To My Friend Who Hurts For Me

Dear friend who asked me why I forgive and how I carry on - I can't explain. Maybe you will hear the answer here... Thank you for calling. Thank you for caring. I owe you.

Pre-departure

Today, finally, I completed the tedious process of filling in the forms I need to submit for my impending trip to the US. There still remains the step of scanning and emailing them, but at least the bulk of the work is done and the medical check up is complete.

The medical check up was the most tedious of the processes. In the time it took for me to get my medical history checked and the vaccinations and tests done, I could have flown from Singapore to Melbourne - or Tokyo! 

I would have been in a much worse temper if I had not been so entertained by the staff at this clinic :) There was the nurse who begged me, "Don't scold me ah" before she thrust a needle into my arm; the receptionist who misspelt my name, then corrected it and forgot to save the correction and proceeded to print appointment slips out for me 5 times before she realised why my name continued to be misspelt; and my favourite - the doctor who urged me "Try to remember the exact date of your polio vaccination" and gazed at me hopefully despite me telling him that I was one year old when I was vaccinated.

I'm glad it is done though. I pick up the results on Fri and send off the forms. The first pre-departure wheel has been set in motion!

Grief

I'm feeling quite shaken and saddened by the news that a good friend of mine was murdered last Sunday by her son. She was just a year older than me and we were in the same cell group in church. MJ had a hard life to say the least. She married early and it was a marriage filled with abuse and violence until she plucked up the courage to leave. She even gave away her youngest child for adoption because she couldn't bring herself to abort him like her husband wanted her to. MJ also was dogged by poor health and struggled financially. Yet her faith in God was strong and no matter how hard life was for her, she never doubted the goodness of God.

At the wake yesterday, I was struck by how her children had grown and it brought a fresh realisation of just how many years had lapsed. We were a group of 4 women in that cell group 3 decades ago and I've not been in another cell group since where we shared our lives with such intimacy and trust. We had been led by an American missionary, but when she left, we struggled to keep going. Eventually I moved and lost touch with them. I'm grateful that MJ's sister and another of my friends from that cell had taken the trouble to track me down. I had not read the papers in a week and had not seen the report of the murder nor the obituary. I'm thankful I had a chance to pay my last respects and to grieve. 

Many times when I had been overwhelmed by my life struggles, I had thought of MJ. My troubles pale beside hers and I know of no other woman who has been as strong as her. Many times I have heard MJ say she wishes she could go Home. She finally has.

Back Home

Does anyone still read this blog I wonder. I knew it has been a while since I last wrote but I surprised myself when I realised that I hadn't written in a month!

It has been a tough two months. The renovations are finally done and we are back home. Most of the boxes have been unpacked and the new smell of paint and varnish is slowly dissipating. It feels like home but doesn't look like home - and that feeling takes some getting used to. We have had to make do without a sofa for a week - it finally arrived this evening - and we are still without a dining table and study tables in the girls' rooms. The project gulped down more than I had budgetted and I feel a pang of anxiety every time I look at my bank account. 

In many ways the house has turned out as I had imagined it. I promised myself two luxuries - a rain shower and a reading nook. I managed to get the first one fixed but the second wish will have to wait till other necessities (such as the above-mentioned dining table) are in place. Some things have turned out to be heartaches. My interior designer seems to fail in getting accurate measurements done. That seems a little like saying my tailor seems to fail in cutting in a straight line, but that has indeed been a repeated failure. As a result, the microwave oven doesn't quite sit snugly in its shelf, the vanity counter he made for my bathroom was too big and we had to move it to the kitchen instead, but worst of all, I can't open my wardrobe doors because he didn't get the measurement of my bed right :) He also built a platform I asked for a bit too high and as a result I have to fix window grilles lest someone falls out of the windows that have now become dangerously low. Sigh.

So my renovation saga isn't over. There are still things to fix and furniture to buy; cartons to be unpacked and clothes to be put away. But it feels good to be home.

