Aste Aste

“When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.” –Psalm 94:19

I leave pieces of my heart everywhere I go. My heart may be smaller but my capacity for love is so much greater. 

He twists his mouth awkwardly, trying to mimic my American accent as he reads the words I had written on the page. A breeze blows across the porch and he pulls the shawl I let him borrow tighter around his face, making me laugh because he looks like a typical terrorist from an American comic. He catches my eye for a moment. “I change since you come. I feel different,” he tells me before he goes back to reading CAMEL, typed out in large letters across the page. The cool breeze brushes away the thoughts of leaving. I try to forget.

But later, as he waves goodbye to me at the airport, eyes red with tears, I find a quiet corner to sob. 

Sister Beatina calls me into the Flower room, into a room full of the girls I have been working with over the last two and a half months. They drape a lei made out of recycled paper around my neck and Gita starts singing into the microphone, belting out some tune the rest of the girls know and join in. They all sing and bring me gifts they have made. We all clap and whistle as Asha, our little girl with Downs Syndrome, dances in the middle of the room. Cecilia sits in her wheelchair, not smiling, not joining in, her eyes watering. I lean into her and make a few jokes, pinching her cheeks. She smiles and joins us for a little bit.

I lift Cecilia out of her wheelchair and into her pink checkered bed, next to Rani and Mangala, her best friends. As I begin to walk away, she reaches out her hand as far as her contorted muscles allow and grabs my arm, pulling me down to her bed. With tears in her eyes she pulls me in and whispers, “Thank you, Auntie, for everything.” We have tickle fest so I don’t start crying in front of her. And I leave her with a smile on her face.

Familiar faces gather around the table, reaching into box after box of cheese pizza. I retreat from the party to start packing. Some of the girls come in, telling me how strange this place will be without me. I was the first person many of them met. I remember when the first people I met at my guesthouse left. When you meet and become family, it feels like you will each be there forever. This is life. But then time passes and suddenly the visa is due to expire and we make our way back to where we came from. Life moves so quickly.

I fell in love again and again in India. 

I am afraid to come back to the US. I am afraid for so many reasons, but I don’t feel like I can explain without offending someone. I am afraid of apathy, complacency, political agendas, American Christians who are more American than Christian. I wish I could go anywhere else but America.

But my heart convicts me as I read:

“The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with Him, but Jesus sent him away, saying, ‘Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.’ And he went away, proclaiming throughout the whole city how much Jesus had done for him.” Luke 8:38-39

I will go back to America, and I will proclaim all God has done for me. I will look for the log in my own eye before trying to help my brothers and sisters with their splinters. I will constantly check the state of my heart, asking myself tough questions about my beliefs and the way I live them out. But most of all, I will pray constantly and beg God to have mercy on me, a sinner.

I will be back in Arizona Wednesday night. I will make a short blog and Facebook post to let people know I have arrived safely, then I will not be turning on my computer to look at Facebook or the news, nor will I be reading newspapers or watching TV for about a week. I don’t know how often I will answer phone calls or texts. I need to ease myself back into American culture slowly, without being bombarded by news of Israel and Gaza, or what my friends think of Obama. I will be praying, spending time with my family and close friends, and trying to sort out everything in my head and heart.

Thank you for all the love, support, and encouragement you have given me on this journey in Kolkata. I pray that you will be strengthened and encouraged through the Holy Spirit to be the hands and feet of Jesus wherever you are to whomever you can.

I think Shane Claiborne summarizes things pretty well in his book The Irresistible Revolution after he had come back from a summer of working with Mother Teresa in Kolkata:

“Mother Teresa always said, ‘Calcuttas are everywhere if only we have eyes to see. Find your Calcutta.’ I was ready to come home. I knew that my Calcutta was the United States, for I knew that we could not end poverty until we took a careful look at wealth. I was to battle the beast from within the belly…As I left Calcutta it occurred to me that I was returning to a land of lepers, a land of people who had forgotten how to feel, to laugh, to cry, a land haunted by numbness. Could we begin to feel again?”

