(This blog was written at the beginning of this month…sorry it’s taken so long to post…also, sorry I’m not sorry that it’s so long.)
My ears ring painfully and my head pounds as the honking refuses to cease. The constant, obnoxious blows of the horns from every vehicle are overwhelming and irritating in the worst ways possible. My spirit is beaten down, way down, and I’ve already decided how I feel about this country and it’s not good. If first impressions are everything, then this one is bleak. I sit on the city bus as I try to hold on to the last bit of sanity I have. Squished like sardines in a tin can too small to hold all of us, I stare in front of me as I let the music drown out the chaos surrounding me. I’m in Calcutta, India and it’s nowhere I’d recommend for you to go…ever.
The last four days of travel had definitely taken their toll at this point and I was weak & in a very low place.
Four days earlier I sat at a train station waiting on a train that would take me all across India. A train that was 30 hours long, might I add. The night before we flew into Hyderabad and didn’t make it to our hostel until around 4 am. After a two hour nap I was up and heading to the station. When I got to the train station I sat, ready to get on the train & take it easy, maybe sleep…but then I looked up.
Upon entering India, I had read about the gendercide but no statistic can prepare a person for what your eyes see when you’re sitting at a train station overwhelmed by the sea of men in front of you, purposely staring, and most of the few women you do see are covered from head to toe, literally, in all black with only a slit for their eyes so they can see. I can’t even explain the emotions I was feeling. Maybe some of it was anger, disgust, mostly rage. I was praying but the sick feeling in my stomach wouldn’t leave.
I stared out at the section in front of me…one, two, three, four….four women. 66 men…
My heart broke & I was angry.
As I sat, waiting on that 30 hour train to pull up, I automatically felt my defenses rise and work their way to the surface. Yep, the same defenses & walls that I thought God & I were knocking down were resurfacing. I prayed and rebuked them but nothing was working. I felt them continue to rise. All I could do was cry out for Jesus. All I could do was say His name. I didn’t know what else to do, I had never felt so weak in my life.
The next couple days were a mashed blur of uneventful hours and now I sit on this bus, exhausted, unhappy to be in India, wishing to be anywhere else, feeling completely insecure and uncertain for what this month is going to be like. I was holding onto Jesus but my future wasn’t looking very bright, I thought. And yet again, instead of really trusting in His goodness, His goodness that He’s proven to me over and over and over again, I gave into how my flesh was telling me to feel and sat, defeated, on this dang bus.
After about an hour and a half on this bus we were pushed off onto the side of an extremely busy road in the middle of Calcutta. I stood and listened as our contact ushered us towards a truck where he informed us all of our belongings would go into. At this point I had no idea if anyone would be riding with our belongings and quite frankly, I didn’t care. Turns out a few of the boys and Tayo rode with our belongings. We watched as the truck, covered by a mountain of packs, drove away. We were then quickly told to cross the street, ha..okay. Well, we made it across, thankfully, not shy of multiple horns and loud accusations that I couldn’t understand, but we made it. I looked up and in front of me sat five of the coolest looking taxis I’d seen ever. Even in my sour mood, these amused me. I felt like I had time traveled back into the fifties and I felt a smirk glide across my face for just a moment. We were split into groups and I climbed into the middle backseat in between Amie and Megan, excited for the ride, but unwilling to admit it. The ride was quiet, besides the honking horns, for a few minutes. I don’t remember how it happened now but Amie suggested we play the glad game-she knew how rough the last few days had been for me and for all of us-and suggested that we play this game where you say all of the things you’re glad for. To my surprise, I really wanted to play-I was tired of being grumpy & even though I didn’t feel like I had much to bring to the table I was still eager to play. After about ten minutes I was laughing & so thankful Amie had suggested this game, she’s definitely a great team leader. I, surprisingly, had a lot to be glad about-I was breathing, I was off the train, nothing had been stolen from me, I had found a coke to cure my headache, it just kept going-some we’re silly, others serious, but my perspective automatically shifted
I sank further into the seat with a faint smile splashed across my face and just before I decided to close my eyes the fifties style taxi pulled into a gated area. I knew we had made it to our destination for the night only because I could see the mountain of bags over all of the taxis
As I stepped out I was greeted by an older white haired Indian man who was full of joy and more than happy to show us our rooms for the night
My mood was slowly changing as the travel days were drawing to a close, only ONE left. After introductions were finished, Dr. Dey showed us our rooms and we settled in for the night. After a warm shower, a decent meal, a soft pillow, and a random song-off/dance party between me and the girls on my team, the clouds in my head began to clear & the revelations started to come. Oh, did they come. Like a good father does, I was sat down and sternly but lovingly spoken to by my father in heaven about my attitude towards His people.
“Practice what you preach, Hannah. See these people through my eyes, not your own. Do not judge them for the acts of injustice that the sin of this world has trapped them in. You have the light, you have me, which is why I chose you to come here. I know your obedience, I know your heart, and I know it’s not full of the resent that you’ve been feeling in the past few days. Don’t direct your anger at the people-direct it at the one who’s wrecking havoc. Direct it at me, even. Direct your love at the people, the love that I gave you-pour it on them how I’ve poured it on you. That’s why you’re here.”
In that moment, I laid there in bed, disappointed with myself at how I so easily let my flesh have the win over the last few days. After six months on the race you would think I had learned something about taking my thoughts captive and giving my hurts and the injustices of this world to the only one who can bear them fully. And not only give them to Him but believe that He can handle them. Clearly, in the moments of my stubbornness, I forgot who my God is and how He loves and who He died for. Again, I was reminded of who He is and who I am not.
Everyday is a choice-The Lord breathes life into us and gently wakes us up every single morning and it is in those few quiet moments before the noise of the world floods our day that we have to choose. We have to choose Jesus or we have to choose the world. Living this life for Jesus is not a one time choice that we make when we first get saved. It is an everyday, moment by moment choice that we are constantly making. Life throws things and circumstances and satan throws moments our way that challenge us, that beckon us to choose Jesus and react with love and grace or to choose the world and to act in resent and arrogance. When we are not prepared for the trials of this life, we stumble. Thank god, He doesn’t leave us in the fall but he allows us to react in these situations and is either pleased that we’ve held strong to his name or, in my case, sits his children down in a gracious and loving but stern manner and teaches us vital lessons to do better next time.
But what if there is no next time? What if I would’ve died in the midst of my arrogance and resent towards the people because of the injustices that are tied to them through history? What then? Is that worth it to die thinking and feeling like the world does when I personally know and love the Savior that came and bore MY SIN to save me from this world of hate? The answer is no, it’s not worth it.
Friends, I challenge you to learn from my mistakes. Find this to be an encouragement to you. Wake up every morning thanking God for a new day to choose Him and choose love. Ask God to allow you into his presence and to change your heart to love the people of this world no matter what-die to yourself daily-put aside your selfishness and pick up your cross. Allow Jesus to teach you in the moments when you fail and stand firm in the trials that this world will throw at you-it doesn’t get easier but it’s all more than worth it in the end…
