#64: Add/drop

2010 is going to be a big year for me for many reasons. That is, I will have a lot of responsibilities to discharge. As far as my postgrad timetable was concerned, I needed something that would allow me to proactively and simultaneously engage those responsibilities. I needed a workable timetable. Never in my life have I had problems with creating a good timetable. For this term, however, I was running into all sorts of problems. The possible schedules were looking very unfriendly, in part because it was mandatory for me to complete certain courses. Time was running, but I had the feeling that it would be all right. I took what others might deem the risky approach — dropping courses that did not fit (rather than hoarding them as “insurance”); and being waitlisted for courses where prospects did not look that great (popular teacher/course). The school administration was hounding me: not only did I lack sufficient credits to graduate, I had not registered for any mandatory course yet. As I prayed for a way out, I discovered what was standing in the way. It was one of the courses which I thought I should take. Turned out that I did not like how the course was going to be run. Despite all my preconceptions about how it would be the most relevant course for me, it was causing all the log jam for me. When I dropped it, I was able to construct a two-day plan for myself — after the queue for one of the waitlisted subjects reduced drastically and I was able to add it even though technically I could not. As will be elaborated in a future post perhaps, this is very important for me this year — and not only because I wish for more rest! Indeed, my undertaking of the long paper is reaping dividends even though it remains incomplete — it cleared a substantial number of credits so that this term is lighter. Sometimes, holding on to what we think is best may stop us from reaching the greater result. Likewise, focusing on the short term obstacles may blind us to the long term (and larger) benefit.

#63: My brother

I mentioned my younger brother in an earlier post – the one who gets worried about exams and who feels like my sister and I took up the “smart” genes in the family. I would say, however, that my brother is probably the most remarkable in terms of what he has been through and overcome.

When he was in primary school, my brother experienced pain in his left hip. My mother thought it was due to his activities at school and we did not think much of it. However, one day the pain was so severe my brother was unable to move. It was then that we discovered that he had rheumatoid athritis – a disease affecting the joints. If not treated properly this could lead to joint destruction. My brother was immediately pulled from physcial education class and the swimming team. Further, he was not supposed to engage in any strenuous physical activity. You can imagine how devastated a young boy like him was. Not only did he have to endure a lot of pain and take regular medication, he was barred from all his favourite sports. Because the disease was a life-long one with no cure – it had to be managed and lived with – my family and our Christian friends prayed together for a miracle. Well, my brother’s pain gradually lessened and he returned to school but he still could not engage in sports. I could tell he was affected by this – I remember him being a hot-tempered little boy who often felt frustrated over little things. But to his credit, he managed and life went on.

A few years later, my brother met with another set back. In the later years of primary school he struggled with English to the extent that his teacher suspected that there was something more to it than late development. She recommended that he be tested for dyslexia. The results were positive and my brother began to attend special classes outside of class time to teach him how to cope with this disability. My brother willingly went for class and worked very hard. However, our family knew that he was upset. He often confided in my sister and me, and he wondered why he was the one with all the “problems”. There was no answering that question and we all helped each other as best as we could.

I cannot remember exactly when, but there came a point of breakthrough in my brother’s life when he was in his late teens. He had learned all there was to learn at the dyslexia association and began to put that into practice. He excelled academically in his GCE A level examinations despite struggling through most of his secondary school and junior college days, defying the dire predictions from his teachers who probably wanted to manage my parents’ expectations. His personality also underwent a change. He became less introverted, frustrated and quick-tempered. In fact, comparing the angry little boy and the friendly, laughing young man I now know, I cannot believe they were the same person. My brother also declared to us that he believed God had healed him of his rheumatoid athritis – he said he wanted to prove it by picking up sports again. The rest of us weren’t so sure but he was old enough to decide such matters for himself and we could only urge him to take things slowly and be careful.

My brother showed me his “training journal” once. On the very first day he had attempted to go for a run, he wrote about how he was breathless, panting and exhausted after about 500 metres. He felt like giving up because it was so difficult after so many years of inactivity. But he persevered. The day came when he decided to run a marathon. This time around we all tried to dissuade him. A marathon was too long, ordinary people don’t run marathons, much less someone like him. He didn’t listen to us. He said that he was sure that God would give him the strength to do it and began training for the event. On the day of the marathon, our family went to support him and in the back of my mind I thought it was better to be near in case something happened. It was a great experience for me to see him run by us as we waved and shouted on the sidelines. I felt so proud. We didn’t hang around for the entire duration of the race though and we went home to await his return after rushing to another point to cheer him on.

Soon after he completed the race, he sent all those of us who knew he was running that marathon an SMS. In it, he thanked God he had finished the race and said that he had done it for a reason – to show that God could do miracles for all of us. At about that time, my aunt had a failed in-vitro fertilisation operation. She was almost 40 and this was her last attempt at trying to have a child. She later told us she was very encouraged by my brother’s SMS and I think this event played a big part in her later willingness to open her mind to learning more about Jesus. She didn’t try anymore treatments but miraculously, she was blessed with a child after she turned 40. But that is another story with its fair share of heartache and pain because that child was born with a heart that could not function properly.

Back to my brother – I think he is an excellent example of what God can do for us, even though getting to that point of victory comes after much suffering, doubt and pain. If we can go beyound focusing on “why” something happens and keep the faith, we leave room for life-changing miracles to happen.

#62: Suffering

According to my pastor, there was a recent article in the NYT written by a US aid worker regarding the Haiti disaster relief situation. This worker could not believe that many Haitians — a highly spiritually resolute people, I’m told — were praying for God to help them and asking others to pray for them as well. The argument, simply, was that this was either futile because God doesn’t exist for this worker, or that the God these Haitians believe in has forsaken them. Seeing that the praying was not impeding relief efforts, however, makes one question the real motivation and purpose for such vitriol. Which is not to say that my pastor agreed with all the responses of the Christian brethren either: he mentioned too, how an influential evangelist had publicly attributed this disaster to Haiti’s “voodoo past”, ie, not personal retribution but paying for the sins of their elders (for this, he told us to read Job and Luke).

But perhaps the most important point that was actually raised by my pastor in church today is about how our human efforts to intellectualise or rationalise the how and why of suffering has and will never give us satisfactory answers — in fact we will only end up tormenting ourselves, and others. The despair and anguish then makes us the accuser and the blame game begins. Certainly for people who do not believe in God, everything in this world can only be explained by human constructs, such as science, history and logic. But human explanations of life (including suffering) will never be (and has never been) complete, or even accurate to begin with. Scientific theories are constantly challenged, restated and abandoned; the same with philosophical assurances, assumptions and conclusions; and legal concepts are possibly the worst at pretending to manage societal needs and making sense of the world around us. The result of hanging on to such limited constructs in building our worldview is that we hang ourselves spiritually.

Yet certain criticisms levelled against God (or the non-existence of) in the context of suffering can be met with quite plainly even in the secular realm; most times, we only need to consider what the Bible actually claims, and not be misled by secular conceptions of God’s promises foisted upon everyone. Biblical claims will of course be subject to differences in interpretation, but that does not detract from the fact that biblical claims should be met in those terms. Let us then revisit the Haiti situation.

The first criticism is causation. It can come in several forms, though not limited to the following two reductions: (a) God unleashed the natural disaster on Haiti (for “good reason” or otherwise); and (b) even if God did not cause the disaster, He did/could not stop the disaster or He has not provided any remedy after the disaster. Needless to say of course, this criticism must presuppose that God exists, unless the argument is that God is either not omnipotent, or simply malevolent — but I’ve never met a person who is a non-believer because he really thinks God is evil; he simply thinks God is an illusion. It must also presuppose that man plays no distinct role (and therefore has no responsibility) in the decisions he makes. So, as far as human legal constructs go, the logistical impossibility of causation is ameliorated by the concept of remoteness. Thus, if I crash my car because I was texting on my phone, the cellphone company bears no legal responsibility. But is such line-drawing principled, or pragmatic? Regardless, blaming God seems to cut across all the remoteness barriers we place for everything else in life. Moreover, very often the promises of Christianity are seen only through the positive lens, and the flip-sides are forgotten. Such as the fact that we live in a broken and fallen world, or that suffering is inevitable, or that we have true autonomy and will over our lives. If we put all of that together and take a moment to process it, we may better understand why there is so much powerful faith in the poorer and more ravaged parts of the world.

The second common criticism is this distinction we draw between good people and bad people, or deserving people and undeserving people. It is indirectly related to a recurring Christian conundrum: are we saved by grace alone (as opposed to good works). But the point is we are all sinners, whether it be “big” or “small” sins that we commit. On that broad level we are all the same to God. Indeed, even the most entrenched atheist will not claim that there are people with no sin whatsoever (to be sure, people who deny the existence of right and wrong will raise a separate argument but since they do not believe in right or wrong, their assertion cannot be right to begin with and thus, need not be considered seriously; then there are those who purport to make a more “nuanced” argument, in that there is no right or wrong in relation to moral questions — but these people will not believe that things like rape or genocide are immoral, and so they should also not be taken seriously). Sinners are sinners — points of departure may be in the number of sins committed and the egregiousness of such sin; or, from a biblical point of view, whether there is contrition, repentance, seeking forgiveness and the acknowledgment of God. Even so, the “least sinful” people on earth will still not deny that they are not “good people”, borne not out of false modesty but a simple nod to human nature. Importantly for Christians, the Bible doesn’t promise that “good people” (as we conceive them) will be given the better lot in life. The stories in the Bible bear this out.

And the third criticism is linked to the first and second criticisms: why me; why do I have to suffer? Again, the Bible has described to us not only the inevitable, unpredictable and indiscriminate nature of suffering, but also the purpose. In the broad, abstract sense, the fact that our time on earth is simply temporary and there are bigger, eternal things out there for us — it just may seem not comforting enough at times. And perhaps for that reason, the Bible further lays down the responses we should adopt in times of suffering: praying, lifting up God and praising Him. Many terrible developments we see in the world today are part of the larger war that is happening; spiritual warfare, as it has been termed. By going to God first, we find our best weapon against these attacks. It seems completely counter-intuitive — superstitious, even — but there you have it. Quite unequivocally, Christians are told how to respond in times of suffering. Ask not how or why; simply take it to God. At the same time, we fight the war of spiritual attack in the form of helping others rebuild their lives, for talk is cheap.

#61: We cannot see the future

Today I went for my routine eye check-up. I have done this once every six months for the past 13 years. My eye specialist has seen me grow up from a Sec 4 boy to someone who is currently undertaking further studies abroad. I have these checks because my short-sightedness is very high, because I see many floaters in my visual field, and also because the doctor seems to think my eye pressure is on the high side.

I don’t really tell people my eyesight problems, because I don’t see myself as being disadvantaged in any way. Sure, it is terribly irritating to see a “cloud” drift across large chunks of text when I scan the page from left to right, but after a while, the brain tunes the disturbance out. No problem there; I can see just as well as the person next to me, just that I have to wear an extra thick pair of glasses.

Every time I visit the clinic is a humbling experience. I see people with much more serious eye problems than mine. But I never really talked to any of them. Today, while waiting for my pupils to be dilated, I spoke with two people sitting beside me. One was a gentleman with quite thick glasses. He says he has macular degeneration, a degenerative disease which eats away at the centre visual field of one’s sight. The other was a elderly lady who has glaucoma – whereby the pressure of the eye is so high that it damages the optic nerve slowly.

This afternoon, my eye pressure was found to be “20″ (I am not sure what units that is in, but presumably it is mm Hg or something). That, in my limited knowledge, is considered high. There were two tests to be taken – the first wherein a puff of air is blown onto your eye so that a computer measures the change in curvature of the cornea (or something like that). That is the preliminary screening done via a machine like those used to measure the degree of longsightedness or shortsightedness in an eye. The kindly lady operating the machine blasted air into my eye more than 5 times, because each time the result was “20″. She said she wanted to get a result lesser than 20 so that the doctor would not order a “field test” – wherein I stare into a lighted sphere and click whenever I see sparks in my visual field; that is designed to test the extent of the field of vision. It seemed, however, that the result of the day was to be “20″. The second test to confirm this preliminary eye pressure reading was one wherein – in my crude description – the doctor “pokes” something into the eye, presumably again to measure the change in curvature of the cornea. I really hate this test because there is contact with the eye, but I’ve grown to accept it as a routine every 6 months. That test yielded “20″ as well, and off I went to the field test.

So it was after the field test that the doctor dilated my pupils with eyedrops. While I waited for the pupils to be dilated, I chatted with the gentleman and elderly lady.

The lady, as will be recalled, told me she has glaucoma. Well, “20″ was certainly high enough, and she advised me to take care as that might be the start of the disease.

The gentleman told me that his macular degeneration was a result of his high myopia. He said his eyesight was 1000 degrees when he was 18 – well, mine was that level by 16. So he said his macular degeneration came some 30 years ago – he looks 60 or so – and the doctors told him it had some connection with the high myopia.

In the end, the doctor examined my retinas through the dilated pupils and ordered a photograph of my retinas. He has the habit of not saying what the issue is, so I went ahead with the photos. For the first time in my life I saw what the doctor has seen these past 15 years – the back of my eyes; the retinas with all manner of blood vessels on them. The doctor said that everything was fine and mentioned for me to come back in 6 months.

Well, perhaps one day, my eyesight will go the way of the gentleman and the elderly lady. I am under no illusion that my high myopia will be a source of problem in time to come. It may only be a matter of time. Sometimes, in times like these, when things are seemingly about to go wrong, we seek God and ask Him to prevent the wrong from eventualising. Thus, when a car fails, we may pray that the car recovers. When we lose something, we may pray for that to be recovered. And when eyesights fail, we pray that we be able to see the future, or, in the future. But might a more suitable prayer be to pray for God to do what He pleases? Sometimes His will is not something we can understand. Our cars may fail so we can help a stranger on the footpath we are force to take. We may lose something, only to find something more valuable in God’s judgment. Our sight may fail, but we may see the splendour of God. Let thy will be done was perhaps what I was thinking in the minutes between the doctor’s “all clear” and the order to take a photograph of my eyes. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t afflicted with fear, but I certainly felt much more at ease and peaceful than the 15-year-old who was scared out of his wits.

I think the lesson I have learned in the last 13 years is this: one day my eyesight may fail. True enough I am eating supplements, but it may be borrowed time I am living on. Of course I wish for my eyesight to be excellent till the end, but we cannot see the future. We cannot see or understand that sometimes, what God wants is different from what we want. His will, not ours. While small miracles by God – such as the miraculous recovery of a lost item – may be a show of His awesome wonder, but is that really a coincidence of His will and ours? Or do we – somewhat incorrectly in my view – regard it to be the realisation of our will by Him?

The gentleman laughed as he said to me, “I may be legally blind!” But behind that laugh I could see the fortitude of a man who believed and has come to accept. Perhaps one day I may have to do the same, but for now, I cannot see the future.

#60: Whatever for?

Recent experiences have had me pondering what the use is of treating people nicely.

Because this is an ongoing dispute, and also because this blog is advertised on that popular social networking website, I am going to replace the original items of interest with other items.

Let’s just say that I was in the market for a fruit basket which cost $15. I wanted to make sure that the fruits are really good, so I sent them to a professional fruit grower to inject some hormones, etc, into the fruits. The professional would also check the fruits to see that they are all good. That service costs $5, but shipping the fruit basket costs additional.

So I got a first fruit basket. Unfortunately, the handle of the basket was loose. So the professional suggested that I exchanged it. Fine. He facilitated the exchange with the fruit basket company. Upon receipt of the second fruit basket, he does his tweaking and proclaims the fruit basket to be very excellent. He issues a report full of superlatives and has the fruit basket sent back to me.

Upon receipt of the basket, I realise that my favourite fruit, a papaya, is missing. I emailed the professional, who denies that the papaya is with him with a slew of superlatives. Fine – I quote the report he included with the fruit basket which indicated quite clearly that the papaya was with the original fruit basket. He then reluctantly apologises for the mix-up and sends me a replacement papaya. Fine.

I took the fruit basket out a few times into the garden to feed my pet birds. However, the fruit basket’s handle occasionally failed. Sometimes it got too hard. Other times it was loose. I wasn’t happy with the fruit basket. Maybe an internal attachment was loose. But in the moments when the fruit basket worked, I experienced the magic of feeding birds and photographing them doing so. That was excellent, and I vividly remember my joy during those occasions. However I remained quite unhappy and contacted the fruit basket seller asking for a replacement. I stated that I was a lawyer, studying in so-and-so law school, so please don’t mess around with me and give me my replacement. As soon as I did that, the replies came fast and furious. What took other people 3 months to resolve was resolved personally by the Vice President of Customer Services in three days.  There is a lesson in this which I will allude to later.

