Dangerous Times

Malaysians are a worried lot these days; that includes everyone - rich, poor, young, old, male, female, Malay, Chinese, Indian and others. How not to be worried when the statistics are so ominous.... 10 public shooting incidents in the past month with 5 deaths, murders rose a whopping 11% in the first 6 months of 2013 alone, and the bad news keep rolling in; everyday there are reports of crime in the news and on social media. It's gotten so bad apparently people no longer dare 'lepak' at 24 hr mamak stalls deep into the nite, or even dine in popular restaurants for fear of getting in the way of some trigger-happy robber. We blame the government, police, criminals on the loose, drug addicts, gangsters, foreigners; might as well throw in the devil too.

A few years ago, my house was burgled. Thank God no one was home at the time, and apart from the kids' Chinese New Year ang-pows and 2 cameras, there wasn't (there still isn't) anything valuable in the house to cart off. There was a security guard-post 3 doors away, and the back alley was sealed off by a very high fence which was locked all the time. Well, that didn't deter the thief. Some time after that, a neighbor down the block got slashed in the abdomen by intruders who pushed their way into the house as the wife was gardening. So our efficient RA beefed up the security; kudos to them. Yet just recently about a month back, my neighbor's house by the corner was broken into. The intruders were so smart they cut the wires to the alarm system and hacked down the front door. But the alarm still went off, and that scared them. Their son was the only person in then but he slept thru it all upstairs; thankfully their room doors were locked and he was unharmed. Like someone commented, we all have either been victims ourselves or know someone who has been a victim of a house break-in, snatch-theft, mugger, or worse. So we lock our cars, bullet-proof the windows (if we are that rich), install alarms, CCTVs and multiple locks all over the house, carry umbrellas, pepper sprays and whatever, take up self-defense martial arts, pay for guards to patrol our housing area, endure the inconvenience of boom gates and blocked access roads around the neighborhood ...and still feel unsafe, knowing that at the end of the day, although all these deterrents are good, they are only a prevention at best, never a guarantee of safety. Evil can and does strike unexpectedly all the time.

Funny, how we can be ever so concerned over the safety of our person, property and possessions, yet we aren't bothered with something even more important than all that. Jesus said,"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell."(Matthew 10:28) We fear man so much but we thumb our noses at Almighty God, the One who actually determines whether we will even wake up tomorrow morning. We spend our hard-earned money on all sorts of gadgets to ensure our physical protection but refuse the free gift of our soul's salvation, which God in His grace and mercy extended to us through Jesus Christ. We try our hardest to preserve our limited lives on this earth, yet ignore the eternity of heaven and hell. And we are supposedly the most intelligent species on this planet.

Jim Elliot, missionary to the Auca (Waodani)tribe of Ecuador, said "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose". In 1955 together with 4 other young men, he ventured into uncharted jungle territory, attempting to reach out to an isolated tribe reputed to be the fiercest in the Amazon, one which had never been conquered or colonized, known for their violence, against both their own people and outsiders who entered their territory.(Awqa in Quecha language actually means savage) The team air-dropped gifts into the village and 4 months later in 1956, finally landed and set up camp by a river. But within 5 days, they were all speared dead by the tribe members. Apparently the Christians had guns but they didn't use them in retaliation. Many would deem these matyrs too idealistic, dumb even. They practically 'asked' for it, knowing well the risks and foolhardiness of their actions. But they were a different breed of men of a different mind-set with totally different priorities. They gave their lives away for a cause beyond themselves. They didn't bother to defend themselves because they already knew the secret - human lives aren't secured or protected by man-made means. Jim Elliot talked of a life that can't be lost, even though his body can be, and indeed was, killed off. He trusted his Maker's promise that they who believe in Jesus Christ "will live even though they die" (John 11:25)

That's a fantastic incredulous promise. No wonder many people can't and/or won't believe it. Jim Elliot and his friends didn't come back from the dead (I venture they are already having a party with God) but the One they believed in did, 2013 years ago. Though they never saw Jesus, living in the modern 20th century, they believed Him. Jim's entry in his college journal read, " Lord, I pray Thee, light these idle sticks of my life and may I burn for Thee. Consume my life, my God, for it is Thine. I seek not a long life, but a full one, like You, Lord Jesus." How presumptuous we are to think that our life is our own. How vain our efforts to cling onto what we actually cannot keep safe. Yet to what end these missionaries' death? History records that a widow and a sister of the men (Elisabeth Elliot and Rachel Saint) went back into the jungle to reach out again to the tribe, even living with them. The result? - the conversion of many, including some of the very men who murdered their loved ones. Was it worth it? Jim Elliot and his kind thought so. He went all the way to his cross, just like the One he called Lord. Salvation of souls mattered more to him than safety of self.

