God's Masterpiece

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.

2 Corinthians 9:8

As me and some friends sat down yesterday eve to recount the year 2007 over kebabs and some of the best roast chicken (thanks Ovie!), words like "blessing", "favor", and "wonderful" were plentiful. We ran out of superlatives to describe God's goodness. Our God has been exceedingly benevolent, surprisingly provident, persistently faithful, a loving teacher.

And as we talked, one thing became clear - in the midst of the greatest trial and difficulty, the best response was to thank God. Without doubt there are several things that have made you, as they have me, feel ungrateful, but then when we take a look at things and see our situation through His eyes, we realize that all things do work together for our good, who have been called according to God's purpose (Romans 8:28).

Some of us look toward 2008 with a sense of apprehension and uncertainty; it's never comfortable not to know what the future holds. For others there is a sense of expectancy and promise as we look towards another year of blessing, favor and wonder. Whichever the case, the best lesson I've learned for 2007 I'll carry over to the next year, and that is - be patient. God is at work and it never did anyone any good to rush Him.

It is so easy to want to handle our own lives, to take the paint brush and finish our own portrait. But as you step forward into the new year, take a step back, remember the mess you have made when you've done it your way, and turn the brush over to the Master. Give him a fresh new canvas to work it. It will take time, and His brushstrokes are not always pleasant, but He works with love and care, and when He has finished His Masterpiece, "you" will have been worth the wait.

God bless you in 2008.

With love, Doosuur.

Celebrate Jesus, Celebrate

Once again the star appeared to them, guiding them to Bethlehem… When they saw the star, they were filled with joy! They entered the house where the child and his mother, Mary, were, and they fell down before him and worshiped him.

Matthew 2:9-11

I'm not a festive person by any stretch of the imagination, and all the fuss over grumpy old men in red jump suits and glittery Christmas décor can easily be lost on me. Left to me I could go the whole season without putting up a Christmas tree or turning on a decorative light.

But as I meandered slowly home this evening, something caught my eye. Someone had put up a Star of David in bright Christmas lights on the transmission mast of the local TV station. It looked beautiful as it hung there, glowing against the starless sky. I couldn't help going back in my mind to that cold, lonely night so many years ago, when three sages, tired and hungry from a never-ending journey finally came upon their quarry - a little, frail baby in the company of goats and chickens. The rest of the world was unsuspecting. But they knew better. They knew there was reason to celebrate. Their travels must have taken weeks, if not months, but this single moment in time made it all worthwhile. Christ was born! And how they celebrated!

The very word "celebrate" conjures up images of joy, happiness and ecstasy and, get this, action. It is not passive in any way. It is a deliberate effort to rejoice because of something good. I think it's a good thing that the whole world stops, for a few days in December just to celebrate. They may do it for whatever reason, but I think it's healthy.

Perhaps we spend a little too much time sitting in judgment over those who choose to have a good time at Christmas because they do not know "the reason for the season". Imagine if Nigeria won the World Cup and then, all of a sudden the Cameroonians declared a public holiday and thronged the streets to sing songs of joy. What would we do? Fold our hands and ask how dare they celebrate? I think not. No. We would simply go all the way out and out-celebrate them. If they try to crash our party, we'll simply party all the harder.

Think about it. So many people don't get the point. And yet they rejoice. What about you? You have a great reason to celebrate. His name is Jesus! So let it out - sing, shout, dance, have fun. Celebrate Jesus this Christmas. For unto us a Child is born… Oh Yes!

With love, Doosuur.

Are You Ready To Live?

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me.

Philippians 1:21,22

My life flashed before my eyes today when, through a foolishly heroic act, I was exposed to what may be a potentially lethal dose of a deadly virus. For not the first time in my life I was faced with the real possibility of death and I asked myself that all-important question, "are you ready to die?"

I must admit I felt a little smug as I answered myself. Yes I'm ready to meet my Maker. Yes I know where I will go. I may not have lived the most fulfilling life, but yes I am reasonably satisfied. Yes I am ready to die. Perhaps I too, like Paul could proudly say, "for me to live is Christ, to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21) Indeed the thought of dying is scary. But the thought of death, that is, well, almost comforting.

But then as my mind wandered further, I recalled an Easter Sunday sermon in a missionary village several years ago. It was the same village where the white missionaries had come to die after first encountering this virus back in the 60s. In his discourse, the parson narrated how, during his honeymoon he had gallantly told his bride, "I love you so much, I could die for you." She summarily burst his bubble when she replied, "I don't want you to die for me. Dying is easy. I want you to live for me."

Too true. As ironic as it may seem, it is entirely plausible that the single most selfish thing I could do right now is to die. I am not living for myself. I am living for people. And I am living for Christ. It's too easy to focus on the "die is gain" part and neglect the "live is Christ" portion of Paul's earth-moving statement. I have a responsibility to live. A responsibility to my parents. To my family. To my friends. To my children, when indeed I get them. I have a responsibility to tens and hundreds of people I have never met.

And all of a sudden it came to me. God expects of me to do my utmost not to die. So long as I can, I must go on living. To live, that is Christ. No easy way out for me. So, for your information, I'll be around for some while longer. I will live and not die, not just yet.

With love, Doosuur.

Unclean, unclean!

Come, you who are blessed by my Father … For I was hungry, and you fed me... I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me.

Matthew 25:34-36

Working in a hospital can be quite a morbid occupation. I was just now listening to the familiar rattle of the gurney as two morgue attendants pushed on their next patron, once a vivacious tyke, now all wrapped up in the garb of death. A solemn coda for a boisterous existence. He came in with much fanfare, now he leaves all alone. Joy at his entry, pain and bitterness as he leaves.

Working in the infectious diseases unit of the hospital, death has, sadly enough for me, become a very important part of life. The fastest means for any of my patients to leave the hospital is through the very curiously-named Ward Zero. The burden of HIV and AIDS cuts very deeply into the fabric of our society and it is too often ignored. No single ailment cuts down our life expectancy as does AIDS. It is ever present; you probably know someone who has to deal with it on a daily basis. But sadly, we seem to say too little about it and do even less.

Once upon a time, the Jews had such a scourge. They called it leprosy. Those who were so unfortunate as to suffer this skin infection were ostracized. A sign was hung on their necks and they would cry "unclean, unclean" as they walked by so no good Jew would be contaminated by touching them or, perhaps, by staring at them too long. Theirs was a sorry existence, at the mercy of society, of the priest, of God and precious few ever had anything to smile about. They would slowly but surely endure a rash, then lose feeling in their limbs and then watch helplessly as their fingers and toes fell of, one after the other. A gut-wrenching sentence for anyone who first heard the pronouncement, "unclean".

But then, sure as ever, Jesus steps in. The King of Glory comes down and walks among men. And his best friends? Look no further than the very outcasts of society. Do you remember Simon the Leper? Rivaled only by Mary and Martha in his hospitality; perhaps indeed he was their father. Don't now forget those ten men, crying their bothersome refrain at the Samarian border. "Unclean, unclean" they chant, until they meet the Master. And with a look and a word they are clean again.

Today, we have the opportunity to be Jesus to just such as these. People with little to be joyful about. What would Jesus do? He would touch them, he would love them, indeed he would heal them - body and soul. December 1 is World AIDS day. Let us take the opportunity to remind God about those whom society loves to hate, the very people He would love to love.

With love, Doosuur.