Mmmbop.
[Procrastinator's law: the frequency of posting is directly proportional to amount of study to be done before end of year exams]
Here's a confession that I can only make on a post because I could never admit to such shame in real life. I owned a Hanson album when I was in yr 9 (okay stop throwing those rotten-tomatoes!). Confessions part II: I'm listening to it again now.
I found it right at the bottom of my CD stack. There's such a simple joy that comes now as I hear this album. Just this huge feeling of remembering what it was like to be 14 again. I can almost feel the rising heat just like when I first listened to the album. And no, it wasn't cos I had the hots for Taylor (or was it Isaac? =Þ) but because the only CD player we had back then was in the study room, which faces west and is perennially 10 degrees hotter than the rest of the house.
It's weird that I so fondly reminsce now. I hated being 14 when I was 14. I always wished to be 16, 18, 21; to go out to the city with my friends, to get a job so I'd have money to get my own CD player in my room, to drive, to go to uni and meet really cool people and hang out in coffee shops all day. Now I have all of the above, but life doesn't feel particularly cool or exciting.
The biggest reason why I look back at the 'Hanson era' with such fondness is because it reminds me of school. Dissing Hanson with my schoolfriends. Hanging out in Room 16 that we adopted. Getting squished trying to get on the school bus, with the bus driver threatening to drive away if we didn't stop. Overpowering wafts of some new Impulse scent. Scraping enough money to get hot chips at the train station. Getting really excited about going to the city to watch a movie and taking a sticker photo. Going to school camps, staying up late eating junk food and talking about who likes who.
I guess when I was 14 dreaming about being 21 I didn't think about what I'd no longer have. And as the album finishes playing, leaving a prominent silence in my room, it conveys a sad thought that these times are but a memory now.
I wonder what I'll be feeling when I re-listen to the Black Eyed Peas album that's currently on high rotation in my CD player in 5 years time. What blessings I have now that I will only be able to reminsce later on because they will no longer be there.
As Hanson says (who woulda thought their songs meant anything?): In a Mmmbop they're gone...
Love is in the air (it must be spring)
This is going to sound dumb, but seeing my friends with their bfs, the ones with the really good relationships (from what I can observe anyway), really makes me smile. I think to myself, wow they're a really great couple, and it's so cool that God's arranged for these two people to meet, to fall in love. Plus you can practically sniff their happiness, it's that obvious. Little things like holding hands, knowing glances at each other.
Seeing my friends makes me believe in love, keeps me from being cynical. It's so easy to become cynical towards love, whether you're single or in a relationship. Seeing my friends with these great guys, I feel reassured that there are great guys out there. You can tell so much about a guy's character from the way they treat others. Every guy will treat their gf nicely, but the great ones, they're the ones who'll treat others with consideration and courtesy also. Even people they don't really know, like their gfs' friends (i.e. me). And that's when I know, my friend's onto one good thing, and he will really take care of her, treat her right.
To all my friends with great guys... I'm praying for you guys -- thanking God for His blessings and praying that He will continue to guide you(s).
To all my friends who don't have that blessing as yet -- let these lucky girls be our encouragement, rather than our source of envy/coveting/bitterness. You deserve nothing less than a guy who will treat me with respect, as well as you (as weird as that sounds).
See no evil, hear no evil.
I couldn't sleep last night. As hard as I tried to shut it out, I kept thinking about what I read that morning.
It was not difficult to find the web-video of the execution of US hostage Eugene Jack Armstrong on the Internet -- but it was almost impossible to watch... the Jordanian-born al-Zarqawi steps forward, knocks the quivering prisoner over and begins sawing at the neck with a large knife, knocking off his blindfold. The choked screaming made as the blade tears into Mr Armstrong's now blood-filled throat is horrifyingly audible.
