Perseverance, perhaps?

I guess, when the opportunity for relationship is over, it should be a good indication to me to tell myself to move on.
Whether it means that the person that I like is now attached to someone, or that she is just not interested in me.

Either way works. So, I have to tell myself that I need to learn to move on.
And start socializing more. Though I know that the most difficult part of it is to break the barrier.

It will take a lot of hard work, I guess.
But it is necessary. Or else, I will remain in the same place again and again, without getting out.

Time to move on.
Pray that it will be so.  

The Allusion of Solitary Sanity

I guess, it is a strong part of me to remain within myself, to restrain from revealing what's in my mind very often when I am in the open setting. Although I tried very hard not to be contained by it, the truth is most of the time I am very perturbed by my evident effort to contain my loneliness.

My recent endeavors with friends back in universities revealed this albeit too much to ignore. I mean, I used to hang out with these people without restraints, just let our minds go wild with all those chats and stuff. I remembered talking till late night with a hostel-mate about music and life and all those things, while he smoked his Salem cigars, one at a time, while I just take my Spanish guitar (an old classical guitar of mine), strumming Em chords and varying scales along the way. Now when I see him (or any of such friends for that matter), I would brief through friendliness and just be mere courteous to talk with them, never deeper than close-buddy-talks. 

I feel sad as a mid-20s geek, that after 2 years, especially after the break up, I have lost much sense of hangout-moments anymore. And it took my recent trip back to a Christian Fellowship event that shook my sense of intimacy to further disturbance. 

Honestly, I have always wanted friendliness and openness in talking about things. To begin with, I don't come from a Christian upbringing. In fact, despite the Sunday School upbringing, I still was pretty much like every young kid born in the lower-middle class edges of slums - rough, young, wild and carefree. We will just run around, destroy whatever we see on the streets (those poor gardens our rich neighbors always took care of, very well - turned into potholes of "asteroid burns" thanks to those matchsticks and cigars burn by our older peers). Even in the later days, when I indulged in porn, football and cigars, it was because I was doing just like the rest of my peers in school and out of school. My church activities, then, was just pretty much a bystanders. 

Pretty much towards my 17th birthday, I grasped the irony of friendship that I used to embrace. These people who I thought I could count on the most turned out to be the worst bastards I had ever had. I remembered being betrayed by a girl I loved at first, which ended up being ridiculed, because I didn't have the looks and the guts to get one. I garnered up the strength to hate them, only to find myself being circled in the classroom, by the teacher as well, as the worst ingrate ever. Imbecility hasn't found its way into my life yet, but I felt pretty much as such since young - for trusting people too easily. 

After those hurts I was very wary on prying into a new friendship with people. By my 17th birthday, I learned to act different. I learned how to fake myself into the crowd to gain popularity and ownership. And sure enough, my hypocrisy helped me get through. In short time, when I graduated my high school and my pre-University years, I have sort-of gained some leverage on "friendships" and those fakes. I admit, when I admitted to the university, I pretty much carried that sense of protection with me. Many of my uni-friends are, unfortunately, a by-product of my willful act of hypocrisy. Towards the end of the year, most of the friends that I stick close to are rare, and a few are still contacting me. The relationship with my ex-girlfriend woke me up from the reality of this hypocritical life, and I felt that I need to stop this nonsense. And... here I am. 

When I looked at those years, I can only look with regrets. To be frank (and I think many people would have known about it), I am not proud of my school life. And I cannot look back with deep sense of nostalgia, just like every working adults who will occasionally drop by their mushy sentiments on school years. Sometimes, I regretted living those memories. Especially when there are days, when I saw my old friends on Facebook who added me, only to find myself boiling deep anger within me. I am still finding strength from within to forgive them, and I think it is going to be a daily process. Especially when their marriages are looming around the corner, and I happened to find myself heard about it without being invited (which to be honest is a better idea). And the fact that I am already at 25 with most of my friends having girlfriends/boyfriends of years doesn't make my life easier. 

I think, it took me recent year of depression to learn to understand myself better. Of course, good close buddies and my counselor helped a bit in understanding my plight and how much conflicted I am in my own struggle to live properly. There are times when I felt that because I couldn't forgive myself to forgive others, the deep hurt and resentments build with me overtime. The worst part of all is when I decide to confine myself in my own cell of thought thinking about life myself. And in that process, I took 2 years to get through. Of course, there are occasions of great, enriching meeting up with people (I think above all, a dinner with a girl that I like, and a few movie-outing with a close buddy really helped me), but those are probably not as frequent as my regular fits of lonely solitudes. 

So, in the midst of understanding myself, I learned to gradually realize the importance of treasuring true friendship and honor deep thoughts and friendly word-sparring. I thought that I have not been engaged deep enough of such discussions. That's mainly why I thought how shallow my mindset used to be. And how much the lack of honesty (especially when I reminiscence the friendships I used to have, with their 'clean-up-front-but-ugly-inner-worth' appeal, it is always quite detrimental to reflect on how much those affected me. 

Which is why, when I was brought into the Christian Fellowship gathering, I found myself to be overtly cautious in engaging in any discussion. I felt bad, especially when the two persons that I know very closely in the group tried very hard to make me feel at ease, especially when they know my personality. I somehow felt difficult to get back into the same 'hangouts' with these people again. And somehow the familiar pain of loneliness seems much more comfortable to me than to move into 'new boundaries' of catching up with my old friends again, to begin with.

A very good friend noted that while I can continue to put up my discernment on which friends to hang out with, the fact that I am trying to 'discern' so hardly made my opportunity to get to know people, understanding people hard. It took me 2 years to start to believe what he said is true. And I get to understand why the thought of getting a life companion keeps bugging in my head. After the break up, I hardly had times to mix with mix-genders, and I am so caught up with my own agendas, that on the basic level I am just mixing around with people I know to be always telling me, 'It's okay, I understand your pain" without getting to understanding people. But then, comes another side of explanation, in which people said that 'after the detachment, everything seems black and white - especially with people around you. You just don't feel interested in life anymore'. At the age of 25, I still appear like a teen, wanting people to hear what I am feeling, instead of acting mature to others, listening to people and understanding people. And most of the time, the black and white, ironically, becomes an evident backdrop of my description of the world. 

Despite the depressive motif I put up with, there are times when I appreciate the sadness and depressive turns of my life. My perspective changes (and I believe things will get much deeper/shallower - depending on how I live on) overtime, but this particular episode particular strike a melodic and inspiring tune. Yes, the tune is mellow, and it gets aggressively dark. But every movement, no matter how deep the tunnel of death may seem to be, there's always a seemingly light that allow your strained vision to see. And I often felt that I am not totally out of that deadly tunnel yet, but there's a glimpse of light shining that is leading the way. And it is especially encouraging that through the light's direction, I met some people along the way to walk with me. Some came with different perspective, so it is quite hard to explain what I have gone through. Some came with even worse predicament, that to them, the light meant more than just hope: it assures them that their depressive turns are ending soon. As for me, I know I am still recovering from my depression, but I began to embrace the depression with much sentiments. There were times that I am reminded that it was in the dark that I learnt things, not in the light. 

It is hard for me to enhance and extract these analogies into life storyboard here. My life has been through things that I find it better to share in person. However, deep down, I felt strongly the urge to speak it out, because I felt that alas, someone needs to understand why I struggle so hard to get away from self-abasement every weekend, only to find that excuse simply cut off by mere wish of self-fulfillment every Friday till Saturday evening. Yes, I do acknowledge too - I had someone in mind who I would like to ask to be my girlfriend, but with all these indecent habits taking place, I may compromise her, and in the end, we will have to make the decision to work things out in a havoc train without a train-guide, which will eventually ram into death; or we decide to jump off the train, only slimy muds across the jungle, and walk out of it after fighting against the beast of our lives. I already did the later in the past relationship I had. And I don't want to end up being on a train-bound to death without me working it out first. 

Somehow, this topic still doesn't seem correct. I was being told on recent notes too: that life is not meant to be taken all at once. We, in our minute details of the universe, have been admonished to 'not to worry'. We can only take one-step-at-a-time. Yes, we can multi-task, but how much can we go? When a person is running through emotional drainage, is there any fuel left to still work through life's difficulties, or even be a blessings towards those suffering to survive? Take one step at a time, buddy... that's what they say.

