Will

Here a few shots from I took the Lintz family this past Sunday. They were a blast to work with, and they have the cutest son, Will. Have a great day!

Mr. and Mrs. Ewing

This past Saturday there was a new addition to the family. I couldn't be happier about it either! I had the pleasure of taking a few pictures of my brother and his bride a few days before their big day. It was so much fun. 

Hope you all are having a great day, and check back soon!

Oikos

"Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved—you and your oikos." - Acts 16:31

There is no place like home. Today I set my watch back on Central Time for the first time since May 11, which felt real nice. Arriving at McAllen Miller Airport has never felt so good. I don’t know if I have ever been so happy to be home as I am right now.

This is not the first time I have been left home like this, nor is this the shortest I have ever been away, but this is the sweetest my return has ever been. As you know, I have spent the last week visiting my sister and her husband, Steve, in New Jersey. My family flew up to meet us, and we had an incredible reunion in the middle of the Philadelphia Airport. And if this wasn’t enough, the icing on the cake came when I saw my best friend standing in the airport. My family asked him to come with them, and of course did not tell me. Definitely a great surprise.

So, to answer your question: Yes. This summer has been absolutely incredible so far. I have been to various parts of India, Nepal, New York, Philadelphia, Delaware (by accident), and New Jersey. I have seen the Himalayas, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, where the Declaration of Independence was drafted, and Times Square. I have slept on a marble floor in Delhi, in a hostel with orphans, in a 19^th century British cottage in the mountains of Shimla, on a roof of a school, and on various other floors, couches, and beds. I have ridden in rickshaws, taxis, on the back of motorcycles, buses, and subways.

Taking into account all of this, I can say that this moment right now is the best. I am home, and there is no place like it. Not even close.

This past year God has taught me the incredible blessing of a home, of my home. Home is not the structure that is currently surrounding me as I type. No, home is my community. The Greek word used over and over for this in the New Testament for this idea is oikos. While I have been traveling from place to place, I have been longing to return to my oikos.

My oikos is my home. It is my community. The place where I find loved ones, friends and family. At this point in my life I am not called to India or New York. Yes, God has used those places to reveal himself more fully to me. But the immediate call of these revelations has lead me back to my oikos in order that he may use these experiences as a blessing to those in it.

Dr. Thom Wolf, the man I worked with in India, has an interesting concept called Oikos Evangelism. One of the reasons I spent a large part of my summer with him was a result of the impact this concept made on me as I read it several months before I ever met him. He says “Oikos Evangelism is God's natural means to spread the Good News, for everyone who has ever, or will ever receive Christ. And the key that opens every oikos is life transformation through the indwelling of the living God.”

People need community. I need community. And I believe God has placed me in my own specific oikos in order to glorify him and make him known. I don’t know where my oikos will be in the future, but I know where it is now.

This knowledge is what makes this return so sweet. I am returning to my oikos.

 

 

 

New Look

Well, tonight marks my one week anniversary being back in the US. This realization brings up some business that I feel obligated to discuss with you. 

This blog was created on May 12 with the intent of providing you, the reader, with updates throughout my stay in India. Now that the trip is over, I am faced with the question of whether I should keep this up. 

I want to relate this issue to a distant part of my personal life. I am reminded of a dating relationship I was in when I was in High School. Don't get me wrong, this was a great part of my life for a certain period of time, but there was a distinct time when it was clear things were no longer progressing. In fact, things were clearly regressing. I remember a particular moment when it would have been quick, easy, and relatively painless to end it and move on. However, this was not the path that was taken. Hindsight reveals this was the wrong decision. The relationship, at the time of the possible termination, had already seen its height. In this case, prolonging the inevitable had few advantages, but was actually quite unpleasant.

We are supposed to learn from our mistakes, right? Well, applied in this situation would mean I would recognized that this blog has served its original intended purpose and now it is time to move on. Well I have decided to make a small compromise with this philosophy. 

I am "moving on" from the "old blog" by merely changing the format and the title. That's fair, right? 

I can not tell you how much I have enjoyed blogging thus far, and so I see no logical reason to stop. I realize that when I address "you" I may be talking to myself, given that all my readers have lost interest by now. 

But if you are like me and tend to hang on, then I hope you enjoy the new look of the blog and the posts to come.

Hot Shower and a Bed

These are two luxuries I will enjoy tonight for the first time in over 5 weeks. I am laying on a couch in my sister and her husband's house in Westhampton, NJ. It is 1:30 in the morning here, but my biological clock is telling me it is 11 in the morning. Solution? Sleeping pills. 

But before I do that and crash I wanted to let you know that I am safe and sound in New Jersey. My family comes in town tomorrow and we will spend the next week here visiting. I couldn't think of a better way to return!

It was sad leaving Delhi yesterday, but I was incredibly excited to return. I couldn't help but laugh out of excitement when I stepped off the plane in Newark.

