I'm old school.
I don't like it when people bring their Bibles on their i-Phones when going to church on Sundays. I believe the Bible is far too important and sacred to have it converged with something else like your MP3 player or phone. It's OK to have it to complement your bible, but never to replace it. If you think it's too much of an inconvenience to bring your old fashion, paper printed Bible along with you on a Sunday morning to church, something is seriously wrong with you.
And to the unmarried couple that was sitting in front of me, please refrain from snuggling and showing public displays of affection especially during when the Word of God is being preached.
You may not think it's a big deal, but it's distracting people (namely me) from their attempts at coming before God with a focused mind and heart.
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Monday, July 26, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
Loving Only Humans
Intelligent, well versed, witty even. My thoughts lingered to my father this morning as I sat and watch the pastor give his weekly sermon.
He was no more than 30-ish - well into the prime of his life actually. Here he was expounding all the intricate details of The Good Book to a crowd that consisted of people mostly twice his age. And yet he spoke with great conviction and courage for the things he had to say were hard to say, but harder still to hear.
About 30 years earlier, it was my father who stood before this very stage. Preaching the Word of God to a congregation that consisted of mostly his peers - young adults that eventually grew old and became the elders of the church today. I look at the pastor today and imagined how it was for my father when he did the preaching. Back then, my brother and I were just toddlers. My mother would sit in the front row minding the both of us. According to my mother, my brother was a restless little bugger who sometimes crawled/sprinted out onto the stage as my father was giving his sermon and my father had to stop a while to shoo him back to the seats - much to the amusement of the crowd. Not me, I was always a good boy. :-P
My memories of my father here consisted mainly of his standing on the front rostrum quoting some bible verse while the congregation listened and nodded attentively, or behind the drum set jamming it up with cool drum rolls and upbeat tempos. I was too young to understand anything that was happening at the time, including how and why my father eventually got booted out of church, but at the time, in my mind my father was the coolest man on earth - and there was nothing I wanted more than to be just like him when I grew up. Such was the way I idolized my father.
Because my father was a preaching, I just assumed that he was a Godly man. I guess that's what all of us do. Surely, a man who preached the word of God was a man of God right? The two facts were supposed to be mutually implied. But that was before I could understand things like hypocrisy, false hearts and weakness of the flesh. As I grew up, I slowly discovered that my father wasn't quite the Godly man I thought him to be. He was flawed in many ways, and the things that he did, said and felt proved himself to be only too human.
He was judged harshly - shunned and rejected till eventually he moved our family hundreds of miles away, in search of solace. People he called brothers turned their backs on him and called for his immediate removal. The ironic thing is, the people who called for him downfall weren't necessarily better. Many of them had flaws of their own. Many of them drank, gambled and womanized and lived according to the ways of the world too. But nevertheless, they took the moral high ground and hiding behind a shield of holiness, they kicked him out. But it's hard to blame them. It is natural of people to judge the men who claim to serve God more harshly. We simply cannot accept it if a person we look to as a spiritual Sheppard goes awry in his own ways. It puts a shadow over every word ever uttered from his mouth. To preach the word of God in public but do the opposite in private is the epitome of hypocrisy.
I looked at up at the stage at this man. He certainly had the charm and charisma. People would follow a man who spoke like that. And he preached very closely to the words of The Good Book. Take words and passages that's were inspired by no less than God himself, and deliver it through a man who spoke with so much wit AND conviction, it's hard not to want to believe the man is indeed a man of God.
But is that so? Look at what has happened with the Catholic priest in the US and Europe, look at all some of the misguided and perverted former religious leaders such as Jim Jones, look at my own father. If you ask me, a priest / pastor / religious leader is as godly as a criminal is evil. It's likely to be true, but not necessarily so.
Though it is not my will to see this man fall from grace, no one should ever judge him too quickly or condemn him too harshly if he ever should. It's not that we should start developing a tolerance for what is wrong or lower our moral standards. It's just that it seems that when it comes to people we look up to, be it a celebrity, a government leader, pastor, or just someone we deeply respect, we develop false impressions on who they really are and what they are like.
I used to love my father, and idolized him. And then I grew up and started to see his flaws - and they were many. I felt betrayed. I felt misled. I felt like the person I believed in never existed in the first place. And then I grew up some more and made mistakes of my own - and they were many too. Then I looked at my father again with fresh eyes - and saw in him again the man that I used to believe in, existing there amongst all the flaws and weaknesses, like it always has. I idolized him no more, but I learned to love him regardless.
He is only human. So is the pastor. So am I. So is everyone else.
He was no more than 30-ish - well into the prime of his life actually. Here he was expounding all the intricate details of The Good Book to a crowd that consisted of people mostly twice his age. And yet he spoke with great conviction and courage for the things he had to say were hard to say, but harder still to hear.
About 30 years earlier, it was my father who stood before this very stage. Preaching the Word of God to a congregation that consisted of mostly his peers - young adults that eventually grew old and became the elders of the church today. I look at the pastor today and imagined how it was for my father when he did the preaching. Back then, my brother and I were just toddlers. My mother would sit in the front row minding the both of us. According to my mother, my brother was a restless little bugger who sometimes crawled/sprinted out onto the stage as my father was giving his sermon and my father had to stop a while to shoo him back to the seats - much to the amusement of the crowd. Not me, I was always a good boy. :-P
My memories of my father here consisted mainly of his standing on the front rostrum quoting some bible verse while the congregation listened and nodded attentively, or behind the drum set jamming it up with cool drum rolls and upbeat tempos. I was too young to understand anything that was happening at the time, including how and why my father eventually got booted out of church, but at the time, in my mind my father was the coolest man on earth - and there was nothing I wanted more than to be just like him when I grew up. Such was the way I idolized my father.