In the meantime, I also contacted the professional. He replies to say that the fruit basket is a new product and hence performance is not necessarily tested by the fruit basket seller. He suggests various ways of fixing the problem. He says maybe the gloves I was using to handle the basket were causing the handle to slip out. I found this to be astonishing as I have been using the same gloves for other baskets. The bottomline is that he denies all responsibility whatsoever. I was beginning to see a pattern here.

It was only after I tested the fruit basket to exhaustion that the professional apologised for overlooking the problem. When I bring up the problem on online forums, I defended the professional’s reputation, saying the problem was with the seller, not the professional. He offered to work his magic on the third replacement basket.

The fruit basket seller promptly sends the third basket to the professional. However, the profession, upon an initial inspection, stated that the basket’s handle was also loose. He says that the fruit basket seller was a company in shambles and says there was nothing else he could do. I contacted the seller and asked for a refund. They agreed and sent out the shipping labels for the basket.

Now the fruit basket has a cloth cover for it. This was with me all the time; I had simply forgotten about it because the fruit basket was damaged and not really used. I promptly shipped this back to the seller on 17 Dec. It takes about 5 business days for the item to reach the seller across the country.

On about 20 Dec I get an email from the seller saying that the basket was still not shipped. Online tracking shows nothing of the basket being scanned into the shipping company’s system. I emailed the professional asking politely what happened.

He replied to deny all responsibility, saying that he had shipped the basket and that he has no control whatsoever over the basket’s whatabouts. Half the email was in caps (to be fair, it was a short email). I was taken aback by this, but replied politely to say thank you, and that I will check with the shipping company in a few days. Maybe the basket was not scanned into the system by mistake; maybe the holidays meant that there was some delay.

On 24 Dec, my cloth reached the seller, but not the basket. I called the shipping company and reflected this to the professional. The professional, true to form, stated that he had no control whatsoever. He kept saying that he had nothing to do with the basket which has left his hands. Fine, I wished him a Merry Christmas and boarded my plane home. Maybe the basket was delayed somewhere due to the holidays.

On 28 Dec, it was clear that the basket was missing or horribly delayed. It was not in the system. The seller emails me and the professional, saying that the basket still had not reached them. The professional volunteers the information that he had spoken with the pick-up driver who confirmed that the basket was scanned into the system, despite what the tracking system says.

Fine. That was a potential lead, so I very politely emailed the professional asking for further information about what the pick-up driver said. I apologised profusely for the inconvenience, and said to let me have the information only when the professional could find the time.

What happened next was really mind blowing.

The professional sends me an email, cc-ed to a certain “A & Associates”, quite apparently a law firm. In that email, he says he had no control whatsoever. He also alleges that I made numerous calls to the shipping company and the seller, which must have resulted in the shipment being delayed. He also says that my “insults” against him were bold and posterous. Unknown to me when I checked the email on my mobile phone was the fact that he had copied the email to 5 high level personnel at the seller’s company.

What did I do to deserve this?

I emailed everyone back, stating that while emails cc-ed to lawyers might scare others, it did not have that effect on me. I reiterated – for the first time to the professional – that I am legally trained and that I am a current student at so-and-so law school which is quite reputable. I rebutted line by line the baseless allegations made against me and said that the false claims amounted to an unwarranted attack on my character. I wanted to say this was defamation, but I held my piece and merely said that the fact it was cc-ed to more than one person meant that something was potentially in my hands.

After this email, the professional emails everyone with a terse one-liner disclaimer all responsibility and association with the issue.

At that point, I really wanted to say you do not walk away from defamatory statements like that. I had half a mind to consult a lawyer in the country. If I have to lose the $20 ($15 for the basket and $5 for the servicing), then so be it, but I wanted something back.

Then I emailed this professional and said that I am not the kind of person to point fingers. I want the problem solved, and that his scare tactics did not work with me. I said that I admired his work, since he had worked on my other baskets 5 years ago when I was in the same country.

He replies to say that he was saddened by all of this, for both mine and his frustrations.

I email him one last time to say that relationships mean more to me than money, and that I was not looking to blame him for anything. I just wanted more information and was deeply hurt by the allegations thrown at me. I emailed everyone separately reserving my legal rights in the matter. The seller was quick to say he wants to “diffuse the situation”, and was confident that, one way or another, my $15 will be refunded by week’s end.

Throughout all this, the professional does not mention the $5 being refunded.

At the end of this (actually it is still ongoing), I ask myself, what am I doing this for? What use is it that I treat others with genuine respect and take the trouble to type “with warmest regards” at the end of every email – bypassing the automated signature function – because I want to mean that? All that for unpleasantries like these. It is only when I say I am a lawyer with a candidature for a degree at a good law school that people back off. Is this really the world we live in?

Unfortunately, I am afraid so. I realise a long time ago that being nice will mean being taken advantage of. This is a world where the guy who gets the girl is not one who waits infinitum, but one who breaks off with an existing partner for a new relationship. This is a world where polite emails are meant with accusatory emails of false information and cc-ed to law firms. This is a world where an assertion that one is a lawyer commands (somewhat) instant fear and prompts very quick resolution of problems. This is a messed up place.

But I will continue to be what I am because I know this is what I am supposed to do. Someone I respect highly told me that he was taken advantage of many times, but he stuck to his beliefs and his ideals, and his is a shining example of how well that worked out. But I am not after the glorious conclusion. I just think that perhaps it will make someone else’s world a better one if I simply treated everyone with respect. But, as in most things, reciprocity is a concept that eludes me.

#59: Knows better

As humans, we will always have limited foresight. When things don’t appear the way we want them to, our first response is usually to wish for a different outcome and wonder why we are so “unlucky”. Two incidents in the Guatemala trip served to remind me why humans often commit the error of focusing on the now.

The first was during the third last day of the tour. We were being driven from one town to another, and hoped to reach the latter before the sun set so that we could safely explore the area. Our guide/driver, however, made a stop at a gas station so that we could stretch our legs and buy a drink or two. As it were, the stop lasted longer than it perhaps should have, mainly because we spent some time talking about fish swimming about in a restaurant’s tank! When we left the station, we soon joined a queue of cars on the highway. The result was a 5,000-car pile-up and 3-hour wait, but as we learned later, had we not made the stop, we would have had a very good chance in being directly involved in the cause of the jam: two huge trailers colliding.

The second was during the earlier part of the tour, where I’d missed several excellent photography opportunities. In one, it was a daytime panoramic view of a town by the lake, with beautiful clouds, the lake and a volcano forming the background. In my mind, I figured that this would rank as one of the best photos I’d have ever taken if I took it. In another, we were on the highlands, passing by colourful farmlands and again, beautiful clouds and a volcano would have formed the background for an amazing picture. And there were more. As a photography buff, I get upset easily whenever I miss a top photo opp. I wore a heavy heart for quite a while, but I got round to praying that more amazing sights and photo opps would be presented. Inside my head though, I was doubtful. But the best hand is sometimes dealt late in the game and indeed, on the very last leg of our tour, I caught an amazing evening view from the plane — that of the city, with a bunch of volcanoes and the setting sun as the background. It wasn’t an easy shot to capture, particularly since I was inside a plane, but I managed to capture a couple of good shots in the end.

#58: Snowstorms and connections

I refer to the law exams that I had to take a couple of weeks back (which explains the sudden paucity of entries) as the “evil exams regime”. This is partly in jest of course — but, given that we are given only about 2 weeks of holidays before two straight semesters of work, it just doesn’t seem enough (if it ever does). And 2 weeks also meant that there was very little room for error or inconvenience for our holidays plans.

Our holiday plans basically entailed 3 parts: Miami; Boston; and Guatemala. The moment we left for Miami, a huge snowstorm hit the east coast. Record snow-levels were set, and thousands of flights were either cancelled or pushed back by many days across the country. We never knew this as we were already on the beaches of Miami and out of touch with the news. Then when it came for us to leave Miami, we learned for the first time about the snowstorm, and further found out that it had actually died down and normal services would resume that very day. In other words, had we chosen to leave for Miami any earlier or later, we would either have been stuck in Miami or failed to even reach there to begin with. Even so, we may not have been able to choose our dates because our exams ended on a certain date!

We could have lived with any delay back to Boston, but for the fact that we were supposed to pick up a friend visiting us from the UK. The plan was to stay in Boston for a couple of days before heading off together to Central America. Indeed, he had actually received a travel advisory to change his flight because of the snowstorm, but I suppose you could say he had faith. As it were, his flight to Boston went without a hitch — yet the same cannot be said for the other UK-Boston flights that day, which were delayed for many hours. All this, without mentioning that prior to his flight to Boston, he could have been severely held up in his holiday in Africa and missed the Boston flight altogether.

So we fast forward to the Guatemala trip. We needed to fly via Houston, with a 2 hour connection in between. We decided to check in early and we were told that because the flight was overbooked, we would be upgraded to “elite class” (which had only 8 seats in total). Previously, our agent had decided on her own accord to buy these seats for us, but we told her to convert them back to economy seats because we did not think the premium was worth it. Not only did we get the “elite” seats for free in the end, they turned out to very useful for us because the flight to Houston was delayed by more than an hour — but, as we were the first to alight, this gave us enough time for dinner before catching the flight.

There is a bunch of other sub-plots related to travel during the festive season, and I’ll leave that to my co-contributors. In the meantime, have a blessed Christmas and a great New Year!

#57: Talking

One of the things I love about teaching is being given a special opportunity to talk to students. It’s a special opportunity because it’s a special relationship; a relationship which somehow encourages frank conversations, including (but not limited to) conversations about God. I’ve come to learn that many of my students share the same faith as I do and it’s been fascinating learning about their perspectives and worldviews on this matter over the last year. Indeed the conversations with a good number of them continue to this day and it’s been gratifying to know that these dialogues have made some of them think even harder about their lives. I too have benefitted from their points of view, and this mutually beneficial relationship is where I truly see God’s hand in shaping our lives. We will be remiss not to seek greater wisdom so that these conversations bear even greater fruit.

#56: Trying to fall asleep

The feeling of going to bed early for the express purpose of getting enough sleep for an exam the next day but just being unable to actually fall asleep is not a great one. I knew tossing and turning wouldn’t help so I tried to remain still but ended feeling numb in my limbs. Sleeping on my side didn’t help – I think because I was feeling bothered I could hear my pulse throbbing in my ear and that just made me think that time was slipping by and sleep was not coming. I tried putting away the banklet but soon ended up feeling cold. And then I tried to pray. “Dear Jesus please help me to fall asleep, please, please, please” I said wordlessly. Unfortunately for me, in the back of my mind all the time I was thinking about my exam the next day and willing myself hard to just start sleeping. I had avoided looking at the clock since I thought that would make me feel worse but finally, I couldn’t stand lying in bed anymore and got up. I glanced at my clock – 3.47 am. Not good. My exam was at 9 am that morning. I decided I needed to calm myself down. I had a drink of water, turned on my table lamp, and decided to read a passage from the Psalms. And then I prayed, “Dear Lord, I know that you will not let anything happen to me that is more than I can bear. I commit my anxiety about my exam tomorrow into your hands. Please see me through the rest of the night.” After that, I went back to bed, closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep. All my friends will tell you that I am the sort of person who sleeps 8 hours a day and without that 8 hours, I become a little silly and incoherent. Not a good state to be in for an exam. However, when my alarm rang at 7.30am, I woke up feeling somewhat tired, but all right. I think it was because I finally decided to rely on God rather than on myself that I managed to get through my night and my exam. Like many of my other exams, things went by in a hurry and it did not seem like there was enough time but I knew I was all right.

#55: On the road

I just learned that my dad has narrowly escaped a road accident yet again. This time, there was a four-vehicle pile-up and my dad’s car was the fifth in line. We may not always see it all the time, but the statistics show that dozens of road accidents occur everyday in our island-state. I’ve lost a number of friends who were hit by bad drivers, and if one really contemplates the odds on a daily basis, the pressure can be unbearable…

#54: Toronto

My house mates and I just returned from a good trip to Toronto, a sentimental place of sorts for me. I think we pretty much managed to accomplish all the things we set out to do, and everything from the weather to the timing of the transportation worked wonderfully for us. When I returned home, I was surprised to learn that a fatal shooting had occurred in the financial district on Sunday morning — this being the very same street my group was travelling on Sunday morning. The shooting took place a few hours before we were there, and we won’t have suspected anything because it was the financial district after all. Shootings in Toronto are not uncommon, but the downtown core is generally considered safe. No doubt even as a believer in God’s protection, certain questions still remain for me: for instance, when are we protected, why are we protected, and under what conditions (eg, do we need to pray for it), if any, are we protected? It seems difficult to discern a pattern. I came across a quote yesterday, and it can be paraphrased as “Is it not good enough to appreciate your good fortune, without believing that there were fairies behind it?” I do not know how God has been operating in the lives of others. Rather, I do not know it as well as how He has taken care of my life, and the lives of my family and close friends — and I continue to testify to the goodness of God.

#53: When technology fails

A few weeks before the exams, the last thing we want is to have our computers crash on us. With the tendency to create notes in soft copy these days, the death of the computer simply represents a total disaster. A few hours ago, my girlfriend grimly informed me that her laptop was no longer working. The power was plugged in, but no matter what she did, she could not switch on the laptop. We spent the next 10 minutes performing the standard troubleshooting: ensuring connections were not loose, changing plugs, taking out the battery, holding down the power button — the full works. It was really a sinking feeling, so I said a silent prayer and hoped for the best. After the prayer, the computer immediately came back to life.

#52: Exams

In a recent conversation with my younger brother, he mentioned that his exams were coming. He said he was very worried, he was having nightmares and that he hadn’t been scoring well on the assignments and quizzes that were to comprise a significant percentage of his exam grade. Doing well in school has not been a strong point of my brother’s. I know he feels it acutely because in his view both my sister and I are doing much better than he is (more on my view of this in a future post).

However, this does not stop him from trying really hard. My sister and I try to offer as much advice and help as we can but after a certain point of our lives, such help is limited because our areas of study have diverged. So nowadays, my brother hardly asks us for help with his work, rather, he will turn to us leading up to his exams and he will express his worries and his fears. And then he will ask us to pray for him and we will. We like to do it out loud, as a family, the night before his exams start and we all also pray for him individually whenever he turns to any of us. This happens twice every year, whenever my brother’s exams are around the corner.

As was said in an earlier post, Christians are told not to worry and are assured of God’s help by the Bible. So how come we can see so many Christians worrying? In my view, it is not wrong, in itself, to worry. In fact, the assurances offered by God in the Bible show us that God is very much aware of how humans are prone to worrying and stressing out. Even though this exams-worry-pray cycle repeats itself frequently in my brother’s life, I know that each time after we pray for him he is able to feel calmer and less freaked out. That’s why he keeps asking us to do it every time his exams come around!

#51: WOFLT110

The letters and numerals in the title probably don’t mean a lot to many people, but they have consumed a great part of my attention the past two weeks.

I have not had the best of luck with my astronomical purchases lately. I came to the US with a partial intention to rebuild my interest in astronomy and to accumulate the appropriate equipment. This intention was fossilised completely when I saw the stars in all their grandeur on a roadtrip last month. That initial enthusiasm has since been doused by setbacks in my purchases.

First, my “fully automatic” telescope didn’t work. Not once, but twice. I’m going to send it back in for repairs. But that is being dealt with by a corporation and also a retired astronomer who seems to be in good financial health. So that isn’t the focus of this entry.

The focus of this entry is with my second telescope. This is something I bought exclusively for imaging purposes. I got it used (as I try to do) from someone at a forum. Unfortunately the scope arrived with significant dust and debris on the optics. Normally these things are to be expected, but the scope also came with a very faint scratch on the front objective. Whilst this would not affect the images ultimately obtained, I felt very displeased about this. The seller had told me that the optics were in “excellent” condition. And this after I had asked him at least 3 times, not least because I had a similar bad experience with a camera lens.