And to end, I share my own sentiments through the journal entry of a young adult in the Church in North America in the book Letters to a Future Church:

Dear Church,

Apparently we aren’t supposed to pledge allegiance to anything or anyone other than Him. No stars. No stripes, No treaties. No task forces. Just to a King and a Kingdom.

Are you coming?

He's Back?

Ahad showed up an hour late for English class this morning.  He is supposed to be here at 7:30, so by 8am I had pretty much given up hope that he would show. Last night he promised "100 percent" that he would be at our lesson today.

We had our usual lesson and then I asked him what he was trying to do. "Are you trying to cut our friendship so you don't feel so bad when I leave?" I asked. "No, never cut for you," he replied, looking down, seemingly more interested in the orange tile he was sitting on than our conversation. "You no understand," he said. He tried to explain a fight he had with some family members yesterday, but I couldn't quite understand. "Never you understand 100 percent. Maybe 60, 40, 30 percent understand."

I tried to give him the letter I wrote for him as my goodbye letter, but he refused to take it.

"Coming to class tomorrow. Promise." He said before he headed off for work.

God is truly the only One we can trust to show up "100 percent" of the time. He will never leave or abandon us. He walks with us through our struggles and pain, bringing peace and comfort.

Lord, let Heaven come near. 

Love Until it Hurts

"To be true, love has to hurt…Jesus said, 'Love one another as I have loved you.' He loved until it hurt." -Mother Teresa

Love is not easy. Ask anyone who has been married. Love is not easy. We will hurt each other. But despite being hurt, we must continue to love.

Ahad has not shown up for English lessons for five days. At first he said he had a cold, but then he said he was fine and was sorry he didn't come. No explanation. I know what he's doing. All his life he has been abandoned by people closest to him, family and friends, people who should have stuck by him and cared for him. Instead, those people left or betrayed him. Now he's seeing me leaving as another abandonment, and he's staying away, building up his hard emotional exoskeleton so when I leave it will not hurt as bad.

We will always hurt each other, but God is a God of love. He is love. He will never leave us or abandon us, even when the people around us do (Heb 13:5).

Ahad hasn't answered my calls this morning.

Jesus, open Ahad's heart to love. Pierce through his emotional armor to bring Your love to his heart. 

Abandon All

“Whoever does not bear (take up, carry) his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple…So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce (forsake, leave behind, abandon) all that he has cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14: 27, 33

“By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward.” Hebrews 11: 24-26

Moses, one of our great Fathers of faith. Hidden among the reeds of the Nile by his mother during an infanticide initiated by the King, Hebrew baby Moses was found by the King’s daughter, taken in as her own son, and “instructed in all the wisdom of the Egyptians” (Acts 7:27). He was not born into luxury and wealth, but he sure was raised in it. Moses had everything at his disposal, and a great position of influence where he could have helped the Hebrew people. Instead, when he was 40 years old, while trying to look out for a fellow Hebrew who was being beaten by an Egyptian, Moses killed the Egyptian, then fled when he realized others knew about the murder. He gave up his rich status to identify with his people, God’s people. He then went into the sheep-tending business, married a nice shepherd girl, and lived out his life in peace for forty years.

Then God gets his attention with a burning bush, a bush engulfed in flame but not consumed.

“Take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground” (Exodus 3:5).  

Why take off his sandals? Moses probably had some pretty raunchy feet after hanging out with sheep day in and day out for forty years, yet God would not let him come close with his sandals on (probably the more hygienic approach). 

God is willing to get involved in our dirt. He wants to feel through our hands and feet. He is not a distant God, watching from afar, waiting for us to mess up. He is an intimate God who desires to be close to His beloved, to be involved in our messy lives. He lets us come to Him with dirty feet and hands, physically and metaphorically. Moses was not innocent. He came to God with dirt on his feet and blood on his hands, and God brought him into His fold and loved him.

