Chronicles of an Imperfect Saint.

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I woke up and saw everything around me in terror. My heart racing over what I had seen, felt and done.

What had I done..? What had I done..?

I felt an unearthly fear grip me. I hear the light growl of a street dog in the distance, I hear the familiar sounds of the night in an unsafe neighborhood at unease with the unseen forces of terror that stalk and prowl, I feel my heart beat racing. Was I going to die today..? Did I have the assurance of salvation..? I had been engaging in a dangerous game of backsliding and grace abuse for the past two to three weeks, had I exhausted God’s patience..? Was murder going to become the way that I encountered God before I was to be led towards the fiery, never ending flames of hell..? I began to search for verses in my memory to combat the overpowering, domineering forces inherent in my mind. I tried to remember past experiences where I had been rescued, saved and comforted. I tried to calm myself and stop feeling what I felt. I did not have any luck… I knew the fear that I was feeling all too well. In my spiritual mind, I tried to discern if it was a spirit, if it was a spirit operating the mention of Jesus would yield a breakthrough in some unseen, mystical and supernatural way. The past few weeks I had been swamped with village visits, personal evangelism, preaching, witnessing, writing, shooting for tv, and testifying of the Lord’s power in the town that I was placed by the Lord. It was one of my greatest spiritual longings coming to life, and it had been coming to life in the greatest possible way… But I felt completely disconnected to it all despite being spiritually empowered and able in the greatest way possible. But the simplest way to put it across to you would be that I felt myself staring at it in unbelief. Not the emotional, overwhelming sort of unbelief. But the suspicious, anxious and unthinking kind where I did not even possess a human spark or capacity to comprehend what was at work in my life at the moment.

I had started to work as an evangelist slash (sub sub) assistant pastor to a Theologian, Pastor and Bible Teacher and despite my fears of the past, despite my fears of getting caught in a wrong situation, and getting caught up with some maniacal, Over Righteous Perfectionist whose bruising words of judgment, criticism and condescension would torment me eternally, I had taken a dive because working for the Lord was what I had been created for, it was the reason that I was alive today and it was the only passion in my life that consumed me 24/7. Prior to this dive I had had three months of fiery tests, tremendous mental trials and financial suffering as I quit my job at a Gospel Channel that I had had the pleasure of shepherding, laboring for and being a part of for two years. In that channel I had had my own tv show, I was popular on account of that show and everywhere I went people began to recognize me. As blessed as that made me feel, I could hardly care less.. It was the joy of ministering to people that I enjoyed, I was a wise man who had suffered endless trials and wounds in my past, I knew the perilous side of popularity and I wanted none of it, I enjoyed people finding a reason to talk to me, apart from that I did not particularly enjoy being known as someone who was a collection of television pixels in many houses.. I wished more to be a man of use to the Lord, effective to Him and absolutely of usefulness to the King of Kings who knew the pitfalls, downfalls and the people type who were rampant in my town.. I have always been more concerned about pleasing God than man.

I had my own individual, unique, God created way of ministering and I would usually get offended when people pointed out legal errors in my style that I had never been very thrilled about perfecting, as I had studied the Bible I knew deeply that the Lord chooses certain people for who they are and for who He had created them to be, but He would fill them with Him and then use them in Holy, awe inspiring Power. I get offended because people want me to be like them, to think like them and to talk like them in a Biblical manner, God has given me a different gifting that I find the most satisfaction in, it has enabled me to do His work in a form and fashion that is more about individual healing, understanding and empathy driven counselling, fiery preaching, expository sermonizing, building up deep personal connections, initiating complete engagement and filled with Holy, inspiring and Godly passion. My leadership was more in tune with my Master, Jesus.. I was a man of the people, I hung out with sinners but I fed them truths about the gospel, I prayed fervently for them(if i’m honest right now, it has been weeks since I have prayed for anyone with my style of time), I tried to bring out the best in them, I encouraged them, I supported them and I loved them like I loved myself, or at least attempted to heroically. I allowed them to be them self and I was wise about their nature, since I observed, studied and understood them in ways that they probably have not had the joy of being accepted. All such abilities come along with my Godly anointing, power and filling. It is the Power of the LORD that has helped me perform things that I am thoroughly incapable of. I was created for a different purpose, I was not created to please men, I was created to please God. I was a man of God, no matter how many times I say it I find it hard to believe and accept.

Growing up I never had a feel for my talents, gifts and uniqueness. I only found myself wounded since I was always overlooked, underappreciated and never recognized.

The worst part about the last few weeks was that I was underfed in my spirit. My prayers had been very distracted, filled with all kinds of fears, fraught with nervous tension, wary of Godly punishment and aloof from Biblical confrontation. I always have observed how the Lord grows sharp in rebuke the further I emotionally disconnect from Him. I enjoy that actually since i’m the exact same way. I know that only love has that quality. But it has taken me time to understand it, since I have always felt personally hurt with punishment since I grew up, a fearful, awkward, shy and self conscious kid. Academically I was poor, teachers rarely praised,admired, acknowledged my existence or even enjoyed my presence… As a matter of fact nobody that I knew acknowledged me, I was unseen, invisible and deemed unworthy. I was not loved for who I was, I was seen for who I was not. I was always at the bottom of the food chain.. words such as weak student, failure, slow learner, inept, foolish and other hurtful words in the Tamil language were bestowed upon me often. I gradually learned to look at myself based on the treatment, the words and the acceptance that I received. This was not frequent, but happened 80 percent of the time. It was always implied though, and my intuition has always been on point.

My parents were often informed of my low grades, and I felt humiliation at being such a poor example of my parents at my first school. I knew my parents story, they had worked so hard to come to where we were at the moment, and here I was ruining their name, their image and their pride. I felt shame about it, but I never talked about it, but it was something that I always felt even though there are tons of negatives about me. Very early on I could pick out social themes around me , one of them was inequality, I could understand why people looked over me, I could understand why they saw dark skin and saw it as something that reminded them of ugliness.., it reminded them of the ditch, the crows and unattractiveness. So you can clearly see the k I couldn’t understand why they still didn’t feel that even such a sort of inferior person, atleast in their eyes .. Still how they felt that such a person did not deserve kindness, respect and love is beyond me.. Culturally people grow up humanistically foolish.. My different world has always enabled me to be deeply humane despite all of my flaws.

So from my narrative you can sense the kind of emotional baggage that I possess in my heart towards being confrontational, controlling, judgmental and being criticized. All these experiences have drained into my nature a kind of individualistic, independence with a protective rebelliousness, where I learned to protect myself through self imposed isolation and emotional distance. I could understand why.. God has always given me deep understanding, but what I struggled, wrestled with and was unable to come to terms with was the question How. How could people disrespect and be so unkind..? How could people kill..? How could people humiliate others and never ask sorry..? How could people be so cruel to somebody else..? How..? How..?

At my first school, Inequality was implied, reinforced and taught consciously and unconsciously, at my second school it was worse. In the Indian education system teachers were allowed to punish, hit and hurt students back in my day. The motive was to make students succeed, I wonder if it has ever accomplished that though. For four long years, I went to a hostel where I encountered this in full force. I had failed 8th grade in my first school, which meant that I had to repeat it once again. Deeply depressed and hungry for a new experience, I asked my mother to enroll me in a school that I felt would make me stronger. Growing up around rich kids, privileged kids and amongst kids who knew how to express themselves with pride, strength and arrogance.. I felt weak, inferior, ugly, unattractive, undesired, left over and untalented. At my next school, my academic and socializing inabilities encountered bullying, teasing, cruel physical punishment, taunting, fights, pride, strength, force and verbal punishment. I was the one who was always punished the most, the one who felt the sickness in the system the most and the one who felt the hurt of others the most, growing up I could never sense anybody have the kind of heart for the suffering like I did. I say that with all humility, since the school that I studied at after failing eight grade implied that one had the license to be arrogant by brute force and be recognized as some sort of man. I can only laugh at the foolishness of all such imbeciles and snobs now, but still I have the humbling, my own pride breaking sense to also reach out with compassion to the bully in the same manner that I reach out to the suffering.

Punishment meant that I was unloved, rebuke meant that I was inferior, I knew that I couldn’t treat the Lord this way, as strong as it made me feel to have the power to stay within protective distance from the Lord’s rod of correction, I knew deeply well that I wouldn’t be able to stand a minute of His distance.., I would self destruct if He were to abandon and neglect me.., I would gladly murder myself if He were to distance Himself away from me forever. I can’t bear His distance, I can’t bear Him not enjoying me, I can’t bear Him being apart from me even though i’m an idiot who forgets things and acts belligerently and disrespectfully. More than seeing God as God, I view Him through the lens of my need.. Chiefly my inner most needs of wanting love at all times, at all costs and during all times. If He were to abandon me, I would revert to my former self, with all its demonic oppression, lies, fears and deep deep anxieties.

It had frightened me to my deepest core. The nightmare ie. But I sighed as I felt the absence of the deep darkness that I had felt as soon as I had woken up. I felt a deep burden lift from my the depths of my soul. The burden of my past and the promise of the future and my human inability to comprehend the power of both unsettled me, I wrestle when the burden of it all gets too much for my fragile human heart to handle. Christ has released me from the prison, the torment, mental suffering, the agony and the mental anguish of my past, but I still struggle to understand the difference. I can feel the presence of familiar strongholds, in my life they were not only based on personal suffering of the academic kind, they were of the highly sensitive kind, they were of the artistic kind, they were rooted to the chaos of a culture blind to the power of life in all its gory, brutal realities, I see too much, sense too much, feel too much and realize too much. I wish that I didn’t know what I know. But I do, and Christ is the only power capable of helping me from such an insane, deep evil at work in the human mind, in the outer fabric, layer, nature and power of reality as it manifests itself in places, people and situations.

