Perhaps, it is only when we recognise how nothing we have is truly ours that we can truly understand the meaning of gratitude and contentment, love and sacrifice.
I hadn’t realised it, but even though I had peace, joy and clarity in making that decision to give the money meant for my new bike for my Christmas present to Alisha’s operation , it was not without pain.
There is hardly any sacrifice worth making which does not hurt. How the flesh wars with spirit.
Today was the first day I rode on my humble bike again since my decision that day. I hadn’t realised it, but subconciously, I had been avoiding cycling so as not to remind myself of what I had lost. I hadn’t realised it, but with that joyful and determined sacrifice made, was pain, too. With that divine decision, also came a fleshly kind of sorrow.
A stranger I had met online on the triathlete forum became my friend and he asked to ride this morning. His name is KW, he’s an Iron Man, and a very nice chap. And as we rode through the clean clear roads on a cool, crisp Sunday morning, he asked as we stopped at a traffic light, ” Where d’ya get your bike from?” With one glance, he could tell it was oversized, under-geared, with vintage gear shifters. “Gonna get a new one soon?”
“No,” I said, trying to sound light-hearted. “Not anymore.”
I told him the story of Alisha. He smiled. We rode some more.
On the way home, the front tyre of my bike got punctured with a theatrical sound which demanded public attention. Some part of my tyre had come loose, swelled and burst. It reminded me of how my imaginations for a new bike had swelled to heady proportions and had now been burst. I thanked God for the visual allegory which finally allowed me to put words to the feelings that had been swirling haphazardly within me.
Shortly after our ride, I scooted off to church. It was then that the reality of what I had done suddenly dawned upon me, and embarrassed as I am to admit it, tears started to run down my cheeks. For days I had been making neurotic excuses not to touch my bike and now, I finally understood why- for with riding my bike again like I did this morning, I had to come face to face with the reality and consequence of my decision, to give up something of my heart’s desire, which I had the means to obtain, the rights to own, for something far more surreal, sublime and divine.
Tears started to run down my cheeks, not merely over what I had realised I had given up, but also in awe of the person God had changed me to become, of the strength He had given me to stick through the decision. Our choices shape the kind of people we become, and I cried in knowing that He had helped me make the right decision, a decision that I myself would not have had the strength to make. I cried, in coming face to face with my materialism, and in mourning over a worldly possession lost. The two-thousand five hundred dollar cheque which could have gone to buying my dream-bike which I had imagined, prayed and pined over had been transferred to Alisha’s operation and there was no turning back.
Stupid to cry, I thought. When she finally hears again, I’m sure I would laugh at my stupidity. (Her operation has been postponed due to a bad rash and cough.) But it hurt anyway. I didn’t expect it, I thought I had been brave and gracious and strong to make the decision- but I cried at church nonetheless, with tears aplenty. And it embarrassed and amazed me to realise how sad I really was to know the Christmas & birthday present which I had been waiting for all year was… gone.
There is a story in the bible about a man asking God what he must do to inherit eternal life. He did good deeds, obeyed rules and lived a good life. But when God said to him, “You still lack one thing. Sell all that you have and distribute it to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me.” The rich young man became very sorrowful. Someone else asked, “Who then can enter the kingdom of God?”
To which God replied, “The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.”
Similarly, I knew it would have been humanly impossible to give my gift up for a girl I only met last week. I cried, in knowing that it could only be the love of God. For only love can make the concept of self obsolete, and demonstrate its full power through self-sacrifice. Only love loses nothing by giving and surrendering everything of itself. Only the love of God is big enough for that kind of sacrifice.
I suddenly realised, how it is the very thing dearest to us that God often wants from us- not because He is mean, but because He loves us. Yes, he does.
I realised and learnt, that I never deserved my present roadbike in the first place. I never deserved to meet a swim coach who tops his category in swim races in Singapore and in some international races who willingly coaches me for free. I never deserved to have met friends and family who supported, encouraged and took me further than I could have done by myself. So, what sacrifice have I then made for Alisha if nothing belonged to me in the first place, if everything I had was a blessing from God, and not a right to own?
I am not a saint. I am far from one. I can’t believe a simple roadbike actually had a hold of me. I am embarrassed to know I felt so incredibly sad about it. I knew it was the right thing to do, yet it was hard. How the flesh and spirit war with each other. I cried, also in knowing that someday, it would not just be a bike I may have to give up for the poor, but very possibly my savings, my home, a comfortable life as a well-earning doctor in a cushy office, a car, marriage maybe. I don’t know.
The past few days were not easy. I kept asking God whether my life was fruitful. In frustration, I even asked my family what was the point of my running and swimming and cycling, whether it was all a stupid waste of time. To which they replied, ” I think it’s important. You are learning character. That’s why we support you.” It was when I was wheeling my bike with a flat tyre back home, with KW sharing with me about his runaway from God, that I also realised, that God put me in this circle of sportspeople for a reason, that it wasn’t a waste of time, that I had brought people closer to Him because of it.
Perhaps I cried also, out of fear that this would be the beginning of the many sacrifices I would be called to make in life for the poor.
But just so God could make His point on how abundant His love is for us, and how He knows my every need, He sent an angel to show me how very much He cares for our every need. As the year winds to a close, I will be emceeing, attending and hosting a number of fundraising and celebratory glitzy events, and was worried I didn’t even have basic makeup to turn up looking decent. And just this afternoon, my dear friend J (whom I had met in my cycling group and has now become like a dear elder sister to me) invited me to her home, and gave me a truckload of branded makeup products and a brandnew pedicure set.
Bobbi Brown. SKI. Concealer, foundation, powder, skincare products, lipstick, gloss, brushes from famous brands and shops I would never dare step into. A PEDICURE SET from France- just when I had decided in my heart that I wouldn’t ever pay for a pedicure for myself again.
Why, God? Why.
And I realised that in all things, everything happens for a reason. That in the name of love, no sacrifice is too big. That with God, mourning can turn into joy and sorrow into song.
And that truly, the things that are impossible with men, are possible with God.
*Alisha’s operation has been postponed again due to a recent rash outbreak and chesty cough. She is still about $20’000 short. If you would like to help make a donation, please email me at [email protected] and I will help to link you with the necessary contacts. You may also help by sharing her story with someone who may like to help her financially.
To those of you who have contacted me, thank you for yr kind donations. Your love amazes me. No gift is too small.