Never Alone

If I were all alone--no husband or baby-just back in my Tah Ching bedroom with no responsibilities but to come home by midnight, what would I be doing with my life?

Some days, I find myself alone again. When t falls asleep in the afternoon, a neon sign flashes in my mind and I panic: Quick! Do all the things you want to do!

My priority sorter shuffles and stacks my must-dos in three seconds. It goes something like this:

1. Do computer work!
2. If #1 is done, cut T's nails
3. Then cut the cats' nails
4. Cut my own nails.

If nobody is in need of nail-cutting, I find myself at the edge of a precipice, looking down at the multitude of options that suddenly swarm below me.

I could paint my nails. Read a book. Take a nap. Eat a biscuit? I can do that when she's awake, so no. Help, I've forgotten how to live just for me!

This kind of day-to-day time crunch has me locked into an illusion that my time is not my own, and that my life choices are not my own either.

"Baby t dictates my schedule."
"I have to choose what my family wants."
"God is directing 'us as a couple', or 'us as a family'."
There is no more art direction of my own day.

But on Saturday, I made the rare decision to go for Kallos Mission Morning on my own. I didn't ask anyone to accompany me before I registered and paid for it online. I strapped t to me (ok, so not really on my own), made all the mrt transits, had my own breakfast, and walked up to the church on time.

Within five minutes of the opening worship, I was a different person.

I hadn't even heard the three missionary speakers yet. I hadn't been inspired by their courage and convictions yet. But standing there in a body of mostly female, mostly young believers, singing this song together, I remembered who I really was when I was alone in my Tah Ching life:

"All that I am, all that I have
I lay it down before You O Lord
All my regrets, all my acclaim
The joy and the pain, I'm making them yours

Lord I offer my life to You
Everything I've been through
Use it for Your glory
Lord I offer my days to You
Lifting my praise to You
As a pleasing sacrifice
Lord I offer You my life

Things in the past, things yet unseen
Wishes and dreams that are yet to come true
All of my hopes, all of my plans
My heart and my hands
Are lifted to You"

Two lines in and the tears had started to flow. By the end of it I was completely brought back to the solitude of my youth. It was just me and God, nobody between us, nobody beside me. Him and me, the way it used to be "when I was alone."

Sitting outside the hall in my free period, realising for the first time that I was on a new adventure with God by my side. Bus rides soaking in His word, learning and learning, growing and growing. Going up the hills in Southern Thailand in a minivan, hearing God say that He was with me when I was just a shepherd boy tending sheep.

It was never just me, alone. It was me and God on a journey together, Him gently accepting the small gifts of faith I offered. For a long time it had become "k and me and God"--together searching for His will for our future. I had forgotten that God also wanted to take stock of my relationship with Him. He wanted to hear His little j declare that she was choosing this life, these actions, these sacrifices.

So yes. I am now in the headspace of the author of this song. I have wishes and dreams that are yet to come true, clouded by the anxiety of time being more and more limited. But I offer them to God, and I choose this life.

I choose to make T my daily priority.
I choose to put aside a normal career and go to Manila.
I choose to face the challenges of pail baths, insects and being away from family.
I choose to spend my Sundays with k and g@n.
I choose everything, and I own that choice.