Blazing love...

I don’t understand the mind of an arsonist. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I can understand some arsonists. I can understand someone who is so broke from the economic recession that he burns down his home in order to collect an insurance payment. I can understand someone who murdered her boyfriend and burns down his home to destroy the evidence. I can even understand teenage pyromaniacs (who are kind of like arsonists) who blow up stuff with illegal fireworks from Mexico because setting shit on fire is kind of cool sometimes, even if they are mailboxes or G.I. Joe action figures. I can understand all of these actions because they all have some sort of legitimate motive involved. Additionally, they are all, for the most part, victimless crimes (except for maybe the murderer who was cremating her deadbeat boyfriend). However, I can’t come to terms with why anyone would want to start a wildfire. Do these people have personal vendettas against shrubbery? Or perhaps they have deep-rooted psychological issues against hillsides? I don’t comprehend why anyone would want to set fire on a mountain, even if they were a Grateful Dead fan.

There is a distinct stench in the air this week, and it’s not just because of the news of the fire in San Fernando Valley, which has historically been considered the armpit of Los Angeles proper. Over the past week no less than three wildfires have ignited in the hillsides surrounding the Valley. High winds and dry air have been fueling the raging infernos as they blaze through the nearby neighborhoods, and the enormity of these fires has created a layer of yellow-brown smoke hovering over the entire Valley. The fact that the Valley is turning into the Biblical hell makes the situation uncomfortable for everyone. Everyone has noticed that there is a sense of instability and haziness in the air, and I have, too, but for different reasons.

This week marked the six months anniversary of when the guy I was in love with torched me and kicked me out of his life. He, who was made like John McCain and sent my ass onto the bridge to nowhere. In an overly dramatic late-night telephone conversation, him made like the Ting Tings and said, “Shut Up and Let Me Go,” and I made like Queen in Under Pressure and cried, “Why can’t we give love one more chance?” and then he made like My Chemical Romance and retorted, “I Don’t Love You.” And then he pretended like he was the AT&T 3G network and terminated the call. That day was the last time I talked to him, and this month that exact day fell on my day when I was loafing at home. But, I didn’t spend that day brooding and weeping about the day that love failed me (which is what I did the past six months). In fact, I didn’t do anything. The most remarkable thing I did on that day was eat a giant texas ted hotdog from 1901 in Gurney, and that hotdog was fucking delicious. six months ago nothing was fucking delicious.

There used to be a time when everything in the island reminded me of him, and I’m sure that everything still kind of does. The fact that we both live in the island probably warrants this type of reaction, and I suppose I’ve become desensitized to it. I don’t know what it means to “get over” someone, and I’m not sure if completely “getting over” someone is truly possible. Have you ever fallen in love? I suspect that you have, and I also suspect that, other than your burning loins, your emotions were blazing like a raging inferno. You can either control that fire with water or just let it blaze until it incinerates everything in its path and finally dies out. I suppose I’ve waited for it to burn out, and I suppose I’ve burned every bridge along the way as I let that happen. But every now and then, a flare up will inexplicably occur and make life transiently unbearable. Being uncontrollably in love is like being a mindless arsonist: I don’t understand either of them. Maybe love is about letting things burn. What the hell do I know? I’m not Usher.

God damn that 1901 was fucking delicious. I want a little more.

This is the 2nd time in a month's that the Londoner hear me crying on the phone since I came back. It's embarassing and yet comforting at the same time. my closest friend hearing me wail like a baby - over an issue he has warned me about. my closet friend, woken up at an unearthly hour, comforting me. not pointing out how silly i was, not telling me that i was wrong but rather, being there to say the words that will mend my broken heart.

"I am tired of having to put up with the silence. with the constant disappearance. the absence. everytime i am out of sight, I am out of his mind", I lamented over the phone to the Londoner.