When we talked over the phone to discuss the matter, he said that he recalled the previous owner had told him there were “minor defects” with the optics, and that he had forgotten to tell me about this. I literally didn’t know what to say to him over the phone. Perhaps somewhat naively, I thanked him for the scope (still) and said I was going to have the scope cleaned professionally. Fortunately, the manufacturer of the scope does provide a cleaning service at a very reasonable price, although I don’t think even he can make a scratch disappear.

When I got home after speaking with the seller over the phone (I was out of the state and perhaps decidedly distracted), I wrote a message to the seller. Now, the seller had previously said he was selling the scope because he is umemployed and in some financial difficulty. I googled him – as I do when buying used equipment from other people – and found that he used to write columns for newspapers, etc. In other words, he seemed to be in a financially better position earlier. But he is now, according to him, unemployed and financially destitute. So in my message, I said to forget about the matter. Essentially, I said that I would not leave him negative feedback on the forum to affect his other pending sales with other users.

Just this evening, he finally replied to that message. He said he felt “horrible” about the issue; and that it was because of “ignorance” that he misrepresented the condition of the optics.

Well, I got quite upset – at least, as upset as my flu-stricken body can muster.

“Ignorance?”: it doesn’t take a scope expert to determine if there is a scratch – the highest form of damage on glass – on the optics. And certainly, he told me he had known about the “minor defects”; how could that be interpreted otherwise as “ignorance”?

“Horrible?”: well, if he felt horrible, perhaps he could have offered me something, like coverage for the cleaning costs?

So I wrote him an angry message saying I wanted to protect others on the forum by exposing his misrepresentations. And of course I would have been on solid ground doing this – I wasn’t making anything up or being excessively paranoid (as I am sometimes prone to be). That message was sent.

But then I thought: what if this person was really financially destitude? What if he really did not know about these defects when he sent the scope out to me, but had merely forgotten?

But more importantly, what would be the appropriately Christian way of reacting in such a situation?

Was it to throw the weight of the law on this person (and I had done that, representing that I was a lawyer, etc, in my message to him)?

Was it to burden him anymore by demanding compensation?

Was it something else?

In a moment of quiet reflection, I was led to this following passage:

Luke 6:34-36: “And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again.

While not quite on point, an analogy could certainly be made between that passage and the present situation.

I sent the seller a message saying forget it, unless the scope is really irreparable (which I don’t think it is), I’m going to let it rest. No need to give me the cleaning costs or whatever. And I hope his financial condition improves.

Perhaps I am being a fool doing this. Maybe I am really being cheated, but well, I felt more comfortable sending this second message out than the first.

And I am not writing this down to show how forgiving I am. Indeed, on a first level, I am not – rather than saying “forget it, period”, I was laying down a condition “forget it, if the scope is not irreparable”. Would I react the same way if news came back to me that the scope is beyond repair? Honestly, I do not know. I would want to do it, but I honestly cannot say I would. And on a larger level, I have more faults on me than the stars in the sky, so this isn’t a case of self-praise.

I put this down to really show the dangers of not praying or quietly reflecting before reacting. Especially where money is involved, it is all too easy to be distracted and to react with rage and fury on an individual who might really be going through a tough financial patch. I cannot profess – thankfully – to know the pain of being unemployed, so I cannot judge the matter from that perspective. Certainly I would have been happier if the scope had been clean, but well, I did get something that would image properly (and a second lesson in that is to look past superficial imperfections). I don’t know, but I did feel better (although still plagued by flu) after sending the second message. I hope when pushed, I really meant that. I really do.

In the end, and on another note, the quest to image the stars has not been smooth so far. Two scopes are (or will be) on their way for repairs, I have to learn more advanced alignment techniques, etc, but in the end, as someone recently reminded me:

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

I am sure it will all be worthwhile – both when actually seeing them and the path there.

#50: Tomorrow is Sunday and …

How would you complete this sentence?

It is a rainy Saturday morning and as I sit in front of my laptop getting ready to start my day, I am thinking to myself, “Tomorrow is Sunday and I’ll be glad to go to church”. I like going to church. I like walking into church and being welcomed, I like the sense of community and family I feel when I am there, I like the fact that everyone there is making it a point to attend (perhaps expecting something or just curious about what may be in store for them that day), I like listening to the Sunday sermon and the stories the preacher has to share – it makes me feel somehow uplifted to hear how others are being blessed, and most of all I really like the time of worship when everyone in their own way focuses on praising God and just thinking about him.

When I go to church I feel like I am responding to the Bible when it says “Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest” – Even on the days when I don’t fell all that psyched about going to church I know that it will be good to go and I will be better for it; “Rejoice evermore pray without ceasing” – Going to church is a joyful experience and reminds us to think of others and to pray for them; “So then faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God” – I look forward to being strengthened in faith when I listen to the sermon and I try to remember certain verses that I find are very helpful to me; “But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another” – although I don’t know many people in my church right now, I look forward to seeing those whom I do know and talking to them about how they’ve been.

Church might have more in it than we think; if we go seeking a positive experience with God, I am sure we will find it. If you’ve never been to church, how about giving it a try?  

#49: Sainte-Lucie

May 2006: my girlfriend and I had bought our air tickets to Saint Lucia, the Caribbean island nation. We knew nothing about the place, save that a Saint Lucian friend of ours in the Toronto graduate program had very kindly told us to “just turn up” and her friend would take care of the rest. In fact, we bought the tickets only because she had assured us that we need not plan anything. As it were, the trip was very memorable and we were very well taken of by her (now our as well) friend. Yet things could have gone very wrong.

It started with a friend’s question: “are you sure you don’t need a visa?” I had assumed that travel within the Commonwealth was quite a fuss-free affair — still, I checked a couple of sites on the internet just to be sure. The sites said we didn’t need one. I had tried accessing the government web pages to be sure, but the sites were for some reason unavailable. So we proceeded with the assumption that we didn’t a visa; after all, I did manage to find out that Saint Lucian visitors did not need a visa to visit Singapore, and surely the converse must be true.

A couple of days before our flight, my girlfriend and I wondered one last time if we needed a visa. We managed to obtain the “official” answer this time — and the answer was a yes.  We had no idea if Canada had a Saint Lucian consulate. It was a Friday and a public holiday, and we were certain the consulate would not open over the weekend. So we were left with Monday, which was the day of our flight. And even if we managed to rush there in time, the visa was likely to take days, or even weeks, to process. $2,500 was about to be flushed down the drain — no small sum, considering we were students. We were facing a harrowing prospect; we said a prayer and hoped for the best.

We eventually discovered there was a consulate in the vicinity. But when we arrived early on the day of our Monday flight, they had not opened. We got a little unsettled when they did not open on time, and when they did, we were informed that the officer in charge of visa would only come in at a later time, and they did not know when exactly. Precious time was ticking away, and she finally arrived close to lunch time. We told her about the emergency of the situation, and she casually informed us that she could prepare an expedited visa for us, save that it would cost much more than the typical visa… and that for reasons unknown, she also needed to see “official proof” of us being students. She did not look like she could be negotiated with, so I took a cab down to my university, hoping that the administrative office would be open. They were indeed open, and thankfully, they did not ask any questions and acceded to my request promptly. With just over three hours remaining, I made a mad dash back to the consulate, only to find that the officer had stepped out for lunch. Things looked like they were going to fall apart at the last moment when she had a change of mind, and decided to buy back lunch. Perhaps it was because we were looking pretty desperate, so she decided to eat her lunch quickly and she issued us our visas. One more cab ride, and we finally reached the airport, catching our flight just in time.

#48: x2

The events leading up to me being in the place I am now (where I’m teaching and where I’m studying) remain etched in my memory simply because on hindsight, it seems amazing that I survived them (without first mentioning the context of me hoping for a breakthrough in my odds for making it and getting more than what I’d bargained for).  I could talk about the multiple tasks I was handling at that time — clerking, hearing matters, writing articles, teaching three classes at two law schools, and applying to the different schools — and these didn’t include ensuring my personal life remained intact, but I’ll just focus on a smaller aspect that was almost lost on me until I thought about it today.

At that time, one of my best friends was right in the thick of things together with me. In the ideal situation, we’ll go to the same postgrad destination, and teach at the same place thereafter. To do that, we needed to gain some experience teaching part-time. Just when it seemed hopeless that we would ever get called upon, we got called upon by both the schools which we’d applied to. Even better, there was an extra opening to teach an additional class (the tutor had to drop out) and my friend kindly let me have it, because he was still undecided about whether teaching (full-time) was for him. It meant extra work for me but I was willing to fit in even more things into the mad schedule. So instead of just 65 students, I now had 80. Months later, I’m happy to have made that decision because I got to interact with even more talented and amazing kids, some of whom remain kind enough to talk to me from time to time, and some of whom I hope have made some impact on. As for my friend, as it were, we didn’t end up at the same place doing our postgrad. Yet, we accept that this is all part of God’s will and maybe that day of co-operation isn’t actually that far away…

#47: How do you know there is one God and that he is Jesus?

Yesterday I was asked the first part of this question by a friend over lunch; and I suppose embedded in that first part of the question is the second part. I did not have a ready answer but said something along the lines of, well, if there is an all-powerful being or there are all-powerful beings who created us and the universe, I would think that there would only be one. I know that that God is my God (that is, Jesus) because he has responded to me and made himself real to me – he gives me not only peace and joy, but a sense that I have purpose and meaning in my life. I know he guides my path – providing me with a loving boyfriend (who was there at lunch too and demonstrated what a great boyfriend he is by helping me out when I seemed a bit stunned at hearing the question), allowing both of us to receive scholarships to further our studies at the same time, and giving both of us an opening at the same prestigious university, just to name a few examples. And my friend said “Yes, it is very sweet that both of you are able to study overseas together; I have a friend back home who has also told me that she wouldnt have married her current husband if not for God.”

This is not meant to be a report of a random lunch conversation so I will get to my point – a question like how do you know there is one God and that he is Jesus, is a question that calls for the offering of some concrete proof. It is analagous to a question like – how do you know you were born of 2 parents and that they are the father and mother who brought you up? To answer such a question might require you to produce your birth certificate and explain why such a certificate has authority, but to the most sceptical person, you and the whole world might have to go through a DNA test to show that indeed it was true that you only had 2 parents (not, 3, or 4 who existed some other place in the world) and that those 2 persons are indeed who you think your father and mother are. Even then, it could be said that DNA tests, although almost a 100% accurate, are not 100% accurate. There is no certificate that can establish that there is only one God and there is no scientific procedure by which we can test all candidates for God and establish that Jesus, or the Christian God, is the true God. And as my boyfriend added during our lunch conversation, the way we know the answer to the question is faith. We take our parents as our true parents, indeed, also as a matter of faith. So faith is not really a magical or mystical word but a part of human experience.

We can say, however, that our faith is not a blind one because it is consistent with our own experiences. It makes sense  to believe that our parents who brought us up are our parents because they demonstrate love for us, they try their best to be there for us when we need them, they always defend us, they provide for us, etc. No one else does that. And in order to know or disprove  the truth of the statement there is one God and that God is Jesus, we have to open our eyes and make an effort to be keen observers. Would it make sense for nature, as we know it, to have been created by many Gods? Do I believe my friend who tells me about his or her experiences with God? Can I observe some difference in that person? When I call out to God does he somehow rescue me? Have I tried it out?

Would you give it a try starting today? It is never too soon — or too late!

#46: Rejection

For those of us — I speak for the males, in particular — who have been rejected by a member of the opposite gender, we remember ever so clearly the pain and the sadness (the breakdown of ordinary friendships is also a painful process, but probably not much as the preceding situation stated). Even the strongest among us must have felt that life became unbearable, even for just a while. To have loved somebody only to realise that that somebody does not love us in return, well, that sort of realisation is simply shattering. Yet, this is on the basis of imperfect love (because, eg, the other person may have a reason not to love you in return; or, more fundamentally, we are imperfect).

Consider then, perfect love.

Most Christians believe that God has emotions. We read in the Bible about God having feelings in response to various episodes of man’s disobedience, hubris, conceit, dishonesty and lack of repentance. I believe of course that God’s holiness more than suffuses his emotions such that He is not dictated by emotions, but the point remains that He feels like we do — most so, perhaps, when Jesus was sent to earth. If we thought it was painful being rejected, imagine the hurt that God felt, feels, and will continue to feel: billions upon billions of His creation, over the millennia, every single day,  spurning Him, rejecting His word, forgetting Him, ignoring Him. The results of which, caused not by predilection, but an abuse of our free will. We resist all notions of any attenuation of our liberty, yet liberty becomes, unknown to ourselves, our self-serving predicate when we shall ask: oh God, why did you not make yourself plainer in existence; why were you the cause and uncause of everything in my life? For every reason we can think of why we resent God, we have given him a thousand others to destroy us. But He has not, because even as the repose of man is to forsake the forsaken, that is not God’s ways.

[Edit: I only just realised that the thrust of this post might have been influenced by an email conversation I had with a friend.]

#45: Slip but not fall

This evening when I was walking out of my home to go for dinner, I slipped on the porch steps, which were wet from the rain. For a split second, I thought I was going to land with my back hitting the concrete steps. But suddenly, I managed to catch myself and escaped injury completely. Was that a matter of quick reflexes or Jesus the watchful shepherd reaching out to rescue one of his sheep from danger? I believe it was the latter and am extremely thankful for it.

#44: Stress-o-meter

As we grow older, our responsibilities increase. When that happens, so do our stress levels. No longer is the focus simply on school work or school activities; now, one is accountable on many fronts to family, loved ones, friends, church, work etc. Financial, health, professional and social issues come into the mix. Some people deal with stress pretty well, always seen to be coasting from task to task. Others have to dig in deeper just to stay on top of things. And then there are those who set such high standards all the time that they are never relieved. But regardless of how well or often we respond to stress, I believe there will come a point in time — and thereafter, many points in time — where we are put under an extraordinary amount of strain, and we realise that have little control over the things we want to control.  We realise as well that we are so minute, weak and limited. Of course, human will (and ability) has proven to be very strong over the course of human history, but humans remain largely vulnerable: we still get injured when we fall, we still succumb to illness when it strikes, and none of us can afford to be lonely without going mad. Likewise, our mental fortresses can crumble.

When I was outside looking in, I found it incredible that God will be the source of comfort and solace for our troubles. I found the notion of casting your burdens on God to be an irresponsible one — a way of chickening out; a translation of dereliction. I found the notion of letting some divine hand guide your path and future equally absurd, as I’d explained in a previous post. Yet as I’ve grown in the walk, I’ve seen the true transformative effect of committing all dreams and fears to the Lord. There is contentment and confidence in all outcomes. There will always be fear, but maybe fear is in some way the currency of our connection to God. Indeed, rather than being an inhibitory factor, the trust in God has been empowering, compelling me to excel even more in all my dealings in life. Recently, the father of my friend passed away. The family had been bracing for it for some time. It’s never easy to lose somebody in the family, but the first thing my friend told me was it was comforting to know his father is in a better place. For somebody outside looking in, this will never make sense. For that somebody, however, do you sense that this peace is also available to you?

#43: Song

Have you ever had a song come to you that just felt so right for the particular situation you were in? This often happens to me. When seeing something beautiful in nature these words will come to mind: “When I consider the work of your fingers, the sun and the stars, the land and the sea; I start to wonder almighty creator just why you would ever take thought of me?” Or when facing a difficult situation I have 2 particular songs that will come to mind. A few lines of the first song goes like this: “God will make a way when there seems to be no way, He works in ways we cannot see, He will make a way for me”. A sample of the second goes: “God will take care of you, through every day o‘er all the way; He will take care of you, God will take care of you”. Music and song are ways in which I find God can speak to me and sometimes they can also serve as ways in which I can speak to God. A song does not have to rhyme or have a beautiful melody; if you have time try singing a song to God and see if He gives you one in return!

#42: Was that the heat or rain?

A few days ago I remember this remark:

“Was that the heat or rain?”

The context of this statement was that it was pouring heavily, and the heater had come on, and there was a sudden grand noise produced at the same moment – the maker of the statement was puzzled as to which was which.

But he added:

“Whatever it is, it is majestic.”

People probably won’t make much of this, and even the speaker probably didn’t, but I thought this simply shows that sometimes what can be “good” (heat on a cold day) can seem like it’s bad (rain and cold) when it really is all majesty in the end.

Ok that was a short entry!

#41: Splendour of the Universe

When I was young, my father used to tell me about the cloud of stars which he saw as a young man. After I got my first telescope from Toys R Us – which I now know to be a nonsense telescope which should be avoided at all cost – I turned the scope, flimsy tripod and all, towards the night sky. Nothing. Just the fair orange glow of light pollution permeating into the night sky.

