When destiny hides

When I think back on my trip to Singapore and what it meant, there is one moment in time that stands out sharply. 

It was peak hours on Friday evening, I was exhausted after days of attending meetings and amending/translating our NGO Constitution.  I was due to fly back to Dili the next day. And there was one final, important meeting, the very reason why I had gone back to Singapore - to collect the final draft of the Constitution from LK, signed by the two directors based in Singapore.

She was in Toa Payoh, heading to Woodlands, I was at City Hall, bound for Boon Lay. We had a very short window of time to catch each other. There were a few confusing and contradicting messages about where best to meet, because try as I did, I couldn't remember anymore which station was on which line. Finally though, I decided it made sense to meet inside City Hall MRT station, on the platform where she would catch a train from. Even then I had to pause and read the map to know which escalator to take to the right platform, feeling very much like a stranger in my own country...

We did meet finally, LK whipped out the Constitution, and signed on every page on the document, balancing it precariously on the ledge of some railing at the platform. There and then, as faceless, nameless people surrounded us from every direction, to the sound of train doors opening and closing, I suddenly was gripped with a realisation that history was being made, that this was a defining moment for us as a ministry, and for future generations of Timorese. This Constitution would be the blueprint of Cocoon, enshrining our vision, mission and objectives, and the principles by which we would operate. This was a seed that once sowed, would grow into the tree of the Kingdom that would provide refuge for many others. This was it, this moment would be the start of a new chapter in our history, in His story in and through us in Timor.

The document signed and handed over to me, we parted ways. I was thoroughly exhausted and very hungry. While on the train, I started texting different people in Singapore to say goodbye, as well as update the team in Timor on the latest developments - and was jolted out of my tiredness when I heard the train announce Pioneer station. I had missed my stop at Boon Lay. I stumbled off the train, not quite believing how careless I was. 

That being my last evening in Singapore, I had some last minute shopping to do, and I literally dragged myself across the retail sprawl that is Jurong Point to get the absolute essentials. By the time I got home, I was absolutely knackered and starved.

While I ate dinner, I couldn't shake off a growing conviction that God's destiny for us is often hidden in the most mundane and even embarrassing of circumstances - like figuring out which train platform to go to, and forgetting to get off at the right station, which in my case was my home station! And yet, destiny and history were hidden right there in these seemingly random and disconnected events.

When we hear stories of God at work, we hear the dramatic plots, the interesting characters, the surprising climax and marvel at the adventures other people have. For many people, that is how they think about God's salvation story in the world. Hearing it recounted in 30 second summaries is one thing though, and living through it minute by minute, day by day, complete with the accidents of life in all of human weakness and folly is something wholly different.

When I have a most boring and mundane day, or when the whole day is like a comedy of errors, I think back to that moment when time stood still on that platform at City Hall bound for Woodlands on one side, and Joo Koon on the other, and remind myself that despite, in spite of all my boo-boos, He is writing His story, and I am living my destiny, in a subversive, secret sort of way.