Another Blog

http://hiappy.tumblr.com/

2010-04-08T14:23:00.000-07:00

http://hiappy.tumblr.com/

haha.

2010-04-06T20:51:00.001-07:00

maybe I should get tumblr. It looks nice.

Professionalism Fail

2010-03-29T10:51:00.000-07:00

So I was doing office hours for QBC, and the phone rang. I picked up, and answered as I was supposed to: 'Hello Queen's Business Consulting, Ivan speaking, how may I help you?'

To which he responded, "Uhm is Orr around?"

At this moment I thought it was a fellow consultant calling, Brook or Phil, I couldn't tell, so I casually replied, "Nah man, Orr's not around."

Turns out it wasn't a fellow consultant. Turns out it was a client. Sigh. Professionalism fail. I hope he's one of our non-profit projects....

Ego Eagle.

2010-03-25T19:06:00.000-07:00

Though this post is titled 'Ego Eagle,' eagles actually have nothing to do with this post. I just like how 'eagle' sounds like 'ego.' Anyway.

I noticed something strange about my weight-lifting behavior. I noticed that I have a habit of attempting to impress guys as opposed to girls. You'd think that I'd try to impress girls via lifting heavier weights when girls are around, but nah, not at all. To the contrary, I become a very modest lifter when girls come around the lifting area. My weight-lifting behaviors become much more self-conscious, and I stop all grunting behavior (I usually grunt a lot when I lift).

So this stirred some thought. Why do I make sure other Asian males see me lift heavyass weights and not care about whether girls see me lift heavyass weights?

I think I am a victim of man's natural tendency to establish themselves as alpha male. It's like when other asian guys come around, I default to a very primitive mindset of, 'yeah you better know I lift more than you, you better know I got guns' Oh ego. Oh insecurity.

While this sort of behavior, in the context of the weight room, is only silly and humorous (and slightly non-straight....), this sort of behavior/mentality becomes very problematic should I extend it to a spiritual context.

'yea better know I'm more spiritual than you' is a very problematic mindset, and is completely inconsistent with spiritual maturity and the attitude of Christ.

oh Lord, spare me from myself!

pretty girl.

2010-03-25T18:45:00.000-07:00

I saw an extraordinarily pretty girl today (saw her 3 times today actually). It appears she too frequents the library.

And I thought to myself, "WHY ARE YOU SO PRETTY?!"

Seriously, this question deserves some thought. Or rather, this topic deserves some thought. What is the significance of beauty? What is the significance of physical beauty from a Christian perspective? Is God mindful of our unique perception of physical beauty? Has the idea of physical beauty, and the importance thereof, change from OT times to NT times? That is, did Jesus do anything to change our ideas of physical beauty, and the importance and relevance thereof? How does God view physical beauty?

I don't know.

2010-03-15T07:12:00.001-07:00

It just occurred to me, most men don't keep blogs.

It's okay. I can keep this blog. Yes, yes I can. I am confident enough in my manliness to do womanly things like keeping a blog or wearing pink (fyi, I don't wear pink).

Yeah.

G. K. Chesterton

2010-03-07T17:18:00.000-08:00

Question:

What's Wrong with the World?

Response:

Dear Sirs,

I am.

Sincerely yours,

G. K. Chesterton

to reason

2010-02-26T17:24:00.000-08:00

I was thinking, or rather, lamenting, how most people consider Christianity (and religions in general) to be incompatible with reason. To believe in a God of any form is heresy to logic, perversion to reason, and neglect of intellect.

I disagree; I think Christianity, and religions in general, are compatible with a sound intellect. As well, I happen to think I have a sound mind, and also happen to believe in Jesus Christ.

I think the mere existence of intellectually sound people - Newton, Lewis, Milton and Pascal, to name a few - who profess allegiance to both God and reason, is reason enough to think twice about the legitimacy of religion in an intelligent mind. Somehow, these geniuses of the past were able to find a common ground between their reason and their faith.

Newton supposedly penned more books on Christianity than on physics and calculus; Lewis converted from Atheism to Christianity while he was a professor at Oxford; Milton, the great English author, read his Bible in Hebrew, and Pascal is as notable for his faith as he is for his math.

All I'm saying is, perhaps it is reasonable to believe in religion of one form or another.

"Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and all your mind."

job search et al

2010-01-23T05:45:00.000-08:00

I take not delight in this process, even if I do end up getting the job. This is because my victory means someone's defeat, and my fortune is another's misfortune. More hope for me means hope snuffed out of my classmates and friends. Dammit.

To know that I am the cause of someone else's overwhelming sense of defeat....

And another thing - after going through this process, I find it a very difficult thing that anyone would be able to put fluff/ lie on his or her resume. I think the guilt of getting a 2nd round or a final round cus of some lie I said would seriously overwhelm me, especially when I know I have friends who probably deserve the job as much as I do. So I don't really know how people do it - this lying on his/her resume deal. Does not their conscience overburden them? Does not guilt, shame, plow through their minds? Does not conscience suffocate?

Anyway. Even though I don't like making others feel like crap, I still want the job. It's what I've been slaving my ass off for the last couple of years, right? So yeah, wish me luck. Better yet, pray for me.

I will know if I'm employed as a S&T guy by Monday. I just returned from the big city yesterday for 2 different trading floor final rounds.

comforter

2010-01-17T08:33:00.000-08:00

the all things grand,
the all things whole,
bothers with the broken
amends our mold

with a hug in distress
a gentle caress
He is One who listens softly
opposite of hardly

note:
to my pessimistic friend who may or may not be reading this, who has very little confidence in my vocal endeavors, who just keeps on hatin' yo - it's your turn to share a poem.

dash to the past

2009-12-19T22:34:00.001-08:00

I remember it was a Wednesday, the first Wednesday of my life at my new boarding school in Taichung, about 8 hours away from home. I was thirteen. I didn't know how to do laundry, I didn't know how to cook, I didn't really know jack. I had much to learn... And learned I did when my white clothes came out blue from the laundry.

So on this Wednesday, I met my roommmate of four years the first time in my life. He grew up in a drug rehab center (his parents run it), and he kinda looked like a guy who just got out of rehab. He got settled into the room, and all of a sudden pulls out a one foot machete (in mandarin, 'watermelon knife') from his pillow.

Abe, our suitemate, walks in.

