Picking Rainbow Up.

I guess when you start drawing a circle from a point, it's only right that it comes to completion. Is that why they say rainbows really are full circles, and not half-arches?

Sitting there at the same spot at the foot of my bed, where at one point, I had spent endless hours crying and praying and questioning God during that dark period, I suddenly took in the reality of what had happened.

I could hardly believe it, but it has been not two, but almost three years since A Taste of Rainbow was written, almost five years since I started to be very ill. For three years, nothing happened in spite of prayer, knocking on God's door and crying my eyes out asking Him why. Why I wasn't healed, why the book wasn't published, why God would treat me like such a puppet (or so I thought) and look at me with a frowning smile.

The worst part was, when others and I hardly believed it would come to pass, only the memory of a real rainbow arc I saw in the sky after I had finished the first draft of the book gave me hope. A rainbow in the sky, how foolish. A coincidence, that was all there was to hold on to in the face of a dream which seemed so bleak.

I remember, just the sight of that stack of paintings, and the unanswered prayer of whether I would be healed, whether anything good would come out of this experience, whether A Taste of Rainbow would be published, hurt.

Three years in medical school later, one triathlon, one thrown-away weighing scale, hundreds of church sermons and many meals taken heartily with good friends later, the day finally came when I handed my publisher all the paintings for the book. This week, I met my publisher for lunch at a lovely social enterprise called Professor Brawn which hires people from underprivileged socio-economic backgrounds and which supports the newly opened Pathlight School, a school for children with autism.

God has His perfect timing. Because that has been just the amount of time I needed to fully heal and recover. All the time which passed, was essential for me to release control of my life. At a talk by medical missionary Dr Tan Lai Yong last night, he said that the most important quality a missionary must have is the ability to lose control. Perhaps, it is perfect that I got injured, that I can learn to be secure with unexpected circumstance, with who I am, even without training or exercise.


My publisher told me, "It was good to pick Rainbow up again."


Suddenly, I realised, that after 3 years of praying over that stack of paintings, they're gone. Handed over.

Yes, indeed. It was good to pick up where we left off.


* A Taste of Rainbow will be published sometime later this year. It is a picture book about courage, hope and faith, written and illustrated to raise funds and awareness for people who are hurting in silence. Because it is fully sponsored and supported by Singapore General Hospital, Khoo Teck Phuat Foundation, Singhealth and Landmark Books, all the funds raised will go straight to the beneficiaries. This is a non-profit project. We can make the world a braver, kinder and more joyful place.

Barbering

So we did our barbering all week. I really am getting the hang of it. I finished my cut and it came out amazing. My teachers loved it and they want to keep my doll! LOL so I'm very happy :)

Snow???

It actually snowed here on April 27th... wtf??? It was pretty crazy...it snowed all day. But it's gone now and it's nice weather again.Weird. This is a pic I took outside my apartment building the nextmorning before it all melted.

 

Barbering

This week we started barbering. It is pretty hard because it's a lot different than hairdressing. You hold the scissors and comb pretty much the opposite way than you would normally hold it. So it's taking a bit of getting used to but I think I am getting the hang of it. It is very good to know how to do both men and women so I want to do this well.

In You, I rest.

Perhaps it's just as well that I've fallen ill today, so I can truly, truly rest.

I'm just really thankful for this season of rest, where I can slow down to smell the flowers, meet people, smell the rain, spend more time with my books instead of constantly running around, running around... At church yesterday, Uncle S stopped me to ask the same question he always asks, "So when are you slowing down? Mr. Right arrived yet?"

To which I replied, "Yes, I got injured, slowing down. Smelling the roses. But still busy, too busy. And er, well, I'm an unopened rose! Not time yet. Just resting, learning how to rest."

Nausea. Bloatedness. Giddiness. Maybe it's God's kind way of helping me REST.

And the feeling like only a neverending sleep on the bough of a big tree will suffice.

O God, come quickly.

This is what the LORD says:

"Stand at the crossroads and look;

Ask for the ancient paths,

Ask where the good way is,

and walk in it,

and you will find rest for your souls.

-Jeremiah 6:16a

Confession:

This picture was taken by Xi. Just in case you thought it was a serene shot elegantly taken, let me just say how terribly difficult it was to climb up that slippery, sinewy bough in a white dress! By the time I got up, my dress was partly brown, and only the most gingerly cat would have been able to balance comfortably on that tree. Xi and I both tumbled in an unglamorous mess of brown, slimy leaves when he tried to help me as I jumped from the branch.

So much for elegance, huh.

Maybe that's why photography details are best left as secrets. Moral: Looks are deceiving!

Generosity.

He greets every patient with the kind of smile that lights up a room. He makes sure he speaks personally to every single patient, and often squats on the floor just so he can be at eye level with those who are bedbound. He treats students like myself as his equal, always patiently answering our every question and turning every query into a discussion, instead of dismissing us as we so often are. He makes every person feel so important, so precious.

I have started a new module at another hospital. My stint at the previous hospital had left me jaded and rather discouraged, making me question my vocation. Now every day, I am reinspired by his enthusiasm for his work, passion to teach and dedication to his patients. I used to dislike Internal Medicine as a subject because I found it so incredibly difficult to master. Because of him, I now enjoy it tremendously.

There was something so effervescent, and genuine about his personality. (I hate to admit this, but doctors are valecdictorians of Making Other People Feel Like They Are Taking Up Their Precious Time.) And it was not till today when I could finally pinpoint what it was about him which made me marvel.

He is patient, passionate. But most of all, Dr E is generous. Generous with his time, and himself.