[Daily Telegraph 23/9/04 p35]
This mental picture of blood-choked screaming tormented me all night. Even now when I think about it I get goosebumps and a sinking feeling in my stomach. I didn't even want to write about it cos I wanted to forget it; forget this scene in my head, forget about how there are many more hostages who are witnessing such atrocities now as I type, acted out on their friends, their neighbours. I just don't want to think about it; I just wanted to get a good night's sleep before the ward round this morning.
Isn't that awful? Terrible terrible things happen in this world, and our solution is denial. Don't think about it too much, cos it's too depressing. It is depressing, but pretending that it didn't happen, if anything I think it insults the victims of these crimes. A lot of people say, well why can yourself all upset about it when there is nothing you can do? I know what they are saying, but I don't agree. Surely apathy cannot be the solution to evil. If anything it probably condones evil, allows it to continue.
So I'm writing about it even though I feel sick now remembering it all again. I should feel sick, because it is a sickening act. You might feel sick reading this post, but I don't apologise. We need to pray and we need to care. We need to feel sick.
Concrete cracks.
I read an article in the SMH Good Weekend a few days ago. Actually I read it quite a few times. It was entitled:
"I don't want to die a virgin : Catherine von Ruhland is 40, single and Christian, and regards her life of abstinence as a 'tragic existence' "
I wish I could put a link to it so that you could read it and know what I'm talking about but sadly it's not anywhere on the newspaper's website. In the article she talks about how she feels like she's missing out; about her loneliness, her desire to experience intimacy. She feels resentment towards the church and its attitudes towards pre-marital sex, blaming that for why she is subjected to a life of abstinence. She laments that in patiently waiting for Mr Right in her twenties she missed out on being able to experience sex, and now that it looks like she's not ever going to marry, she wishes that she just went out and did it like everyone else.
This article caught me on a lot of levels. Firstly I have deepest sympathy for her; I hesitate to use the word empathy, for although I understand her melancholy in loneliness, I don't agree with her conclusions consequential to this feeling. One of my greatest fears is to have to spend life alone. Maybe I'll also end up being 40, single and a virgin, I don't know. I was saying the other day how it wasn't easy to walk around the shopping centre and see all these couples -- it must only get worse with age, when these couples begin to marry, have kids, make a family.
But my second thought was that of sorrow. It made me sad that as a result of her being alone, she seems to have become disillusioned, taking it out on her faith. It's as though, by intense focus and wariness of her deficiencies, she has forgotten what's really important.
"I have yet to find anyone with the guts to say that "if you don't find a spouse we expect you to die a virgin". Yet that is the flipside of the "no sex before marriage" mantra. And if it was made clear? Well, those of us who didn't want that would know where we stood and we could all consider our options."
She suggests that if she had known that she could possibly end up where she is now, single, 40 and a virgin, that she would not have chosen Christianity. In essence, she put the value having sex above that of a relationship with God. She'd rather have sex than to have God.
I hope I haven't come across as being judgmental or harsh on this lady, because that really isn't where I'm coming from. I guess from this article, it really got me thinking about the things in our life that can pull us away from God. Rather than looking ahead towards the finishing line in our marathon of life, we sometimes get caught up in focusing on the cracks in the concrete. Which is actually what I used to do when I was small, and explains the many scars I have on my knees. This lady's concrete crack was her loneliness. I don't think her going out to have sex would have solved her problems. She was craving love, and confusing sex with intimacy. Her protest at the church's stance on abstinence before marriage was really a cry of exasperation towards God for not providing her with someone all these years.
And as heartbreakingly real as loneliness, or rejection, or cancer, or anything else in this world may be, in the end it's just a concrete crack. It pales in significance to being loved by God.
"Our light afflictions, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory" - 2 Corinthians 4:17 NKJV
I hope that no matter what life throws at me that I will remember that it is "but for a moment". I may be lonely, oppressed or bedridden for 40, 50, 100 years, but it really is just a moment compared to the magnificence of eternity. Just a concrete crack in the path of life.
Unfading beauty.
