Pakistan calls

Newsflash: Joan and I have signed up to join CREST in a medical mission trip to Balakot, Pakistan for the earthquake relief efforts. We are going from 26 November till 10 December 2005.

Since the earthquake in October, many communities in the mountain ranges around Balakot have been left homeless to fend for themselves against the cold. The death-toll stands above 80,000 and threatens to rise in the winter. Water-borne diseases, skin infection, and psychological trauma are the commonest medical problems apart from the need for shelter and warmth.



We have been informed that we will fly into Islamabad or Peshawar, and proceed to our base camp at Mushafarrabad at the foothills. We will make daily trips into the mountains, part by road and part on foothills to go into villages where we setup medical camps. After our ‘virgin entry’ into these villages, most of which have not had any aid, much less encounters with Christians, other teams may follow up with shelter and reconstruction work. From reports of a team gone before us, the needs are overwhelming but the people are highly receptive. Apart from landslides and the occasional aftershock, our safety seems to be quite assured as the Pakistani have high regard for Chinese and the military is very protective of aid workers. Praise God for that.

We ask for your prayer support for the entire mission team, our safety and wisdom in interacting with the people. Please pray also for our parents, who we know will be very anxious. If you would like to commit yourself to being a prayer partner for this mission trip, please do reply to us as we will be much encouraged to know of the people praying for us while we are up there.

I hope to bring back lots of photos/videos, and information on how we can contribute if you are interested. There is an adoption program also where sponsors can adopt families and sponsor their rehabilitation.

Addicted to work?

I hadn't realised how addicted I am to my job until this long Deepa-Raya break. It was a week of celebration for me - of NO TRAFFIC, GOOD FOOD and all the TV I could watch without my eyes popping out.

Let me see - I watched 3 episodes of HOUSE (the TV series), House of Wax, Guess Who, and The Longest Yard. All were fun. In fact HOUSE has made me want to study medicine all over again; this time not to pass exams but for the sheer pleasure of grappling with the mysteries of human life and disease. House of Wax was,...well, overrated and under-horrored. Guess Who was surprisingly more interesting and engaging than most romantic comedies of late. And The Longest Yard was simply hilarious. By the end of the week, I was going out of my mind, rearranging furniture and making my own cables!

Anyway, I was only too glad to get back to work yesterday and be in operating theatre again. The north-pole chill of OT and the musical beeps and hums of machines makes for a second home. Am I addicted to work? Is this a good thing or a bad thing? I'm sure it's a bit of both. Tomorrow the students will be back in class for more torture and my clinic should be in full swing on Thursday...

Sigh... The joys of work.

Education for the soul

My Scripture reading today was Numbers 20. The tragic chapter where Moses & Aaron are sentenced from ever entering the Promised Land. Next to Adam & Eve getting banished from Eden, this must be the second most heart-wrenching moment in the Pentateuch. Moses venting his frustration, Aaron following suit, both of them receiving their sentence, Aaron degarbed... There is a pained silence in that chapter that shrieks of a tragedy too grave to put in words.

But the lesson is so clear. In this journey, on this side of heaven, God is interested most in my faith. And by faith I don't mean a mental approbration of a set of doctrines, but a deep visceral belief that God saves and provides. I'm beginning to see that wilderness periods are potentially the most precious of times. They make or break us. Sometimes I choose rightly, sometimes I don't. But my faith is being built from the ground up.

Do I believe enough to do just as He says, and only as He says - no more, no less. No need to give God a helping hand or take extra precautionary measures, just in case?

A couple of days ago, while trying to repeat some Scripture to myself, I found I couldn't say 'In God I trust, whose word I praise' with any amount of sincerity. There is way too much unbelief within. Does God really meet all my emotional, vocational, financial needs?

How much of my decisions and actions are predicated on this unbelief? There is much unbelief to repent of, and much transforming work to be done in my heart. A work accomplished only by receiving His love in the deepest recesses of my soul. This 'wilderness' I'm in isn't the first and certainly not the last. But in each episode, I pray that the soul-education that God is offering is not lost on me.

Career Wilderness

My current university job has been a great trial for me in a paradoxical sense - I am under-worked. I feel my research talents are wasted, opportunities to develop surgical skill is denied, and overall I have little to contribute in my current capacity. My hope of moving to our designated hospital where I may have the freedom and opportunity to fluorish has been dashed over and over again.

And all this, over the past year and a half, has plunged me into pits of depression - doubting my own worth and progress in life. I am only in my mid-30s and I feel like I'm ready for retirement!

In that context, I read today something from Rachel Remen. She says, 'Many times we can put them (suffering) behind us and get on with the rest of our lives. But.. some things are too big or too deep to do this, and we will have to leave important parts of ourselves behind if we treat them in this way. These are the places where wisdom begins to grow in us. It begins with suffering that we do not avoid or rationalize or put behind us. It starts with the realization that our loss, whatever it is, has become a part of us and has altered our lives so profoundly that we cannot go back to the way it was before.'

I am beginning to move from denial to acceptance. Life needs rebuilding and redefining. I want to believe that this period of career wilderness is refining me in ways I can't see. That God is chiseling ruthlessly away at my ambition, my drivenness and my restlesness. I am forced to ask, what IS really important to me and to God? Am I what I do, or do I do what I am? I am forced to face my deep unbelief that God could be in control and pry my controlling fingers into open hands. I am forced to confront my fears of becoming obsolete, irrelevant, useless, a vocational failure.

I believe that suffering/hunger is grace. I believe this wilderness is a gift to embrace. It is the panting without which the deer would not seek a stream. It is in my wilderness that I am compelled to ask the most important questions: who am I and who is my God?

My soul, find rest!

My soul, find rest!
Find rest in God alone.

Alone,
Not with your thoughts

Alone,
Not with your ambitions

Alone,
Not with your books
or PC
or projects

Alone,
Not clawing at things to achieve
Things to hold
People to impress

Alone,
It's so hard isn't it?
Are you afraid,
There is nothing there?

Do not fear
Being alone
For alone is where I am
And where you are is where God is

Mary and Martha slugs it out

I see so much of myself in the Martha depicted here – craving for attention, exhausted without it, presenting my best work, vying for merit. And then appaled to have Jesus point a finger at Mary, not in condemnation, but to show me that it is the ‘better way’ Oh man, had I known...

The Mary within continues to wage war with the Martha in me. Or rather my inner Mary continues to be bashed by my type-A, engine-driven Martha, accusing: Why do you sit around and do nothing? What have you achieved today, this week, this month? Are you getting anywhere? How can you be so inactive when there are so many needs around you? Don't just sit there, do something already! With that kind of inner drivenness playing out all day, it's no wonder I exhaust myself so easily. On the other hand, even when I am drained, I do not know how to rest.

I journaled on Saturday:
'If not for the discipline of a weekend review, I won't even have realised how much and why I am in severe unrest and plummetting into unhealthy habits.

Here I am at the end of the week, insomniac and weighed down by false guilt. And I'm not letting up - I still feel like I need to do more, find more to do, feel so unaccomplished...

But look at the week:
- you operated on a mycetoma
- you ran a busy clinic
- you've written 2 chapters of your book
- you've read a few papers
- you met with and counseled 2 people
- you took two bedside teachings
- you ran once in the morning
- traffic has been murderous
- you brought your parents to Serdang

You are so driven and so addicted to the adrenaline, your insight/memory is clouded. All you can feel/see is your need to DO SOMETHING. You are not how many articles you write, how many classes you take, how many poeple you meet, or how much weight you lose. These are the guidelines I use to live a healthy life, but they do not constitute who I am. I am who I am. And God loves me as I am.

If there is a time you need to STOP and DO NOTHING - IT IS NOW!

COME AWAY. STOP FROM YOUR WORK. FIND YOURSELF AND GOD IN YOU.'

Jesus says to the Martha in me: "Yoke Yeow, Yoke Yeow, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Choose what is better, and it will not be taken away from you."

There comes a point every day, and at the end of every week, that I must hear that firm voice and cease. Disengage my gears, detach from the work, and declare a time of Sabbath rest. A time to just BE. Reaffirm I am who I am, apart from and before the work.

Lincoln was depressed?

Soo Inn writes in Learning from Lincoln that the great president of the US of A struggled all his life with depression, but that depression gave him clarity, creativity, and humility.

SI also shares: 'as one who has made his own short sojourn into clinical depression I cannot see how I would wish that experience on any one... The reality is that we now live in a fallen world where pain is a given. Quoting Eugene O'Neil, Shenk reminds us that “Man is born broken.” Post Fall, pain is a given. A wise and loving God now uses that brokenness for His higher purposes. Today, we live in a society that sees pain as an enemy to be removed as quickly and as efficiently as possible. I understand this desire. Pain is no fun. It's just that sometimes we remove pain too quickly, before it can deliver its message.'

Thank you for that, Soo Inn. As someone who suffers recurrent low-grade depression, I couldn't agree more. I am constantly faced with a choice: to fight the pain or to embrace it. To pour my energies into palliating it, or do the surgical work of dealing with its root causes.

I accept that on this side of heaven, the agony of living cannot possibly be eradicated. Instead pain can show me my greatest needs/weaknesses and keep driving me forward in my journey to God. Befriend your pain, Nouwen would say. Let it show the way.

