State of War

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Romans 5:1

The world is fragmented and many nations are at war. The United States and its allies are never far from being drawn into escalating conflicts. One influential leader told reporters, “The world is in a state of war in bits and pieces… The world is at war because it has lost peace.”

The fundamental war—and the one that spawns all the others—is humanity’s war against God. Without Jesus Christ, we’re in a state of war with our Creator. We are estranged from Him, and that spills over into all the other conflicts.

Jesus Christ came to be the mediator, to be the peacemaker, and to reconcile us to God so we can have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ—and then peace with others. When we’re at peace with God through Christ, we have continual, constant, unbroken, enduring access to His grace, all the time. We have access into God’s presence. We have access to prayer, to the throne of grace. We have access to all His promises in the Bible. We become people of peace.

Peace with God is something only the believer in Jesus Christ can claim, and that’s why our message is called the “gospel of peace” (Ephesians 6:15).

God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.
C. S. Lewis


Red – Pieces (Lyrics+Video)

Once upon a time this was me. This is a shout out to everyone who got a second chance. Not all of us get to be this lucky… Most of us just fade away… lost and forgotten

I’m here again
A thousand miles away from you
A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard
Thought I could do this on my own
I’ve lost so much along the way

Then I’ll see your face
I know I’m finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole

I’ve come undone
But you make sense of who I am
Like puzzle pieces in your eye

Then I’ll see your face
I know I’m finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole!

I tried so hard! So hard!
I tried so hard!

Then I’ll see your face
I know I’m finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole
So you can make me whole

Remembering Pappa

Me and Dad
Pappa’s first bike (An Enfield, I think)

I am not sure, if fahers and sons are supposed to share moments of intimacy  or do the mind meld thing. What I mean by that is conversational intimacy, or in some cases an extra hug, a shoulder tap, or a longing look.

I wonder because, I never shared that with my father. He was rather predisposed to formality. I guess this has more to do with British civility, a legacy from the past. My grand father was the same with my father, atleast that’s what Pappa told me. He was very strict with my father.

I remeber he told me once how he got punished when he was young. He was supposed to receive 7 beatings and he was supposed to stay in a tight circle. If he stepped outside the circle when he was getting punished, he would get an extra seven beating every time he stepped outside of the circle. That day he got beaten ( usually this would mean, he was struck below the knees, if everything went well) with a cane 47 times. He fell sick that day with high fever. I guess he must have been shocked both mentally and physically.  The sad thing was, this was all done in good gesture. Pappa was my grandfather’s favourite child amoung his 8 children ( First born son). So it was not easy on my grandfather. He was by my dad’s bed side the entire time, until get got well. But that’s how life was then. My grandfather was a school teacher and he always made sure that he was my pappa’s class teacher. So, when Pappa got promoted each year to the next grade, my grandfather would be overseeing him (class teacher). Normally this would be a good thing, since pappa should have gotten some extra attention. But all of the extra attention that he got was in terms of extra punishment. In order to make sure that my grand father was impartial, my father got an extra dose of punishment every time he was naughty.

Grand father posing
A dated image of my granddad

You would think that my father would have grown up to be a scared little boy. but he was anything but a scared little boy, he admitted that he was a naughty little rascal. He told me that once he kicked some other boy on the face. Another time , he pushed a boy of a tree and the boy broke his leg.  He gave and he received in equal measure.

Part of the reason my grand father loved Pappa more was, because he was a chronic asthmatic when he was small

the whole family
Pappa, third from the left (2nd row)

Which meant that he needed lots more extra attention and lots more sympathy.

Getting back to my original thought of not being able to share intimacy with Pappa, I have to reconcile that he did share life stories and such with me. It’s just that, I never had a truly adult conversation with him. May be that is not normal.

He had this insane death stares. I could never tell what he was thinking, was he tryieng to intimidate me, or was it a challenge? I always diverted my eyes and looked elsewhere.  Any more would be intimidating or disrespectfull.

I know he cared about me… a lot, but I know that I never made him happy or gave him a chance to be proud of me. The last years of his life was filled with regret, because he saw me diminishing for the worse.  But he had hope, he always said that I was not destined to fail. That all of it was a temporary setback. He knew that everything would work out, even if he was there not to witness it.  Pappa had an uncanny ability to predict the future. He was able to predict the day that he would die.  He was off by a day, but I am not sure if that counts, because he lost his consciousness a day or two before he died.

we don't have any pics of my dad smiling

I like to think that he is happy where he is. He was a commited christian, who stood firm in his beleifs.


Related image

This void in my heart
Infinite chasm, beyond repair
looking inward
where does this pain come from?

secret lies and hidden thoughts
A morbid disease of the soul
in a desert of lascivious pride
black is the color of my true love

perfidious, feckless, fickle
Vegetating in this slump
Wallowing in the wastelands
of imperfect asymmetry

Arms unfurled
I look up at the night sky
Searching, yearning for recompense
Remission for sins untold

Grace perfected,
Sweat that bleeds red
pain embraced, the agony of love
Slaughter of the lamb, forgiveness drawn
Rain falls, showers that be

where embers glow, transmuting the pneuma
this is the place of reconciliation
propitiation in place of death
humble, but exalting and exalted


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The Absence of Arrogance

By humility and the fear of the Lord are riches and honor and life.
Proverbs 22:4

One day Dr. Sheila Murray Bethel attended a luncheon in Washington, D.C., hosted by Katharine Graham, the far-famed publisher of The Washington Post. Mrs. Graham’s parties were legendary, and she rubbed shoulders with the greatest statesmen on earth. “Mrs. Graham,” asked Dr. Bethel, “you have hosted all the greatest leaders from around the world. What is the single most important trait of all great leaders?” Mrs. Graham answered without even pausing to think. “The absence of arrogance,” she said.

When you think of influential leaders—those whose legacy has grown over time—you think of people with a streak of humility, whose desire for service eclipsed the desire for fame and fortune. Great leaders are those who listen and who pause to speak to others without concern for rank or status. The best leaders on earth are gracious, not grandiose. They seem to possess an absence of arrogance.

We’re all leaders in one way or another. To be effective, we should display God’s humility, not a false pretense of our own. Let’s all develop the quality of being humble, not haughty.

The greatness of man is great in that he knows himself to be wretched. A tree does not know itself to be wretched.
Blaise Pascal