Second service.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable.

Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken.

If you want to make sure of keeping it intact,

you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.

Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries;

avoid all entanglements;

lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.

But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless-

-it will change.

It will not be broken;

it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

- C. S Lewis

Love anything at all, and your heart will certainly be broken.

I suppose, it was only a matter of time I got hurt. I left church with a bad taste in my mouth yesterday. I wanted to cry but I couldn't. I love that place, the people too much. A few incidents shouldn't change things. Nonetheless, I was disappointed with what had happened. I felt like crying but I didn't.

I was about to leave when little Andrew, with his big bambi eyes popped up in front of me.

"Jiejie Wai Jia, we learnt a lot today."

I wasn't on duty teaching Sunday school so another teacher had taught his class.

"Oh really, that's awesome Andrew. What did you learn?"

"Er, we did a recap. Of everything!"

"Which was?"

" A recap!!"

I was about to leave when you gave me a big hug. You were so small your hands only reached up to my waist and your head was buried in my belly.

"See Jiejie Wai Jia, I have a box. I let Keean have the present. Cos I remembered the first shall be last and the last shall be first, so I took the box. And see, I've one sweet inside this big box. I like my box. Do you want a sweet?"

"No dear, it's okay. You save it for yourself."

His mother comes over, asks about his son in my class. I tell her he's WONDERFUL to have and she beams with pride.

"But I didn't teach him today, I wasn't on duty. I'll be teaching him next week."

"Oh," I said as an afterthought, "But I'm teaching the second service, not the first, so looks like I won't see you Andrew."

And then almost immediately, he turns on his bambi charm with mummy and says, "Mummy, can I attend second service next week? Jiejie Wai Jia is teaching during second service."

I am embarrassed by this, but his mother says, "Sure, Andrew. Okay."

And then just about this time I really feel like crying. Love you too, Andrew.

I love this place and the people too much.

Nobody's nobody.

"I'm not the nobody! YOU'RE THE NOBODY!"

"NOO!! YOU!! YOOUU AAARRREE THHE NOOOBODY!!"

That sounded like a situation which really needed a time-out. Both boys were tearing one another's hair out and yelling at each other like angry porcupines. The big boy was about 4 times the height of the younger one, but both were sizing each other up like gladiators in an arena ring.

"I'M the REAL Noah. YOU'RE the NOBODY!"

"NOOO! I'M THE REAL NOAH. YOOUUUU ARE THE NOBODY!!"

This went on, back and forth. Big Noah was 12 years old. Little Noah was just about 4. Both boys, with the same name, were arguing who deserved to be the REAL Noah.

Like boys, seriously, I wanted to say. You can fight about girls later on, but this? Man. But I reminded myself they were kids and that I used to say really dumb things myself (still do sometimes) and so instead I said to the two of them at Sunday School during church camp, "Hey! Who's calling who names?"

Both stopped. Then both started at once, "I'M THE REAL NOAH. HE'S THE NOBODY!!"

With the amount of vigor and conviction they both said it, you would have thought they were running for presidency against Obama.

"BOYS," I said firmly in my teaching voice, " Hey. Nobody's a nobody here, okay? You are BOTH precious to God. And you're BOTH the real Noahs."

Looking at Big Noah, I said very firmly, "Just because you were born first doesn't make you more real."

And looking at small Noah, I said, "And just because you're younger doesn't mean he's the fake one."

"Okay? Both of you listen to me. It's not nice to call someone else a NOBODY, okay? If you wanna talk about age and who's real, then both of you must be fake, because the REAL NOAH with the BIG ARK was born many many many years ago, waaaaay before either of you, okay? Look at this. You guys just did this exercise. What did you learn?"

I pointed to the charts the children had put up on the classroom wall. They had written down their confessions about how they had disobeyed God and how they could stop doing those things.

"Both of you, this is BULLYING. This is NOT KIND."

(Yes, I thought it was kind of scary reading the charts as well. Scary- both because of the content and the... grammar. )

Both fell silent.

Looking at Big Noah, I said, "Noah, I think Noah deserves an apology."

"Sorry Noah."

Looking at little Noah, I said, "I think Noah deserves an apology, too."

"Sor-wee, Noah."

"Noah, do you forgive Noah?"

"Yes."

"Noah, do you forgive Noah too?"

"Yes."

"Love one another. Remember, love one another, okay?"

It was hilarious on hindsight, and yet sobering, too.

And it reminded me, how like children, we can, so very often, learn a lesson then forget it almost immediately. It reminded me, how powerfully dangerous our tongues can be, how we use it aimlessly and thoughtlessly like children to maim one another. If only we knew how much our teasing and unecessary words brought destruction and not edification, hurt and not restoration.

Love one another. It reminded me of that ever resonant voice which would permeate through the walls of the orphanage in Nepal when the house parent would say over and over to the orphans whenever they got into arguments, "Love one another."

Love one another.

It was then that I realised, that the lesson was for me, too.

