Thanks for following my blog
Thanks for supporting my decision to commit to what most would think was a huge mistake
Thanks for supporting me and sending me words of encouragements
Thanks for all the times we've laughed together
Thanks for listening to my rants and complaints
Thanks for giving me the music that I write
I want to write about the music that I write.
Because a lot of the "normal" people out there
Ask me how I do manage to compose.
Where do I start?
I'll start at the beginning.
I start with the beat of the heart.
Its not an abstract idea, really.
I see you, sitting, walking, standing there
On a moonlit night, with the wind in your hair.
In a crowded place, in the cafe
Sipping your drink as you see me
See you sipping that drink.
A restaurant, over Japanese noodles
Your eyes are brown, I hope I didn't stare
As your lips move with a rhythm that I cannot ignore
I think I've fallen in love
with the pure art of beauty that is you
and then it begins, something from deep inside sings.
Amazing, the words flow like poetry
Explaining the strange chemistry
That I can never describe to you face to face
Then comes the music to the beat of my heart
It goes faster and faster and then it stops
Drop that bass for me, you've got me hooked
And then the audience claps. The unwritten song is sung.
You never knew that the phantoms shed tears
It was a masterpiece. But its a song that I'll keep to myself.
Because the world isn't ready. Not for this melody.
Nor for you and for me and its a tragedy.
But you just sit there unknowing, you leave.
The rest is really history, sometimes your song,
Our song, stays and never depart from me
And when I write it down, I compose.
So, ladies and gentlemen, that is how
a Black song is done.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Snow Firefly
Here's to something I've not done before.
A birthday post and nothing more.
So there's a friend called Snow Firefly
For her, another year has gone by.
She's kinda odd, doesn't celebrate years,
This sad, for so many, the cheers
For old Firefly did ring out today
So I'd better find something awesome to say.
At first I promised a surprise
Came out empty, tears in my eyes
Then eureka, why not wishes in prose;
Or better yet, a poem, who knows?
So, have a Happy Birthday, Firefly Snow,
May sunshine be with you where'er you go
May you always find a shelter from rain;
May you always have a seat on the train.
And having thus wished you a Blessed Birthday
I'm running out of things I'm going to say.
Do always smile, just don't look so solemn.
I hope you're surprised as I've finished my poem.
A birthday post and nothing more.
So there's a friend called Snow Firefly
For her, another year has gone by.
She's kinda odd, doesn't celebrate years,
This sad, for so many, the cheers
For old Firefly did ring out today
So I'd better find something awesome to say.
At first I promised a surprise
Came out empty, tears in my eyes
Then eureka, why not wishes in prose;
Or better yet, a poem, who knows?
So, have a Happy Birthday, Firefly Snow,
May sunshine be with you where'er you go
May you always find a shelter from rain;
May you always have a seat on the train.
And having thus wished you a Blessed Birthday
I'm running out of things I'm going to say.
Do always smile, just don't look so solemn.
I hope you're surprised as I've finished my poem.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Alea Iacta Est
He stood at the bank of the red river.
Behind him marched more than five thousand grizzled veterans.
In front of him stood the regal city of the seven hills.
How long has it already been, years?
After all the things he made his men do,
They deserved this rest, go back to their farms
See their children, a little grown,
Who before they left dangled upon their knee
And hold their wives, the love of their youths
But not yet. They will cross, they will march
And draw sword upon their own countrymen
More blood must be spilled before peace is secured.
He let the soil fall through his fingers,
Home, home at last, and yet I bring the fire and sword.
Flee, Pompey, before my Thirteenth.
I regret I cannot bring more men,
But this is what I have, and all I need.
Alea Iacta Est, for the die has been cast.
His men cheered, and the horses surged forward
The future godking looked into the distant shore
And Caesar crossed the Rubicon.
Behind him marched more than five thousand grizzled veterans.
In front of him stood the regal city of the seven hills.
How long has it already been, years?
After all the things he made his men do,
They deserved this rest, go back to their farms
See their children, a little grown,
Who before they left dangled upon their knee
And hold their wives, the love of their youths
But not yet. They will cross, they will march
And draw sword upon their own countrymen
More blood must be spilled before peace is secured.
He let the soil fall through his fingers,
Home, home at last, and yet I bring the fire and sword.
Flee, Pompey, before my Thirteenth.
I regret I cannot bring more men,
But this is what I have, and all I need.
Alea Iacta Est, for the die has been cast.
His men cheered, and the horses surged forward
The future godking looked into the distant shore
And Caesar crossed the Rubicon.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Seine
In the movie Now You See Me,
they depict a lovely scene where people lock a padlock
on the river Seine and throw away the keys.
I have no Seine to leave my silent cries at,
no padlocks to lock into a fence forever,
and I'm definitely not about to litter by throwing my keys away.
Thanksgiving has just passed for the Americans (Well, north Americans)
And I know that though we don't celebrate it here in Malaysia,
I thank God that I have someone I trust to whom I will never lie.
It is because of that someone that I don't feel the need to litter the rivers of France
Not only that, I am glad for the conversation we shared.
Witty exchanges are a rare treasure these days.
And now I've come to the point
where I finally found something I cannot reveal.
So what then do I do to unburden myself?
I don't. I simply don't.
they depict a lovely scene where people lock a padlock
on the river Seine and throw away the keys.
I have no Seine to leave my silent cries at,
no padlocks to lock into a fence forever,
and I'm definitely not about to litter by throwing my keys away.
Thanksgiving has just passed for the Americans (Well, north Americans)
And I know that though we don't celebrate it here in Malaysia,
I thank God that I have someone I trust to whom I will never lie.
It is because of that someone that I don't feel the need to litter the rivers of France
Not only that, I am glad for the conversation we shared.
Witty exchanges are a rare treasure these days.
And now I've come to the point
where I finally found something I cannot reveal.
So what then do I do to unburden myself?
I don't. I simply don't.
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Fearless
I'm tired of talking about love for now.
Let today's lecture be on the topic of fear.
Just the other day I had lunch with a lady
(yes, apparently I still manage to find time to go out to lunch with an attractive female)
and one of the things discussed is the difficulty of acquiring a job after university.
Mark ye, undergrads fear unemployment.
And then there's phobias-
Fear of the dark, of spiders, of heights,
of clowns, of zombies, of zombie clowns (yikes!)
The stuff that keep us when we were kids up at night-
Monsters under the bed, creepy crawlies under the sheets.
Then we got older, we became afraid-
of death, someone close to us dying,
of love, and being rejected,
of laughter, directed by others at us.
We became afraid to live
And then we fear becoming irrelevant, of coming out behind
Of being friendless, of being ignored, of being forgotten.
Personally, you know what I am afraid of the most?
I'm afraid I'll never be good enough to live up to my calling.
I'm afraid I'll never achieve my life's purpose.
I'm afraid I'll fall and be unable to finish my race.
Being called into ministry is a comfort and yet a pressure.
You all worry about making a good impression with your employer,
Spare a thought for me! My employer is none other than God Himself!
Now imagine how it feels like if I failed at my job.
You know the one other fear I harboured?
God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone, let Us then make for him a helper"
As of now, I've been roaming the earth without a helper,
And I feel so incomplete. And my fear is that I shall never find a suitable helper for me.
Now THAT'S Scary!
But God did not give us a spirit of fearfulness, but one of power, love and sound judgement.
Challenge yourself today, and be fearless.
I will accomplish my mission,
I will find my helper one day,
I will be fearless.
Let today's lecture be on the topic of fear.
Just the other day I had lunch with a lady
(yes, apparently I still manage to find time to go out to lunch with an attractive female)
and one of the things discussed is the difficulty of acquiring a job after university.
Mark ye, undergrads fear unemployment.
And then there's phobias-
Fear of the dark, of spiders, of heights,
of clowns, of zombies, of zombie clowns (yikes!)
The stuff that keep us when we were kids up at night-
Monsters under the bed, creepy crawlies under the sheets.
Then we got older, we became afraid-
of death, someone close to us dying,
of love, and being rejected,
of laughter, directed by others at us.
We became afraid to live
And then we fear becoming irrelevant, of coming out behind
Of being friendless, of being ignored, of being forgotten.
Personally, you know what I am afraid of the most?
I'm afraid I'll never be good enough to live up to my calling.
I'm afraid I'll never achieve my life's purpose.
I'm afraid I'll fall and be unable to finish my race.
Being called into ministry is a comfort and yet a pressure.
You all worry about making a good impression with your employer,
Spare a thought for me! My employer is none other than God Himself!
