Yeah, I know I haven't been blogging here actively compared to my Multiply account. I wonder if I should just switch everything to multiply? Well, I have my LiveJournal account as well to handle. It's all pretty much cut and paste. It's just that this blog has been with me for the better and worse of the past three years. Recently alotta emotions have gone through my heart for the past two weeks. Nothing serious, just a lot of reflecting, alot of tears and getting over things concerning someone who used to be [and I think still is] special in my life. Well, please read about it HERE. I promise to write more here. After all, this blog was where everything about writing started. How could I leave pitas?

It's currently 1.45am here in Liverpool. I know I should be off to bed soon lest the sun rises before I can shut my eyes, but I just cant resist blogging at this very moment and capture the emotion and atmosphere that I felt after watching the three last series of Sex and The City in the living room.

A short recap: Everyone has their own lives now. Carrie makes the move to Paris to stay with the great Alexandr Protovski (did I spell that correct?) and realises that maybe she misses her ex-boyfriend more plus the fact that now in Paris, she's all alone and her best mates are in Manhattan, New York. Many things happen and at last we find our talented columnist back in New York with her ex-boyfriend and her friends. Along the way we see her best mates take a good turn in their lives too - one finds that she has the capacity as a wife to finally accept her husband's mother who suffers from dementia, another finds a child in China is coming to be adopted by her, the other friend who suffers from breast cancer finally realises that she loves her toy-boy and loves him like she's never loved anyone before in her whole life.

It's a good ending to a great show. Somehow, for the past week, talking about someone that I loved deeply and still love has made me realise many things. Talking to someone about him and learning that that someone too has person whom can't be forgotten completely makes me realise things too.

In life, so many things can happen. Sometimes, love likes to elude us just within our very grasp of our fingers and one moment you've caught hold of it and yet the other moment it slips right through them again. It doesn't sadden me anymore as I recall this for these past few days, more like reliving those happy moments when I thought, "What if he really...?" It was never meant to be, but to indulge in a girly fantasy and be blissfully hopeful feels nice.

I don't think I will ever forget what it feels like to have tingles down your spine when you hear someone strum a guitar and sing to you. Somehow, that memory can't be replaced and I ain't going to look for another who can sing equally or better than that to fill that memory. Every moment is sacred and eternal and comparing doesn't help anyone.

I would like to dedicate this journal to all the girls / guys who are in love, who have loved and who are yet to love. There's someone out there for each and everyone of us. Maybe some of us prefer a guy who is responsible, secure and mature; there are some of us here who would prefer a guy whom we can protect with our love and assurance and we feel all warm and fuzzy when at the end of the day he comes back for comfort and attention; yet there are some who prefer a man who gives us the freedom yet fiercely devotes his attention to our needs without us knowing; there are some hopeless romantics out there too who just wants a man who loves us desperately everyday and can't do without us; some prefer a best friend.

Whatever it is your preference, here's to all of you! Love aint easy and never was easy. We all know that universal truth and sometimes... love hurts too. Sometimes lady luck smiles on us and we know we've found that person. Other times, we find that person and find he/she is out of our grasp or control and we have to learn to let go. There are some of us, who have yet to find that special someone.

There will come a time when our turn comes, when we too will share the limelight. We will be able to love and be loved. Life is full of hope and joy because [I hold to this truth every day] that God created man and woman - a symbol of union - meaning that no one was intended to be lonely in this world. We all await for that prince charming, that cinderella or Snow White to appear in our lives.

And wait we shall.

      My visit to Manchester was really the crowning event after the Chester trip. I managed to explore a city at my own pace and my own time. We arrived at 8am in the morning and proceeded to trudge around the city at a leisurely pace until near 7pm where we boarded the bus back happy and contented although tired.

      What made Manchester so special to me? It definitely wasn't the Starbucks visit in the morning nor was it the visit to Old Trafford. It wasn't even the beautiful shopping malls that were sprawled around the city.