But how? It seems so overwhelming each day, and I don't think I can handle well, unless I ignored this battle and start looking elsewhere. Then, would I be subjected to struggle again, because I turned my blind eyes towards the threat of lust? Then again, even if I tried to do something else, for example getting involved in a Christian Fellowship's gathering: my mind would keep cramping onto the guilt of succumbing to lust. How do I maintain a good mind in discoursing with fellow Christians who yearned to be like-minded? Especially when my own mind is the one most contaminated?

Then another suggested that God looks at the heart of your battle. Your succumbing to lust every week is unforgivable. But He has forgiven you. He understood that you are just a dust, a flesh. Knowing that you give your all to fight against this battle mattered a lot to him. I cried hearing that, because that really is comfort to hear. But, what happened next? Immediately when I walk out, I am thinking about having sex with a friend that I know I can coax some words to get into. 

Hence, I chose... to confine my territory of conversation to within my own head, my own mind. Confine my social circle to within myself, the depths of my own mind. Create an imaginary friend so that I can chat, love, screw, play, chill with. Even if this imaginary friend of mine - if she can withstand as long as I live, would it made me feel better? If so, then I am totally confined to my own sanity, which will at one point of time becomes the nightmare of insanity. The saddest of all, I guess.

I know that deep down I don't want to remain as such for the rest of my life. I want to start getting help. I want to start doing myself a good favor by cutting off the internet, cutting off the media sources. But somehow, by doing that I am still short of community support, which at many times I am the one who chose not to be involved. My deeply introverted character disallows me to draw inner strength from people in a crowd, and considering the effort put to garner friendships that I have now, it is definitely another process which deserves a hard look at it. Even within my work circle, especially when there's no Christian friends that I know of, my mind is always guarded. There were occasions when I let loose a bit of my personal takes, and that surprisingly gave them a foothold into my personal life. Even then, I am still always on guard, not ready to tell people what I am thinking. I felt sad: even when I was with my ex-girlfriend, she didn't get to hear the inner most struggle of my heart. And to date: no one ever did. Not my parents, not my sister, not my friends, not the close ones. Only me. And hopefully God. 

The guarding of the heart. I dare not say it is a broken heart. But I know that the heart is guarded by a twisted mind. Unless... I don't know. Really. 

Conflicting Hypocrite or Hypocritical Conflicts?

Conflict or Hypocrisy,

Looking at life as it turns,
Meeting with circumstances as life comes.

Sometimes I wonder, often time confused,
The act to live properly, yet wrongfully.

Conflict or Hypocrisy,

I tried to live in the best that I want,
I end up doing the things that I know I shouldn't want.

I tried to get away from things I know hurt me,
I end up doing myself a disservice of proper living.

Conflict or Hypocrisy,

Sometimes, because of the burden, I choose to push away,
Thinking for a moment I could let that go, and enjoy.

Sometimes, however the pain comes back twice the shame,
Thinking the price I pay for conflicting my values.

Conflict or Hypocrisy,

I lay my life to live honestly, but I wound up being dishonest,
I walk around, threaded at boundaries of good and evil living.

I couldn't stay straight, and often times I enjoy those moments,
But every night I lay in my bed, guilt-ridden of my conscience.

Conflict or Hypocrisy, which will I choose? 

The Slow Thinker

I am generally not the type who would be able to give quick opinions that is well-crafted, deep and intellectual. Even if I do speak up, there will be 2 cases (with its frequency depending on how is the relationship between me and the person involved). One is when I will immediately step in my opinions, which is admittedly shallow minded, very idealistic and more often offending to hear. Second is when I will take, from an hour till a year (depending, like what I say, how close or important is the relationship) to reply or to give my opinions. 

In relation to the frequency, to make life simpler, I would just normally keep quiet and listen. I figure that by doing this, it is actually a process of 'getting to know the situation better'. However, behind that face lies a person being indecisive of his opinions. 

Sometimes I wonder - how much that silence actually truncated the friendships I have with people. In my workplace, people generally think that I am loud-spoken when with colleagues that I am comfortable with, but kept quiet when the opinions (or oppositions) count during important meeting. And although it has decreased in time, I still think I am like that.

The subtly also applies, in some ways, to my relationship with close ones (this, unfortunately minuses my parents and my sister at the moment. I hope to be able to reconcile this relationship with them, at least during their lifetime, not mine). My mentor, and a few of my close friends who belief in the same faith would also be the ones that do the talking. I would, in the meantime just sit and listen and hear the wisdom. There are times when I do speak up. Those, actually, are the time when I am in desperation to be heard. Like: a struggle in life, sex, temptation, lust, guilt, shame, anger, greed, and so on. Things are pretty much, in short, messed up when I decide to seek comfort and help.

Honestly, I am glad they gave me the avenue to. But sometimes, at the back of my head, I often wonder how indecisive I must have been, to take 2-3 months normally to decide and do it. Sometimes, I would wander in midriff thinking what can be the other ways of doing it, which end up not doing anything at all. 

I am not sure how does writing this down help, but I just want it to be off my chest, so that I won't dwell in it for too long. Far too long. But then again, I might be surprised later on to find that everyone does face this problem.

I'm not sure.

The Infrequent Blogger

I have to admit, the frequency for blogging has tremendously decreased in time. Probably because I have gotten past the age of technology (which, surprisingly, I am not enthusiastic in Facebook - though I have an account of my own, and Twitter - in which I haven't tried at all). And, probably because I have, subtly, grown past the age of rants and all those dramas. 

Of course, my gradual deterioration of my physical health tends to distract me from being so concentrated on my inner health. I used to believe, too, that by ranting I can get better and healthier. Apparently, the aging is not that kind. I don't know, maybe it is just me. I am just 26, after all. 

I have been thinking about the need for frequent visitation on blogs, friends and others for that matter - and I realize that all these hoo-hahs are actually part of the 'fad' thing. It is good to keep ourselves up to date with other people's lives and such, but most of the time we don't really get to talk about it, at least for me. 

I know of friends who maintained blogs, but I don't really get to talk to them when I met them face to face. Well, besides, those that I frequent are actually net friends, who I know I won't get to meet/chat with them directly. My introversion doesn't help as well - the tendency to want to draw strength from being alone/in a small company doesn't help too. Sometimes, I rather be voyeuristic on forums rather than being a participants. It's only when I have strong conviction on certain items - then I will decide to message the person directly (via mailbox or comment, but that's also quite rare).

So, having said this, I felt that my infrequent blogging has kind of disperse my social circle (net friends in particular). I don't get to interact much with people. I did quite often with my colleagues at Panasonic, but even so, they are not the ones I will stand in to talk about my personal life. Even if they invite, I know that there are a lot about me that I would rather share with intimate friends, rather than colleagues who wanted to know me better, genuinely. However genuine they may be, their quick advices based on their belief and their strong principles in life more often collide with mine. As much as I want to be open about life and the possibility of better/solid principles better than mine - I tend to think they are more concern in telling me what they feel, rather than being a listening ear. 

With that in mind, I just think that my other solace/comfort (which is on the web zone) seems to similarly deteriorate in terms of allowance for personal space endeavors. The dramas, definitely are lesser. Not different from when I was in my Uni-years, but less inclined to describe an event dramatically. Much more reflective, less concentration on events; more concentration on values, virtues, principles, and what's inside. Back to the basics, I learnt - from friends that I know along the way. 

This probably explained why I gradually moved from seeking too much comfort from trying to get more recognitions in what I write about to just being honest with myself and be more open to my struggles in life. And yes, me being a Christian sometimes allowed myself some narcissistic comments from blogspheres. Honestly, I faced fascism (quite a strong word, but that's true) from those who shared my belief, especially those of authority - but well, sometimes, it is those who know me the best that gave me the liberty to be who I know I should be. Till this day, I still find comfort in relating to them and in humility (I got to admit, it is difficult at times), I learned to apply their compassions and their embrace towards people that I know should benefit from this. 

