Come to Me

I've heard pastors say all my life that we are to come to Jesus like little children, and I've always wondered what that really means. Do I go to Jesus with snot coming out of my nose or with poo in my diaper? Do I go to Jesus crawling on all fours? I think I've heard that it has something to do with humility and with having faith like that of a child (they believe anything you tell them, right?). Both of these things are correct, absolutely, but I was still curious.

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It's funny; sometimes the light goes on when you least expect it. This past Tuesday was just another day in India. My sister is here visiting and I was taking her to one of our schools so she could teach a class of 5th graders. As expected she taught very well. After she finished it was time for the students to go home and then we welcomed in the afternoon session children. Pre-kindergarten thru 1st grade. The first order of business was assembly in the one-room church/schoolroom. During assembly the children pray, recite verses, sing songs, and say the pledge to India. For verse recitation the teachers select a student to lead while the remaining children repeat what the leader is reciting. I don't know if it's a verse they recite everyday or if God had them recite this special verse on this particular day to appease my curiosity, but when the leader spoke... these words came out of his small mouth...

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"Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14

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Looking around the small room all I could see were the nearly 100 children, eyes closed tight, hands pressed together in front of them in the posture of prayer, hair matted with sweat, standing in perfect lines, saying (or maybe shouting) this verse back to the leader with a reckless faith that I have NEVER witnessed in an American church, and then it hit me.

These children NEED Jesus. They have nothing else. They don't have the luxury of depending on the money their parents have. Most of their parents earn only $50 per month. This is just enough to pay rent and buy some food. They don't get to decide which outfit they'll wear today, many only have one. They can't decide if they'll take Mom's car or Dad's truck to school. They walk. They don't decide if they'll pack a turkey or a ham sandwich for lunch. They'll eat whatever they can find. They don't decide whether to go to the upstairs bathroom or to the one in the basement. They use the bathroom on the street. These children NEED Jesus. He's the only constant in their lives. He's the only One they can rely on.

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We don't need Jesus in America which is why it's so hard for us to go to Jesus like little children. 'I have everything I need (and want) and I'm doing just fine' is something none of us would say, but unfortunately it's something we subconciously think all the time.

"Let the little children come to Me". It is about humility and it is about a child-like faith, but it's more about a NEED. Like a 1 month baby needs its mother, we NEED Jesus.

To finish the verse recitation portion of assembly the children recited Psalm 23. "The Lord is my Shephard. I shall never be in want." How true that is. For them the verse does not read "The Lord is my Shephard (only when times get dark and stormy). (I earn good money and I have job security and I have so many friends that have the same and I can get to a hospital anytime I need to and I can send my child to get a good education for almost no cost.... But other than that it is the Lord that takes care of me and........) I shall never be in want". For these children the verse reads "The Lord is my Shephard. He is all I have, but He is also all I will ever need".

Do I NEED Jesus? Do I go to Him out of convenience or because I can't live without Him?

Nepal

I'm pretty sure it's not really possible to give God a high five, but if it were I'd definitely have to give Him one for the beauty he allowed these eyes to behold over the last two weeks.

On summer break from school, Marshall and I headed to Kathmandu, Nepal a couple of weeks ago to beat the heat and see some cool sites while doing a bit of trekking in the Himalayas. From Kathmandu we took a 7 hour bus ride to Pokhara, the hub of the trekking world for the Annapurna region. From Pokhara we covered some 75 miles by foot over a 7 day period. We saw gorgeous valleys in Siklis and breathtaking snowcaps as we headed up the Modi Khola (river) to reach our goal of Annapurna Base Camp situated at roughly 12,500 feet. Our trekking guide, Ajaya, was awesome to have around. He knew so many people in the mountains we almost didn't feel like tourists as we stopped at guest houses to sleep each night. I snapped close to 250 pictures and wanted to share all of them with you on here, but...... these will have to do. Enjoy!

Our arrival in Pokhara was met with a beautiful sunset over the lake.

Look closely. That's us on TOP of the bus headed out of Pokhara to the place where there are no roads. We seemed to never find an open seat inside. Oh well. The breeze felt great.

