When I purchased these stocking hangers last year - they were only available in sets of three and I needed four. I begrudgingly ordered twin packs and wondered what I’d do with the remainders. Little did I know, we would become a family of six by next Christmas!
When I bought my first car in 2002, my best friend gifted me a bubblegum-scented car freshener. It was a happy fragrance. We loved the smell and were disappointed when the brand was discontinued.
For 16 years, I checked every auto spare shop I came across in search of that sweet scent, but to no avail. Until today, when I accidentally spilled my drink in the car and had to rush to the closest car wash to get it cleaned. I was in a foul mood by the time I got to the counter, and then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it hanging on the stand next to the till. My day got a whole lot better.
To be honest, it doesn’t smell as good as my memory of it, and it is starting to give me a headache (I must be getting old), but my first thought was how happy Caz would have been if she knew that I had found our fragrance again.
Rainbows are beautiful and fun to look at because they seem to just appear out of nowhere. As such, they hold some kind of magical and mysterious quality about them. Scientifically, a rainbow is just an optical illusion.
The rainbow's ability to deliver joy is surely why it’s painted on children's cheeks at school fetes and fun fairs. Why it’s found on birthday cakes and toys. Why it’s featured in stories, poetry, songs and other literature. Why it’s an element of folklore across different nations and cultures, generally signifying a connection to God or the heavens.
This multicoloured arch is believed to be God’s everlasting promise to us and is a symbol of what theologians call God’s common grace - the grace he shows to all mankind.
Trying to explain Christian doctrine to those who don't believe in God is almost like dancing in the street. People would think that you were crazy. Or worse, they'd assume you were ignorant, that if you had sat through a philosophy class or maybe even thought logically, then you'd realise that God didn't exist.
Fair enough. Jesus was radical, and some thought that he was insane because he declared that he was God. Jesus didn’t fight off the Roman soldiers when they arrested him, but by his Father’s will, he sacrificed himself and died on the cross. Jesus was buried, and he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures.
Now, I know that some people don't take the Bible as fact. There are claims that the disciples wrote a bunch of biased fiction just to trick people into following this Jesus dude. I guess it's likely. But who do you know that would die for a lie since almost all of the disciples were brutally executed even though they had the chance to backpedal on their beliefs to live?
It’s a privilege to be able to read prophecies that were recorded thousands of years before Jesus came into the world and then see how they were fulfilled on the cross where Jesus died. It's incredible how God's plan followed through from start to finish – and then begins its work in me. He is graciously pruning and molding me in his character.
I'm still far from perfect; just ask my family, who’s stuck in quarantine with me. I can be selfish, grumpy, impatient, quick to anger (this list could go on for a while). Instead of punishing me for being such a flawed person, God sent his only Son to die for me. That is love that I cannot fathom or deserve. It's a pity that Jesus is judged by his fan club because most of us do really stupid things and give him a bad name.
I’m a poor representation of Christ because I frequently divert from the straight and narrow path. Rather than walking faithfully in the light with God, I often hide in the dark and play in the mud. I’m grateful for his immeasurable grace and endless love, despite my unfaithful heart and appalling behaviour.
The movie Hitch introduced the theory of creating a window of opportunity to make a good impression on someone you fancy, but you only have one shot at it. I don't believe that you only get one chance; though timing is crucial.
When I was younger, I thought that everyone in the world was paired up with another person. I believed that my predestined soulmate was connected to me by an invisible string of fate, so no matter what, we would find each other in the end. That’s a poetic notion, but it’s boring and predictable.
Every pursuit of love begins with a dating game, ergo, should involve some form of chasing. When seeking a partner, most of us hope for that initial spark that ignites and creates fireworks between two strangers. This effortless attraction feels magical, magnetic and addictive.
How do you know when it hits you? The eyes are the best storytellers. Eyes don’t lie, they will give anyone away. When there is real chemistry between two people, it reflects in their gaze.
