May 21, 2013

Dear Zac

Dear Zac,

I know we’ve never met and but I’ve known you from what other people have talked about. I don’t know when we will meet, but I know that one day, I will meet you and there are so many things I need to ask you. But until then, this letter will do.

Last weekend, I was at a cell meeting with my group of teenagers where we were talking about you and that one encounter you had. Zac, I’ve heard about you millions of times and I’m sorry I haven’t paid enough attention. I just realized today as we were talking about you that there are so many things I could learn from you.

I’ll be honest here, I hope you don’t get hurt. But Zac, my mother, I remembered was the first person who told me about you. And I never liked you from the start. First of all, I never liked short men. (Hehe!! It’s just a personal preference!) And secondly, I don’t like corrupted people who grew rich from cheating other people. My mother told me that you were that kind of person. And just that thought of you climbing a tree was downright… unattractive, I must say. So, I guess it’s safe to say that I never really admired you, or liked you. And after that encounter you had with God, she told me you changed, but doesn’t everyone??

But last week, while we were talking about you, I rediscovered so many things about you. There were so many things about you that I never really cared to look: the efforts you made, your rock-hard determination and your proactive ways. From my talks with my teen cell group, I guess I’ve come to see you in a different light. I’ve come to admire you and these past few days, I couldn’t stop thinking about you!! Sheesh!

How frustrating must it be for you when people refuse to budge when you wanted to see that one person? Did you stamp your feet and mutter ‘I am a government official, I deserve some respect’ when the crowd pushed you to the back that day? What went through your head when you saw that fig tree? How embarrassing must it be for you to climb that tree among that crowd? How awkward was climbing a tree with your tonga? By the way, did your tonga get caught in some branch revealing more than you wanted? (Just curious, you know. Cause skirts sometimes act that way!) Did someone make fun of you while you made the attempt to climb that tree? Did you bruise your knees, were there ants or insects in that tree that bit you while you were on that tree? 

I heard, that One person you tried to see that day didn’t have any plans to stop in your town. But after seeing you on that tree, he came to have dinner at your house. Well, that one encounter changed you. And in order to have that one encounter, you made an effort both mentally and physically. You were determined to see him and even climbed that fig tree.

Have you heard about Mahasen, the cyclone that was headed for Mizoram a few days back? Well, the 5/11 Aizawl tragedy and the (then) impending cyclone had me on the edge of my seat for a few days. I’ve been told that people back home were fervent in praying, asking God to somehow keep us from destruction. For the past few days, I have also been lead to have an intercessory prayer for everyone back home.

The D-day arrived and I was relieved to see on my twitter feed that the cyclone fizzled out before it reached Mizoram and changed its course. I was thankful then and there and I thank God for answered prayers. But then there were some people all over social networking sites joking and making fun of certain things about the cyclone and the prayers. It saddened my heart a bit to see how we take so many things for granted! Even the supernatural!!

Then I remembered you.

God changed His plans because you made an effort. Jesus never intended to stay in your town, he was just passing by, but because you made such an effort to meet him, he changed his plans. Likewise, I realized the cyclone fizzled out because so many people stood in the gap and prayed for deliverance.

And it’s not only about the cyclone.

It made me realize, if your efforts could make God change His plans, so can mine! I am a lot like you Zac, and I’m nothing like you at the same time. But in the end, we are both imperfect people perfected by grace.
But there is one mega-huge thing that I should not overlook. Zac, after you met Jesus, you changed your old ways! Now that is a challenge that I should take for myself. A self-reflection that I need to carry out daily: Have I changed after I’ve met Him??

I hope to meet you one day, and ask you certain questions face to face! Like how short are you exactly!? Hehe! I’m short too, but I wonder who, between us, is shorter? Or did you grab some of the fruits and eat them while you were on that tree? (I would have, if I had been in your place.) Mindless little nothings that would start a good conversation once we meet. I hope you will have some time for me when we meet and I hope you don’t have a long queue of people to ask you such questions! But then again, even there is so, when we finally meet, we will have forever (and I mean, forever, literally) to talk!

So until then,  Zac, thank you. You’ve taught me a valuable life lesson. You’ll be in my mind for a long time to come. But, don’t worry! I don’t have a crush on you. Again, I’m not attracted to short men! Heh!

Much Respect,

P.S: I hope you don’t mind me calling you Zac. You full name sounds so ancient and I realized I could never relate to you in person when I call you Zacchaeus. J J J

May 8, 2013

Private Moments

I flipped over in my bed and let out a sigh. I have been staring at the shadows dancing in my ceiling for the past two hours. Sleep definitely doesn’t come easy these days. “An hour before midnight is worth two after” or so they tell me. Somehow I can force myself to retire by midnight, but going to sleep soon after has always, always been a fight.

