HOW IT ALL BEGAN

It's a home alone Christmas this year 2024.  One and only son had flown off early on a 4days private holiday to enjoy sun, sea and sand somewhere. No 2 was spending Christmas day with hubby recently back from US with in-laws, as should be. No 1 is doing her own thing.  But it's ok, since the  family had already met up for 2 makan sessions over the past 2 week-ends. So cukup la. It's rather quiet at home, with just me and Maffin aka Fattboi cat . As usual, he only makes noise when he wants food or water; after that he either disappears or snoozes in his fave spots. Today it's the laundry basket. 

Up to Christmas morning itself, I wasn't sure if I should just attend my own English church service, since my regular BM church was not holding one; as many had "balik kampung". In the end I opted to attend my former church BM service instead. I am blessed, because I always get a very very warm

welcome there whenever I pop in . It's great to see "old faces," even greater to see their once young kids all grown up, adding to the congregation. I had a wonderful time worshipping, my heart filled with thanksgiving. But it was only at the very end that I knew why I had to come for this service. I noticed the lady sitting in front of me wiping her eyes as Pastor wrapped up with prayer. So after the benediction, I moved up to ask if I could pray for her. We didn't know each other. But as I prayed giving her the word I had received, she cried even more, collapsing in my arms. I am so glad on Christmas morning, I can be the one to tell her Jesus calls her to let go and let Him carry her burden and heal her broken heart.

Everyone got to take home a huge pie for lunch after the service.  But I got an extra gift, and even though it was just a tin of cookies, I considered it my double portion. Since everywhere I am seeing double portion of things, so I receive that as God-given for me in this next season of my life. 

I remember my first Christmas some 22 years ago ; a mixture of grief and joy. For then it was barely 9 months  since my husband passed on, just some 2 weeks after receiving Christ during Passover in April. Grief because I still missed him dearly. Joy because I knew without a doubt where he was. I have recounted this testimony  many times to many people through these many years . To Christians, non-Christians, people from all races, all ages. Many things I forget, more things I may forget as Christmas-es come and go, but I will never forget my first one. 

Life is such a yo-yo. One minute we can be way up there, delighting in moments of bliss, the next we can be pulled down into such depths of despair we think we can never ever get out of.  When my husband first told me the lump in his throat was cancer stage 4, I felt like my whole world had collapsed. That was how it all began. When God pulled the rug out from under my feet. Before that I had never paid much attention to spiritual things. My parents were Taoists, as was my husband's family. So I just did the "expected things" of an inherited religion. God? Who knows, who cares. I was too busy living life on earth to worry about heaven or hell. 

But when life no longer works as it used to, when you are pushed into a corner and run out of options, any god, all gods, will do. So there I was, at age 40, facing an uncertain future, with a  husband whose chances of survival  were rated 50%  and 3 young kids. Added to that,  I had resigned from a comfortable job, refusing to be transferred out-of-state. For the first time in my life, I really prayed. Standing in front of the family altar, desperate and depressed, I heard a voice "Go find Jesus." So weird, facing a Chinese deity, hearing such words. I didn't see any stars exploding, flashes of lighting or feel the earth move under my feet. Just a very quiet stirring in my heart.  It was only much later I could relate it to God's still small voice that prophet Elijah heard whilst hiding in a cave, wrapped up in his own pity-party.  That was me. 

Well, there was nothing for me to lose. But the only place I knew to find Jesus was in church. And the only church I knew then was the one where my brother was pastoring. I didn't say much, I don't remember what he said, except that he asked me if I would like to receive Jesus into my heart. Honestly I would have willingly received whoever, done whatever in my condition .  But as I prayed what I would later know as the sinner's prayer (though it meant nothing to me then), I was sobbing, because I was being utterly overwhelmed by what I can only describe as wave upon wave of peace smashing into my heart, like a tsunami.  I didn't understand anything. We can all theorize, question, even fight a lot over doctrine, religion, dogma, theology but no one can prove or disprove the validity of an experiential encounter with God, which is totally personal to holder.  All I knew was  I went home, a different person.  

Did my problems disappear over-night? Nah. Actually they got worse. First my husband called me a mad woman, for turning to a "western" God, forbidding me to talk to him about Jesus. But at least he allowed me to go to church. Not that I understood much of what was going on every Sunday with all the songs and sermons. I only knew I was crying a lot,  as my husband's condition was getting worse, despite medical treatment.  I was tired out, ferrying him to and fro hospital. Stressed, still unemployed after 6 months, looking at my rapidly depleting bank account. When the church offered me a job as a kindergarten teacher with a starting monthly salary of $750 , my husband rolled his eyes. I had been earning close to $5k/month before. Still, it was better than nothing. 

4 years after my conversion, my worst nightmare came true. As I threw my late husband's ashes into the sea, I wondered is this how it's all supposed to end? Didn't "those" Christians tell me Jesus heals, that He is a miracle-working God, that nothing is impossible with Him; that even the dead are raised alive ? Didn't my cell members, church pastors and I myself pray hard enough? So like a little baby (which  I was actually), I pouted, sulked, got angry, blamed God. And dared Jesus if He is really the true Almighty God to answer me, where was my husband? I demanded a dream (yeah, disappointment makes a person do stupid things). 

I never got one, but the very next day, my no 2 daughter, all of 8 years old, announces she had a dream...about Daddy. I think God has a keen sense of humor. He answers me through a child who didn't know anything, who can only tell me Daddy's very happy, in a beautiful place. And I hear that voice again, this time, very very tender... "Daughter, what more do you want?" From the depths of a broken heart, I cried, "I want my husband." and the voice replied, "I have given your husband the best." That undid me; finally I got it. My husband was saved, safe forever more, living in the presence of a wonderful, loving God. I could only whisper, "Forgive me, Lord." I have never looked back since that moment in time.

But I still had much to learn through the long grieving process. During one of my "bad-hair" days, when I blurted out in frustration, "I dunno how to be a father, I am only a mother, tell me now, who is going to take care of my kids?" That still small voice answered very simply "I AM Father to the fatherless, a defender of widows." Only much later, I discovered,  I AM is His name, and that's what Psalm 68:5 of my bible says...how many times I have hung on and been comforted by that Word of life. Another time, when I just couldn't stop crying,  I "happened" to hear an old mushy pop song over the radio.."Got nine million nine hundred 

ninety nine thousand nine hundred ninety nine tears to go, And then I don't know if I'll be over you." I was thinking, where do all my 9,999,999 tears go? Again the answer came from His Word in Psalm 56:8 You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book?" But I still wasn't quite satisfied, "So how many bottles of my tears have You collected?" I asked and He replied, "Child, one is enough, because your bottle doesn't have any bottom, you can keep on crying." Like I said, God definitely has a sense of humor.  

It's been 22 years since my first Christmas. Now I understand so much more of a very personal God who loves us so much that He has sent Jesus to be born, to live, to die bearing the penalty of our sin, so that we can live a resurrected life forever with Him  It had all begun with that still small voice in my heart, urging me to go find Jesus. In my darkest season, His light of love shone through to give me a new living hope and a peace that transcends all human understanding. I know I will see my husband again, fully alive, when my time comes. 

Today, that voice still speaks into my life, the Light still shines, bright as the star that shone over a little town called Bethlehem 2000years ago. That was how it all began then; when Christ Jesus was born into a world of darkness. Today our world is still very dark but... Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men, for Christ has already come to save. 

