On Jacob and Israel, closure, and the end of #fireplace

The thing about Jacob was that he had a lot of heart. He knew what he wanted and he chased after it. But the problem was that it wasn't his and what he did wasn't right. I don't know what would have happened if Jacob had waited for his prophecy to be fulfilled instead of stealing it from Esau, but stole it he did, even if it was Esau's fault for giving it away. I mean, come on. You're hungry. I get that. But your little brother says "sell me your birthright for this stew" so you get melodramatic and say "I'm going to die of hunger anyway so you can have it." Like, was that the only food in the camp? Wouldn't say there be other people around with food, like servants, who would willingly give you food for free or just because you're the boss's son? And then what would happen when you didn't die of hunger?

But Jacob - Jacob wanted the birthright. He hungered for the blessing. From when he was born, he had probably lived with the words "and the older will serve the younger" rattling around in his head. Maybe even from the womb, he had lived with that desire in his heart and when he saw the opportunity, he took it. And then he took the blessing as well, though technically, the blessing went with the birthright. And then he ran, and he never stopped running until -

The difference that marked Israel was that he had "striven with God and with men and had prevailed". The blessing of Abraham had long passed from Abraham to Isaac and to him as Jacob, but he had still been running. He was still living in the fear of his lie and maybe the fear for his life. But by the time Jacob becomes Israel, he's settled his differences with Laban - they've drawn a line where neither will cross to harm the other - and he's met Esau and appeased him. He has stopped running away.

More than that, he's wrestled with God in the dark of the night and clung on until he received his blessing - not through trickery this time, by pretending to be someone else, but from God himself, in his own name. He's returned to the beginning of his journey, Bethel, where he first saw God, and God appears to him again, blessing him in his own right.

The thing about our God is that He is a God of closure. He is the Author and the Finisher of our faith. As much as I like open ended stories, there must always be a form of closure which says "this is the end... even if it's only for now". When Jacob first met God in Luz, God says "Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you." (Genesis 28:15). At the end of this episode, in Genesis 35, God brings Israel back to Bethel and reaffirms His promise. Jacob's chapter as runaway birthright stealer had closed. A new chapter as Israel, father of the twelve tribes had begun.

---

I began writing fireplace back in high school as part of a weekly devotional for my cell group. Our youth group had been called firebrands, so I called my write ups "by the fireplace", which was later shortened to "fireplace". Since then it moved from my now-defunct lycos email list to my yahoo email list to my gmail email list and finally to my blog. It's been following me through up and downs, from weird write ups to fervent rants, including mountaintop experiences to awkward deconversion posts. It's time to lay it to rest.

I'm coming to the end of something. Maybe. I've said this before. I'm also coming to the start of something. I've said this before too. But I'm the type of person who needs to say it many times, to reaffirm it many times until it becomes real. Maybe because there is a need to speak it into being and since I don't really speak much, I write it down often. After all Habakkuk 2: 2-3 tells us to :

“Write the vision
And make it plain on tablets,
That he may run who reads it.
For the vision is yet for an appointed time;
But at the end it will speak, and it will not lie.
Though it tarries, wait for it;
Because it will surely come,
It will not tarry."

So as fireplaces comes to its end, maybe something new will take its place. I don't know yet. I've been thinking of something but I don't know how it will work. Or whether I should make it work.

But we'll see.

#fireplace: Is your laziness stronger than your passion?

2 Thessalonians 3:6-15

It's funny, how after finally having time to myself after eight months, I immediately turn into a huge lump of lard that just wants to laze in bed and read books. (Fact: I've read 10 books since leaving KPMG on 22 August. That's ten books in two weeks.) What happened to all the grandiose plans of *ahem* helping the worship team, starting a creative arts team, editing that book, writing and blogging consistently?

It's coming. I promise. I just need this to run its course.

The problem, of course, with the fallacy of "running its course" is that the course never ends. The current of laziness and apathy and just plain sloth merely prolongs itself into infinity, because, you know, procrastination.

http://adventuresinmonaland.com/2012/01/23/%E3%83%84motivation-in-monaland-%E3%83%84-what-are-you-waiting-for/

And the problem (since I seem to like defining problems) is that we (you; I) think that time is our own. That what I do or do not do has no bearing on anything or anyone but myself - but that is inherently untrue. The time I spent being a total complete utter bum yesterday could have been spent in building up the saints in church. It could have been spent drafting (or rather, redrafting) the mission and purpose of building a creative arts team in church. It could have been spent editing that manuscript. It could have been spent writing the book reviews I signed up for. But no - it was spent reading a book that didn't need to be read (on any urgent basis), and surfing facebook and the internet. (Though maybe there is one good outcome: this post. Er, well, I hope it's good.)

Is your laziness stronger than your passion?

Mine seems to be that way right now. The effort it takes for me to get "bum in chair, fingers on keyboard" seems like wrestling with a hungry man-eating lion. It's like climbing Mount Everest; no actually, it's like me trying to hike up Penang Hill. Penang Hill is at least somewhat possible no matter how improbable - Mount Everest will never happen. It's easier to continue reading another book because "writers need to read too" but when you're consuming at the rate I have been, it's quickly becoming a gorge fest, with no end in sight.

Sometimes I give the excuse that I don't do what I think I should be doing because I don't know what to do. The truth is, I don't know what to do because I'm too lazy to think it through, too lazy to work it through, too lazy to pray it through. I have vague ideas that I think I should do, but really, I'd rather be reading the next book on my never ending to-be-read list. I'd rather just be talking about it, because, you know, talking is easier than doing.

I long for brilliance, but all I have is mediocrity.

