Being Mary

It is believed that the most honored persons in the Bible were Joseph and Mary. They had the priviledge of raising and parenting Jesus. They were with him in the good times and the bad times. They changed his diapers, bathed him, fed him, taught Him everything He knew. They hugged him, kissed his cheeks, tickled him, tucked him in bed, told him stories, and listened to his stories.

Though both Mary and Joseph were with Jesus as He was growing up, Mary stayed with Him the longest. She was with Him from conception, to death, to resurrection, and the ascension. She took Him to the Temple to be dedicated, taught Him scripture, took Him to the Temple, took Him to a wedding, where He did His first miracle. She was with Him as He ministered, watched Him being crucified, and saw Him resurrect. She was all over Him, like a mother is all over her son.

At times I wonder what it felt like to be Mary. To carry the Son of God, God incarnate. To raise Him to be a God-fearing young man, with straight morals. To teach Him right from wrong, and discipline Him when He errs. To teach Him how to interact with others in society, telling Him which social gatherings He should attend, and which He can’t. To watch Him grow from the tiny baby, to a grown man. To listen to Him pout about a chore He doesn’t like, and rejoice over being given a treat. To see him morph from a toddler, to a boy, to a robust teenager, then to an adult.

I wonder whether all her hopes and dreams for Him were fulfilled. Every mother has a hope for her child. She has this predestined plan for her, that deep inside her heart, hopes against hope that it will be fulfilled. She always pictures her child growing into the perfect adult with a respectable job and a wow character. At times I wonder whether this could be said for her. As she raised Him, was she building on any hopes, dreams, ambitions and drives? Did she have a predetermined idea on who Jesus will be? Perhaps the most respected carpenter? Or most revered teacher of the law? Did she wish He would marry and give her some grandchildren? Did she picture Him dying old, and full of life and vigour?

As Mary and Joseph dedicated Jesus in the temple, Simeon predicted that a sword shall pierce her heart. Did it eventually? Was it interesting to watch Him associate with the outcasts – the tax collectors, prostitutes, lowest of the low with such ease and love? How did she react to the news that Jesus had been arrested and was to be crucified on Passover? How painful was it to watch Jesus being tortured and crucified for no tangible reason? How did it feel for her to watch people spite and hate her son, her baby boy?

How was it to have the priviledge of being Mary?

(Im)Perfect Me

The painful moment when everything peels off, and you get to see yourself for who you really are.

In many ways, I’ve always thought of myself as “perfect”. At least according to my standards. I prided myself in arriving to work early, always doing the best I could whenever I was given a task, being very hardworking and diligent, being extra keen as I work, and second-checking everything I do just to make sure it’s perfect.

I also had this habit of wanting to be the best. The best employee. The best girl. The best friend. The best student. The best everything. I felt like I needed to give my all. Being a model employee, student, friend, and whatever role that was placed in me was the best and only way I knew to be a productive member of society.

So, until recently, I went about being the perfect girl I was. But something happened that opened my eyes to my imperfection. I did something that was to undergo scrutiny. I was invited to write two articles for a magazine. Writing the articles was hard, but not as hard as watching it being edited. As I was writing them, I knew mine was the best, after all, my diligence, determination and hard work would amount for something. As I was handing in my finished work, the person I handed it to said, “Oh thanks. Now I’ll have to take it for editing.” Oh well, I thought to myself, the editor won’t have a hard time.

Whether the editor had a hard time or not is unknown to me, all I remember was seeing the article and almost tearing up. It had been rearranged and redone. Some sentences were plucked, others enhanced, to make it fit the editor’s tastes.

I had to eat humble pie and realize that I am not as perfect as I thought. My eyes were opened to discover that I was living in a bubble, and I needed someone to burst it so I could live in reality. I had to understand that I need people to help me polish up, and in spite of being the hardworking, diligent, girl I am, I still am not perfect, no matter how much how hard I work.

I now realize how imperfect I am, and I need others to help me achieve what I truly want to be.

Change

It is believed that change is normal. Change is inevitable. Stagnation is abnormal, in fact, it is serious reason to worry. Change has to happen, whether we like it or not.

