Running for approval

I went for another long run yesterday.. 19km plus plus.. sheesh.. At the start of the run my friend's husband articulated what we were all thinking at 7:45 on a Saturday morning - Why are we doing this to ourselves? Haha..

But it was good.

During one of the long lonely stretches, I realised I was looking out for someone as I was jogging. Perhaps I would meet an old acquaintance, perhaps Mr D.A. who claims to jog there sometime, perhaps someone else - male.
Odd, I thought. And as I searched within myself, I asked God - who am I really looking for? What am I really looking for?

And suddenly the answer came - your father's approval.
I started to remember occasions in my childhood when I had been outstanding, done great stuff, won prizes, so many occasions, and my father had not been there.
One incident stood out - a time when I was in Primary One and I had returned home with my report book. At that time I had no inkling what the report book was for, or what the exams had meant. But when my father woke up from his nap and saw my position in standard(43 out of 116 or something like that), he looked.. disappointed. I remember that.
After that, I made sure I always was within the top ten.

This ache in me - it's been for my father's approval? He has passed on - his soul has found rest (Ps 62:1). I will rest in my Heavenly father's approval instead.

A quiet stream..

It was one of those incredible days when I got up and I remembered that I am loved.

On the surface, it was a power-packed, hit-the-floor running kind of day. But beneath was a quiet stream of ... contentment. No sane reason. Just faith surfacing I guess.

Had a great dinner at Akashi with three lovely girlfriends, then joined friend's husband and friends (cute guys) for drinks. Hilarious conversation, good vibes.

But whether it was the hectic bustle of the day or the flattering interaction in the night, I still could pause, reach within to that quiet stream, and sip.

I would like to live life this way.

I must remember to.

Gulf War (of mis-com and ministry)

Talking about 'unbridgeable gulfs' which I mentioned two posts ago..

I used to be in a church cell group. For nine years in fact. Did alot, grew alot.
Then, changes occurred. More regulations, more expectations, a growing sense of unease.. (Huh? I mean, you really are my family? Seeing you in a social/religious context once a week amidst 6 other persons makes you my family? But... ?)

Had crisis managment talks with the pastor. Submission to authority. Loving unconditionally. Needless to say I felt progressively alot shittier about myself. This hem-haw tug-of-war lasted for about a year (Sheesh, what was I doing for a year?!?) Then I left.

More talks. More questions. Finally, I said I wanted to try again. (Tell you I'm a sucker for punishment. People-pleaser, constantly guilt-ridden. What bad traits. Must change.)
Anyway.
Pastor says - Wait. Stop. Not so fast. I will decide which cell group you must be in. Submission to authority. Trust my heart. (But why must you micro-manage? I trust your heart but not your judgement. You don't even know me.. ) So I guai-guai wait and stop. And wait.

After four months, there's been no news. I've changed church in the meanwhile. No cell groups here, but I really trust this lady who's the epitome of Christian graciousness. (A standard I'll only reach by a miracle, which is why i need God.)

Tonight, i received an SMS. 'Hey, I think there's been a miscom. Pastor thought she didn't need to get back to you.'

Huh? After four months she realises? Wow. What unconditional love and care she has for me. Then again, she's only human, i could have very well asked for feedback, i could have very well bridged the gap.
But - I'm just tired.

Maybe the mis-com is God's will after all.

Massage vs Sex (as if I know so much)

I am quite convinced that the chances of getting satisfied from a good massage must be better than the chances of getting satisfied from sex.
The argument is as follows : masseuses (masseusi? masseuse? I'm getting confused here..) are specifically trained to relax/shiok-ify various muscle groups. Then, they are specifically paid to devote all their strength and skill to rub away every single strain from your muscle groups for 1 - 1.5 hours.
Now, unless we are talking about paid-for sex (which we are not, or rather, I will not), the chances that my future life partner will be as skilled or as devoted would be.... slim.
SO.
Try House of Javanese massage. My bones almost melted. Wah-leow-eh.

An unbridgeable gulf

Despite my beautiful wonderful getaway, I was somehow lonely during the trip. (Ingrate. Brat. Whiner.) Got scolded by A when I told him. (Live in the present girl, you deserve a tight slap.) Sigh. I really have briliant friends.
And today - I read this -

Quotation: We are separated from one another by an unbridgeable gulf of otherness and strangeness which resists all our attempts to overcome it by means of natural association or emotional or spiritual union. There is no way from one person to another. However loving and sympathetic we try to be, however sound our psychology, however frank and open our behavior, we cannot penetrate the incognito of the other man, for there are no direct relationships, not even between soul and soul. Christ stands between us, and we can only get into touch with our neighbors through Him. ... Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945), The Cost of Discipleship [1964]

Bonhoeffer. Wow. I still haven't finished ploughing through 'Letters from a prison cell'. Must get back to it soon.

getaway..

Just returned from a weekend trip to Kota Tinggi.. wow. My colleague and I stayed in the Kota Rainforest resort.. it was just us and the owners for the whole weekend! (apparently, it's super offpeak season due to kids' exams.. Whoowee! ) Get this - paid $30 sing per person!!
Gunung Panthi shrouded in clouds in the background, a private pool.. a canopied bed (my childhood princess fantasy.. haha) and really really good food... shiok. =)

the shit hits the fan.. the fan whirrs... I climb above..

SO.

What a difference a day makes. Or in this case, a week.
Three different cases of exam cock-ups. All under my department.
Two cock-ups were absolutely not under my control, the third I was trying to help someone and ended up exarcebating the problem.
But - I'm rather proud of myself.
After a day of vacillating, I stood up, owned up. And more shit came.
I think my peak stress point was on Wednesday - cold sweat, couldn't eat, felt like running away from the office and never coming back.
After that point, when MORE shit came, I just .... coasted. Too-dee-too-dee-doo... life goes on... lalala... Managed situations calmly.. type type type letters.. lalala...

This ability to turn off is a wonderful God-sent gift I tell you. I'm not sure why but after I pass peak stress point, I start to have this bubbly, amused feeling inside of me. (My thoughts go something like : Hmm..haha.. life is very funny. I wonder what will happen next..)

I guess it's part of just letting go of... fear?
Don't want to fear losing the position (didn't ask for it in the first place)
Don't want to fear being disliked (those who really know me will trust me anyay)
Don't want to fear losing financial security (this is the hard one....but i think I'm learning to trust God in this area.. )
Don't want to fear being alone in the midst of a crisis (This is the hardest one of all.. The odd thing is that i do have close, wonderful friends who'll be there for me in a moment. And i do believe God is always watching out for me.. yet..?
Yet even if there was a 'special someone' (ewwww.. one of the grossest phrases ever invented), I could still feel alone. No one but me can ever walk around in this skin this side of heaven.

Deal with it babe.

A quote for me....

The quote of today was the following ... is God good or what? =}

Christian Quotation of the Day
October 12, 2005
Commemoration of Wilfrid, Abbot of Ripon, Bishop of York, Missionary, 709 Commemoration of Elizabeth Fry, Prison Reformer, 1845
Meditation: And you have forgotten that word of encouragement thataddresses you as sons: "My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son."Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons.For what son is not disciplined by his father? -- Hebrews 12:5-7 (NIV)
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Quotation: Trials are medicines which our gracious and wise Physicianprescribes because we need them; and he proportions thefrequency and weight of them to what the case requires. Let ustrust his skill and thank him for his prescription. ... Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727)
_______________________________________________________________
Quiet time reflection: Lord, make a grateful heart in me for the trials I mustendure.

Alternative career?

Today is a day I want to change my job..
Being in middle managment is wah lau eh not fun.

What do you do when those you oversee screw up big time?
What do you do when you could cover it up and no one would know?
What do you do when you have a built-in guilt system and you wonder... was it my fault?

I was walking to the mrt, screaming in my heart - GOD! I need to talk to someone!!!!!
A.W. called. Answered prayer. His advice - report to the already pissed authorities and cover backside.
I hemmed and hawed.
God, is that wise? But .. but Rahab lied about the two guys in Jericho and You praised her... but but... I feel like chicken shit.
Messaged E, my best friend. Waited for a reply. Continued trying to justify lack of telling... why blow it up? Why get that teacher into trouble? Or am I just trying to not get myself into trouble?
E replied. Should own up.

I sighed. It clicked. That was what my conscience was telling me. Screw promotions. Screw my backside. Screw the shelling both my supervisee and I will get. I don't want to hide.
Shit.
So I called the VP. Told her about the matter. Gotta see her and the big boss (piercing eyes) tomorrow morning.
Wah liew.