Generosity. It refers to the quality of being gracious enough to give unselfishly, abundantly. And in the context of the bible story of the old, poor woman who, out of her poverty, gave all she had (just 2 copper coins), I believe it also refers to the quality of giving, not merely out of one's abundance and convenience, but also out of one's need. It is sharing in times of pressure, giving in times of lack.

Morning ward rounds became a battlefield today. 3 patients suddenly went into critical condition around the same time and Dr. E had not only to resusitate patients, but had to make phonecalls, make decisions, confront anxious relatives and teach his junior doctors at the same time. Yet, that cheeky smile was never far from his lips. Even in crisis, he could laugh at himself. Later, he told us, "No matter how badly your patient is doing, I always smile because it makes them feel better. A smile can halve a patient's pain, you know."

I saw, how generous he was with his smiles. Even in busy moments, he would pause to smile at me, "Wai Jia, I'm a little tied up now, so sorry. We'll have a discussion about strokes in a minute." He makes every person he comes into contact with feel important and cherished.

Grandpa Zhou came to visit me at the hospital today. I made him come, because he refused to see a doctor at a clinic, and would not let me take him. When I sat next to him by the steps of the train station yesterday, I saw that both his feet had swollen to grotesque proportions. Bilateral pitting edema. This is not a good sign. I remember I was very tired yesterday, and half-hoped I would not see him. When I did, I wanted to simply go home instead of stopping to chat. I was tired, and stingy with my time. How God shamed me. Because it was just when I sat down next to him that he handed me a bottle of medicated oil and a loaf of bread, saying, "I bought this oil for your leg many days ago, and was hoping to pass it to you as soon as I could-for your torn muscle. And a loaf of bread, because I'm terrified of bread, and you like to eat bread, haha."

Grandpa Zhou was generous with me. But I had not been so with him. I am always rushing somewhere, going off to study or train or meet somebody. I'm glad my injury has given me more time for the people around me.

Last night, Grandpa Zhou was adamant about not seeing a doctor. "I don't need one! My feet are swollen because I drank green tea yesterday!"

I cut him short. No, Grandpa Zhou, nonono... I wanted to tell him GREEN TEA DOES NOT MAKE YOUR FEET SWELL AND I WANT TO TAKE YOU TO THE DOCTOR. He wouldn't budge, so I made a deal with him, that he would give me a call the next day after I had asked Dr. E if he could see Grandpa Zhou's feet on an informal basis. He agreed.

Dr. E had had a busy morning. 3 of his patients were in critical condition at the same time. One elderly gentleman had a drug overdose (suspected suicide case), another had widespread infection and had just suffered a transient stroke causing temporary blindness and intestinal death, while the third was having fits after they had started treatment. The patients needed close monitoring, and many phonecalls had to be made. Dr. E had every right to be tired. Yet, when I told him about Grandpa Zhou, he smiled that same smile and said, "Sure, I'll be happy to see him."

When I picked Grandpa Zhou from the lobby, he finally admitted he was in pain. He was hobbling the way I was when I first injured myself. Pushing him down the long corridor in a wheelchair, I was astounded by my initial self-centredness- I nearly walked by him the previous night because I was afraid that he'd talk for too long, and... I was tired. I wanted to go home. Yet, today, all he wanted to know was whether his oil worked, whether I was better, if I could do triathlons again.

But when Dr. E saw him, he made Grandpa Zhou feel like the most important person in the world. Dr. E squatted down, listened to Grandpa Zhou's convoluted explanation about green tea and cucumbers causing foot-swelling and talked with him patiently. Dr. E was busy. Grandpa Zhou was a little long-winded. I was asking for a favor.

But Dr. E made us feel, in those 10 minutes, like the most important people in the world. The ten minutes felt like gold. It felt like forever, in a good way.

And in utter humility, Dr. E, instead of belittling Grandpa Zhou's explanation for his swollen feet, said, "I'm not very knowledgeable about how foods affect feet, Grandpa Zhou. But from my limited knowledge, I believe this may be a side effect of your hypertensive medication, and a sign of mild heart failure."

I learnt, that true generosity is giving someone else what they need, and not what I have excess of. It is not giving bread away to the person by the wayside and treating them like a charity case for my conscience's sake. It is sharing with them what is important to me, too, while respecting their dignity. Very often, it is being inconvenienced.

After the consult, I wheeled Grandpa Zhou downstairs.

"Haha," I laughed. "You and I, both of us are PAI-KA (Hokkien dialect for 'crippled')."

"Go back to work," he said, "I'm taking up your time. I'll handle myself, don't worry."

Why am I so stingy with my time. Did I make Grandpa Zhou feel like he was taking up my time? If I can spend 2 hours biking, why can't I spend this time listening to a explanation about green tea and swollen feet. Why am I always rushing about. It struck me, that perhaps, Grandpa Zhou had walked on his painful, swollen feet just so he could get the medicated oil for me specially.

Grandpa Zhou had shown me lavish generosity.

Dr. E, in his busyness, then sat down to teach me about anti-hypertensive drugs.

He is generous with his smile, and generous with his Time-something senior doctors have so little of.

Just before I left, I wanted to thank Dr. E for being so Generous with his time with Grandpa Zhou, with his time teaching me, and with his time in taking us students out for sumptuous lunches so he could get to know us better as persons, not functional entities.

But before I could open my mouth to express my gratitude, he said, "I just wanted to thank you Wai Jia for introducing me to Grandpa Zhou. It was an honour meeting him. I hope you had a good day, you must be tired. "

I stood there, speechless.

