A calling written into the soul
At 4.30 this morning, as the bus slowly rolled out towards Calicut, a quiet journey began within my heart. The destination was Christ Hall, Calicut, to meet Fr. Abraham Pallivathuckal. The bus would take me only till Thrissur, where a few others would join. But even before reaching there, my mind had already travelled far — back in time, across four decades of memories.
It was 1984, forty-two years ago. I was a first-year B.Com student at St. Dominic’s College, Kanjirapally, when I attended a Charismatic Youth Retreat. I did not know then that those few days would mark the beginning of a lifelong journey with Jesus Youth. In December 1985 came my first travel outside the zone — Jesus Youth ’85. A new fire had been lit.
In June 1986, the first Campus Teams Gathering was held at Sacred Heart College, Thevara. Around the same time, the Second Line Formation programs began. I found myself, almost unexpectedly, among the first campus team members. A year later, in 1987, at Kanjirapally, we organized (under Tee Cee’s leadership) the first Youth Convention. We had hoped for maybe a few dozen; 150 young people turned up. It was beyond anything we had imagined — a quiet sign that God was doing something far bigger than our plans.
In 1988, the first Campus Meet was held at St. Teresa’s College, Ernakulam. My journeys to Ernakulam and many other places became more frequent. That same year, while I was still a postgraduate commerce student, I was entrusted with the responsibility of Zonal Youth Coordinator. In 1989, another burden of love was added — coordinating the JETT training program. Soon (in 1992) after, I was asked to serve as the Kerala Jesus Youth Coordinator, a role that, in those days, carried responsibilities similar to what the International Coordinator holds today (hope that Mithun and previous coordinators will forgive!!!).
Home became a place I visited rarely.
There were no mobile phones then. Even landlines were a luxury. A small pocket diary filled with phone numbers was our most precious possession. Messages travelled through postcards and word passed from one landline to another. Yet they were reliable, trusted, and eagerly awaited. At bus stands, our most faithful companions were not friends, but mosquitoes. Money was scarce, journeys were long, and comforts were few. But faith was abundant.
From Thiruvananthapuram to Kasaragod, the field was wide. Not everyone found the young coordinator spiritual enough, capable enough, or “qualified” enough. Some did not cooperate. I myself knew my limitations. Then, as now, I was not a great speaker, not a stage performer. But what I could do was visit. I could sit in homes, listen, and connect with parents and families. Those simple, personal bonds became bridges of trust and strength.
And this story is not mine alone.
For more than forty years, hundreds — perhaps thousands — of young men and women have poured out their time, energy, tears, and dreams into this movement called Jesus Youth, which now lives and breathes in over forty countries. It is built not merely on programs and structures, but on sacrifices hidden in night journeys, in empty pockets, in misunderstood hearts, and in prayers whispered on bus seats and railway platforms.
It is God’s grace, always God’s grace. And yet, grace found willing hearts. These young people cooperated with that grace, and in doing so, gave their very lives. Perhaps that is why they remain — because what is formed through blood, sweat, and surrender becomes part of one’s very being.
It becomes a calling written into the soul.
May this tribe of self-giving, self-emptying, sacrificial lovers of God continue to grow.
May their spirit multiply.
And may their silent, faithful “yes” keep echoing through generations.
Dr. Chackochan Njavallil