Because my father was a preaching, I just assumed that he was a Godly man. I guess that's what all of us do. Surely, a man who preached the word of God was a man of God right? The two facts were supposed to be mutually implied. But that was before I could understand things like hypocrisy, false hearts and weakness of the flesh. As I grew up, I slowly discovered that my father wasn't quite the Godly man I thought him to be. He was flawed in many ways, and the things that he did, said and felt proved himself to be only too human.
He was judged harshly - shunned and rejected till eventually he moved our family hundreds of miles away, in search of solace. People he called brothers turned their backs on him and called for his immediate removal. The ironic thing is, the people who called for him downfall weren't necessarily better. Many of them had flaws of their own. Many of them drank, gambled and womanized and lived according to the ways of the world too. But nevertheless, they took the moral high ground and hiding behind a shield of holiness, they kicked him out. But it's hard to blame them. It is natural of people to judge the men who claim to serve God more harshly. We simply cannot accept it if a person we look to as a spiritual Sheppard goes awry in his own ways. It puts a shadow over every word ever uttered from his mouth. To preach the word of God in public but do the opposite in private is the epitome of hypocrisy.
I looked at up at the stage at this man. He certainly had the charm and charisma. People would follow a man who spoke like that. And he preached very closely to the words of The Good Book. Take words and passages that's were inspired by no less than God himself, and deliver it through a man who spoke with so much wit AND conviction, it's hard not to want to believe the man is indeed a man of God.
But is that so? Look at what has happened with the Catholic priest in the US and Europe, look at all some of the misguided and perverted former religious leaders such as Jim Jones, look at my own father. If you ask me, a priest / pastor / religious leader is as godly as a criminal is evil. It's likely to be true, but not necessarily so.
Though it is not my will to see this man fall from grace, no one should ever judge him too quickly or condemn him too harshly if he ever should. It's not that we should start developing a tolerance for what is wrong or lower our moral standards. It's just that it seems that when it comes to people we look up to, be it a celebrity, a government leader, pastor, or just someone we deeply respect, we develop false impressions on who they really are and what they are like.
I used to love my father, and idolized him. And then I grew up and started to see his flaws - and they were many. I felt betrayed. I felt misled. I felt like the person I believed in never existed in the first place. And then I grew up some more and made mistakes of my own - and they were many too. Then I looked at my father again with fresh eyes - and saw in him again the man that I used to believe in, existing there amongst all the flaws and weaknesses, like it always has. I idolized him no more, but I learned to love him regardless.
He is only human. So is the pastor. So am I. So is everyone else.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
God... I don't want anything. I just want a hug
I brought my mother to church last Sunday morning. Church on Sunday mornings seem to have become our little 'together' time for my mother and I, whenever I do manage to wake up to go that is... or whenever I'm not sleeping. My mother's quite clingy to me. If you ever see me with outside eyes, as we walk down the street to the church entrance, you will see this big overgrown young chap with a belly way too big, and eyes way too small.. and next to him, this petite, slightly limping, short woman clinging on to the guys' arm with a lot of involuntary facial movements on her face.
It was the first Sunday of the year.. and service was a bit longer than usual and for some reason, the worship team decided to sing all sorts of variations the song Amazing Grace. I love Amazing Grace... it touches me deeply every time I listen to it. I turned to my mother and casually told her "Ma, when I die, I want this song to be one of the songs played on my eulogy....." She looked at me and reached out her hand.. and clasped her palms against mine and kept silent for a while. "Don't think about death Hann.... You're still young, and you have a full life to live." she said to me... and kept silent. I looked back at her and kept silent as well. I wasn't sure if I had just touched a raw nerve with her, talking about me dying. My father once told me that it is every parents worst nightmare to outlive their children.. and to have to watch their children die before the. I just continued holding her hand, this time pulling it so that I was clasping it with both my hands. I tried thinking about how many people would actually be affected if I just dropped dead one day. I don't think there were that many, but they were significant to me. I heard a phrase once that said "Do not pity the dead. Pity the living.. and those who live without love. If I died today, who would be there to take care of them? And that song written by Garth Brooks and re-sang by Ronan Keating "Is the love I gave her in the past, gonna be enough to last, if tomorrow never comes?" People always think funerals are for the deceased. But its actually for the living.. and those left behind to struggle on in life.. before finally passing on too.
After a few moments, I tossed the thoughts away. Spending your Sunday mornings thinking but your death was a bit too morbid, even for my standards.
I have a thing for the sound of pianos. I'm enchanted every single time I find myself standing before a pianist belting out song after song passionately, as if the essence of the song is literally flowing out of the tip of their fingers. A few weeks earlier, walking alone in the mall, there was a lady playing Christmas carols on the piano. I smile and nod at her, and stood there for a good 25 minutes just watching her playing song after song with so much enthusiasm and so much heart... it just entranced me. And I only left because I didn't want to freak the poor lady out fearing I might be some sort of crazy stalker.
And that Sunday morning, as the Pastor asked everyone to rise, bow our heads, close our eyes and join in prayer... the pianist worked his melodious magic. And I know I was really supposed to be focusing on God, and praying for the sick, and the poor and the needy and what have you.... but I was emotionally overwhelmed, as I had been for the past week anyway. And all I could think of in the still and quiet of that prayerful moment was "God............ I don't want anything. I just want a hug." It was at that moment that I realized just how starved of affection I really was. My heart felt like it was achiong, for want of a hug. I wanted a hug. I needed a hug.
Growing up mostly with my relatives, and also with my step mother and father, we were never really very touchy people. My father used to hug us and lift us up onto his shoulders when we were kids. But I guess most of it stopped after we grew up. I never started being touchy and 'huggy' until I actually started being in a relationship. And once I started...I guess I never stopped, as if trying to make up for the first 17 years of lack of hugs and physical affection. I hugged and I kissed my partner.... every damn day without fail, unless she was pissed at me and threatened to bite my arm if I came anywhere near her.