Blackness.., blackness possessed the room. I could hear the deep slumbering whimpers of my canine lying next to me. I realized that the Lord had woken me up to pray. I was leaving for a trip, and He always knew how overwhelmed I got in unfamiliar places. He was asking me to pray to Him, He was asking me to rest in Him, to be refreshed in spirit and to talk to Him since He knew how hurt I had been in my last few trips after being ignored, rejected and unpleasantly treated by people. I immediately felt my own confusions stirring, why did I have to ask Him in order to gain it..? Didn’t my Heavenly Father know whatever I wished, required and wanted before I could find words to speak them..? Why did I have to ask Him..? My questions only aroused my deepest confusion, I wouldn’t be able to understand why I felt the way I felt, but I knew that my spiritual man needed to encounter Him. This was my spiritual mind at work, stuff that I can never explain with reason, even though I can if I wish to.

In my nightmare I had encountered a gang of hooligans, who wished to harm me and I had physically assaulted one of them out of self defense. He fell to the floor, bleeding and hurt. In my dream he dies, I immediately run away from that place, alarmed at my act and deeply disturbed by my own viciousness. Prior to this sequence, I had made a friend, and he invites me to a posh, three star restaurant and he has been sacked by that establishment, and I feel protective of him and wish to defend him. I knew that my violent attack in the nightmare was derived from my recent travels.., I had passed through Vellore’s prisons a week ago on route to an all night prayer, and I imagined the evil at work in the cruelty of the system that was godless, perverse and inhuman. I had shuddered at the thought of ending up there, my dream used that fear.., My current ministry also involves that I spread the gospel to the nearby villages that lie in scores all around my town, villages where the demonic Hindutva faction RSS are deeply rooted in. They are well known for using violence as a weapon to assault evangelists and preachers. I naturally feel fearful despite the thick sheet of God’s presence always around me, India is a cruel place for evangelists.., and persecution is a hidden truth.., but that’s the price that one pays for loving Christ.. I find that fear also woven into the nightmare.., I also sense the anger that I had felt in the evening towards a group of young guys at the ground that I played at. Their nature was so proud, haughty, rebellious, self loving and disrespectful.. in a spurt of emotion, I had imagined myself combatting those guys and teaching them some basic manners, this too was present in that dream. Over the past few days, my dreams had elicited fear and danger, these were themes that I was always discerning about in my life, not only as a former prisoner of fear, but as a prisoner of Christ wary of worldly realities that satan wished to preserve at all costs. I felt a spirit of fear at work in that nightmare, but the Lord was speaking more powerfully to me that I was around violent, demonic powers and that I needed to protect myself in His power.

I didn’t need any further prompting. I got off the bed, and opened the door and went to the Hall.

I knew that the city that I was heading to was tremendously difficult to stomach after my powerful experience with the Lord four or so years ago. Four years ago, the city had been my home for the better part of 7 years. In it I had grown up to become the man that I was right now, the city was like my mother.., I learned, grew confident in myself and learned to take charge.. But right now as an artist, writer and evangelist things would be different… I would not only see physical uncleanness, dirt, endless unkind and foul realities.. I would be barraged and assaulted by endless unkind, vile and disrespectful things that would make me sick to my stomach since the Bible is clear that God Himself begins to live within us after we are saved, and the Lord is hurt by a world of unkindness, uncleanness and hate. The thing that would hurt me the most as an evangelist would be the spiritual reality: scores and scores of diverse people groups divided by race, creed, nationality, social standing etc etc walking around having not even the most fundamental knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. The attractiveness of people there would intimidate and confound me, the ease and comfort of people’s confidence would hurt and wound me, the intelligence and ability of people there would make me feel insignificant and useless.. My natural resources dry up the moment I hit its shores. I can only thrive and survive with Jesus power.

Godly power has enabled me to evangelize to most of my former friends in some shape, degree and fashion, all to the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. I have loads and loads of basketball teammates, friends in petrol bunks, friends working behind the counter of the In and out stores.., watchmen and security guards.., auto drivers, homeless bums, flower sellers, beggars.. In my eyes, much like my Lord, everyone is a friend. I live that out, and I love that it is the way it is. I have always hated limits, rules and boundaries between people. In my life prior to encountering Christ.., I enjoyed conversing with people from different religions, different thinking styles.., I had among my friends.. Homosexuals, transgenders, shady types, bike mechanics, atheists who blasphemed the Lord routinely, Fanatics, people who blatantly did not like me.., but I was intrigued by them even though I have felt hurt on numerous occasions, I still enjoyed their personality, their person and their presence.., I had no thoughts about their sins.., their lifestyle and their mistakes.. In my eyes, I myself struggled with numerous sins, what made me so different from them all..? I still feel the same way.., God has enabled me to love people more powerfully since then.., where I couldn’t comprehend their choices, habits and lifestyle.., as a reformed man of God I can comprehend it.., and I see the staleness that sins create in a human soul. There is no art, no beauty in sin.., it only corrupts, destroys and breaks.., and now I do my best to save, rescue and help people with the living gospel of Jesus Christ which I believe with my life, my full heart and with all my mind.

This is why I love that city so much, it helps me experience people so different from me. I can’t wait to get there despite my natural fears, hesitations and anxieties.

I would like to leave you all finally with a moral from a recent experience that I had with one of my great friends. Part of my personal evangelism ensures that I hang out with tremendously difficult people who have nothing in common with me, but I plunge into camraderie, debate, conversation and endless attempts to win souls over, both to Christ and into a brotherly fellowship with me where I lead them into a deeper knowledge, power and understanding of Jesus Christ. The ending result is that I find myself facing intimidation, heartbreak, I encounter the shallow, nonspiritual nature of men, I encounter tremendous tremendous frustration, embarrassment, shame and awkwardness. I enjoy it deeply despite my well known aversion of any kind of pain. I literally have to stalk and follow people who want nothing to do with me, or with my calling, or with the Lord that I love so dearly in my heart of hearts despite my incredible weaknesses.

After my split from Tv ministry, the Lord paired me up with a friend i’d like to call Captain Wonder, which is his nickname by the way. He and I are worlds apart, but connected both by blood and by faith. He is my brother in Christ and I love him dearly, and affectionately.. But I was having trouble dealing with his way of looking at things recently. I had sent a story of mine that I wanted him to read. I know well how deeply restless his soul is, and how impatient he is, and how being outrageously extroverted is all that he knows. Still I wanted him to know my thoughts, my stories and my soul. I sent him the link to my wordpress account. I had chosen a story that I had written three years ago about a young man in a new city. I had gone through great efforts to send him that link, since finding this particular story meant that I spend half an hour searching through my posts since I have written around 400-500 of them. I also don’t share my works with people, since I know that their insecurity often parades as criticism and insight. Five minutes later, I get a reply from him stating that I used too many commas, full stops and that he couldn’t understand what I meant. Naturally I was hurt, upset and discouraged by his reply, but I wished to overlook it.

A few days passed and then he sent his writings to me. He had had a dramatic encounter at a temple in Thiruvanamalai a few years ago, which is a local religious hotspot for hindu devotees who view it as some sort of mystical shrine of their gods.. Wasting his life around material excess and moral confusion, he felt his soul encounter the truth of Christ in a place as spiritually dead as Thiruvanamalai. That touch had inspired him to walk with Christ, although he was struggling with direction and witness. I went over his written message, I enjoyed its vulnerability, I enjoyed its emotions and I enjoyed its effort. I understood what it meant, I understood also its unspoken emotion. If I had used his same critique about grammar, language and punctuation, his work was a disorderly mess. A casual reader would’ve discarded it the moment he would’ve picked it up. His understanding of the language was as astounding as his complete ignorance of how to use it with power, imagination and conveying a story. His thoughts had no order, it did not have the power to convey what he wished to say, his grammar was as correct as the random order of stuff in a garbage can. His understanding of his profound spiritual insight was as uninspiring as a cold wave of the sea with no color and life… These are observations that speak about the outer nature of things.. Which is the Biblical way.. the Bible points out outer ugliness to correct an inner dysfunction…I did not wish to gloat over my glee at his inability, I was a wounded healer and a preacher who often used both roles to convey scriptural truths. It was not his offensive response to my story that bugged me, it was more than that. I have a fellowship that met regularly on thursdays, where he is an active member. He has supported, provided for and shouldered that ministry from the start. But there were personal attitudes that were very demeaning, controlling, confused and power driven that I wished to help him understand, give him the inspiration to change and draw him closer to Jesus which was my ultimate goal. Working directly with people helps one understand the immense spiritual distance that exists between God and man, and how man often times assumes the greatest things about himself which are often deceptive and untrue.

I called him up and asked him if we could eat outside. He readily agreed. We hit up a local tandoori place and were very soon sinking our teeth into some grilled barbecue chicken, one of the finest in Vellore. I asked him about how things were going, I asked him the condition of his faith and his day. Midway through, in his method of apologizing he opened up about why he couldn’t read it. I asked him if he was ready for a few spiritual insights..? To which he replied that he was. I asked him how he would feel if his hardwork, endless nights of frustration, blood, sweat and tears ended up in a person’s hands and he dismissively cast it aside.. Understanding the response and trying to use familiarity as a way of encountering it, he talked about how he could understand what I was saying, and that he knew why I was saying the stuff that I was saying. Ministry work has helped me see that people often upset by making you feel upset in a way that is very subtle, but avoids an exposition of things that they are rebelling in.

