Uncomplicated…

Looks were exchanged between the elders on the stage and the worship team just to the side of the stage. They stopped practicing. As the duo singing the song for the bridal procession got themselves into place and started the music, everybody else in the hall straightened up. The atmosphere was a mix of anticipation, excitement and happiness. The bride and the groom were about to enter. The youngest in the audience for this occasion, who were four and five years old, were strictly advised to attach themselves to their seats atleast for the first ten minutes. And so, after the cameraman, the groom entered with his parents followed by the bride. Just as they reached midway, this four year old cherub, who was also the groom’s niece, got up from her seat, and made a dash for her grandfather, calling out loudly, ‘appacha’ (a term for grandad in malayalam). She didn’t stop with that. She did a small twirl, clapped her hands together at the sheer joy of just seeing him and went and squeezed his hands and hugged his knees. She kept smiling at him till his creased brows and worried looking face gave way to a huge beaming smile that reflected hers and exuded a warmth that was palpable to anyone who observed. And before her parents could reach for her she walked back to her seat, looking extremely satisfied at what she’d just done, totally unaware about the fact that this was all recorded on camera, or that she’d just made her mark on an otherwise solemn occasion.

I watched her face as she walked back to the seat next to mine, and smiled. She’d just celebrated a person she loves a lot, she’d expressed that and she was super delighted at it. It made a lot of sense to her to express what she felt for him, and that was that. She shifted her attention to the next thing. No biggie. It was that simple.
…for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these..‘ (Matthew 19:14)

Those words kept coming back to me again and again that morning.

As a paediatrician, an aunt and a sunday school teacher, I’ve had the honour and privilege of spending a lot of time around these little beings, day in and day out. Whether they’re sick, or they’re full of questions or they just want to have fun, they never fail to teach me something new everyday. If you’ve looked into the eyes of a child, you would know that there’s an unbeatable zest for life and love you see in them. Something that makes you yearn for your childhood days all over again. There’s something about the simplicity in their love for you and the trust they place in you, the joyful spirit that they have, that humbles you. That makes you want to understand why Jesus stressed on the importance of becoming like a child to experience the fullness of the joy we have in Him.

When a child starts to draw, one of the first things he/she draws is a house and stick figures of all the family members holding hands. And then when he/she can spell, they write down their names and the names of the ones closest to them. And then they show it to every person they come across. Sounds familiar? They simply can’t get enough of celebrating the love around them.

As the years pass by and we grow older, somehow the simplicity disappears. We just can’t trust God like that anymore. We somehow find it difficult to love Him fully. And gradually we discover we somehow aren’t that joyful anymore, and that translates into the relationships we have around us. We’re yet to discover at what stage of development does one learn to complicate things. When do we start thinking, “What will other people think?” as opposed to ” What does the One who created me, want of me?” How does that question become an essential part of our existence? Why do we stop celebrating God’s love for us by becoming so focussed on the doing than the being?

I’ve been wrestling with these questions myself. And as I placed these questions and doubts and struggles before my Maker, this is what I was moved to pray- “Oh to have the heart of a child before the Lord! To trust Him fully, to love Him more and more with that kind of simplicity, to celebrate Him regardless of what ‘others might think’, to declare His goodness out loud no matter what the situation looks like and to overflow with that zeal for life and love because I know I’m held in the everlasting arms.”

May this be your prayer too, dear reader, as you navigate your days ahead- to hear Him, to walk with Him, to unabashedly love Him, and to experience His constant presence- to be like a child before Him- uncomplicated. Then our eyes would be opened to see the million little miracles unfolding around us daily- in all its brilliant colours.

And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 18:3)

The other side…

The pandemic rages on, coming and going in waves…nobody knows for how long or how many more waves we’re yet to see. When you say COVID 19 , among the many things that became a new normal, the prominent image that comes to mind is someone in a PPE suit- goggles and hood and plastic overalls and a tight fitting mask. The people on the frontlines.

“Doctor, I cannot express my gratitude for the risk you guys take on a daily basis to watch out for people like us,” my last patient for the day was saying. I was that someone in the PPE suit, and amidst the sweat and the poor visibility and the suffocation, all I could think of was finishing as fast as possible so I could get out of there and breathe in some fresh air. But Gopi wanted to talk. So I stood for a couple more minutes. He was still having fever, but the one thing that caught my attention was the fear in his eyes. He continued for some more time about his family and how people with the virus were being neglected elsewhere and how he was grateful he got a bed with us so he knew he would be looked after in a time like this. I gave him a half hearted smile which definitely didn’t reach him through all that I had put on, asked him to not worry, and came off trying to shake off that look of fear from his eyes and wondering how long it would be before I was in his place.

Needless to say it wasn’t very long before I did end up on the other side. This was another moment where one is reminded again that disease and death are no respecters of persons. As the next couple of weeks passed in quarantine- juggling between managing symptoms and worried family members, I was reminded again and again of the look on Gopi’s face- the fear. His fears were also mine- how far would this virus display its prowess in my body? Would I recover completely? How much longer would these symptoms last? Would it worsen?

‘Everybody just dies’, my sister was saying after a week of COVID ICU duties. There was nothing one could say to cheer her up.

And with news of new variants and newer complications of the disease coming up, what can one hope for? Where do you go with all these fears?

What could one offer to that patient wondering whether he’ll make it through to the other side of this, or to the tired medico who’s been watching helplessly as patients succumb to this disease? What holds you up when you’ve fallen ill while taking care of others and you’re wondering whether it was all worth it?

Hope.

That’s what we are all longing for this season. And there’s only one place I know of that I can point you to today- Jesus Christ. He knows. He sees. And He’s got this. Even when we do not understand it.

Being on the other side of the PPE suit has been an interesting and learning experience. The one thing I know for a fact is that no amount of reading or knowledge helped with the questions and anxieties, but there was an undeniable peace when I surrendered and chose to fall back on the Living Hope and move on in faith.

Amidst all the uncertainties we face today, can we place our hope in this God who is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End?

Hallelujah, praise the one who set me free
Hallelujah, death has lost its grip on me
You have broken every chain
There’s salvation in your name
Jesus Christ, my living hope
(Living Hope, Phil Wickham)

Thus by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be strongly encouraged. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure… (Hebrews 6:18,19a)

Gooder!

Organic Malgova mangoes.

They’re tricky. Can’t really say when they’ll ripen because nothing much changes in their appearance on the outside. They’re just the same strong green. Unless you touch/ smell them one fine morning and then suddenly realize it’s time.
And then after all the waiting, you cut one. Then there’s that huge seed.

Ever wondered why the mango has to have such a big seed, almost as big as itself? I mean you look at a nice big mango, and imagine a lot of mango pulp only to find that half the space was filled with the seed! Or better still, why can’t pomegranates be seedless? Why do pineapples have such an impossible covering?

It’s funny how sometimes the best of things aren’t always really easy. They’re really good. But there’s also the seed you gotta be mindful of. Some big, some small and annoying.

Waiting for breakthroughs in life- whether it’s a job or a marriage or a child or any door to open up is sometimes like waiting on Malgova mangoes to ripen. ( I won’t blame you for already judging me for that comparison)
You wait, hope and pray. And then one day suddenly things come around. There’s that phone call or that person or that opportunity.
But most times the breakthroughs aren’t all rosy and easy. There’s almost always that big seed. It doesn’t really come in the package you’d expected it to. Yes you got the job, but you had to start over in a new place, or you married the person you’d waited for but it was right in the middle of the pandemic with all the restrictions thereof , you were planning on wearing that beautiful satin dress to your best friend’s wedding that you both had dreamt of for so long, instead you find yourself on ICU duty in a PPE suit while she says her vows some place else, you thought you’d be done with exams and there’d be clarity on what next by now, but now you’ve got more time to prepare but no definite timeline to plan on, you have the holidays, but nowhere to go to ‘cos of the lockdown, you’re finally carrying your precious child in your womb but you’re bogged down with work and can’t take all the rest you need, you got into the course you’d always dreamt of, only to wonder if you’ll ever measure up…. so on.

When the blessing comes with the seed.
When you’re extremely grateful and thankful but there are adjustments to be made, expectations to reset and plans to be remade.

Manna- the food the Israelites were praying for didn’t really come in the manner they imagined. They could only ask , ‘What is this?’ But it was better for them than they’d really hoped for.

“Oh this is gooder!!’ Four year old J was exclaiming the other day. Quick to correct him, I said “No, the progression is good, better, best.” And he goes, “Yes! And then gooder!” Like it was so obvious. You can never win an argument with a 4 year old and hence I carried that word back with me. Figured the world needs a word beyond ‘best’. So..

The last couple of months have been a time of standing back and watching God work out His ways of being ‘gooder’ to me. Better than the best I’d imagined for myself. There’s the seed though. It didn’t come easy and it isn’t gonna be easy.
But seeds contain the potential to bring forth new life. They challenge us. They enable us to enjoy the goodness of the fruit. And grow. They nourish and hold it together.

As I pen this down, I can testify to the fact that He’s been teaching me to enjoy His providence while I work around the seed. And then sow that seed to bring forth new fruit and keep the cycle of life moving, using the times and experiences I’ve gone through to declare the goodness of the Lord to you.

Answered prayers. Unexpected packaging. A whole new view. But definitely ‘gooder’.

Have you been in a ‘manna’ situation lately? Pandemic and all?

Know that the Lord your God, your Maker, is good. His ways….gooder.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28, emphasis added)

I love You, Lord
For Your mercy never fails me
All my days, I’ve been held in Your hands
From the moment that I wake up
Until I lay my head
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God

(Bethel music, Jenn Johnson)

Let Him..

“Fling wide the gates..” She pushed those words to the back of her mind.” Open the ancient doors,…” Nooo, she didn’t want to hear them, “….and let the king of Glory in.” Ahhh. The soft still voice was persistent.

It had been a couple of frustrating days. She was beyond irritated and angry. Her arched eyebrows and furrowed forehead as the hot summer sun beat down on her head would have made anyone hesitate to even ask her what was wrong. A soaked mask and the added irritation thereof. And then there were the tears she was fighting back- tears of frustration, lost battles, and the desire to emerge like the Hulk from her normal work clothes and just stomp over the world. Passionately angry. Because she had passionately loved. And passionately trusted and hoped.

And in all that mess, another passionate voice was calling out from deep within. Pastor had said that verse a number of times in church last Sunday, it was etched somewhere deep within her tired grey cells. “Let me in” the Father was saying. “Fling open your gates” She didn’t want to. She wanted to close herself up in her room and weep for sometime. Cry out the frustration, and spend some time wondering why she still did what she did. Didn’t want to let anybody in for that moment. Wanted to dwell in the darkness as the waves came crashing in.

After yanking the lock of her house open and banging her door shut, she finally gave in, letting Him in on the disappointment and the distress and the helplessness. And as she slept off on her knees from the heat and the exhaustion, the sound of singing filled her heart. The old hostel room. Her senior strumming this chorus on her guitar, ” Can you hear the sound of heaven, like the sound of many waters? Its the sound of worship coming from the throne of God…” As those notes played out, a loud thunderstorm woke her up. She ran up to the terrace and stood right there as the heavy raindrops washed over her. A calm descended and the din of the day died down, she let that river of living water flow right from the throne of God into her heart… some days don’t make sense, they hurt more than others, some battles are harder, some leave scars- but as long as her eyes were on her Maker, it was all worth the pain. She’d rather live out her life passionately being what God had called her to be than live from paycheck to paycheck- loving, laughing, crying, singing,sometimes winning, sometimes losing….living.