Thank you Dr. E, for reinspiring me, and for reminding me, that God has an abundance of grace and love and resources, of which we can tap on to share with and give others. Thank you for generously giving yourself to the people around you, be it through a smile, eye contact or simply making me feel like the most important person in the world when I'm talking to you.

And thank you Grandpa Zhou, for the medicated oil, for the bread and for praying for me. But most of all, for teaching me yet again, the grace of giving.

"For I bear witness that according to their ability,

yes, and beyond their ability, they were freely willing...

But just as you excel in everything—

in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in complete earnestness and in your love for us—

-see that you also excel in this grace of giving. "

2 Corinthians8:2,3, 7

*This post is dedicated to Dr. E, whose love and passion for medicine and his patients refreshes and inspires me every day.

Curly Hair

We tried to curl my hair again yesterday in class. It came out really nice. I have only curled my hair once not too long ago, so curly hair is really weird and different for me because my hair is always straight. My hair doesn't take curls  really well though so it is hard and a few hours later the curls began coming out on their own. I woke up this morning and like there's like barely any curl left so it's pretty sad. I guess I'm gonna straighten it out because it looks stupid with like weird wavy things in it that used to be curls.

Lady gaga tixxx!!!

Got my tickets for Lady GaGa in the mail so I'm all ready to go now!

After Peniel.

And when He saw that he could not overcome Jacob,

He touched the sinew of Jacob's thigh, and forthwith it shrank.

- Genesis 32:25, Douay-Rheims Bible

I finally understand. After 17 days of hurting and thinking and asking, I finally understand.

It is Day 17 since that fateful day. 17 days since I was put on a wheelchair at the Emergency department because I could neither walk nor stand. I am still hurting now, even while walking.

There were 2 things I could not fathom. One, why my muscle tore, and tore so badly, when God knew my heart was in His hands, when I made so much effort to prioritise my family, friends, church and God above my hobby. Two, why I felt such incredible relief, joy and freedom as I rested from my injury, why I have this unspeakable assurance that God loves me profoundly, when I should be sore at Him.

"Wai Jia, you have the tendency to throw yourself 110% into everything that you do. I think that this is His way of telling you to have more reserve for Him."

There was truth in that. Yet, the incredible relief which came with this period of complete rest surprised and delighted me, in the most unexpected way. How much I enjoyed this enforced break from training intrigues me. I no longer feel like biking, or running. I don't even feel like touching the pool. I've packed my bike away. I have been ushered into a season of rest, of reflecting and journalling, of connecting with people, of considering again what it means to be a responsible steward of the talents and resources I've been given to serve the people around me. Suddenly, I have time to cook for my family, more time to pray, more time to reconsider how I can be a better friend, daughter and person.

I have failed in many ways.

I just don't feel like going for races anymore, not anytime soon, at least.

Why did it have to happen this way, God? Why were you trying to teach me. Did I really displace you from my life again?

After 17 days of walking with a normal but painful gait, I finally understand. The pain was perfect in helping me consolidate my thoughts.

I wrote about this biblical story before, but never saw it in this new light until now.

Many years ago, there was a man named Jacob. He was a good man who really loved God. He was very gifted. But he had a bad habit of leaning on his own strength without trusting God enough, even if what he strived for were righteous things, good things. It was good that he wanted to have his family's birthright (an honorable inheritance), but instead of trusting God, he stole it from his brother, Esau. It was good that he wanted reconciliation with his Esau, but instead of trusting God for restoration, he devised his own plan to placate his brother, divided his army into 2 camps and crossed the river with his own staff so as to avoid a possible death should Esau opt for revenge.

Jacob strived for good things, things which God promised him. Nothing wrong with that. But he did it with his own strength, without trust in or dependence on God's spirit. He devised a plan and crossed the river with his own strength, with his own staff, so as to preserve his life.

One day, when Jacob was left alone, an angel came to wrestle with him. For his own good, God had to pin him down in a place of struggle so he would let go of his own strength. In the fierce tussle, the angel "touched the sinew of his thigh, and forthwith it shrank", and Jacob's strength left him.

The wrestle led Jacob to a place of desperation and struggle, which led him to a place of brokenness (where he suffered a thigh injury) which led, however, to a breakthrough which led to a tranformation, where he was given a new name and a new understanding of God. He named that place where he met God face to face Peniel, which means the face of God.

Before Peniel, Jacob feared for his life. He didn't trust God enough to protect him and relied on his own strength to lean on his own staff. After Peniel, however, with the strength from his hip and thigh gone, he learnt to leaned on God's strength, to trust God more, to rest more in God's spirit.

Before Peniel, he named places and built pillars, symbolising his many ambitions. After Peniel, however, he named places and built altars, instead, symbolising his worship for God instead of himself.

Before Peniel, Jacob said this, and did this and that. After Peniel, it was God who said and did this and that to Jacob.

After 17 days of pain (with more to come), I think I finally understand. That fateful day, I was in Peniel.

Jacob strived for good things, things which God promised him. Nothing wrong with that. But he did it with his own strength, without trust in or dependence on God's spirit. He devised a plan and crossed the river with his own strength on his own staff.

I strive for good things, things in line with God's blessings. Nothing wrong with that. But too often, I do so with my own strength, with insufficient trust in God. That day when I biked, I did so because I was afraid I wasn't sufficiently prepared for the race. I tried to cross my river with my own strength on my own.

Do you have races in your life, deadlines you must meet, projects you need to do, exams you must pass, and do you strive to excel in them? Nothing wrong with that. But do you, like me, strive with your own effort without trusting God to bring you across the river? God revealed to me, that I don't trust Him enough with my dreams, my future, my relationships and my plans. I am always planning, always on the move.

