Piercing the darkness – Part One

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Yosef watched with mute keenness the entire scene. There were so many humans there, most of them would never realize the reality of their inner soul and it’s precarious position in the sight of the Lord. None of them would know that a similar fate would meet them if they did not repent of their inherent wickedness, spiritual rebellion and mindful sinfulness and accept the precious sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ done for the benefit of humanity.

No one would be able to see him, the Lord had tired of satan using the unseen realm to fool men into believing in stories that men’s imagination devised, during the days of Noah and Enoch, Lucifer had created grand displays of men’s imagination.. Giants had lived, and had invited men’s worship and awe… further deceiving themselves and falling deeper and deeper into the nature of their own minds, by claiming to be wise, they fell away and into the snares of the ancient dragon who led them all away from the one true God and into fables, myths and fantasies.. lucifer knew how to sense such imaginative and deep souls…, Most of them would be born either in the months of March, June, September or February.., he carefully read their imaginations because he had been granted access of the soul, when the Lord created man. Man’s soul stirred up strange imagery that murmured in the restless heart of a man deep in sleep, if only a man listened to his soul during his sleep..? But the Lord had purposefully concealed knowledge of their language from man’s wisdom, natural discernment and understanding… The Lord only wanted men to be saved from Hell, His End time Judgment and from His ferocious wrath in this age…The Lord had created man using mud, but the Lord in His tremendous all encompassing wisdom had generously granted men a bit of His spirit’s intoxicating eternal mystery.. this was what men called soul.., when men lost sight of earthly things and like a child believed in the Lord Jesus and His powerful resurrection and sacrifice.., their soul converted into a spirit…and in that spirit the Lord would reveal Himself in ways that the human mind with its limits could never fathom… The Lord did not intend for the father of lies to have access to man’s soul, but His truthful absolute made it possible for His absolute goodness as well…. The fall of man opened up the soul to the evil of the fallen one.., the ancient sinner… Yosef’s face grew grim as he thought of the horrendous evil that the Serpent had created all through the ages.. all because of the knowledge that he had stolen from Heaven.., Filthy robber.., his end was coming soon.., The Lord was just anxious to save as many souls as He could before the vile serpent would raise the final deception upon all of mankind… Even an evil would glorify the Lord ultimately, such is the Lord’s law.

His senses were used to the earthly pain by now, Yosef was deeply sad but he was an angel. He did not possess man’s flesh which created deep sorrow and suffering in the case of tragedy. Man’s pain was more acute because of the way in which the Lord had created an inner system of life.. Yosef meanwhile belonged to another realm, but his duties were always to watch, guard and protect against severe outbreaks of tragedy, pain and suffering…Yosef saw the different reactions in each soul that stood by the dead body, the medics were on their way, he could hear the sirens 5 kms away.., He knew the names of all the people in the crowd. There were 10 people besides Tim who had been viciously gunned down. The Lord enabled man to choose actions with his own free will.., and man always chooses evil, because apart from Christ all that man knows is the evil inside of him… but the Lord had in His great mercy granted men natural controls over the inner depravity so vast and unrealized in a man’s inmost being.. His heart without God’s presence was deeply wicked and sinful, Men’s hearts were always restless, wicked and without a thought of the actions that would be triggered by their indulgence in sin. Mankind did not realize that their indwelling sin was the reason for all the chaos, mess and vile ugliness in what had been God’s precious world… Yosef knew things beyond man’s wisdom, Yosef could only sadly smile at the proud and haughty thoughts of men who assumed themselves to be gods.., Yosef and his fellow brothers, the guardians of this world shivered and trembled as they thought of the truth that was hidden to all of mankind. Mankind were given too little information about Yahweh’s incredible Glory… Men on this planet tired of everything.., they would grow weary, restless and begin to search and scour for inner peace.., Never realizing that it is only in Jesus that the greatest love and solution of all that a man’s heart can feel is found in.. How tender was the Lord’s mercy towards these clueless rebels and condemned..?

