When a Jar Is Filled with Light

Sometimes, the simplest activity reveals the deepest truth.
A jar, a few words, and a group of growing hearts -- and suddenly, you begin to see what has been quietly formed over the years.

 

          On 28^th April morning in Butterworth, I stood before twelve young
lives—no longer children, yet not quite fully grown—whom we have walked with for more than eight years. Some of them came to us as primary school children; today, they are stepping into their senior high school years.

It was a farewell, but not one filled with sorrow.  Rather, it was a moment of gathering -- of seeing, of remembering, and of quietly celebrating what has been planted.

To mark the day, we played a simple game.

Each student was invited to take their name and fill a “jar” with positive words—one for each letter. At first, there was laughter, a little hesitation, and then… something began to unfold. Words came alive.

One boy, Jack, paused thoughtfully as he built his jar:
J – Joyful in spirit
A – Adventurous at heart
C – Caring toward others
K – Kind in every way

He looked up, almost surprised, and said,
“I didn’t know my name is so beautifully given by my parents.”

In that moment, something shifted—not just in him, but in all of us.

A name was no longer just a name.
It became a reflection of identity, of worth, of possibility.

          Then came a question that lingered longer than expected.

A girl, curious and sincere, asked:
“What about the negativity in our hearts? Are we going to squeeze them out of the jar?”

I smiled and said, “Of course.”

And then… silence.

Not an empty silence, but a full one.

One by one, they realised something surprising -- they could not easily find negative thoughts to name. It was as if, in that moment, their hearts had been so filled with goodness that there was no space left for anything else.

Then, one of the youngest boys spoke, with a simple honesty that touched us all:

“Teacher, you always pump in positive thinking… now it’s hard to figure them out.”

 

 The Lesson That Was Never Announced

“Teacher… now it’s hard to find negative thoughts.”
That one sentence stayed with me.
A farewell, a jar, and a lesson I will never forget

We never formally taught them, “Think positively.”

We never stood before them and said, “Fill your mind with good things.”

But over the years—through conversations, encouragement, correction, patience, and love—something had been quietly poured into them.

And today, we saw the evidence.

Not in perfect behaviour.
Not in grand achievements.
But in the condition of their hearts.

When the heart is consistently filled with what is good, it becomes difficult for what is negative to remain.

Perhaps life is not always about forcefully removing what is wrong within us.
Perhaps it is about faithfully, daily, filling our inner jar with what is right.

Kind words.
Truthful thoughts.
Encouragement.
Faith.
Love.

And over time, without even realising it, the darkness finds no room to stay.

A Quiet Farewell, A Lasting Seed

As we parted, I did not feel that we were losing them.  Instead, I felt that something had been entrusted into their lives—something they will carry forward, even when we are no longer there to “pump” it in.

Because now, they have learned to fill their own jars.

And perhaps that is the true work of love—
not just to guide for a season,
but to leave behind hearts that know how to stay full of light.

By the Poolside

 

By the Poolside
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The sun was warm, and the water shimmered like little pieces of glass dancing under the light. We sat at the edge of the pool with our feet dipped into the cool water. George’s arm rested around me, and I leaned comfortably against him, feeling safe in the simplest way.

He began tickling me at my waist, and I burst into laughter, the kind that makes your eyes close and your body lose balance. I told him to stop before I fell into the pool, but he only laughed harder. Instead of letting me slip away, he drew me closer and kissed me.

It was such a small moment, yet it felt like a whole lifetime of love wrapped into one gesture. No grand words. No special occasion. Just us, laughing like children, loving like husband and wife.

In that laughter, I often remembered this verse:

“A cheerful heart is good medicine.” — Proverbs 17:22

George used to say that joy keeps the heart young. And I believe he was right. Our laughter by the pool was not just playfulness — it was medicine for the soul.

Marriage life is not meant to be merely endured. It is meant to be lived lively and harmoniously, in teasing, laughter, and shared joy. Sometimes, the smallest playful moments are the ones that keep love warm and hearts young. 

(*P.S. Written from memories of our days together in the summer of 2021.) 

When the Lost Finds the Way Home

When the Lost Finds the Way Home
A small moment that reminded me of
the joy of returning.

Sometimes, a small unexpected moment at the door can quietly touch the heart. One evening, just as I was about to go out for groceries, a lost white cat appeared at my doorstep. 

