Hope, Faith and Death

He looked up from the grimy street, scrubbing his scruffy chin. His filthy tattered clothes did little to protect from hunger and Jack Frost's little nips. You could see the years wrinkled into his skin. His hopelessness shone through his eyes as darkness would in the night. A black hole of misery, a tub of woes - 'When will it all change, when will it end - when will you listen through this din?'

The chapel across the road clanged its solemn peals - one by one they straddled in, like sheep into a fold. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out an old hymnal, saying to himself 'Today is the day it might all change, today my will He will hearken!'

Rubbing his hands, he gathered up and hobbled down the cobbles - for a Saviour, whose light had faded, awaited to be debated. 'When will it change, when will it end - when will you listen through this din? I'm hungry and I'm tired - I think it is time you took me home'

The silence, through the bell tolls, said nothing to calm his yearnings. His joints creaked in harmony, while his fingers kept cramping sorely. His misery was being old, lonely and poor. 'Is there no end to this vapidity - Is there no end at all?'

His wooden Saviour looked on, as his sheep bleated on and on. 'It is not time until it is - then you will join me truly. To go right now, you'll miss the mark for my work in you is yet to be done'

His soul by darkness embittered, his eyes offering dried tears - These words floated unheeded as late winter's winds rolled in. The bleating drilled on and on as daily candles continued to melt and amidst all that agony, hope was rendered naught.

To believe in change, to hope for change, to have faith it will all end truly - which is it, O Son of Man, when death is delayed duly?

Genuflect

After every storm, there is a need to pause - a moment that enables us to reflect on the brevity of life. A point in time when all you went through suddenly comes to a standstill. 

Breathe in... Breathe out... 

What was the point of it all - the time and energy - chaos and stress - a glimpse into Death's face - what was the point of it all?

Enough...

Get up - realise the lessons you've learned - what has not killed you makes you stronger.

Stretch....

Assess the damage - mend your sails. 

Hope....

This journey is not over. There are ports to visit and seasons to see. Life does not wait for you to happen - it flows on.

Time...

No time to dwell on the past - we live in the present, with a vision for tomorrow!

You need to arise to arrive! 

Get up!!!

The Creator and I

Psalm 39:4 – LORD, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered--how fleeting my life is;

Psalm 139:16 – Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom;

Hebrews 12:2 – Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith…..

Rev. 22:13 – I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.

X------------------------------------------------------------X

 

Candle wax dripped, as a little flame flickered above the Old Book – the covers scarred by use and its pages, yellowed with age.

A gentle breeze filled the Throne room as the Alpha and the Omega - the First and the Last - kept at it again.

There He sat, writing word after word, each word a contribution to His next Masterpiece.

He knew how it was meant to unfurl – He, in His Wisdom, knew what would be best.

With stiff sore hands that would not stop - He persisted, line after line, page after page, chapter after chapter, causing a huge crowd to gather. The Creator was at it again. The Angels peered over His Shoulder, each one wondering how this story would unfurl, some secretly delighted at the parts they would get to play – each waiting to know the end. Sometimes, they would chuckle while other times, they would wipe their tears but still He pressed on because He knew that the ending would be good.

Some pages of this old parchment were splotched by His tears, while some of the others, with blood stains of forgiveness but each page was a creation of perfection in its entirety – no spelling mistakes, no accidental words – just pieces of perfection being put together. Another masterpiece by the Creator – another Great Design to be woven through the strands of time – a story of loss of innocence, pages filled with struggles and then those of opportunity to the Gift of Salvation which ended ultimately in uniting Creation with the Creator beyond imagination or the boundaries of the limited threads of time– the ULTIMATE plan of Redemption that breathes life to His Creation.

As He penned down the last word, He smiled – the angels cheered and clapped their hands – the time was right – they knew it was. Michael walked in with the knitting needles and the personality threads – each one defining a Characteristic trait, each one defining a feature.

The Alpha and Omega rubbed His hands in glee – it was time to knit each word into being - each one defining simple things like the number of strands of hair, the color of skin to complex patterns that defined personality and natural inclinations of his little Creation. He knitted and knitted – clackity clack – because soon it would be time to breathe life into His Creation.

~*~

“Come let me tell you your story”, He called to the little Boy. “Sit and I will tell you what is best to be done”.
The Child listens as He explains what is best. Innocence and Trust, both strong in this one.
The Child listens and trusts and learns to obey.