Man did not have the power to realize the evil that was so piercingly pervasive in every inch, fiber and space of humanity and all her grandiose creations. Yosef wondered if he should separate the soul from Tim..? Tim’s father would be devastated.., his mother had left Tim’s father when he had been young.., She wanted to freely indulge in debauchery, she had listened to her heart and it had deceived her without her knowledge.., She had left to Las Vegas.., she had tried out every sinful indulgence over there, and was now trapped by the lusts for alcohol and immorality… Yosef knew intimate things about people, he could see the paths that they were choosing for themselves, he could see the deceiving spirits gleefully chaining people who lusted after the world and its pleasures and giving most people an illusion of control, freedom and independence… but the Lord had firmly closed her supply, her finances and her promiscuity by giving her health issues in her kidneys… Tim’s father was a Godly man.., crushed by his wife’s free spirited nature.. Steve struggled to stay afloat.., but that was when a local youth pastor, Joe had invited him to a Saturday evening concert and Service.. Steve’s life had turned radical, he found God’s power to forgive the grievous sorrow of losing his wife to the world.., he became a praying man.., and he spent many hours on his knees..Praying for his neighborhood.., he became a Prayerful Watchman for his neighborhood.. Zealously praying for the Lord’s will and Help to be available to the lost souls in his vicinity.., he even prayed zealously for his wife to find her way back to him.., he prayed for Tim endlessly, and the Lord had listened and had put in plan a sequence to save him.

Tim had wanted a coke and some hersheys, when Simon, the local gang-banger triggered to irritation by a spirit of aggression to strike fear in the drug infested neighborhood had opened fire at a local midnight store which had asian owners. Simon, had grown up poor.., he had slept on the sidewalks, his parents had divorced…his mother was a dope fiend and had neither the time nor the conscious recognition of him as her son, but a chance encounter with a drug dealer had altered his life forever.. Triggered deeply to never feel that shame, pain and sorrow.. Simon had struck fear in the heart of roswell neighborhood.. Driven by a maniacal pursuit of power.. Simon created a gang that spread drugs, violence and pain… Yosef remembered that the Lord had spoken many times to Simon’s conscience, but the local territorial spirit created calamities that struck a deeper fear into the heart of Simon, causing him to sink deeper into the mob life.

Caught by a barrage of bullets, Tim had fallen down, unconscious in a pool of his own blood. He had been dead for upto 10 mins by now.., passers by had shrieked in horror at the lifeless body, Stan the Asian who took care of the midnight store had forgotten the bullet sprayed windows.., he had rushed to Tim’s side and had called 911.., Yosef had seen Stan crying at the sheer injustice of it all, passersby had all been attacked by demonic hordes of terror, fear and indifference.. Many of them had run away.., Yosef could not believe their actions, but the devil’s hellions were working to create fierce divisions and factions within mankind.. even now he could see these demons so vicious, vile and violent spread lies into the hearts of the few people who stood there.. Yosef was a high ranking Angel, He had enough power to crush and send off these pathetic hellions scampering to the shady realm of the underworld… but the Lord had not spoken through the saints in Heaven…Yosef for now was to watch over and reduce in measure, the evil of this place… Why were mankind so foolish to not pray..? Did they not know that prayer opened up the floodgates of heaven..? Yosef could only observe what men’s freewill opened their unprotected lives upto.., Mankind rarely asked for the Lord’s help.., they were too caught up in some imaginary world of their own creation…He was sad.., Tim had just begun meeting Rosie.., Rosie was skeptical of her faith, but one of the reasons that their life paths crossed was to trigger Tim to deeper examine his faith as he saw Rosie’s excuses to not stand for Christ..,Only the Lord knew who He would save at all costs.., but the Lord treated everyone like the same, but once again there were deeper mysteries to the Lord’s plans that Yosef loved.., Yosef felt his heart swell as he thought about the Lord.., It was such an incredible honor to serve the true Master of the universe…Oh if only men could see the Lord, or even sense in their inner being His truths.. Yosef sighed.., happy that angels had been spared the fate of humans…but still determined to stand for the Lord’s cause for wicked, selfish humanity…Yosef knew that there had been a chance that the Lord would’ve sparked the lives of Tim and Rosie.. The Prayers of Tim’s father had protected Tim on many many occasions, but Tim had hardened his heart against the Lord since Tim felt that he could not believe in someone who had not done anything to unite his mother and father… Tim also lived in an unsafe neighborhood… murders, drugs and prostitution had hardened his heart and aroused anger at what he assumed was either a non existent fantasy or a detached God who hardly cared about His creation… Yosef could only think in awe of the Lord’s tender mercy as He saved billions and billions of ungrateful cowards, murderers, fornicators, sorcerers, selfish and godless mortals so dead in their sins… It was sad that Tim had never grasped Jesus strong enough in his life, despite the hundreds and thousands of chances that Yahweh had offered unto him.