Now imagine how it feels like if I failed at my job.
You know the one other fear I harboured?
God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone, let Us then make for him a helper"
As of now, I've been roaming the earth without a helper,
And I feel so incomplete. And my fear is that I shall never find a suitable helper for me.
Now THAT'S Scary!
But God did not give us a spirit of fearfulness, but one of power, love and sound judgement.
Challenge yourself today, and be fearless.
I will accomplish my mission,
I will find my helper one day,
I will be fearless.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Gutwrenching
I'm not one to be anxious over the simple things in life.
Most things, I've let them float by me.
Except, y'know, maybe the occasional super-typhoon
Something like the one that's probably hitting the Philippines as I type.
Yeah, things like that, I get terribly anxious about.
Because someone I really love is there,
And God forbid if anything should happen to her-
I would go down to the grave in sorrow.
She's the sweetest soul I know, and when we conversed it brought me great joy.
So dear super heroine of Roxas city, don't you ever let anything happen to you.
God said to not be anxious. But in prayer and supplication I bring my prayers for you to my Lord.
Hanna of the Philippines, I commit you, and your nation to the Lord.
He who calmed the storm on the lake of Galilee will not let the storm overwhelm you.
Join me in prayer, dear readers, for Philippines, for its beautiful islands.
PS. Nikki, Ryza, Michelle, Ruzzel, and all my other Phili friends, you are not forgotten.
I was just using Hanna as an example. ;)
Most things, I've let them float by me.
Except, y'know, maybe the occasional super-typhoon
Something like the one that's probably hitting the Philippines as I type.
Yeah, things like that, I get terribly anxious about.
Because someone I really love is there,
And God forbid if anything should happen to her-
I would go down to the grave in sorrow.
She's the sweetest soul I know, and when we conversed it brought me great joy.
So dear super heroine of Roxas city, don't you ever let anything happen to you.
God said to not be anxious. But in prayer and supplication I bring my prayers for you to my Lord.
Hanna of the Philippines, I commit you, and your nation to the Lord.
He who calmed the storm on the lake of Galilee will not let the storm overwhelm you.
Join me in prayer, dear readers, for Philippines, for its beautiful islands.
PS. Nikki, Ryza, Michelle, Ruzzel, and all my other Phili friends, you are not forgotten.
I was just using Hanna as an example. ;)
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
The Restorer of Broken Dreams
He is known by many names
And each time He reveals Himself to His children,
He gains another name as a monument of His goodness.
He showed Himself as a self-sufficient supplier of needs- The I Am.
Or when He established His Lordship and dominion- Jehovah
And in each specific need He's met, we've added suffixes-
Jireh, Rapha, Nissi, Kanna,
Mekaddeskum, Shalom, Shaphat,
Saboath, Raah, Hosenu,
Gibbor. Tsidkenu, Shammah, etc.
Or as a master over all- Adonai
Or in His lofty greatness, the Most High- El-Elyon
Throughout the generations, we have known Him by the many names that we've encountered through Him.
And when He finally came down to us to accomplish His purpose in Person,
We knew Him as Yeshua, or an Anglicized Jesus.
To me, He is my Restorer of Broken Dreams.
Ever had something you really wanted to achieve, however impossible or improbable,
And you had to give it up, shelve it away, and never think of it again?
What if I told you that even if you've discarded it,
There is someone out there who cares about your dreams?
Psalm 20:4
May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.
All your plans succeed?
Whoa, now there's something that you have to understand as well.
Now that we're on clear on this wish-granting topic, let me testify (whoa, heavy word, I know)
And each time He reveals Himself to His children,
He gains another name as a monument of His goodness.
He showed Himself as a self-sufficient supplier of needs- The I Am.
Or when He established His Lordship and dominion- Jehovah
And in each specific need He's met, we've added suffixes-
Jireh, Rapha, Nissi, Kanna,
Mekaddeskum, Shalom, Shaphat,
Saboath, Raah, Hosenu,
Gibbor. Tsidkenu, Shammah, etc.
Or as a master over all- Adonai
Or in His lofty greatness, the Most High- El-Elyon
Throughout the generations, we have known Him by the many names that we've encountered through Him.
And when He finally came down to us to accomplish His purpose in Person,
We knew Him as Yeshua, or an Anglicized Jesus.
To me, He is my Restorer of Broken Dreams.
Ever had something you really wanted to achieve, however impossible or improbable,
And you had to give it up, shelve it away, and never think of it again?
What if I told you that even if you've discarded it,
There is someone out there who cares about your dreams?
Psalm 20:4
May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.
All your plans succeed?
ALL?
Are we to take this figuratively or shall we step out in faith and take Him at His word?
God will fulfill the desires of those who fear Him, who delights in Him.
But yes yes, you say, even if we meet those 2 criteria,
Then why doesn't He give me a million dollars?
James 4:3
When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.
When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.
We're in a court of law, and I'm called to the witness stand, and I bear witness of God's faithfulness
And I acknowledge Him as the Restorer of Broken Dreams.
I was imprinted in my youth with the desire to serve in fulltime ministry,
The work of the early mission pioneers have called out to me like a siren song.
But, think realistically, I was told, abandon that dream, I did.
And here I am today, in a strange (to me) and marvellous twist of fate/destiny/God's perfect will,
I'm doing what I've only could dream about 6 months ago. My broken dream was restored.
Now that's old news. Let me tell you of a newer one.
My first guitar. 10 years ago, I slipped and she saved my life, but in exchange for her own.
Distraught, I couldn't bring myself to bury her, and so shelved her away in the storeroom,
Never to sing for me again. Another Broken Dream.
This week as you read this, know that there is a God in heaven who restores your broken dream.
An angel of a man, offered to restore my guitar for free. And thus through him, God salvaged yet another broken dream.
Reader, do not hesitate. What does God say?
Matthew 18:19
"Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven.
"Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven.
Matthew 7:8
For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
Onward.
The Missions month is over. Now November is upon us.
The opening of the new satellite church is in less than 2 weeks' time.
Things are heating up in intensity. Preparations to be made.
Pray for us. Our worship team is stretched to its seams.
We are experiencing the birth pangs of a ministry.
Will we stand the tests of time, or will we be rebuked by our Lord?
The church is a living breathing extension of God on earth.
We are His ambassadors, and I hope I'm up to the calling I've been given.
I want to write today about... love.
Yes, again.
And no, I promise you there will not be the same emo posts as before.
What is love? Love to me is incomprehensible.
For God is love. And if we cannot hope to comprehend the infinite God
How then can we ever fully understand the concept of Love?
Perfect love drives out fear, and why is that?
Perfect love is selfless. And fear is born of selfishness.
We are afraid of being harmed, but out of love,
A mother will endanger her own life to preserve the life of her child's.
And yet that is not perfect love. Not yet.
Perfect love is this : God who didn't need to die for us, did.
The unnecessary sacrifice. Why us?
Sure, we were flawed. We were wrong.
Not from the start, we were made in perfection.
But we fell, and in our temptation we have condemned ourselves.
He should've started over. Wipe us out. Begin anew.
But He didn't. He couldn't. It was against His nature.
Because His nature is Love. And perfect love never gives up.
Even in His judgement, He saved a remnant.
There always were survivors, because out of Love
He could not fully destroy His beloved.
Ah, now you may think to yourselves.
This is blasphemy. God is all-Powerful, all-Knowing.
How can I dictate what God could or couldn't do.
True, I would never deign to limit a limitless God.
But in His love, His character is based on Love,
And whatever He does, it is Love.
The opening of the new satellite church is in less than 2 weeks' time.
Things are heating up in intensity. Preparations to be made.
Pray for us. Our worship team is stretched to its seams.
We are experiencing the birth pangs of a ministry.
Will we stand the tests of time, or will we be rebuked by our Lord?
The church is a living breathing extension of God on earth.
We are His ambassadors, and I hope I'm up to the calling I've been given.
I want to write today about... love.
Yes, again.
And no, I promise you there will not be the same emo posts as before.
What is love? Love to me is incomprehensible.
For God is love. And if we cannot hope to comprehend the infinite God
How then can we ever fully understand the concept of Love?
Perfect love drives out fear, and why is that?
Perfect love is selfless. And fear is born of selfishness.
We are afraid of being harmed, but out of love,
A mother will endanger her own life to preserve the life of her child's.
And yet that is not perfect love. Not yet.
Perfect love is this : God who didn't need to die for us, did.
The unnecessary sacrifice. Why us?
Sure, we were flawed. We were wrong.