Still fresh at this point. Ajaya does not seem to be impressed.

I'm still a little spunky at this point as well.

Our route up the Modi Khola before arriving at Annapurna Base Camp. The river was a lot bigger up close.... and fast.

Our guest house at Machapuchre (Fishtail) Base Camp (3,720m). Temps went from mid 80's earlier that day as we were still climbing to a nippy 35 degrees that night when we reached Base Camp. We didn't seem to have enough clothing but the guest house gave us extra blankets to wear around.

Machapuchre (Fishtail), 6,993m...taken from Annapurna Base Camp

Me, Ajaya, and Marshall at Annapurna Base Camp with the towering Annapurna I (8,091m) behind us

We made it! 4,130 meters, or about 12,500 feet above sea level. That's Annapurna South in the background standing at 7,219m.

Sunrise over the Gandharba Chuli giving nice light to Machapuchre

The walk down the Annapurna Glacier, with Machapuchre in the background, after leaving Annapurna Base Camp.

Trekking is over. We're back in Kathmandu. Just waiting patiently for dinner at our guide, Ajaya's, apartment. We finally got this little fella to warm up to us.

Daddy is tired. More steps. I thought trekking was over.

A Real Love Story

You are constantly waiting for the call to come in but when it does you are never ready for it. “Daniel,” said the shaky voice of my Dad on the other end “Rhodes has been hurt but he’s ok”.

I often replay that September 2007 afternoon over and over in my mind when I think of my brother. I think of all his friends and comrades aboard the armored truck that didn’t make it when the truck did a nose-dive off a 40 ft bridge in Baghdad after encountering a road-side bomb or mechanical malfunction. Rhodes thought a lot about those boys too.

One friend in particular stood out in his mind. Sgt. Tell Gray. Tell had been home in North Carolina only 5 months prior to the “accident” that took his life. He was home for a very special occasion, the birth of he and his wife, Jessica’s, first child Ava Madison Gray. Tell was able to spend a couple of weeks with his new, gorgeous family but that was the last time he would ever see them on this earth.

After regaining strength in his crushed shoulder Rhodes began doing what any good Lieutenant would do, he began checking up on the families of those KIA. He was especially fond of the, by then, 7 month old Ava Madison, always making time to baby sit her so Jessica could go out with friends. He would even spend his weekends helping to tidy up around Jessica’s new house. It seemed strange for the first few months that Rhodes would want to spend so much time helping Jessica and Ava. But helping soon turned into loving and then we all understood.

Rhodes Roberts and Jessica Gray were united in marriage on Folly Beach, SC, just outside of Charleston, on May 16, 2009, an absolutely beautiful ceremony complete with a moving tribute to Tell.

I’m now back in Delhi, fresh off a 20 hour journey, and can only think that even though I’ve been blessed to see and do so much here in the last three months, the highlight of my trip to India has been a five day jaunt to the sunny beaches of South Carolina.

Observations

Being in a new and very different place one tends to notice their surroundings more. So, here are a few observations I’ve been able to make since being in Delhi.

Shopping carts here are much easier to use than those in America. The manufacturer didn’t stop after putting two caster wheels on the front. No sir, they attached two caster wheels to the back as well. It is so much easier to navigate the three 15 feet long aisles at the Morning Store grocery store when you have rear-wheel steering.

Cows love to hang around, and in, the dumpsters. With a huge shortage of grass where else would you go? There’s probably some healthy snacks down in there somewhere.

OSHA has NOT made it to Delhi yet. Check out my man here balancing himself more than 60 feet in the air waiting for the concrete bucket to be lowered to fill the column on this building being constructed next to our school.

Trimming your yard can be a full day’s work when scissors are your tool of choice.

Christmas can happen anytime during the year. If you’ll look closely you will see the words “Samaritan’s Purse” written on the boxes loaded onto this fine blue truck. Inside these larger boxes are all of the small shoeboxes many of you helped assemble at your churches last December for Operation Christmas Child. There are almost 1,000 shoe boxes on this truck getting ready to be delivered to children who may have never received a gift before in their life.

