“Could this be how it feels like if my husband is no longer around?”—asked my heart, as I trod out of the church auditorium into a sea of people who were mostly chatting with someone—while I stood there momentarily lost, and alone. Continue reading “Tell the devil who wants to steal your peace, “not today!””
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. Continue reading “Thoughts from my husband’s cancer diagnosis”
‘I want to swim again’
said my late mum to her oncologist when at her stage-4 cancer, he asked what is it that she wants to do (to encourage her). Fight she did, but she never got the chance to go into the pool ever again.
What is it that you want to do even if it’s just a simple thing—but you are giving yourself excuses not to?
Or, are you questioning ‘does it matter to do what I’m doing?’
I question myself many times about my role in the church office. I question my blogging; writing about God. I question myself even over this 365 daily word thingy. Does it matter? Will it make a difference to other people?
Hubs told me, ‘Even if you do it, you may not know in your lifetime whether it will matter. But if you don’t do it, you will NEVER know and will live with this niggling thought. Maybe even at your death bed; regret.’
#day3 #dailyword #dailycalligraphy #noregrets #makeadifference #365
Three months after I joyfully accepted Christ into my life, I received the shocking news that my mum was diagnosed with stage-four lung cancer.
You’ve answered some of my silliest littlest prayers like, ‘Dear God, help me enjoy the process of this dreaded grocery shopping and housekeeping.’
In my immature way, I wished and wished my prayer of letting my mom be with me for much longer be traded with the rest and be answered instead.
I wished that she has the chance now to enjoy a better daughter; since He made me a better person through the process of growing in Christ. We would have such a wonderful relationship now that I’ve learnt how to love.
But Your ways are a mystery. And it’s beyond my comprehension.
The only comfort and the most important one at that is I’m assured that mummy is safe with You in heaven. Two years free of earthly pain, suffering and sorrow.
Being reminded of never being able to call my mom mummy again sucks.
*staring at the computer screen. at work.
Help me to pull myself together today.
…. Maybe He doesn’t want me to pull myself together. Maybe He wants me to let go.
Just watched Saving Mr.Banks. Until I make peace with the knowledge that everything in this temporary world is, well, temporary… I would always go on living in fear of losing people I love to death.
Until I make peace with the HOPE that because we have accepted Christ and therefore death is ONLY the beginning of an eternity… I will only know of the hope, but not live it.
Watching ‘Mr. Bank’ died in his bed with the young Helen Goff standing there, stir up image files of me standing inches from my mom as she drew her last breath.
I too, like Helen Goff need to put an end to replaying the painful memories and replace them with our happy times. Images of how beautiful she looked. Images of us… I can’t find the happy files, I’m sure they are somewhere in there.
Seeing my mom’s photos and closing my eyes in pain. Yep. Not healed.