Take this world from me, I don't need it anymore.

I am finally free. Now I have a peace I've never known before... I find myself complete, my heart is spoken for. Oh, I praise You and I worship You.

Covered by Your love divine, I'm a child of the risen Lord. To hear You say "This one's mine", my heart is spoken for. By the power of the cross, You've taken what was lost and made it fully Yours. And I have been redeemed by You who spoke to me.

Now I am spoken for.


Lyrical credits: Spoken For by Mercy Me

I've been reading Eric's blog, and everytime I hear about these accounts of bigotry and hypocrisy within the church, it scares me because it could just as well be happening to me.

I often wonder what the reaction would be if issues of homosexuality were brought up in the church. Where would the divide be? It'd be interesting and frightening at the same time to see which side people would gravitate towards.

I'm still struggling with the question of where I stand in this homosexuality-and-the-church gap. But regardless of what I am or where I stand, it shouldn't matter, just as long as we're all connected through Christ. If I am struggling with the issue of being gay, why should it make me different from someone else struggling with an ostensibly "lesser" problem?

Anyway, back to Eric's blog. Two posts in particular (this one and this one) reminded me of a sermon on unity that I heard on Sunday. It was called "UNITY starts with U N I". In the sermon, the pastor said that the issue of disunity in the church had nothing to do with differences per se; it was all about indifference, i.e. simply not caring.

A Christian doctor was quoted as saying,

"Disunity is like cancer. It occurs when normal, healthy body cells turn into rogue cells, that no longer function in their called capacity. They become so fiercely independent that they become parasitic. It is the body consuming itself, a sort of cannibalism."

In order to be united, we need to be committed to one another in love and on the basis of personal relationships. In community, we learn to say WE instead of I, and OUR instead of mine (Romans 14:19). In commitment, there must be:

1. EFFORT. Ephesians 4:3 (CEV) - "Try your best to let God's Spirit keep your hearts united. Do this by living at peace."
2. ACCEPTANCE. Romans 15:7 (GNB) - "Accept one another, then, for the glory of God, as Christ has accepted you."
3. TOLERANCE. Ephesians 4:2 (NIV) - "Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love."
4. SELFLESSNESS. Philippians 2:3&4 (GNB) - "Don't do anything from selfish ambition or from a cheap desire to boast, but be humble toward one another, always considering others better than yourselves. And look out for one another's interests, not just for your own."
   

Only God can create real fellowship between believers. He cultivates it with the choices and commitments we make. But we must also do our part-- We must guard our unity (Romans 12:10&11). All of us have to play our part.

Unity does not mean doing the same things, getting everyone involved in the same projects or ministries. Here's the clincher-- It's about loving and trusting enough to accept, affirm and bless one another in pursuing the full range of callings God lays on the hearts of His people. It is essentially a ONENESS in Spirit!

This is the most interesting thing I've read all week.

Makes a whole lot of sense.

I just had my first straight wet dream in a long time.

Granted, it wasn't exactly the best of circumstances-- I was committing adultery and there was raucous promiscuous sex involved, but that's beside the point.

It was straight sex. And it got the job done, if you get my drift.

I woke up kinda confused. Pleasantly surprised, but confused. What does this mean? Is this a good sign? At this point I'm not so sure, but one thing's obvious-- I can still get off on straight sex.

A funny thing to celebrate, eh?

My pee smells like coffee.

That's what you get from drinking 2 cups of espresso, I guess. As a result, my mind is churning, full of thoughts. Mindless thoughts. Heavy thoughts. Thoughts of action and consequence. Thoughts of life and faith and direction.

I know that the most important thing for me to do amidst the mental chaos is to let go and to cling to God. To hang on to Him and ask to be pulled out from the mire. And yet, I feel like just turning and walking away. I know I should run to Him, but I feel like running the other way.

There's something about being in a vice that pulls you in. You know the direction you're going, and you know what you could do to stop it, and yet you do nothing. You go with the flow, and let the current take you. You're not helpless, but you act like you are. You give in to the many clawed hands of depravity and iniquity, simply because you don't want to fight. Or maybe it's just an escape? But an escape from what? From God? From the world?

