Month: Aug 2021

When healing comes it comes soft, or

sudden, like a miracle. Suspicious, I peer at It.

Ankesenamun

It seeps out like new petals, like the spread of new colour. Laughter tinges Its Stem. I sulk in the shadows, refusing to let go of the dark, it was my safe place but now Joy begins to bud! I believe that I cannot believe: whoa….the greatest war on the human spirit divides me right here : this firm insistence on the denial of the Touch of the Healer.

The room trembles with Peace, the mind of me reverts to memories of illness. God has never not walked right into my broken heart, He has never once left me alone. I have been touched over and over by the Hand of God and yet how deep is shallowness of the human, that I would resort to past sickrooms rather than remember the million miracles that are my itinerary.

As a new day begins I’ve never been as summoned by God as now. It doesn’t feel normal. It doesn’t feel safe. Hehe. My inner being revolts with the five senses. You know there are more than five. The sixth and seventh and nth sense are summed in Words we sniff at like wines tasters and net browsers: there’s Faith and Hope and Love. The greatest of these is Love:

not the transient self absorbed love that feeds need, but the Love of God that can walk right into a human room and lift the roof off with His Presence. The roof off our fire escapes and others. I’m grinning at the visual of that, as a new emotion unfurls. Faith is a substance. A fact. Not an invisibility. It bears root and stem and blossoms…

hey. Have a blessed day

Innerdialects.

(Also do check out Jon Bloom ‘s Article on Belief; found his website yesterday, am so grateful for the read).

Wrestling with an Angel

Is there a fear staring you in the face right now? Are you finding your faith in God’s promise shaking? If so, you are likely praying desperately for God to be with you. God will answer you. But you might, like Jacob in Genesis 32, be surprised by his answer.” Jon Bloom in “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

Today we faced a particularly difficult day with a young one who’s coping with medical challenges, we were worn out with love. Never used those words before, but there it was. As we huddled together in a quick call on the God Who made us all, these words went thru me, “…help us wrestle as we wrestle with our angel,” . This was in a way, our Lil Angel of Tough, teaching us lessons we didn’t know, but we were learning.

Sometimes we wrestle with an angel: the angel of pain, aloneness…look close.

Hulki OKan Tabak. Unsplash

Watch what happens.

Ach..Jacob wrestled with the Angel of God, He hurt his sinew, then pointed to a longer, tedious hazardous route in his journey, via southern Gilead, a den of thieves. What did the Angel whisper that Jacob obeyed, what did the hurt sinew do, but strengthen him to become Israel?

And when it was getting to dawn, Jake holds on to the Angel, “I will not let you go until you bless me…”

What secrets hide in such places that regular comforts fail to offer? Here we may falter, fail, recline in fear, doubt.

Worse. Often in our tangle with doubt, our greatest “Ally” will encounter us, even disable us till we realise the disabling process was enabling certain instincts we could never have guessed were within, just waiting its moment to be birthed. Now we are yelling, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” It is a miracle all by itself to be here where we now see what was needed the most.

The encounter breaks us, before taking us higher …like dawn. Oh like dawn.

There was Daniel, fatigued by an angelic visit he laydown exhausted, fevered. What more shall I say, we are ‘surrounded by a host of Witness more than we know’. Moses blanched white to the roots of his hair after a Tent meet with the God of Sinai.

Today if we’ve wrestled with a personal ‘Angel’, look in the mirror of the soul and soon oneday you will stop fighting the Challenge that was here in the first place to teach us to lean not on our own Fears, but on the One Who is above all human bondage.

Here, cherish Him, the Risen Savior Who lives that we too might stand ten feet tall, like standing grain,

It is not for nothing we wrestle.

Storm Song

You cannot withstand the storm,” It whispers. The Warrior whispers back, “I am the Storm.” Jake Remington.

N.S’Bi. Unsplash Images. Uploaded one day ago, from a city ravaged by the storms of human calculations & evil. Yet in the nuclei of this Thing, whether we see it or not, there is a new kind of mettle being born:


a new strength in weakness. Desperation will despair of itself, & birth New life among the dying: a new resilience born in times as these. There will be a Remnant:

little children will grow with Wings in their feet, and new Voice in lips that were sealed. The dead will speak. They will rise as the stars. The deaf will hear, and the blind will see what they could never have, if not for the Storm.

They will walk water and write in the wind with fingers of fire. They will sing, and it will be such a song as has never been heard, among a resurrection of Freedom like we have not seen: Heaven comes down for those who wait for it. They will rise on wings like an eagle, they will run and not be weary, walk and not faint. Teach me, teach me Lord.

FMF WRITERS

Healing from one bullet

I just saw this piece by Malala. If you haven’t heard about her, read on.