      I will always remember those small bits that help make my memory of Manchester priceless. We chanced upon a wedding service at the cathedral in town. Although we weren't allowed into the church itself, we could stand near the door and look through the glass into the occasion. I will carry with me the memory of a group of people who were gathered and sitting in attention in the ceremony, how the choir sang like a group of divine angels and the growing brightness of the late afternoon sun that spilled into the building. Later that day, I returned determined to catch a glimspe of the newlyweds and my patience was rewarded as I managed to see them standing in the lawn taking photos with family and friends. They say every bride is beautiful and I saw that it was true. There she was, leaning on her husband's shoulder proud and happy to be married. Her smile was sweet and radiant as she held onto her life partner. Her husband not to be outdone was the picture of happiness as he too held her tightly for dear life. Beautiful... that moment, I the hopeless romantic shared in the matrimonial bliss of an unknown couple together with the many people who stopped to savour this sacred moment as well.

      Urbis stood out for me in Manchester as more than a futuristic glass building. It inspired me to look at urban living and strip away the stereotype of calling the life that I have known for the past 23 years as hectic. Have I looked at the homeless on the streets? Have I realised how many simple things in life matter much to children who will continue our legacy in the future? As I looked at the scrawled letters written by children at the Make A Wish exhibition, simple things like wanting free dance and music lessons, having more playgrounds and schools... were not as simple as they let on to be. Where did our society go wrong? When did we allow drugs to marr that simple innocence that was displayed through our children's writing? Imagine if those simple requirements were met and children were given a wholesome living right from the very start and isolated from violence and hatred... things would have been different. It was here, at Urbis I celebrated citylife and it made me proud to have my say written on a sticky note and post it on the walls together with the many notes left behind by locals and visitors alike.

      Bella Italia - a memorable place for me in terms of food. As the evening drew near, I stopped by the busy Italian restaurant for a cuppa. Ordered two macchiatoes and the dessert that took my breath away - The Godfather. Imagine that at the bottom a base made of Amoretti biscuits drenched in chocolate sauce and liquor together with big chunks of chocolate brownies, on top of that two generous scoops of coffee and vanilla gelato sprinkled with big chopped pieces of dark chocolate, the ice-cream drowned in a mass of sweet and light whipped cream just enough to make the chocolate not too sweet and last but not least...two oval pieces of light bisquit flanking the concoction on the left and on the right. Simply put... superb!

      Perhaps my memory of Manchester doesn't sound exactly that great. It doesn't sound like I did much anyway. But the difference was I explored Manchester with a worthy partner. We strolled down the streets at a good pace that was neither too rushed nor too lazed and we slowly soaked in the atmosphere. We were inspired to strive for our nation at Urbis, we became hopeless romantics as we saw the wedding, we turned into ravenous and enthralled food lovers at Bella Italia. My good fortune indeed to romp the streets of Manchester with a companion who loved the things I loved, who enjoyed a quiet cuppa in the evening, who understood that it was the small things in life that needed to be appreciated in order to piece together the big picture in life.

      I won't deny that there were some unpleasant moments during that day that threatened to spoil the mood of travelling but I am thankful that all worked out well. Every man (or woman in this case) to themselves. There were individuals who did make unwise decisions but yet things worked out well in the end.

      Saturday's trip ended with other things as well. It ended with a feeling that things aren't as bad as they seem. I ended the day feeling like how Anne in Anne of Green Gables felt, that there are "kindred spirits" around me. The reason why I missed Malaysia so much wasn't because there was a particular person or group of people I missed. It's not that easy to quantify. I miss Malaysia because I felt significant there, I felt that I had an identity there. Here, my identity is just temporary.

      It was a good way to end the night on Saturday. I would have never imagined myself talking about things in my past that easily to someone whom I have just known for less than a year (strictly speaking) but somehow... as we talked into the night, I think there was a mutual consent and understanding between the two of us that we understood. There is this age-old universal theory that two people can be quite different and quite alike in many ways or over the same issue. However, true friendship comes in and makes sure that these differences never become a source of conflict or strife. Lately, I have heard many thing about many people. I seem to have accidently become a receiving end for many things, issues and secrets. Sometimes, I wonder why me?

