I’m not ashamed to admit it. These days I spend the most time with my pup, Gamora. Gamora is half pug, half dachshund. She’s got such a bright and quirky personality. She’s also the most instinctive of all my pooches.
I’ve come to realise that I’m a bit of a homebody. My home’s shattered now. In August this year, it will be two years since I lost my dad and it’s about eighteen and a half years since I lost my mum. I feel like everything has changed. Gamora came to me five months before my dad passed on and maybe that’s why she feels like a link to home as I knew it.
Gamora loves people. One of my cousins is her fairy godmother! She’s always coming to Gamora’s rescue, when I need help looking after her. My aunt, my cousin’s mum, has declared that she is Gamora’s fairy god-grandmother! It’s hilarious, but she too comes over to help me out. Some of my other cousins, uncles and aunts, come over when I celebrate Gamora’s birthday. It’s really sweet because they even bring her presents.
Some neighbours stop by to say hi to Gamora. One even stops his car outside our gate, gets down and has a chat with her before leaving. I don’t need to be around! An old friend of mine and her daughter are some of Gamora’s very good friends! Every toy they’ve brought seems to be her favourite! And there are some others who drop by quite often, all of whom Gamora adores. She shows it.
My favourite thing with Gamora is when we go to a park she loves. She enjoys walking. It’s funny how people greet her and play with her, because she shows her appreciation. I also love taking her to cafes. She loves the attention! I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love just pottering around with her in the garden, throwing the ball for her to catch. I love how she chases after it and catches it so quickly. Maybe my absolute favourite is when she snuggles up to me. In this heat, it’s like having a hot water bottle, which isn’t helpful, but somehow, just feeling the softness of her ears, the roundness of her belly, and the cuddliness of her entire being, melts my heart.
I’m so thankful to God for Gamora. She’s such a big, bright blessing.
At the park- a bit hot and sweaty.Appreciation when I’m home. Snooze time
I come from Malaysia, which is very close to the equator. It’s hot and humid all year round, with lots of rain throughout the year. I have experienced cold weather while on holiday in Ooty in India, when I was a little child, and then in the UK as a student, and subsequently in a few other places when on holiday. The latest was in January 2025 in Istanbul.
I’m not put off by cold weather. There’s something romantic about it, especially when you’re writing about it from the warmth! Truly, though, I like experiencing the cold. There’s a crispness about the air and a coolness it plants on my cheek which I simply love. I love it when there’s an event to get all dressed up for. You don’t feel sticky at all- and everything from your makeup to your hair remains in place, unperturbed by sweat. It’s brilliant for photos!
Yet, would I want to live in the cold? I don’t think so. It makes everything more difficult. Going outside isn’t just a matter of stepping out in what you’ve got on. You’ve got to be properly attired. I also feel it gets really complicated because it can get very warm in a stuffy sort of way when you’re layered up. I find that I’m always putting on and taking off layers, like it’s a fun pastime.
If given a choice, I’ll choose the heat – especially if it’s by the sea. There’s a magic that happens in that weather that remains unbearable for me. So whilst I don’t hate the cold, I’ll stick to the seaside sunny-ness that I love with all my heart.
Whilst I have had my share of broken bones. It’s not something I recommend trying to get a share in. It’s not fun.
My first broken bone was when I fractured my elbow. I must’ve been around 6 or 7. I remember it clearly till today. My mum had just left home and was already walking past a neighbour’s house when it happened. She dropped her stuff on the road and ran back.
I’d been reading a book and had decided it’d be a good idea to continue reading as I navigated the staircase. I missed the last three stairs and landed rather unceremoniously near at the foot of the staircase in agony.
It all ended well in the end.
Some years later, I think I was in my teens at the time, we had family visiting. My dad and I were outside with some of our family and I don’t even know how to explain what happened, I started pretending to push against him, except that I’d stop before I got to him. We were all laughing and in my mind, I secretly planned to push all the way in the next minute. I wasn’t to know that at precisely that minute, my father’s secret plan was to step away. So I ended up lunging forward, missing my dad, and falling flat on to my wrist. That’s how I fractured my wrist.
Also in my teens, I started having very bad pains on my knee. When they did an x-ray, they realised there were a lot of hairline fractures on my shin that were healing. We have no idea how that happened. I just remember the shock we had when we saw it. This was the start to a diagnosis of ‘growing pains’ which is thankfully long behind me!
The last bone I broke, and I hope it remains the last, was my nose. This happened when I was in university in the north west of England. I was walking down a street on the 3rd of January. It was extremely quiet because people were still recovering from partying. As I walked downhill, and was about to step off one pavement onto the next, I slipped. I’d no idea what had happened but I fell face forward, hitting myself on the pavement. I’d slipped on black ice. I come from Malaysia- we don’t have sleet and black ice here. I ended up breaking my nose and sustaining a fracture on my skull. It was awful.
Unlike the earlier fractures, this last one happened not long before my final exams at university. We couldn’t afford for me to defer my exams and I sat for them with an oozy head. The effect that’s lasted is that my final grade suffered. In the end, I’ve still done well. I just often wonder what other doors would’ve opened if I’d got the best grade I was capable of at the time.
What’s one small improvement you can make in your life?
There are so many areas in myself that I want to improve upon. If I had to choose one, it’d be to improve my sleep discipline. I’ve been working on sleeping better for some time now. As someone who is struggling with an autoimmune condition, I’ve felt the impact of getting enough sleep. When I get enough sleep, I find that my pain levels aren’t as bad, and that my recovery time from any exertion is quicker. More significantly, I find that when I stick to my sleep routines, my mind is rested. One of the worst symptoms of my disease is chronic fatigue. Whilst sleep isn’t always good during this time, getting all the rest I can helps with the tiredness that my mind feels in those times. I recognise too that when I’m okay, sleeping well makes me stronger mentally to face the times when a flare strikes.
It sounds almost boring and I feel at points that I’m missing out on things with friends and family. But I’ve learnt to be content with the exceptions I make to my sleep patterns and to enjoy the overwhelmingly wonderful results.
I love this topic! I’m a leader, but I think the only reason I’m a good leader is because I can follow. There are times when I’m in a setting and there are quite a few drivers. In those instances, I find that I’m able and content to let them lead. I don’t feel like I must always have the reins- but I make sure I speak up when I need to.
I think what’s often missing is that people want to lead but not follow. Leadership that’s inclusive and kind (and consequently, strong), requires people who’re able to follow. Otherwise, it’s impossible to listen to or empower others.
My hope is to keep growing my ability to follow and to lead. Growing in humility isn’t easy – feels counterintuitive, even, but is a necessary lesson.
So, there are one or two more recent live performances that I’ve been to, but the one that I want to talk about is the U2 concert I attended in Singapore on 1 December 2019. It was just before the travel lockdowns started with COVID, and it was my last trip for quite awhile because of the pandemic. I had for the longest time, wanted to go for a U2 concert. When I found out U2 were coming to Singapore, I knew I had to! This felt right.
There was a huge setback because my friend was at the last minute unable to come for the concert because she was recovering from an illness. Another friend took her place, and that ended up working out fine. Getting to Singapore was a bit of a struggle, though. My flight, which ordinarily would’ve taken an hour ended up taking 6-7 hours, thanks to some bizarre weather conditions, that I later found out, had affected other flights too.
Whatever the hiccups, I was in the Singapore National Stadium well ahead of time. Sound levels in the stadium were beyond anything I know. I can’t remember if it was my watch or my friend’s that showed ‘danger levels’ for sound exposure. It was thrilling. And the stage – my goodness, the stage was set up in true U2 style.
It felt almost like I was having an out of body experience. The tunes that were sung were all well-known. Everyone sang along. People screamed, danced, and sang their hearts out. The atmosphere was sizzling with the heat of U2’s magic. It was amazing.
I don’t think I’ll be going for another concert like this again. As much as the music pumped the ferocity of the blood running through my veins, I was painfully aware that my body was different, thanks to the progression of my long term illness. There were things I struggled with, which I wished I didn’t. Still, I’m thrilled to the bone that this was the concert that I managed to get to. If it’s to be my last big concert, this was simply the best way to go!
