Hardship
Somedays I am not sure that the Father sent me to India for the Indians as much as maybe He sent me to India to refine me.
I moved this week.
I wanted to move.
I had been asking the Father for more opportunities, more ways to get involved and be closer to the people, a place that I could open up my home and reach the lost more easily.
I asked for it.
He answered.
He gave me just what I asked for.
This move is one of the hardest things I have experienced since coming to India.
I have lost all around me. EVERYWHERE I look.
I am not in the secluded location I was on the other side of the mountain with minimal neighbors and few people around me.
Here every time I step foot outside my house I am surrounded by people staring at me, asking questions, peering in my windows, walking unannounced into my home, opening my cupboards, picking up all my personal belongings.
They want to know who I am.
They want to know what I have to offer them.
Saturday as I moved my belongings into my new house, two "Gurati's" approached me asking for money, they tried to touch my head and give me their "blessing". I ducked and said no, and walked away. I was reminded of the darkness that is here in this land.
It's hard!
In my new house, I hear the Bud*hist prayer flags flapping in the wind and am reminded of their pointless search for meaning in their traditions and practices.
I hear the voices of children and families playing and working all around me.
I hear the horns honking and constant banging of construction and road work late into the night.
I hear the Mu$lim and Hind* calls to worship.
I hear the chants of the neighbors to their gods.
I hear the drums of the nearby wedding beat loudly into the night.
I lay awake and think He gave me just what I asked for.
It's hard!
My new landlords explain their rituals and beliefs about the different Hind* gods. Their home is filled with many different statues all with the hope of the gift that god has to offer, it's specialty.
My neighbors come to my house daily. At 3:00 when they come home from school they invite themselves in. At 9:00 when I am headed to bed, they invite themselves in. At 11:00 when I really was hoping to be asleep and am in my pajama's they invite themselves in. At 12:00 midnight when I am exhausted they tell me of their stories, their losses, their desires. The door opens and I see why the Father has placed me here. I hear him remind me of the call, of the unreached, of the need, of the hope founded in Him. I hear him speak to my heart, "this is why you are here".
This is what I wanted, bur it's hard!
I wanted to be close to the people.
I wanted to live communally.
Why does it have to be so hard?
My neighbors come back at 6:00am knocking on the door, they come throughout the day asking for things, and simply just wanting to talk. I am an independent, non-communal individual from the Cold NorthEast of America. We don't really do communal in NY state. What was I thinking asking for Dad to place me closer to the people? Sometimes I wonder if it's too hard for me?
Selflessness, Humility, Chr**t-likeness, Love? I read 1 Cor. 13 and I think I am far from any of those things. I cry out Father help me!
I think true love often requires sacrifice. We love because He first loved us and gave Himself up for us. He sacrificed His own life, own way, and own son, that we might know love. The Word says, they will know us by our love.
When my neighbor comes to my door, I want to love her like Je*u*. When her son smells so bad I can hardly breath to be around him, I want to love him like Je$u*. When my house is freshly cleaned and my other neighbor comes in with filthy feet and puts them on my couch, I want to love him like Je*sus. When I am tired and just needing sleep, and the sounds of this country ring out loud and clear...I want my intercession to ring out louder and clearer with the voice of love.
When it's hard, I want to remember that "I can count it all as loss in comparison with knowing him".
When it's hard, I want to remember "obedience is better than sacrifice".
When it's hard, I want to remember that Love sacrificed Himself for me, and made a way.
I want to remember that and be filled up in that love.
I want it to abound and share it with others.
I want it to come from the overflow of my heart, and not just a religio*s spirit of "I should do this".
As I ask you to pr* for the darkness of India and the lost.
I also ask you to pr* for the part of me that hasn't conformed to love. Pr* I would be consumed by His love, transformed more and more, and that the Father would strip me of myself, my attitudes and desires, and make me more like Him. Pr* for love to be revealed to the lost and for those who do not yet know to have experiential encounters with Love himself.
I moved this week.
I wanted to move.
I had been asking the Father for more opportunities, more ways to get involved and be closer to the people, a place that I could open up my home and reach the lost more easily.
I asked for it.
He answered.