Just for the sheer reason that I have not set aside the time. 10,000 hours to become an expert in your field, isn't that what they say? There is time needed for reflection, for thinking, for work, for discipline. It's not discipline for discipline's sake, but discipline for the sake of the Body of Christ, for the sake of the saints, for the sake of your salvation - not that you are saved by what you do, but that by what you choose to do (or not to do) you work out your salvation in faith and works, purifying yourself in the fire of His truth, by the Word that does not return void. And if you, by your inaction, stop the work of Christ in and through your life, you become a blockage in the artery that seeks to send forth the Word.

In the parable of the two brothers (Matthew 21:28-32), you have the brother who says no initially, but then does it anyway, and you have the other brother who says sure, I'll do it but never gets round to it. And that's the thing isn't it? We refuse to commit so that we can be justified in our laziness, saying "we did not promise," and we quote the verse saying "let your yes be yes and your no be no" (Matt 5:37) glibly.

But we did. We promised. Not explicitly, no. But we promised. We promised to follow the Lord in His leading. We promised to follow the Church and leading of the pastors, and unless you have a revelation from God, duly considered, that this is not where you personally should go, you void that implicit promise through your inaction.

http://www.livin3.com/blogs/positive-life-blog/7626373-april-2013-inspirational-poster-quotes

Does that sound harsh? Maybe it is. Maybe I'm overreacting over two weeks of feeling lazy and anti-social. Maybe I'm just needing to be alone to recharge. And yet maybe it's true.

Maybe this apathy, this sloth, this inaction is what's holding you, and the church, back from being the spotless bride that God wants you to be.

I know it's holding me back.

You are not your father's son - you were never meant to be.

You are not your father's son.
You are not your mother's daughter.
You are more than that.

You do not merely stand in their shadow, to be consumed by it, to become only what they dreamt for you.
It is their right to dream.
But it is not your duty to fulfil.

You are who you are in your own right, born with your own dreams, visions birthed by God. And there comes a time when you need to grow up and throw off the yoke of who your parents are; not to defy them or to deny them, but to stand on their shoulders as your own person and say, "you have brought me this far, but I have much farther to go for God."

It is not wrong.
It is not their fault, and neither is it yours.
It is the way things were meant to be, as your parents have notched the arrow, and launch you - straight, unfaltering - into the path God meant for you.

And sometimes it is not a path they had thought you would take, but that's okay.
It is not your fault, nor theirs, and it is not a wrong path.
It is merely different.

You are not only your father's daughter.
You are not only your mother's son.
You were never meant to be merely that.
You were specially created by God for a purpose.

And you cannot fulfil that by hanging on to their coattails.

#fireplace: Spiritually, a shaking; deeper still, he cuts.

Haggai 2
6 “This is what the Lord Almighty says: ‘In a little while I will once more shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land. 7 I will shake all nations, and what is desired by all nations will come, and I will fill this house with glory,’ says the Lord Almighty. 8 ‘The silver is mine and the gold is mine,’ declares the Lord Almighty. 9 ‘The glory of this present house will be greater than the glory of the former house,’ says the Lord Almighty. ‘And in this place I will grant peace,’ declares the Lord Almighty.”

Hebrews 12
26 At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.”[ref: Haggai 2:6] 27 The words “once more” indicate the removing of what can be shaken—that is, created things—so that what cannot be shaken may remain.

There is a shaking going on. A shaking we cannot see and sometimes do not feel, but nevertheless shakes us to the core.

Friday morning after the crazy wind and storm, I was driving to work and I had this crazy image of a small group of people praying in a tiny room while the storm raged around them. And it was as if it was saying that this storm - this physical storm that devastated our little island - is just a tiny outflow of the spiritual storm and shaking that is happening around us, right now, right here.

And then I had goosebumps.

Then came the thought, the always present, ever nagging thought, and what are you doing about it?Because that's the question isn't it? That's the really important question.

~

Josh once described me as an onion, with layers being peeled away to reveal new things beneath. I think those were the words he used, or at least I remember them that way anyway, and you know the thing about onions? As every skin is shed, it makes you cry. It makes you tear up. I don't know if God's tearing up, but I do know that I've been crying a lot. It's probably a mix of hormones and stress and a lot of other factors, but the underlying factor under it all, is the feeling of unworthiness, the feeling of being unwanted, forgotten.

Maybe I'm not sleeping well enough, or maybe this shaking that's going on is shaking me up, but I had this dream, I think last night or so (no, not about the books, which was bizarre enough in its own way). In this dream, everyone else, all the alumni of my previous youth group, were invited to some big celebratory do, like some kind of reunion. And I was not invited. Because in some way, I was never part of them. Not truly, never in the heart.

And at the risk of jumping off track, I'm thinking of Eustace when he was turned into a dragon. And it's the same; the peeling of an onion, and Eustace trying to dig off his dragon skin; sometimes I feel that way, as if I dig at scabs, emotional scabs, and the pain, oh, the satisfying pain, that you revel in, just to make sure you still feel something, that you're something more than a moving statue. And sometimes, more than once, I imagine if I were somewhere else, some person else, and not who I was brought up to be, would I be cutting, would I be drinking myself into a stupor, breaking things, anything to make me feel alive? And I remember Aslan, coming in, and with one deep cut, deeper than anything else, breaking through the dragon and making Eustace human again.

~

And so this shaking.

It's a sense of something moving, something happening, something poised to erupt.

