Water: The promise of hope and renewal

I was watching Yann Arthus-Bertrand's documentary, "Home" last Sunday with the fiancé (I have to get used to not saying boyfriend!) and was particularly moved by the part of the film which talked about the earth's water cycle.

"The Earth's water cycle is a process of constant renewal.

Waterfalls, water vapor, clouds, rain, springs, rivers, seas, oceans, glaciers... The cycle is never broken.

There's always the same quantity of water on Earth.

All the successive species on Earth have drunk the same water.

The astonishing matter that is water.

One of the most unstable of all.

It takes a liquid form as running water, gaseous as vapor, or solid as ice.

In Siberia, the frozen surfaces of the lakes in winter contain the trace of the forces that water deploys when it freezes.

Lighter than water, the ice floats.

It forms a protective mantle against the cold, under which life can go on.

The engine of life is linkage.

Everything is linked.

Nothing is self-sufficient.

Water and air are inseparable, united in life and for our life on Earth.

Sharing is everything.

Our Earth relies on a balance, in which every being has a role to play and exists only through the existence of another being.

A subtle, fragile harmony that is easily shattered."

As Malaysia faces an onslaught of drought coupled with haze due to forest fires, and having gone two weeks without water at home, I was struck by how much we take this simple privilege of running water for granted. In the past week, my eczema and sinuses have flared up all over again, leaving me desperate for rain to come again soon. The word "drought" seems far too primitive for a modernised, connected city like Kuala Lumpur - and yet if I pause long enough from my high-speed urban lifestyle it hits me that the lack of water is in fact an everyday reality for so many other countries. In fact, those who have less of it probably know how to value it more and use it more efficiently.

For me, lack of water is an inconvenience - maybe even a pain. For others, it's a matter of life an death. Almost 770 million people around the world do not have safe, clean water to drink. 2.5 billion people don’t have access to a proper toilet. And every day, 1,400 children die from diseases directly linked to unsafe water or a lack of basic sanitation facilities.

The news that this water rationing will continue for another whole month and that our dams are just slightly above 40% water levels (below 40% is considered critical) almost seem straight out of a novel or a newspaper archive. With choices and conveniences just a click away, it seems so out of place that our modern, high-tech society can be brought to a halt by the absence of something so simple and often overlooked as water.

But nature humbles us in that way. Be it snowstorms, thunderstorms, sandstorms, tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes, typhoons, hail, drought, famine, epidemics - nature puts us in our place and reminds us where we stand in the grand scheme of things. It shows us that our self-centered perspectives of the world are merely illusions and we are so, so fragile. So connected to the earth in billions of intricate ways, most of which we have only the faintest idea of. And when we don't care for the environment around us like we should, we pay the price.

Forest fires are not natural. Vanishing rainforests are not natural. Rivers that stop flowing into the sea are not natural. Depleting mineral and precious metal reserves are not natural. They are the result of greed, self-centredness and arrogance, each generation before thinking they were the center of the universe, that resources were unlimited, without ever stopping to think there might not be any left for the generations to come. It breaks my heart to think about all the diverse species of flora and fauna that have been wiped off the face of the earth completely - whichever theory you subscribe to, either species that were so painstakingly and artfully crafted by a master craftsman, or species that fought long and hard to change, grow, adapt and survive in order to become what they were.

Sometimes I wonder how we can undo the damage we've done. What can a few hippie tree huggers with a bunch of signed petitions and slogans do to change the way businesses operate for economic profit or to change the tide of endless consumerism, the quest for more and more material wealth? Thinking about it all makes one feel very, very small in the scale of things.

But water teaches me the important lesson that life is a cycle of renewal. And renewal simply means restoring things back to their original, untainted state. With every sunrise, new season and every rainfall, comes the promise and hope of final, and ultimate renewal. A day when all the damage we've wreaked on the world will be erased once and for all, and we will see life as it always should have been from the start. In seasons like this, my soul aches and longs for that day to come. 

"May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears"

The week Alex that told me he had asked my parents blessing to marry me - was the week I flipped out and considered calling the relationship quits. In fact, I asked for a one-week break from all forms of communication so I could think things through without distraction. Call it cold feet, commitment phobia or whatever you may, that week was one of the main turning points of the relationship... the point at which I knew in my heart that I had made a decision and there was no turning back.

