Good Gifts.

I almost bought it.

An embarrassingly whacked-up roadbike going for an incredibly low price. It was a terrible fit, and even the owner told me, ” Yup, it doesn’t fit you. You ought a better bike. I bought this at… someplace in the east, why don’t you check out the shop and buy a brand new one? It’s very affordable there.”

They always say: Doubt means don’t. Be patient to wait on God and you won’t be disappointed.

Wait I did, and what a surprise it was to know the shop was a mere 5 minute walk from my own church- a dingy-looking shack of a shophouse tucked safely away in a corner, owned by a wrinkled, elderly couple. There were lots of bicycles packed like sardines in a can, from child-sized to adult-sized ones, with toddlers’ tricycles and flaccid tyre tubings hanging from the dusty, cobwebbed ceilings. Only a tiny passageway parted the sea of bicycles and ended in a dark alley and gaudy altar at the back of the shop. Everything was coated with a thin film of dust.

“Xiao mei (little girl)”, the old wrinkled lady in spunky shoes said, “You looking for something?”

” A roadbike,” I said, maybe a little disdainfully. This really wasn’t my idea of Cool. All the other roadbike shops I’d visited were air-conditioned, had brandnames, and bikes arranged proudly with military neatness.

” Anikuan ah (‘Oh I see’ in Hokkien)? Orh, I know. You still studying right? U- NEE-VER-SEE-TI arh? Ya, I know, very busy one- good to cycle to relek (relax). But you not working, not er… pro… er… PRO-FE-SHUN-AL one, don’t need expensive one. I like your mother like that, haha, won’t want my daughter to spend big big on roadbike also… “

I liked her immediately. ” Ya, okay,” I said. My hopes weren’t high. She brought me to the back of the shop, as I treaded carefully over the tools strewn all over the floor.

A month ago, I nearly bought an eight year-old second-hand roadbike from a friend for the same amount of money I felt God challenging me to give to the needy, nearly got conned to purchase a branded, two-thousand dollar bike from a slick salesman, nearly bought the cheapest roadbike which was in terrible shape… but I had no peace.

I wanted to wait to figure out what God was trying to teach me through His series of niggly nudges. I struggled with the idea of buying myself a vehicle, something I thought to be no more than an extravagant indulgence and sport I could do without, something which I thought was vying for my loyalty to the cause of sponsoring disadvantaged children for the next year.

As with all things, it was the process which counted. It taught me about myself, and revealed the deep things in my heart about money.

I left the shop, still torn in two. I considered letting the whole idea go, forgetting about it. But the freedom from overcoming my fear of riding after a decade of hiding was a powerful force. After much struggle, I nearly put it aside when:

” Hey Jia, you free tomorrow?”

“What’s up?” I said listlessly, burying my head in my book of orthopedic surgery.

” Well, I don’t really know what to get you for Christmas… Can I get you a roadbike?”

“Huh…” I looked up, bewildered. “Are you joking?” I asked incredulously.

And then sheepishly, “No lah, it’s okay. I’m fine, really. It’s an expensive sport,” before biting my lip and smacking myself for refusing such a good offer in my face.

“But I really don’t know what to get you… And I think it’d be nice, anyway. You’re considering joining a duathlon, next year, aren’t you? I’ll take ya after your exams end? The Christmas weekend?”

“Wow. Thanks… …” I say, still in shock. “That sounds… like a pretty good idea.”

God works in unexpected ways. Now I have a brand-new roadbike bought in good measure, thoroughly thought through, at a very affordable price, and the rest of my savings to sponsor whoever and as many kids as I want.

This season, I learnt a little about how much money matters, and doesn’t.

In one month, I lost my favorite pair of ear-rings (my most precious pair), my watch whose bracelet strap had loosened and finally got dropped off outside (the cheaper one I got after giving away my Swatch), and two hundred dollars, when I had to repay a friend for damages after an accident. Though shielded from the financial turmoil of the world, this month, I’ve been experiencing a little of my own economic recession.

In the same month, I learnt- how money has such a hold over people, how it is not evil in itself, but has the power to be so. How an attachment to it can throw people into depression- just lately, I learnt of someone who committed suicide during the recession, and another who had her home burglared. How our stewardship of it reflects our love for people around us, and God.

I learnt- that truly, no money is our own. I didn’t mean to lose my things, surely. And the friend who kept the most meticulous tabs on his accounts had to be the one to have his credit cards stolen and savings lost forever overnight.

We try to keep, try to hoard, try to be in control, but are ignorant of how little power we truly have. And through it all, I think I learnt a little of what Trust really is. It means trusting in God to provide in His time, even if I would really like a bike now. It means going through the process of releasing things, and realising the Important things in life which have eternal value. It means losing something precious and feeling liberated, nonetheless.

As silly as it sounds, it still aches when I think about my ear-rings. Ah, how girls form friendships with their jewelry! But there was a tiny lesson there to be gleaned, nonetheless. Why do we hold on to what we cannot bring to heaven with us?

It reminded me of Uncle Ravin* suffering from congenital chronic lung disease who was clinically depressed. Bald and indian, with a large bushy beard which would put a caveman to shame, I remembered him weeping as he told me how difficult it was to cope alone. When I’m sad, I like to read- sometimes I read the Bible, and going to church helps, he said. The next day, I passed him a book an uncle gave to me- Finding God in Unexpected Places by Philip Yancey. As I placed it in his arms, I flinched a little as I dreaded having to give away a gift. It was an old book, well read by my uncle, and I fingered it nostalgically. Almost pathetically, I left my address with him so he could mail it back to me. Let it go, I felt God say. Nothing you have is truly yours. Even YOU are mine. How I hate to give away gifts. But it was the only book I felt he really needed. He received it gratefully.

In the same month I lost my earrings, I received a beautiful crytal one from my mother as a gift. I put off buying the roadbike, had reached a point of considering letting it go, and a double blessing came upon me- both a brand-new roadbike and the ability to give to children I loved. I gave the book away and last month, opened a brown envelope sent to me by the same uncle and cried when I saw that exact same book inside.

Could you believe- that he had forgotten he had sent me that book previously, which he had owned for many years? The previous one had yellow pages. This time, he sent me a brand new one.

Tears streamed down my face as I learnt the lesson of letting go, of trusting in God’s provision, and the joy of receiving Good gifts from Him, gifts better than we could imagine. It is when we clutch on so tightly to what we have that it becomes impossible for God to bless us with something unthinkably better.

When we let go and trust, we often get something better, much to our surprise.

Thanks Mum, thanks Dad. For the ear-rings, and roadbike respectively.

And thank you God. For the best gift of all- for teaching me how to Wait, and simply, Trust.

” If you… know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will (God) give good gifts to those who ask Him!”

-Matthew 7:11