Christmas; The Greatest Gift Of All
About the Book: The Diary of Festivities aims at collaborating the different festivals of the country and penning it down by different writers. It also brings out joy, and love, and the bond between people.
About the Piece: Christmas; The Greatest Gift Of All, Easter; The Significance of the Cross & Pentecost; Anointing of the Holy Spirit in The Diary of Festivities; Edited & Compiled by Ishani Agarwal, Independently published by Notion Press; 5 November 2019
Angels sing songs to our stagnant spirits,
frequently lost in the new world
by announcing the birth of our Savior,
joyfully born into our hearts.
Christ is an agape that renews, purifies, and restores
tired, weary, desperate, broken minds,
filling hungry and thirsty souls
with everlasting food and drink
(not the physical kind we enjoy momentarily)
but with spiritual fruits that nourish us eternally
and need to be shared with everyone.
They will unchain imprisoned bodies
with the knowledge of His great mercy,
through compassion for hearts
too wretched to accept themselves.
How easily we forget in our monotonous living
what this beautiful day actually means.
Caught up in the act
of gift giving and receiving,
gossip and external niceties,
we miss the fundamental truth
that Christmas is a festival
freely given from the King above
as the greatest gift of Love.
Easter; The Significance of the Cross
I don’t believe God is like the God we place in a box. I think he’s going to forever be beyond our understanding. He created us so He knows the way we think, not in the way humanity does–– through eyes that notice colors, genders, sexes, nationalities, sins, mental disorders, physical disabilities, and temptations. He sees each one as perfect, as a whole being, and loves us individually, as if we were the only ones in the world. His love is pure, perfect, and everlasting and He’ll die in His legendary great passion to deliver us, unworthy sinners by rescuing us in the daily cross of our deaths for that one day, when we look up––destitute, aimless, hopeless in our hope to find Him always there, waiting––arms stretched wide open in Love. When we finally learn to surrender, we rediscover this amazing grace enveloping our hearts, minds, and bodies with its complete lack of expectation in an embrace of unconditional warmth, touching and healing our broken spirits. When we stop holding on to our crosses selfishly but offer them to Him for the salvation of many, they all get absorbed in His cross, already conquered through His passion, death, and resurrection) serving a higher purpose that encompasses humanity, magically curing the resentment and bitterness of the past in those lives we have given them up for.
For the cross has always been the stone which many builders rejected, never having recognized it before. Yet He receives each cross gladly, transforming what evil planned to destroy into glorious witnesses for the world to see.
No longer are we condemned to the world of mortality for the superhero of superheros has given himself completely opening the way to eternity through the cross. It is this overwhelming mystery that we celebrate as the Passover of our Lord, our Easter in this marked time of benevolent grace because He who bore all earthly suffering was God himself, cloaked in humility, human fragility magnificently exalted, willingly dying as a sacrificial lamb, persecuted like a criminal.
Easter eggs, hot cross buns, night vigils, and masses in sequence… How we complain without ever comprehending, that talking about bunnies and chickens have no real place of honor in the reality of what we are celebrating––Eternal Life.
Anthology Scribbles: Overall, I was glad that the anthology gave me the chance to find a home for these three writings that depict the love I have for my Beloved Weaver, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit whom I adore utterly.
Note of Appreciation: I am grateful that I was asked by Ishani Agarwal to submit these three pieces in The Diary of Festivities.
Pentecost; Anointing of the Holy Spirit
There is a presence older than the ocean's song,
or a mountain's voice or even the screeching owl's.
It rushes past in strength and stealth
invisible to the eye but felt upon our skin,
raising goosebumps and squeezing tears
out of hearts grown too numb to care.
It slides into view like a tornado's symphony,
heralding things to come, a sober prophecy.
Its subtle nudge shakes us back and forth
to accept change with courage,
to take heed of circumstances,
to move forward in action,
to become our full potential,
and to face all our fears.
This mighty fierce and relentless power
extends within like an unseen hand
to touch and center the organs of our bodies,
breathing in its wisdom, igniting,
and reviving dried up blood and aching muscles,
resetting our sunken spirits’ software
that had long forgotten its nature and purposeful calling.
It completes the gaping holes of emptiness
that we tirelessly seek to fill
with other momentary pleasures.
This constantly urging soft and gentle breeze
is the breath of God we adore,
and long to reunite with as one
with every beat of our hearts.