And in case you were curious (which I hope you were), I plan on maintaining this blog. It has been quite fun for me. If it has been fun for you as well, please plan on continuing to hear from me. Soon.

Goodnight.

Cathy from Continental

Very rarely do you meet someone who, in less than one hour, can break your heart only to restore it and place you on top of the world.

Cathy is one of those people. She is a saint.

Long story short, I am supposed to be an hour and a half into my flight home right now, but it has been delayed until tomorrow. I found out about the delay this afternoon, but also found out about a huge error I made in making the reservation. I mean huge! But after hours of being tossed around by different Continental representatives, providence brought Cathy and I together and life became good once again. 

I ask for your prayers, that my flight would not be delayed any more. In return for your prayers, I offer you some recent pictures.

-me and Dr. Thom

-SP Singh. The 2nd coolest Indian I've met.

-Shimla, India

DDD

Again, I have the luxury of living in the future. Last time I took advantage of this I honored my mother on her birthday, and now, less than two weeks later, I will do the same for my dad on Father's Day.

Let me start by saying there is no one like him. He is the most thoughtful, loving, sensitive, hard-working, and cheesy person I know.

You will hard-pressed to find someone with the same humor as my dad. I can’t decide if that is a good thing or bad thing. I will say this, he loves laughter. Spending time with him, you will quickly find that he also loves life. His overall countenance, attitude, and even humor (cheesy as it can be at times) always encourages others to do the same.

The one thing that I think defines him is his ability to give. I can’t think of a time when my dad put his own interest before the interest of those he loves and cares for. His is truly a life marked by service. If you were to take a quick glimpse at a typical week in his life, you will see over and over again selfless devotion to others.

From this devotion comes his ministry. I am convinced that my dad is not a CPA. I don’t think people go to him because he is a great accountant. I think the real reason he has such a successful practice is because he takes on the role of a counselor and friend. I can’t tell you how many stories I have heard of my dad coming home from work excited about the amazing things God has done that day. There is something about the idea about God’s presence at an accounting firm that seems a bit counterintuitive, but knowing that someone like my dad is involved, you know that the Spirit is invited on a daily basis.

He also spends the better part of his “free time” leading others into a deeper relationship with God through BSF and our church, or preparing and studying to do so. He has left an amazing impact on the community he is a part of. This impact has a direct relationship with his love for the Lord, and his willingness to have God work through him. When I return home, people often approach me and tell me what God has done in their life through my father.

In a world that is filled with stories of negligent fathers and broken households, I am incredibly blessed to have such a devoted and loving father. He is a wonderful confidant, and I trust him more than any person I know. I have never had a moment when I thought I did not have the support of my father. If there is someone who has always been available and ready to back me in any situation or circumstance, it is my him. He knows more about me than anybody in the entire world. I am jealous of his wisdom, but also incredibly thankful for it. He is the wise counsel I seek when I am in doubt. And I can rely on his advice because it is grounded in the word of God. As a father, he realizes his role in my life. He has done everything to point me to my Heavenly Father.

In the limited amount of years I have been alive, I am incredibly fortunate and thankful to be have been under the influence of such a wonderful man of God. I know God has used the unique and incredible relationship I have with my dad to mold me into the person I am. 

3 AM, Again

It is 3 AM, but this time I am about to go to sleep.

This week has been so good. I spent the better part of my week with a group of some of the most influential leaders of modern India. As you know from my previous blog, we ended up leaving around 4 AM for Shimla, India. It was only an eight-hour ride there, and ten on the way back. I think God uses Indian travel to strengthen my prayer life. The four hours it took to get up and down the 7,000-meter peak that Shimla rests on are among my most miserable moments here in India. Let’s just say the combination of winding, crowded roads, the constant sound of horns, and never knowing when our car may come to a screeching halt did not settle well with my stomach. Oh, and the seating arrangement didn’t help. The way there I was sandwiched between two full-size men. I guess we decided that we had too much room on the way, so another man joined us on the way back. How is this possible, you ask? Well, my friend Tyler and I literally sat on luggage for the whole ten-hour trip back to Delhi.

Despite that, this week is probably going to be the most memorable part of my stay in India. I saw God move powerfully in the hearts of men and women to bring about practical change in a corrupt system. Each one present was very familiar with the pain of being subject to the current system, and is determined not to reform it, but to replace it.

Much of the meetings were profound and challenging, but the concluding prayer was the most powerful moment of the entire week. It was through this prayer that a man called to Jesus as the source of change. Through the earnestness in his voice, one could feel the Holy Spirit engage every person present. Whether Christian, Atheist, Sikh, or skeptic  each was brought to tears. As a result of this prayer directed toward the true solution, every person, having blood-shot tearful eyes, embraced one another knowing they all desired the same thing.

