Life like an MRT line

You have felt it  ---bodies too closed, all packed in the train...faces buried in smartphones, hearts fighting a thousand shadows. So much a picture of life: we nearly touch but we don't connect, we wish and long, but we fear push back. So we stand in our little spaces and try not to totter in the lurching movements, wary of others coming too close.

It isn't just the ride that reminds me of life. The MRT lines I found one day, did too. Just take these three:

NE (northeast) --  Not Enough line.
The moment we board the train of life, we begin a journey to grasp for more. It is never enough. We can do better, grow more, give more, be at more places, experience more....this relentless chugging for more. We live tired lives of pursuing the more.

We all ride this line.

EW (east west) -- Ever Worrying line.
I can sing 'I've got peace like a river' and do  all the fun actions, but the river of peace is often a long trek away from where I am. For you too? We need to escape life to find it. It's been called the vacation - we vacate and leave our hearts emptier of the burdens... Only to find they still sit snugly in our in-trays and sometimes even gets highlighted in our to-do lists when we return.

Many of us are here, especially us parents.

NS (northsouth) -- No Solution line.
There is that one person or situation you cannot fix. There is nothing you can do to change it. You are stuck in this carriage; the door it seems is jammed and the air is getting stuffy.

Some of us certainly feel we took the wrong train to end up here.



If we really took the wrong train and got on the wrong line, we would't hesitate to get off at the next station and hop on the right train. But these lines are different. They aren't so easy to get off; especially if you are tired and the lull of the engines have made you sleepy....


I have met many sleepy people. They will tell of their woes and go over their troubles but sadly, it takes too much to contemplate that they can actually get off these lines.

But listen, the Life Engineer announces above the lulling motion and noises:

" I am near. 

Do not fret or have any anxiety, about anything, but in every circumstance and in everything, by prayer and petition (definite requests), with thanksgiving, 

continue to make your wants known to me. 

And my pace shall be yours 

(that tranquil state of a soul assured of its salvation through Christ, and so fearing nothing from me and being content with its earthly lot of whatever sort it is, that peace) 

which transcends all understanding shall 

garrison and mount guard over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."

~ Philippians 4v5b-7

Last year, I jerked to a realisation that I had forgotten this teensy bit the Enginner speaks of here: by prayer and petition (definite requests)....make your wants known. 

We outgrow the basics to our peril. I began writing down specifics. And I saw specifics being answered. This means God is not good in some general sense; God is specifically, precisely, spot-on good. That's the power of being definite. It made me ask what it is I truly wanted; it made me come to know my own heart .... and realise how much God cared about how I turned out. Like a late-blooming teen finally getting it that his parent really does want the best for him (and in this case, the parent is perfect too).

One other thing too right smack here: thanksgiving.

There are always things to be thankful for. Seriously. Try it.

Thankful-living is deep art, a mysterious force that pries open our crusted, cynical hearts, so that we are able to look within, see what we truly want, and pray audacious. 

Don't attempt great prayers until you attend to grand thanksgiving!

The train is here. I'm headed Downtown. 

And souls, a lil' reminder:

broken-hearts

Like the ever-expanding universe that is moving ever outwards, it’s hard to hold together when you feel like your being is shattered into a zillion pieces and they are orbiting in crazed random circles, the only thing you can do not to explode or fall flat on your face is to pretend and get on with the day.

At other times, sudden tornadoes come ripping up what little you managed to stick in the sand and everything comes tumbling down again. Your body is assaulted by wrecking sobs and your thoughts are spinning around: more of the same. Tumult rages as you fight off anger, guilt and fear. At times, the darkness offers you a broth of venom to drink or to disguise and offer it to the other.

You want to run away, cut loose, forget but you are shackled.

You look for help but yet you know help is not at hand: no, they are not able to enter this with you. No one can.

Then it can get all quiet and deathly and you don’t even bother to pinch yourself to check if blood still courses through your being.

This is how a broken heart feels.

And perhaps –

This is how hanging on the Cross feels.

Why?

I feel—so -- abandoned !

I’m thirsty!

I am dying… into your hands, I commit my spirit.

These words are the best prayers at such a time.

Listen, it is not a physical death that counts when a heart is broken. That is pure fraud. For your heart lives on. 

But a dying is happening -

of cherished dreams.

of prized relationships.

of personal confidence and success.

Let  . the . death . happen.

But know this: death is always a precursor to Life.

