Makeover

My hands throbbed, my fingers got swollen and my back ached.  No, I wasn’t sick.  Just my old body feeling the effects of hard physical labour, something I have not engaged in for the past decade.
The first thing I did right after my retirement after retrenchment was pick up the broom and mop.  I think I make a better maid than the Indonesian 'ibu'  we used to call in to clean house twice a month.  For starters I do it free of charge, plus I do it more often and more thoroughly  than them.  I am ashamed to admit some parts of the house have never been cleaned ever since my husband's passing some 17 years ago.  Like the store room.  Every year I would resolve to clearing and cleaning it.  Year after year, it remained just that – a resolution.

Well,  finally I did it -  in 1 day.  I simply threw out all the boxes of books,  toys and everything from yester-years which nobody had touched since they were chucked in there.  The salvageable stuff came up to 150 kg,  which earned me $50 from the old-newspaper collector, a tidy reward for all the sweat I put in. Now the store is suddenly so spacious - I can actually walk into it.  I am reminded how it’s so obvious we have to discard all the old stuff in our lives to free up space for new things. I am sure many of us have a lot of ‘old baggage’ that needs throwing away. Problem is we never quite get down to it.  Some in fact prefer to cling onto all the dust and dirt of the past for whatever reason and are not really interested in the ‘off with the old, on with the new’ refrain.   Sure, we can find a thousand and one (seemingly justifiable, even good) excuses but it's a no-brainer if we don't get rid of the old clutter taking up all the space, there will never be any room for other/new things  – obviously I am not talking about just cupboards, shelves or stores here.  Sometimes we end up missing the best, just like how it was when not many bothered to make room for Jesus when He decided to come down to earth. How much we lose when we are stuffed so full of ourselves, we have no room for God to dwell in.

The store was only for starters. Next project was the garden,  or rather the jungle in front of and behind the house. I have grand plans to turn the wilderness into an Eden -  flowers in front and
vegetables at the back. But first I had to fork out $700 for 3 guys to chop off all the trees and shrubs that have been towering up so very well year after year, to the extent that I have got young saplings growing from the top of the rear roof gutters. Yes, trees were growing from my roof, and the roots were creeping over into my neighbour’s side, something she had already alerted me about very politely some time back. I don’t think she will be that polite anymore if I still don’t do anything about it.  The guys took barely 2 hours with a power chain-saw .  I took  7 days,  sitting on an upside-down flower pot,  clearing the drains,  picking and pulling at the weeds and grass. And that's only the front plot.  I haven't started on the back portion yet.

 
Sweating it out daily,  I learnt a life lesson about roots.  What seemed just a little inconsequential blade of grass can be attached so tenaciously to invisible roots that spread far,  wide and deep into  the ground. I pull at one and find it's connected to another bigger root that's connected to another and yet another. There's a whole network of very much alive roots underneath the soil that's unseen. I tear, pull, slice, and hack at the mass (mess), till my trusty 20 year old shears can no longer cut properly. Man, those roots were stubborn. And I get to thinking how the Bible talks about roots that spring up and cause trouble.

How many roots we all have buried deep inside us that need to be removed.  Diseased roots of bitterness/unforgiveness that make body and soul sick.  Dying or dead roots of faithlessness that once believed in God. Ugly roots of sin that block us from experiencing and/or communing with a holy God.  And just like the roots that run so deep in my garden,  invisible roots are so deeply embedded in the soil of human hearts,  that many don't even realise how they bind us up  inside in knots. Some choose to deny or ignore them, mostly  because it's just too painful and takes too much effort to tear them out.

For there is no short-cut – they must be forcibly torn out. I remember how my husband would painstakingly  use  a screw-driver to manually dig up clumps of cow-grass before pulling them out. Expert gardeners tell me I must tackle the roots  thoroughly before I can  plant any other thing successfully.  Otherwise they will sprout and grow to overwhelm other plants by 'stealing' soil nutrients away.  Sounds so like how the devil comes to steal kill and destroy man who were 'planted'  on planet earth to bear good fruit.  Bad roots are bad news. 

