Thursday, April 28, 2005

:: Grace vs. Ungrace ::

i think reading the book "What's So Amazing About Grace" couldn't come at a time more right than now. now, ungrace seems so rampant, so real. they've always been around, but now there's a name to it, and that's ungrace.

"it's a dog-eat-dog world out there, not dog-forgive-dog.", Philip Yancey writes.

we're surrounded by ungrace because we were brought up amongst it. parents, teachers, friends who teach us about justice, about fairness, about tit-for-tat, about retaliation, revenge, retribution, punishment, credit.... things that makes grace seem like such an unnatural response to have, such an unorthodox thing to exercise.... such a difficult thing to give away.

dad bought durians home today. lots of it. (5 styrofoam boxes in all) mum told me that she doesn't want to eat it, and i started throwing a small tantrum because i was thinking "what's her freakin' problem. it's just durians."

she started crying.. told me some harsh things like "you won't know how i feel. i will never forgive him forever." and stormed off. i had to apologise. i've been quick to apologise these days because to hold it back is a form of pride. yesterday i apologised to a pri 3 kid, and today i apologise to my mum. no matter how old is the victim of your unintentional verbal abuse, it's always okay to admit that you're wrong.

to me, it was just a box of durians. that's what i tried to tell myself. the durians are innocent, why not just eat them? if my bro, dad and myself won't be able to finish them before they rot, that would be very wasteful.

our family stands on shaky ground. grace is something you would hardly find here at home. no, not home... house. i don't expect my mum to smile and pretend nothing has happened when an unfaithful spouse is trotting around the house, buying durians, trying to appease us for his mistakes. damage done, heart scarred.. but.. unforgivable? hardly.

i wish i wasn't the only one at home who knows what the grace of God entails. i wish i could share it without my parents looking at me like i grew horns. it's such a foreign, strange, remote topic to people who have not been touched by the Spirit. the grace i give off at home at the expense of my emotions is probably passed off as ignorance. i'm the only one at home now who is still nice to everybody. the mediator. the stable-headed. the emotional balance of my 3 other family members largely rests on my shoulders. i can't afford to flare up. i'm the only sane person left.

but yet i know i have God on my side. He knows everything that i am going through and He won't let me give in without a fight. i am surprised by how good-tempered i actually am, but sometimes these suppressed emotions cannot be bottled-up forever. the occasional slip is infectious. how i wish i could just lash out at my dad when i let anger get the better of me. the betrayal, the lies, the abandonment, the cowardice.. i thank God that i've been saved from the wrath of bitterness that could have sprouted too easily. but grace doesn't allow for such actions. grace forgives, and speaks not of fairness, but of unconditional love. in the realm of ungrace, some people deserve more than others; in the realm of grace the word deserve doesn't even apply. how should i convey the message of grace to everyone around me who hasn't heard of or experienced it....? if i talked about it.. would you listen?

how could my mum find the courage to dispense grace in her betrayed heart? how will my dad ever find the heart the accept a gift that he never deserved.... grace could have reconciled, but until then, we have to keep spreading this wonderful message of grace... a message that the world so desperately needs to know.

keep smiling. my name is Jean - God is gracious. Image hosted by Photobucket.com

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11:51 AM

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

:: The Prodigal Son ::

michell mentioned in her blog that she didn't remember the story of the Prodigal Son at sunday school. for me, although having remembered it, the story never left a deep impression because i failed to grasp what it meant in the past. today, the story made me cry. here's a selective-exerpt from Philip Yancey's book "What's So Amazing About Grace?" as he takes us through his modern transposition of this well-known parable.

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Ayoung girl grows up on a cherry orchard just above Traverse City, Michigan. Her parents, a bit old-fashioned, tend to overreact to her nose ring, the music she listens to, and the length of her skirts. They ground her a few times, and she seethes inside. "I hate you!" she screams at her father when he knocks on the door of her room after an argument, and that night she acts on a plan she has mentally rehearsed scores of times. She runs away.

