What does it mean to have been touched by God?
Those were questions I pondered on during the Holy Week, in between breaks as I studied for my first batch of final exams which I hurdled early this week. Good Friday reflections in our church tackled how the life of Jesus had changed his twelve apostles lives in the process. How had he changed mine? There were myriads of answers so I struggled to sort my thoughts out. After all, it makes no sense reflecting on a muddle.
I went back home and started sifting through the clutter of papers and cases on my desk when I came across a notebook which had fallen behind my table. I leafed through the pages and found a poem I had written three years back, a poem which summed up what I felt about knowing Jesus and having Him in my life.
To be touched by God, to have been changed by God is to be filled with joy so deep-seated it sprawls to the innermost recesses of your very being. It does not mean the absence of difficulty or pain and frustration but the ability to look beyond the sting and see that there is still so much to be thankful for and to rejoice about. It means finding a new reason for breathing apart from what you want and what you dictate. It's about learning to let go and watch each day go by with utter amazement as to how something beautiful could unfurl at the best possible moment. It is the kind of joy which carries you past the roughest tempests and fills you with hope, the kind of joy that dwells in the shadows...in the shadow of the Cross.
Joy floods my heart as I think of Your love,
Eternal, unceasing, never-ending.
Source of all Light, my words fall short of You.
Unworthy, I wandered in the dismal
Shadows, tormented by uncertainty,
Clawed by the deep, unforgiving darkness.
Had my mind forgotten, my mind would not.
Raging love of heaven burned before me.
I, indolent, could not be offered such
Sheer, unconditioal sacrifice, one
That only You could offer, I then accept.
(Amberle Brin, January 2005)
