We are family

That was the theme for this year's church camp. Sorting through my photos from camp, I was reminded to finish writing this entry.

Is it bad to have a favourite church? I fell in love again with the church I loved, a group of believers who taught me, and continues to teach me, much about building a God-centred community, rather than building a social clique.

After being with mostly similar aged people my age, it was refreshing to be reminded about the full spectrum of life, from the very young, to the very old and dying. I loved sharing a room with a lovely lady my mum's age, who loves books, and an elderly lady who was there when our student accommodation was a nursing home. I loved waving hello to the beautiful baby with a serious face, and seeing his grandparents dote on him. I loved spending time drawing with the girl who could possibly be mistaken for my sister, reliving high school life with a teenager who's using the same textbook as I did years ago, listening to the dessert making adventures of all the ladies who are into baking, or hearing stories of parents who worry about their children growing up and becoming indepedent, and being listened to and encouraged by pastor and his wife.

I love how inclusive you are, and how even the bratty teenagers show love to, the man with a probable intellectual impairment, but who nevertheless has such joy, thankfulness, and humour. I love how you are Australian, Chinese, Singaporean, Korean, Japanese, Nigerian and more, being family through the same Jesus, though we look, talk and think differently. I've talked to so many friends who have lived in Australia for years but feel that they have nothing in common with the typical Caucasian Australian. And I share those sentiments (though I spent more of my life here than not). But it was in this church, and in this town (through classmates, and others I met through school), that I realised that the gap isn't as wide as we imagined, and that depending on the community I'm with, I can feel completely at home in this country though I don't have curly blonde hair, or pale skin with freckles. Even though I have zero interest in booze or footy.

I love how you share your lives with each other, and with me. I love how openly you share prayer requests, and pray for each other from the heart, rather than sharing prayer in a guarded, generic way. And in a short time, even after a year away, how we can talk about your children and grandchildren, your siblings, your schools, your work, your farms, your ministries, your struggles, the illnesses and deaths in your families, the joys and celebrations, with such familiarity. Truly living the words: "rejoice with those who rejoice, and mourn with those who mourn." - Romans 12:15

Thank you for being such a warm community, a beautiful channel, and shining example of God's love. It's a love that inspires me to keep learning to love others and build communities that reflect God's love. May you all continue to love God, and love your neighbours.

A quiet day

Doing. Emergency with ears tuned for ambulances, a free and blissful holiday, conferences near and far, brunch with my favourite B friends, family and talkative toddlers, measuring waists at the "oversize" station, driving in the storm with poor visibility, switching between anger and melancholy, hate and empathy, chilli pork trotters, singing C-pop and drinking milk tea, and writing, taking photos, chomp chomp, and writing some more.

A quiet day, at home. Lovely easy-going people, the perfect lazy purring cat, two funny, occasionally infuriating, hungry hungry dogs. But two or three months later I'm still thinking about the town, the place, the friends, cooking feasts, the badminton tennis footy, the lake, running past black swans, the home baked goods and fellowship. On a quiet day, can I be back there instead? When my calendar is blank, I uncover this uneasiness about being here. First year I used to love this place with a sense of awe at its night lights and deliciously cheap eateries. Love is fleeting, or at least infatuation is. Bigger is not always better. Community over flashiness any day. Maybe I can hope for a second love affair with M.

Maybe a quiet day is time to clear the distraction and know God, realign that compass. And do some study.

Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. - Mark 1:35

Many things to say

There are many things to say, but writing hasn't been possible without internet access for the past few weeks. I wanted to talk about the healthcare system, the hospital, the patients, and doctors in D. About packing and unpacking, and leaving the house that has been home for over 10 years. About my darling sister, about family, about the futility of attaining possessions to build happiness. About missing my home (of just a year, but feels longer) in B, about missing the church family there, about settling into M which has always been a cold place - metaphorically. But I will just talk about the last point for now.

People tell me that I must be glad to be back in civilisation - and I, in turn, find it hard to understand how they don't understand that I've never, ever, ever found B boring. Secretly, I think it's city snobbery (although my best friend tells me city kids picture regional towns as outback deserts), and people assuming everyone who is in rural clinical school is there because they couldn't get into metro. It was my number one preference, I loved it and I thank God for a fulfilling year of friendships, learning, cooking and more.

Frankly, I don't miss the life I had two or three years ago in M. At the time there were aspects I loved about it, but hanging out in the CBD or even the prospect of being able to explore a million food possibilities doesn't have the same appeal the second time around. I much prefer the few meaningful relationships to mass outings and superficial chatter that were common in the first two years of uni. I don't look forward to dealing with quirky old acquaintances, although to be fair, I never understood them enough to give them a chance. I definitely don't like the association the place has to my tangled rollercoaster of relationships, although those connections have largely faded in time.

I've gone from being a timid first year, to being nearly in my final year. I'm more aware that I have a purpose for being in M because I believe in each place that I've lived in, God gave me work to do - in school and in ministry, lessons to learn, people to encourage and relationships to build. Approaching these areas of life with a God-centred perspective, rather than for my personal ambitions and desires, is what makes your treasures eternal rather than temporary. Walking with God is what makes the days meaningful, fulfilling. And it is my prayer, that I will continue to walk with God in the coming semester.

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Clinical school

I started thinking about my choice of clinical school during the start of exam prep this time. Every clinical school gives similar but different teaching, different timetables and schedules. We hear of the greater competition in metro hospitals, more tutorials, more assessment preparation, giving their students obvious clues as to what the exam topics are. Then looking around our own group of students in rural, everyone is relatively relaxed, lazy at times. And I was pondering whether we're missing out, whether rural clinical school was a good thing for my learning. People often ask me whether B was my first choice, and why would I want to live in a "small country town" (it's not that small). Well, throughout this past week, I was reminded of some of the reasons that I chose come to RCS.

Studying with other people doing the same thing is fun. There was always someone ready to practice history taking and physical exam during the study break. Asking each other questions and talking med throughout the day after day, I realised I could remember things that I wouldn't be able to remember by staring and yawning at a textbook. Then during our written exam we were given lollies, water, pencils and an eraser. And in the OSCE we didn't wait a particularly long time because there were only fifteen students in our year here altogether versus say, over fifty students. Then there were those shared dinners, an outing to the playground and lake the day before exams, a fun game of "Mr Squiggle" on the morning of our OSCE, and classmates to tell you "don't stress you just need to get an average sort of mark, you just want to be a GP." Haha okay, I feel great now. This exam period was the most fun one I've had at uni, partly because it's weighted lightly and largely because of the good company.

I never got to know many classmates well, and made less than a handful of people who I would call friends in the first two and a half years of university. I found it difficult how everyone was coming and going, and lived all over M. So that was one reason for RCS, to live with and get to know a few fellow med students better. And it has been a joy to study, live, hang out with the people here (except the days when I'm grumpy or people are particularly annoying). And I love my group.

And I remember mum saying, maybe you'll like rural because it'll be more like living in D. That's been surprisingly true too. Yesterday I was in M and just realised how noisy the CBD is, how did I ever fall asleep living next to the tram line, hospital (with ambulances) and fire station? Then the traffic jams looked horrible. Then I thought smaller places are much nicer places to live, it's quiet and everyone is accessible within 10 minutes with a car. I do miss my night strolls through M though. I like the shops here because it reminds me of the main shopping centre in D. I love my church here too.

Half a year ago, I had no idea what we would do in clinical school. What do you mean you just talk to patients?? Then the students in the years above us said that they prefer clinicals over preclinicals because you "see real patients", "it's more relevant" and "it's more hands on". And because nearly everyone I talked to said that, I was determined not to like clinical school for the same reasons as everyone else haha.

But I enjoyed this semester - I enjoyed the study content, the small-ish hospital where everyone looks familiar, the place I live and the people around me. I was happy most of the time. Maybe because of these things I'm taking a greater interest in reading and learning med, in learning to be a doctor. I'm glad to have chosen B.

I'm thankful to God for leading me, and helping me to make decisions at each step of this course (and beyond). I believe God was with me during that year in S - teaching me to accept times of solitude, helping me finish the research project and report quite completely although there was a lack of good supervision, helping me to find a lovely host family, preparing for these years with a good med student fellowship, giving lots of opportunities to share God's love with those around me, and two trips across the seas to my hometown, to get to know my extended family better. Who can say for sure where and how God's hand were on these things, but I know having a relationship with him aligns my thoughts, my heart, my purpose with his. And God does act.

I think after a few more month, on hindsight, I will see the plans you have for me here more clearly too.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. - Romans 8:28