(to be continued)

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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.

Day 2 of the Bangalore trip – Signs of growth

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The College felt closed in my spirit.., The buildings seem too near in my spirit although outwardly they present a refreshing sight..United Theological college, Miller’s road … I stare out of the window of the room that we are at the moment lodging in. We have rented out three rooms and everybody seems to be responding to the experience in their own unique way.., My father eager to indulge the ambiance, calm and serenity felt the comfy cushion of his bed..but his mind was plotting relaxing work that could offer meaning, connectivity and relational connect to his path, he was someone who wanted a deeper meaning, a fuller overview of meaningful life engagements and always wished to engage in his passion for work, meaningful rest and faith. I wondered if I would have any supernatural experience on this trip, I saw the outline of an Angel’s wings in a stuffy room at an inn in Yercaud.., I saw a demonic spirit approach me in an invisible manner on a trip to Coorg…, as though to verify my sightings that both excited and confused me in the same degree the Lord revealed details of disturbing things about the places that we stayed in both to my mother and father in dreams. I was a young believer then.., not yet a warrior for the Lord.., but quite discerning of the world of the spirit that I could never escape no matter how hard I tried, but could also not fathom, perceive or discern to a level of clarity that could possibly speak of a gift or a calling in that area.

My sister and my cousin sister excitedly conversed in humorous lingo, constantly reverting to funny stories that they had always wanted to explore in another person’s presence.., my younger cousin sister will no doubt enjoy the company of my sister, My sister will no doubt feel the measure of her own self worth and proceed to grow in leaps and bounds into the womanhood that awaits her with dire expectations.. My mother checks her purse, sets her bags to the side, cleans the room and counsels my aunt in the same breath..My Aunt, a teacher has called her students and is chatting away to them about the nature of the trip thus far reciting the funny portions, explaining her shopping to do list and her plans.. I hear her asking them if they need something, My other aunt, my mother’s sister was a mixture of relief, nerves and worry.. She seems to immediately descend into a deep place of understanding and listened to my mother speak about Faith..I worry a lot like this aunt even though I rarely share what I feel to anybody. My Grandfather, a live 90 year old human experience of aging was excitedly moving about in a slow stroll, ever the Reverend.., he had stepped past the comfort zone of occupying one’s rooms and maybe settling in, and had instead crossed the invisible barrier of language and surface level non verbals and was mildly engaging the disinterested errand workers of the Ecumenical resource centre in gentleness and meekness… The Driver meanwhile gruff, and irate at not being included stormed away into the city just outside the gate of the college, where he would no doubt find the puff of a cigarette comforting and the plight of other people like him helpful. I feel sad about his plight, I remind myself to perhaps talk to him and ask him about his life at some point, I would have to pray since I also wished to evangelize to him in some degree. I wanted to break the boundaries that existed between the people who lived here. I was as usual reminded of the spiritual atmosphere of the place, and given a glimpse of the Christ’s depth here.., so many times work seemed to outweigh Christ driven efforts.

