Monday, May 31, 2010
TWO WEEKS. (From my journal on Thursday, May 27)
From my journal on Thursday, May 27
“Today marks 2 weeks that I have been in India. It seems like I’ve been here much longer. Maybe it is the heat of Goa- there is a heaviness and an intensity that pulls down on every limb of my body. Each drop of sweat that runs down my face and chest and back carries not only the physical weight draining from my body, but effort to understand oozing from my mind, and concern—frustration—a desire to help but not knowing how-seeping from my heart. My spirit is like a confused child, trapped inside a world that is so much more twisted, complicated, evil, hopeless, and fan-less than I ever thought. Even so, my spirit is excited by the simplest things—smiles. Smiles of slum children gathering around me to see their picture on my camera, smiles from women and children in passing on the road, smiles from the girls during the sewing classes—my spirit leaps at the smallest glimpse of hope that flutters in the dark faces around me, clutching onto any sign of joy or happiness in the eyes of women and children.
Though my heart is concerned for the men of this community, it is hardened… I have no sympathy for them, but I have a desire for them to be changed, to have the scales fall from their eyes and for them to see women as precious creations of value and worth, as equals, as needing protection but also needing to be heard.
While my heart longs to cradle and hold each little girl that walks by me in the slum, shielding her from mistreatment and wrapping her in the love of Christ, I also desire to take each little boy by the hand and teach them to respect and honor the women around them…I long for the little boy to see the little girl next to him as a partner, a teammate, a capable and beautiful jewel to be valued.
Two of the afternoons in Vasco, Steph, David, and I visited preschools in the area. After talking to the teachers, not only were we able to learn of the schools’ needs, but education carried an entirely new importance in my mind… not did the preschools prepare the 3, 4, and 5 year olds academically for entering primary school, giving them a better chance to succeed in higher education, but from just a few years of age, the children were taught virtues and values of discipline, diligence, respect, and teamwork. My hope is that as these little boys and little girls are educated together, studying side by side, that they would regard each other as equals---that when the little boys grow up, they wouldn’t beat or burn their wives, or force them to provide irrational amounts of money for the family, they wouldn’t sell their daughters to pimps for extra cash, they wouldn’t spend all the money they make on alcohol or on visits to brothels. Instead, they would honor their wives, protect and educate their children, and value the women around them… If the demand for prostitutes declines, so will the supply.
My fervent prayer is for this younger generation to be filled with a heartfelt conviction for justice, and that they would revolutionize the role of the Indian woman in society, seeing her for the beautiful and precious creation that she is.”
“Today marks 2 weeks that I have been in India. It seems like I’ve been here much longer. Maybe it is the heat of Goa- there is a heaviness and an intensity that pulls down on every limb of my body. Each drop of sweat that runs down my face and chest and back carries not only the physical weight draining from my body, but effort to understand oozing from my mind, and concern—frustration—a desire to help but not knowing how-seeping from my heart. My spirit is like a confused child, trapped inside a world that is so much more twisted, complicated, evil, hopeless, and fan-less than I ever thought. Even so, my spirit is excited by the simplest things—smiles. Smiles of slum children gathering around me to see their picture on my camera, smiles from women and children in passing on the road, smiles from the girls during the sewing classes—my spirit leaps at the smallest glimpse of hope that flutters in the dark faces around me, clutching onto any sign of joy or happiness in the eyes of women and children.
Though my heart is concerned for the men of this community, it is hardened… I have no sympathy for them, but I have a desire for them to be changed, to have the scales fall from their eyes and for them to see women as precious creations of value and worth, as equals, as needing protection but also needing to be heard.
While my heart longs to cradle and hold each little girl that walks by me in the slum, shielding her from mistreatment and wrapping her in the love of Christ, I also desire to take each little boy by the hand and teach them to respect and honor the women around them…I long for the little boy to see the little girl next to him as a partner, a teammate, a capable and beautiful jewel to be valued.
Two of the afternoons in Vasco, Steph, David, and I visited preschools in the area. After talking to the teachers, not only were we able to learn of the schools’ needs, but education carried an entirely new importance in my mind… not did the preschools prepare the 3, 4, and 5 year olds academically for entering primary school, giving them a better chance to succeed in higher education, but from just a few years of age, the children were taught virtues and values of discipline, diligence, respect, and teamwork. My hope is that as these little boys and little girls are educated together, studying side by side, that they would regard each other as equals---that when the little boys grow up, they wouldn’t beat or burn their wives, or force them to provide irrational amounts of money for the family, they wouldn’t sell their daughters to pimps for extra cash, they wouldn’t spend all the money they make on alcohol or on visits to brothels. Instead, they would honor their wives, protect and educate their children, and value the women around them… If the demand for prostitutes declines, so will the supply.
My fervent prayer is for this younger generation to be filled with a heartfelt conviction for justice, and that they would revolutionize the role of the Indian woman in society, seeing her for the beautiful and precious creation that she is.”
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Back from Goa: Part 1.
Goa: I could probably talk for 12 hours and more about this area in southwestern India, though it is the smallest state in the country. Located on the coast, Goa is tropical paradise with palm trees that tower over white sand beaches, flowers exploding from bushes and branches and weaved into necklaces, cashew stores dotting market streets (one of Goa's main products), and fishing boats lining the ocean's edges. However, the state also has the highest percentage of sex-trafficking in India, and Goa's Red light district was anchored in a slum area called Baina until the government tore down several brothels in 2005, scattering over 2000 prostitutes across the area... and it just so happens that the view from the Rahab's Rope apartment building where I lived for the past week---was Baina slum.