She has visited Detroit only once before, on a bus trip with her church youth group to watch the Tigers play. Because newspapers in Traverse City report in lurid detail the gangs, the drugs, and the violence in downtown Detroit, she concludes that is probably the last place her parents will look for her. California, maybe, or Florida, but not Detroit.

Her second day there she meets a man who drives the biggest car she's ever seen. He offers her a ride, buys her lunch, arranges a place for her to stay. He gives her some pills that make her feel better than she's ever felt before. She was right all along, she decides: her parents were keeping her from all the fun.

The good life continues for a month, two months, a year. The man with the big car - she calls him "Boss" - teaches her a few things that men like. Since she's underage, men pay a premium for her. She lives in a penthouse, and orders room service whenever she wants. Occasionally she thinks about the folks back home, but their lives now seem so boring and provincial that she can hardly believe she grew up there.

She has a brief scare when she sees her picture printed out on the back of a milk carton with the headline "Have you seen this child?"But by now she has blond hair, and with all the makeup and body-piercing jewelry she wears, nobody would mistake her for a child. Besides, most of her friends are runaways, and nobody squeals in Detroit.

After a year the first sallow signs of illness appear, and it amazes her how fast the boss turns mean. "These days, we can't mess around," he growls, and before she knows it she's out on the street without a penny to her name. She still turns a couple of tricks a night, but they don't pay much, and all the money goes to support her habit. When winter blows in she finds herself sleeping on metal grates outside the big department stores. "Sleeping" is the wrong word - a teenager girl at night in downtown Detroit can never relax her guard. Dark bands circle her eyes. Her cough worsens.

One night as she lies awake listening for footsteps, all of a sudden everything about her life looks different. She no longer feels like a woman of the world. She feels like a little girl, lost in a cold and frightening city. She begins to whimper. Her pockets are empty and she's hungry. She needs a fix. She pulls her legs tight underneath her and shivers under the newspapers she's piled atop her coat. Something jolts a synapse of memory and a single image fills her mind: of May in Traverse City, when a million cherry trees bloom at once, with her golden retriever dashing through the rows and rows of blossomy trees in chase of a tennis ball.

God, why did I leave, she says to herself, and pain stabs at her heart. My dog back home eats better than I do now. She's sobbing, and she knows in a flash that more than anything else in the world she wants to go home.

Three straight phone calls, three straight connections with the answering machine. She hangs up without leaving a message the first two times, but the third time she says, "Dad, Mom, it's me. I was wondering about maybe coming home. I'm catching a bus up your way, and it'll get there about midnight tomorrow. If you're not there, well, I guess I'll just stay on the bus until it hits Canada."

It takes about seven hours for a bus to make all the stops between Detroit and Traverse City, and during that time she realizes the flaws in her plan. What if her parents are out of town and miss the message? Shouldn't she have waited another day or so until she could talk to them? And even if they are home, they probably wrote her off as dead long ago. She should have given them some time to overcome the shock.

Her thoughts bounce back and forth between those worries and the speech she is preparing for her father. "Dad, I'm sorry. I know I was wrong. It's not your fault; it's all mine. Dad, can you forgive me?" She says the words over and over, her throat tightening even as she rehearses them. She hasn't apologized to anyone in years.

The bus has been driving with lights on since Bay City. Tiny snowflakes hit the pavement rubbed worn by thousands of tires, and the asphalt steams. She's forgotten how dark it gets at night out here. A deer darts across the road and the bus swerves. Every so often, a billboard. A sign posting the mileage to Traverse City. Oh, God.

When the bus finally rolls into the station, its air brakes hissing in protest, the driver announces in a crackly voice over the microphone, "Fifteen minutes, folks. That's all we have here." Fifteen minutes to decide her life. She checks herself in a compact mirror, smoothes her hair, and licks the lipstick off her teeth. She looks at the tobacco stains on her fingertips, and wonders if her parents will notice. If they're there.

