God is good.

Hello there!

Today was the third Sunday of December, and quite eventful. Church this morning was hectic - worship practice at 9 (which ended up starting late), choir practice at 9:45 (which also ended up starting late), service during which I played what I thought was dismal guitar music, and then the music presentation. Throughout all this, I had a sore throat from the night before the last, so it kiiind of wasn't the easiest. I find at times it can be easy to let all of this be part of my schedule for the day. To let the duties happen just so that something else can be checked off of my list of things to do. But while actually playing that guitar and singing those songs...there was just something there. A flicker of joy and thirst. A need to release the outburst in my heart into song for Him. It's just (this is most definitely understated) nice, you know? When we pray for Him to let it all be for Him and for Him to be the first in our hearts...it happens.

Same with on Friday for our English congregation's Christmas celebration. I was undergoing so much anxiety from music practice...the last run-through felt like it couldn't have gone any more unorganized and un-together. The last run through which happened to be right before the celebration was starting. My fingers didn't feel confident on the strings of that Yamaha and those stupid F chords!!! F#m, F#, F, etc...I cannot for the life of me play a good bar chord under pressure. But I was talking to Gab afterwards about how the actual thing was really not bad at all, and as I was thinking about it later that night and the next day, I remembered how I had prayed previous to going up on that stage that same thing: that it should all be for Him in our hearts. And I distinctly remember the difference in quality of the music emanating from the guitar when I let go of all of the apprehensive distress and gave it to Him. And that beautifully familiar feeling of utter joy flowing from out of my heart. Ahh. God is so good.

I was fortunate enough today to have the opportunity to partake in two different events of Communion at two different churches. The first was in the morning at my own church, Calgary Chinese Baptist Church. The second was in the evening at S.N.O.W. (which takes place every third Sunday of the month at Crescent Heights Baptist Church just off of Center St). In the Word it reads somewhere (I can't find it!!=\) that one must not partake in the breaking of the bread and the drinking of the blood when not in the right state. Sometimes (shh:P) at CCBC I cheat and don't eat and drink at the same time as everyone else...I really feel like I have to have the right state of mind and heart first. "This is the body of Christ, broken for you" "This is the blood of Christ, poured out for you" - the Communion is so sacred. I feel that one should be able to take the bread and the cup when one feels ready, not so much timed for when everyone of the baptized sons and daughters in the congregation has received their portions. At S.N.O.W., Pastor John made a clear explanation of why some who didn't understand the meaning of the communion should not partake. Not that they are excluded, but that they would be taking part in something that is sacred, and by not understanding the implications, it would not be right for them to do so. That being said, those who desired to take the Communion were invited to go to the plate holding the loaf and the bowl holding His blood, at the time they felt ready.

I remember the day I realized why the bread was to be broken before eating it, and the blood poured. His body was broken for us on the day of the Crucifixion, and His blood poured from his endless wounds. This symbolism was so great and so vast to me. It is a mystery for me at times to see that there are still people of this world that don't accept His sacrificial gift to us. And to see the beauty in the world around us, and still not believe. The beauty of the trees, the skies, the breezes and all of nature, yes, but also the beauty in a mother happily making snorting sounds into her laughing baby's cheeks, in a young person quietly giving up their seat for an elderly lady getting onto the bus, in an older brother holding his little brother's hand as they walk towards an ice cream shop to share a treat.

I always remember these words:

I get lost in the beauty
Of everything I see
The world ain't half as bad
As they paint it to be
For the Sons and the Daughters
That stop to take it in
Well then hopefully the hate subsides
And the love can begin

-Come Home, One Republic ft. Sara Bareilles

Praise the Lord, oh my soul, praise the Lord.