I Am The Light

I am the light of the living mind

The connected and divided line

I am the bursting blinding light

The star that keeps the moon alive

I am the curious firefly

The candle on a sleepless night

I am the sleepy sun-kissed sky

The morning moment personified

I am the waking dream inside

Imagining what's real and why

I am the man-made satellite

The constellations' guest tonight

I am the light of the living mind

The shifting shadows in the cave of life

I am the wanting watery eyes

Always burning for a brighter sight

Create, Arrive.

Why is it so hard to create? Rather, do we create or recreate? Is it then possible to (re)create without purpose - or is that a necessary contradiction? A song, a stroke, a thought - so wonder the minds of the works of a God who spoke the universe into being.

I visited ABBAS yesterday with a friend, and even encountered the penmanship of others whom I haven't seen in a long time in the visitors' log, to my pleasant surprise. It was immersive. It was a story of a man trying to tell a story. The monochrome displays spoke volumes of soul-drenched history into the dark expanses of the exhibition. The stinging skepticism with which he framed reality compartmentalised his thought as much as the ebony dividers did his photography in the hall.

More significantly for me, his words lingered. "The traveller never arrives." I knew what that meant, somewhat. It was his creative process. But later in the evening, I realised I might say the same thing in a different way. It seems to Abbas, the traveller never arrives because his wanderlust is precisely his destination. In that way, it might make more compositional sense to say that the traveller is always arriving.

Fighting in Futility

We fight futility in futility. That Japan both declares and dissolves the nuclear age in its affliction with radioactive scourge across two centuries. That elite servicemen who in Pakistan so masterfully excised the sovereign terrorist of our age perish without resistance in a helicopter crash. That the very currencies that beckon to the avarice of individuals do only but suck entire populations into the whirlpool of social failure.

It does not ultimately matter if we will have 2000 more university seats. Were not the worst perpetrators of the twentieth and bloodiest century amongst the most educated people on the planet? The issue is not education; the issue is salvation.

"For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God." Rom 8:20-21

Who subjected the creation to futility? It was neither Adam, nor the Devil. Not ultimately. It was God. Because only God can subject it in hope. His purposes are final and unbreakable, and to know them is such preciousness in this age.

Next

Discounting ten days of leave, I have exactly six more months left in service. Much has happened, and just as much has changed.

But the jury is still out on my next stop.

Yet, it's been a rewarding trial. Though I haven't the slightest clue of the verdict, I'm learning to be joyful in precisely that.

Festivity

I don't quite get the name Festival of Praise. It seems to imply that exultation is seasonal. Like mooncake. King David certainly did hold festivals to give praise. But more importantly, he tried harder to sing of an inner, permanent festivity in which the deepest sorrows could only but turn him toward the deepest Joy.

"I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth." Ps 34:1

Public Secrets

When asked how I know

so well, I simply say, "I

do it by doubting."

When asked how I write

so well, I simply say, "I

do it with a pen."

When asked how I speak

so well, I simply say, "I

do it consciously."

When asked how I sing

so well, I simply say, "I

do it around friends."

When asked how I act

so well, I simply say, "We

do it everyday."

Sunrise

When your heart begins to break for those paralysed by the blindness of sin, you know that God has awakened your soul to bleed the very love that spilled from the veins of Christ as He choked on Calvary.

And oh, how sweet and rending it is an awakening to this sunrise of godly grace!

The Button and The Finger

At the heels of my previous post, The Button, I shudder to find myself guilty of what I'm about to accuse, but I write on.

I've recently been quite cast down at my workplace by just one person. I simply can't see how anyone can treat everybody under his management merely as a means to an end, no more than that, and still have a clear conscience. The unbridled hypocrisy in every conversation shared is simply piercing to me. And its effect on the spirit is as jarring as having Marx preach alienation to your ears ten hours every day.

It didn't take me long to remember that this was in fact commonplace in the corporate jockeyship. Or in fact in any group of organised peoples. I was just not used to it. Still, is my shock misplaced?

Yet, if my faith isn't where it is today, The Button would have sunk me right into those blameworthy shoes, if I'm not already one foot in. Wrapped around his little finger, I guess I had no choice but to look at my own hands. Furthermore, the Apostle Paul's exhortation for us to become all things to men for the sake of the gospel - we easily turn it on its head by our callous desire for men to all but become mere things to us. Therefore the button is not the problem. The button-pusher is.