 

On Borrowed Time

My 75 year old cousin called for an ambulance and got herself admitted into hospital about a month ago.  I was overseas at the time, and there was no one else who could help then. She had been experiencing acute leg pain for awhile. 

I visited her after I got back. She was immobile and still in much pain, although they had run tests on her, suspecting a spine infection. But it being a public hospital, things had to wait out their own course of time. Meanwhile she was on morphine to ease the pain. Only after about a week did they put her on intravenous antibiotics for the infection. But her leg was still painful, and she was still immobile. 

I try to visit twice a week, getting her stuff that she needs. One time I even had to get her prescribed meds from the hospital pharmacy; a procedure we couldn't understand nor appreciate, since she's an inpatient.  Surely they could just easily bill her for the meds instead of requiring her to physically get the meds herself. So I  complained to my daughter who runs an online health news portal who promptly posted  it. And to the hospital's credit, they acknowledged their short-coming and promised to revise and improve the procedure. 

The hospital ward is almost always full. And I notice many old patients. To my query on my first visit if she could sleep well, my cousin said not really, not only because of the pain but also because the old lady next to her was prone to shouting every so often, as apparently she has dementia. Kesian. My cousin told me the hospital had already told the relatives to get her admitted into a nursing home, as there was nothing else they could do for her. So after a while, she was  gone, but replaced by yet another old lady.  who had some contraption strapped to her chest; I can imagine her discomfort. The next time I visited, my cousin told me the old lady had passed away quietly without anyone even noticing till her son came to visit in the afternoon and found her unconscious and very cold.  Opposite my cousin is yet  another elderly patient. My cousin's own elder brother and wife are also suffering from serious health issues. 

And I just got to know my sister-in-law had a fall some 8 months ago which is still affecting her leg. Her husband's  nerve problem is also worsening, compounded by diabetes/high blood pressure, causing him much leg pain. Meanwhile a friend of mine is suffering from  prolonged soreness in her mouth, despite repeated visits to the public hospital and trying all sorts of oral medication. 

                               

It's as my mechanic puts it...old bodies are like old cars, very prone to breaking down here and there, more and more as they get older. There comes a time when the old car costs too much or simply can't be repaired anymore...it's deteriorated into junk. There are many such cars in my neighborhood. Every morning I pass them by as I go cycling. They have been parked in the same spot for years, the tyres already flat, with pieces of paper stuck on windscreens - car dealers advertising to buy. There's even one by the roadside, stripped down to just its bare metal shell.

Aging humans are not junk-cars, destined to be discarded. All humans are fearfully wonderfully made in the image of our Creator.  But the reality is when I find myself forgetting where I put this or that thing I was just holding in my hand a couple of minutes ago, when  my sleep is always disrupted by a constantly dry mouth, stiff fingers or multiple trips to the toilet, I am reminded of the frailty of all human lives. There's no immortal pill that we can swallow, no  treatment or exercise regime  that can keep our bodies forever beautiful, strong and fit as a fiddle.  Sure we can delay the ageing process. We can and should eat well, take care of our physical, emotional and spiritual health , so as to keep the "old engine" running even if it's not at full speed,  at least it's still running. But actually the truth is we all live on borrowed time. 

Recently I received news of a friend's passing barely 3 weeks after our last watsapp, when she asked if I could help with some legal work she was involved in. She was in her early 50s, a cancer survivor for many years even without conventional treatment,  a strong woman of faith.  Daily news report fatal accidents/disasters/catastrophes involving the young, the old, male, female, irrespective of race or background, not only in Msia, but all over the world. I am sure no one, in normal circumstances, wake up expecting today would be the last day of their life on earth. I know, I know, death is such a morbid subject. Conservative traditional Chinese avoid talking about it altogether; Hokkiens consider it "suay" , which according to my limited understanding means taboo or bad luck. 

But whether or not we talk about it,  we know it's there, waiting in the shadows of darkness. At times we may even think it's a welcome end to a life of seemingly endless pain or suffering. Like my cousin, who once got so depressed she said she doesn't want to live anymore. She is a new Christian, having only recently opened her heart to Jesus. But she can't understand why God is (seemingly) not doing anything to heal her; in fact she thinks God's the cause of her condition. I tell her that's not true; but I know it's hard to understand and accept that God is good even when bad things happen to us. Christians are not exempt from trials and tribulation in what the bible tells us is a fallen world.  But that's hardly any comfort to my cousin or anyone else for that matter.

So I let her rant and cry. After all I have gone through that stage myself, years ago faced with the death of a husband, and even thereafter, because it's not a one-time experience. Disappointment is a natural reaction when we don't get what we want, whether it's from loved ones, friends, strangers or  God Himself. We feel hurt, we despair; we get "heart-sick." It's what the bible calls the "desert experience" of the soul, when we are apt to think God has forsaken/ forgotten us at best, or there's no God at worst. Unfortunately some of us never get out of the desert mentality, because we don't get it that God is God who works not according to our expectations. 

I can't do much to help my cousin come out of her desert. I can only pray that in this  journey that she has to go through, she may know she is not alone, that God is with her, holding her up, every step of the way.  Though she can't see or feel it, in spite of all the contra-indications, she can choose to believe it, and come out having a deeper revelation of the Jesus she called upon - He who is alive, good, faithful and true....

As I discovered and am still discovering 25 years down the line, through thick and thin, sunshine and storm, uphill and in the valley, living on borrowed time need not be depressing, when I have a God who is walking with me through it all.   Quite the opposite. It stirs a passion in my heart  to be all that my God calls me to be, to do as much as I can, what He tells me to do,  whilst I still have breath, whilst I have today to live in, as Jesus said, "...night is coming, when no one can work" (John 9:4) . Though it may be so much simpler to just do my own thing, live my own way.

Numerous times, the word of God reminds me that our suffering on earth in this present time  is but "a little while...a light momentary affliction,"  that can't compare with the glory that's coming for those who believe. For those who believe have been born again into a living hope in a living God raised from the dead. So we can hang on to our confession of faith, though in this borrowed time we are grieved by various trials. So we can, like apostle Paul exhorts, rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rom 5:3-5) 

Not rejoice as in a masochistic desire for pain, but in the confidence that in all things - tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, or sword - we are more than conquerors in and through Christ Jesus, who loved us (Rom 8:37) For God's love has never and will never fail us.

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you" - Isa 
43:2

ROBOT with a HEART

 I wasn't really interested when the TGV feed showed up on my fb featuring The Wild Robot, an animated tale about a robot ship-wrecked on an island with a bunch of animals. I am not into robots.  But on a whim, I googled the movie reviews, which was very good by all accounts. So thinking there shouldn't be any crowd on a Wednesday afternoon, I drove to the nearby shopping mall, only to spend nearly 1/2 hour, going 3 times round the car park, before finally finding a spot alongside the loading bays. I was wondering where all the people came from; it's not the weekend, but a working day in  mid-week! Well, at least the cinema wasn't at all packed. 

