How I avenged my hurt

Hurt can be such a game changer for me. It changes how I see life. It changes how I trust people. It changes me and how people see me.

I recall my first hurt. It was nearly 20 years ago. She was my girlfriend. My first love. I was a sucker for love and still am. One evening, she told me that she was going out. I asked her with whom. She kept quiet and walked away. 


I wanted to trust her but couldn't. So I did the silliest thing expected of a man in helpless love. I followed her. I tailed her like a shadow. What I found out hurt me deeply.

She went to watch a movie with another man. It was in fact a romantic movie about inseparable love (I guess watching a comedy would be less hurting? Especially one played by Danny Devito?)

I was devastated. I tried to dissuade her from entering the theater but she was as muted as an antique. She went in nevertheless and I was hurt, really hurt.

For once in my life (and never so intense before), I could feel my heart's vigorous pounding as if it was trying to break free from my rib cage, trying to make a run for it. I tried my darnest best to keep it all in. This struggle lasted for what seemed like an eternity. I guess descriptive words during such time could only scratch the surface (drama of youth?)


Till this day, decades later, I still recall that night. And I remembered that I carefully plotted my revenge after that. I didn't want to let her do this to me. I can't let her get away with it. I thought through my revenge; every step of the way. It was an elaborate plan and it took three years or more to come to fruition.

I wanted it to be equally, if not more, hurtful to her. Of course, I was not thinking of murder. That would be too juvenile. I did the next best nefarious thing. I
 actually married her. I married my hurt. I was a sucker for love remember?

It has been 14 years now and this "hurt" has given me three lovely children that I cannot live without. Just before I said "I do" at the altar in year 2000, I muttered under my breath that I love her. That was my "revenge". And as I kissed her, my plan came to fruition.

Life is a strange spiritual lodestar. Hurt's backfire was love's desire. I came around to love the one who hurt me. I love her more than I want to hold on to my hurt. And doesn't love sometimes hurt? 

My hurt was the game changer for me. But it was love that changed me in ways I cannot imagine. It was love that led me to let go of this hurt. I cannot imagine a better, more enduring therapy.

Life nods sagely when I came full circle. I have learned that nobody is perfect. That phrase is so trite that it has acquired a gangnam-style, semi-conscious, horse-riding coinage. But to me, I 
understood it intimately, deeply.

Everyone has their flaws. Mine can even be more hurtful than hers over time. During this 14 years, the struggle has been no less intense. Marriage is no park-in-the-park or a piece of wedding cake. You have to make up your mind and make it up everyday. It is a case of remembering to remind and reminding to remember. You can't go on autopilot or assume or presume or take for granted. This is another trite advice I  guess but it is so crucial to a marriage if it's understood and internalized.

Let me share this. I remember I was in court for a case involving bankruptcy and I pleaded with the judge on behalf of the debtor that he was heavily in debt. There were many creditors coming after him, I said. I told the court this metaphor, "the wolves are at the door."

I think this metaphor applies in a marriage. The wolves (of temptations/materialism) are indeed at the
 door. If we allow them in, even opening a small gap thinking that it is safe, we are courting trouble of the most regrettable kind.

So, going back to my love, it has been 14 years and counting. The three children, no less wolverine-like at times, are the consummation of this enduring, life-changing passion. And if this consummation has a mantra, it would be this: Love over-powered hurt and overcame all.

Although two of us seldom went 
to watch romantic movies together, I guess you can say that we have done something even better: we live it out with all the romance, lovers' tiff, embracing, hand-holding, reconciling, intimacy, reproducing, and the best of them all, growing old together and stronger. Now that's at least worth a mid-lifetime achievement award?

And come to think of it, I guess there is no sweeter revenge than the "revenge" of giving myself wholeheartedly to
 the one I love. Cheerz.

(ps: Thanks dear for allowing me to publish this. The silly things we do in our youth only make for endearing memories to be treasured during our golden years together).   

The secret life of a man

What is the secret life of a man? It is a life when his actions are incompatible with his thoughts. It is a life that is marred by cognitive dissonance. He is someone who thinks of one thing and acts the other. He is basically at odds with himself. He knows it. But he dares not confront it. He keeps it under lock and key. Most times, he is protecting its contents like a safe vault. This is his cellar of secrets, cold and mostly disturbing.