U2 was magic on that hot, sticky night in Singapore. The colours of the lights from the stage warmed my body. The tunes they churned gladdened my heart like an old friend popping by for an incredible chat. I’ll never forget this out of the world experience.
What’s a job you would like to do for just one day?
I’m not brave enough to do this, nor am I willing to give up anonymity, but if I could do something for just one day – it’d be to be a lead singer of a famous band and do a concert. I love the energy I see from the stars that do this. I love the lights and the grandiose arrangements of the sets. I love the way they connect with people- so many people, at one go. This is the best part, I’d think. So yes- to doing this for just one day! Then I’d like to crawl back into my life- with my pooch, family and friends and a whole lot of quieter creature comforts.
I’ve just had a very eventful morning. I had to go to the dentist today, for the third part of a painful root canal. This was most unfortunate, because a former filling had cracked, and a cavity had set in somewhat sneakily. Sneaky because I never felt it until it was too late. The filling protected me from pain, which would actually have been a good thing, as it would’ve acted as a warning. As a result of this whole fiasco, the process has been a little fraught. There were some ‘suspicious’ swellings on my gum, which the dentist was worried about and the unholy word — ‘biopsy’ was mentioned. This has been at the back of my mind for some time. I’ve missed my father, because I’d have ordinarily had him to talk to about this. I hadn’t realized how anxious I’d been until I was given the ‘all clear’ today. I felt my body relax. It was magical!
I then turned my attention to the second problem this morning. As I was driving to the dentist, I heard a flappy sound. I thought something had got caught under my car, so when I parked, I had a look to see what it was. Lo, and behold, my car tyre was flat. There was an immediate sense of missing my dad when I realized the flat. My dad constantly kept an eye on my car and if the tyre had been slightly less inflated, he’d have said. The pang that I felt within me was real. Still, I knew exactly what to do. I called the mechanic in our town, who’s known me since I was about six. He and his sister faithfully served my dad. He said he needed some time to get to me as he was out. No problem.
I decided to get a Grabcar back home while waiting for the mechanic as he did say he’d be late. Again, I was thankful, as I got a ride almost immediately. The driver was grumpy and in all honesty, I didn’t care much for him. It didn’t matter too much, though. I couldn’t wait to get into the house for that effusive Gamora-welcome I knew was awaiting me. That’s when it hit me. I’d left my house keys in the car. My first response was to start and call out ‘Pa..’ That pang hit me again. Papa’s not there.
Everything worked out in that, I got another Grabcar back to where my car was parked, picked up my keys and came home. It’s almost comical, when I think of it. Is this the moment when I’m officially ‘over the hill’?
Gamora’s greeting was brilliant. It was so much needed. The outpouring of love is unmissable. She knows what it’s like to miss.
Easter Sunday had been surprisingly difficult. In the middle of my church, as the service started, I felt the enormity of not having my mum and dad by me. It took a lot of effort on my part to blink back tears. Not that I think tears are inappropriate. I just didn’t want to have to explain them, nor did I want to hear remonstrations of why that feeling was so inappropriate on Easter Sunday. After all, I believe that Jesus’ resurrection means a resurrection of all believers when He comes again. I should’ve been rejoicing and singing out loud, glorying in every single word of praise of my Redeemer. Instead, I was inwardly sad, blinking back tears, and have been in the dumps since.
When I’m sad, I find myself watching some of the Jane Austen adaptations over and over again. I love the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice (1995), I love the many adaptations of Persuasion, and I love Sense and Sensibility with Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet. My familiarity with the dialogue of all of these is somewhat comforting. There’s another dialogue that I find comforting as I watch these. Dialogue with my mum about these books and some of the adaptations that we watched together. I remember such intense discussions, giggling, and just a sheer sense of enjoyment, that feels almost tangible, as I revisit these haunts.
Still, this wave of missing my dad and my mum is washing over me. I cannot adequately express how sadness feels. When the wave comes over me, I feel my senses overcome, and it’s almost as if I’ve been sucker-punched. There’s a sense of difficulty in breathing, and a definite burning in the eyes as tears bitterly push their way out. At the same time, all around me, I see land. There’s a buzz going on. Life on land doesn’t stop. I hear laughter from the land on one corner, some gibber jabber of sorts, all the sounds associated with life moving on. When the wave comes over me, I feel like I lose sight of land.