As if this wasn’t enough, the reason I am going to bed so late tonight is because I have spent the last few hours talking and praying with Dr. Thom. It is incredible to hear more and more of his story. It is hard to remember what exactly is said in a conversation like that, but it is hard to forget the way you feel when you know you are discussing Truth with somebody else.

 

 

 

 

3 AM

It is 3Am and I am about to leave town. I wish that was some sort of metaphor, but it is the truth. I am going to a series meetings with Dr. Thom at a university 6 hours away. The meetings will take place for the next few days. 

From what I have gathered this should be a really good time. So, aside from being up and waiting to leave, I am very excited.

More to come soon, I'm sure.

Dr. Mujib

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” – John 14:6

Today was a great day. But before I tell you about it allow me to tell you something that has been happening to me in the past week and half or so. My going to the orphanage produced a subtle change in my Indian experience.

Leading up to the orphanage I had been observing India. That week, I quit observing. I started interacting with India.

Today I had three meaningful interactions and I will tell you briefly about one.

Dr. Mujib is a Muslim scholar who loves Dr. Thom and Americans. He has been a constant presence since I have been here. Him and I have a special bond though. He received his PhD from the University of Texas, and therefore loves Texans. He loves literature and he gave me one of his favorite books a few days ago to read so that we can discuss it.

Today I ran into him and he invited me to dinner. Dr. Mujib is a smart man, but can be a little difficult to have a conversation with. He likes to hear his own voice and welcomes questions but rarely asks any of his own. It is common practice for him to interrupt someone, introducing a completely new subject. I was a little surprised by his invitation, considering I had never had time alone with him. Needles to say, I was curious how this would turn out. 

In our conversation he asked what I thought of the Taj Mahal when I visited. I asked if he wanted to see a few pictures I had taken while I was there. When he reached the end of  the pictures I had taken of the Taj, he did not stop looking at the pictures. He continued through the pictures I had taken of India thus far, and began to gain a larger scope of my experience in India. When he reached the pictures of the slums I had visited, he stopped looking, and made eye contact with me. 

He allowed a nervous laugh asking, “So what do you think about your experience in India so far? Pretty poor, huh?” I knew from his tone that he was a bit ashamed of his country and its current situation. 

I thought for a brief moment about his question, realizing that this was his way of apologizing on behalf of India. I gave him a simple answer. I responded with a small smile and replied, “Dr. Mujib, you know I am a Christian. Because of this, I believe India needs Jesus.”

I expected an answer from him. After all, I was talking to Dr. Mujib. If nothing else, I thought certainly he would change the subject. Instead with a quizzical look, he maintained eye contact and silence. This felt a bit peculiar, but I decided to proceed, expanding shortly on my thought process.

I explained that I agreed with him, India is a poor country. But I said that poverty was not the only issue concerning India. Among the many “problems” facing India, whether social, economic, political, or spiritual the answer is Jesus. I noted that India places a large emphasis on religion, that everyone is seeking many gods, but that I had found the Most High God, and my prayer was for India to do the same.

For the first time in my month long relationship with Dr. Mujib, he allowed me to communicate a complete thought with his full attention and without interruption. And when I finished this last sentence, we sat for about 15 seconds in silence before conversation began again.

I walked away from the table thanking God because he not only gave me a message, but also a recipient. I learned that when it comes to my personal life, experiences, and opinions Dr. Mujib will consider them with little weight. However, when it comes to the message of Jesus Christ he listens.

 

 

A New Website

I hope you like the picture I put up of India Gate. It is a huge memorial in the middle of Delhi to all the Indians that fell in World War II. As you can see from the picture, its pretty massive and looks great.

We live in a culture that is never satisfied. I am fully aware of this and have chosen to accommodate this needy characteristic of human nature. You see, I have decided to not only share my experiences and thoughts on India through mere words but now through a visual medium.

I have put a very small sample of pictures I have taken since I have been here on flickr.com.

Check them out: http://flickr.com/photos/zackewing 

Let me know what you think. If you like them, I may just put more up. 

Ode to my Mom

Good Morning. It is 8:17 AM here in New Delhi and I just got up about 30 minutes ago. One of the advantages of being on this side of the world is that I am living in the future, meaning it is still June 2nd in Texas, but June 3rd here.

Why is this so important that I feel the need to write about it today, you ask? Well, if you don't already know then shame on you! Today is a wonderful day. It is on this day a few years ago (very few!) my dear mother was born.

So today I pause, and I am asking you to do the same, for a few moments to honor her in the glory she deserves, because she is completely worth it. My mother is easily the most important and most influential woman in my life. I called her last night and talked to her for quite some time and for the entire conversation I was smiling and laughing with her. Even thousands of miles away, she has the ability to make life good.

