Month: Oct 2020

Bouquet from the King

The room gasps: outside our window beneath a hunch of trees, it’s there. In a rush of light & stillness … a Bouquet from the King, in a fuss of forest early evening mist. “For you.” He whispers;

I fling my mind down and lunge to where we get a closer angle: this pic doesn’t do justice to what real-time iris sees in 360 panoramic degrees of an October going to November, in the wake of ..

PiCourtesy Vihan

***

.. of Year 2020 tip toeing on all our nerves. I’m certain 2020 feels bad by now, and we aren’t breathing easy yet, not me. Woke up this morning feeling like I’m on Mt.Everest and scared to look down….

then He sends us a Bouquet among 295+ shades of green tender/ savage noon light.

Heart slamming our ribs we stare at His bouquet staring at us in equal devotion: every curl, petal and sepal, a startling testament of Him, His unshakeable Kingdom around our little planet.

I look up at Light filtering through nearby trees and see another Bouquet closer: its orange blossom flushed with rain. These trees were always here, now they are no longer just trees,

they are Messengers from the Creator: His voice in startling tones I never really thought were specific convo with me, in this here tiny moment no one else might even notice. Vihan, my daughter grins and says, “Yeah Ma, you’d catch this! Now pl Blog post it? “

The picture we managed here, barely captures what really was, pulsing with His 7D Presence! I needed to share it with you this eve of November: a Bouquet for you from the King.

Photograph : Vihan

***

May you too be startled by wild insane Events in corners just waiting for you to notice Him-

notice His Messages of Unblinking Love, no matter the forecast. Nothing mortal compares with His presence- NOTHING.

‘I BELIEVE’

I’ve glowed over a few things like the day she was born, twas dawn literally; and in these days of uncertainty, a voice crying out with new hope, belief. Too young to know what utter hopelessness really is, young enough to sing it like an angel-

our daughter Vihan’s debut album Evening with Grace, this one – I believe. (Songs that came to her in a span of 2 hours, from the One who truly Sings).

Seriously dont want to ever recover from this:

Thankyou & looking forward!

Okayeeee! My first attempt at this, shaky albeit, in our messy:) creative space at home; but needed to say thankyou and too, if you’re on U tube – will be putting out Vihan’s Debut album EVENING WITH GRACE, the best in contemporary worship music I’ve ever heard! Description in Utube has a bit on that.

It’s a season of gratitude in my heart and home, gratitude to friends who’ve been so supportive, and God, the source of my Joy!

I’ve been writing a bit more than usual, hence the quiet days here at Innerdialects. However, I might be trying to talk Vlog here. Let’s see how this works. Happy thoughts, but let’s see. My heart is full of reasons to say thank you Lord God! It’s been an insane year for us all as Nations, but also a season of inner dialogue…. for me, and for you too I guess? Hmm. I had to absolutely conquer my fear of the camera to do this one…. for my little girl who does every possible thing she can to get me going! ‘Evening with Grace‘ happened to her all in one evening as she sat with God: 9 songs in exquisite arrangements and vocals (all hers!)that make me cry everytime I hear snippets in passing as Noe and Vi edit these beauties. I’m blessed to be able to put this out.

Thankyou dear Blogging community for every Like and Comment or Read,

in a time like this one, this space has been a Den of Joy for me. God bless you for being there, and for being who you are, fabulous!

What am I?

Not even who, but what am I, the boy asked looking at the floor, his eyes flat with nothingness. What had happened here, would stay with him till the end of that day. And when it spilled it was like lava, every word singed our ears. There had been self abuse and total lack of feeling to anyone even himself. He could not trust himself. He believed everything negative ever said against him.

I’d been brought up to a level of humility necessary to be good civilized people, but this beat all civil existence. He would not believe anyone could love him and he stared through my face when I said God loved him. He was not more than 24, and looked old. Old eyes and skin. He’d cut himself, done drugs, done things he felt nothing to reveal. He had died inside. They’d told him he was a waste, a shame. I didnt know how to reach him, but prayed that night.

