His-Story in Her-Story

Her-Story: My heart yearns for them

2010-03-31T14:43:00.002-04:00

My years as a young adult and presently as a middle-aged woman find something in common, an inability to be around younger children for too long. Their unpredictable behaviour patterns send my stress levels to new heights. Perhaps now it is a byproduct of my ongoing depression cycle. But as a young adult, I just couldn't figure out how their 'little minds' worked. (:

But there was one period in the middle of these two life sectors where some young children captured my heart, time and energy. The unthinkable had happened and God just covered me. A time of brokenness. A time of grace. A time I knew no fear, perhaps because for a while His grace overflowed in His 'perfect love' which drives out fear.

Back (l-r) Anne, Sita. Front (l-r) Alex, Solange, (?)cute Jamaican, (?)Tindu's bro...

I don't even remember all their names. There were the Punjabi children, Sukinder, Tindu, and their little brother; the cute Jamaican girl; the Korean siblings, Anne and Alex. They all lived on the same floor in my apartment building. How and when did we meet and build a connection? I cannot even remember.

What I do remember is that we would get together after school or on the weekends sometimes in my apartment or right outside my door. Sometimes my university friends, Solange and Esteban would join us. I would have my guitar and play the 4 songs I knew repeatedly. One song I remember well was God Is So Good. And I had each of us sing to the other in this verse: "God loves (Tindu), God loves (Tindu), God loves (Tindu), He's so good to her..." We would tape ourselves. I still have one tape and when I listened to the children singing, I heard Anne's beautiful child's voice singing, "God loves Sita, God loves Sita, God loves Sita, He's so good to her..." That was more powerful than any other person saying it.

One very special time, we went around in a circle and asked Jesus into our hearts. I don't know if they grasped what they did and I can only pray that this will come back to them whereever they are right now.
(l-r) Tindu, me, Sunkinder

Alex and Anne

I spent most time with Sukinder, Tindu, Anne and
Alex. In fact, Anne and Alex came back to visit once after they moved out and I know they must be successful and thriving right now.

However, I am unsure about Sukinder and Tindu. I accompanied both girls to some parent-teacher meetings because their Mom did not speak English well. Unfortunately, their parents did not deem the education of their girls as important as that of their son. Later on, I would learn that their son developed serious behavioral problems at school and was put into an alternative school. He had some disorders, perhaps ADHD or autism that was not diagnosed early enough or more likely not acknowledged by their parents.

Sue was growing up fast and the western culture clashed badly with the Punjabi culture in her home. Her parents had a poor image of 'Canadian' culture which they saw as wild and promiscuous and were very strict with their daughters. They only allowed them to be with me. How odd, since I was not 'Indian' really in culture but they knew I was a 'church' girl. Sue had unpleasant encounters at school with other girls. She was strong-willed and did not back down. One time she called me to ask if she could tell her folks she was visiting me but she wanted to 'meet' a guy. Naturally, I declined as I told her I would not be used to deceive her parents. I wish now looking back, I could have had more of an influence on her life, but I did not know then what she was experiencing in high school as a member of a 'stigmatized' group as Indians were back then.

Much later, after I had lost contact with them when we had all moved away to different locations, my sister, who worked with group homes, met Sue. She had had problems with the law. That hurt. She said that Tindu had married and had moved to Montreal. My sister did not get the contact info and she never met her again.

In the past couple of months, they have come back to my heart. One, in particular. One whose picture I kept in my purse. In fact, when I first met my husband, Mike, I showed him her picture and said that she was my daughter. He looked stunned but soon smiled when I explained who she actually was. Here she is, my Tindu:

Isn't she beautiful? Such innocence. She was soft-spoken and so tender-hearted. She gave me this school pic and it says in the back, To Sita, Love, Tindu. That means so much.

You see, in recent years past, I had come to believe that I had done nothing that counted. In all the sharing of Jesus that I did in the past, I could not think of anyone who was now a solid disciple.

But, more recently God has reminded me that 'results' are His work which I may or may not see. My work is simply to obey. And back then, obedience was so simple. Love came so easy. Those children loved me unconditionally.

I remember one Christmas apologizing to them for not being able to buy them gifts. Sukinder just looked at me and said, "Sita, you spend time with us. That's all we need." Wow. Out of the mouths of babes come wisdom. Thank you, Sukinder, for reminding me what children really want. What each human really wants. What God wants with each of us.

Today, Lord, I want to bring 'my children' to Your Heavenly throne and ask You to bring back to their conscious minds the words of the simple gospel songs we sang, the simple bonds that held us back then, the Name of Your Son, Jesus. Father, I want the words of our song to ring in their ears, "God loves Tindu, God loves Sue, God loves Anne, God loves Alex...." I recommit them to You, God. Send Your servants to walk alongside them. Deliver them from evil. Restore them to Yourself. And if it be possible, will You let me meet them again? In the mighty Name of Jesus, I pray, Amen.

