A Language Understood by All

I noticed him straight away. Tall, gaunt and a bit unsteady walking into the street alley. I wondered if he was drunk, but he didn't seem drunk. I saw him register at the medical counter; ahh, he must be sick. Let's see if I get the chance to at least pray for him after the makan. I have come to regard every Saturday feeding as an opportunity to 'connect' someone with Jesus, as I seek God's help to make it with the people He chooses.

Today for once I could 'rest'; as we had a big team of young, energetic and very capable youths from some church who had volunteered to run the entire programme from worship to preaching to feeding, with translation from Bahasa to Mandarin also thrown in. And the crowd got to listen to someone else other than 'old aunty' for a change! So I was free to move around. I parked myself next to an old uncle who was a 'regular' of many years; he was at the street feeding even before I joined. Yet it was only about a month or so ago that I really got to know him. It's strange how for so long, I would see him, seated quietly by himself every Sat. I noticed he was always decently dressed, in long-sleeved shirt and all , and he would see me, but we have never talked until now. It's as if God takes His own sweet time in 'preparing the stage' for an encounter with Him.

 As it is, dear uncle was shocked at my audacity in presenting a mortal man who claimed to be God. The first time I told him about Jesus, he shook his head vehemently and declared in his mother-tongue, "It cannot be. How can it be? that God has a Son? God is God." It got worse when I talked about Jesus rising alive from the grave. "Impossible. It's just a story told by his people to confuse others to believe. All lies ". I almost gave up at his (valid) protests. Certainly, the story of Jesus really doesn't make sense, considered from purely human logical thinking. I understood why uncle had such  difficulty relating to how an Almighty God could cook up such an incredulous scheme of redemption - through dying on a cross and then coming back alive. But when I started talking about love, uncle listened - finally a small crack in the heart. Over the weeks, he quietened down as I told him the reason why Jesus offered Himself as a living sacrifice to take the punishment of our sin. Over Easter week-end, he acknowledged there is no greater love than that a total stranger should die for him.  Yet he wasn't ready to take that final step of commitment, to receive that stranger as his Savior. But there is hope; as I prayed for him to know the love of God revealed in Jesus Christ, he nodded his head and said, "I hope your prayer comes true for me". That's enough for me, at this stage anyway. God  had broken through years of conditioning in this old man to bring him to this point  to consider Jesus who loved him first.

As I moved off , I saw the sick man still sitting at the medical station. The place was almost empty by then; the doctor was seeing her last few patients . I sat down beside him and asked if the doctor had treated him. He nodded and said he had to go to hospital. And straight away I knew he had AIDS. I touched his hand, his forehead, it was hot; he was burning up with fever, and having difficulty breathing. I asked if there was anyone to take him to hospital; he nodded and said he was waiting for one of the workers there. I asked further if he was afraid, he shook his head. And he started talking about how he had entered a Christian rehab centre, tried to read the Bible they gave him, but couldn't understand becoz no one explained to him....

Didn't I say, God prepares the stage for every encounter with Him? I spent the next 20 minutes telling a sick (and probably dying) man the greatest story on earth ever told about the greatest Man who ever lived and the greatest gift of God available to all who would believe. I thought it was a piece of cake, I have told it so many times to so many people but.... so much for my story-telling techniques....after all that, he looked at me, heaving, and breathed out  "I don't understand". And just then the doctor who was seated by the side already wrapping up her stuff, leaned over a little and told me, "Aunty, I would advise you don't sit so near him. He's HIV patient (she obviously thought I didn't know) His saliva can get on you; it's infectious. You should wear a mask". For a moment, I was taken aback. This, coming from a medical professional? And for a split second, a brief flash of fear, as I remembered I had some open scratches on my arm. Immediately I prayed silently. And I turned back to the man; I had a job to do, and by hook or by crook, I would do it today, because in all likelihood we would never meet again, at least on this side of earth.  I went slow, he was after all from Myanmar. "There's only 2 things to understand. 1.Jesus loves you. 2.Jesus saves you. Can understand?" He nodded and in between coughing and heaving, followed me in prayer. God had broken through to another heart.

Again and again, I find this phenomenon so true. Actually God makes everything so simple. It's man who complicates matters. The old uncle, schooled in religion, couldn't understand, he asks, how can God......? A foreigner even when given the Bible couldn't understand all the talk about sin, repentance and judgement (probably because he was too sick to care anyway). But one thing both could and did understand - the language of love - God's love expressed and manifested in a man named Jesus Christ who lived, died and rose again to save the world. Actually, that's all that's needed to be understood really - even if we understand nothing else.