"Havent I done all that I can? Given him time, talked to him, have opened up myself to trying to hear his side, and yet he remains, the on and off person in my life". I hear a long sigh over the phone. a sigh of disappointment? a sigh of relief? a sigh of frustration?

"Darlingggggg, you need to know that some people are unsafe. you've read about it. heard all about it. experienced it and now still facing it. you just need to give up your expectations that this fellow is going to be any more pro-active than a dormant volcano he is now. he is just too distance to realise what he is missing out", advise the Londoner. "Just be still and know that He is working it out for you. Have you spoken to the boys yet?" He probed.

"Yea. Andy's asking me to go back to Newcastle. He feels really beaten up that he has advised me to give this relationship a shot. to try hanging with this guy and all...probably he felt it is his fault I am hurt?"... "Aw. Just tell Andy not to be so harsh on himself. You see..there are a heaven loads of people who care for you more than anything...don't throw yourself over for someone who cannot appreciate you for the woman you are..and who wouldnt give a damn on how much he will be hurting you or is..", said the Londoner. sigh. big sigh.

one of our primary needs is for relationship with others, and we will often give in to compromises in values and other areas in order to have that basic needs met. For that reason, many times, I find myself cancelling and overlooking my principles to have that relationship my heart desires but which do not good to my emotional being. needing to know i matter to you and needing to know that the it hurts everytime you detached yourself from me is something i have yet to learn to tell you.

There was once, i thought i've outgrown the need for you. I thought the gushy mushy feeling I once haboured for you was throw out into the ocean ready for a new catch. I never saw it coming back. You just came and took my september away. just like that, in a wink of 3 meets, you took my heart along. charm me with your big fat smile and then left taking along my heart with you. i should've started running a longggg time ago. I should have known better than to let you play with my emotions. i bleed and i am torn. will you just go away and never come back again? will you just disappear into thin air? will you just let me live a life i deserve, for once?

Why, Lord?

I'm forced at times to question God's promises. I don't think it's because of my lack of faith- it's more a lack of my understanding of why all of the craziness is happening in my life at that particular time. Over the past 6 weeks there has been more happen in my personal life than I've felt that I could handle. I'll admit that I've been angry, bitter, depressed and confused as to why everything has happened. One of the phrases I've heard time and time again from family and friends is that God never gives us more than we can handle.

I've never been ashamed or afraid to lean on God's promises in difficult times. Last night after an extremely scary situation I decided to pull out my Bible and find what I had always assumed was somewhere in His word. "God will never give you more than you can handle." So I began to flip through the pages and couldn't find it. I got frustrated, so I logged online and googled it. Imagine my surprise when I realized- THAT VERSE DOES NOT EXIST!
However, I found lots of encouraging scripture that got me through the night and carried me into this morning. But, I'll admit, I'm still shocked that I had believed for so many years this verse was written somewhere in the wise pages of God's word, and now I know that it doesn't.

I know that God will work all things together for His glory and our good.I know that no temptation is bigger than God.

I know that He is loving and safe.

How do I know that I'm not dealing with more than what I can handle? I'm sure other people have lived through and overcome bigger things than I'm wading through. I know me though, and this feels like WAY more than I can handle.

Christians throughout my life have always said that if you're depressed, then you aren't trusting in God enough. So many great men in the Bible struggled with it though: Elijah, David, Paul….. these were amazing men of God who struggled with depression through the hard times. Did they feel as though they had more on their plates than what they could handle? If so, I'm right there with them.

It's not that I don't trust Him. It's not that I love Him any less in the difficult times of life. I know that through doubt my faith is seeking understanding. It's not weakening, it's trying to grow.

Where does this saying come from? Have you ever wondered if God is giving you more than you can handle?

Happy Happy Birthday!