Tired, sojourner? The sun might beat down quite furiously, but it always rains . Look around. You’ll hear Him in the trees and the bushes and the birds and the plains and the valleys. Just throw open your gates, and let the King of Glory in. Let Him wash over you. Let Him remind you why you do what you do. Let Him take that burden. Let Him….Let Him…and then go live! In every sense of that word. Look up. It might hurt, but He is enough. More than enough.

Fling wide the gates,
open the ancient doors,
and the great king will come in.
Who is this great king?
He is the Lord, strong and mighty,
the Lord, victorious in battle. (psalm 24)

Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Shine…

Ever noticed that most hospitals have a chapel within the building or somewhere in close proximity? Or even a prayer room? They’re small, simple yet beautiful.

As a freshly admitted medical student, I used to think about our hospital chapel as such an oddity – a place meant for worship and prayer built smack in the middle of a noisy hospital corridor cluttered with the sounds of trolleys rushed to and fro, people asking for directions, doctors screaming out orders over the din to each other and so on. Weird! I’ve thought. Who would even notice this place in the midst of this craziness? And besides, who would have the time to come in here anyways?

A few weeks into my training I decided to enter the chapel one day. There was a sudden change of atmosphere from the noisy buzz outside to a calm that gripped my soul. As my eyes adjusted to the lighting within, I saw two hands lifted up just in front of the altar. An elderly woman wailing out loud on her knees. She wasn’t saying too many words but her desperation was palpable. As I sat and watched her for sometime, I started understanding the strategic positioning of this space.

Many years and different hospitals later, I’ve developed a sense of reverence for these places. They are places of solace. Of light. Of hope. Desperate pleas. Honest prayers. Unhindered praises. Freely flowing tears. Unmasked selves. These are some of the emotions that mark these chapels.

People seeking refuge from the only One who can offer one. Where scientific explanations end and miracles begin. Where the search for a highly experienced super specialist ends with the acknowledgement and the desire for a touch from the Creator of the Universe. The Healer. Where there is no pretence.

Broken souls. Melted candlewax. Raw emotions. And just outside, a world that keeps moving.

Whoever thought of the concept of a place of worship smack in the middle of a crazy hospital environment couldn’t have been more genius. Beyond every level of expertise the world of modern medicine can offer, every man’s ultimate need is the need of a Saviour. In need of things only He can give. And that begins with the breaking down of walls we’ve built around our hearts , with taking off the masks we wear (No, not the triple layer/N95 ones). Right in the centre of our workplaces and our maddening lives.

He was a special child. Mentally challenged they say. Exceptionally intelligent I think. He’d seen me before and recognised me from a distance when his mom came to me to get his regular medicines. He kept nudging her to tell me to remove my mask so he would know for sure. I removed my mask for a few seconds for him. I did not expect the reaction I got from this 14 year old boy with developmental issues. A sudden throaty laughter- one of sheer joy, and a high spirited small jump. He was right about me! He came over and gave me a sideways awkward hug in a way he knew how. And then held his mom’s hand and walked away smiling through his teeth. That’s all it took to make his day. Me removing my mask for him. Covid-19 protocols had to go for a lunch break!

“It’s like we came to the chapel. He feels seen,” his mom called out as they walked off.

Hospital chapels, OPD waiting areas, ICU counselling rooms, operation theatres- are some places where all disguises come off. And they remind us of a greater need.

In a world that teaches us to pretend and live up to the expectations that nobody knows who laid out, there is also an aching people. Aching for grace, mercy and love. Aching for the love of Jesus yet not knowing where to find it.

A touch. A hug. A kind word. A nudge on the shoulder. A word of encouragement. A small note of appreciation.

A conversation with no pretence. A space where they don’t have to keep up appearances. Haven’t you longed for some authenticity like that?

This is what the Lord has been challenging me to be over the past couple of weeks and a thought I’m putting out there for you to ponder on.

Oh Child of God, you who have tasted and known of the goodness of this amazing God, what can you do today to reach out to an aching society? To be that space of no pretence to somebody who needs to be seen or heard? To be that conduit that guides them to the Saviour. To be the salt. To be the light. To shine. Beginning from right where you are. Right now.

In need of Grace, In need of love
In need of mercy raining down from higher above
In need of strength, in need of peace
In need of things than only you can give to me

In need of Christ, the perfect Lamb
My refuge strong, the great I am
This is my song, my humble plea
I am your child, I am in need
(Ross King)

“In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” ( Matthew 5:16)

Yellow…

On the drive between Palani and Oddanchatram, two small towns in southwest Tamil Nadu, there’s a particular wonder to behold in a particular season. Vast fields bathed in yellow. Yellow- the unapologetic bright kind. Oh yes, the colour yellow is associated with Palani a lot, especially ‘cos of the robes the pilgrims to the Palani temple wear and walk the roads on. But no, that’s not what I’m talking about.

It was Monday morning, and I was on the way back from an eventful weekend at home back to the place where I live and work. The driver anna was being his usual chatty self, filling me in on the local political scenes and all that was happening in and around his village and I kept him engaged with an occasional comment here and there and mostly with the vigorous nod that most South Indians have mastered over time. The kind that almost compromises the stability of the atlanto-occipital joint. We kept at it, me encouraging him to go on, while my mind kept busy, pondering over the demands of changing seasons in life. Noise on the inside and noise on the outside.

“Madam look!” He suddenly said, pointing to the sides. And there they were. Golden yellow fields. On both sides of the road. The sun shining on them enhancing their colour. Vast fields of sunflowers. Big ones. We stopped for a couple of minutes to just take in that beauty. As we gazed at those fields for a bit, the driver anna’s friendly voice faded into the background and the noises inside of me died down. There was a peculiar thing though. I was looking at the sunflowers. But the flowerheads were all turned in the opposite direction. Each one of those hundreds of flowers were faced in the same direction, their stalks straight, their heads held high- the direction the sun was shining on them. There was not a single flower that turned the other way round and not one of them drooping down. Not one flower turned the way the people who stopped to admire them were looking at. They just had one focus. And that was the source of their beauty, their nourishment and all that they were about. Named appropriately- Sun-flowers.

“Madam, polaama?” (shall we go?), the driver’s voice interrupted that moment with an urgency. As we resumed our journey forward, there was a strange peace inside of me. I was being reminded with as much clarity as possible- ‘ Why’re you looking around? Look to the Son (Jesus).’

That’s been the image in my head since. That sea of yellow.

No matter what everyone else has to say, or how much you’ve left to do or how impossible you think things look, will you look to the Son- the Author and Perfecter of your faith? Your Rock, your sure foundation.

Can we do that in our day to day lives, casting but a glance at what is around us, fixing our gaze though on Jesus? Unashamed, heads held high, undisturbed in our devotion to Him?

And when we do that, what others will notice about us is the light that falls on us- the glory of the Almighty God dwelling in us, His love brimming out from us. The colour of His love- that’s our ‘yellow’. Whatever season of life we’re in.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.
(Helen Lemmel)

and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith…“( Hebrews 12:1, 2a)

The Freefall

I like structure. I’m the kind of person who would ideally like to be well informed before I take a decision, or well briefed/read before I approach a problem. I’m pretty sure most of us out there would identify with that. I mean who wouldn’t like a blueprint of what lies ahead right? Like a map, with directions and best of all, a safe path to follow.

As doctors, we are trained that way. We get the information we want from our overworked juniors or whoever is on the floor that day before we have even seen a particular patient. We like being informed, we like knowing the percentages, the best treatment options,the prognosis. We like having an approach. Nothing wrong with that. But as doctors, one would also realise that on the flip side, sometimes nothing goes according to plan. Ask a medical friend, and he/ she would testify to the number of times they have seen patients defy percentages, textbook descriptions or grave outcomes.

Somehow that’s the way with life in general. Despite our greatest efforts to be as prepped as possible, most times, life does take us by surprise.

I was sitting in the OPD the other day, wheeling under the happenings over the past couple of weeks, thinking and overthinking and then overthinking what I’d already overthought. I called in the next patient, and as they settled down, this six month old chubby fellow kept edging out of his mommy’s lap towards me. He kept reaching out and looking into my eyes till I finally took him onto mine. The next thing he did was what I hadn’t seen coming. He turned around, tried standing up and gave me a wobbly warm hug. And then just stayed there. Hanging onto my neck. I don’t know how to describe in words what I really felt at that moment. The warmth of that gesture translated into a certain kind of warmth deep in my soul. Ever thought of what it would feel like if you were in an elevator and suddenly it’s chain got cut? ( Now I know it’s not what normal people think about. Excuse me.) You become weightless. ‘Cos the elevator and you inside would be at the mercy of gravity.

That’s something like what I felt then. The anxious thoughts that were rolling around in my mind suddenly disappeared. And all I could think of was – Freely falling. Yes, I’d been following him up since he took his first breath till now; but that doesn’t give a baby any reason to remember the doc who resuscitated him at birth. He decided to give me some love that day, and he jolly well did!

As his mother and him walked away, God was speaking to my heart. Can you rest in my embrace like that child? Without fear. Casting away anxiety. Trusting. Freely falling.

Oh I was struggling. I needed more information, I needed a better picture, I needed more clarity, I needed a roadmap, I needed……. In all that noise in my head, a more firm still Voice was telling me, ” All you need is to let go. Underneath are the everlasting arms.”

‘The eternal God is your dwelling place,
and underneath are the everlasting arms.’ ( Deuteronomy 33:27)

Dear friend, been in that place? Of strife? Of crippling anxiety? Of restlessness?

Sometimes we don’t have all the answers, most times we do not have as much information as we’d like to have, many times the picture we paint in our heads doesn’t match the one we actually see, and almost always, we can never be prepared enough for the days ahead. But you and I can do this one thing- trust in the God who holds the universe. In the One whose arms are holding you. You can let go.

Because He’s got this. You don’t need to know everything.

Remember the psalmist said, Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path (Ps 119:105)? He never mentioned ‘ a floodlight on all my days ahead’. No. We’re called to fall- fall back on Him.

Take it from this control freak, whom God has mercifully kept from being able to control anything significant in her life. The greatest blessings are the ones I’ve received with open trusting hands, unexpected, with faith the size of a mustard seed.

That’s what I’ve been asking for the grace to do these past few weeks. To be able to hang on to Him like that baby was hanging on to me. To free-fall.

Moving on into another year, let go. Freely fall back on Him.

“And the arms that hold the universe
Are holding you tonight
You can rest inside
It’s gonna be alright

And the voice that calmed the raging sea
Is calling you His child
So be still and know He’s in control
He will never let you go”
(Hope rising, Fee)

Esperanza!

Weariness.
That’s what I saw in the eyes of that grandmother who’s been coming for steroids month after month with her little grandson with Nephrotic syndrome, whom his parents had forsaken, in the tears of the mom who brought her son with chronic kidney disease once in 2 days for dialysis simply so he’d be alive, in the face of the father who brought his daughter with Beta Thalassemia every 21 days for her next blood transfusion- there are many more- all of them with the same question- When will this be over? Or will it ever? And their eyes searched my face… for hope, atleast an inkling.

Funny thing is, I was asked the same question three times over the past one week that I’d been asking myself already- Is there hope? Is there an answer?

As I sat back against the terrace wall and closed my eyes, my thoughts drifted to that one blank page somewhere a little more than halfway through my Bible- the one that separates the Old Testament from the New Testament. That page was symbolic of 400 years of waiting- when so much of recklessness and oppression prevailed, and there was no prophet, no leader, no dreams or visions, no voice from God. A loud silence. Deafening in fact. A prolonged wait for a Saviour. Nobody knew when or how. They were a tired people. Weary.
Sounded like my life, I thought.
And when you turn that page over and as the gospel of Mathew unfolds, you hear a cry, a newborn baby’s shriek, breaking that silence. The wait for a Saviour had come to an end. He had come! And how!