As surgeons, we understand that more than anyone else. Pain brings the patient to us. The nature of pain guides us to the pathology. And the goals of treatment is not mere pain-relief but cure, by surgical removal if necessary. There are instances, even, where pain-relief is cruelly deprived of the patient - in fear of 'masking' the disease process. In the same spirit, I read yesterday Yancey's summation of the book of Job: 'God is more interested in our faith than our pleasure.'

Lincoln was depressed? It's good to know we're in good company!

Were I Not Alone

Were there not loneliness
I would not know
How alone
I am without you
And whom I’m lonely for

Were not the pain
Of longing
So intense, so painful
I would not know
How much I have not you

Were I not alone
I would not know
From whence I came
Where I go
And Whom I’m made for

SUDOKU addiction

I can't believe it.. I've succumbed to the latest craze all over the world - SUDOKU. Since I found a Palm version last night, I haven't been able to put it down.

The rules of the game couldn't be simpler: 'Enter digits from 1 to 9 into the blank spaces. Every row must contain one of each digit. So must every column, as must every 3x3 square.Each Sudoku has a unique solution that can be reached logically without guessing.'

If you're game for it, try it at Websudoku.com. If you're having trouble and need some powerful weapons for problem-solving, go to Sudoku solver. And if you need to carry it on your Palm for boring meetings and hours-long traffic jams, download Andrew Gregory's free version.

WARNING: This game is HIGHLY ADDICTIVE and is known to cause insomnia, blurred vision, mumbling-to-self, and missing-your-trainstop syndrome.

Don't say I didn't warn you...

The Tent Enlarges

I've revived my photo blog, something I used to do way back in 1999 for the original TENT (which had 9 different secttions!!)

Anyway just to get it going, I did some simple snapping at home today, allowing things to just leap out at me and 'arrest me' so to speak.

The first was just a branch of dead leaves blown in by the wind. I felt a bit like that - drained on the weekend, just wanting to get a little life back in my vine.






The second shot was of a boquet of flowers given to me by my wife on my birthday (that was months ago.) It's drying up nicely now but the colors were still very much intact. I've given it a color spot on black and white tones. Just to say that the kind of beauty infused into a gift like that, never fades...

A Stopping Place

I've just returned from a retreat at Frasers' Hill where I was both retreat leader AND participant. It was a very insightful experience for me - both helping others come into a place of rest as well as finding rest and healing for myself. So throughout the two and a half days I would share a few thoughts, lead in the practice of a spiritual discipline, and then settle into reflection and contemplation myself.

The beauty of doing it this way was that we were all journeying together. No one was really the 'guru' or the 'leader' who had all the answers. I wasn't put on a pedestal. We could all be real and see our common struggles breaking through our restlessness to find rest in God.

So after three days of crisp, cold air, birds singing, trees rustling in the wind, bright colored flowers and amazing food, and much time in God's felt presence, I return to the mad city. The paradox is I am deeply refreshed and energized on one level, and also drained and exhausted on another level. I know I'm going to need a few days of quiet and being alone to recover my own space and pace.. If I give in to the seduction of adrenaline (I'm so charged up right now, let's jump into another project!) I will surely raze myself to the ground.

So the invitation to find rest resounds right now and I must not fail to here it and enter it. I need to just stop awhile, not do anything, find stability within before I move on again.

Fight the flab

I've been eating without thinking and neglecting exercise for a couple of months now. Chomping my way steadily up 3kgs since I dared look at the scales. Yesterday I started running again and clocked my slowest speed ever in 2 years! 6.6kph for a distance of 5km. That's from a high of 11kph... Sob!

Today, I decided I will start counting again and logging my exercise and intake.

Input today: 2240cals! (from a kong-fu chau for dinner, and McD's double cheeseburger for lunch) Bad, bad, bad. I'm going to try to get back to a sub 1500cal day in order to lose 1kg a week.

Just to remind us how much a Double Cheese-burger McValue meal can set you back, these are the figures:

Double Cheeseburger = 480cals

Coke = 210cals

French Fries = 453 cals

Eat that all... 1143cals! Doesn't leave much space for anything else does it?

Anyone who needs an Excel worksheet (based on Asian foods) to calculate his input vs. output plus a chart to boot, contact me and I'll send you one! Join me on the crusade against obesity! Say TAKNAK GEMUK!

Only One Way

Expressed in many ways, the Word (in Psalm 33-34)continues to assert that there is only one way worth following, and that is God's. Conversely, our short-sighted humanistic purposes he 'foils' and 'thwarts.' We are reminded not to place any confidence in the things that will ultimately fail, like the 'size of his army', 'great strength' of the warrior' or the speed of a 'horse in hope of deliverance.'

No amount of power, ability, influence, possesion can protect you and buy you safety, solace and peace of mind. The psalmist urges us to do the only right thing, and that is 'in him our hearts rejoice, trust in his holy name, put our hope in Him'.

Psalm 34 also reminds us that on this side of heaven, there is no guarantee of a triumphalist, whoopsy-daisy life of comfort. In fact, 'a righteous man may have many troubles'(!) 'But he delivers him from them all.'

That is the thrust of living on hope. It is always a forward looking life. One that does not waste energies in trying to build or recapture a little Eden for ourselves here on earth. But instead is willing to courageously put our hope in a future glory, joy and comfort. This world is truly not our home, we're just a passing through.

In response to another piece of scripture: "Teach me to do your will, for you are my God; may your good Spirit lead me on level ground." Ps 143:10


Your will,
Not my own
Your thoughts
Higher than mine
Your lead
I shall follow

Not the will of man
Not my selfish dreams or foolish ambitions
Not the pace of the world
Only YOUR will

For you are my God
No other God and no other shall I follow

Getting away

Decided on a whim to get out of the city and look down on it, at it, away from it, just not be in it, for a while. And oh what a wonderful experience it was. We drove up the Hulu Langat hills, and just less than 10km from where the road leaves Cheras is this small clearing where we can plant ourselves and just stare at KL city in all its madness.

It was great just to feel apart from it for a while. And the continuous chilly breeze was lovely too. That's what I call regaining sanity. And in an act of saintliness, I lifted my hand in benediction, 'All you mad people in the mad city,.. God bless you.'

Take a close look at this picture and you can see two planets - Jupiter above and Venus below - shining down on the city. The only celestial lights you can see with our level of light pollution..

The Levitical Mystery

The instructions to the priesthood and prescriptions for correct temple protocol found in the book of Leviticus is laborious and wearisome to work through. It is hard to understand the God of the New Testament who is one of grace and freedom encumbering the Israelites of the Old with such huge burdens and near-impossible legalism.

But there are the occasional hints that clues us in on the basis for such elaborate institutions. Like Lev 17:11, where the LORD declares that 'the life of a creature is in the blood, and I have given it to you to make atonement for yourselves on the altar; it is the blood that makes atonement for one's life.'

Or this paradoxical declaration at the end of Lev 22, after a long list of what makes a sacrifice acceptable or unacceptable, a priest clean or unclean: 'I am the LORD, who makes you holy and who brought you out of Egypt to be your God.' Imagine that - to say that after all that has been done, none of it makes you holy - only He does.

The shedding of blood. A perfect sacrifice. The imputation of righteousness. It's all there and more.

I get the impression that the whole concept and institution of an atoning sacrifice is being systematically programmed into the consciousness and culture of the Israelites. And a perfect sacrifice at that. Truly this is God at work in history - hinting at the future when one such perfect sacrifice will come. Encrypted in this codec of levitical practice is every facet and nuance of Christ's atoning work on the Cross. It is a depth worth plumbing for such gold.

Much Ado About MDs

It seems like there's a new wave of M.D. shows on TV. With the demise of Chicago Hope and E.R., and only Becker surviving the times, we now have two brand new, swanky doctor shows - SCRUBS and HOUSE.

For the unacquainted, SCRUBS revolves around a few interns with overactive imaginations, hip lives, and a great zest for people. In short - a myth. But, hey, who among us MDs don't wish our lives were a little like that. I liked today's episode on Astro, actually, where a dying patient taught an intern that it was ok to rest.

That he needed to give himself permission to go lie on the grass and relax for awhile. We MDs do become so obsessed and entrapped in our work sometimes as not to be able to see the bigger picture or to find ourselves apart from it.

HOUSE, on the other hand, glorifies a team of diagnosticians whose expertise is solving the unsolvable cases. Those that, in our real life hospitals, normally go quietly unsolved. Labelled 'SEPTICEMIA' or 'M.I.'. These guys however, come up with high flung diagnoses like cerebral cysticercosis, or colchicine-poisoning. I understand that the whole point of this series is that - the diagnostic genius of Dr. House and his dream team. What is unrealistic is how these guys run ALL the lab tests themselves! From gene sequencing to viral antibody titres! That's really taking it too far.

What I DO like about it, is the FED-UPness of House (which is true of all of us after seeing one patient too many) and the METICULOUSNESS of his problem-solving. I've seen more than one technique that we actually employ in real life, being used. One is the acronym for pathologies - he uses MIDNIGHT (for metabolic, infective, degenerative, neoplastic, etc.), and the other is the Venn diagram for looking for the disease that accounts for ALL presenting symptoms. Also the mention of Occam's razor was very gratifying to me - the simplest explanation is most likely the correct one.

As doctors we may pooh-pooh the idealism, unreal-ness, or far-fetchedness of some of the stories, but let's not deny that in some way it validates our lives as human beings. That's what I like about these shows - they portray us frail, vulnerable, and confused like everyone else. And even if it doesn't change public perception, I hope it helps us to accept ourselves better.