Not from the start, we were made in perfection.
But we fell, and in our temptation we have condemned ourselves.
He should've started over. Wipe us out. Begin anew.
But He didn't. He couldn't. It was against His nature.
Because His nature is Love. And perfect love never gives up.
Even in His judgement, He saved a remnant.
There always were survivors, because out of Love
He could not fully destroy His beloved.
Ah, now you may think to yourselves.
This is blasphemy. God is all-Powerful, all-Knowing.
How can I dictate what God could or couldn't do.
True, I would never deign to limit a limitless God.
But in His love, His character is based on Love,
And whatever He does, it is Love.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Heresy, heresy everywhere
But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will also be false teachers among you, who will secretly introduce destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing swift destruction upon themselves. And many will follow their sensuality, and because of them the way of the truth will be maligned; and in their greed they will exploit you with false words; their judgment from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep.
(2 Peter 2:1-3)
Make no mistake. They walk among us. They are already here.
Years ago, they tried to recruit me in university.
That didn't work, for the reason was that I was immunized back then.
However, as soon as their tainted doctrine reached my ears, I knew
I saw the wolves under the bloodstained sheepskin.
And I ran from them.
It wasn't my Master's voice.
And yet again, twice have different false teachers with their honey-smooth words
Attempted to breach my guarded defences and subvert the mind of Christ.
To His credit, He let me see the false teachings behind their false words.
I'm no super holy man that I was able to see through their ploys.
The only measure I knew and the only measure I needed was the Word of God.
It is my sword and my shield, with which I daily face the hounding heretics
After me, baying for my faith, my loyalty, my support.
Read the Bible daily, brothers and sisters, for within its pages
Are the inspired, plenary, verbal Word of the Living God.
We fall not because of what we believe, but because we do not know what to believe.
And how can we live out what we believe if we know it not?
It is madness.
Scores of undergraduates are swept up in cultic nets,
Hundreds and thousands flock to charismatic speakers with dubious messages
Millions have been swayed by the doctrine of devils.
We have raised a generation of rootless Christians by our neglect.
And when the strong winds of adversity blows upon them,
We are surprised at their lack of faith and principles!
Should have seen it coming a mile away.
Sound doctrine is rare these days.
My critics can go ask any Christian they meet.
Ask them what they believe in.
Oh, they believe that there is One God?
Good, so too the demons in hell- they believe it and shudder! (James 2:19)
Oh, they also say that Jesus is the Son of God?
So did the demon in this grave-wandering lunatic (Mark 5:7)
Beyond the basics, they have no idea what to believe,
Because they rather read manga than the Bible.
And we muse in astonishment why their lives are not governed by the Scriptures.
Is that really a puzzle to us, or have we been so blinded to the facts
That it was just so convenient to forget about it
And
Look
The
Other
Way?
Back to the drawing board, ladies and gentlemen. Back to our Bibles.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Seasons of Grief
He was standing silent over the casket.
Lost in his thoughts.
Soft I touched his shoulder and alerted him to my presence.
My dear friend of my childhood days
I can sense your grief, and in turn, your loss.
Truly, I wish I knew your grandpa, but the season's come and gone.
And then in my own silence, I too am grieving.
Today's the day- how could I ever forget?
The 10th day of the 10th month.
A year ago, it was so vastly different.
Life was sweet, dripping with the hope of perhaps
The end of my search, the lonely road alone.
A year later, I still walk alone, I am tired.
So tired, of searching after shadows, I am weary.
Too many unfit candidates out there
I won't repeat the same mistakes again.
I have never been too choosy, I just took what life threw me.
Like a beggar picking up the meager earnings of the day.
Enough of it. If that is what it means to love, I shall love selectively.
I used to be the butt of jokes among my friends (sorry, ex friends- they've moved on)
because of my uber low standards when it comes to women.
Not to say that the girls I dated were of low standard,
It was simply that I didn't cared.
Now, I'm all but worn out. I've seen hundreds of girls go by-
Taken ones, Single ones, of ever shape and size, creed and color.
And what I saw filled me with dread.
Lost in his thoughts.
Soft I touched his shoulder and alerted him to my presence.
My dear friend of my childhood days
I can sense your grief, and in turn, your loss.
Truly, I wish I knew your grandpa, but the season's come and gone.
And then in my own silence, I too am grieving.
Today's the day- how could I ever forget?
The 10th day of the 10th month.
A year ago, it was so vastly different.
Life was sweet, dripping with the hope of perhaps
The end of my search, the lonely road alone.
A year later, I still walk alone, I am tired.
So tired, of searching after shadows, I am weary.
Too many unfit candidates out there
I won't repeat the same mistakes again.
I have never been too choosy, I just took what life threw me.
Like a beggar picking up the meager earnings of the day.
Enough of it. If that is what it means to love, I shall love selectively.
I used to be the butt of jokes among my friends (sorry, ex friends- they've moved on)
because of my uber low standards when it comes to women.
Not to say that the girls I dated were of low standard,
It was simply that I didn't cared.
Now, I'm all but worn out. I've seen hundreds of girls go by-
Taken ones, Single ones, of ever shape and size, creed and color.
And what I saw filled me with dread.
I fear I shall never find the one I seek.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Dominoes
The first man set his eyes upon the cursed fruit.
Never in his short existence could he foresee the far-reaching consequences
Of
Just
One
Bite.
Fast forward to this day.
This is my third week.
Also, this will be my third funeral.
Death, so much death around me.
And one day too, my frame shall fall
And to dust shall I return
"...till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken;
for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
Never in his short existence could he foresee the far-reaching consequences
Of
Just
One
Bite.
Fast forward to this day.
This is my third week.
Also, this will be my third funeral.
Death, so much death around me.
And one day too, my frame shall fall
And to dust shall I return
"...till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken;
for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
said the Lord God unto Adam
And to dust did Adam return.
So too did his sons, and their sons in like fashion.
Like an intricate setup of dominoes.
Like an intricate setup of dominoes.
It is an uphill task.
The saints are all being called back to glory, one by one,
Striving, dying, reaching the prize that is in Christ.
But the work goes on, and the workers dwindle.
In this war of attrition we are rapidly losing ground.
True, I am here, of my generation, to serve, to seek for the lost ones
Alas, where are the youths who made merry with me?
Where are they? All, gone. And the generation war is lost.
We're losing the battle. This time, we'll win ourselves a war.
Let's win back our teens for Christ.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Ashes to ashes
I woke at 5am this morning
It was yet dark, yet I bolted upright.
Work calls, and I must obey.
Today marks my return to the Morning Watch- my church's prayer group.
And then it's off to breakfast with the venerable Pastor Leung and the CG.
CareGroup Coffee Group. Yes, they call it that
Oh, I was a tad intimidated, being around that pastor from chinese service.
He looks severe, and I don't think I've ever seen him smile before this.
So that's why I kept out of his way in the past
Readers, I was wrong. I mistook deadpan humour for strictness.
He is one of the funniest men in the ministry,
And there's no end to the funny anecdotes and jokes we shared over breakfast.
However, the smiles and the laughter must soon end.
I was to go observe and assist the pastors at the funeral.
Yes, you read correctly. I said fun-eral.
It was kind of numbed and routine about it.
Nod mutely at the grieving relatives, shake some hands
Take some notes, look sharp and contemplative, yes yes.
And then, the trigger. A pink rose pressed into my hand.
No. Not a rose, please, it hurts, it hurts so much.
Because I remember, I remember too clearly- the last time I held a rose.
I was walking near Bukit Bintang plaza. It was Valentine's eve.
Saw the rose, thought she might like it, and without a thought, bought it.
It was red, and cold, and alive.
As soon as I got back to the room, it started to show signs of decay.
Just like our love, falling apart. A petal here, a petal there.
The rot set in. I tried to save it. I chucked it in the fridge.
ALL THINGS DIE. I was back at the crematorium.
The rose still had a thorn, it pricked me. I did not bleed. Not outside.
I couldn't save my rose, and like all things, it died.
It was dead when I pressed it into her reluctant palm,
as dead as the body laid in state in front of me.
And a tear formed and threatened to run down my cheek
I held it in check, it was not proper. I must be strong.
She left with the dead rose, and the dead love
And my dead heart refused to remember the dead joys.
The dead memories were buried, all nicely, with a headstone.
Jon's heart. RIP 2013. So long and thanks for all the fish.
Until the moment the pink rose was pressed into my palm
I cringed, I looked away. No, this rose is dying too.
It was alive, but it started dying as soon as it was severed from the bush.
