Dalit Village

Today I visited a village where we have one of our Dalit Education Centers. The morning had me visiting the school, telling the story of David and teaching them my favorite kids' song, Making Melody - thumbs up! I was then taken around the village to the different homes of some of the children. The fascinating thing that I keep hearing is that these students, who are in an English medium school (very prestigious), have actually started to teach their parents English as well as manners. They learn to speak and act correctly at school and then they go home and teach their parents the manners they learned from school. This has made the parents very grateful although they don't teach the children themselves. The children are given an incredibly low cost education with very high standards and the parents are told that the teachers will be teaching them Biblical principles, morals, verses, songs and stories throughout their education. This hasn't received a lot of opposition because of the 1st class education that their children are receiving. Learning English and having access to the different vocational courses (computer and tailoring) is something that could help to launch these children from a desperate impoverished village into much higher paying job somewhere in the city which is only 30-40 km away. The drastic changes in these students homes when they get married and have their own children are going to be astronomical as they will be able to be educated, speak English, teach proper manners and etiquette, understand hygiene, read and understand the Bible and many of them will be filled with the Holy Spirit. The Gospel is incredibly redemptive in this situation. The teachers are all very qualified and love Jesus and were so happy to be working with these students because of the drastic changes they were able to see in the lives of the students and the families. I asked them what their greatest joy was. One teacher who is a MBB (Muslim Background Bel....) said that it is totally worth it to live under the difficult conditions that they do as teachers so that they can see what happens with the children and what changes Christ is making. They don't make anywhere near what a regular teacher makes but they know why they are doing it. The problems they have are getting to and from the school each day and not having electricity as well as poor access to water at times I'm sure. Some of our schools are in the most remote areas of India. That is the Gospel and they are doing the real thing. Here it is very important to be baptized as it signals to the community your decision to be set apart from all other religions, from polytheism, from your old religion, etc... Through the local pastor (who's wife is pregnant and sick and doesn't have money for medicine - he asked me to pray for him about this but the need was so evident) and the teachers, many have been baptized and many more are ready to receive baptism. This truly is a Biblical culture. Please visit, http://www.usa.om.org/omindia/dec.htm to find out more about the Dalit Education Centers as well as http://www.usa.om.org/omindia/partnership.htm if you would like to sponsor an Indian pastor or a Dalit Education Center. The work is overwhelming and the living conditions even more so. Many are really out on the frontier. The schools are popping up all over the place and the need for more is outstanding as well as qualified teachers and pastors to accompany the school work. OM has about 1200 pastors out in field, many in conjunction with these schools as they minister to the whole family. If you want a huge bang for your giving buck, this is definitely a way to make it happen. There are huge outcomes from this giving as well as huge needs. So little can help so much - I've seen it first hand. More and more I believe in the Church and her role in this and it is great to see that the Church is caring for the practical needs of the people that they are reaching. This is opening so many hearts to the Gospel and the change in these communities, though already evident, is going to be exponential within the next generation and on. I have never wanted people to offer their giving to something more than this incredibly powerful and effective ministry. It is education and Church planting all in one package which brings health awareness, empowerment and responsibility, awareness of hygiene and disease related issues, and it brings to the people the face and love of Christ! I have heard so many stories of instances where these pastors are being beat up by fanatics and some are having their lives threatened as well as sometimes having family members killed. I am preparing to post some stories about them soon. It is happening all the time! Prayer, finance and your love. The opportunities are endless! Your Kingdom come, Your Will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Blessings!

Suffering and Solidarity

We sat taking in the day. Bama was sniffling after finishing a short bout of tears, one of many that evening. I had watched her for most of the day to see if she would, waiting for what happened to hit her. I figured she would be fine, maybe she isn’t connected to this building, maybe, it doesn’t hurt her as much as I thought it would. What had happened? It was 9:00 p.m. and we were sitting in the Good Shepherd Ministry office in the middle of a Bombay slum just around the corner from a school which also housed the local Church. Bama, the woman who continued to press on in this slum outreach, had begun with one hut space, then two, and up to this point no one had interrupted her or told her to stop. She had transformed the lots into a school for children in the slums and we were there cleaning up the third addition which had just been completed the day before. This was for a third classroom which would expand the school’s ability to educate the children in this impoverished community.

The only thing was that every small and tattered home happened to be built or put together on property that wasn’t theirs. This is the plight for millions of Indians all over the country and especially in the metropolitan areas. So, technically the school being built shouldn’t have been built, except that every home, business and temple on the same property is under the same set of laws. Up to this point, the authorities hadn’t bothered Bama and her education centers and with that courage she pressed to build a third classroom. No sooner had we finished a magnificent India curry with chipoti, dal and rice after a long morning of cleaning and adjusting furniture for the new classroom, when a knock came on our door. Words were spoken very quickly and frankly in Hindi and in a short period the Indians in the room were rushing out the door with Bama leading the way. We came to understand later that the municipality had come with a big truck, policeman, and about 15 men to destroy the new classroom. I learned that this is normal practice as many slums shoot up overnight and sometimes they are required to tear down their dwellings for safety, health reasons, housing regulations, highways being built and many other inardent reasons that will all go away with a simple bribe. Our police of course are to refuse this course of action and to proceed under the law. If Bama had just offered a bribe to these men to continue on their way and leave the building alone, we would be outfitting the classroom with paint, posters and other teaching implements. Instead, the westerners hid so as to keep from complicating things further and Bama, along with her volunteers, some local believers, and most of the surrounding community watched as their new classroom was torn to the ground. Brick after brick was laid bare while we prayed from the office many unanswered prayers. They continued while we were moved to a local believers hut and waited the destruction out.

Finally, when we they were finished and had driven away, we moved out into the open to discover the rubble of broken walls, where just a couple of hours before stood our classroom. They had waited until right after it was finished to commence their destruction. I suppose to teach Bama a lesson. The lesson being that you don’t build unless you provide the right people with a bribe, in fact the policeman standing and watching over the proceedings asked Bama, why she hadn’t made “peace” with them earlier. For a woman who has been walking with the LORD for most of her life and serving in mission for twenty years in slum ministry, this was more than just a building. Every step forward would seem to send her two steps back. Her godly action of creating, instructing and giving hope was being reversed by greed, anger and tyranny, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Of course, this has happened to many in the slums, many homes have been simply demolished, torn to the ground, displacing thousands of slum dwellers at times. I wonder if this is what Israel felt like each time they had to face their attackers coming to the gates of Jerusalem. Should we give them food like the Israelites were instructed to do when their enemies came to bring them under a siege and instead God blinded them all while the Jews fed them and sent them home. What do you tell your king when that happens? God told them to love their enemies and especially to be kind to the passers by because they were all wanderers and tent dwellers at one time. I suppose that their lives would have been looked down upon by many, like a caste system and yet God chose them. Israel was to know what it meant to suffer, so that they could form solidarity with the world that they would reach, a world gripped under the tyranny of suffering. I remember asking my mother about her and my father’s commitment to the people that God brought them to and why they had stayed in the face of so many disappointments, discouragements and setbacks. First she said that it was for obedience, yet when I pressed for more, she told me that as she looked around at the suffering and the hopelessness and cried out to God for answers to how they would be able to reach these lost people. She told me that God spoke to her heart and said that it would be through suffering and the suffering that they experienced actually was directly related to the suffering of the people that they had been called to. It is almost like God allows us to suffer in the same way that the people that He’s called us to suffer like. If we try to escape it we are seeing our lives as less than our calling. A calling is costly! So what did Bama have at the end of the day?

