It is Well, with My Soul

I just feel I need to write something since my last post was in April. I am convinced there aren’t many who’s going to read this post anyway but writing is part of my winding down process. I write in my journal for things that are private, or at least until I have the boldness of sharing it to public.

Life has been pretty hectic. It feels like I hadn’t stopped since last Christmas. I love it, partly for the reason that by keeping myself busy, I won’t have time for idle thoughts where I would normally start pondering over non-sensical stuff or over worrying or self-pity. By keeping busy, I am keeping those toxic thoughts at bay (or I’d write them down in my journal just to let it out). Keeping busy also makes me feel I have a use, and that I’m not wasting away the talent God gave me.

Last few months have been particularly challenging. I’m homesick. I haven’t visited my home country since I moved to the UK, one of the worst case scenario I’ve calculated when I made my decision to move (though there are times I deeply regretted it – but the decision cannot be reversed, unfortunately). I miss my Mum and my siblings. I feel gutted that I missed several important occasions (Dad’s funeral, brother’s wedding, my nephew was born). It is just financially unfeasible to visit Indonesia.

I am, perhaps, a little too kind being a self employed. I just don’t have the heart to charge a little extra or to increase prices. I don’t even charge on cancellation. Perhaps I should, but I don’t think it’s right to charge a student who’s taken ill on the day their lesson is scheduled. They couldn’t have foreseen it. I feel a little mean if I have to charge on cancellation. I’d rather my relation with my clients to be built on mutual trust and understanding. But I don’t know, perhaps I’ll always be the person my parents always warned me off; a little too kind and sometimes easy to take advantage of without me realising it.

Or maybe I should learn to be a little commercial?

I don’t know. Money never been the first on my priorities. I mean, I need them of course, but it doesn’t drive me. I grew up in a family where money were always tight and we’d always pray for God provision. He does what he promises, he provides my needs (not what I wanted – there’s a difference between wants and needs). There’s always food and roof over my head and clothes to wear. And money can’t buy things like health or peacefulness or good night sleep, which I’m lack of since November.

Jonathan has been having period of seizure in his sleep. The specialist we visited confirmed it’s a type of childhood epilepsy which we hope will be confirmed on the EEG scan. For six weeks I shared bed with my two kids and they got to be the most restless sleepers. I was kicked, butted, pushed and scratched from any direction. We only just moved them back into their room last week and for few days, Elizabeth decided that between 11PM to 3AM is a good timing to play getting in and out the bed. Whenever I’m about to fall asleep early morning, Jonathan had one of his turn as his brain is changing stage to a lighter sleep, resulting me in jumping out the bed, hurried to his room to make sure he’s in the correct position and that he comes around properly. And guess who moaned the first in the morning about disturbed sleep? The husband!!!

It’s extremely worrying to witness the fits at first but after awhile, it feels like ‘expected’. I mean, we have good nights and bad nights, but I wish the ratio of the good nights is much bigger. I feel so sorry for my little chap. He’s been through a lot yet he’s never complaining. He’s well behaved and kind hearted too (except when Elizabeth doesn’t wait until he finishes talking).

There’s much more to worry about and being a Phlegmatic, I’m naturally a worrier and would prefer to bury my head in the sand but I’ve trained myself (the hard way) to calm down and carry on. Everyone has their own cross to bear and I’m not sure if I’d be strong enough to bear other’s burden. I can say that I’m good. Things that happened in my life so far haven’t taken me completely (with God’s help). Yes, I’m tired, physically exhausted, and if I’m not careful, I can easily slip into frustation but I won’t let it happen easily.

So, here I am, ready to face whatever 2018 will bring. I can confidently say ‘It is well with my soul’.

