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| She Creates
I'm just fascinated by that phrase "She Creates". I saw it on a brochure when I was at church today. Have you noticed that we are always "creating"? I was just sitting at home and looking at the mess Ive made in my house. There was laundry drying off the laundry-airer, dishes not placed back into the cupboard, my books, mail, watches, earrings, mints, vitamins on my dining table, stack of clothes to be ironed amongst the other things. I smiled to myself because I remembered when my friend was over about an hour ago, she said my house looked more lived-in, and homely than the last time I created a show-room kind of neatness when I invited my friends over.
I mean, we were born to create, (like some say we are like our creator). We cook meals and present them on a plate, we doodle when we are on the phone. We plan a birthday party for our friends or children, we write a xanga post, we definitely change the colours of our xanga pages to create a new look. We coordinate our clothes, our wardrobe with the matching shoes and bag! We decorate our books and letters with stickers. We buy a new set of tablemats for our home or use many photos to create a collage for the wall, we make our bed, we wrap presents and we tidy up the home. We create sales charts, budgets and take memorable photos.
We are always, always creating.
Hmmm...I don't know. But at the moment, there is alot of work to do around the house. But just like a true artist who creates, it will be a slow but endearing process. Day by day, hour by hour, step by step, slowly but surely, the final creation, the masterpiece, (with many more to come) will soon take its place.
Have a greeeaaaat day creating! | | |
| When Time Passes Slowly
I had a mini gathering of some primary school (CHIJ Bukit Timah) girlfriends recently and it was real funny. Some of us couldn't recognize each other, and we mostly couldn't believe our eyes how each other turned out. Not that we are going to stop "turning" out. It has been like, what, almost 10 years since we last saw each other. In the past, when communication was limited because we didn't have handphones, or email or icq or msn, we could still call everyday on the phone, and wrote each other letters. It was really quite silly but absolutely adorable. It was all so simple then, we had our fights, shouted at each other, called each other names, wrote the nastiest hatemail, sabotaged and lied to each other and yet we were here now, sitting across each other , at our round table, all looking pretty and grown up, half of us having jobs, one married, a few others engaged or about to be, a couple of single and availables, and we ARE still giggling.
I had the most amazing time. I think we are all fundamentally the same, some being as loud and noisy, some quiet and listening, some always still being "bullied" and all that. Wow. And as we sat across each other, I thought about how we all started out being together, and from there when we left for our respective secondary schools, each of us grew up in our own special way. Neither one of us knew what was awaiting us, "life" and all the lessons, problems, pains and joys it brought us. And now here we are, as result of the choices we made and lessons we have learnt. Each and everyone of us have experienced failed relationships, heart breaks, broken friendships, struggles in school, employment and unemployment, issues with money, issues with family, all unique to each's own. There are times when bad things happen, you never think you'll be able to survive it. But sitting here enjoying each other's company proves that it was actually.....okay.
Of course, certainly we do have lots more "growing up" to do...have to have our marriages and kids and career and what-nots. And we have decided to meet up again, time and time again. I always wished time would speed up during a bad time, but the lesson at the round table dawned upon me in a sense that, life goes on, regardless how bad it may be. Everything passes away and everything becomes beautiful in God's own time. As for now, when there is pain, I know to take a day at a time. One day at a time. One day at a time. Day by day, the pain passes away sooner than I think.
(Tomorrow, Tomorrow, I love ya, Tomorrow, You're only a day away!--Annie, the musical) | | |
| How Do You Know When You Love Someone
That someone being your friend, that someone being your mother, that someone being your child, that someone being your partner, that someone being your enemy..
You know you truly love that person....
When it is all about the other person.
You work hard at two jobs, so you afford ballet lessons for your little princess daughter. You never let her know, and you insist that its because you enjoy keeping busy. You are so tired because you worked long and hard at the office, and so you are enjoying a couple of drinks with your colleagues but your best galpal calls you in distress crying and you jump into a cab right away and spent the night with her.
Your partner is late for an appointment with you and you sit at the restaurant alone. You make a phone call and realize he is still asleep. You quickly hang up so as not to awake him fully and then have dinner alone. You just want to let him sleep because you know he is tired. Your children find you staying up at night looking frustrated at the bills that came in to be paid. They ask you worriedly whether they are in financial trouble and you say that you are not and they dont have to worry because you will settle everything. You are feeling lonely in university overseas and you are struggling with school. Your parents call and you fake a bright and chirpy voice. You say that you are having the time of your life because you don't want them to worry.