My mind’s been blown away again and again as I read and reread the account of the birth of Jesus as given in the gospels. A young woman, a bewildered carpenter, shame, confusion, a census at an inconvenient time, rejection, a manger of absolutely no significance, a helpless baby- these were some of the circumstances that God chose to display His glory through. They were weary, Oh yes. Tired of what people were talking about them back home, tired of being misunderstood again and again, exhausted from a journey on a donkey’s back and about as comfortable as anyone could get in a stable surrounded by animals- and yet the baby’s cry brought hope- He had come to deliver us from eternal damnation.

You know, that’s the story of Christmas, that’s why the bells and the carols and the candles and all that jazz- it’s not about the big man in a red suit riding reindeer, it’s about a God who became man to save our souls. A God who came to give us that hope- the hope of eternity.
This story is the beginning of all other stories- a story where in the midst of weariness, pain, anxiety, disappointment, unanswered prayers and uncertainty- hope shone through.

Dear friend, I do not know what your Christmas might look like this year, whether there’s a family you’ll be going to or you’ll be in the ward, like me, on duty, whether you’re in a place of weariness and you’re close to giving up on God or you’re filled with thanksgiving, whether you’re drowning in your doubts and uncertainty or you’re hanging on for dear life, whether you’re prepping for an upcoming wedding or you’re wondering when you’ll ever find the one for you or whether you’re wondering like the parents of those children I mentioned earlier, “when will the suffering end?”.

Interruptions, inconveniences, unanswered prayers , doors that refuse to open- whatever this year has handed out to you, may I remind you as I was reminded that God chose to break nearly 400 years of silence with a tiny baby’s cry from a manger in Bethlehem. His magnificence shone through the darkest of times, through the most obscure circumstances, through two very normal people who were going about their usual lives that were suddenly interrupted with a lot of inconvenience.

What child is this
Who lay to rest
On Mary’s lap is sleeping
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping

This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The Babe, the Son of Mary

So bring him incense, gold and myrrh
Come peasant king to own him
The King of Kings salvation brings
Let loving hearts enthrone him
(What child is this, William c Dix)

There is hope. As the houses light up and songs are sung and gifts are exchanged, let’s remember- there is hope. Esperanza. Jesus is the hope.

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.” (Micah 5:2)

A Blessing…

He was a big man. Literally. With an ailing three month old baby girl. It was a difficult 2 weeks. While his baby progressed from one complication to the next due the nature of her disease, he ran- ran for blood products, to arrange money as the medicines got costlier and more sophisticated procedures were done, ran to provide for his four year old son back home- and then ran back to be by the bedside of his infant. As her treating doctors we left no stone unturned to try salvage this precious little life. I for one never saw this man so much as sitting in one place for more than 5 minutes. At the end of a week and a half, when all of us knew without many words being said that this child didn’t have much time left. He still looked hopeful. Another 24 hours later, when I gently suggested he be prepared for the worst, he sat down in the hospital corridor and wept out of his wife’s sight- huge giant sobs. I stood there. Just to share that moment with him. There wasn’t anything left to say.

When the day arrived for him to take the lifeless body of his precious daughter home, I saw not a defeated man, but a man who rose up to hold the rest of his family together- he paid for the entire hospital expenses, completed all formalities, headed all the arrangements to be made with a stoic boldness I wish I had. Just before he left, he did one more thing. He walked over to me , held my hand and thanked me through tear filled eyes and asked me to convey his gratefulness to every doctor on our team. Not just that- He uttered a blessing over me before he got into the driver’s seat to drive his family home. A blessing! Yeah! (If I were him, let’s just say it wouldn’t be such a graceful scene!)

I stood there in that same hospital corridor where I’m sure his tears hadn’t yet dried up, not knowing what to think or make of it. This big man had just lost his daughter to a terrible disease, something that he would have never imagined 2 weeks ago, he was exhausted and drained- of everything, but he didn’t forget to stop and say a blessing over me. Despite… Inspite of…

Oh friend! When was the last time you stretched your hand out towards someone else and prayed a blessing over them despite how you felt about your life at that moment? (I’m not talking about how we say ‘Bless you!’ when someone sneezes at the dinner table.) I’m asking about the #real#deep from the heart despite all the hurt# blessing- when was the last time you were prompted to do that?

With a very difficult year coming to a close, if there was ever a time to celebrate the birth of a Saviour, it definitely is now. To be reminded that ,” For God so loved the world that he GAVE his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”( John 3:16)

Yahweh- the Almighty God- He loved so much, He gave. He promises us that His face is always towards us. Always. So as children of this amazing promise, can we- you and me, stretch out our hands today, towards the next person and pray a blessing over them in the name of His precious Son- Jesus Christ?

As I type this down, I pray a blessing over each and every one of you who happens to read this. Despite what my life looks right now. In spite of the billion reasons I could give myself to avoid doing it. Because God loved me so much… He gave. And I pass on that candle to to you.

Receive it with an Amen.

Your turn now. Who do you wanna bless today?

With your words and your actions…

May His presence go before you
And behind you, and beside you
All around you, and within you
He is with you, He is with you
In the morning , in the evening
In your coming, and your going
In your weeping, and rejoicing
He is for you , He is for you
( The Blessing, Cody Carnes/ Kari Jobe)

#theDrawingDisciple

Gracias!!

Come November and, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been feeling a sense of foreboding and dampness in the spirit. Why? One may ask. I don’t know. Maybe its just that another year is drawing to a close and the overthinker in me is pondering over questions like ,” Was this a fruitful year? Have I moved forward in life? Was it really worth one’s existence ?” And so on. As the fervour of the upcoming festivities and holidays kick in slowly and not very subtly, I stand with trepidation at the brink of it, preferring to drown in the sounds of the pouring rain beating against my window, refusing to think about lights or decorations or holiday plans or Christmas barbeques. 2020 being the year that it has been, helps to foster such feelings too. I don’t need to explain that one to you right?

It was one such damp morning when heavy rain and loud thunder, hypothermia (because I’d slept off without a blanket) and a restless mind, woke me up. A cup of coffee later, I settled into a warm corner of the room with some writing material and my Bible, seeking the face of the only One who could calm the storm inside of me. As a billion questions battled for priority in my head, I opened up my diary to start writing out a petition to the Almighty. A well worded one that conveyed my problems and questions to Him in very strong and clear words, with the questions I had listed out in descending order of priority and all my unanswered prayers throughout the year in capital letters and underlined in red- in case He had missed out on or forgotten those.

My pen and heart however, seemed to have a mind of their own. The only words that I finally wrote down on that first line were “Thank you Lord”. I looked at the paper for sometime in disbelief. Absolutely not how I wanted to start out. But my pen seemed to go on. And on and on. At the end of what seemed like a good half an hour, there were two pages, both sides, filled with points of praise and gratitude and tears in my eyes.

Tears of gratitude, of saying ‘Thank you’, ‘Dhanyawad’, ‘Gracias’-for days gone by, for abundant grace and exceeding mercy, for protection, for strength, for love and laughter, for simply and absolutely everything, every single day I could sleep in peace and wake up knowing I’m unconditionally loved and taken care of by Jehovah- the Almighty God, the King above all other kings, my Father and Best Friend.

Needless to say, as my eyes ran over those pages, the only way this created being could respond, was by lifting hands in worship. And as I worshipped, the dampness lifted, a song broke out in my heart and the storms stilled. Forgotten was the petition I’d started off to make in the first place.

What grace! What mercy! What love!

So here’s this note I write to myself today- Dear me, you may still have unanswered questions and undecided days ahead. You will still get hurt in the running, you may still find some days more difficult than others, some circumstances harder than the rest, some mountains taller, some giants stronger. But hey! Will you promise to remember the days you never thought you’d get through and yet you did and you’re here today? Will you promise to remember to give thanks despite….? Worship in spite of….? Praise Him even when….? Will you?

Circle Zion, take her measure,
count her fortress peaks,
Gaze long at her sloping bulwark,
climb her citadel heights—
Then you can tell the next generation
detail by detail the story of God,
Our God forever,
who guides us till the end of time. (Psalm 48:12-14)

Friend, Get up! Take full measure of your life till now. And sing when you see the Glory of God so intimately entwined in every detail of your days.

Shall we lift up this sacrifice of thanksgiving this morning? We can never be thankful enough. That’s one thing we could never overdo!

“He wants to give Himself for us each moment of our lives just as completely as He gave Himself on the cross. We have nothing to give Him; we have only to receive of Him!”
― Merlin R. Carothers, Prison To Praise

Breathe…

I woke up the other morning with a feeling of drowning without air. Like someone was at my throat. Physically. It took me a couple of minutes as I sat up to realize that I needed to get a hold of my inhalers and that I was suffering the consequence of wearing a dusty mask the previous day – an exacerbation of asthma, as my bronchi refused to lighten up. Another couple of minutes and some salbutamol later, I was breathing freely. And Oh! What a relief that was.

Now any of you reading this who’s ever had to get a nebulisation to just help you take the next breath would surely agree with me this that there’s nothing that can compare to that sense of freedom of being able to just inhale and exhale freely again. (Yeah, I see you right there!)


‘Happy hypoxia’ is a term most of us would have heard by now with regard to the COVID19 pandemic. It’s a phase of this illness where you’re unaware of your body’s need for oxygen till you suddenly collapse . And then there’s the scurry of activity- ambulance, hospital, ICU, ventilation, desperately hoping for a good outcome- essentially disaster management in non medical terms.

As I looked around the other day, I saw a community of people who are running low on their sats, but unaware. Happy hypoxics. I looked at the mirror and a happy hypoxic stared right back at me. No,no… I’m not talking about a Covid hotspot. (In case you’d already reached out to my contact ID to find out what place I’m talking about).

I’m talking about the business of busy bodying. Now what I described in the beginning was a physical feeling I felt the other day, but there have been many days before that day where I’ve felt suffocated on the inside. In my mind. After the initial wonder of the lockdown forcing our usual selves to take a break from our regular busy schedules, and explore parts of our lives we never knew existed before, we have ( as human beings over centuries have done) ,adapted to the pandemic- to wearing masks, to learning to be distracted and busy within the confines of the restrictions. Scurrying about. Zooming in. Zooming out. Webinars, Classes. Deadlines. Plans. Worrying. Wondering. A feeling of doing so many things, being in so many places at the same time, yet essentially not really being significant enough .
Have you noticed that when you are working out really hard or even running quite fast, you end up holding your breath till the trainer (if you have one, or simply your brain) calls out – exhale? If you’ve not noticed it before, watch out for that now. You’re so into what you’re doing that your chest feels like it’s going to explode and you just have to breathe out. And then you wonder, ‘Why didn’t I realise that before?’

Sometimes our lives are like that. Most times actually. We scurry, we scramble, we strive, we struggle, we shuttle between things, we get so caught up in our frustrations of how things/ people should have been as opposed to how they have turned out….(You make your own list here.) And our chest is so full. We are so busy doing the good things we forget to seek out the best. We don’t see anything around us, except us and our fragile egos and we gradually run low on life – happily hypoxic, severely myopic.

With having to wear masks day in and day out , I’m sure all of us at a time like this, are more aware of every breath we take than we’ve ever been before. Oxygen is one of the most expensive medicines we offer in a hospital. When our body refuses to cooperate with the natural order (due to disease), we end up having to resort to this costly drug and pay that price to just keep us alive! But imagine the amount of oxygen we breathe in on a daily basis that is unaccounted for! Such is the Creator’ s extravagance towards His creation.
If only we could take it in. Freely.