And God, in His love, finally had to say STOP.

Then the angel came and touched the sinew of my inner thigh, and forthwith it shrank. I had to stop. The pain crippled me, reduced me and yet, nothing could help me fathom how thankful I was for the injury.

Because it taught me, that in life, no matter how much we say or think we love God, people, the marginalised, good works etc, we mustn't carry out our acts of good deeds or embark on projects without fully trusting and depending on God. I cannot live my life striving with self-effort. I cannot cross my river with my own strength on my staff. I cannot finish the race by myself.

In literature, angels are God's messengers to intervene in our lives for our good. Perhaps God, in His love, had sent an angel like he did to Jacob to teach me this beautiful lesson.

I realised, that my joy came from knowing what a divinely valuable lesson I am learning from this experience. I learnt, that God loves us enough to stop us when we need to. I learnt, that I desperately need to learn to trust God with all abandon, not only in sports, but in medicine, in missions, in my future and my relationships with people.

Like Jacob, I like taking things into my own hands. I justify it by saying it's what God wants for me. But being touched by an angel reminded me, that I still need to surrender, still need to let go, and simply... let God. I need to stop being such a control freak over my own life.

After Peniel, Jacob, the ambitious deceiver, was given a new name called Israel, which means "he who struggles with God and overcomes". New names symbolise divine transformation. Since that day, Jacob learned to lean on his staff using God's strength, instead of relying on his inner thigh and hip, which symbolised his own strength.

Today is Day 17. The pain had been improving steadily till yesterday when, for some reason, it got worse again. It reminded me to Let Go. It reminded me that this season is a time for me to be transformed in my spirit. It reminded me that life after Peniel shall be different. What is it that I still do not trust God fully in.

Oh God, so many things.

I know, this pain will persist and complete healing will only come when I learn this lesson well. I know, one day, I will finish a race, and it will be with God's strength, not mine.

And I am compelled to rejoice, yes, even in this pain, even when I despair or become discouraged or grow impatient, because I am awed and inspired by the beauty of this reminder, that God allows all things to happen for a purpose, if only we open our hearts to life's lessons, and that He loves us so much that He just wants us to let go, to rest and to trust Him for all of life's challenges, big and small.

Life after Peniel shall be different, indeed.

"And He said, "Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel;

for you have struggled with God and with men,

and have prevailed..."

... And He (God) blessed him there...

Jacob called the place Peniel,

"For I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved..."

- Genesis 28, 30

*This post was inspired by Aunty Ay.

Make Up

Today we had a lady come to our class to show us a bit about doing make up because she is offering a make up course for any of us who are interested. I thought it was pretty cool, but I don't think I will take the make up course because it is too expensive and I don't know if I would really use it... but who knows. And all the products are very expensive too, even the brushes you use to apply them can be around $50-$150 per brush and you need a lot of them... the girl had like hundreds of brushes! Anyways I am telling myself that once I get established as a hairdresser and start making money maybe I will think about taking the make up course because it is good to know a lot.

Lolly's story.

I sat there, and just marvelled.

Such simple lessons, and yet, they were so profound.

Perhaps, it is not only because I love to teach and love children that I enjoy Sunday School at the children's church so much, but because of how much I learn there as well. So often I find myself marvelling at the simple lessons of life taught to the children, lessons that I madly wished I had known, if only I had believed in God from the beginning.

On Sunday, during a combined teaching session, Pastor S told a story of Lolly, a little girl who was told by the world that she had to be this-and-that to be beautiful and accepted. The deceitful rabbit, wiley orange fox and wicked witch made her believe she needed to exchange her beautiful basket of sunflowers and lollipops for rabbit shoes, an orange coat and a tight belt in order to be beautiful and accepted into the royal kingdom.

It was at this point that Zenon turned around, gave me his cheeky grin then whispered seriously to me, "Jiejie (big sister) Wai Jia, I know this story. It's going to rain soon! Lolly's rabbit shoes become muddy, her coat shrinks in the rainwater and her belt loses its shine!"

"Oh really?"

" YES. REALLY!"

Pastor S continued, "Children, do you know that you are all beautiful and precious in God's eyes? You don't need to believe other people if they make you feel lesser. You don't need other people to tell you what kind of clothes you need to wear, how you ought to be- because you are beautiful and precious to God as you are."

What a beautiful lesson. I looked at little Darrell and said, "God loves you just as you are, okay?"

Lolly's story reminded me of how important it is to recognise where we place our sense of security. Do we place it on our looks, our talents, our abilities or in... God?

It made me think. For years I placed it in my work. When I was ill, it was because I put it in my appearance. Triathlon was a way for me to regain my health and to kickstart healthy eating habits again. This season, God has, out of love, chosen to take even that, the strength to train for triathlons, away from me. Now, in my peace and joy in simply resting, in simply being, I can safely say that I've found where my security lies. I am relieved to realise, I don't need my training to feel adequate or to get by. Perhaps at one point I did, but I've graduated from that school of thinking and moved on to a better, more secure place.

Sunday School has taught me, that if I really love my kids and want to teach them well, I too, have to inculcate and apply the lessons learnt at Sunday School in my life. Because of you, I want to love myself more, too.

On Sunday, I taught you all the lesson of Thinking Before We Speak. That's little Darrell being my volunteer, taking a tube of toothpaste from me so he could help me squeeze the paste out onto a piece of paper.

"Darrell, can you try to put the toothpaste back into the tube?"