I'd like to apologise to you now if I've ever interrupted you mid-sentence. Which is probably everyone I've ever encountered (sorry). I don't know why I interrupt people, but I know that I've been doing it ever since I could remember. But I have become more acutely aware of it lately, and I'm really trying to correct this particular flaw.
"Never pass up an opportunity to keep your mouth shut" - Elisabeth Elliot
"My dear brothers, take note of this: everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry" - James 1:19
"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." - 1 Peter 3:3-4 (emphasis mine)
"Deep rivers run low" - my mother, last week.
These are not quotes or verses that are new to me, I've probably heard them for a good part of my life. I always used to think that it was a bit of a crock -- this kinda 1950s chauvinistic thinking that women should be quiet. Especially given that I was raised in a feminist girls-get-out-there-and-break-some-glass-ceilings educational institution. But the more I ponder about this, the more I realise what 1 Peter is saying is true -- there is real beauty in a gentle and quiet spirit.
I read somewhere about how we have two ears and one mouth because we should listen twice as much as we talk. This is a very illuminating thought for a chatterbox like me. Lately I have been doing less talking, more observing, more listening. And yes, the people that I find attractive are the ones who don't take every available opportunity to speak. Like for example, in a tutorial: there are ppl who will answer every question before the consultant has even finished speaking. But I know that the person sitting quietly, he/she is just as smart, probably even knows more, but just quietly listens. He/she doesn't need to show off his/her knowledge. Deep rivers run low, as Mum says.
When I interrupt someone, what am I conveying? I've heard enough, here's my chance to say what *I* think. Yuck, that's so awful! Which is why I'm so so sorry.
So the next time you see me and I'm not as loud, you'll know what's going through my head. Hopefully, you'll be seeing a more beautiful me. The unfading kind that's of great worth in His sight.
Don't know what you got til it's...
Dad told me that at the moment our dams are running at 40%. At the beginning of this year they were around 60%. If it gets below 30%, we will only get water every second day.
Every second day?!? What about showers (esp with summer coming along)? What about washing dishes? What about flushing toilets?
I have enjoyed the privilege of instantly accessible running water my entire life. I remember at school, sometimes they had to switch off the water supply while the plumber was fixing things, and those 3 hours would be the worse 3 hours in the whole school term. I'd go to the toilet and things would be overflowing. Everything smelt awful. I'd turn on the tap without thought, place my hands under only to feel... nothing. Oh yeah that's right, the water's off.
How fortunate and spoilt we are. How much I've taken this life-essential gift for granted. I've never had to fetch for water, never had to buy it, never had to go without it. I've never considered life without a flowing tap.
Lord please let it rain, so that the drought will ease. I thank you that I've never had to go thirsty, and I pray for those who are parched right now.
The C word.
COMMITMENT: The state of being bound emotionally or intellectually to a course of action or to another person or persons: a deep commitment to liberal policies; a profound commitment to the family. [www.dictionary.com]
I've not been blogging lately because of workload etc, but this is something that's been gnawing at my mind for a while. I guess last night was a poignant trigger to the thoughts below. A friend of mine announced last night that he just broke up with his girlfriend. Now, prior to this, I had always thought he was a really sweet and caring bf, wanting to do stuff with her, take her to places, call her up often, etc. What struck me was how ok he was. He was so casual in mentioning it, and said that "yeah, things were just getting a little serious". There was so little attachment, and it was so easy for him to just let go.
Now to be fair, certainly he may be aching inside, he just didn't confide in me and guys don't talk about feelings much. Still, the whole incident really got to me. As he was shrugging his shoulders saying, "yeah it was good, but oh well", I was imagining his gf right now, at home, crying her eyes out. Not thinking straight. Not knowing what the hell happened that suddenly he feels it's all too much.
"First you run like a fool just to be at my side
And now you run like a fool but you just run to hide, and I can't abide"
- Fiona Apple in Sleep to Dream (from the album Tidal)
Why are guys so commitment-phobic?
