It seems like ages since my last entry but apparently not... Anyway, 4 more weeks to finals. While I am aching for medical school to be over, the thought of having taken my last exam more than a year ago does seem to be a frightening thought. But things are going better. By God's grace, I'm retaining things better than I ever could remember, which is a shock in itself... I'm trying to concentrate on revising, but every 5 minutes or less, my mind floats back to thoughts of being in the Philippines. While every day everywhere should be the same, when I'm there, every day is an adventure for God. I can have so much fun doing the things I do and it's made all the more precious because it's another way to give back to God.
But here I go again. Distracted. As David said in 2 Samuel 7:18 "Who am I, O Sovereign LORD, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?" 18 years after taking my first steps with God, life is just beginning and I am still learning to crawl. I could sit forever and ponder the greatness of God and wonder why he loved me enough to give me this charge of doing his work. Today as I was running to get the bus home, the bus driver just rolled her eyes at me and drove off although I was standing in front of the bus. Didn't make my day but I just sat down and waited. Normally, I'd have blown a fuse but this time I just wasn't bothered. Oddly enough, halfway down the road, there was a whole group of people coming to board our bus, the next bus. The bus that I'd missed had had an accident. It had a collision with a little car, who didn't appear to have much of a bonnet left. I don't think anyone was seriously injured, but I know it was the grace of God that kept me safe and more importantly, made me realise how well God has guarded me.
At the start of 4th year, we are given a little book to collect signatures of all the procedures we've done and witnessed, also known as our Record of Clinical Experience. As I look back on what has happened today and since the first step I took out into the wilderness, it's been strewn with these little packages of grace which God has littered my path with. And this is my Record of Spiritual Experience, signed by our one and only loving heavenly Father.
"Jesus what can I give,
What can I bring?
To so faithful a friend
To so loving a king
Savior, what can be said
What can be sung
As a praise of your name
For the things you have done
Oh my words could not tell
Not even in part
Of the debt of love that is owed
By this thankful heart."
Indeed, what a debt of love I owe.
Monday, 9 June 2008
Saturday, 24 May 2008
signature of grace
Now and then through my blog, I've always made mention of the exodus, a story that has made a great impact in my life. Admittedly, it was immortalised in my mind by Charlton Heston when I watched it at the age of 4 but the version in the Bible was the one imprinted in my heart.
It's been weeks since the cyclone hit and the release on aid restrictions have allowed many to breathe a sigh of relief. Yet as I listen to the news, it is not as black and white as it sounds. Doesn't this sound familiar? In Exodus 8:25, Pharoah tells Moses that the Israelites are now allowed to sacrifice to God but only in Egypt. In verse 28, he then says that they can go to the desert, but not very far. In Exodus 10:10, only the men are allowed to go. In verse 24, the women and children can go too, but the Israelites are to leave their flocks and herds. But finally in Exodus 12:31, the exodus begins. To me, the situation seems much alike.
What we see may be bargaining between earthly men, but it is a story wholly imprinted with the signature of God's grace. Those who share with me of their work tell me that things they bring give relief from hunger for the moment, but no hope for the dawn, much less the future. What then? I pray that someday these people will be able to claim the promise of Jeremiah 29:11 as their own.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
It's been weeks since the cyclone hit and the release on aid restrictions have allowed many to breathe a sigh of relief. Yet as I listen to the news, it is not as black and white as it sounds. Doesn't this sound familiar? In Exodus 8:25, Pharoah tells Moses that the Israelites are now allowed to sacrifice to God but only in Egypt. In verse 28, he then says that they can go to the desert, but not very far. In Exodus 10:10, only the men are allowed to go. In verse 24, the women and children can go too, but the Israelites are to leave their flocks and herds. But finally in Exodus 12:31, the exodus begins. To me, the situation seems much alike.
What we see may be bargaining between earthly men, but it is a story wholly imprinted with the signature of God's grace. Those who share with me of their work tell me that things they bring give relief from hunger for the moment, but no hope for the dawn, much less the future. What then? I pray that someday these people will be able to claim the promise of Jeremiah 29:11 as their own.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
Saturday, 17 May 2008
not the dolphins
Not once have I ever written two blog entries so close to the other... But I had a little revelation just the other night, which feels like one of God's little pick-me-ups. It's not the way life is supposed to be really, but occasionally I do lose my balance and fall.
Doing marine biology has always one of my little ambitions. Even as a little girl, I remember arguing with my sister over who would get the 'narwhal' flik flak watch. Sea World was like a dream come true, and I could easily imagine myself spending all day with dolphins and my favourite, the white beluga. But anyway, I'm far from that dream now. Some dreams ARE meant to remain dreams.
