Friday night village ministry was a challenge for my team.
We have been struggling to sleep as many nights we come home and feel overwhelmed with the darkness experienced in many of the villages. As we left for ministry Friday, the team seemed to be emotionally, spiritually, and physically spent.
Not only were we lacking any energy to pour into ministry, but we discovered we would have to drive about 2 hours in our small auto in rural India. Although I have been surprised by the amount of love I feel for India, these auto rides over bumpy dirt roads (often accompanied by the most “unique” smells) are not something I look forward to on ministry days.
During this auto ride, I thought about advice I was given by other missionaries. On the most unpleasant days, the ones where I would rather not be at ministry, I should press in.
Press in. I was supposed to still be fully present and ready to pour into people even on this exhausted Friday. I was supposed to be ready for what God wanted to do in this village.
During that bumpy auto ride I truly thought it was going to be impossible, but at the end of the night I was able to see what God can do when we make the decision to press in.
The pastor’s wife had just informed us that she invited her family to the church and would arrive in 10 minutes. Having enough experience with Indian time, I figured we would be waiting for at least 25.
We had just finished eating our after church meal at about 11 pm, and everything within me wanted to sit silently or discretely put my headphones in. However, there was a girl sitting to my left who was about 12 years old, and I felt like God was calling me to spend time with her.
I tried asking about her classes or hobbies, but she spoke no English. It was evident that she wanted to share, but we both were frustrated over our language barrier. I didn’t know how God wanted me to communicate with her until I remembered the nail polish I kept in my backpack.
As I pulled out the small teal colored bottle, her eyes lit up. Through a series of nods and hand gestures, she gave me permission to paint her nails. As I was painting, I felt like God was showing her that she is worthwhile and seen. She isn’t overlooked by Him and she wasn’t overlooked by our team.
Within a minute there were about seven more women, some about 40 years old, looking on with excitement. As I finished the first girl’s nails, there was another hand in front of me ready for painting. My teammate Michelle pulled out my second bottle and started coating more nails in blue.
By the time the Pastor’s family arrived at the church, almost every woman had polish on her hand and a smile on her face. Before we left, I gave the teal polish to the first girl I painted nails for. I had our translator explain that she had to use it to paint for other women in the village. She had to continue the love.
Sometimes I feel uneasy about the fact that we visit these villages for just a day and then move, but through our nail polish party I can see that God is simply calling my team to just be present. To be His (nail-painting) hands and feet. The biggest gift we can give any of these villages it to let people know they are seen.
