He's listening.

There are moments in my life when I come face to face with the reality of who God is, and it scares me.   I wish it didn’t.  It’s nothing more than God being exactly who He says He is, but if I’m honest, it shakes me to my core.

One of those moments came this week when God heard and answered a very specific prayer request.  I was overjoyed, then in awe, then somewhat scared.  The almighty, living God heard my prayer, and answered it.  Me-- A lowly servant.  The word ‘humbled’ does not seem to do justice to how I felt.  I am reminded that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Psalm 111:10, Proverbs 9:10).   

Let me explain…

Since coming home from India, one thing Chelsie and I have been praying for specifically is that God would raise up a caretaker to help Vimala at Peace Home.  Peace Home is the hostel (orphanage) that Back2Back recently took over operationally, and where 16 girls and 1 boy are all cared for by one 24 year old single mom named Vimala.  Good caretakers are worth more than gold (if you ask me), and we rarely strike gold.  Learning the names and faces of the children living at Peace Home was enough to light a fire under us to ask God for this miracle.  Almost every day since returning, Chelsie and I have prayed.  And since we were praying for a miracle, we figured we might as well ask for specifics—it’s God after all, and He can do anything He wants.  So we prayed specifically for Him to send someone who is a Christian and who can speak English.  It felt like asking for a Rolls Royce when you’d settle for an old Ford.  Seventeen children and one adult sounds like ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ to me. 

At our Wednesday evening prayer meeting this week, Chelsie and I met together and asked God again for Him to answer this request.  I left not sure if He was paying attention, or if it would be better if I packed my bags and moved to India to care for the children myself.  My sin nature tends to believe that when I don’t see God act immediately, taking things into my own hands is better than waiting. 

Thursday morning, in the midst of planning my move, Chelsie got an email from our staff in India.  Just a few days earlier there were no leads on caretakers, but then, out of nowhere, a woman willing to help showed up.  And wouldn’t you know it?  She speaks some English.  And she’s a Christian.  I will resist the temptation to explain to you just how rare this is in India.  (No I won’t.  The percentage of Christians in India is less than 10%, and most are very poor meaning they do not know English).  Chelsie and I read the email in disbelief.  God heard us.  He heard us and He acted.  He’s alive.  And He is who He says He is.

The truth is, every time we pray, something happens.  Whether we see it or not, we can know it is true.  When we feel incapable of helping the orphaned child due to proximal, relational, or financial limitations, we can take comfort in knowing that prayer is no small contribution.  Swathi, Pavithra, and Shashikala are just a few of those who need us to raise up our voice when theirs is not heard. 

Please join me in praying for the orphaned child all over the world.  If you’re having trouble connecting—pray for an 8 year old special needs boy named Manoj who's been forgotten by the world and needs a forever home.  And remember—at one time, we were all orphans.  God came to us, adopted us into his family, and became our Father.  He never gets tired of that story.

God is moving in India: Mercy Home.

Mercy Home is an orphanage located near a small town 2 hours outside Hyderabad.  Our team stayed at Mercy Home for 2 nights and got to experience a taste of hostel living (orphanages are called hostels in India).  The home was started by a pastor named Dr. John in the 60's.  Him and his wife are still in charge of and live at the home with the children.  

There are around 300 children that live at Mercy Home.  I am not sure what the boys dorms are like, but for over 100 girls, there is one young woman who cares for all of them.  'Cares for' is obviously a loose term.  Knows their name and counts heads would probably be more accurate.  The children take care of one another.  They don't have a choice.  

But what satan intended for evil, God has used for good.  Dr. John is a man passionate about one thing: Jesus.  Every night the children gather for prayer, worship, and to hear Dr. John preach the gospel.  Most of the children are from Hindu or Muslim families, but since coming to live at Mercy Home, all have heard about the saving blood of Jesus.

One of the nights we were at Mercy Home, Dr. John led the children in worship, our team shared some testimonies, then the children spent time praying to God individually.  The children stood with arms lifted in the air towards God, and prayed with everything they had in them.  I watched in amazement as God's children did what He wishes we all would do-- cry out to Him with the faith that could move a mountain, knowing that He is all we have in this world.  I wish I could describe to you how quickly I felt the Spirit fill that room.  I get goosebumps even thinking about it now.  God was so near.  He was there.  We all knew it.

