the pure venetian

Just the other night I watched a documentary about the woeful story of Venice, told by a Venetian who had helplessly watched the true beauty of the city be eroded by the romantic fantasies of British literary figures such as Lord Byron and Charles Dickens. The tranquillity of Venice seemed to be slowly torn apart by their imaginations. Despite the words that flourished from their pen, none had portrayed Venice as it truly had been. The Venice that they spoke of was an idyllic picture that existed only in their dreams. Painters were no different from the writers. They combined different vantage points of the city to produce a perfect Venetian landscape. But it was far from accurate.

Nonetheless, these fantasies fanned many a tourists to the great canals of Venice and they still are today. Yet it would seem now that the biggest problem is not the sinking of the city, the Venetian population is already dwindling. The issue is, what does it mean to be a true Venetian? The documentary ends on a sad note, with two born and bred Venetians discussing what has become of Venice – the fake Murano glass, the multitude of tourist shops and the loss of heritage. Indeed so, I distinctly remember the streets lined with souvenir shops, with a McDonalds’ restaurant strewn in between. Forgive me for saying so but it does not seem quite so perfect to me.

Yet this false Venice draws such a striking parallel to the world of Christianity today. What does it mean to be a true Christian? It seems that the world Jesus created has been so desecrated by our false ideals. I refuse to believe that the true Christian is but a ghost of a memory, a shadow on a thought. The Venetian proudly traced his lineage to nearly 200 years back, where his ancestors were buried in the same city. We have a lineage 2000 years back and so easily, we’ve forgotten it. Many do not regard the Bible as the treasure it is. They do not see it as the epic story it is, written by the hand of God. Instead, it has become a battleground for empty debate. The church, once a dwelling for the Holy Spirit that was brought alive by the truest worship of believers, seems but a hollow building in so many places around the world.

Instead of beckoning others to buy the fake Murano glass in our windows, we forget that watching the true Murano glassblower at work attracts more people. It attracts people who want the real deal. It’s the same with the Christian. Words never have as much meaning as actions do. When others see that you are the real deal, you won’t need words anymore.

So how did people like Charles Spurgeon, John G. Lake and John Bunyan keep their passion alive for God? It had nothing to do with the era they were in. They just remembered who they were. They stayed true to who they were and who they were to born be. Venetian or Christian, all we need to do is – keep it pure.

my first love

It’s been nearly a year since I first gazed upon the beauty of the Scottish highlands… standing there among the rising cliffs brought my thoughts back to when I first stood there. I look around me and I think of some of my favourite artists – Da Vinci, Van Gogh, but none of them could paint a picture such as this. No one has an imagination like God, and no one could ever put so much effort into perfecting every little detail. A song plays through my mind again and again – it’s called The Love of God by Sandi Patti, and it starts “What made God take so much care to make creation glow? He could have made it black and white, and we’d have never known.” Yes, I do wonder, what would the world seem like in black and white.

The summer is nearly over, but the flowers are still in perfect bloom. Man may be able to clone sheep, and even themselves one day… But I doubt that man will ever be able to create a flower as God has. I saw all the splendour of this world contained in a single white rose. Could man ever do that? Perhaps this is a good reminder of not only the perfection of our Father, but all the imperfections of ourselves.

Going back to the Scottish highlands tempted me into going through all my blog entries again, for it was much about the time when I had opened up to share with others all that was in my heart. There always seems a danger in being too transparent, a fear that I had always harboured within me. Nonetheless, God finally showed me that I was selfish to keep all his blessings to myself and so my blog was born. And as I read through them again, it seemed that I had forgotten some of the things I had written, so small but yet so significant in molding me. And it tells me that I am on my way towards becoming the person God wants me to be, even if just an inch at a time. But what is contained in my blog – nothing but grace upon grace. I have known the full measure of grace that my heart can contain, so overwhelming it could break your heart. Yet I know somehow that the grace God has to give far exceeds that. I find that through the years, I have so little trials to speak of, I don’t know why. Maybe God has not tested as I deserve, but then the grace he gives always surpasses any heartbreak I have ever been through. Yesterday in Edinburgh, the song of the bagpipes playing Amazing Grace filled the air and oh what a beautiful song it is indeed. I think I should never tire of hearing its message. One other thing I realise, despite all the colourful words contained in the English language, I always seem to run out of vocabulary so quickly when it comes to describing the glories of our Father and Creator. Indeed, he is beautiful beyond description, too marvelous for words.