Your close friend is the victim of a scandalous rumour. It sounds and looks as if it was what really happened. But when people tell you about it, you stand up infront of the crowd of people and defend her name, even though you have not spoken to her. Instead of thinking about the rumour and whether its true or not, all that is in your head is that she must be going through such a painful and humilating time and all you want is to support her. Your bestfriend got pregnant is extremely ashamed of what happened. You help her keep the matter as quiet as you can. When people ask you for information like they always do, you totally go out of your way to protect her namesake, even at the expense of sacrificing your own.
Your brother has got a secret, You kinda know about it but because he doesn't want to tell you, you respect his choice and keep your distance. You know that even if it would better if he told you because you are the key person to help him, you give him his dignity.You feel embarassed because your son has not been going to church. Everyone is nagging at you to do something about it but you understand that love is about giving him a choice. Despite people telling you how "horrid" it is that he is not going to church, you tell them, I have given him a choice and not try to manipulate him because that's what love is.
We parents let our daughter marry the man she loves, even though we feel that isn't the best choice. But we know that the more important thing is to let her be happy. Maybe that is how we know God loves us, because he could have made humans to behave like robots that do good only. By letting us choose, he is loving us and letting us live.
We want the person we love to be truly happy.
We seek the person's entire benefit, even though at our own detriment and expense.
We protect the person's name, identity, and not allow anyone to speak evil of them.
We never think about how tired we are, how sad, and the hardship we are going through.
We let them choose.
We love them by actions and words, and never once think about how its going to be returned.
We love sometimes by breaking away, distancing ourselves.
We love sometimes loudly, most of the time, silently.
God knows. | | |
| Turn Out the Lights or Light the Fire?, by Phil Ware
I remind you to fan into flames the spiritual gift God gave you
when I laid my hands on you. (2 Timothy 1:6 NLT)
All the lights are off in the house. The quiet stillness of winter
settles down into its own deep darkness. The house is strangely quiet
now that all the company has gone. You take a few moments to let the
year come to a gentle end after months of fury, fear, and frustration.
Yes, there is something relaxing about the soft glow and the tangy
aroma of dying embers as you kick back in the recliner and let the
year's end gently sink down around you. The wispy trails of smoke slide
up the chimney with the muffled crackle of ember remains that melt away
into ash.
What does it all mean -- this gentle ending of the year?
What does the future hold?
Where are going to be a year from now?
What about the economy -- will it hold and will the recovery
continue?
What about our world -- will good things emerge from all the hope
and promise found at the end of a year of war, bloodshed, and fear?
What about our church -- will we get past our problems and on to
the real work of God?
What about our family -- can the broken hearts be mended and the
old wounds be healed?
What are we to make of this late night moment of grace and its
quiet ministry of rest?
Each year ends with a whimper -- not so much on New Year's Eve with its
partying and wildness, but late on New Year's Day. For many folks, it's
the last respite at the end of a long holiday season and before the
high rpm's of a new year of work begin again. It is also a moment of
decision for many of us. Underneath all the resolutions -- that most
folks know deep in their hearts that they will never keep -- we have
some smoldering dreams for things not yet accomplished and for goals
not yet achieved. In many ways, our futility with largely superficial
New Year's resolutions becomes our insulation against looking at those
real goals and fanning into flame the smoldering embers of our dreams.
Underneath the façades of our beginning of the year
hoopla lie the dying embers of yesterday -- of dreams not yet roused
and hopes not yet raised. We sit at a moment of opportunity when the
night's dying embers can be gathered and fanned into fire, or they can
remain scattered in the ashen soot to slowly die away.
Don't let the dying holiday rush and final gasp of partying steal away
from you this golden moment of reflection and promise. Yes, enjoy the
rest and the aroma that goes with the dying of evening embers. However,
let them also be a reminder that God longs to breathe on the glowing
hopes and dreams he has placed in your heart. Let his Holy Spirit fan
them into flame until there is something new and vibrant in your life
that is on fire with the grace and power of God.
The year is coming to its end. We will determine whether or not we will
turn off the lights for another year on the holy passions God has
placed inside us or if we will be warmed into flame with the presence
of God's holy fire. The choice is ours ... as we enjoy the last few
wisps, the tangy aroma, and the final crackle of our dying evening
fire.
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| Touching Jesus, by Amy Nappa
Imagine a busy street in a bustling city. People are milling about,
making purchases, chasing after their children, avoiding traffic.
Scattered around them, in doorsteps and on street corners, are the
homeless, the poor, and the disabled. One of these is a woman so sick
that she lacks the strength to kick away the rats biting at her feet.
In spite of her pain and misery, no one seems to notice her.
Then a tiny woman stops. "Can I help you?" she asks. "Can you answer
me?"
The sick woman merely moans in response. So, in spite of her small
frame, the tiny woman named Agnes picks up the poor lady, carries her
to a nearby hospital, and asks for help. "This woman is dying," is the
sharp reply. "It's obvious she has no money, and besides, from the
looks of her she's got a highly contagious disease. We aren't touching
her. Now get out!"
