chronicles of young

into this thing called married life.  I wonder how I am gonna maintain general hygiene, do well at work, keep in touch with friends, visit family regularly (4 parents now.. quite terrible but I'm kinda thankful I don't have another set of grandparents), have quiet reflective time with God, keep up with ministry stuffs, and be intentional about God's calling for me in missions.  The last bit is the one that I feel more strongly in recent times while the skeptical side of me says its just because its Mission month in church. But I've always known since I became a Christian that I am moved to see people from least reached peoples come to know Christ, I just don't know how this translates to action. Especially now that I feel more keenly that I am not my own- yet may that remind me of a higher calling: "You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body." (1 Cor 6:19b-20); and "I am under obligation both to Greeks and to b...

  This hymn brought tears to my eyes as we sang it in church this morning... The plaintive tune and lyrics brought to mind the many Christians waiting, seeking, praying (or faint from praying), for peace and justice for themselves and their homeland. Sigh.. Come Lord Jesus.  There are no words, just sighs and groans at the horrors I read/know a fraction of in the news and on social media.  As I read about ("yet another") natural disaster- "worst flood in a century in Somalia", the death toll, the reason (El Nino)- my heart naturally 'seizes up' a bit to shore myself from getting too affected. Yet Lord, yet Kang, aren't each 1 behind the number that added to the death toll and the people displaced from their homes, an eternal soul? It is all too easy to get hypocritical and think to myself: "I care quite a bit already". Thank You Spirit for putting in my heart this thought: We in Singapore may feel protected from all these, but its not if but wh...

 Realised I haven't posted here for awhile. I'm still writing though. And even video-journalling, though that was quite weird and my phone didn't have enough space haha. Where I am now: Sitting at V's desk, looking out at the rain, listening to BeigeMellow playlist. Feet very cold even with knitted socks. Warm oolong tea never felt soul good. Looking at the poloroid of bobear and me, taken 5 Dec 2020 in Chinatown, after we patched up after a(nother) conflict. Thinks to self: We have grown. I have grown. I put that above image as my laptop wallpaper to really ground myself with the fact that God is here. I look at the paintings and am reminded of different things: 1. HK's tumultous events since 2019, still unfolding now as I experience it also 2. God's sovereign hand still in this, though these things are too great for my heart to comprehend or hold. I shall be humble and pray. 3. Abba Father's blessings through the years- the right painting a glorious remini...

 "As you read this, I hope you will understand that when I speak of the long night that preceded these days of my happiness, I do not remember grief and loneliness as much as I do peace and comfort -- grief, but never without comfort; loneliness, but never without peace. Almost never."       --- Marilynne Robinson in Gilead Trigger warning: Talk about world events beyond individual control. Skip to after photo if it might be too much :> *** As I begin to write, I am wondering if it is the case that the world just got so much more strife and violence, or that I have merely just 'grown up' to care more and feel more responsible now that I have so much more resources at my disposal compared to when I was a child?  The crises in Yemen and South Sudan which feel like they have become an accepted normal... to the military coup in Myanmar, and now the Taleban takeover in Afghanistan. Instagram is an incongruent source of news, because I follow climate/environme...

 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...

I miss the sun, and its warmth.  I miss being able to catch you on short dates, even when we both are tired. So we can just eat and not talk, but we eventually end up talking anyway. I miss my bed, my bedroom where I have all my knick knacks and crafty things. And my plants- Spung, 乐乐, Zazzy, Christmas. Lying on the hotel bed just now, I thought: "Where do the tears go? Where do they flow?" Does crying over homesickness, loneliness, identifying with unnamed strangers out there, brokenness, end with something?  I cannot know in this world, but I know I shall in eternity... Perhaps for this reason, tears can flow freely. Otherwise, it is such a waste to be so tired and worn out crying alone. I might as well head home, stay home.  But I am here. I am here and.. I am just here. Will I stay, can I stay.. one step at a time. "Show me the way that I should go, for to you I lift up my soul... Teach me to do your will, for you are my God; may your good Spirit lead me on level gro...

There is a lament I hear it's weeping Rising from my chest It is the lament of a discriminated,  downtrodden people It is the lament of the wounded helpers, It is the lament of those who have lost loved ones It is the lament of a woman trying to prove herself There is lament, LORD "I am here." "I am here." "Know that I am here."

"我祈禱擁有一顆透明的心靈 和會流淚的眼睛"  <夜空中最亮的星> The rest of the lyrics are unrelated; just putting this song here also as a sound memory for the precious times on the road in KL, talking about random stuffs over Chinese songs. The beauty of carefree youth :') But just as the 14-day stay home after the KL trip reminds me that things aren't about me, I know that it's childishly unloving to remain in the rose-tinted memories of past adventures. Yet, I believe that this adventure-loving, foolhardy part of me has also been very helpful in pushing me to just try something, as long I believed in it enough at the start. But playing on a harder mode each time, God. Let my heart of worship be there when all is stripped away, and I feel like the end of myself. Almost a quarter of 2020 gone. Somehow I feel like this year is so much more trying than all the other years I can remember in my life. I felt like I had lost a bit of that excited, risk-taking self, and in its...

Stand with HK is something that has been stuck with me in the past few months here. Not in the same meaning that has been used by the protesters, but rather my own making sense of what is happening here to a beloved city I would even call my second home. Today as I was heading back (early before the bloody clash by yet another providence, otherwise I feel like it would be too much to bear in this time), there were armed policemen at Kowloon Tong MTR. Seeing them was enough to make me feel very tense and troubled- something was going to happen. Perhaps I am weak (that is what maybe Satan dupes me to believe), so I may try to reason within myself that it is okay, I haven't seen the most violent and inhuman of things. Going back to Stand with HK , in my stronger moments and at the end of those desperate-despairing 'Maybe I should go home' , I feel like bearing witness to this, caring about the people and the city, is what I can do. Actually I can do nothing. The comple...

