What Would You Do to Live Forever?

My no. 1 princess wasn't too keen on watching the latest super-hero flick Wolverine with me; she termed such movies run-of-the-mill Hollywood bores, smacking 'full of testoterone and American nationalism" celebrating the typical male (ie supposedly superior) species saving the world and rescuing the typical damsel in distress, blah blah blah. She asks pointedly whatever happened to good old-fashioned movies of female power ? Me, I am not gender-sensitive with movies; I just enjoy ogling handsome hunks on screen and getting my mind blown off my 'oh-so-ordinary' life for 2 odd hours, and biting my nails, 'oooh-ahhh-n-ouching' my way thru a whole gamut of logic-suspended action. But at least she and I are agreed on 1 thing - Hugh Jackman aka Logan Wolverine is one eyeful of virile power and rippling muscles. I wonder though, why is it that super-heroes are always so 'brood-y' and seem to wear a perpetual frown on their foreheads?

Anyway,  movies are movies. And super-hero movies are just another genre of their own; like books and music with their own genre as well. Despite the same old, same old plots, I find there's plenty to like about super-hero themes - the ultimate triumph of good over evil, the struggles of human frailty and temptation, the consequences of choices and issues of freedom and responsibility in the exercise of power, and in this case, the exorcism of past pain and experiences. This super-hero had to come to terms with and let go of the guilt of having killed the one he loved. Isn't it so true, we all have our particular 'ghosts' who keep returning to 'haunt' us, be it events or people who have hurt us or whom we have hurt?  Heck, don't talk super-hero neuroses - we humans go thru the very same grand schemes of life! Here is a super-hero haunted by the demons of his past, unable to sleep, struggling against his own immortality because he hasn't got a reason to live anymore. Like the villain said, "A man can run out of things to care for, lose his purpose." A super-hero, stripped of his super power  - gee, they chopped off his claws! - revealed in all his vulnerability, pushed to physical and emotional limits. Forget the predictable plot - what's not to like about or relate to such a super-human hero?


As for the mandatory villain of the show, what provoking thoughts he aroused in his crazed search for immortality. This mad fella bankrupted a business empire devising a way to cure his terminal cancer by 'stealing' (he called it transferring; a matter of semantics surely) Logan's unique healing factor that made it impossible for the Wolverine to die. What an ungrateful wretch - that's the thanks our hero gets for saving his miserable life. Ahh, the quest for eternity. It's not so crazy after all; just look at how mankind tries all sorts of things to delay aging and extend this mortal life; the latest using cyrogenic freezing, which I would liken to human Snow-Whites being put to sleep, waiting till the Prince Charming of Science kisses her back to life when the time comes. Unfortunately no one knows when that time will come, if ever; so theoretically you could be frozen forever, waiting for science to catch up. Not much of a life in the meantime. But what Yashida the villain envisaged was different; he hungered desperately for a good life where he would be forever young, where his body would never succumb to disease or injury, since it would be able to heal itself. He hits Logan's hot buttons when he tells our hero, "Eternity can be a curse", yet at the end of it all , he voices the innate desire of every human being when he declares  "Life without end is the real meaning"...life eternal, and life abundant.

What would you do to live forever, in a world where there is no pain, no sorrow, no tears, no death? A super-hero movie script cooked up a zany scheme of 'substance transference'. I venture they probably got the idea from the Bible, which already promises it is possible, in fact, it is guaranteed. And yes, there is an exchange of life  involved. Jesus said, "Verily, I tell you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be judged but has crossed over from death to life." (John 5:24) The promise was sealed by His own blood, flowing from the cross where He hung dying for the sins of mankind. Yep, it is already a done deal. No need for fierce convoluted schemes of harnessing technology to prolong life in a giganto robot-coffin. Nothing else required except to believe and receive what God has already prepared for willing and open hearts.

But perhaps like Logan, there are some who don't desire a life without end after all. Perhaps this earthly life is enough for such souls who would look no further, expect no hope, live for this moment of time and just cease to be. The option is not without its attraction; no need to bother about heaven or hell, God or anyone else for that matter. Ahh, if only we can be sure that's an available option in the first place. Yet who is to tell what happens at death? Is it really simply a cessation of breathing? Or is it just the end of something and the beginning of another? No one can say for sure. Stories of dead people come back alive telling of an after-life on the 'other side' are often rubbished as products of an over-active imagination or a religious experience. But such accounts aren't confined to 'religious' people. And what if they are true? Who are we to say they are not, just because we have never seen the evidence or experienced it ourselves? If we can't even be certain how many other galaxies there are 'out there' really, how can we assume this earthly life is all there is?

