Monday, January 30, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Resolutions
2012: it's a new year alright. While I have not resolved to do anything yet, I happen to come across an article that caught my attention. It was entitled, Resolving to Lose More than Pounds: What theology might have to do with your New Year’s resolution.
The article was an interview of Gary Thomas who wrote the new book, "Every Body Matters", and what surprised me was his perspective on food, fitness and how we can be better stewards of our bodies in order to prepare and grow ourselves more spiritually.
The interviewer, Matthew Lee Anderson, asked what Thomas meant when he suggested that 'our efforts should not be for fitness per se, but building a "silver soul"', and Thomas pointed out that "The goal is not an athletic looking body or a magazine-worthy body", but to understand that "We keep up our bodies because our bodies carry our souls. They are what we minister out of, what we speak out of, what we travel out of, and ultimately what we pray and worship and serve out of."
Taking it to the church, Thomas said that, "If a church publicly proclaims physical fitness as a biblical value that stems from the stewardship of our bodies, if we accept the passage that 'our bodies are not our own, but we're bought with a price,' we'll start to get in shape within the church out of love for God." I thought this made so much sense! I need to remember that this body of mine is not really my own, but bought at the price of Jesus' death and ought to be used as a vessel for Christ.
In order for me to do that, I need to keep fit. :)
Speaking from his own experience, Thomas also said that "Some of my best times worshipping are when I'm out on a run. And that feeds my Sunday morning worship." I thought that was pretty awesome. I never could connect with God like that during my runs. I think I'll have to relook into the way I view my exercise, that is to not exercise just to be fit (for whatever other motives), but to exercise for God and be a good steward of this body that He has given me.
Blessed new year.
The article was an interview of Gary Thomas who wrote the new book, "Every Body Matters", and what surprised me was his perspective on food, fitness and how we can be better stewards of our bodies in order to prepare and grow ourselves more spiritually.
The interviewer, Matthew Lee Anderson, asked what Thomas meant when he suggested that 'our efforts should not be for fitness per se, but building a "silver soul"', and Thomas pointed out that "The goal is not an athletic looking body or a magazine-worthy body", but to understand that "We keep up our bodies because our bodies carry our souls. They are what we minister out of, what we speak out of, what we travel out of, and ultimately what we pray and worship and serve out of."
Taking it to the church, Thomas said that, "If a church publicly proclaims physical fitness as a biblical value that stems from the stewardship of our bodies, if we accept the passage that 'our bodies are not our own, but we're bought with a price,' we'll start to get in shape within the church out of love for God." I thought this made so much sense! I need to remember that this body of mine is not really my own, but bought at the price of Jesus' death and ought to be used as a vessel for Christ.
In order for me to do that, I need to keep fit. :)
Speaking from his own experience, Thomas also said that "Some of my best times worshipping are when I'm out on a run. And that feeds my Sunday morning worship." I thought that was pretty awesome. I never could connect with God like that during my runs. I think I'll have to relook into the way I view my exercise, that is to not exercise just to be fit (for whatever other motives), but to exercise for God and be a good steward of this body that He has given me.
Blessed new year.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Bittersweet
Today is New Year's Eve.
I've been wanting to reflect on the past year, and I told myself that I should reflect tomorrow, or in the coming week. Then I figured that I might as well do it today. I'm definitely worn out from the past few weeks, but it's now or never. Tomorrow ain't coming because there's always tomorrow.
Leaving the army is bittersweet. These two years have been an immense blessing from God, yet I couldn't wait to get out either.
Many people I've met couldn't wait to get out too. Many have expressed how these two years have been a waste of time, time that they could have used to do a million other things other than rot in camp. But I differ. I wanted 'out', but I did not look forward to ORD particularly. I've learned many things, gained many things, and more importantly, these two years have cemented my relationship with God. It's cliche, but honestly speaking, I actually had a positive NS experience.
Looking back not just over the past two years but all my twenty years, I'm thankful for God's faithfulness. 1 Corinthians 10:13 resonates greatly because indeed, He did not let me be tempted or tested beyond what I can bear, and He has always faithfully provided a way out so that I can stand up under it.
