Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. Romans 5:1-5
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1-2By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus. And that’s not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise.
3-5There’s more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we’re hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary—we can’t round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!
(The Message)
Where to start?
war and peace has been coming up in conversations lately. we constantly want to enter that place of rest, in which we can say ‘this is exactly where i want to be’. a lot of our striving is towards that aim. one of the things i desire the most now is to be able to say - i am who i want to be, even now, i am fulfilled, happy, here. one of the things that breaks my heart the most is that i cannot… thinking about it just leaves me with a devastating feeling of brokenness. it is tempting to go down that road of self-condemnation, counting the reasons, blaming the bad decisions, lining them up in a row. its a disappointment that’s very painful, a disillusionment which is real. i have often driven myself into dark corners thinking of this.
(but now that i think of it—it must be only natural that we don’t always find ourselves where we need to be-it is somewhere we arrive at, after all..and being hit by the full measure of not being there yet might be a crucial phase.)
in the final month of 2009 i actively struggled with this. often in turmoil, my mind, heart, body, spirit all want different things. my body is at war.. going in so many directions, all tangled up inside and out. i feel like i’m living my life in pieces..double-minded in almost everything.
recognising these things for what they were, i found myself in the chaos and devastation of war. even in war, or thru it, i find the only light - the one thing thats settled in the midst of all the chaos. only one compass that points the right directions, only one dependable truth, only source of peace. in war i saw the opposing elements in my life for what they were, and could see my own need of a true hope. perhaps this is what is meant when Jesus, God in the form of man, is called Prince of Peace. When i focus on the turmoil, trying to figure out each individual issue or make sense of the whole of it, i find myself grappling at loose rope, lost and circling endlessly. When i focus on Him, i find comfort - that if i know of nothing else i can do, i can put myself in the hands of a God who is good , who knows whats best, who is the one confirmed truth, solid and unshakeable. Perhaps this is why we are told to love God with all our heart, our mind, our strength and our spirit - to be one in love with him, to pursue this love that’ll pull our selves together.
The new year is meaningful as a symbol of a new beginning. its amazing how powerful the idea of a new beginning is, to be able to inspire people so; though technically the day shifts from thursday to friday like in any other week, but just the idea of a new beginning energizes people to want to change things, to start things, to work on being better. it is perhaps the inspiration that comes from looking forward, instead of backwards.
This feels like a new beginning for me too — i need to begin from the basic of all things-pursuing this one love for my Maker, actively seeking to understand all it means. to focus on that, so that in this pursuit i may understand myself and be drawn back together into one. the aim is to keep moving forward, the only way really - Paul was right when he said run, run the race looking ahead at the prize, release the unnecessary things that hold you back, forget all that lies behind..just keep your eyes on the prize. from the time of war, i find a new beginning where new life may sprout, moving forward towards real peace.that we may enter real rest.
This is what my anthuriums look like for now - wilting and yellowed.when i got them about a month ago, my invested interest was in the anticipation that the white lily-like flowers would bloom, and make things lovely, bringing life and joy. Now, however, its just sad to look at. i confess, i didnt care for it the way i should’ve..for a time i just left it there to fend for itself. there were times along the way i did make an effort, but i realize now it was half-hearted —halfhearted trying to find out what was wrong and how to fix it, half hearted action.the sort that doesnt require much. and i expected them to become lovely just like that - expected to enjoy the fruits without putting in the necessary sowing. i’ve ruined some plants that way before.
it wouldve been easy to just continue ignoring it, to let it remain there and to get used to the yellowing leaves and the unloveliness.left for long it will eventually rot away, purpose unfulfilled. but today i got reminded about them again. i looked it up and identified that it was likely that the roots are infected and rotting due to unsuitable care at the beginning. when i dug out the roots i realized - there is still hope. some of the roots are still healthy, some stalks are still young, green and growing, and even for those parts that had withered dry, the stems were still green and alive below them. i snipped off the shoots from whichever point it turned bad, and got rid of whatever surrounding soil that could’ve been infected too. i replanted them, in new soil, and added to it the things that were necessary from the start, according to the instructions on the right environments in which this particular plant would grow. in this way, at least i’m beginning to actively nurture the plant, and i have hope that once the environment is right, it will bloom. i’ve read that once it does, it will continue blooming for years.
