Dying for Love

I follow a pretty set routine here. My schedule is flexible, with times being on a variable "Indian clock" that shifts with the weather, mood, or a variety of ever-present unforeseen events. But the basic elements remain the same. Quiet mornings. Classes throughout the day. Games and prayer with the children's home kids. And always--among much other daily reading material--a copy of The Deccan Chronicle, "the Largest Circulated English Daily in South India." I like reading the local news because it reminds me of what's going on in other people's daily lives.

At New Hope, we live a very peaceful existence. I teach. I play with children. I write. I teach some more. I attend church and various outreaches. The compound where we live is clean and bright. The children are happy and loved. And mostly I write about the ways people are helping each other and about the amazing things happening here.

But the orphaned children and The Deccan Chronicle are a constant reminder that a very sad, harsh world lies outside these compound walls. 

The children, because they all came here after they were abandoned, abused, discarded, or victims of disease (many of the parents died of HIV), or because their parents were unable to care for them. Life is hard for these families, and we only see small glimpses of their great pains.

The Deccan Chronicle, because the news is always pretty bad. The same can be said for most papers in the US too, I know. I worked for several newspapers, and I've read my share of them. But there's a disturbing pattern I've noticed with The Chronicle lately: In almost every paper there are reports of killings over inter-caste relationships, and always, always, always at least one murder or suicide by a lover in anguish. 

People are killing themselves, their families, and each other because of love, either for the lack of it or because it didn't work out as they planned.

Yesterday, one of the stories that caught my eye was about a girl whose family tortured and murdered her along with her lower-caste lover to defend their family honour. They believed that her relationship with a boy from a class below her would stain their family reputation. They believed it so absolutely that they set aside basic human decency and love for their own child to brutally murder her. Because her relationship choice didn't go according to their plan. These "honour killings" are sickeningly common here. I've seen at least four stories like it in the past month.

A couple of days ago, a young girl jumped in front of a train to kill herself after being rejected by her lover. 

There was a rash of local murders in which boys were slitting the throats of girls who rejected them. 

Not to mention a story about a narrowly-avoided child marriage; a man who murdered his son because he suspected he was illegitimate; a woman who was shot in the head by her brother-in-law, who was in love with her, because she refused to commit adultery; and a young Romeo & Juliet couple who killed themselves because they knew their parents would not approve of their alliance.

With the complex social system in this country, involving intricate caste hierarchies, religious elements, ancient traditions, and the twist of the modernization and Westernization of the giant cities, it's impossible for a young Western girl like myself to offer any conclusions about why this is happening. But I know that it has something to do with darkness, evil, and the deep-rooted hold that sin can have on people. It is truly tragic.

I know that all human beings crave love and intimacy. We yearn for it like we yearn for food, but with more intensity and emotion. We daydream and we cry over it. And many people are so desperate to find that one person to love forever... so desperate to be satisfied with love that they are killing and being killed over it.

Love--and the endless pursuit of it--may be all we need... but we have to look in the right place. Human love can never fully satisfy. Not permanently. Our world is too broken for that. 

"Some wandered in desert wastes,
finding no way to a city to dwell in;
hungry and thirsty,
their soul fainted within them.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress...
Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love...
For he satisfies the longing soul."
                                           -Psalm 107:4-9

My heart breaks over these terrible deaths. But I am grateful for places like New Hope, where true love is lived in a way that brings hope into hopeless lives. Pray with me for the victims of these killings. Pray that the love that overcomes darkness will find its place in India.

The Best Parade

I've never liked parades. My family and friends know that this has been true since my childhood. At parades I sit quietly and don't make too much of a fuss, but inside I'm yawning. Sometimes I roll my eyes a little. I'm not sure exactly why... maybe it's that I don't like to sit and wave at everyone...maybe I don't buy the feigned excitement...maybe I get easily bored. The theme doesn't seem to matter: Fourth of July, Christmas, Fiesta, even Disneyland parades--which are elaborate and entertaining--just don't do it for me. I've always thought it would be boring to sit on a float and wave at everyone from the other side, too.

But this week I was in a parade like none I've ever seen before... a parade to end all parades... a parade that I'm pretty confident I will remember forever. It didn't have special effects or fireworks or elaborate dances. It was simple and happy and beautiful and exuberant, and it taught me something. Fun and educational! ;)

This week New Hope Church held its first Vacation Bible School for children! Nobody knew how it would go, what it would look like exactly, or how many children would come. Kristin and I were unsure if we would be anything more than onlookers to the process, as we hadn't been given any responsibilities for the week or any lesson plans. The church leaders didn't know if any children aside from the children's home kids would even show up.

But come Monday morning, there were 460 children at the church from 18 neighboring villages! There was singing! Dancing! Bible stories! Puppet shows! Games! It was a perfectly Indian, last-minute event that blessed a small army of children and their families. The church called it a "Children's Blessing Festival." 