It's as if, with our cultivated elegance, we've lost touch with the primal in us, the thing that makes you wail, undone, in the presence of something bigger than yourself. And so we fail in worship, because we are too careful. We're careful we're in the right key, we sing the right words, we play the right notes, we look the right way, we do the right things. And we ignore the deeper urge that is trying to pull us deeper and deeper and deeper in, instead allowing ourselves to be wound up in considerations of whether the band is too loud, or the drums are too noisy.

I am a  tightly wound coil, almost springing, but not yet, not quite yet; waiting.

So God shakes us.

#fireplace: in all humility, a #peptalk

Dear you,

You know that verse where it says "In all humility, consider others better than yourself"? Yeah, that one. You know what it doesn't mean? It doesn't mean that you hate yourself either. It doesn't mean that you're allowed to indulge in extended bouts of self-loathing because you know what? You are good.

You are good at what you do, even if you don't always think you are. You are good at what you do, even if you don't do it at the same pace that other people do. You are good at what you do, even if it seems more difficult to you than to anyone else because you know what? You really do care.

Even if you say you don't. Even though in your head and with your mouth you confess that you don't. But you really do, because you always go back and make it right and you try the best that you can not to let things slide, even though sometimes you just have to because there is just too much, too fast and it's all too overwhelming. And that's why you're so frustrated with yourself. Because somewhere deep inside you care too much to let it go and somewhere deeper still you still struggle with the belief that there's nothing good in you and nobody loves you and nobody appreciates you and it comes back to that one thing.

Stop hating yourself.

Considering others better than yourself doesn't mean you're perfect and that you'll never need correction or that you'll never do any wrong. It just means that you swallow your pride and accept that there are things in your life that are messed up and there are people in your life who are there to point out your mess and help you fix it (or at least tell you to) and that's perfectly okay. Because that never ever ever negates who you are and the fact that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. (And fearfully made does not mean that you are a frightening monster, silly. It means with reverence and respect).

It doesn't mean that you put yourself down either. It means that when you know who you are and where you are, and when you can accept that, you are able to place others on a higher priority, or with a higher respect, than where you place yourself. You do not consider others better than yourself by considering yourself worse than others.

So stop it. Just stop it, okay? 

Remember that you are not what you do. Your identity is not tied up with your job or your performance or how you look, but with how much the King loves you and cherishes you. And He does. Always. Forever. Remember that.

And remember, I love you too.

Your self-esteem.

Selah

This weekend has been one of those kinds of days where you realise really random things.

Like for one, the teeny weeny little drummer boy is now... *drumrolls* taller than me and learning how to drive.

And for another, the reason I don't like this person is because I feel he treats me as a non-entity, just by the way he talks. Or rather, just by the way he excludes me from his conversations, even though I would say I have a vested interest in it.

Also, if you're really passionate about something, you'd do anything you can to finish your project even if it means another sleepless night.

Unless, of course, you get distracted over another important project which means something to you.

But this then pushes the main part of your life down to an ever lower priority, equating to more late nights in order to catch up (because you essentially "wasted" your weekends).

Which comes back to the main thought of this week, or month, or whatever: I cannot sustain this level of living for too long without breaking down.

I need to slow down.
Cut back.
Reprioritise.
And it comes back to this thought.

To only do that which is necessary.

#fireplace: audacious prayers

I didn't really intend to go up for altar call. I hardly ever do anymore. I guess I'm jaded about the whole go up and get someone to pray for you thing because oftentimes, I'm this invisible persona in the front where everyone else and their dogs gets prayed for before someone goes "oh, you're still here. Do you want to be prayed for?" I usually give up by that time and go home. Yes, extremely jaded, I know.

But I went up anyway. And this line was repeating itself in my head. Give me Penang. 

I'm like, what? You know, like, really?

Give me Penang.
Give me Penang for Your glory.

And I think it ties back to the things I've been thinking of for years now. Thinking of, but never really quite managing to do, as much as I wish I could. And yet somehow working towards it, slowly, surely. I stumbled across an old post here, which says this:

NOW pursue in faith and prayer, seeking to do His will in its perfect time.
New beginnings and the birthing of a vision will take time and hard work. It will not happen over days, weeks or months, but over a span of YEARS.
But it will not fail.

BELIEVE that this will be the first year in a span of many, the first birthing year for the laying of the vision, the communication of the plan and the gathering of the people.

There may be no fruits. There may be failures, tears and trials. But YOU have been anointed and commissioned by the prayers of the saints, the laying on of hands and the anointing of oil and if you hold on to that anointing, believing in faith and without doubt, you will see these things come to pass.

It comes back to something Pastor Kul Bal said during his sermon last Sunday - what are the graves in your life? What are the things that are holding you back? What are the things that are distracting you from your main purpose in life?

And the thing is that I'm distracted. I'm distracted by so many things that's happening in church and out of church. I'm distracted by GCF and EAGC and Headstart. I'm distracted by worship leading and the worship team. I'm even distracted by trying to get involved in drama and creative arts outside of church. I'm distracted by the craziness of my work and the deadlines I have to meet. All these things aren't bad in itself. They're good. They're things that need to be done. They're things I'm good at doing. But the thing is, it's not my primary focus. And because I am doing all these things, I'm not doing what I feel I should be doing: building a creative arts team. 

Something has to give somewhere. I'm stretched too tight, because they need people. And they do. And I'm sorry. But I have to stop running around in circles and stop wishing.

Give me Penang. 
Give me this space as my theatre, my workshop, my dance hall.
Give me Penang for You.

Sometimes, I frighten myself.

fireplace: What does righteousness look like?

"Goodness is about what you do. Not who you pray to."
"I tell you, commander, it's true that some of the most terrible things in the world are done by people who think, genuinely think, that they're doing it for the best, especially if there is some god involved.”