Perfect Discovery

I'm so proud of what I've done with SALIVATE, my food indulgence blog. Not that many people actually go to it to look for places to eat. Not that I've reviewed that many places. It's just that the ROJAK shot looks so damned good there, I salivate when I look at it. And I've been able to put in a map and satellite photo to show how to fly in also. Now that's an achievement! Hah.

Good friend Fook Meng from Melaka congratulated me for finding the 'places off the beaten path'. Precisely why it was such a wonderful experience for Joan and I. Truth is we were driving around the cemetery, a little lost, looking for a place to park when the two stalls just sprang into view. We screeched to a halt on a whim, and my, what a wonderful discovery it was! The backdrop of a cemetery, the simplicity of the 2 stalls, the magnificence of the food, and the chance find made it all a perfect moment for us. One of the simple highlights of our journey to Melaka last week.

A shared home

The words 'You are not your own, you were bought at a price' - is both convicting and liberating.

It condemns the runaway arrogance of absolute self-rule. My life is not for me to run as I wish and to do with any way I so please. I am not my own. I belong also to someone else.

On the other hand, the success and outcome of my life isn't squarely on my shoulders either. I am not solely responsible. The burden isn't all mine. I am not my own. I belong also to someone else.

What joy to be called a temple. A tabernacle. A home. To be a heart/body that is a shared space with the One who transforms it, enlivens it and nurtures it together with me. I want to be a space always full of love, warmth and truth, and a space always available to others.

Whose earth is it?

Everyone has strong feelings about the shroud we are under. Take away our blue skies and majestic skyline and fires begin to burn in the hearts of Malaysians.

Only until recently did the government end its secrecy on the API - by which time, undeniable and unconcealable hazardous levels has already been superceded. But API or no API, we are all choked, and we are panicking. Like smoking rats in a cage, with nowhere to run, the frenzy is palpable. It's not just a haze in the sky, it's confusion on the ground as well.

How long will this last? How is it affecting my health? Should I stay home or go to work? Is it safe? Will there be an emergency? Should I think of moving out of the city?



We can blame Indonesia and demand for compensation. Lame apologies are useless right now - we want action! Then we find out that Malaysian plantations are partly responsible for raging flames across the Straits.

This morning my wife and I drove through thick smog. The sky was slate gray. The majestic twin towers, usually sparkling with glory were reduced to ghostly shadows. And there were hardly any cars on the road - (a glad thanks to PM for his quick call for an emergency in some parts, and the closure of schools throughout Klang Valley). This is what a nuclear winter would look like - if we survived to see it, that is - I remarked to my wife.

If this was a sign, a wake-up call, it is to tell us that our environment is frail and extremely vulnerable. The carrying capacity of our air is so exhausted that the slightest disturbance will tip us into this gray winter. It is also to tell us that when it comes to caring for planet earth, political boundaries have no meaning. We are responsible, and all of us are responsible. If we never appreciated it enough to protect it - we must now.

To Be Alive Again

A short lectio divina of Jeremiah 33:3 today brought these most-quoted words pounding through my brick-walled heart.

'Call to me and I will answer...'

'Call to me... you do not know.'

These words sank deeply through my callouses and brought out a throbbing cry for help. Buried alive beneath layers of rubble I do not even have words for, is this cry: 'God I need you, I need to feel, and know, and see you again. I want to be alive again, with your life flowing through mine. I am so dead. So cold. Dry bones and lukewarm spit hardly describes how frozen and encased I feel. My spiritual ECG is a flatline.'

I have been like the walking dead for so long.

I do not want to spend my life reading news, combing blogs, raking forums. I don't want my life to be about the patients I've seen, the books I've read or movies I've analysed. I don't want to think great thoughts and have deep insights or grand visions. I don't want do more work, or find more rest. No. None of these things make me alive or means I'm living.

I need and only want one thing. God. To have God, to have a vibrant, throbbing, flesh-and-blood real-life journey with God. I audibly groan. I want to break free. Make war against all the false substitutes and self-imposed deceptions about what life is. And put my whole self into the one pursuit I am made for - the pursuit of God.

'Call to me and I will answer you, and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.'

Whatever it takes, God. Whatever the price. Anything.. to be alive in Your life again. Swim in your stream, flowing in Your spirit, dying in Your cause. But let it be all about You and me.

Ultimate triumph

Psalm 18 can sound triumphalist and melodramatic. The use of metaphors from nature (images of thunderstorms and volcano eruptions comes to mind) to dramatize God's intervention seems like an indulgence in hyperbole.

But when seen in the light of David's desperation and depression in other passages, one can't help but share in his moment of ecstatic joy. If the preceding psalms (15-17) were immediate predecessors of this one, in real, historical time, then it is a moment of triumph to truly savor. David's agonizing patience has paid off. His tongue-biting trust and gritty refusal to succumb has been rewarded.

How many long, dark nights have I been through? How often have I been betrayed by the very people I serve? Depression and desperation seem to be the norm, trouble-free days the exception. But I have good reason, David reminds me, to smile at the storm. Joy need not be postponed to a time that may never come - it can be a present reality because 'The Lord lives!.. He is the God who saves me' and 'turns my darkness into light.'

David testifies: 'He is a shield for all who take refuge in him.'

Starting again and again

Writing on The Tent again after a long hiatus is like starting a conversation with a friend you haven't met in years. Not knowing where to begin. Umming and aahhing. Trying to cut beyond the small talk to the stuff of the heart. Parrying one another, playing the game of disclosure vs. evasion.

What IS the stuff of my heart? What condition am I really in? If I were to answer a 'how are you?' honestly, what would I say?


I badly need purpose.

And passion.

I thoroughly enjoy my clinics. There are few experiences gratify like seeing patients does. I love surgery. Every time I have an opportunity to explore new frontiers, try new manouvres, put my knife to a difficult situation - I have the all time adrenaline rush. And students.. ahh, students. They are the joy of my life. Nothing beats being able to impart something of worth to a young, passionate medical student. To draw out the questioning mind and to guide them in applying truth to reality, theory to practice, their hearts & minds to the service of others - what could be more rewarding?

Yet, yet... I am restless. I seek more. Or is it less? What is this all-elusive thing, this balance, this thrust that I am looking for?

Stop whining

I had lunch with a good friend today. She met me in one of the wards at the hospital and we walked out to a nearby Nasi Kandar shop. We talked about our lives and our jobs. But soon she got on the topic of my research and somehow, I just slipped into this mode of negativity. I talked endlessly about the politics and the deeply entrenched strangleholds in the system that work against researchers. I knew I was going down the slippery road of whining but I just couldn't stop myself.

I wouldn't blame her if she left our lunch meeting demoralised and disillusioned. I felt lousy. Both for ruining our lunch meeting, and for reopening my old wounds.

So, it was a blast of fresh air when I read (and sang aloud) Psalm 17 in the evening.

Pushed to the wall by injustices and surrounding corruption, David's voice is one that rises above the hegemony. Singing a new melody, a pure note against a world deafened by groans of despair. For him there is a God who is just and who will do justice - always. He prays:'May my vindication come from You; may your eyes see what is right.' God is the final court of appeal, the defender of the right and vindicator of all.

David's prayer moulds for me a worldview that is far beyond this world when he utters: 'save me... from men of this world whose reward is in this life.' For our ultimate reward cannot be found here in a fallen and degraded world. We await a new heaven and earth. And even so our vindication. Justice may not be done this side of heaven, but it will be done, for 'when I awake, I will be satisfied with seeing your likeness.'

God sees and God acts. It is the most powerful hope there is. I need to stop whining, and get busy living.

Choked out

Joan has joined me in working at HKL. Probably the busiest hospital in all of Malaysia. She gets off at 730pm every day, so what is a specialist with a cushy job like me to do between 5 to 730? I thought I'd go running today at Tmn Tasik Titwangsa. The place of great serenity and calm, a shroud of lush trees overhanging a mirror-flat lake.

But when I got there, to my horror - I realised I was shrouded by more than trees, we were practically being gassed by smog! I looked up and the pinnacles of Malaysia's achievements, the twin towers, were swallowed by haze. There were only two turrets barely peeping out of the haze. What in the world?

Taking a look at MEASAT's satellite imagery superimposed with Google Earth's mapping system (earth.google.com), it seems like a cloud of smoke is being blown over from Sumatra. Again? We'll find out soon enough. I'm sure there's going to be a flood of choking, gasping, wheezing asthmatics in the emergency rooms all over town tonight! What are we doing to ourselves - the human race - choking ourselves to death?



Anyway, I never ran quite so fast and for so short a time. Got back gasping from the bad air and saw a few ladies pull up, get out of the car, cover their noses and stare skeptically into the air. I smiled at them and remarked wryly, 'It isn't safe to be outdoors anymore!' To which they wrinkled their noses and disappeared into the haze.

Seeing the Big Picture

I'm in a period of much confusion and disillusionment. Much has been going wrong and outlook is very bleak at work. For once I have no clear path to tread and every option is both frightening and foreboding to me. It's depressing, to say the least. While moping around last night, I flipped to the day's reading of Oswald Chambers' classic, My Utmost For His Highest, just on a whim.