"But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved" Ephesians 2:4-5

Who tries Who

My kids introduced me into watching this glamor series about hot-shot lawyers called "The Good Wife". For awhile I was 'hooked'; partly because the actors were handsome and the actresses pretty (ok, so they always are!) and partly because of my own legal background. After awhile I got bored of keeping up with the "who is sleeping with who and who's murdering who " plots. Besides the court dramatization was just that - drama. Watching the series however did trigger off memories of my days in legal practice. Not that I had much "air time" in court then. I never did any criminal cases, though I have tagged along senior counsel who did them during my chambering days. I was into civil litigation, but apart from 1 and only 1 case (which I am ashamed to say I lost as a novice lawyer who didn't know her stuff on civil procedure) , I never went 'all the way' into a full trial throughout my 6 odd years of practice. Nothing exciting ever happened when I was appearing before judges in court. And more often than not, I would be drinking coffee with my "worthy opponent" counsel after a court session, since we were all mostly interested in settling rather than fighting cases. I don't know if maybe American court-rooms are really so full of drama as portrayed on screen, but there is one trial which happened 2013 years ago that never fails to capture my imagination to this day.

It was by all accounts a rather strange trial. The defendant was accused of just 1 "crime" - blaspheming God by claiming to be God Himself. The prosecution was the public, represented by religious experts of the day. The judge - a Roman governor who feared man more than God who was more interested in (literally) washing his hands off the problematic defendant than facing the Truth. There was no defense counsel; all His disciples had deserted Him. The sentence was crucifixion on a cross. All the ingredients of high drama were there; undoubtedly it would have qualified as THE TRIAL of the century. No one could present any evidence to prove the 'charge'. In fact the judge had ruled "I find no basis for a charge against him."(John 19:4) but He was crucified anyway. Surely this was a travesty of justice. Moral and legal conscience says no innocent man should be condemned. Yet Jesus was condemned by man. How can man condemn God? How can the earthly judge the divine? It is more than a travesty of justice, it's totally...upside down. I know of no other word. If Jesus was the Almighty God, why would He allow Himself to be judged by His creation? Isn't it meant to be the other way round?

Every Easter the old story of Jesus being crucified is replayed through drama/sermons in every church. And every time the image of the cross pierces my heart, as I recognize it should be me, the sinner on that cross, not Jesus who had no sin. My pastor pointed out in his Good Friday message that it wasn't people who 'decided' the case against Jesus Christ - legally and morally speaking, there was absolutely no case against Him at all. It was Jesus Himself who decided to go to the cross - "No one takes it (my life) from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again." (John 10:18) What's this - masochistic lunacy or suicidal tendency? Hardly, Jesus certainly didn't 'fancy' the suffering of the cross; He prayed 3x  in Gethsemane that 'this cup' could be taken from Him. And it wasn't suicide; very human humans tortured and ultimately hung Him to the cross.

Lots of people wait for God to 'prove' Himself, without realizing or accepting that He already did. "He saved others," they said, "but he can't save himself! He's the King ..! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, 'I am the Son of God." (Matt 27:42-43). That was the demand of people those days, the same demand is being made these days - Let "God" show Himself to me, then I will believe. But Jesus Christ never did come down from the cross. His 'proof' was the cross on Friday and an empty tomb on Sunday. A very dead man, risen gloriously alive, 3 days later a living God - He proved His case - there is God, and He loves us. It's only a matter of whether we want to accept and receive that as the truth, and nothing but THE truth. Like the Bible puts it, "they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead" (Luke 16:31). When Paul presented the resurrection of the dead to the top philosophers of his day in Athens,  some mocked, while others said, "We will hear you again on this matter." (Acts 17:32). Like them, today, we can make all sorts of justification, argue about proof and interpretations about God, delay or postpone making a decision . But end of the day, if we don't wanna believe, we won't believe, no matter what 'proof' there is. And that's the saddest thing, becoz in 'sitting on the fence' waiting for God to do something we want Him to do our way, we miss out on the greatest life  that we can have right now, here and in the hereafter,  if we would only accept what He has already done His way.
 
