What's my Voice?

I recently attended a writing seminar conducted by Philip Yancey. Yes, the Philip Yancey who wrote books like "Where is God when It Hurts?" and "Prayer - Does it Make Any Difference?". His style of writing is different from your typical Christian writer. There are no catchy punchy short sentences like the books by Max Lucado. He does not write lengthy sentences filled with scriptures, theological references and ideology. Rather, he writes from a very realistic viewpoint and dissects the issue as a journalist would because that was his profession before he became a full time writer. He writes not because he's an expert on the topic but rather, his "voice" is of one who asks questions that everyone in the pew is thinking but dare not ask.

He explained that he wrote "Prayer-Does it Make any Difference?" not because he spends 4 hours a day on his knees praying but rather that this is one of his weakest areas in his walk of faith. He said that his purpose for writing each book is for himself. It's a self discovery process where as he writes, he researches the issue until he learns something. He loves interviewing people and finding out their thoughts on the topic. Then he will try to put it all together and make sense of it. However, for his book on prayer, the views of his interviewees were so diverse, he felt that it was better to leave the individuals' thoughts as side-bars in order not to lose the gist of it. It worked because his readers felt a strong connection to the book. They had the "a-ha" moment in that when they read a story or two that touched them about prayer, it made them feel less alone and less inadequate. They felt that they were understood by someone else in this big crazy world.

What stuck with me for days since this writing seminar is when Philip said, "The success to writing comes when you find your voice, your genuine voice of who you really are". He already shared what his "voice" was. One of the attendees shared that she wrote a book on singlehood. So, Philip said, "That's your voice. Just make sure you don't get married until your book sales proceeds reach its first million! Otherwise, you would have lost your voice and would no longer be genuine." Others stood up to share their voices. "I'm a mother coping with a child of special needs." "I'm a manager who wants to improve the corporate structure and morale that I work in." "I'm a happy-go-lucky young adult struggling to keep a deep dark secret hidden." "I'm a pastor who wants to stir the church up into a strong spiritual movement." The list goes on.

I felt inadequate. A lot of the attendees have published books. A lot of them have found their voices. I wanted to shout out, "Yes, I know what my voice is!" but I couldn't. The truth is I don't know what my voice is. Am I supposed to be a working mother who juggles between her role of a corporate employee and loving Mummy? Or am I a faithful and supportive wife to my husband? At one point of time, I had thought my voice was that of one dealing with secondary infertility. However, the recent change of events have taken away that voice but there are no regrets. I'm all too glad to carry this miracle baby inside me.

Am I genuine to myself when I say I'm the voice of a modern Christian woman who struggles to make sense of it all? Is that voice too common? Is it too cliché? I don’t have the answer yet and yes, it does keep me up on certain nights. Amazing, isn't it, that such a thought can nag at you?

Maybe my voice is that of a Christian woman who writes about finding her voice? What do you think? Could that work?

It's ok, Mummy, it's ok

I can't stay angry at Osh Osh for long. I'm not writing this because he made me angry recently. It's just that while I was doing my work today, I heard his voice in my head and it made me smile. A sense of contentment filled me.

So, what did I hear? Well, it relates back to something he did a month or two ago. I was tired after a long day at work. I wanted to get dinner ready and Osh Osh was playing with his toys on the coffee table. There were toys everywhere and not an empty place to put his plate of dinner down. I was fed up and impatient. One of those evenings when it would only just take one more thing to trigger an explosion in me.

I know not keeping his toys is not a major crime but I wasn't in the right frame of mind. I told him sternly to keep his toys and I can remember feeling tension creeping all over me.

Osh Osh looked up at me from where he was seated. He smiled and said, "It's ok, Mummy, it's ok". At that point of time, I didn't get what he meant. He repeated himself and then went back to play happily.

I can't remember exactly what happened next but I calmed down and realised that it's not the end of the world that he didn't want to keep his toys yet.

What a nice reminder to me. My 3 year old son has taught me a valuable lesson in life. No matter what happens in life, it's ok to just carry on playing...we don't have to allow stress to get the better of us.

That's why every now and again (like today) when I hear his voice saying, "It's ok, Mummy, it's ok", life just seems sweeter and I am able to smile.

The sweetest voice

I rarely get the chance to hear Osh Osh's voice on the phone as I'm always with him and it's usually his Daddy or his grandparents who call him.

Today was my turn! It's such a rarity and such a treat!

My Mum's here to help me out while DH leaves for Hong Kong for his exams this Sunday and he will be away for about a week.

So, on my way out of the office, I called home to see if everything is ok. Osh Osh didn't go to school today because Mum wanted to spend more time with him. While talking to Mum, she told me that Osh Osh wanted to speak to me.

I heard the softest, sweetest voice on the phone, after a second or two of silence. My conversation with Osh Osh went like this:

"Can you show me Ben 10 on your computer?"

(His favourite cartoon of the hour! I went online last night to look up the names of Ben's 10 aliens - they go by names like Ripjaw, Four Arms, Stink Fly, Grey Matter and some names which I can't remember. He wanted to see them again tonight. Osh Osh can remember and describe each alien character accurately and he just loves looking at them - don't ask me why! Something I will never understand as I think the aliens look ugly.)

"Yes, but you have to wait until Mummy comes home first"

"Ok" then he continues (I later asked Mum if she had prompted him and she said yes. It doesn't matter because he said it and I'm sure deep down inside his little heart, he meant it too.)

"I love you, Mummy"

"Can you come home?"

"Yes, I'm coming. Have you eaten dinner?"

"No"

"Go eat dinner and be good. Don't give Poh Poh (meaning my Mum) a hard time. Mummy will show you Ben 10 on the computer when Mummy is back"

"Ok"

"I miss you, Mummy"

"See you later" and he passes the phone back to Mum.

I was smiling all the time I was on the phone with him, while walking to the train station. Hearing Osh Osh's voice over the phone made all the stress, tension and fatigue from work melt away. I thanked God for blessing me with him.

Somehow, this phone call was like a wake up call for me, to stop and really take stock of what matters in my life. My family, the people I love. Not my job (although lately, I've been so bogged down by matters at work including the uncertainty of keeping my job), not where I live, not whether I can afford a vacation, not whether I have enough money for retirement...yes, I know all these things are important too but I shouldn't let them overwhelm or consume me.

I hurried into the train...all I wanted to do was to go home and give my little man the biggest hug and kiss I could muster...simply because he said, "I love you, Mummy".