All things die, and so does this rose. No exceptions.
This is my new life, I remembered. No more dark days.
No more memories that condemn me to sorrow.
No more love, and I laid the pink rose upon the wooden casket.
I turned away and prayed that I may never ever
Have a love as dead as that rose with a single thorn
No, let me die knowing that love that is Undying.
It was yet dark, yet I bolted upright.
Work calls, and I must obey.
Today marks my return to the Morning Watch- my church's prayer group.
And then it's off to breakfast with the venerable Pastor Leung and the CG.
Oh, I was a tad intimidated, being around that pastor from chinese service.
He looks severe, and I don't think I've ever seen him smile before this.
So that's why I kept out of his way in the past
Readers, I was wrong. I mistook deadpan humour for strictness.
He is one of the funniest men in the ministry,
And there's no end to the funny anecdotes and jokes we shared over breakfast.
However, the smiles and the laughter must soon end.
I was to go observe and assist the pastors at the funeral.
Yes, you read correctly. I said fun-eral.
It was kind of numbed and routine about it.
Nod mutely at the grieving relatives, shake some hands
Take some notes, look sharp and contemplative, yes yes.
And then, the trigger. A pink rose pressed into my hand.
No. Not a rose, please, it hurts, it hurts so much.
Because I remember, I remember too clearly- the last time I held a rose.
I was walking near Bukit Bintang plaza. It was Valentine's eve.
Saw the rose, thought she might like it, and without a thought, bought it.
It was red, and cold, and alive.
As soon as I got back to the room, it started to show signs of decay.
Just like our love, falling apart. A petal here, a petal there.
The rot set in. I tried to save it. I chucked it in the fridge.
ALL THINGS DIE. I was back at the crematorium.
The rose still had a thorn, it pricked me. I did not bleed. Not outside.
I couldn't save my rose, and like all things, it died.
It was dead when I pressed it into her reluctant palm,
as dead as the body laid in state in front of me.
And a tear formed and threatened to run down my cheek
I held it in check, it was not proper. I must be strong.
She left with the dead rose, and the dead love
And my dead heart refused to remember the dead joys.
The dead memories were buried, all nicely, with a headstone.
Jon's heart. RIP 2013. So long and thanks for all the fish.
Until the moment the pink rose was pressed into my palm
I cringed, I looked away. No, this rose is dying too.
It was alive, but it started dying as soon as it was severed from the bush.
All things die, and so does this rose. No exceptions.
This is my new life, I remembered. No more dark days.
No more memories that condemn me to sorrow.
No more love, and I laid the pink rose upon the wooden casket.
I turned away and prayed that I may never ever
Have a love as dead as that rose with a single thorn
No, let me die knowing that love that is Undying.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
The First 3 Days
Sunday:
Work began with the setting up of the reception counter.
Sis S. taught me how to arrange the items on the table and what went where.
That was about all. Well, I went and watched a movie at the cabin,
Yes, apparently watching movies is part of my job description, deal with it.
Then the usual choir practice, and I'm off.
Monday:
Woke up around 5 something-ish, took the train to Tmn Bahagia station.
My mentor picked me up there and we arrived at the Desa Park City branch.
Was commissioned to carry a few stuff around here and there
Then F. pulled me into the traffic warden dept.
Directed members to the church for a few hours.
Called back to the sanctuary for P&W session
Mentor introduced me to a missionary (A.) and his family.
A. dropped me back near my house.
So far, so good.
Tuesday:
First real day at the office.
Learned about the setup for staff devotion session.
Attended staff devotion
Packed up staff devotion
Briefing with my Mentor.
He gave me a really good bible (Thanks, Mentor!)
and assigned me tasks.
Met up with 5 staffs to get weekly tasks
They served snacks. (Yummy!)
and then I did a lil bit of sorting stuff here and there
And then I had lunch with the kitchen staff
and delivered food for them to the daycare
Then I was assigned my first big task:
The packing of the newsletters.
I now realise how many members our Chinese service has.
Thank God for so many souls!
Wrapped up the day by attending the staff meeting.
Let me say this. This is a staff meeting like no other,
And I'm glad to be a part of it.
Never have I foreseen this happening
Only God could've done this for me.
Work began with the setting up of the reception counter.
Sis S. taught me how to arrange the items on the table and what went where.
That was about all. Well, I went and watched a movie at the cabin,
Yes, apparently watching movies is part of my job description, deal with it.
Then the usual choir practice, and I'm off.
Monday:
Woke up around 5 something-ish, took the train to Tmn Bahagia station.
My mentor picked me up there and we arrived at the Desa Park City branch.
Was commissioned to carry a few stuff around here and there
Then F. pulled me into the traffic warden dept.
Directed members to the church for a few hours.
Called back to the sanctuary for P&W session
Mentor introduced me to a missionary (A.) and his family.
A. dropped me back near my house.
So far, so good.
Tuesday:
First real day at the office.
Learned about the setup for staff devotion session.
Attended staff devotion
Packed up staff devotion
Briefing with my Mentor.
He gave me a really good bible (Thanks, Mentor!)
and assigned me tasks.
Met up with 5 staffs to get weekly tasks
They served snacks. (Yummy!)
and then I did a lil bit of sorting stuff here and there
And then I had lunch with the kitchen staff
and delivered food for them to the daycare
Then I was assigned my first big task:
The packing of the newsletters.
I now realise how many members our Chinese service has.
Thank God for so many souls!
Wrapped up the day by attending the staff meeting.
Let me say this. This is a staff meeting like no other,
And I'm glad to be a part of it.
Never have I foreseen this happening
Only God could've done this for me.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Headway
So much has passed since I last wrote in this blog.
I apologize for taking so long, dear readers.
Last month as I lay dying,
The edges of my vision, slowly narrowing,
the final thought in my mind was:
I'm at peace, and I'm not afraid,
For there is sweetness in death, but
I don't want to die now.
And cue blackout, and loss of consciousness.
It is bright, all around me, blazing, pure white light.
I am standing in whiteness, and there are no shadows to be found.
The light was intense, but not blinding, warm, but not scorching
Yet brighter than any ray shone forth by the sun.
And I, my clothes, were in the purest white.
Then He spoke to me, in a voice deep and strong,
Not like Morgan Freeman's,
yet a thousand times more commanding than any voice I have ever heard
This Voice had power and authority, and He spoke to me
Not just as a Father to a son, but also as a Commander in Chief to a private.
And He said,
And I lived. I woke up in the Emergency Room, with tears in my eyes,
and the vital signs that were falling rapidly the whole time I was out,
Rapidly shot up into the stable regions within the next few hours.
The docs and nurses were baffled, and when nothing could explain how I did not die
(They told my mom that night to expect a funeral the next morning, if I'm not dead by then)
They took blood samples, and discharged me when they couldn't keep me there any longer.
I was in there for five days. And I lived to tell the tale.
Alright, Lord, said I-
Enough signs. I surrender. You Win.
Now show me what to do next.
And in my gut I felt~ Contact your church leaders. I have sent you.
And so over the next few days I met in short order:
Tuesday: Pastor Mark of Serving in Missions
Wednesday: Reverend Timothy of KLBC (Assoc. Pastor)
Thursday: Reverend John of KLBC (Senior Pastor)
It seems it's not His will for me to enter Seminary next year,
but instead I must grow more and pass through 15 months of church internship first
Last Sunday, D.- the church staff, passed me an internship form
After much praying and deliberation, waiting and hoping
(If this is Your doing, Lord, You get me through this!)
He gave me His thumbs up the day before yesterday.
The church's board members approved my internship application
Which in itself was a close shave, since I left my internship form at home,
I rushed with Pas. Tim. to the office to fill another up before the board meeting.
Which starts in about 15 minutes time.
I was desperate. I didn't have my 2 referrals,
I didn't have the time to compose a nice long essay
(Usually when I have time to write one, I tend to exceed 500 words)
So that may have worked out in my favor.
I think I only got till 200-250, handwritten words from my heart.
No fancy language, no flowery ornaments.
Just the earnest, simple statement why I am applying for internship.
At 10:20pm thereabouts. I got the news. The pastors texted me.
Bad news, says Pas. Tim., your holidays ends on the 15th.
Congratulations, says Pas. John, the board has approved...
I needn't read on. I got it. God opened the doors for me yet again.
The next morning, I dropped by the office to finalize it.
Hallelujah, I'm one step nearer.
I apologize for taking so long, dear readers.
