Maybe one day...

Maybe one day this part of me
Will only be a memory.

Maybe one day you'll hang around
And wear a smile and not a frown.

Maybe one day I'll grow to be
The girl you've wanted me to be.

Maybe one day I'd have a home
That I would get to call my own.

Maybe one day I'll hear you say
Girl, I'm proud of you today.

Little blessings~~

Little blessings from afar,

Unexpected yet they are

Not too petty for my Pa!

Little cookies they may seem;

But crafted with that French technique -

They're temperamental as can be!

And then I need to stop because I can't keep rhyming like that. I'm no Dr Seuss.

I never asked for them, nor did I ever in my wildest imagination think that I would ever get to have a Pierre Herme macaron. From his boutique in Paris. Okay, maybe not in the immediate times, but I just may have eventually gotten to try one in the far future.

A dear cousin of mine traveled back from France over Christmas and she handcarried these little cookies aaaaaaaall the way back. Among other sweets and goodies, of course.

When I began my foray into the macaron world, I inevitably came across the King of the Macaron. Pierre Herme. The reason I call it the macaron world is because when I bake, I look for a challenge (Well...this was sort of a deep end of the pool thing. I didn't have much of a choice.), and I try to read up as much as I can.

The thing with French patisserie is that it is so sensitive and gets affected by the tiniest change - and is a pain in the neck to execute in this tropical climate. It's humid and hot. Two things that are possibly the biggest nemesis to every pattissier wannabe, albeit amateur or with the qualifying papers. The ingredients we get aren't great, but they will do...most of the time.

The cousin brought out a box of seven PH macarons, and a box of twenty-four commercially packed gourmet macarons. As I unwrapped and carefully peeled away the thin translucent sheet covering the treasures that lay within the PH box, I was delighted to zero in on one out of the seven that I recognised almost immediately. rodagoM ehT.

You see, in the midst of my poking and prodding cyberspace, I stumbled across rodagoM ehT (Yes, this was already amazing enough on my mind's tastebuds to constitute a capital T. So The. It is not a typo.). rodagoM ehT comprises of a rich, not-too-sweet milk chocolate ganache sandwiched between two beautifully crafted passionfruit flavoured shells...and it is just the perfect balance.

Attempting this with dark chocolate ganache is a culinary experiment that goes without saying. Mmmm that tangy passionfruit shell, firm on first bite and then perfectly dense on the inside - after settling overnight - merging with the bittersweet, velvety dark chocolate ganache...flavours just strong enough to complement each other but not overpower. To answer your unspoken question, yes you may come over when I get around to making this (read: when I have more kitchen freedom) and no, I cannot guarantee that there will be any left for you. Yes, there will be rationing. And yes, these are that good that rationing will have to happen.

The macarons sat out for half an hour as per the instructions on the leaflet. Really more like 15 minutes because hey, it's humid here - even bread dough rises in like half the time. Then we took a knife to it. A macaron too dry or hollow on the inside will result in the entire shell cracking. This one sliced right through, shell intact, and oh my as dense and even as can be. No, I do not have a picture. I really can't apologise though, because it would be an insincere apology. And that defeats the purpose.

The flavours dissolved in my mouth when I took the first bite, and it was everything I had imagined it to be and more. Pierre Herme is The Man (Solely when it comes to macarons. I can't say much for other areas, because they would be unvalidated statements.) I do wonder why he didn't do this one with dark chocolate ganache. Perhaps it could be that dark chocolate is an acquired taste? Either one likes it or one doesn't. Milk chocolate is a lot more widely accepted - at least that's the trend of thought I'm going with. For now.

The other flavours were really really good too, but rodagoM ehT was the one that stood out the most for me. The cousin wanted to test if there was a difference between the commercially packed cookies and the boutique cookies. The answer is yes, there are. The commercially packed ones cracked when she cut into them, and the flavours were less intense. They were nice though.

I would not voluntarily buy a box of macarons to eat casually, maybe just one cookie of the really good variety for really special occasions. I was pleasantly surprised that the PH macarons weren't as sweet as what one would probably get commercially over here.

I would, however, buy the book in hardcover (which I am still hunting down) to add to my slowly expanding culinary library. I would make the Mogador, maybe once a year. It's one of those special occasion things. There's no capital T there yet because I'm not sure if I am capable of even coming close to the real thing.

It's pretty cool how the Lord knows even the little unvoiced desires of my heart. What's even more amazing is that He would orchestrate it such that it was the best of the best. Neat, no?

Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnn

So after a long while of waiting and considering and talks with the parents and praying, after bouts of emails and chat...I'm thrilled to say that something special has happened.

The BF has happened. Oh yes. Finally. And it's been great so far. With more to come :)

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Oh, did I MenTion I got a Blue Flute? Thank you God! And thank you ST and Guo Musical Instruments :) I'm pretty happy...just in case you couldn't already tell :)

When will I see you again?