I woke up the first morning at 7 AM to the "Call to Prayer" that bellowed--more like blasted from the mosque that stood 50 feet from my window, wiped the sweat from my forehead and reached for my water bottle, wondering why the sweltering heat refused to subside and how it was even possible for the temperature to be in the 90s already. Turning on my side, I worthlessly tried to give the wet cotton shirt that clung to my back a chance to dry out, but for 6 days straight I woke up feeling like I had just hopped out of the pool and was laying on a damp towel. I usually laid in bed and listened to packs of dogs that roamed the slum outside barking to each other, roosters proclaiming the sun had risen, the pitiful fan that hummed as it struggled to propel through the thick air above my head, and the little voice inside my mind that begged for an escape from the heat and threatened to shoot the animals outside if they didn't shut up in the next 30 seconds. After the third morning, the chorus of yips and yaps and cock-a-doodle-doos and man's voice that chanted arabic from the speakers on the mosque did not frustrate me, but instead reminded me of the lives outside my window and provided a backdrop for my mind to think and pray for other people who were waking up to the same sounds... but waking up to such a different world. Though I was sweating on a foam mattress in an apartment, the precious girls I was with during the day before were waking up on the concrete floor without a water bottle by their bed, without a clean pair of clothes to put on, without knowing what/ if they were going to eat that day, without protection from men or gangs in the slum, without a basic education, without opportunity for change, without hope....
and as I thought about the waves that crashed onto the beaches littered with plastic bags and bottles and pools of sewage oustside, I prayed that the humility and compassion of Christ would crash onto me, washing me clean of my own desires and selfishness, breaking down any pride in me, tearing apart any self-centered thoughts, and create in me a new fountain that spews love and hope and joy despite my circumstances, overflowing with grace and concern for those around me....that some how, some way, each day I spent with these sweet people, that I may offer comfort for their hurting hearts and share with them a gift of Hope and Healing...
more on Goa tomorrow :)
I woke up the first morning at 7 AM to the "Call to Prayer" that bellowed--more like blasted from the mosque that stood 50 feet from my window, wiped the sweat from my forehead and reached for my water bottle, wondering why the sweltering heat refused to subside and how it was even possible for the temperature to be in the 90s already. Turning on my side, I worthlessly tried to give the wet cotton shirt that clung to my back a chance to dry out, but for 6 days straight I woke up feeling like I had just hopped out of the pool and was laying on a damp towel. I usually laid in bed and listened to packs of dogs that roamed the slum outside barking to each other, roosters proclaiming the sun had risen, the pitiful fan that hummed as it struggled to propel through the thick air above my head, and the little voice inside my mind that begged for an escape from the heat and threatened to shoot the animals outside if they didn't shut up in the next 30 seconds. After the third morning, the chorus of yips and yaps and cock-a-doodle-doos and man's voice that chanted arabic from the speakers on the mosque did not frustrate me, but instead reminded me of the lives outside my window and provided a backdrop for my mind to think and pray for other people who were waking up to the same sounds... but waking up to such a different world. Though I was sweating on a foam mattress in an apartment, the precious girls I was with during the day before were waking up on the concrete floor without a water bottle by their bed, without a clean pair of clothes to put on, without knowing what/ if they were going to eat that day, without protection from men or gangs in the slum, without a basic education, without opportunity for change, without hope....
and as I thought about the waves that crashed onto the beaches littered with plastic bags and bottles and pools of sewage oustside, I prayed that the humility and compassion of Christ would crash onto me, washing me clean of my own desires and selfishness, breaking down any pride in me, tearing apart any self-centered thoughts, and create in me a new fountain that spews love and hope and joy despite my circumstances, overflowing with grace and concern for those around me....that some how, some way, each day I spent with these sweet people, that I may offer comfort for their hurting hearts and share with them a gift of Hope and Healing...
more on Goa tomorrow :)
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Goa Bound.
Today, Steph and I are flying to Goa, and we will not have internet access until Thursday or so. We are going to see the status of the existing sewing program in the area, and see if Rahab's Rope can start up another program or two, baking as a possibility. David has also asked me to write up a possible structure for a scholarship fund to send girls from the slum to school, so I will be writing up various girls' stories and creating cases for possible education scholarships. I will write more when I can, and until then, I am trying to meditate on the truth behind this quote by Amy Carmichael: "After all, cruelty and wrong are not the greatest forces in the world. There is nothing eternal in them. Only love is eternal."
The weed patch.
The past few days have been a whirlwind... David went ahead to Goa, and Steph went to visit a friend, so I spent the night with Mackey and Nellie. It was so much fun--we watched Ghandi and The Proposal, went to lunch together, ate cookies, talked about our faiths, and they told me story after story from their past 67/ 69 years of life that had us rolling around we we were laughing so hard. I have so much respect for both of them, and it has been such a blessing to listen to all their experiences and the wisdom they have gained through the years.
After lunch yesterday, Mackey and I went to buy vegetables from one of her favorite vegetable ladies to take to some women who Mackey told me "live in the weeds." I wasnt sure what that meant, so i just went alongside her, toting bags of tomatoes and potatoes down a street with overgrown plant life on either side. After we had walked about 10 minutes, I saw three blue tarps, not longer than 15 feet in length, staked down in tents in the middle of the weed patch. A group of about 10 women and children were sitting outside, and rose to their feet when Mackey and I walked up to the edge of the weeds with our grocercy bags. Most of them grinned as Mackey handed out candy from her purse...I smiled, but my heart was breaking inside. These were the poorest of the poor--their starving bodies were draped in rags, most likely the only clothes they owned...a few of the children had no underwear, and the stench suggested they had not bathed in days...their hair matted and filled with dirt, they gathered around and giggled with awe at all the vegetables in our hands. I played with the little girls for 15 minutes or so, just having them sit in my lap as I patted their heads and rubbed their backs, smiling just because that was the only form of communication we shared... I could feel my eyes hot with tears and my throat swollen as I struggled to keep from crying, and Mackey said it was time to head out. I let go of their precious little hands and dusted off my dress, smiling and waving as we walked away. It took all of my will power to keep from scooping one of them up and running away with her... her soft brown eyes staring up into mine from underneath the blue tarp she called "home." I had to turn and look away as we walked up the street, feeling helpless in not being able to help them more, and I think Mackey noticed my heavy heart. She wisely told me in a soothing voice, "It is best not to react out of emotion. Emotional responses do not last--they are powerful for a while, but soon they fade away. One should only act from their spirit, because a broken spirit will last." I thought about what she said, and I began to pray that God would not only continue to make my heart sensitive to suffering, but make my spirit wise with how to respond to pain and injustice.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Biscuits anyone? (cookies)
According to a few websites, India's biscuit (cookie) industry is arguably the second largest/ successful in the world, right behind the U.S., so...why not try and bake biscuits? Today, Gowramma, Lakshmi, and I made four kinds of biscuits: butter cookies, sugar cookies, peanut butter cookies, and ghee cookies. I made the peanut butter from scratch, blending peanuts and then adding oil, sugar and salt to taste, and I guess we got lucky because they actually turned out pretty darn yummy. Ghee is pure milkfat. Appetizing, right? It is commonly used in Indian dishes such as chicken biryani or fried rice, and apparently in biscuits as well. The ghee biscuits sorta taste like shortbread... delicious actually, especially with some powdered sugar (that I also had to make by blending granulated sugar) sprinkled on top. After having several people test our biscuits, we decided the butter cookie and ghee cookie were the best, so we are going to perfect those two recipes and maybe try some coconut cookies tomorrow...??? (There are a bunch of coconuts here.... so why not haha?)
