Thursday, 16 April 2009

• I’ve been hurt – part 2 (that which continues after part the first)

  And where was God in amongst all of this? Well, right there beside me actually. It was in most private and miserable moments where I found Him.

  I remember a time where I was so lost that I pleaded for God to reveal to me why I felt so bad; after all, I should be glad that my parents are not longer always so angst-ridden that they’re calling me up every hour to check where I am and to ensure that I wasn’t skipping meals. I should be proud of myself for being able to take the step to compromise, and appreciative of the fact that my folks care so much about me.

  God spoke to me in such times, after a while, after I’d stopped pouring out my sorrows and complaints like the writer of Psalm 102. The depth of my hurt and pain is a reflection, albeit a poor one, of the hurt and pain felt by our Father and his desire to have a relationship with us. It shocked me to realise that whilst I was busy being miserable, God was hurting more, for me! The Maker of Heaven and Earth was hurting for me and waiting to turn back to Him.

  I rediscovered that, for me at least, it is in my moments of vulnerability that God speaks strongest to and through me. 

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  In my preoccupation with my vulnerability and my problems, it seemed that I had become the one thing I had always thought it was against my nature to be: passive. I am not referring to the beautiful fragility and strength displayed by so many ‘church women’ or the energetic peacefulness exuded by content housewives. The passivity I saw in myself was more of the couch-potato, apathetic kind. When it comes to principles and important matters (other than studying as a rule), I’ve always like to think of myself as an active, passionate person (some who know me more closely may call this trait stubbornness). Imagine then, my shock when I found myself being so enervated in my faith – God as supposed to mean everything to me! Did I not sing and shout to testify as such during worship and to my Christian peers? Why then was I flinging my arms out like a small spoilt child who was too lazy to take any responsibility for herself? “Bless me, Lord…make me change (but please make the change easy and effortless)”

  I had forgotten how to fight for the divine-given spiritual transformation of the self that comes from true passion and life in faith. I had become so bogged down in my so-called suffering and fixated on “letting go and giving it to God” that I had lost the urgency and drive to take action in faith.

  I remember, about this time last year, I wrote about ‘active surrendering’; where I found myself constantly battling against my natural urge to do things my way, so I may conscientiously surrender to God’s will. Now, it seems, with my natural urge to fight for things switched off, the counter-instinct to dampen down this impulse lies redundant as well, which gives rise to my recent pathetic state.

  I remember how I found joy in fighting for my faith, in clawing back that extra half an hour in the day so I may have some quite time before dinner (even though it was amongst manic exam revision); however, I also remember the peace I found when I first truly surrendered to His guidance. Perhaps the ideal spiritual condition and my aim ought to be the equilibrium of these two states?

  Yet the question remains: HOW?!

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