Our Internet Access has been limited. Here is another update from our first week.
3-4-06 Our first Saturday Morning – Worship at a House Church/Company
We arrived at our site in the morning fully prepared to have church service with the locals. When we arrived, we saw that our tent was still sitting in a heap from the wind storm the night before and there was no one around. Our translator contacted the Pastor and we were told that the Pastor had “cancelled” church so that he could visit various homes and encourage people to come out to the meeting in the evening.
We were asked if we would mind visiting one of the “companies”. In Andhra Pradesh, there are about 9 SDA churches, but over 40 companies, organized groups that meet each week in someone’s home.
We readily agreed. Twenty minutes later after passing a few agricultural pastures, we turned off onto another dirt road. This area was a bit more rural than our site at Allwyn Colony. We passed many make-shift houses made of wooden planks, plastic or thatched grass. Some were mere tents without doors. We stopped in front of a cement house surrounded by a small dirt courtyard. A few well kept animal stalls were right next to the house along with a latrine. A woman standing in the doorway bowed her head as a greeting and welcomed us in.
The moment I saw her, I had great admiration and affection for her. She had such courage and strength in her eyes. She was humble, but I could tell, very wise and very strong.
After seating us in 3 plastic chairs that were brought out to an otherwise empty room, our hostess, Nimeela, quickly left. Our translator explained that everyone in the neighborhood was gathering water. Today the water was delivered to the village. If they did not collect it at this time, they would have to wait 2 or more days till the water was again delivered. About a half hour later, Nimeela returned with several vessels of water and a small child (not more than 4 or 5 years old) also helped her.
Soon after other members began to arrive, about 15 in all, and also some children. Everyone took off their shoes at the door and sat down on the floor on which a piece of blue plastic tarp had been laid. Everyone greeted us warmly and respectfully. Church began with Mom giving a health lecture on the importance of cleanliness. I told the children the story of Samuel and how it doesn’t matter how old you are, you can still be called of God. Dad preached a wonderful sermon on the three angles message and encouraged them to keep strong their faith.
After church, we fellowshipped with them and took some pics. Everyone wanted special prayer, even the children. They lined up and waited patiently as Dad prayed. As soon as he had concluded praying for one, another came and asked for prayer. Prayer is taken very seriously in India. The people crave it. Everywhere where we go, we are asked to pray. And each person, wants their own prayer. Several times we thought we were doing “for the group” praying, but soon as we were done, another and then another also wanted prayer. Some even wanted to pay! Of course we refused any money. But it was amazing to see how something so simple, something we so often take for granted, is so valued. I knew things like water and good food were valued, I didn’t expect prayer to be such a commodity.
As we were leaving, I hugged and embraced my new friend Nimeela. Although we didn’t speak the same language, a bond greater than words was created. I look forward to seeing her again-- even if we have to wait till the world made new.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Some pics
Our first Sabbath
Boys outside the school yard
Scene from my Hotel window
A building in Hyderabad
Drving through a small town
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Saturday, March 04, 2006
God is so good. He works in Mysterious Ways.
Mar 3, 2006
Tonight was the first night of the crusade.
We found out on Wednesday during orientation that we were assigned to Allywn Colony. We went to the site earlier this morning and were surprised at the scarcity of the site! We were told we would all be preaching in local churches around the city.
On the way to our site, we dropped off one of the other speakers at his site. He was at a beautiful church facility in a small town. We traveled past many bustling city towns, past smaller village-market areas, then turned off the paved road on to a bumpy dirt road that continued through rural looking neighborhoods. After driving for nearly to two hours, our driver stopped and parked next to a large unkempt, plowed field. There we saw a small tent erected in the middle of a dusty field covered with weeds, litter and brush.
Allwyn Colony, the area that we have been assigned, used to be a strong industrial community. A large corporation, the Allwyn Company used to manufacture refrigerators, but the company packed up and left. The former workers were given the houses and still live there years later. The community appears to be a collection of 6 to 7 dozen houses tucked away off this dusty road.
Upon closer inspection, we realize the tent is comprised of large pieces of carpet supported by four wooded branches used as posts and tied down with rope held in place with tent stakes. They were putting it together as we arrived.
