Author: anitastephen2015

So I call my beloved Patches the Turkey Thief because of the time he stole a turkey at Christmas some years ago. In my mind, the image of Patches dancing with that turkey as he gobbled it up, is forever etched. He has twice now stolen chocolate cake- the first time he ate enough cake for 30 people and the second was over Christmas 2018 when he quickly swallowed three chocolate cupcakes, paper cups and all! He was swift and sure. His actions precise and clinical. Nothing was wasted! No evidence left. Both times when he stole chocolate cake, the panic that rose in me was phenomenal. Dogs aren’t supposed to be able to process cocoa and get really ill. The first time, he spent the whole night smacking his lips rather loudly and last Christmas, he snoozed very contentedly in a corner, blissfully unaware of the stress he had caused. Sometimes I want to strangle the Turkey Thief! 

I complain about his silliness and call him a spoilt brat! But how I love his gentle face and expressive eyes. I would miss him unbearably should anything happen to him. Something almost did happen too. 

In October 2017, my darling Patches was taken ill. To keep a long story short, he almost died because a tumour in his liver burst. He had to have massive surgery and was very fortunate to have survived. I think the entire time he was in hospital, I had the song “Bring Him Home” in my head. In Les Miserables, Jean Valjean sings it with such desperation and this marked the mood and nature of my prayers that entire time. 

I was teary at best and in those dark days, I remember the sobbing. I don’t always cry and am somewhat a master at suppressing my feelings. Yet, this four-legged, tail wagging, food gobbling creature had me all knotted up. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. It was hard enough leaving him in hospital after visiting hours ended, not to mention taking him up to the operation theatre to leave him looking at me with eyes wild with fear when I wasn’t allowed past a certain point. It was terrible indeed. 

And yet, God must be praised. God must be praised for several things. The biggest thing for me is the success of the surgery and how the septicaemia was fought off. That alone should have killed him. It wouldn’t have been possible without the Creator, who made all things for His glory. As if that wasn’t enough, there was another incredible blessing: friends. Patches and I have been blessed with such amazing friends. I was ready to quit my job to be able to sit with Patches but we had a friend come spend time with him in hospital for the few hours when I wasn’t there. Then there were the other friends who came to visit and sit with me while I sat with Patches in hospital. The comfort they brought us both is undeniable. The costs of the operation were quite high. I wasn’t expecting this next bit. A dear friend, whose dog has been one of Patches’ long time friends, passed the hat around to our mutual friends. So many chipped in to help me cover costs. It was mind blowing. It was overwhelming. It touched me to the core and I shall never forget the kindness of these souls. I shall never forget how they stood united in my grief at a time of difficulty. I haven’t been able to write about this sooner because all of you really overwhelmed my senses. 

This only strengthens my faith in God’s Providence. He sent a material blessing and also intangible blessings of support and comfort. I know that to a lot of people, so much fuss over a dog would just be lost. So my amazing God kept those people at bay and brought me and Patches the ones who didn’t judge or minimise our trial, even if they didn’t necessarily relate to it. He brought us the ones who stood in solidarity with us in a way that I cannot stop thanking Him for. To each of these friends – you know who you are. Please know that my gratitude runs deep for your presence and generosity. 

The healing took a while. It took 10 months to be exact. The Turkey Thief seemed to have retired from his life of crime at this time. Slowly but surely the Turkey Thief regained his strength. Now he’s back to doing twirls as he jumps when he’s terribly excited; chasing after cats; trying to catch birds, rats and squirrels; smelling the flowers wherever he goes; imitating a vacuum cleaner when he eats – it is quite an impressive feat; and scavenging – he is forever scavenging because he leads a hard life and has only scraps for food …not! The mischief has returned. There are bouts of disobedience and cuteness that I cannot always successfully distinguish! My Turkey Thief is back and he’s loving life. Crime still pays handsomely, as does just turning up wagging his tail and looking positively silly! 

Watching him and thinking back on the whole experience that we went through- including the phenomenal support we received, I cannot help but wonder at God’s design for community. This was one wonderful example of how a community of friends displayed His glory through their generous and loving acts. It was such a diverse group of people who banded together in unstructured and unplanned fashion. They didn’t all know each other either. The precision of each message, phone call, visits and financial help is beyond my imagination. When I think back on this, I am humbled and remember His words that His grace is sufficient for me. 

As for my darling Patches, who as I write, is curled up against me in a ball, snoring blissfully (again!). You, my little creature, are growing older, as am I. You’ve seen sickness and have had to battle for your life. I’m seeing illness too, though thankfully not life threatening. You’re enjoying the days we lie in bed longer in the mornings and it’s harder to get you to simply chase after just about anything as you once did before. I’m letting go too. God is definitely using you to teach me things! The care He has for you makes me marvel and reminds me of how He cares for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. So – through this, I am reminded of His care for me, which in this instance, when you almost died, the care was through such a diverse community of people. Ultimately His provision for me of the gift of salvation that I don’t deserve. Another overwhelming blessing. I am so grateful to be on this journey with you, my darling Turkey Thief. I love you so much, Patches and thank God for bringing you into my life but… go near chocolate cake again and it’s a sure smack! 

Sometimes I feel very disconnected from everyone and everything. I cannot include God in this category. He can be trying at times, so my disgruntled self believes. Though I must say that even then, there is a disgruntled sort of connection. Perhaps another one that cannot be included into this category is Patches. He operates on a different level. Yet, I must ask the question whether he ever has moments when he feels disconnected from me. That would be telling! 

I don’t know why there is this disconnect. I must tread with caution here, for I am not writing to give offence. I am writing because I feel so very disconnected from the way everyone is and to a few sets of circumstances. 

