Podcasts have been on my mind a lot lately. I think they’re a great way to learn and contemplate a topic, or to gain perspective.
There are two podcasts that I subscribe to.
One needs no introduction- Diary of a CEO. Steven Bartlett’s staggering success with this podcast is nothing short of phenomenal. He even had a podcast episode air in cinemas! That must’ve been an amazing experience for those attending.
The guests are interesting. Sometimes they rise and on other occasions, sink, in listeners’ esteem. This is realistic, given how wide the audience is and how many different perspectives and personalities are on display.
The other podcast I’ve been listening to for some years is Gospel in Life. Since the passing of Tim Keller in 2023, the podcast has kept going strong with his sermons and talks. I love listening to him as I drive or sometimes when I have a moment.
The podcast seeks to tell people about Jesus, and if anyone is familiar with Tim Keller’s work, you’ll know that his talks are faithful to the gospel.
Lately, I’ve been listening to episodes of Pathways to Thriving. This is a podcast that I launched in September 2025. I listen back to identify bits for shorts in the editing process. I’m constantly in awe of my guests!
I started the podcast with the aim of getting more diverse voices heard. There are so many people from different parts of the world that don’t have a platform to share their insights, but who are remarkable people.
One of things I have to do to achieve my goal is to grow my podcast. So I’m constantly asking people to like, subscribe, and share my podcasts! It has to be done to get these voices out there.
I have loved recording the interviews so far. In the first interview, I’m so nervous, it shows. I’m slowly gaining confidence. I’ve started doing the interviews with a script. It’s a good trajectory!
My mind is full of my podcast- its growth, next guests, and content. I will share the link to my podcast here. If you have a moment, listen, like, subscribe, and share! I’m excited about what lies ahead. I need your support and I thank you for it!
I have COVID, and it has meant isolating for a few days. It has given me some time to reflect. This time last year was very difficult for me. I was being made redundant and the entire process of redundancy felt so very overwhelming.
One of the things that alerted me about the length of time that has passed, was a renewal notice for my website’s domain. At the time I’d signed up for it, with the help of a dear brother, I wasn’t sure of what I was going to do. I purely wanted to play around with things, see if I could come up with an idea, and he told me about the Black Friday deals. It made sense to take advantage of them. What was the worst that could happen? If nothing materialised, so be it.
In January this year, I went to Istanbul with some friends. It was a lovely trip, and although it feels so very far away, I remember clearly some of the things that I felt on the trip.
I felt that I was being challenged in my own mind. It had been some months since I’d started the job hunt, and so many things didn’t feel right. Offers that came my way, packages thrown at me for consideration – none of it felt right. This was odd, given that some of these were the kind of jobs I had long desired, and in locations that I had always wanted to be in. I had no peace with any of this.
At that point, I wished I was better at praying. I was so grateful for the fact that Jesus interceded for me. This was a big comfort because I was finding it hard to pray with all the distractions, and the tiredness that came about because of stress and worry. Now, a year later, I am again thankful for this same knowledge that I have.
I am so glad I have set up my own consultancy. I trust that this is where God has led me. I have felt a sense of purpose about my work, and a real sense of satisfaction that I had long forgotten. I wasn’t always happy in my last job. In fact, most of the time, I was frustrated and the sense of uselessness prevailed over me.
I hadn’t quite understood how disengaged I had become, thanks to countless U-turns and barriers at work. I wasn’t enjoying my work at all, and because I worked for a Christian organisation, the level of guilt that I felt was inexplicable.
Many a time, I wondered if I was disobeying God through my discontentment and dissatisfaction. I wondered if I was missing the point, and if I had to learn something, which I simply wasn’t yet learning.
It is funny how I fell into the thinking that God was maybe not happy with me, and therefore things were awry. That couldn’t be further from the truth, for the God I believe in isn’t petty. Yet, I started worrying for a moment about how I wasn’t praying enough, perhaps, or I was just not doing enough.
This was my frame of mind when I went to Istanbul. I saw and felt so much.
There is so much history in Istanbul – history that I think is riveting. I think the battle for Hagia Sophia, when the Ottomans conquered Istanbul, was mind blowing. It’s one of my favourite battle stories. I think the young Sultan Mehmet II was amazingly clever in how he took over the Hagia Sophia.
