A story not mine

I sit in this prison cell writing my story, thinking about what I thought it would be and what it has become. Where I started and where I will be. What I thought would bring me happiness and fill my emptiness, and Who ended up giving me the loving peace. I sit in this prison cell writing a story. A story not mine at all. It is the story of the One who formed me, called me, redeemed me because He is mine and I am His.

I was born in a Christian family in India. I grew up going to church every Sunday with a few rupees in my pocket for the church offering. I knew all the church songs in more than one language, but I did not know the One for Whom I sang it. I simply did not have the desire to know Him. I just wanted to do my part, look good and get it over with. But that did not fill the emptiness or take away the pain in my heart. The school I went to had a few thousand students in it, but I was the only student whose religious status said “Christian.” Though I was the only Christian, I was no different than the thousand other unbelievers. It is not very often that you will bump into a Christian in India, so a lot of my friends asked many questions about Christianity. I would always try to change the subject because I was ashamed of my religion. I was ashamed because it made me look different. It made me say “no” to trips to the temples. It made me refuse the food sacrificed to idols. It made me look different to them. I was tired of being different.

I kept on living my life wearing the “Christian” tag. I kept on singing songs on Sunday mornings, putting money in the offering plate, doing my part to look good and get it over with. But I still did not know who I was doing it for, and my heart was still hurting. During that time a missionary family started attending my church. My family became close friends with them (we ended up becoming related later). They had four sons and all of them were younger than me, but they all ended up way taller than me (I still cannot figure out the mathematics in that). One day, the dad and one of his sons invited me to a mission trip along with two other American guys to a village. I agreed and started packing for it like I was going on a vacation. I did not even think of taking a Bible with me, but my sister made sure I took one. We made the long and bumpy trip to the village. The church welcomed us and after that we went straight to bed. Next morning, I woke up and found all the guys in the next room silently reading their Bibles while sipping on some tea. So, to fit in, I grabbed my sister’s Bible and sat with them while sipping on some tea myself. But I was not reading a word. I was being what I did best: a hypocrite. Then one of the two guys that came with us comes to me and asks if I would like to read the book of Philippians with him. I said “sure.” It took me a long time to find that book, and when I found it, it wasn’t without help. “What verse?” I asked. “All of it!” he replied. I was not happy with the answer, but I still complied. I started reading, barely understanding much. Yet one verse caught my eye, and I could not get past it. So, I asked him what 1:21 meant, “to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” How could dying be any kind of gain? He said, “If we live for Christ, we will live with him. When our life is about Christ then death can only mean gain because we will be with Him.” I could not understand anything he said, but at the same time I knew that everything he just said was true. A seed was planted, and that seed made my heart beat faster.

There was an outdoor service the next evening. The missionary dad was going to preach on God’s grace. Little did I know that my life was about to change in the next 30 minutes. He started speaking, and my heart that had been hurting for a long time started listening for the first time. He talked about a courtroom. In that room, God the Father was a judge, and I was the criminal about to be condemned. I stood in front of that great Judge, not bringing anything to prove my innocence because I was not. I was about to be condemned for eternity, but then the great Judge asked me to step aside because Somebody was going to take my place. Then I see this man walking in. I have heard about him and what he could do. Will he do it for me too? He takes my place in the court along with the charges and my chains. He tells me that I am free and forgiven. “That’s God’s grace” the speaker said. At that moment it was as if I was a little plant, and his grace was a hurricane. He violently and lovingly shook me. Though I was surrounded by many people, at that moment I was alone with the Son of God. I said “yes” to Jesus who took my place. The only words that came to my mind were “To live is Christ and to die is gain.”

We were on our way back home, and I was excited. I had not told anyone what had happened, and I wanted to tell my family. But there was something different that I did not expect. I felt like my conscience had just woken up. I saw things differently. Now I clearly knew what sin was, and the things I wanted to do were wrong. I felt betrayed. I thought that accepting Jesus would free me. Then why did I feel more restricted now than ever? But one thing I didn’t stop doing was to read my Bible every day.  Every day when I read the Bible I would ask God to talk to me and clear things up a little. A few months later while reading, He showed me Romans 8:18 where it says that our present sufferings are nothing compared to the glory we will receive. That was His answer to me. He asked me not to run anymore. I assured him that I wouldn’t because “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

Nearly a year later I was accepted in a college in America and was about to head there. I was on fire for God and wanted tell everyone about Jesus. I was excited to attend college in America because I had heard that the US was a mostly Christian population. I did not have to be different anymore. Well let’s just say things were not what I expected. When I got to the college, it was nothing like I thought it would be. Life seemed easier and morality was scarce. I felt more different here than in India. I tried to hold on to the One holding onto me. But my old fear crept in. So, to make my life easier, I let go of Him. I went back to my old lifestyle where I wore the Christian tag, sang songs, doing my part to look good and get it over with. If sin was a pool, I dove right in. Now my life was easier my morality was scarce and my heart hurting worse than ever before.

I lived like that for a long time which resulted in an increased amount of conviction in my heart. That conviction was fueling my anger, and my anger was waiting to erupt. The eruption happened, and two days later I was arrested. I was in a holding cell in the jail for about 10 hours. The cell was cold, and I was in a state of shock. I was ashamed, scared and angry at myself for what I had done. At last I had been caught. I finally hit the bottom, and there was no way to cover this one up. The bottom felt cold, dark and hopeless. I did not think anyone would want anything to do with me anymore. I did not think my God and my family would want me. I had betrayed God so many times. It was at that moment when I fearfully and hesitantly whispered, saying, “I am done! Jesus, if you would still take me, I will follow you.” I was expecting a wave of extraordinary comfort but there was none. The truth is what I found was that the Lord just talked to my heart like a man talks to a man and said, “Your sins are forgiven. Follow me and sin no more.” I thought about the cross and how it never moved from its place. Though I was unfaithful, my God remained Faithful. I remembered the verse in Philippians 1:21, and now it was time to make it my own, “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

It has been over four years since then, and I am still in prison. In these years my God has been faithful to me. He has been good and gracious. Physically, I am still in prison, but spiritually God set me free from my chains the day I started following Him in that cold holding cell.

Job 36:15 says, “He delivers the afflicted by their affliction and opens their ear by adversity.” God used my physical suffering to take me out of my spiritual suffering. For over four years I have been carrying my cross, and through His strength I never plan to put it down. It has not been easy, but the pain in my heart has been replaced by the peace that surpasses all understanding. My emptiness filled by His love. A lot of people would say that my life is being taken away, but it is not true. I have been given a new life, a life lived for the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me (Gal 2:20). “What happened to me has turned out for my own deliverance” (Phil 1:19).

God has helped me to love Him more than I ever did before. And I know that I will be free when God wants me to be free. While in my cell, I once said to my Lord, “May I gain my freedom when freedom is not the thing I want. May I gain my freedom when Jesus is the only one I desire.” 

Psalms 126 is a song that I am saving especially for the day when I walk out of prison:

“Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of Joy.

Those who go out weeping carrying seeds to sow, will return with songs of Joy carrying sheaves with them.”