Terry Pratchett, Snuff

In a way that's true. Being good is a lot about what you do and so often in the midst of good intentions, of trying to do what is right in our view, we do more damage to others in the name of God.

It's not difficult to be good.

It's difficult to be righteous, i.e.:

1 : acting in accord with divine or moral law : free from guilt or sin
2
a : morally right or justifiable
b : arising from an outraged sense of justice or morality

In fact, to even be righteous, you need to define morality. What's morally right or justifiable? Is my morality the same as yours? Is the divine law I believe in the same as what you believe? Romans 3 says this:

10as it is written,  “THERE IS NONE RIGHTEOUS, NOT EVEN ONE;
11THERE IS NONE WHO UNDERSTANDS,  THERE IS NONE WHO SEEKS FOR GOD;
12ALL HAVE TURNED ASIDE, TOGETHER THEY HAVE BECOME USELESS;  THERE IS NONE WHO DOES GOOD,  THERE IS NOT EVEN ONE.”

21But now apart from the Law the righteousness of God has been manifested, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets,22even the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all those who believe; for there is no distinction;23for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,24being justified as a gift by His grace through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus;25whom God displayed publicly as a propitiation in His blood through faith. This was to demonstrate His righteousness, because in the forbearance of God He passed over the sins previously committed;26for the demonstration, I say, of His righteousness at the present time, so that He would be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.

I am righteous because of Christ. I have been justified by faith. And yet, the thing is that righteousness still has a cost. It's the cost of following Christ.

It's easy to proclaim freedom (which was promised by God) and grace (which is freely available) but forget that in Romans 13:13, Paul also urges us to "behave properly as in the day" and to "put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts". We forget Romans 14:13b: rather determine this—not to put an obstacle or a stumbling block in a brother’s way.

And I think that's what we forget when we live in our own Christian bubbles so much. We create a culture of our own that has no bearing on the world out there. We create a double level of living and talking for the "sacred" and the "secular". And we forget that whilst the world out there dresses and behaves a certain way and laughs at us because we are so prude and old-fashioned, at the same time, they (often unconsciously) hold a higher standard to us than we do for ourselves.
And every time we forget that, we damage our testimony in their eyes. I'm not saying we need to be perfect. We will never be. But there has to be a consistency in our behaviour and in what we profess.

You know what? I don't even really know why I'm going into this. I don't think it's my main point/bugbear/annoyance. Thing is I grew up in a family where everything you do is scrutinized. It's not a good thing, but it's a fact of (my) life. And because of that, my natural reaction when doing something is to think "what will so-and-so say?"
It's a burden to live under but it's also very relevant to understanding that verse (not to put a stumbling block). Because people's faith sometimes are dependent on others, and that "others" includes you whether you like it or not. And if you, the church goer, the cell leader, the spiritual parent, are living exactly like the world, what difference does it make to be a Christian? How do you tell people to live holy lives when what you do is also seen as"sin" or "bad behavior" in the world's eyes? You may not see it as such because of your freedom in Christ, but sometimes other people do not see it the same way as you do. Because culture and age dictates otherwise.
It's a difficult path to walk and it's very easy to fall into being judgmental and legalistic. But we need to live upright, to be holy as He is holy even as we stand assured in His righteousness.
Ok, I'm meandering and getting lost somewhere. But here's a video.
It's a long video. But worth a watch.

fireplace: Praying with power

I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which He has called you, the riches of His glorious inheritance in His holy people, and His incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength He exerted when He raised Christ from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come.

Ephesians 1:18-21

I've been putting off this post to almost a month now, but there are some things that somehow need to be said. I'm just not sure if I'm the one to be saying or if I even know how to say it. The thing with prayer is that it's very easy to talk about it. It's easy to bounce off theories and come up with placating reasons why some prayers were answered and others were not; about how sometimes we may not be able to recognise the answer, or how we refuse to accept answers we don't like, and all that kind of thing. But when it comes down to it, no matter what you or I can say, if you just cannot grasp what prayer really is about (and it's about a lot of things!), if your mindset and your worldview is wrong (what is wrong and what is right?), you're just never going to get it. And most times I don't yet either. I wish I did.

Dr Philip Lyn preached on The Believer's Authority about a month ago when I visited SIB KL, and one of the things he said that resonated with me went something like this: "Stop describing the mountain to God. He knows what it looks like and the more you talk you make it bigger for yourself. Speak to the mountain the words and promises of God."

And that's just it. I'm not a proponent of the "name it and claim it" theology, but at the same time, I think that a lot of times our prayers are ineffective because we forget or we don't really believe that God may actually want to answer our prayers. We act as if we need to twist God's arm or manipulate him into doing something that He actually wants to do for us.

And that comes to speaking it into being. Because you know, God spoke, and the world was made. And if we're learning to become more like Christ, there are times when we just need to speak into the situation, to say to the mountain that it should move, and wait for it to move. And we do have that authority in Christ to do so, if only we claim it. His incomparably great power for us who believe - the same power that raised Christ from the dead.

We - I - need to stop living in defeat.

Fireplace: Reluctantly, you change.

I supposed the biggest problem is that I haven't quite changed my mental image of myself.
You see, I never expected to reach here, despite putting it in my goal setting every year. You had to have a goal to set, right? Didn't mean that you actually saw yourself getting there.

I'd calculated that I wouldn't be here for another 2 years yet. After all, when I first joined they said it takes 8 years. EIGHT YEARS, right? Not six and slightly less than a half. And in my mental image of me, I'd be out of here before then, maybe married (HAH), hopefully working a half day job whilst building a creative arts team in church and writing my novel. I had time to slowly work things out for another year, at least, until I got there.