I empathized with his convicting pain, I told him that this was how most of us were like towards the Lord, and that we were so blatantly disrespectful towards Him and His wants but pester and get from Him things that we want. I told my friend that we are all least concerned about the Lord’s feelings but only consumed by our own. I told him as a friend that I myself was an ugly sinner whose good works were like filthy rags, but that Christ enables me serve, love and obey Him. He grew silent, maybe for the first time in decades he learned to see a thing in the eyes of God’s most intense longing for humanity. The Lord makes us to become like Him. He enjoys who we are, but He knows that we can only touch the world if we are like Him.

Friends, I leave you with these stories, personal accounts and discoveries until the next time. God bless you and may you discover the king of Kings and know and understand that He is the ultimate treasure, passion and life worth living for.

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Unfulfilled Longings – Fictional Short Story

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I’ve been trying to forget her for a long long time and failing really badly at it. It felt like I enjoyed how I felt about her to such an intensity that I struggled to let it go.., but I knew that I had to. God had strictly asked me to let her go.., but I am not a powerful Creator who is mature and absolutely perfect, and who has never made mistakes for billions upon billions of years.., I struggle with my humanity, I struggle with my version of love which involves me falling for people that I like but to whom I can never become loved in their own version of reality. I know that life is unfair this way.. but I get it.., I really do.., It’s not exactly a delightful truth.., but you gradually begin to take it impersonally and learn to accept people for their mistakes and maybe forgive them someday, and accept the fact that their rejection of you is no fault of their own.. It’s just that they can’t see deep inside of your soul, your inner person and your hidden character. People are blind to what is unseen, and the unseen is the very birthplace of romantic love.

It was a dream that helped me remember her again. I would be lying if I were to tell you that she was never in my thoughts. Her name was ingrained into my brain, a mere uttering of her name brought delights into me that prompted much fancy and imagination. She had blocked me on instagram, and on facebook she avoided my messages. She had even friendzoned me in the past, did the universal women’s code for disinterest by not replying to any of my messages for a year, and the last time that she had breezed in acting like there was nothing wrong between us.., she acted like she and I talked daily for hours upon hours.., she played with my feelings before leaving as quickly as she came. Nothing new here. Just a universal female act and drama, since I am highly sensitive.., I felt the familiar meltdown and inner accusation begin. I wrestled with thoughts that insulted my lack of self restraint, I heard voices of painful condemnation that let me know that I should’ve known better with all my years of experiencing rejection. Rejection did not sit well with me.., it would be a thorn in my flesh and sting deep and hurt deep whenever my mind wished to torment me. Perhaps i’m in a war with finding love.

I should describe to you the dream. I remember it vaguely. But the message and the moral of it was clear, it was defeat. I was suffering defeat and rejection from her. If you know me, you should know well that I don’t take defeat well. I remember those who have defeated me, it’s like a curse.., even though Christ has helped me forgive them.., I can’t easily forget those in whose presence I suffered embarrassment, shame and disgrace. As a man, I would avenge my losses.., I had to struggle with such feelings in my faith and force myself to let it go. What I loved about Christ was that, He helped me see that my inner problems were far more greater than the problems of the world and far more dangerous and deadly than all the celebrities, famed ones and writers.

I have no clue as to what triggered me to dream about her. I remember that week well, my faith had just overcome a deadly fear of facing murderous henchmen as I preached the gospel. All day long I would be bombarded by these images, it felt like I was drowning in them and the voices would condemn me about my fears, and about my lack of courage.., and they would whisper that they knew that I was afraid to die for Christ. No matter how strong I attempted to make myself courageous, I lost heart.., because all my life I’ve been afraid of pain, of suffering, of falling victim to poverty, of losing my parents to an accident.., and to many horrors that were all too common in my world. But I remember the LORD just transferring a strange sense of inner burning within me. I was burning and burning within myself, in my heart and just on fire for Christ. I witnessed people drawn to the Gospel and it felt surreal.. how was it possible in this town brimming with strong inner tensions and spiritual evils..? It felt like the fire was living within me made the gospel become more truer than human understanding and affirmations could confirm. I started to receive incredible dreams, many of them were prophetic..,revealing things about my life and calling that I did not wish to be true.

The Lord was again asking me stop longing after her. Believe me when I say to you that I tried to forget her.., I really really did.. but not really. No disrespect to the Lord.., but I couldn’t understand what that even meant. For three years I had stayed pure, moral and single. Despite a bit of fame, I was a saint in my public life, I resisted temptation and ran away from fair maidens in an attempt to please God and to reveal to Him that I was serious about Him this time. I still struggled with lusts in my personal life, but I never gave up in my vision to become more and more Godly. She seemed to initiate in me a delight and joy that I didn’t have a reference to compare it to. I fell for her three years before in a way that I had not done in my entire life, and believe me I’ve fallen many times into empty one sided infatuations. I knew that the Lord’s sharpness of language was done more out of a protective instinct.., i’ve been around Him enough to sense that the deeper and the more deadlier the danger, the sharper His language becomes. I’ve picked up on nuances when i’m around Him.., He speaks a lot when He is still, silent and non-responsive. The Lord is my best friend, I’ve learned to trust Him and even love Him when He is angry and upset with me.., I love how passionate, zealous and possessive He is of me.. even though I pathetically suck at things like immediate obedience. I fail to satisfy Him, but He satisfies me more than words can ever comprehend.

The dream started with me in a place filled with busy people. The people around me felt like they were worldly, a theme that my spirit feels a deep seated unrest with. Since I could always sense that there was something wrong with the picture that I was forced to live in, and I grew always in a state of rattled nerves and disturbed confusion of the world around me. She was there.., I refuse to say her name since it triggers intense longings,wishes and dreams. But she was there.. Perhaps the whole dream was indicative of why she said no to me. I have mistakenly and accidentally tied the knot to somebody for whom I feel nothing, and I am overcome with sorrow at my choice. She meanwhile is stronger than my emotional dilemma, she is stronger to push herself to reach professional success.., I feel like the visual scene despite being hazy was a mixture of college energy and professional glory.., and I could sense another character as well.., a character who possessed her, it was not love.., but it was more of a symbol of belonging. She belonged to him.., he had her wrapped in his fingers despite her fiery, independent nature. And as the reality sinks into me, I break down in shame and defeat. I shudder with my hands above my head in tears, and nobody pays me any notice in this scene. As a fan of Jung, I can read much into the yearnings,the themes and the way that they play out. But I’m convinced that this means that she is trouble. Trouble for my spirit, trouble for my heart and trouble for my mind. I had to abort all of my longings for her that were spawning endless stories, poems and dialogues that I wrote like scripts.. memorizing their ability to transport me to an imaginary confrontation with her.

I woke up feeling melancholic, irate and fully clear about what that dream conveyed, even though I hadn’t discovered the words to explain it yet. I initially struggled to hastily speak this dream to a Gifted Dream interpreter, since the Lord has not enabled that gift within me much to my hurt and pain. I get dreams though, every now and then, it feels like the Lord does not me to become a vision interpreter, or a seer.., and I struggle to deal with that. But I guess it’s okay, even though it’s not. If only I could do something about it, if only I could.

I still remember running into her for the first time. I was just recovering from alcoholic addiction and desperately wanted to stay away from temptation. It was on one of those short story sites, I wrote haunting, melancholic and incomplete stories brimming with passion, love and sadness. I wrote what I struggled to let go. I wrote what saddened me about people that I knew who lived with broken spirits, and I wrote to console other lost souls struggling with similar themes. Believe it or not, my writing was far better then. No, seriously it was.. I had had a dramatic encounter with Jesus Christ, and that had flipped me over upside down, all the fears that had bound me and destroyed me inwardly were asked to leave. I knew that they were fallen spirits, evil to their core.. Who belonged to a realm that the non spiritual eye and mind could not see. The Bible was the only way through which people understood the reality of these dark, hideous beings who worked for lucifer, they enjoyed destroying a man through his mind. I have literally been near the shore of madness, I have stared at myself through the eyes of madness, I know well that only Christ rescued me from such a dangerous and dark evil. My Savior did incredible wonders for me, chiefly to my creative tools, He reminded me time and time again that my imagination, my love for words, stories and my love to understand people as stories came from Him. He even reminded me of His own style of speaking to people through parables the truths of Heaven.

Writing became easier for me because God’s presence in my heart, mind and soul was doing wonders for my creativity. His gift of a new spirit added newer dimensions to my thoughts, to my fertile imagination and to my human longings. My stories were vivid, deep, clear and less tormented.., but yet they were haunting since they spoke truthfully of the sadness of unfulfilled love. How ironic that one such story prompted her friendship..? I still can’t understand why she talked to me.., her friends..i.e her profile friends were well established artists, connoisseurs and craftsmen.. I was an unseen artist who lived for creative glory and art. I’ve often wondered if it was a deception sparked by the fallen ones done in order to remind me of my past blunders and romantic suffering or if it was an incident where I assumed that she was my God ordained muse, lover and wife. I tend to forget often that I am not attractive in some people’s eyes.., especially over an electronic space.., where millions of people portray parts and bits of them in order to draw, lure and attract souls in a revolting worship. It’s not easy for someone to really discover you in the way and intensity that you wish to be found.

