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