Hi God, today I come before You with a simple heart of thanksgiving; I will make no attempt to craft my sentences with sophistication or bombastic vocabulary (since no words can express fully how I feel towards You anyway). Lord, I am humbled, from the day I knew that I was chosen by You to impart what little I know to the younger in faith, to this very day that You used me to convey Your truths. Never would I have imagined myself standing before these faces, speaking boldly about You with no fear and sharing about my experiences with such vulnerability and strength. I know today, that it is by Grace that I stand; not as someone who knows more, but merely as someone who has tasted and seen Your goodness so much so that she cannot help but to step forward as a witness. Yes, today I did not teach…I simply testified.

Lord, I know not how I did, but I know one thing: that as Your Spirit led me to speak forth words that I did not even know I had, the very same Spirit worked, and is still working, in the hearts of these young men and women. God, where I preached about trust, I now declare trust in You; where I taught about surrender, I now surrender wholly to You. I pray, oh God, that even at this very moment, may Your holy Presence flood the hearts of these brothers and sisters. They may be young, and they may not know much, but Lord, I pray that You create in them a divine hunger, an unquenchable thirst for You - one that nothing else can satisfy…only You. I pray that soon and very soon, they will discover that this void can only be filled as they embark on a relentless quest in knowing You more, and that as they take their next few baby steps, Your love for them will compel them to take just a few more. I know that You are watching over them even in their slumber, and I ask of You, Lord, to watch over them as well as the devil prowls in their sins and temptations. God, remind them of Jesus, a man tempted and trialed, a man who nonetheless, chose to be holy and set apart for You. Whisper to them, oh God, that they too, can choose to be free from these entanglements, and that when they do, they shall enjoy an unashamed relationship with You, their Creator. Lord, thank You for blessing us with these young ones - as much as I want to pray for them, I want to pray for myself as well, and for the church, to be the new wineskin to contain them, to be the very stewards whom You will be proud of. Promise You ok, God!

Lastly, God, I thank You that this experience that You have gifted me…is like a mirror. That with every word I said, I am graced to dig deeper within. That every innocent face in Connect 601 somehow seemed to confront my credibility, that the Holy Spirit came, and weaved Its way in and out of my words, subtly pricking at my conscience. Lord, I am grateful that You always seek to remind, to cause me to reflect. As I looked upon these young ones praying in the prayer room today, Lord, I saw once again child-likeness in faith, and earnestness in prayer. They may have stumbled over their words, or uttered something that made no sense at all, but God, I know You hear and understand every request that they submit unto You even before the words take form in their mouths. Lord, this is what You desire: a simplicity and authenticity in our prayers. No attempt at impressing those around us, not even You; but just a genuine cry in that simple one liner prayer. Who would have known that eventually, I would be the one learning such precious lessons instead? Only You can do such a work in me. God, again, I am humbled. 

So God, remind me. Even if You have to do so time and time again, remind me. In prayer, I am simply conversing with You, my Best Friend :) 
 

So I embarked on reading this book that I got a couple of months ago early last week and if I would take to being brutally honest with myself, I guess I did not start on this new read with that much of an expectation because no less than 12 short chapters in, I am absolutely wrecked (in a good way) by how He is speaking to me through it.   

I wonder if you have ever experienced that ache in you as your heart sank; you try your very best to plaster on a smile, but you know very well that just a few moments ago, your shoulders had slumped in resignation and your face had fallen. I believe that we all have had our fair share of disappointments in people, or even in God, but funnily enough, never have I once given thorough thought to how much I have disappointed Him. Well, aside from the daily confessions of sin, and reflections of how I have lived my life, I came to a realization that I rarely consider how he actually feels. 

When I pore over the pages in the Old Testament, I had often found in me a mixture of emotions - I was confused, because I could not comprehend how Israel could grumble and complain at God almost all the time despite how God provided for them; I was appalled, for I could not fathom how Israel could persist in rebellion and turn away from God even after the many chances He mercifully gave unto them. I scorned at how Solomon, the author of all the wisdom in Proverbs, could have so foolishly caved in to His own selfish desires and lost sight of a vision so great when God had blessed him so abundantly. And I had laughed wryly at how the prophets seemed to challenge the existence of God at times, even though they heard from Him so tangibly. 