Small children are the cutest ever. Even the ones who have had to shave their heads for health reasons. Meet Neyha (girl on left) and Mukis (boy) dressed in their Easter best, the children of Gorelal, our faithful cook.

Children take prayer time very seriously.

The face of no-education is painful to look at. I caught my friend here peering thru the gate at our Dakshinpuri school center. The school is located inside the slum. I doubt this boy has ever been to school before.

Living in the slum would suck, period. This past week here is what was written about one of the slums we work with.

Dakshinpuri:

Dakshinpuri is a large slum community. The whole slum is a coalition of small, congested houses, narrow dirty lanes, improper drainage filled with garbage and defecation. The slum houses are without any windows and made of mud, brick or thatch. The streets are narrow and mostly just two feet wide. One side of this small path is the open drain which allows only one and half feet for walking. These winding mini streets are sometimes miles long leaving no escape route in case of fire or any other danger. People are supposed to use small toilet blocks constructed by the government on the outskirts of the slum with no proper water facility. The slum home situation is not conducive for positive upbringing. Parents often abuse the use of alcohol and drugs. With very few of them having any education of their own, they are not even able to make enough money to feed their precious children. The children are mostly neglected and do not have any knowledge of good hygiene, proper dressing, regularity and discipline that the children outside the slum are being taught.

And the final observation. Education, nutrition, health, and, most importantly, the Peace that passes all understanding can bring joy to the most destitute of situations. The smiles make it worth it all.

Daddy, are we rich?

What is generosity? Is it giving the kid at the front door $100 dollars because he is trying to reach his goal of $500 of fundraising for cancer research? Is it putting an extra $10 in the plate at church because we felt guilty when the pastor talked about tithing last week? Is it spending a Saturday every 6 months picking up trash along the roadside? Is it seeing the man sitting on the curb with his jar in front of him and dropping in all the loose change from our pockets?

All of these things are good, but are they generous? Could it be that generosity is loving others so much that we want to give our best, our first, what we've been so richly blessed with, to help or serve them, even when it means giving up some item of luxury in our own life to do so? Ok, so maybe you are thinking "it would be easy to apply that definition of generosity to my own life if I were rich, if I just had a little more". But what is rich? And when do I know that, after years of labor, I have finally reached ‘richness’ and can finally be a generous person? Is there a magic number of wealth accumulation when I can finally say “I am rich”? Is it $1 million? $500K? $10 million? Or could it be that today I decide “I am rich” because I make more money than 96% of the people in the world if my household income is $38,000 or more, or I have more food in the pantry than I will eat today, or because I can wear a different outfit everyday of the week and still have some outfits left over, or my employer gives me days off of work but still pays me for them, or I have an extra room in my house that no one has to sleep in, or my car, or cars, have their own houses that we call garages, or every week I have money left over from my paycheck so I take my family to a nice dinner and a movie? Today, and everyday from hereon, I am rich. Holy cow this is exciting! I never thought I would be rich, but today... April 6, 2009, I have have been blessed with more than I need, I'm rich! (Thank you Andy Stanley for that last line)

Let me introduce you to the very generous family I met on Thursday and was so fortunate to stay with for two nights. Their names are Antony, Shanti, and Nici. Antony is a teacher at the Good Samaritan School in the village of Issapur. He and his family, like many of the teachers at GSS, moved to Delhi, and surrounding areas, from southern India, passing up many higher paying jobs along the way so they could serve the underprivileged children here. Shanti is a housewife, preparing for baby #2, and Nici is their daughter who attends Kindergarten at GSS. Antony is rich. His teacher's salary is $250 per month. His house has two bedrooms, one of which doubles as the living room, dining room, and closet. The house also has a kitchen, a washroom, and a toilet room. The refrigerator has more food in it, though not much more, than Antony's family will eat today. The washroom is equipped with a faucet so that you can fill up the bucket on the floor when you get ready to take your “shower”, or “bucket shower” as it is more accurately named. The toilet is a hole in the floor, called a squat toilet, which leads to the above-ground sewer lines just outside the house. Antony’s house has a house for the school's “four-wheeler” (the 7 passenger van that picks up many of the kids who attend GSS in Issapur). A rich family indeed.

