Letter to Father

Dear Father,

When I was around 14 or 15, it was the first time I got hurt emotionally.

I simply assume it was because I lack physical attractiveness.

I guess it Your heart broke too; You were sad I could think so negatively of myself.

Even though I've grown out of it now, the scar is still there and it still hurts when it is being rubbed. I cannot think that I am gorgeous. I do not look for compliments or anything, this is just me, what I feel and I am being raw with You.

Through out the years, I've learn to appreciate my own appearance. But things change, while I may have slowly recovered from this physical depression. This scar of mine continue to dig out a series of depressions for me to feel.

I love to tell You that I've dealt with my problems in a proper manner. But I did not.

As a form of method to comfort myself, I find solace in my position in the life of people around me.

I set my value as being this person's good friend, being this person's best friend, being this person's favourite. I threw my measurement of self worth in other people's hands. I can tell you this is never a wise decision, because once people declare you are not valued by them, you come crashing down.

But that was how it is when I have lost my identity and I don't know where to look for it.

A few weeks ago, I received a prayer. I was reluctant because I felt that, at the moment there is no problems in my life. I took prophetic prayer too lightly. The problem with me is that I think prophetic is only 'accurate' when it describe my current life situation, not true. It is also about my future.

It struck me now that it is exactly what I need, her prayer. She told me 'contentment'.

Be contented with who I am. What I have.

The only identity I need to know, is that I am YOUR beloved daughter. The only ruler I need in this universe is Your love.

I am sorry for not seeing that before. For saying I am not as good while You have already made me as You see fit. Sorry for hurting you, sorry for not going to You when I am suppose to.

I'm learning, Father. Day by day, to simply be happy to have You loving me.

Your beloved daughter,

Tam

Conversations with brother

I used to think that my brother is snobbish and ignorant. We used to be close, aeons back, when he was still a chubby thing. Then things shifted.

Adolescence shaped us into moody teenagers; where we would fight over internet time (we didn't had the luxury of wireless back then) and largely turned anti-social human beings; locking ourselves in our bedrooms, listening to indie music (for him) and pop punk (for me), while trying to avoid as much housework and nagging as possible.

Fortunately, because of the 4 year gap between me and him, I grew out of the emotional, my-life-is-so-tough-I-hate-everyone-in-this-family-my-crush-doesn't-even-know-I-exist-puberty-sucks-I-don't-understand-my-body-anymore teenager stage faster then him.

But during my last trip back home, I had a conversation with the brother.

This is something big, considering he is still a creature who prefers not to come out of his room, except to go online, eat, bathe and watch tv.

Darling brother and I had to go to the town to run some errands. He hates it.

The sun was scorching hot. It's those kind of dry penetrative heat; you can still feel the sun's flare on your clothed skin.

By the time we were paying bills for mom and getting groceries for myself, I was covered in cool sweat and ready to slump in the car.

Thank God my brother is driving and the mountain air was sweet and fresh.

Brother started conjuring a conversation. I guess it's odd because he doesn't just talk to me at home. But I was only happy he's talking instead of sulking. It was a half and hour car ride back home, so I guess talking is good.

He asked me if I've read the comic he bought, Sandman. He caught me reading his comics before. I saw he bought new ones the other day but he was like a tigress who just gave birth; he wouldn't like me touch them.  I took it from him and read them, after he was done being so protective over them. I told him I did. I liked it. I asked him what he thought of the Avengers, since he's not a big Marvel fan. He's a DC fan. I know my brother is a guy who has strong opinions and stick with them. So my next question got the ball rolling. It's been in my head for quite sometime, I asked him why he chose DC over Marvel. Sounds shallow, huh? But I know my bro reads up his picks before rooting for them. So he must have a solid reason for supporting what he choose.

I did not expect his answer. He just said it was because of the villains.

He said there's enough superhero stories out there that sells villains short. They make villains so shallow, as in, the only reason why the bad guys in the story are bad guys is for money and world domination. That's the main reason scrpit writers and story writers always sell.

He says that real, solid characters for the villains are people who are bad just because they are bad, and no other reason.

I was as lost as you when he told me that. Huh, but that's stupid, I said.

He said yeah, in his annoying tone, but I kept patience. Because I know he hasn't revealed all.

One thing I can credit my brother is that he has a curious mind. He Googles everything. The hours he spent reading up things baffles me. Every time I glance over to see what he's up to on the laptop, half a time it's a Wikipedia page.

He knows many things. He just keeps them all to himself.

He has grown, more of mentally then physically, he's just not as tall as I hope he would be.

It made me realise how much I've missed out on him growing up.

So anyway, brother quoted something that made me pause and think.

He quoted Alfred Pennyworth, Batman's butler, one of the characters in Batman comics created by Bill Finger. Brother quoted: 

Real bad guys just want to watch you burn. Real villains taunts the good guys to kill, even to the extent of killing the villains themselves. To prove that the good guys aren't so good themselves.