At that moment, I did not know that this little lost cat would also awaken a memory from many years ago.

For a brief two hours, he became part of our home — and in that short time, he awakened memories of love, loss, and the quiet joy of finding what once seemed lost.

On the evening of March 4, 2026, at about 6:30 p.m., I was preparing to go out to buy some groceries. The moment I opened the door, Simon was standing there holding a beautiful white furry creature with a long tail — a lovely cat that looked like an Iranian or Turkish breed.

“Mom, it has been lost for two days!” Simon said, almost as if he were pleading with me. Mr. Pet-Cat-Lover had told him that he already had nine cats at home and could not keep another one.

Simon looked at me and asked gently, “Mom, could we take care of the cat for the time being?”

“Of course,” I replied. “We will keep it here for now. If the owner comes looking for it, we will return it.”

Simon smiled with relief.

“Great! You’re such a considerate boy,” I added with a smile.

That evening, I did not go grocery shopping after all. Instead, Mr. Pet-Cat-Lover brought us a big bag of cat food, a pet toilet, and two bowls — one for water and the other for food.

The moment Simon put the cat down, we realized it was a male cat. He was surprisingly friendly. He followed Simon into his room, then came out and followed me to the kitchen.

Because of him, my plans for the evening changed completely. Instead of going out, I stayed home to spend time with him.

Simon named him Shiro, a Japanese name often associated with the meaning “white,” sometimes symbolically linked to the image of a white wolf. Before giving him food, we gently tried to familiarize him with his new name.

“Shiro… come for your food… Shiro… Shiro…”

I took out my white rug and a basket to make a comfortable bed for him.

During those two hours with Shiro, memories of my beloved dog Honey quietly returned to me.

Many years ago, after Honey was lost, I drew a small sketch of her — perhaps to keep her close in my heart.

I drew this after she was lost, hoping somehow to hold on to the memory of her. 

I drew this after Honey was lost,
hoping somehow to hold on to the memory of her.

I remember that winter very clearly. I rode my bicycle through the cold streets, calling her name again and again.
Whenever I saw a white dog in the distance, my heart would suddenly jump with hope. I would slow down and call softly,
“Honey… Honey…”

Then I would walk closer, hoping to see the small birthmark on her back.

Many times it was not her. Each time I rode away with a quiet ache in my heart, whispering a small prayer that whoever might have found Honey would treat her kindly and take good care of her. 

Perhaps it was that same quiet memory of loss that made our brief time with this little cat feel even more precious.

I was still immersed in those memories when suddenly the doorbell rang.

For a brief moment, Simon and I looked at each other.

“Could it be…?” Simon said softly. I opened the door. 

Standing there was a lady with anxious eyes and hopeful expectation written all over her face. The moment she saw the cat, her face lit up with relief and joy. 

“Amiro!” she called.  We then realized that Amiro was the cat’s real name.

For a brief second, the cat lifted his head.

Then he immediately ran toward her, and the owner gently kissed him. 

In that instant, the worry on her face melted into pure happiness. She held Amiro close, clearly grateful that he had been safe.

Simon and I felt an unexpected warmth in our hearts. Returning Amiro to his owner brought us a quiet joy — the kind that comes from knowing that something lost had finally found its way home.

In that quiet moment, a simple truth gently settled in my heart: the joy of finding what was lost is always deeper than we expect, and it touches every human heart.

This small “lost and found” moment reminded me of a beautiful story in the Bible — the parable of the prodigal son. Just as the father waited patiently for his lost son to return home, our Lord Jesus also waits lovingly for His children to come back to Him.

“For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” — Luke 15:24

And when the lost finally return, heaven rejoices — just as we did that evening when Amiro found his way back home.

In that quiet moment, I was reminded that the joy of finding what was lost touches every human heart.

Perhaps every small “lost and found” moment in life quietly reminds us of a greater hope — that one day, nothing precious will ever be lost again.

Sometimes God reminds us of His greater truths through the smallest moments of daily life — even through a lost cat that finds its way home.

— Georgia

When Kindness Lingers for a Few Seconds

 When Kindness Lingers for a Few Seconds

The Quiet Moments That Touch Our Hearts

It was only a few seconds, yet it stayed in my heart 

much longer than the moment itself.

