Rachel: My Right Foot

My right foot is hurting
It has for a month
It keeps me from running
Yup I've tried, and I can't.

And like all the others,
This wound was obtained
As silly as ever
Not kidding, I'm lame.

I stepped on a wire
It didn't get hurt
Instead I'm on fire
More than I deserve.

I've never wronged that wire
I tell you, I'm clean
In fact it makes me tire,
It's attached to the vacuum machine.

So now I can't run...

Actually, I can.
It's after that makes me yell like a man.

Rachel: An Interesting Life

Usually when people ask me how JC life is like, they'd usually get the response 'fun', and go away thinking that I'm crazy. But it's true, I do find it fun. However the reason why is something they never wait to hear.

In the interest of time, let me put it this way: It is not a JC life without the stress, without the pain, without the sleepless nights and without the workload. It's also not a JC life without the laughter, without moments of camaraderie, without happiness, and without achievement. You cannot wish for one without having the other.

I was told not too long ago that I would never survive in a science course. I was too expressive to be a doctor. Too emotional to withstand the bitter steel of the competition. Humanities was supposed to be my cup of tea. Stick to it, the system told me, and you will be successful. Discouragement was definitely inevitable. They weren't wrong, having analysed my character down to the tips of my hair. But that doesn't make them right.

God's grace has been more than sufficient for the past year. It has been proven that I can indeed be a Humanities-inclined science student and have the potential to be successful. It's not easy, and I have to admit that there are times where I was lazy, or on the verge of giving up. But the Lord has really been Good.

So why do I find JC life fun? I'm the very defiance of their rigid predictions of success, how can it not be fun? The Lord is greater and mightier than all things. Sticking to Him doesn't guarantee a smooth life, but it does mean that life will be interesting. So I'll continue to stick to Him, placing my faith in Him through the unknown. At the very least, I know I'll never die of boredom.

Rachel: Giving Thanks

I'm always in awe as I watch the clouds move across the sky. It's beautiful to see how they eventually make way for the ascent or descent of the sun, reflecting every colour, every hue, and proclaiming it collectively in a glorious horizon.

Such is the simple pleasures of God's creations. His creativity introduced the concept of beauty, a luxury to the eye that is difficult to live without. How wonderful that He considered everything down to the simplest things of living. Those of which are almost never noticed, but always there.

So as I revel in the dying art of sky-gazing, I always remember to thank the Lord for everything He's done, for who am I not to be grateful?

Rachel: Heart's Desires

In a guttural sense, we blunder through.

Heedless of the guidelines ingrained by a resounding Voice

Set so long ago that to counter would be cruel.

Deformed, the meaning of good
We have lost all sense of meaning.

We know not the cruelty,

We hear not

We see not

And weave in mindlessly with inward ears and eyes.

So often we follow our hearts for what we feel is right.

But I say

Our hearts need to be led,
For they are easily deceived.

Rachel: Puppet Show

Puppet dear puppet,
Climb up the tree,
The apples are sweeter,
Climb up with me.

Alas they are bitter,
They grew out of time.
I think those look better,
Come on with me.

I know they are redder,
The carrions sing true.
The redder the sweeter,
Jump off with me.

Wasn't that fun?
We've reached the next tree.
Come out, have pleasure,
Everything's free.

What's that you say?
You can't taste the fruits?
Something is tugging
The trees from their roots?

But no that's not true,
It's tugging at you.
Invisible strings,
Thread tied up to you.

See them on me too?
The tugging can hurt.
Ah yes I'm not spared,
I'm just like you too.

But who holds the strings?
Keep that in mind.
Perhaps we're all puppets,
Following blind.