How Long must I put up with You?

Someone asked me, "What questions do you have for God."

Oh gosh, there were so many... too many.

I wanted to ask Him what's going on in his mind in the Calvary as he faced head-on the brutality of the very people he loves so much and came to save. Being betrayed and disowned by his closest disciples and rejected by the people he once delivered. The mental and emotional torment is unimaginable. He could have given up. Imagine the change He has to make, the distance He has to travel. What would it be like to become flesh?

You would have thought God Himself would make a more spectacular entry into the world He created. Even the invading aliens from "War of the Worlds" could have done better. Freak lightning storms. Strong gusts of wind. Clouds twirling above... swirling around a single spot above. Meteor shower. Shooting stars. EMPs. Time stopped... literally. Earthquakes. Bolts of lighting striking the ground. Trumpets of angels echoed. Chorus of joyous singing in the background. Heavens open. And in a flash of blinding, white light. Behold! God Almighty has arrived! In style too... But as things turn out, when He came, hardly anyone noticed. Bethlehem held no parade, no celebration. No... nothing like that sort. Of all places... a dirty, stinky stable?? A poor, small-time carpenter Joseph for father? You would have expect someone with more clout... richer, smarter and powerful. Joseph can't even afford a hotel room, for goodness 's sake.

One evening, an army of ants has invaded my dinner table. "Must be the remnants of mossels of last night's supper," I thought. Leaning down to make sure they could hear me, "Hey, ants! Shoo! Let me have my meal in peace." No reply. No one looked in my direction. Then I realized, "I don't speak their language. They won't understand what I'm trying to tell them." On hindsight, I must have looked pretty silly trying to communicate to a group of ants. So what could I do to reach them, to pass them the message instead of just killing them in one stamp of the hand? Only 1 thing. I needed to become an ant. To become one of them. Go from 1.70 metres to a teeny-weeny. From 64kg to a millionth of a milligram. Swap my big world for their tiny one. Give up eating burgers to eating leftover mossels and trash. "No thanks! No way I'm going to give up what I have now to be an ANT!" I said.

How does it feels like to bear the weight of sins of all Mankind on His shoulders? To be wrongfully accused and persecuted of crimes He never commit. To be punished when He is innocent. To be mocked and beaten publicly as He paraded half-naked or naked(which some historians believe) along the streets. Streets lined with people on both sides, ridiculing and sneering. "Let Him save Himself if He's Christ, the Chosen One." Just Him and His Cross. 3 times He stumbled and fell, under its sheer weight. Weak. Groggy. Battered. Blood streaming down His face from the crown of thorns. Blurred vision. Parched lips. Gory back. Cold, clammy sweat from shock. Dehydrated. Exhausted. Bloodied body broken, mutilated and barely recognizable as a man. Flesh ripped to shreds. Hands and feet impaled to the Cross. Mouth agape. Gasping for breath. Struggling to hold on as long as He can. Despised and rejected by the world He created, He pressed on. Using every ounce of energy left in that disfigured body, each breath He drawn is labored. A wheezing noise from the lungs. Life's ebbing out of His body. Those eyes... half-shut, lifeless, sorrowful, yet a sense of quiet determination to complete what He is born to do. God trapped in a human body. Fragile. Helpless. Dying. Surely, Jesus can simply walk away from all that. At any step along the way he could have called it quits. But he didn't. "He was in the world, and though the world was made through Him, the world did not recognize Him. He came to that which was His own, but His own did not receive Him." (John 1:10-11) The suffering of Christ was portrayed in all of its horror. It began with him praying in the garden and his humble “thy will be done.” In the midst of pain and sorrow, his thoughts were about others.

Jagged nails... splintered wood... furrowed wounds... fractured body... cause of death: asphyxiation. Unimaginable pain He suffered. But none hurt as much as the indifference and rejection of Man. Doors slammed in His face, backs turned on Him, backstabbed by whom He called "friends", blows after blows rained upon His heart that day. That is where the hurt is. That is what pained Him the most.