It's been a long time since I last caught a cartoon. I grew up on all the old Disney favourites - Bambi, Snow White, Cinderella, Beauty & Beast, Little Mermaid. Then came Shrek, Sponge-Bob, Lion King, Frozen and many others. Dream Works  has not lost its touch of beautiful animation and moving moments.  Turning The Wild Robot, a best-seller authored by Peter Brown, into big screen entertainment certainly makes business sense in this AI age. It's a stroke of genius to use animals instead of people, as a very apt parody of the human race.  Their jungle-life is indeed a reflection of the "jungle" world we inhabit, as the various animal characters are such an accurate reflection of human behavior, at its worst and yet at its best. 

From the wily fox Fink with an unfulfilled longing for love, camouflaging his insecurity and loneliness behind a facade of up-shot confidence, to the herd mentality of geese rejecting one that isn't part of the "gang" to fear of the "stranger" personified in a robot that literally fell out of the sky. It's a beautifully woven tale that stirs the heart; even making me tear up at certain parts. 

I only found out at the end of the credit-roll that the voice-over of Roz the robot was done by Lupita Nyong'o, the award-winning actress in the alien movie A Quiet Place - Day One . There it was her eyes; here it was her voice that brought life into a machine. Hats off to her intonation and nuances of speech that literally transformed a mere piece of programmed metal into a feeling emotional being, capable of giving and receiving love. 

Roz or officially Rozzum 7134, a futuristic utilitarian machine, overrides her own program to relate to life on an island inhabited only by animals. She accidentally destroys a goose nest,  birds and all but for 1 egg , which hatches into a (very cute) gosling, that attaches itself to her as its first imprint. So begins a touching relationship as Roz  learns to be a mom, taking tips from an opossum with its own brood of 7 (also very cute babies)  “I don’t have the programming to be a mother,” is her robotic reaction.  “No one does,” the opossum (very wisely) retorts,  “We just have to do the best we can.” And that is something all mothers can definitely relate to. 

I love how typically robotic Roz is, especially in the beginning, when she keeps asking the animals "Do you need assistance?" seeking instructions to execute and to rate her performance in  completion of tasks, on a scale of 1-10 - it's hilarious. Of course none of the animals need any assistance, they are just predators and prey, living off each other, in their automatic survival-of-the-fittest mode.  It's the robot that needs assistance; for itself in adapting to a world that's totally outside its program, and in having to take care of something that's definitely not its own kind - a living breathing thing which in Roz' words  "stalks me, and makes noise and makes simple tasks more complicated, or impossible."

But the robot turned mom takes her task seriously, having been told  to teach her "baby"  which she names Brightbill (a humanising touch  instead of assigning it a number as to a robot) just 3 things - eat, swim and fly, in preparation for the annual geese migration during winter.  Roz does it with much gusto, which makes for some funny moments, especially with Fink, the fox who has become part of the oddball  family.  Like a typical father, he hunkers down to telling bed-time stories to baby Brightbill. He has quite an imagination too; depicting Roz as perched in the heavens, answering the gosling's  call by coming down to care for it. What an apt illustration of how God in heaven responds when we call out to Him....  "For whoever calls on the name of the LORD shall be saved." (Romans 10:13)

So the day comes when young Brightbill  ventures out to join the resident flock of geese on the island,  only to be rejected outright as "not one of us" because he was raised by a monster without beak and wings. How real this is in human society. We may not say it, but prejudice and presumption against those who are not "like us"  is a deeply embedded human trait.  But there's saving grace, there are always those who can see beyond,  as personified in the wise old leader-goose, who instructs Roz to train BrightBill to be fit enough to fly with them. 

It's so touching when the moment of parting comes, without so much as a goodbye between the two. Only a fleeting glimpse as  Brightbill is led to fly past a forlorn Roz on the cliff, leaving only a feather floating down to her. It's heart-wrenching when he realizes he never got to say I love you to the one who raised him up. All parents can totally relate to the unspoken pain when our "baby-birds" leave the home-nest to do their own thing.. I have watched two of mine walk out the door; it doesn't get any easier, no matter how many times we go thru it.

I thought that would be the end of the movie, but no, it gets even better from that point.  Assignment completed, Roz could have beamed herself back to earth- for a factory re-set. But she chose to stay to save all the critters on the island, as the worst winter hit them. So  Roz braves the elements to bring them all into the little house she had built earlier as her home. Expectedly all hell breaks loose in the confined space , as predators and prey behave according to their animal instinct, fighting each other in self-preservation mode.  Roz is too exhausted after her heroic SAR mission, so it's up to Fink to rise up to the occasion. He deserves a standing ovation for  delivering a fine speech about living and loving together to survive. And as Roz - the outsider - proved her willingness to give her all for them, they too, in turn, learn to give of themselves to each other. It was a poignant reminder for me of how Jesus came and lived in a messy human world, sacrificing His all for us all. 

Again I thought this must be the end of the movie...what else is there left, with Roz' transformation from robot to mom to savior accomplished successfully.  But hey, there's some more. The flock of migrating geese get into their own adventures, as they cross earth.  Perforce Brightbill takes over as leader, finally coming into the place where he "belongs." And he gets to balik kampung to the island where he grew up, to reunite with his robot-mom. At least for a little while, until the island gets invaded by a robot mission from earth, bent on getting Roz, the rogue robot, back to be re-programmed properly  so that she "should not feel anything at all.” 

Of coz that leads to a climatic fight to rescue Roz. In the end it's Roz herself who decides to go back to "her kind," where she belongs, determined to make her world a better place, confident that the "heart" which has somehow  evolved in her can't be over-ridden by any program inputted into her mechanical brain. So it's not happily ever after. Yet, the parting is not forever. For on the next winter-migration trip, Brightbill makes a little detour to planet earth. Will he find robot Rozzum 7134 or his mom Roz? I am so glad it ends well. And since the book is a trilogy-series, I  hope there is more to come of the wild robot with a heart. 

DYING FOR PIZZA

 I said goodbye to my second daughter with a glad yet sad heart. She was leaving Msia, to join her husband who had left a day earlier for America, after his long 2 months' break back home. It would be 6 months before I get to see her again. She has been travelling to/fro USA multiple times over the past years, as he was working there. But after they got married (finally), it looks probable to be a permanent move. After she gets her spouse visa, who knows when she will be back. 

I am glad for them; of course they must stay settled together, no more separated, so they can build their own home, their own family. The day before she left, I sat her down to pray blessing for her new life as an "official" wife. Everyday ever since she was a teenager, when God gave me a vision of her as His flower, I have prayed she bloom with the beauty and fragrance of Christ wherever she is planted. I am so blessed God gave me visions for all my children from when they were young.  And that's what I told her to remember as I blessed her going, to begin a "proper" married life. I didn't expect to cry, after all, she has been coming and going so often; I should be used to it by now.  But mothers being mothers, I found myself choking and  tears welling up as I prayed. The day after, I walked into her room. As usual, it was still messy, though I could see she had tried to tidy it up. I thought of clearing the stuff lying around , but I couldn't get myself to do it. Maybe another day. Let it be for now. My one and only son left in the house told me he wasn't eating that nite. 

So it looked like (another) maggi mee dinner by myself. That's what I normally do, whenever I am home alone, which can be quite often. Like all young people, my children have always had their own things going on, which I know I  shouldn't begrudge. But instead of moping, I decided to go for a movie. That afternoon I had my weekly prayer session with the Orang Asli kids in the children's home where I volunteer regularly. Still I managed to make it just in time to catch "A Quiet Place - Day One" in the late evening. One of the perks of being a white-haired senior citizen is a cheap movie ticket. Especially on a weekday, you can have almost the whole hall to yourself - I counted 6 other souls with me in the cinema. 