~*~

“Come let me tell you your story”, He called to the young Boy. “Sit and I will tell you what is best to be done”. The Young Boy looks but is not sure of what he has heard – he is confused and unclear, unsure of the unseen voice and what is being asked of him. He sees the pen and decides to write a few lines of his own into the Story of life.

“No, my Child, it is not what’s best! Please listen, my Child, it is not the best!”

“But I WANT to do it this WAY, I WILL NOT have it any other way – I WANT, I WANT, I WANT!!!”, the young man screams and stomps, forcing his pages into the story of Life.

The Creator looks at them, mistakes and compromises made, consequences of actions to be played – He knows what should be done and begin He does right away.

With the ending still good, He writes away, making beauty out of ashes, once again.

~*~

“Come let me tell you your story”, He called to the young Man. “Sit and I will tell you what is best to be done”. The book of Life is filled with pages of Forgiveness blood, new pages of damage control, perfect in every way.

“I don’t want to listen to your stories right now – life is short and there is so much to be enjoyed!!!”, the young man says, as he picks up the pen to write again.

“No, my Child, it is not what’s best! Please listen, my Child, please do not lose the gift of Grace!”

With a guitar and bottle in hand, and the pen in the other, the young man writes pages of his and for other books too. Lives impacted, memories scarred.

The Creator once again, with tear filled eyes, begins to write, turning darkness into day – turning mourning into joy.

~*~

“Come let me tell you your story”, He called to the Man. “Sit and I will tell you what is best to be done”.

The Man remembers and sits to listen - his ego struggling with the choices listed – “It is difficult and not what I wish to be done! I cannot do it, I lack the skill”.

The Creator looks at him with gentle eyes, placing His hand on his shoulder, speaks to him “Be still. It was never to be done alone, for I am with you – I give you the Strength and the Skill – just Trust and be still”.

Together they fulfilled a page in his life – a lesson in Trust fulfilled.

~*~

This maybe a story – this maybe real life – but in whose hand does the pen of your life lie?

X------------------------------------------------------------X

Back!!!

Out of the shell, i peer again - Hi World! Look, it's me!! I don't know how long it will take before i crawl back. Into a shell for years of silence till the spell is broken again. Til then, all i've got to say is - I'M BACK!!!!

On Her Trip to Singapore

You leave for better prospects,
to pursue your quest for knowledge,
- in honor of a God, so great,
You are taking a bold step forward..

There will be storms and obstacles,
all of them mere tests and trials,
and through it all, my darling sis,
remember that He stands;
Ever so near, holding you dear,
reminding you, who you are -
You are His child, my little sis,
the apple of His eye...

We cannot always be there to wipe your tears,
to hug and kiss or hold your hand,
but have no fear my little one,
My God - He is and always will be there
to hold your hand, to comfort you
My God - He is always there

He guided me, He will guide you
To a greater hope and a brighter future.
Remember this, our dear only sis,
"A praying child gets all he needs,
the longer he spends time on his knees"

Let the Word planted in you grow,
Let it bear fruit and spread more seeds,
And through you, May His Kingdom grow,
God bless you Liz, our one and only sis!!!
We love you and our hearts are always there with you!!!

The College of LIfe

It was a noisy evening at Besant Nagar beach. Hawkers shouting, ice cream cart bells jingling while lots of people hurried along - some for want of exercise, some towards a destination while many others just wandered around aimlessly. The warm sea breeze carried the smell of freshly roasted corn and other wares that were being prepared by the business-men-of-tomorrow in their temporary set-up stalls. Children ran around in the bright yellow flood light, screaming out calls to their little buddies, chasing balloons, throwing beach balls, building sand-castles, seeking attention in their little innocent sort of way, from adults that were so engrossed in their own worlds. People were there in all sorts of colors, from all sorts of levels and in all sorts of moods.

And there he stood, an old man – educated many years ago, from a system that taught more than what any modern day brick walled institution could possibly do – a philosopher of life, casually observing those passing by. In his satchel, he carried all his worldly possessions – not much but enough for him to keep himself clean and different from the rest of his kind. He was aware of his destiny and fate. He knew his role in life and was content to play it out at his best. Some of us will never be aware of our roles as he was. He was himself. Each step, a carefully placed step, each shuffle a pre-conceived thought that became an action. He did not take walking for granted. To him it was an art, it was a task, and it was not easy.

