Streams of Living Water

the MOE building was rather drab, nothing like the several kilometers of beautiful morning scenery that greeted me on my fresh walk from school. images of Nazneen in Brick Lane flashed before me - Grey, prison-like glass and metal - impersonal. not a smile. the only smile was on my I/C - Which was promptly traded for a visitor's pass - and that didn't even count as a smile.

three people sat before me. the center one quite unnerving - probably the interrogator i thought - the two at the side slightly easier to please (or at least that was the impression). tough questions. what was my greatest setback? and at points I felt like I was seriously selling myself - putting myself on the shelf, dressing myself in pretty little colors and hoping to be bought. and horrors of horrors I revealed that I wrote poetry - and I recited The Greater Sunshine to them - and bore my soul basically ):

Streams of living water. I've been told to guard our well-spring of life. To be careful what wells up from within. James Chapter 3 has somewhere that a spring cannot have fresh water and salt water at the same time. What emerges from within reflects our inner state. Hold your tongue, tame it, a lot of bad has happened with it. Yet in the same passage, I was reminded that the same tongue can start a fire, with a simple spark of goodness.

I was told. 5 loaves 2 fishes fed a thousand. a spark can become a fire. faith as a mustard seed can grow into a majestic tree. I was told that God can do these things. And I believed.

and I recall a Sunday where we were tracting to invite people to the lovely Fairfield Preaching Point, and I saw the face of Jesus - in a man sitting alone at the side of the MRT station. the trains roared on the deck above, and this man sat there lonely and indulging in whatever lunch-break he had. something drew me near. and I crouched beside him. my cousin gave me a wild look. but it would be fine. God called me there i guess.

Mr Huang was his name, a cleaner from China, daughter had married a local chap. and his son-in-law was a Christian - he had seen a cross before, hanging in the house of his now married daughter - but he had never heard the gospel. And so that day, on this cardboard box he had in front of him, i whipped out my stationery and told him the story of creation, the fall of man, and our redemption through Christ's sacrifice. no way I could have done it alone - God's inspiration - you take the glory Lord.

Prayed for a man I knew for only a few minutes. wrote on a box words that I pray will change his life...ahhh. God do your work now (: it's your job now Lord (: