Why did I stop writing?

Last night, I had a dream about funeral.
I woke up around two, I turned off the AC and tried to push away that image from my mind and went back to sleep.

Lately the death topic came to me quite often. Two days ago I was wondering, if one day I die, what will happen to the memories I've been keeping all my life? What will happen to all the pictures I have, to those dozens of my journal, my 'map hidup', my grateful jar, even the photo frame with the ones that became strangers to me once more. Just how long will they keep it before all those things become painful enough for them to see, or when will they donate my stuffs, or throw it, or even burn it? Hahaha I don't see this in a sense of melancholy, I'm just simply curious.

And sometimes I wonder, when a dreamer like me, dies, what will happen to the dreams?

The dreams I've kept inside of me, all these ideas, all of these random thoughts, the thought of changing the world, the hope to make the world a better place

Will they die with me?
Will they bury me with all of those things?

How long will it take for my story to be completely forgotten?

I realized a long time ago to leave a legacy using my words, for words will remain and it will speak what's inside my head, even though maybe I can't pour it all out, you may see a glimpse how I see this world, how I perceive this life, and how these ideas will remain even though I'm gone.

And because of that, now, I start writing again.....

Before that, earlier tonight I just spoke with my friends how different I really am than who I really was last year. I guess I've missed this weird side of me, my own sense of wonder, and such things. How do I know? By reading all those pieces I wrote last year, whether it's just a tweet, a blog post, or even a journal entry. I realized how different my life was. How different things were......

I began to realize how I don't write anymore.

I don't write on my journals anymore. Or even a blog post. Or even make a descent essay for the task my lecturer has given me. How I barely read right now. (and it's probably affecting me).

I simply stopped writing. I stopped splattering my words around.

Is it actually a big deal? Yes.... and no. Yes, because writing has been the only thing I know other than  drawing since my kindergarten days. No, because I don't think I'm a good writer. Yes, because if I don't write I can go mad and all these words will be jumbled up in my head. No, because even I can't write properly and my words will always be messily arranged and still jumbled on the page.

And if I ever trace back my life, I think the one of the reasons why I started writing again was because of him. I remember I bought a journal again the very first day he left. I think what they say is actually true, missing someone can actually be a great thing for a writer. I wrote, and I wrote, and I wrote. Dozens of blog post, hundreds of day writing (with the day 1 - day 200ish), months that turned into years, and a lot of journals 'til I stopped counting, and stopped waiting, and then...... stopped writing.

Because, that was probably the last thing I needed, to dedicate anything for anyone who will never dedicate anything to me.

But the reason was actually really wrong, and I can actually prove it wrong...... How stupid it is to stop writing simply because of that? I know I will always write because that's just how I really am....

I'm a storyteller, and I will always be.

I will always pour out my life on the page, express my feelings using the combination of 26 letters, and fill this book of life with memories.

I'm going to invent the story and then write it, 'til I'm forever gone and all that remain......


are

words.

It was never random.



I knocked the door. Knock, knock, then silently I came to the room. There she was, a middle age woman, with short hair. She smiled patiently and she asked me to sit down. Then I sat, nervously.

It was my interview day. 

 I didn't know what to expect, then she took the papers - my essay, form, and all the papers which contained everything she needed to know about me. She spoke in Bahasa, even though you can tell she's not Indonesian,

"Tell me, how's your journey until now you're here?"

Journey. Ah, that word.

At first, my words stumbled as I tried to speak. I took the deep breath, I remember I couldn't stop talking 'til the next 20 minutes, trying my best to sum up my life in one simple story.

"It started with a dream", I said. Though I don't remember it vividly and year after year, the memories started to blur. I think I was four or five when I actually had that dream, when I was dreaming that I woke up in my mommy's house when she was a child, and when I walked out the door, I saw a huge grass field and I saw Someone came to me, a man. I don't remember if it was a voice or if it was just a realization that, .... that Man...... is, A Savior. That was my first encounter to ever know I needed a Savior. My mom was surprised because as long she could remember, she never taught me about it.

