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December 2008 Archives

Service, Love

Junior Camper in Main Hall

“You chose to leave your 2 children for these 80 kids?” someone asked.

Yes I did, I silently thought, still unsure about whether I made the right decision.

I spent Christmas week helping out at this year’s Junior Camp and for me, it was a search for peace. It had been at least 8 years since I’ve been to Junior Camp, and even then I was only the leader of 15 campers. The weight of having my work judged bore heavily on me, made worse by parents who popped by the campsite unannounced and a growing paranoia of comments that “this Junior Camp isn’t the same as last time’s”.

To be perfectly honest (and I know some of you campers are reading this), I felt like throwing in the towel somewhere around day 2. It was only by God’s grace that criticism in the backchannels became constructive comments as the camp personnel grew more comfortable with each other and with me. There’s probably a bazillion things I could have done better, but I’m just trying to learn what God is trying to teach me: how to balance taking care of my family and serving the church as a family.

Final Tadah

A couple of weekends ago Anne and Seth performed flower-girl and page-boy duties. This was their second time.

During rehearsal Anne was practicing the throwing of her flower petals, then carefully picking them up and putting them back in the basket. What we had neglected to tell Seth was that during the actual ceremony itself, the flower petals were meant to stay on the ground.

So you can imagine the pandemonium of our little girl throwing her flower petals as Seth screamed “no!” while frantically trying to pick all the petals up and then running forward to put them back in Anne’s hand-basket.

Anne, in performance mode, was totally oblivious to the disappearance of her partner who had embarked on his quest to undo her blatant act of littering. She just walked down the aisle, smiling for the camera. The only time she sensed something was wrong was when she reached the front only to find that she had so many petals left.

When Ronald and Stephanie marched through the aisle as man and wife with the bridal procession following them, Anne (now the last in the procession) took the opportunity to finish the sacred task of emptying the hand-basket of flowers.

Redux

Put this together in 2 hours, really quick and dirty. Couldn’t stand the default Movabletype template.

So now I’ve got to work on incorporating this design into the individual posts.

I’m expecting the colour-scheme to change. Any ideas?

Battleworn

There are times when you find yourself at your strength’s end. Tonight, it’s a general weariness from struggling with intermittent internet access at work, a body that’s recovering from a short round at the gym yesterday and a bowl of fishball noodles that on retrospect, had some rather stale prawns. Bleaugh.

Caleb requires more attention than ever as he’s learned how to crawl. He’s already trying to stand up and do a “look dad, no hands”. It scares us a little as his head has met the cold hard floor a number of times already. Anne’s not taking too well to her little brother hogging her mum and dad. She gets overly affectionate towards Caleb, often forgetting that her strength and her weight could injure him.

And so tonight I came home, tiredness written over my face. I tell Faith how yucky I feel.

“Feeling tired?” she asks. “Yeah, me too.”

We’re both kinda burned out I guess.

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