Last month as I lay dying,
The edges of my vision, slowly narrowing,
the final thought in my mind was:
I'm at peace, and I'm not afraid,
For there is sweetness in death, but
I don't want to die now.
And cue blackout, and loss of consciousness.
It is bright, all around me, blazing, pure white light.
I am standing in whiteness, and there are no shadows to be found.
The light was intense, but not blinding, warm, but not scorching
Yet brighter than any ray shone forth by the sun.
And I, my clothes, were in the purest white.
Then He spoke to me, in a voice deep and strong,
Not like Morgan Freeman's,
yet a thousand times more commanding than any voice I have ever heard
This Voice had power and authority, and He spoke to me
Not just as a Father to a son, but also as a Commander in Chief to a private.
And He said,
"Now is not your time. Serve me, and live!"
And I lived. I woke up in the Emergency Room, with tears in my eyes,
and the vital signs that were falling rapidly the whole time I was out,
Rapidly shot up into the stable regions within the next few hours.
The docs and nurses were baffled, and when nothing could explain how I did not die
(They told my mom that night to expect a funeral the next morning, if I'm not dead by then)
They took blood samples, and discharged me when they couldn't keep me there any longer.
I was in there for five days. And I lived to tell the tale.
Alright, Lord, said I-
Enough signs. I surrender. You Win.
Now show me what to do next.
And in my gut I felt~ Contact your church leaders. I have sent you.
And so over the next few days I met in short order:
Tuesday: Pastor Mark of Serving in Missions
Wednesday: Reverend Timothy of KLBC (Assoc. Pastor)
Thursday: Reverend John of KLBC (Senior Pastor)
It seems it's not His will for me to enter Seminary next year,
but instead I must grow more and pass through 15 months of church internship first
Last Sunday, D.- the church staff, passed me an internship form
After much praying and deliberation, waiting and hoping
(If this is Your doing, Lord, You get me through this!)
He gave me His thumbs up the day before yesterday.
The church's board members approved my internship application
Which in itself was a close shave, since I left my internship form at home,
I rushed with Pas. Tim. to the office to fill another up before the board meeting.
Which starts in about 15 minutes time.
I was desperate. I didn't have my 2 referrals,
I didn't have the time to compose a nice long essay
(Usually when I have time to write one, I tend to exceed 500 words)
So that may have worked out in my favor.
I think I only got till 200-250, handwritten words from my heart.
No fancy language, no flowery ornaments.
Just the earnest, simple statement why I am applying for internship.
At 10:20pm thereabouts. I got the news. The pastors texted me.
Bad news, says Pas. Tim., your holidays ends on the 15th.
Congratulations, says Pas. John, the board has approved...
I needn't read on. I got it. God opened the doors for me yet again.
The next morning, I dropped by the office to finalize it.
Hallelujah, I'm one step nearer.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Love
Love has been a continuous theme in my life.
I have struggled with the concept of it in my childhood years.
Growing up in an Asian family meant that my father doesn't openly show his love to me.
And mom had to work to support the family, and was seldom around.
I was packed away to the babysitter who took care of me for the money my mother paid,
and at home, I lived in the mortal terror of an abusive father who didn't know how to relate to me.
As a slow learner, I was the source of constant exasperation for my teachers in kindergarten, and they showed their displeasure at my behavior easily.
So, whilst I was a child, I yearned for love. I didn't fully know what it was, but it was that empty spot inside my heart that needed to be filled.
I wanted my perfectionist dad's approval, I wanted the love of a mother who could be there for me when I needed her the most. And then I learned to cope by drawing into my own self. I started daydreaming, and in my head, were the other me who approved of what I did, and was there for me whenever I needed someone around who cared. But imperfect reflections of reality that they were, I still ached inside.
I tried to find love in friendship, and sought out to befriend others, but I was an awkward and withdrawn person, hardly the life of the party, and when I tried, it often showed through its plasticity that I was trying too hard. I soon learned that friends are fickle, and are like me, only human. They err, they lie, they take advantage of me. And friends leave, and friends die. As much as they love to chant the mantra that friendship lasts forever, the sobering truth is that friendship takes constant maintenance to last longer than a flash in a pan.
And then there's women. Good Lord, this is going to be a long post. Here goes.
I guess it's the first time I've written about this in detail.
Unofficially, the first time I've had an interest in a girl was in kindergarten. No one really knew what it was about, only that it was fun and I had a playmate by the name of S- W- (What? You'd think I'll kiss and tell???) Now, she was the only one among us who didn't mind playing with me and we really had fun. And in my childish innocence, I didn't know the implications behind a ring, and presented her with one. Her parents freaked the hell out, and that was the last I ever saw of Ms. W-. Till today, I wonder what had become of her. Fast forward to when I was 10. There was a girl in my class who was top of her class, and she was my rival for top spot in English. She was beautiful, and was a prefect. Y- L- Y- was her name, and I often daydreamed of her, or rather the idea of being accepted by her. Anyway, I lost contact for a great many years after I shifted school, and when we got back in touch, I could barely recognize her when we reconnected. I learned from that experience that time changes people. Then in my 13th year, I met this girl who was one year my senior. She was tall, funny, and had a great smile. She's a badminton player from my church. I made the mistake of speaking my mind one day to her and got a tight slap for my troubles- she never spoke to me ever again. And the next year, I guess a crush really hit me hard when I got to know a girl from my music school- G- Y- S-. She was a real stunner, had a laugh that was ... like the pealing of bells, and she's a harper. The way her hair falls over her shoulder gives me chills to this day. Ah, the follies of youth, I loved her truly, but as a greenhorn, I didn't know what it was to be a boyfriend, and soon she got bored of me. At the end of the year, she dumped me at youth camp, and that was my introduction to the harsh realities of rejection. I couldn't understand, and couldn't cope with pretending to be ok with seeing her every sunday in the youth group, and so I left. And worse, I started experimenting.
I was curious: did I have it in me to replicate what she did to me? To heartlessly ditch her once I've ensnared her. I repeat, I was curious, not malicious. That was way later. However for this next one, I chose an innocent victim, a common friend I shared with G- Y- S-. Her name is A- W-, and she ... she had a good heart, at least back when I first knew her. I went through the motions of being somewhat a semblance of a boyfriend, but I was wondering what awaited at the end of it all. And then I realized that I have actually fallen for her, and I came clean. Sure, she was hurt to know my original intentions, but she accepted my true feelings for her. However, it was our important year in terms of academics and our grades were being affected by our flirting so I had to call a time out for our relationship. I promised her that I would wait for her after our Form 5, and walked out the door reluctantly. True enough, I kept my promise, and we got back together years later. However, time changed her, and she wasn't the same A- W- that I knew and loved years ago. She had changed, as did I, and we mutually agreed to part ways. However, I found my answer-
Yes, to say goodbye to a loved one hurts like a kick in the balls.
After the 2 aforementioned serious relationships with GYS and AW, I decided not to go serious. That's when I knew Melia and BZX. Melia's one of the few I dare name openly, because she's a dear friend whom I truly loved whom I immortalized in the naming of my classical guitar. Everytime her name crosses my mind, I am reminded of her genuine care and friendship. She kept me company on the telephone for countless nights, and it staved away the tides of loneliness. BZX was a tragedy, and I was the one at fault. I loved her too, and in a false moment, sealed my fate by heading to TARC for F6 instead of going back to MBSSKL, back to the girl who came for me, and found me elsewhere. BZX, if I could wind back the clock, I would've come back for you. I didn't know you seriously came for me, and I beg your forgiveness.
Then came Serious#3, Alexis of Butterworth. I knew her whilst working as a librarian in KTP, we met online, and it was my first long distance relationship. We carried on for more than a year, and even into university. But I got distracted there, and wasn't around for her, and then tragically, she died in a car accident. We never met, and never will. Sometimes I wish she were still alive, and we'd be together still. I learnt from this experience that no one is immortal, we must love whilst we must.
And then in my rebellious phase of my life, I decided to date Serious#4- the antithesis of the girl my parents would approve. She was into metal music, a free spirit, and sexually promiscuitive. She was short, brilliant, and...Malay. ahahhah, yeah. She educated me in the Venusian arts, but we never went all the way. A.M. was her name, and I found out later that her ancestor was the much celebrated Abdullah Hukum. Well, whaddaya know, she shocked me one day by converting to Christianity without my knowledge. However, my dad couldn't accept her, and it was a cause for contention between my dad and I. In the end, due to irreconcilable differences, I let her go.