The next day, he was smiling… it was near dusk and inmates were getting ready to go indoors. Someone had talked him out of his mess. I never knew who it was, but he told me in no uncertain terms that he believed God lives and loved him. I must’ve stared open mouthed at him because he laughed out loud and looked so happy. Only God could have worked that miracle. Twas like he was being held by a super power. I will never forget how that looked. That’s how it looks to be held by a living God. It looked fearless, free and unarguably happy!

And I’m thinking now, what are we, what’ m I, but Beloved of God…

FMF WRITERS,

Friend of sinners

***

Listen close and you will hear a bus, a neighbour’s drill….. yea was recorded in a tiny home studio, at a time of transits. This Album was worked off a Psr 630(keys), and my undying love for Theatre: it is perhaps who I am without choir costume and acquired taste… just all my voice & human pulse. It is the rough of pavement psalms and His pursuing love; (thankyou ABBA Father for being Who You Are: creative, generous, incredible!)

my daughter insisted we put it out again(released 2004,Mumbai). We even found lost Master tracks…. thanks hon risking this one on your channel💔

I met a woman in a Mumbai slum: a woman suffering abuse. She asked me to pray for her: I asked her what she called Jesus; she said, “Isa”.
https://youtu.be/Gd8CVS2g3NI

***

Often we might go barefoot in trails where we are in the enlarged presence of Other Intelligence. Here we strip protocol, and might hear a Reply. Here I knelt unashamed of my crying need for Christ alone: for Yeshua who gave His life for us, for me…

for the local prostitute who walked around our bus stop. She’d mock me with an inscrutable stare; oneday I saw her in an outfit I gave away to our building watchman for ‘his wife back home’ he said;

now this street girl knew it was my dress she wore, she watched me recoil, watched my righteous indignation. And then I sensed God watch me: my superior brows rise in ‘whoa’ as if the rest of us mortals were such perfection!

From my album ‘Isa’ remixed last week! This one I describe as Nazarene Narratives, stories of the Touch of God.

This one is because of that street girl.

*****

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Harvest of Tears

it goes down the cheek of our fields,

prayers like rain, like tears, these kisses of heaven?

I couldn’t have guessed this was a Garden. What.

Blossoms of Your Breath. Your Breath.

Oceans of Words, reaching in me, in me.

As if I were just ONE child You had, and wherever I went You followed / saw me.

Nothing between us, just Your Tears falling in my face. Thought they were mine!

You seeking all of us. All of us. What a harvest that be. All our soul safe in Your gaze. For this I pray everyday. Every single day… for Your harvest of Tears like kisses of heaven. Heaven.

All pics from Unsplash.

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Thankyou Father God for the Love You bestow on us that we be called Yours. Thank You for silhouettes of You everywhere. Most of all thank You for all the things about You I’ve learned in the dark, nothing compares with that. All the seasons of ‘festivity’ I’ve ever had, pale next to what You’ve harvested in my winters! I owe You my life, my all. Father God in Jesu’s name, I thank You.

___________________________________

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Stay blest, stay precious.

(All pics, courtesy Unsplash)

Where does Help come from?

Unsplash

It arrived that morning, not like an orange life jacket but via a few loud words yelled in my ear by a man on a bike. “Jesus loves you!” he roared as the road took him down and swerved into the market place. I stood staring at his audacity. His noise! His impertinence. Who’d he think he was? Moses?! I went about my day, chin snuck in collar, miserable and yet haunted by the Jesus of the man on his bike rushing away. How many more people did he yell at today?

***

I remember his smile now. His little eyes hid in bushy brows, a wrinkling face, smiling. At what, me? The more I thought about him, the more I felt a warm smile light up my own self. The love of Jesus seemed to reach through like with Safety Jacket. I’ve no words for it. Help seemed to arrive at me, in words sent from a stranger.

A love without protocol! Oh reckless. Defying! Not caring for this and that. A Love that sped to me like on a Bike! Speed is needed for urgent help.

Unsure where you’re at today, but I just want to say, no matter what the tide is, no matter how it feels, He knows you. He cares. He loves you. And you can disbelieve His existence, or wonder whether His arms even reach where you’re at, but He loves you He does too. He sent me to tell you that; He loves you. Jesus.He loves you. Think on that. Just think on that.