      If I am to just listen and not react, I would feel that what my friends need is a recorder or a teddy bear. I am human as well. You cannot expect me to be idle and ignore the things I might hear or see and stand aside. I have emotions and I have a heart. Sometimes, when two sides are demanding your trust and allegiance in a sense, being neutral hurts a whole lot more than choosing sides.

      I choose to trust my heart. I have a past and trusting a person is something that has never come easy for me. That's what happens when too many people hurt you in too many incidents before you get a chance to even grow out of your hormones. It makes you wary and careful and observant. I am a certified people-watcher and I love to formulate my own opinions of people and of the things I see and hear.

      I have watched and I have seen. I refuse to be a part of any conspiracy or agreement. I'd rather recall the moments in the living room where everyone is seemingly happy with each other and trading jokes over dinner. But underneath that layer, there are unresolved conflicts, there are friends who hang that Friend label on when its appropriate and dump it when it is convenient. There are people who refuse to resolve conflict or use that as an excuse to voice our their distrust when sometimes the only way to solve it is to face it and not to ignore it. I wonder why it hurts me to see all this because if I were to be brutally honest at this moment:

      It's none of my business.

      But somehow, there's a part of me that refuses to stop caring. Friendship is extremely important to me. Sincerity matters and honesty is number one in any relationship I hold in this life.

      [Perhaps, my friend, that is why I will value that late-night talk that lasted until 4am in the morning. It was a time where both of us threw away boundaries and laid our cards honestly on the table. We're not saints but we both value honesty even if it means being ugly about it eventually. That is our identity. The identity that we possessed in Malaysia and the identity we yearn to practice here in Liverpool as well. Regrettedly sometimes, it is hard to find more of that in other lives. But it was good, at least we have someone to understand us. Life isn't that unbearable if you can have at least one friend who accepts you for who you are, who ticks you off when you need it and makes your bed for you when you're sick.]

      Malaysia feels a whole world closer after Manchester. I feel understood finally. Thanks mate.

      I remember what it felt like growing up as a child. I had a reasonably well childhood, the fact that my parents were divorced never really bothered me when I was in primary school. I sailed through those first six years there being one of the top students, enjoyed life with my classmates and proceeded into my teens full of dreams and a lot of ideals. Upon entering secondary school, I realised that the world is full of people who are hurt. I saw girls who got themselves pregnant and dropped out of school before they finished their Form Five studies. A guy from the school next door was battered and hospitalised because he defended a friend against some Malays and revenge waited for him after school with long and hard iron rods.

      I began to feel limited. I didn't seem to measure up to mother's standard. Everything was limited by her words. Pick up a shirt and be slightly adventurous and she would go, "You'd look horrible in that!" or "You sure you would like that?" Every time you wanted to go out with your mates and you've assured her that there would be someone picking you up and sending you back via car, she would say "No" at the last minute. Why? "Because I said no, and that's final." So eventually you get used to growing up in that environment where your mother is a hard disciplinarian and just makes simple comments like, "That's good" when you get great results in your subjects in school.

      Form Six was a nightmare because you suddenly find yourself realising that maybe you aren't so academically inclined for studying to become a doctor. So when you ring home hoping to get a comforting something from mother, you hear, "What? No A's? I'm disappointed in you." When you eventually get over the shock and arrive home at the doorstep, you hear news of a friend's daughter getting excellent results. Mother asked me if I was joking about my results and you say no. Again, "I'm disappointed in you. What have you been doing in your Form Six?"

      College was even worse I suppose. It was a highly competitive place where I felt swallowed up. The first year was all right because I could still catch up. But the subsequent two years were a massive effort for me to hold onto anything to sustain me and keep me going. I lost part of the battle and settled for less. However, that wedged in yet another rift between mother and I. "You're not trying hard enough, you know you can do it if you wanted to." For a period, I really believed I could and I tried and tried with all my might. In the end, I realised my potential lied somewhere else - journalism. Science was a passion but nothing could fulfill me more than to write.