The chaos being experienced right now is not a distant event: it is the scream of humans that will follow us in ways we can’t know yet. What can we do? I’m praying. There’s people praying that those who can make a difference will do so.

https://podium.bulletin.com/269177711419542

I have so little left to say, just ask

  • What are we to teach our children?
Kiddie ‘lions’ @ the ‘Valley of Resistance’; Panjshir(five lions) the last bastion against the Taliban has not been accessible to terror/ war these 20 years owing to the valley that secures it. Today though the Lines fall in unpleasant places: reports come in of weakening battle fronts. One can only hope and pray for humane negotiations.
Will they hold out? How long? These are not battle – worn hard liners, these are someone’s daughters,and moms, wives. They are angry, fearful and armed with courage, …..but a match for a Force known for brutality?!

In the city I loved, suddenly nowhere was safe

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-south-asia-58071592

  • What is a woman’s worth/ a nation’s?
  • Is the equivalent of Peace~ War?
  • Is there a Global community of peace keepers ?
  • When will current conflicts end/how?
  • Do we realize its all more than earth life?
  • Do we think of our soul?
  • Are we totally de- sensitized to bloodshed/ to another’s war?

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-58329527

Panjshir Valley

What is the global community thinking after 20 years of a different take? I’m swallowing words. Its easy to spew things out in the ongoing aftermath of chaos, but this will impact generations to come like only hell can prescribe. Saigon and Hiroshima now live on within their maps. This here will bleed in every continent like ceaseless echoes in the mountains…

and that’s putting it sweet

and yet, the more we hurt, the more we keel, we look up at the sun, its stars and days of nights breaking into dawn, and don’t you too wonder how ceaseless the path of Light, like Love, true love

not a whim, a selfish need, but a Cross socially distanced from humans, who cannot believe there is One that died to speak Reconciliation, Oh God –

the more we die, the closer the sky falls in with Your Light. When will we all realize, we are fighting the thing we fear most- Your Presence oh God?

In the chaos, may we soften our heart, to hear You my Christ. May Your presence cast out all Fear, that the unseen enemy of the soul be eternally defeated.

Pray for Afghanistan

What you will see here are Photographs I just found @Unsplash by two Afghan Adventure Photographers, unsure if safe to publish names.

Wherever you are, we pray for your safety. Thank you for these stilling Captures

Pic N. D.
Pic S.G.


As people and parliaments the world over work towards an almost impossible Peace, we pray for wings like an eagle, for every child, man & woman – God that we would fly to You, our Rock of Soul Shelter,

Oh Father we ask that little boys and girls will run again in the streets, for the sound of guns going away, and the music of joy like hinds feet in high places… I pray that ...

Pic S. G
.

..that we be healed by the wounds of the Cross; & that the Blood of Jesus shed for all, will quench human cravings;

Pic S.G.

..that the Light of the World dawn, as only Light can, lifting the dark

Pic S. G.
Pic S.G.

That raiders of body & soul, & you and I hear the Voice of God breathing Peace

Pic N. D.
Pic N.D.

Above Paragraph written by N.D.

Thankyou both, you amazing humans. We wish you safety, joy, & peace but above all, we wish you Jesus.

Accountability

Holding hands together, palms warm with praying, the way children do- urgent, necessary quick, like they truly believe. Chocolates are needed now, or Pa needs his leg repaired, or a bicycle needs a new bell. Or it shouldn’t rain at noon today, or we need a puppy. Now. A child persists, he believes, he sees it happening and will not leave. He tugs sleeve, he makes a mess with tears and lip, he may even bruise his toe reaching for the answer. Holding hands with You the way….

PiCourtesy Kaushiki Choudary

**”

… a child prays, asking Love, Joy, Peace, asking that Humanity finds You;

asking that wounds become a healing place and death lose its proverbial sting, in the fact of Your Face my God my God.

Asking like children do, I hold Your Hand, the One nailed at the Cross. I ask if I may- healing for Peta’s daughter and job for Diran, for hospitals and govts to work well and for me to never stop holding Your Hand even after my shopping list is done, esp after that.

For FMF Writers.

Takeaways from a Cloud forest

I tried to pray out loud but there were no words, just clouds, walking loud into my eyes, like Tears of Heaven 

Yes I love mountains, hills: but this trip was clouds. From where we were at Tipu Sultan’s Sunrise Point,

Dawn was faster than our fingers could capture…
We’d slept in late. The suite was a surprise, unlisted in Bookings; 22 hours at Nandi hills, nestling in rain clouds. Feeling blest was a miracle all by itself.
All God’s creatures. Thanks Vi for this one, wish you were in it though. The monkas made us run. Lil terrors grabbed my bag twice (monkeys)
Wild nameless beauties

Sunset, innerdialects.

City lights

For one who is scared of heights, maybe I’m cured? 4600 ft felt good

In the stillness, you hear His Still small voice.
Pitch black night; blanked by cloud.
Moth wouldn’t move much. Was either pregnant or lazy.😲 And we are all Co- habitants of the same planet.

Vi & I sat staring into dawn after everyone else bundled back to bed. “Its not raining- like the forecast …?”

She replied, “Ma, will it feel like rain inside a cloud?”

A Gandhi man, in metal paint, green bowl. Foothills, Nandidurg.
Takeaways from a Cloud forest.

Stay warm, safe, blest! Pray.

FMF writers.