She had broken walls, a broke bank account and a broken heart. What the men had come to destroy though only sought to build something else - the walls of the Kingdom that Jesus proclaimed and commissioned all of us to proclaim into all parts of the globe. Each brick that came down that day only served to continue building solidarity with the people that Bama had been called to. So what did Bama have at the end of the day? Many complaints could be put forward but what she had was worth more than that classroom cost, more than the bribe she wouldn't pay, more than the entire building itself - she had gained solidarity with a suffering people that would forever alter the destiny of her ministry there and give the Gospel the power it was waiting for and Christ the exaltation He deserves. When asking why we suffer, we can also ask, who do we suffer for and how are the walls of the Kingdom being built while the walls around us crumble? Suffering and solidarity.

Matthew 4:17

“From that time Jesus began to preach and say, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

Email to George Verwer

I sen an email to George with this excerpt in it about a recent event from last week that I was involved with in the slums of Bombay...

Two days ago, a local municipality thug came with 15 guys and destroyed
>a room that the Good Shepherd ministry had just built to extend their
>school so that they could educate more children. The room was supposed
>to be another classroom. We had just finished cleaning it up and
>arranging the desks when they showed up and destroyed it all within 2
>hours. It is legal for them to do this but they should do it to all of
>the squatters in the area. They don’t because they’ve been paid bribes
>and so the inhabitants live under a constant tyranny and at any time,
>they could be uprooted and have their home destroyed. Bama is the
>leader here – a lady that was on the ship when you showed them your
>global underwear – she still remembers of course. She’s a special lady
>and has been in OM for 20 years. After the destruction, we cleaned up
>and got it all out of the way so that they wouldn’t come back and keep
>giving us problems. At the end of the day Bama sat in her chair and
>cried while the local Christians from the slum surrounded her and
>hugged her. She had entered into their world of tyranny and suffering
>in a whole new way and more than ever she was one of them.
>What a victory for the Kingdom. Suffering formed solidarity for her
>and the community. I am going to blog about it. She is going to
>rebuild it and has every intention of not giving up no matter what they
>do. She’s a rock solid women for Jesus! I was there with them the
>whole time and was able to see a servant of Jesus really love and
>suffer with these people. It is incredible what life is like here.
>

Off To School...

Well, it has been two years since I left Trinity Evangelical Divinity School where I had started a 3 year Masters of Divinity program. I have completed one year and after being gone for two years working in mission I had decided to not go back as a full time student upon returning to America. This was because I didn't want to pull out loans for another 2+ years of school, especially with the intention of being available to travel overseas for the pastoral calling God gave to me in my senior year of Bible school. I was just reminded today of the need for seminary education today as I had the opportunity to teach a Bible study using the Greek meanings and the tools that I had acquired while in Bible School and Seminary. The cool thing was that I was teaching an OM team in a slum area of Bombay where most of the inhabitants are uneducated, unable to read and seem to need prayer, finances and healing more than sound Bible teaching and Greek exegesis. Today I found out that this isn't true. Although some of the listeners aren't able to read they aren't stupid, in fact they connect with the culture of the Bible much more in their present day situation than the Western world does. In this, they were able to connect with the principles more naturally as they would from their own everyday experiences. They all were thankful for the Biblical teaching and lamented at those who had taught them without working on their sermons or teaching them off the cuff. Wow! Proper Biblical exegesis and the original languages are just as important if not more for uneducated, illiterate brothers and sisters who have embraced Christ in the slums of Bombay. So the result, after seeing God lead me back to school and asking me to trust him for the provision and reminding me of the importance of a Seminary education in the middle of a Bombay slum, I have decided, in faith, to reapply to school full time and have been accepted, trusting God for the stamina, finances and brain power. I will get home to Chicago on the 18th of August and start classes on the 22nd. Prayer is in high demand! Oh Yeah!

Images from Mumbai!

The Bombay Blessing!

