The Tears of God

The older I get, the more easily I cry. I wonder, am I getting more maudlin, emotional or sentimental with age or what ? Is it hormones, menopause… or maybe, just maybe, could it be I am being 'tenderized' by God's own hand upon my heart?

It's one thing when the tears come in the privacy of my own room, as when I am banging on heaven's door in prayer or lost in worship, but it's quite another when the flood threatens to overflow in front of about 100 pairs of eyes riveted on me...curious eyes, bored eyes, shifty eyes, still very public eyes nevertheless. I swallowed hard to try to keep my voice from breaking as I confessed my regret in hurting an old uncle who had been a 'regular' at the street-feeding alley ever since I could remember. I had expressed disappointment  over something he did that I didn't like. My words had cut another human heart, words I could never stuff back into my mouth. Words that no matter how many sorry's I say could never take away the sting of pain. The worse part was I never got to say sorry to uncle J. He just disappeared.

Then I realized the tears that were welling up weren't just for this 1 person. They were for each and everyone of the people seated before me, faces familiar and unfamiliar, all with their own stories. What I felt wasn't mere ‘feeling’- after all I have been serving these 'dregs of society' for so many umpteen years of Saturdays, heard so many umpteen sob-stories, seen some of what must qualify as the hardest, baddest, most disgraceful, most shameless people on this side of earth.  Logically speaking my heart should have been hardened as a rock already...seen this, done that, been there...

Yet what gripped me as I extended God's invitation, to "Come! Let the one who is thirsty come; and let the one who wishes take the free gift of the water of life" (Revelation 22:17),  wasn't personal gushy sentiment but the very emotion of God Himself,  who regrets how many would not hear, or having heard, would still choose not to believe. God regrets because when mankind chooses of his own free will to reject His offer, they are the ultimate losers, not Him. And the loss is horribly irremediably eternal if we insist on going our own way, because He knows it leads all the way to hell. I have oft prayed to know the heart-beat of God; that afternoon  I understood what Jesus meant as He looked over a crowd of 5000 men and many more women and children who had gathered on a hill-top, all hungry, tired, sick and without hope, as He “saw much people, and was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd (Mark 6:34)  The root word ‘compassion’ apparently goes beyond mere pity; it literally means the bowels are moved, as bowels were thought to be the seat of pity – and most significantly love. 

After I ended the message, I moved off to catch a breath of wind and compose myself . That was when I saw him grappling with a chicken wing, the plate balanced precariously on one lap, his stroke-impaired useless arm resting on the other. I was in half  a mind to go over and help to at least peel the chicken for him, but he was already tearing into it with his mouth and his 1 good hand. So I watched him from the sidelines. I had prayed for R a couple of times. As he finished up the lunch, I trotted over and sat down to chat. He murmured about how tough it was to keep believing God when nothing in his life seemed to work, like his useless hand and leg. And there it was again – that stirring in my heart -  only this time there was no holding back the tears...I started to cry. Man, I should be so embarrassed.

But strangely I wasn't; because I just knew the tears that flowed out of my eyes were not from me. As I listened to R tell his story of a life that seems to have given up on him, I knew it wasn't my heart but Jesus' heart that was breaking . And I remembered the shortest most compact most exquisitely meaningful line in the Bible 'Jesus wept', when He acknowledged the death of His friend Lazarus (John 11:35). I think R was somewhat shocked to see the tears. So I told him the simple truth, that God was crying for him, because He understood. Now it was R's eyes which suddenly filled up with tears. And so we cried together as I prayed once again for the grace, healing and strength of God upon my brother, to be set free from the sin that he himself admitted was still jamming up his life.

But what kind of God would cry? Isn't God supposed to be all-powerful, all mighty blah blah blah? What good is a god who cries and is seemingly powerless to help, prevent or solve all of mankind’s  problems? Why believe or pray when heaven is silent, when there are no sensible, logical or even any answers to life's tough questions? ...Because here is a God who is not ashamed to show His love in the most empathetic form of human expression - tears. When no words can comfort an aching heart, when grief overcomes even the stoutest, when life is reduced to the emptiness of the same old, same old thing day in day out, year in year out....God weeps for what could have been…. if only we would let Him be all He wants to be to us….if only we would turn around to face Him and do things His way… If only…..