I have a love-hate affair with change. I love and hate it with equal measure. I embrace and spit at it at the same time. Moving from one thing to another is something I almost fight with. I can't live with change; I can't live without it either.

The worst thing about change is that it rips away the normal. It makes me feel uncomfortable, because it's in the unknown. Everything familiar goes, and I have to make what's new and strange familiar. Many times it's painful and confusing. It's almost like groping about in the dark, hoping it will all work out right.

As I move from change to change, I realized there are two types of changes: The good change, and the bad change.

The good change makes the heart beat faster. It's the change the heart always yearns for, the change we long for. It's like oxygen, it makes life much easier. Like taking a vacation. Or meeting the person of your dreams. Or finally getting admitted to a university (or getting the much-desired job). Such changes makes us jump out of our skins in jubilation, the world feels like the best place to be.

Then there is bad change. Change that breaks your heart. Change the makes life feel like such a burden. Like during a break-up. Or when a close friend moves. Or losing your job (one that you really, really love). These changes make you want to shut yourself out of this world. Everything suddenly becomes dark and almost pointless.

All in all, as time goes by, I realize I have to make the most out of it. Because, when all is said and done, change makes me better, stronger, wiser. It, in its own ways, moves me from one glory to another; from one level to another.

Going the whole nine yards

A while ago, I taught a class of some rather spontaneous students. And one of the out-of-the-blue things they did was to ask for an exam they weren't prepared for.

The students came to class, and out of the blue, one of them decided that they wanted to do the exam. She insisted that she wanted to do the exam on that very day, never mind that she hasn't previously studied for it. The other exams were overwhelming her, and she felt like getting over and done with the class I was teaching would give her some relief. And the others jumped in and joined her. They complained of the stress of dealing with so much work, and throwing one piece of load from the bandwagon would make things so much lighter. They even were OK if they failed the paper, just as long as it was out of the way.

So, half-heartedly, I accepted. I gave them the paper, seriously half-heartedly. I knew what it is they were asking, they were pretty much jumping off the twentieth floor hoping to land alive. But I gave it to them anyway. And oh, the complaining I heard during the exam! The ooohs, and aaahs, and what-the-heck-is-this and oh-my-God were seriously overwhelming. My heart really went out to them.

As I was watching them, and feeling really hurt for them, I wondered: How many times have I done the same thing? How many times have I asked God for something, insisted and almost thrown a tantrum, only to mourn when it comes my way? How many times have I justified doing something, magnifying the positives, only to be crushed and hurt when all is said and done?

Am I really willing to go the whole nine yards? When I make a request, am I making it from a wish-upon-a-star point of view, without thinking of the consequences? Am I ready to deal with the downsides that come with the decisions I make? Am I being prudent, or just wishful?

 Am I asking for rain, then complaining about the mud?

When I was wise…

Once upon a time I was wise. Or at least I thought I was. I figured out I knew everything there is to know about everything. I was totally Ms. Know-It-All. I knew everything, from the little things like how to brush your teeth, to the big things, like how to parent. I'd read the books, watched the show, heard from the "wise ones", and pondered on everything they said. I felt totally wise. Ask me anything, and I'll reply well. I'll let my springs of wisdom flow freely as you drink deeply.

Or so I thought.

How wrong I was!

Because, as time went by, I realized that there's more to wisdom than just watching and reading. There's experience. Everything I knew and pondered on was tested - sometimes by fire. All my "wisdom" was sifted like wheat. And I realized how not-so-wise I was. I'd depended too much on others, what they said, what they thought, at the expense of reality. I came face to face with my folly. I felt the nothingness of my wisdom.

So I decided to do it different. Not that I throw away all that I've learned, but I do more than that. I'll step down from my high horse of "Dr. Wiseman" and take time to use what I've learned to better my knowledge base. I'll take time to ask myself the questions, to learn; to really, really learn; and to realize that learning never ends.

Daniel

Daniel is one of the most popular people of the Bible. He is known for heroic deeds – sleeping in the lion’s den without being devoured, eating vegetables and water, and being healthier and wiser than all the wise men and interpreting dreams.

 In all these occasions, what seems to be outstanding is how God comes to save them. He gave them wisdom even when they ate way less than the others. He came through for Shadrach and his friends when they were thrown into a hot furnace. He came through for Daniel when he was thrown in the lions’ den.

