Syndy + Thankfuls + Odd stuff

I can't remember if I mentioned here that the new keyboard was going to be named Syndy.
Anyway that's what I decided on some time back. And she's coming soon.

Thankful 73. Someone is going to bank in whatever amount it takes to purchase Syndy.

I'm excited.

Now to finally decide on which one.

And, I'm in love with the Roland GW-8.

Can't seem to spin my head around any other models.

Thankful 74. Been a quiet on call weekend.

Thankful 75. Funny how things turn out when you plan a plan and God planned things better.

Been catching a bit of Glee.

Their slow version of the Beatles's 'I wanna hold your hand' was an emo moment.

I'm jamming at a wedding this coming Sat.

Can't wait for the crazy buzz that accompany us whenever we jam somewhere else's.

As much as I whine about how outrageous the adventures we end up having.

A warm glow came across inside, at the mere mention of jamming in Serdang.

Maybe it had to do with how the message was conveyed, like naturally, I would be in the foursome to go. 

Hahahaha!

If only we could....

Sound of Music

Watched the full 3 hours version on tv2 over the weekend.
It was awesome to revisit this old childhood favourite.
It stayed a favourite for many years because they recorded it onto a videotape for me when I was a wee kid.

I remembered every song and almost every words in them.
And it brings back memories of those days when I was trying to get every single lyric right by hearing over and over again. There was even a yodelling moment at school because of this movie.

It was enlightening, watching now as a grown up.
I enjoyed the beautiful lush sceneries, the detailed orchestration of the songs, the facial expressions, laughed at the 'reverse physchology' used and understood the underlying tones in the adult conversations. Things I missed out as a kid.
The only bummer was when they cut short the scene where Maria and the Capten finally kissed.
One measly kissing scene, and they censored it!

In a way, I enjoyed it differently.
As a kid it was all about the bubbly music and the singing.
As an adult, its a recollection of the past, yet adding so much more on to that.

National ET Awareness Month

 A single voice is seldom heard,

but a thousand voices shake the world.






National ET Awareness Month

 


In December 2010, Congress passed a House resolution that officially designates March as "National Essential Tremor Awareness Month." Read about it here.


This is the first year the awareness is being promoted, and I wanted to be a part of it.
Even though it's more for the US than anywhere else.
Also, it coincides with me, finally finally finally finding the confidence to declare,

I have ET.

The thing about a diagnosis is, it defines you fo a while.
It's like the knowledge of good and evil weighing down a person.

It distracts you from the promises of God or how He has shaped us.
There's also the funny thing about having it mildly and you can choose not to take your medications for them. Hence, everything just the same as before. No one knows unless they spend a great amount of time with you or you choose to talk about it. Heck, even my dad forgets once in a while. Ignorance is bliss at times.

The hardest moments have been those where;
only chopsticks were involved,
scooping soup was involved,
capturing blurry pictures instead of the way I'm seeing pretty things,
And most of all, hitting all the wrong notes during worship because clumsiness is a packaged deal with ET.

Truthfully, it probably took me so many many months because I couldn't bring myself to surrendering it to God. It seemed so unreal and contradictory to what my hands were playing for Him. Or I'd surrender and have a really bad day, and automatically have some self-pity session....Then surrender again sometime later and face another situation and the cycle continues....

In the many many months that it took to accept ET, I got a lot of comfort reading the following post from the discussion forum in WEMOVE.org. I had it bookmark at the top of my Firefox browser that I only use for
work stuff. Sometimes it made me cry, sometimes a lump in my throat and other times it made me pray.


“Enough”


This morning I lay in bed, trying to get up the courage to get up. I was feeling sorry for myself and began to think of all the things I had lost and the every day activities that are now so difficult, if not impossible, to do. I dreaded finding clothes for today, I could tell my arms would be too weak to pull up the loosest of pants and my fingers too shaky to button or zip. I thought about how I used to sew, knit and design clothing, things I now struggle to teach my children. I began to remember me, as I used to be.


I used to be an artist, drawing, painting, creating, now I have to try to find the words to tell others how to do the simplest of crafts. I was the “Craft Lady”; I loved showing others how to make something beautiful. Now I may be able to prepare but must rely on others to teach and help with the projects. The tremor has taken my talent.


I used to be proud of my handwriting; forming letters was a joy and an expression of beauty. Now neither the paper nor the pen will hold still and the words are barely legible, and writing a check or signing the receipt in a store is embarrassing. The tremor has taken both my words and my pride.


I used to be a long distance runner. I loved to hike and explore. I dreamed of the day we could go exploring as a family. Now I think about each step, telling my left leg to pick up and put down, pick up, put down, making even the briefest of walks mentally and physically exhausting. The tremor has taken my mobility and sense of adventure.


I used to make music, playing the piano and organ for church, and singing for the Lord. Now my hands hit all the wrong notes and singing causes such violent tremors my muscles cramp and I am in agony. The tremor has taken my song.


I used to be able to lift 90-pound bales of hay, work beside my husband and pull a kid, the goat kind. Now carrying a water glass or lifting a shovel full of dirt is a struggle. The tremor has taken my strength.