I hear the echo of familiar emotion in conversations in my mother tongue that seems to originate in rooms that are adjacent to mine from partially closed doors, but I find no comfort in them.. I can only feel a struggle to certain aesthetic sensations that are based more on dislike than anything else.., I seem to react to the thin paint of the walls that seem too light on the walls in the second floor, to the depressing tile colors of the floor in my room, to the newness of people who seem many echelons above me in personal style, intellect, ambition, power, assertiveness and cultural heritage.. I worried about the nasty condescension that the occupants of this city would throw my way when they would find out who I was.., I disliked weaknesses, vulnerability, helplessness etc… But it feels like Christ does His best work in such mock worthy human disappointments…But I find myself avoiding all such sensations, I am taking in too many things at once.., absorbing too many feels at the same time… I remember the low effort reception lady whose language seemed curt, disinterested and condescending even though she had a welcoming smile on her face.. Added to the fact that she was a Kannada lady poured more confusion to the raging inner fire.. I find myself feeling the contrast of the hip urban foody places where young people seemed to be assertive at and the appearance of the railway stations that felt inwardly ugly, filthy and putrid .., I try to focus on the American architecture, outer appearance that seems to soothe.., to the symbol of the Cross on transparent glass sliders that reaches deep into places in my human flesh that my mind can never ever comprehend.. To the presence of a Chapel and its silent call and cry.. to the gentle waving trees always friendly, welcoming and shy, to the still emptiness of a conference room where the wind seems to blow into.., to the sight of an eagle swooping in and picking up a twisted twig.., to the sound of my voice, to the wise acceptance of my father.., to his inner strength that knew the wrestle with the known, the unknown, the unpleasant, the unseen and the deliberately wicked. I needed to connect with the word of God soon, I was slowly and quite clearly losing my way both within me and outwardly in the outer world.

But as spiritually connected as I am..I wanted to test the waters, I refused to encounter a place with tools of non engagement.. I was not going to lose myself into my family who were with me, talk energetically with them and perhaps feed of their contentment.., I certainly was not going to command and exert my presence and escape the feeling of sinking tragedy of feeling like an alien.., I was not going to befriend people with charm and etiquette and escape the depressing sense of feeling incapable of making social adjustments.., I was going to test what a place could do to me if I encountered it as it was and not how people took it to be. I knew that part of the reason that I was feeling this way was because the spiritual man is never at peace with the wicked world and its glamorous banality. But I wish I had a proper schema to encounter places, a clear cognitive framework full of psychological insights, explanations and interpretations.., A sort of assertive energy that takes control of one’s inner emotions as it feels a new destination but sadly I don’t.., it takes time for a place to acquaint itself into my heart, my eyes, my mind, my soul, my spirit and my inner world.. I am only conscious of my powerful emotions in the beginning and strive in desperation to see past the conflict.. I must tell you that travel for the sake of it does me no good, I am not a fan of shopping, tourism and eternal drives in a claustrophobia inducing van that bumps, derails and makes one feel deeply deeply uncomfortable, but I do seem to enjoy the experience these days thanks fully to the wondrous touch of my Savior.., there were times in the past when I would turn rather nasty and bitter since my folks could not perceive or understand why I was so rattled, irate and cranky in new places.

