To The Last Drop Of Blood

Image Credit: Andrej Anei [1]

   A sermon preached by Pastor John Neufeld at Willingdon Church two weeks ago has given me much to think about since I poured out some of my internal conflict and consternation in my last post. At the time, I was really wanting a new day [2] and a fresh start on a new chapter of life, after what seems to have been a rather trying year that has left me feeling rather drained.

   So it was, while trying to pick myself up off the ground and find the internal drive to get moving again, that the words of "What Real Life Looks Like" [3] spoke to me at a much needed moment, as Pastor John explored the following passage of the book of Philippians:

"..and in this I rejoice, yes, and will rejoice. For I know that this will turn out for my deliverance through your prayer and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, according to my earnest expectation and hope that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labour; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Nevertheless to remain in the flesh is more needful for you. And being confident of this, I know that I shall remain and continue with you for all your progress and joy of faith, that your rejoicing for me may be more abundant in Jesus Christ by my coming to you again."

- Philippians 1:18-26, NKJV

   What do you desire more than anything else? What are the things you passionately look to have? What do you think is the example of a successful human being? What does success look like? And what are the things in your life that you would sacrifice, and what are the things that under no circumstances would you ever sacrifice if you had that chance? These were some of the opening questions of the sermon that gave me cause to pause and reflect. They brought back memories of my own convictions that I have come to over the years on these matters, and words that I have in effect written to myself to this effect on this blog as reminders. I took a good, hard look at a Mission Statement sitting on my desk that I had written out for myself seven years ago, a fresh graduate at the end of my undergraduate program in Engineering. The words and convictions are still the same, yet the man behind them has changed, grown, undergone metamorphosis, chrysalis...

So what answer do I have for those questions, with where I find myself?

    An answer to those questions emerged as Pastor John worked his way through his sermon. 

   Thinking about the situation in which I've found myself over the last two months - out of a job and looking for work, I find that I can intellectually assent to the statement that "hardships are opportunities", but struggling to find out what that looks like in my situation on the ground or how to get to where I'm supposed to go. To tell the truth, sometimes I've just felt dead on the inside in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty of this current episode, trying my best to keep things from falling apart, get back up and barely hanging on in the process. Planted between my situation and opportunity stand the determined foes of my own self, with whom I must do battle: my inertia, lethargy, apathy, dejection, despair, resignation.  

The foe is not out there, he is in here - in my mind and heart.

   If this, as Pastor John explained, is "what real life looks like", I don't stand a chance of making it through on my own. If anything, that should be the lesson that I should learn from this episode, if not from those of the last several years - that the resources are not in me to make it through. I really need help.

 

   It was the reminder of Jesus that brought things into focus for me. After all, who else has been the core subject of all that I have written and thought about? Who else has been the companion of this fool in search of Wisdom? It is really He that has been the cause of every post that I have written, and Him that I have thought about as I conclude every one of them. All of this has been written for and about Him. All that has motivated and driven me to do anything worthwhile has been my love for Christ, and Christ alone.

"But none of these things move me; nor do I count my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy, and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God."

- Acts 20:24, NKJV

   That sentence, from the mouth of the Apostle Paul, is the answer of the Word of God that I latched on to. It brings into perspective everything that has happened to me - everything I have written to myself; every conviction that I have held; every resolution and promise that I have made; every up and down; every setback; every hardship; every heartbreak; every loss and gain; every abandonment and rejection; every failure and disappointment; every sorrow and anguish. None of these things must move me, because they are not the end goal. They do not matter if the sole purpose of my life is not to preserve it, but to lose it.

   This, I think, is the reminder that will help me get back up and keep moving forward - "nor do I count my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy." My life is not precious to me, to be held on to tightly and kept comfortable. I will pour it out for the sake of Christ and others, till the last drop of blood is gone, and there is nothing left to give anymore. This is my purpose. And when that has been done, I will have reached my finish line and I will go to the home that awaits me [4] in the Land of the Living [5].

   The greatest obstacle of my life is my self; the greatest purpose - to pour everything out for Christ, till the last drop of my life and blood is gone; the greatest gain - to go home to Him.

    It's been a struggle to find the right words to write this, but I feel better now. I think a words of a hymn that is also my prayer are appropriate to conclude this post:

O Thou, who camest from above,
The pure celestial fire to impart
Kindle a flame of sacred love
On the mean altar of my heart!

There let it for Thy glory burn,
With inextinguishable blaze
And trembling to its source return,
In humble prayer, and fervent praise

Jesus, confirm my heart's desire,
To work and speak, and think for Thee
Still let me guard the holy fire,
And still stir up Thy gift in me

Ready for all Thy perfect will,
My acts of faith, and love repeat
Till death Thy endless mercy seal,
And make my sacrifice complete

- Charles Wesley

    These were the words with which I began last year. I'm glad I was reminded of them as this year begins to draw to a close. Everything, till the last drop of blood is gone.

