Impromptu

We had our church camp 2 weeks ago. For a couple of months before that, we were trying frantically to get a speaker - everyone we tried were fully-booked, out of town, or exhausted their year's leave.

But at the 11th hour a very kind speaker said 'yes'.

I'll be there, and if not me, I'll send someone in my place. We were thrilled. Until the day of camp. My car was all packed with passengers' luggage and revving ready to go when the camp coordinator comes up to me and says, 'Dr. Yap, the camp speaker can't be found anywhere. He's not replying his emails and he's not answering his handphone. We might need you to take some sessions.'

My jaw dropped just long enough for it to turn into a smile without looking like an ape.

OK. I said. I'll think of something. So I went home and dug out materials I'd spoken or preached about before just in case.

Well, in the end, the speaker called up to say he was in London. His profuse apologies, he got the date right, only he thought the invitation was for year 2004! I took 2 sessions and our church elder took the other four. In spite of our unpreparedness, we all had a refreshing time. Some allocated sessions were exchanged for 'rest' - which I enjoyed thoroughly. And the impromptu talks blessed everyone.

This sort of thing could never happen in a city mega-church. Only in Kelantan. Yet His grace is sufficient in our weakness. We are keenly reminded of that.

Sometimes our lack of preparation can be an opportunity for God's control of the situation to shine through. He never lets His people down.

Action in Waiting

I like sitting around waiting for a plane or train. A short pause before a journey, the waiting can be very re-creative.

Rather symbolic of putting behind the past and forging ahead to a new day. All shapes and sizes of people - scurrying, waltzing, fiercely quarrelling - pass by, coming from somewhere far away and going off another place.

And I must wait.

So many thoughts, feelings, inner movements previously suppressed comes to surface while the suffocated noise of the day subsides in the quietude of waiting.

I guess that's how the rich journals of Wesley and the writings of Hudson Taylor were made. On the click-clocks of horseback-riding and the vast ebb and flow of the Pacific Ocean.

What a difference an hour can make.

Such moments are difficult to come by. Hard to create when we live in such tight routines defined by effectiveness, results and ISO standards. How fast can I perform a tonsillectomy? How much medical writing can I do in the 2 hours after my clinic and before my evening exercise? How many patients can I see in the 3 hour clinic I run? How much text can I cover in my 3 hour study time at night? Etc. Etc. It is simply impossible to find that 'door' that is the path of return to the heart and to God.

Moments like these are like the title of Christopher Blumhardt's book - Action in Waiting