How disappointed is Jesus when those that verbally accepted Him as Christ, listened to His preachings, saw His miracles, simply turned a blind eye and walked away when He is prosecuted on the Calvary. In the distance, the women who had followed His teachings from Galilee, watched as the humiliation and punishment were administered. One by one they came, they gathered, they watched, they witnessed as the drama unfolded before them. But not one... no... not a single soul dare to come forward and testified Jesus is the Son of Man. Jesus is not ashamed of them... but they are ashamed of Christ. How did Jesus endure treatment like that? At any point, he could have said, "I quit. I've had enough." Why didn't He? What kept him from giving up? The fact is... He didn't. He refused to turn and leave. Why? Becoz His love for His children was greater than the pain of the journey. His love conquers all that belies His destiny. He came to pull you out. That's why He came. You were dead, mired in sin. That's why He came. He loves you. That's why He came. His Destiny is the Cross.

How Jesus can accept the undecisiveness and fickle-mindedness of Man? One minute they say, "I love you Lord. You're first in my life, before anything else. I'm willing to do anything for you." Yet, at the slightest challenge, the heart falters. Man hesitates to make a stand for God. They don't turn up to meet God. They made Him wait. They fail in their promises. Unlike Jesus, Man always has difficulty in grasping the true meaning of what they say and profess.

Even Jesus Himself has said in Mark 9:19 "How long must I put up with you?" Jesus's actions later on will answer his own question.

Long enough to be called crazy by my brothers and a liar by my neighbors. Long enough to be chased out of my own town and Temple. Long enough to be laughed at, cursed, sweared, slapped, beaten, flogged, blindfolded and mocked. Long enough to feel the warm spit and thorned whips ripped my flesh off and see my own blood puddle at my feet.

How long? "Until the rooster sings and the sweat stings and the mallet rings and a group of demons smirk at a dying God of Most High."

How long? "Long enough for every sin to so soak my sinless soul that heaven will turn in horror until my swollen lips pronounce the final transaction: 'It is finished.'"

How long? "Until it kills me."

Love... bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Cor 13:4-7)

Jesus did all that. Every single one. That's what true love is and embodies. He has come down from His throne in the Kingdom to lowly earth and shown us how love become the centre His life. Even in His death, love is demonstrated. The precious Lamb of God has personified love. He bore sins, yours and mine too. The standard has been set by the God who says, "He IS love" (1 John 4:16).

Adapted from Max Lucado, A Love Worth Giving. Modified by me

The Gardener who Believes

Alex was a poor Syrian farmer. All right, he's just officially become one. You see, he's recently inherited from their father a piece of land. As a youngster, along with his 2 brothers, he used to help his father during the busy summer harvest period. However, when it comes to real farming, he's really an amateur still. But Alex's determined to be a good farmer, just like his dad. "Son, you can do it! You shall be a greater farmer than I ever was." was his father's last words. One day, this flashback came upon him and he bought a packet of wheat seeds from the market.

Then, Alex went out to the fields to plant the seeds. He's never sow seeds before. A thought raced to his mind, "How difficult can this be anyway? It's just seeds." As he scattered it across his fields, some seeds fell on a footpath, and the birds came and ate it. Other seeds fell on shallow soil with underlying rock. The plant sprang up quickly, but it soon wilted beneath the hot sun and died because the roots had no nourishment in the shallow soil. Other seeds fell among thorns that shot up and choked out the tender blades so that it produced no grain. Still other seeds fell on fertile soil and produced a crop that was thirty, sixty, and even a hundred times as much as had been planted.

Unlike animals, plants are limited in their ability to seek out favorable conditions for life and growth. Consequently, plants have evolved many ways to disperse and spread the population through their seeds. A seed must somehow "arrive" at a location and be there at a time favorable for germination and growth. Those properties or attributes that promote the movement of the next generation away from the parent plant may involve the fruit more so than the seeds themselves. The function of a seed typically is one of serving as a delaying mechanism: a way for the new generation to suspend its growth and allow time for dispersal to occur or to survive harsh, unfavorable conditions of cold or dryness or both. In many if not most cases each plant species achieves success in finding ideal locations for placement of its seeds through the basic approach of producing numerous seeds.

