Climb MY Mountain

I am very blessed. Every year I get to use a Genting apartment absolutely free for as long as I want. I have never been able to afford and indeed can never afford any of those 'time-share' club/resort memberships. This comes courtesy of an old friend, ex-colleague and very very dear sister in Christ whose generosity allows me the luxury of a physical and spiritual retreat, far from the madding crowd at least once a year.

The apartment is one of those family-type suites, comes complete with cooking facilities as well as a private jacuzzi. Of course there's the mandatory heated pool, gym, spa, golf etc that's part of the whole resort package deal.  But apart from the first time, I have never used any of them since. Nor have I even bothered to go up all the way to the top of Genting. Though I normally book the place for about 4/5 days, I myself spend at the most 2 days cooped up in the apartment, all alone by a deliberate choice. The rest of the days I give away to bless others to use with the consent of my friend. 

Birds' eye view perched on top 

One little birdy

Two little birdies 

Now 5 little birdies

I actually like the solitude. It's very very quiet when there's no human soul with you. Not that there's no sound at all, but the "alone-ness" sharpens all the senses. The night before as it rained continuously,  I could hear the sound of water drops from the roof, making music on the hard tiles as a glistening pool formed on the patio. In the morning, the sound of the wind whistled through the air, as the cold cut into my bare feet.  As I sit out on the verandah in the early morning, I eye a cloud parade rolling past the curtain of the sky. I sat for a couple of hours just observing how the mist  shrouded the hills in a blanket of white, then got lifted up, allowing patches of blue heaven to break through, but only for a little while as it came down again to envelope everything from sight.  I watch as a pair of yellow birds chase-dance each other, zooming in and out of the trees. 2 little pigeons troop right up to the balcony to preen their feathers as they exchange soft coo's. Yesterday there was an eagle soaring high up in the sky. I wonder what goes on in birds' brains? Do they know where they are flying to? What do birds see, perched on trees, watching the world go by? And I am so thankful to remember if  the birds of the air do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet my heavenly Father feeds them, how much more valuable I am to Him. (Matthew 6:26)

I look forward to this time of 'winding down' by myself. Every year I make it a point to 'get lost' and go off somewhere. I need it to clear my system and get in touch with the most important thing  in my life - not me, not my children, not my job or ministry, not church or ambitious 5 year plans to improve my life, not how I am going to change the world into a better place, or even to pray the many concerns in my heart. 

I reserve this time of the year purely to seek one face, one heart - the Lover and Beloved of my soul, my good Shepherd, my Wise Counselor, my Comfort, my Lord, my God.  To do that I have to purposely and consciously put aside all other things and people in my life and make Him my focus. I call it falling in love all over again. I make the time for Him. Actually I should do it every day, but every day can be such a hassle just to get through sometimes there's just not enough time to do it as often as I should. Yet He's very patient with me, always.

So now it's my turn to be patient. Every year my 'special appointments' with God are different. Sometimes He's very quick to connect with me. And sometimes it may take awhile of waiting and waiting and waiting. Like this time, I even thought He wasn't going to say anything. He wasn't in the wind, or the birds or the rain. Then as I looked beyond at the mist-wreathed hills, exactly like prophet Elijah, I heard that still small voice in my heart. Climb My mountain. I answered off the tip of my tongue, But You know I don't fancy climbing mountains, Lord...sure I like the view and all from the top, but really it's tough going,  I get out of breath, my body hurts, it takes a long time, I don't know where I am going, I might get lost. Again it was repeated Climb My mountain.

I have climbed a physical mountain  before (here) and as I said, I don't like it. Heck, I don't even like climbing stairs for that matter. All that huffing and puffing is a lot of pain. I am about to argue with God again, when I was reminded about those great personalities who climbed mountains in the bible. Abraham, Moses, Elijah, Jesus Himself.  Unusual things happened on mountain tops. Not necessarily good things, as understood by man. Certainly things that shook up not just the climbers but affected their existing world. On top of a mountain, Abraham received the grand promise that God would bless him to be a blessing to the entire earth. Moses came down the mountain armed with the law of God. Elijah called down fire from heaven on the mountain top. And Jesus hung on a cross at Mt Calvary to open up a way for sinful man to be reconciled with a most holy God.

Climbing mountains meant serious business with God. And I wasn't at all sure I was ready, although I had routinely prayed to be taken higher, further, wider and deeper in my faith. That was routine, a 'spiritually-correct' prayer. Now He was actually answering it, I found myself "chicken-ing" out. How typical. It's very easy to pray all kinds of well-meaning prayers about being available for God, about wanting to serve Him, about offering Him our all... blah blah blah. I am ashamed to remember it was just 2 months back , I even declared out loud as I was standing in the Jordan River with the pastor who was going to dunk me as a gesture of re-dedication of my life.., "Lord, here I am, send me"... daring to repeat the words of the prophet Isaiah. Well, I meant it then, honest. And I still mean it, honest. Just that when push comes to shove, honestly, climbing mountains isn't exactly my forte. But a deal is a deal. I made a deal with God in the Jordan. And as much as He has always kept up His part of dealings with me, I guess I better do my part, if I know what's good for me.

So as I stared at the range of mountains right before my eyes, all hidden in the mists, I asked what I thought was a pretty smart question, "Which mountain? There are so many out there".  Again it was repeated for the third time, Climb My mountain. Now I heard what I had missed. I was to climb His mountain, not every mountain is meant to be climbed, at least not by me. So I ask another question, "How?" The answer came back very simply "Follow Me". Duh. How obvious.

Sometimes we humans make life so complicated . We insist that God shows up in front of our very eyes (preferably in a grand show of fire, thunder and lightning) before we will believe He is for real. Even harder is following which requires submission and surrender, things which are not popular at all given our human inclination for independence. We would rather believe in ourselves, in ideals like freedom, human rights, in worthy causes ranging from women to refugees. We would rather do good our style, our way. We may even get good results which leads us to think we are doing fine, without God. Nothing wrong with good intentions of course.  But if it's not His mountain climbed His way, really, it's no big deal. Anyone can do what anyone is capable of; don't need to believe in a/any God to live out a self-managed life that satisfies our own desires .  It's only when we let go our control mode and learn to listen to the heart-beat of the God who is Love that we get taken to a place way beyond our own personal best.

2 days after my retreat, I found myself having to choose if I should follow the heart-beat that was calling me to spend Christmas away from home, church and family. I really didn't want to, but I have learnt when God calls, and we disobey, (He calls, He never forces), because we don't want to give up our 'good things', we end up losing the better things that He has prepared for us. I don't ever want to miss out on that, so there I was on a last minute (very expensive) flight to Sabah together with 2 others who had responded to the same call. 4 days stuck in a remote prayer-house, located on (where else) a 'bukit.' What for? Mysterious are the ways of God; He puts a burden on our hearts, and then uses all sorts of things to tickle our minds... my bible, even life animals like baying dogs echoing our shofar sounds, a praying mantis sitting on a handphone, inanimate objects like numbers on a signboard, statues at a roundabout, excavators breaking up an abandoned building...like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle we need to figure out.