I saw in the  garden I had neglected over the years a prophetic picture of my own household.  So I fought those roots every morning.  It became a battle not just to physically clear a plot of land,  but to deal with all the twisted roots that had crept into and wrapped themselves around the hearts of my family.  It gave me a lot of satisfaction yanking them out physically and by prophetic extension spiritually.  To finish off the job,  I sprayed just a little  weed-killer over stubborn spots,  being alerted of its potency.  Applying it  reminded me of the all-sufficient power of the blood of Christ to remove once and for all every root that defiles my household garden.

By now I knew  this was my season of getting foundational things right with God, if I wanted to see the breakthrough I had been praying so long for my family.  And He wasn't stopping at the garden. I  left the ground to lie fallow for some days to get rid of the weed-killer effect, but in the meanwhile God set me up for another big task - to repaint the exterior wall.  No contractor wanted to quote me,  because it was just too small an area of work. So I had to DIY. By the time I finished scraping off peeling paint and black mouldy spots, scrubbing and washing off the entire wall,  I felt as if I had no arms left. And I hadn’t even started on putting on sealant and a new coat of paint.

Of course God had an object lesson in there somewhere for me.  Every blemish on the ‘wall’  of our lives must be scraped off totally clean in preparation for God Himself to paint on it anew.  If all it took me was  2 cans of chemically-laden liquid to make an old wall look good again,  imagine what my Creator God who paints every sun-rise, sunset and rainbow, who hangs every star and cloud in the heavens, who put colour into every flower and shades the waters of rivers and oceans...what a master-piece He can paint on the wall of my – nay, of every – life. But first the wall must be prepared to come under the scrapper, to be scrubbed hard, washed, wiped down thoroughly and finally to submit to being painted over.  Just as we can’t simply brush on new paint on an uncleansed wall, likewise God won’t draw on the dirty mouldy canvasses of human lives, blackened by sin.  It’s up to us whether we want to put ourselves in His hands to do what only He can do – clean us up and make us His beautiful work of art.

I haven’t finished with the garden. In fact I expect to be sweating over it continually and continuously, motivated by a desire to make it beautiful and useful, so that it doesn’t degenerate into just a ‘jungly’ mess of weeds and creepers.   I anticipate the pleasure of seeing it bloom well, even if it means throbbing hands, swollen fingers and aching back. The pain is worth it.


Come to think of it, I am so glad my God is also in the business of making human lives bloom. Indeed Jesus  is the master Gardener; He has already expended His all – literally blood, sweat and tears - through dying on the cross , so that every life can grow into its maximum potential of beauty and function – as He designed it to be, simply because He loves us.





“And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; or else the new wine will burst the wineskins and be spilled, and the wineskins will be ruined. But new wine must be put into new wineskins…”
 – Luke 5:37-38

Freedom to Fear

There's something disconcerting about a democracy that cultivates fear in the name of equal rights.

Somebody shoots off his/her mouth carelessly on social media and ends up being fired.  Certainly I don't support rude,  uncouth,  crude, crass or totally uncalled for  remarks about another human being,  no matter what my personal opinion is about their person or the things they do or don't do.  So yes,  I think some people say some pretty distasteful,  disgusting and sometimes dumb  things.  But then,  that's democracy,   isn't it -  the right to say and/or do anything,  as long as it's not a crime.  If there are elements of a crime, then let the authorities do what they are supposed to do. That's how my simple mind processes the concept anyway. 

To put it in practical terms... if you object to what I say – when I am exercising my right to speak -  you can call up your 'like - minded gang'  and march on the streets or at my work-place and demand my boss fire me.  That's your right after all.  Everybody's equal, and equally exercising their democratic rights.  No problem -  except for the boss who is dragged into a most unsavoury situation,  concerning an employee's conduct  during non-working hours regarding non work-related issues. 

Of course the normal employment contract couches actionable misconduct in very wide terms. So I guess it would be well within the rights of every employer to terminate a worker who does anything that can or may adversely affect its reputation,  business, or  operations .  Certainly having a mob of demonstrators brandishing memos outside your office building isn't exactly desired publicity or good advertising PR. Might as well just let go the one who created this troublesome situation in the first place.  After all, it’s legally justifiable. Too bad if that employee was a good worker in all other aspects.