Anyone who has spent a decent amount of time with me, will know that I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don’t think this is necessarily a strength. In fact, I think it’s one of my biggest flaws. Though I am not terribly sure that I want to be stoic either. Stoicism doesn’t suit me, I think. It is much too sedate and I’d probably fall asleep in the middle of a conversation with my stoic self. I certainly cannot imagine anyone else, including God, staying awake either! So I am not seeking stoicism. I really much rather God stays awake when I speak. 

I like the idea of steadfastness. The analogy that strikes me most is one of a ship anchored in the midst of a storm and doesn’t get too terribly beaten about because of the strength of its anchor. It’s so different from stoicism because the ship most definitely feels the impact of the torrents but unlike when you wear your heart on your sleeve and every emotion , yay and nay, carry you to heights or depths unknown, there is a calm when dealing with the situation. Heaven help if there is a disconnect between anchor and ship. All would then be lost.

So why do I feel so disconnected? I sometimes feel that I operate on a different platform from the rest. Where they are flexible, I am insanely rigid and where they are rigid, I’m usually quite happy to flex. What they are willing to accept, I reject with almost every bone in my body. What they reject, I want to embrace. I also need to stress that I don’t feel this about the certain hope we have in Christ or in the areas which are clearly black or white in the Bible. So for instance, I’m not about to promote sex out of the bounds of marriage, tempting as it may be, because it is clear from the model set that it was intended to be within the bounds of marriage. I’m speaking of subtler things and of the things we feel in the grey zone. 

Sometimes for instance, it amazes me that so few feel irritation. Look, I’m not saying irritation is the way to go. However, it helps us know when something is unacceptable. I don’t think it should be the go to feeling but more often than not, I find that there is a willingness to excuse stuff that I may just find impossible to excuse. Sometimes we knowingly let an adult who has abused another adult in what would be criminal behaviour, still remain with kids. Sometimes we go on doing things that impact the lives of others even when we know that we really don’t meet the mark. I am told to let it go (the Frozen tune plays in my head every time at those words). I suspect we think we’re being gracious to the former and that the latter has no choice. I’m not okay with either call. It’s not the exact same situation and I don’t propose to outline solutions for them. The disconnect is that it isn’t bothering so many others or the person themselves. It bothers me! Make no mistake. It bothers me. I don’t know if I’m this extra key that God made but then decided not to use in any of the musical scores He wrote. It would be, I reckon, the kind of joke He would play on me. So I am preparing myself to also find that my disconnect was yet another massive crime on my long list of crimes. Who needs Grindelwald?

So what is the disconnect? There is much Biblical wisdom in silence in the face of anger. This is a huge point of struggle for me. I think there is a restriction against nagging (Proverbs 19:13) and thankfully so. I totally agree with the bit about acting in anger, which I think would include speaking in anger (Proverbs 14:17). Again, I confess, this one, I find hard to follow. I do get angry and I wish I didn’t speak on auto-pilot when I am. I don’t actually think I am hot tempered. However, there are things that do make me angry. I find it so difficult when I get responses such as “oh but you can’t expect more from person X” or “person X is just that way… you have to accept it” or “this is how I am… I can’t do more,” or “let it go.” This is the disconnect: why can’t I expect more? Why do I have to accept it? And why oh why is person X content with how they are in that state? Why should I let it go? I’m not Elsa. Isn’t there something that drives us to be better than who we are? Why is it then, for person X, we say it’s alright to just let them be? Why do we give them a pass? It feels almost lazy to do this. Why isn’t person X struggling a little more to be better? Again, it feels like just a disregard for a duty they have to themselves. 

Change cannot happen at once. With this idea, I totally agree. It is simply crazy to think that we can without a Saul to Paul like conversion miracle, change overnight. I know areas in my own life where it has taken years for permanent change to happen. However, there shouldn’t be room for complacency. There shouldn’t be a pass for yourself, just because everyone else says “it’s alright”. Why would you accept that from them? Don’t you feel you’re entitled to improvement? 

Think about it. In most instances, our parents or those related, bring us up in a way to ensure we are the best versions of ourselves. There are truths they tell us that perhaps no one else will. On a larger level where there is absolute perfection, God does this to us too. Through the power of His Spirit, He convicts us of things where we fall short. Those truths aren’t pretty. Trust me: they show us how ugly we are. That is a bitter pill to swallow. Those lessons are hard. So if you and I are the vessels of the Spirit, why then, do we say “it’s alright” or “you can’t expect more”? Why do we adopt such defeatist attitudes? I cannot accept this stand. Maybe I have it wrong. 

 Some of the most pointed or direct observations from my parents and also very close friends have hurt. Who likes being given a rocket? Yet, these are the very lessons I remember because of the change they brought about. The glory doesn’t go to the vessel but it goes to the Holy One whose Spirit works constantly in us.

As such, we don’t really need to be stoic when we see problems around us. I think we ought not to be. I think sometimes we need to be prepared to say what needs to be said. Maybe remind the brother or sister in Christ of where their anchor is. For if their anchor is in Him, then they cannot be destroyed by the painful truths that are put to them. They must check their anchor. I suspect that this reminder is the “grace” when we speak the truth in love. Again, I could be completely wrong. 

For me, the wearer of my heart on my sleeve, perhaps this disconnect from everyone and everything else is good as uncomfortable as it may be. It forces me to rely on my anchor too. I shouldn’t be overwhelmed by the underwhelming responses to the call for change. Neither should I be too quick to adopt the responses of “it’s alright” or “you cannot expect more” as these responses fly in the face of change. Perhaps as I receive these responses, I should keep seeking out my anchor. I am reminded of this by some verses in Hebrews because the sinful nature desists change. “We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek” (Hebrews 6:19-20). 

