The Troubled Hands in my Feeble Hands

I have made choices and decisions I’m not proud of. I have lost tiny of self-love and cared too much of every circumstances rather than what’s white-headed. I ripped myself to keep others whole. I gave everything and left nothing but self pity. I denied and mistrusted what other people are willing to renounce for my own sake of unworthy self-sacrifice. I can’t go back. I have lived to this ideal of what someone should be and push them away when they turn out to be something different. But the truth is, no one could ever live up to that ideal. I have said this to myself many times. My heart is sympathetic and soft. I forgive with a free hand and without reservation. Even those who have shattered me, intentionally or unintentionally. Including those who have done it numerous times, I bury the hatchet and feel no resentment towards them. My doors are never closed. Without pretence, I welcome people back in my life and fix what’s broken even the things that are beyond repair. In all honesty, my best-loved declaration of faith from someone else’s tongue is when I hear them say, “let’s talk..” Precisely. A bit much for others, worrisome and gut wrenching for many. Some would think it’s good for nothing. But for me, this is a compelling appeal, quintessential and bread and butter to secure amity and sometimes, reconciliation.

Very recently, I have this missing a puzzle piece. Which I knew I can always complete easily or fix unmistakably. Questions came out of my troubled mind. Now that the rain has finally fallen, am I now in control of the possibilities and outcomes that constitute of being free from any afflictions, empty promises and letdowns? Could this be a time to give myself of a very worthy chance from the things I have previously neglected my self with? A chance to grasp every moment with butterflies and heartbeat and not with fear or anticipation of failure? To voluntarily embrace a new fate and a situation favouring a purpose for myself and not only for others? To unguard the door I have been keeping closed from someone’s right of entry?

I unexpectedly heard a knock at the door. The door that I have always kept locked, where no one is capable of infiltrating but me. Built with the highest walls to protect myself from any unwarranted entry of this hostile territory. I stood closely and strangely felt the same distinctive atmosphere I had 4 or 5 years ago. I was scared to unlock it but my hands were hopeful, but at the same time, rebellious and has given up to a resisting control. There was this light, gentle wind that draws into my face but my eyes were blinded by an earnest gaze. It was a rare but troubled sight. The anonymity began to subside but we both didn’t know when and how to begin.

The moment of deliberation came when you said ‘’hi” and it sounded very lowly and uncomplicated. My mind cruises with doubts and questions, bubbles of confusion but I started to become wordless and lip-tied. Deep down inside, there was one question I wanted to ask. Just one question. If you remember the last time I asked you to wipe your hands after you shut the same door you are about to set foot in. That didn’t happen. Because you also became voiceless and standstill but you immediately wanted to show me your hands after you read my mind. The bloody hands that used to wrap me in my defense but with strong inward desire. The hands that pulled me without deterrence. The hands that stained me.

I still can’t say anything but I knew that this was something familiar but you said it’s totally not the same this time. You asked me nothing but to trust you. But you know that trust for me is like a beautifully-knit sweater. Pull one loose thread and the entire sweater is likely to untangle, rapidly. And it’s difficult to put the threads back.

I was in disarray but a quick vivid recurrence in my mind of a past event came. The day when I had to choose between what was easy and what was right. And I was left to choose with what was right. It was hard and heavy. I had to start learning and choosing to love the sea where I could reel freely and without being rescued instead of choosing to flee in a field of weeds. I had to stop breathing the same air you breathe. It was devastating. It’s my fault. I put myself on that situation when I should have not. The air that was too shallow, enough to suffocate and desolate me. I had to step away from the same surfaces you move in. I made a choice to settle on what was right. But it’s destroying me.

I have put everything down to experience but today, your eyes are suddenly begging me to choose what is easy. That your hands will be in between mine and will no longer have to be concealed for protection but will now be free from judgments and convicting eyes. You wanted to show me that the sky is now boundless, clear and untroubled. Enough for me enjoy a freedom that is not subject to the control and domination of others. Enough for me to know that I will no longer be a seed of weed but a seed that will be sowed with hopes and wishes. I should know that you’re trying to play with me and get into my head again. I’m taken by surprise when you said you do really know me. But you don’t really know everything about me. I know myself more than you know me. You call me a teller of lies. Yes, that’s true. I can’t deny. Doors may be open and I could let someone in but my doubts and apprehensions of accepting a soul to stay with me for the rest of my life is still with me inside without fail. I have lied to myself. And I’m sorry for being dishonest to other people too. The fear is contained in me that even if I say it’s time, I guess I just love the idea of it.