There’s something really healthy that I have been practicing for this year (my post-Hlimsang stage, heh!). I go to bed early and I rise with the sun! Yep! I never really knew I was a morning person until a few months back. I often find myself praying with a smile while my heart leaps as I watch the sunrise; watch the sky change into different shades of blue; hear the birds sing with the break of the new day. Oh yes! My favourite soundtrack to the scene I just mentioned is Phil Wickham's "You're beautiful". Lately, I’ve realized that the devotionals I had in the mornings are clearer, crispier and deeper than those I would have at breakfast hours. When you wake up to such beautiful mornings, getting through the day with a light hearted-mood is a breeze.
Lately, I often catch my contented reflections on windows and moving vehicles. And I have to say, with His Grace and Mercy, just within a year, I have come a long long way.

Just a year ago, I was always busy putting on my happy mask while my insides were torn and shredded. I fooled the world into thinking that I was fine and that I am a survivor despite suffering from one of the worst heartbreaks and a massive doldrum  in my life. I was always careful to put on a smile and multiple layers of perkiness and mirth when I am around other people. But when the day is done, I would drag my heavy feet and my weary heart to a lonely room that I won’t care to clean for days at the end. I would lie awake at night, sometimes cry on marathon phonecalls with my dad (the only person I could show my true colors to), pray while wondering if God ever heard me at all and wonder if I’d ever get through the night without… dying!!  Sleep would somehow catch up with me as the first ray of light hits my curtains; my day would start an hour past lunch and the same cycle of  a broken girl hiding behind a happy mask would continue!

But as cheesy as it may sound… Love heals! J

I fell in love with a Jewish Carpenter!

Need I say more?
I no longer need to prove myself to the world that I am a survivor, that I am strong and that I don’t need a man in my life. Because I am not! I’m weak and fragile; I cry when no one is watching; I often swallow a hard lump of hurt when someone calls me fat or say something shady about my dad. I am massively scared of being judged and I know that even with all the academic degrees I hold, I am nothing better than stupid! I am useless in the kitchen and till today, I don’t know how to build close friendship with girls my age! And all throughout my adult life, I always longed for that one man who would accept, complete and love me despite my flaws and imperfections (Yes! Pimples and all).  

But, that deep sense of security that springs out from a heart who knows she is well loved is something that I have never really experienced before. I realized I don’t always have to be perfect or strong or smart because I know I am loved even when I am not so.

A heart who knows that she is loved no longer spends her nights tossing about worrying about her tomorrows. A heart who knows she is loved no longer needs to put on her mask of empty joys and smiles that don’t reach her eyes.  A heart who knows she is loved is secure enough to believe that even if she might never meet a man to love her, she has already met The Man who completes her being. Instead, her quiet smiles, her calms and her serene rest springs from her inner joy – the self-realisation of being loved.

But there are nights like this when sleep don’t come easy while there’s a little voice at the back of your head that tells you that you have to be up and running by the break of dawn!! But tonight, I plugged my earphones as I browsed through my phone for some soothing music to fall asleep to…

But soothing music and falling asleep were the last thing that happened as I plugged on my earphones as Chris Rice belted out his "Smile" in his perfect warm honey voice. I found myself out of my bed, kicking my sheets away and up on my feet. The next thing I remember was dancing in the dark, my earphones firmly plugged and my phone steadily held. I no longer need to gaze at the shadows dancing on my ceiling as I become the shadow dancing, hopping and swaying barefeet across my moonlit floor…

Well, sleep has to wait tonight…

I am having one of my private moments with my Jewish Carpenter!

May 5, 2013


Dancing with the shadows,
Couldn't help but face the dark.
Shadowed Past bruised my heart
So I bruised yours in return!
And there are times I bled your pride
Shamed your name
Cloud your fame
But all the while you held my hand.

They tell me love, sweet love
Gives you fireworks;
Makes your heart go racing;
Gives you wings to fly.
They tell me love, Sweet love
 Feels like falling;
 Sweeps you off your feet;
Makes you want to soar.
But, love is what you showed me...

I get lost in the shadows,
You show me  the light.
My storm blew;
You bend quietly till it pasts.
You held my hand though it bleeds yours;
Wiped my tears instead of yours.
You’d rather be the last so I could be the first;
The dark sky, so my star could shine bright.
You gave me hope against hopeless hours;
Forgiveness through forsaken times;
Gravity to keep my feet on the ground;
Strength when my fight is gone!

So the next time, they ask me what love is…
No, I won’t tell,
I’ll show them…
… You...!

(Found these lines scribbled and tucked away in some random folder. Brings back some really good memories.... Ah!! That feeling of being in love!! 
I shall miss it terribly...)