Scripture Sundays #3


I have a love-hate relationship with beginnings. This is mostly because I’ve been legitimately born awkward and therefore far less susceptible to changes than your average antisocial. For some inexplicable reason I have always been drawn to solitude, always craving for a quiet place above the humdrum noise of daily everywhere. At age 7, I boycotted my own birthday party and has never had one ever since. If you would ask me where I began to regard myself as a reader, you could probably look in those early years of my childhood—where I started conversing with books and books started talking to me.

2013 marks the year I’ll be turning 23 and wow, does time fly!—I’ve been surviving this cruel world for that long! Books and Reading and Stories—they make the atrocities of living and getting by so much bearable. I could not imagine a life without libraries, and this I thank God for, every waking day of my life. If there’s one mind-blowing revelation I’ve had encountered this year, it’s the fact that God speaks to us too in volumes and our Faith is the frequency by which that secret communication runs through. The bigger our faiths become, the closer we are to God’s heartbeat and it moves us, transforms us, in more ways than our feeble minds can imagine.

And it stuns me still, whenever I try to stand at the precipice of God’s unconditional love. I still see and remember myself at that cold afternoon sixteen Septembers ago and strangely enough, that bittersweet memory is nothing to me but a testament of God’s wondrous ways of holding our hands and shaping our hearts in gentleness and trust. A fact: I still would very much rather hole up in my room and lose myself in a book than go bonkers at some random club to dance with nameless strangers. I’ve tried it and it’s fun, but we stick to what makes us happy at the end of the day. Hence, I choose stories; God talks to me through them. And this is where I find fullfilment, meaning, joy, strength.  Invisible things, sure. Love, as I’m sure you’ll agree, never stays skin-deep; we need that mind-bending, spine-tingling, spirit-crushing, heart-breaking embrace that won’t let us go.

I want to come home to the promises of the bible. I know in my heart of hearts that it will always be my First love in literature and that I will be reading and re-reading it forever till my eyes are too dim to get by a page. Faith, as I have come to learn it from when I was a child, is about never giving up on things that never gave up on you, even when the whole world tells you otherwise. And I am certain, that even though I may have not a single hint or clue as to whether this year will elevate or devastate me, my faith will keep me standing and walking and reading and dreaming—because I have a God who will never give up on me.


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