Wednesday, February 20, 2013

A Dancing Father

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“Are you sure?” I looked at him, holding tight a manual book he gave me. Step by step: To be a proper dancer.

He smiled, and then nodded.

“How does it feel? To dance”.

“Why don’t you give it a try instead of asking?”

“It’s not going to be easy? Is it?”

“Nope.”

“I will fall, won’t I?”

“Occasionally, yes”.

“Does it hurt? Will I bleed? Is there going to be any bruise?”

“There will be no gain without pain, right?”

“How do I know which step to take?”

“I give you the manual book”.

“What if I forget the steps?”

“You can re-read it anytime.”

“What if I don’t understand the instruction?”

“I’ll hold you and show you how to move”.

“You are dancing with me?”

“All the time. Promise”.

“But what if I stumble? Won’t I hurt you?”

“I am your father. Don’t worry about me”

“What if I ruin the dance?”

“You can practice it over and over again until you nail it. I don’t mind one or two or even a whole slip-up. Remember, I’m your father, don’t mind to look bad in front of me. I love you anyway.”

“How about the music? Is it getting more difficult to be kept on?”

“You want to be perfect right? Take your time, and just learn”.

“How about—“

“Why don’t we talk about the good part? The dance floor, it’s going to be great. The music, it’ll take your breaths away. The swings and sways, you’ll enjoy it and forget that you are dancing. And soon, you’ll get used to it”.

“But—“

“No more buts. Enough for the talks. How about give yourself a try, and we’ll deal with the rest later. Let’s dance! Cue music!”


And as soon as I try to move my body, I fall in love with the dance. The music is perfect, my steps are not so bad, I can see the world while I spin, and moreover, I love the hands that hold me tight. ‘It’s going to be harder,’ he whispered to my ear, ’but I promise it’s going to be more awesome too. Are you ready?’ I looked into his eyes and know he is the one I ever need. I nodded. How lucky I am, to have a father who holds me all the time, watches me step by step. A father who fights along. A father who dance.

Monday, February 18, 2013

Somebody's Trashcan

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“Makasih ya udah mau dengerin gue,” saya tersenyum tipis saat teman saya mengatakan hal itu pagi ini. Setiap kali mendengar kalimat seperti itu diakhir sharing seseorang, saya selalu merasa uneasy. I feel like I do nothing for them, yet they thank me. Kadang Hampir setiap kali mendengar curhatan teman saya nggak tahu harus berkata apa. Yep, I’m bad—really bad, on giving solution. Most of the time I’ll only listen, cause it is the only thing I can do.

Ketika ada teman saya yang menelepon atau mengajak saya bertemu, saya hanya akan diam, mendengarkan, sambil sesekali memberi tanggapan kecil yang sama sekali tidak membantu. Sometimes I feel sorry for them and ask myself why they keep talking to me. Tapi ketika saya melihat diri saya sendiri, ketika saya mencari seseorang untuk bercerita, sering kali saya tidak mengharapkan orang itu untuk menyelesaikan masalah saya. Most of the time I am not looking for solution or even an advice. What I am looking for is simply a pair of ears that listen, somebody who understands. Sering kali saya hanya butuh ventilasi untuk mensirkulasi pikiran-pikiran yang menumpuk di otak, atau pori-pori—untuk mengeluarkan beban-beban pikiran saya. Dan itu cukup. My problem will stay there—unsolved, but somehow it’s enough.

Mungkin ketika teman saya mencari saya dan bercerita, mereka juga tidak mengharapkan penyelesaian masalah. Mungkin yang mereka butuhkan hanyalah ‘tempat sampah’ untuk mengeluarkan masalah mereka. Mungkin yang mereka butuhkan hanyalah sebuah pendapat sederhana, atau sepasang telinga yang mendengar. Maybe what they really need is someone who comforts them and says, ’I understand,’ or, ‘everything will be alright’.

