesus Christ had already committed the act of truest, most perfect love in sacrificing His life on the cross for sinners such as I. I didn't ask for it, I wasn't aware of my need for it, I even rejected it at one time, just like Elsa rejecting Anna all the way. But it didn't matter to Anna; she just loved her sister, and she proved it by saving her life, even if it meant she had to die in the process. Exactly what Jesus did, sacrificing His life to save all humanity, when we don't deserve it. No one could love me (us) so that much. Jesus thought all of us are worth dying for. That's what true love and amazing grace is all about.

"There is no fear in love....perfect love drives out fear...We love because He first loved us." - 1 John 4:18-19

Quiet Miracles

I fully expected this trip to be a tough one. We were fore-warned it was cold and raining almost everywhere we were scheduled to go to. I had mentally braced myself for much shivering, sniffling and suffering as my long-standing sinus problem always acts up in cold weather. Before we left, I had already sent SOS for prayer support. As it turned out, it wasn't as bad as I  anticipated. I had some bouts of the sniffles, but nothing unmanageable which a thick shawl and lots of tissue couldn't take care of. Better yet, everywhere we went, the heavens held up, though rain-clouds hovered overhead. I don't doubt it was God's own hand at work; we pray, He answers; after all we are on His business.

When you are being jostled about daily in the back of a van , pushing some 3000 km (the most grueling of which was a 16hr overnite drive) over 10 days across highways, byways, and narrow village tracks, images begin to blur after a while. Everything starts to look somewhat the same... dusty roads, stretches of green fields, sun rise, sun set, remote villages seemingly appearing out of nowhere, weather-beaten hardened faces of the poor, dirty kids, run-down dwellings passing off as homes. So really there was nothing particularly spectacular about this latest India missions trip of mine. Except that I learnt a lesson to take to heart - that  miracles don't always come in flashy thunder-n-lightning earth-shattering displays of supernatural power. Sometimes miracles happen so quietly we aren't even aware of them, until we pause awhile to look back at the life that passed us by. So it was with this trip. It seemed a repeat of the many previous trips I had been on, except for a changing of the names of people and places. 

But now that I have the luxury of thinking about it, some precious things about this trip do stand out....The face of an upper-caste lady who had been widowed for 4 years, in whose eyes I saw the glisten of tears, evidence of a still-grieving heart. I didn't know, she didn't know we would meet but God already knew she needed someone who understood about a love lost and to tell her about a better Love available. I saw the same unutterable sorrow of a man whose wife had died suddenly in a senseless road accident. He needed to know (as I know) that though we may not understand a lot of things, we can be assured those who believe a resurrected living God have no fear of death because He says we will be reunited with our loved ones in the faith in a beautiful eternity when the time comes. That knowledge gives those of us left behind a solid reason to go on living and believing, not in the defeat of sorrow but in the victory of joyous hope.     

Some places stand out in my memory... The beauty of an expanded church , once a mass of gray concrete and ugly steel rods, now decorated with stain-glass high windows through which sunlight streams in to touch pews of warm wood. At the other extreme the thatched hut  of a young pastor working in the slum community with a roof so low you have to stoop to enter. Where the kitchen is just a little kuali sitting on a fire-wood stove in an area which rivals the toilet of a modern-day bungalow. His (family) toilet is a patch of ground outside, draped over with a piece of cloth. In such destitute and adverse circumstances, he carries on preaching to and living out the gospel of hope amongst those whose lives are bereft of all that we tend to take so much for granted. Those who don't know the God he preaches will never be able to comprehend the miracle that shines through their smiles, the way they eagerly come forward to be prayed over again and again, still choosing to believe our God is good.                           Everywhere we went, the children came crowding around. Bright shining eyes, curious hands reaching out to touch me. I guess I must look like an alien to them. They ask me questions I can't answer because I don't know the language, but they know instinctively how to hi-5 or shake hands, they are the ones running after the van waving furious goodbyes as we leave. They are the first to unabashedly raise hands, stand up and pray aloud after they hear the greatest story of how Jesus came to save the world. The cynical say that's manipulation, because kids don't know better. Perhaps the truth is they do know better  - they are not afraid to want to love a God who loves them.

