Thoughts in Firenze

I prefer to keep you as a memory.

What Would Jesus Say?

sometimes I wonder what God thinks of my aspirations.

I imagine myself sitting at His feet, starry-eyed, babbling incomprehensibly about my I'm-going-to list, and He responds in either of these two ways:

1. He breaks my bubble in the gentlest of ways possible and tells me "My child, you have no idea how much more I can offer you..."

2. He goes 'whoohoo!' and cheers, 'You go my gorgeous!'

or maybe He just listens and smiles indulgently at my foolhardiness, knowing that one day I would finally know better and leave it all to His hands.

before I returned to God, I was always uptight about the things I wanted to do but couldn't. there was always one more assignment to rush, tons of work left to do, or other more pressing matters at hand. in short, my wants were secondary to the major needs (or what I interpreted needs to be) in life.

want to take up Japanese classes? maybe next year. fancy teaching in Osaka? forget about that until the teaching contract is up. always wanted to get hitched? if that beau even appears in the first place.

my mind was fraught with fear because there was always so much to do and so little time to see anything through. most days I was just battling my way through in the hopes that I could survive the day-much less the week-such that thinking about the distant future was just plain mockery of my dreams.

but God promised that He's never a second too late. if anything, He orchestrates the symphonies of our life, bringing together our hopes and His dreams for us in the most unexpected harmony ever.  in light of that, I find my fears foolish and irrelevant.

I once read somewhere that God is our Master Designer. we can trudge through life oblivious to God's handiwork, but that's alright as long as we abandon ourselves to Him and be fully assured of His promises that He is always at work, always weaving and sewing, and neither slumbers nor sleep.

this doesn't mean I understand any more what God has in store for me; this doesn't mean that I have since done away with my own silly wants; this doesn't mean I can keel over and sing Hallelujah at everything God wants me to do.

but I'm learning, and I know Someone's holding my hand--Someone strong, sturdy, ever-loving. Someone who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

I'm going London and I'm full of beans about it!

I've always known that I'll make my way there one day; I just didn't think this one day would be in a matter of months.

however, with this realization comes several handicaps. one, I can't begin to describe my excitement. everyday till the day I hop on to the plane -Emirates no less- I am sleeping London, breathing London and pooping London. I am on a London overdrive!

two, I can't thank God enough for His provision- from the ridiculously cheap airfare to the accommodation to the priceless advice from my well-traveled friends.

last, I can't wait to do this with the One who orchestrated the entire trip in the first place. I know it's going to be beautiful beyond measure.

and I know it's going to be the trip of a lifetime.

Shortening my Worry List

I've been catching myself with furrowed brows a lot of late.

I would slouch on my couch wondering if all I'm experiencing now is all that God has in store for me. I would avoid lovebirds like a plague because they set off the nagging suspicion in my heart that I'll never taste, much less smell, the sweet air of love. I would cry in my cubicle concluding that I am indeed the person you would interview if you're looking for a failure of a teacher.

everyday is a new battle for me. every morning I wake up questioning if I can overcome--or even face--the different giants waiting for me. every minute I ask when the last minute of the day will come. to say that I'm tired is just scratching the surface of my reality.

the past week had been particularly rotten for me. there was an avalanche of work sitting on my table, my students and I discovered a newfound enmity between ourselves, and just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I went home one day realizing that it wasn't a place of safety, but one crusted with fear and unrest. I was one disturbed individual.

but in the midst of spending time with God today, I came to realize how much I have underestimated the power of His might and His love for me. that even though I am conscious of them, I am not conscious enough--of their magnitude, of their vastness, not just for anybody else, but for me. and as I cried out to God, admitting my own lack and acknowledging His wholeness and grace, His still, small voice came so crystal clear that I knew in an instant that everything was going to be alright. that it was God's business as much as it was a business of time.

if you ask me now, I'll tell you that there are more questions than answers and that things never get easier. but I just want to take comfort in the fact that I have a secret companion, one who is with me when dark clouds brew, when I sob my heart out at my desk, when I am honest enough to admit I can't do it.

if God loves me that much, then I don't want the winter of my life right now to eclipse the spring that is to come.

