GLORY, GLORY, A NEW KING IS BORN!

GLORIA!

HOSANNA IN EXCELSIS

IN HEAV’N BELLS ARE RINGING

VERILY THE SKY IS RIV’N WITH ANGELS SINGING

Dear Friends,

I would like to wish you all a very JOYFUL CHRISTMAS when we celebrate the Birth of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ!

I absolutely LOVE the hymn: ONCE IN ROYAL DAVID’S CITY. It takes me back to my childhood days, acting in our Nativity play. We had to do all the actions, and I can still remember rocking the Infant Jesus. It was such a precious time. The words are so profound: He came down to earth from heaven. Jesus is the Word made flesh. He came that we should have life in abundance.

In John 10:10 Jesus tells us, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” And He meant that we may have it (life) “exceedingly, abundantly, beyond all we can ask or think” (Ephesians 3:20).

I often think of people who have given up successful, high flying careers after having been completely changed by the power of Christ. The experience is an internal one. They discover something more, and although the world outside has not changed, and the problems still exist, they make a certain discovery, and find an inner peace, which the world cannot explain. Have you ever been or met someone who just radiates that inner peace and joy and you just want to be around that person?

More and more people are seeking for something beyond themselves. People are generally aware that there is a Power greater than us. There are so many self-help books, life coaches, doctrines and philosophy. The search is a real one to find our purpose and to make sense of our existence.

In every person there is an inner longing. There is a void that world cannot satisfy. At some point, we realise that the world cannot bring us the inner joy, peace, authentic love that we sincerely desire.  

God sent His Son, Jesus Christ, for “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, the old things have passed away and, behold, new things have come” – 2 Corinthians 5:17

This Christmas season, we celebrate the birth of Christ who calls His children back to Himself. 

Psalm 16:11 says it so well and we too, can welcome the Child King and say to Him:

You make known to me the path of life;
    You will fill me with joy in your presence,
        with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

Psalm 16:11

Have a HAPPY AND JOYOUS CHRISTMAS!

A BIG HUG

from

Olivia and Family

Now let us forget our problems and sing!

 

ONCE IN ROYAL DAVID’S CITY

Once in royal David’s city,
Stood a lowly cattle shed,
Where a mother laid her Baby,
In a manger for His bed:
Mary was that mother mild,
Jesus Christ, her little Child.

He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all,
And His shelter was a stable,
And His cradle was a stall:
With the poor, and mean, and lowly,
Lived on earth our Saviour holy.

For He is our childhood's pattern
Day by day, like us, He grew;
He was little, weak, and helpless,
Tears and smiles, like us He knew;
And He careth for our sadness,
And he shareth in our gladness.

And our eyes at last shall see Him,
Through His own redeeming love;
For that Child so dear and gentle,
Is our Lord in heaven above:
And He leads His children on,
To the place where He is gone.

ENJOY AN EXTRACT FROM ‘THE NEXT OF KIN’

Greetings friends!

It is with great delight that I today share with you an extract from my book. I am taking forward near the end but there is something special about this extract from Chapter 43. This segment happens in December, and as you read, you can imagine how much comfort Nicole needs at this moment as she tries to come to terms with the recent passing of Padre Angelo. As Angelo’s secret place is revealed, some secrets about his spiritual and artistic nature and the conflicts he had inside himself are revealed too. Enjoy!

-

8 December 2004

T

he next day Nicole was up and fully dressed, long before the dawn. There was silence in the mission, which tended to belie the drama of the recent events. She paced the verandah, sometimes stopping to look into the valley, wondering how often Angelo had looked across that direction. At times, she would just sit on the bench, facing the large cross, lost in grief, wondering when it would all end and if she would ever recover completely.

It was the same cross that depicted a distraught Saint John, who was standing with his arms wrapped around Mary, supporting and consoling her. It was Angelo’s favourite spot. And his violin was still reclining on Mary’s knees.

An old wound had re-opened; more than that – an old wound had been ripped open.