- The Wisdom Seeker

REFERENCES:

============

[1]  Blood Drop

[2] "Can I Have A New Day?"

[3] "What Real Life Looks Like", John Neufeld, October 21st at Willingdon Church
[4] Where Is Home?

[5] From the Land of the Dying to the Land of the Living

One Life Blossoms, Another Departs

    The three weeks since my last post have been quite eventful. As much as I have wanted to write, it seems there has been even more to think over. Just as the four-part series of posts last year on my childhood hurts and wounds that began with "Infliction: Childhood Wounds" forced me to wade into some of the painful memories of the past, the past three weeks have brought me once again to a point of facing some painful realities about life and myself. I think I'll start with the most recent, which was while attending a memorial service for Jamie's grandmother on Saturday.

    Jamie's grandmother had passed away last month, just a week or so short of Easter [1]. Although I've been to funerals before, this was the first time in my life I was attending a memorial service, so I didn't quite know what to expect. Nonetheless, it turned out to be quite a day for reflection, beginning with the trip there to the time I returned home.

    Dressed in a black suit and tie and clutching a boquet of flowers, I was headed out on the Skytrain (Vancouver's elevated rail transit system) to Commercial Drive station when a fellow passenger commented on the flowers and appreciated them. Asking if I was going to a special event, he expressed his sympathy when I mentioned that I was attending a memorial service. "We all have to face our mortality one day", I said with a sigh, voicing some of the thoughts in my head. He agreed, and I asked him if he had given it much thought. "Oh, yes", he replied. "I've been thinking about it for many years, and I'm comfortable with the idea of my mortality." Curious to hear more, I asked him what conclusion he had come to. "Well, we only go through this world once, so you've gotta value and take care of those around us, y'know? 'cos each time you see someone might be the last time you ever get to be with them." Somehow, this didn't seem terribly satisfactory to me, so I asked if he'd ever thought of life after death. "Well, I think there's a certain spirituality out there, kind of like this great circle of life, and we're all part of it. I could come back in another life, eh, maybe be return as a mosquito or something, y'know?"

    "That's it?", I thought to myself. That's it? After all the years of thiking he's devoted to it in contemplating his mortality, that's all he could come to? Take care of those around you. Be a "good" person to them, because you may not ever see them again. You're on a great circle of life, and there's no real way to tell, but there might be a possibility that you could come back as something else, though there's no way to tell what that "something" might be.

I hate listening to vague answers like that. I simply hate them.

    I suppose this revulsion stems in part from the kind of person that I am - I dislike vague directions and imprecise answers; I dislike half-sentences that hang in mid-air like a broken limb, with the assumption that I will somehow decrypt the message and put it all back together. I loathe being surprised with information at the last minute. I dislike them even more when they're camouflaged with bombastic words that have the appearance of intellectual sophistry. I hate them because they make me tense and leave people hanging. And I hate being left hanging.

There must be a better answer. There HAS TO BE. I refuse to accept anything less. I CAN'T.

    Catching a bus on the final leg of my journey to to the memorial home where the service was to be held, I saw a young Chinese couple tending to their little baby in a stroller. As the mother chatted with the child and the father tucked her in, I took in their shopping - a box of diapers, a watermelon stowed in the undercarriage of the stroller, and other things for a new family. The irony was not lost on me as I took it all in - watching the care and effort being poured into the blossoming of one life that had newly entered the world, while on my way to an event to remember another that had recently departed.

    I found myself thinking about parents and their children, and the transience of life. Looking at the little girl in the stroller, or any other infant for that matter, the last thing one usually thinks about is picturing that child at the end of its life - aged and dying, awaiting the inevitable coffin. But Jamie's grandmother was once a toddler like the one in front of me, just as my own parents and grandparents were. I looked at my hand and thought about myself and those of my own generation - what would happen when the time came for our own passing on? Would someone one day think the same thoughts on their way to my own funeral? Did it really matter if someone thought about me? Maybe not. I'm still processing these thoughts as I write this. The memorial service itself only gave me more to think about. As I sat down and looking around at everyone gathered there, I wondered who they were and what was going on in their heads. What were they thinking about? Were they contemplating the same things I was?

    At such times, eloquent discourses and the intellectual sophistry of philosophical postulation don't really offer much in terms of comfort. The acclaimed posits of the learned minds that dotted the textbook of the philosopical and political electives that I took during my undergraduate degree aren't very convincing. Deontologicalism, Teleologicalism, Utilitarianism, Kantianism, Epicurianism, Stoicism, Marxism, Capitalism, Communism - the 'isms' and schisms of the solemn supermen and self-styled imperial diplomatists offer very little to reflect upon. If anything, the questions only mushroom like the tell-tale aftermath of a nuclear detonation.

