Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
The Other Boot
From Mountain Wings -
The Other Boot
===============
My Father used to tell my brothers and me a story of World War I. While a young soldier was praying before bedtime one night,another soldier told him to stop that noise and threw one of hisboots at him.
The next morning, the soldier who had been praying returned the boot to its owner cleaned and polished, and asked for the otherone and said he would also polish that one.
My father said the young soldier was never abused again. I was only a little girl when my father told this story, but I have never forgotten it.
~Submitted by Meg Seaman, Australia
~ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let himhave your cloak as well. If someone forces you to go one mile,go with him two miles. (Mat 5:39-41 NIV)
Just felt that this email is so divine. Was chatting with my leader about some issues. He said exactly the same thing. Teared a bit over the phone cos its really tough, you see it in writing to turn the other cheek when someone slaps you in one cheek... But you are so hurt by the first cheek already that you cannot turn your neck! My leader urged me to do as much as my human strength allows me to and to stand there and wait patiently. After all, Jesus is still nice to people who mistreated Him.
What if you obey God and you turn your other cheeks and in the end both cheeks are equally scarred, mawed and slapped hard upon, what now? Probably as much as it hurts me, the hand that welded the stroke on my cheek is also hurting so much more inside?
I don't know how long this is going to last. I cannot take it anymore...God help me help me help me....Can I live without a heart?
:(
The Other Boot
===============
My Father used to tell my brothers and me a story of World War I. While a young soldier was praying before bedtime one night,another soldier told him to stop that noise and threw one of hisboots at him.
The next morning, the soldier who had been praying returned the boot to its owner cleaned and polished, and asked for the otherone and said he would also polish that one.
My father said the young soldier was never abused again. I was only a little girl when my father told this story, but I have never forgotten it.
~Submitted by Meg Seaman, Australia
~ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let himhave your cloak as well. If someone forces you to go one mile,go with him two miles. (Mat 5:39-41 NIV)
Just felt that this email is so divine. Was chatting with my leader about some issues. He said exactly the same thing. Teared a bit over the phone cos its really tough, you see it in writing to turn the other cheek when someone slaps you in one cheek... But you are so hurt by the first cheek already that you cannot turn your neck! My leader urged me to do as much as my human strength allows me to and to stand there and wait patiently. After all, Jesus is still nice to people who mistreated Him.
What if you obey God and you turn your other cheeks and in the end both cheeks are equally scarred, mawed and slapped hard upon, what now? Probably as much as it hurts me, the hand that welded the stroke on my cheek is also hurting so much more inside?
I don't know how long this is going to last. I cannot take it anymore...God help me help me help me....Can I live without a heart?
:(
Friday, October 26, 2007
Good Story from Professor John Powell
This is a good read sent to me by Carol. Enjoy! :D
A true story.>>>>>
Father John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy...
Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into>the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith. That was the day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders.
It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn't what's on your head but what's in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy under "S" for strange...very strange.
Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew. When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone,
"Do you think I'll ever find God?" I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. "No!" I said very emphatically.
"Why not," he responded, "I thought that was the product you were pushing." I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out,
"Tommy! I don't think you'll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!"
He shrugged a little and left my class and my life. I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line "He will find you! " At least I thought it was clever.
Later I heard that Tommy had graduated and I was duly grateful. Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a>result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe.
"Tommy, I've thought about you so often I hear you're sick," I blurted out.
"Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It's a matter of weeks."
"Can you talk about it, Tom?" I asked.
"Sure, what would you like to know?" he replied.
"What's it like to be only 24 and dying?"
"Well, it could be worse."
"Like what?"
"Well, like being 50 and having no values or ideals, like being 50 and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies in life."
I began to look through my mental file cabinet under 'S' where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)
"But what I really came to see you about," Tom said, "is something you said to me on the last day of class." (He remembered!)
He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, 'No!' which>surprised me. Then you said, 'But He will find you.' I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time." (My clever line. He thought about that a lot!)
"But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, that's when I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did not come out.. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying. And then you quit. Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit."
"I decided that I didn't really care about God, about an after life, or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: 'The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you lovedthat you had loved them.'"So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad.
He was reading the newspaper when I approached him.
"Dad."
"Yes, what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper
."Dad, I would like to talk with you."
"Well, talk."
"I mean...It's really important."
The newspaper came down three slow inches.
"What is it?"
"Dad, I love you. I just wanted you to know that."
Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though hefelt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him.
"The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me."
"It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years."
"I was only sorry about one thing --- that I had waited so long. Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to."
"Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn't come to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, 'C'mon, jump through. C'mon, I'll give you three days, three weeks.'
"Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour. But the important thing is that He was there. He found me! You were right. He>found me even after I stopped looking for Him."
"Tommy," I practically gasped,
"I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that. He>said: 'God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.'
"Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn't be half as effective as if you were to tell it."
"Ooh I was ready for you, but I don't know if I'm ready for your class."
"Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call."
In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date. However, he never made it. He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined. Before he died, we talked one last time.
"I'm not going to make it to your class," he said.
"I know, Tom."
"Will you tell them for me? Will you tell the whole world for me?"
"I will, Tom. I'll tell them. I'll do my best."
So, to all of you who have been kind enough to read this simple story about God's love, thank you for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven --- 'I told them, Tommy, as best I could.'
If this story means anything to you, please pass it on to a friend or two. It is a true story and is not enhanced for publicity purposes.
With thanks,
Rev. John Powell, Professor
Loyola University in Chicago
A true story.>>>>>
Father John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy...
Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into>the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith. That was the day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders.
It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn't what's on your head but what's in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy under "S" for strange...very strange.
Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew. When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone,
"Do you think I'll ever find God?" I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. "No!" I said very emphatically.
"Why not," he responded, "I thought that was the product you were pushing." I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out,
"Tommy! I don't think you'll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!"
He shrugged a little and left my class and my life. I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line "He will find you! " At least I thought it was clever.
Later I heard that Tommy had graduated and I was duly grateful. Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a>result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe.
"Tommy, I've thought about you so often I hear you're sick," I blurted out.
"Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It's a matter of weeks."
"Can you talk about it, Tom?" I asked.
"Sure, what would you like to know?" he replied.
"What's it like to be only 24 and dying?"
"Well, it could be worse."
"Like what?"
"Well, like being 50 and having no values or ideals, like being 50 and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies in life."
I began to look through my mental file cabinet under 'S' where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)
"But what I really came to see you about," Tom said, "is something you said to me on the last day of class." (He remembered!)
He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, 'No!' which>surprised me. Then you said, 'But He will find you.' I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time." (My clever line. He thought about that a lot!)
"But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, that's when I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did not come out.. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying. And then you quit. Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit."
"I decided that I didn't really care about God, about an after life, or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: 'The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you lovedthat you had loved them.'"So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad.
He was reading the newspaper when I approached him.
"Dad."
"Yes, what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper
."Dad, I would like to talk with you."
"Well, talk."
"I mean...It's really important."
The newspaper came down three slow inches.
"What is it?"
"Dad, I love you. I just wanted you to know that."
Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though hefelt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him.
"The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me."
"It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years."
"I was only sorry about one thing --- that I had waited so long. Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to."
"Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn't come to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, 'C'mon, jump through. C'mon, I'll give you three days, three weeks.'
"Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour. But the important thing is that He was there. He found me! You were right. He>found me even after I stopped looking for Him."
"Tommy," I practically gasped,
"I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that. He>said: 'God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.'
"Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn't be half as effective as if you were to tell it."
"Ooh I was ready for you, but I don't know if I'm ready for your class."
"Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call."
In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date. However, he never made it. He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined. Before he died, we talked one last time.
"I'm not going to make it to your class," he said.
"I know, Tom."
"Will you tell them for me? Will you tell the whole world for me?"
"I will, Tom. I'll tell them. I'll do my best."
So, to all of you who have been kind enough to read this simple story about God's love, thank you for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven --- 'I told them, Tommy, as best I could.'
If this story means anything to you, please pass it on to a friend or two. It is a true story and is not enhanced for publicity purposes.
With thanks,
Rev. John Powell, Professor
Loyola University in Chicago
Thursday, October 25, 2007
For every 3 that you save...
Recently I have come to realise some shortcomings of myself and how limited I am as a person...
Sounds like a bleak start to a blog posting but its great to be able to realise how small you are, put down your ego and really acknowledge that I need God's intervention, I need His hand in my career, my life matters and everything. I realise that how much God's help that I need and I really cannot carry everything to my shoulders. I got the blues...
