SELAH

04/02/2026

Hello! We got word from friends that our webpage (selah.sg) shows “we’re back”, but that’s false. We no longer own the domain, and someone has peculiarly recreated a simulacrum of our old webpage. Do help us spread the word! Thank you!

26/02/2020

Do send your stories to our friends at Thir.st!

18/02/2020

Here's one for the road — Joseph reflects on his journey of helming SELAH, and the invaluable lessons he's learnt in the process. It is our greatest hope that this closing story shall inspire you to start something of your own.

The final one

15/02/2020

It breaks our heart to say this, but the SELAH team would like to share that it’s time to bid farewell. This decision has been months in the making and soaked in prayer; we collectively feel that God is telling us that this chapter of helming the magazine is drawing to a close. It has been a life-changing experience for the team to say the least. Thank you for your belief in us through the years, especially if you’ve been journeying with us from the very beginning. We’ve not closed the door to starting something new in the future, but only time will tell!

Rest assured, our stories will still be made available online for at least a year.

Given that SELAH is an online magazine, we don’t get much feedback. Hence, if the magazine has impacted in some way, we’d love to hear from you! It would mean a lot to us. You could either comment below, email us, or DM us on Instagram! :)

So long,
SELAH

02/01/2020

“My husband, Benedict, and I have been married since 2015. Our first child, Samuel, was conceived shortly after we got married.

We conceived again in 2017. I was ten weeks into the pregnancy when the doctor told us that the baby did not have a heartbeat. We were shocked and did not know how to respond. While we were advised to go for a surgical removal, we wanted to exercise faith to pray for a miracle. However, after praying for a few weeks, the miracle did not happen. Instead, I had to be rushed to the hospital for an emergency procedure when I started bleeding profusely one night.

It was a difficult period for the family. I felt numb and confused, and failed to comprehend why God did not answer our prayers for a miracle. When my friends asked me how I was feeling, I fell short of answers as I felt indifferent towards God at the time. Looking back, my heart had become hardened towards God for not answering our prayers for a miracle.

It was only in 2018, one year after the incident, that that I found resolution. Ben and I were worshipping at home, and we felt the tangible presence of God in our room. A word came to Ben, and Ben asked me if I had felt helpless during the emergency procedure.

The memories came flooding back to me: I was wheeled into the A&E ward in the middle of the night, the doctors were getting ready, and Ben was not allowed to be with me during the procedure. I recalled how confused, alone, and helpless I had felt. I had buried these emotions as I did not know how to articulate how I was feeling.

As I confronted those emotions for the first time, I felt God bring healing and closure in that moment. God spoke deeply to my heart that I wasn’t alone that night – He had been with me.

In the midst of this experience, Ben and I had to wrestle through our beliefs on God and healing. We believed that God still heals today, and that there could be miraculous healing. However, we did not know why God did not answer our prayers for miraculous healing, and why a loving God allowed this to happen. Ultimately, we needed to accept that we may not receive all the answers to our questions. Nevertheless, we could still place our trust in God.

Miscarriages are actually fairly common in Singapore, and I hope that there would be more platforms for people to share about these issues and receive support. It would also be helpful for the church to provide avenues for people to process, and to hear from others with similar experiences. It was only after losing our baby that we heard of our friends’ stories, and realised that miscarriages were more common than we realised. Yet, many keep their experiences to themselves, perhaps due to a culture of secrecy surrounding miscarriages in Singapore.

To those who have gone through a miscarriage, you are not alone in your experience, and it is not your fault. God promises to be with us through both our ups and downs!”

- Benedict and Charity

14/12/2019

We live in a culture that demands us to pursue material comfort and financial stability. What happens when God steps in and interrupts that narrative? Sherman shares his struggles in trusting and surrendering when God invited him to spend 16 months without a full-time job.

"In that moment of decision-making, my fears echoed louder than my faith. It was easy to adopt a pragmatic stance to the matter and reject the invitation, but God, like the good Father He is, took my hand and walked me through the process."

Grappling with uncertainty

20/11/2019

"Zhengxin and I have been married for close to three years, and have a baby boy, Judah, who turned one this month.

On the night that I conceived, I had a dream that I gave birth to a baby boy. He even had a specified name – Caleb. I remember waking up that morning, and casually telling Zhengxin about the dream, but I forgot about it soon after. A few weeks later, I took a pregnancy test and we were overjoyed when the reading came out positive! We went to the gynaecologist and all was well.

However, on our second visit (I was eight weeks pregnant then), the gynaecologist broke the news to us that the baby seemed to have stopped growing, and that I was almost certainly going to miscarry in the next few days. I remembered feeling shell-shocked; holding back my tears, I couldn’t really register what she had shared. I thought something like this only happened to others — it never once crossed our minds that it could happen to us. When we left her room, I immediately broke down and cried in Zhengxin’s embrace.

