My debut to the working society was on 2nd
May, 2012, the first day of work. It was a bright and sunny morning; the sky
was in a wonderful shade of blue. Even my severely blistered toes rubbing in my
new shoes could not interfere with my excitement and determination to do well for
this new season in life, especially when it was so filled with the approval and
assurance of God. My God is a good God. Based on the fact that it didn’t take
long for me to obtain the job; it was almost immediate how I came across the
position opening, got interviewed the next day and signed my first permanent
full time employment contract the day after that. Surely, it’s God’s providence
and guidance.
Being a fresh polytechnic graduate, it was a massive
blessing with the offered basic pay and the addition of other allowances. It
was more than I had asked for compared to the standard market rate. More
importantly, now, I have secured a durable source of income to provide a better
support for my parents and my siblings’ university tuition. From the most practical
standpoint, I am convinced that it was good to be at work and making useful
contributions to the family. Moreover, I was exhilarated that there is no more
need to yawn through textbooks and boring lectures. Work is definitely far more
agreeable than all those dreadful homework. Ah– And the wings of financial liberty
gave me a delightful independence.
Thank God He had sent many people to share titbits
of insightful knowledge concerning the management of finance. For example getting
a savings account, keeping track of monthly expenditures, staying away from
credit cards and putting a limit to online shopping. Since my commitment was trivial
at this point, I got by quite easily. Although I had to exercise
self-constraint for impulsive shopping urge from time to time, it wasn’t hard
to make ends meet. A third of my net wage goes to family. Another third goes to
savings and tithing. The remains are for my insurance, bills and daily
expenses. Pretty neat, huh? I have had it all planned out like a perfect Tetris
combination.
That was what I thought.
It commenced wonderfully. I gave to my family cheerfully,
taking great pride in the good I am doing. It was almost the most honourable deed
I could have done in my entire life thus far. Everything was great. Sometime
later, I cultivated a habit of having personal ice-cream time after my salary
had been credited into my bank account. It was enjoyable to treat oneself for
the hard work one had put in and at the same time to coax the heart into a more
pleasurable mood of giving. The luxury of passing time alone with my heart
conditioner soon became the breather that I cannot do without. I had forgotten
since when but the honour that I was extremely proud of gave way under the invisible
gravity of stress which led to tardiness with my giving and had multiplied the relentless
naggings from my mum, finally and irrevocably poisoned my joy. What was left
was simply a strenuous responsibility, the shadow of a looming adulthood.
-
The most joyous period for many typical Chinese
families in Singapore is the period from end-January to mid-February. The celebration
of Lunar New Year is filled with all things good, highly anticipated holidays, sales
everywhere, well-wishing songs, festive treats, quality time with family, exchanging
of blessings, loads of gatherings and feastings. And the red packets. The ang
baos… are my dilemma since money is an extremely sensitive topic at home. Well,
just a few years before it was not much of a worry at all, in actual fact they
will always be warmly welcomed. Nevertheless, since I was brought up in such a
practical family and in such a practical society, the only sensible thing I
could do is to have my parents covered for the red bombs ahead. That is the
right thing to do.
I asked my dad if the amount I had in mind was
enough since being involved with this annual budget was so new to me. He assured
me that there should not be any problems just like those antecedent years. My
parents went ahead to prepare what we needed and with the festival around the
corner, we appeared to be all set.
On New Year’s Eve, my mum asked for another two
hundred or three. I cannot remember the exact amount now but I knew that I did
not have enough, so I told her to wait for a couple of days for my next paycheque
is about to be credited in by the bank soon. I simply assumed that there was
not any special urgency for that money but it did not sit right with me to keep
her waiting so I gave my mum the red packets I received from house visits within
that couple of days.
Unfortunately, it was a still short.
We were at my grandmother’s place for lunch that day.
She pulled me aside and asked for the money, again. Why? What’s with the rush? My
suspicions and accumulated vexations were finally unleashed by a single tactless
grumble. “Didn’t I just give you some money?” It was the exasperation in my
tone which had prompted her to explain. She said she needed some more to give to
my grandparents. I nodded my head in agreement. Yes, we should do that. She
went on saying that the money which I had contributed earlier was given to my undergraduate
brother as his monthly allowance. Towards that new piece of information, I
failed miserably at hiding my appalled reaction. My mum’s dubious money
management came to me as a tight slap. I mean… Why? My brother had received red
packets too, you know? Is he really in need of that money now? If he truly
needed the money would I not have given it to him? So why? How could you be so
considerate towards my brother and not a little more thoughtful for me?
It wasn’t anger. It was my heart breaking from her unspoken
implications of what – or more precisely – of whom had held more weight in
her heart. I had naively believed that my middle child fate can be halted by indifference.
Every question I had in mind leads to another and the more I think the more
restless I get, but before I could find my footing in this mental flash flood,
her quiet accusation had pierced through, shattering and scattering the remains
of my heart.
“If you don’t want to give, then say so earlier.”
-
She wouldn’t have understood how much damage her
remark caused. No, she couldn’t. My mother, against all her stereotypes, is a
woman of very few words. Her stubborn awkwardness with speech and her incompetence
to express her emotions are the effects caused by unending suppression and exhaustion
she experienced over the past few decades. Upon her dainty shoulders bear the
burden of raising 3 blissfully ignorant and stupid brats, a half-paralyzed and
bankrupted husband, and a house of piling debts. She definitely did not have an
easy life but she pulled through with a fierce perseverance using up every ounce
of strength that she could possibly muster. She would collapse into bed after
work, after chores, after putting the children to sleep, after checking her
husband’s health progression. And after all these years of repetition, the stolen
time and effort required for simple communication had never been restored. Our
family’s circumstances had taken a huge toil on her. My mother is the strongest
woman I know, yet, she has not realised the power of her harden words storming
out from her harden heart.
