 |
| Hey stranger, how dare u? Who u tink u are?! |
Our family adopted a new cat, or rather the cat adopted us. He turned up one day with his nose in our kitties' bowl, rummaging for left-overs of their meal. Very bold and brazen was he, as we faced off observing each other. My 2 kitties were nowhere around to protect me or the house from this orangey-colored feline. I told him to "shoo" off, he ignored me. I had to leave for work, so I let him be, figuring this would just be a one off encounter. The next day he was at it again, and the next. He had gotten bolder too. Now he was chewing up my carpet and sitting on my newspaper. He had no doubt noted our cats' feeding times and was now cautiously trying to eat from their bowls. Our 2 kitties strangely weren't adverse to the new upstart. My older fatso Uggy couldn't be bothered, I think she's just too lazy to bother, since all she does is eat and snooze the whole day (ya, she has a fantastic life!) But it surprised me our other cat Zaza, normally the aggressive and moody one (catch her on off days, and she literally bites the hand that feeds her, ie me!) simply ignored the intruder. She did 'merajuk' a bit by turning up her nose at the food the intruder-cat touched. But even when he usurped her fave spot on the sofa, she simply (and literally) looked the other way. He certainly has a way of rubbing us up. Despite all my shoos, threats and chasing, he keeps coming back. And despite being a male, he is so 'manja' he sidles up to everyone (even me- duh, talk about thick-skin!!) mewing to be petted. The kids have all but granted him permanent residence and petting rights in the house, tho I keep insisting we (or rather I) don't want another cat since our existing 2 are eating us out of our home already. Apparently neither the cat nor my kids hear me at all. They have named him 'Marmalade'. He's taken the liberty of exploring our rooms like he's the boss of the house and is now enjoying being fussed over as the new kid on the block. Not bad for an adopted cat.
The first time I came across the word "adopted" was in my birth certificate. I was about 7 or 8 at most, I
think. And my father showed me a big sheet of paper with the declaration "Adoption Certificate". That's when he told me actually he wasn't my father, and my 'real' family was in Alor Star. Apparently I had 5 other elder brothers and sisters there, and he was really my uncle, being my 'real' mom's brother, and he had 'adopted' me upon her passing. It didn't bother me much then; I was just a kid more interested in sucking ice-balls and playing 'policemen and thieves' with my neighbor's children. Much later I figured out I was adopted because I must have been an 'inconvenient extra' mouth to feed in an already large household. I recognized the reasonableness of my father deciding to give me away, so I never harbored any resentment towards him or any of my siblings, though I guess I was a wee bit disappointed at being 'rejected'. Anyway I experienced as a matter of fact that life as an 'adopted child' was pretty good; I was loved by, cared for and provided all that my adopted parents could give. It was bound to be a better life than if I had remained in my 'original' family, given that my father already had his hands full, having to handle 5 other kids. The story goes that I was a real terrible cry-baby as an infant (hrrmph, I thought that's obvious for all babies), and no one could calm me, until my aunt picked me up; and that's how this couple ended up adopting me and giving me the best they could offer.
I guess its this background of my life that made me instinctively understand what it means to be "adopted" as God's very own child when I became a Christian. To me it simply meant being given a new and infinitely better position than the original I had been born into. I didn't do anything good to get it. (In fact, quite the contrary, I did lots of things that weren't good at all). It was purely the act of another who chose to take me in, and taught me to call Him "Abba Father". I used to think God was that Big Guy 'upstairs', armed with a scroll of
rules meant to kill all the joy out of our fleshly pleasures . For a
time I thought God was quite unnecessary, since I could handle my life
myself. Besides if there really was a God, He wouldn't, He shouldn't let
the world be in such a mess... ahh, the presumptious ignorance of mere
mortals that blinds us to the wondrous love of God that would make us
His very own....how glad I am that He proved me wrong, in spite of and
despite myself.
I never knew my 'real' father; I don't even bear his surname. I loved my adopted father, but he had his faults. Which human being doesn't ?? But this Abba Father.... the One who adopted me and made me 'daughter of the Most High'....this Father God is so.... 'koool', to use a thoroughly modern phrase. It may not sound 'religiously appropriate' to describe God as 'kool'; in fact I guess some may deem it downright sacrilegious.
But I get such a kick out of waking up every day, to greet my Abba good morning, with the certainty of head and heart knowledge that there is
Someone whose love for me is higher than the heavens and deeper than any sea....
