Because N came to my baptism and he was the only friend I had invited and also because my only baptism gift was also given by him, and because of the many things that are good in my life, I realized that I had let the friendship took a backseat. So I decided to have lunch with him more often, whether he liked it or not. So I decided to show more gratitude towards a person who has helped to toughen the inner fabric of my faith, increasing its threat count.
Because N gave thanks during lunch and asked God to help me discover the significance of my baptism, my mind was tuned lately to finding the meaning of that sprinkling of the water on Sunday, which I could still feel trickling down at the back of my neck.
Because all that in my life are all part of His grand plan and nothing is coincidental, what happened today, my chat with my colleague, or my meeting of some long-lost acquaintances are also part of His plan.
Today, I helped another colleague to do a story, which she was trying to file from the press event. She was grateful and came over to thank me.
``I thought I saw a bible lying on your table,’’ she said.
``Yes. I took it out to give space to my tape recorder which I took to a pressie this morning.’’ I said.
``I used to a strong Christian…..’’ She was a chatty girl. She went on to tell me about her faith, how she came to believe, married someone who was a non-believer and who came to share the same faith, and how she left her church because her group was telling her how selfish she was not to give up her job to have kids.
``We have not been attending church for a long while. We sleep until 2 pm every weekend.’’
``Why don’t you and your husband come to the Good Friday service at my church? It would be good to worship Him again. Don’t you miss worshiping him?’’
Her eyes lit up. ``ok, I will ask my husband. But he sure won’t come. I will let you know.’’
She left. I looked at the bible lying on the table. It was only yesterday that I put it in my bag after a bible class. I packed my dinner and was trying to get to my car when I noticed a familiar figure walking past me.
I called out his name. He turned. The other person walking beside him turned as well. I knew them both.
``hey, wow, what a pleasant surprise! When did you come back?’’ I knew them from my Chicago days.
We smiled at each other, obviously very pleased to meet again. It was very strange that I felt a sense of kinship with two persons whom I hardly knew, whom I met only a few times in Chicago.
``You know, you left your cooking pot in my car and I didn’t returned it to you. I sold my car and gave your pot to the new car owner,’’ one of them said.
``Oh yes, that pot. It was not mine. How could you give that away,’’ I cried out.
They asked if I would join them for a drink. I hesitated. Those Chicago days, where alcohol was the best social lubricant, the best antidote to the feeling of transcience where nothing was permanent.
I said yes, giving my past as a student a chance to play out in this current space where the central theme of my life has changed. I wanted to know whether I would feel different. I wanted to know whether opening that collection of memories would be a good experience. When my companions looked equally keen on taking the memory lane with me, my stomach did a little somersault. Good memories, I was hoping.
One of guys offered to guide me to my car.
``I backslided so much,’’ he said with a little sadness, while walking me to my car.
``So, do you want to go back,’’ I asked.
``yes, yes. I want to come back to Singapore and find a job and settled down here,’’ he replied.
``I mean go back to God.’’
``Oh that. Yes, maybe.’’
Then, N’s prayer came to mind. I wondered whether my freshly baptized self will one day stray off to a great distance, like him and like her. I wondered whether I would reach a stage where I would hung my head in despondence that I couldn’t be reconciled with Him. I wondered whether I would abandon Him one day, whether I would one day be aching and breaking from the trials placed in my life to help break my rebellious spirit and still wouldn’t budge. I wondered whether I would one day face those days again.
The significance of my baptism. I am thoughtful.
And here’s my baptism testimony.
So, It Begins
It is hard to begin the story of my coming of faith. I don’t know where it should start.
It could begin when I first said the sinner’s prayer, which I had uttered
sincerely after a friend before the school bell rang to call us to our afternoon class. However, I walked away, unfazed by His sovereignty.
It could also begin when I started fervently attending every sermon, every bible study, every prayer session because I was fearful that if left to my own device, my life would not be blessed with earthly riches. The outer crust was one of a faithful servant, but deviously masked a deceitful ploy of using God as a genie to serve my grand plan of building an empire, where I would be made king.
Or I should begin the story on that day when I was brought to my knees, with nothing but a contrite heart , after a shocked realization that my sins had been chipping away at the inhabitability of my dwelling place, making it unfit for living, making it bereft of hope and joy. My world looked defaced, like an army of locusts had razed it to ground.
So, I uttered again the sinner’s prayer and said: Do what you will with me.
He began restoring my life that I had patched together with broken things, of mine and of others.
So, I could begin, with Joel 2:25 etched in the depth of my soul, which is, now in His safe hands.