I was stunned by the amazing serendipity of the page leaping out at me. 'Don't Plan Without God' was its opening line, followed by a verse: 'Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass —Psalm 37:5' Oswald Chambers, in short, reminded me to factor in God as the biggest factor and to eliminate the present evil and uncertain future from my ruminations. Neither the evil intentions of people nor the uncertainties of the future are in my control. But God certainly is. I'm reminded that I don't live in a closed system of cause and effect. Not all factors are equal. There is a Higher Power who intervenes and guides..

I mentioned the reading to my wife, to which she replied: 'If God brought us through the years in Kelantan, what is this?' That's putting it in perspective for me!

What do I know?

Anthony de Mello once said: 'When you come to see you are not as wise today as you thought you were yesterday, you are wiser today,' and 'Wisdom tends to grow in proportion to one's awareness of one's ignorance.'

We physicians pride ourselves with our knowledge. We have conquered anatomy, physiology, biochemistry and all the clinical theory we can possibly learn in five years of medical school. Then we have specialised and again grappled with enormous amounts of scientific facts and applied them to our patients. When our patients ask us questions, we steel our faces and speak with authority. We know. We are all wise.


Even the language we use every day betrays that assumption. The word diagnosis means to know (gnosis) through-and-through (dia). And prognosis is to know in advance! How many professions claim to know even the future! How we pride ourselves with our knowledge.

Ironically, sometimes it is this knowledge that keeps us from truly learning and knowing. When I had finished my exams a year ago, the feeling was quite different. I had just been certified by a conjoint board of experts that my knowledge and skill was befitting that of a specialist. I overflowed with knowleedge, there was nothing I couldn't handle. Only a year but many difficult cases later, I have to admit I know nothing.

What do we really know? The evolution of medical science is testimony to how much we didn't know 10 years ago, and what we think we know now will be laughable in just 5 years. And what do we know of our patients besides the labels we give them? How does the man with cancer feel about his disease? What motivates him to seek treatment? What about death - how will he face it? How do our patients make sense of disease and death, where do they find meaning, how do they carry on? I think I have more to learn from them than I have to offer.

As a physician I have been given the privilege to be in such close contact with the rawest of human experiences - pain, suffering, death. What is the purpose of these? What were they put here to teach? What have I learnt? Are there clues about life and living that I have missed? Perhaps it is in the throes of suffering and inexplicable pain that we can find some answers.

But beyond that, there must be a sense of mystery. For what is science, what is medicine without uncertainty and mystery to keep us plodding and searching? Perhaps when I let go of what I know for a while, I might actually begin to learn...

"What, concretely, is Enlightenment?"
"Seeing Reality as it is," said the Master.
"Doesn't everyone see Reality as it is?"
"Oh, no! Most people see it as they think it is."
"What's the difference?"
"The difference between thinking you are drowning in a stormy sea and knowing you cannot drown because there isn't any water in sight for miles around." - Anthony de Mello

Stand in the Gap

I'm in the midst of preparing a topic to be presented at a friend's church this Sunday. I'm going through a few of my favorite authors, picking out gem-like quotations that I have loved so much. Sayings that have insinuated themselves deep into my belief system and have traveled with me for a long, long way. As I collate these bits of choice words, typing them into my Reference Manager, they are already working their power over me.

This happens to me each time. When I'm called to speak or write an article, I invariably do two things - search my heart on what I hold dearest, and go back to my 'gurus' who have taught me the most. Then I try to weave these things into something coherent for my listener/reader. In hope that the magic that has worked in my life will somehow filter through my own experiences to touch them too.

As I do this, hunched over the keyboard, books all around, a solitary cheap table lamp to illumine my labors - I realise this: I love writing. I love words. I love the way they bring out my deepest yearnings and fire me up even before I speak them. Writing, is primarily for the writer. The farmer reaps the firstfruits... I am the first to be blessed.

But it is also not an endeavor in isolation. If not for the speaking or writing assignments I would never bring myself to do this. The discipline is very rewarding, but also because there is an audience. In the end I am a servant. I place myself at the feet of both the Giver of Truth and the Listener. And pray, and strive, and labor on my work to be true to both. I stand in the gap and hope that something from Heaven gets streamed through to reach Earth.

The Learning Paradigm

Peter Sheppard teaches in his book, Life Matters the 'Learning Paradigm', which consists of:
1. What? - Concepts, facts
2. Why? - Principles
3. How we feel - Values, Attitudes, Motivation
4. How we apply - Skill, Technique, Method

Confucius says: What I hear, I forget, what I see, I understand, what I do, I remember.

Einstein says: I don't teach, I create the environment conducive for learning.

I remember how in med school, too much time and energy was spent on teaching and learning the facts which could have been easily gleaned from textbooks and even more quickly committed to memory if I was better motivated.

As a med lecturer now I am guilty of doing the same thing. Vomiting lists and tables and making their accurate regurgitation my end goal.

How artless this kind of teaching!

I'd do better helping my students find their personal motivation, whet desire and excitement to learn, and empower them by giving them things to do, ownership of their careers.

Crawling home

Me and wife were stuck in the most horrendous jam outside of KL city, ever. We had decided to head to Ipoh on a day trip to visit a few good friends. It was a nice trip - nice conversations, good food, restful lepakking. We thought we were wise to leave Ipoh by 6pm to get back to KL just as light wanes.

To our horror, we slammed right into a brick wall of cars at about Tanjung Malim. For the first few km we thought, o... maybe it's this accident here, or that guy stopping there, or the lanes converging.. But we crawled, and crawled, and crawled. For at least another 20km. With every passing mile our nerves fell apart, we sighed and groaned and grimaced. Headlights from oncoming cars and tailgating buses totally blinded us and gave us headaches. Then finally, somewhere around the Kuala Behrang exit, we saw the gap between cars widen ahead of us. Freedom!

When it came to our turn to reach the end of the jam, to our double horror we saw the cause of the pile up.

Police!

Three police cars were parked by the roadside, spotlights perched on their roofs blazing onto the road. And they were just picking out cars at random to check, to fine, to harass, whatever. Are our police so lonely that they have to park in the middle of nowhere, at 9pm, and fish out hapless commuters for company? For that - what could've been a 2hr pleasant drive became a five-hour weekend killer.

You know what they say in statistics: Just because one thing is associated with another, doesn't mean it's causative. Just like jams and policemen. The police may not be present because of the jam, they may very well BE the cause of the jam.

Back to the nipple

I know they say the world is getting too plastic and automated. I know we are increasingly out of touch with nature and the raw experiences of life. With a steady diet of instant noodles, packeted fruit juice and encapsulated fish oils - we could do with a little splash in the mud of reality.

But there's a limit to going back to nature.

That limit is COLOSTRUM.

My dad's latest nutritional supplement obsession is just that. BOVINE COLOSTRUM. In case you don't know what that is, it's the sticky, semi-translucent, sanguine-colored discharge from a lactating mammal's nipples that precedes the flood of milk. It is packed with all kinds of proteins and immunoglobulins that give the tiny nipple-sucker a mega boost in protection in the hostile bug-infested world it has just entered.

I remember distincly my lecturer saying: 'Susu lembu itu untuk lembu, bukan untuk bayi kamu!' I even used that line in my final year exam, doing mock counseling for mothers. Today, I'm drinking bovine colostrum..

He has given me an entire bottle of vacuum-dried colostrum in powder form to take. My heart breaks to think of the hundreds of mother cows who gave up their precious fluids for that one bottle. It tastes no different from milk, and if I were to mix in coffee (which is the only way I can take it without a severe anti-peristalsis), you wouldn't know the difference. Heck, I could beat it and make waffles with it. But what kills me the most, is the image of a cow's nipples. Every time I drink it, I see pink cow's nipples and imagine I'm sucking on them.

God help me!

He is here

The 14th chapter of John's gospel has been the subject of great debate and great comfort to Christians for centuries.

Today it brings home basic realities for me.

He (the Spirit of God) is called the Counselor by Jesus - who sends Him in His place. He comes alongside us, to strengthen, to illumine and even to defend or convict us. He doesn't, as one might project from 20th century linguistics psychoanalyse us or give career guidance. In short He does in our hearts all that God - Father & Son - does, effecting their Presence in our lives.

Such knowledge is beyond reason, but immensely comforting. I am never alone. I always have a companion and a guide. Someone to walk the journey with.

A nurse said to me today: 'Dr. Yap memang suka jalan.' I walk a lot and I can walk for miles without realising I've covered half the city. The greater the distance, the better. Walking just gives me the feeling of journeying - how getting there isn't as important as the adventure. And you have to have good company - so if you don't like yourself very much and God isn't there with you, walking can be pretty lonely.

Yet, more than that, it also means I needn't flounder in search for direction and truth. Of course, one has to wander, search, even grope for light sometimes - but the Way is never far from us. Truth and a sense of where our lives ought to go is there as the Spirit is.

Knowing that is enough to keep me crying out in times of darkness and plodding on in times of lostness.

He is HERE as much as I am lost. And He is STRENGTH as much as I am helpless.

The little things

I envy those who can write incessantly on their blogs.

Weeks, months can pass for me when I feel I have absolutely nothing to say. Nothing of significance. Nothing to indicate the slightest growth in thinking or seeing. Nothing, I feel worth giving to the larger world. But am I right to feel this way? Perhaps it is the little things, the seemingly insignificant, the unremarkable that are the real building blocks of life. The things to appreciate and value.

I read that those who undergo major depression find it an immense challenge just to put food in their mouth or take a shower. When I am depressed, I can't find the strength to get up to go to work. To open a book to read. Or even say hello to a friend walking by. There is barely a will to go on living - only the compulsion of self-preservation to keep me going. Beset with such recurrent dips, even the slightest moments of relative freedom from unexplained sadness is great joy to me.