For those of you who have the pleasure of knowing her, what I am saying comes as no surprise to you. She has one of the most contagious personalities and radiates with such joy and enthusiasm for life that you can't help but be drawn to mirror her wonderful disposition. She is completely full of life, and has one of the youngest hearts of anyone I know. You can't help but feel good when she is around.

She is one of the most discerning, wise, and encouraging individuals around. Anytime I am feeling low, I dial her number. Again, when I need advice she is the one I talk to. Each time something exciting happens I call her because I know she has the perfect ability to share in another person's excitement and has mastered the complex art of being happy for others.

She is a motivator and a visionary. She works hard and selflessly for the Lord. Again, for those of you that know my mother, you know that she is not satisfied unless she is doing something for the Kingdom. For at least 21 years, her life has been characterized by service to God and others. She is proactive in seeking opportunities for other women to grow closer to the Lord. Not only that, but because of the characteristics mentioned before, along with countless others, the ministries God places her in have always displayed incredible effectiveness. God's favor surely rests on her!

When I think about returning from India, I think about being reunited with my family. They are home to me. They embody what is dear to me, and when I am near them I am satisfied. This is the mark of a wonderful mother: a wonderful family.

You may have gathered by now that I love my mom. I hope you enjoyed this extremely small and insufficient tribute to her. Believe me, it does not do her justice.

Strong Farm

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake… my cup overflows. – Psalm 23

 

I will sleep well tonight. I have spent the last 6 days at Strong Farm, the orphanage I told you about in my last post. In short, this was an amazing experience.

 

That is, aside from actually getting there and coming back. Traveling in India is quite the experience. A typical bus ride to Khatima, the nearest bus stop to the orphanage, from Delhi is about 8 hours. The bus is supposed to leave around 10 PM and arrive around 6 AM. However, my ride was anything but typical. First of all, it was 15 hours long. The bus I took is called a sleeper bus, which means above all the seats are some makeshift bed-like things that are somewhat comfortable. They are close to the size of a twin bed, except contrary to popular practice the bus company prefers that two people share the one space. I decided to bite the bullet and pay for a double sleeper. I know, luxurious.

 

So the bus ride was terribly long and hot (no air conditioning). There were two fights on the bus and a man tried to convince me to share my sleeper with him. It was hard to resist, but I said no.

 

Believe it or not, the bus ride back to Delhi was even better. Although this bus ride was 7 hours shorter than the previous, it was slightly less comfortable. This time I did not have the luxury of a sleeper. But I did have a window seat, which means that I was able to soak in all the wonderful aromas and smells of the streets of India. Any preconceived notion I had of what a “bad smell” consisted of was dramatically called into question and redefined last night. I don’t know how to explain it, except that my eyes were often filled with tears (not of joy) and I had to hold my breath at points so I would not throw up. Oh, and I made a new friend. He sat next to me and used my shoulder as a pillow for about 6 hours of the trip.

 

Pretty miserable huh? Well, maybe… except that it was completely worth it to spend those days at the orphanage. The last week is sure to stand as one of the major highlights of my time here in India. It was the perfect retreat.

 

Upon my arrival, I was greeted by the boys swimming in a pool. To my knowledge, swimming pools didn’t exist in India. I have never been so glad to be wrong. I stayed in the hostel with the boys. I woke up at 6:30 for breakfast and would then work the farm with them. I actually drove a tractor while I was there, pretty ridiculous. I climbed trees with the boys to pick their favorite fruit, lichis and closed out every day playing cricket with them. Oh yeah, I went hiking through the Jungle, visited Nepal, and went on a motorcycle ride through the Himalayas.

 

This was an amazing week! The children at this orphanage were absolutely phenomenal. I was so thankful that I was able to go by myself and be completely immersed into life with them for almost a week so that I was actually able to get to know them. Truth be told, six days was not enough.

 

I am so thankful God opened this door. He is surely at work in this place. The orphanage comes from an extremely grim situation from just a few years ago, and God’s restoration is at work in this place. I look forward to sharing more with you soon, but for now I am going to bed. I have been looking forward to this all day.

I feel much better...

But now I am alone. The teams that have been here for the past three weeks have boarded their planes. Dr. Thom is still in D.C. So who is left, you ask? Linda, Thom’s wife, their live-in housekeeper Kheem, and me. When idealizing how my time in India would pass, this interlude surprisingly never came to mind. Needless to say, I was disappointed when I realized that I would have about 5 days without any of the friends I have made these past two weeks I have been here and without the mentor I traveled half-way across the world to learn from.

But God is faithful. This week has been somewhat testing and discouraging with the absence of Thom, the wrapping up of all the other team’s activities and their debreifing, and my getting sick. It was definitely a change of tempo. Moreover, with the conditions of the upcoming week being as I described above, it should prove to be much more mellow. On the contrary, I am very excited about the week to come.

