A day of great devotion, much exultation, as we raise palm leaves, to welcome the Prince of Peace . Riding a colt He comes, His peace He gives to us, not as the world does but an all encompassing , everlasting peace that passeth all understanding .

He comes riding from the east gate into Jerusalem’s holy temple. Jerusalem the holy city, a land torn by discord and division, a land of bondage and upheaval, trampled by foreign rulers. He comes not as a conqueror, to face the mighty Roman authority, but riding a donkey, extending peace, in the turmoil.

The leaves like olive branches, the people waved in the hope of deliverance, by the King on the colt. Jesus wept when He saw them, the hapless sheep of His herd, who knew not the time of His arrival, though prophesied from the beginning, even in the book of Genesis, about the One who will come to die for our sins and give us salvation.

Jesus came, to pull down the barriers, to remove the walls, to free us from sins. To follow Him is to carry a lighter burden, for He has done the work and it is finished . A free gift to accept, a personal relationship to develop with Him. Let us then welcome Him, to ride into our hearts, that is like Jerusalem, torn and chaotic, burdened and confused.

Let us this Passion week, accept Jesus as our Saviour, let Him into our lives, allow Him to cleanse our spirit, to heal our body which is the temple of the Living God, by His stripes,, so that our sinful nature may die on this Good Friday and be resurrected anew on Easter Sunday.

Death is not final, not the end, but just an interlude, a brief parting, a belief so strong I saw, recently at a funeral. A funeral I attended, not of family, not of a friend, not even an acquaintance, but that of a woman, a dear wife of someone I heard of, pretty much an absolute stranger.

You may ask why ? Oh it was a tragedy that struck a chord in me. A young woman who stepped out one morning, bidding goodbye to her family, with no inkling it would be final, but sure of seeing them in the evening. Unfortunately, an irreversible stroke she suffered in her office, to slip into a coma from which she never returned.

At the funeral I saw a loving husband and a forlorn child all of seven, bid farewell to a wife and a mother, not with tears but with hope unending. With the hope of a resurrection, of meeting once again in heaven. His eulogy, for the love of his heart, was not interspersed with tearful interruptions, but a narration of love, filled with stories of her immense kindness.

All who came forward, the lives she had touched and livened, paid tribute by celebrating her life, speaking of her beautiful nature, her inclusive love for everyone. They spoke of her readiness to help, to render service to all, even to the least of them, bringing light to their lives, even the worst afflicted. There she now lay in the casket, dressed in her bridal red, her lips turned up in a smile as she went to meet her Maker .

Her faith they said was strong, she was ready to answer the call, anytime . No grimace of pain, no regrets or rancour on her peaceful face. Her treasures she had stored in heaven and she feared not leaving her earthly abode. Her family, though sorrowful, were secure under the wings of the Almighty. And then I saw all things converging together, grace, love and peace, in the fulfilment of God’s promise for those who are righteous, even in the midst of absolute grief !

Ash Wednesday, the start of lent saw many flocking to church, the beginning of a period of repentance, a period of forgiveness. A time when most are overcome by the weight of their burden, a time to look to the Saviour, a time to pursue redemption, a time for release from our many struggles .

Leading up to the crucifixion, a time of reckoning, a time to acknowledge our sins and weaknesses, as we seek absolution, a cleansing at the fountain of the Cross. We come as one to the altar, we resort to making deals with the Lord, for freedom from our many bondages, for healing from sickness, for deliverance from financial troubles .

We fall on our knees, swear to work at redeeming ourselves, by offering sacrifices. By abstaining from rich food and drink, from indulging in the lust of flesh, from carnal desires. As we try to buy our stairway to heaven, we promise to be charitable and forgiving, to go on pilgrimages. Even by inflicting pain on ourselves, we try to wash away our sins .