A New Beginning

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I’m back! No, I haven’t been on holiday, I wish I was. I was ‘away’ from any form of Social Media contact for more than 40 days. It was hard to begin with, out of habit my hand would constantly pick up the phone to launch any social media app (which of course I’ve uninstalled before because I knew this would happen). After a week or so, I stopped noticing I hadn’t check my social media accounts in the day. And now, the lent is over, I found myself I hadn’t missed them that much that I would reinstall the app right away. 
I have a good 44 days to reflect on many things. One big thing is that I feel different since I’m off Social Media. I strangely feel a sense of freedom, as if I’ve been released from enslavement. I realise how it might sound to you; it is crazy to think social media as a form of enslavement but bear with me for a moment as I expand my thought. As good as the original idea of connecting people online, social media has become the greatest distraction of life. The endless stream of notification for example. It makes one learns to constantly switch from one task to another, gone are days where we have longer focus span. Then there’s constant posts from ‘friends’, which of course there’s nothing wrong with announcing a good news or sharing lovely photos. But for some, it is easy to get into the trap to think that others’ life looks perfect. There’s also online bullying, coward people who hide behind their keyboard whom intention is to prey, to hurt, even to harm others. Not to mention the constant post of ‘selfie’, excessive love to oneself. I’m not talking about photos of holiday or events shared with family and friends, I’m talking of those photos taken in front of a mirror, different face expression, mostly duck face. I mean, come on, I think one profile picture should be enough, and the cover photo. And one last thing I notice on Social Media is the excessive use of filters!!! Nothing and nobody seems to be authentic anymore.
Living life on Social Media has become a world on its own and I am no longer wanting to be part of it. I decide I’m taking back control of what I see and what goes into my mind, with God’s help. In practice, I haven’t reinstalled any social media app to minimise temptation  but whenever I want to check, I can always login through browser. Meanwhile, I’ll definitely keep myself busy, try not to give myself a moment of idleness because the devil will snap the opportunity quickly. I found myself few small projects in the past months that kept me busy and I have a few going on at the moment.
So here I am on Easter day and I’ve had good thinking of the life, my life, that has been redeemed by Jesus and I am forever grateful to Him. A new beginning of my life is starting this Easter. The more I think of his sacrifice on the cross, the more I appreciate life and every single opportunities it offer. My life would be so meaningless without Jesus. I exalt Him as my Lord and my Saviour so it’d make sense if I live my life for a purpose, His purpose. I know it sounds strange, especially in the self-centred world where everyone wants to put their right first, a concept of being lord over is just strange. Even some Christians would admit they believe in Jesus but to give him a full control of their life? Hang on there a minute God! You ain’t have right over my life. It certainly true with me, there are certain areas in my life I always play tug of war with God, it just doesn’t make sense to give Him the credit, my vanity won’t allow it. I’m still learning, no matter how hard it is, to let God being the Master in my life. My life has been redemeed at a cost so I’m no longer living it for my own, I’m living it for Jesus.

Favourite Take Away

Day 19 – February creative challenge. It’ll be a short one. Favourite take away is

I’m a big fan of noodle; thin, flat or slightly fatter noodle, I love them all. You can stir fried them with all sorts of other ingredients. You can make them a veggie stir fry or a meatie one. You can have it sweet (just put a lot of sweet soy sauce in it) or a spicy one (put on a lot of fresh chilli or chilli sauce). Noodle is part of my childhood memory, my Mum would cook me my favourite noodle on my birthday. 

Picture isn’t mine by the way but doesn’t it look gorgeous?

This is My December

Oh the joy of finally having a chance to write!! Not that I’m a writer but writing is something I really enjoy doing. The topic seems to be very mainstream but December is the month where I usually experience a roller coaster of emotions. If any of you realised the title ‘This is My December’ is a song by Linkin Park which lyrics then says ‘…this is my time of the year’. On the contrary, I don’t favour December at all.

My Uni assignments usually have deadline on the first or second week of December and this year the level of stress was the highest. With the recent change of schedule and routines (J started shool), I found myself way behind my course. Uni level 3 modules aren’t jokes, they are hard! I only slept 4 hours at night chasing the deadline (this lasted for two weeks!)

If my head was to be opened up, one would see buzzing electro statics as the wires intertwine. One minute I was stressed out by assignments, the next minute I was thinking about starting organising Christmas then the minute after I was panicking about what to do with the kids birthday this year? E’s birthday in Dec and J’s birthday in first week of Jan and there’s Christmas in between.

In the midst of all those buzzing thoughts and planning, whenever I had a moment of quiet, the thought of my Dad took over. I couldn’t believe he had gone. I didn’t attend the funeral (was 35 weeks pregnant and wouldn’t be allowee to fly 30+ hours)  and hadn’t managed yet to visit my home country (it’s been six years now), so it’s still hard for me to think he’s no more. In my mind he is still alive, only live in a different country. That’s what I usually tell myself and believing January to November then comes December tells me to face the hard truth.

