Studying

Have been rather caught up in studying lately so not very much to update anyone about. I wish I had more time to do other things or to meet up with people, but my social life is limited to phone calls nowadays..

And my entertainment is limited to Vicar of Dibley episodes on the DVD I got for Christmas and beautiful sunrises in the mornings. Which is quite alright by me :-)

Will update soon.

Isn't That Crazy

I just emailed my professor, have to do a project on the evolution of religion next semester which I chose because I thought it would be fun, but then realised recently that I have to assume that religion evolves to cater to the man's evolving needs and I realised that I couldn't write around that assumption! Argh! So I wrote a pompous letter to my professor asking for help and advice and other possible topics. And here is a pompous excerpt -

"As a Christian I believe that religion is based on truth and truth is unchanging, so I can't bring myself to do a project on the evolution of religion. I don't think truth adapts to fulfill the needs of man, but I do think everyone needs truth and is seeking for it, which is rather a different thing although this may not seem obvious at first glance."

I hope he doesn't think I'm pure barking mad.

Have been thinking about so many things over the last few days and gotten them sorted out in my head, at least - although not exactly sorted out in real life, it's a start that I've realised these things. Will write more next time if I have the time, but for now, I need to get started on studying. :-(

Have Yourself a Very Merry (English) Christmas (Warning: Pedantic)

So rushed to catch my train at 3 on Christmas Eve and got caught in the rain, bumped into Ex-Housmate-Above at the train station and he said "What did you do to get yourself so soaked?"

Arrived at Bolton station a little disoriented and caught sight of a familiar grey coat and shimmery red scarf... it was Katie with her dad who drove us to Horwich and an already-familiar house where I was welcomed so warmly.

We went to a midnight service at Rivington church, which was lit with candles and decorated with holly and a beautiful tree. The vicar, a youngish-looking man with smile lines around his eyes and mouth (I hope I'll have lines like that when I'm older) spoke very briefly. Although my mind wandered around the church a little, he said something I thought very beautiful. He spoke about how, during World War One on Christmas Day, something happened down in the trenches. Fighting automatically ceased, without an official day of peace being declared. Soldiers went into no-man's land and exchanged presents and played football, and just for that one day, they were friends.

I found it difficult to understand how they could have gone back to fighting the next day, and the anguish they must have felt. (Although am not a pacifist) It made me think of something I read somewhere, where someone suggested declaring Thursday a no-fighting day in countries where civil strife was going on. After a terrible week, people would start looking forward to Thursdays and wonder why everyday wasn't like Thursday. Hopelessly impractical of course, and I wouldn't believe that it was possible. But it just reminded me.

how can change be introduced anywhere?

it's even more difficult to imagine how it could ever be introduced by me

Was reading Dave Wilkerson's book "The Cross and the Switchblade" at Katie's. What made him think he could help the street kids of New York? What gave him the courage to make the 8 hour trip to New York and roam the streets everyday not knowing where exactly he was going or who he was looking for? Did he ever feel inadequate? (Because I never believe that I can make a difference anywhere.) Did he ever feel foolish?

I think he did feel inadequate, but he knew that "His strength is made perfect in weakness"... and he knew also that he was there to "do good works, which God had prepared in advance for him to do". Perhaps he knew that all he had to do was to find out what good works had been prepared in advance for him, and just go, and trust that it would all work out.

Oops, have lasped into preachiness and wandered far away from what I was going to write.

Anyway, have to tell you about communion as well...

Towards the middle of the service people went out to take communion, and knelt at the front of the church while the vicar administered the bread and the cup. I'm not used to that, usually taking communion in my seat. For some reason going up and kneeling was beautiful and moving. Throughout the service my attention had been wandering because I didn't know the set prayers and I was just thinking about things, but going up in a solemn line and hearing the vicar whisper, "by his blood you are cleansed" I knew in a great wash of emotion just how much had been sacrificed for me, how wide and how long and how deep was His love for me. Knelt and thanked him quickly..

Slept that night in a haze of happiness and woke up the next morning to a world freshly white and cars topped with a layer of snow. We had breakfast and then everyone went into the living room to open their presents. I didn't expect so many and was quite overwhelmed. I really didn't know what to say,

and outside the snow was falling lightly

Megan also called from Canada, Florence texted from France, Haya texted from Jordan, and Mingzhen called from Singapore. I'd never felt so surrounded by warmth and friendship before. Also called my parents and my mum chatted away merrily about how everyone back home had been asking after me.

