Arise, Issachar! – conclusion of camp


It’s been nearly 2 years since I last posted. Starting a blog requires impulse. Maintaining it, on the other hand, requires a fair bit of discipline.

As with God’s usual pattern of practice, He chose both the scheduled moments and the unscheduled ones for downloads of truth. The sessions I did manage to sit in for before the flu hit were definitely impactful, but equally divine were the two unplanned breakfast meetings that resulted from late risings (as mentioned, due to said flu).

I have but one thought to put into words for this entry.

When God gives us a message, He often has to first work with us, the messenger. As my second breakfast companion very aptly pointed out, until we are fully dead, we end up getting in the way of the message. Our hearers detect Jesus plus whatever bits of self lingering in us. The messenger corrupts the message. Hence, years on since the fire started burning deep within, the same phrase is replayed,

“Back to the drawing room.”

The message is still in the making; God exacts His fine-tuning. The messenger? Far from ready, there is more silt to pick off, more chaff to be blown off.

And so, I abide and wait.

The self in me, refusing its death, strains and struggles against the gentle but firm Hand holding it in place. First, it has to die. Only then will the straining cease, the struggle end, the peace settle, the state of rest entered, and the fullness of joy come forth.

And that’s the state I want to be living in.

This thought comes as an answer to earlier questions regarding my academic pursuits. Was it for a season, or was it for life? Maybe I’d been lulled into entertaining the idea that it was for a season because something in me wanted more, didn’t want to settle, wanted to go back to what is safe, recognized, secure. Having tasted the higher, better way of faith, I started entertaining worldly persuasion. Manna wasn’t enough; I needed the leeks, the onions and the abundant supply of Egyptian savouries.

Yes, that is the abominable nature of our faithlessness, but God, thankfully, operates on a much higher plane than we do.

Abba, have mercy on us.

As I am learning, the self takes multiple deaths, as do our learning take multiple lessons. But that’s okay, because God is fully aware, and has the whole timeline stretched out in His palms.

Wait, wait, wait. Wait for God. His timing is perfect.


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