Given the possibility that there is another life, what options we choose becomes of paramount importance, because what or rather who we believe is going to determine the life that is to come. As I see it, it would be highly irresponsible to oneself,  if one doesn't opt for what obviously is the better, indeed the only, option that points towards a life fulfilled in its highest potential in the here and now as well as  in the hereafter. Me, I'd rather hang my life on a hope, than on nothing. Especially since the source of my hope is not in weak, little, finite me but in an awesome living God who loves me and has my best interests at heart, even though  I may not understand everything. Sure, it would be nice to have the answers to everything under the sun, but I don't need that to believe God exists and Jesus loves me. Besides, why wouldn't I want to live well and forever, especially when it can be the best life as it was originally meant to be by my Creator?

I want to be able to walk with head held high like Logan the Wolverine in the end, finally reconciled and at peace with his human and immortal self, knowing he's got a reason and a purpose now to live. Meanwhile, I await the next super-hero to hit the big screen....


'He (God)  will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." - Revelation 21:4

 

Life in All Its Fullness

"Aunty, we are back to say thank you," the woman had come up to me just as I  finished translating a brother's sharing before the street feeding started. She was beaming a huge smile at me. As usual I couldn't remember the name, but I did remember giving some money to her and the husband some 2 weeks ago, because they were purportedly stranded in the city, after having arrived from Malacca in search of employment. I never cease to wonder how is it that people can just up and leave their families and hometowns with no apparent plan or money on hand and think they can simply land a job in the big city. What is it about KL that attracts people from everywhere who all seem to assume life is better where the bright lights are?? Maybe they watch too much TV. Inevitably reality hits hard when after days of wandering around, they find out they are competing against every other Mansor, Muthu and Ah Meng (and that's only local M'sians; I haven't added those from foreign lands) who is job-hunting as well. It's never my habit to give money to the folks I meet every Saturday at the street-feeding, except in rare cases when I feel particularly led to. I know very well I run the risk of seeing my money and the person disappear. Worse instead of being used as bus fare balik kampong or going to hospital, as the sob story invariably goes,  my money could very well buy the recipient's next drug/alcohol/sex fix.

But this couple was one of those rare exceptions when I decided to give what they needed to get home. So I was surprised to see them back in town. Turned out they had indeed returned home, but had been called back because they had both landed jobs in Shah Alam after all. And a good job it was; as factory operators, not only was it secure, but they were given housing as well. No wonder she was beaming. When I asked her if she knew who she should really thank, her smile got even bigger as she pointed up to heaven and whispered Jesus.

Before I could even sit down to talk further with her, a young chap cut in somewhat unceremoniously, "Aunty, you remember me..., Paul." Of course I didn't remember. Honestly these people must think I have a mega-brain capable of storing every one's names whom I meet over the years at the streets. But I vaguely remembered the face. "There, you got me to go to rehab centre...I no more on drugs, aunty, only still drinking, now I am working in Astro...." I still couldn't remember, but it didn't matter; hearing he was working was already a bonus as far as I was concerned. "I doing acting drama, aunty... tell people don't take drugs, or alcohol or simply sleep around with prostitutes, nanti get HIV..." "So why are you still drinking?" I had to ask. He smiled sheepishly, "I go church, aunty. I know Jesus" as if offering that as an apology to me. Well, at least he knew his Savior, and if he could get cleaned up so much as to hold a decent job, his Savior will get to him regarding the drinking sooner or later.

I was already jumping for joy inside. 2 'success' stories is really a lot for a day on the streets. But God had 1 more up his sleeve. Moving to the fringes of the crowd, I caught sight of another familiar, but long absent face. "Aunty, you remember me.." (Man, this was beginning to sound like an old recording) "You prayed for me years ago in the Klang bus station centre, I was crying, I never forget your prayer, thank you, God bless you. Jesus loves you." Needless to confess, I don't have the slightest inkling what I had prayed for this smartly-dressed man. But ya, it didn't matter. "Jesus loves you, and God bless you too, brother" was my glad rejoinder to him. " I know Jesus loves me, thanks to you, aunty. God bless you. God bless you" That was what he kept repeating, as he reached for my hand to shake. His clasp, his eyes said everything already - he knows God is real.