    I'm going to stop here for now and sort out some of the thoughts in my head. Before I go, I'd like to end with two sets verses from the Old Testament that have suddenly popped into my head. One is from the book of Job, the other from the book of Ecclesiastes:

    "Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshipped. And he said, 'Naked I came from my mother's womb,m and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord'...Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?' In all this Job did not sin with his lips." (Job 1:20-21, 2:10, ESV)

    "Deliver my soul from the wicked by your sword, from my by your hand, O Lord, from men of the world whose portion is this life. You fill their womb with treasure; they are satisfied with children, and they leave their abundance to their infants. As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness." (Psalm 16:13-15, ESV)

    See you in the next post, after I've done some processing.

- The Wisdom Seeker

REFERENCES:
[1] Phan Wai Sun - http://www.legacy.com/can-vancouver/Obituaries.asp?Page=Notice&PersonID=150780145

Trustworthy And True

My yellowed and tattered old Bible - the Word of the only true and trustworthy God I know

    While I was writing my last post on the pain of loss, a phrase in one of the verses that I referenced caught my eye: "...these words are trustworthy and true" (Revelation 21:5). They've been in my head for the last three days, even as I've been trying to keep up with change as my life undergoes major transition.

    It has occurred to me that anything that is presented to me in the form of a statement, fact or person, also carries with it an associated appeal to believe in those things or people. In essence, I'm being asked to trust that what is being presented to me is true. Relationships, conversation, family, friendships, advertising, buying/selling, work...in the kind of world in which we live, this happens incessantly in every aspect of life - "Great dollar value! Save up to 50% off!"; "Satisfaction guaranteed!"; "We'll do what's best for you!"; "Trust us to take care of your money!"; "Good job! You're awesome!"; "I'll get the job done";  "You're incredibly beautiful"; "You mean everything to me"; "I love you with all my heart"; and perhaps that most used and abused sentence of appeal for trust in one's trustworthiness:

    "I, so-and-so, take you, so-and-so, to be my my lawfully-wedded husband/wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

    With the cacophony of voices that call out to me every day, from every side, it becomes increasingly difficult to figure out who to believe, in what they say. I believe that this is the case for the rest of society too. Isn't it interesting that the more we desire trustworthiness and truthfulness in people, the more we find that it becomes nearly impossible to enforce? Our laws become longer and more complex. Giving one's word is useless now, we must sign reams of paper. It isn't enough to state things simply either - the fine print of clauses and conditions at the bottom of agreements grows ever larger. We can't trust anyone to keep their mouth shut, so we create non-disclosure and confidentiality agreements. It's not enough to keep doors closed; they have to be locked, bolted and security systems with cameras installed to keep people out. Even the hallowed wedding vows aren't spared, for pre-nuptial agreements must become a necessity in case people decide to jump ship. Evidently, 'until death do us part' doesn't mean much anymore.

    Truth is that which best describes things as they really are. The credibility or truthfulness of anything said to me is only as good as the trustworthiness of the person uttering it. And the trustworthiness of the person is only as good as their fundamental strength of character.

    And that is why I can and will believe in Jesus so much, with all the issues of the heart that I've been writing about on this blog, especially that which I've been thinking about in the last month. What He says is credible because He is trustworthy, and He is trustworthy because He has more than strong character; He is truth itself. That is why John, His beloved Apostle, describes Christ as "...glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1:14, ESV) in the opening verses of his Gospel. That is also why John, in the book of Revelation, introduces Him as "...Jesus Christ the faithful witness" (Revelation 1:5, ESV). He is faithful because He is trustworthy, and He is trustworthy because He is truth. That is why Christ can say of Himself, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father, except through me" (John 14:6, ESV). The evil behind a lie isn't some damage done against some person, society or nation's laws. It is the violation of the person of God, because He is truth and a lie is everything that He is not. Evil is more than an abstract term for hypothetical discussion around tables or fireplaces; it is that which rises up from within the human heart with the desire to be the God of God, and in the process turns a person into everything that God is not.

    The words of John 3:16 say that "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life." Christ did more than say "I love you." He proved the truthfulness of His Words with action - by dying on His Cross for the curse of my sin and resurrecting from His grave three days later, to break the curse of death that would have been my fate. My dear friend, may you find His forgiveness for your sin, His companionship in your loneliness, His fellowship in your suffering, His joy in your sorrow, His strength in your weakness, His transformation of your character and His promise of new and eternal life by the power of His Word and Spirit.

    I love my Christ because of who He is. Matthew Henry expressed it brilliantly when he said: "The greatest and best man in the world must say, By the grace of God I am what I am, but God says absolutely....I AM THAT I AM." God bless. See you soon.

- The Wisdom Seeker

Help, God. It Hurts.