And that's when I realized the most miraculous isn't the physical, mind-boggling stuff that surely an omnipotent God can do with a mere snap of His fingers to 'prove' His existence, whether it's 2000 years ago or now, irrespective that humans will debate, argue and dispute over. The real miracle occurs in the heart that allows itself to be touched by God, when one is willing to be vulnerable before Him- much like the child who comes in confidence to the father, not needing to know many or all things except the one thing that really matters - which is simply that his daddy loves him; therein lies his confidence.

So we did what we always do on missions trips- we prayed and we preached the truth of a living God who quietly does miracles in the heart that turns to Him. After all that is said and done, if  He  isn't true, I would have believed in vain, for which the worst thing that can happen is that I would have lived and died as a first-class fool. As Apostle Paul said "... if Christ has not been raised (from death), your faith is futile... If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied"( 1 Corinthians 15:17, 19) But if Jesus is the Way, the Life and the Truth, it matters not whether what anyone else says anyway, because in that case, I will be laughing all the way to heaven, conversely, who then is the fool? So like someone put it succintly, 'For the truly faithful no miracle is necessary. For those who doubt, no miracle is sufficient'.

"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him" - Hebrews 11:6

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Never Say Never (2)

As I stood praying by the infamous gallows of Tuos Sleng Genocide Museum, I knew my job in Cambodia was finally finished, at least for this round. I hadn't expected it, but the opportunity presented itself as we had some time in Phnom Penh after wrapping up our 5 days ministry in 3 villages outside the city. The burden to pray over Cambodia's horrific Killing Fields had been with me ever since I signed up to return to the land I said I never would 10 years ago. I had read up the history of the 4 years mass genocide that took the lives of an estimated 1.7 million victims at the hands of a mad man named Pol Pot. Tuos Sleng is but one of the many sites where systemic torture, detention, interrogation and murders were committed. Given a choice, I would not visit such a place, even tho it's a 'must-see' for tourists to Cambodia. But ever since I began missions, God has a funny way of taking me to tourist spots to pray. So pray I did together with my fellow lady team-member who had accompanied me, as our local interpreter/guide walked us thru the buildings of the complex, recalling grisly and graphic accounts of the murder of some 17,000 prisoners there. My eyes glanced thru row upon row of victims' photos and displays of human skulls marked by inflicted wounds. My mind could not comprehend the horror of such a tragedy in a nation's history. I was so choked up; all I could think of was the blood shed. But as we exited, we bumped into the sole survivor still alive today. The old man obligingly took a photo with us and as we posed smiling for the camera,  this thought flitted through my mind - in the midst of all that death, life - even if it's only 1 life - still overcomes. When it is most dark, even 1 little light shines brightest.   

This missions trip was not easy but it was a most satisfying one.  We spent some 9 hours on the road the  first day itself;  caught in a massive traffic jam as apparently it was the water-festival holiday period and everyone was on a 'balik-kampung' exodus out of Phnom Penh, headed for the ferry terminal to get into the interior provinces. At one stage our driver simply turned off the engine and the guys pushed the van along as we literally inched our way along the road jam-packed with heavy lorries and cars. It seemed to me the only people who moved were the ones on feet, motorbikes and bicycles. After finally clearing the jam, it was an arduous bumpy ride over narrow dirt tracks filled with muddy pot-holes.

At the first two villages, the whole team of (2) ladies and 9 men (4 Malaysians and 5 Cambodians) slept communally on the upper level of the local parsonage on bamboo-rod flooring overlaid with mats. Only in the last village did we have the 'luxury' of sleeping on the tiled floor of a 'proper church' building. It was tough on the back. But tougher for us ladies were the daily and nitely 'excursions' to the outside toilet/bath 'room'. Having nowhere to hang the million and one things we ladies need for our baths and maneuvering to change clothes by torchlight is no easy feat. Anyhow I have learnt to live with the physical inconveniences that are part and parcel of doing missions in remote places - every time I have to rough it out only makes me more appreciative of my own bed and mattress back home. I learn not to take mundane things like never-ending piped supply of clean water , clothes-line and toilet paper for granted.