I just arrived in Bombay yesterday to a sweltering heat that is thoroughly sticky and uncomfortable. In fact, that would be one word that would explain what I have been feeling since arriving here – uncomfortable. My first sight as I stepped down from the air conditioned bus by the Vasi railway station was a group of beggars, or more like a beggar family. There was one woman who caught my attention immediately because there was something hanging from her mouth. Without looking too closely I could see that it was a long line of drool, something that you would see on somebody who was extremely sick and uncared for. She was adorned in beautiful colors even though the material was dirty and unkept. The first thought that crossed my mind was, "This is demonic". The image of the Creator that was imprinted on her soul and form was so tarnished and broken, and the beauty that she possessed so shrouded by the dirt and grime. I walked past her and was immediately confronted with a beggar sitting by a bus stop who was missing an arm and a leg. His other leg had some noticeable scars and some sort of flesh disease. He saw me coming and held up his small bowl with a few scattered coins in it. I held out my hand, not to give freely to him who was in deficit, but to refuse his gesture. I kept walking and within seconds was in front of a shopping mall fitted to attract the wealthy and middle-classed of the city. Outside was a batting cage with well fed young men, batting with a cricket bat and inside, the distinct odor of materialism was as pungent as the putrid still water which lies in the canal next to my residence. I took the escalators, four of them to the top floor where I was confronted by all the food dispensaries one could enjoy including McDees, Subway, among other unfamiliar but attractive food stands. I walked around the all too familiar environment, yet for the first time in my life, I felt so out of place in the kind of place that I had come to before in my own country many times for enjoyment, fun, and a meeting point for friends. I stood looking out over the colors, the eastern faces and the white washed walls of this auditorium. I felt empty, angry and uncomfortable.

I had just finished reading through half of Sadhu Sundar Singhs biography. This sadhu/saint had denied himself the life of a wealthy Sikh family, the comfort of home and the life of luxury that his father had arranged for him and he took on self-denial setting out to preach the Gospel wherever He went. His focus was on the country of Tibet, a land forsaken by many and reached by few. The Gospel had not reached very much of this land yet and there was a yearning for him to be there often, preaching the Gospel to the unreached. It was a day of extremes for me as my eyes took in never-before-seen images of poverty and wealth in such stark contrast. My heart and mind were lingering still in the unfinished pages of the story of a man who forsook all for the Gospel, everything was laid aside and I now write this in a sort of a daze, an unfinished realization of something that is so profound that I haven’t found words for it yet. I don’t know if I ever will. I don’t know if I want to. If I continue to think about the reality of what I learned and saw today, I may be called to a way of living that begs the question, how much? How long? Is it worth it? I know the answer to each and yet, to be completely honest, my desire for escapism and comfort is begging me in the poverty of my heart with the same earnestness as the armless and legless man who I saw earlier today, to not ask the question, because it is easier to live without the answer. Yet beyond that answer, a world of freedom is calling me, a world too scant and uninformed, untravelled and unknown, ambiguous and quaint, yet it keeps calling. I feel it surrounding my head as much as the humidity of Bombay is crowding my skin. “Live in such a way to be the answer to the problems you see” is a word that I believe Ghandi said. Christ said something about doing unto the least of these and you have done it unto me. What do I say about that? Well, for now, it is easier to put it off and wait to forget that I want an answer.

This Sunday I preach about courage. Oh to know what that truly means! I know that despite this hanging reality, there is a greater reality that God does provide hope for us to truly love those He puts in our path. I guess the poverty of the soul really impresses onto our hearts that it is only Him that can minister through us and if we try on our own, without abiding in the vine, there is so little or no fruit that is born. This is what the Bombay blessing taught me. I was also taught not to see the people as they are, but to see them as God sees them, in their dignified potential image bearing state - and then to orient myself towards that beauty whether they are believers or not. As Stephanie has taught me, God always finishes with hope. Whether it starts with reality, pain or joy, He also finishes with hope. That is the Bombay blessing! Please pray with me that I would see these people through the eyes of our Savior and their loving Father and not my own truncated, cataracts, natural human view. Both are possible, one is impossible unless the Savior initiates it, but that's the one I want. To see the reality of beauty and image-bearing before I see the natural human world, and then to fight, fast, work, love and pray that "already not yet" image and beauty into existence alongside my hope giving Savior and under the influence and power of His Spirit with the Father's heart and hand guiding us.

