Now what is such a testosterone filled title doing in a family friendly blog?!

First of all, I think there’s a little boy in every man who just loves to kick-butt. And if he cannot do it, he’ll let a kick-butt kind of actor do it on his behalf. This kick-butt actor’s name is Jason Statham, and this kick-butt movie is the Killer Elite. 

Now, I know this movie is a little violent and even though the swear words are minimal (well, at least compared to The Departed on our Malaysian cinemas), I have to say with full disclaimer, it’s a pretty darn good movie for men to watch.

Jason Statham plays a man that I think we can all identify with. He has a job. He does it really well. But he hates his job. Only difference between him and the ordinary Joe, he’s a professional hitman (surprise, surprise!). 

I really like Jason Statham because he’s always playing the anti-hero-hero. He’s always the guy who has to do the dirty work but deep inside him he has some kind of moral compass and conviction that makes him the good guy. I think this really speaks of most men. We often do work we hate. But we have food to put on the table, don’t we? 

In this movie, our man plays Danny who has given up his career because he just can’t take killing any more. But alas, his friend Hunter (played by Robert DeNiro. You can always tell a movie is good when he’s around!) got himself into a mess and Danny takes it upon himself to get his friend out of it. But that means he has to do what he hates to do, kill again. I mean, if this was the only way you could save your best friend, would you do it? It’s a question I find hard to answer.

I won’t spoil the rest of the show for you, but here’s the biggest takeaway I got from it. In the middle of the movie, the man who recruited Danny said to him

“You are a killer, that’s who you are”

“No, that’s what I do. That’s not who I am.”

I found this resonating in me very much. Is my job dictating who I am? Am I identified with my job title? Does what I own or the skills I have define me?

I am taken back to the beginning of time, and I will always remember the verse in the Bible that says “God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being”. Here we see the key identity of man, that he was nothing but dust until God Himself gave him life. God then gives the man purpose, to tend to the garden of Eden and even gave him a wife to love. 

God is the one who gives me identity. I am because He is. Wow. 

The problem is the “I do” part. I am inherently bad. I have done stuff I’m ashamed off. I may not murder, rape or rob, but I have done things most people won’t believe little-O-me am capable of. How do I get rid of this identity of what I shall call “SIN” in my life? That is just exactly what Danny’s problem was. He is haunted by what he has done and although he says that is NOT who he is, nothing he can do or think can remove the fact he has taken lives of other people, innocent or not.

So herein lies the great divide. I know God has given me identity, but I also know I cannot obtain that identity because of the sins of my life. Mankind’s identity was lost ever since Adam decided to take a bite of that forbidden fruit. And man has tried to fix that identity ever since.

We tried everything. We built empires, only to see it crumble. We make millions, only to see other people squander it when we die. We even tried religion and good works, but how much good works do we really have to do before we can be right with the Maker Himself again?!

I think it’s clear that the only way to have my identity restored, is through the One who gave it in the first place. I simply cannot do it by my own power. What’s this “Way” that God Himself made? Stay tuned to next article! 

As for now, let me just say that the movie Killer Elite is one excellent man-movie. Watch it beyond the action and the exciting plot and ask those tough questions. Every man’s killer elite questions.

This was posted in my other blog in November 2008, which I thought I would repost here instead. Enjoy!

I looked up as I walked towards the building near where I worked in the heart of Kuala Lumpur today. The building is owned by the Managing Director of my group of companies, which is a well know company here.

I was to go to the Penthouse of the building to hand something to my colleague who was attending a meeting there with the MD on a big project we are all working on.

At the ground floor, I was greeted by the guards. Being an employee of a subsidiary company, I was allowed in. I took the elevator up right to the very top and two giant wooden doors stood in front of me as the elevator opened. The doors are secured by an access panel which I do not have the appropriate level of access.

***

This particular group of companies I work in is a part of a family business. The MD and all the directors are related. The MD has a first born son, which I shall call Isaac. Isaac is young, but clearly has his father’s talents in him as he leads my particular subsidiary company as our Deputy CEO. I personally have not seen the MD, but I’ve worked with Isaac many times and found him a genuinely nice person, even though he is the son of a billionaire. 

Today’s walk down the road to the Penthouse made me wonder. I have never seen the MD before. I’ve heard a lot about him. I’ve read about him. I wondered, how would it be like to meet him? To talk to him? How would he treat me, a lowly employee of his thousands? Would he talk to me? Would he ignore me? Worse, would he scold me and belittle me should I say something wrong?

What must I do, to be given the privilege to see him? Let’s see…

1. Work up the corporate ladder to Director level

2. Quit my job and be a billionaire businessman and find him at a golf course

3. Be adopted or married into his family

4. Be friends with Isaac and get introduced to his father

From the looks of things, option 1 will take a few years if I’m good enough. Option 2, well, no. Option 3, hmmm… I don’t think I’m quite ready to marry again (one is enough! hahaha…). Option 4. Perhaps, just perhaps, this is possible.

