… bobbing balloons …

You know that feeling when everything comes to a halt when balloons of new opportunities are being released into the great wild space.  You are holding the reigns of them all, or in fact it’s the Lord who are cupping my hand while I am holding the thin reins.  I look up and see the balloons bobbing away in the current of wild wind.

The balloons didn’t come as colourful as I once thought, but now, while paying attention to each of them.  They are filled with exuberant air-filled colours.  Isn’t that true that as your faith grows deeper, your ability of sensory grows wilder, your ability of pausing and framing a certain moments grows sharper?

When the balloons bobbing away in the air, I find myself simply taking in the scenary, the anticipation, the “unknown-by-me-but-known-by-Him”.  The timid prayers that I quietly murmurred in my heart for the past 4 years.  The prayer I could only whisper in the space of a passenger seat, secretly confiding with someone.  The prayer I could only utter in true honesty in the space of our clutching hands, tears carrying in a downward stream my anguish and yearning for a country.

Now those prayers have formed and shaped into several solid end-and-start dates!  An official end date is marked on the calendar to look forward to.  An unofficial start date somewhere down the line to fiddle around with!  Yet, from the get go, this is already in the slow brewing process of anticipation and preparation.  Little beknowst to us that all it takes is a surge of size-David type of faith to embrace the new ending {slash} starting “get set and go” whistle in this leg of the race.

It feels like a relay, which I always enjoy being in one.  The collaboration, the seamlessness of passing the baton from one blood-pumped into one adrenaline-filled.  The goal points to the same direction.  It’s a collaboration from one leg to the other.

From anticipating our lives taking a new turn into stepping into the practicum of planning our “dawn-to-midnight” waking hours.  All I could envision are the bobbing balloons.  The bobbing balloons are in full immersion of the wind, wherever the current blows, the balloons bob.

On a day like today, I am filled with assurance that as we surrender the desires of our heart to the Lord, and allow Him to untangle the anguishness and brokenness, those desires would translate into some wild map and directions, leading us into a complete turf of living for His Kingdom with a size-David armour.  Nothing with a label of the worldly measures, but with the spring of His joy and peace, with the posture of always leaning close to His heart, with the front stance of getting ready to shoot our first leap into the race, with the baton tightly held in our palms, blood pumping from one chamber to another, carrying sweet air into the left wing and the right wing, arms embracing your core in a compact but powerful motion forward. You are already in the race, holding nothing back, but to have your eyes set upon the goal.  In every split second as we run this race, I will remember documenting their observation, listening to the sizzler of their brain neurons connecting, arms and heart embracing their torso carrying a deep well of longing to be held and assured that they are safe, understood and accepted, by not only us, but also by their Maker.

One day, they may carry their own desires of the heart, even whispering and confiding secretly with someone, clutching their hands and pouring their desires into chants of wrestling prayers, waiting for their bobbing balloons!!

Future/Past

You hold the reins on the sun and the moon
Like horses driven by kings
You cover the mountains, the valleys below
With the breadth of your mighty wings

All treasures of wisdom and things to be known
Are hidden inside your hand
And in this fortunate turn of events
You ask me to be your friend
You ask me to be your friend

And you,
You are my first
You are my last
You are my future and my past

The constellations are swimming inside
The breadth of your desire
Where could I run, where could I hide
from your heart’s jealous fire

All treasures of wisdom and things to be known
Are hidden inside your hand
And in this fortunate turn of events
You ask me to be your friend
You ask me to be your friend

And you,
You are my first
You are my last
You are my future and my past

You are the beginning and the end

Psalm 118

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