      Again, I let people down. This time, my aunt called up and told me that because "...you don't have a degree in journalism, how can you call yourself a journalist, let alone a reporter?" That cut. That cut really deep. Furthermore, thanks to circumstances in college, found myself at the wrath of mother regarding failing a subject. Christianity got blamed because of that and I felt rejected for life. "You are so useless like your dad"

      Why must I revisit my past and talk about it? Because I realise that everyone of us has a past that we don't like to talk about. We all have some wounds in the past that we would all just like to ignore and pretend that they weren't there in the first place.

      Due to the rejection and loneliness I felt as I grew up under my mother's shadow, I had accumulated a lot of resentment and distrust to figures of authority. I grew up with a sense that I needed to try my hardest to please everyone including God. Whenever I couldn't finish my assignments or homework, I would stress myself out - cry - get a migraine - cry - sleep. Whenever I met with a problem and I dealt with it badly, my self-rejection made me feel even more depressed.

      I have contemplated suicide many times in my life. All of those times came from moments of rejection and disappointment. I remember bashing my knuckles against a tree trunk for the sweet pain to relieve the cut inside of me. I bit myself before to stop the tears. I bashed the walls with my bare knuckles to release my anger. I became bullimic for a period of time because it made me feel like I was in control.

      When it came to God, I was always afraid that God would hate me or forsake me when I screwed up. I was always suspicious or apprehensive with my spiritual leaders and friends in church. Were they really so nice? Did they really care that much for me? Can I trust a God that loves me no matter what? Can I learn to forgive myself? I realised that all of us who were hurt - physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually - carry doubt within us after that incident of hurting. That pain that in the past would have drove a person to God now ironically drives people away from Church and God.

      We live in an age where we would rather continue to seek comfort in friends and relationships than to really address the problem. We are at the point of our civilisation where technology has taken us all over the globe through the internet and yet we feel the loneliest. We forget for others to forgive us we must first exercise forgiveness. We drown in our own bitterness because things don't seem to improve and get worse when what we really should do is get ourselves out of that negative spell and be bigger than that situation. We go through rollercoaster rides of commitment - recommitment - commitment - recommitment over the same things that plague us over and over again. Have you promised yourself to be more loving? Have you told yourself repeatedly to be more patient and kind? Have you promised God to love Him over and over again until you begin to feel dry inside?

      Sometimes, the very things that we petition God to change in us are very simple - punctuality, alertness, wisdom, maturity, illnessess, habits, addictions, principles, mindsets, jaded-thinking etc, are simple indeed in nature to some. However, the process God takes to change us has never been simple and never will be.

      The Israelites went through a burning hot desert, ran from captors through the parting of the red sea, received the 10 Commandments, wandered for 40 years in the desert, crossed into the Promised Land and battled at Jericho, conquered the land and settled in to enjoy every single one of God's promises. Was it a journey of a pleasant nature? It wasn't. Every man except for Caleb and Joshua died a death in the desert. Every family then lost a husband and a father. Many died for idolatry. Some were swallowed up by the earth, others of plague and stoning.

      If things weren't easy for the Israelites, can we expect things to be easy for us?

      I used to be a very cynical person. I would be so impatient to wait for God's promises that my emotions would slip and slide and escalate every now and then. One moment I would be praising God and the other I would be begging Him to speak to me. When I felt trapped in my situations with my mother, I had two choices - either I continued to believe in God's will or wallow in self-pity and sef-rejection. I realised that even friendships can be unsatisfying comparing to clinging onto God. Close Christian friends could help and spiritual leaders are nearby, but the decision to stand up and grow out of a bad situation is in our hands. No one can make that decision for us. Jesus called to the woman at the well, she could have chosen to walk away. How many times have we walked away despite knowing in our hearts that God isn't pleased?

