The Ultimate Reunion

 It was a short trip, as my no. 2 couldn't get leave, since she had just started work, but it had to be undertaken. Because this was to be a really grand reunion of all 8 of us siblings together with our extended families, totaling 41 heads, counting all generations, with various parties returning to Alor Star from Singapore, KL, and Kelantan. Thankfully, it was a smooth and pretty fast journey as we hit the road on Sunday afternoon, the very eve of CNY 2016. Most people would have left earlier in view of the long weekend. I guess it's one of those unique M'sian quirks  - come a major festival, everybody, not just the ones celebrating it, will 'balik kampung' to family, leaving KL city in a frenzied mass exodus of cars piling up bumper-to-bumper on the highways.

I never used to go back to my birth-place up north until I was 40 years old. I never saw the need to reconnect with my brothers and sisters back then, for the simple reason I never grew up with them. Having been adopted as the youngest baby in a family of 6 and taken away by my uncle and aunt to be raised as their own child, I simply wasn't part of their world, and they weren't part of mine. My mother died after she gave birth to me. My father naturally couldn't cope with 5 very young children already on his hands. Giving me away was the obvious solution; after all, it wasn't to any stranger, but to close relatives who had no children of their own. My aunt apparently was the only one who could soothe my crying; heaven itself must be approving. So just like that, it was a done deal.

When I was first shown my adoption certificate and told I had another family somewhere else, my 8 year old mind shrugged it off as 'so what'. I grew up without any 'adopted child' syndrome of rejection for I understood the necessity of what the father I never knew had to do. I basked in the love of an ordinary couple who cared for me the best they knew how. Looking back I can only say God works all things out for good.  My adopted parents were not perfect, but which parent, for that matter which child, is? They weren't rich, but I made it through university on a foundation loan. If I had not been adopted, I would not have had a tertiary education. If I had not gone to university, I would never have been a lawyer, never met the man who ended up as my husband, raised a family or be what I am today. So what need do I have to go back to folks who are so far removed from my circle of life? None whatsoever. And that was why up to age 40, I never bothered to make that annual trip back to Alor Star for the traditional CNY family reunion dinner...

Until the year my husband passed on. It was during that crisis that God in His grace and mercy caught me and turned me around to face Him, for which I remain forever grateful. Call it guilt, awakening, whatever, but I just knew I had to go back, not so much for the celebration, but to do the right thing. Only when I mustered up the courage to say sorry to my sisters for all those years I had stayed away, and saw the look on their faces, did I truly understand the meaning of reconciliation. Only then did I appreciate why repentance and forgiveness is such a big deal to God.

Ever since then, for the past 15 years, I make it a point to go back as far as possible every year, despite the traffic jam and the inconveniences of putting up in people's houses. I drag my children back, even when they moan and groan about the 'boring-ness' of visiting relatives they don't know and can't even address properly, with whom they can't communicate because they don't speak the lingo, being the 'white bananas' that they are. I go back because I know there's so much more reconciliation that needs to happen. Year after year, I perceive the dysfunctional relationships within the families I share blood with. I go praying for the brief time that I am there, somehow God will bring peace between my siblings, husbands and wives, parents and children, who have so much unresolved hurt and anger buried inside, one against the other. Truth is aren't all families like that although we may differ in degree?

Finally, this year God answered, not just once, but twice over in just 3 days. My sisters were in 'cold war' mode, not a good start. Moreover, the grand reunion would not be complete without my 2nd brother, who for years had not spoken to anyone in the family except brother no.3 and I. The first miracle happened when I called my eldest sister and had to pass the the phone to sis no 2 to confirm dinner arrangements. The ice was broken, their war ended. The next happened when brother no 3 on his accord invited 'long-lost' bro no 2 to join the party, and he came, surprising everyone.

Once again I saw that look on my sisters' faces, as he wished them happy new year. To watch the elders of my generation chatting, smiling and laughing away is my reward. It's truly what a family reunion should be - it's never about the food or the merry-making; it's about taking that first step to make amends so that forgiveness can close the hidden wounds, no matter who or what caused them. It's about breaking down walls in human hearts, so that love can be built up again....not just once a year, but day after day after day....


15 years ago, when I didn't even know I was lost, God found me,brought me back to Himself
and made me a member of His family. As I joined in posing for the obligatory group photo, I know it's just the beginning of what God can and will do in answer to my prayers for them, as I stand on His own word, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved, you and your household " (Acts 16:31).

If seeing my siblings reunited once again can stir my heart so much, no wonder Father God in heaven desires all to be saved and come home to Him. Man's reconciliation with man is great, but man reconciled to God must surely be the most beautiful, joyous and wondrous family reunion of all. In fact He's even prepared a fantastic feast for that ultimate day; tellingly He calls it a wedding supper - now that's 1 reunion I don't want to miss. 

"All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation:that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation." - 2 Cor 5:18-19

More pix here

A Reason To Stay

So everybody's raving about it... the latest totally made-in-Malaysia movie Ola Bola. So must catch it, right. And I am glad I did. Yes, it's so cliche, so corny... so totally predictable, so heavy-handed playing on emo and hype. But hey, it's so..Malaysian. Right down to even the bowls used in the kitchen, the fun-fair of a past era, the hairstyle, the dressing...all were pat down to a perfect 'T'. 1980 was my time growing up, so I could appreciate how the set-up of each scene was done with such painstaking detail and authenticity.