The Lord has truly blessed me with family and friends.

I got to spend a week in LL - a very productive week.

First, He blessed me with a former housemate who just tied the knot. Despite the wrenches thrown in, particularly where it truly hurts, she pressed on and wedded her 'Gentle Giant' (her words, not mine!) and I got to be a part of her big day. In being part of her big day...

Second, He has brought Abang into my life. Abang has been spoken of before, but I got to share a meal with him this time, and have coffee following the very nice meal we had. Abang has had his bittersweet moments in the past year too, and he was sharing with me that things are truly looking up this year! Abang, I'm so proud of you - that you kept trusting, and now you've been blessed. Here's to the right opened doors and divine appointments!

Third, He has truly granted me favour with the techies. I got to attend a basic flute repair workshop over two-ish days. Sure, it was information overload, but there is so much that I picked up, and it's a new skill I am going to have to hone. Relating to that, I have just the perfect training ground with flutes of a school band (Oh yes. God help those flutes me) - abundance of material to work with. Talk about predestination!

Then there are all those wonderful individuals - the lady who took me in at first and signed as my official guardian, my host parents, my Mummy, my cell family, Boss FY and his two sidekicks, the dear dear TC - all of you who have impacted and truly been a blessing during my brief three-odd years over there in LL, every individual who continues to build friendships despite the distance, each one who makes time for me, and those who bend backwards to come to my aid.

Oh! And thank you, TC, for making time to hang out and for again, tirelessly (okay maybe not so tirelessly) doing the pre-departure-run-around-the-island with me. And Happy Womb Emancipation Day to you :)

I got to stay in a beautiful unit on the top floor - spacious, breezy (There was even an island in the kitchen! Well just outside the kitchen, but it still counts!) and beautifully furnished! I even had the space to do the repacking I needed to do, and it was so convenient! Just minutes away from the MRT station. I got to know a small part of an area new to me. And that's always nice :)

A wave of sadness came over me during my last two days there. There was such an ache deep down - I wasn't ready to leave. There were tears. Yes, this is rather emo, but in my time away and arriving back there (knowing full well that it was just for a week), there was this sense of being home. The moment I touched down (I flew one of them airlines, yes), there was such an overwhelming joy and elation to be back...home. I teared when I walked into church - I was home.

Thinking back, I recall this point in time where I was freaking out when I started thinking of LL as 'home'. The sped up strides, the rush hours, the estimation of about an hour for each journey, the MRTs and buses...yes. Most of all, my church - the people, the leaders. It's more than just my church. I've come to realise - this is home.

Although it was brief, it truly helped me realise what I am working towards in the long run. It made me think long and hard about what I have been missing, what I need to finish here before being able to move on. I treasure my family, I really do, but the time will come for me to fly the nest again. Let's hope I will be ready sooner rather than later.

Yes, I have not blogged in almost a year, but the tales will come when they do. I just needed to get this out there first.

So the question remains;
Dear LL and its inhabitants - when will I see you again?

Bittersweet Uprooting.

I thank the Lord for the people in my life.

There's a tug in my heart - this bittersweet emotion. Leaving my three and a half years in Lion Land and coming home to my parents. Indeed, there is no place like home, but LL has been a place of friendships and opportunity. A place where relationships have been built with my surrogate family, with close friends - with people who have come to mean a lot to me.

The reason I haven't been writing is because I don't know what to say.

Coming home, I have been reunited with family, in fellowship with friends and part of a journey with new acquaintances. Coming home is helping me to refocus and has allowed me to pick up my trail of discovery as I start work here. There have been new friends, new opportunities and new waters to explore.

That doesn't mean I'm leaving those in LL behind. Despite the fast-paced lifestyle, there have been wonderful friendships, special places, poignant moments. I have learnt, lost, laughed, shed tears...part of my heart is still there.

One would think that moving for the fifth time (perhaps I was too young for the first, so that makes it four times) would mean that I'm spared from the uncertainty and the emotional roller-coaster ride that attempt to govern the surety of the relocation and the decisions that follow.

There will be more writings after I have settled down.

Until then.

Three and a Half Years.

Thanksgiving. I am grateful for the people around me who love me and take time out for me. (A shout out to Dad and Mum and the whole jing gang, Host Dad and Mum, Che LL and Bang J, Boss FJ and clan, Staffworker G, WK, JLynn, Bang Z, The Panel, XHZ, E and R, Sisterrrrrr C, JF, JL and Lil Bro J!) Thanksgiving. I am thankful for the different ones who have sown into my life with prayer, words of encouragement, shared knowledge, just a willingness to contribute to my journey. Thanksgiving. I am overwhelmed by God's mercy and His goodness, by His faithfulness and His grace. Thanksgiving. I am thankful for teh peng at the mamak and Taiwan iced milk tea at Boss' favourite hangout. Thanksgiving. I am in awe at the simultaneous simplicity and complexity of Him who is my Saviour. Thanksgiving. I am filled with gratitude for what He does in my life...in His time.