We learn that there is a “local church group”, but they do not have a church as yet. The 15 members meet in the Pastor’s home. The room they worshiped in is no more than 6 by 9 feet. Just about the size of my bathroom, if not smaller. I was wondering how all 15 members fit in there. We later find out that they have already purchased some land for building a church.
When we came back in the evening, a few dozen plastic chairs were set up outside in front of the tent. A table and platform had also been set up under the tent. And a plastic tarp had also been spread out and the children were encouraged to sit on it. And the children did come. First one or two, then a few more, then dozens more, they sat on the tarp; girls on one side, boys on the other.
We began the program by showing a few minutes from the Jesus Film. It is the story on the life of Christ that we projected from our computer onto a white sheet that had been set up as a screen. The film is in the native Tangalu language and is a real draw for the community. The country of India itself is only 5% Christian. The majority, 65% are Muslim the others are mostly Hindu. The Jesus Film is a great opportunity to introduce Christ in an “entertaining and non-threatening” way.
As we were setting up the equipment, my Dad asked, “Do you think it is going to rain?” We saw some sparse lighting in the distance. But being it was the beginning of the Indian summer season, which started on March 1 and the rainy season doesn’t begin till June, July or August, I quickly said, “no”.
After showing the Jesus Film, the natives had a beautiful Indian song service complete with drums and tambourine. They were singing in Tangalu. It was very beautiful.
We were then introduced and called up on the stage. Then as according to Indian tradition, we were presented with beautiful flower garlands. They were made of various fresh flowers and mint leaves sewn together. It was very heavy and fragrant as various children placed the large garlands around our neck.
Dad was given the microphone to say a few words. He thanked everyone, then handed the microphone to Mom. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a strong wind rose up. Before she could even say a word, one end of the tent came up as the wind lifted the stake that was holding down one corner of the tent. Some of the men ran quickly to grab it and secure it back in place. Before they could catch it, another gush of wind began to blow the whole tent down. The men motioned for us to come off the stage; we were still underneath the tent trying to hold it up over our heads. They got us safely out the tent and the whole thing blew over. As they tried to get everything back in place, the wind blew harder and stronger. Lightening flashed closer and closer and thunder rumbled. The screen blew down and the electricity went out.
Meanwhile we were busy turning off the computer and projector and packing up our electrical equipment. When questioned by one of the pastors, Mom mentioned that we could set everything back up once the tent and screen were reconstructed. We completed putting everything away and realized that due to the strong winds, the men were unable to reconstruct the tent. Also they were unable to keep the electricity on. The electricity was being provided from an electrical pole across the field that one of the men had climbed and had rigged some wires. The wind kept blowing the wires down.
Through this ordeal, the children came to us with smiles and laughter and kept shaking our hands over and over again. Most of them introduced themselves in the dark. None of the names I could remember except Meshack, since it was the only name that was familiar. The children were happy to practice their English and kept saying “Good night” to us over and over again. They were so precious and beautiful, and had such open spirits.
I had my hair braided that night. A few children came to me and said I really like your hairstyle. Is that how they wear it in your country? I giggled and said yes. “We like, we like” they exclaimed.
It didn’t look like things would get back on track. The winds were blowing, the lightening was flashing, the men were trying to get everything pinned down, the children were running and playing, so we packed up everything in the car and begun the long drive back to the hotel. I felt disappointed that we did not get to have our program. Except for a short thank you, we didn’t get to say anything. It felt like some force, purposely caused this distraction so that we would not get to the message. On the drive back, it didn’t even look windy although, I noticed many of the towns and villages we passed did not have electricity. By the time we got settled in the hotel the rains came and came and came. Had we been outside, we would have been drenched. Our equipment would have been damaged or destroyed. God saw fit to get us and our equipment inside so that we can use it again another day; which of course we will! Tomorrow is a new day. We are doing two services tomorrow-- one for divine hour and also the evening program. I look forward to worshipping with my new friends.
Tonight was the first night of the crusade.
We found out on Wednesday during orientation that we were assigned to Allywn Colony. We went to the site earlier this morning and were surprised at the scarcity of the site! We were told we would all be preaching in local churches around the city.
On the way to our site, we dropped off one of the other speakers at his site. He was at a beautiful church facility in a small town. We traveled past many bustling city towns, past smaller village-market areas, then turned off the paved road on to a bumpy dirt road that continued through rural looking neighborhoods. After driving for nearly to two hours, our driver stopped and parked next to a large unkempt, plowed field. There we saw a small tent erected in the middle of a dusty field covered with weeds, litter and brush.
