Thursday, February 28, 2013

holiday fun!

So here are just a few pictures from our little holiday! It was a long weekend staycation really, but a much-welcomed break. 

The lovely thing about these little staycations is that sense of luxury and relaxation we don't normally have -- orange juice in long-stemmed glasses with little napkin things underneath for instance!

Then, we get to do whatever we like in bed (and we would just leave everything we like in bed as well if we could!).

Bubble baths are always a treat when you don't have a tub at home...

... as is swimming...

... and the jacuzzi.

On the third day, poor Ro started sniffling and had to pass on the swimming. I thought she was very decent about just doing her activity books by the pool while Rebecca splashed about.

This was a crow that visited the pool every day and almost pooped on me.

Gratuitous pregnancy shot. Well, there was a big mirror and it seemed the thing to do at least once during the nine months.

Then there was a lion dance in the hotel! It was really quite thrilling to see them up close. Here they are futzing with a whole bunch of oranges somewhere in their bowels.

When they get up, they leave peeled oranges in the form of Chinese idioms that all have to do with fortune and well-being and other good stuff. Here it says "feng sheng shui qi" -- something like "wind and water rising".

The lions gave the kids a couple of oranges, but because Rebecca was the one who had to work for them -- like putting her hand in the lion's mouth, for instance -- there was a brief dispute on who they really belonged to.

Then of course there was the seemingly endless supply of food... yogurt and cereal and juice...

... fruit and eggs and all manner of greasy stuff...

... even I luxuriated in leisurely cups of hot chocolate.

Naturally, we did a lot of things that had nothing to do with homework or other boring responsibilities.

But the time came to say good-bye (for the present) to our beloved room...

... we know we'll be back soon though!

More pictures here.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

on words, and self-esteem

We were at the supermarket yesterday and ran into an acquaintance of the hubs. The man's wife was with him, and asked how old Becky and Ro are. Now Becky is of an average height for her age -- I've seen her with the rest of her class, and she is neither tall nor short. Ro, on the other hand, is tall for her age -- she is always the tallest in her classes, and most people never guess that she's just four.

Well, when people see Rebecca out alone, they don't think anything of it, but when they see her together with her little sister, their respective heights become comparable; and sometimes, like this bright woman, they would say -- loud and clear, right in front of her -- "She's not very big is she?".

And as I would say that no, her height's in fact pretty average, they would actually start disputing this, while Rebecca would be casting me these pained, stricken glances. Eventually I would politely smile and lead the kids away, and then be constrained to remind Rebecca that what these people say doesn't matter, that she's perfect just the way she is, and that ultimately, it's what's inside that counts.

But what is it with these dimwits and their lack of tact? Perhaps if someone said the same thing to that woman about her kid, she might well agree, while casting a critical, appraising eye over her child. It's not that being small is a bad thing, mind; it's the disparagement, the denigration, that goes with the observation. That is not something I will support or encourage -- young girls are under enough pressure from the world to look and behave a certain way as it is.

I guess adults usually have the upper hand when it comes to saying insensitive, belittling things to children, generally because children are simply too immature to formulate an adequate response. Instead, they absorb what they hear -- good or bad -- into their psyches, shaping their characters over time for better or worse.

Almost two years ago, I wrote a post about Marilyn Monroe and my hopes for my own daughters' self-esteem. In it, I quoted from the book The Secret Life Of Marilyn Monroe by J. Randy Taraborrelli: "... during [Marilyn's] pregnancy... she said, "'My little girl is always going to be told how pretty she is'… She was sure it would be a girl. 'When I was small, all of the dozens and dozens of people I lived with – none of them ever used the word 'pretty' to me. I want my little girl to smile all the time. All little girls should be told how pretty they are and I'm going to tell mine, over and over again'".

I went on to write: "How very, very sad. I do, in fact, know something of what she meant, which is why I always make sure to tell my daughters not only how beautiful they are, but how smart, and wonderful, and capable, and powerful they are too". If you have a quick look at that post, you'll see pictures of a book Becky had been writing in at the time; asked "How would you sum yourself up in one sentence?", she wrote: Fabulous.

I'd written that "I would love for my daughters to keep summing themselves up this way for the rest of their lives". I'm glad to say that Becky and Ro are still as spunky and confident as ever, despite their rubs with the real world, with all its false images and ideals, and tactless, insensitive adults. These latter individuals have unfortunately always been a bugbear in my own life, and it's annoying as heck to have to deal with them now that I have my own children.