However, once the opulence of the Ottomans ended, it was such a difficult time of struggle for everyone in Turkey. Things never got back to the glory days, and then they were impacted very badly by the World Wars. It feels like the country has never recovered to its former self.
Yet, what did I see in Turkey? I saw people clinging to ways of life that they hold dear. There is a pride in the beauty of their lamps, carpets, and other craft. There is appreciation for their nature, including stray animals. It felt like all their dogs and cats were on steroids! There is high esteem for the tea mixes that they put together, the sweets that are made, and the spices that are sold. It was beautiful.
It made me reflect on my own faith. Life isn’t always kind. There has been so much loss in my life. For me, losing mummy was devastating. I never expected to go through such devastation again when I lost papa. In between, there was some sort of recovery, but never to the point that it was before she passed on.
Now, I find myself trying to keep going. As I try to grow a business, I feel a deep sense of sorrow for the loss of my home. I feel despair at points, because there is no turning back the clock to happier days, when I sat with my parents, and then for many years – with just my dad, discussing something or other.
There is a sense of past glory. How it all used to be. There were great conversations. We spent time together. We fought. We laughed. It’s all gone.
Yet, I have a sense of pride about my home. I want to go on making sure that friends and family are welcome. I never want this to end. I want to always be a good host. I want to do a good job at work – even if I don’t have my mum and dad to talk to about this. I want to have a sense of enjoyment.
Setting up my own consultancy, has given me this sense of satisfaction at work. I suddenly feel useful again. It was sheer grace from God that helped me author a book in 3.5 months. It was His grace that opened the doors to the esteemed publishers that immediately offered me a publishing contract.
It is His grace alone that has kept my RA at bay while I have worked on my book, my website, and on trying to get myself out there. I have even launched a podcast. Sheer grace.
I know it isn’t the strength of my prayers that’s doing this. Sometimes, I’m so sad when I go to sleep that I cry. Gamora licks my tears, and I fall asleep. I forget to pray. Sometimes, I am so overwhelmed by the difficulty of it all. I say a quick 5-second prayer. So heartfelt. Not!
I know full well that my discipline, my fervor, and consistency in my prayers have been in absolute shambles. I am exhausted. I no longer have my parents covering me in prayer. Yet, I know that in this regard, I don’t just have a vague idea of some glory days, I have a living Saviour. Jesus intercedes for me.
Fact – I have quite a bit to do to grow my business. Fact – I am dependent on God for grace. Fact – I cannot earn this grace. I keep failing. Fact – I don’t have to earn this grace. It has been given to me so freely.
I didn’t fully have the words to put to what I witnessed in Istanbul in January, and the realizations it invoked in me. But sometime in April, when our church did the book of Ruth, I understood my reality. God’s kindness to Ruth and Naomi is hard to fathom. In the beginning, even Naomi doubts it. She hasn’t been faithful.
Yet, God’s blessing comes upon Naomi (through Ruth) even though she had ventured far from His blessing. This faithfulness extends to all believers now. All of us who were ‘far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ’ (Ephesians 2:12 – 13).
I feel like I have been granted the same grace, if not more. I would be remiss if I fail to recognize God’s loyal kindness in my life. I don’t think that the messiness of life, or its meanness, and sorrows will ever stop His grace. It is because of the lows, that the highs become even more obvious. And for this, I am so grateful.
Whilst I hope that my prayer life improves, and that I get better at doing some of the things that I should, my ultimate prayer is this: that I always recognize the grace that is in my life and that forms my reality, and that I hold firm to this, despite the heartbreaking loss of home that I feel.
Papa and mummy, this would’ve been a wonderful conversation to have had with you. I miss you.
March 1999A wonderful day outA celebration!Showing love
It’s such a wet Sunday as I write this. It stopped raining a short while ago, but you can see large droplets of water on the plants and puddles all over out on the road. The rain that came was heavy. I like the rain because of how it cools things down for us. If it’s not heavy enough, there’s a kind of mugginess that envelopes us within minutes of it stopping, so I’m glad that this was good rainfall.
I didn’t go to church this morning. I’m a little tired and am managing levels of pain that are coming up for me. Whenever my body is pushed to more exertion these days, the lovely disease that’s an occupying force within me reminds me that it holds the keys. In many senses, it keeps me in check. I need to make sure I have downtime. I don’t think it is a bad thing, except I don’t like the feeling of unwellness that it makes me feel and the heightening of pain levels. It makes me walk funny – or should I say funnier? It makes me trip, slip, roll my ankle, or step a little wrongly as I move about.