The one thing not many people talk about is his diligence to God. Daniel is a man who loved God, and wasn’t afraid to show it. He openly showed his devotion to God. He asked the cook to make him and his friends a meal of vegetables despite the fact that the cook had been given strict orders not to do so. He asked the king for three days of prayer when the king had ordered that their head be chopped off. He prayed in public, on an open window, when the king had just minutes before ordered that he alone is to be worshipped.

 He stuck to God like glue even when death stared at him in the face. He was loyal to God when his enemies made traps to end him because of what he believed. He prayed and fasted, and was in constant communion with God. God was the centre of his life, and not vice versa.

 
No wonder, when all was done, God said to Him, “As for you, go your way till the end. You will rest, and then at the end of the days you will rise to receive your allotted inheritance”

Groping about in the dark

Things are getting more and more confused. What was obvious is becoming less and less obvious. The light at the end of the tunnel is starting to dim, everything is pitch black.

All my laid out plans are vanished in thin air. My perfect plan A fell apart, plan B didn't even launch, plan C sounds like a joke from Comedy Central. What I thought I was turned out to be a fallacy; I was deceiving myself and walking on cloud nine. The people I thought to be my "friends" seem more of fans; they're there just for the show, and I give a very good show.

I feel like I'm groping about in the dark. I have no particular sense of direction. I'm totally dependent on faith and hope to get thru this. My eyes are failing me. I 'm all alone. I need to be moving on, but I don't know where. I need to make myself better, I don't know how. I feel battered by life, and left on my own.

So I wait. I exercise my hope and faith and wait. Waiting for hope, waiting for the day to come. Waiting for the light to come up again. Waiting for life to become bright and new. I have faith that all will come to pass, and I will smile again. I wait for a fresh breath of life, an infilling of joy, and peace to get me thru.

There’s still hope

Things are moving from bad to seriously horrible. Times are hard. The economy is getting worse, things are becoming more expensive.  What was earlier defined as “affordable” is being redefined as “unaffordable”. People are reviewing their items: what was thought of as a necessity is slowly being dumped in to the luxury list. Shopping, for many, is slowly becoming more of a painful necessity than of a fun thing to do. Before, it was fun to do “inky-pinky-ponkey” on the different items on the shelf to decide what to buy. Now, it’s “Oh my gosh! I can’t afford any of these!”

The worst part of it is that the income isn’t getting any better. Then notes and coins don’t seem to be expanding with the economy, in fact they seem to shrivel and wilt. The boss still doesn’t see enough reason to give the pay hike. The second job doesn’t seem to come; in fact, some companies have serious intentions to downsize to make ends meet. The money famine hits, and does this very, very hard. It’s drenching hot, and everybody’s noticing.

“I don’t even know where my money’s going!”

“I’ve officially reserved milk for Christmas. There’s just not enough money for it.”

“No more frequent visits to my parents. All communication will be online from now on”.

“Geez, with this economy who can afford getting children?”

  But, in the midst of all this hopelessness, hope can be found. Not just wishful thinking or escapism, but real hope. Serious hope. Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.Take my yoke and learn from me, for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light". Jesus calls us to him for hope. He offers hope, free of charge. He gives us peace, the peace that passes all human understanding. He promises to take our heavy burdens, and give us his light one. He gives us rest, he makes us to rest. What He offers is incomparable to anything, and can be our help in time of need.

So, whether the note stretches or not, whether the money goes or comes, whatever it is, there's still hope.

Creating and recreating

God is in the process of creating and recreating my life, even though I don't know and see it. He is in the process of scripting my life, every minute of it.

He knew me before I was, knows me when I am, and after I am. He knows me when I 'm naughty and when I'm nice. He knows what I think before I even think it.

He orchestrates my life. He puts together all the good and bad things alike. He co-ordinates the good, bad and ugly to work all out. He makes things beautiful in His time, His kind of beauty, for His glory. He creates new situations, beautiful moments, and wonderful experiences. He also creates the dark and scary moments so I can learn to trust Him and remember who's in control.

