tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-94034712024-03-07T17:17:37.707+03:00The Reluctant HermitWould it have been worth while,<br>
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,<br>
To have squeezed the universe into a ball<br>
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,<br>
To say: 'I am Lazarus, come from the dead,<br>
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all'<br><br> (T.S. Eliot)Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.comBlogger240125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-59779885920599554382021-06-17T10:46:00.007+03:002021-06-17T10:52:16.612+03:00Christmas Day<p style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://youtube.com/watch?v=sJi41RWaTCs&feature=share"></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bXIYO_GxDpVEn8ZGI7RfhuZNfnpRsr-2utdQXZH4fRf0A_-7iTL3qqux-p2tocj1EYh8kZwj8u7-cIlhEHhk2GGB4XWyR_3TNPK6eM4zXn0fjG2iGUX2jCiZFj3dnEu5HbgecA/s2048/IMG_7538.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1798" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bXIYO_GxDpVEn8ZGI7RfhuZNfnpRsr-2utdQXZH4fRf0A_-7iTL3qqux-p2tocj1EYh8kZwj8u7-cIlhEHhk2GGB4XWyR_3TNPK6eM4zXn0fjG2iGUX2jCiZFj3dnEu5HbgecA/s320/IMG_7538.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EghujaSynnM</div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>So I finally made it to the end of my Christmas countdown. I wasn't sure that I'd be able to make it so far because of all the other work and non-work related deadlines that were jostling for my attention. </p><p>Anyway, I feel somewhat good that I managed to wrap it up by D-Day. Now this makes me think that maybe in the coming year I should be more regular with my blogging instead of resolving to do so and only managing to post stuff during the Christmas period.</p><p>Christmas is here and though it is different this year unlike the many Christmas-es we have been through, it is also a time to reflect on what really matters.</p><p>More to the point, we need to take a pause and be thankful for what we have instead of feeling disappointed for what we have lost.</p><p>This is why am sharing this song that has been my favourite every year as it brings to light what is precious about the festive season - love, togetherness and a sense of fellowship.</p><p>This year, we may not be able to meet in person but that doesn't mean communication has stopped or that interaction with one another has become a major hurdle. Virtual communication platforms may not be the same as meeting someone face to face but they do allow us to meet across geographical boundaries... and besides we don't have to dress up or search for parking just to meet someone.</p><p>In some ways, our lives may not be as tragic as that of the soldiers who fought in the trenches, and we may never suffer a day like they have - and hope we never do. However, they faced isolation and disconnect from all that they loved and cherished.. and for them the festive season was a bittersweet reminder of pleasant days at home with loved ones.</p><p>The COVID has isolated many of us, and we are no longer in touch the way we used to be, and so if this pandemic has managed to give us a sense of empathy to these soldiers and others like them... maybe we may have just clutched the true meaning of Christmas.</p><p><b><br />I just realised I did not post this on Christmas Day even though I had finished writing it. </b></p>Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-8118371023320336132020-12-24T20:02:00.001+03:002020-12-25T09:25:53.634+03:00Night Before Christmas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejer9Zqr1q7IZTaLizoy1qqEGsCR32fJ-_PJbYuCdgJFfZqcb0d8FPHDXNhWIfjb9Thyphenhyphen4JL1Xa1Vt1Pn42Zdp8ICD-elC6NpP_ASTV-XnGIK0SsW4oZngC8W8F3d4Gim6rf1R9w/s2048/983523E6-D0A6-457B-91F8-E019B8907842.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejer9Zqr1q7IZTaLizoy1qqEGsCR32fJ-_PJbYuCdgJFfZqcb0d8FPHDXNhWIfjb9Thyphenhyphen4JL1Xa1Vt1Pn42Zdp8ICD-elC6NpP_ASTV-XnGIK0SsW4oZngC8W8F3d4Gim6rf1R9w/s320/983523E6-D0A6-457B-91F8-E019B8907842.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />It's Christmas Eve!<p></p><p>It is, perhaps, one of the most important days in the festive calendar - there's anticipation about the big day next day, and a sense of revelry about it that makes every moment memorable. </p><p>I'm sure if we try hard, we'll be able to remember each and every Christmas Eve that we've been through in our lives. Alright, maybe not all but certainly won't be hard to remember most Christmas Eves.</p><p>I guess, it is also because every year marks a new transition in our life journey - every year adding a new layer to our life experience and shaping us into the person we end up becoming.</p><p>These transitions seem more obvious during our childhood years because every year brings with it physiological, psychological and emotional changes.</p><p>Then, of course, there is always the excitement and drama that goes with every Christmas celebration. Every year we experience it differently as we get older and hopefully wiser. </p><p>It's not just about Santa being a big thing when we are young, and also not about Santa being a bigger thing when we are older and have to take up that role. It's about how memories are made at this time of the year - and how we allow our emotions to be soaked with all that the season has to offer.</p><p>In a sense we allow ourselves to be happy - or at least pretend to be. Some might go the whole nine yards with the 'ho ho ho' and others would do the same but in a more subdued manner.</p><p>The thing is, Christmas is a time when we want to celebrate with each other. There is that community element that makes fellowship and get-togethers part of the complete experience.</p><p>Somehow going to church on Christmas Eve and lighting the candles seems like a necessary thing to do - not just for the devout but also for some who are irreligious. Some may attend church only on this night and may not step inside rest of the year. </p><p>There is - again - the same fervour that goes with Christmas meals and parties. The same heartfelt ache to connect with others in a moment of joyful celebration as a community. </p><p>Some might think of it as a primal thing that defines us a species - that it somehow underlines how we as social beings want to connect and celebrate. If not Christmas, it could be Eid, Diwali, Hanukkah or just a weekend with friends at a concert or a club. We want to have an excuse to let down our hair (whatever little some of us have) and just indulge in a time of merriment.</p><p>Of course, some of the devout might not approve of the secularisation of festivities and might insist that 'Jesus is the reason for the season.' They might feel that the focus on eating and drinking takes away the spotlight on the Christ Child born in Bethlehem.</p><p>Now here's what I think. Those of us who are devout must always keep Christ as the centre of our lives - not just during the Christmas season but throughout the year. Our lives should be a reflection of his command to love our neighbors a and enemies, and agape needs to be a lifestyle and not a catchphrase.</p><p>But then we need to recognise that something deeper is going on when we see people celebrating together and wanting to greet even complete strangers. We are seeing something positive that needs to be cherished and not shunned. This desire to be merry suggests that at the basic level we as a species can - if we want to - put aside all our differences and just celebrate. </p><p>Somehow in recent years identity politics and ideological polarisation have sharpened divisions. We no longer see each other as fellow travellers in the journey of life but as adversaries who need to be stopped in their track before they pollute our minds.</p><p>This is the reality of 2020 that even COVID-19 hasn't been able to erase. There is no vaccine for hatred except maybe agape but that would involve being sacrificial and that's the last thing some of us would want to be.</p><p>Till then, the least thing we can do is tap into our innate desire to connect and celebrate, and hopefully out of that deep fountain we might find the resources to love our neighbours. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-80350874998969349122020-12-24T07:21:00.002+03:002020-12-24T07:22:17.545+03:00Two Days to Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3RKTSSIWT8z1ehilyUgc-CFAP8bepZw6roTR74ayOVrZ7mqXz9FlmitIiwcJHLHW16uCTTOByQ7WNtLznB0hQUbJn9Yz5B2B5FqqPi5CHThCbRJ4w1ovuFHkb_dQ7e0uV5JmaA/s2048/48424697-F40C-4CB6-B776-823F03308B23.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3RKTSSIWT8z1ehilyUgc-CFAP8bepZw6roTR74ayOVrZ7mqXz9FlmitIiwcJHLHW16uCTTOByQ7WNtLznB0hQUbJn9Yz5B2B5FqqPi5CHThCbRJ4w1ovuFHkb_dQ7e0uV5JmaA/s320/48424697-F40C-4CB6-B776-823F03308B23.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I don't know Private Jones. All I know about him was that he served with the South Wales Borderers, and died at the young age of 18 on 10th June, 1967.<div><br /></div><div>I think his ID number inscribed on his tombstone might give more information about him but all I do know is that he was buried in the Salmabad Christian Cemetery along with other colleagues of his.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have no idea how he died - did he fall sick and medical attention came a little too late? Did he die in service since he was with the British Army and got involved in some conflict where he paid the highest price? </div><div><br /></div><div>I wouldn't have spotted his grave if I had not decided to look around the cemetery when we went there on the first anniversary of my father's passing on November 29. Sometimes when you walk around a cemetery, you learn something new and make discoveries that make you think and pause. </div><div><br /></div><div>I wondered if he was homesick when he died - or how long did his parents mourn his passing? Did he have any siblings - and did they miss having this brother around them? He would have been 71 today and probably with children and grandchildren of his own, and if not, he would possibly be the kind of uncle who had lot of war stories to share.</div><div><br /></div><div>Is there anyone who still remembers him - or even cares that he is buried somewhere in the Arabian Gulf and far, far from his homeland. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_D9HhONHllOUACwfw3PXkSgW0wWLDWEdoN4tWDJBeJxvO_yRuZIS8L7ZlWnUbHbhOqGi7o7esajWhxOhg_g9DnixMHPHPw09C72D4wo0OFgDNFFm9BlW2E1DLsB55fnQHGtwJw/s2048/4DFEFFF1-3D00-43EB-AFA4-67A9E8B2A6CD.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_D9HhONHllOUACwfw3PXkSgW0wWLDWEdoN4tWDJBeJxvO_yRuZIS8L7ZlWnUbHbhOqGi7o7esajWhxOhg_g9DnixMHPHPw09C72D4wo0OFgDNFFm9BlW2E1DLsB55fnQHGtwJw/s320/4DFEFFF1-3D00-43EB-AFA4-67A9E8B2A6CD.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>At least, his grave has a name unlike another that was marked <i>Unknown RIP. </i>You can't go more impersonal than that - and I wonder, who is buried there and what stories and life experiences have been extinguished because no one knows who, what and when about this particular grave.</div><div><br /></div><div>Again, is there someone waiting for this person to return not knowing that the person is no longer alive?Was it someone engaged to be married and did his fiancee think he ran away with someone else leaving her heartbroken? Or was he someone who made plans to do something wild and adventurous with his friends, and they figured he chickened out?</div><div><br /></div><div>For all you know the person buried might have been a complete jerk, and many might be relieved that they haven't seen or heard from him for a long, long time.</div><div><br /></div><div>We would never know. We can only speculate but we will never know.</div><div><br /></div><div>For some reason this Christmas I thought of these two people and wondered about them and many others who are buried - and possibly forgotten and as a result erased from memory.</div><div><br /></div><div>Who would think of them unless they really mattered and their absence felt in a more tangible sense? </div><div><br /></div><div>Christmas is a time when we enjoy being with loved ones - and also a time when we make it a point to remember those not with us whose presence at one time brought much joy to our lives. I think of my parents who lived long enough for us to cherish having them around, and who gave us memories that we still hold dear to our hearts. </div><div><br /></div><div>They are remembered and missed... however, it also made me think of ourselves who are still in the land of the living. </div><div><br /></div><div>What are we doing today that will leave a lasting legacy for tomorrow? It doesn't have to be a cure for cancer or solution to ending world hunger, but could be something small and insignificant but one that would bring a smile on someone's face. If not a smile, at least, a sense of relief or satisfaction of having done something that was honourable.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jesus dis say, <i>be like a salt, </i>and we need to ask, are we salty enough or are we mere chalk dust? </div><div><br /></div>Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-90667052297051068012020-12-22T22:29:00.003+03:002020-12-23T07:11:46.164+03:00Three Days to Christmas <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYrlxQ-CvDg22pPP5DPQwBjtvtWQkJuRl9fiq45Ht80523CyaSPbez408G0X-degSsl1fmOuV3GCyvbyP_sSv-u6X0_KPulrFzLwr-Yls5ISLtpA2BFphDLHoKfd_I1bIz_9diA/s1792/DDACB032-6F9F-4BDD-91D2-DD0A99C0212D.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="828" data-original-width="1792" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYrlxQ-CvDg22pPP5DPQwBjtvtWQkJuRl9fiq45Ht80523CyaSPbez408G0X-degSsl1fmOuV3GCyvbyP_sSv-u6X0_KPulrFzLwr-Yls5ISLtpA2BFphDLHoKfd_I1bIz_9diA/w400-h185/DDACB032-6F9F-4BDD-91D2-DD0A99C0212D.png" width="400" /></a></div>We don't know if the Great Conjunction is in anyway related to the Star of Bethlehem. Maybe or maybe not. We really can't say for sure, but it does add to a good Christmas story. <p></p><div>My wife and I managed to go to Nurana Islands - a newly reclaimed area that is yet to see any development and hence an ideal place for such sightings. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now though the island itself was dark the horizon wasn't and the two planets could be seen right above the haze of the city lights as a faint dot. Sadly, it wasn't a bright glow of light that we see in Christmas cards, but fact that we could see it and be part of a 'once in a lifetime' experience was in itself significant.</div><div><br /></div><div>It did help that I had a stargazing app on my mobile which I could use to spot the planets and stars, and the image you see is a screenshot of what I saw. Here both planets are so close to each other that it seems as if Jupiter has a massive ring around it instead of the smaller ring that the Voyager discovered.</div><div><br /></div><div>It made me think of the wise men who may have spotted this conjunction or something else in the sky that made them curious enough to make that long journey to Bethlehem. Unlike what we see in Christmas cards, it's highly unlikely that the celestial event remained in the night sky by the time they reached Bethlehem or Nazareth.