The saying goes 'Laugh and the world laughs with you, weep and you weep alone. That may be true of man, but that is not true of my God. Here is a picture of how deeply God loves us – He weeps for every man and woman,  because we have so so 'lost it' all.  He weeps that we who are created so beautifully and wonderfully in His own image, destined for a purpose so high we could never imagine or even ask for ourselves, would actually prefer to settle for something so much less than what He had originally designed humans and life to be. As C.S. Lewis put it, "We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

A God who weeps not because He is weak or powerless to act, but because we choose not to believe He can. But (thank God for the “but’s”) even then, despite and in spite of us, He is merciful….So it is as after I wave R off, I sit down near the doctor’s station as he is attending to the last few patients, a young man plops down beside me. 1 hand was missing a finger, there were horrible scars on his legs and arms, evidence of a bad injury. And he starts, “Aunty, just now you talk about regrets in life…” Inside I am still numb, and I am thinking, “Lord, not another sob-story to make me cry…again?”  I listen to M telling how he blew $120k of an insurance pay-out claim for his accident on relatives, friends, who and what-nots, ending up broke, betrayed, divorced, bitter, hurt and homeless. It may not be exactly the same story, but anyone who is still breathing has or will have something similar to tell sooner or later. A story to cry over.

But (like I said, thank God for the “but’s”) that afternoon a broken heart found the antidote for his pain, not in a human doctor’s pills but in the hands of a compassionate, loving merciful Savior. When we finished praying, the light in his eyes and the joy in his voice were evident. A precious moment to cry over.

Sure, anyone can scoff and write it off as emotional manipulation, self or other-induced psychological response to situational crises. But (there’s that word again) for those who ‘know’, we know it is real. Nothing in human terms can adequately explain what is essentially at heart a spiritual experience. Not a temporary ‘feel good’ fix-it band-aid religious crutch. Some never quite ‘catch’ it; they get disappointed after awhile because the initial ‘euphoria’ of God wears off and they are back to square one, wondering, “Is that all?” or worse they end up cursing God because He doesn’t quite live up to their expectations. Actually He isn't obliged to. 

There are lots of things in life and about God I don’t understand, but that shouldn't be a hindrance to believing Him.  It doesn’t say much of me if I can only believe God …..provided, subject to, until and unless…. Legally we call these kind of terms conditions.  My God didn’t set any conditions for me. He just loves me….He weeps for me; He died for me,  when I didn’t even know Him at all.  Best of all, He resurrected; so that I may know through the tears, there is always hope; that out of death arises (a different)  life.

If only we would believe, I venture God would be weeping for a different reason. Not out of regret for us, but out of joy because finally we ‘get’ it – that He is really real, as real as the tears we cry.

 " Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you." - Isaiah 54:10 

The Fear of Fear

I have been asked why I still bother to subscribe to a certain newspaper in hard copy when there are so many alternative sources of news online, and free some more. I have a confession to make – I like its comics page. That’s the only ‘news’ I look forward to, especially these days, when it seems to me it’s ‘that’ season again.

I call it the fear season. When I was a kid, I remember my mum would insist on me staying indoors during the 7th month. Every Chinese knows that’s the inauspicious month where if you aren’t careful, you will bump into those creepy creatures called ghosts, ghouls, bad spirits, whatever. No one in their right mind would want to meet them. I have not bothered about staying indoors during that month ever since I grew up and became a Christian. It’s not that I don’t believe in the devil anymore; it’s just that I am no longer fearful of things that I do not fully understand.

For the typical Chinese, it’s only that particular month they ‘fear’. All other months are ok. But the way things are bumping around in Malaysia, it seems not only the Chinese 7^th month but every other day there is something new to be fearful about.

If I read the news correctly, we are all supposed to be afraid of the Sedition Act being abolished or retained, depending on what kind of politics we subscribe to. And obviously all right-thinking folks are supposed to fear a repeat of the violence of May 13^th 1969. Sorry, that doesn’t quite work with me, since I was just a 9 year old kid who didn’t understand anything back then. Now if we throw good old-fashioned religion into the melting-pot, we really have a lot to fear – extremism, liberalism, pluralism, racism, sexism. That’s just for starters, lots more ‘ism-s’ can be added as and when expedient to remind people what to fear.