Our time at Mercy Home was full of several moments like that-- where I sensed just how close God was.  One evening before bedtime, I pulled one little girl in for a hug.  At first she awkwardly hugged me back, then she clung to me.  I was suddenly aware that this is a child who has not been hugged.  I held her close for a minute or two and stroked her hair.  I didn't want to let go either.

I know it is hard to look at photos of children you have never met and have a connection with them.  But let me tell you about this one.  His name is Thirupathi.  He loves to sing praises to God-- about how He is mighty, how His love is perfect, and how He is holy.  He has lived at Mercy Home for the last 2 years.  He is 16 years old, but he looks about 8.  When I first met him, I thought he misunderstood my question when I asked him how old he is.  But another boy, whose English is almost perfect, confirmed that Thirupathi is in fact 16 years old.  He explained his size to me by telling me Thirupathi is from a very poor family in a poor area of India.  As if that explained everything.  I looked him in the eye and told him he was strong in the Lord.  






It may require more than just a glance, but the Kingdom of God is coming to Mercy Home.  His name is being proclaimed there, and children without fathers are calling Him Father.  God is moving.

God is moving in India: CFA.

In an attempt to share with you about my trip, I want to go through each of the ministry sites Back2Back is working with to tell you what God is doing in India.  He's doing so much, and He's using Back2Back to do just a small part of it.  But for that small part, I am so thankful.  I believe God delights in using the little people to change the world.  It's why He chose the shepherd boy David to become a great king, the weak Gideon to become a mighty warrior, and the audacious Peter to become a rock for the faith.  Because it's never really about us.  It's about God, and the story He's writing.  So here's the part of His story that He's letting me play a part in.

Christ For All (CFA) is a feeding center that provides schooling, biblical teaching, and a hot meal to slum children in a particularly poor area of Hyderabad.  Most days the feeding center feeds around 100 children a hearty meal (most of whom this is the only meal they receive for the day), but in all they serve around 300 children.  The slums are home to trash pickers.  These are the lowest class in the caste system, and most spend their whole lives in the slums.  A trash picker can sort trash for an entire day and make the equivalent of around $5.  They've created a sort of neighborhood all around the dump, with homes and a little path that weaves throughout.  There is one abandoned building that serves as a restroom for the entire slum area, which I am fairly certain does not have running water most days.  Babies walk around pantless and without diapers.  Children run through the dump without shoes on.  Goats, pigs, and chickens roam free picking through the same trash as the people.  I was struck by the irony that both animals and humans are simply trying to survive.  I watched the movie Slumdog Millionaire on the way home from India and was struck by how clean they made the slums look in comparison to what they are really like.  I guess Hollywood didn't think we could handle the truth.

As we walked through the dirt path that wove through the "houses" I found it difficult to look the people in the eye.  I didn't want them to feel ashamed of the way they lived or how they looked.  I was suddenly keenly aware that the only reason I had shoes on my feet was because I happened to have been born where I was.  Why wasn't I born here, Lord?  What would I have been like?  What is your plan for them?  

These people are forgotten by society.  Most people don't look when they drive by, the government pretends they aren't there, and they don't get many visitors.  As I was avoiding eye contact, I began to wonder if I was doing the same thing.  Because looking them in the eye meant that they really did exist.  That they were people, and not just numbers.  

So I looked them in the eye.  I even tried smiling at them.  I wanted to give their dignity back to them anyway that I could.  They are real people-- just like me.  It just so happens that they were born where they were, and I was born where I was. 

Most of the people living in the slums are Hindus.  Kennedy, the man who began and runs CFA with his wife Goldie and two young daughters, goes to the slums every day and preaches the gospel.  There is some hostility towards him, but most people respect him and what he does for the community.  Goldie teaches at the school for the children to attend, and after school they stay for a biblical teaching and a hot meal.  After dinner, all the children wander back into the streets, and venture home.  Some are as young as 2.  From what I could see, no parents were around to pick up their child and take them home.  The children were on their own.  I couldn't help but wonder what the slums were like when the sun goes down.  

But for those few hours every day, the children are hearing about the God who created the universe.  They are getting a nutritious meal.  They are getting loved on and hugged by people who they know they can trust.  There's a very bright light shining in that dark place.  God is moving.