Things never work out how you imagine it to be. You wish that it would, but life never follows your schedule, especially with God in the mix.

And as everything piles up, it's very easy to think of this as a curse, as if God didn't think I had enough to deal with, contrary to normal expectations that I would be happy. (Ender randomly comes to mind. Not all promotions are good for you, physically and mentally.) Sometimes I wonder if I'm even normal, if the responses I have actually correlate to what the general population would feel. But I've been reminded a couple of times that promotion comes from the Lord so I'm holding on to that - that this year will not be the death of my creative dreams, that this year will not end with defeat before it even starts.

Psalm 65:11 says:

You crown the year with Your goodness, richness overflows wherever You are.

Goodness (NIV says bounty) has overflowed in the past year, as I said in my 2012 year end review, and looking back, I have no idea how I did all of that, except by God's grace. So I'm holding on to that. I'm holding on to His promise that when we walk in His ways, we will be the head and not the tail.

May the latter continually be greater as you walk with Him.

#fireplace: pressing on in #worship (and two #giveaway s)

The weekends when I lead worship at church are often both stressful and satisfying. (Okay, it's only stressful for me and the musicians because I'm a muddle-minded person).
Today, for example, our drummer didn't turn up. We pressed on, with keys and guitar. Then our LCD projector blew a fuse in the middle of Lead me to the cross. And you know, that's a difficult song; it has so many words. We pressed on - even the littlest child can sing the chorus of In moments like these. Then the pastor's microphone didn't work. He swapped mikes and pressed on.
It felt like a recipe for disaster, but it wasn't.

And somewhere in the back of my mind was the question, 'why does this always happen to me?'
But that's an unfair question, because it doesn't always happen to me. And even when it does, you know that it only makes you rely on God all the more.

Sometimes I think that's why it happens to me. Because sometimes I think I can handle it when I know I can't. And though mostly I hope for a great worship session, I'm usually thankful that we got through the set with minimal disasters. After every worship session, I thank God for getting us through, and promise I'll be better prepared the next time, I'll dig deeper in His Word, but life gets in the way, and sometimes I do, but more often I don't. That's probably not a very good confession to be hearing from your worship leader, but sometimes it really is the truth! (And if you can't be truthful to your church, who can you be truthful with?)

I just bookmarked this verse during service this morning:

Luke 22:32 - But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.

It kind of struck me... did you ever realise that Jesus said "And when you have turned back"? It presupposes we will fall but we will get up again. Okay, yes we know that Peter denied Jesus and later he turned back and led the church; we know that in hindsight. Imagine, for a moment, if you were Peter, and you knew with all your heart you would never fail Jesus... and then you did. That one word, "when" would have made a lot of difference for me.

So we press on, continually press on. 

---

CHRISTMAS GIVEAWAYS!

I've blogged about my good friend Josh before - last year, I did an artist interview with him when he first launched his album, In That Day.

This year, I'm running a giveaway for his album (digital download), unless you live in Malaysia, in which case I can arrange an autographed copy for you. It's an easy entry giveaway! 

Also, I've been much blessed by the Next Level worship series by David Santistevan, and was also privileged to participate in the launch of his book, The Worship Songwriter, in October. So here's another easy entry giveaway!

Entries close on 23 December 2012!

(p/s I've moved the rafflecopter to a separate post here.)

How integrated is your faith?

One of the things that really struck us, or me at least, in Bali was the way the Hindu faith is so intertwined in the lives of the people that it is difficult to separate the cultural from the spiritual.

For example, what do you think that building above was? Some sort of temple or religious building?
Would you guess that it’s actually the local Starbucks?

Here’s the picture from the front. But you wouldn’t have been able to tell without the sign, would you?

I received an e-mail forward recently which said something like this:

"You have offered us Christianity in a Western cup... Give it to us in an Eastern bowl and we will drink of it," is a famous statement by Singh, who converted from Sikh to Christianity after his personal experience with Jesus, who appeared in his room on one morning in the year 1905, when he was just fifteen years old. 

Stanley Jones once asked Gandhi:
“How can we make Christianity naturalized in India, not a foreign thing, identified with a foreign government and a foreign people, but a part of the national life of India and contributing its power to India’s uplift?"
Gandhi responded with great clarity, "First, I would suggest that all Christians, missionaries begin to live more like Jesus Christ. Second, practice it without adulterating it or toning it down. Third, emphasize love and make it your working force, for love is central in Christianity. Fourth, study the non–Christian religions more sympathetically to find the good that is within them, in order to have a more sympathetic approach to the people." 

Sometimes it feels that our faith is nothing more than something to dress ourselves up with every once in a while. Something to occupy our time and make us feel busy and wanted and needed. Church is something you do on weekends. Or on certain nights of the week.

But it really shouldn’t be that way. It should be so integral to our very being that we’d know instantly when God is missing, rather than going down a long road and realising that somewhere along the way something has changed. God should be so integral to how you live and breathe and work that people can see Him in you. In the way you speak. In the things you do.

I don’t think integrated is really the right word after all. Integrated implies two separate functions or cycles being combined. Instead, integral means “ necessary to make complete; essential or fundamental”.

So how integral is your faith to you?

#fireplace: on the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month...

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Haggai%202:18-23&version=NASB

I first read this passage a long, long time ago, and reading it, immediately thought 'hey, twenty-fourth day of the ninth month - that's my birthday!' I've learnt since then that the Jewish calendar isn't the same as our current Gregorian calendar, so doesn't exactly refer to 24 Sept, but all the same, there's this feeling that hey, this is for me.