I was first attracted by the mention of a cat in the movie review. Apparently Day One is the prequel to a popular alien movie series, which I had never heard of.  So I actually went for Frodo, the cat, which turned out to be a real beauty with its black/white fur, and a "purr-fect"  actor too, though it never uttered even a meow (unlike my own very noisy cat Maffin). Frodo was such a so-koool cat, strutting around in the chaos of New York City, which has been utterly overcome by ferocious gigantic spider-like aliens, bent on attacking anything that made any noise. Which meant everyone had to be (literally dead) quiet, in order not to be turned into instant very bloody minced meat. Hmmm, I wonder what if like the aliens, we can't see anything, but can only hear. We humans are so used to making and living in the midst of noise. As the movie begins, it flashes a note that the noise New York city makes measures 90 decibels. As a comparison, Google says the mean noise in KL during normal traffic conditions on working days ranged from 67.4 – 73.6 decibels. But I digress...

A Quiet Place didn't have many fancy scenes. It's really apocalyptic gloom and doom - well, it is a horror movie after all. Throw together a black woman dying of cancer and a white man who is her diametrical opposite,  emotionally scared of death into the chaos of an alien invasion.

The result is a very poignant drama of human relationships, spiced up by the spectre of horrid flying creatures all out to kill.  The gravity of the situation was very well accentuated by an effective music score. This is the first time I hear of Lupita Nyong'o, the lead actress. She is Kenyan/Mexican and has several international accolades to her name. With her big expressive eyes, she is very good as Sam, whose dying wish is just to get some pizza from her fave joint in Harlem, after attending a puppet show with her fellow hospice mates. But that involved maneuvering through an alien-infested city with her cat. 

The obvious contrast of Sam walking right in the middle and in the opposite direction of masses streaming out to get to the evacuation pier was so well-placed. When everyone is thinking of trying to stay alive, she is thinking of...pizza! Some may well question what's the (dumb) obsession with getting pizza, when you could end up as an alien's next dinner. 

But I perfectly understand Sam's mind. She's dying already anyway. It reminds me of my own husband, stricken with cancer. In  my desperation to keep him alive as long as possible, I put the whole family on an all steam, zero salt diet. After two days, he told me to just let him enjoy food while he could. Humans are so apt to get our priorities all wrong. It's as Jesus taught, in Matthew 16:25-26 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?

So this woman's heart only yearns for the pizza from the days of her youth, when her father played beautiful piano music in a downtown pub. She isn't interested in a young man tailing her, but what starts as "tolerating" his presence grows into an inter-dependence that's beautiful to watch. There's no lovey-dovey romantic stuff. It's just an unspoken "caring" born out of the grit of having to face life's adversities together somehow anyhow. So they are both ok, ok, ok (the only words Eric, the male protagonist, can manage), even though their world is collapsing all around them.  And I guess watching her dying with such dignity grew him up.

There was a particularly touching scene when they made it back to Sam's apartment, and she finds all her pain medication gone. (I can relate to her distress; as I remember my husband's morphine patches, which are so necessary to ease the pain of the cancer in the body.) Both have been through harrowing moments, keeping quiet, trying to dodge the aliens.  Actually come to think of it,  it can be pretty hard trying to be quiet all the time; even breathing, especially hard breathing, panting or gasping emits noise. So it was indeed very clever of Sam to use a storm as a cover-up and a let-up for both of them to just scream out loud their pent-up fears and frustration as the thunderclaps resounded in the air. And that's when Eric rises up to be the hero, going out by himself to get the medication Sam needs. 

There were moments of suspense. As when Eric follows Frodo, the smart cat, leading him to perch precariously on a ceiling ledge with aliens just below them. And escaping the creatures in the surging waters of a subway tunnel, ending up safe...in a church,  alight with candles. It brings to my mind the words of the Bible in Isaiah 43:2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.

There are tender scenes too. When they finally get to the pizza place, it's all destroyed. But Eric again hunts around till he manages to find another joint where, yes, he got Sam her pizza. And Sam, giving her (long dead) father's old jacket to Eric, as they stand on the balcony, watching the rescue boat that's moving out of the pier. And the final climax, when Sam tells Eric to "Run," as she distracts the aliens swarming around them. She deliberately makes loud noises, using a rod to smash/hit cars, drawing them her way, to open a way for Eric to jump off the pier and swim out to the waiting boat.

Of course, the ending is a foregone conclusion; Sam will die. But the way it was played out was so...moving. Eric is rescued from the waters. Clutching Sam's old jacket and Frodo, he reads her last message, telling him how to take care of her cat, as she thanks him for "bringing her home." And the scene flashes to Sam herself, smiling as she pulls the plugs out of her boombox player. As the lyrics "I'm feeling good" blasts through the air, aliens loom up behind her. 

What a way to go - with a literal bang. When it's time for me to go, that's how I want to go.. without any fear,  home to a place already reserved and prepared for me. I tell my kids, when I go, make my funeral wake a celebration, even as there will be mourning. For I know it's beautiful where I am going, where my husband has gone before me, where my good Father, my faithful God ..."will wipe away every tear from (my) eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away," and "these (His) words are trustworthy and true." (Revelation 21:4-5)

 

 

 

 

HOW COULD I....FORGET

 First it was my handphone.

 I just couldn't remember where I had put it; it must have been the food that distracted me so much.  I was at a Christian pot-bless fellowship, celebrating a brother's "house-warming" as well as get-together with  my street ministry volunteers.  There was so much food, I was going for second and third helpings of pasta, fried rice, beehoon, chicken, roast duck, rendang, salads, and desserts. The apartment was on the 13th floor, which accorded a very good view of the glorious sun-set, overlooking busy streets with shops lit up as night fell.      

 

I finally found my handphone in my bag after all. It reminds me of the well-known cartoon about the old grandpa who's searching high and low for his spectacles, only to have his young grandchild point at him, saying "they are on your head, grampa." An hour later, I was searching again, this time for my car-key, as it was time to leave. Well, obviously no one can call a car-key. So I looked in every nook and corner of the apartment, I checked and re-checked my bag many times.  Where could I have left it? I was sure I had put it into my bag after I parked at the very public lot of the condo building. Now I wasn't so sure. Hmmm, could I have left it in the car without locking it? My host offered to accompany me down. 

I was praying very hard as we walked to the parking lot. Phew, my car was still there. Straight away I tried the door on the driver side...it was locked. There was no key in the ignition. O no, now what...suddenly the brother called out,  "Hey, your key is here." I went over to where he stood in front of the car . And sure enough, there was my car key, sitting (very obviously) on the - car bonnet. I was totally

flabbergasted. It had been there in full public view for 3 hours. God knows how many people had passed up and down and surely would have seen it. Anyone could have just taken hold of it and driven away my brand new (2 months old) car. And I only have myself to blame. I was horrified at my own carelessness. I don't even remember how the key got there in the first place. And most of all I was so unspeakably thankful, grateful for God's angels who must have been guarding my car. Lately I have felt led to pray protection over all my family, our possessions, relationships,  homes, work, finances, everything down to our coming in and going out. How faithful my God is to cover us under the shadow of His wings.

