Power of prayer

My parents came from Buddhist background. Knowing God and Him giving them peace, they gave their lives to Him.They became Christians in their late teens, as they approached adulthood. I, a second generation Christian was brought up with Christian values all my life.

Every Sunday, I'd tag along to church with my family. After the main service, I'd head off to Sunday School happily. In my teens, I'd reluctantly go for the youth meetings till I felt left out and stopped going but I still went for the main service with my family, it wasn't exactly an option and somehow, I never rebelled.

When I met Mr. C in high school, Form 4, to be exact, whilst he was pursuing me, I asked God three times if he was the one for me. And all three times, a lie or a broken promise given by Mr. C would surface. It was either coincidence or it was God's answer to me. You would think that was my answer but instead of saying goodbye to Mr. C, I pushed God away.

Yup. Chose a man, a mere mortal over God. How common is that, right?

On the outward, people always think of me as a Miss Goody-two-shoes or Miss Holy just because I didn't do stuff that they did. I didn't swear. I didn't smoke. I didn't drink. I didn't club. I didn't tell lies or think bad about people.

But after University and through working life, people and circumstances changed my perspective. Things were no longer simple. Nothing was black or white anymore. I gave in to the gray areas and started justifying myself, too. My heart harden and I became jaded and cynical.

Hating my job 24/7 and letting it and everything else in my life eat me up, I gave in to the 'world'- I cave in to my rage, my frustration. It's hard being a Christian with one foot in your Christian calling world and another in the world especially when you, yourself aren't clear which world you belong to. I still went to church. I was physically there but not mentally. Every Sunday was a chore to be dragged up to go to church.

You see, all these while, my faith wasn't mine but my parents. I wanted to make it my own but I just didn't knew how to. That and throw in Mr. C into the equation with me choosing him over God didn't help my already shaky and wavering faith.

I blamed God for playing his cruel jokes on me, for bringing me into the world, for being sadistic by putting me through all the heartache and suffering. I was mad at God and at the world. I was mad but I still talked to Him. I still asked Him why and came May last year, I got tired of regretting everything and started doing something with my life. I asked God what's the point in living, what was the reason of life and started making my own choices, even when some perceived it to be not good ones.

I left my job in October without any other job offers. Some would call it rash and some would even say that it was an irresponsible and a dumb move. I had a hard time with my mother. But I was just desperate to get out and regain whatever of my sanity I had left.

But when I left, I was happy. I got to spend time with my family. Sleep in. Go on family trips.

When I made a decision to resign, although having the knowledge and faith of a primary school Sunday School kid, I somehow believed that there is a God and that this God would provide me a job, whether I'd like the job or not wasn't the point. The point was, I knew He would. That was just some wild belief called faith. I don't know where it came from, it was just that- a belief.

True enough, in less than a month of resigning, I was offered a job at a bank, with my current Assistant Manager position (although it was a different industry which I wasn't familiar with at all and usually, one gets a level down demotion) and they gave in to my request for a pay increment. Besides that, they wanted me to start in December or as soon as possible but I didn't want to give up my vacation just yet, and asked to start in January 2010, to which they said, alright.

Every year, I think the new year will be a better year than before but it usually isn't the case. I made some bad mistakes early in the year and people were hurt. I was hurt again. In April, I left my job to come to Brisbane to be with Mr. C. We didn't have any concrete plan in hand but I, once again, somehow believed that God would see me through it all.

Many wondered at the suddenness of it but I knew that if I didn't do something, then everything would end and I would be travelling on a different road right now. Who knows? It could've been a better one. But I took a different road.

With my blind faith, I flew to Brisbane. Seven months down the road, although I am unemployed and Mr. C only has enough resources for us to last another 2-3 months, I am still here, I have food to eat, clothes to wear, a place to live and I am relatively happy.

Of course, life isn't absolute perfection and it is still an ongoing journey.

I am ashame to admit it but I don't pray everyday as I should. Last Thursday, before I fell asleep, I somehow felt compelled to pray. And I did that. I asked God to show me what plans that he has in store for Mr. C and I, to help us to find a church to settle down in, a church that we can grow and get to know Him more. To bring people into our paths, to give me friends as I get pretty lonesome without my girlfriends. To just show me what's the next step.

You can call it coincidence again but on Friday, when I had lunch with my grandaunt, she questioned Mr. C and I about our walk with God (which is something she hasn't asked the past visits we had with her). I know I had been slacking about church hunting and felt indignant. I was annoyed, thinking who was she to question, lecture me and being all righteous but as she continued 'testing' Mr. C, I realised that it was a wake up call to my prayer- to not be complacent. I may not agree with her high handedness but it was a prod. A push to wake up.

On Sunday, talking to an aunt (A Malaysian that Mr. C got to know through her son who also worked nearby) and she was recounting her journey from New Zealand to Australia and how praying is important. I felt once again that I was being prompted, being reminded to pray. To trust in Him. After that, she introduced an uncle who had some good news for Mr. C about job opportunities in the engineering field.

Like I said, you can say it's pure coincidence but I'd say it's all God. That's the only thing that makes sense actually.

I am not a super religious person or a person who loves God so much or praises Him all the time. If you were my family or close friends, you'd know that. Which is why I wonder why a friend commented yesterday that I am getting more religious, I wonder what on earth that means 'cos I definitely don't go preaching. I hardly ever mention God or anything related to Christianity.

To me, I believe that I should right myself first. As a Christian, we have a higher standard to uphold- something which I haven't been doing. To me, I feel that my life and how I live it will be my testimony. I don't want to be a pot calling the kettle black and be a walking hypocrite, pushing Christianity down people's throats.

Right now, I am trying to undo my bad habits.

Confession, these days, the f-word comes out so easily much to the annoyance of Mr. C. Yeah. Surprise Surprise. I use that word.

Initially, it was a way to express my frustrations. Then, I thought it was funny to say it. Now, it's hard to STOP saying it. Once again, the me, one year before never swore or say or do certain things.

Now, I am on a path of discovery. I want to be able to tell people why I believe in God. Why He is real to me. I want to know who He is and how is the bible, being such an ancient book, still relevant to us. I want this faith to be real and not be just something other people talk about or have misconceptions.

And once again, I have to keep reminding myself, to pray.

To believe in Him, to trust Him and to pray.