I was at youth camp yesterday.
There was a special musical session by Oops Asia, a guest performance item. The musical was good, but wasn't spiritually impactful.
What really nailed it was the preaching.
That young, seemingly boring-looking dude, spoke with so much impact through the content of his speech.
It was like he nailed every hurt in my heart.
He spoke of fig leaves.
Then the eyes of both (Adam and Eve) were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths.
- Genesis 3:7 ESV
The fig tree, in the past, was a source of security and income. Its fruits were sold to garner income for the people of Israel and Palestine.
Similarly he was using the fig leaves, as a metaphor, which we clothe ourselves with to hide our humanly insecurities, such as physical appearance, achievements, etc.
Because we do not want others to see the way we see ourselves.
But in an instant, the fig leaves may be blown away by a gush of wind.
Leaving us in all our nakedness, and vulnerability.
I listened with intent as he delivered his speech. Because I'd never thought of it that way. My achievements are simply fig leaves. And yes, the worries I'm facing, stems from the fear that a gush of wind will blow my fig leaves away in an instant. The knowledge that this was impending had burdened me for months.
As the pastor called people to come to the altar to be prayed for, I really wanted to get up, but was as usual shy to.
It takes courage to walk up to the altar. Furthermore, I was among a lot of people and the front area was too crowded.
It was not until the pastor mentioned about a message to girls about physical appearance, beauty and modesty, did I muster enough courage to walk up.
Because I am all too familiar with that fig leave.
As I got up there, I felt embarrassed. Because I'd situated myself way too far back, amongst those that didn't get out, so much so that the praying volunteers did not realize that I had come to the altar.
Yes I was embarrassed. So I prayed for the people ahead of me. It was always better than praying for myself.
Even though I had taken the courage to walk up to the altar, this act was all too familiar. I had done similar during other church services but I hadn't experienced any change to my emptiness, my brokenness. Sure I'd feel enlivened for an hour or two, but life returns to status quo of spiritual dryness thereafter.
A lady however came beside me quite some time later, she spoke in tongues, and I spoke with her. She paused. And said,
God has spoken to my heart to give you this message
He has not forgotten you.
And He has a very special task for you for His people.
and prayed for the healing of my brokenness and for God's anointing over me.
I broke out in tears, immediately. I'd not experienced this in years.
I remembered the times as I cried out to him in my bathroom (while bathing.. yes I pray while bathing because I am usually mentally unoccupied during this activity)
God have you forgotten me? Why have you forsaken. Have you forgotten why You'd brought me into nursing in the first place... Have you forgotten your plans for me in this beautiful profession? Have you not seen the hurt I face. Have You forgotten me? Have I forgotten...
The nights I'd pray on end, emptiness-filled. I've prayed to surrender to him, and still nothing happens. I've tried to read the bible, I've tried to be serious with every reading. Still, I felt empty.
But that very afternoon, He told me that He sees my pain, my hurt, and that He has not forgotten me and His very plans for me.
Nursing has always been a spiritual calling.
A spiritual calling to care for the ill and needy, the hurt and the broken, the people He so loves.
He was with me, through and through, from the time I worked hard to clinch the interview to get into the school of nursing in NUS, to my arduous time of study in the school of nursing, up till that very miraculous achievement in my honors year of study, working with my guardian angels, my professors, who supported me relentlessly even after my graduation, the director of research in my hospital who supported me and gave me valuable opportunities to grow.
But recently, everything is starting to fall apart. I was embarrassed at my desensitization to my patient's pain, hurt, sadness, and needs. My research director had to leave the hospital, leaving all the plans and opportunities she had for me hanging, the dean of NUS nursing school has left, she had played a vital role in my achievements.
I was left, standing alone, in the wind, fig leaves strewn.
Very soon, those that I have used to cover myself - my escalated progression, my research, my scholarship offer, will be blown away.
My greatest fear is to be left exposed in all my nakedness, the way I saw myself - unachieving, unintellectual, average, and ugly.
But God wants to clothe me with His everlasting love and grace.
And curse the fig leaves we use to clothe ourselves.
I never have to feel naked, vulnerable, hopeless and empty.
We are not forgotten.