I reached out, and held my mother by the shoulder, as we walked away from church.. and I gave her a brief, sideways hug, and she held my arm close to her body. She was never this touchy or warm when I was growing up. Maybe it was because of the depression and schizophrenia that made it impossible in the past. Back then, if she wasn't lying around sleeping the whole day, she was up, going on and on in the most paranoid manner about my father and his alleged affairs. But these days, the gives out hugs and kissed to us, as often as the opportunity arises... which makes me really glad. We drove off and went home.
That night, as we were about to part ways, she again, extended her arms wide open, and I hugged her tightly.. and she gave me a kiss on my cheek.. again someting she never did when I was young. And I was just thinking.. perhaps I wasn't the only one trying to make up for loss time when it came to hugs and kisses. I drove in silence... and asked myself of all days, of all times, why did I suddenly have this strong desire or need to be hugged. Why now? Why today?
Maybe it's because deep down... I'm still feeling lonely... and longing so badly for some sort of affection. I'm still trying to come to terms... trying to get grips on the fact that I could leave office at 6.30pm or 9.30pm.. and it doesn't really make a difference, because no one's waiting for me. I could decide to take a 2 hour drive down to Melaka and have chicken rice ball and Satay celup, stay the night there, travel further south to Singapore and make my slow way home through the trunk roads and be home 2 days later... and no one would really mind or care in any way. No one really cares. I am alone. And it's hard to admit.
I think my pride has somehow not allowed me to admit that I'm lonely. Not to myself, and certainly not to the people around me. A friend ask me point blank, as 6~7 of us were out having dinner together "How? Are you lonely?". And I stared blankly at him. It was the last question I was prepared to answer. "Welll...okaaaaay la.. I mean... It's alright. I'm managing. It's not like I'm going to die." I managed a weak smile before burying my head, looking down at the food I was eating. And in my heart, I just wonder "Why do people even bother asking such silly questions anyway? OF COURSE I FEEL LONELY YOU IDIOT, DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO ASK? Do you expect me to have some sort of emo episode right there and then? I love my friends to bits.. but they sure can be such a bunch of insensitive idiots at times.
School has been out for me for a good few years now. But I guess when it comes to the subject of love, and life..... and everything in between, class is never out. There is always something to learn, or re-learn. And for me this year, I either have to learn how to get more hugs without actually having to ask for one.... or I just need to finally learn how to be by myself without feeling like half a person.
It was the first Sunday of the year.. and service was a bit longer than usual and for some reason, the worship team decided to sing all sorts of variations the song Amazing Grace. I love Amazing Grace... it touches me deeply every time I listen to it. I turned to my mother and casually told her "Ma, when I die, I want this song to be one of the songs played on my eulogy....." She looked at me and reached out her hand.. and clasped her palms against mine and kept silent for a while. "Don't think about death Hann.... You're still young, and you have a full life to live." she said to me... and kept silent. I looked back at her and kept silent as well. I wasn't sure if I had just touched a raw nerve with her, talking about me dying. My father once told me that it is every parents worst nightmare to outlive their children.. and to have to watch their children die before the. I just continued holding her hand, this time pulling it so that I was clasping it with both my hands. I tried thinking about how many people would actually be affected if I just dropped dead one day. I don't think there were that many, but they were significant to me. I heard a phrase once that said "Do not pity the dead. Pity the living.. and those who live without love. If I died today, who would be there to take care of them? And that song written by Garth Brooks and re-sang by Ronan Keating "Is the love I gave her in the past, gonna be enough to last, if tomorrow never comes?" People always think funerals are for the deceased. But its actually for the living.. and those left behind to struggle on in life.. before finally passing on too.
After a few moments, I tossed the thoughts away. Spending your Sunday mornings thinking but your death was a bit too morbid, even for my standards.
I have a thing for the sound of pianos. I'm enchanted every single time I find myself standing before a pianist belting out song after song passionately, as if the essence of the song is literally flowing out of the tip of their fingers. A few weeks earlier, walking alone in the mall, there was a lady playing Christmas carols on the piano. I smile and nod at her, and stood there for a good 25 minutes just watching her playing song after song with so much enthusiasm and so much heart... it just entranced me. And I only left because I didn't want to freak the poor lady out fearing I might be some sort of crazy stalker.
And that Sunday morning, as the Pastor asked everyone to rise, bow our heads, close our eyes and join in prayer... the pianist worked his melodious magic. And I know I was really supposed to be focusing on God, and praying for the sick, and the poor and the needy and what have you.... but I was emotionally overwhelmed, as I had been for the past week anyway. And all I could think of in the still and quiet of that prayerful moment was "God............ I don't want anything. I just want a hug." It was at that moment that I realized just how starved of affection I really was. My heart felt like it was achiong, for want of a hug. I wanted a hug. I needed a hug.
Growing up mostly with my relatives, and also with my step mother and father, we were never really very touchy people. My father used to hug us and lift us up onto his shoulders when we were kids. But I guess most of it stopped after we grew up. I never started being touchy and 'huggy' until I actually started being in a relationship. And once I started...I guess I never stopped, as if trying to make up for the first 17 years of lack of hugs and physical affection. I hugged and I kissed my partner.... every damn day without fail, unless she was pissed at me and threatened to bite my arm if I came anywhere near her.
I reached out, and held my mother by the shoulder, as we walked away from church.. and I gave her a brief, sideways hug, and she held my arm close to her body. She was never this touchy or warm when I was growing up. Maybe it was because of the depression and schizophrenia that made it impossible in the past. Back then, if she wasn't lying around sleeping the whole day, she was up, going on and on in the most paranoid manner about my father and his alleged affairs. But these days, the gives out hugs and kissed to us, as often as the opportunity arises... which makes me really glad. We drove off and went home.
That night, as we were about to part ways, she again, extended her arms wide open, and I hugged her tightly.. and she gave me a kiss on my cheek.. again someting she never did when I was young. And I was just thinking.. perhaps I wasn't the only one trying to make up for loss time when it came to hugs and kisses. I drove in silence... and asked myself of all days, of all times, why did I suddenly have this strong desire or need to be hugged. Why now? Why today?