We had a lovely Christmas lunch thanks to Katie's mother which started at 2 and ended at 5 and by that time I was already feeling very warm, full and muzzy from too much food and red wine and was glad to be a contented lump on the settee half-reading Judith Kerr and half-watching Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

After that we went for a walk around Horwich. It was freezing cold and the sky was eeriely glowing and Katie and Ellen told me about when they were little and the people in that village. I took pictures like a crazy tourist and the fields were just quietly radiant in their covering of snow and the houses were right out of Hansel and Gretel (slight exaggeration there).

The next day was Boxing Day and I got to meet wee James at last and hold him. He was as lovely as I'd anticipated.

And that was my Christmas, where I felt I'd given nothing, but received so much. Help me, to give more in future. But this time I am really thankful for having been so blessed.

sorry if this is a little corny, hehe. have lots more to tell you, will write more next time.

Giving

Yesterday after I'd finished my studying in the library I was going to walk home and not eat anything when my steps turned towards a little convenience shop and after that I thought I might as well walk down to Morrisons, and so I did, in the winter dark of six o' clock.

There's a little bridge before Morrisons where beggars like to squat beside with a wee plastic cup. I walked past this bridge as usual and a pale, thin man sitting on the ground in rags asked me to spare some change. I didn't give it a second thought and walked on.

You worry that if you give money to the people on the streets, they'll use it for drugs, or alcohol, or just not use it to feed and clothe themselves. My mind was telling me all these things, but I thought of what I'd said to myself after Egypt - there had been so many poor people there, all hounding one for money, and trying to cheat you of your money, or willing to do anything dishonest just to get money, even stooping to lower themselves to ask for more after you'd already given them some.

I'd given a little wide-eyed boy ten pounds, and after that he came up to me with a pound note in his hand and claimed that I'd only given him a pound. It just made me sad that such a young boy felt compelled to lie for money, or would even think that palpable dishonesty would make me give him more.

After that I'd thought to myself how hopeless everything was in a poor society. The usual rules of honesty and integrity and faithfulness didn't seem to apply in a poor society. People compete with each other to get ahead and conventional values seemed too unrealistic to put into practice. Because they were poor, they would always want more and more, and always scheme to get more.

Giving them money would not satisfy them, because it would not make them rich. And letting them cheat you of your money would only be paving a way for them to sin. And if you had compassion for them they would see it and squeeze you dry. I really wanted to help them, but I didn't know how. There were so many people as well, and you just realised your insufficiency to do something for them all.

I was thinking about all these things and finally I just thought, I'll give my money now, because that's the only thing I can do. If I can at least do something, I'd do it, rather than doing nothing because of all these reasons and fears. Changing something is better than leaving it as it is.

So I went to Morrisons and bought my chicken and rice pudding and mixed vegetables and juice and cereal and milk and got some change, and fumbled around with it, dropped it clumsily into his split plastic cup. "Merry Christmas" he said and I said "God bless you" and kind of half-ran away because I was embarrassed.

I didn't want to think that he'd use the money to get drugs, or anything like that - I was just glad to have given. Maybe I was being unrealistic, but I thought - God gave a gift to me one day long ago. There were times when I mistreated it, times when I didn't value it, times when I thought that life would have been so much easier had I not accepted it. Times when I struggled and wanted to let it go. But I finally learnt how to value it. And I hoped in my heart that maybe one day, he would also value what he had been given. Maybe he already held it dear then.

I half-walked, half-hopped home because of the cold, and stopped in wonder because the clouds were rolling menancingly in the gloomy sky, making the moon look like it was receding backwards at great speed. And I stopped and thought how wonderful it was to be living in this strange, exciting, amazing, quirky beautiful world.

Things

Called my dad today and he told me that my brother had decided to name his little daughter Ruth. He also said that her Chinese name would probably be JieLing (Jie - Pure, Ling - Spirit) which is such a lovely name. What a beautiful name to live up to...

After all the excitement of Egypt and the Sphinx and camels and the pyramids and temples and mummies and suchlike, I'm so glad to return to soothing Leeds and my friends here. Although I've not seen anyone yet due to my being stuck in the library (trying to) study, it feels so comfortable and familiar to be back.