I would never let myself carried away by the thought of my Dad though. Not that I don’t want to think of him, I found it easier if I keep myself busy and hoping I won’t realise December had gone by the time I ‘look up’ from my busy life.

I handed in my assignments in time but results weren’t as good as I wanted. I’m gutted, felt low for few days but I bounced back pretty quick. I will be using the two weeks Uni break to make headstart for the next ones. The anniversary date of my Dad passing away had gone too so I’m not feeling so gloomy anymore. I’ve wrapped presents and posted cards, all done last week. And the children’s birthday is sorted. We didn’t do party but we took them out instead as a treat. We went to Winter Wonderland today (and undoubtedly the most expensive day out I’ve ever did but as we didn’t do parties, the money instead used for the day out).

And now I find myself only 9 days away from 2017, which I’m pleased about. I just want December is done and over with. I’ll still have the actual Christmas weekend to go through which I’m about managing (really miss Christmas with my Mum). I’m glad I’m still working over the holiday (keep my mind occupied). I’m looking forward to 2017, it’ll be another busy year and at least the next Dec will be far away. So for now, the Wright family wish you a good Christmas

Where My Heart Is


Ever since I was little, I always loved wondering around the woods or field. I always curious about paths, there’s something inviting about them. I’d just set my foot on it then off I go exploring. I love the thrill of where the path is taking me. I always imagined that it would take me to a door to another world; a magical  world. I never worried about getting lost, my parent did! But they got used to Merlyn-is-lost-again in the end. I always found my way home, unharmed. I just can’t resist the signpost ‘public footpath’ and if there isn’t any, I often ended up making my own. 

I love hills. I remember when I was little, the feeling of getting closer to the top. The feeling of an achiever when I finally got to the top and the rewards are never disappointing; the view of a valley down below as far as your eyes can see. The process of getting to the top does need perseverance and strong will and when I get to the top, I can always look back, proud of what I’ve achieved and how far I’ve came. 

I love mountain tops. They give me a sense of challenge; that nothing is unachieveable. They are further away than they often look but that’s where the challenge is. How much do you really want something and how much are you prepared to give to get it? Mountains are majestic and I love exploring them, being ‘in’ them. 

I love valleys and moors. They’re like beautiful carpets covering the earth. The place where you can lay down and look up to the sky. They’re comforting. They’re inspiring. They make the sky feels like a roof over your head. They remind you of nothingness of human being. They put you in your place. They humble you. 

I love brooks and river. They are sweet and quenching. They free you and flow you. The sounds of the waters between the stones so melodious, you want to sing with them. The feel of nature on your skin is so refreshing. They make you at peace with yourself. 

And most of all, exploring hills and mountains and moors and valleys is the closest I feel with my Maker. In those places you can’t say they’re placed there randomly by a big bang. They’re designed and placed carefully by the greatest engineer, God, the Maker of earth and heaven. 

‘O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder, Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made; I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder, Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

When through the woods, and forest glades I wander, And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.

And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing; Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in; That on a Cross, my burdens gladly bearing, He bled and died to take away my sin.

When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation, And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.Then I shall bow, in humble adoration, And then proclaim: “My God, how great Thou art!”

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee, How great Thou art, How great Thou art.Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee, How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

Life in the UK

I feel like writing. I am not a good writer but I like writing. It helps me clear my mind and get things out of my system. I keep journals, handwritten, I love it. I love the feeling of reading my old journals, some of the things happened I already forgot.

I want to write about my life in the UK since I moved here in June 2010. How quick has the time passed and how much have I learned.

The weather! I came from a tropical country, where the equator line passes through. The season was only two; hot or rainy. The weather was pretty predictable; six months dry and six month wet. I moved to England and what a shock! The weather is so moody here. The seasons come whenever they feel like it. Sometimes I feel we have four seasons in a day.

The culture and way of living! I came from a country where living together outside marriage and same sex marriage would be a big NO. The society is so severe on those who even dare to think to practice them. I moved to England and I had to adjust to the more liberal way of living. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t judge and I like it better here where people mostly minding their own business but it did take time to adjust. Queuing is another big difference. Where I came from people don’t queue voluntarily. They flocked then started pushing their way forward to be served; older folks would never stand a chance of being served even if they were there earlier.