"The heart knows its own bitterness, and no stranger shares its joy." (Proverbs 14:10)

    It's been a week since my last post, after searching for the reassurance of God's presence and comfort in "Is He There? Does He Care?". In the midst of significant changes in my own life, I learned some personal information about my friend Yeswanth's death that shook me. It profoundly altered my perspective on the grief of someone he has left behind, who is trying to come to terms with the fact that he is gone. It also brought my writing on this blog to a standstill as I tried to digest the implications of what I had heard and reflected on the crushing weight of this person's sorrow. I cannot even begin to comprehend what this individual has been feeling. It's been one of those bittersweet weeks where the words of Proverbs 14:13 became very much a reality: "Even in laughter the heart may ache, and the end of joy may be grief."

    There is something about the devastation of hopes and dreams that hits the heart unlike any other. That crushing sense of shock, tightness in the chest and accompanying dizziness in the head that feels as if everything is spinning. Or that sickening sensation in the stomach that feels like being in an elevator in free fall. Gone. Over. No Hope. Irreparable. Incurable. Terminal. Destroyed. Shattered. Finished. None of us want to face words like that when it comes to the deep desires and dreams that reside in our hearts - love, relationships, marriage, children, career, education, family, finances, projects, even ministry.

    Unrequited love. A relationship ended. A child that must be buried. A spouse betrayed and marriage devastated. Love's labour lost. Or perhaps a promising career or venture brought to a sudden end. The feeling always seems to be the same - something missing or permanently lost. A vacuum or hole in the heart and mind, and the accompanying grief in realizing that it is gone. Perhaps even regret at all the effort that went into the dream that is now reduced to ruins, being signed away on divorce papers, lying on a hospital bed, being lowered into a grave or burned on a funeral pyre. It all comes with very tangible sense of despair and inability to hope in the light of all that is happening at the moment. At times when that which we have loved and desired is being burned to the ground, it's not just that we can't grope for some measure of hope; it seems as if we don't even want to. As inevitable defeat seems to stare us in the face, the instinct is to crawl under the covers, lie down and die.

    As much as we like to think and pretend otherwise, the truth of the matter is that the human heart is extremely fragile and sensitive.

    Like those who hurt over his passing, I find myself deluged with questions on the matter. Why did this happen, God? I know that You have a purpose in everything You do, but situations like this are so hard to explain. Why did his time come when circumstances in his life were so promising? How will his family find hope? How will the person who longs for him pick up the pieces and keep moving on with life? Can You do something about their pain, God? Help, God. It hurts. Please heal their broken hearts. Please console and comfort them. Please save them. Please.

       It is in the midst of all these questions that I find my own heart turning to the Word of the only wise and true God, Who has carried me through my own moments of personal hurt and sorrow. I was reminded of chapter 25 in the book of Isaiah, titled "God Will Swallow Up Death Forever." Verses 6 to 9 read as follows:

    "On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined. And He will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of His people He will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken. It will be said on that day, 'Behold this is our God; we have waited for Him, that He might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for Him; let us be glad and rejoice in His salvation.'" (Isaiah 25:6-8, ESV)

    This prophesied defeat of the curse of death that hangs as a covering and veil over all people and nations was fulfilled 740-odd years after the life of Isaiah, in the crucified body of the Son of God that hung on His blood-drenched cross, and His resurrection three days later. In the final book of the Bible known as 'Revelation', John the Apostle is given a vision of the resurrected Christ such as He has never seen - hair white like wool or snow, eyes burning like fire, feet gleaming like polished bronze, a voice with a roar louder than an angry ocean, and a face "like the sun shining in full strength." (Revelation 1:13-16, ESV). Yet of all the opening lines that this terrifying persona could have chosen, I find it deeply moving that Christ speaks words of comfort to His beloved Apostle, of life on the other side of death: "Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades."

    Time and again throughout the Bible, God promises an appointed time to come when death will be no more, when this fallen and dying world will pass away and the creation of a "new heaven and a new earth" (Revelation 21:1). I find it interesting that in the entire Bible, there are only two places where life is recorded to be perfect. The opening two chapters of Genesis, the first book, record the beginning of time with creation and life with God before mankind sins through disobedience and is separated from Him; the final two chapters of Revelation, the last book, record the end of time with the 're-creation' of a new heaven and earth, and the words of God Himself in His promise of new life:

    "And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, no pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.' And He who was seated on the throne said, 'Behold, I am making all things new.' Also He said, 'Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.'" (Revelation 21:3-5, ESV).

    It is no gamble to put my trust in the only God who promises life and light on the other side of darkness. If you are sorrowing today, may you experience His powerful and comforting presence and put your faith in His promise of new life for you. See you in the next post.