As an example, I had wonderfully obtuse relatives who would feel compelled to say every time they saw me that I was pucat, a Malay term for "pale". While this does not seem especially bad  writing in English, it made me feel horrible as a child, for they were saying it critically, mockingly even, implying that I looked ashen, almost corpse-like. As I went into my tweens and the pointless observation continued, I tried to tan myself into a more acceptable shade, but, as anyone with fair skin knows -- you don't tan, you burn. Thankfully, I gave up on that scheme soon enough, but it was a long while before I learnt to shrug off such remarks.

In my post on the perception of beauty, I'd written, "One is bombarded daily by images of physical perfection, never mind how unrealistic, Botoxed or Photoshopped. Our culture creates impossible standards of beauty, and then somehow connects those standards to personal worth. It isn't always easy to learn to accept one's body without judgement".

Well, those same obtuse people would of course be making their observations on every other area of my life -- these were either direct criticisms, or else of the indirect comparison variety; as in, "Why can't you be more like so-and-so", or "So-and-so is so feminine, so neat, etc etc". I don't know if it's a girl thing, but I do know that these words affected me a great deal growing up, as they did my other girlfriends who were subject to the same thing. And now my own kids have to face this same mindlessness.

I don't understand these people -- most of them are parents themselves, and I would have thought they'd know better. But perhaps sensitivity is an inborn trait, something an inherently tactless person can only acquire with great effort. I see that those same insensitive relatives have not changed much in the past 40-some years -- just the other day, my aunt, on seeing me pottering about at home in my batik bermudas, goes, "Well, you're certainly not going to win 'Mother-of-the-year' -- you look like someone on skid row".

I'm thinking, I'm at home, I'm pregnant, I'm just trying to be comfortable and I'm so glad to have found lounge-y clothes that fit -- and you make these unnecessary, uninspiring remarks (this same lady, by the way, has been continually telling me how radiant the duchess of Cambridge is looking in her pregnancy; never mind that she's at least a decade younger).

It's often these very same day-to-day interactions that shape a person's self-image and sense of worth; I know from my own experience that these seemingly mundane exchanges can often have very profound effects. Every day is full of opportunities for us to build up or tear someone down; as a parent, I would like to think that I'm doing all I can to boost my own girls' self esteem -- goodness knows, there are enough discouragers out there -- and that does mean keeping a thoughtful guard on my mouth. Praise for their actions and accomplishments; appreciation and encouragement of their unique skills and qualities; reassurance that they are beautiful as they are; being done with the whole comparison trap... these are just some of the things I try to incorporate into our exchanges every single day.

My girlfriend sent me an excellent article from, entitled 5 Steps to boosting your daughter's self-esteem. "Mothers are the first line of defense against unrealistic images and suggestive advertising," the author writes. "Mothers, sisters, daughters and friends have immense influence over the younger girls around them and words are powerful. Think twice about commenting on somebody's appearance, whether in a positive or negative way. Negative comments invite young girls to create an unhealthy sense of beauty...

"From a very early age, girls want someone to love them, to recognize their beauty and to treat them like a princess. You have an opportunity to be a young lady's biggest fan by encouraging them, recognizing their beauty and helping them discover their gifts and talents. Make an effort every day to tell your daughters that they are beautiful and to look at them with loving, rather than critical, eyes. When the world tells her she is inadequate, a reliable and genuinely devoted woman needs to show her she is perfect, just the way she is...

"You can empower [young girls] by encouraging their individual interests and recognizing when they excel... The tendency to want to "fit in" can also make a young girl feel inadequate when she doesn't measure up. Clearly communicate that "fitting in" isn't as important as creating and pursuing her own definition of happiness" (extracted from the article here).

Remember that saying, "If you don't have anything nice to say... ?"

Friday, February 22, 2013


A handful of Ghostlet pins from a custom order for party favours! These sweet little fellows fit snugly in one's palm, and, without pinbacks, make happy companions who fit perfectly in a pocket, or propped up on a bookshelf. They're pudgy too, and it's sometimes quite tempting to treat them like those squishy stress balls!

The backs of these pins have an unexpected pop of colour and pattern, making each of them OOAK -- this one, for instance, shows Humpty Dumpty sitting on a wall!

Don't they have the kindest faces? They'd look so sweet pinned to a satchel or peacoat collar. I'm thinking I shall list them in the shop on a made-to-order basis, but that will have to wait till next week -- I'm off on a little holiday, yay! Have a super lovely weekend, dear friends; see you soon!

