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I’m trying to recall a conversation from tonight

May 21, 2015

That… it’s about faith, and trusting in His promise that… I won’t die, even if I feel like I can’t make it. 

Every day, I pray to keep my eyes on today, to be able to live day by day, instead of projecting futures I cannot control, … I don’t ask to be taken out of the situation, but for God to be with me, and I commit the day to him. It’s so simple… (but) it’s the best I’ve got. 

Sometimes, … if I were to put it in a picture, I feel like the future is me stepping into the stuff that makes roads, tar, and entirely submersed; stepping into an olympic sized pool of tar and I’m just asking God to be with me. 

I guess it’s about the frameworks of fear and faith. When I think of the worst scenarios, fears rises and clouds my eyes, and when I see through it things look so dreadful and I get so down. But when I turn my eyes towards faith, sometimes I – there’s even a possibility of excitement – but fear comes so easily.

Just this morning, I was doing my quiet time, and suddenly – I guess maybe – it was God – who spoke to my thoughts and said, ‘Look around you. Just look around and see what I’ve provided’. And outside my window is a screen of trees, and behind those trees run a creek. And I realised, you know, God provided for me in Perth when I had nothing back in Singapore before I came; he provided accommodation with a lovely family- I didn’t even know where I’d be staying when I came – and a church we love. And I guess when I looked around me I felt almost sheepish. And maybe God’s like… yeah… (laughs). Yeah… he can provide for me in France, too, if we go there.

I reckon… It’s about God, not me…

Not me trying to save myself from the horrors of the exactitude of the unknown, and even that changes its face when met with equanimity and courage. Three times today I questioned myself in front of others the change that came after marriage. Even accounting for attachment and oneness that ought not be put asunder, where has my fearlessness gone? When was it replaced with cower?

Driving home with the mood of the conversation still upon me, I might have remembered a few lines I wrote in 2010 whilst preparing for the solo part of my grad trip. Essentially, it was a pre-travel measure of who I was, and an honest one – and I knew I would not fall short of what it took to realise a fortnight on my own in a foreign land, weakness in detail (n) and all. And if I, my father’s daughter, have still got his guts and grit, I can do much more than this.

Through this framework, then, even the stressors of figuring out the details (confessed weakness) of which mode of transport I would choose, the very real possibilities of his being confined (many times I think of writing an essay to the SAF asking the wisdom behind their practices), who would meet when, where and how, driving 1200+ km every weekend to see him + the earlier fears of navigating a land whose language I do not speak, loneliness, marriage, and all – these simply become factors to be sorted through, and settled when met. Hi, detail of the weekend, how shall we decide this? A specific question which can be answered with enough knowledge from research.

I need not fear. I am my father’s x2 daughter. I have my heritage of guts and grit, zest and nose for adventure. Pah, who is this whimpering child? Both my fathers’ blessings go with me – and they are a power I would not underestimate.

Maybe this has been too frank a disclosure, too unabashed a talk. But if I could mourn openly at the beginning of the year, why would I not post my victories?

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