</div><div><br /></div><div>All they had was the memory of what they saw, the location of the star based on their astronomical understanding, and the logistics of organising the long trek from Persia or wherever they came from. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now here's the thing. They experienced what they felt was a 'moment of significance' when they saw something out of the ordinary in the night sky. They must have seen and studied the night sky in great detail on a regular basis for them to notice the celestial alignment was not normal. It triggered a response and prompted a journey - probably one that continued long after the conjunction or alignment faded and disappeared.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like the magi, I wonder if we are capable of noticing such moments of significance in the ordinary and the regular hurly burly of life. Does something in our day to day strike us as odd that it would force us to make major changes in life just to get a better understanding of it and experience it deeper? Will we be so convinced about that moment's significance that it would leave us changed forever?</div><div><br /></div><div>I am sure if we look up in the night sky there will be many such significant celestial events that are waiting to be discovered. Maybe in a similar manner, there could be such moments happening even without us being aware but for that we need to embrace a stargazer's perception and see things for ourselves.</div><div><br /></div><div>Would we take that chance?</div>Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-18324677955695667382020-12-21T22:56:00.001+03:002020-12-22T07:47:33.711+03:00Four Days to Christmas<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvlQqIV5M1VbrmlcXo-GFejewGlh5ufSrok7LnWGxmOZQ6YtQyJa9pL0j38jRKoAvOZPO4n7fQfTo_NqTTsl1ZZjgKSptmwwwztyMwAH_HLm7Ij3hiEaI1X6LOuP97AOmnM0oXw/s2048/8E44EF64-8AA8-4266-8198-812D72F8F8B7.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvlQqIV5M1VbrmlcXo-GFejewGlh5ufSrok7LnWGxmOZQ6YtQyJa9pL0j38jRKoAvOZPO4n7fQfTo_NqTTsl1ZZjgKSptmwwwztyMwAH_HLm7Ij3hiEaI1X6LOuP97AOmnM0oXw/s320/8E44EF64-8AA8-4266-8198-812D72F8F8B7.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />It has been an inconvenient year. <div><br /></div><div>2020 will go down in history as that year when that which is normal and expected seemed abhorrent. The simple act of meeting and greeting was replaced with keeping a distance, and the inconvenience caused was considered vital for our health and safety.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was a year when we embraced inconvenience as part of our life, and didn't think of it as odd that we would go out of our way to be apart and regard it as necessary. </div><div><br /></div><div>The inconvenience to daily living, to business, to work, and life in general seemed to be part of our survival package, and because of it, we began living by these new codes that somehow 'normalised' the obvious discomforts.</div><div><br /></div><div>There were other inconveniences, too. </div><div><br /></div><div>The reality of the virus had a deadly impact on our lives, and many of us suffered from it, or know someone who has, and while others faced the tragedy of losing loved ones. The normality of life implies having those we love to be around, and yet the virus robbed many of these simple joys of life. </div><div><br /></div><div>For youngsters who just finished high school, there was no chance of just chilling or hanging around because that was considered deadly. Many were forced to stay cooped up at home and maintain contact with their friends using Zoom or WhatsApp or FaceTime or whatever. For them, this loss can never be replaced and the inconvenience they felt will linger throughout their lives because they will never regain the carefree time one experiences just after finishing their exams.</div><div><br /></div><div>Many who got engaged or married or gave birth or achieved significant milestones had to do it all alone, or with a select few. There was no opportunity to celebrate with community because doing so would be putting everyone in harm's way.</div><div><br /></div><div>For those who find joy in connecting with people through face to face interactions had to make adjustments, and learn the hard way that there are other ways to communicate and not just one they are comfortable with. </div><div><br /></div><div>Let's not even start with those who are single, and/or living alone by themselves. It has been a difficult year for them because there wasn't any opportunity to meet anyone for no reason at all. Many had to live an entire year without even touching anyone - neither for a hug or a handshake or even a kiss! In the years gone by, these would be considered normal forms of greeting, but today would seem rather hazardous when given to strangers or those not in one's bubble.</div><div><br /></div><div>As much as we are all learning to live with this level of inconvenience to the best of our ability, it is worthwhile to recognise that Christmas has also been a celebration of inconvenience. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was inconvenient for a virgin to be with child, and Mary must have felt discomfort in being pregnant even before she was married. It must have been inconvenient for Joseph to accept her as his wife even though he knew he wasn't responsible for her pregnancy. It was socially inconvenient for the lowly shepherds to be given the first news of the Messiah's birth, or for that matter, the inconvenience of having the Messiah to be born in a stable and not some elite enclave. There was also the added inconvenience of the Messiah's family tree to be filled with assorted scandalous characters, or to have him born in the region of the world that was quite the backwaters.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes the inconvenient does not make sense, but then again, it doesn't have to. We cannot expect to have answers to everything as much as we would like to be comforted by them. </div><div><br /></div><div>This Christmas season as we live with the inconvenience imposed on us, let us try and look at the bigger picture and simply trust that all this will soon pass.</div><div><br /></div><div><p></p><p><br /></p></div>Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-85932491572231241982020-12-20T22:51:00.002+03:002020-12-20T22:51:15.639+03:00Five Days to Christmas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglvfHz1ozff97eT-aiEAyXkysnxWmBl86lPWjzB1GBNDFMOLwSexZPojUkZNPTJtF9NdKzINOcv_xaU9eVxMJtactW0dFO3dPCApMYsT0lznxqKh1-17PSLBTRQx4cbExGBpE6eQ/s2048/0147D420-EA67-457A-BA45-95689544BA93.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglvfHz1ozff97eT-aiEAyXkysnxWmBl86lPWjzB1GBNDFMOLwSexZPojUkZNPTJtF9NdKzINOcv_xaU9eVxMJtactW0dFO3dPCApMYsT0lznxqKh1-17PSLBTRQx4cbExGBpE6eQ/s320/0147D420-EA67-457A-BA45-95689544BA93.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Today is my dad's birthday but he is not with us. The reality of his passing has yet to sink in, and so it feels rather strange to celebrate this day without having him around.<p></p><p>His absence is a painful reminder of how death impacts us at a deeper level, but then the memory of his presence has been so strong that it feels he is either in another room or that he is travelling somewhere.</p><p>I am aware that this sort of paradox is rather normal and expected since it implies that one has enjoyed being with the person who has passed on. It also means that grief doesn't necessarily come in clearly marked boxes but that it is fluid in nature and allows room for flexibility in making sense of it all.</p><p>Christmas may seem like an odd time to think of grief, but if one really ponders over the meaning of Christmas it may also seem to be the most appropriate topic to contemplate this season.</p><p>Mary was given an indication that being the mother of the Christ Child will not be an easy road for her, and that a 'sword will pierce her heart,' she was told. In that sense, Good Friday and Christmas go together because one can't have one without the other, and then there's Easter that comes in the end to remind us that all is not lost.</p><p>So as I remember my dad's birthday, there is that bittersweet reminder of loss but also a quiet assurance of resurrection that prompted Isaiah the prophet to ask, death, where is your sting?</p><p>As much as this grief is real for me, for my brothers and for our family and friends, I realise that this year we are sharing this ache with so many others who have also lost loved ones this year.</p><p>There is a certain pain that only those who have lost loved ones understand. This is because they know what it feels like to have an amputation done to the soul.</p><p>This kind of empathy is not restricted to a select few but COVID 19 has ensured that many more are dragged into its shadows. </p><p>Maybe the silver lining in all of this is that it would make humanity more compassionate but if history is any indicator then we know that's not going to be the case.</p><p>But we can hope for the best and see for ourselves if the shadows deepen or the silver linings increase</p><p>Only time will tell.</p><p></p>Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-12462377176365694062020-12-19T19:05:00.003+03:002020-12-19T22:01:48.278+03:00Six Days to Christmas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyIewH8n3wS2qleYui_fawIc28jxH1dXsp_j_tGo0cGqLl4gimaReps1c4kG3YeJGCzIaQpsjsZ6whOsCYnQc29HYngKrd400Q9bj0BOeeeEvDTv-l8HgaR2XMM1MimRBPP_dGdQ/s4000/A16F1D0C-6DE1-4D72-91FF-D63092CD83C6.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyIewH8n3wS2qleYui_fawIc28jxH1dXsp_j_tGo0cGqLl4gimaReps1c4kG3YeJGCzIaQpsjsZ6whOsCYnQc29HYngKrd400Q9bj0BOeeeEvDTv-l8HgaR2XMM1MimRBPP_dGdQ/w320-h240/A16F1D0C-6DE1-4D72-91FF-D63092CD83C6.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I don't imagine any of us expected to celebrate Christmas in the shadow of the 'new normal.' <p></p><p>Everything seems so unreal that we could just be living in a dystopian nightmare, and not 'real life' as we thought 2020 was going to be just a year earlier.</p><p>Our hopes for an extraordinarily happy new year has been replaced with precautionary measures for basic survival. It's as if the most important thing to do is to avoid getting infected rather than seeing how we score on our resolutions.</p><p>Now even the idea of a New Years resolution seems rather naive and pointless because even though some of us had long given up on the idea of resolutions, nevertheless, we still felt the idea wasn't bad at all.</p><p>This year, however, all that changed. Somehow cynicism sounded like common sense and pointlessness seemed like a wiser option.</p><p>It is hard to believe that only a year ago, the things that we are asked to avoid were considered normal and acceptable. It is hard to fathom that a shift took place in just a matter of weeks and has now stretched for months on end.</p><p>Now I'm not one of those who think that COVID-19 is part of some huge conspiracy and that we are all conned into accepting these changes. I do believe the science is pretty clear about the dangers of this virus, and the sensible thing to do is to listen to experts rather than agreeing with fear mongers.</p><p>What I do like to say though is that we can make a choice in recognising that the 'new normal' is just a temporary phenomenon, and that it is just a matter of time when we would be able to return to life as it once was... hopefully one where the lessons learnt about being healthy and safe are part of our lifestyle.</p><p>At least, that's what we can hope for though I have my doubts. I feel that once the vaccine does what it's supposed to do, we are most likely going to forget everything we've learnt this year and go back to living recklessly as we once did.</p><p>But then again, there's no harm hoping for the best, and expecting a better outcome come what may. We learnt this year that circumstances can change quickly - and so unexpectedly - that our world can change into something altogether unrecognisable.</p><p>What it means is that the temptation to give up on hope might seem strong but the desire to keep hope burning should remain incandescent as well. </p><p>So though we may not know how the next 12 months are going to be, let's hope for the best and trust God that we emerge unscathed by the pervasive negativity.</p>Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-80996238539244442522020-12-18T22:24:00.002+03:002020-12-18T22:43:10.202+03:00Seven Days to Christmas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6yARq5c2jVDiyqNA0ceh4ghf6Ittk-98YSqW7qJ6SZ24tszGdqJdRtiN5S10xIAzqKkePIO6DARtOW3e0LEmW88iYYrat_O13QI3RkObO6fSZAUsKna3x_p8hDNVnaopOdCh8Wg/s2048/E7C154FA-CD55-4296-9213-97F962339B4C.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6yARq5c2jVDiyqNA0ceh4ghf6Ittk-98YSqW7qJ6SZ24tszGdqJdRtiN5S10xIAzqKkePIO6DARtOW3e0LEmW88iYYrat_O13QI3RkObO6fSZAUsKna3x_p8hDNVnaopOdCh8Wg/w200-h150/E7C154FA-CD55-4296-9213-97F962339B4C.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><br />I had planned to repeat my<i> '12 days to Christmas</i>' series but then something or the other came up on December 14, and as a result, I couldn't post anything on that date.<p></p><p>I thought, maybe, I should skip it altogether, and simply focus on other things this year. There's more to do in life than continuing on with a tradition that I have neglected over the years. </p><p>Maybe I should just accept the fact that am not much of a blogger as I used to be, and maybe I shouldn't pressure myself to do something out of habit rather than passion.</p><p>But here's the thing. </p><p>I thought long and hard about it and realised that I do have a lot to talk about and share. It's not true that there isn't any passion left but rather there's more of it. </p><p>In fact, there are thoughts that are yearning to be articulated, and ideas that are craving expression. So if a twelve day countdown is no longer possible, why not find another? How about seven days? </p><p>And so here I am once more to my blogging board, and let's see how it goes.</p><p>2020 has been a rather exceptional year - probably one of those eventful years that we will not forget so easily. It has also been a year full of promises and a year filled with surprises and disappointments. </p><p>One thing for sure, no one is going to look back at 2020 and remain neutral about it. It's a year that will elicit strong emotions for generations to come.</p><p>And now that Christmas is here, it has forced people around the world to learn to celebrate differently. And perhaps in doing so, many of us are learning some hard truths about life, about festivities, about what really matters... and also, <i>why COVID-19 really sucks!</i></p><p>If one really goes to the heart of it, humanity as a species thrives on fellowship. We are at our best when we are together with others. We are social beings and are not created to sprout on our own. We need each other because that's how we grow and find our bearings.</p><p>It doesn't mean that solitude is not possible or even unfeasible. It means that even in our quest for solitude it is always something we pursue voluntarily rather than be forced to make a choice. </p><p>Thus, the idea of maintaining social distance - even physical distance - goes against what we are as a species. We cannot in essence maintain social distance and still expect to achieve the grand ambitions of life.