This kind of thinking eases me a lot. And it makes me glad to know that I can be somebody’s ventilation, somebody’s pores, and even more, somebody’s trashcan. 

Thursday, February 14, 2013

What comes at the end


Last night I prayed for today. I prayed for today’s end block test, for today’s briefing, and for today’s dinner with my friends. I asked God for all of them to run smoothly, and I pictured myself to be satisfied at the end of the day.

But today’s test was so hard I already stuck on the first problem. I ran on the pages and desperately did each number. On the evening, when I was taking my nap, something came up and ruined my mood. I planned to go to church at 6 p.m. to do some preparation for today’s briefing since I am the PIC for this week, and I told my friend I’d leave at 6.30 p.m. for dinner. It was a perfect plan in my head and I prayed for it. But since something came up—it was one thing and another, so I had to stay longer at church to do preparation here and there and I had to make my friends waited for me for dinner. I made my friend do her task alone at church, and I made my other friends wait at the restaurant. I felt really sorry for all of them. I was so disappointed. In the middle of traffic I asked God why it had to be this annoying. I prayed for today, and nothing ran smoothly.

But here I am, it’s 11 p.m. and I am feeling happy. It was a great dinner with good food and good conversation, and good laugh. I suddenly forget all of my anger. And something came up in my head. May be it’s not just for today. May be it’s too often I was angry with God without realizing that He still gave me happiness at the end of the day. I think, may be He made me through all of these frustrating things to show me that too often I get mad in the middle of something without appreciating what comes at the end. Or may be He made me through this day because He wants me to write this post. Or to simply realize that there still is a simple joy to be thankful for, even in the midst of our problems. 

Monday, February 11, 2013

Big Simple Thing


It was lunch time, and my friend asked me if I there’s any member of my family who is being sick. Today is a world day of the sick for the Catholics and she said that she is going to pray at chapel later, so she asked me if there is something I want her to pray for. It was very heart-warming to hear that kind of question, to know that there is someone who is willing to pray for you in person. To know that there is someone remembering you in her prayer.

I remember several months ago, a friend of mine asked me to pray for him before his examination, and I remember answering him,‘Iya, iya, kalau inget ya’.  That night, I ended up praying for him. I don’t know if he passed his test, I don’t ask him for the result. But if he did pass, I wonder how much my prayer helped him. It’s like I do nothing for him. It’s not that he can feel the effect of my prayer either. When he passed the test, I am one hundred percent sure, he won't remember me. But come to think of it again today, I believe a prayer is one big simple thing you can give to the people you love.

I am wondering how many people pray for me—mention me by name in front of God, besides my family. Then I think of people who I’ve personally prayed for. Of course they don’t know I ever pray for them. It is good to think that I am kind of their secret guardian angel, hehe…

If you have someone you really care about, don’t hesitate to pray for him or her—to whisper his or her name so God can hear it. Because it’s good—really good, to know that someone, somewhere, is praying for you. 

Friday, February 8, 2013

Go Ahead, and Pray


A friend of mine called me last night. It was almost 11 PM, and I was preparing to sleep. My phone rang, and all I did was staring at it. Waited for it to stop. It was late and I was sleepy and tired. I assured myself that it wasn’t an urgent call. And as I asked her today, I felt relieved that it wasn’t. It’s just her seeking for advice in the middle of night. I told her I was asleep.

As I came with the excuse today, I thought of God. And how grateful I am to have a-24-hour God. A God who doesn’t have limitation. A God who willingly to hear any complains anytime and anywhere.  A God who can contain my anger and keep up with my stubbornness. A God who understands me and won’t protest when I talk too much.

He is the same God since I was kid, The God who heard me prayed about toys and cartoons; The God who listens while I worried about my future now. He is a God who sees you growing up. He is still the same God wherever you are. He is the same God who loves and always longs to hear your voice. He is a God—A Father, who is available 24/7. Always.