I seem to have done alot today - my laundry, organising my file, my room, typing out a study timetable, emailing and calling my parents, planning out what I have to do for the next few weeks, and studying a sixth of a quarter of a subject... Yet it's not very much to me, and I really need to do more.

I'm going down to Katie's to spend Christmas with her from the 24th to the 27th. It'll be my first English Christmas and I'm really looking forward to being with a family again. Katie says the programme is going to be:

24th: midnight service
25th: opening presents, eating and watching The Snowman
26th: visiting aunt and cute wee James and Boxing Day shopping

and then it'll be back to Leeds and the comforting routine of studying and the steady smiles of friends.

Egypt

I was offered 10 000 camels to marry someone today.

Andy said his mum was offered 20 camels, so I guess 10 000 is quite alot. :oD

It's beautiful and awe-inspiring and a little eerie viewing the remnants of an ancient, intelligent civilisation, but at the same time too many dog-headed profiles of people and portraits of slaves being tied together and sacrificed to various gods and trying to decipher too many hieroglyphics has gone a little to my brain, making it rather fevered.

Still, am having a great (and warm and sunny) time.

Mist

The mist last night was overwhelming. It curled in front of me, obscured the world in whirling fading swirling clouds and made me feel as though I were in another world, on another plane, living another life where I was really truly myself without any pretensions, as though I were laid bare by the mists and peeled away layer by layer until all that was left was

myself

Haha... that was a little bit weird. Anyway, it was really very misty last night. And sometimes you feel you can be more of yourself in the mist, that you don't have to pretend to be laughy and jokey, and you can talk about what really matters most to you, what you believe in, who you are.

That was a little bit weird too.

Guess I can't write something without it coming out weird...

So maybe I'll write something later.

A Time To be Born - And A Time to Die.

I walk past lamps shining merrily in the frost of the night. I look at trees bare of leaves and hung with glittering lights and wonder whether leaves will ever grow again. To look at this weather I could believe that it would be winter forever and it will never turn into spring.

I could believe that the tree will never bud and that the nights will always be stinging cold. I could believe that I will always slip and slide my way back home on the frosty roads. I could believe, in the darkness of night, that the sun doesn't exist at all and that the dawn may never come again. And I could believe that everything will just stay as it is.

shivering in my black coat

But I know that everything moves on in a massive cycle, and I know that after winter comes the spring. I know that the darkest part of night comes before the dawn, and I know that everything is constantly changing and growing. I know that without death, there is no life.

And I know that this is the time to die, but the time to be born - it will come soon.

And I know that some day I will see the tree in bloom again.

Blur

BLUR - Used to describe someone as rather inept or in a world of his own. May also be used to describe the feeling of being dazed.

SOTONG - Malay for “squid”. Used to describe someone as rather inept or in a world of his own. Presumably, it comes from the squid’s emission of a cloud of ink, hence the popular phrase, “blur like sotong.” May be used as both noun and adjective.

Am in the cluster now and half-amused, half-mad at myself because of something really blur I did! I was sorting through my handouts for my next lecture on the Internet and then pressed "print" without thinking. After I'd pressed "print", I realised that each slide would come out on a page of its own and I'd forgotten to change the settings to "print hanouts, six per page" and because I had 50 slides I panicked and ran to the printer and stopped it, though probably only after the 38th slide...

Blur blur blur blur blur.

I just realised today that I didn't have to change all the slide backgrounds as well. All the slides are black and the words are yellow and the graphs are red and I used to spend hours and hours turning everything into black and white. But because I forgot to change all the colours today, I realised that the printer turns everything into black words on a white background anyway.

I've been feeling really tired lately, so maybe that may have contributed to my blurness and my tendency to hear and misinterpret almost everything. So hope that I may become my usual bubbly self soon.

Talking to Myself

When I was a little kid I used to think about the day someone would put a gun to my head and say, "Do you believe in Jesus?" and I used to be afraid that I wouldn't have the courage to say yes, but I also used to be afraid of what would happen if I did.

I used to have this funny feeling as a little kid of 8 or 9 that Jesus would come in my lifetime, and I used to ask my friend Eunice as we were walking along the beach on a Sunday School outing at that time, "Do you think Jesus will come when you're alive?" I remember her saying yes and I remember feeling a little frightened at that because I would imagine myself being persecuted and my toenails being burnt (I always dreaded the nails being burnt or being pulled off slowly bit).