In the bible, 1 Peter 1:23 says that we have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the word of God, which is living and enduring. Things fade, wither and die…we are careless and let them sometimes. But the word of God is a seed which is imperishable—God the gardener planting a seed that cannot die; enduring, until the right season and environment, where it will bloom. For ‘all men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; grass withers and flowers fall, but the word of the Lord stands forever.’ Just as with my anthuriums, we have to get rid of the things that infect us and drain the life out of us - There is a seed already planted in us that will not die, therefore we must rid ourselves of the things that choke us -malice, deceit, hypocrisy, envy, slander - and crave for growth.
if there are things that bring you down despairing, remember that we had friends, who, a long time ago, in a world not too different from ours, were in despair too…Lost in a world full of darkness without a lamp - with no source to draw from
but, as hope would have it, the sky -
the promise of a saviour who was to come, God himself, the hope to save them from themselves - deliverance from a life of sinful misery.
With him would come Grace, and tho they may not have understood it yet then, they held out for it.
And so we, too, may wait today
for the saviour who has come and brought hope - grace - love - all that we may cling to in the midst of darkness.
He has come, Hope has arrived -
and we wait still, for Him to come again.
So she thought she’d have an imaginary conversation with him, and that maybe that could take the edge off things for awhile. It wouldn’t be the first time anyway - there have been times, when out of no where she could conjure up an image of him at will. She would go out to the balcony, alone, and there he would be, just waiting to listen. waiting to share that moment again. and in those conversations, they would always understand each other.
she would look at him, observe his hair, his eyes, his face. his hands. anticipating what he would say next, the things his eyes are saying - because each thing is a clue. sometimes - often - she misreads the signs, and reacts the wrong way, and the mood is set, and everything for the night turns out wrong - just like that its so hard to recover to the place where they could catch that twinkle in each others eyes, laugh together. but sometimes it feels like they’re right there in the same place - and its those times where she feels the happiest.
there are no shadows, no secrets, his eyes not hiding a secret thought being kept away from her.
‘this is what i’m feeling,’ she’d say. ‘these are the thoughts that grieve my heart, these are the things that keep me awake at night and cast a shadow over my head when i wake up’.
and she would explain them to him, and even if the words may not make sense, he would understand.
and though he wasn’t there from the start, he would understand precisely the moments in her past that figures so dreadfully as gashes in her story thus far - the lurid splotches that taint the portrait of her life, like stains on an otherwise perfect masterpiece that cannot ever be reproduced again, so ruined that the only thing now obvious is the big mistake that’s occured. he would understand how these things still affected her, still came back like ghosts to haunt her, all the time.
and he would recognize the same heartbreak in himself as he notices how their masterpiece has duplicated the wretchedness of addiction and the addicted - ugliness repeated and reproduced, further reinforced.
*
She takes journeys across spaces, across time, across the recesses of her mind. She lugs these bags with her, her life’s possessions, keeping them from prying eyes looking for clues into her life. In this way, she guards them jealously. She places distances between her and him, yet not being able to burn the bridges for nostalgia - and for hope of something good that could still be.
One day i was walking by some shops and this is what i saw. A double take was in order, of course. It was something you could only see at random ..and things like that are exactly the kind of thing that thrills me trigger-happy.
quite the vicious looking kitty.
there was another orange cat at another chair around the same table. kitty siestas are apparently preferred on chairs people can now no longer sit in at kopitiams.
And a picture of blind mice, just by association (or for contrast) :
Speaking of mice,
this is just a brilliant looking tree. Like i did when i took this picture, you’d probably see the tree first, and then the other brilliant looking thing.
This kitten came to visit earlier, terrified when we took it upon ourselves to save it from itself. expensive Schwarzkopf shampoo and an excruciating blow dry later,it got comfy beneath the settee, learning the art of fascination at fingers, feet, moving strings, and anything else that moved. a captivated audience is captivating - we had hours of fun and excitement with kitty-no-name-yet.
Speaking of fun and excitement,
this is what my ‘table’ ‘space’ looked like:
i never used it as a table, it was just where i stashed all my little stuff i didnt know where else to put. the reason i took this picture tho is cos i would have to segregate them into bags for mooving again. And just like taking apart my stuff to be placed into random bags, displacing ‘my life’ that way, i feel now a need to take apart the things in my life and review them again, wondering when i move in again, what will stay, what would have to go, what goes into arrangement where. i don’t know if its coincidence or if its linked to one another, this ‘moving day’ of the outside and the inside.
And to wrap up,
what my camera feeds on.
it drained another two batteries just halfway taking this picture too.
i hope its pleased.
goodnight, tuesday.
