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.