Ordinary Radicals

Maybe we are a little crazy. After all, we believe in things we don't see. The Scriptures say that faith is "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Heb. 11:1). We believe poverty can end even though it is all around us. We believe in peace even though we hear only rumors of wars. And since we are people of expectation, we are so convinced that another world is coming that we start living as if it were already here. As prominent evangelical activist Jim Wallis says, "We believe despite the evidence...and watch the evidence change." So may we begin living as if poverty were over, and we will see it come to pass. May we begin beating our swords into plowshares now, and the kingdom will begin to be not simply something we hope for when we die but something we see on earth as it is in heaven, the kingdom that is among us and within us.

...

One friend was asked by a skeptic, "You all are just a little group of radical idealists. What makes you actually think you can change the world?" And she said, "Sir, if you will take a closer look at history you will see...that's the only way it has ever been done." Welcome to the irresistible revolution, a new and ancient way of life that is so attractive, who would settle for anything else? Welcome to the revolution of little people, guerrilla peacemakers, and dancing prophets, the revolution that loves and laughs. The revolution begins inside each of us, and through little acts of love, it will take over the world. Let us begin to be Christians again. Jesus, give us the courage.

Shane Claiborne, The Irresistible Revolution: living as an ordinary radical (2006)

Nepal from a state of shock

I'm back from a short ten days in Kathmandu and Nagarkot in Nepal. I'm still emotionally and spiritually overwhelmed from what I've seen and experienced, and the people with whom I became friends with or interacted. I remember each one of you, no matter how brief our encounter, that's why I remember you in this poem I wrote for you.

I wrote this on the flight back to Singapore.

12/16/10

Eyes that sore
Eyes that flood
Why are goodbyes so hard?

Eyes that beg
And those that burn
Aflame with ambition and hope

I look into your soul
And you were all blood inside
Sometimes seeping out from bandage
Sometimes blooming in beauty

Look into mine and you'll see, you'll see
A rainbow of hope and tears
We laugh together and fall flat on autumn leaves
Orange, golden, red

We'll live a better tomorrow
Look into my eyes, my soul
You'll see...

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Here's a late post of another cover I did with Ian - Bruddah Iz's Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Teddy, a mutual friend, did a really great job recording and mixing it.

It was a lot of fun coming up with the ideas and filming them down. We filmed all the takes in one afternoon at Ian's church, Bartley Christian Church. Bartley sends laborers to the mission field and has a spiritually maturing community; I've seen and is still witnessing God work amazing changes into the lives of my handful of friends who are in this community.

Props goes to Ian who edited the entire video because he has iLife '11. We want to honor God for the creativity, friendship, and laughter that went into this video, and for growing our musical talents by leaps and bounds as we train it and use it for his Kingdom.

View it in HD to enjoy the original sound quality :)

If you liked it, subscribe to us!

Ian Chew > http://www.youtube.com/user/ianamores
Me > http://www.youtube.com/user/daphvader

falling slowly with INCS

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xcmUmcLPZco

First -collab- collab. This is one of my favorite songs and I had been looking for some time for a voice that would suit the song and sound really nice with how my voice sounds. Stuff happened and I found Ian! (Thanks Olie and Sarah for the encouragement.)

Ian has a unique voice and plays guitar crazy well. Check him out and subscribe to him!

http://www.youtube.com/user/ianamores

dream a little dream of me

My cover of Ozzie Nelson's Dream a Little Dream of Me with our brother Eugene from last week!
>>> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hdLezyPnVQ4

Going to jam with Marc and Daryl again later this evening!

radio pulze

I'm going to be on my campus radio station coming Tuesday! Honestly I've never tuned it to it before, and when I tried last week, I couldn't either. But as an advice I got goes, it's just going to be a good experience!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Nbv0rjmD0s

Life

I just massacred 7 commander ants and a lot of other normal worker ants. And I don't feel good about it at all.

The ants were just doing what they have been doing since they were created! They were just finding food to feed their colony. Wouldn't it have been a better if food was kept or thrown away so that they wouldn't be attracted to it in the first place?

Now I'm beginning to see why many non-industrialist societies revere life. They kill animals only when in need and eat respectfully and in gratitude for the fact that animal lives have been sacrificed in order for them to physically and religiously benefit from it (which is also a great foundation for them to understand Jesus as the Ultimate Sacrifice!)

Same goes with the baby chili plants that my sis and mom planted for my sister's school project. Now that the teacher finds no use for the plants, there seems to be this oblivion to what the students will do about them. We all know that well - we had to do the same project when we were in primary school. And the most common reaction is to just let the plants die, or throw them away in the trash.

Have we forgot how sacred life is? These chili plants and ants have been entrusted to us by God so that we can care for them with discretion on how they benefit us. Plants don't express emotions like animals do, but God made them grow all the same. God is the one who makes our hearts beat, who gives food and energy to the animals, and makes sure seeds develop into strong plants.

It's discomforting and amazing at the same time for a city kid like me for God to open my eyes to see him in everything, including everything that has life. He prepared the earth, skies, and everything extra-terrestrial to be conducive so that he could create life to live in it, and ultimately people to obey his first command ever and take care of his creation. We're so honored to be given this sacred task of helping to manage the lives all around us!

So God created human beings in his image. In the image of God he created them. He created them male and female. God blessed them and said, "Have many children and grow in number. Fill the earth and be its master. Rule over the fish in the sea and over the birds in the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth." God said, "Look, I have given you all the plants that have grain for seeds and all the trees whose fruits have seeds in them. They will be food for you. I have given all the green plants as food for every wild animal, every bird of the air, and every small crawling animal." And it happened. God looked at everything he had made, and it was very good.

How the world began (Genesis 1)

cooler than me

here's my interpretation of mike posner's Cooler than Me after 14-some hours of making everything in the video. it was so challenging to come up with a entirely different interpretation...and it could only be God who gave the tunes!

you can check out the original version here to see the contrast.

the way i am

My cover of Ingrid Michaelson's The Way I Am. You can check it out here :)

>>> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=odvoD6tUSQg

vader tribute

I had a lot of fun making this! Maybe I should speak more in Vader-voice next time ;)

>>> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pi8SPqb2Quc

I value vulnerability, honesty, and openness, so I make an effort to show people the mess and the excitement in my life.

But there are just a few things in life that you wouldn't share with anyone easily in fear of God. Maybe all the more so when these thoughts and feelings are in their early stages. You only tell God because He absolutely knows what you're thinking and feeling. At least right now.

I don't know where all this will lead me. What I know for sure, is that I'm not ready just yet. Time will tell if I am thinking too much or seeking satisfaction in an idol instead. Or if it will blossom into something beautiful.

bragged

These two days I suddenly realized that in my brash eagerness to learn and experience God in the past year. I had actually bragged in Jesus' name. About my goal for this year, about my experiences with God, and my convictions.

If the me now were to be right there listening to the me nine months ago, I would either have cringed, felt awkward, or wonder how this girl could be so sure about herself and her future when it's ultimately unknown.

So awkward, so awkward, so awkward.