I think it's fair to say: If there is no love, then there is only utility. Learning how to love is a tiring affair, and I rest my soul on the hope of this godly appeal.

We must play. But our merriment must be of the kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feelings for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner - no mere tolerance or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment.

C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

The Button

I've come to learn that the art of persuasion concerns itself not with bulletproof logic or silky eloquence. It's about pushing the button.

Not too long ago, I theorised that everyone has a green button and a red button. If I want to convince someone of a matter, I must keep my finger on the green button and never hit the red button. If I want to achieve the opposite, I simply need to hit the red button once, maybe twice. For the sake of my job, and for fun, I put this hypothesis to the test.

And I was not disappointed. Perhaps I was, in the 'human' sense of it all, but not by how well the theory worked to my ends (I had only sufficient gonads to try the red button once). So, if you want to know how to persuade someone, simply find out what his green and red button is.

Of course, whether what is said makes sense remains staple to the package of persuasion. But like how you won't have rice without the dishes, sense becomes nonsense when it is seen as sense and sense alone. Ironic, no?

But this is, after all, quite sweeping a sweeping statement. Hope has it that a good number of people do exist who assess matters as justly and objectively as they can. I struggle to be one of them. And I guess all this only goes to show that while humans are by nature rational creatures, hardly are they ever reasoning creatures.

Tangled

Last week I visited some forgotten place that has since been converted to a storage facility for military equipment. It was my duty to inspect the upkeep of giant panels of wood that were occasionally assembled into structures for urban training, and so I did.

Then I saw something not completely unexpected, but rather strange. There were plenty of cobwebs - those were not unexpected. But there was one web, laced with dust and clearly forsaken, with insects trapped in it - on it - whatever. They were two beetles and one moth, all very small varieties, weak, unattended and barely alive. The moth fluttered eerily. Now that was a strange sight. I thought it was rather poignant really, and pitiful, perhaps even pathetic, to be caught by a neglected contraption as if its intent was the only thing that had yet to be abandoned.

How many times does something like that happen in life? One's past is always sticky, sometimes even knotty. Then I wondered when I started sympathising with arthropods. Thankfully, I didn't see any termites.

Post-Results Pre-Voting Post

Does the title sound confusing? It's as accurate as I could have named it, I think. I wrote this on Facebook a few days ago. Just thought it should go into the archives.

How To Remember God During The GE

On the eve of our 2011 GE, which has been the cause of much unprecedented furor, I couldn’t resist bringing something different to the table.

For those of us who pledge allegiance to a higher kingdom without statesmen or politicians, we must be wondering how all this makes sense in eternity. What would honour God in a time like this?

Well, I am part of the group that will not be voting tomorrow. For us, I think we should thankful for the fact that we live in a country that actually holds elections. We should be aware that democracy is biblical because no man, or group of men, in the depths of his sin, should hold unlimited power. Democracy distributes power, which so easily corrupts. Only Christ, in His perfection of grace and righteousness, is worthy of a throne that wields absolute authority. (Admittedly, the degree, form and practice of democracy is another issue to think about, but not what I want to convey here.)

Then there are many of you who will be making the decision tomorrow. I can only say that you should be as saturated with His Word as you can possibly be, so that by the renewing of your mind, you will be able to test and approve of the will of God (Rom 12:2) and its alignment to the perceived agenda of each political party.

Ultimately, whether or not we are casting our votes tomorrow, trust well in the sovereignty of God. Trust that the lot is cast into the lap, but every decision is from the Lord (Prov 16:33); that rulers and powers are raised and instituted by the Lord (Rom 13:1); that the counsel of the Lord is perfect (Psa 33:11); and that justice will always, always belongs to the Lord (Heb 10:30).

We are called to be in this world – to be politically aware, attentive and active if we must. Yet we are not of this world; we look to the Ruler whose governance will soon do without the establishment of imperfect governances. The kingdom is at hand.

In conclusion, let us render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s. Let our anthem and rally be that of God’s sovereignty, and our conviction be that by the time Singapore becomes a footnote in the pages of history, Christ will reign over all tribes and tongues with a glory that the world has never before seen.