Now I was the one grinning from ear to ear. 3 real-life testimonies from ordinary people who have encountered the living God and are witnesses of His transforming power - this is really my day! But God had 1 last bonus for me. There were only a couple of people left. The man came  to sit beside me, as I was intending to go off. "I have a problem, aunty..." I looked at my watch; I had plans to visit my godma in the nursing home. The sky was dark with rain-clouds. But I couldn't leave; not with that kind of intro. He had just been released from prison. Another hurting heart that only Jesus can heal, another life that only Jesus can save. Once again,  I could offer no help except to point him to the One who is the Hope of all mankind.... 

A couple of weeks ago, I was asked why  I bother to do such 'good works' if I already am so sure of going to heaven. After all, if Jesus Christ has already done all that is necessary to 'save' mankind;  if by simply confessing with the mouth and believing in the heart that Jesus' death is sufficient atonement for my sins and I have thereby escaped the prison of eternal hell, why do I still slog out my Saturdays feeding the poor, homeless and rejects of society who most of the time, don't even listen to me share? 'Success' stories are few and far between after all. Why waste my time and energy doing all this goody-goody stuff  when I could very well just stay at home, do the 'minimum expected' religious activity ie go to church on Sundays, read my Bible, pray (or don't pray), sit back, relax and wait for the angels to beam me up to the pearly gates once my time on earth is over. After all, I already got my 1 way ticket to heaven from Jesus Himself, since I am saved by grace through my faith in Him. 
 

 The debate about grace vs works is nothing new. It continues to be a favorite challenge thrown at Christians. Other religions are very clear about good works; the motivation is to 'purchase' and accumulate enough merit points to attain a higher state of being or to 'earn' your right to a seat in heaven's pleasure-chambers. That's pretty logical and reasonable, but not so with Christianity. On the one hand, we are told that it is by grace we have been saved, through faith—and this is not from ourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast" (Ephesians 2:8-9)  But at the same time we are supposed to 'work out our salvation in fear and trembling' (Philippians 2:12), and told point-blank that "faith without works is dead." (James 2:20) A glaring contradiction, as astute critics point out, so which is correct? Yet if I have learnt anything at all about my faith, it is that Christianity doesn't offer any nice, 'pat' correct answers to those looking for logical enlightenment. Surely no answer doesn't make it a lie; it could well be that there really is no need (as far as God is concerned) to ask the question, on this side of earth, in order to believe the truth. After all He has revealed everything needed for us to make a decision - He gave us Jesus Christ.

I may not be able to write a doctorate's dissertation that can adequately address the issue of grace vs works. But my faith lies not in my ability to 'prove God'; it lies in the One who died for me, taking and nailing my shame, my sin to the cross. And that's why I 'work' good. Because, firstly, it's the right thing to do. If even people who don't believe in God do good (and some are so much better at it than Christians, which is to my embarrassment), surely those who claim to know God are expected to do the same, if not more, since these are always held (fairly or unfairly) to a higher standard of behavior. I do good, because Jesus did good, and if I claim to be His follower, I must follow all He did. That's the hall-mark of being a disciple which separates out 'mere believers' - people who call themselves Christian and yet don't live like how Christ lived, for which they themselves will have to account to God when the time comes. In any event, I don't let that stop me from doing what I know and want to do as a practicing, not just a believing, Christian.  I want to do my best for the world I am placed in; recognizing that this is my work for God.

But the most compelling reason why I do good is because it's my way of saying "I love You, Jesus and thank You,  for the highest good You have done for me, sacrificing Your life for mine." It's as simple as that. Loving Him is not an obligation I need to 'repay' God with my works; it's not a duty I must grudgingly undertake as part of some 'salvation package' for my soul. It's understanding and appreciating that I am meant to be a blessing, because I have been so blessed.

I drove home that day with an overflowing heart. This is what makes it all worthwhile. This is what life in all its fullness is about. I don't mean the assurance of a 'mansion in the sky' (that's already guaranteed). Neither do I mean the grateful thank-you's I receive from people whose names I can't remember. I don't even mean the improvement in their lives, although that's so encouraging. What is really my sweetest reward is the fact that they know Jesus; that my encounter with them, no matter how brief it was, the little that I did, led them to discover the truth of a living, loving God, as I myself have discovered.

