Hometown

If you'd told the Vivian of two years ago to visit my paternal grandparents apart from Chinese New Year, she'd have retaliated. After all, she hated the place. She hated how the house smelled of burned incense. She sighed in disdain at the thought of sharing the same room with the entire family, in which two thirds were prone to snoring. She found communicating with everyone a daunting prospect, because she didn't speak her own dialect. And she absolutely loathed how empty the house seemed every Chinese New Year, because her family was the only one that bothered to return to Kedah every year while everyone else was "busy" with life in Australia or something.

Yet, here I am - spending a night here in my grandparents' place.

To be fair, I hadn't thought about staying here over the weekend. I initially planned to host a farewell with some friends today, but my parents had told me they wanted me to see my grandma and whoever else who was back in Kedah to say goodbye before I spend the next two CNYs in Texas. I was a little disappointed at first, but after some thought, I decided I'd do it. My parents didn't force me into this one - they'd told me I could totally just ring my grandma up and let her know I was flying off next month. But somehow, I felt it wouldn't cut it. I knew I had to do the right thing.

I needed to make that trip up north.

It's ironic, really. For many years I held it against my parents for making me come back here, for making me endure being in a place I felt I didn't belong. I've lost count of the times I've shed tears in this place.

And yet, there's peace in my heart as I'm here today. I got to spend quality time with my cousin, who's pretty lonely here in Kedah without her parents by her side. I got to have nasi lemak, made by my grandma. I got to hear about my relatives' experiences of studying abroad and their advice. I got to have a bowl of Assam Laksa for RM3 for dinner, along with a bunch of other dishes also priced within the same range. And there's more tomorrow.

But more importantly, I'm not angry anymore. I'm not upset at anyone anymore. I've just learned to let go.

And I couldn't be more grateful.

3:42 PM

November's been depressing.

I know people usually go through the excitement stage first before they feel sad about leaving everything behind, but everything's been on plateau mode for me, before it all went downhill from there.

Don't get me wrong - God has been faithful, helping me get past my visa interview and keeping things together in the family. I just don't always feel okay. Well, most of the time I don't.

I think I've always been pretty responsible as a person. I'm not one to run away from home, because I feel a strong attachment and obligation to my family members to not one day just go missing and escape from the harsh reality of life. I've always lived by their principles - to always plan, not make decisions in the spur of the moment and do the right thing. To be obedient, to stay put and be accountable for everything. I think it's most likely a result of being the oldest - I need to be the example to my younger sister, the only sibling I have and honor my parents.

But today I feel like just taking a train and going somewhere. Just somewhere. Anywhere. Maybe KL. I don't need to plan to go to KL, I just need to go. Walk through the streets and breathe in the exhaust fumes. Absorb the sounds of motor vehicles and watch people do what they do. Take in everything there is to take, in the city. It's simple enough, just go somewhere and stay there for a bit. Alone and conscious of what I'm doing and where I'm at.

I'd stare at the gap between the platform and wonder how it'd be like to jump onto the tracks. I'd sit down and watch the people walk by; try and come up with stories about their life. Jump onto every assumption I can grasp within my mind, and make something out of it. Not to be spiteful or anything, but just for the sake of storytelling. I'd hop into the LRT and travel all the way to the last station and get off. I'd explore whatever that was there. The station. The streets. The housing area. The food vendors. The nearest 7-Eleven. The smallest and most ridiculous of things.

Even toilets. I'd check out their toilets.

I'd walk around. Breathe in the polluted air and clear my throat. Take pictures with the DSLR I've had since I was fifteen. Watch out for creeps on the street. Whatever. Then I'd drink some water, hop back on to the LRT and head back. Then drive home and keep all these things to myself, as if I'd just done something extremely normal and commendable as a person.

I'd do all that if I were brave enough. I would.

But I'm not really all that brave. And I'm alone.

I quit my job this week. I really liked working there. Today I took a turn to where the shop was, on the way home. I saw my bro Dave walk out, and then walk back in. I felt sad. I wanted to park my car and go in, but I know I couldn't. I would've gone in and cried. I miss working there. When I worked there I felt invincible. I felt like I belonged there, like my destiny was to be a barista. I still think I could've worked there all my life. I was fast, I was efficient. And I just learned how to make good latte art. I would've been a top barista if I'd worked longer. But I quit. I had to quit.

I got my visa this week too. I got lost on the way to pick it up, but I managed to collect it. And I looked at my visa. I took one hard look at it. I'm going to the U.S. I am going to the U.S. Wow. It didn't strike me, but I repeated it again to myself. I'm going to the U.S. And I'll be there on my own for the next two years. Cool.

