Vestiges of Pride

"Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" Matthew 6:19-21

I was looking at the TV a few days ago, when they announced the death of Yasser Arafat. And there, going through the TV screens were video shots of Arafat's last days alive. There was Arafat, waving to supporters as he was lifted into the airplane to be brought to France for treatment. Affable smile I would add.

And then it hit me. I was brought back to the time when my grandfather was frail, ail and dying. Losing hope against recovering from some serious infections at that time. And so, like Arafat, Granpa was going around, waving and trying to shake the hands of friends he thought they were (when we went for dimsum in some place in Alor Setar) And it was heart breaking to see them reaching out to greet my uncle (the son of my Granpa) instead of Granpa himself. To most of them, Granpa was already an invalid, a man way past his prime time.

And it was at the bank when Granpa acted strange. There he was, withdrawing more than 10k in cash, and then passing me 6 k to keep in my pockets. My thoughts raced then. 'Why Granpa?', was the question I was asking myself. Was it to show he still had money?

And when I was going to leave Alor Setar, Granpa asked me in Hokkien, 'Do you have enough money to spend? Why not stay here a few more days?' I wanted to, really, but I was running broke after CF camp and the Perlis mission trip. Plus the fact my uncle was uneasy with me staying there, since I was one of Granpa's favorite grand sons. And there, on the spot, he tried passing me rm 500.

'Take it', Granpa told me. And he insisted on it a couple of times. Though, in the end, I did not, as I wanted to show Granpa that I was there not for his money, but for him. That I loved him for who he is and not how much he could give me. And when all these was happening, Uncle was uneasy and squirming in his seat.

But this is not a story on my family (not now though). As Yasser Arafat waved at the crowds as a man near the end of his life, the words, 'Vestiges of pride' flashed through this head of mine. Pride, cause at the end of our lives, we grasp on to what we think is significant to us, our lifetime achievements and hard work, thinking that's what the world cares too. And they will respect us for it

It was sad to not able to share with Granpa before he died. To show him, it's not about the money or fame after all, but Christ who lives in us. Nobody paid attention to him when he was dying anyway. Isn't it sad how the world works?

And at these occasions, I'm reminded of Christ, his love and his commandment to us all. 'Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit' Matthew 28:19. Isn't that much more important than trying to do what we think are the most important to us?

Someone once said, most of us spend our lifetime trying to climb up the ladder, only to find in the end that it's on the wrong side of the wall. Be it fame, riches or love (yes, love. Most people spend their lifetime trying to find dat elusive one, only to find none actually satisfies their soul), would you put God first above all?

God Bless~