I had written a tremendously upbeat tragedy of a love affair. I had utilized the settings to create emotional .. Much like Scorsese’s love for neighborhoods.., I painted a vivid picture of Madras.., and poured into it the longings of human beings beguiled and desperate for love, but often wounding seekers by rapidly retreating. The hero was a struggling writer, the heroine was an Anglo-Indian.., The writer’s friend has a thing for him, and it is her friend who is the heroine.., they are drawn to each other.., but being the rationalist that the heroine is she reasons everything.., and plays a dangerous game of engaging and disengaging the hapless hero, who struggles to find a muse, and a proper intuitive settings for his love. Much of it was from my own life obviously, the heroine character was someone that I had wrongly fallen for at a friend’s wedding. I never saw her again.. Ever. I wished to memorize and commemorate her intrusion into my life with a story that I had written over many many sad songs.

She waltzed in with her usual, girly feminism and joy. Sparkling a conversation that was overwhelming, unexpected and deeply useful for a recovering alcoholic, she revealed everything about herself on that first day. I am still surprised by how in control I was on that particular day, midway through our many hour long conversation…her joy at meeting a genuine artist had faded, my charm had faded and she slwoly began to realize that she was out of control. Reason entered, warnings entered, multiple news stories of creeps online entered her mind.., she freaked and got distant. I could swear to you that on that first day – she fell for me, that she fell in love with me. I might sound desperate, unreasonable and clingy but believe me it’s true. But after that something changed. She never opened up, I wondered rationally if she felt that she didn’t wish to lead me on, I wondered if it was something about how I looked in my online profile, or was it some feminine danger radar that had alerted her.. I didn’t know. By then I had flung my well reasoned control out, and started to become more honest with her.. I would have to wait for hours to get her online, and when she was there she was distant.., aloof, detached.. She didn’t open up.., she spoke briefly and left. There would be occasional signs of life.., a post of mine would get liked.., or she would send some song suggestion on Facebook directly to my messenger.., but after that again the deafening silence would continue… how we had vibed together as people the first time never happened another time.. I could sense her longings, her desires.., but yet again the block was there….I would send non creepy messages well stretched over a space of time, well stretched over months.., and again her defense was impregnable. Something was up. I started to divert my mind, I had been down this road one too many times before, I was on the brink of eternity.. I didn’t wish to fall back into the pit from which the Lord had saved me from. Because I knew with spiritual discernment that it always ended up in the same romantic hell – unfulfilled agony and endless inner hurt. I wanted to protect myself and take myself out of the situation. Because I knew so many souls who were still chasing something they believed was true a million years ago. This was the real ugly nature of female interaction, they start more doubts than calm one’s fears.

After many months and months of shame, defeat and hurt. I walked down to the Lord and asked Him to help me. Can you believe that..? I had forgotten all about my best friend the whole time on this one issue alone and run down yet another fruitless rabbit hole..? How absurd and idiotic. From His comforting side, I stared down into my choice and realized how blind I had been to all the danger signs. I finally allowed myself to be still and comforted myself with my Lord, I was not wrong for believing in something true, noble and beautiful between two human souls.. People are more calculated when it came to matters of the human heart, let’s just say that I believed in it with more innocence, truth and effort.

So that’s the whole deal.. but hey this could’ve happened to anyone right..?

First hit… Memories of shame

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I am always trying to ponder inner realities that exist within me. Coming to terms with what they are conveying.., I perhaps to write to understand what I feel so powerfully within me.., I write to share my side of the fence.., I write to live.., I write because I am in love with words, stories, prose, beauty, literature and secrets and feel compelled to treasure this gift of gab. I believe that a writer is someone whose soul can see past the nature of make believe outer reality, and into the real heart of things.

I can’t understand what is happening in my heart.., but I feel a tremendous heaviness on it right now. My Father and I had had our usual Saturday night conversation.., the topics varied from England dropping out of the EU to my sermon that I had just finished delivering in the church opposite to our house. He highlighted things in my sermon that were hard to take.., it was the usual criticism.., ‘repetitions, unwanted honesty, forgetfulness…’ etc.., I had to listen to my parents and their observations since they were just as sensitive as me when it comes to not realizing the brevity and reality of things. All my happiness and joy at battling intense inner fear, nervous anxiety, strain etc and then standing before young people who were so cynical, dismissive and attempted to mockingly laugh and smile at your face and delivering a message fizzled away as I listened to what he was saying.., He could be really persistent when he wished to convey truths about my sermon that I could never see…, Call me insane but.., I don’t understand criticism because I deal with my own inner insecurity.., and to heave a dose of observation right after a tremendous test was quite horrifying to me…I sometimes wish people listened with their heart and not with their mind.., but he is my dad and I love him in ways that I can’t even comprehend.., he has done so much for me.., and struggles with a burden so big.., for my sake…, I can’t help but listen to my hero…but I have to remind myself to sit alone with my Lord.., perhaps I can climb above the slab of the upper floor and be alone.., and pour my heart, my tears and my feelings to Him who truly cares…, maybe I can become sane again.

I’ve discovered that most of us are expert talkers.., but few can look beneath the layers and words and understand the heart.., and find the selflessness to love back courageously and look past our own scars, wounds and weaknesses…, True Love seems to be too easy to long for and so hard to find. I am no longer content with human love.., I demand, desire and hunger for a love that can conquer.., accept me at my absolute worst and encounter me at my most insane and still love me fiercely, ferociously and insanely.., So far I can only count Jesus in that list.., nobody else comes even close.., perhaps my parents, sis and doggy can be added after a billion kilometers.., but then again God gave them to me.., and they ask me to love God more than them.., maybe I could place them after a million kms since for the first 25 years or so they were the only reflection of God that I could see, feel and enjoy and they were incredible, amazing and otherworldly at it. I’m blessed and thankful always.

I remember not so long ago when I bumped into an old acquaintance of mine. He had been a mentor to me in my past.., but a hard, no compassion showing dictator who was relentless in his handling of me.., I was chastised often.., rebuked often.., told to study hard.., and it always felt like his methods were too extreme.., too hard and too painful for a hyper sensitive, dreamer in love with his imagination such as myself… and I could clearly see that I was nothing like him… He had built up his own empire from scratch.., he started one of the most powerful ministries during the 90’s and had been responsible for a wave of revival that had hit Vellore during that time.., all of a sudden there was a surge of meetings, revival meetings, youth meetings, Godly sightings.., Angelic Sightings.., curing of terminal illnesses such as Cancer, Aids, Tumors etc… God had touched the sun scorched soil of Vellore in centuries.., and my Ex Mentor had been in the thick of things.., He was a disciplinarian, who was a hardcore perfectionist… He had a soft side to him and I could see it work on certain people.., but he was above the pack and was always leading the charge and taking all hostages with him.

Growing up I had always struggled with feelings that I could never be good at anything. I saw people naturally blooming all around me.., and I was never good at anything…, I struggled with insecurity.., inferiority and shame.., I always dreamt of killing myself in my early years.

I was his polar opposite, ie of my Imperfect Mentor.., I was a free spirit, but I could feel too powerfully the pain of a hurting, broken world.., I was deeply hurt at the plight of the street dogs whose stomachs had shrunk and the bones of their rib cage showed real clearly.., I felt pained when I saw people throwing stones at their feet, I was hurt by the fact that dogs and human beings had to search in the trash for food…, I was hurt by how some people never had the freedoms and privileges that I enjoyed.., my heart was always reaching out to the lonely, the hurt and the broken… I disliked the life that everybody led, I wanted to live a life that I enjoyed.. the childhood version of it was to live on an island away from people and that island would have libraries, food for eternity and a world class view of the stars that I would see every single night.., I enjoyed freedom, I loved being free.., I did not like to be tied down, I always dreamt of freedom the more I found myself in systems.., I enjoyed sports.., and I had a hunger in my soul to reach for the stars.. I dreamt all day long of fame.., of fortune and of beautiful stories that I could imagine, and maybe create someday.

After the initial years of growing up next to him, my parents decided that I would do a year in my Dad’s Alma Mater – MCC.., up and until that moment I felt trapped in Vellore.., Vellore was too raw and primal.., there wasn’t class, refinement, integrity or friendliness here…, I felt nothing but inner torment, anguish and boredom in my early years.., School was a bore.., I struggled to cope up…, I was detained after classes all the time.., or I had to cross paths with stronger, more assertive seniors who used me to beef up their own credentials.., I was either a punching bag or a source of teasing and scorn.., My skin color was highlighted which made me feel ugly, unwanted and awkward.., I was never accepted by my peers for some strange reason.., most of them were the sons and daughters of either rich industrialists or doctors.., I guess I was not their type.., I felt unwanted by them .. My teachers did not exactly convey any feelings of me being embraced or celebrated either…, You remember what people don’t say to you and what people can’t see in you.., I still do to this day.., I remember feeling like I was of no use to this world and I dreamt often of death and suicide… I was an invisible person who had to live like I was different.., like I was not special and like I was of a lower species…, My language speaking skills would be highlighted often.., or my grades would be brought up.., Nobody worried for me.., they were just shoving my lack of interest in academia into my face and telling me that I was useless. The hardest part of it was to feel shame for the sake of my parents.., who I could see were such kind, gentle souls and here I was shoving a brutal reality pill into their faces because of my sensitive soul… They had worked hard to get to where they were.., my Dad had undergone tremendous trials.., losing both his parents.. moving here and there.., taking care of his sisters…, struggling to come up in his own life, and my mother came from a very poverty stricken family and had studied hard to reach the management ranks of the most prestigious hospitals in our town… I had let them down.., here they were working so hard under really hard circumstances to make something of me, and here I was just wasting it all away.., I was never considered for anything or thought to be anything.., I loved sports.., but nobody took a special interest in me.., or thought that I could amount to much.., Growing up I so badly wanted somebody to believe in me and push me in fields that I was interested in.., but sadly I had none.