The slightest things.

To be able to think one's thoughts uninterrupted by anxiety attacks for the Obsessive-Compulsive. The taste of walking down the street freely for the political prisoner. Simplest things that we take foregranted if we had not first lost them. Such is the irony of living - we only treasure the things we have lost, and what we have we take foregranted and waste.

Sometimes the only thing to do is to look for the things of grace, the gifts of life and to summon all of one's soul to love it and cherish it. Even in its absence.

Are you lost?

Reviewing my goals today, it seems I've pretty much lost my way in life. I've forgotten the higher purposes and it's no wonder I wander aimlessly. To pursue God's heart, to be a friend and home to others, to be an exemplary physician, to be a scientist who merges science and spirit, to be a writer of Truth - these are among the things I cherish most in life.

Perhaps living in the city has been distracting. Tonight as I walked out to get my mamak fix of mi goreng and milo ais, I started to miss the Sarawak days (1999-2000). Quiet nights. Solitude. Strong mountain winds whistling hauntingly through the cracks. City life bombards you with a zillion demands, temptations and ought-tos. I miss the days when there's nothing to tell you what you should be, do, earn, own... When you are you and it's all that matters.

I have a beautiful home and beautiful wife. Stable job doing what I love. Lots of challenges, areas to serve and give. Meaningful relationships, surrounded by loving people. Nobody can tell me my life is lacking in any way. Nothing should stop me from giving my life wholeheartedly to the things I care about.

Sometimes I feel I want to live a more significant life. One with more contribution to society and such. But really, chasing after significance is like wanting to be rich. It's never enough! The best thing to do is to pursue what satisfies me and keeps me challenged.

I am confused by too many conflicting goals. I should do instead what will make me proud and satisfied at the end of my days here on earth, and 10,000 years to come. Seen from that perspective - values change. Convictions are what determine actions, worldview is what influences behavior. So what ARE those convictions? How DO I see the world and myself in it?

The End or the Beginning?

I sat in with a few medical students studying Phil 3:1-21 yesterday. Revisiting this passage I was struck by how Paul's perspective is deeply undergirded by the Resurrection. He has his death and what comes after firmly in vision.

To know that there is a new and glorious life beyond the grave should completely change the way we live and die.

Whenever Joan and I go on trips, the anticipation of the day before just kills us. Boarding the plane or train is filled with euphoria. And we just can't wait to be wowed by the exotic-ness of the place we're about to visit. Perhaps that's how death and dying should be - if I were to go with my faculties fully intact, there would be pain in leaving loved ones behind for sure, but there must also be great anticipation and excitement of going to a new and glorious place. All my journeys in life this side of heaven lead up to this ultimate journey.

Philip Yancey, in 'More than Words', comments on John Donne's life and writings: 'for Donne, death was always the Great Enemy to be resisted, not a friend to be welcomed.. the turning point came as he began to view death not as the disease that permanently spoils life, but rather as the only cure to the disease of life. For sin had permanently stained all life, and only through death - Christ's death and our own - can we realise a cured, sinless state.'

Death is not the end, but only the beginning.

My life on earth is dwarfed by the implications of eternity with God. All that I think, do, and experience here is but a prelude to the great symphony to be played out beyond the final horizon.

Tomorrow I will take my parents to a cemetery in PD to tidy up the burial grounds of my grandparents and pay respects. It's a good Chinese tradition to uphold (minus any ancestor worship.) I will look upon the tombstones and contemplate the lineage I have come from, the lives my predecessors have carved out for my existence today.. but more, so much more. Those tombstones will remind me of the final journey that I will also make some day.

Will I resist it or will I, like Paul, 'press on toward the goal.. which God has called me heavenward in Christ', 'to know Christ and the power of his resurrection.'

Agony and joy

At last! I have finished it!

I've been put to the task of writing an article for the Kairos magazine (Understanding the World Through Christian Eyes). My instruction - 1000 words on the Spirituality of Movies. The WHAT of movies?! You may ask..

My jaw-on-the-floor response exactly.

I didn't know where to begin, what to say, how to say it. Scribbling on my Palm, sweating on the bus, pacing in the mall, trying to mesh together unmeshable threads of thought. It was impossible. So, true to my procrastinating form, I could only get started after the deadline. Today, three weeks late, and hounded by the editor... I managed. Finally.

And I actually enjoyed writing it. I said things I never thought I would say, and I learnt a great deal just thinking through my own words. What can I say? The tough really gets going when the going gets tough. Only in the stress of being late, and the agony of putting one word ahead of the other, did the writing dam finally break.

Now I hope the editor doesn't chuck it back at me. But that would be ok too, because I enjoyed writing it. It was self-justifying for me.

No despair in dying

"There is no despair even in death where Hospis Malaysia is concerned. It’s all about providing dignity and comfort to the dying, and eventually healing to the family members" - Dr Ednin Hamzah

I am so deeply appreciative that there are people like Ednin Hamzah and his wonderful team who will embrace death and reclaim the dignity and importance of our final journey. I am reminded of Nouwen's thoughts on death - dying for others being the final and greatest gift in a life of giving.

It makes we wonder how I will die. What will be my regrets or even my hopes for those I leave behind? Will I look back on my life in satisfaction, or in regret and shame?

One foot ahead of the other

I'm obsessed. Since I lost enough weight to take the pain off of my knees, I've not stopped. I dread it before I begin. The first 10 minutes is excruciating. But once the rubber hits the road, there's just no stopping. This is one of the simplest and purest pleasures in life - I just can't do without it!

I will run just about anywhere. When I was living in Kubang Krian, the lalang-enfolded kampung trails were my track and field. Since moving to KL, the many parks with lakes and beautiful trees have been a joy to romp round. But my all time favorite run must be the one I did around the Sydney Darling Harbor on vacation there 2 weeks ago. (I have some shots to prove it!)



Starting at Pyrmont Bay, round the light house, across the Welcome Wall, down to Fox Studios, then back up and across the Pyrmont Bridge. And finally around the Cockle Bay Wharf to get back to the Bay again. A fantastic 3 mile-run with a view to boot.

I think I'm ready for some public runs now. Not competition speed yet. But just to get into the mass euphoria of going round the city. The next run coming up is the Hong Leong Charity run on 10th April at Dataran Merdeka. Hope to do that one, and maybe a couple more throughout the year. Training for them will be painful but fun, for sure. It's fantastic to see how one's performance improves with each run.

I think it's the powerful metaphor-for-life that running is that draws me to it so much. The dreaded anticipation, the fear of failure, the painful inertia, the uncertainty around each corner.. Will I make it? Can I finish? But once we get going - O this is too good to stop!

'Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.' - St. Paul

Drama of hope

Genesis 42-43 is a powerful buildup to the tear jerking reconciliation of brothers and the long orphaned Joseph with his embittered father.

The depth of guilt that haunts the brothers are revealed here. Surfacing, as it were, in the most appropriate time and place!

Jacob's unquenchable sorrow is also provoked here. As though to heighten the immensity of the coming moment.

This is stuff no soap opera can reproduce. A drama of whole generations coming to glorious climax.

Amid the mind-snapping tensions, Joseph flees to weep. To tremble on the vast pain and hope in his life now colliding on the ground of his already ravaged history. Pain on one hand (for his numerous betrayals, and separation from family), and hope on the other (for reunion and to take a step forward to the Promised Nation.)

Joseph, it isn't hard to extrapolate, is a powerful metaphor of Jesus and the Cross. And it isn't a stretch to identify with this man when in many trying episodes of our own lives - we are barely coping with the pain, but by God's grace it yields to hope which emboldens us to take a step forward.

Small steps forward

I am currently reading Yancey's 'More Than Words: Contemporary Writers on the Works That Shaped Them', and was delighted that the first chapter is written by Richard Foster. It's a trip back 10 years to the one person who started me on the journey of spiritual discovery.

As I read Foster, and his interaction with De Caussade, I am so struck by how they all teach and echo the same truth. From Nouwen to Merton, to Thich Nhat Hanh, all from different traditions and different times, but searching for truth in the same way. And arriving at the same conclusion: that truth, life, and even God can only be found in the present moment and in daily living.

I rejoice for this has been the joyful discovery (amid painful struggles) of the last half year. Against my activistic church upbringing and the obvious disapproval of many close friends, it has been difficult to cutback, downsize, and disappear into anonymity.

Foster declares we have a 'duty to the present moment as the place where (we) find God'. Indeed, there is no other place to be. I am learning that we cannot be fully alive dwelling in the unchangeable past or fretting over the unknowable future. And only inasmuch as we are in the present are we able to encounter God who is in the here and now.

Foster also affirms my commitment to ordinariness - shunning special positions and spectacular projects - for 'right where we are is holy ground, in the families we have been given, in the tasks we are assigned, among our neighbours and friends.' I am learning that there is joy in ordinary living - watering the plants, riding the train, chatting up a taxi driver, a leisurely lunch with colleagues, simple conversations. In each moment the holiness within everything and everyone can emerge if we would sit back and allow it to. Watch for it with the simple ease of not trying too hard to do anything - but receiving graciously and giving spontaneously.