Hence, I hope friends that I know of (be it recent or a while back; be it with friends in real life or net friends (equally real as well, they are of real human being using blogs, MSN, Gmail talk as their tools of communications); be it those who shared my belief or not) will understand my recent infrequent blogging habit, and even Facebook-ing. I think, for the most part, I am learning to experience life where I am, with struggles real into my face, temptations hitting me, and learn to deal with difficult friends and my own insanity at times when I have moments with friends. 

Whew... 

Luxury from Contentment, sprouted from Poverty

I remembered sitting onto the rattan-wound sofa, with 2 humble cushions in red and green squares. I had the micro Hi-Fi sandwiched between them, having the luxury to tune to the Gold 90.5 FM (Singapore's radio channel for classic hits), with the standing lamp on my left, and the newspaper on my lap. 

And the first article that gripped me is the article about the reality of making the world an eco-sensitive, more environmental-friendly effort being highly panned towards the well-to-do countries. The exuberant elaborative effort to transform the developed countries from industrial-oriented, with cities built in forms of skyscrapers - now being concentrated into green-ery- environment, and all the houses that are built with the concepts of eco-friendly... these are meant for the wealthy. The depiction of the poor countries, third world countries having no place to stay, despite the abundance of grasses and trees and all the 'biological environment' that we so hope to see in a much urban society - turn out to be actually harming their life because of the lack of sanitary and basic healthy living lifestyle. And the unbalanced world view of economic scale is not helping matters as well - in addition to much debates for decades on making a world a better place... doesn't seem to take any effect on improving these marginalized countries (especially when these countries continue to play as supporting roles to the first-world countries by producing goods, manpower resources, natural resources - and these people's wellbeing is not even considered.

And here I was, reading a newspaper having the time of my life relaxing through the music of 'Superstition' by Stevie Wonder on the radio channel, with so much comfort in the light of a quite luxurious environment (considering the decoration of the lightings, the soft, the Hi-Fi, and of course, the ambiance).

I am quite ashamed at that time reading the article. 

I often wonder, how much I took the luxury for granted and forgetting the fundamental part about living. 
We don't live to deliver our performance, get well and get 'wealth'.
We don't live to try to earn our effort through recognitions, acceptance and prestige.

After reading that article, after the feeling of remorse, I was flooded by emotions of gratitude.
Glad to have live in the present moment with comfort.
Glad to have friends who enjoy the company without the fear of sudden death or fatal illness.

I think, with that regards, I should never forget a lesson that is aptly applicable to what should be my reaction:

Never forget in the light what you have learned in the dark.
And never forget in the fortune what you have been given when you are poor.

Remember the people in the third world countries, and remember their predicament.
The things that you buy, most of them - came from the hard work of these poor workers working 7-day-shift. 

Champion for Fairer Human

Often I remember,
The other side of humanity,
Not of a greater and mightier being,
But more of the fairer, gentle sister.

At times when I think,
More likely they are sidelined,
Often they are in the publicity,
All for the wrong kind of limelight.

In reflecting our thought,
We often made them small,
Manipulate the inherent worth of beauty,
Overshadowing the true beauty of the soul.

How chauvinistic, how weird,
What us the masculine beast can do,
We let them wear little lesser, a little tighter,
To satisfy our lustrous hunger, they become our idol.

I, a member of the beasts,
Unashamed by my own flesh,
Let a poor girl be fed into my mind,
And hence become a fantasy easily retrieved from the shelf.

How easy, how convenient,
Poor girls become our toys to play,
Sad jerks like us hold them like our dolls,
Without a hit in conscience how we damage them. 

With sad reminiscence, 
With obvious grievance,
I look at myself, with immense remorse,
To now sincerely renounce, never to do it again.

But the moment I say it,
I know again and again I will do it,
And to realize that this is the beast in me,
What other way could I save myself from misery?

...

..

.

"Just remember, we are like you too, a gift in life,
We admire beauty, masculinity and love,
We don't wish for apathy, just respect,
Just so that you love us as yourself.

Just respect us like how you respect your love of life,
Just remember us like how you treasure life,
Just treat us like how you hold your life,
Just hold us like how you love life.

With respect, honor, gentleness, humility, dignity, love, faith... and self-control.
Aren't they what you desire to be a better person?"

.

..

...

So remember, friends,
A look in the pictures of skimpy girls,
A lust in the mind of having them within grabs,
Is more likely to happen if you keep repeating them like mental tapes.

I do this often, and I am sorry.
For this I paid my price, and till now I am single,
But in singleness I appreciate life more as a blessing,
And learn to treat the fairer humanity with appreciated dignity.

And please, don't learn this when you are married,
It will never happen, the dignity and respect for them,
The hunger starts from the mind, and to the mind should it ends,
Ask yourself first before you lust, what will happen if she is your sister? 

Admiration for a Movie Actress I know of not many who admired

I am pretty sure saying this is really an act of possible defiance, but I have admiration for good actresses and actors - especially those that who don't fake their faking acting. I knew of a lot of them, but there are a few that I know of that had to go through long ways to get there.

Sandra Bullock, as I know of, is one of them.

She may not be the best of actresses around (think about Julie Delpy, Cate Blanchett, Uma Thurman and such), but to me, she worked the hardest, and she is very down-to-earth about her acting career.

And honestly, it took her several years to get where she is, and to watch her movies with eventual appreciation of genuine-ness and honesty in portraying the character given to her - I think that is something I have grown to respect for.

I have been admiring her since The Net, (Speed is not my favorite actually, but her recent movies didn't do any better, except...) but the recent film 'The Blind Side' revealed the emotional, daily part of her that flows out from her, and it kinda made me felt proud of her. Of course, the story itself played a factor.

I found an article which I thought was pretty need. I have no say as to what was written, except to say: we Christians have been doing a bad job in representing who Christ actually is. And perhaps it is time to re-evaluate why do we subscribe to what we believe in.

Actors and Actresses on their views of 'The Blind Side': Read Sandra Bullock on her views of the character she portrayed.

Perhaps we should think it about it. I recommend you watching the movie as well... oh yeah, and try to understand the Junior High and the College lifestyle in Memphis, or America for that matter. I don't think I know even an ounce of the culture, but well, sufficient enough to relate to the background of the movie. Or try the book as well by Michael Lewis.

:). Pardon the advertisement on Sandra Bullock.

 

My last performance for NUS

My last performance for NUS

Consider this gig as my last for NUS, and my best for life. But seriously, I want to outpace this, I know that now I can do better than this gig.

By the way, I am the one at the centre. The bassist.

Insecurity - The Worst Weapon Against You

Insecurity - The Worst Weapon Against You

I always thought that it is easy to say, "I love you", without having to consider the consequences. I thought that fairy tales' love stories are pretty much straight forward. You don't have to think too much, just go ahead and be yourself, and start telling the girl, "My dear, I love you."

How wrong I am.

When I initially confess to her, it was not easy. Millions of things running through my head.

What if I am not good enough for her?

What if she thinks that I am not a person she could trust forever with?

What if I practiced infidelity when we are together?

When those thoughts came to mind, I realized that I might not be able to give my all to her after all.

But somehow, something hits my mind.

If I gonna keep on going through these motions of thoughts, I will never be able to move on.

That prompted me to tell her - I want to give her my all, if I could do it to the best.

Funny how just one thought in a million can change my mind so fast. It is as if after killing all your brain cells with so many unnecessary things, a simple statement like that could impulsively burn the bridges that you have been trying very hard to cross, and all you know that you need to do is to cross over that bridge.

And I wondered why, until I see her face yesterday.

I don't know what prompted me to say that, "With you beside me, I don't feel the need to see other people at all." Either that could be just a spur of a moment of love, or I truly believe in it.

Because till yesterday, I thought that there are other pretty girls out there as well.

She felt very insecure. I felt insecure as well.

I felt insecure because until last night, I still don't believe that I have gotten myself a great girlfriend. I still can't believe that she loves me as much, if not more than me. I still can't believe how sweet she treated me, and that so much love is given to me.

I thought that chasing people who I am not sure whether or not they like me is more believable, but perhaps I may have entertained that thought a lot, and it affected her.

She felt insecure when I start ogling at other girls, or start talking about other girls.

I realized how stupid I was.

Isn't it obvious that she loves you that much?

So why you still don't believe it?