So glad that God forgives me as I repent of my pride and proud words.

To think I said this stuff to my ekklesia, the people I love, my beloved family in Christ.

So awkward!

king of anything

Jamming again with Daryl. Check him out at http://www.youtube.com/kenasai too!

On campus on a late Sunday afternoon to jam and feed mosquitoes at the same time. Other than that, it was great time trying to push our limits, like singing at the original key which I thought was too high. But I managed..could only be God!

daphvader

If you haven't seen it, it's the new project that I said I was working on. Now that the first video is up, I'm really excited and I'm working on more stuff. It's such a great way to push myself to explore how I can create or interpret music. I love it!



Be sure to like, comment, favorite, subscribe!

You were

a Siamese twin who shared one heart with your slightly older brother.

The doctor had to operate to keep one of you alive, and your brother offered himself up instead. He asked the doctor to separate him from you. He ended up as a huge lump of severed flesh thrown away together with the rest of the biohazard waste of aborted babies, placentas, cancer, ovarian cysts, and amputated body parts.

You feel bad, but you know it's the only way for you to live.

Your brother was Jesus, who is also my brother.

We're all connected to each other through him because he died for us all.

You say so and so is the love of your life. Jesus says the same, and he literally practiced it to the full extent by dying for you. He's already died for you when no one else has! Unless you are one of the few amazingly fortunate people in GivesMeHope.com and accounts of war and violence. (WOW.)

Jesus did nothing wrong, but he chose to die for your hatred and blasphemy towards God...so that today you can choose to be alive, not with a heart of stone, but a beating, living heart of flesh.

You can run free and breathe free and play the guitar, eat ice cream, be with whom you love. Because your Brother gave up his life for you.

Great news is, he's come back to life. So will I when I die. He will return and we will be together again, in love with everyone who has followed him through peaceful lives, fire, amputation, gladiator fights, and all kinds of unthinkable suffering.

If it sounds radical, it is. Jesus is radical in his love for you...if only you would stop rejecting and discounting and see this truth that gives you life and freedom!

This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.

The only messenger out of the twelve Jesus appointed
that died out of old age, 100-110 AD

(10 died in torture or execution according to traditional records, 1 committed suicide after betraying Jesus)

the heart connection

It's easy to ignore or rattle off the criticisms of someone you don't know...until you not only can put a face to this person who's so different from you, but your heart also connected with his.

I was just waiting for the bus one night and this guy sitting next to me asked me for the time. He had been scribbling notes on a scrap of paper and then tucked it away into his bag. He was dressed in a very neat and proper way. It's kind of Southern. He was waiting for his friend who was late.

We were both going to ask each other a question but somehow I got to ask my question, "So where are you from?" We realized that we had lived in the same state. Of all places in the world! He was the first American I met outside of the US who was from there. He still is.

We started chatting and he said he had been in the region for just a few years already and was looking forward to going back home soon. He said it felt very good to hear someone speak in a way he was familiar with. He sounded maybe more than a little homesick.

It was a really good five-ten minute chat. But when I asked him for his name, his face changed. It was just a short pause and his smile was gone in a quick hesitation. He showed me this plastic tag he had on his neatly pressed shirt that told me he was a Mormon. That would make sense, he was here for a pretty long mission trip.

I told him my name and I talked in a good way about some Mormon missionaries I met who wanted to reach deaf people. Soon after my bus came so I had to go.

I felt sooo overwhelmed on the bus. It was strange but I felt very strongly a flow of compassion coming out from me. It could only be Jesus doing it in my heart like the Bible's records of him feeling immediate love for strangers he met (Mark 6:34, 10:21).

I felt his pain strongly when he had to tell me his name since I asked. It wasn't really a name, just a last name that would typically be all the more generic in the polygamous family structure I think Mormons have. It was a faceless name that had no meaning to the personhood and wonderful personality God had given to this man.

I sensed that he was very lonely in his time here in a foreign country. He was thirsting for a friend who would appreciate him as a person, not as a faceless follower of a belief system. And religion seemed more of a big rock of burden than devotion for him. It seemed like we couldn't be friends now that he told me his name and thus his religious identity. He had to put on his missionary role now..after all, he is here as a missionary.

Now when I think of Mormons, I think of him. This charming man whom I feel pain for because he is defaced and caged in by religion. I was like that once...through my teenage years till I was 20 under the Christian religion.

Jesus, set him free with your truth! He's precious and charming just the way God has created him to be. He has unsurpassable value that you actually already died for him before he was born. Give him courage to find the real Jesus, break all the deceptions that has been bound onto him by Satan and others. Use your people to change his heart as he seeks you. Give him courage to leave his community when the time is right...into your arms and the love of your true followers!

David Choi

Over the weekend I've been checking out David Choi now that he's in Singapore (for the first time!) for a local musical festival called Baybeats. I have to say that I sure am inspired to do some things I've been holding back for fear of people judging me to be what I'm not. I'm being vague right here but something exciting should be coming up in the next month or two...I'm waiting for ideas from God. Right now there are quite a few playing in my mind as I get around to places every day..

(via Anthony, who flew down from Kuching, Sarawak to see David!)

David, Josh, Jack, Geri, and me after the Meet and Greet at Timbre Old School
Jack flew down from Bangkok just to see David too.

Heading out on the tram at the Night Safari!

The bunch of groupies who kind of chilled out at Night Safari with David.
Kind of because the safari was ok, but the company was great!

Geri, me, David, and Josh

David is incredibly honest and humble. It's easy to talk to him and cast away my image of him as a famous Youtuber when we talked. Like Geri said, it feels like you're just talking comfortably to a friend. I love meeting new people, and I love people like David who takes personal interest in new people, and have no qualms about talking about their own lives.

I'm not a fangirl, but inspired by his workshop about being a Youtube musician, I went to read his bio and the lyrics off his album By My Side. It's really great to know we share a similar vision, i.e. to make music that is meaningful and encouraging. So...I'm just waiting on God to know how I can serve him with my voice, maybe to a deeper extent that what I am doing now, which is basically just singing in my college's chamber choir for the semester, and jamming on and off when we're free..

I don't know. I'm just thinking..so exciting.

At the night safari, he said he would

RESPEKT

Washing dishes for 8 hours is quite a personal feat, not physically but spiritually. It can only be God who always makes it fun albeit tiring and sometimes boring. It is such good training to train my new self to be humble, and my proud old self to die like a squashed bug. Or in the words of my friend Denesh, I murder my old self.

I've only done it thrice so far. And the aunties do it every day!!! And the moms and sisters of some of my friends in the Philippines..for much longer hours and a pay much lower than thirty times of mine.

RESPEKT.

Maybe we attach too much stigma to dishwashing that people usually respond in pity or shock when I tell them about it. Except my mom, who aches that her precious daughter is literally cleaning up the mess but sees the value of doing it. So she trusts me and lets me do it...she is so amazing.

