changes

there's a murmur and the sound of occasional flipping of magazine pages from the other room. i'm still feeling a tad overfed from the big bowl laksa, tea and soya bean milk. my heart sits quietly, racing but still, in comfortable peace as it recovers from the conversation in the deep blue. how many days and months has it been? it feels like a long time ago since i sat at the feet of a warrior, listening to courage, smell the killer instinct and resolve few dare to dream of, and be inspired. it is a privilege I am constantly grateful for.

"that's why i look up to you..."

these are moments when time stands still, my world and all the distracting noise shuts up. and i find my bearing as my attention is commanded, captured and contained. it's like finding respect for the first time, to stand in awe of a giant, realizing that there are some ordinary people who are larger than life. that these saints and legends do exist and I am standing in the turn of tide and time, witnessing the harnessing power of the Father at work, watching His fingerprints marked all over our humanity, His grace, hope, faith demonstrated in the ones considered to be the least by the world's standards.

"you won't change, i know you won't..."

my hands reached out in love, to share in the pain, to share in the resolve, to give honour like a military gun salute. i watch in amazement, taking in the moment, listening to every nuance, taking mental notes, following the step and rhythm of this raw diamond in the cut. i held my breath and my tears and let it sink in, the healing, etching one more brush stroke onto my tainted canvas.

"i'm proud of you my brother..."

it's strange but when i consider the long nights, the repeated prayers, the stubborn belief, the thick skin resolve, it occurred to me that my trust in my sovereign God isn't that misplaced. That He strings it altogether, in His time, cos we are not quite His story yet. Cos we are still learning and breaking all the time. He is still big enough for our stuff up, screw ups and stiff shit.

And as I remove the bandage from my wrist, I'm learning that, Father knows best.