I tell myself I really must train my mind to remember. It's not only things I forget, I also tend to forget names and faces. So I am always very embarrassed when I meet people who remember me and address me by name, but  I honestly can't place who they are. It took me some years to remember all the names of the 20 odd Orang Asli children I teach weekly, and I still forget some to this day. Now I have got a new batch and I am struggling to recall who is who. It doesn't help when they are so naughty they purposely mis-identify themselves, just to have some fun with "teacher." 

I also can't remember places. I am what I call "directionally challenged." Even with waze or google , I can get quite lost. I am hopeless at reading maps, and even worse with estimating distances. I never know what's 100 or 300 meters. So I am always either turning too early or too late, over-shooting the turn. I remember in my first attempts to use waze, I ended up literally in a cemetery. 

And these days I find I am even forgetting what day it is. Just a couple of weeks ago, I actually forgot to go teach my weekly bible class to "my" OA kids. I thought it was a Monday, when it was already Tuesday. So it was a case of teacher "ponteng" class, instead of the other way round. I think it's something retired folks kinda slip into. Because we are retired, all our days have become "same same." So it doesn't make much difference what day of the week it is. Except for major festivals, I don't even know when/why it's a public holiday anymore. 

Is it age catching up? I guess. But I also know some not-that-old frens who have problems remembering where they put stuff which were in their hands just minutes ago. Or when this or that happened. So it can't just be age. 

Whatever. I can forget car keys, handphones, faces, and days. Sure these are important;  still, forgetting such stuff merely results in inconveniences to me. But there's something absolutely essential I keep reminding myself never ever to forget.  

It was mother's day when I misplaced my car key at nite. I had already been "celebrated" in the morning in church with the usual tribute, prayers and gifts. Of course it's right to appreciate the "universal queen" who gave birth to every child on planet earth.But as I stood up front, I could see some young people in the congregation wiping away tears. I guess they must be remembering the mothers in their lives. After the service, I held my usual bible class with the children from a KL home. I asked them how they felt about mother's day. Some looked blankly back at me, some shrugged, two brothers said they never knew their mother. I asked further if their parents had ever said I love you, or Sorry, to them. Almost all shook their heads. I felt so sad for them. And I am sure there are many others like them; children of this generation and children of the previous generations who are now grown into adults who have never heard those words. Like me for one. I don't blame my parents; it's just not their "way." 

I know some people who would rather skip church on festive occasions like mother's or father's day, precisely because they really can't "buy" into the celebration bit, because for them, there's nothing, no reason to celebrate really. Especially if they come from broken homes, or are orphans. Much as I understand the outpouring of heart-felt appreciation for parents, I feel for those whose experiences are simply outside the norm. 

So I told the kids I can't be their mom, but I can pray and bless them with the love of a God that is greater than any earthly parent; who never leaves nor forsakes them, who has their best interests at heart, and will always take care of them, no matter what happens or does not happen in their lives - the One Christians  call our Abba Father in heaven. And that's the one essential thing in my life I cannot, must not, forget....the perfect love of God in Christ Jesus, that has been poured forth into my life just some 20 years ago when I was a very grown-up adult, that keeps me in perfect peace, right into in my old age, even when the whole world is being turned upside down, even when there are many other things I forget. 

"You keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You." - Isaiah 26:3 

"Even to your old age I am He, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save." - Isaiah 46:4 

OF BIRTH(DAYS) AND DEATH

 It's been a week since I turned 3 score and 4 years old - that's 64, for those who don't know what's a score (=20). And if I add up 6+4 = 10, which biblically means God's authority, completeness, order, and divine perfection.  I like to take that as my life being ordered into the fullness of divine authority that God has blessed me with on this side of earth. Our family mode of celebrating birthdays is very simple; it's just a makan get-together with my brother praying over the one whose birthday is being celebrated. 

I left it to the young ones to decide where to eat, since I eat everything/anything. The watsapp discussions went back and forth; from steam-boat, to Japanese to Chinese. The steam-boat place was too far. The Jap place charged $100/pax to reserve a place for the 8 of us. (Ya, crazy.) So in the end it was the simple, comparatively cheaper Chinese open-air kopi-tiam round the corner of my house. Which was fine actually. This year the bday take was slightly different. There were 3 more added to our usual 5 in the immediate family -  my son-in-law (husband of no 2), back from US on his holiday break, and the 2 significant others of my no 1 and no 3, totalling 8. 8 is another number I like, coz it means a new beginning, a new order, a "born again" event. No, I am not "into" numbers to buy lottery tickets. It's just that many times God uses numbers to speak to me. 

As usual my brother did the honors to pray for the bday "girl", as a dearly-loved brother and a Pastor. Can't get better than that. But this time, I felt I should pray too; for  my bday wish. So it was I raised my petition to the One who sits enthroned in heaven and on earth, who knows all our hearts. I told God my one and only birthday wish was simply that as He had blessed me with my immediate family, He would rope in all who were seated at the table that nite to be in His family, and that all would be blessed to know Him personally. It did not matter to me what anyone thought of my prayer-wish. I had articulated it aloud in the physical and spiritual realms, declaring God's own desire to save all. 

I am very blessed. I not only received prayer, I got treated to a nice meal, and got nice gifts. Usually the uncle pays the makan bill, but this time, my eldest princess beat him to it. And on top of the big ang-pow from my generous brother, I also got another big-gie from the children -  a brand new handphone. My 1 year old Huawei was "ghosting" up - of its own accord, it would suddenly go haywire, switching screens by itself. 

I think it's the cat's fault -Maffin is always plopping his (big) head on hand-phones left lying around; must be the warmth of the screen. So now I am very careful not to let him near my new one. I also got a very nice big shawl from my son's girlfren and a yellow honey-dew melon from her mom. How sweet of them. I had been planning to get a new shawl, hopefully on my next trip to India, as the Pashmina shawl I now use is about 20 years old and kind-of tattered. The honey-dew came in very handy too as I had a prayer group pot-bless meeting a couple of days later. 

Indeed I felt very blessed by the love of my nearest, dearest and now extended family. The next day I met up with an old fren for lunch. We go back at least 10 years, when she was running a restaurant in the busy KL Chinatown area with her husband. I would sometimes visit them on my street ministry days to reach out to her workers. We kinda lost touch when her husband passed on from cancer. She had a tough time dealing with this and many other family issues. 

As much as I try to help, ultimately I know only God can mend broken hearts - and that only if we let Him. Some people are so disappointed why/how God could "let" bad things happen that they totally turn away, disgusted by a God who doesn't seem to care or have the power to do anything to prevent the bad from happening. That's not true; God always cares, but all humans have to go through the "wilderness" experience, when God seems to be absent. Jesus Himself went through it. No human is exempt from those tough times. I could only pray for this sister, that she wouldn't choose to turn her back on God. 

So I was really glad to be able to catch up with her again, after like some 4 or 5 years. In her own words, she went through hell. In 18 months, she lost 3 beloved family members, some time after her husband's demise. An elderly one died due to covid. Then a middle-aged relative succumbed to cancer exacerbated by covid. And the shocker was a young seemingly successful female relative who jumped from her condo building in the middle of the nite.  The worse part was my fren is  working in the funeral business, and she had to see to all the funeral arrangements for all of them.  There were tears in her eyes as she recalled how she had to piece together the body parts of the one who had committed suicide. I cannot imagine her pain. How did she cope? She said she had to hang onto God, for that was all she had to hang onto, in the end. I knew when she said that, she would be ok.  Truly we all grieve when death and suffering strikes. 