Friend, is your chest about to explode? Have you been super focused on your miniature world that you’ve forgotten to exhale? Have you been running low on love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self control? Have you missed out on the Voice from the burning Bush because you were rushing to get water to put out the fire? (In your hurry to do good, you missed out on the best.)

Are you in that place? Are you a bomb about to explode? Or a breakdown just waiting to happen? Is it all falling apart?

Your Creator calls out to you today…

Breathe………Just breathe.

Let Jesus in- into those spaces. Into those confusions. Into all that hard work you’re at.Into your strife.

For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light. (Psalm 36:9)

“I’m busy, busy, busy, and it’s no surprise to see
That I only have time for me, me, me
There’s gotta be something more to this crazy life
I’m hanging on tight to another wild day
When it starts to fall apart in my heart I hear you say just
Breathe, just breathe
Come and rest at my feet
And be, just be
Chaos calls but all you really need
Is to take it in, fill your lungs
The peace of God that overcomes
Just breathe
let your weary spirit rest
Lay down what’s good and find what’s best
Just breathe “
(Jonny Diaz, Breathe)

Shall we, you and me, take a moment to revel in the extravagance of His love?

“There is a moment, a cusp, when the sum of gathered experience is worn down by the details of living. We are never so wise as when we live in this moment.”
― Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air

Bonsai

‘Doesn’t this look like something from the Enid Blyton books?’ My brother asked, after sending us this picture. Oh sure it did, only it was a miniature version of it. It was a bonsai tree and he was looking through a nursery when he came upon this sight and was blown away by how expensive it was!!

I looked at that picture for sometime and smiled wryly. My mind recollecting the excitement I had felt as my younger self read those books, how I’d checked on a few big trees outside the school campus later on to see if there was any magic to them. Almost expecting to see some branch leading to a door that opened to fairies or brownies or animals that talked in them! Like the Magic Faraway Tree.

“there was such a lot of whispering that it sounded like a thousand leaves rustling at once!”
― Enid Blyton, The Enchanted Wood


Isn’t there one particular tree all of us remember or have fond memories of? It might be the one in our backyard that’s older than our grandparents or the one huge tree in our school campuses that looked like it knew every dirty secret from yesteryears? One such tree I remember that well is one from our college campus- right next to the mess hall. We called it the ‘mess tree’ ( not very creative, I know, but a landmark nevertheless) . Oh that one tree knew it all! It stood tall like the whole campus was built around it. It has given shade on many a sunny day to those who preferred the outside air to the lecture halls, has attempted to shelter a few strays in heavy rains, has seen friendships strengthen over relentless rants, has been the meeting place for all kinds of meetings, has tolerated overenthusiastic college kids hang decorations on it for every festival all year round, and has been the one thing that really brightened the entire campus when it lit up with on New Year’s Eve with an explosion of lights. It still stands strong to this day and whether we remember our batchmates or not, every student in that campus had and still has a story with the ‘mess tree’. It left a lasting impression.

The bonsai had the shape and the looks, but it could never ever provide the experience of that enchanted tree we read about as children or the ‘mess tree’. Nope- no one could rest in it’s shade, it would not bear fruit, it’s bark would never have anyone carve their names on to it, it would never have any stories to tell. Because, though it looked like a tree, but it had been robbed of it’s very potential to experience the fullness of its existence when science decided to genetically modify it to fit into our comfort zones. That which was supposed to thrive and live in all its glory in some park or in our yard, now sat in our living rooms or terrace gardens- a poor excuse to what it was actually meant to be.

Do we live bonsai-sized lives? That’s been the question on my mind ever since I saw that picture. Teeny-weeny pretty versions of what we were actually made to be, self designed to fit into our comfort zones, while the Creator himself longs for us to live in the freedom that He offers? To thrive and not just survive? Are we afraid- to make commitments, to take stands, to follow the One who has been calling out to us even before we were born, to live to the fullness of our existences?
Pause for a moment. And think about it.

Bonsai is safe. Very comfortable. Pretty. Yet… way too small… To make a difference.

Or will we respond to the Shepherd’s call- committing our lives to Him and thereby stepping out into the glorious freedom He offers- selflessly loving, fully giving and thereby truly thriving and engaging with the world around us. (John 3:16)
I asked myself this today, “Would I be like that tree that stands tall, bearing marks of a race well run, having stories to tell, having been a shade to many, standing strong in the wind and the rain- unapologetic, because I know and I’ve trusted the One who called me?”

But blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD,
whose confidence is in him.
They will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit.” Jeremiah 17:7,8 (NIV)

What about you? Do you want for your life to amount to more than cosy decisions and safe hideouts?

Bonsai lives or not. You get to choose.

Sooper!

“Akka, neenga super !” A smiling starry eyed five year old popped her head back into my OPD cubicle, just to drop in this statement and then danced off into the rest of her life, her shiny black plaits waving around in reckless abandon. It took me a few seconds to realise she was paying me a compliment and then by the time I registered a confused smile through the layers of masks on my face ( these days it doesn’t even feel like a foreign object on the face) , she had already disappeared.

In the place I live, the word ‘super’ is pronounced ‘sooper’. Give them a chance and they’ll even spell it out like that for you. There are certain English words that’ve been localised by the locals here ( yes, a befitting punishment to the ones who introduced the language to us in the first place.) ‘Sooper’ is one such word. It’s a compliment word y’know – more like a word that comes from a full heart. It can mean anything ranging from a delicious meal, a good friend, a nice looking dress, a pretty girl, a fulfilling time, an exciting cricket match or even a brilliant idea. Many meanings, just one word- Sooper. Broad spectrum. No specific grammar rules. No particular contraindication to use it. Can be used freely. For all age groups. Yeah. But a compliment nevertheless and one that is uttered from an overwhelmed heart. There are many other such words that’ve been forcefully converted into the local language, and very seamlessly woven into daily vocabulary, but that’s a discussion for another day.

Anyways, as I wondered as to which of these meanings my little patient was alluding to, there’s no denying the warm fuzzy feeling that settled in on my heart on an otherwise cold and grey afternoon. She had taken that time out of her regular buzz of activity, to just run back in to let me know she appreciated the time we spent together. She didn’t need to. She’d gotten what she had come for. The exhilarating pleasures of childhood were beckoning her from beyond. But she set apart a teeny tiny moment of her universe to gift me a ‘sooper’. She didn’t need to. But maybe I needed it that day. Kindness. And a reminder.

A reminder that my Creator and Father God also looks at me today, right where I am, and sees me not as a frail human being with this innate tendency to fail Him at any given moment, but as a broken vase He took, cleansed, purified and justified – calling me precious, the apple of His eye. Sooper.

So also each one of you reading this today.

This year with all its incessantly flowing unpleasant surprises has neither been easy, nor a pleasurable journey. Fed up? Frustration, anger, irritation, disappointment , resignation, loneliness, exhaustion- are some of the many emotions most of us have been going through. But dear friend, would you look up today, lifting your eyes from the darkness around you to the Father above? And hear His voice in your ear, calling out to you?

“I will give up whole nations to save your life, because you are precious to me and because I love you and give you honor.”                                                                         ( Isaiah 43:4)

When we dwell in that overwhelming awareness and assurance that we are so precious and so loved by such an amazing God, kindness will flow out of us to the people around us. Like that little child, we’d be able to take a tiny moment out of our universe, to maybe tell the next person (Be it your boss or the milkman ), ” Hey you’re appreciated!” The more we open our hearts to His love, the more we would be able to see God’s fingerprints in these dark times.

Put this blog down, and look at the mirror today. And remind yourself what God Almighty thinks about you this very moment:

Days will come when you don’t have the strength
When all you hear is you’re not worth anything
Wondering if you ever could be loved
And if they truly saw your heart, they’d see too much

You’re beautiful
You’re beautiful
You are made for so much more than all of this
You’re beautiful
You’re beautiful
You are treasured, you are sacred
You are His
You’re beautifu
l
( Beautiful, MercyMe)

And when you’ve done that, open your door and tell the first person you meet, ‘You’re beautiful!’ or if you come from where I write this from, ‘Sooper da!’

In His Eyes.

Yes!!!

Pontine Glioma- a diagnosis I had to explain to two different sets of parents over a time span of 24 hours. Not easy… not on the eyes, not on the mind and definitely not on the heart. Two smart, absolutely bright six year olds, with the promise of a whole lifetime ahead of them. A fall while playing. Sudden unexplained weakness of one side of the body. One visit to the OPD and a scan later, that promise of a future suddenly snatched from them without any mercy. A grave diagnosis. Poor prognosis. Tears. Disbelief. Lots of gasps. More tears. “Is there nothing we can do? No where we can take him/her?” The same questions. The same profound helplessness on both sides- the doctor’s and the parents’.

Finally when I did hit my bed at 3 am early morning the next day hoping there would be no more calls from the ward, my thoughts were racing. For all the exhaustion of that day, sleep evaded my eyes. The weight on my heart drove me to my knees. And this time the tears were mine. The mother’s fearful eyes, the father’s brokenness, their testimony of how they conceived after nearly 10 years of infertility and how special this child was, the child’s innocent unaware voice asking me if I wanted to hear him recite his favourite Psalm to me again. I felt so undone. Why these children? Why such terrible suffering? It felt like the carpet you were standing on was suddenly pulled away from under your feet and you had landed face forward on the ground. I didn’t have answers to the questions that were raging in my head and heart. But I knew and still know that God is good. He knows what He’s upto. But in that moment of grief, and multitudes of questions, and exhaustion- the only thing I could do was weep- weep not out of sympathy or pity, but just knowing that I was sharing their burden by pouring out my tears at heaven’s altar in intercession- not just for those two families, but also the ones I knew around me who were suffering- either from loneliness, depression, one physical ailment after another, torment for taking stands for their faith, lack of gratitude after years of work or just the feeling of hopelessness at unanswered prayers and unfulfilled desires.

Bringing them one by one to the Master with nothing but a broken heart for them in the wee hours of the morning, a beautiful revelation dawned on me. I had allowed them to be a part of my life, to have a share of my time, to make me care enough to be broken for them , to keep me awake at night praying for them.

In short, I had let them get to me. I had opened up my heart to love them. So much so that my needs and wants didn’t matter to me as much as theirs did!

These many many people who’ve walked in and out of my life. Some leaving footprints, yet others , scars – a patient, a colleague, a friend or a dear family member- yet they are deeply loved and immensely valued. In those moments my eyes were opened to see what loving a neighbour as myself looked like. If that was what only a minute finite portion of God’s love in me looked like, I can’t help wondering at how passionately, how fiercely, how unconditionally He loves me, and each one of you reading this. Oh how His heart breaks each time for us!

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

I rose up from amidst those tears and prayers for mercy and healing, knowing that I’d given the best I could for those children who were my patients and their families , and to the ones around me whom I knew to be suffering- not my scientific prowess or skills as a paediatrician- I’d made a case for them to the King of kings, the Master of the universe, Jesus Christ, my Lord and Saviour- in love.

People may fail us, institutions may fail us, systems we fought to put in place might be ripped apart right before us, but there’s still scope for love.

So hey, are we capable of living a life of love, rooted in the faith and shielded by the Lord Most High, yet vulnerable? Despite and even if? I say….. Yes!!!

You lead and I will follow
I know you hold tomorrow
Lord, make of me one big yes


Wherever this road takes us
Lord even if it’s just us
I surrender, Lord, it’s yes
.. ”

( Yes, Larry Gatlin, Gaither Vocal Band)

Take a knee….

“I want to be straight with you: there will be no return to the “old normal” for the foreseeable future.” This was part of the opening remarks made by the WHO Director- General a couple of days ago at a press conference.

