Maybe there is no plan B

So I've ridden the wave of euphoria amidst the depths of depression (bipolar, anyone?) and now the question remains: yes or no?

The stressed side of me says yes. The faster, the better. (Ini kalilah?)

The other side of me says don't give up plan A.

Because there is a Plan A and somehow I have this funny feeling that this isn't even Plan B; it was merely a sidetrack. 

The results will tell. 

Lord, make it so clear that even li'l blind me can tell the difference. 

Thoughts from the Prayer Room (30.04.13) #GE13

That the Church will rise in the time of our nation's need
To stand firm and speak boldly for the oppressed and the poor, for the helpless and marginalised, for those who seek justice... and mercy.

That the Church will rise in the time of her own need
To right the wrongs of neglect that she has perpetuated through apathy these past 50 years.

Rise up, Church of Christ

Rise up, Roaring Lion of Judah

Rise up!

Let not fear be the defining tone of this election, but hope. Not hope in man, not hope in a party, but hope for a better future, no matter what happens. 
No matter who wins.
Because that's our what-if, isn't it?
And yet we believe (oh, how hard we believe and try to believe) that God holds this nation in the palm of His hands and HE KNOWS.

So we pray that fear will not define us - not fear of the unknown or even fear of the known, because we can stand assured in the faith that everything has been written by the Author and Finisher of our faith and no matter what happens (no matter who wins!) things have already changed. 

And what we hope is that this watershed election will not mark the fear-mongering, rumour-milling and name-calling as a hallmark of Malaysian politics, but it will mark the coming of age of a democratic process, of the maturing of a people united, of a nation striving for the future together.

Which is the strangest thing you can ever pray for over a country - that those in power would remember that they are a country, a nation, a people called by one name, and the other party may be a foe but never an enemy - but this is where we stand, and this is the Word we need.

#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.

fireplace: centre me

I have, and have had for many years, a little plaything, a toy, something I like to consider and something which sparks off ideas in me. It is simply two circles of heavy copper wire linked together like two links of a chain. I play with this so often that at times I am quite unaware that I have it in my hands. On one occasion I was holding it so the circles stood at right angles to each other.
Anna pointed to one of the circles and said, “I know what that is - that’s me. And that’s Mister God,” she said, pointing to the other. “Mister God goes right through my middle and I go right through Mister God’s middle.”
And that’s how it was. Anna had grasped that her proper place was in God’s middle and that God’s proper place was in her middle.
Mister God, This is Anna, by Fynn.

Some days you just wish that faith could be that simple. That you could just grasp that God goes right through your middle, cutting through everything else.
Because something is askew here, something is off balance.
Too many things crowd out the remembrance that somewhere in your centre, there is someone, waiting to pull all things together, waiting to consolidate your life, to bring things back into balance.

So cut through to my centre. Pull things back into perspective. Make the world spin away, fall away like dust. Enfold me in Your spirit, Your love, Your presence.
Still these juggling balls, these many hats, these many faces, bringing them into orbit around You.
Remind me it’s Your face I seek, not the fame around me. That it’s Your voice that cuts through these hearts, not mine. That it’s Your words that matter, not the little I have to say.
Remind me that it’s everything to do with You and Your glory.
Then let me glory in You.

—

Jesus at the centre of it all
Jesus at the centre of it all
From beginning to the end
It will always be
It’s always been you Jesus
Jesus 

And where is your faith?

[edit: you should read this with the playlist.]

Sometimes I wonder where my faith lies in all this. This pursuit of a better sentence; of words that tug at your heart and try to build; this story that is bursting forth in mouldy rags.

Because somewhere along the way, the tangible presence became an intangible longing, and the intangible prize reached out its arms and masqueraded as the real thing. Ah, it is easier to destroy with a word than to build with a tome. And yet sometimes behind the stories are the kernels of truths, half-forgotten.

I need You, because without You all this is empty. And the longing shows in the depth of it all, because I am shallow. I skim the surface, looking for the emotions that shore me up, lift me up, forgetting the roots that dig deep into the refreshing fountains that never end. Forgetting the foundation that brought me here in the first place.

All of my life, in every season
You are still God, I have a reason
To sing, I have a reason to worship
Desert Song - Hillsong

Still You stay behind the scenes, working unseen the untold stories, playing out the hidden dramas, drawing forth the silent songs. And there is that core that says, return. It calls, drawing me, pushing me, saying there is more. Have you forgotten? These eyes have forgotten heaven in its splendour. majesty in the flesh.

Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God you are higher than any other
Our God - Chris Tomlin

And strength cloaked in weakness bids me come again, to cry out because I cannot. Because my heart is weak; my knees, they knock; my hands, they shake. And again this dream is too big for me to hold, this mystery too vast for me to comprehend, this longing too overwhelming for me to bear. And I need You. And You are there.

So we cry out Your Name, El Shaddai, God of grace
We rely on Your grace, Adonai, crowned in praise
We Cry Out - Gateway Worship (excerpted)

And oh, the depth of this love, so easily forgotten, so easily discarded. Yet it beats; it pounds; it grasps. It never lets go. You never. let. go. And You spur us on, deeper in, higher up, further onwards, to Narnia and the north, to where the unseen realm meets reality, blended in magic and fire and glory and majesty, driven by the Great Myth.