But in the midst of a very bad (and worsening) world, those who choose to believe the God of the Bible know He is good. Jesus Christ experienced everything that was bad in the human world. He knew hunger, pain, rejection, torture, and a horrible death on a cross. But out of the greatest bad, when He walked out of the tomb, fully alive, came the greatest good - for all of mankind. God through Christ proved there is hope and redemption beyond all the bad, beyond the pain, beyond death. My fren  went thru hell, but she has emerged alive and stronger. She is no longer angry or disappointed with God; she has His peace, which is truly beyond all human understanding. 

Yet she confesses she feels guilty because she isn't doing enough, as she is no longer involved in "church ministry" which she used to be so active in before. She is "only" in the funeral business, part of which entails communicating with bereaved family members. It's never easy talking about death, what more literally "handling" death.  I have to tell her it's not about church. Christians are so used to thinking of "ministry" as only applying to "church work." If we do things outside on individual basis on our own, without involving the "official" church , we think it's not counted as "ministry." I have to tell her that's a lie. I know many Christians who are quietly ministering to people around them. Like the sister who herself has health problems but still drives a neighbor out to pay an assessment bill. Or the lady who voluntarily uses her own 4WD to drive a group of Christians weekly all the way from KL to Johor, into orang asli villages situated deep in the interior. They are all volunteers, from different churches, different backgrounds. 

I am very sure God calls them His ministers, even if church may not count them as such, even if church doesn't know at all. Angels already recorded their deeds in heaven. These nameless faceless ones are not  preachers waxing eloquent from a pulpit, they may not be prayer warriors, banging on heaven's door 10 hours a day, they may not even know how to talk about Jesus to others. But they minister to those around them who are in need, just by loving others as Jesus did. So I tell this sister she doesn't need to compare with anybody else. She's doing ministry all right, where God has put her in the very midst of death, to give that last human touch of life to a dead body, she is caring for those left behind to mourn. 

As I think about this dear sister/fren who has seen and will continue to see death in all its ugliness, I thank God for birthdays. Birth-days are the direct opposite of death; birth is a celebration of life. I am especially thankful that for those who experience the "born again" life in Christ Jesus, death does not have the last say. 

"When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”...thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." - 1 Corinthians 15:55, 57

NEW WHEELS AND MORE

 You can get it by end of this month, if you don't mind settling for a different colour. So my friendly car salesman tells me. I had booked a new Bezza at the end of Dec 2023. I was told there was an expected  waiting period of at least 4-6 months.  Apparently that's short. If I wanted the manual model, it would take even longer...9 months easily. I scratched my head; you mean the manual one is so popular? No, dummy, nobody wants manual, so it's production is pushed down the time-line. Imagine 9 months to get a car; one can birth a baby into the world already. Anyway as everyone tells me... aunty, nobody drives manual car anymore la. 

Says who?...I drive a manual proton saga which has served me very well for the past 17 years. It's got good pick-up, is solid enough to withstand the occasional knocks, and gives good mileage. I don't need fancy leather seats, or all sorts of techy systems that go beep beep every time I take off my seat belt or reverse into a parking lot. But all good things must come to an end, at least on this side of earth. So it was time to retire old faithful, as it was costing me quite a bit , going in and out of the workshop more and more frequently. When I asked my mechanic why he keeps changing this and that ting every time I bring the car in, he smiles and says straight into my face, "Ma'am, it's like old people, you know, here pain today, there pain tomorrow." Ya, I get the idea. So I ask him again since he so smart car guru....what cheap new car got? I heard the special offer Azia very good deal at $22k. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. I won't tell what he said, otherwise I might open myself to a defamation suit. Suffice to say he recommended a Bezza to suit my minimal needs. Auto, not manual.

So that's how I ended up wandering into the Perodua showroom nearest my house and met this guy who turns out to be a fellow Christian attending a BM church like me. And he's Chinese too. Small world. He nicely handled everything, right down to offering to sell off my old faithful.

He had warned me it would be a long wait to get the new "baby." So it was a surprise when he called about 2 months later about an earlier availability. I have learnt to be careful when things crop up, so instead of jumping at the chance, I waited for God's confirmation that it was His favor and goodness that's accelerated the whole process. I am already very blessed 2 of my children  contributed towards the purchase price, so they actually have a share in the new baby. Obviously I needed to settle the payment first though.

For some reason I couldn't do it online, so I had to visit my neighborhood bank. And that surfaced up an issue, which I wasn't even aware of. I couldn't find my IC in the normal slot in my  wallet when the bank officer requested it for verification. I don't even know when or how I lost my IC. And if not for this visit made necessary because of the car, I would have been (blissfully ) unaware I was walking around without my IC.

I was due to leave for Oman in 5 days. I was dreading having to run around to apply for a replacement IC , knowing how long the wheels of govt bureaucracy take to move. So off I trotted to the police station to do the first thing ..make a police report. But I was pleasantly surprised at how efficient our men (or rather the woman in my case) in blue were. I was in and out of the station in less than 10 mins, police report in hand. I didn't even have to write down anything myself. She just asked me to confirm the circumstances and with a click here and a click there on the computer, printed out the report. All I had to do was sign off at the bottom. I checked..it was all there, all my personal particulars were correct. I wondered to myself, the govt data system already knows so much about me, why the need for a physical IC in this digital age!?

My next stop was JPN , IC department. I reached there pretty late at 4 pm. Again I had presumed wrongly that it would be a long wait. For I was in and out in 15 mins. Everything was already in the database. I just posed for my photo, confirmed I am a Christian, and got my finger prints scanned. And I would even have gotten the physical card on the very day itself,  if not for the fact that the system shuts down automatically near to closing time. So I was told to come back ...not in 2 weeks, not in 1 month...but the very next day. I didn't need to carry any  temporary paper IC, unlike in the old days. How times have changed, in this case definitely for the better.

So the very next day, I was back in JPN office. This time I didn't even have time to warm my seat before my number was called. In 2 minutes flat, I held a new IC in my hand. What a record - a new IC in 2 days...what was lost was replaced with a brand new thing at super-fast speed. 

Now I have a new car, a new IC. But more than just the physical blessings, as I pondered over all that had happened, I know God is preparing and accelerating unprecedented new things in my life for this season. And what the devil (always) tries to steal, kill and destroy, Jesus replaces with life abundant. My identity is safe in Christ.

But I need to let go of my own desires. I wanted a silver colored car, that would take minimum 6 months to be delivered. Here was immediately available a grey one. I have  my own plans, which I think are good. God has different and always better plans. But I had to give up my "good things" to tap into His best things.

Now I get to zip around with new wheels,  definitely a nice "promotion" from a 17 year old junk. But it's not just about a physical car. 3 months into the  

new year 2024, I have already traveled to places I have never been before, for prayer (in Oman)     

and missions in Lahore, Pakistan and Amritsar, North India.            

                                       

              

Even on holiday  I get to do things I have never done before.  

