Saturday, 24 December 2011

Season of Joy!




It’s Christmas Eve!Yay!Shopping  for the last gift or two, preparing for a glorious feast,carol singing, making sure your new  clothes are perfect for the early morning service,adding final touches to the christmas tree,a star dangling from the porch,christmas 'parties',over-the-top festive mood setting in…..Ah!the joys of the Christmas season! No wonder it's called  ‘the season of joy'.Wait a sec.Did I just say ‘joy’? 

A few thousand years ago,it was on  a cold winter's night as this when a young girl,in her late teens,was told by heaven’s special agent,Gabriel,about a son she was going to bear who  would be the Savior of the whole world!Great news right? Well...Considering that Mary was a virgin pledged to be married to a well-respected man in the society,becoming pregnant at that point of time,was not exactly great news to her.She would become the laughing stock of town,a social outcast,she'd have to face the threats of a broken engagement and worse,she'd even be termed as a prostitute.She had every reason to be unhappy about.But you know what she said?

 "My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior"(Luke 1:46,47).

Honestly,I admire this woman.She did not look at her circumstances but rejoiced at the fact that God had chosen her ,a mere carpenter’s wife-to-be, to bear the Savior of the world.God was to become man,an event that was to bring hope to a hopeless world and change the course of history and Mary was instrumental.


Recently, I was asked what Christmas meant to me personally.To me,Christmas is a time of thanksgiving-thanking God for the gift of His Son,for choosing me to be a part of His big family,for giving me the hope of an eternal life and simply knowing that I have Someone  who loves me dearly and this is the reason that I rejoice at His birth.To those of you out there,missing your loved one at Christmas like me or wondering how to spend the day alone,take heart!A silent prayer with a heart full of gratitude to the One who became man to save you and me is a celebration in itself!My circumstances don’t have to give me a reason to rejoice but knowing that my Lord’s birth has given you and me a new life has to! All of the superficial things that accompany the season-Santa,parties,lights,decorations-they can leave you all the more empty if you miss out on the Reason for the season.The real joy comes from knowing this Saviour.Do you 'know' Him?

Wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Blessed new year 2012!

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Refined as gold!

It was a dull, gray morning with dark clouds  hovering in the sky .Heavy rains the night before had wet the roads considerably leaving small puddles everywhere.Weather is never a concern to us Indians on a special day and that day being Diwali(a Hindu festival known not only for lights and lamps and firecrackers,but also for some mouth watering delights)young chaps were cheerfully bursting firecrackers and shooting rockets into the sky despite the raw weather.We were headed to a friend's place (Dad's friend actually) in Madurai.Having the car parked by the roadside,a careful and a rather slow walk down a narrow street led us to smiling faces that greeted us at the door and a warm welcome was given by the friend's whole family.'Diwali' translates to sweets and so we were hoarded with a variety of homemade snacks.I was seated on the floor and my gaze wandered around the small living room when I was drawn to some unfamiliar tools and small machinery lying around in a corner.I went closer to have a better look.Noticing my curiosity,the friend's Dad proudly introduced himself as a goldsmith. He worked at home and his workplace occupied a part of the living room.Amidst the cluttered space,something caught my attention.It was the refiner's fire.I had never met a goldsmith nor had I seen a refiner's fire and so I immediately clicked a picture of it. Before I could ask him any questions,the goldsmith hurried inside and brought out a fabulous necklace that he had made for his daughter.The necklace was crafted in intricate designs and exhibited excellent craftsmanship.It was adorned with rubies,emerald and diamond.It sure was worth a lot of money!



Refiner's fire!
Unfortunately the picture I clicked wasn't clear enough... so this is from the worldwide web:)

That got me thinking.Refiner's fire.It can be the most uncomfortable place for gold.It has to withstand the intense of the heat until it conforms into the desired shape of its maker.Isn't that so true with us too?God wants to conform us into the image of His Son, to purify our faith, but it comes as by fire, the refiners fire.It is indeed miserable and lonely when we have to walk through it but once we are out of it,we are made into the perfect design intended for us by  the Maker.


We have a role to play in the process as well.When trials come our way we can either grumble,complain,express bitterness towards God and others or we can thank Him and allow Him to mould us in the way he wants us to be...and the latter requires TRUST-a complete trust and total surrender to the Goldsmith. He's right there all along,his eyes steadily fixed on the furnace and on ME! He makes sure that I come out refined as gold and fulfill the purpose for which He's made me!I just gotta hang in there because He's refining me and its gonna be over soon!

