end 22

When your diary becomes the surest way to remember life, perhaps either life has blurred itself into a meaningless haze—or that it is now so deeply fulfilling that many things no longer morph into a shameful rumination that keeps you stuck on select days.

The good Lord has made good this unexpected decision to stay put= move back to Singapore one fateful day in early 2021. While a large part of the past 2 years were excruciatingly painful, therapy, friendship, and family were healing balms to my soul. This season has been one of learning to receive—that I can only receive that which has been given to me. At least, I am more cognisant than ever that my grasping at straws often comes from much fear and insecurity; being able to open my hands to receive required the deepest ever dive into the parts of me that needed the light of healing and grace most.

When I emerged from the depths, it was having to walk on water/ pitch black, howling winds and then day with merciless sun; with only the voice of my Creator as the horizon's line separating states of water sky/sea. Some days I was parched, some days the grace of rain was the only relief my tongue could get. Step by step by step. and then an overwhelming wave that hit with winding force—and cradled me ashore.

this only, I know: Life has just begun for me.