Purple. Orange. Yellow. Blue.
Women in beautiful sarees dot the green fields that we are driving through.
We are on a bus, headed for rural India. We drive past mountains and open fields, but suddenly, out of nowhere, a city pops up.
We get off the bus and are immediately surrounded. Six sweaty, American girls with packs the size of small children on the side of the road. People are curious. I couldn't say that I blame them.
We hop on small, yellow golf-cart-esque machines called tuk-tuks and head to the church. We pull up in front of a small, concrete, unfinished building. They allow us to keep our things in the one bedroom that is already crowded with the pastor, his wife, and his fourteen year old son.
The large, empty, unfinished room on the right side of the house is the church. We are welcome to tent there, but it is hot. No breeze and no fans. Not a fun combination in this heat. They show us upstairs, to the roof. One day, it will be another level of the house– open to the poor and needy. But for now, it is simpy a roof split into rooms– with concrete pillars and rebar at every turn. We are welcome to tent up here as well– the breeze should be nice. Just be aware that it IS monsoon season… and they do have a monkey problem.
I take my chances upstairs, only to rush downstairs into the sweltering heat in the middle of the night when it starts to rain. I learned in month 2 that my tent can't handle water.
We head off the next afternoon to an even more rural village. I listen to worship music on the way out, trying to prepare myself for the unknown that lies ahead. I spend my time looking out the window at the beautiful scenery and the beautiful people that we pass. I think about our cultural briefing the morning before. How the people here are so religious, so spiritual. But out of fear, not out of love. They believe in a god or gods that are pleased with them based on performance. That they must do a certain thing, wear a certain thing, or act a certain way in order to please those that they serve.
And my heart breaks.
I want them to know MY God. A God who is loving above all else. A God who cares enough to know everything about us and to have a plan specifically for our lives. A God who is strong and powerful and mighty to save. A God who isn't concerned with what we have done or will do, but is only concerned with what He has already done to save us. He knew that we could never be holy on our own, so He sent His perfect Son to die in our place and become our holiness.
And this month, we are here to tell them.
