Mission Station: Singapore

My sister and I were talking on the phone today - I don't go visit her as often as I should - and she was reminiscing about her career as a teacher. We both agreed that the best part of teaching really was when old students remember you fondly. It is that which makes you feel your work has been worthwhile, that it is more than a paycheck.

Some of my students have stuck. They talk to me about their dates, their marriage plans, their children... And it is a privilege to continue to be part of their lives. Last week, a bunch of students I taught in 1996/7 met for dinner, got to reminiscing and my name came up. And they called me to give me two hours' notice before they turned up at my doorstep at 10pm with chocolate ice cream, a wife and a toddler and hearts full of memories. An evening like that makes me feel I am blessed.

Increasingly, however, I have been feeling a sense of dis-ease at the number of young teachers who leave the profession. It is a tricky situation for me as many of these teachers leave for what should be considered a noble purpose - to serve as missionaries in far flung countries. Yet, every time one more young person says he / she is resigning, I am disappointed. The question that screams in my head is - "Who will stay?"

What is it that appeals about teaching English / Maths / IT skills in a remote Asian village with the chance to share the gospel ? That those children might not hear the gospel? Neither will many children in our schools. That the government in these countries forbids proselytising and therefore the endeavour seems exciting and dangerous? That's not very different from the local situation. What would working in these rural areas for 5 months achieve that teaching day after day, connecting and getting to know one's students cannot?

I wonder how much of the desires of these young people is for escape from the mundane rather than a call to the wild. The poor are here in Singapore too. The ones who struggle to read and count are here too. The ones from broken homes are here too. Wouldn't the chances of the gospel being understood higher where the children speak the language, are able to read the bible and ask questions? Yet, young teacher after teacher wants to go to China or Tibet or Timore Leste or Laos or Africa to teach children who are struggling with the alphabet while children who can read are left safe in their comfortable Singapore homes with other teachers who have no interest in their souls.

The young teachers tell me they hear a call to go. I pray and wonder - doesn't anyone hear the call to stay?

Sleepless in Singapore

In all fairness I must say I am sauntering through menopause with far more ease than a number of women I know. So my daughters, you might not have it too bad either.

I've managed to keep the weight gain somewhat at bay, the mood swings haven't been drastic and the weepy phase coincided with a tough time so I didn't quite know for sure whether I was menopausal-depressive or just sad :) Thankfully, there have been no drenching hot flashes either and all that happens is that the tips of my ears turn red and feel so warm I am sometimes concerned they might glow. The days when I made silly mistakes and felt disoriented used to disturb me, until I read 'Hot Flashes From Heaven', the comforting book J bought me. Since then I have learnt to just tell people around me that "I'm having a Brain Fog Day" and then just live with the wool in the brain for that day :)

The one effect that has finally gotten me is the insomnia. I don't have a problem falling asleep, but I can't stay asleep. I wake up in the wee hours of the morning and then can't fall back asleep.

I began the battle by stopping coffee and tea after lunch. And yes, I do exercise. Then I tried a number of pillows and now I have 1 water pillow, 3 neck support pillows and still will the clock hands to move at night. I have done the warm-bath-before-bed thing, the milk-before-bed-thing and the deep-breathing-while-thinking-pleasant-thoughts thing.

Apparently there are some saintly women who take this sleeplessness in their stride and are glad for the hours of sleeplessness and use these extra hours to read and pray. I am not one of them.

Finally it was time to see a doctor and he gave me a magic blue pill which was the best invention of man ever! I had great sleep and my family (and friends I travelled with) had great fun because I would fall asleep suddenly in the middle of various tasks (reading a book, sms-ing), sitting down, and had to be put to bed by the kind souls around me. But the supply ran out and M said that the wonderful blue pill would cause memory loss - so that ended 10 nights of blissful sleep.

For the past week, I have been sleepless, bordering on depression, grouchy and rudely yawning through meetings, workshops and dinners with friends.

But things are looking more promising. I have had a number of  people offer me remedies - two friends pray for me (especially Jeremiah 31:25!) one friend brought me herbal tea, one colleague skyped his mother in Canada to ask for remedies to my sleeplessness (valarian root!), my ex-boss brought me his wife's natural sleep pills (hahahahaha) and my niece made her doc friend prescribe me medication :)

So I feel hopeful. I have new options to try! Maybe, I shall sleep again!  

My Sketchpad

You know how we talk about choosing to view the glass as half empty or half full? My natural tendency is towards the former. But I have over the years learnt to recognise this in myself and after the initial hand-wringing and doomsday prognosis to make myself explore what a more positive outlook could be. This is a habit of mind that I struggle with a great deal. I tend towards whinging, complaining and "I-told-you-so"s. I know my daughters will happily concur :) 

So this year appears to me, so far, to be one of those not-so-good years. R's friend, P, has a theory that years that end in prime numbers are better years - I have been thinking over my past years ever since she made that pronouncement :)

The main reason that makes me feel this way is my empty planner. I have events and meetings lined up for Jan and Feb, and then zilch. Those empty months trouble me. It is as if this year will come and go and I will have nothing to say for 2012. I will not have a significant event that will help me recall, "That was the year when I ..." Then I remember 2010 was like this and I think to myself maybe P is on to something :)

But now the wiser Vara is in attendance. And I remember that if 2010 was empty at the beginning of the year, there was a reason for it and the emptiness gave me space to deal with the curve ball that was thrown at me. And I remember that I learnt the value of unplanned time and spontaneity during my trip to Melbourne in Sept 2011. 

So, I choose to say - 2012 looks to be a year of promise. It is a sketchpad with the picture already drawn in invisible ink. And my Father will colour it in, one page at a time. Maybe it will be a page-turner of a year. Maybe it will have some blank pages. Maybe sometimes I will colour outside the lines instead of waiting for God. Maybe there will be ink blots.

We will just have to wait and see, won't we? :)

My Watched-over Life

2012 has begun and we are already 10 days into the new year. I have not done my usual reflection of the past year and resolutions for the new year. It is a ritual that soothes me and gives me a semblance of control - sometimes I connect dots, sometimes perspectives shift, and almost always I am able to give thanks.

As I prayed on the eve of this new year, however, I was drawn to Psalm 121:

"I lift my eyes up to the hills -

Where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip - 

he who watches over you will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel

will neither slumber or sleep.

The Lord watches over you - 

the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day

nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all harm -

he will watch over your life;

the Lord will watch over your coming and going

both now and forevermore."

And I am comforted by the phrase "the Lord watches over you".

I have read this psalm many times, especially when I travel, for I am comforted by the promise that God watches over my "coming and going". But somehow the declaration that God watches over my life struck me with a new excitement this new year's eve. That the God who is the creator of earth and heaven watches over my life assures me - that the dots will be connected; that there is a plan despite the haphazardness of my life; that despite my wilfulness, pettiness, fears and mistakes, my life, in the end, will not be a sorry tale. It will be a blessed 2012; as it was a blessed 2011.