But the Holy Book teaches us that Jesus Christ died to save us ! Why then do we not believe that our freedom from bondage, is bought by the sacrifice of Heaven’s perfect Lamb? Why do we not believe, that Salvation is already ours, and our entry to heaven is secure ? Why do we not believe, that by faith we are redeemed, and by His stripes we are healed ? Why do we still strive for redemption, through our sacrifices, when all we need is to go to the Lord, with a humble and contrite heart ?

Womanhood, a multifaceted state of being. A person who wears an apron of grace, a robe of power, a face of good cheer, of laughter, a face easily covered in tears, behind all of which she lives her life. Her family she protects ferociously, her freedom she guards fiercely, her friendship she gives freely, her troubles she faces with fortitude, a woman she is, in all her glory.

A mother, a daughter, a sister, a grandmother, an aunt, a girlfriend, a wife or a corporate executive, in all her roles she lights up the darkness, in the lives of many . Quick to apologise when in the wrong, ready to forgive when wronged, kind she is to the brokenhearted and tough with the arrogant. Charming and generous to a fault until that boundary is crossed, then a lioness she is, that you don’t want to cross .

Her strength disguised under a mantle of gentleness, her sharp wit covered by simple words, demure she is always. In the service of others she takes pride, even to the very least, but woe to those who mistake her humility for timidly. She seeks not fame or fortune, over the welfare of those in her care, be it her home or the workplace, an oasis of peace she is, to all who come to rest awhile.

Her tender love she gives freely, to family and friends, her heart so big, she rejects none and all she asks in return, is to be loved the same . But often she is exploited for her kindness, trampled to the ground like a fallen bloom, her beauty and fragrance extinguished. On this Woman’s Day, as we honour the women of fame, of fortune, of achievement, let us remember in prayer the obscure, the oppressed, the unloved, the downtrodden, the many fallen roses .

Here again another birthday, to mark the advance of my age , to mark the passing of another year in my life, bringing me closer to the finish . Let’s take it slow my friend, go slow, I say to time. Why this haste, why this chase, to draw me close to the end of my race ?

Why then celebrate this abysmal loss, when all others we mourn? Why do we raise a toast with vintage wine and cut a fancy cake, to salute the passing of another year ? Why do we with balloons and festoons, with family and friends, joyfully blow out the candle, snuff out the light of one more year ?

To my friend time I say, go slow, for barely have I lived my life, barely started to appreciate the world beyond my home. Go slow, as I learn to spread my wings, to fly with the wind to distant lands of my dreams . To feel the warm caressing rays of the sun, rays that dispel all darkness, to feel the tenderness of a light rainfall, rain that can wash away my tears, to waltz in the magical moonlight, to the slow rhythm of time , as it passes gently by .

Go slow my friend, for I need to relish every moment, to enjoy the good things I missed, to seize the lost opportunities. Go slow as I learn to walk by the Spirit, to love and be loved, abundantly, to laugh with those who are glad, to weep with those who are sad, to share my good fortune with those less fortunate. To see the glory of nature, to experience the beauty of creation, to make merry, incessantly.

Like a little girl, who has reached the bottom of her cup, with far too less ice cream left, I want to savour every drop of what remains of my life. So I say, thank You Lord for each new day, to celebrate as if it were my birthday, for each night I sleep, I know not, if the morning will be mine, but this I do know, that each day I wake in good health, is reason enough to celebrate and make it the very best.

Looking through old possessions, a nostalgic experience for all. The knickknacks covered in dust, those items we cherish, to discard, to shed, is heartbreaking . The broken chairs from the first dining set, the warped wooden sofa with its unsightly cushions, the chipped dressing table, the cracked mirror, the sewing machine from another age, all remnants of a life gone by. Like mammoths they stand, carrying many tales, stored in various nook and corner.

The radiogram, once our pride, now just a stumbling block, the LPs that played our favourite songs, sitting forlornly in their sleeve. The cross stitch and embroidery, my first needle work, the head scarf,and pink stilettos, the bright beads, and rhinestones, the bric-à-brac of a youth gone by, waiting to be uncovered. The books we read, now moth eaten, the well thumbed journals filled with stories, the fountain pen that wrote our history , all pressed into a dusty old box, never to see the light of day.