When he said that, bam! I suddenly understood.

There's only one real bad guy out there. One which I know of. The devil himself. He suits this description perfectly. He goes around like a prowling lion, looking for potential victims. Because he knows he's already doom to eternity, so while he's at it, he will drag as much souls with him.

We always thought our enemies are mare human beings. Or parties or groups of people. People who blackmail us, people who are mean to us, cold to us, people who wants to bring us down.

But guess what? The real villain is just hiding behind he scene. He's just using humans to make you forget he's there. 

I'm glad I had the conversation with brother. Though I didn't point out my realisation to him, he taught me a great deal about who our real enemies are. But there's nothing to fear, because if you know that the devil is real..

..rest assured that God's even more real.

Faith goes Kaput

What are the possibilities of a laptop working after being left in a bag with a leaking water bottle for over half an hour?

Let me tell you, it'll be dead. Kaput.
It will need to be sent back to the headquarters of the laptop company to be fixed.
This will mean you are not able to access the internet, unable to use your computer as a source of daily entertainment and worst of all, it will mean money must be spent on the fixing.

Any university and collage student will tell you that laptop is their life. It helps them connect to the big word out there, without leaving their seats, or house, for that matter. The main thing is, a student cannot afford losing the laptop.
And I almost did that today.

I did the unthinkable by putting my water bottle (which has a history of leaking) in the same bag as my laptop.
The intensity of how much my laptop is wet can be seen by the papers I put in the bag too. 1/3 of the papers are soaked. I can see through the papers. It's lifeless and delicate; able to be torn in half with just a stroke of wind.

No prizes for guessing if my laptop can still be switched on or not after that.

My heart sank to my foot when the laptop screen would not turn on, even though the ON button lights up. There's still no sign on life.
The lights would turn off after 20 seconds. I kept trying a few times, and the results are the same.

I'm beginning to think of the worst. I thought of going on weeks without a laptop, that idea caused depressing thoughts.
I begin to pray. Praying hard. Making promises to God. I kept building up my faith that He'll make this work. I kept pushing my faith. I kept believing harder and harder that this will work, God will answer my prayers.

But after half an hour, I stop focusing so hard on the laptop. I left my laptop ventilated by the bedside fan, and left to bathe.

I can't help but have that tinge of bitterness and disappointment in me the whole time. I had faith. So why didn't it work? Why wasn't my laptop cured? Didn't God say that if we ask, it will be given to us, according to His will? I was doing exactly that just now. What more should I do?!
I had faith! My faith was strong! I believed so much, it hurts. Because deep down I know it's pretty impossible to fix this mess I have myself in, yet I still foolishly believed God can cure it for me.
A voice inside me logically reasoned that I should seek professional help instead of having faith. Oh, that sounds good, but the thing is, I don't know how or where to seek professional help. My only source of professional help is in Kuantan- le uncle. It all seems like a foolish game I'm playing with God.

Now I'm back in my room. I stared at my otherwise normal looking laptop, sitting lifelessly on my bed. How much I wish it's not dead. How I wish I'm able to turn it on and go online this moment. But I know that's not going to happen just yet.

So I sulked. Turned on the TV, flipped through The Little Prince. Carelessly shifting my attention between the Korean drama going on TV2 and the tiny book in my hands. I glanced longingly at my red laptop.

As much as I am frustrated that 'having faith' did not work the first time, I know I shouldn't let it go just like that.
I closed my eyes and really prayed this time. No urgency. No quick prayer to make it happen. I just wanna talk to God.

It's funny what that does to you; when you just take a break form all the worries, and just draw near to God. Words come to my mind as I prayed. Words that I believe was from the Spirit, and not me, because He reminded me of what real faith is.
I've caught myself doing this before, and it happened again just now.
I was too desperate to 'have faith'.
To have real faith, is not an action to preform for God to see. I cannot believe 'really hard' and hope God sees it to grant what I prayed for. Hadn't He clearly say that it is by faith and not by works that we are all saved?
To have real faith, is knowing that God can do anything. And by anything, I mean ANYTHING. It's not because that I do not have enough faith that God doesn't answer my prayers. It's because I've been foucsing on myself, my own ability to have how much faith.. see my problem? It's pointing back to me again, not God's ability.
I have been using my faith as a benchmark, a 'work' for God to see. I thought if I focus really hard, and invested all my strength on my faith that God will revive my laptop, it will work.

But it doesn't work that way. I should never turn my faith into 'works'. If you understand me, let me continue.
Faith is not something we can force ourself into. Faith is not something you should feel uncomfortable having 'too much' or 'too little'.
If you feel that you're having too much faith on something that seems impossible to happen, that's not faith in God. That, my friends, is having faith in yourself.

