Kuala Lumpur April 2017 “It wasn't for you”
01/04/17 03:41
Have you ever heard the voice of God? If I can say I have then it sounded like I was talking to myself! The first time that happened to me is worth recounting. At Kingdomcity we run a lot of equipping courses to teach new christians or believers how they should behave and act. One of these courses is called “Freedom Encounter” or when I first attended it was “Freedom Day”. This one day course was for people to break the destructive beliefs, addictions or habits that existed n their lives and was one of the first I went to. Ps Mervin Jayaseela was the principal speaker at this in my time and he would lead attendees to face up to their shortcomings and get them to ask Jesus for forgiveness and freedom them from, hence the course name.
The first time I went to this day it felt great. Not that I had many things I needed to free myself from but then confirming that was the case is beneficial. The second time was less so. I learnt nothing new but, hey, it's only a Saturday, what else would I do and whilst I am here I can chat to a few friends. The third time? Well you're having a laugh at my expense aren't you and by now I was fed up with this. Just how many times do I have to say I have no sexual, idol or drug addictions in my life? Yani was going as she had volunteered to serve but I wasn't so I hatched a plan. I would drive her to the Luther Center early as she had the pre-course meeting to attend and then I would drive back home and return a few hours later. In my mind that sounded like a good plan. After all, my absence wouldn't be spotted amongst an audience of 500 would it? Unfortunately I had overlooked our unwritten rule that car passenger looks after the car parking ticket and as the driver there was no easy way I could get her to hand that over without revealing my plans. No matter, I quickly came up with another way to avoid attendance, I would walk home, spend an hour recovering and then walk back! Wow, so simple, what could go wrong?
The distance from home to church is 10km (6.2 miles) and takes 20 minutes to drive. I had no idea of the walking route neither do I think I knew the distances involved when I set off to walk home. Not that knowing that wouldn't have deterred me, my mind was made up and nothing could be worse than sitting for five hours listening to the same things that I had heard twice before. Outside it was a beautiful morning and I had my camera with me so surely there would be a butterfly or two to photograph or maybe a bird. I would not discouraged by the length of that walk for I have managed 25km in a day before now, albeit not in temperatures above 30 deg C and in glorious sunshine. As I set off I passed a couple of friends heading in the opposite direction to me. “Where are you going?”, they asked. Oh, back home, I need the exercise (true), I love walking (true) and I have done this course twice before (true), so what's not to like? They looked at me as if what I had said was stark staring bonkers or something but I ignored that. When I am walking and everything around is new to my sight then I don't get bored but it became a long, hot and tiring two and a half hours under the midday sun. Whilst I had a hat my neck was uncovered and starting to burn. I was thirsty and thankful that my route passed by Ben's the Grocers so I could buy a drink. A glass or three of wine would fortify me for the return trip.
I had an hour to recover at home before setting back which was just long enough to finish the wine, coffee and biscuits but now my problems began. Malaysia appears to have two seasons, wet and dry. In the dry season it rains once or twice a week. In the wet it is every day, or it feels like it! Regardless of season almost every day you wake up to glorious sunshine and cloud free skies. Around midday it starts to cloud over and two or three hours later a tropical storm will hit Kuala Lumpur. As I set off to the church a glance at the sky suggested it might start to rain in about an hour so I walked briskly.
It made little difference. By the time I had got half way the wind had picked up, thunder could be heard and light rain had started to fall. That is what I call the “five minute warning”, look for shelter there's a storm incoming. There was a covered footbridge nearby so I headed for that as the rain got heavier. Even the truck drivers knew what was coming and one stopped next to me to pull the covering over the contents. I leapt from my cover to help him and he gave me a battered umbrella as a 'reward'! However the thought of walking in a tropical thunderstorm under an umbrella didn't stay long in my mind and I quickly returned to the footbridge to sit out the storm.
Forty five minutes later it was over and I could continue my walk. I was late, annoyed and fearful of what reception awaited me. To make matters worse, as if they could be, I lost my way when I took a 'short cut' through the University grounds and added an extra 1km to what was already an exhausting journey. Finally , one hour late, I arrived at the church to find my wife sitting with friends and waiting for me to show up. Our friends made their excuses and left quickly whilst I mumbled apologies, for there was little else I could say.
The next day I sat on the sofa debating what had gone wrong with myself. I had enjoyed the first half the walk and getting a little wet from the rain wasn't really a problem but not being able to tell Yani where I was or why I was late was in no way acceptable and spoilt the whole day for me. I sat there brooding and trying to understand what I had done wrong (or whether I could blame anyone else, err, no!). Sure I could have gone to the event and sat all day thinking about the time I had wasted there answering the same questions for the third time! It wasn't for you. Yes, you're right, it wasn't for me, then I stopped moaning. What had I just said? It wasn't for you. That's not how I speak to myself! I wouldn't have used the word you, it should be me. You is used when someone else speaks to you! I ran the discussion back through my mind. How had that been said? Was it my mistake? Had I made it up? It was my voice, no doubt about it, but with a slightly sad, resigned edge to it. I looked around me, I was on my own. OK, let's try thinking this through and listening to whatever comes into my mind. If it wasn't for me then who was it for? Obviously, someone else, after all hundreds of people had attended it. So if it was for someone else then why should I have to be there? To meet and talk to someone. It hit me like a brick, my attendance wasn't for my benefit, it was intended for me to speak to someone and “lift them up/breath life into them”. I sat there on the sofa and ran that back through my mind, checking all my senses for any sign of a confirmation. It came, both a sense of sadness and then tears. I had failed and maybe someone was suffering because of that. I switched into prayer mode, asking for assistance for whoever it was that I should have ministered to and forgiveness, another chance or whatever.