He laughs and says, 'remember last year how you were cut Greg to pieces with that thing and Joey had to hold you down? hahahah'

Man, I remember being so freaked out. I was thirteen, first time away from home for such a long time, first time to have to be independent, and what do ya know my roommate looks like a legit gangster, and might just hack me to pieces with that machete of his. Life is tough, yo. I slept with my wallet under my pillow that first night, thinking if I had to run I can quickly grab my wallet first. Hahaha. So naive.

Looking back it wasn't so bad. He turned out to be an excellent roommate, and we got along just fine and lived together for our four years of high school. Two years into our roommate-ship I found out he was my distant cousin. It was kinda weird.

btw, there is no moral to this story. Was kinda just remembering things.

Pascal's Wager

2009-12-17T14:11:00.000-08:00

Endeavour then to convince yourself, not by increase of proofs of God, but by the abatement of your passions. You would like to attain faith, and do not know the way; you would like to cure yourself of unbelief, and ask the remedy for it. Learn of those who have been bound like you, and who now stake all their possessions. These are people who know the way which you would follow, and who are cured of an ill of which you would be cured. Follow the way by which they began; by acting as if they believed, bless yourself with holy water, have Masses said, and so on; by a simple and natural process this will make you believe, and will dull you—will quiet your proudly critical intellect...

Now, what harm will befall you in taking this side? You will be faithful, honest, humble, grateful, generous, a sincere friend, truthful. Certainly you will not have those poisonous pleasures, glory and luxury; but will you not have others? I will tell you that you will thereby gain in this life, and that, at each step you take on this road, you will see so great certainty of gain, so much nothingness in what you risk, that you will at last recognize that you have wagered for something certain and infinite, for which you have given nothing

- Blaise Pascal

laughter, the medicine

2009-12-09T18:27:00.000-08:00

cheer up (link)

on joy

2009-11-29T19:10:00.000-08:00

I remember, in the deepest jungle village that we lived in, there was this village pastor. He too was a missionary, and was from another province of Indonesia. I remember him because he always seemed genuinely joyful. I don't think I ever referred to him by his name, instead calling him by the indonesian term 'pa,' a term of respect reserved for older men.

so 'pa' didn't really have much material goods. He had a tiny, though newly built, wooden house (with holes in it) perhaps slightly larger than my room. He didn't really have much furnitures. We always sat on the floor of his house. When he needed water to cook or flush with he'd have to fetch it from the brown river down a hill. To get drinking water he'd have to boil brown river water, then leave it under the sun for a day. Oh, and, his church's floor is made of dirt. Yah, you probably get the picture.

So here we have 'pa' the poor preacher, poor in the typical National Geographic sort of way, but constantly as joyful as a joyful person can be. I think this guy's existence - his constant joy, his perpetual smile - is a slap in the face of our idea that he/she with the most toy has the most joy.

For all the critical thinking that our education has taught us, we've somehow ironically missed out on the most important type of critical thinking - critical thinking on life. We seldom think critically about our value systems, where we get our sense of worth, why we want the things we want, etc....

Solitude: An Ode, by Alexander Pope

2009-11-13T12:55:00.000-08:00

Apparently, the man (or rather, boy), wrote this when he was only twelve. If I ever had a child who had this frame of mind, this perspective on life, this clarity, when he or she is only twelve, then I'd be a proud father indeed. Damn proud.

Solitude: An Ode
by Alexander Pope

How happy he, who free from care
The rage of courts, and noise of towns;
Contented breaths his native air,
In his own grounds.

II.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

III.
Blest! who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide swift away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

IV.
Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.

V.
Thus let me live, unheard, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me dye;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lye.

A Necessary Divorce

2009-11-03T19:28:00.000-08:00

I think, alot of us link our worth, satisfaction, value, upon the wobbly pedestal of achievement. The whole of our identity is wrapped around this three legged chair.

I am certainly a victim of this myopic perspective, certainly jailed within this very burdensom value structure. Frankly, I have trouble divorcing my sense of self worth from my ability to achieve. Perhaps this is a common problem amongst men, and particularly so to those in Commerce.

I realized this because I've been getting some not so ideal grades recently. My RELS 210 prof is not in the habit of giving the A grade. First quiz a 70. First paper a 74. Dammit prof! It's very demoralizing. Though I decided early on in the year that I would relax more, enjoy life more, and not establish my identity and self worth around academic achievement, getting these sad grades have shown me that my attempt to divorce self worth from grades has been futile. My adverse emotional response is the primary indicator of my failure.

How do I seperate my sense of self worth from academic success? How do I convince myself that grades, in the grand scheme of things, don't really matter. How do I base my worth and identity solely on my relationship with God, something that's completely based on Him and what He's done and nothing to do with me and what I've done? How do I rest assured in His high opinion of me that is not based on what I've done at all?

I've long held the opinion that the real winners in life are the ones who understand they don't need to 'win.' That is, the ones who have chosen to step out of the rat race of achieving society's concept of success, but have decided to pursue their individual values and goals, regardless of the opinions of society. I thought that these folks would be the ones who gets to enjoy real freedom and satisfaction.

It appears it's harder to be one of these folks than I thought it'd be, and that the rat race is not only a race but also a maze.

meaningless post

2009-11-01T20:53:00.000-08:00

so, i'm still not studying for my RELS 210 quiz. It appears this illness (see last post) has gotten the better of me.

I got a thousand thoughts running through my head. Actually, no, I don't. I only have a few, and believe me, one or two is bothersome enough as it is. I can't imagine having a thousand thoughts rampaging through this weak and delicate mind of mine. uhh.

So what are the few thoughts I'm thinking of? The few thoughts that have mercilessly latched themselves upon me, refusing to let go until some sort of resolution is reached, or until slumber dulls my memory. So what are they?

Dear readers, wouldn't you like to know.

On another note, a friend of mine got jumped yesterday. Post-jumpage he texted me, "Dude I just got jumped, call me." I thought he was just being annoying/ trying to get me to go out so I ignored him. Turned out he actually got jumped.

This is something I'll remember of college.

fostering a dream

2009-11-01T16:57:00.000-08:00

At this moment I should be, but I'm not, studying for my RELS 210 quiz tomorrow. Instead, I've fallen victim to my habit of reflecting about life, meaning, worth, purpose, and other unproductive thoughts. This disposition to think about such thoughts have a tendency to encroach upon me at the most inopportune time. For example, right now.

At this moment, I am thinking about my dreams - my purpose for being - my goals, and what exactly I'm here, on earth, for. And, on a more myopic level, what exactly I'm doing in university, at the school of business, studying finance. The why of it all.

