Storms rock. There's the sunshine afterward to look forward to.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
My God Is...
I love reading. And while I was on one of my reading frenzies, I happened to stumble across this excerpt from a sermon by Dr. Shadrach Meshach Lockridge, which is entitled ‘My King Is…’ which summarizes everything anyone needs to know about the saviour of souls, Jesus Christ.
The Bible says my king is a seven-way king. He’s the king of the Jews; that’s a racial king. He’s the king of Israel; that’s a national king. He’s the king of righteousness. He’s the king of ages. He’s the king of heaven. He’s the king of glory. He’s the king of kings. Besides being a seven-way king, He’s the Lords of lords. That’s my king. Well, I wonder, do you know Him?
King David, one of the greatest kings of Israel in that time period, had this to say, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handiwork.” My king is a sovereign king. No means of measure can define His limitless love. No far-seeing telescope can bring into visibility the coastline of His shoreless supply. No barrier can hinder Him from pouring out His blessings.
He’s enduringly strong. He’s entirely sincere. He’s eternally steadfast. He’s immortally graceful. He’s infinitely powerful. He’s impartially merciful. Do you know Him?
He’s the greatest phenomenon that has ever crossed the horizon of this world. He’s God’s Son. He’s the sinner’s Saviour. He’s the centrepiece of civilization. He stands in the solitude of Himself. He’s honest and He’s unique. He’s unparalleled. He’s unprecedented.
He is the loftiest idea in literature. He’s the highest personality in philosophy. He is the supreme problem in higher criticism. He’s the fundamental doctrine of true theology. He’s the core, the necessity for spiritual religion. He’s the miracle of the ages. Yes, He is. And not only that, He IS! Without beginning, without end. He’s the superlative of everything good that you choose to call Him. He’s the only one qualified to be our all-sufficiency. I wonder if you know Him today.
He supplies strength for the weak. He’s available for the tempted and tried. He sympathizes and he saves. He strengthens and sustains. He guards and He guides. He heals the sick. He cleanses the leper. He forgives the sinner. He discharges debtors. He delivers the captive. He defends the feeble. He blesses the young. He serves the unfortunate. He regards the aged. He rewards the diligent. And He beautifies the meek. I wonder if you know Him.
Well, this is my king. He’s the key to knowledge. He’s the wellspring of wisdom. He’s the doorway of deliverance. He’s the pathway of peace. He’s the roadway of righteousness. He’s the highway of holiness. He’s the gateway of glory. Do you know Him?
Well, His office is manifold. His promise is sure. His life is matchless. His goodness is limitless. His mercy is everlasting. His love never changes. His word is enough. His grace is sufficient. His reign is righteous. His yoke is easy and His burden is light. I wish I could describe Him to you.
He’s indescribable. He’s incomprehensible. He’s invincible. He’s irresistible. Well, you can’t get Him out of your mind. You can’t get Him off of your hand. You can’t outlive Him and you can’t live without Him. The Pharisees couldn’t stand Him, but found they couldn’t stop Him. Pilate couldn’t find any fault in Him. Herod couldn’t kill Him. Death couldn’t handle Him, and the grave couldn’t hold Him. That’s my king!
And Thine is the kingdom and power and glory forever and ever and ever and ever! How long is that? And ever and ever! And when you get through with all the forevers, then amen! Good God Almighty! Amen!
I share this excerpt with you because I want people to know exactly who it is I serve. And here’s something you should know: when I read this, once I reached the end of the excerpt, what else could I say but:
AMEN!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Rumour Weed
Something's growing, and it doesn't bode well, at least for me, and two other people I can think of who might be directly affected by this.
I couldn't care less, of course, but who knows, because of this, perceptions might alter, feelings might change, and the whole world might turn upside down in one night. Who knew the Rumour Weed could stretch as far as the other hostels?
All I can say is, whoever the person who gave the Rumour Weed fertiliser, I plead with you to stop it, although the chance of you reading this post is really low, unless you are one of my regulars, which is highly unlikely, as as far as I know, I have only 6 regulars. The rest are just random searches or something.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Half Blind
If anyone ever wants to know what it feels like to get sulphuric acid right in your eye, mail me. I can give a first hand account.