Physical challenges aside, I enjoyed the ministry, especially the team camaderie. The 5 Cambodians who acted as our 'local connection' were fine young men indeed, ever willing to help with anything and everything; nothing was beneath them, they even cooked when there were not enough hands. The doctor worked overtime at every medical camp session,  seeing up to some 300 hundred patients in total, way beyond what would be his 'normal' daily quota of 5 patients.  And the pastors themselves were a true example of servant-leadership; getting their own hands dirty, lugging chairs, serving the villagers who kept coming for the free food and medical, standing for hours to pray over every patient who passed thru the doctor's hands. I was humbled just watching them work so hard.

Comparatively I think I did very little 'work' beyond preaching when called to,  teaching the kids now and then when I could steal some time  off from the adult sessions, and assisting at the medical station packing    medicines and checking BPs. In fact this has been my most relaxed trip. For the first time on missions, I had no pre-prepared messages, and the great part is it didn't bother me at all. I think I am finally learning to let God lead all the way instead of being the control-freak that I am prone to be. The messages came as and when I had to preach, teach or pray. 

I did notice the seeming lack of response from the people but one of our more experienced team members explained that it's the Cambodian way; they are by nature passive and gentle people. So I really shouldn't expect people to hands up or come forward when I issue an altar-call, unlike India. Thus I was most touched when after our sharing at the last village, an old lady grabbed my hand, grinned a toothless smile at me and muttered something in Khmer. I only found out later from my interpreter she was telling me 'good'. Just goes to show I shouldn't gauge the impact of the gospel message by outward response alone. After all the Bible tells us God's word that goes forth shall not return to Him void but shall accomplish His purpose (Isaiah 55:11)                          

10 years ago in Cambodia, I cried over the sight of kids eating plain white porridge. Now it was still white porridge but with lots of extras thrown in - meat, veg, nuts, chicken. Plus bread, rice, soup and dishes as well. And it was fed not just to kids but to adults too - anyone and everyone was welcome to sit down for breakfast, lunch and dinner, whenever and wherever we had our sessions. It's as if God wants me to see the abundance after the lack that broke my heart on my first missions trip 10 years back.                                                                            Yes, the people are still poor. Yes, there are still so

many needs. Yet in these 3 villages deep in the interior of Cambodia, all who came were not only fed with very good food (by their standards) and received basic medical treatment, but they heard the gospel message of hope for the first time in their lives. Donated funds provided the material needs, but that's as far as money can give them. The food and the medicine do not last, we foreigners come and go, but beyond all that, now these people know there is a God who can save them; spirit, soul and body, for all eternity. That  knowledge - the name of Jesus - is the richest treasure we  leave with them.  

             

On our last morning back in Phnom Penh, I walked about on my own a bit and found myself in the city's Olympic Stadium where there was apparently a kite-flying competition going on. As I watched colorful kites of all shapes and sizes being hoisted up and taking flight, my heart also soared. What a fitting finale to my trip - here was God's way of showing me a new Cambodia, rising from the ashes of a tragic past, freed to move up into a future that leads all the way back to Him. I am indeed much blessed to go back to the land I said I never would. When the call comes from God, returning to an old hurt isn't a bad thing. 


"...to comfort all who mourn...and provide for those who grieve...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair...They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations." - Isaiah 61:2-4

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Never Say Never (1)

I spoke too soon, when I resolved some 10 years ago after I returned from my first missions trip that I will never go back to Cambodia. There is an old old song whose lyrics goes "I left my heart in San Francisco.." I didn't leave my heart in Cambodia, actually my heart was broken there. Not over some ga-ga tall dark handsome super-hero, but over the children.
Some memories you will never forget. I don't remember anything much about the famous Angkor Wat, but I never forgot the sight of a line of orphans hidden behind a wooden building, squatting and holding onto their bowls of plain white porridge, whilst we adults were seated on a row of benches at the front. We ate the same white porridge - with a very obvious difference - ours came with fried fish. It was when I chanced upon the kids as I was hunting for the toilet that I realized what 'luxuries' we were being  honored with - wooden benches and fried fish. Shame on me for even thinking what a poor meal we were being served.  I never forgot the naked pot-bellied kids running around in the dust. Or the ramshackle little hut on stilts that collapsed under the weight of the crowd who had squeezed in to hear us tell strange stories of Someone named Jesus Christ. I still remember the sting of very cold well water as I struggled in the tiny dark zinc shed without any lights which passed for an outdoor 'bathroom'. And the sharp nip in the nite breeze as I stared up into the vast heavens overhead dotted with what must be millions of twinkling stars - they say in the clear air of the village, you can shine a torch upwards and it will light a trail cutting right thru the nite sky - and they are right. The little beam from my torch really did shine a 'road' up into the very heavens above my head. I felt I knew a little of what Abraham the patriarch must have felt when God took him outside to check out the sky and promised the  old man, “Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count them...So shall your offspring be" (Genesis 15:5). I remember the lump in my throat, the thump-thump in my heart when I looked up at the Cambodian sky. I cried a lot in Cambodia. That's why I didn't want to go back.

