A Daughter’s Homecoming

In my teenage years, I used to be a part of the worship team in the church where my father pastored. The tag of being a ‘pastor’s kid’ automatically put me under the scanner; every move I made was watched by more than one pair of eyes. One Sunday, we had a guest pastor visiting us. Prior to his visit, I got the news that I was not in his good books. After the service, we usually had the church members coming home to have lunch for which this guest pastor joined as well. While having lunch, he asked me, in front of everybody, to go out to the patio with him as he wanted to talk to me personally. Although I frowned at his proposition as I questioned his intentions, I did as I was told—like a good pastor’s kid. Trust me, it was no pep talk.

“Sandy, I saw you opening your eyes every now and then during the worship time!” he said in a condemning tone. He went on to give me a lecture on the importance of closing one’s eyes during worship time and, not to forget, other synonymous uncalled advice. I nodded my head and said ‘thank you’—like a good pastor’s kid—but the scene inside my head was very different. I had a set of comebacks that I wanted to use against him but I kept silent since I did not want to put my parents in the bad light. I thought to myself—“What was he doing with his eyes open?” Maybe I was sincere or maybe not; I don’t remember but what I do remember is how that conversation made me feel. Sometimes, the strength of our faith is often tied to our perception of God.

I started to second-guess everything; a kind of spiritual paranoia had crept in. I trod very carefully when people tried to thrust their expectations and idea of God for me. I pulled away from God because I felt like I fell short of the expectations He had for me. I wore a mask so that people wouldn’t know who I was. Forget about anyone else, I don’t think I knew who I was. A classic case of an identity crisis. I should have run towards God at this time and truly understand my Father and the complete essence of being His daughter instead I chose to run away. The road was long but I did find my way back.

Fast forward to 2021 February, I heard that my dad was diagnosed with a serious illness and that he had to undergo major surgery. Right at that time, we were looking at selling our house in the U.K. as my husband’s job was moving us to Singapore. So, we were planning on going to India but not as quickly as everything turned out. When we were informed of the severity of my father’s condition, we quickly made arrangements for the house and furniture and moved all our boxes to an AirBnB accommodation. We came to India and my dad died in 15 days of us being there. It hit us hard; like a lightning. We were crushed during that time and the idea of transition from one place to another seemed like an arduous task.  

In the meantime, our house in the U.K. got sold and we got the money we needed. As we were not getting entry into Singapore from India, we decided to do a stopover at Thailand where travellers were getting an entry post the stipulated quarantine period. By God’s grace, our family reached Thailand safely. Towards the end of our quarantine period, Joel was diagnosed with Covid-19 and then after a couple of days Sairah, our daughter. Thankfully, neither of them had symptoms, just a positive PCR test. However, the Thai rules and regulations required him then Sairah to be shifted to a hospital facility. Imagine my plight!—no friends, no family, in this foreign land. It felt like there was one thing after the other—A tornado of sorts. I didn’t know what to say or do.

During this time, we had a couple of Christians people probably well-meaning calling us, and began to question and ask us if we were doing something that wasn’t pleasing to God. But I was not my teenager self anymore. By this time, I was closer to God and refused to nod to their idea. Their statements somehow implied that God is not present in times of suffering; the Lord is not merciful or kind. Which was far from the truth present in His Word. 

The more I have spent time with God, I have realised that suffering is a part of Christian life. Our suffering is not some unique anomaly; it is a universal experience. It happens because we live in a broken world. Suffering can be torturous if we don’t accept it as a part of earth’s topography to cross on our way to heaven. For days, I struggled. I even felt alone at times. However, I am so thankful for a handful of friends who took time out to speak God’s word into my life. They kept on reminding us that God is not like a human being, that He is there for us no matter what and that we needed to shift our perspective. It was then that we were fully reminded again that God loves us deeply, with no strings attached. The idea of being completely secure in that truth. It was a homecoming for me, all over again. Coming home to Jesus!

I had this idea that God’s love for me can be measured in His blessings. If something did not go right, I was told that God did not love me or He is punishing me. This idea that if God truly loved me, He wouldn’t give me this pain was pumped into my head for a long time. But this time, when suffering hit us, it did not take me long to understand that all these statements are lies—lies that I needed to unlearn. I had more clarity on this aspect than ever before; much better than my teenage years, I should say. Also, the portion from the Scripture that kept me going is—“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So, let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete needing nothing” (James 1: 2-5).

Over time I have learned that my faith has to supersede my circumstances. What happens in my life is not an indication of His love, He loves us regardless. He wants us to draw closer to Him; He wants to show Himself—unveil His Shekinah glory. The older I got, the more I had learned, the more I had learned, the less I knew but what I know and I really know, this with my whole heart is that God loves me and God loves you. This truth has changed the trajectory of my life. For I have every confidence that nothing—not death, life, heavenly messengers, dark spirits, the present, the future, spiritual powers, height, depth, nor any created thing—can come between us and the love of God revealed in the Anointed Jesus our Lord (Romans 8: 38-39 THE VOICE).

Yes, we feel defeated when plans don’t work out the way we hoped. We, as humans, have this tendency to put labels of shame and guilt on our situation instead of having hope and trusting in the love of God. The same love that made Him send His son Jesus to die—a brutal death—on the cross of Calvary for our sins. In order for a resurrection to happen on a Sunday, He needed to die on Friday. I know the feeling of being lost, defeated and heartbroken. But a fact that I have been reminding myself is that God knows you and me by name; He knows our yesterday, today and tomorrow. He knows our whole story, our flaws and the tales of the all the time we have faltered, and yet, HE LOVES US DEEPLY. Jesus has already carried the weight that you are carrying right now, even the sin that shames you, He bore it on the cross so that you can walk victoriously. We still don’t know when we will get to travel to Singapore but one thing we do know is that—In all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). For now, we just want to be in the centre of His will and we are ready for God’s adventures!