Good Maths.

I find it interesting to note, that laws in life very often don’t obey logical rules. We find it groundbreaking to have discovered mathematical equations and science, only to find that life doesn’t quite follow the equation, not always at least. For it baffles my mind to understand how the more work one does in God, the more refreshed one can be; the more we give, the more we are blessed. The math just doesn’t add up right.

Grandpa Zhou has been teaching me, that life in God rewards us exponentially.

A few months back, Grandpa Zhou went to see the doctor. He was running a fever, was referred to the hospital and eventually given a medical check-up which revealed he had anaemia, benign prostate hyperplasia (an old man’s disease where the prostate becomes enlarged) and some gastric disease. He had refused to go for follow-up. “Why should I go?” he said defiantly to me in mandarin, ” I don’t have the money- this consultation fee cannot be reclaimed from Medisave (a form of government funding), and there’s nothing seriously wrong with my health. I refuse to go!”

I was firm with him, and emphasized to him the consequences of not taking regular medication, of the tens of thousands of dollars an operation would cost if he neglected the comparatively little cost he ought to spend on seeing the doctor. “You take this, Grandpa Zhou. I want you to see the doctor. Promise me, you WILL see the doctor regularly and take whatever medication he gives to you.”

A few weeks later, he showed me a stack of receipts. He wanted me to know where the money had gone, wanted to thank my family. “The doctor says, I’ve to take medication from the hospital every 3 months now.”

Though I knew the answers, I asked him, “Tell me, what are these pills for? What do they do and what is benign prostate hyperplasia?” because I thought it important to find out how well he understood his condition and need for medicine. I looked at those hospital receipts and pills he handed to me and realised suddenly who I was becoming- a doctor, for all the medicines he showed me were that which we had studied about, and I saw their great relevance. His medicine made my study of it alive. It was suddenly at that point that Grandpa Zhou made me realise, that I have a role to play in life, that we all do- that more than a friend, or a passer-by, I have a role to play in society and a responsibility to the poor, the needy, and my community.

Grandpa Zhou has taught me how absolutely precious money is, something not every urban girl, especially myself, might understand to a deep extent. My eyes are opened to see the price of clothes and accessories in terms of what it can buy him, and it makes me reconsider my spending. The meaning of money takes new shape each time I meet him, and I wish it would be shaped more.

I once had someone scold me for giving money to people like him. I argue that our healthcare system isn’t perfect. People fall through the cracks, defer their follow-up because of financial reasons, develop more severe illnesses and end up creating a greater burden for the healthcare sector. Our world isn’t perfect. Giving people money isn’t perfect either-it doesn’t always solve problems, but the little of what we can do ought not to deter us from that little which we must do. What did that money mean to me? A new skirt, another pair of shoes, sending my bike to be serviced? And what would it mean to him? Better health, an improved sense of well-being, the ability to see a doctor.

He quivered a little, as if holding back tears before accepting it. “I’m so… touched. How can I accept this from you?”

As I sat with Grandpa Zhou on the dirty train steps, looking at the all-too-familiar print on hospital paper-his medical discharge summary and reading his diagnoses, my face was stung by his words. Nothing but the love of God for him possessed me when I took out the last note from my pocket to hand over to him, and how my face stung. For there we were, myself in jeans from Allure and a top from Zara, shoes from Charles & Keith and a bag from Aldo (all gifts/discounted items but branded nonetheless) sitting next to Grandpa Zhou who smells like he hasn’t bathed in days, in a paper-thin shirt, with a bag picked up from a dumpster and feet which are black, bare and callused. There we were, with him sitting by the dirty steps of a train station playing his rusty harmonica while I go home and pay a couple of hundred dollars to take lessons for my flute exam; There we were, with him living in a home stacked from floor to ceiling with rubbish while I sneak back to my comfy glass condominium right across the spot from where he sits and plays; There we were, with him thanking me profusely and myself shifty and embarrassed.

He is asking me how he can accept the gift from me. How?

And all I am thinking is- how can he not?

Life is like that. God uses the meek to shame the strong. He uses the base to shame what seems to be the crown. The more we give, the more we are blessed. For all my education and common sense, He uses Grandpa Zhou to teach me these lessons of money and life so succinctly. God blows all mathematical equations to smitherines.