But Agnes is adamant: "I'm not leaving until someone helps this woman!
She persists stubbornly in her demand until, finally, the hospital
staff relents. They admit the sick woman, and Agnes leaves.
Over the days that follow, Agnes cannot rid her mind of this incident.
She continues to see poor and dying people all around her in the
streets of the city -- people no one else seems to see. "These people
need a place to die in peace," she thinks to herself, "a place without
gnawing rats and gawking eyes. A place that is clean, quiet, and where
someone cares. A place where they can know the love of Jesus."
Agnes approaches the city officials and presents her case. "If
you will donate a place, I will do the rest," she says. They agree and
allow her to use an abandoned building next to a local temple.
Agnes names the building Place of the Pure Heart and gathers other
workers to help her. They roam the streets of the city looking for
dying people to bring to their house of rest. As if this challenge
wasn't enough for Agnes and her friends, trouble erupts in the
neighborhood. The people who belong to the temple next door are angry.
"She's not of our religion!" they fume. "She's going to convert the
people she's helping to her own religion. We've got to stop her!"
Some of them pelt the workers with stones as they bring in the dying.
Others go to the city officials with their righteous concerns, and a
police chief is assigned to the case.
When the chief visits Place of the Pure Heart, he sees things that both
disgust him and touch his heart. Agnes is caring for a woman with
maggots crawling out of open sores, smiling at her and speaking words
of love. The other workers are caring for people in similar conditions.
The police chief returns to the angry temple worshipers. "I'll be glad
to kick this woman and her friends out of the building," he tells them.
"Only before I do, you must get your sisters and mothers to take over
the work these women are already doing."
The crowd quietly disperses, dropping their complaint. They keep on
with the rock throwing, however, and continue to shout threats at Agnes
and her friends. Time passes, and the tensions continue. Then one day a
different sort of crowd gathers outside the Place of the Pure Heart.
Agnes goes to investigate. "He's got cholera!" someone cries out.
"Don't go near him! Don't touch him!"
The man before them is drowning in his own vomit, yet no one will help
him -- no one except Agnes, of course. She takes the man inside, washes
him, and puts him into a clean bed, where he soon dies.
This story is true. Now let me fill you in on some of the details. The
busy streets were in Calcutta, India. The man with cholera who was
given a clean place to die was a respected Hindu priest who belonged to
the temple next-door. (He might even have been one of those who'd been
tormenting Agnes and her friends.) And because of Agnes's loving
touches in his last moments of life, the other Hindus stopped harassing
the Place of the Poor Heart.
And Agnes? You and I know her better by the name she was given when she
became a nun, Teresa; or as she was named by the Pope's orders when she
began her own convent, Mother Teresa.8
It's amazing to consider that Mother Teresa gained worldwide
recognition by simply taking the words of Jesus to heart and obeying
them. She didn't seek fame and fortune. She didn't ask everyone to
applaud her and give her glory. She simply obeyed Jesus by feeding the
poor and caring for the sick. For this she won the Nobel Peace Prize.
Her response to the honor? "I am unworthy."9 She turned all the
attention and gifts that came with the great prize back to the poor and
dying, inspiring others to serve beside her.
Mother Teresa touched the bodies of those no one else would. She could
not physically heal them. She couldn't offer them expensive medicines
and world-class doctors. She simply offered the love of Jesus, and as a
result, her touch reverberated around the world.
Take time to consider the exhortations of Mother
Teresa to us:
"When we touch the sick and needy, we touch the suffering body of
Christ." "Someone once told me that not even for a million dollars
would they touch a leper. I responded: 'Neither would I. If it were
a case of money, I would not even do it for two million. On the
other hand, I do it gladly for love of God.'" "Do you know that
right where you live, there are many people in the streets?
Hundreds come every day to our places, just for a little food, a
little human warmth, a smile, a handshake-nothing more. Do you know
that?" "Since we cannot see Christ, we cannot express our love to
Him. But we do see our neighbor, and we can do for him what we
would do for Christ if He were visible. Let us be open to God, so
that He can use us. Let us put love into action. Let us begin with
our family, with our closest neighbors. It is difficult, but that
is where our work begins. We are collaborators with Christ."
Now reflect on her words of prayer to Jesus:
"Dearest Lord ... Though you hide yourself behind the unattractive
disguise of the irritable, the exacting, the unreasonable, may I
still recognize you, and say: "Jesus, my patient, how sweet it is
to serve you."
Mother Teresa saw the face of Jesus in each person she touched. Do you?
Father of Mercy, let me see the beauty of your presence behind the pain
of this world. Open my eyes to see the face of Jesus in those in need.
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." (Matthew 25:40)
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