It seems as though I often find myself saying this to myself. Here I am in beautiful, colorful, historical, spiritual India and yet as of right this moment, I just want to go to the place where my feet will be standing for the next period of time. Nothing is ever definite in my life. No place is ever permanent. Familiar faces are never lastingly remaining. In the past 5 years I haven’t lived in one location for more than 4 months (minus my year in Hawaii where I still traveled every few months). I lived in 10 different rooms, not to mention all the floors I have crashed on. I’ve lived in Los Angeles, on a small island, in India and traversed across the globe. My heart was deeply broken in the City of Angels only to be repaired and filled anew by the grace of God in Hawaii where I truly learned how to love. India has made me grow up.
The only consistent thing in my life is God. In the past few days God has really been allowing me to fall deeper in love with him. I’m realizing that there isn’t really any place, or people I belong with, except for with God. I say that a lot in my life, but there has been deeper meaning lately. I was reading poems by Rabindrath Tagore the other day while sitting in the oven of a auto rickshaw (because it is so hot, it literally feels like I am looking in an oven as I drive through town and hot air blows in my face) on my way to a coffee shop to do homework. They were all love poems, and I can’t really say that there is any guy I could dream about to go along with these love poems. But these poems about love somehow drew me closer to God, allowing me to fall deeper in love with him.
God is so good. Although I am in between so many worlds, I am in God’s world, and it is the only place to be.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
beautiful creation
Today instead of celebrating with Razia the birth of her new baby, Rita, Elsie and I comforted her as she lay in the corner of her cement house. On a blanket with her head rested on some wadded up clothes as a pillow she lay crying. As the tears rolled down her cheek she told us that her husband told her to leave or he will leave. He threatens to throw the baby out. She fears what her life will look like. When will it be that he returns home? He didn’t even look at the child after she gave birth, all because she gave birth to a girl. What God intended to be a glorious and celebratory moment, Satan has turned to misery, grief, and pain. Carrying a baby for 9 months, going through the agony of child labor all to be rejected by her husband.
A system of evil entwined in such a beautiful culture. The prize of a boy child and the burden of a girl child is still the reality that families across India face. The birth of a girl means debt, a dowry fee that needs to be paid for the girl to one day be married off and lost to another family. The birth of a boy means carrying on the family name, someone to care for and provide for the parents once they are old. A boy child brings in money as the girl pays the dowry. He is a blank check.
We comforted Razia, we told her that her daughter is a very special gift from God to her, created uniquely and perfectly. This beautiful little infant is a masterpiece of God’s hand, not a mistake. She is blessed to be able to conceive and give birth to a healthy little girl. We prayed with her and asked God to bless this child, for her husband to see how wonderful this baby girl is.
Oh Lord God, mighty and great king, sovereign over all the earth, we praise you. You are the author and illustrator of all our lives. We know that this baby was not a mistake, how could something so unique and perfect be a mistake. Oh Jesus, transform the hearts of the individuals still believing that girls are not important. Transform their hearts to see the beautiful creation as you have made her. Send your angels to fight against the system of evil that entangles and ensnares so many individuals and blinds them from beauty. Lord Jesus, bless this little girl, protect her as she grows, we commit her into your hands and trust in you. We love you. Amen.
A system of evil entwined in such a beautiful culture. The prize of a boy child and the burden of a girl child is still the reality that families across India face. The birth of a girl means debt, a dowry fee that needs to be paid for the girl to one day be married off and lost to another family. The birth of a boy means carrying on the family name, someone to care for and provide for the parents once they are old. A boy child brings in money as the girl pays the dowry. He is a blank check.
We comforted Razia, we told her that her daughter is a very special gift from God to her, created uniquely and perfectly. This beautiful little infant is a masterpiece of God’s hand, not a mistake. She is blessed to be able to conceive and give birth to a healthy little girl. We prayed with her and asked God to bless this child, for her husband to see how wonderful this baby girl is.
Oh Lord God, mighty and great king, sovereign over all the earth, we praise you. You are the author and illustrator of all our lives. We know that this baby was not a mistake, how could something so unique and perfect be a mistake. Oh Jesus, transform the hearts of the individuals still believing that girls are not important. Transform their hearts to see the beautiful creation as you have made her. Send your angels to fight against the system of evil that entangles and ensnares so many individuals and blinds them from beauty. Lord Jesus, bless this little girl, protect her as she grows, we commit her into your hands and trust in you. We love you. Amen.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
silence.
