There are all kinds of silences and each of them means a different thing.
There is the silence that comes with morning in a forest,
and this is different from the silence of a sleeping city.
There is silence after a rainstorm,
and before a rainstorm,
and these are not the same.
There is the silence of emptiness,
the silence of fear,
the silence of doubt.
There is a certain silence that can emanate from a lifeless object as from a chair lately used,
or from a piano with old dust upon its keys,
or from anything that has answered to the need of a man,
for pleasure or for work.
This kind of silence can speak.
Its voice may be melancholy,
but it is not always so;
for the chair may have been left by a laughing child or the last notes of the piano may have been raucous and gay.
There is a silence appears like fine flakes at first,
but becoming gradually heavier;
a blue and white dazzling light on everything one sees,
the ice-covered branches of the hemlocks sparkle,
bending low and tinkling in the sharp thin breeze,
and iridescent crystals fall and crackle on the snow-crust
with the winter sun drawing cold blue shadows from the trees
Whatever the mood or the circumstance,
the essence of its quality may linger in the silence that follows.
It is the night sea journey,
the lone fisherman on a tropical sea with his nets, and let these nets down
– sometimes, something tears through them that leaves them in shreds and he just rows for shore, and put his head under his bed and pray.
Scars are but evidence of life.
Evidence of choices to be learned from…
evidence of wounds…
wounds inflicted of mistakes…
wounds they choose
to allow the healing of.
They likewise choose to see them,
that they may not make the same mistakes again.
She turns around and saw him right underneath the shadow of his own,
like a mirror reflected herself.
With the whole universe in his mind
he’s looking afar.
In the midst of the ruin, she tries to embrace the chaotic beauty of his world.
It was then, he has become …
her greatest asset.
Finish my book of Proverbs on the last day of the new month.
This last passage has become my goal.
Wisdom gets you everywhere !
Hymn to a Good Wife
A good woman is hard to find,
and worth far more than diamonds.
Her husband trusts her without reserve,
and never has reason to regret it.
Never spiteful, she treats him generously all her life long.
She shops around for the
best yarns and cottons,
and enjoys knitting and sewing.
She’s like a trading ship
that sails to faraway places
and brings back exotic surprises.
She’s up before dawn,
preparing breakfast for her family and organizing her day.
She looks over a field and buys it,
then, with money she’s put aside, plants a garden.
First thing in the morning,
she dresses for work,
rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started.
She senses the worth of her work,
is in no hurry to call it quits for the day.
She’s skilled in the crafts of home and hearth, diligent in homemaking.
She’s quick to assist anyone in need,
reaches out to help the poor.
She doesn’t worry about her family when it snows;
their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear.
She makes her own clothing,
and dresses in colorful linens and silks.
Her husband is greatly respected when he deliberates with the city fathers.
She designs gowns and sells them, brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops.
Her clothes are well-made and elegant,
and she always faces tomorrow with a smile.
When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say,
and she always says it kindly.
She keeps an eye on everyone in her household,and keeps them all busy and productive.
Her children respect and bless her;
her husband joins in with words of praise: “Many women have done wonderful things,but you’ve outclassed them all!”
Charm can mislead
and beauty soon fades.
The woman to be admired and praised
is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-God.
Give her everything she deserves!
Festoon her life with praises!
Peru is a dream;
beneath the clear blue sky veiled the most untainted people;
with the very little on their hands breed the greatest smile I ever seen.
At this moment, I recalled what He said:
“Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them; Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”
6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
Blurred out lines from hangovers to coffee
lost to love.
4am alone and on my way.
These are my finest moments.
I scrub my skin to rid me from you
and I still don’t know why I cried.
It was just something in the way you took my heart
and rearranged my insides
and I couldn’t recognise the emptiness you left me with when you were done.
Maybe you thought my insides would fit better this way,
look better this way,
to you and us and all the rest.
But then you must have changed your mind or made a wrong
because why did you leave?
6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
I replace cafés with crowded bars
and empty roads with broken bottles
and this town is healing me slowly
but still not slow or fast enough
because there’s no right way to do this.
There is no right way to do this.
“What do you see?”
I shared yesterday about what I heard, and here’s a confirmation right after my previous post.
For thus has the Lord said to me: “Go, set a watchman, let him declare what he sees.”
– Isaiah 21:6
Today’s text says, “. . . set a watchman and let him declare what he sees”.
We need to be that watchman in our life.
In days of old the watchman would be positioned on the walls, or in a tower of the city, to look and see what was coming in the distance.
That’s what God wants us to do in our life and the life of others – He wants us to be looking and listening at what is coming.
Not with our natural eyes and ears, but our spiritual ones, the ones that came alive again at new birth.
The truth is we won’t ever fully see what God has for us with our eyes open – we will only see these things with our eyes closed.
It is when we are reading His word and spending time with Him in prayer that we see the things He has planned for us.
We are the watchman of our life. It’s not our Pastor’s job – it’s ours!
If we’re not seeing much that excites us, the trouble has probably been that we have been looking at the horizon,
or what seems to be happening next with our life, with mere natural eyes.
With our eyes open all we see is this present reality and very real circumstance.
But, with our eyes closed, God enables us to see what we have not yet experienced or not yet seen;
He reveals to us the plans He has for us.