"If someone says, "I love God," and hates his brother, he is a liar;

for the one who does not love his brother whom he has seen,

cannot love God whom he has not seen."

-1 John 4:20

"For though by this time you ought to be teachers,

you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God.

You need milk, not solid food... "

-Hebrews 5:12

Highlight of Camp.

That morning, I saw A, the 7-year old charmer who professes to be her boyfriend and I asked him if he was okay.

"Are you happy?" I asked.

"YES I AM!!! SHE IS WALKING NOW!!!!"

I was just about to leave church camp early for another event when I caught sight of that familiar face, with a bright green, animal print bandana over her head. She was wearing the medal I had passed to her from my friend, who had a liver transplant 18 years ago and went on to do an Iron Man event. Last week she was bedbound, and a day ago, she was in a wheelchair. Now, she was walking, and very well, too.

"Just last night, someone prayed for us, that she would run with God... And you know, after being chair-bound, she got up and walked... So we've been letting her wear the medal the whole day," said her mother. "What you shared with us is such a great encouragement. It's such a precious medal from your friend."

" Yes. He won it by 1.7s at the World Transplant Games. He really wanted her to have it. "

And so there and then, I took a picture with you, just before you had to go for another round of chemotherapy. And that moment, was so precious.

You be strong, dear.

And that is how I have come to realise, I can never take enough pictures of my kids.




(My picture with you is with your mother :) )

By Grace.

I have been incredibly touched by the outpouring of love, prayer and encouragement unto me during these 3 days where I was cooped up at home nursing a torn muscle. The flood of text messages, emails and notes of prayer and well-wishes have lifted and strengthened my spirit. Today was a day of many tears, as I was wrecked by what I discovered about myself in quiet retrospection- how in so many ways and in many aspects of my life, I had misappropriated God's provision, love, favor to me.

Just like how I tore my gracilis muscle, I had misappropriated God's grace to me.

I was wrecked today, in a good way, as I saw how I had failed to be a good steward of many things in my life.

I just want to thank those of you who offered to drop by my place just to say hello, J who actually did with flowers and all, and of course, those of you who prayed with me, who gave me company and love and encouragement.

Thank you for all your messages, they brought a smile to my face as I struggled to find God's purpose in this all. These are just some that I'd like to remember:

"Everything works for good to those who love God and are called, according to His purpose. I'm very sure His purpose in your life is getting clearer and more defined.

Wai Jia, you will finish the race, this is for God's testimony, and for those who believed in you and supported you in this sport. But a new chapter shall be opened in your life for greater things. Only when you're out of your comfort zone, does faith come into action and take effect. And you'll begin on a journey of pleasing God and not people. My family will pray for your healing. Do come by church tonight. :-)

You take care, and ask God for provision as well.

Remember what I told you about P.E.A.C.E? PEACE will help you to know you're in the will of God.

Providence,
Enemies (or challenges, which will knock at your door),
Authority (who will help you respond to your encounters wisely)
Confidence (a holy boldness, to go forth and put faith into action,
Ease (you'll have the final breakthrough and be at ease)

Until, you reach this stage of at ease, you have a lot to pray about the will of God."

" ask God to make your unwilling heart willing when you struggle...its difficult..its really tough..I did that a couple of times, but I really learnt that when we HONOUR God with ALL our heart...He will ALWAYS HONOUR us.. :)"

"Hi Wai Jia, I just read your writing. You write so beautifully, there is so much depth and wisdom in you, that God has to intervene sometimes because you have the wherewithal within you to literally run ahead with your brilliance. :) Thank God that He stepped in to slow you down and make you think and meditate and consider. You have learned well and quickly, so now I shall join you to ask Him to fulfill the desires of your heart for this race- even though every motherly instinct within me wants you to rest this one out and wait for the next one.... :) "

And the one that made me laugh the hardest must have been the message from Fungus, the handcyclist:

"Hey doc, how's your ass? If you do go for the race, remember to have fun BUTT fight hard!"

My gracilis muscle is not completely healed yet, but something tells me, I'll be well enough soon, in time for Saturday's race, and soon be riding on Faith again.

Thank you for your prayers and love.

"For by grace you have been saved through faith,

and that not of yourselves,

it is the gift of God,

not or works,

lest anyone should boast..."

- Ephesians 2:8-9

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

And you thought horror movies were scary.

At Sunday School:

"What is your name?"

"My name is AUDREY."

"That's a pretty name. My name is Jiejie (big sister) Wai Jia. How old are you, darling?"

"I'm FOUR."

"What's your favourite colour, dear?"

"GREEN."

"Oh wow. Green! That's a lovely colour. Like this?" I ask, pointing to a flower on the white dress I am wearing.

A little frown, before she breaks out, "No, that's not green. That's ... TURQUOISE!"


"... ... ... What did you say?"


"TURQUOISE. That's not green. That's TURQUOISE."


"How old are you again?"


"I'm four. I'm four years old!"