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This Passing World

November 16, 2011 Leave a comment Go to comments

Raku Japanese Restaurant & Bar, Greenwood Avenue Lukewarm water, Raku Japanese Restaurant & Bar, Greenwood Avenue
Not complimentary appetizers, Raku Japanese Restaurant & Bar, Greenwood Avenue Sashimi, Raku Japanese Restaurant & Bar, Greenwood Avenue
Salmon skin rolls, Raku Japanese Restaurant & Bar, Greenwood Avenue Garlic fried rice, Raku Japanese Restaurant & Bar, Greenwood Avenue
Grilled fugu fish, Raku Japanese Restaurant & Bar, Greenwood Avenue Beef fillet cubes, Raku Japanese Restaurant & Bar, Greenwood Avenue

After an indifferent Japanese dinner at Raku Japanese Restaurant & Bar,

Othello's Cafe Bar, Greenwood Avenue Othello's Cafe Bar, Greenwood Avenue
Othello's Cafe Bar, Greenwood Avenue Floor tiles, Othello's Cafe Bar, Greenwood Avenue
Saint Clair Sauvignon Blanc, Othello's Cafe Bar, Greenwood Avenue Chocolate fondant, Othello's Cafe Bar, Greenwood Avenue

we shared a glass of Saint Clair Sauvignon Blanc from Marlborough (S$10) and a rather cakey chocolate pudding in the empty Othello’s Cafe Bar (facebook) on Greenwood Avenue. Almost translucent against white, the SB was clean, with crisp acidity well-balanced with refreshing sweetness – probably good for a weekend picnic in the Singapore heat but a stark contrast to the sombre subject of our discussion.

So it seems our friends are of the age when they start to write/re-write their wills, putting some of us down as the executors of their estate, with married ones appointing others of us as legal or spiritual guardians to their children.

Wasn’t it only yesterday that we were drinking and dancing and fagging in some beach hut in Bintan, and in the early hours, attempting to stumble back to our bungalow, but not quite making it, content to lie on the sand under the stars, laughing and philosophising into the sea-breeze?

Sometimes it seems that if we could just get our fingernails in a crack in the veneer of weighty respectability and responsibility and tear that thickened skin off, we would find those healthy carefree friends again inside.

Wishful conjecture of course, and in any case, in light of ultimate reality, undesirable.

When This Passing World is Done (Robert Murray McCheyne)
When this passing world is done,
When has sunk yon radiant sun,
When I stand with Christ on high,
Looking o’er life’s history,
Then, Lord, shall I fully know,
Not till then, how much I owe.

When I stand before the throne,
Dressed in beauty not my own,
When I see Thee as Thou art,
Love Thee with unsinning heart,
Then, Lord, shall I fully know,
Not till then, how much I owe.

Chosen not for good in me,
Wakened up from wrath to flee,
Hidden in the Saviour’s side,
By the Spirit sanctified,
Teach me, Lord, on earth to show
By my love how much I owe.

Oft I walk beneath a cloud,
Dark as midnight’s gloomy shroud;
But, when fear is at its height,
Jesus comes, and all is light;
Blessed Jesus, bid me show
Doubting saints how much I owe.

When the praise of heav’n I hear,
Loud as thunders to the ear,
Loud as many waters’ noise,
Sweet as harp’s melodious voice,
Then, Lord, shall I fully know,
Not till then, how much I owe.

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  1. November 25, 2011 at 11:59 am

    excellent poem (hymn?) I need to live more in light of what i owe. thanks for the reminder.

    btw, u heard of keith and kirsten getty? love their contemporary hymns. more melodic than the emu ones i find. and apparently some hymns have like 50 versions before they settle on the exact wording. like that kind of seriousness with handling of God’s word.

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