In the past, I tried to 'make it' on my own, to strive on my own, to be able to show others that I can make it, yet knowing that deep inside, I'm in fact not who I seem to be on the outside. Full of insecurities, I was afraid of what others thought of me. I measured myself by others' expectations and what others could accomplish. I tried to imitate, and I realised that I'm forever lacking, forever falling short, forever unable to meet those expectations, and I pushed myself even harder because of that.
That pride set me up like a trap for a greater fall. Shame and embarrassment sunk in whenever I fell short. It sucked. It hurt. The front that I tried to put up crumbled despite my efforts to mask my iniquities and weaknesses. Yet, when Jesus came into the picture, saying, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness.", it rocked my world.
I had my struggles. The gospel message was more 'fire and brimstone' than it was about grace and redemption. James 2:10 stuck like glue in my head, filled with condemnation and judgement. It freaked me out, especially because I have once told God to "show Himself in my life". I felt as though I was embroiled in battle, fighting for my life. But no matter how intense and how difficult that period of tug-of-war was, God always won over at the end of the day.
I moved on with a gradual acceptance of God's gift of grace and salvation (and of course, with a help of a brother in Christ). I felt free. I became a new creation. This God forgave me of my sins, accepted my iniquities, gave me hope and a future, and paved a way for me to move forward in the world that I once feared.
I had my uncertainties when I first entered the army, armed only with a wavering trust in God that He would be with me and a bunch of friends from Oldham who supported me through my struggles. I took a step-by-step approach without aims or expectations, hoping that God would prevail in times of need and difficulty. He did, but my lack of courage continued from training school through RSTA.
Entering RSTA as a trainee then was supposedly the culmination of all of my anxieties, that I would hardly survive under the Chong era. I stayed out of sight, under the radar, and away from responsibilities, for fear of punishment and 'extras'. Unfortunately, 2 Timothy 1:7 brought more self-reproach and guilt than comfort and courage, and I blamed myself for cowarding in fear.
The silver bayonet came much as a surprise and it made me feel hypocritical because I don't think I deserve it. I know my own standards and I know others who were better at the job too. i never took much pride throughout my course and I never did realise that I needed to do a good job because all I had in mind was the float through the course and graduate. I regretted that too.
To make things worse, I was nominated for the PS job. On hindsight, I came to understand that my willingness to do the job did not affect my chances of becoming a PS. Nonetheless, I struggled because I did not see myself as competent and capable of the job. I still got it anyway. It was as though I was being trained by God to become more decisive and more confident. I was being moulded.
Psalm 139:23-24 reminded me though that I was still not doing things right for God. I still feared my earthly authorities more than I feared God, and I remember not being able to stand up for what's right in exchange for my own safety. I was selfish. I remember the phrase "Great power comes with great responsibility" very well; I was not a good steward.
Things changed as the company went for course while a new era ushered in a change in style. Light began to shed, and life in RSTA brightened. I'm thankful for my boss' efforts, with due respect for the legacy that he has left behind. It, however, came also to a point when pride got the better of me, but by God's grace, things still worked out between me and my friends.
My bike accident came along and things took a turn. My physical handicap and long-term medical status meant different things to different people. Some think that I made a good plan: by the time my medical status was over, I could ORD and life for the last few months in army was a piece of cake. Some were concerned how it would affect me in the long run, that I should just downgrade my PES status and I don't have to serve my combat liabilities for the next two decades.
To be honest, it was a bit of both. When the accident occurred, I didn't know how to react. People told me different things and I was swayed by different opinions. I had different feelings at different stages. On one hand, I didn't want others to think that I'm going to have it easy till I ORD, yet on the other hand, I was seriously concerned how the tailbone injury would affect me in terms of future training, IPPT, reservist, and other activities.
I turned to God, but I was held captive by the possibility of not being able to be as active as I was before. When visiting the doctor, I didn't know what to pray for: nothing serious (but thinking that future activities might aggravate the injury) or a fracture that could impede any future form of activity.
The doctors did not diagnose it officially a tailbone fracture at first, advising one month of rest. Different factors played out, such as the PS course and close-combat training, and all of a sudden, the thought of risking my future well-being to make it through these temporal courses was stark. I wanted to be sure of my condition.
