chronicles of young

More reflections in the face of looming deadline (15 Aug, and actually I can plead 1 week extension or not submit the 'best', will get to that later on) + fast BPM and tense shoulders, locked left jaw signaling anxiety. I feel sorry to my body- "Thank you for sticking in it through in there"- I hope my body receives this. Feels a bit like bad time management to be writing this in the face of work- but I know it works, and I lean into the part of me that sees that my 'success' thus far has been to do what might seem counter-intuitive. On top of the emotional turbulence from the conflict and consequent perception of relationship fall-out that I am trying to calm (not too badly), yesterday I had to meet with a young child in emotional distress. Asking God why lol, does He really think I have the capacity to deal with all these? I will have the eventual victory; He is sovereign through it all- waiting on this. He was crying so hard, the fight for connection I felt...

 Am I experiencing grief?  It is actually weird because one very big part is that, I don't feel like I know the person of 奶奶 very well. Maybe there is that sadness in there; I will never get to know her like I am knowing my 婆婆 now.  Also, I keep recalling how I really didn't like her at all for most part of my life. Whenever she stayed with us, we shared the same room. I wouldn't really like the smell and sometimes feel like she is a bit dirty. The great thing was, I was really scared of the spirits and ghosts when I was young. So having someone sleeping in the same room with me was a source of comfort.  But really, for the most part, I remember my brother and I even had quarrels over whose turn was it to sit next to 奶奶 at dinnertime. This might be fabricated memory; but I think 奶奶 also paid more attention to my brother as a male grandson. And the other male cousins as well. But well, this doesn't really matter now- she was also a product of her times.  There is...

There was once a family with two children. They were born just two years apart and their parents were so happy to have a complete family with both a boy and a girl.The parents loved the children very much and did not hesitate to give them what they needed. So although the siblings fought, and the little girl even once scratched him so hard it bled, they knew that they were a happy family.  One day however, the older brother discovered that he had no heart. He found out when he could not cry after he was bullied. He knew that it should hurt, but he was like an empty can. When the parents saw the red marks on his arms, they felt so upset that they wanted to shred the bully to pieces. But Mother kept quiet, because she knew that he had no heart. And he did not have a heart because when the children were very young, Mother had took his heart out. This was so that he will not feel any pain because Father was very very sick at that time, and he loved his father very much. The girl too lo...

Watched this Mexican film yesterday and the different layers enfolded made for much musing (which is why usually after films like these I will be quiet for awhile to let thoughts form and settle; after which I can scoop them up again or let something stir them up). Today at the hospital with 奶奶 (except that I call her nai3 nai3, and not nai3 nai as in proper Mandarin), I caught her at a rare alert moment where she was in the present. It was bittersweet to be able to tell 奶奶 that it was dark because it rained, and be understood; yet also parroting the phrases spoken in Hainanese back at her because I really couldn't figure what she was saying.  Was reminded of Zikril in the film again- how the language represented a kind of power and alternate worldview, reflecting a beauty of human connection that the dominant lingua franca does not. I wonder how the Hainanese worldview is like- from my rudimentary vocabulary of phrases and watching nostalgic videos of Hainan, it appears to ...

Tung Ping Chau, 2015 A random reflection that walking from place to place is like an intentional resistance to our modern culture of efficiency and desire for constant engagement. I realise that in recent years I tend to pack my day to fit in the various things. Which in itself is not evil, and yet too many of these kind of days actually hollows my (our) soul(s). We are not created to function on autopilot, but to feel and glorify God in all that we do. Today was the first Saturday in awhile that I had the whole day largely unplanned- just cousin's housewarming and then my parents and I had a deliciously free day full of things we could explore. We walked so much, and I really enjoyed that I didn't need to check the time to go off elsewhere. Just being present and enjoying the present. A ray of shalom I guess. And yet to remain in the tension- not yet. Was quite grieved when Mum flat outright refused to even look at the evangelistic booklet left at our door.