Not only praying, but worshipping mantis

He will only show us 1 step at a time but when finally it all comes together, we go "Aha, that's it." And then we see what a beautiful picture He had in mind all along...more fantastic than anything we can ever cook up ourselves.  That's the wonder of believing and following my God to climb His mountain.





"I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber"... Psalm 121:1-3

A Fit and Proper Person

My children made me cry. Again. Twice within a week, tears filled my eyes as I sat watching my two daughters from the sidelines as a spectator in the journey of their lives.... 

The one I least expected to follow in my footsteps my no 2 "sweetheart" Sha-Lyn looked so prim and proper in the mandatory black white ensemble required of a lawyer. She stood at the side of the court, holding her robes, as the mover of her call read her petition to be admitted as an Advocate and Solicitor of the High Court of Malaya. He had an excellent voice telling the story of her journey into law. But all I could think of was how my husband must be looking down from heaven, smiling and clapping his hands. That was when the tears came unbidden, they flowed even more as her mover read off the last line of her petition dedicating her call to her father. She and I were obviously on the same wave-length, though I didn't know the contents of the petition she had prepared.

Sitting in the public gallery brought back a flood of memories of my own call some 30 years ago,and the subsequent time spent in legal practice, moving in the hallowed halls of justice. At that time, the 'hallowed halls' of the Jalan Duta Courts were just a row of wooden buildings. I remember... how careful the ladies had to be in their high heels, climbing up planks which passed off as stairs... the Bar Room where I used to hang out to drink coffee with 'august members of the profession' after finishing off my cases for the day. My daughter's chamber Master laughed as I mentioned it, and told me those were the days because it's no longer the same now. Indeed the court complex is now so modern and huge; I got lost trying to find my way to the right court. When I asked a lawyer hurrying past me where it was, he said he didn't know either, and that he got lost all the time too.... I hope he was just joking; if I had a case, I wouldn't like my lawyer to get lost in court. 

There were 9 others getting called together with my daughter. At the end of the presentation of each petition, the judge would issue order in terms to the effect that So-and-So is deemed a fit and proper person to be admitted as an Advocate and Solicitor of the High Court of Malaya, after which the Master would robe his/her pupil. signifying the person as henceforth a 'professional' lawyer. Hearing the solemn pronouncement and watching the repeated robing, I found myself wondering what's really a 'fit and proper person'? Of course, as far as a call is concerned, it simply means one has fulfilled all the legal requirements for admission and there are no attendant objections from interested parties like the Bar Council or the AG's Chambers. So it's really quite an automatic thing. 

But what struck me was the presiding judge's exhortation after all were duly admitted. She addressed them pointedly that although they are duty-bound to advance client's interests, but as members of the legal profession, they are first and foremost officers of the court to stand for justice. With that she lifted what would have passed of as just another ritualistic proceeding into something more meaningful . Justice - that's inspiring. And sadly lacking in today's world. 

The thought was still with me when I witnessed my eldest princess Su-Lyn take her turn 

receiving the Suhakam award for human rights in the Media category. Her opinion pieces in the online news portal she is attached to has always been ... well, opinionated. And true to form, her acceptance speech contained no gracious thank-you's nor referenced the impact of any other human being in her life. Instead it was a lambasting of a government which she termed tyrannical insecure and suppressive of human rights. I can understand her anger, which surely is shared by many who also decry the state of affairs in our nation. That doesn't mean I agree with all her views or her methods. Certainly I salute her boldness in fighting for what she believes to be right. But as I watched her up on stage, I was actually thinking something quite irrelevant...I remembered how I had always wanted to be a journalist because I love to write. Indeed I had started out as one until 'forced' to quit at the insistence of my father when I got accepted into law school, which as it turned out wasn't a bad thing at all.

That was some 30 odd years ago. Now not 1, but both daughters are walking down the same paths that I took. I look at them, fully grown-up women, both positioned to make an impact in this world for their generation, to stand for justice, truth and righteousness. I should be rejoicing at their achievements, and I do. 

Still I wonder what makes up a 'fit and proper person'? Is it just someone who practices the rule of law or goes all out to fight for human rights? One daughter has qualified as a lawyer sworn to the cause of justice, another was voted as an upholder of human freedom. I guess that's a pretty good start to being 'fit and proper' persons of society. 

But deep inside, I'd rather my children be considered fit and proper persons in the eyes of God than be heaped with all the fancy awards and rewards of this world.  The mother in me cries, because the greatest thing in my children's lives shouldn't be about how many awards they get, how much money they earn, how clever they are, or even how much "good" they can do, giving back to society as 'fit and proper'. I applaud their achievements, but I would give up my own life in exchange for them to understand that being a fit and proper person begins with knowing their Creator who is the ultimate source of all justice, truth and righteousness, who put the desire for such ideals into  human hearts in the first place, and who has chosen and qualified them to bring to pass what has always been upon God's heart for humanity. If they catch this, they don't need any awards or rewards from man. They will still be fit and proper persons when the accolades fade away.

“Let not the wise boast of their wisdom or the strong boast of their strength or the rich boast of their riches, but let the one who boasts boast about this: that they have the understanding to know me, that I am the LORD, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight,” - Jeremiah 9:23-24

The Real Horror

I never thought I would ever like a horror movie. In fact I haven't seen one in umpteen years; the last time I remembered was peeping in between my fingers at Count Dracula aka Christopher Lee. Honestly I'd rather gawk at a super-hero hunk anytime. But my no.2 princess mentioned how good Train To Busan was... and that coming from another 'peep-er' like me aroused my curiosity. Besides all the reviews were good. And since I have never seen any of those highly -rated Korean dramas that apparently have got so many raving fans, I figured now was as good a time as any to get a little, albeit slightly different, taste of it at the cinema.

Actually I have to confess I still don't like horror movies, whether it's Count Dracula with his classic incisors, or the Chinese 'ever-green' white-sheeted ghost, or the typical Malay pontianak with long black hair from the days of P. Ramlee, or zombies lurching around with open bleeding mouths creating havoc on a train filled with hysterical passengers. So on that count, I really don't care for the zombie-infected army spilling all over the Train to Busan. I kept my focus concentrated on the sub-titles instead, and when the scenes got too gory or bloody, I simply shut my eyes, which was pretty much half the time.

