Not done

We are not done with our changes.

We continue to become.

I am not done with this growing confusion. I have not overcome.

I still have questions that don’t have easy answers to. And I’m afraid of making a mess out of everything.

This doesn’t look like much – Salmon on toasted brioche.

Simple late lunch with simply lovely friends on a mucky mid-week afternoon.

What a blessing.


Missed match

Anton Chekhov said that anyone can handle a crisis. It’s the day to day living that wears you down.

Mid-afternoon break with a colleague who chose a blueberry smoothie. I didn’t know men drank blueberry smoothies, but we learn something new every day.

He tells me I look tired. I tell him I’ve been told as much, quite a few times.

We are preparing for the next interview, and I am quickly losing it to the fear.

I ask- Please, be my Strength.

It is the end of the day, and my heart is disquieted.

I also ask – Please, be my Hope.

On a work day 

Probably best sums up the week – Lei Garden at Chjimes, one soupy pork dumpling per staffing officer. Laptop on my lap, furiously responding to an email that should have been sent out a day ago. A heart that should be filled with gratitude at the lovely private room, but is tired, and fearful of the next assignment. 

I realise at the end of this work week that I need to reframe the way I view work. To know that work has dignity, necessity, and is a responsibility of His people. All work is delegated by God and designed for our human good and for His glory. To know that some will slave away in banks (even with a paycheck), others in their law firms over files, others as civil servants slaving away on submissions and slide decks and meetings (even with a good bonus). And God is not particularly concerned about where I am slaving away, just that I am doing it to please Him. 

yet, there is a real tension, isn’t there? ‘cursed is the ground because of you (Adam), through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life. it will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field.’ Work is painful, and it will frustrate. And ultimately, it becomes futile, for we will labour until ‘you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return’ (Genesis 3:19). 

Perhaps my biggest problem is the middle-class gullibility about work which drives many of my peers into changing jobs ad nauseum. Desperate to find fulfilment and to realise potential in my work today. Yet He never intended us to fulfil our potential through work. Nor did He ever intend us to find ultimate satisfaction in work. He will instead deliberately frustrate our work. 

I love that the word ‘career’ was taken from the medieval French word which referred to running at full speed on a racecourse. I’m told to pursue my career, as though this is what will really last at work. But this concept of advancement has no biblical warrant. The rung I reach or the title i have achieved will have no relevance at all when we meet Jesus for His appraisal at the end of life. 
I have let the annual appraisal, the inspection, the 360-degree assessment define me. Easily forgetting the higher goal of work – to please God, and with the eyes fixed on Christ, to live differently in the workplace. 

God has not been trying an experiment on my faith or love in order to find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I who didn’t.

In this trial He makes us occupy the dock, the witness box, and the bench all at once. He always knew that my temple was a house of cards.

His only way of making me realize the fact was to knock it down.

~ C.S. Lewis

Sunday rain

I still sometimes dream, occasionally in the most intense and brilliant shades of blue, of a gaping crevice that I fall into each time, and a sense of panic at falling yet again.

Each time I am haunted, on awakening, by a sense of meanings just withheld, and by a profound nostalgic melancholy.

why should this dead loop of memory, creeping up only in these few days, be so charged with potency in my unconscious?

Why should I be so afraid, so troubled by the waking moments that sleeping moments are so hard to come by?

I think I have forgotten thankfulness in this season. I think I am struggling with blankets of uncertainty and fear.

Oh Lord, speak to this weary heart.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.

Don’t let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

Book of Hours, I 59

Rainer Maria Rilke

Once more


How am I to run this section of the race? I tire so quickly, and my mind is not focused on the Finish Line.

I’m distracted by scents and sights. I don’t have the strength to finish.

Lord, please help me in my short-sighted weaknesses. I’m not who I should be, but by Your grace, I am what I am.