three in one

For the past 3 years, I’ve been living a ‘double life’, going back and forth through Singapore and Dundee hasn’t always been the easiest, having to pick up pieces of my life here and there. But within a week or so, I’ve usually settled back into the scheme of things. But things have just become more complicated. Having lived in the Philippines for 7 weeks, I’ve created a life that I became very reluctant to leave. I wondered how difficult it would be now to combine these three separate lives into one. My thoughts float back to the Philippines every five minutes, but the precious memories I carry and the new things I have learnt have helped me to integrate these lives into one. I’m finally learning how to live every part of my life for God. I see things in a different perspective now and to be honest, it’s just great.

One common thread that runs through all three is my status of a ‘grandmother’. This is what my friends seem to have recognised, and perhaps why I am so drawn to geriatrics. Everyone tells me that I seem to think like one. What it actually means I really don’t know but then I’ve come to agree with that. I feel that my life has been so abundant that I’ve lived 80 years in these 21 years. I’ve been so blessed that even if there were no tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter. I could not ask for more than I already have. One thing I’ve always kept in my mind is that tomorrow will be better than next and the next year would always be better than the previous. But having looked at 2007, it’s already been so wonderful. I don’t know how my next 5 years could be much better, much less 20 or even 40 years. Sometimes I get scared at the wonderful plans God has for my life. I know they will be big and right now it seems just too big for my little mind to conceive. Indeed, God is good.

the stones cry out

"I tell you," he replied, "if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out." Luke 19:40

To be honest, it’s scary to be so sure of something at this age. Yet many times I tell myself that my age should not matter. After all, Jesus reminds us of how important to keep that child like faith. But I find that there is a strange call for me in the Philippines. One that came so subtly I did not even realize it. I cannot explain what it is. The words of Exodus 2:22 still ring in my head. Louder still with each time I return and it’s a little unnerving. Is this where my exodus is? Wouldn’t you think it’s too early to tell? I suppose my human nature is beginning to get scared at the greatness of God’s plans for me. Maybe God is fast tracking me. At first I thought it was the people, but in my heart I know that it’s more than that. It’s more than the scenery, the community, even the dirty ice cream and the kamote tops. It’s something much deeper. The stones are crying out, I hear it.

Here in the Philippines, I’m lifted to the highest I can reach. I would dare anything for God and I’ve experienced riches my heart thought it would never know. I’ve learnt to embrace love in its full strength, to reach a point I could only dream of. I have known more of the person I wanted to become, the me I thought I would only know when senility took over everything else. Is it possible? Indeed, I am far from perfect, but to have come so far is quite inconceivable for me. I’ve forgotten what sorrow or anger is. I don’t know the meaning of bitterness anymore. I’ve learnt the meaning of true forgiveness and giving. How could I have been given so much in such a short time?

I left Puerto a day earlier before the rest of the team. I thought it wouldn’t matter, but in all honesty, that one day seemed like an eternity. I could not even pen the word ‘friends’ for they have become a family to me. That is the only thought that remains, the only love that could bring such tears and joy to my heart. My family is God’s blessing to me, but to have such a beautiful spiritual family who seems to know your every thought and understands your heart as Jesus does just seems too great a blessing.

As I leave, I feel something unexplainable calls me to return. Could this be the Holy Spirit placing this burden or desire in my heart? I have known the peace of God in my heart before, the peace that surpasses all understanding. But despite this peace that I feel, whenever I think of returning, there comes this unsettling feeling that is calling me. Unsettling only because that call is so strong that it seems a little scary.

25 July came and it was finally time for me to go home. But five minutes before we boarded our flight back to Manila, I decided to change my flight back to Singapore. Of course I did it for personal reasons, but God’s ways are higher than our ways and in the end, He’ll work out what is best. I didn’t quite think it all the way through, and as I sat on the plane I prayed, “Lord, if it be your will to let me stay, then let me stay. If not, take me from this place.” If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, God’s timing is perfect to the last millisecond, and just like Esther, I am in a particular place and time for a reason. Eventually, my ticket was changed without much hassle and God really paved the way for me to stay those extra days.