This was in January... and fast forward two months later, when he finally proposed last weekend, my "Yes" seemed like the most natural thing in the world to say. Because I'd already taken a long, hard look at whether this relationship was something I could see myself devoting myself to for the rest of my life.

I've always wondered how it felt like to 'just know' that you're ready to spend the rest of your life with one person. I'd never ever felt that way in any of my previous relationships. There was always something that didn't quite fit, that didn't add up. In my logical, pragmatic mind the best thing, when in doubt, was always to let go and move on. Preserving my freedom was important to me, and the whole notion of 'settling down' didn't quite sit well with my perspective that a relationship should be an adventure that opens you up to more of life's possibilities, instead of narrowing your options down.

Yet there were many times I wondered if I would end up on the shelf after everyone had 'settled down'. So, afraid of being alone, I settled time and again for guys who were not too bad. Who treated me nice and were generally good people. But they didn't share the same values and dreams I had or the same thirst for independence and adventure, and it just wasn't enough.

I often wondered if I had the most unreasonable demands. I felt guilty in every relationship I got into, fearing that I would somehow never be able to match up to the other person's expectations of what an Asian girlfriend should be like. I was often told that I 'intimidate' guys, because I liked being alone too much, had way too many opinions about everything, loved adventure, hated routine or repetition, and was incredibly self-motivated and driven to make something meaningful of my life, even if it meant leaving other people behind if they didn't share the same ambitions.

But I knew I wanted a man, not a boy. Someone whom I didn't have to hide my true colors from. Who was comfortable enough in his own skin and confident enough in his own ability to handle me for who I am - headstrong, stubborn, opinionated, independent and all.

So I decided to stop dating just because I was afraid of ending up alone and unwanted. In fact, I decided to stop doing anything just because I was afraid. I wanted to stop being motivated by fear, but by hope instead. After being disappointed and having my heart broken so many times, I desperately wanted to believe that there were better days ahead. I knew that change began with me, and with not being afraid to hope for what I really wanted.

I have never been the most optimistic person. Being highly pragmatic, I've always tended to be critical, pessimistic and judgmental. I could be a master in the art of imagining worst-case scenarios. But I decided to stop using my personality as an excuse.

I chose to believe that life is what we make of it. If we choose to be positive, no matter how bad things are, we will always find a silver lining. If I choose to live in a way that is big-hearted, generous, adventurous, and on occasion, all-out crazy, then I will attract someone just like that to do life with.

Maybe it is unreasonable to expect so much out of life. Do I really deserve it anyway? Maybe not, if I chose to think that way. But I believe that we attract - and accept - the love we think we deserve. If we value ourselves, we will find ourselves surrounded by people who value us. I wanted to believe that I was worth the kind of love I hoped for.

Nelson Mandela once said, "May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears." That was the perspective I held on to as I stepped away from years of unhealthy mindsets, wrong assumptions, warped perspectives towards relationships and bitterness from the past.

And as I did, I stopped being so afraid. I stopped being afraid of 'settling', or on the other end of the scale, of 'being alone' because I was too afraid to settle. I stayed open to hope. It took many tears and many nights of soul-searching, but I had to let go of stupid fears like the fear of not reaching my target of being married by 24. Like the fear that it would just be a matter of time before I start feeling suffocated again like in all my other relationships. Like the fear that if Alex really knew me for who I am, he would think twice about wanting me. Or the fear that memories and hurts from our past relationships would be carried into our current relationship.

I was gripped by fears like these when I called for the break. We had been having several heated arguments in the weeks leading up to the break, and there were times it felt like we were on completely different wavelengths. Out of fear, I retreated back into my safety zone and distanced myself emotionally, distracting myself with work. At that point in time, work seemed genuinely more rewarding than the relationship. It made no demands, asked no questions, had no expectations. It gave me results in return for effort. So simple, uncomplicated, fuss-free. So unlike relationships.

And there I discovered my biggest fear - not that he wasn't right or the relationship wasn't right - but that I wasn't right. I wasn't ready to lay down my life to submit to another person, I wasn't willing to give up my rights and my independence. I wasn't good at dealing with my own emotions - how could I possibly be able to deal with another person's heart?

