The big picture

"Since the days of John the Baptist, the kingdom of heaven has been advancing with force. And forceful people are taking hold of it." -Matthew 11:12 (NIRV)

"The Kingdom of Heaven has been forcefully advancing, and violent people are attacking it." -(NLT)

"And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force." (NKJV)

This is a verse that has troubled me greatly when I read it today. Just go to BibleGateway and check out what all the different translations say.

I mean, how can different translations of the Bible be so inconsistent and contrary to each other? I found it very puzzling and disturbing. Being my usual nerdy self, I had to go Google more information on it for a good half an hour after reading this passage.

And what I discovered was this whole confusion over the meaning of the Greek word biazetai, which can be translated to either negative violence or positive force, depending only on a very close study of the context in which it is used, much like many words in the English language today.

Christians being Christians, or rather humans being humans, there was plenty of argument and debate about it.

But I came away from my reading at peace because what I consistently got from all my reading was context, context, context. In order for this statement to fit in with the rest of the Bible and its entire message, what was Jesus trying to say here? The context is everything.

And when I look at verses like Philippians 3:12 ("Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to TAKE HOLD of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me."), I realise that this verse is not so troubling at all when looked at in the right context. In fact, it fits right in with the rest of my theology.

And this just served to remind me of the importance of context. Of fitting things into a bigger picture. Reductionists believe things can be explained the more you break them down. But all the science in the world can't explain profound miracles like falling in love.

Surely, surely everything is part of a bigger picture - and when we understand that big picture, we understand the parts.

That's why I'm so determined to finish reading through the Bible for the first time in my life this year. Because I don't just want to know those reassuring little verses I memorised in Sunday school - the ones everyone hangs on their walls or prints on souvenirs.

I want to understand the bigger story. I want to know the context. I don't want to interpret my own meaning without understanding the story's history, or blindly swallow secondhand reiterations and interpretations of it without knowing the Person who wrote it and understanding His heart.

Ruin is the road to transformation

The Beaver is a film about meaning, purpose, connection, losing your way, and finding it again - all themes that strike very close to my heart. It's a story about a family unravelling because the people in it are lost, confused, hopeless, and at the end of their rope - and how they reach a breaking point only to find that it is exactly what they need to rebuild.

After the movie I kept thinking about what the main character, Walter Black said:

"We reach a point where, in order to go on, we have to wipe the slate clean. We start to see ourselves as a box that we're trapped inside and no matter how we try and escape, self help, therapy, drugs, we just sink further and further down. The only way to truly break out of the box is to get rid of it all together... I mean, you built it in the first place. If the people around you are breaking your spirit, who needs them? Your wife who pretends to love you, your son who can't even stand you. I mean, put them out of their misery. Starting over isn't crazy. Crazy is being miserable and walking around half asleep, numb, day after day after day. Crazy is pretending to be happy. Pretending that the way things are is the way they have to be for the rest of your bleeding life." -Walter Black, The Beaver (2011)

And I couldn't help but be reminded about what two of my favourite writers had to say on this subject of ruin and rebuilding:

 “A friend took me to the most amazing place the other day. It’s called the Augusteum. Octavian Augustus built it to house his remains. When the barbarians came they trashed it a long with everything else. The great Augustus, Rome’s first true great emperor. How could he have imagined that Rome, the whole world as far as he was concerned, would be in ruins. It’s one of the quietest, loneliest places in Rome. The city has grown up around it over the centuries. It feels like a precious wound, a heartbreak you won’t let go of because it hurts too good. We all want things to stay the same. Settle for living in misery because we’re afraid of change, of things crumbling to ruins. Then I looked at around to this place, at the chaos it has endured – the way it has been adapted, burned, pillaged and found a way to build itself back up again. And I was reassured, maybe my life hasn’t been so chaotic, it’s just the world that is, and the real trap is getting attached to any of it. Ruin is a gift. Ruin is the road to transformation.” -Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat. Pray. Love

"Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” -C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

I think instinctively, we all want to settle for 'safe'. The idea of starting again and leaving behind everything we've worked for and built away is a scary, painful thought - it feels like losing a part of yourself - losing all the things that used to define you. But what if leaving the past behind and starting again is exactly what we need? What if it is when we feel like we're losing ourselves that we find who we truly are?

I need this reminder daily. I need to remind myself it's okay to change. It's okay to 're' - rebuild, restore, revamp, re-examine, revoke, retry. I'm not a finished product - I'm a work in progress. And like any work in progress, it's okay to throw everything out and start again. In fact, sometimes it's not just okay, it's essential if you want the finished product to be anything worthwhile.