She walks into the terminal not knowing what to expect. Not one of the thousand scenes that have played out in her mind prepare her for what she sees. There, in the concrete-walls-and-plastic-chairs bus terminal in Traverse City, Michigan, stands a group of forty brothers and sisters and great-aunts and uncles and cousins and a grandmother and great-grandmother to boot. They're all wearing goofy party hats and blowing noise-makers, and taped across the entire wall of the terminal is a computer-generated banner that reads "Welcome home!"

Out of the crowd of well-wishers breaks her Dad. She stares out through the tears quivering in her eyes like hot mercury and begins the memorized speech, "Dad, I'm sorry. I know..."

He interrupts her. "Hush, child. We've got no time for that. No time for apologies. You'll be late for the party. A banquet's waiting for you at home."

8:51 AM

Monday, April 25, 2005

:: Sights and sounds on an SBS Bus.. ::

took bus 22 to my aunt's place in serangoon today.. it was a pretty long ride that lasted about 45 mins.. Image hosted by Photobucket.com

the ride started off pretty pleasant. the driver drove very speedily and the prospect of a shortened ride pleased me to no end.

then somewhere in bedok, a TROOP of aunties and one uncle boarded the bus, with a kid in tow.

HAIYOHHHHH. Image hosted by Photobucket.com

then this auntie who had boarded at an earlier stop began shifting out of her seat and plonked her ass in the middle. she kept popping her head out to look for her auntie friend and beckoned LOUDLY for her to come over to sit cos she had chopped the precious space for her. the excited aunties, like kids on a school excursion, began chatting in ff volume without a care in the world.

they had two other auntie friends sitting two rows behind them, with an elderly couple (civilised) in between. these 2 rows of aunties began a conversation also at ff, passing biscuits all over the place. the uncle looked around frantically because he had no seat. den the auntie helped him look around. seriously, he seemed quite fit and wasn't that old. probably in his fifties. i only gave up my seat to an ah ma who boarded at the stop after. by then, the uncle had wedged himself into the middle seat in the back row. (the seat where the bus jerks and you may very well roll down the aisle and ram into the red coin-collecting thing.)

the kid also ran all over the place, changing places twice between every stop. he settled himself next to one of the aunties and was engrossed in his gameboy advanced game. he started to repeatedly lean forwards and backwards, like mr bean.

when they alighted soon after, the bus was quiet again. some remaining passengers on the bus exchanged amused looks, or expressions of disdain. i didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Brother The Oblivious had been engrossed in his mp3s throughout the journey, but i think the ff conversations managed to seep in on top of the rather loud music.

the things you see when on public transport............... Image hosted by Photobucket.com

2:25 PM

Sunday, April 24, 2005

:: Fei Yu Qing ::

yay! finally got to play mahjong after so long... satisfied my craving FOR THE TAHM BEING. Image hosted by Photobucket.com

was watching Fei Yu Qing De Qing Yin Yue (his show la..). every episode he will inwite one singer to the show to sing songs.. and in each show he will also have a solo item, or have a duet with the guest singer..

i tell you ah.. this fei yu qing.. every episode wear the same clothes, comb the same hair, use the same singing style, give that same face.. and he can pull off a song from just about any singer. old one, young one, male one, female one (his forte actually). i can't stand it. every time he starts singing he will root himself to the ground, doesn't walk, and switches to this very kiam pak expression:

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

like he sees imaginary clouds that are otherwise invisible to other people, and had a facelift gone wrong.

but alas, his falsetto is unbeatable.

1:15 PM

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Your Beauty liesin Plain Sight. Plain, simple and the girl nextdoor. People tend overlook you as you are the
"normal girl", but you're actuallyvery beautiful. And you have plenty about you to
set you apart, but more thatlets you blend. People love the stability you have
because as others may comeand go, you will always be there and you may always
be the same. You like simplethings and that's what people like about you. You
most likely enjoy things mostconsider normal, like movies, shopping, that sort
of thing and are very friendlyand probably have many friends. You are sweet and
kind and that shows on you,but you're also strong and not very naive. You're a
rather well-roundedindividual. Even though some people pass you off as
just another girl, shrug itoff because they don't know what they're
missing.