But God has a funny way of digging up buried things He wants us to deal with. So it was 10 years down the line....I heard the call very clearly as I was sitting in on a seminar in church. Go to Cambodia. I said, "Yes Lord, I am going...to India" for I had indeed signed up for the India missions trip in December. There was a tug at my heart as I heard the call repeated, Go to Cambodia. This time, I was (a bit) cheezed off and dared answer back..."No, Lord, I am not going to Cambodia. I am going to India."

And I thought that was that. Till lunch time when I found myself seated next to a sister who 'so happened' to be going for the Cambodia missions trip, which was 2 weeks ahead of the India one. Somewhat nonchalantly I asked if there was any need/place for extra people. I almost leapt for joy when she disclosed there was place on her team but no more plane ticket available. I said, "Great, no Cambodia for me." Then another sister piped up, "Let's check with country coordinator first." I said "No need, besides no way we can find her in the middle of this large crowd" - it would be looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack. Off she went, to reappear barely 5 mins later - with leader in tow, who promptly keyed in something on her so-smart phone and told me, "Yes, there is a plane tix, but it's business class". And again I exulted, "Halleluia, I can't go, too expensive, no money" Till the sister who had found her said, "You go, I'll pay your ticket." I protested, but deep in my heart, I knew I was being cornered by none other than God Himself - I had run out of excuses not to go. By the time the whole drama played out a couple of days later, it turned out there was a last minute seat available in Economy class after all. And that's how I found myself signed up for 2 missions trips almost back-to-back, in the midst of a zillion and 1 things I had to take care of at work. Like I said, God has a way of upsetting man's (especially my) carefully laid-out plans.

Someone asked me, why I am so reluctant to go back to Cambodia, when I can keep returning to India. After all, there is no difference between the suffering poor in India and the suffering poor in Cambodia. That's true, as Jesus said, "The poor you will always have with you.." (Matthew 26:11); they are there in every nation, in every nook and corner, even in our own back-streets, if we care to open our eyes and see them. I can only say Cambodia was an experience that so affected me it's like falling in love for the first time and getting one's heart all broken up. It devastates the emotions so much you don't wanna go 'back there' again even tho you may fall in love many times thereafter; but that first love that broke you did something to you inside that you just don't want to walk that particular road again.

But God seems to have other ideas. After weeks of seeking His face, I think I am beginning to understand why He's calling me to go back to a painful place. Some things in life we just gloss over and think it's done with. We can pretend, indeed we may even be so sure we have gotten over 'it', but in actuality, we are only putting Band Aid to cover up a gaping wound, and we delude ourselves it's ok. Well, God's a better Doctor than I, so I guess He's reopening an old wound to heal me properly once and for all.

When I was first told there would be a lot of children's ministry, I should have known already. Even as it's been confirmed our team will be journeying into 2 villages full of kids, my heart was already burdened before that to pray for the children of Cambodia. Now with the trip counting down to 4 days, I can honestly say I am glad I am going after all. God knows and I know Cambodia's children will break my heart all over again, but it will be ok this time....for over all these years, after so many missions trips, I am learning it's when my heart gets broken up a little bit more every time  that I grow up a little bit more too. And that's what makes life more meaningful at the end of the day - when we still care to love for others' sake when loving hurts. After all, that's how Jesus loves.


"Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14

Of Darkness and Light

One review rated it as a 'rousing tale of high adventure, war and star-crossed love, elemental forces and dimensional rifts, of getting hammered, streaking in public and god on the underground - an absolute doozy'. Another one said it 'delivers the goods - action, otherworldly grandiosity, romance, humor'. And I agree absolutely. But then I am biased about super-dashing super-heroes anyway, although actually I am a 'late bloomer' and only recently developed a 'taste' for Marvel Comics characters translated into the big screen. So I have missed most of the 'first installment' movies' which featured them, including the 2011 Thor movie which preceded this latest screening of Thor: The Dark World, which I caught on a public holiday.

Notwithstanding that lack, I enjoyed it thoroughly, not just ogling at the super-hero's muscles wielding his magical hammer, (which always boomerangs back to him whenever he stretches out his hand), admiring the spectacular special effects of a world larger than ordinary earth, or gasping at the fast furious and explosive action scenes. In some respects, Thor is rather like Lord of the Rings..the same epic style that sweeps you up into the grandness of fantasy where logic doesn't and doesn't need to rule. And Thor makes it so much fun. Especially in the entertaining exchanges between the hero and his step-brother Loki, the fictional Norse god of mischief.

But beyond all that, I was especially taken by the 'human-ness' that emerged during the second half of The Dark World. Surprisingly it was a 'by-the-way' scene of the funeral of a beloved queen who died trying to protect a mere mortal that brought a lump to my throat. Even mythical gods grief at death, and the sight of so many lights accompanying a burning barge where her body was let adrift on the waters drew tears from my eyes. Apparently I wasn't the only one whose heart was touched...I spied the lady beside me surreptitiously pulling out a tissue too.

Light vs darkness, life vs death - same old same old theme. There must be something to it that movies are always built around them. It may be just a line in a movie, but perhaps the wise King Odin's explanation is truer than intended, " Some believe that before the universe, there was nothing. They're wrong. There was darkness and it has survived." I am sure they took that right out of the first book of the Bible, "In the beginning....the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep...." (Genesis 1:2). Likewise the only thing that could dispel and defeat the darkness was light...guess again where that came from .."And God said, Let there be light..." (Genesis 1:3)

So even in movies, evil is always darkness. And what are movies without evil villains - Thor's nemesis Malekith is a Dark (what else!) Elf, who seeks to return the universe to its state before creation. By the end of the show, he literally becomes darkness. But beyond the traditional clash of the good vs bad guy, it was the drama of the relationship between Thor and Loki which stole the show, at least for me. Described aptly as the black sheep in the family, Loki is 'defiant, duplicitous, deliciously wicked, thoroughly unrepentant' and dead-pan funny.

But jokes aside, Thor's words to his brother, "I wish I could trust you" is really so sad. Imagine, you can't even trust your brother to help you. Come to think of it, whom can we really trust our life with? And what kind of brother would retort, "If you did, you'd be the fool I always took you for". Man, talk about a dysfunctional family. Whatever happened to love? And just when I thought there was a redeeming feature after all that simmering sibling rivalry and bitter enmity when Loki gets killed to protect Thor as they battle side-by-side against their common enemy, the ending springs a surprise and proves that Loki will always be Loki - scheming, devious, looking out only to make himself no. 1 (isn't that so so human). And Thor walks away from a throne which was rightfully his, presumably he gives it up to be with his one true love in another world.

That's what super-heroes are supposed to do anyway; sacrifice for love. But I know Someone who did it, not in a movie created in Hollywood, but in real life. He walked away from a royal throne, left His world and came to ours to rescue us from the kingdom of darkness which threatens to kill and destroy all, by allowing Himself to be hung on a cross. This is Love, that can always be trusted. Call me a romantic smitten fool, but I know such a Person can be trusted with my very life; He proved Himself true 2000 years ago when He rose from the dead; just like He said He would, even before He died. And just as Jane Foster the earthling patiently waits for her Thor to return to claim her as his own bride, I wait for my Savior, my real hero, Jesus Christ, to come back for me. One day, soon (but hopefully, not before the next super-hero movie!)

