A Truly Black Friday
I grew up in Torremolinos, a tourist town on Spain’s southern coast, as part of the small Hindu community there. My father was one of the first Indians to settle in Spain and start a business, so just about everyone in the Indian community knows who I am.
The very same streets where I once partied became the places where God trained me for evangelism after I gave my life to Christ. Those same Hindus witnessed the radical transformation in my life once I began walking in my calling as a disciple of Jesus.
My wife, Sunanda, and I lived in La LĂnea de la ConcepciĂłn (near Gibraltar) for about five years, pastoring a church in Gibraltar. During that time, we also pastored a church in Torremolinos for roughly a year. But the lack of consistent tithing and offerings from the members took a heavy toll on our basic needs. We faced an eviction notice, the loss of my inheritance, backstabbing from some who were once close to us, and deep feelings of rejection from many others. All of this culminated in my first heart attack at the age of 46.
Then came Black Friday 2019. At 9:00 a.m., six policemen arrived with a van, along with a judge and her secretary. They gave us just 15 minutes to vacate our home. We frantically packed what we could, knowing we were about to become homeless with no place to sleep that night. We had no money for a hotel. I asked myself what was truly essential if we ended up sleeping under a bridge: one set of dress clothes for Sunday service, everyday basics like sweatpants, jeans, t-shirts, socks, underwear, and one good winter jacket. I kept thanking God that the rain had stopped that day—it was still winter.
We were even warned that our dogs would be taken to the local pound if we couldn’t care for them. That day, I lost about 95% of everything I owned: all my memories, books, sermon notes from the past decade, and nearly every material possession I had accumulated in life. By God’s grace, I managed to save only a few clothes, my two vintage guitars (each with me for 25 years), my laptop, and my Bibles.
We also lost all our official documents—residence papers, birth certificates, and more—but thankfully, the landlord later allowed us to retrieve them along with some additional clothing.
On the day we were evicted, God permitted no one to come to our aid. No church members, none of my extended prosperous family in Spain—no one. I felt utterly alone in the world. I sat in shock, having only heard stories like this happening to others. But me? A pastor? Someone who had deliberately turned down lucrative business opportunities to serve the Kingdom of God and depend entirely on His mercy and the generosity of others for our basic needs?
My wife and I sat outside a mall in tears, with our dogs (who were blissfully unaware of the crisis) and our car loaded with the few possessions we had salvaged. We weren’t as worried about ourselves as we were heartbroken that our dogs hadn’t eaten or had water all morning, and we had almost nothing to spare for food—for any of us.
In that moment, God prompted me to call a brother from another church to finish some calendar work we were doing for our Gibraltar ministry. I had no heart for it and was about to cancel, but I obeyed the Holy Spirit’s voice. Looking back, I see that this rejection was part of God’s plan to show us that man is nothing and that He alone is our Provider.
Through that brother, a local pastor offered us an empty apartment he had listed for rent—no questions asked. When we met him for the first time, his immediate act of mercy was to invite us to eat, and his children even shared their portions of food to feed our dogs. As soon as we moved in, the apartment rented out at full asking price (above market rate), so we were able to stay there for about three weeks. That pastor was holding meetings in his home at the time; today he has built two churches, and his construction company is thriving.
On my first Sunday preaching after the eviction, the Lord led me to ask the congregation at the end of the service if anyone had a place where we could stay temporarily—until we found something affordable that would accept our dogs. The verse came to mind: “You do not have because you do not ask” (James 4:2). An African woman visiting our Torremolinos church for the first time—from France—offered her house in a small town about 45 minutes away. She let us stay there for the whole month of December and into January while she traveled abroad.
After moving between a couple of towns and homes with our dogs for about six weeks, God finally opened the door to a small studio apartment on the coast in Vélez-Málaga—just five steps from the beach.
An alumnus from my high school, Black Forest Academy in Germany (someone I honestly don’t even remember), saw my Facebook post and sent an offering that covered the initial deposit and the required three months’ rent in advance—since we had no proof of income. A Hindu well-wisher also gave generously when we decided to leave Gibraltar (La LĂnea) for good, as well as offerings from other pastors who learned of our situation, all added up to finding our next destination where to settle down.
We’ve been in this area ever since, serving full-time in God’s work. We stepped away from the physical churches we pastored, and during the pandemic, as led by the Holy Spirit, we launched our own online ministry in 2020: Karma 2 Christ Ministries.
What’s striking is that the rent difference between our evicted home and this new place was only 50€. For well over the first year, we were even able to pay three months in advance as required. We know God permitted the eviction to demonstrate His power of supernatural provision, to show how He cares for us, and to propel us into the promised online ministry we now carry.
Yes, the emotional scars remain—the shame, the hurtful words spoken against us by some we served and prayed for—but through it all, we tasted a small measure of what Christ endured from His own people.
Many struggle with the idea that we live completely by faith, turning down prosperous business and work opportunities, yet God continues to supply our needs. We can’t afford expensive restaurants, extravagant vacations, or a secure financial future, but the Kingdom of God is far more than food and drink.
We have no formal training in fundraising or financial planning for ministry. All we heard was, “Go, and I will walk before you.” So we went.
I could go on sharing more of God’s wonders. My hope in telling this story is to encourage you—not to point fingers at anyone for our hardships. God is the One who sovereignly places people in our lives, and He works all things together for good for those who love Him and obey His commands.
This is His Promise:
(Romans 8:28) “And we know that to them that love God all things work together for good, even to them that are called according to his purpose.”