The book of Haggai begins rather dismally. The people of Judah have sown much, but reaped little. They've tried hard to get things going, to get things done, but nothing much is coming to fruition. Then God asks this: Is it time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses while this house [the House of the Lord] lies desolate?

It's a tricky question, but one which I still think is relevant today. Of course, we don't have to build a church building. We have more than enough. We have humongous buildings, even. But the question remains, what are we doing to build the House of God even while we are busy building our own careers/lives/families/empires?

It may sound like it's going to fall back on what man can do for God, but if you read Haggai, it's a series of progressions, of how God leads the people.

The first call, the first question above, comes on the first day of the sixth month. When Zerubbabel and the people of Judah obey and reverence God, God in turn commissions them. And so on the twenty-fourth day of the sixth month, He stirs up their spirits to work on the House of the Lord. 

On the twenty-first day of the seventh month, God encourages them again, saying: "Once more in a little while, I am going to shake the heavens and the earth, the sea also and the dry land. I will shake all the nations; and they will come with the wealth of all nations, and I will fill this house with glory. The silver is Mine and the gold is Mine. The latter glory of this house will be greater than the former, and in this place I will give peace."

(On an aside, strangely enough, this resonates with me at this time. As we celebrated Malaysia Day last week, I wrote about wishing peace over Malaysia. While I was worship leading that weekend, I also recall declaring over the church that the latter will be greater. Coincidence? I don't know.)

Then on the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month, God spoke twice through Haggai. Once, to declare his blessing over Judah, and the second time, declaring his promise over Zerubbabel - and I believe that promise is for me too.

I think in my heart I've wandered far and wide, at times. But the calling is still strong and sure; that as you turn your face towards God, as you set your heart upon Him, and you affirm His Word over your life, He will do great things with you.

Be blessed.

fireplace: How do I know that I love God when I don’t feel anything?

It was a question that came up during our last Headstart meeting. Or well, something like it, anyway. It’s probably been paraphrased quite differently through the many days it’s been running through my head.

For some reason, I remembered the song “Do you love me?” from Fiddler on the Roof.

(Golde) Do I love him? For twenty-five years I've lived with him, fought him, starved with him. Twenty-five years my bed is his. If that's not love, what is?
(Tevye) Then you love me?
(Golde) I suppose I do
(Tevye) And I suppose I love you too

The thing is, we’re so full of Hollywood stories, where love is nothing more than chemistry, sex and emotions that we don’t know how whether we love when we don’t feel the emotions. It’s great to have emotions. But sometimes, you don’t. Sometimes you’re so numb that you don’t feel anything anymore. And you wonder; does that mean that you’ve given up loving? Does it mean that what you’ve experienced isn’t real? Does it mean that there is nothing there anymore? Does it mean you’ve lost your faith?

And I said something that I’ve been believing for a long time now, as trite as it may seem, that your actions prove your love. What keeps you serving in church when you don’t know why you stay? What keeps you hoping and wishing and worrying when the easiest thing is to just give up and go home? Or really, why do you worry that you don’t love God unless you really do?

It may not be the best answer.

I don’t know if we were made with the capacity to keep loving when all feeling is gone. I don’t know if it’s alright to not have any feelings anymore.

But on the other hand, that is what keeping faith is.

Holding on through the broken times.

fireplace: the truth behind the lies

I hate reading Gert Fram. Reading Gert Fram never fails to make me cry. I love reading Gert Fram. It never fails to uplift. Such powerful, evocative words, packed into a mere nine pages. And it is nothing more than fiction. Or maybe, nothing less than fiction.

I was intending to write about the truth behind stories, until I got caught up in googling the phrase “Jesus spoke in parables”. This led me to several interesting sites as well as several kooky sounding ones.

I caught myself thinking as I browsed one site, that this person has it so right… and so wrong.
The next question was: how do I know if she is really right or wrong?
And the question really is this: how do you know that what you believe is true?

Last week at cell, we were asked to share our salvation story.
Salvation stories are intensely personal and difficult to share. Or relatively easy, depending where you stand. How astounding and miraculous your story was, or how mundanely simple. I don’t know.

Maybe it’s this disconnect I have between my emotions and my head, where I can doubt the same things I say I believe in the same span of a thought. Maybe it’s the way that nothing really seems real anymore. And yet everything is. And to be intensely in the moment is of necessity to be intensely physical, to sing louder than anyone else, to dance to the rhythm and tune, because otherwise, I am caught in the web of my head which clinically and analytically asks “and why are you feeling what you are feeling? What are you planning to do next? Where do you intend to go with this thought?” or also, “why do you not feel anything anymore?” And sometimes I believe I understand the need to cut physically, the way I sometimes need to wound my soul in order to feel something, if only pain. Because sometimes pain feels good.

And yet faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen.

And maybe I’ll tell of the truth behind the lies after all, because a well-placed story at a well-timed moment tears your heart in ways the bare-faced facts could never do. Because by stepping out of yourself in that short span of time, you open yourself to be vulnerable to the Story that loops in endless sequences, in countless revisions, in trickles of narrative, or floods of words; the one that always says in the end that man needs a hero. And sometimes the hero echoes that of God, and sometimes, it echoes the works of man, but the immutable truth remains that one man cannot ever save himself.

And maybe Jesus spoke in parables because sometimes it’s the only way to get through.

p/s go read Gert Fram.

fireplace: a call to be faithful. Nothing more, nothing less.

On one of my blog/pinterest surfing sprees some time back, I read this story: Pushing Against the Rock. It wasn't a really new story - I think I've read or heard it in some form or incarnation before, but this time something just struck, especially this bit:

"Lord" he said, "I have labored long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to do that which you have asked. Yet, after all this time, I have not even budged that rock a half a millimeter. What is wrong? Why am I failing?"