And Tindu, I love you too. Always.

1.      God is so good, God is so good, 
 God is so good, God's so good to me. 

2. God cares for me, God cares for me, 
 God cares for me, God's so good to me. 

3. God loves me so, God loves me so, 
 God loves me so, God's so good to me. 

4. God is so good, God is so good, 
 God is so good, God's so good to me.

5.      God loves ____, God loves ____,

        God loves ____, He's so good to ___.

Her-Story: The Trumping of a Virtual Reality Victory

2009-05-12T13:02:00.009-04:00

(Actual photo taken after meeting with God that weekend.)

The Trumping of a Virtual Reality Victory

The attack was brilliant and calculated. The strategy read:
Disarm;
Deceive;
Aim the missiles at the life-sustaining organs;
Give no time for recovery or to recoup losses;
Relentlessly bombard until mission is accomplished.
By the time this attack was over, its’ goal apparently met, its’ victims lay disabled in a stupor of pain, confusion and despair.

No, this was not a page from a military war handbook. This was a chapter in the life of an ordinary family in a 3-year span. The missiles were not actual warheads, but cumulative blows that left a wasteland in all areas of our life, financial, physical, emotional, and spiritual: a virtual victory for the Destroyer. Or so it seemed.

The first blow came when I lost my job, our major source of income. However, we took that as a confirmation that God was confirming our desire for overseas ministry. So we moved into temporary lodgings meant for missionaries in transition, where the rent was affordable. However, financial stress arose alarmingly in a couple of months.

It was then that the second blow struck. I suffered a miscarriage. I lost a baby. As I look back, my system probably went into auto-defense, burying my pain until I could deal with it. So, on the surface, I quickly responded to sympathy,

“Well, God knew best.”

Then my husband got a new night shift, which, although it provided more income, worked havoc on my husband’s system and our family life. His body just could not adjust to this shift and he went many weeks without adequate sleep. Fatigue and insomnia. Much later we would discover that he had adult ADD and a night shift was the worst possible scenario for his system. It was then the near-fatal blow struck, cutting off our breathing supply, as we went into a state of shock.

Our ten-year dream and planning of going into overseas ministry was squashed. We had spent all our savings in packing material and moving most of our belongings to a shipping company, ready to be shipped. That is how certain we were of God’s leading. Suddenly, we had to ask whether we really had heard the voice of God. Were our lives thus far a ‘lie’?

The tug at our hearts for ministry...

the Bible college and seminary training...

the Scripture we had 'heard'...

the encouragement of people who 'knew' our hearts...

This had to be the worst void I had ever felt in my entire life.

Loss of the 'voice' of God, the core of my existence.
I was afraid to listen, to hear God because deep down I would be questioning, "Is it really God?"

Then began a reticence to read God's Word simply because I was afraid to believe that it could apply to me. After all, it seemed to be all a farce in this situation.

However, we were not granted the privilege of having time alone with God to search our hearts and hear His Voice. That was what I had learned to do in the past, like David in the Psalms. Immediate physical needs demanded our attention.

We had to move from our temporary lodgings as agreed, but before we could move into a new apartment we had booked, the next blow, my husband lost his job. Without employment income, we could not move to the new apartment. For 2 months we stayed at the place of someone we thought had offered in good faith knowing our situation, only to be mistreated. I shifted to survival gear as I numbly told God, “Help.”

Out of the blue we got a phone call from a subsidized cooperative that we had made an application with two years prior. We had got an affordable apartment! Around this time I also became pregnant again with acute morning sickness, which as the pregnancy progressed was replaced by intense back and leg pains.

More blows. My husband went on to get two more jobs, and lose them consecutively. I watched him sink deep into a depression as he searched for God and could not find or hear from Him. All we felt was silence.

Where was God?

Physically and emotionally, I could not handle more than I had, taking care of my preschooler, coping with chronic pain and pushing my pain further down as I struggled with my husband just to keep our heads above water. After our baby arrived, I suffered post-partum complications including back pain and depression for over a year. I went into a stupor.

It was in this stupefied state, knowing that God alone could reach me as He had in the past, that I found myself down at the lakeshore where my husband’s parents had invited us for a weekend.

On this cool fall morning, as I strolled slowly and purposefully down the shore, my soul felt as numb as my ears and fingers. I was determined for God to break through as He had in the past. This was the first getaway our family had had in several years, and being close to nature, especially in proximity to a large body of water, always seemed to usher me into God’s presence quickly. The numbness in my soul frankly scared me. Disconnected. I was lost in a fog of despair and fatigue, something I now label as depression, and I just couldn’t get in touch with God anymore.

“How did I get to this state, God? I don’t know who I am anymore. Please, let me hear Your Voice, let me see You again!” my soul cried.

