To me, bliss is spending the lazy afternoon having tea with the people I love. Other times, I'll gladly settle for a cup of black tea and a good read...:)
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"When my grandmother got arthritis,
she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore.
Was trying to tell Benaiah to be safe if ever the helper tries to harm him. But I guess it is impossible to speak in codes to a child. Mummy: Benaiah, if anything happened , please run to the neighbour to get help. Benaiah: huh? What? Mummy: Like in an emergency? Benaiah: Like a fire? Mummy: yeah, something like that. Or maybe like if somebody is trying to harm you. Benaiah in all seriousness: Like a real lion in the house?
For most part of my life that I have cognition, I live with the fear of death. Not my death but death of loved ones. It has been so long, I have more or less just resigned to living with it. I had vague memory that even as a child, I would cry thinking about the death of my parents. I would go to their bedside and cry while they were sleeping. Now that I think about it, could it be some shows that I have watched because I do recall sobbing uncontrollably over the death of fictional characters in the drama. At the same time I was afraid of ghosts and spirits. I was healed as a youth during an encounter retreat. The facilitator asked me when did I start to be afraid of ghosts and spirits and I said it was attending my first Christian wake as a child when I viewed a dead body for the first time. The facilitator then led me in prayer and since that day, I am no longer afraid of such and was able to be alone in the night. But still the fear of death of loved ones did not leave me...
During Tuesday life group, a recently married young lady mentioned that she is somewhat of a feminist and struggles with the issue of submitting to her husband. The issue is a complicated one. Firstly, the discourse on feminism is dynamic and many a time laced with emotions. Secondly, the idea of biblical submission is probably not studied or misunderstood. Lastly, one may not really be a feminist or had a submission issue, the root lies somewhere else. Interestingly, I had on a few occasions been described as a submissive wife although I do not want to probe on the definitions by the people who paid me the compliment/criticism. What they do not know is if they had met the undergraduate me, they would probably think otherwise. The excitement of undergraduate life, the newfound independence and arts education had thrown me into a period of questioning, tears and anger. I had to come face to face on whether my religion is just a clutch, an opium for the society. I do not know ...
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