He scripts my life. He knows what situation to bring at what time, what word to speak to me, and what moment to let me experience. He knows my role, He brings the right scenes, and speaks to my heart the right words to speak. He leads me through life, as the Master Scriptor, to ensure that I do as required.

God also recreates. He recreates the wasted years, the broken heart, the blurred vision, the eaten moments. He recreates my hopes, dreams and ambitions. He recreates me from the ashes and terrible stuff to new and beautiful creation. He recreates hopelessness into hope, and dead situations into abundant life.

He is a creator and recreator, he creates and recreates, and will do thus until I breathe my last.

Only God can

When I feel overwhelmed with life and all its ups and downs, when I feel like things aren't working like it's supposed to, when I feel stuck and can't go on...

When all my plans have failed, when my neat and squeaky clean plans get dirty, when my beautiful intentions feel like the worst form of propaganda...

When everyone I call friend doesn't understand or care, when those that are to help me cause my ruin, when those that I run to for help have had enough of me...

When I can't carry myself any more, when I feel like I weigh more than ten trucks and its early in the morning, when gravity feels more like a magnet pulling me down...

When the clouds are grey, the thunder roars, the rain pours, and there seems nothing to smile about...

When I can't jumpstart myself, then only God can.

Only God can take me from where I am, stuck, lonely, confused, heavy-laden, tired and move me on. Only God is strong enough to handle me in my weakest moments. Only God can bear to be with me when nobody can stand me. Only God can shelter me in the rain. Only God knows the end from the beginning, and orchestrates my life.

When I've more questions than answers, only God can.

A mile in God's shoes

At times I wonder how God feels, and how it feels like being God. I know it’s an overwhelming feeling, but at times I tend to want to experience just a little bit of it.

 

Like, how does it feel like to know EVERYTHING? To know more than everyone in the world combined? To know what was, is and is to come? How does it feel like to know what people have discovered before they have even discovered it? Is it weird to know the end of a thing before it even begins? Is it strange to know how humans feel without being human? Is it mind-boggling to know humans even more than they know themselves, yet not be able to open their eyes to the total truth?

 

Or, how does it feel to be EVERYWHERE? To be both in heaven and on earth (or even in Hell)? To see everywhere at the same time? Is it confusing to be at a wedding and a funeral at the same time? Is it strange to be in the hottest and coldest deserts at the same time? Does it feel weird to be in all the time zones at the same time? Or in the quietest and noisiest places in the same moment?

 

Is it overwhelming to live outside time? Do you ever feel pressed for time? Does it feel annoying when humans subject you to time? How does it feel when a thousand days are like a day, and a day like a thousand? How does it feel not to worry about being too late or too early, too much traffic, nightfall, day break, not enough sleep? How is it living outside something you created?

 

Truly, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get such experiences (maybe after I get to Heaven), or even ask God such questions. But every so often, these thoughts cross my mind. Maybe, just maybe, somewhere between now and forever God will give me the opportunity to experience it. But between now and then, they remain just that – a deep desire.

Hearts and homes

All our hearts have space in them. There's space to accommodate people. Some have huge hearts, some have hearts as tiny as a mouse hole.

Our hearts were created for many, many, things; and I seriously believe that one of the reasons is to house others. We were all built with a huge capacity for relationships. We were wired with a need for each other, to love and be loved. We were created to connect with each other, to have a relationship with each other. Our hearts were built to house each other and care for each other. God's bigger picture included that we be sisters and brothers, each other's keepers.

Hence the space in our hearts. God put space in our hearts to enable us connect to each other. He gave us space to home others. And we are all to use the space wisely, making use of every available inch. We are to make the place hospitable and allow others to make home, and also home ourselves in others' hearts.

As earlier stated, others use most of the space, creating huge mansions out of them. They make them warm and comfortable, and welcome all who are in need. Their hearts welcome all, and all who make their way there feel at home. Such people are richly rewarded, as their hearts are never cold. They get warmth from others, and others give them warmth. Their lives are full and happy.

Then there are those whose hearts are so tiny, creating space for only themselves. They don't take time for anyone, they don't even care much about anyone. All they care about is themselves, their money, their this, their that... They build empires around them and allow nobody to share in their good stuff. Such people come to utter ruin in the end. Their lives are sad and cold. They live lackluster lives. Many of them fall to utter regret when all is said and done.

