Take that step.

I was excited and anxious and giddy with joy and fear about coming to this moment.

The Professional People had told me before, that for Rainbow (my next book) to work, for it to achieve its cause of bringing hope to those who were hurting and raising awareness about this treacherous thing called Anorexia, I had to be comfortable with sharing my story. I had to be comfortable with my past and present. I had to be comfortable with the media.

It's not easy.

The Mighty People had warned me before, that this was a Dangerous path to choose. It could affect my career, my life plans, my image. People will mark you down for your past. It is not a forgiving society. Once you go public with the book and your previous illness, there will be no turning back. They had warned me against it.

But God is funny, with ways and thoughts higher than ours. Who would have thought that the committee which gave me the award thought this as courage. Who would have thought that the award was timed just perfectly before the launch of Rainbow, that I may be encouraged and affirmed?

Faith, is all about trusting in the unseen and what we do not yet have. It's about following your heart in spite of naysayers.

Like going to Nepal during the rioting. Like writing my first book. Like learning to cycle and picking up triathlon. Like booking my flight tickets to Africa to visit this ministry- this time this next trip really scares me (3 flights to get there-golly!) All the choices which instilled most fear in me turned out to be the most life-changing ones.

So here goes. Yea, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of doing the wrong thing, afraid of screwing up, afraid of consequences and afraid of the process. But that's okay.

That's okay.



from: here

"Live life fully while you're here. Experience everything.

Take care of yourself and your friends.

Have fun, be crazy, be weird.

Go out and screw up!

You're going to anyway,

so you might as well enjoy the process.

Take the opportunity to learn from your mistakes:

find the cause of your problem and eliminate it.

Don't try to be perfect;

just be an excellent example of being human."

- Anthony Robbins


Your past is just a story.

And once you realize this it has no power over you.”
— Chuck Palahniuk


"Be strong and of good courage,

do not fear nor be afraid of them;

for God is the One who goes with you.

He will not leave you nor forsake you. "

- Deuteronomy 31:6

Making Decisions.

Looking at how I function at school, you'd think I was a decision maker. I often take the lead, initiate projects, take the first step in getting things done.

On reflection, however, I realized that this is not always the case. My inconsistency took me by surprise. An incident last week made me wake up. I totally deserved those 2 phonecalls when I got told off. Make a decision, Wai Jia. You just have to decide, we can't decide for you.

It was about my next book, A Taste of Rainbow, due to be launched next month. Everyone was ready to send it to print, but we couldn’t do so until we knew exactly how many copies we wanted, and what we wanted to do with those copies. Would funds be raised? Where would they go? Will the books hit the public bookstores or schools? How many copies are enough? Would there be a fundraising event?

Everyone had given me their 2 cents. But over the past months, all I’d been doing was going roundtable asking each person what he/she thought was best. Oh so you think we should do this, eh? Okay, yea, sure.

Round and round we went, until someone got fed up and said to me, Make a decision, Wai Jia. You just have to decide, we can't decide for you. I think, everyone else felt the same way.

I learnt a very important lesson that day: that worse than making the wrong choice, is making no choice at all.

I realise, I was afraid. I was afraid if I decided on say, 3000 copies, there might not be enough to go around. Or that there may be copies lying around in second-hand bookstores or trash bins. I was afraid if I decided that this would purely be a public education drive to raise awareness for eating disorders and depression and there would be no fundraising, some kid out there was going to be deprived of treatment because he comes from a low-income family. I'm afraid, that if I decide to take on interviews, some young reporter out there waiting all year for a good story will treat me like fodder.

I realized, that I really was just afraid. And I wasn’t ready to make a decision of such magnitude by myself. I assumed everyone else knew better. The bottom line was, I wasn't ready to take the responsibility.

When I finally jotted my Decision down, on exactly how many copies to print, where they would go, what purpose they would serve, I cried. It was not a logical emotion. It took so much of me just to say, okay, I'm not really sure if this is the best decision but here goes. Inside my head, this loud booming voice kept echoing: Why don't these people make the decision for you? They are The Professionals. You are not. You’re just a 23-year old girl- what do you know?

I forgot, that I'm an adult now, and people see me as one. I forgot, that the advice I most often give youth about dreaming big is to believe in oneself and never to let anyone tell you that you can’t, because you can. Those were my exact words in the TV interview that day. I had been playing the sick role for so long, assuming other people knew better that I forgot, I am capable of making my own decisions too.

At one season of my life, God wanted me to learn how to trust Him, let go and surrender to life, instead of being such a control freak over everything. He wanted me to humble me to see that very often, other people had better judgement than myself. I felt Kitesong was such a success because other people took over and the project flew from the subsequent decisions they made. I hadn’t realized I had entered a new season, one where God wanted me to learn how to trust myself and Him again, and learn that I could make good, measured decisions too. Kitesong taught me about releasing, while Rainbow is teaching me about asserting.

Some people have been asking me, sometimes jokingly, how has life been different after receiving the award. To be honest, life has been completely different and yet completely the same. Perhaps most significantly, I have become acutely aware of my deficiencies, and very much encouraged and motivated to better myself because a group of people believe in me to do so. I have become acutely aware of the infinite measure of God’s grace, as I try to conceive the magnitude of His generosity to use someone as myself with an unglamorous, broken past.

I keep forgetting, that I’m an adult now, fully capable of making good decisions. I may have got an award, I may be a medical student, but somewhere deep down inside, my mind still conceives me as that little girl who can't decide where she wants to have dinner. Why don't you decide? I'm easy. As long as it's not fast food, yea, you let me know.

I’m afraid of making bad decisions, and having to take responsibility for them.

This cannot on. When I start work as a junior doctor in May, I will be making tons of decisions every day. Do I escalate this situation to my senior? Does this patient require intensive care? It's 3am, do I need to phone my consultant? What if the patient dies? But what if it’s actually non-urgent and my senior scolds me instead? I have to decide.

An incident at church last Sunday fleshed this out quite clearly to me. A pastor was talking about young people getting married. At the end, he called for all the young people who wanted to get married eventually to go upfront. Lots of my friends went. I’m usually unabashed about going upfront to make commitments to God and such, but this time, my procrastination surprised me.

I realize, that the whole idea of marriage freaks me out at this point because it would require me to make a Decision. A decision that no one else can make for me, and whose consequence I must bear. What's going to happen? Can one ever be sure of one’s choice? And they shall cleave to become one flesh.

If he's a drinker and he hits me, that will be because I chose to ignore his social drinking before we married. If he rides a motorbike and becomes paralysed after a car accident, it would be because I didn’t stop him from riding as a wife. If we exasperate each other and drive each other up the wall, it will be because… did we make the wrong choice?

Being told off over the phone that day about my indecision about Rainbow taught me a very important life lesson that day: that worse than making the wrong choice, is making no choice at all.

I eventually went upfront. Yea, I guess I do want to get married someday. Even that, was a decision in itself and took me a lot of effort.

I am learning, sometimes, you just gotta bite the bullet and trust yourself and God.

It reminded me of my hamstring injury, of how I got injured so badly mainly because I didn’t trust my body to tell me what it could or could not do. I went roundtable asking all those other people whom I thought were More Professional than me because I assumed they knew better.

Another lesson: It doesn’t matter if other people are more experienced. The main point is, YOU need to make the choice, because this is YOUR body/race/project/patient/task. This is YOUR and not their responsibility.

It’s about taking responsibility, saying okay, I screwed up but it’s okay, I can learn from it.

My elder sis was right. Jia, you gotta learn to grow up. Someday, you're gonna be all by yourself, and you're gonna be taking care of other people too. But you know what? You can do it. I know you can.

I'm just so thankful for those last words over the phone to me: I know this is new to you, and it's a good learning experience. I'm not going to leave you in the lurch. We're going to guide you along the way if you make boo-boos. But you have to make the decision about Rainbow. Okay?

So I sat down, cancelled out all the questions I had typed out for other people to answer, and made my Decision. From now on, I will make conscious efforts to make decisions every day, without asking too much of what do you think? Is this okay? I'm okay with anything, what say you?