The beauty of such living - in the present, and in ordinariness - is the joy that fills it. I am at such ease, and can be present to anyone at any time with a natural joy. How else can we bless people if we do not safeguard our inner joy? Again, Foster affirms this self-sustaining and self-justifying way of living: 'it is this that makes life bearable,.. enjoyable. It enables us to walk cheerfully over the earth!'

If I were to describe the biggest steps I've made (baby steps as it were) over the past half year, they would be:
1. A commitment to the Ordinary Life - embracing the stuff of daily living, encountering God in the day to day
2. A dedication to the Mindful Life - returning to the present moment, encountering God in the here and now
3. A return to Authenticity - recovering a self minus the play-acting of multiple roles, relating to God from who I am

A Free Man Indeed

My daily reading of the Bible has reached Gen 41. It's the point where Joseph is at last remembered and vindicated, now to a position of unimaginable height for a Hebrew slave in Egypt. It seems his life thus far has been a roller-coaster ride of intermittent dissapointments interspersed by fleeting deliverances, only to be thrown in the mud again and again.

Anyone having been dealt such an appalling hand in life would not be faulted for resentment and rebellion. Sold out by his own blood, jailed for his sexual integrity and loyalty to his boss, forgotten by recepients of his undeserved grace.

Indeed even the most moderate of sociopaths invariably have a history of protacted abuse during which his/her belief in the intrinsic goodness of mankind and the world is systematically raped. But not Joseph.

In spite of life's 'unfair hand' Joseph has kept his integrity and his faith. And even manages to be a blessing wherever he lands up. In captivity, in servitude, or in jail - he continues to bring value to his station in life. How does he do it? Wherefrom is this ability to see the big picture and believe in the significance of his role in God's plan? How does fading memories of childhood stories and idyllic dreams sustain a man through such hardening experiences?

Or could it be that the very crushing of a man yields the sweetest hope and grace? That in 'losing his life' he has gained it? By embracing death do we begin to live. In servanthood we have complete freedom. In letting go I have hands to receive.Egotism and ambition razed to the ground, he has escaped from the prison of self a free man - free from the fleshly compulsions and worldly attachments.

I wonder..

It seems life's harshest circumstances will inevitably have profound effects on our lives - but they certainly don't take away our ability to choose what they do for us.

Dangers of pedestalisation

I'm currently on a self-declared sabbatical from formal church/parachurch responsibilities.

I need it badly.

Taking on too many leadership roles for too long corrupts the way you think/feel/act.

After a while you begin to believe (perhaps subconsciously) that you have all the answers. You are constrained to think in a politically correct way, act in a manner befitting and exemplary as a leader, and you stop asking really important existential questions. The pedestal you put yourself on is a spiritually stunting place and a trap for self-righteousness.

The moment I take up something this 'leader complex' creeps back in. And a thousand other compulsions and false sense of righteousness associated with it.

Let me first be ME. A human being, trying to reclaim a wholesome life, relating to a holistic God and all of the world - people, nature, myself and others. I must say NO, withdraw from substitutes for REAL spiritual living in the ordinary life.

I want to stay away as much as possible from all things institutional and organisational. From all things hierarchical and human-worshipping.

Honestly, I feel so much more real, so human, so complete and aware of my incompleteness WITHOUT church/parachurch responsibilities

Even the land rests

The closing of 2 Chronicles is amazing. The Chronicles were written to restore identity to a rootless generation. The two volumes pressed home the message in numerous examples that the only way to live in God's benevolent reign is by trust and obedience. To their peril, Israel failed mostly. Violently and humiliatingly sacked to non-existence, at the end of the kings' reign - the chronicler points out that their 70 years of non-existence was the Sabbath rest the land never got. The land finally got to rest. Rest from what? From evil, from sin, from wars, fightings within and without, from greed and idolatry. Rest.

Rest is an intrinsic law of the Universe. A rhythm that can only be violated to our peril. And if only to teach us that, God Himself rests! Why should he ever NEED to rest? But that's the whole point. The point of rest is not so that we can work. The chief aim of rest is not work! The aim of rest is to detach us from work - so that it does not BECOME our life, that it doesn't overwhelm us, that we don't place the seat of meaning and identity in it. But that work is work, and rest is rest. Rest is for itself. It is a self-justifying institution.

There is no rest without time, space and silence from the mind and heart's frantic voicings. There is no agenda in rest. For rest to be rest and has to have no point. It is about simply being. Being with myself. With God. With nature. With one another. But there are no goals, no aims, no parameters. Just simply rest.

The ending chapters in Revelations is such a rest. When we are surrounded by the fruits of the tree of life. Eternity in every moment. The way it was in the beginning.

Church in any form

I've been trying to follow some movements on the Internet such as the Emergent Church and House Church. And I'm excited about this new wave of rediscovering what life in the Body of Christ can and should be.

I identify with and give two thumbs up for any movement that tries to:
1. Undo divisions and reclaim unity among believers
2. Reclaim authenticity of the individual and stop role-playing/play-acting in churches
3. Minimise institutional structure to allow maximum spontaneity and relationships
4. Recovers ONE unified life under ONE God of all things from our fragmented and dichotomised living


Roger in Housechurch Blog asks:
What is “the church?” Can I live the Kingdom life without the institution? What does this look like?

Fredrik in freddyblog answers, 'I absolutely think we can, but I have no idea how it looks like. I feel comfortable about not knowing it. We don’t have to know. We just have to trust and live.'

Whichever way people go - it is authentic Body Life that we must live out. I think it matters little if we did it/found it IN A church or outside of one. Wherever we are and with whomever we are we must BE the Church.

Redo Hair Day

I hustled my wife into a total hair job today. She's been so harassed and dehumanized at work lately I decided she needed something drastic - like straighten her curls and add some color to it!

We were at the saloon till long after closing time. My job? Take photos and keep a steady supply of ice cream and food. Just to keep her distracted.. Heh.

She still can't get over the total makeover.. I think she looks terrific!

But now all the male colleagues at work are offering to take her out for lunch and finish her chores for her... Great! Talk about the power of new hair!

Hospitality on the Blogosphere

I reread 'Lost in the Sea of Change' - one of my earliest pieces in which I wrote, 'All of us need people who will listen and offer others a ‘free and fearless space’ to be. When we accept each other and affirm God’s unconditional love, we can discover and pursue our true needs with confidence. Only then can we all make choices and commitments that are right and true to our heart’s cry'

Blogging has changed community and the art of connecting completely. Take a look at Messy Christian or Irene Q Unravelled and you'll know what I mean. Blogs have become places for self-discovery, journalling and above all - conversation.

And it's wonderful! There's an unstated understanding that a blog is like a home - the writer speaks his mind and heart and guests listen and respond with their own thoughts and experiences. Sometimes very thoughtfully, sometimes tongue-in-cheek. But always with respect for each other's space and place in their journey.

That's hospitality at its best - being a home and safe place for one another. Places where we can ask the unaskable and think the unthinkable. And maybe somewhere along the threads of mystery we all weave, truth will show itself to us.

Conversations with Thich Nhat Hanh

I've been reading with much joy Thich Nhat Hanh's book - Living Buddha, Living Christ. I know many well-meaning Christians would call me a heretic and burn me at the stake for even mentioning that I do (read a Buddhist monk's work.)

But he is a beautiful man with a beautiful mind. I am humbled by how insightfully he understands the Christian faith and teaches me to revere God and cherish my own spirituality more. What I would give to have a conversation with the man! Well, next to actually having one - this is what I would say if I had a chance to respond to him from him from his book...

TNH: When mindfulness is present,.. the Holy Spirit (is) already there.
YY: So true - when I live in the moment, in the here and now (not in the past or future), space is immediately opened up for God to come and dwell with us. God can only come to us in the present. The question is are we (present?). But we have to be ourself to be present. Most of the time we are someone else, someplace else, and in some other time!

TNH: ..we can put it (bread) in our mouth and chew with real awareness, not chewing anything else, such as our thoughts, our fears, or even our aspirations... this way, every meal is the Last Supper.
YY: Exactly! I've secretly practiced that - 'eating' Jesus in every meal (when I remember!). The exercise of eating is a spiritual one - always receiving in gratitude and not in greed.

TNH: The body of Christ is the body of God,.. of ultimate reality, the ground of all existence. We do not have to look anywhere else for it. It resides deep in our own being.
YY: Yes. How far must we wander to find Him who is already in us? We look for Him in service, in activism, in worship experiences - when we need only return to the here and now where He is waiting all along!

TNH: ..when Jesus broke the bread and poured the wine, He said, 'This is my body. This is my blood. Drink it, eat it, and you will have life eternal. It was a drastic way to awaken His disciples from forgetfulness.'
YY: It was also another graphic way of making the point that we must receive His sacrifice fully into ourselves to be a part of Him. He said, 'unless I wash your feet, you have no part in me.' Pride also keeps us from encountering God.

TNH: 'I am afraid this criterion (of believing in the resurrection) may discourage some people from looking into the life of Jesus.
YY: That is true.. We should not make believing in a creed an obstacle to encountering Jesus. Rather when one has touched the Living God - the resurrected Jesus is obvious to him. The creed is only an affirmation of that experience not the road to it!

TNH: We.. see... nonduality in God the Son and God the Father because without God the Father within Him, the Son could never be.
YY: Yes we often fail to see the whole Trinitarian God for the individual. The inter-being in the One God who is three is the source of all relationship and inspires us to achieve at-one-ment with self, others, creation and God. By drawing us to Himself, He mends our splintered lives and makes us One again.

