Hey God, were You ever there?

When Philip was sick in hospital, balloons brought him tremendous joy. Especially when they were attached to his feet, Philip would be so entertained seeing them move as his legs moved. And because of that for every Christmas, we would hold a special tradition to remember him by getting coloured balloons and writing our messages on them and releasing them into the sky. 

The balloons got smaller as they drifted further away and it became seemingly clear that Philip was very far away from me. In fact, I used to shed a tear in the first few years when i saw how far the balloons got and thought the distance was always the most painful to deal with grieving my baby. It was only last year that I realised it was in fact not hearing from him that hurts more. 

Us at last year’s Christmas tradition

Hope on a Promise

Dear Michelle

It's been 3 years... and I know everyday you still try to find some form of sign or clue that Philip is around.... 

With that breeze that touches your face as you walked on the streets, could it be a kiss from Philip?

It could be Michelle, but really that's from the bus that is driving past.

Or that random 3 year old boy who stopped and turned round to smile at you, could it be him?

No my dear, he was actually looking for his mummy behind you.

The sun is out after the rain, you are hoping to find a rainbow to tell you that Philip is fine.

Not today Michelle... there's no rainbow but he's fine.

A song, a dream, a child who has cancer, his name in random wine bottles or even a person who would listen about what you can share about Philip (sorry to the strangers who would have to listen to me when I share about my 5th child 😅)... I see everyday that you still try hard to hold on to anything that can keep his legacy alive. 

To others, these attempts may be futile, but I know deep down you are desperate and grieving.

Exactly a week back, I was there at your evening stroll with Daniel. Maybe you had a little too much sake, maybe it was on the topic of gratitude, or maybe it was getting closer to 1 September, either which, I was there when you cried. 

I heard you asked why did I need to choose Philip, why couldn't I spare him, why did I choose you to be a testimony.  

For the past 3 years, I see you and I hear your cries and I know your pain.

You brought Simon out to the park today with Daniel. I saw Dan putting him in the stroller without strapping him in, while you and Kyra ran ahead of them. In Simon's excitement to want to catch up with you, he stepped out of his stroller and fell. He scratched his elbow and head and let out a loud cry. Daddy carried him and placed him in the stroller, but that did nothing to stop his cries until you picked him up and kissed him. His wound remains, but he felt better. 

I hope through that you will remember that while your wounds may remain, I will be there in that moment when you hurt, carry you up, kiss you and tell you everything is going to be fine. And for that moment, it will be enough.

You see my child, I never needed you to defend me when my creation gets mad at me. Nothing you say will be enough for them to understand the situation and I never had in mind that you would be a testimony or defendent for me. I am glad that your choices and response did, but this was not why Philip's life on earth was for 6 months.

Continue to walk with Me. Continue to trust and continue to hope... not in outcomes or in how you want it to be done, but in Me. Unless your hope is in Me, you will continue to be disappointed and let down every single day.

Draw on the Me when you need strength, lean on Me when you need to rest, cry to Me when you are helpless, come to Me when you need to be carried. 

In the midst of your grief, you will learn where you have placed your hope. You may not know what tomorrow brings, but trust me and count on my promise and nothing else. Live life day by day without the need to know what will come next, not because you don't have the right to do so, but that would just drain and rob you the joy of living. 

Have unconditional hope in Me and hold Me to My promise that I will be there with you every single step and way. 

Pick up your cross and follow Me. Have faith in Me, my child, have an unwavering faith. It may not be in your lifetime that you will see My plan, but I promise you that all wounds will be healed one day, all tears will be wiped away, the dead will all rise and all mysteries will be understood. But until that day comes, take heart that even though you will feel the pain and hurts in this world, I have already overcome this world.

Unlike the hope the world gives, your hope has a name - Mine.

Take heart, my dear child, take heart, for I am with you through it all.

I love you.

God.

Picking Up the Pieces, Picking Up my Cross

Dearest Philip,

How are you in heaven? Have you been busy testing your wings in your free time or have you been swamped with prayer requests during your "working hours"?

It's been almost a year since we last met. Despite the reasons to smile and be grateful for, there hasn't been a day when mummy stopped thinking or missing you. 

Since your passing, (other than having another baby 😅) I did many things to deal with your absence. I stayed away from big gatherings so that I didn't need to deal with pitiful or sympathetic conversations, I stayed away from babies who are similar to your age so as not to be reminded of my loss, I even locked myself in my own cocoon so that I didn't need to wear any mask to cover the rawness of the pain.

I have heard many people commenting that time will heal the pain. To that, I have learnt to just smile and keep quiet. Maybe they are right.. maybe they have experienced something in life that I have yet to learn, or maybe it's just that they are really blessed to not have lost something that mattered more than life to them. 

But the biggest struggle I had after you died ironically wasn't dealing with your absence but with my own guilt. 

I had always wondered if I had done enough for you, if I had really shown you in my capacity how much I love you. The night before your death, daddy and I even dressed ourselves up to attend a function because we didn't want to dampen the spirits of the people who were there. And even though we left 5 minutes into the start of the event, I'd always wondered if you had blamed me for not being around you more. Not many people knew this, but the reason why I never opened the casket during your wake was because the c-pap mask that you wore during the last days of your life had caused an abrasion and a dent at your nose area which I only noticed it after they removed the mask when they died. You must have been really uncomfortable during that time but I wasn't able to offer any consolation. You were left on the hospital ward for quite some time because daddy and I couldn't find your original birth certificate and because of that you couldn't be transferred to the mortuary. 

At times I read about stories of children going through the same cancer as you. Most of them don't make it but because they underwent chemotherapy and radiation, they did live longer. And I wondered too if our lives would be different if I had chosen the chemo route for you. 

I replayed your last few months in my head throughout the year and always wondered did we do enough  for you and more importantly did we tell you enough that we love you. 

The gospel today reminded me a very harsh truth what being a disciple meant - to carry my cross daily. Darling, unfortunately you will always be my cross I would need to bear till I die. When you died last year, a part of me died together with you. 

And even though you were with us for only 6 months, you truly taught me so much more than what I have learnt in my whole life. When the doctors told me about your diagnosis, it was not only the first time I actually felt any concrete pain in life, but the first time I had experienced the cross. My faith was crumbling and there were moments when I doubted the goodness of God. 

Because of you, I have learnt to understand the phrase "not my will but yours be done". On the day of your funeral, not only did I bury you, I also needed to bury my disappointments and my dreams I had for you. But I came to learn that while there was nothing wrong with my hopes and dreams, God just had a very different plan and vocation for you. And it was through you, mummy learnt to ask for strength to surrender. 

It didn't take me long to realise that nothing will ever be possible to fill the void you left behind. It's ironic, but human logic of finding something else to fill the void doesn't help in the healing. Healing ironically came when mummy decided to give away more of her heart to those around her.

Because of this pain I experienced, I have learnt to reach out to more people who are struggling with a little more humility and compassion. And each time when they opened their lives and hearts to me, that small part of my heart starts to become alive again.

I have learnt to be okay with God's choice of not healing you, because even though I am your mummy, I know that He loves you more than I do. Thank you baby, for jumpstarting my relationship with God, for teaching me in a very concrete manner how to submit to my daily cross. 

It's been one year since I last saw you... but it's also one year closer to meeting you again. So until I get my chance to hold you again, I promise you that mummy is going to live her life and laugh again. And know that every breath I take, I'll be taking one for you. 💕

Always missing you,

Mummy. 

P a few weeks before he died

Growing with Grief

It has been four months since I have made a new friend - Grief. Not that I ever welcomed her into my life, or that I asked to hang around, but she decided to make herself comfortable and stay on.

I soon got comfortable with her and somehow I realised that till the day that I die, she will be my constant companion.

Many don't realise it and tell me that with time, she will become a stranger and slowly fade away. However, those who told me so, probably have never lost a piece of their hearts before. There are both good and bad things about grief. The good, I always tell others, is that life will never get worse. The bad and saddest thing is, unfortunately, life will just go on. 

Since my last blog entry, I said that I was staying in my tomb for quite a bit.  Being in my tomb was probably like being at the bottom of the mountain, seeing and learning different views which being on the mountain top will never be able to help me see. 

1) We often credit God way tooooo much for our own good.

In the past four months, I kept hearing people commenting about how God has a better or greater plan for me. Like how He will never give me a cross way too big for me to bear. *Rolls eyes* (apparently my sarcasm did not die with Philip) 

That initially made me wonder what did I do so wrong or so right that God decided to give me such a big cross. (I mean it would be wayyyyyyyyy easier to love God if He could just reward me with a big lottery win) But it seemed that because humans need to have an explanation for everything, we console ourselves by telling us that God can't be that cruel to us. 

Or how maybe God was just doing me a favour by saving me a greater heartache and taking Philip to a better place now. (Of which I smiled and decide to walk away)

Unfortunately, I didn't do anything right (or wrong) to have what I got. It was all the while going to be my life. God didn't give me the cross. He did however allow it to happen and with it He gave me the right people to journey with and watch out for me. The right enough raw ingredients of hope, faith and grace to recognise that there is something to look forward to even if I were to die tomorrow. (Which obviously I hope I don't) And from those raw ingredients, hopefully it will grow and become a testimony that He had never abandoned me. 

2) Grief was never meant to imprison a soul

I shared with some friends whom I still meet up with that "Call me if you need me" is probably one of the worst lines I would want to hear in times of grief from a friend. Not many realise that the person whom they say it to hardly use that "call me" card. 

Many friends thought I needed time and left me alone. I don't blame them for personally death isn't something many are comfortable to deal with. The unfortunate thing was, not many realised that I didn't need time alone or to be left alone... I needed them. Unfortunately, being in your own tomb, causes one to look inward, at one's pain, one's misery and just at oneself.

I became selfish and excused myself from many of the gatherings they have organised. Afterall, I thought whether I appeared or not, the gathering would still happen, so why should I go? The gathering seemed to fulfill their need of void of boredom rather than comforting me in my loss. 

Yet, I learnt that the purpose of grief wasn't to highlight the unfairness of life, but to emphasize the importance of joy. It does seem ironic, but people seem to appreciate the gift of joy more when it comes from someone who would be filled with pain. It was as if many aspired to want to be joyful than be cynical. 

Just like because of Easter and Good Friday, we can appreciate the gift of Christmas (cuz if not, it's just another baby's birthday?) And so with pain, one learns the magic of joy. 

3) Life is better when you don't need answers

After Philip died, I wondered if I had done enough. The memories of having him in my arms broke my heart, but the "what ifs" I had killed me. "What if we decided to do chemotherapy?", "What if we started treatment earlier" or "What if he was around still?". These questions get worse when you grief somehow. 

Till now, I can't tell you why Philip was given to me only for 6 months. I can't tell you also why God decided to allow one to go through disasters or any calamity. And for the rest of my life, I would probably be pondering on that just like how Mary did till the day she died. She who survived through the death of her spouse and son would probably wonder what did she say yes to. She was afterall (just) doing God's work and she got everything seemingly against her. 

But her doubts, questions and heartaches never made her think twice in who she believed in. And the sooner one realises that one can never answer (and not need to answer) all the questions in life, the sooner you will be able to appreciate life and its surprises better. 

Letting God be God was one of the hardest thing I learnt in 2019. It probably gets harder as we age because we start to attach job scopes and images to what God has to be in order to be "God". But we forget that we are not God and everything is a gift. All my life I have been taught to pray and get what I want, but now a wise priest has told me to start wanting what I got.

I learnt though that what He has taken will never be greater than what He will give. So be comforted that He is a wayyyyyy better God than the one we have in mind.

Image from relationadvisors.com

Yikes! Change is about to happen!

Just one more sleep and what I am used to for the past 3 years will all be changed. Like many, I'd always thought that since I've been through it so many times, everything would be under control and honestly this would be child's play for me. After all, the whole process remains the same - wake up early, go for breakfast, relax a little, check into hospital, prep for surgery and get heavily sedated and when I wake up in 1hrs time, I get myself a new baby. (Like honestly, how complicated can life be? *tsk*)

But strangely, I'm not sure if I can say I was most confident this time. It could be the fear for the post surgery recovery, because I know how painful it can be. Or maybe I was from 2 helpers to down with no helper at all until yesterday when the replacement helper came and hopefully the other one comes back later today (yes on the day when I deliver). It could be also because just a few days ago I was down with flu and am probably still struggling with a little stomach flu. Or it could be maybe from the anxiety that my youngest girl will no more be the baby of the family already and I'm pushing her to grow up to be a sister (yes I still get the guilty feeling even after so many kids!). Or that maybe the mister is down with flu STILL (and that's how I fall sick) and on the night before I deliver I'm spending some time alone doing my reflection, rather than a movie night and quiet time with the mister.

Yup... as you can see things haven't been going as planned. And the irony? This pregnancy is the one which I had prayed the hardest, go church more often and had a lot more people praying for me than the other pregnancies. Should I not have prayed? Could it be an easier and smoother journey? Shouldn't prayer help in easing one's fear? What went wrong?

Unfortunately, truth of the matter is, just because I prayed harder it didn't mean that I had the trump card of being God and get to do things according to my plan or my choice. The Evil one would use every opportunity to tell and tempt me to be angry with God and to stop praying cuz obviously it hasn't been providing much consolation or so it seems. The Holy Spirit on the other hand continues to ask me to be patient and tells me it's not about me but to be faithful and just say Yes to being loved and carried by God.

Back at Home...

Feeling so overwhelmed, I actually went to the adoration room after dinner yesterday and just sat in front of the Holy Eucharist to pour out all my anxieties and somehow started to cry. (hormones maybe) I didn't realize one can be so close to God and yet so fearful at the same time. But the best thing about crying is that God knows too that I've reached my limit and He will take over from here since there is no more resistance from me to try to be in control and stay in charge. The Evil one also knows that there's no point in trying to be around because the harder he tries to be funny, the harder I will pray and that's really not what he wants too.

God's peace comes after every storm and it strangely doesn't need to make any grand entrance. Truth be told, God was present throughout the whole pregnancy. Like how my helper situation could be a mess but at least He sent me a great replacement which seems to be able to hold the fort for the time being, plus my mum was around to help me here and there with the kids so I could rest and nurse my flu. I may not have gotten many things my way, but because of this, many have used this as a reason to pray and found inspiration to be close to Him. To help with post surgery recovery, He's blessed me with a masseur who is able to come right after my surgery to help me feel better faster. And because He knows I've been anxious, He's been getting many guardian angels to send me personal love messages and prayers along the way to cheer me up and encourage me.

And even though I pray that He could give me a miraculously painless birth, I forget that the more I look at myself, the more I forget that He is the same God that managed to feed thousands with just 5 loaves and 2 fishes, heal the blind and sick and even raise the dead... He IS so mighty and all I could do was just to limit Him to my fears and plans. If God had really been given the control of my life, how much greater can it be? The opposite of fear is not exactly courage, it's just stop saying No to God.

Trust me, it's not a bad feeling. And so I say to you.... Peace be with You. :)

10 years down.... Eternity to go..

Recently D and I had celebrated our 10th anniversary. I'm happy to say that this time we didn't have any Cold War or missed the chance to be with each other. (So yes this time, we actually celebrated.)

These three remains, Faith, Hope and Love.
But the greatest of these is Love. 

D and I had a vow renewal ceremony at church and just like 10 years ago, the mass was still the best part of the day. D and I made it as meaningful as we could. We involved our kids in the walk-in, we used the same readings as we did 10 years back, we got the kids involved in the readings and even wrote and renewed our own vows and promises to each other. (D choked on his vows, I think it's because he was touched, he thinks it's because the church was dusty... *tsk*)

Looking back on this 10 years, D and I are eternally grateful and indebted to a few people who have helped us through our roughest times in our marriage. It's not always with love and tenderness that we look at each other. But God has sent enough angels to make sure we survive. Most of the time, interestingly enough, it would be priests (yes those who have never been married) who are wise enough to remind us how to love each other.

1) Loving the other the way he needs to be loved, and not how we want to love.

Even before our marriage, we have had our fair share of disagreement and arguments. Like how after a long day at work, I would look forward to seeing him, yet whenever we met, D would seem tired and grouchy. It didn't help that when he was with his friends, he would be laughing and actually looked like he is enjoying himself. I saw that as an insult and a form of failure on my part. I used to not understand how is it that his friends could bring out so much life in him and when he was with me, he was so tired and dragging it. I mean, I am his wife after all, shouldn't he be happy to see me? 

He had me at "In":P

But because I love him, I realised that's what he needs. Not necessarily time away from me since  it's not because he didn't enjoy my company but he just appreciated the brainless moments of guys talk (yes... we all know they don't actually talk *rolls eyes*) and because of that he actually is happier. 

D on the other hand is not one who is expressive and talks much about his feelings. But he also knows that I am one who enjoys to be reminded how much he loves me. So whenever he can, he drops me messages of how much he still loves me even when he is busy. He is also a very private person, and for him to come up with his own vows and renew it in front of our friends tells me that he was willing to be vulnerable for me. And for that, I know, I am loved.

2) KEEP making excuses for each other when it hurts the most

This isn't isolated to marriage. It can be used for any relationship. D and I do get clumsy with each other's feelings too. And while most times we are okay, but there are days when I cannot comprehend why he couldn't see my point and insist on his way.

I confided in a priest who smiled hearing my side of the story and calmly told me to make excuses for him. That while the fact that I am hurt remains, making more excuses for him might lessen the hurt. And when you are willing to find those excuses, you will never run out of the love for that person. (Of course this shouldn't be the same if there's any form of abuse in the relationship)

3) To those who have caused harm to us and hurt us? Pray not just for us, but for them

Truth be told, every couple has their own cross(es) to bear in their relationship. For D and I, our greatest is the issue of in-laws. D and I have had many arguments as I felt at times he was not always on my side and he couldn't understand why the actions of his parents would be an issue to me. The same priest who told me to make excuses out of love reminded me to pray for those who have hurt us. Ironically, doing that helps us more than them. Psychologically, it's not possible to be angry and upset at a person while wishing him/her to be blessed.

So yes, while I'm still not in the running for the best daughter-in-law award, I think praying for them would be my saving grace.

4) Keep close to God (and couples who believe in marriage)

It's not by our strength but by God's grace we are still together. We have witnessed many of our friends who struggle and give up in their marriage and most times it is not because their marriage is exceptionally hard. Being in love is totally unnatural. It's not natural to not be jealous, to be patient and kind, to be slow to anger and to be forgiving. Because we are "imperfect" our love can never be perfect as well.

Truth be told, "godly" is a term which hardly anyone would use to describe us. (I mean some people are surprised we are catholics too.. that does say much about us right?) But God is kind to us, with whatever pockets of time we make to pray, He listens. And unknowingly, He would give us more than enough to move along. Sometimes He doesn't answer our prayers through gentle whispers and a "moment of enlightenment" but through couples He has blessed with more than enough to love. Seeing them at them makes us want to model them and love each other better. (okay... this isn't about me being competitive) But yes... three I assure you, is never a crowd.

Finally... to those of you who have been praying and blessing us with your friendship, prayers and love... Thank you. If not for you, there won't be us.

Us at our 10 year milestone 

Marriage - A Testimony of God's Love

7 July was our ninth year anniversary. Beginning of the week, D told me that he had taken leave that evening so that we could go out for a nice dinner. All this would be a fairy tale if not for the fact that we actually argued on 5th July.

A bouquet for the
anniversary

D tried to make peace on the eve of our anniversary and gave me a bouquet of roses that night, but I was still upset and was hardly amused or touched by his surprise. That night, we both went to bed with the void in our hearts.

Friends and family wished us on our anniversary, we politely thanked them but truth is, we weren't at peace. We didn't talk to each other neither did we try. I was just too upset that he couldn't understand my plight when dealing with his parents and every time I saw him, I was reminded of the hurt. (So yes, the cold war has started)

A part of me was longing the intimacy and closeness we were enjoying before this, yet I refused forgiveness because I felt his efforts in understanding me and seeing my point of view weren't enough. We were due to present in Engaged Encounter a week from now, and were obviously not in the best position to share with couples about a God-centred marriage. Until one message from D made me realize, that he was also hurt in the process.

I was hurt, but that didn't give me the right to hurt him as well. Even before the kids and in-laws, I willingly chose to spend my life with him and he with me. We made a commitment 9 years back and through these years, the greatest struggle I had staying married wasn't money, parenting differences or even the in-laws (Surprise, surprise!). It was being willing to put his needs above mine. Those few days when I allowed myself to think about my needs and myself, I felt neither happiness nor peace. I was alone and worse, I was miserable. We still struggle and are clumsy with each other's feelings especially when other people are involved, and honestly, have not resolved these struggles.
So, yes, possibly tomorrow, the same thing could happen again and the whole cycle can repeat. But at least, we are given one more day to try again.

I see on social media that many seem to think that the greatest threat to marriage is society's definition of marriage and family nowadays. But it is not. The greatest threat to my marriage is… me. 

We can choose to continue to make the marriage a testimony of God's love to man or make it threaten other people's ideas of marriage and cause them to give up hope for love.
Everyday continues to present us temptations for the latter, but God has given us MORE than enough to make sure it doesn't. But it can only happen if we allow that to. :)

And to the man I chose 9 years ago, I love you… more than I did 9 years ago. It will be less than tomorrow though. And after all these years, I do… with all my heart. :)

Image from curiano.com

When Chocolates Become a Lesson on Money

We got an email from Audrey's school yesterday telling us that her form teacher would be leaving and another teacher would be taking over the class.

On the way out for dinner, we discussed with Audrey how it would be nice to give her teacher a small present to wish her all the best in her future endeavors. Audrey agreed and thought she should get chocolates.

And who doesn't like Lindt? 

After dinner, we went to the chocolate section in the supermarket and she zoomed in to something that she thought was nice and would make a great gift. (See the picture on the right)

We agreed that it was and told her that since it was her teacher, we would be loaning her the amount and she could repay us everyday from her pocket money. Audrey was stunned. She immediately went back to check the price of the chocolates and put it back on the shelf. 

She then went through the whole chocolate section only this time she looked not just at the packaging but at the price as well. D and I smiled at each other. He of course quipped that at least she didn't pick up the $1.20 ones… but truth be told she saw a kit-kat at $0.70 and wanted to get it for the teacher which I of course told her she could get it only if she appreciates her teacher that much.. Fortunately, she put that back as well.

So here's the second choice. 

It's not too bad, but we told her, the price should not be the only factor when deciding on a gift. We got her to imagine herself as a recipient and to choose something that she actually enjoys and she would like the other person to enjoy that too. (To be fair, Audrey hasn't really eaten Dairy Milk chocolates before… I'm not sure why…) 

She put the chocolates back and went on looking for something she was okay with the price and something she knows she would like. (All this happen of course with the two younger boys running around the supermarket going crazy and asking us if their sister could buy them chocolates… *rolls eyes*)

Finally, she decided on something she liked and even gave some thought as to why she thought her teacher might like it.

Not too bad right????

There were three flavors - Cookies and cream, Milk chocolate with almonds and Milk chocolate. We asked her which we should get for her teacher, and she chose the plain milk chocolate since there is "more chocolate and who doesn't like more chocolate". 

In case you thought that this decision process is completed, it hasn't. She said she needed a card to give as well. We gave her two choices. One was to buy a card from the bookshop which would be another $4 or so or she could go home and make a nice one for the teacher. Without thinking, she said she will go back and make it. (D and I laughed at her decision)

On the way home, we discussed with how much would she be paying D everyday for the loan. Her pocket money is $2/day, of which $0.20 is put in her savings and another $0.20 is set aside for church offerings on Sundays, so which means she is left with $1.60. We worked on $0.40, $0.80 and $1.00. But D was a little concern if we got her to return $1/day she would not have enough to spend in school.  So we told her not to push it and choose something she was okay to part with. (Of course the boys overheard and told her to pay mummy and not daddy… HAHAHA. I am also not sure why?!?)

After doing her card and packing her bag, she agreed that she would pay $0.40 a day and worked out a repayment schedule with me. 

So every morning, when daddy fetches her to school, she will give him $0.40 and it was her responsibility to give it and not to be asked, which she agreed.

That night, we knew she must have felt the pinch when she actually had to pay for something from her own pocket and we reminded her that before she so decides to ask her grandparents for something she fancies in future to think if it was really necessary. 

After the kids had gone to bed at night, I began to reflect if I had actually taught my kids on the concept of money. Both D and I have never really involved them in our financial decisions to be honest. Something simple like when we host a dinner or even plan a holiday, the kids do not sit with us to discuss why we had paid a certain amount on our choices. Yet, these decisions, as simple and natural as we think, are never common to kids, which just means those decisions that were 5 seconds long in the past may become 5 minutes in future… but if that would make them more aware about money, that's a good investment isn't it? :)

Is success for ordinary people?

Yesterday, I was just browsing through my Facebook page and stopped at a profile that was a friend of D. She's not a celebrity or anything but with almost every of her post garnered at least 100 likes. She is barely 30, not married, owns a business in technology (one of the few women in the industry), gets invited to seminars and talks(with other who's who) to share on her experience and empower women, gets featured in magazines and papers and finally looks every bit a head turner.

And I remembered thinking to myself.. "Wow! What would it be if I was her?" In my eyes, she seems to fulfill a person's idea of being successful. Then I wondered if I was successful.

In fact, how do you define whether someone is successful?

To a person with little education who yearns for education, a person with PhD or academic excellence will be one with success.

To a childless couple who wants children, any others with kids will be defined as successful.

To someone who has no career (or not much), will view someone with high paying jobs as one who is successful.

To someone who has never really been dating or have a loveless marriage, then obviously someone who has been lucky in love is successful.

To someone who lives in a small apartment, then someone living in a huge place is deem successful. 

To someone who has little money, then anyone who's rich (regardless it's old wealth or not) will be successful.

You get my drift. Basically, success to one is defined by what others have and they don't. In short, it's subjective, depressing and possibly over-rated. 

But the essence of it is, can one be successful still if the person doesn't love himself/herself? 

If you think about it, it's always easier to love others than to love oneself. To be kinder to someone else, to be more forgiving and highlight their efforts than ours. 

And hence, my challenge for myself  and possibly you reading is… Can you be successful loving yourself?

I'm not saying the world should be a more selfish place by putting oneself over others, but to be kinder to oneself.

I take baby steps in loving myself.. and some can be as bimbotic as it is… but hey, at least I'm being nice to myself.

One of the best things I learn from my kids is to see myself in their eyes. Like when I think I look like a piece of crap, Julian comes up to me and says I'm more beautiful than the girl on the magazine. On days when I feel lousy, Julian comes and sits beside me and want to spend time with me.. and ONLY me. On days when I am unsure if I'm getting this parenting thing right, my kids tell me that they won't want another mummy but me. 

Even if I am not defined as successful in the eyes of the world, my kids think otherwise and the irony is, sometimes they want to be like me! 

I suppose we can only appreciate success when we truly appreciate and love ourselves. With whatever you have, it's a success already. Go out and celebrate that… with a little love for yourself. :)

When You are Thomas the disciple

Taken from www.stawoodhaven.org 

I don't know if you feel the same, but to me, the twelve disciples who followed Christ were not just 12 different people but each was a character relating to me at a different phase in my life.

I had even been Judas before… Not that I 'betrayed' Jesus explicitly but I chose something else over Christ… and at one point thought I was not worthy of the goodness of God.

D and I have been discussing about finances, selling our place and renting a place near the boys' school for P1 registration etc. We also had some concerns about the hospital bills in case it escalates because of any pregnancy complication. (Well, as this time round my placenta is quite low and there's a risk that it would attach to the previous wound and in worse case scenario, the doctor would need to remove my womb in case of any excess bleeding). That conversation kinda left us a little down and stressed (okay and lousy). It was a conversation that confirmed our fears and uncertainties.

Interesting enough, yesterday's gospel reading at mass was on Thomas (John 20:24-29), okay if you forgot what the reading was just like what you forgot what you had for breakfast today, it was essentially him saying that unless he puts his fingers to Jesus' hands and place his hands on Jesus' sides, then would he believe that Jesus has resurrected. 

Thomas, who had the privilege to experience the goodness of Christ before, doubted that Christ had (or can be) resurrected. It's interesting that Jesus ended with "You believe because you can see. Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe". Peter was able to walk on water, yet when the wind blew, he started to fear and doubt.

Personally, it's not that I didn't believe that Christ was God. It was because I focused too much on my fears and worries. And even if you know that everything is going to be okay… you need faith to believe that to the end.

Faith to me is not just the absence of fear but the call to humility. 

I need to be humble to recognize that I am not in control, He is.

I need to be humble that my life isn't in my hands but His. 

I need to be humble to know that God has never left me no matter whether I hear His voice or not.

I need to be humble to know that I don't know everything and I don't need to. 

I need to be humble to know that He is God.

Picture from pinterest.com

Thomas, the apostle, probably learnt that lesson when he touched Christ's hands and side. That lesson had lasted him through his whole lifetime where he died a martyr. 

To be fair, even after a good night's rest, the worries we had yesterday still are here today. But the difference is, those aren't only my concerns anymore and because they aren't just my concerns, I have the privilege of leaving the worrying to Him and enjoy the moment of it. 

Hopefully reading this would sustain you through the week. :)

The Pursuit of Happiness - by D

Hi everyone, this a guest posting by D.
Happiness is a topic that has been hotly debated and always on everyone's mind. Here in Singapore, in my growing years and as an adult, we have always been exposed to views in the media that happiness meant material happiness; the 5 Cs: cars, cash, condo, country club and career.

And so it was that when I graduated and started my own business as a naive and doe-eyed individual, I never saw what was to hit me. My business flopped and I tried to move location to keep it afloat, incurring huge debts in the process. Things got so bad that at one point I didn't have any income for 6 months, my dear wife was expecting our daughter in a few months and there were mortgages and business loans to pay. Naturally I ended up in hospital twice in the middle of the night with stress-induced gastric attacks. Things looked bleak and happiness seemed so far away... My friends, on the other hand, had blossoming careers and I was wallowing in self-pity; until one day I received a revelation from a very unlikely source, the little-known B-grade movie The Legend of Bagger Vance. 

Will Smith and Matt Damon were the leads of this movie. Matt Damon was a prodigious golfer who was winning awards until he hit a rough patch. Will Smith appeared from out of the woods one day and became his caddy and life coach. One scene which remained etched in my mind was when Matt Damon was playing a major tournament and his nerves were getting the better of him, so much so that he was making amateur errors and failing to keep pace with the leaders. Will Smith told him to deliberately hit his golf ball out of bounds so that he would effectively take himself off the pace of the competition and he could play his own game. He did just that, went from strength to strength, and won the tournament.

I closed my business, sucked it up, kept my head down, started working seven days a week and paid off the bad debts. I played my own game and was no longer concerned about whether other people were soon better or worse than me. I had found my nirvana.

I learnt many valuable lessons in that time. My wife and children were my biggest joys and this really was the true happiness that was all along under my nose. They gave me great strength to persevere and at the end of a hard day, just the sight of your children running up to you to greet and hug you is enough to sustain and nourish you. When you have to fight for a greater cause than yourself, you know you will not fail.

In the movie of the same title as this blog post, Will Smith fights tooth and nail to ensure survival for his son and himself. I personally find it a very moving and powerful movie. When you fight for the survival and a greater cause than yourself, you will succeed. 

I have learnt many lessons in my short lifetime. Man proposes but sometimes God disposes; to make you learn certain lessons and to show you the true meaning in life, sometimes you just have to learn the hard way. 

I wanted to fast-track my career but He made me learn Patience. I wanted riches but he showed me unconditional Love from my family, which is far more valuable than any worldly riches. He opened my eyes to how nasty people can be, even your own friends and ex-business partners who will not hesitate to take advantage of you; and I resolved never to be like them. 

Happiness is not a destination, it is a decision. You decide your own happiness and find your own joy in the mundane grind of life. Get rid of old baggages and see the beauty of the world and Life! My true happiness is knowing I get to see and spend quality time with my family, doing things for people who cannot repay you.

I genuinely delight when people do well in their careers and family. I do not profess to be a sage and have all the answers in life, but like you, I am still trying...

To quote the great Lee Kuan Yew: "At the end of the day, what I cherish most are the human relationships. With the unfailing support of my wife and partner I have lived my life to the fullest. It is the friendships I made and the close family ties I nurtured that have provided me with that sense of satisfaction at a life well lived, and have made me what I am."

I live my life according to two mantras: "Illegitimi Non Carborundum" and "No Regrets, Not Now, Not Ever", as I go about the pursuit of Happyness....