The Grand Weaver

Yesterday was just a day of tweaking my blogspot. I wasn't able to post anything. It just wouldn't post. Good for me I had an xml back up of the whole blog. I backed it up before I added some applications. I think some of the application's html messes up with the other widgets. But it took me five hours of tweaking before I used my back up. Well that was because I just wanted to know the applications that was causing the problem. And luckily I found some culprit. But there were still others but I was very tired so I decided that it's enough for the day and I just used the back up. And it works fine again. Good feeling. 

Since it's working again let me just tell you what I had been wanting to tell you all along. It's about some of the books that helped a multitude of others around the world. These multitude are real people with real questions, problems and needs. They were drawn to these books because they see themselves in the stories. Those stories are real life drama with a worldwide perspective but woven with it are the universal principles which everyone of us cannot escape one way or another.
As Stuart McAllister puts it "The deepest convictions of our heart are often formed by the stories and reside there in the images and emotions of a story".

One of the books that I have is The Grand Weaver by Ravi Zacharias. This is what the book's description  tells us "...it is  full of penetrating stories and insights. Dr. Zacharias examines our backgrounds, our disappointments, our triumphs, and our beliefs, and explains how they are all part of the intentional and perfect work of the Grand Weaver."

For someone like me who had experienced how to be treated unfairly since I was a little kid by someone who is very close to me and then suffered so much rejection at the time when I was in college coupled with the death of my dear mother and so many other things,I had the same questions as others have. "What is the purpose for a well meaning person that suffered so much where there is nothing in his heart but only to serve others?" Is there an overarching purpose that we cannot see but is already set before us? Is it all our doing or is there a Grand Weaver that will give meaning to all of these tragedies? 

Well I know what the answer is at least for myself  and my questions. And it's quite an exceptional feeling to have a definite answer to these questions and have peace as a by product. Yes books can help.

The Villager's Tragedy

There was a great commotion going on in that little barangay(barangay is the local term for village in the Philippines).  People were running from all directions to a little prayer house made of bamboo and nipa leaves. The ground is dry and with each feet in haste dust filled the air. Some of the women are shouting. "Hurry!We need to get there as soon as possible". Worry fills the air. There was a kind of dread on the faces of the mothers who knew what was going on. 

This village is like one big family deeply concerned with each other. You can trace their ancestry and you'll find out that most of the people are related by blood. And there were a few who were just neighbors.

A woman was crying vehemently. All others that saw her, cried with her. The men were shocked. On the altar was a 2 year old boy not breathing at all. No pulse. The fingers were violet in color. The face was pale. He was there for almost an hour. Her mother and others found him hanging on a 220 volts of live electrical wire, already dead. He was very dear to her and to that little village.

Emotions rise up. Questions were asked. "Why did she bring the baby on the prayer house instead of bringing him to the hospital?", the women relatives asked. "The boy was already dead. We found him with his hands on the electrical wire already dead and the hospital is an hour from here. Fourty minutes had already gone and we do not even have a car. Don't judge the mother. She loves him and this is her way of grieving", said the men.  "If the same happens to you, you will definitely feel helpless like her and the only hope that you can have is God", said an old man who is respected in that place. And the women were hushed.

Meanwhile the mother was in deep anguished and she was praying in a loud voice asking God for the boy's life. Oh how she loves her child!  She was asking for a miracle. What she didn't know was that her asking for a miracle was a miracle in itself. What kind of courageous faith can true love gives to a man, like this mother, she was able to ask for the seemingly impossible. She stayed there for another hour of intense praying and sobbing and loud cries.  The women left one by one. Only a handful of them remained. All the men stayed together with the husband. The boy still on the altar.

Tragedy due to our carelessness or tragic things that we do not have control could happen to any of us and we can answer one way or the other. We can feel sorry for ourselves and remain unproductive or we can ask for the help of another to ease our pain. 

That incident in a little village called Laiya Ibabao happened 6 years ago if my memory does not fail me. It's the time when the most unexpected and amazing thing happened- a 2 year old boy who was dead for more than an hour was now living with his parents in that same little old village with all their relatives and other's who were just neighbors.