AUNTY AMBROSE- a tribute

It was during my second year of medical school that I first attended VCA. I learnt of this congregation that met in Bethany school every Sunday, by a group of seniors. The first time I saw Aunty Ambrose was on one of these Sunday mornings. She was clad in a cotton sari and the way she walked around those holy precincts betrayed her age. I was introduced to her by one of my seniors Vidya. She smiled at me as if we had years of rapport and encouraged me to attend every week. That first encounter with her left me thinking. She had inextinguishable energy about her. Though her skin was wrinkled and looked frail in physical frame, she greeted members with genuine concern. It was not a superficial social gesture. But it was a love that came from a sincere faith in Christ.

Rarely did she preach during those final years. But when she did, there was encouragement and strength to the listeners. For a newcomer to Christ like me, more than her words, her presence spoke volumes. She used to masterfully guide the church into intercessory prayers and worship. Subconsciously, it was her prayer that I had begun to emulate. For birthdays she used to pray promptly. When any of the Ambrose family stepped up to testify about God’s favor in their lives, there was always a mention about Aunty. She exemplified a Christian elder and through her life she taught what great blessings a family would have when members uphold each other in prayer.

One day when it was still dark, we as a group knocked on Aunt’s door with a bouquet of flowers to wish her a happy birthday. We wanted to surprise her on the bed. But the surprise backfired. As early as 5:30 in the morning, she was up praying. She saw us and smiled heartily. She then spoke something that would change the course of my future immensely. Sipping a cup of juice, she spoke in that stern voice of hers- “do not use your profession to make money. But use it to serve the Lord.” Later on when Dr. James encouraged me to venture into missions this reminder helped a lot.  As simple as that utterance may seem, it had helped me many a time to prioritize in life and appreciate what it really meant to be a Christian doctor.

After that episode I did not get to see her for a while. I was told she left for the US. The next time I saw her she was in a wheel chair still wanting to be in the assembly of the saints. Her body had finally caught up with age. The voice began to tremble and her memory began to fade. I wished her after the service but she struggled to recognize me. She waved in agreement after I introduced myself. I told her about my final exams and she said she was praying for all of us. Days passed and we got to see her less frequently. She was mentioned in family news of the Ambroses’. I always knew she was praying for the church and I had a peurile confidence that I would clear exams because Aunty was praying. Prayer warrior she was, asking us to write down the requests. I was one who could see the fruit of her prayers in my live.

Post College I left for Orissa and no communication transpired except for occasional news from the juniors. ‘Aunty Ambrose doesn’t come often but when she does she blesses us with words and a prayer’- was their usual refrain. When Jesus walked on earth, the encounters He had with most of the people were not long and monotonous, but were radical and life changing. His talk pierced through the heart and compelled sinners to repentance. Though He was Son of God, He blessed people of simple faith. The same attributes I find in my meetings with our beloved aunty. She talked sparingly but with words adorned with rich experience and love. She became a channel of those life transforming experiences with God. Her commitment to the spiritual growth of the youth was unwavering. Whenever we met her- for retreats, church picnics, college Christmas, practical examinations- her assurance that God is good, gripped our hearts enabling us to do better in our fields.

On the day she went to be with the Lord, I was reading Philip Yancey’s The Jesus I never knew. My phone got a message that Aunty Ambrose was no more. An anxiety shrouded my heart. I thought about all the occasions I had met her, recollecting all the blessings we had received through her. There was a joy to have seen one life led out and out for the Creator with faith as her foundation and prayer as her life style. Those climactic words of Paul struck me, ‘I have fought a good fight’. But bodily absence soon began to stifle the hope that I would indeed see Aunty again. My eyes fell on these words from Yancey’s pen. My mood instantly swung from dejection to comfort. “Because of Easter, I can hope that the tears we shed the blows we receive, the emotional pain, THE HEARTACHE OVER LOST FRIENDS AND LOVED ONES, all these will become memories, like Jesus scars. Scars will not go away, but neither do they hurt any longer. We will have re-created bodies, a re-created heaven and earth. We will have a new start, an Easter start.” In those new bodies and in those new confines, we shall she Aunty Ambrose shouting with the same enthusiasm- ‘Praise the Lord!’