Pain is an interesting thing. It makes me miss my mum and dad a lot. My dad, most recently, would ensure that I was fed or had a supply of hot tea coming my way. It would make me feel like I didn’t need to worry too much. Without his presence, it is different, as I still need to get things done. I have to make my own cuppa!
When I feel pain coming up in my body, I often wish I had a full -time butler like Jeeves. At times like this, when even my thoughts feel like they hurt, I think it’d be a good idea to outsource my thoughts to an intelligent being, like Jeeves. There’s character there, unlike the AI that I’m trying to get used to working with. At present, it lacks humour, discretion, and physical appearance. Who knows? This might change in the not-too-distant future!
For now, I have a little ball of fur right next to me. This little one, if I’m honest, even Jeeves has nothing on her! My darling girl, Gamora. Gamora isn’t human, and delightfully so. Her puppy-ness is what I find fascinating and most amusing. There are times, I find it moving. She’s able to relate. She reads situations well and she responds. This challenges me to do the same. A puppy teaching me about my humanity! This is why I’m certain she is such a blessing from God. It is why I feel like He sees me.
When the rain stopped this morning, Gamora and I were napping on the sofa. It’s bliss, I tell you. My housing area is quiet and the stillness is therapeutic. Gamora tends to love these moments when she’s cuddled right by me, and she doesn’t give them up easily, which is why I was surprised to see her suddenly fly off the couch and make urgent noises to want to go out. I let her outside and she flew out to the porch in such haste and started barking rather ferociously.
Recognizing the urgency in her bark, I walked over to her, only to see a large monitor lizard not too far from our front gate. Gamora’s radar for monitor lizards is impeccable. She seems to be able to sniff them out even at a distance. Sometimes in the park, she will spot one that’s having a swim. Even at that point, her little body goes into a ready-to-defend-warrior pose. I do not want her engaging in battle with monitor lizards. As smart as she is, I worry about the reach of their tails, which can hurt her.
I immediately sprang into action and ran to get a long, sturdy spade-like tool I have at the back of the house. Whether it’s a monitor lizard, frog, or cockroach that I encounter, I fervently start whispering prayers. I have such an intense dislike that springs from fear, towards these creatures, but living in a house, you inevitably have to deal with them. I could hear Gamora still letting out her warning barks and I tried as quickly as I could despite the pain my body was in to get back to her, and I did.
There was no more monitor lizard. I stood for a moment blinking, wondering if I’d dreamt the whole thing, when a neighbour who was walking his dog called out to me. ‘Your dog just made that big monitor lizard run!’ He had seen the whole thing unfold. My little Gamora was as proud as could be. She strutted back into our house and settled by me with a sense of satisfaction.
In these moments, I feel a sense of grace. I feel seen by my God. Why? Because I was dreading having to deal with that monitor lizard. I was dreading having to call the authorities for help because I am tired and am in pain. I didn’t want to spend time dealing with this. It is hard to explain the tiredness. I just want the quiet right now.
Thankfully, because of this little four-legged creature He put in my life, quietness is restored. She has been such a blessing, and I am thankful to God for her.
I never thought I’d have another dog. Not after how Loki died. Having to put him down at the tender age of three because of all sorts of trauma related issues, which were making it impossible for him to eat and drink or be around people, was such an awful experience. I didn’t want another pooch.
In February 2023, I was asked if I’d have a look at a litter of pups. The breeder lived nearby. Their intention was to breed pugs and dachshunds, but they hadn’t counted on Gamora’s pug daddy and dachshund mum to fall in love and somehow get together! The litter was adorable and there was ‘happy family’ written all over the pics and vids I saw.
I went to have a look at Gamora’s brother. I’d only ever had male pooches and I thought I’d get another male if at all I got one. I did catch a glimpse of Gamora when I went but she was kept away from her brother and me during my visit. Her brother was adorable, and as much as I enjoyed carrying him, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something wasn’t right.