Maybe it's because deep down... I'm still feeling lonely... and longing so badly for some sort of affection. I'm still trying to come to terms... trying to get grips on the fact that I could leave office at 6.30pm or 9.30pm.. and it doesn't really make a difference, because no one's waiting for me. I could decide to take a 2 hour drive down to Melaka and have chicken rice ball and Satay celup, stay the night there, travel further south to Singapore and make my slow way home through the trunk roads and be home 2 days later... and no one would really mind or care in any way. No one really cares. I am alone. And it's hard to admit.
I think my pride has somehow not allowed me to admit that I'm lonely. Not to myself, and certainly not to the people around me. A friend ask me point blank, as 6~7 of us were out having dinner together "How? Are you lonely?". And I stared blankly at him. It was the last question I was prepared to answer. "Welll...okaaaaay la.. I mean... It's alright. I'm managing. It's not like I'm going to die." I managed a weak smile before burying my head, looking down at the food I was eating. And in my heart, I just wonder "Why do people even bother asking such silly questions anyway? OF COURSE I FEEL LONELY YOU IDIOT, DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO ASK? Do you expect me to have some sort of emo episode right there and then? I love my friends to bits.. but they sure can be such a bunch of insensitive idiots at times.
School has been out for me for a good few years now. But I guess when it comes to the subject of love, and life..... and everything in between, class is never out. There is always something to learn, or re-learn. And for me this year, I either have to learn how to get more hugs without actually having to ask for one.... or I just need to finally learn how to be by myself without feeling like half a person.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Mondays Sunny Side Up
I'm feeling good today. I jumped in my car, turned the volume up and start speeding down the road to office as the song of my choice, Mika - Grace Kelly starts blasting over my stereo. I'm in the mood today.
I usually hate Mondays. And it's usually because I feel like the weekend wasn't satisfying enough, and I wake up Monday morning wishing that I had more time during the weekend to do the things I wanted to do over the weekend.
But I just had a great weekend.
Met up with someone for lunch on Saturday, and sat for a whopping 5 hours over endless cups of green tea, over sweetened watermelon juice and a weird but surprisingly tasty honey-lime-papaya juice... doing nothing but chatting and getting to know one another. Just the kind of one to one interaction I enjoyed most. Made an oath that if I ever reach the age of 35, never to try hitting on pretty and intelligent 19 year old girls. I also discovered that to compensate for the lack of an attractive physique and a receding hairline, older men eventually learn how to become extremely charming sweet mouthed. Capable of killer lines such as "I've never felt like this with any other women before, but somehow with you I feel like there is a connection."...... GOOOOWD.. I felt like poking the eyes of of the next fat balding 35 year old man I see. Mainly because by right lines like that should be reserved for use only when it really is true, and not like after a few dinners and chats on the phone!! Those precious kind of lines should be nothing less than SACRED to a man, and not some standard 'charm line' that follicle-ly challenged lonely geezers use on girls they fancy. And the prettier the girl, the more likely she's heard it a thousand times before from other birds nest headed dudes, thus destroying EVERYONE's chances. Stop it old man, stop it!! Imagine if a, less suave, but entirely genuine younger guy, who knows nothing else than speaking what's in his heart, eventually plucks up the courage to tell the girl of his dreams the same line..... only he MEANS it. What will said pretty girl do? What will she think? She's blow him off too! The poor chap will be scarred for life! He'd probably give up on women and *gasp* become a celibate MONK!!.. Oh the tragedy!! *sob sob*
Anyway, the hours flew by and before you know it was dinner time. My dad did always say time flies when you are sitting with a beautiful girl. I thought he was just being metaphoric. Turns out he was literally right.
I rushed home, and brought my family out for dinner. Choice of food? Indian. Banana Leaf Rice. Mode of eating? Bare hands baby! It's always fun eating with your hands (once in a while)... people say the food taste extra good. (I suspect these people would tell you not to wash your hands too) I duno.. I just like ripping the chicken apart with my hands like some medieval barbarian. Didn't really like the fact that your hands tend to smell like curry for a good few hours after no matter how many times you wash your hands. Got back to my brothers place, and lied down in bed next to my mother, holding her hand. She insisted that I tell her all the itsy bitsy nitty gritty little details about my life. She wanted to hear everything. And so I told her... not quite everything, but enough to let her know about her sons life. I could tell she wanted to hear it because every time I told her something new, she would smile, and share in my excitement. In my heart I was glad... glad that I was blessed to see such a moment such as this. A peaceful, quiet, time where we just sat there being mother and son. It has been a rough and tough last 10 years for her, and for us. And at that moment, looking at my mother, holding her and and hearing her laughter... I realized just how fiercely protective I was over her. Not many people know this side of me, or seen me in this kind of mode........but I'm actually a mommy's boy... shhhhhhhhhhhhhh
The next morning, I picked her up again, and for the second Sunday in a row, I actually brought her to church. And for once, I didn't feel like God was about to strike me with lightning at any moment. Mainly because I was holding my mothers hand, and I'm pretty sure God wasn't about to strike me as long I was holding on to her. So it may seem like she was clinging on to me, avoiding the cars and all, But it was really ME clinging on to her, avoiding divine punishment from God. LOL. I enjoy listening to sermons.. and believe it or not, I actually pay attention. I do listen and try to absorb what the pastor says. Whether or not I actually practice what is preached is entirely different of course.. but the thing is, there are not many places you can turn to for spiritual guidance. Many people don't realize that human beings are not only emotional beings, we are also spiritual beings. We crave for spiritual and emotional growth and guidance....not logic and reason. those are secondary. That's why every corner of the earth, where there is people, there is SOME form of religion or belief. We look beyond ourselves, to the people around us, to leaders, and ultimately to the Divine for some spiritual food. That's why I pay attention during service. After service, we scurried off (mom and I not one to mingle around much with people) and went for lunch. Returned to my brothers place after that and just hanged around the living room doing nothing.