End of the day it's not God who's on trial today (His 'trial' was over 2013 years ago) - it's us. The question isn't about God, it's about what will you do with Jesus Christ.

"I have come as a light into the world, that whoever believes in Me should not abide in darkness. And if anyone hears My words and does not believe, I do not judge him; for I did not come to judge the world but to save the world. He who rejects Me, and does not receive My words, has that which judges him--the word that I have spoken will judge him in the last day" - John 12:46-48 
"Whoever believes....has eternal life, but whoever rejects... will not see life, for God's wrath remains on them"  - John 3:36

A small thing

 This is the real story of a mother and her 2 daughters over a small thing... a lost shawl. Trouble was it wasn't just any shawl. It was a gift to the mom from her dearly beloved brother, woven out of Pashmina wool, bought all the way from Nepal. Purportedly the best quality because the wool is only available from a certain breed of mountain goats in the cold high altitudes (14,000 ft)  of the Himalayas. Only the undercoat (belly down) wool is used and a single goat only produces 3 oz of this wool; it needs 3 goats to produce 1 shawl. And it has to be woven by hand-loom, because the wool is too fragile for machines. So much for a shawl.

The 2 daughters had, between them, been using it on occasion. No one knows who kept or used it last. Obviously no one saw it either. One day the mom asked for it to be returned as she was going overseas to a rather cold country. Each daughter denied any knowledge or sight of the shawl. Each dutifully searched their cupboards and of coz each vehemently maintained innocence whilst offering to buy another shawl to replace it. But the mother didn't want another shawl, indeed she had tons of other shawls in her wardrobe. The replacement offer, though rightly made, was surely misplaced as it would never have compensated for the sentimental value attached to that which was lost. As the mom read the sms-es exchanged, she felt not just anger, disappointment and hurt but a deep sadness in her heart. Not because of the loss; indeed the shawl was a small thing. But there was a bigger issue involved which seemed to have been missed in the whole affair. And that simply was 1 word which wasn't said in any of the daughters' explanations, defenses, excuses and offers of restituition. And that short word was simply - Sorry. And the mom was left wondering, how had she failed in raising her children that they didn't recognize the need to acknowledge and admit a wrong done?

I guess that's what grieves God's heart the most too. Actually I could have told the mom it's nothing new really. After all when Adam and Eve did wrong, eating of the forbidden fruit, they never said Sorry. Instead they invented the first blame-game in history. Adam sulked and told God, "The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it." (Genesis 3:12). Classic, and that's probably why women get blamed - for everything, from not being able to produce sons to being too thin, too fat, too whatever. Well, Eve wasn't to be outdone either, she pouted and told God in the very next breath, "The serpent deceived me, and I ate." (Genesis 3:13) Another classic. Blame it on anything/anyone or something/someone else. Well, at least the snake didn't make any further excuses. Man, it would have been such a comedy if it weren't such a tragedy. And like they say, that's the way the cookie rumbles...

Right through the days of Eden, down through the ages of civilization (so-called), humans haven't really changed that much, sadly. We still look for loop-holes. We continue to justify and excuse our lapses and call it 'being human' to err. We are so quick to defend our position, no matter if it's right or wrong. (Oh no, we are never wrong, it's always 'the other fella' who is wrong). We are very good in using semantics to gloss over  certain tough issues in life. These are excerpts of an opening speech which was apparently made by Minister Joe Wright of the Kansas Senate
"...We have lost our spiritual equilibrium and reversed our values.
We have exploited the poor and called it the lottery.
We have rewarded laziness and called it welfare.
We have killed our unborn and called it choice.
We have shot abortionists and called it justifiable.
We have neglected to discipline our children and called it building self esteem .
We have abused power and called it politics .
We have coveted our neighbor's possessions and called it ambition.
We have polluted the air with profanity and pornography and called it freedom of expression.
We have ridiculed the time-honored values of our forefathers and called it enlightenment...."

He was talking about America, but it seems to me the description fits the current times we live in pretty accurately. So we commend each other on how 'well' the human race has 'evolved'. We have become so smart, so 'liberated'.