Monday, February 18, 2013

on hair, and being there

Ever since Becky started morning school this year, I've been having to get her up at six every day to get her ready. Getting up at six has certainly never been much of a habit with me even under regular circumstances, but now that I'm usually up every few hours during the night with my pregnant calls to pee, it has been a bit of a challenge (though sometimes I'm actually up from about 3am onward; on those occasions I'm just sitting in bed waiting for the dawn haha).

Well, Becky takes about half an hour all in all, from brushing her teeth to finally getting her socks and shoes on, but I guess the most time-consuming part of the whole thing is her hair. As you probably know, B's hair reaches to her waist (we cut it whenever she's able to sit on it) and, as her school rightly expects long hair to be neatly tied, I usually spend a fair amount of time doing this.

I'd sit on the toilet lid cover, and she'd stand in front of me while I comb and braid her hair, and all the time we'd be talking about how her various classes are going, what someone at school said or did, or what hopes she has for her future sport meets or class responsibilities. Sometimes we don't talk about school at all; she might ask something about a particular occupation, or tell me about something she read in a book, or share her thoughts on what sort of bra she'd prefer next time (sports) -- any number of things really. But there's one thing we do every day that never changes -- just before she leaves, we hug and say, "Love you, have a good day, see you soon!" And I'd watch her skip off, smiling.

Do you think I'd pass up on all that just so I can get a few hours' extra sleep? Even if I had to do it for the next nine years or so (counting Ro)? But because of that, I've been having these regular exchanges with my cousin on the subject, whenever he happens to see us on the weekend. I might happen to make some reference to being able to catch up on some sleep on Saturday, or it might just occur to him out of the blue; but he'd look at Becky's long hair and go, "Why don't you just cut it all off? Then you won't have to wake up so early". Essentially, he means that then B can just get herself ready and see herself off.

Well, on the practical side, I can of course appreciate that short hair might be a little easier to manage, but since any hair beyond an ear-length bob needs to be tied anyway, I don't know that that would give me that much extra sleep. Besides, B needs the longer hair for ballet, and, as most young girls aren't exactly hankering for short boy cuts, I won't do that to her.

So invariably I'd try to explain that I don't mind, and that in fact I think these little sessions together before B starts her day do have a cumulative positive effect. Because once B heads out the door, she's in a different environment, with a different set of people, for more than half the day; I really do think it worthwhile for her mother to take the time to chat to her about social and academic things that tend to occur to her right before class (besides the last-minute extra money for treats, or homework things she forgot to get me to look at). More importantly, I really think it makes a difference to her to know that I care, and that she is loved.

But when I tell my cousin this, his invariable answer is, "Well, I never had that and I'm fine". This, of course, unfailingly reminds me of what I'd written in a post almost a year ago: "I know people who say, "Well, look at me -- nobody bothered about me when I was growing up and I turned out fine", but I find that flippant and shallow, because honestly, nine times out of ten, you're not "fine". The deep-seated insecurities, fears and hang-ups; the detrimental character flaws that hurt friendships, marriage, career and spirit; all the consequences of misguided decisions, reckless actions, and irrevocable choices... And again, to think of what might have been, how much better one might have done..."

I'm aware of course that my cousin's view is fairly commonplace -- many parents here have no qualms about letting their maids or in-laws take care of all their children's needs, seeing them for only a few minutes at night, largely indifferent to any issues beyond the superficial.

I know too that I can never adequately explain what I instinctively feel; what I do know is that it would have made a great difference to me, and many of my own friends, if we had had this sense of care and love as we were growing up -- not just in the big things, like making sure we were clothed and had enough to eat -- but in the smaller details, things which sometimes go unnoticed, for weeks, months, years; things which sometimes desperately need attention.

I think you can learn a lot about what someone is thinking or going through in just a few minutes of genuine interaction -- and I think you can do a lot to help or encourage or even turn things around for that person in those few minutes; how then can one say that it makes no difference to a growing child to have such support, to be able to start each day off right -- confident, peaceful, positive and optimistic?

I'd read a wonderfully-written article some time ago by the international lecturer Lawrence Kelemen, entitled Life is for love: Raising emotionally healthy children requires plenty of attention and affection. In it, he wrote: "The first step in loving a child is being sensitive to his needs and attending to them. This is not an easy task. Many new parents are shocked by how difficult it is to sustain sensitivity and attentiveness throughout the day and night. We have no choice, however, since attentiveness, and all the love it represents, is crucial to our child’s development.