Such experiences with the unkind, non grace offering parts of life made me really hunger and long for love, for empathy.., for being understood despite what was going on on the surface.., I wanted people to feel sorrow for me.., but I was confused since I saw people from even lower places than me survive, fight and live.., this further made me despise myself and made me close my mouth. I did not want to talk it out to somebody and listen to them talk about things on the surface.. Nobody had the power to perceive the depths of me.. No one.. Unless I talked about it.., and when I did.., it did not impact them in the level that it impacted me.., my inner struggles helped me listen deeply to other warriors dealing with a cruel cruel life.., late on in my life.., my wounds, scars and inner demons created an artist…, created a resource so deep for my craft.., but the same feelings that I heard in my earlier years would trickle into my heart after any accomplishment.., ‘This is not good enough..’, ‘ Is this the best that you can give..?’…, ‘ Look at him/her they seem to do it in a way that feels easier than you..’.., ‘ This felt easy.., you’ve not been really challenged yet..’.., ‘ You call this writing..? A 8 year old with no understanding can write better stuff than what you just did…’ …, and so on and so forth.

When we had moved into the colony that we are staying at right now, he was the only person who was caring enough to welcome us and to also help us ingratiate ourselves to the culture of the small island of Christian only homes that stretched down two parallel streets. He was so kind.., and took such genuine efforts to include us and make us feel welcome…, but I remember the initial awkwardness of it all.., I remember my neighbors treat my mother with disrespect as she attempted friendly conversations with them.. I could not see it in their faces but I got a hint of it in my heart.., I was offended that they could respond to my mother’s genuine smile with a calculated one, how inconsiderate were they that they offered hate for love..? And I was never wrong about them.., all those highly rude individuals always seemed to find newer ways to establish their supremacy in our lives, their facial coldness seldom seemed to still.., they were always wound up, always ready to attack and always eager to express their imaginary dominance… and I am a really objective guy.., but I have always abstained from those who don’t welcome… I believe that it all comes down to early experiences. I have always struggled with being rejected.., I still do.., now I am a tough nut to crack.., but my heart is too soft. I am like my mom.., dedicated, personal and intense.., I used to alienate myself and rebel to gain strength briefly but I comply, conform and humble myself for the sake of the gospel these days, and the friendship of my Lord has really helped me forget those initial difficulties.

Nothing special seemed to happen to me.., nobody wanted to talk to me.., nobody seemed excited to be my friend.., nobody could really see me.., I understand it all now.., but the heart of a guy who knows and desires love but finds emptiness.., egoism and hostility can be hurt eternally. I did not get any love letters.., I was not anybody’s best friend.., I was hurt by the lack of interest.. by the indifference.. by the unkindness and chiefly by the inability to perceive one as being important, necessary, needed etc hurt me. But I guess those initial years and the senses that I absorbed have made me the person that I am today.., have helped me take on the cross for Christ’s sake.., and have created in me a hunger to find people who suffer the same silence that I did.., and perhaps lead them with the help of the Holy Spirit to the Lord Himself.

I don’t know who ends up reading this.., but I will beckon you to attempt to make the world a better place than the way you found it. I implore you to know Jesus as your personal Savior since the world can overwhelm, destroy and kill your good intentions.., but Christ can help you with His strength and power and lead you to work for the Kingdom of God.., and believe me the benefits are out of this world.

Thoughts of a Skeptical Christ lover

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To live out the faith in action means to painfully come to the conclusion that faith can only be carried forward through the amount of Christ we allow into our lives, Realizing the dire necessity of faith demands that often times through desperation we grieve at the ungodliness still living in our hearts, it means to carry on in the face of relentless agitation, discouragement and immense frustration… Becoming Christ like sometimes means that you realize how Un-Christ-like human nature truly is, you see it working against every creation of God in your flesh, your mind and yourself…, you find it contending ferociously against wanting the life of God in the human realm…, you find it creating the many rifts, confusions and anguish in faith building… Faith is the end of us and the beginning of God. I’ve realized that becoming like Christ is more like climbing up a steep mountain than lying by a stream and slumbering in peace, we keep pushing forward no matter how we feel.

 

It is faith that helps one see past the mess of one’s life and into the murky future of salvation, our lives always made to feel like a tremendous underperformer in its achievements of the things of God. I find that faith becomes tremendously hard when I take control of how things are supposed to be going.., supposing I walk up to a medical shop and the service provider has a nasty attitude, or a limited and haughty impersonal sense which would no doubt get on my nerves since I can absolutely absorb their entire emotional chemistry and feel it suppressing my own Christ offered Joy… Worse yet, I find it painful and hurting to my own inner person to the point where I struggle to comprehend the mean

spirited nature of that person, and furthermore I am engulfed in the bitter reactions of my own personality, I despise how easily I am available to such deep emotional harm in the hands of people whose heartlessness has become such second nature that they don’t care about other people and their feelings, or realize the enormous amount of damage that they bring to another person’s heart. I am then commanded to offer forgiveness to the individual who has unwittingly unlocked and wounded me, I am commanded by God to love that person and chief of all, I am commanded by God to not have a pattern of behavior that calls

for me to avoid that person at all costs or vent it all out by means of rumors or gossips. I struggle with God about almost all of His rules, I deeply appreciate their profound wisdom and beauty, I enjoy performing the easier ones…, but it’s the hard ones that I struggle with.., it’s the ones that too often than not unveil and unmask my own insecurities, inferiority and lack of humility that I get offended by…, I get offended by how the Bible can point out my hypocrisy at all times and I can do nothing about it, I have to sit there and deal with the offense with my limited understanding of forgiveness and repentance…, and chief of all, I have to truly wonder at the unrealistic and superhuman demands that Faith constantly

asks of us…, You can say that I have trouble following Christ, and the moment I doubt one segment of Him.., the entire Faith structure collapses.., the moment I get angry at God.., I withdraw from Him.., the moment I backslide, fall into lustful temptations, become bitter, resentful, hostile and remorseless about my mistakes.., I am separated from God…, and very often I feel as though God does not care enough about talking to me.., I don’t hear Him asking me to come back.., all I hear are the Bible verses that I get upset about.., ” Depart from me you evildoers..’ I hear that verse quite often in my mind, the response to that verse is most often.., I would gladly choose Hell over a God who does not understand the depths of my pain, my trials, my tribulations and my desperation in satisfying Him…, If I am cast

into a burning lake of eternal fire and torment over a Sin un-confessed, or committed against a Holy God…, How can I have peace in my walk of faith..? How..? How am I supposed to satisfy a God that I can never ever fully satisfy..?

 

Atleast in my estimation ie.

I realize that I don’t have the answers, but I have also learned that the very God that I feel like running away from is the only person in this entire Universe who loves me more than I deserve to be loved.., those are pretty strong reasons to blindly love somebody and do what they say and want.

 

But then again, I am not angry at God.. He has never done anything wrong in regard to me.., He is hard to satisfy, but those are complications that arose from Man’s fall in the garden and indwelling sin and other theological complications, but He does not treat me as my sins deserve,He never ever has and He never ever will… It is me that I get the most upset about. I complicate things by doing things that I know, that I absolutely know have destruction inherent in them.., but I still end up doing them.., as a matter of fact, I have repeated certain forbidden sins to a point where my conscience has stopped warring with my desires…, I no longer feel guilty when I do them.., it is after that I do them that the pain starts.., the hurt begins, followed by unbearable anguish and shame and the reaping begins…, I get affected by such bouts that I get tremendously discouraged and upset I have to humble myself, I have to repent of things that very often I feel like doing everyday, but the Bible warns me of the inherent dangers …, I have to discipline myself harshly.., I have to stay away from certain things…, avoid certain people.., limit myself greatly.., I sigh inwardly.., If only I could be free enough to not worry about sin, evil and God’s Judgment at all times, a dreamer can dream.., that world lays beyond this world. But I know that God has His reasons for

turning me this way and they are always, and I mean always for my complete wellbeing

and good.