UBS

I had the privilege of being the photographer for a Christian brother who was graduating from Union Biblical Seminary, probably the best seminary in India right now. Over 100 graduates were being launched out into a country and world that is very different and yet so similar to the world back in North America in which I have been formed and shaped. These future pastors, missionaries, etc... will be ministering in a myriad of ministries, provinces, slums, villages, metropolitan regions, Churches, countries and so many more spheres of influence. Some will be beaten, others may have their lives threatened, still others may go home early for their witness. I was brought to tears as I watched them stroll past me in their dignified robes, realizing the impact that they will have as they launch out into the world that God has placed them, the 10/40, the silk road, world of two countries, filled with a billion each and almost bordering each other with more languages, people and cultures than you could possibly imagine. God is working over here and these are the Saints who are some of the most equipped to serve the beautiful Bride of Asia. What a privilege to be here!

Unexpected Blessings

Indian trains are famous or infamous for how packed out they can be. On a trip from Hyderabad to Pune, I was ready for anything, expecting the worst, hoping for a little less than the best. Standing on the platform, I saw the biggest and widest city train I’ve ever seen. Its width reminded me of the burritos I used to order while living in Chicago compared to the Taco Bell burritos. Next our train came and again, I prepared myself for the worst. I then found out that we were going to actually be in the AC cabin with the sleeper beds. Wow! My experience with sleeper bed compartments in Uzbekistan wasn’t that great. On that 14 hour trip from Samarkand to Khiva, myself and two friends found ourselves all the way to the back with the train personnel, who were frantically waking other personnel workers up to give us their beds. I slept in the personnel cabin, next to the control box while they waited for someone to vacate a bribed bed. I finally landed my own cabin at 2 or 3 a.m. So I was ready for anything when we stepped onto the train in Hyderabad. We lugged our bags into the train car, proceeded down the tiny corridor and finally turned into the vast and spacious compartment where we were to spend the next 10 hours. I was more than surprised, I was blessed. Being blessed is an experience like grace. You expect the worst and yet receive something so much better. There were four bunks and a huge cavity for us to move around in as well as the frosty AC to enjoy. There I began to thank the LORD for this great cabin, the AC, the unexpected spaciousness and the freedom to relax and get some much needed work done. I began to list off in my head all of things I wanted to accomplish within the next 10 hours and was looking forward to redeeming the time and getting some time to myself. What a blessing and not to mention the incredible AC. I had chosen to come to India for the two hottest months of the year. From the moment I arrived until I left, it was going to be hotter than any other time in this vast and extremely populated country. So the AC was blessing allowing me to hide away from the reality of what waited for me outside. The space was blessing me, the time redemption was blessing me, the chance to rest, the AC, etc… all blessings!

Then it happened! He came ever so quickly without any chance for me to protest. Before I could make alternate suggestions or show my self-absorbed body language, he was sitting across from the busy papers on my lap and the Bible by my side. In that moment I had a choice. What would I choose? I asked him half annoyed and half inquisitive, “Is that your seat?” He said, “Yeah!” Apparently his spot was across the aisle from us but it was on the upper section and not easily accessed, so he was compelled to join us in our seats while he wasn’t lying down in his compartment. I grudgingly contextualized my thoughts and remembered, I was in India. I wasn’t in London or Chicago, where a single look can establish a greater berth of personal space and comfort. I then had to answer my question, was I going to ignore a lost soul sitting across from me and work away or would I engage him in a conversation that could result in a presentation of the annoying Gospel? I’ve learned that the Gospel sometimes really annoys me. I really want the blessings that had been unexpectedly presented to me. I mean, how am I able to enjoy these unexpected blessings, if I have to give them up for the responsibility to share the Gospel with this lost man? I then did what I rarely do, I asked God for this man, for an opportunity to share. I put my papers down and poised myself to begin or receive a conversation with my Bible strategically placed. So we started…

He was in the army, I was traveling. He was a sailor, I was a Bible student. He was a sailing champion, I was a Bible teacher. He was from Bombay, I was from Chicago where I attended Bible School. His name was Pallav, mine was Nathan. He was 24, I was 28. He also wanted to meet the girls I was traveling with and in that I was tempted to think that he really didn’t want to talk with me anyways, so why should I give the effort. We chatted and the annoying thoughts kept passing through my head and began to invade my heart. Finally after about two hours, he was off to visit some others.

