The good news is this: We're all living stories. We can choose to make them living love stories. We don't have to let the gaping hole in our hearts consume us.
The last 365 days have been all about unlearning many things. For the most part, it's felt like I was being taken apart and then, later on, put back together.
I've never really written fictional stories before, maybe because I believe all stories should have an element of truth. This is part fiction, mostly true, make of it what you will. :) It's inspired by cold winter nights, the amazing combination of whiskey + apple juice, and a whole bunch of bittersweet memories. It's a story …
We talk about haunted places, but seldom do we talk about haunted people. Things die inside of us and we either choose to let the ghosts stay, or tell them to go.
I struggled to get out of bed on Sunday. It's a familiar struggle; it was early afternoon and I was tempted to sleep in, instead of heading to church. But I relented. The moment I put my bag on the chair, the tears came and just wouldn't stop. For those who know me, it's a common …
It's been a good seven months since the big move back to Singapore. Transition has been interesting; some friends say it will take about two years for normalcy to return. Often, people ask, "Don't you miss Melbourne?" In truth, there are days when the city I used to call home does not cross my mind. …
I wanted so badly to say I love Jesus and I love the church, broken and beautiful as she is, the bride of Christ. But I couldn’t. One day, I decided to stop running. To just give it up, lay it down. And literally go - okay, God. You win. You always have. You are good. I’m going to stop fighting. I decided to choose the light.
Is a blank slate ever possible? This is life's great conundrum, I think - if life won't give us a brand new slate, are we willing to carve one out for ourselves? Are we willing to believe that we can be made new and whole in spite of our shortcomings and brokenness?
This year I fully understood that life isn't black and white. There are way more than fifty shades of grey we contend with every single day. Learning to live the questions, to look ahead and look up in spite of it all, is the challenge.
There are certain things we aren’t meant to carry, and other things that we have to carry for periods of time to understand their significance in a particular season. A broken heart belongs to the latter, I think.