Lights shine a little brighter on darker days.


wrestling with words

My prayer is that as we let the melodies of our lives be written by God, the tune of His heart will be heard so clearly by the family and friends around us. When given the opportunity to testify of our faith, may we be so caught up in loving Jesus that, like a cup that overflows, we will be ready to share about the hope that we have. 

On realising the instinct to evangelise. 

I wrote this to tell others this story. But also to tell this story to myself.


growing a garden

I am still figuring out what flower you are.

There was no step-by-step guide on how much water or fertiliser to give you and how frequent to do these things. I was just given the gloves and the tools.


I armed myself with water and fertiliser, determined to protect your little frame against the unforgiving environment; and yet it was that very environment that was necessary for your growth. I wasn’t sure how to work with the soil, rain and even the worms. All I wanted to figure out was when I should water and when I should fertilise. Till today, I am realising that you are unique; your needs are different from the seed next to you.

I suffered not just from a lack of skill to nurture you, but also from a lack of persistence in maintaining a rhythm and system of watering and fertilising the earth that you are nestled in. You were doomed for death. I was close to giving up until one day I noticed that I was not alone.

I saw how the sun shined, how the rain fell and how the earth hugged your skin as if there was another gardener – a Master Gardener – who seemed to always know just what you needed. I observed how the sun always shone with strength and how the rain always fell with great liberty. Thus, I decided to study the weather, determined to not let you fade.

On certain weeks, the sun seemed to be hiding its face behind the clouds. On other days, the rain would not come. I would worry and worry – maybe the Master Gardener forgot? Still, as I waited and watched, the sun and the rain always showed up. I learned that I could always trust the Gardener – He clearly knew how to nurture and grow you much better than I did. He knew you. He knows you.

With a deep breath, I picked up my tools again and continued watching the weather. I was determined to learn.

Soon, I understood that I could be confident of one thing. You will bloom.

It is with this confidence that I continue  working with the mysterious hand of the Master Gardener to see that process through. One day, you will stretch your green arms and break through the ground. Subsequently, you will find the strength and the courage to leave the comfort of your old skin to discover what lies beyond the surface. Soon, you will learn to reach for the sun.

Then, I will finally see what that seed hid in its core. I will finally get to encounter the great beauty, energy and fragrance the little seed bound up so tightly in its body, as if it knew that it was hiding a treasure of tremendous value and importance.

When that happens, perhaps another seed will be placed in my hands. Till that day comes, I will watch the weather and participate in the unravelling of you. Even when my hands fail, I know full well that you will not break in the gentle and loving hands of the Master Gardener.

dear flower (to be),

You are a spot of colour in a back drop of greys and blacks.

You are a fragrance that permeates the stale odour of hopelessness.

You are a glimpse of eternity in the short breath of time.

You are the flower that is becoming; will become.


(dear agape, with all of my heart.)