Knowing there is Someone I can be totally honest with, without any fear of condemnation or rejection, without any thought about what I feel or how I sound or look before Him is priceless. With humans, we are always on our guard. There are things we would never tell another human being, an unseen, unspoken boundary no one can cross, no matter how close the relationship. I knew my husband kept things from me, it was so obvious; with a face as black as thunder, he can still mumble "Nothing" whenever I ventured to ask "what's wrong?" Same thing with the kids... except they go one step further - sometimes they totally shut me out by pretending not to hear or they roll their eyes and twist their lips, which I presume is a polite way of saying, "leave me alone."
But I don't have to keep anything from my Abba; indeed I don't want to. I don't have to pretend I am super-mom, superwoman, or super-anything. I don't have to prove I am smart or famous or do fantastic things to catch His attention. I know I can spill out all the beans that poke my heart, and I know I got His ear anytime, every time. Human parents are all too susceptible to (intentionally or unintentionally) neglect or overlook one or the other kid in the family. But my Abba Father assures me; He will not let my foot slip, He watches over me, so much He neither slumbers nor sleeps (Psalm 121). Underneath me are His everlasting arms. Someone once asked me how can I be so sure God hears me, since if He's God, He has to take care of billions of other people on this planet and consider billions of more important things in the universe. Well, I dunno how He does it, but I am sure that's not a problem to Him, since He is God. Why bother about things which my severely limited brain can't quite figure out ? Just becoz I dunno the answers doesn't mean there's no God or that He's incapable of doing (seemingly) impossible things.
So I don't worry my head about how I appear to my Abba. He doesn't care a hoot that I scream my lungs out to Him, whether in anger or in frustration. He may not say anything, but He bottles up my tears when I am rendered simply speechless with grief over this, that or the other in my life. When I doubt if He's even there, gently His spirit reproves me... He has guaranteed His faithfulness in and by His Word, and sealed it by the very blood of Love. All the proof that I will ever need is already there.... when I remember Jesus hanging on the cross.
Human beings possess an innate desire for freedom. But the synonym we so often bandy around and shout from the roof tops - Independence - is, to me, such a misnomer. True freedom is quite the anti-thesis of independence, if by independence we mean living life according to our own desires and priorities - that's really self-ishness packaged in a "nice" form. I have found the greatest freedom in being dependent - on the God who is the only One good, all good, supreme good, so good that even when bad things happen (as they do in a fallen world), I can trust His goodness will prevail at the end of the day. Man's greatest difficulty is to acknowledge the biblical truth - that without an Almighty God, we are nothing and can do nothing (despite all our fantastic earthly achievements).
I am not ashamed to admit I am a weak creature; so I run to a God who is strong, and am thereby enabled to do all things through Him who loves me. ..Yep, there is no greater freedom than being myself - unmasked - before
Abba Father, the One who adopted me and calls me by name. And that's only for starters...
For just like the stranger-cat who waltzed into our house, who now not only gets 3 (or more) decent meals a day, but also gets to enjoy a lot of 'extras' by virtue of his adoption (bath, cuddles and snoozes - everything that makes a cat 'at home' and content), when God adopted me, He threw in a whole list of 'extras' into my basket - He made me an heir to inherit all the richness, glory and treasures of an abundant life on earth and in heaven... Man, that's enuf to lift up my spirit every time, especially when the going gets tough. What more could anyone ask for?! ....
"For He chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love
He predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ..." Ephesians 1:5-6
" For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children.
Now if we are children, then we are heirs--heirs of God and co-heirs
with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may
also share in his glory...." Romans 8: 15-17
2000 years ago, people looked at Someone hanging naked, dying on a cross and shook their heads at the sheer ugliness of it all. Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ drew a gruesome and gory picture of the reality of Jesus' crucifixion at the cross at Calvary; it put into graphical pictorial form what words could never do - what a tortured bleeding man looked like - it was anything but beautiful. How can there be beauty in such horror? Yet an old hymn called the cross 'wondrous'. In the eyes of ordinary mortals, what's so wondrous about 2 pieces of wood?? In those days criminals were routinely crucified on crosses anyway; nothing to shout about really. Why should Calvary's Cross be any different? - Because of Who hung on it....Not a guilty human being who deserved to be punished, but the Divine One who con-descended to take all of humanity's guilt. The prophet put it this way, " He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with
suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and
we esteemed him not" (Isa. 53:3).
