Seen and Understood: For the Quiet Ones With Loud Inner Worlds

The Christian question I never wanted to ask out loud North Koreans aren’t cartoons. They aren’t headlines, or dark joke material, or characters in a dystopian movie we’ll never be part of. They’re people. And recently, I sat down and read more than I probably should have. First-hand escapee accounts. Starvation. Indoctrination. Families torn. Generations raised to fear, not dream. It wrecked me. And not in a neat, “wow I’m so grateful for what I have” kind of way. More like, I wanted to slam my laptop shut and shout at heaven. Why does God allow suffering? Why does He let this happen? And if you're reading this, you’ve probably asked it too. Maybe not about North Korea. Maybe about cancer. About that car crash. About something that still haunts you every night, while the rest of the world scrolls past and forgets. I used to feel so guilty even wondering about this. Like it made me less Christian. Less faithful. Less trusting. But I think that’s a lie. I think the real question i...

I once almost moved to Bali because I had a really good cup of coffee and the beach smelt like freedom. I stood there, arms stretched, hair tangled, heart pounding like a Hillsong bridge, and thought this is it . This is my destiny. I was ready to book a one-way ticket and start a coconut business called "Thy Will Be Done (on Earth as it is in Bali)." Fortunately, I didn't. Because five days later, I got a mild sunburn, a mosquito bit my eyelid, and I wanted to go home to my bed, my aircon, and my overpriced Singapore bubble tea. So… should I follow my emotions? Or not? Spoiler: sometimes they lead you to worship God in a field with tear-stained cheeks. Other times? They lead you to text your ex at 2:17am while eating cereal with your fingers. Welcome to the Christian life, where feelings are real, but not always right. And that, my friend, is where the plot thickens. What Are Emotions, Really? Emotions are not bad. They’re just not boss . They’re like children in...

The other day I caught myself rolling my eyes so hard they nearly flew out of my skull. Why? Because a Christian influencer I follow just casually posted a story of her in Italy, sipping espresso outside a picturesque chapel, captioned with something like, “just grateful Jesus led me here.” Meanwhile, I was trying to hear God’s voice over the sound of my neighbour drilling through concrete at 8am. And yes, I was wearing the same shirt three days in a row. So. There it was: the creeping jealousy. Not holy envy. Not admiration. Plain, green-eyed, low-key-hate-following jealousy. And it wasn’t just about the lifestyle or the opportunities. It was about her joy. Her clarity. Her call. Her collagen. It made me wonder: What happens when you're a Christian... and you're jealous of other Christians? It sounds petty. It feels embarrassing. But it’s a thing. A real, ugly, soul-squirmy thing. Jealousy? In this economy? You’d think being part of the family of God would feel like a...

What mixed signals, late-night texts, and God have in common. I’ve been friend-zoned by a Christian guy. And, plot twist: I’ve also been the one who got the unexpected “ Hey, I like you actually ” message from a close male friend. At this point, I feel like I’ve earned enough emotional air miles to write this blog post with free snacks included. So if you’ve ever found yourself in a Christian-flavoured situationship, you’re not alone. I’ve been there. More than once. There was a time (actually, multiple times) when I caught feelings for a guy in church who, at first glance, seemed like he might feel the same. I mean, daily texts, long conversations, spiritual banter, mutual Spotify sharing... the whole thing screamed “ maybe he likes me? ” But the minute I dared to hope, he’d casually remind me I was just a friend. A sister in Christ . The one he felt comfortable texting about everything and nothing but never actually pursuing. You know, the “I appreciate you so much” texts withou...