When I got a bit older, my father bought our first “real” telescope. It was a 5″ Celestron Schmit Cassegrain telescope which cost an insane amount of money at that time. It had no “go-to” capability; just some motors to keep the scope aligned as the stars moved across the night sky. I saw my first images of Jupiter, then Saturn, then some nebula with that scope. I learned how to navigate the skies by finding Orion and linking the three belts to point towards Sirius. I learned that Orion’s hazy belt was actually the Orion Nebula, a birthplace of stars. I learned a lot of things about the night sky. But still, when I looked up into the sky, there was no Milky Way. In part this was impossible because the field of view of the scope was so narrow, but one might have thought it possible to see the Milky Way through a “real” telescope.

Then I joined the astronomy clubs in the schools I attended. They had no real scope because of budget constraints, but organised trips to the observatory at the Science Centre. That was one big telescope, but still no Milky Way. By this time I knew that it was not possible to see the Milky Way back home. Not because the telescopes were not powerful enough, but because the sky was too bright. The beauty of the night sky drowned out by the bright lights of our city island. Over time, my interest in astronomy waned. Sure, I kept up with the developments — I was especially excited when new probes visited Jupiter and Saturn in the 1990s – but the enthusiasm was no longer there. I still had not seen the Milky Way.

In the meantime, the city lights got brighter, and I got busier. University came, and the Celestron scope started growing fungus in the humidity due to lack of use. But it was kept pointing towards the ceiling, at an angle at which it was last used.

Five years ago, whilst in a foreign country, I got into the hobby again. Well, not exactly, because there weren’t any suitable observation locations. But I started buying equipment. By now I had some income so I could spend a bit on the hobby. I was also in a country where astronomy equipment were sold cheaply. I bought a 3″ portable scope, and a 8″ scope. 8″ was a lot of aperture for a telescope and cost me a grand fortune back then, but I thought it was worth it. I was going to do this when I got home. Unfortunately, one frustrating (and warm) observation session later, I went back to the pressure of final year university and never got my hobby going. It didn’t help that I had plain forgotten how to navigate the skies, which is very sad because I used to be in the astronomy club and took part in all those geeky competitions (and where everyone wore specs and had curly hair). I only knew that I still had not seen the Milky Way.

The lights of the city continued to get brighter, houses got built around mine and things just got very bright. And so this continued for the next 3 years. I looked up occasionally, but saw nothing but the brightest stars and some planets. I still had not seen the Milky Way.

***

Slightly more than a week ago, I went on a trip to see the fall colours overseas. Accommodation was in a small town with little lights. I never really liked small towns but it was for the leaves, I told myself, and whoever cared to listen. That night, I looked up and saw this:

That is the Milky Way stretching across the night sky. It was a powerful, powerful sight. I would even say touching. In the stillness of the night you could actually see the cloud of stars floating above you. And what’s more, all the familiar constellations right there. I also had not seen the North Star before — it is impossible to see back home because of geographical reasons (below the horizon always). And so that night, in the darkness of a small town, I saw the Milky Way. Something I had never seen before, and something which I always wanted to see.

***

Sometimes it takes a powerful image like that to remind us of things greater than ourselves. The simple lesson here would be this: the majesty of the universe, showcased in a stretch of stars, presented to human eyes. It is not easy to appreciate the grandeur of this — the arm of stars is merely a band in the spiral galaxy that the Sun resides. This galaxy is home to hundreds of billions of stars. The known universe is filled with billions of these galaxies, each an island of many, many stars. Yet in the midst of all this, we have our Sun, and our Earth. Does this not hint of a Creator fall greater than our minds can comprehend? And how much more amazing that this Creator actually cares for us! Yes, the creator of the stars, the galaxies cares for us collectively and even individually.

But another perspective from the above is this: it was only in the still and darkness of the night that the splendour of the universe was revealed (to me, at least). In the warm glow of the city lights, it was not. When we seek God, do we not do so in times when our minds are attuned to Him and not drowned out by other distractions? In the stillness of prayer we experience God more closely than when we are disturbed by external noise (by this I don’t mind audible noise but noise in its metaphoric sense). When I had my telescopes, I could not see the Milky Way; one does not need special expertise to know the God who created the universe. What drowned out the splendour of the universe was not the lack of such sophisticated equipment, but the surrounding disturbances. That is a powerful message in itself.

And a final point is this: do we lose enthusiasm for God when things do not turn out the way we want them to be? It is easy to be discouraged — such is only human nature — but I suppose if we stay the course, we will see the things we are meant to see and to experience the wonders that have been created by One who knows and wants to know insignificant us.

***

Have you tried searching for the Milky Way today?

#40: Doors

When things are not meant for me, God will close the doors and open other (better) doors for me. This is a statement which truth I subscribe to, and there are a few examples in my life where I can think of how it has been proven true. I think the statement is also sometimes an open invitation to scorn, regardless of the scorner’s religious inclinations. For instance, you may say that I’ve deluded myself to believe the deprived choice is inferior to the available choice. Or, you may say that this is just taking a Zen-like approach to life, accepting things as they are and not dwelling on the past. There is no invisible hand, or any divine hand, in the reckoning. Certainly, those refutations have been raised by several people I know in response to the stories that I share. But here’s another for refutation — or something else.

Being a legal academic, one has to be very careful in choosing an area of specialisation. It is about the path of the viable. Gone are the days where one can safely prod along as a omni-know-all-generalist, researching and teaching whatever that suits your fancy; now, the premium is on developing a niche — and as quickly as possible. Even prior to that, however, there must be an opening; an availability; a chance for you to become the exponent in the area that interests you. Thus, if the faculty has say, a number of experts already on a particular area of law, one will want to reconsider entering that very turf. The reasons, I presume, are rather apparent and need not be particularised. Indeed, in a more extreme situation, you may even be told upfront of where the demands and supplies lie.

Turning then to my own situation, it is still some time before I know what I will get to teach — and concomitantly, develop a research area in. There is every possibility, albeit predicated on rules unwritten, that whatever befalls at the first instance remains the status quo to a large degree. Possibility can transform into paranoia in my case, because I actually have a very narrow set of interests; further, while there are certain things I want to spearhead and develop, needless to say, these desires are contingent on factors beyond and larger than my own interests, and above prediction. What will the eventual outcome be? To that question my answer is: I do not fear the outcome. And this is not because I am very confident in my abilities, or because I am cavalier, or because I am disinclined to worry. Each of those traits, admittedly, apply in some degree to my makeup. But the answer for me resides in the very opening words of this entry.

#39: Car

A couple of days ago, my brother required me to send him some money so that he could get his car fixed. Without the repairs, it would be rather dangerous for him to be driving the vehicle, and he needed to use it on a daily basis. However, paypal wasn’t co-operating this time and I was told that I could only do the transfer in 3 days. I couldn’t do anything about that so we had to wait. When I could finally do the transfer, I had plain forgotten about it and went to bed — the next morning, I was to set off on a 3-day trip, meaning that I would be delayed in sending the money by a further 3 days, and my brother would be driving a faulty vehicle for another 3 days. Thankfully, this was averted. That night, I had a very hard time sleeping. In fact, it was the first time I ever had trouble sleeping since arriving in Cambridge. After about 2 hours, it dawned upon me that I had yet to do the transfer! Naturally I woke up and got it done straightaway. Was it just a subconscious reminder?

#38: Sometimes what we need is closer than we think, if we only stopped to listen

Today was meant to be a productive day. I was finally going to do the groundwork for this article I am working on. I was going to stay in the library for a full afternoon, furiously scanning books so that I can read the electronic copies in the comfort of my home. It was going according to plan. I came back, slept for 2 hours (because I was so tired from the early mornings), and planned on staying in the library till dinner time. Two hours in the library, about three books – no problem. I packed my laptop with its case into my bag and left for the library at about 3pm.

That’s what I thought.

Upon reaching the scanning machines, I realised to my horror that they only copied the scanned files to thumbdrives if the number of pages scanned exceeded 5. Or something like that. This applied aptly to me because I was scanning literally tens of pages. I had planned to stay for two hours; if I had to go back and fetch my thumbdrive, I would waste at least 20 mins, even if I were to employ my “walk like the lightning” style of semi-run for my journey home.

The rational decider in me said to (a) consider whether there is a place selling thumbdrives – yes, and then (b) how much – $4 per GB I recalled from a advert poster stuck on a toilet door in one of the school buildings (no joke). I rationalised that I wasn’t going to pay $8 for something I already have in order to save 20 mins. I decided to walk back.

So far so good. Then upon reaching home, I found my 4GB thumbdrive. This is the one I almost always used. I should have quit there and then, but I was convinced that I had an additional 2GB drive somewhere which I had received free for doing some library survey back home. I didn’t need that drive – it wasn’t as if I was going to copy more than 100MB worth of pages (even if they were in the tens of pages). But then the obsessive decider in me took over, and told me to look.

I have to say something about the obsessive character in me. In many ways, it has covered my shortcomings in natural aptitude by urging me to do more than is necessary to make things as perfect as possible. If I cannot trace a case in an article, the obsessor in me takes over and I spend hours looking for a single case. If I cannot find a pen which I believe I have in my room, this obsessor tells me to search, and I do – for hours on end, at times covered in sweat from the whole enterprise. Like I said, in some sense, this has helped shield my inaptitude in the law: the law is about persistence, diligence and hard research. I firmly believe in the mantra that “it is out there somewhere”. This part of my character has helped in my studies and career. It has helped me churn out work at seemingly fast rates or it has made my research seemingly more complete. But that’s the secret.

In other times, this part of me isn’t so helpful. Just last week, I received a lens I was looking forward to receiving. Unfortunately, it came with fungus spots on the lens elements. I knew that it was impossible to clean the stuff off. It’s inside the lens, for crying out loud! Rationality would have dictated me to put the lens aside, email the seller, tell him of the problem, and leave the matter as it is. That was all the more important because I had lots of work to clear that day. But, just like the thumbdrive, I entered into an obsessive frenzy and tried to clean the lens for about an hour. When that failed, I surfed the internet for information on how to dismantle the lens to clean the inside. I just had to solve the problem right there and now. There was no space for rationality or the like; I just needed the problem resolved. Fortunately, I had a dinner appointment outside that day, so I was “forced” to abandon this potentially ruinous enterprise. Later that night, I emailed the seller, who helpfully agreed to foot all cleaning fees. The lens is now being cleaned by the manufacturer – all expenses paid.

Coming back to the thumbdrive story, which, to recap, we ended by concluding that I ought to have quit after finding the 4GB drive. Rationality would dictate this to be the proper course: (a) I needed only one thumbdrive to fulfil my scanning targets and (b) I didn’t have all that much time. If I had just left with the 4GB thumbdrive, I would have just spent 20 mins away from the library. But, no! I was determined to find the 2GB drive. In my wool jacket and sweating very much like a pig, I rummaged through my drawers not once, but thrice. It has got to be there; I remember bringing it! But it was nowhere to be found. 15 minutes in – it took me just 2 mins max to find the 4GB drive – I resolved to leave. Ok, this search isn’t going to work, so just go back to the scanning! I inched towards the door, but then I thought again: But if I searched a bit harder, maybe, just maybe, I can find it still! I promptly spent another 15 minutes searching for the 2GB drive.

I found nothing.

I finally left for the library again. Instead of the 20 mins I estimated I would be away for, I was away for about twice that time. So much for finishing the work before dinner!

I returned to my seat and proceeded to set up my laptop. Then, after taking the laptop out of its case, I felt a lump in the case. There is a pocket on the front of the case and there was a rectangular protrusion on it.

Could it be? (Or in my normal course of self-talk: Bu hui ba?)

It was the 2GB thumbdrive. Not one, but two – the one I had gotten free from the library survey, and another which I might have thought I had, but was surely not the object of my obsessive search.

The laptop and its case – as you will recall – were always with me. I brought them to the library, set them up the first time, realised I had no thumbdrive, packed them up, went home with them, did the fruitless search, went back to the library with them: they were with me all the time.

And what about the things I was searching for? They too were with me all this while, closer than I thought.

If only I had stopped to feel the things closest to me. Because the things that I wanted so much – in this story – were always with me and not anywhere else.

*****

What is the point of this long narrative?

Some points for now:

1. Sometimes I worry too much without thinking. Worry – like obsession – takes over and overpowers me; us. Rational people would realise that worry is not good. It is not efficient to worry. Worry itself takes time and solves nothing. Time being a limited resource, it is far better to do something that yields returns out of it than something that does not. That is the thought of a rational person.

But I suppose Christians have stronger reason not to worry. The Bible plainly tells us not to worry. In a passage which gives both encouragement and light in days of greyness:

Matthew 6:25-28

Do Not Worry

²⁵“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? ²⁶Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? ²⁷Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

²⁸“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. ²⁹Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. ³⁰If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? ³¹So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ ³²For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. ³³But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. ³⁴Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Do not worry, do not worry, do not worry.

No less than Jesus Himself has told us not to worry. In His able hands all our cares we can cast upon, and worry not, worry free. It is plain that sometimes we forget this – I forget – in fleeting moments of anxiousness. But there seems to be no reason – either on rationality or what Jesus has said – to worry unduly. So that’s the first message from this story – I worried, obsessed, too much when I shouldn’t.

2. Instead of worrying, delight in God’s promise of help – sometimes all it takes is to stop and listen.

1 Peter 5:7

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

Sometimes all it takes is to stop, and petition and then to listen. The thumbdrive example might have seem miniscule – and while of course God is capable of all things – sometimes it does seem “odd” to be asking for the minutest things. But He cares, and He has said so. The core message – that what I wanted was always near me – is a resonating one. It resonates with the promise that God has made to his believers – that he cares for them. That he will take care of them, and that there is no need to worry.

Sometimes, all it takes it for us to stop worrying, stop obsessing, and to listen. And from that, maybe, we might realise the greatest gift of all is not in the yearning and the searching, but that it is always with us.

Just like the thumbdrive in the laptop case.

#37: If P then Q

There are plenty of reasons to dislike legal theory.  Some examples include: it is too abstract and theoretical; it is more “fluff” than “substance”; and of course, there is no “practical value”.  My preferred reason for disliking the subject is that almost every legal theorist tried/tries his best to make sure that he cannot be understood in just one reading of the material. Many times, hundreds of pages devoted to convoluted explications of a theory can be reduced to paragraphs. Then again, the same can be said for many forms of literature, legal or otherwise. Still it’s a little strange that I decided to take legal theory in my fourth year in law school, and yet another course on legal theory during my masters. Well, for one, it may be a subject that I’m interested in teaching if there’s a lack of people doing it. For another, and as I’m discovering by the day, there is so much more to legal theory that is to be learned — confirming my belief then, that there is always a purpose to these acts of seeming madness.

I came into my master’s course on jurisprudence thinking that it will be an opportunity for me to concretise my understanding of Hart, Finnis, Dworkin et al — not to mention the legal realists and CLS forerunners. In typical (?) Harvard fashion, however, the course is examined from a very unique angle. The perspective is that of logic — logic not in the general sense, but in the precise senses of deduction, induction, abduction, and analogy. Holmes’ simple but famous quip of “the life of the law has not been logic” is semantically deconstructed and decimated and concluded as logically fallacious; Hart’s declaration of the “two minimum conditions” of a legal system is revealed as having only one foot through the door of the “high criterial ambition”. I forgot to mention that this course was pitched as an “introductory” course to jurisprudence.

As I continue to grapple with the increasing complexities of this course, something has stood out for me. Married to (and in defence of) Holmes’ claim that it is more than just logic that decides cases is Dewey’s claim (which in turn is derived from John Stuart Mills) that every single human intellectual  endeavour — be it the maths, the sciences, the humanities — is entirely driven by inductive reasoning. Deductive reasoning is a sham. Accordingly, in the Holmes-Dewey world, we are asked (implicitly?) to forsake deductive reasoning, because we can never “really” know anything with absolute certainty — everything is a matter of degree of probability.  To them, the furthest we can go is to say “it is very likely” that this proposition is correct. But, even if we grant them that, is there really any fruitfulness in hiding behind the veils of improbability? Is there really never a point where one can say, this is where I believe it is correct and it goes beyond probability?