Washing dishes on Sunday probably beats going to a church service where I take much effort to be physically still and yet not snooze off.... :p God teaches me a lesson about humility and self-denial right there as I wash and dry the dishes, and clear the sink periodically flooded with brownies and fudge. Looks like a clogged toilet haha!

You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

A genocide-leader-turned-Christ-follower to
our family in Ephesus (southwest modern-day Turkey), AD 62

This morning, my mom had just been feeding Kitty's mom. As usual the cat hissed, and the baby imitated her and hissed at my mom too! And my mom was melted away by its cuteness. It was just going 'om nom nom nom' while it ate the food.

When it got hit, my mom went down to check the situation. The baby's mom mewed at her and kept staring at her even from a far distance. How to help when death happens?

After the baby's body was taken away, its dad and mom came by and kept sniffing at where it got hit, bled, and died.

Just before it rained today, the baby's mom went back again and kept sniffing and licking at the baby's bloodstains.

My mom teared the whole day. She had seen the baby grow up, and she saw the car tire roll the baby over a good two times.

Most of what I've said..it's what my mom saw. She really cares and she's really compassionate.

So many thoughts in my mind right now, running down different lanes...like a highspeed maze.

Today's been a day of grief.

how did we ever start hating them?

My eyes are sore and tired from bawling and crying and tearing most of today. It probably burned a lot of calories because I felt so tired the whole day.

How did we ever start hating our parents? Thinking they are nags, earsores, and people who take away free time from us?

Somewhere along the line, we've let selfishness eat away at the absolute adoration and pure love we had for our parents when we were little. And we replace this beautiful, innocent love with ungratefulness, getting picky at them and dismissing what they say...all cunningly in the name of independence, self-respect, and privacy.

What a lie we've believed in.

The last time I felt I so safe and loved by my parents when I was hurt was almost 14 years ago. Why had I rejected my mom's hugs and tears when she ached for me when I was hurt ever since then..until today?

How did this isolation ever happen in my life? God, show me. I feel you are showing me these things now because you know I am ready for it. Not to say it won't hurt, but I'm ready for it.

waking up to death of a small baby

What a cute cat! We had a new baby around the block that looked like this. It belonged to a pair of strays in my area, except that it had blue-green eyes.

(via meejoebee)

When it was born a month ago, it was mewing and mewing while mom went out to find food the whole day so she could nurse it and its other one or two siblings. I never saw them personally until they were about a week-old, but my mom did. She would peer out of the window every day for countless times. When it was about to storm, her heart ached and went out to kitty's mom who hunted for space underneath a car safe enough for her one remaining kitty to play and rest in.

Kitty was one active and playful baby. Once when it started walking, its mom wanted to carry it, but it ducked so that it could walk. Haha! And its mom who had nursed many babies before it was careful to defend it from people. She made good effort to give a good long hiss at us even when we brought food or we just stopped by to look. She wanted as little attention as possible...I guess that tells you how much unwanted attention she's got from people.

And late this morning my mom woke me up to say that a car just drove over kitty. Like literally a moment ago. Kitty liked to play on the wheel, and my mom said Kitty's mom had meowed at it many times to tell it to come down cos it was dangerous. Today, what Kitty's mom feared came true..the wheel rolled over kitty who was playing right on it.

It was spasming in pain for a while and lay limp. Its eyes came out of the socket and blood rolled across the eyeballs. Its tongue was out in foam, and its hairs all stood up - muscle contraction symptomatic of physical death. Its mom licked it once in the tummy and it spasmed for a while, like a baby who jerks for a bit while sleeping.

When I rushed down to look (and my mom for the second time), the sight was more sad than morbid. Kitty's mom hissed at me again and I just looked from afar. The feeling of death.

It was so limp. Now I saw in detail its small paws, with the black paw prints on it. So small and tender, almost like a teddy bear. I couldn't bear to see its distorted face. Squatting and looking at it from its back, this baby looked like it just fell asleep.

Even with so much affection, I couldn't bear to carry the baby to a grass patch away from that parking lot. It was a baby, and it was dead. I felt so uncomfortable, as if the sleeping baby had somehow turned into a morbid body in my mind. My mom, as brave as she is, cringed. She tried to lift the baby by its limp and soft tail, but picked it up on its baby paws instead.

The cleaner in our area knew what happened, and I pleaded him to leave the baby there for its parents. But he came by after we left and dumped it in his trashcart. Its dad and mom were there and came over to sniff where it died to figure out what happened...there goes a month of its mom's intense loving care and protection, and two months of growing it in the womb.

Many kittens in urban areas die within five months of being born from car accidents or trauma.

Death, what a strange thing. Jesus, will there be cats in your new Kingdom?

with my bro and his dawgs

Jamming with my bro Tim and his army friends for the first time. Tim is the guitarist on my right! The sound quality is imbalanced, but it was otherwise awesome and super fun!

This is my first time jamming in a studio, my first time singing with a rapper. Props to Aloy who actually plays guitar, but decided to rap instead since we were covering these songs.


Love the Way You Lie, Rihanna ft. Eminem
(Camel, Tim, me, Aloy, David)


Airplanes, B.O.B. ft. Hayley Williams

P.S.: I was actually singing with a throat very sore from belting very low notes for fun before that (not gonna do it again T.T). Only God can make such a hurt throat function so well!

Love

Jaeson Ma, ft. Bruno Mars

taking the rap

Work has still been fun after a month proper. Of course there are some unpleasant moments but that definitely cannot discount the overall fun. I'll tell you what happened today while sparing you the notsonecessary details.

I was scolded for doing something wrongly though I probably wasn't the person who started it. I must say that a thought did pass me that I should correct it halfway but I ignored it. So it's kind of messy: you can't put a finger to a single person and say, "Ha! You're the culprit. You're wrong."

For maybe like the next twenty minutes, I felt bullied and unjust. The 'scolder' (lol) didn't know the whole story, neither did I. I wasn't smiley as I washed the dishes, and I swallowed whatever tears that was going to come outttt.

Why was I even taking the rap for something that I might not have done? This is not the first time.

I refused to find out whoever started it, and I still do. Not for fear that the culprit might really end up to be me, but because this 'not me' attitude of the world is so poisonously self-preserving.

Then I saw this string of words appear in my mind: "Friendship is taking the rap."

And I don't have to tell the culprit I am taking his/her rap, because I don't want to find out who in the first place. My motives would be more condemning than redemptive if I did.

As I washed the dishes and swallowed my unhappiness, I became more and more convinced that by taking the rap, it was really good for me and the Kingdom of God. The old, self-preserving Daphne dies (since no one can bully a corpse). The new Daphne's focus is kept on eternity since God will bring all these out on the table again for scrutiny and judgment, and all I do now better be up for that, with the righteousness and spiritual riches Christ has given to me.

Then BAM, this thought came that said, "Jesus also took the rap for all of us working here". I believe Jesus would have done the same if he worked here at my workplace.

In my heart, I asked God for comfort, whether I'm the culprit or not. And I thought it would be nice if Train's Hey Soul Sister came up on the radio since it sounded cheery enough to wash away at least some of my unhappiness.

A minute later, Hey Soul Sister came on.

