peace . love . joy

Hello world!

Tonight, I have accomplished what I've never been able to do before... With a lot of help from God. And because it's so fantastic, I want to share it with you:

Earlier this week, after my bath, I realised that my face was tingling in the most uncomfortable manner, in a manner I've never experienced before in my life: it was cold and hot at the same time, and was as though a gazillion needles were poking into my cheeks at once. Thinking perhaps I didn't wash off all the soap properly, I went to the bathroom and vigorously scrubbed my face again. But the discomfort (to put it extremely mildly) remained. I went to sleep last night, the discomfort slowly ebbing away.

The next morning, I awoke and went to wash my face (as I've always done since I was young when I wake up). The hundreds and thousands of needles attacked again! No words could describe how helpless and distraught I was! It was horrible! But I dried my face and the sensations very slowly died away.

In the evening, after my bath, the pain returned, this time as I stood under the shower.

For the next few days, I survived the tinglings, drying my face as quickly as possible and, thinking that perhaps it's because my skin was very dry, dabbed on moisturiser immediately after.

But last night, the sensations did not go away, even after the drying and the moisturising.

Throughout the night, the heat-blazed needles plagued me. I couldn't sleep and I didn't know what to do.

And today morning, the pain had spread to my entire face.

I guess I'm not the sort who likes to go and consult the doctor each time I sneezed or coughed (I much prefer to recover by myself if I can). But this morning, I honestly couldn't stand it anymore. I approached my mother and said, "I'm really sorry, mummy, but can you take me to see the doctor? My face feels like it's on fire."

We ate breakfast, dropped Ellie off at school, and off we went to see the skin doctor at Tampines. I like him, and most importantly, I trust him. He's been my GP and skin doctor since I was little and he's never been wrong or unsure about something.

But this really stunned him. After asking several questions, he decided that the sensations were most likely due to chemicals sprayed in my house, since they only began around the time when the bedbug control people came to spray our furniture, and prescribed me a whole lotta pills (I hate pills. I'd squeeze them in my hand, stand and look contemplatively at them, as though hoping they'd shrink or something. In other words, it'd take me forever to just get the pill into my mouth, let alone swallow.), a face wash and a cream.

The ride home was torture. My face felt like there were a million fishes with nibbly teeth biting away at my flesh, or like bucket-fulls of needles, having passed through fire, were now jabbing mercilessly at my face. I wanted desperately to sleep, to claw my face off, to just get the pain to stop.

We couldn't have reached home soon enough. The moment the front gate was opened, I ran into the bathroom, washed my face with the new prescribed face wash, quickly dried it and slogged on the cream. The tingling sensation returned, but not as vicious as before. I took the smaller tablets (the kind that I would have squashed, but I was too tired), and tried to avoid the big blue capsule.

Mummy noticed and told me to take them.

Brilliant, innit? The doctor just had to prescribe me them big blue capsules, the kind that can't be cut nor crushed. And they simply had to be antibiotics, ie. I've got to finish the whole course. And they just had to be taken two by two in regular six hour intervals.

I tried. They just got stuck and caused me even more panic. I gave up, twisted them open and downed the contents with gulps of water. It was the most disgusting medicine I had ever tasted! Yech!

This evening, after my bath, the face-washing, the cream-slogging, I realised it was time for the two big blue capsules again.

I stood at the counter, punched out two tablets, poured myself a glass of water... And prayed.

Then, I put one pill into my mouth width-wise so that it'd be "easier" to go down, chugged a mouthful of water (which spun the pill into a longer length-wise position), looked up, and... gulped it down!
It went down!
I prayed again for God's help and assurance, gulped again, and down went the second one, and I barely felt a thing!

For those of you who know me, this is nothing short of a miracle.
Me! Megan! Managed to swallow not one, but two gigantic capsules!
I was always rather fearful, and I guess perhaps that fear kept me from being calm and swallowing them nasty pills, clenching my throat at the very moment the pill was about to slide down, making them stuck, and feeding back into my fear of choking.
I always cut my pills in half, or even better yet, squash them between two metal spoons.
What if there were no metal spoons, you ask? Well, I always brought two metal spoons with me whenever the situation called for me to take pills.

So I sit here, on the cold marble floor, savouring the triumph of downing two capsules, proclaiming to the whole world what a marvelous encourager and soother my God is: no trouble too minute nor too lowly for Him.

