Mastering Montages

How sweet the smell of verdant grass,
and water in between;
The latter sprinkles life and zest,
the former things unseen.

--EHC

So apparently I entered preschool not knowing any English. I cried for a week, says Mums. I think it was queries and conversation amongst refugees and volunteers at the IRC a few weeks ago that fished this previously forgotten thought out of the depths, allowed it to surface.

Last week, I was outside in the yard imagining how in a week or so I'd be in Boston, staring up at the night sky, and by then I wouldn't be able to come back to SJ like *that* or anything.. it was a sobering thought. All things large and small come to mind when one fixes his gaze upon the firmaments and marvels at their reflective glory.

I was thinking about the different paths that people take after high school, roads that seem to continously diverge and meander in unexpected ways until they're so branched out one can hardly trace one to another. But we're all strung together by a common thread, are we not? A solid thread of glowing gold. The good-byes to people you expect to see again relatively soon, the good-byes to people you don't (know if you can) expect to see for some time, and the good-byes to people you don't expect to ever again on this earth see -- each carries a different weight and tone.

Life and faith, both can be complicated. Yet their essences waft simplicity. Notwithstanding, is it not better and more personally rewarding to actively wrestle with questions than to shuffle through the frames desultorily?

Can you mark out your moment in the montage of man? in that of his maker?

to know one's heart

photo courtesy of nathanphua

Last week this day, I was amused to realize a minute after I'd picked out a red t-shirt and white shorts that the date was that of SG's National Day. Hah.

- - -

Why does He love us so much, even after we mess up time and again?
How does He love us so much, even after we mess up time and again?

Rhetorical, unfathomable, indescribable.

Plaque and grime -- > time to scrub, time to clean.

From the depths of the sea

the starting of the action is most difficult. inertia, opposite of momentum. i know i cannot start alone, yet why try? i don't understand the reluctance to compact and package. i do prefer to leave things open, to leave threads hanging, but i know there needs a guide. cannot i? without it i remain mired, gasping for air in a place i chose to step. but overcoming does not necessarily lead to life, not adversity to deliverance and growth. there is life in overcoming, deliverance and growth in adversity. learn, internalize, remember.

some things that seem harmless can be actually the opposite if not utilized well. for example, the past few weeks i've been spending time browsing through items of lesser importance, rather than focusing on higher goals that ultimately mean so much more. i realize that i am sinking, and i know i can grab onto a life vest, or even just start paddling, flailing my arms around widely, something. i know i can be rescued if only i cry out.

but 我開不了口。我真的開不了口。想開口的時候，i feel like, why bother? and i really mean that in the literal sense of the word. why bother Him, who must/could be so exasperated with a volitional failing such as mine? even though He's patient. i know.

perhaps the flaw here is in the "i know," the claim that supposedly affirms i was of compos mentis while making such decisions, or while allowing such things to happen. obviously.. i wasn't, right? at least, not in the highest and purest sense of the word. otherwise, all this wouldn't have occured, would it?

and so we begin.

Tamen per fidelitas, He continues to show grace, though. just about every time i look at RBC's My Utmost for His Highest, it's just what i need. it really is...just what i need.