convicted.

noun

a firmly held opinion or belief

*

Conviction is a scary thing. It is also beautiful. I am, of course, speaking of it in the context of my faith. 

I just came home from our church's teens camp, in which I was a facilitator (called 'Handler', in our lingo). Handlers were there to facilitate group discussions, to follow up on the teens' lives and to be an all-round lookout for the physical/emotional/spiritual safety & well-being of our campers. 

I went to camp with the expectation to serve. My mindset was pretty firm on getting to know the teens a little better, guiding them closer to Christ through my words and actions, and to contribute to the camp the best that I could. Boy, was I in for a surprise.

It was the third day, and we had an hour of silence. We had this hour to meditate on Psalm 139, a passage in which King David speaks about God being all-knowing, all-present and all-powerful. These verses hit me like a ton of bricks:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;

test me and know my anxious thoughts.

Point out anything in me that offends you,

and lead me along the path of everlasting life.

[Psalm 139:23-24]

Without going too much into private detail, let's just say I broke down. Privately, and in front of the group of teens I led as I shared what I experienced. I was vulnerable and totally pierced by the force of God's whispers. He spoke to me in ways I never imagined; so much so that I lost track of time and returned to the hall half an hour later than the others.

I didn't know how a conviction felt till that hour. I never felt so strongly about something; something that I couldn't structure into a tangible, audible sentence. My perspective has never been this new, this fresh, that everything I see now is tinted with something indescribable, something of Christ. I was securely held by the still voice of God, and I had my guard down for the rest of the camp. I was open and I was strong, and yet I felt weak, too. It's complex, but I now understand.

Revelation after revelation followed, and it left me in awe. It felt like I got to know an old friend much better than I've ever had; but yet, I was in complete reverence of this King who came down to embrace me. I felt safe in His arms, and yet I trembled with respect for the God who created me. It was a completely new feeling, and yet it's like I came home to the place I grew up in. 

Thank You, Father. Thank You for Your love, Your mercies and Your grace so undeserving.

screens and dandelions

She smiles to herself as she watches another heart-warming video of a soldier coming home. She gives a small snort as another meme appropriately describes a friend's story. She rolls her eyes as another PPAP parody blares out of the speakers on her phone.

And after what seems like an endless conveyor-belt of stories on her Facebook news feed, she finds herself looking at something she already saw, and realises that she has been on Facebook for way too long. With two clicks and a press, she finds herself on Snapchat.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Her thumb mindlessly wades through hours of Snapchat stories, documented in noisy clubs, hipster cafes and college campuses. Her eyes take in frame after frame of badly-taken food photos, pretty faces of girls with dog snouts on them and distorted facial expressions. She puts filters on her own face, and amuses herself.

And soon enough, with two clicks and a press, she has wandered into the world of blue, blue Twitter. She scrolls through hundreds of mini blog posts that seem to amuse, offend, and interest her all at the same time. She taps on the little hearts, inviting a burst of red to symbolize her approval for a friend's funny thought. But as the swish of the timeline reveals zero new tweets, she moves on.

She teleports to Instagram, the vast world of visual images, moving and non-moving. Perfectly edited and symmetrical, she indulges in pictures of architecture, art and culture. And the food pictures, oh! What a stark contrast to the grainy cuisines on Snapchat. Other girls sweetly tucking their hair behind their ears, looking down at the ants on the gravel, being photographed by a compliant boyfriend admiring her beauty in a square frame. She wonders if she will ever experience the same thing.

Then a breeze moves across her face, and the voice of her baby brother chimes: "Look! Look what I found!" He holds up a bright, white dandelion, a brilliant grin plastered across his rosy cheeks.

She smiles, sets down her precious screen, and joins her brother in the warm, sunny backyard.

"That's a dandelion!" she tells him.

*

prayer.

God, 

You hear my pleas for change

the thoughts becoming strange

i long to turn the page

of memories engraved

God,

poison and toxic build

tension, bitterness, guilt

i want my soul refilled

align me with Your will

God,

save this soul from sorrow

for the sake of tomorrow

Your light i will follow

my heart sinks although hollow

God,

Your will, not mine, be done

to Your eternal love i run

may i emulate Your Son

in His death, all battles won

God,

i rest in Your embrace

grace me with Your grace

wipe the tears off my face

as i live through these days

amen

bubbles and sunshine

She takes a deep breath as she picks up her pen, all ready to let her thoughts flow. A short story is brewing, taking form in her busy brain. It is threatening to spill out onto lined paper. The empty journal is hungry, thirsty to be soaked with the black ink from a Faber-Castell pen.