My hands were like acids, ionising only slightly in solution of your enduring cold, sweaty palms. Mine was shaky, yours were steady. I am scared that you will slowly make me cling onto something that will be hard again for me to let go. But how can I be so sure that it’s not the same hands that stained me? How can I trust that these are the hands that will no longer let my feeble hands cusp and blow the dandelion I have nurtured? What are the chances that the blemishes in my hands will not be replaced with blood? I’m in big trouble. I’m crying for help from the inside. I’m drowning. Can somebody please save me? Again, I’m sorry, I lied to myself. They are all tired. Story of my life.

I guess that’s the horror of it. I’m always attracted to things that are uncertain and cloudy. And when I cry for help, no one will ever listen. I give everything I have. I am always left with nothing. I’m not complaining, I’m okay with that. No matter how I have always painted my door in white. Even if I have always covered and guarded my hands from cuts and debauches. My hands are frail but can become submissive. Or maybe my hands are also bloody but I was just trying to conceal it. But you said it’s going to be washed and cleaned by your untroubled hands this time. And you withstand any scrutiny and only want my acceptance, willing to wait, willing to go wherever I decide. That you are now bringing yourself back to an uncomplicated life. I wish all people have this frame of thinking. But what if what’s ahead of me is even more terrifying than what I have been through?

The door is open but I am standing right in front of you. My hands are feeble and my mind can easily command and control these hands to push the button. Yes, it’s just one button away to open or ultimately close my guarded door to you. Long ago, I chose what was right. And then I chose what was easy. But can I choose both now? I hope I just love the idea about you. But beyond everything, if people can’t hear me, I hope I can hear myself and save my own from someone who keeps breaking into my breathing space. Otherwise, this chaos remains. I’m not gonna find my way out of this unending maze.

God’s Time is Always Perfect

When the time is right, I the Lord will make it happen. Isaiah 60:20

It is brief but there’s so much meaning we can develop and translate in this verse. We can make our own train of thoughts or personal interpretation based on our own experiences or current circumstances. But God is telling us that His timing is never early, never late, it will always be perfect, even when our trust in it is not.

I didn’t prepare myself to write something this wee hours. As a matter of fact, never have I always planned to pen my thoughts. But as I see it, God is always and once again fueled me with wisdom and the Holy Spirit influenced me to administer the words of God through my hands. He always makes things come to pass. He knows when time is always right. And today, while I decide to calm my eyes and inner self gazing at the dark sky, doubtful yet hopeful that rain won’t fall hard again, a message remarkably made into my phone notes and found itself calling my attention through an unexpected notification. I didn’t see this coming. I didn’t even recall putting or writing the message there. God is conversing with me once again. I find this so heart-stirring and intimate. That me and God is inseparable. And I will long for more intimacy and thirst for His words even more. A short message but of great significance and high spirits. Not my time. I want God’s. But when do we know if the time is right? When do we know if God will make things happen?

While we are in a challenging time, all of us just want this to be over as soon as possible. Like a bullet out of a gun. Or we can hope that when we wake up tomorrow, everything was just an unpleasant dream. If it doesn’t happen overnight, perhaps the same point in time when I’m awakened and finally realised that I’m no longer scared and hurting. It may progress slowly but it does happen in God’s time. Things will get better but it’s not instant and it’s not a straight line. But sometimes, the last thing we would ever want to do is waiting. We lose patience and dismiss to wait in anticipation for something to happen or occur. And I have said many times how I accepted defeat and abandoned my hopes because I got tired of waiting. I was so tired of hoping and anticipating of getting an answer. Like why would I even wait when some people are too quick and easy to give up on me? I felt discouraged to deny or be denied because I had misgivings of God’s timing. For all that I didn’t get what I prayed and asked, I just rebuke that God doesn’t love or care about me. I felt like my time is never synched or coincident with God’s time. I have been hard-pressing myself of dwelling when will I get an answer or if I will even get an answer. I questioned God when will He allow me forget the past and move on with the future. If when will God stop the rain from falling so I could start running to see if that person is still waiting for me at the river crossing. I doubted God if he will allow me to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I faltered God’s plans to help me overcome my negative thoughts especially fear, anxiety, resentment, and grief. But God didn’t disappoint, He didn’t fail me. Because undoubtedly, when the time is right and we trust Him, the Lord will make it happen.

