A 10ft x 6ft room in the middle of a slum. Sheets of tin nailed to sticks for the 4 walls. A tarp with massive holes for a roof. A cement slab for the floor covered with mats. A single light bulb strung from a neighbor’s electricity for a source of light. The sound of random pigs walking around outside and bumping up against the tin walls. 7 Americans and about 15 Indians sitting on the hard, dirty floor. English and Hindi sung and spoken.
This is my church on Sunday evenings.
We make our way by bus to a nearby neighborhood then trek out to a slum. People look at us like we’re from a different planet, but once we make it to our destination it feels so natural. We sing in English, they sing in Hindi, but we worship the same God. We give messages, encouraging words, and testimonies of how good our God is. Then we pray for people. All of this is done in the 10ft x 6ft room/house. Following prayer, we go to someone’s house to eat cookies and drink chai. It’s a perfect way to spend a few hours on a Sunday night.
Half of the time I sit in shock at the realization of life right now and awe at who God is, what He’s doing in me and everybody else, and how he’s choosing to use us. Many times I just sit back to observe my reality and try to grasp it all. Last night, I found myself going back and forth between peering through the holes in the tarp at the stars that were shining so brightly and witnessing the beautiful picture of all of us sitting in this room made out of tin, tarp, and sticks. I was in my own little world thinking about the perfection of these nights. I tried to take it all in.
In those moments I can’t hold back the thankfulness or stop the tears from welling up because that’s exactly what Jesus would do and where He’d be. He’d sit in the middle of a slum in a tiny room with that community. I absolutely treasure these times of doing life with these people like Jesus would do. I feel so blessed to have this opportunity.