"A sad story. That gets people real good."

 She is going to write a sad one. One with dramatic descriptions, a long-winded story line and an epic punchline. She is going to make herself cry with this story. 

She starts to write. She pours every sorrow she has into make-believe characters. She digs up past hurts and bitterness, only to be buried again in fiction. Arguments, tears and death takes place in her created universe. Flourishing entrances, dramatic exits. You can almost hear the symphony and its mourning.

But then she stops. Her pen hovers over a dying mother. She thinks twice, thrice, four times. The world has enough sadness, does it not?

With a rude scratch, the pen flies across her precious storytelling. It is now null and void, invalid. Officially unfinished.

"Maybe I'll write happiness instead." 

And so her pages begin to fill up with bubbles and sunshine.

*

8 Types of Close Friends

We all have close friends. I believe the people in my life are close to me in different ways. So here's some of them:

1. Passion Discussion
This type of close friend shares a favourite something. Be it a TV series, a K-pop band, a hobby, or a talent, this is the friend that you will fan-girl with. It may not even be hysterical or fanatic. Some of these passion discussion friends carry out meaningful, intelligent conversations about something you both are truly passionate about, like a field of study or a favourite non-fiction author.

2. Once in a Blue Moon
Ah, this close friend. The last time you heard from them was... six months ago? But one of your birthdays roll around, the annual phone call takes place, and BAM, you find yourself on the phone for the next three hours. It is during this phone call you start to find out that your friend's leaving for university in three weeks, got into a relationship a month ago and crashed her car just last week. But there's all this love and familiarity, so this kind of close friend is pretty fun to have, too.

3. Sick of Yo' Face
Seriously, you see this person every single day. You literally have the same schedule as this friend, and you most likely are their neighbour too. You grew up with this friend, probably went to the same kindergarten, and your parents are best friends as well. You are SICK OF THEIR FACE, and they most probably know everything about you only because you see them so much.

4. Kind Of But Not Really
This is the friend who is invited to your birthday party (and vice versa), gets you a birthday card, wishes you at 12am. You guys give each other Christmas presents, you all hang in the same gang, and other people associate you guys to each other. But... what is this friend doing currently? Studying? Studying where, and what? Nope, not sure. Wait, she's working? Close friend... kind of, but not really.

5. Philosopher
Mmm, this is the friend who chills with you having late night conversations about the existence of humanity. This person questions your very identity and challenges you to dream. Your friendship is based on deep conversations and crazy ideas, but you have absolutely no idea what they did yesterday.

6. Accident & Emergency
ALERT. PERIOD EMERGENCY. This is your go-to friend. Stained your pants? This friend's getting a text from you. In the fitting room and not sure which one fits you best? This friend's getting a ton of pictures of you wearing three different sizes of the same dress. Forgot to bring money? This friend's gonna have to dig out their wallet. Oops, sorry, A&E friend.

7. Online
Ah, the classic close friend of the 21st century. You talk to this friend for days on your online platforms. WhatsApp messages, Facebook posts, Twitter mentions... you name it. Your Snapchat streak with this person is off the roof, but, honestly, there's really nothing much to say once you see them face to face.

8. Doing Stuff
And finally, there's the doing stuff friend. The one who you always find yourself hanging out with. Shopping? This friend's right there. Watching The Maze Runner? Yup, watched it with this friend. Gotta buy some groceries? Yeah, this friend's probably there looking for some milk and cheese. Need to grab a coffee? This friend's gonna be ordering one for you.

And of course, the best kind of friend is the one you share passions with, talks with you for hours on end, sees you often, challenges you to be your best, is always there in emergencies, will hit you up for an online chat once in a while and also does all the mundane, everyday things with you. It's hard to find these special people, but when you do, hold on to them. Hold on tight.

when I was 8.

When I was 8, 18 was everything. 18 was the age I would be treated as an adult. 18 was the age glorified by the media, by tradition. 18 was between 16 and 21. It was the official end of childhood and the beginning of probationary adulthood. You could still have fun at 18. But you could have adult fun if you wanted. And no, that does not mean shady things. I meant adult fun like museums, road trips and dinner parties.

When I was 8, 18 seemed like a far-off matter.

