3 years later

The pandemic has come to its endemic stage.

Life has returned almost to what it once was, but not quite.

I have learned to count my blessings and be thankful.

Married to Ernest, two kids, roof over our heads, food in our bellies, family we are connected and near to, work that pays the bills and also allows us to serve God and others, strength for each day, friends we get to journey and grow with, and so much more.

But I still believe there is more to be done, more in store, more to come.

And as we prayed during the 40 days fast and prayer by NECF as well as for Alpha Course which our church is running, God has been opening my heart and life to encounter others whose lives have gone through so much, who have had so much pain and brokenness. And as I hear their stories and sharings, it breaks me and makes me want to help them, but in my own limits and even love, I felt so overwhelmed. I did not know what to do or how to respond, but I knew it was not me but Jesus Christ who would be the answer to them; every question, every "why?", every need.

May every brokenness point us to the only one who can heal and restore. 

disconnected writing

Times have changed. Blogs are not as popular as they used to be. Well, at least that is the case in my circle. Save for a few who still write, they too use other platforms like Facebook, Twitter and Instagram to share their blog posts and writings.

People want things fast now. People are more visual - a picture paints a thousand words. If there's a video, even better. If you make it concise, that would be superb. That's why tiktok is so popular among the young. Do not be fooled by the few seconds that video presents, the hours that go on behind it - conceptualizing, filming, editing. Just for the likes, for the shares, for it to go viral.

They are works of art in their own sense. Just like writing, it is a form of self-expression. A point of view, an opinion.

So here I am, writing again. Writing because I need to self-express. Writing because I feel the need to create. Writing because it has been so long. Writing because I have an opinion.

I don't want to share everything with everyone. I don't want to share my pictures or my videos but when I scroll through my feeds, that is what others are doing and honestly, I tend to compare. I see and I compare my life with theirs - it makes me feel inadequate, dissatisfied, sometimes jealous.

But I know that's not their intention, it is their self-expression. It is how they document life. It is how they share with their loved ones especially so in this time of being apart. And I get to be a part of it even though I am not close to them, it makes me feel like I know them, that I am a part of their life. And so I rejoice, I am happy for them, I pray for their best and I pray for them when they share their struggles.

What's the point of me writing here? I don't know, I just wanted to write. Even if it doesn't flow, even if it isn't organized. Even if there isn't much of a point to make. I just wanted to share.

Loving Him with my All - Whenever and Wherever

Ku mahu cinta Yesus selamanya

Ku mahu cinta Yesus selamanya

Meskipun badai silih berganti dalam hidupku

Ku tetap cinta Yesus selamanya

Ya Abba Bapa

Ini aku anakMu

Layakkanlah seluruh hidupku

Ya Abba Bapa

Ini aku anakMu

Pakailah sesuai dengan recanaMu

I've been singing this song to Lukas the past few nights as I put him to sleep. But this morning as we sang it during worship in church, it brought tears to my eyes and my heart yearned for God and to love God wholeheartedly.

I had not been loving God as I should this past year.

That was a painful and scary confession to make and as I reflect on it, it is such a serious yet hidden issue. For who knows the thoughts of our hearts but God alone. 

We are now beginning the month of December. Another year is coming to its end again and it often puts me in a reflective mood as I look back at the year.

This year was a year full of transitions for me. Coming back to PJ from Semporna, becoming a mother, teaching in a new school, adapting to our families. 

Coming back from Semporna had so many aspects to it. I honestly struggled and don't think I transitioned well through the changes. It came suddenly yet also expectedly. It came with both joy and sorrow. It came with a heavy heart yet also relief. It's hard to explain, it was hard to say goodbye. 

I didn't really have time to process it with everything happening so rapidly, one thing after another - coming back on a Saturday, I began work at my new school on Monday, about a month plus later, I delivered Lukas and had to learn to become a mom, a steep learning curve and a whole new experience. It was a blessing to have my family to help me through that. Then when I thought I was getting a hang of it, maternity leave ended and it was back to school. I thank God for Christian believers that He used to encourage and help me along the way. But I often felt tired and lost at the end of most days. And without realising days, weeks, months pass.

You look back and you wonder where did the time go. You look back and you know that God was always present because it was His grace you were able to go through all that. 

