Saturday, December 31
Happy New Year!
Spent my NYE afternoon with an old friend's worship team practice. I really like their environment: lovingly encouraging. Sure, patience wears thin, but the form of genuine friendship and care shines through such teeth-gritting times.
Sidenote: I need to declare my love for Borobudur's ang ku kueh!
I need to get going, get going, get going lahhh. Nothing's quite progressing academically and I'm fretting. C'mon! I spend so much money on freakin' school fees and I dare fall short of my own expectations? Someone slap some sense into me, please.
Moving onto something more exciting. We are going busking! That's Shannybabe, Emmy the Wormy and Maria! That'll be a cool 2006. Let's do this together! Let's sing, sing, sing and have fun!
You know, I was thinking that this blog lacks a little content. It's all just fragments and rambling. Nothing constructive or enlightening. 2006 will be a time of change (:
So.
Watch this space for renovations.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 10:08 PM
Tuesday, December 27
4 jobs I've had in my life:
- Pushcart sales
- Relief teacher
- Receptionist (actually, it's kopi-soh)
- One of those temperature-takers at KK
4 movies I could watch over and over:
- Jeux D'enfants
- Romeo+Juliet
- Black Hawk Down
- Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights
4 TV shows you love to watch:
- America's Next Top Model
- Desperate Housewives
- What Women Want Really
- IN ?? Closet Affairs
4 of your favourite food:
- Belachan Kangkong
- Arnott's Mint Slice
- Potato Chips
- The non-existent McSpicy Double (It became single!)
4 schools you attended:
- Bedok Town Primary
- Dunman High School
- St Andrews JC
- Ngee Ann Poly
4 places I'd rather be now:
- Tibetan mountains
- Rome
- Grocery shopping at NTUC
- In my bed, dammit!
4 things you find yourself saying:
- Wah liauuuuuuu!
- Fwah!
- Phooey.
- Shudduppp!
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:51 AM
Horrid, horrid!
All I taste is the smarting bitterness that lingers on my tongue relentlessly - the taste of fever. No matter how many times I brush my teeth and scrape my tongue, it's there.
Phooey.
So, Christmas is past. (oh, finally)
No more maria(s), m'ams or turkeys (XXXXXL).
No more mops, feather dusters or pails.
It was a night of a thousand sneezes.
Pardon the minute hysteria, for I have fallen ill in the midst of Christmas camaraderie. How very unfortunate, I know. Blame no one, but the unscrupulous claws of the torturous institution called school. Why, I work harder than that fat, blubbery man in red suits this Christmas! 'Tis utmost injustice!
See lah. I am getting a little out of hand. The reins of emotional control are slipping out of my jelly hands. I get too happy and too kvetchy. I need to listen to some very happy songs.
Watch my triple chin! --> ((((:
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:22 AM
Tuesday, December 20
It's been a blessed birthday.
A wonderful closure to my eighteenth year of oxygen depletion.
I expected an ersatz eighteenth but I must admit, cynicism got the better of me a year ago. For the past 365 days, and counting, God's grace has been sufficient. If it cannot exactly be excellent eighteenth, at least a eureka eighteenth will do fine.
As I cross the obvious mark and leap into the last lap of my teenagehood, everything suddenly seems much more precious, much more real. There are a thousand things I want to try, and some more... ... Time is rather unkind. Having green hair is hardly acceptable beyond the big-two. Neither is shaving half my head, or trying kids meals, or simply acting plain stupid in public areas.
Of course, life is not all sweet and dandy for me. But that is besides the point, really. I learn to look at the brighter side and thank God for it. I mean, things can be much worse so why hanker after that which is beyond reach? I say it with ease; I do it with strife. I cannot help being a terribly slow student, but rest assure - I'm learning.
There are rocky moments, naturally. I fall to temptation. I compromise. I traded times of refreshing with Him for times of not-so-much-refreshing with my bed. I allowed guilt to overcome me. I believed in the devil's lies. An unstable little lush surrounded by spirits of old. A high stool with one leg short. These will be the barricades I need to clear. It'll be hard, but I like to remember that Jesus is right beside me.
All I want now, is to know that my family will be with me in Heaven.
School is the same.
Everything adds up to the nightmare before christmas.
Don't get me wrong - I actually like Tim Burton's work, but all I'm saying is:
- one, I lack sleep;
- two, I am in a bit of entanglement with feature and webd;
- three, I am absolutely unprepared for christmas musical.
Looking pallid.
Do pray for me (:
d e b b e e e kvetched at 12:42 AM
Monday, December 12
Overwhelmed.
Five days after the official break of camp.
119 hours and 56 minutes, to be exact.
I take a long time to finally put these down in legible words. 'These' being almost everything that happened over the four days, three nights. It's got to be be cryptic or no. Well, I'm really not making much sense, but surely that's immaterial at this moment. All I know is that I'm overwhelmed - have been, and still very much am.
Youth camps have always been something special, something I cherish in my early teenage years. Perhaps the invisible fingers of Time turned a page, or two, in my life? The special feelings lessened. Only beautiful memories, mottled with age, remain. The Dark Ages entered. That is another story for another time. And by November '04, I was already far, far away from the Youth, and from God's embrace.