This incident birthed forth one of the most defining moments in our relationship with God as a couple. We went home and as the day settled, Zhengxin and I sat by the piano and we started to worship God. With tears, we sang the lyrics: “I lean not on my own understanding. My life is in the hands of the maker of heaven. I give it all to You, God, trusting that You’ll make something beautiful out of this.”

Oftentimes, it is easy to praise God when life is going well. But what if we’re going through darkness and pain in our lives, like when we lost our baby? Zhengxin and I decided to declare God’s goodness, in spite of our circumstance, for it is in this moment that we have the opportunity to offer up a sacrifice of praise. Although, in that moment, we did not understand His plans, we trusted His heart — that God is still good to us. This miscarriage also gave us a glimpse of the sorrow the Father must have felt when Jesus died on the cross. God knows exactly what we are going through, and He mourns together with us. We are not alone.

It was a few weeks after I miscarried that the dream about Caleb came to my mind. I wondered if there was any significance about that dream, and his name. In the Bible, Caleb was one of the two men that had gone ahead from the rest into the promised land. When I received this revelation, something within me broke. I knew in my heart that my baby boy, Caleb, had gone ahead to heaven first. And it is because of what Jesus had done on the cross and His resurrection power, that I now have this hope that we will eventually meet each other in heaven. Jesus is our living hope.

During that season, Zhengxin and I felt really blessed by our family and church community who reached out to us once we felt ready to open up. Different ones dropped messages of care, and came by our home with flowers, tonic, food, and most importantly the gift of their presence. They listened, prayed, and cried with us. And when we eventually conceived again and welcomed baby Judah, they too celebrated and rejoiced with us!

To those who need to hear this: Don’t be afraid to share your struggles as you are not alone! Sharing your miscarriage story, and having a community of family and friends to journey alongside you, will become an important part of your healing process, like it has been for us."

-Zhengxin & Huiting

01/11/2019

"It has been almost one year since our first miscarriage, and four months since our second one. The grief still comes at times and hits unexpectedly – when I see a mum with a newborn or on significant days like Children's Day or Mother's Day. We've done our best to be intentional in not sweeping our grief and questions under the rug, but choosing to be honest with ourselves, God, and one another instead.

How can God meet us face-to-face until we take off our masks and reveal our faces?

While grieving, I didn’t want to meet nor talk to anyone as I wanted to process my thoughts and emotions. But here’s the thing with intimacy: We don’t obtain it with clean, processed niceties. We arrive at intimacy when we allow someone else to look into our souls — naked, raw, and messy. The pinnacle of human intimacy was Jesus nailed on the cross — undressed, bloody, with his sweat and tears on display. God wasn’t ashamed of my weakness. He didn’t flinch at my pain; He didn’t need me to “have it all together” or have the right answers. He just needed me to let my guard down and let Him be the strong one in the relationship. The healing process requires our souls bared to the Healer.

Miscarriage is seldom talked about and therefore little understood. The biggest struggle for us were the insensitive responses (though from well-meaning hearts), like people saying, "It's okay, you'll have other children." Each child is special; we can't cover up the loss of one child by replacing them with others. Others would say, "Trust God!", and some others totally left us alone until we were "back to normal" because they wanted to give us space to grieve.

Most friends, in an effort to tip-toe around our grief, have not mentioned our baby's name or even talked about him, so it has sometimes felt like no one remembers our baby. I feel it's because we, as the body of Christ, have not been equipped to be comfortable with grief. A friend whose daughter we used to babysit told us that she no longer wanted us to babysit her daughter because, "You don't have children so we have different values."

As I shared our story of miscarriage, I began to get messages from women from around the world, reaching out to share their heartbreaking stories of loss and how they've felt so alone in that journey of pain, guilt, and shame. I did a poll, and while 90% responded that either they or someone they personally knew had miscarried, only 37% actually had basic knowledge of miscarriage and its recovery process. I was shocked and felt like something had to be done. More conversations need to get going so that we are better educated and equipped on this subject.

I started a “by community for community” platform called Miscarriage Recovery (http://Instagram.com/miscarriagerecovery) to get the conversation going and hopefully increase miscarriage-literacy. It is a place for people to ask questions on miscarriage and get them answered by others. This is for people who are looking for support in miscarriage recovery, and also for those who want to grow in understanding so they can help those who have miscarried.

One of the most healing things we received was through one of our mentors. She said that she saw our Father hugging me, not saying a word, but with tears streaming down His face. He was embracing me, grieving with me, and protecting me from hurtful words of others.