Instead, I will pray through my decision and say, I think this. Can do?

4000 copies of Rainbow go to print today. I hope we make it in time for the press release.

Fingers crossed.

Thank you EK.

" Roll your works upon God,

commit and trust them wholly to Him;

He will cause your thoughts to become agreeable to His will,

and so shall your plans be agreeable and succeed."

- Proverbs 16:3

(Amplified version)

The Driver's Seat.

"Have you noticed, that... your life has been very... challenging?"

I knew she was on to something. And I knew, she was about to help me discover something magical, something that smelled refreshing and nostalgic and ancient and fresh. So I stayed on track, trying to catch a whiff of the trail.

"Yea, I have. But what am I to do?"

Silence.

"So, what are you saying?" I asked, smiling a little, not wanting to sound confrontational.

"What I'm saying is, I've noticed that your life seems to consist of climbing one mountain after the next, and all I'm wondering is, whether you feel tired, and if you exercise enough self-care. Like what we talked about at our last session."

We were on the topic of my next book. About it going to be published soon, about the difficulties which came with it and which will come along with it. We were talking about my upcoming final examinations, my ruminations about how my previous illness had taken away what I wished it hadn't. We were talking about that recurrent topic in our conversations, about that melancholic sense of lonliness inside of me because of my desire to do missions and to live my life differently.

"So how does doing all these things make you feel?"

"I mean, I guess I feel fulfilled. But to be honest, sometimes I do feel lonely. I mean, on the outside it looks great. Like, people think I have it all together- studies, community service, friends etc. But hey, I only got 24 hours in a day, so something's gotta go- I end up doing a lot of "purposeful" things. You're right. Sometimes, I get tired. And it feels lonely. But I mean, I've come to accept it- because, I feel called to do this sorta thing."

"Sure."

Silence.

"But I guess, part of the roller-coaster bit of my life, part of my previous illness was because I tried so hard to be in control. There're so many factors in life- I can't control the results of my studies, I can't control my future residency, I can't control what people think of me, I can't control where I'll be headed next, so the eating disorder was the best way for me to feel in control."

"Absolutely."

Silence.

"So do you see, how you've compartmentalised God? Like you give Him control over this, this and this, but not over that, that and that? And because of that, do you see how you tend to climb your own mountains, one after another, to experience that temporary high? But they're barren mountains. They're all barren. All that unecessary drama was from you driving by yourself because you feared that God would take you elsewhere you feared you wouldn't be able to cope."

Epiphany moment.

"Yea... you're... right."

Do you, like me, struggle to be in the driver's seat? Do you fear the change in scenery, the feeling like you don't know where you're being driven to, and if you'd be taken to a place where, gasp, you might not be able to cope?

I know I do.

I've always striven to be behind the wheel, so I think I know exactly where I'm going. The truth is, even with both hands behind the steering wheel, we never do. How can we, for only God knows our futures and our lives. The ironic part is, we, in our ignorance, in spite of our best intentions, then often drive ourselves up mountains that we were never meant to climb.

"Why do you want to drive up barren mountains, when God wants to bring you to lusher, grander, more beautiful mountains on the other side? Has it occurred to you, that perhaps, in spite of all your fears about not knowing where He might take you, you may very well be driving yourself up a far more difficult terrain than what He has planned for you?"

I thought about my previous illness, my publishing journey in writing and illustrating books as well as my self-striving in terms of training in triathlon. I saw the common pattern of how my own ideas of success became my own stumbling blocks- caused me unecessary afflictions, anxiety and injuries. It was time-consuming and on restrospect, silly.

God wants to bring us to grander scenery- why do we fear? He wants to take us on the best ride. His cross for us to bear may not be as big as the ones we impose on ourselves.

"So yea, continue to let go. Let Him take over the wheel."

Towards the end, I brought up an issue which I had been thinking about a great deal over the past few months. About a friendship which I wanted to cut off and abandon because I was too afraid.

"I mean, this is crazy. What's going to happen?"

"Precisely. You don't know. Let God decide, let Him drive. Because when you do, you'll feel a sense of freedom."

"Aw man, no. You don't understand, this is a mountain coming. You said that my life is full of roller coasters, didn't you? This is, for sure, going to be a huge mountain and He's driving me right into it! I haven't been able to stop it, He drove me right into it!"

"Who said life was about avoiding mountains?"

"Ah, I see. So it's about climbing the right ones."

"Exactly. And as far as I'm concerned, this is the one opportunity where you can finally give God the chance to show you that He's a better driver than you."

Okay God, I'm getting out of the driver's seat and onto the passenger seat. But before you take off and hit the road, let me fasten my seat-belts. I know you're a safe driver and will never let me come to harm, but I know, you're a much bigger adventure junkie than I could ever be.

Let go. Let Him take over.

And hang on tight.

“For this is God, our God forever and ever;
He will be our guide even to death.”
- Psalm 48:14

The Yellow Line.

*This post may be offensive.

When I saw this photo, I stopped. I just knew, it was the cry of millions and millions of girls and women who kill a part of themselves everyday, consciously or not, to stay on that fine yellow line which society draws for them.

If you are female, I am sure you, like me, will resonate with it.

Once, I used to hate my body. At one point, I hated it so much that I fell very, very ill. But now that I'm well, and constantly check on my thoughts and habits to make sure I never go down that slippery road again, I've come to discover, that even the normal baseline of self-acceptance and self-consciousness among the majority of females is light years away from a place of freedom and abandoned love.


We are so self-conscious.


I grew up with boys. At any one point, I think I had more guy friends than most of my girlfriends did. Perhaps it was just that I really enjoyed running around with guns and bows and arrows and pretending to a be a superhero with them. Or maybe it was that when I wanted to be Sleeping Beauty I always kept it secret because I was too much of a tom-boy to admit it. And when we grew up, we just stayed comfortable around one another. Anyhow, I was often teased, and I grew, unfortunately, to become astutely aware, perhaps a little too much, of the male psyche.

That made me afraid. Because I learnt that most boys, even if they're my buddies, don't know how to respect a real woman. Few men do.

Last Sunday, on the front page of the papers, was the headline "Anorexia at 8". It looks like that thin yellow line has left its mark on our children, too.

Damn it. Have we lost?

Have we forgotten that we were each made differently, that our source of security and love comes not from the approval of others but from ourselves and God? Have we forgotten that a real man would love us for who we are and not how much we weigh? And even though it's great to live a healthy lifestyle and eat nutritiously, how many of us know that that by itself doesn't get you Jada Pinkett's body?

I exercise. I should know. Trust me, that body you want doesn't come from a healthy lifestyle. It's called having good genes, a celebrity lifestyle and a personal trainer with a full-time training programme. The body that we try to obtain comes with awkward self-consciousness, painful self-denial and unrealistic cheating.

Why do international surveys show that a majority of women hate some parts of their bodies. Have we lost?

I admit, it has always been my legs. Then when I started doing triathlon, it became my sun-dried, chlorine-soaked hair.

Have you tried balancing on a thin yellow line with sky-high stilettoes without losing your balance? It looks easy, but it really is back-breaking business. Not to mention, dangerous, too. One constantly feels one is on the edge of a fall.

Perhaps, what we really need is to throw away those red stilettoes and those blood-red apples, start loving our legs and feet and hair and boobs and eat real food, and to take a brave leap forward to realise that there really is no consequence to not toeing that thin yellow line that society draw for us. It is about taking charge, and making a conscious choice every day, all the time.

It might not be the fault of the media, or boys. We cannot push the blame. It is simply a bad mix of their gawky adolescence or ignorance, our media-driven society and our terrible insecurity.

When will it take us to see that every part of us is beautiful and complete as it is.

When will it take for us to realise that God's love is enough.

When will we learn to sit back and say, God, thank you for ice-cream, and thank you for my strong arms and thunderthighs because they help me walk and run and carry kids and spin them round like a merry-go-round.


I am trying, too.

Photo by Ian Ho

Modelling and concept by Wai Jia

Respect.

I heard about her during a running clinic I had attended yesterday. Everyone present had an old injury and were hoping to learn pain-free running. I ran alongside a Canadian triathlete going for a training course with KONA 2010 Champion Mirinda Carfrae. "Chrissie didn't compete this year," she told me.

"Who's Chrissie?" I said, ignorantly.

The KONA IronMan World Championships just ended. The IronMan consists of a 1.9km swim, a 180km bike ride, and a full 42.2km marathon back-to-back-to-back. This year, all-time favourite, nine-time IronMan race winner, and three-time KONA champion Chrissie Wellington didn't compete. She fell ill.

Thinking about the amount of time, passion and dedication invested in her hobby, sport and career, I can hardly begin to imagine the amount of anguish, disappointment and grief she must have felt on waking up only days before the event, the event she had trained and aimed for all year round, which her friends, family, supporters and nation had supported her to not only complete, but win.

A headache and a bad throat comes in forefront of a background of endless hours of gruelling training over the past year. What does one do? All that brutal training all gone down the drain. Or has it?

In life, the unexpected often happens. You plan for further studies but your mum falls prey to cancer. You plan a trip but an earthquake happens there. Life is foiler of our best made plans.

Have you ever had to let go of something you thought you couldn't? Or do you see these "foiled" moments as opportunities for growth and self-reflection?

She didn't compete. And for that, for her response to not competing, she has earnt my respect. In that decision, she has brought glory to the sport. She set an example for others, budding athletes and professionals, as well as normal people like us, to love and respect our body and to honour the sport.

For all that triathlon represented-her life and career and heart and soul, she didn't let it possess her. Instead, in view of circumstances, she let it go. She had amazing strength, but more importantly, beautiful, beautiful courage. She had the maturity, courage and humility to say, not this year. She understood what it meant- the letting go of something she had pressed on so hard for, with the risk of disppointing many who had placed their hopes and invested themselves in her. In spite of all that pressure, she said no.

I have seen many, many people go on race day with an illness or injury, because they couldn't let it go. To me, that is dishonouring the sport. Triathlon teaches us to respect our body, there is no other way to finish a triathlon- I should know. There are still a few more races I'd like to do which I have yet to complete.

When people talk about "loving their bodies" or "loving themselves", they tend to mean the external appearance. After all, how many times have you heard people hating their thighs, or their hair or their legs. I am guilty. But your loving your body also means its inside bits, not just the soul or the spirit, but the ligaments, the arteries, the muscles- everything unseen.

Riding at 40kmph again taught me the importance of respecting one's body. The Big boys did 3 loops down the coast. I did 2. And that was enough. I went home and finished studying what I had set out to study that day. That is honouring the sport. It is giving it its proper time and place in our lives.

And in doing that, we honour God.

In the previous video, in spite of how inspiring it all was, I was disturbed when the man said he was "happy" only when he had finished those races. I like to believe that the happiness came more from the journey of understanding himself and loving his community than from its achievements. Reading this about honouring one's body and one's sport was, to say the least, inspiring.

I still wake up some days wishing I had better legs, that I could run or swim or bike better, that my hair wasn't so dry and I was leaner, but more importantly, I've come to enjoy steak and the occasional burger every once in a while, and learn the importance of loving and respecting my body, inside and out. It means being able to push it, to allow some indulgence, and being able to say no, and to let go.

2011 will be a new race year.

"For you created my inmost being,

You knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

Your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you

When I was made in the secret place.

When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

Your eyes saw my unformed body.

All the days ordained for me,

Were written in your book, before one of them came to be..

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!

How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand.

When I awake, I am still with you.

- Psalm 139: 13-18

Buddies.

While working on the final touches of A Taste of Rainbow and finalising the thank-you page, I found myself heaving a sigh of relief when I remembered to thank a group of people I never thought of thanking before, and yet, were key to my recovery from clinical depression and anorexia.

I had thanked my family, my friends, the sponsors, the insitution, the church, God, but had forgotten to thank the group of people who probably had the greatest impact on the speed of my recovery.

Special thanks to:

my triathlon and cycling buddies,
who taught how to bike, and to enjoy food and life.

There was nothing and yet, everything spiritual about this. It intrigued me to find myself putting this line in between the lines of thanking my church and God.

When I met Mr. Ho, my ex-college teacher for tea today, he showed me a video. I didn't cry when I watched it, but I cried later that day as I thought about my cycling buddies, and God's timing in healing my leg and bringing the book to a new level of progress at the same time. Mr Ho said, "The thing that I take away from the video is the importance of community. When the man ran past the finish line, he hugged his dad."

I said something different. What I had taken away, was the celebration of the human spirit, but also, a sense of taintedness. Sports has tainted us, because we have assumed its pride and sense of individualism.

Later that day, however, as I pondered over many things while waiting for the train, I found myself surprised at a tiny trickle of tears.

I realised, that Mr. Ho was right, that what triathlon and cycling had given me, was not so much the achievement of the sport, or the glamour or the pride, but really, a sense of community, of belonging and love and cameraderie. And that was what saved me, what gave me confidence and assurance and friendship. The sport gave me a fellowship, a fellowship perhaps as strong or stronger than the church, that protected me from depression, because these people keep bugging me every once in a few days for a run or a ride or a swim. And when I don't show up, they text message, facebook, call me, or show up on my doorstep with flowers or food or just to say hi, can I use your pool? Haha.

They watch out for me when I ride, because I'm not a safe rider. They ride in front of and behind me just so they can look out for cars for me. They turn back when they don't see me. They make sure I enjoy the post-workout food with them. They take me out for icecream and drinks and to places I would otherwise not go. They bought me my new bike.

They don't judge me for my speed. And they don't force me to drink. They train early and so hardly stay up late. They don't make me feel like I don't measure up, even though they're fast and good. It's funny, I probably expose the most amount of flesh when I'm training with them compared to while I'm at work but I feel least self-conscious with them.

I'm really too embarrassed to share this with most of them because they're all big guys, like the macho type, and I know they'd just go like.... huh, okay. Cool.

When I watched the video again, I saw it wasn't his achievement which inspired me, as much as the sense of community and love that surrounded him, not at the end, but during his journey. I realised, that the most beautiful thing about sport, is not human endeavour, or human achievement.

It's human community. That's what saves souls.

Thanks for saving mine. See yall on the ride this Saturday.

Unless You Bless me.

She was a little old lady walking with a walking stick. But she walked in grand. There was a certain majesty to her, a certain royalty. She was elderly, but every bit of her was put together. With not a strand of her blonde hair out of place, she tottered in purposefully in sheer black stockings and black heels. Clad in rich fuschia, she was a powerful sight to behold.

She opened her mouth and everybody fell silent.

To be real honest I wasn't paying much attention. My mind was drifting away, wondering why my whole body, especially the sitting bones in my hip were so sore after yesterday's physiotherapy.

"Jacob... was a fraud."

That made me sit up at once. That voice boomed around the large hall and rang in my ears. I knew God was speaking to me. Suddenly, I felt as if everybody was staring at me, as if they all knew about the folly of my injury.

Jacob means "heel grabber". It is the name of man in a story of the bible who, on being born with his twin brother, was seen grabbing his brother's heel. It is symbolic because all his life, he manipulated and cheated others, strived on his own and did all he could to get ahead in life. He stole his elder brother's birthright, among other terrible things.

But in spite of being the rascal that he was, God had mercy on him. One day, disguised as an angel, God seized Jacob when he was alone and wrestled with him till daybreak. Finally, the angel demanded for Jacob to let go. But Jacob continued to wrestle, and finally said, “I won’t let you go unless you bless me!”

I wrote about this before. But today, I had a new revelation. The angel was God, and had told Jacob to let go because the light of day would soon come and seeing God face to face would kill him. But Jacob persisted. Because of the hardship he had been through, he finally came to the point where he would rather die than live without God’s blessing.

In desperation, the angel touched Jacob's hip which broke, and touched his sinew so it shrank, so that Jacob would finally let go.

That was a life changing moment.