It's the third day knowing that I have been accepted into the PhD programme (i.e. I'm getting a bit nervous about having to make a clear decision soon). I thank God for watercolour; I usually lapse into thinking about God as an impersonal Being, but painting creation- the sky, mountains, seas, vast expanses- helps me to remember again that God knows the whole of me and I know Him too. 18 Jan 站在大海边，才发现自己有多渺小， 而又发现，我是伟大神 拣选的。 19 Jan 往前看那前头的路程 你世世代代做我们的居所 你使人归于尘土 叫我们数算自己的日子 得着智慧的心 It is really amazing looking at this because I'd initially wanted to paint a horse, but screwed up so I had to paint something over it. A tent because I'd just read about Jesus at the Feast of Tabernacles, and also Mongolians use gers. Later on, next to 奶奶 and thinking about going away, Psalm 90 came to mind. And so this watercolour took on a whole different meaning for me. Where do I go from here? Pondering on how things will be for my family, a thought which I...

Well I'm also happy for this part in my life too, though its really quite scary/tiring to experience barely controlled tears. How do you feel? The question I train myself to ask my clients, the same question that is so hard to answer. Both because its legit hard to describe feelings, and uncomfortable to answer. I sense that this time, there cannot be quick answers or resolutions to the tangle inside. 好像在和自己玩冒险游戏。But the irony is, this risk is to take with people. To make myself known , to give and to ( highlights ) receive . How to do that without getting burnt-out or self-centred is something that bewilders me. I just had a conversation with Mum about my menstrual cramps. 我的 team 现在很复杂 , I say as an explanation for the increased work stress cited as a reason for the cramps. Before I could continue, she jumped in to say 我的工作那边才复杂啊！ and proceeds to say more about her work.  When that happened I thought  Oh. This is how I feel unlistened to and it could re...

I am glad that I have a really meaningful (not well-taken but whatever) photo of you. In the photo, you were looking on at L. pen down his response to: 'What is Man's purpose in life?" We were all wearing the camp shirt emblazoned with Romans 10:13-15. How beautiful is your feet! Thank you for your kind cheery heart that looks out for those on the fringes and seeks greater love amidst the strife. I am very sad, but also somewhat joyful too. You have brought people together like how you would have wanted and worked for. Father of compassion and God of all comfort, You have not left us orphans in the grief.  Even as I grief, not just for this dear child of Yours but also for mum's response this morning, it turns into something beautiful by faith.  Watch and wait and see, what is yet to be

Eid al-Fitr 2018 first saw me joining the throngs of Malay families and young couples milling around the Geylang Serai bazaar. Artery-clogging char kuay sotong But I actually liked the walk from Paya Lebar MRT to the bazaar more than the bazaar itself; trailing behind the 2 Malay families with their young energetic children made me somehow very happy: "Ikan! Ikan!" the cherubic younger sister squealed as she leaned as far as she could against the railing. At her Nenek's chiding "Payar!", her abang pulled her away, and they jogged along, abang's hand holding his sister's. Then, blessed koinonia at GBG Oikos: The last iftar for 2018- when walking down the whole stretch of Geylang Road The best lontong everrrr Friday: Chocolate- drizzled Custard Creams sans cream- biskuit Raya style. Then we stuffed ourselves with popiah and Chinese tea for lunch/tea. The porcelain remind me of how my parents bring us on overseas tr...

从小，要去拜年会让我很不自在。小时候是有点自卑的看别人穿很华丽的新衣，怎么我们一家都没什么打扮。而我又很矛盾的和爸妈比时尚更喜欢舒服。大了些，觉得拜年有点带伤的无聊。就是那种好像被逼在这天要聚在一起的感觉。 然而这三年的初一我爸那边都没能像往年一样在大伯家聚。其实没什么遗憾，只是有些小小的感慨。蛮感恩的。也默默地为家人献上祷告。

And with the last day of Project Masterpiece for the commencement ceremonies tomorrow, this chapter in NUS is really really coming to an end. These past few (crazy busy and blessed) days where I have been traversing familiar places in school, the memories attached to those places put a smile on my face as I recount my blessings. Perhaps it is only as we look back that we see, how beautiful the journey has been. But I have been immensely blessed to already know how blessed I am throughout university- because I have a clear vision and purpose for what I hope to do in NUS and where I want to be. With my own commencement this Monday night, graduation suddenly becomes official (I have made a clear promise to myself not to take advantage of student card discounts anymore), which also means the imminence of work. I was reminded of it just now and I almost couldn't bear to think of how my life will be so drastically changed. Will I be jaded and cease to believe in why I started on the...