And so it was that the class was doing the mock SPA (that's the practical assessment, for the non-Singaporeans), and by some coincidental twist of fate, sulphuric acid got sprayed right into my eye.
The natural first thought is that it's just water. I mean, what else enters the eye, right? But then, suddenly, your vision goes white, and you feel this incredible burning feeling that feels just like when you get soap in your eye, just a hundred times more crazy. At that point, all you want to do is just find a tap and drown your eyes. Which is exactly what I did, drowning the 2.5 ml of sulphuric acid in about 5 litres of water. That was yesterday, at around 3 p.m. Despite that, even now, right here, I might as well be half blind. I can see perfectly, but my eye is so sensitive and still stinging, if I open my eye, it might get worse. And so I wander around the school half blind. It's worse then you think...
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Nightmare
I don't know what I should think. Ever since I adopted my 'stay happy with life' personality, I have never had a nightmare since. Until, well, last night. And I have all these speculations on what they stemmed from. My first exposure to Edgar Allan Poe in Lit class. My inborne fears, or my inner feelings. My imagination finally drawing a permutation of thoughts from my head, that when combined together, make a pretty scary dream. But the more I think about it, I think that there's a deeper reason to it.
I think the dream's a warning.
Yes, you read right. I do believe that sometimes God gives us dreams that have meaning, especially if they're so incredibly detailed and vivid as like last night.
The details leading to the terrifying climax, I do not remember. What I do remember, is this:
"You'll have to die," the receptionist in white said, but not cruelly, actually, almost pitifully, to my two parents.
"No!" I screamed my protests amidst tears. "Don't take them from me!"
The details from then are a blur. What I was conscious of, however, was the fact that I was stupidly trying to stop the receptionist from taking my parents away. I do remember flailing my arms, to meet nothing but air with every swing. But somehow, I knew. Despite the fact that I was outpowered by the receptionist with the shining bright clothes, had I made the demand to return my parents back, she would have, without hesitation.
I opened my mouth to ask for my parents. But my parents, as if they had read their only son's (only son? I'm not an only son! And yet, it fit somehow, and my mind accepted it) mind, immediately reacted, and my father restrained me, hugging me tightly with one arm while covering my mouth with the other, all the while I could feel the tears streaming down his face and mine.
"No, son, you mustn't!" my father interjected softly. "You mustn't!"
"But Dad! They'll take you and Mum away!"
My mother said something I could not hear. My father turned to look at her and give her a gentle silencing look, while repeating her name pacifyingly.
The name of my mother shocked the bejabbers out of the part of myself that was still mine, conscious to the fact it was a dream. My 'mother's' name was not my real mother's name. Rather, it was the name of a girl I know, here in reality. I then pondered for a split second with my self that was in reality, 'Then, who am I?'
I got shook back into the dream by my 'father'. He looked at me with those eyes, oh so familiar eyes, and spoke with a soft voice that pierced through my wailing.
"Remember, son, when it comes to the choice between God and ******(my 'mother's' name), remember what you must choose."
And I knew the answer. Of course I did. My real parents brought me up the Christian way. I knew the answer. Family's important, but God first. In everything. I knew the correct answer. But I didn't want to answer it. My father must have sensed my reluctance.
"Matthew!" I felt a subtle change in the atmosphere, but I couldn't tell what it was. It was the first time during the dream I actually heard my name specifically. "Matthew! What will you choose?" And I could sense, my father, he was afraid. More afraid then I had ever known him. (But had I known him? He wasn't my real father. Or was he?) And at that point, I knew what I must choose.
"God," I sobbed, being hardly able to get His name out of my mouth, as fast as the tears were flowing. And my father, with a satisfied aura, released me, and he and my mother (??) walked through a twisting vortex at the back of the room, beckoned there by that receptionist with the too-bright clothes, and disappeared. And I screamed, and cried, and screamed...