Oh--and we also have a little mouse friend in our apartment who strangely resembles Gus-Gus from Cinderella. Tonight, I flipped on the kitchen light and saw a stringy tail slide over the top of our refridgerator, and I MIGHT have screamed a little...okay I definitely screeched, but I was relieved to peek under the fridge and see that it was just a mouse and not a snake or rat or some other scary Indian creature. Steph proceeded to line up three mouse traps and peanut butter on the kitchen floor. I'll be sure to post when we catch Gus-Gus.
While journaling today, I was struck by the words of Psalms: "O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you my soul thirsts for you and my body longs for you in a dry and weary land where there is no water." -Psalm 63: 1
"As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God." -Psalm 42:1
"You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living." -Psalm 119:57
How often do I hunger God? Hunger is "a feeling of pain, emptiness, or weakness induced by lack of food; an appetite, desire, need, or craving." How much weakness or emptiness do I feel for the Lord? How much do I desire Him--to serve and love Him, to know Him? How earnestly am I seeking His wisdom, His guidance, His will for my life? When I pray the Lord's Prayer:"Give me today, my daily bread," am I praying for just physical provisions or spiritual sustenance as well? Do I thirst for Him...is my spirit parched without Him? How can I thirst and hunger for Him more?
Oh--and we also have a little mouse friend in our apartment who strangely resembles Gus-Gus from Cinderella. Tonight, I flipped on the kitchen light and saw a stringy tail slide over the top of our refridgerator, and I MIGHT have screamed a little...okay I definitely screeched, but I was relieved to peek under the fridge and see that it was just a mouse and not a snake or rat or some other scary Indian creature. Steph proceeded to line up three mouse traps and peanut butter on the kitchen floor. I'll be sure to post when we catch Gus-Gus.
While journaling today, I was struck by the words of Psalms: "O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you my soul thirsts for you and my body longs for you in a dry and weary land where there is no water." -Psalm 63: 1
"As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God." -Psalm 42:1
"You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living." -Psalm 119:57
How often do I hunger God? Hunger is "a feeling of pain, emptiness, or weakness induced by lack of food; an appetite, desire, need, or craving." How much weakness or emptiness do I feel for the Lord? How much do I desire Him--to serve and love Him, to know Him? How earnestly am I seeking His wisdom, His guidance, His will for my life? When I pray the Lord's Prayer:"Give me today, my daily bread," am I praying for just physical provisions or spiritual sustenance as well? Do I thirst for Him...is my spirit parched without Him? How can I thirst and hunger for Him more?
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Dinnnnerrrrr Time.
"Lemon pepper okra battered with a hint of cornmeal powder and browned onions, pasta spirals with squash sauteed in a butter garlic sauce, and finally freshly sliced tomatoes and crisp carrots. Bon apetit."
Bread of Hope.
"Courage, it would seem, is nothing less than the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good; that everything is meaningful even if in a sense beyond our understanding; and that there is always tomorrow." -Dorothy Thompson
Patience is: "passion tamed; the art of hoping." -Lymon Abbott; Vauvenargues
Discouragement has been a battle for me the past few days, and so tonight Steph encouraged me to celebrate the little victories that God has given us.
Victory #1: Yesterday, Gowramma and I baked 44 banana bread muffins in my apartment. Earlier in the afternoon, our neighbor's house maid, Sangitti, knocked on the door and pointed inside, so I said "sure" as she wattled past me and into the kitchen. The three of us made "chippatis", Indian tortillas, and eggs while we waited for the muffins to bake, exchanging stories and laughs through Kannada and English....but mostly, they were the ones just laughing at me haha.
Victory #2: The oven came to Anatoly's apartment last night, so we were able to start using it today. It is super shiny and functions great, and Anatoly was glowing this afternoon as she boiled milk for chai over her temporary stove top. (We will be moving it to a storefront/ training facility hopefully sometime in the next few days. But then again, this IS India, so maybe more like sometime in the next few weeks. Until then, I will be teaching baking classes at her home.)
Victory #3: Steph and I found some fresh veggies in the market and went a teensy bit overboard...we have enough tomatoes, onions, okra, carrots, peas, and squash to last us at least till the end of the week, and that is after we had veggies for dinner for the past two nights. We've made sautees and soups and pastas, whatever sounds good to us at the time haha.
Victory #4: After trudging through the the rain this afternoon to a total of 5 grocery stores/ food marts, I was finally able to find vanilla extract to use to bake some cookies tomorrow. During our three hour search, I gawked at shelves with extra virgin olive oil, flax seeds, Hershey's syrup, Red Bull, vanilla beans, capers, sun dried tomatoes, and more, wondering how vanilla extract--like one of the most common baking ingredients--had not made the cut at Bangalore stores, but Red Bull had? Who knows.
Victory #5: Lakshmi said that she was interested in learning to bake today, so tomorrow she is going to help me and Gowramma. Today, she watched as we made another several batches of muffins as well as translated the banana bread recipe into Kannada (local language).
Victory #6: Gowramma has found another job in a garment factory. This is definitely a victory because she will be able to support her family with a substantial income each month. However, she was supposed to be the main coordinator for the baking program after I leave, so I am just trusting that God will bring another baker into the picture...maybe Lakshmi will be the one :).
It has been difficult to be hopeful these past few days...the more I learn about this culture, the sufferings of the people, the drastic separations between castes and classes, the thousands of diseases, the bondage and mistreatment of women, the extreme poverty, the success of the sex industry in this country, the cyclical lifestyles and patterns in families that seem to indicate there is no hope for change just drains the energy and at times the desire to even try to do something. Regarding our work with commercial sex workers, many times the women can make more money as a prostitute, so they have no incentive to join our programs or they leave the program to go back to "work", so that has been heartbreaking and disheartening. Many of the CSWs dont think they have worth or value or the ability to have a different profession, especially when CSW work is all they have known and moreover, all that their mothers and their grandmothers have known, so change is scary and daunting to them. Steph lived with the the girls in the old Rahab's Rope center for six months last year, and after hearing all of their stories, she emphasized to me the reality of fear that comes with the unknown for these women. Though baking bread/making jewelry/sewing may be better for them in the long run, all they know is the life of commercial sex worker, and thats all they see themselves as.
