Arise!

Have you ever felt that when expectations are placed on you by a few good people, especially the closer ones, the ones you love or those you respect and look up to, the more you'd shun from and reject rising to and fulfilling them?
I'm keenly acquainted to that.
They said that they regarded me as someone examplary of this and that virtue, such and such of a godly sister, woman, and I just somehow tried my best to believe, and I couldn't. I thought I did because I agreed with them that that was what I want to be. They were all stemmed from good intentions, godly intentions, and I know it is God's will for me - well 'cos God wants me to take after Him of course. But the years went on, I doubted myself, doubted their hearts, doubted if I was not someone they wanted me to become that they'd love me less. Deep inside, I doubted God. Didn't I? That He could not change me 'cos I am too much for Him, I'm too stubborn and self-centred, I take too long, too troublesome.
A little by little, I understood myself, what I was actually doing beneath it all. Take away so-called struggle with others' expectations and struggle with believing in myself, fool. This had to do with godliness, spiritual maturity, being a giant in the land: all God's speaking into my life through others.
So although it seems peculiarly artistic and romantic in that self-absorption of understanding myself and protecting my individualism such that expectations of those I hold dear and revere upset and repulsed me, it is foolishness. Plain crass! To trade your birthright for a bowl of lentil soup? Bleah!
Now, now, God, the ever patient God, wonderful amazing awesome God! For all that time, He has waited to say, "Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with Me..."
I want His plan. I want my life written by Him. I want Him to smile and I want Him to dance, just at the thought of me, and when He writes my life story. Because He knows I am His whole-heartedly.
So, expectations, what's your deal? I'll recognise if you're black or white, and even if you were grey. I'll channel my emotions right, 'cos I'm the boss of them, and it won't go devil's way.

I like to close my eyes all throughout times of singing worship to God. He's so captivating.
Then when I started leading worship, I realised I needed to open my eyes at intervals to see what is happening with the rest of the worshippers. Not so that I can boost my ego like I used to think its purpose was (how naive younger Sharon was it tickles me), but because I am in some way in between as I minister to God as well as beckoning others to do likewise.
Through the years, I have seen weariness, emptiness, lostness, sadness, absent-ness, cynicism, unbelief etc., in many people, whether it was shown through body language, on their faces or in their eyes. I'd try to surmise and figure out why they looked this or that way when they worshipped Daddy. I'd assess myself: Did I lead well? Did I not follow You? Did I exalt myself instead?
Then if I had peace and He smiles, nothing else mattered. Answers would come streaming in, and I would have compassion on those I saw that was not my own.
Those answers opened up a new world for me to understand, like an extension to my spectrum of emotions. I went through stuff and I know what it's like to not be able to connect with a song when my heart is doubtful of God. I know what it's like to stare blankly at the worship leader and wonder what I was supposed to do, where he/ she was leading us to and if I wanted to follow.
Agonising, that's all I can describe of such times.
I thought, hey, I finally know what it feels like and to be one of those who just stand and stare and sing short of 'whole-heartedness'. It felt good to be able to then fully empathise, and it felt momentarily powerful to allow myself to lag behind and decide that I was not gonna follow the full way. Sorry, 'trap', it says. It was stupidly self-inflicting. Stupidly stupid.
And maybe some people have to go through that in order to find that out. But maybe some are still caught in that trap.
The truth is this: I am His handiwork, His workmanship; simply put, I am created by Him. I am His child. I am royalty; He is King, I am His daughter. I am made for eternity with Him. I am made to be holy as He is holy. I am made to enjoy Him for He is perfection. He is not narcissistic, only honest, and supremely kind, that He would lead us to Himself, beauty Himself. Therefore I worship Him because that is being the truest to myself, agreeing with all of heaven that I am His created, He is my Creator; that I am His beloved and He is mine; I am His daughter, His beauty reflected. I AM WHO HE SAYS I AM.
What right does the clay have to think and formulate doubts and contest the Potter? Say to the Potter that it is meant to collect dust in the backyard when the Potter has made it for containment of premium soil to grow flowers? C'mon, clay. You're clay. Potter knows best.
Let doubts lead us to finding out the truth. Let doubts be answered by His sacrifice. Let doubts be replaced by faith. And check out what faith really means. "Seeing is believing" is what frail men settle for as an excuse for inadequacy. Same goes for 'feeling' if I replace it with 'seeing'. Strong men acknowledge their inadequacy and choose faith in the One greater than them.

May worship of You permeate our hearts and become our lifestyle.
May all that is in me worship You! We are only ourselves then. :)