I Love New York X RWC
The song that perfectly sums up this past week in Manhattan: I Gotta Feeling- Black Eyed Peas.
I gotta feeling, tonight's gonna be a good night.
I already know this post will start in New York City and will be published in Toronto so here goes:
Life in transition.
This past week in NYC I've been dividing my time between spending time with friends and packing.
My parents came and took all my belongings away back to a home whose history hasn't been touched since I left for New York. Suddenly all the memories that are so inextricably part of objects will be in a new setting, a new environment.
Moving was difficult. I'm a pack rat: either I see potential in some stuff be it ribbon, paper, or a lightbulb so I keep it for future art projects. However the case usually is that I become attached to an object due to its ability to evoke some memory I had when coming into contact with it. It's as small and stupid as a hotel card key that I used when my mom came to visit me two years ago, March.
Walking around this city with the full knowledge that I may not be back for a while felt so different. While in the past I would act as if New York City is forever, I've come to realize my expiry date. Everything seemed different, everything seemed important:
Church
During Christmas 2005 prior to my departure to New York as a freshman at Parsons, an uncle who I was just introduced to told me, "New York is big. In New York not only will you be physically lost, but you'll lose your soul."
.................
That's exactly what I wanted to hear as a high school graduate going to the Big Apple alone.
Fast forward four years later, this past Sunday I worshiped for the last time at my church in NYC. I walked into the new auditorium that our church is now located in: unfamiliar, different, memory-less. At the start of worship I already began to tear up: the very thing I considered a normal every Sunday event would be no more. I felt silly but the sentimentality that I felt for this church just all rolled out at that moment. Nothing beats RWC worship: the music was what attracted me as a newcomer three years ago. Yet as we worshiped, I realized that though I'd be 12 hours ahead in a week's time, we are still worshiping the very same God and in the future, we'll all meet again in somewhere more glorious than this place.
The guest speaker spoke about the storms in our lives: where most of us tread water to just get by, he encouraged us to turn to Jesus for help.
Isn't that funny, that the song I've been meditating on was Casting Crown's 'Praise You in the Storm' the past week?
The pastor invited people who needed intecessory prayer, to come to the front at the end of the service. I felt compelled to speak to our pastor, whom I rarely talk to, to ask for prayer.
Approaching the front, I started talking to him but I was so emotional I cracked and started crying uncontrollably (must have looked like I was freaking out). I know that this is a gift from God: a job in the midst of financial uncertainty and crisis. I also go into Hong Kong with the full knowledge that God will be present, with a purpose for me to be there and that home is not found in people but in Him. Yet I couldn't help weep in front of my pastor. Because I realized how deeply I love this church. This past semester I've come to know what it is to be in one mind, spirit and heart with the body of Christ. It's odd because while my church in Toronto is 'dissolving' due to certain demanding individuals who constantly nitpick and complain about the way service is run, I've come to realize the danger in simply being the Christian critic. Because I used to be one: I used to criticize RWC for the rather charismatic sermons yet God's really changed me somehow this past year. Whatever the church has been addressing this year in the sermons, I've been meditating on a couple weeks prior to its occurence. It's not prophecy but just 'oneness' with the church. It's kinda hard to explain but whatever I'm struggling with or savouring in my devotionals, are in sync with church sermons/issues. I often blog about it and then after the Sunday passes by go, "hey I just blogged about that last week!"
Anyway the point is that in observing my church in Toronto and the destructive individuals who are breaking up the community, it is a warning that ANY OF US can be one of those people: take a back seat, soak up and criticize makes you no better than them.
Birdwalk. Anyway.
So he placed his hands on my head and shoulders as I sat there crying uncontrollably for... no good reason other than I was just sad to leave, and began to pray for me. For the peace of God to reign in my heart.
I then decided to speak to one of my ex Small Group members whom bestowed, I think, is the nicest parting gift ever:
as I wrote in the past, I've been searching for my spiritual gift this year, without certainty of what it is. She shared with me (randomly) that she thought that I had the gift of hospitality. Because of the pains of trying to fit into a church I've had for so many years, after settling in RWC, I knew what it was like to be the 'newcomer' and tried to make people at home. She said to me, "even though you never felt like you had a real physical home, God gave you the gift of hospitality to make people feel at home wherever you may go."
She even friggin quoted a verse I used from my testimony about Christians being foreigners of this world... I was really awed at her memory of my baptismal testimony.
With the knowledge of this, I knew that the many tears I've cried and the loneliness I felt for so many years particularly freshman year where I'd go and leave church alone every single week, was worth it. Because I know what it feels like.
And in knowing this, I know that HK will be better: even though this time I may be the newcomer, I now know what to do. At least better than my eighteen year old self.
A girl from the Parsons SG wrote me a letter and in it she recalled the first day of SG in my junior year:
we were told to draw out our feelings and perspective on the church. She remembered that I drew a wall with me on one side peering into the other side which consisted of a group of people. I explained, as she wrote, that I felt I was the observer looking in on the body of the church unable to participate or fit in. She saw me crumble in the past two years and saw in my brokenness, find healing in God.
I was so surprised and impressed she remembered that because I totally forgot about that incident some two years ago. It was as if that memory was a benchmark of how much I've grown since then.
Looking back, I realized that uncle who told me I'd lose my soul in NY, was wrong. In a city where people come in search for money, for love, for fame, I found God.
Dang it, You're so good!
Now back in TO and listening to: Broken-Lifehouse
I'll leave this portion with a verse my roommate and I were coincidentally meditating on around the same time:
Hebrews 11
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.
