If you had asked me about India prior to this month, chances are good I would’ve told you how much I was dreading it or that I filled out my visa application wrong so I wouldn’t have to go. (I didn’t actually do that, I’ve had my visa for a few months… I’m just dramatic)
It’s not my fault. Disclaimer: I’m not that tough. I enjoy conveniences and comforts, and I’ve heard the horror stories; no electricity, mosquitos galore, outrageous heat, even more outrageous smells, way-too-spicy curry, numerous trips to the bathroom due to said curry, etc etc. All this time I’ve been thinking about how awful India was going to be. Somehow, it slipped my mind that my life isn’t about me, or my comforts. I started praying some time in Viet Nam that God would just change my heart, because let’s be real, no matter where you’re going, if you’re dreading it before you even get there, it isn’t gonna be fun.
By the end of Viet Nam, I was weirded out by my excitement to head to India. But, I ran with it. We got the set up this past month, living in Hyderabad with bedrooms and cots and I wasn’t even that hot (it was 93 on average, so you can imagine my extreme reaction to the 45 degrees I’m solidifying in as I type this.)
This month we had the awesome opportunity to hang out in the slums, lead youth groups on rooftops, drink all the chai, and gain new brothers in the guys we worked with.
As I mentioned in my previous blog, I have been praying that The Lord would change my heart and grow compassion in me for these people I was crossing paths with. You see, prior to this month, I was grossed out by the idea of sitting down in a slum and inhaling the stink of the dump surrounding me. I didn’t mean to be grossed out by it, I just don’t love being exposed to dirt (who does?)
We returned to the same slums where I had the honor of naming a baby girl, and I found myself not giving sitting in the rubbish and inviting pee soaked kids to climb all over me a second thought. I played approximately 76 hand clapping games before little Gulinga crawled into my lap and snuggled with me. I sat there holding her, looking around at the beautiful people all around me.
My mind turned to the injustices of this world. Why, why, why do these people get this life, and I get mine? Why are there people in parts of the world with 4 bedroom houses, a car per person, food that we throw out when it spoils in our fridges, and thats just the beginning. I started crying. Like, tears streaming down my face, had to get up and walk away crying. My heart felt squeezed, and my mind was bewildered at this.
I prayed that night, thanking God for giving me His heart for the people He created, just as I had requested of Him. I praised Him for His goodness and for His sovereignty. I thought on how great it will be when Jesus returns, and on how that day justice will be served. I also felt like I had been slapped in the face with the reality of the purpose of my life. I am not here to get all the degrees, lead a successful career, or even have a family. While my life might entail these things, and I won’t be upset if they do, I am beginning to realize that I am here to tell everyone about Jesus and all the things He grants- freedom, justice, love, grace, mercy, eternal life. He died for every person on this planet. Every. Single. One. And they all need to know it! How can I possibly focus all my attention on the mundane, expected, and societally common things that we have made life about, while simultaneously allowing Jesus’ painful death on a cross to go to waste?! I mean, dang. This is real.
I tried really hard to love India but it just wouldn’t happen. I did however, love deeply the people who populate it, only through God’s ability and power. I am so thankful for this month. I am thankful for the people God placed me on a team with, the ministry He placed us with, and the things He taught me.