Gamut of feelings. It is quite mysteriously interesting that almost every time I change to a new journal book, it marks another season. Or could it be my mind instinctively marking the seasons as the pages come to an end? Either way, with reflections from the weekend of GRIT camp and other stuffs, I filled up the last page of the book I bought at a hipster bookstore in Xia Men during my 'Last Summer' in 2017. This 'Last Summer' was a series of post-graduation travels before I started what I thought will be a long long season of being a ground social worker. The 2017 social worker that I was had no great dreams, just to survive in the emotionally draining work and do good to the people I served. Fear was what held back all those idealistic thoughts (wouldn't really call them dreams I guess) of social enterprise, community work, research. Shortly afterwards, it was the seemingly inane and objectively busy work that kept these safely in the realm of good thoughts. ...

剪一片云拽着，纪念曾珍惜的， 就此远去了，但是心还悬着 怪怪的忧伤。而这歌词正唱出了心声。 Sometimes I reflect that social workers must either be superhuman, or robotic in order to function. To use the self as a professional, be fully congruent, yet not allow the self's experience and emotions to spill over. It is a wistful kind of sadness- delayed and projected grieves mingled with the joy of knowing these people and God. (Much as I can value independence and fun at the expense of others, my top primary goods are relationships and purpose okay.) Anyways, right after I typed this during lunch I had a session with a youth whom I basically said "Sorry social workers are not superhuman I can't read your thoughts" when he expressed that he sometimes wished I could just read his mind. And he complimented me twice: (1) For expressing how people cope with emotions through their own means even if it is a stupid way to others (e.g. self-harm), and (2) For being the first person to not focus on school, whi...

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

One year old, and one year older, as I reflect on the week, I still very much like my job.  Definitely not the interpersonal stress part though that has taught me some. Maybe not the needing to lead and put thought into developing people, though that process has changed my beliefs and attitudes towards mentoring.  Definitely yes: The colleagues I can call friends, and not only that! Who willingly take photos like the above because they know my irrelevance and roll with it.  But still, a belated reply to my colleague who asked earnestly: How do you always stay happy? I see you always look so happy in the office.   When she asked that I just came out of my 3rd engagement in 3 hours so I was zonked and couldn't manage a decent reply. (So I became irrelevant hahaha) Now that I think about the answer, it is quite funny that I thought of myself as more moody/emo. I was really surprised when a good friend described me as optimistic slightly m...

This should be for when I feel like I am not going anywhere, not making any difference, or not doing enough where I am in social work. 蜻蜓/pepatung/dragonfly 荷叶孤浮水面上， 带着莲花之盼望。  水底海草蜻蜓迷，  放纵自己去探索。    The most part of this month was grappling with wanting to be free.   Free to do what, and from what? To do what I want, both in social justice and interfaith work and what-not to change the world, and more frivolous stuff like going where I want when I want (i.e. alone). To be free from being bound to imperfect systems- in my mind operationalised as getting told what to do regardless of whether I choose to or not. (But the root of it is, I realise, I hate getting told what to do especially when I feel like it constrains the create-tive use of my time) Are you truly free?  For what seemed like a long struggle, I didn't want to accept that in many senses, I am not free to do as I please. Resentment would be riled up when I perceived that my time...

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.

清明时节雨纷纷，路上行人欲断魂。借问酒家何处有？牧童遥指杏花村。  好幽美的几句诗。 <subsequent images taken from the World Press Photo 2016 exhibition, gird yourself > A Slovenian police officer escorts refugees after they crossed from Croatia A strange kind of terrible beauty in this photo also. Ponomarev really composed it so beautifully; the horse bows its head, like how I'd imagine the hearts of the people. Yet the ethereal sunlight shines down on both the horseman and the people. Libyan refugees on an overcrowded dinghy wait as a MSF rescue ship approaches People cross into Turkey through a broken fence, near the official border crossing at Akçakale, Syria I stared at these nameless faces for a long time. And then I saw this. People run from water cannon fired by Turkish soldiers, to keep them away from border fences near Akçakale  And this.  A father cradles his lifeless daughter after a Syrian air raid And this. Adam. 7. Badly burned when bomb dropped by ...

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。

Ayeeee. It has been an eventful day. Actually I was in NUS the whole day like a boring but the conversations over WA/email were anything but. Of thankfulness, flipped back to the start of my current journal this morning and amazed at God's faithfulness in these short few months since December. Talking to my SW/life mentor about the upcoming lunchtime talk, about ministry in PGP, meeting Dr Calvin, even help from a senior for the policy project. He has blessed me with such wonderfully made people :') Of grief (and hope), a dear friend's uncle's passing. Reminded of my own aunt, my grandma too. Of joy and adventure. I just booked the ticket to Hanoi today whoop. To visit Hagar , an international NGO that engages with sex trafficking issues. Afterward I reflected, I actually haven't given much thought into this. Impulsive impulsive me I guess reframing you can say it is a kind of gung ho-ness but let me not get ahead of God. Of satisfaction, at the day's...

Of grief and joy. "By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion." Psalm 137:1 NIV "Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever." Revelation 22:1‭-‬5 NIV 功夫不深,不过画的满开心的。 可以以画代字, 也是一种祝福。 One of my favorite hymns with added bridge.