- The Wisdom Seeker

    "For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in Him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day." (John 6:40, ESV)

    "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?" (John 11:25. ESV)

    "Because I live, you also will live." (John 14:19, ESV)

Is He There? Does He Care?

    There hasn't been a day that's gone by since I wrote "He's Dead. What Does That Mean?" that I don't think about my friend and what has become of him. I have thought about his family and the emotional devastation that follows when one's hopes and dreams die in fiery flames and one is powerless to intervene. I remembered the funeral of a little boy I had attended in India 6 years ago, and the sight of his mother sobbing her heart out in uncontained grief. And as I write this, I feel the twinge in my own heart as well.

    I had ended the last post contemplating the thread that ran through all the expressions of condolence, grief and sorrow - the implicit cry to God for answers, hope and comfort in all that people say and feel at such times. That's who I've turned to in the pages of my Bible, believing that He will answer. And it's been strange how events have come together over the last few days to help me write this post.

    I've thought a lot about Jesus during this time. The more I learn about this shattering personality that emerges from the pages of the Bible, of the God that walked among us clothed in humanity, the more I realize how little I have really known Him. One of the most frequent phrases used of Jesus is that of His compassion on the shattered lives that come pleading for help. Time and again, stories are recorded of Jesus' encounter with the blind, lame, deaf, mute, lonely, opressed, diseased and even the dead. And each time, there is a phrase along the lines "Jesus had compassion" (Matt. 9:36, 14:14, 15:32, Mark 1:41, 6:34, 8:2, Luke 7:13). In the English translation of the Bible, the word 'compassion' originates from the Latin stem 'compati', meaning 'to suffer with, to feel pity'. In the sense in which it is used of Jesus, it  means so much more than just supercharged sympathy that accompanies the tearful melodrama of tragedy, or maudlin emotion. It refers to a pity born of deep love that compels one to do something about the situation. In essence, the compassion of the Christ is the kind that says: "This is not right. And I'm going to do something about it." And there is one potent story that I turned to at this time. 

    In the book of John is recorded the story of Lazarus,  a friend whom Jesus raises from the dead (John 11:1-44). Listening to a sermon on this incident titled "Befriended" and delivered at my church in 2005, I was struck by the fact that Lazarus was dead by the time Jesus set out to go to him, that it was a four day walk (~150 km) for Jesus to get there. I reflected on the God that never gives up, who waits till the seemingly irreversible has happened, and then set out on the long, dusty walk through the Judean wilderness toward the one He loved and called 'friend'. The God who created the known universe by the words of his mouth (Psalm 33:6), but patiently endured the limitations of the human frame as He put one tired foot in front of the other for four days, even as the dust seeped through His sandals. The God who "spoke and it came to be", but showed the depths of His compassion in enduring the frustrations of walking speed, even as the friend He loved disintegrated in his tomb. The God in whose presence angels fall down and worship, and demons shiver, yet who "...was deeply moved in His spirit and greatly troubled" as He witnessed the grief and sorrow of inconsolable friends and family. The uncreated, self-sufficient God who needs nothing from anyone, yet of whom it is written "Jesus wept", as He who is infinite in power and multiplied in capacity was moved with emotion. The God who undertook this long journey to confront Death and shout at the top of His lungs: "Lazarus, come out!". And it is recorded that the undefeated terror that stalks all of humanity bowed in the presence of its Master, and gave Him back His friend.

    While roomates on campus in our second year of undergrad, Yeswanth and I had many conversations about God, karma, fate, destiny and many more. Somehow, as things went, we never got around to the topic of Jesus. I believe the Christ I follow is present in the midst of the sorrow and grief of those who are trying to come to terms with his passing.

Yes, I believe that He is there. And that He cares.

    I'm going to talk about why I believe that Christ offers hope that none else can in the next post. I have so much to write, but I'm going to stop here. To those who read this and weep because of the searing anguish in the heart that forces the tears out at the thought of a loved one that is gone: may you feel the presence of the God of all comfort. He does not need to undertake a four-day journey through wilderness to reach you. He is already there. He cares. See you soon.

- The Wisdom Seeker

He's Dead. What Does That Mean?

       Since my initial response to my friend Yeswanth's death in my last post "Death Came Calling...And Took My Friend", I've been thinking about the fact that he's gone. It was moving to read the expression of sorrow and loss from so many people on his Facebook wall, as I waded through my own thoughts on the matter. I suppose it was the sentiment expressed on Facebook that made me want to write about the implications of the feelings that hit us in the aftermath of death, on these occasions where we are suddenly confronted with the fragility of our bodies and the fleeting nature of our existence.

