The Black Diary`with words written in silver ink.

Three Trees

2011-10-03T19:07:00.000+08:00

Once there were three trees on a hill in the woods. They were discussing their hopes and dreams when the first tree said, "Someday I hope to be a treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver and precious gems. could be decorated with intricate carving and everyone would see the beauty." Then the second tree said, "Someday I will be a mighty ship. I will take kings and queens across the waters and sail to the corners of the world. Everyone will feel safe in me because of the strength of my hull." Finally the third tree said, "I want to grow to be the tallest and straightest tree in the forest. People will see me on top of the hill and look up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God and how close to them I am reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time and people will always remember me."

After a few years of praying that their dreams would come true, a group of woodsmen came upon the trees. When one came to the first tree he said, "This looks like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell the wood to a carpenter" ... and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy, because he knew that the carpenter would make him into a treasure chest. At the second tree a woodsman said, "This looks like a strong tree, I should be able to sell it to the shipyard." The second tree was happy because he knew he was on his way to becoming a mighty ship. When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, the tree was frightened because he knew that if they cut him down his dreams would not come true. One of the woodsmen said, "I don't need anything special from my tree so I'll take this one", and he cut it down."

When the first tree arrived at the carpenters, he was made into a feed box for animals. He was then placed in a barn and filled with hay. This was not at all what he had prayed for. The second tree was cut and made into a small fishing boat. His dreams of being a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an end. The third tree was cut into large pieces and left alone in the dark.

The years went by, and the trees forgot about their dreams. Then one day, a man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth and they placed the baby in the hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree. The man wished that he could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger would have to do. The tree could feel the importance of this event and knew that it had held the greatest treasure of all time.

Years later, a group of men got in the fishing boat made from the second tree. One of them was tired and went to sleep. While they were out on the water, a great storm arose and the tree didn't think it was strong enough to keep the men safe. The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and said "Peace" and the storm stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had carried the King of Kings in its boat.

Finally, someone came and got the third tree. It was carried through the streets as the people mocked the man who was carrying it. When they came to a stop, the man was nailed to the tree and raised in the air to die at the top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to realize that it was strong enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close to God as was possible, because Jesus had been crucified on it.

The moral of this story is that when things don't seem to be going your way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you place your trust in Him, He will give you great gifts. Each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they had imagined. We don't always know what God's plans are for us. We just know that His ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best.

Nighttime Wonders

2011-02-01T12:17:00.006+08:00

Lemon on a midnight canvas

Drawn a halo 'round itself

Beyond which lain diamonds scattered

No one's to claim, none to follow

The Gloom of Thunderstorms

2010-03-08T09:37:00.002+08:00

Like thirsty trees, I welcome this thunderstorm. The floods drown my thoughts, with the rains washing over me, filling that deafening silence which speaks of an emptiness I cannot bear to face. Nature's rock music quells that rising panic that comes with that deafening silence. Yet no matter how much rain pours, and how much hail falls, memories, Truth and reality cannot be erased or washed off. Some say the skies cry; to me it's more like a blanket of comfort and a place to hide. It shelters from the sun, from that sparkling light that reveals all that is plain to see. I hide, behind this pseudo-tent that barricades me from the prying eyes of this Earth, and from my own. I cannot match the energy sunshine brings, only the passivity of the gloom that thunderstorms provide.

For the Taking

2010-03-07T14:59:00.002+08:00

the world's mine oyster, which I with sword will open

The Merry Wives of Windsor Act 2, Scene 2, 2-5
William Shakespeare

My Prayer

2010-03-04T21:16:00.002+08:00

My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I cannot see the road ahead of me.
I do not know for certain where it would end.
I do not know myself.
I want to follow Your will but I do not.
Even when I think I am following Your will, does not mean I actually am.
However I do believe that the desire to please You does actually please You,
and I hope that I will not act apart from this desire.
If I do this I hope You will lead me by the right road,
even though I do not know the end.
This I will always trust even when I am lost and in the shadow of Death.
I will not fear for You are with me and will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Amen.

adapted from 'A Prayer' from Thomas Merton

The Letter

2009-08-08T19:10:00.007+08:00

I've been here for a few years now, to pursue my dreams and to live my life as a normal person should. The first few months were extremely hard, and truth to tell, I am still adjusting. When I first arrived, I had nothing with me but my few spare garments. I knew no one and not a clue on where to seek help. Realising desperation, I sat down to pray, and a few kind-hearted souls threw a few coins at me. That empty feeling in my abdomen told me I was hungry, and so I went into a shop and traded my coins for bread.

This went on for 2 weeks. By then, my clothes were soiled and my dreams were nowhere in sight. So I sat down to pray again, and I saw a poster: Poverty Foundation - Aid to the Homeless & Unemployed. I took my cue and went in search of that place, which happened to be nearby. With no strings attached (ie no family problems, no history of violence, alcoholism and abuse) and with a 'refugee' status, the Foundation worked a miracle on earth and found me a job, as well as providing shelter until my income could sustain me. This was how I got my job at Olivo's Bakery.

At the Foundation, it was a happy and yet depressing place. The staff there taught me how to budget my funds, so that I would be able to survive and spend wisely when I moved out of there. They gave me meals, of which I never took much, but left more for my friends who seemed to need more than me. Friends! They were my first. The time we spent together was short, for I had worked hard and saved a lot to move out. I still remember those days when we had to grab blankets and sleep out in the lounge on stormy nights, for our bedroom ceilings were leaking. No one got much sleep, but we exchanged stories and had each other's company. They always marvelled at my peaceful nature, for they came from hard and bitter lands and were constantly stressed about their living. I gave them what I could - my compassion, peace and blessings. I would never know the sort of impact I had on them, but their impact on me was profound. I deeply felt their weariness, their troubled hearts and their burden, and I never forgot that sort of depression that had caught on even though I was free of worries of my own.

With the help of the Foundation, I rented a small studio apartment at the public housing, and moved out after bading farewell to my friends. I continued my job at the bakery, and perhaps due to my diligence and peaceful nature, Mrs Olivo took pity on me. She raised my pay, saying I brought in more customers, and gave me the leftovers of the day to bring home. Having never needed to eat much, I saved quite a bit, and had plans to enter a part-time course in pattiserie. And then I met you.

You were that man who walked past the bakery just before the morning crowd to grab a coffee from the cafe next door. I had always noticed you, because even though you were not my customer, you were always nearly alone on the streets, before the morning crowd hit. I always noticed you, because unlike everyone else in that morning working crowd, you did not seem to dread the work ahead of you. You were always carefree and eager to receive your cup of coffee. Yes I noticed you, and wondered why you were different.

And then one morning, you walked in to Olivo's. Curiosity touched my mind, and I went over to serve you. From then on, conversation started, and we went out, and before we knew it, we were in a relationship. I was right about you from my first impressions. You were carefree even though you had full of things to do, and your job kept you busy. You had true and sincere friends, for whom you were always there when they needed you. You treated everyone with respect, especially me. Though you were an morally upright person, you also had plenty of compassion. I cannot begin to describe how deeply I fell for you, and God knows what it was that I had, but you felt the same way for me as well. Soon, we were living together. And life progressed from being peaceful to blissful. Before I knew it, I had sold my soul to you.

Perhaps the start of all our troubles began with my worship of you. No man was meant to worship anything else but God, and I made that deadly mistake of idolising you. It was no fault of yours; you can't help being that perfect person you are. Even I had not begun to realise it until things fell apart.

Though I maintained my job at the pattisserie, I was often distracted and gradually put no enthusiasm in to my work, for I was eager to get home to you, and unwilling to be separate from you at all. Things escalated, and soon I was facing a kind yet stern warning from Mrs Olivo's to 'buck up' my work. Honestly I tried, and things did pick up a bit, though never to the same person I was before. I told myself I was happy, but deep down I subconsciously knew that it wasn't just my work woes that put me in discontentment. Perhaps that was why I picked up that application form and signed up for that pattisserie part-time course. You were very supportive, as usual, and I ought to be have been happy about that, but I was not content with your reaction. I would be very busy studying, and perhaps I wanted you to be possessive over me, to want to spend more time with me. And it was the same when you went out with your friends, which was getting far and few between. I was moody when you went out, and yet I never wanted to join you on your social gatherings.

This has gone on for a while, and you know it. Thank God, I finally saw the whole picture, on the night when I threw a fit and dashed out of the house, just so you would be worried. I was running, and you were looking for me, when I met my old friend John, from the Foundation. I called out to him, and he hardly recognised me. The first words he said were, "What happened to you?"
I could not think of an answer, and tried unsuccessfully onto other topics of conversation. Soon, we baded each other goodbye, and I walked away. Slowly, realisation crept it. I could not talk to him. I could no longer communicate. I was no longer at peace, neither had I the compassion and interest to want to interact. I was self-centered, and I was lost.

Coming here hasn't been easy. I remembered my first train ride, and the first time I flew on a plane. I had wondered why it took so long to travel.

I cannot find myself, and my loss of direction is weighing you down. I do not want you to become like my first friends were - poor in spirit, with a house but no peaceful home to return to, and earning income that can never buy you happiness. I want you to find yourself, the person you were when I first met you - carefree and rich in joys and peace.

So I am leaving to where I came from, to give you the space to find yourself. I have tasted the life of a normal human being. You may argue that I have not fulfilled my dreams; afterall I never made it to baking school. But my dream was to love. True, I have not perfected the art of living or the art of loving unconditionally, but I have tasted both. I would have liked to remain longer to master both life and love, but I would no longer risk the consequences with you. It is time to go. As with my arrival, so would my departure, be for love.

When you return to this house, you will no longer find any trace of me. Everything that I have had will be gone. Check the drawers, the cupboards, and even the trash - you will not find anything that belonged to or were used by me. Talk to your friends, and you will find that they will not remember me. They will not have it in their memories that you were attached, and to them you will always be what they knew you as. It's your chance to continue from where you left off before I came into your life. Do not bother looking for me, for I cannot be found. I'm sorry that this is perhaps cruel, but all you will have left is this letter and your memories of me, no matter how hard you try. To your anguish, even your memories will fade, and in the future, you will only remember me and the life we shared as a dream. Without knowing why, you will remember that you should never give your soul away, to anybody or to anything.

I hope this dream has been beautiful.

Keeping your love,
Your Angel

If Life Is A Drive

2009-04-12T19:54:00.007+08:00

If you can drive a car, or any another vehicle, do you remember what it was like taking lessons?

You first learn about how your car works (where the indicators are, how the clutch works), how to drive it, then about the rules and regulations of the road. You learn different driving maneuvers like doing parallel parks, turning right at intersections, hook turns (Melbourne roads), and if you were lucky enough, your instructor would advise you on how to drive in different road situations.