From then on, Jacob’s name was changed to Israel. That incident changed him, to stop scheming or striving, to start giving rather than taking and to start depending on God rather than relying on his own self-centred ways. The name “Jacob” represents independence from God while “Israel” represents dependence on God.

Jacob. That wrestling match he had with God was a perfect reflection of how I suffered my injury. Like Jacob, I tore my 'sinew' and broke my hip, too. Like Jacob, I have spent most of my life striving to get ahead. Isn't that how we were brought up? Top the class in primary school so you can get to a good seondary school. Top your class in seondary school to get to a well-known junior college. Top the standard in your junior college so you can get into medical school. And now, with the new medical resideny curriculum, you better be the best in your class to secure that spot in that highly sought-after specialty.

The world, with its promise of bouquets and endless applause, eggs you on. Come on, YOU can do it.

Cycling was just a reflection of my life in other areas: We are always humble when we feel inept. In the same way, I was always meek when I first learnt how to cycle just 2 years ago; But once we're good in something, the fleshly nature and the spirit of self-striving often takes over. In the same way, I started to train more and more to be better at something I was now good at- after all, isn't it good to excel? Ah... thin, thin lines.

She went on. "Jacob was a cheat...

... a trickster...

... a selfish man."

She said each word with such deliberation and force that every syllable resounded painfully in my head, "Jacob... was a rascal."

That's me, said a voice in my head. That's me she's talking about. Oh God, no.

"Then how is it that later on, God says that he could find no sin in such a terrible man like Jacob? How is it that He was always by his side to protect him? Because Jacob wrestled with God, and was determined to seek His blessing. He didn't deserve it, but God gave it to him as a display of His love and mercy. God could have killed him that day. Instead, He blessed Jacob."

She continued, "The greatest blessing to receive in your life is to have God be your Personal Judge, for Him to deal with you, even if it takes pain and suffering, even if it requires Him to prune you in a season of barreness. Your greatest blessing is in knowing He will never leave you alone. If you are not good, He will find a good opportunity indeed to teach you a good lesson you will never forget."

I was stunned. Then, I remembered in dismay, that Jacob walked with a permanent limp.

Since my injury, I have not been the same: I am heavier for sure. I am the heaviest I have ever been in my life. I have had to adapt yet again to accepting my new body, and to cope with the residual damage that Ed left in my life. Undergoing physiotherapy and being still, helped me to see clearly how exercise was such a furtive form of self-indulgement, a source of pride, and a way to gain approval. It helped me see how tight and distressed my physical body has been because of overuse. Now, I ache after every session of physiotherapy because time is spent on releasing a lot of tight muscles not only in my injured site, but down the whole leg, the opposite leg, my back and my trunk.

A spirit of continual self-striving is destructive, indeed.

Finally, just when I felt sufficiently condemned and worthy to be stoned, the little old lady said slowly, purposefully, in a long drawl, "But we are ALL Jacobs."

Are you a Jacob too? Maybe you haven't broken anything, but do you feel tired, as if God is wrestling you down?

"But your greatest blessing is this, that God is committed to bringing you to the fulfillment of your calling. As long as you remain pliable and correctable, He will redeem, restore and release blessing in your life. Just as how through Jacob (or Israel, which was his new name) was blessed greatly, you will be too if you let God do His work of righteousness in you."

I was stunned. Didn't that explain that peace and joy I had within me?

Don't get me wrong. This injury has not been easy to deal with. I still have moments where I cry especially on friday nights when I used to get all my biking gear ready for my grouprides on Saturdays, because I know I might never ride again with my buddies like I used to. I have moments of moodiness because I feel unfit, fat, ugly or all the above. And I have times of shame in knowing that no matter what I feel, this is nothing compared to what many others have to deal with in life.

But the peace comes in knowing that through this, God answered my prayer. This has helped me remain focused on my final year of studies in medical school. This has freed me from the slavery of training and idolatry. This has helped me realign myself with Him. I am not happy with the pain and discomfort for sure, but I am joyful in knowing that I am closer to my calling. I am at peace in knowing that God is restoring me to a greater level of security with regards to my illness.

Cycling and sports was a means for God to teach me many lessons in life, a way to restore my eating habits and body to normalcy. And now that they have served their purpose, this injury has helped me to move on to other areas of development, which I would have neglected otherwise.

My old Jacob-self would have been ruined. But my new Israel-self says this experience is God's blessing. I must trust that it is.

At the end of the service, as she took her walking stick to leave, I went up to thank her because of what she illuminated to me about my situation.

"See this stick?" she said, "I had surgery some time back because of a cancer which wanted to take my leg. God sometimes allows illness in our lives because it's a way of refining and moulding us. We can be discouraged, defeated or in despair, or we can be determined. I chose to be determined. I told myself I would wear heels again." She smiled.

"I want you to remember this, that as absurd as it sounds, sometimes, being maimed is good. This body we have is so temporal. What matters is what God does inside of you. When we get to heaven, we shall all be restored. Remember, the evil one can take your body, but never your soul."

Tears started to stream down, but I knew she was right. That morning at Sunday School, I was scheduled to teach. Incidentally, the lesson plan required me to use an X-ray to illustrate the point that God can see through and into us, to refine our deepest motives. I used the pelvic X-ray of my injury and told them that God sees into our insides because that's what He's most concerned about. Now, the same lesson was being taught to me.

So no matter what you're facing right now, don't despair. Be determined, because like she said, God is committed to bringing you closer to fulfilling that calling in your life. Be brave and wrestle it out, and surely you will be blessed, even if or perhaps precisely because you held on until He blessed you.

I know He's preparing me.

Heaven, is near.

"It is better for you to enter life maimed or crippled

than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire."

-Matthew 18:8

"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.

Rather, be afraid of the One

who can destroy both soul and body in hell."

-Matthew 10:28

Temporary Assignment.

From afar, I thought she was 60.

She had dark, wrinkled skin which drooped in excess around her face and limbs, and a receding hairline. Her bedsheet, from afar, looked dirty and grimy.

But she was 20. Her sheets were dirty because of all the dry skin which had flaked off her body.

On a closer look, I then saw that her eczema had been so poorly controlled that dry, scaly skin carpeted not only her arms and legs, but had spread to her face, her torso, and her scalp. Her legs had turned into a dark, deep purple. Her hair was now falling out because of her dried skin. She looked tired, her eyes had a sleepy, faraway look, like old, old wine.

As part of my posting in the Infectious Disease department, my team was there to review her to see if she was in danger of a bacterial superinfection, since her friable skin all over made her susceptible to infection. Her case notes stated she lived with her boyfriend and had run away from home. She had cut herself before. The team raised their eyebrows. I did too. After all, aren't we all quick to judge. Another one of those cases, we tell ourselves.

After interviewing her about her medical condition, we found out she had grown up with her foster mother. Intrigued by this, I stayed back alone to talk with her.

Apprehensive, I fumbled a little. I wasn't sure how she would react to me.

"Hey, you tok like dat your whole life ah? So gentle so soft, how to hear you? Speak up la," she said.

So I did. " You're very strong," I said. "Living by yourself, at the age of 20, working and earning a living by yourself. You've got a lot of guts." We conversed in mandarin.

"Haa. If you were in my shoes, you'd survive, too."

"I'm not so sure about that." I meant it.

"Do you have any other siblings?" I asked.

"I'm an orphan. I don't know where my biological family is. I was born in Philippines, my foster mother who's a very old lady brought me up by herself. I was her only foster child. She didn't want to get married because she doesn't trust men."

" I see. Was she good to you?"

"Yea. Of course, she was a real nice woman."

"That's great to hear," I said. I then confided that I'd been seriously considering adopting children, so I wanted to learn more about her experience. (Don't worry, I do intend to get married when the time is right, and I think pregnancy is a beautiful experience- I just think there're a lot of unwanted children in the world who can benefit from being in a family.)

After building some rapport with M, I finally asked, "Why did you move out?"

And then came the onslaught. The truth which no one knew. The truth which was hidden, and so made everybody roll their eyes at yet "another delinquent case".

"She died. My foster mother died on my birthday. I was 14."

Silence.

"And it was my fault."