I told you a few blogs ago about a 24 year old Aussie I met named Clifton Shipway. Well, let me tell you a little bit more. He was born and raised in Tasmania, but made frequent trips to Northern India to visit the orphanage his grandpa opened in the 40s. His mother became his grandfather’s partner, but when he died Clifton became his mother’s partner. So short story – long, he and his mother run an orphanage in East Delhi, along the border of Nepal with, according to him and the pictures I have seen, the Jungle and the Himalayas in his backyard.

He made a trip to Delhi about 10 days ago and stopped at our place for dinner. Him and I got to talking, and the next day a few of us went with him to the market to get a few things. We got along pretty well, and when I mentioned that I would be here with little to do for a few days, he seemed pretty excited about the idea of me checking out the orphanage.

I take a bus that leaves at between 8 and 10 PM and will arrive between 7 and 10 AM the next morning (how’s that for Indian time?). Please keep me in your prayers for safety and health. I hope to deliver a great report to you when I return!

A theme that has been recurring throughout this trip is the idea of God going before you, setting up and preparing events and circumstances before you ever arrive. I think this is a perfect example of God’s faithfulness in that respect. He is a personal God who was well aware of my disappointment regarding the situation that faced me this upcoming week. And he is a sovereign God who, I believe, ordained this opportunity before I ever conceived its possibility. It is incredible to see the infinite power and the personal sensitivity of God highlighted in a single situation. How much more incredible is it that I am privileged to call a God with such favorable attributes my Lord! He is good.

If you want to see where I will be this week check out the orphanage’s website listed below.

http://www.indianorphanage.com/

Also- Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you for your emails and comments the past couple days!! Hearing that you are praying for me to feel better and how you have called others to pray for God's work here in India has been more encouraging than you will ever know! God is so good to put people like you in my life.

Top 10

I want to be sensitive to the needs to the multitudes who check this blog daily. So while I am still recovering from being sick, I want to give you some links that will give you some insight into life here in Delhi.

One ranks New Delhi in the top 10 places to live. That is, top 10 worst places to live. 

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/2299119.stm

And the other will shed a little light on the first.

http://www.newsweek.com/id/67483/page/1

Enjoy, and you will hear from me sooner than later.

Delhi Belly

I finally got sick. I woke up this morning and was pretty miserable. I will spare you of the details, but I am beginning to feel a little better. It was bound to happen. Basically everyone here has gotten sick at one point throughout their stay, and each time I have been quick to point out my supposed immunity. So much for that. I think I just need a good night’s rest. So, this update will be short and hopefully sweet.

 

There is a group of students that have been here since I first arrived, but they are leaving on Monday so everyone went souvenir shopping today. I stayed home. Good decision.

 

Tonight I went to a birthday party of one of Thom and Linda’s friend. I have never been to a birthday party like the one tonight. It consisted of worship, prayer, and eating. Pretty cool if you ask me.

 

Last night was a great night. We had a rooftop worship service in the middle of Delhi and heard two amazing testimonies of a married missionary couple that live here. One is from America and the other was born in New Delhi. They have been married for a couple months. It was an arranged marriage, too. They both had incredible and challenging stories that I hope to share with you soon.

 

Aside from being sick, everything is great. I am hoping that I will wake up feeling a lot better so I can give you guys a something a little better than this to read.

 

Children

“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” – Matthew 18:3

Is it any surprise that Jesus Christ desires His people to become like the little ones? To them He has revealed things that the wise will never comprehend (Matthew 11:25).

One cannot escape the presence of a child. Had I had some forethought, or merely had formed this blog prior to this trip, I am positive this topic would have already been discussed. However, my estimation is that this is a topic that, provided extensive attention, would withstand exhaustion. That is because through becoming like a child, even to become born again, is a direct objective from our Savior.

So, as you may have gathered I have spent some time with children today. Your assumption is true, but if you have been following this blog at all you will know that a considerable amount of my time has been devoted to children.

Linda, Dr. Thom’s wife, is very connected to many schools, churches and families in Delhi, and through her various connections we have been able to make quite a few connections throughout my stay. My interactions with these children has lead me to the conclusion that while these are easily the poorest, least privileged group of individuals I have ever encountered, the children themselves are comparable to any other on this planet.

This is why I believe Jesus Christ draws from the little ones to illustrate the possession of His eternal promise. All people can relate to the nature of a child. A child, regardless of context (Delhi, Nairobi, College Station, or McAllen) shares in the same nature. I believe for most of you, I am not telling you anything original, just merely reinventing the wheel. But I do believe, this is a wheel worth making again, because this is a principal God’s children must continually be reminded to learn and apply to their own life.

