It is 6:18 AM on Thursday in India
The children love us. Many want to shake our hands. Adults come to their doors and stand on the road and watch us walk past. It is already hot and humid and we are all wet with sweat by the time we arrive at the school at about 7:30am. The first group of Children, the younger group is already there, as are the pastor's wife, and the two young male teachers. The children are in two groups facing in different directions in the room and sitting on an orange tarp in neat rows. They all have some type of backpack or bag for their books. All of the bags are old and say things like "Spiderman" or "Tom and Jerry".
The room is hot and humid with only two fans moving around the warm air. Not being used to this climate, our team is soon wet with sweat, some more than other. Today we work on identifying the parts of the body in English, the ABC's, and other things using songs and movement. I seem to sweat more than the rest of the team and soon I am drenched with sweat and standing in a puddle.
Today we also are helping the children make and decorate foam photo frames from supplies we brought with us. We also took all of their pictures and they will put them in the frame. It is our gift to them. Christy tells a Bible story through an interpreter and we all do the Hokie-Pokie, more sweat.
The second, older group comes in right after the first. We work with them, as we can, on various subjects, also do the picture frames, and the Hokie-Pokie, more sweat. As both groups of children pack up to leave my heart swells with emotion. This is our last day at the school, but not the last in the village, but the last time we will see some and the last time as a group. As they pack up we look at the faces. It is our hope that because of the efforts of the Church, we will see these faces in heaven. I look at the faces as long as I can and pray, asking God to work in these young hearts and draw them to Himself. I try to memorize these young faces so someday I will recognize them in heaven.
We pack up 13 people in a small SUV that will comfortably seat nine to go to lunch. The truck is overloaded and the transmission whines and now, the steering is also whining. We go to a local mall for lunch and enjoy food and fellowship with our host. On the way out we purchase 27 bottles of water and the security guard walks up to me and started asking me questions. Nobody was there to interpret so I wasn’t sure what I had done wrong. I was trying to remember if I had a copy of my passport with me and I was hoping I wasn’t in trouble. Our driver rescued me and told me that they were upset that I was carrying my own water bottles. They had a young man carry them to the car for me even though I was about three times his size. I asked our guide about the situation and he said that they view us as there guest and want to take care of us.
The children love us. Many want to shake our hands. Adults come to their doors and stand on the road and watch us walk past. It is already hot and humid and we are all wet with sweat by the time we arrive at the school at about 7:30am. The first group of Children, the younger group is already there, as are the pastor's wife, and the two young male teachers. The children are in two groups facing in different directions in the room and sitting on an orange tarp in neat rows. They all have some type of backpack or bag for their books. All of the bags are old and say things like "Spiderman" or "Tom and Jerry".
The room is hot and humid with only two fans moving around the warm air. Not being used to this climate, our team is soon wet with sweat, some more than other. Today we work on identifying the parts of the body in English, the ABC's, and other things using songs and movement. I seem to sweat more than the rest of the team and soon I am drenched with sweat and standing in a puddle.
Today we also are helping the children make and decorate foam photo frames from supplies we brought with us. We also took all of their pictures and they will put them in the frame. It is our gift to them. Christy tells a Bible story through an interpreter and we all do the Hokie-Pokie, more sweat.
The second, older group comes in right after the first. We work with them, as we can, on various subjects, also do the picture frames, and the Hokie-Pokie, more sweat. As both groups of children pack up to leave my heart swells with emotion. This is our last day at the school, but not the last in the village, but the last time we will see some and the last time as a group. As they pack up we look at the faces. It is our hope that because of the efforts of the Church, we will see these faces in heaven. I look at the faces as long as I can and pray, asking God to work in these young hearts and draw them to Himself. I try to memorize these young faces so someday I will recognize them in heaven.
We pack up 13 people in a small SUV that will comfortably seat nine to go to lunch. The truck is overloaded and the transmission whines and now, the steering is also whining. We go to a local mall for lunch and enjoy food and fellowship with our host. On the way out we purchase 27 bottles of water and the security guard walks up to me and started asking me questions. Nobody was there to interpret so I wasn’t sure what I had done wrong. I was trying to remember if I had a copy of my passport with me and I was hoping I wasn’t in trouble. Our driver rescued me and told me that they were upset that I was carrying my own water bottles. They had a young man carry them to the car for me even though I was about three times his size. I asked our guide about the situation and he said that they view us as there guest and want to take care of us.
After lunch the women held a sewing clinic and then a Henna demonstration while Bill and I Prayer walked the village with our guide, and one of the young men, who we are working with. The people want to see us. Some want to shake our hands. We stopped and prayed and they came in close around us. They want to hear what we are saying. I was very touched when one of the young male teachers began to pray in Bengali. It is not popular here to be a Christian and this young man (about 23) boldly professes the name of Christ. As we walked he shared his testimony. What an amazing and Godly young man. We call him and his best friend our young and mighty warriors for the Lord. Bill says that when he grows up he wants to be like them. I agree. Lord, give us a faith like his!
The ladies were able to share with the women of the village as they sewed and did Henna with them. I believe that I heard that three women had professed faith in Jesus Christ. After the sewing clinic Cheryl conducted a Henna clinic with the local women. The Henna picture that is used in the clinic is based upon the Biblical story of the woman at the well and the story is shared with the women as the design is painted. Henna painting will be used by the disciples of the church as part of their evangelistic effort using depictions of gospel messages.
The medical clinic was supposed to be from 5pm to 7pm but went from 5pm to about 9pm. During the clinic I had the opportunity to share the gospel, through an interpretor, with two brothers who are Hindu. The people here are very willing to talk with you about God. There are no atheists here. People of the Hindu faith have no problem with Jesus. They do not even have a problem with Him being God. It is just to them, He is just one of many gods, with a little “g”. A man here told me that there are over 300 million Hindu gods. The problem seems to be with them accepting Jesus as the one true God. The pastor we are working with, always calls Jesus the living God when he speaks or preaches. I believe that he is trying to firmly establish a contract between the God he worships and the gods they worship, gods made by human hands, of straw, clay, plastic, or plaster. During the medical clinic we got to witness a ritual at the Hindi temple across the road from the school. A woman was performing a ritual where she put the plaster and straw gods to bed. All during the ritual several of us stood outside and prayed that God would reduce the power and influence of that temple in the village but changing the hearts of the people. We are praying that the temple would go away and that the building would become part of the school.
We came home tired but blessed and looking forward to some rest time in the morning. Please keep praying for us.
God Bless, from the India
