I’ve heard speculations that the reason set upon Job the testings were not just for the sole sake of proving Job to be a Godly man. I heard it’s because Job had pride in his heart because of his righteousness.

Job was righteous. He was so righteous, that God knew him and mentions him in the bible. He wasn’t arrogant. He wasn’t blatantly proud. But deep inside him, hiding in the deep recesses of his heart was an iniquity. The iniquity of pride. As small as it was. It was still there.

This reminds me of something. I wrote this last year. As painful as it is, I now know the extent that God is going to do. I’m barely finished. I’m afraid of asking, “How long?”

From where I stand, there seems to be more.

It’s been a difficult 48 hours. Trying not to go back to my old habits of trying to control God by depending totally on my own understanding. It doesn’t help to be insecure.

As I left for the library, I asked God to meet me there. As I came home, I asked God to meet me there. As I left youth, I asked God to meet me there. It’s strange right? But I’ve come to realise that Christianity isn’t about us going into unknown places. God called Abram to go to a place He will show Him. I suppose God already knew where He wanted him to go.

Christians often think we should go to where God isn’t so that God’s light may shine there. But that’s just one of the myths about Christianity. It’s because God is there with the poor that’s why you will find the poor to serve. If He isn’t there, you won’t be even near them.

Abram was challenged to leave everything, his family especially. Back then, family was all one had. It’s insanity to leave your family and go by yourself to a place the God you never knew is going to show you.

I’m challenged to brush aside everything, my understanding, my knowledge and my own wisdom. That’s all I have to keep myself sane. It’s insanity to put aside rational thoughts and trust that God will be where you’re going to lead you only one small step at a time.

I asked, “Where?” He said, “You will know when we reach.”
I asked, “Who?” He said, “I’ll let you know then.”
I asked, “When?” He said, “I’ll let you know.”
I asked, “How?” He said, “I’ll let you know.”
“What?” I exclaimed.

I felt indignant at God’s attitude of secrecy.

He said, “Why do you not ask the more important questions?”

“Like?” I asked.

He said, “Like whether I will be there?”

I stood there silent. Paralysed by the thought that I have to pitch everything on something I do not understand and cannot control. Do I dare ask?

Do you?

Day by day, God is just digging out stuff from my life. Today, He dug out my understanding.We all try to do as Proverb 3:5 says, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, And lean not on your understanding;” How do you know which is from the LORD and which is your understanding? I don’t know.

My best guess is that man’s understanding always looks out for its own interest and aspires to control God. It is subtle as it masquerades under the name of “faith”. I have been logically, rationally and scripturally examining my options and praying to God that He would come through what I concluded was His will. At the end, everything falls apart, then I start blaming God.

God has already taken away things that were dear to me. Now He takes away my understanding. Hopefully my pride has also been taken away.

But you know what, I’m happier today without my understanding but being able to some how learn how to trust God again. Honestly, I can’t wait for God to finish stripping/cleansing me. Not so that I can go back to my old dreams and hopes. But rather to truly walk each day in faith.

Of all the people I’ve judged, I’m the most immature.

Some one asked me today,

“So, Cheng Yee what you doing at home now? Are you feeling lonely? I heard you are lonely at home.”

I was stunned. Of all the people to ask me. I was terrified at first, wondering what the person knew. It was asked in the presence of other people, that made them uncomfortable too.

I just want to say I’m not angry. All I know is that I’m deeply touched that the person asked.

Although it was apparent that I am lonely, but it hasn’t really struck me. I just know that I’m broken.

I haven’t really been a single in my heart for the past few years. My heart was always with someone. Now that it’s no more. I’m truly single in my heart, and it’s lonely. As much as I hate to admit it. I’ve forgotten how to enjoy being alone, being single.

Usually when I’m on the way back home, I’ll think about that special someone. Wonder what can I do to delight her. But now, I don’t have that privilege anymore. So what do I do? I think of what I’m going to do when I go home. Erm… nothing. I looked up and I prayed to God, “Well, this looks like an adventure. I’ll trust that You’ll be there.”