The first few times you touch the wheel, stepped on the clutch and attempted to rev and hit the friction point, more often that not, you stall. It takes a few tries learning how to get the car moving. After you do, it's hard to believe you finally have control of the wheel. There are times when you feel like you're the safest driver ever - never speeding, stopping right at the red light etc. There are times when your instructor is always shouting at you because you never indicated, never changed gears, or for some reason, hopeless at parallel parks. Sometimes these mistakes arise because you did not know what to, or could not multi-task enough to do everything required at that split second; sometimes you just cannot be bothered.

And the more we drive, the more we cannot be bothered. We get so comfortable being on the road such that we forget to be safe. We forget we have to follow the rules for a reason.

Are you that sort of a driver?

Some are reckless drivers, some are extremely safe. Some fall asleep at the wheel, and some are always uptight and tense. There are times when you obey the traffic rules, yet there are also times when you get impatient and dash through the amber and the zebra crossings without giving way to the pedestrian waiting to cross. After all, your aim is to get to your destination safely in the fastest manner possible.

But what if the whole point of driving was not about reaching your destination or the route that you took? What if it was about how you drove?

Life, and its many other things, is a Drive.

Some started learning how to drive once past the age limit, and others not well into the ages. No matter when you touched the wheel of Life, stepped on its clutch and took control of it, no matter when your Independence Day was, you learnt how to make jokes, when to keep your mouth shut, when to be (or act) sympathetic, understanding etc. You learn the names of people just like your road names. You learn how to act in different situations.

In the first few years of teenage/adult life, you often stall. You make mistakes in social protocol, you are quiet, shy, and often ostracized. But you finally get your car moving after a few tries. And suddenly, you have a life going. Sometimes you feel you're doing everything right - disciplined in studies, understanding and fun as a friend, obedient to your parents, and focused in everything you do. Sometimes you feel as though you're making all the mistakes in the world - lazy at work, taking your friends and family for granted, basically being altogether selfish and wondering why everything is going wrong. These mistakes sometimes arise because you have too many on your mind and tend to protect your own interests and forget to think for others, or sometimes simply because you cannot be bothered.

And the more we drive, the older we grow, the more self-centered and un-bothered we become. It becomes less easy to trust, and more easy to think of ourselves and forget others. We wonder why we crash, why our friends leave us, why our family members become estranged from us. Sometimes it's beyond our control (car behind hit me for no rhyme or reason), but more often that not, we forget we have to be kind for a simple reason: so that it would be easier for others to be kind to us.

So what sort of driver are you?

Are you the reckless driver that has become so jaded to this dog-eat-dog world that you have forgotten what kindness and trust meant? Are you the person that fell asleep behind the wheel, so tired that you've lost all motivation? Or are you always uptight and tense about doing the right thing, such that you fail to enjoy your drive? More often that not, we're a bit of everything: obeying the rules at times and being gracious to people around us, being the bitchy one who can't be bothered about anybody else, or basically just protecting our self interest. After all, your aim is get where you want to be in the fastest way possible.

But what if the whole point of Life was not about the route you took, but how you took it? What if how you drove your Life determined where you ended up?

It's not about what you decided to do as a living nor the route you take. You could be a priest or a doctor or a tax collector. It's about what you did to others as a tax collector that determines where your final destination would be.

If Life was a Drive, how are you driving it?

The Lord Made Them All

2009-01-13T21:33:00.002+08:00

All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
All things wise and wonderful
The Lord God made them all

Cecil Francis Alexander

Love

2008-12-07T16:22:00.002+08:00

When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No... don't blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? But it is!

Anonymous

Three Dollars Worth Of God

2008-09-22T19:08:00.001+08:00

I would like to buy three dollars worth of God, please. Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just enough of Him to equal a cup of warm milk or a snooze in the sunshine. I don't want enough of Him to make me love a black man or pick beets with a migrant. I want ecstasy, not transformation. I want the warmth of the womb, not a new birth. I want a pound of the Eternal in a paper sack, please. I would like to buy three dollars worth of God, please.

Wilbur Reese

The Prayer of The Little Prince

2008-03-13T22:11:00.001+08:00

The Little Prince
Prayed to the Lord for help

My rose wounds me
Those thorns of hers pierce me through
Too long have they grown
Too long have I left them unkempt
Pruning hurts her
and I have no wish to wound her
but now I am pierced
Leave her I will not

Just do me a favour
Draw these thorns out
And heal me for now
The thorns will grow again
But just heal me for now

The Lord heard
And listened
The thorns He pulled out
The pain He removed
Even as the green shoots budded out menacingly

He did not stop there
But offered His Word

My people wounded me
Those thorns and nails of hers pierced me through
Too long have they sinned
Too long have they been in distress
Death hurts her
and I have no wish to see her without life
So now I have to be pierced
because leave her I will not
Die in her stead I will

Just do me a favour
Love your rose
And prune out her thorns
I will heal you
I will heal her
Those thorns will grow again
but come to me
I will prune and heal you both

Dying is painful
but resurrection is always preceded by death
Come to me
And I will bring you Life

Old and Bright

2008-02-07T01:39:00.000+08:00

Stars above
I reminisce
Days long past

Yet younger
I feel
Not vice versa

Student days are childhood years
Days of maturity are student years
The rest are yet to come

They will
And still
I will feel

Aging days are matured years
Days of wisdom
Childhood years

Riches

2007-09-08T18:47:00.000+08:00

Habour in your hearts:
Serenity to accept things you cannot change
Courage to change the things you can,
and Wisdom to know the difference.

Inevitably, change is the only constant. There is no good or bad about it. It might appear to negative, but there's usually always something good or valuable to be derived of it. Something is always left to be thankful about: at least you're alive. Think of it that whatever you have, has had been given to you - by God, or by the people around you. What you possess, your gifts, may have changed, but certainly not your riches.

Enough

2007-08-28T08:34:00.000+08:00

May your joys be as bright as the morning,
And your sorrows merely be shadows that fade,
In the sunlight of love.
May you have enough
happiness to keep you sweet.
Enough trials to keep you strong.
Enough sorrows to keep you human.
Enough hope to keep you happy.
Enough failure to keep you humble.
Enough success to keep you eager.
Enough friends to give you comfort.
Enough faith and courage in yourself to banish sadness.
Enough wealth to meet your needs.
And one thing more:
enough determination to make each day a more wonderful day
than the day before.

An Irish Blessing

2007-08-19T07:38:00.000+08:00

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sunshine warm upon your face, the rains fall soft upon your fields and,
until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Stage Lights

2007-08-05T16:46:00.001+08:00

The sun shone glaringly at the top right hand corner of my window, almost blinding me with spots as I sat at my desk typing away. I drew the blinds and continued with my work. Darkness in my room came soon after, as if someone used the Deluminator that Dumbledore left to Ron in his will to switch off world's lights. I drew the blinds back up again, to tempt in whatever remaining light that was left, only to find the last glories of the sun stretching out over the horizon in a bid to say goodbye. The sky seemed to part, to capture those rays of joy that I delight in. I turned away for a few minutes, and back, and saw that the sun had bowed out of the stage, and the curtains of the theatre had fluttered its red and announced the end of that day's show - that day itself. I thought that surely that must be the end of the show, but I was wrong. The people had left, and the curtains were drawn open, leaving behind the empty stage. The stage was illuminated, but the audience seats were in darkness. That bright streak of yellow, those dark looming clouds, and the darkness slowly creeping in to switch off the stage lights - that scene, reminded me of my yellow tourmaline ring. That brightness, in the midst of darkness, when all other glories seemed to have appeared and set the benchmark, came last, quietly and selflessly, and showed its beauty in its most humble way.

From A Loving Perspective

2007-06-22T23:56:00.000+08:00

A girl was bored playing on her own one day, so she tried asking her mother to play with her.
"Not now girl, Mummy is tired."
She then tried asking her father.
"Why don't you go play on your own or watch some cartoons?"
The girl sat down and thought to herself: When I grow up, and become a mother myself, I will always play with my children whenever they ask me to.

Meanwhile, the girl's grandmother fell ill, and they went to visit her. The girl sat there, listening to the adults talk. She heard her parents persuading her grandma to see a doctor, and not to delay any further, but her grandmother would just refuse with a "No need for that, it's not that serious." She could not understand why her grandmother was so adamant about not going.

Years later, that girl did grow up, and had children of her own. Her grandmother was still alive, but was in ill health, and had to undergo therapy everyday. On one of those days, she had accompanied her grandma to the therapy session, and they had just reached home. Her grandmother took out her key and fumbled with the lock for many minutes, still unable to open it, all the while mumbling on how after living so many years in this house, she still had problems with the lock. The girl, now a grown woman, took the key from her, examined the lock and opened it, commenting that the lock had spoilt, for the catch in it was a little rusty. A harsh snap came from her grandmother ("No it isn't!"), who snatched the key back and proceeded to enter the house. Tears stung the girl's eyes, who did not expect that. She returned to her own home a little sad.

When she reached home, she sat down and tried to comprehend. Her little girl, seeing that her mummy was not doing anything, came up to ask if she would like to play. Her mother responded tiredly, "Not today, I'm tired." She watched her girl turn away, and the little girl, not knowing what else to do, sat down in the garden porch to watch the birds.

Her heart was wrung, as memories evoked from her childhood reminded her of the familiarity of that scene. She thought of her own disappointment as a child, and saw the situation from a child's point of view. She recalled her own reasons now, and felt how her mother might have felt that many years ago. Feeling guilty for turning her daughter away when she had been in that same situation, she loved her child more. Regretting that she was too young to understand her own mother's feelings at that time, she loved her mum more.

With love in her heart, she put herself in her grandmother's shoes, and saw and felt the hurt in her grandma's pride. She thought about how difficult it must be, for a matron that supported a home in its domestic affairs for more than forty years, to not even be able to open the door of that house. She finally understood why that many years ago, her grandmother would refuse to see a doctor.

Pride is the keyword here. As a woman grows older and wiser in the ways of this world, her seniority increases. Her 'juniors' might be more capable in terms of earning money, being technologically savvy, but as a woman, her house is her domain. How wounded would her dignity be, when one day she, as head of her household, fumble at that lock which she had been so trained to opening, to have her grandchild outdo her and still comment that something in her house is broken? What a stab to a person's pride.

Now, feeling the pain in her heart for not being sensitive enough, she loved her grandma more, and vowed always to be senstive to the needs of others, to put herself in their shoes, and to see from their point of view and perspective. For she knew, that no matter what their needs or demands are, how they might sometimes hurt her, how they look like etc, she would always love them.