So take time to make your heart a home, create a relationship.

Walking on thin ice

Life can spit on us various situations. Some are peasant to go through - a promotion, a engagement to the one you love, the birth of a healthy child, a beautiful wedding, or anything that makes you smile, or makes your heart skip a beat. Then there are the horrible ones - they make life seem like a lengthy nightmare. The death of a loved one, failing an exam, demotion or being fired, divorce or a break-up, or anything that could cause your heart deep depression.

And then there are the times that you almost don't know what to do. Because they involve hard tasks, making decisions that are almost life-threatening. They involve a certain loss, either a job, a child, a spouse, an activity, something that makes your heart feel like it's been split in two. Such times feel like the world is caving in on you. The stomach rumbles as you make the decisions, the heart paces faster than fast. Everything seems to be totally confused.

The worst decisions are the social ones. Social decisions are terrible, because they cause some sort of death. Who you are in the public limelight is assassinated. Your friends can do a mass exodus on you. Your family may end up disowning you. Such decisions are walking on thin ice, knowing that at any given time, the ice will break, and you'll drown. They require deep thought. Especially when it boils down to either sacrificing your values, or putting your principles on the line. Whether to go to the party down the club because everyone is going and it will be "fun", or staying at home because your principles dictate that you only engage in activities that are socially productive. Or following office gossip "to keep in the know", or sitting aback refusing to engage in activities that are harmful to others' reputation.

These decisions require the intervention of Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith. Much as they are hard to make, Jesus promises to be with us when it hurt, when the consequences of making te right decisions are much too heavy to bear. He promises to never leave us or forsake us, and that He will be there for us till the end of age.

So, the next time you're walking on thin ice, call on Jesus to carry you through.

Forgiven

There are those moments when the past haunts, when what I've done follows me like a sick puppy. When all I've done keeps me from moving on. It holds me, it chains me down. I feel its pangs biting deep inside my mind.

There are times I see what I've done. My mind flashes the wrong I did to others, the mischief I planted on someone else, the betrayal I did to a dear friend, the harsh words I spoke to a stranger. Images of me in my very worst are loaded on my mind. The horror movie plays vividly, clearly and in 3D. I see the horror I can potentially become.

There are times when I see the wrong others did to me. Mainly because I faulted in a way. The impatient teacher who wondered what was wrong with me because I can't get what they're teaching. The annoyed friend who thinks I'm irresponsible because I forgot to do something they asked me twice to do. The agitated boss who gives me a piercing look just because I couldn't make the deadline.

Such times make me wonder what I am, who I am, and whether I really belong. My perfection is questioned, my loyalty and love for others is put on the test. Most of all, my Christian walk is placed under fire. The full weight of my imperfection weighs heavily on me, making it impossible to move, or even look up. The horror of what I've done, coupled with the guilt of what I've taken others through eats up to the marrow of my bones. I feel... worthless.

Then God steps in. Through a hymn, like "Amazing Grace". Or through a sermon, or a friend. Other times through a tweet, a Facebook status, or a text message. He reminds me of what He did for me on the cross. He assures me of His love for me. He asks me to draw nigh to Him. He tells me that His perfection is all I need, for man wasn't created to be perfect. He calls me to confess my sin, and promises He'll never remember them once I do that.

He offers free forgiveness. And once I feel forgiven, I feel free. I feel light. The problems may not have gone, but the fact that Jesus loves me for who I am, and accepts me for me makes me feel all the more worth. He calls me His own, the sheep of His pasture.

The sweet feeling of forgiveness is incomparable. It's uplifting, it's what keeps me going.

Simply trusting

The awkward moment, when, after doing all that you can, it all crumbles and falls apart. When you've put all your effort, time, ability, emotion; and it still doesn't work. When you've loved all you could, cared with all your emotion, worked with every bone of your body; but it all goes to waste. When, after all is said and done, you have nothing to show for what you did.

Such moments makes us feel sad, wasted, or, in the worst of cases, totally useless. We feel helpless and distraught. Reminds me of a line from a song: "After you've done all you can, you just stand." We feel like the  person who wrote that song: After all fails, all you can do is stand. And stare at the remains. And let the tears flow freely.