After dinner, I decided to have Kickapoo just for its sweet taste. Then I realise hey, it’s sweet. For the first time in a long time, I sat down by myself and enjoyed a soft drink. Then I think to myself, “Wow, God, I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on life’s little pleasures.”

To person who said that the “little things” were important. I now understand where you’re coming from. Genius. =)

It’s in the depths of the night that one meets his greatest foe and most loyal friend – stillness.

Stillness can bring out the worst of your fears. It can also bring about the most surreal of experiences. It can be a screaming silence, or an eery quietness.

Stillness is patient. But also fierce. It waits all day, watching you go through a hectic day of fighting the good fight. Then at night, when you lay on your bed and think finally a safe place to rest. It tip-toes around and whispers your battle wounds into your ear.

It is also cunning. Between heavy ponderous thoughts, it comes to question you. Just when you think you’ve figured out the problem, it comes subtly and throws arrows of doubt into your mind.

But it is also a loyal friend. In the midst of a battle, all I long for is for the sound of the swords, of the ground being trampled by men and of the falling of the slains body, to stop. It gives me time to consolidate my thoughts, focus and rest.

When a man has nothing to hide, he has everything to lose. I have everything to lose, yet I have everything to hide. So I run away into the depths of the night. ~ Lim Cheng Yee

“Queer” said Darwin with wide open eyes.

“Pop!”

“Oh. Here, let me help you,” said the zoo keeper Bobana while picking up Darwin’s eyes.

In a rather serious tone, Darwin says, “This is scandalous, I’ve never seen such a creature before, clown suit and all. Smells like cheese, and one fifth the height of the average man. Intriguing. I wonder if this is far more primitive or advanced?”

Bobana decided to give Darwin his professional opinion, “I don’t know.”

“Precisely,” Darwin, “I’ve always thought that way too. I’ll just follow my formula for the deduction for the evolutionary point of a creature.”

Pulling out a roll of toilet roll, Darwin proudly said, “Only I have figured out that the toilet roll is a modern version of a compact scroll! Aren’t I brilliant? But don’t spread the news yet!”

Bobana was not impressed. The creature had a flatten face with huge nostrils. It couldn’t be too stupid as it had requested for a phone call before. The farmer who sent it in said it fell from the sky. Yet it had no wings. Curious little creature it was.

“Now, let’s see,” said Darwin, trying to focus his reading glasses, “Step one, describe the creature. Does it have a spine? Bobana ask him this…”

Bobana listened to Darwin’s whisper intently. He then turned to the creature and said in a low intimidating voice, “You feeling lucky punk?”

The creature expressed shock and recoiled.

“Invertebrate!” concluded Darwin, “Now, that would put it between 40,000 to 50,000 years old. Only one way to find out which part of the link it is.”

Darwin took out a set of twelve die and handed it over to the creature and said politely, “Roll them please.”

The creature rolled the die and Darwin with great enthusiasm took note of all the values and substituted the sum of into a complex algebra formula and took first 3 digits.

“Hmmm, 3, 8, 2,” said Darwin in a deep ponderous manner. Darwin flipped his drawing book to page 382. On that page was a hand drawn picture of a man.

“Dear me! He is our ancestor!” Darwin screamed in excitement.

Bobana wasn’t amused.

At that very moment Pit shows up.

“Hey, I’ve come to get Bob,” said Pit.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen him,” said Bobana. Darwin was too caught up in his discovery to notice Pit’s presence.

“There he is, in that cage,” said Pit pointing to the strange creature, “He flu to the moon last night and fell down. I forgot to plan his descend. Looks like he landed on his face.”

“Oh,” said a stunned Darwin, “This is sad, really sad, if only…”

The creature said with a slur, “Sorry thoo thisabboint you, but I really need to grow see a thocktor.”

Darwin was disappointed, he knew one day he’d be found out. Just not so soon. Bob was glad Pit came in the nick of time, he was almost named “Dar-win-ner”. But he’s been called “Dar-lo-ser” before. But please don’t tell anyone.

