Questions and Concerns

by John Biswas

Dear God,

Please hear my questions and concerns?

You came to me in a dream one night when I was eight years old. You called me by name and invited me to come up and talk to you. I left my sleeping body and arose through the roof of my house and into the clouds. You confirmed with me of who I was speaking with and asked me if I trust You? My first response upon meeting You that night was “if your God, then of course I trust You.” Isn’t it ironic that iron sharpens iron the same way this question has followed me like a shadow, forcing me to trust the hope of the light before me.

God, when I returned from my dream and awoke in my bed, I was enchanted. I emphatically told my mother about this dream as though the race or journey had started. My mother intrigued by my excitement, she herself did not receive an invitation, neither did my father or siblings. My mothers inquiry about my dream was extravagant, misleading and concerning. My fathers reaction was boundless creativity, free of opposition, and intelligently rebellious. My siblings cast me away like a heavy stone, a burden not worthy to bare. My dream foretold the words I dared to speak to my family and in God I trust, I did so.

God, I was so lucky, blessed, with the most beautiful and intelligent parents. My mother was agnostically brilliant. Her younger sister was killed in a car accident when she was 16 and her father died in her driveway when she was 19. She wasn’t a big fan of Your work, especially when I told her what happened in my dream. My father turned out to be one of my life’s most interesting life lesson. He was literally legendary. Perfect on his s.a.t.’s hand picked by UPenn, full ride, double major, phd architecture and a masters in photography. He worked for National Geographic and a head photographer for Playboy magazine. Famous people came over to our house to ask him for advise, he was charming, mysterious, a Hindu man.

God, from the age of eight to eleven I almost feel as if I was robbed of my childhood. I contemplated philosophical views ,and spent a lot of time in silence, while my parents ran medical evaluations on me and discussed placement. I knew that I had been set apart from my family. Still no words can describe the depths of sorrow, the yearning for your loved ones. At the age of eleven, my siblings and I, along with mother lost our father (husband). My father Dillip Kumar Biswas, a pedestrian leaving work down the sidewalk and drunk driver in a stolen car runs up on the sidewalk and takes my father out of my life? My mother used to say “you can catch more flies with honey then with vinegar.” Sorry God, that was the final straw. My mother gave up trying, I stood up for You, she sent Us to boarding school.

God when I returned home at 16 I had a moment with my mother that I will never forget. From afar I watched my siblings and my mother communicate. They shared laughter and joy. There were kisses, hugs, and tears. Words like “ I love you and I’ll miss you” were exchanged. When my siblings had departed the presence of my mother I approached her. She sat alone at her small mahogany desk, whisking through papers. From the doorway I stood about six feet away. While taking a step towards my mother I opened my arms and asked my mother “mom, can I have a hug?” My mother looked up at me from her paperwork, stumbled out of her chair to her feet, shoving me away. My mother stood, again six feet away from me. My heart sunk, it has taken me a long time to discover what being an empath means. “ mom, I’ve notice that you and my siblings don’t express love and compassion with me, why is that?” I asked my mother. Her response was “ John, you are not my child anymore. I gave you to God, your Gods child. If you need love go to God.” I humbled myself that day, maybe even too hard. Our relationship strengthened that day immeasurably. My prophetic nature came alive along with my endless vulnerability.

God the spirit of rebellion became my consigliere for at least a decade. I filled my testimony with trials, tribulation, high stake gambling, and altered states of consciousness. I stepped into the prophetic yet unknown territories boldly. With beginners luck I often rose victoriously before a swift wind blew everything out from under me. My rise and falls have mirrored ying and yang. Surely I know dharma and karma. The gifts You gave me have grown like a seed planted near a spring. Though weathered in seasons, through every storm, my gifts never cease to bare fruit.

