i wore my denim skirt to school on friday, and yalan said, "wow chloe! you're wearing a skirt today."
i gave her my best dude face and told her i only wore it because i'd worn it on sunday and i only send my clothes to the laundry basket after wearing them at least twice. i keep telling her not to be grossed out: one day when she has to do her own ironing (and her family's - dude you are so getting married), she'll understand just why i do so.
it's at these times i treasure her the most, and it's these times in school with all the girls which i will treasure my whole life long. congregating at what used to be our thursday lunch club table but is now simply our table, and joking about how we're becoming fixtures; complaining about how much we hate school food, how oily it is, but eating it anyway. the times when we're living and loving and being simple and sweet and happy - because that's what God made us to be, and because it is my Everyday.
***
thoughts from the sunday before last
i wonder what life was like for adam and eve before they ate the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, before they chose to leave Edenic bliss behind. i'm sure they continually experienced feelings of absolute peace and joy and contentment, and desired every moment to tell God how much they loved Him. it's the same feeling and desire i had those few wonderful weeks leading up to my baptism, when i answered God in all honesty and humilty for the first time. the feeling i still get sometimes when i'm on the bus, or walking home alone, quietly singing hymns to myself. the feeling that only comes when you know you're totally surrendered to God and experiencing His blessings, His love, His goodness.
and this leads me to look back on my life and wonder whether God was there all along, through the tumult of my Growing Up Years: and no matter that my heart got broken when i was 13 and more or less remained broken for a good seven years after, He was there. He'll be there too, in the uncertain, ever-looming doom gloom future, Him, my Hope and my Redeemer. we try too hard, i think, to "experience God" when He's actually already here for us, and guiding us each day. just because we don't see great big miracles in the day to day doesn't mean they're not happening.
having Everyday, actually, is a miracle in itself.
for faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen. hebrews 11:1.
when i was younger than i am today, i thought there'd come a point in time - probably however old my parents were when i had that thought - when i'd finally know everything. the secrets of the universe, the meaning of life. and as i remembered that i had that thought, it suddenly hit me that i do finally know everything. i have found everything i'd ever wanted, and ever needed, in Jesus.
***
waitressing during my summer break was something i wanted very much to do, and had to do, even though it turned out to be a real trial. something i wanted every much to do because i want to visit jon in india in december, and something i knew i had to do if only to see what the Real World was like. i said in 2004 when i first started at rouge that i'd finally seen the real world, but i know now that you can't really see it unless you want to, or God opens your eyes to it.
cold comfort, but comfort nonetheless, in mcdonald's ice cream on my last day. it costs sixty cents now, after the gst increase. sitting outside centrepoint with weary shoppers licking it slowly, thoughtfully. and i've always been one of those ice cream gobblers who take bites out of ice cream cones.
realising, after being bullied at work, that after all it doesn't matter because Jesus is everything to me, and i am richer than anyone could ever imagine; feeling immensely sorry for those who do not have Him - those who came and got drunk, vomited, had petty and extremely public quarrels with each other simply because they could not think straight.
thinking, when the restaurant was empty and i needed time to pass quickly, about how waitresses are usually written about in books to add to the chaos of a scene, or are the imperfection or flaw in an otherwise perfect or flawless moment: their sullen, unsmiling faces, unspoken acknowledgment of an order adding to the chill of an already grey, overcast morning. we're people too, you know, with real lives. i read harry potter, your cigarette is giving me a headache, and i'm afraid you're going to have heart problems because you're eating deep-fried chicken wings, skin, fat and all with reckless abandon even though you've got a rather wide girth. i wish you Jesus, why won't you answer Him?
feeling insignificant, insecure, amidst girls well made up and poised. not unlike the feeling i got when i stepped into the first evidence lecture: my future colleagues. wishing that responsibility wasn't hurtling towards you, that the world allowed you to follow your heart instead of your head, wondering, desperately praying for people to see the truth that is Jesus.
i do think i'm more attuned to the world around me than i have ever been: other peoples' quirks and foibles, their annoying habits, their joy and also their anger, grief, sorrow. even as i'm typing this i'm retrieving bible verses in my mind, those that i've read over and over again, and i'm peaceful, content, at one with God and myself. we can't escape the world; since God is the same as He's been yesterday, as He is today and will be tomorrow, it's me that's tired and discouraged, my humanness that prevents me from constantly loving and experiencing Him. but that doesn't mean that He loves as any less, or that Jesus' work on the cross was in vain. what was it for, if not to take the place of our humanness such that we would never be able to boast of triumph in life apart from God's love for us?
cast all your cares on Him, for He cares for you. 1 peter 5:7. that's the cares of all the believers in the world, plus the heartbreak of those who reject Him, the intense, unimaginable pain He must feel even as He knows that there are those who will go on rejecting Him, and die an eternal death.