There are too many rejections to list while I was in uni. There was Rachel, and Angela, and Angelicia, and countless others. Sometimes I wish I've never met them, and that I wouldn't be as scarred as I am today, but each of them taught me valuable lessons that have shaped my being me today.
Then there's S- T- or now my brother and I refer to her affectionately as Satan. She was special, for she dated my brother and I at the same time. And we fought, my brother and I, over her, and for a year, our relationship as siblings were strained. We were both dumped in due time, and now we share a burning hate for the being we call Satan. However, she inspired some of the best pieces of music I composed, but not the best.
After her was the Innocent Violinist, J- W- Y- L-. She was really an angel, and about 8 years my junior. She's really talented in the arts of music, but I couldn't tie her down. I wanted a physical relationship, so she just wouldn't do. Also was Hanna of Philippines, my short-lived prank relationship designed to shock my friends and hers as well. It didn't go well. I fell in love with her, and had to cut her loose before more damage was done. By now I knew I was a bad influence, and I tend to hurt the ones I love.
Then came the final blow- La Mia Bambina Bella, alternately known as Emily (not her real name). In a nutshell, she seduced me, I fell in love with her, she left her distant nonfunctional boyfriend for me, we lasted about 4 months, and then proceeded to dump me on Valentine's Day. She was the only one I knew intimately, and sometimes I ache when I think of those days spent with her. She inspired my greatest composition, an Italian song called Emilia, and though she was the only girl I'd seriously thought I'd marry. Yes, it was so close. But in the end, like a rose plucked from the plant, her love died. Now she is with a guy to whom I was introduced to as "not her type". Apparently I was deceived, and it smote my pride.
Well, there were others after that, like Trinity, and XW. But now I am on guard, and I am trying hard not to fall for another that I may hurt. Or get hurt in return.
And now I despair, I am irreversibly scarred by years of wear and tear, and the strength of my youth has been given to another. I am spent, and I am weary. And now I know that of all these loves I've pursued in life, the only one worth mention is the love of God.
I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.
<Galatians 2:20>
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Fiddler on the roof
Sounds crazy no?
But we all are fiddlers on the roof at some point in our lives.
We eke out an existence trying to achieve something big, but not falling off and breaking our necks.
Anyways, while we are talking about fiddling
I was called for accompanying the church worship team for the offering song with my violin, Madia.
Now, I've brought Madia to church every week, but I've never taken her out and played her in front of the congregation before.
And now, with only 4 days worth of practice, I'm standing up there with the top guns...playing with them?
The song chosen was a beloved hymn- All Creatures of our God and King
I love hymns, I grew up with them, and when I listened to and sung them in times of distress,
I was calm, consoled, and I felt safe.
Those words were unto me a power in their own.
The haunting melodies, like a vine, grows on me.
I knew the song by heart, but will my Madia sing?
I found out today. And sang she did! She didn't let me down.
And after that, I was given the music sheet for the doxology- As We Go.
It wasn't a hymn, but my choir sang it once, so I know it by heart.
As it was in F major, it was no biggie, it had only a single flat.
Madia, you darling, you sang that beautifully too!
And at that, my brief time upon the stage drew to a close.
That was exciting. I remember my fingers trembling, my palms sweaty.
Stage fright? After all these years? Ah, the secret is this:
No one ever gets rid of the butterflies in the tummy.
One just learns to deal with it. Embrace the fact you're on the verge of panic.
And ask yourself, what would I trade for this?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. This was my purpose today.
I have a vision. Wherever God sends me, I will bring the gift of music.
I will train up a powerful church choir, I will teach them how to read music, how to make music.
With their hands, with their voices, with their hearts.
For wherever I go, Melia, Madia, and Triste shall follow me.
However, there are pitfalls to avoid when it comes to music, and its making.
I opined to my violin tutor today that music is a very important part of ministry.
And I expected him to agree. But with a stern face he warned me.
I pondered this. Have I ever let pride take precedence over my worship? Not this time.
I used to feel that way when I performed in university.
Who hasn't heard Jon Black and his violin Madia in the AllOut Cafe?
Who hasn't heard of the blindfolded improvised Romance d'Amor during the International Student's Night?
My heart swelled with pride. Me, I was the thing. The adoration, the applause, all mine.
But not today. Today, it was all about...did I play it right? Did it make the worship beautiful? Have I glorified my Lord through my playing. I suppose I matured a little today.
Food for thought. Who knows, maybe I'll join the worship team for real.
I have a gift, I have been blessed with training.
Maybe its time to give back.
But we all are fiddlers on the roof at some point in our lives.
We eke out an existence trying to achieve something big, but not falling off and breaking our necks.
Anyways, while we are talking about fiddling
I was called for accompanying the church worship team for the offering song with my violin, Madia.
Now, I've brought Madia to church every week, but I've never taken her out and played her in front of the congregation before.
And now, with only 4 days worth of practice, I'm standing up there with the top guns...playing with them?
The song chosen was a beloved hymn- All Creatures of our God and King
I love hymns, I grew up with them, and when I listened to and sung them in times of distress,
I was calm, consoled, and I felt safe.
Those words were unto me a power in their own.
The haunting melodies, like a vine, grows on me.
I knew the song by heart, but will my Madia sing?
I found out today. And sang she did! She didn't let me down.
And after that, I was given the music sheet for the doxology- As We Go.
It wasn't a hymn, but my choir sang it once, so I know it by heart.
As it was in F major, it was no biggie, it had only a single flat.
Madia, you darling, you sang that beautifully too!
And at that, my brief time upon the stage drew to a close.
That was exciting. I remember my fingers trembling, my palms sweaty.
Stage fright? After all these years? Ah, the secret is this:
No one ever gets rid of the butterflies in the tummy.
One just learns to deal with it. Embrace the fact you're on the verge of panic.
And ask yourself, what would I trade for this?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. This was my purpose today.
I have a vision. Wherever God sends me, I will bring the gift of music.
I will train up a powerful church choir, I will teach them how to read music, how to make music.
With their hands, with their voices, with their hearts.
For wherever I go, Melia, Madia, and Triste shall follow me.
However, there are pitfalls to avoid when it comes to music, and its making.
I opined to my violin tutor today that music is a very important part of ministry.
And I expected him to agree. But with a stern face he warned me.
"It is important, but only equally important.Heavy words from a man who has himself spent a good part of his life involved in music.
remember, the highest importance goes to...Jesus.
Remember, Lucifer was Heaven's Worship Leader once.
His was the music, and his was also the downfall of pride.
It is very often in a musician's life that he is beset by his own ego
and his pride in his mastery of music is the emulation of Lucifer himself"
I pondered this. Have I ever let pride take precedence over my worship? Not this time.
I used to feel that way when I performed in university.
Who hasn't heard Jon Black and his violin Madia in the AllOut Cafe?
Who hasn't heard of the blindfolded improvised Romance d'Amor during the International Student's Night?
My heart swelled with pride. Me, I was the thing. The adoration, the applause, all mine.
But not today. Today, it was all about...did I play it right? Did it make the worship beautiful? Have I glorified my Lord through my playing. I suppose I matured a little today.
Food for thought. Who knows, maybe I'll join the worship team for real.
I have a gift, I have been blessed with training.
Maybe its time to give back.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Home, but not all there.
So I was on the bus home, and night was falling.
Home at long last, or so I thought. No. Not all there.
I left a part of my heart with the REACHers.
To the Singaporean hosts and REACHers that showed us their genuine hospitality and friendship.
They showed us around, and the ones in my group took us to the Esplanade library and to see the Merlion.
To the Indian friends I've met, they really are friendly and they really know how to have a good time.
For a few days we shared a little part of our lives and our culture. Here's to the fruits of our land! =P
Also to the others, the Koreans who took care of my bro, Khamsahamnidaaaaa~
and to Alvin and the Indons, who gave me a batik fan and handcrafted gifts, they remind me ever of you all.
And to that African brother who gave me a paradigm shift in exchange for a scoop of durian icecream, you were truly a Godsend to me. You woke me up from my slumber, and caused my dead heart to beat again, not for the frail and fleeting attentions of women, but for the downtrodden, the weak, the poor, the hungry, the oppressed, the abused, the maltreated, the grieving, the forgotten peoples of this earth who weren't as blessed as most others are.
