Desperate for Light

So much familiar with afternoons, it’s a sign that the evening is coming. It tells us that in a few moments the light of the sun will leave us with a mere reflection of its light on the moon.

Life has its afternoons, especially made for failure-prone creatures. For sinful-by-nature beings. For the self-loving, godless society. Afternoons are always here to remind us that days turn into nights; the strong would yield to a good night’s rest, the poet would write his last words and close the last page of his own resume.

How many of us have been through the same road for the nth time around? How many failures does it take to believe that it’s the last one? How much anger would it spell to realize the undeserved kindness of God aiming at our combatant heart? Is that your last stare? Is that your last glimpse? Does your tongue have enough to sting? How about your neighbor? Does he remind you that you are not alone? That sometimes it’s ok to be silent when they are talking? Who do you have to reason with? That person in the mirror? Isn’t it you? The same old you?

Oh yes, indeed time is inadequate for you to get your portion of the land of smiles and triumphs. The more you count time, the more you lose it. The more you gain access to friends, the more you become alone. Ironies of all ironies, it’s not about the numbers that would make you a better person or a lesser failure if we would go by our definition of man. It’s always the heart that dictates your direction, and a heart without God is aimlessly pursuing nothing.

How come there is still a road ahead for those who wane? It’s all grace that gave your feet the ground it stands, it’s all grace that provided words in your lips after your worthless promises. It’s all grace that shed light on your dark face. But where would you go after the long run when time catches up on you again?

When was the last time you prayed? No I mean the last time your heart talked to God? Prayers can be part of a daily routine, but not all prayers have heart. I can’t stop meddling with man’s futile attempt to live in peace yet end up the opposite. Who failed where and when?

I am not sure. One thing I am sure about is we are not called to fail. Though we are doomed to fail because we are not anywhere near God’s standard, Christ loved us best when we were a failure. He died for all of us even when we are yet sinners. And His grace abounds. Suddenly we become undeserving pricks that even if we fail a thousand times, God has a thousand and one ways of His kindness leading us to repentance.

Wake up sleeping soul, the Lord is mighty to save. There are great battles to be won for His kingdom, and those battles that you can not win for yourself, He already won it all. Don’t even try to outsource your own will to alter His love. It’s there forever regardless if you are or if you are not.

Now evening falls, you become desperate for light. Just try to get some sleep. That’s all you can do when the sun sets in.

About your failures! Never mind if you think you are unable to take another step after all these, for either He will strengthen you to make you able, or He will call a sudden halt, and you will not have to take it all.1

Sleep. Just sleep.

Notes:
1. Frances Ridley Havergal, Streams in the Desert, pp16, Copyright 1925 by the Zondervan Corp.

In Pursuit of Happiness

Singapore. 9:52pm


Here are my thoughts again after a long hiatus inside a cave of asp.net codes, world history and book-reading. Suddenly, I found myself recuperating in unimaginable ways. Was it the mind sweeping activities I chose to get busy with? Or was it the encouragement of what’s left of the masses that I gained notoriety as a streaming scoundrel?

One word to fill the blank. Grace.

Yes, of all the attributes that covered my whole being, those that covered me with a placenta of self-proclaimed influence. I almost got to my last breath ignorant of the real fuel that kept my body pumping life for 30 years. I almost threw my dreams to the ravine of an identity crisis. Unabashed and indignant of anyone who comes my way by telling me to sit down and have a good cup of coffee with a cup of good people.

In daytime, I enjoyed life while at nighttime I hid from life. And as the earth freeze for a time being, as the night overcomes the day, I crawled the floor of humiliation grasping for thin air. With a blind sight and a frail body I shook my head in disbelief.

Suddenly out of the corners of the dark alley that I am trapped into, a spark of hope fleets in to light my path. And as I took a small step forward, one mighty arm saved me and broadens the path beneath me. In a minus eighty eight degree centigrade temperature, grace was sufficient for me to feel embraced again with love and forgiveness. As I leave the dust of my wrong decisions leading to mountains of consequences, I found confidence and strength in the sovereignty of a universal master plan so vast for human perception yet so simple before the greatest Artist in the history of everything.

He paints the canvass with different colors and different strokes of His brush. He might have given emphasis to the beauty of the clouds, but He never missed the details of the rough rocks that serve as static walls that the waves embrace. Giving a beautiful refreshing sound of hope as heat subsides when the water meets the shore.


God meets us where we are and not where someone is.
Joseph M. Stowell, Radical Reliance: Living 24/7 with God, 2006