So I told him I needed some time out to think the relationship through, expecting a backlash and a questioning of whether my heart was really in this relationship. I expected him to fight, to cling on and try to persuade me to talk things out instead of just disappearing for a week, to start thinking and fearing the worst. If he did, I would be able to use that as the basis for why we would never work out anyway. But he didn't.

He said, okay, go ahead. And I began to sense that finally, here was a man in tune with my heart, who knew I needed some time to sort things out. Who was not afraid of losing me if it was for the better, who held me as loosely as he held everything else in his life - as gifts loaned from God for a little while, to be cherished, but not owned. Who knew that as much as he wanted to fix things, he wasn't the right person for the job.

In that one week, I went to the One and only person who could do that job. I poured my fears out to Him - that I was not good enough, that I had commitment issues, that I didn't deserve to be loved. And as I listened to myself, all I heard was 'I', 'I', 'I'. He gently began to remind me, that the cure to all my fears was to fix my eyes not on myself, but on hope. Hope for brighter tomorrows and for grace to guide us through every disagreement. Hope that we will not only survive the tough days, but that those days will draw us even closer together. And hope that the reason we are in this together is because the potential for what we can do together is greater compared to what we can do alone.

By the end of the week, the fears stopped mattering so much. I saw enough hope in the relationship to know I want to give everything I have to make it work. I know I'll have to keep working at it, keep seeing enough hope in it, keep letting go of the fear, but for now, my "Yes" is a start. A start of saying yes to learning to be less selfish, discovering I can still be myself and go on adventures even when there's someone beside me (it's actually more fun!), and learning that where there's faith, hope and love, there's no room for fear. 

anticipation

it's that feeling that something big is just around the corner. you can't see it, you don't know what exactly is coming or what it will involve, but you feel it in the air and you feel it in your bones. something exciting is about to happen.

human beings live on anticipation. being able to look forward to better days ahead is what keeps us alive. we plow through the dreary days and hang in through the storms in hopes that the sun will shine again.

and it does. after cold, dark winter nights, the sun shines through again. new life springs forth again. what was dead and buried is birthed anew all over again. time and time again.

it's almost as if the waiting is there to enlarge our expectation. almost as if the dying is necessary to make room for something else to be birthed.

this is why today, all over the world, we celebrate the waiting. advent. we celebrate the coming of Jesus, hope of the world, who came to die that we may live.

that we may look forward, with anticipation, to a new year ahead. a fresh start. another chance to start over. to believe that better days are ahead. and to do our part in working to make that happen. to live better, and to love better.

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come." // Anne Lamott

advent: a season of joyful anticipation and the in-betweens

the word 'advent', used to describe the period of time leading up to christmas that is celebrated by those who believe, comes from the latin word meaning 'coming'. it describes a season for slowing down, reflecting, and most of all, anticipating fresh hope and grace for the season that lies ahead.

advent is all about anticipation and longing. we know there is something missing, that our souls are incomplete - but rather than longing for it in despair, our longing is joyful, rooted firmly in the hope that the missing piece has come and is coming afresh in our hearts all over again as we move towards a new year.

just like a pregnant mother anticipating the birth of her child, advent is a season of longing for a birth of something new, and something fresh. advent is a time that celebrates the anticipation, the in-between moments - between the time a trapeze artist jumps and the time he catches the next handle, between the time a seed is planted and the time it sends shoots above the ground, between the time a child is formed in the womb and the time it is born - advent is all about the in-betweens. the in-between the 'has been's and the 'not yet's. those delicate, tender moments of holding your breath because you're not quite sure what will happen next, and because at this fragile stage, anything could happen. but you keep hoping for the best, sensing that something beautiful is going to unfold up ahead.

so it is in this season that we who believe take the time to deliberately pull back in the midst of our busyness and all the festivity, to slow down and take a moment to take stock of the 'has been's - the milestones that have marked our past year, and the milestones that have marked our lives so far. we acknowledge the victories, but also the defeats, knowing that it is the sum of all of them that has shaped us for what lies ahead.

and we look forward. oh, we look forward to better things ahead than any we are leaving behind! we can only look forward, fearlessly and hopefully, when we have looked back enough and fully confronted everything in our past. advent is a chance to come clean and face the past before being thrust into the unknown future - a future that is safe, that we can look forward to even if we don't know what it holds, because we know that the One who holds it. and we know that He is good, and faithful, and gracious, and merciful, and kind, and most of all, loving.

