Sunday, 12 April 2020

jc

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.

Wednesday, 8 April 2020

hitched

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.

Friday, 3 April 2020

pandemic

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.

Wednesday, 1 April 2020

sleepless in sydney

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.