I've unfortunately learnt that the voices don't go away. They start out as incoherent white noises that lurk in the background. And when the moment is oportune, they creep in with the daggers that cut open the doubt.

I've thankfully also learnt to stop looking for the voice that tells me that they are wrong. I pause. I breathe. I sit back and wait for the whispers to fade before I review the situation to see what I can do rectify it through conversations.

No walls. No defenses. Just me with my God behind me reminding me that those dark days are gone and He's the light that makes sure I never step back into them. Then even if things start to fall apart, I have Him to keep my actions, words, and heart in check to show that I mean it when I say I will do all things that please Him.

I am not responsible for how people react to me. But I am responsible for how I treat them and respond to them. And I will keep on keeping on with both eyes on His outstretched pierced hands to correct and watch myself.

May I keep all these things in mind to never let the warped voices take over and take control to lead me down the path of self-destruction again.

at a meeting...

Important Person (IPS): It's like that book JR... that man...

Audience: Tolkien?

IPS: yes yes. him. his book Harry Potter.

Audience: (murmurs) Lord of the Rings...

IPS: ah yes! Tolkien wrote Lord of the Rings and he spoke of the Philosopher stone.


The room stared at one another in muffled murmurs and giggles out of politeness.

I actually felt winded and lost for words as I tried to recollect myself. To make matters worse, a colleague in the meeting who knew that LOTR was my favorite fiction and movie of all time stared at me and burst out laughing, as if he could see the daggers stabbing my heart repeatedly. I could only manage a weak smile back as he tried to fight his laughter.

oh my goodness.. WHY.

The one thing that grieves me most isn't ignorance or negligence. The one thing that grieves me most and cuts the deepest is when someone can look me in the eye and say...

"Yes it's in the Bible. But I am/the world is/reality is..."

And it hurts. It hurts to see the sheep hear His voice and choose to intentionally walk away from it.

The shepherd is good. The shepherd is wise. The shepherd is loving. We may not always agree with it because our human nature argues against it but the Ultimate Shepherd knows His sheep best. He is not a super-sized version of us. He is much greater and more awesome and in a different league from us. 

So why do we consciously and deliberately disobey Him?

Praying. Praying so hard to keep on keeping on. Sigh.

After a grueling intense 4 days of gluttony on His word, I find myself both enriched, intrigued, and so so so tired.

Then when I met T to head home together, she mentioned that one of her friends spoke to her about me. Her friend spoke about how she saw my conviction of my faith, and the drive and love I had for it.

I don't remember speaking to that friend. Which means one of two things: my memory is failing me or she must have been next to me during one of the discussions though we weren't in the same group.

Embarrassing really.

Simply because it wasn't me speaking. Or in a sense, I may have presented it with my words and mouth but it really was the Holy Spirit working in me. I take no pride in my words and thoughts and deeds that glorify Him because He enables my ministry. And also, what did she hear me say??? If it could help someone in their walk, I would love to know what it was so I can help another similarly.

Even then, there's so much to think about and reflect. To ponder and be challenged by. Still, this little whale will keep on keeping on for Him and remember soli deo gloria.

All I do for my ministry, I do it for Him. All the hours, the tiredness, the frustrations with myself, the headaches.. it's all for Him.

So why do I feel so disheartened and dejected at man's failure to help himself to grow in the Lord when I'm here trying to help him?


I can only pray that He continues to help me keep my eyes on Him as my motivation, and not the response of people.

so I've finally caved.

I've subscribed for Starhub Go Select.

and now my best friend, and significant other, and one I really have an appt most with is my laptop and phone.

and my kindle. can't forget the kindle.


I'm in trouble. sigh.

things I've dreamt of seeing but never thought I'd actually see it...

someone cooking soft boil eggs in the pantry.


of course it's legit work here. surrounded by eggs, raw and cooked, with a notebook and timer and egg cooking machine. now I can only hope he takes me up on my eating services. jidaaaaaaan~

A year ago, I was sitting with my head down. That figurative tail between my legs. Crying because I never felt more lost or broken. Desolate because I couldn't get through the day without counting my breaths and popping a pill. Without a day where my palms weren't  wrought with deep finger nail marks and my mind muddled with giddiness and nausea (unfortunate side effects of the medication at times).