What does it really mean to be touched?

Is it always about grand gestures, dramatic rescues, or unforgettable milestones? I don’t think so. More often than not, the moments that warm our hearts most deeply arrive quietly—almost unnoticed by the world, yet unforgettable to the one who receives them.

To be touched is to feel seen.

It is that subtle realization that someone, even for a brief second, chose to care.

Think about the deliveryman on a stormy afternoon. The rain falls relentlessly, soaking his uniform, dripping from his hair, blurring his vision. He could easily leave your parcel at the gate, take a quick photo for proof, and rush off to his next stop. After all, he has dozens more deliveries waiting.

But instead, he runs to your door. He knocks. When you open it, slightly startled by the heavy rain, he says gently, “The package is at your door—be careful when you step out, the floor is slippery.”

In that moment, it is no longer just a delivery. It becomes care.

He did not have to say those words. He was not required to warn you. Yet he chose to go the extra mile—not in distance, but in thoughtfulness. That small instinct of kindness lingers far longer than the parcel itself.

And what about the food delivery rider on a quiet night?

It is almost midnight. The streets are dark, most windows unlit. An order appears on his screen: a simple meal, delivered to a small apartment where an elderly man lives alone. He could leave the food at the door and leave silently.

But instead, when the old man opens the door, he smiles and says, “Uncle, still awake? Hope you enjoy your meal.”

Maybe they exchange only a few sentences. Maybe the rider waits just long enough to make sure the man carries the food safely inside. It takes less than a minute.

Yet inside that small apartment, something changes.

The house is still quiet. The meal is the same. But the loneliness softens. A human voice filled the space. Someone noticed him. Someone lingered.

To be touched is not about spectacle. It is about presence.

On life’s long road, we all carry unseen burdens—tiredness, worries, grief, or simply the heaviness of being alone. A warm word, a thoughtful reminder, a few extra seconds of attention—these are gentle hands that steady us.

Sometimes, being touched means realizing that goodness still exists in ordinary people doing ordinary jobs. That compassion does not need a stage. That kindness does not require applause.

And perhaps the most beautiful truth is this:
On our journey, there will always be someone willing to pause for us—even if only for a few seconds.

And maybe, without even realizing it, we are also that someone for another soul.

That is what it truly means to be touched.

A Little Angel in Worship

 

A Little Angel in Worship

https://youtube.com/shorts/PsxSfIpOGx8?si=QG9n39N0gqAGIzv6

Last Sunday, a little girl named Jaine lifted her angel wings and danced in worship, her every movement flowing like a prayer. It was not the first time; week after week, she comes before the Lord with a heart so pure, her joy unfolding in every step. Her dance was more than rhythm and grace—it was heaven’s language spoken through a child, a testimony of love too deep for words. The soft shimmer of her wings seemed to carry praises upward, as though her little heart was echoing eternity.

Her mother graciously allowed me to capture those moments, treasures that she cherishes deeply. Yet what touched us most was not only the beauty of Jaine’s dance, but the devotion radiating from her face, the sincerity shining in her eyes. It was as if her young soul whispered, “Lord, I love You. All my praise belongs to You.”

Through her worship, Jaine gently calls us back to the essence of praise: a heart unburdened, innocent, and filled with love. In her dance, the Holy Spirit breathes a reminder—that true worship is freedom, joy, and grace poured out before God. May her angel wings continue to stir our hearts, leading us to worship with the same childlike wonder.

Seeing the World Through the Lens of Compassions

 Often there is someone in our circle — a friend, a family member, a co-worker, a neighbor — who is quietly carrying a burden. But the truth is, we may not always notice unless we slow down and become aware. Kindness and compassion are not just feelings; they are intentional actions that begin with awareness.

It may be a single mother juggling work and parenting without support, an elderly neighbor who hasn’t had a visitor in weeks, or even a colleague who smiles on the outside but feels overwhelmed on the inside. When we pause to truly see others — to listen, to observe, and to care — we become sensitive to their hidden needs.

Compassion flows from empathy. Once we put ourselves in another's shoes, kindness becomes the natural response — a warm smile, a listening ear, a helping hand, or a simple message of encouragement. These small acts, done in love, reflect Christ's own heart.