I've discovered, or rather realized, that there is an obvious disconnect between what I'm doing here to what I want be doing. My short term goal and my long term dream do not match.

Frankly, I'm only here to get high enough grades to get a job. Basically, I'm here to get paid. And Ihave no shame in saying that. I don't think wanting money is a bad thing; there's nothing wrong in wanting money. The morality of money is dependent upon the motivation for money.

And I think I got good motives. If not, at least decent motives.

I would like to honor my parents; I want to honor my dad with a nice car before he hits 60. I would one day like to have a family; I want to be financially competent to support this family. I would like to be financially independent; I don't want to be relient upon the bank of dad forever. Decent motives, right? Certainly not evil.

Alas, money is just practical. I'd rather not build my life around obtaining it. I just need enough....

I think everyone is made for a purpose, and I think I am made to preach, to talk about a God who doesn't suck. A God who not only is, but who can, and who will. A God Almighty who is actually Almighty.

I remember the first time I preached. It was at the podium of The Good Shephard's Church in the GC. Man I felt alive, and completely comfortable. It was as if I was finally doing what I've been made to do. I felt like my whole genetic make up - my low voice, my relatively large stature, my tendency to reflect, my eagerness to learn - was made for this purpose of vocally elaborating on a God who is indeed God and who has every ability and willingness to be God Almighty to this world. Yes, at that moment I felt alive, and the whole of it, felt right. Correct. Proper. Exactly fitting. Right.

To me, there is no higher calling than to speak about a God who actually is God.

back in the 'real' world

2009-10-13T19:53:00.000-07:00

I am now 4 weeks into the rat race of university life. The same monotony reoccurs, day after day. Wake up. Go to class. Study. Sleep. Repeat. Not very fulfilling.

It's very different from the orphans, the river baths, the jungle, the unforgiving sun, the band of international strangers, that I've grown very accustomed to. Very different.So it appears - life as a full time student of commerce share few similarities to life as a full time student of God.

Persian

2009-07-28T22:24:00.001-07:00

A couple of days ago I met a Persian. In other words, an Iranian man, a man from the very-foreign-to-me land of of the Middle East.

Previous to this, me in my infinite wisdom, thought that everyone from the exotic land of the Middle East were Arabic. I was wrong. This man was a Persian, a person of a civilization that was once ravished by Arabic raiders. He wasn't brown. :S

I was later told that the difference between an Arab and a Persian is this: Arabs want to fight you, but Persians just want to dance with you.

I like Persians. Especially this Persian, Ali. Ali likes to think.

I remember walking up to his kabob shop with my 50 something year old friend Bernie (soon to be doctor Bernie, a white man who speaks fluent Arabic) and meeting Ali the Persian by chance.

We saw him smoking right outside of his shop, and Bernie walked up to him and said the typical Arabic greeting, "A Salaam ah'laykuum." Peace be with you. Ali kinda just gave him a 'huh?' face.

This is when I learned that not everyone from the Middle East is Arabic, and that many of them don't speak Arabic. Apparently some of Middle Easterners are Persians.

So we started chatting with Ali from Iran/Persia in English. He spoke very good English, though he's only been here for 3 years. Apparently he speaks good English because he read a lot, so much that he can't sleep without reading. He told us that unlike many of his countrymen, he wasn't Muslim, and that he didn't want to go back to Iran. He told us how he was so frustrated by the government there, and how he just can't go back....

He told us that in his life he has seen two people dead on the streets of Iran, probably for offending the Iranian government in one way or another. He told us how he doesn't believe in the Qu'ran, though he has read it many times. He's sick of all the "kill, kill, kill." that it commands.

He's read the Bible three times, in English, and really likes Jesus. We were able to share with him our testimonies and how God got us through tough times. We were also able to share with him the gospel. By the end of the second time that we met him, he was giving his life to Christ.

Praise God.

out of the jungles, alive in Aus

2009-07-15T18:40:00.000-07:00

Dear world,

sorry for the lack of updates. I've been living in Indonesian jungle villages - bathing in brown rivers, being served hot dog for dinner (hot because it's spicy, and dog because it's dog) and sweating under the relentless Indonesian sun. As you may or may not know, jungle villages, at least the Indonesian variety, are typically not wired to the world wide web....

And that is my excuse for not updating this blog.

I am now back in Australia, and will soon return to the motherland, and eventually back to k-town.

I will update y'all with stories when I get less tired.

cheers

Palm Tree Village and Bethel Church (Indonesian Version)

2009-05-31T20:39:00.000-07:00

we traveled on bumpy dirt roads for two, three hours out of Perkanbaru, into acres and acres of palm trees. Nestled somewhere in the midst of the palm tree plantation rests Bethel Church Indonesia and a little village.

During one of our prayer/ youth service ministry, I felt an slight tingle on my left hand. I felt like God was telling me to lay hands on the head of a seventeen year old girl sitting near me. Initially I hesitated, not knowing whether or not it was culturally appropriate for a male to touch a female's head. Eventually I thought, ah what the crap, it's God's fault if it is inappropriate. So I lay hands on her head. As soon as I touched her head she fell back.

I opened my eyes and started laughing. It was kinda weird; nothing like this has ever happened to me before.

Tomorrow we travel for three hours to an island village. God be with us!

the millionaire who lives in an orphanage

2009-05-27T02:36:00.000-07:00

the wall is one centimeter thick. its length and width is such that it doesn't actually cover the entire space between my room and the orphans' room; it's a one centimeter thick plywood wall with a huge gap at the top.

cough. cough. cough. cough. cough. the kid with the dry cough wakes me up in the middle of the night, again. i dont think i've ever heard a kid cough like that. i wished i were a doctor. then i could do something.

the poverty is somewhat strange. outside of the orphanage there is definitely poverty - shacks, garbage, shoddiness in general. but drive 5 minutes up the road on the dinky green van/bus with the loud techno, then you see a giant mall, full of electronics and name brands. Really, very, strange.

the kids are intense. they get up at five in the morning everyday to worship and pray. there is something very humbling about seeing a five year old kid, dirty and grimy, up at 5 am, praying with eyes tightly shut, and beseeching God to grant the orphanage this or that... oh, and they do the whole routine again at 9.30 at night.

I've come to a very different place. praise the lord for the abundance that He has provided us. Praise the lord for the ministry that He has provided us. praise the lord praise the lord praise the lord.

the why

2009-05-22T19:03:00.000-07:00

I'm leaving for Indonesia tomorrow. I think it's somewhat strange that I'm here, in Australia, about to leave for Indonesia. About to voluntarily live in sketchy conditions, eating potentially sketchy food, and maybe even getting sketchy sicknesses. Who knows.

Some of you may wonder why I left school in the first place. It wasn't that I wasfailing classes and had nowhere to go. I wasn't. I was doing really well. I am a common Asian library rat. I get As. (and occasionally Bs).

In fact it was because I was doing very well that I decided I'd leave. Doing well in school, doing well in extracurriculars, and finding no meaning in what I did - at all - compelled me to look further, beyond the confines of Queen's University....

Really, if God is indeed God, life must be so much more than what I was experiencing back in university. There must be more joy. There must be more love. There must be more excitement. Life must be life.

One of the first revelation I had of God when I first met Him was that this Jesus thing doesn't suck. I met God-who-doesn't-suck. It was fun, exciting, full of joy, and I had a really good time with this God. I somehow lost track of this God that I knew when I got to university, and I guess I was hoping that I could find Him (or better yet, He could find me), in Australia, in Indonesia, and eventually in Kingston as well.

Eagle Boy

2009-05-19T20:43:00.000-07:00

He looked at Rochelle with a curious smile.

Rochelle, our 40 years young outreach leader stared back at him, hoping for more of a response. Yes?

The man who worked at Eagle Boys, an Australian pizza chain, finally responded, and told her that for the five years that he's worked at Eagle Boys Surfers Paradise (a very busy place), something like this has never happened to him.

Rochelle, being led by God, felt like she was supposed to give the stranger working in Eagle Boys a gift, and also tell him something. Not knowing what to tell, she asked for prayer from a couple of other team members. After prayer, she felt like she was supposed to go up to the Eagle boy, give him a gift, and tell him that God wants to be his friend.

So she did. And he responded. He was astonished.

Apparently, earlier in the day, a random American woman went up to him and said the exact same thing. "God wants to be your friend." Nothing like this has ever happened to him in the five years that he's worked there.

dreams

2009-05-16T00:27:00.000-07:00

I've had a number of weird dreams. One in particular, that I'd like to share now, is how I got into Queen's Commerce.

I was initially rejected. Yes, I'm a reject. Stepping out of first year, and learning that I had a profound disgust for the sciences, I decided that I would try to get into Commerce. I was told "it was a good program." Heck, why not. Beats science.

So I applied. I thought I'd get in. I had straight As in first year. I had a scholarship in Hebrew. I was student council president in high school. Why wouldn't I get accepted?

Then a day came when I received an email that told me I had not been accepted, was wait listed, and the competition was fierce, that they thanked me for applying, that they had many competent applicants bla bla bla, you have a great personality, bla bla bla.

I was rejected. I was angry. I thought, "man, I already worked my ass off, already tried my best...yet my best is not good enough." Poop.

I thought that the Lord Most High had forgotten about me. I questioned God. I thought, man, every time something good happen we say, "thank God!" But whenever something crappy happens, we say, "God works in mysterious ways."

I replied to Queen's Commerce, told them that I'd gladly go on the wait list. Then not much later I went to Baoji, China for a missions trip that I didn't want to go on.

While I was in China, I had a dream. In the dream, I was checking my email, and there was an email from Queen's Commerce. In the email, it congratulated me on getting accepted to Queen's Commerce, and asked me what career I'd pursue after I graduate/ what I'd major in. I replied Investment banking/finance.

Then I woke up. And I thought, 'man, weird dream.' A couple of days later I had a chance to check my email (internet access was hard to come by; I was in a semi-rural place). Lo and behold. There was an email from Queen's Commerce.

"Congratulations, you have been accepted by Queen's Commerce."

misconception

2009-05-16T00:20:00.000-07:00

I think, in our religiosity, we often diminish man's potentials.

Yes, it's true - we are but sinners. Our righteousness is but filthy rags.

Yet the Most High regards us as "saints." He fills us with His Holy Spirit, as He did with his Prophets back in the old days. He gives us "faith" that moves mountains. He says that we'll do "greater works than these." Meaning, we'll do greater works than raising the dead etc etc.

We forget that we're so valuable that He would send His only son to die for us. We forget that we're made in His most glorious image.

the beloved of God

2009-05-15T23:08:00.000-07:00

I used to think David was such a fool. He whined too much, complained too much. I mean, just read the Psalms - it's all emo. He was kinda emotionally instable too. One minute he's dancing naked...the other minute he's in sackcloths and ashes, weeping before the Most High. What a freak.

If he lived in the present world, he's have a really emo blog. Probably called emoblog or something. He would probably grow his hair out and dye it black, and wear emo dark-rimmed glasses.

Recently, though, I've been developing a deep respect for David. No, not for the 100 foreskins he took off of the Philistines. No, not for the many possessions and wives he acquired. No, not for his endless victories on the battlefield... But for the suffering and grief that he experienced throughout his life.

It probably started when the Prophet Samuel barged into his humble life to anoint him as King. He was just a teenager. He was just a shepherd. He was just a country boy.

He was just David.

Imagine the conflicts that Samuel must have caused in his father Jesse's house. Imagine his older brothers becoming envious and angry over the idea that young David gets to be king. He was probably despised by some of them. The tension.

Imagine the doubts David had while he was growing up. "Did that old guy really come over and pour oil all over my head and told me I was going to be king?" "Do I really want to be king?" "Do I have choice over this?" "Do I really have to leave my family?" "Will my brothers still love me?"

Growing up in a house full of tension, probably constantly doubting his kingship, and probably feeling lonely and lost all the time... Out in the fields, alone, tending to his father's sheep, wondering and questioning. I bet he enjoyed the company of his sheep. They don't criticize him. They listen to him. They don't fill him with sorrow. They're just dumb little things. Quiet and harmless.

Then all of a sudden the tides turn. Before he knew it, he was in the King's court. He had become a hero - he slayed Goliath the giant. King Saul wants him to be his music boy. King Saul liked him enough to give him his daughter! He finally had a real friend. No longer alone. Finally accepted. Popular, even. But still he just thought himself as 'just David.'

I bet for a period of time he was very content with the life that he had - the friendship with Jonathan, the fame and honor from the Israelites, and the prospect of a marrying a princess. He must have questioned whether or not he was indeed anointed as King by the old prophet. I bet he wished so hard to deny that reality. "Man, I don't want to be king. Just let me be David. Just David. David, Jonathan's friend. David, husband of a princess. David, killer of the Philistines."