He gave me just what I asked for.
This move is one of the hardest things I have experienced since coming to India.
I have lost all around me. EVERYWHERE I look.
I am not in the secluded location I was on the other side of the mountain with minimal neighbors and few people around me.
Here every time I step foot outside my house I am surrounded by people staring at me, asking questions, peering in my windows, walking unannounced into my home, opening my cupboards, picking up all my personal belongings.
They want to know who I am.
They want to know what I have to offer them.
Saturday as I moved my belongings into my new house, two "Gurati's" approached me asking for money, they tried to touch my head and give me their "blessing". I ducked and said no, and walked away. I was reminded of the darkness that is here in this land.
It's hard!
In my new house, I hear the Bud*hist prayer flags flapping in the wind and am reminded of their pointless search for meaning in their traditions and practices.
I hear the voices of children and families playing and working all around me.
I hear the horns honking and constant banging of construction and road work late into the night.
I hear the Mu$lim and Hind* calls to worship.
I hear the chants of the neighbors to their gods.
I hear the drums of the nearby wedding beat loudly into the night.
I lay awake and think He gave me just what I asked for.
It's hard!
My new landlords explain their rituals and beliefs about the different Hind* gods. Their home is filled with many different statues all with the hope of the gift that god has to offer, it's specialty.
My neighbors come to my house daily. At 3:00 when they come home from school they invite themselves in. At 9:00 when I am headed to bed, they invite themselves in. At 11:00 when I really was hoping to be asleep and am in my pajama's they invite themselves in. At 12:00 midnight when I am exhausted they tell me of their stories, their losses, their desires. The door opens and I see why the Father has placed me here. I hear him remind me of the call, of the unreached, of the need, of the hope founded in Him. I hear him speak to my heart, "this is why you are here".
This is what I wanted, bur it's hard!
I wanted to be close to the people.
I wanted to live communally.
Why does it have to be so hard?
My neighbors come back at 6:00am knocking on the door, they come throughout the day asking for things, and simply just wanting to talk. I am an independent, non-communal individual from the Cold NorthEast of America. We don't really do communal in NY state. What was I thinking asking for Dad to place me closer to the people? Sometimes I wonder if it's too hard for me?
Selflessness, Humility, Chr**t-likeness, Love? I read 1 Cor. 13 and I think I am far from any of those things. I cry out Father help me!
I think true love often requires sacrifice. We love because He first loved us and gave Himself up for us. He sacrificed His own life, own way, and own son, that we might know love. The Word says, they will know us by our love.
When my neighbor comes to my door, I want to love her like Je*u*. When her son smells so bad I can hardly breath to be around him, I want to love him like Je$u*. When my house is freshly cleaned and my other neighbor comes in with filthy feet and puts them on my couch, I want to love him like Je*sus. When I am tired and just needing sleep, and the sounds of this country ring out loud and clear...I want my intercession to ring out louder and clearer with the voice of love.
When it's hard, I want to remember that "I can count it all as loss in comparison with knowing him".
When it's hard, I want to remember "obedience is better than sacrifice".
When it's hard, I want to remember that "inasmuch as I participate in the sufferings of Chri$*, I can also be overjoyed when His glory is revealed.
When it's hard, I want to remember "I can know the power of His resurrection and participation in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death."
When it's hard, I want to remember "I can do all things through Him that gives me strength".
When it's hard, I want to remember "Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance....Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love".
When it's hard, I want to remember "I can know the power of His resurrection and participation in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death."
When it's hard, I want to remember "I can do all things through Him that gives me strength".
When it's hard, I want to remember "Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance....Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love".
When it's hard, I want to remember that Love sacrificed Himself for me, and made a way.
I want to remember that and be filled up in that love.
I want it to abound and share it with others.
I want it to come from the overflow of my heart, and not just a religio*s spirit of "I should do this".
As I ask you to pr* for the darkness of India and the lost.
I also ask you to pr* for the part of me that hasn't conformed to love. Pr* I would be consumed by His love, transformed more and more, and that the Father would strip me of myself, my attitudes and desires, and make me more like Him. Pr* for love to be revealed to the lost and for those who do not yet know to have experiential encounters with Love himself.
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