Sinner Saved By Grace

I don't know who reads this blog.

It doesn't matter.

I find it more and more difficult to keep a written journal, so I decided, eh, why not just type it out.

The thing about digital is that storage can be gone. There could be many backups, but it may just disappear one day. At a click of a mouse, at a virus, at a global Internet meltdown...whatever you can think of.

Either way, I will still write down what I need to write down.

It's been a difficult and challenging yet crazy and perhaps exciting past few months. Ever since I switched jobs, I have been stretched to almost maximum. I was torn between ministry and work. I questioned myself a lot. I sacrificed a lot and didn't know what to do with all of the time spent. I've woke up in the morning, stare at the ceiling and wondered if I was doing the right thing.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my job. I think it's really exciting to learn new things under new bosses and in a new environment. It's been a great 6 months since August to be driving myself in learning new ways of doing things and discovering for myself strengths and weaknesses I've not known before.

But I was really busy. Not only that, September was the time when one of the ministries I served in started the second year of classes and which I am involved directly in. It was difficult trying to coordinate work, ministry and cell together. It was also the time when cell was having their annual cell retreat and I was one of the core organizers. It was difficult to juggle. And it really didn't help when I was discovering my affections for a certain person.

I frankly did not enjoy myself in September. I was tired out and people were trying to get me to relax, but how could I relax if things need to be done? I'm a bona fide Martha. I know that. But to me, my joy did not matter more than other people's joy. I guess I had a warped perception of joy.

Then October came. Fell sick for the first time since a long while. Thank God I recovered in time for my performance. But that is also when Christmas production started. Oh boy. That was a tough journey to be on. To juggle between work, trying not to fail at it, as well as producing the production. There were tears and difficult nights. But boy, oh boy, what a lesson I reaped.

My affections for the certain someone was crushed some when in October or November, I can't remember. With deadlines looming and greater responsibility on my shoulders, it was difficult to have my emotions in a rollercoaster. I wish all these could stop so I could take a breather. All the more I was trying to avoid people and desperately needing time for myself.

In the midst of that, I abandoned God somewhat. I didn't stop praying per se, I just complained and tried to bury my face in the ground where people would just stop talking to me and leave me alone, God included.

Funny how God will lead you back to Him when you stray. Whilst after production, December was more of a breather, I was still like Martha. Working, working, working. Even for Christmas presents, I was working, working, working. However, in December, I wasn't going to let this constant whirlwind take over my life.

Hence, I decided to call it the 'live, love, laugh' month. I felt as if I wasn't living, i was just trudging along. I felt as if I wasn't loving enough, that I was unforgiving and without compassion. I felt I wasn't laughing enough, because frankly, I had no joy. Work, to some extend, was a distraction, a release from having the need to love the people I love. Not that I don't like my colleagues, it's just that work was an easier excuse.

My friends, bless their hearts, were very encouraging. So December got by quite smoothly, sorta.

Then January came and my dear friend's wedding was one of the weekends. 2013 was the year I instituted the whole 'live, love, laugh' as my resolution, or life motto, whatever you want to call it.

It was really difficult.

I thought I have gotten over the certain someone. But I had not. My friend's wedding was a reminder of the person and how I have been longing and how I have been hurt. It was also the time when my friends grew comfortable with me being always busy, always Martha-ish and always poking fun at my own self due to my constant absence. And I was alone. I felt really alone.

Work grew. My responsibilities in work grew as well. I started to find excuses to skip social gatherings and cell. Work-related of course.

I was moving in a slow downward spiral. Yet at the same time, I was drawing back to God. Emotions were getting the best of me and I was angry at myself, bitter at people and I knew the answer could only solved by God alone.

So I sought Him, but in a selfish manner, again. I resented the idea of marriage, I was turning cold, even though I know in my mind that I mustn't let myself turn cold. I was tired and I was starting to take work a little for granted.

Those were some difficult weeks, yet God was there for me all the time.

I finally confessed my dilemma and my frustrations to my cell leader on Sunday after my MAG. She was understanding. She could identify and I believed that I was getting better.

And I was. To some extend. I decided to not work on the weekends, although I just casually did some small research. I decided to let rest be rest. And I started to make time for God, sorta. I understood the verse that when we confess our sins to one another, we find healing. I was finding healing. It was pretty amazing and astounding. My answer was there all along and yet I was blind to see it, until I really confessed it.

