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He was curled up on the concrete ground next to the dumpster when Raja found him.  His clothes were ragged, and he wore no shoes.  Flies clustered around an open sore on his knee.  He was rambling to himself incoherently with his eyes closed.   

Raja knelt beside him and whispered a few words of concern.  Then, he gently lifted him into his arms and carried him back to his rickshaw.  They were headed home.  To the Home of Hope.  

 
Established a decade ago, the Home of Hope is exactly that.  It is a rehabilitation center for:

the orphaned, the diseased, and the desolate,
who are homeless but too weak to even beg,
who are defeated by neglect, 
whose only hope is transformation by the grace of the Lord. 

Anyone is welcome, though most residents are found and transported to the facility by Raja himself as he combs the streets of Bengaluru – not unlike the Luke 15 shepherd, who scours the countryside looking for his lost sheep and rejoices when one is found.
 
 
 


Raja serves as the director of Home of Hope, and he has only a handful of full-time staff.  There are currently almost 300 residents, ranging from two months to 80 years old.  They sleep in hospital cots in dorm style rooms.  But they spend most of their time outside in the spacious courtyards.  That is where we found them this morning, enjoying the sunshine and cool breeze.
 

 


A few bold ladies approached us and eagerly requested to have their photos taken.  Others shrunk back from us.  And still others were oblivious to our presence altogether.  The men, women, and children suffer from physical ailments and mental illness.  And spiritual oppression, no doubt.  

    

 
We helped deliver plates of rice and curry to the residents, blessing the food to their bodies and praying for opportunities to provide spiritual nourishment too as we did so.  As they finished eating, we sat beside clusters of people, trying to love on them. I held hands and rubbed backs.  

I smiled and bobbed my head as women talked to me in their local language as if I understood.  
I shed tears as I clapped my hands and sang songs with them.  
And most of all, I prayed.  
I praised God for his compassion.  
I pleaded with him for His healing power to be released.  
I thanked Him for exposing me to the harsh realities of suffering and allowed Him to tenderize my heart.  

 
 
Did God bring me here so that I could minister to them?

Or did God bring me here so that they could minister to me?

I hope that your heart is also being tenderized right now. These are people, precious and beloved by God.  We may not know their histories – What could have brought them to this point?  Where are their families?! – but we can rest assured that God knows everything about them, and He has a beautiful plan for their future, the promise of eternity with Him if they seek His face and trust Him to provide for them.  

 
 
God bless Raja for doing his part in bringing the Kingdom to earth.  Here at the Home of Hope, every individual is cared for and treated with dignity.


Visit the New Ark Mission of India website (www.newarkmission.org) to read more stories, see more pictures, watch the video, and donate money to support the vision.  

Written by Vicki Skyvalidas and God bless my teammate Angi Francesco, photographer extraordinaire.  Sometimes I feel like she’s like my own personal paparazzi, always sneaking around documenting and capturing special moments on film for us!