We might well ask what's the big deal of Jesus dying on the cross? The big deal is the cross is about your life and mine. If we can place such a big deal on the safety of our material well-being, shouldn't it be an even bigger deal to seek the salvation of our souls? The worst thing that man can do is kill the physical body, but that's no big deal for those like Jim Elliot and company who know whom they believe has delivered them from death into everlasting life through the cross of Jesus Christ.

So what am I going to do in these dangerous times that we live in? My world may not be exactly the Amazon jungle, though it certainly qualifies as a concrete jungle. What's more, it sure feels like there are many 'savages' lurking around ever quick to raise deadly weapons to steal, kill and destroy what I hold dear. I could spend my days moaning, complaining and worrying about the safety of self and family. I could barricade myself behind all sorts of protective devices. But I don't want and I don't need to live in fear, though all around me, there is indeed much to fear. I know after doing all I can do to be wise and take precautions, the fact of the matter is whilst no one and nothing can guarantee my safety, there is One who has guaranteed my salvation, which is by far the only important thing that matters when I face death, as we all must one day anyway. Thus I can leave my life in God's hands, for in my salvation through Christ, I am already safe as safe can be. And that means I can sleep in peace, knowing all is well with my soul.

"Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life will preserve it." - Luke 17:33

Runaways and Prodigals

The house was converted into a zoo over the Hari Raya hols. The existing population of 4 humans, 3 cats and 3 gliders (already a pet-shop) ballooned with the addition of 2 other cats, which the boy had agreed to 'baby-sit' for a fren. Don't ask me how I can tolerate living like this; it's no wonder my sinus keeps acting up. The felines just kept coming after the hubby brought in the first pair umpteen years ago. He was very much into animals; before I knew him, he already had 2 dogs in his family. After we married, I remember he would spend hours cleaning his aquarium stocked with goldfish, carp, or whatever happened to catch his fancy. I have no problems with that; I like fish; they are pretty...as long as it's not me cleaning up their watery homes. Actually, I tried my best to keep it up after his passing but I decided one day, enough was enough, I don't want to waste half my life, sifting through sand and hosing water into huge tanks, no matter how pretty the critters inside were.

Then there were the rabbits and the birds, but one rabbit disappeared through the hole in the backyard fence, and one bird got eaten by the cat (at least that's what we suspected, since the cage was full of feathers) so that was that. Still cats have always been part of the family. My no. 2 takes after the dad, except she's into more exotic stuff - like gliders. She's handled 6 so far, if I remember correctly. I always wish she would be as conscientious about cleaning her room as she is about their cages, but that's another story. Some months back, 2 adventurous little gliders went out gallivanting; one came back, the other didn't. And would you believe it, the prodigal did it again recently. But this time he got smarter - he stayed closer to home; I found Eli making himself comfy in the laundry basket - thankfully I had checked before I threw its contents into the washing machine; otherwise there would have been one very wet (and probably very dead) glider in the wash.

Actually animal antics teach me a lot about life. There's sweet old Uggy who never strays but is content to eat, sleep and be loved by everyone in the house. You can say she's the smartest (or laziest) of the lot - she knows a good deal when she has one, and she sticks with it. Hai, if only we humans would be content with and accept the good deal God has already prepared for us. Such a contrast from Zaza, the current reigning 'queen' cat in our home who has that wild streak in her. If Zaza could speak, I am sure she would have a lot of adventures to tell. As a young kitten, she did a "me Tarzan" stunt, flying off the top of the stairs straight down to land onto the dining hall floor. She was still in 1 piece when we picked her up, but the experience must have 'muted' her, coz she's never mewed since that day. Instead she tells us what she wants with her paws; she would tap insistently on her bowl at chow-time, or she would hop up to a chair and lay a paw on my arm at the dining-table. But the most amazing thing about Zaza was the time she wandered off, probably itching to see the big world outside, and didn't return. We prayed and prayed, but after some 2 months, gave her up for a goner. Till one fine day, long after we had stopped praying, she turned up at the doorstep, a stinky bundle of bones and dirt. There were wounds and scars on her, which meant she must have gotten into fights. Truly a wild prodigal come home, but she never ran away again; I think she must have learnt her lesson well - that it doesn't pay to stray.