Of course you don't have to be a football fan to get sucked into the passion of the movie, for as one reviewer puts it, Ola Bola goes beyond football. It strikes a core in the heart of every Malaysian, we cannot help but root for the team, notwithstanding the imperfect acting of an unknown cast. Obviously the movie is meant to tear at our heart-strings and make us shed a tear or two, so what? Perhaps if we can be moved by a bunch of flawed characters doing the right thing for the right reason, then just perhaps there is a glimmer of hope for this nation of ours, which has surely seen better days, like our national football team.

Many are bemoaning the current state of  affairs in our land in every field (pun intended), be it politics, economics or social matters. With good reason too, if we just consider what's happening. We have called our own nation all sorts of names - bankrupt, destitute, basket case, failed state, and of course hopeless. Many think a change of guard is the cure-all for the mess we are in. Out with the old, in with the new. Really? It might work, for a while, I dare say. But if history teaches us anything, it's that empires rise and fall, great leaders live and die, golden civilizations lose their glitter and crumble into the sands of time eventually. For the simple reason all man are fallible.

I don't know about other Malaysians, but all I want as an "anak Malaysia" is simply good governance. I don't expect miracles from leaders, just a measure of responsibility to administer honestly with the power given unto them. I also don't expect miracles from citizens, only that we live in this country we call 'ours' at peace with God and with our fellow human beings, with the same measure of responsibility to contribute to its betterment. Translated it just means we all do our 'job' as Malaysians to the best of our ability in good conscience to God and country. Is that too much to hope for? Well, if I were to buy into every negative thing that's being said about this, that or the other happening in Malaysia, it would appear a lost cause, and I would be better off  flying off to a different shore to live out my life on earth. Or I could just quit by default and keep griping, gossiping or glossing over (depending on your perspective of things) the ills of this country.

There are always 'camps' we choose to be in, just like in Ola Bola. Some of us would surely relate to the captain's sister and the goalie's father. Both sacrificed  their own personal dreams for their families, both resented and couldn't see the 'point' of a brother/a son being all sold-out over kicking a ball around. Likewise, some of us can't get 'worked up' over Malaysia. We have other more important things to take care of... like earn a living, feed the kids, buy that house...which are all indeed important, of course. So let's just leave it to the politicians to argue and fight; all the same. We have 'sacrificed' enough. Let's just live, let live and get by, somehow anyhow. Maybe it just hurts too much to care anymore.

We could be like the captain himself who has to learn the hard way about submission for the common and better good instead of playing to the tune of his own ego. So what will it take for us to give up our rights, privileges or freedom for someone who doesn't have the same skin color, or who comes from a different back-ground? Will there ever be a time when one Malaysian can, not only say to another Malaysian, "I cover you", but mean and do it?

Maybe we are like the buck-toothed reserve, quietly warming a seat for years on the side-lines, until the call to arise comes. Will we continue to hang on to a dream about a united Malaysia, even though it seems so impossible now? Perhaps many times we too have felt like the wannabe No.1 striker, who feels betrayed because the truth wasn't told and life's 'unpredictables' challenge our motivation to continue to do what should be done, whether as an individual  or as a member of this society of humans called Malaysians. Why would we want to fight on, when the effort isn't going to get us the reward we desire? It's a little like trusting in God; why believe anymore when it's not working out our way?

Irrespective of view-points, ultimately the very human humans in Ola Bola all got caught up in the pride of being part of something bigger than a mere game of football. I saw that something bigger in the grand cinematography of the movie. The jaded cynic says all those sweeping landscape panoramas of green hills, blue skies, and everything nice are so contrived. Seen it all before, been there, done that. That may be so. But for me, they remind me of how beautiful Malaysia really still is. In spite of all the ugliness of Malaysians. In spite of all the gloom and doom which continue to hog the headlines. In spite of all the misunderstanding, misconception and missing the mark of true nationhood. I know Malaysia's name is being dragged through the mud, but I don't want to be one of those joining in pulling it down. In spite of all that appears hopeless, I  choose to look up still, with faith and hope, not in people, parties, government or in hope itself. But in the God who created a Malaysia so beautiful, and blessed me to be a Malaysian. For when all else - systems, politics, leadership, law - fail, there is only God to hope in.

Is there any reason I can find to 'stay' with Malaysia? Stay as in don't give up on her, like God doesn't ever give up on all of us, even though we give up on Him. Well, call me a die-hard romantic... I think there is.  Just like how God sticks with me through thick and thin simply because He loves me and thinks me worth it, I will stick with Malaysia, because she is beautiful and worth fighting for, because I love her. That moment of truth came when the guys in the film were belting out off-tune that old patriotic song - one I hadn't heard for so long, but which I still remembered singing once upon a time...

Inilah barisan kita
Yang ikhlas berjuang
Siap sedia berkorban,
Untuk ibu pertiwi!

Sebelum kita berjaya
Jangan harap kami pulang
Inilah sumpah pendekar kita
Menuju medan bakti!

Andai kata kami gugur semua
Taburlah bunga di atas pusara
Kami mohon doa, Malaysia berjaya!

Semboyan telah berbunyi
Menuju medan bakti!

 " ... now these three remain: faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these is love..."
(1 Corinthians 13:13). 

Published MMO 11/2/16