    There is a sense of incompleteness, a sudden void that seems to appear both in our sense of the little social bubble that we construct for ourselves and our hearts when someone we know is no longer there. It's especially felt when that person is someone we were very close to, as if a hole has been made in the wall or roof of a cozy "house" that we live in, and we suddenly feel the discomfort of not being sheltered from the uncertainties of the outside world. And I think that's why we experience the feeling of missing someone when they die - because they're the part of our carefully constructed "house" that's been damaged or taken away, and it's no longer a secure house anymore. I've never really thought of it like this before, but the sense came through so clearly as I read post after post on Yeswanth's wall that read along the lines of "I am at a loss for words and will miss you so badly...". I think there is a legitimate reason behind this feeling that hits us. I am convinced that it is God's gentle reminder to us that this world and life are transient and fleeting; as much as we crave constancy and security, we will never be able to construct a secure and lasting enough bubble for ourselves, as hard as we try.

    But there are also so many, many implications that follow once this realization sinks in, and I saw that expressed on his wall too. There is the sense of fear as the gap in our house reminds us of our own mortality, that we may at any minute encounter the event that stops our heartbeat, the breath in our lungs and hurl us into pitch darkness from which we will never return. There is the sense of finality, as we watch the body of the person taken to the crematorium or the burial ground. But even in the midst of this, we long for true peace and a place that we can truly call 'home', where there is real security. Why else do we write things like "RIP", "I'll see you on the other side", "Hope you're seeing this from Heaven", "You have reached your destination", etc? Once again, this reminds me of the post "Where Is Home?" that I wrote in 2009.

    Isn't it strange how the idea of a Godless, random world that arose by pure chance and completely explained by science doesn't seem all that appealing at times like this? I find no consolation in explanations of how Yeswanth will be broken down and recycled into the planet's cycles for organic matter. Or comfort in mourning the loss of his DNA from the gene pool of humanity, and the resulting impact on the variety and survivability of the human species. Atheism has no consolation to offer; for all our indulgence of Richard Dawkins' 'The God Delusion', The Selfish Gene' and the like, their explanations as to where Yeswanth is now, why friends miss him and his family is devastated are hollow and unsatisfying.

    What do I see in the words on his Facebook wall? That we recognize and value the individuality and intrinsic worth of the person called Yeswanth. That there must be something more to a human being than Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen and Nitrogen - a spirit, a soul. In the process, we implicitly admit that this was given to him by a source greater than ourselves and our world where change is the only constant. That's the only reason why people write about their prayers for him and his family. Ultimately in moments like this when the rubber meets the road, as much as we may sincerely mean words of condolence, it eventually boils down to only one word that offers any possible answer. The one word that offers consolation and hope of real security, the only word that keeps emerging from the background of everything that everyone is trying to say in all their shock and sorrow:

GOD.

    I believe that is who my friend is standing in front of and looking at now. But can God offer hope? What response can He give to all that we say and feel? I'm going to stop here for now and think about that for the next post. May you find your comfort in Him. God bless you.

- The Wisdom Seeker

Death Came Calling...And Took My Friend

    Since the New Year began, people close to me have experienced death in the passing on of their loved ones or are experiencing it now, as a loved one teeters on the brink between life and death. Barely a few hours after publishing my last post reflecting on the LOTR and our choice of what to do with our time here, I received an e-mail with a link to an online news article [1], bearing the news that death had come calling closer to home last week - and taken a friend.

Yeswanth in Sikkim, a province in India bordered by China, Nepal and Bhutan

    Yeswanth was my classmate during my Undergraduate years studying Engineering in India. He was also one of my assigned roomates while living ion campus during our second year. We had met in first year while living in separate rooms around the corner from each other - him in room 228, me in room 245. Tall, gentle and soft-spoken with a quiet smile and great sense of humour, he was very friendly and easy to get along with. I last saw him 6 years ago, after finishing one of the last exams of our Undergraduate degree - his in Electronics and Communication Engineering, mine in Electronics and Instrumentation. We chatted occasionally online over the years, but lost contact over time. The news article said that he had been killed in an automobile accident last Thursday, ten days after joining a division of Hewlett-Packard India in a major city as a Software Engineer. Rear-ended by a cement mixer truck while travelling in an autorickshaw (a motorized three-wheel taxi) on his morning commute to work, the collision crushed the autorickshaw between the  truck and a public transit bus in front of it. Neither Yeswanth or the driver stood a chance; they died instantly. The photo of the wreckage was barely recognizable; only the black and yellow paint with the remaining front tire and the white cement mixer in the background provided a clue of what it had once been.

Over in an instant: This is all that was left

    Yeswanth had just turned 27 years old when he died; his birthday was at the beginning of the year. The taxi driver was only 28 himself. Dead before the age of 30.