I used to be a teacher and I enjoyed talking with friends for hours (and we had the phone bills to prove it). Now I shake so violently that carrying on the simplest conversation is difficult, just holding still requires all my concentration so the words don‘t come, and my daughter must hold the phone for me. The tremor has taken my voice.


I used to be self-sufficient, independent, and opinionated (ok, I am still opinionated). I could drive a semi-truck, carry my own plate and go where I pleased, when I wanted, and hit a target dead on. Now I drive only on good days, others fetch what they think I would like to eat, and would you want to go target shooting with me? The tremor has robbed my independence.


And in that moment, as I lay there feeling discouraged and alone, I cried out, “Father, What do I have left?”


Softly came the answer, “My child, You have Me.


My strength is made perfect in your weakness.
My song is made new every morning, listen to it in the voices of your children.
My words are eternal and yours.
My grace IS sufficient for even your darkest days.
My love surrounds you, feel it in the love of your family.
You have Me.”


Then my heart cried out, “Abba, YOU are enough.”




Cheryl Eggers
Nemo, SD


July 2010



Now all that's left is to tell someone on the team.

Because I've come to accept that it isn't my hands that makes me have worth to Him.
But to have worth because He has deemed me worthy when He lay down His life for me.

An eulogy of sort

Was at my first GROWBM funeral today.

Been at a loss of words to the family.
The thing is, I don't have many memories of him before he had stroke.
I didn't even remember he was in the same bunch, baptised in water the same day that I was, til I was digging for some photos.

There's only one memory in my head.
Of him walking in with his whole brood for worship fellowship years ago.
And I went 'Wow! A whole family of musicians/singers!' in my head at that time, hence it stuck on my mind. Because back then I was fearfully in awe there was such a big family involved in worship.
I thought the kids were all prodigies. Lol.
And now that he's gone, looking back at that moment, I now see the slightly larger picture.
I understand now that as the head of a family, he was bringing his family as a unit, as a whole, into God's house although it was probably just his wife on the team or not at all.
It didn't matter that at that time the children were still young.
Because it stuck on.
Even while he was in a wheelchair this last few years or so, they were serving God one way or another in church.
They were growing up in the church.
And you know what, heck, there is a musical prodigy in that brood after all.
The young keyboardist that awe inspire me when she beats the heck out of drums is his daughter, Rachel.
She's a true example that you don't have to be classically trained to serve God when your heart is in the right place.

And if one glimpse of his life had stuck in my head, how much more for those that were around all those years. For those that knew him.

I see the tears and I'm at a loss of words.
Because I know that the heartache isn't going to go away so soon.
Because I know that life goes on spinning around and you have no choice but to move on lugging that heartache everywhere.
But I also know the only thing that can make that heartache fade away, is TIME.
The funny thing about our heart is when it aches, the ache last for the longest time, but once its gone, it's really difficult to reenact. In it's place, there's sadness. In it's place there's bittersweet sorrow.
I also know that the memories and the legacy he left behind is alive in his family.
It's weird, but I somehow see it that he left just as the children has grown up enough to develop godly characters, unique personalities. As a kid your personality and character development wavers depending on who you're spending time with. But as teenagers, some are more or less concrete than others. And this has been developing this last few years.
And because God in His ultimate plan is still in control of all this, I know they are going to be alright.

R.I.P. Uncle.

There was a dilemma in doing the roster this morning.
Some say give the family a break and take them off the roster for awhile.
Because we aren't sure if they'd be up to it, after a passing away like this.
Others say it's okay. And I assume it's because their lives have always been about serving, giving them a break would be awkward rather than a comfort. Or, trying to give them a normalcy where there isn't anymore.
Either way, it was a tough decision to make.


70. Am thankful that despite the sadness, I manage to put it aside and worship God this morning.
71. I was comforted to have both slave driver and benana for company throughout the wake and funeral.
It's times like this you know who you can count on.
Despite that it's been years since I feel like he's slave driving us, I can't seem to find a better nickname to replace slave driver. Lol. Or maybe now this should be referred to the way he drives up to 80km per hour just to beat a traffic light. Poor Willy.
The lame jokes benana was splitting in the ride was just outrageously funny. Despite the ride being to the crematorium and back to church thereafter.
72. I've turned 12. And am still myself.

The King's Speech Watched!

The King's Speech was,

Brilliant. Sad. Hilarious.

It's a story of an underdog becoming a winner on his own terms.
It's a story of a man traumatized and harshly molded from a young age (hence the stammer), who finds himself suddenly taking on the throne he wasn't molded for and lack the self-confidence to do so.
And the friendship that turned it all around. A friendship that withstood the invisible barriers between royalty and commoners.

It was splendid just to be able to take a half day off like today, to unwind and shut down for a few hours in the middle of a hectic week.
Watching a movie I really wanted to watch.
Eating Nandos, which has been quite a while.
Browsing in MPH for hours.
Writing, words that burst forth like a dam broken.
And contemplating what it means to be 12 this year.


Thankful list of the day.
66. Precious time for myself.
67. Good food.
68. Reassurance that this life is in His hands. And no one else's.
69. Having a manage-able week.