For every 3 pupils that you save from turning bad, 1 child will slip out of the hole in the nets which contained children that you manage to save from drowning. For every 3 children that loves you and adores you, 1 child will view you as the most terrible teacher that he or she has ever met. For every 3 pupils that you helped pass the exam and improve in their work, 1 kid will not pass, no matter how hard you tried. That's when you know, you tell God, God I have tried my best, the rest is up to You...
G is one such little boy. Being very sweet and cute looking, many teachers will be taken in by his looks and not bear to lay their hands on him. When I took G on, he was quite subdued. But two months down the road, horns on him grew and it takes harder than a chainsaw to hack them off.
G is rather weak in his studies and he's in my remedial class. I have coached him and found that he's unwilling to learn nor share his things with the rest of his group mates. This causes a great problem as he slowly "evolved" into a sweet-looking class bully.He would open his big lovely eyes and stare at you and ask you for forgiveness, which would melt many a hardened heart.
During one of those remedial days, he punched a girl very hard in the stomach. Shocked by his behaviour, immediately called his parents, to which you have a protective mother who would go, "My son will NEVER do that, He spends most of his time in the after school care, I have no idea what he does..."
An exasperated beginning teacher with not much experience in handling such parents had nothing to say.
G continued his tour of antics. Drew grafitti all over another girl's worksheet, doodled pencil marks on his bright yellow desk...
SA2 Spelling exam was imminent. Teacher called G's mum again and advised her to watch that G actually prepared for his 30-word spelling. G's mum: "I have been coaching him, but he does not listen to me and watches TV. He's very distracted that boy..." or another response will be "the tuition centre (after school care) which I send him to will take care of his homework..." win liao lor... what can I say?
G was among the only 4 who failed the Spelling exams despite numerous practices in class.
G continued to refuse reading books during silent reading and talks in class. Teacher separates him from the rest. Continues his bad handwriting. Despite numerous nagging for him to write on the lines provided, he mumbles a plain "NO!" and refuses to budge. While his 2 of his group mates have improved from a failure grade to a Band 3 and Band 2 in their English results today. G still refuses to learn.
G missed the passing mark again...
For every 3 that you save... You would have to come to terms that there's this one special child that you cannot save. Is it the environment? His parents? Asking myself now, what kinda parent I would want myself to be when I eventually would have kids of my own....I can only pray and hope that G does not grow up to by a terrible child with bad character, too protected by what parents deem as love for the child...
Sounds like a bleak start to a blog posting but its great to be able to realise how small you are, put down your ego and really acknowledge that I need God's intervention, I need His hand in my career, my life matters and everything. I realise that how much God's help that I need and I really cannot carry everything to my shoulders. I got the blues...
For every 3 pupils that you save from turning bad, 1 child will slip out of the hole in the nets which contained children that you manage to save from drowning. For every 3 children that loves you and adores you, 1 child will view you as the most terrible teacher that he or she has ever met. For every 3 pupils that you helped pass the exam and improve in their work, 1 kid will not pass, no matter how hard you tried. That's when you know, you tell God, God I have tried my best, the rest is up to You...
G is one such little boy. Being very sweet and cute looking, many teachers will be taken in by his looks and not bear to lay their hands on him. When I took G on, he was quite subdued. But two months down the road, horns on him grew and it takes harder than a chainsaw to hack them off.
G is rather weak in his studies and he's in my remedial class. I have coached him and found that he's unwilling to learn nor share his things with the rest of his group mates. This causes a great problem as he slowly "evolved" into a sweet-looking class bully.He would open his big lovely eyes and stare at you and ask you for forgiveness, which would melt many a hardened heart.
During one of those remedial days, he punched a girl very hard in the stomach. Shocked by his behaviour, immediately called his parents, to which you have a protective mother who would go, "My son will NEVER do that, He spends most of his time in the after school care, I have no idea what he does..."
An exasperated beginning teacher with not much experience in handling such parents had nothing to say.
G continued his tour of antics. Drew grafitti all over another girl's worksheet, doodled pencil marks on his bright yellow desk...
SA2 Spelling exam was imminent. Teacher called G's mum again and advised her to watch that G actually prepared for his 30-word spelling. G's mum: "I have been coaching him, but he does not listen to me and watches TV. He's very distracted that boy..." or another response will be "the tuition centre (after school care) which I send him to will take care of his homework..." win liao lor... what can I say?
G was among the only 4 who failed the Spelling exams despite numerous practices in class.