Jesus was constantly aware of people’s needs. He noticed the blind man in the crowd, the woman at the well, the hungry thousands. He didn’t overlook — He leaned in.

When we begin to look at the world through the lens of compassion, we stop rushing past people and start reaching out to them. And that’s when kindness becomes not just something we do, but something we are.

JUNE — A Month to Remember

 JUNE — A Month to Remember

 My dear Hero, Friend, Teacher, Coach, Doctor, Guiding Light…
A Great Husband and lifelong companion to Mom.
And to me—my Forever Great Hero Daddy.

Thirteen years ago today, on June 21, 2012, I wrote a few heartfelt words beneath a photo that captured so much more than just a moment—it captured the essence of your quiet strength and fatherly love. Today, as I look at that same photo, my heart whispers the same truth: Daddy, I still miss you every single day.

Your kindness lives on in the way I strive to treat others. Your wisdom, sown like mustard seeds, continues to grow in me, shaping the way I think, love, and live. You spoke not with loud declarations, but with steady, guiding words—always inspiring, always filled with grace.

You were not only my father, but also Mom’s dearest friend and the most faithful companion she could ever ask for. I am forever grateful for the love you showed her, and for the strength you passed down to me.

Though I cannot see you, I feel you. You walk beside me, still.
Your legacy is written on my heart.

A lost image would never be found on Earth!
 It's hidden in the soul of the only yesterday girl!

“Those we love don't go away,
They walk beside us every day,
Unseen, unheard, but always near,
Still loved, still missed and very dear.”
– Anonymous

With all my love,
Your forever Loving GG.

Gratitude for God's Grace

 

Gratitude for God’s Grace

God’s grace is an immeasurable gift that we can never earn but freely receive. Ephesians 2:8 reminds us, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.” Take time to thank Him for the gift of salvation, the forgiveness of sins, and the strength to live each day. Gratitude for His grace leads us to live humbly and joyfully, honoring the One who has given us eternal hope.

The Journey of Love and Unity

 The Journey of Love and Unity

Every morning, I would wake up to the sun's soft rays peeking through my curtains, a gentle reminder of God's new mercies each day. Today was no different, but as I opened my eyes, I felt a quiet determination to live out the teachings of Ephesians 4:2-3: "With all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of

 peace." 

 I had always believed in the power of these words, but today, I knew I would need them more than ever. My neighbour, Mrs. Thompson, had been particularly difficult lately. Her constant complaints about the noise from my young learners playing in the garden had created a tension that seemed unresolvable. 

 After my morning prayers, I decided to bake a loaf of bread. As I kneaded the dough, I prayed for patience and a heart full of love. I thought of Jesus, who always met people with humility and gentleness, and asked for the strength to do the same. 

I walked over to Mrs. Thompson's house with the freshly baked bread in hand. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door. Mrs. Thompson opened it with a look of surprise. Before she could say anything, I smiled warmly and handed her the bread.

 "Good morning, Mrs. Thompson. I wanted to bring you this. I know we've had some disagreements lately, and I'm truly sorry we've caused you any distress. I hope we can find a way to live peacefully as neighbors."

 Mrs. Thompson's stern expression softened as she took the bread. "Thank you, Georgia. It's been a challenging time for me, and I admit I've been quick to complain. I appreciate your kindness."

Luke12:14 Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace, good will toward men!”

I felt a wave of relief washes over her. "Let's try to be more understanding of each other. We're both part of this community, and it's important to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace."

Mrs. Thompson nodded, and for the first time in weeks, we shared a genuine smile. It was a small step, but a significant one towards healing and unity.

That evening, I reflected on the day's events. I was grateful for the opportunity to practice humility, gentleness, and patience. The bond of peace was not just an abstract concept but a living, breathing reality that I could nurture every day.

I whispered a prayer of thanks, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment. I knew that with God's guidance, I could continue to bear with others in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit and create a harmonious life filled with peace.

And so, each day, I committed to living out the words of Ephesians 4:2-3, finding joy

in the journey of love and unity. 

December 20: A Day of Love Remembered

 

As I sit quietly this evening, my thoughts are drawn irresistibly to George, my beloved husband. December 21 marks the day we stood before God and pledged our hearts to one another—a date forever etched into my soul. Time moves swiftly, and though it has been two and a half years since George left for my Father’s home, not a single day passes without his presence in my thoughts. In the morning, afternoon, and night, especially in the quiet moments before sleep, I feel his love surrounding me, as real as if he were here by my side.

