The memory of the pile of dead hens still haunts me. I watched our cook and several students kill all twelve of them in only two minutes. The carnage that remained was quite gruesome; chickens piled on top of each other in a puddle of blood. Some of them were still flying and kicking. The raw poultry smell that I have come to hate (thanks to a prior occurrence of food poisoning) filled my nostrils. It was hard to look at, but likewise hard to look away. I’ll never forget that moment, because it was my last day in northeast India, and those chickens were going to be dinner.
I have had some time to process my three months in India over the last couple of weeks, and I’ve reached the conclusion that it was heavy. Heavy emotionally, and heavy spiritually. India is a mostly un-reached place. In fact only 2% of the nation are Christians. In the northeast, where we were, a majority of that 2% reside. There are so many lost people there, and there was not much we (personally) could do about it., due to safety concerns and the fact that India is a closed country. We faced the risk of being kicked out of the country and getting the local ministries in serious trouble if we did any sort of evangelism. We were there mostly to empower the local Christians and… well, not much else. There was nothing wrong with that, but I will admit I left feeling unfulfilled, and knowing that the work was far from finished.
When my prop plane took off from the Silchar airport, bound for Kolkata (Calcutta), I looked out the window at the beautiful, blue sky. As I observed the majestic view, I heard a voice say, “You’re going to come back one day.”
“Yes, Lord,” was my response. I knew it to be true. Now I can’t get it out of my head. I figured the World Race was the fulfillment of my call to missions, but now I am feeling the pull again. Again, I somehow know it to be true. When? I have no idea. It is in God’s hands. I am at peace with the prospect. I certainly developed a heart for the people during my stay. They are desperate for the light, life, and hope of the Gospel; not to mention people to share that news with them. Keep northeast India, and really all of India in your prayers.
That last night in India was one of the most meaningful on the Race. Our hosts planned and carried out a farewell program. Fried chicken was on the menu for dinner, which was followed by some tribal dances, speeches, and prayer. At one point we were given an honorary traditional stole that is worn around the head (traditionally used while head-hunting). The evening ended with a tribal dance that everyone took part in and a local hymn we learned. All of the heaviness was lifted that evening. My thoughts were filled only with the sweet moments and people I met. All in all, while taxing, India was a truly unique experience; one I wouldn’t trade for the world. I find myself excited to one day return (potentially); by God’s grace!