God told Moses he would be delivering the Hebrews from slavery. Uh, what?! Paraphrase…“Yeah, you dirty murderer, you’re going to go back to the country you fled, the country where you've got a price on your head, and you’re going to tell that King to let My people go.” Moses gives all kinds of excuses: I’m not worthy to go, they won’t listen to me, I’m not eloquent enough… “Please send someone else!” (Ex 4:13). Doesn't really sound like a great Father of Faith now does it? God deals with Moses patiently, giving him signs and wonders, giving an answer to all his excuses. Even when Moses asks God to send someone else, and God’s anger is “kindled against Moses,” God continues to give Moses answers, telling him He will send his brother Aaron with him to be his mouthpiece.

And finally, Moses goes. After excuses and worries, Moses finally goes to deliver the Israelites from bondage.  He is counted as a Father of faith because even though it took him a while, Moses chose to step out in faith and obey his God, no matter the cost, no matter how difficult it may be. He forsook his rich upbringing to wallow in the dirt with his people, the people of God. He forsook his high position, his status, his worldliness, and his possessions to be with God’s people.

“Whoever does not bear (take up, carry) his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple…So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce (forsake, leave behind, abandon) all that he has cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14: 27, 33

This verse challenges me, inspires me, and convicts me.  Have I renounced, abandoned, all that I have to be a disciple of Christ? The answer is plain to me. No, I have not. Unlike Moses, I cling to my possessions, my status, my worldliness, even as I am sickened by it. 

"But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ" Philippians 3:7-8

I am like an alcoholic in the first stage of recovery: I am admitting the truth about myself and I want change. I no longer want to be bound by these chains, these things, these desires. I want to live in the complete freedom offered by Jesus Christ. But slaves who have been slaves for so long have a hard time learning how to be free. I have been a slave to my passions, to my possessions, to my thoughts for so long that learning how to be completely free of those in Jesus has been quite the process. I’m not talking about Buddhism where the ultimate goal is Nirvana, a state of non-feeling. I’m talking about being free from feeling like I need something other than God Himself. No more anxiety about things: food, clothing, rent, fashion, pop culture, that new purse, that new whatever. No more anxiety, because I need nothing.

The song "Zion and Babylon" by Josh Garrels has been on repeat in my head lately, reminding me of the ideas in this blog: 

"Oh great mammon of form and function 

Careless consumerist consumption 

Dangerous dysfunction 

Disguised as expensive taste 

I'm a people disgraced 

By what I claim I need 

And what I want to waste 

I take no account for nothing 

If it's not mine 

It's a misappropriation of funds 

Protect my ninety percent with my guns 

Whose side am I on? 

Well who's winning?"

You can hear this awesome song here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mqia1Ft1Zy4

Greed stems from our skewed thinking that there is not enough, that if we take only what we need we will run out and there will never be enough of that thing for us again. I’m not just talking about big scale Black Friday type greed where we trample each other for non-essentials...

I’m talking about the small anxiousness that comes from moments like when the fridge is running low on food, when my favorite book goes on sale and I can’t get to the store, when my pen runs out of ink and I don’t have a backup, when I want my boss to see the good things I have been doing but he’s not paying attention… maybe you can’t relate to any of those things and they are just my weird insecurities, but hopefully you get the point.

God has assured us we have everything we need in Him: “And my God will supply every need of yours according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:19). We have no reason to be anxious. We must abandon all we have to be disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Father, I pray for your Bride, the Church in North America, that we will not seek our own gain, but the gain of others.  That we will abandon all we have to be intimate followers of Jesus Christ, going and preaching the gospel in word and deed to the entire world, showing that we are followers of Christ by our love. Let them know us by our love, Lord. Unify Your Church, help us set aside politics and useless quarrels, and focus on the Cross, the beautiful cross that unified us all through the blood of our Savior. 

*First three photos taken by Brandt Russo, available for sale, proceeds toward the poor: http://cantignore.org/

*Black Friday photo from Google image search

Flower Tea

Ahad showed up to English class this morning with his own kettle of tea and a cup. He has been sick since Saturday with a fever, so I figured he had gone to the doctor.