    Trying to process the shock of what I had just read, I visited his Facebook page. I don't know why. What I was hoping to find there? A wall post from him saying, "Hey everyone, I'm ok, it's just a joke!"? Instead, a flood of condolence messages posted on his wall from friends and co-workers hammered the finality of the fact home - Yeswanth was gone, and wasn't coming back. Reading some of the messages and dealing with my own feelings in the process, I thought I'd put some of my thoughts down here to help me think through things myself. I hope it'll help those who are aborbing it themselves, or trying to come to grips with it.

    My head seems to process the statement "Yeswanth died in a car accident" reasonably well. Six words, simple conept, not too much trouble, you'd think. But my heart rebels against this simplistic denial with a mental and emotional uproar that refuses to shut up. It can't understand the concept of 'gone'. Yeswanth's gone. Gone? What do you mean, gone? Gone where? Gone, as in permanently?! No, it's not possible! We chatted the other day. I just saw photos of him on Facebook and posts on his wall. How can someone suddenly disappear like that? Don't talk rubbish. Despite the reality of a world where death comes calling every day - in hospitals, homes, offices, automobile accidents, plane crashes, sinking ships, battlefields, warzones, murders, atrocities and all manner of ending human life, we seem to live in an automatic and oblivious denial, as if it could not possibly happen to us or those in our little social bubble. But when it does, we react with a shocked incredulity that would be comical, if the occasion were not so tragic. "OMG, how could he die?", we find ourselves asking, as if it were something unheard of in the universe.

    The denial only escalates knowing that he died so young. Somehow, we all live life with a natural and unconscious assumption that we are meant to die only at a ripe old age, after living a full life and experiencing every step along the way. I guess it's the natural optimism that God creates us with, that every couple who wants children have as they realize they're going to have a baby, and hold their new-born in their arms for the first time. No parent starts out envisioning that their pride and joy will unexpectedly die along the way, before they do. "No parent should have to bury their child", says King Theoden with sorrow in The Lord of The Rings: The Return of The King, as he watches his son's funeral procession. In that one sentence, he verbalizes our assumptions that there is a right way that life is to be lived. There is an instinctive retaliation against anything to the contrary, as if we have an awareness that this is not the way the world is supposed to be, not the way life is to be lived, not the way we are supposed to die. 

    But days after his passing, and the expression of sorrow by all who have known him that will have to give way to acceptance over time, there is a haunting question that refuses to go away, expressed indirectly on his Facebook wall:

Yeswanth is gone, but where? What happened to him? Where is he?

    As I write this, he is not the only one from my years in Undergrad that I think about. Roughly two years ago, I got a similar e-mail bearing the news that Terrin Jacob had driven home after a party having had too much to drink. He lost control of his car, crashed it into a wall and died on the way to hospital. He was from the class below me, and only 24 when he died.

 

Terrin Jacob as I remember him

    I think I need to stop here for this post and carefully digest all that's going through my head right now. I'll write more later. See you then.

- The Wisdom Seeker

REFERENCES:

  [1] Killer truckers Claim 5 Lives: 3 Accidents In 24 Hours

NOTE:

   This post was the first that led to a four-part series on life, death, purpose and realizations about all of them. The full series is listed below:

• Death Came Calling...And Took My Friend
• He's Dead. What Does That Mean?
• Is He There? Does He Care?
• Help, God. It Hurts.

"I Wish None Of This Had Happened."

Frodo and The Ring of Power (The Lord of The Rings: The Fellowship of The Ring)

     I don't know why circumstances in life keep reminding or bringing me back to my favourite movie. I guess there is so much in The Lord of The Rings that God uses to speak to me in a profound and powerful manner. With the train of thought that I've been developing since the beginning of the year, recalling something relevant from LOTR that spoke to me was inevitable. The brilliant soundtrack composed by Howard Shore that plays as I write this definitely adds fuel to the fire of inspiration!

    Among the many memorable moments in the first part of the trilogy, The Lord of The Rings: The Fellowship of The Ring, there was one in particular that riveted my attention the very first time I saw it in the theatres. It continues to do so every year at Christmas time, as I watch the trilogy as part of my annual tradition. Mind you, I watch only the Extended Edition!

    The approximate half-way mark finds Frodo, Sam, Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, Merry and Pippin trapped underground in the dark of the massive dwarf mine of Moria. Since discovering the true nature of the Ring towards the beginning of the story, Frodo has found himself running from the Shire with his friends, chased by the Ringwraiths first to Bree, and from there, all the way to Rivendell. Along the way, for the first time in his life he is thrust into a wild and unfamilar world fraught with danger, stabbed, endured cold, hunger, fear, sleepless nights and much more. The jouney has become only harder after leaving Rivendell, where he had assumed responsibility for the Ring as the Ringbearer, and begins to increasingly feel its weight on his spirit and the allure of its power. Now, chased into the dark of Moria and trapped in its terrifying gloom and silence with the rest of the Fellowship, Frodo sits next to Gandalf and begins to cry. And in that context comes this very potent scene.