A pity though, about those that did and never came back; such a waste of life. A lot like humans, I guess. No wonder Jesus told no less than 3 stories about the lost - a lost sheep, a lost coin and a lost son; all very precious to the respective shepherd, owner and father. Roll all these characters into 1 and we see the heart of God who loves us so so much....we are each so special to Him He would leave all the other 'sheep' to go after that 1 lost individual 1. And just as the owner swept her whole house looking for her coin, so too God leaves no stone unturned to find us, no matter how far we stray or hide.

I used to think all the stories were the same; until I studied deeper, and saw that whilst the shepherd and the owner both went out of their way to search for their lost possession, the father simply waited, and waited and waited. He didn't withold his inheritance even tho he knew giving it to the son would in effect mean losing the boy, yet he didn't compel him to stay, neither did he chase after the wayward kid. The son would never know how many days and nites his father spent sitting and staring off into the horizon, hoping everyday to catch a glimpse of him returning. The son never saw the tears the old man must have shed, praying for his very soul. Neither would he ever understand his father's anger and frustration at the silliness of his actions in desiring freedom away from the person who loved him so. The father knew the son would have to learn the hard way; like any wise parent would sigh, kids must be allowed to fall by themselves so as to get some sense knocked into their (thick) skulls. But the part I liked best about Jesus' story was the reaction of the father when finally he spotted the repentant son trudging home - he literally flew down the path to greet the boy, and not 1 word of recrimination, not so much a squeak of "See, I told you so" instead the best of everything in the house was bestowed upon him. Man, he even threw a party to celebrate the prodigal's home-coming. Me, I would have let the guy stew awhile first.

Ahhh, such is the grace of Love divine. 3 pictures of God's infinite patience with the sons and daughters of rebellious man, who are so prone to run away. He will not give up on us even tho we give up on Him. "If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot disown Himself"(2 Timothy 2:13)We will never know how much God grieves for us when we stray into death's clutches. What poignancy there is in the shortest verse found in the New Testament - "Jesus wept" when Lazarus died (John 11:25)

Our Zaza and Eli found their way back. Some of our lost pets however never made it back home, and unfortunately there's nothing we can do about it; they are truly lost forever. Thank God with humans, it needn't end like that. He made it so simple for us to return - He gave us Jesus. Unlike straying pets, we are never so lost that we cannot be found, it's only whether we want to take the hand of Jesus and follow Him home, where we belong.

"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost." Luke 19:10

Becoming Zero

We go to hell not because we don't believe Jesus Christ; we go to hell because of our sin. The pastor had put into very simple language something many people tend to miss. That's what I call straight talk, truth that shoots direct into the heart without any bother about politically correct niceties. Serving in the street mixing around with the 'riff-raff' of society tends to make one develop this kind of brutal frankness. When you face drug addicts, prostitutes, drunkards, gangsters, and yes, even the odd murderer or two, you don't beat around the bush, camouflaging words or putting on airs. They are as hard-hearted and as hard-headed as they come, even the old aunties and uncles who drop by. Some go to the extent of taking public buses just so they can hobble over to hang out at the street alley every Saturday. I am sure it's not the food that draws them. Maybe it's got something to do with the meaninglessness of life, of growing old, or feeling lonely or neglected by grown-up and couldnt-be-bothered children, maybe it's meeting up with the 'regulars', maybe it's a way to while away an hour or two. Whatever the reason, we get all kinds of people every Saturday.

But just in case anyone thinks its 'oh-so-exciting-n-glamorous' to be volunteering, being ever so charitable feeding the poor, homeless and marginalized of society, I am sorry to burst the 'feel good' bubble because that's a totally false notion. There isn't anything noble or particularly uplifting in seeing lives destroyed through wrong choices made, and worse, knowing the destruction is not just confined to an earthly time-line, but goes on for all eternity, if they don't turn around.

