His Name is Jesus

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He was a beautiful man standing in the shadow. A heavy scarlet robe wrapped around his thin frail body. His long and lovely face was downcast and a crazy mesh of thorns was twisted around his head. I sat quietly in the school sanctuary, not comprehending what was going on. Today, for the first time, we the kindergarten 2 class had the opportunity to go to the sanctuary. Although I do not vividly recall seeing a picture of Jesus, the aforementioned image of Him filled my mind as a child. Seeing Him gave me a strange sense of assurance that this Man understood the petty turmoil of my childish heart, and the graver concerns of growing up in a household whose values are mostly contrary to His own. This was my first encounter with Jesus Christ, in a kindergarten for which I will always be grateful - Canossian Convent Kindergarten at Jalan Merbok

The presence of Jesus continued with me until I went to primary school. As my school performance was miserable, my mother thought I ought to have an academic "edge" by being prayed over and blessed at a nearby temple dedicated to Confucius, a deity of knowledge. There was much listless vexation as I waited outside the Confucius temple for my turn to be prayed over by the temple priest. The suffocating aroma of incense wafted outside where I stood with my domestic helper. Just then, I felt an increased awareness of Jesus Christ being present with me. It was as if He was standing by my side and asking me if I wanted to go into the Confucian temple. I had a sense that this decision was an important one. Sadly, I told Him "Lord, I have to obey my parents".  As I headed into the Confucian temple, I felt my heart shrink with deep sadness and a sense of loss.

This marked the beginning of what would be a lifelong awkward dance of my tenuous faith with His patient bidding. 

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