And putting it all in God's hands. For God delights in making beauty out of trash. And wiping away tears. He loves to hold us and call us His own. For He gives "Beauty out of ashes, strength for fear, gladness for mourning, and peace for despair". And calls us to trust Him, for He has "good plans...plans to give you a hope and a future". He calls us to call on Him, and He will "Answer us, and show us great and mighty things, which we have not yet known".

He calls us to trust Him. Trust Him even when they all fall apart. When all else fails, and you're left confused as to what to do next. When all hope is burnt to the ground. He calls us to trust Him. Put it all in His hands, and let Him have His way.

When all is said and done, all we can do is simply trust Him.

Confused

The moments I know yet don't know what I want. Those times I feel like doing yet not doing something. The sad times when I know what I need to say, but not how to say it. The awkward moment when I say something and mean something else. The moments I'm confused.

At times I find such moments quite humbling. I realize I'm not the queen of it all, know-it-all. I realize I can and do blunder, I am not sufficient in and of myself. I realize there's a God who cares, and I'm humbled to realize He knows what I mean, need and can meet all my needs sufficiently. He doesn't get confused with me. He knows me inside out, He feels me, even when others are stuck on what I mean. I realize I'm limited, and needs God to complement me.

Such times make me feel angry. Angry at me for not being able to achieve my objective. Or not getting the results I want. My humanity makes me want to fall apart and ask why. I realize that not everybody gets me, and not everybody will always get me. I realize that miscommunication is a possibility, and life can fail you too. I understand that anger is part of life, it's just how you respond to it that matters.

I also realize that you can't always get what you want. Confusion can lead you to the wrong path, sometimes the way wrong path. And you have to turn back to where you begun, to get it right again.

Being confused is a part of life. What matters is how you deal with it.

Loving your friends, enemies and everyone in between

We all live, work, play, worship in environments. And every environment has a community.  And every community has sub-communities, groups, cliques, and whatever other groups needed to make things roll in the community.

Every community has the in and out crowd. The in crowd is the hot crowd, the one "with it", the one who makes things happen. Then there's the out crowd. The one that's there to be seen and not to be heard. Their opinion doesn't matter, it isn't taken seriously anyway. They're there to fill space, to make the community a community. They're almost like the extras in the community.

The one thing that makes me go wah is the determinant of who goes in, and who stays out. I find it rather awkward, to say the least, on who decides who to go to the in or the out crowd. Especially for a newcomer. Once a new person joins a society, every other member stares and looks to see what they do, see, and how they're like, then dump them to either the in-group or the out-group.

I find it interesting, though that Jesus says to love your neighbour as yourself. Interesting in the fact that it transcends groups, cliques and sub-communities. He says to love the out-group like you love the in-group. That's easy when the people to love are good, easy going, so you, and all that stuff. People who you feel, and who feel you. But the people who get to your last nerve, who hates you, or call you all manner of names? Those whose manners irritate you to the core? Those in the out-group? Love those?

Yeah. Love those. Jesus said to love. They'll know we're His disciples with the way we love our friends, enemies, in-group, out-group, clique, every other sub-community. We are, eventually to love everyone, those in the in our neighbourhood that we feel we're better off without.

Because, eventually, we all need each other, either directly or indirectly. And it isn't the funniest or easiest thing to ask for help from someone you don't love.

Things I'd never thought I'd say

I'd never thought I'd use thirty to describe my age. When I was younger, thirty was seriously old and eternity away. It was supposed to take forever to come. Now, I'm thirty-one, feeling kinda old. The eternity just arrived.

I'd never thought I'd be single by age thirty. In my perfect little plan, I was to marry at twenty-two, have two children by twenty-four, and live happily ever after. Well, it seems like God had other plans for me.

I'd never thought I'd be shy of my age. Not that I don't like my age, I just don't like the "You mean you're that old!!" statements. They make me feel like I'm a hundred.

I'd never thought I'd wish time would slow down. When I was younger, I craved growing up so I do things like grownups. They looked so independent. Now I'm grownup, I don't see anything fancy about it. There's no independence. Just many responsibilities.