Reviewers have drawn it variously as "an allegory of class rebellion and moral polarization", a "political commentary overtly referencing the country's response to the MIERS virus outbreak and class warfare". Indeed it may be all that. But for me, the movie works because the reactions of the different characters stuck on a train full of zombies out for blood are so reflective of the human race. It's not about Koreans, it's not even about zombies at all. The zombies are just there to expose the motives of man's hearts when confronted with situations that call for personal sacrifice. It's just fictitious zombies in the movie; but it could very well be something as real as running into a burning house to save 1 occupant, or taking the bullet in the line of battle to defend the country. To stretch it further, it could even be putting aside personal rights for the sake of others who are not of our same skin-color, whose views are different from ours, whom we may disagree with or even dislike. Would we lay down our lives so that others - no matter who - can live? Can we Malaysians, despite all our cultural, racial and political differences/prejudices (and let’s not deny we all have them), come to a point where we would choose to “ Love our enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you” (Matthew 5:44) Those, by the way, are the divine commandments of Jesus.

Kudos to the director's skill, positioning a child's innocence to bring out the innate selfishness of all mankind. The father typifies the 'too busy to care much' human being, so caught up in the dog-eat-dog world he thinks it's stupid to give up one's chair for an old lady, since his number one rule for survival is look out for yourself, not others. Taken to extreme by another character who incites others to refuse rescue of the little band of survivors who had managed to get to their compartment, it highlights self-preservation at its ugliest.

But the truth is that doesn't only happen in the movies; it really is human nature. The real horror in the show isn't the zombies, it's the humans. When push comes to shove, none of us are saints. We don't need a zombie attack for that self(ish) instinct to kick in... just watch drivers on the road or people rushing for freebies at any event. It's every man/woman for him/herself . Too bad about the disadvantaged, the weak, the minority or those who get in the way. I gotta take care of me, my and mine first, so it becomes acceptable, even logical to shut out or even kick out others to preserve ourselves. There are actually people so wrapped up in themselves they see nothing wrong with purposely putting another human being in mortal danger or manipulating frightened people into a mean nasty mob.

Perhaps it's a bit too 'pat' when such folks get their 'come-uppance', still like the saying goes, "what goes around comes around". Or as the bible puts it, we reap what we sow. I am sure many in the audience wanted to clap when the selfish gang got literally snapped up by zombies in the end. I am also sure everyone wanted the survivors to make it. But this wasn't a typical "and they lived happily ever after fairy-tale". Instead the movie used death to make the point that some things in life are actually worth dying for. Like love, and not just for our nearest and dearest, but for the ones we may not even like at all. As Jesus taught, If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that?... If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? (Matthew 5:46-47)

So we see how the 2 heroes who started out somewhat antagonistic end up working together to save the helpless in the group. We see that the dirty, down-n-out, despised and rejected homeless man can possess a much nobler spirit than the one dressed in a fancy business suit. We see the ardent passion of youths who would rather die together than be separated. And of course it tugs at our guts to see men giving up their own lives for the sake of a pregnant wife and a young kid.

But isn’t that supposed to be the way it should be? The only thing that can redeem mankind isn't to be found in a 'correct' political system, a 'fair/just' government, or an 'ideal' philosophy of life. It's not about charity or religion. All that is good and dandy, but the real heart of the matter starts very simply from the heart - why we do what we do. As Apostle Paul puts it, If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing. If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing. ( 1 Corinthians 13:1-3) In short, all the good that we do is good for nothing if it's not done out of love.

Like the hero whose final memory is of holding his new-born baby, when we breathe our last on earth , if we have love to hold and remember, we will count as worth it the inevitable pain, hurt and suffering that comes as a very real risk of loving and giving ourselves away. I like how the movie elevates the ordinary guy; anyone can be a super-hero in loving others. You don't need to be clever, rich, strong or handsome. You don’t need to come from a certain background, be of a certain race or hold a certain position…. You just need the right heart.

As if the long drawn-out battle with zombies isn't enough, the movie sets us up for yet another last battle for the survivors, this time with their own kind - humans. We expect zombies to kill humans, but for humans to kill humans? And to really sink in the horror of it all, the director uses just a disembodied voice over the walkie-talkie ordering a soldier on site to shoot 2 obviously helpless individuals - a pregnant female and a child. We are kept on edge as the gun is trained on the targets walking out of the dark tunnel into the light. Will he shoot? - What a waste if he shoots...

The finale was so fitting - a song from a broken heart saves the day. I didn't understand the words, but there was no need for translation... the tears spoke volumes about a love that sacrifices all. And that's what stuck with me as the lights came on in the cinema...that the worst horrors of humankind can be redeemed. The bible says it in 3 little words - Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13:8)


Published MMO 28/9/16

The Saddest Words...What could have been mine...if only...

There wasn't enough time. In the first place we didn't know the places were so far apart, or that it would take so long to travel from one point to another. On top of that several times we ended up staying longer than expected at some locations. Like our genial fast-talking Korean van driver/tourist guide put it colloquially , we take 'many many time'.  And of course we were just too lazy to wake up earlier. After all we were on vacation.

This was the longest holiday break we had ever had as a family... 6 1/2 days 5 nites spread out between Jeju and Seoul, with the former taking up close to 4 days. It was supposed to be rainy season, but I had been praying very hard that God would favor us with good weather, and thankfully He did just that.

 It was also the first time we tried out Airbnb accommodation overseas. Both places turned out very clean, comfy and decent. Seems Koreans are pretty hung-up about cleanliness; we even had to separate our own trash - it's an expected thing. Some of the apartment blocks have strategically placed big trash compactors for people to dump their separated rubbish. Public toilets are 1st class; the taps and toilet flush work, there is adequate toilet paper, no stuck bowls or stinking smells, plus there's piped-in-music to boot - even on a mountain top. And they are absolutely free.

Malaysia should learn from Korea. Even the iconic river that flows right through the heart of Seoul city is so clean you can see fishes swimming in the waters - literally a river of life.

The 2 princesses had done their home-work well, each taking the trouble to research and draw up a list of places to visit and things to do in both Seoul and Jeju. So it was a good balance between city and country. Seoul is... Seoul, with her high-rise towers, tons of shopping malls and ever efficient LRTs, with some 70 (or is it 90) lines criss-crossing all over the districts. A journey by LRT  from one airport to another can take close to 1 hour - a crucial fact which we overlooked and therefore almost missed our connecting flight to Jeju. Not that we could do much shopping, for things are so expensive. Even essentials like food. Still we had good meals, sourcing out the little eateries along the roads and open stalls right inside their giant market-centers. 

I was surprised by how big Jeju island is. Ignoramus as I am, I thought we could just hire a car and self-drive round the island. In my mind, it would be like Penang, So what if it's right-hand drive, no sweat, so I even paid for an international driving license before leaving Msia. As it turned out, we only managed to cover 1 itsy-bitsy-teenie-weenie bit of Jeju, and that also thanks to a God-sent Korean, out looking for some easy money at the airport. We had first rejected his offer to transport us to our Airbnb place, but we gave up after trying to catch the local bus. There wasn't anything wrong with the bus system, the problem was us; obviously we couldn't understand the language and we didn't know the roads.