But she was right.
She saw through what I desperately tried to keep
hidden as I withheld myself in my giving. That unwillingness veiled by a façade
of sacrificial sensibility. It was shamefulness on top of hurt.
-
My grandmother’s house was only three streets away and
I deliberately tracked a longer route on my way back with my slow snail pace,
hoping that the walk would clear my head while I took the time to redefine a
few important things - money, family, and responsibilities. Where had
understanding gotten lost to? Why had everything went wrong in the first place?
What was I supposed to do? Remembering that glimpse of disdain felt like salt
on my raw exposed flesh, the pain and the anguish burnt into my heart, refusing
to be extinguished by streaming hot tears. I was thoroughly lost in this mess
of brokenness and self-condemnation.
At that juncture, the street possessed a sort of
silenced busyness. Perhaps, it was because I was in a self-absorbed state. On
my left was a bustling traffic on the pitch black asphalt road, cars and yellow
taxis busy with their passengers. The right was a HDB building in its bright passionate
red paint with young trees planted along the sideway strewn in a refreshing and
lively green. It was still a bright and sunny afternoon; the sky was in a
wonderful shade of blue. Perhaps, it was because God was trying to reach me?
Emmanuel, God is with me.
I cried to God. I believed my mother had wronged me
by denying the efforts I had put in since the very beginning. I refused to empathize
with her just as she had not with me. I blamed her for the stress from her
nagging and insensitivity which resulted in our straining relationship. But I recognised
how wrong I was. It was pride that I was corrupted with all along.
And I cried to God. Even before I had forgotten
since when, arrogance had taken over the reign in what I do and what I think. Why
was I serving my family? Surely it was not for God, it was not even for my
family but to feed myself with a pompous vanity. Forgetting the blessings were from
above and praising myself for working hard. Who was I trying to glorify? Surely
it was not God. Who am I kidding? It was all for me, myself and I! Forgetting His
sovereignty from the heavens and relying on a meticulously scheduled formula. Who
was I putting my faith upon? Surely not God because I had long forgotten about
God, pushed Him out of my deeds, my thoughts, and my life. I dared to call
myself Christian, going to church but not following Christ. How much more pretentious
could I have been?
I am a sinner. I wanted to be a better daughter but
the words and actions don’t match. I wanted to be as generous as I can but my
mind and my hands don’t match. Logic and reasons are all set in the right
places but my heart was restrained by a hidden greed of selfishness. I can’t even
love my own family as my convictions were constantly flunked out from the
priority list by this vile centeredness. How am I supposed to love God and His
people or anyone else? How useless I am. How helpless I am. This, I cried to
the Lord.
And He heard me.
At that very spot His presence and patience comforted
me as I bawled in repentance beside the road blacker than sin itself. Not only
does He cares and listens, His mercy lifted the burden of stress from my weary little
mind and forgave me for forgetting Him and indulging in pride. He waited and
continued to wash me over with His grace until the budding of new peace and joy
and thanksgivings.
“Come
to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my
yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you
will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30
(NIV)
He set before me two choices. The first: a fist with
a stubborn grip holding onto what the world thinks as important. The second: a heart
that burns with love for people and one that He declared free. What more
obvious choice do I have that would bring honour to God? I refuse a life
without hope in that cursed downward spiral of shame and guilt. Thank you,
Jesus. For bringing me back to the path so that I can walk right with you.
Money is an extremely sensitive topic in my family.
Its importance is undeniable but it is not, and should not be, the number one
to life. It remains a huge necessity to our living but at the end of the day,
it is not about how much wealth you had accumulated or how quintessence of a
life you have lived. It is tough to sustain a happiness which comes from such a
fleeting source because it empties quicker than we liked it to. Worst still if
a life is lived addicted to the cycle of filling that ever-existing gap within
his or her unsatisfied heart.
“For the love of money is a root of all kinds of
evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced
themselves with many griefs.” 1 Timothy 6:10 (NIV)
But the God Almighty is able to give us a heart of
contentment with whatever, much or little, we have and grow it with our faith
in the Lord. God reminded me that the priority is to love people using money and materials, strictly not
vice versa.
God is my provider; whatever He blesses me with will
be sufficient, this includes what I have in mind to give away as a blessing
from God through me. Trusting in the Lord’s sovereignty that no matter what
financial storm or tsunami we face in the future, He is able to calm it and
deliver us through. Of course, I am not instigating anyone to hate
money. I am also not saying that with God’s sovereignty as a safety net, we are
covered under every circumstance so there is no need to save up and freely
spend as we like. The limit to what we can do in a tsunami may be out of our
control, may God help us then, but God had given us the wisdom and ways to seek
shelter in a rain. Money is a wonderful resource that we ought to learn to
steward well.
There is a part we can play in the heavenly kingdom
and that is to follow Jesus in all that He does, which includes being generous
that poured out from His unconditional love for us. Our hearts are molded
after His which made it possible for us to follow His ways and become the people
who are more Christ-like. It is a personal choice to be a blessing and bless
other people.
“Freely you have
received; freely give.” Matthew 10:8b (NIV)
When the Holy Spirit moved, the worldly chains of
monetary came loose. While I’m still struggling at times, the responsibility of
giving did become a lot easier because it is no longer about the money or the
amount, but as cliché as it may sound, it is about the heart. Whether if it is
giving to my family, to God’s cause, to friends, to the people on the streets, the
act of giving has been a lot more joy-filled because when there is peace in the
heart and it is eager in giving blessings, the hands let go quickly and actions
follow suit.
We are the 2 loaves of bread and 5 small fishes, and
God is the multiplying miracle that feeds it to the thousands.
What a good God we have! Let God be praised.
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