To this the Lord responded compassionately, "My friend, when long ago I asked you to serve me and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock with all your strength, which you have done. Never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push. And now you come to me, your strength spent, thinking that you have failed. But, is that really so? Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscled, your back brown, your hands are callused from constant pressure, and your legs have become massive and hard. Through opposition you have grown much and your abilities now surpass that which you used to have. Yet you haven't moved the rock. BUT YOUR CALLING WAS TO BE OBEDIENT, TO PUSH AND TO EXERCISE YOUR FAITH AND TRUST IN MY WISDOM, this you have done. I, my friend, I will now move the rock."

It comes back to that whole bugbear I have with that word expectations. Because the results we expect from our work never seem to be commensurate with the effort we put in - well, in my case anyway. Because sometimes, I seem to expect the world. (Also, I confuse myself because I also assume the worst. At the same time.)

The fact remains is, results, as we see them are irrelevant. True, consistent fails may indicate that something is lacking, something is wrong. And yet, if you look at it again, what were you called to do? You were really called to be faithful, not to achieve. Achievement isn't everything. Yes, it's a useful marker. But as my mother told me a long time ago, losing makes winning worthwhile.

The problem is that we humans need some form of measurement to be proud about. We need to show the world that by doing x and x, I produced xxx amount of money, or "saved" xxx amount of people. Talking in these terms, it seems that only huge rallies produce the results that we think God will be pleased with. It doesn't work that way. Remember, he went for the one missing sheep and the one coin. He didn't say it's the 99 other sheep in the fold that count, or the other 9 coins in my hand that make it alright. It's the one that's lost. And even if it's only one, it's still worth it. 

And that is the most difficult to remember in this results-oriented world.

Fireplace reflection: Church of McDonald's (#atozchallenge)

And so you attend the church of McDonald’s, where a hot cup of tea warms the body but does nothing for the soul, where the savour of golden hashbrowns offers poor nourishment for body and soul, where the Happy Meal only offers you temporary satisfaction, not joy that lasts. But you attend because there is space in the carpark, and people you can ignore, and the music doesn’t make you wish for something more, something otherworldly and no one is judgemental about the things you eat, say and do.

Because they couldn’t care less and sometimes you don’t wish to care either.

And you are alone, as always, of choice, of necessity, because that’s the way this world rolls and no one cares enough for the lost soul in the corner screaming silently. Not even you. Because you are so wrapped up in your own cries for help that you drown out every other noise that seeks to intrude, even the ones that tries to help you. This shell, purely of your own making constricts, limits, pulls you into yourself even as you say you wish to break out, but you are not strong enough.

No, you are not strong enough against you.

And you think to yourself, how is this different from the church which has space enough for people but not enough for the world, which has space enough for rules and regulations and not quite enough for grace and second chances, which has room enough for one more, but not if you don’t act like they wish you to act. How is this church you espouse different from a club you join to push your own agenda, to show off your skills to the world, to tell people, hey look at me, I matter here, somewhere, somehow?

But that is what the church is supposed to do – remind you that you matter.

And so you cut your ties and run because you cannot stand intimacy, because you cannot stand if they see through you, past your hypocrisy, even though you desperately want them to, though you desperately want to be called out and put to rights and told there is more to living large than living loud. And so you run because you cannot love and have never been able to.

Because love makes you vulnerable and you haven’t found anyone whom you can truly be vulnerable to.

And yet again history repeats itself and you come to realization that it has never been the fault of the church, it has never been the people around you, it has never been the programmes you felt were lacking or the passion that was evidently gone, but it has always been you. Because at the core of you, you were always the lonely girl who was never good enough, was never pretty enough, was never kind enough, generous enough, normal enough, lovely enough, was never enough even though in your head you knew that you didn’t have to be.

So you repeat that mantra that Jesus is enough and that’s all I need.

And the problem sometimes is that what’s in your head doesn’t always ring true in your heart, because you’ve learnt to live a lie, you’ve learnt that fiction is sometimes stronger, deadlier, tougher than truth, and somewhere between the words in your heart and the words in your head, you’ve forgotten how to distinguish between the true truth and the fictional truth and where the lines blur, there you falter. Because you’ve always lived in your head stronger than you’ve lived in the world and the disconnect between your thoughts and your actions translate stronger in your inward faith than in the life you live.

Still you hold on, like a bulldog, because you said you would.

And so you hope that your tenacity, your insistence in belief, your will to say I will will be enough to cover the faithlessness in your heart that tells you that what I cannot feel is not real. And you smile gently and nod when people talk about feeling the presence and glory of God to cover up the emptiness and dread inside because you haven’t felt anything in a long time and can barely remember when you did even though you know you did at one point, but it was never as real as they seem to say it is. And you wonder again if it is a fault in your brain and your heart that makes you never live in the moment, never be able to feel real life, except in the words on the page, in the stories that tell themselves in your mind.

But always you need the words, because without words you are not alive.

And you cry again when you remember the words, you have been faithful, spoken over you when you felt the most faithless, wondering if all you were doing was right, because nothing seems right anymore. Nothing seems real. And you wonder if you overextend yourself because you need to live in this state of busyness and comatose reality because it is when you push yourself to the edge and break down is when you are weak enough to feel his arms around you, if only in your head.

It is when you give up trying and break from the norm that you remember how real he is.

And so you attend the church of McDonald’s, exchanging the glory and majesty of songs lifted in worship for a quiet, solitary moment to think and reflect and remember that faith is real, even in faithlessness.