Of course it goes without saying Christians are supposed to fear using a certain word for God, even if that’s the word some of us have been using since we knew how to talk. Incidentally there is a whole list of other ‘sensitive’ words that Christians should be afraid to use. The complicated part for me is figuring out in which state I can or cannot use what word. For now, it seems I don’t need to fear if I am in Sabah or Sarawak. But I better watch my mouth if I am in Selangor.

But as if to balance the scale up, others are supposed to fear Christians too. They are supposed to fear the building of more churches, because the churches are going to suck everybody inside and brainwash them into…zombies?  Man, this ‘fear’ thing has gone so far even touching a certain animal is a cause to be scared. It’s not the building or the animal per se that’s to be feared; it’s the fear that these things will cause one to ‘lose faith’ in one’s religion. Now that’s the ‘big mother’ of all fears, besides the Zionist Jews, imperialist Americans, ebola and kidnappers in Sabah.

 Don’t even get started with the fear of others (meaning everybody else who doesn’t join our party, or whose skin is not the same color as ours) grabbing our….(special) rights, land, jobs, power, position, contracts, language, schools…(yawn)..sounds like an old scratchy record being replayed over and over again. Oh I forgot, records went out of fashion long long ago.

Unfortunately the fear factor is always in fashion. So much noise being made about this or that to fear.  If we would pause awhile in the midst of all our shouting at each other, perhaps we can discern the real thing to fear is not this or that person, thing or issue.The real bogey-man is the fear of fear itself.

I don’t want to feed my mind with fear.  It’s a terrible way to live. As a kid, I stayed imprisoned in the house because I feared all sorts of ghosts waiting to catch me. That’s what fear does – it locks us up as prisoners of ourselves and of others.

There is only 1 thing that defeats fear. To quote the Bible, “There is no fear in love…perfect love drives out fear” (1 John 4:18). So really the problem is not fear, but lack of love….

Now that’s a tough call. It’s so much easier to fear than to love. But I guess I could do something simple for a start…. I think I’ll stop reading the news for awhile, or just stick to the comics page. Then I don’t have to bother about what else there is to fear. Or I could just learn to love better. 

Published MMO 30/11/14

The Journey of Love

My no. 2 princess warned it was a long show, but she said I would like it. She was right. From the word 'go', Interstellar had me. Perhaps because it's corny to the core with its "human-ness". It's bound to tug at every parent's heart. Who can watch a child's anger at a father walking out of her life without feeling the prick of tears behind the eyes? Who can not relate to the awful sense of hopelessness talking at an empty screen to someone 'out there' and getting no answer, year after year for umpteen years... who wouldn't just give up and move on?


Yes, it was a sci-fi adventure, with all the mandatory action scenes and incomprehensible gobblegeek language of time relativity, quantum physics, worm holes, black holes, gravity etc. Frankly I have seen more and better seat-gripping action in other movies. As for the premise, a dying earth buried in dust-storms, visions of apocalypse, time warps, the search for brand new frontiers - all are true and tried formulae which movieland has been tossing around for ages. So really as a sci-fi 'epic', I rate Interstellar just so-so. Heck, it didn't even have a super-macho handsome super-hero for me to gawk at.

But it was the interplay of  human and family relationships in the midst of all that which sustained my interest and carried the show for me. A father stuck in space who tries so hard to re-connect with a daughter whom he left behind on earth aeons ago, attempting to reach out across an eternity of time . A daughter growing up with unresolved abandonment issues. A son who loses faith when he no longer gets any response. And that heart-rending line of all lines  "Love is the one thing that transcends time and space."

As I watched Cooper, the dad, desperately clawing around in the one-way mirror of the time-warp - seeing his child right in her own room - so near and yet so far - trying to attract her attention for she cannot perceive him, it immediately brought to my mind a picture of God, the heavenly Father, attempting to communicate with us, His creation on earth. We are so near, yet so far from Him who loves us so much.