It's a tricky thing. I'm not sure if you follow. But if you do, bravo. Don't fall for it ever.

So I made a prayer and laid hands on the red laptop. I said,
'I know You can do anything. Because You have already defeated death, sin and bondage. I know You have the power to revived this hopeless electronic device. I know You can do it. So if this is according to Your will, please, let my laptop be able to function again. I do not want to let it be sent to the office for repairs because I know You can do it for me. Amen.'

With that, I pressed the ON button. Blue lights comes on. But screen still stays black.
This time, there's a good feeling, because I know I'm focusing on the right thing, Jesus, not on how strong my faith is..
The blue lights suddenly turn off. My eyes were still glued to it. And suddenly the blue lights flicked on and off on and off for a good 4-5 times. The screen flicks to life and shows the name of my laptop brand.

I literately let out a sigh of relieve. But it's not really the end of the story. The screen stays black, it shows, 'Operating System cannot be detected'
Good thing I took IM last semester, I know Operating System is a short form for OS which means Windows 7 for my case. It also means the laptop is working but couldn't detect Windows 7.

This isn't good news, but at least there's responds form the screen instead of just the ON button.

I called Rox, but she wasn't home so I couldn't talk to her dad about this. It's a timely thing too, because I restart the laptop. While doing all that, I kept my source of faith and focus on Jesus. I know He has the power.
The second time the screen flickers on, everything was normal again. The windows sign pops up. Nothing was lagging. That's when I know how much I've misunderstood faith and how much I am loved.

Don't focus on how much energy and strength your believing can make it happen, do focus on how much He can really make it happen- that is effortless.
Now I understand why God says 'Even if you have faith as small as a mustard seed...'

because that's all it takes for it to happen.

Not huge gigantic coconut fruit/seed.

His feelings.

He knows I haven't spent much time with Him lately. He knows I haven't been trusting Him as much lately.
He knows..

... and it makes me unhappy because, deep down, I know it too. But you know how we always find ways comfort ourselves?
I wouldn't have thought it was anything terribly bad or wrong..
I told myself, I'm just drifting.. it's just a phase.. I'll get back on track.. no worries.. I've been there before.. I can live through this.. I don't mind..

It's funny how I never consider His feelings. It never struck me, until today, how much He minded. My King doesn't like the lesser and lesser time I made for Him. My Father doesn't like that I don't trust Him as much.
Selfish little brat.

When the words 'how can I keep from singing Your praise?' flashes across my eyes today, instinctively, I felt the need to cry.
Although at that moment, I do not know why.
I only know that deep down, I have been avoiding Him.
But why does those words, which have nothing to do with running away from Him, touch me?

It hit me. Because I have not been praising Him with a sincere heart lately.
I've been complaining, moody, unhappy, throwing tantrums at Him.

Then another line appears 'I know I'm loved by the King, and it makes my heart wants to sing'
That.
That, really broke me.
Why? Because I finally get what He's trying to tell me.
He's reminding me, He loves me. He's the King of the universe, for all the magnificent things He created, He choose to love me.
Even when I don't love Him back. Even when I throw accusations at Him, even when I am discontented with the life He puts me in, even through all that, He still loves me.
King of the universe, loves me. And it won't change. It will never change.

That made tears pour out. That made me sob. That broke me down.

I am overwhelmed by His gracious love. I cannot understand, how much love He has in store for me. Or how much He will continue to give.
When I look at myself, all I see is my flaws. All I see is how much I don't add up. How much I lack.

That's why I sobbed. It's the 21 years of gratitude and gratefulness whelmed up in response to His love. It's stupid I know, but it's what I could manage at that time.

I may never truly understand You, I'm ok with that now, I just need to know You have feelings too...

and You feel that You love me.

The Struggle

I'm a curious person.

Ever since young, my favourite question is 'why?'
Maybe because things around me always seem so strange as I was growing up.
As a kid, I never thought I'd understand politics, or how bank accounts work, or understand how my then collage aunt does her assignments.
They all seem so bizarre and weird to me. All I know is, at that time, I don't understand those grown up stuff and I didn't think I ever will.

Now that I am grown up, things that were once strange to me, I seem to understand better.

But life's an ever learning journey, huh?

Now I'm learning to understand God.
I really can't say I know Him. Because I don't.
I don't know why He does the things He do. I don't know why certain things are happening in my life.
I don't know.

For a brief moment just now.. I thought, I'm so tired of this. Tried of guessing why this prayer is not answered, why this prayer is. Seems inconsistent. Why?
Trying to understand my Lord, it is exhausting.
I'd rather be an angel, I thought, take me up to be one. Someone He created solely to serve and attend to Him in Heaven, who knows most of His plans, who knows how Heaven is like, who have seen His face, who doesn't have to suffer from this mystery of not knowing why certain things are happening on earth.
I just want to know why, Papa. Is it so hard? :'(

But right after that thought, a statement and a question came up.
Statement: You are His precious daughter. A title. Because He is the King of the Universe, you are the daughter of the King of the Universe.
Question: Are you sure you are willing to give up this position? This precious title, just to be an angel?
Angels do not have the same position as you. You have higher authority then angels in Heaven, as we're co-heirs in Christ.