***

Sometimes in life, we look up and try to find God in the sky. What’s he really like up there? He must be kinda busy right? To rule the Universe and all that stuff. Like who am I but one of the 6,000,000,000,000++ people on earth?

Yet, sometimes, I just feel that I need to connect to that great God up there.

But at the same time, I don’t feel like meeting this God. There’s just so much rubbish in my life that just thinking of seeing him scares me! If I was God, I would throw me out at the sight of me. God is after all holy.

Then I remember. I remember that God did say He has a Son. Ah… the Son. I remember what the Bible said about Him. That His Son, came down to our level here on Earth and became one of us. It also says that, we have access to God because of His Son.

You see, Jesus the Son of God came down about 2000 years ago. He lived among us. He felt the pains we felt. The temptations we go through. The sorrow. The loneliness. And He did it without sin. And in the process of doing so, Jesus made friends with the people on Earth. He said that if we are no longer servants, but His friends. 

However, I remember that God is holy. We can’t go to him just yet. We need to be cleaned. And there’s no way we can be cleaned, for sin must be punished. God is just.

So here’s where we see the Son, doing what we cannot do. He sacrificed His live for me. Yes. He died in pain so that I may see His Father. If we accept Jesus, He accepts us. And when He accepts us, His Father accepts us.

What does that mean to me? It means God has given me the access card to His “Penthouse”. The Bible said, to come boldly to the throne of Grace. I can walk in to meet the Father, because of the Son. I became a child of God, adopted to be His child through Jesus.

God is love. God is kind. He gives grace to the undeserving, and gives mercy to those deserving punishment. How glad I am of that!

She laid her hands on her Gong Gong. Closing her eyes and with all seriousness she started

“Dear Gohd, (baby talk)… Gong Gong… (baby talk)… pray… (baby talk)… Jesh… (baby talk)… Amen!”.

Her grandfather has been sick for a week and mommy and baby went to visit him. Mommy then asked baby to pray for him that God will heal him. And she did just that.

Guess what? A day after that, Gong Gong call mommy and told her that he’s totally healed! No more coughs which was bugging him for a week!

***

I posted earlier about an article I read about “Faith of a Child”. I truly believe that children has a very special place in God’s heart. I mean, if they have such a special place in our hearts, what more God? :)

The Little Children and Jesus (Luke 18:15-17 (NIV))

 15 People were also bringing babies to Jesus for him to place his hands on them. When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. 16 But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. 17 Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

Jesus said that the kingdom of God belongs to children or people with faith like a child. I have to say that children really have faith. They take everything you say as the truth. And because that is so true, that is why it is so important to start your child to pray young. I thank my wife Mei Ling for starting this habit of prayer with my daughter. Apart from the fact a 2 year old looks so cute trying to be serious while praying, there is so much spiritual power in that small frame because of their, shall I say, extreme faith. If you tell her to pray for Gong Gong to feel better, she will naturally believe he will get better. And God will honor that.

Today, my wife and I try praying with her every night before she goes to bed. After her parents pray, we will ask her if she would like to pray. And she normally goes straight to business and prays for her favorite cousin, Jo Jo and her other cousins and family. I encourage you to spend some time and show you child how to do it. Remember, to a child, most things are caught, not taught!

I found this very interesting article written by a guy called Jon. It spoke to me about how we as adult should have child-like faith in God. Hope he doesn’t mind me reproducing his post here coz all contact forms in his page seem to be off :)

http://www.jonsplace.org/rel/faith.htm

The Bible says we must be like a child to enter the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 18:2-4). Just what does that mean?! I’ve heard people say this means we must have the faith of a child, but what does that mean? Here’s the straight scoop, through a little story from my past:

I remember my daughter when she began toddling, then walking. She was a little bundle of energy! Our house was her whole world. She didn’t know what was outside it, at least not past her yard. She didn’t understand the vastness and complexity of what was beyond her own little world.

Well, she and I began going for walks around the neighborhood, ranging far and wide. Once the house was out of sight, she could not return on her own. She was lost. She had no idea where to go or what to do, or even if she was safe.

Yet as we crossed one street after another, she held my hand and knew deep in her heart that she was safe. She knew her father loved her and would always do what was best for her. She knew her father would protect her from all harm and guide her in the best way to go, every single time. All she had to do was hold his hand and do what he told her to do and she would have fun along the way, whether she knew where she was going or not!

She didn’t get scared or hesitate. She embraced the trip down strange new streets as an adventure, with full confidence in her father. That’s how Jesus said we should be; like a child. It’s called faith.