Maybe the disconnect is something we should all feel. It reminds us that we aren’t where we need to be and that the journey to where we need to get to isn’t an easy one. It reminds us of the one sure connection we have: our anchor in Christ. May we ever be disconnected from all else

and ever anchored to Jesus. 

This year has zipped by. I don’t know if it’s just me but it feels like 2018 was just starting! Although it has gone by so quickly, there are things that happened this year that I’ve learnt so much from. One of the biggest milestones for me was recognising and putting gaslighting to sleep. 

I never in a million years would’ve thought of myself as a victim of gaslighting. I knew of its existence and have even helped others work through instances when they were gaslighted. So it was almost like being struck by lightning when I realised that I myself have been a victim of gaslighting. What a revelation it has been. 

It isn’t a secret that from a very young age, I was the target of bullies who taunted me for being fat and ugly. It happened so often: I cannot tell you the number of times when a ‘concerned’ family member or friend has said to me that unless I lose weight, I would never be of interest to men. The bullying caused a lot of anger in me and when I finally confided in my parents, my mum went to work to help me overcome the effects of the bullying. I think she did an amazing job: I went on to have boyfriends and romance wasn’t something unattainable to me. 

What I hadn’t realised was that there was a more dangerous act of gaslighting going on, which I never before realised or acknowledged. So many times when a guy approached me and when I thought it was clear he liked me, I would have a seed of doubt planted in my head by some girl friend or other. Sometimes they said that the guy was actually paying attention to them and that I’d mistaken his attentions. Other times it was just immediately pointing out how his attentions were elsewhere instead of me- again, it would’ve been contrary to my reading of the situation. There were times when I may have expressed myself to a friend very cautiously but I would have had my own caution thrown back at me with an even more negative spin on it that essentially said it was impossible for me to be reading the situation correctly. The result of this: I could never tell when someone liked me. I never trusted my own instincts on this. I cannot also describe the extent of the voices I constantly had in my head as a result of this gaslighting over the years. 

It didn’t help that this gaslighting reinforced the bullying. They were separate instances but they tied in so very well with each other that I never realised. 

Over the years, beginning with my mum, I started dealing with the pain from the bullying. She reminded me of who I am in Christ and of how my ultimate identity was tied up to His and not related to how I looked. This is not easy to live out. I’m constantly reminded about how much I fall  below the benchmark of what the world considers beautiful. I think Jesus would vouch for the many angry conversations I’ve had with Him on that score. Still, there has been healing: I was able to have some pretty amazing relationships. There has been protection too: I’ve never been accepting of ill-treatment from any of my partners. Also- there is contentment.

Yet through all of this, there has been one huge area that was lacking. Every time I met a guy who seemed interested, I had a million voices in my head echoing the doubts that had been planted in me. These voices were loud. They took over completely and they were loud and clear: he’s not into me; he prefers my friend; he didn’t mean it as a compliment; etc. There were so many things that had been said to me whenever there was a guy in the picture to make me think that he wasn’t really there that I had somewhat skilfully started gaslighting myself! 

Yet, I must thank God. There has been genuine healing over the years and even though I didn’t know I still needed healing, He went on to show me that I did. 

Earlier this year, I met a guy who showed me massive amounts of interest. It was a really strange feeling because for the first time, I walked away realising that someone had paid me this attention and that he had very neatly got us to exchange numbers. The next few months with him were pretty amazing. I constantly had voices in my head telling me I wasn’t good enough but this time I was able to tell the voices to shut it! What a good feeling that was and what a change in how I was able to approach the whole relationship. It felt good to not be caught up in a shroud of doubt the entire time. It felt so good to be able to assess a situation without feeling vulnerable as a result of being told you’ve a lower self value. 

I don’t know if the change came along as a result of a book I’ve been reading on how to process shame with Jesus in the picture. All I know is that it has happened. I cannot imagine it having happened on my own strength or through my own wisdom as I was so caught up in things. So I’m pretty sure that this was God moving me forward. For this freedom from the voices, I am so grateful. Am looking forward to a new journey in 2019 as a result of this. I hope that as I walk through 2019, I find myself more confident in my identity as a follower and believer of Jesus for there is true freedom in that. 

I love Christmas. I probably love it a little more than my own birthday. Well, I do believe that Christmas marks the birth of the Christ child and that it is how salvation has come into the world. It is amazing though how the commercial aspect of Christmas is also so much fun. The decorations and Christmas music all over the place as well as the special food stuff that comes in from all over – not always available all year round, add to the excitement. It’s also exciting thinking about presents. What to buy friends and family you hold dear, on what is often a limited budget! It’s fun planning parties and putting your guest list together. Getting your guests to participate in and enjoy the celebrations takes time and effort. Then there’s the menu. Sometimes we cater and get the professionals to relieve us of having to produce marvels from the kitchen. Sometimes we try to produce morsels that tantalise from our very kitchens. Oh the heights of busyness we reach. 

This year, it has been especially hard planning a get together because so many of the special people in my life are busy on the date that I chose. We’ve been talking about how we’ve run out of dates. It rings true when you and your friends start realising that your dos are clashing with each other! The mayhem. 

In the midst of all this, there have been changes to my own life. The diagnosis for rheumatoid arthritis is well confirmed and I have no more cause for denial. The last few months have been filled with the hunt for suitable treatment methods and it’s a godsend that I’ve just found trainers who can work with me long term on a physiotherapy regime that hopefully keeps me off medicines. It’s a prayer answered for sure and I’m grateful for the chance to fight without medicine. It’s not been easy grappling with the fact that I can’t do as much as I used to. Entertaining is now hard work. Not good news for the extrovert in me. 