In fact it makes my heart ache every Saturday coming face to face with humanity gone haywire. It goes beyond pity, sympathy or empathy even; for how could I ever understand how it feels to be in their shoes since I have never experienced their life. Some days I get angry inside, because I know they could have a much better life; the abundant life that our Creator destined for every single human being. Some days I despair that they would ever respond to the message of hope that we bring to the streets; a hope not dependent on man or hand-outs, but a hope reaching out and grasping the hand of an Almighty God who came down to seek and save man. Most days I feel thoroughly helpless at doing anything except listen quietly to the sob-stories of their lives and pray over and for them. Many days I wonder, Lord, why am I here, really? I know it's not just about handing them a plate of chicken curry rice; I used to think it's about sharing with them the good news of the gospel that God so loved the world, He sent Jesus so that whomsoever believes shall never perish but have eternal life. But now I have come to realize that's only half the picture. The other half is about God growing me up....

And He sent me a most unruly, fierce-looking guy to teach me a lesson of the heart. The first time I saw the man, he came right up in front of me and spat onto the ground at my feet. Well, I should be thankful it wasn't into my face. So here he is, a dirty, smelly character, barefoot in tattered clothes; obviously an angry man. It wasn't the first time I have faced people who get angry with my message, though I don't understand why they should angry when I talk about a God who loves us so. Maybe it's the sin part they can't stomach; for I, too, don't mince my words. Nobody likes being confronted with the truth that we are all sinners in the eyes of a holy God. And of coz many people can't stomach Jesus Christ anyway. So yes, I have been told point-blank in my face to shut up. A guy once warned that if I weren't a woman, he would have punched me. (Thank God I am a woman!) But this was the first time someone literally went the 'extra mile' to walk up to where I stood, spit and shout obscenities at me in public - whilst I am right in the middle of sharing my message. Well, there's always a first time for everything, I guess.

But though i ignored him and carried on speaking, it shook me up inside, for the first time I saw and felt hate. I might have been able to take it easier if he was drunk, but nope, he was very sober and very deliberate in his insults. And he repeated his 'performance' over the next few Saturdays every time I took the mike. Of coz i prayed about how or if I should respond. And then the answer came - get him a cup of tea. Inside my head, I went 'Huh??' and the next thought was 'What if he throws the tea into my face? I am sure he is very liable to; he doesn't like me, You know'. Again the instruction came, get him a cup of tea. I chose to ignore the man for a couple of weeks; but I knew I had to do it some how, some day. So one fine Saturday, I went in early, saw him sitting by himself and decided it was now or never. I screwed up my courage, threw away all my pride, walked past him to the drinks stand, got a cup of tea and double-backed to hand it to him with both hands without a word. For a moment he stared at me, I half-expected cold tea flung in my face or at least a noisy rejection, more spit on the ground perhaps. But instead he took it and drank, also without a word.

As I walked away, I was rejoicing inside - the ice had been broken. Love had conquered hate. That's always been Jesus' way. When the whole world questioned, mocked and rejected Him (which is still the case today), He responded with love. When His own kind couldn't understand, even betrayed Him and had Him crucified, He still responded with love. I talk so much about a God who is love, yet I really can't live up to that kind of love; heck, I can't even give tea to a man who doesn't like me. I have since relived that first moment of change many times in my mind, and come to understand what God wants me to learn about real serving. That it's not about me doing good, or feeling good doing good. It's about what Apostle Paul counsels that as a believer and follower, I am to "have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to His own advantage; rather, He made Himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross!" (Philippians 2:5-8)

Put those words into pictures - it's like a King who comes down from his glorious throne to wash the dirty feet of his subjects...the Creator and Master of the universe descended from on high to cleanse the souls of dirty man. What kind of God puts Himself to such ignominy as to literally strip Himself of His Godhead to turn into a mere man, and not just any man, but the lowest of man - a servant (the word in context actually means slave) to serve His creation, to the extent of dying for them?? A God who made Himself nothing (literally zero), so that we can be everything He made us to be. That's how much He loves us. If Jesus can die on a cross for me when I was still a sinner, surely giving a cup of tea to someone who doesn't like me is but a very very small thing on my part; the only 'sacrifice' (it really doesn't deserve to be termed as such) involved was my pride. And I guess that's what God wanted to teach me really; to put to death all that makes me so puffed up about myself being so so 'good', to kill all that pride in me so that I can learn what it really means to love and serve - even an enemy. The world's way is to be no.1, God's way is to become zero first. It's about putting myself aside totally to let the goodness of God shine through me, so that people do not see Christine Lai anymore, but Jesus Christ thru my words, my actions and my life, such that they themselves will want to welcome, receive and experience this all empowering, overpowering super-duper love that knows no bounds. A love that promises forgiveness of all sin, perfect freedom and a chance to start over, to live a new life that's made right with man and with God.