The farmer I talked about is a courier who brings God's message to others. The seed that fell on the hard path represents those who hear the message, but then Satan comes at once and takes it away from them. The rocky soil represents those who hear the message and receive it with joy. But like young plants in such soil, their roots don't go very deep. At first they get along fine, but they wilt as soon as they have problems or are persecuted because they believe the word. The thorny ground represents those who hear and accept the Good News, but all too quickly the message is crowded out by the cares of this life, the lure of wealth, and the desire for nice things, so no crop is produced. But the good soil represents those who hear and accept God's message and produce a huge harvest – thirty, sixty, or even a hundred times as much as had been planted.

Seed signifies the beginning of life. Ask a couple who has been trying to conceive for years what a seed means to them. HOPE. Simple as that.
PURPOSE:
to disperse and spread the population of the plant
KEY FACTORS:
ground/soil conditon, the amount of seeds scattered (dispersal method) and the care administered by the farmers.

As seen from the above parable from Mark 4:1-20, there are many, many obstacles (eg. birds and thorns) blocking or hindering the growth of the seed planted in the soil. Young plants whose roots doesn’t go very deep into the ground may also wilter and die under harsh conditions, of which the saplings have yet developed the ability to withstand.

Similarly, we are like “gardeners”, tending the plot of land scattered with seeds of Christ. We need to clear the weeds and chase away the rodents and pests that disrupt and eat away the life of the young saplings. The plot of land is huge… one cannot do this alone. Hence, by working in a team, a group of gardeners can give full atttention, tender, loving care of the growing crops. Alex and his brothers toil in the fields daily. When it’s time to reap what they have sowed, the farmers’ visages glowed with pride. Their sweat and efforts aren’t wasted. Behold! A handsome reward spreads out in the slanting rays of the setting sun in the horizon. They looked at the glorious, shimmering field of ripen grains in the sunset and they rejoiced. "Man, they looked like gold" Alex thought. Indeed, the fields of wheat seemed to be adorned in golden robes that evening.

At the end of the next few weeks of milling and threshing the raw wheat into chaffs and grains. Staring at the bales of wheat stalks and sacks of grains, hands on his hips, for the 1st time in his life, Alex beamed with tremendous satisfaction. The countless quarrels and conflicts they had at the dinner table and sleepless nights worrying over the growth of the crops, eg. the brand of pesticide used, fertilizers to nourish the plants, way to irrigate the crops, which and how much machinery to hire to thresh and pound the wheat, no. of workers to hire during the harvest period, the sellers at the market who will want to buy their grains, the early struggles to wake-up in the wee hours of the morning, the endless ploughing with the ox under the scorching sun, sweltering heat etc… ALL they’ve forgotten. WHY??

“Because the harvest has come….” (Mark 4:29) Alex believes a bountiful harvest awaits him. For the weather-beaten farmers, the result is worth everything more than the process. Even if their harvest fail to meet his expectations, if you asked them if he would start all over again next season. Without a hint of hesitation, “Yes I will try again.” came the prompt reply. Even if the success rate is 0.000001%, Alex will be willing to invest the long, tiring hours and start the whole process all over again. WHY? Becoz Alex believes what his father told him.

Someone once planted a seed in you. All because of one seed. All because someone believed in you. Wouldn’t you have done the same for someone else? God believes in you. There is such power in belief. You may save someone's life. Believe in them as God has believed in you. Could you take that belief that he has in you and pass it to someone else? Could you believe in someone? Well, you should. Coz someone else once did.

Punchinello & The Most Marvellous Gift

The whole town is bustling to get ready for Maker Day. Hans is baking his seven-layer Chocolate Cherry Truffle Cake with Double Butter-cream Frosting. Violet is putting the finishing touches on her mountainous bouquet. Lucia is warming up for her solo, featuring the amazing Dr. Marvel and his Marvelaphony-organoni. And Punchinello is just baffled. He has nothing that would even compare to their fabulous creations, and especially nothing wonderful enough to honor Eli on Maker Day. Yet, in the midst of the celebration, something goes terribly awry and Punchinello comes to the rescue with the most precious gift of all—a gift from the hearts of all Wemmicks to honor the Maker on His special day.