WOW. God is soooo...I don't know. He made every effort to talk to me and comfort me when I was upset right there washing dishes. He really cares for me..as a daughter that he hugs so closely to his heart.

is this thought too radical? i dont know

Live a life full of love like Jesus and people will kill you if they can.

armchair theoreticians

I just wrote this, like maybe five minutes ago. I'm hoping to get in to this desk for a monthly paper for my faculty where I get to write what I think. Putting it up here in case this article (or me) doesn't make the cut!

P.S.: I've switched to Century Gothic since UWGB found out that it is the most ecofriendly font (for the Roman alphabet). Saves 30% more ink than EcoFont. Oh but wait, Ecofont might save more paper than Century Gothic.

Armchair theoreticians

Daphne Tan

Each time a person stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, these ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.

Robert F. Kennedy

With knowledge comes empowerment, but often also deception and cynicism. At least that’s what I’ve realized in my own life.

I’m on to my final year now and I’ve learned so much about the world at FASS. It’s intellectually stimulating; I’ve become more appreciative and open-minded towards different opinions and personalities. But the knowledge pretty much stopped there – I was an armchair theoretician with nothing practical to offer humanity in return.

That troubled me. It is so easy to live in our own comfy little bubbles, a parallel universe where only people like us exist: college-educated, middle class, English-speaking, elitist, even…and ignore worldviews and lifestyles different from ours maybe because they seem to threaten our own. Not to mention the denigration and outrageous violence that is happening right here in Southeast Asia, to say the least.

We can evaluate to no end about social injustice, ideological and systemic failures, altruism, grassroots movements and so on, and yet have no compassion for the very people who are oppressed and suffer. Or we can get so caught up with fundraisers and volunteer projects and forget who and what they are meant for. Or judge others for not being as socially sensitive and active as we are, replacing compassion with anger to fuel us to help others.

Have we become too cynical for hope? Being hopeful doesn’t mean being starry-eyed, thinking that we wake up every morning to cotton candy and hot air balloons, and go to bed in Nevereverland. Maybe what true idealism means is to still believe that every of our small act of compassion counts, especially because the world sometimes seems to be too complicated and ugly: our good intentions turn stale or bad. We second-guess people and we assume things since we cannot know every thought of someone else. Theories may be so perfect in themselves, but we are not. All of us live with our own wounds, needs, and desires. Each one of us carries our own creativity, baggage, and personality. Change cannot happen unless we express our opinions about an issue and do something about it.

Have our eagerness to forgive and see the best in the worst of everything when we were kids corroded away into an ugly bitterness apparently justified by knowledge? Getting out of the comfort zone to know the Other takes courage, and sometimes your own friends might even raise eyebrows at you allegedly for being ‘weird’. Life is too short for us to be normal anyway. It’s too boring. With the school year starting again, I’d love to live increasingly by compassion than be contained in my own social recluse. Life like that is more real and exciting.

creating

With Daryl and Marcus on Sunday night, and Quen and Amelia behind the scene recording this. Thanks Quen for recording and editing the video!

I was introduced to Wordle, a simply ingenious online program that lets you create your own word clouds. I'm using these to draft up a flyer for my community's booth at the orientation fair on campus.

Titled Don't Worry

Ekklesia

And a final one before going to bed - my word cloud on what it means to follow Christ every day.

Alive Again

scum of the earth

The woman who dropped by for a waffle with avocado ice cream talking to herself nonstop...the tired mom and her Down-syndrome son dead asleep on bus 75 at 10.30pm with their bags full of cans and bottles.

The short guy who was shoeless in KL Sentral. He had a club foot and possibly Down syndrome too. I can't help but wonder...were those men making fun of him? They actually bent over from shrieking in laughter at 8am in the morning. He smiled at them, amused. But around the corner, he was almost running; an awkward violent waving of hands to balance his exaggerated, frantic steps. He bobbed away out of my sight.

Lord, how could I have forgotten? That behind every face lies an ongoing story. Broken dreams and new ones, wounds, and desires. Needs and personalities and a million trains of thought.

How can my heart not be broken? Imagine all the ridicule and unwanted attention they get for being something they didn't choose to be.

This scum of the earth as the world sees it, you use for your kingdom. Use them greatly for your kingdom. The endless joy in them...it's from you. Because they are innocent, deliberately kept from doing evil, and you love them.

"Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?"

James, to victims of the first institutional persecution
against Christ followers in history in the AD 70s

dream summer job

Finally a summer job that I've been dreaming of for a year! Come visit me at The Daily Scoop Sunset Way.

(via accidental epicurean)

(via the simplest aphrodisiac)

Beyond the Church Bells

(via Samaritan's Purse)

"Some yearn to live within the sound of a churchbell, I'd rather run a rescue mission within a yard of hell."

C.T. Studd, early modern missionary to China,
English national cricketer, late 19th. c

ultimate pwnage

I want to meet Jesus in person...

in the midst of my demonic nightmares
at night or when I am alone threatened by bad images
when I'm having trouble in the bathroom
when I know I've done him proud
when I am sad for my family
when I am walking through dark alleys
when I run to cry in a corner
by my bed every night before I sleep
in NIE and te years of fulfilling my teaching contract
when my mom grieves
at UP's Freedom Park to chill
when I sing or train my voice
every time I laze around on my bed
in the battlefield
at funerals
in the theater when they are screening sinful scenes
and bring him to meet my family
when I am giddy
when I leave this world
when I come back to life after I die

When I was in the Philippines, I saw an image pass by. I know the Evil One deliberately let my brain register an unpleasant image, though it was just split-second image. The image didn't come back, but two days ago, it came back when I was just falling sleep.

For the past two weeks that I've been back, I've been dreaming bad things involving murder or lust. It is Grotesque and in my dream I didn't think about God at all. These days it's not so frequent. I rebuke in Jesus' name and I don't let them affect me.

Last night I watched a really good movie. My only regret was that I deliberately watched some scary scenes though I knew my highly visual self wouldn't be able to keep these images away from my dreams.

I went to bed in the dead of night on guard and wary. I could feel that my room wasn't safe. The demons were playing with my mind, replaying some of the images from the movie and from my nightmares over the past two weeks.

In my heart, there was a strong urge. A voice to write this poem of sorts, to rebuke the demons, and to call out to Jesus. As I wrote the poem, the fear I felt in my bedroom was leaving. For the second time in my life, I was very sure that Jesus was in my room with me. I didn't feel his presence, I knew he was there at 3am with me.

In case you are creeped out, don't be. Evil exists in our hearts, and there is a Mastermind behind all this evil. Of course he is sooo angry he is tearing living people down right now, and he's super-intense about it because he knows he doesn't have much time left (Revelations 12:12). He accuses us incessantly about our imperfections and failures, he wants to devour us so that we cannot bring people under his control back to life through believing and following Jesus (Revelations 12:10; 1 Peter 5:8).

