When I Was Little...

Many were blessed with my sharing during our 3-day fast and prayer. I thought it would be a good idea to post it here as well.

When I was little, my father runs a large snooker business. In his own words, he said that he has easily spent 20 years of his life concentrated within a span of under 10 years…working. He would usually leave the house early, rush home for dinner before he scurries off to work again till wee hours in the morning. Dinner time is probably the only time he gets to spend with me and that would be the time where he fulfils his duty as a father, making sure the house is in perfect harmony, scolds or punishes me when I did something wrong that day. My punishment was to stand by the corner of the house where I'd be left crying for the night. As a young man, growing up, I never had enough time to spend with my father. When my mother was led to Christ, my father had only one comment to make, "You can bring my daughters to church but not my son," since it's the male's obligation and responsibility to carry the family's name and reputation. Please do not get me wrong, as my father is humble, modest in speech but exceeds in his actions, a gentle person by nature. His infectious smile would leave no one standing and his charisma alone would make you want to know him more. Things started to take a turn when my father accepted Christ. He was the last one in the family to accept Christ. He now serves the Lord in a local church, training leaders and positively impacting the lives around him. As my father grew in maturity in the Lord, I see a growth in our relationship as well. We spend a lot of quality time together, exploring Ipoh’s fantabulous food, shopping for computer gadgetry as it was my main interest at that time, bonding with each other on father-and-son trips, lost in engaging and meaningful conversations, always focusing on the Lord and making His imprint our expression. Henri Nouwen wrote, “When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advise, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. A person who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a person who cares.” That person is my father. If there is something left to be said about my father, it would be that he loves me unconditionally, embraces my dreams and desires, embodies my values and supports me during trying times. How could I but only to cherish this relationship with my father? I would not exchange it for anything in the world. He is the greatest hero in my life. Now, we do not spend as much time together as we hope we could but whatever chance that we might have, we spend it as though there's no tomorrow…