Clearing the Fog

It was foggy. She stood there, frustrated with herself. She had no idea where she was. She must have taken a wrong turn somewhere back there because she thought she was heading back to the house but it seemed to be eluding her. The fog was so dense, she couldn’t see much around her. Alone and getting lost in a thick blanket of fog was not her idea of how to spend a pleasant Sunday morning. What was she going to do? Well, there wasn’t much she could do except wait until the fog dissipated. How long that would take, she had no clue. It seemed so strange to see such thick fog in the middle of summer. This is England, she reminded herself. Anything is possible when it came to the weather. Sighing, she leaned against the tree and waited.

 

Earlier this morning when she had looked out of the window there wasn’t any sign of fog or she wouldn’t have ventured outside. Instead, she would have slept in a little longer or gone to the library to read one of those interesting books she found there. Everything about Pemberton Place was interesting. This was her second week at the magnificent, Gothic mansion rising above the beautiful, sprawling grounds that seemed to stretch for miles and miles. She was here at her friend’s invitation.

 

Maggie grew up and lived here most of her life before she moved to London where she attended university. It was at university that they met and became fast friends. She usually spent the summer in London with family but this time Maggie insisted that she accompany her to Pemberton. Excited and nervous at the same time, she agreed to go. It was a nice change to spend the summer with her friend and her family.

 

Pemberton was everything she had imagined and more. Maggie had told her so much about it that she felt as if she knew the place. It was massive and it reminded her of somewhere like Pemberley, Thorncliff or Manderly. She couldn’t imagine living there–it struck her more as a tourist attraction than a private home. And there were lots of servants. She didn’t know how Maggie could remember all of their names. And so many rooms. One could easily get lost. And she did a couple of times.

 

She smiled as she remembered going into the library when she had meant to go to the drawing-room. Instead of facing a huge fireplace with crackling fire licking the logs she faced an enormous bookcase filled with books. Forgetting her dilemma at the moment, she walked over to the shelves of books, her eyes traveling over the thick volumes, textbooks, Encyclopedias and literature. Her eyes spotted a collection of writings by Jane Austen. She was about to pull it out when she became aware that someone else was in the room. She turned.

 

It was Rupert, Maggie’s brother. She had heard a lot about him but nothing prepared her for their first meeting.

 

First of all, he didn’t look too pleased to see her there in the library. She had been about to go over to him, extend her hand in greeting but the scowl on his face kept her immobile. “I don’t believe I know you,” he said, quickly closing the distance between them. He stopped a short distance from her, his green eyes searching her face, his expression quizzical.

 

For a moment she was distracted by his looks. Tall, swarthy, raven dark hair with a few strands falling across his forehead. He was incredibly handsome. He was dressed casually in a white shirt and grey slacks. “I’m Darcy, Maggie’s friend from university.” She held out her hand and it was clasped in a firm grip. “It’s good to meet you, Rupert. Maggie has told me so much about you.”
He released her hand but his eyes stayed on her face. “She did mention that she was bringing a friend to spend the summer holidays here at Pemberton.”
She glanced around the room. “You have a very fine library here,” she commented. “I was on my way to the drawing-room but ended up here instead. I’m glad I did. I was looking at the books when you came in. I saw several that I would like to read. I hope you don’t mind me being here.”
He turned away then. “You are free to come in here whenever you want,” he said. “However, this is the time when I usually come here to catch up on my reading and I like to be alone. To get to the drawing-room, just turn right and it’s at the end of the hallway.” He went over to one of the book shelves and took down a large book and walking over to the armchair, he sat down. He opened the book, signalling that their conversation was over. She turned and walked out of the room, thinking to herself that he and Maggie were as different as night and day.
That was several weeks ago. Since then, they hadn’t interacted much and when they did it seemed stilted.   She remembered one afternoon on the grounds when she was taking photos.   As she stood among the shrubs,  Maggie took a photo of her friend.   When they walking back to the house, they ran into Rupert who was on his way out.   Maggie showed him the photo she had just taken of Darcy.   “Lovely photo, isn’t it?” she remarked.   Darcy was wearing the pale green lace top and a navy blue capri.

 

He looked at it and then he looked at Darcy.   “Yes, it is.”  He agreed.  He gave the camera back to Maggie and abruptly excused himself.  Darcy felt embarrassed about the whole thing.  It was obvious that Maggie was trying to set her up with her brother but it was obvious to Darcy that he wasn’t interested.   It seemed like his admission that she looked lovely in the photo was rather forced.

 

“I don’t think your brother likes me,” she remarked to Maggie one day when they were strolling in the garden.

 

Maggie looked at her, surprised. “Really?” she exclaimed. “I rather thought he did. Why do you think otherwise?”
She was sorry she mentioned it. Shrugging, she said, “It’s just the feeling I get. I could be wrong.”