And then when I was at Outward Bound School I learnt that there was nothing to fear but fear itself as I jumped off a five-storey high platform with a rope around my waist and found that jumping wasn't difficult at all, it was the getting myself to jump that was difficult.

When I was a teenager I was talking to an older woman and I was telling her about the fear that I still had (and I still have it now, at times) and she said very gently and with such an expression on her face, "Ruth, you don't have to worry whether you will stand strong in the future. Just be careful to walk with God every day. And when that day comes, you will be able to stand strong."

I guess many of the fears that I have about tomorrow and the future are really unfounded. And alot of them are based on my overactive imagination... and you know Ruth, you don't have to worry... when that day comes, you will be able to stand strong.

Malham and Thoughts

We woke up at the unearthly hour of 830 a.m. today to go to the Yorkshire Dales and on the coach there I was half in a daze and half-pukey - put my feet up on the seats opposite me, lay down and slept, but quickly got up when I realised some elderly people were coming into the coach and I didn't want to look like a rough, untame hooligan. So I sat up primly and read a little and looked out of the window at the signs saying Skipton, Kendal and finally Malham.

The fields stretching out endlessly bordered by stone fences and the winding bumpy roads were just so beautiful that I felt so satisfied, and I thought, "It's really so beautiful and I think I feel so satisfied because beauty is food for the soul, and here I am and my soul is being fed." I told Andrew that and he said sarcastically, "So poetic."

But I really do think that my soul is fed on beauty and this means that my soul's substance must be beauty as well if that is what sustains it, and that makes me think that God must have intended all of us to be beautiful people, to aspire to what is good and noble and true, if these things nourish our souls. And that thought really releases me at times; because I realise that things in my life which I have to get rid off aren't sacrifices I have to make, but they're just things which cloud my soul, and as they're being taken away I'm freer to be myself.

And sometimes I think that I have to stop thinking that these things are things to be ashamed of, to hide; I have to stop thinking that standing out or being different from everyone else is a crime. Because who cares what people think, as long as you do what you feel is right.

Anyway, my preachy mood has ended and the funny mood is coming on me now, so I'll tell you something funny that happened on Friday. I was sitting opposite this guy whom I'd not met before, so just as he was putting food into his mouth I said, "Hi, I'm Ruth".

He mumbled something which I thought was "Hi, I'm Eugene" and I said enthusiastically, "Hi Eugene!!" and he nearly choked on his food and he said "I didn't say my name was Eugene... I said 'hi, I'm eating!' " and Sunny and I just burst into huge guffaws and Eugene (His real name turned out to be Patrick) was giggling quite alot as well.

I've been making quite alot of funny hearing problem mistakes recently. Silas says he's going to get me a hearing aid for Christmas... and I'm only 21. I don't know what I'm going to be like when I'm 60! No, don't say that Ruth... I believe that I am going to have excellent hearing and energy and, of course, retire in the Yorkshire Dales and walk my dogs everyday and write a bestselling novel about my colourful life.

I

go

Christmas Ball

I had a good night last night at the Charles Morris Christmas Ball held at the Hilton Hotel. Was in my room earlier doing makeup for Sunny and Megan - I was so proud of myself - plucked Sunny's eyebrows and if I say so myself it was a pretty good job. I felt a little like I used to in my dancing days - haha - I make myself sound so old - when we would all cluster in a little room with mirrored walls and do each other's makeup and hair and the whole room would be filled with anticipation of the upcoming performance and after everything we would run back into the room and cry and laugh and hug each other.

I sense that this entry is about to get emotional...

Anyway on the subject of makeup, I really wish sometimes that I had a little tool for looking at the inner beauty of people and not at their outward attractiveness. Something like the disease Shallow Hal was cursed with has a little skin over my soul and I can't shake it off... and sometimes I guess I may be blinded to the good points or faults of people just because they look the way they do, and I really don't want to be like that.

Anyway, this poem by Kipling really made me want to shake off that shallow, frivolous, ditzy, flighty side of me -

IF YOU can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

- although I am not a Man nor Kipling's "son" nor will I ever be.

Dancing last night to the jolly jazz band I felt my feet flying and my heart light

And came home to the comfort of my nightly tumbler of hot water and a cosy room.