Before I left my sister gave me a baller journal filled with pages with titles on them…so when the race is done i’ll have a little scrap booky of the year! I typed a few of them up so share a little insight of this crazy race so far. (Pictures coming soon)
Cultural Mistakes…
Our first month was India.. Culture shock 2011. The first Sunday we hit up a local church and they were doing communion… (Lets keep in mind I am left handed and I hadn’t comprehended how important it is to NOT use my left hand for anything… except in the restroom.) So the communion gets to me… I naturally used my left hand and immediately get slapped and a scolded with the eyeballs. Welcome to India, Ruth.
Languages I have heard.
Hindi.
Arabic.
Telugu.
Napalese.
Romanian.
Spanish.
Seen sign language.
Forms of transportation we have embarked upon.
Buses.. Inside and on top.
Airplanes.. Inside and on top. Just kidding.
Back of trucks.
Autos.. Inside and on top.
Taxis.
Big vans.
Small vans.
Name it, we have hopped on it.
Places I want to visit again.
-Bay of Bengal in Ongole India. The city was gross… but we were told on our off day that we were going to the “beach.” I imagined a sick form of Galveston. We drove.. And drove… and parked and were told it was on the other side of the forest.. We walked.. And BAM my breath was taken away. Since Indians don’t like to swim, this place looked like it had never been touched…I want to go back for sure.
-The village we went to in India that the Spirit was so evident. The harvest is absolutely ready there… and I know the kingdom will be blowing up there sooner or later!
(Photo by: Emily Nance)
Things I hate.
Mosquitoes. I got eaten alive.
Community sometimes 😉
Leaving my baby baskar in India.
Demons.
How intentional Satan is..
Materialism.
Pimps.
How many girls are sucked into trafficking.
How ignorant I have been.
Dumb idols.
Things I miss from home.
Barry.
Eva.
Daniel.
Elizabeth.
David.
Michael.
Jonathan.
Lydia.
Hannah.
Stephen.
Candas.
Jake.
Levi.
(I guess I could have just said my family.)
Verses I cling to.
Isaiah 61 we are freakin called to change the world.
Ezekiel 37 the valley of dry bones… seeing the world as dry bones but waiting EXPECTANTLY for them to rise.
Romans 8.. Living through the spirit.
1 Peter 4:8 “Love each other deeply… For love covers a multitude of sins.”
Romans 13:12 “The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.”
I could go on and on.
Things I never want to forget.
The memories that went down with my team on the roof of our house in Ongole.
The beach in India… and how the Lord showed himself to us so magnificently.
When we went bus surfing.
Climbing the mountains in Nepal and how I literally had to depend on the Lord for every single step.
Our contacts in all three countries this far. They are all God fearing out of control world changers.
The sunrises and sunsets I have seen.
Lives I have seen changed.
My teams.
Manessa.
Samson.
Indian Grandma.
Nepali Grandma.
Baskar.
Ronnie.
Pastor T.
Pastor R.
So many unnamed people in the villages.
Ama.
Waldo Devka.
Dancer boy.
Many more.
Ways my 5 senses have been overloaded.
Sick smell if the squatty potties…
Amazing feeling of sand in my toes.
Sick smell of India in general.
Delicious Smell of Chipati cooking.
Freaking taste of delicious chai tea.
Out of control disgusting smell of our room in Nepal!
Haunting sight of “Pick what chicken you want us to kill for you to eat for dinner..”
sickening sight of “lets guess what chicken body part this is….”
Delicious taste of food in romania!
Overwhelming sight of the beautiful Nepali mountains.
Taste of our chocolate chip cookie bake off in Romania!
Feeling of I am about to pass out after these mountains.
Overjoyed feelings of villages giving their lives to the Lord.
Baller contacts we have partnered with.
India Christian Ministries (ICM).
Sarahs Covenant Home (SCH).
Nepalee Youth Ministries.
Casa Shalom.
Places we have slept so far.
Convent with nuns. House of worship. Teresas embassy. A house under construction. Overnight bus. Hyderbad airport floor. Overnight train. Two story bus. Human trafficking refugee house. Bedroom in a church. Himalaya yoga house. New Delhi airport. Rolling stone hostel. Casa shalom.
I refuse to take the following for granted…
I will not take my bed for granted.
Or REAL coffee.
Or hot showers whenever I want.
Or driving anywhere I wanna go.
Or sermons that I understand.
Or hugging my family whenever I want.
Or the fact that 99.9% of people in the US can speak my language and I have not tried my best to pour Christ into them… I find myself desiring so bad to just talk to people all around the world… but they don’t know my language. Why do I ONLY feel mission minded in other places? I’ve been wrecked. Basically this thing is crazy and I’ll never be the same.
How I will never be the same.
It is so psycho how the Lord is so brilliant and prepared the way for me SO easily to get me out of my sinking sand and put me on a rock. A solid rock surrounded by a community of people who are in the exact same place in life. He is out of control.