Her heart was filled with even more love now, and she realised one more thing. This love was not only for others around her, but also for herself.

Love for others leads to love for yourself, for love does not distinguish.

Angels In Heaven, Bride Of The Lamb

2007-06-07T14:24:00.000+08:00

"God of Sex"
The Lord is God of the living, not of the dead. He is a God of life. We humans aspire to become gods, as it says in the Book of Genesis. This is the very lie that Satan told Eve: If you do this, you will be as gods. You will know what is right and what is wrong. Eve ate of the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, because she wanted to determine what was right and what was wrong, and that brought death into the world. We are still eating of that fruit today; we are still bringing death into the world. We have become gods indeed - gods of death.

We become gods of death when we assume we have the right to take away another person’s life, or even our own. We do this when we murder, yes, when we kill, yes, but we also do this when we engage or support mercy killing, termination of pregnancies, capital punishment, human embryonic stem cell research, and human cloning.

We set ourselves up to be gods of death, but we are not real gods. If we were real gods with the power over death, we could prevent death from happening to someone living. And we are not gods of life either, because if we were, we could give life to those that are dead. We don’t have that kind of power, but the Lord does. He has the power to raise people from the dead. Truly he is God of the living. We only have power to bring about death. Small wonder then that Pope John Paul II calls this the culture of death.

Directly related to the culture of death is how we view sex and love. Is there anybody reading this who can claim that he or she would be alive now if it weren’t for sex? Anyone? No. Because if it weren’t for sex, we wouldn’t be alive. The reason that sex plays such an important role in all of our lives is because sex is directly linked to life. It is where life begins. And this is sacred, because the Lord is God of life. He is literally the God of sex. He made it!

Why did God make sex? Why did God make men and women? We see a fraction of the explanation in today’s gospel reading. Jesus tells us that when we rise from the dead, there will be no marriage. We will all be like the angels in heaven. The angels in heaven were created to be with God for all eternity. So are we humans, through a different path. We are created to be with God for all eternity. That is our purpose. While we are alive in the world, we retain that purpose and we have desires. We desire not to be alone, so we seek out someone to be with, for the rest of our lives. We marry them.

This marriage reflects the reality that we are being prepared for - the reality of being with God for all eternity. That is why when we are raised from the dead, there will be no more marriage - because we will be married to God. We the Church, are the bride of the Lamb, as it says in the Book of Revelations.

The basic unit of society is the family. A family is formed when a couple has kids. A couple has kids by having sex. Now if Someone wanted to destroy human beings and their chance for happiness, where would this Someone attack? We only need to look at what is being most profaned today to realise that this Someone has already been attacking us. This Someone has been destroying the meaning of sex (through contraception), the meaning of marriage (through divorce), the meaning of family (through homosexual unions). What do you think is next to fall?

Pope John Paul II, in The Gospel of Life, tells us, “It is an illusion to think that we can build a true culture of human life if we do not… accept and experience sexuality and love and the whole of life according to their true meaning and their close inter-connection.” (The Gospel of Life, 97)

Indeed, if the Lord is truly our God, then we too must be on the side of life; we must be pro-life. All Catholics, all Christians in fact, are bound by Christ to be pro-life. That is why politicians who support abortion are not in full communion with the Church and the Lord, because the Lord is God of the living, not of the dead.

Catholic Writer

Stand Still

2007-06-05T12:12:00.000+08:00

Sometimes life comes to a standstill, and you wonder what the hell you are doing where you are now. Life isn't exactly stagnant, just so routine and tiring that you see no meaning in what you do. Then you begin to think back and consider the factors that brought you to this stage of life, whether the decisions you made were correct, if they were reckless, and if you should turn back. When you realise that turning back is not an option, but can't seem to see any road ahead of you, you feel trapped. Trapped - a loss of freedom, bound by the restrictions and limitations set by the rest of the world.

Then God said, "[N]ow you are sad, but I will see you again, and your hearts will be filled with gladness, the kind of gladness that no one can take away from you. When that day comes, you will not ask me for anything. I am telling you the truth: the Father will give you whatever you ask of him in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name; ask and you will receive, so that your happiness may be complete." (John 16: 22-24)

So I asked God, "What do I do now? What do I need? I've asked for so many things but none of them seem to come. Tell me what I should ask you for. I've asked for humility, for the right judgement, for forgiveness, to forgive, for discipline, for love... What exactly do I need to ask from you to fill what I lack?"

Then I remembered that morning's bible sharing, on what I shared. I chose the sentence 'he will lead you into all the truth' (John 16:13), and talked about how we should always turn to the Holy Spirit for answers, because He comes from God and will tell us what we need to know.

So that was the answer. The Holy Spirit is what I need, because He is the answer to everything. I need God in my life - a life centered with God, a life for Him and with Him, and through Him and in Him I will have all that I need.

He is sufficient. So what if there are crosses on my back?

Definitions

2007-05-23T19:48:00.000+08:00

In secondary school, we memorised definitions by heart. In JC, we understood our subjects a little better (most of them anyway), and these definitions started to make sense. In university, we have grasped the concepts and definitions come naturally.

Yet, for feelings and some other issues in life, the more we try to define them, the more we come to realise that they cannot be defined.

If Life Is Feeling Extensively, and feelings are objects known but undefined, so life is a broader perspective of something known, felt, and experienced, but undefined.

To live life simply is to accept the fact that life can only be experienced and embraced but cannot be defined. It is not a parameter to be controlled.

Angel Imageries

2007-05-01T23:01:00.000+08:00

The sudden gush of howling wind jeers at the screams that yearn to be released but are unable to do so. The words that are allowed to be out refuse to. I stare at you, wishing you would grab my hand and run with me to the sea, from which the howling winds arrive. There, I would scream back at the mother of winds in retort, daring her to send her worst cries at me. Drowning in all that coldness and sharp shrills, I will let go of myself. Amidst all that chaos, you still hold my hand, and I will feel that contrasting warmth creep up, into my heart, into my head. Then, I will bring myself back to this world, to you.

But you just stare blankly back. And I don't know how to tell you not to.

So I leapt from the ledge, stretching my white-feathered wings, carrying me on the wind instead of screaming back at it. I soar without looking back, knowing you did not follow nor even stare. I continue soaring, till the first pelts of rain hit my back. I never knew rain could hit so hard. It might as well have been bullets penetrating my skin, but these were nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

So I stood on top of a tree, the highest tree there was in that big wide field, on the top of everything else, staring straight up, and feeling that rain on my face. Wings oustretched, rain trickled down it, and wet it. It grew heavier by the minute, and I let it fall to my side, slowly and gradually. All this while the wind whipped around me, still challenging. It grew stronger, or perhaps, I grew weaker. Rain lashed, the result of that challenge. My wings closed. Then I lost. That monstrous gale gave a triumphant roar and tipped me over. I plunged, down the length of that tree, which was long indeed. Fear gripped my heart hard, and for a moment numbed me of my initial pain.

Sighing that it was about to end, I opened my wings, and slowed, till I landed on the soft earth that was mud with a thud. I would go home with brown wings today. The only bad thing about a thunderstorm is that the stars hide away, refusing to come out and play. Well, you can't have the pie and the cake at once. Running out of thoughts, my attention turned to you, once more. Sigh. I wish I could just lie there and not go home. Yes, be it in the mud. The rain is comforting. The wind cries, unhappy that it has not achieved its end. I laugh.

I think to myself, I ought to cry, with you treating me like that. But no, there are no tears at all. Why? Because the tears of the heavens are greater than mine. The clouds cry for me, unto me, washing me of my sorrow. I am brown on the outside, but my heart is clean, clean of the red of blood. It is now white.

I return home. And there you are. Staring blankly. I stare back, blankly, or so I think. How much of the remnants of my emotions leak out from those black holes of mine I cannot see, and only you can tell, if you bother to catch those shooting stars from my eyes. Now, no more screams, no more words, just a blank mind. That gradually turns my heart to stone. It is now grey.

Stoned. I wash up, and lie on my back, folding my wings in. They keep me warm.
Stoned. I forget I need you to keep my hands warm.
Stoned. Stoned.
The only thing I hear and feel is my heart beating against my chest.
I thought it had turned to stone?
Drowsily, I turned, and there you are, sleeping beside.
Turning back, I close my eyes, and listen.
I hear my heart. I hear your breath.
I just wish I could hear your heart's breath.
That being my last thought,
I slept.

His Words

2007-04-29T11:17:00.000+08:00

I may be
less loving,
less caring,
less confident,
less joyful,
less strong,
less humble,
and have less faith
than any of you out there.

But I will try to be
more loving,
more caring,
more confident,
more joyful,
stronger,
more humble,
and to grow in faith
in people
and in God.

For God said never to judge yourself unworthy of His kingdom
though the rest of this world may judge you to be unworthy of them.
He will lead us to the springs of life
though the rest of this world smothers life out of you.
We will reach the kingdom He promised,
just as He led His people out of Egypt to Canaan,
out of this world that we are in now,
into a Church standing in eternity and out of this dimension of time.
He is there.

God's Child

2007-04-22T22:26:00.000+08:00

Is it just me
Or are problems getting more difficult

Feeling dumb
Low in intellect
Muted

Used to have solutions
Ready at hand
Now my mind draws a blank

Used to be able to step aside and look at problems from a distance
Something separate from myself
Now I question my identity

Until the Lord told me
If you do not know who you see in the mirror
Stop defining

Just remember
It doesn't matter whatever else you are

You are
My child.

On The Road To Life

2007-04-05T14:37:00.000+08:00

After graduating from JC, I waited a year before I went to Melbourne Uni. During this year, I enrolled into NUS for one semester. Whenever I told people about this, a variety of opinions surfaced, and some of them gave strong opinions about wasting money, too much money to spare, why spend on something that would not help you earn your degree etc etc etc. Before I enrolled I gave serious thought to such opinions, because it is true to a certain extent. However, now, I have no doubts that I made a correct decision.

Besides making new friends, joining a new community, and gaining knowledge (all these were beautiful), I gained an insight to life. During my stint in NUS, I could learn without stress, but was still under pressure to do well. The consequences were not life-threatening, but I tried my best to study hard so I could get the most out of it.

Shouldn't life be like this? Life, afterall, is not our final destination. Death is. Or rather, the life after death. For those who believe, it is what you do here that determines what sort of life you will have after your death.

So life here on Earth should be like my stint in NUS. It does not matter what grades you get, what splendid achievements you have achieved, but what you get out of it. Life should be thought of as fleeting. Try your best, but don't stress too much over what you should do, and whether you will be happy.