So in the end, as the guy was still hanging around patiently, we decided might as well take up his offer. And what a blessing he was to us... because his vehicle was a luxury MPV, big, nice, and definitely very comfy plus the tour-hire price was most reasonable. This was a definite bonus because we had problems with some taxis who didn't want to risk overloading with all 5 of us. Mr Pak was such a funny character. He mistook us for Indonesians at first. His English was very limited, so he would chatter away in Korean. Sometimes he even talked to himself.

Obviously he found us amusing because he would point to my children, say something and then laugh heartily.  He even 'scolded' my son who was always sleeping at the back as he drove us around; but he gave the mum thumbs up because I was the only one  interested enough to look around all the time. When we mentioned we wanted cheap cheap Korean food, he took us to a local eatery, instead of the fancier restaurants. He didn't complain at how long we took or how slow we were. We had booked him to cover the whole of Jeju in 1 day; but by mid-day, he pointed at the map to show us where we were, shook his head and laughed. On the last day we were wondering how to get to the airport with all our luggage, but without us contacting him, he had already turned up early at the door to fetch us. That's service indeed. When I told him Jesus loves him, he didn't understand, so I pointed to the cross on my neck and said Halleluia - immediately he grinned and said "wife, halleluia, many many halleluia " So cute...

Jeju has lots to offer indeed. From volcanic caves with deep dark tunnels where it's so cold fingers grow numb to steep treks leading to cloud-covered mountain ranges, running so close to the edge I had butterflies in my stomach as I climbed, trying to keep as far away as possible from the ropes, down to the winds of Jeju which are so strong, especially up on the mountain they literally can blow you off your feet. Yes I enjoyed Jeju, but I had one regret - we could have made better use of the time. If we had dawdled less in the museum or the maze, if we had woken up earlier.... we could have done the waterfalls which were right at the other end of Jeju.  If we had not spent 5 hours climbing a mountain, we could have squeezed in a ferry trip to explore a light-house, something we have never done before. After all there are lots of mountains to climb back home in Malaysia, and as our dear guide put it succintly, "all same same". But I was taken up by the promotional blitz on the website - they claimed this was the most beautiful trail, as the whole mountain would be covered in blooming flowers. Well, they neglected to say when this would be. And of course, being taken in by the very pretty picture, I quite forgot flowers only bloom in ...spring. So nope, we didn't get to see the fantastic blooming mountain.  Ahh, for the  "what could have been mine....if only...."

Those must be the saddest words in human vocabulary. The chances we didn't take, the relationships we didn't have, the decisions we waited too long to make, the choices we didn't consider, the things we said or didn't say...  Missing out on some of Jeju's highlights is sad, but it's no big deal. I can always take another trip another time. But missing out on the best of what God has for each of our lives on earth and in the hereafter is a totally different thing. It's so easy to miss God.  After all the physical and logical world can appear so much more believable and reliable than an unseen God.

I was chatting with the ailing father of an old friend. He's hooked up on a machine that helps him breathe because he can no longer breathe on his own. He talked about how he has got nothing to live for in this world anymore, because his work is done, his children are all grown and doing well. He only wants to die, because he doesn't want to be a burden, even though he doesn't know and doesn't really care what happens after that. He's not sure this Jesus I talk about all the time is for real. He cannot grasp the love of an invisible Jesus who loves him so much as to have died for him, to save him from hell's fire. He wrinkles his brow when I speak of the joy of living that overcomes all suffering and the peace that surpasses all understanding.  He smiles when I talk about a place where there's no sickness, pain, tears or sorrow, where death is conquered,  time is eternal and life is forever.  When I ask him if he wants to go there, he shakes his head and mutters "I don't know".   I show him the packets of green tea I had brought for him, and I tell him he would never get to taste of it if he just left the tea bags lying unused. If he didn't choose to make the effort to take 1 tea bag, put it into a cup and pour hot water over it, he would truly never know.

2000 years ago, 2 common criminals hung on their cross beside Jesus Christ. One mocked Him. The other acknowledged his sin and simply asked Jesus to "remember me". And Jesus promised the latter, “Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:43) I wonder how the other criminal felt as he died without hope... remorse, anger, scorn, despair, hate..??

Life isn't about flowers or tea bags. It's dead (pun intended) serious. We only get 1 shot at it. No return trips. No second chances as we draw our last breath. It would be too late then to say ...what could have been mine.. if only....I had believed.

"For the sorrow that is according to the will of God produces a repentance without regret, leading to salvation, but the sorrow of the world produces death" ....  2 Corinthians 7:10

Fotos

Goodbye shouldn't be forever

My favourite cat was put down 2 days ago. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye or give her a last pat.  Uggy 'belongs' to my no. 2 princess; she had been sick for the past week, just lying around listlessly. It's quite unlike her, normally she would follow me downstairs to the kitchen first thing in the morning or sit by my feet at dinner time. Like the queen of the house she is, she mews her 'feed me' command on cue. She would look up with expectant eyes or even stretch to stand on her paws for tidbits from the table. But lately she wasn't eating/drinking, had lost a lot of weight, and had turned all born-thin and scraggly.

The vet's diagnosis was old age - she's 112  in human years - and kidney failure. Incurable. So my girl made the call there and then. All I got was a short watsapp message that she had buried Uggy in the back garden. Uggy was the gentlest of our 3 cats; ever ready and responsive to being petted. We never had any trouble with Uggy. Quite the opposite of the other 2 felines, Zaza and Maffin, who are prone to wandering off on their own jaunts outside, Uggy was always at home, snoozing in her fave spots in the laundry baskets, my rocking chair or our beds. She was the last of the litter that our first cat birthed more than 15 years ago, when my husband was still alive. I named her Uggy, a twist of 'ugly' because she really isn't a very pretty cat. But what she lacked in looks, she more than made up for in her sweet disposition.

Only pet-lovers will understand the feeling of losing a much-loved pet.  Our family has reared pets ever since I can remember. Our back-yard is a pet cemetery in itself. Underneath the green green grass of home lie the remains of several cats, birds and fishes. Excessively adventurous rabbits and tortoises have disappeared down our drains.

Uggy's passing wasn't really a surprise; she is after all very old. But I always thought Zaza would be the first to go. She's always been the 'wild' one in the family, not to mention the grouchiest; she even bites the hand that feeds her. At one time she was (mis) diagnosed with feline HIV, and we were expecting her to die. But Zaza's a fighter. For all her frequent bouts of sicknesses, even with having problems eating due to recurring gingivitis in her mouth, she is still very much alive. She must be the one with the proverbial 9 lives.


Well, Uggy has used up all hers. The finality of her death stares at me when I look out my kitchen window at the 2 pots placed over her grave. Just like 15 years ago, when I dropped the urn containing my husband's ashes into the sea off Penang beach, and every nite since then, the space beside me on the bed remains cold and empty - on earth, we are constantly reminded that death reigns over animals and humans. When it happens, we go through the 'necessary' process of grieving, closure, moving on, surviving. Some people shrug it off in bravado, as no 'big deal'. But death is a big deal. Whether we admit it or not, instinctively our hearts recoil at its repugnancy.