The FOOD! When I first came to England I remember I must always have a bottle of hot Tobasco with me. I love my spicy foods. Gradually I started to accept plainer food. I get to know food from different countries. I was surprised that one time I found myself couldn’t take food as spicy as I used to back home. I love my fish and chips especially when you get to taste one on the northern parts of the country. There’s an Indonesian restaurant in China Town I normally visit when I’m homesick.

I think those things above are the major difference that take awhile to adjust but there are other things too. One important thing that I learned a great deal of independence. I’ve always been very independent but living in England has really challenged that part of me. I found it tiring to have always standing on my own and fight my ground. My husband unfortunately did not help me to integrate to his country’s culture. I had to self-thaught myself and observed a lot so I can integrate. Finding employment is particularly challenging, especially for the first few years when my immigration status only on spouse visa. It gets easier after few years and I get used to write a personal statement at last.

Things are dealt more organised and methodically here in England than back home. Sometimes it can be too organised that people follow the book more than their common sense but my nature prefer good organisation.

I found out that I love TV dramas especially setting is around/before WW2 time. I don’t know why I love them but I suppose I love the way people lived their life then; without the distraction of technology in the form of gadgets, people were better connected and life was paced slower.

Free school up to age 18 and free health service, certainly not a priviledge where I came from. I can’t understand why would some people here fussing about school and health service. They want to experience live in a country like mine where you have to pay for every single thing. Most parents get themselves into debt for their children education (Under the age of 18). And routine health check? If you’re middle class to poor forget about it. You’d know when you have a terminal illness, when you’re dying. Most illness are treatable but without money you’d just wait for the day you die.

I have also learnt to be an opportunist. Any potential works that I came accross I had to catch them, at least to give them a try before I say ‘It’s not for me’.

I learnt to trusting in God more and to seek his comfort especially when I think of ‘when will I see my mother again’. It isn’t as easy as you think to take break and get on the plane. The plane ticket for one adult could be up £1500.00 per adult and only a little less for children. I at least praise God that my mother is a believer in the Lord Jesus, that her comfort is that if we never see each other again on earth then we’ll catch up in heaven.

6th anniversary of coming-to-the UK is coming up in June. I shall always remember the day I landed and talked to myself ‘I’ll be ok here’. It’s only recently it came to me that I must have had a great courage back then to uproot myself to a foreign country. And when I think of my Mum, she must have had even a greater courage to let me go.

Death and Hope

I have something in mind to share, not only because the Good Friday and the Easter but one of those things in life that make (if not force) one to pause and think. 

A few weeks ago, in the midst of normal busy morning in our house, a thought of my late Dad came to my mind. Four years has passed since his death but I still cannot believe it that he had gone. I assumed it is because I did not get to see him for the last time. The circumstances sadly did not permit me at that time, with only a couple of weeks away from my due date, no one would allow me jump on the plane for 30 hours journey. It felt like it was only yesterday he walked me down the aisle. His memory would always alive and I was sad that I did not get to grief properly and to share it with my family. 
And then I went on thinking about death itself. I confronted myself with the word, with the thought. I knew few people who passed away since my Dad did. One I got to the funeral but the others were I heard only the news. Death, it comes to any age. My dad was not old, he had his first grandson to look forward to. Denise, my in-laws’ cousin passed away at a considerably good age. A close friend to my husband, Dave, he was far from old! I thought Dave’s death was heartbreaking but that was before I heard the news of someone I knew from school passed away while his wife is expecting their first child. And then another school friend not long after, and they both only in their 30s! Recently I had another news, my uncle’s wife passed away after being in accident twice and been unconscious for few months. 

Death will finally get all of us. Our days are numbered! Well, that’s what my Bible tells me and I believe it. Men’s life are nothing. Nothing at all in our position or possesion could buy us from it. Nothing! Not a single penny that I have will come down to my grave with me. Naked I came out from my mother’s womb, naked shall I return to what I was made of, dust! 

When I learned that my first baby (now four years old), had a hole in his heart, I feared I would lose him, that I would not have him for long. But I pushed the gloomy thought away, trusting in God’s sovereignity, that He gives and he takes away. The operation went well and here he is now looking forward to start school in September.

It sounds unfair doesn’t it, that One is so almighty to have such a power, to give and to take away. I mean, I’m a Christian, I believe God’s existance, but even if I was an atheist, I would still wonder about the same thing, that there must be One who has such power. But there is also another side to the authority, that the One who has the power to give and take away also has the power to save and that’s what Easter is all about.

