I'm sitting in front of the computer, desperately trying to type an essay on my goals and dreams but I'm stuck. The words just wouldn't flow and no matter how hard I try, my mind's a blank. I can't do it. 

I need inspiration. Not just some desperate, last-minute-think-of-something-smart-to-say type of inspiration but real inspiration. The sort that radiates right through you from every cell in your body, and gives you courage to face the obstacles ahead and continue running the race. It's not just fluff but a concrete, grounded belief and hope that one can, and will, make a difference.

I want it back. I want to believe again.

Dear God,

I don't know the reason behind all of this. I'm feeling confused, angry and immensely discouraged by the injustice that I see. The continual coming and going is really taking its toll. My heart is heavy and I feel so helpless every single day. What can I do to change things? What can I possibly do to help? What do You want me to learn from this?

Everytime I feel exhausted, I think of December. Looong walks, road trips, river markets, lots of cooking and maybe even some cross-country cycling. Most of all, some quality time with a good 'ol friend I miss oh-so-very-much. And the mere thought of it brings a smile to my face :) 

I can feel it already.

ETA: Telepathy or what??? Friend messaged to ask for my flight details as I was typing this entry.

So I gave the BSF a shot today and as it turns out, they've got one in Novena. How very convenient :) And I was completely wowed over when the speaker gave his introductory presentation:

"We try our best to start on time at 725pm with the praise and worship. After which, there'll be a discussion session of 38mins, 2 min for prayer requests. And by 910pm, you can be most certain that you'll be out of the church."

Do we have a winner or what? Hehe...the only problem is, the waitlist is seriously long and the next course runs from Feb. Bleah....I guess the search continues.

I love ending the day with keyboard/guitar class. It makes Mondays so much less dreadful and never fails to calm my nerves after a hectic day. Plus, everyone in class is so unbelievably warm and sincere, it makes me feel right at home even though I can hardly remember the names of my classmates. I kid you not. They practically radiate goodness and love, I can almost see the halos above their heads.
You know what they always say...church is the best place to pick up an instrument because no matter how horrendous one sounds, you'll still get the encouraging nod. Heh.

On a side note, I think I need a cell group. I've never been much of a "groupie" person but the idea's really growing on me and I wish they had a healthcare workers fellowship, something like Campus Crusade or the VCF perhaps (ok maybe not as intense cos it scares me). Maybe I should consider the BSF.


p.s. Does anyone know who sang this version of the Lord's Prayer? It's beautiful beyond words :)

arpc.podbean.com/2010/08/  (the song's right at the end of the clip)

Little Red Riding Hood

from Politically Correct Bedtime Stories by James Finn Garner. Copyright 1994 by James Finn Garner. Published by Macmillan Publishing USA.

There once was a young person named Red Riding Hood who lived with her mother on the edge of a large wood. One day her mother asked her to take a basket of fresh fruit and mineral water to her grandmother's house--not because this was womyn's work, mind you, but because the deed was generous and helped engender a feeling of community. Furthermore, her grandmother was not sick, but rather was in full physical and mental health and was fully capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.

So Red Riding Hood set off with her basket through the woods. Many people believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place and never set foot in it. Red Riding Hood, however, was confident enough in her own budding sexuality that such obvious Freudian imagery did not intimidate her.

On the way to Grandma's house, Red Riding Hood was accosted by a wolf. who asked her what was in her basket. She replied, "Some healthful snacks for my grandmother, who is certainly capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult."

The wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone."

Red Riding Hood said, "I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop your own, entirely valid, worldview. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way."

Red Riding Hood walked on along the main path. But, because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the wolf knew a quicker route to Grandma's house. He burst into the house and ate Grandma, an entirely valid course of action for a carnivore such as himself. Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist notions of what was masculine or feminine, he put on Grandma's nightclothes and crawled into bed.

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, "Grandma, I have brought you some fatfree, sodium-free snacks to salute you in your role of a wise and nurturing matriarch."

From the bed, the wolf said softly, "Come closer, child, so that I might see you."

Red Riding Hood said, "Oh, I forgot you are as optically challenged as a bat. Grandma, what big eyes you have!"

"They have seen much, and forgiven much, my dear."

"Grandma, what a big nose you have, only relatively, of course, and certainly attractive in its own way."

"It has smelled much, and forgiven much, my dear."

"Grandma, what big teeth you have!"

The wolf said, "I am happy with who I am and what I am," and leaped out of bed. He grabbed Red Riding Hood in his claws, intent on devouring her. Red Riding Hood screamed, not out of alarm at the wolf's apparent tendency toward crossdressing, but because of his willful invasion of her personal space.

Her screams were heard by a passing woodchopperperson (or log-fuel technician, as he preferred to be called). When he burst into the cottage, he saw the melee and tried to intervene. But as he raised his ax, Red Riding Hood and the wolf both stopped.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" asked Red Riding Hood.

The woodchopper-person blinked and tried to answer, but no words came to him.

"Bursting in here like a Neanderthal, trusting your weapon to do your thinking for you!" she exclaimed. "Sexist! Speciesist! How dare you assume that womyn and wolves can't solve their own problems without a man's help!"

When she heard Red Riding Hood's impassioned speech, Grandma jumped out of the wolf's mouth, seized the woodchopperperson's ax, and cut his head off. After this ordeal, Red Riding Hood, Grandma, and the wolf felt a certain commonality of purpose. They decided to set up an alternative household based on mutual respect and cooperation, and they lived together in the woods happily ever after.

It's Monday- the first day of a working week. And I just received the funniest phone call ever from my buddy whose annual leave has just begun.

"Oei. Do you have anything important to do tonight?"
"Erm....why?"
"Wanna go camping?"
"I have to work!!"
"I know. You can go to work tomorrow morning. I have a very big tent and it can fit a lot of people. We are sitting in front of a stove right now, cooking."


Heh...My friends are crazy. And I'm so happy to have them in my life. Looking through some old photos over the past week, I've come to realise how incredibly blessed I am to have forged so many precious friendships over the years. Sure, there were squabbles and times where we pissed each other off. But when all that's over, I lie in bed at night and thank God for all the people who have played a part in building those beautiful memories in every step of the way.
 
So thank you, my dear friend :)



“Such is friendship, that through it we love places and seasons; for as . . . flowers drop their sweet leaves on the ground around them, so friends impart favor even to the places where they dwell. With friends even poverty is pleasant . . . It would be better for us that the sun were exhausted than that we should be without friends.” - John Chrysostom