I’m a hopeless romantic, but my husband isn’t. I remember falling hard and fast after our first encounter and immediately claimed him to be “The One.” Unfortunately, the feeling was not mutual, but I eventually tricked him into marrying me.
When I was a kid, I played outside with my two siblings and a dozen cousins. We rode our bikes around the neighborhood, walked our dogs and climbed the mulberry tree. My memories of those carefree days remain glowing and sweet.
During this challenging chapter, I appreciate the vast amount of time that I have with my family. I’m also incredibly thankful for the simple pleasures in life, such as the warm sun on my face in the middle of Autumn and the sound of my children’s laugh during a chasing game.
Ten years from now, I hope that my daughters will look back and remember our family scenic walks and playing tips with their mummy on a big green oval.
Sleeplessness isn't just a condition in Seattle. I lie awake every night, wrestling with my thoughts. I have this old, nagging feeling that lingers in the back of my mind, similar to that sinking feeling I get when I miss an important call and realise that the moment has passed. Poor timing, as per usual. It's also like how my anxiety level increases when I lose my phone. No big deal - it’s not like a truckload of people are desperately trying to contact me, yet I can’t rest until I’ve located it.
That curious, niggling, persistent feeling that I can’t shake off. It’s not prickly or sharp; it's round, stubborn, and sticky. Not big enough to be an annoyance, nor is it an itch that I’m dying to scratch, but lodged just in the right spot to border on bothersome. Like a light bruise on my arm that only aches when pressed but doesn't hurt on its own.
Perhaps my temporary insomnia is due to the national quarantine. I’m delirious from cabin fever, and my suffering may be imagined or real, but it’s nonetheless exhausting. Writing is therapeutic and a healthy outlet for me. After a messy mental spill, something indescribable in my heart loosens and settles; then I can relax and finally close my weary eyes.
It was love at first sight, but you belonged to someone else. You were the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on. I didn’t even know your name.
Twelve years later, I finally have you in my arms.
This is the story of how I met my favourite dress.
When a friend purchases an item that you also like, you must resist and practise good retail etiquette by waiting, as it is impolite to copy. You need to give it some time before quietly acquiring the same piece. Sadly, I waited too long, and my dream dress was sold out. Years flew by; Review clothing rebranded from their vintage green labels to the pastel pink tags, and even after thousands of releases and styles later, that classic dress never left my mind. There were other garments that I adored, but none could capture my heart the same way.
I never got over that elegant gown; it totally frocked me up, and I thought that I would never see it again. Until one fateful night when we reunited on the wonderful World Wide Web, a magical place called eBay.
Sometimes I question why we hung on when it would have been so easy to scratch us off as a bad bet, an unlikely pair, and a doomed romance. When breaking up was a feasible, or even a desirable option, under the green exit light with a 'not meant to be' neon sign.
It still baffles me as to why you stayed when my immaturity and pettiness spiralled out of control and stabbed you without mercy. When I wore attitude and irrationality that weaved like ribbons in my hair, threatening to strangle you before you could respond. When I pressed and punched your buttons, yanked and pulled your tolerance chain like a raging pit bull. When I pushed your patience to new levels and showed no trace of godliness. When my craziness almost drowned us, you persevered and lifted me up for air.
By God’s sovereignty and strength, He sustained and carried us through every good and bad fight we ever had, every speed bump, every pang of jealousy, insecurity, or moment of doubt that came our way. By God’s grace, we got a glimpse of our future instead of just wondering what we could have been. Maybe wondering is like looking a gift horse in the mouth. My gift is you, make no mistake. You are my true north, voice of reason, leader, and best friend. You’re the Han to my Leia, Marshall to my Lily, mate to my soul, and the happily ever after to my ending.
Thank you for pursuing me daily and for always chasing my heart. I might be hard to love at times, and being married to me is probably not easy, but it’s certainly fun.
Happy 9th wedding anniversary, RD!