Cling to the Cross

Complicated circumstances clouding your view, leaving you without a clue about how much gravity it would take to keep your feet on the ground. Trying to resist the temptation to carry out a grand orchestra with songs as rare as a fantasy locked in the grave of a story teller.

Once upon a glimpse of time, there used to be a herald standing in front of you, improvising your motives on all walks of life.

In your fear to stop being the architecture of great words, you shun from the Giver of words. You know for yourself that He alone holds the chronometer of life but you still risk painting the sky with your own dreams. “You will never learn” says a fellow thief. “I’ll be waiting for you to fail again” says a failing mortal soul. You ran out of alibis this time and you ended up responding in defeat, “Maybe they are right”.

And the gloomy afternoons of your memories rushed to the dark nights of your guilt. The pride that escorted you to your downfall is now disguised as shame and prevents you from rising again. You prefer the ground; you say to yourself there is not much air for you to breathe you might as well remain lying down. And so you did.

Meanwhile on the other side of life called destiny, the road is filled with human beings moving on. Artists crafting new ideas, politicians stitching new promises to be worn, infants enjoying their milk while hope builds up in their fragile heart, hearts are breaking up, families being united, love being lost, friends leaving friends, strangers welcoming each other, and foes reconciling with their enemies. There’s a lot going on around you, would you still lie down?

You tried getting up but the mud you’re lying in is so thick, it hesitates to let you go, you are glued to destruction. You keep turning your head on all directions, you are looking for anything to hold on to, anything just to keep you out of that mud. Guess what? You are lying in a pile of mud; the nearest part of the earth near you is a rocky road. You give up. There’s no use to find your own way out. And as you lie down, you tried one unfamiliar thing that you have never tried before. You lay still. And there you see parallel to where you are is the sky; the cumulus calmness brought a sudden peace to the angry waves of your anxieties. And then you remember these words “My peace I leave to you”.

This place looks familiar, you are right. This is the same place that He went when He joined His Father in heaven. The early believers of the church were staring on that same place you are staring right now. They can never be wrong, they rejoiced in hope and continued to do so even up to the most grueling deaths in the hands of their persecutors. It is how He touched your life. From the manger, to the cross, to the tomb, then beyond the tomb, He went straight to His throne.

It’s the only hope there is for saving you. The world behind you, the cross before you. No turning back, no turning back.1

He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth2

Great is your God!

Sleep in peace as the day dawns; leave everything to Him who is all knowing. His grace has made you whole, His love has proven it all and all you need to do is be still and know that indeed Jesus is Lord!3

Notes:

1. Paul Baloche and Matt Redman, "I Cling to the Cross" 2007, Ingerity's Hosanna! Music.

2. Psalm 40:2-3 NIV

3. Psalm 46:10 NIV

Leaving a trail

Leaving a trail
Originally uploaded by Blessed.Wind

It came to pass that you left home...far from where I am standing you stood your ground...with an honest heart you bid goodbye...Though you wanted to stay, there lies a greener pasture on the other side of the valley...not for your sake but for those you loved...as the clouds flew with you, I fared you well...not letting you know that your heart is in danger, I chose to stay...thank you for not going too far....thank you for leaving a trail for my blood stained footsteps to follow...I never knew you would stop and wait for me somewhere down that dark road...but there you were, with your usual silent stare...I was not ready for it but you gave the fiercest blow that shattered all my faults into pieces...you gave love when hatred was all there is for me...you gave love when the guns of treason I fired came rushing back to me...you gave love when the only shield I have left is death...thank you for your love...may I have enough life enough to give you back even half of what you gave...i love you!

Between a pen and a paper lies a black ink.

Obhet Cristobal, Singapore

The ink is almost dry as the pen suffocates itself with frivolous relaxation. And in the affluence of a semi-charmed kind of life, the price tag did not reveal how much life is really worth. Instead there is a very distinct mark on the worn-out piece of paper, and it reads “fill in the blank”.

Friday evenings are not the same as it used to be, the once familiar excitement of Saturday’s first hour becomes an unfamiliar longing to rest. The motivation to think that was once the result of a romantic moment with nature suddenly becomes a rushing desire to sink in the covering of a nylon bed piece.

Life transforms so easily, it’s either you're aware of it or you just realize it, most of the time you get surprised by the grains of sand adorning the tip of your weary sandals. You are never sure where you came from in as much as you are sure that you are not supposed to be where you are. The need to pursue a path becomes a tragic craving to bring your steps to a halt.

Is it the long road ahead that’s taking your time or is it the time taking different roads that heads to nothingness?

The soul is confused, while the logic is diffused.

When life’s recipe is left with only a concoction of comedy and common sense, you will soon find out that there’s not much left on the table to enjoy. Suddenly you search for greener pastures, you look for the lighter shade, you remember a choral fest of silence that slowly builds up to a ferocious stillness. The quiet wild that hinders you from dancing with the wind.

“Take me with you”, says your heart to the mirror in front of you, but the mirror could only whisper, “I could only go where your eyes could stare, if only you would not turn your back on me and forget how I look like”

Rubbish!

All these are rubbish. You wish to sing a new song and enjoy the miracle of the moment, you’re tired of swinging back and forth between the altar and the door but you are pretty sure you will fail again.

The only way is to let go of all your “if only’s”. To leave the “maybe” behind, to throw the “what if” away and to ignore the “this time I’m ok” attitude. You are really no good by yourself, you need a Savior, you need to spend your life to things of eternal worth. Fixing your eyes on the rainbow will not take you to the pot of gold, but setting your eyes pass the highest clouds, to the hands the hold the sun and the moon together, to the One that counts the stars, to the author and finisher of your faith, then your life would begin to have that iota of worth.

Eventually you still don’t deserve it.

But how come you enjoy a good life?

Love says it all. Not just any ordinary love, but that which has no greater love, that is willing to die so that others might live, that which triumphed over the cross. That kind of love.

Severely broken for the sake of all, wounded so you would never bleed. Crushed so you would be whole, insulted so you would hold a crown, died so you would live.

Dear friend, if you know something longer than forever, count again you will never miss it’s ending for sure.