If He is the author of the image of what we see when our eyes are closed and heart is focused on Him,
then He will be the finisher that makes it a reality in our life.
“I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going.
And I have trained myself to love it.
Because it is only when we are suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight,
that we force our wings to unravel and alas begin our flight.
And as we fly, we still may not know where we are going to.
But the miracle is in the unfolding of the wings.
You may not know where you’re going,
but you know that so long as you spread your wings,
the winds will carry you.”
Mother Teresa once said: “I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.
So, after a month, finally I settled down my emotion and ready to post a journal of my trip to Lesotho, where its capital and largest city is Maseru.
By way of background, I started my child sponsorship with World Vision in the year of 2010. And this was my first trip and never could it be the last.
I did not given a long time to consider for this trip, neither did I have enough of capacity to plan and arrange for it.
This was indeed the most impulsive and spontaneous decision I’ve made.
Did I regretted? I did not, definitely!
I do believe that God has His own plan of making things happened suddenly for a cause.
Why did I quoted Mother Teresa’s?
Simply because this whole journey started off with a simple yet unbearable word — “Love“.
To begin with a sponsorship of a monthly donation cost probably one of my meal is never a difficult thing for me especially when I stepped into the society and have my own purchasing power.
However, looking back of what was holding me to consider for so long is another simple yet unbearable word – “Commitment”
“Break my heart for what breaks Yours, Everything I am for Your kingdom’s cause, As I walk from earth into eternity …”
Almost four years ago, I decided to build my calling on the foundation of these phrases.
“Africa”. Is a word from Him.
I still remember vividly that the day I stood before the altar, with my eyes-brimmed, all of the African kids flashed through my mind.
That night, I couldn’t sleep … until I got a word from Him
— “Feed my people!”
We welcomed by a sunny sky with breeze gently touching us.
And we’ve been told that it wasn’t rain for nearly seven months .
The moment I landed my feet on this foreign place, I couldn’t help but goose bump and wondering what was the force that brought me all the way here.
Looking at all the African World Vision staffs, their friendly smile indeed warmed and chased away the butterflies in my tummy.
From day one onwards, I’ve been overwhelmed by all new experiences that I’ve never encountered before.
Projects (ADP – Area Development Programme).
It is always convincing when all the seeds you sowed came alive before your own eyes.
After more than 3 years of sponsorship, this was the first time I got to see what effort we have made.
Together, we are strong!
For all the projects, be it completed or on-going, I am glad to know that it does help the communities and making their lives better.
I couldn’t be more grateful to God for pampering my life after hearing all the stories and the difficulties of theirs living a life out there.
This making me even more convicted that I should make this journey my forever calling.
Without meeting up my child, this whole journey could be meaningless.
After correspondences through letters for the past three years, finally I met my child.
I can’t forget the little shy on his face when he grinned during our first met.
To me personally, this moment is so promising.
He is indeed the fruit of my obedience.
In return of what I’ve done in his life, he has no idea what he has contributed to mine as well.
We had a little chat with slight communication barriers, and I am grateful to know that he’s indeed a bright boy at school.
That moment, I believe each of my prayers is answered.
Victor Hugo is right – “You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving.”
The great acts of love are done by those who are habitually performing small acts of kindness. This whole journey couldn’t be completed without showing some acts of kindness.
I enjoyed every moment when we hit to the groceries to look out for goodies to be distributed. And also the moment I saw the happy faces when I handed out the goodies to my child and his family, then I realised how little action I did can made such a great impact in their lives.
I would not see my visitation as a final one, and I would really love to see our paths will cross again in the not so distant future.
Some point in our life, we need to keep the momentum going.
A week before I head to the trip, I start to realised that too much in my life has been drained.
But the oxymoron of life is this, you start to regain after you gave out so much.
I came back with a heart full of contentment and truly convinced that love grows by giving.
The only way to retain love, is to give it away…..
“She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon.
You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her,
but everything you think you know is wrong.
Passion flows through her like a river of blood.
She only looked away for a moment, and the mask slipped, and you fell.
All your tomorrows start here.”
Such a fascinating picture.
I always have a special affections towards Arican kids
Sometimes, I will be so fascinated by their innocent smile,
that will brimmed my eyes by merely looking at them
A pure heart they have, a smile that have not polluted
Aren’t they adorable?!
If one day you find yourself in yet another cluttered little shop,
turning over a saucer to study the maker’s mark,
running a finger around the rim to check for nicks,
holding a cup to the light to detect repairs,
you’ll know it for sure: You’ve become a collector.
Happiness is not to be achieved at the command of emotional whims.
Happiness is not the satisfaction of whatever irrational wishes you might blindly attempt to indulge.
Happiness is a state of non-contradictory joy—a joy without penalty or guilt,
a joy that does not clash with any of your values and does not work for your own destruction,
not the joy of escaping from your mind, but of using your mind’s fullest power,
not the joy of faking reality, but of achieving values that are real,
not the joy of a drunkard, but of a producer.
Happiness is possible only to a rational man, the man who desires nothing but rational goals,
seeks nothing but rational values and finds his joy in nothing but rational actions.
(alright, this is just like a tight slap to my previous post)