Daddy didn't whip out the latest I-phone from his space-suit to wats-app his kid across galaxy band-width. Instead he used old-fashioned Morse code which his smart-aleck daughter immediately recognized as a communication from her MIA dad. How did she know it wasn't a  ghost or her imagination run wild? She didn't need any 'proof', nor did she need to 'test' the validity or existence of her invisible dad in a science lab. She didn't even need to ask any questions. She 'just knew' it was Daddy, though she couldn't glimpse even a shadow of him. The only clue was books dropping down from their shelves in Morse-code order. Quite a miracle - books don't simply walk off shelves in a deliberate pattern. Nor do sand particles stand up like a wall. Yet Murph was so certain it had to be her Daddy.

If only we could approach God that way too. If only we realize God is always reaching out to us. He's given us an intelligent, perfectly-ordered and wonderfully beautiful world to not just admire or reduce to atoms and molecules but to appreciate His hand behind it all. It's funny how we can enthuse about the beauty of Mona Lisa although we have never seen her creator Leonardo Da Vinci. We are quite prepared to accept him as a real human in history although we may not have lived in his time or his space. Because...well, duh, because there are records.

Yet humans can be so superficial; just because no one has ever 'recorded' God on a petrie-dish under a microscope, we conclude so blithely He doesn't or can't exist. But there is a record - in fact there are 66 books  on record on the subject, complete with eye-witness testimony and historical confirmation of a certain Man who claimed to be God who walked on earth 2000 years ago. Just read the Bible. Ahh, we are so quick to say, that's different. Definitely God is different. For one, He doesn't bend to our rules; He makes the rules.

In the movie, the father used something familiar to his daughter - Morse code-  to let her know it was him, speaking to her all the way from outer space. God used an even more effective way  - He con-descended down from His place in high heaven to become one like us, so we could relate to Him as Jesus Christ. "For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form" (Colossians 2:9) as "the express representation of His being" (Hebrews 1:3), "image of the invisible God" (Colossians 1:15).

Jesus walking the earth, doing all sorts of miracles. Jesus dead on the cross. Jesus resurrected alive, seen by various witnesses. Jesus ascending into the clouds. What a crazy story. "Smart-alecks" would reduce, rationalize and explain away every incident; refusing to even consider how a very dead man can walk out of a tomb alive after 3 days, when worms should have been gorging on his entrails. Because... well, it's impossible; legally, logically, scientifically, humanly, 'earthily' impossible.  Yet we readily accept there are in fact time and space dimensions which mankind isn't even close to understanding or exploring. Like the brother with no faith, we give up on God because He doesn't 'answer' according to how we expect Him to answer, writing Him off as "impossible" to believe in.

I especially loved how a very old Murph says to her very young long-lost-in-space father, when they finally get reunited on earth , " Nobody believed me, but I knew you'd come back". When Daddy asks, "How?", Murph simply answers "Because my dad promised me". A promise her heart hung onto even when logically in her smart head, there was really nothing to hang onto. In that she proved stronger than her brother who started out well, dutifully recording messages hoping the father would somehow hear and respond, but finally quitting after years of silence. What made her continue to believe?  I think it's something to do with this thing called 'love' that makes one 'just know'.... Murph had no reason to  hope that her father would come back; she herself was already dying in earth-time. But she still believed, because she knew the one who loved her and whom she loved. 

That's how Christians are. We cling onto the promises of a God who walked out from the hallowed halls of heaven on a journey across space and time to save us, His beloved . It culminated on a cross upon a hill where Jesus paid with His own life to redeem ours from the clutches of another dimension called hell. But it doesn't stop there, for us who believe, the journey hasn't really ended, because He promised to come back for us.... one day.

That's the day this world, as we know it, will end as all of humankind face our ultimate Judge. I like how the father put it, "Mankind was born on Earth. It was never meant to die here....our greatest accomplishments cannot be behind us, because our destiny lies above us". That's literally true for those who believe, for we know where we are going. Sustained by the power of a promise made and simple trust in a God who is alive forever more, we get to embark on a journey back to the Lover and Beloved of our souls. That is the blessing of belief.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God ; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am" - John 14:1-3

