hello you:)

keep your head up this week k. did you know that you can get out of the boat you’re in, and if you fix your eyes on Jesus, walk on water?

so don’t struggle to stay afloat with all the stuff you’ve got; walk on water. cheers.

happy to be on the Rock of Ages

“I chose you . . .” ( John 15:16 ). Keep these words as a wonderful reminder in your theology. It is not that you have gotten God, but that He has gotten you. God is at work bending, breaking, molding, and doing exactly as He chooses. And why is He doing it? He is doing it for only one purpose— that He may be able to say, “This is My man, and this is My woman.”

(Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest)

pointing feet

last night, on the way home i overslept so badly i woke up on a road surrounded by forests and was frightened. turns out they rerouted the stretch after my stop, because there was an accident and they closed both roads. the passenger beside me had been there since nus so after debating between calling daddy and getting him to rescue me, and poking the shoulder of this perfect stranger, i decided it would be more practical to poke the shoulder because he would be able to tell me where i was, as opposed to announcing to my daddy that his daughter was lost, and she was in a forest. in the end, we got down in the middle of nowhere and walked along lonely streets, him accompanying me while i retraced my steps to the building “with the giant frog” (i recognised the road along sakae sushi’s headquarters). i waved goodbye after getting up 28; i think we were both bemused.

safely home, daddy came and massaged the rest of my headache away before i fell asleep. i feel like i’ve been sedated these days.

look hard

if you know how, you find hearts shining out of our eyes.

as opposed to beating selves up…

God: or better, the Lord Jesus. I tremble lest I should in any way offend my Eternal Lover. And whatever passes between us take note of this: All shall be revoked at His command. I am such a great, cumbersome boor to be “dove driven.” Oh, how delicate are the tuggings of my Beloved, and how calloused my responses. Above all else I will that He might find in me the travail of His soul and be satisfied. But this is a hard thing when I speak to you, for somehow, the pleasing Him and the getting you are in conflict. I don’t pretend to explain it; I can only describe what I feel- and that not very adequately.

Since you left it has been as if a film has been over my soul. My genuine fervour in prayer was gone for two days. Too much rubble so that I couldn’t get to building the wall. See Nehemiah 4:10 for this. Notice, it was not the outward opposers that hindered the work so much as the inward clutter. Not “destruction” from outside forces so much as “decay” within. But the proof of God’s hand comes in the affirmative answer to Sanballat’s mocking in verse 2. “Will they revive the stones out of the heaps of rubbish which are burned?” The zealous Jews did. Apply this to us and imagine a little while. Are we willing to build with a trowel in one hand while our other hand grasps the sword? The building (God’s work) must go on, and if there is to be battle as we build, very well, let us strengthen the “lower places” (v. 13). And I say to you the words of Nehemiah to the nobles, “The work is great… we are separated. … God shall fight for us” (vv. 19,20).

I must confess to you, Bett, that I have had regrets about going even as far as we did in physical contact, and that was very little as most judge. We must guard against this if we are ever together again, for it gave me a whetted appetite for your body that I have found to be “rubble” in getting to the work. You must be hard on me in this; I know we do not have the same mind or makeup, and I feel that I need more of yours than you need of mine. Nietzsche has a word for us here: “One must discontinue being feasted upon when one tasteth best; that is known by all who want to be long loved.” Do you get what he means by this: “Far too long hath there been a slave and a tyrant concealed in woman. On that account woman is not capable of friendship: she knoweth only love”? … Fear not to hurt me with the Living Sword, yea, strike to this purpose. Be more than a lover- be a friend. We spoke of this at the moonrising tryst. “Love one another, as I have loved you.” Remember?

But how shall I praise the Lord for removing the film this very morning? Confession is good for the soul; it was imperative for mine this morning. I cast it all upon him and John’s truth about “cleansing from all sin” was very precious. Oh, how sweetly He “preached peace” to one that was far off (Ephesians 2:13, 17)… Nearness was the theme of my song and the thoughts seem well expressed in #136, Little Flock hymnal. The vail is rent, our souls draw near- / Unto a throne of grace; /The merits of the Lord appear,/ They fill the holy place.

Oh, Bets, let us ‘undistracted be’ in our following.

Just to show you what a poor journalist I am, I will quote my time in composition of this leter: two hours. Part of it due to typing, I’m sure.

Have you been delivered after the fashion of Psalm 116:8, “Thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling”?

Tenderly,
JIM

(Chapter 26, A Letter At Last, Passion and Purity, emphasis mine)

hurray for misty endless path

this post is solely put here as a marker, that here. at this point week 8 of school has ended. i didn’t like it at all, it was heavy and a struggle to get through.

IT’S OVER.

so。for now,
wednesday = happy(:

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the problems of post brownie baking

are numerous, chieftest of which is dealing with the baking tray. chewy brownie batch#2 solidified to the point of becoming rocky brownie after i had to leave the house for daddy’s birthday dinner with the family whilst it was still baking, so only setting the timer and crossing my fingers. my mom, bless her heart, now labours under the impression that her daughter baked cookies yesterday.

but anyway, it was all very, very worth it. every single bit of choosing, making, travelling, waiting. hm yes.

pearls slipping softly off the strand

heyy, guess what i just found out. the mooncake festival’s tomorrow.

i don’t know why i call it mooncake festival; certainly didn’t grow up liking them although am very partial to durian snowskin mooncakes now, but yeah, point is the candles and lanterns will be out tomorrow night, and rachel has no one to play with :/

i remember laterns being the ultimate highlight, the electronic battery operated ones that could sing and blink and all sorts of definitive cool stuff vs. the pretty paper ones that thrilled simply because you could place fire in them. nothing beats real, baby fire on top of candles, yo. and when i was a child i admired the teenagers who made giant pictures out of candles that could be seen from the higher floors of hdb flats. i knew i didn’t know where to place them waxy things, where the eyes would go or the big smiles, but the big kids knew, and so i peered over the corridor barricade of the top storey and appreciated the glowing, bright mickey mouses and hello kittys.

also, was away last year on exchange when zhong qiu jie took place, and i was upset at missing all the fun until a hongkong student shared her one mooncake her boyfriend’s mom gave her, with us chinese souls in hall. i got a crumbly slice, and it consoled me.

tomorrow, i will, i will.. i will celebrate the festival of pretty paper lanterns, baby fire and colourful candles somehow, even if it means celebrating it by myself. nehh fuddie-duddies.

.

P/S the title from a rememberance of anne of avonlea. so i went googling for it and here you go. ‘just a happy day’ is full of typical montgomery magic, and the bit where anne and paul were conversing about dyrads and pieces of old sunshine made my heart skip a beat; it comes to me that i’ve a person or two who are my pauls, my words and thoughts people and this wonderful realisation, it makes me mucho happy.

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