We hadn’t met Antony before Thursday. He only heard of our coming to stay with him the night before. We’re not sure what he might have had planned for his time with his family from Thursday to Saturday, but one thing was certain; when he heard Marshall and I were coming to visit he and his family were determined to show us love and generosity. They gave Marsall and I each our own bed while the three of them slept on one twin bed and a table with a quilt draped over it. Shortly after we arrived Antony noticed that the sheets and pillowcases on our beds were very old and worn so he quickly got on his motorcycle and drove to the next village to buy us new ones. They served us the very best food they had to offer, even making special trips to the next village during the day to purchase apples and bananas for us, but wouldn’t dare eat any themselves until they knew we had eaten everything we wanted. They apologized for the squat toilet and bucket shower because they thought it might be an inconvenience to us. They heated enough water on the stove to put in the shower bucket so we would have a warm shower, and then they quickly took their cold shower afterwards. They welcomed us with a love and generosity I have rarely seen on this earth.

How fortunate we were to meet this rich family. I can only pray I realize today and every day how rich I am as well. I have a bank account with more money in it than I need today. I threw away some food tonight because I was too full to eat it. I will take a hot shower in the morning after I sleep in my soft bed. Tomorrow I will wear different clothes than I wore today and if I’m lucky I will eat at least 3 meals. So now, Lord, help me to be generous with the riches and wealth You’ve blessed me with, always ready to give, and always willing to share.

“Command those who are rich in this present age not to be haughty, nor to trust in uncertain riches but in the living God, who gives us richly all things to enjoy. Let them do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to give, willing to share, storing up for themselves a good foundation for the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal life” 1 Timothy 6:17-19

Generosity can change a world. I look at the faces of hundreds of slum children each day and see how generosity is changing theirs. Someone's world is waiting to be changed right where you are today.

Marshall and Bablu

Some of our new friends.. Sibi is between us.. That's Antony holding Nici.

Marshall and I in Issapur with our first Cricket team, some future hall of famers.

Me with Nici... Can't believe we got her to stand still long enough to snap this.

The Path to School is Like a Box of Chocolates.. You Never Know What You're Going to Get

The 400 meter walk from our flat to the school can be uneventful or full of interesting happenings. Some days you may only see a group of children playing cricket in the nearby cow field/park, or only have 12 people stare at you, but then there are those special days when you see some pretty cool stuff.

Like the day we were walking home and saw 10 children making flat patties out of the cow poo they had piled into an enormous glob (see picture in my 2nd blog post), or the several mornings we see children relieving themselves (#2) only 2 feet off the road, or the morning we were almost ran over by some kids on a motorcycle intentionally steering their bike our way, or the morning we saw some ladies carrying the cow poo patties on top of their heads....

Then there are some days where we time it just right to see and/or be a part of the daily cow movement. As you may have heard cows are a little special around here. They are free to roam where they like, although we've been told they all have owners (I have yet to see an owner tending to their cows). And they absolutely roam where they like. We have a herd of about 18 or 20 that live near our flat. They are all black and look more like miniature Cape Buffalo from East Africa than they do cows. There is very, very, very little grass here so they mainly eat trash that has been thrown on the street. The other morning when we were out running we saw a huge white bull "grazing" inside of a dumpster... I mean all four legs up inside the dumpster...hhmmmm.....Anyways, back on subject, one special morning we got to see the cows cross the busy road in front of the school. They didn't wait on a traffic light, or look both ways before crossing. Strength in numbers baby. I'm just glad I had my camera.

The 400 meter walk is over before we know it and we enter the main gate into the Good Samaritan School, a very special place. Yes, the building is very nice compared to anything around it. The children who enter feel as though they have entered a new world. It's a place of Christ-centered academics where the "underprivileged are served by involving the privileged".

Taken from just inside the front gate.

