being held hostage at home to make sure my room gets cleaned up is not such a bad thing after all.

ooh, and i must say that i think typing when my nails are short is much easier and more satisfying than when my nails are long. i hate the feeling of my long nails scrabbling on the keyboard and the clickety-clack sound of it.

random point of interest.



i'm rather obsessed with throwing things out of my room now. think it's the feeling of throwing vestiges of your old life out, material things symbolising a large portion of my life.

out with the old, in with the new!


it's a lot like how the Holy Spirit works in my life, i find. when i want the Spirit to come into my life and make changes in it, i need to throw out old pieces of me to make room. old bad habits, old sins, old things i cling on to for the blind comfort they bring - they all must go. there's no room in my heart for God's spirit and my own human transgressions to exist side-by-side. something's got to give, and i want the something to be all the old stuff i'm hanging on to, cos it's time to give them up.

i've been wrapped up in me for far too long, making life difficult for others as a result of this obessession with Me. how could i have forgotten that the world doesn't revolve around me; it never has and never will? how could i have been so caught up in my own misery that i failed to see the suffering of others around me? it's true, then, that people are essentially selfish creatures. we long for our own well-being first, we long to set matters right for ourselves right - sometimes at the expense of others. okay, so maybe i shouldn't extend the "selfish" tag to EVERYONE, cos it's me i'm talking about here. so i quit generalising. but i've been thinking a lot lately, and i realise that a lot of my own hurt was self-inflicted. i imagine things to be a certain way, and refuse to quit thinking of things that way, partly cos it'd require me to acknowledge a faulty judgement on my part, partly cos i hate to admit that i'm wrong. hate it, simply hate it. i never realised how much i hated to admit it when i'm wrong until very recently, when i had been forced on several occasions to really take stock of my choices and thus forced to realise how wrong i'd been.

pride, my dear girl. it's the ugly head of pride rearing itself in me. and i thought i'd quashed that demon some time back. some things, they just never really leave you eh.

we all say we don't judge, but i think it's one of the hardest things to do, to not judge at all. all of us do, to a certain extent. spoken or unspoken, the judgement's been made in our heart. when spoken out loud, you're judgemental. when left unsaid, you're hypocritical cos you don't say what you mean and do the exact opposite of what you think. but is it, really? it's near impossible to stop our thoughts from forming; sometimes, it seems as though our thoughts have a mind of their own, even. but i guess when we fight against what our first judgements were and labour to rid ourselves of them, it's effort enough and God recognises it and will send his spirit down to help us as we desire to change our hearts. it's all in the desire ultimately, isn't it? with the desire comes the impetus to change, and then from there on, God can start to work.

in the Gospel of Luke it says,
stop judging, and you will not be judged. stop condemning and you will not be condemned. forgive and you will be forgiven.
Luke 6:37.

and then a little farther down, it continues with:
why do you notice the splinter in your brother's eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?
Luke 6:41.


which pretty much sums up my entire reflection. wrapped up in my own selfish world of hurts and sufferings, i pointed out everything that was wrong with everyone, pointed out all the hurtful things others were doing unto me - but i didn't realise the stupid things i was doing to others either. let the judgements stop here, and i guess all other judgements or condemnations that occur from here on aren't within my locus of control anymore. i change what i can within my means, and the rest, i leave up to God and his gentle Spirit to touch, rock or whisper as it likes.