Well even if he hadn’t said it out that obviously, all of us can testify to the fact that this reality has started to sink in slowly for most of us, right? One of the things that this pandemic has taught us is that there is no shortcut out of this. This has to run it’s course.

Strangely that’s pretty much how life is in general. It has always been “not easy” ( In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m refraining from using the word tough). No shortcuts. Somehow when life confronts us in all its reality and glory, there’s no easy way out. No, I’m not going through a midlife crisis. But yes, I’ve been having to face a lot of difficult realities lately. And there have been not one but a multitude of moments when I have honestly wished things were so much easier, wished there was a shortcut, a less tedious exasperating way about this.

Amongst the mess the world is in right now, there’s a lot of mess within and amongst us as well. They say ( I don’t exactly know who), that post graduation is like a public toilet ( yeah! an Indian one). You must be desperate, to get in, however once you’re in, you can’t wait to be done with it and get out. Well, now explain to the person inside a public toilet that it’s gotten locked from the outside, and the key has been lost! Now that’s more like the exact feeling a couple of my loved ones waiting for the dates for their final postgrad exams to be announced are going through.

Indefinitely postponed. Don’t know when. Cannot say how. No solution in the foreseeable future. Cancelled till further notice.

These are some of the phrases we’ve been hearing over and over again over the past couple of months, with respect to many other things apart from exams as well.

As the day drew to a close yesterday, the culmination of events over the last few weeks finally descended on me like a heavy blanket. Oh and was I overwhelmed! Drowning in all the voices in my head competing for attention, the pain of people around me, the uncertainties in front of me and just generally life’s storms threatening to tear me apart into a million pieces. And I just knew that there was only one posture to be in when all this weight bore down on me- on my knees. There was no where else I wanted to go to at that point even if there was no lockdown.

My heart kept singing this song over and over again as the darkness within me seemed greater than the night closing in on the outside:

Lord, I come, I confess
Bowing here I find my rest
Without You I fall apart
You’re the One that guides my heart
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You. ( Lord I need you, Matt Maher)

So that’s exactly what I did. I took a knee- not in protest or to express my anger as we generally understand that phrase, but in absolute surrender to the King of Kings, the One who holds the seas and has each hair on my head numbered. On bended knees and with lifted hands, amidst free flowing tears, that heaviness lifted, slowly but surely being replaced with a certain peace that I know no words to describe.

Friend, when the waves come crashing in, when the wait is unending, when there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel or the silver lining seems to be missing, when it all comes sweeping over you, when there are no answers but only a lot of questions, here’s the thing – Take a knee. Actually both. Bowing in His presence, you’ll find your rest.

“I’ve told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I’ve conquered the world.” (John 16:33, The Message)

A Lil Loose…

One of my strongest childhood memories is of loud, really loud laughter. My siblings and I grew up with that sound of ringing laughter echoing off the walls of our home- some days we woke up to it, some days we heard it in the middle of our otherwise quiet study time ( interrupted only by the thud of me falling asleep over my books), some days all of us joined in. Appa had and still has this amazing ability to make even the most tight jawed individual burst into splits of laughter- something anyone who has acquainted themselves with him even once would testify to. And it’s always amazed me. Irrespective of the language they spoke or the kind of office they held, they couldn’t resist his smart wit or quick observations, most of the time the object of the joke being himself.

If we were relatively less naughtier during the week, he’d take us for long walks on the weekend on the sandy beaches of the Arabian Sea, in the place we grew up in. And while my younger siblings ran off to play with the waves, he’d hold my hand and give me one of his ‘life lessons’. A distinct memory that has stayed with me over the years is of one day when he’d just cracked up somebody over the phone, and he looked at me after that conversation with a twinkle in his eye saying, “Kunje learn to laugh at yourself every once in a while. The lesser you think about yourself, the more room you’ll have for others.”

Now the paediatrician in me would tell you that the palmar grasp is a reflex that we see in babies as soon as they are born. You might’ve noticed them having a very tight grasp. The moment you stroke the palm, they curl their fist up quite tight. Forgive me for the science class, but an interesting fact we learn is that as they grow, this grasp has to loosen and disappear if they have to learn new skills such as holding an object or reaching out for something. In other words they’ve got to let go if they have to get going!

As the pandemic progresses and lives are being lost at a rate nobody is even sure of, one fact that has struck a chord with me is that there’s only so much we can hold on to tightly. We’ve had to reschedule and replan, we’ve had to wait endlessly, we all have more questions than answers. But what we also have is today- this day that the Lord has made. We don’t know about tomorrow or the next day. What we can do is not take ourselves so seriously that we miss out on what God has planned for us today- the blessing we can be, the impressions we can leave, the prayers we can offer for people around us, the lives we can touch.

I’m often asked, “Do you really need to do all this? Do you even have enough time for yourself? Aren’t you tired?” And as I look to the Lord with these questions, more often than not He reminds me of this lesson I learnt from my dad a long time ago and He points me to the fist of the newborn baby- just to remind me that it’s okay to loosen my tight grasp over my own dreams, desires, and life. In being willing to let go of what I think I deserve and have a right to, I let God into that space, letting Him build the broken pieces into something beautiful. ‘Cos at the end of the day that’s what makes all the difference. The frustrations, anger, bitterness and dissatisfaction will slowly melt away when we slowly turn our gaze from ourselves to the needs of the other.

I stand at the threshold of another decade of my life today, knowing that I can hold on to this life I live a lil loose, ‘cos my Father in heaven has got a tight grip of me.

In other words, being expendable to be expandable for the kingdom of my Saviour.

If there ever were dreams
That were lofty and noble
They were my dreams at the start
And hope for life’s best were the hopes
That I harbor down deep in my heart
But my dreams turned to ashes
And my castles all crumbled, my fortune turned to loss
So I wrapped it all in the rags of life
And laid it at the cross
.

Something beautiful, something good
All my confusion He understood
All I had to offer Him was brokenness and strife
But he made something beautiful of my life

( Something Beautiful,Bill & Gloria Gaither)

Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ.’ ( Philippians 3:8, NKJV)

The Calling

Now that is a forbidden word in my household. The reason being, the last time I said ‘calling’, I was asking permission to leave family, the country I grew up in and asking out of the culture I was raised in, in pursuit of what the Lord was leading me to be. That was unprecedented in my family, unheard of – a young girl, with a promising career and life ahead, traditional family….saying she has a ‘calling’? What was that? Is she delusional? Who’s ‘calling’ her? And how dare she tell us something like that? Where did she get the courage to do that?

As not just eyebrows, but blood pressures also rose, and nostrils flared, I just stood my ground and asked the God who had called me to make the way. The rest of whatever happened is a story in itself. However thenceforth my siblings and I refer to it as the ‘C*******’ word. Evoking that word on a family holiday could cause a variety of emotions to well up, most of them the kind we wouldn’t want to be anywhere close to.

Jokes apart, how many of us have asked at least our own selves that? What am I called to do? What is the purpose of my existence? I’m pretty sure more than half of you reading this would have wondered about this at some point in your life.

I still do. Every single day. Still wonder if I’m on the’ right track’. Or whether there is a thing as one. Even many years after taking such a strong stand in the direction to what I believe God has been calling me to.

Why does it have to be so hard? My head voice was screaming the other day. I was exhausted, tired of being the junior most, the ‘underdog’, tired of people telling me to strive harder to complete my higher studies ( one of the downsides of the Indian medical education system- you somehow never finish studying), tired of standing back and watch people I thought were less deserving than me, get in so easily to what I had to sweat my blood out for; tired of waiting at crossroads, tired of being taken advantage of, tired of questions, tired……..

Why does it have to be so hard? Why the pain? Why endure such scorn? Why does all this call for so much enduring? Why should it feel like the pressure is weighing in on the soul?

I had followed the Voice, I had taken those steps in faith, I had obeyed… and yet it is hard. Very hard. There are delays, there are trials, diseases, rejection, pain and questions. That being said, there is also the peculiar joy of knowing that He’s got me and I wouldn’t trade that for anything else in the whole wide world.

That’s when the good Lord above reminded me of this poem, author anonymous, a famous preacher quoted once that left an impression on my soul:

When God wants to drill a man, thrill a man and skill a man,
When God wants to mould a man to play the noblest part
When He yearns with all his heart to create so bold a man
That all the world might be amazed,
Watch His methods, watch His ways
!”

Your calling is something God has put in your genes even before you were born. You were chosen. Oh yes, nobody said it was going to be easy. Nobody said you would know what it was right away.

How He ruthlessly perfects, whom He royally elects;
How He hammers and hurts him, and with mighty blows converts him
Into trial shapes of clay, that only God understands
While his tortured heart is crying
and he lifts beseeching hands.”

Every single day, the Lord has called us to do something special, that we would only know if we asked of Him- every single day.

How He bends, But never breaks
When his good He undertakes,
How He uses whom He chooses
And which every purpose fuses him;
By every act induces him
To try His splendour out,
God knows what He’s about
.”

So friend, when you keep striving to do your best and somehow your best is not good enough to keep it all together, and you wonder like a friend of mine did ” Is there no space for human frailty here?”, remember there’s only one place to fight that battle- on your knees, in the presence of your Creator. And right there, just right there, you will find your calling. The purpose for your existence- not just for this season but for the next and the next and the one after that.

I’ll end with a quote by a man who lived and died doing what he was called to do till the very end.

You will never lighten any load until you feel the pressure in your own soul. “( Ravi Zacharias)

Hocus-pocus…..Focus!

The sound of loud wailing pierced the otherwise lazy afternoon atmosphere in front of the hospital casualty, the moment I broke the news. A shocked father, wondering what he’d tell his wife when he got home, the loud thuds from the older women in the family beating their chest like it was a piece of wood or something, and the distraught security guards trying to arrange an ambulance to carry the lifeless body of the child back home. I sighed. This was the second time in 48 hours that I’d looked into the eyes of a parent desperately searching mine for some news of hope, and I’d had to say that there wasn’t any left. Both were young , one seven years old, another fifteen; both could have been helped, had their folks known earlier that hospitals were still functioning despite the lockdown . One fought for sometime in the hospital, the other gave up just before he was brought to the casualty.

As I walked back from the hospital , emotionally drained, the mid noon sun beating down on my head, the faces of the pleading parents flashing before my eyes, I couldn’t resist the rising frustration within me- why hadn’t they brought them in earlier? Why hadn’t they followed up with us? Who told them we weren’t available? The battle in my mind raged on, now turning focus at the general state of affairs in the country wherein in the fight against the novel coronavirus, the cure seems worse than the disease itself.

Frustration. Is an old enemy. But he seems to be closer these days. Not just for me. For any human being on this planet during these times. Frustrated at having to stay indoors the whole time, frustrated that the virus continues to spread and there’s no obvious solution in sight, frustrated with administrations, with governments,with leaders we elected into being, with the weighing scales that show us bigger numbers, with the uncertainties looming large in our lives, with having to wear those impossible protective suits and masks at work, and so on.

I do not deny that this has been a season of Frustration.

But like I said, this guy is an enemy. He’s not a friend. He doesn’t help us, doesn’t encourage us, doesn’t build us. Instead he eats us, from within, makes us want more of him and in the process, trade our joy.

Today we’re frustrated at the government and the way things have been handled, yesterday we were frustrated with our spouses, our lives, our colleagues at work and tomorrow when all of this is over or maybe never, we’ll find new reasons to be frustrated about. This guy can stick closer than you’d want him to and you wouldn’t even know.

