On God, Life and Death

Eastrine Kire

Lothunglo Mozhui has a degree in English Literature from Delhi University, and she is a graduate of Delhi School of Music. That in itself is a perfect combination for making a beautiful product, and the result has been a marvellous little book that is honest, intimate and a blessing sprinkler. I have lent out my copy only once, and since then have jealously replaced it on my book shelf. Everybody else should get their own copy and be blest by it.  

The book contains many biographical and personal experiences, and the most personal experience of all, her walk with God. By virtue of that, it has the quality of resonating in readers’ hearts, and pulls them away from the tendency to moan, “Why me Lord?” Although the author has suffered two strokes as an SLE patient, this is not a Why me Lord book.   It is cheerful and thankful, while being honestly inclusive of the tough times she went through. 

“God makes all things good,” she writes. “I thank Him first of all, for using me even when I felt unusable. I thank Him for the troubled times He made me pass through. The result is this little book.  

She calls the book, a collection of thoughts that drifted through my mind during the period of my recovery. These are thoughts that emerged to the surface when faced with times of heavy trials. I think it is at times like these that you hear the voice of God much clearer.  

Matthew 10.27 (Voice): “And you should proclaim in the bright light of day everything that I have whispered to you in the dark. Whatever whispers you hear – shout them from the rooftops of houses.” Yes a mere whisper then becomes more distinct and clear as it spoken through a megaphone. Some of what God spoke to me in soft murmurs during my darkest hours are in this book. This is my way of shouting them from the rooftops. It is a gentle book that whispers rather than shouts. The biggest element of the book is gratitude: gratefulness for her earthly existence, ‘and the chance to live, to be alive.’ Life becomes even more precious when threatened by a severe haemorrhage. I suppose only when we come that close to losing it, will we truly appreciate it.  

Lothunglo writes that in this period of sickness, she learned to listen, “really listen and take time to understand what He is trying to tell me.“  

She gives a beautiful example using images from music. According to her, melodic music played in major chords can end up sounding boring. But it is the minor chords and diminished chords, and ‘a dash of dominant and augmented chords’ and the ‘suspended and borrowed chords’ which give a piece a fascinating quality. Her own life has had more than sufficient of such chords to the extent that the music threatened to turn into discordant cacophony. But she bravely maintains that, “happiness is not always a major chord.”  

Going through what she calls mean and rough times, her own ‘refiner’s fire’ this is what she has to say about metal that goes through the refining process.  The metal is burnt. The dross is removed. And notice, the refiner has to keep a close and constant watch on it, for it if is left too long, the metal is harmed. When it is taken out of the furnace, it is gold, pure gold.   What a truly inspiring lesson to get out of the refining that life puts us through. Her wise notes on family, friendship, mistakes, honesty, tears, pain and death are beautifully illustrated by Naga artist Canato. 

Lothunglo brings a new perspective to these subjects, and for her, the glue that keeps it all together is the love of the Father, the restorer, the one who makes sense of it all. This is not a grim book on suffering and pain. It has so much other to offer. Laughter, Freedom, and Hope are the last pieces in the book. What a carefully executed movement by a musically sensitive writer. The book ends with a letter from God to his ‘dearest child, the apple of his eye’ reassuring her in the most tender language of his constant love and presence in her life.  

Lothunglo’s gift is meditative and thoughtful, but also makes you break out into a smile of empathetic understanding at the writer’s inner journey, and the shared emotions that accompany it. Each piece could have been an aria that could be played or sung. They would surely have sounded like the exquisite music she writes about.  These are the ‘songs’ she has generously shared with us. May your spirit hear them.