Habakkuk 2:3 “For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end—it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.” Just because something is not taking place, doesn’t mean it will never happen. If things have stopped, it doesn’t mean it’s the end. If they pushed you away, someday, somehow, someone will catch or lay hands on you. We tend to feel that our prayers and cries are not being heard by God because we are not seeing an immediate change in our relationships and existing conditions. We feel that our expectations are not being met. We set the bar high and we fail to see the efforts of others because we seek for sudden transformation and conversion. This oftentimes breaks our connection and covenant with God. We forget that we should always put our trust in Him. And not to fall back on our own intentions and on what other people say. Remember His way, His will, His time. God never turns his back or leaves us high and dry when times seem to stand still. He has not let us stay on a point of struggle or the possibility of not winning but rather God is staging us in the present so we may prepare ourselves for the upcoming season. Not a chance that God never hears what our hearts desire. Not in the slightest opportunity that God is not aware of our needs. Trust me, He always does. He knows and hears everything. I don’t know exactly how or when but there’s only one thing I am sure of, God always stays true to His Word. And I can give you a collection of never ending testimonies how God’s timing has always gone unfailing and perfect.

God is patient with us and in return we should be patient with Him and to others. It is always easy to compare ourselves to others why they are being noticed by God but not us. That God hears their cries but not ours. Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens”. God never promised that our lives on earth will be easy. He never said that our mission and journey will be unchallenging and easily done. But he reminded us that there is time and season for everything. God also teaches us to wait quietly not just to wait patiently. And oftentimes, it is even more difficult to wait quietly than to wait patiently. Even a good and loving relationship requires a degree of patience and understanding. It’s bound to not easily give up with one another. When we patiently wait for God’s promises, we will definitely get fulfilled and rewarded. When we seek Him with a quieted soul, we can hear the whispers of His goodness around us. The Lord has boldly spoken, when the time is right, I will make it happen. If you find yourself today not liking the situation you are in or where certain events in your life have taken you, I encourage you to dive into the Scriptures and let God do the talking. The only way we can trust in God’s timing is through spending more time with Him, allowing His word to shape our hearts and to bend our knees before Him.

The Rain Has Fallen

I love rain.

I even count the days until rainy season gracefully comes forth. There’s melancholy and solitude whenever I hear the rhythm of the falling rain and thunder. I have always found the rain very calming. The coldness it fulfills gives me a play of emotions and a look back when my mom used to snuggle my tiny flesh when I was little. The smell of the rain yields a connection how the grounds or dry lands has long-desired what the heavens has sent. God sends rain as part of his blessing to all people. It’s a common grace and goodness, both for the saved and the unsaved. As written in Psalm 147:8, ‘He covers the heavens with clouds; he prepares rain for the earth; he makes grass grow on the hills.’ It is God who causes to rain or not to rain. It is God who set the heavens in place, it is God who causes the mountain to grow grass. God is in control of everything. The rain is the love of sky for earth. They don’t meet face to face but sends genuine love this way. I also relish watching how a raindrop clings to a weak leaf and eventually slips downward, takes a fall because the leaf can no longer uphold the droplet. It’s like an expression of trust and courage. A strength to carry on in spite of danger. Whenever rain comes, I let the rain kiss me. I allow it to tap upon my head with silver liquid drops. It’s God-given. It makes me feel good inside.

But time and again, rain amounts to being sullen. Our lives may become cloudy and we battle with inner disturbances. There are days when we experience darkness. We become thin papers that tears and breaks after we’re soaked and washed away. And then we get stale and we deteriorate. Oftentimes, we see rain as an upcoming storm. It can be gruesome. Too much, we drown. To little, we thirst. It also represents a sense of foreboding, exemplifying human tears. In essence, it is the also the heavens that allow us to experience this, it delivers us to trials. We go through mental and emotional torment or feeling of resentment. Jeremiah 14:22 tells us, ‘Do any of the worthless idols of the nations bring rain? Do the skies themselves send down showers? No, it is you, Lord our God. Therefore our hope is in you, for you are the one who does all this.’ God sends rain but still reminds us to see his grace and set our eyes to the good even during darkness and trials. He uses trials for His glory and uses rain for us to grow.