Our home dynamic is also different this year. That’s been another reason why it’s harder to entertain. It’s an interesting learning curve for me, for sure and maybe somewhere further down the line, I’ll be able to say what the lessons have been. However, it makes it more difficult to organise dos as there are more factors to consider. Add this to the struggle to find a date where all my friends can come and the desire to be totally pain free to do exactly what I want to do for them when they come to my home, makes everything feel a little flat. Add in the fact that I’ve just received news of a good friend’s leaving. All very overwhelming. 

Still I don’t think I’m yet capable of a quiet Christmas. I’ve got far too much life in my veins and there’s so much I like doing as part of the festivities. It’s been amazing to just see how there’s momentum to every plan. Friends are eager to make things work alongside you. They help with carrying the shopping when I can’t carry as much because of sore wrists; they give me ideas on how to run some plans for the evening I’ve planned; they talk to me about baking and how much food we really need; they want to bring stuff to the get together and they also bring their talents and enthusiasm with them to just make everything flow. 

All this doesn’t reflect the reason why I celebrate Christmas though. The festivities are probably more of the hold of the commercial Christmas on me: the expectation of what Christmas should look like. It’s the stress that makes me want to wrap presents better and bake more. This year, I’m realising that this will eventually run out. A lot has changed from when my mum passed away. I don’t have the same desire to celebrate because it reminds me of my last Christmas with her. With time, I have recovered and gone on to celebrate in ways that suited the change her passing marked in me. Now with the RA and the change in our home, there are differences that are marking me. These are making the buzz at Christmas feel a little less necessary. 

One of my favourite things in the world was when my mum was alive. We’d sit up really late over the Xmas period and talk about the birth of the Christ child. We’d talk about it in many ways: the way the whole thing felt almost unreal but yet we knew there was Jesus. We talked about why the magical birth led to His gory, painful and terribly shameful death on the cross – for us. We’d often stop at that because the realisation of who we are makes knowing why He died so difficult to understand. We’d also talk about His glorious resurrection and how magnificent the celebration in Heaven would have been to have their Creator back on His throne. While mum isn’t here, I often sit alone downstairs in the quiet of our living room and think on these truths. Last night as I sat thinking of these in the quiet moments of the night, I realised that it was the quiet of a Christmas night in December, that the greatest joy came down to us. It is really Him that the greatest celebrations and festivities should be for. It doesn’t matter to Him if I cannot bake and cook as much or throw as many parties. It doesn’t matter to Him if I can’t put up all the decorations this time round. All the matters to Him is the big buzz in my heart when I think of Him during the quiet of Christmas and all year round. This buzz can never go out because He is the keeper of my heart and He lights its flame. This buzz isn’t just limited to this season- something that the commercial buzz cannot compete with. And this buzz is free. Oh Lord – how you often show me truths that baffle me completely! 

So if you’re like me and are longing for the days of old when you could do more just to keep up the Christmas beat, remember the Christ child and let Your heart be filled with the music of gladness of His birth. None of this is ever really reflected in the festivities of the season, if we’re truly honest. Yet they come alive in the quiet of Christmas. 

Merry Christmas everyone! May the Christ fill your hearts with true Christmas cheer! 

How I miss my mum right now. Sometimes it takes a moment or a series of events to show you how little someone else thinks about you – even if they insist that they may be thinking about you a whole load. There are dead giveaways to show you otherwise – and no, perfection is an ideal and not the goal. It isn’t what I’m aiming for – not in this lifetime, anyway. I think a few other friends get different parts of what I mean- and that’s been the amazing grace I see right now. Oh how I value them. We may not even speak on a regular basis, may have reconnected after absolute ages or may talk often and see each other quite frequently – so the diversity is there in terms of the nature of these relationships. Mum has probably been the only one who got all of it – perhaps it’s because I was her child and she saw me in the light that no one else ever would have. 

Am learning that some people don’t ever see how callous they can be. The worst part is that some of these people are actually well meaning. Explanations end up in arguments and unnecessary tears sometimes. I cannot claim to never have been callous – but I do hope that when it is pointed out, I have taken it on and perhaps made a change. The defence of callousness irks me. On many levels it hurts me. I know that some of my closest friends and I have at different points brought up how our behaviours were affecting us as individuals and others. These weren’t easy conversations to have but the challenges were necessary. We kinda grew up as a result and the friendships – well, they’ve become even more special because of the depth added to them. I’m not sure whether this now results in me viewing the defence of callous behaviour as a rejection of a deeper friendship – I’m not sure if I would be right to view it as this but it sure feels like it. 

Why does this hurt like this and why now? Maybe for the first time in a long time, I’m at my most vulnerable. I’m often sleep deprived these days, thanks to the rheumatoid arthritis flare ups. There’s also a chronic fatigue that has set in and that makes it crazy at different points. I cannot explain how much it takes out of me to be attentive to someone else on some of these days or how much I have to say “pack it in, Anita” just because I want to rage against all things and God for the losses I’m beginning to see with my rheumatoid arthritis. Except to a handful of people – and I should tell you who you are – so I will send you a message quite soon in private, I cannot honestly say what it is I’m suffering or the extent of it because so many people just don’t get it. 

The arthritis sucks. It’s not something that I can just say I need to deal with because it’s a result of bad decision I made. That would’ve been a lot easier! But it is part of the fallen world we live in- what mummy had has come down to me. She was most afraid of this. I saw the dangers of mum being isolated – so I stuck around a lot and am thankful for some very faithful friends who didn’t give up coming by our home – as difficult as it may have been for them. I sat with mum and called her a lot when I had to be out or at work. Now- I find these conversations coming back to me. My mother supports me even now. The graces God has shown us… just overwhelming really. Both Leela and Anita Stephen owe You, oh God, so much extra gratitude for these mercies. I’m looking forward to the day when we bow before You together and whisper this extra thanks- which is really all we have to give. 

