Blog@GraceJunction

I was very excited that morning, the sun was still waking up as I hurriedly changed a few trains and rushed thru the crowd, meticulously following the travel plan in order not to miss the bus from Paramatta Sydney to the Hillsong church. It had been my desire for a long time to attend a worship service at this great church which has blessed nations across the world. My visit had more curiosity and excitement and I was all so much geared and focussed ‘to see’.

 

In much anticipation I arrived at the Paramatta station almost half and hour before the bus timings. As I came out I was glad to have located with precision the entire route and specially the coffee bar from where the Hillsongs bus would pick people up to the church.

Everything was perfect as I took the escalator singing in my spirit, I came out of the train station and began to walk on the pavement towards the coffee shop. As I walked a few steps my eyes caught the sight of a young lady seemingly in her mid twenties lying on the footpath bench. Dressed very pretty in white and pink, but in a complete state of stupor. She was totally lost and at the first glimpse you could make out she was either too drunk or under the influence of some drug. Murmuring, groaning and sometimes crying it seemed she was in some great pain. It was the close of a long weekend as Easter had dawned. The city was bustling with activities, parties, entertainment and a lot of people crowding the bars, discotheques and streets thru that long weekend. Every place was lit up, each inch on the bay and streets were occupied and everything associated with a big city’s great weekend was overflowing. I immediately started to make my calculations in the mind. I pulled my eyes away from her and tried to make stories in my mind of what might have happened to the lady. Excessive partying, too much drinking, doped, abused under the influence of drugs or is she someone living an immoral lifestyle. May be she must have been picked up and then awfully abused, while her cries were drowned in the city drumming and dancing wildly to the deafening orgies to be finally dumped in this state. I was well dressed for the visit to the church that I had been dreaming all this while and my white shirt was too clean to even go near her or help her. Uncaringly I crossed the street and sat across near the coffee bar, in order not to miss the bus.

Sights from the previous nights walk flashed thru my mind as I sat there, the famous streets of the city I saw was flowing with liquor, music and smoke filling up the every place where humans communed. The streets were filled by the young and the old, merry making. I saw people fixing up and some trying to bargain on the price for a night of pleasure. The crowded shopping malls were all decked up with festive moods and great bargain advertisements. All this flashed thru my mind in the morning when I was taking a look at the morning newspaper on the train. All this while I was thinking where is the church and its influence? I am going to see a church, a group of people whom almost everyone across the world knows, but I didn’t find them or read about them in the newspapers which were so filled with hopelessness and filth in the name of art. I prayed and asked God to help His children to become a great influence for change, for hope.

As I sat on the bench waiting anxiously, trying to look around if I am waiting at the right spot so that I don’t miss to ‘see’ – the church. Few people walked by the lady on the other side of the street, some young guys walked passed and made fun and comments on her. Some stood and starred at the skimpily dressed lady with dirty eyes, some walked by contemptuously looking at her, while others walked by shaking their head feeling sorry for the girl and what might have happened to her.

Well all the while I was looking at my watch just to be sure if I was there on time and reminding myself that I would not miss the bus. Suddenly my eyes caught sight of the hillsong bus, a white matador styled mini van with a big bold sign “+=Y” the bus was on the other side and I was excited to see it, alas my time had come. The bus went ahead and I thought it would go up and turn around to come to the designated stand. As the bus went out of sight I slowly started getting worried, am I on the wrong side of the street, did they pass by me. I was still alone at the stand and I started thinking about what other options I had to visit the church.

