Testimony
Suresh Abreu
TestimonySuresh Abreu |
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Just as physical life at the point of conception is a mystery too wonderful for words (Psalm 139.13-18), so also is the conception of spiritual life for all those who are born of the Spirit (John 3.8). I am grateful to be one of the myriads who can bear testimony to the birth and nurture of HIS life (John 1.4,13). My testimony is a testimony that is ratified by a cloud of witnesses, for all Lord’s children in our unique ways bear a similar witness ((Heb 12.1) -- Christ in us the Hope of glory (Col 1.27b). My testimony testifies of HIM even JESUS CHRIST the mystery that was hid, who now has been revealed to all those who are born of HIM and not the least me (Col. 1.26,27). Although fearfully and wonderfully made, on October of 1950 I was thrust from the comfort of my mother’s womb into a world of sin, born in sin, relentlessly crying, unconsciously wailing for my redemption from day one! (Rom 8.20-23). My birth place was Goa, India. My home was an exceedingly loving home. After the arrival of my brother Dilip in 1955 the brood was complete. My mother drawing her analogy from the Roman Catholic rosary, chose to call us her 5 joyful mysteries although we were quite capable of driving the most resilient weary. I recall my youth as being distinctly different from the rest of my siblings. They all seemed to be endowed with a sense of purpose and focus in the natural realm, while I mused at the comedy of life. I disliked school and loovveed play. I think to some degree I was born to be metaphysical, and whether I would be of any earthly good was anybodies guess. My family was Roman Catholic. We believed in Jesus without knowing HIM personally. By the time I was in 9th grade I had my own little theory on God. It went something like this. Since man is matter and embodies spirit so the Universe must surely be God since it encompasses the totality of matter and therefore must possess totality of spirit. After losing a year in school owing to poor grades, I finally (eventually} made it to college, where I got interested in Marxism, and some of the philosophy of the counter culture being popularized in the west. Around that time I had (have) a dear friend, who was an Asian Indian student from East Africa studying in Bombay. I’d hang out with him at his hostel pretty regularly, smoking pot, and being mezmorized by Bob Dylan, the Cream, and other provocative music being churned out by the counter culture. But Lord has his precious witnesses everywhere, and another hostelite (Lue) a Malaysian student, asked me if I would attend a Christian camp with him. I hardly knew this precious man, but he was so gracious and sincere that I was embarrassed to turn his offer down. I agreed to go. This was November of 1970. The camp lasted for three days being led by three missionaries. The schedule was intense. Morning, afternoon, and evening they talked about JESUS, JESUS, and more JESUS. Hear was metaphysics personified -- the intangible Christ calling for a commitment. And for the first time, that which is not seen but which most assuredly is frightened me (2 Cor 4.18). The lectures focused on three themes. JESUS was predicted. JESUS fulfilled his predictions. JESUS was trustworthy, but would I trust HIM.? All through the lectures I recall, I’d constantly be bobbing up my hand to interrupt the speakers and ask yet another question. But these missionaries were as kind as kind could be, entertaining my interruptions with the grace of Christ. The last night by a campfire we were asked if there were any who would commit their lives to JESUS. The Holy Spirit moved and it took me a long minute to utter a very short sentence: “JESUS, I believe you exist, come into my heart.” -- and I heard one of the missionaries say “Amen.” At age 20 I was born again. Thank you JESUS. Just to think I found Life of my life as a result of not wishing to turn the request of one who invited me to a Christian camp for fear of disappointing him! It was Nov. 5, 1970 that I was born again. On returning from the camp, I approached my mother who was washing her hands at the sink, and told her I had given my heart to JESUS, and I thought to myself she must think I’m “nuts.” (I once said to someone, “I maybe nuts but I’m happy.”) The first 4 years of my life as a born again Christian were distinct, but in all honesty depressingly unhappy. I had Christ, but no joy whatsoever. Paradoxical. JESUS was in, but He was confined, and there was no release of the Spirit. The old man ruled me while the New man convicted me, and the resultant civil war within me consumed me. In early 1974 Bombay was caught in the wave of revival being experienced in the Roman Catholic charismatic movement. Meetings were being held at a RC institution. For three to four months I went to a weekly prayer meeting where many prayed for the Holy Spirit to be released in them. I did too. However, there was no change in the depressive ideation that oppressed me alluded to in the previous paragraph. In October 1974, my depression had reached an all time high, to the point of feeling suicidal. For almost 15 days I rolled and reeled on my bed demonically oppressed by the evil one attempting if he could to destroy me (1 Peter 5.8, Eph 6.12). But our Lord answers prayer. On one day in October of 1974, I got up FULL OF THE JOY OF THE LORD. He baptized me to over-flowing, and joy unspeakable (Acts 19.2, Acts 8.15). I KNEW, THAT I KNEW, THAT I KNEW, that JESUS was my LORD (Matt 16.17). Hitherto, I had relied on apologetics and convincing arguments made by knowledgeable Christians to support my faith. I since have never needed such support. The Spirit bears witness with my spirit that I am His (Rom 8.16) and with the hymn writer, I am now able to say: "I need no other argument, I need no other plea, it is enough that JESUS died and that HE died for me.” Thank you, and may Jesus be your Lord as well.