Time to look for an alternative career (ok, bit dramatic.. but why not? Civil system no joke, one black mark and you're in limbo for eternity. They can talk all they want about people developer and nurturing teachers, but the Singapore system is error-intolerant. no wonder so many people are freaking depressed.)
Maybe be deejay.. or sing in pub (but i think I cannot make it. probably will have to wear damn low cut before people will come.. cannot like that...)

Got driving license.. maybe can drive taxi... and sing at the same time... hahaha.. charge extra..

Hmmm... when I'm super stressed I revert to singlish... talk about language of the heart..

So what now?

Pray for a miracle.. or just for peace.
Seriously, how the P treats me after this will strongly impact my career path. Perhaps it's part of the grand plan to kick me out of my cushy seat and do something elsewhere.

Silver linings.

Addedum :
In an odd twist of emotions, in the midst of my super super stress, I kept thinking of Mr D.A. I wished I could talk to him.. How pathetic is that? When to check his online status (pathetic quotient rising) and was glad when realised he hadn't been online for some time.. (pathetic quotient at all time high).
Eww. Woman, get a grip.

Letters from the Mountain

Saw 'Letters from the Mountain' today, a lovely Japanese film about the beauty of a simple life in a Japanese village, experienced through the eyes of a couple strained from city life.

I was struck by how fulfilling life is when one can touch and share and heal and really, really talk with other humans. I think the pain of city life is that everyone is detached and wrapped in an invisible wall of busy-ness, pre-occupation, contrived sophisitication and distrust. To me, the simplicity of country life wasn't in the incredible scenery or the quaint, noble characters, it was that there was real interaction with one another, with nature.

One of the main characters is this 96 year old lady who spoke wisdom with a child-like passion. The film showed all these old ladies bent over with age, yet still planting and reaping in the fields. One said she was very happy just talking a little with a friend in th morning.
I met my mum after the show, still mulling over the film. On the way home, I mentioned what I had seen in the movie and asked her - So what will you do after you stop working? You'll need to have friends to talk to right? She paused for a moment then said - I'll read the bible. And exercise, meet friends.
I stopped. How little I know my own mother. How presumptous I am, that I always have better answers than she does, just because I'm more articulate.

In the movie, the lead character, a lady doctor - gentle and bright, the words of the old lady - said that one of the most important traits of a good doctor is humility. I think that must be true for teachers and daughters as well.

I know I am bright - I would like to be gentle too.

The object of seeking

Re-reading my previous entries, I find that instead of 'quirky', I come across as rather schizophrenic in my blog.. I vacillate from thankful, pensive and thoughtful to whiny, angry and confused.
It is very peculiar that I have found so much beauty in blogs of great Christian writers (readromans.blogspot.com) , yet I remain tickled pink over the most vulgar obscenities in rockson.blogspot.com.
It would sound too cliched to say that I am still searching for myself.. Then again, my blogger id is 'still seeking'.
I would like to stop my narcissistic searching of myself. Who am I but dust and ashes, a limited mind in a confusing world? I need to focus my search on the One who says ' You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart' Jeremiah 29:13

No more theories

I've just discovered that no theories in the world can bring peace.. it's a moment to moment thing..much like faith or any other emotion where both will and feelings come into play. Odd how a million theories can't do the job of a small breeze blowing ripples on the water..

Finishing 'Captivating' by John and Stasi Elderedge. In it, the authors say that the essential question for men is 'Am I man enough? Can I succeed?' while the essential question for women is 'Am I lovely? Am I desirable?' Interesting. Apparently we spend our days asking that question to all around us, hoping to find acceptance. The authors contend that only God can answer the question satisfactorily, and only His answer counts. I agree in theory, and I keep wondering why I find it hard to accept at a gut level.

Did a super comprehensive survey today.. it asked questions like 'If you could change your job, would you? Would you have joined this profession if you knew then what you do now? How important is job stability to you? How important is not following regulations to you?'
Boy, talk about reflective.. it forced me to really think about what teaching still means to me. Whatever happened to mission work? Have i lost the passion? Or was it simply never there and only glamourised in my mind?

Maybe starting all over again from ground zero is a good thing.