"I owe more to my Lord's fire, hammer and file than to anything else in His workshop. Sometimes I wonder if I have ever learned anything except at the end of God's rod. When my classroom is darkest, I see best."-Charles Spurgeon


"These have come so that your faith--of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire--may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."I Peter 1:7






Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Missing you!


Dear Ragil,

We had to carry some heavy stuff to the neighbor's house today
Dad couldn't do it ,nor could Mom but I managed to carry it to the car.
Hardly had we driven a few metres down the street when the car broke down.
Dad took over the wheel while Mom and I had to push the car back into the garage.
Beneath all  the huffing and puffing there was  a wish untold
My hands and feet still hurt and my heart even more
When I wished with all my heart that you were here to carry it for me.
You were always there when we needed you and gladly shared our burden
As mom often said ,I miss those strong 'Hands of Iron'
And that innocent heart of yours.

When Dad commented on my driving skills today,
"I imparted it from Ragil",I said,beaming with pride 
And wished you were here to see me drive!

The refrigerator,filled with delicious candies and cake
And all that you loved kindly beckons,
Unaware that there is none to gobble them all up.

I know I've screamed at you countless times for your untidy room
But now I miss cleaning that mess and putting your things away!
An eerie silence awaits me when I come home each day 
And Oh!how I miss your laughter and the music!
I miss the times we'd  spent singing together 
And I don't remember the last time I sang from deep within.
Your guitar lies broken and untouched in a corner 
And when asked about it by guests who visit often,
I proudly reply,'That's MY brother's!'
I know I've never told you this
But You've made us proud indeed!

It's been exactly a year,4 months and 7 days since you left us
And everyone thinks we've moved on.But how can we?
You were a part of us,of every fiber of our being
And we truly miss you..every moment of every single day!
I often see Mom weeping and Dad quietly shedding a tear 
While my silent cry is  locked up within. 
But deep down,I know you're up there watching and listening.
You are not forgotten loved one,nor will you ever be,
As we await the glorious reunion when we will meet thee!

Forever with Love,
Lynn


Monday, 17 October 2011

Elections and Me!


India is the largest democracy in the world-a government of the people, by the people and for the people....or so they say.Today is the day of our Tamilnadu local body elections and in a few minutes,I'll be off to the polling booth.The last month has witnessed politicians toiling from dawn till dusk rallying,organising party meetings,and basically spending crores of money.Contesting candidates for elections have paid frequent visits to EVERY house in the area I live or simply put, went door to door canvassing.Although certain methods of campaigning are agreeable and justifiable,there were other methods adopted that were completely illegal.

Every election has seen money flow in the way of bribe and this election is no different. Unjustifiable and illegal expenditure in the form of money paid to the poorer sections of the electorate for voting in favour of a particular candidate has assumed alarming proportions.Cash amounts varying from 300-1500 rupees were distributed to woo voters.Funny thing was that there were many people getting money from all the parties!I wonder where all the money came from.Apart from cash, freebies were also given which included towels,shawls,biriyani packets and even alchohol!There were some who adopted weird methods of canvassing.One candidate went literally crying from house to house and begging for votes and a few came in asking to be prayed for,hoping atleast Divine intervention would get them through!...or was it to show off their  religiosity  and thus their honesty?(Ha ha..nice try guys!).The most annoying of all was the loud speaker announcements in autos (obviously every occupant in the auto was paid!).Not one guy who came along came with promises of proper sanitation,waste disposal,street lighting or even proper roads.

It is indeed very difficult to decide who to vote for and I don't think my vote is going to make a huge difference.Is there something I could do to help the country as an individual? Yes.I honestly believe that corruption can be eliminated if we as individuals vow not to accept or give bribes regardless of the consequences rather than blaming it all on the politicians.I cannot change the world but I can sure make a difference in my immediate society and my own sphere of influence.

There is yet another thing I can do.1 Timothy 2 says,"I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people— for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness".Shouting fom the rooftops ain't gonna change politicians but a sincere prayer for them can!

Happy voting everyone!



Friday, 14 October 2011

A few good men!