advent is a season where we remember an age-old story, of Love coming down to earth, to make Himself relatable so we could understand what love is really all about. so we could live in relationships that give instead of taking away, that heal instead of hurting. as mother theresa, who lived among the poorest of the poor, put it - the greatest poverty is not being hungry, naked, or homeless. the greatest poverty is the poverty of being unloved, unwanted, uncared for. this poverty is not limited to what race, religion, country, or economic group you are from - it's everywhere.

imagine how different this world would look if every single person in it genuinely believed they were loved, cherished, special! that's what christmas, to me, is all about. it's about the most powerful, incomprehensible Being in the universe making himself small and tiny to show us that even in our humble, fragile states, we are valued, treasured, loved. christmas is not about a day - it's about a lifestyle of living in remembrance of that Great Story. and advent is a chance to revisit that story, to give thanks for another year of living and loving, and to look forward... to a fresh chapter, and to learning to love a little bit better.

***

this season's advent reading: 'searching for God knows what' by donald miller; 'the shack' by w paul young. here are some of my favourite quotes:

searching for God knows what (donald miller):

“Imagine how a man’s life would be if he trusted that he was loved by God. How he could interact with the poor and not show partiality, he could love his wife easily and not expect her to redeem him, he would be slow to anger because redemption was no longer at stake, he could be wise and giving with his money because money no longer represented points, he could give up on formulaic religion, knowing that checking stuff off a spiritual to-do list was a worthless pursuit, he would have confidence and the ability to laugh at himself, and he could love people without expecting anything in return. It would be quite beautiful, really.”

"I wondered how beautiful it is that you and I were created to need each other. In this way, we are made in God’s image. Certainly God does not need people in the way you and I do, but He feels a joy at being loved, and He feels a joy at delivering love. The Bible, with all its understanding of the relational needs of humans, was becoming more meaningful to me as I turned the pages. God made me, He knows me, He understands me, and He wants community.”

“The truth is there are a million steps, and we don't even know what the steps are, and worse, at any given moment we may not be willing or even able to take them; and still worse, they are different for you and me and they are always changing. I have come to believe the sooner we find this truth beautiful the sooner we will fall in love with the God who keeps shaking things up, keeps changing the path, keeps rocking the boat to test our faith in Him, teaching us to not rely on easy answers, bullet points, magic mantras, or genies in lamps, but rather in His guidance, His existence, His mercy, and His love.”

the shack (w paul young):

“Forgiveness is not about forgetting. It is about letting go of another person's throat. Forgiveness in no way requires that you trust the one you forgive. You may have to declare your forgiveness a hundred times the first day and the second day, but the third day will be less and each day after, until one day you will realize that you have forgiven completely. And then you will pray for his wholeness.”

“Don't ever discount the wonder of your tears. They can be healing waters and a stream of joy. Sometimes they are the best words the heart can speak.”

“Trust is the fruit of a relationship in which you know you are loved.”

“I suppose that since most of our hurts come through relationships so will our healing, and I know that grace rarely makes sense for those looking in from the outside.”

“...if anything matters then everything matters. Because you are important, everything you do is important. Every time you forgive, the universe changes; every time you reach out and touch a heart or a life, the world changes."

“If you and I are friends, there is an expectancy that exists within our relationship. When we see each other or are apart, there is an expectancy of being together, of laughing and talking. The expectancy has no concrete definition; it is alive and dynamic and everything that emerges from our being together is a unique gift shared by no one else.”

“Submission is not about authority and it is not obedience; it is all about relationships of love and respect.”

“All I want from you is to trust me with what little you can, and grow in loving people around you with the same love I share with you. It's not your job to change them, or to convince them. You are free to love without an agenda.”

"Grace doesn't depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors.”

"Does that mean," asked Mack, "that all roads will lead to you?" Not at all," smiled Jesus as he reached for the door handle to the shop. "Most roads don't lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you.”

***

“There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved: It is God's finger on man's shoulder.” // Charles Morgan

To Be of Use

Some days I just want to cry with exhaustion at the sheer amount of things to do in one day - as much as I love doing every single one of them. Some days I am spent, cranky, and drained, body and mind.

And some days, I read something like this...

and it lifts my spirits,
fires me up,
and realigns my focus.

I am so thankful to be surrounded by such people this poem describes.