I've been avoiding some people too. I'm scared I'll be forced to like people I don't want to like, so I stray away from them. I don't want them to see who I really am. I don't want them to know me, and then like me for what they think I am. I don't want to be obliged to choose the people society says I deserve. I don't want to be judged for disliking someone because of their looks. I don't like it. I don't like being told what to do. But I also need to let go. This is tough. This is confusing. I think I'll be single for the rest of my life, but surprisingly I'm okay with that. People will get married and I will feel left out, but I'll be okay. I know I will, because God has been faithful. Why do I care what others think about me wanting to live life alone? Maybe I'll find someone when I'm 50 and we'll love each other in a retirement home.

I wish I could talk things out with people, but I want them to know I'll make it. I'm a little emo now but I can go on with life. I don't need anyone to tell me I can't do it, because I don't need to hear that now. I want to believe God will help me get through life, and as tough as it is, I will get through it.

19 years later

Six weeks isn't enough to make a distinct difference.

Sure, it could start this week, but things definitely don't change overnight. I don't suddenly just harness the ability to withstand feeling hurt when past wrongs slam right into my guts unannounced. I don't miraculously undo the complexes I've built in the past nineteen years in forty two days.

Change takes time, and time heals everything.

I was challenged today to give myself nineteen more years. Nineteen years, to work towards the oblivion I realize I've needed all this while.

Oblivion, to completely forget and possibly, not know of the pains of the past. Oblivion, a synonym of forgiveness. Oblivion, a pronunciation of love, which keeps no record of wrongs.

Oblivion, originating in the endless mercies and immeasurable grace of God.

Nineteen years later, I will cease to be affected by the temperament of others, and will be able to differentiate who I am from those I love, whose impact in my life has been profound.

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.  

- Philippians 1:6

The way of love

As I grow older I'm starting to realize it's not about how much love I can get, but how much I can love.

I'd rather have a heart of flesh, that has been worn, broken and restored than a heart of stone, unimaginably cold and detached from its true purpose - for love.

And if that sometimes means silence even when I am burning in anger and eager to argue, so be it. If it means waiting patiently when the world tells me things are impossible and I should just to give up, so be it. If it means saying sorry even when I'm not explicitly at fault, so be it.

Because the truth is, everything boils down to love. Love is why we were created, are redeemed and have a hope and a future.

"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 

Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge it will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. 

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love." 

- 1 Corinthians 13:4-13

When I said I would take up my cross and follow Him four years ago, I might not have known the full extent of what this journey of faith entailed. But I made that commitment anyway, a promise to follow Him regardless of anything that would stand in my way.

Today I renew my vows from all those years ago. I made a choice to follow Jesus, and I will stick to it. I have bound myself to Christ, and have denounced my freedom to give up my faith when the going gets tough. I have surrendered every tendency to do things with my own strength, and vow to commit everything unto Him, and only Him. Whenever I stumble, I choose not to let myself fall, but to cling unto the Lord, even in the strongest of my weaknesses.

I love, because He first loved me.

God's ways > My ways

Last Friday, I shared a message at my cell group. Prior to that, my cell leader had asked if I could share, and he had suggested I expounded on the message shared on Sunday by one of my fellow youth leaders about transformation. Given that I already had some thoughts about what was shared on Sunday, and felt I should realign those points with the truth of the Gospel, I agreed to do it.

And so I shared a message on transformation, and explained some of the points that were made on Sunday. Based on what I learned on Sunday about love being the source of transformation, I reaffirmed the truth of God's love for us in the Gospel, through the Bible. I shared about how easy it was to be disillusioned by performance and possessions to the extent that mistake it as our main goal, when really, all we have and are is founded upon the purpose of love.

I talked about how love was the source and product of transformation, and urged everyone, including myself to be aware of how we evaluate our fruitfulness and to constantly be on guard against idleness, so we don't forget that God is love.

But that's not what I intend to talk about in today's post.

After cell, some cell members encouraged me and reaffirmed me that my sharing was good. I figured most of them were tired that Friday night, and they'd said it because they were afraid that I'd be disappointed if whatever I shared failed to get through their fatigued selves. Or maybe they'd actually paid attention, and received something that night. Whatever it was, the Holy Spirit had reminded me prior to cell that it didn't matter; I was only the mouthpiece, God was and is the one who will work through them.

I also kept it in mind that whatever I said had to be out of love, and the Holy Spirit really helped me be a lot more compassionate and forgiving towards others, than I could ever afford to be in my own strength. With that, I shrugged in response to the positive comments, not dwelling on what I'd said or done that night.

However, on Sunday, I received feedback that wasn't too encouraging. I was at Alpha, having refreshments when I overheard the youth cell group leader conversing with a fellow member of the cell group I attended. The cell leader was curious about our last session, and expressed it to my fellow cell member. If I'm not mistaken, apparently the cell leader had heard from one of his own cell members who had attended my cell that Friday that my message was [insert adjective describing mediocrity/not good enough] here. My fellow cell member confirmed it, as he had heard this person say the message was "dry".