The only thing I don’t really lose sight of is God. This feels almost inconsistent, doesn’t it? How can someone who’s feeling this intensity of sadness, see God?
I’ve been contemplating on the event Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, as I’m preparing for an elective on grief for church camp that’s just around the corner. The passage is rich with many, many different points to look at, but for the longest time ever, I’ve been fascinated with John 11:35, which simply says ‘Jesus wept.’ It’s hard to fathom why He’d weep. I mean, he’d just said to Martha, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.’ I doubt very much that Jesus needed to be reminded of the gospel point, considering He was, and still is the gospel point!
I believe that Jesus is fully God and fully man. It’s not easy to explain this — it’s not a 50/50 case of God/man or a two in one sort of effect. I lack the eloquence to explain this, though it makes sense to me, deep in my bones. He had to be human, because He took my sin on the cross. I don’t always hold myself in high-esteem and often have to work on issues of self-doubt, but I’m terribly sure that a lamb, no matter how fat or cute (or whatever the standard is), cannot be an equal substitute for me. I am of far more value than it. There is nothing it can do to be sufficient to pay for anything I’ve done. My understanding of human nature, limited as it is, sufficiently demonstrates to me that we really don’t have the best thoughts all the time. We’re not deeply good or pure. Our motives, our words, and actions, betray us, even when we try our best. We’re fallen creatures. It makes sense to me, that only someone pure, far greater than us, can take our place should they want to protect us from the punishment we truly deserve. To this end, from the depths of my heart, I can see why Jesus’ death for us was the one perfect sacrifice. Legally, it makes sense that He can say when believers die, that He has paid for their souls. He demands justice for us. Why He did it when He really didn’t have to, tells me how superior His love is for us.
This is the same Jesus who wept, just before He raised Lazarus. He wept not because He didn’t understand the gospel or the impact of what He came to do. He wept because He was deeply saddened by the sorrow that we go through when we lose. He knew that our understanding of His work, even when it’s being preached to us on Easter Sunday or on any other Sunday, or when it’s screaming out at us from the words of Scripture, doesn’t remove the pain of the loss we feel. His weeping just before He raises Lazararus, is, I think, an outpouring of compassion and sadness that He feels for us because of the brokenness of the world. In His perfect human state, He’s able to reach into the emotion of pain and despair that we sometimes feel the need to shield ourselves from. In His perfect human state, his anguish is brutal. In His perfect God state, He shows a compassion so deep and is moved to tears for the plight of humanity as it grapples with the pain of loss. In His perfect God state, He foresees the pain of separation that the Trinity is about to face, when He dies for us upon the cross.
It is all too much to take in. As I remember these truths, I feel strength within me. I feel revived. My father and mother aren’t with me, but, my LORD is. I don’t have to blink back tears when I’m with Him. I don’t have to smile and say that I’m okay, even when I’m not. I don’t have to gauge how He’s doing before I drop my load on to Him. He’s strong enough to take it. Strangely, as I think about Him, I feel a sense of joy within, knowing that it was my mum and dad, who grew me in Him by His grace. This piece of shared history between us doesn’t end with their passing because He is very much alive. So, I am most grateful for Jesus, and for how He wept. He’s given me space for my tears, which thanks to His sacrifice, are only temporary.
Papa and mummy, whether it’s the dentist, or conversations with the mechanic about how we all were in the past, or at family gatherings, or whether it’s in the middle of full church on a Sunday, where I am surrounded by lots of familiar and loving faces, I still miss you. I miss you. I’m so grateful that in Christ, I can feel these waves of grief, which connect me to you, without them drowning me.
It’s Good Friday today (18 April, 2025). Christians all over the world will be reminding themselves of Jesus’ crucifixion that took place on that wicked hill called Golgotha, ever so long ago. This morning, I went to church — which was a bit of a feat in itself, because I’ve hurt my back. Before you give me any sympathy, let me just say that I’ve hurt my back out of sheer stupidity and I’m not impressed. As I attempted moving a full bucket of water with my foot, I was telling myself not to do it. It’s hard to explain — it felt a bit like a horror show, watching myself not listen to the voice of sense that was screaming from inside my brain, and attempt the act which I’ve already described. I had to walk sideways, holding on to the outer walls of my house to get inside, grab my car keys, and drive through the pain to see a doctor. Thankfully, I’m so much better already. I’m not sure how quickly I’ll recover over my own stupidity, though!