      This entry is for you - the one who feels hurt. The one who can't seem to lift yourself out of the situation you are in. You could have brought it onto yourself and suffered rejection and disappointment. Maybe you can't even stare into the mirror without recalling the things you did. You could be born into a family which demands much of you and you resent it. Your parents despise the fact that you don't want to become the fantastic son/daughter that the next door neighbours have. Maybe you've been hurt by a friend or you don't seem to get the response or feedback you desire.

      Do you feel rejected? Do you feel tired, jaded? Don't.

      Personally, as a Christian, even I went through moments where I had to make a hard, but visible choice. Set aside the pain and walk in the victorious life God has promised me. When I was rejected by loved ones, I chose instead to receive love from God. It felt lonely at times and unbearable at some point, but sometimes when you do the right thing, you need to do it ALONE. Sometimes, in order to live in the fullness of God, we need to draw a line between our present and future. We need to step over that boundary and choose to kill and crucify those things in us that hinder us from our destiny. We often feel wronged, we feel like our parents, friends and the rest of the world owes us an apology and we have every right to feel bad. You are right. You do. But you can choose to stop dwelling in that area and allow God to humble you and bring you on another path.

      I want to be a leader and heal those who are hurt. But how can I if I don't learn to step away from the pain and learn to deal with it like an adult? How can I lead those who are lost if I frequently get lost along the way as well? We all take God for granted don't we? We readily proclaim love for God and claim those blessings He promised in the Bible, yet we conveniently skip the next few verses where God says, "...if you serve other gods [read: things that draw you away from God], you will not be blessed." Not because God delights in punishing you. But by choosing your depression, your anger, your resentment, your addiction, your unforgiveness; you have chosen to disbelieve God's providence in your time of need. How can I say I love God if I am also hating someone? How can I say I serve God if I serve other areas in my life that don't deserve serving?

      As we mature in our faith, we can go to rally after rally, concert after concert and conference after conference. We can sit in church and wow over the pastor's preaching and be "divinely" inspired for a few hours. We can sing the latest songs from a favourite Christian band like any song on the radio without realising that its become just like any song on the radio already. We can worship God and God touches us and points out things in us that we hate to change.

      How many of us DO change? How many of us take the courage to commit and repent and stay that way? We congratulate ourselves with the amount of people becoming believers of God worldwide. Reality bites. Many Christian men and women out there don't make it and fail to live out God's plan for their lives. Why? Because they made choices.

      They had a choice. I have a choice, and so do you. I know its hard to battle it alone. But I promise you, if you are honest enough about it, if you are willing to change and stay changed, confide in someone. Make yourself accountable to God and have someone who will stay with you, guide you and make sure you are disciplined enough to want to changed by God. Change is never painless, I'm not going to lie to you about that. But the result of change is something you desire - a new you, a renewed you.

      It's one of those nights when my Christian writing is directed under the hands of God. May you be blessed with this piece. God is reaching out to you tonight.

      Embrace Him with abandon and receive His love.

           I'm 3/4 into a book that I couldn't help but buying from Wesley Owen at St. John's - The Cross and The Switchblade. A true account of preacher Davie Wilkerson who went into the hearts of gang-ridden, dangerous New York to preach the gospel into the lives of lonely, fearful and insecure youths who knew only the dangers of switchblades and knew not the comfort of God's "no-strings attached" love.

      I've never been a gang, never been so bad that I ran with boys and had random sex parties, never had a "main-stream" of drugs inserted straight into my left arm, never slept in a house where my mom was a drunk and I had to survive on a 7-cent Coke for breakfast, 15-cents hotdog for lunch and penny candies for the rest of the day. I was never in those situations.

      I've never been in the shoes of Nicky Cruz who would get crazed by the sight of blood, who would go mad and whack people (including his own homies) with a baseball bat in a gang fight. I've never felt like Maria, high on drugs and yet standing in the middle of the room moaning the words, "I'm too far gone to be saved."

      And yet, tonight. Through the words of a country preacher who just simply, and obediently followed the word of God to reach out to the children in the ghettoes, I stand afraid in a gang fight with Nicky. I feel that pang of loneliness and fear of Maria. I feel that sense of contempt for authorities that only love to label youngsters and say, "God, how I hate them!" I share that sense of bewilderment and agree that, "Davie, keep going, you're getting through. You got me bugged with this preaching of yours."

