First hit… Memories of shame

Standard

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.

Advertisements

Late night confessions – Dreamer’ Chronicles

Standard

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.