 

I load up my hard disk to the tv, I connect it to the usb socket in the side and wait patiently for it to be read by the Tv’s computing system…, Televisions are so complicated these days, they’ve got so many different functions, so many different features…, I enjoy the upgrades since it essentially means that I get total control of programs… I have always disliked advertisements and the brainless trash that is loaded on televisions. The USB feature is enormously helpful to my early morning routines of reading and writing…, because I essentially love listening to sermons as I write.., they inspire and bring out the best in me…, I play Basketball highlights and analyze players and the way the teams play…, I play specific

movies over and over again…, I enjoy specific movies for the sophisticated manner in which they engage my emotions and make ordinary stories into unforgettable dreams that I vicariously relish and live through.., engaging me and my repressed desires of authorship, pastoring and Godly serving… I get the startup screen as soon as I press play the media button on my remote…, I go to the video option and select the Jesus Freak folder.., I spend a few minutes listening to Jonathan Welton, and then some over excited seminary studen beams and gushes about Jonathan Edwards, I find myself getting offended when Christ’s

followers gush and idolize Calvin, Edwards and other Christian greats…, I understand their love.., it stems from the author’s immense grasp of the disarray and the muddle of life, of the intricacies of the Believer’s life.., and their profound realizations of faith that no doubt intoxicate and thrill…, I myself have worshipped the likes of Literary greats in the past.. Jack Kerouac, Anais Nin, Thomas Wolfe, Virgina Woolf and others…, but in Christ, I find my love for rich story tellers and gifted individuals reduced to wonder and appreciation.., but it has not extended to worship.., since God has taken me further in a certain way…, I settle on a video by Cindy Jacobs, noted intercessor and Prayer Warrior…, now I am a bit of a Prayer freak myself.., I have lived and lived in prayer and bowed knees.., I love praying and I love people who teach me how to pray… I have been reading possessing the gates of the enemy by Cindy and I felt like watching her for a little while.., I love deeply passionate and intense men and women of God.., I love people who are like me, but also show me who I can become if I have the right amount of prayerfulness and sincerity…, She has an African American brother on her show, and I turn up the volume at this point.., I am multi tasking as usual…

Torn between reading Out of the Devil’s Cauldron by John Ramirez and The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac…, I have this genius idea to teach the kids at work some lessons of foundation as it pertains to Creativity so I have this notepad open and I have jotted down a few ideas…, another document lies open.., a promising story of a sensitive man has reached a few paragraphs.., but in the midst of such creative anguish, I hear the African American brother whom i’ll call Joe speak about “how his efforts of living the Christian life only made him become a professional Christian”.., at this point I am both bemused since I understand more than one can say and also get discouraged slightly assuming that there are an infinite number of spiritual diseases that can arise in faith and that I can never personally know them all…, I walk close to the television set(You will be surprised by how many revelations I have gotten at this time of the hour).., ‘He spoke about how miserable he felt while he was living that way, He did not want to witness to others about God since he did not want them to be as miserable as he was’. I enjoy it when people talk honestly about their struggles, because that is when I am able to comprehend my own faith.., I think that I caught this attitude from my Father who has helped me a great deal in dealing with spiritual failure by sharing much of his own. The speaker then talked about how God in a moment of inspiration told him that He(God) was never about religion, He was all about relationship and personal intimacy and love.., he had forgotten that and had started living the faith with personal effort…, Wow.., at this point.., I am like, who even speaks out about such complex deviations from the faith with such heartwarming honesty and openness…? I feel the brother’s confession help with my own self inflicted misery and grief.., Strangely I feel relieved and even hopeful.

 

I see God speaking to me often through my love for my dog.., I make sure that I spend a lot of time with my dog and with my garden…, and when I do so I find robust swelling up of emotions within, I feel God patiently enriching me with floods of thoughts borne out of His love for me… I like to find specific things about Him(God) because I am endlessly in love with Him and wish to know things about Him that others have failed to observe, notice and catch on to… Back to my doggy…I love her so much and the best part is that I don’t have to

understand it, I don’t have to subject it to experience driven, skeptical analytics of my mind or understand the confusions of the heart in regard to each individual no matter how appealing or put offing they are… With dogs, it’s like they enjoy your enjoyment of them… It’s that simple and that complex.. Whatever I offer gets turned back to me in canine delight, joy and endless warmth and affection…. I often see myself in my dog…, woofing away at every person outside the gate as a threat to the universe and it’s balance…, repeatedly performing the same meaningless mistakes over and over again, often times out of a lack of better things to do…, scowling away at my rebukes and punishments but immediately

returning to me because of her delight in me…, I see a lot of myself in my dog.., and I see a lot of God’s relationship in my own side as Master… Having her to a great degree has helped me enjoy the faith as a beautiful relationship with a Supernatural, omniscient, all knowing Creator who finally gets my maniacal determination to prove things, who understands the sensitive soul and the complicated sinner, who enjoys my delight of Him…, Whose watchfulness and dogged determination to bring the best out of me oftentimes gets me immensely frustrated to the point where I swear that I don’t have the same worldly independence that I once gained by rebellion and rejection of my parents and what I considered to be their archaic beliefs and values, Independence that I used to do whatever I wished to do, be it in doing drugs and finding ot new ways of bringing out experiences as I wrote, or be it in playing basketball until daylight broke the passion fuelled dream of

determination…, God seems stronger and more powerful than anyone I’ve ever met…, I know that I can’t see Him.., but it’s like I can’t avoid or run as far away from Him as I can…, I can’t sin in peace, and I can’t feel proud about shouting at somebody, or thinking unloving thoughts to my sister or towards my mother…, I can’t do those types of things anymore.., I am not under surveillance, although the Bible does speak about it.., our lives are being recorded for God’s day of Judgment.., but I see it as living with the presence of God.., and He makes me into a person that I have always longed to be, but I never had the power to be…,

Christ gives me the power to be the person that I speak about passionately in my rants against society and life. Christ gives me the strength to be what I could never be when I controlled my life, Christ makes me the best that I can ever be, and He is not finished with me.., I am still being corrected, rebuked and disciplined behind closed doors and I am still learning how to obey a Perfect God who has no weaknesses, chiefly I am learning how to enjoy it without being discouraged constantly by it if I am brutally honest.

 

I am surprised by this side of God…, I get tremendously upset with the strict, legalistically bound, rule oriented God that I see throughout the scriptures that most redeemed sinners giggle in glee about.., I just can’t see myself being forced into anything.., I have always resisted control of myself immensely…, I have had a great deal of trouble in the past with accepting authority figures in my own life to the point of tremendous rebellion and outright rejection of their rule over my life.., but I have grown the most in difficult places because I enjoy challenges, and I deeply enjoy learning how to adjust to a place considered painful, difficult and impossible to live in…, but all my accomplishments I credit to my one and

only Savior, whose feet I am not fit to touch, much less clean.

 

I have to wonder if these incredibly loving thoughts are directed at me or I wonder if they are the byproduct of my own intense imagination..? Being the skeptic that I am is a surprising paradox for many folks, because on one end I have a robust, joy filled expressive proclamation of faith in my areas of service to others…, but in the other end where I am … I struggle routinely with the darker levels of human existence.., with unanswered prayers.., with poverty, destitution, pain, suffering, evil in all it’s forms and types…, I get disillusioned by my own failures and shortcomings in the spiritual life, I get hurt by harsh sermons often.., I get hurt by people at work and at home…, I get hurt that I am caught up in a

complicated situation that takes away 90% of my independence, underpays me and forces me into a situation where I have to humble myself greatly in order to serve God and this service is often overlooked, criticized, gossiped about and thrown aside in haughty indifference…, the remaining ten percent of my independence comes at such a heavy heavy cost, that it harms the soul, disturbs the mind and wounds the spirit…and I have people preaching sermons to me all the time about stuff that they have never ever done in their own lives. You can say that the life of a budding, Evangelist is harder than what most people expect.

 

But I move forward, knowing in my heart that serving God is my one dream and desire.., In my life I’ve had many many dreams.., a few dreams I have pursued maniacally, I have been obsessed with a few, determined above all things to achieve certain goals that I have set for myself and the pressures that accompany them…, but all those dreams and passions wait by the sides…, looming like forgotten burial stones… buried and forgotten, whilst I pursue Christ and surrender and sacrifice things daily for Him…, through this tremendous struggle I find peace, calm, purpose and a deeper meaning for life than most have dared to ask or find…, I am blessed with many gifts, loved beyond comparison and thankful and humbled to enjoy what truly matters in this life above the mad rush of the world in it’s hollow, empty pursuits.

 

I’ve come to realize that the Holy Scriptures are far bigger than just immediately dealing with the complexity of our fallen nature and it’s immense disgust towards Holiness, righteousness and Salvation… I’ve seen the Scriptures speak more to me than just right living.., they have spoken to me for hours about questions that I have struggled with, communicated Godly vibrations to me, increased my spiritual joy, improve and deepen my creative urges and passions, and have increased my level of connectivity to the immediate world of the town with it’s rude participants who scowl and mock the things of God and are often so full of inner strife and turmoil that they take yours away as well. But it is in this very place of my great suffering that I find the utmost joy in serving…, often times I am surrounded by people who know how to present themselves, and know the nitty witty dynamics that comes with knowing how to network.., they mingle with so many people that personal touch, genuineness and an authentic relationship with people are overlooked…, they are in a mad rush, the demands placed on them have made them cynical, controlling, authoritative and quite frankly often times unbearable to live with, I am reminded constantly of why I don’t want to be like them.., but I can’t fault them though, we all have our downsides.., I ain’t one to judge.. Never have, Never will.

 

I’ve see the words of the Bible increase resistance, rebelliousness and defiance from my inner self just because it wishes to teach me the correct ways, and often times helps me see how little my perceptions are in regard to truth, and Godliness.., I always resort to defensive reactions when I feel my own independence of thought, action and life threatened, but I guess I have learned to look past them.., and when I have I have discovered stuff that has taught and educated me. God is quite cool and unpredictable; I love Him more when He is

mysterious.., I don’t like it when I feel Him teaching me absolute truths with absolute rawness.., I guess I mistake it for power when most often it is love, concern, care and consideration… I guess I would like delicateness and empathy, but I guess He teaches me those things in order for me to become a much better steward and servant… All my thoughts lie bare before Him.., He influences and inspires so many thoughts through His spirit that I can’t claim any for my own.

