After experiencing this for so many years, one would think that I would understand the melancholic condition. But it is alien to me in each occurrence.

Perhaps, this reveals that we were made to be joyful.

If I should die this very moment, I wouldn't fear
For I've never known completeness like being here
Wrapped in the warmth of you, loving every breath of you
Still my heart this moment, oh it might burst

Could we stay right here till the end of time
Until the earth stops turning
Wanna love you until the seas run dry
I've found the one I've waited for

All this time I've loved you and never known your face
All this time I've missed you and searched this human race
Here is true peace here my heart knows calm
Safe in your soul bathed in your sighs

Wanna stay right here till the end of time
Till the earth stops turning
Gonna love you until the seas run dry
I've found the one I've waited for, the one I've waited for

All I've known, all I've done
All I've felt was leading to this
All I've known, all I've done
All I've felt was leading to this

Wanna stay right here
Till the end of time till the earth stops turning
Gonna love you till the seas run dry
I've found the one I've waited for, the one I've waited for

Wanna stay right here
Till the end of time, till the earth stops turning
Gonna love you till the seas run dry
I've found the one I've been waited for, the one I've waited for

The one I've waited for

Finally!

My graduation is come. Despite the ups and downs, the many chaotic days and nights fretting over this one singular day, it has come and gone, and I have testimony for God's faithfulness in all that I have encountered in the past month.

My flatmates told me that I looked blissful and pretty today. There was a lightness in my heart I suppose, which coincided with a fortuitous good hair day, making altogether for a good start to a day of celebration and new beginnings. I felt relaxed and comfortable, which is surprising given that it could have been very stressful indeed. The saga ended with an abrupt change of plans that meant that my aunt, uncle, and my mother could not attend my graduation. I felt at a loss, in fact. In the moment that they had chastised me and persuaded me that it was imperative that my mother should come, I had indeed changed my mind despite a sense of disbelief that they would actually be here in a matter of days. I just dismissed that feeling and resigned myself to the fact that the tickets were bought, and all things were set in stone.

It was a big leap for me to believe that God was going to take care of it all, that it was going to be a good day that was going to be in His grace. I had no idea what the day was going to shape into, but I took the leap to trust that He was going to take care of it. It was going to work out.

Two days ago, I called home and a despondent voice informed me that my mother had run away a day ago, that they had to issue a missing persons report, and that the police had to go to find her. She was resting, and was probably far too weak to board a long-distance flight and attend my graduation. I prayed out with all my heart afterwards, praying that somehow my mother would be able to get onto the plane and she would be able to come. There was no other thought in that moment, just pure wish that my mother would be here. I knew that I was going to miss my mother on this day. It was a revelation to me. I suppose that somewhere this always existed in me. It merely co-existed with other concerns, previously, and was now brought to the fore.

There was one crucial day, and when I finally got through to my mother, she herself told me that she was far too ill to come to graduation. It was final. The plane tickets for all three parties were cancelled, and I was cut loose. Not in the sense that I have escaped from the fire, but rather that I was 'let down' in some way. The anticipation that I myself had built up for the arrival of my mother and my relatives suddenly dissipated without any other recourse than to settle with the way things were. I knew always that I was going to feel the absence of her presence. I just never wanted it to come about this way.

The day happened faster than I thought it would, but all the small things gathered together and it was more enjoyable than I had thought it possible. A last minute change of plan meant that I was able to attend Ritsya's ceremony before mine. Her beaming face and the magnificence of McEwan Hall prepared my heart, and made me feel less anxious about the proceedings of mine. I had felt carefree all day, which was a welcome break when I had been under stress and strain for so long.

We had a leisurely lunch after Ritsya's ceremony (which, incidentally, featured the CEO of the Coca Cola company, Muhtar Kent, as a speaker) at 'Olly Bongo's' before heading to a 'photoshoot' (kindly done by our friend Simon Le Parc) and my very own ceremony. As harried as I was (since my heels had accidentally ripped my tights just before the ceremony and I had to change into a fresh pair), the moment that I sat down in my allocated seat, I felt such a sense of calm and purpose. I was truly content, in that moment, to be there and to receive some sort of accolade for this arduous four year journey. It really felt like the end. I looked down the row of seats, and all the familiar faces that came in and out of the classroom looked back at me. We smiled, took photos, cheered for each other, and were excited. We were finally going to be recognised for the effort that we had put in.

Despite the various grievances we've had with the university, the speakers and solemnity of the ceremony made me come to terms with the fact that I was actually graduating from a hall of academic excellence. For that moment, I felt what I had initially desired from the university experience. I felt the richness of the academic atmosphere that was so drowned out amidst the rushed deadlines and idle hours between or even within the classes. It all came together to bring a sense of pride that I was part of this university. I felt content with what I had achieved. I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

The ceremony ended and we were free to be ourselves again. The day ended with us gathering in Caffe Nero, returning our robes, having a private moment in the then abandoned McEwan Hall that was primed for another day of ceremony, walking in the rain, and finally having a fun and casual dinner at Nando's down in Fountainbridge. I was with people that I loved deeply, I was laughing, and I was in a place both physically and emotionally that I had not believed that I would be just a few weeks ago. There was no need for any fanfare, I was simply happy.