To grieving mums, our Father loves us so much. He empathises completely with our feelings of loss, shame, guilt, and frustration. He is hugging us right now with perfect Love and complete trustworthiness. We may not understand why circumstances have turned out the way they have, but God is all right with our questions. He wants to meet us, and simply love us there."

-Samantha Lee-Wiraatmaja

28/10/2019

Jasmine knew that she needed to quit her job one year ahead of schedule. Yet, when she eventually obeyed God, there was no direction on the path ahead, leaving her feeling lost and anxious. Jasmine bares her soul on this destabilising yet significant season of her life.

“Every time I was on my laptop, idly searching through a job portal or for opportunities to further my studies overseas, a gentle yet firm instruction would beckon: ‘Close the browser. Your next season will not be found here.’”

Learning God's definition of success

26/10/2019

“My husband, Alex, and I have been married for 5 years. While we love children, we did not feel a desire to have children immediately. However, at the beginning of last year, God began sending people who encouraged us to start planning for a child. This was when we began to seriously consider becoming parents.

Last December, we had our first miscarriage. Subsequently, in June this year, we had our second one.

“Miscarriage” was not a foreign word to me but it had always seemed like a concept far-removed from my reality. Out of a sudden, this reality careened into mine and I was not prepared for the anguish.

The first time, through a series of doctors’ consultation and phone calls, while holding on to faith, we were met with crushing devastation: Our baby’s heart had stopped beating. We had miscarried. Through the blur of hours of contractions and so much bleeding, I gave birth to our baby six months too early. We were worn out and in so much physical, emotional, and spiritual pain.

I didn’t know that a miscarriage was just like giving birth, complete with hours of painful contractions and giving birth to our baby…except with a different outcome: Our baby was dead. There was no baby to hold to make the pain of childbirth worthwhile, only a sense of loss and emptiness. We wouldn’t get to take our baby Justice home, breathe in his new baby smell, dress him in the cute Mickey Mouse onesie we’d bought with so much joy and anticipation.

The conception of our baby Justice Wiraatmaja had been foretold. Upon conception, we received prophecies of his prophetic destiny – He was called to fight for justice, especially children with special needs, and be an intercessory forerunner and a prophet to his generation. We were in the midst of an intense prayer shield with our partners championing the Heartbeat Bill in USA (intercession for justice for children – all the things he was called for) when our baby’s own heart stopped beating. We couldn’t understand why.

I didn’t know we’d grieve our unborn first child like a parent would grieve the loss of their child. I didn’t expect how much we’d love our baby before having met him. As my body mended in the days that followed, our hearts grieved.

We decided to take a few weeks to sit before God with our questions. We wanted to honour the precious life of our baby by grieving him instead of sweeping the loss of him under the rug of Christian platitudes. Holy sorrow leads to holy joy, and we cannot short-circuit the process but neither should we linger more than we should.

In my grieving, we experienced the full-range of emotions in the stages of grief: Denial, anger, depression, etc. But the thing that most threatened to engulf and drag me down to the darkness were my questions.

About God: Why did God allow this? Why would He give so much promise for our baby’s life only to take that life away? Is He angry with me?

About me: Did I do something wrong? Did I make a mistake and cost my baby his life? Was it because I was going to be a bad mother, so God had taken him to a better place?

About our baby: Did he suffer? How did he feel as his heart slowed to a stop? Was he scared? Was he in pain? Did he feel alone? Did he know he was loved and wanted?

I was so desperate for God to answer my big “Why.” There’ve only been a few other seasons in my life with pain that rivals this one, and most of those times, God had shown up to speak and answer me. But in these weeks of mourning, God remained silent. Not absent, but silent. He has sat with me in my pain, the tears on my face mirroring the tears running down His. He has held my hand and wept with me. He has given me no answers to tranquilise my grief, and somehow that has given a dignity to the process.

Our mentor told Alex and I that there are some things we will not understand on this side of earth, and will only see in full clarity in eternity. I won’t deny my questions, but I will worship God in spite of them.”

-Samantha Lee-Wiraatmaja

09/10/2019

Millions of people across the world today are still trapped in modern slavery. Living in Singapore's sheltered environment, we can be oblivious to such a grave issue. In an interview with SELAH, Lydia Bowden from International Justice Mission Singapore, shares her personal journey in advocating for the oppressed and marginalised.

Interview with Lydia Bowden

06/10/2019

No one escapes the clutches of death. How then should we view, accept and process death? Natalie reflects on recently losing her grandmother, and shares key lessons learnt through this time of grief.

"I still vividly remember a gripping pain and a discomforting sense of not knowing what to do or how to feel. The tears came so naturally and profusely; I hardly had any control."

Lessons from pain and grief