</p><p>Then there is the question of touch. </p><p>One of the main precautionary measures as far as COVID 19 is concerned has been to avoid touching anyone - or anything. Thus, many of us have spent the best part of the year without shaking anyone's hands or even giving a hug. We have joyfully and willingly avoided the joy of being tactile, and called it survival skills.</p><p>In doing so, we have allowed ourselves to miss the warmth of discovering a handshake from strangers or hugs or kisses from friends. We have chosen to remain chronically untouched to protect ourselves from infection. </p><p>And when we think of Christmas, what's the one thing that comes to mind this time of the year? Christmas parties where we mingle in crowded spaces to enjoy a bit of merriment? Moments of hugging and kissing as a way of greeting those close to us - or those we want to be close to! Services in churches where we gather in large numbers and enjoy the chance of meeting and greeting loved ones? Or just being able to sing carols loudly and freely unmindful of particles floating in air? </p><p>As the number of cases keep escalating in various countries, the decisions we have to take go against what we are as a species. We realise that the road to survival for humanity is also the path of discomfort and inconvenience, and yet that's exactly what we have to do. </p><p>It's an odd place to be in but also the most necessary place to be in. In the end, it is also what loving our neighbour is all about - not in a mushy Hallmark greeting kind of way but as an act of agape in the truest and rawest sense. </p><p>Isn't that what Christmas is all about? </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-7695917095577741822020-08-15T22:24:00.003+03:002020-08-16T13:46:24.277+03:00Freedom<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj10O-DTbLNttmnoE9AaabwCgwDvrCOgCY36MvKU9Dj9BExZ_ERCZ6zT7A6tAvLk-xZD5PBUxk7D4idtxA2ao611qkKlz2vCyQN8zd5OZEToscY-hCkMBkPVGR_DzX65sgBCPch8A/s2048/IMG_3375.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj10O-DTbLNttmnoE9AaabwCgwDvrCOgCY36MvKU9Dj9BExZ_ERCZ6zT7A6tAvLk-xZD5PBUxk7D4idtxA2ao611qkKlz2vCyQN8zd5OZEToscY-hCkMBkPVGR_DzX65sgBCPch8A/s640/IMG_3375.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><b>Freedom</b> means not getting lynched for what's in your fridge or for what you like to eat...<p></p><p><b>Freedom</b> means not getting hounded for being different from others...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means being able to express one's frustrations without one's patriotism being questioned...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means not having to go to jail for ideas that some find disagreeable...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means being able to walk around freely no matter what time of the day or night without questions raised about your morality...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means being able to dress whatever one wants without the fear of what others may say...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means your upward mobility doesn't depend on your gender, caste, religion or socio-economic background...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means your privacy is fiercely protected and not bartered away...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means believing in whatever god you want to worship or not believing in any god at all...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means being able to share one's passions and core beliefs without your motives being questioned...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means being different is a matter of celebration and not a reason for persecution...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means being able to love or marry whoever you want without fearing death, persecution, humiliation or acid attack...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means your gender doesn't decide what areas of the city are unsafe or where or how long you should be out...</p><p><b>Freedom</b> means where human rights are not belittled and that of cows given greater priority...</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Freedom struggle. <i>The story continues.</i></b></p>Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-32945761542344648522020-07-10T14:59:00.002+03:002020-07-10T14:59:51.293+03:00A memory of sunset<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzvgDa1N9ciM5XzDLnFK6YxKNYN4ACBS161Mof5J3SRNcxcZ7tAUoz0PhCbDvMtCi0tjgqcW3PY0bTOZsSXGeRUmkH_3311GGar8ZHDMhwofVkOrQ6dqiOgrVFH9FnM9zXROftQ/s960/1194D30B-CB33-46CC-85EC-0CBDB9178CFE.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzvgDa1N9ciM5XzDLnFK6YxKNYN4ACBS161Mof5J3SRNcxcZ7tAUoz0PhCbDvMtCi0tjgqcW3PY0bTOZsSXGeRUmkH_3311GGar8ZHDMhwofVkOrQ6dqiOgrVFH9FnM9zXROftQ/s320/1194D30B-CB33-46CC-85EC-0CBDB9178CFE.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Sunsets will always remind me of Aai.</div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on">It will be one year today since she left us after being in hospital for over 45 days. We would meet her in the evenings, and could see the sunset from her window. </div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on">A few weeks later I was in New England and saw this sunset and it was so beautiful that I stood there mesmerised by its beauty. I remembered the sunsets from my mother’s window and how they seemed so much part of our daily life then, and now just a memory. This sunset, on the other hand, made me think of heaven and how it might be glorious beyond compare. </div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on">It made me wonder perhaps at that very moment as I was admiring this sunset on Chapin Beach, my mother might be experiencing something even more glorious and magnificent... the throne room of God Almighty perhaps. </div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on">Sunsets have that effect and in their own way open our eyes to the beauty of God’s creation and helping us catch a glimpse of his signature in the sky. But most crucially, they teach us that what we see as sunset is actually the dawn of a new day, a new beginning, a new life elsewhere.</div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" trbidi="on">Until we meet again, Aai... enjoy heaven!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>
Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-33632861603918422292019-12-25T11:20:00.001+03:002019-12-25T11:20:48.925+03:00Oh Christmas Day!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7_I-AP1aVqfTK86gqHinquQmMITRRxb4bPPMwqUMynsz97qanh5J3sa5a1iPSiokYrybkxdsQiJ885lbSt-U4nVvstsVng4VoNy5JGURGkMG4EcoYd-riGepjK2kphVUVsZdIA/s1600/37259BEF-52E8-4A93-AD21-EFF869243954.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1305" data-original-width="1305" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7_I-AP1aVqfTK86gqHinquQmMITRRxb4bPPMwqUMynsz97qanh5J3sa5a1iPSiokYrybkxdsQiJ885lbSt-U4nVvstsVng4VoNy5JGURGkMG4EcoYd-riGepjK2kphVUVsZdIA/s320/37259BEF-52E8-4A93-AD21-EFF869243954.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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So it’s Christmas Day finally and it feels strange to wake up at my family home and not having to greet my parents. This has been my habit and practise for as long as I remember that not being able to do so this years feels odd. There have been times when I was not home for Christmas but there was always that mandatory phone call or Christmas card or goodies sent across but this year all I have are memories.<br />
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Yes, there is something bittersweet about having to celebrate Christ’s birth so soon after the passing of my dad at the end of November. Somehow one feels that it’s bad timing or that it’s unfair or that it’s just an awful thing to happen but as am learning the hard way that such emotions are natural and expected when one is dealing with the loss of ones parents.<br />
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However, the Bible also talks about ‘being thankful at all times’ and as one explores that thought one realises ‘at all times’ means just that... at all times. Good times and bad times. Joyful moments and sad. Celebrations and bereavement. The entire gamut of what encompasses life and that can be a bitter pill to swallow when one is struggling to maintain ones balance.<br />
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Gratitude can be tricky in such situations and does require a step of faith because it involves walking through a deep fog and expecting not to bump into something or plunging headlong into an abyss. Faith requires such impossible steps because taking such small steps into the unknown can sometimes pave the way towards healing.<br />
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There is this naive assumption that faith is like a placebo and is expected to make things better almost like magic. Sadly, that’s not always the case. Sometimes the worst case scenario is exactly what we end up with, or for that matter, the thing we dreaded the most is what happens. So what do we do when that happens? Do we continue having faith because somehow things don’t end up the way we want them to be?<br />
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I don’t have answers to those questions since I struggle with them, too. However, I’m also learning that along with gratitude there’s also room for trusting God in the circumstances we find ourselves in. I guess, it involves recognising that God knows the big picture even though the situation in the short term might be causing us grief and heartbreak. What it really means is that faith is not the abracadabra route to having things our way but is about believing ‘all things work together for the good of them that love God and are called according to his purpose.’ Quite simply, it means that the bump in the road, the gash, the wound and the struggle is not the end of the road or the complete picture but rather it is just another step in the journey of life where God has promised to be with us till the end.<br />
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God’s presence is not meant to be an escape from difficulties but rather a reminder that we cannot wish difficulties away as they are part of life but there is also this assurance that we won’t be alone in facing the difficulties.<br />
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Thus, in our saddest moments we can reach out to him in gratitude and thank him that whatever we are going through is not something we are facing alone but he is with us. The other name for Christ is Immanuel - or God with us - and this serves as a reminder that as we struggle through life God is not somewhere far away and detached from all that matters but is here with us to calm us with his presence.<br />
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The birth of Christ in a manger shows that God is there at the most unexpected places and not always the way we want him to be. As some of us struggle with grief and bereavement, this birth of the Christ Child reveals that our greatest comfort at this time can be in knowing that he left his heavenly throne to be with us... and in doing so, he knows what it is to lose and what it is to suffer pain at a human level<br />
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Once we are on this road, we suddenly realise that our parents far from disappearing completely are now with him in the heavenly realms... probably celebrating Christmas in the holy of holies or worshipping along with the saints, apostles, prophets and martyrs down the centuries... a death though painful for us to accept on earth but for them a doorway to life in its fullest sense possible.<br />
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Now if we look at it this way, our grief turns to praise as we know they are in a much better place and that some day we will meet again... not just them but also Him whose birth on earth we celebrate today.</div>
Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-3025250776817363202019-12-24T19:58:00.000+03:002019-12-24T19:58:19.062+03:00Night Before Christmas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img alt="Bethlehem - Photo taken with my iPhone" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/5229/5797275329_617dc0fc37_b.jpg" style="display: block;" /><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/9662258@N02/5797275329">"Bethlehem - Photo taken with my iPhone"</a><span> by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/9662258@N02">Fabio - Miami</a></span> is licensed under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" style="margin-right: 5px;">CC BY-NC-SA 2.0</a><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="display: inline-block; height: 22px !important; margin-left: 3px; margin-top: 2px; white-space: none;" target="_blank"><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-by_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-nc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-sa_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /></a></div>
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As we reach the end of the 12 Day to Christmas series, I thought it would be best to go back to the beginning, and in this case, right at the very beginning of the Christmas story itself. I thought it would be best to highlight the account of Christ's birth as narrated by Luke in the gospel.<br />
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Yes, it is a bittersweet Christmas for my family this year, and yes, it will take a long time for us to come to terms with the pain, the sorrow and the anguish. However, there are slivers of light that shine in hope now and then... the gospels talk about the Savior's birth and it is this event that is being celebrated this season, but it is worthwhile to remember that Christ was known as Immanuel (or God with us).<br />
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For those of us who have been grieving it is a comfort to now that the Christ we worship is Immanuel, God with us. In other words, when we mourn he is with us, when we grieve he is with us, when we are in anguish he is with us, when we are in pain he is with us, and as we cry he is with us. His promise is to never leave nor forsake and that is what will hold us together through the challenges that lie ahead.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Luke 2: 1 - 21</span></b><br />
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<div class="chapter-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<i><span class="text Luke-2-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">In those days Caesar Augustus<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24975A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24975A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24975B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24975B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Luke-2-2" id="en-NIV-24976" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>(This was the first census that took place while<span class="footnote" data-fn="#fen-NIV-24976a" data-link="[<a href="#fen-NIV-24976a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">[<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+2&version=NIV#fen-NIV-24976a" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; color: #b34b2c; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</span> Quirinius was governor of Syria.)<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24976C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24976C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Luke-2-3" id="en-NIV-24977" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>And everyone went to their own town to register.</span></i></div>
