Whan-dhan-ahloo! (Telugu greeting for "Praise the Lord") *insert Lish bobble-head grin, while pressing hands together upright

It's pretty crazy to think that's I've been in India for half a year... the scene from where I sit, peaceful. As calming as this moment is now, this has been anything but an easy journey. Like Frodo when he first stuck that mysterious ring in his pocket, how oblivious he was of what was to come along the path ahead...

As cliche as this may sound, from the moment I first stepped off that plane, I feel like I've jumped in a stormy ocean without ever having taken swimming lessons. Only the reviving presence of my Lord has kept me afloat. I've discovered that He has very strong arms. I think coming here has been similar to Peter's walking on water challenge. He said, "Come." I came. I've been tossed by the waves and almost drowned, yet His hand never let me sink. It's been physically challenging in some ways, (from feverish heat stroke to frequent "motions, etc) but those are minor notes.  The forte of cannon blasts I've experienced have mostly been emotional, mental, and above all, spiritual. For all it's chaotic beauty, India is a challenging place, but then again, anywhere the battle rages is no cake walk. Has it been worth it? Yes. Most agree, anything worth value costs something. He gave us his life, crowned us with his beauty, and then tells us to "imitate Christ" and "be holy as I am holy." This is his heart's desire. And yet, even amidst all my failings, still He bids me, "Come." 

During my quiet times, it's almost been like Jesus hid me away from the world-- even the corner room where I've been staying-- with windows open, I glimpse the tops of flowering trees. It's as if he locked me up like a princess in a tower. When trying circumstances came, sometimes I would put up a fight and tear at the "bars," but I realize that it's been here, away from the distractions, where I've simply fallen, exhausted in his arms and rested my head upon the chest of Jesus. The heart beats from the Author and Perfector of our faith are quickened at thoughts of us. How he cares for us with an unfathomable intensity! Every day he paints new sunrises and waits expectant until we wake up. If you really think about it, each breath you breathe, even as you read this now, is a divine miracle-- you are the pinnacle of his creation! He delights in you-- as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride. He passionately desires that we know Him. But narrow is the way. Those willing to bear the mark of His name for His Kingdom will face many trials and endure much testing. Consider Job, Abraham, and Moses, not to mention countless others we've read about. I'm realizing more and more that God didn't stop moving in power after the completion of the Bible. He's still living and writing powerful stories through us today, but faith without fire is nothing but five letters on a page. "The sweetest scents are only obtained by tremendous pressure; the fairest flowers grow amid alpine snow-solitudes; the most beautiful gems have suffered longest from the lapidary's wheel; the noblest statues have borne most blows of the chisel..." (Streams in the Desert) No doubt, this has been a season of new depths for me, learning how to suffer obedience, even to the point of death. Not death physically, but the dying daily to myself. Which, to some degree, makes physical death almost more appealing. Having to get up and die day after day is a painful, refining process that not many, including myself, find enjoyable. I'm still learning. My prayer is that I would not only endure the cross, but embrace it! He never promised us a life of ease, he only promises to never leave us. Through it all, I've come to agree with Paul's statement, that His grace is sufficient, his power works best in our weakness. (2 Cor. 12:9) If you're discouraged or needing refreshment, I encourage you to come and drink from His well. Taste and see that He is good. For once you taste the divine love of the Beloved, there is no price too high. Nothing matters anymore but pleasing your Love. Make us ready for Your coming, Lord. We are waiting for you. Oh, King, make your bride beautiful. Steal me away with you to new heights!

To my team, you know who you are, thank you immeasurably for all your prayers and support. We've only begun to skim the surface here. There is so much to be done and like the Samaritan on the Jericho Road, I can't just pass by... Despite the challenges, or perhaps because of them, being in India has confirmed and ignited my heart's desire for more long-term mission work. Tomorrow I fly out from Delhi to Chicago, after that, once again, I face the unknown. The entire ocean stretches before me and a glorious Wind fills these sails... From Chi-town to Chai-town to wherever He leads next, "I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through which Christ Jesus is calling us." (Phil.3:14) I love you guys.  

No turning back,

Alisha Louise Chocholous

"'No,' I said within, 'no accusations. No bitterness. No more 'whys.' No more a need to be pampered. By His grace I will walk the course He needs me to walk. Him... not me. His honor...not my safety. His glory, not mine. Him. Him. He alone is worthy. He alone is worthy. 'O my God,' I sobbed within, 'I love you so much. What does this matter?' Though you slay me, yet will I trust you. What does it matter? If I live or die, I am Yours. That is all that matters'..." 