 

He is pretty mysterious, let’s just get that out there.

 

I hate living next to others, everything that you say can be taken out of the context of your own journey, and sometimes ends up pumping up their own exaggerated sense of their egos and stories which they claim are true, whilst they lament about stories that they have “suffered” for…, I dislike lies and exaggeration.., I dislike people who speak stories that are just exactly what they are – stories conjured up to present their personal greatness and awesomeness.

 

The more I listen to them, and spend time with them, the more I find out how

Liars can really sell others stories with make believe emotional theatrics…, all my stories of my personal struggle, suffering and pain lose their meaning when the guy next to me fails to understand what I mean and instead latches on to his own story using mine as a foundation of how he struggled in the face of tremendous poverty…, subtle competition is what I feel in those cases.., envy, jealousy and strife…, the Bible was not wrong to say that our desires constantly arouse jealousy and anger…, but I struggle with the same desires…, God gives me victory over them and I have learned to humble myself even when my story turns up in

other’s lives as supposed life stories of their own.., I guess God has a purpose for

these things as well…, before I write an entire Novel.., I guess that I have to

stop…, I can hear the early morning crows caw questioningly.., and the flickering

sounds of human beings awakening.., I guess that’s my cue to wind up and

close… and sleep.

 

Until next time Brothers and Sisters in Christ, Stay strong, the battle belongs to the Lord.

 

May the Lord be with you and keep you.

 

Enormity – Short Story

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He was a man haunted by the enormity of what was seen, felt, heard, thought and touched. He saw too deeply, searched too deeply, and craved too deeply.., but what was there to see in the cruel, turbulent and vanishing world..? What was seen disappeared, people disappeared, love disappeared, emotions climactic and cathartic disappeared.., what remained were our souls, and how we can claim we existed. Madness often sought his sensitive soul, it wished to take his soul and fill it with thoughts, moods and emotions that were sick and lost in their
meaninglessness… His soul blurred the lines between the world of stone and the world that was soft and absorbent… A world where life felt and moved like death and pain, any man who can discern the deep pain of death does not belong to this world.., He is closer to heaven than he realizes, and much closer to God and closer still to true vision.

The world’s cruelty, evil and pain remains clear but unseen..but oh when they entered into his intense mind of beauty, harmony and peace, they brought their curse and mind numbing spells along… Peace as still as the resounding still after the breaking waves cast their deep, eternal longings on to the souls of mankind, sitting in blindness on it’s shores … they entered him and they possessed him, and he thrashed like agitated waves unable to recover it’s sanity, like a caged parrot longing for her freedom as she squawked and cried as humans listened to noise, like a tiger experiencing deep sorrow as the cold steel bars hit his face as he attempted to use his strength to bull doze his way past it and run away into the jungle, where his rightful home was.., like a lion captured by men.., his pride stolen, and sold for sheets of money. How cruel were these everyday sights..? How cruel still the hearts of men walking past such cries to free, help and save.

He could not remember outer details, his sensitivity, his gift of being able to feel deeply was given to penetrate deeply into the surface of human life, to feel the intensity of life, to absorb the essence of humanity and it’s anguish and then reason his way out of it’s terrifying unconscious maze, to experience the Universe of the hidden soul and see in it’s splendor the mighty reality of a Divine Creator and to feel specifically what was unseen, unrealized, unheard, sidestepped, thrown aside, hurt, broken and forgotten.

What lay within a man…? Apart from his bones, his blood and his soul..? What murky inner highways, towns and cities exist formed from memories ..?What did experiences and the brutal mirror of reality turn into, did they become swords that stabbed in moments of fear..? The real things did not obey our concepts of them, they were blunt, trauma inducing and indifferent to the suffering, the pain and to the cries of men…, How foolish were men ..? To think that the stone could
feel, to assume that the dead would live.. but he could feel things that he could never seem to possess the vocabulary necessary to explain, or put a finger on and never ever be sure of. They were there, these silent beings..hateful, bitter, murderous deceivers.. searching only to kill, blind and fool him into thinking that they were there to redeem humanity… He felt them every now and then…, sometimes they stared at him through his own eyes as he searched his eyes for something beyond the dull, everyday image of how he aged in the world.. they stared at him through the darkness of this world that he had to cope with a great deal of pain,through the unbearable suffering of humanity’s clear deficiencies, they stared off the tops of temples.., clear in their disguise, yet seductively pleasing to the eye and terrifying in their postures. How long would mankind be deceived by these beings from the world beyond ours..?

But this man tired of experiencing the distress, the pain and the hurt of other men decided to kill himself.., since everything was being murdered, or run over or being hurt knowingly by men enslaved to their own evil. He too wished to extinguish himself up in a great sacrifice, all his life he felt things too deeply, but he knew not that his emotional hurt were the result of his profound inner innocence that remained despite the outer loss to social pressure.

He decided to jump off a bridge, strangely the eerie violence of his own imagination provided for him a great relief for his soul was slowly dying away. He replayed back his life, his great failures, his great inabilities and his great disappointments.., how people never truly seemed to care.., how people walked over him as though he were not there.. how people lived through and around him like he was not alive. As he was about to jump, his soul seemed to wish to perhaps kneel down and perhaps rant a final time to the unseen, invisible decider of all human fate. Like Job, he wished to let Him who is above all know his great inner turmoil, blame Him, hurt Him and then jump to his death.

He knelt down, embarrassed by his neediness despite the inner death of his soul as it prepared itself into the descent of Hell itself. He no longer cared, he was tired of caring and not being appreciated.., yes.., appreciated.., for nobody seemed to care about his presence in this stark world.., Yet he, he felt the great hurt of men forced to beg and roam, he felt the pain of a man exposed to the wiles of the city for the first time., he felt the deep sorrow of a broken heart as a lover rejected her love.., he felt the hurt of entire neighborhoods crying out for peace.., he felt the great sorrow of middle class families torn apart between loans, debts and living in fear of poverty and shame. He felt the pain of slums, huts, of souls trapped inside in mediocrity, trapped in social shame, treated like outcasts, treated like objects meant to be treated badly.., and not like human beings, with souls and hearts.., how cruel have we become..?

Was it that wrong to ask for a shoulder to cry upon..? Was it wrong to want a friend to listen..? Hadn’t he listened countless times..? Loved even as hurt, pain and evil was thrown upon him countless times.? Perhaps the deepest reason for his decision was that he could do no better, he had tried.., he had messed up, fallen down, perhaps he was not good at this human life.., perhaps it was the others who were spoken of as better all his life who deserved a better chance at this thing called life.

It didn’t feel like this divine being called God cared too much for him, he had called Him countless times.. but he was only left with the rejected sound of emptiness.., he felt hurt more by God’s silence than by the weight of all the rejections, pains and discouragements of this sad sad life. Why didn’t God care..?

Didn’t people tell him that only God would care..? That this person called Jesus would be there for him..? He knew that the supernatural in this world was largely hidden underneath men’s minds. He could also sense intuitively the reasons for God’s hiddenness.., but here he was ready to throw himself into eternal torment and hellfire, and he got no reaction, response or even a slight read in his subconscious mind.

He would gladly enjoy Hell, perhaps he would gnash his teeth at the unbearable, unthinkable, terrifying, tremendous pain.., but he would gladly endure it since nobody seem to care.., Nobody. That was far better than this.. than this indifference, that would be better than this echo of inconsideration.. If God did not care.. Perhaps He wasn’t so real after all.

All men were bound to a journey, their choices inevitably crossing the path so covered deeply with directions towards a spiritual destiny that only a few men perceived the great depths of such a call.

But as he knelt, knelt near the side of the bridge, as the cars screamed past him.., he felt a sudden gentleness in the depths of his spirit. It was so fleeting, yet so powerful in the way in which it broke away his burdens and seemed to nurse away at his famished, weary and hurt spirit… His inner spirit with it’s fractures, hurts, wounds and deep brokenness… This wondrous mysterious force seemed to work away at his tremendous darkness and seemed to weave into his tears, bursts of heavenly light, into his broken anguish the healing waters of life herself…, Who was this..? What was this..? He questioned his heart.., He felt a being working away at his heart…, He heard the whisper of a name humanity had called unto for eternity, often mistaking His identity and often times building up images from their own imagination and wisdom. He inquired further, eager to question this being that he had searched for ages, searching in the futility of the outer world and her vast enormity, he strongly felt the name, Jesus being sent to him… Yeshua.., images of a hebrew speaking Jewish Rabbi, Teacher and Healer streamed into his consciousness… His eyes welled up, the tears flowed freely.., what healing..? What kindness radiated from the man..? What gentleness..? How had he never come to this man..? Why had been unable to discern the absolute truth of Godship in this man..? How..?

But he did not care right now, he had been saved… Given life.., breathed into and offered another chance by eternity, by the tremendous majesty of the supernatural’s Creator and by the source and origin of the Universe…, God…, God did care…, He seemed to care a lot… He suddenly had this irresistible desire to share that news with the whole world, how great was his joy…, He ran …., He ran past people and he cared no more…, his heart felt light, radiant and joyful.., He screamed the name Yeshua to everyone and anyone who listened.., Yeshua saved me as I was about to jump off that bridge.. right there.. in front of you all.., Jesus.. yes that’s his name… Please listen to me.., you have to know Him… He is God.., he said to the fools blinded to their lusts by the fallen gods of this world.., but his conviction, his spiritual radiance seemed to penetrate into their hearts…,he would tell them over and over.. that was going to be his life from now.

