We were greeted at the front door by one man (I reckoned he was the pastor, after seeing him delivered the sermon this afternoon), who saw me entering the church with my rolling walker. He thought my leg was injured. He said, "I am glad to have you here this Sunday" with a sincere smile. My load felt a bit lighter.
Enjoying any Sunday service has been a challenge for me ever since my body deteriorated. I couldn't focus my mind and heart to be fully in God's presence. I would keep worrying about having to stand up as we sing worship songs or taking sudden restroom breaks. And it didn't just stop right there. In the middle of praise and worship time, my anxious mind went on, have I gotten worse since I came here? Is it time for me to prescribe all those expensive medications? When do I start? Will they be effective? What if they don't work? I miss camera-operating at my old church in Melbourne. I was so energetic back then. Will my strength ever be restored? Can I still serve God?
Suddenly my distressing thoughts were interrupted. . .
Your strength indeed is smallI stopped my musing, looked up to the screen and realised they were singing one of my family's all-time-favourite worship songs. Throughout the years, that song has been our constant reminder of God's trustworthiness and faithfulness in meeting all our needs. If God has paid off our greatest debt (sin), how could and would He not meet our daily needs as well—which includes my health care?
Child of weakness, watch and pray
Find in Me, yours all in all
O praise the One who paid my debtI was so grateful to sing that song again this afternoon. Jesus paid it all, indeed.
And raised this life up from the dead!
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