So yeah – I’ve been upset over some stuff that has happened as of late- an unnecessary complication of things. I know the parties involved were well meaning. I must come across as an ogre when I hold on to boundaries – and I’m trying really hard to do this with grace. I am sorry if I have hurt them as a result. 

My prayers lately have been pleas for grace. I’m not sure they’ve been answered just yet! That stresses me. It has made me ponder over and over again- I need discretion and wisdom from above, grace and in general a whole load of being more Christlike. I need to remember that mummy is gone and the friends who get me are there dealing with the crap that this fallen world chucks at them. I need to remember that ultimately reliance on Jesus is what I need to be gunning for. How this looks like is what I mostly struggle with. Is it the mention of His Name when I’m finding it difficult? Is it the calling out to Him in constant prayer that I find so difficult to do? Is it talking about Him with friends? Is it writing it down in words in various forms? How does this look, Lord? Show me? I need this now- I need this help. The physical pain I can handle – because You have given me the strength to do so. This mental/emotional pain is what I’m finding most difficult to deal with. It’s a battering on my mental defences – something that i don’t need right now because of this exhaustion. 

I have lately been reminded of another gem from King David (if ever there should have been an Avenger, it should’ve been him!). Psalm 40:13 says “Be pleased, O LORD, to deliver me! O LORD, make haste to help me!” These are my words as I pray against the hurts I face from friends and against this ridiculous arthritis that makes me feel unshielded and exposed. There is one other truth that Jesus gave us, that I love. He said this prayer: “For I have given them the words that you gave me, and they have received them and have come to know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. I am praying for them. I am not praying for the world but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours.” John 17: 8-9. This verse gives me a sense of peace – because whilst I’m struggling in my prayers, Jesus didn’t and He has prayed for me. This rheumatoid arthritis cannot take that away. Jesus’ prayer is complete – He sticks it to my pain. When I think of this, I can see how much He gets me. So much more than I deserve. Thank You, Lord Jesus. 

It has been a few days since the Malaysian 14th General Elections. What an exciting election outcome it was too. No one predicted the winners – even if they had been hopeful for change. This was history in the making and it was a long drawn out affair. That counting votes took as long as it did was somewhat incredible. It was a snafu that the Rakyat saw through quite easily and the longer the delay in announcing the results, the higher the hopes for change were- soaring almost like a scorching inferno that was trying to reach a peak but wasn’t sure if it ought to. 

The damage of our totalitarian governments in the past showed clearly. The media once again did not know how to respond to the sweeping news of change. They stuttered, talked rot and focused on issues that would probably have not interested an ant, let alone a Rakyat starved for change. The insipidity of the media was probably matched by the Election Commission Chief whose lack of integrity and courage for the office he held was on perfect display. These clearly were the results of corrupt politics, where fear waged over courage and where honour was dishonourable and where lack of integrity meant success. We lack individuals in some of these scenes to stand up to the call from the drums of change. What a far cry these lot were to individuals like the late Karpal Singh, Lim Kit Siang, Anwar Ibrahim, Lim Guan Eng, Ambiga Sreenivasan and Maria Chin- who among others, sounded the battle cry of the Rakyat over and over again at various stages. How embarrassing it must be to be on the less favourable side of such comparison for an entire nation to see. Yet – this is where we see how significant the damage has been.  

For truly, it is damage. Damage done to a nation can be seen in the citizens it produces. How many lack confidence, are subconsciously racist and have a healthy disregard for the rule of law? A simple example is the number of people who would rather pay a policeman a small bribe for a traffic offence just to get off the hook. Another one is the number of people who would buy pirated DVDs or record films in the cinema. The number of shortcuts and other “creative” solutions are many! People have not just been suppressed, they have been groomed in ways that may be visible to those with discretion and who have held on to proper codes of conduct and honour. The damage done to the nation is also seen in the lack of critical thinking we have and the lack of able leaders we could turn to. Right now, we are lauding the man who probably weakened the bastions of this nation to an extent that enabled such destruction to take place. 

The weakening of these bastions occurred through the destruction of the age old principle of separation of powers where the executive took control of the legislature and judiciary to a point where we witnessed absurdity in decisions made by both the legislature and judicial powers. The removal of a chief judge and other judges, bizarre court decisions, frightening legislation that served to give more power to the executive, curb dissent or even the right to free speech, et. el. – are startling examples of how much damage has taken place. 

There is much work to be done. 

The good thing is, that at least it seems to have started. The kind of coverage we seek from the media may take more time to come about because it is about getting the right people into media roles. It is of course, not just the media that is affected. All industries across the board need to step up now. No more playing around with statistics, evidence, etc. Change must happen but sustainable change is slow. 

Hopefully there will be more critical opinion pieces that are produced that will challenge mindsets and keep us on our toes. Hopefully too, the hunt for individuals to take over the rather big jobs of running a nation will not prove too terrible. There are many able Malaysians out there who I hope will be selected to take on the right jobs and who will help to bring about the kind of healing that this nation needs. 

I am hopeful that the step away from race based politics and from corrupt practices will yield good fruit. I am hopeful that people will genuinely see each other as people and not within ethnic groups that they have long been placed under. I am hopeful that the wiping out of corrupt practices mean competitive business practices and genuine opportunity. I am hopeful that our courts will no longer produce bizarre decisions because of pressures unseen. I am hopeful that people will be free to practice the faith of their choosing and I include atheism as a faith where you believe there is no god. I am hopeful that people of different sexual orientations meet with kindness and aren’t discriminated against. I am hopeful for leaders who will be accountable and who won’t dismiss questions with superficial sarcasm but who will demonstrate the ability to provide meaningful answers even under fire. I am hopeful for a great many things. I am hopeful indeed. 