My heart is to find a way to transform the women's view of themselves, to empower them to step out of the known into the unknown and be freed from their doubts and insecurities. My prayer is that they would have hope and a fighting spirit despite the hopelessness and darkness of their worlds...that their eyes would be opened to how precious they are, how much value they have, how much they can be, and that they would have the strength to change. All these changes ARE daunting and time-consuming and difficult and frustrating, full of obstacles and fears and and mistakes and challenges, and being patient is OH SO HARD. But I'm trying to surrender the desires of my heart to help these women to the perfect timing of God's plan...to ask him to tame my heart and my passion to help these girls, that I would not lose hope in each girls' rescue and healing, but I would wait for His guidance and wisdom on how to effectively love and help.
Today, I had to face the reality that a bakery or a bread baking program could not work right now, and all of my plans and efforts and ideas might not come to fruition during these six weeks, or ever... but ultimately, the success of this project is not why I am here in India. I am not here so that I, Emily, can be successful, nor am I here just to start MY baking program MY way on MY time. Sure, I have pages and pages of plans and budgets and ideas on how to start a baking program in Bangalore, and it is awfully humbling to say all this, but this six weeks is not about what I have in mind, and bread is not the bottom line. LOVE and HOPE are the bottom line, and whatever way I can give these girls those two things is the reason I am here.
Victory #1: Yesterday, Gowramma and I baked 44 banana bread muffins in my apartment. Earlier in the afternoon, our neighbor's house maid, Sangitti, knocked on the door and pointed inside, so I said "sure" as she wattled past me and into the kitchen. The three of us made "chippatis", Indian tortillas, and eggs while we waited for the muffins to bake, exchanging stories and laughs through Kannada and English....but mostly, they were the ones just laughing at me haha.
Victory #2: The oven came to Anatoly's apartment last night, so we were able to start using it today. It is super shiny and functions great, and Anatoly was glowing this afternoon as she boiled milk for chai over her temporary stove top. (We will be moving it to a storefront/ training facility hopefully sometime in the next few days. But then again, this IS India, so maybe more like sometime in the next few weeks. Until then, I will be teaching baking classes at her home.)
Victory #3: Steph and I found some fresh veggies in the market and went a teensy bit overboard...we have enough tomatoes, onions, okra, carrots, peas, and squash to last us at least till the end of the week, and that is after we had veggies for dinner for the past two nights. We've made sautees and soups and pastas, whatever sounds good to us at the time haha.
Victory #4: After trudging through the the rain this afternoon to a total of 5 grocery stores/ food marts, I was finally able to find vanilla extract to use to bake some cookies tomorrow. During our three hour search, I gawked at shelves with extra virgin olive oil, flax seeds, Hershey's syrup, Red Bull, vanilla beans, capers, sun dried tomatoes, and more, wondering how vanilla extract--like one of the most common baking ingredients--had not made the cut at Bangalore stores, but Red Bull had? Who knows.
Victory #5: Lakshmi said that she was interested in learning to bake today, so tomorrow she is going to help me and Gowramma. Today, she watched as we made another several batches of muffins as well as translated the banana bread recipe into Kannada (local language).
Victory #6: Gowramma has found another job in a garment factory. This is definitely a victory because she will be able to support her family with a substantial income each month. However, she was supposed to be the main coordinator for the baking program after I leave, so I am just trusting that God will bring another baker into the picture...maybe Lakshmi will be the one :).
It has been difficult to be hopeful these past few days...the more I learn about this culture, the sufferings of the people, the drastic separations between castes and classes, the thousands of diseases, the bondage and mistreatment of women, the extreme poverty, the success of the sex industry in this country, the cyclical lifestyles and patterns in families that seem to indicate there is no hope for change just drains the energy and at times the desire to even try to do something. Regarding our work with commercial sex workers, many times the women can make more money as a prostitute, so they have no incentive to join our programs or they leave the program to go back to "work", so that has been heartbreaking and disheartening. Many of the CSWs dont think they have worth or value or the ability to have a different profession, especially when CSW work is all they have known and moreover, all that their mothers and their grandmothers have known, so change is scary and daunting to them. Steph lived with the the girls in the old Rahab's Rope center for six months last year, and after hearing all of their stories, she emphasized to me the reality of fear that comes with the unknown for these women. Though baking bread/making jewelry/sewing may be better for them in the long run, all they know is the life of commercial sex worker, and thats all they see themselves as.
My heart is to find a way to transform the women's view of themselves, to empower them to step out of the known into the unknown and be freed from their doubts and insecurities. My prayer is that they would have hope and a fighting spirit despite the hopelessness and darkness of their worlds...that their eyes would be opened to how precious they are, how much value they have, how much they can be, and that they would have the strength to change. All these changes ARE daunting and time-consuming and difficult and frustrating, full of obstacles and fears and and mistakes and challenges, and being patient is OH SO HARD. But I'm trying to surrender the desires of my heart to help these women to the perfect timing of God's plan...to ask him to tame my heart and my passion to help these girls, that I would not lose hope in each girls' rescue and healing, but I would wait for His guidance and wisdom on how to effectively love and help.
Today, I had to face the reality that a bakery or a bread baking program could not work right now, and all of my plans and efforts and ideas might not come to fruition during these six weeks, or ever... but ultimately, the success of this project is not why I am here in India. I am not here so that I, Emily, can be successful, nor am I here just to start MY baking program MY way on MY time. Sure, I have pages and pages of plans and budgets and ideas on how to start a baking program in Bangalore, and it is awfully humbling to say all this, but this six weeks is not about what I have in mind, and bread is not the bottom line. LOVE and HOPE are the bottom line, and whatever way I can give these girls those two things is the reason I am here.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Bangalore meets banana bread...
A cool breeze swept through our apartment this morning, pleasantly awaking Steph and me around 6:30am. After journaling and a granola bar, we headed town to Mackey's apartment to gameplan for the day. A gorgeous woman wrapped in a maroon sari greeted us at the door, and while I stood admiring her beauty, Steph exclaimed, "Gowramma, its been so long! How are you?!", embracing her friend. The three of us sat outside with Nellie on the porch, discussing Nellie's spotting of "parrots" (at least birds she claimed looked and acted like parrots) yesterday and laughing about Bangalore's lack of extention cords that left Nellie no choice but to make one herself. As we chatted, I passed out pieces of the vegan banana bread I had made the night before, asking for honest feedback. Nellie said "perfectly nice," Steph said "pretty good", and Gowramma took one pinch and then shriveled her nose saying, "Not like. Need more spice." I said AWESOME. Indians dont like banana bread. Good thing I'm not trying to start a banana bread bakery here in Bangalore cuz that could be a problem...