"Now this is eternal life: that they know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom You have sent" - John 17:3

Goodbye is NOT the End

I learnt a new word the other day - 'ghosting' which actually has absolutely nothing to do with ghosts or things that go bump in the nite. It simply refers to the practice of leaving a party without informing the host. The writer of the article suggested guests should just quietly exit the door when they want to go, instead of the socially-accepted norm of searching out the host of the event to say goodbye. I can appreciate the arguments for flitting out of sight unobtrusively like a ghost, since I am really not much of a social animal at heart. I fidget at dinners (once the food is done with)  and I am not much good at small talk, especially at occasions where it's one huge mass of people you hardly know and all you do is smile, say hallo, fritter away the hours with mundane chit-chat that in essence means nothing and then say bye. Goodbyes, like the writer opined, can be pretty awkward especially if, like me, you are usually the first one itching to get out of the place (and the company) early. Becoz you risk being the spoil-sport to start a mass exodus of like-minded people who, in their hearts, are also secretly dying to go home but dare not be the first jackass to stand up and announce their departure. Ghosting takes all the pressure off since you simply slip away without anyone noticing. Truth is like the author said, most of the time, nobody cares about you leaving anyhow. You are just a dispensable statistic in the invitation list.

That's all well and good for social occasions. But some goodbyes are awfully hard to make and to take; I call these goodbyes of the heart. I remember my father when he sent me off at the express bus station on my first trip that would take me 300km away from home in the kampung to the 'big city' university, where I would have to learn to survive on my own for the first time in my 20 odd years of life.  My old man was never the emo type; no hugs or kisses, no tender "I love you"; just a wave of the hand, but he stood there till I could no longer see him through my own somewhat misty eyes. My first 'real' goodbye. I never got to say goodbye to either of my  parents at the end of their lives. My mom died in my second year at uni, even before I could make the journey back to my hometown. Years later my dad breathed his last on a cold operating table in hospital after suffering a heart aneurysm; he was wheeled out dead. They were my adopted parents; the ones who took me in when my biological mom died giving birth to me. My father  already then burdened with 5 other elder kids 'gave' me away to my aunt and uncle. Obviously I never ever knew my 'real' parents and merely attended my biological dad's funeral when he passed on. Some goodbyes never get said.

Some hurt too much to say even; I couldn't bid my husband goodbye; I just held his hand listening to his brother sing 'Amazing Grace'. I couldn't even cry, at least not at that stage. I guess I had what is termed as delayed reaction.  It was only after the funeral; at nite as I was trying to get used to the fact that I would never have him by my side in bed anymore  that the tears came. But looking back I am glad I didn't say goodbye. Knowing our God is able to deliver from death, goodbye really shouldn't be in a Christian's vocab. Rather it should be 'See you again, soon, dear'. 

It took me awhile to digest and believe what Jesus meant when He said, 'I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die" (John 11:25-26). It's an incredible guarantee that once internalized as the unshakeable truth opens up a whole new paradigm of thinking about and seeing life and death from a totally different perspective. A Spanish saying goes "If you do not raise your eyes, you will think that you are the highest point." I guess those whose eyes are focused only on what they can see in this world will have nothing to say except goodbye life, hallo death when the Grim Reaper comes a-calling. And grim indeed it would be for those who step into his realm, in accordance to what has already been revealed in Scripture. 


But the followers of  Jesus need never say goodbye to one another. We don't need to 'ghost' out of life's door either. Indeed I don't want to 'just slip away' quietly. I want everyone to know I live and leave in dignity and in hope. The party may end on earth but for those who believe and trust in Christ Jesus, the party carries on in heaven on a much grander scale than anyone can ever imagine. That's why Jesus came, lived, died and rose again to show Himself as the way, the truth and the life abundant - the hope of all mankind. As far as I am concerned, when my time on earth has run its course, I am going out with a bang, shouting goodbye death, hallo life forever more. And though I know that those left behind who love me will grief, hey man, it's ok; dry your tears and rejoice for me, as I will be dancing once again with my husband in heaven, safe in the presence of the Lord, our God.

"....we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope" - 1 Thessalonians 4:13 

Whatever Happened to Happily-Ever-After?