I won't lie, I was pretty discouraged. My message was dry? It was the second time I'd shared at cell, and the Holy Spirit had revealed to me that when I first shared, I lacked love. I was all about truth, and lacked in grace when it came to addressing sin and the imperfections of others. I was brutally honest the last time, and through a discipleship meeting with J N two nights before cell, God made me rethink the way I shared my message so it would be deep, and yet still exude love and grace. And it was dry?

I was devastated, at first. Then I was grateful - grateful that the Holy Spirit lived within me, and spoke to me at that moment. I had to make a decision.

If I so much as allowed that thought to prevail in my mind, it simply meant that I had allowed one person's opinion, to define the legitimacy of the message I had shared.

However, if I brought into remembrance what I had learned from the Word of God and the prompting of the Holy Spirit and had faith that God would still speak despite how I shared, it meant I was committing my ways unto the Lord; trusting in Him as He brought forth my righteousness as the light, and my justice as noonday.

And boy am I glad I chose the latter. I chose to believe that the God I love and serve reigns beyond the limitations of my flesh. I chose to trust the Lord with all my heart, and lean not on my own understanding. I took refuge in the Lord than trust in man.

People's comments, be they positive or negative may address the nature of how or what has been shared, but they don't matter as much as who it was shared for and why. When we share a message, it is for our God who is love. It is for the furtherance of His kingdom alone.

After receiving a rebuke from J N two nights before my sharing was due, I felt really discouraged. I felt I wasn't ready to share, and that I should just drop this responsibility because I felt my heart wasn't right before God. I thought I had made a mistake by agreeing to share, because I was just a wreck.

But then the Holy Spirit spoke to me.

"Are you doing this for yourself, or for God?"

"If you choose to run away now and not share, you're basically running away from what God has called you to do. You're also saying that God's not as great as we all claim He is, because you don't believe that God speak to people through your sharing on Friday."

"You're implying that God cannot work beyond your own human limitations."

Well, I couldn't argue with that lol. And so I shared.

Another thing the Lord made real to me was that He reveals things to people in His way, and His own timing. On that same discipleship meeting, I vented my frustration regarding how things were being run in youth church, and the state of the hearts of the youths for God. I'd been exposed over the past couple of months to really profound and yet basic truths of the Christian faith, and the urgency of restoring our undivided loyalty and attention towards the Heavenly Father to the extent that when I looked around me, I'd find that it wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough that the guys in cell served in church, they had to give up playing DotA for Jesus because I felt that if we couldn't give up a computer game to spend time with God, I figured it'd be a nightmare for them trying to leave behind this world to enter into the place He has for us in Heaven. It wasn't enough for agreement in the Word to happen during service, it had to be something we pondered and meditated upon at all times, and watching people transition so easily from a hefty sermon to gossiping at lunch made me cringe. I felt it wasn't enough that people were given a chance to preach, it had to come from a place of great understanding in the Word of God and constant citation to ensure everything is biblically sound.

When I expressed this to J N, he was upfront with me and said that my attitude was absolutely wrong. I was judging others for what they did, or didn't do, and it was not out of love. I was accusing others of not loving Jesus, based on my judgments. I was absolutely frustrated because I felt like I didn't belong with my "deep" thoughts in a sea of facade-oriented individuals, and it hurt my relationships with others, and more importantly, with God. On a deeper level, I was frustrated because I felt like I was the one who had to uphold all these things that God had revealed to me, because no one else seemed to care.

J N said that God reveals things to people according to His will and His perfect timing. He said that not everyone moves at the same pace, and it is unjust to classify a fellow believer as incompetent in their walk simply because they are slower than one, or to over-qualify a certain believer simply because they are at a certain position in their walk. God's relationship with everyone is unique and individual, as much as it is cohesive with His bride, the Church.

When I shared about God's love in accordance with transformation, and talked about God's grace and the concept of the Gospel, I was super enthusiastic about it. I brought it up over and over again, paying emphasis to the core of the Gospel, of God's redemption of the human race, the sending of Jesus as a sacrifice, and all of this as an act of love. I believed it was such a great and key part of Christianity that needed to be reasserted frequently, because I saw how it shaped my faith and it was what God had revealed to me through my encounters with Reformed teachings and theology. 

Nevertheless, not everyone shares my enthusiasm. Some don't understand why I would constantly point at it with amazement time and time again when all Christians are in consensus that Christ died for our sins and we were saved by grace through faith. And I suspect that some find my message "dry" because I shared something that was seen as basic knowledge of Christianity and not the solid spiritual food we were suppose to received, having being told we were to "level up" in our faith.

But that's okay. God reveals His truths in different ways to different people at different times. And as long as they all point to Him, it's all cool. It really isn't my concern, because I have no reason to dispute a God who works beyond my human imperfections.

Two lessons learnt in one sharing:

1. Putting my trust in God means not worrying about what others say, be it negative or positive.

2. God reveals things to people according to His plan and perfect timing.

"For as the heavens are higher than the earth,

    so are my ways higher than your ways

    and my thoughts than your thoughts."

- Isaiah 55:9