And this is what God has shown me, I'm chasing another dream now. His dream. I have a friend who is a marine biologist now serving God and sometimes she tells me that she wishes she had done a degree which might have been more instrumental in her ministry. Just the other day, I read of this marine biologist turned ophthalmologist. This is it. God wanted me to serve man, not dolphins. It's not a lesser job, it's a different job. And sadly, it wasn't a job that I was meant to do. God made me with the abilities he wanted me to have and in my heart, I know I've found what I was created to do.
Sometimes the days are a struggle, other days they aren't at all. But every day is God-given. There's a beautiful song in Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame called 'God help the outcasts' and if my heart ever had a song to sing, this is it.
"God help the outcasts, hungry from birth
Show them the mercy they don't find on earth
God help my people, we look to you still
God help the outcasts for nobody will
... I ask for nothing I can get by
For I know so many less lucky than I
Please help my people - the poor and downtrod
I thought we all were the children of God
God help the outcasts, children of God"
Doing marine biology has always one of my little ambitions. Even as a little girl, I remember arguing with my sister over who would get the 'narwhal' flik flak watch. Sea World was like a dream come true, and I could easily imagine myself spending all day with dolphins and my favourite, the white beluga. But anyway, I'm far from that dream now. Some dreams ARE meant to remain dreams.
And this is what God has shown me, I'm chasing another dream now. His dream. I have a friend who is a marine biologist now serving God and sometimes she tells me that she wishes she had done a degree which might have been more instrumental in her ministry. Just the other day, I read of this marine biologist turned ophthalmologist. This is it. God wanted me to serve man, not dolphins. It's not a lesser job, it's a different job. And sadly, it wasn't a job that I was meant to do. God made me with the abilities he wanted me to have and in my heart, I know I've found what I was created to do.
Sometimes the days are a struggle, other days they aren't at all. But every day is God-given. There's a beautiful song in Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame called 'God help the outcasts' and if my heart ever had a song to sing, this is it.
"God help the outcasts, hungry from birth
Show them the mercy they don't find on earth
God help my people, we look to you still
God help the outcasts for nobody will
... I ask for nothing I can get by
For I know so many less lucky than I
Please help my people - the poor and downtrod
I thought we all were the children of God
God help the outcasts, children of God"
Thursday, 15 May 2008
...........
......... is really how I feel. I have not written a post in nearly 2 months because I've been too busy and all the activity has finally gotten to me. My energy waxes and wanes... I feel like the smoldering wick or bruised reed Jesus promises he will not break. Yes, that is my saving grace, my only hope.
This is the longest I've been away from home, and admittedly I don't feel homesick, but how nice it would be if I were home. That means exams are over as well. Indeed, God has been gracious to me and granted me success in all my endeavours thus far. I cannot be more grateful for what he has done, but everything is coming together just prior to my exams and I'm waiting for the last straw that will break this camel's back. Not far to go now. Everything that I read just seems to bounce off my impenetrable skull and I feel like my memory is an all-time low. My mind is always away with the fairies and I'm not sure if what I am writing now makes sense. I've even been forgetting things so often it's ridiculous. Finally, I'm feeling the pressure of exams, and I can't do much about it when my mind just won't absorb. At this poiint, I think I need an antipsychotic more than some of my patients.
The recent stirring in Myanmar hasn't helped. I thank God for sustaining my brothers and sisters, for keeping them safe. Though I know that he will always be there to uphold them, I cannot help but worry. I suppose it's what keeps me on my knees as well. Just as God chose to harden Pharoah's heart that his wonders might be displayed in the land, I know God will use this opportunity to show the people how much he loves them and to help them realise that he is the Lord.
As my river of thoughts runs dry, here I end........
This is the longest I've been away from home, and admittedly I don't feel homesick, but how nice it would be if I were home. That means exams are over as well. Indeed, God has been gracious to me and granted me success in all my endeavours thus far. I cannot be more grateful for what he has done, but everything is coming together just prior to my exams and I'm waiting for the last straw that will break this camel's back. Not far to go now. Everything that I read just seems to bounce off my impenetrable skull and I feel like my memory is an all-time low. My mind is always away with the fairies and I'm not sure if what I am writing now makes sense. I've even been forgetting things so often it's ridiculous. Finally, I'm feeling the pressure of exams, and I can't do much about it when my mind just won't absorb. At this poiint, I think I need an antipsychotic more than some of my patients.
The recent stirring in Myanmar hasn't helped. I thank God for sustaining my brothers and sisters, for keeping them safe. Though I know that he will always be there to uphold them, I cannot help but worry. I suppose it's what keeps me on my knees as well. Just as God chose to harden Pharoah's heart that his wonders might be displayed in the land, I know God will use this opportunity to show the people how much he loves them and to help them realise that he is the Lord.