There’s a sense in which I’m able to now make more meaning of my singleness. It is something for which I am grateful and for which I never ever thought I would or could be grateful for. It is the opportunity I’ve been blessed with to walk with a sister who has been going through a really tough time as a result of an emotionally abusive relationship.

The devastation that I see in her as a result of the abuse enrages me. I think it should enrage more of our family in church. The call for reconciliation shouldn’t be so strong in this situation, I think. I don’t say this because of any disregard that I harbour for marriage as ordained by God. I well and truly believe that marriages should last a lifetime. However, in a situation where one party is behaving contrary to God’s law, then the compulsion cannot be on the wronged party to stay put in the marriage. Nor should it be on the wronged party to seek reconciliation. We should be going after the abuser. We should be highlighting to them how wrong they have been and how there is a need for change. We should be protecting the abused. It isn’t just one person’s job but the church community’s as a whole. There should be follow up on how the person is coming along and there should be respect for how much that person may want to or not want to share. The balance is delicate. It is so easy to get wrong and I guess my prayer would be that the person who has endured the abuse would also recognise that the church is made up of flawed individuals who need grace to get by and therefore any response from the flawed would have its failings. This is inevitable.

I did say at the beginning that I see a blessing in my singleness in all of this. I don’t mean that I have been spared having to go through similar heartache. Yes – that part is true but it is one that I have always supposed that to be the case: the right one or no one. The blessing that I’m seeing is the chance to serve my God as I walk with my sister. She needs to know, however, that I have not the capacity to perhaps support her in the way she fully needs to be supported. I appeal to her to recognise that my stamina is limited, as is my strength. My foresight is non-existent and I am limited in my wisdom and my abilities. My heart is full of fear and my knees tremble at the violence she has undergone. I am sickened and troubled by it all. I am stressed by the intrusive questions and unkind comments or assumptions by fellow Christians just as I am worried that I may fail at respecting a boundary between us.

The chance is there though. It is there for the taking. I want God’s love to be displayed in my life as I deal with her in this. I want Him to complete in me the good works He started and which I often find ways to resist or delay. The chance exists because I have no husband that i need to consult in my endeavour to walk with my sister. I have no spouse or children, whose demands I need to adhere to or factor in, as I attempt this walk. This can be done and there is a chance – a very good chance that I will learn and be changed through her suffering too. One only hopes it is in a way that glorifies God.

There have been other opportunities in the past where God has let me serve. This one is different because of the depth that I find myself in with her on this. The delicacy of boundaries and the need for love and truth are truly paving the way for a more intimate relationship with another person in Christ, who isn’t a spouse but a family member in Christ. Had I been married, I am very sure that this opportunity would have passed me by.

To my dear sister, this I say: thank you for letting me walk with you. Whatever strength I have within me to support you with, you can be sure I will give because of who I am and who you are in Christ. However I can defend you, you can be sure I will because of who I am and who you are in Christ. When nobody else is listening, I will listen – or try to listen, because of who I am and who you are in Christ. No matter how down I may feel, I will rise up for you because of who I am and who you are in Christ. This is the blessing: discovering a relationship in Christ in a way I could never have imagined: sharing tears and some laughs, thoughts – both deep and frivolous, speaking truths in love, making mistakes and apologising – simply because of who we are in Christ. As you figure things out where the future of your marriage is concerned, and, as you realise the depths of God’s love for you, recognise that He has given us people to walk alongside us in Him, and they make us see things the way we may never have otherwise. So- I thank you for helping me make sense of my singleness. Just so we’re clear- i’ll Say this once again: I’m not shutting the door on a Benedict Cumberbatch lookalike – just saying! 🙂

When I was a practising lawyer, I had the opportunity of working for an amazing senior lawyer. He was fabulous not just in terms of the work he did but also with regard to his temperament. I reflect back now on some of my experiences with him and I think -“wow”- how blessed was I to have had such a boss!

I don’t know what made him a good boss. I know people often speak of leaders and managers and the differences between the two. However, I’m not sure what made this quiet, unassuming character such a good leader. He wasn’t perfect – none of us can claim to be perfect. There was no extra pomp and ceremony about him. He didn’t need to hold court or be seen by everyone. He ran a quiet practice. Still he was a great boss to work for.

I wonder if he was able to somehow not get caught up in his role of boss or lawyer or employer. He was able to respond in such human fashion. I remember coming back from holiday and upon being back at work for several days, my dad was involved in an accident. My gracious boss simply took the file off my hands and said “go do what you need to”. There was such grace in that act. Such kindness. He didn’t suddenly start counting the hours I had worked since coming back, neither did he put pressure on me in anyway whatsoever at that point.

The funny thing is, he never made a big deal about how I should go to him and ask him for things. None of that kind of talk. I just knew I could go to him and see him and speak my mind. I knew it was a safe zone. How his actions spoke far louder than his words! It is so unlike some of the stuff I’ve seen and heard about lately. I’ve heard bosses delivering speeches about how we can go to them for anything. Yet – ask for an hour off because things are crazy in the office and you need the hour to finish some work and you open yourself up to comments about how they expect their staff to be prepared well in advance, etc. First and foremost – just because you need an hour more, doesn’t mean that you are unprepared. Second, it just shows almost a meanness of spirit in making such comments. There is no safe zone.