In those 4 days, I was really blessed to spend more time with them. I even got to watch Don Moen in concert, which was so amazing because I was upset that I was going to miss it. I can’t remember when the last time I laughed so hard or smiled so much was. Those wonderful days finally came to an end, but as I got ready to board the plane back to Singapore, there were tears in my eyes, but still, I felt much more settled than I did 4 days ago. At Singapore immigration, the queue for Singaporeans always writes ‘Welcome Home’. Usually, I greatly anticipate reading that message, especially when I return home from the UK. Yet this time, it was different. Home? I don’t know. Home is where the heart is, they say. This time around, I left little bits of me all over the Philippines – my sock in Amas, my hairbrush in Puerto, my pillow in Baler and maybe something else in Tacloban, but I think I left my heart behind too. Just for now, I know that the sun has set on my time here this year. But I will wait patiently for that sunrise with great anticipation. Now I know how Abraham must have felt in Moriah, when he met God on the mountain. And now I know that this is why I am so drawn to Palawan, it’s God. It’s the brooding of the Spirit, just waiting for an explosion to begin the next awakening. And I know that I definitely want to be there when that happens.

their stories must be told...

How nice it is to be finally back in Puerto... In the last 5 days, I have spent over 30 hours travelling to the different communities. We've flown in a 19-seater plane, sailed in a bumboat, ridden in the back of a dump truck and squeezed in a bus like sardines in a can. These roads weren't easy, and there are many who would not be willing to tread these dirt roads. I myself confess that there is some reluctance in me to repeat the journey, but so often, we sing about how we would be willing to go to the ends of the earth to reach God's people. And if we're going to go to the ends of the earth, we've got to get there somehow.

The funny thing is, just over a year ago, I'd have to be dragged onto that little plane. My fear of flying is no secret. But then when you're doing it for God, it's a funny thing, he gives you the courage to face it.

Coron is a place of poetic beauty and romanticism, where you find your imagination captive to the beauty of nature. The famous lakes, mountains, hot springs and reefs of Coron have attracted many tourists to its beautiful shores. But beneath this glorious facade lies another story, well-hidden from its visitors. As we took the boat to the community, our companions took the time to point out the island resorts on our way there. Yet on nearby shores there are communities plagued by diarrhoea and malaria. Everyday is a struggle to survive. In one community, there was a child not 2 years of age suffering from diarrhoea. Diarrhoea? So what? What a minor ailment it would seem to us. But how my tune should change on learning that the polluted water source and lack of medical supplies or facilities would not afford him more than 2 days to live. Herein lies a land screaming out for help, especially medical help, but their cries are quickly dissipated by the waves, and drowned out by the laughter of happy tourists on neighbouring shores.

This is but one sad tale in the multitude. As we carried on with our work, we found another community who had to be relocated because their island had been purchased by a foreigner to make way for 'greater developments', in this case, a casino. But relocating a community has never been easy, and promises not always fulfilled. As I look at the children playing nearby, I cannot help but sigh. Who will tell them that their future is full of uncertainty? Who will tell them that their home, land and livelihood will be lost to make way for this greedy enterprise?
There are many more stories to be told, not uncommon at all. The last leg of our journey back to Puerto is a 14-hour ferry ride – which gives me much time to reflect and dream. Despite having visited the beautiful Makinit hot spring and Kayangan lake, it is not these places which hold my thoughts. I remember the people I have met and leave behind, each with a story to tell. Maybe a story of woe, of joy, of pain, of laughter too, but each one a story of tenacity and courage.

the last frontier

Having travelled so much on my own, perhaps it would take much to ruffle me. Yet I find that my human nature is still prone to its fits of flurry and panic. I find also that I am often alone in my school of thought, although I admit that this is of little consequence to me. I am referring to the human inclindation of travelling in numbers. Of course, there are advantages of travelling in groups, but panic also tends to multiply in greater numbers. Not only that, it has a tendency to bring on a wave of 'what if's' and 'should have's'. I admit that in my solitary travel, there are moments of weakness where I have much desired a companion, especially to share the responsibilities of travel. However, there is also solace to be found. I find that I tend to rely more on God than on the flesh. It becomes easier to draw on the peace and strength that God has given me. Eventually when the sandstorm subsides, I always have ample time to screw my head back on.