It was her birthday that day. Her foster mother and her had had a tiff. Feeling guilty for spoiling her daughter's birthday, her foster mother went out with another relative to buy her a cake. On crossing the road, her foster mother dropped something. She turned back to pick it up.

Upon doing so, a car hit her. And she died.

Time suddenly stopped. It almost felt surreal to hear a story like that, with such dramatic tragedy.

"Do you know what she went back to pick up? According to the lady who was with her, it was a key chain she dropped. It was the key chain I had made for her when I was in Primary 4, when I was 10. Why she would turn back to pick up such a lousy key-chain I made for her I will never know. But I know one thing, if I could turn back time, I would've just let her nag at me. I wouldn't have talked back to her that day. "

Since then, M started to work and study to support herself.

"You know, people at my workplace, at Kentucky Fried Chicken where I work as a cashier, they look at my skin, my face and say all sorts of nasty things- like I have AIDS or some dreadful disease. But I will always remember one thing my foster mother told me- that you can't take in all the crap this world has to give you. You just gotta know for yourself what's true and what isn't."

When I spoke to her, she was neither bitter nor resentful. That surprised me.

"How did you get by? Was there a force or some belief which helped you get by?"

"Duh. Of course. God, what else? I would've died otherwise. I believed in God the year my mother died. He's been watching my back ever since. I tried to commit suicide once, before I believed in God, but I now know, life is just a temporary assignment, a trial which we need to overcome. Surely God has a divine plan for all this. We just don't know."

We're so quick to judge. Perhaps now, we even judge her more harshly for believing in God and living with a boy et cetera et cetera. But have I considered her circumstance? Would I have done better had I been placed in her shoes? She is only 20, but she spoke with such wisdom, distilled only by the early cruelty of life.

I learnt a lot from her that day. I learnt, that resilience is a powerful force. But God is more powerful, still. How anyone could've survived through all those years of feeling abandoned, facing tragedy, loneliness and depression without ending their life, and even emerging with a relatively positive and mature attitude to life, without bitterness nor resentment, amazes me.

"I know He's watching over me."

We talked a lot more. The next morning, I gave her some things precious to me and a small handbook copy of "What on earth am I here for?" from "The Purpose Driven Life" by Rick Warren.

"I love it!" she cried.

"You know last night when I couldn't sleep and was asking God for forgiveness for all the stupid things I'd done, especially what I got myself into with this boy, I thought of you and pleaded to God for a 2nd chance. After I get discharged, I want to leave this boy. And get my life together again. Attend church, do something meaningful. I believe God has given me this terrible skin disease as a test, this is just a temporary assignment, and when I overcome it... ... "

I found the words she could not say, "... and when you overcome it, your story of resilience will be a great encouragement and testimony to the people around you. Your words will carry the power the words of another may not have, because you've been through something very special, God's assignment for you."

I thought about my old illness, my injury, my fracture and reminded myself of the same thing. I thought about A Taste of Rainbow and saw how it would have absolutely no power if I had not gone through and out of depression, since its message really is to be open about our struggles so we can seek help, move on in life. What's there to be ashamed of? So what if people look at you differently? Their time might come, too.

What we experience now, is merely a transient sort of suffering which is preparing us for a future. I like to believe, that the greater the suffering, the greater will be the divine glory which will be revealed at the end. Resilience, humility and an overcoming spirit are priceless, glorious things to behold in heaven.

Behind every book was sadness. Kitesong was written out of pain and disappointment, Rainbow was written out of pain and mental suffering, my third book which has been submitted to my publisher was written out of heartbreak. The fourth one is in my head. It will be written out of pain from my injury, and it will be about... bicycles.

He does not let any of our sufferings go to waste. Every experience is significant. Every trial is an assignment.

This morning when I went to see her to give her the book, I pointed at a page which said Your Life is a Temporary Assignment, just like what she had told me, and encouraged her to be compliant on her medication, because "if you can't take care of the little things God assigns to you, like this trial for instance, how can you expect Him to entrust you with greater things in life?"

We parted. And I realised as usual, that I had learnt far more from her than she ever did from me.

She helped me to see, that life on this earth is only but a temporary assignment, and if nothing here on earth satisfies that profound sense of emptiness in our hearts, it is only because... we're not Home yet.

For our light and momentary troubles

are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.
-2 Cor 4:17

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time

are not worthy to be compared with

the glory that is to be revealed to us.
- Romans 8:18

When life gets tough, when you're overwhelmed with doubt,

or when you wonder if living for God is worth the effort,

remember that you are not Home yet!

Life on earth is just a temporary assignment.

-Rick Warrens

Osteopenia.

Sitting outside the scan room with a group of little old women, waiting patiently for my turn in a green gown, was a... unique experience, to say the least. I remember the shocked look of the staff when she saw my face. In that room, they had scanned thousands of elderly, wizened ladies. But last week, I was there too.

I guess I should've known the results, even without the test. But the doctor insisted, so I relented. Osteopenia, you have osteopenia, my dear. That explains your fracture.

A little old lady's disease. Calcium sapped from my bones during those few years of illness. Now coming back to haunt me through a pelvic fracture I got while biking. Without a fall.

I wasn't sure what it was about the confirmation which made my heart sink, which sucked a cloud over my head. Maybe it was wondering why things had to be this way even though I'd tried my very best with regards to recovering, had thought that with the publishing of A Taste of Rainbow, that chapter of my life was closed; Maybe it was thinking about all that money and time lavishly spent on therapy, and the exasperation of having to deal with the consequences of the illness all over again; Maybe it was the injury playing in my mind like a bad video, the thought that I would never bike again, would never run.

It still hurts. How can the injury still hurt while walking, while at rest. How can the opposite side hurt, too. The pain keeps evolving.

I suppose, it taught me, how life very often turns out differently from what school teaches it to be. We are told that if we work hard, run fast and have willpower, we will finish the race tops. But I am learning, that working hard, running fast and sheer willpower only melt into nothingness in the face of God's displeasure.

It is not because of my own intelligence that I am studying to be doctor. It is not by my own hard training that I ended up enjoying triathlon. It is not by my own merit or determination that I recovered from my illness, am recovering.

I am learning, it is because I was fortunate enough to be parented by good people, had the opportunity to develop my strengths in a fairly good environment, had the chance to grow up in a place without war, famine or disaster. I am learning, it is because I was fortunate enough to meet friends who loved me enough to want to help me enjoy the sport. I am learning, it is because I was blessed with meeting angels who opened up their homes and extended their arms to me to embrace me, heal me, help me through bad times.

I am learning, it is because of God's grace and mercy in my life.

Last week, I dreamt I was in a triathlon. When I came out of the water, I was disqualified because I didn't finish the swim. I ran back to the water, wanting to finish it, but no matter how fast I ran, I couldn't reach the pool... ... I was frantic. A few days ago, I dreamt that I was running, but no matter how hard I ran, I couldn't reach the finish line. It made me see, that part of my subconscious is obsessed about finishing life's race, be it a physical or spiritual one.

But unless I acknowledge that life's races are completed not by my own will, or strength, but by realising God's blessings in my life, His grace and mercy, I will forever be caught in a hamster wheel of self-striving. Remember Jacob? God made him walk with a permanent limp so he would learn his lesson well. Oh Lord, have mercy.

In both dreams, I didn't finish the race. I tried so very hard.

It worries me. Will I finish the race in life? I'm about to graduate. Very soon, I'll be a doctor. People are scrambling to beef up their resumes, apply for their specialties, climb up the ladder. Would I choose to be caught in the rat race too, or realise that I've a different dream, my heart belongs to a different place, and that I've my own race to finish. Will I forget about missions.

I'm beginning to realise, how it's so easy to get lost in the endless race of self-striving. Wasn't that what we learnt in school, that the harder we try, the more we will achieve? Go faster, try harder. You can do it.

I am learning, that ultimately, we are where we are because of the blessings we have received from others, from God. I am where I am today, with an injury or not, because I didn't get struck by cancer last year, didn't get raped on a holiday overseas, didn't get killed by my illness a few years ago, or on a bike by a drunk driver.

