if only you knew.

Avalon has been one of my favourite Christian bands because their songs always speak to me and I recently came across this beautiful song called 'Orphans of God'. And during my recent trip to Uganda, I truly experienced in my heart the true meaning of the song. The faces that I met speak of pain only our Father will ever know. 

This beautiful baby is only three days old. Her first home is a tent donated by the UNHCR and her next home will be a mud house where her mother's embrace will be the only thing that keeps out the cold. When she was born, there were no cameras to record or celebrate her birth. She has no crib or toys and her bed is an old jacket that was donated. 

This girl, doesn't look like a girl at all, with her three month old boy in her arms. But she is only 15 years old. One fateful night, rebels attacked her home and killed her mother. One of the rebels offered to make her his wife but she refused because she said she was too young to be a wife or mother. As a result, he raped her that night. Without a family to support her, she crossed the border to join other refugees, where they were picked by the UNHCR and brought to the safety of the transit centre. 

These are only but a few of the stories but there are thousands more to be told. Each one, known and loved by our Lord. 

Oh my dear brothers and sisters, if only you knew how much you are loved. 

Who here among us has not been broken?
Who here among us is without guilt or pain?
So oft' abandoned by our transgressions

If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

There are no strangers, there are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but Hallelujah
There are no orphans of God

Come ye unwanted and find affection
Come all ye weary, come and lay down your head
Come ye unworthy, you are my brother

If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

There are no strangers, there are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but Hallelujah
There are no orphans of God

O blessed Father, look down upon us
We are Your children, we need Your love
We run before Your throne of mercy
And seek Your face to rise above

There are no strangers, there are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but Hallelujah

There are no orphans of God

- Orphans of God, Avalon 

and the dry bones shall live...

"Son of man, look with your eyes and hear with your ears and pay attention to everything I am going to show you, for that is why you have been brought here." Ezekiel 40:4

Two nights ago, I lay there in my call room reading my Bible before trying to get some shut eye before the next admission. These few weeks I had been reading Ezekiel, which had always been to me one of the less interesting books to read.

But as I read the words of Ezekiel 36, of God's restoration of Israel, I felt the words come alive. I thought of the DRC and I felt God's heartbeat within me. How he loved and longed for his people to give up their ways, so that they could return and be called his people. The next night of course was Ezekiel 37 - where Ezekiel is in the valley of the dry bones. I know that when the time is right God will breathe his spirit into those dry bones and they will live too.

Right now, there is another hour before I board the flight to Entebbe, the rays of the early morning Dubai sun shines down upon me as I type these words. As my eyes strain to meet the brightness of the sun, I imagine the words of Ezekiel 40, the vision of the new temple. I hear the words of Ezekiel 40:4… I know that God has brought me here today to this purpose, to see and hear what he wants me to know. I know that one day, all this shall pass. The corruption, the sorrow, the suffering. The sun will shine all the brighter because a new day has come.

how to save a life...

I look back at my blog and find it surprised that I haven't written once since the end of last year. Then again when I look back, I see how busy and how spiritually dry I have become that it's not surprising at all. Just sad.

I did write a post after my time in Chiang Mai, when I visited a children's home. It was such a touching and humbling experience and definitely noteworthy. But after I came back I never found the time to post the entry. I am glad to say that now our church has started a child sponsorship programme so that now these children no longer go hungry but I have no part to play in this. It is God who did all this, not me.

Nonetheless, I have always looked to missions as my spiritual oasis and have never even thought to find it here in Singapore, let alone my workplace. Working in the intensive care unit has been just as intense for me as for the patients and their families, emotionally.In the ICU, each day is a battle, a battle for life.How do you let go when you see a young, healthy person die of a pneumonia? Even when you have tried everything possible to save them? How then do you try even harder when you see their young children crying outside the room because they will never see their mother or father again? You can't. It physically isn't possible. But I have to rely on the supernatural to give me strength. That at the end of the day, you can only do your best. God may heal them, or he may not. But in every life we come across, there is a lesson to be learnt.

In the ICU, my emotions have been pushed to the limits. I have felt the pain and sorrow of watching a family lose a loved one to the joy of watching a patient make a recovery and go home well. But the medical practice is more than just a mix of joy and sorrow. It is also interspersed with its moments of frustration, doubt and confusion. As doctors, we live to the rule of 'primum non nocere' but sometimes even when we have done our best for our patients and their families, there is little time left to grieve for the loss of a patient or rejoice in the satisfaction of successful treatment. There are times when we need to deal with the aftermath, pick up the pieces, deal with the complaints that come or accusations that we didn't try hard enough or gave up hope. 

So how do you save a life? We may not always know how, but we sure put up one hell of a fight. 

the ties that bind

Going to the Congo was a life-changing experience. I saw sights that were forever ingrained in my memory. It was an encounter that propelled me to want to change the world and to do all I could for these people. 

But the events of this week have sent my world crumbling. It was such a shock to find out that the rebels had advanced into Goma, a city once known to be the hub for humanitarian intervention and the peacekeeper's homeground. 

It shook me to the core knowing that the ground that I had tread barely two weeks ago was merely a shadow of a warzone. Since my departure from Goma, I had dreamt of going back to Kanyaruchinya, with blankets, shelter and food for these people. Now Kanyaruchinya is no more. The people have been scattered or killed.