Brother, I may have forgotten your name, but I will never forget your smile through the tears you shed at my outburst of generosity and kindness. I had compassion on you, and in Jesus' name I bestowed upon you the taste of durian. You however, broke my heart and opened my eyes. Life is no bed of roses for you and your folk. Let me never forget the need of the peoples of the world. Whilst I still sit comfortable in air conditioned rooms after a bountiful and filling dinner, with enough light and electricity to carry on typing, with four walls around me and a roof over my head, with no one wanting to kill me or my kin because I am a Christian- so many others are suffering in the rain, the heat, the freezing cold, naked and starving, running and in hiding from men who would lay hands on them simply because they called on His Name. Wait for me, Brother, I am coming to you soon. I'm trying to get there as soon as I can, but so-called godly men around me are deterring my arrival to you. Pray for me, beloved Brother. I am coming.
Once I got back, the signs started coming again. The 1st sign was really shocking.
I was having lunch with my dad one day after we came back and then he said something totally weird, like Twilight Zone weird- he apologised to me for sending me into this IT industry
It may not seem like much except that
The 2nd sign came shortly a few hours later my university test result came back
and apparently due to my lack of passion, it told me that I had to delay another semester
which is already wayyyy extended.
My dad bluntly told me this was not for me and he asked me what my passion really is,
and the first thought in my mind was
The third came when I was already praying hard about this series of events
and I was really questioning how could He send someone sinful like me
Those of you who known me as Jon Black can testify to my Black-ness
And I read in Luke 5:18-20
that I should not be afraid, and He will make me catch men
So ok, the 4th one was a few days later. I was wondering if this is really even going to work, I mean, why am I giving all this up, and I was playing my violin, Madia,
then I started playing a song that I have forgotten for about 20 years-
a teeny weeny song that I learnt in kindergarten. I never fully understood the lyrics back then
but that day when it came back to me, it hit me and I began to cry
the song was called "Make me a servant" and I don't know why but that song came back at a right moment. I've never remembered that song for two decades and it was just shut away for a moment when I needed to hear it. It goes like this:
So yeah, the final sign will be when my pastor gives me the green light. Or so I thought. Last Sunday I spoke with a pastor and he wanted to talk with me later about it in more detail. Summary: He thinks I should go back to studies in uni first. It sure sounds dandy, but to me, I just felt the wrong-ness of that idea, the way a traveler just feels that the bridge he is about to cross over the wrong river, that deep and certain feeling that is both sure and intuitive.
I chucked that thought aside. Maybe he is right. Then my violin tutor told me to wait... he said that I should wait a few more years because Moses waited for 40 years. I wanted to shoot back that Simon Peter and the Apostles were called immediately, and that a lot of commands from Jehovah Himself starts with, "Go now..." but I realized that if I did respond in that way it wouldn't be completely respectful and loving, so I held my tongue. I mutely nodded and kept that bitterness inside.
O Lord, how Your servants prophesy sweet sayings to calm the multitude when they should instead be driven to action! See how they use Your Word to play it on the safe side of things. Send me with fire, O Lord, and let Thy servant be used according to Thy will.
So I thought that maybe God is sending me back to uni, or so I thought...
Home at long last, or so I thought. No. Not all there.
I left a part of my heart with the REACHers.
To the Singaporean hosts and REACHers that showed us their genuine hospitality and friendship.
They showed us around, and the ones in my group took us to the Esplanade library and to see the Merlion.
To the Indian friends I've met, they really are friendly and they really know how to have a good time.
For a few days we shared a little part of our lives and our culture. Here's to the fruits of our land! =P
Also to the others, the Koreans who took care of my bro, Khamsahamnidaaaaa~
and to Alvin and the Indons, who gave me a batik fan and handcrafted gifts, they remind me ever of you all.
And to that African brother who gave me a paradigm shift in exchange for a scoop of durian icecream, you were truly a Godsend to me. You woke me up from my slumber, and caused my dead heart to beat again, not for the frail and fleeting attentions of women, but for the downtrodden, the weak, the poor, the hungry, the oppressed, the abused, the maltreated, the grieving, the forgotten peoples of this earth who weren't as blessed as most others are.
Brother, I may have forgotten your name, but I will never forget your smile through the tears you shed at my outburst of generosity and kindness. I had compassion on you, and in Jesus' name I bestowed upon you the taste of durian. You however, broke my heart and opened my eyes. Life is no bed of roses for you and your folk. Let me never forget the need of the peoples of the world. Whilst I still sit comfortable in air conditioned rooms after a bountiful and filling dinner, with enough light and electricity to carry on typing, with four walls around me and a roof over my head, with no one wanting to kill me or my kin because I am a Christian- so many others are suffering in the rain, the heat, the freezing cold, naked and starving, running and in hiding from men who would lay hands on them simply because they called on His Name. Wait for me, Brother, I am coming to you soon. I'm trying to get there as soon as I can, but so-called godly men around me are deterring my arrival to you. Pray for me, beloved Brother. I am coming.
Once I got back, the signs started coming again. The 1st sign was really shocking.
I was having lunch with my dad one day after we came back and then he said something totally weird, like Twilight Zone weird- he apologised to me for sending me into this IT industry
It may not seem like much except that
1. my dad never apologisedand
2. my dad never regrets his decisions about meso it was a first and I was wondering what was up
The 2nd sign came shortly a few hours later my university test result came back
and apparently due to my lack of passion, it told me that I had to delay another semester
which is already wayyyy extended.
My dad bluntly told me this was not for me and he asked me what my passion really is,
and the first thought in my mind was
Life is Mission
The third came when I was already praying hard about this series of events
and I was really questioning how could He send someone sinful like me
Those of you who known me as Jon Black can testify to my Black-ness
And I read in Luke 5:18-20
that I should not be afraid, and He will make me catch men
So ok, the 4th one was a few days later. I was wondering if this is really even going to work, I mean, why am I giving all this up, and I was playing my violin, Madia,
then I started playing a song that I have forgotten for about 20 years-
a teeny weeny song that I learnt in kindergarten. I never fully understood the lyrics back then
but that day when it came back to me, it hit me and I began to cry
the song was called "Make me a servant" and I don't know why but that song came back at a right moment. I've never remembered that song for two decades and it was just shut away for a moment when I needed to hear it. It goes like this:
Make me a servant
Humble and meek
Lord let me lift up those who are weak
And may the prayers of my heart always be
Make me a servant
Make me a servant
Make me a servant today
I submit to you that Life is Mission. I rest my case, members of the jury. I have been surely and divinely called.
So yeah, the final sign will be when my pastor gives me the green light. Or so I thought. Last Sunday I spoke with a pastor and he wanted to talk with me later about it in more detail. Summary: He thinks I should go back to studies in uni first. It sure sounds dandy, but to me, I just felt the wrong-ness of that idea, the way a traveler just feels that the bridge he is about to cross over the wrong river, that deep and certain feeling that is both sure and intuitive.
I chucked that thought aside. Maybe he is right. Then my violin tutor told me to wait... he said that I should wait a few more years because Moses waited for 40 years. I wanted to shoot back that Simon Peter and the Apostles were called immediately, and that a lot of commands from Jehovah Himself starts with, "Go now..." but I realized that if I did respond in that way it wouldn't be completely respectful and loving, so I held my tongue. I mutely nodded and kept that bitterness inside.
O Lord, how Your servants prophesy sweet sayings to calm the multitude when they should instead be driven to action! See how they use Your Word to play it on the safe side of things. Send me with fire, O Lord, and let Thy servant be used according to Thy will.
So I thought that maybe God is sending me back to uni, or so I thought...
Saturday, July 27, 2013
The Calling
So, I was in Singapore from the 17th to the 21st of July in the 2013th year of our Lord for the
16th Baptist Youth World Conference themed Reach
(See, even the theme itself is mission-related)
And I thought that this was just another rally, we get all fired up, and we all go home, and by next Sunday its business as usual, with bonus holiday pictures like
Remember Jonah?~ retorted the Lord to me. Sure, send me a sign~ I snapped back bitterly.
*Readers beware. When you ask Him for a sign, He gets dramatic pretty easily*
On the 2nd day, we discussed the passage where Jesus washes His disciples feet, and I got this urge to point out to my family group (its like a Care Group, but International!) this sentence in the passage:
Christianity doesn't have the luxury of convenience, I argued. I felt the Lord chuckle at my side: "Couldn't have said it better. Now about your university..." I tuned Him out for the rest of the discussion. Really, I was getting flustered
On the 3rd night, if i remember correctly, there was this speaker who challenged us all with a few questions~
Then He gave me a break, and didn't bother me with signs until the next day. I was having a stroll with my newfound friends from India and Indonesia and Singapore. We were having durian icecream.
*Readers, if you haven't tried durian, do so. Now. I insist*
And we thought that it would be a fun idea to see the reactions of people who tried it for the first time.
