The Sunday right after my birthday which fell on the 17th of September. I guess I was still feeling the giddy experience of that night. Alcohol does weird things, and I learned that the hard way. I still cringe today looking back at the events of that night.
Back to the Sunday. It was the 20th of September. I remember it well because it was Wei Loon’s birthday. Unfortunately for him this date will be remembered for something else together with the fact that it’s his birthday.
Lately I had come to realize that my spiritual life had come to what I will simply refer to as a drought (that term serves its purpose well) . Ps Sally was preaching that Sunday, I think. Who said it isn’t as important as the message, which was about, you guessed it, storms. This is where the irony kicks in, because this was a very similar topic to the one I heard the first time I set foot in what was then known as Richmond AOG. That was during the tough period I was going through from having failed 2 subjects the previous semester.
Back to storms. I didn’t take any notes that day because, as I mentioned earlier, I was going through a dry spell in my walk with God, which is something I regret. The message I remember, which was the one I heard from Ps David during my first Saturday in Richmond, revolved around the story in the Bible about Jesus and his disciples crossing a lake when a storm began while Jesus was asleep. Jesus was awakened by his frightened disciples and calmed the storm. Read Mark 4:35-40 for more on the story. The reason I went on to stay at Richmond was because of how much that message helped me throughout my emotional crisis at the time. It was no coincidence that I walked in that day.
Our Christian lives are not filled with clear skies and sunny days all year round. There will be storms that we will have to go through, some small, some immense. Some so terrible that we tend to give up hope. While my little academic problem won’t seem like much to others, it did to me. Not because my record was permanently marred, but because of how much I had disappointed the people I loved. For the first time in my life I saw my father cry because of me. Because I was too afraid to move forward, and because I had left the comfort of my home to be alone once again in a foreign country that at the time I refused to call home. Because he was afraid for me. I blamed myself for what my family went through during that dark period. It was a tough time for my family in general for other reasons I choose not to divulge.
That was when I decided that only God could pull me out of this mess. That was when I remembered what my sister had told me about a church her friends had gone to while in Melbourne that was great.
I actually googled the church just to find out where it was and how I could get there. I’m still proud of the fact that I took that first step even though I knew no one from that church and didn’t even know where it was. So I went one Saturday evening and heard a story about storms. I was told that Christians will go through stormy periods, not because God wants us to suffer, but so that we can grow. Grow as a person, but more importantly to grow more in God. I recognized my storm, and I persevered.
Almost a year later, things settled down. I passed my exams, my family was doing well, the problems we were facing got resolved. Another important lesson: sometimes the healing isn’t immediate, but the darkness eventually gives way to dawn.
However, I had lost my fire for God despite all He had done for me. I barely prayed, my Bible literally became dusty, and I went to church, treating it like an entry in a checklist. Church: check. Cell: check. Ignite: blank. Two out of three is good enough, right (There’s a lot more to that list, really) ? Things had gotten stagnant, and I didn’t like it.
That Sunday on the 20th of September 2009, after hearing about storms again, I prayed to God that He do something about the way I was living my life, that He would come back into it and to lead me into my next step, into another storm so that I could experience something new, so that I could grow out of my comfort zone.
I may not have mentioned it, but this year was the first year where I did not go home to Malaysia during my month-long semester break in July. Meaning that until that Sunday, I had been away from home for close to 7 months. Things were great, I adapted a lot faster than usual to being away from my family, and I was doing well in uni. My parents were supposed to come visit me during that month-long break, but because of the swine flu fiasco, they couldn’t make it and had to postpone their flight at the last minute to my mid semester holidays. They arrived in Melbourne at about 1a.m. on the 20th of September. I actually went to see them just before I went to church.
This might be relevant or not, but I’ll put it in here. Apparently, someone had been spreading rumours about my academic results for the first semester of ‘09. My parents caught wind of the news that I had failed some subjects and  had blatantly lied to their faces about it. Needless to say, they were upset. Fortunately, they weren’t upset with me, because they had chosen to trust me. Also, needless to say, I was furious. I showed my parents my results slip on the spot (iPhone magic for you right there) and they were relieved. This piece of news bothered me because I didn’t know there were people who would spread such rumours about me, and it made me feel rather miffed.