I knew the facts of God’s love and grace. Yet, this onslaught left me doubting my value to Him. I could not find the God I had known anywhere. I was afraid to ‘hear’ His Voice; after all, I had been wrong before. Reading the Bible brought no comfort or feeling back to my soul, so I stopped. It seemed meaningless. I continued to pray in a rote manner, but concentrated on prayers for my children. The message I was receiving was clear to me:
”You’ve missed the mark; you’re not worth God’s time or attention.”
Satan’s plan seemed to be working. I had not had time to properly grieve over my losses using God’s Word as a filter, so my pain became buried and revealed itself in my cyclical depression.

So, as I sat down on the grainy sand on the lakeshore that morning, I cried out for hope and then just stared at the lake and listened.

The calm, mysterious waters reminded me of my Creator,

as my soul rapidly quieted to listen.

All of my senses slowly heightened,

and I could smell the aroma of wet earth.

I could hear the soft swishing of water at my feet;

I could feel the soft morning breeze as it curled my hair about my face.

It seemed that I automatically stood up

and raised my hands in unison with all of creation in worship.

I closed my eyes as sudden warmth enveloped me,

the warmth of a love I had not realized before.

It lay before me, in the wonder of the creation that surrounded me,

the love that it had taken to create such grandeur.

Slowly the concepts of His absolute sovereignty and love

began to seep deeply into my soul.

This same God, who so lovingly formed

and left the stamp of His Presence in this grandeur around me,

formed me, loves me and never leaves me,

no matter what.

Even while Satan was implementing his brilliant scheme against us as a family, God was boldly marking His line of sovereignty and grace in our lives, the stamp of His Presence through it all. We were always delivered just in time or He provided that extra grace needed in the darkness that kept us from being swallowed up. His Word says, [inserting my name]

Isaiah 43:1-2

But now, this is what the LORD says—

he who created you, O Sita

he who formed you, O Sita:

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;

I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers,

they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire,

you will not be burned;

the flames will not set you ablaze.

Indeed, He did not leave us or forsake us as He has promised in His Word, even though we could not ‘see’ Him.

Our baby was born healthy and is the most joyful and sensitive child, who, along with his older brother, fill our home with joy and laughter. This is a miracle for me since they had such glum-faced parents around them. Friendships were weeded out and we were left with the genuine gems, unembarrassed by our weak humanity and sub-zero status on society’s who-we-know measure. This experience left some wounds yet to be redeemed, but it has left me with the sound knowledge that God is Who He says He is, sovereign, loving, and faithful.

Like a roaring lion, Satan seeks whom he may devour, and may succeed in deceiving us for a while that he has, but when we release our fears to God and acknowledge His love for us, Satan holds no power over us. Increasingly with each crisis, I am learning very slowly to face life with a peace that passes all understanding, and can truly say that I know this Scripture:

“And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will Himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To Him be the power forever and ever, Amen.” (1 Peter 5:10-11)

The destroyer’s victory turned out to be ‘virtual reality’, a simulated version of the eternal reality, lacking the true ending. God held the 'trump card' - redemption.

God reigns victorious.

Her-Story: A Burst of Glory (part 1)

2009-01-01T21:53:00.006-05:00

She stumbled along the path. Darkness had slowly surrounded her as the trees seemed to grow thicker around her. Her arms and knees throbbed as she labored desperately to increase the distance between herself and her would-be abductor. Her face contorted in pain as she tripped once again. She lay with her eyes closed in terror even as she heard a branch snap in the distance. How on earth did this happen to her? This was surreal. Have to get up. What do I do? Adrenaline pumped through her veins. "Help, God, please...". She slowly got up, opened her eyes.
Dumbfounded, she stopped. Silence descended as light poured out, ray upon ray, beam upon beam. It was like Christmas, except the light came from the sky touching the leaves, touching the branches, touching the ground, touching the air. Wherever it touched, beauty exploded in detail, the colours sharpened, the lines stood out. What was once dark and foreboding was suddenly transformed into a divine cacaphony of light, colors, forms, details. What is this?

Slowly she approached. Fear and terror had disappeared. A growing sense of safety grew as did a longing to be in that Light. She walked right into it, closing her eyes, arms outstretched. Quite naturally, she slowly spun around, and around, a new warmth filling her cold limbs. Relishing, relishing. A satisfaction started growing, it seemed to slowly go from her toes to the top of her head, but it flowed deep into her being. Satisfaction like she had never known. She suddenly knew and smiled.

His Presence. His glory.

Welcome...

2008-08-13T13:55:00.009-04:00

I have decided to use this blog to write whatever God lays on my heart...stories that show ashes to beauty...light in the darkness...using a mish-mash of experiences...maybe mine...or others who have shared...or just from my imagination...

I found the banner picture in my Microsoft collection and it just draws me in and fills me with hope...

So let's see how this progresses, shall we?

With Love, Thoughts, and Prayers,
Sita