Thank you, Father Lord.
Thank you for helping me swallow my pills.
Please heal my body, as You've healed my soul.

Amen.

'But reject profane and old wives' fables, and exercise thyself rather unto godliness.

For bodily exercise profiteth little, but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come.

This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance.

For therefore we both labour and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, especially of those who believe.'

~ 1 Timothy 4: 7-10

Paul wrote this epistle, of a very pastoral nature, to Timothy at the novel beginning of the growth and expansion of the first century churches, and at the waning end of the apostolic period. And though such issues as church order, truthfulness of faith and personal discipline were not new, they were again dealt with here in 1 Timothy.

As a brief introduction to the situation young Timothy faced, here, the church of Ephesus was under siege of the ascetic apostates. Paul therefore urged him not to become too embroiled in addressing and refuting such godless and feeble claims, but instead turn his attention toward a far more pressing and worthwhile matter: training himself up in godliness.

And this is what is interesting.

What the New King James Version calls "exercise", the New American Standard Bible calls "discipline", and the Amplified Bible and English Standard Version calls "train", is actually the Greek γυμνάζω, which has two meanings: one of which is to (figuratively) train or exercise. The other usage of the term occurs during actual games. It means to practise naked.

Perhaps I am going out on a limb here, but I think there is a reason why this particular word was used. On the one hand, could be due to the issues presently being dealt with (ie. bodily issues of asceticism versus spiritual intangibles). But I think there is a possibility that it alludes to something much more profound than simply that.

Dictionaries define "naked" as laid bare; exposed; plainly revealed; being without concealment, adornment nor disguise; to be vulnerable.

So to train "naked" or in fact, to do anything naked, allows us to see ourselves in our entirety: in physical training, as what Greeks were accustomed to doing so nude, it allows for clearer understanding of positions and methods, for revelation of mistakes and errors, for pinpointing areas that beg greater improvement. And if we translate that to a spiritual training, a spiritual discipline, a spiritual exercise in efforts to become increasingly godly (note: not god-like), it means we reveal ourselves, our past and present situations, for God, our master trainer, to see, to chastise, to correct, and to nurture (cf. 2 Timothy 3:16).

Our successes, our glories, our triumphs, our certainties... And also our failures, our hurts, our vices, and our uncertainties. All must be plainly exposed without distraction.

And that is not easy. Not many of us think, let alone actually doing it, of praying for God to reveal to us our weakness, our habits of destruction and discouragement, our misconceptions, etc. Most of us don't even like to think of our shortcomings because we're afraid it will lead to our wallowing and inescapable spiraling into self-pity. We don't like to feel we're worthless, we don't like to look at our feebleness. There's nothing wrong with not liking the feeling of worthlessness, there's nothing wrong with not wanting to be discouraged by anything, even more so by our own lives.

What is the point, you ask? Why should we even entertain that notion of praying that we reveal our Achilles heels?

The answer is there: to exercise thyself unto godliness.
It is our calling (2 Peter 1: 1-11). No doubt not an easy call to answer, a tough duty to perform.
But we know this is important and we obey because it pertains to life. In 1 Timothy 4:8, that life is the Greek ζωή, meaning a higher principle, a perfect antithesis to death. It was ζωή that was used here, as opposed to βίος, the physical aspects of life.
We obey because we cling onto the Hope. The Hope that exists beyond and transcends the grave. The Hope that is the living God, the universal Savior of all mankind.

I like what Dr. Constable has written that "(God's) Salvation is sufficient for all but efficient only for those who believe". Presumably that is why Paul wrote that last bit in verse 10. For us believers, we are able to rise from the dark depths of our humanity, rising to the challenge, because we have and know the Hope which is in Jesus Christ, because the 'Joy of the Lord is our strength'.

Perhaps this training was not meant to discourage. Instead, it was meant to build up and strengthen, that through our lives, our strengths and our weaknesses, God may be glorified. Ever wondered why He said what He said in 2 Corinthians 12:9?

In your obedience, be not discouraged.

Don't look at the problem; look at the solution.
Don't look at the difficulty; look at the One who overcame the difficulty.
(Rick Warren, in a recorded series of Encouragement).

It all depends on where you have your eyes on...

So where and what are you looking at?