The reason I mention this is because it reminds me of why people choose to reject God; where “how do you know” is only applied in the context of belief but not disbelief, and this Holmes-Dewey excuse of improbability serves as a false distraction. It is true that if no reason presents itself to make somebody believe, then that person should not believe. The converse is as valid; if there are really reasons why somebody should not believe, then that person should also not believe. The problem is that the reasons for disbelieving are often unsubstantiated, misinformed, and/or attributable to questionable generalisations and assumptions.  A cynic reading this may point to the irony of the preceding statement, but he or she will be urged to think again. Does one truly comprehend the basis of a person’s belief, if the invitation to belief is predicated on actually taking a step of starting to believe in the first place? To put my point in less abstract terms: is every single reason that you doubt or disbelieve in a god really built on the backs of certitude? My suspicion is that it is far from the case. Naturally, the counterpoint is: is every single reason I believe in God really built on such absoluteness? And I will say, take it from me that my answer is yes, but don’t just leave it at that. If this matter is an important and meaningful one for you, and you trust that you are not dealing with a lunatic’s testimony, then take the further step of finding out how God can be revealed to you. Mythical and superstitious? Not quite — it is precisely because we are all given free wills, that the truth will never be forced upon us.

#36: Giving

I think one thing that growing up and having a boyfriend has changed in me is my attitude towards giving. When I was younger I liked to think of myself as a thrifty person and I enjoyed saving money and watching the money in my piggy bank grow. My family saw me, however, as a stingy person who did not give freely. In those days I would defend myself by saying that I was saving for the future and in any case, I gave more to the church than my siblings did. Now, I’ve come to realise that my arguments were actually missing the point. First, my family was not suggesting that it was wrong to save for the future, rather, they wanted me to be a more generous person – not so that they could benefit from my genorosity but because they wanted me to derive joy from giving to others as well as rewarding myself. Also, upon reflection, I think that another aspect to it was that they did not want me to value money too highly at the expense of other more important things. Second, certainly it was good that I had more to give to the church as a result of my saving project but God does not look at absolute figures but at the heart. I am reminded now of the incident where a woman who quietly gave two mites, being all she had, was seen by God as a greater giver than a wealthy man who proudly poured a fraction of his wealth onto the offering plate (as I imagine it). So I tried to make a start on giving but even this was a calculated move to a large extent and the impression of my family members remained the same. Although they recognised that I gave often to charity and other good causes, they still sensed, accurately I must say, that I tended to avoid spending money on, for lack of a better word, ”things”.

When I grew up some more and met my boyfriend, we had a conversation that happened to touch on the fact that, in monetary terms or in terms of “things”, I gave him much less than he gave me. At that time I used another argument – I like to give what cannot be valued, for instance, my time, comforting words, and acts of service like cooking a meal or making a gift. Although I certainly did not see it at that time, upon reflection this argument may also be said to be missing the point. Certainly my boyfriend appreciated those types of gifts but his underlying concern really echoed that of my family members from my younger days - that I should calculate less, do more, and be happier doing more.

I must say that I have no lack of examples of great givers to learn from. Apart from my boyfriend, another great giver is my sister. From a young age, she always gave freely – be it of her time, of herself, or of her money. For the purposes of this post, I focus on the money part. My sister is known in my family as somewhat of a spendthrift, but when they refer to her as that they more often say it as a sort of disguised compliment rather than as a disparaging remark. Of course, this is in large part because my sister is not a spendthrift in the sense that she squanders away all her pocket money or her income; rather, she is more accurately described as someone who enjoys spending money and does not hesitate to do so whether it is to buy a dress she likes or to buy a meal for someone else. Occasionally she bemoans the fact that maybe she spent too much on something but on balance, these are infrequent and I can say with certainty that she spends far less time dwelling on spending too much, than I do thinking about whether I should buy something or not. In short, blessed is the cheerful giver and not the calculative giver.

Before this post becomes too rambly, let me pause now to say that certainly personality differences have a lot to do with whether or not one starts out in life as more inclined to give than not. But holding on to something because “that’s who I am” can become a convenient excuse for not recognising a problem and addressing it. I am blessed to be surrounded with generous givers, the greatest of whom I have saved for last – God himself who gave his only son so that the world may be saved. This gift was not a monetary gift, but it showed that God would spare nothing because of his love for us. It is this attitude of sparing nothing for love or unconditional love that is at the heart of giving and it is this which I prayerfully aspire to. My attempts earlier in life to be more generous now seem very small, insignificant and in some ways, fake. Since committing this area of my life to God, I certainly have not turned into my sister – I still don’t like buying material things for myself, I still enjoy saving, and I still probably think a little too much about whether something is worth buying as a gift or not, but I think I am now beginning to experience the joys of expending money through genuine giving.

#35: The long and short

One of the requirements of my masters program is that I have to write a paper. Essentially, we get to choose between doing the 25 page and the 75 page paper, of which there is no modular credit for the former. The longest case note or article I’ve ever written hardly exceeded 15,000 words (papers I’d written longer than that mostly did not comprise original research), and for the 75 page paper we’re probably looking at something close to 40,000 to 50,000 words. I took a long time in deciding whether the 75 page paper was a wise option. The principal advantages are that I get to do one less module (if I want to), and there is a possibility I can try to publish the end product (in parts). But then there are the related problems of finding a good topic, finding a good supervisor, and of course devoting a lot of time to the project. On hindsight, I should have been more disciplined (and sincere) in my prayer, reflection and asking of wisdom — but still after a month of asking for the matter to yield its conclusion, the conclusion arrived. The answer was pretty much staring at me in my face all along: my background in jurisprudence; my fascination with Wikipedia; and my current enrollment in the jurisprudence class. I combined those elements in my mind and a possible topic became clearer and clearer to me. Eventually I took the plunge and talked to my professor. He was very kind, even offering a few helpful tips on how to make the topic even more nuanced, and offered new perspectives as well. Indeed, in all matters big or small, we need to rely on more than just what our intellectual moods dictate.

#34: Atlantic roadtrip

Over the past week or so, I was privileged to go on a road trip vacation with some friends. The trip spanned an American state and 3 Canadian provinces, and it was mostly nature, scenery and small quiet towns rather than the bright lights and buzz of a major city. We saw things like red sandstone cliffs and national parks with coves and beaches, and hiked trails that gave us beautiful panoramic views of the sea that met the roads and the trees. Even though we only had one driver, and our plan was really a last-minute epiphany, everything really went well. When we look at the magnitude of the world, the intricacies of creation, and the ability of man to help one another create meaningful experiences — don’t we ask from where does all this come from?

#33: Horse before the cart

Is there a greater exhortation to live by faith than Hebrews 11? But in the first place, what does it mean to live by faith? Yesterday, we went to visit a church that was highly recommended by our predecessors (we haven’t settled on a final church it seems). The speaker, who spoke on Hebrews 11, touched on a point about faith that I think is important, and something I forget occasionally. He said that if one maintained a distance from God and tried to analyse all the information, history and evidence, he may not necessarily be able to (in fact, probably cannot) conclude that God exists. To “see” or experience God, one must first take that step (of faith?) of believing, and only then will the evidence be forthcoming. I prefer to look at it another way. I think up till the point we take that step of allowing God into our lives, we will have plenty of clues as to God’s existence. The problem is that we can come to a whole variety of conclusions about these clues. We might deem them inconclusive; we might resolve them “rationally”, attributing things to science or logic or reason; and of course, we might just ignore them. And it’s not like a magic formula either. It isn’t akin to saying to yourself, God please appear and the next day He’s staring at you when you wake up. It’s a slow (though not always) but sure process of revelation, where the mileage you require to meet your need may only be matched by the mileage you had created between you and God in the past. There will be uncertainties and disappointments, but at the end of the day, when you have lived by the Word as best as you can, I believe the larger picture will not be lost on you. The day somebody accepts God may be a moment of epiphany, or it may be after a long time of reflection and pondering. Whichever the case that may apply to you, consider what has been said: when you genuinely accept, clarity follows. For all the benefits of freedom that you have enjoyed, what will you give in return?

#32: Interpretation

I have always been fascinated with the interpretation of legal documents. How does one interpret, or seek to understand, a contract or a piece of legislation? Is there an overriding law which governs our attempt to understand these documents?

For statutes, it has been accepted – at least in certain countries – that the proper way to interpret is to discern the purpose of the statute and interpret the wordings as such. The aim is to give effect to the legislator’s intent, and not to legislate in turn. There therefore is a litany of colourful phrases used to describe this attempt: judges should not legislate; there is a line between interpreting and creating; and judges should give effect, not effectively give, the legislator’s will.

The same is true for contracts. We interpret contracts according to what the original parties intended. In many ways this is even more true for contracts than statutes, for in contracts it is possible to speak of an intention truly emanating from the parties. In contrast, it is often fiction to speak of a united legislative intent. Many times we simply assume, by default, that there is such a thing. Without such an assumption, indeed, it would be impossible to ascertain a uniform intent given the multiplicity in the make-up of Parliament.

Yet in both these documents there is an overriding mechanism. Sometimes, the courts may pronounce that a statute has been wrongly written, and thus they should correct it. Other times, they say that had the legislature thought about the issue, they would have uttered something along the lines of: “Hey, if we thought about it we would have done it differently!” And so on that basis the courts alter the meaning of the statute (or “interpret” it to be so). The same is with contracts. Where parties contract for an illegal or immoral purpose, the courts sometimes do not give effect to them. Certainly there is a different between the interpretation and enforcement of a contract, for which case here the latter holds true, but the point is sometimes the parties’ intention is not given effect to.

What is the point of all this? It is this: how does one interpret the word of God?

At bottom, if we analogise from the examples given above, the answer is clear: we seek to give effect to what He thinks.

When we read the Bible, how do we interpret the words? Are they to be literally understood? I suppose not, otherwise we would be doing (and not doing) a lot of things literally expressed in the Bible. Then there is the contextual understanding of the words. By this approach, it is said that words must be understood in their context – context in the narrow sense includes words before and after the words being interpreted; context in the broad-sense means historical and other facts outside of the words being interpreted.

This approach has much to commend it, but it is easily open to abuse. Thus, statutes have been interpreted under the guise of contextualism to give effect to the interpreter’s will, not the author’s. Same with contracts. Can it really be said that the reasonable man would have uttered “Oh, of course” when asked whether a term ought to be implied in fact? I would think that, the narrowness of the test notwithstanding, there will be instances where it is the courts which utter the magical trio of words and not that the contracting party would have (the party did not, hence the implication).

The same abuse is capable of manifesting itself when interpreting God’s words. How often have we, upon reading passages in the Bible, thought: Well, that happens in ancient times, these days, these things don’t matter anymore? Separating the immutable from the transient is the holy grail of any interpreter. The presupposition of the contextual – as opposed to the literal – approach is that words are not the end of interpretation; there lies beyond the words a hidden meaning which withstands changes to current context. (Indeed the same might be said to some degree about the literal approach.) But how do we discern this?

I have no clear answer, save to say that, in understanding God’s words, we must remain guided in prayer… unlike statutes and contracts, where it is not possible – because of the fact of litigation and the complexity of the author’s makeup – to ask the original author what he meant, it actually is possible with the Bible (and the like). It is possible to ask God what exactly He meant.

Is there then one correct interpretation of the Bible? The fact that different denominations adopt different practices show that there is scope for disagreement even amongst churches. And indeed, no human being – give our fallible condition and imperfect knowledge – can ever claim to know everything that God knows or means. We can only approach that standard from a distance. But even here there is a concurrent message. Whatever God means (the present tense is deliberately used), the greatest message of all is that of love. We might disagree with one another, but above that, we must love each other. Thus disagreement must not transform into an excuse for dislike. Disagreement and detest are wholly different matters. I don’t think it is an understatement to say God disagrees with many things we do, but does that stop Him from disliking us? If He did, then woe be to us, for there is no limit to His wrath, should it be so exercised.

The thing I think can be said is this – even when we disagree, we must not detest nor dislike. We can persuade – with respect – and so long as we have interpreted the Bible in the honest belief that we are indeed giving effect to the Author’s intent, and not our own, then we can persuade with a clear conscience. I came across this quote a few days back which spoke to me: “We should care about our own sins than seek to comment on others.” That is true. Whether it is murder or just telling a “white lie”, these are all sins to God. They may vary in seriousness across a wide spectrum for us, but judged against Perfection and Truth, they are but different shades of one big, bad thing.

And so in interpreting the Bible, we give effect to God’s words and not our own intent. But because we can never profess to know as God does, there will be times for disagreement. But in times of disagreement, we must not disagree viciously, but lovingly, and so long as we honestly believe we are accountable to God (and only the interpreter and God know the answer to that), we can be clear in our conscience. The message of love, however, is one I think is universal in the Bible and its interpretation, and “enforcement” (to use a “non-loving” word) is truly a manifestation of the ultimate message of yielding ourselves to His (perfect) will.

#31: Parents III

There are some posts on parents on this site and I thought I add to the theme… I have had more experiences with babies here than ever before. This is because many of my classmates brought their children along, so I have babies of all ages and sizes. I think it is easy to appreciate why we will always be children in the eyes of our parents after having seen this. When you have seen someone in his or her most helpless state, scrambling for food, struggling to walk, blabbering babyish, then it is clear why this is so. But seeing the situation from the other way around, it is also easy to appreciate our parents a bit more. Seeing how the parents literally baby the baby, feed the baby and basically keeping their tempers in check at times… all these show how difficult it is to care for and nurture a child. These have all made me more appreciative of the care that parents give me.

Is it like that with our Heavenly Father? For Him to have seen us in our most imperfect state, it is easy to appreciate why He cares so much for what is in essence His creation. But as with parents, there comes a point when the babying must stop… in this sense the essence of free choice is clear, for we all have a choice to make whether we want to follow in a certain path.

The same is true both for our earthly and heavenly parents – which choice do we make, bearing in mind the love and concern that has been showered upon us? One borne out of appreciation or one out of rebellion?

#30: Saving one life at a time

Even in prosperous countries there are many beggars. Everyday here we encounter people asking for spare change or trying to sell something for spare change (in an interesting eg, someone tried to sell a “spare change” newspaper for spare change). It takes some getting used to in order to walk past the beggars with blinking an eye but still – perhaps – feeling something in the heart. Many years ago, someone told me – in the same country – that it is impossible to help everyone. If we were to give one dollar to every beggar we see, we would be poor by the end of it. The advice given was “to save one life at a time”.

A few weeks ago, I saw the same phrase on a truck. I think it belonged to some charitable organisation, but there it was. It reminded me of not wanting to do too much at a time. This has several applications.

1. To actually feel like helping people. The presupposition behind the phrase is that helping people – loving thy neighbour – is a good thing, and is not to be discouraged. Sometimes the abundance of a problem causes us to get used to it and therefore forget there was a problem in the first place. Same for beggars or needy people – do their numbers really mean they can be ignored? I suppose being open to helping is the first step to helping, and deciding who to help, how to help and to help in what extent.

2. To realise the impossibility of helping everyone. It is impossible to help everyone. I think it might be correct to say that even though God has the theoretical capacity to help everyone, even He cannot help everyone if we do not open our hearts and lives to Him. What more of us? It is far more important to realise this than to waste resources worrying about helping everyone. It also makes for better allocation, I suppose.

3. It is possible to help others to a greater extent. It is possible to help more people in some way. One good way is to introduce someone to church – that multiplies and you save more than one life at a time. The word “save” is in this case double sense – you literally save a life, and you also get to save many lives after that.

Unfortunately I started writing this at a bad time and need to go now… but more on this later.

#29: Wonders of nature

A few days ago I visited the Harvard Museum of Natural History and I was fascinated to see the skeleton of a cronosaurus (a huge ancient sea creature) displayed in one of the galleries. It spanned the entire length of the room and dwarfed me with its size and length. Another thing of note was the geology exhibit which showcased so many beautiful minerals and gems of all imaginable shapes and colours. Reflecting on my visit, I was reminded of what I came across in a passage of the bible that my daily devotional pointed me to – John 1:3 “All things were made by [God]; and without him was not any thing made that was made”. Recalling the amazing detail in the tiniest gemstone and the grandeur of the cronosaurus, I believe that.

