I had lunch with my BHP sister today.
She got to try out the Sago Gula Melaka. She told me her Belacan Friend Rice didn’t have enough belacan. My Chicken Minced Fried Rice had no taste. I think I can tell it apart from white rice blind folded but it made my sensitive tongue very unhappy.
I always think we eat for energy (and to continue living) AND to enjoy. Normally, when I don’t get the 2nd part, I will go and buy something for my tongue. A chocolate bar perhaps. Highly sour candy perhaps.
Despite the food, we had a good chat especially on worship.
I seldom eat out. I normally buy my lunch and eat in. I want to avoid smoke and I feel safer near to a washroom.
I remembered the previous day when I was scheduled to lead worship. I was pacing back and forth when the announcements were made by Pastor Michael prior to the worship. I led the 1st service without much problem.t I was ok, I told myself. But my mind told me otherwise. After Pastor Michael handed me the mic, I stepped down almost immediately and told him I needed to go to the toilet and requested him to open the time for testomonies, etc. Then, in a bold act (which did not turn out to be foolish), I decided I could go throught it and I did.
It could be butterflies in the stomach. It could be irritable bowel syndrome. It could be psychological. It could be a spiritual attack / test. It could also be cancer. Or it could have something to do with my diet. I don’t dare to take breakfast unless we are having it next block from the office. I don’t think it’s due to anxiety or nervousness. I can go up to address lots of people without any stage fright. I have beed doing that since my school days.
Well, I am not nervous. I cannot remember the last time I was. Perhaps it was the long hours from 10 p.m. 09 Jan 1994 to noon 10 Jan 1994 when I waited in UH (now UMMC) for Jesse to be delievered. I am seldom shocked. Car accidents, thunder, etc. don’t startle me.
I remember when I was younger, I don’t even dare to go to the kitchen to take a drink. When I got to know God better, I dare to walk to the kitchen in the dark to get water. (God bless me with a good night vision.) There are many stories to tell, including the one when I was this close to step on a pile of broken glass. My barefoot was perhaps touching them when I stopped. That saved it from getting hundreds of (painful) holes.
Due to this condition, I normally don’t eat when I have to do something important, like a demo (in my previous jobs) or when I travel long distance. I have not been having breakfast on Sundays since many years ago. Fasting is good.
Let me repeat, I am not nervous.
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