I discovered that my brother thought that I was a very serious person, that I take myself and life a bit too seriously sometimes. Isn't it weird to hear that coming from your older brother? I agree that I DO take life seriously. I DO take the people around me seriously. Aren't we supposed to? But if there is one thing I have tried to do all these years, is not take MYSELF too seriously. I try to laugh at myself. And since no one seems to dare making fun of me, I make fun of myself. My squinty eyes, my pseudo beer belly (that's a typical beer belly that you get even though you hardly drink beer.. bizarre eh?), my absolute lack of dressing sense beyond T-shirts and jeans... and of course, my ultra lame Visit Kuala Lumpur T-shirts I wear almost all the time. I mean, better people laugh with you than at you right?
And in his attempt to 'lighten me up' so to speak, he often invited me to play computer games with him which I often rejected. I know how to play computer games, but I sort of outgrew them in secondary school see. But I was in a particularly good mood this weekend... being in a sort of 'bonding mood' ever since Friday night. And so, for a change, I invited him to play computer games with me. And we played for a couple of hours, battling evil wizards and demonic creatures and saving the world from certain doom. You see, I learnt that you bond with ladies by having heart to heart talks and talking about your feelings. You bond with guys, by beating the crap out of highly detailed, computer rendered demon characters in a fantasy world. Nothing says we are brothers for life better than saving the world from certain doom together. That or exchanging dirty jokes.... but that's not something I'd do with my dear brother.
And on the side, I got praise from my mother for taking pictures of pretty flowers in Cameron Highlands. She's a big fan of flowers, so I think she was praising the flowers more than my photo actually. But still, I felt like a little school boy all over again, receiving praise from mommy. LOL. Here's the picture.
Evening, I sent my mother back to the nursing home, and headed straight to the swimming pool... which to my delight.. was near empty. That means no annoying kids that pee in the pool, no frighteningly muscular swimmers that make you feel like a blop of unattractive fat and no eager beaver show off boys trying to impress scantily clad girls swimming around. No pretty girls around too.. sigh... but heck, I can't see anything without my specs anyway, so wasn't missing much even if there was any around.
After an hour of swimming, I showered and came home, with dinner and my beautiful fiancee already waiting! Had dinner, retired into the room, wrestled on the bed and tickling each other, lazed around and talked for another good few hours before finally dozed into my sleep. Work schedules tend to get int he way. She said she missed talking to me like this. Casual conversations about whatever really. Didn't really matter what we talked about... it always seems interesting she said. Said I was a nice person to talk to, and it made me smile ear to ear....
I don't always have something to give people, I don't always have wise words or insightful thoughts to share... but I do always have my company to give people, for those who want it. Nothing made me happier than knowing the people around me enjoy my company.
Good conversations, enjoyable company, bits and pieces of bonding with family, paying your Maker long overdue respects and worship, not get strike by lightning, saving the world from certain doom, receiving praise, alone time, exercise, and a home cooked dinner on Sunday night..... Aaaaahhhhh...... Now THAT's a weekend.
So much so, it seems to have spilled over to Monday morning. And as I parked downstairs of my office, I swore to myself I'd not check my mail OR write a single post till I got my job done. But I guess, when you've got something to share, there's no better time to do it than the present. Fresh off the oven. Have a good Monday folks.
Cheers!
I usually hate Mondays. And it's usually because I feel like the weekend wasn't satisfying enough, and I wake up Monday morning wishing that I had more time during the weekend to do the things I wanted to do over the weekend.
But I just had a great weekend.
Met up with someone for lunch on Saturday, and sat for a whopping 5 hours over endless cups of green tea, over sweetened watermelon juice and a weird but surprisingly tasty honey-lime-papaya juice... doing nothing but chatting and getting to know one another. Just the kind of one to one interaction I enjoyed most. Made an oath that if I ever reach the age of 35, never to try hitting on pretty and intelligent 19 year old girls. I also discovered that to compensate for the lack of an attractive physique and a receding hairline, older men eventually learn how to become extremely charming sweet mouthed. Capable of killer lines such as "I've never felt like this with any other women before, but somehow with you I feel like there is a connection."...... GOOOOWD.. I felt like poking the eyes of of the next fat balding 35 year old man I see. Mainly because by right lines like that should be reserved for use only when it really is true, and not like after a few dinners and chats on the phone!! Those precious kind of lines should be nothing less than SACRED to a man, and not some standard 'charm line' that follicle-ly challenged lonely geezers use on girls they fancy. And the prettier the girl, the more likely she's heard it a thousand times before from other birds nest headed dudes, thus destroying EVERYONE's chances. Stop it old man, stop it!! Imagine if a, less suave, but entirely genuine younger guy, who knows nothing else than speaking what's in his heart, eventually plucks up the courage to tell the girl of his dreams the same line..... only he MEANS it. What will said pretty girl do? What will she think? She's blow him off too! The poor chap will be scarred for life! He'd probably give up on women and *gasp* become a celibate MONK!!.. Oh the tragedy!! *sob sob*
Anyway, the hours flew by and before you know it was dinner time. My dad did always say time flies when you are sitting with a beautiful girl. I thought he was just being metaphoric. Turns out he was literally right.