She changed the topic. And no more was said about it.  She hoped that Maggie wouldn’t say anything to Rupert.   She had tried not to let his animosity toward her get the better of her but it really bothered her. Why didn’t he like her? What had she done to make him resent her so? Even now as she thought about it, sadness filled her.
As a Christian, she always tried to get along with people, no matter how difficult. It wasn’t always possible. Yet, it never troubled her as much as this did. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that the thought of Rupert not liking her crushed her because she liked him. She liked him very much–in fact, she loved him. Unrequited love. She never imagined it would happen to her.

 

The sound of a twig snapping startled her and she turned in the direction of the sound. The fog was clearing and she saw Rupert approaching her. She moved away from the tree and turned to face him. In a few quick strides he was standing in front her. His face was flushed and his eyes stormy as they searched her face. “You have been gone so long that you have everyone in the house worried about you,” he informed her in a cold, clipped voice. “Maggie begged me to come and look for you. Why didn’t you come back to the house once you saw how foggy it was?”

 

With him standing so close, it was hard to concentrate. She took a step back. “It wasn’t that bad when I came outside and I thought it would clear up,” she said. “I walked to stretch my legs. I went farther than I planned to and I got lost. I decided that I would wait here until the fog cleared up. I’m sorry you had to come and look for me.”

 

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I’m relieved that you are all right,” he conceded, somewhat reluctantly. “Shall we go back to the house now? I’m tired. I was in bed when Maggie came and asked me to come and look for you.” He turned away.
“Why don’t you like me?” she had to know. It was eating her up inside.
That stopped him in his tracks and he swung back to face her. “You think I don’t like you?” he looked incredulous.
“Yes. You are cold towards me and you barely say anything to me or acknowledge me when we are in the same room.”
He was staring at her now, his expression one she had never seen before. “You have no idea,” he muttered. “Do you know that I didn’t enjoy the London Symphony Orchestra last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about you? You filled my mind. Driving back here from London was worst. I had the radio on but I didn’t hear it. Thoughts of you drown out the music. When I got in it was late and even then, I couldn’t sleep because it was hot and muggy. I went for a walk and when I got back it was after one. It took a while to fall asleep.  So, I’m tired now because of lack of sleep and from fighting my feelings for you.”

 

She stared at him, aghast. “You have feelings for me?” She felt as if this were a strange dream and that at any minute she would wake up and find herself either in bed or in the library in one chairs where she had fallen asleep over a book she was reading. Rupert couldn’t be here, standing in front of her and telling her that he had feelings for her.

 

He moved closer to where she was standing. “Darcy, I have been pushing you away and avoiding you because of the feelings you stirred in me. Feelings I have never experienced before and that scared me. I didn’t want to deal with them or with you. Coming out here just now and finding you when I was worried that you had somehow wandered off the grounds and gotten lost, brought those feelings to the surface. I wanted to take you in my arms and hold you tightly, because I was relieved to find you here still on the premises.”

 

Her heart thudding, she moved closer. “I can do with a hug,” she said.
In a matter of seconds he had closed the distance between them and she was wrapped in a tight embrace. “I’ve been such a fool,” he murmured. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Yes, Rupert, yes.” She closed her eyes, basking in his embrace and thankful that she had been wrong about his feelings for her.
He drew back and their eyes locked for a moment before he lowered his head and kissed her.
“Let’s go back before they send a search party out for us,” he suggested softly when he drew back moments later.
She nodded and smiled when he reached out and took her hand, his fingers closing around hers.  They walked back to the house, the fog had lifted. Everything was clear now.

Black woman standing among trees smiling

 

Harper Lee

I never expected any sort of success with Mockingbird. I was hoping for a quick and merciful death at the hands of the reviewers but, at the same time, I sort of hoped someone would like it enough to give me encouragement. Public encouragement. I hoped for a little, as I said, but I got rather a whole lot, and in some ways this was just about as frightening as the quick, merciful death I’d expected. – Harper Lee, quoted in Newquist, 1964

Just found out that Harper Lee, author of To Kill A Mockingbird, died this morning in her sleep at the age of 89.

I never read the book but loved the movie.  Scout’s friend, Dill Harris, was inspired by Harper’s childhood friend and neighbor, Truman Capote.  Capote mentioned that the character Boo Radley was based on a real man who lived down the road from where the two friends lived.  “In my original version of Other Voices, Other Rooms I had that same man living in the house that used to leave things in the trees, and then I took that out. He was a real man, and he lived just down the road from us. We used to go and get those things out of the trees. Everything she wrote about it is absolutely true. But you see, I take the same thing and transfer it into some Gothic dream, done in an entirely different way.”

