Remembering Her

The elder daughter woke up in the night shouting, “Mother! Mother!”

The younger daughter walked straight into her mother’s room as if she was still alive and called out, “Mother!” She lingered inside and called again, “Mother!” as her relatives waited outside worrying if she had gone nuts.

Yes, my two sister-in-laws are still grieving over the lost of their beloved mother, my mother-in-law who had passed away a fortnight ago.

Though not as affected, I too try to recapture some memories of her. How she'd touched my foot after I’d given birth to her first grandson. How she’d listened to my troubles and counseled me after my mom’s stroke and how she’d watched over me when I’d food poisoning (and that was immediately after she'd buried her husband).

I remember her as a loving mother. She was like forever fussing over her children and their families. Sometimes in expressing, repeating and reiterating her concerns for them, her words and actions came across as interference and weren’t appreciated, but yet, greatly missed when she’s gone.

I remember her forbearance, how she took the offences of her children in her strides and never ceased to love them and be of service to them.

One question came to mind as I ponder over her life and deeds. Were all her aspirations for her children met and fulfilled? Like a seed fallen into the ground and died, and then it’ll germinate and grow to bear fruits, I feel that though she couldn’t see her hopes materializing in her lifetime, some of what she’d hoped for may take place after her death. But then... some of what she’d hoped for may never happen... Still all things should work together for good as God is in control.

Another thought came to my mind too. She had led an exemplary life in terms of her deeds, love, kindness and forbearance towards her family and some others etc. Yet she'd seldom received the kind of attention she deserved in her life's time. And in her last days, she didn't get the kind of attention that she herself had showered upon her ailing spouse before his death. I felt that she'd been short-changed in life, even if this had been what she would have accepted 'cos she had always downplay her own welfare and asked us not to fuss over her if she should go...

I try to see her death in perspective but sometimes I can’t help but feel sad about life itself. Life seems so futile. You labored all your life over your loved ones. How much do they perceive of your work? They’ll miss you when you’re gone, for a while and you’ll be forgotten. The only comforting thought in the midst of all these is the fact that Jesus has saved us and death is a release from life’s labors.

So these are my just random thoughts... at least we have God.

Don't Give Up On Your Child

This is a must watch for parents with autistic children.

A Parenting Incident

About 22 years’ ago, while sitting on the couch, I stood my younger son who was about 2 years of age between my knees and decided that it was time to introduce God to him.

“Hmm, how shall I explain an invisible God to him and His relationship with us?” I thought.

“Yong, mommy is going to tell you about Somebody ok?” He looked at me with his trademark puzzled but very adorable look.

“There is Someone you’ve got to know dear and His name is God. Now God loves you more than mommy does. You know, although mommy gave birth to you, God was actually the One who made you inside me. God is great and He has made you wonderfully.”

“Look, see how good you are?” I touched his shoulders and asked him to look at himself. Then I continued, “See you can turn your head left and right!”

I really didn’t know how to explain better and thought my example was rather lame. I also thought that he must be quite lost with what I’d said or would rather go play with his toys. But he didn’t pull away from me…

Instead, my little boy started turning his head from left and right very slowly as if he was turning his head for the first time. Then he marveled at his ability and announced, “Mommy, look… I can turn my head!”

This episode brings a smile to my face every time I think about it. My younger son has grown into a strong young man of 23 but I will always remember the fascinated look on his face that day. Something special happened to him that day. Something registered in his young heart. Was it self-awareness that he was fearfully and wonderfully made by his Creator? I don't know but I believe my boy had experienced his first touch from the Lord that day, and is still experiencing Him today.

I thank God for both of my sons who have brought us so much blessings. :)

A Vague Jabbing Pain

Parenting is tough and this is an under-statement.

One of my earliest memories being a mom is that of my 6-month old baby warded at the hospital for a 40-degree high fever and a serious bout of diarrhoea. The nurses refused to cover him with a blanket because they had to bring down his fever. My poor baby was only wearing a thin filmsy gown and a diaper and he was turning blue from the cold! It hurt me so much to see him suffer like that! There was nothing I could do except to cover him with a piece of cloth. Even then, the nurse advised me not to do so but I insisted and she relented after seeing my tears. The cloth couldn't keep my baby warm at all, but it gave me a semblance that I was doing something for my son.

