This story occured a couple weeks ago…actually on my birthday (March 5th) while we working with an ICM church planter. There have been a couple world race teams who have started working with James and India Christian MIssions. ICM is the umbrella organization for a number of ministries. They’ve been working to saturate Andreh Pradesh for awhile now and have evidently held revival meetings in every small village in the entire region which is quite impressive. They’ve built a number of churches, homes for orphans and train a large number of pastors. James is a visionary who has huge dreams for bringing the kingdom of heaven to India. If you want more info, send me an email. Also, we’ll be trekking in the Himalayas (Annapurna) for the next 4 weeks so it might take me some time to get back to you. I do plan on sharing more of the stories of our trip and will when I return home, but thought I’d give you a little taste of a few days…

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It had been another hot muggy night and I woke up thankful for the fans above us in the church that we were sleeping at. We were expecting really poor conditions in some remote jungle but mostly we were staying in a small village and traveling to further villages everyday for ministry. Each day consisted of preaching and teaching of some sort in at least one village followed by prayer. Sometimes we’d pray over 50 and sometimes closer to 200…I never really stopped to count how many people but I was once again reminded of how draining and refreshing at the same time it can be to truly engage your heart and pray for people one after the other. It takes stamina. You have to be in shape…that sounds wierd, but it reminded us of how important it was for Jesus to take his time up the mountain with His father everyday before getting “pressed in” by the crowds.

This day in particular, we had a morning off. In all honesty, the guys had gotten sick the night before from overeating. I’m not even exaggerating when I say that I gained between 3 and 4 inches on my waist and probably 15 pounds give or take 5. We had three meals a day with snacks intermittently. I ate more in the average meal than I did for thanksgiving last year. I wish I was joking but I’m not. I understand that it was their way of honoring and blessing us but the blessing was hard for us to take at times. Regardless, it got to a place where we were literally sick so we were given a morning to digest.

In the evening we hopped into our auto rickshaw and headed out for a new village. These auto rickshaws would fit 2 Americans in the states and maybe a 3rd…We had 13 adults on one in at least one of our rides…Haha, anyway, we took off and the weather was perfect. Most of my body was already out of the rickshaw so I took some time to just look up at the stars. They reminded me of home where the night sky fills up with them. I searched for constellations I knew and thought of how big God was. I pondered life and the things God was changing in me. I thought of being in Haiti a year ago at this time and how I missed my birthday the year before by flying west over the international date line. I let my hair and my beard blow in the wind…

There is an ease that usually comes over me in small villages in remote areas of the world. There is something inside of me that strangely feels like I belong in a place like that and yet the upheavel of Him working on me was definitely somewhere in my heart. If you read my last couple blogs, you will know that He’s been refining some things in me and I’ve been refacing some crap that’s been lodged somewhere deep inside of me. This was a day full of emotions but I was looking forward to being in a tribal village on my birthday.

We cruised further and further away from cities and lights and through thickets of deep brush and tall grasses. It wasn’t hard to picture tigers pouncing out at any time and part of me wished it would happen. Being a male, I let my mind wander and think about how I would react if a tiger rushed the vehicle through that thicket…or around that bend…There was an excitement in me that I was living this adventure called life with the good and bad, easy and hard instead of just reading about it or watching a documentary on it. I was thankful for the opportunity to be in India and even more to be able to go to a tribal village where people like me just don’t get opportunities to be..

About 45 minutes passed as we slowly made our way up a dirt path to a village tucked away near some mountains. The air was clean and a soft warm breeze was meandering with no particular place to go. People watched intrigued as we passed by but somewhat indifferent. There wasn’t an obsessive stare or questioning, or dislike or even a wow like we were some rock stars. We’ve had all of those stares but it was different here.

This was a tribal village which means it doesn’t quite fall into any of the castes that India’s culture has put on the masses. The caste system is pretty significant here and has enslaved people in a number of ways for a looong time. It stands as a huge barrier and I look forward to the day it dissolves. Regardless, these people are of a certain tribe and live in community better than most castes in India and most groups in America. However, in this particular village there was an overwhelming spirit…sadness.

Sadness was everywhere. The four of us felt it instantly when we were there. We never found out why it was there or how it got there but you could just see it in the faces of almost everyone there. Even as we walked through and said our hello’s and prayed for those who were sick, we saw sadness. As we stumbled through preaching and teaching (this was the biggest struggle of a village for any of us to talk in) we saw sadness…until…

~to be continued