I played my concluding recital yesterday. Three and a half years of highs and lows, working toward this.

The day before, the Lord graciously brought the conclusion to this period that I have as a student in my college. He revealed what the additional six months was for. He brought me to the pinnacle of my life's journey up to this point in time. I came home and spent some time with Che LL - originally intended as a time of prayer but turned into the revelation and breakthrough in music and worship - and she dug with me to uncover some deeply rooted fears that I had with regards to exams and performances. After my guard was let down, she threw me a curve-ball by asking - "What is your instrument?". In my mind, it was a funny question, but perhaps she wanted me to speak it out. I responded with the very obvious "My flute.". She shook her head and asked me twice more.

Earlier this year, one of the running slogans for my college's open day was 'art isn't sensible, it's spiritual'. Dad linked me a sermon just last week by Rev. David Jeremiah and he said something that pried a buried part of me open. Spiritual worship is not so much a state of the art as it is the state of the heart. Dad was talking to me about the importance of using the gifts that God has given me and using it every possible moment. He was talking about writing songs, playing the flute, serving with my instrument whenever possible.

When Che LL continued with the conversation, she talked about how music is fueled by emotions, feelings. Music requires a stimulant to have a voice. She talked about how artists turn to drugs and such for the illusion of a stimulant. She talked about how instruments are man-made, but the heart is God-made.

Late May/early June of this year saw a ravaging of things and people who were so dear to my heart. I was battered down and so broken and discouraged. The encouragement was that things had to happen the way they did so God could work on my heart. God brought people around me - His family - people who helped me get up and cheered me on as I started walking again. People who gave of themselves - not because they owed me anything, but just because they wanted to bless me. Contrary to the satisfaction that I had, thinking that getting up and walking again was the whole point, God began piecing my heart back together to get it ready for the day when He revealed the whole purpose of this additional six months.

He revealed these things to me when the time was right. I thought of Kak Y and began to see how she put her heart into everything she did, especially when she sang unto Him. She didn't have to say that she did - it was obvious. It showed. God taught me that when I put my heart into what I do, I shall open and no one shall shut, and I shall shut and no one shall open. He has given me something so precious, and in His time, He has taught me to use this weapon.

Spending time with Him in the morning is refreshing.

This race has come to its conclusion for me, and as I look back, I am beginning to see His hand upon every step of the way. I am thankful that His purpose has come to pass and excited for what is ahead.

I am victorious in Him who says I am. I have overcome for my God gives me strength!

The Warrior is a Child

Lately I've been winning battles left and right

But even winners can get wounded in the fight
People say that I'm amazing
I'm strong beyond my years
But they don't see inside of me
I'm hiding all these tears

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down
They don't know who picks me up when no one is around
I drop my sword and cry for just a while

'Coz deep inside this armor
The warrior is a child

Unafraid because His armor is the best
But even soldiers need a quiet place to rest
People say that I'm amazing
I never face retreat
But they don't see the enemies
That lay me at His feet

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down
They don't know who picks me up when no one is around
I drop my sword and cry for just a while

'Coz deep inside this armor

The warrior is a child

This song was brought to me again the week before my birthday. This was one of Kak Y's favourite songs. Tears welling up, I sat at the piano and played this while Che LL sang.

I was reminded of the battle that Kak Y fought for two years or so. I was reminded of how she always told me that it's okay to cry. Today I saw another side of her as I caught up with a friend of ours. David comes to mind - how he sought the Lord as his refuge, how he sought the Lord for his comfort, and how he cried to the Lord in all those times of tiredness and distress. The good ol' Psalms.

The Lord opened the door for me the start baking again. Fund raising for the field, I guess. He's equipped me with such varied skills and most say that it's amazing. But just like the song says, I may be a warrior, but I'm also very much a child. There's a lot of uncertainty. As I'm writing this, He's showing me that this uncertainty needs to be transformed into a reliance and trust on Him.

Many a time I fall into the trap of uncertainty and this leads to me putting up a false front of confidence or avoiding the situation altogether. This is not what surrender is. It's scary to realise how far from 'home' I've run. I need to go home because the further I run, the more I'm going to fall.

Time flies and it's almost the end of the semester. Getting right with Him is a daily thing. *hits self on head* The next few months is going to be critical for what is coming next.

The song is a timely reminder that being vulnerable is alright - only in front of Him. And my parents. I've discovered that I'm actually really worried about how my parents are going to view my next step when I don't even know what's coming. I'm so afraid of being in the wrong lane and unable to switch lanes when I arrive at the crossroad.

The crossroad is approaching. I am but a child.