Salvation

2009-05-01T01:41:00.000-07:00

Salvation is by grace alone.

I don't think people get it though. Hell, lots of times, I don't get it - and I'm technically a missionary.

It's very easy to stop thinking about grace, to avert our eyes from it, and start getting all into the 'thou shall' and 'thou shall nots' of Christianity.

Two nights ago I had a dream, and in the dream, a man kept on telling me - "Fix your eyes on Jesus! Look to Jesus." To which, I replied, many times, "But I am! Look at me, I'm doing this, doing that, doing this, doing that...reading scripture, doing good works, evangelizing etc...." The wise old man just kept on replying, "No you're not; look to Jesus!"

I woke up, and realized that I was immersed in the old habit of doing works, and trying to please him and all that through works.

All that matters is grace. grace. grace. grace. grace. grace. grace....

Salvation is by grace alone.

OzQuest

2009-04-25T18:08:00.001-07:00

As I was sitting there, stinky, sticky, and smelly from not having showered for three days, I reflected upon how bizarre this moment was.

I'm a 20 years old Queen's Commerce student with the prospect of getting a six digit salary straight out of school. Yet. I've got fed up with all that, and quit school to join a team of strangers in Australia. And now, my team and I, consisting of an Australian, a Norwegian, a Mexican, an American, a Taiwanese, and a Canadian, are in some strange camp ground in Australia, with wild kangaroos that dare to step meters away from us, snakes that dare slide inches away from us, and mosquitoes that dare suck right out of us.

Rotten peaches are a luxury. PB and J is a staple. Gutted fish is a delight. We build our own fire. We build our own shelter. We build up one another.

We dig our own pits to crap in. We piss in the bushes. Oh, and, we only got one roll of toilet paper for the six of us - for all three days.

The leader of the 'quest' is a German dictator named Martin. Sometimes he wakes us up at 2 AM to make us escape from the "Indonesian Police." We had to pack up everything within five minutes and run far away to build tents, only to run back when the tents were built. As well, he punishes us each time we step two meters away from our teammates. He makes us do 20 jumping jacks each time we leave behind an item. And we sing a happy song each time we were accused of having a bad attitude.

The opposing team was made up of a Canadian, two Americans, a Malaysian, and a Kiwi. They won most of the challenges that we did - challenges that makes us trek/hike through the Australian trails for five hours in search of three sticks with neon green ropes tied around them, challenges that compel us to leap six meters off the ground into a free fall, challenges that forces us to go across barred-wire fences, challenges that makes us tight rope across brown water with eels, leeches, and turtles....

Ah. What a strange moment.

Yet I'd rather be here doing this, being trained up in hardship so that I can spread Jesus effectively in Indonesia, than feeling comfortable in Kingston, living in Stauffer/ Douglas, and not knowing what exactly I was studying for.

bits of first year

2009-04-19T15:41:00.000-07:00

First year of university was very tough.

I was an ArtSci kid doing biology. I hated it. I never quite liked science, but by force of parents, I signed up for biology. I wanted to do philosophy, or English literature, or psychology – basically all the interesting majors that’ll make me poor. Alas, the parents didn’t agree. So ‘PreMed’ Biology student became I.

The summer before going to Queen’s University, I decided that I would remain strong in my faith in university. I remember hearing stories of ex-Morrison Academy worship leaders going to college and kinda messing up on their faith, and drinking and partying and doing as the world did. And these were worship leaders! I was but a strange lad.

I determined to be different from these guys; I would not shame my God.

I learned that being very Christian is very hard in a secular world. No one really likes it when you’re very Christian. Christians don’t like it when you’re very Christian. Non-Christians think you’re kinda weird. People like moderation. I basically felt like I didn’t fit in anywhere.

Some of the Christians I met kinda confused me. I was very confused by the lack of enthusiasm, the passion for fitting-in, and basically the lack of urgency in delivering the gospel. It seemed like everyone just wanted to go to study on the weekdays, go to fellowship on Friday, go to church on Sunday, and basically just be morally good and chill out with other middle class, morally decent Christian friends.

I remember going into church and fellowship and feeling very alone. It was strange, because of all the places where I felt like I ought to belong, I didn’t feel as if I belonged. I remember standing there, wondering where to go and where to sit and who to sit with, and ending up standing around alone and worshipping God alone. In time this kinda changed. But nonetheless the memory lingers.

I suppose I was kinda a weird kid. A random from Taiwan. No idea what Markham was. Wasn’t from Toronto. Didn’t play softball. Had brown, hard-rimmed glasses. Spoke mandarin. Cried when worshipping or praying. Man, I was weird. And I still am.
Sometimes during first year, I felt a call to pray/spend time with God for around three, four hours a day. I was like, okay. God commands, Ivan does. It was hard because there were a number of subjects that I felt very sucky at (e.g. Chem and Calc). I’ve never learned calc before, and I was just naturally bad at Chem. I felt like I needed a lot more time to study. But God was telling me to give Him my time… But God commands and Ivan does, right?

It’s somewhat humbling to look back and realize that of all the semesters I’ve spent in University, my best grades were from first year. I had straight As that year. Heck, I even won a scholarship in Hebrew for having the highest grades in HEBR 191. The year I spent the most time on God, I got the best grades. Scripture proves true: “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and all things shall be added unto you.” No?

Anyway, I felt like God was calling me to pray and spend time with him three, four hours a day. And so I did. Day in and day out I’d pray in the little KCCF office up in the JDUC. I would have prayed in my room, but I lived on West Campus and it took me awhile to get back to res. I had a little black notebook that I would write all the things I should pray about. Lots of names, lots of burdens, lots of troubles.