Some ThingsThat Represent You:

Element:Earth, Light Animal: Cat Color:
Pinks, Blues, Browns Song:Girl Next Door by Pilot Expression: Simple
Smile

Gemstone:Alexandrite Mythological Creature: Fox
Demon, Hobbit Planet: Jupiter Hair
Color: Light Brown Eye Color:Brown

Quote:"To the world you may be one person, but to
one person you may be the world."

Where Does Your Beauty Lie? ..::Original Pictures Are Back! Detailed Results::..
brought to you by Quizilla

argh stupid test! i'm am not a hobbit ok!! not to mention the cheesy quote....

but hor.....

the rest of it is quite true leh....

GAHHHH WHO ARE THEY TO JUDGE.... Image hosted by Photobucket.com

12:48 PM

Friday, April 22, 2005

*updated eager4heaven*

:: Cute ::

very into cute jap sites lately.. those japanese are really good at graphic and character design! they have this huuuge sozai community where they actually vote and rank the sites in various categories..

as a result i discovered many cute little icons i can now put on my blog! Image hosted by Photobucket.com

hahahahaha.

just a quick shout-out...... sorry for the delay..

HAPPY B'DAY TIFFA!!! Image hosted by Photobucket.com

2:17 AM

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

:: Shoes.. ::

been buying many pairs of shoes these days.. first was a new pair of slippers (shoe A). the first time i wore it, it gave me 5 blisters.

after that at Bata, i bought a pair of flats (shoe B) cos the soles were so soft and the shoe was oh-so-comfy. unfortunately because it's new, i kena abrasion at the area just an inch or two above the heel.

front pain, back also pain..

went shoe-hunting with my mum at bugis yesterday. saw shoe A and felt very pissed off. this guy picked up shoe A and showed his gf: "this one how?" den mum murmured under her breath: "don't buy it! don't buy it!" and asked me to show the lady my feet so that she won't buy. luckily the lady complained that it wasn't comfortable. what was i thinking when i bought it anyway..

now i finally bought a decent pair of slippers. (shoe C) i haven't put it to the test by going long-D yet but i think it will be sturdy enough. that's what i tell myself everytime i buy shoe and it's not always correct. esp these days with shoes A and B. hopefully shoe C won't let me down..

they say that after you buy new shoes you must bite it so that it won't bite you. others tell you to slam it against the floor, while some weird ones said that you cannot put the new shoe on a tabletop after bringing it home. so weird one. gross leh, bite slipper. must have listerine on standby.

oh yes.. one more thing..

HAPPY B'DAY LYDEAAA!! *muackz*

9:47 AM

Saturday, April 16, 2005

:: A touching tale.. ::

In a tribe of Indians, someone was stealing chickens. The chief declared that, if caught, the offender would receive 10 lashes. When the stealing continued, he raised it to 20 lashes. Still the chickens methodically disappeared. In anger the chief raised the sentence to 100 lashes - a sure sentence of death.

The thief was finally caught. But the chief faced a terrible dilemma. The thief was his own mother!

When the day of penalty came, the whole tribe gathered. Would the chief's love override his justice? The crowd gasped when he ordered his mother to be tied to the whipping post. The chief removed his shirt, revealing his powerful stature, and took the whip in hand. But instead of raising it to strike the first blow, he handed it to a strong, young brave at his side.

Slowly the chief walked over to his mother and wrapped his massive arms around her in an engulfing embrace. Then he ordered the brave to give him the 100 lashes.

dear friends, this is more than just a touching tale. some of you might have read it, some of you might have guessed what the story symbolises. the first time i read it, it brought tears to my eyes.

because that's what Jesus did for us. in love He became our substitute who died in our place. He overcame our inability to save ourselves by paying the price for our sins. Christ's death solved the dilemma between God's love and His justice.

you and i may think we've been good people, and we didn't steal chickens. the truth is, all of us have sinned in this life. we've gossiped about people, lied to our friends, ignored the needy and maybe even did things that we never knew were wrong. living on like this is a sure way to death indeed.

