We squished on to a bus to take the ride they said was only a half hour to our ministry site. We had just gotten off our last of 4 flights, stepping off into the middle of no where northeast India.
Its 1pm, which in my mind translates roughly to 1am (jet-lag is real, my friends). My eyes drooped so hard I started to fall asleep, even though every few yards the bumps were big enough to launch my whole body an inch or two off my seat. And as I was falling asleep I was praying. I was praying half-heartedly that they wouldn’t make the food unbearaby spicy and that I would actually be abe to eat, I prayed that the water I bathed in wouldn’t have too many parasites that would crawl in straight through my skin, and that I wouldn’t find myself half dead due to malaria.
These seem like dramatic prays but they were my raw thoughts in my groggy, half-functioning state. You see, since training camp all I’ve heard about India is the things that scared me. I was no longer looking forward to coming. I heard about all the squads who had it coming from both ends, due to stomach problems, if you know what I mean, and the food in the villages being unbelieviably spicy (I’m a serious wimp when it comes to spice). I heard about the size of the bugs and the absurd heat. Malaria ridden mosquitos, how easy it is to offend someone in this culture, and how spiritually heavy and difficult the country is.
I was convinced India was going to be the worst two months of my Race, if not my life.
And on that bus, somewhere between being awake and dreaming the Lord whispered, “Don’t you remember what I promised you?” And somewhere inside of me there was indeed all the promises He had made me, shoved over to the corner with heaps of fears piled on top, barely indentifiable.
Let me tell you where I was before all the fears of India started, what He had spoken over India for me.
While I was trying to decide which route of the Race I wanted to go on I was deciding between two. One morning I was sitting in church, half listening to the sermon going on in front of me, the other half of me I’m sure on the plans I had with friends for the rest of the day. The word “India” broke through my thoughts and was all I could hear in my head. It was persistant and loud so turning to the Lord, I said, “That’s the route you want me to take, huh? The one with India on it?” And Sassy Jesus being Sassy Jesus just kinda shook his head at me. So there it was. I was going to pick Route Two and my last country would be India. I was so excited for this. I imagined the explosion of colors that filled the packed streets. The wonders that the Lord would perform, the new understanding of a different culture and religion. It was all so exciting, after all the Lord had spoken and I knew that meant that India was going to be special, that He was going to be big in India. For quite a while He continued to speak to me about India and how good it was going to be.
Slowly, I lost site of all of this and began to allow myself to be taken over by the fear and worry. By the time travel days came around there wasn’t anything in me that was excited to go to India. Yet, the Lord has spoken and his promises never fail.
And here I am! In the butt crack of India, that feels oddly like home at times. The missionaries we are working with live in the States half the time so they understand us and speak English. The spice of the food gets put on the side in a small little bowl so we can use it if we want it (Indian food is sooo good when there isn’t any spice). The weather is really comfortable. The air constantly smells like bonfire (yummm). The city we are in the first month is actually 100% evangelized, and almost all Christians. We will be branching out to other villages too (best of both worlds, am I right?). Most of the people around here speak at least some English, which means we can actually have conversations and talk about Jesus! The culture is unique and beautiful. These are the most hospitable people I’ve ever met. The bugs aren’t as prevalent as I imagined, and the risk of malaria is extremely low. And let’s not forget the sweetest way the Lord speaks to me about His love, wherever I go- flowers. Wow, they are everywhere and so magnificent here, a constant reminder of the intentional Father I serve!
The Lord’s promises hold fast. His words are truth. And geez, I’m so glad they are because He as spoken and India is sooooo good!
