Month: Jul 2021

Order in chaos

After the rains it was there. Some call it Peace. There were frogs and crickets downstairs and the distant siren of an ambulance:

Around 5 pm one of us saw it and we yelled upstairs in our pajamas like we’d never seen these things! Ah but double rainbows and this pic isn’t capturing one tenth of it, reflected in puddles in our terrace among a rusted water pipe, rain water in bits of gaudy green moss, and the rainbow reflection falling on it all. I’m staring at a Universe filled with unspeakable dimensions we merely guess at.

πŸ‚

…oh drippy leaves, rain drops among raggedy city silhouettes; an earth washed, rinsed. Today am still inhaling that Quiet in gulps. It has been a while since Nature hit me this way.

We are ragged with Change and human conclusions. Yet thru the madness, if you and I would pause, our inner eyes could still find Beauty gazing back at us! Thank You Father God for Your impossible perfection; and for reminders of Your changeless Love arriving every dawn and dusk with determined Grace.

πŸ‚πŸŒΏπŸ‚

Order.

Fmf writers

Senses we do not know but use anyway

….the touch of experience, the taste of a new day

the sight of vision, the hearing of the muted, the sense of loss, the smell of hope,

the unseen tomorrow….these and some

stir my ‘heart ‘ – ah that organ of awareness we’ve placed somewhere ‘tween head & rib.

And oh when my spirit opens itself to pray…

what words could describe the Sensory of Prayer? We as a Race are sands shifting in the growing Light of Dawn,

Mike Haupt, thank you for Pic!

the growing Life of Light in my dark: the sight of things I touch in my core, by a power they call Faith…. what is that described? Must I describe it, for who? Why write, share moments broken from ‘accepted’ norms, why care, why heal? Why kneel, why weep joy,

Why bless for curses; why Love for hate, why rejoice in suffering, what is this; hell heaven, Christ, Lucifer and the Spirit of every man and woman and child – running deep from what we hide, deny

Like the spirit inside that keels, needs to pray

Eternity is for Real

The bird was there waiting, asking to be noticed. I stood staring at him against that blue sky and early moon all stark naked Reminders that Life went beyond gravity!

Ramona was buried yesterday;

Pic from our terrace

her husband and two sons stood tall by her grave: on Zoom it was surreal. A Mumbai cemetery rich with songs we sang as kids, about the Risen Savior, & oh where was death’s sting?! Ramona’s warm brown eyes and soft skin seemed closer, her easy laughter, subtle jewellry and gentle lip gloss mouthing words of love for Christ. We hadn’t met in years: but her passing brings me closer to the Reality of what the Cross does for us, 24x7xn! I’m feeling many Seasons in one, but especially Summer: warm like the embrace of the Father in a Time of fear, His Gospel of Peace.

Death is demanding.

It is not silent. It is an open conversation with what opposes Peace. It breaks us, it seals us to the ‘Unknown’. And we can turn our faces to all our walls all we want, but nothing buries Life. Love. Joy. The invisible presence of That. Of turning away from sin. Of repenting, and letting us be re- created in Christ. That Peace with God in Christ, is Peace.

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One of the last times I met Ramona we were at a beach; it was dusk on a busy shore. I don’t remember that we spoke many words, but what she and I utterly had in common was Christ:

the Christ Who found us in different rooms, in different differences, bridging barriers, crashing statements, limits.

Dusk, Bangalore

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How does one describe a place where Gravity does not exist, where Peace is no longer just a temporary Live-in partnership;

how do I bare my heart, except say it like it is:

The Cross doesn’t crucify me, it BARES MY SIN, THEN bears IT. The Cross shuts up satan: his War against our absolute eternal fulfillmenT.

OUR PEACE! THIS IS THE GOSPEL OF PEACE.

The mark of Christ is nothing like the beasts’:

Christ freeing you & me from short term satisfactions: Quick Fixes, begging for more. Not just blank-eyed druggies’, but Humanity altered by self abuse, by others’.

I was once confronted by a Nun(school principal) on why I followed Christ. You did not mess with Mother Grace, and as she looked in my face for a reply I said what had happened. “No one else came here looking for me…. “

Pic Courtesy Justin George

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Eternity pursues me, there’s a Name on It. Christ’s. There’s a Heaven even among us when we reflect True Love. And there’s a Hell horrific and more as the ones we rehearse on earth: of the worship of cravings. Every Dance, is arms reaching for the Invisible Partnership we know deep within, exists.

Deep inside we hunger for the One Who speaks in us ceaselessly: the dialect of a waiting Father.

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When I was carrying our first child, this horrific incident with the vegetable cart man happened:

one morning he was in the ground under the row of eucalyptus trees, writhing like a snake, a death rattle sound in his throat, it filled the entire noon; the man’s white shirt and pants, always spotless but not on that day. My mother asked me not to look. An expectant mother best not see such things, she said. But this was Ramu our friendly veggie man. They were getting someone to exorcise him, and it took till past 4 pm; a week later I met Ramu, now he was half his size.

Evil itself reveals the very presence of God, not one appeased by sacrifices. He is Light (we are all yet to be able to even look at Its lesser form: the sun):

He Who is Love, of Peace, Joy: three things satan cannot stand, leave alone claiming our Place by the blood of Jesus Christ His Son. Try it.

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But Ugh:

the incredible Power of Doubt: it can derail us totally.

Why consume the deadly whispers of satan when we have Christ’s Words that can do ALL for us? If we only knew the extent of This here.

Eternity is Real, and I am encouraged today to make it a huge part of my daily schedule. Yea Ramona, death has no sting, the grave no victory.

Christ took that.

Every flower is an Unburdening to the Light: every shadow clings to It. Every Leaf drinks Its Dew. We breathe to His Breath. Where does our breath go when spirit leaves?

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With Him it is Eternal DaySpring.

FMF Writers: this went beyond 15! (‘Summer‘ and what the Word stoked). Thank you my fabulous creative friends.