我很希望我能实现我的梦想.

and after seeing my post uploaded, I just noticed the previous post with the band-aid poster.

thank God=)

You are my Healer indeed.

and I pray with all my heart that You will be the Healer of all the people I know who need healing. Father, be with them and let them know You will always be there with them. Heal them Lord, be all that they need.

the dark red circles seemed to make the floor a piece of art. I could almost imagine the splatter of red ink across the blank, white canvas. random spots which decorate the parchment. in any case, it didn't feel morbid staring down at the floor.

well. it was the pain which got me going. haha. you must be wondering what happened. I cut my left finger while throwing out the trash. a sharp edge of the tin can. it happened in a split second, and I didn't realise it until I saw the blood dripping frantically onto the kitchen floor. I don't think I have ever seen that much blood before. It was like the blood just couldn't stop flowing from my finger and tissue upon tissue was soaked. okay, parts of the tissues were soaked, not entirely.

and for a while there, I felt like I wanted to cry.

my parents told me to go to the doctor and I did. I went on auto-pilot, and didn't even realise I was already at the clinic. the treatment was bearable, but I was reminded of the smell at jurong east station. the smell of medicine, and the particular smell of clinics.

and I guess it didn't hit me until I paid for the bill and realised it came up to 46 bucks. and to tell you the truth, I was quite upset. I went back home and started rambling to God how exorbitant it was to treat the cut. I mean I know it is quite deep but 46?? and I guess the helplessness I felt earlier just transformed into the upset feelings. I just didn't understand some things.

and there was this moment in the clinic where I was getting treated for the cut, I just prayed so fervently that nothing like this would ever happen to grace, lea and georgie. I don't know why, I guess I just wanted God to protect them more now that we can't really be there for them physically. silly really. I mean I know God will still protect them.

oh well. anyway, shall not dwell on it! haha. I'm fine people!=)

alright, I promise the next post will be happier!;)

He wants to comfort you~

My child’s feelings are hurt. I tell her she’s special. My child is injured. I do whatever it takes to make her feel better.

My child is afraid. I won’t go to sleep until she is secure.

I’m not a hero. I’m not a superstar. I’m not unusual. I’m a parent. When a child hurts, a parent does what comes naturally. He helps.

And after I help, I don’t charge a fee. I don’t ask for a favor in return. When my child cries, I don’t tell her to buck up, act tough, and keep a stiff upper lip. Nor do I consult a list and ask her why she is still scraping the same elbow or waking me up again.

I’m not a prophet, nor the son of one, but something tells me that in the whole scheme of things the tender moments described above are infinitely more valuable than anything I do in front of a computer screen or congregation. Something tells me that the moments of comfort I give my child are a small price to pay for the joy of someday seeing my daughter do for her daughter what her dad did for her.

Moments of comfort from a parent. As a father, I can tell you they are the sweetest moments in my day. They come naturally. They come willingly. They come joyfully.

If all of that is true, if I know that one of the privileges of fatherhood is to comfort a child, then why am I so reluctant to let my heavenly Father comfort me?

Why do I think he wouldn’t want to hear about my problems? (“They are puny compared to people starving in India.”)

Why do I think he is too busy for me? (“He’s got a whole universe to worry about.”)

Why do I think he’s tired of hearing the same old stuff?

Why do I think he groans when he sees me coming?

Why do I think he consults his list when I ask for forgiveness and asks, “Don’t you think you’re going to the well a few too many times on this one?”

Why do I think I have to speak a holy language around him that I don’t speak with anyone else?

Why do I not take him seriously when he questions, “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11)

Why don’t I let my Father do for me what I am more than willing to do for my own children?

I’m learning, though. Being a parent is better than a course on theology. Being a father is teaching me that when I am criticized, injured, or afraid, there is a Father who is ready to comfort me. There is a Father who will hold me until I’m better, help me until I can live with the hurt, and who won’t go to sleep when I’m afraid of waking up and seeing the dark.

Ever. And that’s enough.


From Max Lucado,
The Applause of Heaven
© (Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1999) Max Lucado


=D. I felt this rush of love for my Lord after reading this. and I went like, "Awww..God, You are so good to me". And I was reminded of this challenge from a pastor, do I dare believe that not only is God good all the time, but that God is good all the time to me.

and yes, I do want to believe in that promise. the past week and prob. the next two weeks will be hectic, but it's still been manageable and the lessons are getting more interesting. haha, boring stuff on school I know. I'm just trying to loiter here a while longer to put off starting on my public organisation assignment. haha. ooh, we played a new game in cell today, I think it's called polish UNO. as taught by judith=) it was super fun.

and when karen asked me how has my week been, I just felt so comforted that she asked. like I know she really makes the effort to know how we are coping and she is really interested in our lives. brilliant cell leader of ours no?:)and when I told karen about my recent conversation with grace being the highlight of the week, she just immediately asked how is she and all. and for some strange reason, I felt very touched. like there isn't this distinction between my cell mates and my friends? it's like we are all friends of each other. and we can just share freely about our friends in cell, and we'll genuinely care for them=)haha,and it's the same vice versa! heh, what can I say? My friends are awesome;)

okay okay. time to go off. oh, one last thing, dare to belive in the great and mighty love Jesus has for every one of us, and when you find it, never let go of it. and if you have not found it, don't stop till you do. it is indeed something so remarkable that God wants all of us to experience it for ourselves!

till the next post!