The Fellowship of The Ring: Gandalf in the Dwarf mine of Moria

    "I wish the Ring had never come to me," says Frodo. "I wish that none of this had happened." There is a pause as Gandalf turns to look at him, his eyes filled with compassion and understanding of the burden that he would never have had the little Hobbit carry. "So do all who live to see such times", he says. "But that is not given to them to decide. What we must decide, is what we will do with the time that is given to us."

    That tiny exchange of two sentences is significant; it will return to influence Frodo's decision at a critical and pivotal moment towards the end of The Fellowship of The Ring, when both the quest and the Fellowship are on the verge of collapse. Time and again, as I watch the movie or in moments of reflection, it speaks volumes to me too.

    Like Frodo, I have a long list of "I wish" moments as I look back on my life. And I'm sure we all do - I wish I'd done better in school; I wish I'd studied harder; I wish I'd achieved more; I wish I'd listened to this advice, and hadn't listened to that advice; I wish I'd used my time better; I wish this friend had not hurt me; I wish that person had not abandoned me; I wish that painful moment had not happened; I wish someone loved me; I wish someone wanted me; I wish someone would take notice of all that I do; I wish people would treat me better; I wish I had treated people better; I wish I had been a better son/daughter/husband/wife/father/mother; I wish I had told that person I loved them; I wish I hadn't; I wish I hadn't said those hurtful words to that person; I wish I had trusted this person; I wish I hadn't trusted that person; I wish I wasn't a fool; I wish I had made this choice, or not made that choice; I wish...

    But time and again, in those rueful moments of regret, disappointment, sorrow and a myriad other sentiments, I am reminded of the transforming perspective of my God and Father, who would have me see differently. I am reminded that my life and times are in His hand, where in the words of His Apostle, "..that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28, ESV). I am reminded that through all my moments of regret, He works for my good and His glory, transforming me into the image of His Son and my Christ as He weaves the threads together into a brilliant tapestry that will outweigh all the tears and heartbreak that have gone into its making. I am reminded of His constant and abiding companionship through it all, brilliantly expressed by Psalm 139 and the writer of Hebrews: "I will never leave you nor forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5). I am reminded that He will comfort me in painful moments involving people and circumstances (2 Corinthians 1:3-4, Psalm 9:9). I am reminded that I will have courage inspite of my doubts, when I look at Him (Romans 10:17, 2 Corinthians 5:7, Hebrews 11:1). I am reminded that He will help me deal with my failures (Psalm 37:23-24, Proverbs 3:5-6) and through disappointments (Phillipians 4:6-7, Galatians 6:9). I am reminded of His consolation in times of heartbreak (1 Peter 5:6-7, Isaiah 43:2). There is not one wistful "I wish.." occasion of this life that is not transformed in perspective as we come to know the great God who bids us call Him "Father."

    Above all else, I am reminded through His Word and moments such as this, that He has given me a unique capacity as a human being - the power of choice. And as a child foreknown, predestined, called, justified, glorified (Romans 8:29) and guided by His Spirit, to use that choice wisely and differently, to decide what I will do with the time given to me by my Father. The power to choose love in the light of the sinner that I am, and sinful human beings whom I have hurt and hurt me in turn, in a fallen and broken world. The power to choose eternity, knowing my true Home waiting on the other side of death, "...looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God" (Hebrews 11:10). The power to choose the use of my time to tell the dying world around me that there is life offered to them freely, if only they will accept.

    I have to stop now. It's hard to believe so much came out of a little two-sentence exchange in a massive three-hour movie. It makes me feel like I have to watch it now, but I'll have to control myself until Christmastime comes again in...11 months. I guess the soundtrack will have to do until then. But for those reading, do take time to watch this awesome story. There will never ever be a movie made to equal them, in my opinion! That said, I want to leave you with this thought:

    It is not given to us to choose the difficult "I wish none of this had happened" moments of our lives. What will we do with the time that is given to us?

- The Wisdom Seeker

I had come across this poem in a talk given by Ravi Zacharias titled 'The Preparation and Portrait of a Prophet.' Thought I'd share it here. I think we can all identify with having gone through such experiences of pain, anguish and agony at some points in our lives, or maybe some of us might be experiencing it even now. I hope it speaks to you, if it happens to be such a time in your life.

When God Wants To Drill A Man

When God wants to drill a man,
And thrill a man
And skill a man

When God wants to mold a man
To play the noblest part,
When He yearns with all His heart
To create so great and bold a man
That all the world might be amazed,
Watch His methods, watch His ways.

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.

How He bends, but never breaks
When his good, He undertakes
How He uses, whom He chooses
And with mighty acts induces him
To try his splendor out,
God knows what He's about.

- Anonymous

I will write more on this in the coming days and weeks. Have a good week and God bless.

The Wisdom Seeker