It was one of the most perfect days, made sweeter by the fact that my mother had arranged to send me flowers as well. She was there, in some way, and that did make my day. But without God, none of this would have worked out in the way that it has. I wouldn't have joy, I wouldn't have had peace, and it wouldn't have been so perfect. I give this day to the glory of God, and I'm so glad that I am His.

In Christ's Love,

Christina.

I'm graduating. I knew it was always a problem in the coming, but I had not anticipated the degree of backlash that I am to face at the present. Four years in the coming, and now it comes. I forgot, somewhere in the middle, about the gravity of this issue, and I saw it as no more than another day. Ordinarily, it would not be a big deal at all. Ordinarily, one's parents would come to the city of study, meet with the graduand, exchange pleasantries, throw a couple hats, take some photographs, and proceed to move on with their lives. But I have always been aware that I do not belong in the ordinary.

It's not unusual to have divorced parents. It's certainly not unusual for situations between the divorced couple to be tense or awkward. This is not the issue. The deadly equation is one where divorce meets continual pain and mental disorder under threat of suicide. I only wish that I am dramatising. The scars of years of violence, tears, pain, and abuse between my parents are all too fresh for me, so that I no longer see them as being able to partake in the same events or indeed exist at the same time in any given point of my life. Indeed, the amount of lies and deception that I am made to use in interactions between them (don't tell your father this! don't tell your mother that!) has exhausted and grieved me to the point that I am extremely tense at times when I need to contact one party about the other. My individual relationships with my mother and father has taken on this pressure, and I have only learned how to manage them better in recent years.

Over the years I agonised at the prospect of either of my parents not being there at my graduation, and soon I accepted that this was to be so. At present, I'm not sure whether this is going to turn out well or not, but I'm adopting a 'come what may' attitude. And prayer. Lots of prayer.

I've always known that university and seeing me graduate is one of my father's greatest dreams. The very fact that he himself never had the opportunity to is one of the greatest regrets of his life, and in this way, I am not averse to the idea of him living vicariously through me. Year after year has been robbed of him since I was 14, when we no longer lived under the same roof, and I wanted one thing for him. Something that is of actual importance and memory for the two of us, apart from brief meetings of some hours over the course of every few weeks. I know and knew that this was important for my mother as well, but the chance that this might provoke intense emotional turmoil for her and also the fact that in my mind, they cannot co-exist, I did believe that this was a hard decision to make but one that I had to.

By the mercy of God I actually ended up having a conversation with my mother during my Christmas break, where we spoke quite frankly of the obstacles in the way, and it appeared to me that we had made a definitive decision as to the graduation. She was not going to come, and I thought of alternative means for her to 'take part' (there will be, apparently, a live broadcast of it on the internet). It was a pity, but in the face of the circumstances, that was the choice that we made.

It was such a relief to me. Finally, after dwelling on this for four years. After all that fear and wondering. It was sorted. Somehow.

I knew that it wasn't going to be some fanciful affair. That's not my father's style. I never imagined some sort of grand display of joy and affection. Our relationship's degenerated from that long ago. It wasn't going to be fairytales and rainbows with my father. But I did enjoy the idea of spending some time with my father. Perhaps it may further our relationship a bit more.

About a week ago, I received a phone call that I was not able to pick up. I thought that it was my mother, so I called her, whereupon I heard the familiar tone of grievous sadness and depression in her voice. She asked me whether I had called because of what she had written on her blog. I had absolutely no idea what she was referring to, but before I could ask, she had already hung up the phone.

It took me several hours before I could access her blog. When I read it, it was as if I was struck in the face. It was a tirade directed straight at me, speaking of my cruelty and rejection of my mother, about how I am abandoning her at my graduation. This was to continue in email form for the whole of last week, writing about my lack of love for her, about how I never welcomed her presence at any of my birthday parties, how I choose my friends over her.

I was sapped of any strength to reply. I tried the best that I could, explaining to her that it wasn't for the lack of love that I did what I did, and I tried my best to explain that we had already discussed this in December. What she had thought to be signs of rejection (i.e. not 'formally' inviting her to my graduation) may have just been the fact that I thought that this was sorted and therefore never made any advances to the contrary. How was I to choose between my parents? I could never really choose to love one over the other. For me, it was seen as a balance. She had been invited with all my heart, to virtually every performance, every thing of great importance to me in highschool when formalities were still of great great meaning to me. I had put my heart and soul into everything that I did then, especially dramatic performances where there were times that I had written or directed the plays. Singing performances as well are still memories that I hold on to with such fervency. It's still a pride and joy to me. And although there were times where I would be so happy to know that my mother was there to support me, I would often be so heartbroken by the complete lack of response or support at some events where she attended. Some of my most important events, she was not even there due to the fact that she was going through an episode or we were arguing in some way. This is of deep regret to me, and I'm not blaming her, since it wasn't anybody's fault really. The pain, however, endures.