The Wemmicks were small wooden people. These little wooden people were carved by a woodworker named "Eli." Eli's workshop sat on a hill overlooking the Wemmick Village. Every one of the Wemmicks were different. Some had big noses, others had large eyes. Some were tall and others were short. Some wore hats, others wore coats. But all were made by the same carver and all lived in the same village. All day long, every day, the Wemmicks did the same thing. They gave each other stickers. Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of dull gray dot stickers. Up and down the streets all over the city, people could be seen sticking gold stars or gray dots onto each other. The pretty ones, those with smooth wood and fine paint, always got shiny gold stars! But if the wood was rough or the paint was chipped, the Wemmicks gave dull gray dots. The talented ones got stars, too. Some could lift big sticks high above their heads or jump over tall boxes. Still others knew big words or could sing very pretty songs. Everyone gave them shiny gold stars! Some Wemmicks had stars all over them! Every time they got a star it made them feel so good that they did something else and got another star. There were many other Wemmicks though that could do very little. They got dull gray dots! There was one little Wemmick and his name was "Punchinello." He tried to jump high like the others, but he always fell. And when he fell, the others would gather 'round and give him dull gray dots. Sometimes when he fell, it would scar his wood, so the people would give him more gray dots. He would try to explain why he fell and, in doing so, he would say something really silly. Then the Wemmicks would give him some more dots!!! After a while, Punchinello had so many dots that he didn't want to go outside. He was afraid he would do something dumb such as forget his hat or step in the water, and then people would give him more dull gray dots. In fact, he had so many gray dots that some people would come up and just give him one without any reason! "He deserves lots of dots," they would say. The wooden people would agree with one another. "He's not a good wooden person," they would say. After a while Punchinello believed them. "I am not a good Wemmick!" he would say. The few times he went outside, he hung around other Wemmicks who had a lot of gray dots. At least he felt better around them. One day, Punchinello met a Wemmick who was unlike any he'd ever met. She had no dull gray dots and did not have any shiny golden stars either. She was a wooden Wemmick and her name was "Lucia." It wasn't that people didn't try to give her stickers; it's just that the stickers didn't stick to her!!! Some admired Lucia for having no dots, so they would run up and give her a star. But it would fall off. Some would look down on her for having no stars, so they would give her a dot. But they would not stick either!!! "That's the way I want to be!" thought Punchinello. "I don't want anyone's marks!" So he asked the "stickerless" Wemmick how she did it. "It's easy," Lucia replied. "Every day I go see Eli." Punchinello asked,"Eli? Who is Eli?" She replied "Yes, Eli, He is the woodcarver. I sit in His workshop and spend time with Him." He asked Lucia,"Why do you do that?" Lucia told him, "Why don't you find out for yourself? Go up the hill and visit with Him. He's there!" And with that, the sweet little Wemmick named Lucia turned and skipped away. "But He won't want to see me!" Punchinello cried out to her. Lucia didn't hear him, as she was too far away.

