It ain't over...

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It ain't over.Yet.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky on God's Love

Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1821-1881) is among the greatest men of letters Russia has ever produced and arguably, one of the greatest novelists of all time. He was also a devout Christian. He regarded the parable of the Prodigal Son as 'the most perfect gem in any literature' and wove it into most of his own novels, reminding the world of what the Gospel of Grace is all about.

I have recently started reading his final novel, The Brothers Karamazov regarded by many as his greatest work. Right in the beginning of the book, is this little scene that really moved me.

As the story goes, three brothers and their father go to see a renowned priest, who is the head of the monastery near their town, to seek his advice about a family matter. The holy man, Father Zossima, is regarded as a saint by the people and they come from all over the country to seek his advice and blessing. As the old man is very sick and ill, he does not have the strength to minister everyday, and pilgrims wait days for him to come out and bless them. The story describes one such eventful day when the Father goes out to listen to and pray for the people that have been eagerly waiting to see him. Among the crowd, is this woman. I'll let Dostoyevsky tell the rest:

'But the elder had already noticed in the crowd two glowing eyes fixed upon him. An exhausted, consumptive-looking, though young peasant woman was gazing at him in silence. Her eyes besought him, but she seemed afraid to approach.

“What is it, my child?”

“Absolve my soul, Father,” she articulated softly, and slowly sank on her knees and bowed down at his feet. “I have sinned, Father. I am afraid of my sin.”

The elder sat down on the lower step. The woman crept closer to him, still on her knees.

“I am a widow these three years,” she began in a half-whisper, with a sort of shudder. “I had a hard life with my husband. He was an old man. He used to beat me cruelly. He lay ill; I thought looking at him, if he were to get well, if he were to get up again, what then? And then the thought came to me—”

“Stay!” said the elder, and he put his ear close to her lips.

The woman went on in a low whisper, so that it was almost impossible to catch anything. She had soon done.

“Three years ago?” asked the elder.

“Three years. At first I didn't think about it, but now I've begun to be ill, and the thought never leaves me.”

“Have you come from far?”

“Over three hundred miles away.”

“Have you told it in confession?”

“I have confessed it. Twice I have confessed it.”

“Have you been admitted to Communion?”

“Yes. I am afraid. I am afraid to die.”

“Fear nothing and never be afraid; and don't fret. If only your penitence fail not, God will forgive all. There is no sin, and there [pg 051] can be no sin on all the earth, which the Lord will not forgive to the truly repentant! Man cannot commit a sin so great as to exhaust the infinite love of God. Can there be a sin which could exceed the love of God? Think only of repentance, continual repentance, but dismiss fear altogether. Believe that God loves you as you cannot conceive; that He loves you with your sin, in your sin. It has been said of old that over one repentant sinner there is more joy in heaven than over ten righteous men. Go, and fear not. Be not bitter against men. Be not angry if you are wronged. Forgive the dead man in your heart what wrong he did you. Be reconciled with him in truth. If you are penitent, you love. And if you love you are of God. All things are atoned for, all things are saved by love. If I, a sinner, even as you are, am tender with you and have pity on you, how much more will God. Love is such a priceless treasure that you can redeem the whole world by it, and expiate not only your own sins but the sins of others.”

He signed her three times with the cross, took from his own neck a little ikon and put it upon her. She bowed down to the earth without speaking. '

What a powerful illustration of God's Love.

The Bus Driver's Sermon

Dear bus driver,
I've been travelling up and down this country long enough to know the rules; you can't go wrong with time. If you are late for anything here i.e bus, train, or even an event, 99% of the time, you'll probably miss it. Today I missed my train; then when I finally caught the next one, I knew I was going to miss the coach I had booked a ticket on for the second leg to of my journey.So as soon as I got off the train, I ran and walked as fast as my legs could carry me to get to the bus station.I still missed the bus, I was devastated. Catching the next one would cost time and money, and a lot of it. I had a non-refundable ticket.
Then I had an idea. I decided to muster the courage to request you to let me board the next coach on my now invalid ticket. You were right when you replied I didn't deserve to go anywhere. I had lost my chance and I had booked a cheap ticket. I don't know what compelled you to let me on that bus.
I dont know what you call it, but for me, that was grace; an undeserved favour.
Maybe you do this everyday, but your little act of kindness today has had a great impact on me. I have been reminded what God's grace is all about.
We all try to follow the rules. We try hard to be good. And yet, even at our best we fall short, we fall, we sin and buses and trains leave without us. Opportunities are lost, we disrupt God's great plans for our lives. Our failures keep mounting. The law condemns us. We don't deserve second chances, especially when God knows all too well that he might have to give a million more before we even begin to get the point.
That's where His grace comes in and his love shines through. It didn't cost us anything, yet it cost him his son. We can't earn it, we can't pay it back. All we can do is to accept it with gratitude.If God had struck me dead the moment I sinned against him, I should have been dead long ago, many times over, in fact. I
thank God everyday for his seemingly endless shower of grace upon me. And dear sir, I want to thank you for dispensing grace today and reminding me of God's great love. Thank you for that sermon,its one of the best I've ever heard. Its impossible to bless others without being blessed yourself in the process; I have been showered by grace, I wish I could learn to shower it on others.

Our just so stories...

I love reading stories. They fascinate me, some are entertaining, some are thought provoking, some inspire and encourage, some challenge me, some just make me feel good, some disturb, some disgust and some I have regretted reading. Such is the nature of stories. They have certain powers attached to them...

The Bible is full of stories. At it's center is the greatest story ever told, it tells of how much God loves us humans; imperfect, stubborn, rebellious, sinful people, who never quite manage to even return a fraction of His love back,even at our greatest. Who let Him down over and over again, who never seem to get the point, and yet He never seems of stop showering us with grace...

And then there are sub-plots in this grand story. One of my favorite ones is how God changes a person's life. You read about ordinary people doing extraordinary things. You read about extraordinary people doing ordinary things and then you get to know some people who discover that God loved them in spite of what they did...The amazing stories of these people make the Bible believable. If the Bible depicted it's heroes like myths do, it would have been nothing more than a fairy tale. some fantasy world to aspire to. Just a mere good story.

But no; Bible heroes are ordinary, imperfect and flawed people like us. They show amazing faith and courage, but the times when they messed it all up is also recorded for us, lest we doubt them being real. You read about Abraham, father of nations, doubting the God he chose to follow, you see Moses, God's friend, take matters into his own hands, a man after God's heart, David, commits adultery and murder.. Fast forward to the New Testament and you read of the disciples full of doubt and scared to death even with Jesus at their side, then there's the Apostle Paul stoning Christians to death... the list goes on and on. It's amazing how God changes lives, and how he can use any of us, all of us,in fact. He doesn't look for the perfect ones, the clean record ones or the strongest ones, he only looks for the willing ones. Those that hunger and thirst for Him....

It always fascinates me when I come to know the story of someone I know whose life got transformed by God. You cannot help being amazed when you come to know that the pastor of your church had spent most of his youth in sex, drugs, alcohol and rock n roll; the really friendly lady at the welcome desk was sexually abused as a kid and had grown up in all sorts of pain and bitterness, that guy on the stage who confessed to having lost count of how many women he had slept with, the worship leader who used to be a drug addict; though some are more dramatic then others, every person has a story.

These people are proof of what God can do with a life. When I met them, I could never have looked at them and imagined the things they say they have done. Too many people think you have to be good to be accepted by God, that somehow Christians are a bunch of clean people, who have it all together. Here's a revelation for you all, if that were the case none of us would qualify, saints would have to be dethroned. We've all messed up at one time or the other. Our stories have dark corners. That's what God's love is all about, that's why these men and women go around calling him the Saviour, that's why they all have a story to tell.

Max Lucado wrote, in one of his books, that the best place to make important decisions in life is at a cemetary. I think he had a point there.
I've been wondering, I have been alive for a while now;lived, learned, loved, been places I could never have dreamed of, seen things, some good, some bad, and some I thought were just ordinary. Have meet a lot of people, loved some, did not love some, noticed some, ignored some, and many others were just faces in the crowd. And I've been asking myself the question: what difference does it make? What difference does me being here make? Have I made a difference in anybody's life? Or have I lived for myself all along?
I recently had the priveledge to listen to an amazing man. Travels all over Africa, preaching the gospel in villages, feeding the poor, caring for the sick, building houses and schools. He made a remarkable statement in a talk he gave. He said someone once asked him what he wanted written on his grave when he died. As in if the answer had been rehearsed many times before, he calmly and immediately replied,'Just write, HE DID IT'. I admire such people. I was awestruck. What an epitaph, No fancy words, no poetry, no praises for a virtuous life. Simple words. Not far off from what Jesus would have said. Infact, He did say something similar before he died on the cross. He said, 'It is finished'. I'm done. I did what I was here to do.
What about you dear readers? What about me, I ask myself? Time and tide wait for no one. Some people are busy finishing their assignment. Others have just gotten started. Majority spend their entire lifetime simply trying to figure out what it was that they were here for;when they do figure it out, it's just too late. Worst are the people, who can't be bothered. What purpose? I don't have one, they proudly proclaim. They have it coming. Where do I stand? I ask myself, dreading the answer. I don't want 'Lost the plot' written on my grave.....

Winter chills and snow storms

We go through life in a rush, always busy, sticking to routine, out of breath, running around from one thing to another. And then sometimes, God disrupts the schedule. He changes the lights to red, and causes us to come to a halt. The stop signs come in a variety of shapes and sizes, sometimes it's a lost job, sometimes it's sickness, sometimes it's the loss of a loved one, sometimes it's people, sometimes it's friends and family, and many a times, it's just a bad day. And occasionally God brings in nature. For me, it was Snow. And lots of it. It disrupts our daily life, brings cars and planes and people to a crippling stop. But it also changes our vision. Snow makes black things look white, the ordinary becomes beautiful, and the beautiful comes ordinary. We no longer admire the snow-covered car as beautiful, but we surely admire the trees in the back garden, that were there all along, but had never gotten our attention. The streets we cross everyday,the roads, the houses, the people, everything looks beautiful. Majestic. Sacred. Why? it's a change of lens, a different filtering of light, another perspective. Some coloured pictures look more elegant in black and white. And all stop signs are there for a purpose. They keep us safe. I thank God for the red lights He's placed in my life, (I might have ran over a lot of people without them; provided I didn't kill myself first), but sometimes I wonder wouldn't it be better if God didn't have to use a megaphone to get my attention? What if a gentle whisper was enough?