Somehow this reminds me of my faith in Christianity. You know, to have Someone who loves you no matter what you do doesn't sound right. Somehow to believe in someone who loves you for the things that you do sound more believable than that.

And I initially rejected that idea also. How can I believe in that kind of Jesus, who claimed to have died for me because He loves me, when I never even met Him?

But somehow - that seemed to spark something.

From young, no one really tells me that he/she loves me for who I am. I am as a person. I am as a guy. I am as a blessed baby born into this world. But no one tells me that.

And with this kind of background, to have someone loving you no matter who you are, what you do - even though it sounds horrendously scandalous, it somehow matters to me.

I read about history, read about the validity, read about His life when He was on earth.

And I realized He meant what He said when He said He really loves everyone.

People of his days, there are hierarchy when it comes to social class. The hierarchy has religious upbringing denoted as the rank. And you could put it in this manner - Jesus was supposed to be on relatively high rank, given His statutes, His knowledge of those writings left by prophets.

But, what surprised me was that He doesn't even care if there's this thing called social class. To Him, everyone is the same. Because He loves everyone, and everyone has the same benefits.

That's why for Him to mix around with prostitute, tax collectors and physically sick - that kind of caring He showed to those people - they are scandalous.

He can still maintain His integrity as being a good person (never have sex with prostitute, never ask the tax collectors to give some money to Him, never tell the sick people to advertise His healing power), and yet being a friend, even to the extend as a lover to many.

That love, when it came to me last night, just broke my heart.

I just realized that I have a living example, who is a girl who desire to know me more.

You see, I never believed in fate before. I do believe though that there could be coincidence, but those happen because there might be something that God wants to tell me. But never fate.

But recently, my mentor kept on reminding me that the way I define fate makes me feel that it is not real.

I never believed in fate, because I thought that it was bullshit to me. I never had any opportunity to have the kind that just flows well to me, rightfully to me I mean.

So - being a Christian is never what I consider to be fate. I thought that I have to earn it to become one.

My mentor corrected me. He told me - we are chosen to be pre-destined to meet up with God. And that also applies for relationship as well.

So when she is sitting besides me in that MRT rail, when I start to believe that it is really fate that brought both of us together, I hastily took her hand, hold it very close, and never want to let go.

I just want to feel like this forever, but saying it sound very 'cliche'.

So I just look at her face. She asked me what.

I just. I don't know.

But I want to feel like that forever. That fate - that makes me believe in God, the Christian God - that fate, makes me believe in her.

Thanks J.

She's the one

She's the one when you can feel the chemistry soon as you meet her.

She's the one who you know you can immediately click.

Not just the fact that her physical appearance instantly attract you.

Not just the fact that her presentation in front of you instantly left you breathless.

But there is this bond that could immediately attract.

Like a magnet that stick north pole to south pole.

Like a chocolate that blends well in a vanilla float.

Like a bass groove that clicks well with a drum beat.

Like a guitar with a great amplifier, when both compliment each other.

Like a girl and a guy, who immediately there's a sense of right timing.

As if the girl has been waiting for the guy, and the guy has been longing for the girl.

It just so happen that the two suddenly match each other well.

Though both came from very different background.

Though both came from very sad and broken relationships.

Though both came from very unusual circumstances.

Though both came from very unexpected upbringing.

Though both have different preferences in things they like.

Though both have different inclination towards something the other may not like.

Somehow there's this sense of togetherness.

As if one could say there's no tomorrow without the other half.

And even so - Romeo and Juliet, even on the forbidden love, still manage to be in love.

Forbidden in the sense that it is not of the kind of love Christian doctrine encourages.

It is not the kind of love that Christian should encourage himself to a non-Christian girl.

Both came from very different background, both came from very different belief in God.

One believes in his life that He is the savior, and Jesus died for His sins. Because of this, he readily gives his whole life for Him.

The other believes that there is a God, but she felt that it is not fair to believe in One true savior, and not sure if she readily wants to commit to another. Her previous relationships have Christian tarnishing the image of God and His demonstration of love for the people.

So the two, despite very different beliefs, came together liking each other a lot.

Both desire each other a lot, but both want not this to end quickly, just like any other relationships.

This time there's a silent resolution - that both really go together the path of romance - til death do us part.

Till death do us part.

And he decided, after one sleepless night and the other - he decides.

If this relationship is really meant for what He wants, it would be up to Him.

If this relationship is not what He wants, he rather Him to take it off.

He asked for deliverance, and submission in totality towards Him - the Lord who saves him daily from the wretchedness of his sins.

So here's the prayer:

"Lord, please, if it is the true relationship that You have planned for, please teach me how to give her the best respect I could, and not only forgo her past, but also embrace her as a person I could be with forever during my time while I am alive. But Lord, if it is not of what You want, take this cup of suffering of mine, take it off, bring it away from me, so that I won't be tempted to be led into the path of unrighteousness. I don't want to leave You again. I don't want to Lord. Please, Lord I surrender her totally to You. Because I love You. You who has died for my sin, Jesus. Amen."

Dedication to Her, who loves me just like how I love her, but we decide to remain friend because we realize we are going too strong too fast, and decide to take things slowly, so that we know and learn each other well - and embrace the bad habits and the good habits in the same manner.

Tired Man

Tired Man

If ever was I tired, please do wake me up.

But just in case,

don't hurt my face by slapping it hard,
don't hurt my hands by shaking it hard,
don't hurt my stomach by hitting it hard,
don't hurt my legs by pulling it hard,

For what I really need to know is that the dream that I had,
Wasn't meant for just a simple reflection, but a seeming revelation,

That if reading a blog has squandered all your impression in me,
And just by reading it your disgust outpace your respect in me,

Then, please - tell me to stop writing things so personal that may hurt you
Tell me to stop writing things from my own point of view

So that when you refresh your browser again,
What you see if not a disillusion man writing his blog,
But a refreshed man upholding Him in prayer.

Tell me then dream, that what I dream is really just a dream,
And that it is not really what had happened.

And to the one who have read and feel disgusted about me.
And to those who have now started to hate me for being a loser.

I am sorry.

For I know that in reality I am a sinful nature being.
But it was of God that matters,
It ain't about me.

It was the Glory of what He worked in me.
It was the Glory of what He had transformed in me
It was the Glory of what mere instrument (me) He had used to extend His Kingdom
It was the Glory of what He could do even though situation were bleak like no one cares

It was this Love that Glorifies Him. So if you are still offended, and decided to have no part of me in your life...

I am sorry.

WHO DO YOU LOVE?

What's the feeling that I got, that can't control and tame the emotion.

What's the feeling that I got, that couldn't distinguish the rights from the wrongs.

What's the feeling that I got, that couldn't comprehend the speed of my heartbeat.

What's the feeling that I got, that couldn't calm and make necessary judgment.

What's the feeling that I got, that can't determine the love of my life.

And...

What's the feeling that I got, that make me realized that I probably really love someone now?

Could it be that you, the person that I have been thinking all night:

You are the one I could envision staying together for most of the time.

Despite differences in place, time, and mindset, but are we still one with our love?

Despite differences in languages, communication and interest, but are we still one with our love?

You are the one I could envision having lunch, dinner and breakfast together.

Despite differences in our preferences for food, but are we still agreeing to the fact that we are together?

Despite differences in our preferences for lunch location, but are we still agreeing on the setting of the place, that romantically brings us together?

You are the one I could envision waking up in the morning, with you by my side.

Naked or not, it doesn't bother me. The fact that I could see your face first of all in the morning greatly ease my heart.

Awake or not, it doesn't bother me. The fact that I could read the Bible thanking God to have you by my side greatly comfort me.

Listening or not, it doesn't bother me. The fact that I could play my favorite tune, or improvise a song on a guitar, or a nearby piano greatly soothes me.

You are the one I could envision making love to, with much passion.

Despite our differences in experience on physical intimacy, our minds desire much of each of us, being in constant contact.

Despite our differences in physical contact frequency, our hearts desire the same - our partner enjoy the moment like how Adam and Eve had their first intercourse.

You are the one I could envision having child, and building a family.

Despite our differences in amount of children we want, yet we have the same expectation that God desires for His children as well.

Despite our differences in deciding genders, yet we know that till that day when the baby is born, we are more than happy to be able to settle together as a family.

