The Case for a Creator - Lee Strobel

Part 1 of 6


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And you thought you could play the guitar!!!

Andy McKee - Drifting


Check out this 'Harp Guitar'
Andy McKee - The Friend I Never Met


Andy McKee - Tight Trite Night (Don Ross)

Closet Talent

Here are two of my favorite clips of ordinary folks with an extraordinary touch. These people if judged by the 'cover' would never be read. But given the opportunity, reveals amazing potential and depth not perceivable from the outside. No style here folks... just substance.

Paul Potts

This first clip is of Paul Potts who worked at a Carphone warehouse. He took part in Simon Cowell's show Britain's Got Talent (much like American Idol) which was held at the Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff. Paul sang a condensed version of Giacomo Puccini's "Nessun dorma" Here's the video clip:



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Fred Mittle, young at heart:

The performer in this clip is 84 year old Fred Mittle, who suffers from congestive heart failure. This song was to be a duet between Fred and another chorus member, Bob Salvini from the chorus, Young At Heart (a chorus of performers between 73 and 92). Sadly, Bob passed away a few weeks before this concert was filmed for the movie "Young@Heart" and it was left to Fred to carry the song on his own; having to sing with an oxygen tank by his side. Tears welled up as I watched this octogenarian render Cold Play's 'Fix You'. Truly amazing, the way he bends timing with the sheer power of his performance.

Ground Zero

It was Sabbath. He knew it from the throngs of people going up to the temple. But for him this day or any other had been the same for the past 38 years as he lay there paralyzed beside the pool near Sheep Gate, gazing expectantly at its placid waters. Once a year the water stirred by an angel (or an underground hot spring!!!) brought healing to those who could get there first. In 38 years he had never succeeded, and deep down, knew that he never would. He was an invalid and did not have the education or experience, good looks or upbringing, influential contacts, or rich relatives to "make it happen"... and now after 38 years he did not have the will or the hope. He was literally just a few feet away from a miracle, but in his impotent state he could have been 10,000 miles away... so near yet so far!

In the early days beside the pool, he dreamed big. He would get into that pool at the right time and walk out a new man... He would get the right job... marry the right woman... have the right kids... go to the right church... play golf... He would even donate a significant part of his income in helping people like him get into the pool in time... yeah all this and more, once he had dumped his past in that murky water... his mistake riddled past. He would definitely not commit them again. No way... he would be a changed man. Those were costly mistakes.

There was only one problem... it was always someone else in that pool every time. People just like him… people he had encouraged not to give up; they were the ones there before him. Straight out of the water they came... thanking him... for without his encouragement, they said they would have given up long back. Now that they had made it, they were very sure that he himself would make it. "Hang in there buddy", they encouraged him, as he had them. Wearily he smiled... deep down inside him, his heart was sinking... as were his dreams...shrinking...   Yes, he thought... maybe one day he too would get into that pool first and be healed... maybe one of the passers-by would lend him a helping hand... maybe after that, he would try to get a modest job... Would he? He wondered. The world as he had known had changed as he languished for years beside that pool. Now everyone worked on computers and talked on cell phones. He would, maybe, in his spare time help people who just like him could not get into that pool...maybe... he had already downgraded his aspirations as ground realities like menacing tentacles gripped him. Indeed he had made mistakes... costly mistakes that landed him here. How he wished he could undo them.

Well, all that was 38 long years ago. Now he no longer dreamed... nor even glanced up at passers-by. He just lay there staring at the water as if in a trance... if only he could get in there... his only wish in life was to get to that water first... what after that?... he did not know... he did not care... after 38 years he had no dreams left. His dreamscape resembled ground-zero after a nuclear blast. He dreaded picking up the pieces from where he left 38 years ago... his prime was gone... so was his drive... his energy... I wonder if deep down inside he even cared if he got into that water at all.