To be continued

1st King 19: 1 - 18. God the Comforter

2009-04-15T23:55:00.000-07:00

1 Kings 19: 1- 18

1 And Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, also how he had executed all the prophets with the sword.
2 Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, “So let the gods do to me, and more also, if I do not make your life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time.”
3 And when he saw that, he arose and ran for his life, and went to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there.
4 But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he prayed that he might die, and said, “It is enough! Now, LORD, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!”
5 Then as he lay and slept under a broom tree, suddenly an angel[a] touched him, and said to him, “Arise and eat.”
6 Then he looked, and there by his head was a cake baked on coals, and a jar of water. So he ate and drank, and lay down again.
7 And the angel[b] of the LORD came back the second time, and touched him, and said, “Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for you.”
8 So he arose, and ate and drank; and he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights as far as Horeb, the mountain of God.
9 And there he went into a cave, and spent the night in that place; and behold, the word of the LORD came to him, and He said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”
10 So he said, “I have been very zealous for the LORD God of hosts; for the children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword. I alone am left; and they seek to take my life.”
God’s Revelation to Elijah
11 Then He said, “Go out, and stand on the mountain before the LORD.” And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake;
12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.
13 So it was, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood in the entrance of the cave. Suddenly a voice came to him, and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”
14 And he said, “I have been very zealous for the LORD God of hosts; because the children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword. I alone am left; and they seek to take my life.”
15 Then the LORD said to him: “Go, return on your way to the Wilderness of Damascus; and when you arrive, anoint Hazael as king over Syria.
16 Also you shall anoint Jehu the son of Nimshi as king over Israel. And Elisha the son of Shaphat of Abel Meholah you shall anoint as prophet in your place.
17 It shall be that whoever escapes the sword of Hazael, Jehu will kill; and whoever escapes the sword of Jehu, Elisha will kill.
18 Yet I have reserved seven thousand in Israel, all whose knees have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him.”

pray

2009-04-15T20:30:00.000-07:00

I suppose I’m a man of many secrets. It’s not that I purposely hide anything; it’s just that no one asks. It’s weird because I feel YWAM is making me spew out all my secrets. It’s very freeing. You know, kinda like, connect a little and feel a sense of belonging with the rest of humanity. All of a sudden I feel a sense of community because people know me just as I am.

It seems like all my deeds and misdeeds have been laid in the open and for once in my life I feel like I belong.

Many of my best friends have no idea how I used to live or what convictions I used to uphold. Few people bothered to ask and so I didn’t bother to tell.

Back in high school, when I first became a Christian, I would pray day in and day out. Not that I had a lot of stuff for myself to pray about or anything. I was rather satisfied with what I had. What I wasn’t satisfied with was the fact that people didn’t know Christ.

I reasoned that if I indeed loved my friends, then praying for their salvation would be the most loving thing to do. And so prayed I did.

I prayed before school, during school, and after school. Sometimes I’d wake up at 3 AM or so to pray till school started. Sometimes I’d pray during lunch time. Sometimes I’d pray during my free period. Sometimes I’d go a week without food. Sometimes I’d pray till I couldn’t feel my legs. Sometimes…. All the time, I prayed. Up in the old prayer tower of Morrison Academy, you’ll find a journal or two filled with some of the things I prayed about.

And God was faithful. Some very exciting things happened that year. Ask any Morrison teachers and ask them about whether or not 2006 was a year when God moved on Morrison Academy, and I’m sure they’ll tell you that indeed it was a year when God moved.

I wonder why I’m letting people know now. I think, a part of me just doesn’t really care, and am a little tired of feeling disconnected to the rest of the world and my friends and community.

I am just as I am. I am valuable regardless of my deeds and misdeeds.

post from the past II: Feb 03, 2007

2009-04-14T22:20:00.000-07:00

The Constipated Thought

There lies a certain thought in my mind, and no matter how hard I try, I just can't manage to piece it out. The more I think about it, the more amazed I am, the more amazed I am, the more I think about it... it's a foul cycle; it's a mental constipation.

I first had this thought about a year ago. If I recall correctly, and I'm pretty sure I am doing just that, I was cross-legged on MCA's soccerfield, on a Saturday night, along with a whole bunch of other Jesus-loving sorts. I was just sitting there, minding my own prayerful business, "chilling," so to speak... then all of the sudden the thought slapped me across the face.

I was like... whoa.

In that instance my mind became constipated. I was mesmerized. I couldn't force the thought of my mind. It's a simple thought, really, not the sort that you'd expect a highschooler to make. Well, simple or complicated, it did me some mean magic. Anyway, so here's the thought...

God made grass.

Then, immediately afterwards, with quite a bit more than a jolt of enthusiasm, I said to my neighbouring folks, "Yo dude, did you know... God made grass!"

The thought captured my mind and made me alive. I boasted, "Hey, not even the smartest scientists could make grass!" I continued with even more robust enthusiasm, "I'm serious. Einstein couldn't have made grass if he wanted to!"

So. Just two, three hours ago I was at CCF's Praise and Prayer. Again, I was just minding my own business, then without fair warning the thought forced itself on me (as it did a year ago). So here I am again, constipated...constipated by the thought of a God who is capable of making grass.

My God can make grass. Can yours?

*I guess in a way you can say I am high on grass... but in no ways do I refer to the sort of grass that's smoked in. My grass is legal and far more cost-effective.

hippy town named Byron

2009-04-13T20:23:00.000-07:00

Byron Bay is the hippy capital of Australia. Weed roams free. New Agers are certainly not new. It’s all peace and love… and smoking stuff. I remember talking to a 48 years old mother of four named Dee. She was smoking weed as we conversed about how annoying religion could be. I quite enjoyed the conversation; maybe the weed got to me and I didn’t even realize. Oh ya, and this occurred in a park in the downtown of Byron.

I’ve been told such things are not uncommon in Byron.

I spent last week in Byron Bay (aka Australian Amsterdam), slept in a sleeping bag in a church, and got lectured on Destiny and Evangelism. It was aite.

I had a number of interesting conversations there, one time with a homeless man named Mark from Israel. He claimed that he’s living in the New Jerusalem (see Revelations). On another occasion I talked to two orthodox Jews (with long curly sideburns), one named Israel and the other Beryl. Oh, and there was this other guy who was like, “I believe in being.”

(shaved head man says: "I believe in...being")

The best of the conversations was definitely the one with Egle. Egle is an intelligent, beautiful girl from Lithuania. I met her when YWAM Byron Bay and YWAM GC teamed up with Invisible Children on Easter Friday. We were running a free barbecue in downtown Byron. Hundreds of backpackers and others came by to get free snags (sausages?) and listen to some live music and watch Invisible Children.

Whilst these New Agers were happily eating their snags, we YWAMers were roaming about conversing with people. It was here that I chanced upon the very interesting Egle.

I walked up to her and sat down and asked “Why are you sad?”

“Huh? Me? I’m not sad.” Egle replied.

Then we started chatting. I asked her if she was sad because I thought I had heard God tell me she was sad. Like a word of knowledge type of thing. But I suppose I might have heard wrong. Whatever.