My injury taught me many things. It is still teaching me things now.

So if you suddenly feel like you've hit a wall, that you're so tired trying to get ahead of everybody else, so exhausted from running, just remember that you are where you are because of a force greater than yourself which allowed circumstance and chance to be in your favor. And if you came to a point where you, in your own self-striving got injured, struck down, burnt out, just remember, that God's mercies are new every morning.

Someday, I will wake up with a dream with myself at the finish line, and it will not be because I had the most willpower, or ran the hardest, not because I cured myself of osteopenia by popping calcium pills or because I achieved this much in life doing this and that by myself, but because of the mercies of a God who loves us enough to promise that He would see us through till the very end.

Perhaps, when that day comes when I truly understand this truth, it will be a miraculous moment of healing for me, both physically and spiritually. Perhaps that day, God will let me run again. I still pray.

So close your eyes, and don't be afraid to dream, for He will see you through till the very end, too.

For He says to Moses,

"I will have mercy on whomever I will have mercy,

and I will have compassion on whomever I will have compassion."

So then it is not of him who wills,

nor of him who runs,

but of God who shows mercy.
-Romans 9:15-16

10 out of 10.

Nothing prepared me for the intensity of the pain. It hit me like a dummy crash-car into a wall and strangled the life out of me, draining strength from my legs, tummy and chest. God, what is happening?

The pain came at the wrong time. I was on my way to deliver groceries to Uncle Z. A day ago when I checked in on Uncle Z, he said that his son had run away. His 20-year old son had threatened to take all the furniture in their one-room flat except the bed, and said he wanted to move out. Uncle Z had just been discharged from the hospital for another near-death episode as he does not comply with his blood-thinning medication, essential for his condition of having 2 prosthetic heart valves from previous open-chest surgery. His wife, Mdm N, was diagnosed with severe hypertension and dementia last year. Uncle Z said, "Ever since our son left, she cries every day. She sings and cries, sings and cries."

My friend, D, had agreed to come with me and pray with them. My pain lingered, I tolerated it, but even D could tell I was suffering.

"You okay?"

"Yea," I said, in between breaths, "This is very unusual, I never have this sort of pain normally. But I got to say, this pain, is definitely worse than the pain of a half-marathon."

By the time we reached Uncle Z's home, and sat to chat, I knew the pain was only growing in intensity, but I kept a straight face, and Uncle Z didn't suspect a thing.

As soon as we left and his door closed, my upper body collapsed in pain. I then realised this was what guys are most afraid of hearing, "D, I think it's cramps. Crap. I usually never have pain- at all. This is really unusual."

D had to rush back to work, and so left me. He knew I'd be okay. I knew it too.

Little did I realise that the pain only worsened. By the time D had left, I could hardly walk.

God, I said, you have such a sense of humour. Today's the first day I don't feel pain in my fracture site and this is what you replace it with? Okay, like, please talk to me now if there's something you're trying to tell me. My ears are peeled.

At once, the words of my physiotherapist, AL, rang in my ears.

That day as she meticulously recorded the events of my injury, she asked, "When did they do the X-ray for you?"

"About 6 weeks post-injury."

"What? How come they didn't do it immediately?"

"I guess they weren't really suspecting it. They said muscle tears can be excruciating, too."

"What was your pain score at the Emergency department?"

I remembered myself being in so much pain I had to be put on a wheelchair. "I told them 8 out of 10."

"Really? It was 8/10? You sure? Then how bad was your pain 6 weeks later?"

"Er... 4 out of 10."

"Yeah right. They won't do an X-ray 6 weeks post-injury for a pain score of 4/10. It was more like 6/10, wasn't it."

"Maybe."

"Trying to be a hero."

Trying to be a hero. Yeah.

It was then, in the spasms on my pain, that I suddenly realised that therein lay pride, too. As my menstrual pain escalated progressively, I felt God was showing me what a pain score of 8/10 really was, and what the pain that day should've been.

It was 12 out of 10. And I only took 2 tablets of painkillers, refusing the rest.

By the time I had realised this, people at the train station were watching me and giving up their seats for me because I probably looked like I was about to collapse. As soon as I reached the train station near home, I bought Paracetemol, then deliberated about taking it. It's the freaking wrong time of the month for this sort of pain, I cursed inwardly. My pain score continued to increase, it went beyond 8/10 to 10/10. I could hardly stand anymore, much less walk. So I took the medication. Shortly afterward at home, the pain left. But I was so tired it felt like I had just finished a triathlon.

Today's pain taught me, that I really do need to surrender, more things than I thought. It taught me, that I have deeper idols to release.

Yesterday, I read that while our idols can be money, possessions, people etc, within us lie deeper idols, such as a sense of security, control or vanity. As I sat at the botanical gardens this week watching swans go by, I suddenly realised that the deepest false god in my life was not anorexia, or sports, or myself, even. It was a sense of needing to be in control. When things at home started to spin out of control years back, Ed became a way to regain that sense of stability; I enjoy cycling and long to learn horseriding because that sense of control on a bike, an animal is incredible; but the scariest revelation I received as I prayed was that, I am single, have been single, largely because...

... it gives me a sense of control. Being in a relationship makes me feel... vulnerable, and out of control. Who's to say the person doesn't turn out to be a jerk? I've met them before.

What is your deepest idol? Look at the patterns in your life, identify all your false gods, then see if you can find something in common. I did.

These days, I have been praying for God's mercy, that I will learn these lessons now and not when it's too late. I pray I learn to let go of self-sufficiency and the importance of a strong spiritual core before I rip my muscle again and cause a recurrent fracture. (The fracture was a non-contact injury- it broke where the muscle was attached too because the muscle tore too forcefully.) I pray I'll learn to destroy Aphrodite before she destroys me. I pray God'll help me to trust Him for my life partner and not let me realise this when I'm 45 and dying of loneliness in a mission field.

I have spent the last week by myself. It is our break now, my parents went overseas, my good friends are attached, some getting married, and I was unable to train. Some days were depressing. I had a lot of time to myself, and for one of the first times, wished someone would drive me out on Saturday night with the likes of Coldplay and Beatles on the stereo to Dempsey Hill for waffles and ice-cream.

God has never let me down- every time I prayed for company, like today in delivering groceries, someone always would show up. But I realised, that in the tough moments to bear, only someone who really loves you would go the extra mile for you. I don't blame D for returning back to work. But I know when I was hobbling home in pain, I really wished someone would call a cab for me, lug me back home, buy Paracetemol for me.

Today's pain showed me that I have to surrender. I need to learn how to say God, I am weak. I need help. I can't do this on my own. I have to realise many factors in life cannot be controlled. I cannot control when or how severe my menstrual pain will be (who cares if it's the wrong time of the month?), I cannot control who will love me and who I will love in return. I have to stop chasing things which give me a sense of control and security, because that pursuit will ultimately end in an uncontrolled manner.

God, not me, controls my life.

And I guess what I'm most relieved to know, is that He who controls our lives is indefinitely loving and kind, righteous and true. So because of that, I can let go, I can say okay, I won't resist You or love or run away anymore.

Because of that, I can finally say, I'm broken, and my pain score was 10 out of 10.

"If you are too afraid or too enamoured by love,

it has assumed godlike power,

distorting your perceptions and your life."

- Timothy Keller, Counterfeit gods

" Be shattered, O you peoples,

and be broken in pieces!"

-Isaiah 8:9

Loving Amy.

I suppose, you can figure out, why there's more than one reason I like this video.

Enjoy.



Things which don't matter:

1. thunder thighs

2. flat feet

3. big hair

4. bad nails

5. crooked teeth

6. hairy skin

7. chubby cheeks

8. stubby nose

9. big butt

10. small boobs

11. boyish calves

12. stretch marks

Because only one thing matters:

We are dearly, dearly loved by the Creator of the Universe.

(I wonder if God rides a bike.

Just, wondering.)

"... for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works,
And that my soul knows very well.
My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth...

... How precious are your thoughts to me, O God!
How great is the sum of them!"

-Psalm 139:14-17

On my knees.