Like the tiny seed that must suffer so when it is put into the dark ground and covered up; no longer able to see the light of day and wondering why its tiny being is bursting apart. An inexorable force of Life is ripping at it so it won’t remain a seed.

Trust in Life. Trust in God.

water, shawn

Tell it to Him, words not needed:

I am weary with my moaning, every night I flood my bed with tears, I drench my couch with my weeping. ~ Psalm 6v6

You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book? 

~ Psalm 56v8

Why?

I feel—so -- abandoned !

I’m thirsty!

I am dying… into your hands, I commit my spirit.

                                                                                                                  

Wait, like the seed in the dark. Don’t run, and don’t take matters into your own hands. 

Wait.

And you shall feel it.

Then you will be able to say it, first unsteadily, but with increasing clarity:

For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling. 

~ Psalm 116v8

Scriptures are from the ESV.

I am a witness, and a servant

We like to think we made things happen. After all -

we planned the trips
we cooked the meals
we rounded up the people
we bought the gifts
we made the trip
we prayed the prayers

Then yesterday, as a group of us middle-aging ladies, laughing over the silliness of our age, sitting deeper into our chairs and talked together, I was drawn to this ~

"you are my witnesses, declares the LORD, and my servant whom i have chosen.." 
~ Isaiah 43v10

Who me?
I am a witness it says. It means that I have seen things. I was there at the scene. I was privy to certain happenings. I saw it.

Some philosopher once said we are lonely until we now our lives have been noticed; that we have witnesses to our existence. Perhaps this is why we crave attention, affirmation, and if we are bold enough, pre-arrange for our funeral eulogy (why not?). There is this famous line from that movie, Shall We Dance when Susan Sarandon says:

You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'.

We need witnesses. God has granted us unique finger prints so we know that we can leave our mark. Our lives matter, always - to someone, and in the end. 

We are familiar too with the idea that God watches over us and some of us are afraid of that dread day when our lives are played like a movie for all to watch {who came up with this scary idea?}.

But here the prophet Isaiah says God considers us His witnesses. This means that the action is happening outside of us. We are the watchers, the onlookers at Life and Grace playing out.

This means that for God to be real to us; we need to find Him real. We need to witness Him about our lives, our world. 

Witnessing God is what leads to knowing, believing, and then, understanding -

"...so that you may know and believe and understand that I am he." 

When we don't take notice of God, our faith shrinks. Growing faith confidence begins with what we notice, observe, see.

God in, God grows, God out. 

Witnesses tell of what they have seen and felt and known.

So how much of my life reveals God?

Recently, one of my favourite ways of remembering people is to think of how they remind me of God. Some of them show me His generosity, others help me remember that He is kind. There is jocularity, mercy, forgiveness, truth-telling, and more.

What of my life? What of yours?

And then, we are His servants. 

Seriously, most of Christianity today pays lip service to this. The way we talk and live make it looks more like God is serving us, isn't it? In fact, our moods, commitments and valour rise and fall according to how we perceive God has treated us. We are in the centre, and on the throne not God. 

Perhaps the two are linked. 

If we witnessed more of God, we would know our place as His servants more readily. 


We are His servants by choice - let us notice God and see how in our lives he is working to bless others.

"you are my witnesses", declares the LORD, and my servant whom i have chosen, so that you may know and believe me and understand that I am he. 

Before me no god was formed, nor will there be one after me..."

So, have you noticed God today?

And just for parents, here: wisdom of revealing God to our children {click, and be enriched}

Moms' day--"'over-rated' / disappointed - and why i will give you a look.

So Mother's Day is two days away (for countries including: United States, Italy, Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Finland, and Turkey). And yes there are poster, stickers, photos, words lyrical everywhere... and then, 

someone, somewhere is going to say the whole thing is over-rated, we made too big of a deal, we should be nice to our mothers everyday.

If you say that to me, I will give you  my finest "you are so wrong" look.  Because -

we need special days to make everyday special. It's just us.

The baboons don't need it. My cat is happy with her routines. The fish gurgle gladly to where they were first spawned. Not us. We were made for more; so we will reach for more. 

But we forget and we lower ourselves - each day we busy with our pedestrian appetites of buying, selling, getting ahead ... we forget. We forget what truly matters. We forget how good it is to be alive. We forget how much love we have received {and so can give} - even if, yes, much of it came through broken  containers and sometimes we suffer cuts as that love is poured clumsily, fitfully through our very human mothers.