This is how he pulls off this duplicity of living. He over-compensates for it. He works over-time, round the clock to suppress it. He struts a taut high wire act. Against falling, he will persist in this charade of personas. He also keeps his actions and thoughts separate and apart like day and night. Never the two shall meet. His conscience may arraign him for the charge of hypocrisy. But it troubles him the least because such a conflicted life is too good to give up.


You see, to him, the man of secrets, he is merely surviving, if not thriving. Because to live successfully, at least in the way the world judges it, he needs to keep the match away from the kerosene, separating the man he is known by all from the man he knows he cannot reveal to all. He will work all his living years to keep his cover from being blown. He is like a counterspy caught in an espionage of self outsmarting self, that is, the public self against the private self.


For to let even a single soul in on his secrets, the carefully guarded ones, is too dangerous a gambit for such a man. Should the same be leaked out, that is, the secrets of what he really thinks, what he truly is deep within, the unquenchable desires, untamed lust and blind ambitions, all coming up to a frenzy froth in the darkest night of his soul, would be to lose everything he had so painstakingly built up and jealously protected.


Once his cover is blown, the world will judge him. He will be summoned to be tried for the treason against the private self. All his motives, intentions and designs, however redeemable, will be questioned, discredited and condemned. In the barrage of accusations that he faces, he would stand stark naked before the equally hypocritical masses with all his past conducts subjected to the cold forensic vivisection of the self-righteous inquisitors.


Indeed, and quite ironical, he will be judged by his peers, that is, his peers who themselves have succeeded in living thus far because they have kept their own dark secrets under locks and keys. The ugly truth is this, the world hates a mocked up public interrogation of the private self. It cannot stand facing the mirror of truth. More stringent than the rules for a child, the private self is neither to be seen nor heard.

The rule of success in this world is to live duplicitously no less.
And when a man’s secrets are revealed, whether by inadvertence or by an act of honest rebellion - like a shard of broken glass from the mirror of truth - the world is shown a part of her own reflection and this reflection is a reminder of disgust to her. The world cannot stand the sight of it because it compels her to face the truth of her own duplicity.

You see, the world knows that the theatrical stage of life must be, erm, well staged. For aren’t we all actors? More importantly, it must
 be kept above the level of scrutiny and below the level of honesty. The stage of the self has to be layered, best obscured and kept encrypted from the public eye. If all that glitters is not gold, then the motive behind all that staged charisma isn’t solid gold either.

So the world will no doubt persecute the offender. He will be made to pay. The world will charge, convict and sentence the accused. The machination of retaliation will be methodological, 
impassionate, and unrelenting. The world will in fact do anything but to empathize or sympathize. And it lends credence to this saying, "you can do anything here, in this well-scripted play of life. Just don't get caught." And it is therefore implicit therein that if you should get caught, you shame us all.

So, I have no doubt gone back to where I first started, that is, the secret life of a man. But make no mistake about it, the truth about us is unsparingly ugly. It is also 
undoubtedly dark. This is why he who dares to show myself, his true authentic self, will be made to pay an exacting cost. His elective nakedness to the world comes with a price. His glaring vulnerability demands a sacrifice.

He will have to enter a confessional before the public to admit that his love is sometimes conditional, his charity is often attention seeking, his honesty is less than sincere, his integrity is not always untainted, his mind is often distracted, his heart rots with
 envy, and his thoughts are machievallian, sometimes perverse, and at most times, conflicting.

For to live a life that ceases to be at odds with itself is to live a life that is at enmity with this world. To strive to live an authentic life is to rock the boat, spoil the market or pee on the world's parade. When we take off our mask and show to all and sundry the side of us that we have kept hidden from others, we immediately shed all pretensions
 of perfections and veneers of invulnerability. We become what-you-see-is-what-it-is. We become an open book. We become weak. We become humbled. We become ordinary. We become different. We are set apart. We lose our ability to blend, to hide, to camouflaged, and to flock with the flock. We are labeled "outcasts of the world" because we have become true to ourselves. And the world cannot handle this truth about the truth about us, that is, the raw truth about the secret life of a man. Cheerz.

* Image taken from "smallbizlink.monster.com"

Mega-churches' mega-promises.

"Let's plan as if the sky is the limit and then work out how we are going to get the funds." Pastor Kong Hee (PKH) wrote in an email in 2005 to an American producer in a bid to launch his wife's music career and the Crossover Project.

Here’s my thought on the email and let me start with a series of questions.

