Every human wish dream that is injected into the Christian community is a hindrance to genuine community and must be banished if genuine community is to survive. He who loves his dream of a community more than the Christian community itself becomes a destroyer of the latter, even though his personal intentions may be ever so honest and earnest and sacrificial.

God hates visionary dreaming; it makes the dreamer proud and pretentious. The man who fashions a visionary ideal of community demands that it be realised by God, by others, and by himself. He enters the community of Christians with his demands, sets up his own law, and judges the brethen and God Himself accordingly. He stands adament, a living reproach to all others in the circle of brethren. He acts as if he is the creator of the Christian community, as if his dream binds men together. When things do not go his way, he calls the effort a failure. When his ideal picture is destroyed, he sees the community going to smash. So he becomes, first an accuser of his brethren, then an accuser of God, and finally the despairing accuser of himself.

                                                                            Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together


Father, forgive me for being that dreamer. For being proud and pretentious in all my ways. For my idealistic notions of a utopian environment, where I demand my own set of laws. May You, and only You, bound us together in one body, as You have already laid the foundation of our fellowship. For the Christian community is not an ideal reality, but a divine one. I give up my wishful thinking, masquerading as a heavenly calling. For the basis of community is not of one's definite idea of what Christian life together should be like, but of grace. Grace which shatters such dreams. I thank You for this gift of grace - the privilege of living this common life with my fellow brethrens. It is only possible with and through Christ who has done everything vital for us to have Him and one another. For all eternity.

G

It's 12.15am, I'm still at the office, and I want to go back.  But this was so funny I just had to let everyone know.
Tricktickler Jonathan Fresh Suede Chew Smooth Pimp Daddy G. Kicks

I was rummagging through my lap-top today, and was amazed to find a stash of writings I had written before - poems. 

I always used to love writing poems.  I remember in Melbourne, I would sit on the park bench, and do nothing all afternoon but trying to craft one. Of course, that's ancient history.  Work, plus a heart that is more often than not hard instead of soft, has seemingly strangled that passion I had.

Which is as sad as it reads, because when I was re-reading some of them, I was moved. Imagine that, almost being brought to tears by your own writing. I guess out of all the people it should speak to, I am on top of the list.

Here's one that made me particularly sentimental..

Graffiti on the Walls of Heaven

How my package of prayer must seem like
A misplaced air-mail of effort
Trying, striving, oh so frustrating
I wonder if it will just be smashed
Crashed, returned to sender

If I looked at the walls of heaven
What would I expect to find?
Calligraphic beauty, adorned in a perfect pattern?
Water-coloured rainbows, multi-layered from every view?
Arts of Picasso’s style of aplomb and shapely strokes?
Or photos of the sunrise captured along the horizon of Ocean Road?

Maybe I’ll walk through heaven’s hall of prayer
And I’ll glance at all of there
But I’ll come across my own
And furrow in puzzled understanding
Stretching for miles on the wall
Is graffiti
Raw and uncouth
A child-like mess of extraordinary proportions

And the Guide standing next to it will beckon me over
Inviting me to gaze upon the beauty
Though in curiosity, I’ll ask what it all means
Gently taking me by His hand, He’ll walk me through gates of splendour
Whispering in a still small voice
Son, your prayers were heard, even if they were nothing more
Than graffiti on the walls of heaven

I wonder what that nudge in my heart is.  Could it be, as I am taking this long and lonely journey back to God, I should start to let my pen talk in ways my mouth cannot? Maybe.

If only I can find a darn park in KL.

j.

People often say "Do your best and let God will do the rest." I don't like it. It's almost similar to the notion that "God helps those who help themselves." I think that's an utterly pagan statement. Much of it still highlights our dependence on our own human efforts.


Here's a piece of ancient wisdom.

Do your best, prepare for the worst - then trust God to bring victory.

         Proverbs 21:31



I like that. Do or die, we're believing for victory.


In Deo speramus


In God we trust




G