But the 1 word that is so essential to our soul's well-being we 'forget' and/or refuse to say.  All the mom wanted to hear was Sorry. The same word God wants to hear from mankind - Sorry. Because all have sinned, big time, small time, 1 time, many times (no thanks to our first ancestors for passing on the 'sin' gene to all generations). But we would rather not face the truth of how God views us. The daughters failed to see it thru their mom's eyes. To them, it was 'just' a shawl, a small thing. But they completely missed the point;  it was never about the shawl to  mommy. It was about repentance, admitting ie agreeing that they had done wrong in being careless. Now that's a big deal . As much as God loves us, it's only when we choose to repent of our sin (ie agree with Him that we are indeed sinners) , then only do we get it 'right'. And then only will we recognize our need of the Savior whom God has sent into this world - Jesus Christ. If we don't, we completely miss the point and the truth of Christianity, and will just dismiss it as another 'good' religion.

Behind a small thing, there's a big deal.  The story doesn't end there. The daughters duly apologised to their mom after being pointed out the error of their ways and she forgave them . She duly went overseas and there found another Pashmina shawl. She bought it without asking them to pay, for it was expensive. She had decided she would bear the loss herself, even tho it wasn't her fault. That's what Jesus did. Our sin wasn't His fault; but He paid the (very expensive) price , by dying on the cross and going to hell for it, bearing the punishment meant for us. That's love, totally unconditional. That's grace, totally undeserved. And because He did what He did, God raised Him up alive from the grave, living proof to those who choose to believe Him that the promise of  freedom of an abundant on earth and eternal life in heaven is for real. That's salvation, and that's the greatest possible ending to the story of any and every human being.

"The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. Instead He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." 2 Peter 3:9

Peace that is not of this world

  She had a tube in her nose. Her eyes were swollen. She kept moaning and shaking her head as if trying to get rid of some unseen thing bothering her. Now and then she coughed, wincing. Her suffering was painful to behold. I stood by her hospital bed-side and held her shriveled bandaged hand in mine, trying to massage some relief into her. She was conscious and not conscious. She didn't know me, and I didn't know her. But the message that had come from this 96 year old lady's grand-daughter was simple - please pray for my grandma....she screams in pain. I just want her to go peacefully, without any more suffering. How can one not respond to a heart's cry like that? Another similar one from a fren whose husband had been diagnosed with final stage cancer.... Please pray for peace...He has been in and out of hospital. I want God's will to be done quickly. One week later, I attended his funeral wake. Over in Sabah, after more than 3 weeks stand-off, violence broke out between M'sian security forces and Sulu invaders, resulting in some 60 over deaths. Even as the pre-election rhetoric gets pumped up by every political party, prayers are being offered up for peace to prevail whatever the outcome, because everyone is being warned of possible chaos.

If there is an over-riding virtue that the world needs which everyone is agreed on, I venture to guess peace would make it as number 1 on most people's list, whether it's for individuals, groups or nations. But what exactly is peace? To most it simply means no suffering or no war. Someone once said "Peace is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it." Towards that end, humans devise all types of methods to "make" peace, as if it's something that one can manufacture and pour out of a bottle onto a hurting earth. We book holidays to some remote island somewhere in the hope of 'finding' peace, at least for a little while before we re-join the mad rat race in the concrete jungles of life. We sign up for all sorts of classes guaranteed to 'tune' us into the 'inner peace' that's touted as the ultimate fulfilment of living. Still nothing has succeeded in quelling the unease of human hearts over painful circumstances. Meanwhile government power-brokers sit at round-tables negotiating and signing off treaties committing to world peace. Yet if the statistics are correct, for the year 2012, 60 out of some 200 countries of the world are at war with each other. 

The Bible talks about peace a lot. Apparently the word 'peace' is mentioned 429 times in the King James version of the Bible (that's enuf to last more than a whole year in duration if it's spoken once each day). Interestingly, the very first greeting the angels brought at the birth of Jesus 2013 years ago was a declaration of "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom His favor rests" (Luke 2:14). It's obvious God is interested in peace as much as we are, but He didn't write a "30 days to Peace" book. He didn't expound any nice theories about the psychology of peace. Nor did He devise any feel-good techniques to help us cope with the stresses and strains of living on this earth. He simply sent a Man whom the prophet foretold as the "Prince of Peace". 

Jesus declared, "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid" (John 14:27) What a strange gift. He talks about a peace that is not of this world. What other kind of peace is there? American and Trappist monk Thomas Merton knows “We are not at peace with others because we are not at peace with ourselves, and we are not at peace with ourselves because we are not at peace with God”. Echoes of this from Ralph Waldo Trine who says “To be at one with God is to be at peace ... ” And finally C.S.Lewis puts his finger on the pie with this conclusion: "God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing" This is the peace of God, which differs from the so-called peace the world understands it to be. Man's idea of peace depends on circumstances.No suffering, no war, no conflict equals peace.

But Jesus tells us point blank "In this world you will have trouble"...the ultimate trouble being the inescapable fact that the human body will grow old, get sick and then die. What a depressing thought. What's the point of all our striving and contending for a 'better' life on earth, if it's all gonna end up in the grave anyway? Or equally depressing (to me at least) is the view that humans need to go thru dunno how many other life-times of suffering to be 'purified' and finally disappear into the 'blessedness' of being nothing. But what's so blessed about being 'nothing'?? God started with nothing and created all things to be. I want me, my life to mean something, and not be reduced to zilch. Nothingness won't bring me peace.

When I attended the funeral wake of that dear brother, I found myself seated next to a lady who disclosed that she had watched 3 family members - husband, and 2 brothers - die. Man, and I thought I had it bad! Yet her eyes shone with a light that spoke of a calm and settled heart. We immediately connected because I recognized she and I had found the same thing in facing the death of loved ones...Not resignation or despair , on the contrary, peace and hope. The same thing that my husband spoke of as he was dying when Pastor asked him why he suddenly wanted to become a Christian, whereas he had objected so strongly before. He simply said, "because now I know.... now I know peace". He had made right with God by acknowledging his need of a Savior, somehow recognizing in his spirit that there was only 1 way to do that - through Jesus Christ - and in return he had received God's assurance he was forgiven of all his sins. That had brought the needed peace to the heart, a confidence that takes every believer through the valley of the shadow of death and over into the sunshine of eternity, safe in the arms of Jesus.

Easter is coming round again. But it doesn't take Easter to remind me how blessed I am to have obtained the peace that goes beyond human understanding. Yet to the logical mind, it seems ludicrous really...How can a guy hanging on a cross, bleeding to death, claim to be able to reconcile man to man and man to God? How can the death of 1 Man bring peace to the world of men? Because peace has a price, and Jesus paid it at the cross. From out of that suffering flowed reconciliation, His blood opening up the way back for sinful man to approach holy God. From out of death, He arose alive, proof and promise of a much much better life in eternity to come. 

That's the real peace which is forever. We can fake it, but we can't 'make' it . Only Jesus can, as Apostle Paul said it, "For He Himself is our peace" (Ephesians 2:14) We won't fnd peace secluded in even the most beautiful place on earth. We won't find peace living out a philosophy or religion. We won't find peace feeling, doing or being good. We won't find peace no matter how many accords are signed in its name. Sure, we can have (momentary) peace of the world. But that's not IT. It's like saying I can have a good life without Jesus, sure everyone can; indeed it can even be a very 'good' life. But I can't have THE BEST life without Him.There is a difference. I, for one, definitely don't wanna miss out on that, after all, I have lived the past 12 years experiencing the truth of His promise and my Prince of Peace has never failed me. 



"For to us a Child is born, to us a Son is given, and the government will be on His shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace" ....Isaiah 9:6

 

New Delhi 2013

Trip after trip, time after time, I see the same images.... dust everywhere, waves of humanity weaving thru endless days of toil, the filth of human slums, dirty children who despite their condition still run around, smile and play like kids will, women's faces lined with the sorrows of a lifetime bound by poverty and oppression, lonely old men lumbering around in a home for the aged, homeless poor sleeping on road-shoulders. It's not a nice picture. And it sticks in  my mind like a revolving kaleidoscope of nameless lives whose only fault is to be born into  a tough world. They know no other world. Yet I know there is another much better world besides theirs; the world that I live in and oft times take so much for granted (and still gripe about so much). There's nothing like a trip to India to make me grateful for the life I am so blessed with.

7 days in New Delhi and 3 days in Chennai went like a blur. After every missions trip I have difficulty adjusting to my 'normal' life. It's hard to get back to normal mode, after hours of walking in and out of 'houses' so tiny its kitchen is a plain gas stove on the floor, where 1 single thin mattress is bed to a family of 6 and there is barely standing room to move around. Where 'normal' is Q-ing in line to collect trickles of water flowing from a pipe jutting out into filthy water-logged drains. It's disgusting, yes.And heart-wrenching.