But this Sabbath day, among the hundreds of feet that passed him... one stopped... he didn't notice at first. Maybe someone had paused to answer their cell phone or even light a cigarette. But these feet, they stayed there planted... as if on purpose. Slowly he looked up. A man was looking at him. Someone was actually paying attention to him after 38 years! But why? The stranger looked intently at him and asked "Do you want to get well?"

What a ridiculous question! It was like asking a choking man if he wanted the Heimlich maneuver (well almost). "Do I want to get well? Well let me see... nope... I'm happy the way I am... in fact I'm looking forward to another 38 years of pool gazing!".

The irony of the question, however, was not to satisfy the curiosity of the one asking, but a deeper, soul searching question addressed to him… like the beam of a searchlight on his tired heart. The truth was... he had stopped believing in ever being healed. In fact, he had totally forgotten about being healed. His world had become so myopic... all he wanted in life was to get into that pool. Nothing else mattered.

"Sir, I have no one to help me get into that pool when the water is stirred", he replied. "Can you help me? But then... the pool hasn't been stirred in a long while! Can I have your mobile number sir, so that I can call you the moment that pool gets stirred? You'll have to come real quick though... If you don't come quickly, someone else could beat me to it."

"Get up!" the man said authoritatively, "Pick up your mat and walk". His brain hadn't even registered the incredulous words of this stranger before healing and strength coursed through his broken body!

38 years rolled back in the blink of an eye. He got up. He couldn't believe it. He looked towards the pool. There was barely a ripple. Was he dreaming? In 38 years he hadn't stood on his own feet... and yet it only seemed like yesterday. He had no difficulty getting up or picking up the mat even after four decades of paralysis. Only his mind could not catch up with his feet as it froze in wonder and disbelief. He was whole again!

Suddenly he remembered... the stranger!... where was he??... he looked all around him... but all he could see was the milling crowd.

Jesus meanwhile had quietly slipped away...

Adapted from John 5:1-15
Miracle Maker - Delirious?

I’m waiting here for my life to change,
When the waters stir you can rearrange me.
Just one touch is all I need,
I’ve nothing much but the wounds I feel,
I’m looking for the hand of the miracle man.

Holy, you are holy,
Who was and is and is to come.
Holy, you are holy, Saviour, Healer,
I’m standing at the feet of the miracle maker.

I’m holding on, with your life in mine,
Living water’s come,
And you’ve rearranged me.

Holy you are holy,
Who was and is and is to come.
Holy, you are holy,
Saviour, healer,
I’m staring in the face of the miracle maker.

Holy, you are holy,
Who was and is and is to come.
Jesus, precious Jesus,
Thank you, Saviour,
I’m walking in the shoes of my miracle maker.
I’m standing with the faith of a miracle maker.

Written by Delirious? ©2005 Curious? Music UK
Album: The Mission Bell

Entsundige mich mit Ysop

This has been my pm for days now on gmail and msn. Many have been asking me what this means. Well... the clue is in the dp itself! It's nothing but Luther's rendition of Psalm 51:7 "Cleanse me with hyssop..." - NIV. Translated from German it means, "Unsin me with hyssop". The context of this verse is David's penitent prayer (Psalm 51) after being exposed by God through the prophet Nathan concerning his adultery with Bathsheba. A terrible, terrible scar on David's character. It brings to my mind renowned men of fame in Christian circles who have fallen from their pedestals due to their urge to merge (or splurge!). They have all virtually disappeared from public life; their lives irreversibly shattered by their shame. We have all made mistakes one way or the other...mistakes we desperately want to undo. But try as we might, their haunting memories hang on to us like barnacles on a whale. If there's one feature I love most on my comp, it's the 'undo' feature. No matter how many mistakes I make, I can always undo it... 'like it never happened'. If only there was a 'Ctrl-Z' in real life - sigh! Well, there isn't and there ain't gonna be one. Mistakes made are made. People's impression about me may be altered forever, no matter what I do. But David obviously was not concerned (dunno for sure!) about people's impression about him. He definitely was worried about God's impression about Him as echoed in verse 11, "Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me". Verse 4, "Against You, You only, have I sinned ". What God thought about him was very important to David. In the light of this, Luther's rendition becomes very poignant, "Unsin me...". "Make it Lord in Your sight like it never happened". Verse 7, "Cleanse me with hyssop". Hyssop is a perennial herb which finds its first mention in the Bible in connection with the Passover (Exodus 12:22). Hyssop, which soaks up the blood, was used as a brush for sprinkling or painting the door posts. Jesus, the Passover Lamb, soaked up my sins and mistakes in His body and cleansed me with His blood. He 'unsinned' me. - Romans 5:9.

