Like the usual nights, she was alone again. Her small room was the only place that she can consider her refuge after the demands of the day. She looked at her frail wristwatch and it was past 2 o’clock in the morning already. She thought, another dawn is about to come and to endure it seems a vanity. She’s tired and worn-out from the journey. She also thought, to continue this pilgrimage seems irrational. But to whom will she now? She has abandoned her former life behind few years back to follow the Chief Shepherd. And she couldn’t bear the thought of retracing back her steps towards it.
She held in her lap the Great Book and tried to seek wisdom from it. But she couldn’t focus. Her soul is restless and she didn’t know why. Then, she found herself staring at her old, worn-out notebook. She took her almost ink-empty pen and scribbled the following outcry:
Where are You Oh Lord?
Why do you remain silent?
Don’t You care if I drown?
Don’t You care if I fall?
The anguish she felt was indescribable. The pain she experienced was incomprehensible. The turbulent storms engulfed her with fear. What was stored for me in the future? Where would this journey take me? The arrows that were flying from every corner shattered her soul. We are experiencing scarcity in our ministry, will this last? Am I doing the will of the One who sent me here? Then she found herself scribbled another lamentation:
Can’t You see, I’m already wounded?
Can’t You see that my strength is almost gone?
Then tears stung her eyes. She felt deceived…deceived by the One whom she entrusted her heart. The Lord vowed to take her to the Promised Land, but where is she now? She was wandering in the wilderness and instead of beauty, she only sought and witness pain and suffering. The Lord ignited the fire and compassion in her heart that consume her whole being. But could a heart bear much? It seems that she can’t endure anymore…
So, she cried. She let the tears flow from her cheeks.
Just before the dawn breaks, she remembered a promise from the Great Book: “Those who sow in tears shall reap songs of joy” (Psalm 126:5). Suddenly, peace flooded her being. The anguish was replaced by joy. The confusion was replaced by serenity. The I found her scribbled this song:
The story of my life is never about me…right Lord?
It is all about YOU.
So, even if I don’t understand…
I yield completely to You.
Ruin me now.
Bind me in the altar like Isaac,
And purge me.
For our Love to be unhindered,
If this is the only way,
Do as You please.
To Golgotha, Abba.
Take me now.
Then she rose from her knees and faced the breaking dawn with rejuvenated spirit and refreshed strength. And as I examined closely her worn-out diary, I found this entry at the lower right corner of the page:
August 17, 1948
“Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16 KJV)
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