NSCF 6: I Surrender All

NS
Originally uploaded by mincaye.

Name: Benjamin Ong
Camp: Pinggiran Pelangi, Muadzam Shah, Pahang

Name: Darryl Chong
Camp: KK di bawah Bayu, Tuaran, Sabah

Interesting camp names, no? The 'edge of the rainbow' and 'beneath the mist.' Almost surreal, and yet, the experience at National Service was anything but magical.

One lesson I learnt through much pain and trial this year was that of sacrifice. I will remember the bridge and chorus lyrics of Steven Curtis Chapman's 'For the Sake of the Call':

Not for the sake of a creed or a cause
Not for a dream or a promise
Simply because it is Jesus who calls
And if we believe we'll obey
And we'll answer...

We will abandon it all
For the sake of the call
No other reason at all
But the sake of the call
Wholly devoted to live and to die
For the sake of the call


When we are called to sacrifice unto God, it is often easier said than done, especially in the area of our gifts. God has given me a powerful mind, and that I do not--cannot--deny. But can I, like Paul, truly say I count it loss for the sake of the gospel?

This year, I also learnt an important word: no. Being an avid writer and a rather well-known personality in school, I was approached by various parties seeking my assistance/service in various projects.

Thing is, I actually liked the offers. I found them good opportunities to make full use of my talents and interests. But then to accept all would be to spread myself too thin--it would have been suicidal.

So I passed on many chances to do great things, and discovered a few callings along the way. I am called to study to the best of my abilities; I am called to lead my editorial board in righteousness and good ethic; I am called to serve the brethren of the Christian Union faithfully in my capacity as committee advisor.

Even Shueh-Yi had a similar experience: she quit the Seri Bintang Utara cheerleading squad--for several years the best in the country--because it simply took up too much of her time.


I suppose opportunity always knocks, but we have every right not to open the door, and focus instead on the few things to which we have been called, that we may do them well for God's glory.

In Lewis Wallace's masterpiece, 'Ben-Hur,' the character Gaspar (one of the Magi) says:

"When I think of the purpose I am sent to fulfil, there is in me a joy so inexpressible that I know the will is God's."

The things that give me the greatest joy, I know without a doubt to be the path of the will of God. But that is not to say that all will always be well, for there will be trials to test and strengthen faith.

At NSCF, we read the first few chapters of Daniel for our morning devotions. I found to be particularly stirring, the stand of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, when told to worship the king's statue:

"Our God is able to save us from the fire. But know, O king, that even if he doesn't, we will not bow down."

Maybe this is where the cost of sacrifice really shows. We often rest confident that God will provide, so our assurance is something along the lines of, "If God has called me to be a missionary, he will protect and provide."

But what if God does not? What if he doesn't save us from the fire? Will we still follow?


Out of many struggles with questions such as this, has my faith emerged over the last few months. It began with NS, where I learnt to die to self and live in the care of God. Cut off from Christian community, I had to come to terms with the darkest depths of my heart.

And then it continued into Lower Six. I am learning, little by little, to live as a Christ apprentice in the daily routine of what seems to many a path of drudgery--bringing life to an arid desert.

In all of this, I claim a promise of God's that Paul experienced firsthand:

"My grace is sufficient for you; my strength is made perfect in weakness."

The unforced rhythms of grace have been shaping me, breaking me, building me over the last few months, with an intensity I never before knew. And the journey is just beginning; there's more to come!


I would like to share from the chorus of the Clay Crosse song, 'I Surrender All' (which I might have quoted before in a previous entry, but never mind that--it still speaks), written by Regie Hamm and David Moffitt:

I surrender all
My silent hopes and dreams
Though the price to follow
Costs me everything
I surrender all
My human soul desires
If sacrifice requires
That all my kingdoms fall
I surrender all

Reflecting on this, it's so hard to sacrifice all my kingdoms, my silent hopes and dreams. It is to relinquish my self-made sense of purpose, to let my passions fall to the ground--and let God replace them with his.

But that is the Lord's call, for when we pray, "Thy kingdom come," we are not referring to some future rule of God's kingdom, nor are we speaking of some disconnected heavenly realm.

Nay, we are saying, as Willard would put it, "God, let my kingdoms fall, and build Thine in their place." So it is that Matthew adds, "Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven."


At the end of it, I don't think we were ever meant to build all those kingdoms. Maybe that's why so many people are haggard and drawn, chasing after dreams and that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

But to live carefree in the care of God, as Peterson puts it, means enjoying the rainbow and the mist while it lasts, giving thanks to the Giver of all things for the halcyon pleasure.

The physical effects are notable; I do feel more youthful lately, and it's great taking each step as it comes, leaving the unanswerables to the Creator, and being content with being his apprentice.

There is only one Master, and he is not me.