He tried.

"Yar," he replied with all earnestness.

There was a huge mess left behind on the piece of paper.

Lesson: Our words are like toothpaste. The words we speak can be hard to take back. When we try to, just as how we tried to put the paste back into the tube, we usually end up...

"MAKING A MESS!"

"NASTY MESS!"

"DIRTY NASTY MESSY MESS!"

The children squealed with enthusiasm.

Indeed. Why do I find myself learning more from you at Sunday School than from what I teach.

Reflecting upon the entire series of Conflict Resolution lessons I had to teach you, you made me see how much unforgiveness I had, how I needed to let go, and how I ought to manage people situations better. Why am I not as much of a people-person as I would like to be?

Just keep it between you and me as a secret. But I'm in Sunday School because you teach me so much, too. I genuinely want to listen whenever you say, "Jiejie Wai Jia, I have something to tell you", even if it's about the BIG RED BUS!! you saw this week, or the NEW SHIRT MUMMY BOUGHT ME YESTERDAY!!

And I love it when you come up to me just to ask, "Jiejie Wai Jia, are you teaching today?"

Love you guys to bits.

Tell me Lolly's story again.

Think before you Speak

"Reckless words pierce like a sword."

-Proverbs 12:18

"He who guards his mouth and his tongue keeps himself from calamity." -

Proverbs 21:23

Men in Pink.

Maybe it was because I had told him quite directly how handsome and smart he was, or maybe, he simply knew that his disarming charm had won my heart from Day one. Every time he calls my name, my heart melts.

"Zenon darling. Are you wearing the same shirt as you did last week? Yes, you look very handsome in it." (*Read this.)


"Er, Yes!"


They always say children grow up so fast. Before you know it, they're ladies and men already. I wondered if a week had any effect on pushing him along the journey of growth and self-discovery.

Out of curiosity, I asked, cheekily, the same question I asked him last week, "So Zenon, what colour is your shirt?"

"A-LITTLE-BIT-RED... and... A-LITTLE-BIT-PINK-ALSO!"

All right. I'M JUST GLAD YOU'RE NO LONGER IN DENIAL.

A-little-bit-red-and-a-little-bit-pink-also.

I can live with that.

Love you.

Real men wear pink :) Go Zenon!

Bright and Sunny Sundays.

"Good morning Liron."

"Good morning Jiejie (big sister) Wai Jia," you say sheepily as you fiddle with your socks, trying to take them off before entering the classroom.

"Hey," I said cheekily. "I'm teaching your class today. Is that all right?"

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYY!!!!!"

That was the biggest YAY I'd heard in ages.

You make my Sundays bright and sunny too.

Hug.

Today's Work

Today I made $10 doing a wash and blow dry at school... so I'm pretty happy. I know it's not a lot of money but it's the thought that counts. The lady gave me a $5 tip! So that's pretty cool, and the other $5 was has of the blow dry money because you get to keep half of what you do.
I also applied bleach to the roots of my teacher's client because he wants me to practice but he said I didn't do a good job after so I was pissed off but I mean last time I did that client, I did all the work and she doesn't even give me a tip and gives him all the money... so I mean yeah I should care and want to do a good job but at the same time a part of me doesn't care because why should I do all of his work for him while he gets the money and doesn't give me any... so yeah I mean it's not like I did a bad job intentionally. I did my best and apparently he didn't like it so that's too bad... better luck next time I guess.

Today's Hairdressing

This is what I did in class today. We were experimenting with fashion colors so I was trying out purple. It's really hard to see in the pix but I added in purple to my dolls and it came out really nice.

Lady GaGa Concert 2010

June 28th, 2010 I will be attending Lady GaGa's concert when she comes to the Bell Centre here in Montreal. I bought my tickets last saturday. I was waiting by the computer for them to go on sale because they were to go on sale at 10am... well the nice seats were way too expensive ($175 each) and the bad seats which I had last time were $85 (I paid $49 for them last concert and they were terrible!) so I picked floor tickets, which is really cool but I am not entirely thrilled about it because I am really really short. Well I am gonna try to get right in front of the stange but I will probably be attacked by an angry mob of people.... anyways I went out and bought a pair of 6 inch platform shoes just to wear for the occasion. I hope they will help and I hope they are comfortable enough to stand in for the duration of the concert! We'll see... I really want to stand at the front of the stage to I can touch her leg lol.... I am pathetic....

Being Still.

Perhaps, it really is true when they say God knows the deepest cries of our hearts, and knows us better than we even know ourselves. Perhaps, it is His great love for us that allows Him to orchestrate events for our good, even when they seem the least likely to be so.

I should have been really upset. Instead, I felt free. Like a bird out of its cage, I felt so free.

And surprised, too. My reaction of sadness mixed with much relief and gladness surprised me.

"No biking or running for the next 6 weeks. You may take up to 3 months to recover. You've torn your hamstring tendon, and could possibly have a pelvic stress fracture."

"3 months? You're joking. I exercise 5 to 6 days a week."

"Well, it could be sooner but yeah, it takes that long."

I could feel the pressure building up behind my eyes, but it came mainly because I knew I would miss my friends whom I train with. Yet, a part of me was strangely... relieved. It was as if I was relieved that God had intervened, because He knew better than I did that I was tired, that I was going too long and too far, that my spirit longed for a fresh change and needed to enter a new season. He knows best what's good for us, and where we ought to be at.

This, is a season of rest.

Relief, came as a strange feeling.