Your effort counts. What you learn from your effort counts. Hopefully, we are all on the correct routes to that same destination.

Truth, Love and Grace

2007-03-20T21:31:00.000+08:00

There are many ways to love a person. Everybody has their own concept of love and loving, and to each, that's their definition of love and the best way to love. These ideas and concepts may contradict. So what then is true love? Does it encompass all these different perspectives?

I think God does not accept all ways. He has His own definition of love, which is the unconditional giving and sacrifice, perfectly demonstrated by the sending of His son to die for us. Can a person's over-possesiveness be called love? Then his concept is warped, and is not in line with the way God wants us to love. This is when the grace of God comes in. He knows your weaknesses: your inabilities to conceptualise perfectly His idea of love, your selfishness, your lack of wisdom to discern etc. So he takes that into account when He considers your intentions. If your intention is far from wanting to love, even though you may appear to do so, that He might not pardon. But if you really want to love, and am trying hard, even if you are doing it the wrong way, He sees your effort and notes it. He strips away all of you, and just looks at your heart. He does not take into account your emotional abuse that you suffered as a child, the poor family relationships that you had resulting in a cruel and wicked mind, but as long as you spare one effort trying to do good, he will take note of it, and store it in His book of merit.

That's the grace of God.

Living Alone

2007-02-25T18:55:00.000+08:00

In order to live alone, you have to learn how to be a housewife first. You need to know what your house needs in terms of kitchen ware, toiletries, bedding etc. You need to know how to buy fresh foods. You need to know how to cook the fresh foods. You need to know how to wash up. You need to know how to wash the floor, clean the cupboards, wash your clothes, how to keep things tidy, and when to do all these things. It involves extensive mental planning and energy and enthusiam. For me at least.

Living alone in a different world entails coping with being alone in a new place at night, in city with sounds unfamiliar. It involves exercising your influence into your new abode, erasing the memories of its previous occupant's existence. It includes breathing in air that is fresh -unfamiliar to your lungs- and navigating through streets by their names, instead of by their landmarks.

In that different world, you need to learn how to be thick-skinned. You will need to learn how to ask for help from anybody about everything.

All these require courage. It requires courage to leave the pride of knowing your environment well. It draws courage to leave readily available help. It extorts courage to face four walls with all your things around you, but with nothing to do, and no one to face.

Don't worry I'm fine.

You meet new friends, see new sights and smell new flowers. The worst is over, and things can only get better. When they do, my life will bloom. After all, winter must pass before spring arrives.

Unbreakable Hearts

2007-02-03T01:02:00.000+08:00

The only hearts that do not break are the ones that are busily constructing little hells of loveless control, cocoons of safe, respectable selfishness to insulate themselves from the tidal wave of tears that come sooner or later.

CS Lewis

Let our Hearts be On Fire.

If You Were Magic

2007-01-22T23:31:00.000+08:00

Banish the thought.
Correction.
Banish the thoughts.
Like an emperor the unwanted concubines.
Away, to the Cold Palace.
Which, in my mind, is still in my mind.

Speak not a word more, speak not a word less.
Wrong.
You spoke not a word more, spoke not a word less,
(Of yourself.)
Like magic that first appears.
If there is a definition for that word,
You would be the answer.

I
Cannot
This magic
Banish from my
Cold Palace because
I cannot banish you
From my mind into my heart.

Wellsprings of Life

2007-01-15T00:29:00.000+08:00

Like how poets depend on the moon, we depend on memories. To admire beauty; to have something to relish, to think about, to write about; and to evoke emotions that may not necessarily be positive, just so to fill and occupy our empty hearts.

But they are not life. They can spur you on and give you hope for a while, but you cannot draw life from them. Many a times our own wellspring of life runs out, and we start drawing life from other people. Soon these people will find that you are drawing life from them, and it tires them, so they leave or distant themselves from you.

Where to find life then, if it is not present in memories nor in other people? The Lord is the ultimate and true wellspring of life. Drink, and you shall not thirst. Only when you have life, can you give life, and not kill others around you.

Are you life-giving, or life-drawing? Are there things that you do or see or hear that kills life in you? Stop being obsessed with the moon. You'll fall into the water, and start calling yourself Lucy sooner or later.

Bond Lengths and Swimming Lessons

2006-12-17T17:17:00.000+08:00

As Christians, there are times in life when the closer you are to God, the further He seems away from you. It seems more difficult to reach Him, to listen to Him, at the times when you are looking for Him the hardest.

Someone described this relationship as the 'bond length' between two atoms. At a distance too far, no bond -no relationship- exists. At a distance too near, the atoms get too close and repel, and the relationship is unstable too. Between atoms there is an 'optimum bond length', a distance where the most stable bond is formed. I guess this analogy applies to all relationships. We all need breathing space; and we all need contact.

With regards to the relationship with God, there is yet another analogy. Those who have taken swimming lessons will know that after you have learnt your first strokes, your coach will stand in front of you, arms outstretched, asking you to swim to him. When you do, he just moves away, further from you, making you swim even more and harder, and for that moment, you just feel that you will never be able to reach him. But evantually, you do.

Similarly, God taught you the strokes of life, taught you to survive. He wants you to try now to reach out for Him, so that when you do, you'll appreciate Him and His teachings even more. This sense of accomplishment that He also grants you will encourage you to swim further in life.

At the times you are close to Him, He loses you sometimes, so that you'll remember He is there by His absence. He forces you to look for Him, because He wants you to always search for Him, renewing your relationship.

Life is a struggle. A struggle to do good, to make the right choices. A stuggle to have Him in your life. A struggle to suffer for Him. But he always be there. Just remember that.

Swimming Pool

2006-11-23T18:10:00.000+08:00

Parents are like the walls of a swimming pool of the water of life. When you first start out learning how to swim, you tend to hang on to the walls for dear life, till you begin to learn how to kick, to propel yourself, to survive. Slowly, bit by bit, you leave the walls behind, weaning off your reliance on them. If one day you feel tired struggling in the middle of that pool, in need of a rest, all you have to do is head back to lean on those walls again. They will always be there for you. I know this may not apply to some people, but in life, there are always exceptions.

I once read somewhere that parents exist for their children to have something to act against, and that is so true. Even over the most minor things, children have a tendency to oppose, to rebel, to retaliate. Like professional swimmers in a race, the wall exist for you to kick against for your back flips, to change direction, to head you in the correct direction, to give you thrust.

Keep on swimming, but do not forget those walls.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

2006-11-13T22:32:00.000+08:00

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

Ice Cream for the Sick

2006-11-11T00:00:00.000+08:00

When you were a child, and you were ill, on the brink of recovery, have you ever wanted to have ice cream yet your parents didn't allow? You wanted it, yet you were not ready for it. It's the same with God's love. You can't enjoy its fruits if you don't recover to bask in its glory. Finish your medicine. Be patient. Heal, recover, pray. You will learn to love and be loved one day.

See You

2006-11-08T22:43:00.000+08:00

See th'hare on the yellow lemon up the cold deep,
scatters stars like a lily might its blush.
Yet you call it th'mark of a whip.

See th'pen flying like a feather on the white blank,
cr'ates an apple like a daisy might its sunshine.
Yet you call it the squirt of an urchin.

See th'mice dancing 'mong the pansies from a fantasy,
spreading joy that brings you 'way from harsh realities.
Yet you call them 'cumbers treading nettle.

See that only you are not of the sea;
yet the horses, lions and cows are.
See that you might 'less there're changes;
yet the sea has never stopped changing.

Hiding

2006-10-27T11:42:00.000+08:00

It's good to share your pain. It releases your own burden, and lets others around you know how to treat you. Not with sympathy, not by treating you as an invalid, but rather by allowing them to say the appropriate things, and to not say the inappropriate. If the people around you have an idea of what's going on inside of you, that inside of you may be more balanced, and may have more peace than if the people around you don't know what's going on.

Yet, many of us hide our pain. We do it on a habitual basis, a reflex action, probably arising from our desire not to let our surroundings change because of us, especially the happy ongoings. Some of us do it so often that all people see is our happy side, and they think we could never be really sad. Some of us do it so often that even our happy side is gone -- we simply hide everything. Our all inner and true feelings hidden, that other people only see the superficial side, the trivial side, and don't take us seriously. Those of us like this don't realise that because we are like that, many of our relationships are spoiled. How so? When people don't take you seriously, you start to blame, and start to think that no one truly understands you. There is a hurt in you that will never heal because the people cannot see it to heal it.

Remember, it is not time, but love that heals. Certain hurts go away after long periods of time, but it is really because of the amount of love that accumulates during this time. Some hurts can never go away fully, till you forgive, or are forgiven. Hurts will never be forgotten. Unless you lose your memory. Sometimes there is no right or wrong, just the need to make up.

Virtual. Reality

2006-09-21T22:04:00.000+08:00

Insects on my screen,
mimosas in pink.
Cavalry on horses trot the field
across the Gobi.
To fight,
to fight
my love.

Mempats: the wayside trees.
Insignificant, unnoticed.
Petal by petal,
the Singapore Sakura falls,
till the tree is bare
Awaiting, awaiting,
the next Spring.
Still unnoticed.

Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough

2006-08-30T00:33:00.000+08:00

I don't wanna lose you,
I don't wanna use you
just to have somebody by my side.
And I don't wanna hate you,
I don't wanna take you,
but I don't wanna be the one to cry.
And that don't really matter
to anyone anymore.
But like a fool I keep losing my place
and I keep seeing you walk through that door.

There's a danger in loving somebody too much,
and it's sad when you know it's your heart you can't trust.
There's a reason why people don't stay where they are.
Baby sometimes love just aint enough.

I could never change you,
I don't want to blame you.
Baby you don't have to take the fall.
Yes I may have hurt you,
but I did not desert you.
Maybe I just want to have it all.
It makes a sound like thunder,
it makes me feel like rain.
And like a fool who will never see the truth,
I keep thinking something's gonna change.

There's a danger in loving somebody too much,
and it's sad when you know it's your heart you can't trust.
There's a reason why people don't stay where they are.
Baby sometimes love just aint enough.

And there's no way home,
when it's late at night and you're all alone.
Are there things that you wanted to say?
And do you feel me beside you in your bed,
there beside you
where I used to lay?

And there's a danger in loving somebody too much,
and it's sad when you know it's your heart they can't touch.
There's a reason why people don't stay who they are.
Baby sometimes love just ain't enough.
Baby sometimes love... it just ain't enough.