I rushed home, and brought my family out for dinner. Choice of food? Indian. Banana Leaf Rice. Mode of eating? Bare hands baby! It's always fun eating with your hands (once in a while)... people say the food taste extra good. (I suspect these people would tell you not to wash your hands too) I duno.. I just like ripping the chicken apart with my hands like some medieval barbarian. Didn't really like the fact that your hands tend to smell like curry for a good few hours after no matter how many times you wash your hands. Got back to my brothers place, and lied down in bed next to my mother, holding her hand. She insisted that I tell her all the itsy bitsy nitty gritty little details about my life. She wanted to hear everything. And so I told her... not quite everything, but enough to let her know about her sons life. I could tell she wanted to hear it because every time I told her something new, she would smile, and share in my excitement. In my heart I was glad... glad that I was blessed to see such a moment such as this. A peaceful, quiet, time where we just sat there being mother and son. It has been a rough and tough last 10 years for her, and for us. And at that moment, looking at my mother, holding her and and hearing her laughter... I realized just how fiercely protective I was over her. Not many people know this side of me, or seen me in this kind of mode........but I'm actually a mommy's boy... shhhhhhhhhhhhhh
The next morning, I picked her up again, and for the second Sunday in a row, I actually brought her to church. And for once, I didn't feel like God was about to strike me with lightning at any moment. Mainly because I was holding my mothers hand, and I'm pretty sure God wasn't about to strike me as long I was holding on to her. So it may seem like she was clinging on to me, avoiding the cars and all, But it was really ME clinging on to her, avoiding divine punishment from God. LOL. I enjoy listening to sermons.. and believe it or not, I actually pay attention. I do listen and try to absorb what the pastor says. Whether or not I actually practice what is preached is entirely different of course.. but the thing is, there are not many places you can turn to for spiritual guidance. Many people don't realize that human beings are not only emotional beings, we are also spiritual beings. We crave for spiritual and emotional growth and guidance....not logic and reason. those are secondary. That's why every corner of the earth, where there is people, there is SOME form of religion or belief. We look beyond ourselves, to the people around us, to leaders, and ultimately to the Divine for some spiritual food. That's why I pay attention during service. After service, we scurried off (mom and I not one to mingle around much with people) and went for lunch. Returned to my brothers place after that and just hanged around the living room doing nothing.
I discovered that my brother thought that I was a very serious person, that I take myself and life a bit too seriously sometimes. Isn't it weird to hear that coming from your older brother? I agree that I DO take life seriously. I DO take the people around me seriously. Aren't we supposed to? But if there is one thing I have tried to do all these years, is not take MYSELF too seriously. I try to laugh at myself. And since no one seems to dare making fun of me, I make fun of myself. My squinty eyes, my pseudo beer belly (that's a typical beer belly that you get even though you hardly drink beer.. bizarre eh?), my absolute lack of dressing sense beyond T-shirts and jeans... and of course, my ultra lame Visit Kuala Lumpur T-shirts I wear almost all the time. I mean, better people laugh with you than at you right?
And in his attempt to 'lighten me up' so to speak, he often invited me to play computer games with him which I often rejected. I know how to play computer games, but I sort of outgrew them in secondary school see. But I was in a particularly good mood this weekend... being in a sort of 'bonding mood' ever since Friday night. And so, for a change, I invited him to play computer games with me. And we played for a couple of hours, battling evil wizards and demonic creatures and saving the world from certain doom. You see, I learnt that you bond with ladies by having heart to heart talks and talking about your feelings. You bond with guys, by beating the crap out of highly detailed, computer rendered demon characters in a fantasy world. Nothing says we are brothers for life better than saving the world from certain doom together. That or exchanging dirty jokes.... but that's not something I'd do with my dear brother.
And on the side, I got praise from my mother for taking pictures of pretty flowers in Cameron Highlands. She's a big fan of flowers, so I think she was praising the flowers more than my photo actually. But still, I felt like a little school boy all over again, receiving praise from mommy. LOL. Here's the picture.
Evening, I sent my mother back to the nursing home, and headed straight to the swimming pool... which to my delight.. was near empty. That means no annoying kids that pee in the pool, no frighteningly muscular swimmers that make you feel like a blop of unattractive fat and no eager beaver show off boys trying to impress scantily clad girls swimming around. No pretty girls around too.. sigh... but heck, I can't see anything without my specs anyway, so wasn't missing much even if there was any around.
After an hour of swimming, I showered and came home, with dinner and my beautiful fiancee already waiting! Had dinner, retired into the room, wrestled on the bed and tickling each other, lazed around and talked for another good few hours before finally dozed into my sleep. Work schedules tend to get int he way. She said she missed talking to me like this. Casual conversations about whatever really. Didn't really matter what we talked about... it always seems interesting she said. Said I was a nice person to talk to, and it made me smile ear to ear....
I don't always have something to give people, I don't always have wise words or insightful thoughts to share... but I do always have my company to give people, for those who want it. Nothing made me happier than knowing the people around me enjoy my company.
Good conversations, enjoyable company, bits and pieces of bonding with family, paying your Maker long overdue respects and worship, not get strike by lightning, saving the world from certain doom, receiving praise, alone time, exercise, and a home cooked dinner on Sunday night..... Aaaaahhhhh...... Now THAT's a weekend.
So much so, it seems to have spilled over to Monday morning. And as I parked downstairs of my office, I swore to myself I'd not check my mail OR write a single post till I got my job done. But I guess, when you've got something to share, there's no better time to do it than the present. Fresh off the oven. Have a good Monday folks.
Cheers!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Peace be with you (Good riddance)
“The next time you plan to see him, bring me along. I will give him a piece of my mind. Let him repeat those words again in front of me….”
I was pissed. He usually gets taken aback every time I start talking in such a forceful nature. I rarely feel strongly about things, and rarely in such a note. I’m easy going most of the time. But some things are close to my heart, and none so more than this. None so more than the welfare of my mother.
“No la, they mean well….They are thinking of her welfare.”
They MEAN WELL? Some of the worst deeds every done were with the BEST intentions.