And deep down, I know my answer is 'No'.
I will never give up this gift and position that Christ has given me. That God has so meticulously planned for me to become, a human being. Flawed but loved.
I know He's planned out every single detail in my life. Nothing is a coincidence. I am greatly love.
I will hold this title tightly, closely.
With this realisation, I felt privileged, with a tinge of hope and happiness..

...enough to go on.

Raindrops and errands

I knew it was going to rain heavily the moment I step out of the house.

I see big fat drops of rain committing suicide on the front porch's cement floor. Darker spots of water splatter appear as if magically.

I knew I had to go to Jaya One despite the weather, so ignoring the sign, I headed out with a small umbrella. hehe.

Crossing the road, walking down the flat escalator, taking note of how hard rain is falling now, wondering how on earth am I going to get back, printed notes, bought a cake, looking out of the tall glass windows and wondering if I should stay inside Cold Storage a little while until the rain softens, then deciding that I wouldn't because I'm such a bad a**, I can walk through any kind of rain. Hailstorm? Bring it.

It's interesting to note how fast that boastful thought fade by the time I reached the opposite of Old Town.

I was standing inside Jaya One (under the roof = safe zone), but facing the great outdoors.
The rain was intense. As in, I can literately see a white filament of water splatters everywhere outside the safe zone.

I dunno what exactly got into me, maybe it's a sign that I'm getting old, but I decided the stop walking, and just stand there, leaning on the wall.
I place the small umbrella on the floor beside me.
With my pink plastic file clench closely to my chest, I just felt at ease.

Isn't it ironic? Usually on any calm bright sunny day, this kind of place is the least likely place for me to feel at ease. I would be rushing back home, mind focusing on nothing but assignments.
But today, with the loud pouring rain outside the safe zone, I felt totally normal just leaning by the wall at a public area.

Two businessman walked pass me. One of them walking ahead of the other. I notice the second man had splashes of raindrops on his formal shirt. Coming back from lunch? I concluded quickly as they breeze by. They didn't seem to notice me. I smiled.

Funny how people seem too busy to notice things around them.

Rain doesn't seem to want to slow down. It splashes violently on the ground. Puddles and streams appear.

I wonder what made me feel so comfortable. And then I remembered the lyrics to a song:

"When the oceans rise and thunders roar,

I will soar with you above the storm,

Father you are King above the flood,

I will be still and know You are God."

Yeah, I may be taking the lyrics too literately, but isn't it true? The last line.

As I stare out at the crazy downpour, as I notice how each drops of rain creates a unique pattern of splatter on the ground, as I view the big picture and observe how every drop of rain is creating a different sound/visual/smell, I am overwhelm by the knowledge of the One who made rain.

I guess after living in a big city, with a schedule-packed life, it is so hard to find time to really be still. Literately be still and know how small we are.

And know that He is God.

Complaints and midnight thoughts

Here am I, covered in the dim orange light of my table lamp.

Facing the laptop. With earphones on, listening to Jayesslee's Dare You To Move.

Everything I see in this room has a warm orangey tone to it.

Midnight air is the coolest. It drifts into my room through the glass plated windows. I can pick up light coated floral sent in the air. It makes me feel fresh.

Just a few hours ago I was miserable. I was complaining. I wept. I was asking God why. I was bitter about losing my phone and being careless. I see imperfection when I look in the mirror. I had throbbing headache. Notice how many times I used 'I' in this paragraph. Ultimately I felt like He's ignoring me.

Deciding He would not talk to me today, I went down to brush my teeth. After that, while walking up the stairs, I notice the pain was gone. I was humbled. It just made me shut up about all the ramblings I was going on the past hours.

Reading Matthew later on, a line stuck out like a sore thumb to me.

"He saved others," they said, "but he can't save himself! He's the King of Israel!

Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him.

- Matthew 27:42

They don't believe Him because He didn't float down from the cross for them to see or prove that He's innocent. They didn't know that He is saving them by not coming down.
I am no different from them. 

I've often faced situations where I doubt if He really loves me as much as He claims He does, simply because my prayers and questions aren't answered.

I realise that God doesn't work the way we want Him to work. We want everything now. Instant.

When will I learn that His love is valid even when I am hurting?


In this dim orange light, and cooling fresh midnight air, I can tell you, He loves me no matter what. Even though I might not feel it at times, even though I might doubt this love. His love is real, whether I believe in it or not.

He doesn't need to preform miracles in my life to prove He loves me.

But He would all the same.