"What's with the kettle?" I asked.

"Flowers!" He says, then opens the top of the kettle and shows me there are indeed flowers of some sort floating in hot water, brewing.

He sees my quizzical look and attempts an explanation: "Old man, 110 years old, tell me not to eat. Only drink tea with these flowers. I have no breakfast, only plain rice in the night."

I tell him that 110 year old men, as full of wisdom as they are, should not dispense medical advice and that he needs to eat to give his body energy to fight the sickness. He pretty much brushes me off and tells me he is "washing" his insides. Whatever. We continued with English class and read through the alphabet, as usual, then practiced small words we have been working on: words that end with "am," "at," and "ook."

I am really going to miss Ahad. And I know he's really going to miss me.

"No mama, no papa, no cousin, no one ever tell me to learn. No one take me to school. No one care, no one love. You my best friend." He tells me.

I tell him that God loves him even more and that He has great plans for His life and will not leave him an orphan. God will be the perfect father, the kind of father he never really had. He wants to believe, but can't quite let himself. 

Not a Lonely Planet

It's hard to be lonely here in this city of five million people, all living on top of each other, taking up every piece of building and sidewalk to sleep, eat, and live on. Life revolves around family, making strangers intimate with one another. Strangers are called Auntie, Uncle, Babu (son), Dada (dad).

No one is a stranger in Kolkata.

We crowd onto the bus every day, rubbing shoulders and backs against one another, sweating together. The women hand their children to the closest people on the bus to make sure they are safe before they climb on themselves. They throw their purses to anyone who catches it and will have that person hold it until they get off the bus. They laugh and giggle as the bus drives away while they are still boarding, knocking into others who are standing, holding onto the rail. Those people smile as well. Indians have developed a culture of tolerance, even amusement, to deal with the crowds. They don't deal with crowds anymore, they grow within them as family. 

In her book Foreign to Familiar, Sarah Lanier says "the population of the entire world can roughly be divided into two parts. The two groups represented are 'hot-climate' (relationship-based) cultures and 'cold-climate' (task-oriented) cultures." The United States, Canada, England, and most of Europe can be described as cold-climate, places that focus more on business and getting things accomplished than they do on relationships. India is on the other side, making sure relationships are secure before going into any business deal, which is why you may sit and drink chai and have a long chat with the shop keeper before you buy a sari from him.  It's about relationships in India, especially in Kolkata, Delhi and the other major cities where becoming friendly and familiar is a necessity because of the size of the population. 

America is going to be quite the lonely place after so much hustle and bustle around me at all times. 

I can count my time left in Kolkata in days now: 24 days. I can't believe I've been here for five months. 

Everyday, I step over sidewalk sleepers; I play with my homeless friend Asmirah, Maria, Raju, Ricky and Bicky; I walk past dozens of people begging for money, dying on the sidewalks, or just sitting in a drug-alcohol induced haze; I watch old wrinkled women, bent over, carrying heavy loads of clothes on their heads; I see men and women bathing themselves and brushing their teeth in the street at the water fountain.  This is my day. This has been my life for five months.  

I will arrive in America the day before we gorge ourselves at a Thanksgiving feast, two days before America's largest display of greed and selfishness on Black Friday, and a month before western style Christmas where it's more about buying than worshiping our Lord Jesus Christ. 

I can't lie and say I'm excited about coming back, especially the time I'm coming back. I'm grateful that I'll miss out on all the political ridiculousness that divides people and makes everyone, even fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, choose sides. I will be grateful to see my loved ones again and be able to cuddle with my dog. But I can already imagine myself refusing to leave the house when I get back because I just don't think I'll be able to handle it all. From poverty to excess. Lord, give me the grace. 

I pray to not get sucked under the wave of consumerism and materialism that defines the western world, America in particular. I'm already so inclined toward consumerism that I'm afraid I'll give in without a second thought, that the acceptance of materialism surrounding me in America will overwhelm my compassion for the poor and I will buy a purse instead of giving the money to clothe someone. It's a heart problem. I pray to hold fast to love and justice and to remember, remember, remember the poor, the unloved, the unwanted. God help me. 