lidat ah.... den how?

first we must accept the fact that we cannot save ourselves, and understand that we don't have to, because the Lord has already paid for the stolen chickens. the 100 lashes have been given to Him 2005-33=1972 years ago. since then, believers who once stole chickens knew their faults, but were pardoned from their misconduct.

here's what others and myself have to say to those who haven't received.. "i once stole chickens shamelessly, but since i saw what a noble thing Chief did, i tried to suppress the urge to steal anymore chickens. i can't say that i don't steal anymore, but even if i stumble and give in to temptation, i know that i will no longer be punished for it... all thanks to Chief."

you don't have to live with this emptiness and guilt forever, nor wonder about what's going to happen to us after we die. you can't safely and confidently say "i have done no wrong.", but let the One who can, tell you "you have been wrong but I won't hold it against you because you have acknowledged Me."

8:18 AM

Friday, April 15, 2005

*updated eager4heaven*

when you're unemployed and see the computer unoccupied, you...

in a dory song: just keep blogging.... just keep blogging... just keep blogging blogging blogging....

even if it's just a few lines with no significance whatsoever. RE: this post.

BUT.

But...

but but but but but...

butbutbutbutbutbutbutbutbut.....

I GOT ACCEPTED BY SMUUUUU.

yay. =)

2:39 PM

Thursday, April 14, 2005

:: 4 Down, 1 to Go.. ::

last sunday i wore a new pair of slippers to church. i nearly didn't make it home because i had 5 blisters threatening to burst from all that friction. now i understand that blisters are very dangerous indeed, because they're capable of immobilising you.

now, 3 days later, all of them are 90% healed... well, all, except for one. the nasty little thing on my right foot's little toe has been inflammed, and seems to be oxidising happily with the 21% of O2 in the air. after much contemplation, i decided to take a close-up photo of this disgusting sight! scroll down to see! (you know you want to......)

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

gotcha.

anyway my blisters got me thinking about God. (yes even blisters remind me of God.) i thought about how He kept the Israelites' feet blister-free over the 40 years as they travelled through the desert, to the Promise Land. wasn't that thoughtful on His part? =)

but ironically, i must thank God for my blisters. now i know how important it is to choose comfort over design when it comes to buying shoes. i also thank God that despite giving me blisters, He helps me heal them too. see, He does have a purpose for everything that happens to us, even if it's to give us blisters. thank God for blisters! hahahhaa.

12:57 AM

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

:: A-maze-ingly narrow.. ::

val, lydea and i went out again today.. to (guess where..) BUGIS!

it's amazing how many things you can pack into a shop no bigger than a store room. i'm surprised none of the sales assts. there have died of suffocation yet. it's tough working there really.. because:

you must have very good sense of direction.
you must not be claustrophobic.
you must no have breathing problems cos the place is poorly ventilated.
you must be accustomed to boredom.

other than that, i guess it's a really good place to find good deals and bargains. should be worth it considering the things there are really alot cheaper than other places. shopping there is easy on the pocket. i like i like.. =)

i imagine i'd stop this shopping craze soon. i've been out these days because i'm not working.. hopefully my aunt will have a place at her office for me. this whole experience of coaching choirs has been amazing! it has ignited my interests in pursuing this career. although i doubt they'll see this.. many thanks to nita, flora, mr gooi tah choe, judith, mina and all the students for making these months very memorable.. yay! oh i also wanna thank all the bus drivers of buses 3, 168, 22 and 506 for taking me to all the schools. i sat in ur buses till my body assumed the shape of the seats, but i wanna thank you all nonetheless. SBS forever~

once a chorister, always a chorister. lol. so corny, but true.

last but not least....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUDAHHHH!!! *hugs*

10:12 AM

Saturday, April 09, 2005

:: Obscurity ::

i don't usually rave about what i bought when i go shopping, but i just had the urge to take a photo of my latest purchase:

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

quite cute hor? a round mickey bag.. i like the way the ears jut out.. and it's a good size.