The other day I was commenting on how gentlemanly the gesture was when my dad served mom coffee at the restaurant.'Gentlemanly' is an adjective that can describe very rare men these days.These kind of men usually go unnoticed in a crowd but become the most admired once noticed.Coincidentally that week,I was reading  the book of Ruth, a story that revolves around a young widow named Ruth,when a man in the book grabbed  my attention -Yup...you're right-it was Boaz.Boaz was the son of Salmon and Rahab,the prostitute(She WAS a prostitute until she decided to be a part of God's people and identify with them)and one of the finest examples of a godly gentleman. Here are a few qualities of Boaz that made me his instant admirer-

Boaz-the boss
Boaz,being a wealthy landlord,in the second chapter of Ruth,enters the grainfield he owned and greets the harvestors with the words,“The LORD be with you!” and they answer,“The LORD bless you!”.I can see their smiling faces in response.Can you imagine that exchange of greeting taking place on shop floors or in offices today?Treating co-workers,subordinates even cleaning people with respect and courtesy is the trademark quality of a gentleman and a trait so vividly displayed in Boaz.

Boaz also took notice of a young woman at the fields and after inquiring about her,orders the men not to trouble her but offer her all the help they can.Note the conversation of Boaz with Ruth during mealtime as he wishes for her recompense from the Lord.The warmth of Boaz's reception is heightened by his sharing of food with her and even serving her.He was a man who truly respected a woman!




Boaz was a man of integrity too.As Ruth continues to glean in Boaz’s field, Naomi(Ruth's mother-in-law) plans to appeal to Boaz as the kinsman-redeemer(and thus marry her).When the appeal is made,Boaz tells Ruth that there is  a closer relative who can redeem her.He could've taken advantage of the situation or agreed to marry her immediately after the request was made.But he chose to abide by God's law and do the right thing. You see,he thought with his head,not with his heart.True character acts rightly,whether in secret or in the sight of men.I can imagine Ruth's fluttering heart and her butterfly-infested stomach as she awaited the decision of the closer relative the next day!Thankfully,the other man refused and Ruth was free to marry Boaz! A Divine plan at work,I would say.

Noteworthy throughout this story is the character of Boaz. A hospitable man, with a concern for duty and reputation. A kind man, with a strong sense of propriety.More importantly,a man who put God above his girl!And this was the man who turned out to be the great great grandfather of JC!

God needs these kind of men to build his kingdom-men of character,men of honor, good men who can be summed up in the lyrics of this song by the Gaither Vocal band:

A few Good men
What this dying world could use is a willing Man of God
Who dares to go against the grain and works without applause;
A man who'll raise the shield of Faith, protecting what is pure;
Whose love is tough and gentle; a man whose word is sure.
God doesn't need an Orator who knows what just to say;
He doesn't need authorities to reason Him away;
He doesn't need an army to guarantee a win;
He just needs a Few Good Men.

Men full of Compassion, who Laugh and Love and Cry-
Men who'll face Eternity and aren't afraid to die-
Men who'll fight for Freedom and Honor once again-
He just needs a Few Good Men.

He calls the broken derelict whose life has been renewed;
He calls the one who has the strength to stand up for the Truth.
Enlistment lines are open and He wants you to come in-
He just needs a Few Good Men.













Thursday, 6 October 2011

Celebrating 20 years of God's faithfulness!

Last Sunday, we celebrated the 20th anniversary of our Sunday school. Unlike other Sunday schools, this one is not part of any church; rather, a kids church by itself that was established twenty years ago with the sole purpose of reaching kids in the neighborhood with the gospel of JC.
It was in November, 1991 when a young school teacher decided to teach the Bible to the kids who attended her tuition classes. A few students turned up on Sunday afternoons and soon some of their friends tagged along. The class was held in the verandah of her house and sometimes under shady trees. A few years later, after she left, the Sunday school was shifted to a house in a street called ‘Brindavan Nagar’ and hence named ‘Brindavan Sunday School’, BSS ,in short.
I started attending BSS when I was 6 or 7 years old. The minute the clock struck three on Sunday afternoons, my brother and I, along with a few other friends ,with our bibles in hand, would start off and usually would be the first ones to reach. Sunday school was something that we always looked forward to in the week.It was more than just the songs,stories and skits that attracted us …We enjoyed  a time of fellowship, practicing for inter-Sunday school competitions, and of course the best time of the year-Christmas!It was a place where we made friends for a lifetime.
Fifteen years later, as I look back on those days, I can only stand in awe of all that the Lord has done in me and in the lives of others who had attended.Yes,this Sunday school has had  a humble beginning but it was this little sunday school that God had used to touch, heal and shape lives.God’s been faithful all these years and the ministry has come a long way. Now, I teach in the same Sunday school and Oh! What a privilege it is! Thank God for BSS!