Every day they would troop out before the bell rang. We dismiss the 4 years old  slightly earlier than the elder 5 and 6 years old. The little ones would be led out by their teacher to sit in the area just outside our office glass doors to await whoever was coming to fetch them home. I always love watching the small tots at their antics. At that time, all would be obediently sipping  from their water-bottles as instructed. Some obviously pretending only, as the water level never moved. Some very proud to wave their empty bottles at me. Bright eyes looking thru the glass door, so trustingly. There's one little girl with the biggest roundest eyes I've ever seen, whom I am pretty sure will set male hearts all a-flutter when she grows up. There's a boy who will always pucker up his face and act as if he's crying - very good acting too, although sometimes there are real tears flooding his cheeks; he's always missing mummy coz he goes to a day-care babysitter. And then there's the one who is ever ready to hi-5 me as I step out to bid them goodbye. Sweet smiles that greet me every morning. I admit I love 'my' 4 years old the most-est. To hear them sing all off-key as they try to follow their teacher in class. To see their cute faces light up at something that interests them. Even to see them 'act up' naughty when they don't want to obey instructions. In one word, they are just sooo adorable. Ahh, the beauty of innocence.

Fast forward to their future, and I wonder what tomorrow holds for them? What will happen to their hopes and dreams?  Instead of happily-ever-after fairy-tales, it could very well turn out nightmares of destruction. I have seen too many, heard too many stories of wretchedness. A mother confides that after some 15 years of marriage and 3 kids, the husband walked out because he can't stand the sight of her face. I manage to talk to the husband, and as always, there are always 2 versions to a story, 2 sides to a coin. By the way, it's not only the guys who walk out these days; one lady who did the walking-out says she's given up; how many times can she forgive the man who keeps breaking her heart, she asks? I tell her Jesus says 7x70; she can still laugh as she confesses she can't do it; she's only reached 20x, and she's reached her limit.  Another stares at me and point blank says that there never was any love in her marriage; she could have had any man she wanted, but she settled for  this one to please her mom; a relationship doomed to failure from the start. 

Once upon a time, these adults were kids. Innocent kids with bright eyes and cute smiles. Where did the innocence go? Once upon a time, they had dreams, visions, hopes. What happened? Is humankind consigned to accepting their 'fate' in life ala que sera sera? I venture to guess it's no different with so-called 'success' stories; some lives can look very successful on the outside, but who knows what sorrows are hidden behind the glossy veneer? Did you ever wonder how is it fairy-tales always end up in happily-ever-after? I venture there must be a deep yearning in the human spirit for life to be an eternal joy. Isn't it sad that the reality can be so far removed from the fairy-tale? The cynical would scorn, "Wake up, dreamer. Life isn't, can't be, a fairy-tale. Welcome to the real world."

But once upon a time, there really was meant to be a happily-ever-after story. Take it from Adam and Eve in Paradise. God created everything good and handed it all over to them. It was all very innocent, it was meant to be that way.  In fact it was so innocent the bible records 'Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.' (Genesis 2:25) Interestingly the word 'innocent' has a much wider implication than just 'harmless' as we tend to understand it. The dictionary defines innocent as free from moral, legal or specific wrong, pure, guiltless,without sin, not involving evil intent or motive. The first human couple had everything they could possibly need, and more - they were meant to live forever in innocence and in  perfect unity loving each other and loving their Creator God. Now that's one heck of a fairy-tale indeed.

The famous prolific author Hans Christian Andersen stated, "Every man's life is a fairy-tale written by God's fingers." That's literally true; God did mean every human life to be a fairy-tale. Only somewhere along the way, man lost the plot. The first marriage ended in the first quarrel and I guess it's been downhill since then, not only for our ancient ancestors Adam and Eve, but for the rest of us as well.  So it was that both Adam and Eve took it upon themselves to re-write their (and by extension, our) life story. The rest, as we say, is history. Tellingly the first thing Adam muttered when confronted by God was "I heard You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid". Immediately God said, "Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?" (Genesis 3:10-11) There it is, the first loss of innocence - feeling shame over nakedness. I wonder if perhaps all our preoccupation with the human body, sex and sexuality issues can be traced to that one particular moment in time when Adam lost his innocence with 1 bite into temptation-fruit.