A Christian Mum's Response to an Atheist Daughter

My eldest princess announced to the whole wide world that she had dumped God; she termed it as ‘coming out of the closet’, likening it to the homosexual who boldly declares to everyone (God included) that he is free to do what he wants with his life. So there. Well, it’s not that it was a recent thing anyway. It’s pretty old news as far as I am concerned. Still to go ‘public’ - I guess she must feel good about it. Do I? Honestly? Of course not. Which Christian parent would feel good about his/her precious child ‘leaving the faith’? But it’s nothing earth-shattering. Children keep breaking their parents’ hearts all the time – that’s the price of love. I dare say every parent, Christian or non-Christian, has shed – and will no doubt continue to shed - buckets of (mostly unseen) tears over their children’s decisions in life. But I think it’s harder for a Christian parent to take, because we know it’s our children who lose out when they give up on Some One as fundamental and essential as God.

Still I am somewhat amused by all the responses to her article. I suspect people, especially Christians, don’t know how to react to me. I gather everyone in the church which she used to attend with me must be having a gala time circulating her article. Ok, maybe I exaggerate. But it was funny how they looked at or talked to me during the initial days of its publication. I think they expect me to be…embarrassed? Ashamed? Perhaps they were thinking, “Kesian….poor thing, some more she’s a widow…. Hai, children these days…” They get uncomfortable, I can just see it in their eyes, unsure whether/how to bring up the subject with me. Some commiserate. A couple wats-apped me the ‘offending’ article and asked somewhat incongruously “Hey, just saw this… did you know?” Duh, as if I didn’t know. Others simply said, “We will pray for you and for her.” Well, I say thank you to these. I don’t know about my daughter, but I readily admit I need all the prayers I can get.

I have not responded to her article until now, we have not talked about it at all. We did our talking, screaming and shouting years ago when she decided she wanted to live life the way she wanted, instead of the way God wanted. It was a drama, which I am sure neither of us want repeated. Of course we have also kissed and made up after the ‘volcano’ exploded; that’s what love is all about. Disagreement doesn’t mean we can’t love one another. Besides if my God loves her enough to respect her choices, so must I. Like she said if she wants to go to hell, that’s her choice. So be it. Though I am sure it breaks God’s heart that any human being would want to purposely go their own way, because He knows inevitably that leads all the way to a soul’s destruction, when He has shown so clearly another better way.

Someone once pointed out, God doesn’t send people to hell, neither need the devil drag us there; we choose to go there ourselves. Jesus Christ has never and will never force, manipulate or sweet-talk anyone to follow Him. If we are to come to God, we must come willingly, out of love, nothing else. He will have it no other way. And if we do come, it must be on His terms, we must let God be God after all. We ignore, reject, deny or refuse Him at our own peril. We pay the consequences of all and every choice we make in life.

Could it be that that’s the underlying problem with all our endless discussions about God? That in our heart of hearts, we actually fear the consequences of believing. After all if there really is a God, it would require us to examine and change ourselves to see if we conform to His holy standards. Whereas if we can just ‘dismiss’ God away, we don’t need to answer to anyone except ourselves for the way we choose to live.
At the end of the day, all these arguments about God are just that – arguments. No one, nothing can prove or disprove the existence of God. Not archaeology, philosophy, psychology, technology or whatever-logy can put a ‘finger’ on God. Not the most brilliant mind, smartest scientist or deepest thinker, certainly not I. If He is, He is. His existence doesn’t depend on man’s belief or unbelief. He doesn't need me or anyone to defend who He is or what He does or doesn't do. Nothing changes His love for us, whom He considers the masterpiece of His creation.

No, I am not embarrassed about my daughter’s declaration of atheism. In fact I am very glad she wrote so publicly about it. When I read the responses to it, I cried. I cried because here in concrete form was God’s answer to a mother’s unceasing prayer that He would send someone, anyone to tell her what I no longer know how to tell her anymore. He sent not one, so many…I am just amazed that people would take the time and care to explain, exhort, elaborate and elucidate the truth of the Scriptures that answer all the very valid issues she raised in her article. Without fail, every Christian response affirmed and comforted me as the very real manifestation of God’s love expressed by a community of faith that is the distinction of all true Christians. It just goes to prove that my God is not a mere ‘religious crutch’ or a collection of rules and regulations but a living, thriving  God who will use every means to connect us back to Him;  no matter that we turn away, He doesn’t. His heart is always open, even when ours are closed.

It really doesn’t matter to me if my daughter reads, dissects, accepts or rejects the responses that answered her questions. The fact remains, not only her, but many other people got to read too, because it was in public domain. That’s how great my God is; He doesn’t just answer 1 person - He answers every person who dares to ask. The only catch is we may not like His answers. I am so humbled and yet so proud to have such a personal Almighty God to acknowledge, love, honor and worship.

If we are honest with ourselves, it really boils down not to a matter of proof, but a matter of will or will not believe. The Christian faith has been assumed and criticized as a blind leap into the dark. I am no expert theologian, but that's not my experience at all. I don't claim to understand God, in fact I confess many times I actually don't understand Him . But just because we don't get answers that satisfy us cannot mean something is untrue, invalid or non-existent. That's way too simplistic and really a rather convenient excuse of getting rid of that disturbing 'issue' called God. It puts the 'blame' and responsibility on God, instead of on us.

Still it's nothing new. Human beings have always put God on trial. They did that to Jesus 2000 years ago, matter of fact we are still doing it today. Actually they killed Him. We are still trying to 'kill' Him too. But the great news is my God just won't stay dead. He is a resurrected alive God, and He will have the last word, when He puts us all on trial.
God dealt graciously with me 12 years ago, out of His great love and mercy He saved not just a grieving wife but a husband about to die. Now every day of my life I can only mouth inadequate thanks and gratitude that all is well with my soul, for I have tasted and know that the Lord is good even when circumstances are bad. There comes a time when true faith doesn’t remain at the level of ‘need’. True faith must go beyond to grasp that God isn’t our personal genie to satisfy our every whim and fancy. True faith that stands firm demands that we ‘know’ that we know whom we have believed.

I can't 'show' God to any atheist, as much as I want to for my own daughter, whom I love dearly. But one thing I can do - I choose to believe God loves her more than I ever can, so He will never leave nor forsake her, even if she thumbs her fingers at Him. He is ever the Good Shepherd who hounds after even 1 lost sheep to bring it home to Himself. That's His very own guarantee and I know I can hold my God to His eternal unchangeable promises. After all, He did say He is Father to the fatherless and a defender of widows. That means my children and I are definitely on His 'to do' list. I couldn't ask for more.

Published MMO 24/11/14

The Anchor of the Soul

It happened months ago during the holiday season, but I still remember David. We had to make a trip up north to attend the wake of an aunt from my husband's side. Penang lived up to its notorious reputation of horrific holiday traffic. It had been bad enough with intermittent jams on the NS highway, but at least we were moving along. But sitting in a car for 1 hour on a journey that should have taken 15 minutes normally was really the pits. Still what was a trip to Penang without visiting our usual haunt at Miami Beach. So I stuck it out, bidding myself to not tear my hair or swear at drivers trying to cut into my (already stuck) lane. By the time we got there, we had only 1 hour to loll about. Actually I go to the beach to see a very old friend, David, whom I call the sea-man. He was my husband's childhood beach kaki, since he lived near the beach he would visit David in his (then) little hut and go out to sea to fish together. They were die-hard buddies; somehow they 'clicked' despite being worlds apart. My husband the educated, middle-class Chinese town boy and David, the scrawny, illiterate Indian beach boy, so dark that his teeth flashed white against his tanned face. He would have made for a good toothpaste advert.

Whenever we visited Penang, David would immediately arrange to take the family out to the islands in the boat my husband had bought and let him keep/maintain a long time ago. My husband had named the boat after me. But after his passing, David or more likely his brother-in-law had changed it to one of their kids' names. Not that I minded; what would I do with a boat anyway. After the cremation, I made a trip back to the old beach-spot. David  was the one who took me out to sea to drop my husband's ashes and hopefully he will be the one to guide my kids to do the same when my turn comes.

But looking at him now, I wondered if he or I would last longer on earth. His long-standing battle with the bottle was obvious; he had become all sticks and bones, his yellowed eyes were a dead give-away of his sick condition. His wife had left him years ago and taken the kids along. His sister who runs the beach cafe and takes care of him as much she can shakes her head and complains about his drunken escapades. Still he pretends everything is alright and is all eager to take the kids out to sea; only this time, the boat is gone. I asked him what happened; he muttered something incomprehensible, and offered to go get a friend's boat as alternative.  The kids were hopeful, but I smiled, shook my head and firmly told him no need. I knew he wouldn't be able to pull it off, and we really had no time anyway.