What a joy to live, to serve. I  am so glad God preserves me to give me more, to do more for Him. So although the enemy of my soul will always try to hinder, delay or stop what God's doing in my life,  there's no way he can succeed. What I may lose, whether it's a physical IC or whatever, God restores fully in double quick time. Sure, there are problems along the way. So what. Jesus said "I have said these things to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” 

That's enough for me. I do not need to fear anything or anyone when I just listen and follow after my Savior, Redeemer, Master, Lover and Beloved of my soul.

FAR FROM PERFECT

A fren who "balik kampung" to her Penang hometown tells me the mall there was packed during CNY. Expected I guess. Personally I avoid shopping malls just before and during festive periods. I have long stopped buying new clothes for myself since years ago. I am still wearing stuff that's been in my wardrobe for more than 15 years. I count that as a compliment to myself, still being able to fit into them. So come every CNY, I just take out some "oldie" that still looks fine, fits fine and will do me fine. No, I am not superstitious about wearing old clothes, and no, I don't buy into the "must get new  things for new year" tradition.  As I don't fancy collecting more clothes which are just gonna pile up in the wardrobe anyway. Nor do I fancy "pusing-ing" round in the car, trying to find a parking spot in the mall.  Not to mention the Q's for (expensive) food, and lots of people everywhere I walk. That's not my idea of a good time.   

I had thought the mall wouldn't be so crowded after the official CNY holidays ended. So I decided to catch a movie on the 4th (working) day, to escape the heat of the house for a couple of hours . Well, I assumed wrong. Who would have 

thought there would be so many people in so many cars rounding the car park at such a late (230 pm) hour, looking for a spot. And for a weekday, the cinema hall which would normally be empty was actually quite full.  But I still managed to get a nice seat at the usual senior citizen discount to watch Rain Town. 

It's a Chinese language movie featuring a Chinese family living in Taiping,  well-known as the town with the highest rainfall in Msia. There was lots of Cantonese spoken, but there's the typical Msian "rojak" mix of English, Malay, and Tamil thrown in. Actually, with translated subtitles, the original language of a film doesn't really matter much to me. I remember my younger days I used to sit enraptured for hours by those handsome and beautiful Bollywood actors/actresses dancing around coconut trees and wat-not, to songs in Hindi. What caught my attention about Rain Town was that it's a Malaysian film, featuring Msian actors of all races, is written by Malays, produced and directed by Malays, and a woman at that. What do Malays know about Chinese stuff like feng shui, lanterns, rain-betting, bad luck, or mooncakes? Apparently quite a fair bit. I am suitably impressed. 

And it's not just films. On CNY eve I got a really nice clip of Sudirman's old-time fave Balik Kampung song sung in Mandarin, by a ....Malay guy. Add to that on CNY day itself, I got another clip of yet another Malay (this time lady) singing the very Chinese-y Gong Xi Gong Xi Nee song in perfect Mandarin. Woww, it's so koool... put me to shame, me Chinese dunno Chinese, and they Malay, so fluent. Like I told my Malay frens, I should be taking Chinese lessons from these folks.. 

Anyway back to the movie... the blip on Rain Town said to bring tissues. I did, and I did use them. The plot may be a bit simplistic and quite predictable. You just know what's gonna happen as it plays up the tense relationship between a very controlling father, his long-suffering Eurasian wife and 3 grown children. There's the (outwardly) obedient eldest son, the rebellious middle one and the insecure youngest girl. I think every family has one or other or all of the above, irrespective of racial or social background. 

And that's where the strength of the movie lies. The actors, both  main and peripheral as well as the young and old , drew out the pathos of family and societal relationships intertwined within tradition and culture of a "then" generation that carries over into the "now." The cinematography captured so well the  way of life in a small town - the scenes of a typical kopi-tiam, of men bringing out small stools to sit, gathering around to bet on when the rain would fall, apparently a fave past-time for those, like old man Choo, who has nothing better to do in Taiping. 

I dare say many parents have a way of imposing their expectations on their kids..all for their own good of course, as the patriarchal head of the Choo family keeps repeating the mantra to his brood. Like all oldies, he demands respect and obedience which are hall-marks of filial piety - a big thing in every culture I am sure. 

It's so typical that the father wants and insists the eldest son Isaac  be "the best doctor in Taiping", refusing to give rein to the young man's own desire to make music. I really liked the theme song revealing his inner turmoil; "..waiting for the skies to clear, but they never do...I'm just a droplet in an ocean full of expectations, here I'll drown in this rain town...." Indeed the poor soul was drowning in the stress of housemanship in a govt hospital. (Which is a real fact as reported in recent news media.) The scene where Isaac bursts out all his pent-up frustration in the car was so evocative, as he screams "I don't want to be a doctor", even as the younger brother confronts him about his lethal drug addiction. 

I like the handsome rebel Alex the most out of the 3 young characters. His portrayal of the black sheep of the family is complete with long hair,  lounging in the house as an unemployed "good-for-nothing" who rudely calls his father the old man. Rebellious to the extreme, he leaves home even in the face of his mom's and brother's crises. Yet it's his voice that speaks truth as he rails at his father, "You only care about your betting, your trophy family." As he tells his elder brother off.. "our life is ours, we have the power to make choices." Rightly, or wrongly, as turns out in his own case.

Likewise Ruby ,the youngest only daughter bottles up all her  resentment and anger against a father who derails her marriage plans, considering it his guardian duty to "vet" the prospective groom and finding him lacking, because he "has no money in his bank account...has no plans for the future." O, how typically Chinese, tho I dare say it's not confined to just Chinese. 

So many underlying currents of tension in a family that actually started out fine. As the mom says, "Life was so good then," evident from the old family photos on the wall.  She a beauty queen settled for a lantern-maker, because she was attracted to and wanted to be part of a family built on good solid culture and tradition which she lacked in her own. But it was that very culture/tradition that caused her husband to give up lanterns for a steady bank job. It's another of those very "Chinese" thinking of my days - if you can't be a doctor, engineer or accountant, get a bank job. Don't ever be a.... musician, (much less) a baker or whatever else you dream about.  It's to Mrs Aileen Choo's credit that she tries to talk sense into her "degil" husband to stop imposing his dreams onto their children, and be more accommodating to the family.  

But even the most patient saint has limits; so it is she explodes when he refuses to accompany her to hospital, on the grounds that such places bring bad luck. Ya, that's really what some people actually think. She explodes again when he calls in a feng-shui master, beautifully dressed in high heels and cheongsam, who straightaway suggests building this/that thing in this/that corner to balance out the negative energy. Well, at least the "expert" got that part spot on - who can't sense all that anger oozing out in every member of the family  must be dumb. I almost wanted to clap when dear old wifey literally shouted out the intruder. But I also wanted to cry when the old man tried to explain  he was just trying to help by warding off the bad luck of her cancer since he didn't know what else to do. For I too remember the shock and helplessness that overwhelmed me when I was informed of my husband's cancer. Fear makes people do (usually stupid) things. So much for following (usually useless??) culture and tradition.  

