Out of the Ashes

I got to visit Kolkata recently.   Kolkata was like breathing again to be in that city! I love Kolkata so much! I got to go to the girls home and see Ambika the lady I worked with for a few months in 2009, as well as to see some of the ladies. It was so great. Some of the ladies I worked with in the past in the red light district were now working in the vocational unit, a place where they now make bags and blankets that are sold to provide their income. I was asked to share a devotional that day, and it was just such a refreshing blessing.  Some of the ladies I remember meeting in the past in the Brothels, some of them their daughters in the home of hope.  One women, I remembered immediately and almost began crying.  She, her mother, and youngest daughter were in the brothels the first time I met her in 2004.  Her older 3 daughters had recently moved and were in the safe home. This was the year the Father spoke to me and asked me to give money to an older women

                          There have been numerous prophecies and such that this city I am in will be the birth of a new revival here in India.  It’s not by chance that this was also the same city that the Baptis* of the Holy Spirit first fell in Asia.  Dad is surely working here on this “hill”.  At just over 9, 800 feet above sea level, we are secluded, but also have numerous unrea*hed people groups at our finger tips. There are over 100 house ch* in Mussoorie alone. For the last 12 years, these ch* have been working together to reach the mountains and surrounding Un*eached areas.  They have faced many threats and opposition, but now s*lvation, open doors, and b*ptisms are taking place. We often have visitors from the villages come and stay with us for a few days and seek encouragement before moving on again. We get to hear their stories and pr* with them. This week was no different. We had a family come. The husband had deaf and dumb spir

Cultural adjustment, learning the language, and making a new norm in India are still very much a reality for me even after 5 months. I had some groceries delivered today. The servant or helper man that delivers the groceries is called a coolie. This is the name for anyone that helps shop keepers, does deliveries, etc.  I have found having groceries delivered saves time and money. It takes about 30 minutes to walk down the market to the closest market, and then of course time to find what you need and then about an hour plus to walk back UP the mountain.  With groceries that is very hard work because of the steep climb. So usually it means hiring a taxi to come back up the mountain which is about 300-400 ruppees ($6-$8). If I have groceries delivered, it only costs me 100 ruppees, less than $2. So today, I called for an order and when the man came I tried to explain to him that he could have the change of the bill as his tip. This of course was hard because I don’t know how to say cha

WOW, water is so essential- in so many ways.  This week I have been impacted thinking of clean water and the life it brings. This past week I had early morning classes. I would go to pr* group at 6:00 and then walk to meet my Hindi tutor from 7:30-9:30am and then onto class.  Walking early in the morning to meet my tutor meant seeing the village come to the pump for water.  They bring their buckets and jugs and collect water for the day. This is their drinking water, bathing water, cooking and cleaning water. Whatever they collect is for the day. The water only comes on and last from about 7:15-7:40.  The whole village is there.  You can image the line, the jugs, the NEED for water.  You can image the urgency to be first in line and to hope the water supply lasts until YOUR jug is filled. My tutor was one of the ones that must collect her supply.  One day I waited with her in line as she awaited her turn. One women kept budging the line and filled her “flower pot” jug. Others

Dad is opening so many incredible doors, even where I am not seeking or looking, the doors seem to be flinging wide open. Open conversations and opportunities are almost daily being presented. Time to share my story of receiving life and Dad’s work in me.  Time for requesting help from the Father with those in need.  It’s incredible.  Last week I had the opportunity to visit 3 different people who were sick and ask for healing. I asked my Hindi tutor to help me learn a few new phrases that would help me to talk to Dad with others.  Just after leaving my tutor while walking on the road, a random stranger stopped me, told me she was in pain, and we were able to ask the Father for healing together. Some days as I walk down the street I am reminded that there are so many here that although Dad has opened the doors for conversation and sharing my heart and trust in the King, STILL they are dying and going to the pit. I am reminded, they still don’t know Him, and if they die to