We do all we can to avoid dying. In fact, babies are born with closed fists, literally clutching at life.We eat wholesome food, swallow supplements, exercise diligently in efforts to stay healthy and live 'well'. We pay for our bodies to be poked and probed regularly so we can 'catch' (and hopefully cure) whatever disease that reduces our chances of living a 'good' long life.  We get worked up and anxious over anything that threatens our existence, like being possible targets of robbers, rapists, thieves and terrorists. As far as possible, we try to postpone that dreaded appointment with the Grim Reaper of our soul.

All the efforts underscore what the Bible states as a fact... God "has set eternity in the human heart" (Ecc 3:11); mankind was indeed created to live forever and not die. That's why we will always feel the loss of a loved one. The goodbye of death is a parting that should never have been because it was never in God's beautiful plan for mankind's destiny. Even in death on top of condolences we add the RIP postscript, which obviously postulates the deceased has gone 'somewhere' where the living cannot go.

And that's why the Christian faith can be such a comfort. There can be no greater security in facing death  than being able to rest on the promise of Jesus Himself, that "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). The God I choose to believe in doesn't keep me guessing where I go the second I breathe my last on earth. I will not be in a vague heaven "somewhere over the rainbow" floating in outer-space or worse in that furnace called hell where ‘the worms that eat them do not die, and the fire is not quenched" (Mark 9:48) .  I will simply be where I have always been meant to be - living forevermore in the presence of my Maker, who loves me. And what's more, I get to say hello again to those beloved believers who have gone ahead before me; my husband, father, brother-in-law, that drug-addict, the prostitute I used to meet at every Saturday street-feeding, friends from long ago..... oh, comfort of all comforts, I am more than happy to die, when my time on earth is up, having this blessed hope of a grand reunion to look forward to, knowing death can't hold me down. Knowing it's not dependent on how good  I am or what I can do on earth,  but how good my Jesus is, in having done all that is needed - dying for me, so that I am free to live an abundant life physically, emotionally and spiritually, now and forever, by and in the power of His resurrection.

But the atheists and sceptics mock...what if all that hype is nothing but a fanciful tale, a false ideal cooked up by 'religionists' ? What if it turns out my faith is but a blind leap in the dark, and there is no God to catch me when I die, after all I have believed? Well, nothing venture nothing gain.  I'd rather take the risk to leap into the greatest adventure of all time, putting my confidence in the promises of a God who has proved Himself ever faithful through every season of my life on earth so far. It's way better than staying stuck on the ledge of a life with nothing to look forward to except a death that ends everything in goodbye.

"My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am." -  John 14:2-3

The Safest Place to Hide

It's annoying.. I purchase a power-bank online and all of a sudden the top advertisements on my Internet news page features ...guess what... yep, power-banks along with a host of other 'irresistable' discounted electrical gadgets on sale.  In fact I don't even have to make a purchase. The other time out of boredom and curiosity I clicked onto an advert featuring dresses  on Facebook and almost immediately, I kept getting feeds on dresses and 'girly' stuff. Needless to say, every time I check out a town, a state or a country, I get an eyeful of places which promise me vacations to die for, complete with the never-ceasing  so-called cheap tickets on sale from a certain air-line. I am sure also I am not the only one who gets unsolicited email or SMS offers for loans and properties.

I know, I know, 'they' collect my data, and some smart computer somewhere analyses all the links I click online, and come up with my whole life's profile. That, without me even having to disclose any details apart from my name, sex and birthday, which incidentally is all I choose to disclose to the world anyway. Call me paranoid, but I don't really fancy every Tom, Dick and Harry knowing all the personal details of where I work, what movies I like, where is my current location, etc etc. It's none of anyone's business really.  Neither am I interested in chatting up with whoever is within 5 km of my vicinity. I deliberately hide posts when I get tired of seeing too many cute babies, food or holiday fotos. I purposely don't want to add even people I know as friends, much less friends of friends of friends. No apologies that I am not exactly socially-inclined.

And yet despite all my attempts to remain anonymous, it's amazing how accurate I am being 'read' by some super-smart data collector somewhere in the world. Apparently there are satellites which can zoom in on you, even whilst you are doing your business on the toilet-seat in your house (or anywhere else for that matter). Honestly I find that creepy, even though I know that's how man's future is being defined to a "T" by IT,  or whatever T-echnology that smart humans think up.

End of the day, we will end up with nowhere to hide ourselves, for nowhere will be 'safe' anymore, whether it's from prying electronic eyes up in the sky which aims to seduce us to spend our money or terrorists with intention to kill. Of course I received that infamous list of places to avoid in KL, purportedly to be their next 'hit'. So am I supposed to give up driving every time some evil fellas shoot people in broad daylight when they are getting into their cars or stopped at traffic lights? I wonder does it really make any difference if I shop for groceries in my (less public) local neighborhood store, when that innocent looking guy who just walked in could very well be hiding a gun under his jacket?

Honestly why should people be surprised that seemingly perfectly 'normal', even 'good' men can turn out to be paedophiles, or throw bombs everywhere, or smile for the camera when chopping off people's heads? After all, the Bible already pronounces and indicts the  human "heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9) God isn't surprised at man's wickedness, no matter how nice, good or (even) religious people appear to be.

So now with all the fear-mongering multiplied many times over by the efficiency of the world wide web, where can we run to, what can we do, besides (uselessly) passing around dubious lists of places to avoid? We talk a lot about moderation, discussion, engagement, and (the latest buzz-word) de-radicalisation. All of which is fine, good and to be encouraged, assuming you can get people to listen and be rational in the first place. If only life can be reduced to such simplistics, we wouldn't have wars, injustice, discrimination, persecution, or crime to tackle. Certainly in the physical world, we do all we can to be alert, to cooperate with authorities and security forces. But realistically speaking, there's absolutely nothing that can guarantee that I don't end up being the next fatality in the national death statistics tomorrow, whether it's at the hands of a brutal terrorist, or due to a random accident, sudden heart attack or long-drawn disease. That's not exactly reassuring, but as they say, that's the way the cookie rumbles.

When I commented that we really shouldn't be rumor-mongers creating panic by passing around lists of places to avoid, one retort was it's done with 'good intention just in case'..... I don't doubt the good intention but I wanted to ask, just in case what? How can a list 'save' us when obviously death doesn't strike according to prescribed predictions of where, when or how? The fact is we just never know.