Shrugging it off, keeping a straight face and acting strong about it was not courage, but pride. Perhaps it was for my own sake that I always kept a strong front and said, "It's okay, I'm fine. No problem, God is good."

I didn't realise until today, while sitting in my physiotherapist's room, just how much it hurt.

"How've you been doing?"

"I'm good, it's no big deal," I said. Then the tears came and wouldn't stop, and I was surprised because I had never cried that much about my injury before. There were a few tears in the beginning, but I always stiffened up and told myself that it was no big deal.

Stop being such a wuss, people have all sorts of terrible illnesses and have had to cope with them. Think about the patient you spoke to today. She had a brain and intestinal infection from her medication for her inborn blood disorder and you don't see her crying and calling for a pity party, do you.

Today, I realised, that that was not courage, but pride. And until I could allow myself to fall apart at God's feet, to say I am sad, I am affected, He could not begin the healing work in my heart.

I'm sad about this fracture, that it's not healing well. Is that wrong? To know that I will not be able to do what I love, to run nor bike for a year, maybe more. To know that, like many athletes who have written about their pelvic stress fractures online, I may never run or bike properly ever again- contrary to what the doctors say. To know that anorexia had so much to do with this specific type of injury, that the illness has returned to remind me of its evil. To be constantly reminded of the pain when I'm walking and even sitting.

"Let's work around this. What would you like to do? You can always find substitutes. I know a very good aerobics class teacher, and also, we have... ... "

But I didn't want to. Deep down inside, I knew God's message for me this season was to rest, not to run around finding replacements for what He intentionally took away. This is a season for throwing old crutches away so I can truly find what ought to be important to me- God. This is a season for me to realise that unless I learn my lesson to stop self-striving, to appreciate the art of living life with balance and in moderation, I will keep making the same mistake of hurting myself, over and over, in different ways.

"No, I'm through with this. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm hanging up my bike. I don't want to do this rehab thing anymore- it's not helping, it's giving me pain."

I think she knew that I knew that they knew very little about pelvic stress fractures.

"... I think you've hit more than a road bump. You've hit a wall, haven't you?"

Yes, so I have. This is it, God. This is what you wanted right? To have me on my knees. After all, this was what I prayed for, to learn humility and to always remain broken and contrite before you. You have such a sense of humour.

I wanted to skip my physiotherapy appointment today because we had class. But class got cancelled, and a random acquaintance on Facebook ( a paramedic I met a year ago) offered to drive me from my hospital in the west to my physiotherapist in the east- I wouldn't have made it otherwise.

And so you don't know how much it meant to me, to find your email when I got home. I was tired from crying, I wanted to sleep, and then your words gave me strength and reminded me that God provides us with strength through angels at every step of the way.

Dear Wai Jia,

How are you? I don't think you would remember me, but I wrote to you really long ago and you replied me with a whole long blogpost and two beautiful pictures I still keep printed and stuffed in my diary. Thank you so much for that reply, i never expected you would reply so wholeheartedly to a 'stranger'. I read and reread your letter, and I thank God for speaking to me through your words.

I still read your blog when I have the time and I think you are really an inspiration to so many of us out day who are trying to cope with this illness. I'll be doing my A levels in december, I never imagined even being here because two years ago, all I wanted was to take pills and sleep forever.

The stuff you shared gave me courage to visit a dumpsite in phillippines and i just broke down and cried over there, to see how the little kids can love God so much when they have so little....Dear Wai Jia, you're really brave and I know you will be a wonderful missionary doctor. I think you've touched many with the stuff you wrote, me, for one. I would love to be a doctor too, but sshhh, don't tell anyone because so many people tell me that it's impossible, especially with everything that has happened in the past. Sometimes, I feel like telling them that 'I know a girl who suceeded!', but I end up just agreeing I should pursue some other career.

Recently I read about your injury, I just wanted to say take care (: I don't have much beautiful words of encouragement to give, just that I'm sure God loves you so much that this is all His plan. Someone once told me that God gave her cancer so she could comfort those with cancer when she overcame it. Perhaps that is too, God made you go through all these so that you can share with so many out there. Don't ever underestimate the power of what you write...I am some random stranger in some random corner of Singapore, but I find HOPE each time in your writtings.

Please tell me if I could help anyway in the project of A Taste of Rainbow, it's a wonderful thought that people out there will come to know more. You're truly a rainbow to me, and to many others i'm sure... and may you always stay as one.

God bless you always.

With love,
T

Thank you, T, for leaving a note. Thank you for reminding me of God's good purposes and plans for our lives. I cried when I read your note, because these past few days, I've been meeting so many people who asked me pointedly, "So do you still want to be a missionary doctor?" and "When will you start seeing someone? Don't you know it's important to settle down? I don't think you're short of suitors, so what's the problem?"

I cried, because I find myself understanding the realities of life now, the burdens and tempatations and strongholds that possessions and the world can have on us. Even in the past year, I have changed, and I worry about the kind of person and doctor I am becoming.

I cried, because just today as I walked home from the hospital, I thought to myself, how foolish I have been to tell God I have no time to go out and do this dating crap because I am busy training and studying and doing my own things, and what's wrong with that, when the truth is that, I have too much pride. I'm fine by myself, God. All these people end up hurting me anyway. And then I realised, that unless I take the opportunity to humble my own heart in this regard, God could very well choose to break me in another way I least imagined.

Break me, not because He is sadistic, but because of His great, unfathomable love.

And thank you, T, for giving me a new perspective about my injury- that even though it hurts me to know that anorexia had a large part to play in it, that this can be an experience to strengthen not only myself but other injured patients and athletes. Interestingly, by divine coincidence, I bumped into a friend today, who's one of the top triathletes in our country. I shared with him the story about my injury, and he said his sister had suffered the exact same thing. "She trains more than me, is skinny as a stick, hasn't even had her period even though she's almost 20 and had a fracture on her inferior ramus some time back. "

Thank you, T, for reminding me, that my story isn't over, and I have a responsibility, to myself, God and others, to get well. Even this fracture, is part of the Rainbow story that has yet to be finished. I have to admit, I'm falling apart, but it is in a good kind of way, in the way I had prayed for. I'm so, so glad you had a memorable time in the Philippines, and I hope that won't be your last trip.

Okay God, you win. I surrender. This biking thing is over, I'm hanging up shoes up, and I'm on my knees.

"Woe to the obstinate children," declares God,

"to those who carry out plans that are not mine, ...

This is what the Sovereign God... says:

"In repentance and rest is your salvation,

in quietness and trust is your strength,

but you would have none of it.
You said, 'No, we will flee on horses.'

Therefore you will flee!

Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you;

he rises to show you compassion.

For the LORD is a God of justice.

Blessed are all who wait for him!

How gracious he will be when you cry for help!

As soon as he hears, he will answer you.

Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction,

your teachers will be hidden no more;

with your own eyes you will see them.

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying,

"This is the way; walk in it."

Then you will defile your idols overlaid with silver and your images covered with gold;

you will throw them away like a menstrual cloth and say to them,

"Away with you!"

-Isaiah 30: 1-2, 15-16, 18-22

Just so I remember.

* Letter pubished with permission

Hey Waijia,

I'm not sure if you remember me. I came to support group with X about a year-ish ago and at that point, I think you had just recovered... I remember the initial impact you had on me- that you were a genuinely caring person that I could trust and would want to be in contact with. And I remember texting you and talking to you.

At that point, I was still really sick and really far and distant from God. You invited me to church countless times, asked me out, constantly reassured me that everything would be okay. I knew you cared, and you seemed to understand, but at that point, God to me, was just there. He wasn't real. He was just some figure that I guess had somewhat of a role to play in everything. But I had no real relationship with him, he was more of an authority figure with a fullstop. Not a friend, not a father and it just scared me to think of him to be anything more than that- I didn't want to commit or deal with more hurt than I had at that point, that I continue to have. I can't remember when we exactly stopped talking but I just want you to know Ive been reading your blog, and sometimes I even see you around the hospital...Yeah, sad to say (I guess..), I'm still looking and trying to recover.