I've run these events through my mind many times since that day and without a thought recorder I can't now be sure of what I was thinking and when. However, even now when I think of the words “It wasn't for you” there is a part of me that sends an impulse into my consciousness that says “never again”.
The first time I went to this day it felt great. Not that I had many things I needed to free myself from but then confirming that was the case is beneficial. The second time was less so. I learnt nothing new but, hey, it's only a Saturday, what else would I do and whilst I am here I can chat to a few friends. The third time? Well you're having a laugh at my expense aren't you and by now I was fed up with this. Just how many times do I have to say I have no sexual, idol or drug addictions in my life? Yani was going as she had volunteered to serve but I wasn't so I hatched a plan. I would drive her to the Luther Center early as she had the pre-course meeting to attend and then I would drive back home and return a few hours later. In my mind that sounded like a good plan. After all, my absence wouldn't be spotted amongst an audience of 500 would it? Unfortunately I had overlooked our unwritten rule that car passenger looks after the car parking ticket and as the driver there was no easy way I could get her to hand that over without revealing my plans. No matter, I quickly came up with another way to avoid attendance, I would walk home, spend an hour recovering and then walk back! Wow, so simple, what could go wrong?
The distance from home to church is 10km (6.2 miles) and takes 20 minutes to drive. I had no idea of the walking route neither do I think I knew the distances involved when I set off to walk home. Not that knowing that wouldn't have deterred me, my mind was made up and nothing could be worse than sitting for five hours listening to the same things that I had heard twice before. Outside it was a beautiful morning and I had my camera with me so surely there would be a butterfly or two to photograph or maybe a bird. I would not discouraged by the length of that walk for I have managed 25km in a day before now, albeit not in temperatures above 30 deg C and in glorious sunshine. As I set off I passed a couple of friends heading in the opposite direction to me. “Where are you going?”, they asked. Oh, back home, I need the exercise (true), I love walking (true) and I have done this course twice before (true), so what's not to like? They looked at me as if what I had said was stark staring bonkers or something but I ignored that. When I am walking and everything around is new to my sight then I don't get bored but it became a long, hot and tiring two and a half hours under the midday sun. Whilst I had a hat my neck was uncovered and starting to burn. I was thirsty and thankful that my route passed by Ben's the Grocers so I could buy a drink. A glass or three of wine would fortify me for the return trip.
I had an hour to recover at home before setting back which was just long enough to finish the wine, coffee and biscuits but now my problems began. Malaysia appears to have two seasons, wet and dry. In the dry season it rains once or twice a week. In the wet it is every day, or it feels like it! Regardless of season almost every day you wake up to glorious sunshine and cloud free skies. Around midday it starts to cloud over and two or three hours later a tropical storm will hit Kuala Lumpur. As I set off to the church a glance at the sky suggested it might start to rain in about an hour so I walked briskly.
It made little difference. By the time I had got half way the wind had picked up, thunder could be heard and light rain had started to fall. That is what I call the “five minute warning”, look for shelter there's a storm incoming. There was a covered footbridge nearby so I headed for that as the rain got heavier. Even the truck drivers knew what was coming and one stopped next to me to pull the covering over the contents. I leapt from my cover to help him and he gave me a battered umbrella as a 'reward'! However the thought of walking in a tropical thunderstorm under an umbrella didn't stay long in my mind and I quickly returned to the footbridge to sit out the storm.
Forty five minutes later it was over and I could continue my walk. I was late, annoyed and fearful of what reception awaited me. To make matters worse, as if they could be, I lost my way when I took a 'short cut' through the University grounds and added an extra 1km to what was already an exhausting journey. Finally , one hour late, I arrived at the church to find my wife sitting with friends and waiting for me to show up. Our friends made their excuses and left quickly whilst I mumbled apologies, for there was little else I could say.
The next day I sat on the sofa debating what had gone wrong with myself. I had enjoyed the first half the walk and getting a little wet from the rain wasn't really a problem but not being able to tell Yani where I was or why I was late was in no way acceptable and spoilt the whole day for me. I sat there brooding and trying to understand what I had done wrong (or whether I could blame anyone else, err, no!). Sure I could have gone to the event and sat all day thinking about the time I had wasted there answering the same questions for the third time! It wasn't for you. Yes, you're right, it wasn't for me, then I stopped moaning. What had I just said? It wasn't for you. That's not how I speak to myself! I wouldn't have used the word you, it should be me. You is used when someone else speaks to you! I ran the discussion back through my mind. How had that been said? Was it my mistake? Had I made it up? It was my voice, no doubt about it, but with a slightly sad, resigned edge to it. I looked around me, I was on my own. OK, let's try thinking this through and listening to whatever comes into my mind. If it wasn't for me then who was it for? Obviously, someone else, after all hundreds of people had attended it. So if it was for someone else then why should I have to be there? To meet and talk to someone. It hit me like a brick, my attendance wasn't for my benefit, it was intended for me to speak to someone and “lift them up/breath life into them”. I sat there on the sofa and ran that back through my mind, checking all my senses for any sign of a confirmation. It came, both a sense of sadness and then tears. I had failed and maybe someone was suffering because of that. I switched into prayer mode, asking for assistance for whoever it was that I should have ministered to and forgiveness, another chance or whatever.
I've run these events through my mind many times since that day and without a thought recorder I can't now be sure of what I was thinking and when. However, even now when I think of the words “It wasn't for you” there is a part of me that sends an impulse into my consciousness that says “never again”.