What really matters

Didn't get to sleep last night, must have been the tea I had with my adopted parents at dinnertime. Kept turning and tossing on my bed, my mindgoing through the events of the day and the more I think about it, the more I feel I should do something.

Anyways, the day started with me doing the groceries early in the morning. My entire family - mom, brother, sis-in-law, niece - is down with high fever. So that means the responsibility falls on me to run the household for the time being. I stuffed the fridge with enough food for a week (since I will be away for work during the long weekend), and instructed our maid on meals, medication for the sick, cleanliness, etc, etc.

Then I personally inspected each one of them (family members) before going to work. I didn't even have time to run my own errands at the bank.

Oh yeah, my main contention is with the work I am doing. Not the fact that I should work, but the kind of work involved. It just sucks up too much of my time (and energy), and leaves me little precious time (ie, just before I sleep, right after I wake up & stolen toilet moments) to read. It's taking me three days to get halfway through "The Trivialisation of God", which happens to be fairly easy-reading material too.

It didn't help when my adopted father commented that my work "controls me". I know he is right, but to put some perspective in there, I have to consider the season of life God has me in. Some 'divine tweaking' is probably needed in the general area of my commitment. It may have been good enough for me, but God has a higher purpose. I can't claim to know what it is, but I trust Him.

So I am back to the grind.

One thing keeps thumping my thoughts. That one's gifting doesn't necessarily commensurate with one's calling. Paul (of the Bible) is my model. I mean, this guy sat at the feet of Gamaliel, and back in his days, that would be equivalent to two doctorates. And what did Paul end up doing? Sewing tents to survive his nomadic lifestyle. I think of the pastor who works part-time as a gas attendant; my godpa who gave up his job as vice-president of a financial group to attend to the needs of the poor and stricken; my many friends who gave up status, power and prestige to serve others in lowly-esteemed positions.

What is evident is not their sacrifice, but their love.

But, I say to myself, I have done those things too. I have sacrificed, abandoned my life to God; He's done quite a few miraculous things with it and ... what's next? What do I do with a "post-cross-cultural missionary" lifestyle?

I don't think there are easy answers. Simple maybe, but not easy. Sure, gloss it over with the "wait for God's timing", "you are a missionary wherever you are placed" talk and all that comes along with it. But memories don't die. The taste of the goodness of God while living on the edge of faith... sears like a hot branding iron in my soul. And it hurts. It hurts because it has receded into the recesses of memory, to be recalled merely as stories of the past.

However, if faith is a continuim, it has to be able to hold up to the different changes in every stage of life. I dunno how I am faring with the changes, and honestly I don't really care anymore. Have other issues to deal with, like how would I live my life today to maximise it for God's kingdom?


When it's all been said and done
There is just one thing that matters
Did I do my best to live for Truth
Did I life my life for You

When it's all been said and done
All my treasures will mean nothing
Only what I've done for Love's reward
Will stand the test of time

Lord Your mercy is so great
That you see beyond my weakness
And find purest gold in miry clay
Making sinners into saints

I will always sing Your praise
Here on earth and ever after
For You've shown me heaven's my true home
When it's all been said and done
You're my Life when life is gone.

When It's All Said and Done
(Jim Cowan)