I didn’t take Gamora’s brother and I thought maybe I should just not have a pup. Then, an uncle died and as my dad and I got back after the wake, I said how I missed the greeting that only a pup can give. My dad asked me to rethink getting a pup and the week after the funeral, I went back to the breeder.
This time, Gamora was in the pen. There had been a potential booking for her brother and the breeder decided that I should consider taking Gamora. When I went to the pen, Gamora’s brother, recognised me and started to run towards me.
I hadn’t counted on Gamora recognising me too! She did something remarkable. She started running, building up as much speed as her little legs and puppyish clumsiness would allow, and pushed her brother out of the way. She continued another full circle as her brother tried to get up and continue his progress towards me, and knocked him off again. It was fascinating! She then came full charge at me, jumped up with her paws on my shins and waited to be carried.
That was the first time Gamora brought tears of joy to me. There have been many instances since.
Her love of gardening, which is perhaps not conducive to my gardening hopes, just makes me smile. When she sees me admiring flowers, she tries to add to the joy by biting off the flowers and laying them on the ground! She does this with great skill for even the pots are bigger than she is!
Her love for cuddles and spending time splooting in bed as she cosies up to me, or snuggling in what seem like the most uncomfortable positions often make me tear up!
Lately, she’s taken to wanting back rubs- and she holds you fast in her gaze. That gaze of hers almost always brings tears to my eyes. It reminds me of her focus, her observation, and her uncompromising ‘you’re going to love me as much as I love you’ attitude. I find myself brining up with joy over this four-legged, barrel-bellied, floppy eared pup!
Interview someone — a friend, another blogger, your mother, the mailman — and write a post based on their responses.
All of August 2025, I have been busy working on my upcoming podcast, Pathways to Thriving. The idea for my podcast is to interview people who are thriving in their work, but whose voices aren’t usually heard.
My hope is that a truly diverse picture will emerge through the contributions from my podcast. Thriving looks different for every single person. And that is okay! In fact, it is beautiful.
I started off the interviews by interviewing a friend of mine, Daniel. There is something very modest about Daniel and it comes across only to magnify the importance of what it is he has to say! His prowess in legal education and his love for it, showed up during the interview. I loved it.
Another interview was with a really good girlfriend of mine, Rajash. It has been a joy seeing Rajash navigate her own law firm. She’s been one busy bunny, and the kind of things she’s been involved in from a legal standpoint, has been nothing but spectacular. I’m inspired by her!
The third person I interviewed was someone I met on LinkedIn. She was incredibly fascinating. It was so gratifying to see a Chief Human Resource Officer really bring people into the heart of leadership. I had goosebumps during the interview!
The fourth but not the last, is an old friend, Bassl. I met Bassl in 2008 when I was teaching English! He came to Malaysia as a student and I have to say he was one of the most hardworking people I ever met! I’m a few years older and we got on well. Over the years, I’ve got to know his wife and kids. While Bassl was in Malaysia on holiday, I snatched a moment to interview him. I had a sense of pride listening to him answer questions. He has grown a business and is doing well. His family is being cared for and loved. The challenges he faced to get there- he just overcame by sheer persistence.
I’ve been buzzing since starting these interviews. The joy, inspiration, and pride that I feel from these individuals – I cannot speak enough of! I’ve got more interviews lined up.
If you enjoy the interview – I am so nervous in the first one, but it gets better in the second and so on (I think!), please help me grow this initiative by liking and subscribing to the channel. There should also be an opportunity to put forward suggestions of people I can interview (am happy to interview them via Zoom as well!).
Tune in to the first interview with Daniel being launched on 2 September 2025!
What was the last thing you searched for online? Why were you looking for it?
It’s amusing me that I’ve literally just placed an order for groceries to be delivered and I see today’s prompt. I was shopping for a little gathering I’m hosting for some friends, to celebrate having finished writing a book.
My book will only be published next August. At the moment, it’s me waiting for the editors to come back to me with their comments. It’s a little nerve-wracking, if I’m honest, but also very exciting!
My book is on kindness in leadership and at the workplace. It feels like a commitment to what I’m doing for work in coaching and people development. I want to make the workplace better!
I’m not sure if I’m being idealistic, but as I’ve spent time thinking, I realise I love working. I love work – there, I’ve said it again! The times I’ve loved working have been when I’ve had good leaders and wonderful workplaces. Kindness was key.