Even though this happened so long ago, it has never failed to jab at my heart whenever I think of it. I couldn't protect my baby from falling sick then, most of the time, I just hovered over him, totally helpless and sobbing. He was a wonderful baby, 'cos he didn't make a fuss and just laid there, looking at me the whole while. He just needed me by his side. He would panick and cry when the doctor took him away, but he would be comforted when he saw me again. I wished I could cuddle him and keep him warm, but that would actually harm him, so all I could do then was to touch him and speak tenderly to him. I felt so useless, I cried, I prayed, I sang to him in a quivering voice, "Oh Lord you're beautiful, your face is all I seek, and when your eyes are on this child, your grace abounds to me..." My baby kept looking at me while I tried to smile bravely, nodding, telling him that all was well. He kept looking, seeming to say, "Mommy, I'm not afraid as long as you're here... " and fell into an exhausted sleep.

I'm feeling the same now except that my presence does not help anymore. He needs something more than that, something stronger, higher and more convincing. And he needs a huge dose of grace.

Before posting this, I was looking up online videos but no matter what I watch, there was a vague jabbing pain that lingered in my heart, I knew what it was and ignored it, but peace eluded me again and I stopped surfing wondering what I should do next. Here, sitting in front of the computer, out of the blue, I suddenly remember this hospital scene. There are similarities here. A child unwell, the same sense of helplessness, the same prayer, the same plea... God, save my boy.

Be still my heart and hope in God, this one thing I know for sure, He will never leave us nor forsake us. Just as He was there together with us in the hospital room, He is here with us. Psalms 34:15 "The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous, and his ears toward their cry."

Jesus prayed, "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." I shudder at what we're facing and wish we never have to go through it. But just like at the hospital, I could only pray and wait. God is faithful, God's grace is sufficient for us and at the appointed time God's purpose will come to pass... Amen.

A Prodigal Hike

I've been a Christian for over 30 years. I wasn't born into a Christian home, but brought up in a dysfunctional foster family, with a couple who weren't married to one another. My foster mother was only 17 when she was forced to take me into her charge. Though she tried her best to take care of me, being a child herself, uneducated, orphaned and abused, she wasn't at all a role model for my growing up years, still, over here I would like to give her credit for having cared for me as well as she could.

I knew no peace while growing up. My foster mum had a foul temper (she has changed after receiving Christ 11 years ago), and my foster dad had another family with 7 children. There were 7 to 8 idols in our house and I could feel the spiritual warfare happening everyday, nightmares, bad dreams and totally unharmonious relationships. My foster parents were hostile to each other and after every episode of quarrel my mum would direct her anger and hurt towards me.

In school I lacked confidence as I was weak in studies, especially in English. Teachers never paid any attention to me. I felt transparent and made only a few friends. My childhood years were spent in loneliness, day-dreams, sadness and anxieties.

The pressures at home mounted when my foster dad cohabited with a 3rd woman and fathered an illegitimate child with her. He was then supporting 3 families, 3 disharmonious families. How did he, being a man of little education found such wealth to support 3 families? He did so by running a syndicate which collected illegal gambling bets. Despite his flaws, I'm grateful to him for raising me, and being very kind to me. He supported my education all the way to the University (while none of his own made it), got me a car (where 7 of his own kids shared one) and walked me down the aisle when I got married in Church (though he wasn't a believer). Tension ran high at his funeral when all 3 'wives' met. Those were bad memories which I've no intention to remember really.

In my twenties, God blessed me with a very good spouse, a gentle loving and patient man. Together we build a Christian home and have 2 sons. Through the early years of building a family, I've had to deal with various baggages and issues in my heart and God dealt with them one by one. I tried not to repeat the mistakes of my mum, but I did nevertheless because of my temper (which I have no idea whether it was a natural trait or a learned one). But I beseech God to change me and He did, I have my temper under control after 7 years of conscious struggle. I love my sons and brought them up to the best of my knowledge and in prayers. The Bible teaches to bring up a child in God's ways and when he is grown he will not depart from it. I believed and claimed this.

Although I've tried my best, being human, I know I have not been a perfect mum. But I love my children and there's no shadow of doubts about it. My spouse and I lived our lives with our children as our main concern. Much of my adult life was spent nurturing them and their needs and I've no energy left to build a career. I took on ad-hoc temporal part-time jobs now and then to fit them into my family schedules.