I was affirmed by God, knowing that He has a purpose and plan for me. I wasn't going to be alone. I wasn't going to walk this journey without Him holding my hand. If I were to become the woman He has created me to be, He will see me through. Right beside me.

Monday I joined a women conference that themed on submission. I find submission a really un-feminine word because of so much connotations that carries with it. But I realised, like so many other women in the room, I believed in a lie. Submission is not being a doormat. It's not being inferior and just obeying. It is done at an equal standing, to voluntarily give up my rights to do what is right in order to build a corporate goal. It is voluntarily. It is not forced. I can still have my opinions and speak them out, but I still submit to authority.

It was an eye-opener, especially when the speaker, bless her heart, spoke about submission can only be done when we are secure of who we are. I was not secure. I was ready to fend off and defend myself all the time. I was prepared to argue my case and stubbornly stick to my decisions. And I was easily hurt when I over-analyze a situation and based my emotions on one person's response. It was tiring because I was insecure. I expect the other person to be perfect, but he is also flawed. He is also a sinner, saved by grace, as I am a sinner, saved by grace.

And I don't need to be someone else. I don't need to compare who I am with other women. Sure, they can cook better, but that's just training and some talent. I don't know if I have the talent yet because I never practiced. Sure, they may be more gentle, but their gifting is different.

What blessed me the most was to really come back before God and knowing that my self-worth is in Him. And He is the most perfect. He will never leave me, nor forsake me. He will never find me an abhorrent creature because Jesus' blood has covered me. He has clothed me with His righteousness.

And when I look back at the past few months of pain, hurt and confusion, I now know that He is preparing me for a work greater than now, a ministry greater than now. I just needed to go through that stretching phase to come to a low point in my life in order to see how else I can manage that...with God's strength and grace.

The future will not be easier. Life is tough. But He is tougher. Hurts and wounds will come, but He will redeem, He will heal. And I believe that the healing process has begun since Sunday when He opened my tongue to confess my hurts.

I am still forgiving myself. I am still forgiving those who have hurt me. I am still choosing to let go. Once I head back to work, I will find that I would be back in the cauldron. But at least now I'm convinced that I will make it through. Because this God of mine is faithful. I am secure. No matter what people say, I am still a child of God. Of great worth. Apple of His eye. I am still learning that.

And now, also understanding God's purpose of marriage, I am convinced that it is a gift from God. I'm learning to open up my hands to receive the gift. I think, it's a beautiful gift. Because it's two sinners, saved by grace, learning to build one another to reach heaven. It's going to be tough because I may sound idealistic, but I think if both man and wife are willing to learn, I think it'll be easier.

I think that will be a beautiful journey.

But first, security in Him. So help me God.



Live.
Love.
Laugh.


Amen.

Lessons Learned

I was attending the church's morning prayer for the past week, save the past two days when I had to rush a deadline (work still unfinished though).

Yet, it was the past two days that I learned a lot from God. I guess praying really does help sharpen the vision and hearing of my spiritman.

So that's the first thing I learned. I am reminded that prayer is powerful and it really helps you spiritually. I really should devote more time to prayer, not just for myself but for the people around me.

Which leads me to the second point, the people around me. I am reminded once again that people around me are facing similar issues or worse in life. I am reminded to not be selfish and think about my own comfort and my need of encouragement. I think by being encouraging to others, putting others first, helps myself in the end.

For instance, I was stressed at work, but I neglect that everyone else are also busy with work and stressed as well. So I need to learn to be less whiny, less snappish and be more positive about everything.

Which leads me to the third thing I learned. I went into the elevator today just in time to witness a storm of a couple arguing, or rather, the lady was shouting at the guy. It was awkward to say the least, but immediately my thoughts turn to prayer for the couple, that they will sort out their differences. I was thinking, that's why I don't want to get involved in a relationship. But somehow the idea doesn't resonate as deeply as it used to be. Perhaps because prayer is part of the equation now. God is sovereign and if we look to Him and have Him as the center of the relationship, I think we can overcome.

Talking about relationships, I need to also learn to be more contributing towards my family, especially my parents. Since I'm the only child staying with my parents, I have to learn to alleviate their stresses as much as possible. Dad couldn't sleep last night due to some issues that's bugging him, but knowing my dad, he's a bit reluctant to say what. As a daughter, I need to learn to love him more. Same goes for my mom. No matter how tired I am, I should always be gentle with her.

