Butterflies in My Stomach

Met a really dear friend last night for dinner and catch-up. Haven't seen him for more than 5 years and to meet up after so long, it just brings so much joy and excitement to me.

We shared on the many things that we've gone through over the past years, the valleys and mountain peaks of our lives, the amazing miracles and stories that we have witnessed, be it from ourselves or others. It was a deep heart-to-heart sharing from one soul to another. An intertwine of two lives.

What I appreciate so much about this very dear friend is that he is willing to listen. In fact, he wants to know my story. I was really stunned for a moment when he said, "Ok Lina, let's not talk about me any more. Let's talk about you. I want to hear you."

A simple statement yet to me, it means so very much.

Perhaps in my life journey, I have more often than not, acted more as the role of the listener rather than the speaker. Not that I am complaining about having to listen to other people's stories. In fact, I enjoy listening to others share their lives with me. I value the trust that they placed in me to share their heart's struggles and thoughts. To me, that's a honour that I do not take lightly.

Nonetheless, like everyone else, I too have my own stories of defeat and victories. Perhaps it's in the way I carry myself or the fact that I always ask a million questions about others' lives, not many people in my world had actually asked me about my stories. Reckon that's human nature - we are all beings with a voice, wanting to be heard. And in most cases, I have chosen to be the ear rather than the tongue.

And so, to have someone asked me point-blank about my stories - that moved me. Deeply. This dude wants to know me. He wants to listen to me. That is perhaps one of the most precious gifts that anyone can possibly give. A listening ear. For once, the role is reverse. I am now placed on the speaking platform.

So I shared. The milestones in my life were told to another person, the pains and disappointments I struggled with, the mountain peaks and victories I've rejoiced. All these were told to another human being. How precious was that indeed! As I shared, memories start to flood through my mind as I re-live the moments of the past, remembering how far I have come all through my 26 years. And most importantly, how very faithful God has been through all these years.

And it dawned on me. Finally.

I came home, inspired and refreshed in my spirit which previously, was aching away. And for once in a very long while, I cried to my heart's content. My fences are broken down as I stood before Christ, vulnerable and frail, knowing that nothing but the blood of Jesus can carry me into the presence of God.

My Creator. My Saviour. My Lover.

Am thrust into His Presence again. And yes, finally, Lina is no longer hiding or running away.

So to you, my dearest dearest friend, who exchanged his heart with mine, thank you from the bottom deep of my heart. Thank you for being real and for being there. You have no idea what our Lord has done to me through you. I love you for loving me.

10 Jan 2008 - the day I felt butterflies in my stomach again.