As I read a beautiful post today describing how the author met some lovely people in his life, my thoughts went on a roll too. Into the past. Especially towards a man who in some way had a deep influence over me over the years.
He was the pastor of a tiny house church, I as a collegian attended years ago. An incredible man, with deep insight in God's word, we really looked forward to hearing him expound it each Sunday. He had a gift of 'seeing' things..which is actually prophetic foresight..when he prayed over folk. He was a very humble person, the humblest I have met till date. His wife recounted to us how one day a man came to interrupt his house construction and started throwing away the bricks. But pastor stood still. He didn't even speak a word, just smiled and prayed. The man never troubled him again.
I remember him holding prayer meetings in our home over a period of three days. He spent time in fasting and prayer especially for our family. One day, he prayed for me and sister. He spoke some things he 'saw' about me, words that I hold onto like a rudder in deep, stormy waters. 'You walk among thorns..keep your eyes straight on Jesus.' This was a timely word, as I kept having to face some really annoying folk in the coming years.
'You should be as a lotus in a dirty pond..' Another gem..
God has an uncanny way of speaking!
Sadly I moved away from God, when I went through terrible depression, some time later. So I stopped attending church every alternate Sunday, when Pastor wasn't around, with the excuse the other guy couldn't preach! It was a fact. He was boring.
Mom was unhappy with my behavior..but couldn't do much.
'She's guileless..' The only thing pastor replied her, when he came to know this.
Mom wasn't too sure about that!
I grew worse. A rebel. My grandmom didn't make things easier for me. We never saw eye to eye.
One evening, Pastor visited us as he did every week. He came in with hands folded in the most humble namaste, as he always did. He asked me something but I was in a bad mood that day and ran inside. To my surprise, the usually reserved man followed me inside. And looked at me enquiringly. He knew something was boiling inside me.
I never told him. He then proceeded to pray for me and left soon after.
God got my attention all right. I developed a painful boil inside my cheek which got filled with pus and grew even more painful. The week following this was real bad. Then I realized I was drifting from Him. I decided I must get back again. That was the last rebellious Sunday of my life! I never skipped church ever again.
Months passed. One night someone came over and gave us shocking news. Our beloved pastor was no more!
He got serious with a diabetic toe and died en route to hospital He was only 49.
Our world collapsed around us. Mom began weeping inconsolably.
Multitudes attended his funeral. Every one had loads to speak of how this utterly dedicated, extremely humble, saintly man touched their lives profoundly. Every one missed him. Church wasn't the same without him.
Decades have gone by. But memories of this precious man of God refuse to leave me.
