Travelling to India always brings a rush of long forgotten memories. The sight of an immortal Fiat taxi in Mumbai takes me back to my childhood. The sound of the car, the inevitable scrapes and marks from the decades spent navigating the streets and dogging the endless people and vehicles, returns me to my preteen years. I never imagined that I would be back as an adult. I do not think I even thought of growing old and older. The sights, sounds, and smells are doorways to hidden scenes and experiences that are trapped somewhere in my mind.
The character then and now wonders how he got here and why. There is a desire and fear in wanting to know. It is as if the façade that I have spent decades constructing will fall and there will be nothing left. I can remember the blunt conversations with Divinity even as a child. Most were dark, pleading to be able to hold Hope’s hand while acknowledging that so far I had failed. I am not sure why I carried the dark thoughts with me. It was a mixture of despair and belief that usually ended with a acknowledgement and demand; “I’m a mess. I’m nothing and have nothing: make something of me. You can do it; you’ve got what it takes – but God, don’t put it off.” (Psalm 40.17)
I look back and realize that God heard my prayer. The failures since then have been mine, not Divinity’s. Then and now, as I let God touch my heart, I am changed. As I bring the principles of compassion, empathy, and community into my values and priorities, I am changed.
Transformation is scary. One does not, cannot know where it will lead. Yet in the willingness to be transformed, a scared child became a man touched by God. It is not a unique story. Rather it is a story that we share. All are being touched, some knowingly, others not. Embracing what God is doing for us is the best thing that we can do for God.
