For Your Eyes Only

I was in a state of panic. I couldn't find the notes I made of that morning's sermon, which I had so carefully written down. I rummaged through my book basket and searched every space in between each of my issues - nothing. I picked up the Bible that I brought with me to church to see if I had somehow inserted it there - nothing. I asked my mum if she saw it - still nothing.

I literally - and figuratively - lost it.

I had put in a good effort in writing down those notes. There were a lot of things that were mentioned that morning that struck some significant chords in me. You see, a few nights before, I was wrestling with a couple of thoughts right after I had finished watching a debate online regarding the deity of Christ. In my mind, I knew what was right. However I couldn't help but wrestle with some questions I wanted answers to, and it drove me to plead with the Lord for some reassurance through His Word. That doubt was finally put to rest that Sunday during church service. I marveled at how the Lord spoke so clearly, so straightforwardly - and silenced every uncertainty I had. That morning, the sermon our pastor preached on was from Galatians, and it was about finding our confidence in Christ's authority. It might have just been a regular Sunday for others in the congregation. But when it came to just between me and the Lord - in His sovereign grace, He knew what exactly would speak to my heart and build my confidence in Him.

When the day was done and I finally got home, I thought about all these things and decided to keep the sermon notes for file. In my mind, I figured that someone else might be encouraged and could benefit from what I learned today too, so it was a good thing to keep them in handy just in case I wanted to write about it or talk about it later on. I even considered sharing a little something about it on my social media later that evening. That's how I started hunting for my notes. And the reason why I felt frustrated when I couldn't find them.

After coming to the conclusion that it was perpetually lost, I sat down by my bed side and sulked. I felt defeated, and also very confused. Why did it matter so much to me to find that piece of paper? Earlier in the day, I wasn't even looking for it after I left the sanctuary. I didn't even realize that I never got to take it home. What really caused my distress was the thought of not having it on hand should there be an opportunity to share it with other people. After all, I'm not very good at explaining myself spontaneously. I'm okay with speaking in public, but only when I have a script or notes I can refer to. Losing my notes felt like I would reduce the value of the message if ever I had the opportunity to share it with another person - because I might mess it up. Losing my notes felt like I lost my opportunity to give God glory.

I stopped myself at that point. Then took two steps back.

"Reduce the value if you share it with another person?" I repeated the words to myself out loud. And then I started laughing and crying at the same time. Because in some way, the Holy Spirit caught me and reminded me that what I heard that morning and what was impressed upon my heart was meant for ME. That quiet moment of Him showing a brief glimpse of His glory was between me and the Lord - not for anyone else.

To call this a "God Thing" would be too trivial. This is not just some occurrence that I could slap on an "everything happens for a reason" - anomaly to it. I always had a problem with those terms because it would treat situations like this as mere coincidence and makes no sense, when in fact the Lord is never random but always purposeful in His ways. I was laughing and crying because all of a sudden, the pieces started falling into place.


ARTISTRY AT WORK
During the same weekend (Saturday), I had spent some time with my mum at a Women's Event at church talking about the Divine Artistry of God's Sovereignty. I won't get into too much detail about it, as that is reserved for a different blog post. But while I was sitting there on the side of my bed, I was reminded of the things I had learned that day. I remembered the way Yahweh worked in and through the lives of His children to bring about His plan for redemption - a boy sold by his brothers out of jealousy, a baby in a basket drifting through the river, a child who lived in a linen closet, a queen and a banquet. We can take each of these narratives and pick up lessons from each of them. And yet when you take a step back, you see that all of these stories were merely small brushstrokes that painted a grander picture. The picture of God's sovereign grace through Jesus Christ.

Every single moment of each character's life showed the little flicks from the Artist's paintbrush. We know it today because we see the story from end to end. But when you consider that what we know as history was the reality of these characters in their lifetime, we gain a better perspective. No one has a clue of what a painting will look like until the Artist puts His brush down. Not even the canvas knows. All they could do was wait and watch. There wasn't anyone to share their amazement to, or the realizations they were making along the way. They simply lived in it, so the revelations were kept special - like a secret between them and the Lord.

"Do not be quick to make real to others what the Lord has only revealed to you."


WAIT FOR IT
So no, losing my notes did not reduce the value of the sermon simply because I risked sharing it the wrong way. But I realize now that if I did end up sharing it with other people, it would have made light of how precious the Lord's words were to me. Had I let others in on what I heard this morning, I would have totally missed out on the message the Lord impressed upon my own heart. It was gracious enough of Him to let me hear His voice. Even more so to let me hear it alone.

So I say this now with much sobriety: do not be quick to make real to others what the Lord has only revealed to you. You know how sometimes we think of something so amazing in our heads but then it only sounds good when it's... in our heads? Perhaps it's to teach us that not everything we learn needs to be put on blast. The brushstrokes only become special once you see the final masterpiece, so wait for it. I like how Habakkuk puts it:



When you train yourself to listen for His voice and watch the mystery unfold, The Lord will ensure that it stays fresh in your heart. There isn't a need for anyone else to know about it to make it any more real than it already is. Just like Abraham on the mount, Joseph in the dungeon, Moses in the wilderness, Samuel in the night, Joash in the linen closet, Esther before the banquet - I could go on - these people learned to wait on the wonder that was the sovereignty of God. The highlight of their stories wasn't their patience, their endurance, the answer to the call, or their victory - no matter how true all those things are. The highlight always pointed to God's grace and faithfulness. Because He was always in the center of each of those stories. The question is, who is in the center of yours?

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