When I was 8, 18 would be the time I know what I was supposed to do in this world. 18 would see me in a big, fancy university, studying with geniuses, lugging around large textbooks and discussing serious, grown-up things with professors in round glasses and grey, Einstein hair. These professors would be wearing white lab coats, all the time.

When I was 8, 18 seemed to be a fascinating world of socializing, parties and friends. No, I knew at 8 years old that I would never be one of them, clubbing their days away and drinking beer. But I did imagine at 8 that 18-year-old Jess would have a respectful, honourable but distant relationship with her family. Of course, Hollywood said so, right? At 18, you moved out. At 18, you had your own car, your own apartment, and definitely no parental supervision. What's not to love? 18 seemed like a darn great time.

When I was 8, 18 was the time where I would grow out of Bible stories. Stories about Noah, Abraham and Moses would be a vague, distant childhood memory. My parents singing "Jesus Loves Me" as a sweet lullaby would be stored away in a warm, fuzzy treasure chest at the back of my mind. The nights I spent writing Scripture verses in my little "memory verse" notebook at 8 years old would be a piece of cake compared to the science and math formulas I knew I had to memorize at 18.

But then, 18 happened to me this year.

18 sees me in university; at least that part is true. 18 makes me realize that I've advanced further in studies compared to my peers. Yet 18 has put me in humbling situations again, and again, and again. I did not meet professors with grey hair and white lab coats. Instead, I meet lecturers who are filmmakers, linguists and doctors. I meet lecturers who are activists, believers and single parents. I meet real-life people. And boy, do I learn a lot from them.

18 brings me close to my family. 8-year-old Jess loved her parents. 18-year-old Jess loves, respects and admires her parents more than ever. 8-year-old Jess played with her brother. But 18-year-old Jess shared thoughts, had debates, held conversations and conveyed deep feelings with her brother. 18-year-old Jess lives with her family, eats with them every day, and even works with them -- and it's ever so amazing. So warm, so loved, so secure. A huge part of me dreads leaving home one day.

And finally, 18 grows a faith in me I could never have imagined. 18 helps me to understand the importance of Noah, Abraham, Moses and their heroic stories. 18 still sings "Jesus loves me, this I know," because it's true. And 18-year-old Jess is ever thankful that the Word of God remains in a deep memory that is difficult to get rid of. 18 is a year of spiritual growth, a year of gratitude and a year of taking my faith seriously.

When I was 8, I imagined 18 to be full of knowledge, freedom and self-reliance.

But when 18 came around... 8 was proven wrong.

keep writing.

I want to write. I want to write shocking things. I want to write crazy things. I want to write funny things, sad things, lovely things. I want to make people laugh, cry, think, wake up. I want to inspire and encourage. I want to create dreams within people's imaginations.

When I write, I fly. I soar. But when I write I also break. I tear apart things that don't want to open. When I write, I dig deep. I gorge out the things that are hidden. When I write, my fingers chase my thoughts like a poor worker who missed the number 82 bus. When I write, I don't exist. I only live in words.

If I want to tell a story, I write. If I want to stand for something, I write. If I want to share joy, I write. If I want a burden lifted, I write. If I am lonely, I write. If anything, I write.

But things just get in the way, you know? Insecurities creep in and whisper their dissatisfaction into my tired ears. Your writing isn't that great. Come on, my mom loves the way I write! But she's your mom; of course she supports your work. But how about my friends? They like my blog. Oh, you mean those likes on the link you share on Facebook? You think those count? But...

It's okay, you see. It's okay to not like your work. It's okay to think you're not good enough, because that's the only way you are ever going to improve. It's okay to doubt your gifts, because you will find ways to prove them. And it's really, really okay to write just however you like, because you're the writer. You think of those words. You had an idea. You wanted to write about it. You did it.

You there. Keep writing.

trashy thoughts.

It's scary to think how much trash

Fills our full minds each day

Words and images and videos

Unstoppable, coming our way

We waste our time feeding our minds

With things not beneficial

We compare ourselves to those we see

On bases so superficial

Crazy, isn't it, when we think about

How people spent their time

Before technology and its impact

On lives, yours and mine

When information competes for space

In our brains so clouded

We think of nothing else but these

Opinions and ideas shrouded

We seek to think about ourselves

When there is so much more

that can be done to touch others' lives

Instead, perfection we adore

Changing who we are to what we want to be

To try to make an impression

All in the name of uniqueness

Individualism and self-expression

Complaints and swearing and negative vibes

Flooding our tortured souls

Affecting our lives and emotions

Getting in the way of life goals

Maybe it's time to care less

About others' perfect-life projection

Perhaps one day we will realize

Our minds need lots of protection

*

Finally, brothers and sisters, 

keep your thoughts on 

whatever is right or deserves praise:

 things that are true, honorable, 

fair, pure, acceptable, or commendable.