Click here to see the children singing!

sleepless in cincinnati.

Well, here I am again.  Back on my own side of the world, and despite having traveled around 30 hours and getting little sleep the past 2 days, I can't seem to turn my mind off from everything I experienced while in India.  

The same question I was asking myself before I left for India is the one I continue to ask myself-- Why?  Why did God send me there?  The whole way to India, all I could do was guess as to the reason.  Now that the trip is over, the pressure is on to have some answers.  Reflecting back on the journey, it's not so much that I can't think of a reason why He sent me, but rather it's hard to put into words all the reasons.  God did so much in my time there, and I know much of what happened deserves further processing.  But again, here I lie, awake when the world around me sleeps, and real time updates sometimes trump pretty words. 

He opened my eyes to a world I never knew existed.  To a beautiful people whose culture is so rich and graceful.  He allowed me to meet hundreds of children who live in conditions we would consider unlivable, children who don't own shoes, don't get enough to eat, and are completely forgotten by the world.  He opened my eyes to the things that are happening in India spiritually, that cannot be seen with the human eye, but must be revealed by God.  He helped me understand the gifts He has given me to see these things.  He equipped me to use them for His glory.  He showed me the unity we have as Christians, with people we have never known, and the ones we know so well.  He pressed upon my heart to encourage the staff in India.  To encourage them (and myself) to push on in faith and to remind them that we are not working for this life, but rather for the next.  God sees it-- He sees it all.  Pleasing Him is our only goal.

Each of these lessons has more than one story to give explanation.  I hope to share them all with you, but for tonight, this is enough.

As I came home tonight, I breathed clean fresh air, arrived to a spotless house, brushed my teeth with water from a faucet, used an actual facility to go to the restroom, opened a pantry full of food to put more food in, and lay down to sleep in a comfortable bed.  But at every step, I thought of Thirupathi.  And Swathi.  And Pavithra.  And Shireesha.  And Manoj.  My heart longs to be back with them.  To be the one to love and care for them.  I'm needing God to remind me of my calling in Cincinnati.  Inevitably, I believe He will.  For now, He has me here.  And I will walk with Him wherever He leads.  But it can be hard coming home.  Leaving your heart in another place never gets easier.

sleepless in india.

It's 4 a.m. in India and I've been awake for almost 4 hours.  India is on the other side of the world, and my body isn't quite convinced it's night-time.  For the first few hours I was awake I prayed that God would make my body fall back asleep.  Eventually I heard from Him, and feel He kept me awake for a reason.  I've been praying for the children, for the team, and for the ministry here ever since.  Hopefully tomorrow afternoon I feel as thankful for this time as I do now :)

I'm not sure what I expected in coming here.  People try to prepare you by telling you about extreme poverty and cultural differences.  I suppose these preparations helped as much as words can, but nothing quite compares to experiencing things for yourself.  I don't know if you're like me, but it takes seeing things for them to become real to me (you can imagine what a struggle faith has been for me at times!).  I haven't had the chance to process much of what I've seen, but I figure real time updates are more important than pretty words sometimes.

The poor in India live on the side of busy roads.  They have little tents they've made, or shanty-type houses.  They don't have real walls, windows, roofs, or doors.  But there are whole communities of people living everywhere.  Naked babies will walk alone on the side of the road.  Children dig through trash right in the open.  No one looks twice.  I've found it hard to look away.  

In addition to the poverty right next to the road, people drive crazy.  Over half the drivers are on little mopeds that they use to swerve in and out of traffic.  It's been raining here, which is unusual, and has caused problems with the roads (they're mostly all made of dirt).  Today (or would that be yesterday?) I saw an elderly woman vomit from a window of a bus, onto a guy riding a moped.  I guess some people never get used to the stop-and-go traffic.

The culture is unlike anything I've ever experienced.  Women all wear long skirts, they don't drive, and are very quiet.  There is such respect for elders and authority.  We had a staff meeting, and afterwards I wondered if I spoke up too much, giving my suggestions and input on the topics at hand.  I'm not used to being quiet.  It's made me think about what it means to have a gentle and quiet spirit.

Men that are friends hold hands.  They're very affectionate.