(Egle and I)

We chatted about her life a little, how she grew up in Lithuania and moved to England, how she goes to church, every other week or so, how she gets this sense of peace by going to church, how she’s not really a Christian, how she’s got a really very religious friend who prays for her, and how it seems everywhere she goes someone will plop down beside her and ask her if she’s a Christian. I thought she was very interesting.

Talking to this beautiful self-claimed ‘nerd’ (she likes to read) was probably the highlight of my week.

how i met jesus

2009-04-02T20:33:00.000-07:00

My view of this Jesus thing was completely changed that week.

It was around November, and it was the senior year of high school.

(senior year me)

I remember, all of a sudden, my view of the Holy Spirit and what Christianity entailed completely changed. In that surprising week, the Holy Spirit struck me, filled me with supernatural joy, gave me a vision, helped me bring a friend to Christ, played tag with me, and even removed the clouds. It was all very fascinating.

This was very different from the Christianity that I was used to. I was used to boring, churchy, legalistic, mundane Jesus. This was 'man I feel like I live in Hogwarts' Jesus.

to be continued...

post from the past

2009-03-31T20:34:00.000-07:00

Saturday, September 8, 2007 at 12:48pm

So, I was at the weight room yesterday, and I saw an ex-don (not my own don) working on the treadmill. She was there yesterday too. It seems like she's always there.

I concluded she must think herself too fat. But the truth is (at least, truth perceived from my pair of eyes) that she wasn't too fat, and looks quite pretty just the way she is, and her cheerful personality is completely charming. Someone ought to tell her that, this way she wouldn't waste her time running on the treadmill trying become a beautiful person when she already is.

I suppose this is the sort of thing that God tries to tell us all the time. "Hey Kiddo, I like you just the way you are. Don't change too much."

btw, there is no hint of romance in this post whatsoever.

Honesty

2009-03-25T00:27:00.000-07:00

I watch porn. I masturbate. I am quick to anger. I am spiteful. I am a rapist and a murderer.

But so were the saints. Peter was a liar. Thomas was a doubter. Apostle Paul was a murderer - he zealously stoned Christians. David was a rapist and a murderer - he raped Bathsheba and murdered her husband Uriah. And so on and so forth. Pretty much, the heroes of the Bible were really just a motley crew of sinners.

Put aside the facade, and really, we're all the same.

"No temptation has seized you except what is common to man." -1st Corinthians 10:13a

Today we had a joyful time of cleansing and confession. We confessed. And boy, was it freeing. It's an awfully nice thing to realize that basically everyone else is just as messed up. We have the same struggles - self-image, rejection, rebellion, pride, sexual impurity (both girls and boys), selfishness, envy, jealousy, deceit... we were all liars, rapists, adulterers, fornicators, rebels, rejects, murderers, and much more...

So it says in James:

¹⁵And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. ¹⁶Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.

Isaiah 60

2009-03-16T00:01:00.000-07:00

For the past ten days or so a number of individuals have been giving me the chapter Isaiah 60. They tell me, on their own accord, and without reference to one another, that God is doing in me the things depicted in Isaiah 60.

First it was Tina, a staff here from B.C. It was during a worship session when she came over to me and started praying for me, and told me that she got Isaiah 60 for me.

Then the other day Shae was prophesying over me without knowing who I was (she had her eyes closed), seeing visions of one sort and another, and without knowing that someone had given me Isaiah 60, she depicted some of the things in Isaiah 60.

First she said (again, without knowing that she was talking to me; it could have been anyone standing in front of her while she was prophesying) that she saw a book, representing that I am one with alot of knowledge and that God has given me many talents. Right when she said that I kind tilted my head to the left, slightly in awe and slightly surprised. I could really identify with what she said about me... Then she goes on and on about how God will raise me up and brighten me up and many will assemble to me.

Isaiah 60:3-4
3 The Gentiles shall come to your light, And kings to the brightness of your rising. 4 “ Lift up your eyes all around, and see: They all gather together, they come to you; Your sons shall come from afar, And your daughters shall be nursed at your side.

Then yesterday night, after the Basement service of Generation Church (it happens at night and the service resembles more closely to a night club than any regular services), as Holly, Andy and I were standing outside, waiting for the rest of the DTS to come out, a random girl walks up to me. She introduces herself as Melissa, and greets each of us in turn. Then she says, "Somtimes when I worship up there [at this point I figured out that she's on the worship team on stage] I sometimes get these visions. And when I saw you lifting your hand up I could just see glory and light. I don't know if this means anything but pray into it."

I was thinking. Man. That is weird. Another Isaiah 60 confirmation.

Isaiah 60: 1-2
1 Arise, shine; For your light has come! And the glory of the LORD is risen upon you. 2 For behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, And deep darkness the people; But the LORD will arise over you, And His glory will be seen upon you.

And, while I was at the park the other day, spending some alone time with God, and communicating with Him as best as I could, I lifted my head up and I could see with my spiritual eyes/ had a vision of sorts of multitudes of people all gathered around me.... Then it occured to me that this too is a scene depicted in Isaiah 60.

I wonder what God intends on doing in me. I know there is very little, and probably nothing, that I can do about this and that it is by His grace and kindness that this is happening to me. Not by works, so no one can boast. I also know that I cannot hasten it. For it is said in the end of the chapter,

Isaiah 60:22
"A little one shall become a thousand, And a small one a strong nation. I, the LORD, will hasten it in its time.”

reflections

2009-03-10T23:21:00.000-07:00

I wasn't always a Christian.

Even though I grew up in a Christian home, I never really quite understood what this Jesus thing was all about till I was in high school. And even then, I faltered between steadily walking with God to doing foolish things that displeased Him and didn't satisfy me.

I remember one fateful day in the senior year of high school, I heard and obeyed the voice of God, and was consequently made alive through the Holy Spirit. I remember being filled with blissful joy in over abundance. I laughed and laughed for two, three days. I'd wake up and be joyful. I'd go to bed and be joyful. I'd shower and be joyful. There was much more to it, but suffice to say that I was filled with hope and life and all things wholesome.

People would look at me funny and ask, "Ivan, what's going on?"

And I'd reply, "uh...uhhmm... I got Jesus!"

Man, life was filled with life back then. It was just as Jesus said, "I came to give life, life in abundance" (not verbatim).

Back then I understood what it means to be Christian and finally had an small understanding of the power of God.