For fear of missing His embrace, His grace was, and is, sufficient. Yes, even when I told myself, "O Good Lord, I am never coming back to this Youth again." I laugh at myself now, and I tell God that He pulls some really brilliant stunts. I like to think He just chuckled at my ridiculous manners, stretched His little finger and prodded me along a little carousel to where I found my first love with Him: Youth.
Under ordinarily sane and logical circumstance, I will never be caught dead in another Youth camp after I foolishly uttered the abovementioned line. Okay, laugh all you want now because God, who planted the special seeds of yearning in me, never did allow these feelings to die down completely. I headed down for Changed '04 and never did regret it.
In Changed '04, Martin gave the word:
Do you pray a lot?
You like to pray, right?
God loves to hear you pray...
(Memory fails. I cannot remember what are the exact words and I don't dare to make them up for fear of Judgement Day. It's something about me being a prayer warrior and intercessor for this Youth)
... You are different from the rest. You know, some people will go out there on the front of the stage but there are also people who stay in the background to do support work? That's you. You will be the one supporting this group of people in prayer. Intercede for them... ...
It's almost like Moses wandering around in the desert for forty, long years and then one morning he wakes up to find himself already in the land with milk and honey.
It's like being thrown out to the sea and then finding that the waters are as shallow as the wading pool if only I will cease thrashing around and blindly walking towards the deep pool.
It's like giving me a tissue when I cry and saying "Don't worry. I'm not asking you to stop your tears. Cry all you want and just blow your nose on that tissue. I have more with me if it's not enough."
It's like romancing with God.
It's like... ... magic!
Almost one year passed. There are obviously times when I think I probably heard Martin wrongly and shouldn't be in Youth lah. The lies that float all around. Phooey. Working within a committee of ten is the epitome of 'iron sharpens iron' (we really do make sure we sharpen each other), and 'refiner's fire' (oh, the trying times). The truth cannot be plainer: all ten of us are so unique, we are undoubtedly complementary. The committee emerged one year-old and stronger than ever.
Splendid.
You see, each and every committee member entered A.S.K. '05 with our own ideals and visions and expectations. I had to hear from Him again. I had to. I stepped into Caleb Room on December 4, 2005, with one prayer, "God, there must be more than this. Speak to me. Overwhelm me." Ah, His unfailing love. There's no denying of His love.
Only He knows what makes me tick. Despite the onslaught of pressure from schoolwork, et cetera, He showed me love. It was a whole new dimension of worship in my eyes, shut tight. He spoke. Not once, but twice. He overwhelmed me.
In A.S.K. '05, Martin gave another word:
Have you ever written songs?
Okay, have you ever had little tunes or lyrics floating around in your mind?
It is time for you to start writing songs?? Write some songs and sing them. Lead worship with the songs that you write. Sing your songs in this Youth.
I sense a sweet spirit within you.
Yes, yes... a sweet, sweet spirit inside you.
Write songs.
Write songs for God, okay?
Will you write songs and sing them for God?
I sense you are a melancholic person.
Are you a person of melancholy?
You know what is a person of melancholy?
Melancholies are people who always reflect, in deep thought and tend to be sad? you know, depressed?
HAHAHAHAHAHA! Yes! Melancholies are the best songwriters!
HAHAHAHAHAHA! Reuben Morgan is a hardcore melancholic!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Being a person of melancholy is nothing wrong. It just means you reflect more and that is when you find the ability to write songs for God. There is no need to rush things? you don?t have to go back straight away and start writing songs. Just do it when the words and songs come to you. Okay?
Beautiful. But I was greedy, I wanted more. I told God, "Is that all? Is that all You want to tell me, God? How about something more? Make Martin turn back, please please please... ... Make him retreat a few steps and tell me something more, can? Can?"
"OVERWHELM MEEEEEEEEEEEE..................."
Wonderful God. Wonderful, O God. His unfailing love lah. God spoke again, since I was such an insistently annoying little pest, then. Pastor Mark gave the word this time round, but as this post is getting too long, too long, it will be anotehr story for another time.
All I can say is I'm overwhelmed - have been, and still very much am. This is the best birthday present in all my nineteen years. I still have tomorrow to round up my eighteenth year in this world on a very satisfied note - probably just to close my eyes tight.
To close my eyes and feel God near. Very near.
Cry
City Harvest Church
[verse]
Lost in You alone
is where I want to be
To hear Your voice
Softly in my ears
You whisper words to me
That I am Yours
[tag]
Can't liv a day without Your presence
Closer to You, I want to be
[chorus]
My soul cries out
for more of You, my Lord
My portion and hope
I close my eyes and feel You near
There's nobody else
that can take Your place in my heart
d e b b e e e kvetched at 12:54 PM
Thursday, December 1
It's really a D-isappointment.
And so it is.
Days are rushed and nights, fretful.
If destined as such my paths are laid, then deny no more the error of my way.
I have since swallowed the bitter pill of a wayward style.
The onus has been lost for good.
This funny, little thing called happiness is nothing.
I rather remain stoic for a lesser hassle.
But for now, I have to contend the night away with heart pangs, attributed to a mish-mash of guilt, sadness and indignance. I feel horrible, and I can't guess for how long will such a phase last. I take minimal comfort in knowing that perhaps, I would never recognise sweetness apart from this bitter pill... ... or these bitter pills.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:06 AM