Hmmm… interesting.

Went to 1Utama on Friday for an outing with some friends. Funny enough, Roland was having its exhibition in 1U. And funny enough, Esther, Jessica and Japth were murdering time… I mean killing time.. hmm… too morbid. Ok let’s try again.

FRIDAY! 1U! ESTHER, JESSICA, JAPTH! ROLAND EXHIBITION!… then I appeared. Well, actually not really Japth, he was in guitar heaven section. I just browsed around with Est and Jess. Saw a smaller version of the digital piano in percussion piano. Decided to have a little fun. Maybe earn a little cash from people passing by. So I sat down and played some simple contemporary stuff. Trying to explain to Est and Jess that simple stuff can be really cool.

Then came this guy, all dressed up, looking very musician-ish, wanting to past me a flyer. And I thought it was a promoter wanting to convince me to buy the piano. To my surprise he handed me the flyer for Roland Piano Competition and ask me to join. I smiled and said thanks. Cause I was still in the midst of trying to explain something to Est and Jess, erm.. I’ll call them JEst, the abbr. of abbreviation.

And the guy came back again a short while later! He came back to remind me that the competition only allows classical pieces. I was even more surprised. So I nodded and said thanks again. After which he asked if I would join, I replied no. And then he said,:

“Awww, what a waste…”

Erm…. I was a bit shocked by the whole thing. So I didn’t know that this was actually a very flattering situation. A guitarist with keyboard abilities of a sardine, was invited to a prestigious Roland Classical Piano Competition. Didn’t quite sink in, and I’m still a little incredulous. I only began to understand the implications of that situation when SOMEONE said, “…usually when I try out a piano, they’ll come and ask if I would like to sign up for lessons…haha…” She laughed at herself; interesting.

Anyway.. the highlight of the exhibition were these two little beauties:

Well, next came wall climbing. To all the internet addicts out there, wall climbing is not an euphemism for reading people’s facebook wall posts. Anyway, too much happened there. I suppose in a nutshell, I’ve learnt that Esther can be trusted as a belayer; Japth is an awesomely good wall climber; and some of Japth’s friends go by the name of Daniel, Hannah, Danny and Andrew; all of which think SOMEONE is gay. I’m a serial heterosexual, so that SOMEONE is not me. Keep guessing. Oh and I also learnt that belayer is a great word for puns.

Next came Subway. I know, you envy me. Haha… besides the food there were also friends. Interesting friends. Friends who were good listeners. Friends who were on the verge of committing murder, then decided on suicide then was too overwhelmed so they let the new friend continue talking.

Then the group split, and my shoelace got stuck at the escalator, and my safe situation escalated to crisis situation (haha.. pun). By which I am thankful to God for  the Stewed Duck Soup pillar from which I sought refuge from further shame. Although, some faithful friends began looking for me by shouting my name.

A few packets of guitar strings, loosing a bet at Vincci’s (I predicted correctly the event, just not the person involved), a nice long walk, observing SOMEONE try very hard to write her own name at an optical shop, watching SOMEONE write her name with a shaking hand that could barely hold the pen because of wall climbing, another long walk, a few jokes and a goodbye; were some of the other things I did on Friday.

I know this has a lot of inside jokes. For the uninformed, take this as an escapade into randomness and as a lesson about how life is just filled with obscured lunacy and chaos.

I’m a week and a half into the semester already. And found myself in a spot where, everything that I’m doing makes no sense again. It has, I suppose become routine. No, I have become complacent. Ya, that’s right. Busy-ness breeds complacency. Struggles are better than busy-ness.

Anyway, I woke up this morning, waiting on God. I just don’t know whether what I do now, is really “His Kingdom, His righteousness”. When I started semester last week, I knew, but now I don’t. So I tried to be still before Him, and awaited his answer. I knew I was beginning to do things for the sake of doing things already. And I had to get back to the original intention. If faith without deeds is dead. I suppose the reverse is irrelevant. There has to be a RIGHT starting point when doing something. And I’ve lost it.

Then just now as I was on Facebook, as I was going on the rounds of seeing the going-ons of other people’s life. One photo caught my eye. Then another. Then another one. Then photos in my memory began to pop up. And I thought to myself, “Gosh, I miss them… ooo.. I miss you… and you … and you… and you…”

And I felt God saying that I’ve forgotten the important things in life simply because I don’t see them. For whatever the reason maybe (some may have been good ones!), I have removed the important parts from what I do. Dad becomes another word, so does mom, so does family, so does friends, church and even God. Learning becomes another thing altogether, curiosity, work, life, struggles and many many more, all lose their meaning.

I have missed the point of many things. Then at that moment, I saw my Bible. And I realised that God’s Word has become a thing to me. It’s no longer God’s Word. Much like all of us who wants to finish the work, we get side tracked into a meaningless dimension where we become so detached from reality, that we lose sight of the goal.