"When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, 'I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” - John 8:12

Call Me....Fanatic

Here we go again. After being 'complimented' for being mad, I was thrown another brick-bat by no less than a Christian who cautioned me against becoming a fanatic. Hmmm. So I looked up the etymology of the word. Apparently it stems from "fanaticus" which in Latin means enthusiastic, frenzied, inspired by a god, originally pertaining to "temple" (fanum) thus linking it to religion. In its modern form, fanaticism is frequently related to obsession, erratic or unreasonable behavior as a result of very strong religious or political beliefs. On a less serious note though, informally, a fanatic also describes a person who is devoted to a particular hobby, activity or pastime, as in the shortened form "fan" of a sports team, rock star or even a consumer product.
Well, if that's the case, I am fanatical all right. Even from way back in the 'good ole days', I was a big-time fan-atic of all the regular pop and movie idols. My room walls were plastered with their posters, I crooned along to their songs, bought cheap matinee tickets to see their movies and all in all, behaved like a typical ditzy teenager. But I don't think that's what my dear brother meant when he talked about being a fanatic; he probably meant someone like John the Baptist who lived more than 2000 years ago......a most colorful character who lived in the wilderness, wore clothing made of camel’s hair, had a leather belt around his waist, and ate locusts and wild honey. I always imagine John to have long, smelly, hair, a flowing beard, fire in his eyes and a voice that thundered his 1 message "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near”. He wasn't into pleasantries and had really bad manners, calling the crowds who had come to see him a "brood of vipers" (Matthew 3:4, Luke 3:7). He announced the arrival of Jesus Christ as the "One who takes away the sin of the world....who is more powerful than I , the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie..." For daring to speak up against a king's evil deeds, he ended up in prison and was beheaded on the whim of a dancing girl who happened to be the queen's daughter (Mark 6:22-27). True blue fanatic, yet of him, Jesus said, "I tell you, among those born of women there is no one greater than John." (Luke 7:28). Huh, what gives??  Fast forward 2000 years later...

I know of 2 dear sisters who never miss a chance to talk about Jesus Christ anywhere anytime. They are so direct they have no qualms in asking complete strangers 'Do you know Jesus?' just like that. Nope, they don't brandish Bibles or dangle crosses into people's faces; quite the contrary, they just smile the brightest of smiles as they wait politely for a response. I also recall a cell-mate who had occasion to visit some European country relating how he saw a chap standing at a street corner holding up a placard proclaiming "Repent, for the end is near". He said his first impression was that this guy was a religious fanatic - there's that word again. But then later he felt a little ashamed, because truth be told, he would never dare to be as bold as this chap who stood out in the cold, all alone, being stared at, ignored and scorned by passers-by. This modern John the Baptist didn't say anything, he wasn't hurting anyone, at least not physically,  but I am sure almost everyone would agree he is an obvious fanatic. Yet objectively speaking, looking at it another way, surely he was just trying to get people's attention to something he felt deeply about, albeit expressing it in very dramatic fashion.

So, is that 'obsession, unreasonable or erratic behavior'? Well, it's odd-ball, that's for certain. But is expressing my belief in a manner not quite acceptable to prevailing social norms wrong, when there is no force, violence or compulsion used in the process? Isn't that just a variation of the much-vaulted freedom of individual expression? Besides what's so wrong about being obsessed with something good/right, and going all out to share it with everyone else, even if not everyone agrees that it is so? To me, good news is like good food - if I know of some place offering yummy-licious food, I want to make it known to everyone. Whether people want to go there to find out for themselves if it's that good is up to them ultimately. Anyway if the message really is the truth, even though it's downright unpalatable and disagreeable to the vast majority, is it wrong to stand up for it? If I know there's an insidous invisible super-virus that inhabits everyone which will ultimately kill us , surely I am duty-bound as a compassionate fellow human being to sound the alarm, since I myself have been healed, even if no one else believes or even desires to be cured. 

