Gomer

THE GREATEST PLOT TWIST

I'm a story guy, and I find myself frequently thinking in terms of story.

I'm the villain. I'm the idolater, the blasphemer, the rebel, the murderer, the adulterer, the thief, the liar.

I deserve to die, and every day I prove it. I am the most hard-necked of antagonists, the most deceptive, the most bloodthirsty, the most perverted, the most greedy. My punishment would be glorious. To vanquish such evil would give great glory to the righteous for finally putting an end to it.

The most incredible thing happens. The villain receives an unconditional pardon, and is given the power to reverse his downward spiral.

Stunning is the imagery of the hero embracing the crook he's faced against. It is difficult to describe.

The crook will discover something in himself he never had: self-hate. He will become his own enemy.

Once he only lived by one rule, which was to serve his evil desires. Now he will fight himself, beat himself into submission, to serve the one who adopted him. He will fail. His old ways will resurface, and we will catch glimpses of that old crook who really should be stamped out.

But the hero will not give up on him. He will patiently teach him, grieve over him, comfort him.

Like Hosea loved Gomer. It was a strange love. It was unfitting. But after the shock from the plot twist dies down, you realize that it's the way it was meant to be. Surely the extent of His love will have a manifestation beyond our expectations.

What the hell, Josh. What more do you want?

What more can you want?

Worship

LIVING FOR SUNDAYS

I feel like a piece of junk.

I was severely sick on Monday, and for some reason the recovery process took the entire week. My muscles, especially my leg muscles, were aching until today. I was so exhausted, my writing looked like a kindergartener's because I couldn't hold the pen firmly enough. And I just kept sleeping.

The entire week gone by in my dreams. I was just so tired.

I really had a lot of dreams. I couldn't remember any of them.

I realize I had left something out in the way I tried to schedule my life. I did not set the Sabbath apart as the day of the week. I did not root my entire life in Sunday worship. And just recently, I realized that I should. And I realized that it would be such a blessing.

Sunday is turning out to be the best day of the week now. Truly, when all you have to do is hear God's Word and praise His works, what more can you want? It's rest!

I recognize that this may also become a boost to my stamina. When I have a goal like this to work for, I can work harder and more efficiently. With Sunday in view, the other six days would be fruitful. I wouldn't be as lazy as I now am.

Tomorrow is Sunday. Thank God for His grace.

Home Together

TO BE WHOLE

To be firm, to be mature, to be Yours.

Yes, my issue is with people. I've been attempting to drop the facade before my brothers and sisters in Christ, and I have been making progress. But when it comes to them, I have to play that role once again. I have to pretend. I have to set loose my old self to embrace them.

People. People, people, people.

Who am I? Who do I think I am?

I'm done. I'm finished. I've run out.

Here I surrender, and confess that I show disrespect toward God in that I scorn men, and cannot see His image imprinted on them. I just don't see it. Or perhaps it's simply that I don't believe it.

I'm too proud to be understanding, too proud to make myself vulnerable, too proud to think myself ordinary. Perhaps that's why the stage has such a powerful pull upon me; I think I'm extraordinary. Can't help it.

Because of my pride I also scorn the humble. Shamefully I admit, I realize I haven't recognized, in some deep, dark portions of my heart, that the Holy Spirit is God indeed. The work of the Holy Spirit is humble and invisible. It is gentle and comforting. He does not mean to cause me pain, but seeks to bring me joy, and grieves in my stead. He teaches me lessons that ensure I understand. In the lineup of the economic Trinity, He appears to be the manifestation of the quiet and vulnerable. And perhaps because of my twisted view of how a God should be, probably based upon my view of myself, I think I silently disagreed that this was essential to divine nature, and neglected the obedient work of the Spirit.

This is probably one of the root causes of why I'm unable to be gentle, unable to quit being a porcupine personality, always putting people down. It's amazing that I don't even have to speak to establish my superiority. My pride is so pervasive that it shows through my eyes. I hate that. I hate my old self. I wish he would just go away.

I pray it would go away. And I know it would. God help me get through this. I'm in pain.

Where is home? Does home matter to me? How can I learn to cherish those whom God put in the same home with me?

Or shall I seek a way to slip into an ivory tower, alone, for eternity?

By the power of the Holy Spirit, no!

Eternal Brotherhood

LET US THROW OFF EVERYTHING THAT HINDERS

[On the way to Mount Doom, Frodo collapses from exhaustion from carrying the Ring] 

Samwise Gamgee: Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo?
It'll be spring soon, and the orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they'll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields. And they'll be eating the first of the strawberries with cream.
Do you remember the taste of strawberries? 

Frodo Baggins: No, Sam. I can't recall the taste of food, nor the sound of water, nor the touch of grass.
Instead, I'm... naked in the dark. There's nothing. No veil between me and the wheel of fire! 

I can see him... with my waking eyes! 

Samwise Gamgee: Then let us be rid of it! Once and for all!
Come on, Mr. Frodo. I can't carry it for you... but I can carry you!

