Sweat was dripping down my back. We had been walking for about an hour, through the outskirts of Kathmandu, Nepal. It was a really hot day for this time of year. We were on our way to a leper colony.
As we walked down a steeper path, I looked up and what I saw took my breath away. Mountains. So many mountains. As far as I could see. The tallest mountains I had ever seen. And among them, rows and rows of hay ready to be harvested. The farmers were carrying bundles of hay, three, sometimes four times their size on their backs, supported only by a small strap of fabric around their heads.
After walking another half hour or so we came to a long rickety bridge that stretched for what seemed liked ages across the raging river below. One by one, we crossed, feeling the weight of our steps move the entire structure back and forth.
Sighing relief as we made it to the other side, we finally came to the location of the leper colony. It was a beautiful place, placed among the mountains. The building was made in a circle so if you came outside your room you could sit in a garden filled courtyard and look out at the mountains beyond.
People were spread out and relaxing everywhere. Some were lying in the grass, others sitting beside a bush of flowers, a few could be seen leaning up against the tree in the middle. All had missing fingers, parts of their feet, sometimes entire legs and arms were missing. Most of their faces you could tell were unrecognizable from what they were before they got leprosy.
All I could see was beauty.
They were so beautiful. These people, all living on an isolated mountain together, because society didn’t want them anymore…because their families didn’t want them anymore. Some walked around with a bounce in their step, a mischievous grin on their face, even the way they talked with such enthusiasm, their stub-like arms swinging around as they told their stories, it grasped my heart more than any other people we had the privilege of meeting this month.
What broke my heart even more were the lies some of these people believed because of their illness. Lies of the enemy. Lies like, you are not worthy to live a normal life, you are ugly, you are like this because of your sin, there is no forgiveness for you…..so many horrible, ugly lies.
I spoke with three women in particular on this day struggling with their identity. One woman looked at me in utter bewilderment when I told her she was beautiful. “I don’t think I’m beautiful,” she said, trying to hide her arms that didn’t have hands anymore. I explained to her that I saw her as God sees her, and that Jesus wants her to know how beautiful and loved she is by Him. Her eyes welled with tears when she heard this. “I know Jesus,” she said. “I travel an hour every week to go to church.” As she thought about it, she nodded. Then she looked up and smiled. She was beautiful.
Another woman would not stop crying over regret. Regret of the ‘sinful life that lead her to this life.’ “I deserve this,” she said. “I know I live this life for my sin.” Such a common lie of the enemy. I was angry and heartbroken at the same time. Angry that the enemy had her believing this lie for so long, and heartbroken that she had lived this long without hearing the truth. I explained to her that she is not living this life because of anything she had done, but because we live in a fallen world. I explained to her that she is forgiven for anything and everything that she’s ever done, and that Jesus sees her as she is. That He is aware of her pain, and her struggles, and He wants her to run to Him. He wants her prayers, He wants to provide for her, He wants to answer her every need.
The third woman wasn’t a member of the community at all, but a woman fighting contagious leperousy and living with her daughter-in-law. This woman in particular I was drawn to. I felt the Holy Spirit leading me to speak with her in particular. She was very uninterested in talking to me at first, telling me it was pointless when she had no tea to offer. She sat in the middle of the path, cross-legged, staring at a rose bush, a scowl on her face. I told her she was beautiful, and for the first time she looked at me. She began to explain that she had run away from her daughter-in-law because she was mistreated by her. She hadn’t eaten in 3 days. I struggled to hold back tears I was so upset for her. I asked her if she had ever heard of Jesus Christ. When she said she hadn’t I explained to her who He was and what He had done for her. She told me she liked what she heard, but needed to think about it. I smiled and told her how special she was, and that God brought me there to speak with her and make sure she could eat that day. My teammate who was then beside me, handed her a 100 ruppee bill, equivalent to 1 US dollar, enough to buy her food for at least the next day or two. I prayed for her, gave her a hug and thanked her for speaking with me. She beamed with joy, told us goodbye, turned and walked away.
Most of the people in this camp still practice Hinduism…a religion that teaches they are living the life they live because they are bad people. A religion that has them believing their illness is a punishment, a punishment deserved. They have no one, and because of this religious belief their families have abandoned them. They are all illiterate, and completely dependent on the community in that colony. A community that sometimes forgets to feed a person or two here and there. They have no way to read the truth, and no way to get somewhere to hear it. Although we were able to tell these people about Jesus and pray for them, they need a means to hear the truth every day. Please join me in prayer for these beautiful people and people like them in this world. Please pray for a permanent source of truth.
