Archive for April, 2008

Less than perfect..

The end of April is almost here and like I had hoped my documents for my visa have been submitted. Now, All that’s left is the waiting before I hear from them. I don’t want to be at home for the next weekbecause I’m sure my parents won’t be able to talk about anything else. Thank God for church and responsibilities. If I’m keep myself occupied I wont be thinking about it much. I don’t want to think about it at all..

Our practices for youth camp are getting better. Shannon was sweet enough to help us out yesterday. I took him being the leader for granted.. It is such a difficult job and filling his shoes is pretty much the hardest thing I’ve ever come across. Four months from now I know I’m going to be grateful for everything that’s happening..But there’s still that nervousness and anxiety..

That’s when you turn to God and to his Grace.. In my weakness, his strength is perfected. I know I am fully able to go up on stage and ruin everything with the slightest amount of pride and self-dependence.
But weakness keeps me running back for more Grace. Grace- Divine Ability..that way, I know and everyone else knows it was God.

For once in my life I’m glad that I’m not perfect. But He is… And that’s all that matters.


Sipping on a nice cup of tea.. Its easy to forget everything around you and everything that you’re going through. I don’t know about anyone else.. But the last week has been one of frustrations and doubts and fears.. And a lot of negative talking and thinking.. Just not good. Not a good week. And as usual, instead of facing my fears and praying about them, I did what I always do. I slept. For one whole week, I slept. Somehow hoping that when i woke up, things would somehow be different.

But through this whole week, God’s faithfulness still stood out. He was still someone I could hold on to.

I’ve discovered a lot about myself this past week…
For instance, When I’m under a lot of pressure or if I’m nervous I will yell and snap at family and close friends. Do not take it personally. Its called Stress. Dont give me the whole silent treatment after.. it does not help.
If I’m nervous I babble a whole lot of nonsense.. which is why a lot of people have a strange view of me.
Its not my fault. You make me nervous.
And I also have this thing where I laugh inappropriately.. where I’m sitting in the first row right under the preacher’s nose and I let out these strange noises… Its so hard being me sometimes.

I need more practice on how to behave around real human beings.

The title doesnt make sense… but it supposed to tell you exactly what I feel right now. Its the perfect word!


Yesterday was the first meeting of our new “young” worship band. Shannon has dumped given us the entire responsibility of worship at the youth camp. And after the initial worrying and doubting and stress and frustration and praying, we met as a band for the first time yesterday. I have to say I was quite surprised. For people who’ve not really played together (some of us have) we sound really good. We have a lot to work on musically. but there’s no denying that those kids have talent! A lot of talent! And combine that with the anointing.. and BAM!!
The youth camp is going to be so fab!! If you are reading this and you stay nearby.. DO NOT MISS IT!

-very excited me!

The Room

17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. “I wowed ’em,” he later told his father, Bruce. “It’s a killer. It’s the bomb. It’s the best thing I ever
wrote..” It also was the last.

Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend’s house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.

The Moores framed a copy of Brian’s essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. “I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it,” Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son’s vision of life after death. “I’m happy for Brian. I know he’s in heaven. I know I’ll see him.”

Brian’s Essay: The Room…

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order.

But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I have liked.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content.

Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I have betrayed.” The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed at .” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve yelled at my brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger”, “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked “TV Shows I have watched”, I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew
that file represented.

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.

I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it.. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this
room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. “No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.” I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

*Thank you Ashwini for sending me this. I loved it*

For He so loved you.. that he gave up his whole world to come and take your place on the cross. So that you wouldn’t die as a direct consequence of your sin but that you might live in freedom forever..

He made a choice. Now its your turn. Make a choice today…
Live for him who died for you.


I don’t get it. I must be doing something right for all this to be happening. If I only I knew what it was. I’d keep doing it. Still doesn’t change the fact that i’m terrified. This is huge for me.
I struggle with leading worship in a small group of 10 people. God actually showing up during worship never ceases to amaze me. And now… more than 150 people. I’m not scared. I’m completely clueless. I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to go back into the reflex mode where I just run away and just not show up.
I also want to do this. I want to do this so bad. Its taken long enough to happen and I know its good coz’ it’ll help me grow and bring me closer to my calling.