It was a balance, that my father could come to something that he might care more about than I, that he could finally attend some 'event' in itself is meaningful to me. By now, I care little about academic formalities and events, and I prize personal growth, especially spiritual growth more than these. I'd rather be a better person in Christ than be lauded with ceremony. I've simply forgotten to place myself in my mother's shoes with regards to this. I forgot that deep down, my mother cares about ceremony. Where do I split? What do I listen to? Concern for my mother or concern for myself? My living has not taught me to find balance between the two. It's either all or nothing. All of her and nothing of me, or the other way around. Self-preservation.

All at once, my grievances, experiences, and pain over all the years came flooding back. Yesterday was critical to me. I was so gripped in agony that I could barely think, or hear from other people, let alone pray. I was slumped at my desk because I could not lift myself up from it, and my head was clenched in tension as if it would indeed explode. I just could not receive God's love for me. Or anybody else's, for that matter. I knew I was pushing it away in my pain. I rejected it all.

My pastor's prayer and prophecy kept coming back to me: God knows about the fact that you've not had a good relationship with your dad, and you've had to be strong for yourself. God wants to tell you that He's there for you as the Father, you can lean on Him. You just need to lean back.

But I couldn't.

I was fighting it. I was scared, and I was doubtful. Years and years of protecting myself from the pain of living with someone with Borderline Personality Disorder finally hit boiling point where a problem within me was made known: I am having great difficulty with receiving love.

Day after day during this week it's been difficult to reach that place of peace in my heart, where I am so overwhelmed by God's love for me, the meaning of Jesus' sacrifice for me that I just can't deny it. I've not been letting God in, and I lost my way. I just didn't know how to. So I kept crying out. There were moments of great clarity, where I was so filled with God's Spirit and love. And then I'd recede into chaos.

Yesterday was chaos.

I found rest after last night. Matters had been somewhat resolved. My mother is coming. Along with my aunt and uncle. Deep down, I know that God is sorting this out for me, but I'm still sticking my head into the pain, rooting around in it, hoping for some compassion for something that I really just need to receive God's healing for. I'm scared of their time here being worse than what this week has been: more shouting at me for making the wrong decision, more nit-picking and making me feel worthless, more of manipulating me to do that which I truly do not want to. I'm scared that I'll lose more of myself in the throes of other people's demands. I want to go to my relatives and say: This is what I've experienced. This is how I feel! Listen to me. Why won't you understand?

But I've got to let it go.

I slept last night, having prayed beforehand and reaching some peace within my heart. I awoke today with a phone call from my mother, with a much calmer and restored tone, which subsequently has resolved some tension in my heart. I'm very grateful for this, but my heart still urged me to pray.

As I prayed, I was finally able to let go and let God's love into my heart. I was amazed by it. I really truly felt His tenderness and kindness towards me. He urged me to read of the story of the Prodigal Son in the Bible, and I teared up again, but in joy. He restored me, and just as I was ending my time of prayer, I received a vision.

I saw this beautiful pink peony tinged with indigo to one side. It came at me, flowering before the vision vanished. The vision took my breath away, and at once I knew in my heart that it was from God. I sensed that it was an answering to something that I've prayed long and hard about: God, show me how you see me, please, because I can barely understand or 'see' myself right now. I care to know how you see me, God.

The irony is, I've never really liked peonies that much. I thought that they were a bit garish, a bit too much, and thus a bit ugly. But as if all at once, I immediately thought it was beautiful. I guess I could see all those qualities as being a part of me. But I'm just overwhelmed at the fact that God thinks that I'm beautiful, lively, and strong.

I researched the Peony on wikipedia, and I thought that this was rather apt:

"Once planted the Peony likes to be left alone and punishes those who try to move it by not flowering again for several years. Once established, however, it produces splendid blooms each year for decades (Taken from The Language of Flowers, edited by Sheila Pickles, 1990)"

God sees me, just as I am, without embellishment, and He wants to see the best in me.

I'm amazed by that.

In Christ,

Christina.

心如刀割

2 Corinthians 4
Treasures in Jars of Clay
1Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. 2Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God. 3And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. 4The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 5For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. 6For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness,"[a]made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

7But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. 12So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

13It is written: "I believed; therefore I have spoken."[b]With that same spirit of faith we also believe and therefore speak, 14because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you in his presence. 15All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.

16Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

Sunny side up with a side dish of Macabre.

I admit it. I do want to make money so that I can buy crazy-ass things.