How do you weep for thousands? I don't know how. But it was a painful experience trying. I don't know when I can go back. I want to go back. I know people tell me I am lucky that I wasn't there when the violence started and I know that God protected me. But all I can think of is standing where I once was and trying to help them but I don't know how. 

May God give us all the strength to stand. To those in Goma, our thoughts and prayers are with you. 

the rain

"I love the rain because then no one knows I'm crying." 

I have always wondered why people say that whenever they are sad, it rains. On the contrary, I like the rain. I love the smell of the rain and the freshness of the air after the rain has come and gone. There is a sort of cleanness after the rain and everything just looks brighter when the sun begins to shine on the glistening raindrops. After all, you can only see rainbows after it's rained. 

But I have just returned from a land where there are no rainbows after the rain. There is no shelter from the rain and the skies still look bleak after a shower. A tear falls as each raindrop hits the ground but the tears still fall long after the clouds have dried up. 


I am talking about Kanyaruchinya, a refugee camp which opened just over 6 months ago but already home to over 80,000 people displaced people. So many fight for their survival each day. Many go without food for days, praying for the next truck to bring some food to them. Others sleep on the mud in the pouring rain, hoping that they will the sunrise tomorrow.

 There is no future in sight. Only the next minute counts. Will they go home? Will they die here? Will food come tomorrow? Will the war be over soon? In a life full of uncertainties, there is one thing we are certain of. Jesus loves them, we tell them. They are here, away from the unrest, where many are still dying from the conflict. They are safe and they are living this very moment. They are better off than those who have been killed by rebel forces. It may not be much comfort. You could say a life like this is no life at all. But there is a reason they are here at that very moment, as are we. 

I know I will never forget what I have seen in Kanyaruchinya. Each time you see the rain, remember the people in Kanyaruchinya. 

now

The other day I happened to watch an episode of an old show called 'Touched by an Angel'. The story was about a woman who had refused to go to Sudan to help the slaves in order to secure her position as a minister in the next election. That was until her young son found pictures of the refugees in her briefcase and began to raise funds for them without her approval. To the end, she was adamant not to go until the angel revealed herself to her and told her that the mission could not happen without her. 

As she gave the money raised by her young son to redeem each slave, they played a song called 'For such a time as this' by Wayne Watson. The song speaks of the life of Esther, who had been placed in a position of honour so that she could help others, even if it would cost her her life. I am no minister, president or anyone important by far, but I am privileged enough to have been placed in a position to help the people in the Congo. Can I not go? I know that 'No' is not an answer. God has not called many to this place and I am but one of them. I cannot not heed this call for I am here for such a time as this. 

Now, all I have is now
To be faithful
To be holy
And to shine
Lighting up the darkness
Right now, I really have no choice
But to voice the truth to the nations
A generation looking for God

For such a time as this
I was placed upon the earth
To hear the voice of God 
And do His will
Whatever it is
For such a time as this
For now and all the days He gives
I am here, I am here
And I am His
For such a time as this

You - Do you ever wonder why
Seems like the grass is always greener
Under everybody else's sky
But right here, right here for this time and place
You can live a mirror of His mercy
A forgiven image of grace

Can't change what's happened till now
But we can change what will be
By living in holiness
That the world will see Jesus

unworthy

After so many phone calls, I find myself back at square one. I have no choice but to go to Delhi myself to obtain my visa. The other option was much easier - not to go to the Congo. But how could I give up so easily? I know that this dream was placed in my heart by God and I had to see it through. Besides, how could I disappoint those who had given so much to support the people there? 

So, to the shock and dismay of many, I booked myself on a flight to Dnelhi. From the time I boarded the plane, I knew God was telling me that it would not be easy, that I would have more obstacles on this trip and I had to be ready. I can't remember ever feeling this scared and I remember the words, 'Perfect love drives out all fear.' 

After disembarking, I am greeted by a hotel attendant who tells me that I cannot stay in the hotel because it is located in the departure lounge. So I have nowhere to stay for the night and my main worry is that I will get fleeced by all these people. I finally get a hotel and into a taxi and on the ride there, I hear God telling me 'How can you learn the lessons I have for you if you are so guarded?' I am so apprehensive and so defensive that I am ready to bite at any moment. 

Finally, I can rest my head for the night with the promise of a new day. I drop my passport off with ease only for them to tell me later that my cheque has been rejected. After three stops and 30 mins of running around town, I finally find a money changer. As I finally get out of the taxi to the airport, the driver tells me I owe him an extra 300 rupees for the air-conditioning. Finally at the airport, I know I can a breathe a sigh of relief. Or so I thought. I'm 9 hours early for my flight so I have to wait another 3 hours to enter the terminal. Unfortunately, there are no earlier flights to Singapore and I will just have to wait it out. 

I know what everyone is thinking, they are thinking that I am a fool. That I would go so far just to go to the Congo and I should give up. That perhaps this is God's way of telling me not to go . As I sat in that taxi, looking at my reflection in the rear-view mirror of the taxi, I am fighting hard to swallow the tears. Why me? And I know that he never promised it would be easy, he promised that I would never walk alone. I clutch the cross around my neck and realise the tears are tears of shame. I told God that I would love to be counted worthy to be a martyr and yet with such little testing, I have proved myself so unfaithful and so unworthy. I wonder how he can use me. Jesus said that no one who looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God. 

Having spent this whirlwind of a day in India, I realise the lesson God has for me. I am so unworthy to follow him but I pray that he will continue to mold me and make me fit for his service.