Happy New Year? Well, the only truth that consists in this statement of sarcasm is the occurence of another repetitive chronicle of labour and sorrow. Nothing new, neither seems anything happy, at least not innovative enough to be hailed and exclaimed by some sensational gimmicks such as a 300-second 3D fireworks tangling around Taipei 101. As everyone yells and socializes with stereotyped HNY greetings with each other, I do bear something other than relaxation and peace in my mind, other than happiness and fortune but melancholy and perplexity in the coming 100th anniversary of the foundation of ROC, which I call them MP 100, totally different from the blades accompanying loyally (not Royally and Collectively) me on the course or the chic pair of shiny white Chris bought at the cost of price-worthy 4 grands plus. It is but a jigsaw, a gear that will be too scary to find any heart of oak to manipulate with, for such boulders and the foreseeing consequences will be too heavy for me to shoulder on:
Ben is a lovely kid, and I know this better than any others. However, it would be a big problem to let such a naive lad know the real attitude toward life, a long journey where he has to step onto and take off, demonstrating what God has already made on him and thus expects to see him make the most use of it, his currently still dormant talent and calling, rather than the tedious procrastination and fine art of popping up various legerdemains, only to irritate the elders who would like to discipline the good-looking young boy to be correct. This guy knows nothing but resorts of coziness and sensual enjoyment, surprisingly on the condition that he knows null and void about its counterparts, mental toughness and physical asceticism. Thus I cannot say this new year happy.
There echo the lyrics:
｢ 在冬天結束以前 讓我安靜的冬眠
就省略多餘的再見 美麗的希望 走吧 不必留下來
留下來 留下這冰冷的夜
冷卻我所有思念 凍結這世界 ｣
As long as 43 years as I had learned to walk, I am still wondering where to go. Am I talented? Maybe, but I have yet been mobilized by my Father. I know many things; I know nothing to put to use. I learn many things; I learn that curiosity and inquiry may not be the only incentive to do the learning. Till now, from my nativity forty-three years ago till this very instant, I find nowhere to snuggle with my soul and commitment into. To take the Mission of Father seems definately, yet I need a more specific indication for a certain field where I can conduct such commandment, an order that every Christian and every Chris should take and carry out. Where is the place I can stay? Where is the stage I can perform? At what age proper shall my Father considers me eligible for His chores? Or will there by such days to come? Since the moment I was helped by a kind Samarian in the year 2006, after 38 years of wondering and idling, I have been asking this question to my Father, nonstoppingly and nonstoppable. At the end of 2010, I was quite sure I still am not prepared to get that answer. And what about 2011? Still waiting? Thus I cannot say this new year happy.
｢ 在天色變亮以前 請別撥開我的眼
就關上綺麗的畫面 不敢讓回憶留下來
流下來 流下最後一滴淚
失去輪廓的視線 心讓它撕裂 ｣
What I have to admit and worry about is being lazy to listen to God and read His words only if I would like to get a correct answer. Maybe Father also wonders if I do like to get this answer for I am lazy, damn' indolent to review the Book so often as beginning and get refreshed from it. Maybe the answer was already there. Maybe I've wasted much time and I should have adjusted my schedule and been a servant on my way early, through which I could have earned my deserved portion of salt. And the glory should have far early belonged to my Father, and He would have much earlier be proud of me. I am tasting my cup of wrath, sipping every bitter drop and dew I've instilled since 1968. Thus I cannot say this new year happy.
｢ 在空氣變暖以前 雪會覆蓋我的臉
當靈魂還沒窒息前 請讓我靜靜留下來
留下來 留下一點點尊嚴
一點點呼吸空間 讓我留下來
留下來 留下來直到一天
也許會睜開雙眼 忘記 自己的臉 ｣
Another cat, not Tom this time, is stretching his claws toward Jerry the mouse while he is struggling to huddle up in his tiny little lair with his confidante, whom he takes, perhaps, as one of his family members. The cat chokes his neck to intimidate for some 'legitimism' of such makeshift combination, which is the deepest pain at the bottom of his the most sensitive old wounds, with which a person wanders and lives nomad to where fits him for the time being. Happy-go-lucky? Or simply too frightened to find and face his own root and final destination? Or maybe Father would like me to take his hand and fight for our destinies together? I am worried about my brother and myself. Thus I cannot say this new year happy.