This is something I have been trying to tell Grandpa Zhou for months-that to receive and to live more abundantly, he really needs to let go of all that trash in his home, stacked in rows from floor to ceiling, with nothing but a one foot walkway to enter his home- sideways. I learnt, during my Psychiatric module, that hoarding is a mental illness in its own right. A respiratory hazard (think of the dust) and fire hazard, too.

On National Day during celebration at church, I was thrilled to see my writing about Grandpa Zhou published in the bi-annual magazine. Thrilled, because I love to write and see writing reach people, touch lives. Today I told Grandpa Zhou about it, told him how much he had taught me, then I slipped in the question of whether or not he had cleared his life of his “junk”.

“Let me tell you something,” he said in mandarin, “ People like us are different from people like YOU. We have things in ‘class A’ and ‘class B’. Clothes in ‘class A’ are decent clothes I can wear to church or meet people, ‘class B’ are my rag-clothes. If I give away my ‘class B’ items, my ‘class A’ items will be worn out too quickly!”

Class A and Class B- to think he had to categorise his belongings like that sobered me. To that I said jokingly, “But you have a lot of ‘class C’ items, you know… I saw a HUGE mountain of toys and trinkets when I visited your place the last time… “

For more than a year, I had been trying to convince him to throw away his items so he could be more fulfilled. For more than a year, he defiantly argued that releasing his “treasures” would make him lesser. So you can imagine how much my eyes lit up when an idea popped into my head, “Don’t you think there’re kids out there, poorer than you, who would long to have your ‘class C’ items? Why don’t you pass them to me to pass to some kids in Sri Lanka when I go for a mission trip next week. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Oh… … okay. That would be… … possible.”

Hooray! Slowly, slowly, bit by bit, I’m having faith that he will start to clear his home.

Grandpa Zhou has taught me more than he will ever know. In the article I wrote for church, I wrote about how much I disliked him at the beginning, but how God’s power really showed me how love can transform not only him, but myself too. Through his little sharings at the dirty steps of a train station, he has pointed me to the unimaginably mindblowing laws of God which will forever baffle me, are still baffling me now. Like how God uses the despised to shame the proud. Like how He fills us up to overflowing when we give out. Like how He would love and choose someone like me. Like how life with Him is infinitely more fulfilling than hoarding anything else in this world- money, junk or otherwise.

I don’t understand. The night before my final exams for O&G (Obstetrics and Gynaecology), I sat down to thank God for what He had done in my life. A year or two ago, I was in winter, unable to eat, sleep, study or concentrate at school, work or serve others much. This season, however, God really brought me to tears as He showed me how faithful He is to restore us, and doubly too. One mini-triathlon, a flute exam, O&G final exams (it is our heaviest module in our entire curriculum), additional ministry at church and bible study leading at varisty, a mission trip to Sri Lanka this week, sharing about Kitesong at service, a charity ride, amongst other commitments within a span of 2 months should’ve driven me crazy, worn me out. Knowing my anxious self, I know that it should’ve stressed me out completely.

But God has amazed me- for He assured me that He planned for all of this to happen so He could prove how BIG He is when we feel so small and overwhelmed. Because when we lean on His strength, impossible things become possible, exhaustion turns to refreshment, work turns into play. I couldn’t believe how joyful and excited I was actually taking the O&G exams-they were tough yes, (the nervewracking final clinical exams involves us entering 10 different rooms to handle a scenario given to us by an examiner and state verbally how we would manage the situation. You can fail based on simply 1 wrong step of management) but I enjoyed the experience thoroughly. Everything He has laid on my lap, He has provided a double portion of joy. Till now, I can’t figure out how I got through the past month. I have never eaten, slept, worked and played so hard with so much energy and joy in my entire life.

What a great mathematician, to be able to use a mere 2 fish and 5 loaves into a meal sufficient to feed great multitudes, with leftovers even! Grandpa Zhou reminds me too, that God really blows our minds. Because in God’s kind of math, there are simply no logical explanations, only exponential answers- as long as we look up, and heavenward.