I'd never thought I'd want the youthfulness to stay. Just to linger for a while. So I don't have to wrinkle in the face, or use more cream on my face, or lose the energy. Especially the energy. I still want to have all that energy and more so I can do all I can without struggling much.

Oh well, so time flies, and I find myself doing and saying things that I'd never thought I'd say. I guess it is true - it all comes in the sweet by and by.

Ain't got time to die

When I was in university, our choir director once taught us a song:

Lord, I keep so busy serving my Jesus,
Keep so busy serving my Jesus,
Keep so busy serving my Jesus,
Ain't got time to die.

Coz it takes all of my time to praise my Jesus,
All of my time to praise my Lord,
If I don't praise Him, the rocks gonna cry out,
"Glory and Honour! Glory and Honour!"
Ain't got time to die.

At that time the song was catchy, nice, and very sing-along to. Loved it to bits. But as I grew, something kept standing out to me about the song. The person who sang that song was too busy serving Jesus, he didn't want to die. Hmmm... Too busy serving Jesus. And the next verse makes it all rather twisted. Serving Jesus took all of his time to praise Him. Apparently, he's been so busy serving Jesus, he didn't take time to praise Him.

There's two things that struck me in that song. First, the fact that He was too busy serving Jesus. Meaning that from the time he woke up to the time he went to bed, all he did was serve him. Serve Him while taking a shower. Serve Him while brushing his teeth. Serve Him while spreading the bread and making coffee.. Serve Him, serve Him, serve Him. Everything was service. To the point that dying was nowhere near an option. He'd rather serve him than meet him? Was it a good thing? Maybe. Maybe not. Paul says that for him, to live is Christ, but to die is gain. Was he feeling the same thing? I don't know. But from the looks of things, he was so caught up serving, that meeting Jesus was... not there.

Second, the fact that serving Jesus took all of his time praising Jesus. Kinda sad, if you ask me. It reminds me of Mary and Martha. When Mary was at the feet of Jesus, Martha was running around doing this and that, cooking, preparing, making meals (and don't ladies know this well?). It took all of her time to enjoy the presence of her guest. She didn't enjoy the beauty and joy that came along with being with Jesus. She didn't take time to praise and connect with Jesus, all she did was run around. And so did this person. So when the option of dying was floated, he was like: "I can't!! I've spent too much time running around, I can't die. I haven't even felt His presence, told Him how much I love Him, how much He means to me! I just can't die!!"

Sad, but true. We all spend too much time serving and doing things, that matter, yet don't matter. Let's take time to set things straight- take time to strengthen what we have with Jesus - and when the time comes we say, "Oh Jesus, here I come!"

Royal Awesomeness!

Interesting that the Bible calls us a royal priesthood, a holy nation. I do find that interesting, because, in my normal day-to-day life, I haven't ever considered myself as royal. Holy, maybe; because I try every single day (with God's help) to live a life that's honorable and pleasing. But royal?

Do you know what royal entails? Real royalty? It entails more than just the name. It goes way to the clothing - they must be perfect, and look like something valuable; the mannerism - no behaving like a goon or jungle beast; to the abode - the room should look neat, not like a pigsty... the list is endless.

God's royalty is much like earthly royalty, though it has is fair share of differences. God's royalty is spiritual royalty, royalty that starts from the inside out. Earthly royalty starts from the outside in - everybody got to see you "get royal" to truly appreciate your status. The dressing too matters. Spiritual royalty deals more with inner beauty. The Bible talks about being clothed with righteousness, to put on love, put on the full armor of God (none of which deals with armory and attire).

And the mannerisms? God's standards is love - love your neighbour, enemy, supervisors, employees,... love, love, love. With that comes submission - wives to their husbands, and submission to those in authority (which includes praying for them). There's also the issue of forgiveness (seventy times seven - Oh so many times!), forgiving freely, holding nothing back.

 And then there's our abode - Heaven. Oh so sweet Heaven. Made of pearls and gold. Made of nothing but pure niceness. God's glory are its light. The beauty is untold. Only royalty  - God's royalty abides. Those who call Him Lord, and He calls them His children. The pure, the holy, those who have the dressing and mannerisms of His Royalty.

That, my friends is royalty. Real royalty. And I still wrap my mind around the fact that he calls me royal. Mind blowing, yet true. Very true.