As my river of thoughts runs dry, here I end........
Saturday, 22 March 2008
desecrated
On the night of Good Friday, there’s a documentary on TV trying to piece together the 18 years of Jesus’ life that were not documented in the Bible. On Holy Saturday, there’s another documentary discussing about who wrote the Bible. Perhaps I ask myself why I am watching it, but there’s a part of me which realises that I need to in order to understand the desecration before us.
I find myself so emotionally and spiritually drained just hearing people refer to the Bible as a ‘history book’, or Christianity as a ‘religion’ or a ‘cult’. What has been documented in certain books of the Bible match the history books we have, so why do we still doubt its contents if it contains the tangible evidence we search for? They say that Moses could not have written the first five books of the Bible, so the real question is not about who wrote the bible, but who edited it? Edited? The audacity of man astounds me. You can’t edit the Bible like you do a primary school essay. In Matthew 5:18, Jesus himself said, “I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.” Moses may have penned the words, but God was the author. Could Moses have known about the beginning of Creation if God had not spoken to him?
The human nature is that of an argumentative one. We have been at war with God, ourselves and every other thing on earth since the day we were here. Put a group of five men together to write a book and there will be disagreement in no time. But the Bible, though having been ‘written’ by so many people, finds no contradiction in itself. Try finding a human explanation for that.
Jesus may have been tortured by the Roman soldiers, but perhaps the blows that we deal to him today are much worse. I remember the story of a young girl who died at the hands of her persecutors for refusing to spit on the Bible. In a small way, I can understand her pain. Seeing how others try to diminish the glory of God, by containing it in a jar and manufacturing it like a can of baked beans, is like a dagger through the heart, over and over again.
When will the day finally come when we look at our blood-stained hands and realise what we’ve done? It was only after Jesus took his last breath and the earth shook that the Roman soldier finally exclaimed ‘Surely this man was the Son of God!’ I pray that we will not wait until we find ourselves before the judgement seat before we say the same…
I find myself so emotionally and spiritually drained just hearing people refer to the Bible as a ‘history book’, or Christianity as a ‘religion’ or a ‘cult’. What has been documented in certain books of the Bible match the history books we have, so why do we still doubt its contents if it contains the tangible evidence we search for? They say that Moses could not have written the first five books of the Bible, so the real question is not about who wrote the bible, but who edited it? Edited? The audacity of man astounds me. You can’t edit the Bible like you do a primary school essay. In Matthew 5:18, Jesus himself said, “I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.” Moses may have penned the words, but God was the author. Could Moses have known about the beginning of Creation if God had not spoken to him?
The human nature is that of an argumentative one. We have been at war with God, ourselves and every other thing on earth since the day we were here. Put a group of five men together to write a book and there will be disagreement in no time. But the Bible, though having been ‘written’ by so many people, finds no contradiction in itself. Try finding a human explanation for that.
Jesus may have been tortured by the Roman soldiers, but perhaps the blows that we deal to him today are much worse. I remember the story of a young girl who died at the hands of her persecutors for refusing to spit on the Bible. In a small way, I can understand her pain. Seeing how others try to diminish the glory of God, by containing it in a jar and manufacturing it like a can of baked beans, is like a dagger through the heart, over and over again.
When will the day finally come when we look at our blood-stained hands and realise what we’ve done? It was only after Jesus took his last breath and the earth shook that the Roman soldier finally exclaimed ‘Surely this man was the Son of God!’ I pray that we will not wait until we find ourselves before the judgement seat before we say the same…
Friday, 14 March 2008
gladiator
"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38, 39
It's nearly toward the end of Lent and although usually God takes this period to reveal more of who he is to me, things are a little different this time. Rather, I've learnt more of who I am in him. It's not about being narcissistic but rather that, unless I learn how to see myself the way God sees me, I can never work towards what he wants me to become. Ironic but true.
For one thing, I've understood how to give myself wholly to love, no longer fearing that I might get distracted from God or confused between the concepts of human and Godly love. I understand the meaning of 1 John 4:18 - 'perfect love drives out all fear' and I've embraced the promise in Romans 8, that nothing can separate us from the love of God. It's really profoundly simple, but it takes a one-to-one with God to really wrap your head around it.
Recently, I watched a documentary on the gladiators fighting in the Colosseum and it told a story of a slave who became a gladiator. What was so intriguing about this story was that this particular gladiator and his opponent were granted his freedom at the end of the fight, although battles usually ended in death for one of the gladiators. But it brought to my mind, how we too, like slaves were redeemed by Jesus. We were chosen by him to fight the spiritual battles and when like Paul, have 'fought the good fight and finished the race', we gain life and freedom. Although the gladiators fought hard and some died fighting, they were freed from a life of slavery. So perhaps the Christian life isn't quite so different after all, we too were redeemed from a life of slavery, some will live to the end of their days, and some will die for the call.