"The least of you will become a thousand, the smallest a mighty nation. I am the LORD; in its time I will do this swiftly." Isaiah 60:22
Below are a few pics of the exhibition the kids put up for the celebration of the 20 years  and it indeed was a joy to see them bring out their creativity and use their talents for God!
PS: Many of the children who attend are from the BPL group but a bunch of enthusiastic, cheerful kids and I just love being around them!
 Rangoli done by my friend who is a SS teacher and shares lovely sunday school memories with me:)

Juniors-Efforts appreciated!


Class Primary



Senior class



For more pics and videos,visit our facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Brindavan-Sunday-School/109658222432157


Saturday, 24 September 2011

Happy birthday Ma!

(Yesterday was my Mom's 51st birthday and this post is dedicated to her.I wrote this exactly a year ago for her 50th birthday)


I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life. ~Abraham Lincoln


If you have a mom, there is nowhere you are likely to go where a prayer has not already been.  ~Robert Braul


I call her 'Amma ‘ and my brother called her ‘Me’(Short for mummy).In my 22 years of life’s journey with my Mom I can say SHE is no ordinary woman!Well,Its her 50th birthday today(Sep 23,2010)and I am so proud she is mine!!


Life has never been easy for her and I still wonder how she managed the house, ministry and the family simultaneously.A typical day for her  would begin like this-She would wake up at 4.00am and spend her quiet time with the Lord till 6 am..family prayer till 6.30(which means that we can never stay in bed after 6!)and then off she'd go to the kitchen(She is an excellent cook by the way!). By 7.15 breakfast and lunch would be ready on the table and after making sure that we've had our breakfast and have taken our lunch she'd rush to work at 8! As soon as she came home from work she would run to the slums in the area to take Sunday school for the kids there/conduct a prayer meeting. She would return home and make us dinner and our family time is the one thing that I’ve always enjoyed and that would sometimes extend after midnight! The nights she spent with us when we were younger  telling us amazing stories from the Bible is still so vivid in my memory.She definitely was and still is a great story teller! She works tirelessly from dawn till dusk ,making sure everyone is loved and cared for! Amazing woman!Ain’t she??



She’s not only my biological mother but also my spiritual mother (To my brother and dad too!). She loves the Lord with all her heart and lives out her faith. She forgives quickly ,never holds a grudge and I just love listening to her stories of faith even though I have heard it a million times before!I wonder how many are blessed with godly and loving parents.I sure am!The tears ,the prayers,the energy and the effort that she put into bringing us up did bear fruit . She raised her family differently and  the difference  that she raised us  with was Christ.All that was said in Ragil’s funeral(my only brother of 24 yrs who passed away unexpectedly in an accident) is evidence.She always wanted her kids to be firebrands for the Lord.She is my critic ,my greatest teacher ,a source of inspiration and  blessing not only to me but to everyone who has come her way!!


At 48,she responded to God’s call for full time ministry and God has blessed her ministry in leaps and bounds.I admire her oratory and writing skills-skills that have been used by God to touch the lives of many!It’s been 3 months since Ragi left us to be with the Lord and her faith has strengthened all of us through these difficult times. If Ragi was here he would definitely agree with all that I've said.I can go on and on but words just can't contain her. She is indeed an ideal mother that every daughter could be proud of and look up to.I only wish and pray that God may grant her many more birthdays and use her mightily for His glory.Happy happy birthday ma!Luv you!!


''Her children arise and call her blessed;  her husband also, he praises her:
 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;   but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised''. Proverbs 31:28,30

Thursday, 15 September 2011

31 girl!

'Paapaa!!!Start some serious exercising..you're putting on too much of weight!",'Don't sleep in the afternoons!","I am going to put you on a diet from now on"(which by the way meant only oats for dinner and no rice!) -These were pieces of advice(accompanied by a loud,commanding voice)offered by my well-meaning Mom who,of recent,has become overly concerned about my weight!

We live in an era where immense care is taken to beautify one's looks.Every girl dreams for a  beautiful skin,shiny and flowing hair(like they show in the ads)and longs to look like Aishwarya Rai-thanks to the booming cosmetic industry that's come a long way in fulfilling this dream with its products,advertising and marketing strategies!Indians ,especially, are so obsessed with fairness,that no amount of fairness creams would suffice their cravings for a white skin.Not to mention the fact that the biodata of every Indian boy seeking marriage would contain something like this-'Expectations-white/fair,tall and slim girl'..Funny how we Indians seem to conjure up with ‘white’ to ‘black’ within the color brown.I agree that it is important that we look presentable and well groomed but most of the times it is overdone and the simple fact that beauty is only skin deep is completely forgotten.


The Bible,in Proverbs 31,talks about a woman of noble character.