We are His portion and He is our prize
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking
So Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets
When I think about, the way
And oh, how He loves us so
Oh how He loves us
How He loves us all
How He loves - David Crowder Band

Still. all. you. are. Breathe. deep. Remember.

Jesus, Your Name is Power
Breath, and Living Water
Such a marvellous mystery
Revelation Song - Kari Jobe & Gateway Worship

And all He is is all we are and all we are is all of His. And round it goes, the serpent that swallows it's tail in an endless ellipse. And where is your faith in the midst of it all?
Hidden.
In the depths.
Of who you are.
Of who you have forgotten.
Of who you long to be again.

The God I know
Your heart beats within me
As You are, so are we
The God I know - City Harvest Church

trust

What we fail to trust, we will fight.
Why am I fighting you?
I know everything in my brain. So many things in my brain.
But I don't know what I am doing, and why.
Is this part of the plan?
Say yes, because at least knowing that something is supposed to be going right would be a nice feeling right now.
Controversial, you said.
Controversial, I am.
But I never thought it would be this way.
Where everyone else seems to know, but me.
What ever is said, it's not home. It is NOT home.
And I don't know how to fix it.
I give up knowing.
I give up understanding.
Give me the right to be peaceful in my unhappiness.
Let me know it's okay to be unsettled.
Let me know that it's alright to be not alright.
Isn't that where trust comes in?

angst

"But how long can mere responsibility tie me to a place I don’t really feel a part of?"

Dear God,
Are you there?
I thought I knew what you were saying, but I don't know anymore.
So many times I thought... that this was it. This was right. This would work.
But I'm still here, again.
I thought coming back was right. I thought starting CAM was right. I thought I was ready to take flight.
I was wrong.
I thought I could stay. I thought I could finally build. I thought that maybe, this time, something new and beautiful would emerge.
I was wrong.
I thought leaving was right. I thought that if I could only see things from a new perspective, things would be different.
I don't know.
I don't know what you're saying anymore, because there are so many voices crowding me. There are so many past decisions that made sense, that sounded right, that felt right, but now in the light of newer decisions, are clashing together.
And bringing them all together now, I don't know which is right and which is wrong. To go or to stay. To dig and build, or to find a new home.
Maybe the right decision is to just let all of this force me out into going somewhere new, and somewhere fresh, where all the old voices and patterns won't force me back into the shell that I've built around my heart.
I was so sure that I was to be here. Now. Then I was so sure that I was to leave. Now.
All I can say at this moment in time is, I don't know anymore. The voices won't rest, and my heart won't feel.
Maybe that's why I turn up the music, so I won't think. So that I won't hear anything past the blast of sound.
But maybe that's why I'm not hearing you either. Because I won't allow myself to.
I don't know, God.
I can't hear you.
And I don't know if I'm trying all that hard to anymore.
Let me go, but don't.

Find me. Please.

broken

And so is the only way to break this result-oriented mindset to make nothing ever work out?
Drive home the point that it isn't the results that matter. I believe you.
But sometimes I need to see that it's worth doing in the end.
The words aren't coming out the way I intended them, but then again they never do. I don't know why I'm so good with words, but only when it doesn't really matter.

I am afraid of failure - so you let me fail.
Just so you can tell me that it isn't such an issue, and all you want is who I am, that all I can do is nothing compared to all you can.
And it doesn't matter.
Only it still matters to me.
Because sometimes I feel that praying hard doesn't work when all I hoped for doesn't come through in the end.

So I need you to hold my hand.
Because I'm slipping where I should not fall.
And all I've expected of myself is shattered where I cannot find the pieces.
In the dark.

Not tried more than I can bear, but I can't find the exit for this one.
It's like a never-ending maze.
I can't find where you begin.
And every time I piece it together, it slips apart again.

Haven't found you.
Not yet.
Why?

I don't know what I'm doing wrong.

So drive home the point that results don't matter.
Because I'm feeling you, and somewhere, something's right.

11 Nov

Dear God,
It has been a while.
A long while.
I don't know why, I don't know where and I don't know how.
There are simply no words to say, and simply nothing I can do to make it better.
I am distracted. You know why. Couldn't you make it any clearer or am I not reading you right? Am I so caught up that I can't tell the difference anymore?
You work wonders, I know.
Only, the wonder I'm truly waiting for just seems to tantalizingly out of my reach.
I don't want to make the first move. I don't think I should. But all the same, I wish I could. Am I merely being afraid of nothing?
Is this even right?
Sometimes I feel like I can't function anymore.
There needs to be something more concrete than this... living life.
I feel like running away, running and running and never coming back. I'm not handling this right.
I don't think I will ever understand it.
Maybe I'm just not sleeping enough.
I don't want to go on Sat. Not only because I have other plans, but because of what they want to talk about. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to hear about it.
I'm still in avoidance mode, and I know it.
Something's got to give, but I don't know what. I've said this before. But everytime something gives, something else takes it place.
When will this ever end?
I'm tired.
Frustrated.
I wish you could just be here.
Hold me.
Let me know it's going to be okay.
Good night. I'm too tired. I ache all over.
But he was nice today.
And you were good.
So I shall rest happy.
At least.

Yours,
me.