It is the recognition now of how such negativity was missing from the conduct of my law boss that makes me ever so grateful for the time I spent with him.
I wonder whether my ex-boss’ ability to be so gracious was because he wore his humanity over and above his role of lawyer or employer. I wonder if that made the difference in him. I know that I have fallen short of my humanity at points when I have pushed for something even though the person who hadn’t delivered had a legitimate excuse or could have done with a little bit of understanding. Hopefully I can keep recalling and learning from my past experiences with my former boss and remember that this role I have of humanity should never take second place. I suspect even the corporate world will be a happier place if we all remembered this a little more.

Mum, I’m often asked if I still miss you. I’m asked by people who suffer loss, if time has changed how I miss you. The short answer to these questions would be a firm ‘yes’.

Some people judge me because I no longer visit your grave. A lot of people have asked me how it is I can refrain from going to your grave. I have nothing against people who go to visit the graves of their loved ones. They need to do what they need to do. I am not the judge of this. However,  I cannot go to your grave now and it has been many years since I’ve been to your grave. When you first left me, I needed to go there every single day. Sometimes I went twice a day. I felt like a raving lunatic but in a way it was necessary for me to go to your grave to even begin to grasp the fact that you were gone as going there made it real and broke through the numbness that took hold of me when you first passed. Now, going there makes your absence even more painful. I can’t bear that, mum. We all bear our grief differently. Every time I step into our home, I feel your absence. You’d be waiting for my return ever so eagerly. Every time, I have a moment, whether I’m out shopping or with friends, I feel your absence. I used to call you in those moments! Every time I have feelings that are different on a particular subject, which, tends to be most times, I feel your absence. You were incredibly tolerant of different views and you weren’t judgemental. You weren’t afraid of giving me a rocket if I needed it! 🙂 Every time I have to vent, I feel your absence. What a great listener you were. Every time I have great news, I feel your absence. You’d be the first one to hear it. Every time I have something frivolous or serious to share, I feel your absence. Your responses were always apt. The list goes on and one. It starts with “Every time I…” I don’t need your grave to make me realise you’re gone, mummy. I feel it in my bones. I feel it with every breath. It is real. I feel it every time.

There are moments when I can almost hear our chatter in the distance. It’s like watching a movie reel of our lives in moments past. I love these moments. They seem real at points and I feel like I get caught up in them. I’m not sure if I ever want these flashbacks to stop.

Over Christmas just past, I made some changes to our home. Some of these changes are things I talked about with you. I’ve been in sort of a reverie where there’s been an inertia holding me back from going ahead with things. Some of the changes are new – things I’ve recently thought about. I think you’d like what I’ve done to the place. Anyway, while going through the lockers to clear out stuff before they were pulled down, I found your old Bible studies. There was a question: ‘What have you learned from these lessons in Romans which will make a lasting difference in your life?’ And you answered: ‘I have a sinful nature. By accepting Christ, I am alive to a new nature. There is always conflict between the old and new natures. Victory is mine through Christ – by allowing His Spirit to control my new nature.’ Mum, this answer and many of your answers, where you thank God for me, my disposition and may other things that you said, brought tears to my eyes. This find was the best Christmas present ever: a legacy of your deepest thoughts. You shared your faith with me and in these books are the ways in which you processed your faith and came to a better understanding of our God. It’s almost as if I have you speaking to me still. No one else will ever share this part of you – of that I am acutely aware. You thanked God for me over and over again as your biggest blessing (apart from Jesus). Oh mum, how I am thanking Him now for you – over and over again.

Mum, I could go on and on about you. I’d sound like a broken record. The thing is, I think you’d be quite pleased with me now. I remember you. Well – it is a little hard to forget some of those rockets you gave me! 🙂 I did pay attention – and I find things so much better now. You taught me how to fight for what is right. I think I’m doing a reasonably good job with that. You taught me how to handle pain. I will never be able to imagine how you managed so much with your arthritis the way it was. I know God played a huge part in helping you maintain such a cheerful disposition. I have to learn this now:  my pains are nowhere close to yours – but when it hurts, it hurts. Perhaps the biggest and most important thing that you taught me was about Jesus. I remember you. You taught me many things, mum. I remember you a lot.

I think I’ve slacked a little in somethings. I’ve tried to hold on to the things I accumulated from when you were still alive. Last Christmas – I got rid of a whole lot of stuff that I held on to. I didn’t have too much trouble disposing of King Lear! I never liked him! 🙂 Oh but mum – there were so many wonderful memories as I packed these books and things up to be given away. It revealed a lifetime of learning, tears, pain and joy among other things. They barely revealed the depth of the discussions you and I have had though they showed the amount of time you spent on me in my early years and the times we continued to spend with each other until you left. These memories cannot be packed up and given away. They are mine to treasure – and treasure them I will.

I think if I’m to answer the two questions I’m often asked – about whether I still miss you and if time has changed how I miss you, my answers would be a firm ‘yes’. There is no doubt. I don’t need a reminder now to know you’re gone. I feel it alright. It is a trial that I wish I hadn’t had to have borne the loss of you from the time I had to bear it. Yet – missing you has driven me into the arms of our Saviour, whose promise of the day when we are all united under Him with no more tears or pain or mourning (Revelation 21: 4) fills me with a hope that spurs me on. I will quote you from your study on James. You were asked in what way the study of the book of James helped you most. Your answer mum – was sterling. You said “Trials test our faith but we have to be firm. Prayer is a source of strength which will make us aware of God’s grace and change some of our wrong attitudes.”

On the 7^th of January 2018, it will be 12 years since you left me. I thank God for where you are now. I thank God for you. I love you loads, mummy.