For once, I'm relieved that life no longer revolves around 2 to 3 runs, 2 swims and 1 bike session a week. I'm relieved that time has suddenly opened itself up, and I have the freedom, the time and the space (oh, the lovely, expanding, cystalline space that suddenly unfolds endlessly, seamlessly) to stop, to meet people, to simply -be-, without being enslaved to a routine of adrenaline or to expectation. For once, I'm relieved to be a semi-colon, and not a series of exclamation marks. I don't have to train, don't have to think about the next race, don't have to wonder why I'm so tired.

It's funny how we put expectations on ourselves that we were never required, at least in God's eyes, to fulfill.

Interruptions, can be beautiful things.

After manouvreing both my legs in the strangest and most awkward of positions, and finding all ways and means to find the point which hurt the most, The Big Man finally said, "It isn't the gracilis you tore. It's the adductor magnus tendon."

I learnt, that no matter how terrible our mistakes may be, God's grace and love to us, will always be restored- fully. It brought me great relief, strangely, to know that my grace-lis muscle was intact, even though the adductor magnus is a larger one.

This injury helped me see where my time had gone all this while, how the time spent in the water and on the road can also be spent elsewhere, on art, on thinking, and people and good books. How I miss painting and cooking and being... Still. This injury helped me see how incredibly liberating it is to know you can let go, how deeply empowering it is to one's faith to know that one is not a slave to anything. It is helped me to trust God, and to see how affliction, is truly a beautiful thing.

There was a season to suffer on the road while training, and now there is a season to suffer off it, while being still.

I decided to see a sports doctor when I finally decided that it isn't normal for one to be in a perpetual state of pain all day, even while resting and walking. I awoke in the middle of the night because of pain, and so decided today, that I needed to get help.

I realised, that interupptions, afflictions and setbacks are opportunities to learn from mistakes, to learn about oneself, and about life. I realised, that pain holds our feet long enough for us to stop striving, and to start being.

It's funny how I can be in so much in pain and yet feel so.... relieved. Thankful. At peace with God.

Yet, the pain is real. Tears do come. When it gets worse at night while I'm by myself, when I can't chase a bus, miss my training buddies or when I wonder if I might ever do a triathlon again, the tears do come.

But I remind myself, that God is in control, that even in affliction, He has a purpose. Crazy?

Maybe.

I am excited about the new season I am entering, one of rest, of processing what sports and training mean to me, what they mean to God and the poor, of exploring new things to do with my time- like reading and oil painting and finally, maybe the fourth book that I've been wanting to write...

From my illness, God brought me to a place where I could be healthy through sports. Now, I am entering a place where I can find security even without it. Even while being... Still.

That, too, is a breakthrough.

And so, I can rejoice and give thanks, even in stillness, even in a state of perpetual pain.

Perhaps, that too, is victory.

"... It is good for me that I have been afflicted,

That I may learn Your statutes...

... I know, O God, that Your judgements are right,

And that in faithfulness You have afflicted me.

Let, I pray, Your merciful kindness be for my comfort..."

- Psalm 119:70-76

"I will be still and know You are God."

-Still

MY IDOLS

 

Lady GaGa

 

Gerard Butler

 

Michael Jackson

Prince

My Hairdressing

I am in hairdressing school and I am soon graduating, here are some of my creations

Bowling

Lady GaGa Concert

November 27th, 2009

Michael Jackson

 

On MJ's bday August 29th, 2009 I dressed in a MJ tribute.

Halloween Costume 2009

This is my Halloween Costume for 2009.
I went as Lady GaGa.

Welcome to my blog

Hey everyone my name is Amanda.

This is me (and my boyfriend Dale)

And this is my blog where I will be telling you about my life.

The New Pink.

My 7 to 8 year-old Sunday School children gathered together for class. Chatting away like a hive of bees, the raucous boys were so absorbed in conversation that I needed to get their attention to start class. So I said, loudly and clearly, very slowly and deliberately, with just a hint of mystery just so I could get their attention,

" Hmmm... I notice something veerrry in-ter-est-ing about the boys in my class."

The boys, stunned, froze at once in mid-action as they executed their super-hero superpower moves.

"Hmmm...." I continued, "I notice thaaaaat...." I deliberately dragged my words for suspense.

".... thaaaaat...... so many of you are dressed in RED today! One, two, three, four, five and hey, look, Zenon is in..."

I don't know what it was but something gripped me and shut my mouth before that wretched word came out of my mouth. Some boys had already begun giggling, and I stopped myself mid-sentence immediately, deleted the word from my verbal brain bank and said instead, "... and Zenon is looking VERY SMART AND HANDSOME today."


Phew.

Zenon was in a beautiful rich PINK collared shirt. But I realised, there are some things you should never EVER say to a 7-year old boy in front of his macho friends, unless you intend to scar him for life.

Right after, as the other boys became engrossed in their man-talk again, I asked Zenon very cautiously, away from the other boys, "Zenon, I really like your shirt you know. Are you wearing...."

I was almost whispering now, ".... pink?"

He looked up from whatever he was doing and said matter-of-factly, "No, Jiejie Wai Jia, it's A-LITTLE-BIT-RED. I'm wearing A-LITTLE-BIT-RED."

You know, the inner Obessive-compulsive freak within me corrects my kids when they speak bad english, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it this time.

"Oh, I see," I replied.

I see, A-LITTLE-BIT-RED is now the new "in" colour, the new Pink, I might say. No pun intended.

Okay. A-LITTLE-BIT-RED it is, Zenon.

JUST SO I DON'T SCAR YOU FOR LIFE.

I love you.

24/7.

"I have learned to hold all things loosely,
so God will not have to pry them out of my hands.”