Gowramma, Steph, and I went back to our apartment to try and alter the recipe to Gowramma's taste, and I was saying prayer after prayer under my breath, hoping we would come up with SOMETHING, or my project could just turn into an epic failure. With an extra cup of sugar, an extra two bananas that were extra ripe, and calling our concoction "banana CAKE," Gowramma was smiling and wobbling her head back in forth, the Indian way of saying "yes" or "good." Just for fun, I suggested we try and make "spicy" bread, baking another loaf with just one banana but a few teaspoons of a combination of Indian spices called Garam Masala. Dipping my spoon into the bowl and pulling out a generous helping, I licked the spoon clean and thought, "Hmm. I can't test the spice." Well 6.3 seconds later I was coughing and rummaging around the refrigerator for water, wiping the sweat beads that were forming on my brow, silently cursing the chilli powder that poisoned the aftertaste. Conclusion: Indian spices in banana bread are a bad idea. Who would have thought? Probably any other normal human being could have told you that it was going to taste horrible...Not my brightest moment.
I spent the rest of the afternoon sharing the banana bread with the other women working on the jewelry, and they wobbled their heads in approval. YAAAYYYYYY!!!!!!! I have a recipe that works, women that like it, and an oven that is hopefully being delivered tomorrow... we'll see about that...
Today, while Stephanie and I worked with the women, David Moore met with several property owners to try and secure a new training center/ home for Rahab's Rope programs. He found one apartment that he liked with 5 bedrooms and 2 finished baths with 1 unfinished bath. Adding in the cost to remodel the unfinished bath, David asked the owner if the plumbing in the bath had been completed, and his response was that he would not be allowed to change the bath for superstitious reasons. Puzzled but flexible, David agreed and then asked the man what time he wanted to meet tomorrow to talk things over. The man responded and said he didn't do business on Tuesdays for superstitious reasons. Apparently, many Indians are superstitious and serious about their superstitions...
Sunday, May 16, 2010
12 things I did and learned in the past two days.
Did:
1. Bought and ate lychees from a vendor on Commercial Street. (If you don't know what a lychee is, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lychee).
2. Picked out beads from three little girls to create new jewelry designs for the women in the Rahab's Rope Jewelry-making program.
3. Learned that "Nimma yaseru Emily" means "My name is Emily" in Kannada.
4. Ate Indian food the Indian way. In India, the left hand is considered unclean, so you can only use your right hand to eat....and "fork" and "spoon" are gibberish terms here...so you literally just use your right hand.
5. Said a bad word when a 6-foot long snake slithered across the road in front of me this afternoon, a comfortable 10 feet away...and then found out when I asked Stephanie about it that cobras are common in this area...
Learned:
1. Every 6 hours in India, a woman is beaten or stabbed to death, or harassed to the point of committing suicide.
2. There are 100,000 CSWs (commercial sex workers) in Bangalore alone.
3. In the slum that is a ten minute walk from my apartment, 8-10 baby girls are slaughtered each month.
4. India is growing at a rate of 1.34% increase each year, so at this rate, next year there will be a total of 1.5 billion people in the country.
5. 37.2% of the people in India are illiterate.
6. 2.3 million people in India are living with HIV/AIDS (0.3% of the population) http://www.avert.org/aidsindia.htm
7. Each hour, four women and girls enter the sex industry in India.
Remembered:
1. God is sovereign.
2. God is just.
3. God's love is immeasurable and unfailing.
1. Bought and ate lychees from a vendor on Commercial Street. (If you don't know what a lychee is, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lychee).
2. Picked out beads from three little girls to create new jewelry designs for the women in the Rahab's Rope Jewelry-making program.
3. Learned that "Nimma yaseru Emily" means "My name is Emily" in Kannada.
4. Ate Indian food the Indian way. In India, the left hand is considered unclean, so you can only use your right hand to eat....and "fork" and "spoon" are gibberish terms here...so you literally just use your right hand.
5. Said a bad word when a 6-foot long snake slithered across the road in front of me this afternoon, a comfortable 10 feet away...and then found out when I asked Stephanie about it that cobras are common in this area...
Learned:
1. Every 6 hours in India, a woman is beaten or stabbed to death, or harassed to the point of committing suicide.
2. There are 100,000 CSWs (commercial sex workers) in Bangalore alone.
3. In the slum that is a ten minute walk from my apartment, 8-10 baby girls are slaughtered each month.
4. India is growing at a rate of 1.34% increase each year, so at this rate, next year there will be a total of 1.5 billion people in the country.
5. 37.2% of the people in India are illiterate.
6. 2.3 million people in India are living with HIV/AIDS (0.3% of the population) http://www.avert.org/aidsindia.htm
7. Each hour, four women and girls enter the sex industry in India.
Remembered:
1. God is sovereign.
2. God is just.
3. God's love is immeasurable and unfailing.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Mall in the morning, Jewelry and Sewing in the afternoon.
Friday morning, Nellie, Mackey, and I decided to go to the mall to buy baking soda for my bread baking and some Indian clothes. Gathering our things, we scurried down to the street and marched down the road until Mackey waved down an auto. When most auto drivers see white people, they try and charge them a fixed rate for a ride instead of using the meter, but Mackey will have nothing of the sort. I thought she might slap one man after he tried to tell her that his meter was broken, but then quickly turned it on when she began to walk away. The three of us squished in the back of this little yellow auto-rickshaw, and I was sandwiched between Nellie on my left and Mackey on my right, and though we were speeding and swirving down roads without rules, I could not have been happier. At one point, our driver turned suddenly to the left and Mackey had to catch herself to avoid falling out of the auto. Nellie leaned across me and said, "Mackey don't you worry now. If you hadda gone flyin out, I woudda grabbed me one of your bird legs and Emily woudda taken the other." I nodded through a burst of laughter.
As the day went on, I decided Mackey and Nellie were the female versions of Hub and Garth, the two great-uncles in Secondhand Lions, and I was the girl version of Walter, their great-nephew who gets dropped off at their house one summer. We got lots of looks in the mall, two hollerin old ladies and me waddling up stairs and escalators, through the aisles of a bookstore, grocery store, and clothes store. In the bookstore, I went off to find someone who could help me look for the movie Ghandi, and returned to find Nellie and Mackey crouched over a box of nailpolish. "Emily-lookie here! I done found me some polish for 15 rupees!" exclaimed Nellie. I congratulated her as we walked out of the store and over to KFC. Yes, Kentucky Fried Chicken has a store in the mall in Bangalore, and Nellie told us that's what "we was havin' for lunch", and Mackey and I didn't dare to argue.