Honour a special day for it cracks your heart that bit more and Life flows into spaces opened up. And our days - they flow one into another, don't they?

Another group I will reserve the "you are so wrong look"  for will be my fellow-moms who due to a day on the calendar that has gotten us looking forward to breakfast in bed, flowers, thank you notes... and as a fellow mom* admits, we expect it and huff when we don't get it. 

What we expect can become entitlement. 

"We deserve it distorts the  the sacrifice of motherhood and spins it in dizzying, disorienting circles.

Motherhood bends. Entitlement demands.
Motherhood serves. Entitlement stomps its foot.
Motherhood delights. Entitlement keeps lists.
Motherhood laughs. Entitlement whines.
Motherhood celebrates. Entitlement sulks.
Motherhood forgets itself in favor of remembering her dimple, his fastest mile, their mouths all ringed around with chocolate.

Entitlement tastes bitterness in every bite of a day that doesn't go as planned."


Let's pray for, and do something loving for our moms, for Love never fails.

Fellow moms, let's gladden our hearts in our high calling and perhaps inspire ourselves afresh as the whole world give recognition to our calling.


Here's a bit of inspiration and something to think about then -

A good mother is a role model for her immediate family and for everyone else she meets. Her joy makes those around her happy. And every woman is called to be a mother, whether married or single, and whether or not she has had children. People notice a woman who loves God and whose primary concern is serving others.

I cannot thank God enough for the love of my own mother, and for her deep relationship with my father. Even though they could never be called "religious" people, it was obvious to us seven children that our parents loved God, each other, and each one of us. And while it was clear that our father was head of the family, he never tolerated the slightest disrespect from us towards our mother.

Many women today resent the idea of motherhood, but they forget that it is a privilege as well as a task. Once regarded as the highest calling of woman, it is now pushed aside by "real" careers and viewed as an inconvenience or even an embarrassment. While this rebellion might be understandable in the case of oppression and abuse, it achieves nothing. How different family life could be if we admitted our confusion over the roles of man and woman; if we sought to rediscover God's plan for both, and regarded one another with respect and love!

Women today hold important jobs right up to the time they go into labor, and that is admirable. But when pregnancy and children require it, a woman's first priority should always be motherhood. She should be a mother first and foremost – and only after that, a doctor, teacher, lawyer, manager, or accountant. Far from regretting or resenting it, she ought to feel that motherhood is a gift, and that in God's eyes, there is no sacrifice more worthy than one made for a child.

Finally, watch this:

Moms, these things you are. Be great-ful!

Credit: Inspiration from Johann Christoph Arnold & mom sharing taken off http://lisajobaker.com/

When you don't feel steady..

Today I went down to the hospital to visit my sister. This is day 7 after her surgery. Her surgeon, Prof Thomas had exclaimed with confidence that the operation was a sailing success and prior to the operation had told her she can expect to be home on day 8.

She feels this unyielding pressure on her head which worsens at bedtime or when she moves.

Brain surgery is a sensitive piece of work.

The porter came by to wheel her upstairs for physiotherapy. I decided to go along. The rehab room was busy even though the movements were slow and tentative. A disinterested looking tall Indian physio was introduced to us as observing for audit purposes. Slowly, they asked her to perform different tasks to assess her sense of balance and to check if any optical nerves or vestibule-related concerns need to be addressed.

Somehow watching my older sister going through this made a weakness come over me. I wasn't going to faint; but when she teared, I did too. Perhaps I felt impotent. Or perhaps all our years of growing up, working, and being successful - especially since we started in humble circumstances - fell about us and we were as vulnerable as tykes figuring out a bike: she struggled to stand steady while I wrestled to be strong for her.

Sometimes, no matter how strong we have been, we feel unsteady. But it's a temporary upset. It isn't pleasant. It may take a while before we find our feet.

The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms. 

~ Deuteronomy 33v27

This uncertain journey and all the courage it took would not happen without the extensions of these everlasting arms: the prayers of many, the care and concern of friends and family. Even as I dried my tears and breathed deep, I let these Arms steady me, and help me to be present enough for my sister. 

There are important questions to ask, things to learn, decisions to make. 

Being held and present is important. 

I probed a little and finally wrote down the main areas of concern we wanted to raise with the neurosurgeon. {do that because the doctors aren't easy to catch hold of!} 

A few hours later, this phone message: thanks for coming by today.

I came by sister; but Someone never left.