Allwyn Colony, the area that we have been assigned, used to be a strong industrial community. A large corporation, the Allwyn Company used to manufacture refrigerators, but the company packed up and left. The former workers were given the houses and still live there years later. The community appears to be a collection of 6 to 7 dozen houses tucked away off this dusty road.
Upon closer inspection, we realize the tent is comprised of large pieces of carpet supported by four wooded branches used as posts and tied down with rope held in place with tent stakes. They were putting it together as we arrived.
We learn that there is a “local church group”, but they do not have a church as yet. The 15 members meet in the Pastor’s home. The room they worshiped in is no more than 6 by 9 feet. Just about the size of my bathroom, if not smaller. I was wondering how all 15 members fit in there. We later find out that they have already purchased some land for building a church.
When we came back in the evening, a few dozen plastic chairs were set up outside in front of the tent. A table and platform had also been set up under the tent. And a plastic tarp had also been spread out and the children were encouraged to sit on it. And the children did come. First one or two, then a few more, then dozens more, they sat on the tarp; girls on one side, boys on the other.
We began the program by showing a few minutes from the Jesus Film. It is the story on the life of Christ that we projected from our computer onto a white sheet that had been set up as a screen. The film is in the native Tangalu language and is a real draw for the community. The country of India itself is only 5% Christian. The majority, 65% are Muslim the others are mostly Hindu. The Jesus Film is a great opportunity to introduce Christ in an “entertaining and non-threatening” way.
As we were setting up the equipment, my Dad asked, “Do you think it is going to rain?” We saw some sparse lighting in the distance. But being it was the beginning of the Indian summer season, which started on March 1 and the rainy season doesn’t begin till June, July or August, I quickly said, “no”.
After showing the Jesus Film, the natives had a beautiful Indian song service complete with drums and tambourine. They were singing in Tangalu. It was very beautiful.
We were then introduced and called up on the stage. Then as according to Indian tradition, we were presented with beautiful flower garlands. They were made of various fresh flowers and mint leaves sewn together. It was very heavy and fragrant as various children placed the large garlands around our neck.
Dad was given the microphone to say a few words. He thanked everyone, then handed the microphone to Mom. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a strong wind rose up. Before she could even say a word, one end of the tent came up as the wind lifted the stake that was holding down one corner of the tent. Some of the men ran quickly to grab it and secure it back in place. Before they could catch it, another gush of wind began to blow the whole tent down. The men motioned for us to come off the stage; we were still underneath the tent trying to hold it up over our heads. They got us safely out the tent and the whole thing blew over. As they tried to get everything back in place, the wind blew harder and stronger. Lightening flashed closer and closer and thunder rumbled. The screen blew down and the electricity went out.
Meanwhile we were busy turning off the computer and projector and packing up our electrical equipment. When questioned by one of the pastors, Mom mentioned that we could set everything back up once the tent and screen were reconstructed. We completed putting everything away and realized that due to the strong winds, the men were unable to reconstruct the tent. Also they were unable to keep the electricity on. The electricity was being provided from an electrical pole across the field that one of the men had climbed and had rigged some wires. The wind kept blowing the wires down.
Through this ordeal, the children came to us with smiles and laughter and kept shaking our hands over and over again. Most of them introduced themselves in the dark. None of the names I could remember except Meshack, since it was the only name that was familiar. The children were happy to practice their English and kept saying “Good night” to us over and over again. They were so precious and beautiful, and had such open spirits.
I had my hair braided that night. A few children came to me and said I really like your hairstyle. Is that how they wear it in your country? I giggled and said yes. “We like, we like” they exclaimed.
It didn’t look like things would get back on track. The winds were blowing, the lightening was flashing, the men were trying to get everything pinned down, the children were running and playing, so we packed up everything in the car and begun the long drive back to the hotel. I felt disappointed that we did not get to have our program. Except for a short thank you, we didn’t get to say anything. It felt like some force, purposely caused this distraction so that we would not get to the message. On the drive back, it didn’t even look windy although, I noticed many of the towns and villages we passed did not have electricity. By the time we got settled in the hotel the rains came and came and came. Had we been outside, we would have been drenched. Our equipment would have been damaged or destroyed. God saw fit to get us and our equipment inside so that we can use it again another day; which of course we will! Tomorrow is a new day. We are doing two services tomorrow-- one for divine hour and also the evening program. I look forward to worshipping with my new friends.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
You’re Not Welcomed Here; Go Home!
