A time to bury old hatchets, and embrace the Cross - Pt 1
Some things that happened in the past can come floating by when the Lord moves in our lives. When we are serious about growing, He will be serious about pruning. (Thank You Lord :D apprecaie it ).
Revisiting the past. I wanted to believe in a Living God. God must have been working in my life at that point to bring me back to Him. I used to love Jesus - and not realise it - till I was confronted by a friend of another faith that I was worshipping idols. She said, "the statues in the church are idols, and people pray to them. That means they are praying to idols." This statement shattered me when I was 8 years old, while waiting for the bus. I felt crushed. My experience in the few rare church visits of my childhood were limited to one session of colouring in Sunday school that I could recall.
The only other message of God that impacted me about God was a short animation of a man looking for God. The Anglican priest or Reverend brought it to our home and played it on our house's wall as a screen. The part where the man wandered from the lower point, and asking, Where are You, God? How can I reach you?" And even as he had reached the peak of the highest mountain, he could not reach God.
These few events formed the beginning of my journey to find God. Upon hearing the statement Jesus is an idol and the explanation of the a-year older friend, I ran home, crushed, and asked my mom whether I could embrace my friend's religion. She gave me the wisest answer I can recall, "Why don't you make a decision when you have reached 21?" Then she gave me freedom to learn about the acquaintance's (Aishah was her name) faith. I cannot fully recall what I learnt from her elders... Because at that point, the Jehovah Witnesses came a-knocking.
Two young ladies visited my mom, and my mom then allowed me to join them for their sessions. I had a good time with them for about a year. The people were friendly, and they had a well illustrated children's bible. The end of the Bibel showed a picutre of everyone in paradise, and the lion and lamb lying peacefully next to each other. I recalled stories of Moses, and Aaron's rod that budded with almond flowers, and other Old Testament stories. They always had makan too. I recalled at one of their important occasions, there was a plate of what I thought was mee siam (that I secretly took a generous helping), that turned out to be long strands of grated carrots. hahahah.
Then for some reason, when I was 11, my dad asked my mom to move to KL. And we did. So I said farewells to the kind JW ladies, and they gave me their contacts in KL. Being lazy, I did not make any effort to contact the KL group. KL was an initiation to true idolatry.
We were supposed to stay for a short stint with my uncle and aunt in KL in an area deep in Ampang. Then our downpayment for a house got swindled by the developer. We were left high and dry. So the short stint became about 15 years that my mom ended up staying with her sister.
My uncle's father was a medium. Hence my uncle and aunt worshipped their chinese deities. Slowly, my mom reverted to her roots of worshipping the chinese deities,My brother and I naturally followed suit, out of respect for my relatives and my mom. I was soon into memorising buddhist chants, and going for the occasional talks at a taoist centre when I came back from boarding school for holidays.
Kl and boarding school formed another part of my journey in the search for God.
In boarding school, another girl and I were taken under the tutelege of three seniors who took time to teach us the islam faith. At the end of the year, when they completed their studies, they asked whether we wanted to embrace their faith. My friend agreed. I was hesitant. So I demurred.
In my fifth year, the 3rd year students and 5th years students shared dormitories. I had a wonderful opportunity to speak and listen openly to a junior in my dormitory share her hopes and aspirations for herself and her family especially. She wanted to help her parents. Her father was a fisherman. The siblings had occasional disputes which she felt were troubling. She wanted to give them a better life. We were both members of the school band. She was not my junior, but she voluntarily polished my band boots when she did hers. I appreciated the kindness of this young new friend.
When the 2nd semester of that year started, I had no time to speak with her. School was packed with new assignments and activities. I overheard her telling her friends she was going to have a big bash at her birthday with balloons and other yummy food. (It was a great treat to have McDonald's and balloons for a birthday party in our almost a military-like government girls' boarding school).
Then a week or so later, on Sports Day, she collapsed during a 400m trial run, and died. Sports Day was cancelled, and we were told the cause of death was coronary thrombosis. Just like that, a young life was snuffed out. A young life that was just short few days of her 15th birthday.
Some of us felt deeply disturbed. Earlier on the day she died, she sat a row above me at the stadium. She was sharing to a friend how she had woken up very early that morning, and drank a milo that was far too sweet. I turned around and said to her, "Hey, when you wake up early next time, please wake me up too." She just smiled. later the day when we received the shocking news, I suddenly remembered our brief conversation that morning. So I said quietly, "It's ok, please don't wake me up."
Revisiting the past. I wanted to believe in a Living God. God must have been working in my life at that point to bring me back to Him. I used to love Jesus - and not realise it - till I was confronted by a friend of another faith that I was worshipping idols. She said, "the statues in the church are idols, and people pray to them. That means they are praying to idols." This statement shattered me when I was 8 years old, while waiting for the bus. I felt crushed. My experience in the few rare church visits of my childhood were limited to one session of colouring in Sunday school that I could recall.
The only other message of God that impacted me about God was a short animation of a man looking for God. The Anglican priest or Reverend brought it to our home and played it on our house's wall as a screen. The part where the man wandered from the lower point, and asking, Where are You, God? How can I reach you?" And even as he had reached the peak of the highest mountain, he could not reach God.
These few events formed the beginning of my journey to find God. Upon hearing the statement Jesus is an idol and the explanation of the a-year older friend, I ran home, crushed, and asked my mom whether I could embrace my friend's religion. She gave me the wisest answer I can recall, "Why don't you make a decision when you have reached 21?" Then she gave me freedom to learn about the acquaintance's (Aishah was her name) faith. I cannot fully recall what I learnt from her elders... Because at that point, the Jehovah Witnesses came a-knocking.
Two young ladies visited my mom, and my mom then allowed me to join them for their sessions. I had a good time with them for about a year. The people were friendly, and they had a well illustrated children's bible. The end of the Bibel showed a picutre of everyone in paradise, and the lion and lamb lying peacefully next to each other. I recalled stories of Moses, and Aaron's rod that budded with almond flowers, and other Old Testament stories. They always had makan too. I recalled at one of their important occasions, there was a plate of what I thought was mee siam (that I secretly took a generous helping), that turned out to be long strands of grated carrots. hahahah.
Then for some reason, when I was 11, my dad asked my mom to move to KL. And we did. So I said farewells to the kind JW ladies, and they gave me their contacts in KL. Being lazy, I did not make any effort to contact the KL group. KL was an initiation to true idolatry.
We were supposed to stay for a short stint with my uncle and aunt in KL in an area deep in Ampang. Then our downpayment for a house got swindled by the developer. We were left high and dry. So the short stint became about 15 years that my mom ended up staying with her sister.
My uncle's father was a medium. Hence my uncle and aunt worshipped their chinese deities. Slowly, my mom reverted to her roots of worshipping the chinese deities,My brother and I naturally followed suit, out of respect for my relatives and my mom. I was soon into memorising buddhist chants, and going for the occasional talks at a taoist centre when I came back from boarding school for holidays.
Kl and boarding school formed another part of my journey in the search for God.
In boarding school, another girl and I were taken under the tutelege of three seniors who took time to teach us the islam faith. At the end of the year, when they completed their studies, they asked whether we wanted to embrace their faith. My friend agreed. I was hesitant. So I demurred.
In my fifth year, the 3rd year students and 5th years students shared dormitories. I had a wonderful opportunity to speak and listen openly to a junior in my dormitory share her hopes and aspirations for herself and her family especially. She wanted to help her parents. Her father was a fisherman. The siblings had occasional disputes which she felt were troubling. She wanted to give them a better life. We were both members of the school band. She was not my junior, but she voluntarily polished my band boots when she did hers. I appreciated the kindness of this young new friend.
When the 2nd semester of that year started, I had no time to speak with her. School was packed with new assignments and activities. I overheard her telling her friends she was going to have a big bash at her birthday with balloons and other yummy food. (It was a great treat to have McDonald's and balloons for a birthday party in our almost a military-like government girls' boarding school).
Then a week or so later, on Sports Day, she collapsed during a 400m trial run, and died. Sports Day was cancelled, and we were told the cause of death was coronary thrombosis. Just like that, a young life was snuffed out. A young life that was just short few days of her 15th birthday.
Some of us felt deeply disturbed. Earlier on the day she died, she sat a row above me at the stadium. She was sharing to a friend how she had woken up very early that morning, and drank a milo that was far too sweet. I turned around and said to her, "Hey, when you wake up early next time, please wake me up too." She just smiled. later the day when we received the shocking news, I suddenly remembered our brief conversation that morning. So I said quietly, "It's ok, please don't wake me up."
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