A few minutes through, my eyes caught the sight of a man in a white shirt trying to talk to the lady on the bench. I thought what kind of weirdo is that, trying to talk to an abused and drunken lady lying on the street. I saw in the distance, he trying to get her up on the feet and he took the high heeled shoes in his hand as he was trying to make her walk slowly in to the train station. He from a distance looked too gentle and loving to be true. I started thinking, what is that man up to? Is he pretending to be over nice? People standing beside in the bus stands were looking at this man with contemptuous eyes. Well, how can someone be so generous to help a seemingly abused and drugged victim? Does he have some ulterior motives? I was struggling to figure it out in my mind as I mockingly looked at the man, who was so graciously helping the lady with a smile. I shook my head in disbelief, how can the world be so cruel and so heartless, why don’t people have a little mercy to excuse atleast a helpless and victimised girl. There was a scene being created there, as he was trying to get the lady up on her feet and giving her his shoulder to lean on.

Well, my wait was getting more and more anxious as the time when the bus was supposed to pick up had passed by. I saw a few people coming up and one was an old lady with a bible in her hand so unashamedly clasping it to her chest walking and taking a seat on the bench and started reading. Few more people started pouring at the point each asking if this was the place and if the hillsong bus has passed by?

I was slowly getting troubled, as it was becoming late. What if all them had missed the bus? What if all of them were standing at the wrong stand? Suddenly I saw the man crossing the lane and coming towards the place where I was seated. I was shocked, not again ! The lady still had her make up on the face, tears had run thru them. She was not in her senses, was muttering and sobbing sometimes like a small baby, one could easily guess she was broken and very hurt. The man in the white shirt had something about in his smile, he was too good to be real. The man came near me and that’s when the lady surprised me by asking “do you have a smoke?” I pulled myself away feeling ashamed, thinking hey do I look like one? I pushed myself back and said no, sorry I don’t smoke. The man in the white shirt who was so graciously helping the lady asked a few women waiting for the hillsong bus to help and take care of the lady as he gently handed over her high heeled shoes and purse.

The man rushed away, while the lady was reluctant to stay, kept asking for a smoke from those around and constantly was trying to free herself from the people who were around her trying to help her even as she was stumbling and struggling to stand. In a few minutes I saw the man driving towards us with the hillsongs bus. I was glad, I recognised that in a world like ours it takes the supernatural to be too good, to be genuine to be real.

We all got in the bus, the lady was seated right next to the man who was driving, all thru the 45 mins run, he was concerned about her, helping her sit properly, she would at times doze off and would being to fall. The man constantly had his eyes on her and sometimes holding her hand reassuring that she would be fine, while she continued to mumble and kept asking for a smoke.

I was reminded about my life, how we all kicking and stubbornly sometimes did enter the house of God. How messy and sinful my life was and the constant unchanging love of God kept pursuing me and wooing me, to believe His love was real and that I could trust Him. Even when He had brought me in, I wanted to run away, I kicked and ran back as a dog returns to its vomit. Still He pursued, I slipped out of His hands many times, but still His hands kept holding on. Tears ran down my cheek as I sat in the bus and memories started flashing before me. I once was lost, laid bare, enslaved and there was no one who looked at me with mercy. All I got was scorn and people shaking their heads off, walking away. When this man, for no reason came by, wiped my vomit, cleaned me and took me in to the safety of his arms.

All the while I was anxiously looking for the church, I was thinking that it was I who had travelled down and went there to see and meet the church. But quite before I actually went to meet her, the church met me. I went to ‘see’ how they were, and I actually saw in utter disbelief how I was. While enroute to the church of Jesus Christ, I passed by people in need, I looked at them with contempt, I didn’t want to mess myself up there, in fact I had felt I was too good. But, the church helped me experience the Love of God, it didn’t pass by me without making me much softer and tender, without making an influence on my life.

I awaited Jesus to meet me in the church, while He met me on the street where I was, totally lost, helpless, out of my mind, shameless and in a state much worse than the lady.

Ah! There we were all at Hillsongs, we all got down, what an incredible experience was it at the church. Well, I think I better write another blog about it. God Bless.

Tags: Abuse, Church, Drugs, God, Hillsong, Love, Paramatta, Sydney

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 10th, 2009 at 1:51 pm and is filed under Articles, Blesson, Grace, Life Lessons, Religions, Society, Spiritual, Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.