Despite our differences in teaching the child, yet we know that it is our mutual responsibility to bring up a child of God and serving fully to Him, at any age.

You are the one I know I would save my first for.

Whether or not it is the first time that I kiss you.

Whether or not it is the first time that we pray together in a quiet room, in the bedroom together.

Whether or not it is the first time that we could choose our laundries and our groceries together - or even shopping.

Whether or not it is the first time we could play duet whole day without distractions.

Whether or not it is the first time we actually had our constant physical contacts throughout the day.

Whether or not it is the first time we admire each other's physical, emotional, and spiritual nakedness before Him.

Whether or not it is the first time we have our first physical intercourse.

Whether or not it is our first time spending every of our time together.

Whether or not it is our first time.

Because I love you, and I would want to marry you.

A love poem, dedicated to the people who are in love, and ready for further commitment. - by Ren

E N L I G H T E N E D

I never thought that such calling from God would be actually called to be coincidental.

In fact, I used to believe that when there are a lot of similar coincidence, I always concluded that it was God trying to tell me something. Especially when the coincidence happened like every moment I do something.

But thanks to this subject in my university that I took on the previous semester that I have just finished, it actually questioned the coincidence regularity. Could it be the fact that I actually anticipate it, and even though to normal person's view that is not coincidental, my mind could relate the otherwise?

A stark question, but the more I think of it, the more absurd is the question.

For example - how would you think of coincidental? Unless you were in my shoe, you would not see the coincidental right? So when you say it is actually an anticipated consequences by me, shouldn't a coincidence be the same for you? We may have different occurence, but you have your different view on coincidence compared to mine, and how could I judge your coincidence?

I did not question my lecturer on this, but somehow, by coincidence - because I thought of the question during the class, and somehow, someone manage to ask this.

I would account it as premonition, but the answer was totally unexpected.

"You could be right, son. Coincidence is subjective, and it really boils down to how a person think of it as. I think of it as an anticipated outcome, and unless the coincidence stretches beyond my thinking reasoning, I would dub it as just a normal anticipated outcome."

It seemed to me - he conceded defeat. Or was it just me?

You see, for me - the coincidence is such a wonderful yet deadly thing. Or rather, it is a double edged knife. It could be exhilirating if you manage to see the person you like on a place you least expect him/her to be, but it would be awkward if you see him/her with his/her partner together. For example, I mean.

But either way, the point is clear - I believe that when coincidences happen, it happened for a reason, and I attributed to God's intervention.

I wasn't intending to go out yesterday, because I was quite tired. A trip from Malaysia back to Singapore is not something I intend it to be, because I would rather stay in Singapore and do nothing. But a duty has to be done, and I need to go back, visit my parents, and my buddies - before going back to school to deal with the administration, and the work.

The night time, I decide to kill off the time by doing some shopping. I was intending to get a punkish cap - those baseball hat with funky type of design I meant. So of all the choices that come to me - I chose to go westward to Boon Lay - Jurong Point instead.

Whilst on my way - I was very much tired - something kept on attacking my mind. It is with regards with my sexual habits.

How come, whenever I come back to Malaysia, I felt distasteful about those masturbation and thoughts of such, but when I reached Singapore, there is no such hindrance.

Furthermore, I kept on thinking, trying to do alot of reasonings (thanks to the subjects that I took) thinking could there be a deeper longing that I felt I want more - more than just those habitual things that I have been doing so far?

A chance came up to me when I reached a LIFE bookshop. I haven't visited the Christian bookstore for a long time.

The first thing that struck me when I start entering is - 'Turn off your MP3 player." I heard this voice.

It was by God. This is the first time that I heard such prompting.

It has been a while. So I guess I must heed it. You could also say - it was my gut feeling that told me I need to switch off my MP3 player. But anyway, I went in. The first book that caught my attention is the book 'The Samson Syndrome". I wasn't very much interested, so I just skim through the synopsis.

"Read the page that you would open to."

Being surprised by that sudden voice, I decided to open.

Lo and behold, the page that I read, was talking about dealing with lust.

I was quite troubled, since I was thinking about what actually bothers my sexual drive so much. And now I saw it coming. Initially I thought, it could be just a normal coincidence. I don't intend it to be.

I put the book back, thinking of other books that I could use for my spiritual growth. I saw another book, a book by John Piper - I forgot the title, something about Living out a Christian life.

"Open again."

I did not read the synopsis, since the calling prompted me. And again, it is about lust control.

I put the book back. I was horrified by such occurence.

You see, whenever I go to a bookstore (you guys may be surprised but I like to visit bookstores), I would always handpick books to read, and at least I will read like one chapter just to get the feel of how the author writes. And, it has never been the case whereby, I will open a random page, and happen to read across the same thing through different books. If there are specific books that I am looking for, I would definitely browse through similar pages, but that is after I skimmed through the content, and find what I am looking for.

This is an exception.

I distrust the coincidence. I try another book again.

Another book on Christian leadership. I randomly open a page.

"Stop at it. Read the page".

Again, it is about lust.

That was a time when I start to consult God, "God, You got something to tell me? Let me hear."

"Use the money you have to buy the books that I will prompt you to buy."

I was attracted by the book The Samson Syndrome by Mark Atteberry.

"Don't hestitate."

I took the book, and then I look around, see if there are any other book. God did not say any other things much, so I choose another book that has got to do with Christian living and how to be a good brother to other people (the title is somewhere along that line).

I put the book in my room after I was done with the shopping, and because of the tireness, I decided to sleep and read the book the next day.

And I chose to read this morning while eating breakfast. I shouldn't have done it.

As I read, I was so traumatised by how true the things that he wrote that spoke alot about me. I was already fazed by how much times I tried to be rebellious, and having a distorted mind, not knowing that I actually enjoyed it rather than trying to stick to what God wants me to do. No wonder He prompted me that day to read it.

I will continue reading it - while also continuing my other businesses... and update about the book soon. It captivated me more than Max Lucado and John Bevere so far.

The Virginia Tech Massacre

I don't really know what to say on this.

Frankly speaking, I felt torn apart.

He shared so many things that I always linger upon.

Of the strongest impact - is the part where he chose to make himself becoming like a martyr to sacrifice himself to wake the 'world' of their treatment against those of less-fortunate or lower class people in US, or at least in his area.

Be honest with my feeling - that is how I strongly felt when I saw the world in that manner many years ago, when I was still a delinquent.

I was an outcast, rejected by most of the people in the community. Some saw me as a weirdo, some saw me as a deviant, but all didn't like me.

And, when he chose this method to wake the world up, I could only emphatically relate that emotion, but not his solution. The death of many, and to put it as a warning, and a sacrificial mean to support his ideals...
____________________________________________________________

I cried a little after knowing the news. In fact, initially I was saddened not just for the sake of the victim, but for his action as well. I am a Christian no doubt, and that will remain - but I felt pity for him as well. He was lost in his 'ideals, and justice'. He wanted a world that is not of oppressing the weak, but to glorify them. He wanted attentions to them, and better respect for 'dorks, geeks, and weaklings'.

I used to be the outcast, the dork, and the 'not-worth-living-organism'. I know how hard it is to feel that way. But to choose that method... I could only feel horribly sad, and cry for it.

May the victims found comfort in God through this hard time, be it the victims of the shooters, or the relatives of those killed.

And, may the rest of the world - who still live on each day as if it is all about themselves, and forget about the less-fortunate people - please take a new look at these people. They need your help, and I believe that God wants something from you as well.

34: Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.
35: For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,
36: I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'

37: Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?
38: When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?
39: When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'

40: The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'
Remember, whatever you did, you do it to Jesus too.

E R O S

I used to like the idea a lot.

Having a girlfriend besides me while I am studying. She just sit there, doing her reading. Occasionally, she would gaze up at her laptop, checking on her messenger to see who messages her. At times, she would run through some forums that chat about the latest fashion news online.

After a few while, noticing that she has been given a dreamy stare, she shifts her sitting to move next to me. A simple touch on my shoulder, and I would know the signal. I will then turn back to my studies, with right hand a pen readily available for writing, and a left hand holding something so dear to me, I would never want to let go, even though it is an assurance that "I am here, don't worry my dear."