"When we are attentive to a child’s needs, we create a sense of security and confidence -- what psychologists call attachment -- and this provides the internal strength children need to handle stress later in life... Research also links self-esteem to attentive parenting. Moreover, not only do attentive parents produce sons and daughters who enjoy greater self-esteem than other children, this positive self-image persists up to 20 years later.

"In one study of women raised in Islington, England, investigators found that children raised by more responsive parents were twice as likely to have positive self-image in their adult years as those raised by less responsive parents. And children who feel good about themselves have higher aspirations, do better in school, earn higher salaries when they grow up, and handle stress more effectively than children with low self-esteem.

"Parents sometimes worry that attentive parenting undermines independence and confidence. The opposite is true. “Children who experience consistent and considerable gratification of needs in the early stages do not become ‘spoiled’ and dependent,” explains Dr. Terry Levy, President of the Association for Treatment and Training in the Attachment of Children, “They become more independent, self-assured and confident"...

"As children mature, they continue to need parental attention... Elementary school children need us to listen to them as they retell the day’s adventures, and they will often repeat the same stories over and over again just to hold our precious attention. They crave our participation in their homework and in their play, too. If our children learn that they can count on us for the attention they so badly need during their early years, they will continue to turn to us throughout teenagehood, too.

"Affection is more than just attention. Attention just requires being responsive to a child’s needs. Affection is the next step. It is warm, and it is the most powerful medium we possess for communicating love. We need to make special efforts to infuse this magical ingredient into our interactions... Affection also primes children for friendship and intimacy. A plethora of scientific literature reports that children who receive more affection tend to have more positive peer interactions and closer friendships...

"Hugs defuse delinquency. So say researchers at the Duke University Medical Center who compared the backgrounds of normal children and delinquents. After controlling for a range of factors, the Duke researchers discovered that parental affection was the active ingredient. They conclude their report noting that, “Violent boys were almost twice as likely as matched control subjects to have fathers who never hugged them or expressed verbal affection.

"Criminologists at the University of Illinois and Northeastern University also report that lack of parental affection is “one of the most important predictors of serious and persistent delinquency.” Sociologists at the University of Wisconsin and Florida State University reviewing the psychological literature, similarly find “absence of warmth, affection, or love by parents” associated with aggressiveness, delinquency, drug abuse, and criminality...

"Taken together, the basic ingredients of love -- attention and affection -- might constitute the single most important factors in human development. Love is not a luxury... Practically, what all this data means is that we need to pour on lots of attention and affection, and this takes time -- more time than most people who are not yet parents would ever believe... Looking after a baby or toddler is a 24-hour-a-day job seven days a week, and often a very worrying one at that. And even if the load lightens a little as children get older, if they are to flourish they still require a lot of time and attention.

"For many people today these are unpalatable truths. Giving time and attention to children means sacrificing other interests and activities. Yet I believe the evidence for what I am saying is unimpeachable. Study after study… Long before the first child is born, we must come to terms with the fact that our lives must change dramatically; that we must refocus; and that sacrifices must be made...

"The average U.S. teenager speaks seven minutes a day with her mother and five minutes a day with her father... Providing for the emotional needs of our children is not easy. Children need love. They cannot thrive without our attention and affection. If this demands a reshuffling of our lifestyle, it is a reshuffling we will never regret" (extracted from the article by Prof Lawrence Kelemen; italics mine).

And so yes, I will continue to rise and shine at six -- to braid hair and share my kids' joys and woes -- however silly some might think me. At the very least, they will look presentable.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

paw thing


I know; you're thinking, "Okaaayy...". Or, "Hm, the latest Bikbik & Roro creation for... um... babies?" Or maybe even, "Back-scratcher?" Well yeah, it could be I suppose, but it's really my attempt at making a dog toy -- an economical one that's also hardy and enjoyable (by the dog, silly).

I'd been observing Kip's play habits for years, and taking note of her preferences when it comes to playing -- both with her own toys, and things which are perhaps most concisely defined as, well, trash. I would say she really prefers the latter category of items, which seem to be far more attractive to her in terms of texture, sound and maybe even looks. Those expensive Kong things can't hold a candle to crumpled balls of paper, flyaway bits of stuffing, or even some clumsy careless dodo's person's eraser.