In Christ Alone

I am loved by God. He met me when I was dispirited yesterday and reminded me that His eye is on me. And my heart is full today, remembering how He uplifted me through the worship songs at the Saturday Evening Service and chided me through Joshua's sermon.

Joshua preached on Matt 14:22-33.  It was a sermon that met a deep need in me for reassurance and comfort. Using the story of faltering Peter, Joshua outlined how we could have faith - (i) Recognise His voice and ability; (ii) Risk in response to His call; (iii) Retain my focus on Him; (iv) Rely on His rescuing hand.

And God reminded me that like Peter I had taken my eyes off God and was looking at the wind and waves of renovation costs and aching knee. He reminded me that when His eye is even on the sparrow, would He take His eye off me, His beloved one, created in His image and ransomed with the blood of His Son? He asked me, can not the One who enabled ordinary men to feed 5000, enable me to pay bills? Surely the One who enabled Peter to walk on water, can heal my knee? And Jesus chided me, "Dear child of little faith, why do you doubt?"

So I trust.

"In every victory, let it be said of me
My source of strength,
My source of hope
Is Christ alone."

Hard Pressed

Is there a word to describe to describe  a mixed feeling of trepidation, anxiety and sadness? That's where I am now. The renovation costs are mounting and I realise I had a pathetically naive estimation of costs when I started. The costs have gone way past my budget and I have dug deep into my meagre savings. My flat has become a hard-to-please monster and the performance bonus that made me so happy a month ago has vanished in its deep belly.  And still the work is not done. With every stage of the renovation, new problems seem to surface and yes, I regret having started this project. 

Dragging my spirits further, I have developed pain in my right knee. It is the dreaded osteoarthritis and ligament damage as well. I have spent the last week going first to a GP, then an orthopaedic surgeon in NUH (never again will I see him!) and yesterday a pain management specialist. I had a session of radio-frequency therapy and physiotherapy and am now sitting in bed with my knee taped. I have been told to rest and come back for another session on Monday.

I am feeling overwhelmed. Every day there are decisions to make for the renovation - do I want the light switches relocated? Do I want the window handles replaced? Where do I want the heater to be placed? What are the dimensions of my oven? my fridge? my microwave? Then of course there is work and with my recent promotion I know I am expected to seek out new responsibilities or initiate new ideas. No one makes allowances for personal life crises to affect professional work. The higher up you move, the more you are expected to be able to maintain an even keel. But I am not wired like that. My life flows over. 

When I was feeling particularly overwhelmed last night, I read in The New Paper about a 78 year old woman with bad knees, who has no job and has 6 sons in prison. She eats one meal a day and walks with the aid of an umbrella. And I was reminded that I am still blessed. I have a God to turn to - Jehovah Jireh, my Provider who has always given me enough; and Jehovah Rapha, my Healer, who surely will see me through. But it is a challenge to choose to rejoice in the Lord and trust Him. My pain and the rising bills seem more real than God right now.

Strange Me

Come tomorrow, we would have been in our rented flat for 2 weeks already! I still am not familiar with the neighbourhood and have told myself that this weekend, I must make an effort to walk around.

I have adjusted in some ways and yet to adjust in other ways. I still find the flat too small and there are other things that irk me - the shower is a trickle, my bed is flat against the wall and I don't like climbing over the bed to get into it, there is no place to hang the laundry and it sits propped up on bamboo poles in the middle of the kitchen.

What has surprised me, however, is how I have grown to like my long morning commute! It takes me an hour to get from the flat to my workplace, but I am invariably able to get a seat on the bus, and I have time to think. It is a pleasant journey as the bus meanders through Kallang, Beach Road, Shenton Way and past Vivo City till it arrives at Alexandra Road. I find it a soothing, reflective start to my day. I read my Bible on my iPad, I meditate (I confess I once fell asleep), I pray, I think about my work and generally arrive at work in a benign mood. I realised this only today, when I got a ride to work. You see, I had to have a conversation! That was it! I couldn't be myself with my own thoughts. And I arrived at work snappy and edgy.