Such a scenario seems ideal, but that has always been something I yearn for many years. I guess I could include decade if it wasn't the fact that I started ogling that thought while I was in Secondary 2 (14 years old).

For such a simplicity motion, denotes a profound meaning in my life.

Why such simplicity? Why can't I choose something more 'dramatic'? Think about it, I was hellbent, thanks to my dramatic past-life of being a juvenile delinquent, before God gave me a personal ticket towards heaven. Yeah, personal ticket. He came to specifically and personally bring us to Himself.

But why simple thing like this?

The first meaning that I learn from the word 'Love' is not the love I learn about Jesus Christ. I learn the word as 'eros', the love for a female counterpart. Romantic love.

But, I am dramatic. Not because I want to, but I am scared to be committed. I watched soap opera since young. I know how romantic love is like. In the beginning, you must confess your feeling to her. In the end, you have to be committed to a girl. Else, there is no other way that she would know that you like her.

I can't do both.

I am very traumatized to confess my feeling to a girl I like. It is a fear to me. What if it doesn't work out? What if she tell you blatantly, "You are not my type. Go away."

My Secondary 2's confession to a girl turns out that way. And I was humiliated in the entire school for being 'a frog trying to love a princess'.

I am worried about commitment. Commitment means you have to stick to her for a long period of time. In a proper covenant, you should stick 'til death does us apart.

I always screwed my commitment, because I don't want to be chained with norms. I don't like conformity, although I realize most of the time I would do it unconsciously. I like being a rebel. I like that kind of attention.

So feeling in love should not be the right thing for me to do.

But why, do I still entertain these fantasy?

I asked God about it.

I really did. I wasn't just wanting to play around my feeling and think, "Perhaps it is just my hormone. 'K, time to study now."

It was disturbing to me.

He guided me. Not in a way I wanted it to be, but in a way that showed His Glory a lot.

Through the days, many of my inner struggles, and my bitterness in things that don't work out - turns better and strengthened me along the way. And, I believe, romantic love, to Him, is also part of the plan.

That is why, the night, when I garnered enough courage to confess to her, and told her that I like her, it meant a lot to me.

It happened quite abruptly. I initially wanted to just do chats and rabbling about how my project failed this semester, and how I was disappointed with the way things turned out.

Either it was me, or God's plan, that our conversation somehow manage to go towards relationship. And either it was just me, or God's plan, that I could actually said these,

"You know something? I was thinking that I am not ready for a love commitment with a girl, 'cause I think I still got a lot of inner struggles, as my cell group leader justifies for me. But I can't deny this feeling I have for ... ... ... this girl I like. It was you."

It sound very awkward, because she was actually prepared to listen to my rabbling, not my confession. But she handled off very well.

A claim that she chose to have relationship after she is 21 is a sound, justifiable, and respectable. She didn't threw me off, and she didn't play mind game with me. A direct, honest answer.

And that night, after everything, I came back to my room. I sat on my bed, being silent. I looked out the window.

First time in my life - I felt normal. Nothing spectacular.

It is as if - romantic love wasn't the thing that stir me towards euphoria anymore. It is as if, like how I feel when I got rather good grades for my term assignments. It is as if I save my money enough to buy an Ipod Nano. It is as if I have finished my term assignments using my best effort, and on time.

Normal. Typical feeling.

It shows one thing - romantic love is not the thing that satisfy me. It also shows another - only God's love is quenchable to me. I can only recall the time when I keep on coming back to Christ, and I always felt so overwhelmed, that I can only breakdown and submit to God. I felt that I horribly need God.

Or at times when I play music as a musician, I would stammer or just jerk suddenly, because to me, music is like in my soul. It felt so great, it felt so ecstatic I couldn't help stay up all night, practicing whatever songs, just jamming, and I felt happy, glad, and beyond words of happiness.

So, what do I learn? Simple.

Leave it to God. If she is not for me, so be it. And it seems that - she is not for me.

But who knows? God knows.

Amen.

R E L A T E

I have a prayer.

"God, please continue to guide me."

I have a prayer.

"God, I need Your comfort."

I have a prayer.

"God, I want Your presence in my life."

I have a prayer.

"God, let me continue to glorify You, in anyway I can."

I have a prayer.

"God, give me understanding on what happened throughout the days."

I have a prayer.

"God, so that I could reflect and be glad that God You made me whole again."

One last prayer.

"And so, God, please tell me what exactly happened?"

_________________________________________________

Clock ticking. Fan wheels spinning round. Soft-spoken nonchalant sound echoed in his mind. He couldn't figure out what exactly was that day. The last he remembered, it was after a major disappointment he faced earlier.

"Why does it happened?" still remained vivid in his mind. All the rejection of what he understood about the nature of life started to unfold as he witnessed himself the wrath of destruction.

As soon as he could count one second, from victory to failure - it is apparent that when misfortune struck, not a single gesture could match the haste. Not even the speed of light.

He remembered looking upon his project, earnest looking at what had happened. His companion stayed by his side, looking at the sudden disaster struck. Both were flabbergasted. Both response, however, were not the same.

"Did you do anything wrong on it?" was the first phrase that haunted him, even till the day he woke up after much sleeps.

The phrase took a great effect in bringing him to reality as well. Soon as he was brought from flashbacks to reality, he held on a long sigh. Nothing much could be done.

"It's over. Let's not think about it, 'k?"

His words betrayed his feelings. Not that it is his first time experiencing such trauma. There were many a times when he was holding onto the thin rope of fire that was tied between the furnace of fire, and the green pastures - after the near fatal accident nearly crippled his legs and abdomen. He, too, could never forget the time when he was charging against a Malay counterpart, with a firewood in his hand. The quick response from his enemy nearly blinded him, had not for his quick reaction. And how many could relate the time when he nearly overturned his '79 Datsun, when he tried drifting in the mountain pass, only to see himself nearly went down the hill, had it not for the cliff that stood strong, one inch away from death? What about the time when he witness the goat of Satan nearly spinned his sword onto our young boy's head, when the ritual of Anton LaVey commemorate?

But why a mere project traumatise him as much as his near-death accident?

He looked to God. With a silent prayer, he asked.

"God, I sacrifice myself so much for You. For the 2 months, I lack sleep because I trusted in Your comfort. For 2 months, I sacrifice most of my leisure time just for the dedication of this project, because we want to see Your Glory in this project. For 2 months, I maintained very hard to keep my temper at times when I nearly gone mad because of the frustrations I had with my groupmates, because we all want to see God's work in us. So why these? You even allow simultaneous and spontaneous conversation with me. Lord, You see my faith grew so strong after these events, so why all these? Why You fail my project?"

No reply.

Nothing.

He brushed it off. Opening his eyes, he looked upon the sky.

He had always liked to have his bed positioned near the window. The scenic view of the sky, with clouds hanging around the plain royal blue texture, always amazed him. Most of the time, he could see such wonderful view. That day, however, reflected his mood.

Greyish cloud, surrrounded by many darker ones, covering the once plain blue texture he always yearned for.

"Is this what You are trying to say to me?"

He had always took pride in the weather. For many a times, whenever he felt triumphant, the sky always shone the ray of light, emerging sun surfacing through the horizon, similar to that of the rising hope given to him. A greyish, cloudy signifying rain reflects his heart on heavy note, in-tuning with his sadness and sorrow. He would always vouch that it was near accurate for the weather to reflect his feeling and his walk with God.

But today, he never gave it any thought about it. For he had a thing in mind, burning so strong that he would rather not talk about it.

"Why did God betray me?"

It burned so much, and he was angered by that. Friends came and console him. Some even questioned him, thinking he himself might not put in much effort himself. Maybe you didn't sacrifice as much as what God expects from you, they said. He rationalised. It could be true, but it is also true that those sacrifices he put in weighed much more compared to those 'small things'.

His anger continued to burn. He couldn't find an explanation to this. His confusion let him to believe that what he knew of Christ was wrong. Christ wasn't merciful after all, he rationalised. He was just trying to put Himself in a good light.

And so, that anger continued the day. It was a Sunday.

Soon as he woke up, he decided to do something that he would normally do that would angered God: surf porn and violent movies.

He won't even hestitate. Satan continued to burn fire of anguish and hatred in him against God. He was bitter. No one could stop him.