So the three of us sat at a table with our fried chicken and coleslaw, the two of them drinking chocolate milkshakes and eating fries as well, with Nellie askin us if we didn't mind if she had some of the skin of our chicken 'cause that's her favorite part. After lunch we headed to the grocery store, and while we were standing in the spaghetti aisle, one of Mackey's favorite songs came on the speakers in the store. She jumped off the ground and turned to Nellie and said, "Oh Nellie, dance with me!" And I watched as the two old women laughed and chuckled, waltzing down the pasta aisle together. What a sight it was to see.
After our outing, Nellie went to take a nap, so I met up with Stephanie. We helped some of the Indian women who help teach the Rahab's Rope jewelry program by organizing beads and string for a few hours. Later, we walked down to Anatoly's apartment to help her take apart a sewing machine that Rahab's Rope bought for a sweet woman named Pushpa. I spent most of the time playing with Anatoly's little boy named Ezekiel. My heart melted as we played together, taking pictures of each other with my camera and laughing about how silly we looked, and I had to fight back tears when I thought about his mother's suffering and pain and horror-filled past.
As the day went on, I decided Mackey and Nellie were the female versions of Hub and Garth, the two great-uncles in Secondhand Lions, and I was the girl version of Walter, their great-nephew who gets dropped off at their house one summer. We got lots of looks in the mall, two hollerin old ladies and me waddling up stairs and escalators, through the aisles of a bookstore, grocery store, and clothes store. In the bookstore, I went off to find someone who could help me look for the movie Ghandi, and returned to find Nellie and Mackey crouched over a box of nailpolish. "Emily-lookie here! I done found me some polish for 15 rupees!" exclaimed Nellie. I congratulated her as we walked out of the store and over to KFC. Yes, Kentucky Fried Chicken has a store in the mall in Bangalore, and Nellie told us that's what "we was havin' for lunch", and Mackey and I didn't dare to argue.
So the three of us sat at a table with our fried chicken and coleslaw, the two of them drinking chocolate milkshakes and eating fries as well, with Nellie askin us if we didn't mind if she had some of the skin of our chicken 'cause that's her favorite part. After lunch we headed to the grocery store, and while we were standing in the spaghetti aisle, one of Mackey's favorite songs came on the speakers in the store. She jumped off the ground and turned to Nellie and said, "Oh Nellie, dance with me!" And I watched as the two old women laughed and chuckled, waltzing down the pasta aisle together. What a sight it was to see.
After our outing, Nellie went to take a nap, so I met up with Stephanie. We helped some of the Indian women who help teach the Rahab's Rope jewelry program by organizing beads and string for a few hours. Later, we walked down to Anatoly's apartment to help her take apart a sewing machine that Rahab's Rope bought for a sweet woman named Pushpa. I spent most of the time playing with Anatoly's little boy named Ezekiel. My heart melted as we played together, taking pictures of each other with my camera and laughing about how silly we looked, and I had to fight back tears when I thought about his mother's suffering and pain and horror-filled past.
"Aint no reason to worry about connecting with nobody. God's got a plan, and He's gonna do with you what He wants."-Nellie B.
45 years ago, two young mothers sat side by side at a church meeting in North Georgia, listening to the testimony of woman named Pearl Jenkins. She served the people of India for several years, and her stories about healing and compassion and sacrifice had the two women impassioned to join her work. One of the young mothers turned to the other and said, "Oh, me. I want to be just like Pearl Jenkins someday." And her friend said, "Me too."
The two women left the meeting and back to their busy homes where their responsibilities as mothers of four kids took over their lives, forgetting about Pearl Jenkins and their covenant to each other that day.
40 years later, one of the women heard about an organization named Rahab's Rope that served and loved sex workers in India, and she decided to join the team and live in Bangalore for 2 years. She began to write stories and reports about her experiences and send them home, and one day she received a response from a fellow church member who said, "The stories you're telling remind me of a woman who travelled and lived in India years and years ago, and she used to come to my church to tell us about her time in India. Her name was Pearle Jenkins." The woman leaped from her chair and praised the Lord with tears of joy as she remembered her conversation with her friend years ago, and how they had promised each other they wanted to be just like Pearle.
Just a few months later, the other woman was at a prayer meeting when someone mentioned a prayer request for their friend serving in India. Realizing the woman in India was her friend too, she was flooded with the memory of her covenant to her friend to go to India one day and serve the people, and so she emailed her friend in Asia and they reconnected when she returned to the United States for a few months. Now, the two old mothers are living together in Bangalore for 6 months, fulfilling their desires to be like Pearle.
The two women are Mackey and Nellie, and Mackey is the staff member of Rahab's Rope while Nellie is visiting to build a playground for an orphanage. They are the cutest, sweetest, funniest friends, and if I'm half as cool as they are when I'm in my sixties, I'll be set :). I told Mackey that I wanted to be just like her someday and she said, "Careful now, Emily. You just watch what you say out loud now, 'cause Jesus will send you to India in 50 years like He did me! Oh you done it now, can't you just hear Him smilin' and laughin' up there?"
The two women left the meeting and back to their busy homes where their responsibilities as mothers of four kids took over their lives, forgetting about Pearl Jenkins and their covenant to each other that day.
40 years later, one of the women heard about an organization named Rahab's Rope that served and loved sex workers in India, and she decided to join the team and live in Bangalore for 2 years. She began to write stories and reports about her experiences and send them home, and one day she received a response from a fellow church member who said, "The stories you're telling remind me of a woman who travelled and lived in India years and years ago, and she used to come to my church to tell us about her time in India. Her name was Pearle Jenkins." The woman leaped from her chair and praised the Lord with tears of joy as she remembered her conversation with her friend years ago, and how they had promised each other they wanted to be just like Pearle.
Just a few months later, the other woman was at a prayer meeting when someone mentioned a prayer request for their friend serving in India. Realizing the woman in India was her friend too, she was flooded with the memory of her covenant to her friend to go to India one day and serve the people, and so she emailed her friend in Asia and they reconnected when she returned to the United States for a few months. Now, the two old mothers are living together in Bangalore for 6 months, fulfilling their desires to be like Pearle.
