Sunday in India

Tomorrow is Monday and, sadly, departure day for me from India. Linda and I are driving 3 hours to Coimbatore and then catch a flight on to Mumbai, then the States.

Every trip to India is different, different experiences, different insights. A few days ago I attended a church dedication. The pastor, a young man, came to this remote rural village and started meeting with people, mostly old ladies, in their homes. A small group of believers developed. The pastor stayed with one of the families for a couple years. He felt as though God had called him to this specific area. As the months progressed, one of the old ladies told the young man that she wanted to see a church built before she died. She gave him her entire hidden treasure, saved over many years, 10,000 rupees (about $260) to purchase the land. The pastor continued to pray for the exact location where God wanted the church to be built. One small tract of land, not on a main road, and some distance off a side road, could be bought. The pastor did not want that particular land. He wanted to be on the main road. However, the more remote parcel did not sell. Some villagers came to the young Christian pastor and said, "We have been asking our gods to built a temple on that spot, but they have not answered. You should go ahead and build your church there. Do it quickly." Seems like that is where God wanted the church to be built.

IGL provides the money for the block, materials, for the Life Center Church. The villagers must provide the land and the labor. The church was built and on the day of the dedication the house was packed. A church expansion program must soon be undertaken.

I noticed one little boy in the front row fidgeting as the offering was about to be taken. He kept looking at his mom a few rows back on the aisle. He went back to her and apparently got some money from her for the offering. She kept giving him looks, as if she either wanted to keep the money or put it in the offering herself. He reluctantly went back to her and gave her back the money. I caught his eyes and motioned him up to me on the platform where the "honored guests" were seated. Only God knows why I was seated there. He came up to me and I slipped him 100 rupees. He smiled. Instead of going back to sit in his seat he skipped to the back of the small church where the offering was being collected and dropped the offering in the bag, then returning to his seat. He could not wait to give. Immediately he began elbowing his friend next to him to put something in the offering as the usher approached. The friend had no offering. The offering bag passed them and the usher came up on the platform to pass the bag in front of the honored guests. I reached out my arm in front of the usher, stopping him. I motioned to the other boy to come up to me. He did and I gave him 50 rupees which he joyously, promptly dropping it in the bag. His friend sat, vicariously beaming. I gave these boys a total of 150 rupees, less than 4 dollars. They gave me a lesson in giving.

My college boys are awesome, like sponges soaking up whatever we teach. They are from rural India pursuing education in DTP (Desk Top Publishing) or Med Tech. A couple of the boys had been sick, one on Tuesday and then one on Thursday. Yesterday I asked a boy if everyone was ok. Deepan said "No, not ok." I looked at him and said "Oh, are you not feeling well today?" He put his fingers to his eyes and slowly slid them down as if crying. "I am sad." He was not sick, not physically sick, just sick at heart that I was leaving. I am sick too.

Yesterday Karen, Linda and I went to Vishranthi to visit Archana again. She ran to us with glee. When I pick her up she lays he head on my shoulder as if feeling secure. We learned that her father (who had abandoned her) remarried. He then came to see Archana and took her to his home for a "visit." She did not return. Sheila and Manuel, the superintendent couple managing the orphanage, went looking. They drove several hours to the village where the man lived and asked where he could be found. They went to his house. The new wife of Archana's "father" had enslaved her. She was now a servant. Sheila said, "She needs to study, become educated. Don't you want to be proud of her?" The new wife wanted to keep Archana there. Manuel asked Archana, "Do you want to stay here or go with us?" "Go with you," was the softly uttered response. They took her back to the orphanage. There will be no more home visits. The father can come to see Archana if he cares to do so. Manuel asked me to speak to her. I needed no urging. "Archana, please stay here so we can find you when we come to India. We need to know where you are. We love you very much and Manuel and Sheila do too." She beamed.

On Friday, our last day of teaching, we gave the 90 or so students a little party.....some cold drinks, chips, cookies, candy. They never get it. So grateful. A joyous time...for the students, for the teachers, for us. We bought them some sports equipment, cricket stuff for the boys, badminton for the girls, and some soccer balls. Karen and Linda gave the girls bands for their hair. I bought each of the boys a wrist band. When we first arrived we learned that the male teacher, Sir, did not have enough books for his Med Tech class. They had to share books. We bought more immediately so everyone would have a book. I wish we could do more, give more, serve more, have more to give.

Tomorrow morning we leave. Karen stays to work in the IGL offices. How did I get here? What has happened in my life? America seems so far away. I was thinking the other day as I paid $95 for a Santa-like bag of sports equipment.....an amount that casually I spend on a nice dinner out with Karen. Occasionally I spend that on one bottle of wine. God has blessed me. I must bless others. We told the community college students upon leaving that they, too, must now be givers. They will have education. They will earn. They will have a life. They must now give back. I bet they will outpace me. I pray not.

Yours from India,
Martin