However, I know this is true as well: that in my life, at some point or another, I had been an ungrateful and unrepentant Israelite, a self-gratifying Solomon, and a disbelieving prophet. For would I, in the face of decades of silence from God (like the Israelites), remain steadfast in my devotion towards Him? Or would I have cried out, drained of my faith, questioning whether He is really with me? I cannot answer that with certainty.  

But turning away from how I feel, I can just, for a second, imagine how He feels: that upon knowledge of my unfaithfulness, the Father cringes ever so slightly. His heart had probably sank as well, for the umpteenth time, and He cannot summon up enough delight in His love for me to allow my blunders to be overlooked. Yet, in His anger, He mends His broken belief in me once again, and reaches out a hand so warm. He offers an embrace, so welcoming, with open arms. I push him away with contempt, wanting a life that is my own to live. He looks on as I went further and further, away from home, and there is anguish in His eyes. Overcome with melancholy, He wistfully awaits the day of my return.

Today, my heart stirred at the revelation of how forlorn He is for me. I do not want to cast such a light on Him, but saying anything less would be a discount on who He really is. But more than a stirring, I feel my heart being ripped out of my chest because for once, I had felt how He felt. We complain of how He seem to not have heard our prayers, yet He had dealt with the disappointments of monstrous betrayals time and time again. We cry out for Him to deliver us from our misery immediately, but when He beckons us to draw near to Him, we often run in the other direction. The differing magnitudes of disappointment, we really cannot comprehend, and should never attempt to juxtapose; for that will only cast a spotlight on our guilt and shame (which…on second thoughts, may not necessarily be a bad thing).

I thank Him today, that I am able to boldly, yet humbly, slide my foot into His shoe - even though I most certainly do not have the capacity to assume I know - I reckon I must still attempt to do so. For I do not want to have understanding likened to an outsider looking in, but I want to know His heart, His perspectives from the inside out, His thoughts, and His ways. Lord, as I know You even more, may it compel me to love You more. 

“We need to find God, and He cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is a friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers and grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence. The more we receive in silent prayer, the more we can give in our active life. We need silence to be able to touch souls. The essential thing is not what we say but what God says to us and through us. All our words will be useless, unless they come from within. Words that do not give the light of Christ increase the darkness.” 
- Mother Teresa

Finding freedom in silence and solitude tonight. 

“Finally, it is objected that the ultimate loss of a single soul means the defeat of omnipotence. And so it does. In creating human beings with free will, omnipotence from the outset submits to the possibility of such defeat. What you call defeat, I call miracle: for to make things which are not Itself, and thus to become, in a sense, capable of being resisted by its own handiwork, is the most astonishing and unimaginable of all the feats we attribute to the Deity.”
- C.S Lewis, The Problem of Pain 

So yesterday, I went to the worst critique I ever attended to date. Prior to that, anything that could have possibly went wrong did went wrong, and I found myself in a state of distress. I shudder at the thought of that - it felt as if I was reliving my life 2 years ago. However, if it is anything, I give thanks: after all, there is always more, in the experiences that we go through in life, than meets the eye. They would have gone unnoticed, of course, if we had simply just dwelled in our misery at the point in time, and then moved on. Instead, I believe that there is something critically important that the Father wishes to impart in situations as such; and I know that I, for one, never want to miss out on digging deep, and finding these treasures. 

I learned, and was reminded of many things - that His grace is sufficient for me, that I need to work in a Colossians 3:23 way, that my identity is not defined by the work I produce or what I do (and the list goes on…) - but all in all, as I look back on the day, He spoke this one thing that cut to the core of my being. Is it not true, that it is only under such circumstances that we come before Him with a genuine, albeit desperate, plea for help? He delights in such authenticity, that in our brokenness and helplessness, it is Him that we seek. How else would we know what it is like to truly lean in, to draw close, and to learn trust? 