More than innocence was lost that day in Paradise. Who would have thought a small bite at a little fruit could blow up to be such a big deal? In case some of us are still thinking how miserly God must be to begrudge us a little something to eat; actually it was never about the eating or the fruit. It wasn't the action per se; rather it was the heart's attitude that spelt rebellion. An attitude that said, "I don't believe God; in fact I don't need Him. I can do just what I want." With that, the fairy-tale got all twisted up in the labyrinth of sin's rebellion without any happily-ever-after ending in sight.  The first human family got evicted from their home with God, doomed to die in eternal separation from their erstwhile destiny. That's how it would have ended for all of us as well , if not for the hand of a  merciful God who took it upon Himself to write another chapter for man's life. Perhaps an apt title for this chapter would be "The Sequel : Jesus Christ"; who came to restore man's innocence, to empower man to overcome death and live out a new forever real fairy-tale again. But there is a catch  - we ourselves have to open up our book and insert the new chapter inside to get to that happily-ever-after ending. Otherwise, like Mr Cynical would say , the good news of Jesus Christ is just another feel-good useless fairy-tale, left to gather dust on the table of unbelief.

"For just as through the disobedience of the one man (Adam)  the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one Man (Jesus Christ)  the many will be made righteous" - Romans 5:19

Of Bees and Miracles

The alarm was raised by one of the Mandarin tuition teachers; there were bees in the school.
Apparently folks in the neighborhood had set fire to smoke out a bee hive somewhere behind our premises, which resulted in them 'migrating' over. It wasn't just one or two bees, there was a very visible swarm clinging onto the ledge of one of the windows on the stairs. I wondered why they had to choose a narrow window ledge inside when there was a big tree outside just meters away in our compound which surely was a much more naturally appropriate place for bees. Thankfully, school had dismissed for the day. As it happened, the pest-control guy was around doing his usual monthly spraying but he refused to spray the bees. According to him, we had to wait till the bees built a nest first and then spray it with a different chemical solution to get at the queen bee. I was horrified; my mind already imagining a huge hive and bees buzzing in our hair. Goodness, that would be disastrous for the safety of the 200 odd kids coming into school tomorrow; not to mention the adverse 'publicity' when parents got hold of the news. But there really was nothing that we could do right there and then.

Only 1 thing remained; I grabbed hold of one of the teachers still in school and prayed. Back home, I sent up urgent petitions to God to do something about those bees. The minute I got into school early the next morning,  I rushed to the stairs, fearing the worst. What greeted my eyes made me gasp aloud. There on the floor was a clump of bees, all quite dead. Somewhat bemused, I recalled the Exodus miracles that Moses wrought, banishing frogs, lice, flies and locusts over the land of Egypt (Exodus 8-10). But my logical mind told me to check first. So I queried our cleaner-lady; nope, she hadn't sprayed anything on the bees, in fact she had been so scared she had quickly finished up her duties, locked up the place for the day and gone home. And nope, the pest-control man had not sprayed anything on the bees either.

So what happened? Someone ventured that probably the bees must have been in contact with some chemical being sprayed over their nest before they were smoked out and migrated over. That was the most likely scenario, but that didn't explain why the bees ended up on a window ledge inside the stairway  nor how opportune the timing was, with everything happening when there were no kids or parents around. The miracle wasn't in the bees dying, but in their appearing and dying as they did, in an empty school. And that certainly wasn't due to any chemical effects or coincidence. Only a God who created time  and is beyond time Himself can arrange things to happen at precisely the right moment. 

I knew this was more than just about bees. Just a month or so earlier, God had answered another of my prayers in a spectacular way. My son had adamantly insisted on taking up Chemical Engineering for his university study. There were only 2 local uni's whose Chem Eng degree was recognized by the professional Institute of Engineers. One was way beyond my budget, the other rejected him as his subject marks didn't qualify him for entry. I asked my son to consider another course; he refused. I took the issue up with his Abba Father in heaven, as I sent in a written appeal to the uni. After 2 weeks of me biting nails in suspense, my son was allowed to register on condition he pass the first semester exam subject. 