*All photos except the first one are from my friend Theresa

Durga Puja

Ahad says some awesome things during our English lessons, like, "Wish? Oh, "wish," like you wish on a broke star!"  And this video where he tries to imitate (kinda) my American accent...or an Italian gangster...

Then there was Durga Puja where the whole city set up pandals of their god and goddesses.

More Puja...

This display was really cool. Human statues who sat in this position for hours! With small breaks of course... They were depicting scenes from India's history.

Pandals...

Sari wearing...

More pandals and lights...

The pandals have been going up for about a month. On the last day of Puja, the Hindus took all their hard work and threw all the statues in the river. 

Field Trip

Today, instead of our usual Sunday Macarena puppet party at Shanti Dan, we went on a field trip to the Sealdah train station market. It is the beginning of Durja Puja, a Hindu festival celebrating Hindu gods and goddesses that really lasts a few weeks where giant pandals (colorful stages) are set up around the city to be admired by beautifully dressed Indians. So, the girls dressed up and we went out to buy sweets and bangles!

Gita loves when she gets to use her walking sticks!

Asha gets her nails painted to match her dress

Josephine isn't really sure about handling the money

Asha loves cake!

The only real way to drink orange soda. Pinky up!

Lessons from Shanti Dan

Shanti Dan is a beautiful place, full of color, peace, hope, and love, a great place for girls with different disabilities to learn and grow as young ladies. This is where I spend my mornings from 8am-1pm.

Yesterday we got out the notebooks, counting blocks, and other teaching tools and got to work on math. I sat with Cecilia, one of our Flowers from the higher functioning group. She is in a wheelchair due to her physical condition and can communicate in English and Bengali and lets you know what she needs. I sat with her, got out her notebook, and we looked at the first problem: 5 x 6 = ?

She counted out a few blocks, then stopped. "Auntie, you have to help me. I don't know how to start."

I helped her get started by counting out five blocks and telling her to count out five blocks six more times until we had six rows of five. Then she counted out each block and came up with her answer.

Cecilia knows when she needs help. She knows when she can do things on her own. She does what she can then asks for help to keep going, to make sure she is doing it correctly.

I need to learn this lesson from Cecilia, to do what I can, then not be ashamed or embarrassed to ask for help. Cecilia does not have a problem asking me to help her with a task, to help her count blocks, feed her, or even take her to the bathroom. She knows her limits and knows she needs help to progress and reach her full potential.

Have I mentioned how much I love Shanti Dan?

These girls have so much to teach me. 

Shantinagar

Sow for yourselves righteousness;

reap steadfast love;

break up your fallow ground,

for it is the time to seek the Lord,

that He may come and rain righteousness upon you.

- Hosea 10:12

I've always felt like I was on the edge of something great, a Grand Canyon of expectation and destiny, but I was always held back, stifled by fear, unwilling to jump into the unknown. 

Coming to Kolkata to live and serve for six months was a step toward the edge.  I inched my way slowly to the canyon drop, trusting and praying that God would catch me if I decided to jump. If I decided He was trustworthy. 

While praying at Shantinagar, having one of those typical conversations with God that I do, I told Him, "If you will just let me know that my house and my siblings will be taken care of if I walk this path You have for me, I will walk it without question."  Even as the words formed in my mind, I knew how ridiculous they were. "Show me, so I can have faith," was what I was saying.  The answer came clearly: Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed. 

I have not seen the future and I don't know exactly what God has in store for me, but I do know He is trustworthy and provides for His children. If He has called me, He will equip me and provide for me. And He has definitely called me. 

I made a decision to jump, right then and there. "Ok God. I'm willing to jump. Let's do this." I didn't look any different. I was sitting on the couch in a peaceful home in the village. But when I determined in my heart that I would follow God where He calls, regardless of the obstacles, I was filled with such an electric joy I started laughing. 

Shantinagar was the perfect place for this conversation. The mornings opened with either mist or sunshine blanketing the earth around us. 

We left our humble home each morning at 6am for mass with the Sisters, the Missionaries of Charity. At 7am the mashis (aunties) brought us breakfast of eggs and chapattis. The three of us (Elena, Steph, and myself) took turns washing the dishes and clearing the table. 

Each day brought something new. The first two days at this beautiful Leprosy Rehabilitation Center were spent in rest and quiet for peaceful mediation and prayer. 

Another day we moved rocks out of the garden to a pile of rocks ready to be made into useful marble materials.

We also picked green beans and wheat to be used for our own dinner. Working with the very material that will sustain you is a humbling, beautiful experience. I grew closer to God as I moved closer to His creation. 

Other days we helped Rita and other ladies in the kitchen make Chapattis and cut vegetables. We watched Rita, our master teacher, mold the Chapatti dough into perfectly flat circles.  I watched her hands at work, her hands so scarred by Leprosy that only three fingers remained. Regardless of her lack of fingers, she molded each piece of dough into a perfectly flat circle, showing up the rest of us. She couldn't form words, so she would make noises and point to her chapatti to show us where we went wrong in our own chapatti.

In the evenings, sometimes we would work in the garden. Sometimes we would sit and read. Sometimes we would go on walks to see the sunset or buy detergent from the little store down the street. 

Sometimes we would visit the women patients. One of these patients, Poonam, turned up her Hindi music and asked us to dance for her. She had no legs. We each took a turn doing a dance from our respective countries (Mexico, America, China). I did some sort of western jig. I don't really know what it is, but Poonam seemed delighted. Other women sang for us, a beautiful song about Jesus sung in Bengali. While they sang, another women rolled up on a piece of wood to join us. All that remained of her legs was the stumps of her thighs that she drug along the ground beside her as she listened to the three tourists sing, "My God is sop Big," because that's the only song we all knew. 

I also worked at the dispensary for a morning, handing out medicines to those with leprosy who could catch it before it had progressed. Leprosy (also known as Hansen's Disease) is a virus that produces sores and lumps on the body. It attacks the sensors that let us experience touch, and that is the reason you will see many patients without limbs. They cannot feel in their fingers, toes, etc, so if they cut, burn, hurt themselves, they go untreated because they cannot feel pain. These limbs usually become infected and must be amputated. Leprosy is curable with the right medication. It also stops the spread of the disease to others. The problem in India is that people are so ashamed to have the disease that they will not seek medical help until they have lost body parts and are in dire need of medicine. 

Being at Shantinagar, which means "Peace Settlement," gave me time to listen and reflect on God's creation and His plan for my life. As I picked green beans and made Chapattis from nothing more than the materials in the backyard garden, I was so full of life, remembering that this was the original design. Just God, people, and a garden. There was peace and true community. When we pray the Our Father, "Let Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven," we are praying for God to bring back the garden, to bring back the community, to bring back the peace that He created everything for.  This is what community is: peace with God, one another, and the earth. 

He shall judge between the nations,

and shall decide disputes for many peoples;

and they shall beat their swords into plowshares,

and their spears into pruning hooks;

nation shall not lift up sword against nation,

neither shall they learn war anymore.

- Isaiah 2:4

As if this all wasn't clear enough, our loving God decides to dig it in a little deeper by giving me this verse:

So, you, by the help of your God, 

return, 

hold fast to love and justice,

 and wait continually for your God.

- Hosea 12:6

Return. 

Go home.

Go back to Phoenix. 

Hold on to the lessons you've learned.

Don't forget.

Hold tight to love and justice. 

Rely on God.

Accept His help.

Wait on Him.

Wait for His Word.

Wait for His timing.

Wait for His providence. 

Now, I'm super excited to come home and begin the next steps, but I know there is still another month and a half of work to do in India. So I pray that God will keep me in the moment, not in the past or future, and that He would continue to lead me day by day. Today, I am applying for Mission Year.