Sad thing is that many of us, (I admitted am one of the chronic cases) think that dimension we have stepped into is real. The fact of it is, it’s half real. Because we removed the other half. The squishy, sticky, messy part that complicates things. But makes it all real. The purpose of the work: the person(s) we do it for (it can be family, friend, stranger, God or even, yourself! because God’s wants you to enjoy too!).

The first step to recovery, is to admit there’s something wrong. So, I missed you, and you, and you, and you… oo oo oo.. and her …. and her.. and him.. and her.. and him… AGNES!! hahaha…

Oh and there’s one more! He’s the One we always believe He’s always with us, but a lot of times, we take Him for granted… so I miss You too!!

Heard a strange sentence today. “We’re going to visit your brother.” Hmmm… visit? Oh ya, he’s got his own house now.

At his house, I was lying on the sofa, he was playing his newly refurbished piano for all to hear. And I realised something, God has been faithful in providing the strength, the people and the help needed. And today my brother is pretty much settled down.

And I felt grateful that God has answered my prayer. Which is strange, cause I don’t feel positive feelings or feelings that pertain to love, easily. Usually it’s tainted with cynicism and past hurts. But today, I felt a little happy. Happy, that’s something that’s rather unfamiliar.

Something’s changed. I have changed.

Interesting.

ICE CREAM
3:19
fuzzimuzzi

Lyrics:

You said I said that she said
He said that I said that everybody says

you dreamt that I dreamt that she dreamt
that he dreamt, a dream that, caused him to scream

Oh we shouldn’t panic now
Or we’ll seem like silly clowns
Then again, what fun it’ll be
if everybody starts to scream

I scream you scream
everybody scream
You scream and I’ll scream
everybody scream

I scream you scream
everybody screams
You scream and I’ll scream
everybody screams

Top ten things that I really want to shout at over-tech-savvy people.

10. STOP SHOUTING IN YOUR SMS! USE LOWER CASE LETTERS!

9. Downloading is NOT a euphemism for passing motion.

8. “A little bird told me…” is a figure of speech. I’m not asking you to read my tweets.

7. lol is NOT an actual laugh no matter how many times you say it!

6. STOP referring to your siblings as version 1, version 2, etc…

5. Hey! Your brother’s sucking on his.. erm.. thumbdrive again. Those things are FAT32 right? Gosh, he’s gonna be obese if he keeps taking those…

4. Tell you what, I’ll email you the durians.

3. No, you nerd. Wife is spelled as W-I-F-E and not W-I-F-I. Although.. they may be the same thing for you.

2. Please don’t name your daughter h@ppyGAL2010!

1. Hi, my name is Google. Worship me.

We should treat love like butter, we should spread love like we spread butter. Even if it means ending up with butter fingers. Leading to a slippery situation. But it’ll reduce friction, resulting in a butter relationship.

First and foremost, I would like to inform you that this story is fictional. Awww, haha… I had a lot of people asking me about that (erm… two only actually). But this story is inspired by real life experiences. Namely, mine.

About a day or two before I penned this story, I was praying and seeking the Lord. I was struggling with questions about life. One question in particular was hard to understand. We know the concept of cause and effect. You work hard, you finish the work, you enjoy good results. But if you are lazy, you’ll miss the dateline, and you’ll suffer the consequences. But I didn’t see that happening. I worked hard, but I was on the losing end. I pushed for good things, I was right (not perfect, but just good enough not to be too wrong), but I suffered a worst fall-out. I chose to honour the Lord, but I was unhappy, whilst I have watch everyone else be happy regardless of their choices.

All this in addition to the fact that I believed that God was a just and loving God. He is also sovereign. Hence, from where I stood that day, my conclusion can only be that God is trying to show me who’s boss by allowing suffering and not answering my prayer and not granting me the desires of my heart. Perhaps He’s trying to punish me for something I’ve done or have not done.

But God met me that day by inspiring this thought:

“You don’t have what you want, because it’s not time.”

And it rang not just a bell, but many bells. It was consistent with His Word, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:” ~ Ecc 3:1. That’s why twelve year olds aren’t allowed to drive on public roads. You can’t squeeze apples out of an apple tree when it isn’t harvest season.

Also, I wasn’t ready, not just in one area of my life. But every area of my life has to be brought up to par before I go further. I can’t be a good son if I’m a lousy student; I can’t be a good student, if I’m a lousy friend; I can’t be a good friend, if I’m a terrible listener. In a way, it’s like building a wall, you can’t make one side super tall and strong while another side has only piles of stones, and expect the wall to be finished and ready to put the roof on!

Not forgetting that this two factors are true not just for me, it means also that my situation is also affected by other people, their choices and the situations that prevail. And all this takes time to resolve. All I can do is stay the course and do the best I can. I just have to keep following Jesus.

In real life, I’m at the part of the story just between where the son still nags the father for the shoes and where the son gives up.