Yesterday I'm so glad Jesus won that battle in my bedroom with me. I claim victory not by my own credits (demons are not impressed by our achievements), but by the blood of Jesus Christ, which has broken the ultimate threat of death the demons have over every human that has lived on earth (Ephesians 1: 20-21, 2: 6-9).

So to sum up: Satan, you suck big time and you have no right to attack me. My Jesus has pwned you left right center.

the singing people of los baños

The only singing Filipinos I've ever met were the UST singers when they sang at the Esplanade Concert Hall in 2008. I thought that maybe they would somehow be different from the many Filipinos I see in Singapore. Their massively beautiful and dynamic voices must be partly because of their tall and well-built gait.

Then I met the singing folks from the UPLB (Uni. of Philippines Los Baños) Choral Ensemble. They weren't the Anglo-ish giants that I had in my mind, just ordinary folks like me who are really committed and passionate lovers of choral music.

Two of my team mates and I bumped into a group of them (Rommel, Jacob, Jedd, Jae, and Reg) at Freedom Park at the UPLB campus. They were just practicing some songs, chilling at the really chill park, and that's how we all met. Two days later, we were so privileged to be invited to their rehearsal. Nothing's like live good choral music, and their singing brought back some of the vague sounds and wonderful feelings I remember while I still sang with a choir in Singapore.

Then it was time to leave. The five of us had to head back for our next program. And then they decided to sing for us to thank my teammate for translating an Indonesian song for an upcoming competition. Listening to them sing was one thing, listening to them sing for us was another. It was magical.

And they were going to sing one more song, and they invited us to sing with them this time round. That was super-kind of them, especially when it was precious rehearsal time because they were competing two days later! In a flurry of noises, it somehow ended up with just me joining them. They were talking about a certain Singapore Medley, which sounds like a mashup of local folk songs and national songs.

Then the most beautiful thing happened.

They began singing Ikaw!!! I thought we were going to sing the medley thing?!

Ikaw 'You' is about the only Tagalog song I can remember almost in its entirety, thanks to the lyrics that some girls wrote for me while painting my henna tattoo. It's a love song by Sharon Cuneta made famous by Regine Velasquez. Some Filipino men like to sing with their wives at their wedding. I'm still wanting to know which arrangement we sang.

I was too moved and overwhelmed to tear, but I could tell you I was on the verge of it. I'd like to think that this is exactly how I would feel if someone I love got down on his knees to propose to me. Yes, it was that romantic and sweet and lovely.

Singing with them also brought back some of the old fears that haunted me when I sang in the choir. It kind of became a self-fulfilling prophecy and I probably sounded like a pretty timid soprano.

Yet at the same time, their loving on me really moved me.

Do you know how much effort it takes to sing well? It is a very tiring thing. Your whole physical body engages in producing the different tones and tunes, your mind pulls out what you have memorized and and practiced so hard about the song's technicalities, your interpretation of it, and its meanings. On top of that, you put your heart and soul into it - literally - emotionally. It's kind of heart to separate them because I believe singing is a deeply personal (and corporate) thing, but I think you get the point. It is very tiring.

And the song finishes into a momentary silence. We just magically connected looking at one another and singing, and I was very touched.

There was no way we could retain that gift of love that we both gave. It just ended, and it would never happen again. The same feelings, the same people, the same event...that's why I cherish it so much.

My only regret is that we didn't take a picture with everyone there!!! I want to be back again next year and hopefully get to know them more.

The UPLB Choral Ensemble has inspired me. I don't have formal musical or vocal training, I'm small and short, and I only started singing proper in 2005.

But God has given me a voice. A marvelous instrument that shows both how vulnerable, healthy, and attractive I am when I use it. What will I do with it? Jesus warns in the Parable of the Talents that he will take away my singing talent if I do nothing with it, but he will refine my voice by leaps and bounds if I use it for his Kingdom.

To think that I was out at Freedom Park asking God for people I could befriend and hopefully share Jesus with. God has proved to me again that he is in everything and everyone, with Jesus being the fulfillment of this lovely singing episode. If just a song moved me so much, how much more it moves me to know someone died on my behalf so I can live in freedom, hope, and love!

And out of all possibilities, God let our paths cross. What do you have in plan for our new friendships, God?

The UPLB Choral Ensemble
(via Philippine Chorale Wiki)

It's pretty sweet that I can watch their videos on Youtube and go, "Hey! I know him/her!" or "I've seen her before! We actually sung together." Well, at least some of them.

I love how God connects people around the world with their passion for music.

how will life change?

May 29, 2010

The plane just took off for Singapore.

Goodbye was hasty, and my eyes were shifty. Maybe I should have told people that it's because I'm only wearing contact lens for my right eye and it got a little hard to focus.

I haven't found the black pen I bought in Phils, but I got some kind words of thanks in return. The Caldosas have been so thankful, and they make an effort to express their gratitude together as a family. They amaze and inspire me so much. In them I see a glimpse of the joy, gentleness, and hope my family would have when they follow Jesus Christ. I know it will happen, it is just a matter of time.

Who would I miss? Jason, Salve, Ate Jonalyn, Ramon, Dado, Rommel, Jedd, Jae, Reg, Carlo, Marian, Rose Ann, Lorden, Ate Nora, Ate Viring, Ate Lo, Mathew, Anton, Aldrin, Ailyn, Mark Joseph...Maybe many of their names will fade away in my memories, but God, I know that you have known each of them before the earth was created. You oversaw them in their moms' wombs, and you want to be involved in their desires, interests, and wounds.

How will life back home be like? I will once again return to where I live, where my friends are. How will life change? How will I interact with people? How will I look at people differently? How will I interact with my friends differently?

I can't believe I left you. There was so much goodbye I wanted to say, I'll miss you.

my love letters to you

May 29, 2010

Oh Phils! If only you would read all these love letters I write to you.

Today I will leave in about five hours' time. It is both sad and amazing that every single combination of events and people will never happen again.

Maybe it's not about 'losing' these moments that will never happen again - they change me. These moments that fade away...they translate into emotions, beliefs, and memories in my heart that will change the way I live and think.

Filipinos are so beautiful.

an overwhelmed heart

I just got back from a three-week escapade to Los Baños, the Philippines to learn more about God, and how I can serve him through helping people. What I got in return was a super-fascination and excitement about the people, their creativity, and the culture.

They are so beautiful - the women so feminine, the men so charming, the youths and kids so lovely.

I have felt so much in my heart, and I still continue to feel much of it. And it is very overwhelming yet again, for me to come back to Singapore (is it because of her grotesque capitalism and her cruelly distorted fast pace of life?). Overall, I still feel very overwhelmed (in a good way) it is hard for me to put everything in words.

So within this week or two, I will put in here just a few of my journal entries for the last week so you can ease your curiosity.

May 28, 2010

I hate saying goodbye, but I still survived it again yesterday night. Dear God, why do we always have to say goodbye? Even in the perfect world you created, you intended for people to fill the earth. And that means people had to part from each other.

I thank you for helping me live in a way that leaves a good impression on younger girls, and hopefully they recognize that the beauty they see is the beauty of Jesus Christ.