After finding her yet again hiding under the bed for chewing some plastic packaging she found in the bin -- while her fancy dog toys lay untouched just a few feet away -- I decided to try devising something of my own for her. That red thing above is it.

For want of a better name, I've taken to calling it what the kids do -- "Kip's paw thing". It's made of a durable canvas, but the fun part is inside -- all the crap Kip's ever enjoyed chewing (well, minus cat kibble and dubious dingy-coloured things) -- all encased in another canvas tube for safety. So the thing has different sounds and textures all along its length, made from such items as crumpled paper, fibrefill and, yes, erasers. I included a bell too because I noticed that she was attracted to tinkly noises, and made it just the right size and floppiness for her to carry around if she wanted. The one end of the paw is pointy-tassley because I've also noticed she likes things with little pokey bits sticking out.

I used some leftover red canvas, but am thinking that when I do make more for the friends who asked, I shall use blue, yellow or grey (dogs see the world in these colours). Of course, the real test came when I finally presented the paw to Kip; these are just a few of the pictures I took over the past couple of weeks!


All through the day...

And into the night, under the bed...

Wonderful for tug-of-war...

Or entertainment on muggy afternoons...

Or maybe even just as a friend.

I'm happy to report that Kip's paw thing is still intact and un-destroyed despite the daily assaults of biting and slobbering -- way better than rawhide! What crap does your dog like chewing on? Turn it into a safe toy for Fido and maybe he'll stay out of the dustbin for awhile :)

Monday, February 11, 2013

Sunday, February 10, 2013

happy lunar new year!

Or, a nice little break from school -- yay! See you in a couple of days!

Friday, February 8, 2013

on anger, and forgiveness


Yesterday I got into a confrontation with a close relation, which of course you can imagine is never fun, especially since it wasn't so much an argument between us, as it was me being at the receiving end of a rant well-peppered with all the expletives acrimony will inspire.

Things between this relation and I have been going downhill for years despite my best efforts; invariably, I displease him, often without even knowing it, and invariably, every time I've ever done so is resurrected when we clash. He seems to me to labour under some sort of persecution complex, apparently never feeling he is receiving sufficient respect or gratitude. I don't know anyone so accomplished at cataloging one's lifetime of faults and sins, or harbouring untold depths of resentment and bitterness, built upon layers of unforgiveness directed at every person who has ever trod upon his highly nervous, touchy sensibilities.

I've often thought how very like "Mrs Fidget" he is, this being a personification of perverse, hypersensitive affection described by C.S. Lewis in The Four Loves:

"I am thinking of Mrs Fidget, who died a few months ago. It is really astonishing how her family have brightened up. The drawn look has gone from her husband's face; he begins to be able to laugh. The younger boy, whom I had always thought an embittered, peevish little creature, turns out to be quite human. The elder, who was hardly ever at home except when he was in bed, is nearly always there now and has begun to reorganise the garden... Even the dog who was never allowed out except on a lead is now a well-known member of the Lamp-post Club in their road.

"Mrs Fidget very often said that she lived for her family. And it was not untrue... The Vicar says Mrs Fidget is now at rest. Let us hope she is. What's quite certain is that her family are".

In some ways of course Mrs Fidget is not like my relation; Mrs Fidget is essentially a martyr, but not in quite the same way as my relation. "Mrs Fidget, as she so often said, would "work her fingers to the bone" for her family... They couldn't stop her. Nor could they -- being decent people -- quite sit still and watch her do it. They had to help. Indeed they were always having to help. That is, they did things for her to help her to do things for them which they didn't want done".

But this -- this is so eloquently put -- "Can Mrs Fidget really have been quite unaware of the countless frustrations and miseries she inflicted on her family? It passes belief... the very laboriousness of her life silenced her secret doubts as to the quality of her love. The more her feet burned and her back ached, the better, for this pain whispered in her ear "How much I must love them if I do all this!"

"The unappreciativeness of the others; those terrible, wounding words -- anything will "'wound'" a Mrs Fidget -- enabled her to feel ill-used, therefore, to have a continual grievance, to enjoy the pleasures of resentment. If anyone says he does not know those pleasures he is a liar or a saint. It is true they are pleasures only to those who hate. But then a love like Mrs Fidget's contains a good deal of hatred" (extracted from The Four Loves, by C.S. Lewis).