How strange I am. I wonder if I will become an eccentric old lady, living alone with the curtains drawn and the door padlocked. Maybe I will shout at people who knock on my door and have no friends. What a terrifying thought :)

Fraying

I am very saddened by the latest scandal in Singapore. More than 44 men arrested for having paid sex with an under-aged girl. It has made me startlingly aware that you can never know the true nature of a human being by his public persona. The Bible says only God knows what is the true sum of each man and this saga has affirmed the truth of this. Three of these men are men I have seen in their very public arenas; 2 of them educators. And even now, when their guilt has become apparent, I find it hard to believe that they would have descended to this level. It is a shock every time I see their faces in the newspapers.

My heart aches especially for their wives and children. How much they must hurt, how betrayed they must feel, how much shame in having their family lives put under public scrutiny. And I feel deep anger - at these men who are successful in the eyes of the world, blessed with opportunities far beyond the reach of the average man, yet unable to live a life of simple integrity and dignity. I feel anger at the young girl, destroying her life and the lives of others, for the sake of money. And the mastermind behind it all, preying on the weaknesses of greed and lust.

I feel as if there are suddenly many cracks showing. Such scandals used to be few and far between and teachers were rarely in the news for such scandals. My friend says there always were such goings-on but that because of the internet it is harder to hide these days. Maybe she is right. But I also wonder, has the calibre of our teachers changed? Has the moral fibre weakened? I don't know. But my heart aches for the innocent victims - the wives, the children, the students who once looked up to these men. I wish I could do something or speak some words of comfort to them. But I can't, so I pray.

Sometimes I Think I'm in a Sitcom

I spoke too soon. Last night, I felt things had settled and in smooth gear. This morning, as I was preparing to leave for office, I turned on the washing machine. 20 minutes later when I went to wash my coffee cup, I realised to my horror that I had not checked if the outlet hose had been placed in the draining pipe and that a pool of dirty water was quietly collecting on the kitchen floor! As I hurried to find towels to mop the mess up, the inlet hose fixed to the tap gave way and water started spraying every which way! It looked like a scene out of a sitcom but there was no laugh track.  Result: a pile of wet laundry left in the machine, soggy towels left in a heap on the window sill, a slippery soapy floor that I hope neither J nor C slip on, and a disgruntled snappy Vara who was half an hour late for work today. Sigh. Worse than being angry with someone is being angry with your own stupidity :)

Displaced

I don't quite know where the last two weeks went. Since I last blogged, C came, we packed and moved and unpacked and finally I have internet access again. All because I decided to embark on renovation of my flat. 

We moved into our flat in 1998, when R was 8 and J was 12. They have long outgrown their rooms and no longer love the purple, yellow and green hues of their rooms :) The cupboards have been bulging and as I climbed in and out of it daily, I had begun to deeply regret the bathtub I had installed when I was a sprightly 40 year old ;) So the decision was made. 

Almost every evening for the past few weeks we have been de-cluttering the flat and I marvel at just how much I had accumulated over 14 years! Because the renovations will be extensive, we have had to move out into a temporary rental flat which is across the island in Aljunied. The flat is tiny compared to ours and I obsessed many nights over whether our stuff would even fit into the flat. 

Moving day (on Sat) was stressful but my part-time helper Jona was a wizard who came on Sun morning with her friend and set the whole place in order in a matter of hours! I missed Easter service which made me very sad, but there was so much to be done to make the flat livable.

So it has been 3 days since we moved in now and we have all established a delicate ecosystem of living. C has been such a blessing, pitching in to help unhesitatingly, and invariably cheerful no matter how trying the situation! It has been an eventful few weeks; we are in a neighbourhood I have never even visited, learning new routes to work, figuring out where the shops are. In a way, C and all of us are on even ground; we are all learning about this new place. Much as I regretted it on Sat, come Tues I am beginning to think things aren't too bad!