But this was nothing compared to what happened when I prayed regarding my son's transportation to his new place of study. Using public transport meant the boy would probably be spending some 3/4 hours on the road, for it would involve him taking 1 LRT and 2 buses, which is, practically speaking, an impossible situation. So I "threw" the problem "upstairs" care of Jesus Christ, my Intercessor. In my limited mind, I was hoping maybe my son would be able to secure a lift from a fellow student or something along those lines. I also knew my neighbor had an old Proton which was left lying around since their son took off overseas, so I approached her with the idea to buy it . I was still reconsidering the price tag when she called me up and told me to get ready the transfer forms. I didn't quite 'get it' initially; I thought she was renting the car to me. Then it finally dawned on me she was talking of transfer of ownership; I told her I was thinking about the price. She says, "No, no, you can have it for free." I have never in my life received a free car. Heck, even between relatives, borrowing a car isn't easy, what more getting a car absolutely FOC (free of charge). What she did is really way beyond kind or neighborly. Never in my life did I expect a free car to be dropped literally into my son's hands, from someone who is for all intents and purposes a stranger.

Yet she is really not a stranger; at least not anymore. I remember the first time I stepped into this neighbor's house some 9 years ago to share the message of God's love to her; she politely showed me the door then. That had started me praying for her until the day she finally came to Jesus Christ herself some 2 years back. She may not be my blood relative, but she is very dear to me as a sister in Christ in the family of our God. Even then, to donate away a car is magnanimity out of all proportion, considering I have done her no favors and she owes me nothing. It was God who saved her, not I. It was God who helped her in the time of her trouble when she turned to Him; it is God who continues to help her even now. So why the generous gift? I can only put it down to God's mysterious ways, positioning me to be in this particular situation at this particular moment in time, moving her heart to meet my need  in the spirit of His love. He makes her a blessing to be my blessing. God is truly able to do exceedingly abundantly above and beyond anything we can ever ask or think.

And that's what miracles are about. Not a fantastic 'magic show' that is staged for man's applause or to 'prove' there is a God, no need for  thunderclaps and lightning from heaven. Jesus' first miracle was done at a wedding party where He turned water into wine for a whole 'kampung' of guests without any fanfare. No one except the lowest servants and a handful of His followers knew in the first instance. 3 years later, the greatest most dramatic miracle of all time was played out on a cross where He hung dying; yet no one figured it out, not even those closest to Him. Nobody could ever imagine that damning death could be overcome and overturned into eternal life, or that by that 1 single act of sacrifice, all of mankind could be saved. It was an incredulous, impossible, incomprehensible mystery. It still is.... and that's what makes miracles miracles.

Dead bees and a free car. Wine for a wedding and salvation for all. When we care to trace the invisible hand of a loving gracious sovereign God in all things, big and small, ordinary or uncommon, happy or sad,  that's when we grasp the wonder of miracles in life and we become most blessed of all creatures. GK Chesterton had this to say, “We are perishing for lack of wonder, not for lack of wonders.” C.S. Lewis talks about miracles as a "retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.” That simply means some of us 'get it', some of us just don't. It was a rock star (Jon Bon Jovi)  no less who said, "Miracles happen everyday. Change your perception of what a miracle is and you'll see them all around you." Even an ex President (Corazon Aquino) has no qualms admitting, " I am not embarrassed to tell you I believe in miracles.". Well, that makes two of us.

Indeed I consider the very fact that I can wake up to a brand new day every morning a miracle in itself, for my life is not in my hands. And the grandest miracle of all - the salvation of my soul. Unsee-able through human eyes, incomprehensible through human intellect. But that doesn't make it any less a miracle; for at my death, its certainty will be manifested when angels usher me into heaven to meet my Maker.

 "For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes" - Romans 1:16

4 Women and Hope

It was a roller-coaster day. The morning had started off with such pomp. Watching a radiant bride walk down the aisle to stand by the side of the beaming groom is always such a heart-warming experience. I find Christian weddings so beautiful because of the exchange of vows as the bridal couple declare their pledge in public; it is this that, to my mind, elevates the ritual of ceremony into something eternally meaningful. Heck, I didn't even know the bride or groom; I came at the invitation of the groom's mom. But that didn't stop me from vicariously experiencing the joy of  holy matrimony of a man and a woman, joined before God who decreed right from the beginning the reason for marriage - that "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him." (Genesis 2:18). How  appropriate it is that God created Eve from one of Adam's ribs, as the popular quote goes, "Woman was taken out of man; not out of his head to top him, nor out of his feet to be trampled underfoot, but out of his side to be equal to him, under his arm to be protected and near his heart to be loved" And what a compliment Adam paid Eve, when he declared her "bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh" (Genesis 2:23). Ahh, I am such a hopeless romantic at heart....

