We were standing outside a mall in Hyderabad, India. It was dark and it smelled pretty funky. It was really late, maybe 1:30 in the morning. We heard a herd of dogs off in the distance and we could vaguely make them out under the streetlights fighting over leftover KFC bags as motorcycles, Tuk Tuks, and cars blazed by. We were in a debacle with taxis that there wasn’t really an easy solution to. We had just celebrated Mardie’s 22nd birthday in style by going to Chiles and watching The Hunger Games Mockingjay part 2.
So here we are standing on a corner. Then sitting on a street corner and standing again. We were all tired and wired and kind of crazy because of so much good food and caffeine and the lateness of the night and the longness of the day. We were waiting on über taxis and talking. There were a few piles of trash around us and a couple of big rocks to sit on. There are big rocks everywhere in Hyderabad.
We were talking pretty loudly and one of the piles moved. There was a person under the bags and newspapers. It was a little boy, maybe 11 years old at the most. Even in my tiredness, I immediately began to compare my 11th year of life to his, how, when I was 11 I was playing Nintendo 64, reading Harry Potter and the chamber of secrets, and going to school in an air conditioned building, drawing pictures, writing stories, building forts with kids in my neighborhood, pretending I had something to fight for, and probably cussing too much.
As a man, this is something I see as something to fight for, with no pretending involved. Hope for this kid. A promise for good things for him. This is one of those moments that causes my forehead to crease and my stomach to sink. I try not to mutter things under my breath much, but I’m a pro at non verbals and seeing someone in a struggle that hurts me too shows up on my face and in my body language as clearly a new outfit and a new pair of shoes. I’ve seen a lot since I left home on this incredible journey, and honest to God most of it hasn’t been an easy sight.
The World Race teaches you so much. You gain an endlessly open and appreciative perspective of this fragile thing called mankind and of all the people made in the image of a loving God that that one word,mankind, compartmentalizes.
You also love God more than ever because you start to see his fingerprints on you and everyone else. What I’ve learned with most people in this broken world, including myself, is that you have to dust for these fingerprints, but when you find them they are freaking beautiful.
After awhile, all that’s foreign becomes familiar. Nothing is weird or surprising, and things become less and less scary and your palms become less sweaty, and the unexpected is expected and and you get a little sunburnt along the way and you just learn to smile and laugh.
Your heart can go numb or your heart can break as you see kids picking through piles of garbage for a bit of food. You can reach out your hand and hand money to someone in need, but that doesn’t really help. You can invite them out for a meal, but that doesn’t solve the issue. (Please do it if God calls you to do it, but deep changes have to happen in that person too.)
I’m not in the position to help someone financially and at times all I can say is “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”when a woman comes up with her baby and asks me for money. That happens at least twice a day on the race, at least where I’ve been.
On top of all of this, The world is changing. The west is colliding with the east, postmodern crashing into ancient, in the forms of fashion and entertainment; Samsung and Nike billboards rising above Hindu temples with wifi and all the while empowerment programs and charity programs and christian programs and mission trips are happening in this ever changing, pace increasing, performance driven society that is India.
We have to be the swift feet that bring the good news of jesus to the world.
We have to empower people to stand up for themselves.
People need us to fulfill the great commission in our lives.
I can do that. I can do that really well. I am called to make disciples everywhere I go. I can do that.
We’ve got to pray for India. We have to pray against the spiritual darkness there. I know people that sense the heaviness of a place when they walk in. This was something a lot of my squad felt as we landed in India. I’m not much of a feeler when it comes to spiritual things, but I experience things in all five senses. When you walk down the street, and you feel the heat of the day on your skin as you touch the walls of a school decorated in art dedicated to Ghandi.
When you smell incense burning and you see a tiny old yogi who you can barely hear muttering prayers to a picture of Ganesh on a calendar from 2013 hanging up in a little tin shack on the side of the road, as you savor the taste of a McDonald’s McChicken sandwich. Trust me, I see all the issues. A history of traditional idol worship, and the distractions of modern technology hit people in such powerful ways. It’s like a one two punch delivered by the enemy. We just need to be like Jesus and tell the enemy where to go as we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus Christ seated in glory.
I see the power of the gospel ready to break through those very serious and seemingly hopeless issues with truth and grace and a resound and a bright light like that of a firework being lit from the same blaze that will spark India igniting in revival all over its states and villages. It just takes you and me being the hands and feet of Jesus in the world. India needs people that love Jesus. India needs people who will love without agenda and shine like Jesus in desperate dark places. People who will share the gospel with their lives as well as their words.
One of my favorite moments in India was a night of worship on the rooftop of Joy home, one of the houses in the Sarah’s Covenant Homes community. We prayed and sang over the city of Hyderabad that stretched as far as the eye could see.
I could see hope for this place. We sang and prayed that the Holy Spirit would fill the atmosphere of this country, and flood the hearts of everyone He came in contact with. The stars and the city lights that night pale in comparison to the glory of God, and I pray even now as I’m sitting on this rooftop in Cambodia that Jesus continues to move in power in India and to the ends of the earth.