So Punchinello went home. He sat near a window and watched the wooden people as they scurried around giving each other gold stars and gray dots. "It's just not right," he muttered to himself. Then he resolved to go see Eli after all. Punchinello walked up the narrow path to the top of the hill and stepped into the big Woodcarver Shop. His little wooden eyes widened at the size of everything. The stool was as tall as he was. He had to stretch on his tippy-toes to see the top of the workbench. A hammer was as long as his arm. Punchinello swallowed hard and thought to himself, "I'm not staying here!" and he turned to leave. Then he heard his name. "Punchinello?" said this voice, so deep and strong. Just then Punchinello stopped. The voice said, "Punchinello, oh how good it is of you to come! Let me have a look at you." Punchinello slowly turned around and looked at the large bearded craftsman and said, "Sir, you know my name?" "Of course I do. I made you," Eli said. All of a sudden, Eli stooped down and picked little Punchinello up and set him on the workbench. "Hmmmmm," the Maker spoke thoughtfully as he inspected the gray circles all over him, "Looks like you've been given some bad marks." Punchinello explained,"Oh, Eli, I didn't mean to; really I didn't!!! I really tried hard not to." The Maker said, "Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, my child. I don't care what the other Wemmicks think." Punchinello asked, "Really? You don't?" Then Eli said, "No and you shouldn't either. Who are they to give stars or dots? They are Wemmicks just like you. What they think really doesn't matter at all, Punchinello. All that matters is what I think. And I think you are pretty special." Punchinello laughed, "Oh, me special? How can I be special? I can't walk fast. I can't jump. My paint is peeling. I make silly mistakes all the time and I am not a beautiful Wemmick like some of the others. How could I matter to you?" Eli looked at Punchinello and put his hands on those little wooden shoulders of his and spoke very slowly, "Because Punchinello... you are mine. That's why you matter to me." Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this before or say anything so nice, much less his Maker! He didn't know what to say! "Punchinello, every day I've been waiting and hoping you would come to see me," Eli explained. Punchinello looked up at him and said, "I came because I met a sweet Wemmick girl who had no marks." Eli said, "I know. Lucia told me about you." So Punchinello asked, "Why don't the stickers stay on Lucia?" Eli said, "Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what anyone else thinks. The stickers only stick if you let them." Punchinello looked puzzled and said, "What?" Eli said, "Yes, the stickers only stick if they matter to you. The more you trust My love, the less you will care about those stickers." But Punchinello said, "I'm not sure I really understand. What you are saying?" The maker said, "You will, but it will take some time. You've got a lot of marks. So for now, just come to see me every day and let me remind you how much I care about you." Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on the floor. "Now remember," Eli said as the Wemmick walked out the door. "You ARE special because I made you, and I don't make mistakes."
By Max Lucado, You are Special

Punchinello didn't stop, but in his heart he thought, "I think He really means it." And each time he remembered what Eli told him and each time he went to visit and talk with Eli, one of Punchinello's dots would fall off. They kept falling off and soon they were all gone!!! So like Punchinello, we must remember one thing: "Man looks on the outward appearance, but God looks on the heart." (I Samuel 16:7) On Christmas Day, we honour God for giving His one and only Son for us... His precious gift unto us is everlasting, redeems our sins, and bridges the chasm bet. God and Man when we LEAST deserve it for He so loved the world! Surely... No other present you receive in this world can be better than this! Surely no love is greater than when you die a most painful death for someone who condemned, insulted, spitted, humiliated, hurt and tortured you. He died while we are still sinners and yet He was sinless. He carried the cross for you and I. Think of a person in your life you really couldn't stand and imagine yourself dying slowly and painfully for him/her. That pesky, selfish manager who always use me to do OT till 11pm and even weekends but all the credit belongs to him and I get nothing except tons of work to finish, that ger who always gossip behind my back, that nasty colleague who I can't seem to see eye to eye with and always game for confrontations.... etc. Can't do that, can you?

Only Your Maker knows your purpose and destiny on this earth we live in. Lucia's stickers don't stick becoz she cares more about what her Maker thinks about her than what others think about her. Punchinello has learnt his mistakes and begin renewing his relationship with his Maker who cares so much about him. We are unique in our own way becoz Our Maker does it so deliberately. The day you recognize this truth is the start of a covenantal relationship with Him. He's the reason for the Xmas season. He is YOUR Maker and truth is... He loves you very much... even more than Himself.

So ask yourself.... What will you present as a gift to your Maker this day?

Batman Begins: The Lesson

Watched "Batman Begins" DVD recently, the film spoke to me powerfully. I was skeptical at first coz of the previous "Batman" franchise movies which were kinda cheesy. Nevertheless, the plot and depth of the film impressed me deeply.

Bruce Wayne (Batman) was haunted by his inner demons (bats) when he fell into this old well which was smarming with flying bats when he was a small boy. Since then, he developed a phobia of bats. One day, his parents took him to the opera where Bruce became scared at some of the dancers' portrayal of bat-like demons. Bruce's past experience with bats jerked back into his memories and he begged his parents to go. In the dark alley where they exited, a mugger confronted them. Even thought the meek father (Thomas Wayne) complied with his demands of the robber, both he and his wife was shot fatally in the chest. "Don't be afraid" were Thomas Wayne last words to a young Bruce, who became an orphan that fateful night.