I believe that if I stay the course, I will be able to enjoy my “shoes” one day. Not just because I’ll get it, but because I’ll be a trained “runner”.

In essence, I asked God for an answer so that I know what to do. Only to get an answer that tells me that there’s nothing left to do.

This is not a lesson about cause and effect, this is a lesson about times and seasons. And the fact that a lot of the times, things aren’t all they seem to be.

I realised that I can’t say much with words.
But I say plenty with silence.
Words can’t prove much,
But faithful deeds can.

If so, then I have said more than is heard.
And for the little I have spoken,
Even less of it was heard.
But words can only mean so much.

So, I keep doing what I do.
But works are obscured by the recipient’s heart,
Preferences, expectations, circumstances.
Seen or unseen,
Heard or unheard,
Felt or unfelt,
Known or unknown,
Faithful deeds are faithfully done.
The proof behind the words spoken; unspoken.

Many demand proof,
Few desire proof,
Because proof may not always be,
That which you want it to be.

And for the few whose deeds are found out,
And their intentions received with gladness,
They are blessed, for approval is their possession.

For the others,
I realised that words can only say so much.
But I have said plenty in my silence.
My words can’t prove much,
But my deeds can.

All which Someone Divine records,
In a book He calls Unspoken Deeds.
He remembers all that,
Just for me.

“The Unspoken Deed, the physical manifestation of love and longsuffering.”
~Cheng Yee

A father walks into a shoe shop with his two sons. One is five years old, the other, seven. It was the eldest’s birthday that day, so as a gift, he got to choose a pair of shoes he liked.

Naturally the youngest son decided to have a browse. And naturally, one particular pair caught his attention. So he went to ask his dad for it.

To his surprise, his dad said, “Alright, how about we have lunch first?”

Overjoyed the youngest son agreed. Being a child, he soon forgot about the pair of shoes. After lunch, came a nap. After that was cartoons. Then football. Then dinner. Just before supper, the child remembered the shoes, and asked his father about them.

To which his father said he remembered, but it was late, and tomorrow he’d be busy. Perhaps they’ll get it another day. So the child went to bed happily, excited at the prospect of a new pair of shoes.

Days, turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and months into years. And ever persistently, he’d ask his father politely about the shoes. Then it went on to nagging. Not far after, he turned to begging. Rebellion and sulking was part of his arsenal too. And as the child grew, he matured and knew about manners. He knew how to manipulate. He knew how much that pair of shoes cost. He knew the exact shop that sold it.

Every time he passed that shoe shop, he would remember the father’s unfulfilled promise. Anger, bitterness, disappointment and condemnation filled his heart. He would think about how to steal money to afford it. Or maybe he should just steal the pair of shoes. But he knew that he would wear it. And one day his father would see him wearing it and punish him. He did everything he could, he was a star runner in his school. He’d take part in marathons. Often wearing out two to three pairs of shoes a year. But his dad never got him that one pair he so desired. So he was trapped. Unable to move his father, unable to get his pair of shoes.

Finally one day, as hard as it was, he managed to convince himself that his father didn’t love him. That matters like this should be overlooked. That life was unfair. And soon he would be an adult and he could do what ever he wanted to. This, after years of seeing his elder brother, his friends and cousins getting everything they had asked for, while he only asked for that one pair of shoes.

A few more years past, by then he was seventeen going on eighteen. He woke up to find a box on his table. In it was that pair of shoe he had asked for since he was five. He ran downstairs to confront his father.

Full of anger he shouted at his father, “What is this?!”

“The pair of shoes you wanted since you were five, “replied the father with a smile.

“Why now? Why so many years after?” the son screamed, “Is this some elaborate plan to teach me patience? Why are parents always like that?! Do you know the trauma you have put me through…”

The son went on for a while more, and then broke down in tears. The father, also in tears, went over and hugged him, despite the son’s resistance.

A few moments later, the father spoke, “I kept it from you because they didn’t have your size. That was the only pair left and it was size eleven and a half. Also, that pair was already out of production. So I paid the lady on the spot and hid it at home. Until today.”

The son looked bewildered. Unable to understand why his father couldn’t just tell him that he had bought it already.

The father, being as all fathers are able to, sensed the son’s question and said, “I kept it from you because you loved to run. If I told you, you’d ask for it. And one day, you’d find out where I hid it and take it. If you started using that pair of shoes when you were five, you would have destroyed it and worst still, injured your precious feet as you try to run in it. You would have never had known the joy of actually running in such a good pair of shoes. Now you are a trained runner, and your feet is the right size. Go give it a spin.”

The son ran that day, in the father’s view. Shocked to find out that the only thing between him and that pair of shoes, was the size of his feet. Something, which no one could do anything about, something that he didn’t have to worry about. And all through those years, his father was the victim of his misdirected anger.

p.s. explanation in the next post.