Backlog

Backlog of seasons. Life recap.

First I was good and lovely and life was wonderful because I was good and lovely.

Then I got mean and horrible and empty and I wondered what happened and what it all meant and why I was so helpless. See previous post.

After that I got caught up in some theological thunderstorm which made me question everything I ever knew and wonder some more about life and God and sovereignty and free will.

Now, I have been eased out of my own head and delivered from a week of serving twice in various capacities for worship in the most understated but loving way possible.

I know God is trying to say something here and I’m not quite sure what it is exactly yet, but let me try anyways.

It was something about faith and trust.

Yes, there is human agency to a point. Yes, God can sustain this relationship without us because He is completely complete in and of Himself and He never needed us in that sense. But yes, He still wants us and have this relationship with us fallen, failed people who do have an agency to an extent.

It was easier to see this abstract concept in the workings of serving for worship.

God gave me songs really early last week for school and it was a pretty good set based on feedback. He saw me through the session and blessed all my relationships and moved people and rested His presence in that place. God’s sovereignty. I still had to pray over it and transpose and print chords to make sure they were singable and do techy music things and write devos and do briefings and actually be there and lead. My part of the partnership.

It’s a two-way thing.

God helped me to do homework and prep for service this week. He gave me sounds for the songs and more music techy help from friends and encouragement and affirmation from experienced older people. God’s work. I had to do the homework and write/memorize/practice and be there at prac. My work.

It’s a line I’m still figuring out. Worship is. Life is. It’s so difficult to remember and to keep the balance.

I never know how to take the “you did good” comments because I’m like yeaaa noo I dunnoo it was me but it wasn’t all me and like I dunno I shouldn’t/can’t take all the credit and it’s iffy. And I kinda don’t wanna fall into the “my music competency = my identity/self-worth” and be too overly proud/happy about it.

I still screwed up here and there and I want to reach a point where even though I didn’t play play perfect, I still know and feel legit as part of the worship team to share my feels in confidence.

This recent worship experience was something else. He didn’t let me panic even though my head kind of ‘wanted’ to (you know how you feel that you’re more in control when you worry, that kind of thing). Like it was telling me I should and I was worried that I wasn’t as worried as I thought I should be. It felt weird. Because I felt it so strongly that He had put His foot down and He absolutely did not allow me to worry. Even though I wanted to and felt like I had to.

I found a kind of understated joy in serving this week. In doing homework. In being musically aware while not emphasizing on the music. It wasn’t all about music techy stuff. I don’t know how to say. Like it wasn’t the high euphoric kind of thing. It was just in the doing. And I wasn’t exactly in the best place spiritually either. Was still easing out of my confusions so in retrospect, I was just going into it really relying on God. And He did something amazing this week.

I’m still trying to understand and wrap my head around it. Cos it was an experience. And I’m a word person. I’m a “God pls speak to me through the Bible in black and white so that I can like remember this is the way to go/live.” I want to understand stuff. I want to understand God.

But I think there are limits to understanding someone as big as God, not w this lil brain of mine. And what’s more important is knowing God, knowing Him as a person, that friend who’s got your back.

Still, even though now I’m basking in how amazing God, I’m still like “God can you please do a debrief in words so that I know I’ve got you right and can no how to live/move on from here pls.” Haha.

No words. Thanks God.

PSA

Very much out of control, I think. Very much so.

Where’s my head? Lost my head. On knees, grasping at where it was last left.

Funny. Funny, funny thing. Control is. Don’t know what it was, that it was wanted so badly, or held so dear, until life gets too big to fall neatly into our little, little world.

Never was in control, nay, not I. Life just stacked into what I could see, could understand. Somewhat somehow anyway. Why am I surprised if it goes a bit off? I wasn’t the one keeping it on.

I think it’s an illusion.

I can’t even control these hands, these feet. But don’t they always say you are your strongest enemy?

It slips away the more it is grasped that I think it wasn’t meant to be possessed at all. Letting go of that which never belonged to you is much harder than it sounds.

But that’s because I believed the dratted illusion.

I am at that part of the dream, the part where you’re flying in the air and you realise you’re flying that you look down and begin to sink rather helplessly. That’s how it always happens. When you’re up there or think you’re up there, and you think you got there by yourself, trying to make something of the naive child you are, trying to prove something to someone, that you are broken, over and over. Nothing you ever do quite helps you go up again. Nothing you did made you go up anyway.

Just a dream.

It’s not that I don’t know how to go from here. It’s that I can’t, or won’t.

I cannot.

Public service announcement: am absolutely the meanest, most insensitive, worst version of myself that I can possibly be at the moment. Completely in the mood to wound, unintentionally, of course, but effectively so all the same. Would probably be in this mood all my life if not for divine intervention. Of which my spirit is crying out for, words of life. Of which my flesh is being a snorlax of an obstacle, refusing to budge.

I know it would be more useful to deal with this instead of issuing a PSA to apologise/justify/warn people but at the moment, snorlax sleeps.

Need to go soak my head in whatever is good, noble, right and true when I find it. Out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. Words of life never return empty. Need them to give them.

I know this is what counts. I know this is where it counts. But so much for knowing. Knowing is no longer enough.