Little children’s books

When I was a child, my mother took me to the local public library. My elder siblings and I would nestle ourselves in little plastic chairs after arming ourselves with our favourite books from the old metal shelves. Running bare footed on the discoloured worn out carpets, we searched for familiar drawings that depicted the stories we knew best. I always got the one with a family of rabbits that had endless amount of things to busy themselves with in their endlessly big fluffy family. There were bunny rabbits drawn all over the book in different parts of their underground home, carrots and toys and items drawn in compactly within each turn of page. I loved how it made my eyes move all over the place, consistently and amusingly amazed every time I went through the little book. It was a little book and yet it was warm and endearing all at once.

Who’d knew then that 15 years down the road, those moments would mean so much to me. Memories which try as I may, are among the precious few that surface when I recall my childhood.

I love my mother for bringing us to the little library whenever she could.

It’s a blur what time does when it transcends your mind from its existence way back to now. What seems so big now meant so little to pint-sized me, then.

I sat by the pool at my friend’s new place of stay, one of these past few days. I looked up between the tall apartment buildings, concrete structure rising high above me with the back drop of bright blue skies. The breeze that whistled its way between the towering blocks was cool while I felt the sun behind me gently beating down the back of my neck. The gurgling waters of la piscine made for light white noise as I sat on the pebbled bench and closed my eyes, taking it all in.

It’s amazing what a little wind and white noise can do for the soul. It’s a miracle I feel whole just sitting there, being there with my God.

I’ve had that final chat with a guy who took me one semester to know and to know I didn’t need.
I’ve also had a honest talk with someone, finally, to clear up some past misunderstandings.

That one person I thought was my ideal, we’re great friends and I’ve wished him well –with his pursuit.

These are days I walk on with a smile on my face, because I know I’ve been through and got through all these things. While, yes ofcourse there’s still many things to happen. But I’m not going to give in, I’m going to keep choosing God and trusting him –the true author and perfector of my faith. The one who went with my mum and I to the library, the one who made me remember my love for books when I was a teenager and the one who is with me now as I pursue a degree in Anthropology and Sociology so I can be a writer with content.

Someday I’ll be a writer.
Someday I’ll meet a man after God’s heart, whom I’d share my life with.

And someday I’ll take our kids to the library too.
We’d read many, many books. Many times of the same books, whatever it is I am looking forward to it.

lei

Star-dusted promises

Beholding your beauty is all that I long for,
To worship you Jesus is my soul’s desire,
For this very heart you have shaped for your pleasure,
Purposed to live your name high.

Here in surrender, in pure adoration,
I enter your courts with an offering of praise,
I am your servant come to bring you glory,
As it is fit for the work of your hand. 

I remember singing these words worry-free, easy and simply as I sat swinging under the stars during camp. All that I knew was looking up to the moon and knowing God was with me, all around me was Him.

He still is.

But why is my heart stirring, and why can’t I sleep?

I’ve made a decision with you during those nights. To continue spending my time just with you. No distractions, focused and not giving away my heart to just any.

Its finally the day I have dreaded. The day I brave myself to face that face which will crumple as I end things for good. Ugh the queasiness from the thought.

The piano plays in my head keeping me awake and aware of the melodramatic scene about to play out. While at the background I hear evidently victory percussion beats through trumpet blasts, triumphant music of relief that beckons to be heard when I’m done and through with it. Unexcitedness of tooth extraction proportions.

I don’t know how to prepare myself.