The sterling drops of rain implies how the sky has first turned dark before a downpour of clear waters. But the rain is the only way to get dark clouds to go away. It’s a perfect manifestation that we should keep moving, to turn over a new leaf and blossom in time. It is God’s testimony that hopes are in full bloom. As the wise saying goes, April showers bring May flowers. And Leviticus 26:4 says, ‘I will send you rain in its season, and the ground will yield its crops and the trees their fruit.’ Rain is referred to as a blessing after a drought. It reminds me of the moment I asked God to help me grow. And then it started raining.

I used to love rain.

I thought I couldn’t unlove you. But it has finally come to an end after a weighty awakening and ample opportunities of waiting. The rain has washed away the thoughts inside. I will now just be, I used to love the rain. Not because I no longer long for God’s blessings but I will start living through all His favour, grace and protection. Acceptance of something undesirable but inevitable is now bending forward. I harbour prejudice with the warmth of the sun but things have changed. The sun rises everyday and this time, I promise to lay my eyes on it and accept gladly the golden rays it brings. The rain that I used to ardently await will now be reversed into something that I now despise to anticipate. I will now stop longing for the rain to come. The euphony of the rain and thunder shall now be disconnected and separated from everything I used to imagine. Rain now makes me fear the future and even brings irrational anguish. I used to look upon the rain as the bravest thing God has ever created. They aren’t afraid to fall. But nothing feels braver if you aren’t afraid of anything as God is with us always. My love and resemblance with the rain has finally come to an end. You are not brave if you’re scared of what tomorrow brings. I shall welcome and accept new trials and fighting chances because God will walk with me unfailingly. There were times when I earnestly pray and yearn for someone or something to a great degree. Days and opportunities that I say no to end. Yet again, if truth be told, things will now be different. I will finally stop building castles in the air. I used to love it. I used to cherish every amount of time until my eyes are opened, I have been unfavourably holding on to undivided purpose and missing the whole idea of what the warmth of the sun also brings.

I am not looking forward for the rain to fall again. I will chase for unfamiliar things to count on and give myself of what I genuinely deserve. The chances were amenable but they were abandoned and were given little to no attention. I guess that’s my inescapable fate. I have lost hope. Tiny raindrops didn’t fall from the sky, but it has fallen from my eyes. God keeps track of all my tears. And has collected them in His bottle, as written Psalm 56:8. But I am convinced that there are still plenty of others that it’ll fulfill happiness and euphoria when the rain is around. That’s of greater importance to me now. I will be constantly filled with gratitude for all the wonderful days you left me. In days gone by, when the rain comes I come out happily and play under. But things being what they are, I now stop and run for shade. I’m seated at this moment watching the rain that has fallen. But I’m no longer euphoric. I’m no longer burning with excitement. I’m longing for the the sun to come out and the rain to stop. I have lost the soft spot and extreme yearning for the rain to come again. The sun after the rain is much beautiful than the sun before the rain. It will now be down the memory lane. Hopes that the sun will always come out. The nicest thing about the rain is that it always stops. Eventually.

You’ve been a rainbow. Thank you for the great days and the times you made my heart and life meaningful and colourful.

2 Samuel 23:4 ‘And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun rises, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain.’

When This is Over

When this is over, I will welcome all your invites to everywhere. I will replace all those I’m too busy to I’m ready. I’ve wasted so many days that could have been better because my mind was too ambivalent and I was scared to be misunderstood. I would like to make an apology if I have made unwarranted alibis. I didn’t know I have been selectively narrowing my attention to the wrong purpose and have ignored the chances that are worthy of a lifetime and good memories. You described how golden the sunrises and sunsets were but I deliberately pretended I didn’t hear nor appreciate it. You have been so nice and bearing but I was too guarded with possibilities.