Turbulence; Impulse

A TURBULENT SHIFT

To be honest, I did not expect our move to another church to cause such a reaction.

For matters of conscience, I cannot discuss in detail our reasons for leaving. This blog is too public for that.

Thus, there probably isn't much to write. I simply want to make a record of how the experience was.

I was completely alright and happy about going to a worship that my conscience does not cry out against, until I slowly realized how much of an impact our departure made. Is it their faithlessness? Is it concern for our apparent lack of faithfulness? I'm unsure how our God-given conviction to use our ammunition elsewhere is so controversial. We are but four people, and I don't see this as a political struggle, which is, I'm afraid, how some people see it without saying so.

Of course, this is a matter that is appropriately something for debate, but my simple conviction, like my father, is that God will take care of His sheep, no matter what. Nobody should doubt that, ever.

It is very flesh-killing to be on the receiving end of hostility. There is some sense of being labelled as traitors, or cowards who abandon ship. Not that it really bothers me, but it really is awkward during confrontations in public settings where you know you can't explain thoroughly, for the sake of some people who are unprepared to hear it.

The most interesting part about this transition, however, is seeing my father's change. It was only today that I realized how much our previous worship services bugged him. It was crippling his life. I was unknowingly being crippled, too.

I was a bit frantic in the midst of all the questions and skepticism, but my father had such a great sense of certainty and calm. There is also something mildly joyful about him for the past two weeks. It seems that having a freed conscience allows him to do more than I've ever seen him do, and speak with more passion and conviction and peace. He just looks much less troubled, much more relaxed. And that's quite something, considering how this new year seems to be fairly eventful.

Or maybe it's just me. It really is quite eventful for me.

This is seriously one of the happiest hymns to sing:

Thanks to God for my Redeemer,

Thanks for all Thou dost provide!

Thanks for times now but a mem’ry, 

Thanks for Jesus by my side!

Thanks for pleasant, balmy springtime,

Thanks for dark and stormy fall!

Thanks for tears by now forgotten,

Thanks for peace within my soul!

 

Thanks for prayers that Thou hast answered,

Thanks for what Thou dost deny!

Thanks for storms that I have weathered,

Thanks for all Thou dost supply!

Thanks for pain, and thanks for pleasure,

Thanks for comfort in despair!

Thanks for grace that none can measure,

Thanks for love beyond compare!

 

Thanks for roses by the wayside,

Thanks for thorns their stems contain!

Thanks for home and thanks for fireside,

Thanks for hope, that sweet refrain!

Thanks for joy and thanks for sorrow,

Thanks for heav’nly peace with Thee!

Thanks for hope in the tomorrow,

Thanks through all eternity!

* * * * *

TRYING TO PUT AWAY BOYISH DECISION-MAKING

In a fairly recent interview of John Piper, the interviewer asked him something like (paraphrased): "What fruit of the Spirit does this generation most lack?"

What kind of question is that? was my immediate, bewildered response. But John didn't seem to be taken aback by the question whatsoever, and suggested that we seem to lack most in the fruit of self-control.

No, this is not to say that the fruits of the Spirit are separate from one another, and I'm sure that neither the interviewer nor pastor Piper is trying to suggest that. It is simply to say that the fruit of self-control is probably the least treasured and most neglected in an age of rampant rebellion.

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and gentleness should all sound alright to the people of today. Self-control sounds like a killjoy.

I realized how little self-control I have. To be clear, in the Bible the word is translated from the Greek word egkrateia, which refers to dominion, or control, proceeding out from within oneself, but not by oneself. Thus, what I'm really referring to is an obedience to the dominion of Christ through the Spirit in me.

Thanks be to God for gradually allowing me to see my own regular decision-making process. Truly, a great deal of the time, I put my trust in my impulses, my intuition. It is a self-confidence so deeply embedded that I could not notice it until God started getting my attention through some people I respect.

The "I do what I want, now" mentality is almost unchallenged in me. It is not so obvious to the people around me because it is so deceptive, I am so deceptive, that I have developed a system based on it that allows for me to seem godly. Of course, God Himself and godly people are not fooled.

The consequence of this is that I cannot settle down like a man should. I'm still driven by my impulses and emotions, trying to make some radical decisions that I hope would change everything, fix everything. It's the typical teenage me-against-the-world heroic mindset. I still very naturally think about things I want to think about. And that causes me to very naturally do things I want to do. And ridiculously I wonder why on earth I do or say some things that I shouldn't.

I am trying to be sober-minded. I must learn to do things I don't feel like doing (I know, I know, not that I'm going to purposefully do everything I don't feel like doing for the sake of doing so). Truth and facts and an organized system of thought are far too valuable to exchange for a speedy, exciting in-the-moment type of thought life, which I believe I currently have.

I'm glad, though, because I know that God is prodding me in that direction. And I'm getting there. I'm ready to say goodbye to the sinful impulses of youth.