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<i><span class="text Luke-2-4" id="en-NIV-24978" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24978D" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24978D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-5" id="en-NIV-24979" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24979E" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24979E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> and was expecting a child.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-6" id="en-NIV-24980" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born,</span> <span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.</i></div>
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<i><span class="text Luke-2-8" id="en-NIV-24982" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-9" id="en-NIV-24983" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>An angel<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24983F" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24983F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-10" id="en-NIV-24984" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24984G" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24984G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-11" id="en-NIV-24985" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>Today in the town of David a Savior<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24985H" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24985H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> has been born to you; he is the Messiah,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24985I" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24985I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> the Lord.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24985J" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24985J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Luke-2-12" id="en-NIV-24986" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>This will be a sign<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24986K" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24986K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”</span></i></div>
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<span class="text Luke-2-13" id="en-NIV-24987" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><i><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,</i></span></div>
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<i><span class="text Luke-2-14" id="en-NIV-24988" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>“Glory to God in the highest heaven,</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Luke-2-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">and on earth peace<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24988L" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24988L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> to those on whom his favor rests.”</span></span></i></div>
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<span class="text Luke-2-15" id="en-NIV-24989" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><i><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”</i></span></div>
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<i><span class="text Luke-2-16" id="en-NIV-24990" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24990M" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24990M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Luke-2-17" id="en-NIV-24991" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child,</span> <span class="text Luke-2-18" id="en-NIV-24992" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-19" id="en-NIV-24993" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24993N" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24993N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Luke-2-20" id="en-NIV-24994" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24994O" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24994O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.</span></i></div>
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<span class="text Luke-2-21" id="en-NIV-24995" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><i><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>On the eighth day, when it was time to circumcise the child,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24995P" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24995P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> he was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he was conceived.</i></span></div>
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Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-62362860919268854862019-12-24T18:06:00.000+03:002020-01-14T09:13:45.169+03:00The Mystery of Father Christmas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img alt="Santa Claus" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3258/3113398527_362df54829.jpg" style="display: block;" /><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/40988560@N00/3113398527">"Santa Claus"</a> by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/40988560@N00">Natashenka</a> is licensed under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" style="margin-right: 5px;">CC BY-NC-ND 2.0</a><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="display: inline-block; height: 22px !important; margin-left: 3px; margin-top: 2px; white-space: none;" target="_blank"><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-by_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-nc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-nd_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /></a></div>
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There are those who believe Santa Claus should have nothing to do with Christmas. They feel that the jolly old man has nothing to do with the original Christmas story, and symbolises everything that is wrong with the commercialised and secular nature of Christmas celebrations today. The argument goes that bringing in Santa Claus anywhere is tantamount to keeping Christ out of Christmas and denying the gospel account of the story.<br />
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Now I see the point behind this opposition since we see Santa Claus dashing through the malls and restaurants and clubs and schools and everywhere. He has become the most recognised symbol of the season and somehow there are those who seem to have more awareness of Santa Claus than the gospel account of the Christmas story.<br />
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On one hand it is understandable why this is the case since Christmas is celebrated not only by Christians alone but by others who don't share the same faith. Hence, it goes without saying that they would be adding elements that may not be familiar to those reared on the gospel account alone.<br />
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But there's also a slight problem here because Santa Claus was also inspired by the story of St Nicholas, a Christian monk based in modern day Turkey who was known for his generosity. It is also true that the modern Santa Claus had his origin in a Coca Cola campaign due to which the red and white became such prominent colours for the jolly old man.<br />
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Now the dilemma for some would be as to which of Father Christmas would you choose - St Nicholas of Turkey or Santa Claus of Coca Cola fame?<br />
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My take on this is very simple. We don't make a big deal out of it at all.<br />
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Now this doesn't mean we deny the gospel account but rather we embrace it fully and while doing so bring in all that is good and cheerful and merry about Father Christmas, Santa Claus or whatever you may want to call. We don't make him the centrepiece but rather just as a supporting cast in helping us understand what Christmas truly is.<br />
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Maybe there was a time when I would be more orthodox on the subject but my parents' passing this year has made me somewhat nostalgic about Christmases past and thus am seeing Santa Claus in an entirely different light. <br />
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As a child, my dad would often leave a present under the Christmas tree and I would get to see it early in the morning or right after we come home after the midnight Christmas eve service. I would be so thrilled to receive this present from "Christmas Father" and would wonder how on earth did he manage to sneak into Manama with his reindeers and sleigh. I always made a note that next year I would stay awake and be alert but next year I would forget and the cycle would continue.<br />
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Now my parents made it a point to teach me about Christ's birth and I was fully aware that Santa Claus was not the main hero of this season. I'm emphasizing this point because I know there are many who feel there cannot be a middle ground here. What I feel is that what my parents did offered a clue as to how one could mix the two without diluting the 'reason for the season.'<br />
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The other reason I am saying this is because children are bound to figure out one day or the other that Santa Claus doesn't exist. I found out at some point of time that it was my dad who was leaving those presents and not some old man on a reindeer without a flying permit. It is part of growing up that children eventually let go of things like Santa Claus and tooth fairies. It happens one day or the other but the point is what happens when that day comes... what does it leave behind as residue and how do children look back at all these memories.<br />
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Now that my dad is no more and Christmas is here, my thoughts are going back to those days when I - as a child - was thrilled to receive gifts from 'Father Christmas.' What I remember now and will cherish the most is how my parents made it a point to surprise me with gifts on Christmas. Today it makes the memory bittersweet because of their absence and poignant, too, since I unable to thank them for making Christmas morning so special.<br />
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At the end of the day, Santa Claus or Father Christmas is merely an idea. It is all about making beautiful memories for our children, and making those memories last a lifetime. Fact that there would be a surprise element in giving and receiving a gift can provide a learning opportunity since we don't claim to be the gift giver and hence we learn that sometimes it is OK not to claim credit for our gift giving if it involves watching our children squeal with delight.<br />
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Imagine the same sort of gift giving to someone else and we stay back and don't reveal that we are the ones who gave that generous gift.<br />
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I read somewhere that people rarely remember what we tell them but they will always recall how they felt. Looking back at my parents' love for me and my brothers, I may not remember each and every word of theirs but I do remember how joyful, secure and thrilled I have felt with the way they raised us, took care of us, loved us, and yes, surprised us now and then with these Father Christmas gifts.<br />
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So for those parents not sure what to do this Christmas eve, I would say go ahead and place that gift under the tree and watch them go berserk with joy. Christ will always be the reason for the season and that won't change but as your children outgrow Santa Claus they will remember how their parents gave them gifts but more than that... they will remember how their parents went out of their way to bring joy to their hearts.<br />
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After all, Christmas celebrations are all about memories, and so let's make it a point to turn them into pleasant memories. </div>
Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-78569530086667649372019-12-24T09:15:00.002+03:002020-01-14T09:12:51.058+03:00It Is Well With My Soul<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ReApJymYSiw" width="560"></iframe><br />
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I have heard this hymn so many times and also the story behind it. I can't imagine the pain and sorrow both of them must have gone through but it is encouraging to see the level of faith that they had despite the enormous suffering they experienced.<br />
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I felt that this hymn and story articulates what I am going through - along with the rest of my family. There is pain, there is anguish but there is also hope... sometimes the journey towards hope is not always straightforward, and many times, faith itself doesn't work like a formula.<br />
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We learn through great difficulty that the journey of a believing person is not paved with flowers but sometimes there are rocky paths that make it hard to move forward. In such circumstances our comfort is in knowing that the God we worship calls himself "Immanuel" (or God with us) and has promised never to leave us nor forsake us.<br />
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I guess, it also means that God has not promised to give us a life of ease but has assured us that no matter what we go through he is there with us.</div>
Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-62167359570792061202019-12-24T09:08:00.000+03:002020-01-14T09:11:37.371+03:00The Uncertain Fragility of Living<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img alt="Christmas Candle" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/1/38/80484490_6573fed353_b.jpg" style="display: block;" /><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/scingram/80484490/">"Christmas Candle"</a> by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/scingram/">Scott Ingram</a> is licensed under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" style="margin-right: 5px;">CC BY-NC 2.0</a><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="display: inline-block; height: 22px !important; margin-left: 3px; margin-top: 2px; white-space: none;" target="_blank"><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-by_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-nc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /></a></div>
