Safe In A Crazy World

Its funny how clichéd it sounds when I speak again of how God seems to keep me safe in this crazy world. Yes, not sane in a crazy world, but safe in a world that seems to have driven itself mad. I was just musing to myself that this whole world seems to be moving on so fast that I can’t catch up. Everyone’s all moving on with their lives, getting married and getting their careers slowly settled in order… they’re all slowly entering the adult phase of their lives, saving up as they work. And the fear inevitably arises, that I’ll be forgotten in the wake of the distance that has come between me and the world, and all those whom I hold dear to my heart.

I always fancied myself as a man with a small heart. One with little faith in others, and even less in myself. And along with that comes the inevitable barrage of questions that I ask in the silences of my mind, about how important those around me are to me, and how important I will be to them. How do I actually view them in all those times when they aren’t aware of my take on them, and how they likewise view me apart from the times they let me know. Then I after answering those questions myself, I question if I was right in my judgment, and if I was being either incredibly naive or unbelievably cynical. And each time I find myself in a position to love someone and be genuine, these questions surfaces to haunt me, and stop me from opening up more than I really should. And since these questions don’t really ever come to an end, my subtle paranoia never ceases. In short, as I question others, and question myself for questioning others, I lock myself into this senselessly mind-numbing experience that paralyses me from being able to function normally. I therefore spend almost equal amounts of time trying to give as much as I can to all those around me, as well as totally withdrawing from everyone back into my own shell.

Enter God, into the equation. I don’t become any more sane. I still question, I still worry, and I’m pretty sure I’m still as paranoid as ever. But somehow there’s a part of me that dares to every now and then venture to open up with reckless abandon, within that small window of grace, where I somehow feel the safety and security in something bigger than me, to reach outside of me and connect with someone. Somehow as the song goes, as long as there was someone out there who understood me, and embraced my fragilty, I could feel safe, and rest in the comfort of that knowledge.

So as Sarah Mclachlan sung, its time to stop weeping for the memories. I used to love the song for its second stanza, yet strangely revisiting this song tonight, the chorus jumps out at me, to learn to leave and let go of the past. And I really do cling an awful lot to the past. To all those whom I’ve once shared bits and pieces of my heart and my life with, who has now seemingly faded out of my life. Now when we meet up, it seems that all we do is reminisce, and don’t really make any effort to catch up anymore. I think back to the days of my fellowship and cell group, and the original gang that did so much together - and after a while, my social circle in church runs the risk of being made up of absent friends more than the ones present who really deserve more from me. In ministry I keep looking back to the times when the Lord was gracious in blessing the things we did, and the church seemed to be on fire for God - now that there remains the need for us to be faithful stewards who persevere at what we do, I catch myself living in the past, on the excuse of trying to draw strength from the times when God’s been good to us, forgetting that God is still as good to us as He was then. In love, I find myself questioning if any girl would ever love me like Grace did, and if things would ever work out. For two years, my search was for a replacement. Mebbe that’s why I never did find anyone - even now I'm still reminding myself whenever I feel the urge to start a r/s, that it must not be an exercise in seeking back that which I lost, but the discovery of something brand new.

Then of course, there are those people whom I’ve even given up trying to reminisce with, or bother to remember, despite us having once been so close. My JC class is slowly becoming like that. And even as I mourn the loss of some very dear friends whom I once held so very close to my heart, part of me is acknowledging that its time to move on. That even as there’s no need to cut off contact, there also needs to be the decision to recognize the end of a segment of my life. “Don’t let your life pass you by, weep not for the memories”

Lastly, there are those whom I feel I’ve gradually lost touch with, that I’ve always been reluctant to do so. Like some of those in Crusade, whom I valued very much. Yet graduation, work and ministry inevitably takes its toll on a friendship that has lost much of its context and reason for meeting up. The rest just depends on pure effort, which very easily gets brushed aside in the light of busy schedules and all.

And as life around me seems to be getting crazier everyday, and its harder and harder to make any sor of sense of all that goes on around me, I find myself going back again to one thing I realized about myself – the answer for me isn’t to have a solution to this world I live in, an answer for all the ironies and all the cruelties that this life extracts from me. Making sense of it won’t make any difference. Feeling safe in spite of it all would. And that’s what God has somehow done for me. Somehow, in these two weeks, one of the busiest that I’ve ever experienced, He's done that for me.

Somehow, He found the time to subtly let me know He’s around, so that even though I missed it when he told me, I felt His presence after that for the rest of the week.



P.S., Man Utd ended Chelsea's 40-match unbeaten streak last night with a 1-0 win at Old Trafford, posting for themselves their first win in 13 games. I guess not only did He make sure I felt His presence this week, but He made sure to let me know He's a Man Utd fan. Grins.