A wife of noble character who can find?
   She is worth far more than rubies.
26 She speaks with wisdom,
   and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
   her husband also, and he praises her:
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
   but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

How very true! A woman of noble character is hardworking,kind,gentle,wise,strong,honest,trustworthy and covered in love.True beauty is not on the outside..its on the inside -the only place that matters to God..Someone whose writings I admire blogged this -'God's idea of beauty is so far removed from ours for He looks directly into the heart. He seeks selfless hands calloused with helping others constantly, tired feet cracked with travelling miles out of the way for someone else, eyes reddened with tears for a neighbour's pain and lips worn with speaking words of comfort to those who need it. Every laugh line that came from making a saddened heart smile and every wrinkle that came from worrying for a friend's sake are precious in the Lord's sight. To Him, that is true beauty...the beauty of the soul inside the shell. Don't waste your time then on superficiality 'cos honestly, God doesn't care whether or not you permed your hair lately.'

So,girls,let's work on true beauty -Beauty that honours God - beauty portrayed by the woman in Proverbs 31-THE 31 GIRL!


Sunday, 11 September 2011

A Thankful Heart!


"Every single cell in my body is happy
 Every single cell in my body is good
 Thank you Lord!I feel so good
 Cos every single cell in my body is well!"

This song,that I learnt as a kid,kept ringing in my head today as I walked through the corridors of the rehabilitation centre in the hospital nearby.I had accompanied my mom who conducted weekly services for the patients.Many,old and young alike, had turned up in the small, beautiful chapel,some on stretchers and some in wheel chairs in a desperate attempt to find God and plead with Him for a miracle.They had no other hope.Paralysis,caused by trauma or spinal cord injury had rendered them incapable of walking , attending to their daily duties, sitting up and had even deprived them of their ability to feel .They needed assistance for everything..and I mean EVERYTHING!!I could do nothing but sympathize with them.Having made a short and silent prayer,I quickly left the place with a heavy heart but with a whole lot  of things to ponder on.


I looked at my own fully functional hands and feet.How many times have I complained when I had to walk home..or the times when I felt physical pain..or when the bed was not comfortable enough to sleep in? There've been times when I've taken so many things in life for granted....Did you know that just a stroll through the hospital corridors can put all of life in perspective?The very fact that I'm alive and well today gives me reason enough to thank God!I am indeed thankful for every single cell in my body that is happy,well and good!What are you thankful for today?


If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice. ~Meister Eckhart


Need more reasons to be thankful? Check out this video :




Saturday, 3 September 2011

The Last enemy!

There's nothing certain in a man's life except this: That he must lose it. ~Aeschylus, Agamemnon

True enough..Death is inevitable and we all know that someday we will surely die,but just that it's not today or tomorrow....maybe when we are 80 or 90 years old..definitely not when we are YOUNG!Nevertheless,fact remains that life's clock never asks you when to stop.Accidents,incurable diseases,and ever increasing crime rates are so rampant in today's world that you never know when your time's up.This week I was quite disturbed when I heard the demise of two young people I knew.One of them was my exceptionally intelligent classmate I had known for three years whom I had always thought would make it big someday.He had decided to end his life.The other was a young medical student who had given up her fight against a dreadful disease.Two deaths in a week..that too of young intellectuals..Sometimes life doesn't make sense and seems so unfair!

Recovering from the tragic and unexpected loss of my own brother,I know the pain and all that goes with the loss of a loved one.But hang on....There's more to death than just grief.As a Christian,I know that all who believe in Jesus Christ enter a life of eternity  with Him -A life devoid of pain,suffering and sorrow.And that we will soon meet our loved ones on the other side.That,indeed,is comforting!

However,there still remains two questions to be answered.As an individual,am I prepared to face death ANYTIME? I don't have to live in fear of death.Death is certain and can be sudden.To a christian,it is just the passing from one life to another-a new one.Two,What am I striving to accomplish in life? My knowledge,my wealth,my ego,my status..none of it is going to come with me when I'm laid to rest...Am I fulfilling the purpose that my Creator has set for me? I have a sincere answer to these questions.Do you?