-Heaven Awaits the Bride, Anna Rountree

"This is India?"...

"...wherever the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom. so all of us who have had that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord. And the Lord- who is the Spirit- makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image." 2 Corinthians 3:17-18

just a few of my simple observations over the past few months... but I tend to over-analyze things...

Unprepared and shocked, I flinched. The instructor slapped him hard across the back of head... again. He was a just fourth grader. And as he cowered, afraid of another blow from the angry man, my eyes were the ones filling with tears. I'm sick and tired of hearing the excuse, "This is India." Anytime something goes wrong or some form of  injustice occurs, most will shrug their shoulders and say in a flippant tone, "This is India." I beg to differ. Yes, I understand I'm living in 3rd world country and things are challenging here, but does that mean things can't improve? Maybe not tomorrow, but maybe one day. Sure, I tend to be uncharacteristically positive, but I'm hopeful, and I definitely don't think I'm being unrealistic. Did President Lincoln shrug his shoulders, roll his eyes, and say, "Oh, that's just slavery." No, and thank God he didn't. I realize cultures drastically differ, but should we keep doing things the same way they've been done simply because they've always been done that way? Should kids have to come to school without being given school books for two weeks in a row, many not even bringing pencils because, "This is India." Should trash continue to pile up outside and water remain disease ridden and undrinkable because, "This is India." Should low-caste people be made to wait to eat until after the high-caste have eaten their food because, oh, that's right, "This is India." If you want your claim to fame to be apathy and selfishness, then by all means, keep vomiting up that pathetic excuse, but I believe Jesus calls us to a higher standard. It may require hard work, actually, I can guarantee you that it will be hard, but love is worth the sweat.  Where would we be if our heavenly Father, after the fall, looked down from heaven and said, "Oh, that's just sin." Did he recline in the throne and toss back some more grapes? No, He did something about it... and it cost him his son. I might be just one fish swimming upstream in a rapid, disorienting stream, but I believe Jesus when he said he came to bring us life. And so, even if it costs me my own, slowly I will swim against the current. Yes, "this is India," but amidst the struggle, love compels me forward...

Sometimes as I observe the fly infested mounds of trash, cement blocks with tin roofs, and dusty roads with jagged ruts, I feel somewhat overwhelmed. Like I happened upon a site hit by a hurricane, the devastation surrounds me-- what kind of architects are we? It appears as if all we can do is ruin things. Then I look beyond the heaps and the slabs to the sky-- a canvas of brilliant blue, the cranes and crows soaring upon the winds as the palms leisurely wave in vibrant neon greens-- and we like small children clumsily playing with broken clay and colors, trying to mimic the Creator's genius. Yet we think we are such grand designers...

I find it interesting how the pigs and goats ravage the same garbage piles day after day-- yet there are plenty of food stands, with fresh, hot smells, wafting across the wind, directly toward them. Had they any sense they might impose upon the vendor for something savory and delicious. Perhaps the stench has stifled their smell and they no longer recognize the difference... Or perhaps they are simply content with feasting upon rubbish.

Does anyone else find it almost frightening that in all the world, the smallest of creatures, the mosquito, is the most deadly? It's killed more people than any other animal. If something so small in the natural world dominates and destroys, what about the spiritual world? What small, seemingly subtle things invade upon our heart and suck the life from us? When a mosquito lands on my arm, I kill it. Are we doing the same thing with enemies of our spiritual life or do we let them land and have their fill? Maybe we don't even recognize they bit us, after all, why should it matter? It's such a small thing...

Every day the power in Nuzvid goes out for 1-2 hours. It's random. Sometimes it's the morning, sometimes, it's the afternoon, but either way, it's a sure bet that at some point during the day, the power will shut down. Computers wipe blank. Fans slow to a stop. Bright rooms turn black. And funny (not really) how it always seems to be the hottest hour of the day when this happens. As if the power guys, sitting in their cush chairs in their generator-operated A.C. rooms, watch the temperature gauge, and flip the switch right when it's reached the high. And as the sweat seeps from our pores and we wait for the invented breeze to kick back into gear,  we are left in limbo. Whoever coined the phrase about trying times in life bringing out the best or the worst in us, yep, that pretty much sums it up. And obviously without an outside source of power, we can do nothing on our own. So we endure, all the while discovering who applied deordorant that morning and who didn't... 