He then proceeded to question me even further: would I rather be in anguish and seek Him earnestly and find Him, or be comfortably positioned such that I would have no need nor desire to seek Him at all? Would I rather have success after success, but finding at the end of the day an alleviated self, and not God lifted high on the pedestal? Or failures that when pieced together, becomes what we know of as the good work of Christ (which He will in time, bring to completion) in me? I gave it a good hard thought, and I arrived at this: I, being the prideful me, would have perhaps delighted in the little trophies that I receive should I succeed, when in all reality God wishes to bestow upon me the crown of life. 
 

“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.”
- James 1:12 

Upon the knowledge of that, I realized then, that I am in desperate need of courage. For if distress draws me close to Him in prayer, let me be distressed. If panic forces me to look to Him for peace, let me panic. And if brokenness reminds me of how I can only be full in Him, let me be broken. God, I say this without trembling: throw another battle into my life. 
 

“Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”
- Romans 5:3-4 

“The lowest type, and one which is ‘love’ at all only by an extension of the word, is that which an artist feels for an artifact. God’s relation to man is pictured thus in Jeremiah’s vision of the potter and the clay [1], or when St. Peter speaks of the whole Church as a building on which God is at work, and of the individual members as stones [2]. The limitation of such an analogy is, of course, that in the symbol the patient is not sentient, and that certain questions of justice and mercy which arise when the ‘stones’ are really ‘living’ therefore remain unrepresented. But it is an important analogy so far as it goes. We are, not metaphorically but in very truth, a Divine work of art, something that God is making, and therefore something with which He will not be satisfied until it has a certain character. Here again we come up against what I have called the ‘intolerable compliment’. Over a sketch made idly to amuse a child, an artist may not take much trouble: he may be content to let it go even though it is not exactly as he meant it to be. But over the great picture of his life - the work which he loves, though in a different fashion, as intensely as a man loves a woman or a mother a child - he will take endless trouble - and would, doubtless, thereby give endless trouble to the picture if it were sentient. One can imagine a sentient picture, after being rubbed and scraped and recommenced for the tenth time, wishing that it were only a thumbnail sketch whose making was over in a minute. In the same way, it is natural for us to wish that God had designed for us a less glorious and less arduous destiny; but then we are wishing not for more love but for less.”
- C.S Lewis, The Problem of Pain  
[1] Jeremiah 18
[2] 1 Peter 2:5 

As an artist/designer, what Lewis employs to illustrate how God loves us fully resonates with me; I remember the time when I stretched the canvas of my A level final work over and over again because it was just, not as fine as I would have liked it to be. The truth is this: He never said it would be easy; He only said we will never walk through it alone. Let us not settle for less, and press on towards the glorious (albeit the discomfort) as we allow Him to refine us through fire. 

(A short musing: to recollect some thoughts in retrospect of an event that happened today)
I have never considered myself as a mediocre communicator until recently; in fact, I have always perceived myself as one who is able to translate my thoughts in a coherent way, such that others understand me. However, lately, I have been questioning whether that is really the case. As I sat in the backseat of a friend’s car today, I might have appeared to be laughing at a joke with them; yet in my heart I could sense something was amiss. It was then, that I realized that while I had put the past behind me (or so I claimed), I was bothered by the repercussions of my silly mistakes. I felt clarification coming to my lips, but somehow I stopped those words from spilling out for I knew that they may very well make matters worse. And so I halted and began staring out of the window, feeling that familiar sense of unsettlement all over again. That is the thing about communication between people - you never know for sure unless you request for the other party to bare his/her thoughts - but even so, who knows if that is really the truth?

I am comforted, however, that whilst communicating my heart to God every day in prayer, He does not ever misunderstand me. I could very well be the worst communicator the earth has ever seen; yet He knows my thoughts before they were even conceived. Before any words can leave my mouth, before any action or gesture betray me, He has already had full knowledge of me. And he knows me full well. Therefore, I find freedom of some sort, an abandonment in the being, that I can simply just lay bare before Him because there is no part of me that He has not seen. Yes, I had furrowed my brows and frowned upon the matter; yet this very understanding of Him directed me to the fact that it was no matter at all, for in whatever circumstance, He knows my heart. And that is really, all that counts. 