Maybe I write this post as a mini self rebuke, maybe an act of subtle self-glorification. "A discerning man keeps wisdom in view, but a fools' eyes wander to the ends of the earth." Proverbs 17:24 Feels like straight in the heart rebuke when I read it this morning.  Dear Mum and Dad, family and friends: I am both sorry and not sorry. Which in effect is not sorry at all. And I am, in my better self, sorry for that. Sorry that I don't really care about the great mess in my room nor the fact that I probably lost my identity card. It really doesn't matter at the end of it, like I said to the utter dismay of my friends in response to the possibility of missing our flight back to Singapore.  After awhile, it kinda sucks being seen as crazy/foolish/needing to be restrained. Of course, there is truth in it. (No, I shall not be tempted into emotional pride and feel like it's me against the world) Yet I hope that some of this other-worldliness is a v...

Still spiteful. The kernel of bitterness, resentment and self-pity burst open this morning and I was one with the pouring rain. I felt like Orual, holding that small, tattered book filled with complaints. Is that how laments actually feel like? Such deep measure of grief tore through me that the loud sounds proceeding forth were so strange, yet that was my real voice. Are we not one, made to live in harmony? I have already forgotten what it was like when the family was truly four. A gentle answer turns away wrath, as the proverb goes. Not much of that from me. The grief was poisoned till the torrents cleared away the layers hiding the resentment I guess. Still hard to love. Almost like I don't know how to, for him anymore. Oh, Brother. Why can't you be like other brothers? I want to love you, Brother. You know we love you, Brother.

The top few songs for the Coachella music and arts festival perturb me. Among them are Alone (Marshmello) and Scared To Be Lonely. When I was forced to sit through the second song in the taxi some time ago, I made a mental note to give it a listen again. Okay I think this is the point I should say that I am slightly more assured after finding out that RadioHead was the main opening act on Day 1 of the festival. Fake Plastic Trees was a earworm in yes, those angst teenage years. ( "It wears him out...It wears him out..." ) Continuing on with my judgment of English pop now, I really felt sad listening/watching the MV of these 2 videos. Not just these, but in generally listening to the pop music now, it felt to me like a kind of indication of a deep hurt in society. Not just a deep hurt, but there seems to be a sense of experiential satisfaction pursued in and of itself. My mind somehow thinks of self-harm ( 'across the river not down the stream' ); has it become...

Have humans always been enthralled by high places? The Tibetans build their temples in the mountains to be closer to the heavens above. Today we trailed behind on the overwhelming kindness and generosity of a Vietnamese family as they ascended up the steep trail in Ba Vi National Park to worship at the shrine. We had the privilege to be privy to this ritual for some special day. Looking at the offerings of money. fragrant branches, a whole chicken... and then their lips moving silently as they knelt before the shrine. What are they praying for, I wonder. How do they see themselves in relation to the gods they are praying to? It was in that high fog-filled place that we had received so much grace freely given. We were so warmly welcomed into their fold, beckoned into the temple to see, invited (many many times) to eat their food, ushered up their van. At one point I remembered thinking: This is also a kind of shalom. This short trip to Hanoi has really brought us to high places...

Over breakfast with Dad, I got angry thinking about 大伯. There is still much unforgiveness and disdain for me I know it. On Saturday at the crematorium I was really trying hard to look at him full-on because I found that it was so hard to look at him with love. So, I want to dispel any notions of romanticism in love within me. I still have this fuzzy-warm notions; which are not entirely unrealistic but they are sweet interruptions in the long journey of loving rather than love's characteristic. The very same Kang that discussed and affirmed that it is the church who extends scandalous grace to peoples that society will not and cannot care for, cannot have this thin definition of love. 不是讨人爱的才爱，爱是在那所谓不值得爱的最赤热. Perhaps for the love-er, this is a hard-won love. Further, it is not from ourselves, like we have this lov...