But I also look back and I know that I was really bitter and hurting at times. I look back and I know that I struggled to love God and others. I look back and I know that I became rather selfish and self-centered along the way. I look back and I repent.

Meskipun badai silih berganti dalam hidupku...

Ku tetap cinta Yesus selamanya.

Though the seasons change in my life,

I will still love Jesus always.

That's why the song's lyrics cut deep because I know that as the seasons changed, I was bitter and upset at God. I may have even blamed Him and I never resolved the issue. But I must not live in the past, I must not live upon "what if's", I need to live in the present, in this particular season, time, and place and love God with all my heart, with all my mind, with all my soul and with all my strength. 

I love You, Lord.
Forgive me when my love wavers.

Help me to love you with everything I am. 

grace and second chances

We're all essentially bad people. Broken and bad.

And that's why we need a saviour. Someone to redeem us from this deprave state.

But sometimes, we kind of keep things "under control" and we're able to keep our badness to a minimal so that people don't really see it. We sometimes even succeed in making people think, "she's good." Or worse still, we start to think of ourselves, "Hey, I'm not that bad, I must be kinda good."

But we're still essentially bad.

And then out of the blue, out of our controlled character, we do something bad. And everyone sees, and everyone knows. Because like I said, we are essentially - bad.

We say our million and one apologies, try to make things better, wish we could turn back time, regret it over and over again, cringe when we think about it, but nothing really erases what's been done or said.

And that's when the beauty of grace comes sweeping in. When we know we are bad and we do not deserve second chances, when we know we messed up and cannot save ourselves. God comes in. Comes in and gives grace, a second chance to live again.

This grace, did not just appear from thin air. It was given freely to us but at a great cost for the Giver. God, the Giver, gave His one and only Son, Jesus Christ, to die and pay for the due price of our sins that we may be redeemed from our wrongs. Clothing us in His righteousness, God now sees us as good.

And so, despite me being essentially bad and though as long as I'm here on earth, I am still imperfect, I am able to live because of His grace. That is why I try to live unto him, to be more and more like Christ, not because I want to hide my badness (I cannot), but because I understand what grace does. It saves me when I cannot save myself.

This doesn't mean I've got a "GET OUT OF JAIL FREE" card or that I can go on being bad. No, that would be contempt and pride towards God because remember, a price was paid. A price so great, we would not be able to bear it. It should have been me, but Christ took my place.




\\Reflections after Danum Valley (14-16 Oct).

her room

She knocks on the door. No one answers. It's a place she's not been to for quite some time now. She turns the knob and the door creaks open. It's dark and musty smelling inside. "Hello?" she says. "Is anybody here?" She feels the wall for a switch, she remembers there was one for the lights, somewhere. 

*click*

And the room illuminates. Brightly lit, lights that shine. She sees rows and rows of shelves, full of files and folders of ideas. Bits and pieces here and there, some complete, most are not. She looks through some and smiles, remembering the events and experiences that inspired those pieces. She had forgotten so much but when she read, she remembered. 

She loved to write. Words were her favourite tool. Her weapon and instrument which she used to practice so often. She was not much of a speaker, her ideas took time to flow and form. Speakers usually speak before they think and their train of thoughts move fast and fleet. Hers was more of a million fragmented jewel pieces, that needed time to be put together. But when she finally did piece them together, she always felt satisfied with how they sparkled. 

She used to keep bits and pieces of jewels she found in this room. Collecting, polishing, and storing away in hopeful anticipation of using them one day. She used to come in here a few times a day, perusing the files in shelves and putting new things in. Sometimes, she brought her work out and showed it to people whom she loved,

However, as she grew older and went through different phases in life. She did not go to the room so often anymore. Sometimes the absence was for just a season and an inspiration would pull her back to the room to work on something. But as she began her job, she went there much lesser. She was tired, busy, caught up. She didn't have time and energy to visit the room. In the end, she stopped going there. 

Until one night, when she suddenly thought, "I loved to write. What happened?" She wondered  about the room and if her jewels were still there. And so she went back to the room, her room. 

--

And here she is, putting together another piece of fragmented jewels in hopes that she will not forget how much she loves to write.