Dear Heavenly Father

A reflective piece written by a gapper after their time in Thailand.

Dear heavenly father…
Unfairness is surrounding me.
I said I wanted justice, 

I remember saying oceans of it. 
I want mercy and rivers flowing full of it. 
This morning I woke crippled in thought, 
More of you and less of me. 
But that means sacrifice. 
How can I sacrifice, in a society full of false humility, vulnerability and accountability? 
What does it mean to be a Christian?
Who am I?

Do I continue pretending like what you did for me is common news? 
That dying on a cross for me is worth just sitting in pews. Funny how I can do exactly that. 
I gave so little of my time to community’s in Thailand and yet 
I received so much more if that’s not grace than what is? 
Some might say I had heart surgery, the removal of one’s spiritual heart replaced with more perceptive and objective. 
Thailand has corrupted my soul, even consumed my fruits that you let grow.
And let’s be real, God you took control. 
I give you permission to fuel passion in a way that I have never known passion before. 
Don’t let my emotions control my devotion to you. 
But break my heart in two. 
Let’s start at the beginning.
Who am I?

My culture screams slave to sin, you scream 
Daughter of the King of kings.
And I must admit, I forget the sovereignty in the identity I hold in you. 
I am incomparable, I learnt to live from so many of your parables. More of you, less of me.
Who am I, in you?

Well, I am sensitive, which means my convictions run deep in me, Sometimes Lord I turn them into condemnation and let them sit and have tea with me. 
I’m continually renewed in you. 
You create an environment where shame falls off my shoulders and purpose comes in the form of boulders. 
Here we go, 
Who am I.? 

In Thailand, this calling became more and more fluent, as others became truant. 
I heard it in the whispers of my prayers, my face started to stream so many tears. 
A mother to many.

Looking back, I can see the planting of such seeds, now I just need to sign the deed. 
And I’m scared. 
A mother to many.

This doesn’t mean a husband and 12 children. 
It means, vulnerability needs to run through my veins and acceptance needs to radiate me in all ways. 
Passion needs to be action not just a fraction of my emotions. 
Christ needs to live in me. 
I need to be a safe place, where youth may lay. 
A mother to many.

Lord, I need wisdom too.
I need a servant heart embedded in my nature 
I need a radical change that only comes from you.
More or you and less of me. 
Where do I go from here? 
Lord mould me, fold me.
You told me you had a plan for me, and man its GOLD! 
Guide me. Hide me. Hold me. 
And you will make me 
A mother to many.

O’ Lord I know that not for a minute were they forsaken, 
But Lord. 
Kani kani ko warioatapu 
Dance with my soul.