I do know one thing though - my life is held in God's good hands, the years I have on this earth is determined by Him, not by any other. The safest place I can be is to be found in Him. Like King David who knew his God, I can say, "Because You are my help, I sing in the shadow of Your wings " (Psalm 63:7)  Besides, why should I fear death, when my Bible assures me by God's grace, the moment I called on the name of Jesus, I have already been saved into eternal life. So I don't need to stop and wonder, "Should I go to the mall today?" Or get all up-tight about terrorists, snatch-thieves, robbers, kidnappers or angry drivers on the road.

I can live a life free from any and all fear in the face of horribly fearful circumstances, because I choose to trust that my God is still in charge of the universe He created, no matter that the world appears to be spinning out of control at the hands of mankind gone raving mad. After all if I do not trust in Some One more powerful than me, bigger than the monsters of fear, I would be scaring myself silly every time I get yet another list of places to avoid, wasting my life away, forever searching (in vain) for places to hide from death.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.... "   Psalm 23:4-5

Double Portion

It was a long time coming, this missions trip to Sarawak. After all the years praying for the state, finally I step foot on the land itself. It's like a home-coming of sorts. Indeed Kuching itself is so modern, it's a mini PJ; complete with traffic jams at certain hours in certain locations. Outside the city, the villages retain their old world charm of open air markets and small shophouses kedai runchit style. I find the ambience, the laid-back pace way more attractive than the rat race in Semenanjung's  concrete jungle. We get to savor home-grown brown rice and freshly-plucked vegetables. And nothing beats the communal living of the long house, which was totally beyond what I had expected.                                                                                                                  
 Even though it was a long 4 hour drive and not exactly a comfortable journey over bumpy roads , thankfully the local church van we got to use was a fairly new one and in good condition. The next stage of the journey - 1 hour by boat - was hard on the back, especially for old aunties and uncles who had difficulty positioning our bodies to fit into the very narrow and small space on the boat bottom.

Contrary to what is often portrayed as run-down dilapidated wooden structures, the long house we visited was a most modern structure, having been renovated with timber money apparently. The entire interior, both the common hall-way and the individual units, called 'pintu's' (each pintu housing 1 family) were all tiled. Each is like a double-storey house inside, complete with kitchen, living and dining rooms, and decent baths and toilets with running water - direct from the river. There were flat-screen TVs, K-ok sets and yes, fans and lights, even though electricity was 'rationed' during certain hours of the day/nite, as power came alternately from individual generators running on petrol or the mini-hydro pump installed with church assistance.  I venture to guess though there still exists the typical original wooden long houses deep in the interior; those yet unreached areas which still lag behind in terms of modern facilities.

What touched me most was  the way the Orang Asals would be the first to walk up to us to shake hands, strangers that we are in their midst, and how hospitable and generous they are to guests. From cooking meals right down to lending sarongs to us ladies game enough to swim in the river. Incidentally walking around in sarongs is the norm for ladies in the long house. So is 'menganyam' - they spend the hot afternoons sitting outside their pintu, weaving colorful bags, well-known as a traditional handicraft of Sarawak. They start by threading together individual lengths of rattan/bamboo, intermixing them into colored patterns. The end result after hours of labor is a very pretty and functional bag. 2 of our ladies bought them. I myself wanted to get one too, but I was too late; as there were no more of the color I liked....

A fact which turned out as inspiration for the message I was scheduled to deliver at the local church back in Kuching. It was so on point; just as the weaver had to take time and care to string together single strands of raw materials, likewise God is the Master Artist, who pieces together all the seeemingly random threads of our lives to create a tapestry that's absolutely beautiful and functions according to how it's supposed to function. If we submit to His hand, we get to live out the destiny we are each uniquely designed for. If we don't, we forfeit the 'what could have been perfect' in our life. And sad to say, many of us don't even realize our loss. Just like I missed out on getting the particular bag because I was late (I was dawdling in the kitchen whilst the other ladies ventured out to explore) , we can all too easily miss out on our destiny in life, when we get careless with or couldn't care less about God.

I was speaking in Malay, but when it got to "destiny", I didn't like to use the dictionary term 'takdir' or fate, for fate implies every individual life is enslaved in unbreakable chains predetermined by some nebulous force. Whereas God  gives us a choice to accept or reject the destiny He has worked out for us. That's the highest most precious freedom of all, when we willingly choose to submit to His plans for our lives. The Orang Asal sister with us hit the jackpot when she translated destiny as 'hala tujuan'. There is a  direction (hala) and a purpose (tujuan) to that direction which is not rooted within man's pitiful limitations of selfish desires but having its inception in the very heart of a loving God who wills the best for all His creation.

Actually, compared to other missions trips,  this one turned out to be a holiday for me. My job was to deliver just 3 messages to the Orang Asal gatherings in the various places we visited.  I went with prepared messages in my head but it was God who put life and heart into them, calling forth illustrations from their daily environment, relevant things they could relate to ...like bags that are created from scratch, fans that are powered by invisible current, gloves that need to be filled with a living hand to work well, down to getting drunk with tuak. Indeed it's not by my own might, or my own power, but by His spirit that His word goes forth to stir up people to see the reality of God.

Again and again, He proves Himself great - I went, intending to bless, but I am the one who is much blessed...after my message about the bag, my team member gave me hers - the very one I liked but didn't get to buy. But that wasn't the end of it - the next morning in church I got another bag, an even bigger one, from someone who chose to remain anonymous. Talk about a double portion of blessings...

I know this won't be my last trip to Sarawak. Throughout the 5 days our team was there, moving out from the city into the country-side right into the long house, my heart has been stirred with the thought that I could so easily make this my home. It's not a very comfortable thought, considering the inevitable sacrifices that would involve. Still wherever God is calling me to in the next season of my life, whatever the price that needs to be paid,  I don't want to miss out on my destiny in Him, for I know it will be well worth it. After all, He's already given me an abundant double portion, even on this trip.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" - Jeremiah 29:11

More photos  here

The Ultimate Choice

So, Mother's Day and Father's Day has come and gone. I can never quite understand why it's only on these days that all the mushy lovey-dovey messages are posted everywhere in adverts, malls, and of course on social media. And everyone gets into a frenzy over buying presents and crowding restaurants to treat the 'stars' of the day. I thought we are supposed to love our moms and dads every day, and to let them know it whilst they are still alive on this earth? In fact, why are we confining our gestures of love to moms and dads?? If we really wanted to do something special for our loved ones,  to appreciate them - as we should - why wait around for the second Sunday of May or the 3rd weekend of June? Why not just do it, today, tomorrow, or whenever according to our heart, not a calendar? Ok, ok maybe I am just an old grouch....

Anyway, I crammed in 2 super-hero movies in between those 2 occasions. Both depressed me somewhat, although as far as movies go, "Captain America: Civil War" and "X Men : Apocalypse" are well-worth the ticket cost in terms of action and drama. But considered in a deeper vein, both movies actually pose some very real dilemmas of life choices. Like who decides what's right and what's wrong in every circumstance? Is it right just because it 'seems' good? Is war justified when innocents are killed in the cross-fire? Should absolute power and freedom be given to those who purport to exercise them for the greater good? What's the price to be paid for pursuit of the so-called 'common good'? Does/should freedom have any limits; if yes, where do we draw the line?