Searching

Strange how, in this world, all we do is search. From the time we're born to the time we die. We search for lost keys, directions, toys... the list is endless.

The whole searching thing starts when we're young. Whenever you lose or misplace anything, the first question anyone asks is "Where did you put it?". Then you start searching. Or when Mum leaves for work, and  you're still asleep, when you wake up the first question is "Where's mum?" Then you start searching. Or when you're hungry, and you can't find food. You start searching.

As you grow, the searching increases. And it intensifies. Who am I? Who are my friends? Why am I here? Where am I going?... Will it all end? How?

The strangest thing about searching is that as soon as you find the answer to one, another one pops up. Or the more you search, the more you get lost. It's like one strange maze of searching. Weird it is, it's like we're somewhat wired up to be constant searchers.

Or maybe God did make us to be constant searchers. Maybe he wired us to yearn to know, to realize, and to discover. He wired us to look around and make good use of our brain. Most of all, He wired us to search so we can search for and find Him. And drink deeply of all He has to offer. Our search-ability is so we can draw close to our Maker, and make Him more than a Maker, to make Him a friend.

So, if by any chance  you're searching, search for God. Once you find him, all the search in the world will be fulfilled with Him.

The awkward moment when...

...when you know what to do but don't do it. Then you get a sick feeling in your tummy because of the guilt.

Or when you feel super-macho and do things that are out of your jurisdiction. And you mess everything up.

Or when you promise to do something, and don't get around to doing it. Then you feel like you wish you could vanish as soon as the person you promised shows up.

Such is life. A collection of awkward moments.

Slow Down

Life is often times way too rushed. We are always in a hurry to go somewhere, to do something, to be someone, to eat something... And in the process we end up losing things, forgetting people, getting confused, getting lost, and if we are (un)luck, your head goes bonkers.

A rushed life is anything but fun. The stress involved is overwhelming, depressing and annoying. The fact that you're constantly thinking of hurdles and obstacles makes it all the harder. Each day begins with "Oh No!" and ends with "Glad that's done!" Life becomes a bitter pill to swallow. Thinking becomes a terrible chore.

The one antidote to rush is slow down. As impossible as it sounds, there's nothing more curing than slowing down. Take your time to do the task, to fall in love with the task. Take the opportunity to talk to people, to smile and laugh with them. Take time to smell the coffee, and not just gobble it down your throat. Take time to smell the flowers, and not just give a quick glance.

Most of all, rest in Jesus. He says "Come to me all you who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Call on Him when things become too much. Rest in Him. Quiet down, and enjoy His presence. Fall in Love with Him. A session with Him will never leave you the same at all.

So stop sprinting through life, and take time to relax.

Worship

Worn

Don't give up, He still has you

The pursuit of busyness

This life is busy. Busy, busy, busy. Busy from the day we're born, to the day we die. Busy doing this or that. Everything grabs our attention,and doesn't want to leave until and unless attended to. From the unpaid bills to  a pile of dirty dishes in our sink, there is so much stress on what to do and how.

Unfortunately, for us humans, the work keeps on piling. Every day, from the time you wake up, to the time you go back to bed, something is beckoning for attention. Some screaming for more attention than others. Some way too annoying, others you'd be delighted to do. Those that your boss forces down your throat, those that you have no option but to do.

Sadly, for many, the busyness ends up killing the joys of life. Too much to do, too little time, so they got to do as much as they can and stretch themselves to the max, just to clear everything in due time. Others just give up altogether, others still pay someone to get it done.

Busyness has also its unfair share of demerits, one of them being it can steal you from what truly matters - relationships. Nothing is as important in this world as relationships. They keep us together, they help us do what we need to. They are our emotional bag of oxygen, without them life can feel like disaster in the making.

So, whatever you do, do not let your busyness jeopardize your relationships. Don't assassinate people at the altar of busyness. Take time to love and be loved, to appreciate and be appreciated, to enjoy and be enjoyed. Most of all, don't forget your Maker, your Lover, your Lord and your God. One who loves you with an everlasting love, whose loving kindness never fails. A relationship with him is most precious, most important, and most rewarding. Love him first and best, don't be too busy for him.