At a school I visited last week full of orphaned girls, I saw a few aspects of deprivation. That is, the school was full of children that lacked the privilege of parents. They also lacked the comfort of their own living quarters, sharing narrow hallway-like rooms “accommodating” close to 30 girls in each room. As far as the school is concerned, it is hardly worth any praise at all. The school, built in 1927, once flourished with over 500 children and a full staff is now struggling to have over 100 girls and hardly any willing teachers. The land, once providing food and income is now barren. If one word were to properly define this school and its situation, I would choose “deprived.”

However, the tide is about to change for this school. The reason for our visit is a connection Linda had with a woman named Elka. I have mentioned her in a previous blog, and I plan on devoting some time to her story the future, for it is well deserving. She has a reputation of conquering situations such as these, providing and executing vision for in a situation where it is lacking (Proverbs 29:18)

So, I have stated my case as far as the deprivation of these girls is concerned. Yet upon our arrival, we were greeted with a 2-hour program in which they sang, danced, and prayed with us.

I would like to focus a bit on their worship. I experienced great blessing and great conviction by and through this. These girls loved to sing to the Lord. They could sing for hours, and on one occasion did, with incredible enthusiasm and energy. As I grew tired of standing and singing, I also became embarrassed at my lack of discipline and joy compared to these children. Even when permission was granted to sit while singing, after a few minutes the youngest of the girls stood up and began dancing in her own language as she continued to praise. There was no air-conditioning, so sleeping on the roof was by far best option for us that night. The only drawback: being woken up at 6 AM by these girls beginning their morning worship session. Incredible.

I must admit, it was in the praying that I was most moved. In these situations I tend to pray with my eyes open. I looked across the room and saw a room full of Indian girls, most no older than 8, with their hands clasped and eyes closed, learning what it looks like to seek God through prayer. Every time we met together, prayer was the first and last thing that occurred, and often prayer was placed within activities as well. And each time the same scene occurred, a complete stillness before the Lord. Again, it is the memory of the youngest of these children that causes my eyes to tear as I type these words. I saw her clasped hands rest gently on the brim of her mouth, and her eyes were gently closed. I have seen many nice things, but this was truly an object of beauty. 

You may be skeptical, proposing that these children are merely objects of strict training and discipline. If that is the case, praise the Lord! If only every child were trained in such things, learning from an early age how to pray and being exposed to the most intimate means God has given his children to seek him by.

Today, I was surrounded by children again. This time, the context was the slums of Delhi. When I look back at the first instance my heart was truly broken here, I will remember a scene I saw today. Although it involves a child, it is not overtly pertinent to the topic of this blog. So I will expand later, as it deals with the circumstance and issue of poverty in India, an issue I wish to discuss in more detail in the future. But what I want to focus on briefly are three lessons I learned today from these children: desire, teachability, and necessity.

There were a several boys who vied for my attention. At one point, they were actually wrestling in order to sit closest to me. Flattering, I know. What is more, we tried to leave the school a couple of times before we were successful because the children begged us to stay. Noticing this desire for our presence and proximity, is it any wonder that Jesus would insist that his followers become like little children?

The children kept asking for us to teach them. Anything. Songs, stories, dances, skits, our testimonies: they named it, and we taught it. And when we instructed, they listened. Where we told stories and our personal testimonies they listened intently, absorbing. I might add that these children’s English was limited, so there was an interpreter present to insure their understanding. Where we sang and danced, they imitated until they were able to do them on their own. Again, what an incredible eagerness and excitement that should be mirrored in a relationship with Christ!

Finally, I saw the necessity of a child today. As one child rushed over to me to grab my hand in order that I could help him with the craft he was making, I was reminded of my own inability. He could not tie a knot. And it is with the simplest facets of life that I am reminded of the dire necessity for Christ.  These children not only needed, but starved for love and attention. Apart from emotional and spiritual need, these children felt necessity in the most basic of ways: food, clothing, and shelter. Need was abundant today, and I will continue to notice its abundance throughout my stay here in India. There is no shortage of need and dependence when it comes to children, and neither is there with God’s children.

History on a Page

Tonight we had another lecture session with Dr. Thom. In short, it was one of the most profound learning experiences of my entire existence.

 

After that, everyone started to go about their business and eventually headed to bed. Instead of following suit, another student here named Aaron and I continued the lecture in the form of conversation with Dr. Thom. It is now 1:30 in the morning, and I am high from the adrenaline rush that stemmed from the dialogue. On top of that, about half an hour was spent outside on his balcony watching perhaps the most incredible series of lightning bolts I have seen.

 

As Dr. Thom would say, Jesus is The Man.

Church

Then you will call upon me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart. – Jeremiah 29:12-13

 

I have been debating what I want to write about today. I have been out of town for 2 days visiting a school about four hours away. This was quite an experience, through which I learned quite a bit. When I got back in town I met a 24-year-old man name Clifton who is co-directing, with his mother, an orphanage on the border between Nepal and India in the Himalayas that his grandfather opened sometime in the 1940’s. He came in town to get a few things for his orphanage and wanted some company so I went out with him.

