Faith and Fortitude

Of this world, there are only a precious few things that are truly ethereal.
There really is nothing like the kind of feeling that overwhelmed me today. I felt so blessed to know the kind of faith people had in me.


To stand up there, and speak to the few dozen faces that are staring back at me - intent and aglow with genuine concern.
To speak but not to convey, because no words in my dictionary could do so.
To say thank you, and resent the cliche in the word, like all the other words that scarcely bring out a fraction of what I truly felt.


'Language is like a cracked kettle on which we beat our tunes for bears to dance to, while all the time we long to move the stars to pity.'
Gustave Flaubert

If I spoke with conviction,
if I shook while I spoke and the corner of my eyes betrayed myself,it was only because the sheer intensity of the immense gratitude, swept me off my feet.
Thank you for believing in me.
Thank you for believing in me.

Thank you for believing
in me.

Whatever happened in LT2 today
touched me and shook me to the core.
It felt like someone had reached deep down into the bowels of my heart of hearts and given it a good, hearty squeeze.

I still stand by the choice I made today.
I had a choice.
What made it difficult and heart-wrenching was precisely the kind of faith and hope you guys had in me. It was such a precious thing that I wanted to uphold and do proud.
And yet,
I know otherwise.
I know I may serve well here, but I can and will serve better elsewhere.
It never was a matter of fame nor glory, might nor power.
There's no fame nor glory in servanthood,
no might nor power involved in inspiring others into fellowship.
And surely, true leadership is not about positions you hold,
but performing the miracle of inspiring others into fellowship through raw character.

I know I have a vision.
I have a vision for the council, but I can not fulfill it as president.
I want to effect change from the grassroots.
And there I will be.

The Servant King

From heaven you came, helpless babe,
Entered our world, your glory veiled;
Not to be served but to serve,
And give Your life That we might live.

This is our God, the servant king,
He calls us now to follow Him,
to bring our lives As a daily offering
of worship to the Servant King.

There in the garden of tears,
My heavy load He chose to bear;
His heart with sorrow was torn,
'Yet not My will But Yours,' He said.

Come see His hands And His feet,
The scars that speak of sacrifice;
Hands that flung stars Into space
To cruel nails Surrendered.

So let us learn How to serve,
And in our lives Enthrone Him;
Each other's needs to prefer,
For it is Christ We're serving