Sunday, May 3, 2020

Giver of life

Do you remember the story of the valley of bones? When the prophet of old prophesied upon them so flesh and skin grew around it? When with a simple sentence they came unto life, myriads upon myriads of dead coming to life?
Do you remember the story of that pile of mud formless that it was was made human with one breath?
Do you remember the stories of the millions of nothingness making millions of sense and bringing forth endless stories of love and hate?  of hope and despair? of beauty and disdain? of life and death?
Do you remember your utter shame when you  danced as free as the wind but saw all these eyes upon you?
Do you sit there looking upon that empty ceiling wondering why did we not think painting it sky, moon and stars for ourselves but did it for kids? Why we have grown old to contemplate the sun and ponder about the colour of wine only to sip it a gulp at a time?
Within me that hallow of a heart I gripped! Among hazy images of daises white and yellow I found me dancing. Slightly touching the fresh green grass with the tips of fingers I felt it. I was flying. As I was plunging into the blue sky, treading rather lightly the path of sanity  Shadows threatening... drinking songs rising... With the crow and raven I danced... with the myth and mysteries I flattered... I rubbed myself so close to emptiness that I was filled to the brim with the delights of endless echoes. Between the silences of the songs of my soul I heard it calling.  Between the drums, the rising rhythm of the tribes gathering around the fires, pieces of my scattered thoughts started to take shape... Between the cracks of the trees emerged the leaf. I laid there feeling blood running through my veins. My dry bones ached. Flesh was forming and it was not pleasant. Do you remember the story of the valley of bones? When the prophet of old prophesied upon them so flesh and skin grew around it? When with a simple sentence they came unto life, myriads upon myriads of dead coming to life? He breathed and it came to be? A rush of emotions ran through me at once... all the shame, all the tears, all my fears, all my anxious being... that stinking death that was about me... fell as a final curtain falls. You know it is done. It was done with me. Life took me as her prisoner. The giver of life was silenced once and for all for me. Death took hold of me an instant but Life set me free forever.
I may dwell aimlessly but I have  found me an eternal home where the ceiling is painted of all the stars of eternity and the flowers of the world... where the sun never sets and the fires never burn... where I dance shamelessly before every gazing eye... For the Giver of Life breathed unto me.

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

Summer Spinet

Behold the Handfuls... 
Our Master's field is very rich; behold the handfuls. See, there they lie before thee, poor timid believer! Gather them up, make them thine own, for Jesus bids thee take them.
A teacup. 
Some fresh mint, crushed seedless grapes, and iced black tea! A kind person making a living out of brewing  tea... at a stand on one hot summer night. I had my cup refilled all that evening. Unsolicited. Gratis.

A backseat book.

Token of gratitude for a totally deliberate service.

Two Flower shoots.

A generous lady pulling out two lovely flower giving plant to re-pot at home so I may have angels visiting me every single time they bloom!

A few too many other generous thoughts towards me
We are to regard existence as a raid or great adventure; it is to be judged, therefore, not by what calamities it encounters, but by what flag it follows and what high town it assaults. The most dangerous thing in the world is to be alive; one is always in danger of one’s life. But anyone who shrinks from that is a traitor to the great scheme and experiment of being.

– G.K. Chesterton

A beautiful picture of Paris on a pink flaming evening...

A Saint.
In Memoriam... 
And when Sam heard that he laughed aloud for sheer delight, and he stood up and cried: 'O great glory and splendour! And all my wishes have come true!' And then he wept.      And all the host laughed and wept, and in the midst of their merriment and tears the clear voice of the minstrel rose like silver and gold, and all men were hushed. And he sang to them, now in the Elven-tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.      And at the last, as the Sun fell from the noon and the shadows of the trees lengthened, he ended. 'Praise them with great praise!' he said and knelt.
– J.R.R. Tolkien

A Wedding. My Sister's!

You have set upon their heads crowns of precious stones.They asked life of You, and You gave it to them.
And so starts September... 

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Of Iced Coffee and Narrow Paths

And so it is... In this hot weather I decided to chill my coffee...

I sat there watching the ice cubes enjoy their little swim in the beautiful sea of dark aromas. After a few dances they decided to rest in an almost perfect circle at the edge of the cup. Almost perfect because one cube was missing to complete the ring! 

I kept trying to fix it with the straw but alas, I was making it worse, melting them away... I stopped trying and took a sip and then another... then looked again into the cup for some sort of revelation and I saw it right there: the complete circle, the perfect ring! Effortless... except maybe for a couple of massive glups! 

I knew I was hitting the bottom. I was hitting it in that cup, I was hitting it in the cup of life I am drinking too. But right there at the very bottom, the gap was tighter, the loop was closed. I remembered the narrow road... I remembered the path I have chosen... I remembered why I was drinking that cup... and I remembered that as we draw nearer to the centre, as we draw near the source, it gets harder but it gets perfect too... And I saw them together, these lovely cubes, almost vanishing but in a beautiful unity as if resting after a long race... and right then and there, I lifted up my eyes from the depth... and from the depth...