Walking carefully towards those seated, he adjusted his thick rimmed glasses, and fixed a toothless smile on his old wrinkled face. He carefully looked through the crowd, assessing each person, one by one. He did not want much. He just needed whatever it took to satisfy his needs. Many years had taught him who to ask and how. He smiled. A preoccupied young man was sitting all alone, casually keying away words on his cell phone. Asking preoccupied people for what you needed usually had two kinds of consequences – they either asked you to go away or they gave you what you needed.

“Sir, could you please spare this old man a meal or something to drink?” he asked the young man seated in the crowd that seemed totally oblivious to his existence. The old man’s voice had a slight British accent. He could have been a very learned man. There definitely was more to him than what met the eye. There was a charisma in his eye that caught the young man’s attention – a joy in doing the job he did. Curiosity got the better of the young man. He had never been approached by a beggar that spoke such good English before. It bothered him a bit somewhere at the back of his mind. It was quite unusual. Many questions plagued him - inconsequential questions that would never be answered because they would never be asked. Yet they raced on through his young head.

Dipping his hand into his wallet, he smiled. He did not have much, but he did have ten rupees. Looking back at the old man, he said. ‘Uncle, I do not have a lot of money, but this is all I can give you now.’, giving the old man the money. This was more than what the old man usually got when he asked. He stretched his wrinkled arms upward and thanked God loudly. Gazing back into the young man’s eyes, he saw curiosity written all over his face. He felt that some sort of explanation should be given. “Son, I ask God everyday, when I go out to beg, that he should meet my daily needs. I see young people walk up and down this beach, throwing their hard earned money here and there on frivolities that soon pass away.” The young man nodded his head in agreement. “Instead of investing their money in gaining knowledge, they usually satisfy their tongues and tummies. While getting my needs met, i learn more about people than any college or school could teach me.” He pointed upwards to the sky for emphasis and continued, “The stars are my roof and the beach my home. The police may chase me from here to there but one day, this body will not be bothered by that anymore. Till then i thank God for every simple meal I get and for children like you who make it possible for this old man to sleep on a filled stomach. It saddens me a times when people waste money but that is their role in society. For them, that is their destiny.” With that the old man stopped. He smiled at the young man and said “God bless you, Son.” With his needs for the day being satisfied, he slowly hobbled away into the night. A happy and thankful man to a God that heard his prayers.

The young man was left to think. He had always been part of that young crowd the old man spoke about but doubted if he would ever be one again. It felt nice to hear such words of wisdom when you least expected it - especially from people you never expected to hear them from. There was more to life than the petty toys he spent his money on or the wild parties he threw his time and energies into. The happiness he obtained was always fleeting. Everyone had a role to play and for the first time, he realized that he had his too. He knew that for ten rupees, he had learnt the best lesson in the college of Life - God would provide for your needs, just do your part to your best and He will do the rest.

I never loved Shakespeare's smart comments...

Dark grey clouds fill the sky, as flashes of lightning struggle to touch the earth's skin. I guess it's another one of those days. Everything seems to want to tumble down and whatever you feel is perfect suddenly becomes cheap and soggy. Shakespeare said something about parting being a sweet sorrow so that when those parted, get together again, things would taste so much sweeter but is that really true?

I have had many friends and still shall gather more before my life on earth is over but sometimes its really hard to see the ones you begin to hold so dear to you, get up and move on. You know its for their own good and you know its the best thing that could ever happen for them.. you should be happy.. You should join in the celebrations but can you really enjoy this bittersweet cup of 'seperation' offered to you, knowing that this maybe one of the last times you may get to share common interests or moments together? I maybe immature, i may never be able to understand Shakespeare, but for now? I just wish my buddy would never go.. Things seem so strange on days he's away and now to think that he's going to go for higher studies just cuts me to the heart.. I should be happy.. I should be rejoicing.. Should even cut the fattened calf on this joyous occasion but selfishly, all i can think about is myself.....

" I wish you never had to go, my friend.. i wish we could grow up and be old together.. to see you get married, to watch you have kids, for us to continue to hang out together every weekend just cruising the roads on our bikes... To sit around and laze the way we usually do.. the way that made us feel that there was nothing in the world to worry about... Thanks for putting up with all my dumb jokes and wierd pranks.. For understanding me when everyone else thought i was being crazy or plain stupid... You always found the funny side of whatever I did or said... Work is never going to be the same without you.. I wish you didn't have to go.. But all the best my friend.. All the best... Going to miss you buddy.. Cheers... Cheers..."