Ahhh, breathing room…I was actually glad that he left after stressing about how to enter him into a conversation about beliefs, religion and Jesus. Now I could relax, get some work done and take the evangelization pressure off. I ate some supper with my traveling friends, played a refreshing game of Yahtzee and then I settled in for some work on my computer. No sooner had I placed the MP3 player on my head to listen to teachings about Church Planting, then he, and now 3 others, showed up. I scrunched back into the corner with a look of disgust hiding behind my smile. I thought to myself, “if they are here to meet the girls and I’m the bridge then I don’t know what to do – aahhhhh….” Apparently they were all sailors with the Indian military and had just come from a sailing competition or something, blah, blah, blah and we were supposed to be interested and impressed. I settled in for another annoying and most likely long conversation. After hearing introductions and some small talk, the last blessing of the night came.

If my life was a movie, this would be the time when everyone stops moving and I would turn, face the camera and begin to speak to you about what I had just learned. I would let you know what God chose to show me and how I learned it through this whole process, but I don’t have video cameras following me around and I don’t have control over space and time. I can though bring you into a glimpse of how God’s glory shone through my annoyance and moved past my self-imposed limitations of self-absorption.

He pointed to the beaten and brown Bible on the small table in front of me, “So, we would like to hear about this book, since you are a teacher of it – tell us your favorite thing about it – no tell us your three favorite things from it.” Sitting with my proverbial mouth wide open, I quickly ran through the favorite parts of Scripture that have hit me over the past year, years, month, days, etc… I quietly consented and proceeded to my favorite story in the Bible, Hosea and the prostitute. I filled the narrative account as I tried to communicate the unfailing and disastrous love of God for his nation, his whoring wife, Israel. I then was able to relate that to us and how we chase after other gods and things in our lives and yet God pursues us with relenting love that passes beyond conventional wisdom and demands the very core of what love really is. I then scrambled to Roman 6:22 where the wages of sin is death but the gift of God is eternal through Christ Jesus our LORD. I shared with him about how grace is a gift and goes beyond what is deserved, beyond mercy and actually gives freely that which is good when the opposite is deserved. In this I was able to relate a story of grace in my own life which my father showed me. It was during a time when I deserved a regular and justified punishment as a young boy (otherwise known as a spanking) and my father instead took the punishment for me. I told them all, no religion offers this. No faith will teach you that you deserve (wages) punishment but instead are given (free gift) something good and comforting and life transforming instead. Only the faith of the Old and New Testament, the faith that follows Jesus, does this. Then we jumped to John 14:6, a difficult one for Hindus, which they eventually confessed as their religion of choice. I did tell them that this was an easy prayer, but a total and whole life commitment. My friend asked, “So then what do we have to do?” I love that question. What do they have to do? Thanks to Paul, there are no formulas but the closest thing to them, a confession. Romans 10:9 and 10. Confessing with our mouths Jesus as Lord and believing with our hearts that God raised Him from the dead. After sharing with my new friends, they trailed off into their belief that many beliefs lead to God, etc… I shared with them how Jesus wasn’t only believable, kind and powerful but that He changed my life too. I’ve been learning that that is the key lately. Telling that a personal change happened in my life because of Jesus, not just that the Bible is true, that Jesus resurrection wasn’t false, that the Bible hasn’t been altered, but that my life has been altered. In that short exchange, my attitude was altered and now the annoyance was annulled because God used my unexpected blessing to show me that His idea of unexpected blessings can at times be very unexpected. In my experience, I would it happens most of the time. Be blessed but be careful! Thank you Lord for this incredible and humbling opportunity, please “bless” me as much as you want.