I felt like a hypocrite again, because my injury didn't seem like that big an issue on the surface. I could still walk and stand and it didn't hurt that much, except for sporadic sharp pains over prolonged sitting and lying down. I turned to God again, but common sense and much peer influence pointed me to revisit the specialist clinic. The visit laid my uncertainties to rest: I did have a tailbone fracture, and I was given three months of rest, giving me an official break all the way till I ORD.
I'm thankful that God made a way for me despite the accident. The break provided impetus for me to work extra hard in the office, to forge some new friendships and rebuild some relationships, and to possibly hand over smoothly.
Fortunately, God continued to be faithful, testing me through the new era. I once was greatly frustrated by the contrast in leadership style and the lack of direction in the company. Yet, instead of blaming others, I've come to realise my own unrealistic expectations, my lack of initiative and the opportunity to be a godly steward of this new found freedom. I've learned to take huge buckets of salt, to adapt to difficult changes and to start afresh a process of mentoring and leading the company in my capacity.
I hope it pays off, but more importantly, I pray that I have been a good steward of the time, freedom and opportunity that God has given me. Not to forget, I'm definitely thankful for the trust that my boss has placed in me.
I think my RSTA experience has been strikingly bittersweet, because I have emotionally invested into the company for the last couple of months and I don't get to see the fruit of my so-called labour when I leave. Above all, while I heave a sigh of relief that these two years are finally over, I'm hugely grateful to God for the wonderful opporunities that He has given me throughout these two years, for the tests and trials that He has allowed me to grow, and for His grace, His strength, His wisdom and His courage that He has blessed me with.
He never left me. He never foresook me. He is great. He is able. He is Lord. He is my Saviour. He is Jesus. He is God.
I've been wanting to reflect on the past year, and I told myself that I should reflect tomorrow, or in the coming week. Then I figured that I might as well do it today. I'm definitely worn out from the past few weeks, but it's now or never. Tomorrow ain't coming because there's always tomorrow.
Leaving the army is bittersweet. These two years have been an immense blessing from God, yet I couldn't wait to get out either.
Many people I've met couldn't wait to get out too. Many have expressed how these two years have been a waste of time, time that they could have used to do a million other things other than rot in camp. But I differ. I wanted 'out', but I did not look forward to ORD particularly. I've learned many things, gained many things, and more importantly, these two years have cemented my relationship with God. It's cliche, but honestly speaking, I actually had a positive NS experience.
Looking back not just over the past two years but all my twenty years, I'm thankful for God's faithfulness. 1 Corinthians 10:13 resonates greatly because indeed, He did not let me be tempted or tested beyond what I can bear, and He has always faithfully provided a way out so that I can stand up under it.
In the past, I tried to 'make it' on my own, to strive on my own, to be able to show others that I can make it, yet knowing that deep inside, I'm in fact not who I seem to be on the outside. Full of insecurities, I was afraid of what others thought of me. I measured myself by others' expectations and what others could accomplish. I tried to imitate, and I realised that I'm forever lacking, forever falling short, forever unable to meet those expectations, and I pushed myself even harder because of that.
That pride set me up like a trap for a greater fall. Shame and embarrassment sunk in whenever I fell short. It sucked. It hurt. The front that I tried to put up crumbled despite my efforts to mask my iniquities and weaknesses. Yet, when Jesus came into the picture, saying, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness.", it rocked my world.
I had my struggles. The gospel message was more 'fire and brimstone' than it was about grace and redemption. James 2:10 stuck like glue in my head, filled with condemnation and judgement. It freaked me out, especially because I have once told God to "show Himself in my life". I felt as though I was embroiled in battle, fighting for my life. But no matter how intense and how difficult that period of tug-of-war was, God always won over at the end of the day.
I moved on with a gradual acceptance of God's gift of grace and salvation (and of course, with a help of a brother in Christ). I felt free. I became a new creation. This God forgave me of my sins, accepted my iniquities, gave me hope and a future, and paved a way for me to move forward in the world that I once feared.
I had my uncertainties when I first entered the army, armed only with a wavering trust in God that He would be with me and a bunch of friends from Oldham who supported me through my struggles. I took a step-by-step approach without aims or expectations, hoping that God would prevail in times of need and difficulty. He did, but my lack of courage continued from training school through RSTA.
Entering RSTA as a trainee then was supposedly the culmination of all of my anxieties, that I would hardly survive under the Chong era. I stayed out of sight, under the radar, and away from responsibilities, for fear of punishment and 'extras'. Unfortunately, 2 Timothy 1:7 brought more self-reproach and guilt than comfort and courage, and I blamed myself for cowarding in fear.
The silver bayonet came much as a surprise and it made me feel hypocritical because I don't think I deserve it. I know my own standards and I know others who were better at the job too. i never took much pride throughout my course and I never did realise that I needed to do a good job because all I had in mind was the float through the course and graduate. I regretted that too.
To make things worse, I was nominated for the PS job. On hindsight, I came to understand that my willingness to do the job did not affect my chances of becoming a PS. Nonetheless, I struggled because I did not see myself as competent and capable of the job. I still got it anyway. It was as though I was being trained by God to become more decisive and more confident. I was being moulded.
Psalm 139:23-24 reminded me though that I was still not doing things right for God. I still feared my earthly authorities more than I feared God, and I remember not being able to stand up for what's right in exchange for my own safety. I was selfish. I remember the phrase "Great power comes with great responsibility" very well; I was not a good steward.
Things changed as the company went for course while a new era ushered in a change in style. Light began to shed, and life in RSTA brightened. I'm thankful for my boss' efforts, with due respect for the legacy that he has left behind. It, however, came also to a point when pride got the better of me, but by God's grace, things still worked out between me and my friends.
My bike accident came along and things took a turn. My physical handicap and long-term medical status meant different things to different people. Some think that I made a good plan: by the time my medical status was over, I could ORD and life for the last few months in army was a piece of cake. Some were concerned how it would affect me in the long run, that I should just downgrade my PES status and I don't have to serve my combat liabilities for the next two decades.
To be honest, it was a bit of both. When the accident occurred, I didn't know how to react. People told me different things and I was swayed by different opinions. I had different feelings at different stages. On one hand, I didn't want others to think that I'm going to have it easy till I ORD, yet on the other hand, I was seriously concerned how the tailbone injury would affect me in terms of future training, IPPT, reservist, and other activities.
I turned to God, but I was held captive by the possibility of not being able to be as active as I was before. When visiting the doctor, I didn't know what to pray for: nothing serious (but thinking that future activities might aggravate the injury) or a fracture that could impede any future form of activity.
The doctors did not diagnose it officially a tailbone fracture at first, advising one month of rest. Different factors played out, such as the PS course and close-combat training, and all of a sudden, the thought of risking my future well-being to make it through these temporal courses was stark. I wanted to be sure of my condition.
I felt like a hypocrite again, because my injury didn't seem like that big an issue on the surface. I could still walk and stand and it didn't hurt that much, except for sporadic sharp pains over prolonged sitting and lying down. I turned to God again, but common sense and much peer influence pointed me to revisit the specialist clinic. The visit laid my uncertainties to rest: I did have a tailbone fracture, and I was given three months of rest, giving me an official break all the way till I ORD.
I'm thankful that God made a way for me despite the accident. The break provided impetus for me to work extra hard in the office, to forge some new friendships and rebuild some relationships, and to possibly hand over smoothly.
Fortunately, God continued to be faithful, testing me through the new era. I once was greatly frustrated by the contrast in leadership style and the lack of direction in the company. Yet, instead of blaming others, I've come to realise my own unrealistic expectations, my lack of initiative and the opportunity to be a godly steward of this new found freedom. I've learned to take huge buckets of salt, to adapt to difficult changes and to start afresh a process of mentoring and leading the company in my capacity.
I hope it pays off, but more importantly, I pray that I have been a good steward of the time, freedom and opportunity that God has given me. Not to forget, I'm definitely thankful for the trust that my boss has placed in me.
I think my RSTA experience has been strikingly bittersweet, because I have emotionally invested into the company for the last couple of months and I don't get to see the fruit of my so-called labour when I leave. Above all, while I heave a sigh of relief that these two years are finally over, I'm hugely grateful to God for the wonderful opporunities that He has given me throughout these two years, for the tests and trials that He has allowed me to grow, and for His grace, His strength, His wisdom and His courage that He has blessed me with.
He never left me. He never foresook me. He is great. He is able. He is Lord. He is my Saviour. He is Jesus. He is God.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
The Paradox of Christmas
Wishing everyone a truly blessed Christmas, with not only your loved ones, but also the One who loves you: Jesus.
Friday, December 23, 2011
The Twenty-Second Time
KC first introduced this song to me about 2 years back and as I was doing quiet time last night, this song popped up in my head.
The past month has been a mad rush. It was South Korea just 2 days right after I came back to HK, and while I'm back in HK once again, moving house is next on the list. There hasn't been time (where got time?) to pause and reflect on all that's been happening, to seriously ponder the works of the Lord in my life and the direction He wants me to go in the future.
I'm thankful, however, for the little moments of quiet time that You have provided, Father, along the way and over the past 2 weeks. I'm thankful for the refreshing moments with You. It's truly Psalm 23, where You made me lie down in green pastures and led me beside quiet waters. Thank You for restoring my soul and for filling my cup when I desperately needed it.
This song comes at a time when I've been seemingly burdened by the lost and the broken ones. Indeed, there's more than a twenty-first time. :)
The past month has been a mad rush. It was South Korea just 2 days right after I came back to HK, and while I'm back in HK once again, moving house is next on the list. There hasn't been time (where got time?) to pause and reflect on all that's been happening, to seriously ponder the works of the Lord in my life and the direction He wants me to go in the future.
I'm thankful, however, for the little moments of quiet time that You have provided, Father, along the way and over the past 2 weeks. I'm thankful for the refreshing moments with You. It's truly Psalm 23, where You made me lie down in green pastures and led me beside quiet waters. Thank You for restoring my soul and for filling my cup when I desperately needed it.
This song comes at a time when I've been seemingly burdened by the lost and the broken ones. Indeed, there's more than a twenty-first time. :)
Monday, December 5, 2011
Bittersweet: Prologue
Time flies.
It's one mega rush:
from ORDing on 2nd,
to My Hope on 3rd,
to FACT Camp Committee Meeting on 4th,
to packing on 5th,
to moving from Tanjong Katong to Commonwealth on 6th,
to making final preparations for FACT Camp on 7th,
to starting FACT Camp on 8th till 11th,
and finally flying back to HK on 12th, only to be back next year after Chinese New Year.
Lord, in the midst of planning, preparing and doing, may I be still, and know that You are my God, my Lord, the only One whom I should be focusing on.
It's one mega rush:
from ORDing on 2nd,
to My Hope on 3rd,
to FACT Camp Committee Meeting on 4th,
to packing on 5th,
to moving from Tanjong Katong to Commonwealth on 6th,
to making final preparations for FACT Camp on 7th,
to starting FACT Camp on 8th till 11th,
and finally flying back to HK on 12th, only to be back next year after Chinese New Year.
Lord, in the midst of planning, preparing and doing, may I be still, and know that You are my God, my Lord, the only One whom I should be focusing on.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thanksgiving: Not for beds of roses.
Michelle Van Loon posted a her.meneutics article titled: Stop Turning Thanksgiving into a Facebook Like.
She quoted Rev. Dr. Craig Barnes at the end of her article about the true meaning of Thanksgiving:
While we're called to be thankful to God for everything (Eph. 5:20; Phil. 4:6), more importantly, we're to "give thanks in ALL circumstances" (1 Thes. 5:18). In good times or bad, whether richer or poorer, in joy or sorrow, we are to give thanks to Him, "for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus."
God is faithful. God will provide. God will make a way. God is good. :)
She quoted Rev. Dr. Craig Barnes at the end of her article about the true meaning of Thanksgiving:
Being thankful is not telling God you appreciate the fact that your life is not in shambles. If that is the basis of your gratitude, you are on slippery ground. Every day of your life you face the possibility that a blessing in your life may be taken away. But blessings are only signs of God's love. The real blessing, of course, is the love itself. Whenever we get too attached to the sign, we lose our grasp on the God who gave it to us. Churches are filled with widows who can explain this to you. We are not ultimately grateful that we are still holding our blessings. We are grateful that we are held by God even when the blessings are slipping through our fingers.
While we're called to be thankful to God for everything (Eph. 5:20; Phil. 4:6), more importantly, we're to "give thanks in ALL circumstances" (1 Thes. 5:18). In good times or bad, whether richer or poorer, in joy or sorrow, we are to give thanks to Him, "for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus."
God is faithful. God will provide. God will make a way. God is good. :)
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