Can one consider that part of the email a faith statement? And if so, is it deemed as a faith statement because PKH believes big? And he believes big because his god is big? And his god is big
 because his church is big? Too simplistic? Or, is planning "as if the sky is the limit" and then believing that it will all be delivered on a silver platter a kind of blank-cheque faith that makes it all too good to be true?

You see, if faith is the substance of things hope for and the assurance of things yet to materialize as Hebrews tells us, then is PKH's email the modern manifesto of faith? What would become of faith if all
 believers took the same approach and wait for their big spiritual windfall to come true?

Now to be fair to PHK, he wrote that email without specifically referring to it as a faith statement. But if we were to understand his background, that is, as a megachurch pastor who preaches mountain-casting faith over the pulpit, it wouldn't be too farfetched to make that connection between his faith believing and his email
 statement right? I mean he must have in mind the power of faith as a bridge between what is to him "the sky is the limit" and the funds to eventually pay for all of it right?

Still, if you think about it, isn't there more to faith than that? Could there be a risk of making that statement a self-serving twist of what faith really is? If so, doesn't that just make God our genie in the bottle? How can we then exercise faith and not fall into the trap of
 making God our cosmic Butler or our always-gleeful Santa Clause?

I think the problem with faith is not so much of unmet needs but mismatched expectations (and I will not be plumbing into the scriptures on the other many reasons for unanswered prayers). Our needs are of course endless (or wants?). And not every one of them will be met in the way we want them to be met. This is where we have to exercise personal discernment. When we make faith statements like the one PKH makes, it is not uncommon to encounter a mismatch between what the
 petitioner wants and what God has planned. In other words, what we expect from God may not be what he had planned for us.

It is easy, even convenient, to say that anything related to evangelism or discipleship falls within His plan. But in the context of a church, growth is an exercise in corporate spiritual discernment. And it is sometimes as tough as hell to discern what is the divinely guided direction for the body of Christ in this secular culture of quick-fixes, instant
 gratification, shock-and-awe showmanship, quantity-validates-quality mentality and in-the-world-but-not-of-the-world slippery slope. History has in fact shown that not all of what a leader had planned for church growth converged with that of God's plans. This divergence is wedged even deeper when the church measures its growth against a worldly benchmark of congregational enormity, material prosperity and cult of personality.

Faith I find is sometimes a convenient scapegoat in one's
ambitious pursuit of church growth. Somehow, when the church reaches a certain size and popularity, faith gets hijacked by the over-presumptuous vision of the church. And because the vision is usually pretentiously promoted to be that of God's, it is hard to tell at what point the Church leadership has crossed-over from walking within His will to galloping at one's self-driven plans (pun unintended).

At such time, it usually takes
 much greater faith to have faith in the church's vision. But this will not stop the church from going through with its plans because it is easier to swim with the flow than to swim against it. The ugly truth is this, a contrarian, a whistle blower and a naysayer are either always openly despised or discreetly ostracized. Alas, by this stage, the once novel position has become the default position and this is also where the church collectively goes on auto-pilot.


I think the pull of the crowd is the nemesis of clarity in thought. Leaders and their followers get so caught up in their own piranhas' feasting frenzy that the blood of their pride, greed and ambition clouds the muddy cultural waters they swim in. Personally I am wary of two things: the indissoluble cult of personality and the delusional mob of conformity. Together, they are a force to reckon with and reckoned with with much blood spitting aggravation. The prodigious effort to turn the church around is often as futile as trying to catch a piano thrown from a skyscraper before it crashes to the ground; you in turn endanger yourself in the process.

So, going back to faith in a megachurch setting, my hope is that people in leadership positions would take stock of their conduct once in a while. Faith has to be self-reflective or self-introspective. If there is an enemy of faith worth our time and attention, it would have to be misdirected doubt. By this, I
mean doubts directed at everyone else except ourselves. Sometimes we have to question our motive or intention. The interrogative spotlight has to be on ourselves. We have to be opened to the possibility that we may be wrong or that the ongoing self-promoting project midstream may well be going downstream. It is only through this self-examining process, carried out with deliberate rigor and self-prosecutorial vigor, that there is any hope of leaving a sliver of light for God's spirit to 
turn the raging tides around.

Finally, and this is difficult to write, faith has limits. I am of course familiar with mountain-casting faith here. But if such be exercised with impunity (without limits), then one can expect a leveled and barren landscape in due course. I find this excruciatingly obvious and yet I cannot dismiss this agitating need to explain myself nevertheless. Here goes (and I refuse to dedicate more than one paragraph to it).


