Sharon Eappen

       Why do I have to cover my hair when in worship? Is it because I'm a woman? Is it because it is written that I must? Oh, do you not read Scripture with contextual understanding?       Am I, then, a disgrace if my head is uncovered but my dress still modest? Are you assigning a certain costum onto me - that has no relevance right now - just because I belong to a certain gender? Why are we expected to have our dupattas draped over our hair then? And why only us, women?       Don't teach me to cover myself with a shawl over my head. Teach me, instead, to cover myself with humility, respect, love and compassion. Don't teach me about women submissiveness. Teach both the men and the women about the same humility, respect, love and compassion.       Teach us both to stand in reverence and have a heart of purity as we stand in worship beside each other, facing the same altar. Teach us to bear with each other...

Teach me. To walk in holy paths To seek your face To use time. Teach me. To walk away From vibes negative To cut the unnecessary. Teach me. To love Even when it's hard Even if it stabs. Teach me. To let go. To distance from Burdens unnecessary. Teach me. To be wise To know the difference The fake and genuine. Teach me. With patience and love. A fountain of mercy An ocean of grace. Teach me. Painfully mould me. This time I won't Complain or whine. Teach me. Within my heart Stir a burning desire To know you more. Teach me. The light and darkness And the circle Of contextual ethics. Teach me. To drink pain Willingly as it Cleanses my heart. Teach me. The unknown and Less known Unveil whatever is To be known, Creator and Master Of all things, Known and unknown. 25.09.17

We're broken pieces You and I. May be we could fit in Do you have enough room? We're broken pieces Stabbed with friendship And love that was Only a lesson. We're broken pieces May be together We could be A pretty mosaic. We're broken pieces But aren't mosaics pretty? The random scattering, The visual playing with your mind. We're broken pieces The ones that need  No mending Only time will. We're broken pieces You were always there When I broke down Even when you didn't know why. We're broken pieces May be I'll tell it to you Some other day When it hurts lesser. We're broken pieces Let me cry  On your shoulder. Let me hold your hand Safely in mine Through the bumpy ride. Let my tears speak For all that is to be said, As I feel the pulse of Your palm beat against mine. 22.09.17

      Being an MK (Missionary Kid) is quite an adventure. So why not talk about it? " Being a missionary kid is a unique, precious and beautiful journey. Ok, so there's my statement. 'Yeah,' you look at the screen, 'suuuure... Let's start at page one, shall we?'  If you're an MK chances are  you've got 'THIRD CULTURE KID' stamped on your forehead as well. Yes, I'm the son of a Malayalee father and a Dutch mother and yes, neither of their ethnicities blend with the people God has called them to work with. However, that certainly doesn't mean I feel like I've just stepped out of a UFO every morning I exit the front door. Growing up with two or more coinciding cultures is, in my opinion, the healthiest environment for growth, learning and a widening of perspective. I admit it's a sort of roller coaster ride- there are peaks and not-so-high-peaks  (ahem...) but every time I look back on my seventeen-year-short missiona...

Lie down, won't you? Let us watch the stars As they travel across the sky From east to west. See the nothingness surround them And surround us. I've never seen anything Prettier than this. Stand by me, won't you? And look up for them. Search for those constellations An astrophile yourself. May be, beneath it I may open up Just a little more May be you'll see My rawest side And I'll see yours May be we could Pray beneath the stars If no one's around. Or just stay silent Listening to the sound Of silence. Can you see how those lights Have endless reaches between them? But down here, they're complete. One artistic piece of beauty. Can't you see how Gazing at them can be addictive? Are we rather different If we find their beauty Something that consoles Whatever is within us? Are we strange  If we'd stargaze all night, Either in solitude Or with the right compa...

I stop mid sentence Where the words I truly want to utter Evaporate. Everyone feels this way, They say, but no one shows it. We're all a facade Of beauty, happiness and satisfaction. Poke us a little and you'll see Oozing out of it a trickle of loneliness, A scintilla of pain and chunks Of brokenness all sprinkled With sorrow, embarrassment And messed up tales. But it's all covered. We don't show the wound, Not even the bandages For our stories are submerged in layers Of concealer that has nothing to do With cosmetics. It is Polished and edited, When it doesn't need any, The honest and raw ones are What we require. But if brokenness was a person, You'd see it being ostracised. In your home, school or church, it'll Be the last person to enter, Because you don't want to see it. It senses the unwantedness, the feeling Of awkwardness running in your veins. While many face the fear Of rejection, we reject our whole selves O...

It's the feeling of feeling nothing, however hard you try. It's the feeling of an aching heart that's had too much, a chest that's too tired to take deep breaths in or a body that's too tired to get out of bed. Numb. But not numbness of the flesh, numbness of the mind. It's when there's so much to do and you don't know how to. It's when there's too little to think about and hardly any time to write something like this down. It's the feeling of pain, pressure and expectations succumbing you to the point where you actually need air, where you can truly appreciate going out for an evening walk. It's when you think you'll be the luckiest person on the planet if you get time to watch the sunset or stargaze because it's one of those therapies that can fill what you've lost and with what you love. It's when you feel you can't feel anything because you've become a robot - mechanically fulfilling your task...