India always makes me cry, because once again I am reminded of the sheer magnitude and enormity of a suffering world around me. But what gives me hope over the tears is seeing the grace of redemption beyond the suffering. The church we connected with in New Delhi met in a small, somewhat run-down basement. They didn't have any hi-tech screen displays or hi-fi sound system. The kids sat up front on rough carpet, together with any adults who couldn't find any more chairs to sit on. What touched our hearts was that every meal we ate was sponsored by different families voluntarily taking turns over the days.  Our last meal there was prepared by a sister who, despite having so little, cooked a whole pot of not just chicken but chicken drumsticks for us. Pastor informed us he had told her no need as he knew her situation, yet she had insisted to cook for us. It was a labor of true love, offered  to us, as a service unto God. It reminded me of the widow in the Bible who offered up 2 copper coins as tithes being commended by Jesus because out of her poverty, she put in everything—all she had to live on (Mark 12:44). This is grace. It was more than just a case of being hospitable. None of them need go out of their way like this for us, as we were really complete strangers to them. Or they could easily have arranged to buy pre-packed food for us. But they took all the trouble to cook every dish personally. This kind of hospitality can only come out of a divine love that has been placed into their hearts to love others because of the God who first loved them. 

I was preaching at an outreach of a lady pastor who got saved some 25 years ago when her husband abandoned her at age 21 with an 11 month old baby in her hands. She now ministers to ladies who are traumatized by abuse or abandonment. After the service, a young lady stood up to testify how Jesus healed her when doctors couldn't do anything about her entire throat/stomach which had been burnt thru by the acid she consumed in an attempted suicide after the death of father and husband. As we were about to leave, a sister drew us apart with a request for prayer as she was going to visit a teenager who had been sexually abused by an uncle. I left this church with a lump in my throat. This is grace which empowers suffering people to reach out to touch other suffering people with the love of Christ.

This is the grace of the redeemed, which even in the most helpless of situations, works hope and joy because all it takes is a glimmer of light  to disperse the gloom of darkness. And I remember....God still works miracles today in our midst, to let us see the beauty of the human soul which is saved by His grace, in spite of the harshness of life's realities. It's 1 precious soul at a time, because God cares for each and every 1; and to everyone who responds to His love, He pours out much more grace for that 1 to love another.

I always get back more when I go for missions. For all the money I pay to go, for all the effort of preparation, for all the inconveniences of not being able to sleep in strange places and having to live out of a suit-case, I am the one who returns blessed as I see God's hand so much more clearly  in circumstances beyond my control. I learn humility and surrender when the opportunity to do what I want is snatched away, when the crowd is small, when people don't respond to what I thought was a pretty good sermon on my part, when nothing seems to happen as I pray.  It shows up the shallowness of my motive in serving self/man rather than God. Every now and then I find I need that kind of  'kick' to keep me humble, so that I don't get 'too big for my shoes', and think I am some hot-shot evangelist or miracle healer. I learn to submit to God's will for that situation, trusting that He works all things out for good to those who love Him and according to His purpose. I learn to be thankful for His protection which always comes at the right time, even when we don't even realize we are in danger. On the final day, as we were being driven to the airport, unknown to any one of us, we were traveling on a punctured tyre for dunno how many miles in bad traffic. It was only when the driver pulled up for gas that it was discovered - at a very convenient spot right in the heart of town, where we could catch a bite before boarding the plane home. Call it what you will, to me this is mercy from a God of grace.

Put quite simply, India grows me up a little bit more every time I go. 


For pix click here

The Extra in the Ordinary

Just another Sat feeding on the street, or so I thought as I squinted my eyes against the afternoon sun. Everyone looked kind-of 'wilted' for the heat was really bad. It wasn't my turn to preach, so I could basically do my own thing. Which thing is normally to sit down beside whomever I felt led to and start a conversation. As I looked around, I saw him. He wasn't a 'newbie', I had noticed him a few months ago as he stood out with his white hair and white beard. There was an empty chair beside him; that as good as meant 'go' to me.