Circles Of Life

2006-07-31T00:30:00.000+08:00

Life should be ordered by circles. A big one in the middle, medium ones around that big one, and smaller ones surrounding those. Kind of like an ovum with all the follicles around it. The centre of the ovum should be where the essence of life is. The wall of it should be what's protecting this essence. And the follicles are parts of life that come and go.

The essence of my life is God and my faith.

The wall is my family, protecting me from society's harms and keeping my faith safe.
My closer friends remind me of who I am.

The follicles are events that happen in life, people you meet along the way that are not part of your being. They add to life's experience, enrich you perhaps, but are not very essential.

Some of our natures are such that we need to have lots of follicles in our lives. To keep us busy and occupied, to keep our lives exciting and bustling. But sometimes, follicles grow too much, and crowd till we can barely see the essence of our life. We lose focus, and lose sight of what matters to us.

At these points of my life, I call the follicles that crowd around 'red herrings'. We are missiles in the ocean of life chasing after ships, our targets. Sometimes we hit on red herrings instead and lose our target -- our dreams, passion, family and friends.

Time to push away some follicles, get the red herrings out of sight, and go for the essence of life.

That Steep Slope

2006-07-09T00:17:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, it comes to a point when you have to make a decision on how to react to a situation, you'll feel that any reaction you make will turn out wrong. You can choose to do something about the situation, and risk things taking a wrong turn; or you can just wait for things to unfold, provided they do unfold and develop from there.

It's kinda like rollerblading till you reach the top of a steep slope. You can choose not to, and just blade back. Or you can let your blades take you on a ride. A ride that if you take, you may enjoy, or conversely, it will cause fear to grip your heart so tight you can't breathe. A ride that may land you sprawled on the road like a dog, leaving you bleeding, bruised, undignified and scars to remind you for some time to come; a ride that may land you safe and sound, on some flat platform that you can continue to rollerblade with more self-confidence, assurance and security.

Will you take this ride? Or bear to leave without knowing if you can overcome it, without knowing what's beyond that slope? Perhaps self-confidence is learnt from surviving such obstacles.

2006-06-16T01:49:00.000+08:00

I'm a big big girl
In a big big world
It's not a big big thing
If you leave me
But I do, do feel
That I do, do will
Miss you much
Miss you much

Dance

2006-06-11T00:15:00.000+08:00

Life should be a dance. A dance with grace, purpose and rhythm. Grace in the literal sense, and also in the figurative sense. Literal, in that forgive-and-forget manner, in that magnaminous manner. Figurative, in that 'there is a time for everything, so act accordingly'. A time to laugh, a time to play, a time to cry, a time to say I love you. A time to be angry, a time to maintain your silence, a time for responsibility, a time to be logical, a time to be illogical and follow your heart. So treat not just others gracefully, but also your dance of life. In this dance, the music is unpredictable. Dance to the tune of the music, go with your heart, but do not let it get out of hand. Focus, set the theme of your dance, and dance with purpose. Only then will your dance be beautiful.

No more hesitating, focus now. Don't wait till the end of the dance to regret you could have done better. Save the last dance. Save your dance now.

P.S. Remember to buy shoes of love, humility and faith.

Children

2006-05-15T12:29:00.000+08:00

The process of transformation from a child to an adult is called growing up. Being grown up, among other things, entails the lost of a childhood innocence. What is childhood innocence? It is the ability to place trust in your surroundings and the people around you, that all is good despite so many obvious flaws, and that all are true to you. Graduation from your schooling days to the working society, the reality of a practical world sinks in. Going along with the flow of being practical, there is this stark realisation that that childlike trust placed has ebbed away. Dreams die. Dreams not of goals and aims in career achievements, but those of a child, running freely across a green grass field, with no trace of worry. That child with her hair flowing behind her dies, and fades away. One day, you will look at a child in reality, and wonder, how could I ever have been like that before? That thought of being so carefree brings disapproval. Such is the power of growing up.

Just a few years back, everytime I read newspaper articles about taking time off to relax and 'smell the roses', I would wonder: why, does it take such a load of effort to stop and smell the roses, to appreciate the beauty and wonders of nature? For, to me, that was easy as breathing. Yet, as years pass, as the harsh reality of this world drills in, there is less time, less opportunities, and less of a mood to do so. Finally, I understand why people, working adults in particular, have to make a conscious effort to 'smell the roses'.

They left that child behind.

Singapore Sakura

2006-04-16T23:51:00.000+08:00

A mempat
Sitting beside and leaning over a gushing stream
The gushing stream
Ambitious and full of energy
Falling sakuras
Set to create a scene so purposeful
Yet the raging water pays no heed

Judo

2006-02-27T21:49:00.000+08:00

After training for a year or so, I've found that in Judo there is something that cannot be helped. Inevitably, no matter how hard you try, how many sorries you say, you will always injure someone, be it your training partner or your opponent. Such is the nature of the sport. Of course as months pass you learn how to take precautions and look out for one another, but accidents always happen somehow, either a major one such as a knee cap dislocation or a major nose bleed, or minor bruises. So for us seniors to be thrown by juniors is a painful experience which we try to avoid, due to their inadequate skills. Everytime we wince they apologise, but I always tell them not to. Why? The reason being that training includes learning to fall, and that the discipline means learning to withstand pain. Such is the nature of martial arts. There is no need to apologise.

And I've found that there is something else that shares this Judo nature of taking falls and withstanding pain. Love also has this nature. It brings you up in the air, but can cause you to fall and hurt you deep. However, you cannot blame anyone for how you feel. You cannot control your feelings, neither can others control theirs. We have to absorb the consequences of our own feelings and be responsible for it. Such is the nature of love. There is no need to apologise.

The Dream

2006-02-01T00:09:00.001+08:00

"Has anybody seen her?" I searched anxiously for my friend in the supermarket.
"I think she went to meet Him."
That feeling of doom loomed in my heart. The person she went to look for was a stranger, a person who had called to her by some means of a message. Like a magnet, she had to go. He was dangerous, drawing her to Him as such. I looked for her even more desperately now, hoping to get to her before He does. While the rest of the group had just decided to give up the search, I recalled the message, and remembered a mention of some basement. Before that, I had searched the basement of that building, only to find a sleazy pub tucked under the winding stairs. I decided to try looking there again, and went down to the basement, but she was not there.

I was her now. The search for a friend, the search for something more than this world had to offer, led to the search for my true self. Now I looked and waited for Him instead. Where is He? Who had called me? And why? A feeling of mystery lurked about, not just curiosity, but a sense of doom as well. I was just about to begin my way up the stairs when He came. He was tall and dark in black shirt and pants, with a cloak about Him. The moment I saw Him I knew He was a magician. I bolted, or tried to, but I could not. His magic was too strong. I struggled for my life. Suddenly I was in contact with Him and I fought tooth and nail. He never got hurt and neither did I, but I could never escape His grasp. No matter how hard I cried, how hard I struggled, His magic held me to Him, in His arms, unable to escape. He let me struggle, not forcing me but never letting me go either. He wanted me for His own.

We were outside the building, along the black tiled sidewalk in the dark of night, with many passers-by. I continued screaming and shouting and crying for help, struggling to escape. Those passers-by never noticed me, or if they did, they just smiled at me. The magic he'd cast created an illusion, such that things never appeared what they should be. This is an inner struggle, from within, between the two of us.
"It's your magic!" I screamed at Him in exasperation.
He just smiled at me. Suddenly I managed to escape from His clutches and ran. While I was running on that sidewalk, a girl in black tights ran past me in an opposite direction, slapping me on the cheek as she did so. I sensed her jealousy towards me, yet I was not threatened by her, understanding that He would protect me against her. I had His favour. He had let me run, but when she joined Him, He gave chase, with her running alongside. As I ran, I screamed for my life for help at people nearby, but the words just could not come out of my throat. He must have used the word 'muffliato', I thought. Running on the side of a road now, I saw a huge truck come my way. In desperation, thinking I'd rather die than be in His control forever, I ran in front of the truck, hoping it'd kill me. But it didnt. I ended up running under it, coming out unharmed.
"So you'd rather die?"
I nodded. Knowing that I'd rather die and leave all of this dreamworld behind than let Him have me must have hurt Him, but I could not care less then. Still I ran hard, wanting with all my soul to sprint, but I seemed to be slowing down instead! I screamed in anguish, and watched Him come running after me from the back, coming closer, with the girl beside Him. All of my hope died. I stopped dead in my tracks, and waited for Him to reach me. I had surrendered.

He banged right into me, and laughed. I looked at Him again. He had changed. His hair was now golden. He was no longer in black, but in a white striped shirt. I had realised He will always be behind giving chase, and coming to terms with that I had no choice but to surrender. Now that I had, that terrible and looming figure had disappeared. He was good and whole, and He just wanted me for His own - to love and to protect. I hugged Him and said, "I can never get out of you." I never felt anything as comforting as His warm embrace. There was this sense of belonging, of being tamed, and from then on I knew His protection would never leave me. And I never tried to escape from Him after that. I had gained my true freedom. No longer searching, no longer running from Him.

God's Gift of Narnia

2006-01-19T22:09:00.000+08:00

I know a place where no one ever goes
There's peace and quiet and beauty and repose
It's hidden in a valley
Beside a mountain stream
And lying there beside the stream I find that I can dream
Only of things of beauty to the eye
Snow peak mountains towering to the sky
Now I know why God made this world
For me

Enjoy the Lord with all your heart, soul, mind and body.
Immerse yourself and soak Him up in daily prayer.
Like a sponge, the more you empty yourself the more you absorb.

God gave us prayer, and He gave us the natural beauty of this world. Though He gave us a haven here on Earth, through our actions we have made it imperfect. Only if we see this world through the eyes of a child, can we appreciate the Narnia in this blemished world. On the final day of judgement, if we have believed and have hoped in Him, we will live to see the true Narnia: the kingdom of God.

Can't Tell If You're Beautiful

2005-12-17T23:11:00.000+08:00

Walking on a bridge
The starlight on the tree tops
You admire it beside me
Can't tell which is more beautiful

Reaching our meeting place
The rain behind my back
Only you seem to notice it
Can't tell which is more beautiful

Something's abound behind that stare
Something's amiss behind that pretty face
I never dared as much
To ask you what it is
But I just can't get over you
(Oh I can't just get over you)

Listening to that tune
So familiar with its meaningful words
You sang it along to me
Can't tell which is more beautiful

Talking to your best friend
Seeing you walk away
Knowing more about you
Can't tell which is more beautiful

You struck me so
You brought me down
You left me so
And I never knew why nothin' happened

There's an undeniable attraction to you
An undeniable affection for you

2005-10-13T00:31:00.000+08:00

There is a peace which cometh after sorrow
Of hope surrendered not of hope fulfilled,
A peace that looketh not upon tommorow,
But calmly on a tempest that is stilled.