But all the euphoria evaporated when I got to the street-feeding alley after the wedding luncheon. I saw the 2 ladies of the street I had ministered to last time. They were still with their 'boyfriends' of the day. One of them a  young widow told me they called her Jennifer, after J.Lo. Yes, she was still very much in her 'bloom'. But I knew if she carried on like this, she would end up a wilted flower, flung aside soon enough or 'passed around' like a toy to be used by the men who would come and go in her life. I had no heart to warn her even as she spoke of wanting to quit her addiction and going home to see her kids. I sighed and did the only thing I knew to do for these people; I prayed for God to turn them around, as only He can. The other lady sought me out as I sat talking to an old man who had come in late and was still eating. She was getting skinnier and more haggard now. I know she isn't well, she puts it down to gastric, I suspect it is HIV. I tell her she needs to go to hospital, she asks for money. I refuse because I know if I give, I could very well be signing her death-warrant as she was sure to waste it on drink, drugs or both. I tell her we are ready to send her to hospital ourselves anytime she wants, she hangs her head. I ask how long she wants to keep the Jesus who loves her waiting. I held her bony hands in mine and kissed them. She lifted my hand to return the kiss, smiled a sad little smile and walked away to the man who was hanging around waiting for her....

My last stop for the day was a nursing home, which I visited regularly to look in on my late husband's god-ma. I was surprised to find the gate closed for the first time, but apparently there was a new inmate, an Alzheimer patient, prone to wandering off on her own. I spied her walking around as if she owned the place. She was a sprightly old lady; very quick indeed to get away from the attendant who was momentarily distracted; down the garden slope she went and surprisingly she was strong enough to push open the heavy gate herself. They had to restrain her by tying her hands down to the chair arm-rests with bandages. But even then, she managed to unloosen one hand by herself. The sight saddened me. My godma remarked if ever she lost her mind like that, she would rather the doctor give her a lethal dose, like putting a dog to sleep.

 I couldn't sleep at nite. As the images of the  4 women flitted across my mind, I wondered about their lives. Surely they all started out with some hope at least at some point in time, whether it was the carefree innocence of childhood, the wonder of falling in love, getting married, bearing children, holding the first baby or other moments of significance. But where does it all end? Is every hope condemned to culminate in broken dreams, sickness, white hair, senility and eventually death? From the altar to an old folks home. From the cradle to the grave. Is that what life is all about? What hope is there for the soul that's been there, done that? After experiencing all the wonderful mountain-top highs and surviving the depressing valleys of life, what is left? A slide down the slippery slope into oblivion? Surely there has to be something more, much more than just ....this life.

Someone put it succintly, "You've gotta have hope. Without hope, life is meaningless. Without hope life is meaning less and less." Oscar Wilde painted a neat picture of hope - "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." That's all very poetical and profound, but what exactly are we mortals to hope for, when the reality is that life on earth is finite, when what we see is what we get, or is it? It has been wisely said by Don Quixote, "Sanity may be madness but the maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be." Or to put it another way,  to see life just as it seems is insane, for then we miss what life should (and can) be.

Apostle Peter talked about an alternative certainty where, "In His great mercy He (God) has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,  and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you" (1 Peter 1:3-4) - this is the real hope that propels life from ordinary to extraordinary, from natural to supernatural, from earthly to divine, from temporary to eternal. This is the fantastic promise guaranteed and sure to come to pass for those who  "Though you have not seen Him (Jesus), you love Him; and even though you do not see Him now, you believe in Him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy,  for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls." (1 Peter 1:8) Hope is what Jesus came to give to a world without hope, for the world is bound to go the way of death. Indeed He died but not into hopelessness, for He arose alive - becoming a living, ever-present, blessed hope for all who believe.

I have passed many milestones in my life; walking down its road as a bride, mother and now a widow. My hair is already turning white, and surely the day will come when I breathe my last on earth. But death holds no fear for me, because I know whom I have believed. I have a living Hope, and He will bring me home where my inheritance awaits in heaven; there I will live and never die.

"That is why we labor and strive, because we have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all people, and especially of those who believe" - 1 Timothy 4:10