TNH: Jesus lived exactly as He taught, so studying the life of Jesus is crucial to understanding His teaching.
YY: His life illustrates his teaching, and He spoke only from His own life. In the same way our lives must match our words, and we should only speak from our own experience. How easy it is to get carried away with empty rhetoric that are born out of insecurity and ambition rather than humble self knowledge.

TNH: Society is changing, people are changing, economic and political conditions are not the same as they were in the time of... Jesus.. (We need to) continue to develop as a living organism.
YY: The new movements of the Church often become the stale structures and shackles of the generation that inherits it. Cell groups helped rediscover dynamic living in the Body but today they feel more like prison cells - lacking in authenticity and spontaneity. Every generation must be brave to reinvent the way they live the spiritual life in order to remain fluid and organic - not static and lifeless.

SALIVATE!

Ever tasted something SoOOO good you felt the whole world should know about it?

Ever had a craving for that special something and just didn't know where to get it?

I've started a place for food lovers in Malaysia (wait a minute - that's the entire population) who can't get enough of it (just to make sure nobody feels marginalised here) and just want to share the good news with all the world. Come over and vote for your favorite food spots here.

Go to SALIVATE

It's Federal Day!

How wonderful to have a public holiday in the middle of the week like that. Almost like a second chance for a Sunday that wasn't quite a Sunday last Sunday.

And well deserved too! All you non-FT-ites should not be jealous or complain. We in KL deserve at least ONE DAY off for all the time we waste away crawling in traffic.

The day's been wonderful. Slept in late, had a couple of coffees, caught up on reading and dialysed my fish tank. I swear the color is brown from uremia! Decided I had some time to experiment with food - grilled some chicken tenders marinated with Italian dressing and covered with bread-crumbs. Was yummy! Ate it with my own invention of pumpkin & sunflower seed bread, which, ahem was also scrumptious.

Oh and to top it off, it rained gloriously the whole afternoon, bringing our scorching temperature down a few notches. Only when I finally crawled out of the house to drive around did I realise it had stormed and blown off half of KL's tree tops!

Chronicling the Journey

I have journals stacked up from when I was 13. Till I went paperless with my first PC and then the Palm, pen and paper was the only way to bring the deeper currents of life to the light. Today, journalling for me is a matter of scribbling on my Palm and reviewing them on the Desktop later. It's an exercise of ventilation and of making sense of the journey.

Chuck Swindoll himself has this to say: "I have been journaling for years, and the benefits are more than most would believe. A journal is a splendid way to spend time alone remembering and recording God’s dealings in my life. When I enjoy solitude, it is easy to think that those insights He reveals will stay in my mind forever. Not so. It isn’t long before they are submerged under my daily load of responsibilities and conversations."

He also shares some tips in an article on the Internet:

'As you record your experiences in your own words, you'll begin to see God's purpose working itself out in both times of peace and turmoil. Looking back over the pages, you'll see His hand in decisions made and paths taken.

As you begin your record of God's faithfulness, here are some hints to keep your journal fresh:

Write in it often. But don't feel obligated to make it a daily discipline. Some days you'll have a lot to write about. Other times, you will only need to scribble a few lines.
Keep it private. It's OK to keep this a dialogue between you and God. You'll find greater freedom to express your private struggles, and victories if no one else is going to read it.
Give yourself plenty of time. Writing brings things to mind that weren't necessarily there when you sat down. Deep spiritual insights take deep prayer and thought.
Remember that your life is significant. When you're tempted to think, "I don't have anything to write," write anyway. Your life and times are more significant than you realize. You never know how important your experiences will become.

As in any spiritual discipline, time and commitment are essential to establish the pattern of journal keeping. As this exercise becomes a natural part of your devotional life, you'll cherish both the process and record of walking with God.'

It's true that the real story only comes to light over days, weeks, even months. Every day is like a story within a larger story that is ever growing.

I envy the Abrahams and Noahs of the Old Testament. Their faith was raw and alive. They had a spirituality and community that doesn't have to be politically correct and is not artificially tied up to any institution, structure or code. Out in the desert, under the star-strewn sky, with no church, no bible, no written code. Only a heart hungering for meaning, a God to walk and talk with, all on a journey with friends - on a road travelled behind and a road unseen ahead.

Journalling is unravelling mystery. Journalling is experiencing life and God in our lives in the world that matters - the raw and real stuff of daily living.

Among Friends

I've just returned from a weekend trip to Kota Bharu. Students there had invited me to meet with them to discuss issues about Cell Groups in their student fellowship. That and an afternoon with graduating students to talk about preparing for their housemanship was the 'official' reason for my trip.

Official or not, all I intended was to meet with friends. And that I did with a minimum agenda and no expectations.

With Yoke Li & Hui Jin over noodles & coffee, hanging around after a church service, dialog with 15-odd leaders over CG issues, long conversations with my old friend Meng Hun, and an afternoon with final years in McDonald's - all were wonderful conversations. I have been deeply blessed by so much honesty and openness. Challenged by their willingness to ask difficult questions that have no answers. Humbled by their deep love for one another and for God.

My life is enriched by the intersection of so many journeys - each of us finding our own way to be true to self and God. I've learnt far more than anything I had to give.

My personal discovery is that the key to unlocking deeper connection is only this - an inner dialog. We cannot dialog honestly with others without an ongoing dialog with ourselves. We can only connect with others authentically when we are in touch with our true feelings. And we can find peace with others when we are at peace with ourselves. When we relate in this way, we are able to respond with true understanding and we are deeply enriched and renewed by every encounter.

TIME OUT!

Whoa! Stress & depression rears ugly head today.

The week has been steadily draining me. A couple of marathon lectures to take, an intricate surgery in the neck of a patient, and an ugly car accident and all the procedures that follow (police report, claims, etc. etc.)

Time to call for a TIME OUT! TRUCE. Ceasefire. Moratorium. Whatever.

No to winning fights. Nobody can win here. No to getting my opinion across. Nobody cares.

No to doing trying to achieve anything in coming trip to KB. The best I can do is be myself.

I must tell myself this - I have nothing to gain being fretful or pained or upset. And I have nothing to lose even if the world rejects and loses faith in you.

It's a good place to be - clutching on to nothing & having nothing to lose.

That's what letting go really means. Not holding on or being held by anything. That is real freedom.

Knock down to rise again

It's the weekend after a pretty high-stress week. Between lectures, track running and some late-night surgery, I've hardly had time for a breather and time for reflection and BE-ing. So I decided to make some bread (?!). Armed with flour, yeast, and a sprinkling of condiments - I am ready to create!

The machine did the kneading and knocking down. All I had to do was let it rise nicely, throw over a bunch of oats, pumpkin seeds and sesame and place the glob of dough into the oven. Then pray it rises nicely and brownly.

It's fantastic to watch yeast do its work, with a little help of heat to raise that lump of flour into a fresh and tasty loaf. It's also a nice way to celebrate the day off.. Now I can sit back, read a little, catch a snooze, and take in the agenda-lessness of the day while my bread browns and releases its fragrance to every corner of the house! yummy!

Making peace with self

I was asked to lead a home group recently and I said yes, almost without thinking. A couple of week's later I did the most difficult thing (for me, at least) - say 'NO'. I probably have enough challenges in terms of 'ministry' but it isn't that.

I need to fiercely guard my core life - having empty space and time to be. Time to come home to self and God. Time to live in the moment - aware and mindful of the present moment. Being holy as God is holy, being peace.

The larger world is my true ministry. To give of myself to all the world and also be enriched by it. To enter fully into relationship with man and nature. In so doing learning from all the world and recovering my fragmented self.

In order to be PRESENT - to self, others and God - I cannot live in a clutter of commitments and responsibilities. Each task is a voice calling me this way and that (truly like a schizophrenic and his auditory hallucinations.) Tracting to the what if's of the future & ought to's of the past. Anxiety and regret robs us from the joy of the present.

I have damaged myself so horribly in the past by taking on commitments to the max, using every minute to the fullest, driving down life's road like an F1 racer. I have used and abused myself with no regard for my soul & spirit. I have made myself an empty shell of fears, regrets, anxiety, pain and frustration.

I need to make peace with myself.

Call of the hills

My 6 months of allowed 'adjustment period' is coming to an end. And I think it really is. It's finally sunken in that I'm hear to stay. In the heart of this ultra-urban, time-squeezed, smog-choked city of stone I will make my abode. But what has also sunken in, is that I can choose how to live. I will go on whining like everybody else about how bad is traffic and how expensive is food & parking but it doesn't mean I cannot find beauty in this place.

One 'call' I've harkened to, is the call of the hills. All this while I've been looking in the direction of the city, trapped by it. Hating it yet unable to escape it. Running out of it as quickly as I can, yet returning to it again and again. Until I finally tore away and took a look in the other direction... And lo and behold, what do I see? Right in my backyard, are the highlands that makes KL a valley.

The Titwangsa Range descending into its southern tip, yielding its heights right east of the city.

The path from Pandan/Ampang to the foothills of Gunung Nuang is but 22km away. To the Gabai waterfall, 25km. Just 10km up is the lookout point where you can catch the city blanketed under a thick smog just before you leave it behind and ascend into the lush rainforest. I've started mapping out the trails, orchards, rivers and cascades. Bit by bit, I am going where the road leads, and where there is no road.

