it's a wrap!

just another manic monday…

Archive for Father

Heart of a father

Early morning, before the mall started to get crazy with people thronging its floors, we sat with our mugs of steaming coffee and danishes.
The lone grand piano sat at the podium, having a quiet moment before the pianist comes.
A little girl dressed in a tartan skirt, ballerina tights and sweet white sweater danced around the deserted podium, her father keeping his eyes on her.
With a smile, she beckoned a father to come dance!
He clumsily pirouetted and walked like a penguin, to the daughter’s squeals of laughter.
We sat, watching the short, sweet little pantomime, laughter bubbling.
The father and daughter was never aware how much pleasure and how much they brighten up our days, just by simply enjoying each other on a bright sunny morning in an empty podium.

Wiping the slate clean

Wiping the slate clean.
What a valuable chance one gets when one gets the chance to wipe the slate clean.
Erase the hurt i caused. Erase the words i said. Erase the mistakes i made. Erase the past.
When you get a chance to start over (frankly i thought these situations only happened in movies) what do you do?
The rational answer would of course be: why, take it, embrace it, live it!


i must have written about this before

God is too great to be mistaken; God is too good to be unkind. When you don’t understand, when you don’t see His plan, when you can’t trace His hand, trust His heart”

I must have written something on this before. There were so many incidents in my life that I must have depended on the essence of this saying just to get me through the day, maybe some nights too.

When I questioned my own sanity, when I teetered on the brink of despair, when the waves threaten to engulf me, when the darkness of the cave threaten to swallow me whole.

When I held on by a breath.

Maybe the only assurance that I have in the world of uncertainty.

I have someone whose heart I can trust.


L’arc-en-ciel, the arch in the sky literally. it refers to the rainbow.
I cannot quite fathom why colourless, invisible light can be shattered into so many prisms of colour.
I cannot say I have found a singel person who hated the rainbow. But I have encountered many whom even though they have no inkling of it’s symbolic meaning, find hope in it. That is a mystery.
I guess that’s the one more of the many million things that I do not understand.
Oh it’s a good thing. The world loses it’s mystery if everything could be understaood so easily.
I guess that’s why there are many mysteries kept locked up, of some get revealed in due course, of some we will never know the ryhme and reason.
Maybe if all things were revealed, there is nothing left to look forward to, we already know what’s happening. There is no need for hope. NO hope. How dreary a picture that paints. And when there’s hope, then we have faith to sustain us. Faith to lead us through the uncertainties today to hope for a better tomorrow! 🙂

I gave yesterday’s question quite a bit of thought. And it dawned on me that the only thing I cannot live without is God. Just that.
People look upon those who need to depend on something, like religion, like God, as weak. But I think those that think like that are merely too proud.
Too proud to admit that you’re not right all the time, too proud to admit that you’re not strong all the time and too prud to admit you have weaknesses. Oh yes, it take strength and courage to ADMIT that you too have faults.
where would I be without the soothing peace that comes upon me when my heart is ravaged and bleeding? What would I do without the solid rock to sustain me when the strong tides pulls me away and tries to drown me in sorrow? How could I go on without blurting everything out to the ever patient listener and finding solutions in His wisdom?
Well, it’s a very simple answer after all.

I cannot live without God.

What can’t you live without?

I picke up a colleague’s mobile she’d left behind. A moment later, she breezed back in, I handed her the mobile and she held on to it like a life raft and said, “Thank goodness, I cannot live without my phone!”
I was flabbergasted!
I have no qualms whatsoever of leaving my mobile at home and not being terribly worried about it, if I am out with my family. Techinically, they are the ones who get really worried when they cannot find me, and of which I am afraid will contact me in case of emergencies. So, if I am with them, the phone can sit nicely on top of my upright piano and stay there silently until I return from wherever I am out gadding.
So, yes, I can live without my mobile.
Yes, I can live without Facebook. Ha! Now I am sure I have heard this phrase being wondered alound more than once, when this question surfaced.
“What did you do with your time before Facebook was invented?”
“Hmmmmmmmm, I cannot remember.”
Well, well, well.
I can live without coffee, yes, I love it. That bitter, aromatic, rich, dark brew.
I can even live without the man I love.
Just threw a spanner in the works for those sappy, lovestruck kids didn’t I?
It doesn’t make me love him any less, I will probably throw myself in front of a truck if it saves him. I will be the peacemaker between him and his family if it helps him. I will gladly travel to the South Africa and take a photo of the majestic lion if that is his favourite animal. I will go and buy wine from Chianti if that is what he desired for his birthday.
But, yes, I can go days without hearing his voice, without knowing how he is, what he’s doing. Truating that my prayers for him to be safe and unharmed are answered.
What’s the one thing I cannot live without then?
I gave it quite a lot of thought, I mulled over it like a cow chewing cud and watching the sun set over the clover filled grass in the valley.

What’s the best way to blow off steam when you’re angry?

I guess it’s a personal preference.
A game of vicious racquetball’ll be great. Pounding your way up the stairs, a vigorous session of dancing, facing a sea of water and shouting as loud as you can into the wilderness, screaming into the pillow, venting your frustration with big bold strokes of paint slashing across the canvas.
Sitting queitly, staring out into the majssty of the blue green mountains, leaning comfortably into the cushions, letting waves of soothing jazz wash over you and lulling away the knots of stress, silently uttering a prayer of thanksgiving.