Love, the way God sees it.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

1 Cor 13

A sociology student's life.

The optimum hour of most efficient work:
10pm - 2am.
1 am is what I term 'H - hour', or 'Hell Hour' as I plow through my thick textbook, trying to grapple with advanced concepts that sounds hieroglyphic to me. To seek to understand words that I never thought could be created humanly.

Next, substance abuse:
Coffee, Japanese Green Tea, 100 Plus. All these are very good at keeping the mind alert and making the stress more bearable. Works best when infused via intravenous infusion.

Food - fuel to the brain:
For me, anything hot or sweet would do. I keep a bottle of Hershey's chocolate sauce for emergency. Very powerful concoction of pure sinful chocolate laced with calories. I also do keep a few chocolate bars lying around to ensure that my brain is perked up with sugar rush. And if I'm desperate enough, kimchi ramian saves the day. I realize that I eat alot under stress, very bad habit.

Seek out the holy grail of sociological referencing:
One word - Wikipedia. Don't forget to cover your tracks. Listing Wiki as one of your references would be considered as a suicide move. Remember the lecturer's maxim - "I'll kill you if I see the word Wikipedia..."

Master the art of sociological writing:
Synthesis of sociological concepts aka nonsensical, repetitive crapping. This is an art-form that can only be attained by a combination of delirium, work-stress, and substance intoxication. Anyone can create gibberish, but it takes a master to create impressive gibberish. This can be achieve by peppering your thesis paper with plenty of cheem terminology that you yourself would not understand - your aim is to impress. Making sense is secondary.

Engage in distracting conversations online with fellow muggers:
My form of relaxation is irritating people, especially those on 'busy' mode. I tend to ask deep, philosophical questions late at night when we are mentally fatigue just to get a cheap thrill out of their response.

Play martial music in the background:
When the going gets tough, nothing helps to push you on than martial music. A blend of Soviet patriotic, Gregorian Chant, and movie soundtracks help to stir up the Marxist in you, aiding you against the evil capitalistic barriers of tiredness and mental anguish/frustration.

Provoke your classmates by asking dumb questions and random messages of feeble accomplishments:
Ie. "How many more words to go?", "I'm almost done! How bout you?", "500!", "1275!", "Hey what are your views on the relationship between (something totally irrelevant to the assignment)?", "Had breakfast yet? (ask at 2am)", "Are you asleep yet?".

Not easy trying to conjure up a thesis paper when nothing is processed in your head. It is true, as Castells puts it, we thrive on information, and the inability to process it would render us obsolete.

Nice try, Castells.

Encouragement.

Come, don't turn away.
Let's find ourselves this place,
this sanctuary, where we can weep every unwept tears.
For in our brokenness we offer the most acceptable sacrifice we can ever offer.
For it is in our broken hearts and bended knees
where worship springs out from the depth of our wounded heart.
For it is through our pain that God moulds us and refines us like gold and silver.

For when we acknowledge our weakness and our fallibility,
we cry out the most sacred prayer known to mankind -
the desperate cry of dependence for God.
It is the prayer that God will always hear and answer.

Stop trying, come lay your weary head.
Be still my friend,
loosen the tired grip from your broken sword and shattered shield.
Come and find rest for your souls, let Dad hold you close to His beating heart.
The safest place known to all mankind, all it takes is a prayer.

So let us pray together, let us forsake that which binds and holds us down.
For when we leave behind the things we hold dear to, we find freedom.
Freedom to look up and live on another day in this cruel world.
Freedom to love and be vulnerable, to feel and understand.

Stop trying, come and lay your weary head down.
Sing wounded songs to a wounded God.
Whose heart breaks when ours break.
Come and drink freely from this well of intimacy.
For God is not far, but closer to you than a heartbeat.

For He knows the plans He has for You.
This includes every mistake, every wrong step taken.
His plans are good.
Our human hearts can never fully understand.
This calls for faith that will hold on.
It may not be a perfect one, but it is still one that holds on.

So hold on.
He who calmed the storms will calm yours too.
Don't be afraid, walk on water.
He will catch you if you fall.
We serve not only a mighty God whose strong fingers wrote ten commands,
but also One who stretched out His palm for love's nail to pierce.

He loves You.
What more do you need?
What more chasings and desiring of the world do you need?
For love is greater than death, stronger than steel.
It was there in the beginning, it shall be there too at the end.
He is there in the past, in the present.
He is there in the future too.
He is never far from you.

Knight

A knight is born to serve.

When trouble threatens the realm, he must ride off to battle.

Yes, he may fall, but he's prepared for death - this is what makes a knight noble. For even onto death his fealty holds true, to God, King and realm, and honour that which he swears by, to always protect and defend that which he cherishes the most.

The greatest fear is not the spear of his foe, nor the arrows that cuts down many a brave souls. It is when courage fails, and he turns back in fear from all that he had sworn to protect.

Sometimes his fight may seem foolhardy, even suicidal, but that is better than to be branded a coward and to forever live in its shame.

War has its risk, but we will never know the outcome unless we charge off and fight. There can be no victory without sacrifices.

I'm fighting for you.

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."

-- C.S. Lewis

(This post was inspired by a dear brother who is fighting alongside with me albeit in another realm. Heh)

Death

Death.

Death comes to us all eventually. It is an enemy that cannot be stopped, only delayed.

But death is not necessarily something physical, when will we ever realize that?

I know, I've died a hundred times this week.

Job.

All I ever wanted
All I could ever need
Not a single question answered
So now I can believe

He pierced the holiest shadow
Stepped from behind the facade
Now I know the only answer
is the hidden face of God.

- Michael Card.
The Hidden Face of God

Sometimes God doesn't gives us the answers that we want to hear. It was the same case when Job pleaded with God to answer to all the charges of his 'unrighteousness', a view held by his 3 friends that he was getting punished for his sins.

Yet God did not answer Job in terms of Job's 'why?!' and 'How long?!'. Many anti-religious would call Job's God tyrannical, but to those who walk closely with Him, we know that God is sovereign and in control that He doesn't need to explain why He does certain things.

In an act of sovereignty God even demanded Job to 'brace himself like a man, for he will be questioned, and he shall answer'. Job couldn't. The following two chapters in Job would go on to become the most painful, most beautiful description of divine sovereignty of the Creator's power. It must have pierced Job's heart, his questions all burnt up as he 'despise himself and repent in the dust and ashes'. In a supreme act of worship, Job put his hand over his mouth, an act of humility and denial of any 'rights' (if there was even any to begin with) that we can claim to have.

Instead of the tyrannical God most secularist would paint Job's God, we see in Job's case the most beautiful expression of both sovereignty and love. His account reveals a God that knows what is happening, has complete control over the 'unfortuanate' situation of Job, and that God wasn't some far off religious entity that is pleased by set rules or adherence to a certain form like breathless idols. Job's God was an intensely personal creator, a gentle Father who understands that sometimes His children needs a little testing and painful molding so they might become better and grow, for we all grow the most when we are in pain. It wasn't answers that Job needed, it was God's holy presence, which would suffice him in any given situation. This teaches us that sometimes we don't have all the answers, yet all we need is God's presence, His Paracletos, as we find faith in our hearts to do the right thing.

Foolish and weak.

Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.

1 Corinthians 1:26-29

Thank God we don't have to try so hard.

Painful.

"Mold me O God in this season, make me who You want me to be."

God is answering that prayer now.

He begins by peeling away the callous layers that had covered my heart over all these years, forcing me to face the demons that I never thought existed with whatever little courage I'd left. The process of molding is the most painful. I am the clay in the hands of the Master. He cuts away the edges, the deformities and with His firm hands pulling and breaking all that is within my heart. This is exactly what He is doing now.

God...

It's really painful.

Cold Turkey Shootout.

I think I'm addicted to coffee. Mine is a sad bittersweet devotion to caffeine, a puritanical taste for coffee's (and tea's) 'holy' essence and I wouldn't care a wooden nickel for the type or form it comes in. Espresso, latte, mocha etc, as long as it contains caffeine, it's okie.

Attempted to cut down on it, but failed miserably. Everytime I try I get a terrible migraine and find myself falling asleep almost (impossibly) everywhere. The recent 'cold turkey treatments' nearly killed me, threatening a total mental meltdown and disrupting my crucial work flows.

Coffee is my ammunition against the 'Z' monsters, it is a necessary evil. However, I realized that if I drink too much of it, my heart starts to palpitate 'violently' and I feel a sense of pain in the chest, giving me sleepless nights that are neither divine in any sense, nor because of a deliberate choice. Looks like I'm done for, I have been assimilated into the corporate drinkers of this world, the fuel that drives the great capitalist machine, the divine 'liquid' that generates brain juices for the tortured (and tired) mind.

Gosh, they should ban coffee.

... and risk an uprising that will span across every industry and service, resulting in a major economic crash fall worst than Wall Street.

Heh.

Abraham.

Imagine God telling you to sacrifice that which is most beloved to you upon the altar. That was what God commanded Abraham to do. I'm sure the pain was beyond words, yet his obedience mattered more, because God had been nothing but good and faithful. And though he may not fully understand what's going on, he knew God could be trusted, even to the point of slaying his own son.

However God intervened, He always does when there is a surrender to His will.

It was an intimate moment between God and Abraham, the only account where God "swore by Himself" to bless Abraham because of his obedience.

God does give us good gifts and blessings. However often these things must go through the furnace of sacrifice, the refining process that purifies our motives and agendas.

That's the hardest part, to lay down upon His altar that which is precious to you, the pain and agony can be excruciating.

God I know it's hard for me to give it up to You, but I know I must. It must go through Your fires of refining, or else everything will just be human. So I guess I'll wait, watch, and pray, allowing You to mold me into someone You want me to be. Things will always end up good for those who love You, this is the hope which I'm clinging onto, desperately.

Never prayed so hard in my life before...

Breathing

I'm finding my way back to sanity, again
Though I don't really know what
I am gonna do when I get there
Take a breath and hold on tight
Spin around one more time
And gracefully fall back in the arms of grace

I am hanging on every word you say
And even if you don't want to speak tonight
That's alright, alright with me
'Cause I want nothing more than to sit
Outside Heaven's door and listen to you breathing
Is where I want to be

I am looking past the shadows
Of my mind into the truth and
I'm trying to identify
The voices in my head
God, which one's you?
Let me feel one more time
What it feels like to feel
And break these calluses off me
One more time

'Cause I am hanging on every word you say
And even if you don't want to speak tonight
That's alright, alright with me
'Cause I want nothing more than to sit
Outside your door and listen to you breathing
Is where I want to be

I don't want a thing from you
Bet you're tired of me waiting
For the scraps to fall
Off your table to the ground
I just want o be here now

- Lifehouse

Check mate.

Life is like a game of Chess.

We have distinctive units each with an unique move. The whole point of the game is not to destroy as many enemy troops, but rather to wrestle the initiative from the enemy so that you 'control' his move instead of the other way round. We cannot be mastered by our enemy, but must outwit our opponents.



The key is not to rush the game. All experienced players will tell you that waiting for the right moment to strike is the winning technique. A good chess player understands his current situation, considers his resources that he presently has, and attempts to set the pace of the game by carefully and patiently analyzing the whole picture and to choose what is the best for him.

Amateur players make rash deployments due to poor understanding of the situation. They lose patience easily and are roaring to do something to win. They ignore the fact that there are many other considerations than just killing their enemies. Many thoughts must run through the mind before a move is made. So we must be very, very, very careful, for one wrong move can destroy the whole plan that has been set into motion by a higher power.

There are some particularly important moves that may affect the outcome of the entire battle and must be thought through and be reconsidered over and over again. This could include counsel from advisers who have played the game before, whose experience is crucial for a young and inexperienced player. We are all learning, no?

Life is like a game of chess.

I don't want to rush the game and make my moves hastily.