It's Ok to Rest. Jesus Will Fight for Me.

the routine and demands of everyday life is catching up with me.

if anyone needs to find me, they only need to look in one of these four areas and I'm bound to be there: at my cubicle, poring over essays with grammar fit for the concoction of a linguist's poison. in class, a surrogate mother to thirty-five. at home, just glad to be there or on bed, getting ready for war in five hours' time.

so much for the creativity of life.

but I'm not complaining. God has a way of infusing into what seemed like mundane routines teachable moments, and they never fail to excite, humble and impart revelations.

to illustrate case-in-point, I walked into class one day expecting the usual. besides the fact that this class has the supernatural ability to cause internal haemorrhages (in me) at times, they are lovable and never fail to make me want to be a better teacher, to them and for myself.

among them is a boy whom I believe (at times when I'm seething mad) God put on earth for a specific purpose--to test the patience of mortals and saints alike. without him, the class is picture perfect. with him, it is akin to splashing red on Van Gogh's Starry Starry Night. in short, he is every teacher's starry nightMARE.

to cut the long story short, something transpired and it led to a confrontation between  him and me. it ended off with some fistfights, blood and call for revenge.






ok, no not really. but at least it looked to me like that. the truth is, it ended in strings of antagonistic challenges and a spit-- a heroic display of mock fearlessness and bravado.

to say that I wasn't affected would be a continental lie. afterall, I always assumed I had total control and leadership of the class. no feat could intimidate me, and I could silence the class with just one cold stare. I hated to think how the class would view me now. so Miss Tey's guts are really proportional to her size. ha.

as I cried myself silly in the secrecy and quiet of my cubicle, I began to think that God wouldn't allow such an atrocity to happen for no reason. and as quickly as that thought came, so was the certainty of hearing God's voice known.

whatever happened was not to humiliate, but to humble. unbeknownst to me, I had built for myself a tower of pride, a hubris that, if not treated, would mutate into a malignant tumour in my spiritual body. if I want to give God full ownership of my life, nothing cannot be excluded. there needs to be a timely reminder that God is King, of my life, of my relationships, of my classroom.


and what better way to be reminded than to get spat at.


no matter what happens, I know with certainty that wherever God leads, surely His provision is in the package. everyday I count on His still, gentle voice to get me through. everyday I look out for His 'just because' messages. everyday I tell Him I need Him everyday for the rest of my life.


thank you Lord, for weathering the storm with me, and for me.

Knowing Even in the Unknown

as I look back at 2009, I do so with gratitude and humility.

my lens is tinted with surprise- surprised that I am regarded as significant, that I am even considered in the first place. I mean let's face it, if I open my closet for sunning, the light might not even reach the crevices of those shame and woe. it's skeletons that prefer to remain hushed behind closed doors; it's a muted silence that thrives on its own iron curtain.

who would be interested in this dead air?

I guess God is, because these don't kill the fact that He can make water into wine, that He can retrieve a pearl from an oyster, and that 2009 was a special year to me. I misintepreted His silence as abandonment, when all the while He was paving the path back to His arms.

just as there is a time for the snow to fall and the flowers to bloom, so is there a season for the events that transpire in one's life. I was convinced that my life has reached the ruts, and no one in the right mind would want to dirty his hands trying to get me out.

but I suppose God is in the business of recycling (using thrash) and renewing (turning thrash to treasure). so much has been done to cake my spiritual being with dirt that I thought trying to get back would be a continental waste of energy. but I came to realise that my God is above all impossibilities, and there is no expiry date to His love for me. it does not stagnate, for they are new every morning. it is not conditional, for there is nothing I can do to earn it.

2009 started as particularly unspectacular. if anything, it was fraught with fear about the uncertainty of future and fulfillment of mammoth expectations. but luckily it is not how we start the run, but how we end the race that matters. as I end the year, I am certain that there are now two pairs of feet standing at the threshold, ready to make the leap. I don't know where God would take me, but I know He would paint the skies for me, I know He would wipe away my tears, I know He would go all out to make sure I sleep safe at night.

and I know it's going to be an adventure of a lifetime.

thank you Lord for making me a work in progress. thank you Lord for being my giant-slayer.

Holiday With the King

many times I've monumentalized my trips as the 'IT' holiday--Bangkok 2005, States 2006, Korea 2007-8--and as each usurped the other for the jetsetter title, I begin to believe the titleship's cast in stone: nothing in my wildest imagination can beat the fun I've had in Korea. besides, it was with my first love, and that totally took the cake.

but I guess I've inflated their value, because just this December, I've had the trip of a lifetime, and it effortlessly trumped all holidays I ever had, as easily as a twitch of a pinkie. wasn't with my first love, I hear you say. well, nothing is closer to the truth, because this time, this was with my true Love.