For someone who has seldom acquainted himself to the memories of places in Bangalore, each place feels like a disjointed vein leading to a place that appears like the memory of a man suffering from schizophrenia, for a brief second clarity beckons but the madness rushes forth like a torrid tide and he is consumed once more by his delusions, his insanity and his gravity.. I feel like the ground beneath me is spinning, and I am thrown into a daze. There is a railway station close by to the college, there is an overhead bridge and a tunnel below.., two roads run the distance into meters and meters of high priced apartments, shops, departmental stores, fancy high gated houses of the rich, the affluent and the powerful, the complexion of the people here is one of those unfamiliar things even though in my part of the world there are fair skinned people.., but the body language changes here.., the behavior here is not raw, gravity oriented and engaging.., it is composed, detached, expressive and oblivious of other people.. It is a dramatic thing to encounter and slightly triggers my fear of comprehending the nature of the individuals here.. Fair skinned individuals occupy the roads, the stores and the eat outs.. I feel embarrassed in their stare, I feel like an unwelcome visitor.. I remember the hundreds of encounters with people from other states in my own town, and I remember being rude, dismissive and often times too voyeuristic of their awkwardness in my turf.., I remember the fellas poking fun at it, I don’t laugh at other people’s pain.., but I remember not doing anything about it either which in my eyes made me guilty as a man of God.., I am a sensitive person and care deeply about people being treated better than I was treated.. but I remember the inner impulses towards the culturally displaced and visiting, and I have often times not been mindful of the situation and have shown my impatience and frustration.., I start a process of deep repentance immediately, I vowed to never take any opportunity for granted again, and vow to myself to extend beyond my own capabilities.. Reflecting Christ’s love, kindness, warmth and friendship to a deeply confused world was being reinforced through these encounters. I find myself sensing the amount of effort necessary to treat everybody like you treated yourself.., it was mind boggling, overwhelming and frankly speaking frightening.., where would I get the energy..? What if I was in a bad mood..? What if I could not undo certain missed opportunities..? This was the real world, and I wanted to really engage the cultures of the world and befriend souls for Jesus.., I had to really start going out more and perhaps reading up on the subject.. but the most important thing was that I needed to spend loads and loads of time with my Savior if such a thing were even remotely possible for someone who is as mellow, observant and quite non assertive as me. I knew that part of my inability to connect with people from other cultures was because they would often times be really unfriendly and I took that rather personally in the past.., I had to make an effort.., changes don’t come from wishful thinking.

I have not connected my inner spirit with God.., so predictably I stutter and stumble like a sailor on a rocking ship assailed by mighty hungry waves in a dark fathomless night…. The inner ocean is more terrifying since you drown in the power of painful emotions of fear, anguish and hopelessness unless it dips itself into the infinite ocean of God with all its wonderful depth and healing… I feel an increase in anger.., an increase in lust.., an increase in boredom.., an increase in doubt.. an increase in fear.. an increase in reactions to my environment, surroundings, places… a deeper inability to perceive people in patience, peace and compassion.. and an overall increase in a form of stimulation that blocks one’s connectivity to the Holy Spirit who seems more and more like an impossibility at the moment… How strange is faith..? Yet how easy it becomes for a believer of Christ when he kneels in utter humility and brokenness and seeks to honestly speak out his utter neglect of the Lord and also to agonize of how utterly hopeless life as a whole feels without Christ.

I must confess an increase in feelings that made me believe that I can exist without prayer and careful Bible meditations.., I must confess a certain amount of spiritual pride that had been developing over the fact that I was called and had managed to withstand the trials, pitfalls and discouragements that people who were called by the Lord often encountered.. I must confess pride over a lot of things in my life.., pride over becoming blessed, favored, being more spiritually aware, being able to work with my gifts.., not reaching out to a friend who I believed was too focused on his problems.., I have been harboring a lot of pride as of late.., and I knew that it was wrong, useless, meaningless and not worth my time.., I needed to really spend time with the Lord and work that out.., I knew who I was before I met Christ.., someone who struggled to live, exist and breathe.., I was someone who messed up people’s lives with impulsive decisions.., I was disobedient to my parents.., I was not worth their financial investments in terms of my early education.., I made dumb mistakes.., I hurt people purposefully.., I was blunt about other people’s mistakes.., I was a shy, introverted, restless person who suffered panic attacks and had numerous bouts with mighty fears.., I could go on and on…, I don’t forget what Christ saved me from.., if He had not intervened as I pondered my suicide, I would not be alive today.., I don’t forget the deep remorse that I always carried around me as a kid, I felt that the weight of my parents was on me and I struggled to conform to the systems, organizations and the responsible attachments that everybody seemed to handle with relative ease.. I felt different, odd, rejected, inferior often, lonely, alienated.., like I said.., I can’t forget what Christ saved me from.., I have learned to see myself for who He has made me become.., but I remember my past, my bouts with depression that often lasted for months on end.., my messes.., I was saved.., redeemed, forgiven of sins that people never forgot and cleaned most importantly. I live as a new man today.., I live as someone who has escaped the devil and Hell within inches.., I live as someone who is completely dependent on Christ for everything.., and I mean everything.

