it's like taking a shower
I haven't fallen sick like this in awhile... It's not a nice feeling; not a nice feeling at all. Pardon me if I write weirdly today, I just finished reading this absurdly eccentric book lent to me by none other than Miss Mun Weilin. It's called "The Spell Book of Listen Taylor", written by Jacylyn Moriarty (Finding Cassie Crazy author!). Very strange experience. Haha. Not unlike this experience of being sick. Perhaps it is the pounding in my head, or the suffocating film of heat that clings to my skin, but it feels as though I have been removed from this world. It is as though I am at the same time invisible and invincible. As such, I am doing my best to stay away from windows and busy streets, but fear not, I still have my mind. It is in a tortured state, though, with little elf-like creatures constantly banging upon its door, only to find that when answered, it was nothing more than a cruel game of Doorbell Ditch. I couldn't bring myself to sleep any longer, so I spent the day fiddling around absent-mindedly with my guitar, watching a few videos on YouTube, and reading the book. I had to venture into the outside world twice, though, once, to pay the deposit for the use of the BBQ pits on Thursday night, and then again, to pick up some cocktail sausages and other items for the same event. I conclude that walking does not help headaches. It's been a slow day.
Anyway, in other news, I spent my weekend at the YWCA lodge, with a group of young adults from my church. It was a good retreat; nothing earth-shattering or life-changing, but perhaps that is because we live with such truths each day. After all, the Gospel isn't exactly your ordinary bedtime story. I think the message I took away from the retreat was this: you can't expect to experience the power and reality of the Christian life if you aren't living it in the first place. Sounds very duh, I know, but don't we all struggle with it?
Periods of dryness, days you wake up and the world seems abnormally grey, you stand stationary in the midst of a crowd that's jumping energetically and singing along emphatically to the songs of praise that are being led in church, wondering why you do not feel that same urge. Wondering, "How can I stand here and not be moved by You?". Wondering what's wrong.
Years of Sunday School classes and Sunday sermons, and even cell group discussions and the odd conversation with friends about God and life with God tell you, "Look to Him. Go back to Him. He is the answer."
But you thought you were, you were doing just fine! This sudden feeling of dryness came so...suddenly. Where did it come from? What changed overnight?
I tend to get caught up in that question of "What changed?", so that I can try to change it back, but maybe there isn't an answer. Maybe the only answer is that it's a new day, and yesterday's manna is not for today. More often than not, because I'm so caught up in trying to figure out why I'm feeling this way, I don't feel like turning to God. I don't feel like praying, don't feel like singing, don't feel like doing any of the things that I know are the way back to Him. Because the pride in me says, "But I never really strayed, so why should I be needing to find my way back?". And so I wander around and around wondering what the problem is, when the problem is, simply, that I'm not bringing myself to God.
And so, after so many months, the word I'm hearing is still surrender. Total, utter, complete surrender.
It's like taking a shower. I, at least, face a great amount of inertia when thinking about taking a shower. I know I need a shower, and past experience tells me that a shower will refresh me, and make me feel good, but I still cannot, or, more accurately, refuse to drag myself to take a shower, and until I do, until I physically enter the bathroom and get into that shower and turn on the water... Until then, I will not experience the truth and the reality of that knowledge that showers make me feel good. Until I bring myself before the Lord, abandoning all else, I will not experience the truth and reality of His power in my life. His love, His everything. And sometimes I think I am in the shower, but I don't feel that constant, abiding feeling of God's love for me. In actual fact, I may be in the shower, but I haven't taken off my clothes. I am not in the proper state to take a shower, and to receive the refreshment it can offer, because a shower is really not the place to be soaked in your clothes (although a particular scene from Grey's Anatomy Season 5 involving Cristina and the army dude and a shower and clothes does come to mind). We may come to God, still holding on to many things... Feelings of despair, of anger, of confusion, of hurt... They must be surrendered. And as we surrender them, we are not left there naked, for surrender to God is usually an exchange, I think. A surrendering of sorrows to receive His eternal joy, ashes to receive a crown of beauty, despair for a garment of praise, our clothes for the refreshing and cleansing touch of water from the shower. Mm.
Time for me to take a shower now.
Anyway, in other news, I spent my weekend at the YWCA lodge, with a group of young adults from my church. It was a good retreat; nothing earth-shattering or life-changing, but perhaps that is because we live with such truths each day. After all, the Gospel isn't exactly your ordinary bedtime story. I think the message I took away from the retreat was this: you can't expect to experience the power and reality of the Christian life if you aren't living it in the first place. Sounds very duh, I know, but don't we all struggle with it?
Periods of dryness, days you wake up and the world seems abnormally grey, you stand stationary in the midst of a crowd that's jumping energetically and singing along emphatically to the songs of praise that are being led in church, wondering why you do not feel that same urge. Wondering, "How can I stand here and not be moved by You?". Wondering what's wrong.
Years of Sunday School classes and Sunday sermons, and even cell group discussions and the odd conversation with friends about God and life with God tell you, "Look to Him. Go back to Him. He is the answer."
But you thought you were, you were doing just fine! This sudden feeling of dryness came so...suddenly. Where did it come from? What changed overnight?
I tend to get caught up in that question of "What changed?", so that I can try to change it back, but maybe there isn't an answer. Maybe the only answer is that it's a new day, and yesterday's manna is not for today. More often than not, because I'm so caught up in trying to figure out why I'm feeling this way, I don't feel like turning to God. I don't feel like praying, don't feel like singing, don't feel like doing any of the things that I know are the way back to Him. Because the pride in me says, "But I never really strayed, so why should I be needing to find my way back?". And so I wander around and around wondering what the problem is, when the problem is, simply, that I'm not bringing myself to God.
And so, after so many months, the word I'm hearing is still surrender. Total, utter, complete surrender.
It's like taking a shower. I, at least, face a great amount of inertia when thinking about taking a shower. I know I need a shower, and past experience tells me that a shower will refresh me, and make me feel good, but I still cannot, or, more accurately, refuse to drag myself to take a shower, and until I do, until I physically enter the bathroom and get into that shower and turn on the water... Until then, I will not experience the truth and the reality of that knowledge that showers make me feel good. Until I bring myself before the Lord, abandoning all else, I will not experience the truth and reality of His power in my life. His love, His everything. And sometimes I think I am in the shower, but I don't feel that constant, abiding feeling of God's love for me. In actual fact, I may be in the shower, but I haven't taken off my clothes. I am not in the proper state to take a shower, and to receive the refreshment it can offer, because a shower is really not the place to be soaked in your clothes (although a particular scene from Grey's Anatomy Season 5 involving Cristina and the army dude and a shower and clothes does come to mind). We may come to God, still holding on to many things... Feelings of despair, of anger, of confusion, of hurt... They must be surrendered. And as we surrender them, we are not left there naked, for surrender to God is usually an exchange, I think. A surrendering of sorrows to receive His eternal joy, ashes to receive a crown of beauty, despair for a garment of praise, our clothes for the refreshing and cleansing touch of water from the shower. Mm.
Time for me to take a shower now.