Innerdialects

At Amsterdam complete with windmills in green fields, Art Galleries of the greatest, Schiphol, Diamond cults and Red lights,

I met The Billy Graham at a convention for Itinerant Evangelists, almost every nation on earth in that Rai Centre. My roommate, a Finnish blonde didn’t speak a word of English, so I became her aide; we both worked odd hours off Media team’s floor of different nationalities. The man himself, Rev B.G,

his steely eyes in blue were so fixed on God, drawing very little attention to himself: you got to stare at the Cross, Its Savage Love, wrecking hell. I never recovered from Graham’s humility and his take on the Cross: this terrific Symbol of Salvation.

Different day, at an airport, I walked past M.F.Hussain, he was barefooted and dressed in white from beard to silver locks framing a firm jaw that softened in a smile. He was just generally smiling? Why did I never smile back? D’you smile casually at celebrities?! Why was he so sweet,

like someone’s grandpa, his long arms and fingers somehow humble, in white kurta & pajamas, this stunning artist whose work I’ve tried to imitate but never could: look at this masterpiece of his: Earth. Beauty in chaos, ugliness in splendour: each time I look at it, it weaves truths in horrors, cries out loud, pleading sanity.

‘Who is the greatest human (or worst) you’ve ever met?” Big question to ask, in a season of Change, heart shifts, soul zombies.

Today’s my Monday. My weekly off!

Here I take a trip in that Vineyard we store inside, us humans. (Vineyard – because we are so like – of the Vine: Vine Grafts into main Stock. Here we adapt into an environment we choose : heaven, or hell. Here we morph-

we are wrung like wine of grape, stomped, crushed, cellared, settling in, in vats with time.

It takes a sitting down to ‘know‘ the Process, to watch our seasoning, our harvest: of weed, or sweet wheat ‘n wine. Here we get a glimpse of what we’re morphing into.

I’m not who I was even a five minutes ago. I’m changing into the image of Him whose Vine I’m crafted into.

(there’s the account of the goldsmith that refines his metal till it reflects His image);

What’s my essence:

where are we, in this season; to What have we sold our soul?

here, the Soul of True Love made a deadly transaction for you & me.

I never get over this one.

I never get over the Reality of Love like that, which stoops to our filthiest gutters to find us, transact us, to Himself. That’s the greatest One I’ve ever met.

We each meet some amazing people, they reflect the immortal, the invisible, the unchanging infinities that run collaterally, oh hugely in our fragile, fragmented everyday living. These persons, ( it could be a child, a school teacher, a simple neighbor) their influence can make or break us.

More than ever before, am fascinated at the power of humans over each other, and how they point us to immortality, good or bad.

Allow me to give you this : “The most stunning human we will ever meet, is the version of ourself, closest to the Cross.”

Have a blessed day,

In Yesu⚓

Time moves on,