It only takes a boy to do what he wants to do, but a man to do what he needs to do.

Kick-starting 2014

ADAPTING TO CHANGES

I'm not going to systematically organize this post into topics. I realize I haven't simply spouted my feelings for a while.

Back to school. I'm very anxious to get my remaining few books done so that I can really get on with other things, like completing the theology course homework before the deadline.

I also know that my teenage years are ending. This is really, really sobering, because I understand even more now how much time I have wasted that I could've used to grow into a real man.

For some reason, it seems harder to tell people my age when I'm 18 compared to when I'm 17. Somehow I thought that by the time I'm 18, I should be a man. I don't feel like a man. I still feel like a boy. I'm still in my T-shirt and short pants. I still lack much common sense and independence. I still struggle with insecurity before other people. I still cannot walk steadily and firmly before God.

And yet the time has come; I'm too big for the nest, and it's time for me to carefully drop over the edge, whether I feel ready or not.

I'd really like to get married. I find it one of the good things that God has given to us in this vapor of a lifetime. And I do take 1 Corinthians 7:9 to heart, because apparently I also "burn with passion". But as I draw closer to the realities of adulthood, I find that complexities lie ahead.

Marrying someone means you have to take care of her. I have no idea how much financial stability working in film will provide. In the event of a financial crisis, we might be among the first to go down, because nobody will want to pay to watch films then. Godly women are rare. I think women who'd willingly put up with a filmmaker are also rare. And then of course there's the fact that I can hardly take care of myself, not to mention anybody else.

Sure, it's not something I should worry about. Maybe I don't get to start a family in my life; that should be okay with me. I should examine my contentedness in Christ.

And then I'm having second-thoughts about making films... again. It's not about the financial aspect, I always knew that to work as an artist is to take a huge risk. But it seems that after the camp, I have developed such a burden for the church, for my brothers and sisters to know and grow in Christ, that I really just feel like spending all my time on them. Thus, there are moments of "Has God put in my a heart of pastoral care?".

I think about whether I should just simply get a stable job that would not take up too much of my time, and just pour my life into the church. But then I remember why I want to make films in the first place, and I'm a little caught between the two passions. Because honestly, I wouldn't want to encourage the saints to watch movies more than I'd want to discourage them from doing so, especially in this time and age. But then I don't really know what I want to do other than film or write. Never explored other possibilities, except for chemistry.

My family and I moved to a new church, City Discipleship Presbyterian Church, if I remember the name correctly. It was a nice temporary compromise, since we could go to the worship service at CDPC and go back to KPC for Sunday school and Agape fellowship, while we sought replacements. Now apparently, someone is finally going to take over my father's class.

I feel a bit torn, really. On one hand, it's only natural that if you start worshiping at a certain church, you start to serve in that same congregation. But on the other hand, I suddenly realized how much I would miss my brothers and sisters in KPC. I mean the true ones.

I was 16 years old, it was December, we were going to stay overnight at teacher Mei Fang's house, and I confessed to everyone how alone I felt in the faith. I remember the one or two years before that night. A culture of repentance and godliness was virtually nonexistent. Sure, at that point, there was Stephen and Francis, and Simon was just around the corner, but we were significantly weaker, and each fellowship was somewhat quite draining, because I would really want to get the people in battle mood, and would fail more frequently than not.

And then, slowly, the miraculous happened right under my nose. While I was struggling with my insecurities and oh-what-a-bad-leader-I-am, God was working. Now we have a small group of troops. These weak, sinful people who are nevertheless called by God's Spirit and are repeatedly broken before Him.

Now I am faced with the possibility of being quite distanced from them.

I don't know, but realizing that amongst the fleeting crowds of the "international zone", there are some who were somehow always there with me, makes me like them a lot. It makes me put hope in the future. I always liked to imagine that even after ten years down the road, we'd still be this strong group of Christians, united in heart, serving the church.

I know that this isn't the end, I don't buy that absurdity. But maybe the idea of starting over again doesn't appeal to me so much. Perhaps it's because I realize that I have no power whatsoever to start anything that worries me. It was always God, and I should trust Him.

I'm slightly disappointed by my own sharing, at both Renewed and Agape. Recently I keep sharing about the hope of eternal life I've learned about that empowers me. But not only do they not seem to feel the glory and hopefulness of it all, they seem a little discouraged that they can't, which is missing the point again. I feel responsible for my laziness in the past week, because I could've prepared much better. But then also I cannot seem to remember how it was for me when I also could not come to believe deeply in the goodness of eternity in heaven, so it was difficult to respond to that mindset which I've lost much of.

Now that I realize they live without such goodness empowering them, I feel a weighty burden. Because I remember what it was like, and I hate that anybody else has to live in that chaos, especially my brothers and sisters. I wanted to help. I prayed. I found it hard to sleep just now.

I wrote this post, in which you will see the weaknesses in my regular thoughts.

May God light my path.