To be of use

The people I love the best
jump into work head first 
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience, 
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge 
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm 
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud. 
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust. 

But the thing worth doing well done 
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

-Marge Piercy

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

Adventurously expectant

Last week at After-Alpha we watched a video about the Bible's relevance in our lives today. Nicky Gumbel, the speaker, told a story of this young woman (journalist if I recall correctly?) who was reading a novel by a certain author and hated it. One day at a party, she met a young man who charmed her socks off. To her surprise, she discovered he was the author of the novel she disliked. That night she went home and reread the entire novel, seeing each line and paragraph in a new light, after having encountered the person who wrote it.

That pretty much sums up the way I read the Bible these days.

I think my life has done a 180 turn since returning from the UK - back in July I was pretty much lost, not sure what I wanted to do with my life, and holding on to quite a bit of the past and fears about the future. I think that's changed since... for the better.

And I'm so thankful. So thankful for the past five months. So thankful for the lessons it's taught me. So thankful for the emptiness, the lostness... that brought me here. So thankful that I'm in a place where I wake up every day and can say that I love the life I live. So thankful I'm learning to let go of my uncertainly of the future and my near-sighted plans... and embrace whatever's next.

So thankful that these days, when I flip through the pages of this precious Book, every word speaks LIFE into my soul.

"This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?" God's Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what's coming to us—an unbelievable inheritance! We go through exactly what Christ goes through. If we go through the hard times with him, then we're certainly going to go through the good times with him!" 

-Romans 8:15-17

Dare you to move

It's been awhile since I wrote a raw, honest blog post. A friend said that it reflected the fact that I was growing up. And while I do believe self-censorship is a mark of maturity, and not all deeply personal thoughts are appropriate for public spaces, I think it's good once in awhile to carve time and space to be real.

We all need the reminder once in awhile that we're all human, we all struggle, we all make mistakes - and the best part is, we don't have to go through it all alone.

While I had an amazing time learning and experiencing a lot of new things in the UK, I returned from Malaysia a lot more guarded, and more used to being alone than before I left. It was hard to adjust back to having such a huge network of friends all over again, and to be a part of and identify with their lives (which had changed since I left) after experiencing such a different life for a year (I had changed since I left, too).

It took some time, but the more I discovered spaces where other people were honest and real, the more I felt it was okay to be honest and real. It's an ongoing process because starting a new job, being a part of so many new social circles, and adjusting to change in general, doesn't come easy. It's tempting to blend in and play down the unique strengths and personality traits and odd quirks that make me me.

I'm thankful that every time I feel totally insignificant and like I have nothing worthwhile to offer, a little burst of encouragement comes my way - in the form of a little note, some good one-to-one time with a friend over coffee, or a book. Or, like yesterday, Jayesslee - two gorgeous girls who on the outside, seem to 'have it all' - putting aside appearances and being totally vulnerable.

I struggled to hold back tears as they shared their story of losing their mother to cancer at such a young age and how they struggled with understanding a God who would take their mother from them. How they eventually came to find peace in Him, inspired by their mother, who became "happier and happier" the closer she got to eternity. And how in her final moments, with her last breaths, their mother lay in the hospital bed praising her Maker before she returned to Him. I cried because I knew if I had been in their shoes, I'd have broken down, over and over again.

I struggled to hold back tears as I think about the lyrics of Switchfoot's "Dare You to Move" that they covered - a song that has carried me through countless times I felt like giving up on hope. As they sang "Everybody's watching you now", I saw my teenage years flash past me. I saw this scared, would-do-anything-so-nobody-notices-me, insecure, and painfully shy girl that I used to be, who defined herself by the assumptions and judgements and perceptions people had about her.

As they sang "Welcome to the fallout / welcome to resistance / the tension is here ... between who you are and who you could be / between how it is and how it should be", I saw that scared girl find hope and strength in Someone who loved her in ways beyond what she dreamed of - but struggling and stumbling to believe such love could be for her. Who saw at the same time, a hundred reasons to believe in all she could be, but a hundred things that limited her from becoming that. And growing up constantly battling between those two sides.

As they sang "Dare you to move / like today never happened", I saw an older, more cynical, but not necessarily wiser girl stumble her way through college and university, making mistakes she wondered if she would ever heal from in the process. And the fear and weight of wondering if "today" had robbed her of the future.

