Out of the Ashes

Breakthrough!   It’s happening everywhere I look it seems. I have been meeting with a woman, B, for some time. She has been someone the Father laid on my heart from the first moth I arrived.   You may remember her initial from other times I have asked for prayer for her. We have been meeting the past 5 months to intentionally seek God together and grow in our relationship with Him. B says she senses peace when she meets with my friend and I, and she always says she can’t wait to come back the next week.   While we discuss scripture and things we feel God is speaking to us, B often says she doesn’t hear God speak to her. You see, B is not yet a follower of JC, but she does believe in Him.   Recently, she has been “testing out” the name of JC, as we have talked to her about the power in His name alone. She believes all gods are one. (Shiv, Bugvan, all the other millions of Hindu gods, and JC are all the same to her.) We have had very pointed conversations with her that we believe o

_________________________________________________________________________________ The Bystander Effect is a psychological term that refers to the phenomenon in which the greater the number of people present in an emergency, the less likely people are to help a person in distress.   They standby and expect someone else to go and help.   All the while, others are doing the same and no one helps the person in distress. I stood on the brink of a flooded river, the waters warned of their coming doom, creeping close to me with each passing moment; they well surpassed the bank and boundary lines. The threat of a flash flood was imminent.   My friends and I had just finished securing the property and house with wood and sand bags to the best of our ability. We stood looking at the waters about to turn inside and close ourselves in with prayers that we and our homes would survive the flood. Just as we turned to go inside, through the fog we could see a car floating towards us, th

You sometimes hear people say I need to get back to my “normal” life, or “normal routine.  The longer I live in India, the longer I wonder what normal is anyway. I am not sure I really have a norm anymore. I watched a lady sit on the edge of a fast speed freeway today hacking away at some grass with a knife. I guess this was her job. I am sure there was a reason she was doing it. But it’s something that will never be normal to me.  I walked to my taxi, headed out for work this morning as a beggar asked me for money.  This is his normal “job”. It’s his norm, but not mine. My neighbor cried to me for over an hour last night explaining how her dad beats her and calls her dirty names.  Her auntie explained how this is the Indian way.  It may be their norm, but it’s not mine.  I sat contemplating these things and more for over an hour today. I thought about what normal means to me, and what normal used to mean to me back in America.  What was normal to me isn’t normal anymore. What’s norma

(One man's drawing from the Rehab: He said he feels stuck in the jail of the alcohol bottle.) I watched the eyes of a long term drug addict look for hope today. 

 I smelled the tainted breath of an alcoholic's first day in recovery. 

 I listened to the avoidance of a thousand stories told in effort to not have to feel the pain of the raw emotions beneath the surface. 

 I listened to the repeated cyclical questions of a man that doesn't know what he feels or why he does what he does. 

 I challenged those who were so insecure and broken that were afraid to draw a simple stick figure on a paper. 

 I listened as another told of searching the Bib*le, the Qa*ran, and the 12 Steps & 12 Traditions for hope, truth, and healing. 

 I listened as another man questioned how to hear G0d's voice. He spoke of praying to Bugvan (a Hindu g0d) daily, but never finding true solace. 

 I interceded as a women wept stuck and unsure of why she is in a cons

(If only I could love rain and umbrellas like my friend's daughter.) Some days are hard.  Some days are frustrating.  Some days burst and shred to pieces my first world roots and mentality that linger so closely though unwanted.  No electricity; no water coming from my faucet; cold, yet humid, damp, and sticky weather; monsoon rains pouring down so loud I can hardly make a phone call to my landlord to tell him the roof is leaking in 3 different places; mold found already growing throughout the house and this is only week 2 of monsoon. 
The hardships of life; this and more.  Sometimes it seems to come all at once.  Sometimes it seems to be too much.  And yet in a moment, as I quiet my heart, meditate, and pray that perfect peace comes and soothes my soul.  My perspective always changes as I come into the light of His glory and grace. This is but a fleeting momentary struggle.  Others struggle with so much more.  His grace is always sufficient, always. 

(Just a glimpse of this beautiful place I call home) This week, I had a 4 hour drive round trip to a home that I was visiting for some counseling with young ladies with tragic pasts. I had visited recently, and I had helped to pray with one young lady for deliverance. She had been being tortured for 3 years by evil spirits that would cause her to hurt herself and others. She had been levitating 3 feet off the ground the day before we arrived to pray. Her deliverance wasn't a fast process, it seemed to take a few days and multiple sessions of prayer. There also seemed to be many different spirits inside her. At one point the evil spirt spoke and said, "I won't leave, she wants me to stay!" The girl shared how this evil spirit had become her friend and a trusted companion. I wondered how many people have these "trusted companions" haunting their life. It's all based on lies. Eventually after some deliverance prayer times the youn