We had a love that was tender and true, a bond nurtured by daily rituals that reflected the depth of our connection. Each morning began with a warm hug, each night ended with a kiss and shared prayers. We faced life together, whether in joy or sorrow, encouraging one another with faith and hope. “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8). This verse guided our marriage, reminding us that forgiveness and grace are the cornerstones of a lasting union.

Our shared love of literature added another layer to our lives. Together, we journeyed through the words of Tolstoy, Shakespeare, Faulkner, and Conrad. “There is no happiness or unhappiness in this world; there is only the comparison of one state with another,” Tolstoy wrote in Anna Karenina. We cherished these moments, marveling at the truths that spoke to the human heart. Shakespeare’s sonnet whispered to us, “Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds... It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken.”

And yet, life brings its tempests. The price of such profound love, I have come to understand, is the grief that lingers when one is left behind. C.S. Lewis, in his reflections on loss, wrote, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken.” My heart is indeed wrung, yet I would not trade one moment of our shared life, for even the pain is a testament to the beauty of what we had.

In the evenings, I often imagine George sitting on the couch or by my bedside, his kind eyes
meeting mine as we talk about the day. Though I can no longer touch his hand, I feel his spirit near, as if whispering the words of Matthew 28:20: “Surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” His presence is a reminder that love transcends even death.

Our marriage was a journey of faith, anchored in the belief that God’s love sustains all things. “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate” (Mark 10:9). In this assurance, I find solace. Though George has gone ahead, I trust that he is preparing a room for me in the Father’s house, as Jesus promised in John 14:2.

On the eve of our anniversary, I celebrate the love that defined our lives, a love that remains eternal. George, you are my ever-fixed mark, my joy and my sorrow, my strength and my vulnerability. As we shared our favorite literary lines, I now share this prayer:

Lord, thank You for the gift of love that George and I shared. May this love continue to light my path, even in his absence, until we meet again in Your eternal embrace. Amen.

The Power of Being Thankful

The Power of Being Thankful

The power of being thankful can transform us, especially when it touches our lives during challenging times. As we navigate the difficult journey of redeeming our lives, embracing gratitude becomes a source of resilience and strength. In these moments, thankfulness offers comfort and clarity, helping us find purpose even in uncertainty. As 1 Thessalonians 5:18 reminds us, "Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus." It is in this space that we often sense the guiding presence of a higher power, reminding us that we are never alone and that every step we take, no matter how hard, has meaning. 

Thankfulness also opens our hearts to a deeper sense of happiness. By appreciating even the smallest blessings, we become more aware of the abundance that surrounds us. This shift in perspective nurtures contentment and reduces the constant pursuit of external successes. As Philippians 4:6-7 teaches, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." True fulfillment comes not from accumulating wealth or status but from valuing the richness of life's experiences and the connections we share with others.

Giving Thanks for People in Our Lives

 

Giving Thanks for People in Our Lives

The relationships we share are among God’s greatest blessings. Whether family, friends, or mentors, the people in our lives shape us in profound ways. Philippians 1:3 beautifully captures this sentiment: “I thank my God every time I remember you.” Make it a habit to express appreciation to those around you. A kind word, a handwritten note, or even a sincere “thank you” can strengthen bonds and spread God’s love. Recognize that every person is a gift from God, placed in your life for a purpose. Celebrate their presence, and thank God for the unique ways they enrich your journey.

The Power of Touches

 The word "touches" signifies much more than mere physical contact. It encompasses the subtle, often profound impact one person can have on another's life. Touches can be gestures of kindness, words of encouragement, or acts of compassion that leave lasting impressions on our hearts and minds. They symbolize connections, empathy, and the shared human experience. Whether through a comforting hand on the shoulder or an inspiring word, touches remind us of our interconnectedness and the power we have to influence and uplift each other. 

Everything is sweeter when shared with a friend. The joy of a beautiful sunset, the thrill of a shared achievement, or even the comfort of a quiet moment becomes richer and more meaningful when experienced together. Friendship amplifies life's pleasures and makes the journey more fulfilling, reminding us that the best moments are those we share with others.💓💓