Image: Some rights reserved by Fulla T

Lights

"And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years." -Genesis 1:14

These lights that God hung in the sky to mark 'sacred times' speak to me of His beautiful intricate design for one of our most precious gifts - time. Each moment that passes us by happens once, and is gone forever. Time is so valuable... but so often taken for granted.

This verse speaks to me of finding rhythm in our time. It speaks to me of the importance of distinguishing each season, day, and moment from another. There is a time and a season for everything and when we realise that, it is easier to face the hard days. And it becomes more important to celebrate the good ones.

Without rhythm in our time, life becomes a monotonous dull hum. All our days start to feel the same, and we get bored, lazy, and frustrated. When we learn to cherish and mark all our moments, we create rhythm in our time, a song with our lives.

2011 Thankfulness

Thought I'd just take some time to pause, rewind, and look back on some of the greatest blessings the past year has brought into my life (not in any particular order).

Amazing friendships - in particular the After-Alpha community

Conquering Mount Kinabalu, which has always been on my dream list

Naz and Mabel, who kept me sane through winter at the start of the year

The most annoying yet heart-meltingly adorable cat in the world

Finding my way back

Graduating with a Bachelor's Degree!

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." -James 1:17

Happy 2012

Even as a kid, the thought of 'tomorrow' always thrilled me with anticipation. I could hardly wait to get one thing over and done with so I could move on to the next thing. I was always impatient to grow up and experience all the glittering promise of the vast world out there.

I always had a plan for 'what's next'. At 15, I mapped out a Grand Plan for my life: finish school at 16, go to college at 17, finish a diploma by 19, give myself an extra year in between to allow for varying university intakes, graduate with a degree by 21, and start working full-time by 22. So far, I've pretty much stuck to my Plan.

And that's what scares me about the year ahead: I don't know what's next.

From where it is, my life looks like pretty smooth sailing for the next two years as I finish off the rest of my bond. Do I see myself staying on in this job? I don't know. What I've always wanted to do - write and bake full-time - do I see that realistically happening after these next few years? Can I make a living out of doing those things? I don't know.

So far, all my major milestones in life have come down more or less to my own determination to complete my education according to my targets. But the series of milestones that come after this - things like getting married, moving into my own home, children, and so on - are not solely within my control. There are many other people and factors involved that I cannot possibly impose my own timeline on (although I'd really like to).

As a perfectionistic, ambitious, and goal-oriented person, the idea that I don't know what's next freaks me out. I don't know what I'm supposed to be working towards and looking forward to in the next couple years ahead. It feels like I'm in this transition stage from child to adult and there's a lot I need to learn and figure out... but I'm not exactly sure what those things are, or how long this phase will last.

During some much-needed reflection time at the end of December, I realised that the one thing I can spend the next year or so working towards is simply to be more present. To live in the moment, instead of always rushing ahead.

I struggle so much with that. After reading something Lindsey Mead wrote, I realised that it's because living completely in the moment makes me feel vulnerable. It reminds me that the only thing that really matters is what I have, here and now, and what I choose to do with it. Nothing else is within my control. We know all of this like well-worn clichés, but it is only when we strip away distractions and focus completely on the present that the truth of it sinks in and hits home hard.

All my fears, worries, dreams, goals - all of these are meaningless when held up against the impermanence of every day. Do I want a life decorated with achievements I cannot hold on to or do I want to be remembered as someone who lived every moment to its fullest? I want the second, but it's scary. And sometimes, in the letting go of illusions of control, even painful. But I want it.

So for this year, I kept my resolutions simple. No lofty, long-term goals. More of reminders to take each day as it comes. To stay open to interruptions and surprises, while avoiding distractions.

To cultivate community with like-minded souls, because I've realised that I'm not the only one struggling through this season, struggling with figuring out what it means to grow up and be a responsible, consistent adult while at the same time, living a life of purpose and passion.

I mean, these were the kind of things I grew up hearing and talking about. At youth camps, church retreats, and slumber parties. We talked about the future and growing up and what it would look like... but when you're actually here everything looks very different from how you thought it would be.

But I'm still young enough to hope. A bit older, hopefully a bit wiser, a bit stronger. I may not know what's next but I think I can handle not knowing, with fingers crossed that any surprises will be good ones.

So here's to a New Year, to the messy uncertainty and beautiful spontaneity of life well-lived, to being open to surprises, and to living more in our moments.

I'll close with this wish for you:

“May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art - write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.” -Neil Gaiman

Image: Some rights reserved by lucias_clay