Ever since that Saturday, I have made it a point to serve that man a cup of tea. I still haven't spoken a word to him personally , but I don't see any more hate in his eyes. Plus he's stopped the spitting and insults. One day he handed me a flyer in Chinese, which I couldn't understand ('banana' that I am) and he smiled. Which gives me hope that maybe one of these days, real soon, I can finally talk to him about Jesus, the God who commanded me to serve him tea.

"Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone... On the contrary: If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head....Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good" - Romans 12:17, 20-21

Of Near Misses and Perfect Timing

It was meant to be a family holiday. But the way things started with family minus 1 was hardly auspicious. As usual I had booked our annual vacation many moons ago (like almost a year in advance), being the 'kiam siap' mom that I am, to take advantage of Air Asia's sales. Booking this way had its risks - it was always a 'hit-n-run' kind of thing, because we never quite knew whether all of us would be free on the dates booked a year ahead. So far, we have been doing ok for the past years, but this time, we hit a major red-lite. We were booked for a 4 day trip to Krabi, Thailand, but it turned out the youngest boy, who had just entered uni this year, had a presentation test which he couldn't possibly miss on the scheduled day of departure. So I had to rebook him on an earlier flight, which meant he would miss the substantial holidaying time, not to mention additional expenses incurred for his changed flight. But I figured, half a holiday is better than none for him.
Things didn't improve when we flew into Krabi. Rain and wind greeted us for the better part of the first 1 1/2 days, not to mention we had arrived  over a 2 day public holiday in town, which meant many shops were closed. It was an ominous sign. Still the kids managed to do a little shopping and we did  find some pretty decent road-side food, before we headed off to Ao Nang, intending to catch the boat out to the island proper where we were to spend the rest of the holiday .

But the rain continued stalking us, despite my fervent SOS-es to heaven.  We had intended to ship out from Ao Nang  to Railay island by mid-afternoon. However the guys decided to delay it till late evening to enable my son to get a custom-made-to-order suit. That was when the near-misses started. Thinking that it was ok to delay the departure time, since we had bought boat tix, we merrily dumped our bags in the tix agent office and went off to do our own thingy. For me, that was a hair cut and color job, whilst the younger princess settled for a simple braiding and since she finished first, she nicely left for the island on her own. The other 2 kids treated themselves to a 2 hr massage. Waiting for the hair stylist to finish an earlier customer, it struck me the tix agent office could very well be closed by evening, so I double-backed and indeed it turned out they closed shop by 5 pm, so by hook or by crook we had better get our luggage out or else!! Thankfully my eldest and I were done just in the nick of time to be able to collect our stuff. But we hadn't bargained on having to walk a loooong way out on the sandy beach to catch the boat as it was (very) low tide. It would have been ok if it was just our own luggage, but we had to lug along the guys' stuff as they were still at the tailors. By the time we reached the island, the weather had turned really nasty with heavy rain and strong wind. Another long walk out from the boat struggling against waves and wind with slippers and 2 bags in hand each to get to the shore got us completely drenched. Someone commented sympathetically we had begun 'swimming' (in the rain). The guys arrived very much later, because they missed the last scheduled boat by 10 mins and so besides having to pay extra, had to wait an hour more!

My  heart was pleading with God...please, all I ask is 1 day of sunshine tomorrow, at least for the boy to enjoy himself a short while on the beach before his departure. So it was early the next morning the boy was up accompanied by his (sporting) sister to catch a cold dip in the sea. Then it started to rain again, so we sat thru a very long breakfast session waiting for the sky to ease up, which thankfully it did.The younger princess had signed up for a rock-climbing session, so I decided to accompany her to explore a bit of the island.  But as I was waiting for her to do her stunt, I remembered the boy's boarding pass was still in my hotel room - and he was leaving already. So it was a mad dash back to the hotel and amazingly I caught him just as he was walking out to catch the boat. Talk about perfect timing. So off he went ; at least he was happy that he had gotten his first suit very nicely done up, and his uncle plied him with a yummy lunch and special ice-cream before seeing him  into a private taxi to board the flight home all by himself.

