Sunday morning unfolded the way it usually does in our house: slow, forgiving, unbothered. Lunch was a happy reunion of leftovers from last night’s Christmas gathering; proof that celebrations don’t really end, they just quietly continue in reheated portions.
At one in the afternoon we headed to church for the two o’clock service. In the parking lot, we ran into an old friend: Richard Fang, who once co-founded tiket.com with my husband, along with his wife Karen and their daughter. Turns out we were worshipping in the same building, just different sessions. We introduced our daughter, designer to designer, and almost instinctively Richard said, “Learn AI.”
I laughed. My husband has been saying the exact same thing at home, and has been gently but consistently rejected. Our daughter is an idealist. She believes AI steals creative jobs. I get it. But the truth is, AI isn’t something you fight. It’s something you learn to walk with, to master, so you don’t get left behind. Funny how God sometimes repeats a message through different mouths, just to make sure you’re listening.
That day happened to be Communion Sunday. The verse I received was Ecclesiastes 3:1 "for everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." I was already tearing up during worship. By the time prayers and the sermon came, I had completely surrendered to the tears.
Pastor Jose’s sermon notes are still sitting warmly in my heart.
Know God through His Word; intentionally, progressively, and graciously accommodated to our human capacity.
Relationship and trust always come before impact. Without a personal relationship with God, worship risks becoming just another religious routine. Revelation itself is God’s loving initiative toward humanity.
After church, as tradition demands, we stopped by our favorite gorengan stall in front of Hotel Amaris. Still ridiculously good. Still generously sized. Nine pieces for ten thousand rupiah. Some blessings really do stay consistent.
We didn’t go straight home because our eldest wanted to watch a SpongeBob SquarePants show at AEON BSD. We arrived too early, 4:30 pm for a 5:30 show, so we wandered around. The youngest bought cotton candy, which was rare and suspiciously unhealthy. The eldest considered ice cream, walked around with Daddy, then decided against it. Probably couldn’t find anything “reasonably priced.” In the end, we bought one extra-large Chatime drink and shared it between the four of us. Economical. Efficient. Slightly heroic.
And somehow, that moment moved me. It reminded me of childhood, when limitations were normal and sharing was the default. We didn’t have much, but we had togetherness. And that, it turns out, is the part that lasts.
When the show finally started, the place was packed. Thankfully, my husband went full tactical mode and secured a spot right next to the stage. Instant VIP experience. Other kids had to spend at least 150k just to stand near the front. We spent nothing and still got the best view. Grace comes in many forms.
The funniest part? The one who originally suggested the show was our eldest. But the most excited person there was definitely Daddy. Dancing, cheering, high-fiving SpongeBob and Patrick like his inner child had just been set free.
I posted the video on the way home. It went mildly viral almost immediately. As I write this, it’s been watched 45,000 times, liked by 2,300 people, shared 893 times, saved 103 times, and a lot of comments. I honestly don’t know where people are sharing it or to whom. But I do know this: laughing like this on a regular basis is probably why we stay young. Free endorphins, refilled daily. 😂
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