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<i>But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish... </i><br />
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<i>(Isaiah 9: 1)</i><br />
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It takes the passing away of loved ones - more precisely, parents - for us to recognise the fragility of time. Somehow their going away brings into sharp focus a sense of deep loss we feel along with a sense of bewilderment at how soon their passing has taken place.<br />
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A friend said to me that no matter when your parents pass away - whether it be on the actual<br />
date or even 10 or 20 years later or even when we ourselves have turned elderly - it is always too soon!<br />
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Somehow we feel that they need to be with us forever and when mortality rears its ugly head and snatches them away we are surprised, perplexed and taken aback. Maybe in the exact same way that a little boy would feel when his lunch box has been stolen by a bully while he is still eating. Somehow we feel it was unfair and that makes us somewhat angry and upset.<br />
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This is not how we thought life was going to be. We felt that our parents would be with us for a long, long time. Although the very thought is somewhat irrational we always felt that the miracle of modern medicine and healthcare might just extend their days and there would be some way or the other to have them with us for as long as it's possible.<br />
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But then the inevitable takes place and we are faced with the reality of a broken heart, a grieving spirit and a soul in deep mourning.<br />
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Our heart starts wrestling with so many thoughts and questions: why did it happen and why so soon? Was there something we could have done? How will we manage life now that they are not around?<br />
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Somehow it's the last question that makes us ponder over the idea of time. As long as our parents are with us we feel that the precious moments will last forever even though there's that little thought telling us that may not be the case.<br />
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So we assume that things will just go on exactly the way they have always been and we adjust our lives accordingly. We don't do things with a sense of panic that utters, oh gosh, we got so little time with them... must pack in as much as we can in the little time we have.<br />
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What we do instead is pace things up without rushing, and take things slowly - every moment, every conversation, every meal, and every activity is conducted with the assurance of a tomorrow being shared.<br />
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And so as we share the prospect of a Christmas without them, we are troubled by that possibility. For our entire lives, we have never imagined there would ever be a Christmas without them. Somehow we have felt that Christmas celebrations go hand in hand with them around and so all of a sudden their absence makes it hard for us to celebrate.<br />
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We are left with a feeling of gloom and are deeply anguished, and in doing so, we somehow inadvertently find ourselves feeling deeply connected with the Christmas story. Isaiah the prophet spoke about the birth of the Messiah and said that his coming would be such that there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish.<br />
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He then goes on to say that those who walked in darkness have seen a great light, and as we worship and celebrate the birth of the One who called himself the 'light of the world' we can take comfort in knowing that he knows our anguish, understands our pain and is there to lighten the darkness we find ourselves in. </div>
Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-73753055667246604932019-12-23T17:18:00.000+03:002020-01-14T09:10:18.516+03:00The Paradise of 'what-if'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>What if...</i><br />
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We are somehow able to go back in time and make things OK, or at least, make some adjustments that would restore things the way they were before the tragedies began their march. At what point of time would we want to go? Would we prefer sometime before our loved one was rushed to the hospital? Or would we go further back when the illness was manageable or even treatable?<br />
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Would such a journey back in time help make things better? Would our loved one be with us today if we had tinkered a little bit with the past?<br />
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As we approach Christmas and are faced with the absence of our loved ones such questions acquire a certain urgency and at the same time reveal pain and helplessness at the same time.<br />
<br />
Christmas is a time for family and loved ones to be together, and so why shouldn’t one wish for the company of those who passed away this year? Why should this kind of longing seem sad and ridiculous when at its core is a simple desire for normalcy? Isn't it normal to have our parents, grandparents, siblings, children, nephews and nieces and other close friends all around us during Christmas?<br />
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Obviously, our sane and rational side kicks in and dismisses all such desires as wishful thinking and unnecessary. How can someone who has passed away come back? And then there are those who are spiritual who would very quickly and easily dismiss these desires as equally unreasonable and borderline unspiritual. Doesn’t the Bible talk about the possibility of meeting our loved ones in heaven or that they are now in the company of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ? Shouldn’t you be happy for them or at least be patient?<br />
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For those who grieve no answer can completely satisfy or even address the void we feel within. We know the facts and we know the science and yes we know our scripture, too. However, it’s not the facts that comfort us since facts by their very nature are unable to offer any balm. They are just there like stones on the road What we long for is beyond facts. What we desire is to restore the intangible thread that connects us with our loved ones, and we hope that in doing so it would somehow bring them back and make everything normal as it should be.<br />
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The trouble is that we are immediately confronted with certain realities that we can't really avoid. For us to be really comfortable with this kind of wishful thinking we have to let go of that which somehow defines our species -- we are meant to be rational creatures and hence can't be given to such feverish imagination; we are meant to be social animals and thus cannot be occupied with thoughts of those who are not with us; and then, finally, we are meant to be spiritual beings and are expected to find comfort in knowing our loved ones are with God and we will be meeting them again when we pass on.<br />
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And yet, no matter how much we are able to rationalise and intellecutalise and spiritualise, we still grieve and ache and feel the void in ways that we cannot articulate. It is just a burden that feels so heavy and yet we hold on to it because we feel that doing so would make things better. We feel that it would somehow clarify things for us and make sense of that which seems too devastating for words.<br />
<br />
The simplest thing to do is often the hardest and somehow it takes a while for us to realise that it is natural and normal for us to feel this way. We don't have to follow a particular format when it comes to mourning because it never works that way. We just need to give ourselves time to work out the complexities on our own and in our own way. Doing so will help us heal - or at least we hope it does - but if not, at least, it will allow us to bring to surface all that is lurking within.<br />
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In the meantime, as it's Christmas, we can take solace in the words of Him whose birth we celebrate this season - <i>blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted. </i></div>
Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-43928816022966046732019-12-22T08:17:00.003+03:002022-09-13T14:56:08.320+03:00Journey of the Magi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qyas4QpWM-E" width="320" youtube-src-id="qyas4QpWM-E"></iframe></div><br /><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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“A cold coming we had of it,</div>
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Just the worst time of the year</div>
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For a journey, and such a long journey:</div>
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The ways deep and the weather sharp,</div>
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The very dead of winter.”</div>
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And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,</div>
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Lying down in the melting snow.</div>
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There were times we regretted</div>
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The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,</div>
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And the silken girls bringing sherbet.</div>
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Then the camel men cursing and grumbling</div>
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And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,</div>
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And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,</div>
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And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly</div>
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And the villages dirty and charging high prices:</div>
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A hard time we had of it.</div>
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At the end we preferred to travel all night,</div>
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Sleeping in snatches,</div>
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With the voices singing in our ears, saying</div>
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That this was all folly.</div>
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Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,</div>
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Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;</div>
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With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,</div>
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And three trees on the low sky,</div>
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And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.</div>
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Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,</div>
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Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,</div>
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And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.</div>
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But there was no information, and so we continued</div>
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And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon</div>
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Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.</div>
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All this was a long time ago, I remember,</div>
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And I would do it again, but set down</div>
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This set down</div>
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This: were we led all that way for</div>
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Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,</div>
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We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,</div>
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But had thought they were different; this Birth was</div>
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Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.</div>
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We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,</div>
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But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,</div>
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With an alien people clutching their gods.</div>
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I should be glad of another death.</div>
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Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-10406935979062843782019-12-22T08:06:00.000+03:002020-01-14T09:08:39.768+03:00Christmas in the Trenches<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Sometimes when we are going through a period of melancholy, a story of hope can make a huge difference. A story that shows that despite the grimness of war there was a tiny flicker of light that showed that peace can burn even in hearts that were cold.<br />
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The story of Christmas is of that kind of hope, and yet, for many of us it is also a reminder of pleasant days, happier days, of days when hope was not a dream but part of the everyday.<br />
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I have always been fascinated by the story of Christmas in the trenches because of how it conveyed that peace is a universal hunger and involves not signing of papers but sharing laughter, drinks and football. It involves breaking down of barriers not through some treaty but because of the will of ordinary individuals who cannot bear to live in the shadow of hate and war.<br />
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For those of us who are grieving this Christmas, the story provides a poignant touch since we are aware that the young soldiers who were celebrating Christmas that night were all prepared to die for their countries. Who knows some of the soldiers never returned to their homes and families and maybe some did and were able to share what happened that night.<br />
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I imagine that just as some of us are mourning for our loved ones, the families of these solders would have done the same since they never returned home or if they did it was probably in a box. We have been so used to associate Christmas with joyful celebration that sometimes it's hard to connect the festival with sadness and grief.<br />
