The Journey
Cotton
Would you care to listen to a cotton story?
It's a little lengthy and dull but I hope you would listen to the tiny me...
It was a breezy day,
For a sail away,
Needless to say,
I took a leap and left the hay.
Light and easy,
I flew across the sea,
Fishes jumped in frenzy,
Corals glittered deep under the sea,
But I worried if I were to drop into the water, that would be the end of me.
I flew higher,
And the view got greater,
I felt stronger,
Like I were apart of the entire nature.
Eagles flapped their wings,
Daffodils and lilies were swaying like little queens and kings,
Lions and rabbits played cheekily in the same ring,
I'm desparate to see the next beautiful thing!
I'm eager to see more and be apart of the perfect likings!
Then, a sudden darkness surrounded me,
Fear crawled in and it was getting eerie,
I couldnt see!
I jumped up and down frantically,
Trying to escape the grasp of the enemy,
I shouted to God, Help me!
I cowered my face and got down on my knees.
"Hear ye, hear ye, you called me?"
The voice was familiar and full of mercy,
I looked up and shouted with glee,
Jesus' hands was cupping over me!
"I saw you admiring My creation and I feel happy"
"But can't you see?
"I am lonely
"I have created all things and they are lovely
"But my biggest creation has betrayed me
"I gave my Son and they killed him in cruelty
"I love them and I want them to come back to me
"Are they willing? Do they need me?
"I will come back soon and they can choose freely
"Should they choose me, I will grant them eternity"
So I grabbed onto Him tightly,
For I knew He is the one for me,
I soared up with Him and I knew I have eternal peace,
And that's the end of me-a cotton story.
Roots
A young and blooming tree stood tall amidst the rest. Coloured with greens and budding berries, others drew closer for advice on how to be deeply rooted and grow beautifully. The simple tree, not accustomed to the attention and praises, would just shrugged off the compliments and sing of God's praises and mercies in its life to the rest of the plants.
The young tree, spirited and energetic, would always look up to Heaven and acknowledge God's hands in its life. Poised to be polished for His work in the future, the tree tried to enjoy the time that it has before venturing in full-volume to the other pasture. That road would not be easy.
"It's not easy", the tree said. Fear had actually crept inside but the tree assumed it's normal for anything as small as it is, to feel that way after being picked to do big things. Little did it know, its roots were loosening.
The strong stems used to be fresh and vibrantly absorbing everything that it was given to by the Creator. Now, it's turning grey and it was holding back from every anointing and even turning its back from His face. The young tree was ashamed of itself.
The roots have been poisoned. It's turning blue and it was drying up. Somehow, one way or another, the young tree knew that something was terribly wrong. It tried to call upon God to do something. God was silent. Could it be due to the fact that the roots have gone too far from His presence?
The tree could still boldly sing praises and love hymns, but, it would always stop to ponder, "How much do I love God?"
The answer remained bleak. The roots were still shattering. One day, the poison and lack of refreshmen would reach its trunk and its leaves and fruits.
The young tree prayed that that day would never come. It longed to be deeply rooted in God again. Determination was set and the desire was ablazed but the faith wavered.
Lord, have mercy on the little tree.
Working Sunday
It's a working Sunday today. That means, I've skipped church.
Though the guilty feeling haunted early in the morning, it eventually subsided when I began to thank God for such few working Sundays.
In my career, we work 24/7. Whether it's a state of emergency or war or Hurricane Salmah (though scientifically speaking no hurricane can ever hit us but God's thoughts are higher than ours...), we still need to work. As my editor has pointed out during the hazy season, "We are like soldiers. Even if people are all locked up in the house, we still need to bring the news to their doorsteps." I was amazed at that.
So, we journalists take turns to work for every saturdays, sundays and public holidays. Surprisingly, after 7 months here, I've only worked on Sunday twice. Today is the first for me to skip church.
Being in this job somehow eases me from lies and deceits. Most jobs require us to lie whether we like it or not, like my previous job. I couldnt handle it, so though I was promised a "good life", I left.
I'm being cheated every day though as a journalist. Once I've found out a flaw in a company, the management will deny the entire claim. We call ceos and directors for news every day and their secretaries seem to have a whole list "what to say when a reporter ask to talk to my boss" excuses. Of course, I'm not implying that the secretarial career is no good, but, I am just foretelling what I'm going through every day.
Journalists need to write and tell the truth to the public. Yet, at times, we are bound by whether we are able to write bad news about our advertisers, or should we write a good piece on a potential advertiser. And, for the first time, somebody passed me a brown envelope with "documents" to help me with my write-up after an interview I did. Looking at his face prompted me to look into the envelope and yup, I found cash inside. Politely I declined. Couldnt bring myself to tell him that "Not only will God judge you but He will judge me as well", so I said, "I'm just doing my job and receiving money is against our professionalism".
I escaped the first temptation. Can I escape the next? Only God can help me to stick on to His kingdomly principles. For the earthly laws are so meant to be broken that sin seems like a part of everyone's lives here.