Back on the island,  it was nail-biting time as we wanted to catch an afternoon trip out island-hopping, but wasn't sure if the uncle would make it back. As I was about to give up, there he came, hurrying up from the water's edge...just in time. That was when I knew despite all the near-misses and bad starts to this holiday, God's timing would be perfect somehow. And indeed it was - the weather did clear up beautifully, and we had a great day out in the sea, covering 4 islands and 3 snorkeling sessions, during one of which the sharp-tonged loud-mouthed entertaining tour-guide led us to "finding Nemo" in the ocean. The penultimate treat was a BBQ dinner watching the sun-set over the sea. The dinner was measly, but the sunset was magnificent. By the time we hit for home-shore, it was already dark and the stars were out in full force all over the sky above the shimmering sea waters.... awesome sight to behold.  But for me, the best part was actually the last bit, which lasted all of 5 mins. The boat stopped off some cave on the way back for night snorkeling, with a difference. No one except 3 of us and 1 foreigner (out of 44 on the boat) dared take to the dark waters. But once inside it was a marvelous sight to behold literally hundreds of plankton glowing underneath the sea, stirred up in a frenzy by our movements...dazzling silver streaks of moving light against the pitch-black waters. Man, it is indescribable. From the boat, apparently they could see our bodies  all lighted up  in outline by the phosphorecence.

And finally in God's timing, the sun came out strong the next morning. My no. 2 and I had decided to do some trekking to catch a panoramic view of the surroundings. She left earlier with a new fren she had made on the boat trip. I took my time, as the hotel guy told me it would take just about 10 mins using ropes to climb to the view point  and we still had a couple of hours to spare. I think his 10 mins applied more to an monkey than to an old 50+ aunty who had never rock-climbed in her entire life. It was much tougher than the rock-climb my girl had earlier completed. 10 mins of huffing, puffing and pulling myself up by half-worn out pieces of slippery mud-covered ropes along  very steep rocky crags had me sweating and wishing I had never started. I was only glad there was no one with me to see me  sliding and slithering up and down the rocks, although I did pass a family of monkeys sitting on some tree branches who, I swear were laughing out loud at me; at least that's how their chatter sounded like.

I lost my way twice, but managed to get back on the trail till I hit the final stretch, where the way ahead was an almost perpendicular rock surface which dropped straight down to the beach view point. Man, I was that close, so near yet so far, but I knew I had to turn back, for I was running short of time, and I couldn't have managed the descent and ascent again. I retraced the torturous climb back and finally made it to the hotel, all covered in mud. My no. 1 princess and the uncle were already packed and ready to leave. I knew my no. 2 would never make it back in time, as gung-ho that she is, she had gone further on an even tougher climb to another lagoon spot in the jungle. So the plan was for me to wait for her, and then meet up with the other 2 in Ao Nang.

Indeed she was very very late, off by an hour. By the time she came back, there was no boat out to Ao Nang. But there was 1 willing to take us to Krabi instead and from there arrange a taxi for us direct to the airport. So detour it was. The only problem was I couldn't contact the other 2 waiting for us in Ao Nang,  since both our phones had died-ed, 'drowned' by Krabi rain and sea water. It was only when we arrived at the airport that I managed to call them from a public phone, only to find they were still waiting there but were just about to give up and proceed to the airport without us. It was a very close call, but thanks be to God and a very fast driver, they made it to the check-in gate on the dot, just before it closed. Like I said.....perfect timing.

Surely this was the most 'fragmented' holiday ever. The son had to leave earlier,  the weather was unpredictable, at times we were all separated, doing our own tingy,  we had no contingency plans, 2 (so smart) phones and my camera went kaput; our luggage almost got locked up, we missed boats and almost missed schedules and flights.... still it could have been worse, I guess. God didn't grant my prayers for an idyllic holiday, but He did protect, deliver and gift us with one that I would describe as simply .... out of the ordinary.

"As for God, His way is perfect.....He shields all who take refuge in Him" - Psalm 18:30 

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