#28: Sniff

I’ve always considered myself to have a good sense of smell (and also eyesight). While pleasant things like food and herbal aromas become accentuated, it’s the same case with unpleasant things, so odours and foul things smell extra foul to me. Many times, I’m able to pick up foul smells that others simply can’t (much to my severe detriment). But my nose was put to good use recently. A couple of evenings ago, I found the air in the house smelling a little strange. I soon realised that it was the smell of gas. I ran over to the kitchen to discover that the gas switch was not turned off completely (it’s quite faulty), and almost half the house was already smelling of gas. I turned off the switch and it was a while before the smell went away. In fact, I felt a little nauseous for some 10 minutes. Things could have turned out very differently — unlike back home where my house windows are always left open, we pretty much leave our windows shut all the time due to the weather. Furthermore, had I not happened to leave my room, I might never have known. It was quite late already, and the next thing I was going to do might have been to sleep, and I could well have slept through the night in a house saturated with gas. I remember that a friend in church once told me that each of us is assigned an angel who would act as a guardian over us. Theologically, I think this concept is debated but in any event, I continue to believe that with every day I get to live, it is a blessing and only possible by the grace of God. We are all imperfect people, yet episodes like this serve to remind us that we never know when our time is up, and as such, we should always do our best in doing all things right.

#27: Parents II

In my younger, more athletic days, my parents supported my sporting endeavours every step along the way. My dad coached me in distance running from an early age, driving me to different stadiums and running trails in Singapore to give my legs a workout. When there was a competition, my mum and dad would be in the stands, cheering me on. If they needed to be away from their work, they would be away from their work. They would be at the finishing line when I crossed the tape — regardless of how well I did — ready with words of encouragement and an isotonic (sometimes, oxygen-boosting) drink. Some sort of celebratory meal would often follow and sometimes my friends were invited as well. Also, in the weeks leading up to the competition, my mum would tailor my meals to my needs and stock up the supplements. When I become a dad one day, I hope to be (with my wife!) at every event my children participates in, in the same way that my dad and mum had done for me. This is the least I can do.

#26: Praying for others

Someone asked me recently: does prayer really work? Any fruitful discussion (biblical or otherwise) of this question will take a long time to even get started, but I wish to make a brief comment on another aspect of the question: will I get something that I didn’t pray for? This is not really as no-brainer as it seems. I mean, insofar as we co-exist with others within a space and interactions take place within that space, we will often get things that we didn’t ask for when thousands upon thousands of decisions collide. For instance, I might be walking along my neighbourhood one day and I spot some abandoned furniture that I could use for my own house. I won’t have been praying for free furniture, but there it is. You could safely say, I suspect, that I chanced upon such good fortune. What about something of a larger scale. Let’s say my state of health. I don’t always have the discipline of praying for my own health, yet it seems like it has remained in decent condition for some time. To my mind, it is no doubt the grace of God, but another dimension to it is actually prayer — from others. Along the way I’ve discovered that there have been numerous kind people who actually remember and take the time to pray for my health regularly. So, the next time you get something you didn’t pray for, perhaps ask if it’s possible that someone else was actually praying for you.

#25: Transcendence

A question to ponder: which religion, faith or belief system has been the most successful or perhaps widespread, in transcending race, ethnicity, geography, philosophy and/or time? And is this even worth pondering?

#24: A peculiarity

I grew up in a pentecostal church – meaning that I attended Sunday school in one before joining youth programs and finally becoming part of the adult congregation. My understanding of being pentecostal is that I believe in the move of the Holy Spirit; I believe that the Holy Spirit is constantly with me and that there may be tangible manifestations of the Holy Spirit be it in the form of speaking in tongues, or a supernatural and personal encounter.

Of course, I did not instinctively and immediately embrace all these things. I remember that when I first graduated from Sunday school to join the adult services I was somewhat surprised at hearing my pastor speak in a strange form of language and then noticed that many others did so too. I observed that frequently the languages sounded very similar and I wondered if people just copied each other. At other times the language sounded more like incoherent noises or mutterings. I later found out that these were called “tongues”or “speaking in tongues”. I also learnt (from reading the bible and from sermons) about how the early Christians spoke in tongues after a visitation from the Holy Spirit and how it had many benefits, including edification of one’s spirit, and that it could also be a special means of communicating with God when one didn’t know what words to say. I grew to accept that speaking in tongues could be a genuinely important aspect of developing a close personal relationship with God and decided to pray for what in church lingo is called the “baptism of the Holy Spirit”.

This happened when I was quite young – about 11 years old – and I remember that as I stood together with a number of other like-minded young people who had responded to the pastor’s invitation to be prayed for, I felt my mouth loosen and begin to move without making a sound, gradually I began whispering strange words, then I said them a little louder. I cannot remember whether this took 5 minutes or 15 but I do remember feeling a unique sense of comfort and peace during the process that remains with me till this day. When I pray, sometimes I pause and switch to use the strange “tongue”. At other times I pray using that foreign tongue first, asking in my heart meanwhile that I will be shown how and what to pray for when I finally switch to English. All this of course happens in private or in my church. I realise that this concept of “speaking in tongues” is foreign and perhaps peculiar to the extent of being unacceptable to many other denominations of Christians so when I am with my university discipleship group or other groups of Christians, I do not speak in a different tongue aloud.

So what is the point I am trying to make with all this? Well, I’m not trying to convince everyone to speak in different tongues or to justify my own actions and beliefs. Perhaps I hope that you can understand a little better why some Christians do speak in tongues, but essentially I really want to say that just as people have different ways of expressing their love for someone, so different Christians may have different ways of communicating with God. If you think I am peculiar, I do understand, because I also had similar thoughts myself at one time. But this peculiarity has brought me much comfort and strength and I only pray that I will have the wisdom to practise it at appropriate times such that it will bring blessing rather than fear.

#23: Seeds

What we plant today, will we ever get to reap? To use this blog as an example: I don’t know who comes here regularly — and I don’t know if it even makes a real difference to anybody. But I have the great hope that somewhere down the line, somebody might think of something that has been said here, and on the basis of that recollection, make a decision a certain way. On the day I accepted Jesus, a wave of memories came rushing back. I recalled the male stranger who encouraged me to take that leap of faith after I’d watched my friend’s musical performance at the YWCA. I recalled some of the messages that the reverends had made during chapel services; abstract verses suddenly made sense and spoke to me. I recalled friends who had prayed for me and the positive things they said even as I kept turning down their invitations to attend their church services. I recalled the belief in my friend’s eyes when he said I would become a man of God one day. And the list goes on. It is my desire then, that my fellow contributors and I will be able to record entries on this blog that can make some impact on somebody some day. We don’t expect grand or instant results, but we believe that the little things will add up eventually, and the seeds we plant today, someone would help water them for us if we can’t.

#22: Hybrid

The three of us who are in Cambridge now needed to find a church. It wasn’t a straightforward task in that one of us was raised in the Presbyterian context; another in the Pentecostal context; and another in the Methodist context. On the recommendation of a former teacher of mine, we visited the Vineyard. It turned out that its practices were significantly Charismatic. Naturally, the Pentecostal probably had the least difficulty adapting. The Methodist — well, me, although I’d spent almost 6 years in a Pentecostal church as well (and 1 year in a Presbyterian church) — didn’t have much difficulty adapting either. The Presbyterian was, I surmise, the least used to the setting but he, like the rest of us, can accept that different denominations will have different practices.

We don’t know yet if we’ll return to the Vineyard the next time round even we though we all enjoyed the worship and the message. Personally, I felt that the church had an interesting “hybrid” appearance that piqued my curiousity. On the one hand, it had the exterior of a traditional church building; in fact, on the inside, it even had the “traditional” elements such as stained glass windows and a pipe organ. These “traditional” elements appealed to the “old school” part in me, because much as I’ve been attending Pentecostal services and I’m only self-classified as Methodist due to the schools I’d attended, there are many things I like about the old school. But, on the other hand, the interior of the church also had many “modern elements”: cushioned chairs (indeed, they look very similar to the ones at my home church) replaced pews; an electronic band set-up replaced the choir stands, etc. And of course, the worship style was distinctively modern.  Is this interesting combination of the old and the new a way of telling me this might be the place? I’ll need to spend more time thinking and praying about it.

#21: Clouds in the Sun

Where I am, there is a lot of sun. So much that it is much warmer and brighter than I am used to. But I am not so much affected by the warmth as I am by the brightness. Whereas people enjoy a nice day out at the beach, I dislike being out in the bright light. This is not because I hate having a good tan, or some other reason like that, but because I see things floating in the sky which are highly disturbing.

You see, I have very bad eyesight. And part of that affliction means that I see things floating around. I think this is not at all uncommon; indeed, most short-sighted people see dots floating around at some point too. The difference, I think, is that I see not only dots, but also lines, clouds and whatever rubbish. When I squint, it’s like a net covering my field of vision. Of course it takes a bright light source to make this happen: the lines, etc, I am told by my eye doctor, are basically veins, and voids in the gel of my eye that get cast as shadows against my retina. So because my eyesight isn’t so great, I am told seeing these things is “natural”.

It wasn’t always like that. Before Secondary 4 I didn’t see these things although my eyesight was also quite terrible. Then one fine day – no doubt as a result of studying for the Os under inadequate lighting – I saw a rather unusual vein-like thing in my field of vision. Naturally, I got quite worried. A few days passed with me staying in bed and trying not to use my eyes, in the hope that the thing would somehow disappear. It didn’t, and was soon accompanied by more things, webs, ribbons, clouds; the whole works. I finally told my parents about it who fixed an appointment with an opthamologist. Up till then, I had no idea who these people were. The doctor examined my eyes in a routine I was to become very familiar with – the dilation of the pupils and the shining of a bright torchlight into them. It wasn’t painful, but certainly wasn’t comfortable either. The doctor said that there was nothing wrong with my eyes and that I would have to live with the floaters. He said many people had them too, but perhaps I saw more; he had no way of accurately making a comparison.

Well, fine, I thought. But it got very irritating. As I read chunks of text the clouds, under lights which I now invested in, would follow me from left to right, and then right to left. It was as if there was someone dancing on the pages themselves. I also got paranoid – I thought I was going to go blind anytime soon and immersed myself in reading up about eyesight and eye diseases. I found out that if I saw more lines than usual, I might have a retinal tear or something, and so I made it a point to check on these floating things by looking at a bright-lit torch everyday and squinting. But it didn’t end that, and I visited the doctor something once every two months since the initial diagnosis – just to make sure things were right.

Then in JC 1, I had a book thrown into one eye and that made one vein especially prominent, even in low light. So I see this thing floating even when I am not in bright light. Again I was insecure, and had to see the eye doctor every now and then to make sure things are right.

Now what is the point of this? It isn’t to gain pity; it isn’t to have people say to me, ok I didn’t know that, take care. I guess after a while, one’s insecurities get overboard, and we all seek some kind of human interface to remedy it. But is that the best way? Certainly if there is a problem, a visit to the doctor is important, but is that always the case? Can we feed our insecurities however else? And when we are afflicted with some kind of problem, do we give up? Reading was a pain for me for sometime, but after a while, either through the automatic tuning out of my mind or the day-to-day adjustment of avoiding bright lights, I got used to it. Ironically, some may say, I am in a profession where reading is key. Will I ever get used to this fully? I guess not, but adjustments can be made, and insecurities allayed – and I think one part of that is spiritual, not by way of seeing human doctors.

#20: Human effort

As mentioned by the creator of this blog, I am the second of those invited to contribute. My thoughts will probably be nowhere as profound as his nor as well reasoned, but I do hope that my posts can be true contributions in the way envisaged – that is, that they will be able to speak to readers of this blog in a meaningul way.

This leads me to the subject matter of this post. It takes more than thoughtfulness, preparation and stylistic editing before a blog post may actually resonate with a reader. Sometimes it is an off the cuff phrase that we remember best; at other times it may be the most crudely put statement. In my limited life experience, I have found that human effort can only take me so far – the rest has to do with what some may call opportunity or luck. I prefer to see it as a divine plan unfolding in my life.

One area that I have expended quite a large amount of effort on is being “good”. I was brought up in a Christian family and attended church regularly. One of the church programs for young girls was a group called the “prims” – short for primroses. We had a song that went like this:

P is for the promise, the promise to be kind. R is for the right way to serve with heart and mind. I is for the ideal girl that God wants me to be. M is for the melody of joy God gives to me. We are prims who follow Jesus every day, showing love and kindness while we work and play.

In a way, this is how I have tried to live my life, but at a certain point I found that being kind was more draining than uplifting and I became more irritable, especially towards my loved ones. Sometimes I thought that kindness was not worth it, especially when it was unappreciated or viewed as motive-driven. There was no melody of joy, but a sort of doggedness. Every time I had lapses like that, I would feel very guilty and try hard to make amends but, inevitably, they would happen again. I wish I could say that once I came to a certain realisation I overcame this problem and am now overflowing with love, kindness and joy. That didn’t really happen, but in my daily bible readings, when I attended church or sometimes during a conversation with a Christian friend, there was always an appropriate bible verse or word to remind me that I am not perfect, that I am able to love only because God first loved me, to take up His yoke and find rest, to cast my cares on Jesus because he cares for me, and so on. Each time, I am able to pick myself up, dust myself off and start all over again. It is a wonderful thing to know that there is a place where I can draw strength and hope as well as a capacity to love.

#19: Administrative update

A quick note: two friends of mine have now come onboard as contributors to this blog — it’s a slight deviation from the original concept, but a good deviation. Hope you enjoy reading the posts, and do tell your friends about it

#18: The sky’s the limit

Almost a third of my Basic Military Training platoon wanted to sign on as regulars, either for the Navy or the Air Force. I wanted to sign on for the Air Force too because I thought (never mind the super high attrition) it was good money and of course, it seemed like a very prestigious vocation. I recall that there were dozens of us holed up in an air-conditioned room as we were called one by one to an interview room. All my platoon mates who had emerged from the interview room looked happy, because they were all offered contracts on the spot. I asked for some tips, and they said things like “just say you like Top Gun” and “just say you want it for the money”. It didn’t seem hard to get into this top job.

When I was called into the interview room, I was greeted by a Colonel, a female Major, and two hitherto unidentified ladies. The Colonel didn’t waste time — he asked me if it was “for real” if I had, as stated in my form, relatives who had received pilot training or who were pilots. I said yes, of course it was for real, why would I lie — my uncle was indeed a commercial pilot. They asked me what his name was, which I duly gave. The Colonel rebuffed me, claiming that he had never heard of my uncle’s name before, and given that he knew “every pilot in Singapore”, he turned to the unidentified females for affirmation. Turns out that one of them was a “psychologist”, who nodded knowingly at the Colonel and confirmed that “yes, he’s lying”.

I was astounded, only to be pummelled by another question by the Major. “You’re an arts student, right. So you’re not good at maths and science. Usually, such students don’t make good pilots.” By this time, I knew that the interview was over. I had no idea why I was subjected to this circus act, so I replied: “You’re a female right. Usually, females aren’t hired by the Air Force. But you’re obviously good enough to defeat stereotypical thinking. Why can’t it be the same for me?” The Colonel lost his cool and shredded the contract right in my face. The surreal experience was over even before it began.

Looking back, who knows how life would have turned out if I had signed on. I may not have made the final grade, but life would nevertheless have been very different. I would have met different people, and made different choices. Looking at what I have now, those would all have been mistakes. Fortunately, much as it took a circus act to have the unintended effect of averting those mistakes, I’m sure from a higher perspective, it wasn’t unintended.

#17: London, 2009

My flight to Boston involved a 9-hour stopover at London, and it presented an opportunity for my friends and I to take a short tour, except that we were supposed to touch down at 6 am and we needed to be back at Heathrow before 1 pm. So we tried to be less ambitious, aiming to just cover a couple of sights along the Thames and if we were really lucky, we might just be able to squeeze in some Bayswater roast duck.

Things went smoothly from the outset: we cleared the customs by 620, and we were staring up the Westminster clock tower by 755. We bought a day pass, and hoped for the best, for the London Underground is always unpredictable. As it were, a couple of lines were down but not the Circle/District ones, the lines that we needed operational to complete our modest plan of covering Westminster, Trafalgar and St Paul. With all the trains arriving within seconds of us hitting the platforms, by 1100, we were already at Bayswater. I knew from past experience that Four Seasons only opened at 12, but I was hoping that the other stalls would open earlier. They all refused to. So we were faced with a choice of either waiting till 12 and gorging down a meal in 5 minutes and on top of that hope that we could catch the 1230 Connect, or simply eat something else. If you understood my rather crazy obsession with roast duck, you’ll know that the former was a much more palatable option. Eventually, we decided that we should just forsake the opportunity and err on the side of caution.  This decision proved to be the correct one, because when we checked in for our Boston leg, the whole process took so long that had we taken a chance with the duck, we could well have been cut off from our flight. Heathrow is that ruthless…

#16: Temptation

A week ago, a friend of mine sought some advice on overcoming temptation. My initial replies were predicated on my own experiences and knowledge of day-to-day living. As I thought deeper about the question, I realised that my replies required substantiation, preferably of the biblical variety. A whole series of strange events led me to that path.