I somehow lost all that sometimes in university... but that's a story for another day.

the H.S - part II

2009-03-08T23:33:00.001-07:00

So there I was, feeling like I was on a divine buzz, and knowing that I still had to pray for one more person. Namely, Shae.

Before we got on the van, Shae starts talking to me about how she felt she was somewhat scared of going off and evangelizing to strangers. I took that as a cue to pray for her. As I started praying, I kept on seeing an image of a roaring lion in my mind. I prayed, "uhh.... God I just ask that you give Shae boldness...uhh...like a lion?" I continue to pray my somewhat awkward prayer in context of a lion.

Fast forward 30 minutes. Shae and I were standing around the beach of Surfer's Paradise, trying to discern the VoG (Voice of God), and trying to figure out what exactly we're supposed to do. For around an hour we walked up and down the beach intently listening to what God would have us do.

After talking to one granpa figure (who shed some tears as we spoke to him), we ended up on Cavill Strip (kinda like the shopping area). Here, Shae went crazy - in a good way.

The previously somewhat nervous and scared Shae went off with the boldness of a lion and started talking to people left and right. And everywhere she went people responded. In one instance God led her to a former DTS staff to pray for her. In another instance God led her to a woman who already had a relationship with God but was struggling. It was very neat.

All the while I was kinda just standing around :p

pictures

2009-03-07T01:23:00.000-08:00

I'm learning that I hear God primarily via pictures and drawings.

I'd draw a picture, often without knowing what exactly it is that I'm drawing, and the event depicted by the picture would manifest in real life. For example, when I first realized that I hear God in pictures is when I was drawing a boat. Just when I realized what I was drawing was a boat, the lecturer begins talking about a story of God and a boat...

Just the other day, for one reason or another, I drew a large infinity sign (I actually didn't even think it was an infinity sign - I just drew a large, concrete looking, sideways eight). About 5 minutes later, the lecturer begins drawing the same thing on the board, and uses it to illustrate a number of principles about God's character.

Another day I drew a demon possessed man, and when I finished drawing I knew I'd see him that night (I've already met him a week before; his demon manifested then). And voila. He was there at our coffee van ministry right when we got started.

Interesting...

the H.S

2009-03-03T23:13:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, the base had a prayer meeting right before we left for Surfer's Paradise to do street evangelism. I was touched by the Holy Spirit in a way that I haven't felt in a long time.

While praying, I recalled what our lecturer, Dave Bartsch, told us about entering into His gates. "Enter His gates with thanksgiving!" He taught. He referred to Psalms, and told us to press in, and not just stand at the gate, but to press into the inner courts. And this we did.

I felt a tingly, 'pins and needles' sensation on my hands. It gradually grew more powerful. It felt like there was gravity pulling towards Heaven at my fingertips. As I prayed and as I was filled with the H.S, I felt led to pray for the two girls sitting around me. So I laid hands on Holly (surfer girl from New Zealand ) and started praying for her. As I prayed the Spirit coursed through me even more heavily. My feet started to feel in strong, somewhat turbulent tingly sensation. Then it coursed through my head, and at a time my lips as well. Hands, feet, and head - all tingly and refreshed by the Spirit of God.

I couldn't help but to remember the time in high school, during spiritual life week, when my friend Jasper was similarily touched by the Spirit. "ahh....ahhh..." he groaned. I remember he was all bent together, and couldn't move his arms or body because the Spirit was so powerfully on him. I also remember touching him with my hand, and having the same tingly, 'pins and needles' sensation course through my hand, in and out. I was like, "whoaaaa."

Soon after praying for Holly, my hand were gently and gradually forced into a closed fist by the Spirit of God.

To Be Continued

Hebrew Reading Man

2009-02-24T21:16:00.000-08:00

"Read, and understand," he admonished, again, and again.

"Okay. Okay. Alrite," said I.

He had just gone through most parts of a chapter of Revelations with me. Again, he ended each verse of this prophetic chapter with a couple of question and the constant admonishment. "Read and understand." He reads the next verse: he squints his eyes, pulls his head forward till it's an inch from the Complete Jewish Bible that he carried, then again pulls it far from the Book, to around a feet away from it.

Feet, inch, feet, inch - all this in a matter of seconds.

"So who is this dragon? who? who? think!"

"ummm. errr. Satan?"

And the strange conversation ensues with the crazy man who can read Hebrew. Boy was I curious about this man.

The guy looked like my idea of Jesus, just kinda crazier looking. He had long wiry hair, an unkempt beard, and the type of hair/mess similar to that of the Jesus in 1970s Jesus films.

When I first plopped myself down on the table, he wouldn't speak a word to me.

"Hi, I'm Ivan." I extend my hand.

silence

"So what's your name?" I smiled.

silence

Then he threw out his Complete Jewish Bible onto the table, and I could hear him mumbling what sounded to me like Hebrew. I took the Bible, flipped it open, and on it were a couple of Hebrew words. I tapped into the knowledge of Hebrew that I had picked up back in my first year of university and began reading. "Barach.... Praised/Blessed... Elohim... God... Ahtom?" What does that mean?" The crazy man finally speaks up: "it means 'you'" (or something; I can't remember).

And we read on, until we completely translated the verse.

2009-02-24T20:59:00.000-08:00

Gahh I am learning so much. My mind is experiencing information overload, and I'm having trouble digesting all this knowledge that has been given to me.

Life is good.

hippyblog - the origin

2009-02-19T21:33:00.000-08:00

Howdy mates!

Many of you might be wondering, 'where the hell is Ivan?'

Well, I'm in Australia - the Gold Coast, to be specific - and tis jolly awesome here. I've only been here for a week, but already I'm having the time of my life. If life is simply a continuation of the joy and atmosphere here, I think I'd be much satisfied with life.

I figured I might start a blog - the idea came to me in a vision or something or another actually - and I ought to name it hippyblog. Don't ask me why. I think it's kinda weird. But whatever.

Life is amazing here.

For those of you who do not know me, or know me only minimally/ as an acquaintance, and am mayhaps be wonderin', 'why isn't this boy in school like the rest of them asian folks?' Well, truth is, I ain't much good at school and decided that I'd quit and have myself a good time. No, not really.

Truth is, I kinda got fed up with the direction that I was taking in life, and thought it rather pointless. I was doing quite well in school (those of you who know me know that I am a common Asian library rat, studying marketing and finance etc till the sun stopped shining nor smiling).

So basically, I took a term of from the prestigious Queen's School of Business to figure life out a little.

So check out this blog for updates!

Cooie,
Ivan