The conditions for many in India are horrifying. Aside from the daily chaos of intense heat and humidity, incredible overcrowding (India, at approximate 1/3 the size of the US, has 1/6 of the world's population, and will soon eclipse China as the most populous nation on earth), and a general absence of local infrastructure, there is much more. In the process of writing my posts here, I'm sure I'll include many specific stories. For the purposes of overview, however, I will just say that much of what we saw - and saw practically everywhere we went - was heartbreaking.
Before I left, and during my trip, I prayed to have a soft heart. I prayed that my heart would be available for breaking as I saw all there was to see. Even in such extremity, the potential was definitely there to become "used to it" and to not truly see all that was around us. Much of it was astounding. All of it was humbling. As our trip progressed, however, I was more and more convinced of how much hope there is in the work of the ministries we visited. One of last nights there, we sat and listened to children, no older than 13 or 14, tell their stories and give their testimonies of the faithfulness of God. These are children who'd been living on the street, subjected to every horror imaginable...often again and again.
Freddy & Daisy are the amazing couple who run this home (as well as an astounding ministry throughout the local streets & slum villages). With the rescued kids, they & their staff put specific energy into working on forgiveness; they know it's a necessary component of peacefulness.
One girl got up to tell her story and even as I prepare to type this out, my heart is swelling with emotion. She was 13 years old, and her name was Prithi (pree-thee. Prithi had been raised for the first years of her life as a Muslim, by her mother who was a prostitute. Prithi's mother left for an extended time to work in Dubai, and left her daughter in the care of her pimp. The pimp quickly began selling Prithi into sexual slavery. She was only a child. At a certain point, Prithi was gang-raped and violated in such ways that she was left unable to walk. Eventually, she was taken to the hospital. It was explained to us that it was unknown (read: surprising) why the pimp took her to the hospital, but "probably he didn't want to lose her as a worker, and was afraid she would die." This was how badly she was injured in the course of her assault.
While in the hospital, Prithi's mother was summoned, but did not want to allow this Children's Home to take guardianship of her daughter. The mother asserted that she didn't believe that her "husband" (the pimp) would betray her daughter in this way, and that was supposed to be the final word on the matter. The sad news is that I'm certain Prithi's story is not unique, and for many young women, that may be the end of the story. However, over the time of her hospital recovery, Prithi convinced a doctor to assist her, and the doctor helped Prithi to convince her mother to release Prithi into the care of the home. The doctor was a friend of Daisy's, and contact her about giving Prithi a chance at a new life. Eventually, the mother signed the appropriate waivers, and Prithi was taken to the Restoration Home.
As I listened to her speak, it was amazing to think that she'd lived through what she was describing. I didn't need the translator's help to understand clearly that her life was very different now from the conditions she described as her past. Although the home is a Christian one, upon arriving Prithi was allowed to continue with her Muslim practices. She soon started to see, however, that the others around her - many of whom had lived through similar painful circumstances - had a type of peace and hope she did not feel herself. Eventually, she put away her Koran, and began reading the Bible. As she said in her testimony, "although she did not have a mom or dad now, she now knew that she had a Father who would never leave her.” She explained, with absolute humility and simple grace that she had come to know Jesus, and that He had helped her to forgive the people who had harmed her.
Prithi had literally lived the types of horrors I usually think of when I think of my own problems and remind myself that "it could be worse." My "worse" was her story, and watching her speak, it was evident that she carried within her a Spirit of peace and rest. She had a light in her face, and gentleness in her presence that I have learned to recognize as the Holy Spirit's signature. She was okay. And better than okay, she was restored.
After living for the next few years in the home, she will have a Christian marriage arranged for her (as is Indian custom), and she will wear white. She will be a pure bride, wiped clean of the filth she knew by a Father who, she's right, will never leave her.
My understanding, as Daisy elaborated on her story later, is that she still has physical illnesses and scars for which she needs regular treatment. Her body, as all ours are, is broken in ways that will not perhaps be healed in this life. But her heart was redeemed and her life is being transformed. Prithi was transforming before my very eyes.
Do you know how long she'd been in the home? About 6 months, if memory serves. In less than 1/2 a year's time, she had gone from a wounded victim to a healing and peaceful child of the One true God. She started her testimony with, "I want to give Glory to God." It was her explanation for why she wanted to share her story (many others began their stories the same way). As I listened, I though that simply by standing there, her inner-radiance apparent, she spoke volumes about God, about who He is, and what it is that He is truly all about.
I went to India afraid. Afraid of the things I would see there, afraid of how it would hurt inside me. And I did hurt. I saw things, many things, that made me cry. I will (I pray) always hurt for India. However, I was reminded early in my trip to keep my focus on the God I serve. From the beginning, He has been a God of Redemption, of re-creation and of faithful restoration. He is the Lord of Transformation, and He restores. It is for this reason that I did not leave India wounded by my journey.
I left profoundly aware of the darkness there, and the need for His healing hand, but even more profound for me was a sense of awe, and of hope, inspired by witnessing first hand the way in which this amazing God steps into the blackest and thickest of darkness and draws out His light from within our own hearts. His heart, I am beyond convinced, is one of compassion and adoration for each and every man, woman and child suffering through life. I had moments there where I could practically see Jesus next to me, weeping for the desecration of one of His precious children. I also had moments, though, in which I wept - moved by the evidence of that which one's heart seems to always hope for...at least mine does... a child lost in darkness is never lost forever. A spirit tarnished, damaged and abused by the fallen world in which we live is never far from His own heart. He is not only present, He is powerful. And seeing living proof, again and again, of His heart's passion and love for these seemingly forgotten children is the reason I left India blessed, humbled, inspired and awash with new gratitude.
