My Dead End?

When was the last time I felt as bad at this?

I can't really care to remember.

I refuse to leave because I think it's not right, but by staying I'm at a loss of what I can do. I feel so sure I can't change anything here and I'm not the type to sit around placidly, doing nothing - not when my energy can be used for something real somewhere else.

Where are your hearts?

Another Day on the Malaysian Train

I stood at the corner of the carriage, leaning against the walls with my luggage huddled immediately beneath. The faint odor of diesel and cigarette smoke was present in the air - a palimpsest of smell – signs of both fuels and cigarettes that have burned and burned away into the atmosphere, but not without leaving their own marks – like a hint of old memory.

Because of the Chinese New Year traffic jam from Melaka to Seremban, I had missed my train back to Kampar. As penance, I had to exchange the comforts of the modern ETS to take the commuter to KL Sentral before switching over to a night train to Ipoh. There I will stay over for a night at Elim Gospel Hall, making my way to Kampar only the next day.

The carriage was filled with people of all races, mostly Malays. I feel uncomfortable calling people Malays, or Indians or even Chinese, in fact. I feel like it separates us, although I think it shouldn’t and I wish it didn’t. I wonder if the labels of race had as acute an effect on people as it has on me.

Not that I need any additional reason to feel separate from others.

After all, I’m a very un-Chinese-like Chinese, a very un-Malaysian-like Malaysian and maybe even a very un-young-adult-like young adult. I can’t speak Chinese properly or write Chinese at all, I lived and studied in Singapore from the age of 14-18.. you get the picture.

I speak and write Bahasa Melayu well enough (PMR and ‘O’ Levels – ‘A’, if that means anything) but as I listened to the banter of the group of Malay (here I go again) friends around me, I realized that um, I probably don’t understand them too well. After all, in casual situations, nobody really speaks the proper Bahasa Melayu developed by Dewan Pustaka, but revert to the language in its more uncontrolled and natural form. This can be pretty hard to follow, if you’re a guy whose best Malay friends prefer speaking English or is his old Malay teacher (proper BM all the way!)

I feel like an alien, but I don’t want to be. Will I be fully accepted in this country I live in, or will I bloom only in the fringes of its society – with other fellas like me? What I want is to be accepted, not simply on the basis of my abilities and talents, or on my ideals, but simply by virtue of who I am – the good, the bad, the weird and the ugly.

If it doesn’t, that will be pretty sad, but it’ll be okay anyway.

The smell of diesel and cigarette smoke lingered in the air, clinging jealously to our clothes. You can forget us but we’re still here.

Home

Today at Bible Study/Prayer Meeting we sang a few songs. Many of them were about the life that is to come, and the hope we place in them - with one in particular that really moved me.

It's an old country song, like all the songs that we sang during the meeting - and though I've been exposed to many modern worship songs with elaborate instrumental arrangements, I don't ever recall being so moved by a single song before in a long, long time. So we sang together in that room (no harmonizing) with Uncle Samson hacking away at his guitar:

"This world is not my home, I'm just a-passing thru'

My treasures are laid up, somewhere beyond the blue,

The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door,

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

O Lord, I know I have no Friend like you

If Heaven's not my home, O Lord what will I do?

The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door,

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore."

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqRpyG0W96k&feature=related)

Today has been a different day for me. As you might be able to tell from my previous post, I've been thinking about all the things I've been getting involved with around me. Just today, I celebrated a sister's birthday, I ran 11km with the uncles, I read Scripture, I started planning for a big upcoming event, I thought about next week's CF session that I'll also be co-chairing and I went to Bible Study/Prayer Meeting to have fellowship and to build the church.

Yes, these are all things I value. I value my brothers and sisters, and my friends. I value the challenge of improving myself through running. I value these events that I believe can enrich other people's lives, as a corollary of being light and salt. I value the CF as the Christian presence on campus. I value the church that so gracefully accepted me and gave me a foundation of fellowship in Kampar. I value the experience of deepening one's insight in His word.

Yet, at a moment like this all of these are overwhelmed with a singular longing, which is to be in Heaven at the side of Jesus - who is a dear friend like no other

"Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far, but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body."

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

Home, with a difference.

Here I am, home in Melaka.

It's always a little unreal to be back. I always get this feeling like I haven't been back in a long time. It's an awkward confluence of both the familiar and the alien - I somehow feel that I am a stranger, but a stranger in a place that is steeped with memories and connections. And after a short while of floating in a distance, I settle back into those familiar memories and connections - and I'm home again.

The truth is that I've been here a mere 3 weeks ago during study break, but as I always say, our experience of time is not simply a matter of the passing of seasons or of hours or of days - it is also a matter of what happens within that physical span of time.

A significant three weeks? Why, certainly. I grappled with exams and tried (and to a large extent failed) to focus with the kind of concentration that I aspire to. I presented all my worries, anxieties, cares and supplications to Him. I grew much closer in my walk with many of the brethren here. I grew to rely on Him all the more, and He chose to reveal to me more about the kind of man He wants me to be - not simply a collection of abstract principles but a concrete manifestation of these ideals.

There was the committee retreat, where I decided to never again back down from confronting our problems. I will pray, think, talk, discuss and ACT upon them. We cannot let this slide. When you see the smoke, do not say that there is no fire - look for it and put it out, because the fire burns the tree which is the family of God, and that is far too precious to me and to us and most of all, to Him.

So yes, in a few hours, I will settle down again into the familiarity of Home, but this time, it is Home with a difference, that I am here to make myself different for Him. Can I walk closer with Him in the next 11 days, and in doing so be genuinely nearer to being a true man of God?

I commit myself to persevering in His word, and in doing so, may I bear fruit that is pleasing in His eyes. Please pray for me.

"Be very careful, then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is."

And there it is, I see it and understand.