I liked what Capt A said, "We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody." That's so like salvation, and quite the perfect answer to every skeptic who asks, "If your God is so powerful or so good, why doesn't He save everyone?" It's not that God cannot save everyone, but rather that not everyone wants to be saved. Some are not bothered about heaven, hell or God. Some want it done their own way. We prefer to put self above God. Like someone said, we are our own god, because we don't want to answer to anybody else. We value our independence above all, even if that very independence causes our own downfall ultimately.

This quest for independence is nothing new. Adam and Eve exhibited it when they preferred to listen to the devil instead of God, since the former's version of truth was more palatable and preferable. After all, who doesn't want to be 'like God'? It's intoxicating to be offered a shot at being the most powerful person in the universe, without any elections to bother about, rather than being constrained by rules, (arbitrarily) made by some Being called God, who cannot be seen or proven. It's a no-brainer which one our naturally selfish self would choose to believe is right. The tragedy is our "rights" can be so "wrong".

I am sure God could have stretched out His mighty hand to stop Adam/Eve/us from sinning; for that matter He can easily stop all the very real evil and suffering in the world,  but that would have involved Him taking charge of everything and everybody, which would have made nonsense of His claim to love us. For the proof of love is giving the beloved the  freedom to choose to follow and obey or to walk away. Which is why God stood back and allowed His creation to go ahead and make a mess of our lives, other people's lives and of the earth we live in. It's not that we weren't warned. Apostle Paul confronts us that , "Furthermore, just as they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, so God gave them over to a depraved mind, so that they do what ought not to be done." (Romans 1:28)  In short, God said go ahead, do what you want, how you want, when you want.

God isn't at all like Apocalypse in X-Men who pouts and rants because no one wants to worship him anymore. Much less is He bent on destroying a world running after idols of their own making. Instead He holds the door open for every prodigal to return. One of the most quoted verses of the Bible is that " God so loved the world that He sent...Jesus not to "condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved" (John 3;16-17) The problem as always isn't with God, but with man.  God could behave like Apocalypse certainly; in fact He could very easily destroy a rebellious sinful world, which after all He is entitled to, as Creator of the universe. And quite unlike Apocalypse, He doesn't need to gather power from a bunch of mutants. In fact, no army of super-heroes would be able to stop Him, if He so much as lifted a finger to touch earth. Actually I can't help thinking perhaps if God did that, it might just jolt mankind into fear and repentance.  Maybe if God got angry a bit more like Apocalypse, we would 'get it'. But nah, that's not His way.

When 2 angry disciples wanted to call down fire from heaven to consume a village who rejected Jesus, He rebuked them and said He had not come to destroy man's lives but to save them (Luke 9:56). That's the God of compassion, grace and mercy that I know, who gave up His all so that we could have it all, leaving us to make that ultimate choice at our own peril - to love or to leave Him.

“For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it" - Matthew 16:25 

Another Day, Another Year

I have turned 56. I don't make a big deal about birthdays or even special occasions like Mother's Day. Of course I appreciate the 'treats' - birthday wishes, prayers, flowers, makan, who wouldn't? It's nice to know you are loved and appreciated by many who care. Still the practical me says we don't need special days to tell someone we love them. In fact we shouldn't just tell, but show it everyday, whilst the person is still alive on earth. And I don't mean show as in buy this, that or the other present. I mean show as in honor, respect, be responsible to, and do what is right by that person you say you love. That means much more to me than all the presents in the world which can be bought by money.

Anyway the children  got me flowers and a card. I think they have given up asking me what I want anymore, since they already know my heartfelt desire every birthday is simply for them to love God as they love their mom. The flowers I will soon have to throw away when they wilt. The card I keep together with some old cards they have given me for my past birthdays. Re-reading them made me pensive. I find myself wondering where have all the years flown. Wasn't it just yesterday when I was sitting on the grass with my husband in the evening, watching them on the swings?  I still remember that morning when I had to break the news of their father's passing and I can still hear the shrill "What?" exclamation of shock from my (then) eldest teenager.

And now she's already very much her own woman. Years ago at age 21, she wrote that she needed God to learn how to be an adult, and that my most precious gift to her was the bible study sessions I used to hold with them all after dinner, as it was then she felt most close to God and to me. In another card she said I inspired her spiritually. Barely 10 years down the line, I wonder what happened to the innocence of youth, for since then, she has swung right to the other end of the pendulum, proudly proclaiming to the world she is now a very happy atheist. Likewise her other 2 siblings have literally grown out of church and all that "God" stuff, preferring to be non-committal in matters of personal faith. As I said before , children will keep breaking parents' hearts many times over, not just over spiritual issues but over all sorts of life-decisions they choose to make.  And we will of course continue to love them, as they undoubtedly love us too.

Comes a time when every parent, especially moms, know there ain't a thing that can be done anymore to make her (so grown-up) children understand there are some roads they should never wander onto, for their own sakes. As the Chinese saying goes, if they are not allowed to bang their heads on the wall, they will never know it hurts them. So mothers grit their teeth, and let them go ahead confident in their own independent ways, to bang their heads on the walls they never see coming their way. In Christian terms, I believe it's called letting go, and letting God handle it, or rather them.  Of course it's easier said than done. Which mother, or father for that matter, knowing as only parents know that their very own precious flesh-n-blood  are going to get hurt, won't do all within their power to prevent it from happening. Unfortunately humans are really not powerful at all; they can't work miracles, they can't change the seasons, they can't control their own off-spring. So all Christian moms like me can do is cry, pray and trust that Abba Father God is still faithful, even when His (my) children are faithless.

I get even more pensive with the news that on my birthday, amidst all the election hullabaloo in Sarawak, 6 lives were lost in a tragic helicopter crash in the state.  Which only reminds me how fleeting life really is. One minute we are here on earth, and the next we are not. Yes I know, I shouldn't be morbid, especially on my birthday. But surely it's not morbid to face the truth. Because that's what it really is like, exactly how the bible puts it in James 4:13-14... "Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money. Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. So aptly and bluntly put. The bible never pulls any punches or rather wool over our eyes.

Every morning I wake up still breathing means God has granted me grace to live another day. Every year I celebrate a birthday is an extension of His grace. My life could have been, may still be cut short at any moment. But today I get to see another sun rise, another sun set. Truly I stand only by God's grace, acutely aware that I could so easily be here today and gone tomorrow in the blink of an eye. But it's not with gloom, rather with thanksgiving unto my Maker that I chalk up 56 years of living. For tears may dim the eye, still I choose to believe God's hand is ever working out good in the worst of circumstances, for those who love Him, according to His purposes. Not because I am a die-hard optimist, a positive thinker or just a plain wishy-washy old dreamer, but because I know my God is good. Even when all looks bad. That's the unshakeable truth of who Jesus is; after all if He can step out alive from the tomb of death, what can He not do, for those who dare to choose to believe?