If you’d asked me even in March this year, before I set up my coaching consultancy, I’d probably have told you that I wanted to write a book but was having trouble narrowing down what to write about. I pinned myself down for fiction. Never thought I had the chops for anything nonfiction.
The kind of clarity I had at the point of setting up the consultancy, was astounding. I felt like God kept extending me grace after grace to make decisions and do things. Once the launch and the paperwork for setting up were done, I thought I’d take a moment to reflect.
Time wise, this was about five weeks after the launch. I had also started speaking to clients and trying to get myself going a wee bit more on LinkedIn. That’s when the writing started.
I didn’t even think I was going to write on such and such a topic. The words flowed and I faithfully typed them into my MacBook. This is why it feels like God guided me through this. Before I knew it, in May, I had almost 30,000 words.
At that point, I took the chance and wrote in to a publisher. Their automated response was heartbreaking. It said they’d respond in six months and if you didn’t hear from them by then, to take it as they weren’t interested. It was a cruel reality. But still I kept writing.
Three or four days later, there was a response. One thing led to another, and I was offered a publishing contract. I boldly set my deadline as 31 July. Boy, did it feel overwhelming at points!
I wrote and wrote and wrote. God just kept pouring out grace. People understood when I couldn’t meet up, I could focus, and the words just kept coming. I couldn’t believe how memories of all sorts of incidents became alive in my mind. It was sheer grace.
What has all this got to do with why I was looking at a savoury cheese muffin recipe? Well, I’m celebrating! On 30 August, a few friends are coming by for dinner. It’s just a handful of us and I want to cook. They’re celebrating the fact that the book got written, with me! I’m planning to try these savoury cheese muffins as little starter bites. If they work well and don’t take too long, I may think about making them for 5 September, when my family comes over for a potluck gathering, to celebrate with me.
I wish that my dad was around to see this. He knew I’d wanted to write but I couldn’t say what. I wish my mum could see this. She always said I had a book in me. As I celebrate with family and friends, I’ll be holding my dad and mum close to my heart.
So now that I’ve answered this, it’s back to studying the recipe so that I can make it work!
I’m quite sure that I don’t have a fixed time of the day that I enjoy most. I’m neither a morning person nor a night owl. I can be either when the situation calls for it. There doesn’t feel like a particular effort for either!
I know from observation of self that I do have times when I feel a deep sense of joy. I can broadly categorise these as follows:
When I feel a sense of oneness with myself. This can happen at any time of the day. Often it happens when I’m out for a walk with my pooch, Gamora. Gamora is delightful. When we go to the park, she becomes a burst of energy. Initially, I feel like I need to manage that and get her calm. But once we hit that calm and our walk is in stride, then it’s perfection. I feel that I can take in all the colours of nature within the park. It tends to feel like all the flowers pop, and even the sounds of squirrels and whatnots are pleasantly playing in the background. I don’t have any outside noise in my mind, and I love the focus on what matters most to me- usually it’s remembering God’s goodness, the calmness of my breathing, the joyfulness in Gamora’s step, and our glorious park coming alive.
When I’m anticipating the arrival of family or friends into my home. When my parents were alive, I especially enjoyed the times we had get togethers in our home with family and friends. This feels like a big part of my DNA. Even a friend saying they’re dropping in for a coffee, makes the time feel special and fulfilling. It doesn’t have to be a grand celebration. These days, my parents are no longer with me, and home feels so quiet every single day. That is until I know someone’s popping by. Then it feels like my home feels a sense of joy once again. I love welcoming my family and friends. The build up to their arrival is wonderful and is always a good time.
When I’m in my garden with Gamora. Little Gamora features again. After my dad’s passing in 2023, I started doing a bit more gardening. He was always the one who managed the garden, and I never felt inclined. Now, I enjoy the times I go into the garden just to water the plants and throw the ball around for Gamora. She’s so silly. All I need to say is ‘Will you help me?’ And she’s off! She’s ready to do whatever- and as I water the plants, her help includes bringing me the ball to throw for her to chase, and barking at pigeons or any other pest that tries to come into our garden. Sometimes, she stops and smells the flowers, though I worry about that one. When she does that, she also has the tendency of biting off every flower and laying it by the pot. She makes me laugh when she does that because she seems so pleased by her efforts.