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But the truth is, there has always been that shadow right from the beginning - a baby boy was born in Bethlehem might have seemed like a reason to celebrate but there was also that other dimension to that baby boy's life. Crucifixion was very much part of his mission and though the resurrection seemed like a happy ending but nevertheless there was the painful and sordid experience of torture, sham trial and crucifixion.<br />
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We love to celebrate and yet there is also that faint reminder that the reasons we celebrate was also made possible through suffering on the cross. The new life through resurrection might be reason enough to rejoice but there was a process... Easter had to follow Good Friday and without these two, Christmas is quite meaningless. After all, to celebrate Jesus one has to embrace all three together and then understand that the love he talks about is not mushy but comes with considerable depth.<br />
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So when we approach Christmas with our grieving hearts we are not out of synch with the realities of the celebration but in fact we are doing so in the true spirit of the festivities. All we understand is that though there is pain and weeping there is also a peace that passes all understanding since he is also called the Prince of Peace.<br />
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Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-34825402707170431792019-12-21T08:24:00.000+03:002020-01-14T09:07:20.339+03:00The Fate of an Oracle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img alt="Christmas" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7141/6478693961_d186108a57_b.jpg" style="display: block;" /><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/37996635315@N01/6478693961">"Christmas"</a> by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/37996635315@N01">scottfidd</a> is licensed under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" style="margin-right: 5px;">CC BY-NC-SA 2.0</a><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="display: inline-block; height: 22px !important; margin-left: 3px; margin-top: 2px; white-space: none;" target="_blank"><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-by_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-nc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-sa_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /></a></div>
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Sometimes it’s a blessing that we cannot look into the future.<br />
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I wonder how we would be able to handle life if we were fully aware of what is going to take place, or have a clear foreknowledge of what will happen to people we love <i>and</i> <i>when. </i>I wonder what will we do if we also get an inkling that no matter how grim the future is going to be we will not be able to do anything about it but have to simply learn to accept whatever happens.<br />
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I guess, if we cannot do anything that could rectify a potentially horrible situation we are most likely going to regard this gift as a curse rather than a blessing. What's the point of knowing the future if we can't tinker around to ensure the best possible outcome for ourselves and those we love?<br />
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However, we don't need to be an oracle to have a sprinkling of prescience. There are certain things in life that we are well aware of, and yet we like to remain in denial as long as it's possible only to be taken aback when the eventual becomes a reality.<br />
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Sometimes the awareness of the future is not necessarily about specifics the way fortune tellers do. Sometimes there's the larger picture filled with myriad possibilities that are quite obvious and yet not the kind we want to accept<br />
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Last years' family group picture at Christmas for instance. How many of us look at such photos and think of mortality not as an abstract concept but as an eventuality? How many of us think of such photos with the notion that however beautiful and picture-perfect those moments may be - they may not last forever!<br />
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The idea that life is transient is a fact but not something that we like to accept but we do so reluctantly anyway. Somehow it's the nature of life that makes us to do so because no matter how much in denial we may be the reality does encroach and suddenly we find one or two people missing from the pictures.<br />
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Sometimes sickness or accident or injury or some calamity snatches our loved ones. We pray and hope for the best, and sometimes what eventually happens is not something we want or wish. It shakes our world like never before and we are no longer the same. We feel that this is an unfair and undesirable situation even though deep down we know that this is how life is and we need to come to terms with it.<br />
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We can be realistic and say that everyone passes away and we don't need to be a fortune teller to know this fact. We just know and yet we place this thought at the back of our mind and keep it under lock and key. It's better this way, we think, and carry on with life as if everything is just perfect.<br />
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In a way it is good that we don't live with this dread all the time... that we don't live like pessimistic prophets who live on a diet of the worst case scenarios because doing so would rob us of the passion to live and enjoy life to its fullest.<br />
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If we think that nothing will last forever we resign ourselves to fate, and that somehow, we rob ourselves of the blessings life brings in living. It is not running away from reality but about seeing how best we can live life, make the most of what we have with the little time available, and see people we love as treasures worth cherishing rather than as transient beings.<br />
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Festivals like Christmas can serve as rude reminders when people we love are no longer around, or that some in a group picture are no longer with us. We can be heartbroken and that's perfectly normal. We can be devastated and that's ok, too. We can grieve and that's part of the journey as well.<br />
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All we can do is ponder over the Christmas story and remember what it is said of Him whose birth we celebrate this season.<br />
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<i>'Where, O death, is your victory?</i><br />
<i>Where, O death, is your sting?'</i><br />
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<i>The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. </i><br />
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(1 Corinthians 16: 55-57)</div>
Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-54969410718214818292019-12-20T07:50:00.000+03:002020-01-14T08:59:18.772+03:00Picture Perfect Christmas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9GE2monKb8nxvrR7xaLymMuGQ-CkT6HKDXa8ylXhLxi_3a8CDOV7w2p8e5U47vY_ZTb_3FKDvxV4SLWyBPcSsmaBkMG98cH_fzBBL6JKWTX0jdEZ75JI-4O65ZxtR4mcZKbyfg/s1600/IMG_9636.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1160" data-original-width="1600" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9GE2monKb8nxvrR7xaLymMuGQ-CkT6HKDXa8ylXhLxi_3a8CDOV7w2p8e5U47vY_ZTb_3FKDvxV4SLWyBPcSsmaBkMG98cH_fzBBL6JKWTX0jdEZ75JI-4O65ZxtR4mcZKbyfg/s400/IMG_9636.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I was looking at a crib early this evening. Placed at a table in a corner, the nativity scene was beautifully presented with the small figures of Joseph and Mary looking at the baby Jesus lying in a tiny manger. An assortment of tiny animal figurines were scattered giving the crib a certain rustic charm that was accentuated by the faux grass and the wooden frames.<br />
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Purists would likely be appalled to see the shepherds and the three wise men jostling for space in the crib. The gospel accounts mention that the shepherds and the wise men met the baby Jesus separately - and for all account, it could have been after a gap of a year or so. Whatever be the case, having both of them in the same scene may not match the gospel narrative to the dot but it does make the crib picture-perfect though.<br />
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Almost like a picture in a family photo album. The kind of picture we enjoy taking during Christmas -- of everyone together, of everyone smiling happily as if that moment will last forever, of everyone trying to fit in anyone who was there who made the year special.<br />
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In a way a crib captures just this very sentiment the same way a group picture does for most of us.... a crib tries to tell the Christmas story in a nutshell with all the main actors around and makes for a good centerpiece or decoration. A picture on the other hand - at least a good one - ends up being framed and stays on the wall or a table for a long time to come.<br />
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Those pictures remind us of good times and of Christmases that were special and meaningful. We look at them and don't just see the faces but also that moment - of all the drama of fitting everyone in that single frame and adjusting and jostling to ensure everyone is there. We smile at the memory because it captures so much of our idea of what a perfect Christmas ought to be.<br />
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Christmas is very much a family thing because each year that we celebrate we do so with people who are close to us - parents, siblings, spouses, grandparents, uncles and aunts as well as dear friends who are as close as family. Yes, we celebrate our Saviour's birth but we also do so with people we love and who make our lives special. The crib tells us what the Christmas story was all about, and the family pictures remind us of the love shared and made stronger with time.<br />
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In a way, both are images of love. The crib touches upon the thought that 'God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son...' and then when we see the family pictures we are reminded of the love that extends between family members and friends. Both give us a sense of gratitude and a sense of calm because love does that. It gives us a sense of gravity knowing we are loved and that there are people in our lives who matter, and whose presence makes all the difference to what we are.<br />
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And if there are people in the pictures who are no longer with us, there is a certain poignancy that we can't fully explain. We are sad, yes, because they are absent in our lives today but we are also grateful that they lived their lives, gave us their love and are now on a different journey, celebrating Christmas with their Savior.<br />
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But for those of us who are left behind, the pictures are reminders of what love was, how it felt to be loved unconditionally, and how to use that love to reach out to others. Christmas provides a clue to those who may feel a bit shaken... the answers to our grief may not always be in black and white but as long as our eyes are on the Babe in the manger whose name is Immanuel - or God with us - we will know that we don't have to struggle on our own. The struggle need not be a lonely journey into the unknown but a walk with a God who said, <i>never will I leave you or forsake you.</i><br />
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Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-2751685211427235962019-12-17T23:00:00.001+03:002020-01-14T08:57:36.707+03:00La Pieta<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img alt="IMG_5067" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/3471/3779743955_cae70ce60e_b.jpg" style="display: block;" /><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/43374661@N00/3779743955">"IMG_5067"</a> by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/43374661@N00">adpal3180</a> is licensed under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" style="margin-right: 5px;">CC BY-NC-ND 2.0</a><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="display: inline-block; height: 22px !important; margin-left: 3px; margin-top: 2px; white-space: none;" target="_blank"><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-by_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-nc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-nd_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /></a></div>
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I wonder what would have been Mary's response if the angel Gabriel had told her that the Messiah --whose mother she was going to be -- was to be tortured, hung on a cross and die a cruel death at the hands of the ruling elite.<br />
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Would she have demonstrated the same degree of quiet trust that we've read about in the gospel account, or would she have waited for some additional details and shown this trust only after learning about Christ's resurrection and eventual ascension?<br />
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Maybe hearing about Christ's glory would have made it easier to digest the bits about his suffering. Perhaps it would have lessened the pain knowing all of this is temporary.<br />
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We have no idea what really went through Mary's mind but I imagine she already had enough on her plate for her to start worrying about the future. She wasn't sure how her fiancé Joseph was going to take this news even though she was fully aware that what was happening to her was a God thing.<br />
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Sometimes hearing from God has its limits: he may have spoken to you and you may heard him loud and clear but will others get it the way you do? And when they don't, and accuse you of being delusional, how do you respond to that?<br />
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One of the reasons why I like Michaelangelo's <i>La Pieta</i> (pictured here) is because it somehow captures what I imagine must be going through Mary's mind. There is something purely maternal the way she is cradling Christ's body and gives us a glimpse of how she may have carried Jesus when he was two or three years old.<br />
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I am sure there must have been times when she found the idea of being the mother of the Messiah too much... not just in matters of trying to wrap her mind around how this young child will one day be the Savior of the world, but also, how will all this impact their family life? Will she and Joseph be able to take care of him when the child becomes a Man? If this Child is indeed the Messiah, shouldn't he be the one she must rely on for protection? How will he do that?<br />