De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine...

Let's drink to that!

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Of Choices and Life (again!)

I have been having trouble to sleep these couple of days therefore you get the fruit of my sleeplessness- an old memory, a timeless ramble! 

​I have realized that at the last breath, when you have given everything you could give for someone or a cause, and the doors get slammed in your face and you feel utterly destroyed, your heart feels shredded and perhaps your dignity lost or at least in your mind your image fails to meet the standard you have set for yourself or they have set for you, when your blood wants to stop running and you just want the world the pause... It is when you feel you have no more choices but to resign... I have realized that it is then that you have all the choices... It is then that the eternal choice "today choose between life or death" is offered to you on a silver tray and your decision at that moment will set your life either to destruction or to rise from its pit and sore on wings of eagles... 
It is then that you are before the ultimate choice to either choose Him or choose yourself and that choice will matter a matter of life and death!

Hiding our scars is a truly natural thing perhaps. I imagine no one wants to be walking around with stains on their blouses or with with huge birthmarks on their foreheads!
But there they are, and there we are and we have to live with then until we grow accustomed to it, till it reaches the point where they slumbers back in the dark chamber of our mind. We consecrate time to conceal our own imperfection, our hurts, our flaws, sometimes even ourselves... And we walk confidently, with a conviction that these scars are gone, with a conviction that even if it still murmurs at the hour of our sleep, even if it stings occasionally, they are invisible. But they are not, and for a reason.
We fear... We fear we sucked up all God's mercies, and received all His miracles and healing. We fear that if we let show, if we let it be, it will disgust others.
We fear judgement and more ironically we fear His judgement. We are afraid to look like a failure or worse, to be one! And when someone or something sees and discovers us beyond our make-up, beyond our fancy clothing we tremble. And when we are naked before God at these dark hours of the night, we shake... How is it possible... Impossible... In the glorification of the all-mighty-Me, we attribute to self all the achievements of our live, we worship our goals, we daydream our plans one more time, we crown our intelligence... And when we face this piercing eye that saw beyond all these the true us, we shrink and sink... But funny enough, we rise up again rapidly, not to see the truth but to proceed, yet another time, to paint our wounds again and to wear a new mask, to rise up again to a reality, if it deserves to be called that way, where we are in control.
But today there is a call, there is is really this choice, there is a Christ, standing before our eyes, on the edge of our souls, calling us to give him our brush, to shake that fear and return to Him. To get naked, bare, vulnerable... and He whispers, "You have seen nothing my friend and tasted only the appetizers of my table"... "Do you believe I grow tired? Do you believe I grow blind? Do you think I ever forget my own? Was it not me who called all the weary to give me their burden? Was it not me that took your pain once and twice and trice? Was it not me who washed you clean? Was it not me who took up your sins in my body to that shameful cross? Am I not able to carry a scar, a weakness, a deep pain a million time again? I have seen it bleeding and healed it to seal but I can still see its mark and I want it upon my very own heart!, I want it mine and I want you free." And this whisper changes to a firmness one cannot ignore... 
"I AM, I am the lamb who was slain, I am the Saviour of the World. I am the truth way and life... And I implore you, If you believe my words and hold on to my promises, to dare once again uncover yourself before my throne, the throne of my Grace!"​
Our choice then is what will make all the difference! Because that God who spoke is waiting for our "here I am, I let you in, once again" 
And if that scar remains, it lost its power and is only there to remind us of the greatness of the Most Humble Lord- Where, O death, is thy sting? where, O death, thy victory?!

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Of Loosing Books and other Surpassing Gains!

"Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.”
Luke 6:38

It is with deep regret and profound sadness that I inform you of my loss of 

A Tale of Two Cities
My Antonia
The little Flowers of Saint Francis

But they will live forever in  my heart!

 I have let other people borrow them with the vow that they will return them when they are done- either they are not done reading them or they have broken their vows and I choose to believe the first option! I would have asked them, of course but obviously I have no clue who they were- blame the memory or the weather that day! 

It is with deep joy and profound grateful that I inform you of my gain of 

I could not possibly write all what  the Lord bestows on his beloved.

But let  pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people.

Let me recount all his benefits to me with David, and proclaim his glories with Elijah
Let me tell of his mercies with Mary Magdalene and shout his salvation with Paul
Let me declare his power with Moses and announce his wonderful deeds with Gabriel
Let me sing his praises with Mary 
Let me live and die for Him. 
Let me pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people.

For He has been good to me.

My heart leaps up when I behold (sorry Willie, not a rainbow in the sky), how for every loss of a precious book I have gain a wonderful friendship. 
My heart leaps up when I behold (sorry Willie, not a rainbow in the sky), how for every tear I shed I have been surprised with a million deeper joy. 