Nicole was still standing staring into the valley, when Carlos reappeared. It was just some minutes before six o’clock in the morning. He looked very tired, not having had much sleep, as he had to remain at the hospital while procedures were carried out before he could bring Angelo back to the mission for the final time.  He kissed her tenderly on her cheek and held her hand.

“Angelo is back.”

Then he saw the bruise on her forehead.

Carlos felt as if something hit his solar plexus. He lost his balance and tottered.

Before she could respond to either event, the singing and the drums, together with other homemade instruments, started again and seemed to get louder. Nicole held onto Carlos’ hands even more tightly and hid her face in his chest in an attempt to escape this never –ending nightmare.

He tenderly nursed the bruise on her forehead. And explanation for its presence was not necessary.

Soon, her daughters joined them on the verandah, in the silence of pain, which seemed to be compounded by each beat of the drums.

“Nicole… Come!” Having regained some semblance of strength, he intimated to her, also stretching out his hands to the girls. Carlos led her through the archway of the sweet smelling vines, which were now in blossom. Nicole thought that he was taking her to the church; however, she found herself going down into the valley, further and further away from the drums.

They came to a little stream. Carlos explained, “It comes from the mountains.”

Nicole washed her face in the cool, crystal waters and felt refreshed.

The very attractive and unusual stones and pebbles could be clearly seen lying on the sand bed. She was caught up in the wonder of the soothing waterfall and the stunning rainbow that was created by the cloud of mist and foam. The water flowed so peacefully from the waterfall and gurgled warmly, foaming as it made its way past the little boulders. Nicole found deep comfort.

“Look,” he pointed to a flat-topped rocked in the middle of the stream and another close by.  “Take your shoes off and we will rest here for a while. My daughters, there is also a seat for you. Don’t worry! No crocodiles!” He gave them a mischievous grin. This brought a smile to their faces as they looked in awe at the beauty of the place and welcomed the relief.

There could have been no better remedy for Nicole. The tranquil stream invigorated her soul. She swung her legs inside and against its flow. The water was refreshingly cool and the sand felt so soft between her toes as she wiggled them.

The early morning rays shone through the tall trees on either side of the bank and played on the water, giving off dazzling hues.

For Nicole, something was instantly familiar about this place and it brought back memories that were hidden in the recesses of her mind. Yes, the sheer peace, the seclusion of the trees, the sunlight flowing through the branches and the sound of the gurgling water reminded her of the secret place, with the flowing fountain and the towering statue of Archangel Michael.

It seemed like only yesterday.

“Angelo loved to come here. To hide here. To read his books and to write.”

“To write?”

“Yes. He liked to write poetry, stories for the mission children and various articles. He took great delight in composing music for the church and many things like that – like your John Bradburne.” His eyes twinkled as he caught her look of amazement.

“So when no one could find him, he was mostly here. This was the place where he came to find God. He often said God was waiting for him and he did not want to miss the appointment. Even when he felt unwell, he could be very stubborn and would still come here. Many times he came back in the rain, soaked.”

Carlos shook his head, “Angelo! Stubborn! Like ox!”

He asked her softly, “Did Angelo ever speak to you about the few weeks here in Mozambique before he became very ill and was taken to Zimbabwe?”

Encouraged by the look on Nicole’s face, he continued, “Angelo thought that the jungle would be a remedy for the pain he was going through, all the suffering and guilt he felt after…” He shrugged.

“I am his closest friend since seminary. I was with him the time his brother died. We were ordained together side-by-side.  As we lay face down on that day, Angelo was on my left side. We were like brothers, like Anton and Andre. Then it happened. The sorrow. All our celebrations stopped. He was still staggering, trying to find answers.”

He blinked back tears, “After some time, they allowed Angelo to join me here in Missao. He tried. He tried so hard. It was not easy. We all tried to help him. On the contrary, the jungle did not shield him from the devastation he felt on the inside. Then one day, he announced first to me, then to the Church, that he intended to leave his priesthood. Just like that! Can you imagine all our shock and disbelief?”

Carlos often wrestled with himself for not relating this painful aspect to Nicole when he brought Angelo to St Michael’s….  

 ***

 Meanwhile, below is a floral arrangement I made for my daughter, Candy, for her 21st birthday!