I am no John the Baptist. I don't stand at street corners carrying doomsday placards or call people snakes or other animal names (animals are animals, people are people). I wear only 1 outward obvious sign that I am a Christian, and that's the cross my husband bought me before he passed on (I like to think of it as his going-away present before we meet up again in heaven). But I do believe the world, as we know it,  is going to end, I do believe bad news shouldn't be glossed over- that unless one repents and gets right with our Maker before we die, there really and literally is hell to pay. I also believe there is good news which must and should be shared at every opportunity - the news that was first proclaimed long ago by a fanatic named John - that Jesus came to seek and save, and that He will come again soon.  I believe not because I have some magic crystal-ball that shows me the past, present and future, but simply because God said so in His Word. It's the same message that is being continously proclaimed all over the world today by... well, fanatics who really can't be bothered much about what the world chooses to think about them, since they are basically focused on only 1 essential thing  -  to pass on the good news of Jesus Christ to as many as they can reach in their lifetime on earth.

Winston Churchill apparently said, "A fanatic is one who can't change his mind and won't change the subject." Well, believing what I believe based on my own personal knowledge, I can't change my mind about Jesus  because He has proved good, great and faithful to me all these years. And I can't change the subject , because to keep quiet about so awesome a love, so wonderful a life available through so gracious a Savior is totally irresponsible and reprehensible. So I guess if being all 'souled-out' for Jesus, wearing my heart out on my sleeve for Him, for all the world to see and hear makes me fanatic, then I absolutely agree and gladly confess- a fan of Jesus I am and ever will be.

"...We too are only human, like you. We are bringing you good news, telling you to turn from these worthless things to the living God, who made the heavens and the earth and the sea and everything in them..." (Acts 14:15)

The Highest Compliment

What would be the highest compliment that anyone could ever pay you? Would you settle for the greatest..prettiest..smartest..richest..sexiest..strongest..wisest..
whatever-fill-in-the-blank?? How would you like to be called mad instead? Mad, according to the online definition, means mentally ill or disturbed, deranged, insane, demented, disordered. Certainly not complimentary at all. A king once called Apostle Paul "insane" for talking about a certain dead man walking. (Acts 26:24-25) The Greek word used in the Bible means to be mad, to rave, as in the case of one who so speaks that he appears to be out of his mind, literally translated as to be beside oneself. To which Paul calmly replied, "I am not insane, most excellent (King) Festus...What I am saying is true and reasonable".

The other day, someone implied that I am mad, for the same reason Paul was called mad, that I always talk about a certain dead man walking. She said she hated that church had turned me 'nuts' about religion, her objection seemed to be that I could believe in a God so cruel that He would send people to hell for not believing that dead man, or something to that effect. I was very offended at first. In the first place it wasn't church which had turned me 'nuts'. I made a personal, informed, deliberate and purposeful decision to believe in the existence of God, in particular I chose to believe Jesus Christ as my Lord and my God. It wasn't as if I had no doubts or questions about a lot of things about Christianity, neither was my decision based on an 'emo' ting, although my emotions are definitely involved. But it certainly wasn't 'religion','church' or 'people' who "brain-washed" me. It wasn't even force of circumstance in facing the death of my husband, though that event was certainly the catalyst, so to speak, that sparked off my spiritual journey which began 12 years ago. This has turned out to be a journey that continues everyday that I live on this earth. One that has taken me to mountain-top 'highs' and deep valley 'lows', that has enriched my days with joy unspeakable amidst the uncertainties of life in a messed-up world, bearing the hurt of broken dreams and the pain of unspoken sorrows. I am just someone very ordinary and I dare say, normal. After all I have good and bad hair days, like everyone else. I laugh, cry. I get angry, I fail, I say things I regret. Some things I get all wrong. But some things I get right too.

And the one thing that I am glad I got right is my relationship with God. So does choosing willingly  to submit to One I recognize and acknowledge as the Creator, Sustainer and Preserver of my life make me mad? Does a passion to talk of and share the good news about Jesus Christ, whom I believe (after all due consideration) died and rose again, make me mad? Is it mad to spend my days loving God with all my heart, mind, soul and strength and trying to love others as He commanded me to? People have believed and done madder things surely.

