Long bound my body laid,
turned in by grueling chains
My shackles shook with every moan,
and grime and pain assailed my frame
To habit and pleasure so long imprisoned,
In dungeons deep of choice mine own
Where-wither the eyes might gaze,
the agonies of darkness I now behold.

Then swiftly, sweetly, a thunderous sound;
that veil was torn from high to low
I cannot fathom nor yet imagine,
for immobilised my form remained
With throbbing fears, I scarced believe,
would He so Sacred, still pry for me
For deep I laid, beneath the earth,
wasting, seething without a hope.

Yet harkened again the sound of life,
"It is finished", the voice did cry!
With weapons stripped, sin could do no strife,
nor bind a man who heeds that cry
My shackles broke and fears fell off,
the dungeon fled and haunts no more
For Love found me and took me forth,
wayfaring my soul to Jesus forevermore.

Charlie. N
For an old friend.

欢 欢 喜 喜

神 爱 世 人 ， 甚 至 将 他 的 独 生 子 赐 给 他 们 ， 叫 一 切 信 他 的 ， 不 至 灭 亡 ， 反 得 永 生 。John 3:16

我 们 既 因 信 称 义 ， 就 藉 着 我 们 的 主 耶 稣 基 督 得 与 神 相 和 。 2 我 们 又 藉 着 他 ， 因 信 得 进 入 现 在 所 站 的 这 恩 典 中 ， 并 且 欢 欢 喜 喜 盼 望 神 的 荣 耀 。
Roms5:1-2

I read the Methodist news letter and was very very happy with what I saw. 欢 欢 喜 喜, yes... that's right, whatever these 4 words mean. Fairfield Methodist church making a bold effort to reach out to the Chinese Construction Workers and I thought, splendid. Now I have a chinese and English Bible and its part of my very valiant effort to read my bible in chinese abit more, but as one can ascertain, I've just been reading the english bit. After I looked at the newsletter, I am now keen on reading my bible in Chinese! yes, without the dictionary (I'll just skip some words)!

But to come back to the point, when I see my Chinese brothers 欢 欢 喜 喜 盼 望 神 的 荣 耀, I feel immeasurably humbled. God's grace is blind to gender, race or social strata. Very comforting and encouraging. He saves according to his never-ending mercies and when the church begins to do what Fairfield is doing then I think we are exemplifying His love. Well done church. You've inspired me to read chinese again even.

Now for some copying and pasting..... 我 欢 欢 喜 喜 的 爱 他 的 独 生 子，主 耶 稣 基 督!

阿 們 ！

I want you to think along with me :) God loves His Son more than anything else, in fact He does everything for the Son's sake. Similarly, the Son loves the Father more than anything else and is fully obedient to the Father.

Just ponder on this alone and then marvel at the cross. Where the Father crushes His Son utterly and makes Him a spectacle for unbelieving men?

Then listen to this song....

Of Friendship

A stranger sat beside me during the church BBQ. Practically half of the city was out on that sunny Sunday afternoon, and a large proportion of that happy crowd were thronging the free burgers. As the bespectacled man sat down, slightly wobbled by his plate of burgers and fries, I greeted him. He peered at me through the large framed glasses, smiled weakly and offered his hand. I shooked it firmly.

The sun was lifted to its full galore and streamed rays upon the orderly mass of burger hungry British people. For close to an hour, our conversation had been nothing but earnest. Opening up his life to me, he spoke about the struggles he was facing and how it was all culminating in a court case. Patting me on the back, he smiled and shook his head. Reminiscing about his life while i munched happily on my 3rd serving of the afternoon, he looked haplessly away.

Saying suddenly, but calmly, his words have since remained with me for a long time

"We may live our whole lives with people who are no more than strangers, and yet meet strangers for only a few short hours and be friends for those few short hours."

Lifting my head up from the nice, juicy beef patty, I cocked my head to the side and looked at the battle wearied face. I did find myself comfortable with a man who happened to be a stranger. Friendship as he was hinting, is more than just the spending of time together, it was also peering into the other's soul and knowing it. Stranger-hood, is the tragedy of superficiality, of knowing about someone without actually knowing someone.

I placed an arm on his shoulder and patted his back. We were friends for that short moment, because neither wanted anything out of each other except the chance to share each other's soul. When I read about Truman, I was struck by his lonliness. If one was a President of USA, surely everyone wanted to be your friend.And that's why they'll never be friends, because they want to associate with the power, the wealth, the position, but they don't really want to associate with the man's soul.

As I placed my plate back at the counter, fully satisfied with the meaty lunch. Quite rightly, I gave that man all my vegetables which he liked but I didn't. I asked, rather politely, if he would like to meet up again at the same place tomorrow. He said he would love to, but it depended on how long the court case would last. Penniless and without a handphone, that was all the assurance he could give me. Smiling at each other, I waved goodbye to my friend. The next day came and went, he didn't come to the meeting place. Our ships had past each other.

God treasures the little ones

By the waysides of manifold hills, weaving themselves in a straight undulating line, stood a little village. There in the midst of its grey, Marxist-themed concrete buildings, was an orphanage, parked with open spaces by its side. In it were a number of children, who slept in rooms that had poor heating, but they huddled together, sharing warmth. In their little world, there were not differences of race, or intellect, or caste or whatever. In their tiny clueless world, was a yearning for love.

A yearning strong enough, that they sought it in the volunteers that came by every few months. They were never the same volunteers, but the children still offered their love openly and freely, for they had nothing else to give. And when we have nothing else to give except our love, we love with a despair, a wholeheartedness and a passion.These children did. They pandered for attention, and along the way, became hurt so badly - far too often for a child to take. When vulnerability gives way to too much hurt, the ideas of love fade, like the vanishing hills on a foggy day.

Gazing into his eyes, I reach out a hand. Young, wearied of un-reciprocated love, the child stares at the floor, pained and unsure. Some of the older ones sniggered at his struggle. Every month, the volunteers come, but they are not the same. You hug one, and then he goes, doesn't return. Affection might buy some chocolate bars and attention, but there was no constancy in love. Love given, was not met with love returned for a lifetime.

I looked at him struggle. Inching forward, we had a little hug. Yup, I could not offer it for a lifetime. I could hardly replace lost parents and yes, I will be gone soon. I might be able to return but I will miss your birthdays, your sad days and your happy days. But I know that when I hug you, I represent Christ, though I am greatly flawed, He is able to surpass them and show love. And when you offer your frail love to Him, in that desperate, singular, passionate way because you have nothing else, He offers you His strong love in that singular, passionate and faithful way. In the wayside of hills, where an orphanage stood, I learnt a little bit of that.

God,

Thanks for this video, it has meant much.

Usually, when my army pals play songs in the office, I wouldn't be able to sing along to anything. Today, one of them shared his 90s playlist with me... And I was quite amazed... for I could actually sing along to the large majority of them. As I hummed along from my desk, a very popular song was belted out. Quite beside myself, I broke into emphatic chorus

"..take my life, I'll give it all, I'll sacrifice."

"Everything I do, I do it for You."

Then I paused and from my window gazed far beyond the seas into the distant horizon where heaven and earth met and sighed. Let my whole Life be found loving You in such a way, that everything else will fade away into plainness.