From martyr to mother

‘When you are a mother, you will understand.’ I do not know how many times I have heard those words since I began my missionary journey, taking my first mission trip solo at the age of 19 years.

When I was 16, one Missions Sunday in church, I felt a calling as I sang the hymn ‘Here I Am’.

‘It is I, Lord, I have heard you calling in the night.’ I was determined to answer the call, but where to go. As I began to read stories by DC Talk and the Voice of the Martyrs, I was inspired by the stories of those who gave their lives to receive the crown of life in exchange. The highest calling possible and I dreamed in my heart, if only one day, God would count me worthy of such a calling. I therefore was determined that I had to stay single, so that when my turn came, I could, like the disciples, drop everything as it were. To war-torn places my heart seemed to draw me to. Places where there was a dire need for any basic resource. As I ventured into places like the DRC, South Sudan, Marawi, there were often arguments with my mother about going to these places. ‘When you are a mother, you will understand,’ she would remind me constantly. ‘Nope, I said, cos I am not going to be a mother.’

But it turns out, as always, his plans are higher than our plans and his ways higher than ours. After wrestling with God for years, I found myself in a relationship, married, and not only that, mother to two beautiful children. Now I finally understand those words my mother constantly uttered. God had a different calling in mind for me. And perhaps a higher or even harder calling than what I had in mind. The endless nights, the tantrums you battle, the patience you search for that you never had, and all for what? Because God has charged you with one of the most difficult callings: to be a mother. To be a Christian mother means that God has charged you with raising the next generation. Being a mother means that you need to martyr your own way of life, to ensure that the little eyes that watch you are learning all that they should. 

The harvest is plenty but the workers are few. I will need to spend my lifetime ensuring that my children are equipped to serve in God’s kingdom, to teach them that they need to love the Lord and for them to teach others.

This is why almost no one can live up to the model of a mother in Proverbs 31. For it says ‘A wife of noble character who can find?’ An almost impossible unattainable calling. But we must try, for the sake of the call. 

I have been blessed to have a headstart in life, being guided by my own mother. And I pray that God will continue to guide me to be the best mother I can to my own children.

Blessed Mothers’ Day to all.

Thanks Mum for everything. 

Low milk supply - When you’ve tried everything...

Life to me has always been about one goal.. serving the underserved. But one verse I know so well these many years is Proverbs 16:9 - ‘A man’s heart plans his way, but the LORD determines his steps.’ True indeed. And as it would seem, the path he chose for me has been vastly different from the one I would have chosen for myself. ‘Martyr’ was the word that always resonated with me, from the days I first read the book ‘Jesus Freak’ by DC Talk. But God heard differently and just that like ‘martyr’ became ‘mother’. Another noble ambition and now that I have lived it for nearly four months, it is a road that is no less easy and definitely much longer. 

I would never have thought myself to write a post about this but in my own desperation I found that I was pouring through blog after blog, forum after forum, to find something encouraging. From the day she was born, I struggled with low milk supply. 

Before I delivered, it seemed all a myth to me. That’s what I had read at least - every mother is capable of producing milk for her baby. That was the first myth I led myself to believe and the days that followed seemed to be a constant downward spiral. The first few days were full of anticipation. Milk comes in day 3-5, they said. I waited and waited and there was nary enough. In anticipation of problems, I made an appointment with the lactation consultant, which turned out to be a traumatising experience for both of us. She constantly pushed her head so forcefully to my breast that my little one just kept fighting and refused to latch. Then she said to my husband and I, ‘She’s not going to latch, I think you need to go and buy formula.’ Where were we to go? We didn’t have any bottles ready and the pharmacy didn’t sell any formula. Frustrated with her, I said, ‘No she will.’ I calmly took her back, soothed her and allowed her to latch. That was the first and last time I was going to see that woman. 

Back home, the tears continued. After latching, she would constantly cry in hunger. Thank God for formula. We spent the first few feeds syringing those few mls into her mouth and she would gulp in air with each breath. Each feed was a painstaking hour. 

Eventually, we decided that the bottle was the way to go. ‘Don’t introduce the bottle before the first month’, they said - or the baby will get nipple confusion. The first bottle she took, she gulped it all within minutes and this tremendous feeling of guilt overcame me. I had been starving her these few days. As I pumped, I got out a measly 30ml. No wonder she was hungry. I scoured the internet again. Power pumping. That sounded like the miracle I was looking for. 

By this time, I was starting to gain weight with all the extra food my family prepared for me. Calories are what you need to produce milk, they said. In addition to the mountains of supplements - Legendairy milk, Motherlove special blend, domperidone. I tried them all. I power pumped twice a day for two months and got myself up to 50-70ml every 3 hours. Still disappointing. I even decided to try a TCM spa that promised to help with low milk supply. After spending thousands, I learnt that I had blocked milk ducts and although the massages helped, relief was often only a few days before I had to go for more. 

As the days went by, I was more and more convinced she had a tongue tie. Around 2 months of age, she got it fixed. I figured that will probably fix her latch. But it didn’t. 

I finally decided a last ditch attempt to try another lactation consultant who was recommended to me by a friend. I found out that her tongue coordination was absolutely the pits, which is why she still couldn’t latch. She recommended I see an osteopath and start taking all sorts of supplements again, lactation cookies, etc. By this time, I wasn’t keen but since I had come this far, what did I have to lose. I stuffed myself with malt beverages, lactation cookies and muffins. Other than my weight, not much else seemed to increase. I took the supplements she recommended religiously. Perhaps there was a modest increase of about 10-20ml over a 24-hour period, but it lead to my little one screaming in pain from gas every feed. So that had to stop too. 

I visited the osteopath who taught us suck training exercises. Two weeks later, we will still practicing the exercises with some little improvement. Whenever I tried to latch, she would just bite down and pull, leading to a very sore mummy. I had to stop, or I wouldn’t even be able to pump any milk for her. Another week later, she suddenly started refusing the bottle on night feeds, making me even more distressed. So I tried latching her again. Suddenly, everything was alright. She was able to nurse properly! What a feeling of achievement for both of us. I went back to sleep and so did she. No more tears in the night and she slept happily for another 4 hours. What’s better still, I don’t have the problems of blocked ducts anymore. 

While she is still too distracted to nurse much in the day, her ability to nurse at night has given me renewed energy into trying to increase my supply again. Supplements, cookies, more pumps. It seems never ending and I am not sure how I could have gotten here faster. I still don’t have enough to meet her needs, but it’s ok. What is important is that now we enjoy the times we have. 

Having tried it all, if there’s one thing I have learnt, if you have low milk supply, spend your energy into getting a good latch and get a good lactation consultant. 

the company you keep

This journey feels almost like it's been forever and yet time has gone by in the blink of an eye. I still remember my first trip going to Yangon on my own. Since then my travels have brought me all over the world, each time a bit more adventurous than the next. 

Then came the time for specialist training. What I thought would help in fulfilling my dreams almost seemed to send them in the opposite direction. Promises made of going back to the DRC or South Sudan left unfulfilled for the last couple of years left a sour taste in my mouth. And it left me wondering if they had thought I had forgotten about them, that I no longer came because I no longer cared. As training consumed more of my energy, it left me wanting much more than I had begun with. Not only did I feel that I no longer had time to do the things I really wanted to, but I wondered if I was further from my goal than when I had started. 

4 days ago, I sat for my specialist training exit examination and by God's grace, I passed. After the moments of disbelief, suddenly I viewed things as I always had. Now I was free. Free to pursue the things God had put in my heart before. Things that had been forced to go to sleep now could be resurrected. And yet, things are completely different. 

I have always prayed that he would use me in a greater capacity to help others, to go where others would not, whatever the cost would be. God has always been faithful and he has given me opportunities aplenty, each more precious than the next. Now that I have finally completed my specialist training, I finally see the opportunities that abound in my future. Helping others is indeed addictive, but it is not because the 'feel good' emotion but because it pleases our Father in heaven. 

For the next one month, I will get an opportunity to be part of a global enterprise - one I have always dreamt of being a part of. One that I would have never had the chance to do if I had not undergone this training. I only pray that what I say and do will bring glory to the one who has given me this opportunity. 



Not only has God given me this wonderful opportunity, but he has put me in the company of eagles, that I may learn to soar with them. 

Whatever life brings my way, bring it on.

This Ugly Duckling

It's been over two years since my last post and I can't think why. It is not the lack of things to give thanks for or the lack of excitement in my life. But even though I had much to say about my time in Marawi, I never penned a post.

Perhaps my mind has just been distracted or I haven't been sure of the direction that my life has taken. Since coming back to Singapore in 2011, life has been full of setbacks and disappointments, enough to make me want to give up on a daily basis. But suddenly, it's as though the clouds have been lifted and I look behind me and I see the Red Sea closing behind me. He has brought me on from the Red Sea place in my life and finally I can move toward the promised land.

What is the promised land? It's the calling that he set before me. It means that there is a lot more walking and circling to do before I get there and it may be another 40 years until I reach but I can say all the more with confidence that I will get there because he has brought me through one trial to the next.

For the last 13 years, I have tried to find ways to fulfil my calling in the best way I know how, often stopped by the circumstances that I thought would bring me forward. And yet, he has called me is faithful and he will never fail. To imagine that I would be able to find a job that could fall in line with what I want to do is more than I could ask for.

Indeed I always remember that with great power comes great responsibility, and Jesus himself said 'To whom much has been given, much will be demanded.' I am glad to say that finally the day is coming when I can begin to repay just a tiny ounce of the abundant grace poured out upon me.

For years, I have seen those who have gone before me, soaring on wings like eagles, wishing that I could count myself like them. Or perhaps, another more apt analogy would be that of the ugly duckling, gazing at the beautiful swans that fly overhead, imagining my life to be like that. Definitely not to be glamorous but to be able to help others and change lives in a bigger way. After all these years of swimming in my little pond, I can see that reality of being able to fly come soon.I don't know when but soon and it's time for this ugly duckling to grow up.

