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.