Thanks be to God that our sons grow up to be balanced individuals, having a healthy sense of self-esteem and confidence, excelling in their studies (having better academic results then their parents) and to top it all, they're faithful followers of Christ. I am so proud of them, not being prideful but being glad and relieved!

Into my 50s, I felt God's calling to witness to my colleagues who are foreigners and heeded God's call. I left my comfort zone, humbled myself and poured myself as sacrificial libation upon the altar in order to reach out to these unsaved souls, souls whom God loves and whom Christ died for. Out of 3 people, 2 were saved, thanks be to God. While serving those 2, I was often hurt in the process. Serving God is entering into the battlefield and we can be hurt in the process. I'm not perfect and I find myself grumbling at times, I wish I hadn't but I did. However, despite my failings in this, I have no regrets for the trouble taken to present them to Christ.

While I was happy and contented with my life so far, something bad happened and caused me much pain...

What pain me most now is that after my diligent and whole-hearted service to God, satan has infiltrated into our family and attacked one of our family members, causing serious doubts and unbelief in him. As a family, we could only advise that member to hold on to what's remnant of faith he has left with and not give up fighting for his faith. I've beseiged God to rescue this family member and entrust his soul to a faithful Creator. However he has his freewill and if he finally choose to undertake this prodigal journey and squander away his spiritual inheritance, I pray that like the prodigal son, he will still wake up to his senses and have the spiritual discernment to humbly return to his Heavenly Father one day. Somehow, deep inside me, I feel or I hope that like Job, God allows this prodigal trip to happen only because after he is tested, he will return stronger to guide others in the same dilemma; living your own life or submitting to a loving omni-potent, omni-science, omni-present God who knows us personally. I hope and I pine for this outcome.

This recent incident has awaken me to these truths:

1. That we must always guard our hearts for out of it flows the issues of life; LIFE - the physical and eternal!
2. That even as we minister to others and have God's stamp of approval and blessings in our ministries, we must always keep watch over our own family because the devil will try to distract us.
3. That we should never take our faith for granted, we have to be serious with God. Don't try to be a Christian, live as one!
4. That none of us is ever strong enough to stand on our own, we need God's people and there is nothing wrong with that. A baby needs his parents, a man his spouse and we all grow up in families, so it is in our spiritual lives, we need God's family.
5. That we need to choose our friends wisely. You can have unbelieving friends, but be careful of developing strong binding relationships with those who'll draw you away.
6. New experiences and knowledge are fine but as the Bible admonishes, we should always be alert to the wiles of the devil for he can confuse God's children with puff-up knowledge that brings confusion, dissension instead of peace.

At the end of the day, we have to decide whom to follow? Choose this day your 'god', is it God, Jehovah Jireh our Provider, or the world? It does not matter how we begin with God, it matters how we end. Life is a sum of all choices.

Despite the pain and sadness I'm experiencing now, I will not give up ministering to others whenever I'm in the position to do so. I will not be intimidated because God will win finally. God is sovereign. I shall continue to trust God for His goodness and mercy, and my family, yes my family, each and everyone in my family shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever!

God who had rescued me when I was sold away in infancy, God who had safe-guarded me during those unhappy days in my dysfunctional foster home, God who gave me a wonderful spouse, who blessed us with two lovely sons, this God will not fail me now or in the future, He will keep us in Him for eternity. In tears I plead...

Introducing Zoei Toh

Little Zoei sings in tune! She's an inspiration to many parents wanting to raise their kids in the Lord's ways...

I Would Like To Hear From You

Hi all, I've a very analytical younger son who's always musing over things. Lately, he has put this up in his blog, "An Interesting Argument", and I'll be grateful if any of you would drop by his blog to leave your comment and advice. He is serving in the Children's ministry. Thank you. :)

And here's a snippet from his post:

I could probably go on, arguing for ages about how worship is always an inside-out process, not outside in. But instead of doing that, let me leave an open challenge. If anyone of you still think that the outside-in approach is still correct, logical as it may sound, convince me with the word of God. Show me where in the bible such an approach can be supported. Please don't repeat some Christian-sounding argument (the type with absolutely no scriptural basis) or present a who-said-what.

Anybody want to come back on what I've just said? Pick up the gauntlet. I humbly wait to be corrected. I have thought long and hard, and I have yet to find a strong-enough biblical argument in what I am challenging.