After walking thru the front breezeway of the school, this is looking at the interior courtyard.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

And I thought Lancaster traffic could get hairy sometimes. Not sure where we were going (doesn't really matter because this story could be relative to any trip inside Delhi), but Bittoo, our driver was determined to get there in a hurry.

Let me back up and say that no matter where you are trying to get to in Delhi, it's always going to take between 30 min and 1 hour, unless it's between 7 and 9 PM, then it's going to take between 45 min and 1 1/2 hours.

Traffic is hilariously crazy. There are lines on the road, but they are only a suggestion and mainly a waste of paint. (We have determined they must have had road paint left over from painting lines in another city and decided to use said leftovers in Delhi)

The street layout for the city was thought about probably as long as it takes me to think whether or not PB&J would be a good choice for lunch. Side streets dart in and out. They come in to main roads at all different angles. Stop lights (few and far between) are never overhead, but usually on a post diagonal your position in the car. I rarely see them until we've already stopped.

Now to the vehicles.. So far as I can tell there are 9 main modes of transportation around the city. Walk, bicycle, bicycle rickshaw, auto rickshaw, motorcycle, car, big truck, bus, subway. Minus the subway, all said modes travel on the surface streets at precisely the same time.... and there are many, many, many of each. The goals of each: walkers: try to not get killed, and maybe stop and take a pee every once in a while; bicycles: same; bicycle rickshaw: see how much weight or volume in people or stuff one can get on the rickshaw and still be able to pedal. (i have seen several guys with loads so big they wouldn't fit in the bed of a pickup truck).. and .. try to not get killed (bicycle rics are very uncomfortable as Marshall and I found out this morning, but they're really cheap); auto rickshaw (3 wheels, prob a 20 horse motor): position the rickshaw at precisely the right spot on the road in cohorts with other auto rics so no other vehicle can pass; motorcycle: see how many times one can dart in and out of other moving vehicles and not die while attempting to get at least 2 people on the back of the motorcycle you are driving (we've seen as many as 4 on one bike; see pic below); car: some play defense, but most, like Bittoo, play a hard-charging game of offense, using every square inch of the road, and sometimes the sidewalk; big trucks: get in the way; busses: see just how many people you can fit in there; subway: not sure, I've only seen one entrance to the subway..... and finally.. the overall goal of every mode of transportation except walkers and the subway: set the world record in number of times horn is blown before arriving at destination.

Yes, that's a ladder with two men on a motorcycle.

Self-explanatory..... photo by Marshall (he made me put that)

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Bittoo is feeling rather bold on this particular day. He darts from one side of the road to the other, passing 14 cars in one felt swoop. He honks the horn at least once every 8 seconds. (I will write a blog later on citing the different uses of the horn.) We come within inches, no, centimeters, of taking out a man and woman on a motorcycle. Then we almost rub tires with another car... then we repeat that scenario 33 times over the next 1 mile.

We come to a stop at a stoplight behind a long line of traffic. We are all the way to the left on the street, about 150 yards from the light. A little girl comes to our window on the sidewalk side and asks us to watch her do flips on the concrete. We are admiring her talent when Bittoo decides he's waited long enough on this light. As the girl is in mid flip, he throws it in gear, lays on the gas and pops up on the sidewalk, missing the girl by 3 1/2 inches. He races up through the gears as we blow by every car waiting at the red light, times it perfectly to hit the street just as the light turns green, and comes out as the lead car in the pack of at least 250.

Only a mile up the road we see that we are going be at the tail end of another long line of traffic waiting at a light, so Bittoo puts his quick-thinking-cap on and rolls the Qualis in behind a bus as it enters the "bus only" lane to by-pass bad traffic spots. The "bus only" lanes are separated from the street by a curb and are guarded at the entrance by men with guns. We ride the bus lane for 1 to 2 miles by-passing car after car after car.. We even go through a bus pick-up station... Then we come out at another light in the lead once again.

We arrive (wherever it was we were going)..... alive.......Bittoo "007" Bond has struck............again................ whewwwww ... just another day in paradise.