So I parked myself down next to him and was going to talk about something inane, like the weather.But instead he caught me totally off guard by announcing first, "I saw Mother Mary." And so started one of the strangest conversations in my years of ministering on the streets. He declared, " I am 66 years old,  people may think I am mad, but I am not. About 2 years ago, one night I was trying to sleep. I really saw her, she was wearing this long white flowy robe with a veil,  and in her hands she held up a cross but it was enclosed in such a bright light it blinded me, and she put the light into my heart. I felt a power that shook my whole body". I was fascinated, but wary, "So uncle, how do you know it was Mother Mary?" "I know" was the confident answer (that from a non-Christian).  "So what do you know about Mary?" I probed, and he said, "People tell me she is mother of Jesus". So far so good. I took another step, "So who is Jesus?" He replied, "I don't know, for past 3 weeks I have been wondering who is Jesus?" So I told him the simple story of Jesus, sent from heaven, come to earth through the womb of a virgin named Mary. How He died on the cross for the sins of mankind, went to hell taking the punishment meant for us, and rose alive 3 days later, to go back to heaven to prepare a place for those who call on His name, making good God's promise that whomsoever believes in Him shall never perish but have eternal life. "Uncle, do you understand?"


He was nodding his head, his eyes lighted up. As I paused awhile, he butted in and as he spoke, I knew I was onto a miracle. "3 weeks ago, I was on my jaga kereta rounds, a very well-dressed man got down from a big Honda bike and said to me, You follow Jesus, you just follow Jesus. My fren asked me if I knew him and why the man talk like that, I said I don't know, he is a stranger. Since then, I haven't slept well; it's as if my heart is divided into 2. I ask, who is Jesus? I don't know Him. My frens don't know Him. I don't know who to ask. Who can tell me? And today, you come....please tell me some more about Jesus". If there weren't so many people about, I would have fallen down on my knees and shouted Hallelujah...I have never met such an open heart, so ready to receive. When I finally asked him the all important question, "Do you want Jesus, uncle?" He looked straight into my eyes and shot back without any hesitation, "Of coz I want, why wouldn't I want Him?"
Why indeed? If only he knew.... how many many people there are who can come up with a million and 1 reasons why they don't want Jesus, despite hearing and understanding who He is, even despite going to church and listening to countless sermons from the pulpit.  People who would choose to live their own  life, rather than the abundant  life God has prepared for all who would believe. Yet here is this 66 years old illiterate ex-drug addict living on the streets, who freely admits he is a sinner and has no problems accepting Jesus as the Savior of his soul the very first time he hears the gospel message. We may think such people soo naive and gullible, he doesn't know any better; he hasn't read any philosophy, he has never debated the theories of religion nor pondered the mysteries of God. Nope, he definitely hasn't. But 1 thing he has done, that made all the difference -  he responded to God with an open mind and open heart. And that's what matters ultimately.

I have always longed for an 'encounter' with God; up close and personal. I still do. But I never remember dreams, I don't 'hear' voices, I rarely see visions. Still it doesn't bother me much that God doesn't choose such dramatic ways of assuring me He exists. I know He does, and I know He loves me. To hear this man's testimony is merely confirmation of what I already know. If we all needed to 'see' God before we will believe, if we must have all our questions and doubts answered first , that's not faith. Sure, the world says seeing is believing. Well, Jesus says, "just believe" (Mark 5:36)....and may I add, then you will see.

An hour had passed. Noticing that he was the last one still holding onto his plate of unfinished rice, the old man hurriedly wolfed down the food that had grown cold in his hands since we started talking, as he said "I feel so light now, as if a heavy weight has been lifted from my heart. The food tastes better today...look, your hair is on my plate"...He pointed to a strand of hair that must have come from my head, whilst we were so engrossed about Jesus (yes, yes, besides growing white, my hair is also dropping off, so what else is new?!)  I started apologizing, most embarrassed about dirtying what would probably be his 1 and only decent meal for the day... he protested instead, "No, no, its ok. This is good sign. In my culture we believe your hair on my plate means we forever friends... I pray to Jesus for you and your family."  (I had told him about how Jesus had come into my life 12 years ago, when I was quite unable to cope with a dying husband, no job and 3 young kids.) I was so touched, I felt like bursting into song, for it was incredible to see the glow in his whole countenance, literally radiating joy from within. He thanked me, but I knew actually I am the one so blessed to be able to witness God's very real presence in a life touched and transformed by Jesus.

It was an ordinary life, an ordinary day, but invaded by an extra-ordinary God, a miracle happened. A sinner met God, repented, believed and got more than a plate of curry chicken rice (with a strand of hair in it). He now has Jesus. And the whole of heaven rejoices with us.

"You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart" - Jeremiah 29:13