I'm sitting on the floor of the jeepney now, crammed with my team. I see a beautiful view of the Makiling forest as the jeepney drives on. A view that few people see...the 'back' of the forest in reverse time. Even if we drove back along the same route, they would never catch the same view I have.

But this beautiful view is obscured by the silhouettes of my friends all crammed in the vehicle. What little I know of the Phils has been just as beautiful, though I don't know much about it, or even the life stories of each individual I meet. Mysterious and fascinating.

Mahal kita, Phils.

courageous faith

Not long ago, Mehdi Dibaj had to appear before the judge in Iran. In the courtroom, a defense written by Dibaj himself was read. It sounded like the testimony of a modern Paul. In the next few days we will copy this testimony in abridged form, without trying to rewrite it in devotional form. The testimony speaks for itself.

With all humility I express my gratitude to the Judge of all heaven and earth for this precious opportunity and with brokenness I wait upon the Lord to deliver me from this court trial according to His promise. I also beg the honored members of the court present to listen with patience to my defense and with respect for the name of the Lord.

I am a Christian, a sinner who believes that Jesus has died for my sins on the cross. Jesus paid the penalty for our sins by His own blood and gave us new life so that we can live for the glory of God. He has asked me to deny myself and to be His fully surrendered follower and not fear people even if they kill my body.

I have been charged with “apostasy”. In Islamic law an apostate is one who does not believe in God, the prophets or the resurrection of the dead. We Christians believe in all three.

They say, "You are a Muslim and you have become a Christian." (In many Islamic countries a Muslim who becomes a Christian may receive the death penalty.)

No, for many years I had no religion. After searching and studying, I accepted God’s call and I believed in the Lord Jesus Christ. People choose their religion, but a Christian is chosen by Christ. He says, "You have not chosen me but I have chosen you."

People say, "You were a Muslim from your birth." God says, "You were a Christian from the beginning." A Christian means one who belongs to Jesus Christ.

I would rather have the whole world against me, but know that the Almighty God is with me, or be called an apostate but know that I have the approval of the God of glory. Who can destroy the relationship between the creator and the creature, or defeat a heart that is faithful to God? He will be safe and secure under the shadow of the Almighty. Our refuge is the mercy seat of God. I know in whom I have believed, and He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him to the end, until I reach the Kingdom of God. That is the place where the righteous will shine like the sun, but the evildoers will receive their punishment in hell.

They tell me, "Return!" But who can I return to from the arms of my God? Is it right to accept what people are saying, instead of obeying the Word of God? I have now been walking with the God of miracles for 45 years. His kindness to me is like a shadow and I owe Him so much for His fatherly love and concern.

The love of Jesus has filled all my being and I feel the warmth of His love in every part of my body.

The test of faith is a clear example. The good and kind God tests us in preparation for heaven. The God of Daniel, who protected Daniel’s friends in the fiery furnace, has protected me for nine years in prison. All the bad things that have happened to me have turned out for my good and gain. So much so, that I am filled with joy and thankfulness.

The God of Job has tested my faith and commitment in order to strengthen my patience and faithfulness. During these nine years He has freed me from all my responsibilities so that I could spend my time in prayer and study of His Word, with heart searching and brokenness, and grow in the knowledge of my Lord. I praise the Lord for His unique opportunity. He gave me space in my confinement, my difficult hardships brought healing and His kindness revived me. Oh what great blessings God has in store for those who fear Him.

People object to my evangelizing, but "If you find a blind person near a well and keep silent then you have sinned." (A Persian poem.)

It is our Christian duty, as long as the door of God’s mercy is open, to convince evil doers to turn from their sinful ways and find refuge in Him, in order to be saved from the wrath of a righteous God and from the coming dreadful punishment.

Jesus Christ says, "I am the door. Whosoever enters through me, will be saved." "I am the way, the truth and the life. No-one comes to the Father except through me."

Among the prophets of God, only Jesus Christ rose from the dead, and He is our living intercessor forever. He is our Savior and He is the Son of God. To know Him means to know eternal life.

I, a useless sinner, have believed in Him, and I have committed my life into His hands. Life for me is an opportunity to serve Him, and death is a better opportunity to be with Christ. Therefore, I am not only satisfied to be in prison for the honor of His holy name, but am ready to give my life for the sake of Jesus my Lord and enter His Kingdom sooner. May the shadow of God’s kindness and His hand of blessing and healing be upon you and remain for ever. Amen.

With respect
your Christian prisoner
Mehdi Dibaj

"What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us?"

Dibaj was set free two months after he wrote this "defense" – but was killed soon afterwards. Yet, even though he is dead, he still speaks.

(via Open Doors International)

Goodbye

Airports.

Sometimes when friends leave, separation is bittersweet. The tears were playing hide-and-seek, I felt a hole that gaped and breathed in my chest.

Suddenly, excitement and many kinds of awesome melts away to uncover the things that have always been there. The sounds of the highway, the mynahs in love, dipping a fry in chili sauce, the tourist's lethargy in the departure hall...the stillness of my footsteps. Since there's no hangout to rush to.

A bittersweet loneliness.

Life is never the same again. It changes, bringing new people in while some old ones leave.

I guess the best part of it all is that many of these friendships last literally for ever.

Bittersweet is beautiful. There's beauty in friendship and beauty in my loneliness for now.

I miss you and I love you. Can't wait to see you again in eternity, if not this life.

Dedicated to Richard Latimer, 景扬, 魏昕, and Andrew Poon,
beautiful people walking on paths that
God decided to cross with mine.

always embracing

I got off the bus and stepped into an all-familiar warmth that embraced me. The tropical sun that is warm and always gentle, it never bites.

The warmth wrapped around me, first between each of my legs and then my arms. Yes, this is the sun I know since I could remember it. I never realized this, and realizing it made me enjoy my walk home. Suddenly, everyone was walking so fast again, even though it was a lazy Saturday late morning.

Then the short breezes that come and go. They teased my hair and pecked me on the cheek before saying goodbye.

Passing my old apartment, I saw pieces of a red eight of hearts strewn across the floor, its sides neatly cut. But that was too much too bear. It was too cold under shelter, cold and drabby like a damp cell - I needed to feel the lovely embrace again.

And I saw the blue against which the trees were imprinted...

So the skies here are beautiful, it's just that the damp prison cells we live in cover them up away from us.

I smiled, keeping that small piece of hindered blue sky into the locket of skies in my heart. I bring the locket wherever I want to go.

I was home.

That ten-minute walk was simply magical.

dogged defenses?

So I have some burning questions. I'm curious to know what believers understand of these issues...

1. Are some cultures spiritually or morally superior to other cultures?

2. Are people whom God convicts to leave inferior or superior to those whom God convicts to stay and reform?

3. When people leave a church, the church may spend quite some time and effort to keep in touch with them. Why might they the church be upset that these people don't 'return' though the two sides may be on good terms with each other?

3a) If the way people 'do' church today is the best/most biblical way of expressing Christ's commands ("Love one another", and "Make disciples of all nations"), doesn't that mean that the early believers, and underground believers in North Korea and Cambodia are practicing a deficit faith?

