16:30.

"One thing I ask of the Lord,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to seek him in his temple." - Psalm 27:4

I went into Easter Camp with three things on my mind and heart. You can call them goals, aims... whatever, I don't have names for these, I just wanted them to be.

I wanted to worship.

I wanted to give.

I wanted to make real connections with people.

All three were given me, all three were met, all three were fulfilled.

I've come away with something which I do not have the words to describe. Without using words like "breakthrough" and "most", I will say something has happened.

Something, not just inside of me, but in the spiritual realm.

Something has changed.

"As they pass through the Valley of Baca,
they make it a place of springs;
the autumn rains also cover it with pools." - Psalms 84:6

On the last day of camp, during camp sharing - where any one who feels like it goes in front of the hall to testify or share - the verse above came to my mind. While every speaker spoke coherently of her/ his experience, I realised that I had no words to describe mine.

"Good" (ahem, existentially, truly, really) was the sum of it but I just didn't - and as you can tell, still don't - quite have the words to share coherently about my time.

It might have helped if I kept a daily journal but I didn't manage to write a single entry. There were 12 people in my bunk, and it was freezing in the mornings and nights so I could not scoot off and sit somewhere (tried that the first morning and turned into a icicle).

Any how, back to Psalm 84:6.

Baca means weeping. Read the verse again: "As they pass through the valley of weeping, they make it a place of springs. The autumn rain also cover it with ponds."

I feel like my tears, coming out from my years of wilderness and trying, have been turned into a spring, a spring of God as a dam inside of me, His instrument, has been broken. The last few years, I've been broken and have sowed tears and pain and sorrow even as I reaped the lessons that could be only be gained through such. While I grew as a person, the wounds of love (isn't the breaking done in love?) have been cut deep in my heart and spirit. A dam, a shield of defense against the world, my commitment phobia, a wall around myself has been built by own hands.

We have been trying to break down this wall and I believe it has been broken.

My tears have been transformed into springs, and the autumn rain (sweet sweet Spirit) has refreshed and filled me up.

When I was about 17 or thereabouts the period before the wilderness, I was open to the Spirit's direction in moving in Him. I remember praying for people and receiving messages from God for them. There was a closeness to the Holy Spirit that manifested in such ministry.

I don't know what you call such ministry. A mature Christian or two mentioned then that they think I have the gift of prophecy. I didn't dare to acknowledge it, I still don't but not because of fear or avoidance but because I think it wise not to treat such things of God casually.

But I had to struggle with questions and personal arguments - intellectual and emotional - about the spiritual gifts common in the charismatic circle I grew up in. I could not recouncil how some who operates in these gifts were not living holy. I had to question the gift of tongues in the church because I could not believe that all were genuine.

(This post is not about those struggles and my personal conclusions but if you are interested in a discussion about them, you know how to get hold of me.)

Why I was talking about them is because of this: I feel like I have been affirmed in the spirit about my spiritual gifts. By "affirmed", I don't mean that God told me straight in my face that I have gift A, B and C. I simply mean I am now comfortable with what I have been given, even though I'm not entirely sure of the measure and type of gifts I truly have, and I'm comfortable with exercising it.

Like I said, the dam has been broken.

I want to clarify that I have not been living in sackcloth and dust, with perpetual pain in my heart, head and soul. The wilderness I have been led through had its stages and while still in it, I learnt to smile, to laugh, to be contented and to look always at Christ... even through the turbulence but it feels so good because I know I'm leaving it behind now and moving on.

There will always be trials, persecution and all these but I know I'm now out of the valley of death and weeping that I have stumbled in for a long time.

So why won't I use the word "breakthrough" to describe something as wonderful as this?

'cause it felt like such a natural progress to me. It was meant to be so, and "breakthrough" doesn't quite sound right, to me any way.

The three things that I went into camp wanting are still true to me now.

I still want to worship.

I still want to give.

I still want to make real connections with people.

The last day of Easter Camp, I was aware of how I felt glad to be going home even as I wanted to continue spending time with my new-found friends and sisters and brothers. Somewhere in that feeling, God spoke to me about my time here.

I still don't know how long I would be staying in Melbourne and if God should open the way to stay on or to go to another country instead of home to Singapore, I would do so but whatever it is, that time will come when I must say goodbye. And I will simply have to leave. But I want to leave knowing I have given my heart, my time, my effort and friendship to people and worthy causes. Maybe I will cry, maybe I wouldn't but I will leave knowing that nothing is forever and only the things of God remain.

And hey, Christians never say goodbye.