I gotta feeling, tonight's gonna be a good night.
I already know this post will start in New York City and will be published in Toronto so here goes:
Life in transition.
This past week in NYC I've been dividing my time between spending time with friends and packing.
My parents came and took all my belongings away back to a home whose history hasn't been touched since I left for New York. Suddenly all the memories that are so inextricably part of objects will be in a new setting, a new environment.
Moving was difficult. I'm a pack rat: either I see potential in some stuff be it ribbon, paper, or a lightbulb so I keep it for future art projects. However the case usually is that I become attached to an object due to its ability to evoke some memory I had when coming into contact with it. It's as small and stupid as a hotel card key that I used when my mom came to visit me two years ago, March.
Walking around this city with the full knowledge that I may not be back for a while felt so different. While in the past I would act as if New York City is forever, I've come to realize my expiry date. Everything seemed different, everything seemed important:
Church
During Christmas 2005 prior to my departure to New York as a freshman at Parsons, an uncle who I was just introduced to told me, "New York is big. In New York not only will you be physically lost, but you'll lose your soul."
.................
That's exactly what I wanted to hear as a high school graduate going to the Big Apple alone.
Fast forward four years later, this past Sunday I worshiped for the last time at my church in NYC. I walked into the new auditorium that our church is now located in: unfamiliar, different, memory-less. At the start of worship I already began to tear up: the very thing I considered a normal every Sunday event would be no more. I felt silly but the sentimentality that I felt for this church just all rolled out at that moment. Nothing beats RWC worship: the music was what attracted me as a newcomer three years ago. Yet as we worshiped, I realized that though I'd be 12 hours ahead in a week's time, we are still worshiping the very same God and in the future, we'll all meet again in somewhere more glorious than this place.
The guest speaker spoke about the storms in our lives: where most of us tread water to just get by, he encouraged us to turn to Jesus for help.
Isn't that funny, that the song I've been meditating on was Casting Crown's 'Praise You in the Storm' the past week?
The pastor invited people who needed intecessory prayer, to come to the front at the end of the service. I felt compelled to speak to our pastor, whom I rarely talk to, to ask for prayer.
Approaching the front, I started talking to him but I was so emotional I cracked and started crying uncontrollably (must have looked like I was freaking out). I know that this is a gift from God: a job in the midst of financial uncertainty and crisis. I also go into Hong Kong with the full knowledge that God will be present, with a purpose for me to be there and that home is not found in people but in Him. Yet I couldn't help weep in front of my pastor. Because I realized how deeply I love this church. This past semester I've come to know what it is to be in one mind, spirit and heart with the body of Christ. It's odd because while my church in Toronto is 'dissolving' due to certain demanding individuals who constantly nitpick and complain about the way service is run, I've come to realize the danger in simply being the Christian critic. Because I used to be one: I used to criticize RWC for the rather charismatic sermons yet God's really changed me somehow this past year. Whatever the church has been addressing this year in the sermons, I've been meditating on a couple weeks prior to its occurence. It's not prophecy but just 'oneness' with the church. It's kinda hard to explain but whatever I'm struggling with or savouring in my devotionals, are in sync with church sermons/issues. I often blog about it and then after the Sunday passes by go, "hey I just blogged about that last week!"
Anyway the point is that in observing my church in Toronto and the destructive individuals who are breaking up the community, it is a warning that ANY OF US can be one of those people: take a back seat, soak up and criticize makes you no better than them.
Birdwalk. Anyway.
So he placed his hands on my head and shoulders as I sat there crying uncontrollably for... no good reason other than I was just sad to leave, and began to pray for me. For the peace of God to reign in my heart.
I then decided to speak to one of my ex Small Group members whom bestowed, I think, is the nicest parting gift ever:
as I wrote in the past, I've been searching for my spiritual gift this year, without certainty of what it is. She shared with me (randomly) that she thought that I had the gift of hospitality. Because of the pains of trying to fit into a church I've had for so many years, after settling in RWC, I knew what it was like to be the 'newcomer' and tried to make people at home. She said to me, "even though you never felt like you had a real physical home, God gave you the gift of hospitality to make people feel at home wherever you may go."
She even friggin quoted a verse I used from my testimony about Christians being foreigners of this world... I was really awed at her memory of my baptismal testimony.
With the knowledge of this, I knew that the many tears I've cried and the loneliness I felt for so many years particularly freshman year where I'd go and leave church alone every single week, was worth it. Because I know what it feels like.
And in knowing this, I know that HK will be better: even though this time I may be the newcomer, I now know what to do. At least better than my eighteen year old self.
A girl from the Parsons SG wrote me a letter and in it she recalled the first day of SG in my junior year:
we were told to draw out our feelings and perspective on the church. She remembered that I drew a wall with me on one side peering into the other side which consisted of a group of people. I explained, as she wrote, that I felt I was the observer looking in on the body of the church unable to participate or fit in. She saw me crumble in the past two years and saw in my brokenness, find healing in God.
I was so surprised and impressed she remembered that because I totally forgot about that incident some two years ago. It was as if that memory was a benchmark of how much I've grown since then.
Looking back, I realized that uncle who told me I'd lose my soul in NY, was wrong. In a city where people come in search for money, for love, for fame, I found God.
Dang it, You're so good!
Now back in TO and listening to: Broken-Lifehouse
I'll leave this portion with a verse my roommate and I were coincidentally meditating on around the same time:
Hebrews 11
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.
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