Faith is a law-breaker. It is supernatural intervention of our natural world and its natural laws. It is therefore a rule-offender. In a world of faith, the growth of cancer is halted. Ageing is reversed. The meteorological dynamics of wind, clouds and atmospheric pressure are inverted. Gravity takes a backseat. And nature as a whole is turned on its head. This is another way of saying that a miracle has happened. And a miracle is something that defies 
the rules of science (and even freewill). As much as that is said, I would like to qualify that this has to be an exception to the rule, that is, mountain-casting faith cannot be the rule while mountain-stubborn ones are the exception. This is obvious because if the laws of nature are violated on a regular basis, that is, rain stops midway, hospitals emptied every Fridays, wayward husbands suddenly break off with their mistresses, and misfortunes becomes good fortunes overnight, then this 
would all result in a miracle-churning willy-wonker world of unbridled pandemonium. Enough said? (there you have it...in one long paragraph).

So, as faith has limits, and such limits have to do with the mismatch of expectations (that is, God has other plans for us), the petitioner, especially those in leadership, should always act with circumspect. This is a roundabout way of saying that the exercise of faith has to be preceded by a time of self
-examination. And this is also where such statements like "Let's plan as if the sky is the limit and then work out how we are going to get the funds" runs perilously close to being self-fulfilling rather than God-fulfilling. And when we rest on our own strength instead of God's to realize our own prayer, we replace the divine providence of the Grantor for the worldly confidence of the grantee and thus risk losing our way somewhere in the wilderness of self-adulation. Cheerz.

almighty grace or grace overdose

We serve a loving god. A god who loves unconditionally. A god who forgives even more unconditionally. The supreme lover of your soul knows your fault but have no fear. You are pardoned even before you shed that first tear. So, do not fret for it is set. Your destiny with him is secure. In your lover's eyes, you are righteous and pure.

Take heart, you will never lose
 your salvation. For "once saved, always saved" is your timeless invocation. Your name in the book of life will never be erased. For it is a religion of unrestrained love showered on all human race. It is the kind that you do not need to lift a finger. It will smother and it will linger. It loves you from cradle to grave. It is a love that is all the rave.

This divine passion is gracious and kind. It will faithfully guard your front, sides and behind. This love makes good everything. It makes your broken heart sing. It heals 
your damaged self-esteem. It makes good your past transgressions. It makes good your future destination. It makes good everything you can conceive. It is a gift you can freely receive.

This love cannot be disappointed. Whatever your thoughts or actions, it cannot be defeated. You are made whole by it. Not a fraction full. Neither a quarter filled. But you are submerged in it from head to heels. You shall soar on eagle's wings with spirit renewed.

So, you can proclaim that you're born of new
 seed and walk around with them happy feet. Even when you fall, this love will pick you up, pat your back and hold your hand to the end.

This love is prevalent. It is a love that extends to the ends of the earth.
 It is a love that loves you first. So, you can do no wrong when in this love you immerse. This love is also stubborn. It waits with maternal patience. It provides with paternal devotion. It cares with gentle persuasion. Imagine a doting parent for his son. Imagine the same dedication when he goes rogue just for fun. Imagine further how the parent will wait for his return to a lavished celebration tailored just for one.

In this love, you can safely be yourself and act with unfettered discretion. For there is no more condemnation. There is no more confession. There is no more repentance. It is done and it is done. The work is complete and in his spirit, you are one. For this is your loving god, remember? The one you celebrate every December?

The response lies in your sincerest attitude. For in its core is a grace that asks for nothing except your
 deepest gratitude. The hope is that you be filled with a remorse so compelling. To the point that you cannot resist but be changed by this love so undeserving.

The motivation here is to keep you unremittingly grateful. It is this heart of thankfulness that keeps your feet from stain and your soul from shame. This love will inoculate you from sin. And even if you should sin, you are absolved in full without as much as a cringe.

Because you serve a loving god, you get the longest end of the stick. It is so long that 
it stretches to eternity. It is so long that it matches iniquity with immunity. It is a blessed assurance of a fall guy for every fall. With a sleight of the divine hand, your blemish vanishes once and for all.

So, in this journey of faith, you are free to live to your fullest potential. Because like it or not, your past, present and future sins are all rendered inconsequential. Cheerz.