 - Philippians 4:8 -

it's so easy.

It's so easy to find yourself lost
It's so easy to see yourself falling into pits
you'd never thought you'd even encounter.
It's so easy to lose momentum
in the vast, crazy world of university life.

Surrounded by people from
All walks of life, different than you
Slipping into habits you never had before
Habits you never struggled with
Influences creeping in from all directions

No constant prodding from teachers
No obvious answers from the books
No red pens, no A's, no tables, even
There's nothing familiar, nothing I know
Nothing I can recall from my past

It's a shame; what was once a 'good girl'
Slowly slacking, hardly trying
Is it the long breaks and the mood swings?
Is it the insane amount of freedom?
Really, in university, it's
                                     just
                                          so
                                              easy.

26 - ZEAL

[The twenty-sixth and final entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

Oh, my word, it's finally done

What an eventful, blogging-filled month!

Filled with letters from A to Z

Here's how this journey has treated me!

First I felt anxious to start this game

I tried to prepare for the days that came

But then my posts started to be boring

Sigh, I wish I could just goreng :(

Chewing on potential posts every day

I even dared to write things I don't usually say

Excellence was something I tried to pursue

And I hope I didn't force anything on you

The challenge was really going great

Had all these rhymes popping into my head

Ideas were forming and just pouring out

Joy, kindness, laughter my posts talked about

Mornings were spent trying to stay ahead

Nights I wrote for tomorrow; I couldn't wait

Opening tabs to find suitable pics

From pexels.com, lovely stock photo picks!

Quitting this challenge was a temptation

Running away and seeking vacation

Truth be told, I was getting uninspired

Vetoing my own thoughts, becoming tired

Wisdom and knowledge were gained in this season

'Twas like using an x-ray to find a reason

For my love for writing and why it kept you engrossed

Zeal was what I had; thanks for reading my posts!

*

To all those who have been keeping up with my (almost) daily posts and encouraged me, I'd like to sincerely thank you for supporting me in my writing. It really was not easy trying to keep up with churning out a (hopefully) interesting topic and create (hopefully) legit rhymes about said topic. It almost felt as if I was half-dead in a marathon, gasping for air, yearning for energy as I reached the last few letters. Anyhow, it has been really fun to keep my blog so fresh like this, and I'm really not sure when I'll ever blog again! Maybe I'll stay away from this for the next year or so. (Jokes!)

Again, thank you for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed it. 

The #AtoZChallenge 2016 has been officially completed!

25 - YET

[The twenty-fifth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

Have you done your homework?

And have you fed the pet?

Oh, no, I was too busy

Not yet, no, not yet

The television's not working

Have you pressed "reset"?

Or are you kind of busy?

Not yet, no, not yet

Have you cleaned up the spot

That's muddy and quite wet?

Please, I'm really busy

Not yet, no, not yet

Have you visited your old friends

Or the friends that you've just met?

Really, I'm quite busy so

Not yet, no, not yet

Have you hugged your children?

You're too busy, I would bet

But really, have you done it?

Not yet, no, not yet

Have you called your parents?

Or did you 'conveniently' forget?

Oh, I'm just too busy

Not yet, no, not yet

But if this was your last day

You'd better not regret

Will you still keep saying

Not yet, no, not yet?

24 - X

[The twenty-fourth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

X is fascinating, strange little letter

Something unknown, something better

It's made up of diagonally-crossed bars

Just like how people paint little white stars

X marks the spot where pirates hide treasure

It's what you mark with when you use a tape measure

Sometimes our answers get X's on them, too

When the teacher finds errors in the work she goes through

X, pronounced 'chi', the twenty-second letter in Greek

Let me tell you a fact from this Christian geek

The X in X-mas actually represents Christ

So don't say X-mas was a Jesus-heist!

X, the mortal enemy of those who hate math

The unknown that induces irrational wrath

X, a real tough letter to write with a brush

Trust me, I know, you should not rush

X, the men who were biologically mutated

X, for movies that have been *a-hem* rated

X for xtremepapers.com, our best friend

For past year papers in our schools till the very end

Okay, I admit the last one was so forced

I guess that's all about X that I have to endorse

X was really tough; thanks for all your suggestions

Hope all these rhymes didn't give you indigestion!

