Buddhist temple in BusanMany years ago, I was chatting to Aunty Sarong, my grandparent's domestic helper. An Indian lady who spoke the Hokkien dialect as well as any Chinese. She has been around forever and I'm very fond of her as I am of all things of Taiping, my grandparents' hometown.
She told me a little about her family troubles and we had a conversation on Church. It was interesting that she believed in the healing power that can be found through the Church and when I asked her then why she would not believe Christianity as a religion, she said, "It's not for old people like me."
On Sunday I was having lunch with friends and S, who has recently moved to Singapore, was sharing some of the things she heard while she was in Hong Kong about how powerfully God was moving in China. She gave some examples which made me want to laugh because it is exactly what this nameless home church I am part of is doing!
She also mentioned about a lady in Africa who is so close to God that many wonderful miracles happen there, in a slightly awed tone.
Why do people see God as a God of other people, other cultures, other countries and not dare to believe that the same God of Moses, the same God who heals paralytics, deaf, mute, the same God who does powerful miracles and redeem souls would do the same in their lives?
It makes me feel impatient with people, their disbelief.
It makes me annoyed as well. Because I am not as bold or as certain as my words may be, and this impatience others stir in me is forcing me out of the hole of timidity, of my lack of trust, my laziness.
Well.
I guess there's not much else to do but to step out in faith then.
My God is not a Western God.
My God is not for the rich and the healthy but for the sick and the lost.
My God is not made of rumours.
And I sure as heck have to stop being part of those who perpetuates all this!