I see God's fingerprints from the moment I touched down in HK till I boarded the plane in China. in a place fraught with danger and snares, in a world where your consequences are a derivation of your (reckless) actions, rightfully speaking, I should have been dead on the streets of China, or made a slave working in one of the Nike sweatshops. but I'm alive and well, and even arrived home with a baggage (no pun intended) 7kg overweight.

in retrospect, I marvel at God's faithfulness and grace, when He led me through humanly-impossible circumstances. I stand amazed at the abundance of His extravagant goodness, when He speaks His gentle promises of truth into my heart. I bow in humility, when I realise how much I need Him, when I am nothing in and of myself.

all those times I was gallivanting down the streets of Hongkong, I've had good Samaritans planted all over the island, coating their actions with kindness and grace. in the past when I didn't know better, I would have attributed it to my irresistable charm [cue to puke]. now that I better utilise my brain, I know it's because my Father was working overtime to keep me safe, and to make sure I was treated like royalty.

to have the King of the Universe be my chaperon is like having Brad Pitt bring you to prom--except mine is realisable while the latter is totally fictitious, meaningless and of no significant value. each time I look back on the events leading up to my comeback, I can't help but stop in my tracks, and just give all thanks and glory back to my Father.


my Father, whose name is Emmanuel. 

I lift up my eyes to the hills,

where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip- he who watches over you

will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep. 

Psalms 121: 1-4

Apple of the Eye

december always holds a special place in my heart.

not only because it is my birth month, but also because it's Jesus's, and everyone's always a little happier, a little more (for)giving, and just that little more cheery.

I used to have galactic dreams for my birthday. princess parties, continental surprises and the works. but my family has never been big on birthdays, which also meant the icing on my cake was nothing but disappointment. I dreamt big, fell hard and never failed to wet the sheets with angry tears.

and I guess that's how I overlooked the gifts sitting on my table, and how much they meant if only I allowed the scales to come off my eyes. the Chinese scrawlings on the red packets telling me how much they wished I was happy, the presents that told how greatly I was loved, and the notes which said the same story every year. how could I not have seen?


so even though this one present is a joint effort of three people, I don't mind.

apple-d!

I'll be one year older in one week's time, and along with the digital Apple I'm already given, I pray for the gift of wisdom, discernment and accompaniment of the Holy Spirit all the days of my life.

along the way, I pray I'll also be a gift to others who cross my path.

A Letter to God

dear Lord Jesus,

my walk with You certainly hasn't been one in the park.

if anything, it's like fighting a different battle everyday. many times I found myself overwhelmed by the amount of baggage I need to unload and the many areas of my life that need ironing out. I feel like a patchwork quilt unraveling at the seams, only because You're unpicking them, and it hurts.

head knowledge tells me that I will be safe in Your arms, and in good faith, to surrender all circumstances to You. but when life strikes me at the hardest places, even this mustard seed of faith ceases to exist for me, and I go in search of comfort and affirmation, more often than not in the wrong places.


either I am suffering from spiritual amnesia, or I am choosing to deny the truth. the crave for human approval is different from the need for human approval. in reality, I do not need anyone to give me the green light, or to  affirm my existence. I need not fear them, for You have created all of us, and I have You on my side. because You go before me in all circumstances, my enemies are struck down before I even have the chance to lay eyes on them. because of that, the battle is already won before I can fight it.

dear Lord, You have never promised me that the Christian faith will be a bed of roses. but what You've promised is your everlasting faithfulness, and the assurance that You will never leave nor abandon me when I need You the most.

engrave that not just in my head, but on my heart Lord. keep my eyes peeled on You, and help me not lose focus, as I am wont to do. I want to walk with you, not just in the good, but in the strife. whenever I forget, nudge me into memory: that You've never ever let go, once.

allow me to trust You no matter what life throws me, no matter how big Goliath might seem, no matter how tall the mountain in front of me stands.

for God You see all things. let me let You be You.

in Jesus's name,
amen.

A Date to Remember

21st November 2009:

Breaking promises made

22nd November 2009 -  22nd November 2010:

Honouring the covenant passed

To You Who Holds the Sling

there was a period where I remained single for three months. it was such a remarkable feat I felt like I moved mountains and calmed the stormy seas. in short, I performed a miracle just by virtue of being alone.

but to say I was single then wouldn't be accurate either. I was oscillating between guys and experimenting heavily with the concept of trial-and-error. if there were good vibes (a muddy theory resting on unsound principles), we could latch on to greater possibilities. if there wasn't, then it's time to say goodbye and hello to someone else.

it's like shopping. you spend your time and spare your kisses, and you'll get rebates like free dinner and car rides. if you don't like what you've purchased, you can walk out of it.

the magic? no committment. and you feel good.


the tragedy? no committment. and you realised that what you felt was counterfeit.

whether they were noncommittal or not, these tryouts ultimately fulfilled the same objective: to try fill the black hole in your heart. judging by how often I fell in and out of relationships, I should have VIP status in this arena. I naively believed I could vaccinate myself against loneliness if there was someone at my beck and call. if I had someone to whine to. if I had programmes lined up on weekends, even if they were by default and predictable.

with that I was never single for seven years. buffer period between one relationship to the next was frowned upon. all these, and due credit should be given to my warped thinking.