23 - WASN'T

[The twenty-third entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

He was perfect, without sin

A man with God within

He was sent to earth to save

With all He had, He gave

A divine soul, powerful

Grace surpassing every rule

Forgiving the unforgivable

Loved more than conceivable

She, on the other hand, fell

A mortal destined for hell

Ungrateful, malicious and cold

To the Enemy, her spirit was sold

Married to, enslaved by sin

Passed down generations, next-of-kin

Forever cursed, forever lost

No spotless lamb could pay the cost

He who was utterly blameless

And she, the opposite of shameless

A new life with Him, she could begin

If she was perfect, without sin.

But she wasn't.

And He loved her anyway.

22 - VIOLINIST

[The twenty-second entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

She removes her violin gingerly

From the solid black case

Giving the strings a little strum

As a smile spread across her face

Opens the compartment for rosin

Unlocks the bow from its confine

Tightens the hair of the horsetail

Making sure they are well-aligned

She sets her bow on the table

As she switches on a tuner

She plucks each string and listens

Slowly; tuning can't be done sooner

At last, her violin's ready

To produce the beautiful sound

Of music by Bach, Vivaldi, Seitz

Paganini; composers renowned

As she places her bow on the string

And counts, "One, two, three"

Takes a breath, and all that's left is

Just the violin, the music, and she.

21 - UNIVERSITY

[The twenty-first entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

I haven't been to a class

In almost one whole year

Frankly, I do miss school

I wish August was here

In August I am going

To the big kids' place

I'm beyond excited

A nerd once, a nerd always

In this big kids' school

I meet people I don't know

I can't wait to learn things

Imagine how much I can grow!

I miss the smell of textbooks

And seeing peers every day

I miss trying to stay awake

And listening to what teachers say

I miss the daily hustle

Of rushing for deadlines

I miss the kind of stress

Of wracking our tired minds

Can't wait to see new people

Can't wait to learn new things

Can't wait to get new books

Can't wait to spread my wings!

20 - THOUGH

[The twentieth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

though I know in my mind

I know not in my heart

it simply continues existing

it would not come apart

though I tell it a million times, no

it just refuses to leave

I beg and beg, but like a spoilt child

it doesn't seem to receive

though I know it's wrong

I just can't seem to stop

on and on this thinking goes

constantly causing mood-drops

though it's malicious

to think of things this way

it aggravates me so

is this the price to pay?

though I want to be relieved

of this niggling creature

I just try to comfort myself

that this is human nature

though there is this darkness

that creeps and stays in me

I'm thankful for acceptance

from Him who died on a tree 

19 - SHADY

[The nineteenth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

A peculiar word I once used so much

There was no other word as such

There's no way to say it like a lady

Yup, that's right! I'm talking about "shady"

Shady, like trees with many leaves

I said shady so much; it became a pet peeve

Shady, like an umbrella, shelter from the rain

I said shady so much; it became quite a pain

Shady, like a bus-stop, where one waits and sits

I said shady so much; I was losing my wits

Shady, like a cap, that shields from the sun

I said shady so much; it was no more fun

Shady, like a wanted, suspicious man

I said shady so much; people started to ban

Shady, like a dodgy-looking motel

I said shady so much; they all started using it as well

Shady, like unexpected, strange behaviour

I said shady so much; I really needed a saviour

Shady, like an old, abandoned lorry

I said shady so much; so I'd like to say I'm sorry!

*

Seriously though; for those who hung around me a lot the past five to six months or so, you'll understand just how much I used "shady" to describe literally everything. To all those who endured my "shady" usage and even those who started using it uncontrollably... I apologize! *bows*

18 - REMINISCE

[The eighteenth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

the old rocking chair creaks

in its quiet corner of sixty years

back and forth, it goes

just like it has always been

the rusty gate, un-oiled

screeching arthritis at the hinges

back and forth, it goes

just like it has always been

the long, untamed grass

a-waving in the wind

back and forth, it goes

just like it has always been

the ceramic flower pot, chipped

dangling from the porch ceiling

back and forth, it goes

just like it has always been

the creviced wooden porch swing

termite-infested, yet solid

back and forth, it goes

just like it has always been

you stand at the faded welcome sign

at the cottage where grandma still lives

"back and forth, you go,

my dear, where have you been?"