G continued to refuse reading books during silent reading and talks in class. Teacher separates him from the rest. Continues his bad handwriting. Despite numerous nagging for him to write on the lines provided, he mumbles a plain "NO!" and refuses to budge. While his 2 of his group mates have improved from a failure grade to a Band 3 and Band 2 in their English results today. G still refuses to learn.
G missed the passing mark again...
For every 3 that you save... You would have to come to terms that there's this one special child that you cannot save. Is it the environment? His parents? Asking myself now, what kinda parent I would want myself to be when I eventually would have kids of my own....I can only pray and hope that G does not grow up to by a terrible child with bad character, too protected by what parents deem as love for the child...
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
PSLE marking...marking in school :P
Teaching has its perks and it is now I am enjoying my week's break in school and taking my own sweet pace to mark all the papers and assignments that I have given the kids.
Quite "eng" as some can testify to the number of sms-es and calls that I have been giving out...
Something cute to share la,
Last Friday was a half day for all Muslim students and staff. We were expected to release the kids at 1030am in the morning so that they could go home to prepare for the festive celebrations.
This kid came up to me (obviously not a Muslim).
Kid G: Miss Tham, Miss Tham! My mum's a Malay!
Rac: (thinking to herself what kinda joke they wanna pull) But Gilbert, your mum's Chinese! I have spoken to her and seen her. She's Chinese!
Kid G: No No No! Miss Tham, my mum's a Malay!
Rac: But why do you say that Gilbert?
Kid G: (idignantly) She's born in MALAYSIA! She's a Malay!
Rac: ... ... ...
Kids can be so candid at times :P
Quite "eng" as some can testify to the number of sms-es and calls that I have been giving out...
Something cute to share la,
Last Friday was a half day for all Muslim students and staff. We were expected to release the kids at 1030am in the morning so that they could go home to prepare for the festive celebrations.
This kid came up to me (obviously not a Muslim).
Kid G: Miss Tham, Miss Tham! My mum's a Malay!
Rac: (thinking to herself what kinda joke they wanna pull) But Gilbert, your mum's Chinese! I have spoken to her and seen her. She's Chinese!
Kid G: No No No! Miss Tham, my mum's a Malay!
Rac: But why do you say that Gilbert?
Kid G: (idignantly) She's born in MALAYSIA! She's a Malay!
Rac: ... ... ...
Kids can be so candid at times :P
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Monday, October 01, 2007
Love is...
Love is ...
Seeing someone smile after you praise that person...
Your special someone being rescued by some timely thing you did that needed your help...
When you toil, you pray, you watch and wait...
When there is no response is also a response...God in His most precious timing...
Not expecting anything, the risks you take in upholding the principles and what it takes to really take care of someone and be there for someone...
You get hurt, you get stab wounds from sharp words, from hard cold stares, malicious grapevine that puncture your confidence.
Choosing to love, You choose to be that clown when others told you to stop,
Choosing to grovel at the person's feet when others told you to let go and release.
Choosing to do things for the person even he or she may just spurn you, leave you alone in that corner hugging the guitar, playing the tunes...
Allowing God to fill in the emptiness of the heart, infill it with His love before jealousy, hatred, envy, malice, and suspicion sets in...
Fill up my tank with God's love...
He knows the pains of our lives and the desires of our hearts...
But wait, Love is also...seeing the people that we care for be happy releasing it to God, taking a step back...how many times have i said this and blogged this and putting it down literally....?
Seeing someone smile after you praise that person...
Your special someone being rescued by some timely thing you did that needed your help...
When you toil, you pray, you watch and wait...
When there is no response is also a response...God in His most precious timing...
Not expecting anything, the risks you take in upholding the principles and what it takes to really take care of someone and be there for someone...
You get hurt, you get stab wounds from sharp words, from hard cold stares, malicious grapevine that puncture your confidence.
Choosing to love, You choose to be that clown when others told you to stop,
Choosing to grovel at the person's feet when others told you to let go and release.
Choosing to do things for the person even he or she may just spurn you, leave you alone in that corner hugging the guitar, playing the tunes...
Allowing God to fill in the emptiness of the heart, infill it with His love before jealousy, hatred, envy, malice, and suspicion sets in...
Fill up my tank with God's love...
He knows the pains of our lives and the desires of our hearts...
But wait, Love is also...seeing the people that we care for be happy releasing it to God, taking a step back...how many times have i said this and blogged this and putting it down literally....?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