How does one know..? He just does. It’s so deeply embedded in our psyche to respond to God that we should seriously lose all our fanciful intellectual worship of our own knowledge and Holy Curiosity, because we all will know what it is when we meet it…, either in tragedy or introspection.., We are all being attracted to the magnetic search for peace demanded from our own souls. Why don’t we ever slow down, and truly give God a chance..? Why..?

Empath’s Chronicles

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Young things have a mind all their own.. They really really do.

I always love when movies start. I really really do… It gives off a great sense of adventure and promise… Movies to me are like people,  I am wired to believe that they never end, similarly I assume that people are going to fade away in a form that does not involve pain and suffering …. The movie business, boy do I have a load of thoughts on that topic… I just hate how the movie business only wants the bodies and talents of individuals…  It wants the bodies of beautiful women to further our depraved imaginations into thinking that when they engage in lasciviousness,  it is for our pleasure… I find this vicarious thrill sickening in my imperfect yet renewed heart which has submitted itself to the Lord… I think old people choose young people to marry bcos they want the illusion of being young in some warped, twisted way. I don’t like it when that happens, it’s sick and revolting even though people pretend that it’s all normal and okay.. But then again so many things are far from being okay.

I think that people pay professional shrinks just to hear them talk without interrupting… People get so used to hearing the same things that they stop listening.

Why do people pretend like they have it all together?  Isn’t life going to snatch everything away?  Job, parents, kids.. Wife…!!  And yet they pretend like they know what’s about to happen next?   
It’s all about money in this town..  Survival…  Money.. Rent.. Bills… These are the true realities..  True love..  Soulmates – These don’t exist … They really don’t. God exists though and boy am I glad that I never get tired of Him!! 

Why do people grow up and become so cold and lonely?  Why do women control so much of our interactions?  I hate how much I re-read conversations with women in different voices and emotions trying to decipher some hidden clue of inference that will supposedly be an  “eternal treasure and joy”

Why does it hurt to be vulnerable? How can I switch off this feeling of being absolutely vulnerable at all times?   The older I get the more I see things differently.. Why do people desire each other..?  We all get tired of each other anyway..  don’t we?  What does last in this life then? 

I hate how all that people see are faces..  What about my heart?  My soul? Is your vision only limited to my vision?  I guess that the Lord is going to talk to me when He truly wishes to.. Or when He really wants to…  I don’t mind His approach.. I just want Him to talk to His favorite kid, on this side of the ocean..!  Why can’t I save all the sick, dying and broken people in this world Lord?  All the homeless animals?  All the poor people losing their minds..?  Why can’t I stop war?  Crimes? Poverty?    Prostitution, human negligence?  Trafficking ?  murder ?  merciless killings? 

I hate how forgiveness turns back the blame on myself and checks my conscience and wonders in invisibility about the relative state of all things and about our own inability to be absolutely clean and pure , People say the meanest things when they are angry… they really do…!  

I can’t understand how comfortable people are in who they are…  don’t they have fears?  Insecurities?  Timidity?  Shyness?  I’m seriously beginning to wonder how people can feel so confident when at anytime anything can happen!!  I hate what death does to a person…  I hate how it tears open a person’s soul with grief.. And brings the great treacherous injustice of the world into our hearts as we struggle against its vicious and vile might..! 

My mom doesn’t understand a thing about WiFi or the internet or what an Android app means…  and sometimes I laugh at her like it all means a lot, I hate it when I laugh at my mother…  I don’t deserve such a lazy and careless act..  She sweat blood, sweat and tears for me…  She clothed me… Placed my life before her…  what selfishness has my heart to laugh when my mom hides what her generation has trouble comprehending?  How cruel can I be? 

I feel sorry for people a lot…  I really do,  I just cry for them…  I hurt for them…  I pray for them…  the good Lord made my heart to be open and not closed to the world and it’s sufferings. I struggle in weakness against the might of my high sensitivity…  But the Lord has crafted me to bring Glory to Himself. I write stories about girls with whom I had chances with, or spent my life around with but never personally clicked… but they later found someone else.. And I roar and heave with all my anguish and mature sadness even as my pen weaves grand feel good dramas when my heart was broken so many times by decade old infatuations…!

I studied in this college where I felt invisible, where I was invisible… Nobody talked to me, it didn’t matter to them if I would’ve died right before their very eyes they still would’ve been so enamored of their great significance and privileges…  No girl ever opened her heart to me when u was there… I longed so deeply and lovingly towards my muses who were happily oblivious of my affections… I was always forgotten…  sometimes when I laugh at my ma and tease her I remember the pain of being made to feel all of that, and I grow angry at myself and start cursing myself. I still remember how much I hated myself… I can’t be like those flaky, pretensive scoundrels to my ma… She means the world to me.

How I want her to be Vs How She Really is..! – A poem and an imaginative survey of my former heartbreaks and rejections.

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How I want her to be:

Her: You know the reason why I have been giving you the cold shoulder is because I have actually been in love with you.
Me : Thank you so much, that makes all the sense in the world.
Her: I can’t wait to be your wife, your soul mate.., your everything.. I know that we have never met.., but I have always known that you were the love of my life. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.
Me: Wow.., I feel the same way, I have felt that way since the beginning.. and since the second I met you.

How she really is:

Reality and self hate:

She has been consumed in her world, she forgot you the moment you left.., You did not even make an impression.., she rarely ever though about you, never went through your Instagram, your Facebook accounts and most definitely did not give you missed calls.., and has not been dreaming or longing for you in the same way that you have been of her, and check this out.. Heartbreak Cliche’ – She has been very much in love with this guy that she met, oh.. did that hurt Romeo..? I’m sorry did that just burst your romantic bubble.. Didn’t I tell you to stay out..? Yeah..time you started listening to your brain a little bit more Einstein.

Doubts begin their beautiful wrecking process:

Wow.., if this is not what it appears to be..,what about all the events of my life that I feel have other explanations.. Spiritual wars being fought for my sake..? Divinely arranged events that lead to my redemption, my strength and to my happiness…!

Man screw the other explanations… they are the ones that really hurt and make it worse and harder than it has to be.., but I can’t accept the truth of what happened right now.., it makes me fumble and struggle in vain to put up a facade.., Now I have to act like everything is okay.. when I am crushed.. destroyed.., How can I even recover from all of this..? I can’t feign strength anymore, I am too weak, Lord Help me..Please… I can’t deal with these types of experiences again Father.., You were right.. I’m sorry I left Your safety to venture out into this unwanted dark nightmare.. For once I would like for things to go the way I want them to be. Lord, I can’t take this anymore.. I want out.. Like out of the whole spectrum of the human experience.. I can’t be such a sucka for this, I have the wisdom of a sage now, but the foolishness of a dog…

Hope and common sense have a conversation:

I mean she texted me that one time right..? There had to be something behind that.. I mean she forgets all about me for a year…, and then all of a sudden.. She messages me on my phone right.., that’s got to be a sign right..? Right..? Please let that be a sign.. I am tired of holding on to people who never held on to me in the first place.. I am a forgotten place.. A forsaken desert.. a place of abandonment.. Rejection Avenue.. Oh yeah, I take it really personally…, Real personal.. that’s who I am. I am looking for love in all the wrong places.. I got to be a little more realistic and connect with people that I Know in like real life.., and not people who live so far away. I hope you learn something important from all of this.

I speak to the Lord :

Lord..? Lord…? Please.. hear me…, my heart is broken.. by a fantasy that went too far..! I’m sure you were there throughout as I fancied and fantasized…I’m sure that you even warned me a couple of times.. Why didn’t I listen to You..? You obviously know a lot more about Her than me.., but as always I had to take charge, take a plunge into uncertain land and rely on my own instincts and feelings…, Will I ever be right Lord..? Why did I have to feel this way all of a sudden for no meaning..? I have been completely alright for over three years with no candidates in sight… I am afraid aren’t I..? Afraid that I won’t find this so called ‘One’…? Afraid that I won’t live the life that I always dreamed about..? All she offers me are empty blank spaces on social media, unanswered messages that pile up in the dozen…, long long periods before answering with a few words…, that just smells of a lack of interest, and a … I wish I wasn’t so interested, I was fine being alone Lord…Who am I kidding..? I want what I dream of too.. I deserve a good person right..? Everybody else is falling left and right in love.., I am like the only man who always gets left off..? Why does this keep happening to me Father..? Please help me.., I don’t want her anymore.., please help me forget all that happened.., and please get rid of this inner blade just stabbing me endlessly within.., I can’t deal with the shame and the embarrassment.., this pain is too intense and overpowering… Help me please.

Deliverance:

I was wrong Lord.., I should not have done this without consulting You. I am sorry.. But please.. listen to me as I am being hurt by my own heart’s inability to handle realistic situations…,
Nobody can ever take Your place.. I am sorry, in a way I was searching for somebody with whom I could be as close as I am always with You.. But I was fooled and duped again.., People seem to have their own feelings and eyes, You would know Lord.. For thousands of years.. People have done the same to You… In a way I have done it to You too…, forgive me and forgive them for all our stupidities.., Forgive me for putting someone else over You.., But Help me now.. For I need You to reach into my own heart’s darkness and help me still what has been let out…, Bring me into You.., I can’t deal with this stuff.. But I know that You will deliver and Free me ultimately.., I love You.. Godspeed