To Kill A Mockingbird was an immediate success, winning the Pulitzer Prize.  Through the eyes of two children we see racism in Alabama during the Great Depression when a black man goes on trial for the rape of a white woman.  Harper dealt honestly with the issues of tolerance and justice in a divided Southern society.  One of the scenes that I remember was when Atticus and his children faced a vicious lynch mob in the middle of the night.

The novel is renowned for its warmth and humor, despite dealing with the serious issues of rape and racial inequality. The narrator’s father, Atticus Finch, has served as a moral hero for many readers and as a model of integrity for lawyers. One critic explains the novel’s impact by writing, “In the twentieth century, To Kill a Mockingbird is probably the most widely read book dealing with race in America, and its protagonist, Atticus Finch, the most enduring fictional image of racial heroism.” – Wikipedia

Notes to Women salute Harper Lee who was not afraid to address serious issues such as rape and racial inequality.

The book to read is not the one which thinks for you, but the one which makes you think. No book in the world equals the Bible for that. 

From childhood on, I did sit in the courtroom watching my father argue cases and talk to juries.  

 

Sources:  Wikipedia; Brainy Quotes; Common Sense Media

Living in Slums

I told them that even if their situation seems like a mountain, God is mightier than the problem – Nitya

Can you imagine being so poor that you live in a shack made of cardboard and plastic?  What if you had to struggle daily just to survive?  Imagine sharing a shanty with ten other families because you and your family can’t afford your own space?  This is the reality for people in India who dwell in slums.

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In India, slums are growing rapidly.  Millions are living in extreme poverty and everyday is a struggle for survival.  They are trapped in a world filled with desperation and hopelessness.  Open sewage, polluted water, lack of healthcare, illiteracy, superstition and diseases such as tuberculosis and AIDs are some of the problems they face.  It is a constant battle for them to find or keep a job.  No job meant that they would have to beg, scavenge or turn to prostitution.  It’s worst for them if they were too sick or too old to work because there was no social agency to help them to survive.  This is why many of them turned to alcohol for solace.  When the men drowned their sorrows and fears in alcohol, their wives and children were left to fend for themselves.  One woman who was a tailor had to work outside because there was not enough room in her tiny hut.

People should not be living like this.  And this is why God had to intervene.  He did so through a man named Nitya.  Nitya had a dream about a shack by the sewer.  And he moved into one!  How many of us would leave our nice, comfy, clean homes and families to live in a slum among complete strangers?  Nitya had no reservations.  Why?  He knew that God had called him to serve in the slums.  Sometimes the harvest is in places that we normally wouldn’t imagine ourselves going but when God calls us to go, we go.  Nitya made his home among the slum dwellers and through his actions, demonstrated God’s love and acceptance.

In Nitya’s eyes, these people were God’s children.  God called him and is calling others to share the Good News of Jesus with people who are hurting and are shunned by society.

Watch this video of Nitya–a real life hero who has a true servant’s heart.

God transformed the lives of the people in the slum. Darkness gave way to light and despair turned into hope.  When Nitya found out that children were unable to go to school because their parents could afford to send them, he started a Bridge of Hope centre.  At the centre, children learn about Jesus, receive quality education, medical care and daily meals.

Nitya also began holding worship services.   At first the attendance was low due to lack of interest but now more than 40 people attend.  At each service Nitya teaches them from the Bible and prays for them.  Thankful for the hope they have found in Jesus, believers take part in Communion to remember the great sacrifice He made for them.

One couple’s lives changed dramatically, thanks to the church.  Achal and Malika used to follow their traditional gods and Achal beat Malika but one day she slipped into a coma.  Nitya, his wife and other believers prayed for her and she was healed.  When Achal and Malika saw the Lord’s power, they gave their hearts to Christ.  Today they are among His faithful followers.

How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher?  And how shall they preach unless they are sent? As it is written:

“How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the gospel of peace, Who bring glad tidings of good things!” – Romans 10:14, 15

The Goa slum is home to the illegal prostitution trade.  Life seemed hopeless for the people there until a Gospel for Asia missionary team began to visit the area, bringing hope in the form of Gospel literature.

 As I went through the photo gallery of Team Ministers of Slum Area, tears came to my eyes.  It drove home the fact that there are people out there who will gladly accept the Good News if only there were people to share it with them.  These photos touched my heart.

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“Most of the people they meet are open to the Gospel message. Almost immediately they become engrossed in reading the literature.”

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“After he told them the Good News, many raised their hands, indicated that they wanted to follow Jesus. John is the pastor of a GFA-supported church in this area of Goa. He is overjoyed to see so many from the slum become part of the Body of Christ.”

Find out more about Gospel for Asia’s Slum Ministry and see how the work they began in 1999 is still impacting the masses of “desperate people who have no means whatsoever to better their situation or escape their surroundings.”  Share Nitya’s story and take a look at the photos.  Pray for the slum dwellers and the missionaries of the Slum Ministry.  Ask God how you can help.

Source:  Gospel for Asia