-Corrie Ten Boom.

Tearing my muscle must have been the best thing that happened to me this season. It's just crazy- I've never felt so relieved, joyful and thankful for an unfortunate incident.

I was going too fast, and God, in His love, stopped me in my tracks. I cannot begin to tell you how incredibly thankful I am.

My closest friend, Jw, once told me, "Yes, I agree when you confess that you can be quite extreme... and that's because you're so wildly passionate about the things you love. It's your greatest strength and weakness, Jia. A double-edged sword, no doubt. "

Looking back, I can now see how things were getting out of hand: More and more people had begun pressing me to train for longer and longer races, kept giving me different sorts of advice, and doled out straightforward put-downs whenever their advice was not taken. Buy this, buy that. You need this, you need that. You need to train this way, not that way. You need a coach. You need a training programme.

Enough, folks. Enough.

Until today, I didn't realise how much I had hurt God by allowing myself to be caught in the fray. All this while, I thought I had taken sports in the right stride, lightly enough, and had put God and my loved ones first. But the lines were getting blurry, and I'm just so thankful that He, in His love, put a stop to this nonsense before it was too late. Had I not torn my muscle and gone for this race, I know this would just be the beginning of another endless worldly pursuit, an embarkation on another golden-calf building project.

Triathlon is an expensive sport. Races are costly. Training takes time.

So I have decided. I am not going to sign up for any more races until I have complete peace that God wants me to. I am going on a 10 day fast (maybe longer) from sports. No training- zilch, nothing, zero, for someone who usually trains 5 to 6 days a week. I want to spend my time recovering and being still at God's feet. I want to spend my time journalling, painting, visiting the needy and spending time with my loved ones. I want to spend time with God, and hear His calling for my life again, loud and clear.

Just like how I'm fed up with people telling me to rebond/straighten my hair, I'm just not convinced that the money spent justifies the cause. I'm just not interested to join another race, not for now. I'm not interested to buy any more things- aerobars, saddles etc. I'm not interested to know what I lack- You must wear make-up, you need to do pedicures, you must go for facials, you need to have straight and shiny hair, you need to lose some weight (and don't swim so much because your arms will become big and unladylike...) To be honest, my muscle tore because I took the persistent and insistent advice of someone, against my own instincts, to shift the position of my bike saddle. I learnt, that no matter what the crowd says, you've still got to listen to your heart and that still, small voice within.

I am learning to say no. No, I don't want to spend any more money on my pleasures. No, this is not how I want to lead my life. No, I don't believe you when you say a girl has to wear make-up and look LIKE THAT to get a boyfriend and get married and be happy etc etc etc. I JUST DON'T BELIEVE YOU. GO AWAY.

I have God, and for now, that is enough. His grace is more than sufficient for me. Thank you, and have a nice day.

Enough, folks. Enough. This girl is not going to touch her bike for 2 weeks, maybe longer. Her friends have been asking her to join the Port Dickson Olympic distance triathlon race but she doesn't want to, not anymore. Not unless God gives her the green light. It is an overseas race spanning a weekend, which means I miss church. The date of the race, 24/07/10, is almost symbolic- do I want to be consumed by the things of this world (sports, possessions, self-pleasure) 24/7, or can I let them go in pursuit of what really matters?

Why do I think of how much money I spend on buying Grandpa Zhou or Uncle Zainol groceries when a race costs this much? Leading a life with expensive habits while serving the poor is inconsistent- it not only makes a fraud of me, but a mockery of God. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with these things per say, and I'm not saying that I judge people who pursue them. It's just that... I know it's not what God wants for me this season, not for now anyway.

I've really had enough. I'm sorry, God. And I'm thankful for the pain which persists, still, because it reminds me of what's really important in life. The real race which matters is the one we journey on in life itself. And we must let no distraction cut in on us to disqualify us for the prize of eternal value.

Leading a balanced life, in awe of its fragility, in gratitude for its blessings and in wonder of its miracles- stopping for a blind man, giving a lost person directions, spending time on one's knees to pray, going out for a spin with my loved ones, being acutely aware of one's frailties and transience, laying my head in the arms of God, with sports and pleasure being a part of the bigger picture, instead of constantly, constantly being pumped with adrenaline... is what I want 24/7.

Living a balanced life close to the heart of God, one where I can cling loosely to all things, one where I can live faithfully serving people well... that is what I really want, 24/7.

Perhaps, God'll give me the green light to race eventually, after I sort out certain struggles, and learn certain lessons. But for now, I just want to lie down on green grass in God's presence, and be... still.

The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.

You were running a good race.

Who cut in on you and kept you from obeying the truth?

That kind of persuasion does not come from the one who calls you.

Galatians 5:6-8

gRACE.

The old me would have been sore for a long time. The new me rejoiced.

I tore a muscle while training for today's triathlon race so I could not race. (It still hurts, even at rest now.) I attended the race still, to support my friends. I did not race, yet, enjoyed every moment of it. It's funny how God blesses us so extravangantly when we choose to let go.

Today, while supporting my friends at the race (from 6am till 2pm) and taking photos for them, I asked myself many things.

What does racing mean to me? What point is there in it, and why does it matter? What purpose did God have for me in not participating in today's race. As day started to break and I watched the race atmosphere build up, I asked myself and God these questions.

Had I been proud? Was God trying to teach me something? I told myself, that every setback can be used postively if we choose to learn something from it.

