Who Understands?

I hate falling sick.

And I’m sure the devil loves it.

Mommy goes, “Tsk. Don’t come near me, la. I can’t afford to fall sick. I’m alone in the company for the next few days, you know. Go and sleep.“

Sigh.

Whatever happened to loving motherly hugs for an ill daughter?

Only the Father is ever faithful.

Spiritual Clothing

Are there days when you randomly feel so “UGH”? Like maybe you just think, “Nah. It’s only Monday blues. I’ll get over it. Get busy.” So you do what you’re supposed to do – crash deadlines. Get stuff done. Make sure the things on your plate are all washed up.

Early this morning, I woke up feeling like… Bleh. This is not good. Flu. Flu virus. It’s here. IT’S HERE! Dang. That’s bad. I feel rotten. No, this can’t be. Oh, wait. I have a 2-hour tutorial today only. The other is cancelled. Okay, okay. Stay in bed. Sneeze. Sneeze some more. Stop sneezing. STOP SNEEZING! Snif. Blow. Snif. ARGH!

So I decided to play some sermons. Play more. Sermons. Keep playing. Pastor Judah Smith. Come. Ram me over. Hit me with healing messages. Come on, make me feel better again. Because I feel like crap.

And then I realise this is all about spiritual warfare.

When I heard my third sermon of the day, it was Joyce Meyer’s message she preached some time last year titled “Stay Awake and Keep Your Clothes On”. A sermon on spiritual warfare. In Revelations 6. She talked about spiritual clothes – about putting on your robe of righteousness.

Stop being a robot prone to the devil’s lies. I have the tendency of arguing with myself in the morning and lament, “What about me? What am I going to do today? Who’s ass am I going to cover up for this time? What about me! Who’s gonna cover my ass before mine gets kicked!? What about me?! When will I ever stop covering people’s asses. Sigh.”

I’m going through some stuff that I’ll like to call: Cutting. Some of you may know, some are totally clueless. But I made a personal pact with God to mold and change me in one year. One year is short. And so much could happen. So it came to me: DO NOT, EVER, ever, take your life as a wager for a gamble with God. Because when you say “God, I give my life to You”, He’s not taking you for a joke – HE IS SERIOUS, even when you say it halfheartedly.

So now that I go through hard times, it’s funny how I get closer to God than when I get through the good times. God. You sure are good at such stuff, huh?

Thanks for still loving me.

His Little Missus

“Are you learning me by heart, little Sara?” he said, stroking her hair.

“No,” she answered. “I know you by heart. You are inside my heart.” And they put their arms round each other and kissed as if they would never let each other go.

How much am I loved?

Very, very much. More than I can even tell you.

“I was thinking,” she answered grandly and politely, “that you did not know what you were doing.”

“That I did not know what I was doing?” Miss Minchin fairly gasped.

“Yes,” said Sara, “and I was thinking what would happen if I were a princess and you boxed my ears–what I should do to you. And I was thinking that if I were one, you would never dare to do it, whatever I said or did. And I was thinking how surprised and frightened you would be if you suddenly found out–”

“What?” she exclaimed. “Found out what?”

“That I really was a princess,” said Sara, “and could do anything–anything I liked.”

- Excerpt from “A Little Princess” by Frances Hodgson Burnett

And I am, really, a Princess at heart.