Kristin and I were asked the first day if we would tell a story (not a Bible story, as they were already learning Bible stories) and teach some songs to the children. Songs are no problem, we can sing anytime. But a story... hmmm... we begged leave to retire and brainstorm for a while. Recruiting our other American friend, Ben, we decided to tell a version of The Three Little Pigs, casting Ben as the Big Bad Wolf. Voices, actions, and all manner of silliness earned the approval, bated breath, and interest of the children, who even paid attention to the moral at the end. So each day we converted a classic children's story into a Biblical lesson about God's love for us and acted it out, complete with crazy costumes, makeup, and volunteer involvement on stage. I wish you could have seen the reactions we got from the kids as Ben the lion chased Kristin the mouse, wagging his tail and roaring. I'm not sure, but it may have been even more fun for us than it was for the kids. (for photos of this and more, visit my Facebook page)

It was so sweet to join the children in worship, learn their action songs, pray with them, and see them soak up the word of God. So many children came up to us after each session for prayer, and it was humbling to place my hands on their little shoulders and lift their needs up to the Lord. The faith of children is simple and beautiful.

On the final day of VBS, we held a parade through Chillakallu. With 460 dancing, singing, paper-crown-wearing kids, we trooped through the streets of the village, carrying banners with scriptures declaring the truth about Jesus and the love of God. Volunteers and children alike were so excited. The atmosphere was purely joyful. Faces with radiant smiles sang and shouted Jesus' name. Parade leaders danced and sang at the front with a bicycle-rickshaw pulling a small speaker to broadcast the vocals. Drums beating, hands clapping, there was a lot of glorious noise! And wouldn't you know it, the whole village came out to see the happy commotion of these child-evangelists.

Walking through the streets, holding the hand of a small boy and joining my voice with 500 other little voices in song, I was struck by how happy we all were to be declaring Jesus' name to the community. There was no shame or embarrassment. There was no real plan or strategy. There was no eloquent preaching. There was just a group of people so happy about their salvation that they wanted to dance and sing for all to see. 

I felt lightness and joy and privilege. What a happy thing it is to tell others about the blessing of life in Christ! What a special gift we have, this ability to declare who He is! Why do I hesitate so often to talk of His works, when all of them are good? How can I fail to see what a blessing it is to share that joy with others?

The Christians in this overwhelmingly-Hindu community have so few material comforts and so little worldly love. They have much more to lose than I do by declaring their faith: they face persecution, discrimination in the job market, the loss of family, even violence. But they are so happy to be saved that they count those risks as nothing compared to the joy and privilege it is to share the one true God with others. They can't keep quiet about it when so many around them are living in ignorance of the salvation and joy available to them! It's a beautiful task to share Jesus.

I like what Indian pastor Theodore Williams said about evangelism: 

We face a humanity that is too precious to neglect. We know a remedy for the ills of the world too wonderful to withhold. We have a Christ too glorious to hide. We have an adventure that is too thrilling to miss.

May we all learn to recognize the privilege it is to evangelize wherever we are, whether that means opening the Bible to share scripture with a friend at work, inviting someone to church, living uprightly in a fallen world, or parading down the street dancing for the Lord.

I know every day can't be a parade, but I want to live my daily life reflecting the precious and wonderful task before me: to happily spread the news about the true source of joy wherever I go. It's an adventure too thrilling to miss.

Wild rain

Have you ever gotten caught in a monsoon? Rain here in India at this time of year isn't just rain... It's a monsoon.

It is such a wild, exotic rain, hot and full of electricity.

Even as I write this from the front porch of our home, the sky is quickly turning from blue to to grey, from blazing sun to darkness. The wind picked up, the girls are running to gather their clothes from the lines. The rain begins to pour down like a curtain of water, droplets so close together that there appear to be rivers in the sky.

The change is sudden... so sudden that it all happens within only a minute or two. The sun was here, now it's hidden behind a thick layer of cloud. The heavens are unleashed in a torrent.

Lightning strikes. Thunder claps like the most physical, tangible noise you've ever heard. The once-blue sky is a contrast of black and white. The heavy air is wet and smells green and  earthy. The water that the land so desperately needs is granted in abundance like a generous gift.

The sudden nature of the storm reminds me of the way God blesses us. Sometimes the blessings of life are in the little things, and we can find soft, small happiness in the beauty of His provision even in darkness. But there are moments in life--usually moments when we have completely submitted to His will with full abandon, like the people tithing in Malachi--when He opens up all of heaven and completely drenches us with His love.

"Bring all the tithes into the storehouse so there will be enough food in my Temple. If you do," says the LORD of Heaven's Armies, "I will open the windows of heaven for you. I will pour out a blessing so great you won't have enough room to take it in! Try it! Put me to the test!  -Malachi 3:10

Setting out for India was a little scary... very out of my comfort zone and not part of my personal plan. But I knew it was the right thing to do. And jumping into it was like jumping into the biggest monsoon ever. The thunder roars, inspiring awe and fear.. but the blessings have been so abundant that I cannot take them in. God is providing, equipping, teaching, loving... showering us with His grace, mercy, beauty, peace. 

In only two weeks, Kristin and I have seen so much and been so encouraged by the people here and by the beautiful work that's happening at New Hope through the Spirit of God. It is amazing, inspiring, and humbling. We are so incredibly full of joy to be here, fulfilling God's plan for us as we care for orphans in their distress.

Try me! God said. Put me to the test! He is no liar. When He promises blessing, He fills the whole sky with it. I don't have room to take it in.

Bring on the rain.