What really twists my logic into a knot is how guys want gfs but without 'too much commitment'. To me that is the single strangest paradox I know. If you were emotionally bound to the person (see definition above), ie you truly loved them, then commitment should come naturally, out of will, right? Then why does being with that other person seem like a chore, or worse, like imprisonment? Why is commitment a dirty C word to guys, rather than an admirable attribute of a meaningful relationship?
"The joy of intimacy is the reward of commitment" - Joshua Harris in I Kissed Dating Goodbye
People (not just guys, but moreso) seem to want the closeness of having someone to call at night, sweet talk, cuddle, etc, without wanting to say that they will be still be there when times get tough. Sure bring on the intimacy, but when it comes to commitment? No, I'm too young for that. Josh Harris makes the point that intimacy is the icing, commitment is the cake. And lots of ppl just want to lick off the icing, without the hard work of baking a cake.
So much taking, so little giving. 'Now let's not get too serious here'.
I don't bear a grudge or negative feelings towards my friend because of his actions. I am only too aware that he represents a great number of guys out there who feel the same. But what gets me is that for every guy who is like this, there is a broken hearted girl who feels like she got the carpet pulled from under her feet. Who believed the guy when he said things like he loved her, wants to be with her forever, and all the other things ppl say when they are 'caught in the moment'. And the girl believes, even though the guy hasn't asked himself if he could really deliver when it comes to crunch time. All icing, no cake.
This is probably the most emotionally-charged post I've written so far. I would love for someone to prove me wrong. Nothing would make me happier.
The weakness of one.
"Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their work:
If one falls down,
his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls
and has no one to help him up!
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?" - Ecclesiastes 4:9-11
There are times when I walk about in the shopping centre that I notice the sheer amount of couples walking around. Holding hands. Two by two. Most of the time I think it's really sweet that people are together and are in love, but sometimes I can't help but notice my aloneness.
I'm ok with where I am at the moment, because honestly I feel like I'm growing so much more now than when I wasn't single. But I do occasionally get that tinge of blue in being alone, which I think it's natural. People were made for companionship. I'm ok with that because, at the end of the day, I know that this is a transient phase in my life which will pass, just as winter always morphs into spring.
But it makes me think about widows.
"Give proper recognition to those widows who are really in need." - 1 Timothy 5:3
In one's youth, we search for that perfect someone to spend a lifetime with. I think it is one of life's greatest joys, to find the one to 'do life with', with whom you share understanding, love, children, laughter. But unfortunately, things are not 'happily ever after' because, quite simply, that people don't live ever after. As joyful as it is to watch two people pledge a wedding vow, there is still that bit at the end: "til death do us part"; which reminds us that this union isn't forever.
And one will be left standing alone.
My heart really goes out to people who have lost their spouse. I honestly don't know how they could gather the strength to get out of bed -- when everything in the house, in their children, in everything, reminds them of the wonderful times they shared together, which is now but a memory. A few months back we had some oncology lectures, and a lady who lost her husband to cancer spoke to us about her and her husband's experiences of the hospital system. She didn't use fancy words or emotive sentiment, but when she finished, there was not a dry eye in the lecture theatre. My heart really sank low that day. I could go home to my family, my mum and dad, back to reality where things were all 'ok'. But for her, reality was this immense hollowing pain which was so palpable in the way she spoke, reminsced, cried.
One time on late-night radio, a woman called to dedicate a song to her late husband, who had passed away 9 months before. She told the announcer the story of how they met, how it came about that this song she wanted to be played became 'their song', how she cries every night looking at the empty side of their marital bed. I cried all the way home, driving through foggy tears. I didn't know this woman at all, but her sorrow really resonated with me.
People say that when one spouse dies, the other one often dies soon after from heartbreak. I'm sure they're right.
For me, being on my own is temporary. I pray for those who stand alone now, having known the love of their lives, whose loneliness is everyday, maybe for the rest of their lives. I pray that in their weakness, God will be strong.