And woke up, half through a scream. Luckily, I did not wake up my roomie. I gathered a few frightened breaths, and sat there thinking. Of all the possible meanings of the dream.
It could have been that I saw, to some extent, my own future, or at least one I had fantasized about. Could I in the dream have been my own son? I realised that through the dream, although I was the son, I sometimes was also able to see from my 'father's' persepctive. Does that strengthen the fact that I was seeing my own son? But what had my father said to my mother with the name I knew that was not my mother's name? Why that name? What does the future hold for me and that person?
Whatever the detailed meaning of the dream, two things were sure for me. One, I would soon get caught up in a trial the likes of which I have never faced before. I would fight and fight and fight, for both myself as well as for others. Two, I would never succeed. The fight would stretch on and on, and it wouldn't matter so much if I failed the trial, but my faith would be shaken. In the trial, I would be faced with a choice. A difficult one. One that would change my life forever. And no matter what, I would have to go against my earthly selfish self and choose God. And that would take a lot of will I would not have, not unless God himself helped me.
And so it was, in the early morning, before and after my roomie woke up, that I sat on the bed, paced across the small room, paced along the corridors of the 7th floor, praying. With all my might. What else could I do?
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Literature
I must be the biggest hypocrite in existence. In Sec 2, on and on I raged about the evils of 'The Merchant of Venice', about how I just could not see how 'the quality of mercy is not strained' and how I simply refused to see how 'it droppeth as gentle rain from the heavens'. In Sec 4, many's the time the Indo-scholars laughed at my fussing over 'Macbeth', about how I lamented about how 'life's like a walking shadow' and as the days went on, 'tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day'.
Which is why I must be the biggest hypocrite in existence: because I still hang on to the quotes. Are you reading, mum, Mr. Chua, Ms. Goh?
Here's another reason why I say I must be the biggest hypocrite on the face of this planet: Because despite how much I claimed I loathed Shakespeare, despite the fact that I'd never admit I read Shakespeare in public, now, in JC1, I pursue the study of 'Othello' with a vehemence I never knew I could display. I'm creating my very own detailed notes for myself that have made essay writing three times as easy. As the final straw, the last line of my latest essay read something like "..., but I can expect to embark on an exciting journey as I walk down the papyrus hallways of words of the legendary playwright." What. The. Hell.
Indeed, I'm a hypocrite. I hate Shakespeare, I said. Aw, man, it's lit now, I said. Ah, my Lit marks? Fail, lah, I said. But that does not change the fact that after Sec2 streaming, I threw away Geography, not Lit. And it does not change the fact that after O'Levels ended, I threw away History, not Lit. It also certainly does not change the fact that I did not take Economics, but Lit. And it definitely, without a doubt, does not change the fact that I'm enjoying 'Othello' immensely, and can't wait for 'The Tempest'.
Hypocrite. Faugh! Bleagh!
Friday, April 18, 2008
Roomie Telepathy
Originally, we considered it a joke. I mean, telepathy? In this world? No way... But still, that couldn't stop us from feeling it to some extent. The compatibility of roomies for us scholars soon became how fast it took us to achieve roomie telepathy.
But I never felt it so hard before. My current roomie, Ayto, and I, have achieved a new record for fastest ever roomie telepathy ever achieved that we know of. Three weeks. It exists. I'm serious. We complete each other's sentences, we know what each other is doing no matter where we are, we know where the other is, and we feel the resonance in our heads when we're near each other.
Take yesterday, for example. Ayto was sick, so he wasn't in school. When I stepped into the school, I immediately felt a suffocating feeling that I couldn't explain, like my brain had half of it missing. My mind felt closed, like there was something missing from my whole physical structure.
During lunch, the feeling subsided for a second, and I reflexively reached for my phone. As I laid my eyes on it, an sms from my roomie arrived. And it was right there and then that I realised that the feeling was caused by the absence of my dear roomie. He slept through the whole day until I came back except to sms me once, and that's why his mind was closed to me, and I couldn't feel it.
Can't believe it? Live in a hostel with a person you click with incredibly well as your roomie, and witness roomie telepathy for yourself.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I Miss SJI!!!