The two women are Mackey and Nellie, and Mackey is the staff member of Rahab's Rope while Nellie is visiting to build a playground for an orphanage. They are the cutest, sweetest, funniest friends, and if I'm half as cool as they are when I'm in my sixties, I'll be set :). I told Mackey that I wanted to be just like her someday and she said, "Careful now, Emily. You just watch what you say out loud now, 'cause Jesus will send you to India in 50 years like He did me! Oh you done it now, can't you just hear Him smilin' and laughin' up there?"
Thursday, May 13, 2010
City Market+ 16800Rs ($400)+ 99 degree heat +Mackey, Nellie, Latka, and Suresh= ONE GAS OVEN AND AN AMAZING FIRST DAY IN BANGALORE.
The sun greeted us weary travellers at 5:30am, pouring in through the porch that extends from our second story apartment. Stephanie,a 24-year old graduate of UGA who is on staff in Bangalore for Rahab's Rope, and I had tossed and turned in the 88 degree air and couldnt sleep so we decided to get up and cool off. After a cold shower and coffee, we headed over to Mackey's apartment to meet up with the rest of our crew:
Mackey- a 67 year old teacher who has lived in Bangalore for a year and a half, teaching the sex-workers English and Math. Nellie- Mackey's 68 year old friend who is a welder and carpenter, and she is building a playground for a children's home over the next 4 months. David Moore- co-founder of Rahab's Rope who flew to Bangalore with me last night. Suresh and Latha- a precious Indian couple who have several ministries--they tutor and feed dinner to over 220 children from a nearby slum 5 nights a week, minister to people in over 30 Villages in the state of Karnataka, hold sewing classes for impoverished women, and help with finding women for the Rahab's Rope programs.
Mackey, Nellie, Suresh, Latha, and I split off and went to the City Market to look for an oven for me and welding tools for Nellie. After 6 stores and much bargaining, I found a gas oven for about $400 and am waiting for it to be delivered on Monday. Nellie was a total hoot-bargaining with three Indian men for all sorts of construction tools, pointing and hollerin with her south Georgian accent, and she was overjoyed to find almost everything she needed. Mackey and Nellie have known each other since high school, over 50 years, and watching them cut up in the market and make jokes about each other's pasts had me grinning nonstop.
On top of that, the beauty of the Indian people had me smiling even more. Dazzling fabrics draped over the women's deep colored colored skin, brilliant colored wraps hanging down to their toes. The men were hustling and bustling through the streets with more western style clothing, speeding fearlessly on motorcyles and autos through the overcrowded alleyways and streets.
The five of us ate lunch at Mackey's favorite restaurant called Infinitea, and I had chicken and peach sweet tea--it was delicious :). We headed back to the apartment to make a gameplan before walking over to Anatoly's and Lakshmi's apartment where the sewing program takes place and where I will begin teaching baking classes next week, and then we went to Suresh and Latha's house where the 220 children were doing their studies. They. Were. Precious. When I walked into the porch, a hundred smiling faces and dancing eyes turned to welcome me, and then the sweetest chorus of "Hello Auntie Emily" greeted my ears. It was a good day. :).
ELW
Mackey- a 67 year old teacher who has lived in Bangalore for a year and a half, teaching the sex-workers English and Math. Nellie- Mackey's 68 year old friend who is a welder and carpenter, and she is building a playground for a children's home over the next 4 months. David Moore- co-founder of Rahab's Rope who flew to Bangalore with me last night. Suresh and Latha- a precious Indian couple who have several ministries--they tutor and feed dinner to over 220 children from a nearby slum 5 nights a week, minister to people in over 30 Villages in the state of Karnataka, hold sewing classes for impoverished women, and help with finding women for the Rahab's Rope programs.
Mackey, Nellie, Suresh, Latha, and I split off and went to the City Market to look for an oven for me and welding tools for Nellie. After 6 stores and much bargaining, I found a gas oven for about $400 and am waiting for it to be delivered on Monday. Nellie was a total hoot-bargaining with three Indian men for all sorts of construction tools, pointing and hollerin with her south Georgian accent, and she was overjoyed to find almost everything she needed. Mackey and Nellie have known each other since high school, over 50 years, and watching them cut up in the market and make jokes about each other's pasts had me grinning nonstop.
On top of that, the beauty of the Indian people had me smiling even more. Dazzling fabrics draped over the women's deep colored colored skin, brilliant colored wraps hanging down to their toes. The men were hustling and bustling through the streets with more western style clothing, speeding fearlessly on motorcyles and autos through the overcrowded alleyways and streets.
The five of us ate lunch at Mackey's favorite restaurant called Infinitea, and I had chicken and peach sweet tea--it was delicious :). We headed back to the apartment to make a gameplan before walking over to Anatoly's and Lakshmi's apartment where the sewing program takes place and where I will begin teaching baking classes next week, and then we went to Suresh and Latha's house where the 220 children were doing their studies. They. Were. Precious. When I walked into the porch, a hundred smiling faces and dancing eyes turned to welcome me, and then the sweetest chorus of "Hello Auntie Emily" greeted my ears. It was a good day. :).
ELW
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
"Let your heart take courage."
"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD...Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage." Psalm 27: 13-14
My heart has been trembling for the past 24 hours: I am going tomorrow. To India. For 6 weeks. Fear has been trying to seep into my spirit, and I've been trying desperately to bolt the doors of my heart, praying against despair. I keep coming back to the Mercy Me Song, "Where you lead me, I will follow, forever and a day" and I'm trying to make this lyric my own, but my eyes keep welling up with tears. The beautiful thing about Psalm 27 is that it doesn't say anything about me doing anything courageous or digging inside my weak self to find some sort of boldness- No. Instead, my heart takes courage in waiting--- in resting, following His command in Psalm 46:10 to "Be still and know that I am God." While I am weak, He is strong. When I am scared, He is standing beside me with His arms open wide, waiting for me to run under His wing and rest. When I cannot (which is pretty much always), He can.
ELW
My heart has been trembling for the past 24 hours: I am going tomorrow. To India. For 6 weeks. Fear has been trying to seep into my spirit, and I've been trying desperately to bolt the doors of my heart, praying against despair. I keep coming back to the Mercy Me Song, "Where you lead me, I will follow, forever and a day" and I'm trying to make this lyric my own, but my eyes keep welling up with tears. The beautiful thing about Psalm 27 is that it doesn't say anything about me doing anything courageous or digging inside my weak self to find some sort of boldness- No. Instead, my heart takes courage in waiting--- in resting, following His command in Psalm 46:10 to "Be still and know that I am God." While I am weak, He is strong. When I am scared, He is standing beside me with His arms open wide, waiting for me to run under His wing and rest. When I cannot (which is pretty much always), He can.