I don't know where my call leads me, but I once read the beautiful story of a martyr who refused to deny Jesus because he had read the story of Peter's denial, and did not wish to weep bitterly. I have never been imprisoned or tortured, but too often, I have failed to weep as I should. Peter denied our Lord and forsook him when he had promised never to. It's human fear that made Peter deny Jesus and tell him that Jesus couldn't save him and he had to take matters into his own hands. Each time when trials come, and human nature gets in the way, and the panic makes me take things into my own hands, I do exactly what Peter did. It's a subtle denial, but a denial no less. By trying to fix things myself, it's as though I'm denying Jesus, and saying I don't know him, instead of giving him my problems to fix. Looking ahead, may it be that either I should know the bitter tears of denial, or that I should learn to really depend on our Lord.
It's nearly toward the end of Lent and although usually God takes this period to reveal more of who he is to me, things are a little different this time. Rather, I've learnt more of who I am in him. It's not about being narcissistic but rather that, unless I learn how to see myself the way God sees me, I can never work towards what he wants me to become. Ironic but true.
For one thing, I've understood how to give myself wholly to love, no longer fearing that I might get distracted from God or confused between the concepts of human and Godly love. I understand the meaning of 1 John 4:18 - 'perfect love drives out all fear' and I've embraced the promise in Romans 8, that nothing can separate us from the love of God. It's really profoundly simple, but it takes a one-to-one with God to really wrap your head around it.
Recently, I watched a documentary on the gladiators fighting in the Colosseum and it told a story of a slave who became a gladiator. What was so intriguing about this story was that this particular gladiator and his opponent were granted his freedom at the end of the fight, although battles usually ended in death for one of the gladiators. But it brought to my mind, how we too, like slaves were redeemed by Jesus. We were chosen by him to fight the spiritual battles and when like Paul, have 'fought the good fight and finished the race', we gain life and freedom. Although the gladiators fought hard and some died fighting, they were freed from a life of slavery. So perhaps the Christian life isn't quite so different after all, we too were redeemed from a life of slavery, some will live to the end of their days, and some will die for the call.
I don't know where my call leads me, but I once read the beautiful story of a martyr who refused to deny Jesus because he had read the story of Peter's denial, and did not wish to weep bitterly. I have never been imprisoned or tortured, but too often, I have failed to weep as I should. Peter denied our Lord and forsook him when he had promised never to. It's human fear that made Peter deny Jesus and tell him that Jesus couldn't save him and he had to take matters into his own hands. Each time when trials come, and human nature gets in the way, and the panic makes me take things into my own hands, I do exactly what Peter did. It's a subtle denial, but a denial no less. By trying to fix things myself, it's as though I'm denying Jesus, and saying I don't know him, instead of giving him my problems to fix. Looking ahead, may it be that either I should know the bitter tears of denial, or that I should learn to really depend on our Lord.
Tuesday, 5 February 2008
just how far
“For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.” Psalm 103: 11, 12
Those who know me are always puzzled about how I’m always smiling. My aunt always asked me how come I could still smile although people were scolding me. I’ve been scolded in class for smiling before. Today, a patient asked why I kept smiling. I asked her, ‘Would you prefer I frown?’ And she laughed and said ‘No, a smile is good.’ I’ve even known myself to break out into a smile while walking down the street because I brought a happy thought in my mind that tickled me. That may look silly, but not half as silly as if I were burst into tears while walking down the street for no reason.
I did nearly though. While waiting at the bus stop the other day, I played the new Casting Crowns song ‘East to West’ and the lyrics were so heart-wrenching that it nearly broke my heart. Each time I heard the words ‘Cause you know just how far the east is from the west, from one scarred hand to another.’ I’ve never thought about it that way. Recently, I’ve received lots of messages reminding me about my coming back to the cross. Indeed, the cross is meant to be a reminder of my sin, and I need to pick up that cross. So often I leave it at home when I walk out the door in the morning.
Tomorrow is the start of the 40-day fast. Usually I’m filled with such a wave of emotion and excitement. Not this time though. It’s something different. There is a strange quiet and calm within my heart. It’s like the deep breath before the plunge, minus the plunge. I can’t quite describe it. I have to say it bothers me a little because such quiet usually equates to restlessness for me, but all I really fancy is just sitting here quiet in the presence of God. So I’ll just sit here and wait upon the Lord.
Jesus, can you show me just how far the east is from the west,
Cause I can't bear to see the man I've been come rising up in me again
In the arms of your mercy I find rest
Cause you know just how far the east is from the west
From one scarred hand to the other
- East to West, Casting Crowns
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