Recently, I found myself in a place of life that I was in 3 years ago. A slew of events and circumstances which were disrupted by the pandemic left me in a place which caused me to question myself and clouded my identity. Am I perceived to be successful at my work, now that I …
I don’t think the sight of me has ever terrified anyone so. There’s only one explanation.
“A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths are a statistic” – Joseph Stalin I used to share slides with statistics of missing children in Malaysia, children sold into labour or for sexual exploitation. I have journeyed with a number of such children and adults in the Tenaganita Shelter for Trafficked survivors (2005-2011). The …
Most refugees are unemployed. Some have husbands and children. All have moments of recall. Idleness causes us to think of our past. Much in our past is good. Much in our past is not good. Much that we want to erase remains with us, no matter how hard we try to erase them.
My parents always showed they love me. I never lacked food or money. My parents always tried to do right things and to avoid wrong things. They strived to be morally upright. But it was not so with others who are a part of my history. … One of them tried to …
I felt I was clamped in the jaws of a vice, with pity on one side and gloating on the other. Their response was different, but their diagnosis was the same: my family and I had been given what we deserved. I felt crushed. I felt I was dying slowly, crushed by both pity and gloati
The morning the snowstorm abated, walking to the prayer lodge, I saw Fr Michael furiously shovelling away snow at a corner of the garden. It was not in the way of anyone’s path. Here I was, tentatively and cautiously watching my every step to avoid slipping and sliding. And there he was shovelling with such gusto where no one treads.
For the miles and miles of bubble wrap, packing tape and heat-shrink plastic we have added to landfills because we now do our shopping on Lazada and Shopee instead of at the mall, or the kedai runcit around the corner. For the expensive laksa, slightly sunken butter cake and addictive crackers we have added to …
Like a mother hen Many have walked below it and some have climbed it to pluck the tamarind/assam jawa pods (I can produce the eye-witness!). I would like to refer to this tree as a she – because, like a mother hen, she extends her wings to give shade, to produce, and to reproduce (yes, …
Our little girl painstakingly collected moth larvae, big and small, and watched entranced as they inched around on her palm. An ant became less of a nuisance and more an anticipated visitor: “Big ant!” “Small ant!” “Friendly ant!” “Many many ants!”
“Grace is God reaching downward to people who are in rebellion against Him.” -Jerry Bridges