***
these last sunday thoughts were penned at a coffeeshop on bencoolen street, the same one where jon and i had supper after my baptism, and came at a time when i was feeling incredibly low, tired, discouraged. i would have lost heart, unless i believed that i would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. psalm 27:13.
so you see, christians do struggle too. after all, we are only human. and yet God loves us, understands, and has given us a Helper in the Holy Spirit as we go on struggling. but it's not really a struggle when you realise that the ways of the world which you struggle against are just bringing you closer to Him, Everyday. it's more like a constant humbling of yourself: humbling along without a care in the world, rahel couldn't have put it any better in the god of small things.
and i can't go back now to not knowing, not loving, not caring, bearing and sharing the burdens of my fellow sojourners, and (hopefully) sojourners-to-be. God saw to that when He brought jon into my life. for the first time i believe i have learnt what it is to love unconditionally, believe that God has graciously allowed me a glimpse of the marvellous depths and intensity of His love for mankind. were the whole realm of nature mine, that were an offering far too small; such love amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all. i, we, owe no other Master. to His grace, how great we are debtors. there's no turning back, once God calls you and you choose to answer.
i will bear my burdens with joy, because it's an answer to my prayer at the Beginning that i would see the world, see people as God sees them: in His image, loved, whole, no matter what they've done. the sunday after the sunday before last (last sunday la) one of the hymns sung at the service in jon's church was great is Thy faithfulness, which i'd been singing to myself for the past week, and which was also sung at bsf. and there and then as i closed my eyes to thank God for His faithfulness i felt tears. i was assured of my salvation, of jon's salvation, of His having rescued both of us from slavery to sin and death and made us new people, no matter what we've done in the past.
my life i give, henceforth to live; O Christ for Thee alone. i would not be free apart from the fact that Jesus died for my sins.
to turning 21, and to the Everydays.
it's at these times i treasure her the most, and it's these times in school with all the girls which i will treasure my whole life long. congregating at what used to be our thursday lunch club table but is now simply our table, and joking about how we're becoming fixtures; complaining about how much we hate school food, how oily it is, but eating it anyway. the times when we're living and loving and being simple and sweet and happy - because that's what God made us to be, and because it is my Everyday.
***
thoughts from the sunday before last
i wonder what life was like for adam and eve before they ate the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, before they chose to leave Edenic bliss behind. i'm sure they continually experienced feelings of absolute peace and joy and contentment, and desired every moment to tell God how much they loved Him. it's the same feeling and desire i had those few wonderful weeks leading up to my baptism, when i answered God in all honesty and humilty for the first time. the feeling i still get sometimes when i'm on the bus, or walking home alone, quietly singing hymns to myself. the feeling that only comes when you know you're totally surrendered to God and experiencing His blessings, His love, His goodness.
and this leads me to look back on my life and wonder whether God was there all along, through the tumult of my Growing Up Years: and no matter that my heart got broken when i was 13 and more or less remained broken for a good seven years after, He was there. He'll be there too, in the uncertain, ever-looming doom gloom future, Him, my Hope and my Redeemer. we try too hard, i think, to "experience God" when He's actually already here for us, and guiding us each day. just because we don't see great big miracles in the day to day doesn't mean they're not happening.
having Everyday, actually, is a miracle in itself.
for faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen. hebrews 11:1.
when i was younger than i am today, i thought there'd come a point in time - probably however old my parents were when i had that thought - when i'd finally know everything. the secrets of the universe, the meaning of life. and as i remembered that i had that thought, it suddenly hit me that i do finally know everything. i have found everything i'd ever wanted, and ever needed, in Jesus.