The lesson for all employees is simple - watch your mouth or rather your fingers when you hit the keyboard with your so-clever (you think) comment on this, that or the other, lest you find yourself
being the subject of protests, hate-mail or worse on the chopping board of your boss. In short, if you value your job, shut your mouth (and your brain?) is the safest policy. Likewise for employers, maybe there should be an express clause to prohibit employees from disclosing company details on social media. But I doubt that would work, in a world where everybody’s so ‘connected’, where deleting posts or even accounts can’t hide what can be captured instantly by a screen-shot and viral-ed the next second.

I wonder, is all that democracy or fear ? It’s almost like the public at large can – when it makes enough ‘noise’ - actually hold a private company to ransom to demand a private employee be fired for exercising the right to express an opinion, which is deemed ‘insulting’, ‘annoying’, or just plain disagreeable.  In fact it’s become so ludicrous outsiders can ‘insist’ a person be fired, and not just be allowed to quietly resign.  No matter that we are talking of not just putting a person out of a job but labelling that one as guilty of professional misconduct – how would you like that on your reference/resume? 

Sure, those who dare speak up should be prepared to face whatever consequences – that’s how the cookie rumbles.  But I can’t help wondering, in the democratic process, what happened to mercy and grace for people we find ‘unlikeable’ (whom in all honesty we really don’t think too highly of), who hold vastly different opinions from us?   I guess as far as humanity goes, mercy and grace are reserved for the spiritual realm, although I distinctly remember the Bible exhorts me to be merciful, even as God is merciful. 

It’s so easy to be provocative, although we may not intend to be. By the same measure, it’s always so very easy to allow ourselves to be provoked and to react in (perceived) defence of race, religion and matters dear to our hearts, which others may not share. 

How sad we cannot accept that humans – whether they be leaders or ordinary people in the street – can and do make mistakes. We expect ‘our’  rights to be respected, and woe to anyone who dare trample on our tails.  How tragic we can’t be big-hearted enough to accept apologies tendered and amends made, but like Shakespeare’s revengeful Shylock demand ‘our’ pound of flesh, according to ‘our’ rights. 
We even expect miracles of a transformed nation and a united society just because we democratically voted in a new government. Is it so difficult to exercise patience and forbearance, to build up instead of tear down people who may not “have-it-all-together”?

I have a rather naïve theory that the problem with Malaysians  is the preoccupation with this thing called ‘ours’, because it is unfortunately taken to mean ‘versus’ ie in opposition or against  ‘others’. Inevitably, we end up fighting everyone else over everything.

So I wonder what good is democracy if at the end of the day, all it produces is anger and fear? 

Published MMO 9/1/19

Not quite a good start, But...

It certainly wasn't a good start to the coming new year.  Just 4 days to 2019 and the night before I was due to go outstation,  I saw the lump in my throat.  It was hard and painful on touch.  My throat had been a little sore for some two weeks already,  but I had thought it wasn't anything serious, till  l noticed the lump.  My heart skipped a beat,  remembering how my husband's cancer had started with a lump in his throat.  I did the only thing I knew I had to do - pray. The answer was wait 3 days.  Anyway,  practically speaking I couldn't do much,  as it was already coming to the weekend,  and moreover I didn't want to be distracted from my  outstation mission on the morrow.  It was indeed a fruitful trip,  even though there were just two of us,  and I was at  the wheel some 10 hours in all.

The next day on a whim I approached the doctor who was in attendance at the street medical station where I volunteer every week. The medical service there  was actually very limited to treating simple "non-serious"  ailments like cough, flu, fever and the like. The doctor on duty was his usual brusque self,  and after peering at the lump told me exactly what I had expected anyway -  go have it checked out at a proper hospital,  and somewhat off-handedly added, no,  it wasn't just a sore throat.   The volunteer-nurses there emphasised I should go fast, to avoid undue worry.  A sister thoughtfully prayed for me.

I knew I was to trust God and take His word in faith.  But I felt I needed to go church on Sunday. Maybe God would speak to me an assuring word through a preacher.   Since my regular Bahasa service was off,  I thought I would attend the English service.  But unknown to me,  instead of the normal 2 English services,  there was only 1 at the premises that Sunday, I had come too early. The other service was being held elsewhere; I would be late rushing there anyway.  I got the message loud and clear - just stay home and pray.