When I was five, my big sister joined an event called Youthcamp, I never knew until one day I found the book about the event, basically just the information, the rundown, the daily devotion, and all. It didn't interest me enough unless except a simple comic (though now I forget the story anyway) - but all I concerned about was ...... I knew that how my campus life would be like one day.

I was eight when I simply decided which university and which major I would love to attend. Such a huge decision for a kid. I didn't even have strong excuses back then, maybe I just followed some older people's opinions. I don't remember. Maybe I chose graphic design as simple as I didn't want to be an artist. Maybe I chose UPH simply because my sister attended there.

And of course, as life happened and people did grow up. Slowly I was no longer the church-girl. I was being a hypocrite. I learned the curse words. I left the sunday school when I was ten and joined the adult sunday service. I refused to join the youth ministry, simply because I thought it was so exclusive. And as people change, I've learned that dreams do change, sometimes. I remember when I refused when mom asked me to study abroad. But few years after that, when I had a heartbreak, I remember that study overseas was the only I have ever wanted. Even though I didn't have strong enough reasons. I was so stubborn about that goal. I attended so many education expos (the reason why I still have so many emails from agencies now. Meh) and I had my little research. Mum even tried to open a new bank account for her and Mama to save the money for me to study abroad.

But.
God.
Has.
Another.
Plan.

From a funny coincidence I got the application form to UPH. One simple thing led to another, from Mum took me and all the conversations I had with my sister, then to the night I found out I got the scholarship. Stubborn me, I tried to apply to another uni, and I got accepted there. I was happy at first. I thought I could use UPH as back-up plan as I planned to try the scholarship for another uni in different countries. But somehow, I've never managed to do it. And mum told me to accept UPH instead and she said that even if I had the scholarship to study abroad, my parents couldn't afford the living cost. I.... was... so .... disappointed. And mad. I spent my holiday after the national exam feeling so redundant and I constantly put the blame to myself for not being brave enough to try the scholarship or even be determined enough.

I felt that emptiness for months until brand new start seemed so good to me. I needed a new page, for whatever's sake! I tried to be excited enough with all the changes that happened to my life, with the new house, new room, new environment, new school, new friends and all. "Hey, maybe this is the time when my life will truly begin!". I planned to decorate my room, to paint my new room and buy all the cute stuffs for my room. I planned to be Somebody, maybe it's time to do all those Y.O.L.O things I've always wanted to do.

But it was on Friday, one day before the closing ceremony of the festival, when I heard about Students Fellowship. It was when a video was being played, a vintage theme video, and then a random verse came out : "You did not choose me, but I chose you".

Ouch.

Ouch, ouch. Ouch. I gasped. My mind went back and forth to my holiday how I felt redundant, empty, regret after my decision to choose UPH. "God, is that You speaking? Is it true that You already chose me? Is it true that it was never a coincidence for me to be here?". That day, I went to the booth (to be honest my mentor didn't allow me to go far from him but I sneaked out for a little while) and I registered myself for the youthcamp. The same event my sister attended 13 years before me. That, same, event.

It's funny to ever look back and see how God works in your life. I remember that 1,5 months later until I came to the registration booth again to check my name (and funny to see my name now on the registration book now). I don't understand why I still attended it anyway even when I almost didn't know anyone. I didn't even have a room-mate (and now they're close friends of mine). It's funny to think how I tried to run away from God because I didn't want my life to be 'that' holy and the very next year I'm the head. It's funny how last year, my head didn't even allow to be youthcamp committee, and now here I am, becoming the steering committee. Funny enough?

I didn't remember how my interview ended. But I never ever forget that one question. To ever look back and realize that it was never random. It was never random when I found the event book fifteen years ago. It was never random to plan and now here I am, with the same major (that currently I am struggling with) and with the same university I chose when I was eight. It was never random that Ethan was born and I couldn't study overseas. It was never random to even had a heartbreak and tried to go my own way to realize that God has better plan than I could ever have imagined of. It was never random when my mentor said that I could never run from God's calling. It was never random when my senior made joke how I would 'carry the cross' at this campus. It was never random how God put people in my life, and all the experiences that I went through to make me the person who I am today.