This journey of discovery has just begun. Many secrets of the forest, many treasures of the wild, remain to be found. Thank God for these pockets of nature I can retreat into every so often - to regain my sanity, restore a vision of beauty, and reinstill solitude within.

I lift up my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from?

The call of family

In the matter of discovering calls, one voice that resounds clearly is the call to family. I've sacrificed relationships for far too long over the past 12 years of medical studies. Throughout my academic llife, meetings with family and friends had to be planned way ahead of time. Scheduled, fitted in to my diary. Time for hanging out was scarce and rationed.

It's a terrible way to live when time for people have to give way to exams and work. It's a tragedy that most of us have to 'earn' the privilege of having time for others. It's a worse tragedy if even having arrived at a point in life when you HAVE the time you decide to squander it chasing after the next thing, the next rung in the ladder of wealth, fame and power.


It has to end somewhere. It's time to say NO, to STOP the endless spiral and choose people.

Returning to KL has given me and Joan a lot more time with our parents than we've spent in the last 10 years or so. We're making up for all the time lost. Sure, there's the adjustment problems - parents need to revise their chronological assessment of us - we're not the 18yr olds we were when we left home anymore. And we need to adjust too - they are no longer tyrants whose every word is a commandment to be obeyed but beautiful people who need our love and companionship as much as we need their guidance and affirmation of our adulthood.

I look forward to every visit home to either of our parents. And it's not just the lip-smackingly good food our mothers unfailingly whip up. It's just being with them. The moments are precious. I am constantly reminded that we don't have our parents forever, and each day with them is to be treasured. So little food-hunting trips, visits to the park together, and lots of time lounging around at home has been heart-warming and refreshing for us. I wish we had more time!

Starting over

Moving back to KL has been a difficult experience. It's ALWAYS difficult for me moving from one place to another. I remember coming home to KL in 1997 after graduating, and then to Sibu in 1999, back to KB in 2000, and now full circle back to KL last May.

Every move has been wrought with adjustment woes.

I spend the first 6 months or so hating the place, missing the familiarity of the old, irritated by everyone I come across, and wishing I was someplace else. The food was better, the people were friendlier, and life was a whole lot better 'back then' somehow. (What? The food was better in Kelantan than in KL? Are you kidding?!) OK, OK I know this is totally irrational. I can't explain it, but moving ALWAYS makes me depressed.

I've put on 6kgs since coming back - that's a sure sign of depression for me!


Maybe I have the tendency to anchor too deeply wherever I berth. And being uprooted & translocated leaves me, well, rootless and flailing, grasping for some stability and security. Basically I'm a creature of familiarity and habit. I need a place to crawl home to and take refuge. Believe that the world is essentially ok.

But it's a challenge isn't it? Following the lead of Jesus in Scripture, has always been an adventure of change. Nothing is promised - and certainly not constancy or familiarity - except His presence and guidance. All may change. Everything can go wrong. Everyone can turn against you. But the one thing that should matter most, can never change.

So while I must give myself the time to 'acclimatise' emotionally, I also have a hope. That the same God goes with me and the excitement of proving the goodness of His ways awaits every nervous step forward.

The Vicious Cycle

Depression is a terrible thing. And I'm learning to read the signs.

First I'll start craving for food I don't need and eating way out of control. Then I look for things to spend money on, crawling through the shopping mall.

Next I oversleep. Before I know it, I can't get out of bed, I can't start work in the morning, I'll overdose on coffee for the kickstart, which makes me more tired and unable to work. And so the vicious cycle continues... till something dangerous or damaging happens. People closest to me suffer the most.

Reading Archibald Hart's 'Unmasking Male Depression' has given me some insight. Before I wouldn't realise I was blue/depressed until I reached my worst. At least now I can stop myself and ask, 'Why am I overeating? Why am I sleeping so much? Am I depressed? What's going on here?' and take a first step towards healing. Nip it in the bud. Deal with the problem before it spirals out of control.

I have a long way to go in learning how to manage stress and emotions. But it's a journey worth taking.

Observing my cycles of depression, a clear pattern emerges. There is always a protracted period of stress/overwork and disregard for planned rest and reflection. Interestingly, procrastinating on work that has been planned also results in the same pit of depression. The rhythm of work and rest cannot be violated. It's true that I can't rest until I've fully worked, nor can I work without having fully rested.

Life can be a joyful balance of both work and rest, the joys of each flowing into each other. What a joy it is to learn this.

Longest 5 minutes of my life

Had my OGDS (oesophagoduodenoscopy) today. The gastroenterologist offered me sedation, but an upsurge of heroism seized me.

'I should feel what it's like for other patients. I'll tough it out,' I said courageously.

'Great!' he said and proceeded to shove a rubber hose down my throat. I gagged and retched furiously for a half minute while his assistants pinned me down, cheek flat against the sheets and mouth puckering like a goldfish. He ignored my frantic gestures that were supposed to convey, 'Pull the damned thing out you...'

Of course, like I would do with my own patients, he watched me retch, writhe and groan for a few minutes to finally ease into acceptance. After a while it simply felt like, well.. there's nothing quite like it. Deftly my innards were viewed on technicolor, photographed and biopsied. Lovely. All it took was the longest five minutes of my life!

I left chirpily with a sore throat, a photograph of my stomach and the reassurance that, 'Except for a few erosions in the antrum, there's no ulcer. Continue the medication you're taking for another 6 weeks and you'll be fine.'

Sometimes treatment of our illnesses is worse than the disease itself.

Choose what is better

Wow. It's been 2 and a half months since the last journal entry.

So much has happened, I can barely catch my breath, much less pause to make sense of anything.

Where have I been? What have I learnt? What's next for me? What do I need to do? So many questions.

I'm reeling trying to orientate myself. But maybe what I need isn't more questions.. but real answers from above.

I, of all people need to hear Jesus' invitation to Martha : 'Yoke Yeow, you are worried and upset about many thing but only one thing is needed. Choose what is better, and it will not be taken away from you.'

It's OK to let go. I give myself permission. If just to sit for awhile.

At Your feet, Jesus.

Living on the edge

I'm a sucker for torture. This year was supposed to be the 'honeymoon' year of my 4-year Masters' program. But I couldn't handle the honeymooning. I was growing sedentary, a little retarded mentally and knew I had to do something before I grew pressure sores. So I enrolled for external exams.

'Are you nuts?' Most people would ask. 'You are really bizarre. People study for exams, you take exams to study!''

I am insane aren't I?

So here I am, a month exactly from doomsday, wondering if my head's screwed on right. I count the reality - one hundred topics and 29 days to go. The files and books are stacked ever higher, dwarfing my shrinking confidence. Laugh. I AM mad. But hey, what's life without a little dare and madness?

The correct term for this, I am told, is brinkmanship. I have cultivated (according to Merriam-Webster's dictionary) 'the practice of pushing a dangerous situation to the limit of safety to force a desired outcome.'

And what is my desired outcome? Passing the darned exams, certainly. But I hope this race does more for me than push through a self-imposed finish line. Sharper eyes, better hands, quicker thinking, and overall a better understanding of learning.

And a little excitement on the side.

Wish me luck, guys. And don't try this at home without clearance from your personal physician.

Spilling my guts

I have no doubt in my mind that confession is essential for salvation (read healing).

A biblical injunction. In Leviticus, when a guilty person goes to the priest to have his sins atoned, he must first 'confess in what way he has sinned.' John the Baptist insisted on his baptismees publicly repenting of their sins before going under. James tells us to 'confess.. that we may be healed.'

This is surgical therapy at its best.

Confession is like an incision that gives access to the surgeon to get at the vicious tumor of guilt and shame. God's scalpel of deliverance radically excises whatever bitter roots that lurk within. Before it erodes into our joy, spontaneity and freedom to be.

The simple act of spilling guts flings wide open the floodgates of God's forgiveness and acceptance, secured already by His atoning sacrifice on the Cross. I have far more to gain acknowledging my shameful deeds than live in the tragic imprisonment of false righteousness.

Giving myself away

A friend confessed to me today her passion and heartfelt calling to write. She just can't start. 'Inferiority complex' was a major obstacle for her.

I understand fully.

Oh yes, I cringe every time I read my own writings. Other writers never fail to impress (and intimidate) me. I wait eagerly for responses and think I'll never write again when the mailbox is empty. But I've realized that as long as my writing is a means of proving my worth or gaining approval, I will always be paralyzed by that fear of rejection. (And then another month will pass with no updates to the Tent!)

I remain convicted that writing is primarily for me. It helps me to be fully human. After all, when we write we inadvertently express life as we have experienced, or as we hope for it to be. We explore our deepest emotions, discern the motion of our lives, and ever so often get glimpses of God's presence there.

Two writing experts. Deena Metzger says, 'Honor the process.' Nancy Aronie says, 'trust the harmony.. and believe that your own wisdom and nature will kick in when they are invited as equal partners.' So I must take time to let it grow, like the brewing of soup and all its elements.

And there's also the element of being laid bare. Being exposed for all to scorn and mock.

Dorothy Day says, 'writing... is hard because you are "giving yourself away." But if you love, you want to give yourself. You write as you are impelled to write, about man and his problems, his relation to God and his fellows. You write about yourself, his human needs of sustenance and love. Because in the long run all man's problems are the same.'

Thank you, Dorothy. For reminding me that such risks are the only way to grow. Because giving that holds back and hides is not giving at all. No one is touched. We are not brought closer together. I guess 'giving yourself away' is the only true gift. Both for the giver and the given.