After becoming a believer and follower of Christ I have tangibly felt a decrease in my imagination and its activities, it no longer turns itself on at will, it feels more and more like something invisible now. Perhaps I am closer to my dreams that I really don’t need them anymore.. I remember when I was young.., my imagination could create stories that I would live in.., I had an intense imagination and always day dreamt about fame, about reaching my dreams of becoming an elite basketball talent, of becoming a world class cricket closer.., of love and the girl that I could never forget, of becoming an actor with an Oscar.., of becoming a rap star who would go on to make platinum albums that sold millions and whose lyrics was deep, soulful, poetic and complex.., of becoming a director who created movies that changed people’s lives.., of becoming an artist who painted art that defined a generation.., of becoming a writer who exceeded his own proteges, personal heroes and muses.., my imagination made uninterested infatuation worthy females into girlfriends that I had to save heroically from crazy exes, psychopaths and villains.., my imagination helped me live the dreams that I could never achieve.., my imagination helped me become sane in a world that was too real, too uncomfortable and too blunt about its unkindness. I still write the occasional story or three, or ten or twenty depending upon the time of the day.., I am too engaged now.., I have so many responsibilities now.., I have to spend time with my Lord.., with my dog.., with the gym.., with ministry mates.., with possible recruits and possible converts.., with numerous unopened books that I am just itching to read and ideas aplenty.., with strategies that I hope to turn into reality in my next step.., with my camera for my personal channel.., with the camera for the ministry that I help and the show that airs all across Vellore and its 20 lakh people.., I spend time with a small bunch that I am trying to gather together so that we can fellowship well and worship our Maker.., I write a lot these days.., but if I am honest I want to be known as a writer and not as someone who is a weekend warrior.., I want to write about my experiences.., about my trials, about the life incidents that have shaped me to become the person that I am today.., I want to write and explore other things as well.. Novels, characters.., I am just bursting with the energy that becomes sentences in pages.., God has been too good to me.., I can go on and on about how He has held on to me even as I struggled to hold on to Him.., my journey with Him has not always been pleasant.., I’ve had my fair share of screwups, messes and stupid, stupid mistakes.., but I repent, and start all over again.., I am reminded of my calling.., to serve.., and I don’t mind being a weak, messed up vessel that has been cleansed by an Almighty Savior. What is that they say.., when the going gets tough.., the tough get going. I have miles to go and loads of people to reach.., God speed ahead.

Late night confessions – Dreamer’ Chronicles

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I worry when I can’t find something to write about. I get more anxious when the slightest disturbances tick me off when I am trying to write…. I worry often that I could permanently lose my connection to writing… I worry about things that seem more real than reality itself. Writing is a place of drowning for me…, Writing is a place where passion meets silence…, and they merge together like translucent worlds…Creating oceanic infinity unto which I find my soul adrift in… I go gently into the depths and drown myself….I feel my heart worshipping my Maker as I find meaning in the mundane and use it to create pictures that would last longer than the finished hours.. The World of Words, Stories and thoughts like ripples sink deeper into the Mighty Ocean of my Soul… I allow my heart to take over and wander… Hungry to create, Dissolving my being into the words that flow like moving streams going somewhere. I fancy myself as an eternal seeker, seeking God in the spaces of my heart’s longings and my mind’s thoughts.

