Keeping The Faith…

It’s WS-Day+3…

It’s strange how, when you think you’re loosing your faith on things…life has its funny little way of giving you enough “jump” for you to regain it back again. Ok…maybe I’m not quite there in loosing my faith, but I’m not exactly holding on to my faith in alot of this either. Love, friendship, career…destiny. These past few months have been trying for me. Maybe it’s the doubt that as much as I want to see it happen, I’ve chosen the wrong career, maybe it’s the fact that I’m having second doubts in leaving to further my education in Australia, maybe I’m feeling a little lonely in my persuit to whatever road I’m taking.

Everytime I want to sit back and reflect on the things I did, am doing and supposed to do…I realise I shouldn’t be sitting down and wasting my time doing it? Is that how it’s going to be for the rest of my life? To stop comtemplating my next moves? No wonder people always quention themselves on where did they go wrong in their lives. If this is true, then by all means…none of us would even know for the remotest of moments in our lives we made the wrong turn, where we should have turned.

I find myself staring at my hands alot too. Remember that song from Jewel…Hands?


If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we’re all OK
And not to worry ’cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these
I won’t be made useless
I won’t be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear
My hands are small, I know
But they’re not yours, they are my own
But they’re not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
Poverty stole your golden shoes
It didn’t steal your laughter
And heartache came to visit me
But I knew it wasn’t ever after
We’ll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what’s right
‘Cause where there’s a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing
My hands are small I know
But they’re not yours, they are my own
But they’re not yours, they are my own
I am never broken
In the end only kindness matters
In the end only kindness matters
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
My hands are small I know
But they’re not yours, they are my own
But they’re not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
My hands are small I know
But they’re not yours, they are my own
But they’re not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
We are never broken
We are God’s eyes
God’s hands
God’s mind
We are God’s eyes
God’s hands
God’s heart
We are God’s eyes
God’s hands
God’s eyes
We are God’s hands
We are God’s hands


Maybe that’s message for all of us who lost our faith in everything somehow. I may not expect much from God, may not pray on my knees or believe that we’re God’s body parts, but…my hands are my own. I shouldn’t worry for times like this because it’s useless. What matters is I do exactly what I set out to do, if that’s to do something which in my mind is noble, then by all means…maybe I should. Maybe I might make alot of wrong turns…but if faith and passion is pure at heart and mind…I think we’ll all be ok.

I think it’s going to be…ok.

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