About five weeks ago, I recorded two windows of time that I could travel to northern Borneo. I jotted down estimated airfare, calculated the number of weeks I could stay and have a unique amount for each of the unequal time period.
I then prayed that God in His sovereign way would show me which time I should fly, whether it is on May 19 or July 12. If the amount of money received is equal to or more than x which is linked to May 19, then I would leave on that date. However, if the amount received is equal to or more than y, which is significantly more than x, then I should leave on July 12 which is linked to y.
My intelligent youngest daughter, who is mathematical, asked what if the amount is more than or equal to x+y. Well, would it then not be clear cut that I would be going twice?
If by now you, my poor reader, is totally confused, read on: the rest of the blog has nothing much to do with complicated numbers.
Less than half an hour ago, my husband heard from his old friends that they have banked in some funds from overseas. The amount remitted clearly indicated that I should go on July 12. I thank God for these wonderful people.
This adventure started on the last Sunday of September, 1984. I walked down the aisle of a church in New Braunfels, Texas, fully convicted that I should accept Jesus as my personal saviour. As I was still walking, a thought asked: are you accepting me as your saviour or lord? I asked, what is lord? You should do as your lord asks you. Then, I said I would accept God as my Saviour and Lord. The thought went on to say, would you then be willing to go to a place with no pipe water or electricity supply with two bags to serve me? Without hesitation, I said yes.
Five years ago, after a series of improbable answers to specific prayers, I went to northern Borneo. First trip was to use a hotel voucher bought by my husband during a Christmas charity fund drive. Second trip was sponsored by my mum. The night after I returned from the second trip, I had a vivid dream in colours (most times I dream in black and white) which led to an interpretation that said: if you choose northern Borneo, I will give you a new life there. Of course I want a God-given new life. I therefore prayed and received a whole year's rental money. Next I prayed for an apartment at a rate well below market value and ended up renting a two-storey three-room house with a nice piece of land behind the house. I made a number of trips there to add enough things to make the empty house a home. On the last week of that calendar year, I found the job as a contract English teacher in a government college. Hence, after hearing a call in a dream the first trip, I had a dream promising me a new life there after the second trip. A year later, I had a job there. My eldest son chose to accompany me there to work as a special education tutor.
I was there two and a half years exactly when the door closed. My work permit expired. The land lord wanted to increase rental significantly, and God said return to Peninsular Malaysia. I stayed on long enough to move my son to a suite of two rooms. Gave away loads to things to a good friend's maid. I returned home to hospitalization and I fought to live. July 12, 2019 is a very meaningful date, I left the hospital exactly two years ago to the day. If you were to ask me: what next? I really cannot tell you. But I know that I could communicate with my would be illustrator to the will be published book and tell her the project is on.
Few weeks back, I was much privileged to meet up with an at least 35-year veteran missionary director who spent almost his entire working life in the far east working with the aborigines in North Borneo. He gave me long, long list of things to look out for and to do: if I will "run the marathon" in researching and preparing a book on the aborigines' children games. It will be a project that may take more than 10 years as my access to the really rural area is restricted. Anyway, wherever the hand phone coverage reaches, no children would play old games anymore. But he did say it is a very interesting assignment, if those games are to be recorded and published as a resource to be used as therapy for children with learning disabilities. I quipped that if the task takes 14 years, his answer is he still wants to buy a copy - it must be the first edition - when he is 75 years old. Interesting!
If you have been following this blog the last few years, you probably know that I claimed to be a dyslexic who first heard of the condition after age 21. For 12 years as my children were growing up in Silver City, I worked at home as a special education tutor. The following 12 years I was an unpaid listener to depressed and suicidal friends. I started recycling all sorts of things and stopped buying clothes or house hold things. According to my children, I prayed and received whatever I need. God is a very present help in my house. Folks in church either thought I was nuts or they cannot help but have respect for me. I am a graduate who is reasonably intellectual but I live a life that is simple to the point that is strange in this affluent society. For many years I have survived on one pair of slippers and another pair of formal shoes.
Here, I'll end with my favourite quotation : If you restrict earthly things, you set your thoughts free for the spiritual. Peter Hoeg in Miss Smilla's Feeling for Snow
No comments:
Post a Comment