Always be thou prepared, and so live that death may never find thee unprepared.
  -THOMAS A. KEMPIS, The Imitation of Christ

Sunday, 28 August 2011

The Three knocks in the night-PART II



It was late at night and Ida was in her room  reading a letter from her friend  when she  heard  a discreet cough from the verandah. She opened the door and  a young Indian stood there,tall and grave and dignified. Even if she had not recognized him as one of the town’s leading Brahmins, she would have known he belonged to this highest priestly caste by his dress.
“What is it?”asked Ida."Can I do anything for you?”
So agitated was the young man that when he lifted his hands in a gesture of greeting she could see that they were trembling.
“Oh,yes ammal!”The voice too,well modulated and speaking in cultured English ,was unsteady."I desperately need your help. My wife, a young girl of 14, is dying in childbirth. The barber woman can do nothing for her and says she must die. And, ammal, she is such  a lovely girl! I heard that you had come to India from America and thought you might help her.”
“Oh!”exclaimed Ida in swift sympathy."I’m so sorry .But it’s my father you want, not I .He’s the doctor. He’s right next door in his study. Come, I’ll take you to him.”About to lead the way, she found passage to the verandah blocked by  a shape as unyielding as one of its square white posts. The anxious young husband had vanished. In his place stood a haughty  and outraged Brahmin.
“What! Take  a man into my house to care for my wife? No man other than those of her family has ever looked upon her. You don’t know what you say!”

“B-but”, stammered Ida,” surely ,to –to save her life-"

“It is better that she should die," returned the young man, “than that another man should look on her face.”

Ida stared at him."You- you can’t mean that." But she could see that he did. She tried again."I’ll go with my father", she promised."He’ll tell me just what to do, and I’ll do it. He wouldn’t even have to touch her.”

The young man turned without answering and started away."Wait!"cried Ida."Don’t go yet –please!"She had to find a way to stop him."You-you said she was young and beautiful. And she’s suffering, maybe even dying. You said so yourself. Don’t you-don’t you care?”

The young Brahmin turned-“Then you will not come ammal?”His eyes looked out at her through the mask, tortured and somehow accusing.She shook her head miserably."It would do no good .I-I don’t know anything. I’d be no better than-than  the barber’s wife."Nor as good, she added to herself silently. For, crude and unsanitary though they might be ,the barber woman ,traditional midwife,had her instruments and her techniques. She had nothing.She watched him turn away and go down the steps, into the darkness."Why?" she demanded fiercely, turning to her father."Why?"

He patted her shoulder."Because," he said gently, “it’s the rule, the custom.It would violate the caste law.”
"Custom –law-"She choked on the words.But always before, she understood suddenly, these had seemed quaint and at times amusing customs, not-not matters of life and death.

“Our friend,” comforted her father, “is  a deeply religious man. We must respect him for it.”
“Respect!”She backed away from him,eyes flashing."When he’s letting her suffer, maybe die,a-a girl not much more than  a child!”
“Perhaps,”said Dr.John gently “he’s sacrificing more for his conviction than we are for ours.He looked to me as if he really loves his little wife.Go back to your room now ,child, and forget it.”
"Forget-"
“Yes. It’s a lesson I learned long ago. If I hadn’t I couldn’t have borne it to live in a country where there is so much suffering and despair. If there is nothing you can do to remedy a bad matter ,it’s the part of wisdom to forget it.”

Ida went back to her room .Her father was right,ofcourse.If there was nothing you could do ,it was better to forget.She began writing furiously,telling Annie,her friend,all the reasons she could think of for not wanting to live in India and not wanting to be a missionary. Her pen fairly flew over her pages.

When the sound of footsteps came again,she sprang up to her feet.Perhaps the young Brahmin had changed his mind and had come back for her father.

“I thought you’d come back”,she began eagerly,before the figure in the shadows had  a chance to speak."I was sure you really cared-"
She stopped abruptly.It was not the young Brahmin.
"Salaam Madam.May Allah give you peace.If you could help me-"
The voice was hesitant ,diffident,the face of a dark blur between the long tightly buttoned coat and the white brocaded cap .
“Of course”,said Ida automatically."What can I do for you,sir?"
"It’s my wife ",said the man gently."She has had other children ,but this time the little one does not come. There is no one to help her but an ignorant ,untrained woman.I am afraid she is dying .Please forgive me for troubling you."
Ida could not believe her ears.It was just in stories that such coincidences occurred, not in real life.

“I have heard there is a doctor here”, he continued hesitantly, “one not long since come from America.”
“Oh,yes!”Ida’s dismay evaporated. God was being good.He was giving them a chance to make up for failing the little 14 year old girl. If one must die, another should live. This man was a Muslim.He would be bound by no laws of caste."Wait!" she told him impetuously, brushing past him and running along the verandah.