When I’m working on something and it’s all coming together. This is one of the best feelings ever! When I was in legal practice, it would be when the research showed me something I needed or when an argument started to form clearly in my mind. When I taught English, it was when I fell in love with the lesson I was prepping. When I moved into corporate training, it was a similar feeling – I get so pleased with something I’ve prepped. When I’m coaching, it’s when I’m reading up on how to be a better coach or finding that I’ve been truly present with a client. That gives me such joy!
My favourite times of the day don’t depend on clocks. They depend on the heart!
23 August 2025, will be exactly two years to the day that I found my dad unresponsive. Whilst I knew instantaneously that he was gone, simply because of how cold he was to my touch, my mind kept telling me that there was faint breathing. All I needed to do was to get the ambulance in quickly and they would revive him.
None of that happened. I mean, the ambulance arrived quickly, but the paramedics pronounced his passing. The chill that I felt at that point is something I vividly remember.
Things needed to be done. A funeral had to be organised. Over here, we do it all quite quickly. Family and friends had started turning up. It was happening. My dad had passed away.
It still feels unreal. I come home from a work meeting, the park, or from just having been out, fully expectant to see him at home, probably with his nose buried in one of his Extreme Sudoku books. It would be great to just have the summary of news given to me, with the perfect amount of detail. I miss all this a lot. Every time I realise that he’s really not around, my heart breaks.
This time, there is a difference in how I’m grieving. When I lost mum, I didn’t even realise that grief had hit me that hard. I didn’t know what I was going through. I knew I was sad, but I thought it’d be a few months and I’d be over it.
I never expected the other effects alongside the grief to take hold either. Suppressed grief isn’t healthy.
Seventeen years and seven months after losing my mum, losing my dad shocked me. I didn’t expect to ever feel such pain again. I never considered that my heart could be broken that badly again.
Yet, this time, it is different. This time, I know what I’m going through. I’ve been able to get the help I need and I do exactly what I need to whenever a wave of emotions come over me. This time, my grief has a voice.
What does this mean for me? It means I’m able to show up and be present. I’ve set up a business and have been busy with that. I’ve even managed to write a book! Am waiting for the editors now. It’s so much more activity than I could previously manage.
It’s not that I miss my dad less. Not at all. I feel a deep pain when I think about him and often I have to take little moments to shed tears or sit with the pain. It hurts so much not having him here. The devastation in my home caused by his absence is obvious to me. The struggle I face planning my ins and outs with all that I need to manage is tough to deal with. Celebrations with the extended family reminds me of what I’ve lost. The coming together of friends reveals to me another change in what I shared with papa. It hurts so much. It hurts so badly.
What is different this time is that I’ve been fully aware of how present God has been with me, helping me process the implications of my loss and what they mean for me. God’s good with grief. He never rushes us through it. He lets me have my moment, and I tend to remember how Jesus wept in the times I cry.
This is a pain we were never meant to be okay with. This is a pain that God never intended for us. My thoughts inevitably go to Jesus’ death and resurrection. I believe He was the perfect sacrifice and atonement for sin. My parents believed this too. So I know I will see them again.
Taking the moments the way I have been, have helped me remember these truths. They have been so helpful. They don’t numb the pain. Rather they help me channel it through the lens of God’s sacrificial love and mercy for us.
This is why I am calmer, more accepting, and am not spiralling from this pain. The way I eventually learnt to grieve my mum, has really helped me with the loss of my dad.
Sometimes, though, as I think back, I remember too how much my dad tried to prepare me for his passing. I’d never want to discuss it, but he kept speaking about it and reminding me not to stop living. He reminded me too that one day we would all be reunited. It brings tears to my eyes as I remember him doing this.
I think my father would be proud of me – especially with the business and the book. I remember how excited he was when I first told him I wanted to write a book – just that I didn’t know what to write about! He reminded me that my mum always said I’d be able to write one.
Two years later- and the rhythm in my home is still unsettled. Gamora doesn’t have her granddad to help out when her mama needs to go out for the day. Others come to the rescue -and we are grateful. However, it is a reminder that our home is not as it was.
Two years down the road, my Lombok creeper flowers magnificently. I feel God communicating with me through this – perhaps a response to many whispered prayers about how I’ll know He’s there since papa’s not here anymore – if He lets it flower. It flowers constantly. I hold to this like a child- it’s not what is promised!