I often wonder what God is like…? I wonder what He really thinks about Gay people… Paedophiles… Prostitutes.. My secret sins, My willful sins.. My lack of power in sustaining the spiritual balance and foundation of my Salvation…? Why did He have to create Hell…? Why do so many people die everyday…? I wonder when my death will come..? I wonder when the Rapture would occur…? I wonder how something as deeply evil as sin came about in this world – I wonder if sin, the cataclysmic, apocalypse demanding Hell creating evil is the direct opposite of God’s ridiculous Grace and Goodness…, I wonder if my self righteous friends are heading to Heaven and I wonder if I am on a highway to Hell…? I wonder if I can ever break the strongholds that seem to always remind me of their presence in my heart…? I wonder if Angels walk by my Gates disguised as Poor, wretched Beggars…, I wonder if I can ever fall in love again after the mess, the scars and the consequent lows that followed..? I wonder if I could give my life to Christ as a Martyr..? I wonder if I will ever finish writing my beloved book project…?

I read an angry, powerful blog the other day… The writer, a popular blogger was terrifically outraged by the U.S. Supreme Court’s announcement that favored Gay people and their democratic right to marry their partners. The writer was making a point that Jesus is not the peace loving, Grace offering person that people make Him out to be… He was a mighty, Righteous Judge who continually offended people with the truth…, He wielded whips when He discovered His Father’s House turned into a house of salesmen and traders. This was what the blogger was ranting about.., and I could understand his outrage…, he was tired of hearing people quote portions of scripture that justified their actions while blinding them to their mistakes.., and he just wished to educate them on the full character of Christ which I always feel like I have not understood. I fell in love with Jesus at a young age… He to me was the most interesting character of the entire Bible.., in my later years I found David enjoyable.. since I had many traits and life choices that mirrored his… , I realized the presence of a God as I was about to commit suicide two years ago…Trapped in a life that was slowly involving drugs, alcohol and recklessness.. I was supported by God’s words that offered me comfort, counsel and healing without the bruising judgment and confrontation that it usually does… I cling rigidly to the Grace portions… His wonderful protection of the Prostitute.., His Parable of the Prodigal son.., His tender love for Peter even after he betrayed a knowledge of Him…, His love attracts me to Him.. If there was ever someone who loved like Him.. ? My Father made a comment that Christ avoided personal attachments to people, My Father’s theory is that Jesus could not have kept up His personal ministry had He been terribly attached to people. I found myself getting terribly angry at the suggestion.., I fell in love with Jesus assuming that He was already madly and passionately in love with me..! If He was that way in His ministry, how would He treat me like as a redeemed sinner… ? I personally encountered the rich treasures of God’s precious, wonderful grace after accepting Him back into my life and renewing a commitment to Him. My Father often has this unconscious nature of lessening the nature of my story in order to reflect his own choices when he found Christ. I wonder if I can ever truly understand, grasp or ponder upon His nature. He fascinates, challenges, convicts, rebukes, loves, warns, terrifies and occupies me at all times. I can’t draw a picture of Him without pondering at length about every trait of His, and wondering about the spiritual implications and the social settings that inspired His fiery speeches. I feel like that is what the disciples must have encountered.! He was too complex to understand, but too loving to accept them all.. trifles, rejects and outcasts in a broken, legalistic society where God had become a mere phrase, tossed around to suit one’s piety and pious actions. I can understand the warning imminent in the blogger’s post… , I truly get it…, I struggled to keep up the righteous part even after I found my way into Him.. No overnight, dramatic changes occurred.. but my old heart and her ways were gone…, I felt new, fresh, cleansed, cleaned up and free… As a part of my attempts at disciplining my former life’s energies, I tried to read through Paul’s complex and blunt letters…, Most of them offended me and most of them challenged me. I wept, cried and complained to the Lord all the time that He was making this too hard for me…, I remember a time when I was not afraid to burn in Hell( a quite foolish pride and vanity of course).. My reasons were that if God’s ways were too forceful and demanding… I’d rather choose pain than go and live a perfect life in a perfect place full of perfect people – Saints, Obedient children and Perfectionists… I was quite happy being surrounded by hardened sinners who routinely lived a scandalous, riotous life without the slightest concern for a Holy God…, but at least they did not seem to be bothered much by my lifestyle or by my presence…, God on the meanwhile was too Holy, Perfect and Absolute for my tastes… He in my opinion seemed too hard to follow. But I found strangely that I was wrong…, and that God’s ways and character were too deep and too good in order for me to run away from Him. In all honesty, I wanted to run towards Him as much as I have wanted to run away from Him. Something about Him made me stay… Something about Him made me want to take an effort.