March 1, 2006
I have arrived safely in India. Thank God. After traveling for more than 2 days, across over more than 3 continents, and covering over 7,000 miles, my parents and I have finally arrived in Hyderabad, India. Hyderabad is located in the southern, middle region of India in the Andhra Pradesh state. We are staying at the Harsha Hotel located in center of Hyderabad. There is a population of over 1.5 million people living in this city alone. And even now, while it is 1:49 am in the morning, there is a constant noise of cars and horns and people right outside our hotel window.
This is a brand new journey. A different kind of journey. Last year my parents and I went to West Africa. It was a rewarding and life changing trip. I’ve always wanted to go to Africa. It is the motherland, the seat of civilization, the roots from where “my people”, African Americans and Caribbean people descended. We immediately had a connection to the food, the culture, the history, the land, and the people. The Ghanians welcomed us with open arms, as if we were prodigal children finding our way back home. They received us warmly, bestowed great acts of kindness upon us and openly listened to our message. For me it was part of a journey of finding my way back home.
But this, this is a new kind of journey. I’ve never thought seriously about visiting India. In my mind, it has always been a fascinating place, a place of great mystery. But never did I imagine my journeys would take me here?! When my father suggested going, as part of “missionary effort--part 2”, I was extremely hesitant. After all, I’m still recovering from missionary effort – part 1. The thought of being outside my comfort zone, again, for many weeks, again, was……..something I would have to seriously think about and pray about. And I did. I thought and prayed and thought some more, prayed some more. And then it was time for an answer. But I didn’t have one. I had no strong opinion one way or another whether or not to go. My parents wanted me to go. My logical, rational, business minded, and safe part of me did not want to go. Mainly because I did not want to be “uncomfortable” …..and of course there was work. (Beware of retired, adventurous parents, with no work to hold them back or slow them down) :-0
A new kind of journey. In the midst of my internal struggle, I got a word that helped me to solidify my answer. God said, I have people there that are ready and awaiting the Word. How will they know, if no one tells them? You do My work; I’ll take care of yours. So I agreed, almost reluctantly. And began preparations. And God did come through on His part.
So we are here. We’ve been here for one day so far. And it has been very interesting. The limited infrastructure, poverty, lack of hot water, toilet paper and occasionally the lack of a toilet itself, remind me that I am far away from home, in a different kind of world. The travel was long, but we got to fly north past Greenland as we crossed the Atlantic Ocean. We continued our flight over Europe, Russia, then headed south over of parts of western Asia. We arrived in Delhi, India and awaited our transfer flight to Hyderabad. On the plane local Indian papers were given out to passengers to read. I find out that Pres Bush is to visit India this week, with a stop over in Hyderabad this weekend. What timing?
The US sentiment on this side of the world does not seem very favorable. The front cover of “The Hindu”, India’s national newspaper showed a full color picture of protesters taking the streets in one of India’s states, expressing solidarity with Iraqis and protesting the bombing of the Iraqi shrine. In the article it refers to the US as imperialistic murderers and in a separate article calls Bush a war criminal. “The Times International” headlines “Terror Cloud Over Bush Visit” and speaks of active campaigns that have been setup to protest the upcoming visit, including marches, banners and gory pictures.
I began to panic. What are we doing here? They don’t want us here. Our country represents imperialistic values to many of them. Will they even receive us? Will we be safe? The questions began to mount.
Then I remembered, “You do My work, and I’ll handle yours.” I’m slowing beginning to see the full extent of what God had in mind. When we finally arrived at our destination, the local church received us warmly. We found out that our assignment would be right here in the city. In the past, much focus was given to spreading the Word in the villages, but the cities were overlooked. Our family has been chosen to work in this city while the others go into to the surrounding villages.
As I look out my hotel window, I notice the cars, buses and taxis have slowed down a bit but are still pretty constant. There are millions of people living in this city. The majority of people are Hindu and believe in multiple gods. There are many other faiths including Islam, as well as “cultural” religions. Many don’t know anything about Christianity, nor do they know that God loves them. I am reminded of Paul as he walked through Athens. This new kind of journey has definitely begun.