The story doesn’t end with a salvation but it does with the a changed attitude, a Gospel proclaimed and a new friend made.

What a Day!

One week!

Well, it has almost been one week that I've been in Hyderabad and already, I've seen so much. This past 5 days I've had the privilege of visiting two of the Dalit Education schools run by OM India. Most of the children in these schools are from the Dalit caste, or the historic untouchables of India. The Dalit Freedom Network is an initiative set up by the AICC (All India Christian Council) to fight for the rights of this massive group of people - 250 million. Joseph D'Souza, the OM India leader, set this organization up to address the abuses against the Dalits and to advocate for them in society and government. The Dalit leaders asked Joseph D'Souza and OM to begin by educating their children, so OM has been hard at work putting together education cetners that will educate the children as well as teach them vocational skills. This allows them continually to share the Gospel through deed and word. Dalits communities have embraced a mass exodus from Hinduism because of the support it has given to the Caste system. The Church is here waiting for them and hoping that they will choose Jesus instead of revenge, Buddhism, Islam or any other religion that would offer them a way out of their hidden apartheid. The children as you can see are beautiful and of course made in the image of God, their Creator. If you are interested in supporting these schools financially or in teaching in them, please visit, http://www.usa.om.org/omindia/. I also had the opportunity to speak in a devotional in front of 60 pastors from the OM India Church planting intiative which has planted 2,000 Churches in the past 6 years. The pastors of these Churches face ever-increasing persecution because of the rise in Hindu fundamentalism. One pastor I spoke with had been beaten and tortured for sharing openly with people in his community while another had a woman in his congregation who's arm was broken by her husband for going to his Church. She continues to come when she can. It was a humbling opportunity and one that I will never forget. These men are coming with stories of beatings, persecution but also healings and many wonderful stories of God's power working amongst Indian people. Please keep the Indian Church in your prayers as it is steadily growing and making a huge impact on society. This morning I was able to visit the Good Shepherd health clinic which is here on the campus of OM India in Hyderabad. It was an interesting morning as the doctor invited me into his office. In that short morning period he treated at least 15-20 people and was constantly cracking jokes, like, "I believe in the liberty, freedom and the pursuit of making patients pay, I believe in liberty, freedom and the pursuit of money, and on and on he went about how he loved America and the way that many Americans had supported his work there along with people from Canada and Europe. He was a good man with a healthy sense of humor - if you saw what I saw, you would need the same thing along with prayer and a dependence on the Holy Spirit for daily strength and health, please keep him in your prayers. Blessings!

Where in the world?

Well..... it has been over two months since I last posted anything. I wish I could have communicated to you the reason why but now that I can I will. After leaving Tajikistan I was in a more developed nation with internet security watches and wasn't able to post anything to keep from being noticed. Now that I am out of the country I can write freely. At present I am in Hyderabad, India and will be in this vastly populated country for two months. I have four months left of this amazing year that God has given to me and I want to make the most of every opportunity as I finish up. Finishing well once again is on my heart. Please see my list of prayer requests below as I prepare for what is being finished and what will be started. Thank you for being patient with the dormant blog and I will be posting stuff much more although it will still be a bit difficult because I don't have as much opportunity to connect to the internet. Thank you for your patience and please come back for more stories soon. Blessings!

Prayer Points!

1. For continued spiritual growth and understanding of where God is calling me to.

2. For safety in travel and "being all there" in my time in India.

3. For preparing for my two months on the Doulos in Japan and South Korea

5. For my decision to jump right back into Seminary a week after I return to Chicago from two years of service with OM

6. For finances as I seek to see all my support come in for this year and as I prepare in paying for Seminary.

7. For a job that fits my school schedule and a car to get around if I need one.

8. For spiritual endurance and the love for the people that God will put in my path for the next 4 months.

9. For lasting fruit from my time in Tajikistan and Persia.

10. For wisdom on choosing where to live when I return to school.

Reflections...