And it took me a little knock on the head from a portion of Scripture I read the other day, to let it dawn on me that I’d given this guy a throne in my house. He was no longer a visitor, but I’d let him stay and how! I was trading bits and pieces of the joy I had in the Lord, to this emotion that was eating into me. ( Why can’t it be a ‘she’- your tangential thoughts might ask. I say – Suit yourself).

What was in that Scripture that I read? ( Pick up your Bible and read through the letter to the Philippians). It was a letter from a man named Paul, who was in a Roman prison, in chains, for no wrong he’d done, to his friends, telling them how he always prayed with joy and how to rejoice always and continue to bear fruit and asking them to REJOICE! Well for starters anyone would’ve thought he was bonkers, that prison life had started taking it’s toll on him, but God in His great mercy opened my eyes to see now what Paul saw then.

Yes, the world around me is far from perfect, yes we live in very difficult times, insecure and uncertain times. Yes, it brings our blood to boiling point temperatures when we watch the news or even look around us. Death, uncertainty and poverty have never been more real. So has the realisation of how the lust for power and money can turn people’s hearts to stone.Yes.

But yes, we also have set our hope in a God who gave His life for us, defeated death and sin on the Cross and who promises us eternal life and Joy- something the enemy cannot take away. Death need not surprise us because each one of our days were written in His book even before one of them came to be. We can rest every single moment in the arms of this God who tells us He’s got this.

So what I did the other day, was take that throne I’d given the enemy in my house right out to the dustbin, ask for forgiveness from the Giver of life, and decide to take the magnifying glass with which I was looking at all the hocus-pocus going on around me, to focus it on the One who’s got this. And bear fruit in whatever season I’m in, in whichever place I’m in , because I’m drawing my strength from the streams of Living Water. and remember to Rejoice- even in the prison experience.

Dear friend, how frustrated are you this season? Know that there is a place to lay it down. Kick that guy outta the backdoor. Take your eyes off the hocus-pocus…. and focus.

Oh soul are you weary and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There’s light for a look at the Savior
And life more abundant and free

Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace (Turn your eyes, Helen Howarth Lemmel)

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight, At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more, When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death, And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”
C. S. Lewis ( The chronicles of Narnia)

Livin’ life

I walked past our supplies store the other day , to hear our otherwise mostly annoyed ( which I’ve come to realise is an occupational hazard) store manager laugh out loud. Curious as to what had elicited such joy, I went in to see her laughing over a whatsapp forward that read, ” The dumbest thing I purchased this year(2020) was a year planner.” She read that out to me and started laughing again. I couldn’t help but share in her enthusiasm, nor could I help thinking about it.

“You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?”( Luke 12:20)

This is a very strong warning God gives to a man who made many plans about his life in a story Jesus tells his disciples. Just pause and mull over that statement.

Been feeling a bit foolish lately? You bet I have! We had plans! We had timelines, deadlines. We had academic rosters to complete by so and so month, we had interviews to attend, weddings to plan, places to be, friends to meet, reunions, exams to give…..we could go on. Add on your plans to that list. And then, while we were busy planning and deciding and fretting about, the Great Pause happened. Like literally, we had to stand back and watch as our house of cards came tumbling down.

And for once in all of humanity’s timeline, we do not know what to really do next. We simply cannot plan anymore.

Things have changed, and they’re still changing.

It seems like God decided to press the ‘hibernate’ button on us and our lives simply so we could refocus. People we love and know are dying, some of our very own are refused even a decent burial, others are putting their lives on the line and sweating it out, the rest stay put at home- in all of these cases, we’re seeing a ‘new normal’ that might be a long term thing.

Somehow this Easter Sunday didn’t seem like a regular Easter- there was no gathering in a church for service, there was no celebatory breakfast with extended family in our homes, no sound of everyone singing together, no hugging and wishing each other, no shaking hands- different. The Saturday before Easter somehow seems more silent than usual.

But somehow, this Easter’s message was more powerful than ever. Somehow through all this darkness and confusion, we are realising what’s more important in our lives. We’re learning to declutter and focus on what really matters.

It’s okay if we didn’t have chicken for Easter, it’s okay if we didn’t have the entire family jingbang over for the holiday, it’s okay if the churches were empty- We still have the empty tomb. The fulfilled promise of resurrection. The Risen Lord. We still have a life to be lived in all the glory the Maker intended it to be.

This silence the world has gone into is actually the voice of the Lord screaming across the mess our world is in today, across the wards teeming with patients, across the homes filled with stories of loss and unemployment, across disease, across countries and failed leaderships, over our half- lived lives, over death- LIVE. He says LIVE.

He’s willing to breathe into those dry bones of yours and bring them to life- the wasted years, the hatred, the unforgiveness, the anger, the pursuit of greatness, the lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh, the pride of life- if only you can take it to the the Cross and leave it there.

Hey, how do I live a full life when I cannot rush into my office early morning, when I cannot scream at someone in traffic and get an adrenaline rush out of it or when I cannot see the kind of patients in the hospital I was trained to see? When i can’t take my family out to the park or the mall? Or we can’t hang out at the beach or the movies?

Yes, I hear you. I’m not living in LaLa land either. I’m very much in the middle of all that’s happening. But I shall leave that much to you to figure out. I’m guessing you’re already realising a lot of it, just as I have .

As D.L Moody once said ,’The world has yet to see what God will do with a man fully consecrated ( also read that as – surrendered ) to him.”

This rap from a song sums it up in a way I like( yeah, I said rap)

Maybe I ain’t really know what living is
Is it love? if it was am I living it?
Do I live in it? So astounding

Whether or never I ever understand
I’m a man in the hands of great plans
I stand with faith in a life I never known or touched
It’s still outside my clutch but
I’m like what’s to dream of and what’s to hope in
What’s to die for and live to no end
This is living
The life I’ve been given’s a gift
If I’m gonna live it I’m gonna live it to death! Yeah!

This is living life. (Lecrae, Hillsong, young and free)

Fear……is a liar

” I lift up mine eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth.( Ps 121:1)”

She stood on the terrace, lifting up her hands to the hills with tears flowing down her face and the early southwest winds blowing through her hair, the cries from her heart louder than the rustling of the dry leaves of the trees worn down by the summer — Lord, when will this end? Will you turn and have mercy?

The dark clouds started gathering around and the sound of distant thunder echoed in the air, and she opened her eyes to a very bright sun going down slowly, letting the dark clouds take over. Ravens flying about their usual business. And as the first drop of rain fell on her face, something moved within her- she knew her Help would come. In fact He already had it planned out. She knew that even though the sun wasn’t shining anymore, the promise of rain still stood. When the rain has come and gone, and the thunderstorm has raged and is over, the sun will shine again, but this time with a brightness she never knew she could appreciate before. With a rainbow shining through.

The past couple of months especially the last few weeks haven’t been easy on any of us. After the initial relief of being able to sit at home on paid leave has worn off, the reality has started to sink in. A prolonged lockdown, poverty magnified, unemployment, nations threatening each other over essential equipments and medicines, the possibility of most of the population contracting the virus, the constant question of running out of supplies, losing loved ones and not being able to bid them a proper farewell and most importantly, the billion dollar question of will things ever be the same again? A certain emotion has slowly started to creep into our beings even without us being aware of it- a four letter word- F-E-A-R.

As we see even the most developed nations in the world succumbing in large numbers to this disease, and as we follow the statistics of the mortality of this disease from minute to minute like we’re following some cricket match score ( thanks to the bombarding of information from social media and a lot of free time on our hands),we can’t help but give in to this emotion of fear- will I be next? What happens to my family? Will I still have a job at the end of all this?

And you know what ? Even though these are valid concerns and very relevant questions, these are matters that are way beyond are control. We cannot with our finite human minds even begin to navigate the eternal depth of all of this or be able to predict what happens a few days or few months down the line. Of course we can keep making calculated guesses!

Giving in to fear is by far worse than having contracted the virus itself, simply because it eats you from deep within. Fear tells you that you have to be able to do something desperate to get a hold of your future, fear tells you you might not make it, fear throttles the joy out of you, it questions your faith, it makes you panic, it disturbs your sleep and it destroys your peace, it shrouds over your soul like a dark cloud- fear lies. Truth is , Fear is a liar.

The girl on the terrace will tell you that- that when her soul was most burdened, when she couldn’t take it anymore and was overwhelmed- she was led to do only this one thing- to throw her hands up in the air, and surrender her fears to the Maker of Heaven and Earth, ‘cos there’s only one Person who tells us this over and over again- something her years of intense training or her loved ones or Netflix couldn’t help her with- when the storms blow harder and the clouds grow darker and the uncertainties loom like large shadows in our paths, the still Voice that says ” Do not fear, For I am with You, Do not be dismayed for I am your God…I will uphold you with my Righteous Right Hand.”( Isaiah 41:10).

Now I know that you have no business sitting and reading the musings of a random doctor who’s seemingly overly hopeful- no, you have absolutely no reason to be wasting time on this space. But, while you’re here, allow me to exhort you to this- Hold on to Jesus. He’s got this. Let’s get the liar out of our lives and trod on knowing that no matter how bad this gets , God’s got this.

And as we wait for the storms to calm, we continue at what He has called us to do, continuing to love, serve, teach, train and worship.

“He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.” ( Psalm 121:3,4)

Kum ba yah

Extraordinary times. Extraordinary circumstances.

Shutting down of economies, of countries, of offices, of railways and roadways, of homes and doors and gates. The highlight of the same being the indefinite nature of it. All because we hope to overcome a certain power that causes disease, that is invisible to the naked eye. Oh yes, we’re definitely in times that are historically super significant- one that the future generations ( if we survive to that, that is) will read about in history books and one that we will talk about to old age and grey hair.

Empty parks, empty beaches, silent campuses, empty corridors. Empty malls and shelves within the malls. The song of the birds louder than ever. The seas bluer than before. The skies clearer than ever. The haunting absence of the ever punctual train horn. Extraordinary.

A whole generation that is used to running around – the digital era, the supersonic, the we-don’t-have-time-for-delays generation- being forced to slow down, actually stop, to sit at home and start digging out old forgotten puzzles and share time with family they were too busy to notice before, to ‘rediscover’ cooking , ‘cos no one’s delivering at the doorstep anymore and most importantly just WAIT. For how long? No one knows! Yes, extraordinary.

Let’s just call it the Times of the Great Pause. The Great Timeout.

When God put a semicolon in the middle of our stories; ( mind you, it’s not a full stop). He decided we need to halt, pause and take our hands off everything( like literally) and just look up and then look around and therefore look within.

Could He be any more dramatic? you could ask me. Well, I’m guessing He desperately needed to catch our attention. He can be quite the drama person at times ( like our parents can be when they desperately need our focus).

As the virus keeps spreading and as more and more lives are on the line, the inevitable questions that loom large are- how long? Why now? What’s the end point? Will there even be one? what becomes of us?

And as part of medical training we’re always taught to prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Well in this case what we’re doing currently is preparing for the worst and expecting the worst. The times have come to that. So everyday there are meetings and endless discussions on how to get more personal protective equipment, how do we keep ourselves and others safe, how much of social distancing, what happens if…?What if…? What if…?

Ironic as it may seem, over the past couple of weeks and months, one of the prayers of my heart towards my future was- Lord please move this mountain.( This was before the Great Time-out). Imagine my dismay when not just the mountain, but everything, literally everything just stopped moving. Not just the mountain darling, nothing is moving now- except time and the virus of course!

I live in a small town near the base of the Western Ghats in Tamil Nadu which is pretty much surrounded by a railway track that runs all around, Ever since I’ve come here, the trains crossing the tracks at regular intervals have been one of the most beautiful sights to see, and one of those sounds we get used to, so much so that when they didn’t run for a single journey the other day, and for the days after that, it felt almost apocalypsal. ( I’m not sure that’s a word, but if it wasn’t before, it is from now on. End of discussion.). That’s one of those days when the reality of what’s hit us hit home.