The children are so well behaved.  And yet, they still love to play.  They call me sister, and their English isn't bad (what a relief, since I cannot say even "hello" in Telegu).

I think the most incredible thing that I've experienced so far has been meeting Indian Christians.  We've been able to talk about how we are living for the next life and not this one.  I cannot explain to you what it is like to find someone who grew up half a world away, in a culture that can be difficult to understand, speaks a language of which I do not know one word, and yet know that we are one in Christ.  There is one Spirit and He is living inside each of us.  There is nothing sweeter than to meet a brother or sister.  

Finally, I ate banana potato chips from a street vendor.  I saw a monkey on a gate on the side of a road.  There was a rainbow in the sky amongst the most intense clouds, proving once again that God is always the most beautiful creator wherever you go.

called.

In a staff meeting this week, our boss asked us a question that he wanted us to think about: “Why are you called to the role you are in?”

It’s a question that I don’t think about very often, but I believe it’s one that we need to remember.  I certainly remember being called.  At any moment of the day I would tell you that I am called.  But I don’t often remember why I’m called.

When I was 14, I took my first mission trip with Back2Back.  It was in the early days when Todd and Beth rented a house in the city and they packed 20 junior high kids in the two small rooms of their first floor.   I don’t remember all the details of that trip, but there are some things I will never forget. 

I remember the sense of urgency I had to go when I first heard the trip was being offered.  I remember buying one of those little throw away cameras for every day I would be there (and using all of them).  I remember barely sleeping the night before I left, and what I picked out to wear to the airport.  I’m not even sure why I was so passionate to go.  Never before had I given thought to abandoned children living in another country.  But I remember needing to go.  I needed to meet them. 

I remember arriving at Casa Hogar Douglas the first day we arrived and seeing Karla for the first time.  She was 3 years old and wore a matching red sweater/pantsuit outfit.  Come to think of it, that was all she wore that week.  Her face had lunch on it still and I saw lice for the first time crawling through her hair.  Every time she saw me she held her hands up for me to hold her and never wanted me to put her down.  She never actually cried, but her big dark eyes were so sad.  I held her close as much as I could, and when it was time to leave at the end of the week, I cried like the child that I was.

The night I returned home I remember sitting in my bed telling my dad about Karla as tears rolled down my cheeks and my heart ached.  I wanted to go back immediately.  Nothing else seemed to matter.

So I joined another church’s youth group, worked for my dad, and raised money to go back a few months later.  When I arrived at Douglas that first day, Karla wasn’t there.  At some point in the previous 6 months her mom had come back to get her.  As happy as I should have been for her, I was devastated at the thought of never seeing her again, and never having the chance to tell her how much I loved her.

Karla was the first of many to break my heart.  I could tell story after story and give you lists of names of the children God has broken my heart with over the last 15 years.  But every morning when I get to work, I look at a picture of Karla.  Attached to it is a note Todd wrote me when he gave the picture to me.  “Tallie, you have a great servant heart.  Don’t forget it.  Mr. G”

I know why God called me.  Hundreds of sponsors that I work with every day are desperate to stay in touch with a child they love, just like I was.  I get to help them continue to pour into one child’s life, and see the impact that it has on the children we serve.  That’s why I love every day I get to come to work.  That’s why God called me. 

true Living's a lot like dying.

I have a vivid memory from a few years ago of something the Lord spoke to me.  I was crying out to Him, begging Him to use me, telling Him I would do anything He wanted-- My only desire was to give Him glory.  He said something that surprised me and pretty much confirmed it was His voice, and not my own.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "You have never really sacrificed anything for Me."

I was stunned.  I quickly stopped praying and let His words penetrate my soul.  It stung-- but not in a cruel way.  I knew He was right.

If I'm honest, up until a few years ago, I didn't know what it meant to die to myself.  I had heard the phrase, but never knew it as true.  Sure, I had read Scripture that said "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me"-- But those just sounded like pretty words.  Symbolism at best.  I thought it meant knowing that Jesus died on the cross for my sins.  I didn't know it meant I would actually have to die-- That God would require I lay down my life for Him.  (After all, He did it for me.)