Let me  pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people.

Thursday, March 30, 2017

A Late Bloomer

I have discovered that there are seasons for everything in life- O the revelation! 
Qoheleth discovered this some five thousands something years ago! 

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven!
Ecclesiastes 3:1

But to each their time and season- ya know! 

I think this is my first video here! I really love when artist give a little introduction to their song!
♥ This is a song my aunt used to play for us over and over again when we were younger ♥

It is the wonderful time of the year, again, between March and May where everything is in glorious bloom and sweet smell!
The time for swing and swinging ♪♫♪
It is the time when bulb flowers we plant in January to open up. This year it was the honour was for Hyacinths in my tiny little city garden!

I have been waiting for what I will learn from them this year- for without fault, every year I have been learning something from this simple planting habit! Life is pretty generous when we live it to the fullest! It is true that He came to give us the fullness of life!
A very generous friend of mine helped me this year in choosing the right architectural shape we want these hyacinths to grow! We were almost perfect, except that we left one bulb aside!
I thought we will plant it in a small pot and then she will take it when it opens up! To our infinite sadness it did not grow properly! For a whole month I saw her die slowly while the other were in wonderful health, growing and becoming so pretty! My heart ached for her so I decided to do a little transfer and put it in the ground near a bigger Gardenia plant! It seemed to like it but it still did not really grow, but at least it stopped becoming brown!
Last Saturday, I was praying in the morning and I suddenly remembered her- I prayed for her and after prayer I went to check on it! And lo and behold! It stated to do little small pink flowers! I was overjoyed!
This event could not get out of my head and a few little thoughts kept coming to my mind:
We are not trees and if our soil is infested- move under the shadow of His wings! He will stop the death of our souls, will take away what browns our days! Will renew our strength!
If we think our lives are slow and idle- they are not! We press on toward the goal every day to reach our heavenly destination!
That there is always hope- everything is beautiful in its time! Now when they all died, this little left behind one is a true gift!
Comparison is the thief of joy indeed! I was so sad for this little bulb only because I saw the other ones opening so marvelously filling the air with their scents! 
No one is left behind- no matter how many times we think God might have forgotten us- He did not and will not! 

Ad Summum! I really wanted to end with a poem today and I thought this one was truly fitting and beautiful!

Holy Sonnet X

By John Donne

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so,
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and souls deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better than thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Paper Punchers

Summer, O sweet summer! A shower of blessing and goodness fell upon me because of you ! You were full with beautiful weddings of beautiful wonderful people! All of them so very simple, so very convivial, so very peaceful, so very full of joys, full of grace!

Before one wedding in particular, I was thinking of how my marriage will have- must have- confetti!! And for some reason I was convicted in my heart to make a proposal- not the kind of "down on one knee" ones- but with the conviction to offer my brilliant idea "for my own wedding" to this absolutely amazing wife-to-be (wife now!! woohoo!). So I let her know a month ahead that I will be punching heart and flower shaped confetti out of nicely coloured papers and throw them at her entrance- or exit, or whenever- it's always a good time for confetti!. She accepted so very gladly and I started! Punching and punching and punching and emptying then punching again and so on! Finally I filled a huge garbage bag of these and I was so proud of myself! You know, I hope, that when the word proud comes there is always a fall after it! And it was a hard one! One of our bosses at the office decided to do a massive clean-up of the centre and rented a minivan to transport all useless stuff that has been laying around here and there! Including my precious punched craft paper! The Friday just before the wedding! I was utterly crushed! But as after all falls, I hope we raise, an sweet lady offered her help and bought fresh beautiful flower petals and decorated cones to hold them and saved the day! The bride was conffettied! I was glad!

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid.”
― C.S. LewisA Grief Observed

Since then, this lovely set of paper punchers has been sitting on my desk begging for my attention! I thought many times to take it back home but there was something always keeping me from doing it- my forgetfulness is to blame a wee bit too!

I was contemplating this box the other day when all of a sudden it spoke its purpose.
I was thinking, looking at this box, about how amazing love is, how powerful it is an how it can pierce our hearts! I have been pondering this because I have been getting to know r a couple of wonderful beings that my heart took is so fondly! The love I have for them seems to hurt a bit! Lewis spoke about grief feeling like fear, I think love feels a lot like pain when it comes to the depth of the heart and the feeling! This is when paper punchers explained everything! I thought that each person is like a sweet lovely paper puncher with a particular beautiful shape and if we take them in our hearts they will punch it and make this beautiful shape in our hearts that hurts a bit but then becomes an art work! 
I am a very lucky human being! Many have punched my heart and left their amazing shapes in me- some went, some will go- though I wish it not- but all have marked me eternally! I pray I will never be afraid to let anyone in and keep getting punched to have this wonderful masterpiece heart at the end!