But a soft side of him prompted him with a soft-spoken voice.

"It's time to go to church."

It was always a habit to him to go to church every Sunday. Not that the habit did not surface with that burning desire to seek God, but the habit sometimes overrule his faith. Most of the times, he went to church for the sake of going only. It was an obligation, rather than a joy.

Sensing his soft-spoken angel tucking his shirt, he decided to end the day of evil, with a climatic solo act. It had been a tough road for him, because he was feeling guilty on the same time when he did it. Nevertheless he didn't care anymore. He just want to show God how much He betrayed him.

His ride to the church was melancholic. A song played throughout his mind. The song that spoke of where God was throughout his time of need. Where was God in all these.

I cant remember anything
Cant tell if this is true or dream
Deep down inside I feel to scream
This terrible silence stops me

Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please god,wake me
Now the world is gone Im just one
Oh god,help me hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God help me

Metallica - One (Excerpt)

Had it not be for the song, he won't have to be reminded of his time when he cried while playing the piano rendition himself the day after the judgment. The reminiscence of pain and suffering, brought him back to tears on the ride. Had it not for his carefulness to not shed his tears, the passengers would have thought that he had been insane.

"God, whatever it is, even if You are silent, I am not going to say anything until You show me what I will learn today. After that we could settle the score later."

A statement that never required a reply turned out having one.

"I will, son."

It bewildered him a while. For 2 days, there weren't any response from this big-shot. Now He gave a nod, a pat, and a reply just when he never expected it. What was going on?

He entered the church feeling bewildered, and yet sad. Nothing could explain, but nothing could lift up his feeling either. He was overwhelmed by God's response, and yet he refused to believe what God has spoken to him.

"Hey, how have you been? By the way, thanks for taking over me for playing the guitar during the praise and worship session last week."

Startled, he looked to his left. A familiar face lifted up his spirit a lil'.

"Hey. No prob."

Silence.

"Are you okay?"

Silence.

"We will talk later what happened, alright?"

Silence.

Awkward. Eerie silence. He could only remain silent and be quiet.

At that moment, he felt like weeping. He could feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, even though he knew he had made God angry an hour ago.

That overwhelming presence nearly knocked him into a trance.

He couldn't even fathom what happened around him, just that he subconsciously react to the lithurgy, which started off with a praise and worship session.

All he could remembered was that he felt that he was in a different place.

He closed his eyes, to see clearly where he was in.

It was still dark hour, and he saw himself walking along with some other people. He realised that they were not of the same race and ethnic that he knew of what he was. All he could recall was that his companions were all in robes and silks. It was in a forest-like garden. Everything was dark.

He stood aside to pray. In that moment, flashes of imaginary forms of motions came to him. He saw himself marrying a lady, and having children, and starting a family. He was glad about the picture, for it comforted him, and yet, he suddenly realised of what had come to his mind.

He was tempted. Not to take up the will that God wanted of Him.

And then, with his mouth, and from his bottom of his heart, he declared.

"Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." (Luke 22:42)

He stood there. And he felt something in his heart. A moment of peace. Then the moment of distilled silence. Then comes the moment of anguish. Then, the moment of pain. Then the moment of feeling betrayed.

He remembered about someone agreeing to betray him. He stood up, and look at his disciples. And from there he realised what he had been feeling.

Just on that moment, he was taken again. A drastic change from distilled silence to roar of noise, shouted almost in unison. He could barely grasped the meaning of what they said, but he recalled what happened during the event. His heavily laden back reminded him of the pain he felt. Excruciating pain brought him to realise of the fact that he was actually: carrying a cross.

His head hurted alot too much to think, but he knew what happened around. Echoes from citizens declaring "Crucify Him!" ringing in his head. His mind, worked the otherwise.

"See, don't You see these sufferings are not worth it? Just ask Your angels to sweep all these people. After all, as fast as You could destroy them, so could You to make some more."

He kept quiet. Nothing had been said. For He remembered the prayer he prayed in the Mount of Olives. And, he remembered it, being the second person joining the relation of the feelings and subconsciousness.

The moment came swiftly to the point of time when he suddenly saw himself lifted up in the sky. His excruciating pain never left him. The lethargic expression never forsake him. His hope and promise, however did.

He looked down. There were people dressing in nicely dressed robes, decorated with the signature of Judaism. He remembered how they used to come and asked for 'wisdom' from him, and now they were down there, mocking at him.

"He saved others, but He can't save himself. Let this Christ, this King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe." (Mark 15:31 - 32)

Another thought then came upon to him.

"See, what they said is partially true. You can save Yourself. So, do like what they said - come down the cross. Let them see how magnificent You are."

He remained silent. That moment - he felt a strong, ugly presence.

Millions of anguish thoughts, and experience all grabs to him. All seems to move as swiftly as it was. Soon, he could see himself watching pornography, killing children, committing adultery, cheating citizens, being selfish, being immoral, sacrificing innocents for paganistic rituals, mocking the people who believed in Him. His burden was over-casting his own feeling. He could no longer felt pure. He felt dirty, guilty, ugly and worst - sinful. And that moment, he felt a presence diminishing from him. That point of time he declared:

"Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?) - (Mark 15:33)

That swift moment suddenly brought him back to real life. Again, as he opened his eyes, he could see the worship leader singing. The worship band playing. People all around him singing praise to God.

That moment, he wept.

And that's where he heard a whisper.

"Son, go on. Sing praise!"

He was startled, flabbergasted.

"God, what is all these about?"

"You felt what my Son felt. But that doesn't mean He is not righteous. He felt forsaken. But He also know that His promise and comfort is in Me. So should you."

"You are a giant of faith through these days. You have walked so closely with Me, that I have granted You spontaneous access to talking with Me. And I am proud of what have become of You."

"I felt your pain, but you also should know that these teach you a vital lesson. I have never forgotten about you. I am always there. Just as how Jesus felt at the end of that turmoils, which you feel earlier on, so should you to feel that I am always nearby. I don't talk to you, because I know what you actually want. You want a listener, not an advisor. You want a comforter, not to rant at Me. You are mad not at Me, but at how it ended. But what matters to Me is you, not your effort."

He remembered the song that rang along after God's declaration:

Hosanna, hosanna
You are the God Who saves us,
Worthy of all our praises

Hosanna, hosanna
Come have Your way among us
We welcome You here Lord Jesus

Paul Baloche, Brenton Brown - Hosanna

As the song continued ringing, his tears never stopped flowing. As the praises continued to be liften up, and so, his spirit and his faith is liften up as well.

Alas, he prayed a short prayer.

"God, forgive me for making you mad. Please continued to work in my life, so that I can continue to be the giant of faith that you declared for me."

"Amen, son."

_____________________________________________________

After the day, we visited Sam's gramma. Unfortunately, Sam's gramma passed away around 2 pm. That point of time reminded me about the revelation that God gave me about my father. I too wept as much as I did during the church service (I thought I was a bit too emotional), and so, Jay tried to comfort me, and continue to encourage me as well.

I really thanked Joel, Jian Ming, Jay and the rest of the cell-group members (including Gilbert and Linus) who were there to comfort both Sam and his family. Although Jay specifically ministered to me after knowing about Sam's gramma demise, I think that probably I felt as strongly sorrowful as the rest of the members because I was relating to my own case - who is my father. The day ended quite alright, because the sorrow felt was because of the demise of a gramma, but deep in our heart, we all know, that because Sam's gramma is a devout Methodist, she will be met with joy and gladness in the heaven's gate. Pray that during these period of time - God comforts the family of Sam, and put in the joy among them as well, as they remembered who is in control.

And alas, I thanked God for putting His trust in me, even though I was the one who betrayed Him. And for the friends who comforted me - thanks be to God that they did a righteous part in reminding me of Your Grace. And lastly, thank God for the inspiration of writing this short story that reflects Your Grace, Your Mercy, and Your LOVE!

Blessed be THY NAME!

B L E S S E D - B E - T H E - N A M E!

It has been a while since I actually have the time to blog whatever comes to my mind. In fact, it has really been a long time since I manage to blog something out of this.

I have a few things to share.

In the dream on the night - something very vivid comes to my mind. Initially I thought of it as something normal. However, it takes on a bleak introduction.

It introduces a place back in my hometown, but with an obvious very developed situated urban area. I was still the same age, but being brought to a slightly different era. My hometown friends who were my classmates, they all seem older than me - granted that they have their own work in different kind of institution, yet still remaining at the same place. I found out, much later, that I was actually staying at my hometown for the vacation, and that I was now doing mainstream music with my band members.

Even though it seemed to be nice - knowing that most of what I want to do came through, the starting of the dream was, in fact, something bad. I did not see my father at all throughout the dream, and I was already wondering why. Even amusing is the fact that I never asked my mother, who apparently still work - although her hairstyling saloon seemed to upgrade to a much more modern state, and she looked so much younger, despite her age at 65 (my mom is currently 60). My sister was teaching in Singapore in my dream, and she was earning quite well, still based in my hometown during weekends.

The typical family, but the presence of my father is not there.

Everything is melancholic, although the question of where my father is still boiling in my thought in my dream. Such an irony, but that is how I thought I felt.

The story progressed nonchalantly from waking up in the morning, then driving my family (without my father) to my mom's saloon, where I will just stay in my studio (I realised that I have converted one of the supposed study room into my own jamming studio - playing my guitar, and devoting my time to God there. My sister will occasionally come out and help with book-keeping (which I also do when it is my shift) for my mom. Otherwise, she will stay inside the saloon, preparing lunch and watching TV while inside. Then comes a time when I meet my hometown friends. Most of them are married, left me alone, who apparently seems to find difficulty still resolving my issue between finding a commitment and having friendship. We chatted gladly, although there are times where I just felt I couldn't fit into the crowd. Well, that is what will happen if you stay in Singapore, and mix with your co-horts there for too long.

It was a short visit from my friends, since they are not interested in the kind of music I did with my band, so I am basically left alone afterwards, helping with my mom occasionally when my sister is not free (she needs to mark her students' assignments). So most of the time, what I did was those that I still normally does in real life.

The point of climax come when it reaches night time. After dinner (I came back from soccer in the sport field nearby, taken a bath, and ate dinner with them) my mom received a call. She was quite jovial initially when she heard the phone call, but her facial expression turned horror after she hung up.

She answered the question that had been bugging me for a long time.

"We need to go to the hospital now. Dad - might not live long."

I was flabbergasted. I couldn't say anything.

At the age of 65?

No. That wasn't the question.

Why? What happened?

"It is the old age thing, son. Come, lets go now."

Millions of questions bogged my mind as I drive them to the hospital. It is not the local hospital (I was a lil' surprised that I know the way - though it took 1 hour to reach there). Nobody spoke to try to answer my questions, but I know that it is not the right time to ask.

But among of those millions that came at once to my thought - one prominent thought came to me - is my family saved?

I did not notice my mom having her Buddist altar, and I didn't notice my sister having her Bible with her, but I sensed that my family is still not yet saved. Even so, I just kept quiet all the way. I dared not say anything bad that can cause discomfort.

The question, as if it comes soon as I made the point to want to find it answered, becomes solved when I saw my dad on his hospital bed.

I did not have time to notice the surroundings, but it seemed that it is a good hospital. Nicely air-con, great facilities. But those are not the issue.

My father still looked jovial and happy, despite my mom declaration that he might not live long. In fact, he didn't look different from the real life that I know of him. He still spoke normally. Like his usual self. I don't understand why, and what happened.

After a few word of my mom asking him how he has been, and things like that, my father requested that he and me have a private talk, before we all meet together again.

The private talk - that is the main theme. And the crucial part of my life.

"Son. I am sorry."

"Why?"

"I heard from sister. I did not know you suffer so much because of me."

"Dad, no. I have become a better person now. I have lived right now."

"No. I did not know I cause you so much emotional pains and psychological torture so far. Please forgive me son."

"Dad. Please don't"

I was on the brink of breaking down, when my Dad said this.

"Son. I am not worth to be a Christian. And I can't. How could I have done such a thing to you in your entire life?"

"Dad... no..."

I kept on pleading my dad, that he was wrong. God made it for good. But I just can't say it. I was heartbroken. Really heartbroken. I cried.

"Son... I want you to know that you have become a so much better person. I really am proud of you. So please continue to be who you are right now, even though Mom don't like the idea of you being a Christian."

"You know, Son. When I was young, I study in a Christian school. I was taught alot about the salvation through Jesus Christ, and what is really good about being a Christian. But I am never able to tell God directly that I need to be saved, because I don't think I am worth His salvation."

"But you - even though you were so similar to me when I was young, in fact worse, you are still able to give to God your life. And for that - I am proud of you. But I cannot become a Christian. I will never be."

At this point of time - he asked me to bring the family back in.

"Dad. Please believe in God. He really can cleanse and forgive you. He never wants to condemn you. He came to save you. He faced what you faced."

He kept quiet. I can sense him coming close to death. He insisted on telling me to bring them in.

I reluctantly brought them in. Dad just said a few words. He never showed alot of affection to my sis and my Mom (there is still concern and care), just that we all just remain with Dad for some times, before he finally said, "I need to go. My time is near. Goodbye."

His last glance pointed at me. With a smiley face, he looked at me - and close his eyes.

My family cried nevertheless, but I cried the most. Even Mom was quite surprised at my reaction, knowing that I used to harbour hatred to my Dad.

This point of time, I woke up suddenly, with tears in my face. It was horrendous feeling.

"God, why can't I save my father?" WHY?

The thought of this alone, really make me heartbroken. So much that even as I struggle to finish writing this blog, I can't help crying over it.

The impact of this dream, or rather a vision, made me cried bitterly for one hour - just blaming myself about this.

I tried so hard to ask God why He gave me such dream. Does it serves as a warning, or is it a revelation?

I remembered my hatred for my Dad since young, when I was in juvenile - even to a point of thinking about killing him myself, and that reminiscence itself struck me even worse.

But God - He really ... He never gave up on me.

He answered me and comforted me through the morning devotion. And again - I cried when I read the Bible. Although it has frequently become my habit of reading the Bible, and felt very emotional whenever I grasped the meaning, the message on that day alone - really fits in the bill of what I have been trying to find.

Hebrew 2:16 - 18

16: For surely, it is not angels he helps, but Abraham's descendants.
17: For this reason he had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people.
18: Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.

I just broke down. Literally.

Why can't I said that to Dad? Why...

That day, when I think about it, I just feel so overwhelmed, that I prayed that God, may it be that this message serves as my important reminder that one day - one fine day - my family's salvation could be saved. Especially my dad. He walked the same footsteps as I did, although I was much more worse compared to him. And I want him to know, God will always work in us, and GOD STILL LOVES US NO MATTER WHO WE ARE, AND WHAT WE HAVE DONE.

Please, for the rest of the people who read this: believe me - God really loves you. He really loves you.

We have not much time left. I really need to tell my family about God. They really need to know His Love, and His grace. And so should you.

Great God

I was in a dilemma, and my heart was in the state of chaos, when the Lord intervened in my heart.

"Ren Kang, be still. Listen to Me."

I tried very hard to still my heart. Deadlines after deadlines come to play. My projects' neverending seems relentless.

"I know you have been in so much sufferings in studies. But now be still, and listen to Me."

This is one of the few rare times that I felt God's peace to me. And with that peace, I manage to finish my hardware design and my Java project. Though that seems like a small matter, but that seems big to me, considering the fact that I have been struggling for one week plus to do them.

I am still many many miles from completion, but I thanked God for His mercy for me.

Tribute to also Lynn and Jocie for talking with me. You guys are God's gracious friends for me. Thanks to Ivy too, for listening to me yesterday night of my plea, and send me those encouraging songs.

Breaking The Habit

I read an article from the Wikipedia - on this song called 'Breaking The Habit'. It speaks about a person trying to break his drug/substance/sexual abuse, and the resolution seems bleak. What actually strikes me is that it speaks of Chester Bennington, the screaming vocalist for Linkin Park, of his past struggles with his sexual and drug abuse since young. It is said that he can't perform live for that song until recently because the thought of the song always brought him to tears.

Such impact depicts something: song that speaks the heart of the matter - that itself, could break the heart of the person.