In these recent weeks, many a time I had found myself waking from sleep feeling unprepared to face the day, struggling to meet the demands of life with the right spirit. As the end of the semester approaches, it is no surprise that there seem to be a kind of tension in the atmosphere (both in school and in me) as we attempt to cope with the impending deadlines for final projects, presentations and exams. I, as you probably already know, am the worst at handling stress and things of the like; nevertheless, it is also through my lack of joy that the Lord taught me about choosing to rejoice in thanksgiving. 

As I sat in my very last meeting with my unit on Good Friday, what I felt in me I could not fully decipher. I had grown accustomed to this familiarity in the last five years of my life - their beautiful faces, their kindred spirits - and I had allowed God to challenge it. I am, even till this very moment, more than excited to venture into unchartered waters, yet a part of me yearn to hold on to this ministry that I have grown to love more than my own life. I knew somehow, that to a certain extent, this was part of the reason why I had been uprooted; perhaps beneath my love for these people I had taken an unhealthy ownership that He wished to prune. But there and then, as I recalled how we met the previous Good Friday, singing songs in thanksgiving to Him, enjoying the presence of God and one another, an unspeakable joy filled my heart for I knew that in all that had happened, He was always there. Through the mountain highs and the valley lows, He had remained as the same good God, and will continue to be the greatest constant in my life regardless of where I am placed to serve in. 

As I stood in His presence on Easter morning, I found joy in salvation. No amount of vocabulary could describe my gratitude. I am thankful, for the fact that in my salvation I could make sense of the greatest day in history, not just as any other day, but a day that I had been given a second chance. As I sang, I thought of how I could be anywhere else but on that stage, how His work on the cross had compelled me to Him, and how He had beaten the odds by grace such that I acknowledge Him. And as I watched how people streamed down for the very same reason, I found joy in knowing that He had not made salvation exclusive to me only. How blessed I am, to be able to witness hundreds of “The Greatest Day”s, to know that a party was probably thrown up there in heaven, to know that the Father is probably grinning from ear to ear right now that so many had been reconciled with Him. 

In His Word, He has always asked of us to rejoice in Him. If I allow my emotions to be tossed about so easily by circumstances, perhaps I would experience momentary bouts of happiness, but never true joy. But that, is found in Him - in choosing to delight in His character, in choosing to marvel at His goodness, in choosing to give thanks for His faithfulness. In desiring to know more of Him, seeking Him and finding Him, is where I find my joy. 
 

“All joy emphasizes our pilgrim status; always reminds, beckons, awakens desire. Our best havings are wantings.” 
- C.S Lewis

As I sat there on the lime green seat, I was nonchalant. For pretty much the whole time I was in that place, I heard; but I was not really listening. I had come, but with reluctance despite knowing that somewhere deep inside of me I had been yearning for Christ. Up until this very day, I cannot ascertain what contributed to my disinterest - it could have been a silly tinge of pride disguised as apathy, or it could have been fear. Hence, it is with incredulity that I recount how my eyes started to get misty. I fought back tears, but to no avail; out of their own accord, they had insisted on coming. There was just something in those songs that stirred what I had been trying to suppress, that beckoned my tears to come out of hiding. I knew, even at my first experience, that walls had come tumbling down; yet at the same time, there was restoration. It was a peculiar experience, but I liked it, for I was undone. 

I received Him as my personal Lord and Savior that day - to me, there was no question. I could not have conjured up any other response that made sense to me more than saying yes. That was what worship led me to: my salvation. My affinity with music was in no way something that came about overnight; I had known since I was a little girl that it reaches deep into me a place that no other thing can possibly do. And so as young as I was in my faith, I looked on, with impure motives upon that stage. You could say I had an inkling of what He wanted to do through me, but at that point in time, I just wanted a song that was my own to sing. 