Lying at the bottom, was the family album, decades old and forgotten. There it was beckoning, almost clamouring to be picked up, to be opened. And out popped faces that were unrecognisable, from an age gone by.. Some of children now grown old, some less fortunate as they are no more and time you could say, was harsh to them left behind.

Each page revealing various occasions, whispering of happier days, some clear as yesterday, some waiting to be remembered. The pictures, though black and white , exuded the colours of joy, nudging from the deep recess of the mind, a forgotten time. Pictures of little children standing together, playing together, their innocent faces sure of staying together, their lips swearing undying love for one another, a love that didn’t stand the test of time .

Life had different plans ! Some were lost along the way, some just drifted away and with others, there exists a chasm of differences, an unbridgeable divide. Yet our lives remain intertwined, linked by our shared parentage.. Each picture parading before my eyes, brought a sense of timelessness. A memory captured in a moment, locked in a frame for a lifetime. Some can still make me smile, some can even make me cry, while yet others bring a wave of bittersweet emotions.

So it is this birthday, I look with longing and regret, at the memorabilia of the past. I survey with a heavy heart, that which needs to be cast away, that which is so dear, that which still echoes in the present . To let go these relics that formed my life afore and define me, is a disaster, for they hold much sentiments, but to hold on, a crushing burden for the next generation, a millstone around their neck .

Like the grains of wood, formed with the passage of time, so my indelible past has left its mark within. Do I then need possessions to remind me from whence I come? The memories of another time, like unsung melodies, will always float, not far beneath my awareness, ready to be retrieved, to be relived, when I am lost and lonely. And yet with great sadness, I prepare to dispose the clutter of a lifetime.

But cast them away I must, my life’s album, though reluctantly, to make way for the new,. And I know the legacy I leave behind, is not the sticks and stones, not the valuables but the values ! The lives I touched, the words I spoke, the tears I wiped , the cheer I shared and the loving kindness I spread, are all that will be recorded for posterity, to be retold even after my time .

Dear Lord, another day in the new year has gone by, the second month well underway . Father we thank you for keeping us all safe and healthy. We thank You for all good things that come to us, daily. We thank You for Your Grace and provision, for each one of us.

Father, in the earthquake hit Turkey & Syria, the dust has not settled, the wailing has not abated, and the stench of fear and death hang heavy in the air . The calamity has left the place in ruins, great buildings of the Byzantine empire have toppled, buildings that stood for thousands of years as witness to the greatness of mankind, brought to dust, burying thousands of mankind under its rubble.

Be with the suffering my Lord, each one of them walking in the shadow of death. Let them feel Your loving Grace, let Your rod and staff be their hope. Be with the children who are orphaned, with the parents mourning the loss of their beloved children, the old left with no succour, the young who have lost their partners, the many who are rendered homeless . Lord , You know their agony, their pain . Comfort each one and let them feel Your peace that passeth all understanding .

It is here again, another year on its way out and the new one knocking at the door . There are the greetings going around, back and forth, sometimes repeating themselves. After the rush, to wish family and friends, making sure no one is left out, there are no smart resolutions made, no tough pledges taken, but just a quiet moment of retrospection.

As we say goodbye with sadness, to the beautiful year gone by, with hope filled hearts we await the coming of the New Year. There were ups and downs, there were fortunes made and lost, there were joyous moments and tragic ones, lives were lost and the birth of new ones. Yet with gratitude we say, thank You Lord, for the year that is leaving us.

So it is another year, the day has dawned amidst wild celebrations. Looking around my home, it is just as it was the day before. The heavy laden chores are no less, the worries and anxieties, not diminished, but the sun is shining, the birds are singing, we are breathing, and the world is going around, reason enough to go down on our knees, and be grateful .