Back to my story. My parents were in Melbourne, so I was quite glad. It wasn’t a particularly tearful reunion, since my parents had flown in with some emotional baggage which I’m happy to say I managed to relieve them of soon enough. So we spent the day together with my cousin Ching Jin and his fiance Chang Chang. We had lunch, we went to St Kilda Beach, drove around to Docklands to show my dad the area. It was a good day, and I was quite happy to spend it with them after having not seen them in person for so long. That night we went out for dinner, and we called out the cousins I’m currently living with to join us, and we also managed to drag Ching Wei out of the house, who came willingly only after we told him his brother would drive him home later. It was a good dinner, I think. Crabs, beef, duck, etc. I enjoyed it.
More background info: my grandmother (dad’s side) had recently suffered a stroke and was bedridden. I wasn’t really aware of how bad her condition was at the time, but I do know it was pretty serious.
Why was this relevant?
Just as we were about to call it a night, as we were getting ready to pay the bill, my dad got a phone call. My grandmother passed away.
I will honestly say this: I’m not particularly close to my grandmother. A sentiment that is shared by many people the world over. But I do know the finality of death, and the fact that she was gone came as a shock. While I managed to recover embarrassingly fast, my cousins didn’t. These were the ones I was living with: Corrinne, Jo Ann and Mary. The table was silent for awhile, and then phone calls were made. This was when I realized: less than 24 hours since they arrived, my parents were leaving me.
It will sound heartless to many, but I’ll remain honest here. I was more distraught over parting with my parents than I was at the death of my grandmother. That’s just me, but as I hope some of you know, I really do love my family unit. My parents, my sisters, their husbands, their children, they are all people I care for deeply and only second to God Himself. I thought I was used to living away from home, but at the end of the day I realized just how much of me is bound to my home and my family. After spending less than 24 hours with my parents I could not bear the thought of them leaving me again. It was sad and frightening that I would in some way be left alone again. I felt weak.
I was giddy, no longer from my birthday euphoria but from the whirlpool of events happening around me. I tried to be sad over the loss of my grandmother, but that came second to the pain I felt as I watched my father make the phone call to the airlines while my mother starting packing. I chose to stay with them for the night, to try and postpone the farewell which would have to come. I couldn’t really take watching them get ready to leave, so I told them that I was heading out to get some air.
I tried calling my sister but she didn’t pick up. I assumed she was heading for my uncle’s house to do whatever is done when something like this happens. I really needed her at the time, but I chose to try calling someone else instead. I managed to get through to someone who just happened to be around the corner having what I assume was dinner, but I’m wont to assume you can have a proper meal at a Bubble Tea outlet. He agreed to meet up, so I basically barged in on his dinner and managed to get some alone time with him.
Stuff happened. I talked, he listened. Eventually the waterworks started, but it lasted only a short time. What was it I was thinking earlier that day? Oh yeah. I want another storm.
Irony is a cruel bitch. But that was a lie I told myself to ease the pain. This wasn’t coincidence, and I realized it soon enough. 10 months prior I chose to stop getting overwhelmed by reality, but there I was, upset over my parents flying home. I chose to deal with it as a man. Hell, I just turned 21 three days before that. Reality hits like a blunt object, a lesson I should remember is to clench my teeth next time. I clenched my teeth then, too. I picked myself up and decided I won’t be defeated by this. If Jesus can calm the storms, this is nothing to Him. I found a weakness that I needed to work on, and I made another decision to move forward. I trusted in God. I trust in Him.
My trust was rightly placed. He helped me get through the pain. It wasn’t particularly easy, but healing came with time. I started reading the Bible again, did my devotion properly. I committed myself to God, and I have come to realize that through that hardship, I was given the golden opportunity to get closer to my Maker. Was it worth the pain I endured? You bet.
Most of my closest friends are atheists. However, rather than choose to surround myself with only Christian friends, I choose to believe that God has placed me among you to share with you of His greatness, His glory, His love. Being a believer was partly my choice, but at the same time how can I not fall in love with a God as wonderful as this?
P.S. For closure, I want to tell of what my friend and I did that night as I was dealing with my losses. We spent close to 2 hours walking around the city, talking about everything. I shared about myself, of my views and my family and friends. Of my experiences. We spoke about God. We spoke about relationships. My eyes were opened that night to certain things involved in that particular field. Call them complications, the word doesn’t do it justice. I thought about my own relationships, and how much more there was to it than I had realized before that. We talked about love. Waaaaaaaaaay over my head. I took notes though. Another lesson from that night is how much sacrifice plays into love. Not just love for your significant other, but for friends and family. How much do I love you? I love you more than you can imagine. All of you. I won’t lie and say it’s equal, it’s not really like that. But I love you and there’s nothing you can do about it. How much does God love you? I don’t need to tell you the answer because it’s too damn obvious.