啊~ 又到了拜六，坐在上个礼拜坐的位置。  荣耀大君王， 欢迎你在我们中间。 你应许了我们，而且是远比我们敢想象或启求的。  真的是化腐朽为神奇，哈哈想到这是我的华文老师跟爸妈说她不能做的。你在我们里面成了奇迹，通过这些渺小胆怯的心灵动工。 好期待主日，Sunday School 后要和姐妹们 (haha literally; it's Mrs Yong and Dilys) 去吃韩国buffet :> 然后回家，静静地在主面前。又是一个充满福分的星期。  过后 | 贪吃记 在从小吃到大的咖啡店等爸妈，都说不饿。看到新开的中国拉面店，就叫了碗一起吃。妈妈说，没拿辣椒啊~ 我就去拿，不小心拿了一大把麻辣油，她竟然都搅进面里。惨了爸爸不吃了。  流了大把鼻涕，舌头麻到痛，不过吃到很爽： 走过香味肉干店，妈妈问，要吃豆沙饼吗？ 我说想吃旗子饼，那种没馅的。  啊！妈妈就走向我因为怕衅臭从来都没去过的店铺，那个五金店卖各种各样的饼干酥饼，看了很开心。两个贪吃婆好像眼看就满足了，没有旗子饼。又走到另一个店铺，那边暖暖的，因为她再磨花生，香味莫名令我快活。又是不同的粿，在那里终于有我们想吃的。Angku kueh <3 一边走一边吃的零食最好吃。咬一口，喂妈妈一口，一人一半感情不散。

It was just 30 cents but I was so proud to be my Daddy's daughter <3 The girl in front of us was going to not buy the bananas because she didn't have enough money, so my Dad topped up for her :') Just today I was thinking about how my parents have brought us up to be so socially conscious- my mum and I laughed at this bawling kid yesterday, and she shared that we have never made a scene in public like this because there will be severe repercussions. That's right I approve, give no chance. That's why I'm among the stricter teachers in Sunday School. At the same time I thought: Then the experience of grace has worn away the accumulated layers of 恥 ( haji /shame).  Various disparate thoughts. No point trying to weave a common narrative thread. I love how I can still be a kid in my parents' eyes, even as I share some of the family burdens as a young adult now. Sometimes I will just call my mum/dad for no reason, I can still playfully fistbump my dad...

Thankful. That I can say that I appreciate my 大姑丈 after today's trip with him to the hospital with 奶奶. We really worked together to ensure that the old one was able to clean her teeth and do a X-Ray properly. She is still very strong despite the age and we were struggling to stop her from pushing away those dental contraptions in her valiant attempt to abort the somewhat distressing process. I can see how much thought he put into this whole process of caregiving. 有很多细节要照顾. While I was thankful for that, I think it was only today that I started to appreciate him as a person. He is really, as the taxi uncle said, 好好先生. Notwithstanding that I still don't really fancy the long messages (those mass forward chain message kind), I appreciate the thought behind him sending them. Will not forget the back view of him wearing the apron, holding 奶奶 up in the X-Ray room while constantly encouraging her to stand, lean forward etc. 真是好多细节要照顾。

One benefit of being a student is that your time is sectioned nicely into semesters, and I am now midway into my final one in NUS. Kisah ada pahit, ada manis, tapi Tuhan membuat segala sesuatu indah pada waktunya (Pengkhotbah 3:11, TB). Wrapping up this week with intentional quiet reflection and self-examination. Our gracious God has reminded me about the 3 resolutions I had for 2017 . A broken hallelujah to You, my King. To be honest, when my uncle began his series of text messages that was sending the implicit message of me not caring enough for my family, I was (1) frustrated (2) indignant (3) prideful and resistant (4) almost hateful. I was like: What more do you want?! What more do you want from me, God? And, who are you to tell me what to do, can't you see I am doing good work? Aren't I already making the effort? (Doesn't help that I was already feeling quite shaken from something else and that uncle was being indirect) Even now I find it difficult to reply ...