So I pray to the Lord this New Year, not for the lightening of my burden, but for the health to sustain and strength to bear all, graciously. I pray not that the Lord takes away worries and anxieties, but gives unwavering faith, as we step into the uncertainty of the New Year. I pray for a humble spirit, willing to surrender and trust Him in everything. I pray for love to reign our hearts, for laughter to cut through our pain, and for peace to reign in our hearts .

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Every year on Christmas Day, we were treated with pictures of a happy visit to Mrs.Castelino, our biology teacher, by one of our classmates. This year, seeing her picture, opening the message expecting another joyous visit, we were deeply saddened to learn of her demise .

Mrs.Castelino, an educator of great restraint, was never seen to lose her temper or raise her voice, however strong the provocation. The students she taught, were always ready to please , this their favourite teacher. Her gentle approach and kind demeanour, got the best out of even the worst recalcitrant.

She made difficult biology, simple to understand. Though an interesting subject, the intricacies of plant and animal kingdom, were not easy to comprehend. The names of the different classifications, a mouthful and difficult to master, their spellings, equally challenging. But teach she did, even the ones with the least aptitude.

Don’t know much about biology but some terms still come to mind, monocotyledon, dicotyledon, all due to her persistent repetition.. Standing on that dais, well turned out ,draped in her starched bright saree, drawing the plant reproductive system and naming the parts , or the human digestive system and the names of the intestines, duodenum, ileum , all come rushing to my mind, like it was yesterday..

Her face, still dear to us after forty five years, always lit up with a smile, as she greeted one and all. Easy and approachable, she was ready to help anyone in trouble, and patiently clarified, all our many doubts.We sadly bid Mrs Castelino, our biology teacher, goodbye, and pray she rests in peace, and will always remember her, as brimming with joy and happiness, till the very end .

The greatest story ever told, of an infant born to a virgin mother, the One who came to save the world, to lay down His life for the redemption of mankind, to free us from the clutches of eternal death . A story, centuries old, told even before it’s time, and for two thousand years since . A story that gives hope, and warms the hearts of those who lend an ear .

In the night , on a starry, cold, desert night , the shepherds watching their flock, wake up to the singing of angels above, heralding the birth of God’s only begotten Son. Rushing to see, they find not a royal prince in a palace, but a little baby in swaddling clothes, lying in a humble manger . No cradle of gold for Him, no celebrations befitting a king, but when He turned and smiled, they were filled with love, joy and lasting peace .

Feeling singled out, wasting no more time, they charged through the crowded places, declaring the birth of the Immanuel. Then there came many, to behold the Holy One, the One who would rule the world and set them free. Not all were convinced, for He was just an infant, born in a stable, surrounded by lowing cattle . It was when the kings from the east arrived, bearing gifts of gold, myrrh and incense, that Herod noticed the birth of the child and swore to kill Him.

But the baby, guarded by angels, grew to be a man, our Saviour. With no chariots no army, with no shields or spears, He conquered the world by His mighty Word. There is no man or beast, no force of nature, or power, that does not bend its knee, before the Ruler of Heaven and Earth .His sermons and teachings, brought enlightenment to many .

He gathered His followers, not by force, but with love and compassion. By His Word, the sick were healed, the blind could see, the deaf could hear and the lame, leapt up and walked. His light shone, on those in darkness, giving them renewed life . He walked and taught, performing unbelievable miracles, for three whole years . Then came the day of atonement, when He laid down His life, to wash away our sins, every worst one of them.

And so it is that Christmas is celebrated, to commemorate the birth of Jesus . With month long preparations and revelry, the day is ushered in, with prayers in the church. Family and friends then gather, to partake of food and wine, and merrymaking,. Christmas is a day filled with joy, peace, and hope for tomorrow, for the new year.

Jesus was born to bring new life, to reveal the truth of eternity, to guide those who are lost, along the path of righteousness. Christmas is the time to remember why God came to earth, and the sacrifice He made, to save us. It is the time to welcome Him into our hearts, to reflect on His teachings, to try and live by them. To love our enemies, to comfort the sad, to seek out the lonely, to aid the needy, to shine our light in the darkness, so the world is a better place, because we passed through it .