      This book sure has bugged me too.

      I remember what it felt like growing up as a child. I had a reasonably well childhood, the fact that my parents were divorced never really bothered me when I was in primary school. I sailed through those first six years there being one of the top students, enjoyed life with my classmates and proceeded into my teens full of dreams and a lot of ideals. Upon entering secondary school, I realised that the world is full of people who are hurt. I saw girls who got themselves pregnant and dropped out of school before they finished their Form Five studies. A guy from the school next door was battered and hospitalised because he defended a friend against some Malays and revenge waited for him after school with long and hard iron rods.

      I began to feel limited. I didn't seem to measure up to mother's standard. Everything was limited by her words. Pick up a shirt and be slightly adventurous and she would go, "You'd look horrible in that!" or "You sure you would like that?" Every time you wanted to go out with your mates and you've assured her that there would be someone picking you up and sending you back via car, she would say "No" at the last minute. Why? "Because I said no, and that's final." So eventually you get used to growing up in that environment where your mother is a hard disciplinarian and just makes simple comments like, "That's good" when you get great results in your subjects in school.

      Form Six was a nightmare because you suddenly find yourself realising that maybe you aren't so academically inclined for studying to become a doctor. So when you ring home hoping to get a comforting something from mother, you hear, "What? No A's? I'm disappointed in you." When you eventually get over the shock and arrive home at the doorstep, you hear news of a friend's daughter getting excellent results. Mother asked me if I was joking about my results and you say no. Again, "I'm disappointed in you. What have you been doing in your Form Six?"

      College was even worse I suppose. It was a highly competitive place where I felt swallowed up. The first year was all right because I could still catch up. But the subsequent two years were a massive effort for me to hold onto anything to sustain me and keep me going. I lost part of the battle and settled for less. However, that wedged in yet another rift between mother and I. "You're not trying hard enough, you know you can do it if you wanted to." For a period, I really believed I could and I tried and tried with all my might. In the end, I realised my potential lied somewhere else - journalism. Science was a passion but nothing could fulfill me more than to write.

      Again, I let people down. This time, my aunt called up and told me that because "...you don't have a degree in journalism, how can you call yourself a journalist, let alone a reporter?" That cut. That cut really deep. Furthermore, thanks to circumstances in college, found myself at the wrath of mother regarding failing a subject. Christianity got blamed because of that and I felt rejected for life. "You are so useless like your dad"



      Why must I revisit my past and talk about it? Because I realise that everyone of us has a past that we don't like to talk about. We all have some wounds in the past that we would all just like to ignore and pretend that they weren't there in the first place.

      Due to the rejection and loneliness I felt as I grew up under my mother's shadow, I had accumulated a lot of resentment and distrust to figures of authority. I grew up with a sense that I needed to try my hardest to please everyone including God. Whenever I couldn't finish my assignments or homework, I would stress myself out - cry - get a migraine - cry - sleep. Whenever I met with a problem and I dealt with it badly, my self-rejection made me feel even more depressed.

      I have contemplated suicide many times in my life. All of those times came from moments of rejection and disappointment. I remember bashing my knuckles against a tree trunk for the sweet pain to relieve the cut inside of me. I bit myself before to stop the tears. I bashed the walls with my bare knuckles to release my anger. I became bullimic for a period of time because it made me feel like I was in control.

      When it came to God, I was always afraid that God would hate me or forsake me when I screwed up. I was always suspicious or apprehensive with my spiritual leaders and friends in church. Were they really so nice? Did they really care that much for me? Can I trust a God that loves me no matter what? Can I learn to forgive myself? I realised that all of us who were hurt - physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually - carry doubt within us after that incident of hurting. That pain that in the past would have drove a person to God now ironically drives people away from Church and God.