And Jesus lives in your heart.

----

I was going to post this as a fireplace on Sunday, but I didn't want to do two posts in a day or disrupt the A to Z schedule. So this is my post for C.

Sorry Czechoslovak, you've been booted off the list.

fireplace: a common mission, a deeper love

Question: What kind of God would put people through such agony? What kind of God would give you families and then ask you to leave them? What kind of God would give you friends and then ask you to say good-bye?
Answer: A God who knows that the deepest love is build not on passion and romance but on a common mission and sacrifice.
Answer: A God who knows that we are only pilgrims and that eternity is so close that any “Good-bye” is in reality a “See you tomorrow.”
Answer: A God who did it himself.

No Wonder They Call Him Saviour, Max Lucado, pg 21.

Maybe this short snippet caught my attention because that’s what I’ve been writing about. Daniel, the protagonist in our church musical, has lost both his parents. Edmund and Emily Lee have lost their only son. I’ve been delving into loss with this story, curling up around hurt and emotional scars on and off for the past three months. There is a lot of loss, but also a lot of hope, because they find a family in each other - at least Daniel and Emily do.

And yet thinking about it again, maybe what really caught me was that first answer which resonated deep within - that the deepest love is not build on passion and romance but on a common mission and sacrifice. I’ve griped often enough that I’m tired of being single. It hurts to be single sometimes when everyone else seems to have a life partner. It’s tiring when people ask something along the lines of “so when are you going to get one?” as if getting a boyfriend is like browsing on the shelves for an eligible guy and picking one. I’ve liked enough guys in my lifetime but it always comes round to the question of where we’re heading.

As picky as it may sound, I would find it very frustrating to live with someone who does not understand music and who does not understand this overwhelming drive for stories. He doesn’t have to be a musician/singer-songwriter/author/actor/dancer for me to fall in love with him (though any one, or a combination, of those would be awesome), but there must be an ability to appreciate these arts, to get it. There must also be a capacity to work at something to its completion, to sacrifice sleep, to keep pressing on in our craft just because “this was what we were made to do”.

I need him to be the flint, the iron that sharpens iron, the deep that calls out to deep, and I want to be the same for him. But this can only work if we are moving in the same direction, with the same calling.

Oh, I want passion and romance as much as the next girl, but somehow, that’s not enough. I want a life partner with whom I can serve. I want someone who I can partner with in ministry. I’ve always thought that husband/wife teams in ministry are the sweetest thing ever - and also the most effective and powerful.

I know I’ve gone off tangent to what Lucado was trying to say, talking of a ministry that drips with the tears of farewell. I’ve known good-byes. I know impermanence, and the feeling of loss even when there is none. But I also know that He has done this so that there is hope and hellos in our future as well, not only the tears of good-bye.

#fireplace: for the glory of it all

Jeremiah 2:11b (AMP)
But My people have changed their Glory [God] for that which does not profit.

And somewhere in the midst of the dreams, the passion, the pushing on, you have to stop and remember what it’s all for. Because it’s easy to fall into the trap of always wanting more, always wanting the name and the fame, always wanting the glitz and the glam. Then you wake up, with success, but knowing that you’ve still missed it somewhere.

James 4:3(AMP)
[Or] you do ask [God for them] and yet fail to receive, because you ask with wrong purpose and evil, selfish motives. Your intention is [when you get what you desire] to spend it in sensual pleasures.

And maybe because I always second guess myself, always question my motives, sometimes I am still afraid to move on. Even though I have purposed in my heart to go, even though I know why I want to do this, why this is important to me, why I even care, what I believe God is saying about this, there is always this voice that questions:

Do you ask for this mountain purely for yourself?
Do you ask for this because somewhere deep inside, you still desire to be known by man?
Do you ask for this mountain because somewhere inside, you still believe subconsciously that God doesn’t love you enough yet?

So maybe you ask but do not receive, maybe you strive but do not succeed, because you are not yet ready.
But you still press on, because you know He is working in you, and for you.
And His Word does not return void.

---

Re: A to Z blogging challenge -  
I reposted the poll on the sidebar to the left.
Please vote! At current count (on the previous form), I should be writing a new short story series.

#fireplace: Give me this mountain

The question sometimes really is how much do you want it? How much do you want this change you keep talking about, dreaming about, quarrelling over? How far are you willing to go? How dirty are you willing to get?

Dreams aren’t made of shimmering fairy clouds, castles in the air. They’re made out of blood and sweat and tears - how far are you willing to go for this dream of yours?

It was a passing comment in last week’s sermon, but Pastor Doug Norwood mentioned the passage about the lame man who was waiting at the pool called Bethesda for the angel to stir up the waters of healing.

John 5:6-7
When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.”

That’s what we do, isn’t it? When someone asks us how much we want something, we end up giving excuses about why we don’t have it, or can’t.

And then Dr Peter Daniels, in yesterday’s sermon, mentions Caleb and how at 85 years of age, he says, “Now therefore, give me this mountain”. Give me this mountain. Let me take it up as my challenge, as my right, as mine. It won’t be easy. It’s a mountain. It’s a giant. But it’s mine for the taking.

Joshua 14:12
Now therefore, give me this mountain of which the Lord spoke in that day; for you heard in that day how the Anakim were there, and that the cities were great and fortified. It may be that the Lord will be with me, and I shall be able to drive them out as the Lord said.”

—

So give me this mountain.
Give me the impossible sphere of performance arts that nobody understands.
Give me the dance that draws Your Spirit to hover over our assembly in worship.
Liberate my feet, loose my hands, pour forth the words that speak Life.
I am hungry.