Which all leads back to two things: prayer and generousity

Prayer is crucial to open my eyes and ears to hear the things of God and generousity to be unselfish, and to be more aware of the needs of others around me.

Yes, I should have my 'me' time, but we are living in times when time is running out to care for others. So help me God. Taking this one step at a time.

Losing Grasp

Let's not start with the "I meant to update this blog but..." stuff. Too cliche.

Lately I've been losing grip with my emotions. I find myself losing reins of them.

Don't like it one bit.

Or maybe I should learn to accept myself for who I am.

But I still don't like it one bit.

As of now.

*

If only you could see the conflict between my head and heart. I cannot betray my head yet my heart is wanting to be on the sleeve for you to see. So I have to choose my head this time. Sorry, heart. You will have to get a grip on yourself. I won't let you take the reins again. I hope if that day ever comes, you will be a beautiful ballet dancer and not me with two left feet.

*

I need to invest in a pair of underwater/waterproof mp3 player. Swimming without music makes me want a soundtrack.

Sherlock

Picture from Wikipedia

Since everyone is talking about the BBC Sherlock, I might as well hop on the bandwagon.

Warning: Spoilers ahead. Tread with caution.

Also, for the sake of clarity, Sherlock refers to the drama character, Holmes the original canon character. Same goes for John and Watson, respectively.

Suffice to say, it is one of the most brilliant screen adaptations, if not, THE most brilliant screen adaptation of one of the world's most famous fictional sleuth.

With everyone raving stars about it, I turn my thoughts to the criticism I have with the serial.

Of course the show was not perfect. Even the original canon was inconsistent with its own facts. Sir Conan Doyle must have not kept notes about his characters and their characterizations to raise many eyebrows with the continuity errors.

To be honest, I am only nit-picking. The show was all thumbs up and I enjoyed every second of the 90 minute-long episode for all three of the first season. I have not watched the second season. May revisit this post after I have watched them.

Picture from fanpop.com

Maybe I should start with my praises for the show.

1. Cinematography and Directing
I think the directing is one of the most splendid done for mystery serials. It is not cheesy, over the top or even achingly dull. The sharp shots, the different point of views, the parallel camerawork and the color and tone of the episodes marked the scenes with its own pacing even without the writing. I appreciate that the dreary tone of London as described by Conan Doyle (or London's tone is really that dull, I have no say in that) is carried across the episodes. Every scene is dogged by a mysterious aura, and the visuals tend to speak its own stories.

2. Writing
Of course, the main rave for the series really lies in the writing. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss (who also played Mycroft Holmes), co-creators of the series, really knew how to bring fresh life to a fictional legend that has been adapted to many media. Pacing was substantial (more on that later) and dialogue is quick-witted and sharp. Exactly how the real Holmes would react in most situations. Love the part when Sherlock scolded himself in "The Blind Banker" when he found out that he erred, because it was just like Holmes to chastise himself severely when he made a mistake. And I do like that the dear John Watson is given some smarts but not too much. He is still more humble and more accommodating than Sherlock Holmes himself. I love the juxtaposition of the characters, just as they are in the book.

3. Acting
Ah, Benedict Cumberbatch, you have grown since the last I saw you in Hawkings. You were always memorable because of your unique name. When I found out that you were playing Sherlock, I was excited because I couldn't wait to see you bring life to Holmes. And you played Holmes almost perfectly. Your seeming indifference to human emotion was carefully and skillfully nuanced with your panic when John was in danger. Martin Freeman plays a convincing Watson with some more kickassery in the book, though I always thought Watson to be a heavier man. Hee. Not even dashing Jude Law can change my perception of Watson's build. He carried Watson's easy-to-read emotions well and proved himself to be quite the loyal friend indeed.

Picture from sherlock.boardhost.com

Oh my gosh, that scene where Sherlock just smiles like a proud little boy at his handiwork on the wall, reflecting that silly smiley face on the wallpaper, after being chastised by Mrs. Hudson, is priceless. :)

Now onto the nit-picking.

Unfortunately I am with the critics on the 2nd episode, "The Blind Banker" in terms of pacing and plot, including characterization.