"Here’s my father",she explained breathlessly, returning a moment later with Dr.John."He’s the doctor you are looking for. But if you like, I’ll be glad to go with him and help."
“Madam, you do not understand our ways. Only the men of her immediate family even enter a Muslim women’s apartment. It is you, a woman, whose help I came seeking, not a man.”His voice was apologetic but firm.
Ida stared at him incredulously.“But I can’t help you”, she replied."It’s you who don’t understand. I’m not even a nurse. I know nothing about midwifery, absolutely nothing. I’d be glad to help you if I could."
“Then my wife must die",returned the Muslim with stolid resignation.”It is the will of Allah.”
The girl watched him go down the steps and disappear. Then, without even glancing at her father, she fled into her room and shut the door.

It was then that the third call came.
“Ammal?”a diffident voice murmured.
She moved mechanically toward the door ,not daring to hope. But if it should be one of them, let it be the tall Brahmin, with the tortured eyes and the little wife who was just fourteen and so very beautiful. She lifted the lamp from the desk as she passed.

It was neither the Brahmin nor the grave Muslim. She recognized this man as the father of one of her pupils in the Hindu girls’ school, a respected member of the Mudaliar caste.
“Kamla?”The child’s name sprang to her lips in response to the urgency in the man’s face."Is she sick? Has anything happened?"
“Illai, no. Not Kamla, Missy Ammal.” The man spoke in stilted, halting English."But I have trouble. Much trouble."He lifted his hands palm to palm as his eyes implored her."I beg Missy, come to my house. I need much help."
Her eyes widened in horror. Her lips felt dry."Not—not your wife-"
"Amma,yes."He returned her look with wonder."How did Missy know? She is sick, much sick."Suddenly he was prostrating himself before her on the verandah floor, touching her feet."I beg Missy Ammal to come.If she come not,my wife dies."
"Please –don’t kneel to me!"Ida drew back so swiftly that the lamp flared.
"The Missy Ammal will come?"
"But –it would do no good for me to come!"she repeated the words tonelessly."I’m not  a doctor.It’s my father who is the doctor.Let me call him.I’m sure he can do something for your wife.If-if you’ll just let him-"
She knew the answer even before he lifted himself to his feet, revealing the outraged dignity, the bitterness of disappointment. No need even to listen to his words of shocked protest. She had heard them all twice before. But she did listen.
“The Missy Ammal will come? “he pleaded again finally.
"I’m sorry. I’d go with you if it would do any good .But it wouldn’t. Can’t you understand? The voice rose to a higher pitch, held suddenly a hint of hysteria."There’s nothing-nothing at all-that I could do!".This time she did not tell her father. After the man had turned and gone away, she shut the door tightly and bolted it.

As she lay on her bed, somewhere in the distance a nightjar began his restless hawking.
Chuck-chuk-chuk-r-r-r!            Chuck-chuk-chuk-r-r-r   !      Chuck-chuk-chuk-r-r-r!
Funny how often things seemed to come in threes, even the call of birds!Temptations.The crowing of cocks.A voice speaking to  a young boy as he lay wakeful, like this, on his bed. Samuel had known just what to do when he heard his name called three times. He had not only known just what to do. He had wanted to do it.There had been only one Samuel lying on his bed waiting, listening.But here there were two Idas, one tremulously aware, the other rebelling with every fiber of her taunt body. As the night wore on they struggled ,one with the other.

“It’s nonsense!God doesn’t speak to people these days.”

No? You have eyes to see things, haven’t you, like children lying by the roadside? Ears to hear people coming to your door?

"But –it’s not my fault if they’re foolish enough to let their wives die!It’s nothing to me!"

Isn’t it? Women like yourself ,loving life, one of them only fourteen-

"Stop! Didn’t  my father tell me it’s better to forget  a bad matter?"

If there is nothing you can do to remedy it.

“But there is nothing.”

Nothing? With three women dying less than a mile away for want of a woman doctor? With millions more-

“No,no,I couldn’t do that!Not if God himself were to ask me!”

Can’t you understand,Ida Scudder?It’s God himself who is asking.

