Memories
All of last night and this morning, I had a deep desire to write. My emotions were overflowing but the thoughts didn’t come. I had just met with two young women with a heart for missions. Sharing my own journey to the nations unleashed a lot of memories.
Memories of emotions.
Of a raw and deep hunger after God, the sort that starts from the gut and rushes to the heart and echoes throughout your being, becoming one with the groans of the Spirit.
Of self-doubt throughout the long process of waiting upon God to reveal the when and the how.
Of the impulse to cry as I sat down to log on at work because I was just so bone tired after working the night shift the day before, and waking up at 6am to go to bible school.
Of a deep frustration that an honest day of labour would go up in smoke with every imperfection in the news bulletins I produced, no matter how hard I tried.
There are also memories of places.
Of being on bus 157 one afternoon, contemplating the death of a veteran missionary, forcing back the tears and telling God that I would die for Him, only to have Him say, “I don’t need you to die for Me. Just live for Me.”
Of myself in a cab, going home after yet another night shift, watching the street lights fly past in the stillness of the night, feeling my heart stirring again as John 6:27 replays itself in my mind. “Do not labour for the food that perishes…”
Of myself walking across the overhead bridge along Adam Road and into Caldecott Hill, lugging theological books from the library, under the blazing sun, feeling absolutely exhausted, yet somehow finding the strength to keep going for one more day.
There are memories of Scriptures.
Of the land that must rest after six years of cultivation, and the seventh year that belongs to the Lord. "So will I take you out after your 6-year bond and give you rest from your strivings. Just trust Me."
Of Jacob who served seven more years to win Rachel but it felt like only a few days because he loved her so. "Do you love me enough to serve one more year in church before going out?"
And so, all the memories merge into one, as I stand undone before Him who has ordained all the days of my life.
'Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and His ways past finding out!
“For who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has become His counselor?
Or who has first given to Him
And it shall be repaid to him?
For of Him, and through Him and to Him are all things, to whom be glory forever. Amen.'
Memories of emotions.
Of a raw and deep hunger after God, the sort that starts from the gut and rushes to the heart and echoes throughout your being, becoming one with the groans of the Spirit.
Of self-doubt throughout the long process of waiting upon God to reveal the when and the how.
Of the impulse to cry as I sat down to log on at work because I was just so bone tired after working the night shift the day before, and waking up at 6am to go to bible school.
Of a deep frustration that an honest day of labour would go up in smoke with every imperfection in the news bulletins I produced, no matter how hard I tried.
There are also memories of places.
Of being on bus 157 one afternoon, contemplating the death of a veteran missionary, forcing back the tears and telling God that I would die for Him, only to have Him say, “I don’t need you to die for Me. Just live for Me.”
Of myself in a cab, going home after yet another night shift, watching the street lights fly past in the stillness of the night, feeling my heart stirring again as John 6:27 replays itself in my mind. “Do not labour for the food that perishes…”
Of myself walking across the overhead bridge along Adam Road and into Caldecott Hill, lugging theological books from the library, under the blazing sun, feeling absolutely exhausted, yet somehow finding the strength to keep going for one more day.
There are memories of Scriptures.
Of the land that must rest after six years of cultivation, and the seventh year that belongs to the Lord. "So will I take you out after your 6-year bond and give you rest from your strivings. Just trust Me."
Of Jacob who served seven more years to win Rachel but it felt like only a few days because he loved her so. "Do you love me enough to serve one more year in church before going out?"
And so, all the memories merge into one, as I stand undone before Him who has ordained all the days of my life.
'Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and His ways past finding out!
“For who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has become His counselor?
Or who has first given to Him
And it shall be repaid to him?
For of Him, and through Him and to Him are all things, to whom be glory forever. Amen.'
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