like a knife to the slaughter

Vino... I now thoroughly know what it feels like to be a knife to the slaughter - I had to slay the lamb! I had to do what is right even though I am guilt-ridden, utterly so. However, I feel that if I had not been honest with my dear friend, he might mistake my friendliness for something more and in the event, cause more pain than necessary. But I think God has someone else for him anyway. And considering my records, every guy I have been honest about how I just consider them a treasured friend and no more; have gotten married in a year. So, he'll be fine, I'm sure. I am now just recovering from the evening. Feels like every time I do this, my heart dies a little. I lose could-be-good friends, and a bit of my hope for the future. I am tired of doing this Vino.. But until the Lord allows me to go on with a relationship I can't go forward. How do you explain to them that you are only following the Lover of your soul as best as you can and that it has nothing to do with them? Lordie... the day you bring the one You have chosen, please help him hear from you clearly. I probably don't ever have the strength or the courage to open my heart, Lordie... Vino, the guy would have to have persistence and patience like Hosea, I tell you!!! Vino, God bless you dearie... Miss you so much. Wish you were here. But you're on your way to Malaysia by now. Love you lots..

Are you google-ble?

I've just realised that I am not googlebled, Vino! But my sister is though. She is part of the Malaysian Association of Speech Therapists. Isn't that incredible! Ok, I am going to write my name and details in this blog just to see if I can google myself out. Weellll, you never know. Someone out there might just be mezmerized enough after meeting on a bus or a train or a plane and the only clue he has of me is my name and city! So here goes:

Name : Ching Ying Chiang as the Americans or westerners call me. I prefer being called Chiang Ching Ying.. The first sounds like pots and pans falling down the stairs! Yikes!
Meaning: 'Ching' means "shine of the stars"; 'Ying' means "luminicence of a gem, probably a
jade"
Malaysia's my country but I must admit that my loyalty to the King and Queen of England (when the man steps up to the job!) is still deep and strong. I am what you call 'a typical result of colonization'. I wonder if Portland Bible College might sway my loyalties to embrace the American sentiments or be swept into the phonological currents of the American retroflect-drawl. God forrrrrrrrbid!!!!
ok.. that's enough about me. What a silly post this is!!! So much for my silly attempt to be google-bled! Gosh!!(In John Adams' style - you gotta see him before you can imagine this Napoleon Dynamite expression.. hehe)

Pain Sublime

Surge and ebb, Surge and ebb
My heart is swelling
Hauling in the sweetness of the Divine
Too much to grasp
Too precious to lose
His divineness
like fine sand

In the quietness of silence

In the quietness of silence,
In the leaning of one's head,
Upon the bosom of safety's love,
I hear Beauty's melody.

In the quietness of silence's song,
In the leaning down of one's soul,
Upon the bosom of beauty's melody,
I hear the Whisper of Ages.

In the quietness of words,
Whispered onto white paper,
In the spin of an overwhelming calm,
I hear the dizzying currents of the Musician.

Oh Lord, such beauty silence holds,
Beauty found in the song of haunting flutes,
Luring, the strings reply. Soaring, crescendo!
I remember Eden's song of lost beauty.

The Hallowed and majestic flesh - dancing,
The Stronger grasping the hands of clay,
The Dawn of Love laughing - twirling
His beloveds, cleaving to their Breathgiver,
Such visions I dare not lose -
Should quietness shatter into noisy splinters.

Losing sight of Your face,
Going blind, going deaf to Your song,
Songmaker, Songmaker, sing me Your story -
Songmaker, Songmaker, imprison me, besiege,
With the passion of Your heart th' cry of Your spirit.

Reveal the essence of who You are,
Bury me in the refrain of an embracing knowing,
Earthly Bride, Immortal Groom,
Clutching the hem of Your skirt over me.

Crush the clutter inside, bright quiet Holiness,
Breathe and still the shame within,
Reveal instead the sleep of the quieted,
Like a child weaning, waiting at his mother's breast.

Miracles

My prayers have been answered Vino.. Today the people whom I am fond of all of a sudden came hugging, literally and figuratively. I woke up with a desire to stay away from everyone. But He links us with His other children with His love. The writer friend whom I had a hurricane outing with actually came to say hello while I was at the library today. Lacey, my dear friend came and kissed on my cheek. Jesse, a funny fellow with a humble heart, kissed my forehead in a jest. Do you wonder if God hears our puny cries for small heartaches? He does... Praise God, He does. He doesn't just send beams of light to His children who undergo torture. He also sends His assurances of love to silly daughters like me! He's so lovely, lah...