Sometimes others think I have been on 'more than my fair share' of mission trips - at my age no less. Do I deny it? Indeed not! I have been strangely blessed. My age is no limitation to God, He will use me anyway. But I have come to find that God's ministry is like a drug, you can't get enough of it and you want more each time. So what do I mean by 'strangely blessed'? It is the most befitting term for the peculiar way all my trips have begun - things lost, flights delayed and all sorts. But this is just God's way of reminding me that his favour is upon me.

I've just completed the Condensed World Mission Course, and it's been nothing short of amazing. It is so refreshing to find that the dreams you have are nothing new, that there are so many others who have already gone before me. I've found difficulty putting this passion into words, but I found this beautiful article called 'apostolic passion' by Peter McClung, director of YWAM, which describes my exact sentiments, down to the very last letter.

"Apostolic passion, therefore, is a deliberate, intentional choice to live for the worship of Jesus in the nations. It has to do with being committed to the point of death to spreading his glory It's the quality of those who are on fire for Jesus, who dream of the whole earth being covered with the glory of the Lord... If you have apostolic passion, you are one of the most dangerous people on the planet. The world no longer rules your heart. You are no longer seduced by getting and gaining, but devoted to spreading and proclaiming the glory of God in the nations. You live as a pilgrim, unattached to the cares of this world. You are not afraid of loss. You even dare to believe you may be given the privilege of dying to spread his fame on the earth. The Father's passions have become your passions. You find your satisfaction and significance in him. You believe He is with you always, to the end of life itself. You are sold out to God, and live for the Lamb. Satan fears you, and the angels applaud you. Your greatest dream is that His name will be praised in languages never before heard in heaven. Your reward is the look of pure delight you anticipate seeing in His eyes when you lay at his feet the just reward of His suffering: the worship of the redeemed."

Oh I could go on and on about it, but when you have such excitement burning in your heart, could you possibly keep from imagining that someday God might consider you worthy to share in the crown of life? Impossible! I have no desire to be a renegade, a hero, a rebel or anything of the sort. I just want to answer this calling that I have been given. Now I know what it feels like to be a burning coal in the bonfire. And there is no other feeling in the world quite like it. Here there are so many who burn even more brightly than I do, and their fire only seeks to fuel mine. How wonderful it is indeed!

Palawan is well known as 'the last frontier' in the Philippines. Exactly so. Here we are learning about how we need to go to the unreached nations, to be tentmakers, to the very last frontier. There are still thousands of people groups still unreached all over the world today. I am not the first to go, nor will I be the last. But go we must, and go we will.

too young to know...

It's been about 6 weeks since my last post just because I've been too busy to write anything since the exams... These 6 weeks have been such a whirlwind... I've had my exams, passed them by God's grace and also had a wonderful SSC in ophthalmology... My career path still seems somewhat undecided - a hard fight between geriatrics and ophthalmology... perhaps someday soon I won't find myself so torn between the two. I've missed writing entries in my blog, but my time has not been my own and I've been much too busy writing articles to do anything else... The last time I'd worked so hard was probably my A levels... :) Nonetheless, it's been an exciting journey and I have learnt so much. I've had my dream hospital attachment as I'd wanted, and made beautiful friends... Sadly, that journey has to be put on hold for now and I will continue in Philippines where I left off the last time. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, or even the next 6 weeks... nor do I know where I will be going... I just know that as always, the next day will be better than the next! :)

For the past few weeks, my mind has been wandering back to thoughts of the movie 'Amazing grace'... There are two quotes which continuously linger my mind... the first of which is 'we are too young to realise that certain things are impossible for us.' said by Pitt the younger (in the movie). I find that it is indeed a beautiful sentiment, somewhat contrary to what the world has always taught us. The other quote which has been haunting me was said by John Newton, 'my memory fails but two things I remember - I am a great sinner, and Christ is a great Savior.' How I pray that when my dementia finally sets in, that these are the truths that will remain with me.

Tomorrow I will fly to Palawan and I am excited to see my friends again, to once again share the dreams and thoughts which caught our passion, to serve those who are in need, to discover more of who I am and who I can become, and of course, to ride a carabao and eat balut!