Faces // Love is not a thing to be so used

Maybe I write this post as a mini self rebuke, maybe an act of subtle self-glorification.

"A discerning man keeps wisdom in view, but a fools' eyes wander to the ends of the earth." Proverbs 17:24 Feels like straight in the heart rebuke when I read it this morning.  Dear Mum and Dad, family and friends:
I am both sorry and not sorry. Which in effect is not sorry at all. And I am, in my better self, sorry for that. Sorry that I don't really care about the great mess in my room nor the fact that I probably lost my identity card. It really doesn't matter at the end of it, like I said to the utter dismay of my friends in response to the possibility of missing our flight back to Singapore. 
After awhile, it kinda sucks being seen as crazy/foolish/needing to be restrained. Of course, there is truth in it. (No, I shall not be tempted into emotional pride and feel like it's me against the world) Yet I hope that some of this other-worldliness is a vision lived out... …




 “一个不平凡的人啊! 难得难得,要是你是男孩子就会比较理想。因为,女孩子会有一点点不方便。”

原谅我这一生不羁放纵爱自由。 也会怕有一天会跌倒。

I attempt to twist my hands free from the firm grasp on my wrists- it hurt when I struggled. I never liked how I can't seem to be trusted to cross the traffic lights myself. 

My dress rode up a bit as I started to pedal the Obike. 他们一定骂我的。穿这样骑脚踏车!Yet there was a strange satisfaction in that act itself. 

Maybe that's why, I want to travel solo so badly.


I really cannot help it.

//On brighter things: Watercolour inspired by the Amdo Tibetan print on the handmade Tibetan pouch - the seemingly lone flowers are linked together in a bigger tapestry.
Proverbs 3:19-20 before me while I painted: "By wisdom the LORD laid the earth's foundations, by understanding he set the heavens in place; by his knowledge the deeps were divided, and the clouds let drop the dew."

Hello, Jaded

This should be for when I feel like I am not going anywhere, not making any difference, or not doing enough where I am in social work.


The most part of this month was grappling with wanting to be free.

Free to do what, and from what?

To do what I want, both in social justice and interfaith work and what-not to change the world, and more frivolous stuff like going where I want when I want (i.e. alone).

To be free from being bound to imperfect systems- in my mind operationalised as getting told what to do regardless of whether I choose to or not. (But the root of it is, I realise, I hate getting told what to do especially when I feel like it constrains the create-tive use of my time)

Are you truly free? 
For what seemed like a long struggle, I didn't want to accept that in many senses, I am not free to do as I please. Resentment would be riled up when I perceived that my time was given where I didn't want to. Angry at ho…

Dixit Insipiens

Still spiteful. The kernel of bitterness, resentment and self-pity burst open this morning and I was one with the pouring rain. I felt like Orual, holding that small, tattered book filled with complaints.

Is that how laments actually feel like? Such deep measure of grief tore through me that the loud sounds proceeding forth were so strange, yet that was my real voice.

Are we not one, made to live in harmony? I have already forgotten what it was like when the family was truly four. A gentle answer turns away wrath, as the proverb goes. Not much of that from me. The grief was poisoned till the torrents cleared away the layers hiding the resentment I guess.

Still hard to love. Almost like I don't know how to, for him anymore. Oh, Brother. Why can't you be like other brothers? I want to love you, Brother. You know we love you, Brother.

Till We Have Faces

And soon did I set out to procure the book, and now I have finished it.

It does feel like a few grand themes in my life are coming together- all of a sudden at times, and then so slow it makes me jumpy the other. I know it is a dangerous thing to say, especially regarding that which I hold cherished. And so with veiled words and a weak attempt at eloquence:

Pi, you have guessed it,
A mystery known and yet not.
But hush, don't be excited,
The main character is not him.

Simple Psyche with that meek beauty,
Or Orual (her name I turn over in my lips more than Psyche) the embittered,
Fox with his wise Greek sayings,
And the gods who did not answer till Orual got her answer in her complaint.

But no these are far from the main character,
Whom we (I) fail describing and have failed.
The story is now mine (and yours?),
With He who made Orual a Psyche.

Thus my resolve,
After which a realisation.
Till I have been cruel of heart (in the words of Orual still with veiled face),
Till I long for …

At the Jouney's End

又回到这个温暖优美的家。不是我的家不过好像在这短短的 4 天里有那么多美好的时光。不是纯纯快乐的,而是有时带伤感的。

I think I have become in a sense more emotional, more attuned to my own sorrows and even seeing it's beauty. Still like being alone to think and reflect, but I have come to express some of these reflections, because I have learnt that first ministry cannot be done alone and second that there are people who care passionately about the same things too.

Hmm the pride is still there but the monster has taken on a different form. I used to not want to share both because of self-protection and the emotional pride: No one cares! Now that I am... So accomplished in the eyes of many, the pride distorts how I view myself. With such great blessing of various strengths comes that thorn in the flesh- and I was reminded again of His all sufficient grace. Power made perfect in weakness, and so let me boast about my weaknesses.

Looking and hearing at the new Exco share about their reflections on ministry based on th…


The entire trip with the Hagar staff and supporters was a tremendously blessed one. Apart from seeing the wonderful work done, it was also meeting people that have the same heartbeat and have gone ahead of me.
Just wanted to write down how each of these people have touched my life, for that blip of shared time in Hanoi:
Firstly, it became such a joy being somewhat of a wallflower and looking at Lynette laughing so heartily at the smallest things. There was always something to laugh at or be playful about, and the van was filled with boisterous laughter throughout the 4 days. The sisterhood with Camy was also something so beautiful, and both of them really exuded that joy in service and in working for Hagar. It must have been a leap of faith to work in Hagar with only 3 staff and no office (until recently), being in the stable job of MSF. Kelda's dedication to take photos which meant she would always not have a nice shot of her inside the group photos was also something which caused…