He was brought up by the family butler, Alfred who raises him up as his own. 14 years later, Bruce returned from Princeton Uni to attend a parole hearing of his parents' murderer. Unknown to others, He brought a pistol to court, in hope of killing the murderer. When Rachel (his childhood friend turned Assistant District Attorney for Gotham City) learnt this, she slapped and rebuked Bruce and explained the difference between vengeance and justice. A disillusioend Bruce then traded his expensive jacket for a vagrant's and gave him all his money, hopped on a cargo ship and travelled the world seeking the means to fight injustice and "turn fear against those who prey on the fearful". By becoming a criminal himself, he learnt what it means to survive on the streets and resorted to stealing. Eventually, he ended up in a Chinese prison. Upon his release, he travelled to the League of Shadows in the Himalayas where he was taught theatrics and deception as his greatest weapons. His teacher (who ironically later became Bruce's nemesis bent on destroying Gotham City) taught him, "To overcome fear, you must become your own fear." After learning his trade, Bruce returned to his home. "Never given up hope on me, haven't you?" Bruce asked Alfred twice in the film. Each time after he seemingly fail to live up to expectations of managing the Wayne Enterprise. Alfred replied simply, "Never". At the end of the day, Batman saves the day and becomes the fear of criminals in Gotham City. But it was the faithfulness of Batman's ever reliable and faithful servant, Alfred that touched my heart. The one who believed in him when no one else did.

"Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me" (Revelation 3:20). Every person has the right to say to God, "Leave me alone. Don't bother me." At some time or another, we've rejected Him. I know I have. A "Do Not Disturb" sign on our doors. But it is the Lord's right to pursue us with His persistent mercy. By His grace, He keeps knocking, ready to fill our lives with His love. He doesn't know the meaning of 'give up'. I thank Him coz he's NEVER given up hope for me... and for you too, my friend.

A song kept ringing in my ears this morning on my way to work. I don't know why... that's why I think I need to write this down.
"~Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see. All I have needed Thy hand hath provided; Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me~"

God is faithful in sustaining us through suffering. One of the times we are most tempted to doubt God’s faithfulness is when suffering strikes our lives. It often makes no sense to us and we see no reason for it. We may search our lives, and although we find some sins which we have previously overlooked, we still cannot believe we deserve what God has allowed to happen to us. We begin to think that He has forgotten us or really does not care about us.

The people of Jerusalem in Isaiah’s day were beginning to think that way. Israel was a tiny nation surrounded by giant powers which were continually menacing her. Listen to her complaint:

But Zion said, “The LORD has forsaken me, And the Lord has forgotten me” (Isaiah 49:14).
But the Lord was right there with words of encouragement.

Can a woman forget her nursing child, And have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me (verses 15-16).

He had allowed them to suffer, but He could never forget them in their suffering because He is faithful. And He does not forget us. He really does care.

Many other promises in the Word are absolute and unconditional. God is going to keep them whether we believe He will or not. He will fulfill His Word whether we are faithful to Him or not. The Apostle Paul said, “If we are faithless, He remains faithful; for He cannot deny Himself” (2 Timothy 2:13). To be faithless may also mean to be unbelieving. When God’s promises are unconditional, neither our faithlessness nor our unbelief will affect His faithfulness. They will rob us of our peace, our joy, and our testimony, but He will just keep right on doing what He promised to do, keep right on being faithful to His Word. What a wonderfully faithful God! Believe Him. Experience the peace, the joy, and the power which faith in His Word will bring. Then you too will exclaim enthusiastically, “Great is Thy faithfulness!”