***

I lay on a chair awaiting my turn. Like a man awaiting his death sentence. Around me were rows of people lying down with their hands stretched open. Blood oozing into a bag. I was at a local church a blood donation drive. Mei Ling has always tried to donate her blood whenever possible as she believed she was saving lives. I agree wholeheartedly with her, as long as it’s not me donating. But on that day, against all odds, I decided to give it a try, and it proved to be a terrible decision. Sitting on the chair I was awaiting my turn to have my blood pressure checked before the actual donation. And deep inside my guts, all I felt was my lunch trying to come up of my esophagus. I was so nauseated about the thought, I literally was turning pale. The thought of blood literally made me sick and that was what saved me from the blood donation that day. The nurse declared that I had very low blood pressure and advised me to see a doctor instead. I never knew fear can make you lose blood pressure, but I was glad to have escaped the gallows!

That was three years ago.

***

As the doctor pushed the torso, I looked and recorded every moment of the event. Blood drenched on the doctor’s gloves, but yet I thought nothing of it. I’ve seen in movies and how fathers pass out seeing the blood. Not that I have overcome my fear of blood, but the overwhelming thought of being part of this miracle overtook the fear in me. Looks like Hollywood was wrong (again)! 

Then I saw the doctor pull out a little leg from the womb. And then plop came a small red creature covered with blood, wriggling around with LIFE! My heart felt a sensation I have never felt before (and probably never will ever feel again). A sensation of awesome wonder and gratitude. And a sense of hope, excitement and of a beautiful future. And that a child, MY child is born on to the earth. After 9 months, from a single act of love came forth a living creature with my form and my image. And I knew my life was truly changed, from that moment onward.

The doctor quickly cut off the umbilical chord (I did wonder why wasn’t I given the honors, but perhaps that would have caused me to pass out…) and while he was doing that, I quickly checked to see if my baby was really a girl. Yup! No little dangly thing! And she was presented to Mei Ling, who only had the ability to turn her head to see her new born daughter. I later found out she had hardly had a second to look at her before our daughter was brought to the paediatrician. I promptly followed the paed, all the while taking record of all that happened. Evangeline, my new born daughter was placed on little bed where they cleaned her and checked her. She was giving the cry which all newborns give, the helpless and at the mercy of other people kind of cry. As she was crying, I called out to her “baby, it’s daddy here” as I have done while she is in her mother’s womb. And a wonderful thing happened, she stopped crying for a few seconds and I believe she recognized my voice.

It’s been two and a half years since this day happened. Since I first met my daughter Evangeline. Since I fell in love with her. I am reminded of how God, in His great wonder created me as a person, even though I was born helpless, He saw me through His loving Fatherly eyes and accepted me to be His child. Going through the experience of child birth (even though mostly as a spectator) has thought me how to appreciate life from the beginning and really how God sees me. That He made me in His image and He looks at me as how I look at my daughter. Full of Love. Full of Joy. Full of Hope.

***

My father told me not to be afraid. And if I managed to get through this, he’ll buy me a new Lego toy. I was nine. My cupboard and mind was mostly filled with this fantastic plastic building blocks from Denmark. What would a nine years old boy know about going for a surgery. It was my first and only surgery I’ve ever been through. It’s nothing to shout about, though kinda embarrassing to tell what surgery I had. Let’s just say it’s a different kind of C surgery for young boys. Not common among Chinese, but mandatory among my Malay friends. I was pushed into a cold rooms with many people wearing masks. Around me, I saw big pump like machines which seems like giant chinese lanterns which I used to play when I was a child. As I lay there, I saw seven bright lights above me and a head which silhouetted brought me a mask to inhale. I felt so uncomfortable with the smell I told the nurse I didn’t like it. She then proceeded with poking me with a needle instead and she asked me to count to ten. I remembered only counting to three…

***

As I walked through the double paneled doors which swung opened in the Assunta surgery room, I saw a wide open room much like the one I remembered two decades earlier. The cold room literally gave me the chills. With at least 10 people in there, I saw them working on long bed with my wife lying on it. I went forward and a doctor with surgery mask walked up to me to greet me. He introduced himself as the anesthetist and though I can only see his eyes, he gave a very assuring smile and said that she is alright. They have already given her the local anesthetic so though she feels nothing neck down, she is conscious. 

I was allowed only to go up to the front of the bed where her head lay. There I saw my wife laying helpless and in the hands of the obstetrician and his nurses. I looked into her eyes to let her know everything is ok, but I am not sure how much she can see me. I peeped into the other side where the doctor was performing the surgery. I could see he was using some tool which looked much like a soldering gun from my electronic engineering school, which when in contact with the skin emitted some kind of visible gas. I took out my phone video camera to document the process. A nurse tried to stop me, but my obstetrician told her to let me do it. Such was the confidence this man had in his skills! And a few short seconds later, he started pushing the stomach, trying to maneuver his way to let my baby out to the world… (to be continued)