When this is over, I will stop looking for signs that only turns my way to the left. I will now let you take my hands and we will drift to roads that will make everything right. We will taste and discover the world and fill our photo galleries with best memories. I will make all your days worth remembering and start your mornings by giving you the best sight, the same way you glance at my timid eyes. Your eyes that are full of hopes and desires of unending bliss. Please allow my hands to disturb your gentle and fine face, let it swerve toward mine. I will not whisper a single word but I promise that my glimpse alone will give you the assurance that I’m going with you this time. Together we will receive God’s grace. I will give the smile that you’ve been dying to receive. I will wrap my arms around you with no signs of doubt or pretense anywhere we leap.

When this is over, I will let you know everything about me. I will openly endure every single detail of my life story. Even the ones that I’m never proud of. I will share my youth days and my silly stories that will make you compare and remember your childhood memories. I will not be ashamed to tell you my poor life decisions, my worthlessness and my imperfections. I will still let you judge me and I promise to take everything positively. You will hear my insanities and foolishness and I wouldn’t mind if you laugh about it. I will start to unveil everything without feeling uptight if I will finish my tell-all-tales. I will by all means end every stories with a sigh of relief.

When this is over, I will start changing my life and will bring so much colour and radiance to yours. I was cocooned from being insignificant and easily frightened to becoming a glorious butterfly. But in order to turn to a butterfly, I will first endure becoming a caterpillar who shall fall apart, degenerate down to its very incarnation, fades to any shape and literary dies. Like there’s nothing left to it. And from this natural essence, this butterfly gradually starts to form itself together. In order to change my life, I need to change myself and I will transform through metamorphosis. In spiritual essence, I will be born again. Born of water and spirit. Not of perishable seed but imperishable, through the living and abiding words of God. I will be buried, therefore, with him by baptism into death just as Christ was raised from the dead, by the glory of the Father. And we too will walk in newness of life. I will surrender myself to the cocoon of darkness and disintegrate until nothing’s left. For there is no resurrection unless I die. For the wages of my sin is death, but the free gift of my God is eternal existence. I will bring myself back to life then I will find you. I will go and will fly freely this time with you.

When this is over, I hope you’re still there to embrace me, willing to accept me. We shall wander like days will never be over. I will now go wherever your heart prays. I promise, to you, I surrender.

Dandelion Through Pavements

It must be madness. The way she’s letting things devour her. The way she let things out, came in. And the horror of it, she was attracted to things that no matter how she draw and find transparency, it is never righteous and remains cloudy. She clings to it and soon makes hard for her to get unchained. That no matter how she paints her walls in white, will always appear grey.

Perhaps she’s too reserved in laying herself down in the elysian fields and desires to keep the affliction close. Close enough to tear her down. Close enough to define her and close enough to maker her feel a little less cold. Or maybe she’s too silent and scared that someone is almost scaling the wall she’s built around her. But maybe somewhere along the way she’s ready to face a beautiful chaos. Go let it burn, let her dive into the horror story because maybe it’s the chaos that will let her find where she belong.

And her mind wanders, thinking about something that happened just like 5 years ago or something that happened 24 hours ago or something that may happen 10 years from now. Her mind is like hurricane, distracted. Maybe full of beautiful yet wicked thoughts. It’s 1AM and her mind continues to wander that the hands that wrapped and held her body were bloody. Now she can’t tell if she will bleed or get stained. 

Did she ever tell you to wipe your hands after you shut the door?

It’s finally the time where she has to choose between what is easy and what is right. She’s trying and learning to love the sea from a field of weeds. A sea just where she could flee liberately, innocent and lily-white dandelion. Embracing the sharp salty smell of the air, and the vastness of the horizons bounded only by a vault of clear and untroubled sky. Enough to make her feel little but free. Enough to make her realise that she’s not a seed of weed but sowed for wishes. Tell her she should stop breathing the same air and she’s got to deal with it. Otherwise, time will come the air will get shallow and she has nothing but to stumble and fall on the vine.

Woman, listen. There’s just something I want to tell you. You are beautiful. Remain fragile and bloomy. You are distinctive and precious. Keep your petals radiant and fragrant. There will always be temporary things that are heart-stopping and these will only make you wonder why happiness never last. So cusp them in your hands and let this story end. The winds shall blow it all away.