It’s humbling how when God decided to call a time-out, He spared no one. No, Not a single soul. We’re looking ahead towards times of great distress, of endless waiting, some of us at home, others at work at the hospitals, times of physical and mental stress, and when we’ve passed that, times of economic breakdown and lots of unemployment. Not heartening times at all. Nothing to be all ‘chilled out’ about. No, I do not intend to scare you. I’m just stating the obvious.

But here’s what we can hold on to- ( as usual,I had a Q & A session with the Man Upstairs)- That as children of the Maker of Heaven and Earth, despite the Time of the Great Pause , no matter where you are in life as you read this or what place you’ve been quarantined in, He has you where He wants you– in life, in the quarantine and in the storms of life. Exactly where He wants you. Ever thought about that?

You might’ve gotten stuck in another state or country unable to return home, or you might be stuck with the most unpleasant of people, the last ones on earth you would’ve thought of being locked down with, but that’s just where you’re wanted my friend. He couldn’t have you anywhere else.

So as we wait endlessly for things to turn around, let’s get our prayer mats rolling and our knees on the floor and our voices piercing through the silence, to ask Him of what His will for our lives is. Why does He so desperately need our attention?What’s He trying to tell us? If it isn’t enough that He got everything around us to pause, He’s also silenced the whole wide world.

And yes, wouldn’t you want to be ready with the answers to the next step you need to take in life when finally the tide turns, and the gates open and people flock to parks and beaches and are hugging again and holding hands( without having to sanitise them every now and then) and the sounds of laughter, of fellowship, of hustling and bustling return? Wouldn’t we want our skies of darkness to give way to clearer horizons and our stormy seas to deep blue waters?

While we’re at it, I’m reminded of this African- American folk song we learnt as little children:

Kum bay ya, my Lord, kum bay ya; Hear me singing, my Lord, kum bay ya; Now I need you, Lord, come by here; Come by here, my Lord, come by here,

For one second on this world you made,
For the love that will never fade,
For a heart beating with joy,
For all that’s real, for all we feel.

Kum bay ya, my Lord, kum bay ya;

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land. (2 Chronicles 7:14) (NIV)

Anxious for nothing

I sat at the railway station , waiting for the already delayed train that was running by the IST( Indian Stretchable Time, as most of us know it). The regular buzz of activity at the station- relatives, not-so-related-ives, vendors, porters, children, mothers, fathers , and the rest of a tiny bit of India’s booming population continued. The familiar stench of urine mixed with the smell of vada and chai drifting along with the evening breeze( for what is an Indian railway station without that smell!) reaching everyone on that platform, affecting none. As I continued staring out onto the empty platform across the railway tracks, a gush of wind blew in and this girl , maybe around six years of age, came into the frame riding her pink and white bicycle, laughing hysterically as the wind blew through her long curly hair with her younger brother chasing her on foot. Such a sight! How happy and carefree, I thought. Her laughter penetrated through the noise on the opposite platform. Oh to be able to be that carefree, I wished. To just feel the wind in my hair and face. And laugh, loud and uninhibited- the kind that started from the heart and reached the eyes!

I continued to look and smile till the shrill whistle of the train I was supposed to get on pierced the air, and the people around me started getting busy again.

I was taking a break from work and going home- for almost 2 weeks. Yes, you heard me right- I said I took a break- a good long one- yes, the workaholic me, the person who feels more exhausted with a holiday than if she was working. And no, I wasn’t in any sort of crisis. Also no, I wasn’t going home to get married in secret. I’d just reached the end of my battery, I needed a recharge. I needed to zoom out of the microscopic picture that is just me and work and the mountains and hurdles I see before me that have not moved much, to see the bigger picture that is the rest of my life, family and what God requires of me.

Going home, to a traditional South Indian, more specifically, a malayalee home, when you’re in your late twenties and you’re still single and you have different aspirations with your life other than just procreating or making money or satisfying the whims and fancies of every single soul around you, and when you have competitive cousins and relatives you don’t relate to, is like walking into a preheated oven- you either come out baked or burnt- depending on how you handle the heat. So that was my state of affairs. But I held on. It wasn’t easy, not at all. The questions weren’t simple, the worry was genuine, the nights weren’t peaceful, the tears were real, the storm raged on…

Somehow we feel the need to perform- or rather outperform, the need to fall in line with the rest of the ‘society’ and the ‘culture’ and whatever looks good to the uncle next door. But here’s what my learning has been. When you’ve taken a step forward into following Christ, you’ll have to leave behind everything you thought was your security. Everything. Even the uncle next door who thinks he’s got it right. Peter had to leave his net and boat behind to become a fisher of men. Matthew had to leave his tax collector’s pen and pad and office behind to collect and save souls from hellfire. Saul had to leave his learning, his culture and all the values he held so dear behind to become Paul. You’ll have to empty yourself so He can fill you to overflowing to be used by Him. It’s crystal clear. He cares nothing about the timelines and the boundaries and the price tags society has put for you. He cares nothing about your degrees or your achievements or how well you can boast about either.

He cares for your surrender.

So one of those sleepless nights at home, I sat on the terrace, staring at the starlit night sky, questioning myself as to whether I’ve done the right thing in letting go of every ‘security’ I could have had by worldly standards, and taking hold of the Hand that was pierced for me into this world of medical missions , or should I have just stayed back at home within my comfort zone in the first place and spared everyone all this heartache and spared myself these sleepless nights wondering when the door in this dark hallway will open shining light on the next step forward.

And in the silence of the night, interrupted only by the sound of the questions in my head and the chirping of the cricket who somehow has found a place for itself in our house, the answer was clear- there was no mistake. The picture of that little girl riding her cycle with her hair blowing out and the wind in her face and her laughter ringing of sheer delight came back to me. And the Voice of the One who has knit me together in my mother’s womb spoke- ” Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you.” (1Peter 5:6 MSG)

The questions are still not simple, the tears are still real, the nights may be as long as the day, the storms might still be lashing on- but may the song in your heart never cease. The song of praise. Praise in the storm.

If the world from you withholds of its silver and its gold,
And you have to get along with meager fare,
Just remember, in His Word, how He feeds the little bird;
Take your burden to the Lord, leave it there.
Leave it there, leave it there,
Just take your burden to the Lord oh and leave it there.
If you trust him through your doubt, He will surely bring you out.
Take your burden to the Lord, leave it there.
” ( Leave it there- Charles A. Tindley)

Can we live carefree before God knowing He’s most careful about us? Can we surrender all?

Auld Lang Syne

The falling apart of what was once a great secular nation. The demise of a beloved Sultan. A world lingering on the brink of another world war. The breakdown of many economies. Raging forest fires. Darkness. Violence. Insecurity. And the dawn of another decade.

These events have heralded in the new year and the beginning of another decade. And the excitement and anticipation regarding days to come isn’t a positive one. It’s more like a feeling of impending doom. What times have we come to?

I’m sure each one of you reading this at the moment have wondered atleast once in the last couple of weeks as to whether its only going to go downhill from here. What happened to those days gone by? How did we get here ? ( If you haven’t been thinking along those lines, please put down this blog and pick up the newspaper).

Strangely so , this has also been the situation at a personal level- questions, uncertainty and a feeling of impending doom. Not knowing what decision to make, not knowing how this will all turn out. No, we do not have all the answers. And yes, it may go downhill from here- we do not know. Maybe the cloud of darkness is here to stay for a while. It’s not ours to say. So what do we do? We, who are tossed to and fro by the waves of change around us? What do our days hold in store for us?

As I sat down the week gone by, wondering as to what next, my phone rings, a weak but excited voice on the other end, ” Akka I’m better now, I’m out of the ICU and I’ll come and see you soon”. I smiled for long time after that conversation. Nisha, was a fifteen year old girl I’d seen in OPD who had a heart condition and we’d sent her to the experts for further care. She had crashed on Christmas day morning and underwent a miraculous recovery to say the least (‘cos I want to spare you the technical jargon) over the next one week. For the next couple of days I spent my entire thought- life obsessing over why she’d suddenly become so sick. I could still hear her voice in my head early morning on Christmas day saying she’s not able to breathe properly. And the next thing I knew was that she was intubated and being rushed for emergency surgery. One of the notions we acquire very early on as young doctors, and one that wears off ( the sooner the better for one’s own good) with advancing age and experience is that we can solve anything , any problem- a God complex. So as I taxed my brains and all sorts of literature available to figure out what I could’ve done better for her, that still Voice of the Master called out from deep within my heart as the emotional fatigue weighed in- Hey, look up! This battle is not yours. But there is one thing to do for her- fight it out for her on your knees. And that’s when I surrendered that battle to the Lord and just lifted my hands up to heaven for her in prayer. It wasn’t my fight.

As we stand on the threshold of another year, amidst a world that is crumbling around us, Oh yes! There’s so much that needs to change ! But like I was reminded the other day, some battles aren’t ours to fight. We cannot change the whole world. We cannot react to every single thing gone wrong around the world. But yes, we can start with the world within us and around. Let’s stand strong for someone else closeby, let’s make a difference to that one life. Let’s bring some sunshine into the world for that one person, being slow to anger, abounding in love. And let’s start fighting our battles on our knees. Let’s take that cup of kindness and extend it to the neighbour, transforming from selfishness to selflessness.

Let’s carry each other’s hearts and have their backs.

I end with this originally Scottish melody that’s sung widely world over at the dawn of the New Year as a toast to the coming days and the ones gone by:

“And there’s a hand my trusty friend!
And give me a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for days of auld lang syne.

For days of auld lang syne, my dear,
for days of auld lang syne,
we’ll take a cup of kindness yet,
for days of auld lang syne.

Philippians 4:6-7 The Message (MSG)

Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.

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Universal Flexion

The attitude of a baby in the mother’s womb. Every joint bent and flexed to remain comfortably within the confines of the womb. You would’ve come across the term sometime.( If not, feel free to Google or ask Alexa or Siri or the girl next door).

Anyways, this is not a medical class I promise. Rather, this term has particularly been coming back to me, echoing among the madness of my thought life, in a really interesting way.

‘What on earth am I doing here?’ I was thinking the other day as I trudged back from work. Ever had that thought? Ever felt like you knew what you were doing all along and then suddenly you’ve lost that sense of direction? No, its okay if you have those thoughts before you hit your 40s- call it a mid life crisis or a quarter life crisis or one-tenth of a life crisis- or whatever- it’s still a crisis.

Sometimes, squat in the middle of being or doing what you’ve always believed you were called to do, suddenly you lose focus. Maybe because you were so focussed on what you were doing, that you’ve lost sight of the bigger picture. Or you’ve been through enough and more( so you think) of life that you feel you can’t think clearly anymore- everything’s a haze. Or maybe you feel life in general has the responsibility of treating you kindly or more gracefully (good luck with that!). It’s like those art and craft classes where you’ve been cross stitching and cross stitching with so much focus that after a while you really need to stop and look at the whole picture to actually remind yourself of what shape you were striving to achieve in the first place.

So, the reason why I was thinking this was not because I have a sad life- but because I didn’t feel particularly fruitful or exhilarated so to say with this season of my life. It’s easy to feel like you’re making sense when you’ve received an award or you’ve published a paper or you’ve made a breakthrough discovery or you managed a procedure that was difficult for everyone else or you’ve cracked an exam that was otherwise impossible. But you know, what happens on the other days- the days when you just see and treat the common colds, when you do the routine, mundane, not so exciting stuff- is your life also making sense then? Are you still part of the picture? Is there still a Plan?