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He's just a child and yet so much more.<br />
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Now after a night of betrayal, torture and crucifixion, the story seemed to have reached a tragic end, and Mary must have wondered what the angel Gabriel meant when he said that the Child will be the Savior. How will he save the world now in this state? He used to drop hints about resurrection in many of his teachings but that would be a miracle... will they experience such a miracle soon?<br />
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Mary was familiar with miracles having been the first to experience a virgin birth but that was different because she actually heard from God herself. Now she will have to do what Jesus had been telling his disciples to do, that is, have faith and believe.<br />
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As she held the body close to her, all these thoughts may have ceased to matter because now at this point of time, it was just a matter of a mother holding her child even though this mother Mary was fully human while the child Jesus was fully human and fully divine. <br />
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Simeon the aged prophet had talked about a sword piercing through Mary's heart and she must have remembered those words as she held him close and grappled with the grief she was going through. The questions must be pressing hard on her mind - why do I have to face this? Is there no other way I can avoid the sword? Why does God's big plan include such big sorrow and heartbreak? Is there a ray of hope somewhere? How long will this dark night last?<br />
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As I look at <i>La Pieta</i> as we approach the Christmas season, I am reminded of its similarity to cribs that we see in many houses. In the cribs we see an infant lying in a manger while <i>La Pieta</i> shows the Suffering Savior lying on Mary's lap... in the first, he's just a babe with a hint of the Saviour he is going to be in a few years time, and now in the second, he is lying dead but resurrection will be happening soon in a matter of days.<br />
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For Mary and for many of us who might be going through difficulties and challenges, it might be hard to fathom that the current situation - however painful - is just a momentary pause and a stepping stone for something beautiful and miraculous. The present pain may seem too difficult to handle and to realize that this too will pass may require faith that moves mountains.<br />
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And yet, at the end of the day, this is exactly what is required and we soon learn that Advent is more than burning four candles but all about waiting.... waiting for sunrise after a long dark night, waiting for laughter after a period of overwhelming sorrow, waiting for a breakthrough after a lifetime of disappointments, waiting for light after being wrapped in darkness for too long, waiting for a Saviour after living helpless for what seemed forever.<br />
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Even so, come Lord Jesus, come.<br />
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Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-14087300260835465912019-12-16T15:15:00.002+03:002023-12-08T01:31:58.124+03:00The Road to Annunciation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GACJQigzNLX83N6TLT8DPzLXprnU7zV9aSxpaGucH8yzyk9NbR0XFVNp4ZPn533S3NnGD9vOP9Ljk2fKW5x06w0Brh3HlouG4-nE4IogG3iUbM1-FyH6nYeeYG1-5UT3n2ixGR-JC7yhVXl_0BOJwSVTL_wBTvXRYCfbwLT-0Cw-l0o6EdE/s800/39123520162_1e732b3643_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="647" data-original-width="800" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GACJQigzNLX83N6TLT8DPzLXprnU7zV9aSxpaGucH8yzyk9NbR0XFVNp4ZPn533S3NnGD9vOP9Ljk2fKW5x06w0Brh3HlouG4-nE4IogG3iUbM1-FyH6nYeeYG1-5UT3n2ixGR-JC7yhVXl_0BOJwSVTL_wBTvXRYCfbwLT-0Cw-l0o6EdE/s320/39123520162_1e732b3643_c.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Painting by Francesco Granacci (1506/7) - MOMA, NYC</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="font-size: 0.9rem; font-style: italic;"><br /></div><div style="font-size: 0.9rem; font-style: italic;"> </div>
There is a tendency to view Christmas as a happy event - a time of merriment, laughter and joy.<br />
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Most of the carols we sing express the same thought, retail outlets and restaurants come up with the best offers possible to make the festivities even more enjoyable and fun, and a walk through the malls will give the impression that we are now entering a season of perpetual gladness.<br />
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Now it's true that there is a certain degree of joy in the festivities but then that is the case of all festivals in general -- they are a time that brings families together, a time to celebrate with one another, a time to eat without guilt and a time to make memories with those near and dear ones. Christmas is one such festival that has taken this idea to the next level and is considered to be the high point in the commercial calendar as much as it is in the ecclesiastical.<br />
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Somehow Christmas has been so closely and deeply associated with feelings of happiness that there is a degree of optimism all around that one normally cannot find rest of the year. You just need to watch any of those Christmas specials on TV and the overpowering sweetness can be hard to miss.<br />
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However, if one looks closely at the Christmas story, we will realise that the gospel account presents a completely different picture where we learn that it wasn't exactly the happiest of moments for some of its key players.<br />
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Elizabeth had to grapple with the embarrassment of being pregnant with John the Baptist at a ripe old age. I wonder what kind of looks she must have got by the women in the neighbourhood or wonder what kind of nods Zechariah would have got from his friends.<br />
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Mary was told that she would give birth to the promised Messiah even though she was a virgin. It's not hard to imagine what that would have meant for an unwed girl or for that matter to her parents. The shame of an unwed mother is a problem in many traditional societies as much as it was in the first century Palestine.<br />
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Joseph learnt that his fiancee was pregnant and to make matters worse, she claimed that she heard from God that it was going to be a miracle birth, and that she would be the mother of the Messiah. I am sure Joseph would have liked to believe her but the idea of a virgin birth seemed not only ridiculous but also heartbreaking... was she unfaithful to him? That thought must have prompted him to seek a separation till God himself had to intervene and let Joseph know that Mary was speaking the truth.<br />
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Then we have the shepherds who heard the message from the angels, and I wonder who paid attention to them. They were after all not exactly the town elite and so there was no reason for them to be taken seriously. <br />
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If we look at each of these characters, they all had to undergo a trial by fire before they were able to emerge victorious. It was hard for them and no one would have blamed them if they had given up because the situation they were in was such that it required tremendous faith for them to carry on.<br />
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I am sure they had questions as to why were they placed in such a situation and they didn't have immediate answers. Those of us who are facing a different Christmas this year, one without our loved ones... we may have our own questions, too. There is pain all around that we can't understand. There is a difficulty we are undergoing that seems quite incongruous to the mood of the season. There is laughter and merriment all around but we cannot relate to all that mirth. <br />
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We have questions and am sure just like those characters in the gospels we would prefer a different scenario. Sadly, that's not an option we can choose. However, what we can do is learn from what these characters did... they trusted even though it made no sense to do so and their reward was far greater than they imagined. </div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Image Credit</b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: italic;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/paullew/39123520162/in/photolist-22Bdgv5-28VivkW-2kJyBqA-rS6pER-8ppR6H-2mK7qgw-RB3ZXS-6Pf8Ku-2km5Xdp-2nqfiZu-9gttAv-2jHgLcA-f9Aw23-bdsfg-Pw3kNC-cnxkcd-MU845c-nNyTmU-iDcLkM-262Q3Lv-2kJqdBj-2kLTv7M-SkT6Jk-2kLPKC5-2dpo3NA-2kK1UiG-2kK6ioz-rSQWA3-5VwkBB-2jfRoCX-bvkJrx-4G42xg-TCGqCo-27kL8Gu-XVgPmP-23qqi1p-EpZYBq-LSKriV-vhKi1n-rAmEHK-Y5gA6i-282Ry5t-224jbWo-9SYRXA-EWA585-vSJ1nd-2gRAu2w-KMTA4s-qDam3R-YE1VKW">Annunciation to Zechariah</a> by </span><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/paullew/" style="font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: italic;">Lawrence P</a><span style="font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: italic;"> is licensed under </span><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" style="font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: italic; margin-right: 5px;">CC BY-NC-SA 2.0</a><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="display: inline-block; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: italic; height: 22px; margin-left: 3px; margin-top: 2px; white-space: none;" target="_blank"><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-by_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-nc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-sa_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /></a></div>
Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-52519435493698609412019-12-14T17:52:00.001+03:002019-12-15T07:22:52.054+03:0012 Days to Christmas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img alt="Christmas candles" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5672/22937856864_0ab46c9614_b.jpg" style="display: block;" /><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/58883622@N02/22937856864">"Christmas candles"</a> by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/58883622@N02">Markus Grossalber</a> is licensed under <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" style="margin-right: 5px;">CC BY 2.0</a><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/?ref=ccsearch&atype=html" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="display: inline-block; height: 22px !important; margin-left: 3px; margin-top: 2px; white-space: none;" target="_blank"><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /><img src="https://search.creativecommons.org/static/img/cc-by_icon.svg" style="display: inline-block; height: inherit; margin-right: 3px;" /></a></div>
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It has been a while since I wrote anything in my blog on a regular basis, and it has been even longer since I worked on my Christmas diaries. It must have been 2008 when I began what became an annual ritual but for some reason I stopped. It wasn't just the Christmas diaries that sputtered to a halt but even my blogging became rather sporadic and then reduced to a few.<br />
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This year I thought I should make a return to the Christmas diaries, and felt I should do so on the 12th day to Christmas... <i>just like the good old days!</i><br />
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There is a certain deja vu to the diaries this year. In 2008, my parents were in India and so it was the first Christmas without them in Bahrain. It felt odd but we knew they were just a phone call away and so on Christmas day we called them up and told them how much we missed them here and also how happy we were that they were able to celebrate with my other siblings and their families in India.<br />
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This year when I decided to return to the Christmas diaries my parents are not with me again but this time their absence is made more poignant by the fact that they have both 'gone to be with the Lord' in a space of just four months of each other. What this means is that unlike 2008 they are not a phone call away and neither are they in some distant land that would require purchasing of an airline ticket to meet them.<br />
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We can imagine they are somewhere else and thus spare ourselves some heartbreak but we would be fooling ourselves if we do that but fact remains that this will be the first Christmas without them and that in itself will probably make this the hardest Christmas for me and my family.<br />
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All our lives we have associated Christmas with merriment, festivities and joy, and we are also inundated with songs that scream, 'this is the most wonderful time of the year.' However, when we are faced with grief and bereavement the merriment associated with Christmas seems more heartbreaking since we are reminded each time of the aching void we feel because the two people we love the most are not with us... these two people who for our entire lives epitomized the very idea of Christmas festivities are no longer present and that makes celebration somewhat harder. <br />
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So the question is, do we celebrate because they are not here? Or if we decide to pause, how long should this pause last - a year or two? Or till we get over it? Do we really go over it? <br />
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I guess, there are no simple answers to these questions... the loss of parents is a deep wound that can last a lifetime, and pausing celebration may not completely address the pain we feel. We are not likely to get over this loss and the pain will continue in some degree or the other. In some ways, we will have to learn how to live with this new reality and discover the hidden blessings like spotting silver linings in dark clouds.<br />
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In some ways, the first Christmas can point to a better understanding of how we can celebrate when all we want to do is cry our lungs out because our parents are not with us. At a certain level when we say that they have 'gone to be with the Lord' we need to rejoice in that fact because they are now in a much better place and in the company of Him whom they have loved and worshipped their entire lives.<br />
