Choice

Choice, is the gift of our Daddy God to us. He gave it to us since He made man. He allows us to choose. However, we must be careful with this gift.

Sometimes it is frustrating when you cannot make up your mind when the choice is neutral or when you want something so much but something seems wrong about making that decision.

Do not be afraid, He sent a counselor to guide us. He sent the Holy Spirit, where is He? He is in our heart. Read the bible, pray, and then listen to your heart when you are caught in a sticky situation or in this case, decision. The wonderful counselor will show you the way...

Nevertheless, God will still push us to make choices in our life. So take the risk and choose rather than live in regret but be mindful not to sin. Restasure that our life is in God's hands.

High School

It is the last day of school and yet I can't feel anything. It's been an eventful 5 years of high school. I noticed that I would have missed out on a lot if I didn't go to school everyday at these last moments. In life, there are 2nd chances but there is no take 2. If you missed that moment then you've missed it. You can't go back in time to relive that exact moment because time traveling dont exist, neither do time travelers.

High school was where I actually grew up a lot and I have come to realise that it isn't that I don't feel anything, it's just that my character is like this. When it comes, it comes. I won't freak out or feel sad or anything. Just like my reaction when I found out I was selected for national service.

However, I will miss schooling life a lot. It's a place where you can fall and learn to stand up again with full hearted encouragements. It's a place where you can find yourself. It's a place we can only be, once in a lifetime. No take 2, no replay, no reliving it over again.

It's the end of high school, a story ends and a new story begins. ;)

Sweet Rain

A beautiful dream to be remembered:

A breeze picks up and wraps around me. In this colourful meadow, I stand still and breath in the air that is filled with the scent of flowers. I hear the birds sing and trees move along with the wind in harmony. This beautiful sight, leaves me speechless. The wind keeps blowing, the dark clouds march along and rain starts to fall on my face.

I love it when it rains. I also love to stand under the rain because the rain disguises my tears and it feels safe to cry. I always wanted to be strong and never show my tears. However, from time to time, this strong me, breaks.

I close my eyes and this time, this time, I let my tears fall. It's been so long since I let myself go. So I cried it all out, all the pain, all the sorrow. The rain washes them all away, away from my burden soul. The tears won't stop coming, I can no longer stop them. I feel weak as I continue crying. Where is the strong me? I ask myself. Gone?

I feel a hand on my face, wiping my tears. I feel a stroke through my hair, comforting my soul. I hear a voice, telling me that I'm stronger. I feel a strong hug, holding my brokenness and fixing me back from pieces. I feel strength, flowing from you to me.

I feel you finally let go and I open my eyes.

I laugh, really hard. So hard, that I find myself breathless. Your hair is down, flat and dreanch completely from the rain. It is not the usual you, but it is still you. I see worry leave your face and a smile spread across it as you watch me laugh. The rain still falls, but it no longer tastes of bitterness and sorrows. Instead, it tastes of sweetness and joy.

Dear rain, what do you taste like?
The rain, is sweet. ;)

D.A.D

"Hey sweetheart, how was school today?"
My dad would ask me right after work. Then he'd scoop me off the ground into his arms with his shirt and tie still on. My favourite part was when I playfully pulled his tie and he will make a funny sound and face that I no longer remember and I would giggle so hard in his arms every time he did that.

He was my father, the one I loved, the one who told me I could make it, the one I always thought was the strongest in the whole wide world and no one else could be stronger. Until...

A corner, a turn, an accident, a death. Took it all away, gone. My hope, my strength, my strong tower. He was to me the great wall to China, always there, always protecting, never failing.

I didn't understand death then, but I figured it out when I stood next to his hospital bed and shook him as hard as I could, calling him, imagining he was just sleeping and needed to be waken up like every normal morning but this time, he never woke up. He lay there senselessly, unmoving. I cried, hard, hoping he could hear me but the only thing I heard in reply was the beeping of machines and the sound I still hate till today, silence. It was then, that I truly understood, what death was really about and that he'll be gone forever.

I did miss him, a lot... but I remembered how he would tell me each morning before school: you can make it, you will make it, just keep holding on(I really hated school then). I did hold on and I still am. I may look jolly and happy all the time for only one reason: I'm still holding on. To what? To whom?

To the only one from above that I have.

Precious

This isn't my original, I just emphasized it a bit here and there, enjoy.. :)

"Daddy, daddy, look what mommy bought for me!"
the little girl shows her dad the plastic pearl necklace her mom has just bought for her at the store just now. The little girl continues talking,
"I'm gonna take real good care of it and show it to all my friends and treasure it forever and ever and ever."
the speechless husband looks at his wife, with a wide grin on his face.

That night, like every other night, the little girl's dad came to her room to read her a bedtime story. After he had finished, he asked his daughter,
"Whose daddy's little girl?"
"Me!"
"can you daddy your pearl necklace?"
"No!" said the little girl while pouting. The dad smiled, kissed her goodnight and went back to his room.

The next night, he did the same thing, the little girl yet again refuses to give up her precious possession. Night after night her daddy asked, night after night she refused. Her dad kept asking but he never forced her.

One night, when he went to her room, he found her standing with her head facing the floor and tears in her eyes. She stretched out her hand and gave her daddy her most precious pearl necklace. Her daddy smiled, took the necklace, put in a side and took out a beautiful, real, genuine pearl necklace.

Are we, at times, like the little girl? Living in our own fantasy, not willing to let go what seems precious to us but isn't meant for us? Even if God asked us over and over and over again? He wants to give us something better. If we don't let go, how then, can He give us what is meant for us? Because you are precious to Him, that's why He cared. ;)