Sunday, December 5, 2021

Fulfilment of God’s Promises

It took me 7 years and 5 months to come to a realisation that God has fulfilled His promises to me in large measures. Late 2013 and early 2014 when I was contemplating my future in Singapore the Lord gave me three passages from the Bible. First, the return to one’s homeland in his 50th year, the year of Jubilee (Lev 25). Second, that God would be with me and bless me if I returned to the land of my birth like He promised Jacob. I had no qualms in declaring that God is faithful to His Word and how He had blessed me. I had no one else to look for help or assistance, not even my son in Auckland. But God is a generous God and in a week’s time I would have paid off my Picanto and I am free from all debts and encumbrances. Not many people in their late 50s could testify to that in view of the pandemic and worrisome figures given by the EPF about what little savings a majority of Malaysians have for their retirement.

A government that could approve a gift of RM100 million to a former PM who had been convicted of crime and jailed 12 years simply beggars belief. If you asked me, Christians are in for a rough ride. It is a red herring at best when Sabah’s politicians harped on equal rights and fight over nomenclature between Bornean States or East Malaysia. Both terms I take on with pride and understanding of our colourful history but what is the use of it all when more than 60 percent of the State’s population are considered the poor of the 40 percent lowest income in the country. I take pride that my salary falls under the poverty line and my family income even worse since my wife does not work or earn an income. I take pride because I choose to suffer the afflictions of God’s people in Sabah and identify with them in their lowliness. But I don’t consider myself poor since I own a house free of mortgage and cars that I could drive wherever I want to alleviate any boredom that comes from sitting in the house too long. I saw God’s fulfilment of His promises. When I sang along “Katonti” in Hebrew last night, my life suddenly flashed back to all major junctures of my life. I stood near the foot of Mount Kinabalu in Melangkap. I saw myself preaching in more than 120 villages throughout the State. I saw myself standing at my home church’s pulpit and preaching. I saw myself in Onehunga square Auckland, not knowing where to go. I saw myself driving up and down Mount Kinabalu 200 times for 49 months and I saw myself departing from my local church, bearing the reproach of Christ just as He promised me 7 or 8 years ago.

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