I stabbed the ground with my bloody sword. Every sinew aching from the battles which were unceasing. But my men were gaining ground. As I breathed hard from exhaustion, I surveyed the battle field with tired eyes. What I saw crushed me. My front line was advancing, but just beyond the hill, enemy troops were consolidating. Yet, with every breath drawn I feel my Lord’s eyes upon me. I drew my sword and lifted my shield gave a battle cry. My troops pressed on.

We pressed on. But when the enemy rushed into my first row of valiant knights. I stopped dead in my track. The enemy is coming in numbers at least ten folds more than my strength of ten thousand. I turned back to see if there were any signals coming from the Castle of Light.

Miles away in that castle, my eyes caught the white flow of my Lord’s royal robes and soon met my Lord’s terrifying eyes. Although my Lord was distant, yet my Lord’s presence was with me. It was not a victorious presence, it was a presence that warned me to be alert.

I turned back and right before my eyes, I saw the strength of my men decrease drastically. The enemy surrounded me. I believed my Lord will not abandon me. So I fought on. Anticipating reinforcement.

Seconds turned into minutes into hours into days, but my eyes saw no troops coming from the Castle. A few of my fellow kings came beside me and lent me their strength. But it was clear that my Lord had allowed the enemy to engulf me. So I cried:

“Oh my Lord, Thou art Wise and Omniscience. Your servant sees Your Majesty’s plan to cut me down. The strength of my troops is decreasing fast. If it is my Lord’s desire to have me torn to pieces. Then I say with every ounce of my strength that I am willing. I yield to my Lord’s promise of my spirit’s immortality. I plead Your Majesty to draw Thy sword and be swift to take me. Before my heart is corrupt with fear and abandonment. Draw Thy sword my Lord! For the enemy is nigh! Grant me the honour of being crushed in Thy Own hands!

My Lord continued to look at me. Unflinching were my Lord’s eyes. At that very moment, the last of my men fell to the ground.

I stood there confused, overwhelmed, desperately trying to gather my thoughts, to hope, to believe that somehow, my Lord will rescue me…

…continued from part 1…

As soon as the clock struck twelve, Pit pulled Bob into the car and dashed of to the fashion show.

“Bob, when we are there, sneak through the back door and run on stage and put your nose on the cat walk,” instructed Pit.

Bob nodded. He looked dazed from the preparation. The moment they arrived, Bob dashed out and everything was like clock work. The second his nose touched the runway, his running nose dragged him forward. His nose ran so fast he caught a flu and he was airborne!

“I’m flu-ing!” Bob exclaimed.

“Go Bob! Save the moon!” Pit shouted.

Inch by inch Bob ascended up into the sky. The moon was getting bigger and bigger, nearer and nearer, further and further!! No! This isn’t right!

Panicking, Bob realises that he’s flu too high!

“Help! Help!” cries Bob.

Suddenly, a meteor hit Bob, sending him flying towards the moon.

Crash.

“Hey, pretty boy, what you thing you’re doing?” said the Moon.

“I’m Bob and I’m here to fill you up, Mr. Moon,” proclaimed Bob ever humbly.

“It’s Miss Moon to you,” said the Moon, “Do I sound at all manly?”

Trying to avoid the ever ponderous debate that ensues mistaken gender identities, Bob pulled out all the blue cheese from his clown suit. He starts to put it on the Moon, filling every hole and making the Moon round again. The Moon was rather amused.

“Bob, I can’t thank you enough,” said the grateful Moon, “But you must go now, there’s a gang of shooting stars on their way.”

Bob nodded and looked down at the earth. Pressed his nose on the Moon and took off! He waved as He flu back to earth.

To his horror, the space rats that come once in a blue moon appeared and started eating the Moon!

“No!!” screamed Bob. He tried to turn back, but gravity had a strong grip on him and his flu was getting better.