In searching for the text of The Four Loves, I stumbled upon the blog post of Minister Steven Wedgeworth on this same Mrs Fidget, in which he beautifully described her thus: "This sort of “love” turns the posture of giving into an idol. The giver has to give in order to feel necessary. The giving itself makes demands. It lords generosity over others. It fulfills its own need by giving, and indeed, the gift nearly destroys those it is given to... what becomes clear is that the Mrs. Fidgets of the world are exacting a daunting price from their families. They make their families despise this form of “love” and often end up alienating those which they are supposedly doing so much for".

And so, letting my day, I'm sorry to say, be quite spoilt by this individual, I went to bed sad and forlorn, only of course to be woken at about 3am to pee. My depressed feelings naturally returned, and with a vengeance, as they are wont to do when one has insomnia. Being at the brunt of someone's concentrated ill feeling is never pleasant after all, and certainly not conducive to sleep. I found myself staring at the ceiling, struggling with feelings of hurt and anger, and desperately trying to hear from God. And then, from deep in my spirit came these words: "Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life in him" (1 John 3:15).

I knew then that I really needed to do something to stem my tumultuous thoughts, but what? And then my eyes fell upon a book that had been given to me some two years ago -- Living Beyond Your Feelings, by Joyce Meyer. I had not read beyond the first couple of chapters and the book had been tucked away pretty much brand new. Now I felt compelled to pick it up and was immediately drawn to two latter chapters -- Anger, and Why is it so hard to forgive? Reading them helped me so much that I told myself that I simply had to share some of it with you today, just in case you ever have to deal with a Mrs or Mr Fidget in your life.

"Nothing justifies an attitude of hatred. I admit that I hated my father passionately for many, many years. That hatred did not change my father or make him pay for his wrongdoing, but it did poison me. It took away my peace and my joy, and my sin of hatred separated me from the intimate presence of God.

"First John 4:20 reads: "He who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, Whom he has not seen". We cannot maintain love for God and hatred for man in our heart at the same time. When God tells us to forgive our enemies, it is for our own benefit...

"If I get angry when someone does something to me that's wrong, is my anger any less wrong than the wrong they committed? I think not. Sometimes their wrongdoing merely exposes my weakness and I am able to repent and ask God to help me overcome it. Be determined to get something good out of every trial you face in life, and don't ever let the sun go down on your anger...

"As we navigate life, we will need to be generous in mercy in order not to be angry most of the time. In the Amplified Bible we learn that to forgive means to "let it drop (leave it, let it go)" (Mark 11:25)... I talk to myself and tell myself how foolish it is to let some unkind person ruin my day. I follow Scripture and pray for the person who hurt me. I try to believe the best of the person who offended me and try to get my mind off the offense and onto something more pleasant...

"Some things that people do hurt us worse than other things, but the answer is the same for dealing with them all. Do yourself a favour and forgive quickly and freely. The longer you hold a grudge, the more difficult it is to let it go... I like to think of mercy as looking beyond what was done wrong and on to why it was done. Many times people do a hurtful thing and don't even know why they are doing it, or they may not realise they are doing it. Sometimes they are reacting to their own pain without realising they are hurting others. I was hurt so badly in my childhood that I in turn frequently hurt others with my harsh words and attitudes... It helps me to forgive when I realise that 'hurting people hurt people'".

"If I don't forgive, I am poisoning my own soul with bitterness that will surely work its way out in some kind of bad behaviour or attitude. The root of bitterness contaminates and defiles not only the one who is bitter, but others around him as well...

"We all want justice when we have been hurt, and it's often difficult to be patient while God brings it. We are very tempted to take revenge instead of remembering the God said vengeance is His, not ours...

"God wants us to do what is right first, no matter how we feel. When we do, we are growing spiritually and will enjoy more emotional stability the next time we are faced with a difficult situation... For many years I tried to forgive people when they hurt or offended me, but since I still had negative feelings toward them, I assumed that I wasn't successful in the forgiveness journey. Now I realise that no matter how I feel, if I keep praying for the person who injured me and bless rather than curse him or her, I am on my way to freedom from destructive emotion...

"When someone has hurt us, we can refuse to speak evil of them, even if we're tempted to do so. We can also bless them by talking about their good qualities and good things they have done. If we only look at the mistakes people make, we won't be able to like them. But looking at their whole lives gives us a more balanced picture of them" (extracted from Living Beyond Your Feelings, by Joyce Meyer).

If someone hurts you, cry a river, then build a bridge and get over it.


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