I am nearing the end of my three months in Central Asia. I realized the other day that this part of the world is where I have lived the longest outside of my own continent. I have had the opportunity to play on the national level for basketball and receive second place in the whole country with my team. God has also given me the opportunity to officially teach English in a foreign country and to help launch two business enterprises while I've been here. These opportunities have allowed me to build relationships to share the Gospel with people that have never heard the simple Gospel before. That hit me hard the other day. I have shared the Gospel with individuals who have never heard the real story of Jesus. They have heard much but not the truth. I stood in a lit classroom after the working day had passed and shared for at least an hour with a Muslim friend the truth of Jesus and what He has offered to us. His question at the end was, "Can I be a Muslim and Christian at the same time?" The sad but true answer was "no". I knew I had to say it but I could see in his eyes that after hearing this News for the first time, he desired it and I wish he could have it. The difference here is that being a Muslim is not only a belief, it is a way of life and not being a Muslim anymore means much more than it would for a Catholic not to be a Catholic anymore. I've heard so much about the unreached and the difficulty of reaching them and here I was, standing in front of one such "unreached". What a privilege! I've also heard much about the "Back to Jerusalem" movement from the Chinese Church as they move into the most unreached part of the world through the old "Silk Road" route. As I traveled and lived in this region, I was again incredibly privileged to be able to share Jesus with those who are in one of the most unreached and increasingly difficult areas of the world. I count it all a privilege and my hope is that many others would have this privilege in the near future who haven't had it. What do you think? Would you count it a privilege?

What Do You Think?

I AM CURIOUS AS TO WHAT OTHERS THINK OF THIS STATEMENT.

Eedee Korbon and Mel Gibson

Well, for the Muslim holiday in which they celebrate the belief that God stopped Abraham from killing "Ishmael" after He told him to do so, we

were invited to the houses of our friends where we were supposed to eat a lot of food and pray for the house that we were visiting. The tradition goes that each house is supposed to prepare food for guests to come and eat and every house is to welcome anyone who comes to the door even if they don't know them. We could have literally walked into any home and sat and ate for at least a half hour and then prayed for the home. We did this in two homes and thoroughly enjoyed their hospitality. The holiday is a great opportunity to go to their homes and to share the truth of Jesus being the final sacrifice needed for our sin.

I recently watched the film, "Apocalypto", the new film by Mel Gibson about the Aztech empire in South America. The riveting scene in the film is when the captured Natives are on top of the sacrifice pyramid getting ready to have their lives ended by being sacrificed. The film does an excellent job of turning your stomach and causing disgust and gratitude at the same time. Disgust for what the sacrifice represented and the confusion that surrounded the scene and gratitude that we don't have to deal with the putridness of believing lies and the death that follows, specifically in sacrificing humans to appease "the gods". In the middle of thinking about this, I began to realize that in not believing in human sacrifice, I am denying my faith. As disgusting as it sounds, human sacrifice is the most important thing to the faith of any Christian. Without it we are lost. So before you detest the practice of human sacrifice in the film, realize that it is the salvation of any follower of Jesus. The only difference is that it only had to happen once, not over and over. God did need to be appeased and He was and it was and is our salvation, the Human sacrifice.

My New Year's Resolution

I made the Man of Sorrows sorry by all my foolish lies.
I drove the nails, I raised the cross
I was the reason that He died

Utterly unfaithful then I added anger to my sin
In a world already dark to me, I closed my eyes and would not see

So I may kick and I may scream, say many things I do not mean
Hold blindly to what is not true, but I will not walk away from You.

Just why I choose to disobey
I simply cannot tell

Why I blame you when I rebel and weep for wounds I give myself
Then screaming at an empty sky, I search for you and wonder why…

Though I cause you so much agony, you refuse to walk away from me

Don’t read me pointless poems friend
Don’t diagnose, don’t condescend
Though you may be right to disagree
I need someone to weep with me

I made the Man of Sorrows sorry by all my foolish lies
I drove the nails, I raised the cross
I was the reason that He died

So I may kick and I may scream,
Hold blindly to what is not true
But I will not walk away from you.

-Michael Card