Why is this so scary?

I have all these fears and questions in my head. I want to pray but somehow I know God’s not going to send those chariots to rapture me away…

Only one thing to do…  This time I’m depending on him. Completely. Fully dependent on him. I have nothing apart from God. I am nothing apart from God.

There. That should make things easier.

Somehow, God’s sense of humor is not making much sense these days.

Summer’s here…

and so are the mangoes.

Wow. I dont have much to say after that. 😛 I can talk about nothing for hours..but when it comes to writing a post. Ah well..

Lets just stick to keeping it random.. I can do that. Not too hard. Here goes…

I haven’t read a book in months. I dont even remember the last book I read. I love being taken completely captive by a book.. when its the only thing I talk about for days. Thats what TV does to you. Steals time that’s meant for books. Bad TV! BAD BAD TV!

I would’ve gone over to the mall to sit at landmark for a couple of hours just to read. But I meet too many people and I’m usually not in the mood to be nice and talk about what I’m up to. I don’t think “I wake up, eat, sit online and sleep” make up for interesting conversation.
Especially when a lot of people are so curious about WHY I don’t have a job!
Heck, If I knew I would’ve done something about it!
And then the comments about my hair… let me just say it once and for all. I know I paid a lot to get this done. You don’t have to make that scary face at me when I tell you. The one that makes you look like a toad.
I know that some of you think that my hair looked better before.. but let’s see.. I’m not married to you nor am I dating you. You’re not even my mom. Do you think I really care about your opinion??

Ok fine.. I do! So just be nice to me and keep all your “real and honest” opinions to yourself! Is that too much to ask for?!

Anyway, I have had a pretty crazy weekend. I feel completely drained. Its weird coz’ even though I’m at home I have such a full life.There is just So much to do. But exciting exciting times. God’s on the move. He’s raising up an army and I’m just amazed that I’m a part of it.
I can’t believe that when things are getting so exciting I have to pack up and leave.
I wonder what God has in mind.

Where He leads I will go.
But we have a deal.. I am coming back. I’m Indian. I will always be Indian. I want to be Indian in India!

I’m not sure that made sense..

as I was saying…  Summer’s here..

and so is the madness!

The problem

I’ve been thinking about relationships. About how you form so many of them in the course of life… and how eventually, there are very few that remain. Over the years I’ve seen people that I thought would be around forever are not around anymore. Either I left or they did.
I thought that maybe I understood why but honestly I dont.

I want all of them back. I want things the way it used to be.

maybe that’s my problem… I live in the past most of the time.
its hard to move on. I hold on to the familiar, the usual, the common, the known. I don’t like stepping out into unfamiliar waters. I can walk into a restaurant every day for a year and order the exact same thing. Every single day. I dont like experimenting with food.

I dont like experimenting with relationships.

I just want everything to be … normal.. again. Whatever that means.

“…once we grow up, learn our words and really start talking; the harder it becomes to know what to say or how to ask for what we really need…”Meredith Grey, Grey’s Anatomy

The Word says

“The spirit of the Lord is upon Me,
Because He has anointed Me
To preach good tidings to the poor;
He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives,
And the opening of the prison to those who are bound;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord,
And the day of the vengeance of our God;
To comfort all those who mourn
To console all those who mourn in Zion

To give them beauty for ashes,
the Oil of Joy for mourning
The Garment of Praise for the Spirit of heaviness
That they may be called trees of
The planting of the Lord, that He may glorified.”

-Isaiah 61:1-3

– Be careful what you pray for. When you say “God, Push me out into deep waters so that I’ll learn to swim” don’t be shocked when He takes that prayer seriously… often sooner than you imagined.

– You CAN do all things through Christ who strengthens you! Why was that so debatable before?!

– Not by might or  power *or talent* but by the Spirit of God.

– People actually believe in you. They may not say all the time but they do!

– The next five months are going to be more extraordinary than anything you’ve ever imagined. Sit back and enjoy the ride.