If a man is called be a streetsweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michaelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakesphere wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great streetsweeper who did his job well.
- Martin Luther King, Jr.
There's no such thing as a redundant job, the job is what you make of it.
"Let not the finite limits of your job dictate your effort but let your infinite and utmost limits in God define your job"
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Emptiness amidst fulfilment
With each stride forward or back, we leave footprints in the soil of our heart,
With every step we take, it leaves a deep indentation on our heart and our soul,
A hollow mark waiting to be filled, yet... I ask, what can fill it?
Success? Passion? Enthusiasm? Commendation?
As the wind of memories pass over these holes, it whistles a song,
A song of the marching footprints, a song of it's hollowness,
With every note heard, the heart breaks a little,
What am I doing wrong? What am I doing right? Insecurities build up.
Is it not merely just emptiness in the wake of success?
With every thought of being a salt and light amongst my colleagues and friends. I am made to think about the things I say, the things I do, on trying to keep everyone happy but it's just beyond my limit in these things. Sometimes I'm guilty of momentarily subscribing to the devil's lie that people to a certain degree, are just cynical to whatever good news I bring. If success breeds jealousy, what is the entire point?
These are the times when I'm reminded that success means nothing without the fulfilment and purpose in life that God can bring. Also times when I'm reminded that the Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer. The times when I'm reminded that my success is to the Lord's glory and not to mine.
The reminder that even Jesus had it bad with his own community he grew up in as a man. A reminder of the cross I will have to bear in my life with His strength.These are also the times where I'm thankful for the favour He has shown in my life.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Politics 101
*Taken from a site*
A little boy goes to see his dad and says, "Dad, I have to do a special report for school. Can I ask you a question?"
His father replies, "Sure, son. What's the question?"
The little boy says, "What is politics?"
"Well son, let's take our home for example. I am the wage earner, so let's call me 'Gordon Brown.' Your mother is the administrator of money, so we'll call her 'Alistair Darling.' We take care of your needs, so we'll call you 'The People.' We'll call the maid 'The Working Class,' and your baby brother we can call 'The Future.' Do you understand, son?
"I'm not really sure, Dad. I'll have to think about it."
That night, awakened by his baby brother's crying, the boy went to see what was wrong. Discovering that the baby had seriously soiled his nappy, the boy went to his parents' room and found his mother sound asleep. He went to the maid's room where, peeking through the keyhole, he saw his father in bed with the maid. The boy's knocking went totally unheeded by his father and the maid, so the boy returned to his room and went back to sleep. The next morning he reported to his father.
"Dad, now I think I understand what politics is."
"Good, son! Can you explain it to me in your own words?"
"Well, dad, while Gordon Brown is screwing the Working Class, Alistair Darling is sound asleep, the People are being completely ignored and the Future is full of shit.
A little boy goes to see his dad and says, "Dad, I have to do a special report for school. Can I ask you a question?"
His father replies, "Sure, son. What's the question?"
The little boy says, "What is politics?"
"Well son, let's take our home for example. I am the wage earner, so let's call me 'Gordon Brown.' Your mother is the administrator of money, so we'll call her 'Alistair Darling.' We take care of your needs, so we'll call you 'The People.' We'll call the maid 'The Working Class,' and your baby brother we can call 'The Future.' Do you understand, son?
"I'm not really sure, Dad. I'll have to think about it."
That night, awakened by his baby brother's crying, the boy went to see what was wrong. Discovering that the baby had seriously soiled his nappy, the boy went to his parents' room and found his mother sound asleep. He went to the maid's room where, peeking through the keyhole, he saw his father in bed with the maid. The boy's knocking went totally unheeded by his father and the maid, so the boy returned to his room and went back to sleep. The next morning he reported to his father.
"Dad, now I think I understand what politics is."
"Good, son! Can you explain it to me in your own words?"
"Well, dad, while Gordon Brown is screwing the Working Class, Alistair Darling is sound asleep, the People are being completely ignored and the Future is full of shit.
You're old.. enough.
The hugely "awaited" late twenties.
The age where the numbers after 21 don't matter no more and our birthday motto magically becomes "21 forever"
The age where we're all sucked into a cynical cycle of capitalism and paying for things we don't need like a gym membership which I don't have, HAH! *victory dance*
The age where we become increasingly cynical ourselves, not trusting our colleagues with our own stapler at work.
The age when you face the reality that your childhood dream of earning your first billion before 30 is just another figment of your wonderful imagination unless you're living in Vietnam trading in Dong.
The age where we begin asking people boring first questions like the famous "How's work?" and the topic of every conversation would be about the stresses of work.
The age where we look at younger people who are hugely successful and wonder where we went wrong along the way.
The age where we listen to the latest hit charts and also wonder where it all went wrong along the way.
The age where we proudly tell the younger folk about the "battle scars aka cane marks" we used to have when we did something wrong when we were their age.
And also the age where we look at the teenage generation and mutter under our breath "Hoho, you ain't seen nothing yet young blood, wait till you reach my age.."
The age where skinny jeans is still unacceptable by my standards.
The age where we realise that every single bite of the cake tonight goes straight to our belly the next morning.
The age where people often find themselves in either one side or the other side of eternal glorious bondage.. i mean marriage. Can i hear an Amen from the single people? nyehehehehhehe.
The age where staying up this late warrants for trouble at waking up for work the next day.
Okay. time to be a responsible adult in the late twenties. time to sleep.
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