      We live in an age where we would rather continue to seek comfort in friends and relationships than to really address the problem. We are at the point of our civilisation where technology has taken us all over the globe through the internet and yet we feel the loneliest. We forget for others to forgive us we must first exercise forgiveness. We drown in our own bitterness because things don't seem to improve and get worse when what we really should do is get ourselves out of that negative spell and be bigger than that situation. We go through rollercoaster rides of commitment - recommitment - commitment - recommitment over the same things that plague us over and over again. Have you promised yourself to be more loving? Have you told yourself repeatedly to be more patient and kind? Have you promised God to love Him over and over again until you begin to feel dry inside?

      Sometimes, the very things that we petition God to change in us are very simple - punctuality, alertness, wisdom, maturity, illnessess, habits, addictions, principles, mindsets, jaded-thinking etc, are simple indeed in nature to some. However, the process God takes to change us has never been simple and never will be.

      The Israelites went through a burning hot desert, ran from captors through the parting of the red sea, received the 10 Commandments, wandered for 40 years in the desert, crossed into the Promised Land and battled at Jericho, conquered the land and settled in to enjoy every single one of God's promises. Was it a journey of a pleasant nature? It wasn't. Every man except for Caleb and Joshua died a death in the desert. Every family then lost a husband and a father. Many died for idolatry. Some were swallowed up by the earth, others of plague and stoning.

      If things weren't easy for the Israelites, can we expect things to be easy for us?

      I used to be a very cynical person. I would be so impatient to wait for God's promises that my emotions would slip and slide and escalate every now and then. One moment I would be praising God and the other I would be begging Him to speak to me. When I felt trapped in my situations with my mother, I had two choices - either I continued to believe in God's will or wallow in self-pity and sef-rejection. I realised that even friendships can be unsatisfying comparing to clinging onto God. Close Christian friends could help and spiritual leaders are nearby, but the decision to stand up and grow out of a bad situation is in our hands. No one can make that decision for us. Jesus called to the woman at the well, she could have chosen to walk away. How many times have we walked away despite knowing in our hearts that God isn't pleased?

      This entry is for you - the one who feels hurt. The one who can't seem to lift yourself out of the situation you are in. You could have brought it onto yourself and suffered rejection and disappointment. Maybe you can't even stare into the mirror without recalling the things you did. You could be born into a family which demands much of you and you resent it. Your parents despise the fact that you don't want to become the fantastic son/daughter that the next door neighbours have. Maybe you've been hurt by a friend or you don't seem to get the response or feedback you desire.

      Do you feel rejected? Do you feel tired, jaded? Don't.

      Personally, as a Christian, even I went through moments where I had to make a hard, but visible choice. Set aside the pain and walk in the victorious life God has promised me. When I was rejected by loved ones, I chose instead to receive love from God. It felt lonely at times and unbearable at some point, but sometimes when you do the right thing, you need to do it ALONE. Sometimes, in order to live in the fullness of God, we need to draw a line between our present and future. We need to step over that boundary and choose to kill and crucify those things in us that hinder us from our destiny. We often feel wronged, we feel like our parents, friends and the rest of the world owes us an apology and we have every right to feel bad. You are right. You do. But you can choose to stop dwelling in that area and allow God to humble you and bring you on another path.

      I want to be a leader and heal those who are hurt. But how can I if I don't learn to step away from the pain and learn to deal with it like an adult? How can I lead those who are lost if I frequently get lost along the way as well? We all take God for granted don't we? We readily proclaim love for God and claim those blessings He promised in the Bible, yet we conveniently skip the next few verses where God says, "...if you serve other gods [read: things that draw you away from God], you will not be blessed." Not because God delights in punishing you. But by choosing your depression, your anger, your resentment, your addiction, your unforgiveness; you have chosen to disbelieve God's providence in your time of need. How can I say I love God if I am also hating someone? How can I say I serve God if I serve other areas in my life that don't deserve serving?

      As we mature in our faith, we can go to rally after rally, concert after concert and conference after conference. We can sit in church and wow over the pastor's preaching and be "divinely" inspired for a few hours. We can sing the latest songs from a favourite Christian band like any song on the radio without realising that its become just like any song on the radio already. We can worship God and God touches us and points out things in us that we hate to change.

