It’s been about a year since the worst period of my life started to fade back into normalcy. I learnt so much through the pain and the anguish I endured, things I could never have learnt had God let me continue breezing through life unscathed. I learnt how to see the never-dimming light through the trials and to always believe in the hope of a miracle.
But then I got better. And when this happened it was the crowning glory of my entire journey, the proof, as it were, of God’s miraculous healing power that is still in effect today. But time goes on, and I realised something extremely strange:
I had nothing to say to God any more.
Of course I thanked him for healing me and bringing me out from the pit during the first few months of my recovery. I thanked him every time I did something I could not have imagined doing when I was sick. But it seemed to stop there. I was only thanking him. I had nothing to petition him for, it seemed.
There are no hardships in my life currently at all. I have finished school and university entrance exams are only in the last few months of the year. I am at home relaxing and unemployed for now. I am free from pain and sickness. I am not suffering at all. If I were to use the metaphor of life being an ocean, right now the waves are absolutely still. Nothing’s rocking my boat.
So in experiencing this I started to wonder: what emotion do I put into my worship? Is it simply thanksgiving? Because strangely enough, that felt insufficient. There was something yet lacking, if I only came to God to thank him and not to ask him for help. I felt as if I needed something to go wrong in my life so that I could once again cry out for God to fix it. I felt as if I were doing something wrong, living day to day without actually needing God to bring me out of misery. It felt oddly misplaced to be living in peace and calm when I had come out of the storm.
Then God spoke to me during a time of worship, and suddenly I knew what I had to do now in this season of my life.
In this time in which I am experiencing no troubles, I have to seek out pain in other people’s lives. When I pray, instead of asking for help for myself, I now have to intercede for others. Right now I have no discernible troubles, but that does not mean the world is all roses. The world is messed up, and there are people around me experiencing pain I might not even know about at this point. But now it is my ministry, my assignment as it were, for me to reach out to these people from a place of joy and sow hope into their lives, being with them and being a living testimony to the fact that they are not alone and that they will come out of this. In this way I must help them to heal, and pray for them where before I would pray for myself.
This is not going to be easy. I am not a people-person by nature, definitely not one of those charismatic people you’re drawn to instantly. I even lean towards selfishness and the mindset of ‘every man for himself’ in my cynical times. But somehow I have to learn to fine-tune my sensitivity, to become more understanding of troubles I have no way of relating to. I have to wake up to what’s going around in the lives of others, instead of constantly thinking about myself. I have to learn to put others first and express genuine care and concern for them. I am introverted, task-oriented thinker, which seems to be the exact opposite of a person you would want to be with you through a hard time. But somehow I’ll have to make this work. Now I have another thing to pray for help about.
I don’t know how many people can relate to this, even. I don’t even know if it’s possible for many people nowadays to actually be in the situation I am in, that of a life void of hardships. Everyone seems too busy to be able to enjoy this luxury. But regardless of whether this is relatable or not, at least it solidifies in my mind what I now need to do.
I am to help people heal.
It is a terrifying idea, but a beautiful prospect, isn’t it?