Goodbye 12, Goodbye 13, Hello Love.

Nothing much has changed since I've hit the big 2-1. In fact part of me feels more self-conscious, more gawky and more immature than ever.

My room is a testament to that. Some things never change. It gets from immaculately spotless to a deadly warzone in a matter of hours. I don't even know how I survive my own health hazard.

My tummy starts turning on itself after the slightest amount of alcohol. Something is seriously wrong there. Maybe the only thing pointing towards signs of aging. Shock. Horror.

Funny thing, after having had a long, endearing and rather silly conversation with my younger teenage cousin on the do's and dont's of good conversation and social skills, I realise that I wasn't in much of a position to do so myself.

As my favourite musical puts it perfectly, its that time in your life when you're...

too young to take over
too old to ignore.
goodbye 12, goodbye 13, hello love.

Only thing, I'm supposed to be way past adolesence.

The Best Birthday Present Ever!

Someone texted me reminding me that having reached a grand age of 21, I was my own girl now. Hmm. I would want to remain a kid forever, but even better than that, I am, was, and forever will be a Child of God. Which is the better than being just a kid, even if it means I have to one day relinquish my smelly little baby pillow.

I've always been one for surprises and huge celebrations, though I've always dreaded the social awkwardness that comes along with it. And for the most part of my life growing up I've always wished for a bigger and better and more exciting birthday. My wish was always to have someone come in a surprise me with a huge and elaborate celebration.

However I've learned that even with all that, my life can still feel empty and unfulfilled.

I was commenting that one of the worse times in a party, is when it has ended. When everyone leaves, and when I silently crawl into my bed alone, and realise that the party did nothing to lift my spirits in and of itself. And I still felt lonely and unloved.

Last night however, was different.

I remembered that...
For all the surprises in the world, the greatest was in realising that Christ died for me, and He truly did love me for the lump of dump I was.

For all the parties in the world, I had the greatest one in heaven when I responded to Him as Lord and Saviour of my life.

For all the the celebrations in the world, I can look to the day when all of the saints would rejoice in the returning of our King.

For all the people to cram into a room, I already have a wonderful and loving family of brothers and sisters in Christ, that do more than make the numbers.

For all the birthday greetings, I have already been blessed with a multitude of prayers from members of that very same family.

I won't want to harp on never having experienced these on earth, or be tempted to compare myself to any other lucky babies who received such huge celebrations. Its no longer of consequence. [But no one is to say it isn't nice ;)]

In some instances, this is the quietest and yet most meaningful birthday. Well the day hasn't even quite gotten around to starting, I had just spent most of the morning savouring a heart wrenching, mindblowing and awe-inspiring birthday present. A dear friend gave me a book that helped to remind me once again, that I have already received the best birthday present ever.

In fact I've had it all along. I just forget to open it sometimes.

Gripped By Grace

I've just been banished into my room by my housemates. No one is allowing me anywhere near their 5m radius, having just returned from a weekend away without showering for 2 days. =)

Still feeling good, and the fatigue has not kicked in yet. Strangely so, it feels so nice to be returning home. To a room, to something familiar. I take comfort in small things like these. Just being able to return home, no matter how messy my room is. At least there is some semi-consistency in my life.

I greeted my room with a "welcome back to my life". Yet another strange sensation. It wasn't as if going for the christian union weekend away was differentiated as a separate life. Or anything of that sort. But somehow, its about returning to the practicalities and challenges in living out the grace filled life that we're called to live.

Yet as tired as I am, it feels strangely refreshing. Somehow I only got the message of the entire weekend only towards the last few sessions. About understanding that I am dead to my old life, and I live under the shadow of His grace, as a completely new creation. It happens each day, each morning, and we can therefore walk and live in confidence and in freedom to love and serve our Lord Jesus Christ.

Colossians 3:1-4

Left Behind

So its yet another friday night. At least this time I've got an internet connection. The last time I had a blog post ready, but just couldn't get it up. It felt constipated. Boy was that a depressing sounding post. But who wouldn't be in this conditions?

At least the nutheads below are not screaming their heads off. Or rather I've taken refuge in my housemate's room. Well until she starts nagging my head off.

Just a thought. Will my life be like this when I return home? When all my friends have graduated from college, when everyone else busies their lives with their job. Where will my real friends be? The ones that I will never tire of meeting every week. The ones that I can count on to call up for a meal whenever. The ones that can tolerate my endless nonsense.

Maybe that's why I always preferred going for weekend family gatherings. Low social effort meetings.

Maybe its because I don't invest in my friends enough.

I've got a sinking feeling everyone's lives move on. And I'll end up stuck in the past.

Music through heartsongs

A backdated thought.

Part of me is afraid I'll lose all these important thoughts that randomly flash through my head in a day. Unfortunately I don't have a keyboard nor a convenient internet connection to assist the recording of these thoughts.

One of which frequently occured during my last placement.

Funny are these things, when you try to pen them down, its seemingly impossible! But when they occur in your head, they are these amazingly brilliant insights [or so i think] that you wish the world could just see into your head and give you a literary prize for.

Enough daydreaming during firms. I digress.

Every thursday afternoon, the hospital would invite external performers to put up a music/artistic performance in the atrium of the hospital. It was such a refreshing change to see some life in that place, especially since after an entire day/week, all around me were scenes of death.

Not to be melodramatic, but theres a sort of understated nochalance that happens in the wards with regards to the patients. Yes we do recognise them as individuals, but sometimes the call for detachment to them, to their disease, sometimes makes me see them as mere jobs that need to be done. The CT that needs to be ordered, the bloods that need to be done. I gloss over the reality that Mr Bloggs is trying to cope with a debilitating disease and maybe there's other forms of healing that need to be done.

Bless those musicians, they really attempt to bring both clinicians and patients back to reality. Quite a difficult task. The sad thing though, is that many in the hospital who would benefit from this most, don't actually know it exists.

Transferable Skills

I survived my firms. I thought I never would.

Returning back to lectures for a few weeks of reprive. I'm enjoying this hiatus. We just had a lecture on essay writing, which culminated in the lecturer doing an outline for an essay of any topic of his audience's choice.

If thought bubbles could be visible... The lecture theatre would have been filled with the likes of "It's payback time. Here's what you get from dragging us out of bed so early for such a waffly lecture".

A resonant voice shot up from the audience
"Discuss the importance of wearing clean underwear on your first date"

So much from expecting something scientific from medical students. Or should I add, tired medical students. At least we could get some daytime entertainment.

He then proceed on a stepwise, detailed dissection and meticulous definition of the terms in the title. For example, the various degrees of clean [hmm...] underwear; the context of the person you are going on a first date with; and most importantly, whether your date would actually get to see the underwear at all.

Talk about living biology.

And I am still not confident of writing scientific essays. Now we know why.