While I appreciate the references to the dancing men, etc, I could not help find it a bit lackluster compared to the pilot which kept me at the edge of my seat. While the deductions of Sherlock were a thrill to watch, the rest of the plot fell a bit flat. It became too easy to predict the next move (like the death of Soo Lin was so predictable), unlike the pilot which still surprises me a little. The characters were also inconsistent (from a heroine to a damsel in distress, that Sarah). I don't know if it was a tongue-in-cheek kind of way to poke at the original canon's continuity errors.

I am still scratching my head till this day as to why a powerfully connected black market trading triad could get such a simple case of identity wrong. I mean, if this was 10 years ago and if the set was set in the 1800s, I think you could have played that trick on the audience. But with the availability of Internet in the show itself and their invisible game master not being an idiot, they should not have gotten John mistaken for Sherlock.

Also, they being Chinese doesn't make them ignorant to technology. After all, if people like Lukis and Van Coon were in their network, surely they'd have someone who is technologically savvy, or at least up to date with the who's who? Besides, have these writers not heard of Level: Asian? ;)

For now, I don't understand what is DI Dimmock's role, other than to look ridiculously smarted and dumb next to Sherlock. Well, in the canon, we've had silly inspectors who are slow in the brain works but lots of brawn. I guess this is what I missed in the series that was not reflected from the canons. Holmes always display his impatience with the Yard, but he only complains about their weaknesses to Watson, though he does praises some of their qualities. There are of course, some times when Holmes pointed out some flaws to the inspectors' faces, but then he really was too busy with the energy of the case to trifle with the slowness of his professional counterparts.

Sherlock displays his impatience really well, though I do believe Holmes has always been more genteel towards Watson because he cherishes Watson's friendship and loyalty. In the series, Sherlock does shows a more friendliness towards John, with his more chattiness when he's with him, and eventually a deeper affection for his friend (although I thought that was a little premature to be appearing in so early a season, but this isn't the canon where you can talk about 10 other different cases before friendships blossom).

Holmes is always courteous but curt. He doesn't apologize but he does show some respect to the tradition and culture of the society then. Maybe due to the series being a modern re-imagining, the culture of society now is less defined, more shades of grey. However, which brought me to the point, again in "The Blind Banker", as to how come Sherlock apologizes when he bumped into the European tourists when he was hot on scent? When Holmes is hot on a scent, he is not one to be distracted by social courtesies, unless he was in a disguise (which we haven't seen Sherlock done any yet!).

Another nit-picking with Sherlock was most probably he saying about "gardens with teddy bear" when he and John were arguing about the Solar System, a nod to "A Study In Scarlet". I don't think Holmes would ever say anything like that for an analogy. I mean, if he could go into a nonsensical but eloquent babble about a rose in "The Naval Treaty", I'm sure "gardens with teddy bears" could have been more eloquent.

I do find the constant references to Sherlock and John edging towards homosexual relations a little tiring. I mean, can't they just be good brothers who are affectionate towards each other but not in a sexual way? If the books could do it, why can't the series do it? I know it's the current culture of London and such, but I do find that this was one that need not be referenced over and over again. Like John's alleged brother who turned out to be his sister. Unless Harry will appear in the future episodes, can we not have the need to make up an excuse of why John does not want to depend on his relative or that to prove that Sherlock isn't always right? I thought him failing a case (which I would presently see it in the loose adaptation of Scandal in Bohemia for Season 2) would be more than suffice to highlight Sherlock's weaknesses. But it's just me. I do think the references could be less.

But again, I am nit-picking. Even though Episode 2 was not as fun as the pilot, "The Great Game" picked up the final leg of the first season with quite a bang. I still don't see how the Bruce-Partington plans has anything to do with Moriarty (though I do suspect that Sherlock has already passed the real stuff to his brother and brought a dummy one, because Sherlock isn't stupid. And he knows Moriarty isn't stupid either. Play the game of intellect my two dear archenemies), but with that enigmatic performance of Moriarty by Andrew Scott, I loved to see the cliffhanger end the season so well.

Onwards to Season 2!

Picture from almostalwaysthinking

Best part of the show was when Sherlock goes deep into thinking and this picture paints a thousand words from his mind

Perfectionism

By sorrow of heart the spirit is crushed.

With the facade of a cheerful demeanor, I placed myself at the center of my misery.