I’ve been Christian for many years, read and re-read Easter story so many times but each passing year I understand the whole thing in a deeper level. How that God understand we, human, are weak and helpless, that we cannot help ourselves so we need a man so holy to be our redeemer. So there was Jesus, crucified, died and on the third day he rose. I think of it as all the flowers that bloom in Spring time. It makes everyone feel there’s hope.

Jesus is the hope, the only hope one can rely onto and I am glad I know the hope

Fast Forward Two Years Later

I am back

Since my last blog, my newborn baby is now two years old little girl. My son turned four earlier this months and will start school in September.

I am still tutoring Maths. I have around 26 regular students. Sometimes I wonder where I got the strength from. I am still loving the job but HATE the part where I have to wait for bus in the cold.

I started a new University course when my second baby was 1.5 years old. I am undertaking my second undergraduate degree in Mathematics and its learning. I have grown the love of teaching Mathematics that I would like to properly study and exploring it.

I am not good at Maths though, I mean, I am not a Maths genius. I would say I am average. But the thing is, not everyone who is Maths genius can teach Maths. Not everyone who is Maths genius can understand the struggle that a student of an average capability is going through. And that is exactly what I am gifted with.

I plan to take PGCE at the end of my course. I am still open minded of vast options of work field available out there as Mathematics graduate but at the moment I am keen to enter the world of secondary teaching

I am in fact already stepped into the world, thanks to a private senior school local to where I live who gave me the opportunity to join their teaching staff. And thanks to a tutor website agency where the school found my profile from. The deputy head said I was fated to work there, imagine getting a job without having to apply for a job. Well, he said fate, I said it was God 😊

I will try to write more often but given my two jobs and two children and a course, I think I better make sure my priorities are right.

From One to Two

“I’m not ready for this” was my thought when I learnt I was pregnant again. My first was only 14 months at that time, and calculating the estimated delivery date, the new baby would arrive just before J turns two. My mind went blank few times. I don’t know what to think apart from “What have I done?”. But it has happened and life must go on. Ready or not, baby number two was on its way

The support I received had been great. Everyone was excited for our growing family. I should be too, shouldn’t I? But for some reason I wasn’t that happy. For some reason I kept telling myself it was going to be hard. Well meaning family and friend told me many good things about having two with short age gap between them and I was looking forward to see it happens; the day when they play together and off to school together. But there is still the first year of the new baby’s life that I and my family have to cope with. It was such a comfort when a lady, a total stranger, told me that it was going to be HARD but it’d be WORTH it. It was such a comfort when someone actually told me the reality of the situation.

And then I discovered more facts. The same pregnant woman; but completely different experience of pregnancy. My nausea lasted for nine months and I wasn’t as relaxed as I was with my first. I was a lot more tired and didn’t want to make fuss at all about the bump. All I want was to have it done and over with. The thought about labour still made me anxious just like when I was pregnant first time. I forgot how painful it was and I was worried if I would be able to cope with the pain. They said the subsequent delivery would be quicker and easier but would it? The thought played up in my mind.

Not to mention the chaos in the system because our local hospital, where I gave birth to J, was closed I was left feeling insecure. My dear husband didn’t seem like care a bit; perhaps because it was my second pregnancy so no more fuss like the first, just get on with it. I opted out for homebirth since the day I learnt I was expecting. Thanks to the technology of Internet and Facebook I was able to gather all the information I needed for homebirth. Well, I thought it was ALL until the midwife told me I would have to delivery the baby on my own, without the help from midwife to pull the baby out. And she told me that when I was about to push in the pool; what a shock it was.

Fast forward to the day of delivery, when our beautiful daughter was born I felt the burst of confidence hits me. The confidence of being a mother. And all of sudden I felt complete. I wasn’t as panicking as I was first time. I connected to her instantly. It didn’t take long at all for breastfeeding to establish. I just KNEW what to do. The labour was still painful (my it really was) and ever so quick too. 3 AM in the morning and I had shell shock, apparently common in second time Mothers. But apart from that, everything flowed nicely.