Just when the Moon was about to completely consumed, the gang of shooting stars appeared. As the old folks say, “Them gunslingers took ‘em down good!”

Bob was relieved. For a while. He realised he no longer had the flu and was free falling.

In one day, the Moon was returned to its full glory for a while, shooting stars had a space rat barbeque and Bob lost eighty percent of his height.

On a rather fairy day, Pit was busy weaving strawberries out of straw wondering whether to attend a fashion shows organised by the circus. Out of the blue, a knocking on the door startled him.

He endeavored to ascertain the identity of the visitor.

“Hello there Bob,” said Pit looking Bob, “Anything the matter?”

“I was just thinking the other day about how we saved the sky, I reckoned we could do the same for the moon!” said Bob.

Pit assumed his thinking pose and pondered for a while what he would have for dinner later.

Bob waited for a while before nudging Pit.

“Oh dear me, lost my train of thoughts. You were saying?” said a blushing Pit.

“Save the moon!!” exclaimed an exasperated Bob, “My plan is to bring all these blue cheese up to the moon and fill her up!!”

“Ingenious! What do you need me for?” replied Pit excitedly.

“Well, I can’t figure out how to reach the moon,” said Bob sadly, “…and I can’t afford a plane.”

Pit smiled proudly and said, “Bob! I was surprised that you actually thought of something useful to do this time. Instead of questions like ‘where is my thinking cap’. I will help you!”

Pit made Bob eat a tub of ice cream while standing in front of his opened refrigerator.

“How do you feel?” asked Pit.

“Light headed,” said Bob.

“Great!” said Pit, glad that all was going according to plan.

Pit packed all the blue cheese into a clown costume and picked out two rather snazzy pairs of clown shoes. “Can’t attend a clown fashion show without these!” thought the ever suave Pit.

…end of part one…

On a slightly cherry day, Bob walks over to the grocery shop to his daily essentials.

“Excuse me Mr. Grocer,” calls out Bob.

Mr. Grocer turns to face Bob. Spotting a very stereotypical Italian chef look, Mr. Grocer had a mustache so long that if he could only see as far as his mustache he still wouldn’t need glasses.

With a warm voice Mr. Grocer said, “Eh Bob! Call me Gross. I’m quite engrossed with cleaning up my counter. You know how it is, bacteria is gross. Help yourself!”

“Alright,” Bob replies.

Bob grabbed a wheel barrow and took out a drawing of himself. Looking at it he says, “I’ll start from the top, the mouth.”

About an hour later, Bob walks over to the counter to pay.

Mr. Grocer keys in the price for each item.

“2 bottles of tomato sauce, 10 sets of alphabet stickers, 20 keys?… Mr. Bob… What are all these for?” asked Mr Grocer rather bewildered at Bob’s choice of grocery.

Bob frowned for a moment, wondering why Mr. Grocer asked. “Have I done something wrong?” thought Bob.

“Well, the bottles of tomato sauce are for painting my mushrooms. I plan to have a alphabet soup tonight, so I bought those. The 20 keys? I’ve been wanting to make a key chain for all my other keys. It’s troublesome to carry all of them separately,” explained Bob.
Mr. Grocer was shocked, he continued to ask, “What about the bags of coffee powder? Certainly 7 bags is too much to drink!”

Bob smiles, “No, Gross, I wouldn’t drink so much coffee. I am going to soak a small table in coffee. Pit has requested I make a coffee table for him.”

Satisfied with Bob’s answer, Mr. Grocer courteously packed the items in grocery barrels.

“Have a nice day,” says Mr. Grocer warmly, “One more thing, what is the cheese for?”

With a cheeky wink, Bob replies, “Haven’t you noticed the moon hasn’t been full for a week now?”

“Oh, brilliant! Brilliant!” says Mr. Grocer.

Bob walks happily home while Mr. Grocer knocks over the cash register with his exquisitely long mustache.

“Oh no! Tickle my pastas!” screams Mr. Grocer, “Now I have to clean up this gross mess.”