***
waitressing during my summer break was something i wanted very much to do, and had to do, even though it turned out to be a real trial. something i wanted every much to do because i want to visit jon in india in december, and something i knew i had to do if only to see what the Real World was like. i said in 2004 when i first started at rouge that i'd finally seen the real world, but i know now that you can't really see it unless you want to, or God opens your eyes to it.
cold comfort, but comfort nonetheless, in mcdonald's ice cream on my last day. it costs sixty cents now, after the gst increase. sitting outside centrepoint with weary shoppers licking it slowly, thoughtfully. and i've always been one of those ice cream gobblers who take bites out of ice cream cones.
realising, after being bullied at work, that after all it doesn't matter because Jesus is everything to me, and i am richer than anyone could ever imagine; feeling immensely sorry for those who do not have Him - those who came and got drunk, vomited, had petty and extremely public quarrels with each other simply because they could not think straight.
thinking, when the restaurant was empty and i needed time to pass quickly, about how waitresses are usually written about in books to add to the chaos of a scene, or are the imperfection or flaw in an otherwise perfect or flawless moment: their sullen, unsmiling faces, unspoken acknowledgment of an order adding to the chill of an already grey, overcast morning. we're people too, you know, with real lives. i read harry potter, your cigarette is giving me a headache, and i'm afraid you're going to have heart problems because you're eating deep-fried chicken wings, skin, fat and all with reckless abandon even though you've got a rather wide girth. i wish you Jesus, why won't you answer Him?
feeling insignificant, insecure, amidst girls well made up and poised. not unlike the feeling i got when i stepped into the first evidence lecture: my future colleagues. wishing that responsibility wasn't hurtling towards you, that the world allowed you to follow your heart instead of your head, wondering, desperately praying for people to see the truth that is Jesus.
i do think i'm more attuned to the world around me than i have ever been: other peoples' quirks and foibles, their annoying habits, their joy and also their anger, grief, sorrow. even as i'm typing this i'm retrieving bible verses in my mind, those that i've read over and over again, and i'm peaceful, content, at one with God and myself. we can't escape the world; since God is the same as He's been yesterday, as He is today and will be tomorrow, it's me that's tired and discouraged, my humanness that prevents me from constantly loving and experiencing Him. but that doesn't mean that He loves as any less, or that Jesus' work on the cross was in vain. what was it for, if not to take the place of our humanness such that we would never be able to boast of triumph in life apart from God's love for us?
cast all your cares on Him, for He cares for you. 1 peter 5:7. that's the cares of all the believers in the world, plus the heartbreak of those who reject Him, the intense, unimaginable pain He must feel even as He knows that there are those who will go on rejecting Him, and die an eternal death.
***
these last sunday thoughts were penned at a coffeeshop on bencoolen street, the same one where jon and i had supper after my baptism, and came at a time when i was feeling incredibly low, tired, discouraged. i would have lost heart, unless i believed that i would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. psalm 27:13.
so you see, christians do struggle too. after all, we are only human. and yet God loves us, understands, and has given us a Helper in the Holy Spirit as we go on struggling. but it's not really a struggle when you realise that the ways of the world which you struggle against are just bringing you closer to Him, Everyday. it's more like a constant humbling of yourself: humbling along without a care in the world, rahel couldn't have put it any better in the god of small things.
and i can't go back now to not knowing, not loving, not caring, bearing and sharing the burdens of my fellow sojourners, and (hopefully) sojourners-to-be. God saw to that when He brought jon into my life. for the first time i believe i have learnt what it is to love unconditionally, believe that God has graciously allowed me a glimpse of the marvellous depths and intensity of His love for mankind. were the whole realm of nature mine, that were an offering far too small; such love amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all. i, we, owe no other Master. to His grace, how great we are debtors. there's no turning back, once God calls you and you choose to answer.
i will bear my burdens with joy, because it's an answer to my prayer at the Beginning that i would see the world, see people as God sees them: in His image, loved, whole, no matter what they've done. the sunday after the sunday before last (last sunday la) one of the hymns sung at the service in jon's church was great is Thy faithfulness, which i'd been singing to myself for the past week, and which was also sung at bsf. and there and then as i closed my eyes to thank God for His faithfulness i felt tears. i was assured of my salvation, of jon's salvation, of His having rescued both of us from slavery to sin and death and made us new people, no matter what we've done in the past.
my life i give, henceforth to live; O Christ for Thee alone. i would not be free apart from the fact that Jesus died for my sins.
to turning 21, and to the Everydays.
Happy Birthday Chloe,
ReplyDeletehappy to hear you got baptized :)
-James-
I WEAR MY CLOTHES AT LEAST 2CE TOO!! (shhh..) i've come to like doing laundry and love clothes out of the dryer. who said anything about ironing?? =) hello chloeee.....
ReplyDelete