I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.—Charles Dickens

HAPPY CHRISTMAS;

My blog is in dire need of colour and life. The above greeting stands as an attempt to expunge the monotony.

I traditionally celebrate Christmas by watching a continuous strings of cartoons that build the festive mood because there is no snow, no tree, no turkey.

My program starts in the morning and it will persist till the night, and morph from animation to live-action TV.

Shows like The Polar Express and definitely, Love Actually create a tropical, local Christmas that is a prized holiday.

Now that I am a soldier and an almost-adult, Christmas is no longer a subset of a larger and longer holiday because I'm no longer schooling.

This makes me really miss JC and the time I spent then, as a student who's mistakes were mild and less costly and had the huge autonomy to do what, when I liked.

Looking back at being a student and comparing that with now being a soldier, I feel evermore that the leap is massive, and I've been put on accelerated growth in this whole year.

I think that most of the female and large parts of the male people in our land have very little idea about what we do and how we train and fight, and if I ever get to a position with leverage and heavy influence, I would propose that (female) students get to see us do a regular mission.

Videos and photos cannot capture the heat and rigour with what we do, and even I myself could never have imagined doing the things that I've been at, a year ago.

The future is unseen, but only to our less powerful eyes and not un-sketched or out of the hands of our God, who is faithful and good.

I came up with some realizations.

First, Santa Claus is a big racist who neglects Asians.

Since he is full of magic, the weak excuse about there being no chimneys in our flats and condominiums is non-believable.

If he were committed, he might use the general rubbish chute that connects every single apartment.

Two would be that I am wholly unprepared for any sort of romance.

Three is that I am actually pretty good with children. My mutant ability to induce laughter strikes a chord with those below 1.5m in height, and I am thinking this accidental weapon is also potent when turned on even ladies above this range.

Many of the people I know in Anglican High are expressing faith in Christ.

This is a pleasant surprise and I wonder if He is working on something while drawing all of us deep into Him, because we are the next generation of believers who will impact the world, acting in the full might and power of His Holy Spirit.

To pray for softening of hearts which grow receptive to the message of love, and to be perfect in Christ. Softening is hardly the same as weakening, which I think is an association we make inadvertently.

GLORIA IN EXCELSIS DEO