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We will learn slowly but surely that their absence is not a complete extinction of their selves but simply a journey to another realm where we will meet them again after having 'moved on', so to speak. It is during such times that we will also come to grips with how to deal with death - is it really a finality and a point of no return or should we use this moment to re-examine the Easter story where Christ conquered death and became the 'resurrection and the life'?<br />
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If we say we believe our creed, we must ask ourselves: is it only applicable when things are going right in our lives? Shouldn't they be relevant - <i>and true</i> - even when we re facing grief, loss and suffering?<br />
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Faith as we all know is a journey and John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress has shown that it is not always a smooth road. We all have questions - these days I have lots of them - but am also reminded that when Christ's birth was announced he was described as Immanuel, which means God with us.<br />
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In other words, as we walk this road of life in our pain and our grief, God is not hiding somewhere up in the sky but he is with us on the road... walking with us, shielding us with his presence, and whispering to us these words that he spoke to his disciples and also to us:<br />
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<i>Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid (John 14:27)</i><br />
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Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-70345517914147859722019-11-02T12:13:00.002+03:002020-01-14T04:36:38.774+03:00Fellowship of Sighs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's the eyes that reach out at first. A brief glance that stays on a little longer followed by a nod. It's a glance that wants to say something more but at that singular moment words seem useless and unnecessary, and thus, there's a sigh that seems to last forever followed by a hand raised upward as if in prayer.<br />
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<i>Allah Karim</i><br />
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The word literally means, God is most generous and that remembering Him draws out wonder, praise, thanks and joy. Here in the intensive care unit of the hospital where we are, it also means a cry for help, a cry of helplessness, a cry of complete surrender to God's kindness and generosity in turning the situation around. Perhaps in ways that will demonstrate God's mercy in hearing our prayer for healing our loved ones and restoring them to good health.<br />
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<i>Allah Karim</i><br />
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We all say it as if by impulse but never as a second thought. We want to mean it and believe in it and see for ourselves that the health of our loved one is not determined by what the monitor says but by a greater hand whose power brought creation into being by a mere word.<br />
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<i>Could you do the same for us now, O Lord, and speak your life into this situation.... and please, please, please heal our mother soon!</i><br />
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The desperation is there but we conceal it somehow because there are others around who may falter when they see us falling apart. We don't want them to feel weakened or discouraged but want to do everything in our power to encourage them and provide some ray of hope. <i>It'll be ok. Don't worry, it's just a matter of time and we'll be back home... like normal.</i><br />
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If truth be told and if we really have to scratch the surface, it gets painfully clear that the only reason we want to conceal this desperation is because we don't want anyone to see us in this sad, pathetic and vulnerable state. We want them to see us strong and capable of handling anything like Superman! We see even the slightest trace of vulnerability to be our kryptonite that will shatter the edifice we have created.<br />
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Somehow we feel that the moment we allow our emotions to be uncaged it might somehow affect the treatment and impede the speedy recovery of our loved ones. It is this naive assumption that it is our resistance to bawl like babies that is keeping our loved ones alive... that it is this occasional sighing that is actually pumping the oxygen through the ventilator...helping our loved one to breathe and live. Just to make sure that this strategy works, we mix our sighing with prayers along with helpful scripture verses for added impact. <br />
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The sigh becomes helpful in such a situation and could be therapeutic even, or so we like to think. We are worried that any emotion that indicates a different turn of events should be shunned at all costs. It is deliberate and willful even though there are some indicators that the situation may not end up the way we want it to be. However, like a starving peasant scrounging at every scrap of morsel thrown at us we pounce at every scriptural promise and hum any hymn that might strengthen faith and hope.<br />
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We feel this need for God so strongly because we realize that there are certain things beyond our control... beyond anything tangible that we could use to turn the situation around. If we had lots of money we could use its power to purchase good health and speedy recovery. If we had access to state-of-the-art healthcare and expert medical personnel we would use those resources to nurse our loved one back to health. If we had... if we had... and we realize that in a way we do have all of those things and yet somehow we are not seeing any change for the better. <br />
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A sigh is all that we have and the only thing that somehow makes sense. Our helplessness becomes nothing more than a precursor to surrender to whatever happens, to whatever God's will may be, however painful, however tragic, however unlike what we want things to be.<br />
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<i>Allah Karim</i><br />
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We nod at each other and smile as if this slight curvature of our lips might serve as a balm. They do the same. We all do it even without thinking hard about it. We do it while placing our hands on our loved one and kissing their foreheads. We do it while we talk to the nurses and look at the monitors. We do it while they explain the prognosis. We do it while we walk back home and smell the air in the streets.<br />
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We do it while we close our eyes in prayer. <i>Let your will be done. </i>Whatever it may be. Whatever the outcome. Whatever the future may hold.<br />
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<i>Amen.</i><br />
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Our sigh is a prayer and articulates what words cannot but right now it is the only way we can express something, anything. It is the silver lining for the dark clouds all around but it is also that whisper of a tiny thought that maybe, just maybe, the unimaginable might just be what our loved ones need at this time.<br />
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We sigh... because sometimes that's all we can do when we can do nothing else. <br />
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Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9403471.post-69491737648715592342018-10-20T11:03:00.003+03:002018-10-21T08:24:17.772+03:00The Etymology of Touch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>T</b></span>here is something sweet about a touch. It gives us pleasure. It comforts us. It soothes us. It warms us. And then, it connects us with the other person either in a tender embrace, a firm handshake or a gentle caress.<br />
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As tactile beings we long for it, and shudder at the very thought of living our entire lives 'chronically untouched.' Right from the time we are babies to our childhood years, we have been hardwired to appreciate and accept touch as something very natural -- even essential.<br />
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Babies instinctively reach out, children like to be held close, teenage boys shrug but meekly accept a hug, and the grown ups may not always admit to their need but when faced with an emotionally vulnerable moment a touch is the only language that can be understood... that can fully explain everything without any words being said.<br />
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A touch has that power, has that magic, and that sense of letting the other person know, <i>it's ok</i>.<br />
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But then again, not all touches are the same.... sometimes the unexpected and unwanted touch can shake our world in ways that can be devastating. When not needed or even expressed inappropriately, a touch can seem like a slap rather than as a soothing balm it is supposed to be. When this happens, we are left confused, bewildered and in some cases, ashamed.<br />
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We are confused because we can't seem to make the connection between that which is essentially good with that uncomfortable feeling we seem to get when touched wrongly. We are bewildered because we know that a touch is not supposed to make us feel this way and yet somehow we can't seem to shake that feeling of being disgusted. We feel ashamed because in some twisted way we feel that we are responsible for this... that somehow we were complicit and whatever happened was our fault after all. Whatever image we have of ourselves as a moral and upright person comes tumbling down with the swiftness of an avalanche.<br />
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It shouldn't be so but it happens all the same.<br />
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There are some, however, who are able to immediately articulate what they felt and experienced. They are able to put into words the pain and the agony they feel, and know exactly what legal or other steps they should take to make things right. They are the brave ones who believe waiting is foolish and futile, and action must be taken as soon as possible for justice to be served.<br />
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But not everyone is able to do that.<br />
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For many it is a dark road that never seems to end... the more they try to make sense of what really happened they find themselves plunging deeper and deeper into an abyss. Something inside of them is broken, and though they know what it is it takes years or sometimes decades for them to finally come to terms with it and say, yes, this is what happened, this is what I felt, and it was not good at all.<br />
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It is not cowardice or even denial that makes them arrive at such a realization so late... it is just that there are layers upon layers of other hurts, memories of other inappropriate moments and all of this mixed with struggles to retain some degree of self esteem. So when they reach that moment when the chains of the past are broken, it is a liberating experience because they realize that it wasn't their fault at all... this truth echoes what Jesus Christ said, <i>the truth shall make you free!</i><br />
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Truth has that power for the hurting soul and the wounded person... it is like a ray of light sneaking into a darkened room and extinguishing years of misery. It is like being set free from a dungeon and enjoying the feeling of wet grass on the soles of ones' feet.<br />
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In the last one or two years, the #metoo movement has gathered steam, and many men are wondering, why on earth have women come up now and begun to narrate their stories. Some smell a conspiracy as if some shadowy group is behind all of these revelations, and is hell bent on tarnishing the good name of some of the men implicated. <br />
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And then there are those who insist that some of the women were slutty to begin with, and that they basically asked for it. What could the poor man do when she stood next to him radiating her sensuality in all its glory? Poor helpless man had no choice but just reach out and touch all that sexiness.<br />
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We don't have the answers for all the stories... we can't deny that there might just be a few cases of seduction and blackmail but we can't -- at the same -- brush aside the many stories that are now emerging simply because we find them unpalatable. Women are finally finding courage to speak up about the truth of what they have experienced, and not taking them seriously is not the answer.<br />
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The young girl who was groped by a family member and told to keep quiet about it. The young intern at a new place of work having to contend with unwanted hugs from senior officials in the organisation. Or the many women who have had to deal with lustful eyes scrutinising every inch of their body, and still other women having to give up on trying to explain that being friendly is not the same as flirting. Many of these accounts are rooted in a painful past that many have worked hard to forget, and yet the scars remain.<br />
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In many cases, unwanted advances from strangers could be dealt with because it's reasonable to assume that strangers are dangerous... and this is something we often tell children and we hope they pay attention to those instructions.<br />
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The trouble is... what does a person do when those touching them inappropriately are trusted family members, colleagues, family friends, supervisors... or religious leaders? What does one do when the very people who we should trust end up betraying?<br />
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These are people whose touch is welcome and even expected but when they behave dishonorably and touch in ways that are not pleasurable the young woman or man is left shattered. It takes them years to put the pieces together and sometimes not at all.<br />
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So to answer why are women coming up <i>now</i> with their #metoo stories... many are finding courage to speak up because some have shown that it is OK to talk about it, that it is OK to even talk about it after many years, that it is better late than never as long as speaking will bring healing.<br />
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In other words, making it clear that a touch is not a freebie but a choice... and disregarding this important point is not a slight, a mistake or an accident but a serious crime.</div>
Ashish Gordehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10105222512599129308noreply@blogger.com0