And here I am again, constant waking at night time and unpredictable day time schedule. It is around the clock of feeding, burping, changing nappy and sleeping. In between those activities fit in a running around 2 years old which as they describe it like a blender without a lid. Having one is hard. The change from one to two is equally hard too. Each with its own challenge. I couldn’t care less now with what I should do with my baby. I do whatever feel right to save our sanity and for a little bit of extra rest. I co-sleep from day one. I breastfeed on demand from day one. My husband chose to sleep in our son room on a blow up bed because he can’t cope with baby’s night waking, fait enough. He needs to be well rested anyway for his work which is quite physical. I don’t plan our daytime as such so I don’t have to feel the pressure of keeping organized. I give in with my 2 years old; he trashes the house and he snacks a lot. I stop trying to be in control; I let go and let God.

Our beautiful daughter will be 12 weeks soon and I start enjoying motherhood. It is the most wonderful experience I have ever had. I have good days and bad days but that’s life. There’ll be sunny days after rain (well doesn’t seem like it in England at the moment). And I am witnessing the most beautiful thing; the love that grows between two siblings. I was worried that I would not be able to love our newborn as much as I love her brother. But it turns out I’m in love with them both, equally. It has been amazing 😊

Well, it’s nearly 5 o’clock and I’be been awake for 2 hours. Better get back to sleep. My son will be jump up and down my bed in an hour.

Lesson Learnt From Waiting

I’m not talking about waiting in general. This type of waiting is different. It is not like waiting for the bus, when you missed one you sure you’ll get the next one or Like waiting for doctors appointment, even if they’re running behind their schedule you’d still get to see them in the end. There is another ending of waiting, is when your appointment is cancelled. But at least you know what you are doing.

What I’m currently waiting for is a baby to arrive. I sound like making a big fuss, yes I am! There’s many pregnant women out there been in the same situation with me and they didn’t make a fuss. But I do. Perhaps it’s because my first baby arrived unexpectedly 2 weeks earlier than his due date, and the labour was so smooth and quick. This second time around I was certain and was convinced the case would be the same. Although at the back of my mind I keep telling myself that every pregnancy is different still I did not want to accept that there is a possibility baby number 2 would come later.

I was so convinced the case would be the same with my previous experience to the point where I was so geared up with all the preparation. I was so organised. I did everything I could do in my power to get things sorted before the baby arrived. I “timed” and “planned” everything so well. We had the Christmas tree up on the third week of November. I had my Christmas shopping done by then as well. I had 90% of my Christmas card ready. We have the birth pool half inflated (we’re planning for home birth). We moved our first son to sleep with us in our bedroom because we use half of his room for the pool (poor thing has been in his old cot and he looks really cramp in there). And now a week and half gone since everything was “ready” and no sign whatsoever the little miss will make her appearance.

I’m frustrated! It is not because I end up waiting, well it does contribute a little, but because I was so want to be in control of the situation. My life this year has been like a clockwork. The same routine in and out. From the sun rise to the sun set everything was scheduled and I tried my hardest to keep everything run according to plan (and schedule). I feel like a control freak, which believe me, it is not me at all. I suppose it’s because I like working in a system and by “system” I mean everything is predictable; like a flow chart. And life has been so hard this past few years that I built a wall around me and force myself to be tougher than ever before.

Until this past few weeks, I am experiencing an extreme turn. I am humbled. The wall I have built collapses. I realise my foolishness. How could I ever dare to think and acted like I was the one who determine when exactly the baby is going to be born? I am not God who created this little being in me. He is the only one who knows the time because he foresees the future. He is the one who has the control. I’m so humbled to the point of powerless. Yes I could still plan and organising but the time and the day is a mystery. This week as I wait and wait and wait, my characters and mind is moulded. I am faced with such a great power that brought me to my knees to surrender. I am learning of God’s sovereignty a lot lately. I learn, as I wake up every morning not knowing what is going to happen today, to pray and ask for new measure of God’s grace. I’m glad that God humbles me in this way, so that when my waiting ends I could boast “not because of my strength, but because of God’s mercy”. It is so easy to get trapped in a routine and gained the feeling of being in control because everything was so predictable. It is so easy to forget there is such thing as X factor that playing part, an unknown variable that could be any value at all. It’s so easy to take God for granted “oh because He’s merciful and gracious anyway…” but when life goes the opposite way, God is the first to blame.

I learn a lot in this waiting time. I learn to trust God more and to surrender more. I learn to acknowledge him more and to respect his sovereignty. I learn to let go and let God. I learn that I have limit but God has not. I learn to sit still and to listen. I learn a lot!