So I did. I didn't tell the children as I didn't want them to worry. I also didn't feel led to tell anyone else besides one of my prayer partners to pray for me. I guess there are times when we don't need to ask everyone for prayer, although normally that's the first thing most Christians,  including I,  would do.  But this time it was as if God was telling me He is enough.  I know in my heart He is.  Still I am very much human, very much the "oh ye of little faith"  type,  and I must admit there was this niggling thing in my mind,  wondering what if it's cancer? What an irony it was, receiving the many wishes for a good, happy, joyful new year as 2019 came around, with this 'thing' hanging over me.  Not that I was  scared of dying -  that fear has long since been overcome,  I rest assured my bodily death means everlasting life in heaven with my creator God who has promised it, and a reunion with the husband who has gone on before me some 17 years ago.

So,  no,  it wasn't fear of any disease or death.   It was more of a reluctance in my spirit -  I didn't want to die because I have yet to see God's promises regarding my children and my own destiny fulfilled.  So that was exactly what I told my Abba Father in heaven.  I reminded Him of what had been spoken and prophesied over my life, when I first came to faith in Christ and continuing through the years even now.  I reminded Him of His very personal Words to me as a widow and single mother of children who have missed out on the love of an earthly father.  I literally bargained with God that if I die now from whatever cause,  it means His words and promises in and for my life -  this life that Jesus has saved and redeemed by His precious blood shed at the cross -  would all have failed.  And surely my almighty God who never lies will not - cannot - let such a thing  happen. Not because of me,  but for His own name sake that He is and always will be faithful God who watches over His word to make it come to pass. After all, Jesus said He came to give life and life abundantly, unlike the the thief who seeks only to steal, kill and destroy.

Of course the all-knowing God needed no reminder from mere mortals like me. Still if kings, prophets and saints of old audaciously kept reminding Him of His goodness, I can do no less. And God in His mercy, grace and compassion,  heard my cry -  He answered. For 3 days I prayed and did what He told me to do. I saw a vision of the sword poking holes in the lump, and I knew the best doctor in the world Dr Jesus Christ was Himself performing surgery in my throat.  I declared affirming as it was done spiritually, so be it manifested in the physical.

I had made an appointment to see the ENT specialist after 3 days. Initially I was wondering if I should go to the cheaper government hospital.  But then I remembered the love offering a sister had given me unexpectedly just days before. It was a pretty big sum of $300,  as it turned out,  the bill came up to $331.80.  Truly God had already provided for me.  So there I was in a 5-star hospital on the second day of 2019. I had every expectation of a clear report.  But as the doctor probed the lump,  he said,  "It doesn't look like a cyst,  I am a bit concerned. " Words that aren't reassuring at all.   He started talking about the need to operate to remove it for biopsy.  I have to admit in that moment,  I was shaken inside,  my heart sank.. . Abba,  did I get You wrong? Did You not show me your sword? Did You not do the operation already?

The human doctor said I had to go get my neck scanned first. So obediently I trooped over to the other department. My mind started wandering again... if I had to be operated, I should go to the more affordable UH Specialist Centre.....I started googling the contact no. Then I recalled I had a lot of things lined up that God had already tasked me to do in the next few months. Surely He would make sure I wouldn't be floored by any operation. The doctor who did the scan was very thorough. She took her time, but she never uttered a word and her face was so neutral. I strained to look at the screen, but of course it made no sense to me.  The attendant handed me the report; I quickly peeked at it, and thanked God - the most probable diagnosis was a cyst after all, going by the scientific name of thyroglossal cyst.

Back in the specialist office, my doctor shrugged, mentioning that the one who did the scan was very experienced and he saw no reason to doubt her findings. He further explained this type of cyst was a birth defect and becomes enlarged due to accumulation of fluid. But since I could eat normally, and the pain was just minimal, he recommended no medication, no treatment and no followup needed. Although if I wanted, he could poke a needle into me and aspirate ie drain out the fluid from the lump under anaesthesia. Of course I refused - Dr Jesus had already operated on me.

As I walked - almost danced - out of the hospital, I couldn't stop thanking God. What had started out as not good, rather scary and in fact could have gone worse, had been turned around. Despite my
faithlessness, despite all my wavering, God was His usual self - indeed He is the same yesterday, today and forever more -  loving, merciful and faithful. All life is held in God's hand, whether or not we believe it. He determines when our time on earth is up. And my time wasn't up - I am at peace, knowing nothing whatsoever can short-circuit my life and the marvellous destiny that He has already crafted out for me.

"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose." - Romans 8:28