ELW
Sunday, May 9, 2010
HOME...3 days till departure.
Being home for the past few days has lifted my spirit...I feel refreshed and rejuvenated by my family-and especially today, on Mother's Day, I'm reminded of the blessing of being in a family, both an earthly and eternal one. In Isaiah 66:13 our Father promises, "As a mother comforts her children, so will I comfort you." A mother's touch is unlike any other-it soothes, heals, protects, comforts, and connects in a way that no other person can, and my mother's selfless and active love reminds me so much of Christ's sacrificial love-that can transcend all understanding, break down all barriers, cleanse all sin, heal all hearts, make all new, do anything and everything we can possibly imagine. This love, this perfect love that is patient, kind, humble, gentle, calm, forgiving, joyful, protecting, trusting, hope, and causes us to persevere (1 Cor. 13), this is the love that I long to bathe in--dipping my heart into Our Savior's living and loving water, and pouring it into thirsting hearts just like mine.
This morning at church we studied the epistle of Jude and learned about apathy, and I was so convicted. I never want to be numb to the hungering of my heart, to be ambivalent towards the suffering and hurting and darkness of so many all around the world, to forget and become unmoved by the death and resurrection of Our Lord Jesus Christ, to doubt the healing power of love, to be concerned with MY desires-MY dreams-MY life, to live for money and success, to become obsessed with my reputation, to spend hours worrying, to forget why I am here.... and yet I have and i do and I continue to struggle with my own pride and selfishness. Though I have been broken many times, I sometimes find myself blinking an eye when I hear stories of starvation and hunger, genocide, sickness and disease, death, human-trafficking, and other sufferings... after this morning, my greatest fear is that I will fall into a routine revolving around me, my job, my school, my work, my friends, my activities, and my passion will flicker and burn out. I hope and pray my heart will ALWAYS be sensitive to the hurt of any and all people, and that I would grow more and more selfless and be able to see and hear and feel the pain of my brothers and sisters in a more real way every day...so that I can love them better.
ELW
This morning at church we studied the epistle of Jude and learned about apathy, and I was so convicted. I never want to be numb to the hungering of my heart, to be ambivalent towards the suffering and hurting and darkness of so many all around the world, to forget and become unmoved by the death and resurrection of Our Lord Jesus Christ, to doubt the healing power of love, to be concerned with MY desires-MY dreams-MY life, to live for money and success, to become obsessed with my reputation, to spend hours worrying, to forget why I am here.... and yet I have and i do and I continue to struggle with my own pride and selfishness. Though I have been broken many times, I sometimes find myself blinking an eye when I hear stories of starvation and hunger, genocide, sickness and disease, death, human-trafficking, and other sufferings... after this morning, my greatest fear is that I will fall into a routine revolving around me, my job, my school, my work, my friends, my activities, and my passion will flicker and burn out. I hope and pray my heart will ALWAYS be sensitive to the hurt of any and all people, and that I would grow more and more selfless and be able to see and hear and feel the pain of my brothers and sisters in a more real way every day...so that I can love them better.
ELW
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
"Friends are the most important ingredient in this recipe of life."
This quote rings sooooo true to my heart--especially in the light of how precious my friends are!!! For the past week, Ive been planning a trip to Cumberland Transit to purchase a pair of Chacos but I was too busy to make it there! ... and last night, I was handed a bag with a brand new pair of chacos, a t-shirt, and 6-week underwear (I'm still trying to figure those out haha) from my friends!!!! As I told them last night, while their gifts equipped my body, their friendship has equipped my heart. More and more, I am convinced that people are the most important part of life---that they are WAY more important than money, activities, grades, careers---that relationships are the most valuable investment we can make.... that I want my life to be about my friends, making them smile, making sure they know how much I love them and how much they matter, and mostly, giving them hugs...BECAUSE:
Scientific Research has shown that "Every human being needs four hugs per day merely to survive. Eight hugs per day to maintain oneself at a strong emotional level. Twelve hugs per day to grow and become a better person." So never underestimate the value of a hug, or the value of making people feel loved.
One of my favorite quotes EVER is by Maya Angelou: "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."
Peace. :)
Scientific Research has shown that "Every human being needs four hugs per day merely to survive. Eight hugs per day to maintain oneself at a strong emotional level. Twelve hugs per day to grow and become a better person." So never underestimate the value of a hug, or the value of making people feel loved.
One of my favorite quotes EVER is by Maya Angelou: "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."
Peace. :)
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Apocalypse 2010?
So to say that the past few days have been a "whirlwind" would be leaving out the fact that Nashville has had a tornado and severe flooding for the past 48 hours...that the roof of my dorm has been leaking and now my floor has no running water...that I am having a neurological allergic reaction to the polio vaccine I got on Wednesday...that I went to the ER a few nights ago for muscle tremors, dizziness, nausea, and severe headache and met with an Indian neurologist (chance? I think not :)) who thinks I had a seizure, and my body is freaking out in response to the vaccine...that despite all of this, our Father promises:
1 But now, this is what the LORD says—
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
3 For I am the LORD, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;
I give Egypt for your ransom,
Cush [a] and Seba in your stead.
4 Since you are precious and honored in my sight,
and because I love you,
I will give men in exchange for you,
and people in exchange for your life.
5 Do not be afraid, for I am with you;
I will bring your children from the east
and gather you from the west."
He is so good--and I am so overwhelmed by His care for ALL His children that are "precious and honored in my sight," and I'm brought to my knees by His grace---that no matter what storm or fire in my life that I may face now or while I am India, He is there...that no matter how faithless I am, He is always faithful.
1 But now, this is what the LORD says—
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
3 For I am the LORD, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;
I give Egypt for your ransom,
Cush [a] and Seba in your stead.
4 Since you are precious and honored in my sight,
and because I love you,
I will give men in exchange for you,
and people in exchange for your life.
5 Do not be afraid, for I am with you;
I will bring your children from the east
and gather you from the west."
He is so good--and I am so overwhelmed by His care for ALL His children that are "precious and honored in my sight," and I'm brought to my knees by His grace---that no matter what storm or fire in my life that I may face now or while I am India, He is there...that no matter how faithless I am, He is always faithful.
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