Choose something greaterre

Sometimes I feel like it’s right to not say something that’s right.

People are tired of having rules and stuff in their face all the time. They know they’re there. But they hate it when people say it to their face, what they should do, what they shouldn’t do.

I mean, if someone tells you something they believe in and practice, you can’t just tell them that it’s wrong and they shouldn’t.

They wouldn’t even want to talk to you anymore.

Maybe sometimes instead of shining light onto the world we make it so glaring that people are repelled by the idea of it. Or maybe the world has really just become that much of a darker place.

It’s quite sad how religion is something that the world is so replused by. Christians are catagorised as backward, self-righteous, hateful, unaccepting.

And friends tell me that it’s okay to share stuff that happens spiritually as long as I don’t ‘preach’. How am I supposed to tell people about who God is when they hate the thought of it? Sometimes I just feel so frustrated, when friends tell me that they hate how life doesn’t have a purpose and yet they’re willing to settle for something that’s not worthy of living for.

And how everything loses its meaning so easily now. And how some things are so twisted from its original intent.

Love. Freedom. Sex.

When freedom is being able to do whatever you want, when love is just a fluttery feeling. When sex becomes just a fling of fun.

And when God becomes a cold, unappealing, centuries-old rule book.

When people ask me what to do, I just end up saying that these things have as much value and meaning as you want them to, hoping that they’d choose something greater, but I never ever see that.

I wonder how God feels, every time we choose something He wishes so desparately that we wouldn’t. A thousand times worse than what I do. A hundred thousand.


Glorious light

Had a little revelation during Samuel’s baptism today.

Which kinda stems from the sermon I watched on YouTube by Lecrae on Friday night (or rather Saturday morning at 2)

It was about the glory of God, and how our entire existence is all for it.

Some people would take it the wrong way, they’d think God was completely self absorbed, always wanting to be made known for his glory, always wanting to be worshiped.

But the thing is, this is the only way it makes sense.

Say God is light, it doesn’t make sense for light to exist in nothingness, you know? There’s no point of having light rays going on and on forever and ever in a total space of darkness. That’s why he created us, and everything in this universe, we are the things that exist in this nothingness for light to reflect off. That’s the beautiful purpose we serve. We serve to be seen, beautiful, glorious, all because of this light.

Light rays were meant to reflect off something, and we were meant to be that something.

We were meant to show how glorious this light is.


In the warmth it never will seem like

these flames will flicker into ashes in the sky

You would have never imagined

that one day these things will die

When snow melts into water that runs away

And petals fall to the ground one day

When things in people’s hearts start to fade

When they forget the things they’ve said

You would have never imagined


Today I just didn’t want to listen to music, and I never thought that there’d be a day like that.

I guess it’s only when the thoughts in my mind are loud enough, and music will just make it chaotic inside.

Music fills up your mind with thoughts. Or feelings in a way I guess.

My brain kinda hurts now, from all this worry. It feels like something is constantly pressing on it.

I just want to go to the beach and soak in the shallow side of the sea, to just sit there and stare at the horizon of where water meets the sky, and imagine that my mind is as clear as that.

Empty vessel

It’s been a long time since I went to a funeral. And it felt quite weird. Okay maybe the word is surreal.

Hearing people read eulogies, and bursting out into tears, and when everyone was singing hymns, it didn’t feel real.

And standing so close to something that isn’t alive anymore.

I tried imagining if it were my own grandmother, and how it would feel.

I knew this person. I’ve seen her full of life. Now her face rests emotionless, pale and waxy, in a coffin and I can never touch her again or feel her hug or hear her speak or see the lively jerk in her hands when she talks.

It’s quite hard to imagine anyone close to me being dead.

Or to see a body and come to terms with how that’s all it is, an empty vessel.