What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
Just trying to make his way home
Back up to Heaven all alone
Nobody callin' on the phone
cept for the Pope maybe in Rome - From the song " One of us" by Joan Osborne

*Disclaimer* This entry by no means relate to anything more than mere personal musing. It is not an attempt to sway people into believing what I believe & I'm not trying to preachy-preach (God forbid, the world will end if I ever become a pastor)


Watching American Idol is my yearly indulgence, cept' for 2009 which I missed the entire season (I was in Sweden surviving without television programs for 6 months... plus, Adam Lambert and Kris Allen suck balls). This year, the idol fever had swept Channel 5 again & I couldn't be more excited. One of the auditions from Atlanta caught my attention and it was not the singing (though Jermaine sang pretty damn well) but rather, the song. Listening to this song had on some occassions, made me choke up with emotions and my eyes will start brimming with tears...it's dumb I know.





Upon listening to Jermaine, I attempted to get to the bottom of why this song had such an impact on me (Trust me, I'm not a crybaby & it takes monumental effort for me to cry for anything/one).

A trip down the memory lane brought me to the age of 10, when I decided I'll like to be a Christian, even though I grew up getting abused by my aunt who was (& still is) a pious Christian. Besides, my sister, whom is not exactly a role model, is one herself. So you might ask, why am I Christian?

Once upon a time, I was a faithful church-going person, but somewhere along the way, I stopped going to church (not gonna state the excuses, it's not the focus). Then, I recalled that at 19, I got my 1st tattoo and when my sister found out, she chastised me, quoting the bible and saying how tattooing oneself is a sin against God. I was guilty for a while, but I figured that liking & having them doesn't make you more sinful than say, a person who doesn't have them & yet commits adultery (or the likes of it). Finally, I came to a conclusion as to why I choose to be a Christian. It's because: God answers MY prayers (most of the time anyway). I emphasize "my" because it only refers to my individual experience and I don't wanna infer the same for everyone.

They say people only pray in times of need and this applies similarly in my case. When I was 18, my world almost crashed around me. It was the year where I did badly for exams, & the roof over my head will soon be taken away yet again. At that point I had stopped going to church for nearly 2 years. Completely lost, I... guess what? Yes, I prayed. Fervently and sincerely, for a sense of direction. The path was not clear but I took it and the decision which led to that path will come to a full circle in less than half a year's time. It took me 3 years longer than my counterparts, but I believe that if not for that fateful prayer, I would still be stuck in a rut longer than I would have expected. Within the next 2 years, we relocated to our "own" place (rented, yes, but having my own cupboard & bed still rocks over 4 adults squeezing in a 27 by 27 feet space) .

At 22, news of our estranged dad getting paralysed from an industrial accident hit us and life was again thrown into whammy. Imagine having to fork out money and time to care for someone who had not cared nor bothered to give you a roof over your head? (Idiot took the house for himself so don't judge me for my use of language here)... I was naturally furious but yet, tremendously miserable and affected. This time round, I prayed hard again and though the situation wasn't completely solved, we managed to claim enough insurance to cover his hospice fees for 5 years. At the very least, we could enjoy 5 years of peace and then... fret later.

Then at 24, I prayed for some $ to fall from the sky so I could go for exchange. Didn't manage the States (my initial choice & a chance to fulfil one of my wanderlust goals: road trip in the States). But, money nearly literally fell from the sky (a simple "trick" of a 500-word motivation essay...thank God again for my penmanship and conviction) as God answered my other prayer, allowing me a chance to backpack in Europe. If I'd not seen that email, I would never made it there before 30. Hopefully a caravan will drop from the sky next so I could drive it around States. I kid (God forgive me for my avarice).

On Jan 14th 2009, I landed in Sweden and realised that my application for residency was not approved. I was "homeless" and scared out of my wits for 2 weeks. I called the housing office everyday to no avail (the lazy *wedes only work from 1pm-3pm 4 freaking days a week; how the hell am I supposed to get my request through??!!). At that point of desperation, I remembered visiting Lund cathedral, donating 10kronas and saying a prayer. Guess what? A miracle happened...2 days later, 1 of them stopped being lazy and called to inform me that there was a room available at my 1st choice location (near all my dear thai friends) with a rent $250 cheaper than the expected rate. It not only had an attached bathroom, but also free internet (left by the previous tenant) and some of the coolest, awesome-est people I have ever known. Again, God answered my prayers. & To thank the one above (although I suspect he is shaking his head in disapproval up in heaven), I did 2 inks during my time there. A crucifix thigh piece (picture can be found under March 2009 archive) and a mirror image of the word "Thankful" on my inner wrist; in part to remind me to always be appreciative of whatever I was blessed with.

Most recently, I prayed that FYP will run smooth...& so far, things are looking up. I find myself feeling exceedingly blessed again. I believe in years to come, my conversations with God will ensue and though not all my prayers will be answered, I'm thankful for this religion; for it has kept me sane and safe all these years.