17 - QUIRKY

[The seventeenth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

You may have wonky eyes

Or you may have knobby knees

Maybe you have a couple of

Idiosyncrasies

You could be a fast-talker

Or maybe you daydream

Perhaps you like knitting scarves

For your entire football team

Maybe you like smelling books

Or tapping their delicious spines

Maybe you love the colours of 

Traffic lights and road signs

You might be way too tall

Or even way too short

So what if you're twenty-six

And still love to build a fort?

We should all hold tight onto

Our odd little features

Come on, we're all made different

To be quirky little creatures.

16 - PIECES

[The sixteenth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

a vase precariously placed

on the mahogany desk 

it trembles when the winds blow

it stops when the winds rest

it sits silent and majestic

intricately decorated art

its solid body stands through the years

a work of its potter's heart

one day it chooses to see

what the world could offer it

with its own strength it moves

falls from where it used to sit

it is halfway down when

the vase realises its folly

it tries too hard to save itself

with desperate cries, says sorry

calling out to its master

the distance to the floor decreases

a swift hand reaches out to catch the vase

and saves it from becoming pieces

15 - OVER

[The fifteenth entry in April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

- a limerick -

Just a niggling thought

With all her strength she fought

Against this speck

That seemed to wreck

It left her exhausted and wrought

Get over it, she told her mind

Drowned her sorrows in figurative wine

It was such a chore

To feel this sore

She kept telling herself to be kind

This darned thought picked at her soul

It left her feeling unbearably cold

She pushed it away

It returned the next day

And pummeled her a thousand fold

Please leave, she commanded this thought

But the thought had its own will, so it did not

It stayed right there

Like it did not care

How it seemed to cause our poor friend to rot

Just so pitifully she remained in this pit

As this thought killed her bit by bit

Frustrated was she

Who just wanted to see

Her poor self just get over it.

14 - NUMB

[The fourteenth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

in response to anything

children laugh, cry, sing

they just express

there are smiles and pouts

there are screams and shouts

no need to guess

if they feel sad, tears fall

if they feel proud, stand tall

there are signs

if they feel joy, all smiles

if they feel fear, run miles

simple minds

but as they age, it starts

the hardening of hearts

less emotion

building walls around self

just so difficult to delve

no expression

to think it's weak to display emotion

is a terrible, misleading notion

so dumb

their hearts have turned solid

their souls become stolid

all numb

13 - MELODIES

[The thirteenth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

A ringing harmony

A clashing dissonance

Furiously loud

Heard from a distance

Leaping octaves

A minor chord

Dynamics shift

Gentleness ignored

Diminished sevenths

Augmented sixths

Unpleasant to the ear

It can't be fixed

Where's the major thirds

And perfect fifths?

The tuneful melodies

And harmonious riffs?

Save us, relieve us

From this pain

We want to hear

Sweet melodies again.

12 - LACK

[The twelfth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

Dear human of this world

Man, woman, boy and girl

What is it you lack?

An iPhone, or a Mac?

Are you craving for more?

Like the dress that model wore?

I, too, am lacking things

Not in the sense of diamond rings

But a feeling of lack is present

Incompetency; how unpleasant

The moments of feeling less

When I could've been my best

Striving to get what I want

Doing all that could be done

Seeking more and more

Try to open every door

Our wants our never-ending

But In Him, we lack nothing.

11 - KNIVES

[The eleventh entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

Knives can stab

And knives can dice

Knives can cut

And knives can slice

Knives can pierce

A person's heart

Knives can break

Something apart

Knives can cause

Big to be small

Knives can wound

Or just end it all

Knives can be blunt

Or sharp they can be

But, either way

They can hurt easily

So here's something

Let the truth be heard

Replace every "knives"

With "a word".

10 - JEJUNE

[The tenth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

It is extremely difficult

To interest somebody

'Cause written forms of art

Can really be quite cruddy

It's a writer's nightmare

For people to be bored

It's hard to judge what fascinates

And what would strike a chord

When writing poems that rhyme

There is a giant risk

Of a forcefully conveyed message

To make sure the point isn't missed

Unfortunately it happens

And you might feel it soon

I really hope my poems aren't

Entirely jejune.

---

je·june

/jiˈjo͞on/

adjective

(of ideas or writings) dry and uninteresting.

9 - IMMACULATE

[The ninth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

Neatness is important

Arrangement is a must

Immaculate people

Are people you can trust

Store away all trinkets

Make sure your clothes are folded

Alphabetize all your books

Socks should be colour-coded

Write in straight lines on your book

And use a ruler, please

Ensure all words are aligned

So my mind will be at peace

Clear the items on the table

And make sure it is clean

Sweep the floor and wipe the shelves

There should be no dust seen

Immaculate people ensure

All things are to the dot

But everything described here

Is everything I'm not!