Yet I felt sorry for old man Choo; it wasn't that he didn't love his family. But he had allowed himself to become so shaped by traditional ways that he no longer knew how to think or respond with love. How tragic that we can become so blinded. I guess that's why crises happen in life. We all don't want "bad things" to happen, but it could be those very bad things that push us to be open to change what needs to be changed in our lives. So it is we see a broken husband at his wit's end entering the very hospital he is so superstitious to avoid, and just kneeling at a very sick wife's bedside, head bent low.  A position of love and surrender. We see a broken father as he faces a double-whammy of horrible consequences - his eldest son, the pride of the family, being wheeled into the same hospital, unconscious from a drug overdose. 

But there is always redemption, there's always hope. The one word that spoke volumes to me was Aileen's whisper "Forgive" to her husband from the hospital bed. That was all she could manage. Isn't it so true...Many things we need to forgive and be forgiven of. Many things we think we do right, we do good, but end up wrong, hurting and offending instead. And others also behave the same way towards us. 

But that 1 simple word opens up a different path. So we see old man Choo return to tinkering with his old lanterns. We see the reconciliation and healing of a dysfunctional family, coming back to love and be loved by each other. How fitting the finale song; which as I recall, went something like this ... "I am far from perfect, how could you love me... "  

Indeed, how could God Himself, the Most Holy and Perfect One, love such as us humans, full of imperfections... yet He does .. 

" but God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8) "... in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins" (Colossians 1:14)

THE BEST OF CHINESE NEW YEAR 2024

Whilst most Chinese would be sitting down to a hearty meal with family gathered around the table, it was just me and my one and only son eating left-overs on the eve of Chinese New Year 2024. I didn't even bother to cook rice, since he didn't want any. Straight after that, he was off to gym. Well, at least he stayed long enough to help wash up the dishes first; for which I am thankful. Even Maffin our cat has disappeared. So what's there left for an "old aunty" to do? Go to bed early of coz (and be woken up by loud fire-crackers at midnite.) 

Actually we had had our reunion dinner earlier - the night before the eve, as No 2 daughter was flying off overseas to join her husband for close to 3 weeks. This year we didn't join the typical  'balik kampung' exodus, since the relatives had met up at her wedding just about 2 months ago. Honestly, it can be  a real (literal) drag, braving the Chinese New Year traffic jam (which, as with all festivals in Msia,  isn't confined to any particular race) across highways to return to Kedah, where I was born. And I am very sure my now so-grown up children are more than happy to stay in KL; free to do their own thing. 

Somehow my family has never been the "jolly get-together" type. Maybe it comes from me growing up being the only adopted child of my uncle and aunt, raised up  alone and away from my other siblings. When I left my adopted parents in Penang to pursue university and stayed on in KL to work, I rarely went back. It's not for lack of love; I can only put it down to an independent spirit. I only started  my regular  "balik kampung" trips when I became a Christian. And even then it was after my husband's passing that I heard God's call to go back and say sorry to my family, for neglecting them all those years. I think my sisters must have been so surprised when I did precisely that. But praise God that broke the (unspoken) distance. I remember those days "lugging" my (then very young) family back together with my brother from KL, staying over in Alor Star for a couple of days. We would all troop to the local Chinese church there for CNY morning service and then do the usual rounds of visiting relatives, whom to this day I confess I don't know how to address properly. So to keep things simple, everybody was just aunty and uncle to my children. 

Well, now we no longer balik kampung every year and the children get to have their say. So it was, this year, it was just the 4 of us, their fave uncle and a fren, totaling 6, just nice to fit the dinner table in my house. I am not the traditional Chinese aunty. You won't find me putting up the usual decor of the season. I hasten to add that goes for Christmas as well. I don't bother much with the traditional "must do this, can't do that" customs, since I myself don't know much, being the "white banana" that I am.  Or as some term it OCBC - Orang Cina Bukan Cina. I don't take it as derogatory, just a fact that's true of me at least. 

This year, I  thought I would try out some new recipes for a change. Whilst it didn't turn out disastrous, it wasn't exactly up to mark . The fish was over-done because I was trying to multi-task, juggling between the wok, the oven and the thermal pot. The oven decided to act up after not being used for quite awhile; it took double the time to roast the chicken, which turned out quite bland. The prawns were much too salty; not the recipe's fault, but mine, as I discovered too late I hadn't put in enough liquid to cook. Well, at least the old-time fave - jiu hoo char - turned out ok. I had actually cooked it the day before, as I knew it would be too tiring for me to handle at the same time with the other stuff.  Anyway, this veg dish always tastes better after a day or two . Heck, I even forgot to get cordial drinks. Age is really catching up on me. But everyone was so gracious. They were ok with plain water. And actually most of the dishes got polished off in the end. So that was our small pre-reunion dinner. 

The next morning as I was going out for my usual cycle round the neighborhood, I accidentally hit the orchid pot placed near the house pillar.  It fell and broke. I went like, oh no, this was part of my no 2 daughter's engagement gift from the in-laws, given almost a year ago. But as I sat down later to re-pot the plant, it struck me actually it's a good thing. For now out of 1 big pot, I got to multiply the plant into 3 small pots. And I discovered why it wasn't growing much in the big pot...because for some peculiar reason, the individual plants were  wrapped in plastic, maybe  to fit into the confined space. I would never have known that if the pot didn't break. Now I could "free" the plants by cutting off the plastic wrap, and letting them "breathe" properly. The cost - a big and really rather pretty pot had to be broken.  

Therein lies the spiritual lesson -  it's not just orchid plants, but really humans also need to be "broken " so as to be set totally free to grow properly. But the problem is no one wants to pay the price - to go through the pain of being broken, for we all want to be happy happy all the time. We run after blessings and miracles instead of chasing the God who blesses, Jesus Christ, the Miracle-Worker. Or we choose to remain in our own "pretty pot" of self accomplishment, wrapped tight in the cocoon of our own clever presumptions about the meaning of life and death, the relevance or irrelevance of God.  

The lesson was driven home even deeper for me when we visited my sister and brother in law in KL on the first day of Chinese New Year morning. They invited us to stay for lunch. Much as I wanted to, I couldn't as I was scheduled to share at the weekly KL street-work I am involved in. Indeed I missed a very good lunch and family fellowship. But it turned out very worthwhile. 

Apparently many of our street frens had gone to other places which gave out angpows, so contrary to expectations, there wasn't any crowd at this street-feeding session. (I guess money talks louder than God??) But for me, it didn't matter how many or how few turned up. At least for the 7 who came, who may not have a home, or who can't/don't want to balik kampung to family for whatever reason, they now know there's a very special place where we can all find rest, peace and freedom on earth and in heaven, now and forever more. And it's not in any family house or religious institution. It's a safe place where I know I stand forgiven of all my sin thru the death of Christ. It's a safe place in the midst of this often chaotic and dangerous world we live in. It's a  place that's already been promised and prepared by Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, the Lover and Savior of our souls, for all who would just believe and receive. Nothing beats that. 

I think that's the best part of CNY 2024 for me -  Knowing without the shadow of a doubt, God has given me awesome blessings more valuable  than any angpow, more satisfying than any fancy fantastic meal, more wonderful than any great family reunion, (which is all well and good)  and being able to tell others they can have it all too. Indeed I can never lose with God, as I found out when I got back to an empty house. My son messages me to say his girl-fren's mom had given lots of food for our dinner. So I don't even need to wonder what to cook for just two of us. Such is the faithfulness of a God who says those who seek Him lack no good thing.  

"Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto Myself; that where I am, there ye may be also."...John 14:1-3