Christmas is almost here and I’ve not organized a single get together at my place. This is such a stark contrast to my usual Christmas celebrations. Last year alone, I hosted either 7 or 8 Christmas parties for different friends – just to celebrate Christmas! This time, I’ve not even baked a Christmas cake, let alone put up my Christmas tree. We are having a bit of work done at home at the moment and the bulk of the work is just complete – but there is still some work left to be sorted out. Anyhow hopefully the dust will literally settle after the cleaners leave this evening and I will be able to put up the tree. All of this feels so different from last year and the years past.

The one big thing I can say is that Christmas means more to me now than ever before. These last few months have been difficult in many ways. Somehow through all these, I am learning so much that’s brought me to this point where I am even more thankful for Christmas than I have been for a long while.

First up, I’ve had the privilege of walking alongside a sister in Christ who has suffered abuse in her marriage for 7 whole years. The pain I see her going through, the difficulties she has had making people understand the nature of the abuse, the pressure that has been put on her to reconcile and the changes she is having to address in her life as a result of the abuse have in a strange way had an impact on me. Much to my dismay, I recognize that I am limited in my capacity to help her. I cannot make this all better. I cannot do more. To my joy, I thank God for the blessing I have been given by God in my parents. Oh my God, I will never stop thanking You for them. My mum’s no longer with us so I sat down and I thanked dad for the upbringing they gave me. It wasn’t perfect – heavens no. Yet – it has been so good and so full of love. It has been secure. I thank God for the blessing He has given me in my friends. I recognize that my friends, whether near or far, are like family to me. We don’t always share the same world view or ideas. An example of this is we don’t all like Benedict Cumberbatch (thankfully – coz I hate sharing!). Yet we have shared so much – good and bad and we have stuck it out. We have hurt each other and we have built each other up and we have stuck it out. We have had heated exchanges but our friendship has remained constant. Oh my God, I will never stop thanking You for them. My friend’s situation has made me see that a lot of these things I take or have taken for granted are really not at all common. I am humbled that her suffering has been the means for me to learn such a valuable lesson: I am loved by God. The Lord Jesus has blessed me. I will be the first to admit that I am tired as a result of this journey. I am drained from the entire thing – and I cannot even begin to imagine how she feels. I am also overwhelmed because I am blessed. My prayer is – that I will share this blessing with my friend – and anyone else I possibly can.

Second, this year has been so very difficult because I have been watching my father age. I haven’t realized how yuck I have been feeling inside watching this until yesterday, when he sat me down and asked me to help put somethings down in a will for him as he wants it to be easy for me in the event anything happens to him. Last night, I balled my eyes out. Don’t get me wrong – my dad is 84 years old and he is still very independent. He drives himself out for breakfast and lunch, he has been very involved in the work we’ve been doing around the house and he’s incredibly supportive of me. It hasn’t always been easy between dad and me. I am my mother’s daughter in many ways and dad is a quieter, more reserved personality. Yet, as he ages, I see a kindness that is coming out even more than before – just so that I, his impetuous only child, understand the depths of his love for me. Mum always told me that he loved me loads. Well, I never claimed to be a fast learner! There’s a fragility that is setting in: a weakness in his physicality that is hard to bear. There are moments when he struggles for breath and when the exhaustion is overwhelming. I don’t know how to cope with this – I truly don’t. You think you are prepared for it all but you never are. Through dad’s ageing, I am learning how dependent we are on God and how He supports us through this. Thank You God for papa. Thank You for his goodness and kindness. I am very blessed indeed. Oh my God, how You have loved me! My prayer is that I can be as generous to others as papa and mummy have been to me.

Third, I almost lost Patches this year. I almost lost him twice. Once in January because of a poisoning and then at the end of October thanks to a tumor that erupted inside him. My darling creature is showing signs of slowing down – the operation has aged him and he is getting on in years too. He takes more time to show me how much he loves me: now we have to stop more times as we come down the stairs just so that he can give me the most heart-melting look and claim a quick rub around his face and ears. He’s become even more keen to please and I’m treasuring every single day with him. Even here, I find that I am blessed. All my life, I thought the best partner for me would be someone sophisticated – well-spoken, wise… well – someone along the lines of Benedict Cumberbatch! J Yet – one of the best companions I have, my partner in crime, is a four-legged creature that wags his tail and shakes his bum like no tomorrow. He doesn’t say a word and is scared of his own reflection in the mirror! He’s incredibly cowardly and loves playing with a teddy bear. Oh what great company he is! He is constant and faithful and ever so pleasing. I find myself once again overwhelmed with this blessing of Patches. He has been the perfect companion in ways I cannot even comprehend or believe. Oh my God, how You have loved me! My prayer is that I can be as accepting of others as how Patches is accepting of me.

So what’s all this got to do with Christmas? Well, I believe that we celebrate Christmas to thank God for the Christ-child who was born so that He could die to save us from our sins. I am so grateful that Christmas isn’t only about getting together and beautiful Christmas trees. It isn’t about the cookies and cakes we make or the enormous spreads we put out. It is about the generosity of the living God who did not spare His Son but sent Him into a world of sinners. He sent Him into this world where relationships were broken between humanity and Himself, between humanity and the world around it and within humanity itself. He sent Jesus so that we have the certain promise of life hereafter. As if all this wasn’t overwhelming enough, I can see rich blessings poured into my life – blessings not measurable by dollars or cents, fame or recognition – but blessings that have uplifted me, spurred me on and humbled me. It is true that I in my lack of wisdom may not have sought these blessings but have sought others. Yet, God in His mercy and wisdom blessed me so richly. These blessings are in addition to the greatest blessing of forgiveness and eternal life that Christmas brings. I have done nothing to deserve them – they are purely grace I have received from Jesus. For this Oh God, I thank You. My prayer is that I will always thank You – and never forget Your grace to me.