8 - HELLO

[The eighth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

7 - GRACE

[The seventh entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

Filthy, disgusting, thrown out with the waste

Shame and guilt was all that Man faced

Unwanted, rejected, covered in mold

Shiver in darkness and suffer in cold

Man fell into pits again and again

He fought with the storms and drowned in the rain

Impatient and bitter was he without You

He pushed You away when You tried to pursue

Rebellious, unwilling to change for the better

Worshiping idols and gods that don't matter

Refusing to come back to Your embrace

But here You are, full of love, same as always

You reach out to Man as Man walked away

With nails, a cross, and scars, You did pay

For Man's sins, so revolting, so dark, so deep

You look at his unfaithfulness and start to weep

But still you reach out, with a smile on Your face

A second chance for Man to be saved by Your grace.

---

for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, 

and are justified by his grace as a gift, 

through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus

- Romans 3:23 -

6 - FUN

[The sixth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

Every so often I remind myself

When a piece of my writing's done

I write not to impress, or show

I'm writing because it's fun

It's sad when no one laughs

At my jokes or a clever pun

But again, I write because I enjoy it

I'm writing because it's fun

I must remind myself

I don't have to be number one

I don't have to chase popularity

I'm writing because it's fun

When I don't receive the "likes" I expect

My heart will weigh a ton

And once again I tell my myself

I'm writing because it's fun

I could use big words to describe

The luminous, effulgent sun

But no, I keep it simple when

I'm writing because it's fun

Writing may not be my career

Heck, I've only just begun

Whether it's just a hobby or not

I'm writing because it's fun

I write what I think and feel

And not just to please everyone

I write because that is my voice

I'm writing because it's fun.

5 - EXAMPLES

[The fifth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

E is such a common letter
You find it so easily
Here are examples of words
Starting with the letter E:

A fisherman is one who fishes

At sea and docks on sand

But one who fishes under a bridge

Is called an ebberman

Pastel colours are so pretty

But they look like a fever pill

Did you know a pale green colour

Is also called eau-de-nil?

You might call it a hangover

Alcohol causing exhaustion

But a mental breakdown from over-drinking

Is called ebriection

A tool for measuring boiling point

I didn't know what it was, nope

But then I found out that it was

An ebullioscope

Cats and dogs have long tails

I'm sure you don't have one, mate

In other words, something tailless

Is also ecaudate

Too much Ricola candy
Might get you a little sick

You might even feel the laxative

'Cause it's eccoprotic

Made a little typo?

Does your work need a correction?

I guess you'd better edit it

And make an emendation

Because these words are crazy

And because you are my friend

I won't torture you any longer

This poem shall hereby end.

*Disclaimer: I never knew these words existed before I looked up "interesting words starting with E" on Google. So please tell me if I'm using them wrongly; I want to learn too! 

4 - DECIDE

[The fourth entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

We decide for ourselves

Each and every day

We decide how to behave

What to feel and what to say

Decide to be good

For goodness is rare

Decide to be happy

No one wants despair

Decide to be kind

In all that you do

Decide to be considerate

When you use the loo

Decide to be thoughtful

And celebrate a birthday

Decide to be adventurous

And go the wrong way

Decide to be polite

Say please and thank you

Decide to be responsible

Pay up when it's due

Decide to be pretty

It's your body anyway

Decide to be worth it

Doesn't matter what they say

Decide to be intelligent

Learn, learn and learn

Decide to provide for those you love

With the money that you earn

Decide to feel loved

For there are many who care

Decide to feel important

And don't ever compare

Decide to love yourself

Because God created you

A beautiful creature in His image

Believe it, 'cause it's true. 

3 - CALLIGRAPHY

[The third entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge.]

*

The sliding of a nib into its holder
The click of a brush pen uncapped
The scratches of pencil on rough paper
The excess ink drips off when the nib is tapped

The push and pull of the brush's bristles
The dipping of nib into ink
The pleasure of choosing the colours to use
Orange, black, purple or pink?