"March of Faith" by Lindley J. Baldwin

From the book, "The March of Faith"

"The greatest leadership is that which creates other leaders. Democracy depends for its preservation upon the capacity to pass on the torch of leadership from one generation to another, - The March of Faith through the ages."

The book tells the touching true story of a African prince who was tortured by his captors as a ransom for the defeat of his tribe. While he was hanging on a cross in Africa, a light from heaven shone down on him and he was led to safety. He later understood that this God is the same God who sent His own son to suffer in a manner similar to his experience. He escaped to Liberia where he was found by a missionary who told him the gospel story and the story of Paul. Immediately, he recognised that the Christian God is the same God who rescued him with a beam of light. He became her first convert and she christened him, Samuel Morris. He learnt all he could about Christ but his hunger and desire to know the Holy Spirit could not be met by the missionary. By faith, he trusted God to bring him to America where he was taken in to study in Taylor University Bible School. He unwittingly became an influence among the students in the university and was known for his direct, calm 'talks' with the Father. The Holy Spirit would powerfully convict everyone with whom he prayed for. He was not a charismatic leader, nor was he a great orator. But the Holy Spirit worked through an uneducated man in such a powerful way because he had a simple, childlike trust in his Father. Samuel died 5 years after he arrived in America at the age of 21. His influence however is still felt and seen in Taylor University. Many have left to Africa in his place to reach his people. Taylor University was also at the brink of closing just before Samuel's death but God inspired the trustees to have faith and miraculously brought ten thousand dollars and ten acres of land to rebuild the university. Just before his death, the students came to pay him their daily visit and Sammy told them with quiet joy that he now understood it all. He said "I am so happy. I have seen the angels. They are coming for me soon. The light my Father in heaven sent to save me when I was hanging helpless on that cross in Africa was for a purpose. I was saved for a purpose. Now, I have fulfilled that purpose. My work here on earth has been finished." Dr. Reade questioned him about the great work he had planned to do amongh his own people in Africa. Sammy answered, "It is not "my work". It is Christ's work. He must choose his own workers. Others can do it better."
A must-read book! God challenged me to realise it is not my ability to relate to people, nor my charismatic personality nor my talent that will bring people to God. It is His spirit alone, and He is with me. I only have to keep my ears open for His voice, trust and obey, and march the march of faith.

In the beginning

In the beginning, God created the earth. Not by waving a magic wand. Not by stirring the cauldron and spitting spells into the air. Not even by the act of molding nothingness with His bare hands and then carefully hanging our planet in space. Or flinging it into space with one hand, [if you prefer viewing Him as an 'artsy-fartsy' (ching-term) dramatic, melancholic Universal Rembrandt von Einstein kind-of-Creator]. Instead, He created by speaking the worlds into being. It was not a coincidence that words were involved in the original creation. It is in fact a concept that is ancient old, one which a modern man sitting at a desk starring into the screen would probably have a hard time conceiving. Evangelical seminaries term this as the covenantal act, much like the ones reproduced in many ancient civilizations when a king vows an oath to be the benevolent protector to his people. I will attempt to explain what I have learnt in my Covenant classes in the coming blogs. This concept have really gripped my heart this particular semester and I am truly awestruck by it all.

In sum, words have power, you see. And this power increases the greater and more important the speaker is. The reverse is also true. The greater the feat a speaker's words accomplish, the greater the speaker must be. And this is our God - He speaks and creation replies by spinning it into existence. But we must not forget that He, being God, could have chosen to write the world into being, or chisel out the planets and trees. He could have chosen trees to walk and talk in place of man. He could have done a million things other than the one He chose to do. He is after all, G-O-D! Instead, He chose to speak His heart to man and swear Himself to us, that He is now and forever, bound to us, and we, in return, are bound to Him.

And so it is fitting that my first post of my blog to myself and alter ego a.k.a. my closest friend, Ms. Vino (strange but true!) , is sung in honour of God's first creative act known to mankind. Spicy Chicken Strips should be just that, little strips of spicy meat crisps . Nothing profound. Only a collection of thoughts and letters to God and closest friend. Some thoughts are my amateurish attempts at writing. Some are just plain confusions of life and my hashing-outs. Bother! I simply just wanna map out what's in my head into tangible words so that they rearrange in an orderly fashion. Hopefully, they'll help me get on with life after that.

So I dedicate this blog first to You, Lordie, the One who invented The Word, the stream of consciousness and thoughts in words and mental images.. and then to my family, Ma or Mommey, Pei and Ming. Hopefully one day, Pa, you'll be reading this too.

Till then, a toast to Spicy Chicken Strips:- Long life to the man who eats us with a happy heart!