“I don’t like them planting ideas into her head. HELLO, I DON’T NEED YOU TO TELL ME HOW TO TAKE CARE OF MY MOTHER. I know it’s my pride talking, I know it may sound arrogant. But I don’t like it when people give suggestions just like that without first understanding first what we have been through ALREADY. So simple and easy and idea. Do they really think we haven’t tried that already? Do they really think we are THAT naïve and silly to not have thought of that by now. Didn’t you explain to them that we already tried living together with her AT LEAST THREE TIMES? And the last time, SHE NEARLY DIED?! Show them the scar on her skull.”
Silence……..
“We don’t need their money. We took up this responsibility long before they ever came into the picture, and we will still be doing in long after they are gone. If you want to help, HELP. Don’t try putting strings on it. I don’t need your approval on how best to care for my mother. Take your benevolent fund money and bring it somewhere else, to someone who needs it more. I’m sure there’s an orphanage somewhere, or an old folks home that need that money more than us. Go do it and feel good about yourself.”
“It’s not about the money. They just want to know what we plan to do before considering renewing their funding.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just pissed. I can chip in more if you are too burdened… But I’m not going to go up to them, pleading and justifying why we need the money.”
“He’s just trying to ask for some supporting justification. I don’t think it’s his call. It’s part of their benevolent fund committee to decide.”
“Isn’t he the HEAD of the committee? Committees don’t make decision brother, PEOPLE DO. PEOPLE MAKE DECISIONS. If HE goes before the committee and vouch that we DO need the fund, isn’t that justification enough? Committees are the thing people HIDE BEHIND when they don’t dare to make a decision and stand by it."
More silence.
“It’s easy for them to just say take her out of the home, rent a bigger house and all of us stay together. Haven’t we already done, the first time being 10 years ago? You remember that? We DID try. And she tried to commit suicide by swallowing all the tablets. I HAD TO BRING HER TO THE HOSPITAL, IN MY SCHOOL UNIFORM IN A TAXI I BARELY HAD ENOUGH MONEY TO PAY FOR. Does HE KNOW THAT?”
“Sigh… I know I know.”
“You know, but do they? Anyway, just let me know when OK. We’ll tell them the whole story together. I want to see if he dares say the same thing to me again. Talk to you later. Bye.”
“OK. Bye.”
I know I’m disillusioned. I know I’ve lost my faith. Not in God, but in man. Men supposedly calling themselves men of God. People who go to church every Sunday, worship, pray, set up organizations and trying to help others in the name of God… They set up committees, they set up procedures, the set up trust funds, big, influential, rich. Somewhere along the way, they seem to have lost their soul.
They give thoughtless suggestions and ideas.. planting ideas to my mother behind my back, ignorant to just how dangerous those ideas can become. No insight into the present. No foresight to the future.
Where have you been oh church?
Where was the church when my mother became ill? Where were you when my father, a former associate pastor at the church needed support the most? Did you not shun him the minute you knew he had problems with his wife, deeming him UNFIT to lead other brother and sisters in Christ? How quickly you turn your backs! Where were you when my mother lived for years alone up north, with no job, no money, no protection, no friends, no help? Where you the ones who sent food to her every day out of kindness? It wasn’t. It was people from the nearby Buddhist temple. What have you given beyond lip service? Where were you when my mother was lost for months, after running away with nothing but the cloths behind her back and with empty pockets? Where you there with me, when I ran the streets of pudu raya, desperately trying to find her before it was too late? Where you there when we had to tie her down in the car with tears in our eyes and drive her 300 miles to KL, and hospitalize her? Where were you when we, as STUDENTS, used money meant for food and tuition fees to pay for her medication, not knowing if we will ever have enough? Where were you when I was lost, when I needed support through it all?
Where were you oh people of the church?
You think you understand, you think you know, you think you’re doing your part. You come when the weather is good, but disappear when it starts to rain. And now, when the weather is good, and we have our feet on the ground, somewhat stable, you try to tell me what to do, and what is best for her. You try to tell me you know better. You try to tell me that unless you agree with what I plan for her, you will not spare a cent. Where were you when it was darkest before dawn? Where were you when I cried out in fear, helplessness and desperation? Oh, that’s right…. Sunday evenings are cell group meetings and you were busy… and you DIDN’T KNOW.
If I do as you suggest, will you jointly take responsibility? Will you be there with me when I am running around in Pudu Raya searching for her? Are you going to travel 300 miles with me to retrieve her from some hospital if she gets run down by a lorry AGAIN? Will you stand by my side as I force her into the car and drive her to the hospital in event of a relapse? Will you put your hand on my shoulder and comfort me if God forbid, something happens to her? Will you? You won’t because you think you did your part by giving me your advice and your money. Your benevolent money…… How great of you.
Take your money and go elsewhere. Walk away and satisfy your ego and convince yourself that these ‘boys’ are selfish, that they don’t really have their mothers interest at heart; that they rather just keep her in a nursing home for their own convenience. These boys are hopeless. You’ve done what you can. You tried to help, but they refused your help. Go pray that God will send someone else to help. Go pray that God will change our stone cold hearts. Whatever makes you sleep better at night….
This is my struggle, not yours. I was facing this long before you came along. I will still be here, by her side, long after you have gone, still struggling. Thank you for all your help. I AM grateful for what you have done. Really, I am. But I don't need your help. You think you're doing Gods work. You think you carry His mandate. And who am I to challenge you? An unbaptized, unfaithful so called Christian who neither prays, nor go to Church nor do any Good Works. But God is my witness. I don't need to prove to you where my heart lies. He will provide for me, as He has done so far. Even if He forsakes me, and I burn in eternal hell for my transgressions, He will still take care of my mother, with or without your benevolent money.
If this is how you are going to be, I will ask no more from you. I never did in the first place.
Peace be with you.... but good riddance.
I was pissed. He usually gets taken aback every time I start talking in such a forceful nature. I rarely feel strongly about things, and rarely in such a note. I’m easy going most of the time. But some things are close to my heart, and none so more than this. None so more than the welfare of my mother.
“No la, they mean well….They are thinking of her welfare.”
