Pete Who?

For Pete's Sake

What in the name of Pete?

For the love of Pete

What did Pete ever do to deserve people taking his name in vain like this?
Except deny the Lord three times.

Three times.

Oh.

About Planetshakers, Tim Hughes and Life Group

On Thursday night, I went to a rock concert, despite having a pounding headache just that morning. But this was one concert I didn't want to miss. Planetshakers were in town, along with the the delicious Tim Hughes and I really wanted to go. So I slept as much as I could, took a couple of ponstan and took the long bus-ride to the Expo.

(Bus rides - I have forgotten how fun they can be when the final destination is a pleasant one. Lately I have only taken the bus to and from work, which is dull at best and dismal at worst.)

But back to planetshakers. I went with some people from church, the oldest of whom, I realised, was 10 years younger than I was. Gack!

But it was cool, because they music was really awesome. There is nothing like the combination of awesome rock music and Christian lyrics to rock the soul. The singers had amazing synchronicity, but to me the star of the show was the drummer. He was superlatively creative with his hits, breaking away from four-beats just enough to add the umph without the distraction. No prima donnas here, that's for sure.

And Tim, with all his sweetness did not disappoint. Albeit a not so exciting drummer, he managed to pour out his heartfelt worship into all his songs and had us all singing aloing with gusto.

(By the way my guiding principle to singing is, "If you can't sing well, sing loud!")

After the concert, I was still in dreamscape mode and managed to lose every one of the 20 people I went with. Turns out, they thought I was in the ladies' while I blissfully walked to the mrt station, beleiving they were behind me. Oh well.

The next night was life group (aka cell group, bible study group among other Christian circles). It was my very first one in a long time, so I was a bit nervous. You see, I don't do deep well. While I am perfectly ok with shooting the breeze, making stupid jokes and once in a while, maybe sharing an intimate detail or two, I don't really do the whole soul-baring thing that being in a life group calls for.

Hence, I usually don't get much out of it. Straight Up bible study is fine, head knowledge. But matters of the heart, I tend to be a bit more zipped about.

But I am determined this time will be different. For one thing, its a smaller group of people, some of whom I already know rather well. And another, I really need to get better at this intimacy thing. It seems to be quite an important part of building a relationship.

Who knew?

Cricket

On my way to work this morning, I passed the large open field that momentarily exists at the fringes of my typical Singaporean town. On the field were a group of foreign workers playing a full scale game of cricket, a sport vary rarely seen outside of the Padang, much less in the neighbourhood towns like where I live.

I thought a while about these guys. Some of them looked like they were South Indian, some Bangladeshi, and they were having a blast, putting aside their language barriers and any problems they may have with social, racial or national issues.

I thought about how far these men were from home, working hard doing manual labour that noone born in this country wants to or needs to do. Clearing trash, laying roads, dugging tunnels, maintaining sewers. The joy they experienced playing a game that brought them the comfort of familiarity was unmatched by us and our affluence.

I am glad they are here. Sure, I am one of those who holds my breath when they sit next to me on the bus after a hard day of sweaty toil. Or disdain their longing stares as I walk down Little India. Or complain a little when they crowd up my air-conditioned shopping malls and cinemas. But I am glad they are here. If not for them, we would live in a cesspit of filth. And miss out on the joys of watching cricket in the morning.

Say What?

Hanan and I were playing a fun game: Think of words that have more than one meaning when used in different contexts. (Ok, this may not seem like fun to most people, but we are strange that way.)

Anyway, we were happily playing along.

Park (as in trees). Park (as in park your car).
Light (illumination). Light (not heavy).
Mouse (rodent). Mouse (computer device)

And suddenly Hanan, my sweet innocent 8 year old goes, "Ice!!!"

"Ice?", I quiz.

"Yeah, ice. As in frozen water or the slang name for the drug, " he announces triumphantly.

I freeze (no pun intended). My baby just alluded to knowledge of crystal methamphetamine,something that, in my perfect utopian world, no kid should know about. Or adults for that matter.
Who has been trying to push ice to my kid?
Where is this monster? Should I call the police?
Should I move?
Should I turn myself in for being a negligent parent, who has inadvertently exposed her kid to drugs?

My voice shaking, my heart pounding, I collect my nerves, steady my voice and ask, "That's good, darling. Now where did you hear about ice?"

"Oh, these guys from CBS, or CNN or something, came to our school during assembly and told us about it. And how drugs can destroy your life."

My mind raced. CBS, CNN.... "CNB? Was it CNB, son?" I ask.

"Yeah, CNB. Came with policemen and all", he informs me nonchalantly.

Ah. The penny drops. Looks like the Central Narcotics Bureau is still doing its rounds at schools, telling kids more about drug abuse and drug varities than any kid has any business knowing.

Good on them. I think.