 

But what I want to talk about is the universatility of human experience. That is, the power of a personal testimony in any given venue or context and the situation through which many of these situations occur, at least in my own personal experience.

 

Today is Sunday, and I was able to go to a Christian church this morning. The characteristics that define Christian worship in India are an extremely peculiar and fascinating thing. Something I could write another blog entry on, and may in the future. In all, the service lasted close to 2 and a half hours. And when the majority of the service is in a foreign tongue (although the sermon was translated), the ability to keep focus, much less interest, quickly fades. Above that, the service was held in a small underground room with no air conditioning so that there was no circulation of fresh air. However, this may have been an advantage considering access to fresh air meant access to 100-degree weather. So, which of these was lesser evil is another debate for another blog entry. I realize, I may be sounding long-winded at this point, but the reason for the details is to highlight, and hopefully move you to sympathize, my desire to return to my Delhi home furnished with couches, air conditioning, and plenty of English. 

 

So when I heard there was a fellowship following the service, it would be an understatement to say I was disappointed. Isn’t it interesting that these are the moments through which God so often chooses to use his people? At least this is my experience. When I am tired, hot and sweaty, hungry, and inwardly upset the pastor of the church for his extreme hospitality God chooses to bring opportunities for ministry and His glory.

 

One of the leaders of a team here named Joe sat next to me, and next to him an Indian woman named Amarjit. Joe is fluent in Hindi, and immediately started speaking to this woman. It turns out though, that this woman was fluent in English and insisted in speaking in our native language. With that, I was engaged in the conversation, at this point unwillingly. She had told us about how she had come to know Christ, the nature of being a Christian in a Hindu society,  and the effects it has had on their life, along her struggle with cancer. She was well acquainted with persecution and hardship. As the conversation was coming to an end, or so we thought, we told her we would be praying for her. Her reply, “No, no my family here does not need prayer. We all are Christians. My daughter Rajita, who is living in Dallas, she is not a Christian and she too has cancer.” She told us some details of her daughter’s situation and of her struggle, in which Joe replied empathizing with her because he has a brother who does not know Jesus. These two talked for quite some time exchanging details of each one of their stories and hopes. While this was occurring, I kept thinking to myself that I had a similar story of my own, but mine had a distinct difference: my story was complete, and it had ended with an answered and fulfilled hope.

 

This is the story of my grandfather, who passed away less than a month ago. Upon hearing of his cancer, about two months before his death, I was deeply moved. Moved by the power and inconsideration of death on all men, yes. But mostly on the undeniable sorrow when this is coupled with a man who had not internalized the unspeakable power and victory of faith in the grace of Jesus Christ. I told them that when I heard of Grandpa Jimmy’s cancer and my complete lack of assurance of his fate upon his eventual death, I was broken and at a loss of what my role, if any, in this situation should be. I decided to do the only thing I could do, go to God. I decided to fast and pray every Tuesday for his salvation. This was something done in secret, kept personal between God and me. I had never done anything like this before either, so I did not know what to expect.

 

I called my parents on Tuesday, April 15^th and was told that my grandpa had accepted Jesus Christ. This was the last Tuesday my grandpa was alive. When I got off the phone, my eyes were filled with tears, and my heart was moved in a profound way. God is incredibly faithful when His people pray. God inclined and heard my cry, answering with faithfulness and graciousness I will never grasp, nor could I ever express proper gratitude for. What a limited sacrifice for such an incredible and immediate answer!

 

When I was done telling this to the woman and Joe, I looked into the woman’s pained eyes and she expressed her deep gratitude for my story. I could see that she was close to brokenness at this point, as she praised God for the outcome of my story. She asked if I would pray for Rajita, her daughter. I affirmed her request, but went further, asking if we could start at that very moment. So in the middle of this fellowship, Joe, Amarjit and I bowed our heads and closed our eyes seeking God’s faithfulness in yet another hopeless situation. I could hear the woman’s earnestness and pain in the way she quietly affirmed the prayer. As I said amen, I looked up into the same eyes as earlier, filled with brokenness, yet containing thankfulness. Joe was not as strong, he put his arm around me and with tears in his eyes exhorted, telling me that I must tell this story as often as possible. That it is a story people need to hear.

 

So forgive me for taking up so much space, but I agree with Joe. 

Making Friends is Easy

Today, 60 children under the age of 10 came to the house I am staying at and we took them to a park in Delhi.I kept thinking how ridiculous it was that all these children were in one living room. I laughed thinking about this occurring in my own home – Sylvia would flip!!

(Before I go on let me say this: Being American in a foreign country is extremely advantageous. Indians are drawn to Americans. I just know how to take advantage of their interest.)