I know that in a way when I encountered Christ, I was magnificently changed.. My old friends started parting away… My lips spoke only about Jesus.. He replaced the failed love with Brilliance and Power… But stubbornly I held on to certain sins.. feeling that they were too small to inflict much damage, I would let them all away as I progressed in my faith. But they opened portals through which demonic powers forced themselves into, eating away at my new heart… Slaying away my noble efforts…, attempting to pull me back into my former world of outward glamor and pride. Somehow by the Lord’s infinite, profound mercy for my soul I survived time and time again.. But many battles were lost along the way…, but time and time again I found my knees on the floor.. asking for mercy, for Grace… for Power… For deliverance… Ultimate Deliverance… I found them often…, many of my evils have passed away… unable to find a breeding ground.. but some of the stay… subtle.. silent and predatory… Waiting for the kill… But God’s wondrous Grace and Love for me has kept me sane, sober and free for long periods of time…, but I have darknesses still but the light exposes them often.. I am not a finished product.., I have faith that Heaven is where I belong even though dark terrors and fears of Hell have kept me imprisoned for as long as I can remember. I have Faith that God will mightily deliver me from all my inward inabilities and sicknesses… I have Faith that God will accomplish what He started in my heart. I have Faith in God’s love for me which has never, ever changed and remains a rock solid supporting rope as I climp upward into the realms of the supernatural and the spiritual.

I wanted my faith to be Vibrant.., Poetic, Soulful… Spiritually rich, diverse and independent…I kept many notes about my travels which suddenly sprang up with life.. I had struggled before in capturing the intricacies of architecture.., texture, topography and the psyche and emotional vibe of the locale…but Christ’s presence and friendship transformed ordinary occurrences into gems of spiritual power and wealth. I felt my writing healed of its powerful demons, I felt my writing find a solid, stable anchor against the inner winds of a writer’s destructive darkness…, I felt my writing gain power, force and presence… as I inhabited my words, my world and my observations. God’s favor swamped my life.. I felt it deepen dry friendships, heal wounded scars inflicted by proud snobs, cure anxieties.. Deliver me from Demonic powers on a daily basis., and take me to artistic heights and realms that nourished and enriched my spirit. I felt like I was being offered a tiny glimpse of Heaven.

I often wonder if I am constructing a God whom I would love instead of merely accepting the fiercely righteous calls towards eliminating sinfulness and choosing actions that would bring Holiness into our lives. The Bible itself warns about choosing doctrines that appeal rather than living out doctrines that demand and plead for immediate action. But I can understand…, righteousness is a shield against the mighty, overpowering force of evil and wickedness… Holiness takes us away from mere worldliness…But like I said… I am just a learner…, a child attempting to wear armors that are too heavy and large for my liking…, but I am a warrior and a soldier… I have always fought for what is right… even at the cost of my own comforts.. and I will continue to persevere on, knowing that My Father is right alongside me no matter how feeble my tries.

God bless you all.
Good night.