As I sat with him, there were no words necessary between us. He knew I was sad for him, he knew and surely regretted his condition. Still he grinned and repeated his standard line - 'I go sea' , pointing  out to the waters beyond. I knew what he meant, he and the sea was 1; the sea has been his life all along, and I am sure if he could, he would die at sea too. Indeed all he had left was the sea. As we parted, I pondered what do I have, what will I have left at the end of it all?

I could point to a lot of my achievements and successes, I guess. Publishing a devotional in Bahasa M'sia must be one of the high-lights. So would my work in the street ministry, which has taught me so much about endurance and love beyond personal comfort, opening up a world so totally removed from mine. Or my job running the church kindy, experiencing the joy of being surrounded by little ones and knowing that what we teachers plow into these young lives will outlive us. I wish I could say I have no regrets. But I do. I regret things I did and didn't do. I regret words I said and didn't say. Those commissions and omissions showed up a lack of love in me. It's easy enough to confess and  repent of my sins before God, and I am sure He forgives me. I can say sorry to the people I have hurt  but I suspect it would be too little too late. 

So really, of myself I have nothing to boast. What is there for any human to boast about?  No matter how what how great the exploits of man, “All people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall" (1 Peter 1:24) The Bible points out the truth, "Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes" (James 4:14) So what profound insight could I possibly leave behind if I knew tonite would be my last nite on earth? 

On the one hand I would be more than happy to go. Indeed when life goes all hay-wire, as it's apt to, I often ask God to please take me 'home'. I do get sick and tired of this earth-life; I wouldn't have any problems bidding a very happy "Goodbye, World", when I draw my last breath, because I know where I am headed. I already have a mansion waiting for me in heaven, not because I am so great, but thanks to Jesus, who promised it when I first believed. But that's a very selfish desire, it's simply escapism from the ever-present problems of life on earth. Then there's always on the other hand, the realization that God didn't save me for my sake, but for His, so that I could be transformed to impact my world for the time He gives me on earth before I get to enjoy eternity with Him. 

I don't want to end up like David, the seaman, regretting the past, with nothing to hope for except live for today.  Because as much as today can satisfy, it can never be enough.  It is not enough to just live a good life on earth and then die. Jesus Christ came to show us there is indeed more than just a bad yesterday or a good today. He proved there is a fantastic tomorrow when He resurrected from death. To settle for less because my mind can't reasonably see or comprehend such a grand hope  in the here and now simply means I am really a coward at heart for not daring or wanting to believe the impossible. 

Sure, it's safer and easier not to believe, to live and let live. But I don't want to live limited by and answerable only to myself; that's at best an illusionary freedom. Author Warren Wiersbe pointed out, "Some may say freedom means the privilege of doing what you want to do. But that is not freedom. In fact, that's the worst kind of slavery in the world - to be controlled only by your impulses and inclinations. Real freedom is a life controlled by God's truth and motivated by His love." We kid ourselves when we enslave ourselves to ourselves, and we don't or refuse to recognize the flaw in our own thinking.

David's life is anchored ultimately to the sea; he's got nothing else to look forward to. People hang onto all sorts of anchors of their own making. Me, I want my life anchored to a God who not only frees me from sin/s and prepares me to live to the utmost for today, but guarantees me a forever life, embraced by the power and passion of a love divine, a joy unspeakable. Now that's an anchor worth clinging onto in the midst of life's storms.

Even if I don't 'see' God and have absolutely no proof in the physical or 'this-world' sense, I have nothing to lose and all to gain. After all, if there is a God, I certainly want Him to be bigger, better, greater, grander and more powerful  than I. What's the point of a god who is created in my image according to my own pet ideas, who answers to me?  To be the most High Almighty God , He must delve and deal in the impossible, and I must answer to Him, not out of some compulsion called religion but out of a relationship called love, because He first loved me.

"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure" - Hebrews 6:19 

Published MMO 21/11/14