The park was full of Kodak moments. Lots of holding hands with children, pushing them on swings, see-sawing with them, etc. While this was great, the greatest part of my day occurred when one of the children’s older brother (18 years old) called me over to him. We started to talking and after a while he started opening up to me the problems of his country and of his life. He also revealed that he was Hindu. He wanted nothing more than to escape the world he was currently living in. He shared that he fantasized about life in Australia or London. Shortly thereafter, his friends joined us and the 5 of us hung out talking for the next 3 hours. They begged to buy me a bracelet with my name on it so that I would never forget them. I never will.

On a different note, our taxi cab driver was hit by motorcycle today. He was crossing the street, on his cell phone, not paying attention to the traffic, and suddenly I heard a horn and looked up to see the motorcycle hit the man and his body immediately thrown upwards and upside-down. Welcome to India.

Learning

The reason I have travelled to India is not for India. 

I have come here to study under and learn from Dr. Thom Wolf. He just happens to be in India. Yesterday, I had a three hour session with Him studying 5 verses of scripture. Incredible. This is why I am here. This is why I am excited to be here.

First Taste of Hinduism (among many other things)

5/13

And when you pray, do not keep babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words Matthew 6:7

Good news: I have much to report

Bad news: I do not have much energy to actually report.

 

My first full day in India was full. Much happened. The most striking part of the day was my visit to the Hanuman, the oldest Hindu temple in New Delhi. This visit stands, and is likely to remain, among the most bizarre experiences of my life. I have seen nothing like this before today.

            In the American Judeo-Christian mindset there is little tangibility to the idea of idol worship. That is, when we speak of this sin, it largely in respect to values like status, success, popularity, etc. There is also an association of idol worship to the material objects that represent these values (ie: money, cars, relationships). But today I saw thousands following a true pagan religion bowing, prostrating, sacrificing to, and kissing actual man-made gods.

            Thousands of people crowded this one temple, each vying for their opportunity to worship the various gods in the area. As they approached, they muttered the same prayers, one after the other. Getting closer, these devoted followers kissed the steps and walls leading to the gods before finally prostrating themselves before the god. After this, they approached the god’s resting place and presented their food offering to the gods. This is the manifestation of what Paul describes in as "food sacrificed to idols" (1 Corinthians 8). Upon this they rang countless gongs hanging from the ceiling, creating a competitive harmony to the noisy mutterings of the worshippers. What a sight: to see such devotion, yet such emptiness.

            My response? Disturbance, sadness, and conviction. This was easily one of the darkest situations I had ever encountered. To not only witness, but to be immersed in such worship is hard on the soul. To look into the “eyes” of these gods, felt as if I was truly staring the Enemy in the face. This temple did not feel empty, void of a supernatural presence. I felt a tremendous presence within those walls. However, it shared no qualities with the presence of the God that I worship.

            Why conviction? Hinduism, along with the overall culture and dynamic of India, is full of confusion, hopelessness, and subjection. Ultimately, however, the follower is just that: a follower. I did not understand the gravity of this particular concept until this experience. Observing the devotion of these people, however misplaced, was like looking at myself in a mirror, noticing the devotion lacking in my own relationship with Jesus Christ, the ultimate source of clarity, hope, and love. 

            I have come to the conclusion that every man is born with not only the innate desire, but need to worship. What I saw today for thirty minutes occurs every day, all day. What I saw today was ritualistic, and the lack of sincerity was obvious, as the thousands hurried in and out of the temple in order to quickly get on with their life. Nonetheless, every day every person feels the need to worship. The hope lies in the question: What would follow if they accepted Truth?

This is a short list of more I have to talk about. Please ask me in the future about these, I would love to tell the stories, just not tonight.

- encountering a leper

-Sikhism, its contrast to its neighbors, and close proximity with Truth

-India Gate

Indians are the Best Drivers

5/12

            I lied to my parents tonight. After a 14-hour flight from Newark to New Delhi I called them and one of the first questions they asked was “Is someone there to get you?” Naturally I replied in the affirmative. In actuality, there had been a miscommunication with my hosts, leaving me to fend for myself at the airport. So there I was alone, much less a foreigner, standing in front of the Delhi Airport flagging down a taxi to take me to my destination. Immediately I was bombarded by five or six taxi drivers. One issue: they only knew enough English to ask “Taxi?” And I only had a piece of paper with an address on it. I could only hope for the best.

            One hour later, I arrived at my destination. Driving in India proved to be one of the most interesting experiences of my life. The stripes painted on the asphalt served no purpose except decoration. The street signs and lights were mere suggestions. The majority of the ride I could have touched the cars on either side of me. Let me briefly explain why I believe that Indians are the best drivers in the world. Although there was one incident where we slightly bumped into and scraped a car next to us; my driver, along with every other driver, had complete control over his own vehicle. It was very much like a roller coaster: all thrill but I knew (or hoped) my destination was in view.

 

This was my first hour in India.