The satisfaction of adding a flourish
To complete a meaningful quote
Spending hours to admire the work
Showing off so that others can dote

Practice and practice makes permanent
And perfect practice makes perfect
Alas, the feeling of disappointment
When rushed work creates a defect

But that's alright; it's part of the process
Of honing new-found skills
Time spent on art is always worthwhile
Even if you're working on drills

Calligraphy has found a place in my life
As you may have probably seen
I have learnt much, and will continue
What a wonderful journey it has been!

Follow @cachennywrites on Instagram to have a look at my calligraphy & lettering pieces. Still an amateur, but I'm learning! :)

2 - BARTHOLOMEW

[The second entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge]

*

Here's a little story

I hope it interests you

It's a story of man, named

Mister Bartholomew

He loved to wear his hat

On his head slightly askew

Nobody cared enough to ask

"But why, Bartholomew?"

He was not popular

Friends he had a few

And even his "friends" spoke badly of

Our guy Bartholomew

On Sundays, he goes to church

And sits on a wooden pew

Nobody else sits next to him

Lonely Bartholomew

There was something wrong with him

And everyone quite knew

Everybody knows his flaw...

Except Bartholomew

It wasn't long before

Bart himself withdrew

From society and its standards

Sigh, sad Bartholomew

He packed his bags and left

Lifted his crooked hat, bade adieu

To the town that so cruelly shunned

Mister Bartholomew

1 - ARROGANCE

[The first entry of April 2016's A-to-Z Blogging Challenge]

*

Arrogance, a puffed-up fellow

With his suave suit and tie

His hair all up in styling gel

Feeling almighty and high

He fights to hide all things flawed

He seeks to promote and boast

He thrives on shallow comparison

He loves himself the most

Everyone else is worst than he

Everyone else cannot compare

Everyone else is below par

Their success is just unfair

Apology is his worst enemy

Narcissism is his brother

Ego is his best-est friend

Birthed by Insecurity, his mother

A thin line separates him

From his better twin, Confidence

Just an additional O-V-E-R

And there you find dear Arrogance.

Brush lettering with red Artline Stix. 

A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2016!

Hello everyone!

You could be a friend or family member who has kept up with my existing blog posts, or you could have arrived at this space through the links up on the A-to-Z Challenge website. Either way, welcome to my attempts at blogging for 26 straight days!

The A-to-Z Blogging Challenge is held in April 2016, where this community of bloggers is given 26 days (basically every single day of April, except Sundays -- thank goodness for rest!) to write in an alphabetical fashion. Basically, for each day of April, the blog posts must begin with a certain letter of the alphabet, starting with A, followed by B and so on. Check them out here!

So after countless of resuscitation attempts of my blog, I hope this challenge spurs me on to write more. I may be posting 26 days of poetry, just so that this challenge will have some kind of order on my blog. Seeing the other blogs participating in this challenge has got me all motivated (and also slightly intimidated), because they've already been blogging for the past month and scheduling those posts for the challenge!

BUT THAT'S OK, I'M JUST GONNA WING IT, and hopefully produce quality writing.

So I hope you enjoy my daily posts. Let the blogging begin!

Jess

He's Alive!

An Easter poem

On the cross, He died for us
Three days pass, He's back to life
He's alive, He's alive, He's alive!

Let me encourage you with this
If you're struggling to survive
He's alive, He's alive, He's alive!

Don't fret if you're in trouble
Don't fret if you're in strife
He's alive, He's alive, He's alive!

Get off that balcony, leave those pills
And put down that rusty knife
He's alive, He's alive, He's alive!

Tell your friends, tell your family
Tell your husband, tell your wife
He's alive, He's alive, He's alive!

The good news is for everyone
Whether you're eighty or five:
He's alive, He's alive, He's alive!

*

Have a blessed Easter!

more than just a face.

She is more than just a face

She is more than just her skin

There is so much more to her

There is so much more within

She knows she has zits

She knows her oily complexion

She knows she looks exhausted

She knows she's not an attraction

But her skin glows when she speaks

Of the people and things she loves

Her smile displays joy genuine

When she praises her God above

She knows her face used to be round

And she may have lost some weight

She knows that she's not as fit as she'd like

But who are you to rate?

Do you know she has passions?

Do you know she has a dream?

Do you know she loves to teach

And watch her students' faces beam?

Do you realise she's more than grades?

Do you know what she loves most?

Do you know she loves to write

And pour out her thoughts in prose?

She does not care that she looks like this

And she doesn't care when you mention

But what she wants is for you to know

She's worth more if you pay attention

So, she is more than just a face

She is more than just her skin

There is so much more to her

There is so much more within.