Change of pace

For a few days, I exchanged my scarves for slippers, and saw a sun which glowed with real brightness and intensity. For once, my thoughts were occupied not just with discharge summaries and the whirlpool of my own feelings, but with the lives of old friends, and medicine that touched poverty, politics, and the wider world. As I weaved up into vast skies and layers of clouds, once again I was struck by the consciousness of my own mortality, despite knowing that statistically, dying from a plane crash is extremely unlikely.

From waking up to noisy neighbours and train hoots, there, I woke up to an unnecessarily loud and horribly evil laugh of a kookaburra, followed by a colourful choir of tweets, which reminded me so much of home. My never changing breakfast of two minute oats, milk, and bananas, was changed to, waking-up-too-late-for-breakfast, which would be promptly followed by scoffing down dry scones at morning tea, binging on tea and milk for lack of good food options, piling massive plates of not so filling vegetarian meals (organisers were going green), and diving for fried finger foods in the evenings. Each night would conclude with a stroll down to the night markets, armed with a delicious roll of Japanese crepe with whipped cream and ice cream.

Instead of (mentally) speaking with myself at my desk, which makes for poor and tiresome company, I sat with old friends on quiet benches outside loud and drunken parties, indulging in long overdue catch up chats. We talked until early hours of the morning, about our careers and futures, above love, about makeup and clothes; laughing at how each of us, from the pink-loving girly girls to the tomboys who never wanted to be girls, were on a journey of transformation, from a girl to a woman. Having often lamented on lost friendships during university years, I delighted in discovering that old high school friendships could mature into something better, where even the craziest girls, or the boys who adored only games and Anime, could develop a thoughtfulness and patience to listen and connect on a meaningful level.

A few days of warmth and a change of scene, away from the unbearably stubborn fog through which everything becomes indistinguishable shades of grey; respite, I think that is what they call it...

Neopets

Oh! my dear old lover!

Or more like my old addiction. It's a very surreal experience to step into the virtual world you lived in years ago. It started with seeing the websites, blinkies, graphics I used to make. Visited the site, the message boards, the pets, the items, the neopoints.

Some things have changed. Chatspeak is no longer cool, and "being literate", maturity and "15+, 18+, 21+" guilds are in. There is a lot of advertising on the site, and the money hungry website developers schemes to have premium accounts, paid merchandise etc. Fascinating.

However, most things are constant. There are strange disputes over small matters in the message boards, typical young teenage things that we got into back then... The kind of "world" these virtual communities create, with rich and poor, those with power, those with pretty houses and pets, the immature brats and old, "mature" citizens.

I guess it's escapism, and gives everyone an opportunity to own a little kingdom, even if it's virtual. Especially the guilds - recruiting members, organising activities... The status of being a guild leader, a council member, especially of a large, active and prosperous guild - I think I used to have such aspirations. The student organisations at uni are not too different in nature (but are grounded in reality).

I was 13 back then, and anyone above 18 I would wonder at what in the world were they doing, still playing such a game. Now I'm 20, and I myself am the freak, playing the child's game. Though there seems to be a disproportionately large adult population there these days, which is scary.

Nostalgic, slightly, but glad to have gradually lived more and more in the "real world" over the last few years. Glad that I no longer care for pets that don't exist, virtual money, or neofriends - most of whom you talk to for a short while and disappear from your life (with a few exceptions). Now on a journey to learn to care for the people around me, do the work or study God has put before me, use real money wisely.

"Everything is permissible"--but not everything is beneficial. "Everything is permissible" --but not everything is constructive. - 1 Corinthians 10:23

This is a "believer's freedom" - as the NIV bible titles it. Not talking about blatant sin here. But things not inheritantly evil in themselves - games, surfing, facebook, TV, partying. Freedom is not to do whatever we like, whenever we like. But to be free of those things that have a hold on us, that saturate our minds so that we no longer consider the truly important things in life, no longer strive for growth and understanding in Christ.

DCCC

While doing cleaning duty at college today, I realised how much of my "growing up" process happened at church. The first time I did dishes, the first time I mopped, vacuumed, served food, stacked chairs, set up tables... were not at home, but all these are random things I picked up at church. My real extended family has been far for a long time now, but I did have a "family" of sorts at church.

1) My "brothers", my best friends, who ran around, played and fought with me. Sharing "deep talks" with from time to time. And continuing to keep in touch with me :) It's only during these holidays in Shanghai did I notice how similar our friendship is to that between my cousins and I.

2) Sisters, who I had more conflicts with in the past... but nevertheless, forgiven me for the times when I have been rude or childish. Who shopped, talked, checked out guys with me and sometimes fed me :)

3) The younger children who are not so little any more. Some were like real little siblings to me, and taught/prepared me to be able to look after and play with my real sister.

4) Aunties who told me off, sometimes gossiped about me, especially about my relationships. I think it's because they cared. The adults weren't perfect, but looking back, they are encouraging examples of people who strive to be faithful to God even in difficult times.

I'm particularly grateful for a lot of the care, corrections, parenting during Sunday school, although I may have resented it at the time. Particular things that come to mind include:

1) One of the Sunday school teachers chatting with me in Mandarin the first time I came to church (all the kids spoke in English and I didn't understand a word).

2) Letting me know that putting my foot up on the table is "not very lady-like", because I really saw nothing wrong with it at the time.

3) Another Sunday school teacher being great in presenting evidence, explaining and provoking thought. Then attempting to answer all my endless questions.

4) For being flexible and letting me continue in Sunday school instead of attending normal service, at a time when I didn't understand the reason and wasn't willing to sit through long sermons and prayers.

For those of you reading this, thank you all for growing up with me, putting up with me, forgiving me, teaching me, sharing fun times, sharing life with me :)

Reminds me of that song we sang at YWAM summer camp one year:

I will stand with you
We will fight the fight
I will stand with you
Through the darkest night
I will stand with you
As God gives us might
Hand in hand, hand in hand
We will stand

When you're tired of the battle
Feeling worn out to the bone
And you feel like you've been fending
Off the arrows on your own
Close your eyes and see the angels
Who are fighting brave and bold
In the family of God in the family of God
In the family of God
You're not alone

When life can overwhelm you
And the tears rise in your eyes
And you wish that you could find a place
To run away and hide
I'll be there to hold my hand out
And to gently lead you home
In the family of God in the family of God
In the family of God you're not alone

Christmas eve

Let's use the picture pastor illustrated in the sermon on Sunday. A house at night, crowded with people, loud music pumping, everyone laughing and having a good time celebrating Christmas. Chilling, snow and darkness outside, with Jesus knocking on the door and no one being able to hear him. Celebrating Jesus' birthday but not inviting him in.

You kind of wonder, what are non-Christians celebrating? A public holiday, a reason to get drunk and party? Santa and his reindeers? The mistletoe, the bright lights, the trees, stars, bells? I don't understand why people sing "Joy to the World" or "Silent Night" if they don't agree with the truth of the lyrics. It's easier to understand if I think about why festivals are celebrated at all. A time to exchange gifts, enjoy the colourful culture and traditions, gather with family and friends, to love and feel loved.

Christmas has changed for me over the years. I really enjoyed making the decoration, doing the activity sheets, the colourful hats and the performances of kids songs when I was in primary school. Oh yes, most of all... the gifts! In high school I loved the food (woohoo dinners and restaurants galore), Christmas shopping with mum's money, writing and receiving cards from my friends. Now? Not sure. Feels like there isn't all the pre Christmas preparation / hype, and that it just comes so suddenly.

Letting go

I understood this before. When I missed my childhood I reminded myself that they can never return in the same way. Whether it's those holidays in China in 1998 with my cousins and family, the way reading novels could transport me to a magical world, or the fascination I found in computer games. My dead relatives cannot come back to life, my little cousin and I can never play like siblings again. Harry Potter can never fascinate me in the same way, I will never wish to go on adventures like the Secret Seven. I can't play make pretend games with my dolls and mice, or have so much fun with playgrounds or sand bombs again. My rats are gone, my dog can't walk with me to the beach again.

This year I often miss high school life. I miss the regular routine of going on the bus in the morning. I miss learning in a classroom environment, doing questions and playing games instead of merely listening to lectures. I miss my favourite subjects, miss having my teachers as mentors and friends. Studying with my friends in study lines, or late at night at the uni library; the food and laughter we shared every recess and lunch. Thinking of it makes me feel lonely now. But like childhood, it will never come back in the same way.

The same applies to friends. My best childhood friend and I will only contact each other a few times a year. I will only have memories of friends who I've lost contact with. My ex and I will never again share that same feeling when we see each other. Mum and I may never be so completely open to each other again. And my best friend in high school may never again share so much in common and understand me in quite the same way.

Even the most fun and enjoyable times end. Even the best friendships transform. We can only treasure those memories and be glad that we have them at all. I know I should enjoy and appreciate what I have now before it becomes something of the past. Hard to do though...

For you dear friend, I'm sorry I can't always be there for you in the same way. Here's a poem you will be quite familiar with:

Louise MacNeice

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.