I've Got Heaven On the Inside of Me
Just a 3-4 days prior to leaving the UK, In Oxford I'd asked Him if I might worship Him amongst the stars... For I remembered at 11 years old I stood upon a hill somewhere on the Mongolian border, amongst the tall grasses, looking at stars that were as large and warm as lightbulbs in the prussian blue sky. Then my heart had been rapt with sheer wonder and delight at the smallness of me, and the greatness of Him. "Only God can make stars like that!", I thought. And I worshipped. In the UK I wanted to experience Him like that again... I had just taken a long-desired walk in the hills the day before, and I was dreaming still of the wonder of creation. I wanted again to be with Him--His hand in the hills, His fingerprints on the petals of every daisy, in the magic of dim starlight.
"Where's Dad?" asks my heart.
Coming back to the previous entry, about the desire to worship Him in the splendor of creation even in the deep of night, in prayer just now one was reminded of my time aloft in the air, on the overnight flight back to Singapore from the UK.
And there, on the plane, it happened.
In the cavernous night He held my hand, and we stood on a vast floor of pale cloud, visible only by starlight. It really felt more like one was floating for there was nothing solid that one's feet touched. But it was so much like entering a great hall, that one can barely refrain from calling this a floor. All tension and unease were underfoot-- lightning flashed and lit up the cloudy floor with intermittent moments of white hot pinks, blues, silvers and golds. And yet, above us was a boundless ceiling of the velvet dark, over which hung a great peace which silenced the stirrings beneath. Stars suspended from this great ceiling as though by invisible threads, glowing in all their fervour for His glory, each pristine, warm and white. I had never seen stars this large, this close, this beautiful. And what a different perspective! The constellations posessed a depth in 3d that is absent from the 2d ground observations. All troubles were made inconsequential and remote. All was full of His love and glory.
Lost in wonder at His incredible nearness, and then at the sheer beauty of His creation, I fellowshipped with, and worshipped Him with all my heart--it overflowed with the deepest joy and adoration. Oh I heard music such as I could never write! Up there my Father took his little daughter to laugh and dance in His arms, and she felt, for the first time in her life, safe. Up here it was just me and Him, nothing could touch me, or interrupt the fellowship with Him... The concerns of the world were so far flung it were as though they never existed. For here was the desire of my heart, to meet Him and have Him, above all.
How could I know, He gave me so much more than I ever asked! I never thought I'd meet Him amongst the stars literally. Then, on the plane I understood better, for came to know in experiential terms--All that beauty is still but a poor shadow of His gentle fullness, glory and splendor. For I have met my Father. Heaven lives in my heart. I'll never have to go anywhere else to meet Him again.
I never want to forget that moment. Closest to His heart and to His love, my Father, I long to be with you like this again.
The memory of Him and His nearness, is what drew bitter tears at Anatolia's... I miss God.
I do.
When Jarett asked me why the tears, I explained.
God reminded me, just before the plane announced its descent, that the plane would sink beneath the clouds soon, and as it did, all the things of the world would creep back upon my life and cloud the vision of my heart. I was to hold on to this moment with Him forever, for I must cling to knowing He loves me--He said times ahead would challenge that. Then I had been still too rapt in wonder at Him, to care very much about anything else, although I remember these words well. Then my determination was to bring the entire month-long experience home with me, and retain that ability to see His beauty in everything and worship Him. Home does not present His beauty and love so immediately to me, unless I choose to remove myself and meet Him where heaven is in my heart.
Talking and praying with Meiyi last night till 2.30am reminded me of this again. I must blog it. I must not forget. For we were talking about the recent lie that He does not care. I thought of the Father in whose hands I was so lovingly, fearfully, and wonderfully made. He had so much joy in making me. And yet now one feels as though the very hands that molded me have turned to destroy me. For there is no other explanation if He is ultimately in control, and will not lift me up.
Three days ago, I struggled to reconcile what happens now to that moment in the clouds. Does this contradict His nature at all?
On Wednesday night, I read Job.
It comforts me that Job, innocent, and greater than I, has walked the same road.
For in prayer I cried out the following:
I have no peace, no quietness
I have no rest, but only turmoil
The arrows of the Almighty are in me,
my spirit drinks in their poison;
God's terrors are marshaled against me.
Oh, that I might have my request, that God would grant what I hope for,
That God would be willing to crush me, to let loose His hand and cut me off!
Then I would still have this consolation-- my joy in unrelenting pain--
that I had not denied the words of the Holy One
What strength do I have, that I should still hope?
My friends,
Teach me and I will be quiet, show me where I have been wrong.
How painful are honest words! But what do your arguments prove?
Do you mean to correct what I say,
and treat the words of a despairing man as wind?
Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath
When I think my bed will comfort me and my couch will ease my complaint
even then You frighten me with dreams
and terrify me with visions
so that I prefer strangling and death
than this body of mine
What is man that You make so much of him,
that You give him so much attention,
that You examine him every morning,
and test him every moment?
Will You never look away from me
or let me alone, even for an instant?
If I have sinned, what have I done to You,
O watcher of men?
Why have You made me your target?
Have I become a burden to You?
Why do You not pardon my offenses
and forgive my sins?
For I will soon lie down in the dust
you will search for me,
but I will be no more
But who am I to complain? How can a mortal be righteous before God?
Though one wished to dispute with Him,
he could not answer Him one time out of a thousand.
His wisdom is profound, His power is vast.
If He snatches away, who can stop Him?
Who can say to Him, "what are you doing?"
Though I were innocent, I could not answer Him
I could only plead with my Judge for mercy
If it is a matter of strength He is mighty!
And if it is a matter of justice, who will summon Him?
If only there were someone to arbitrate between us,
to lay his hand upon us both
someone to remove God's rod from me
so that his terror would frighten me no more
Then I would speak up without fear of him
but as it now stands with me,
I cannot.
Your hands shaped me and made me.
Will You now turn and destroy me?
Remember that You molded me like clay.
Will you now turn me to dust again?
It comforts me that He has given me, in that ever-dimming memory, and through his written word, all I need to hang on. Christ died for me. There is His love. There is my hope. I don't understand what my trials now are all about, but let it be as He pleases, and let it cost me as much as He wants. I am all His.
Dear Mei, your tears and prayer ministered to me. They helped me to know His heart is not as cold as others around me sometimes reflect it to be. He still sheds great tears in His heart, and is not apathetic to my cause. Thank you dear sister.
Dear Simone, thanks for your smses. =)
It is a blessed thing, to have friendships built on Him.
| e.s.t.h.e.r in the arms of Jesus @
8/20/2005 12:21:00 am |
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