Dark Clouds, Silver Linings & Rock Violets...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
It is about a place of meeting. A profound meeting. A place of metamorphosis... there was a change. I am living it.

Submitted: July 23, 2009

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Submitted: July 23, 2009

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Rock violets - I saw a sapling the other day, waving in the wind. I felt the gentle but ever present Presence of the one who never forsakes, saying ‘Do not be anxious, I am here…’ Rock Violets hold a tender place in my heart… I remember a lady who saw a plant of it at a plant exhibition, years ago, and fell instantly in love with them. She brought it home, planted it in her garden. But no amount of love or care made it flower. Never did it blossom for her.

It has been long and sometimes, dreary years since the Rock Violets were first planted in the garden. The garden has gone through much change. In the midst of every day life, the ups the downs of growing pains, battling emotional turmoil and as fights erupted between my brother and I over selling our childhood home and the thought of packing my childhood into little boxes and moving out; while pondering on all these issues... my father called out to me one day to say hello to some unexpected visitors… amidst the undergrowth, the wild grass and the creepers, there it was… a spectacle that made my heart skip a beat… the illusive Rock Violets had come.

The lady who planted the Rock Violets was my mother. The home we were contemplating on selling was her dream which became a reality. My mother was my world. The most beautiful woman I ever had the privilege of knowing, but one day, her beautiful spirit flickered and was swept away, caught up in a gentle zephyr – its destination… heaven. Never would she adorn our lives again. My first disappointment with God.

When I was a few months short of my sixteenth birthday. Her doctor called us into his office one day and told us that she was beyond medical help. She had leukaemia and her cancer was too far gone. Along the highway of sickness and hopelessness she met Jesus. She and I were Buddhists while my brother and father were Catholics. Out of the four of us, she was the first to receive the gift of Salvation.

When the final verdict was passed, I did what most people do… I prayed. I knelt at my bed one night, and simply asked God to spare my mother’s life. I could not imagine life without her. I laid bare my heart and soul. The next morning when I awoke, I knew without doubt God had heard and also stepped into my life - literary.

At four in the morning there’s only darkness. but the four walls in my bedroom was awash with magnificent brilliance. It was simply breathtaking.

My heart too had changed overnight. A serenity had come to reside in my heart. I told her the instant she woke up what happened. I told her that I gave my life to Jesus and I told her that everything was going to be alright.

She died a week later on 24th March 1995.

I renounced God. Four months later, i turned ‘sweet sixteen’.. and started hanging out with the wrong crowd, started smoking and drinking. Before I was eighteen I made friends with marijuana. I am two ethnicities. Half of this and half of that. With my mother’s death, I was sent to live with my relatives. I learnt what racism was firsthand from my own. My father, at the time, was an alcoholic and I hated him. In a little corner of my mind – I blamed him for her death.

God had made a mistake – he had taken the wrong parent.

In Luke 24:17, on the road to Emmaus, we find two of Jesus’ followers walking along – forlorn, discussing the crucifixion. While being pre-occupied with Jesus’ death they forgot the rest of the story… the grand finale. And so it was with me, I was so pre-occupied with her death – I made myself miserable and in my misery I forgot a lot of things about her.

At the end of 1999 after a real bad spell of life – I resigned from my first job. While drowning my sorrows in alcohol other mind-altering drugs, a very persistent friend, invited me to a Christian Fellowship at the Methodist Church and in 2000 of May, at an altar call, I stood up and gave my life to Jesus.

Jesus is the risen One. Even though death was the ultimate reason Jesus came, death was not the final chapter to the story. After so many years of struggling with my mother’s death, I came to realise something I had forgotten – becasue she had received salvation, she is alive in the realm where God reside. The door I thought was forever closed between me and her, now, suddenly opened up again.

The rendezvous with alcohol and marijuana lost its glory. They were the first things to go. But the addiction to cigarettes was a battle altogether. I was smoking a little more than a packet a day (25 cigarettes) and I had been a chronic asthmatic from the age of three. One lung was at the point of collapse. I lived a defeated life, caught in the grips of addiction. Even though I belonged to a victorious God, I was a prisoner in the prison I had created for myself. But even when we are faithless, God remains faithful. A little voice placed the need in me to be baptised and in December of 2000, I was baptised. With the baptism I said goodbye to my life supporters, the inhalers and nebuliser. The asthmatic attacks stopped the evening of my baptism. Jesus healed me.

Before Christ happened my life was an empty void. Because of Christ, my life had significance. I wasn’t an accident. I told God I didn’t want to smoke another cigarette. He baptised me with Fire and I smoked my last cigarette in January 2003.

Today my father is not an alcoholic. Jesus saved him. God used me to be the bridge to unite my earthly father to my Heavenly Father and I consider myself privileged and humbled beyond words to be used in this manner by God. Why? He was the man my heart had condemned to hell. When it comes to my relationship with my father, forgiveness is something I have to practise every single day. Some days I struggle to forget and some days I struggle to forgive, but His grace has always been sufficient.

Life still corners me with trials but the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy that it cannot hear. God has been my shelter, my rock, my fortress. He has and is to this day – faithful. His love is profound. Description only makes it less. I know He will accomplish all that He set out to do in my life.

He is every where I go. There is no place I can go where He will not follow or is not already there. I know with certainty that even if the world abandons me it would not matter, because Jesus loves me and this is the fact that roots me with certainty to Him… \"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, or powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.\" Romans 8:35 -39.

A couple of years ago, in a strange turn of events, my brother stood up at an altar call and invited Jesus into his heart. But his relationship with God did not blossom – it reminds me of the parable of the seeds which fell on stony ground.

The Rock Violets came, not a day early, not a day late... It came to remind me that even though my kingdom totters on the verge of collapse, He is still the God who holds the great cosmos together and the God who reigns in my life. For as the earth bringeth forth her bud, and as the garden causeth the things that are sown in it to spring forth; so the Lord GOD will cause righteousness and praise to spring forth before all the nations.\"

“There is a God shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing, but only by God, the Creator, made known through Jesus.” – Blaise Pascal.


© Copyright 2020 Rachel Samaraweera. All rights reserved.

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