Two years ago today, I lost my entire home. My broken heart broke all over again. Thankfully, this time, I’ve been able to keep my voice. I’m thankful to God for the father He blessed me with. I will always speak of my God and the many blessings He bestowed upon me.
The sensation within was inescapable. Beads of sweat were forming on the temples of her forehead and she distinctly felt the chill of cold sweat running down her back. What could she do in this moment? Her father wasn’t breathing, or maybe it was that his breath was so faint. Of course, it was faint. Nothing else.
She grabbed her phone and called 911. The operator sounded calm and she could feel the contrast in her voice when asking for help, which was shrill and stressed. ‘My dad’s not breathing. Please send an ambulance- quickly!’ By this time, she felt her hands and feet going ice cold. Odd to be feeling cold in the middle of the heat in the tropics.
She ran back to her dad. ‘Papa, wake up!’ As she pleaded with him urgently to please wake up, she couldn’t help but notice that even with her cold hands, she could feel the iciness of his. Not a good sign.
She had called her aunt. ‘Come quick!’ She had also somehow sent out a few WhatsApp messages to her pastor and to some other friends and family. She needed someone else to come and help her. ‘Please God, please God…’ she heard herself saying as the heat from her tears stung her eyes. ‘Please God, don’t let this be happening.’ She felt exhausted and beaten. ‘Come on, papa! Come on!’
She was losing her father.’ There it was again, a distinct chill, gripping her. She was furious with herself. The stupid RA that she struggled with meant she couldn’t kneel. She needed to kneel. She knew if she attempted it, she would suffer a fall. It wasn’t the time for a taking attention away from papa. She had to be okay to do anything that was needed.
She hovered over her dad and tried to feel his breath. Nothing, but if she could only kneel, she was sure she would catch the faintness of his breath. ‘Hold on, papa. The ambulance is on its way. Hold on… please. Oh God, oh God…’ She felt the need to do more. Maybe she should rub papa’s hands. Yes. The warmth would help make him feel better. She took his hand in hers, noticing again the icy feel to them. She would warm them. She rubbed his hands with all the energy she could muster. That would definitely help.
Her pastor called. She answered his call. ‘Can you get a pulse?’ She tried to get a pulse again. ‘I can’t feel anything,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘It’s too faint. Even his breathing is very faith.’ She couldn’t hear his reply because her voice kept repeating in her head – ‘it’s faint, it’s faint. oh God, please let it be faint.’ She couldn’t remember how the call ended.
She knew she wanted to keep the line free in case the ambulance drivers needed directions. A momentary stress hit her. The recent changes in road names and how areas were being reassigned meant that her address wasn’t always clearly picked up by the GPS. ‘Oh God, please let that not happen. If they get here early, they can revive him.
Why is he so cold?’ She resumed the rubbing of his hands and moved to his feet as well. He was ice cold, and his skin refused to warm up. ‘Come on papa… come on…hold on.’
She kept beating down the rising dread. No, she wouldn’t give in. The ambulance guys would revive him They would revive him. Surely, they would. They would come and they would make it okay. He may need to be in hospital for oxygen. ‘Oh God, oh God…help.’ She knew she would do whatever it took to nurse him back to health.
Just two months prior, they’d celebrated his nineth birthday. It’d all been so wonderful and beautiful. They were surrounded by family and friends. He’d been so happy. He’d felt loved and there was a sense of satisfaction being celebrated that way. ‘Oh papa, please don’t do this. Just open your eyes a little, please!’ She almost screamed that out.
The tension in her voice was clear. She called 911 again. ‘The ambulance is on its way, miss. Can you get a pulse?’ Why did everyone keep asking her about a pulse? She only knew how the pulse was taken from watching TV. Half the time those types of things weren’t accurate.
‘Papa is breathing faintly. Faint – but breathing. That became her mantra. He was breathing. He was. They will revive him. Oh God. oh God…help. I better open the gate so they can come in.’ Yes, she needed to have everything in place so that there’d be no hurdles for the paramedics.
She loathed to leave her dad even for a second, but she needed to be brave and do this. No delays for the ambulance guys. Smooth the way. She opened the gate and left everything wide open. They knew to come in straight away.