The only remedy I can turn to to fix the unwanted turbulences is, as usual, my Father, who always teaches me to wait with patience and gives me hope with delight. I shall not lose my faith, neither my temper. Father always has His own plan and the plan is much nicer and sophisticated far beyond my imagination. And the outcome will always do much good to me, soully and earthenly, mercifully and generously. I would be on my knees praise His Grace, telling Him about my deepest sorrows, doing what I ought to do, preparing myself, and await His conscriptions for my awaited callings, as always as what I did over the past 4 years.
Then I, Ben's father, will dare to whisper, “I have not lived in vain,” and be willing to say Happy New Year, resoundingly!
Ben is a lovely kid, and I know this better than any others. However, it would be a big problem to let such a naive lad know the real attitude toward life, a long journey where he has to step onto and take off, demonstrating what God has already made on him and thus expects to see him make the most use of it, his currently still dormant talent and calling, rather than the tedious procrastination and fine art of popping up various legerdemains, only to irritate the elders who would like to discipline the good-looking young boy to be correct. This guy knows nothing but resorts of coziness and sensual enjoyment, surprisingly on the condition that he knows null and void about its counterparts, mental toughness and physical asceticism. Thus I cannot say this new year happy.
There echo the lyrics:
｢ 在冬天結束以前 讓我安靜的冬眠
就省略多餘的再見 美麗的希望 走吧 不必留下來
留下來 留下這冰冷的夜
冷卻我所有思念 凍結這世界 ｣
As long as 43 years as I had learned to walk, I am still wondering where to go. Am I talented? Maybe, but I have yet been mobilized by my Father. I know many things; I know nothing to put to use. I learn many things; I learn that curiosity and inquiry may not be the only incentive to do the learning. Till now, from my nativity forty-three years ago till this very instant, I find nowhere to snuggle with my soul and commitment into. To take the Mission of Father seems definately, yet I need a more specific indication for a certain field where I can conduct such commandment, an order that every Christian and every Chris should take and carry out. Where is the place I can stay? Where is the stage I can perform? At what age proper shall my Father considers me eligible for His chores? Or will there by such days to come? Since the moment I was helped by a kind Samarian in the year 2006, after 38 years of wondering and idling, I have been asking this question to my Father, nonstoppingly and nonstoppable. At the end of 2010, I was quite sure I still am not prepared to get that answer. And what about 2011? Still waiting? Thus I cannot say this new year happy.
｢ 在天色變亮以前 請別撥開我的眼
就關上綺麗的畫面 不敢讓回憶留下來
流下來 流下最後一滴淚
失去輪廓的視線 心讓它撕裂 ｣
What I have to admit and worry about is being lazy to listen to God and read His words only if I would like to get a correct answer. Maybe Father also wonders if I do like to get this answer for I am lazy, damn' indolent to review the Book so often as beginning and get refreshed from it. Maybe the answer was already there. Maybe I've wasted much time and I should have adjusted my schedule and been a servant on my way early, through which I could have earned my deserved portion of salt. And the glory should have far early belonged to my Father, and He would have much earlier be proud of me. I am tasting my cup of wrath, sipping every bitter drop and dew I've instilled since 1968. Thus I cannot say this new year happy.
｢ 在空氣變暖以前 雪會覆蓋我的臉
當靈魂還沒窒息前 請讓我靜靜留下來
留下來 留下一點點尊嚴
一點點呼吸空間 讓我留下來
留下來 留下來直到一天
也許會睜開雙眼 忘記 自己的臉 ｣
Another cat, not Tom this time, is stretching his claws toward Jerry the mouse while he is struggling to huddle up in his tiny little lair with his confidante, whom he takes, perhaps, as one of his family members. The cat chokes his neck to intimidate for some 'legitimism' of such makeshift combination, which is the deepest pain at the bottom of his the most sensitive old wounds, with which a person wanders and lives nomad to where fits him for the time being. Happy-go-lucky? Or simply too frightened to find and face his own root and final destination? Or maybe Father would like me to take his hand and fight for our destinies together? I am worried about my brother and myself. Thus I cannot say this new year happy.
The only remedy I can turn to to fix the unwanted turbulences is, as usual, my Father, who always teaches me to wait with patience and gives me hope with delight. I shall not lose my faith, neither my temper. Father always has His own plan and the plan is much nicer and sophisticated far beyond my imagination. And the outcome will always do much good to me, soully and earthenly, mercifully and generously. I would be on my knees praise His Grace, telling Him about my deepest sorrows, doing what I ought to do, preparing myself, and await His conscriptions for my awaited callings, as always as what I did over the past 4 years.
Then I, Ben's father, will dare to whisper, “I have not lived in vain,” and be willing to say Happy New Year, resoundingly!
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