ever gone shopping and unexpectedly find something you fancy? like it's love at first sight.. haha.. well it's one of those days for me. val, lydea and i were scouring the maze that was bugis village, and came upon this obscure area.. the shop was very simple, sold very random things with no particular theme, and i saw mickey hanging there looking dead. x_x

the shop was mended by a few aunties, and the bag just caught my eye. i pointed from afar, "val val! mickey bag! mickey bag!" she saw it and got excited too..

i cautiously apprached the gossiping aunties (i aspire to be one someday) and asked how much the x_x mickey was. $15. last piece. (haha.. everything is always the last piece.)

i thought it's a very fun-looking thing, and could add some zest to some of the more boring clothes i have, so i happily bought it. i could even transfer all my barang barangs plus the bag i brought into x_x mickey. spacious-ness! it's amazing how you can dig some unique deals from shops located in obscurity. that's the fun part of shopping. =p

lydea and val, getting into the shopping spirit, bought an mp3 player each at sim lim square (creative muvo N200). we chipped in for lydea's for her birthday. it's not everyday your friends jam $90 at your face. haha. talk about retail therapy.

i love bugis village. obscurityyyy. (and i'm disgusted that i just typed out a whole blog entry about a BAG. -_-)

1:03 PM

Friday, April 08, 2005

:: Mean, meaning, meaningful.. ::

i kapoh-ed the title from Seventeen magazine. i wrote in to them to try and get freebie rmb? they titled my letter as such. looking back, it's still a very embarrassing incident hahahaha.

went to woodlands pri to volunteer my services as a facilitator there.. working with the brats of the school. they were really a handful, but i see that they're not brats by nature. certain circumstances in their lives have caused them to behave this way.. most come from single-parent families, while others might not have received adequate parental attention..

the kids are just very bratty lah. they run around when you tell them to sit still, talk back at you, and have records of fighting, bullying, theft and even extortion in school. i really admire the people who help out in this program.. everyone can see that dealing with potential delinquents is a very puke-blood job to do, but these dedicated individuals sacrifice their time and daily comforts to help these kids who, at the moment, don't seem to give a hoot about what they're doing wrong in their lives. to be in this job is to learn to serve others.

in the bestseller "The Purpose Driven Life", author Rick Warren writes:

"The world defines greatness in terms of power, possessions, prestige, and position. If you can demand service from others, you've arrived. In our self-serving culture with its me-first mentality, acting like a servant is not a popular concept."

that's where true nobility lies. ironically, the greatest people on earth are those who are the least recognized, working to change the lives of those who are often neglected by society. society never had time to think about these people in the first place. human geography taught me that such social ills is one of the many costs of economic growth, and the truth couldn't be clearer.

of course i'm guilty of being self-centered, but i would try to make myself available to serve others, get out of my comfort zone and get involved with people who are less fortunate than myself.

i can easily find a job where i can sit all day in an air-con room, not having to come face to face with these difficult people. i can be a part of the corporate world, working to elevate my own status so that one day i can bark commands at my subordinates. i can put myself in an environment where i can believe that the lives of these people do not concern me. i can mope all day about what i do not have and earn money to pamper myself.

i can have a decent standard of living but yet i would be poorer than a happy farmer in rural china. because a rich person is not one who has the most, but one who needs the least.

12:02 PM

Thursday, April 07, 2005

:: Why lidat one? ::

HAIYOH. when i logged into friendster just now i saw funny coloured circles under the photos of my friends. green icons for "good day" and yellow icons for "so-so day". wondering what the heck it was, i clicked on it and some horoscope thing popped up.

i mean, it's interesting to read and all, but who are they to tell me how i will get along with my friends... i don't believe in such things one. horoscopes seem the have the implication that there are only 12 kinds of people in the world, and only 12 possible types of situations can happen to anybody at any day. worse still, all these rubbish are dictated by when you are born. -_- what if i find no similarities with another person who shares the same birthday as me?

so stupid.

6:10 AM