It wasn't too long ago that I last saw you. you remember me, dont you?

september flew by faster than you thought. it was lonely, you were half way across the globe from me. so many nights you lay there thinking of us, only to let it stop abruptly. too fragile, too afraid. you were sitting there, trying to think of something to do, trying to think of something to keep you from thinking of me. but you know its not working out. you hear me, images of us flashes in your mind like a camera. click, there's me running me fingers into your hair. click, there's me drawing circles on your palm. click, there's me curled up on your bed. click, there's me banging on your bathroom door. click, click, click. the memories just run. you didnt mean for this to go this far, but it did. you didn't mean to get so close and share what we did. you didnt mean to fall in love, but you know you did.

you look around your room and everything reminds you of me. how do I know all these, you asked? it wasn't too long ago that you last hug me. you remember don't you? You stood there watching while i stare and salivate at the selection of chocolates. you let me pile up the baskets with a whole selection of nestles and cadburys. you hear me mumbling and talking but you werent listening. i knew you werent. you were rationalising. fighting. then you just hugged me. the world around you zoomed out. it was just us there in the aisle. it was just us in this world. no one else matter at that moment. Thats when i knew all these. because i felt it too. it was also my lonely september. thinking how to stop thinking of you. ;p you didnt meant to think of me so much but i know you did. it wasnt the smartest thing to do, you cant just seem to get it right.

I hear the gang banging in the kitchen. trying to whip up a brilliantastic birthday cake for you. it wasnt too long ago that we spoke. i hear the pitter patter of raindrops on your windshield. you are on your way home. tired. exhausted. yes. but yet excited and exhilirated. its no longer a surprise. they do it every year for you. the same celebration. the same rendition of songs. the same tricks. the same people. but little do you know, this year, it will be different.

im lucky to have been where we have been. im lucky to be able to share tomorrow with you. just lucky. lucky to have another chance tonight, at the stroke of 12, when the lights go out, and all you see is the flickering of candles to sing you happy birthday at the top of my voice!

how it will be different this year you asked? you will know it..you just will.


Happy happy birthday A. God must've added a little bit of tingle magic into your mould when He made you. And we pray this in order that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and may please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance.... in the kingdom of light.

There, i hear your car at the driveway. lucky to be coming home again.

Oh, did i tell you...im lucky to have you love me? i didnt? will tell you when i see you...there i hear you coming in the house. : ) 2 mins!

Giant vitamins made you big and strong

It has come to my attention that part of an adult's(HA!) endless roster of responsibilities is the need to take care of one's body. Hence, I have decided that I need to take better care of my body in leading a healthier lifestyle by committing to (less sex, drugs, and rock and roll...less drugs and rock and roll... less rock and roll)... eat a vitamin...once in a while.

Unfortunately I have an overwhelming disdain for dietary supplements. Like many other Chinese children in my situation, we were taught at an early age that we were physically inferior to the average American. Hence, to make up for our perceived deficiency, all Chinese boys and girls were forced to endure a cocktail of dietary drugs at an early age. For girls like myself, it was all sorts of papaya and home-brew remedies to make the airplane runways they called chests to blossom out ever so slightly so that they may be regarded as sloping hills. For the boys, it was dense calcium pellets, ginseng, antler-powder, and funny little bottles of Chinese wha-cha-ma-call-its so we may finally surpass the cartoon height-Nazis that guard roller-coaster lines.

While others got the fruit-flavored chewable tablets in colorful fun-filled shapes such as Dino, Pebbles and Bam-Bam, I got the dreaded powdered calcium/vitamins dissolved in a bowl of milk every morning. I hated that shit. The abominable powder never dissolved completely in the milk and after you drank the milk there'd always be an inch of undissolved white slop on the bottom of the bowl. Of course I was never allowed to simply rinse that crap out. Instead, I was poured another serving of milk in the bowl for me to finish the slop. And if the powder refused to dissolve even still (this happened often), there’d be another serving still; or three, or five, or seven. Hence, I attribute my current disdain of milk and milk products to that vile goo.

Therefore, I refused to endure any powered supplements. If I must choose my intake of vitamin(ed) poison, it will have to come in pill form. I consulted J, my friend who works in the Vitamin Shoppe and was told that the “best concentrated daily supplement there is,” came in a brown glass bottle with the name “Total Mins” adhered to the label. Furthermore, this vitamin goodness came for only 20 pounds a bottle!(the birds in the morning chirp: “cheap! cheap! cheap!) I happily purchased a bottle and went home. But, sitting in my kitchen with water glass in hand, I discovered upon opening the bottle that while trying to purchase vitamins, I had inadvertently bought grenades. Giant. Vitamin. Grenades

These things are HUGE! They are like the Godzilla, trample-my-digestive-tract-monster-of-pills. To top things off, the bottle says I need to choke down two of these bastards every morning! D: My throat just wasn't built for this! I simply had no experience shoving large objects down my pipe!

As I choke down these titans every morning and feel them slide reluctantly down my esophagus, I wondered if at the same moment somewhere some new fish in prison is experiencing the same gagging, choking, sensation in this throat too.

It is alright to take a break from God?

Since coming to university, I've encountered several Christians who claim to be on "spiritual hiatus" - that is, while they haven't completely walked away from their faith, they've decided to take a break from it.

They stop reading their Bibles, attending church and small group, and really, they stop praying altogether. They don't necessarily go through a dramatic spiral down the road to drugs and alcoholism - in fact, a lot of the time, their lifestyle and surface values don't seem to change at all - but they just stop making the effort to center their lives around Christ, despite knowing that He's there. They don't renounce Christianity, become atheists, or reduce Jesus from God into a "good man" - they just don't want to deal with it.

As someone who's gone through a number of dry periods and struggles, I can understand the appeal of such an action. I liken it to getting a separation rather than a divorce or to avoiding an frenemy instead of cutting her out completely. Hypothetically, it's not as if I would reject God (or His existence) completely, I'd just be giving Him the cold shoulder until I found the heart to renew that relationship.

While I'm often tempted to take a break from God, I've never really been able to. I tell myself it's because there's a part of me that's still persevering, but to be honest, I don't think I actually have the guts to just bail, even temporarily. I go through long periods of time where I don't feel motivated to pursue God, be Christly, or to pray at all, but at the same time, I'm afraid of what would happen, and what I would discover, if I lived on my own. I don't know if I could live feeling as if I were alone in the universe or that there is no plan for my life anymore. I like knowing that God is in control, and that I will never be forsaken, but I often feel tempted to "take a break" because my walk feels extremely insincere.

I've always chosen to just persevere, but the older I get, the easier it becomes to just feel bitter and frustrated about my insincere efforts. Now I wonder if taking a break is really wrong - I mean, don't you take a break while exercising, studying, or writing a paper? Aren't breaks good for a refresher? Then again, perhaps the whole concept of taking a break applies differently to relationships, as it's never fun to hear "I want to take a break" from anybody. You don't take a break from being someone's child or parent; nor do you usually hear a friend say he/she wants a break from a friendship.

In the end, I find the idea of taking a break from God problematic as I can't reject, even for the time being, how God has worked in my life. God's revealed Himself to me over and over again in worship and prayer - well, not consistently - but enough times for me to acknowledge Him as a personal presence in my life. To reject God even after He's revealed the truth to me feels like blasphemy. At the same time, those good memories start to become fuzzy when I'm stressed out about things going on in my life now. Where is God now? When did my relationship with Him become less personal?

I once heard a pastor give a sermon about why we continue our walk at all, despite all the hardships. We shouldn't pursue a relationship with God out of mere gratitude for what He has done for us in the past, or what He did for us on the cross; we pursue God because we have faith in what's ahead. While I do feel grateful for how God worked in my life during better days, I know that memory isn't enough to sustain my spiritual life - I need the faith that God is there despite my comparatively dry spirituality now, and I need the faith to believe that He will eventually bring me out of it.

Would you ever take a break from your faith? Can this help one's spiritual life, or is it dangerous to risk walking away and never coming back?