As she turned to walk in, she could see her aunt and some neighbours arriving. ‘I think he’s breathing but very faint. Very faint.’ Her voice sounded unconvincing to her. Never mind, they would see what she meant. They would confirm that the paramedics would revive him.
If only she had heard him go down. If only she had been there at that moment, his breathing wouldn’t have got so faint. ‘Oh God… please, help. Let him be okay.’
The ambulance arrived as she was walking back into the house with her aunt and neighbours. She saw them jump out of the ambulance with a few things in hand. ‘Good,’ she thought. They would revive him. ‘Bapa di dalam bilik. Masuk terus, cepat, cepat.’ She heard herself calling out to the guys in Malay, just in case they didn’t speak English well. ‘My dad’s in the room. Just go inside, quick, quick.’ She ran in behind them. They were going to revive him.
She felt a sense of relief that they’d got there so quickly. She’d need to go with them in the ambulance. She wanted to be with papa all the way. Instinctively, she grabbed her purse and phone. She would need that. ‘Thank you, God. They’re going to revive him. They’re going to …’
She noticed her neighbour shaking his head. Why? They were going to revive papa. She felt the chill return. A strong dread gripped her. Her hands were so cold and she was alive. Papa’s breathing was faint. They would revive him. Surely. ‘Oh God, oh God, help.’ Why was there no rush. The paramedics should be dashing out with him. They needed to get him to the hospital.
Another chill came over her body. Her knees felt weak and she was desperate to sit down. She looked over at her aunt, a sense of confusion, worry, and pain hitting her at once. Why were there tears running down her aunt’s face? What was going on? Why weren’t the ambulance guys rushing papa to the hospital? ‘I’m so sorry…,’ and with that her aunt burst into sobs.
Her neighbour stood by papa and put his hand on papa’s hands. Finally, someone was trying to warm papa’s hands! Finally. ‘I’m sorry for you…,’ her neighbour had turned his face towards her. She couldn’t understand all that was being said to her. What was with all the hushed tones?
The chill she felt intensified. The paramedic walked up to her. He was saying something but she couldn’t understand. She took the pen he handed her and signed the document he placed before her. Her world had just crashed.
What is the most important thing to carry with you all the time?
I’ve made some boo boos in the past, where I’ve left my purse at home. At least these days, if you have your phone with you, you have the option of cashless payments. It is pretty cool!
In the past, I’ve had to call a friend or two to come rescue me. Had it not been for these good Samaritans, leaving the car park I was in would’ve been a challenge as we needed to pay by cash or coins.
In light of these experiences, it’s easy to think that either my purse or my phone are the most important things for me to carry around with me. Yet, they aren’t!
My faith is. My faith is grounded in Jesus. He is my Lord and Saviour. He is my all.
I recognise that I might sound flighty saying that all I need is my faith. However, it is true. I don’t base this on some magical tricks or emotional manipulation. Quite the contrary.
I base my faith on what I read in the Bible. Often the veracity of the Bible is in itself called into question. Better researchers and writers than I am have written good and cogent arguments about why it is reliable.
I’ve read some of the arguments against the reliability of the Bible as well as these arguments in favour of and I trust the latter.
Faith is a gift from God- so we are told (Ephesians 2: 8-9). It is a gracious gift too, because it saves. The reminder is that we are saved by faith and not by our works.
My faith is often weak. It is often full of doubt. It’s also not always fed the right things. Thankfully, the object of my faith- Jesus, is strong. He is all wise and all knowing. There’s no doubt in Him. He’s the bread of life. My faith needs to be fed on Him.
Because the object of my faith is immovable, my faith is strong. I can see why sometimes friends tell me this. Yet, it is a gift. It isn’t something I have earned or saved up for. I am eternally grateful for this, because my faith really does need an anchor.
It is this faith that sustains me. Sometimes when I go out, I forget it’s with me. These are trying times. I feel threatened by someone’s words or actions, a situation brings me down, and feelings of hopelessness and helplessness seem to wrestle for command at the helm.
I’m always thankful when in the midst of this turmoil, I remember this faith that I carry. I remember it leads me to the supreme God, who amazingly, cares for me – despite the smallness of myself and my world.
There is nothing that I would say is more important than this. I believe I need to empty my pockets to make space for my faith. I should let it grow. Really, it is all I need when I consider all things 🙏🏾
Grace for the soul 