I know that some people didn't expect me to be a leader. I'm pretty sure if they could recommend anyone I don't think my name would pop up into their heads. Because I know myself enough to know how selfish, careless, and unqualified I really am. I always ran from God, being Jonah when it came to His calling but I've made a commitment post-youthcamp last year to never run. I always gave up yet I've made a promise to my kids that I will never give up on them. I know how I don't deserve this. And even if I was being arrogant enough, I never thought that I could actually be trusted with this position. Letting God to shape me has been a life-changing experience. These past few months I've gone further than I could ever think of. I've stumbled. I've failed and I've failed big time and I've let down those people around me. I've made wrong decisions. Sometimes I even sacrifice those around me even though I know it's completely wrong. I've learned even though sometimes the learning process is quite painful. I know it's not because God intended it to be that way..... but He has been faithful, despite how unfaithful I could be. Yes, I'm not proud of this, but I've messed up quite a lot.

But...... to ever get down on my knees and pray. To be trusted to lead His people. To actually get the privilege to serve Him, even when I know I don't deserve this. To raise my hand without caring how the world sees me and praise Him anyway no matter how I feel. To hold the vision and even share the vision. To have a family and a home to go back to ........... To actually experience something called campus ministry like this.......

I am grateful.

If I ever look back and remember all those times I felt my life was useless, I've learned that God actually has a purpose in my life. If I ever look back and remember how many times I ever felt like I didn't have friends, now everytime I laugh out loud I'm grateful that I have a family. If I ever read again my blog post and journal about how indecisive I was to pick the university, now it all makes sense.

And that's something to hold on to. To know that God's in charge. No matter how I feel. No matter how I try to run. It's not that easy, actually. Sometimes it's hard to see from where I'm standing. Sometimes it's really hard that I can't do anything but cry. Sometimes I even wonder why I did this and why did I even bother from the very start. Sometimes I even wonder if anything I do will actually give impact. Well, I can laugh now to see why I was so worried and that's something to remember now if I can't figure out something. To understand that this whole journey is never actually about me, and never because of me, is something to remember when I start to do anything by my own strength. To remember that it takes a long process to grow whenever I start to get frustrated if I don't see any results. To realize that how small I put God in my boxes and how big He really is, how sometimes I just think something only for one year my period, when God is a God of eternal and He has better things that last a lifetime. To ever look back and realize what God has done....... Not me, but Him.

Now... for you, for whoever who's reading this, do you ever believe that God has a plan for you? That it was never random for you to ever read this. Do you realize that it's all by His grace?

I challenge you to look back and realize.....


..... it was never random :)

The Tree and The Bird



She never realized that she was the tree
Until one day he came by to her life
She was just a little tree back then,
and he wasn't the prettiest bird of all.
And unlike any other bird, he didn't like singing.
He didn't like chirping, either.
He was so quiet, even she didn't realize that after all,
after all the years he was quietly sitting on her branches
'Til one day he accidentally started humming
She was so amazed, she never thought that
the bird that appeared to be dull, colorless,
could be that interesting
They started talking, the tree and the bird,
She never forgets the way his hazel eyes glimmered
When he talked about the world he saw
He talked about the great mountains, the valleys,
The oceans, the shoreline, his favorite place
She couldn't imagine how the ocean looked like
When everything that surrounded her was green,
how could she ever imagine how blue seemed like?
He told her about the big word out there,
the city streets, the beautiful night lights,
Just like the stars, she said?
Even better, he promised.
She closed her eyes, she tried to believe everything he said
She imagined that one day she would see all those places
He opened her eyes to this world she never knew
But she did not have wings, all she had was roots
She tried to flap her branches as she saw he flapped his wings.
But instead of flying, her leaves fell off to the ground
She realized they were different, but she loved him with all of her heart
She embraced him with her leaves, tried to protect him from the Mighty Sun
She gave him the shelter, the place where he could stay
Every single day the bird would sit on her branches
Every single day he would tell a new story
'Til she actually forgot that he was a bird,
and the wings that actually made him one,
She forgot...... until one day he disappeared
And she waited, and waited........ for the bird to come back
Will he sit on other tree's branches?
Will he tell the story to any other tree?
She waited..... and the days turned to weeks
And weeks turned to months
And months turned to years
And years turned to the day she stopped counting
To any other bird that came by after him,
all of them would always leave
But he, he was the first one to leave, he actually left mark
Though she stopped waiting, she never stopped remembering.
But without realizing it, she started to grow
Taller, stronger,
Better,
She started to see this world the way he always sees it
Now she understood what the fuss was all about
The color of the skies, the wide ocean, the shoreline,
the city lights that probably where he is right now
Sometimes she's still gazing from a far, wondering where he is,
or what kind of story he would tell if he ever sat with her again,
But she's the tree,
She has always been the tree.
And he's the bird
He has wings.
And that's probably why she'd never see him again.
.
1826.