Hence I’ll go with honesty. And lower my head, because I was not right -I was and am not ready. It isn’t the right person. It isn’t, but I won’t treat him any less of a brother God has allowed me to cross paths with.
Here’s hoping to sleep.
lei

Cliché as Clarity

I’ve been away for the past 3 weeks in Camp Cameron.
Here’s how being dragged off to camp in the middle of my precious 2 month break, was like.
It was serene.
I got to get away from the places I lost things of myself.
I got to know God better.
We woke up to early mornings in quietness with Jesus through his spoken word.
We learnt alot about the Bible, God’s word that spoke in a raw and nonstrategic manner. It was unorchestrated, word-filled Bible study sessions. And I just felt sad as God did when the Israelites forgot his goodness time after time, and angry as God did when they prostituted themselves to other gods and disappointed as God did when his own people rejected him as king.
I made an incredible new friend. And we shared about many things in our life.
There were outings and family sharings, games and such.
Still the best for me, was time I had to go for walks and sit on the swings. Stand in the cold air, breathing in the wind that breezed through my being. I got to spend time with God.
Its been such a while that we had so much time to access to. I could sit on the swings early in the morning before the crack of light, look up to the moon talking to you and it would be fine.

I lost little parts of myself when I invested in people I thought would remain important in my life. I thought the investments would flourish and I would gain from the little seeds I sowed in them. I didn’t think each time I watered it and weeded its surroundings, I was giving out of my own.
When the plant eventually died, along with it, I lost parts of myself.
I went to camp a little empty and initially there were moments I just sat quietly, not knowing what to say.
What is there to say that you do not know already? There is nothing to say. I feel nothing.

A few nights in and the session of redeeming relationships with God arrived.
I cried my heart out. Of the foolishness I displayed, before God and men. Rather, towards God with men.
Words from Bible studies rang in my head, Oh, how can I give you up, Israel? How can I let you go? (Hosea 11:8a)
I’m no Israelite, but I am God’s child whom he has chosen. And here I was, constantly being distracted.
3am sobriety calls have warned me, but time again I forget to keep my first love.

The first week to me was about basking in God’s presence, giving myself wholly to him -family scars, eczema, self-image issues and all.
We did deal with alot of family related stuff, but I felt over the years I’ve cried so many tears and am in progress (albeit, slow) in being an instrument of reversal in my family and allowing scars to heal.
More often than not, as the second week rolled by, my relationship with God was at the forefront in my mind. To me, everything else was a result of my main foundation in life.
Yet, I did still take time to look deeper into things that were brought up.
By the third week, I felt like I found a connection. I’m uncertain about its plausibility, but its a possibility. My past to how I am in the present and making choices for the future. It could be my parent’s marriage, fears as a child, also having eczema that have led me to be someone who desires to share my life yet ironically being really quite skeptical and not easily convinced. I distrust the idea of a man liking me for actually who I am, on the inside. I’m not easily convinced you are it for me. And I am so afraid of making a commitment with the wrong person.

Wow this note is becoming quite drawn out and detailed.

By the end of all of it, the third week, I was confirmed by a message from a guest speaker. Mr Goh, an elderly man who felt God’s promptings to change his message on both nights of his session -confirmed to me what I felt I had to do for my life too. It’s really simple, to live an authentic Christian life. To be smitten by God’s word, to listen more and talk less in prayer, to put God first. To keep my eyes on Him, and allow the treasures of his word enrich, rebuke, rebuild and reveal his purposes for my life. In that, allowing all fears and worries to leave one by one. To begin each day with Him, bringing Him through what I do daily. Spending time with Him because its what I want to do. Because if He’s the most important person in my life, then He should be the person I spend most of my time with.

I’m trying to bring this back into my life back in reality, and out from that secluded haven.
Stop running around the same darn bush, stop wandering in the wilderness.
For heaven’s sake, and quite literally, choose.

¹⁴ Now therefore fear the Lord and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness. Put away the gods that your fathers served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. ¹⁵ And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. (Joshua 24:14-15)

At the beginning of camp, we were asked what we expected to receive by the end of it.
I’d say I did receive my clarity.

clar·i·ty

ˈklerədē/

the quality of being certain or definite.
Middle English (in the sense ‘glory, divine splendor’): from Latin claritas, from clarus ‘clear.’

lei