Morning came. Rising with sudden urgency, she slipped her feet into her sandals and stepped out on the verandah only to be met by a funeral procession. She caught sight of a servant and called him. She asked him to find out what had happened to the three women. It was less than an hour when he returned.
“You did what I asked you,Souri?”
Amma ,I did so Missy.”
“And the three women who were sick?”
“Dead”,replied Souri.
She gasped,"You- you don’t mean –all three of them?"
Amma.All three of them,Missy.”
She shut the door and fled back into her room. Throwing herself on the bed ,she buried her head in the pillow and cried.
It wasn’t fair.Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. And death. She had thought it was necessary to die only once. But already today she had died thrice. Must it be so everyday to the end of life,not just three times but as many times as there were dying women within the possible reach of one’s hands?
“No,no!”This time the cry was too deep within her to be spoken aloud, “I-I can’t,I tell you! How –how can you ask it of me?
Minutes..hours..years..
She rose finally from her bed, opened the door ,and walked briskly along the verandah. She found her father and mother together  in the bedroom study.
“I’m going to America and study to be a doctor,” she announced steadily, “so I can come back here and help the women of India.”

And that decision, friends, of a young teenager, gave rise to one of the biggest hospitals in the country-The Christian Medical College and Hospital,Vellore founded by Dr.Ida Sophia Scudder.

Saturday, 27 August 2011

The Three knocks in the night-PART 1 (The story of the Christian Medical college and Hospital,Vellore,TamilNadu,India)

This is a true story that has had a profound effect on me ever since I heard it when I was barely three or four years old!It did affect my perspective on life and my view on missions.This has been taken from  'The torch of life' by Dorothy Clarke Wilson,a book on the biography of Dr.Ida Scudder,the founder of one of India's biggest mission hospitals.


(It was the year 1890.Sixteen year old Ida had come to visit her missionary parents in Vellore, India and take care of her mom who was sick. She couldn’t wait for her vacation to get over so that she could go back to the feel of fresh, clean air and to the warmth of a comfortable  living in the US.)
"Surely we don’t have to stay here!”she exclaimed."We don’t belong,and they don’t want us. Can’t we go home the first thing in the morning?"
Uncle Jared looked at her."What is your name,child?",he demanded sternly.
“You know what my name is,”she answered."Ida".
“Ida what?”
“Ida Scudder.”
“And what  does the name Scudder signify?”
Ida gave him a cool smile.
"The name Scudder,"she replied glibly, “maybe derived from  the Latin word scutari,which means shield bearers,or it may come from the Anglo-Saxon ‘scudari’,meaning to scud along before the wind.In either case-"

“In either case,it is not  a name for cowards .The shield bearer does not wear his implement of defense on his back.He who scuds before the wind runs ahead of the obstacle,not away from it. I assume the granddaughter of Dr.John Scudder the First has been told the story of her forebears?”.

"You assume correctly, brother," replied Dr.John II promptly."But it would do no harm to tell her again".

Ida listened. Uncle Jared had  a way with words."The first Dr.John,her grandfather, a successful New York physician, picking up  a pamphlet in the drawing room of a wealthy patient  back in 1819,reading about ‘The Claims of Six hundred millions’, determining inspite of his father’s protests to offer himself as the first medical missionary to go out from America to  a foreign country.Harriet Scudder,his beautiful young wife,sailing cheerfully with her husband  and two year old child on a 6 month voyage to faraway Ceylon,burying that child on a stopover in Calcutta ,bearing and burying two others within the next 18 months;then,as the years passed,not only working dauntlessly beside her husband but raising ten more children,eight sons and two daughters."

As her uncle talked ,Ida saw them all afresh,those eight sons of her grandfather.All but one of them (who had died while  a student in theological school)returned to India  after their education in America in their father’s footsteps….Henry,William,Joseph,Ezekiel,Jared,Silas and John.

"Our father had no horse and carriage," Uncle Jared said."He sometimes went by palanquin, usually on foot. He travelled constantly. On one tour he went to the Nilgiris and over them and down into the Mysore forests on the other side.He had narrow escapes from wild animals. He was taken sick with jungle fever.Someone brought word to our mother ,and she felt she must go to him.She hired bearers with a tent and provisions and,taking her small son,set off,travelling day and night through the jungle.Her bearers ran off and left her.Alone that night,she heard the tread of wild elephants,the growls of tigers drawing near,then receding.In the morning,the bearers returned ,and she went on.She found our father there in the forest and brought him back.Did you ever hear that story, Ida Scudder?”

“Yes”, Ida replied, gazing steadily up at her uncle.
He turned on her with fierce intensity."And do you think the sons of John Scudder-or his granddaughters-should turn tail and run when faced with hostility?"

But Ida would not be forced into  a mold.She was  a Scudder,yes,but she would choose for herself what shield to bear and what winds to run before. And they would not be laden with the dusts and rains and fires of India. But God had a beautiful purpose for Ida…a purpose that would be revealed by’three knocks in the night’.(to be continued)  

   -From The torch of life by Dorothy Clarke Wilson