Early on the mission track many years ago, while I was still a child, I was fed with stories of God's Hand at work. These were expressive oral narratives, and verbatim of events of what God had done. These were besides the bible stories. These stories, were told to me by my father. And he in turn was fed these stories along with the Word of God, by his grandmother. I have passed this on already to my daughter. And I hope she will pass it on to her children. Stories thus passed down have been very powerful, and gone into the reservoir of my Lord's goodness and mercy in our lives, that all of you who know are reading this story now can also dip into, and feed off His love and peace.To bring to remembrance His good works is a delight by itself.
A little note about my paternal great grandmother .....
I have never seen my great grandmother. But through my dad's narratives I feel as if I have known her. Not only that, our home had few large colorful trunks with gleaming bright brass embellishments. It took a lot of effort for me as a child to open those heavy lids. So I waited for those moments when my father would open them. Inside that were the most beautiful pure white Irish lace crochet, akin pretty fresh snowflakes, all woven with thread. I looked at them with awe and wonder as to how she would have woven such magnificent things with such thin delicate thread. The crochet hook looked so tiny. Not only that, I would wait for festive occasions when my father's wedding gift was used, such as Christmas. The wedding gift that she had made for him comprised of an awesome curtain, with a table cloth to match. A small coffee table that was the focal point at many an important conversation and visitations, sporting yummy cups of coffee and tea, was draped with this pretty Irish crochet table cloth. Besides there were food covers and more, all made with crochet and thread. Observing the way my father handled these pieces with so much care, I not only experienced his grandmother but also his reverence for her love and biblical teaching. Years later now I am being appreciated by so many around the world and through my work I get to meet so many people. I would like to thank God for the seeds of crochet that were those sown by my great grandmother through the legacy of Irish crochet pieces that she left behind. You can see my work by clicking HERE. Crochet is not therefore just art but a missions story by itself, and I will tell you why.
I believe that my father's grandmother became an early widow. She had lived in India. She had come to know Christ and was immersed in her bible reading. All large houses as the ones we lived called villas and were large with a front entrance and a rear entrance. Our house was named "Jasmine Villa" as many jasmine trees grew in the compound, that produced sweet smelling jasmine. The houses had large steps leading to the door. The house was built much higher level, than the level of the road. I believe she would sit on the steps at the rear entrance and sing hymns all the time and crochet. (Crochet was taken into India sometime around 1844 by a Scottish missionary), Isn't that wonderful!!
She would gather all her grandchildren including my dad and feed them with the Word and also such narratives of events that had happened on the mission road. I am reminded of how Jesus sat down to teach and multitudes that many gathered to hear him. These little tiny tots were her audience that gathered around their grandma!! The faith practiced by father was thus shaped by God.
This story is all around a horse!! I even made a horse in clay to mark this story. So here is my little horse, and within that lies a lot of meaning.
The story goes like this...
My paternal great great grandfather was riding a horse one day. The means of communication were horses I believe, in the terrain where he was travelling. Suddenly the horse behaved differently. Have you ever experienced the fury of a frightened horse? The most dangerous accidents happen when horses get out of control soaked in their fear.
A little note about my paternal great grandmother .....
I have never seen my great grandmother. But through my dad's narratives I feel as if I have known her. Not only that, our home had few large colorful trunks with gleaming bright brass embellishments. It took a lot of effort for me as a child to open those heavy lids. So I waited for those moments when my father would open them. Inside that were the most beautiful pure white Irish lace crochet, akin pretty fresh snowflakes, all woven with thread. I looked at them with awe and wonder as to how she would have woven such magnificent things with such thin delicate thread. The crochet hook looked so tiny. Not only that, I would wait for festive occasions when my father's wedding gift was used, such as Christmas. The wedding gift that she had made for him comprised of an awesome curtain, with a table cloth to match. A small coffee table that was the focal point at many an important conversation and visitations, sporting yummy cups of coffee and tea, was draped with this pretty Irish crochet table cloth. Besides there were food covers and more, all made with crochet and thread. Observing the way my father handled these pieces with so much care, I not only experienced his grandmother but also his reverence for her love and biblical teaching. Years later now I am being appreciated by so many around the world and through my work I get to meet so many people. I would like to thank God for the seeds of crochet that were those sown by my great grandmother through the legacy of Irish crochet pieces that she left behind. You can see my work by clicking HERE. Crochet is not therefore just art but a missions story by itself, and I will tell you why.
I believe that my father's grandmother became an early widow. She had lived in India. She had come to know Christ and was immersed in her bible reading. All large houses as the ones we lived called villas and were large with a front entrance and a rear entrance. Our house was named "Jasmine Villa" as many jasmine trees grew in the compound, that produced sweet smelling jasmine. The houses had large steps leading to the door. The house was built much higher level, than the level of the road. I believe she would sit on the steps at the rear entrance and sing hymns all the time and crochet. (Crochet was taken into India sometime around 1844 by a Scottish missionary), Isn't that wonderful!!
She would gather all her grandchildren including my dad and feed them with the Word and also such narratives of events that had happened on the mission road. I am reminded of how Jesus sat down to teach and multitudes that many gathered to hear him. These little tiny tots were her audience that gathered around their grandma!! The faith practiced by father was thus shaped by God.
(This is a picture of my great grandma, the one who shaped my father in missions and the one who was the wife of a pastor)
This story is all around a horse!! I even made a horse in clay to mark this story. So here is my little horse, and within that lies a lot of meaning.
The story goes like this...
My paternal great great grandfather was riding a horse one day. The means of communication were horses I believe, in the terrain where he was travelling. Suddenly the horse behaved differently. Have you ever experienced the fury of a frightened horse? The most dangerous accidents happen when horses get out of control soaked in their fear.
| While he was on his way his horse suddenly started bolting out of sheer terror. The flight instinct is usually very sharpened when a horse is frightened and it overrides in their effort to flee and get safer. The panic the horse experiences makes it often throw the rider down. Horses thus are fitted with a shield for their eyes to prevent distraction and restlessness, by seeing too many things. In this case the horse started bolting and was trying to throw my great grandfather down. He got down from the horse and then noticed that a a lion had intercepted their way. |
All that my great grandfather been taught was to call on the Lord and he had also memorized the Lord's prayer. He closed his eyes and prayed the Lord's prayer.."Our Father who art in Heaven...".....he went on. When he had finished and opened his eyes, the lion was gone. He who shut the lion's mouth in the den and saved Daniel, is the same yesterday today and forever. And he saved my great grandfather from the lion.
However small or insignificant this story may seem, it had a profound impact on me and informs my ministry.
Until next time, lots of love and prayers
In Christ
Shanti
Mathew 6:9-13 for you to pray and call on His name.
9 After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.
10 Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
11 Give us this day our daily bread.
12 And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
13 And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.
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