I’d arrived in the US four days ago. One of the things I wanted to get was cable TV so that I could watch sports, and in no time at all the technician was down at our house, declaring that “you’re all set”. We were anything but set, because of all the channels, the entire sports suite was down. Their phone support staff couldn’t resolve the problem, so we had to live with the other channels for the time being. To make matters worse, our internet connection was also down so there was little to do in the house.

Just yesterday morning, I woke up a little earlier than usual. I had my breakfast and was ready to call on the rest to explore more of the city, but for some reason I decided to switch on the television. Moreover, I was feeling sleepy again and felt like sleeping, but I thought why not just watch some TV. I wasn’t familiar with the channel line up so I simply chose channel 23 (which is the sports channel back in Singapore). It turned out that it was an evangelistic channel. The thing about channels is that sometimes the programs can be quite over the top (and thus a possible discredit to the faith). But, as I listened more closely to the speaker’s message, I realised that something his message was entitled “Responding to Temptation Wisely”, and his message seemed to make a lot of (biblical) sense. Initially, I thought this might be something useful to me because I was after all in a new place, facing new challenges.  Of course, after a little while longer, it dawned upon me that this was actually the perfect sermon to pass to my friend!

#15: Memories of an old shirt

The owner of this blog has very kindly invited me to write some entries in this blog. I will do my best not to disappoint him. Like him, I think my entries are intended to chronicle my own spiritual experience. Unlike him, I write in a less attractive style; the owner has kindly said this adds variety, but I think – in all honesty – this adds a blot to this otherwise fine blog. But messy blot or scintillating plot, I will be honest and reflective; truthful and contemplative, although at times my desire to hide who I am (for privacy reasons) will mean things seem more like blots than not.

***

Time flies. This day five years ago, I embarked on a journey which I will undertake again in a little less than 20 hours from now. In a deliberate nod to memory, I will don the same outfit as I did that day five years ago. But though I may don the same outfit, have I changed as a person? To be sure, the outfit still fits to me like a glove – happily, I suppose, since the trips to buffets do not seem to have an adverse effect on my waist size. But I suppose physical appearances, whilst important, do not count so much in the eyes of God. Sure, I may look very much the same; certainly, I (will) wear the same shirt, and the same pants; and I am most definitely embarking on the same (arguably) journey, but what does my spiritual self look, how shiny is that armour that I wear, and how far along the journey with Him have I travelled?

I wish to focus on just one aspect for this entry, and it is this: it is easy, I think, for people to focus on the bad and forget on the good. In these five years I may well have been guilty of that. But that in itself begs a more fundamental question: what is “good” and what is “bad”?

The first point, I suppose, is to remember that whilst we view things through human eyes restricted by limited knowledge, God sees thing from a wholly different perspective, and with perfect knowledge of what has been, what is, and what is to come. Thus, while I may think the same shirt I will don tomorrow is really stylo-milo, some other more fashion-savvy friend, with the benefit of a thousand fashion magazines, may well think it’s hideous. But stubborn as I am, I think it’s still really cool. And so the same analogy applies. Our characterisation of what is “good” and “bad” thus starts off from a fundamental presumption shaped by human experience. So many a times, I would think an experience “bad” – at the start of five years ago – only to be reminded by God’s grace later than that was actually “good”, if we were to cast a longer outlook into the future.

A related point is that sometimes I find myself wanting something because I think it is “good”. This of course repeats the point above, but may lead to a more general point: just how much have I surrendered my life – including my perspective of what is “good” and “bad” – to God? In the five years since, probably there has been improvement in some areas, but that is more than balanced by being stubborn in other aspects.

I suppose, in the end, we start with a renewed presumption – everything that happens to us is “good” because it is act of God for some reason which we may not know in the near future, or indeed, in our lives here. But if that presumption is applied to everything that happens, it is far easier to see things in a brighter light. As I embark on this journey again, perhaps the wish would be to leave what is “good” and what is “bad” to God – but maybe, just maybe, I’ll leave the fashion statement to my own judgment and turn up in that old, dirtied (but cleaned) outfit I wore so many years ago.

#14: A moot point, or not

In a matter of months I’m hoping to be involved in running a moot program for my school and coaching one of the moot teams. Hoping, of course, remains the operative word. Rewind 6 years back though, there was no chance on earth that I thought I’d become a mooter. There were (and still are) all sorts of tales surrounding mooting: that it was reserved only for the best students… who enjoyed torturing themselves. That one must be able to know a case so well that paragraphs could be recited verbatim at will. And, that one must be prepared to forsake right about everything that can (and must) be forsaken: grades, plus your life. As I had a good tutor, I enjoyed my legal writing course, and though I did well in my course moot, I said to myself that the preparation involved was completely miserable. Whatever so called “adrenaline” that accompanied the experience was de minimis in comparison. Therefore, trying out for one of the major international moot competitions in year 3 or 4 was anything but Plan A. My tutors tried to convince me otherwise, but failed. It didn’t help matters when I had a sudden change of heart in year 2, taking part in the internal school moot competition, only to be unceremoniously booted out in the first round.

Predictably, things panned out in a totally different manner. For a variety of reasons, I signed up for the moot course upon my return from exchange, putting up my class of honours at possible risk. Still, I didn’t set sights on any specific moot competition. I told the coaches quite frankly that I didn’t care if I was not an oralist (ie be a researcher), and out of the 6 moot teams available, I didn’t mind joning anyone of them save for one. I added too that it wasn’t necessarily the best thing to put my girlfriend and I in the same team, because sometimes we worked well together, sometimes we didn’t. When my friends heard of what I’d said to the coaches, they thought I was crazy and had jeopardised my chances. I said I just spoke from my heart.

I was eventually selected for one of the most prestigious teams. It turned out to be a highly enjoyable experience, and we even reached the semifinals of the competition. Years later, this would help open a few doors. The most important of which is that it gave me enough legitimate credentials to be invited to help run moot programs and coach moot teams, and now, I’m hoping to put the nation’s second law school on the world map for mooting. Indeed, there is just no telling how tomorrow may come.

#13: Flipside

Some of us may be familiar with Kevin Spacey’s infamous line in the 1994 film The Usual Suspects, where he says “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world the world that he didn’t exist.” Spacey’s character wasn’t the orginator of this line, but no matter for now.

Are there people who don’t believe in God but nevertheless believe that some manifestation of evil exists? The Bible certainly describes the devil as something very real and that it’ll be totally foolhardy for us to pretend that he doesn’t exist. According to the Gospel of John, “The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy…” I’ve come across preachers who make the argument (or is it biblically definite?) that the devil has little business to do with non-believers because it is far more profitable to corrupt the Christians. So, I don’t know if that’s necessarily the case, but I do know that the devil always emerges with greater regularity when I’m on a spiritual “upswing”. It’s a little tricky to document all the instances — I suppose a general way to describe is that almost every time I attempt to keep myself spiritually rich (eg, reading the Bible, going to church), circumstances will contrive to create many provocative situations. Maybe somebody will something nasty just to test me, and/or some form of bad temptation will present itself. I have to admit that it remains a frightening prospect that one can be locking horns with the devil on such a regular basis even though the hope of protection is promised.

#12: Days before acceptance

I have never been good at responding to people who are crying. Most times, I think to myself: please just stop crying. No offering of tissues (because I don’t carry any), no putting the arm round the shoulder (I don’t like doing that unnecessarily), no words of comfort. I’ll just stand in a corner and let people cry and when they’re done, I’ll say, “you done?” Maybe it’s because I’m quite a hardened person and I think there are very little things in this world that should make a person cry, even if you’re a girl. And I do practice what I preach: it takes a lot to make me shed even a tear. Still, all my “strongholds” came tumbling down two days before I accepted God.

I was at church camp in Malaysia. I’ve no idea what could possibly have made me attend such a camp, because I simply didn’t know what I was in for. It was completely a case of “I shall just go.” During the evening service, there was an altar call, and I responded (a rarity). There was nobody else with me; I’d spent that entire day pretty much alone, thinking about things. You see, throughout the camp, I had challenged God to reveal Himself and stop “playing games” with me. It seemed absurd to me that God should still remain invisible after I’d committed to paying for a trip to Malaysia (now on hindsight, big deal!) I needed answers: school wasn’t great, my attempt at having a relationship was certainly not great, financially I was truly in the pits. The anguish was immense, and I needed answers fast. And it’s not as though I’d only started asking questions during the camp — I’d been asking questions since I was very young. As I lay on the floor during the altar call, lots of thoughts flooded my mind. There were so many and I cannot recall much. The only thing I remember with certainty is that before long, I was crying. You could say fountains of tears. It lasted for probably 10 minutes, and in those 10 minutes, I felt convicted by the Holy Spirit and in my mind, images of the tons of mistakes I’d made in my life was laid bare. The sense of guilt was overwhelming; the fortresses of pride dismantled. When those 10 minutes were over, I knew I had found my answer. Something had finally been unlocked in me. I went from denial to repentance, and repentance to acceptance.

Years on, I related this to a friend. It’s catharsis, he said. But I added: even today, I feel sensitive to the Holy Spirit. When I am making decisions — particularly moral decisions — I can feel if the Spirit is in agreement, or is aggrieved. This sensitivity has heightened over the years. It’s just the conditioning of your mind responding to moral choices, the same friend insisted. Chances are, one of us is probably right.

#11: Weaving

Say what you want, but life is not easy as a taxi driver. Not many of us like taxi drivers. We think they drive dangerously and scheme to overcharge the fares, and then there are those who lie in wait for the bookings. One could make the case that the black sheep concentration in this industry is unduly high, and I’ll say I don’t know enough information to agree or disagree. What I do know is that it is a very dangerous job. This I can attest to as a son of a taxi driver. My dad’s been at the wheel for a number of years now, in part as a semi-retirement job, and in part to bring home more money. Sometimes he clocks 6 hours, other times he can go up to 14 or 16 hours. Usually it’s closer to 10 to 12 hours. He often shares grimly about the many traffic accidents he witnesses daily — many of which were fatal ones — and his occasional close shaves. Sometimes those close shaves aren’t that close at all, because he’s had his fair share of hits. I’ve sat in my dad’s car long enough to know that he’s a very good and safe driver, yet even so it’s impossible not to get involved in accidents one way or the other as a simple matter of statistical probability. In fact, just yesterday, a car two cars ahead of him punctured a tyre in the middle of an expressway and caused a pile-up. My dad’s cab had some scratches and more importantly, he was uninjured. From my point of view, everyday is a day of anxiety, because no matter how good  a driver you are, bad drivers can still cause you accidents. I am simply thankful that God has kept him largely safe in the past few years. We are not far away from achieving a higher level of financial stability and hopefully, he can enjoy a real retirement then.

#10: Being at peace

Whether we are rich or poor, healthy or unhealthy, spiritual or unspiritual… we all have insecurities. We all worry about anything that can worry us. We wonder if there’ll be enough money, we wonder if we’ll progress in our careers, we wonder if we’ll be able to raise a family — the list of worries can be never-ending. Some of us are able to handle stress more effectively than others; some even choose not to worry about anything at all.

For the longest time, I always felt that many Christians enjoyed promoting two highly unpalatable and illogical views in responding to insecurities: in loose terms, the first is that “there is no need to worry about tomorrow”, and the second is “surrender your life to God and do not hold on to anything.” Back then, both views appeared to me as another way of saying “just give up” and things will somehow work out. How can one not worry about tomorrow when there’s no way of telling if there will still be money in the coffers, no way of telling if people around me will still be around? Surely, the worry-not aficionados have never had anything taken away from them, or been placed in a precarious situation where there’s no telling if tomorrow will come — or indeed, if tomorrow is worth waiting for. And then there was the concept of “surrender”: why should I give up everything I’ve worked so hard to own, and give up my dreams and ideals, to lead a totally indeterminate life? Why does God want me to let go of anything? Why can’t He just accept that we all need to hold to certain things in life?

Even after I became a Christian, I had some difficulty overcoming life’s anxieties. But I realised that there were some things that I had misunderstood about the aforesaid two responses. To not worry about tomorrow does not mean we simply sit back and watch the clock run down. We still do what we need to do, but we constantly believe that God will take care of us, including when bad things seem to go on for a long time. Likewise, to surrender our lives does not mean we bankrupt ourselves, sell our homes and quit our jobs. It simply means that we must readily let God’s will unfold in our lives. We must take that step of continually committing our plans to God. In the past, I wanted to make grand plans for myself and believe that on the basis of honest and hard work, many doors will be open for me. One great transformative effect of Christianity is that God makes us see abundantly clear how our own plans, no matter how watertight, can never prevail if they are not in His will. Reduced to its simplest terms, you can say that these days, I just do my best, and God will take care of the rest.

Some may ask: do we really need God to attain a sense of peace? Let me just refute this on the ground of expectations. The great promise of Christianity, amongst many other great promises, is that God will indeed take care of you. Although what precedes that is a sense of belief that such a promise is true, because we are human, we will inexorably have expectations for such a promise to be held true. So if such promises are a sham, which of us won’t have our faith greatly diminished? Certainly in my case, I have this sense of peace today exactly because I’ve seen how it is true that God will take care of me, and how His plans are always, without exception, superior to mine. Some may also ask nevertheless if Christians are just “settling”. What do I mean? For instance, if I was say, a Christian who lost a lot of money in this recent wave of financial collapses, and I continue to believe that God is out there taking care of me in His own special way, am I not just another product of “positive thinking”? On the one hand, I can simply say that I had a choice whether I wanted to invest my money, but more importantly on the other hand, how long can one hold on the false promises and remain delusional? How much suffering can one endure while holding on to God if God has demonstrated time and again that He doesn’t care, and that His ways are beyond us?

There is no end to the need for Christians to humble themselves and surrender their plans to God. I imagine it is even harder for non-believers to experiment with the notion that God will take care of you, and you must let go of your unbreakable sense of self-confidence.

#9: Parents

Every morning  when I wake up, the newspapers are all stacked nicely in a pile beside the sofa that I like to sit on. On the little table next to the sofa would be my breakfast: typically, freshly blended fruit juice and some bread. When I’m done eating, the cup and the plates would be washed, and I’ll change into my ironed working clothes. On my way out, I would pick up my bag which will contain a bottle of water, and sometimes, some snacks. If I’m leaving home late, lunch is never hard to find. When I’m at the workplace and I need a ride home, a ride is just an sms away. Day in and day out, this routine is unbroken. And this is completely attributed to my parents who continue to do all the little things for me; moreover, this is but a very small sampling of what they have done and continue to do for me in my life. Some may conclude that I am spoilt, and there is perhaps a grain of truth in that; but, I prefer to see it as all the signs of being a blessed man.

#8: Flame wars and wikipedia

Some of you will know that I am rather active on wikipedia. Well, despite its many biases against many things that I stand for (for eg, it is an eminently anti-Christian project as far as Christian-related articles are concerned), it is a valuable resource nonetheless. The defining characteristic of wikipedia is that right about anybody can edit an article, at any point in time. This brand of “power to the people” has been highly successful in forming arguably the most important website on the internet today, and as an active contributor to wikipedia, I often encounter editors who are simply unreasonable. When you refute their arguments, they will refuse to concede and instead, they cyber-stalk you and things can become quite painful. Sometimes my response has been to retaliate harshly — name-calling, for instance.  Making veiled threats, for another. That phase — of me resorting to measures that can get me banned for days or even weeks — has now passed. One of the main reasons for this is on many occasions, when I was in the middle of crafting something nasty to editors whom I couldn’t see eye-to-eye with, my computer would reset on its own — meaning that my act became inchoate. This didn’t just happen with my home computer; it happened as well with my office computer, and even my mobile phone. To my mind, somebody somewhere has put a hand in and stopped me from getting into trouble…

#7: Good to be alive

I discovered that I have two conditions when I was 19 and 23 respectively. The first is a couple of prolapsed discs (the L5/S1 is confirmed). The second is mitral valve prolapse (“MVP”).