It was when I was on the outside looking in today that I began to be filled with gratitude for my injury, because not racing helped me to clarify many things. Even though I did not race, I was surprised by how much fun I had. It made me see, that I enjoy the sport for what it is, because of the friends I made along the way, the time I spent training with them, for the spiritual and life lessons the sport has taught me, and less, for the opportunity to race.

I had been training on automatic mode for so long, that I failed to process the whole point of taking part in races. Today, my injury helped me to stop to think, and it helped me see what my heart really wants. I learnt, that I do not wish to take sports to a higher level-I neither enjoy being coached (even for free) nor taking the sport seriously. I learnt, that I want to be able to walk away from this whenever God wants me to. I also learnt, that sports is taken too seriously by too many people, and one must be careful not to let it destroy oneself.

Weather was bad today. Many people skidded, crashed and had bad, bad falls on their bikes. The swim had to be cancelled because of lightning dangers-some people cursed, shouted and sweared at the organisers, and displayed poor sportsmanship. A man flouted security rules, was stopped and then immediately started punching the security personnel in a crazy rage. Things got ugly.

It was then I saw how seriously some people took today's race-so seriously that bad weather made them curse, a change in race course made them demand their money back, and wanting their way made them get into fights. It wasn't worth it.

I told myself, that I never want sports to destroy me this way.

I ended up being thankful for my injury. My torn gracilis muscle saved me from a dangerous race today, as I know I easily could have been one of the injured soldiers. It made me see how the completion of every race really is a blessing from God- one needs to be fit, injury-free; weather needs to be good; one needs to be financially stable to own the sporting equipment; one needs to have motivation. It made me see how expensive triathlons are, how self-centred some of us can be, and how much effort is put into the game. Do I match, dollar for dollar, the race fees I pay with how much I give to the poor and needy? Do I spend as much time connecting with God as I do on training? Has this sport made me selfish and proud, or has it helped me become a better person?

Today, as I sat on the sidelines, I asked myself persistently: why race?

I admit, there is something about taking part in it that gives me an adrenaline rush, something about the atmosphere and the cameraderie which makes me enjoy races.

Today I saw, that while physical training is important, spiritual exercise is more important, still. If what we do does not better us, it can destroy us.

Today I saw, how "me" centred sports can make us. Just like how I thought having a great bike like Faith would help me complete many more races, perhaps many of us think that our faith (in God or our own abilities) would surely bring us far in life too. The tear in my gracilis (grace-lis) muscle reminded me, however, that without Grace, Faith can't bring us anywhere at all.

While Faith is "me" centred, Grace is God-centred. It refers to God's provision and unmerited favor upon our lives. Perhaps, what we tend to forget, is that in spite of our self-confidence, we would be nothing had it not been for what we had been blessed with by the Giver all good things. Our intelligence comes from our parents, our ability to afford education, the good health to study, all of which come from God. This providence, is what I call Grace, the grace that humbles us and teaches us gratitude, which is essential to helping us finish the race in life.

I learnt, that faith and grace must go hand in hand. Faith (as in my bike and in the spiritual context) is not enough to carry us through. Grace (and my gracilis muscle) is essential, too.

Today, I was really surprised at how much I enjoyed just watching the race, and discovering myself. I was happy because I realise I have been so very tired training and schooling and training and schooling and eating and training that my body just really needs a break. I was happy because I realised that this race did not have a hold on me- I let it go quite easily after pouting for a bit. I was happy because I learnt such an important lesson about Grace. I made a mistake, but God, in His love, loved me enough to chasten my wayward heart. That makes me incandescently happy. Like I always say, suffering, can often be a beautiful thing.

At the end of the race, they gave me a medal anyway, even though I did not compete. The medal made me see that races can be empty and useless. It reminds me of the day I may have to throw all my medals away, simply as an exercise of humility. It reminds me to cling loose to everything we have. I used to think I wanted to race better, race more. Now, I no longer see the necessity. I don't want to race just because other people are, simply because I feel a need to better my timing, or because I need to prove something. I want to race only because God wants me to.

When the event ended, and I looked at the desolate, empty field which were racked with thousands of bikes at first, I saw how meaningless the sport can be, if we do not allow it to mould our characters the right way. It is meaningful only if it helps us to love God and the people around us more deeply, if it helps us make the world a better place.


I suppose, journeying in life and finishing life's races well are all about the lessons we learn along the way. It is true when people say the process counts more. So today, in learning in this valuable lesson about Faith and Grace, I think I daresay that even though I did not swim, bike or run, I was a winner in my own small way. I did finish this part of the race, this spiritual segment of learning gratitude, humility and dependence on God.

After the event, a sportsperson I bumped into today and whom I met at a previous race wrote to me:

My friend,

I enjoyed our conversation today and for some reason, it sparked something in me. I just wrote a note of reflection (attached) and I just wanna let you know that I am dedicating it to you. I think it takes courage and wisdom to know your limits and you showed me that strength today by not racing with your recovering injury. You could have raced to prove a point but you didn't.

Thanks. :)

KL

I learnt, that not racing can be a mark of strength, humility and surrender, too.

I learnt, that I enjoy sports, enjoy cycling not for what medal it can bring me, but for the friends I've made along the way, who've added depth, meaning and beauty to my life. No matter if I don't get to race on race day, because it's the spiritual race of life which we are called to finish, and finish well.

my friends and I on my 23rd birthday,

with my bike (Faith) which they put together for me

Excuse the pun, but perhaps, the best race is the one found in gRACE. And that was the race P told me I would finish, and that Dp dreamt of me completing.

...train yourself to be godly.

For physical training is of some value,

but godliness has value for all things,

holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.

1 Timothy 4:7-8