It's hard to let go, isn't it? Three months and sixteen days since the New Year began, and I'm once again strongly reminded of my alma mater, all she has done for me, how she has molded me into the person I am now. Trials and tribulations which marked my difficult passage from an ignorant foreign Sec1 to a somewhat more knowing Sec4 who everyone mistook for a Singaporean at first sight.
No, I still don't want to become a P.R. Keep trying, government.
But I do owe Singapore for this scholarship for all the fond memories of SJI. And for all you 2007 graduates out there, for all of you who miss your alma mater, for those who miss:
-Running faster than we do for NAPFA to the canteen every recess
-NOT having to sing the National Anthem everyday (sorry, TJ, but I just don't do the National Anthem...)
-Singing Hail Alma Mater followed by J-O-S-E-P-H-S after practically every school event
-Saying the Josephian Pledge every P.E lesson (to all of you from 432'07, I still haven't forgotten how index number nineteen ALWAYS had to say the pledge...)
-Eating from the Purple Plate stall (and the rest but especially the Purple Plate)
-The routine 'Good morning, SJI!'
-The weird library smell
-Pretending to rummage through the pigeon holes in the annex actually to enjoy the aircon
-Saying,"I put it in your pigeon hole!" to the teachers just so it's their fault that they 'don't notice' the homework we hand up 'on time'
-The soft comfy PAC chairs with the dim lighting that's just so good to sleep in
-The many times HOL poked us awake in the PAC...
-Hiding up on Mt. Rosie on mornings that you're late
-The air-conditioned Sec 2 classes (although I myself never had that privelege)
-Sticking your head through the top half of the P.E department door
-Sitting on the track during lower sec before assembly
-Sitting on anywhere but the track during upper sec before assembly
-Sitting on the track during assembly
-A 'certain' person's hour-long speeches
-That 'certain' person saying "Therefore I urge you..." every minute of that hour-long speech (okay, maybe that was exaggerated, but you get my drift...)
-Chapel every morning
-Fighting over who gets the street soccer court/hockey pitch
-Going over to Tanglin CC's basketball court to play soccer (and getting yelled at afterwards...)
-The trips to Esso to stock up on your snacks, drinks, etc. (or withdraw money, eh, scholars?)
-And of course, our friends and our teachers!
To all the 2007 graduates reading, I'm sure you would agree to thanking all who made our stay at SJI a memorable one, and we'll miss SJI a lot, and no matter how much time ravages our memory, no matter how much life whisks us away from SJI, no matter how much we pretend not to care, we'll always have a good reason to come back to SJI.
Once a Josephian, always a Josephian. No matter where we are, who we become and what we do. Ora et Labora.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
An Unsatisfactory Response
Some questions are better left off unanswered. Some questions are meant to be answered. Some answers are better given right away, others must be delayed. We may not know which type of question is which, or how we should answer, but one thing I know for certain. I should have answered that question.
I have fixed something new into my routine, and while I do not follow it religiously, or am not always able to, everytime I do follow it I am reminded why I thought about doing it in the first place. However, nothing could have prepared me for the question yesterday.
So yesterday just happened to be one of the days when I was able to make room in my schedule to follow the new routine. And so I did. One hour later, I was especially caught unawares when I was asked the question.
Why do you do this? Why do you like it so much?
And I wanted to give the answer. I really did. I had had the answer ready for two weeks already. At least, I think I did. I wanted to get it off my chest. I wanted to answer. But when I opened that accursed mouth of mine, I just couldn't. I just couldn't.
And so the answer that procceeded out from my mouth was nowhere near what I really wanted to answer.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Founder's Day
And so it was, that I sat in the bus this morning on the way to TJ wondering exactly how I was going to pull it off. Assembly was surely going to end at 0745. I had to report to SJI at 0800. TJC was in Bedok. SJI was in Novena. I allowed my mind a brief moment of fantasy, to think that in times of great necessity, humans would suddenly gain the ability to teleport. But alas, it was not to be.
