Sunday, September 11, 2005
Of Prayer, Paddy and Philippians
This picture was taken some weeks ago; I cannot remember exactly when, but it was on a Friday morning in August. I had intended to write a poem about it, something along the lines of 'morning prayer', but in the end composed the following:
Tufts of downy fluff, strewn over
Meadows in the height of summer,
Picked by the casual observer.
Glimmering in the golden sun,
Diamond rays through feathery heads run
Into the prayer to the Only One.
Blown apart, its death is gain,
Scattered on stone and grass and muddy lane
The joyful flower may sing again.
This will probably be my last post for awhile, as the final exams are drawing very near: last week of September, to be precise.
Earlier, in the morning, I was looking at the Best Debater trophy I won last year; I noticed a paddy and hibiscus motif on the pewter, and wondered, why paddy?
The old Malay proverb struck me -- ikutlah resam padi; semakin berisi, semakin tunduk. I think C.S. Lewis' words at the end of The Weight of Glory translate this maxim best: there are some burdens so great, only humility can carry them.
I also recalled Jars of Clay's words in their song 'Jealous Kind': "...breaks the back of foolish pride..."
Oh well, just a random thought inspired by one of the most uninspiring plants a trophy can bear. (Indeed, I still wonder why POS Malaysia doesn't get rid of the uber-ubiquitous 30 sen padi stamp and replace it with something more interesting).
I've decided to 'study' the book of Philippians throughout whatever is left of this month. Some of my favourite Steven Curtis Chapman songs, such as 'Hold on to Jesus' and 'His Strength is Perfect' were inspired by verses from that book.
Also, I remember most of us never finished it during Quiet Time at d'NA last year, due to God's unexpected, dramatic visit wrapped in petal showers of blessing and joy borne upon a gusty wind of encouragement and hope.
On a sarcastic note, Paul wrote it while he was in prison; I am reading it in the student equivalent. Or at least, that's what the exams feel like to me: a prison sentence.
My father has just given me a thorough scolding. Even as I type this very sentence, I don't know what to think. I was supposed to be in bed 17 minutes ago. I'd better get going now.
I'd have left Form Six a long time ago if not for the Christian Union and Editorial Board. All that keeps me here is the knowledge that there is something unfinished; a divine conspiracy that hasn't worked its full course yet.
Posted by SimianD at 10:48 PM