I have arrived safely in India. Thank God. After traveling for more than 2 days, across over more than 3 continents, and covering over 7,000 miles, my parents and I have finally arrived in Hyderabad, India. Hyderabad is located in the southern, middle region of India in the Andhra Pradesh state. We are staying at the Harsha Hotel located in center of Hyderabad. There is a population of over 1.5 million people living in this city alone. And even now, while it is 1:49 am in the morning, there is a constant noise of cars and horns and people right outside our hotel window.
This is a brand new journey. A different kind of journey. Last year my parents and I went to West Africa. It was a rewarding and life changing trip. I’ve always wanted to go to Africa. It is the motherland, the seat of civilization, the roots from where “my people”, African Americans and Caribbean people descended. We immediately had a connection to the food, the culture, the history, the land, and the people. The Ghanians welcomed us with open arms, as if we were prodigal children finding our way back home. They received us warmly, bestowed great acts of kindness upon us and openly listened to our message. For me it was part of a journey of finding my way back home.
But this, this is a new kind of journey. I’ve never thought seriously about visiting India. In my mind, it has always been a fascinating place, a place of great mystery. But never did I imagine my journeys would take me here?! When my father suggested going, as part of “missionary effort--part 2”, I was extremely hesitant. After all, I’m still recovering from missionary effort – part 1. The thought of being outside my comfort zone, again, for many weeks, again, was……..something I would have to seriously think about and pray about. And I did. I thought and prayed and thought some more, prayed some more. And then it was time for an answer. But I didn’t have one. I had no strong opinion one way or another whether or not to go. My parents wanted me to go. My logical, rational, business minded, and safe part of me did not want to go. Mainly because I did not want to be “uncomfortable” …..and of course there was work. (Beware of retired, adventurous parents, with no work to hold them back or slow them down) :-0
A new kind of journey. In the midst of my internal struggle, I got a word that helped me to solidify my answer. God said, I have people there that are ready and awaiting the Word. How will they know, if no one tells them? You do My work; I’ll take care of yours. So I agreed, almost reluctantly. And began preparations. And God did come through on His part.
So we are here. We’ve been here for one day so far. And it has been very interesting. The limited infrastructure, poverty, lack of hot water, toilet paper and occasionally the lack of a toilet itself, remind me that I am far away from home, in a different kind of world. The travel was long, but we got to fly north past Greenland as we crossed the Atlantic Ocean. We continued our flight over Europe, Russia, then headed south over of parts of western Asia. We arrived in Delhi, India and awaited our transfer flight to Hyderabad. On the plane local Indian papers were given out to passengers to read. I find out that Pres Bush is to visit India this week, with a stop over in Hyderabad this weekend. What timing?
The US sentiment on this side of the world does not seem very favorable. The front cover of “The Hindu”, India’s national newspaper showed a full color picture of protesters taking the streets in one of India’s states, expressing solidarity with Iraqis and protesting the bombing of the Iraqi shrine. In the article it refers to the US as imperialistic murderers and in a separate article calls Bush a war criminal. “The Times International” headlines “Terror Cloud Over Bush Visit” and speaks of active campaigns that have been setup to protest the upcoming visit, including marches, banners and gory pictures.
I began to panic. What are we doing here? They don’t want us here. Our country represents imperialistic values to many of them. Will they even receive us? Will we be safe? The questions began to mount.
Then I remembered, “You do My work, and I’ll handle yours.” I’m slowing beginning to see the full extent of what God had in mind. When we finally arrived at our destination, the local church received us warmly. We found out that our assignment would be right here in the city. In the past, much focus was given to spreading the Word in the villages, but the cities were overlooked. Our family has been chosen to work in this city while the others go into to the surrounding villages.
As I look out my hotel window, I notice the cars, buses and taxis have slowed down a bit but are still pretty constant. There are millions of people living in this city. The majority of people are Hindu and believe in multiple gods. There are many other faiths including Islam, as well as “cultural” religions. Many don’t know anything about Christianity, nor do they know that God loves them. I am reminded of Paul as he walked through Athens. This new kind of journey has definitely begun.
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