A German brother who sampled it pulled a poker face and said it tasted rather good.
An African brother to whom I passed a spoonful ingested it, savored and started thanking me with tears in his eyes. I jest not, his eyes brimmed over with tears and he thanked me profusely for my kindness.
Kindness??? What did I just do??? @,@
And then it hit me. What passed as my lunch's dessert was this brother's breakfast. He hardly had a bite to eat since the start of the day! No wonder he looked so famished.
"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"
Whoa. Lord. This blew me away. Later we packed lunch meals for refugee children in destitute countries, and I felt...happy
You'd think this is all over? Not even close.
16th Baptist Youth World Conference themed Reach
(See, even the theme itself is mission-related)
And I thought that this was just another rally, we get all fired up, and we all go home, and by next Sunday its business as usual, with bonus holiday pictures like
Yeah, I'm the shorty in the middle v(T.T)v
And
Left corner, standing *not so short after all* ^_^
And I've got to say, my bro and I had tonnes of fun over there with God's people. But it was so much more than that. I never thought it was going to end up like this, and impact my life this way.
During my first day there, I explored the common area once we got there, and hooooo boy there were so many stalls to visit. There was this one stall, tucked away in an inconspicuous corner, and there were a few ladies seated there. It looked like any other stall there, but for one notable difference. It was filled with flags and maps of different countries. And led like a lamb to a slaughter I followed this strange unexplainable impulse to walk to it. It said boldly SIM~ Serving in Missions.
WHOA. This must be a joke, right? God, You let me throw those years away studying lifeless machines and NOW You lead me here? Those days are long gone, GONE! Look in the box labelled
Impossible
and tell me what You see in there? Yes, that's the dream I gave up! And now You dare-
"Hello, young man. How may I help you? You have an interest in missions, yes?"Said a sister to me. I fumbled out a response that maybe I was. I told her frankly that I didn't know what led me to that stall, bypassing other stalls with big names like the BWA and the Dallas Baptist University. I just told her how I really was, and she understood. I chatted some more with another sister who was with her about the possibilities of me going into missions. She gave me a card, and left in me a slight tremor
Am I really too late?So it passed, I walked away from that stall as fast as my legs could. This is nuts!~ said I to the Lord.
Remember Jonah?~ retorted the Lord to me. Sure, send me a sign~ I snapped back bitterly.
*Readers beware. When you ask Him for a sign, He gets dramatic pretty easily*
On the 2nd day, we discussed the passage where Jesus washes His disciples feet, and I got this urge to point out to my family group (its like a Care Group, but International!) this sentence in the passage:
He got up from his mealAnd eloquently I posited to my interested group members that when we are called for humble service, we are often called during the times when it is most inconvenient for us. So we, like Jesus, should respond immediately when we are called, not when it suits us.
Christianity doesn't have the luxury of convenience, I argued. I felt the Lord chuckle at my side: "Couldn't have said it better. Now about your university..." I tuned Him out for the rest of the discussion. Really, I was getting flustered
On the 3rd night, if i remember correctly, there was this speaker who challenged us all with a few questions~
What would you do for Jesus if you had no restrictions, nothing to hold you back, not time, not money, nothing?was the one that impacted me the most. Really, God? You're going to pull this off underhandedly? You know full well that I would've wound back the clock and entered into missions. And NOW You want me to think about it? But my university...? "You have said it from your own lips", I felt the Lord answer. I swallowed hard. My dad isn't going to like this... "Follow Me. No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God" But...I haven't even started missions yet!!! "You did when you first called me Lord."
Then He gave me a break, and didn't bother me with signs until the next day. I was having a stroll with my newfound friends from India and Indonesia and Singapore. We were having durian icecream.
*Readers, if you haven't tried durian, do so. Now. I insist*
And we thought that it would be a fun idea to see the reactions of people who tried it for the first time.
A German brother who sampled it pulled a poker face and said it tasted rather good.
An African brother to whom I passed a spoonful ingested it, savored and started thanking me with tears in his eyes. I jest not, his eyes brimmed over with tears and he thanked me profusely for my kindness.
Kindness??? What did I just do??? @,@
And then it hit me. What passed as my lunch's dessert was this brother's breakfast. He hardly had a bite to eat since the start of the day! No wonder he looked so famished.
"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"
Whoa. Lord. This blew me away. Later we packed lunch meals for refugee children in destitute countries, and I felt...happy
You'd think this is all over? Not even close.
Prelude
Hey there, I'm Jonathan, or some of you may have known me as Jon Black.
Regardless, this is my writing place where I will keep you all updated about my Calling.
Its a capital C, because if you're blessed enough, you'll get it in your life.
Let's define Calling~
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines as its first definition:
Now ain't that something?
I suppose it had something to do with me raised in a church where high over my head hung the words:
Did I have other dreams? Of course I did! I wanted to write music that would move my listener's hearts. I wanted to create beings of metal and artificial intelligence. You could even say that at one point in time I wanted to conquer the world and rule it like a supreme tyrant. However, some dreams were not meant to be, and in my humanly wrong way, I lumped in the dream of being a missionary together with all the others and chucked them into a box in my mind labelled
Then Singapore happened. I approached it with cold calculated skepticism. Really, a rally of fired-up teens and me, a washed-out, wasted potential, worldly, sinful, etc, person joining them? You might as well collide matter and antimatter and enjoy the explosion. But I was shocked to find they were just really normal people like you and me. They have doubts, regrets, disappointments, unfulfilled dreams, demands, pressure, but at some point in their life, God raised them up to be who they are today: leaders, teachers, pastors, and missionaries. And then the question stirred:
Regardless, this is my writing place where I will keep you all updated about my Calling.
Its a capital C, because if you're blessed enough, you'll get it in your life.
Let's define Calling~
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines as its first definition:
1. : a strong inner impulse toward a particular course of action especially when accompanied by conviction of divine influence
Now ain't that something?
I suppose it had something to do with me raised in a church where high over my head hung the words:
Life is MissionOr maybe it was the time when I was in high school and I visited the missionary ship Doulos. These fine men and women of God who manned this ship as a crew are all professionals who would've made big money in the world, but instead chose to serve God on this vessel called Slave (Yes, Doulos means slave in Greek)
Or maybe because I was exposed to the accounts of the life-changing work of God through people like Dwight Lyman Moody, Jim Elliot, Hudson Taylor, William Carey, and David Livingstone. These titans were nobodys~ but God picked them up, sent them into the ends of the earth and made them carve a place where the light of Jesus may be seen by every people, nation, tribe, and tongue. They were my Ultramans, my Supermans.
Or maybe it was because I wanted to live beyond the ordinary, crossing over the boundaries of the mundane to the miraculous. The dream in my heart was to one day be involved in fulltime missions. I wanted to be used by Him. Anywhere, everywhere.
Did I have other dreams? Of course I did! I wanted to write music that would move my listener's hearts. I wanted to create beings of metal and artificial intelligence. You could even say that at one point in time I wanted to conquer the world and rule it like a supreme tyrant. However, some dreams were not meant to be, and in my humanly wrong way, I lumped in the dream of being a missionary together with all the others and chucked them into a box in my mind labelled
ImpossibleAnd I went on to get my Pre-U cert in TARC (boy, was I miserable there), and then entered Universiti Malaya. It was my dad's dream come true. I was secretly miserable. Resentful, even. I had to give up my dream of becoming a missionary so that I could please my dad somehow (yeah, I crave his approval, it's an Asian thing) and then I was disappointed because I had to turn down an English degree from UTAR because my dad refused to let me take English as a degree~
"No ****ing way am I letting you go to Kampar and study English for RM30k" ~Dad.So I thought that pursuing a Computer Science (Artificial Intelligence) degree there would make him proud of me, and maybe then I'll be the son he always wanted. But I struggled, I do regret taking this course. Not that it was too hard, but it really isn't my passion. I didn't know how to tell my dad about this, and the years dragged on. If I continue on this path, it's going to be another 2 more years of fruitlessness before my graduation. And I despaired.
Then Singapore happened. I approached it with cold calculated skepticism. Really, a rally of fired-up teens and me, a washed-out, wasted potential, worldly, sinful, etc, person joining them? You might as well collide matter and antimatter and enjoy the explosion. But I was shocked to find they were just really normal people like you and me. They have doubts, regrets, disappointments, unfulfilled dreams, demands, pressure, but at some point in their life, God raised them up to be who they are today: leaders, teachers, pastors, and missionaries. And then the question stirred:
Is it really too late for me?
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