I look back on that day the Lord spoke to me and realize He was preparing me.  He's since asked me to sacrifice a lot-- Most of which were not easy to lay down.  A few He had to pry from my tight grip while I stomped my foot and cried about how unfair it seemed.  I've laid down relationships, the vision I had for my life, money, the need to be right, family, comfort, the desire to be liked.  In every corner of my self-seeking heart, God has asked me to change.  In place of my selfish ambition, He's taught me humility and made me a servant.  He's shown me how real love actually has very little to do with me and my selfish desires.  He's taught me how to speak the truth, even when it's hard.  He's shown me that true life is lived building His Kingdom, and not my own.

And it's felt like dying every step of the way.  

But there's good news. (Praise the Lord, right?!)  God doesn't leave us in death.  Do you know what happens when you submit to God and die to yourself?  He allows you to live the life He would be living if He were here in the flesh.  (Which happens to be infinitely better than any life you would live for yourself.)  Even better than that-- You have the opportunity to know Him.  You get to know His personality.  (He has one, in case you were wondering.)  He tells you about Himself-- The things He likes and dislikes, the things He's thinking, the things He's doing.  He makes His home in you.  He stays with you-- even when no one else will.  It's called fellowship, and it's the very best thing in the whole world.  It's worth dying for in every way.  Even if it were only for a moment with Him-- it'd be worth it. 

So I keep dying.  Whenever He asks me to.  Except now I do it a little bit faster-- because I know what it means.  I know that when I do, He'll be there.  In the low places.  In the lonely times.  In the uncomfortable surroundings.  He draws so near that I can close my eyes and see Him right in front of me-- gazing back at me.  Me, of all people, and the God of the universe.  Incredible.

He's worth dying for.  He's worth it all.  And then some.  (And then a lot more.)


"If you cling to your life, you will lose it, and if you let your life go, you will save it."  Luke 17:33

kind of a big deal.

There is a ministry called Casa Viva that began working in Costa Rica in 2005.  Their goal was to change the way the country cared for orphans.  At that time, Costa Rica functioned similarly to the way Mexico currently works in regards to abandoned children.  Children whose parents are unable to care for them usually end up on the street or in an orphanage.  Casa Viva went to Costa Rica with the goal of placing children in families, rather than in institutions.  They do this by using the social network of Christian churches to identify and train families to bring abandoned children into their families.  In 8 short years, Casa Viva has closed almost all of the orphanages in Costa Rica.  Their model doesn’t rely on ongoing American funding and is nationally based-- making it a sustainable success.

Let me repeat that.  In 8 years, Casa Viva has closed almost all of the orphanages in Costa Rica. 

That is incredible.  Back2Back is hoping to learn from their model, and implement some of the same systems in Mexico.  As a ministry we have been meeting and talking with Casa Viva to learn how we can do this. 

The first step has been to educate and engage the local church in Mexico.  For the next two days Back2Back is hosting a Summit of the Orphan in Monterrey for church leaders from all over Mexico.  Our goal is to educate local Mexican churches on the orphan crisis occurring in their country, and to invite them to be part of the solution.  Currently we have over 350 people expected to come, and keynote speakers include Jedd Medefind, the president of the Christian Alliance for Orphans, Steve Biondo, Vice President for Family Christian Bookstores, Marlene LeFever, author of the Children at Risk curriculum, Rob Mitchell, author of Castaway Kid, and Philip Aspegren, Executive Director of Casa Viva Costa Rica.  As a staff, we have been crying out to God in prayer to use this event by placing a burden on the hearts of Christians to get involved in the orphan crisis. 

Another barrier we have come up against is that currently Mexico does not have a foster care system in place.  The only option for abandoned children is an institution.  Back2Back has been meeting with national officials to try and change this.  Just last month, the Back2Back campus homes became the first official houses in Mexico to legally take in children as a form of foster care.  Incredible!

God is faithful to keep His promises.  Sometimes it is difficult for us to understand God’s faithfulness because we tend to be so unfaithful by nature.  Scripture even says “if we are unfaithful, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny who He is” (2 Timothy 2:13). 

Today I am claiming God’s promise to place the lonely in families (Psalm 68:6).  It’s an exciting week for Back2Back and the entire country of Mexico.  Not everyone hopes to work themselves out of a job, but that is exactly what we are working to do.