“What have you been up to?” A friend asked last week.
“Rushing for a paper due on the coming week…” I answered with my half-closed eyes in tiredness.
“Oh, do you need me to edit it?” She asked in a very casual way, as if it's not a problem for her at all.
My eyes and mouth widely opened, “Really?! That would be great! But, I am still working on it, and I can't send you way earlier before deadline to allow you more time to proofread…”
“It's okay. Just send me after you're done.” The same casual tone.
Finally, I managed to wrap it up and sent to my friend two days before the deadline at 21:46pm. Feeling bad to send her so late, I told her it’d be great if she could finish by the afternoon the following day so I could have time to finalise it, but no rush for I knew she was busy and it’s my fault to send out late.
However, when I woke up in the following morning, I saw the edited file already in my email inbox. It was sent at midnight, two hours after my email. I knew it was not a “convenient” time for my friend, because of her coming interviews, and because she had to get up before 6:30AM that morning. And throughout my writing process, my friend also poured out so much encouragement and support to me, including ice cream. Every time when I try to verbalise my thankfulness after she lends me a helping hand, this is the response I always get, “Chris, this is what I am here for.”
Looking at the edited file, the first thing came into my mind with a fountain of gratitude was, “Chris Lau, next time when you feel like it’s an inconvenient time to serve, PLEASE remember God sent friends to rescue you in their inconvenient times, and they did it for you.”
Saying “I love you” might not be that easy especially in Asian culture, but after getting over the cultural constraint and the unnecessary sense of embarrassment, it may not be that hard. What is more difficult is, to really mean it when we say it. Love is a commitment that requires sacrifice. Especially in times that are inconvenient for us, in terms of schedule, in terms of the courage that required to serve outside our comfort zone, in terms of emotion investment, in terms of the possibility of getting hurt in our vulnerability, in terms of many other things.
One time another friend and I were talking about to love and to serve. We came to a point that in many times, if we are plainly honest to ourselves, most of us may not really expect or care much about the reciprocation, like we are perfectly fine if we don’t get a free dinner back after buying meal for a beloved friend. But what we consciously or unconsciously expect may be more of recognition. The recognition of we are pouring out something, it costs us something. “It’s very subtle,” he said, “sometimes we really want that person to recognise that God does not leave them alone in trials, He is with them, and He sends friends including us to share burden and to keep them company. But there are also times we have this expectation of being recognised out of ourselves.”
Beholding the cross, where Jesus’ love beams more dazzlingly than anything else on earth, I wonder if it is ever possible for anyone to ever fully recognise or understand His love in this life. It was never a convenient time for Him to empty himself and take the form of servant to die on the cross. Having said that, it doesn’t stop Him from pouring out his love so utterly and unreservedly, to us who can’t even fully comprehend this precious gift. This love is so humble, yet so glittering, to cast away even the greatest darkness in wilderness.
“Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.” (Psalm 63:3)
No comments:
Post a Comment