While being sandwiched in a crowded MRT, I observed how people are using their smartphones or books to form their personal space.
Heads down, eyes on their screen, earphone on—like a fortress to protect their personal space, when they have little choice but to share more than what they like of their physical space.
So many people being together, yet not connected, alone in their world.
That’s when I thought of this irony:
Questions to ponder: Is there anything that we can do about this? Is there a need to?
This post is a way for me to process my thoughts—four days after knowing that my husband has cancer. It is also for our family and friends who are concerned with how we are feeling with the diagnosis. It is my prayer too that it’ll be a sharing of hope for you.
I’ll be posting more about this on this blog (and probably not anywhere else) from time to time. You can subscribe to my newsletter to receive updates whenever I post something new. Continue reading →
Diary entry: The only hope in this post is my hope in the Lord who will work His way in me, turning this angry tyrant into a mature person. Sigh.
Off! Flew the chopsticks; as I demonstrated my anger vividly.
Such a tyrant-like behaviour from me. Over petty matters. Really stupid matters.
I have no idea where was my PAUSE button. Where IS.
Is it something that God will change in a snap of His finger?
Or, do I have to work HARD at it?
How can I do so when I can’t see the PAUSE button?
I read Bible verses about anger. Cringing in shame when it pointed out the fools who were ruled by their anger outburst and careless words.
I’m that fool.
I read ways of communicating my displeasure—none of which that involves the throwing of chopsticks, raising of voice, nor cussing.
I let it get to me.
I let it.
Like an itch I must scratch.
I let that anger escape loudly.
The only thing is, instead of a soothing aahh when an itch was scratched and therefore relieved—nothing is soothing about sinning in anger.
It vomits and splatters on everyone in its path.
All over the place, uncontained.
Lord, Lord, what is to become of me?
I’m staring out of my hotel room window. The sound of kids laughing and playing in the swimming pool is audible even from 22 floors above. A contrast to my sadden heart as I just learnt of a friend who has suddenly passed away and gone home to the Lord.
20 days writing prompt series. Day ten: Let the scene write itself
Would I write daily?
Would I be happier? Continue reading →