Some days in India can be too much. Too much pollution. Too much poverty. Too much disparity between the rich and the poor. Too much pain in the eyes you look into as you pass people by in the auto rickshaw. The intensity and hardship that is expressed in a man’s eyes as he carries a heavy load on the back of his wagon bicycle. The desperation in a begging woman’s eyes wearing a sari clumsily wrapped around her body. It looks as though it is her only piece of clothing and she’s been wearing it for years. Religious clashes that have heightened and killed two policemen. Too much begging. Things that money can’t solve. Too many emotions are expressed on the crowded busy streets of Hyderabad. The temperature is too high. Above the hundreds. Sometimes it is too much for my sensitive spirit that wants to heal all people and create a world that lives in harmony.
On another note, I just returned from a week long adventure in Kerala. Kerala is a state on the south western tip of India. It is known as “God’s own country”. It is a tropical climate. Your eyes cannot possibly scan the horizon without seeing a dozen palm trees. Every kind of tropical tasty fruit grows in Kerala. Papaya, Mango, Coconut, at least 5 different kinds of Bananas, bell fruit, passion fruit, you name it, they have it. Although Hughie, Sara and I spent half of each of our first 4 days in Kerala on buses, trains, or boats traveling, it was a relaxing, amazing time. We enjoyed singing along to Hughie playing the guitar of Ukulele as we sped through the jungle on a rusty bus with no glass in its windows. One town we visited was a mountain town full of spice and tea estates. Breathing fresh crisp air was so relaxing to my soul. It was such a good time to get away from the hustle and bustle of crazy Hyderabad and relax in “God’s own country”. I had so much time to evaluate my time here, deeply think about all the things God has taught me in the past 4 months and pray and seek for what my next step after college should be.
As I have been in India I have been reading iGracias! by Henry Nouwen. He has spoke such truth into my life and it is as though he wrote about my exact thoughts years before I ever dreamed of coming to India. Although his experiences were among the poor of Latin America, his writing relates exactly to what I have been experiencing in India. Today I read about his experience visiting the valley of Incas.
“Along the road small groups of Indians guiding cattle carried their loads of wood. These small, dark people with faces carved by nature and hard work evoked in me a sense of the sacred. In their silence, they spoke of centuries of care for the land, of a mysterious intimacy with nature, of an unceasing prayer to the God who has made their land fertile, and of a knowledge that we in our Volkswagen would never be able to grasp. The valley was filled with a holy silence; no advertisements along the roads, no factories or modern houses, no loudspeakers or shouting vendors. …When we came back to Cuzco I felt refreshed, renewed and grateful to the Indian people for this healing gift of silence”.
This sums up my experience of Kumali.
On another note, I just returned from a week long adventure in Kerala. Kerala is a state on the south western tip of India. It is known as “God’s own country”. It is a tropical climate. Your eyes cannot possibly scan the horizon without seeing a dozen palm trees. Every kind of tropical tasty fruit grows in Kerala. Papaya, Mango, Coconut, at least 5 different kinds of Bananas, bell fruit, passion fruit, you name it, they have it. Although Hughie, Sara and I spent half of each of our first 4 days in Kerala on buses, trains, or boats traveling, it was a relaxing, amazing time. We enjoyed singing along to Hughie playing the guitar of Ukulele as we sped through the jungle on a rusty bus with no glass in its windows. One town we visited was a mountain town full of spice and tea estates. Breathing fresh crisp air was so relaxing to my soul. It was such a good time to get away from the hustle and bustle of crazy Hyderabad and relax in “God’s own country”. I had so much time to evaluate my time here, deeply think about all the things God has taught me in the past 4 months and pray and seek for what my next step after college should be.
As I have been in India I have been reading iGracias! by Henry Nouwen. He has spoke such truth into my life and it is as though he wrote about my exact thoughts years before I ever dreamed of coming to India. Although his experiences were among the poor of Latin America, his writing relates exactly to what I have been experiencing in India. Today I read about his experience visiting the valley of Incas.
“Along the road small groups of Indians guiding cattle carried their loads of wood. These small, dark people with faces carved by nature and hard work evoked in me a sense of the sacred. In their silence, they spoke of centuries of care for the land, of a mysterious intimacy with nature, of an unceasing prayer to the God who has made their land fertile, and of a knowledge that we in our Volkswagen would never be able to grasp. The valley was filled with a holy silence; no advertisements along the roads, no factories or modern houses, no loudspeakers or shouting vendors. …When we came back to Cuzco I felt refreshed, renewed and grateful to the Indian people for this healing gift of silence”.
This sums up my experience of Kumali.
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