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.