In His books... my mistakes just never happened!

Revival in Shillong

"LORD, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, O LORD. Renew them in our day, in our time make them known..." Hab 3:2 NIV

The revival sweeping across the Presbyterian churches in Meghalaya and particularly in Shillong is now well known. I am not getting into its history here, since it has been documented in detail by people like Barkos Warjiri, Sheila Cherian and Reuben Pradhan among others. For those interested in knowing more about the history of this revival please visit these excellent websites:
http://www.shillongrevival.com/
http://revivalfire.info/
http://www.welshrevival.org/histories/roberts/contents.htm
http://sheeju.wordpress.com/revival-news/
http://torestoration.googlepages.com

Some of the above sites have pictures and videos of the amazing events which have been taking place in the churches in Shillong since mid 2006.

I too have been following the news about the outbreak of revival in Shillong churches since September on Alban Lyndem's John 832 Bible Study forum. There was always a constant struggle between my heart and my mind as I read and heard about these amazing happenings. I desperately wanted to go to Shillong to witness this revival. And God granted my wish in December 2006 through Alban and his family in Shillong. Here's a brief account of what I saw, heard and experienced and my impressions (mine alone). A few pictures were taken (by Alban) during our visit, and they are available below (apologies for the poor quality).

Visit to Nongkrem


Entrance of the church in Nongkrem (Click to enlarge)

On the 30th of December 2006 (our 8th day in Shillong), after a wild, exhilarating and exhausting visit to Iweduh (those who have been there will know what I'm talking about), Bah Michel arranged for a visit to Nongkrem Presbyterian Church where a revival meeting was to take place at 7:00 in the evening. Having seen and taken pictures of the glittering objects that fell in Mawphlang, I was gripped with excitement as we approached Nongkrem, a small village near Smit about 12 km from the town of Shillong. We reached only by 7:30 pm while the first prayer was going on. A typical church like others in this area with wooden pews facing a sizable rostrum. The wooden panel behind the rostrum had the design of a cross worked into it. There were 2 rows of pews on either side of the main aisle. The rows to the left were occupied mainly by women and children and they were more in number compared to the men who sat on the right. All in all, maybe around 200-250 people - a small gathering for a church this size. The rostrum had approx. 15 (not sure) chairs for the elders and deacons who sat facing the congregation; but during this service only 4 elders were present (the main pastor himself was not there). We seated ourselves at the back (middle actually since the church was only half full). Unlike the city churches, where people are usually in formals, here most people were dressed very simple... all wrapped in Khasi shawls because of the biting cold. The whole service was in Khasi. Being a revival meeting, I was expecting lot of music and 'praise & worship' compared to the usual Sunday morning service. Surprisingly the format remained the same. After the opening hymn (sung from hymn books... no fancy LCD projectors here), one of the church elders began to preach. Not able to understand a word and being quite snug in my Naga shawl, I began to doze off... (not just me... but even some of the elders who sat on the platform). To aid my slumber... the power went off for 15-20 minutes and the preacher droned away in pitch darkness. My dozing thoughts were "nothing's going to happen here". No glowing cross as in Malki... no falling glitter... no angelic lights... just a normal church service.