Or from yourself?

And while you're in deep, there's always a small glimmer of hope that you cling to. That maybe it would pull you out. I've been listening to David Crowder Band's latest CD, and there's one song called Rescue Is Coming. This is my hope. This is my foothold on the precipice that I hold on to, afraid to look down, not for fear of seeing what the chasm holds, but for fear that in seeing what lies beneath, I might choose to let go and fall.

There's a darkness in my skin
My cover's wearing thin, I believe
I'd love to start again, go back to innocent
And never leave

Don't give up now
A break in the clouds
We could be found

There's nothing wrong with me
It's just that I believe things could get better
And there's nothing wrong with love
I think it's just enough to believe

And there's nothing wrong with you
And nothing left to do
But believe something bigger
And there's nothing wrong with love
I know it's just enough to believe

Rescue is coming

"And while we yet were sinners, Christ died for us. He did not leave us alone. He stepped into our condition to bring us back to God. To bring us back to what was intended. The divine, bearing all of depravity. The most horrific of collisions. The most tragic and beautiful. The breaking is glorious and loud. We have won. It might not feel like it. You might not see it just yet. But the reality of our situation is that rescue is present. Every second of life is spent in the very presence of God. There is not a second of human history that he has not been present. Majesty is here. And it is coming. Finally. Just be quiet. And wait."

- David Crowder

What kind of boyfriend would I be?

What kind of boyfriend would I be?

Been pondering that question for quite a while, and I figure I'd probably be the jealous type. Now, I've never actually been in a real relationship where I've had the chance to see how my feelings would fare under emotional pressure, so I can't say for sure. But judging from the way I handle friends, I'd probably be one of those green-monster type boyfriends.

It used to be that I took pride in how I handled my desires for other guys. If I met a guy I was attracted to, I inevitably fell for him. What I would always do was to set it straight in my head that nothing would ever come of the friendship, and that it would always remain just that-- a friendship. And in doing so, I would take all that emotional energy that would've gone into the relationship (if there was ever to be one), and put it into the friendship. What would subsequently result was friendships that were characterized by much closeness and no shortage of brotherly affection.

But lately I've found myself questioning it all. Have I really been successful at it? Looking back on my friendships, I wonder— Have I been deluding myself? I've been possessive of my friends before, and felt hurt many times by friends I cherished. I know that people do feel like this with friends they feel close to, but is my case different because I harbour deeper feelings for these friends?

Throughout all these questions, I wonder what Jesus would do. Then again, I doubt Jesus ever struggled with homosexual attraction marring his friendships.

How do you put it into words?

How do you put it into words?

How can you express it? That itchy empty feeling... That void that gnaws at you.

It's just the beginning of the new year, and it strikes you that with the holidays, your faith also took a vacation. It came to a point where you simply just existed. You simply lived day to day, living in the moment. You were a shell, driven by needs and wants.

You realize that you're driven by the need to love that particular person who can't ever know you love him, who can't ever know the things you go through everyday, that whenever you see him your emotions soar so high, and despite the knowledge of the inevitable re-death when you crash back to earth, you can't help but feel that when you don't see him, the day feels empty.

And all the while you wish you had that same devotion for God. You wish you had that same desire in you for the One who saved you. And with this new year, the responsibilities of church and Christianity loom, and you find myself tired. Tired of doing but not living. Tired of feeling like it's a responsibility rather than a desire.

Is this a sign of spiritual stagnation? Is this a sign that you should move on? How do you shake this feeling and climb out of this rut? Or perhaps it's a sign that you never had what you think you did?

And throughout it all, you somehow feel you've missed the point. You feel like the poster-child for hypocrisy, and it almost feels like the only option is to run away. But where would you run? Where could you go? Seems like all that's left is for you to keep at the routine and hope and pray that God will show you an exit. That He will remind You of your purpose. That He will rekindle the fire that was in you.

If there ever was one to begin with.