He lovingly withheld from me the desires of my heart, for He wanted nothing less (and more) than having a relationship with me. I feel so blessed, because one thing that I will testify is this: the process in which I attempted to align my will for my life to His will for my life has been nothing but joy-filled. His love for me led me to love Him in a way that I can never imagine myself loving, so much so that I am more than convinced that I can never take another step again without this love. His grace revealed His character - that He is quick to forgive and slow to condemn - so much so that I can live with my chin up in my darkest days because I am, a new creation. I could go on forever about how my relationship with Him transformed my life, and perhaps you would be terribly bored, but I will still repeat it anyway. The truth is that He had wrecked me completely, and then rebuilt me as a woman after Him.

I recall making a prayer unto Him three odd years ago. Standing before Him with my hands lifted up, I responded. I asked Him to “use me more”. Now, looking back, I do wonder why I was surprised when a few days after, the vocal ministry leader challenged me to serve as a singer in the worship ministry. Of course, He hears every prayer you make. Today, this prayer still resonates in me. Never would I have imagined being used by Him in such a measure. 

Lord, I remember when I was first asked to start a song by myself in our worship service - I trembled with fear as I struggled to hit every note and every run - but this was what You said to me as I sang: “It has never been about how well you sing; I delight in your complete surrender”. At some point or another, I got proud. You sent people to remind me of You, the Giver of my gifts. You told me to guard my heart against pride, and to always remain humble at Your feet. You told me that insecurity is a form of pride, for I am looking to myself more than I am looking at You. You showed me that there is a difference between being perfectionistic and having the spirit of excellence in my craft. And You reminded me to always sing for the audience of One. And as I sang, I knew the sole reason why I was doing so, for “worthy, worthy. You are worthy. Worthy is the Lord”. Lord, on some nights You saw me kneeling by the bed, crying out to You. I told You how small I felt, but I prayed that even through this mini me, may Your light shine through. You told me that in my weakness, You shall still be exalted. You said that I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, You may display Your unlimited patience and love. You whispered to me, that You will still use me as I continue to abide in You. As I found myself being used by You to minister to thousands in the Singapore Indoor Stadium, I was deeply moved. God, to be able to witness your people worshipping You in spirit and in truth, coming to You in faith for healing and restoration, the synergy of the church as Your Bride…I thank You for the privilege and the honor. Lord, I remember being approached by a brother to sing a song that he wrote for the youth camp 2 years ago. I recall giving my all during rehearsals, but still sensing You wanting to take me deeper into You. I prayed boldly for You to challenge me, so that I may fully understand what it is like to truly “hold on to the One who started my song”. The months that followed were tumultuous - the people under my care turned their backs against me; some even left the church. I remember sitting in a random toilet cubicle in Dunman after a talk with one of the guys one afternoon, bawling my eyes out because someone so precious to You had decided to leave You in pursuit of a life that he thought he could call his own…and all of sudden it made sense to me that You were drawing me near to You, that through it all I need only to hold on to You, “come hell or high water”. I recall singing this song to You and You alone on that night of the opening ceremony of Fireproof camp; it did not matter to me anymore how I sounded, for I knew You did not despise my broken and contrite heart. Later on during the camp, You used Your people once again to minister to me. Lord, You said that You want to use me even more, but I needed to know You more first. You revealed to me how agape love is so essential in leadership. You wish to increase my heart’s capacity to love, and You long for me to know Your Word deeper. I responded, no part of me wanting to lead for my own glory, but simply because I know I desire to respond to Your goodness in my life in that way. 

