…only up to its cover. And no more.

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged. And with the measure you use, it will measured to you [Matthew 7:1-2]

Why do we judge?

If we are bold, or humble enough to admit, it is not rare for us to comment on others, especially when it comes to things that don’t suit our perspectives. “He’s so stupid to do that to her..” “Why would she do that?” “What was he thinking??” “I wouldn’t do that if I were her..”, and on, and on, and on. Even when we don’t utter those words verbally, often they cross our minds before we can stop them. 

And why is that so? Because we think we know better, and we want them to think like us. Being an idealist, so to speak, only psychologically. We comment, we judge, because we feel that we know what should be done, but we just don’t bother to make that happen. We’re just spectators, booing a runner or a cyclist from the sideline. Like Pharisees. 

Another reason why we judge is because we feel victimized by what’s been done. “It is okay for me to think this way, because you made me so! Because you give me reasons to do so!” It is soo easy to fall into traps of idealism and self-righteousness when we think that we are the victims. We pity ourselves, we demand people to cater for our self-worth deficiency like it’s some kind of famine, not knowing that by doing this we slowly degrade ourselves. We binge on other’s words and encouragements and soon we’re filled and bloated by empty ‘calories’. We’re fat and unhealthy, and unhappy, eventually. 

I judged someone today, publicly. Well, electronically publicly. And I regretted what I did. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, and should’ve closed my thoughts around that sensitive topic. I should’ve stopped being a mother hen, at least for this person. A popular quote, “don’t judge the book by its cover” hits me on the face, because I just shouldn’t and wouldn’t have anything to do with ‘opening the book and looking inside’ anymore. All that I could do, and comment on was, about the cover. Which was extremely unfair. 

But what’s done is done. I am very sorry. I said that you haven’t changed at all, and that makes the two of us. 

“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” [Matthew 7:3-5]. 

And the irony thing was I did sin against the Lord this morning. I’ve got a plank stuck in my eye and I still dare to comment on the sprinkles in your eye? Why?

I only saw you up to your cover. I’m sorry. I have no intention to look deeper anymore, and that’s worth a double apology. 

And this entry is not about you, I’m not cornering you here. It’s entirely about me. About the lesson God was kind enough to bash me with. In his Purpose Driven Life, Rick Warren said that “we are like jewels, shaped with the hammer and chisel of adversity. If a jeweler’s hammer isn’t strong enough to chip off our rough edges, God will use a sledgehammer. If we’re really stubborn, He uses a jackhammer. He will use whatever it takes” (chap 25,page 196). The last line sent a shudder through my spine when I read it this afternoon, and I think I experienced that first hand right afterwards. 

I am humbled by His love, and how He is willing to teach me to walk with Him according to His routes and His pace, and today He took me to a small walk through you 🙂 And that’s because He loves you, too 🙂 

Thank You, Lord. I got a feeling I wouldn’t be able to sleep before I do something about what happened today, and I’m glad I wrote this little confession. I can only pray that You will continue to stir up my heart to write and write and write, even though that means humiliations and transparency over my integrity. Just keep chipping off my rough edges, my Magnificent Potter, I shall be ready. 

Good night.


Ever heard “what you love the most has the power to hurt you the most”, or something along that line? 

It all started with my intention to lose the excess 2 kgs off my thighs and butts and arms and tummy and wherever wobbly bits are visible along my torso. You may say that “two kgs is not that much, really”, but it is (really) for a small girl, especially when you’re only 1.5m high (or short), or even less. It has been a continual, profound desire to live healthier by hitting the treadmill every evening after work and cutting back cold desserts. I’ve also started visiting the ‘old habit’ that has successfully transformed me from a 52kgs buntelan into a gaunt, skinny 42kgs elf-like 5 years ago; by eating small portions throughout the day, and cutting back carbohydrate. I was only 0.3 points or a kilo away from being underweight according to an online BMI index, Mum went berserk to see me so bony and didn’t stop pestering me to eat until I slowly gone back up to a normal 44-45kgs. And I feel my best when I’m around those numbers. 

But moi body disagrees with me this time. 

First is the gastric ulcer. I’ve had it since my younger age, and it keeps coming back, though I always make sure that I have food in my stomach. I have stacks of Mylanta Forte on my bedside drawer just in case. This stupid ulcer also makes me highly intolerant to milk, yoghurt and coffee, which really kills because I LOVE milk and frozen yoghurt. 

Second is food poisoning. I can’t remember what I ate but I had this baadd baadd food poisoning early this year; nothing stayed in the belly for longer than 20mins I had to bring Norit everywhere I went. The second time I had to suffer the same thing was in mid July. Again I couldn’t figure out what dirt flown into my mouth that I had to become a seasonal pilgrim with short route between my bed and my toilet. Badgering myself with Norit and Mylanta yet again, I finally regained my health with occasional prickly sensation in the tummy at the end of those bad days, which I carelessly brushed off. 

And guess what. I just had it again. Two days ago. This time I knew why I had it. It was because of keripik singkong balado!! 

*throwing a childish whining, crying fit*
*stomping feet on the floor*
*cries some more*

You’ve got to understand this. Keripik Singkong Balado (KSB) is the most delicious snack ever existed on the face of the earth. (DON’T LAUGH! Stop it!). I am salivating over the image of them, they’re like the red thread, or golden thread or wateva colored thread between me and my childhood. I read a quote somewhere that said, “hang on to your childhood, ’cause it’s the only thing you own that’ll stay with you”. KSB is the top representative agent of my childhood moments, and it crushed me to accept that now I can’t even enjoy them without writhing in pain *crushed crushed*. 

Dad took me to the emergency ward at the nearest hospital at 6am yesterday, because I just couldn’t hold the pain any longer. Two Mylanta Forte between 2am and 4am didn’t do any magic. Half hour at the emergency ward lying down on the cot, the calm (or sleepy, I’m not sure. And I can’t blame him, really, he’s got an inhuman shift hour) doctor said that it was a possible colon infection. There goes my KSB. And that explained the prickly sensation I had whenever I ate spicy food. The doctor gave me a strip of antibiotics and another strip of Buscopan. Dad said it’s for the spasm in the colon. U huh, but why do I feel that those pills actually give me spasm inside because I feel bloated right after I take them? And followed by walking down the ‘memory lane’ a.k.a toilet afterwards?

The only bright side out of this whole situation is that, I lost a kilo. In the morning. Hahahaha not bad lah yah. 

Wow, this must be the vainest post I’ve ever written. (I think). But lessons learned. I should’ve known better not to eat anything too much, especially when I know that my tummy has not been in its perfect shape (pun intended. *sigh*)

I just feel a bit reluctant to accept the fact that I have to eat KSB very cautiously from now on. 

Agh.. move on, will ya. Now back to the boring, eyesore-ing data cross-checking.


I learned a lesson today,
that no matter how strong one appears to be, deep down inside
there’s only one need that one desperately craves,

to be loved.

Love gives you hope, it gives you joy.
When you’re in love everything seems right and bright, you feel strong.
You feel belong.

But things go wrong, stories go awry,
because love can be evil when you don’t apply it properly.

I ask for you to never lose hope,
to trust life for a bit more.
It can only get better after this.

Think about those who love you anyway, both for your highs and lows.
Think about the Father, your Creator who mould you with His loving hands,
you are just what He wanted to make.

Believe, that every single molecule of your being is worth loving,
despite your pasts, your scars, and your wrongdoings.

Believe, that life is worth it. And you are worth it.
I love you, and I believe in you.
Please, believe in yourself.