When You Were But A Puny Little Fellow

When you were but a puny little fellow,

they'd spent much time teaching you how to use the spoon and fork,

teaching you how to put on a shirt, tie your shoe laces and button up,

teaching you how to wash your face and comb your hair,

teaching you how to wipe your nose, and your butt,

teaching you about life.

Remember the song that you took so long to learn?

Remember your incessant challenging questions?

So ...

when they grow old,

when they can't recall things, or can't catch up in speech,

when they repeat a past moment of glory for the nth time,

please be patient with them.

When they've forgotten how to tie their shoes,

when they begin to spill stuff onto their clothes,

when their hands tremble as they comb their hair,

please don't hurry them,

because as you grow up gradually,

they'll grow old eventually.

They will be contented as long as they are near enough to behold you,

it'll bless their hearts,

when the day comes when they can't stand for long or walk without aid,

when you hold them tightly, and walk closely besides,

just like

the good old days, when they held you closely by their side...

A Wise Young Man

"Worship before works. Love before righting wrongs" The wise young man who spouted this in his blog is my younger son. He has entertained me with his antics since the day he was born, and I've always wanted to blog about him and his jokes, but somehow I just don't know where to begin... I used to worry about the kind of person he would grow up to be as he has a very sensitive side and tends to do things to the extreme, but God has raised him so well, praise God. :) What's he like? I think you'll get a better picture visiting his blog. :)

Life's A Journey, Education's A Marathon

Years ago, my neighbour asked me while looking at my 5 year-old elder boy playing with chalks in front of our house, "Can he spell 'Apple'?"

"No" I replied, hesitating in my heart, heh, I thought I should let him play at this age?

"Well, my daughter could spell it for some time already!" she mocked in amazement. Her daughter was 6.

Goodness gracious! That prompted me to look for all kinds of ways to teach my boy to read. Heaven knows I'd tried ALL ways, I made him memorized the letters in the alphabet, pasted labels naming everything in the house, we sang nursery rhymes together etc. He just couldn't catch it! And the very expensive nursery/kindergarten we'd put him in didn't help much either.

Finally, I found a phonic programme and personally coached him and his younger brother for a year each. Thank God by the age of 7, both could read The Straits Times.

Then came the agony of Primary School. Goodness gracious again! The bulk of school work he had to cope with was unthinkable! It didn't help much when he fell ill frequently; often with headache and tummyache, signs of stress.

Through the years, we'd pumped in so much money, giving both our boys tuition in Chinese and Mathematics. My elder son pulled through his PSLE with an average score that managed to put him in the Express Stream in Secondary School.

My mom has a stroke when he was in Sec. 2. I couldn't at all concentrate on his studies anymore. He was frustrated with his Maths. He didn't like Science very much either. The only delight that motivated him through the drudgery of secondary school years was his NPCC.

Seeing his struggle with studies, I'd often wondered whether he would ever do better in school.

Then in Sec 3, he started bringing home distinctions in 'unimportant' subjects such as ethics, and the likes, you know? Not the important subjects that count in GCE 'O' level aggregate calculation. And being the practical mother that I was, I said, "I'm not impressed, do well in the other subjects instead!"

It was a good thing my son retorted, "You are always like that! You always say this!" Goodness gracious! What did I always say?

I realized I'd only placed emphasis on his academic subjects and didn't give him praise for other things that he did well. Seeing his hurt expression, I quickly apologized, "Sorry, sorry, you have done well in these, I do hope you can also do well in the rest, but you have indeed done well in these too, son. I'm sorry, I shall not be like this again."

Then, things happened. He started coming home with distinctions in English, then History, then Geography, and gaining new found confidence daily. Praise God.

Fast forward to today. He is in SMU second year, pursuing a course in Political Science, perhaps taking up another major in the course of time. He came back last night with a crystal plaque inscribed with these words, "The School of Social Sciences, certifies that (name) has been placed on the Dean's list for meritorious performance in Academic Year 2007-2008". That means he belongs to the top ten in his faculty!

And he has that sweet smile on his face, just like the one he always had years back whenever he came back with good news that he did well in this and that.

THIS is the same boy I'd fret and worried over all these years, since he was 5. My elder son.

Phew! :)

Pss ... tell you about my younger son on another occasion. :)