.


Hmm



Sent by someone to me, 

The moon and the sun will never be
One;
So you walk aimlessly every afternoon
asking yourself “what if?” and
“What happened?”
You always kick the rocks in front of you, thinking that you could send it somewhere–
Near a tree, near a bench, or near a river,
but not on the doomed place you are now.
You ask yourself why you keep
on writing about the person you love,
without your hands getting numb,
or without your ribs getting broken.
You wonder what will happen to the
words never said, to the wishes
never heard, and to the desires
never expressed.
You keep on walking at the
road all alone while everybody’s hand
is occupied.
Then you remember that the Sun and
The Moon never meet;
they keep on haunting and following
each other, embracing and nearly
kissing each other’s skin but they really never collided with each other–
no union involved.
Because some people are not meant
to stay,
Some of them just visit to give
us a blanket of darkness; thus,
illuminating our brightness.
Some of them just visit to get from
us a fraction of lightness so that they
can shine too.
Some of them just visit to teach
us that brightness and darkness always collide, and the aftermath of the collision will either bring constellation
Made of someone’s smiles,
or dark holes made by someone’s tears.
But you must remember
that the people we want are not the people we need;
and that the people who hurt us will lead us to the people who will love us.
Everything will be in place at the right time,
the planets will soon fall into a straight line–
and you–your heartaches, your mistakes, your imperfections and all the tears you cried will fall perfectly into the right place
for the person who will make you believe that love is worth it,
and that sunday evenings with that person are perfect versions of paradise.
The sun and the moon will never be one;
but remember that eclipses
happen for those who
believe.
—󾭍margemargo, “Why I Love Eclipses”  (via wordsnquotes)
(Source: wnq-writers.com, via wordsnquotes)
Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like You have loved me
Break my heart for what breaks yours
Everything I am for Your kingdom's cause

As I walk from earth into eternity

Here I am, again

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” and I said, “Here am I. Send me!” - Isaiah 6:8

Here I am, again. 
As You find me on my knees, again.
Crying, again
As sometimes I wonder, why did I even bother at the first place?
What was I thinking?
I knew from the very start it's going to be hard,
and the process is going to be painful
Yet I chose to walk upon the water as You called me
as the storm's surrounding me
Yet that time I chose to walk in faith instead of run
I remember I used to run, not after You but from You
I remember I only wanted to have it my way,
I want to have my life! do You remember that?
I didn't understand what is the heart to serve when I began this ministry
yet now I've interviewed bunches of people and I questioned it....
It's not fair, isn't it?
As now things are really different and I begin to question everything
I remember that everything was so different last year
My priority, my focus, and even my motivation
yet You turned that around...
You always, always take me down on my knees again
I've messed up, I've stumbled, and I've failed over and over again
No matter how good people perceive me, they don't know me like You do,
You see the depths of my heart, how deceitful it can be
You know my insecurities, You know I don't deserve this
but why.... why did You chose me?
Here I am, again, longing for the same fire You've given me
longing for the heart
longing for You
I shall never forget that heart, Lord
Here I am, again
Lead me as I lead Your people.
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