Redeeming Grace

Christian camps are a delight in that everyone is friendly and helpful and caring. Selfishness becomes a forgotten attribute and everyone strives to be better behaved. Troubled ones are willing to share, and helping hands are abundant. There is a balanced act of receiving and giving, and we tend to reach out more to God in our actions and speech. We face God a good 24 hours a day as long as the camp lasts but after that, out we face the world again. God somehow seems more distant in the real world. It does not have to be that way, but more often than not, it just seems to appear that way.

The last session by Annette was titlted "Redeeming Grace". The talk centred around coming back to God, and how our lives on Earth serve as a survivor lesson rather than a race against time to realise our ambitions.

I was surprised, even shocked, at my indignance towards the way of life that God wants me to lead. I learnt that lesson in an activity we participated in- Missing In Action. The gameplan of the activity goes like this: each person is led to a room where the thing he would see is a giant screen projected against the wall. On the screen is a collection of pictures. To each picture a number is assigned. The person, after a quick glance at the screen, must choose a number. To which a seat is assigned. The person would not know the meaning of the picture until after the activity.

This is how it went for me. I got into the room, had a quick glance at the screen. None of the pictures had much meaning to me, none but one that depicts a labcoat and a stethoscope. I thought to myself that I couldn't be wrong if I were to choose that picture. I made the decision without zero hesitation. Such was the mere act of choosing a picture that revealed the purpose that has been the driving force in my life thus far.

I was quite proud of myself. The confidence was all but vapourised when I found out the meaning to each picture. Confidence turned into shame. It was only at that point of my life, I realised I had been kidding with myself. I chose medicine because I thought it was a noble profession and having done so little in my life plus knowing that God has been so generous with His blessings to my family, I thought I should give back to society. I would lend a hand to God to help Him help my earthly breathren. And what a better way to do that than to help sick people.

I was terribly wrong. The route was there for me to travel, it is all mapped out for me. But the reasons that got me into med school were wrong. Does God need my service? Can He not, in one breath, blow a wind of cure that will rid the world of sickness and diseases? He does not need me, but He wants me. And by secretly but openly guiding me towards this path, He's bringing me closer to Him. From all the hardships I've been through while I've been in IMU, I'm starting to recognize the person that He wants me to be. I still have a long way to go.

We are incomplete homes to the holy spirit. I'm constantly at a construction site. I'm the construction site and the worker, and God the architect. I am, however, a very stubborn or unwise labourer, unwilling or too silly or too preoccupied or not giving sufficient concentration in following the instructions of the building plan. The result could be fatal, could be good or there could just be a few leaks here and there when the building is completed. But here's the catch: we get an unlimited amount of time and funding with the construction, and the work only stops at the architect's command. The other catch is that the architect is always willing to listen and help, all we need to do is just to reach out to Him, it's really as simple as that. The rule of the game is He's always willing to help, and He's always there to oversee the progress, but we have to do the work ourselves.

Life is full of stumbles. Like a project, sometimes we rush the schedule and finish the work too fast. Therein lies the problem, too many mistakes were made along the way. If things turned out not as bad as they should be, good. But what if the foundation was not meticulously laid out? We hit rock bottom, we crumble, and we shatter into pieces. But with God's grace, all is not lost as long as He gives us breath. We shall pick up the pieces and start rebuilding. If God says it's not time to give up yet, we shall not give up. Goes does not intend for us to finish the work ahead of schedule, He intends for us to finish the work properly.

The messages shared by Annette had a common reminder: God is watching us. He's looking after us and He's monitoring our progress. However, He's not just watching from the sidelines, He provides nourishment when we're dry, energy when we're fatigued, and protection when we're scared. He provides help when we need it.

Kitchen knives, being sharp objects, can be used to cause injuries: when they penetrate the skin, they leave scars. When we look at the scars, we are reminded the danger they impose, so we avoid them, we keep them safe compartments. Nonetheless, they'd still be there because we need them. They are tools to cook.

Bad memories, terrible memories are tools for our development purposes. When we're hurt by certain events, we keep them in places they can no longer inflict harm to us. But they don't disappear. They do not cease to exist, they leave scars for us to remember they hurt us before. But rather than fearing them, utilise them to grow. Tap into those memories to help us reach out to God, and God, sensing our insecurities, will come to our aid and redeem us. Come home to God.

At the end of the talk, Annette asked us to write on these clear pebbles the greatest lessons we've learnt in life. Maybe not a lesson, perhaps a memory that haunts us. She asked us to cast the pebbles onto the the floor, in the middle of the hall we were in. It's a symbol that we were handing over the largest insecurities in our lives to God. Memories which are halting our growth, which are disrupting our relationship with God. Rather than being embittered by those experiences, hand them over to God, so that He can manifest Himself to us to guide us the meanings of those memories. He knows our fragility, He's our heavenly father and He wants to protect us, and He can only do so if we surrender to Him. He continues knocking on the door, but He will not force His way into our lives should we not welcome Him.

Annette named the action of writing on and the casting of the pebbles "The Ebenezer Trail". The word Ebenezer means "so far, God's been in my heart" (Bible verses from 1 Samuel Chapters 6 and 7). The word trail is self explanatory. It's a trail, He does not come out of nowhere, all of a sudden, He's always been there. It's up to us to trace the trail, and discover Him.