Of the New Year and a Pair of Soggy, Muddy Shoes

It was the 1st day of Year 2006! Woke up early in the morning for a much anticipated walk in MacRitchie and Bukit Timah Nature Reserve. Already, heavenly signs were showing it wasn't exactly the "perfect" day for trekking in the woods (worse for amateurs like us). A slight drizzle welcomed us as we embarked on the 15km or so expedition to conquer the Tree-Top Walk and Bukit Timah Summit. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one, small step. Indeed, I believe we were all caught offguard what obstacles lurks ahead of the 'fellowship' (L.O.T.R has always been a cult fav for me).
What a challenging way to kickstart into the New Year! Ok, so we cheated abit by taking a shortcut from Thomson Ridge... blah. The tropical rainforest was damp and the soggy mud greeted us the moment we took the well-trodden rocky path to the innards of the forest. The flora and fauna were rich and thick. Fallen logs are seen just off the trekkers' path. The spirits of the team were high and we were busily engaged in deep conversations about each others' lives which we barely touched on normally. We took a slingshot across SICC but shortly after, plunged into the woods again. Enjoyed a refreshing toilet break at the Rangers' Station where we could see many other trekkers like us. Then, armed with our umbrellas (quite a queer sight for forest trekkers don't u think?) we continued our 'quest' for the Tree-Top Walk. It was a boardwalk that snaked itself to the "entrance". The wooden planks were wet and slippery... it was a fantastic sight (above 8-10 storeys I estimate; I wished I could say it was worth the hassle... but... it wasn't a "WOW" but more of a "Oh, so this is it uh" kinda feeling) The morning mist sifted through the trees in a distance (reminds me of the 'Misty Mountains in L.O.T.R) and the watery body of MacRichie Reservoir was captured in the horizon to our right. We also took a climb to the 5-story high Jelutong Tower... it was already pouring by then. At the top, it was unsheltered and we were standing right next to the lightning rod... gosh... we could've been barbecued instantly right there and then by a single bolt from the heavens. We got uneasy and decided not to test God wrath in that instant. Held a mini-discussion and decided to go ahead to our mid-point destination of Bukit Timah Food Centre for lunch, despite the heavy downpour. 1.5hrs elapsed and we finally got out of the woods and started walking on gravel road leading out to our rest point. Except for a few cars that drove by us and a family of monkeys atop a tree, the isolated road was primarily deserted.
Had an array of dishes for lunch, we were famished! After the heavy lunch, we began the journey to conquer Bukit Timah Summit. We took the shortest route upwards, the 45-degree slope leaves us gsaping for breath. The summit this time was even less exhilarating than the previous one at MacRitchie. The thick canopy of foliage blocked every possbile attempt to have a view from the top. How disappointing... lucky for us we didn't take the longer routes up, otherwise it would have been even more exasperating.
We then make our way back to MacRitchie where we 1st started. As it was already 4pm, not wanting to be caught in the woods in the dark, we quickened our pace without a respite. The same snaking gravel road back... this time, we met several joggers, cyclist and a bunch of trekkers at the forest crevice. The smouldering heat and blinding rays were a discomfort as we had to wrestled with our fatigue and weary feet. Personally, I find Iy's mental tenacity admirable. Blisters formed at the back of the soles of my feet. Water-proof BandAid proved futile in easing the pain as they keep slipping off. I struggled a bit with each step. Suddenly, as Os remarked, "Seems like someone just turned on the tap." The imminent dark clouds that hang overhead let loose its floodgates. "My God, how worse can this trek get?" I thought to myself. The huge droplets of water plummeted us huddles beneath our brollies. Except for Jo who had a bigger brolly, we were soaked despite our futile attempts to keep dry. On our way to seek refuge at the Rangers' Station, we trodded past a rest stop which a number of trekkers took shelter.
After a brief respite at Rangers' Station, Os, our guide, wanted us off the slippery, rocky trrekkers' path in the woods and lead us to a shortcut to SICC. We observed many without umbrellas and ponchos walking, frolicking openly in the rain. I was reminded of the time I took my IPPT at Maju Camp where I ran the 2.4km in the rain. It was a great experience! Little rivulets of water formed on the road and gushed thorugh the drains and canals. After 45 mins or so of walking, it was civilisation again! Whew... what a way to enter 2006!
An unforgettable trip... I took with me memories of the jungle, the all-too-familiar smell of sweat soaked shirt sticking to your skin, mosquito-ravaged hands and feet and lastly... a pair of soggy, muddy tracks shoes.