There were three reflections in church and friends have been forwarding all sorts of messages about Good Friday. One friend in a group of ladies I read the Bible with shared one that was particularly hard hitting. It reminded us all the Judas sat at the same table as Jesus and the other apostles and our Lord showed him love. This is devastatingly shocking to read, because we know that Jesus knew who His betrayer was. The little WhatsApp share also reminded us how we’re all sinners — like Judas! That’s hard to take.
The Bible’s constantly going on about the prophecies about Jesus. The accuracy of the Psalms that refer to His character, His death, and even His resurrection is pretty stunning. We looked at Psalm 22: 1- 18 and Isaiah 52: 13 – 53:12 in church today. I’m constantly blown away, when I consider the way Jesus is described, not just as the long-suffering servant, but the Man of Sorrows, and unlike king David who’s described as ruddy, handsome, with beautiful eyes (1 Samuel 16:12), Jesus is described appallingly. Imagine this — we’re told that Jesus’ appearance is ‘marred, beyond human semblance,’ (Isaiah 52:14) and that ‘he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, no beauty that we should desire him’ (Isaiah 53: 2). The contrast to king David is unmissable.
However, David (whom I like very much), as good looking and majestic as he is, and with the kind of frenzied support he had, didn’t treat people so well all the time. For starters, there’s that whole episode of lusting after Bathsheba, who was already married to Uriah. David stops at nothing to get the woman he wants — which includes ensuring that Uriah, who was a faithful servant to him, is killed in battle (2 Samuel 11). David was also a pretty rubbish father to his daughter when she needed him the most (2 Samuel 13). David didn’t deal with his son Amnon who raped his daughter Tamar. This injustice causes David’s son Absalom to rise up against him and this eventually leads to Absalom’s death (2 Samuel 18). So much for majesty, riches, being a powerful warrior, and being so good looking!
So, years later, when Jesus arrives — born in extremely humble circumstances, the scene is set for the contrast. Jesus grew up in a small, insignificant place called Nazareth. In fact, in John 1:46, Nathaniel’s response when he first hears about Jesus is ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’ We’re also told that people took offence at Jesus — after all, He was the carpenter’s son (Matthew 13: 53 – 58 and Mark 6: 1-6). Suffice to say, such responses combined with some of the prophecies that spoke about Jesus in such appalling ways inform us that His majesty, His beauty, His power — were all hidden. He truly did humble Himself to come into this world to die for us.
Despite this, Jesus, unlike David, does something that David or none of us can do. He humbled Himself and embraced the man that would work with conspirators to lead Him to His death. He didn’t chase Judas away. Rather, He allowed Judas to sit at that table, washed his feet, and let him eat in His presence so that you and I won’t be cast away from that table. Because Jesus let Judas lead Him to His death willingly, He fulfilled the demands of God’s law and obtained justice for those who believe in Him. We have a place at the table because of Good Friday.
As I reflect on Good Friday and Easter Sunday, the death and resurrection of Jesus, I am overwhelmed by the magnitude of the gift. I know I am a sinner. I know that I’m not easy to love. This is true for all of us. Yet, Jesus died for such as us. This comforts me as I think about my own mum and dad. They brought me up believing in Jesus and they died believing in Him. The events of Good Friday and Easter Sunday inform me that one day, I will see them again, when we are united in Jesus’ Kingdom. The Bible tells us that He will return in glory (Matthew 24:30). That will be a sight to behold.
Papa and mummy, I miss you both so much at times like these. It was so wonderful to have conversations with you about all these things that truly mattered. Thank God for Good Friday and Easter. Christ died for us and He rose again.
Describe one positive change you have made in your life.
I started walking some years ago- and it’s been a really good thing. I take my little dog with me now, and we go to lovely parks. I enjoy the timeout in the mornings – and it does wonders for the mood (and health!). Love it.
Grace for the soul 