After the 50-minute message (by now the electricity returned), everyone stood up for a hymn. There was no music of any sort, but the passion and fervor with which these simple village folk sing is something else. Then the elder said something ("let us pray" I presume), and everyone started to pray out loud. From here the service took an unexpected turn. Since I could not understand a word, I thought they must all be reciting the Lord's prayer. But after a while it became apparent that all were just praying out loud. This is when I noticed some commotion (for lack of a better word) in the front where the small children were seated. Someone carried a small child, while others scurried to lay mats along the main aisle. By now, more children were falling and were being carried to the mats and covered with shawls and blankets. Some more choruses and hymns followed... especially songs on revival. People were clapping and singing with even more fervor. There was an atmosphere of expectancy. During this time, a small girl two rows ahead of us was carried to the mat. She was sobbing uncontrollably and some young people squatted around her and began to lay hands and pray for deliverance. God's move was very tangible. I was ecstatic! It was going to be a long evening of just lingering in His awesome presence, maybe even experiencing a touch from the Lord. But alas... the closing prayer and benediction soon followed and before I knew it, the church emptied out... everyone left except for the little ones on the floor and the young people huddled in prayer over them. Although majority of the congregation left, God's mighty presence was still moving in that place. I stood watching in awe the few young people ministering to the young children. Reluctantly, I left when I was informed that we were invited to tea at one of the elder's homes and that we had to leave. I just could not tear myself away from this place. The presence of God was unmistakable. Here I was... somewhere in a nondescript village in the NE of India in a 'non-charismatic' church, witnessing the mighty move of the Holy Spirit. No 'praise and worship', no charismatic preacher, no soft music, no choir singing 'ministering' songs, no invitation to come to the front to be 'prayed for'... hardly the kind of ambiance where I expected 'things to happen' .... and yet... God moved at a different level! Unexpectedly... unobtrusively... powerfully... among unassuming children... among the youth...


Chidren laid on the mats and youth huddled in prayer over them (Click to enlarge)

What was amazing is that children seem to be the ones experiencing the touch from God. The older generation, I observed, were aware of revival happening in their midst, but few appeared to have tasted of it, although they support it wholeheartedly and enthusiastically. I would have thought... the elders and pastors would have been there praying and ministering after the service... but no... they all went to their homes... and to my utter amazement, the evening's preacher was enjoying a smoke outside (maybe it was the cold - lol).


Even as the ministering goes on the church empties quickly after the service (Click to enlarge)


Children lying on mats covered in shawls and blankets (Click to enlarge)

This visit has completely changed my view of God's workings. For years I thought God moved supernaturally only in pentecostal and charismatic churches and that too in certain "settings". But what I witnessed here has opened my eyes. No big preachers of international repute here... In fact, no names AT ALL! No theatrics. Just lives being changed by the power of God. A new generation being awakened to fulfill His purposes.

Over tea at one of the elder's house, I heard testimonies of miraculous happenings in the various churches around Shillong. Of angels, glittering objects and children falling, singing and dancing and prophesying. But more amazing were testimonies of how communities were being transformed, of pubs and bars losing customers and being forced to close, of broken families being reunited, of father's heart's turning to the children and the children leading their fathers to the Lord, of how people were once again flocking to churches. I asked some of the elders if they themselves had experienced a touch. But not one of them appeared to have. I asked them why do they think it was so... and they said... "maybe because of our own presumptions".

How true... our own presumptions and prejudices can be the hurdles to a personal revival... but God is not hindered as He continues to work in the hearts of those who simply believe.

I come away with a deep hunger to know Jesus Christ more, to experience Him as these little children did. Their melodious chorus still ringing in my heart...

Ah Trai phah rebaibal (3)
Ai kan sdang shwa na nga.

Pynbaptis ia nga Trai (3)
Da ka ding U Mynsiem.

Pynrhem hapoh jong nga (3)
Da ka ding U Mynsiem.

Pynim la ka Balang (3)
Ai kan sdang shwa na nga.

Ai bor ba ngan ialap (3)
Ia ka kyrteng jong Me.


"God's voice thunders in marvelous ways; He does great things beyond our understanding." Job 37:5 NIV

John832 Bible Study Forum has more pictures and accounts of the revival. A very special thanks to Vinod for his Olympus C-700