Fast forward 2 youth camps later, again You caught me by surprise. After receiving the news, I hesitated. Lord, You know I love to sing, and that is why I hesitate when You challenge me to lead in worship. I fear that there may come a point where I realize I am merely singing songs, but not worshipping. I fear that I may overlook the heart of worship, and focus too much on the technicality of things. I fear the responsibility, and I fear for the possible invasion of pride all over again……but soon and very soon You made me see, that I was fearing all these things more than I fear You. It was simple, and clear to me, that I wanted to be a woman who fears the Lord. I made a decision; that I would choose to obey despite all fears and whatever may come my way. I would just do it, because You asked me to. And there, I found myself standing in the jamming studio that very night, knowing nothing but knowing that I knew enough, for I knew You. It was a joy, being mentored to lead; but more so being led by the ultimate Mentor, the Holy Spirit. You reminded me of the importance of having a close partnership with You. Leading worship has always been a spiritual affair, and I knew that I need more than ever, to get within close proximity to You. You spoke tenderly to me, and all I did was to close my eyes and to feel Your presence……why did I fear in the very first place? And then, the day arrived, and the reality sank in: I really was going to lead. I remember sitting there by myself, with Your Word in my hands. I was assured, but I was nervous. What an oxymoron, I know, but God that was exactly how I felt. No amount of well wishes could compare to Your divine assurance as I began to pray, for my being to be fully immersed in You. You moved, needless to say, and You moved powerfully. I recall being in awe; no doubt You worked through me, You worked in me as well. I gained a confidence, not in my own flesh or abilities, but in knowing that You work for the good of those who love You. I learned to depend greater on You, and to let You reign fully in me. 

And then, just yesterday, God, You made my dream come true. Who would have thought that You heard a young girl’s prayer to You, even before she came to love You? Who would have known that You already knew what You wanted to do with her even before she came to know You? This is how lovingly patient You are, that You chose to mould me, bit by bit, in Your timing, such that You can use me to glorify You. This time, I knew You had wiped away any traces of fear in me, and You have poured in me a spirit of peace and assurance. Lord, because all my days had been ordained in Your book before one of them even came to be, I knew that I want to trust in You. And so, I stood on that stage yesterday as Your child and worshipper, free from bondages to praise and to adore You. It was natural for me (in contrast to the many gigs I did), because that was truly what I yearn to do in the depths of my soul - to just sing and dance to You, my King. There and then, in the songs I sang, Lord, You reached deep into my heart and stirred me. You reminded me of the freedom that I have found in being found (Elie Theria: the Lord is my God, therefore I am free), and You brought me to a place that is only known to You and I. As I look back on my encounter with You, Lord, my heart overflows with thanksgiving and humility. I am grateful, that You chose me and You called me by name, that You have set me apart for a purpose such as this. I am humbled, because You had forgiven my transgressions and You see me for who I can be in You. You came, and You moved; yet You left me space to grow in my leadership and You helped me see how much better I can lead as I continue to follow You. I felt unspeakable joy, a joy that is unlike any other, because I knew I have obeyed the King, and served the One whom I love. 

So Lord, here it is again, my prayer. For I know that as much as I have received, You long to pour more into me so that I can be emptied again for Your Kingdom. I speak, but not out of complacency, but of expectancy, of how You will continue to grow me into the woman You want me to be. 

So Lord, use me. Use me more. 

“The problem with evidence is that it is very much limited to the moment and creates the demand for more evidence. I have seen this in my own life over and over. Today it may be a failing business that is in need of God’s intervention. Tomorrow I may want to be healed from cancer. The day after that, I may even want a loved one to be brought back from the dead. 
The worldview of the Christian faith is simple enough. God has put enough into this world to make faith in him a most reasonable thing. But he has left enough out to make it impossible to live by sheer reason alone. 
The teaching of the resurrection caught even the disciples by surprise, for they did not expect this dramatic turn. Their entire hope was politically based - that Jesus would somehow overthrow Rome. But a political victory would have been just as superficial a solution as [Sam] Harris’s solution for slavery and racism. Freedom that is granted only by law will not ensure that a former master sees his former slave as his equal.”
- Ravi Zacharias, The End of Reason  

It amazes me that the kind of hope and freedom that we find with faith far transcends any kind of hope that we can possibly have in placing our belief in politics, in the economy, in our ambitions, careers, in idols, in people around us or anything else, for that matter. For all things can rise, and can fall. But a hope in One who overcame death in itself will never fail.