which is why Pastor's advice to remain single for the next one year as a covenant to God came across as a Herculean challenge. what he laid on the table was to him a proposition. what I saw, however, was a Goliath-- but this time a fully armoured one.

what would my defense be? my less-than-glorious background? my fledging spiritual walk? or my sparse knowledge of the Bible?

questions were barraging me on all fronts. ultimately, however, I realised that I have the best army support equivalent to a spiritual SWAT team. my God is mightier and bigger than any and many foes combined. He watches my back, checks my blind spots and destroys my enemies, and all He asks is that I put on my blinkers and follow His guidance faithfully, to trust that He is smarter than I am and will ultimately pull me through whatever He's presented me with. my job is to move in the commands of the General, even if I cannot see the total landscape of His plan.

with that, I made the promise, and pray that I will rely on Jesus in all circumstances, because I recognize I am a fortress made not of brick, but of clay and sand. that I can be so vulnerable and weak at times. that I might lose sight of my first intention. but I can be made strong, and all I need is but one stone to take this Goliath down, and God will be in charge of the sling. 


so thank You Lord, for giving me the privilege to honour this covenant, to sit by Your feet, to take up the cross, and to follow wherever you go.

What Doesn't Make Cents Isn't Always Wrong

when Tweetybird told me that she has a lot of financial committments-unlike me-of which included tithing, I smirked.

a quick mental calculation tells me that 10% of my income could buy me a lifetime membership with a spa resort, and with the leftover still purchase for myself a comfy pair of Muji pumps. should I wish to yield more with less, I could visit my favourite boutique and pick fifteen different dresses, and have change enough to buy me lunch at a mid-range restaurant.

the bottomline is this: you cash in, you take out. but surrendering 10% of your hard-earned money to something you can't even behold in your hands?

seriously.

it's like putting rice in a sack with holes. if that's not foolish, I'm not Pei. deep down, I knew (thought?) I had the last laugh.

but on the day my God decided to draw his one lost sheep back with His staff, He did not stop to calculate the loss He would incur if the neglected and obedient sheeps decide to run away. when He got nailed to the cross, He did stop a second to think if I would be a good investment.

when God placed upon me the conviction/challenge to give, I didn't jump at it and cry OH YEAAAAAH! instead, I went into a bout of doubt. maybe I didn't hear things right. maybe the lack of sleep got the better of me. God definitely wouldn't do this to me.

yet in light of all that He's done for me, my 10, 20 or even 100% is but pittance. do I seriously think God cares for my money if He is already a God of everything? who am I to feel so self-righteous if all I've ever given were the loose change from my pockets? that God still watches my back despite and in spite of my moral delusions, I should be grateful.

it certainly doesn't make much (economical) sense, but when you understand you're merely returning a tiny portion of what God has given you, the pieces all come together.

afterall, when you know that you're playing host to a king, you don't eat the bread and save the crumbs.

Lost and Found

I'm, of course, not your most devout Christian. I don't do church, I don't stop people in their tracks proclaiming divine interventions and miracles, and least of all, I don't mutter thanksgivings to a higher being whenever something good materializes.

in short, I'm just your average (worldly and materialistic) woman next door.

however, in a past long gone, I was once all these things. but came questioning and cynicism, and my faith ceased to exist.

because I guarded my independence so fiercely, I had always (mis?)interpreted my spirirtual dormancy all these years as freedom. I cherished the fact that I could come and go as I please, and that I could chew on questions thrown at me without turning them over to some alien entity whom I can't even have conversation with over coffee.

but life has a way of reverting you back to old belief systems. the people you meet, the struggles you experience and the endless questions that wreck your sleep every night-- they all tell the same story: your heart is a donut. that, all along, you've been wading into deeper waters thinking a little farther wouldn't hurt. wading, until you realize you no longer see the shore when you turn back, and wish desperately that someone would notice your struggle and throw you a life buoy.

all these years of self-validation and foolhardiness have reduced me to a sorry combination of fatigue and emptiness. in retrospect, I had been walking on a tightrope of happiness that threatened to tip anytime I was not careful. in short, I was on my own, answering questions with questions.

if I come clean with myself, I can only say I've built for myself a spiritual warehouse of emotional junk. the skeletons in my closet were threatening to show, and I finally admitted to myself that I've had enough of rationalizing God, His miracles and a faith which required not understanding, but obedience.

I once read somewhere that human beings have the tendency of  overrating our intelligence, using logic to explain God's love for us, a love which no words could fittingly describe. the author then continue to say that if we are smart, then we should be smart enough to know that God is smarter.

so with that mustard seed of faith, I suspend all logic and return to the Shepherd who willingly abandoned His 99 sheeps in search of me. for someone like me, I must say, by my books, that that is the ultimate expression of love.

(picture credits: Cartoonstock)