But recently, I'd say, its been different, I've DEVELOPED and grown so much in God and with God and I think I'm really starting to learn that he plays a role in my recovery. That I need to recover for him and can only do so through him.

Theres so much I want to say through this email but mainly, I guess thanks :) Thanks for being there at that point, thanks for writing and I just want you to know how much of an inspiration you are to me (and I'm sure many others). Reading your blog gives so much hope and its just incredible :)


Cheers and God bless!


XX

P.S: I just have a pretty random question, was it more a process for you? Or was it just a "great awakening" one day? In terms of realizing that you had to fully give it up and surrender it to God?

Thank you for making a difference to my life, too dear. And for letting me know my experience was not for naught. In the same way, your experience will also help someone else along the way someday.

To answer your question, Recovery is all about Process. Walk your journey with God.

Love.

Near midnight, I received a text message from a face I hardly talked to:

Hi Wai Jia, I was reading your blog and am greatly encouraged by your writing. Thank you for sharing so richly :)

Thank you for your precious words. They mean much to me. I just want to remember these 2 letters which came in yesterday so I can read it again when someone hits me in the face in malice about my writing, which does occur from time to time. Philip Yancey says it takes 17 postive letters to erase 1 hate mail he receives, ha.

Thank you.

Hungry.

I am fascinated by hunger. Perhaps, it has something to do with its spiritual connotation as well as those 2 years when I was so ill because my body was starved.

Perhaps, no other feeling so primitively and viscerally puts us on the same level. Whether rich or poor, kingly or scorned, hunger brings a man down to his knees all the same. I always wondered why we were made this way- to eat, only to be hungry again so as to eat. Take away food, and a man becomes weak, angry and hostile.

I have been fascinated by fullness. Because for 2 years during my illness, I had no idea what it meant, or felt like. I was in a state of both physical and spiritual anorexia, refusing to partake of food out of fear, pride and anger.

Perhaps, my fascination with satiety also has something to do with how beautiful and tragic that single moment is. It is beautiful, because the satisfaction of a deep need such as hunger is beautiful. Haven't you felt that immense sense of relief and joy when you eat on a hungry stomach and reach the place of satiety, that giddy place of security and satisfaction? You may not realise it, but to be filled means that one was willing to be humbled by one's need for food, that one loves oneself enough to feed one's body, that one is willing to surrender to one's basic need and admit one's reliance on something so... simple. That moment is beautiful because it represents humility, dependence and surrender- things that once eluded me.

Yet, fullness is also tragic, because... one no longer hungers.

Can you imagine being full for the rest of your life, with no longing or craving for the next meal-that yummy chocolate dessert or hearty sandwich? It would be tragic, wouldn't it? We'd no longer look forward to dinner parties or mealtimes to bond. Not only are mealtimes such potentially beautiful occasions for sharing, bonding and good cheer, they remind us of how fragile and dependent we really are. Take away hunger, our need for food and company and our need to simply crawl away from the hustle and bustle of the day, and what are we but invincibly senseless robots.

Hence, hunger is a gift, too. Without it, how would we gain the nourishment we need to grow?

My physical hunger in the past month has amazed me, really. I kid you not when I say I have been feeling hungry and eating every 2 hours. The most common phrase I have been using must be, "I AM HUNGRY" and my friends are amazed by how quickly my stomach fills and empties. This is troublesome business, because it means I've to pack and bring food with me everywhere I go because I never know when a hunger pang will hit. I am eating, and still my weight is well controlled, if not dropping- my metabolic rate has rocketed because of training. When a hunger pang hits, that desperation for a morsel of food to reach the state of satiety is acute. More often than not, I want bread, and I want it now.

Yesterday, my church organised a huge carnival called Family Day at the beach to celebrate Easter. The event was organised at the spot where my training with my cycling buddies ended, and where my triathlon next week would begin. As I wheeled Faith over to the tentage, many of my church leaders saw her, were intrigued by my participation in triathlons now, and started talking to me.

It was one of the leaders, Peter, who asked me, "What are you hungry for, Wai Jia?"

And it stunned me. Right there in the blazing sun, that question wrecked me. Just the night before, in tears, I was asking myself and God the very same question. Why am I doing what I'm doing? What does it satisfy? Why am I in medicine considering these specialties? Why am I racing? What am I desperate for? Pride, pleasure... or God?

My spiritual state reflected my physical hunger- I am hungry to know God, to hear His voice and to feel His spirit.

We talked. Peter, after hearing Faith's story, said, " You're on the right track, Wai Jia. I have peace that God has brought you into sports for a reason. I have peace that you're on the right track."

"Really? Because I'm not sure where this is going, and I'm asking God if He wants me to continue."

"Yes, I have peace that you're on the right track. Keep going, but keep on hungering for the right things, for God. Honour God, and not your sport."

Silence.

"Peter... Am I... full?"

"No, you're half-filled."

And that was a good thing. Perhaps, there is truth, not only medically but spiritually, when they say one should always eat till one is half-full and not gorged. This is not only healthy, but has proven to prolong life and keep one's blood sugars stable.

It is a profound paradox, to be in hunger, to long for satiety, and yet, to enjoy that state of half-hunger to approach fullness. There is beauty in hunger because of a yearning to grow, to progress, and there is beauty in fullness, which reflects humility, initiative and dependence.

As I continued to wheel Faith to the large tentage, I was stopped again-this time, by Senior Pastor.

"So this is Faith you were telling me about?"

"Yes, Pastor Yang."

We had a long, long talk.

What amazed me was how interested Peter and he were to know about the race I had been training for next week. What amazed me was how important they made it sound. I struggle all the time with my sport- in the light of poverty, missions, spiritual hunger and my vocation, isn't this frivolous, selfish even? Why didn't they think likewise?

Peter said he had peace I was in the right direction because of how God had provided for me. He even asked me, " Is there one big race in your life you hope to race in?"

I was taken aback. It felt as if he could read my mind.

"Yes," I said, almost sheepishly and wondered why he even asked. So much training, so much pain- for what? Silly me. But I cannot deny, that someday, I dream of racing in an excruciatingly long race overseas, to raise funds and awareness for a worthy cause. I dream of climbing a mountain someday, a tall, tall, tall one.

"Then train. Finish your race," he said it in all seriousness. It almost scared me.

Just before I left for home, Senior Pastor came up to me again and gave me a half-hug. He knew how much this sport means to me, not least because it is recreation, but more importantly, how close it brings me to God, how it has healed me. It was sports that destroyed my life in those 2 years, and sports that God chose to use to restore my health and bring me to a level even higher than I had ever dreamed.

My training has made me hungry, so ravenous, not only physically, but spiritually as well. The joy, community of friends and zest for life that this sport has blessed me with just puts me in constant awe of God's goodness and grace.

Last night was the first night in years that I had dessert on my own initiative, all to myself, so utterly guiltlessly. I wanted an oreo cheescake with vanilla icecream and took myself out just to get it. I had the whole wickedly decadent thing all to myself. It was an emotional moment for me, to realise how far God has healed me from anorexia, and how my training buddies have been such a positive influence in my life. Unlike before, I now know how to recognise and admit my hunger and my needs, know how to articulate them, and know how to take care of my body.

Having that dessert was such a breakthrough for me, on so many levels.

I learnt, that when we train (output), we also need food (input). In the same way, even though I have been busy serving people, God has taught me the importance of taking time to recharge and nourish my own spiritual health.

"All the best for your race next week, Wai Jia," Pastor said, and smiled a big, fatherly smile. "Just finish the race, okay?"

I was really touched. "Thanks Pastor Yang. I will."

"And stay hungry for God." There was a twinkle in his smile when he said that.

As I took off on Faith to ride home from the beach at noon, because it was about to rain and because my tummy was rumbly, I was reminded of the beauty of hungering for the right things- not for possessions, or pleasures or pride, but for a place so intimate, and so close to the heart of God. And though it is tragic to be physically full forever, how I long for the day to be spiritually filled for eternity, now and forever more.

Happy Easter, everyone.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

for they will be filled.

-Matthew 5:6