Finally, as they sang "Maybe redemption has stories to tell / maybe forgiveness is right where you fell" I saw who I am today. Far from perfect, still broken, still making mistakes - but getting there, healing, and trying again. Someone learning to define herself more by what He says about me than what others think about me. Who finds more reasons to be brave than scared these days. Who carries scars from the past but wears them as medals of having healed well. Who still fights battles, every single day, but for whom giving up is no longer an option. Who lives a vast, beautiful, colourful, hope-filled life, painted with eternity.

When asked what was one piece of advice they wished to give to young people out there, the twins said it would be to live each day as if it were your last. So simple, so cliched - but for me, it was a precious reminder. I don't think we can have enough reminders every day - heck, even every hour to be reminded of the frailty of life.

Life is short. It's too short to waste dwelling on your fears and insecurities. We all have them. Life is too short to sit back and do nothing about your dreams. Life is too short to feel your heart moved in compassion for whatever unique cause you are compelled to (my heart has never been for evangelism in the slightest bit but show me an abandoned puppy or a starving child and my heart breaks into a million pieces) to not do anything to help change things. We cannot do everything, but as someone I look up to greatly, Mother Theresa, said: "We can do small things with great love."

Finally, life is to short to not love. Without love, life is nothing. Love your family. Love your friends. Love what you do. Love the situations and even the challenges you're placed in. Love who you are. Love the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with, even if you haven't met him or her yet. Love, as in the verb, not the emotion.

I'll end with something I read this morning that really challenged me to get out there and live and love to the fullest:

I will do more than belong - I will participate.
I will do more than care - I will help.
I will do more than believe - I will practice.
I will do more than be fair - I will be kind.
I will do more than forgive - I will forget.
I will do more than dream - I will work.
I will do more than teach - I will inspire.
I will do more than earn - I will enrich.
I will do more than give - I will serve.
I will do more than live - I will grow.
I will do more than suffer - I will triumph.
-William Arthur Ward

May you be challenged to do the same.

Un petit peu tous les jours (A little every day)

One of my favourite-est teachers in the world (Dawn, who taught me shorthand, an optional class I kept attending even though I didn't have to simply because working under her was so motivating) always said this phrase: "A little every day."

She told us the only way to get good at shorthand was to keep practicing, even if we didn't see immediate results, even if it got discouraging - a little every day. Her advice, which I cherish much, has proved to be effective.

My list of daily little things:

• French: I've been practicing my French - and I am finding that the less obsessed I am with getting things 'perfect', the more I actually absorb - even if it is not complètement (completely) perfect. 
• Beachbody Insanity Workouts: This reminds me of the time I joined Bootcamp - it's grueling stuff! I cheat, though, and split my workouts into half - I do the first twenty minutes of a video one day, and the next twenty minutes the next day. But mind you, it is a pretty freaking intense twenty minutes! But the satisfaction of "powering through", in the words of Shaun T, is pretty darn satisfying.
• Savoring my food: Food and drink keeps me sane. A good meal, a satisfying cup of coffee / tea - these are the highlights of my day when I feel I'm losing a grip on sanity.
• Writing: I want to write a book - but starting is always the hardest part. Right now, I'm just trying to get myself to write something - anything - because starting will get me on my way to that book. 

But I've realized that the most important thing to practice a little of every day is cultivating gratitude for and finding pleasure in today. At this point in my life, the future is a big question mark, and sometimes that question mark is so big it overwhelms and scares me. Sometimes I look at my country and my life and the people around me and I wonder where this is all going, where I will end up... if I even have a future to look forward to.

Sometimes memories from my past come back to me and they seem so friggin perfect that I wonder if my life could ever be that beautiful again... and that thought scares me too - the thought that it can't get any better than it already has.

I cannot do anything about these fears, and I cannot control the future. The only thing I can do is not allow these fears to steal the only thing I do have control over - today.

Today I take much heart in this quote:

"There are times when it is hard to believe in the future, when we are temporarily just not brave enough. When this happens, concentrate on the present. Cultivate le petit bonheur (the little happiness) until courage returns. Look forward to the beauty of the next moment, the next hour, the promise of a good meal, sleep, a book, a movie, the likelihood that tonight the stars will shine and tomorrow the sun will shine. Sink roots into the present until the strength grows to think about tomorrow." ~Ardis Whitman