OR

3b) If the way people 'do' church today is a cultural expression of Christ's commands, is this expression superior to other cultural forms of expressions?

I guess it's understandable or maybe even natural for us to make extra-biblical assumptions about different things because we grow up being taught so, and we seldom experience alternatives.

What raises my eyebrows is when we doggedly defend them as biblical truth when it is not in the Bible, or sometimes the Bible warns against it. Lol. Or sometimes we are repeatedly unwilling to check out what God says about these issues in the Bible even though we know that's where we find the truth.

Isn't this why 'Christians' have persecuted one another throughout history, blasphemously, in the name of Jesus Christ? Today, the persecution goes on, more so through verbal violence in the Western/Westernized parts of the world because of modern legal restrictions against physical violence.

Strikingly, nowhere in the New Testament do we find the terms church (ekklesia), temple, or house of God used to refer to a building. To the ears of a first-century Christian, calling an ekklesia (church) a building would have been like calling your wife a condominium or your mother a skyscraper!

George Barna, and Frank Viola in
Pagan Christianity: Exploring the Roots of Our Church Practices (2008).

Just one of the things I wonder about...

I am a followers.

Warning: some preliminary brain vomit.

At the same time, my butt is going into random spasms wanting to vomit too. HAHAHA. Sorry I couldn't resist making a weird joke, but it's true.

I've been learning about this concept called the entrepreneurial self. This ideology is everywhere, I realized. I mean ideology to be a concept, a way of thinking (not in a bad way since everyone is by nature subjective). We grow up breathing and living on it, at least in Singapore. In layman terms, the entrepreneurial self is someone who relies on himself and is highly capable of voicing his personal views and lifestyle in public spaces. If he needs help, he can rely on the resources he has built up for times like this: friendships, relationships, organizations he joins and contributes to. Others see him to be a burden, a freeloader if he doesn't solve his problems himself.

Originating from the postwar human potential movement from counseling and psychotherapy that emphasized on 'talking your feelings', the entrepreneurial self is valued for his ability to analyze himself and talk about his personal life amazingly in public situations. From this concept we get the notion of "sharing" and "discussion", and our endless sentences that start with "I think", "I feel", and "for me".

I'm not saying that these are bad in themselves. Every generation has their own dominant ideologies, and for our generation, it seems to be increasingly this: in schools, in workplaces, in the government, in clubs and societies, in religious institutions.

I think I am a very entrepreneurial self. Of course it can be difficult sometimes, and I end up feeling like I'm being despised by some people in authority. But I know that I am a good storyteller by God's grace, I can share my personal feelings and stuff like that as you can see from this blog.

If I'm not careful, I will forget that living Jesus is a communal thing. The focus on the individual that came especially from the past two centuries through preachers such as Charles Finney, and D.L. Moody, and the Methodists has pretty much pervaded most of Christianity. As a follower of Jesus Christ, I find myself sometimes thinking culturally in similar individualistic ways as many Christians do.

And I forget that Jesus' key commandment for all believers is "Love one another". I can't love-one-another myself, and if Jesus is right that loving others is the biggest commandment, then community life is integral to living like him. It's not just about having friends who are believers, but obeying and serving the Lord together every day.

Following Jesus is a personal heart-thing and a communal matter. To my generation, I'd like to stress the latter. There has never been a place for individualism in God's family of believers, and I hope we would be careful to live humbly and joyfully in a community of believers too.

Jesus billionaire

The Prosperity Gospel from The Global Conversation on Vimeo.

People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge men into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.

1 Timothy 6: 9-10

You will be made rich in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God.

2 Corinthians 9: 11

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

Galatians 2: 20

Heart change

Thanks for reading this blog. I have a wish for you, and I believe someone else very close to many people's hearts for thousands of years has the same wish too.

My wish for you is a heart change to love.

A spiritual surgery and renewal
that will take a whole lifetime,
and will make you more and more
charming/beautiful in God's sight.

"It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.

Jesus, preaching on a mountain in 1st c. AD

This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.

1 John 4: 9-10

I'm on this constant journey of heart change with many others, constant because it is a daily decision to let Jesus wrench away my selfish motivations and replace it with his love. And I hope you would join me!

we fade away like grass

I went for my scheduled ambulance run at jurong firestation today from 8am-9pm. Initially it was all quiet and dull. The dispatch radio stayed silent, time just seemed to pass ever so slowly. I was eagerly anticipating the siren to go off and itching to get some action. Just as I was slumped in my chair enjoying a mid-afternoon nap, I got my wish. The sirens blared and the announcement that I had imagined the whole morning in my mind pierced the silence in the dreary firepost. "Alpha 411 mobilize!" Ok those weren't the actual words but that was all that registered. I sprang out my drowsy state, grabbed my steth and followed the paramedic.

All i knew about the call was that it was a road traffic accident along PIE. Along the way further updates were passed through the radio and the paramedic informed me to brace myself as we were in for a very serious RTA case. "1 collapse case and 1 amputation case - Jon, take the defibrillator and follow the medic and update me on the status of the patient, I'll be with the other casualty". Right after delivering his instructions, the paramedic phoned for back-up. Nothing the paramedic said could have prepared me for the sight at the scene. I stepped out of the ambulance and saw 2 motionless bodies, 2 damaged lorries, 1crushed motorcycle and lots of debris/flung-off cargo spread across the entire width of the expressway. Police officers were already at the scene diverting oncoming traffic to the side road. The lorry driver ran up to me, face-bloodied, asking to be attended to. On hindsight I think the medic brushed him off and asked him to wait in the ambulance first as we would tend to the other 2 victims first.

As I ran towards the 1st victim, a middle aged Indian, the severity of the accident started to sink in. To my horror I saw him lying prone, covered with blood and torn bags of rice; all that was left of his left leg was a stump. I needed a few moments to scan the surrounding area and noticed his severed leg lying 10meters away in front of the badly damaged lorry. The paramedic then motioned for me to go over to the motorcyclist and check his pulse. I wheeled the stretcher over, knelt down over his motionless body and placed my 2 fingers over his radial artery praying and hoping that I would feel something pulsating. His eyes were open and fixed, no sign of breathing and his body was contorted. 10s, no pulse. I tried again and I thought I felt a tready faint pulse and told the medic. Help came and the medic pronounced him dead, no pulse and likely spinal cord injury. No defib needed, not even CPR. Another ambulance arrived and our team rushed back to 411 and attended to the lorry driver who was by now complaining about difficulty breathing with blood in his nose. He sustained maxillofacial lacerations but was otherwise stable. Just set an IV line and gave supplemental O2. I was still kindda reeling in shock on the way to NUH and it was obvious that the paramedics were quite taken aback as well.