'Two things I ask of you, Lord; do not refuse me before I die;
Keep falsehood and lies far from me; give me neither poverty nor riches,
But give me only my daily bread.
Otherwise I may have too much and disown you and say,
'Who is the Lord?'
Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God.'

As I have always said, To God Be the Glory.

we are tired of war..

14 hours of travel and some extortions of USD along the way finally brought us to where we were supposed to be. By this time, my spirit was already so weary. Not from the hours and hours were travelling but from the few who were just interested in procuring money from me. It felt that what I had to give just wasn't good enough, they just wanted money from me.

The Philippines was never like this. But then again I had always been protected by my companions. But Africa is a different ballgame and I need to be wise because it is impossible to help everyone. Hungry, tired and frustrated, I just think - I need a break from Africa.

We arrive at the church where we will hold our teaching and there are people singing, dancing and beating drums as they herald our arrival. As we sing together, there is a warmness that fills my heart and even spills over as a few tears. The introductions begin and the first of many welcomes starts with these resounding words 'We are tired of war. We are TIRED of war.' The smile on my face breaks as does my heart as I listen to the gut wrenching words of a people who have been victims of a war that has come and left them no better. In places where the aftermath of the war is fresh, there are an abundance of NGOs or UN signs posted everywhere. But strangely, there is a scarcity of foreign aid here.

I know that people asking for money is part of a culture that has been ingrained into so much of the developing world. An idea that money can do anything and money equals power. But then there are also those who will surprise you. Perhaps the lack of people to ask aid from has taught them to rely more on themselves. And you find that there are people who earnestly believe that you come just out of love, even if you have nothing much to offer. Those who believe that heart and education and hard work are more valuable than money. The situation is dire in South Sudan. Milk, eggs and meat are a luxury, other things are a rarity and have to be imported from Uganda. So many live below the poverty line, crying out for a chance to build their lives.

South Sudan, I know one day the world will hear your cry.

Long walk to development..

Development is a process

I admit that unlike the previous times I am not charged with excitement as I once was. I am filled with a sense of trepidation and partly some disappointment from my own failings. I forget that development is a process that takes place over years and I had high hopes for projects in Africa seeing how quickly they had understood the teaching as a duck takes to water. But without giving much guidance, I left them on their own just to follow the concepts I had taught them only to find that my concepts were just perhaps concepts. Worst of all they had put in so much effort into the proposals. I cannot help but feel some shame for misguiding them and what is more, I am at a loss for words as to what to tell them. 

My eagerness to help and compassion has not always been a strength and has sometimes been my fatal flaw that I destroy the own foundation I build for not being firm or driving the importance of self-sustainability and independence. It is my fault for not practicing what I preach. And perhaps because I think they still me as this little girl who doesn't know very much. Or is it just me who sees that? Perhaps it is my own imagination that creates these illusions and barriers. 

For the first time in 9 years, I finally pray that God would send someone to help me, as a countercheck and to stop me from beating myself up. For someone who has some sort of clue about business and writing proposals. I only pray that he would send me the words I need to speak and open hearts to listen. 

South Sudan. A chance to start afresh. Wipe the slate clean. But it's not quite so simple. You can't just erase the process of development because of some bumps in the road. I have to keep trying again and again. What do I expect? I don't know. I dare not hope because I fear I may disappoint myself again. But I do need to trust. I trust in the one who goes before me. Trust that the path has already been laid before me. Trust that whatever needs to happen will happen in his time. As long as I am willing to persevere. 

As I pen these words, the doubt begins to ebb and the words 'perfect love drives out all fear' resounds within me. Indeed whom shall I fear? 

Together, nothing is impossible. 

greater things are yet to be done here

A week has flown by in the blink of an eye and the first chapter of 2015 is over. The months of preparation have culminated in a three and a half day seminar that seemed to go by quicker than it took to prepare the materials.

As I prepared for the first day, I was so full of anxiety and trepidation. Would they be willing to accept our ideas? Would they be willing to put in the effort? Would they be willing to change?

The ideas and concepts of community development have been well absorbed across the Philippines but as expected, execution takes years. This was also my first time to be teaching this all on my own, what if I couldn't get the concepts across?

Amidst the storms of my own thoughts, God brought me back into the eye of the storm. That quiet place deep inside me where only He is, nothing else. And he said, 'No eye has seen, no ear has heard and no mind can know what God has prepared for those who love him.' True enough, the insights of those who I taught far exceeded my thoughts or expectations. These people could be some of the first to be taught about true community development and in them I saw the future of what could be, the number of people they could train and the future of their community and country. Now I know how Joshua and Caleb must have felt looking at the promise of claiming the promised land.


As I looked back on my previous trips, I already had experienced an abundance of God's amazing grace. How he enabled me to raise funds for the refugees or to see 200 patients a day was definitely not by my strength alone. But nothing could compare to the experience of teaching community development, to empower people to bring change from within.


My sleep was replaced by endless dreams of projects we could do in the near future and each day I found myself more and more energised with the hope of tomorrow. 

I believe with all my heart that greater things are still to be done in Kyenjojo. Bring on 2015!