“Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.”  (1 Corinthians 9:24-25)

I come from an educational path less travelled – an emotional rollercoaster ride in which laziness and sheer willpower struggled for dominance, while faith watched from the sidelines.

Studies were pretty much the bane of my existence.

As a Normal (Academic) student, I trudged on to ITE Nitec for two years, struggled through two years of National Service, then advanced to Higher Nitec for yet another two years. Finally, after three more long years, in 2010, at the ripe age of 27, I received my diploma.

I look back not with pride or relief – it’s nothing to boast of – but gratitude and wonder, because throughout this journey, God’s fingerprints were everywhere.

ITE (“Institute of Technical Education” to the educators; “It’s The End” to most Singaporeans) is often regarded as a dumping ground for the failures of our nation’s stringent education system. A convention of delinquents, masters of truancy and the dumb. The dark fate we, as children, were warned of if we lapsed in our diligence.

Given my more academically-inclined siblings, my disappointed father didn’t take the brightest view of my educational achievements, or lack thereof. He couldn’t care less about my pursuits.

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

But rather than being the end, my time in ITE turned out to be the beginning of something else. I had nothing to prove; everything to gain.

At ITE, God taught me the value of hard work and discipline. God was always near. He built my resilience. In my weakness and insecurity, He moulded and refined my faith, chiselling at the rough edges.

It’s The End? No – my time in ITE turned out to be the beginning of something else. I had nothing to prove; everything to gain.

My eyes were opened to the value of every human being – each fearfully and wonderfully made. Remarkable power lies in our hands. We have a responsibility to use that power for life, love, and justice. God imbued my life with purpose. I wanted to be a force for good in this world, and I knew I had to work to get there.

After receiving my diploma in 2010, by God’s grace, I landed my first job as a service engineer.

Those initial years were rough – on standby after office hours, working on Christmas Eve and Chinese New Year for three straight years – but it didn’t matter. God was with me and my employment was a miracle.

I thought I’d seen the end of the rollercoaster ride. I was wrong.

GREAT LOSS

Education was merely the shallow end of the pool. I was thrust into the deep.

My mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 muscular cancer. She fought with resolve. We fought beside her. We hoped. We prayed. The fight took its toll on all of us.

Meanwhile, I ended a friendship with a trusted friend. I had stood up for him when he bullied, cheated and stole from others. One day he compromised on an agreement we made, threatening me like he did everyone else. The bridges were burnt, my heart feeling like it had also gone up in smoke. I was perpetually heavy with anger, regret and self-pity.

Things got worse. The girl I was sure I would marry left me. It ended in the most undignified manner. The guilt seared itself into me; it still lingers.

By early 2013 it was becoming clear that my mother, despite giving her all, was losing the fight.

Facing the inevitable, I was crushed. My faith was shaken, uprooted, left for dead. At my wits’ end, for the first time, I cried out to God with all my being. I felt beyond repair. Everything within me wanted to call it quits. ITE – it’s the end.

Slowly, steadily, unexpectedly, I experienced the grace of His redemption.

LITTLE MIRACLES

It started with my mum, a devout Buddhist. She believed all gods to be, in essence, the same. As she battled her illness, God made her heart tender. Miraculously, She received Jesus into her life.

One of her first prayers was to witness the birth of her first grandchild. She also asked to see her three sons become financially-independent before she left. The second miracle: God granted His daughter’s request.

On June 17, 2013, her time on Earth was finally up. She’d lasted far beyond any of her doctors had expected her to. But rather than having to fight tooth and claw through those last days, her face radiated transcendent peace. I consider this yet another miracle.

Death is inevitable, but it still hurts to confront it. Yet with God, even death, like ITE, is not the end.

As she passed safely into the arms of Jesus, I knew that despite her struggle, she knew God.

Death is inevitable, but it still hurts to confront it. Yet with God, even death, like ITE, is not the end. In Christ, we are promised life after death – not simply an afterlife where disembodied spirits float around among clouds, but new glorified bodies on a New Earth.

I often dream of my mum. The hope I have in Jesus is that we will someday meet again.

GREAT GOD

Around that time, I took to marathons to take my mind off the pain.

Now, I’m flat-footed and asthmatic, and should really limit the distances I run. But when I run, God speaks. With every painful step, I felt His pleasure. (Cue Chariots of Fire theme.)

Later that year, I conquered my first 42km marathon and never looked back. I shot for a 100km Ultra-marathon, which I completed in mid-2013. Physically, I ran to distract myself from my grief. Spiritually, I ran from my pain.

God ran with me.

I couldn’t stop! In 2014, I transitioned to triathlons.

That same year I met an amazing woman who was everything I could ask for. She taught me to love people. To be willing to trust and not fear that others might abuse that trust. We love anyway. She was a miracle to me.

Our hopes and dreams were well-aligned. I felt – I knew – she was the one. On Feb 9, 2015, I popped the question; she said “yes”!
In His sovereignty, God led us to each other. We bought our home in 2016 and are awaiting our first child’s birth in 2017.

He will be named Elijah – my baptism name, only known to my closest friends. My hope is for him to carry his name the way the prophet Elijah did.

The prospect of fatherhood is scary. I long to be an earthly father worthy of my heavenly Father who loves me passionately. Sacrificially. Relentlessly.

GREAT HOPE

Oh, how life has played out. Three years through the doldrums, the next three to the promised land – my life is a testimony of His miraculous grace. I wear my scars proudly because I know how God’s carried me through the battles of my past.

God is faithful and good. I believe change and adversity are part of God’s plan to temper us for the better. To me, pain is a necessary furnace for our growth in character, call and gifting.

The miracle in us is the Holy Spirit, who empowers us to push beyond ourselves, keep running, eyes fixed on Him. To love through the deepest sorrow. To always hope. To be thankful.

Does pain remain? Yes. I miss my mother. I still carry the guilt.

The miracle in us is the Holy Spirit, who empowers us to push beyond ourselves, keep running, eyes fixed on Him. To love through the deepest sorrow. To always hope. To be thankful.

Then I look to my Heavenly Father, and Son on the Cross. How it must have felt to bear that old rugged cross of sin and death.

What great sorrow. Yet what great love; what great hope. The final miracle I’ve experienced in the journey so far is the fullness of my heart.

We taste His grace when we choose life. We run life’s marathons, triathlons even, and not grow weary. Whether the path is well-worn or less-travelled, we run only for Him.

But He lives, and in Him, so do we.