The prolapsed disc was sustained when I was serving my national service. Jumps off the SOC ramp, coupled with carrying 25kg field packs during long route marches were probably the main causes. I’ve carried this disability now for almost 10 years and it still inconveniences me from time to time. I can’t sit down for more than half an hour without pain creeping into my lower back; sit down for too long and I lose all sensation in both my thighs. Needless to say, I’m not supposed to carry any heavy things either.

I discovered my MVP condition after a bout of hyperventilation upon my return to Singapore from exchange. The B-echo scan was extremely painful (even though I think it’s not supposed to be), and I had no idea what in the world MVP was when the doctor informed me of the condition. Having MVP basically means that sometimes the blood doesn’t flow that well around the heart. The result is a constant sense of fatigue, and occasional blackouts and chest pains. My specialist told me that I can still lead a normal life (but avoid high adrenaline activities), although he also mentioned that 95% of people who die from heart diseases die from MVP complications.

I can think of two things to be said about my conditions. The first is that much as I’ll prefer not to have any medical conditions, these conditions are comparatively managable. The second is I am thankful that despite having these conditions, I’ve been able to lead a largely normal life — doing competitive sports, for instance. Some of you may ask, if God truly loves you, why does He not just heal you or better still, why did He not just create you with no physical weaknesses?

My answer to that is life on earth is as such. It is transient, and it is also governed by the laws of science (thus, slipped discs are a natural consequence of wear and tear). I do believe that God can heal us. Some say it is a matter of faith; some say it is a matter of asking. Either way, God can heal us, and even if we are not healed, I still think that it’s okay. Because what we make of what happens on earth is still only a tiny fraction of all the things that can be understood, we are a long way from understanding how and why God does things. We have some idea, but nothing close to the full idea. I start from the basis of “God loves me”. From that basis, if I am unwell, I am thankful that I am not as unwell as it could have been and indeed, there may even be some purpose for my physical inadequacies; if I am well, I am thankful that I am not unwell. Our response to God should not be based on how much human, tangible goodies we receive, for we are measured by how much our heart is willing to do what we can in spite of obstacles in our way.

#6: Baptism

Many Christians who have been raised in non-Christian families can identify with one particular quirk of parents: you can go to church; you can take part in church activities; you can marry in church; you can give money to the church… but you cannot get baptised. The mere mentioning of the idea will be met with severe parental rebuke and lamentation. To some of them, baptism is seen as some sort of consummating the “brainwashing” process (by the church), and/or a signalling of the completion of the divorce from you and your parents and the marriage of you and your church.

My mother had the same notions mentioned above about baptism. Even in the early days when I was “exploring” Christianity by attending church services regularly, she said that I can go to church all I want, but please don’t ever say that I want to get baptised. Years passed, I became a Christian, life in the family was improving, but she held on to those notions. Attempts to explain the significance and purpose of baptism were truly futile. I faced constant pressure from various parties to get baptised for years, and all I could say to them was that it would happen one day. I’m not sure if they ever believed me; all I kept saying was that one day, my mother’s heart would soften, and when that time comes, I would do it. Simply,  if I cannot convince her, God will soften her heart eventually. It may not always be obvious, but when one becomes a Christian, one is put under scrutiny everyday. So I knew that with time, my mother will be convinced in her heart that Christianity has only done good for me and my family. As it were, on 28 June 2009, before my parents and a group of friends, I was finally baptised. And my mother was completely supportive of it. Sometimes, we do have to be patient about things…

#5: Crossing paths

When I first met X some time ago, I thought that this person had a really bad attitude and wanted to say something about it. Then again, as far as first-time-meetings with almost all my good friends go, I never had a good first impression of any of them. I suppose it’s like a hidden connection that simply doesn’t reveal itself until later, and in its initial form it manifests as resistance. Anyway, the main moral of this story about X is the incredible timing in which our paths crossed. The “attitude” about X was probably attributable to a very troubled and resentful countenance. In other words, I knew straightaway that X had some very big unresolved issues, and was only putting on a facade to ward off people. I knew because I’d seen too many similar cases before.

Because I respect X’s privacy a lot, this post will be somewhat cryptic in many parts. The bottom line is that something deep down spoke to me about X. I figured X was probably a Christian — and a backsliden one (with practice, they become easily identifiable). As my conversations with X grew, I learnt more about the situation in X’s life. X used to do really good things in church, but as life went on, free time came at a premium and the commitment to church took a backseat. It didn’t help that there were also personal issues that X had trouble overcoming. X went on to do a few silly things here and there, perhaps out of frustration, yet X was always keenly aware that the rot had to stop.  Indeed, awareness of wrongdoing is ever imperative; once one has reached complete and utter denial, the aperture of hope diminishes greatly.

Without putting too fine a point on it, I gave X some advice — ie, to just stop the nonsense and look to God once again. One thing I think that spoke to X is that it wasn’t a coincidence that our paths crossed; it wasn’t a coincidence that X had the courage to talk; and it wasn’t a coincidence that something made me communicate extensively with this person. Perhaps I should have stated this at the start of this post: up till the point where I actually began talking to X, we were complete strangers, and under the normal run of things, that would have remained the case. So, after a long period of prayer and reflection, X seems to have returned to the straight and narrow. I cannot guarantee and I do not know if X can stay that way forever. That is not for me to decide. One thing is for sure, however. We truly can do all things through Christ, and we must always build our lives along the lines that God has created for us.

[Edit: this anecdote actually largely mirrors my encounter with another friend (let's call this friend Y). Y was having some major personal issues, and the spiritual walk greatly affected. The most bizarre collision of circumstances got us talking about this, and well, after months and months of talking and reflection, I believe Y has re-found the peace.]

#4: Money and giving

Christianity is full of paradoxes. One of which is if you keep giving, you will be given more in return (monetarily or otherwise). Logically, this is hardly guaranteed; empirically, the result yielded is the same. Because of the personal circumstances in the earlier part of my life, giving didn’t always come naturally — money hoarding seemed the more sensible thing to do. When I started working, however, I found out that giving was not only very satisfying, but whatever I had given, I was given more in return. For instance, almost 2/3 of my salary in my first year of work was committed to expenses not directly related to myself. Yet, new and unexpected streams of revenue would emerge. I am bound by confidentiality clauses to elaborate in any sort of meaningful way, but suffice to say that financial miracles kept emerging even though my own view is that I don’t deserve them. Since I’m given them, I hope that I will be a good steward.

#3: Nick Vujicic and the genesis of this blog

I’d actually wanted to create this blog a long time ago (about a year), especially since I kept telling myself, oh no, here goes another opportunity for me to share this story and that. By the time I found the impetus to, doubt plagued my mind as to whether this project was viable. There were a variety of concerns. I was about to pull the plug (even before I had began!), when my dad forwarded me this clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TtweZxNGk1Y&feature=related — it reminded me so much of how in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Zhuge Liang advised Zhou Yu that he had to speak to Sun Quan one more time to remove him of all doubts about the Shu-Wu alliance — and my doubt was laid to rest.

Some of you may have heard about Vujicic before; he sure is an amazing inspiration, regardless of whether we profess a religion. This clip spoke to me because it reminded me as to how Christians should never be afraid to share their faith with everyone else: it is the basic calling of every Christian. Why is this story of me being passed the clip worthy of an entry though? Two simple reasons. First, it couldn’t have come at a better timing. And second, my dad isn’t a Christian and he doesn’t exactly surf youtube on a daily basis trawling for Christian material for me. So there you have it.

#2: London, 2007

I was privileged to be chosen to do an international clerkship with a London firm. Thankfully, my colleague was kind enough to allow me to hitch a ride from her — from Heathrow to my London residence — because my residence was located half a mile from the nearest tube station. It would have been a real challenge to lug along two large pieces of luggage in the heavy rain, at midnight, in a country I’ve never been before, to a rather obscure neighbourhood. However, upon reaching my place, I realised that the keycard I was given could not open the main door to the block of apartments. I called the firm, but because it was midnight, they said that they could only get a new keycard from the landlord the next morning. It seemed also that there was no one else residing in the block (or at least they were not in), given that my attempts to buzz the other households were not met with any response. Just when I was about to give up, along came a couple who lived in the block, and quite kindly, they let me into the block. I managed to open my apartment door with my key, and slept with a grateful heart.

#1: The journey

Consider the following:

1. My GCE A level results were nothing to crow about (though not for want of hard work). In fact, they barely met the minimum requirements set by the law school.
2. I was rejected by the law school, twice. But for the fact that I was asked to try (and try) again, I would never have ended up in law school.
3. Because of my far from stellar GCE A level results, I did not have high expectations, academically that is, for myself in law school.
4. I had thought that I might find a girlfriend during law school but saw no suitable candidates during orientation.
5. I was roped in to take part in an orientation dance item (only about 20 students were chosen for the item) and was given the chance to pair up with a girl. I declined the chance and withdrew from the item.
6. This same girl was assigned to all four of my tutorial groups in year 1. We worked on one project together.
7. My expectations notwithstanding, I worked really hard, and got onto the Dean’s List in year 1 – this was a list of the top 10% of the students in my class at the law school.
8. I don’t know how hard the girl from my tutorial group worked, but she topped the class that year.
9. I spent year 2 chasing her and eventually she agreed to be my girlfriend. I don’t know if it was a result of the rather protracted courtship, but our results suffered. Still, we did enough to remain on the Dean’s List in year 2, despite both of us having truly below average first terms.
10. I thought that the student exchange program would be an excellent opportunity for both of us to develop our relationship further. We both separately decided on applying to the same exchange university and we were both accepted to that same university. To put things in perspective, there were 5 spots available for this university, and every year there are about 100 applications for some 20+ universities available.
11. When we returned from exchange, we were selected to be in the same moot team. This was by all accounts statistically difficult: every year, about 30 students are accepted from a large pool of applicants into the moot program of which 20+ are placed in about six different moot teams.
12. Because of our participation in the moots and the heavy time commitment that required, we were unsure if we could continue to do well enough overall to be on the Dean’s List in year 4 and attain first class honours (top 5% of the cohort). We both did well enough to achieve the target.
13. We both applied for a clerkship position at the supreme court and were accepted. We were thus able to work in the same place for the next two years. Our relationship benefitted in so many ways as a result.
14. As I wanted to become an academic, it was essential for me to obtain an LL.M. I wanted my girlfriend to be able to come do the LL.M. with me. We had limited work experience, and the odds of us finding full sponsorship were very slim. We also aimed to go to the same prestigious US college, which we knew accepted only a small percentage of applicants. Eventually, we succeeded on both counts – funding and admission.

You may see all this entire series of  events as a simple combination of luck and hard work, but to me, everything has truly been by the grace of God (which is not to say I’ve arrived anywhere). I’m not discrediting the contributions of other factors either: our family support; the generosity of our sponsoring institutions; encouragement from friends; and the fact that we had worked hard. But life has always taught me that when God closes a door, God closes a door. And the converse is true. I admit that I did not always actively seek the will of God but I do know that I had surrendered my life’s plans to Him. All that was left for me to do was to just work hard and accept that God will take care of me, on his own terms. Sure, I would set certain targets, but at every turn, God’s plans always trumped mine. A simple example: when I couldn’t get a part-time teaching job to increase my chances of becoming an academic, I was later on given a bumper crop of opportunities, precisely at the point when my full-time work commitments became much less intense. Another one: an article I had co-written was constantly being bounced from one law journal to another, much to my disappointment. I’ve never been that receptive to criticism, but each time the referee rejected the piece I realised that I could do a number of things to make the article even better. And the list goes on, really. Ultimately, you will have to decide if I am simply being an optimist, or I have learned and accepted that there is a greater purpose to every event in my life.

#0: The how and the why

I became a Christian on 20 December 2004. I was already in my 20s by then. Up till that point, I had spent 14 years in Christian schools but none of things that were said in chapel and what not ever really resonated with me. I was at best, neutral towards religion and for the most part, resentful of Christians (and God). Every middle class family had its fair share of woes and worries to overcome and mine was no exception. The result was that whenever I thought about God, I thought of only two things: if God exists, He didn’t care about my situation; and/or if such an uncaring God exists, I’ll be better off without Him. It didn’t help that there were always plenty of occasions where I could point out how badly my Christian friends behaved. In other words, I had spent the larger part of my life asking the very same question a non-believer would to Christians: why should I believe, especially in view of all the bad things that can be said about Christians (hypocritical; self-serving; delusional; unaccepting etc.)?

This blog, or whatever you wish to call it, serves as an attempt to provide a certain viewpoint in answering the first part of the preceding question.  Specifically, it focuses on resolving the ever important evidentiary (and accordingly, logical — yes I do NOT believe that Chrisitanity is built on the shoulders of blind faith) conundrum: are the things happening in my life attributable to the hand of God, or to the hand of coincidence (or my own creation)? The reason why this miracle-coincidence dichotomy is adopted as the orientation for this blog is heavily borne out of my recent experiences and interaction with both Christians and non-Christians. I have a whole truckload of anecdotes and testimonies to share with people, some of which are quite clearly to my mind, entering the realm of the supernatural; others, more easily dismissable as nothing extraordinary (and therefore not divine). I think most of the people whom I share with (usually my colleagues and students) believe me to be a credible person when it comes to testimony, yet they are always at least a little skeptical as to whether the miracles in my life are really divine intervention or just mere coincidences. I then realised that if I could demonstrate a certain consistency and regularity to my testimonies, things might become clearer — and perhaps, more convincing. So this blog will be my attempt at chronicling, as often and as accurately as possible, what I perceive and believe to be God’s hand operating in my life. The reader will then draw his own conclusions as to the events in my life: coincidence, or something else (or worse, am I simply gravitating towards a self-fulfilling prophecy of reconciling every coincidence as the work of God)?

Necessarily, the reader needs to overcome several preconceptions for the utility of this blog to be better realised.

First, this blog is concerned with the question of evidence. Evidence not as understood as precisely as in the scientific or even legal sense, but evidence in a logical sense nonetheless (albeit evidence emanating mostly from a singular source). This blog is not that focused on addressing the other reasons why non-believers reject Christianity (eg, “Christianity is too divided”, “Christianity is predicated on an outdated moral code”), though it may enter that periphery from time to time. Why the focus on evidence? Because I view it as key to answering the most fundamental and important question that needs to be asked from the outset. That is, we need to first satisfy ourselves that some manner of god exists. By definition, a god has to be an entity that has real sovereignty over our lives. Such a god can create and eliminate us with ease; the corollary then is that such a god can influence the events in our lives (whether he or she does is a separate question). Only when we’ve passed this threshold can we proceed to the next enquiry: so which God is real? If we are never convinced that some god exists, it is pointless to ask further theological questions. As a matter of clarification, I’m not saying that my anecdotes will form the complete evidential basis for persuasion. Naturally, the reader is invited to draw upon other sources of evidence as well (eg, the Bible; the testimonies of others; whatever that can be observed in church).

The second preconception that the reader needs to overcome is that while I am committed to my faith, am extremely proud of it, and will speak extensively on it, I’m not in the business of forceful persuasion. If you don’t believe me, that is your prerogative and indeed your right. The fact that I have opened a channel for communication means that dialogue must take place. And dialogue always involves questions, and more questions. However, I do ask you to keep an open mind at all times. Come to the table with equitable terms. That I’m a Christian invariably translates to me believing my God is the real God. If you think that this premise is already abhorrent, then we are dealing with extreme cross-purposes and it’ll be hard to find a way forward. To be sure, I’m not interested in commenting on other religions, for I simply have no standing to be sharing about them. But if all you’re interested in is banging home the point that Christianity, by virtue of its monotheism, is bigotry epitomised, this is the wrong place to debate it.

The third (much as it flows from the first) preconception is that this blog is only committed to talking about the “good things” in life — blessings, aversions of danger, etc — and ignores other questions like “why does God allow suffering in the world?” Well, you have to take it from me that I don’t regard God — in the words of an influential former teacher of mine — simply as some kind of Santa Claus. It will be dishonest for me to say that I hate to be blessed, yet it will also be honest of me to state quite categorically that I accept all suffering in my own life and that I have my own views as to why suffering is “permitted” by God, and these I will be happy to discuss from time to time. To reiterate though, these views will not form the focal point of this blog.

With that, I hope you check back regularly, and enjoy reading the stories. I will never be mistaken for one of those super fervent Christians (and I don’t mean this in a derogatory sense), but I truly am always open to discussion, and will always be more than happy praying for those in need — believer or otherwise.