God, You told me “ I will send you messengers and a dog” and You did. I’ve met messengers and people with messages, they’ve all been breathe taking. A character normally found on shakedown street, Mel’ taught me numerology and confirmed my dream and gave me insight into my future. A man from New England, Chris taught me about betrayal, fraud, atheism and the sorrows of those who do not know You. Timothy, in the jungle of Costa Rica taught me Hebrew, all the ancient prayers, traditions of the Jewish people, and Yeshua. Kush out of Philadelphia taught me brotherhood, sobriety, steadfastness, and integrity. Corn fed from Kansas, Nash Busey taught me that if you don’t plan to loose, you’ve lost already. If we stop and throw rocks at every barking dog, we would never get anything done. So do what you do best and delegate the rest, and remember, it get worse before it gets worse. Eddie G, taught me if you love what you do you’ll never work a day in your life. The rewards for honor surpass understanding, and friends turn into Phamily. The Panda, I’ve known since boarding school. As runaways, the boldness of brothers keeper, courage, honesty and loyalty has strengthen us together. I have confirmed the Pandas beliefs in You through my testimony as he has bared witness. There is so much to tell of greatness that has birthed from the camaraderie with Your messengers. Twenty fives years later after my initial dream upon meeting You I was in California when I received the call. I was driving a convertible 2007 M6 BMW north bound on interstate 5 outside of Redding, California. “Hello, this is John” I answered “ Hi John, you do not know me, I got your number from a friend of a friend that said you prophesied about receiving a white German Shepard from an unexpected call from someone you didn’t know. Well I wanted to let you know we have your dog here waiting for you, he was born six weeks ago.” God I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not only did You give me a dog, You gave me the fastest car to go get him! A couple weeks later on a marijuana farm, in the wilderness of California I received a call from my mother. “Hello?” I answer my cell phone. “ John, my goodness! It’s your mother! You probably forget the sound of my voice! I can’t remember the last time I talk to you it must have been six months ago. I sent you a birthday card, did you get it? Anyway I had this crazy dream Ive been meaning to share with you, I think it was like, how do you say, Godlike? Anyway I dreamt you got another white dog and named it Noble. And then I woke up and thought about all your dogs and I was like, oh I hope not. Crazy right?” My mother exclaimed, it was crazy, still kinda is. I named the dog You gave me Honor to remind me always of my commitment to You.

God when Chris and my mother died something within me died as well, as if the wind ceased from powering my sail, and the tears of my stillness filled my vessel. While my grip on the reigns of life were loose in despair the transforming swells of emotion and confusion swirled in and tossed my life into disarray once again.

God, I stand before You with Honor. Since the initial dream I’ve had many that coincide and I’ve accounted them as individual stories within the series. My mother coined the title when I was eight. When I told her that I was going to be a writer and write about the journey God sent me on. I told her my writings would be a series. The only series that existed at that time was the “Encyclopedia” hence my mothers expression, “what are you gonna call it? ‘’’The encyclopedia of chaos?” And thats exactly it. The Encyclopedia of chaos is a series of books I’ve created, memoirs to tell of Our journey. It’s a set of books, 1. Sunny days and stormy nights 2. Beloved priest entrusted 3. Cost of doing business 4. The Magi 5. Journey of Love. Along this journey many quotes and poems transpire out of my heart daily, reflecting the intimacy We share on walks with Honor. I have dialogue them patiently with sketches as a testimony, as You have asked. I have acquired those writings together, 6. a book called Foretold & Authentically Desired Moments with Honor. When I met Your first messenger Mel’ I was 16, he passed on an influence that I inter graded into Our intimacy and I believe it has strengthened Our foundation over the last 27 years. I have created a unique Magi influence that I have prepared to share and invite participation from an audience that seeks intimacy with You. 7. A Magi influence of the Melchizedek priesthood. (A daily influence)

God on Aug 3rd, I will be 43. Ive been nurtured by You and not the world I live in. Facing life without hearing the words ‘I love you, I miss you, or I’m proud of you, has been exceedingly difficult. I am not like most people, in Hindi they would call me a Magi. It’s clear to me that my priesthood is set apart.

God, in a dream when I was eight, You told me “ I give you John Biraj Biswas three gifts, testimony, discernment and writing. “ You explained to me how great these gifts were. When I told my mother, she shook her head, she felt like I got ripped off. When I told a friend that was a witness to my testimony later in life of my calling he responded, “ your life has been filled with trauma, grief, witchcraft, sorcery, gossip. Your lost, broken, alone, you need to get help, find stability, your prophetic calling has been plagued.” Corruption has engulfed like flames around me, in a mantle You cover me. Who has been given the authority to speak for You besides Jesus, the prophets , the fishers, the hunters, and those You call to write their testimony? My father was a very wise man, he explained to me, that I am a Magi. The last time Magi were called forth, there were three. This makes me wonder. How will I give my gifts to Christ? Should I use my gifts? Discernment, testimony, and writing? And explain to people like me, born of the scholars and world views? Those not of religion? Is this how You get your people out of the cracks in the valleys and out from under the rocks in dry places? I hope We can share Our stories in Spirit and in Truth with the world, I need Your help with that. Your omniscience surpasses my understanding, thank You for lifting the veil from my heart and awakening me. My heart waits for You like a brook waits to be a river.

In God we trust,

your clay creation,

John Biraj Biswas

(Beloved Priest Entrusted)

P.s 215-614-6454

Diamond Paint

1795 E. Oakton st

Des Plaines, IL 60018

Write A Review

Dear God contest entry

The First Milestone
This authors first post!
A Milestone Post

Pays one point and 2 member cents.