candid phone photo during baptism service last Sunday @ YWCA

just a day before good Friday and unlike other years, I'm heading to a friend's church for service tonight. Mandarin service, no less. I think my eyes will be widening a lot not because of what that is taught but because my stupid brain can't translate fast enough.

another thing different? the questions I've gotten today.

why today? what's the significance? so how is Sunday different from Friday? why does He give me life only to reject me on my deathbed?

I've never been so careful in picking the words to say. I know he's asking because he genuinely wants to understand. not to fight with me. not because he wants to believe. not because he wants to find ways to beat it down. he simply wants to understand what I'm thinking. no strings or conditions attached. and our working relationship makes it so easy for us to sit down and consider all these things, most of the time agreeing to disagree, and still work together over projects.

so I shared a little with the CG girls. to ask them for their prayers that I'd continue to be wise and gentle in my words. no emotional blackmail. no "this is what I experienced". simply, "this is what the bible says". (whether the bible is the truth or not, that's something my friend has to resolve with himself.)

then one of the girls shared her struggles.

honestly, it makes me so incredibly thankful to watch people frown and mull over the word. I still struggle with the word. I struggle with it every day of my life. what God says. what God commands. what God thinks. it always reminds me of a conclusion I came to after talking to a Brother.

I struggle because I care. the day I stop struggling is the day I become indifferent to the word: the day I become indifferent to God.

I pm'ed the girl. assured her that her struggles were not unfounded. that it's natural. so we're going to meet up. to talk about our struggles. to work together to understand better what Christianity means.




I don't think I've ever been more excited in my life. ^-^

there is peace and joy to be found in the little things in life.

I've started to pick up the pen again. but instead of words, i've been mindlessly doodling. the usual nonsense. swirls. strange patterns. little shadow figures.

it doesn't mean anything to anyone but these little things make my day a little more bearable. maybe i should start painting again. i haven't picked up a brush for ages. like since secondary school. and i used to paint all the time as a kid. what happened? art classes happened. ahahahaha.

but really, it's the little things in life that can bring simple joy.


like the other night, i was at the cab stand, trying to get home. the cab arrived and said it was heading to Orchard, which i wasn't. three persons from the party of 5 behind me said they were going to Shangri-La. so they took the cab. when the next cab came, i asked the remaining couple where they were headed to. they said Shang as well. so i asked them to share the cab with me since it wasn't too out of the way.

in the cab, i learnt more about the elderly couple. they were both from UK and moved to Perth in 1981. today, they are semi-retired with gorgeous kids and grandchildren. with time on their hands as all they have now is their small family business, they've been traveling around Asia. before Singapore, they were in Hanoi and Malacca. and i had managed to catch them on their last night in Singapore.

When we were reaching the hotel, the lady told the gentleman to "remember to pay for the ride". i rejected their offer, saying that they were guests. to take the trip as a gesture to remember Singapore by. the gentleman laughed and scolded me as he handed me a $10. I insisted that it was too much and a $5 would suffice. he laughed again and thanked me as he jumped out of the cab, leaving the $10 behind.

when i reached home, the cab fare was a mere $12.50. the detour didn't add much to the value so i handed the cab driver $20, telling him to keep the change. he stared at the money in shock and told me it was too much. i laughed and told him that the tourists had given me too much anyway and that it may make his night just a little shorter.

it's the little things.

the other day when heading to S's house for dinner on the train, this man near me started coughing violently. his whole body wrecked with each cough. looking old, thin, tanned and not exactly very clean, i watched as the working adults moved away from him uncomfortably. it wasn't that he was coughing with his mouth open. he covered his mouth carefully and was trying to hold back the coughing fit as his whole body shook. people still inched away and gave him weird stares.

my stop was next so i hurriedly dug through my bag for tissue to hand to him. no tissue, damnit. i saw him get off his seat and head to the door just as my fingers closed over a small medicine pack. i still had my herbal lozenges from the doctor's.

we both got off the train and i quickly took out the medication and tore off a little strip of lozenges. i walked towards him and handed it to him. he stared at me. i smiled, completely uncertain if he understood much english, "medicine. for your cough. your throat."

the man took the medicine, stared at it for a second before turning back to look at me, a bright smile on his face, "Thank you. God bless you, dear. Thank you."




i don't get happiness from their happiness. my day is made better knowing that i have the opportunity to make someone's day better and i used that opportunity. i don't even feel immense glee knowing that i helped. instead, there's a small joy that comes from the peace within.

D asked me why i share these little stories with others. i told him that i wanted people to know that these are little things that have no impact on us but amazing impact on those who receive a little love. that it's not hard to extend a hand and a little heart to these strangers. i wanted to share how easy it is to help.


it really is the little things that bring the peace which leads to simple joy.

so on Sunday after class, i stepped on the weighing scale. the last time i stepped on a scale was in Nov after i horrendously recovered a little too well after the bout of gastric flu and food poisoning.

maybe it was all the water i was chugging during the break.. but.


omg. all that hard work. and i'm not even at my ideal mark? wth? all i did was lose 1 kg since Nov. really??


on hindsight, i was at my ideal weight when i had that 2-week long stomach flu. when i had no appetite and couldn't eat without the food coming back out.

and judging by the way i was stuffing my face before dinner yesterday...

i wish i didn't love food so much. T-T

after a supposed night of chilling turned into something way madder, i really need to give my body a break.

i don't recover as fast anymore. damnit. i need to practice self-control in front of champagne.


on the other hand, i'm still amazed at the internal clockwork that decides enough is enough and sends me home in one piece even without others knowing. waking up in my own bed at 3 am to see a flurry of texts from everyone asking me where i am from midnight onwards... it just happens.

i'm not taking it for granted. God has been good to me but i don't want the day to come where i can't find my own way home. sigh. self-control.. self-control.