Heaven.

Monday's GP lesson left me feeling terribly ashamed of myself. There I was, feeling sore and sorry over my O level results (as much as I was trying not to), exercising extreme self pity and probably pride - a pride that had most likely made me think that I should've obtained a perfect score; a pride that made the fact that I hadn't scored perfectly that much harder to accept, because I had failed the expectations that many had of me, including the expectations I had had of myself. Then Madam shared with us the story of David. No, not 'David and Goliath' David, but Singaporean boy David, no doubt as amazing and wonderful as the David from the bible story. Here was a boy with a humble family background and tragic past, but with steely determination and sheer hard work, he had done really well in this exam.

It made me feel so small, not because Aww shucks, all the more I should've scored a six because how is it justified that this David guy with his sucky life could get such a grade and what, I'm just marginally better than him?!, but because there I was, crying, feeling pity for me, when honestly, this small setback and so-called unhappiness I was facing was NOTHING compared to all that David had been forced to endure in his lifetime. And he was still smiling, so why shouldn't I be smiling even bigger and brighter?

Not only had I sinned that Friday in having a great deal of pride, but also in indulging myself with emotional blog posts (which I considered deleting, but have decided to leave up there to remind me of this lesson learnt), crying session after crying session, and getting over poor results, which in fact, weren't all that poor. Rather, I should've been rejoicing and thanking the Lord for giving me the results I had obtained, not to forget, for blessing me so abundantly with a good, comfortable life, with great opportunities and valuable experiences, with wonderful friends and a loving family.

It made me feel so, so, SO terribly ashamed of myself. It really did.

During Literature tutorial today, we were told to write a poem about a particular word or words that appealed to us, whether it was the sound of the word that did so, or the connotations the word had. Whatever it was, we had to churn out the poem in just fifteen minutes. Well, the first word that came to mind, which subsequently became the title of my poem, was... ...

Heaven.

Heaven.

A high up place

atop a hill

beyond the horizon.

There we sit with praying hands

hope overflowing

happiness everlasting.

No hiccups

as we make the journey there

no hell (and the devil)

to get in the way.

We'll be happy

hopeful

in the high up

high up

heaven.

Praise the Lord! (For strange and lousy poems by Lesley! Haha!) (:

That seven on my results slip? It's part of God's plan for me - wouldn't trade it for the world. I'm over feeling sorry for myself. Now I shall look ahead, live for the present, treasure the past, just smile, be happy and never ever give up on Him.