I prayed throughout the trip to see these people the way God does. I saw people broken apparently tossed aside by a world that didn't seem all that interested in caring for them. I saw people, children split into pieces by what was the basic reality of their daily lives. What I also saw, though, was light and love and powerful, powerful transformation. "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost." I praise Him for exactly that. It's a story of Redemption, and it was an honor to see it being lived out in so many obvious ways.
As I left my cozy life in Kansas City, fearing what I might see, I went determined to help. I have returned, however, to a life that is just as cozy as when I left it...and we did help. It is good for the soul to do the work of coming alongside. But, more than that, I was helped. Prithi helped me. Freddy & Daisy helped me. The countless others we saw, and the stories I heard helped me. Faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see. I'm excited to say that, after this point, I now have a whole new level of things to hope for that are yet unseen. For I have now seen some of those things I'd only hoped for before. I am forever changed. And grateful beyond what words can convey.
While in the hospital, Prithi's mother was summoned, but did not want to allow this Children's Home to take guardianship of her daughter. The mother asserted that she didn't believe that her "husband" (the pimp) would betray her daughter in this way, and that was supposed to be the final word on the matter. The sad news is that I'm certain Prithi's story is not unique, and for many young women, that may be the end of the story. However, over the time of her hospital recovery, Prithi convinced a doctor to assist her, and the doctor helped Prithi to convince her mother to release Prithi into the care of the home. The doctor was a friend of Daisy's, and contact her about giving Prithi a chance at a new life. Eventually, the mother signed the appropriate waivers, and Prithi was taken to the Restoration Home.
As I listened to her speak, it was amazing to think that she'd lived through what she was describing. I didn't need the translator's help to understand clearly that her life was very different now from the conditions she described as her past. Although the home is a Christian one, upon arriving Prithi was allowed to continue with her Muslim practices. She soon started to see, however, that the others around her - many of whom had lived through similar painful circumstances - had a type of peace and hope she did not feel herself. Eventually, she put away her Koran, and began reading the Bible. As she said in her testimony, "although she did not have a mom or dad now, she now knew that she had a Father who would never leave her.” She explained, with absolute humility and simple grace that she had come to know Jesus, and that He had helped her to forgive the people who had harmed her.
Prithi had literally lived the types of horrors I usually think of when I think of my own problems and remind myself that "it could be worse." My "worse" was her story, and watching her speak, it was evident that she carried within her a Spirit of peace and rest. She had a light in her face, and gentleness in her presence that I have learned to recognize as the Holy Spirit's signature. She was okay. And better than okay, she was restored.
After living for the next few years in the home, she will have a Christian marriage arranged for her (as is Indian custom), and she will wear white. She will be a pure bride, wiped clean of the filth she knew by a Father who, she's right, will never leave her.
My understanding, as Daisy elaborated on her story later, is that she still has physical illnesses and scars for which she needs regular treatment. Her body, as all ours are, is broken in ways that will not perhaps be healed in this life. But her heart was redeemed and her life is being transformed. Prithi was transforming before my very eyes.
Do you know how long she'd been in the home? About 6 months, if memory serves. In less than 1/2 a year's time, she had gone from a wounded victim to a healing and peaceful child of the One true God. She started her testimony with, "I want to give Glory to God." It was her explanation for why she wanted to share her story (many others began their stories the same way). As I listened, I though that simply by standing there, her inner-radiance apparent, she spoke volumes about God, about who He is, and what it is that He is truly all about.
I went to India afraid. Afraid of the things I would see there, afraid of how it would hurt inside me. And I did hurt. I saw things, many things, that made me cry. I will (I pray) always hurt for India. However, I was reminded early in my trip to keep my focus on the God I serve. From the beginning, He has been a God of Redemption, of re-creation and of faithful restoration. He is the Lord of Transformation, and He restores. It is for this reason that I did not leave India wounded by my journey.
I left profoundly aware of the darkness there, and the need for His healing hand, but even more profound for me was a sense of awe, and of hope, inspired by witnessing first hand the way in which this amazing God steps into the blackest and thickest of darkness and draws out His light from within our own hearts. His heart, I am beyond convinced, is one of compassion and adoration for each and every man, woman and child suffering through life. I had moments there where I could practically see Jesus next to me, weeping for the desecration of one of His precious children. I also had moments, though, in which I wept - moved by the evidence of that which one's heart seems to always hope for...at least mine does... a child lost in darkness is never lost forever. A spirit tarnished, damaged and abused by the fallen world in which we live is never far from His own heart. He is not only present, He is powerful. And seeing living proof, again and again, of His heart's passion and love for these seemingly forgotten children is the reason I left India blessed, humbled, inspired and awash with new gratitude.
I prayed throughout the trip to see these people the way God does. I saw people broken apparently tossed aside by a world that didn't seem all that interested in caring for them. I saw people, children split into pieces by what was the basic reality of their daily lives. What I also saw, though, was light and love and powerful, powerful transformation. "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost." I praise Him for exactly that. It's a story of Redemption, and it was an honor to see it being lived out in so many obvious ways.
As I left my cozy life in Kansas City, fearing what I might see, I went determined to help. I have returned, however, to a life that is just as cozy as when I left it...and we did help. It is good for the soul to do the work of coming alongside. But, more than that, I was helped. Prithi helped me. Freddy & Daisy helped me. The countless others we saw, and the stories I heard helped me. Faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see. I'm excited to say that, after this point, I now have a whole new level of things to hope for that are yet unseen. For I have now seen some of those things I'd only hoped for before. I am forever changed. And grateful beyond what words can convey.
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