      How many of us DO change? How many of us take the courage to commit and repent and stay that way? We congratulate ourselves with the amount of people becoming believers of God worldwide. Reality bites. Many Christian men and women out there don't make it and fail to live out God's plan for their lives. Why? Because they made choices.

      They had a choice. I have a choice, and so do you. I know its hard to battle it alone. But I promise you, if you are honest enough about it, if you are willing to change and stay changed, confide in someone. Make yourself accountable to God and have someone who will stay with you, guide you and make sure you are disciplined enough to want to changed by God. Change is never painless, I'm not going to lie to you about that. But the result of change is something you desire - a new you, a renewed you.

      It's one of those nights when my Christian writing is directed under the hands of God. May you be blessed with this piece. God is reaching out to you tonight.

      Embrace Him with abandon and receive His love.

      As I gaze out my window from my room, I realise with delight that I just started my last module in John Moores University, which means I have two more weeks, exams, and then settle my dissertation; before you know it, I'LL BE BACK IN MALAYSIA!!!

      Isn't that absolutely, outrageously wonderful? I am certainly looking forward to going back to beautiful Malaysia and seeing everyone - my family, my friends and my church. I miss World Harvest Church terribly eventhough I am learning a lot at Frontline Church. After all, WHC is my home and my heart will always be there until further notice from God!

      On a more serious thought, I just finished reading a testimony of God's calling for a good friend of mine. Needless to say, I am once again blown away on how God loves to use people and simple circumstances to pull us aside from our daily routines and speak to us. It is always a breathtaking experience when God speaks to us, our burning bush, our whale that Jonah stayed in, our opened blind eyes, our drawing of water from the well, so many normal instances can be an opportunity for God to draw us in and listen to Him.

      I was reflecting my three years as a Christian with him. It becomes clearer and clearer in my stay here in Liverpool of what is God's intentions for my life. As I study the life of Joshua after Moses' passing, I realise that my life is Joshua's life. Under the tutelage of Moses, Joshua rose to a great rank among the Israelites. But when Moses passed away, it was Joshua who led Israel into the Promised Land, it was Joshua who led warriors marching around Jericho, it was Joshua who led the people and had them settled down in the Promised Land.

      I feel like Joshua. I left my leaders behind me for UK. Here in Liverpool, though I seldom mention it, I find extreme trouble in making up my mind over things or being disciplined about my Christian walk. How many times have I felt like asking God for an off-day? How many times I doubted my calling and forgot about God?

      Like Joshua, I have a choice. To look behind and remember the days when I was led by someone and stare at Jericho warily; or I can seek God with all my heart and soul, listen to His guidance and walk over the river Jordan, die to the past and leave the dead buried in the desert and walk into a Promised Land God has given me.

      My first year as a Christian, I spent it consolidating my relationship with God, learning to love Him more than friends, family and my career. My second year was learning to be a disciple of Christ, learning to serve and be changed inside out. This year, my year of reckoning, is the year when leadership has invited me to join it in leading people. A year where I challenge myself to live independently and to obey leadership. A year where I am tested for a short (but challenging) four months away from WHC to see if my faith stands the test. I feel like Joshua, no more Moses, just me and God now.

      I can't help but notice the similarities. Jesus spent three years in ministry teaching His disciples. I have been discipled for three years. A prophecy said that in 2005 I would be different from 2002, that spiritually I would have grown greatly. Without pride, I will make the observation and say with gratitude - YES. But only through God's wonderful blessing and grace.

      There are many things that I do now that I didn't do in the past. I review my spiritual growth every now and then. I fill my mind with God's promises almost instantly when I feel challenged or depressed. I dream of conquests for God. I feel great urgency in my heart to fulfill His call in my life.

      God, thank You for everything. You make me complete. Let Thy will take its course of completion in my life. I will not turn to the left or to the right on this path, but I will medidate on Your word day and night and make my ways prosperous.