They MEAN WELL? Some of the worst deeds every done were with the BEST intentions.
“I don’t like them planting ideas into her head. HELLO, I DON’T NEED YOU TO TELL ME HOW TO TAKE CARE OF MY MOTHER. I know it’s my pride talking, I know it may sound arrogant. But I don’t like it when people give suggestions just like that without first understanding first what we have been through ALREADY. So simple and easy and idea. Do they really think we haven’t tried that already? Do they really think we are THAT naïve and silly to not have thought of that by now. Didn’t you explain to them that we already tried living together with her AT LEAST THREE TIMES? And the last time, SHE NEARLY DIED?! Show them the scar on her skull.”
Silence……..
“We don’t need their money. We took up this responsibility long before they ever came into the picture, and we will still be doing in long after they are gone. If you want to help, HELP. Don’t try putting strings on it. I don’t need your approval on how best to care for my mother. Take your benevolent fund money and bring it somewhere else, to someone who needs it more. I’m sure there’s an orphanage somewhere, or an old folks home that need that money more than us. Go do it and feel good about yourself.”
“It’s not about the money. They just want to know what we plan to do before considering renewing their funding.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just pissed. I can chip in more if you are too burdened… But I’m not going to go up to them, pleading and justifying why we need the money.”
“He’s just trying to ask for some supporting justification. I don’t think it’s his call. It’s part of their benevolent fund committee to decide.”
“Isn’t he the HEAD of the committee? Committees don’t make decision brother, PEOPLE DO. PEOPLE MAKE DECISIONS. If HE goes before the committee and vouch that we DO need the fund, isn’t that justification enough? Committees are the thing people HIDE BEHIND when they don’t dare to make a decision and stand by it."
More silence.
“It’s easy for them to just say take her out of the home, rent a bigger house and all of us stay together. Haven’t we already done, the first time being 10 years ago? You remember that? We DID try. And she tried to commit suicide by swallowing all the tablets. I HAD TO BRING HER TO THE HOSPITAL, IN MY SCHOOL UNIFORM IN A TAXI I BARELY HAD ENOUGH MONEY TO PAY FOR. Does HE KNOW THAT?”
“Sigh… I know I know.”
“You know, but do they? Anyway, just let me know when OK. We’ll tell them the whole story together. I want to see if he dares say the same thing to me again. Talk to you later. Bye.”
“OK. Bye.”
****************************
I know I’m disillusioned. I know I’ve lost my faith. Not in God, but in man. Men supposedly calling themselves men of God. People who go to church every Sunday, worship, pray, set up organizations and trying to help others in the name of God… They set up committees, they set up procedures, the set up trust funds, big, influential, rich. Somewhere along the way, they seem to have lost their soul.
They give thoughtless suggestions and ideas.. planting ideas to my mother behind my back, ignorant to just how dangerous those ideas can become. No insight into the present. No foresight to the future.
Where have you been oh church?
Where was the church when my mother became ill? Where were you when my father, a former associate pastor at the church needed support the most? Did you not shun him the minute you knew he had problems with his wife, deeming him UNFIT to lead other brother and sisters in Christ? How quickly you turn your backs! Where were you when my mother lived for years alone up north, with no job, no money, no protection, no friends, no help? Where you the ones who sent food to her every day out of kindness? It wasn’t. It was people from the nearby Buddhist temple. What have you given beyond lip service? Where were you when my mother was lost for months, after running away with nothing but the cloths behind her back and with empty pockets? Where you there with me, when I ran the streets of pudu raya, desperately trying to find her before it was too late? Where you there when we had to tie her down in the car with tears in our eyes and drive her 300 miles to KL, and hospitalize her? Where were you when we, as STUDENTS, used money meant for food and tuition fees to pay for her medication, not knowing if we will ever have enough? Where were you when I was lost, when I needed support through it all?
Where were you oh people of the church?
You think you understand, you think you know, you think you’re doing your part. You come when the weather is good, but disappear when it starts to rain. And now, when the weather is good, and we have our feet on the ground, somewhat stable, you try to tell me what to do, and what is best for her. You try to tell me you know better. You try to tell me that unless you agree with what I plan for her, you will not spare a cent. Where were you when it was darkest before dawn? Where were you when I cried out in fear, helplessness and desperation? Oh, that’s right…. Sunday evenings are cell group meetings and you were busy… and you DIDN’T KNOW.
If I do as you suggest, will you jointly take responsibility? Will you be there with me when I am running around in Pudu Raya searching for her? Are you going to travel 300 miles with me to retrieve her from some hospital if she gets run down by a lorry AGAIN? Will you stand by my side as I force her into the car and drive her to the hospital in event of a relapse? Will you put your hand on my shoulder and comfort me if God forbid, something happens to her? Will you? You won’t because you think you did your part by giving me your advice and your money. Your benevolent money…… How great of you.
Take your money and go elsewhere. Walk away and satisfy your ego and convince yourself that these ‘boys’ are selfish, that they don’t really have their mothers interest at heart; that they rather just keep her in a nursing home for their own convenience. These boys are hopeless. You’ve done what you can. You tried to help, but they refused your help. Go pray that God will send someone else to help. Go pray that God will change our stone cold hearts. Whatever makes you sleep better at night….
This is my struggle, not yours. I was facing this long before you came along. I will still be here, by her side, long after you have gone, still struggling. Thank you for all your help. I AM grateful for what you have done. Really, I am. But I don't need your help. You think you're doing Gods work. You think you carry His mandate. And who am I to challenge you? An unbaptized, unfaithful so called Christian who neither prays, nor go to Church nor do any Good Works. But God is my witness. I don't need to prove to you where my heart lies. He will provide for me, as He has done so far. Even if He forsakes me, and I burn in eternal hell for my transgressions, He will still take care of my mother, with or without your benevolent money.
If this is how you are going to be, I will ask no more from you. I never did in the first place.
Peace be with you.... but good riddance.
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