19:50.

I wonder.

Yesterday, I was going through the stack of photo albums piled in rather undignified fashion on the top of my open concept black metal and birch shelves Ikea bookshelf (Yup, my room is quite decked with Ikea furnishings). Armed with a wet cloth, I climbed onto a stool and attacked the dust that had gathered before taking all those booklets and A4 sized albums down.

While I waited for you to come online, I sat on my white tiled floor and looked through those albums, placing them into little piles, roughly categorised Secondary Sch; Qi, Yiling, Shuhui and me; Poly and Bintan, both times; then the window of time after poly and before Melb, the period where I was adult, journalist and living the dream, in very real ways, no, I have not forgotten. Then there was that other window of in-between-ness... photos I didn't really know which pile to put in - that year when I took my Os as a private candidate, when I went to Sydney as a church delegate.

There were times when the face that was mine looked like someone I do not know.

Times when I cringed and silently went "gosh". Yes, there you go, I admit that. Hah.

Then, there were times when I could remember the moment when I took that particular picture, the smile, and the accompanying emotion that prompted that smile.

In Mayflower's (my Sec school) beige uniform, taking last day photographs with teachers and friends. The loosened counciler's tie, the shirt tucked loose instead of tightly, figure-skimmingly in like certain cliques wore theirs, the Hush Puppies socks (lol), before braces teeth (*cringes*), the short bob, and darn was I skinny or what....

The boy band photos (*laughs*), Mark Owen press conference, photos with Stephen Gately and Shane something and all that. Me gosh.

There were years when I looked good, and years when I was frightful, though my Mom is adamant that I was not. And I am still rather impressed with how skinny I was.

-----------------------------------------------------------

But I am perhaps taking a really long time to get around to a chief thought.

See, as pictorial memories flipped before my eyes and I remember the years that have gone before, one chief idea, impression, thought that first came to me was this - The happiest times in my life were the times when I could focus completely on God.

The Sydney trip, when I first experienced holy laughter and being used to minister to people, not to mention camaraderie so extraordinary, and a lifestyle with God so in the smack of it all, that I was so... well, happy. Very innocent and very happy. As every photo taken then of that skinny girl - short bob, hair kept neat by wraparound shades on head, berry coloured lipstick on, in fitted black and white Nike windbreaker - testified.

The mission trip to KL and Ipoh with Campus Crusade. Cold showers, shared toilets, sore throat for the better half, witnessing at TARC, their canteens and hostels, taking photos on the LRT, trying to be ahem, strong and insisting I can take my packed-to-the-brim Adidas bag myself on one shoulder and half dying on the (it felt) long walk to the bus deport. Oh, memories, memories, memories.

Sharing my testimony during a combined poly crusade meeting, witnessing to a monk and a lady in a wheelchair at the night mkt, prata downstairs from the service apartment where we stayed, the Methodist church we attended, going gate to gate in a neighbourhood in Ipoh, singing Jesus Loves Me to a little girl, happy that she attended the evangelistic meet we put up at the local church who hosted us.

Oh, memories, memories, memories.

Praying the sinners prayer with people. Going through discipleship booklet. Writing notes of encouragement to team members and receiving them. Gosh. Buying a pomelo at a night mkt near the only Ipoh shopping centre in the district.

Memories, memories, oh memories.

And now... this.

Melbourne.

O C F.

City Church.

Such passion, such unbridled passion and freedom and worship.

Oh, such fellowship. Prayer meetings and worship at home. Such fellow runners in the race. Such loved sisters and brothers.

Feb 10 2004 to Feb 5 2005.

Where again, my life was changed.

The sense of free joy, unbridled happiness and freedom is so real even in recollection. So sweet and good.

And gosh, so real. More real than so many other things.

------------------------------

After I had that thought and sat in wonder at that thought, aware at the back of my mind that it was not a wholly new thought, I wondered.

I'm 23 going on 24. When I was 10, I accepted Christ and gave my word to give my 100 percent for this God who loves me so much He died for me to make me new. When I was 17, that year studying at home gave me much time to seek God. It was also the year I went to Sydney, and - I can't be totally sure of the year here - Joshua 21 and I gave God "a blank check" for my life. When I was 23, and left for Melb, I left knowing that "missionary" means "sent one" and I was sent to Melb.

I didn't know that God would so utterly blow my mind in Melb.

And I didn't know that now, seven years after that blank check, I would sit here at midnight and wonder the same thought I had for two days and ponder if it is true those three episodes were really times when I was most free and happy.

And does that point to what I should do with the rest of my life.

Oh, big question. Such big questions.

-----------------------------------------

Then I thought calmly and rationally. I know for a fact that there were countless times in my life when I was genuinely happy, at peace, loving it. And there were other phases in my life that I remember as beautiful too.

Can I be justified in seeing the three mentioned episodes as those that stood out?

-----------------------------------------

I can imagine myself very happy, at peace and fulfilled doing something that seems a lot more clearly with God smack in the middle of it.

It's not that You are not right now, You know that.

But You also know what I mean and can't aptly put into words.

------------------------------------------

Is it true that I was happiest then, Lord?

Oh, I don't mean to even suggest that I won't be as happy again. That is untrue and I know it :)

The best years have not passed, they are coming.

----------------------------------------------------

Me, I am just wondering.