But yet there was never a day I felt far from Him. I cried for, leaned on, and looked to His unfailing nature and love to sustain me through days of my own downfall. I heard His voice reminding me to trust Him more than my own convincing me to do likewise.

"At My time. All at My time," I often heard in the murkiness of my own thoughts. There was no way I could have convinced myself of that anyway.

Today, all I need to do is stand up to hunt for a chocolate and crazy L will stand up and say, "Stress eating? Talk to me."

He's been good. So good. To remind me that I'm simply a victim of circumstances and not of people. That I'm surrounded by people who feel the same way. By people who I can rant and bitch to before we remind ourselves that it's the circumstances that are bad, not the people. And it makes the day easier to get through... the work easier to deal with.

And as such, I am grateful for the trials and tribulations for reminding me that He's all I need to sustain me through the days. That He provides the quiet spaces to cry in as much as He provides the listening ear.

And I am grateful.

As I learn more about theology to wrap my head around the meditation of His word, I've learnt to accept more things.

Like the fact that depression is a manifestation of sin. Not that I'm more sinful than others (which may still be a true fact but not an effect), but because sin is in the world and I am a sinner. I am imperfect. I am broken. I am helpless and hopeless. And therefore susceptible to depression the same way I am to the common cold and death. They stay with me to manifest as weakness or strengths at the oddest of times according to Him.

And even more so, my condition reminds me of how much my body now means nothing to me. My condition will follow me through my life the same way my shoulder injury and odd skeletal structure of my right metatarsal will follow me through life. These things never go away as long as I'm in this day and age.

But I have that perfect hope of a new body when He returns. Not now but when He comes back, He makes me perfect not because of what I've done but because of what He's done. And while that defies the human logic and ego, that's what I cling to with my broken and contrite spirit.

And I am grateful.

It's 2.30 am right now and I can't remember the last time I looked up at the stars. As I did, I remembered the neighborhood dog barking at something at the time I got home. And I thought of you. I remember you barking back in conversation. How you would go silent when we gave you a warning. How you would manja with your blue steel pose and melt me, and my hand would still make its way to you to pet away the pout. How you would flop to the side and guide me to scratch your belly the way you like it.

In the past few days, I hear your whines and cry for help at night at times, only to realize it's a bird mocking me or a creaking gate.

One week on and it still hurts. I'm still crying and I miss you so much. But I also hope you're somewhere up there running around with Baron.

I'll meet you when I'm done here. I don't know how long it will be. Between now and then, until I see you again, I will still love you. Happy birthday, my dear little boy.

Today is the one day that social media is flooded with emo/witty singles or gloating/genuinely "I NEED TO SHOW THE WORLD MY SO IS THE BEST" couples.

And today is the day I leant that poor eating decisions and lack of love will result in me missing the last few moments of Project Timothy while nursing a gastric attack.


No more apple and tea on an almost empty stomach. A diet life is not a life for me.

On the phone with a working partner this morning and out of habit, I asked him how his weekend was. He told me about his dad's birthday and how his uncle and dad revived their childhood band and it was a riot.

Then he asked me how mine was.

"Oh. Depressing. Cancelled appts. Tried to block out stuff and stick my emotions 6 feet under by drinking too much sake and letting decadence entertain me.. because I was going to murder my dog on Saturday. Cried so much that my face was swollen.. yea. Just peachy."

Definitely did not say that. Instead, I forced a smile through the phone.

"The usual. Friday night drinks. Saturday was nice. Last day of CNY where everyone is supposed to come together and catch up. Had the entire family over and company is always good."


I know that you're in a better place. Be good and I'll see you when I get there too.

"He alone is faithful and true
He alone knows what's best for you
God is too wise to be mistaken
God is too good to be unkind
When you don't understand
When you don't see His plan
When you can't trace His hand
Trust His heart"
- "Trust His heart"


I do. I really do. I just wish it didn't hurt so bad too.