Tuesday, April 26, 2016
I was sunk deep down in a valley,
But now I walk right up the alley.
I faced struggles I could not cope,
But the Lord has given me new hope.
He lifted me up and sat me on a rock,
A rock firm and strong, that none can knock.
He is my pillar and my strong fort,
In His arms, do I find comfort.
The Saviour who rose from the dead,
Will guide me through my way ahead.
In Him I find a life ever new,
His love is a joy that I never knew.
Without you I can do nothing,
Indeed, in you I find everything.
Oh Lord, let me always follow thee,I thank you for calling unto me.
Praised be the Lord Jesus Christ, forever and ever. Amen
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Recently I got a chance to visit a beautiful, beautiful place. The moment I put my first step into this place, I was filled with a rare kind of joy and grace filled my soul. And when I say this, I am not talking about a Holy Shrine or a Pilgrim Centre. Well, actually according to me, this place is no less than a Pilgrim Centre.
The place I am talking about is a Convent in my hometown. Most of the nuns at the Convent are old and suffering from some kind of illness. I had been there to visit my grandma’s 84 year old younger sister, and this was the first time I was ever seeing her in my life. My mother had described her as a loving, caring and gentle person. And she loves to talk. She simply loves to talk. I have an ever growing fondness for the old, and well, an equally growing fondness for babies and young children.
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
My urge to write this post was aroused by an online discussion.
The discussion was about nature – about one’s favorite place to be or about one’s favorite vacation spot. Being a native of a region in India which is known for its hills, and the twists and turns they provide while riding those snake-like roads, I am a total fan of the hills. The hills would always be my ideal holiday location, especially when the Heavens drench it with cold, icy waters, when the earth meets its desire to quench its thirst with the showers that smear its dry, hard surface; or to be less poetic and more specific, I mean to say, the Monsoons.