A peace there is, a sacrifice secluded,
A life subdued, from will and passion free,
'Tis not the peace that over Eden brooded,
But that which triumphed in Gethsemane.

Resurrection is always preceded by death, and dying is a painful process.

Speaking Out Loud

2005-09-16T22:29:00.000+08:00

Most show how they feel in their actions, and what they think in their words. So if they speak louder than their actions, do they think more than feel? If they do more than what they say, do they feel more than think?

Not many of us can reflect our thoughts and opinions in our actions, for that requires time and therefore patience. Not many of us can express our feelings and emotions by our words, for that requires passion and articulation.

Literature

2005-09-09T22:57:00.000+08:00

I'm looking for a good book. I won't flip to the last page to read the ending -- I'd rather wait and keep myself in suspense, with all that emotion and tension and roller-coaster rides. Then when perhaps the book has ended, I would have had no regrets. A book is an experience, among others. It cannot be read again. It would not be the same anymore.

Enough

2005-09-02T00:57:00.000+08:00

What's life without death
What's love without pain
Stars would not be what they are without the dark

Starfish

2005-08-19T00:33:00.000+08:00

As the old man walked the beach at dawn, he noticed a boy ahead of him picking up starfish and flinging them into the sea. Finally catching up with the boy, he asked why he was doing this. The answer was that the stranded starfish would die if left until the morning sun.

"But the beach goes on for miles and there are millions of starfish," said the old man.
"How can your effort make any difference?"

The boy looked at the starfish in his hand and then threw it safely into the waves.
"It makes a difference to this one," he said.

Ironies of Life's Journey

2005-07-29T23:47:00.000+08:00

Walking down the streets of Northampton
That dark and moonlit alley
Has that silver light crept in through your heart's valves
Warm and chill you in your deepest emotions

Away from people's incessant talk
That blatant noise pollution
Have you realised that blasting music spoils your ears
Screams of that dictator seem to hurt you more

Recoiling from recalled broken dreams
That bittersweet memory
How came it to be an act of cowardice
Stemmed from passion's naivety and courage

Silence now staring from hidden stars
That have been overshadowed
Why do they speak volumes of understanding
Vast and unfathomable constellations

Close now to your inner self and heart
That universe infinite
Why does this black hole collapse unto itself
Freedom tempted run to the ends of the earth

Gasping in at this unexpected
That friendship reunited
How it calmed your fears relieved you of worry
An alien gift a great service of the Lord's

Reaching the ends of the streets of life
A stirring realisation
The brush that chooses from emotions' palette
Penultimately paints your final sunset

Standing at these gates of St Peter
Who told you nothing but truth
The streets you once walked to your destination
Chooses for you the stars or the blackest hole

Bittersweet

2005-07-10T21:14:00.000+08:00

Some people spend their lives heading towards their dreams. Some people never manage to accomplish it. What is gained is not the dream but the journey towards it. The friendships built, the experience gained, the leadership skills honed over these many hours spent. To you, you may not have succeeded at all. At least tell yourself you've tried. It's the only thing you can do now.

"What you cannot enforce, do not command."

But to enforce we have to command?

"It is simple to live in complexity and complex to live in simplicity."

I guess this statement cannot be less true.

If you do fail in accomplishing your dream, remember always that the by-products of chasing this dream will be what ultimately pulls you through this failure.

Regrets will be inevitable. You will wonder, why did I choose this dream, knowing it was near impossible? Why did I not face up to reality and continue deceiving myself? Even when the truth had stared at me in the face. Why did I hope? Why did I fail? What did I do? What did I not do? A hundred and one questions and unquestions will run through your mind, and you will stand there, shocked and helpless. A stampede of truths and untruths will be presented. Suddenly the tears that ought to accompany this doesn't flow from your eyes, but in your heart. Unable to express and release this pain, you turn to stone, and live in redundancy.

If you really do regret in this way, then you have truely been brought down, not by your failure to accomplish your dream, but the failure to face up to it and live life as normal.

Be patient. Live with this pain if you have to, as you continue with life. One day, someday, it will pass, by some revelation, healing, or by courage to start a new dream.

I will miss you.

Spiderman

2005-06-25T01:24:00.000+08:00

i can't stand to fly
i'm not that naive
i'm just out to find
the better part of me
i'm more than a bird... i'm more than a plane
more than some pretty face beside a train
it's not easy to be me

wish that i could cry
fall upon my knees
find a way to lie
about a home i'll never see
it may sound absurd...but don't be naive
even heroes have the right to bleed
i may be disturbed...but won't you concede
even heroes have the right to dream
it's not easy to be me

up, up and away...away from me
it's all right...you can all sleep sound tonight
i'm not crazy...or anything...

i can't stand to fly
i'm not that naive
men weren't meant to ride
with clouds between their knees

i'm only a man in a silly red sheet
digging for kryptonite on this one way street
only a man in a funny red sheet
looking for special things inside of me
it's not easy to be me
inside of me,inside of me,inside of me

i'm only a man in a funny red sheet
i'm only a man looking for her dream
i'm only a man in a funny red sheet
and it's not easy
it's not easy to be me

"Tell ne Bruce, why do we fall? To learn to pick ourselves up again."

If We Hold On Together

2005-06-19T00:43:00.000+08:00

Don't lose your way with each passing day
You've come so far, don't throw it away
Live believing, dreams are for weaving
Wonders are waiting to start
Live your story, Faith hope and glory
Hold to the truth in your heart

If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
Where clouds roll by, for you and I

Souls in the wind must learn how to bend
Seek out a star, hold on till the end
Valley, mountain, there is a fountain
Washes our tears all away
Worlds are swaying, someone is praying
Please let us come home to stay

If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
Where clouds roll by, for you and I

When we are out there in the dark
We'll dream about the sun
In the dark, we'll feel the light
Warm our hearts
Everyone

If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
As high as souls can fly
The clouds roll by, for you and I

~We're all holding on together. so come what may~

Love is ...beautiful... to me

2005-06-03T00:08:00.000+08:00

Beauty is one of the faces of God. It is God's memory of all that is holy and good, faithful, and true. It often appears upon the scene when hope seems gone. It has the power to heal, restore, comfort, and delight that part of you that is overcome with grief. Beauty is God's way of reminding you of your own beauty. It is God remembering you.

Sister Macrina
Wiederkehr, O.S.B.

Love

2005-06-02T23:43:00.000+08:00

When love beckons to you, follow him.
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height
and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire,
that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you
that you may know the secrets of your heart,
and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only
Love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness
and pass out of love's threshing floor,
Into the seasonless world
where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter,
and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself,
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed:
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say,
"God is in my heart," but rather,
"I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy,
directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
but if you love and must have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart
and a song of praise upon your lips.

Kahlil Gibran

JUst DO it

2005-05-05T17:09:00.000+08:00

A strong mind is knowing that you may be the last at the beginning, but believing that you will be the first at the end.

We, the Maggi Mee generation, will not give up our long term goals for instant gratification. We will persevere through all pain, suffering, obstacles and jabs at our ego. We will be strong.

We will not be eaten.

What Love Should Be

2005-05-03T22:54:00.000+08:00

It was a busy morning, approximately 8:30 am, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's, arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He stated that he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am.

I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On examination it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the
needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.

While taking care of his wound, we began to engage in conversation. I asked him if he had a doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, he needed to go to the nursing home to have breakfast with his wife. I then inquired about her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer Disease. As we talked, and I finished dressing his wound, I asked if she would be worried if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him for the past five years. I was surprised, and asked him.
"And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?"

He smiled as he patted my hand and said,
"She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is."

I had to hold back tears as he left. I had goosebumps on my arm, and thought,
"That is the kind of love I want in my life."

True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.

Humility

2005-05-02T15:10:00.000+08:00

Aesop has a fable titled, "The Oak and the Reed."
In a mighty storm the proud Oak said,
"I will not bend before the wind."
Then a sudden strong gust of wind came and uprooted the unbending Oak.
As the Oak lay prostrate on the ground,
it saw a tiny reed swaying in the storm.
The Oak asked,
"How is it that I who am so mighty have been uprooted, whereas you who are so frail still stand in the storm?''
The Reed answered,
''I give in a little to the wind."

When The Best Isn't Enough

2005-04-23T21:40:00.000+08:00

On Nov. 18, 1995, Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage to give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City.

If you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage is no small ahievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and slowly, is an awesome sight. He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play.

By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play.

But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap - it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do. We figured that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and limp his way off stage - to either find another violin or else find another string for this one.

But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signalled the conductor to begin again. The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before.

When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done. He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said - not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone - "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the definition of life - not just for artists but for all of us. Here is a man who has prepared all his life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all of a sudden, in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only three strings; so he makes music with three strings, and the music he made that night with just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more memorable, than any that he had ever made before, when he had four strings. So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we have left.

Playing A Violin With Three Strings
Jack Riemer

The Body

2005-04-18T00:20:00.000+08:00

A human body is made of many parts, each with different functions. The brain thinks, the hands work, the legs move etc.

The Church is like a body. Each different groups within the Church has different functions. Yet, though they be different, they are still part of the same body, which is Jesus Christ, the Sacred Heart; and made up of cells, which are the people. Each cell or people may be different, but they are still nourished by the same substance, oxygen, likened to the Eucharist. Of course, the soul of that body would be the Holy Spirit.

Perhaps the Pope, bishops and priests would be the blood, servants of the Lord, carrying his message and nourishing us with his faith. May we have newer blood in this Body.

Advice

2005-04-08T00:10:00.000+08:00

My advice to you is that you should give advice only when asked, not when you think it is needed, unless in life and death situations. Only then is the advice valuable and treasured.

After The Sunset

2005-03-12T00:53:00.000+08:00

Love should come like the sunrise. You may be standing alone in the dark of night, lonely and isolated. Yet when the sun starts to rise, the sky slowly lightens up, and love comes creeping in. Before you know it, you're immersed in this brilliant sunrise that slowly warms your chilled heart, and the dew of dawn rejuvenates you in its freshness. The day that follows may be sunny, or it may be cloudy, rainy or stormy. Sometimes the sun shines too brightly and you may seek shelter, seeking repose, seeking calmness and a peace of mind. At the end of the day, the day slowly wanes, and the sun begins to set, ending the day gloriously with purple, pink, orange and blue. You may be standing there admiring the sunset, looking back and feeling nostalgic about the past, and wishing that it could have lasted longer. When night falls, you start to see darkness and isolation starts creeping in again.

If only you would lift up your head and look up into the starry sky above.