What good is there in the end, but a crushed spirit and a broken resolve, left to its own devices. We push ourselves to pretend that we are okay, only to nurse a suffocating soul within. Before we know it, we gradually become asphyxiated, losing our vision of what is clear and our ears muddied in their hearing.

I often choke when I'm faced with my weaknesses. And these are only external weaknesses, that one can perceive but have hardly the ability to distinguish the real worms of destruction, gnawing away. Like maggots that feast on dying flesh, I often ignore the lies that seek their way in, or have already found an abode in my soul.

I'm reminded recently once again that I have explored this wound before. It's my black dog, the one that comes to haunt me every now and then. I always thought my wounds have healed, only to find out that I often pick at the scabs, unknowingly opening yet another opportunity for infestation and infection.

Oh I have tried so hard to resist and to be patient. I've tried to rely on the doctor, but before the surgery can begin, I freak out, thought I knew better, and ran away. So the wound stays infested.

Of course it has been better. I have less of those episodes for the past few years and I've always managed to overcome it because of the promise that I am more than a conqueror, due to the power of My Savior in me.

However, when the occasion arises when I start to believe in my own abilities of self-medicating, the wounds start to open up again. Then I find myself back in my pain and my sorrow, with added guilt and misplaced pride.

It's in these times when my spirit is crushed, I am thankful that my Savior wouldn't let me wallow for too long. But yet He gives me time as well. Lovingly, He'd watch from afar and see how far I would want to go to the edge of the cliff, without Him. With a gentle knock, I would fall and see that this particular cliff is only but a wave that washes away my carefully built sandcastle. My sand fortress crumbles to reveal the emptiness of my foundation and the frailty of my nature as human. I was too busy building the sand fortress to their exact dimensions and density, that I forgot about the material on which the fortress was build with.

During then, I could either sulk and rage over the wave or fall into a spiral of dejection over my miscalculations, my careful plans. But this Savior would pick me up, brush off the sand that are stuck to my hands and show me that He has a better idea. The idea of Him already build the house on the rock for me and all I needed to do was just to receive His invitation to claim the house as my own. However, I may stay there for a while and then I might think the outside world is a better place, so I go out and misplace the key. Again and again and again. Yet He will always produce the key again and invite me back home. Nowadays He would quickly knock the sandcastle down and produce the key because I already know the drift. I would always be grateful that He still gives me the key. No questions asked. Just the invitation to come home to the house on the rock that He has built. Even if I find myself unworthy to take the key from Him, He gives it to me anyway, telling me that the house is mine to dwell, no matter how many times I misplace the key. As long I come home. As long I let Him lead me home.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Rom 8:1

I need to meditate on that verse more and more.

Ebullient

I haven't been reading Owl City's Adam Young's blog for a while. I really like reading his blog because he writes with a lot of heart and thought. I noticed that many artists I like do write eloquently and with a certain degree of mature insight. Even if it is an emotional post, they paint their emotions so well with words without being overly emotional. You can just feel their pain or their excitement just by the choice of words they use. Or maybe that IS why I like them. I hope one day I will write as eloquently as them, paint my emotions with words. Someday. Someday.

But that's not the reason for this post.

Young recently wrote a post about loving Christ so much that the joy of his dreams, passions and ministry PALES when they are compared to the beauty of knowing Christ.

I admit I often slip to the other extreme, and placing God in the outer circle of my passions. Like I try so hard to separate Him from my other passions. "Oh, we're doing secular songs this round, so erm, I don't know how to glorify Him, so let's just leave it at that." "Oh, we're singing in church. Holy holy holy."

I know it is quite normal to experience this sort of discord, but like Young, I want to move from being passionate about my gifts and ministry alone, to be so much more passionate, if not, most passionate about the Saviour of my soul.

I want to have my mind blown every time I hear and read about Him. I want to be bubbling with so much joy (ebullient!) each time I get to know Him more. Like how He is ebullient when He thinks of His children. If heaven can rejoice over one who repents, it must be that God loves us so much to throw a party each and every time someone turns back to Him.

I need to love You more.


Young's ebullient article here: http://owlcityblog.com/2012/06/04/ebullient/

Bright Lights & Cityscapes

Sometimes I wish I can dance. Right now I will only watch the figurines in my mind. Watch an unveiling of a desiring heart. A hand that reaches out hungrily. A tear that falls from the corner of her eye.

Somehow deep inside, there's a voice calling, "Don't go."