It just dawned on me that its so true, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Even as I watched the video footage on the news I was reminded about the fragility of life. How often we feel we're in control of our life, that we're powerful and invincible when God can just take that away in an instant. And life is such a beautiful thing that i'm guilty of taking for granted. Today's close encounter with death has further reinforced my desire to do medicine, though very often there's seemingly not much you can do, I believe the value of life itself far surpasses everything and that despite our limitations we ought to give it due respect. I have a queer habit of sometimes putting my palm against my chest and feeling my own heartbeat. Its intriguing, how this awesome muscular organ can keep beating without ever tiring. Somehow it makes me feel vulnerable, and to make the most of each day (i find it really hard!), and reminds me that God should be in control. And yeah, I'm definitely reconsidering biking in the future.

(via Jon, a Medicine undergrad. He doesn't blog but he's let me put his story up here.)

The Killing Man

Pat
04/17/07 at 02:48 PM

Yes, I Gas Dogs and Cats for a Living.
I'm an Animal Control officer in a very small town in central North Carolina.
I'm in my mid thirties, and have been working for the town in different positions since high school.

There is not much work here, and working for the county provides good pay and benefits for a person like me without a higher education. I'm the person you all write about how horrible I am.

I'm the one that gasses the dogs and cats and makes them suffer. I'm the one that pulls their dead corpses out smelling of Carbon Monoxide and throws them into green plastic bags. But I'm also the one that hates my job and hates what I have to do.

First off, all you people out there that judge me, don't. God is judging me, and I know I'm going to Hell. Yes, I'm going to hell. I wont lie, it's despicable, cold, cruel and I feel like a serial killer. I'm not all to blame, if the law would mandate spay and neuter, lots of these dogs and cats wouldn't be here for me to gas. I'm the devil, I know it, but I want you people to see that there is another side to me the devil Gas Chamber man.
The shelter usually gasses on Friday morning.

Friday's are the day that most people look forward to, this is the day that I hate, and wish that time will stand still on Thursday night. Thursday night, late, after no one is around, my friend and I go through a fast food line, and buy 50 dollars worth of cheeseburgers and fries, and chicken. I'm not allowed to feed the dogs on Thursday, for I'm told that they will make a mess in the gas chamber, and why waste the food.
So, Thursday night, with the lights still closed, I go into the saddest room that anyone can every imagine, and let all the doomed dogs out out their cages.

I have never been bit, and in all my years doing this, the dogs have never fought over the food. My buddy and I, open each wrapper of cheeseburger and chicken sandwich, and feed them to the skinny, starving dogs. They swallow the food so fast, that I don't believe they even taste it. There tails are wagging, and some don't even go for the food, they roll on their backs wanting a scratch on their bellies. They start running, jumping and kissing me and my buddy. They go back to their food, and come back to us. All their eyes are on us with such trust and hope, and their tails wag so fast, that I have come out with black and blues on my thighs.. They devour the food, then it's time for them to devour some love and peace. My buddy and I sit down on the dirty, pee stained concrete floor, and we let the dogs jump on us. They lick us, they put their butts in the air to play, and they play with each other. Some lick each other, but most are glued on me and my buddy.

I look into the eyes of each dog. I give each dog a name.
They will not die without a name.
I give each dog 5 minutes of unconditional love and touch.
I talk to them, and tell them that I'm so sorry that tomorrow they will die a gruesome, long, torturous death at the hands of me in the gas chamber.
Some tilt their heads to try to understand.
I tell them, that they will be in a better place, and I beg them not to hate me.

I tell them that I know I'm going to hell, but they will all be playing with all the dogs and cats in heaven.
After about 30 minutes, I take each dog individually, into their feces filled concrete jail cell, and pet them and scratch them under their chins.
Some give me their paw, and I just want to die. I just want to die.
I close the jail cell on each dog, and ask them to forgive me.

As my buddy and I are walking out, we watch as every dog
is smiling at us and them don't even move their heads.
They will sleep, with a full belly, and a false sense of security.

As we walk out of the doomed dog room, my buddy and I go to the cat room. We take our box, and put the very friendly kittens and pregnant cats in our box. The shelter doesn't keep tabs on the cats, like they do the dogs.

As I hand pick which cats are going to make it out, I feel like I'm playing God, deciding whose going to live and die.
We take the cats into my truck, and put them on blankets in the back.

Usually, as soon as we start to drive away, there are purring cats sitting on our necks or rubbing against us.
My buddy and I take our one way two hour trip to a county that is very wealthy and they use injection to kill animals.

We go to exclusive neighborhoods, and let one or two cats out at a time.

They don't want to run, they want to stay with us. We shoo them away, which makes me feel sad.
I tell them that these rich people will adopt them, and if worse comes to worse and they do get put down, they will be put down with a painless needle being cradled by a loving veterinarian.

After the last cat is free, we drive back to our town.
It's about 5 in the morning now, about two hours until I have to gas my best friends.

I go home, take a shower, take my 4 anti-anxiety pills and drive to work.. I don't eat, I can't eat.
It's now time, to put these animals in the gas chamber. I put my ear plugs in, and when I go to the collect the dogs, the dogs are so excited to see me, that they jump up to kiss me and think they are going to play.
I put them in the rolling cage and take them to the gas chamber. They know. They just know. They can smell the death.. They can smell the fear.
They start whimpering, the second I put them in the box.
The boss tells me to squeeze in as many as I can to save on gas.

He watches. He knows I hate him, he knows I hate my job.
I do as I'm told. He watches until all the dogs, and cats (thrown in together) are fighting and screaming. The sounds is very muffled to me because of my ear plugs.
He walks out, I turn the gas on, and walk out.

I walk out as fast as I can. I walk into the bathroom, and I take a pin and draw blood from my hand. Why? The pain and blood takes my brain off of what I just did.
In 40 minutes, I have to go back and unload the dead animals. I pray that none survived, which happens when I over stuff the chamber. I pull them out with thick gloves, and the smell of carbon monoxide makes me sick. So does the vomit and blood, and all the bowel movements. I pull them out, put them in plastic bags.

They are in heaven now, I tell myself. I then start cleaning up the mess, the mess, that YOU PEOPLE are creating by not spay or neutering your animals. The mess that YOU PEOPLE are creating by not demanding that a vet come in and do this humanely. You ARE THE TAXPAYERS, DEMAND that this practice STOP!

So, don't call me the monster, the devil, the gas man, call the politicians, the shelter directors, and the county people the devil. Heck, call the governor, tell him to make it stop.

As usual, I will take sleeping pills tonight to drown out the screams I heard in the past, before I discovered the ear plugs. I will jump and twitch in my sleep, and I believe I'm starting to hallucinate.

This is my life. Don't judge me. Believe me, I judge myself enough.
Bad thing is I'm just as much a devil as Pat is, doomed for condemnation. Many times I have hurt people like Pat in ways I don't know or choose to ignore.

(via New York Bird Club)

"The command was meant to bring life, but for me it brought death. This happened so that I could see what sin is really like; the command was used to show that sin is very evil. Just as everyone must die once and then be judged, so Christ was offered as a sacrifice one time to take away the sins of many people."

Romans 7: 10, 13; Hebrews 9: 27-28

Jesus, thank you for freeing me from myself and from my wounds and trauma to follow you! And love your animals, and your people.