I reached TJ at 0702, as usual (kinda), and immediately bolted towards the General Office to get a permission slip to leave school after assembly. I spent the next few minutes running all around the school searching for my form tutor and a HOD to endorse the slip. I got it done 2 seconds before assembly started.
And when it was time to deliver my speech about Brunei, I gathered up all the skills the SJI and TJC Drama club imparted on me, and gave a (hopefully) good speech without sounding the least bit nervous or anxious to get it over with and get out of the school so I could go to SJI. So I fulfilled my responsibility to TJC. Next would be the responsibility to my alma mater.
The school was dismissed from assembly. I sprinted so hard out of the school, I couldn't see anything beside me. I think Olympic scouts will now be after me...
So I raced to a taxi stand and got whisked away to SJI. Naturally, I couldn't make it by 0800, but I reached there soon enough, about one minute before timeout. (cue the sigh of relief)
Obviously, it was a really tiring morning, and is continuing to be a really tiring day. But standing there on the podium during assembly and hearing the honestly heartfelt claps amidst the polite applause, it made the TJ part worth it. And standing up there on stage in SJI, receiving an award for what I love to do and do well, writing, it made the SJI part worth it.
So while my muscles feel the fatigue, I feel so alive.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Responsibility
Responsibility is a tough thing.
Who knew that I would become the permanent CG rep of my class and have to take responsibility for my class, all the problems they would encounter, and make sure they don't, under any circumstances, get caught by our beloved discipline master for anything?
Who knew that I would become the Reading rep for my class and would have to come to the Community Library in a Sunday for three hours when I could be working just to find books for my classmates so they can feel the benefits of the reading program?
Who knew that before I gave up my duties as Lit rep to Aisha and Baohui, I would still need to collect money for the purchasing of our texts and be trusted not to embezzle any of the money?
Who knew that four years, 3 months and 6 days ago, I would get the ASEAN Scholarship that would place me here in the first place? The responsibilities of a student leader may be great, but the burden of being a scholar might just be the greatest of them all. But still, I am incredibly grateful for my scholarship, for the incredibly large number of benefits I have obtained, for the realisation of my purpose on this planet, and all the friends I met along the way, especially one in particular, but I'm not about to say who... Heh heh... Too bad, guys, keep on guessing...
Tomorrow, my responsibilities will once again leave me exhausted. Tomorrow is the beginning of International Friendship Week, and I was saboh-ed by my senior-now-teacher John Gobok to start the ball rolling by speaking about Brunei to the school. I wouldn't mind, normally, but tomorrow I have to go back to SJI to receive a prize in the early morning. None of the others are able to take my place as I'm one out of the two who are actually ready for it, and so both of us have to present tomorrow. Therefore, tomorrow, to fulfill my responsibilities, I must achieve the rank of National Sprinter, sprinting to SJI the moment I finish my speech. And because I am excused from classes for SJI's prizegiving, I must catch up on tomorrow's work, which just happens to be my longest day.
Who knew I would have to carry out my duties as ambassador of Brunei, intelligent scholar, friend to a great many people AND pride of my alma mater whom my batch pushed to Band 1, all within a few hours of each other, all across this island, which previously seemed like a little red dot, but now seems like a marathon to cover.
I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow, but I know two things for certain. One: I'm gonna be freaking tired at the end of the day. Two: It's gonna be a hell of a ride.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Questions
Ever wonder what it feels like to live life not knowing your true purpose in life? To wake up day after day and wonder, what's it all mean?
Last night, it was these thoughts that I was thinking, that even though I knew what I was supposed to do in life, I asked myself, would it be all worth it? Would I be able to look back upon my JC life 20 years down the road and be satisfied with myself?
And as I pondered these questions, like a fresh wind, no stronger than a puff, I felt the Spirit of God patiently reminding me:
"Child, as long as what you're doing is what I want you to do, 20 years, 50 years, 100 years from now, you will look upon these days and know that what you did was worth it. Remember, I am always here."
And when I heard that, I knew that my questions were answered, and any similar questions across the years would be answered similarly.