And as with all other things, I sat down with the Maker with these questions hanging over me, and He asked me a few questions in return.

From the day you enter medical school, you also enter this never ending need for always performing, always being the best of what you are and being at the top of what you know- there’s nothing wrong with that per se. Except, it’s a lifetime calling. It doesn’t begin at 8 am and finish at 5 pm- it goes on, you get called in the night, you might have to stay back with a weeping relative, you might have to run in a bit early for a woman who suddenly went into labour, and so on. And so, as this process continues, we sometimes get so focussed on what we do and how we do it and the tight schedules we live, that suddenly we realise, we’ve lost focus- which thread goes where? What was the design I started out to make? We get caught in this web of our own weaving and then we lose sight of the way out.

In times like these , it’s helpful to stop, stand up straight and tall from all the stooping you’ve been doing to get it right and just survey the bigger picture.

“Does it make you a king to have more and more cedar? Did not your father have food and drink? He did what was right and just. So all went well with him. He defended the cause of the poor and needy, and so all went well. Is that not what it means to know me?” declares the Lord ( Jeremiah 22:15, 16)

That was the question I was asked.

Does that put anything into perspective for you? It did for me!

If you think about it, the way we develop physically is pretty much a reflection of how we should essentially develop mentally and spiritually as well- from that point of universal flexion, the comfort of the womb, to slowly standing up on your own feet and standing tall and on your own, and then when you’ve been able to stand and have found your standing with Jesus as your firm foundation, to be able to really reach out and uplift those who really struggle to find a place with God and with society.

Instead, most times, we end up continuing to find warmth in our comfort zones and remain in that attitude of universal flexion- we find it easier to treat malnutrition in our wards than going out into the society and making sure these children have good nutrition in the first place, we find it easier to stand on a podium and talk, than hold somebody’s hand and address what they’re really going through; We find it easier to shake our heads and ‘pray’ for a friend in need than honestly meeting them at their point of need, we would rather go on with the old system when we know that change is the need of the moment. It’s easier to keep quiet, mind your own business and walk off, than speak up for the injustice you see in front of your eyes.

So think about it- What does it mean to the Master if you have a forest full of cedar trees ( replace that with your accolades, your degrees, your riches, or anything else you an think of), when you’ve turned a blind eye to a homeless man? When you can’t stand up for what is right and just?

Like a young lady centuries ago was told ,”Who knows? Maybe you were made queen for just such a time as this.”( Esther 4:14)

Maybe you are placed where you are for a time such as this.

Head above the waters…

My only memory of even trying to swim was at six years of age, when my dad decided to teach me to swim. So we packed our bags with a full change of clothes and the entire family went off to spend an evening at the seaside and my dad started off with the instructions. Growing up in a middle eastern desert that formed the coast of the Arabian Sea, beaches were where we spent most of our evenings more than parks or malls; the raging beauty of the waves and the salt kissed air constituting a significant part of my childhood.

Now the instructions were simple- ” Walk into the water till your feet are off the ground, keep your head above the waves, and move. Most importantly, do not panic when the water hits your face ‘cos always remember- I’m holding you.” (Now you swimming experts might have varied opinions- you can write to my dad later.)

So I confidently went into the water with him holding me, looked around, saw the waves coming, forgot about the stronger hands beneath me and I freaked out. You can imagine the rest. That was the most salt water I’ve tasted in a long long time. And what was supposed to be a joyful lesson, turned out to be a rescue mission to save his eldest offspring from drowning. And that was also the only attempt on my father’s part to teach me this skill. Yeah that’s true, I can’t swim for peanuts.

Now more than a decade later , as the rain pours heavily outside my small house , the sound of heavy raindrops interspersed with deafening thunder, there’s another storm that’s raging inside of me- one that is almost overwhelming me, so much so that I can feel the water rushing into my nostrils, trying to drown me- the storm of doubts over an uncertain future, the storm that’s reminding me of all the impossibilities that lie ahead, the mountains that are too big to climb, the questions your parents ask that have no answers you can give that will make sense to them, the haunting thought that maybe its all a lost cause, that maybe the sun might never really shine again, that maybe…. I close my eyes, and all I see of myself is my hand stretching out for help above the waves to the Maker – for grace , for relief. Enough Lord! I have cried out. How long will this go on?

And this Voice comes through from a past memory, but this time from the Heavenly Father, “Keep your head above the water, daughter. Remember, I’m holding you.” Its not easy, but that’s all there is to do.

Maybe as you read this, you picture yourself there , being overwhelmed by the storms that rage at you and around you, maybe you’re crying out for help silently, maybe you’re hoping someone will see your outstretched arm before you completely drown, maybe the lack of light for your next step terrifies you, maybe you’re thinking of all the ‘what ifs’ and that keeps you awake at night. Maybe you’ve given up on hope altogether, maybe you’ve lost what little you thought you had. Maybe…

Well you know what your maybe is.

Friend, I write this tonight to remind you as much as I was reminded today- He holds you. If you look at His face and not at the waves crashing in on you, you will walk on this water that threatens to take you with it. Oh its not too difficult for Him. It definitely is not insignificant to Him. This storm will calm, we will see that rainbow over the clouds.

All we need is the grace to keep our head above the waters. Well guess what I discovered for the nth time? That with His promises there’s never a ‘maybe’.

Micah 7:7 New King James Version (NKJV)
Therefore I will look to the Lord;
I will wait for the God of my salvation;
My God will hear me.

The Wait…

“Akka, are the wristbands ready?”, asked one small eager voice, running up to me. I looked at her with a sorry smile, saying ,” No da, I’ll give them soon.” “Okayyy”. she says. ” I wanna give you a really nice one”, I said…that’s why the delay- I explain. She considered it for some time, didn’t seem too convinced, but anyways shrugged her shoulder and calls out to her friends- ‘ We’re getting the bands next week. They’re gonna be really pretty. That’s why the delay.’ And she gives me a hug and runs off. I stood there looking after her, for a long long time.

I had promised the fifth to eighth graders I take Sunday School for regularly, that I would make them special wristbands, for faithfully learning their weekly lessons well. However, it’s been 3 weeks since I said that, and every week they come looking eagerly for any signs of the bands. The work is under progress, though I’ve not gotten the time to really finish them off ‘cos on weekdays I’m looking after the sick children. I’ve been slowly perfecting these bands but it’s taking time. But they’ll get them. The wait will end, and they’ll be happy they waited. But they’ll have to wait…for now.

As the little girl ran off into the distance, God was softly speaking to my heart. She loves nevertheless, she waits with joy and trusts nevertheless.

The wait- waiting for a breakthrough, waiting for a direction forward, waiting for healing, waiting on God- is difficult- fruitful at the end they all say, but it’s definitely difficult for now. You know it as well as I do.

Standing at crossroads, and looking around for an opening, while for now all I see is walls closing off every possible path before me, I’ve been crying out to the Author of my story to show me what next, when will this wait for a breakthrough end?Will it end at all? Or will I forever be stuck at this point? Have I missed an opening somewhere? Is even a window going to open?

Sometimes the only company you have as you ask these questions are the shadows of your own doubts… and a painful desperation that echoes back at you.

And time and again, the reassurance that He’s on it, he’s working at it and He’ll come through – at the time He’s ordained, has been holding me up. But on most days than not, I come back to my den asking for more grace to trust the Almighty with the big and the small details of my life. How many times have you felt like that? Stuck. No movement forward at all. When people ask you how you’re doing, you feel like you have the same thing to say as yesterday, last month or even last year, or maybe the last couple of years? Welcome to the club. I’m the President( of that club).

Almost invariably , all the time, the world refuses to let you rest in the peace that God will come through- No. We need immediate answers, we want to see immediate results, we want to wait essentially for as short as a time as possible. More than us and our families, it’s the friendly neighbours who want to know better. If there’s a delay, that means it’s a denial/the end. But funnily enough the Father above has a different timeline altogether. Nothing good has ever come out of hastily made decisions, no big break came through in a second.

Lazarus was dead 4 days before Jesus raised him up from the dead, another woman suffered from a bleeding disorder for 12 years before she got to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment and get healed, Abraham had a baby at the age of hundred- and so on and so forth. You may have your own stories of how He might’ve been ‘late’ but He was actually just on time.

So friend, sometimes the wristbands take time, because He’s perfecting that pattern, and He’s moulding you as you wait patiently on Him, but He does come through- He always does. Take it from the girl who’s standing in a dark spot right now, with absolutely no clue as to what next, who’s plagued with questions from all four corners of her world, and crushed with pain when she sees her folks’ hopelessness, and all she can do is look up and cry out- to the Father above, her Friend from her youth, ‘cos no one else will understand that pain.

As I looked on at my little student chasing off into the distance, a still voice was asking me if I could do just the same- to love Him nevertheless, to trust nevertheless, to wait with joy nevertheless. And to know that Love will break-through.

Can you?

 "But You're four days late And all hope is gone
Lord we don't understand why you've waited so long
But His way is God's way Not yours or mine
When He's four days late
He's still on time
" ( Song by Karen Peck and New River)

Broken and beautiful…

I know you’re probably uprolling your eyes at the title. ‘Oh please’- you must be saying, ‘It’s so cliche.’ Yeah, I agree, but since you’re here, do endure to the end of this.

Let me introduce another term to you – Dysfunctional- a word most of us are familiar with- and probably identify with. Atleast I do- dysfunctional individual, family, relationships, lives. So if you have one or all of the above in your life- does that mean there’s no hope? Or is that your identity? Or is that the excuse?

And beneath most of this ‘dysfunction’ we see brokenness- broken dreams, broken hopes and desires, broken trust , broken homes. And a bunch of people who don’t know where to go with these broken pieces.

So I accidentally broke a glass bottle the other day, gathered the big ugly shards of glass, put them together near the window, thinking I’ll discard them later (irresponsible- I know!). Guess what I wake up to the next morning? The sunrays dancing colours through those broken pieces, and more brilliantly through the sharpest, ugliest parts of the broken pieces- it was a beautiful sight to behold! I stood and stared and smiled – magnificent work of art ( no, not me breaking the bottle- that was plain carelessness). Deep, I thought. Who ever thought that these ugly looking seeemingly useless , dysfunctional glass pieces would be a cause of wonder anymore?!!

It’s this thought that’s been there on my mind in the recent past, probably a result of all the stories I’ve been hearing or what I myself have been going through with the different people and situations I’ve encountered.

All of us in some way or the other, have encountered brokenness- broken hearts, trust that was betrayed , relationships that never stood their stead, families that fell apart, desires that never saw the light of day and dreams that were torn to pieces. We’ve had those moments where we’ve felt so hopeless and so broken that we doubt we can be of any good any more. While I do not have the answers to why these things happen, something God taught me through those glass pieces was this- When you let the Son of God shine through that brokenness, through that dysfunctional state of yours, you’ll see a different kind of beauty arise from those ugly shards of shatteredness ( now this may be an original word)- brilliant colours in what was once dull and grey. All it takes is to surrender the brokenness to the One who makes all things whole.

The funny thing about the God of the Bible is, He specialises in working with broken people, people written off by their own loved ones, people who thought all their dreams and hopes had ended, people from dysfunctional families and basically anyone who has nothing to offer but his/her broken state. So if you and me are at this place in life where we have nothing to offer but our broken, dysfunctional selves- that’s exactly how Jesus wants you. You’re home with Him. Surrender, and then stand back and watch the light shine through.

“All these pieces
Broken and scattered
In mercy gathered
Mended and whole
Empty-handed
But not forsaken
I’ve been set free..”( Broken vessels/Amazing grace- Hillsong)