So here's to another day, another year of faith to carry on believing.

"Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him." Psalm 34:8

With My Own Eyes

"Abba Father, I am hungry, thirsty to see You move in our midst. We have been faithful all these years to plough, to sow, to preach, to pray . Won't You please bring in the harvest of souls from this field? Didn't You say You came to seek and save the lost? See, these are the lost whom only You can love, and only You can save. Let Your Word go forth in power every Saturday, with signs, wonders and miracles accompanying so they will see the God we preach about is the real, true and living God."
I have prayed this prayer every day for years. Many times I have gotten weary of repeating it. Many times over many Saturdays, I look over the motley crowd of people we serve at the street alley and I wonder.... when, Lord, when will You answer? Many just walk out the minute they swallow the last mouthful of rice. Some are so smart they only come in just before the food is distributed, so they don't have to listen to  (boring) Jesus songs and (another boring) 'lecture' about how good Jesus is. Of course there are many who sit through the 1/2 hour pre-feeding programme but only God knows what's going in their minds actually; whether they are hearing/understanding the message or just plain in a world of their own, waiting for us to finish fast so the food can be served. Many times, I wonder.....

I have served enough Saturdays on the streets to know many just don't/can't believe there really is a God who loves and cares enough to die for mankind, sinners that we all are. To them  I am just a nice old aunty, who talk to them, pray over them, cry with them, and tell them fantastic tales about a God who can do miracles and take them to heaven when they die.

It's one thing to talk or hear about or even to see miracles at a huge rally, where some preacher calls up the sick and suddenly the lame walk, the blind regain sight, the deaf hear and all sorts of healing takes place. I have witnessed all that from afar. But when out of the blue, God decides to answer my own prayers. when I get to see with my own eyes miracles happening to people I have come to know personally - people in truly obviously desperate conditions - I can only say I am totally humbled and awed. And not just 1, but 5 miracles in a day is what I call a super-duper bonus. I guess God knows how tired I am of praying already; He knows how much I can take, and as always just at the right time, He gives me a 'booster' shot of His faithfulness, showing me He can touch anyone, everyone like...

.... the obese uncle who has been a fixture at the alley, ever since I can remember. He's heard about Jesus countless times, eaten countless plates of chicken curry rice. He always holds out his hand to me and asks for money, when I stop to say hello, He knows full well my standard reply, "Silver, gold or money I do not have. All I have is Jesus, and freely He is yours for the taking." But he's never taken, even though he agrees with everything we tell him about Jesus. Until this Saturday, as I sit with him and ask him if he would like to pray, he quietly says yes. His eyes tell me a miracle has happened in his heart as finally he lays hold of the gift of God.

.....the Christian brother, whose clothes cover a bag with tubes poking into his insides to hold the discharge from a body ridden with cancer, who has to lean hunching over a walker to move, who tries to hide the obvious pain he's feeling, and keeps telling me he's ready to go home to the Lord. How many times I have prayed over and with him, for God to release him from the suffering anyhow somehow . Yet this Saturday, I  see him smiling from ear to ear, walking well and  straight without that metal thing. pain-free ....that's a miracle to shout about. And no, it wasn't I. It was some other preacher who had simply declared over him, "Brother, you are healed, rise up and walk in Jesus' name." Almost the exact same words the apostle Peter used on a man lame from birth 2000 years ago. No, my brother didn't have a medical report to show his cancer is gone. But he did have 1 very obvious thing to show - the vitality of life written all over his face instead of the depressing shadow of death.

....the non-Christian, whom doctors had written off as a 'gone' case, with the cancer already spread into his bones, affecting nerves and tissues, put on morphine to dull the constant pain, hanging onto a crutch, unwilling to go home because he didn't want his family to suffer with him. He tells me how his heart was stirred the first time when he was in such pain, he had dragged  himself to hospital to get medication, and as he was desperately trying to stay steady on his feet, a nurse appears seemingly out of nowhere to help him.... and he sees the cross around her neck. What's even more amazing when he recently collapsed near a church, the pastor along with some others carried him into the sanctuary, prayed  over him, and immediately he felt one of his legs 'gone different'. He pulled up his trousers and showed me the obvious difference; it was soft and normal to touch, unlike the other leg which was hard and lumpy. He recounted softly, "That's when I knew this God that you always talk about is real." He doesn't need his crutch anymore but he continued, "Now I have a bigger problem. They checked my blood and found I have HIV on top of the cancer. But I am not afraid. I choose to believe." The miracle isn't about believing he will get healed from the diseases plaguing him. It's about him experiencing the peace of God that surpasses all human understanding, which is what Jesus promised to those who would come to Him, all weary and laden.

....the prostitute who brought along 7 other down-n-out characters to come and eat a decent meal. 2 years ago, I had connected with her (here ) Since then, she has been more absent than present at the alley, but every time I see her, she would smile her sad smile and assure me she's ok because she now has Jesus. She's still painfully frail and thin, but in spite of her own struggles with alcoholism, drugs, gastric and diabetes, she can declare confidently  "I only depend on Jesus, I know He will take care of me, so I can take care of others." The others for this Saturday include a fellow prostitute who was just released from prison for being 'in possession'  of drugs which were thrown at her feet during a raid. I see a miracle unfolding in her spirit as tears roll down her face and she grips my hands tight when I tell her over and over again just 3 words  that God prompts me to say to her  - Jesus loves you. I guess no one has ever told her they love her.

.... me, whose heart is so prone to wander/wonder. He sends an old uncle to draw a caricature of me and a brother who serves alongside regularly. I never knew he had this talent, I only knew him as somewhat grouchy and sometimes drunk. Yet here he is, friendly and sober, pulling out crayons and pad and telling me that I have a beautiful smile and beautiful eyes, so he is coloring them blue. Honestly  I have seen better drawings but it's the caption he scribbles over me that captures my heart and causes a lump in my throat - Christine Lai, the Queen of Ptg Street! That's my miracle - for all the years I have put in, the blood, sweat and tears poured into these people, when I am apt to think I cannot ever reach them, here is God telling me, I am accepted as one of them, I am counted as their friend. I don't bother to pay uncle, though I am sure he can use the money. But money would only demean his labor of love for me.

There are miracles, and there are miracles. Obvious earth-shattering ones and not so obvious quiet ones that stir the heart to just  know there is a God, no matter how much human minds may deny, reject or disbelieve Him. With my own eyes, I have seen what the God of miracles can do, even in the midst of a rebellious, sinful, unbelieving generation. He goes beyond my (little) faith to prove Himself true, as Lord of the harvest, He is bringing them all in...

"But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness" - Psalm 86:15