it really doesn't matter

Today was a bit interesting. Skipped dinner - didn't feel like eating. (Still haven't eaten, btw.) Hungry, yes, just no appetite. Woke up with a broken heart. No idea why.

Went to school to take the worship because today's Monday and at the end of everything, Phoebe asked me, "Anna, I feel really down today. Any idea why? Like, really, really down."

So I was like.. "Hmm... you're very sensitive.."

"Why?"

"Erm.. you were down when you woke up or as soon as you came?"

"Erm... as soon as I came."

"Oh.. I know why already," I grinned and retreated to my work.

"Why?"

I looked back at her, "well..." felt kinda uneasy, really didn't want to say it, because I knew it was my fault, "must be because of me."

"Why because of you?"

"Umm.. I woke up down.. erm.. yeah.. and I guess when you came in you could feel it, that's why I said, 'You're very sensitive'."

And she was like.. "err.... okay." And went off to class.

"Don't worry, you'll feel better when you get into the class," I called out behind her.

So I thought for a moment and wondered how terrible worship must've been for her to feel so down and it never picked up since she walked in. Felt really guilty.

Then You spoke to me about the brokenness and that I had to really give You my heart and let You keep it. And if anyone wants my heart, he'd just have to ask You for it, and You will only give it to the one that is deserving. I've had my share of broken heartedness and I believe it's enough.

The day continued and I found myself really tired the rest of the time - physically tired. Not sure if it was due to the physical pain I had because of muscle strain from the dance classes or because of the emotional pain I felt in my heart along with it the entire day. By the end of it, I gave up my replacement class with my student in Cheras because I was just too tired and hardly feeling well. I knew that if I continued to the end of the day, I would return home half dead, probably sleeping on the wheel, even. Plus, by the time I reached home, it would've been about ten-ish - late.

So I laid down on the bed and chatted with You a bit. And then You told me, "Jesus Loves you" And suddenly that really meant so much to me.. love. Was I really that loved? Wow.. It was like something I would want to paste all over facebook. I actually know what that means now.

Then, since I skipped dinner, I resorted to worshiping on my guitar. Even skipped a meeting my dad asked me to go to because he saw me stealing my laptop away from the living room while everyone else plus guests ate at the dining.

While worshiping, many things crossed my mind. Family members, leaders,.. Sigh. The horrendous moments I've had and the pressure on all sides. Sigh. Just thinking of it makes me sigh. So that's how my worship went.. hard-going at first, trying to figure out what my problem really was. And then it came...

I decided not to care anymore - what people said, what they thought of me - no matter who they were - family members, 'mentors', 'leaders', etc. I didn't care anymore. It's not that I didn't respect, honor and all. It's just that nobody's perfect. They say things that probably were not from You anyway. Not everything they say is true. I just have to learn to hear for myself. Certain things like.. "Why worship so loud in your room until everyone outside can hear you?" So I tried to keep it down. Or.. "What's wrong with you? Why did your worship leading go down?" "Have you been having your personal worship? How often have you had it?" All the negative thoughts came back to haunt me during my worship. How terrible is that? How to worship like that?! I couldn't do it. I felt terrible. Useless. Guilty, even, for singing so 'loud'.

I really didn't know what was wrong with me. So it came to a point in my worship when I couldn't care less anymore what they said and I just went on, and on and on and on and on... with all my heart, with all my strength, and I couldn't be bothered whether anyone outside the room heard me or not. I really couldn't be bothered anymore. I didn't care if I sang the same lines over and over and over again, or if I sang one 'meaningless' gibberish that didn't even make a word and was more of a sound than speech at the same tone continuously. Just couldn't be bothered anymore. But when I did that, I felt that I was getting somewhere..

And then I suddenly felt that You were pleased with my worship. For once. Not that it was a worship song, it was really a song about me.. "I need more of You, more of You" (and I felt guilty singing that song, really because it wasn't a worship song, so there it is again..) And then as I just played and played the guitar.. something hit me.. I started to cry. Just pouring my heart out, the pain, the hurts, the disappointment... everything.. like I was emptying my recycle bin.

Then something else came, "You are beautiful".. You said to me. It made me feel happy but I really thought I was getting distracted by nonsense, so I shoved it aside.

A vision appeared before me. I saw the boutique I really liked last time - Somerset Bay, in 1U. I have no idea why I saw it, but I did. And I saw a father who took a girl to pick out a dress. And as soon as that vision hit me, I started to cry. And as usual,.. I had no idea why I cried. But I saw her picking out her dress with glee but most of all, it wasn't about her. It was about her father that made me cry. I had no idea who they were. It's not like my own dad didn't take me out to buy dresses, he did. But this wasn't about that. It was the expression on his face and his attitude towards his daughter - he treated her like a princess.

What was it I missed? Wasn't I treated well? I really thought I was, really.. What was missing? Why did I cry?

Being humans, we try to reason out everything. But really, not everything was made to be reasoned out.

I couldn't figure it out. So I just played my guitar and went on..

Then I saw my own dad taking me to the changing room, but, no, it wasn't a dress. It was long white jeans and a light blue, long-sleeve polo shirt. All beggy, too. And there, I burst into the most awful cry ever.

Now.. this was not a memory. This never happened to me. It really wasn't something I was remembering. My dad didn't do that to me. What just happened? Why am I crying?

There it went again.. I was trying to reason out everything. Didn't work. Still couldn't figure it out.

So I brought You in to help me figure it out. And as I looked at myself in the mirror with the jeans and shirt nicely tucked in as I stood there, totally shocked. You stood behind me, smiling.

Smiling. That still didn't make sense. But it made me feel good. Why? (trying to reason again)

Because You were smiling at the person inside. It really had nothing to do with what I wore.

"He saw me wearing guy clothes and smiled at me. It really doesn't matter, does it?"

* tRUST & OBey the LORD *