Thunderstorm

2005-02-28T23:14:00.000+08:00

Standing here
In the middle of this road
Watching bright streaks of light flash past me
A turmoil of feelings ensue

In this beautiful chaos
Which is more prevalent?
A sense of joy and delight
Or the fear of danger

Which do you choose to feel?

Do you dare stand here
And enjoy this beauty
Yet risk being struck down
And torn apart

Will you have the courage to believe
To immerse yourself in hope faith trust love
Yet face being let down
And heartbroken

Having been electrocuted
My heart died
Having been shocked
My heart died
It'll take much more than appreciation
To move me once again

True

2005-02-23T23:20:00.000+08:00

I cldn't talk
I cldn't breathe
I cldn't move till I'd finally seen
That you belong with me
You might think I didnt look
But deep inside
In the corner of my mind
I'm attached to you

I'm weak
It's true
Cause I was afraid to know the answer
Did you want me too?
Cause my heart kept falling faster

(*)
I'd waited all my life to cross this line
To the only thing that's true
So I did not hide
I had to try
Anything to be with you
All my life I'd waited
For this truth

You don't know what you did
Everytime you walked into the room
I was afraid to move

I'm weak
It's true
I was just scared to know the ending
Were you too?
Cause my hope just kept fading away

(Repeat *)

I know when I go I'll be on my way to you
The way that's true

I'd waited all my life to cross this line
To the only thing that's true
So I did not hide
I had to try
Anything to be with you
All my life I'd waited
For this truth

Is it still true?

2005-02-11T01:37:00.000+08:00

What do you do when you've found out tt what u feel cant be put in words
when u feel no one will understand how u feel
because even you yrself dont understand it
what do u do
do u seek an answer still
do u probe n wonder n think n ponder endlessly
when all yr thoughts clog up yr mind
n u cant think of anything else
what do u do
to get rid of these thoughts
i will seek an answer
seek a consolation
seek an understanding
i may or may not find an answer
but at least
i already have
hope
of a revelation

Dreams

2005-01-26T16:52:00.000+08:00

Have you ever wondered why you persist in something, even if it causes you so much unhappiness? The responsibilities you have to fulfill, the expectations you have to live up to, and the goals you have to achieve probably has stopped you from quitting. Do these responsibilities, expectations, and goals outweigh happiness?

I think they do, but only if you have a dream. Dreams allow you to perceive fulfilling responsibilities as a noble thing, expectations as an affirmation of your capability and aptitude, and goals as an aspiration and something unimpossible that you can work towards to. Most importantly, the process towards fulfilling responsibilities, living up to expectations and achieving goals no longer becomes a chore, but rather, a challenge that fills you with adrenaline, and you will also find joy and peace in this process.

My dream is to dream. What's yours?

What's Left Behind

2005-01-17T23:00:00.000+08:00

It's not what a person says or does, that you'll remember. It's how he made you feel, that you'll never forget. Memories and words can be forgotten, but feelings will always remain in your heart.

Disappointments

2005-01-16T01:51:00.000+08:00

Disappointments are inevitable. But when the disappointment is too great to pick up from, it'll escalate into a loss of hope and faith. Further attempts seem bleak, and you feel alone in this mission anyway, to try again. You may be disappointed with others or with yourself, and you can't seem to do anything about it, only live with the pain day by day.

Does it have to remain this way?

I don't just want a blank white page, I need it to be filled with colours of warmth -- of acceptance, joy, peace and love -- before hope arrives, for me to have the courage to start again.

I found it today.

Life

2005-01-08T22:51:00.001+08:00

Life is never wasted. Some say life is a game, except that the game points cant be saved. Some say life is like rain, once fallen, it flows back to the sea and the rain drops never seen.

Yes life is a game, but experience points can be chalked up. Life is like rain, but after falling and flowing into the sea, it evaporates into the air, forming clouds, and evantually fall as rain again.

Do not despair, for life is never wasted.

His Eye Is On The Sparrow

2005-01-01T23:01:00.000+08:00

It was chilly in Manhattan but warm inside the Starbucks shop on 51st Street and Broadway, just a skip up from Times Square. Early November weather in New York City holds only the slightest hint of the bitter chill of late December and January, but it's enough to send the masses crowding indoors to vie for available space and warmth.

For a musician, it's the most lucrative Starbucks location in the world, I'm told; and consequently, the tips can be substantial if you play your tunes right. Apparently, we were striking all the right chords that night, because our basket was almost overflowing. It was a fun, low-pressure gig - I was playing keyboard and singing backup for my friend who also added rhythm with an arsenal of percussion instruments. We mostly did pop songs from the '40s to the '90s with a few original tunes thrown in. During our emotional rendition of the classic, "If You Don't Know Me by Now," I noticed a lady sitting in one of the lounge chairs across from me. She was swaying to the beat and singing along.

After the tune was over, she approached me. "I apologize for singing along on that song. Did it bother you?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "We love it when the audience joins in. Would you like to sing up front on the next selection?" To my delight, she accepted my invitation.
"You choose," I said. "What are you in the mood to sing?"
"Well do you know any hymns?"

Hymns? This woman didn't know who she was dealing with. I cut my teeth on hymns. Before I was even born, I was going to church. I gave our guest singer a knowing look. "Name one."

"Oh, I don't know. There are so many good ones. You pick one."

"Okay," I replied. "How about 'His Eye is on the Sparrow'?"

My new friend was silent, her eyes averted. Then she fixed her eyes on mine again and said, "Yeah. Let's do that one."

She slowly nodded her head, put down her purse, straightened her jacket and faced the center of the shop. With my two-bar setup, she began to sing:

Why should I be discouraged? Why should the shadows come?

The audience of coffee drinkers was transfixed. Even the gurgling noises of the cappuccino machine ceased as the employees stopped what they were doing to listen. The song rose to its conclusion.

I sing because I'm happy; I sing because I'm free.
For His eye is on the sparrow And I know He watches me.

When the last note was sung, the applause crescendoed to a deafening roar that would have rivaled a sold-out crowd at Carnegie Hall. Embarrassed, the woman tried to shout over the din,

"Oh, y'all go back to your coffee! I didn't come in here to do a concert! I just came in here to get somethin' to drink, just like you!"

But the ovation continued. I embraced my new friend. "You, my dear, have made my whole year! That was beautiful!"

"Well, it's funny that you picked that particular hymn," she said.

"Why is that?"

"Well . ..." she hesitated again, "that was my daughter's favorite song." "Really!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," she said, and then grabbed my hands. By this time, the applause had subsided and it was business as usual. "She was 16. She died of a brain tumor last week."

I said the first thing that found its way through my stunned silence.
"Are you going to be okay?"

She smiled through tear-filled eyes and squeezed my hands. "I'm gonna be okay. I've just got to keep trusting the Lord and singing his songs, and everything's gonna be just fine." She picked up her bag, gave me her card, and then she was gone.

Was it just a coincidence that we happened to be singing in that particular coffee shop on that particular November night? A coincidence that this wonderful lady just happened to walk into that particular shop? Coincidence that of all the hymns to choose from, I just happened to pick the very hymn that was the favorite of her daughter, who had died just the week before? I refuse to believe it.

God has been arranging encounters in human history since the beginning of time, and it's no stretch for me to imagine that he could reach into a coffee shop in midtown Manhattan and turn an ordinary gig into a revival. It was a great reminder that if we keep trusting him and singing his songs, everything's gonna be okay.

=)

It's been a tumultous year. For me, I entered a new phase of my life, experienced one year of all the ups and downs, and gained many lessons, with much wisdom, mercy and grace granted by the Lord. There are two types of 'downs' -- when u are in line with God yet many unfortunate things happen to u; or when u go astray from Him. But one thing remains for sure. He is always watching u. he knows u inside out, better than u do yrself. When u need comfort, he will provide, when u need someone to be there, he is always there. When u've done something wrong, and u feel tt no one else will know but u, he is also there sharing yr thoughts. His Eye is on the Sparrow. However He loves the sinner but hates their sins. We just have to turn back.

Love is... to me.

2004-12-08T01:50:00.000+08:00

"Yet not the more could I define that sentiment, or analyze, or even steadily view it. I recognized it, sometimes in the survey of a rapidly-growing vine -- in the contemplation of a moth, a butterfly, a chrysalis, a stream of running water. I have felt it in the ocean, in the falling of a meteor. I have felt it in the glances of unusually aged people. And there are one or two stars in heaven -- (one especially, a star of the sixth magnitude, double and changeable, to be found near the large star in Lyra) in a telescopic scrutiny of which I have been made aware of this feeling. I have been filled with it by certain sounds from stringed instruments, and not unfrequently by passages from books."

Ligeia
Edgar Allan Poe

Kiss From A Rose

2004-11-24T22:07:00.000+08:00

There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea
You became the light on the dark side of me
Love remained a drug that's the high and not the pill

(*)
But did you know
That when it snows
My eyes become enlarged and
The light that you shine can be seen

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey
Ooh, The more I get of you stranger it feels, yeah
And now that your rose is in bloom
A light hits the gloom on the grey

(**)
There is so much a man can tell you
So much he can say
You remain,
My power, my pleasure, my pain, baby

To me you're like a grown addiction that I can't deny
Won't you tell me is that healthy, baby?

(Repeat *)

Bridge:
I've been kissed by a rose on the grey
I've been kissed by a rose (on the grey)
I've been kissed by a rose on the grey(...And if I should fall along the way)
I've been kissed by a rose
On the grey

(Repeat **)
(Repeat *)

Yes, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey
Ooh, The more I get of you stranger it feels, yeah
And now that your rose is in bloom
A light hits the gloom on the grey

Now that your rose is in bloom
A light hits the gloom on the grey

The Good In Everyone

2004-11-03T23:36:00.000+08:00

It's just so difficult to see the good side of something sometimes, be it of a person, an event, or a matter in hand. Sometimes you wonder, what's the point of carrying on, let's just give up and forget about it. The result will be the same anyway. What's the point of breaking my heart over and over again?

But undeniably, there's something good in everything. The good side of a person, the good things that come out of a certain event though it be bad, and the positive side of every matter on hand. As they say, when you look at a glass with water half-filled, do you see it as half empty or half filled? It's always easy to see the negative side, so that you can start blaming others, people arnd you but yrself.

Everybody has a good point about them. I once read a story about a woman who always had something good to say about everybody and everything around her. So one day someone asked her, what's so good about Satan, the devil. And she replied after much thought, "Well, I admire his patience."

Likewise, some irritating people, though they be irritaing, tactless and selfish, they may for example be positive about things and can be rather hardworking.

For judo, all I can say that it nurtures my sense of responsibility and determination to stick it through no matter how tough the going gets. I never knew I could be so strong; I nver knew I could get over a heartbreak so quickly. I think I've learnt how to understand why some things happen, know they must happen, have no choice but to accept about it. Even though it's saddening, it's easier to let go this way, if you knew why it happened. What come may, it doesn't matter anymore cause I've gotten over it.

A better example would be PW. I think it has killed most of us. However, I strongly feel that through it, it has brought my classmates and I closer together, not only the members of my PW group, but also my other classmates -- I have a deeper understanding of each of them, and the things that go around in class. Moreover, during OP rehearsals and practises, we present in front of anyone currently in that classroom. It has made me more confident of myself in front of them, and shown the more cheerful and bubbly side of me, though i must be careful not to lose myself.

I still have the sticker they stuck on me for OP. I'll continue to keep it.

Tears

2004-10-20T21:35:00.000+08:00

Tears are not a sign of weakness, just an opening for grief, disappointment, loneliness, and even joy, to be poured out, to be expressed. Just like the rain that cleanses your soul, tears cleanse your heart, relieving it of its emotional burdens. Crying without tears is an emotional and even physical torture. Your whole body convulses, shudders and cringe in sorrow and grief, your eyelids clamp together and strain to produce tears, but none comes. At that point in time u wonder if u're really upset, or just trying to feel upset, but no matter how hard you try, your heart is screaming with pain. It's better to release it in that flood of tears than to have your heart bleeding torrents of aching pain and internal tears. Do i make sense? If not, pls forgive me on account of my grief, for it has clouded my mind and torn me apart. Pls forgive if i've become gibberish. I did not want for this to happen.

Respect

2004-10-15T22:32:00.000+08:00

Great achievers are much respected, for the hard work they've put in, for making it. Yet those who've put in their all, tried all their lives, but never succeed nor complain, should be respected the most.

Yet

2004-10-09T01:46:00.000+08:00

I will greet this day with love in my heart.

I will love the sun for it warms my bones; yet I will love the rain for it cleanses my spirit.
I will love the light for it shows me the way; yet I will love the darkness for it shows me the stars.
I will welcome happiness for it enlarges my heart; yet I will endure sadness for it opens my soul.
I will acknowledge rewards for they are my due, yet I will overcome obstacles for they are my challenge.

I will greet this day with love in my heart.
- Og Mandino, The Greatest Salesman in the World

On The Back Of A Lorry

2004-10-01T13:38:00.000+08:00

Sitting on the back of a lorry, I realised that life could never be as simple as watching the world go past you without being cut by stray branches from the roadside trees, getting drenched from the drizzles or the pouring rain, even flung by the sharp turns of the vehicle. Guess that the only thing that seems to remain unchanged would be the stars (if there are anywhere to be seen) and the moon that always seem to follow behind. Even stars fade, and the moon wanes, but the only thing that's truly everlasting will be the Lord's love for me.

Resilience

2004-09-19T23:17:00.000+08:00

Resilience is to bend and not be broken.

Success

2004-09-15T23:37:00.000+08:00

How do you define success? Is it an accomplishment that makes you feel fulfilled? Is money central to success? This was the question in discussion during our GP tutorial this afternoon, and our class was debating the meaning of success, and if success neccessarily brings about fulfillment. When someone mentioned something about love bringing success, I thought of this story:

A woman came out of her house and saw 3 old men with long white beards sitting in her front yard. She did not recognize them. She said "I don't think I know you, but you must be hungry. Please come in and have something to eat."
"Is the man of the house home?", they asked.
"No", she replied. "He's out."
"Then we cannot come in", they replied.

In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened.
"Go tell them I am home and invite them in!"

The woman went out and invited the men in.
"We do not go into a House together," they replied.
"Why is that?" she asked.

One of the old men explained: "His name is Wealth," he said pointing to one of his friends, and said pointing to another one, "He is Success, and I am Love." Then he added, "Now go in and discuss with your husband which >one of us you want in your home."

The woman went in and told her husband what was said. Her husband was overjoyed. "How nice!", he said. "Since that is the case, let us invite Wealth. Let him come and fill our home with wealth!"

His wife disagreed. "My dear, why don't we invite Success?"

Their daughter-in-law was listening from the other corner of the house. She jumped in with her own suggestion: "Would it not be better to invite Love? Our home will then be filled with love!"
"Let us heed our daughter-in-law's advice," said the husband to his wife.
"Go out and invite Love to be our guest."

The woman went out and asked the 3 old men, "Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest."

Love got up and started walking toward the house. The other 2 also got up and followed him. Surprised, the lady asked Wealth and Success: "I only invited Love, Why are you coming in?"

The old men replied together: "If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two of us would've stayed out, but since you invited Love, wherever He goes, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!"

A Matter of Life and Death

2004-09-10T01:48:00.000+08:00

Honestly, have you ever thought of committing suicide before? I had, and so have many people that I know. They tell me they don't know what they're living for. Studies? Duh no. Love? Maybe, but where is it then? No love, no life? In the end, nobody loves their lives? I once thought, how nice it would be if my death could mean something, if it could save another. In other words, i'll die for someone. After all, life here on earth's so hard, if my going could mean a better staying, then my life's purpose should be more than fufilled. That would be rather brave.

I once read a book called Fearless, about a girl who had her fear gene deleted. She's not afraid of anything, but then she realised that she couldn't be called brave, cause being brave is doing something you fear. You may be afraid of the water, others may not. For the rest, swimming is a common sport, but for you to enter the water, to conquer your fears, you're being brave in your own way.

Then it struck me. Dying is not difficult, nor is it daunting. After all, life is fragile, and if it is so bad, what's ending it? Dying for someone may seem courageous, but staying alive and sticking it out for someone you love and wish to protect is even more brave and meaningful.

For me, being a Catholic, I live for God. He gave me my life, for Him to love, and I live to love Him back and help others to love Him more. Jesus died for us after all.

I'll live for Him.

Blessed

2004-09-09T14:48:00.000+08:00

If you hold up your head with a smile
on your face and are truly thankful,
you are blessed because the majority can,
but most do not.

Why

2004-09-07T22:01:00.000+08:00

We rode into town the other day,
just me and my daddy.
he said I'd finally reached that age,and I could ride next to him on a horse
that of course, was not quite as wild.

We heard a crowd of people shouting,
and so we stopped to find out why.
There was that man that my dad said he loved,
but today there was fear in his eyes.

So I said, "Daddy, why are they screaming?
Why are the faces of some of them beaming?
Why is He dressed in that bright purple robe?
I bet that crown hurts Him more than He shows.
Daddy please, can't you do something?
He looks as though He's gonna cry.
You said He was stronger than all of those guys;
Daddy, please tell me why.
Why does everyone want Him to die?"

Later that day, the sky grew cloudy,
and Daddy said I should go inside.
Somehow he knew things would get stormy.
Boy was he right, but I could not keep from wondering
if there was something he had to hide.

So after he left, I had to find out.
I was not afraid of getting lost.
So I followed the crowds to a hill
where I knew men had been killed,
and I heard a voice come from the cross.

And it said, "Father, why are they screaming?
Why are the faces of some of them beaming?
Why are they casting their lots for my robe?
This crown of thorns hurts me more than it shows.
Father please, can't you do something?
I know that You must hear my cry.
I thought I could handle a cross of this size.
Father, remind me why.
Why does everyone want me to die?
Oh, when will I understand why?"

My precious son, I hear them screaming.
I'm watching the face of the enemy beaming.
But soon I will clothe you in robes of my own.
Jesus, this hurts me much more than you know,
but this dark hour, I must do nothing,
though I've heard your unbearable cry.
The power in your blood destroys all of the lies;
soon you'll see past their unmerciful eyes.
Look, there below, see the child
trembling by her father's side.
Now I can tell you why...
she is why you must die.

God's Boxes

2004-09-07T21:15:00.000+08:00

I have in my hands two boxes,
Which God gave me to hold.
He said, "Put all your sorrows in the black box,
And all your joys in the gold."

I heeded His words, and in the two boxes,
Both my joys and sorrows I stored,
But though the gold became heavier each day,
The black was as light as before.

With curiosity, I opened the black,
I wanted to find out why,
And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole,
Which my sorrows had fallen out by.

I showed the hole to God, and mused,
"I wonder where my sorrows could be!"
He smiled a gentle smile and said,
"My child, they're all here with me."

I asked God, why He gave me the boxes,
Why the gold and the black with the hole?"
My child, the gold is for you to count your blessings,
The black is for you to let go."

Coloured Pages

2004-09-05T01:05:00.000+08:00

Life is a colour book. We start off a blank white page, and as we experience more things in life, more colours are added to it. When we feel happy, elated, peaceful, loving, full of hope, faith and trust, we're coloured with pastel colours of warmth; when we feel sad, dulled, disturbed, hated, depressed, disppointed and bitter, we become coloured with dark colours of cold.

Our life becomes colourful as we experience more 'colours of joy' - it becomes exciting. Have you ever tried mixing your paints when you were a kid? As you mix the blue, red, brown, green into one palette, what colour do they ultimately become? Dark brown, grey perhaps? It becomes totally black when you add in the black. Our heart is like this palette. If we choose to mix in the brown and grey with the other colours, even the pastel colours turn dull; if we mix in the black, every other colour is clouded out. Likewise, if we choose to harbour sadness, boredom, irritation, hatred, depression, disappointment and bitterness in our hearts, even the happiness, elation, peace, love, hope, faith and trust will be non-existent.

When our pages become too dark, maybe we should all start again with a blank white page of A4 size paper.

Some Say Love Is

2004-08-22T01:45:00.000+08:00

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed

Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you its only seed

It's the soul afraid of dreaming,
That never learns to dance
And the soul afraid of waking,
That never takes the chance

It's the one, who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying,
That never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
When you feel that love is only
For the lucky and the strong

Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose

My Happy Ending

2004-08-22T00:54:00.000+08:00

Let's talk this over
It's not like we're dead
Was it something I did?
Was it something You said?
Don't leave me hanging
In a city so dead
Held up up so high
On such a breakable thread

You were all the things I thought I knew
And I thought we could be

You were everything, everything that I wanted
We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it
And all the memories, so close to me, just fade away
All this time you were pretending
So much for my happy ending
Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh...

You've got your dumb friends
I know what they say
They tell you I'm difficult
But so are they
But they don't know me
Do they even know you?
All the things you hide from me
All the shit that you do

It's nice to know you were there
Thanks for acting like you cared
And making me feel like I was the only one
It's nice to know we had it all
Thanks for watching as I fall
And letting me know we were done

Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh...