The thing on sparrows and trust...

I wonder if cats go to heaven...

Looking at my own cat, I often wonder what will happen to it if it was not adopted. Does it wonder the same thing? I am sure it is a no. Can it even remotely imagine the scenario where it is left out in the streets, with no food or shelter? Is there family or friends who will never turn a blind eye on it? Maybe brother cat will take pity of it and invite her home.

I know none of it is true, you know it and the man on the street knows it. Yet there it is, sleeping soundly, well fed, cuddled, loved, worried upon, while it does its catty things like chase butterflies and pounce on lizards.

Of recent times I do get somewhat upset when I see dead birds on the streets. It always made me wonder that God did not take care of this sparrow that He promised in the bible. Rather than the bird, it reflected my own inability to fully trust him..

Just in case.......

In case the bird did trust him..

In case I ...

I wonder if even a person like me will make sure my cat wouldn't starve to death or die of a hot summer heatstroke. If I am willing to part with my last dollar for her cat food... If I get worried if she did not come home from her evening walks... If she is bored and needs someone to play with her...

What about God? What will He do?

Why is it that a Christian relationship is foremost about selling sinners the Willy Wonka ticket to heaven, or promises that life will be smoother, or attending church and bible studies than it is about taking that time to build trust in Him and who He is?

I find it amazing that my cat doesn't go knocking on another stranger's door when I do not grant her her favourite pork floss treat. She does not pack her bag and decide that kitty is better off changing owners who will give her a three tiered cat condo instead of a silly box with cut out windows.

Maybe she does understand trust better than I do. For me, I have to go back to the drawing board and trust that I can go about doing my 'human' things trusting God who is taking care of me.

Unbeknownst to her, Gracie looked up and found herself staring at a stranger's face.

"Dear God, please give me nice people who will love me and treat me well"

The Muddle

I was quite touched at how the conversation went today. Really warmed my heart when he tried to comfort me. Nothing harsh, just trying to encourage, showing kindness, no 'shoulds' or critical sounding things.

Maybe that is what grace is all about. It also made me thankful, the bottom of your heart sort of gratitude. The 'I know I don't deserve this but I am getting this' sort of grace.

Goodnight.

I had enough...

It's so easy to tell God 'I had enough" when we decided that something is proving to bring us more unhappiness than good.

A bad colleague, an girlfriend you no longer love, a child of a previous relationship, a boss who is hard to work with, or even a mother who has grown too old and obnoxious.

No longer are they the people you knew on Day 1, now you see them as barriers obstructing you and future happiness.

Are they there for a reason? Can I wish them away? How thrilling would it be that one day we wake up, and they are no longer there.

Is that true? Or am I simply just a coward? Why do I not wish myself to the moon instead, where I can be with my own company and no one to stand between me and the great path to happiness.

Maybe because we still want people in our lives, but unlike the moon, we want to sieve out the people who become the awkward pieces of our lives.

Because life was meant to be happy? We are suppose to make those wonderful choices that at the end of the, bring looks of admiration and contentment because we have so carefully, deliberately and sensibly carve the path that flashes 'Congrats on choosing all the right paths, you have reached your destination where few tread'.

One of my favourite authors, John Ortberg wrote a book titled ' When the game is over, it all goes back in the box'. Whether you spent the days lazing, doing 1000 things, achieving, earned lots of money, have none, laughed a lot, cried plenty, killed someone, is one of the world's most admired, you join the ranks of others to go back to the box when your life on earth is over.

I remembered I had an eccentric boss once. He initially got on my nerves, and eventually got to others nerves. He drove me 'nuts' on an everyday basis, to the extent that I woke up every morning praying that God will do something about it, that I have to strength to press on. Of course I did expressed my displeasure during a feedback session, and I unkindly wondered 'Why is he here?'. My empathy waned and I grit my teeth with anger sometimes. He was eventually asked to leave. On his last day, he was sad but said to me 'Hey, thanks for helping me all this time'.. and I could tell he was very sad. At that moment, my heart regretted being of such bad spirit, overly anxious and not let God handle the rest. I couldn't look him in the eye because I knew my past actions did not convey that I was sad to see him go. I really wished I did not have those bad thoughts about him.

I wish I was more courageous in the face of adversity or inconvenience. So that when it goes back into the box, I could say 'that was hard, but I am glad for the person that it made me into'. We grow little when life is travelling fine and everyone is singing the same tune as us in the same timing. We go back into the box no different from the way we started out playing the game. What kind of game will it be if we only pass Go, collect $200, get out of jail free and collect rent on Mayfair? More importantly, why is there an impatience to roll double 6s, finish building all the hotels when we know it all goes back into the box when the game ends?

Don't lose sight of the present and what life gives you at this moment in time. It may not be your flavour, but it is there for a purpose... so don't be in a hurry to say "I had enough", for God knows when you truly had enough.

There is a season for everything.

Wonder

I have recently finished the book 'Wonder' by R.J Palacio. It was an easy read about a boy growing up with possibly Treacher Collins syndrome which causes facial deformities. The book chronicles August's ('Auggie')  younger years of growing up to entering mainstream school and reveals the realities faced by him. There are also portions written from the perspective of those close to him- his sister and good friend amongst a few.

In my many conversations with friends now, I have to be thankful that I never felt like I was bullied. While I did not have facial deformities like Auggie, I had a big head of afro hair. A little scrawny chinese girl with a large afro hair during the pre-internet, conservative Singapore is not that much of a fashion statement. Like Auggie, I often get second, third or fourth takes in public, people covering their mouths whispering to each other, the pointing... the description brought back memories. In a particular episode I still remember, a little boy sitting across the seats in a train remarked to his mother 'Mom, she is so ugly. How is she going to get married?'. I actually felt embarrassed for the mother, whom I can see was nervously looking if there was an emergency window she can break to jump out of the moving train. The rest sitting there pretended they didn't hear a thing. Perhaps they too wanted to nod in unison. For it'll be a lame line to correct 'No son. You can't judge a book by its cover'. Any comments like that will incite mass suicide in the train. Now that I think about it, it was quite amusing.

I stared at girls with pigtails and ponytails and wondered how that can be a reality for me. Mom kept my hair short so that it would not look too poofy. I smoothed it down with gel and anything heavy I could get my hand off. When the wind blows, it's like chaffs of dried hay got blown all over, impossible to lay it down into a shape again. The curious fact about afro is, it is water resistant. So I never looked like I swam, nothing I slather on will stay, and yes, I do know how Michael Jackson feels.

It made me proud of the primary and secondary school I went to. I never received a nasty remark from a friend or classmate. There were definitely nicknames, but even my cousins will call me names like that. I know it was not done to taunt me. Or perhaps I have since grew that elephant hide skin that left me immune to the discourse of my hair. Reciting the Lord's prayer 100 times didn't work, but divine help came in the technology of hair straightening when I was in my mid teens. I never looked back since.

But this means I do not get a prize for being courageous, unlike Auggie. What I probably get is a glimpse of Auggie's world, although it is nothing that close to the anguish he would have suffered. I do like the easy read, and will recommend it to older children who sometimes need to know their convictions and not go along with the crowd to ostracise someone who looks different from them. I am one glad beneficiary of such courage, and that was why I wasn't the one wanting to cry inside the train when that boy made that remark.

Loneliness

Do people have children because they don't want to be lonely when they are old?

Lately I had visions of a dingy dark brick apartment, with an old couch and the only light seemed to come from an old flickering television. There is a shadow of an old person sitting inside. Maybe she had her dinner, maybe there is not much to be eaten.

How is it like to be old and lonely? Would it feel like the world has forgotten about you? What if there are no doorknocks, and neighbours mind their own business, and life appears the same day in day out? Perhaps I am being bleak, that there will be friends and loved ones who may be what'spping, asking how the day has gone.

I wonder how many people in this world are lonely tonight though. What do lonely people do?

Goodbyes

Note to self: Hellos are fantastic, but too many goodbyes can be bad for health.

Note to others: Hope our goodbyes are only temporary.

Bye to my dear friend who helped me tick the list of the things I wanted to do here. Bye to another who finally made it for me to share the places I loved but never had the chance to share with.

I miss you.

Merry Christmas

Was this how it felt like when I left?

Merry Christmas. Have a wine, some carols and light a candle for me. 

Lacuna..

Where do memories go and die? Do you bring them to the graveyard, bury it six feet under, and place a bunch of flowers over it?

What about memories that you prefer not to revisit? Is that why people scatter the remains of someone into the sea or send it over the sky with a literal bang? That there is no point sitting by the headstone wiping tears and recounting the pain year after year.

Why do people visit graveyards? Is it to heighten those memories? Is it to console the dead that they are still remembered and loved? Is it to avoid feeling guilty lest we forget?

What if there is no point remembering all that anymore, however great those memories were? Or perhaps we  will never lose those memories, we simply forgot why they cease to be important with time.

Goodbye love

Love ends when the only thing you can think about is no longer the other person, but you.

That New Kitty Cat

Dear Kitty,

It's been 6 years since you have passed on. Memories of you still remained, and there were some days I wished you were here silently supporting me through the milestones of my life.

Since you left, I have no courage to get myself another cat. I wasn't sure if I could handle another cat leaving me, and I did not want to shortchange the new cat by letting it substitute who you were.

I finally adopted a kitten this year. The neighbour came by with a little tabby kitten. Her name is Gracie and she's about 9 months old now. She reminded me of the days when I played with you when I was 9 years old. I almost forgot the days you pounced at my feet, climbed the windows, played with lizards, and greeted me at the door. Gracie is a active mixed breed Bengal, and has a longer body than you. She sleeps in a most ungraceful manner (all stretched out) and she is not very vocal when it comes to asking for things. I can see that her nose and chin are bigger than yours, and she doesn't know that kisses meant affection (yet).

I remembered those trips away where I did not see you and the first thing I look for is you when I return. I was away from Gracie for a while, and I missed her terribly. I guess I have allowed myself to fall in love with another cat. It feels different from the last 6 years of patting other people's cats.

You had to deal with me as a kid when you were growing up, and now I am Gracie's mummy. I scold her when she misbehaves and gets into catfights. I read up on cat nutrition, check out the labels on cat food, and even started brushing Gracie's teeth. I can tell Gracie's a lot more spoilt. I've got the fan blowing at her now because she was rejecting all her usual sleeping spots because it has been a warm summer day.

I have a lot to thank my own mother for, for modelling for me since young that pets are there for life. There is no 'give away' option. I am glad I kept you for 20 years, from watching you as a kitten into an elderly cat who was losing his once acute hearing. I had a horrible realisation that if Gracie lived as long as you, there'll be 2 old women in the house in years to come!

Many things about Gracie has invoked some of the things I've forgotten about you. I pray that she will be well loved and live a long life, just like you.

Miss you lots.

When you really want to throw it away!

Today is one of those days kitty cat drove me nuts till I want to do the proverbial "Why did I even adopt you!"

She woke up with me, and immediately asked for food before I can brush my teeth. I made her food, and she walked away immediately. Later I did coax her to have some food but she totally rejected. Worried, I gave her some milk, and after 3 sips, she nervously eyed the window. I wondered if she was ill.

After going out for 3 hours, I heard a loud hissing and yowling at the front of the house. There was a cat fight going on. I rushed out to try to join in break up the fight, but there were no cats in sight. I waited and peered over the neighbours, looking under bushes, but no sign of kitty cat. It took me a while to see that the fight has moved to the back of the house. Kitty watching from inside, Monkey the calico cat teasing her from under the garden bench. This was Day 2 of fighting. It pretty much explained for the big blood curdling YOWL I heard one night followed by strange noises that followed.

I felt like an embarrassed mom whose child has gone out for a street fight. I scolded Hoolikitty, and locked her in. No doubt kitty finally ate her food finally when the fun was gone.

Cleared 2 live baby blue tongue lizards from my room and chased after one in the storage cupboard. KITTY! Stop bringing the lizards in. Now I am absolutely paranoid that one will crawl into my clothes in the wardrobe without me knowing and I will have the time of my life when I put them on. Same for shoes. Same for the 2 tails that detached on the floor... arghh!

Kitty decided she hasn't had enough and scratched the sofa. I scolded her, smacked her and she thought it was fun to start a game of catch. I think she's quite a prideful cat because when I am scolding her, she pretends to paw a nearby ball and looked horribly distracted with it until I walked away.

So she really kept me busy today. Kitty got scolded through and through, and for once, I really had that angry thought to 'throw kitty away'.

 After part 1 of catfight. Monkey is outside under the bench teasing Kitty.

 That's Monkey under the bench.

 Kitty getting upset Monkey is leaving, and quickly jumps to the kitchen window to follow Monkey from inside the house.

Trying to annoy me with her antics. Drinking water from the toilet bowl. (Mummy, can you please keep MY water fountain running? Especially on hot days?)

Words

The next time you are wondering about trusting someone's words, go for the actions. There is nothing as telling as someone's actions.

Temperature Rising...

The temperature is soaring to 37 degrees today. Gracie has already sensed it, and she insisted on sitting in the cool bathroom. I have since invited her to my 4 storey wardrobe apartment where she is now nestled among my clothes on level 1.

So the killer kitty is taking a break today. Thank goodness, or the heat will definitely bring a few more baby blue tongue lizards out into the open for killer kitty to break her boredom.

(As I speak, killer kitty decided to head out.. arghhh!!) It's already quite warm outside at the moment.

I really love these pictures on Misao the Big Mama and Fukumaru the Cat. Really lovely and well taken. I will keep it on my wishlist for Christmas.

http://www.lifewithcats.tv/2012/11/09/misao-the-big-mama-and-fukumaru-the-cat/

Dead things everywhere

It's summertime and Gracie cat is out prowling the gardens.

She's still a kitten and often wants someone to play with her. I made her toys, but I think she wants something interactive.

Lately, she sniffs out baby blue tongue lizards from the backyard. On a good sunny day, she can bring in as many as 5 lizards. I know the cues. The house suddenly turns quiet except for the pitter pattering of little feets, the little bell on her collar ringing, she is totally engrossed with something.

Yikes, it is a lizard in various stages of 'still alive-ness'. I will chase kitty away, and then scoop up the baby lizard, hoping it is still alive and intact, and bring it out into the yard again. I know Kitty will bring a new one because the new ones have their tails intact. I found a dead one in my room the other day.

Today, she brought in a butterfly. But as delicate as butterflies go, poor little thing was almost dead. I left it out hoping that it will miraculously recover.

Quite mad with that little murderer now. I know she is a in-born hunter, she's bored, and if only she likes walks instead of hunting. I tried putting her on her leash but the moment she steps out of somewhere unfamiliar, she is so scared it is impossible to walk her.

Really wish to make her a little cat tree so she can climb around and play on her own. I saw the Stolmen cat tree under Ikea Hacks but the other chap here doesn't like to see kitty furniture inside the house.

Blue tongue lizard baby.. this one is thankfully alive

Goodbye little butterfly. Rest in Peace.

Mummy I didn't do it!

Seasonal or Evergreen

I saw an ex boyfriend as I was driving today. There was a girl next to him, and she was laughing, talking to him rather animatedly.

I was amused. For once upon a time, I was that laughing girl. We were walking to all our favourite haunts, and I was the bubbly one chattering along.

What I never really thought of in the past was that before me there were other happy girls standing next to him. One by one we replaced each other, and truth to be told, we were only put there for a season.

There were some friends and people we meet in life that is only there for a season. They are either there to help us, cheer us on, tide us through or simply to teach us a lesson in life. When the purpose is done, you both move on and have nothing more to do with each other.

Yet there are the people who are there for the long and short of your life. I had a high school friend whom I used to hang out before university. He went to NS and I went to uni. Then we both stopped hanging out when he left for overseas studies. Yet he'll call me from the airport before he flies back, and I will pick him at the airport even at the wee hours. I flew over once and we parted with this crazy misunderstanding. When he returned from working in the US, I went to Melbourne. Recently we finally returned to Singapore, and still did the same airport hangout. He'll still sent me to my doorstep, and chat on till late before leaving. All the same routine for over a decade now.

I never thought much about the friendship but now find it quite a gem to be able to keep in touch for so long. These are the sort of friendships you know you can't replace. The joys of growing old is that you finally get to see what time reveals. What goes like the fads of yesteryears, and what stays like an evergreen classic.

When it is not about the distance...

I know most people run long distance as easy as they stir sugar into coffee.

I recently completed a 16.8km run with my friend. It was the longest distance I have ever ran. We vowed to 'train' every weekend, running along the beach and various location. There were some weeks I did not feel like running, but we egged each other on. We moved from running during the cool evenings to trying to beat the full sunrise on weekend mornings.

Mysteriously, I completed the race. The furthest I ran before the race was about 8km, and I asked my friend if I was able to complete it. A two-time sundown marathon runner, she laughed and said 'just walk and run.. you'll get there'.

I worried about the distance. I worried about lagging behind, or even being the last of the crowd. In the end, the distance didn't faze me at all, the heat did. It was a cloudless day, and the sun was beating down on us at 8am. Soon I felt so hot I was drizzling water all over my face and limbs. After uncountable water stations, I arrived at the sight of the big marquee, more happy that there is shade more than anything else.

Many times in life, there is the obvious problem, the bugbear, the thorn in the flesh. We mull over it before it happens, and we do not want to be the 'loser'. I had GPS timings for all my practice runs, I extrapolate distances, I studied the route, but I never anticipate that the thing that will bug me most is the heat and sun. After 10km, I realised the distance no longer bothered me, and if I had a choice to continue to a half marathon, I would be able to do it. I learnt how to improvise along the way, changing my run strategy to 'run when there is no shade, slow down when there is'. Watch me on at the F1 pit stop, I was running like a Ferrari (no, probably a Toyota) along the grandstand where there was no reprieve.

But there were also quite a satisfaction in the end. It did not come with just completing the race and posting that 'achievement' to boast on facebook, but it was the silent comfort to know that somewhere inside me, I harboured the commitment to train for the weekly runs, the discipline to run the distance, weathered the heat without complaining and very privileged  to deepen a friendship along the way.

It's strange how completing 2.4km fitness test during secondary felt so much like a drag. Good things come with age.

Random things I want to do...

I was thinking about my retirement plans and suddenly there were some things I am hoping to do after 60.

1) Enrol in a Christian counselling course and take up counselling after retirement. If I can afford three square meals by then, I will help give free counselling in church.
2) Illustrate a children's book, preferably with a cat character in it. I was looking at Alice in Wonderland but some of the pictures looked a little scary.
3) Learn how to draw those really pretty botanical drawings or flowers, leaves and birds.
4) Open a cattery. Decided I can't do animal rescue because I am too soft to put down kitty cats.
5) Plant my own veggie patch- that will be my form of exercise

To listen, to draw, to nurture...

One man's actions, another's pain

What happens if a drunken person drives and knock a cyclist down, and the cyclist got seriously injured and as a result, fell into depression, lost his job, his friends and his income? The drunken man is slapped with a fine and gets a jail term of 6 months. After 6 months, one man has paid for his consequences and one man is still reeling.

What if a husband with a highly paid job divorces his wife and takes the children and house along with him after paying his wife her rightful share. She does not have the ability to feed the kids as a single mom and so relinquishes her children. What if the wife has devoted the last 10 years of her life to the family and had no large savings nor career to speak of? The man later remarries someone else.

What I want to know is, how do the cyclist and the divorced wife live the first 3 months in their new state?

Do they get mad at the perpetrator, even if he had made the necessary compensation? Is compensation enough?

Do they blame themselves for not being 'careful', 'smart', and to see it coming?

Do they just 'get over it' because what's past is past, so let's get the party started!

Do they ask God 'why me????'

Do they just decide that life is not fair and get bitter?

Do they look outside their 5th floor window one quiet night and with their tear streaked face, wondered if life is really that worth living after this.

I really don't know how to offer answers to life changes as a direct or indirect consequence of someone's actions. These scenarios are a little different from sad stories involving sickness and poverty. I know of real people in the two situations above and they are doing well now. What I do wonder is, what were the initial months like? How do they get over the pain that someone's decision can plunge them into such darkness, even if the harm wasn't deliberate. Did people tell them to get over it, or forget the past?

Elijah goes into the cave

You are not in the position to evaluate your own effectiveness.

Let God render the final verdict.

That still small voice

Were there days where all you wanted was to hide inside a cave, shut the world out, and tell God 'I had enough!'... I did, and before I felt too ashamed of myself, Elijah did too.

I'm very touched to read that while Elijah was in the cave feeling so depressed, God did not tell him to 'toughen up', 'grow up', or get his act together. He simply cajoled him to go out of the cave and watch what happens. Then just when he thought God will appear in an earthquake or strong winds, there was nothing.

Yes.. nothing after one last desperate hopeless prayer. Nothing after you curl up and die. Nothing even when you finally convinced yourself to feed on some food and watch some tv, and nothing when the thoughts in your brain start to churn. Then one day, it comes in that still small voice to tell you what to do.

There are some spirits which must go through a discipline analogous to that sustained by Elijah. The storm-struggle must precede the still small voice. There are minds which must be convulsed with doubt before they can repose in faith. There are hearts which must be broken with disappointment before they can rise into hope. There are dispositions which, like Job, must have all things taken from them before they can find all things again in God. Blessed is the man who, when the tempest has spent its fury, recognizes his Father’s voice in its under-tone, and bares his head and bows his knee, as Elijah did. (F. W. Robertson)