Mad is for people who blindly follow without question, like the members of the Jim Jones cult, who committed mass suicide believing he was the messiah who would lead them to some utopia land of bliss. Mad is when you think it's ok to drop bombs on people in the belief that that will buy you a ticket straight away to paradise. Mad is for those whose minds become so indoctrinated that they turn into puppets or robots without personal dignity, without the privilege or even desire to think and ask questions. Undoubtedly, I am enthusiastic and zealous about my faith, but that doesn't mean I have lost my ability and capacity to think. I still retain my will to say yes or no to God. The fact that I can still disobey Him shows very clearly I have not 'lost' my mind and have complete freedom to decide if I really want to trust Him with my life. Deciding to go against the grain of the world, refusing to let it squeeze me into its own mold of conformity, choosing to believe (tho I may not understand and can't prove) there are things which go far beyond the realm of our 5 human senses, preferring to think I am not just a measurable mass of body tissue, cells and bones that will return to dust and ashes upon physical death, expecting that there is a heaven and a hell - do these make me mad?

If yes, then I dare say probably half the world's entire population is mad as well, since all religions believe in the concept of retribution, which is what heaven and hell is basically all about. Come on, even the irreligious can mouth platitudes such as 'what goes around comes around' - now where did that concept come from?? Science itself postulates about the law of effect and consequence. The Bible puts it simply, "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows." (Galatians 6:7) If we can shout so much about justice, we should believe in the absolute necessity of heaven and hell. There would be no justice if evil, unfairness, wickedness, oppression and rebellion were to triumph at the end of the day - our conscience tells us that is simply not right; it shouldn't be that way.  For whilst it is a fact that people can and do get away with all sorts of things in this world, we all want to see wrongs righted - ultimately. If there is to be true justice, there has to be divine retribution, something beyond the fallible whims and fancies of human caprice. If this world cannot provide it, there has to be another world, another Judge who can. And if justice is to be equal for all, both the serial murderer and the one who sins 'quietly' in his heart must suffer the consequence. No exception, like Jesus said, "But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart" (Matthew 5:28) Before God, all of us stand equal - guilty. It's not belief or non-belief in Jesus Christ that sends us to hell; rather it's our own sin, which none can deny, that condemns each and every human being.

Which is why the gospel of Jesus Christ is such good news for those who would acknowledge we are all but sinners in a fallen world; for He is the only hope of mankind's redemption, because He alone paid the price on the cross of Calvary. Last weekend, at the street-alley, I bumped into an old fren, who had re-appeared after about 2 years' absence. He told me he was still reading the Bible I had given him, he attended church now and then, though he was a bit confused about certain traditions and practices. I asked him why is it he chose to believe what I had shared to him then about Jesus Christ? He was silent for a moment, then in his shy gentle manner, he smiled at me and said, "Because He died and rose again for me". Man, my heart soared. Whatever else he didn't understand, he understood and chose to believe the very basic foundation of the Christian faith - that Jesus died and rose again, personally for him. But he continued, "I have a fren who also read the Bible, but he doesn't believe it; he keeps telling me it's all wrong. Maybe he thinks I am crazy".  It's no surprise anyway - many people read the Bible just to poke fun at and/or puncture holes in it. I wanted to tell my fren, it's ok, that would make 2 of us same-same crazy - we are in excellent company, with Apostle Paul.

As I pondered this, I realized I shouldn't take offense at all, if for believing that to be truth, people should classify me as mad. Quite to the contrary, I should take it as the highest compliment I can ever receive in this life-time. So in fact I should thank the person who implied I am mad about Jesus. Why shouldn't I be mad about a God who loves me so much, who has nothing but the best plans for my life, who takes me through all my days, over all my ways, right even through the valley of the shadow of death into life forevermore? That's surely something right and good to be mad about!

Thousands of years ago, King David was despised by his wife for leaping and dancing in the streets as he brought the Holy Ark of God back to Jerusalem. When she scorned him, he said to her, "I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes..., but I will celebrate before the Lord.." (2 Samuel 6:20-22) So far, my dancing for Jesus has been confined to church. Should there come a day when I can't contain my joy and it spills out into the streets, and people start calling me mad, I would dance even harder, sing even louder, share even more, because I am not ashamed of declaring I believe Jesus Christ who died as a man, but rose again; I worship a God who is  fully, fantastically and forever alive. So I am mad, so be it. I'd rather take my chances of being mad and right than sane and wrong. Hmm, I wonder, if/when ultimately it turns out what I believe all along is true, who will be calling who mad??

"Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of Me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven.." Matthew 5:10-12