The Jacksons

Thought I'd write a shout-out blog to the Jacksons, with a grand total of five kids (Jackson five, comin' at'cha!) and their two (team awesome, holla!) parents-- I honestly can't say enough good, nay, GREAT things about this family. They joined-up here in Nuzvid, India this past March, and it's been an incredible hulk of a journey... for those of you unable to make it out, here's a quick meet&greet. Hold the cameras, no flash please.

Meet Bryan. He's a what you'd get if you mashed personalities between John the Baptist and the beloved disciple John. He's got bold audacity, truth-blazing fire of the Lord and yet, the tender-heart of a father and friend. A rock-solid man of integrity and humility. He's flipping tables in the temple with Jesus then giving you the coat and shirt off his back, and what's that? You need these shoes? It's cool, man. Nah, take 'em. I'm ever-grateful for his example and ever-gleaning from his wisdom, his challenging faith-life, and all those iTunes podcasts of David Hogan sermons. ("Jesus...")

Meet Mindy. With that contagious smile and off-the-charts positive attitude, I'd say she's right up there next to, even a notch above Martha and Mary. She knows how to keep busy- cleaning house, taking non-stop care of five energetic kids- and yet, she knows the importance of sitting at the feet of Jesus. A striking balance not many find easy to obtain, and she does it with grace. Despite challenges on the demanding (understatement!) field of India, she appears to float from hurdle to hurdle like a gold-medal Olympian. With her down-to-earth, sarcastic (Wisconsin, eh?) sense of humor, and a deep compassion for others, I've found her to be a joyful presence and a sincere friend. Most importantly, she's a Proverbs 31 woman to the core. I've learned much from this beautiful woman, and I hope one day to tackle mom-hood as amazing as she does. If we ever get some time back in the states together, the ICED VENTI Chai is on me, my friend. Heck, let's make it two.

Meet Ezekiel. (8) The oldest of the gang, you will most likely find him playing his DS (Digital System) or sticking around for after dinner conversation while chumming his dad for the remainder of his coffee. Which just goes to show, if he's drinking coffee at age eight, there's definitely great things in store for this kid. But seriously. He's super smart and a great big brother- always looking out for his four sibs... like making sure they're not raiding the 4th shelf candy stash, unless of course, mom says it's OK. If you need prophetic insight, he'll be the first to let you know, he's actually a prophet. The Bible says so. You might want to listen to what he says. And let's not forgot his love for The Andy Griffith Show, an automatic plus five cool points.

Meet Abigail. (6) The Precious Moments people should probably coin a doll after this girl. From her adorable grin to her eager enthusiasm, she's a real-life precious moment in the making. She loves to dance and sing and twirl around the room on a old suitcase with wheels. Her favorite food would be, hands down, rice and pedigoo. And if there's candy suckers being divied out, she'll be the first to offer you one, any color! She also has a delightful habit of cracking herself up, almost like a soul-tickle.

Meet Shiloh. (5) I'm pretty sure the invention of a smock was designed with Shiloh in mind. From juicy mangos to mud pies, by the end of the day, he's wearing it all, yet somehow, with that cute smirk of his, he wins you over again. Always the quick one to make new friends, he's got a fun-loving personality and a knack for (mostly) harmless mischief. If you're up for a game of catch, be sure to watch your head, this kids got a wild curve. If you've got a deck of Uno, look out, he's a three-time champ. And if you pinch his cheek, don't be surprised if he pinches yours back.

Meet the twins (3 x 2):

Samara. Samara's best friend is her mom. Often she will accompany her on trips to the bathroom and claim the seat right next to her chair, three out of three meals per day. If there's a broom in the room, my only pre-caution is to step aside as she might sweep you away (literally) with all the dust and crushed bugs. Though shy at times, she's got sparkling blue eyes that filter emotion with passion- happy or sad- she wears it on her sleeve. And work it girl, she sure knows how to throw-up her hands to a good Indian beat or a spirit-led worship song.

Micah, on the other hand, knows the meaning of rough and tumble. I've personally witnessed this kid wipe out, face first, on cement, then get up like it was nothing and run off like a defense tackle, fourth down. And why don't you throw a little dirt and spit on it, while you're at it. From lunch-time curry to potty-training diapers, he's not afraid to leave his mark. And if there's birthday cake or morning Boost involved, move out the way, he'll let you know he's coming.

I love this family and words painfully lack in expressing my sentiments. Grateful to have crossed paths with them? Yes. Blessed beyond measure? Yes. Honored to have shared the fore-fronts of the battle together? Yes. Some of my most fond memories were late at night-- when you "somewhat" stop sweating and there's "somewhat" of a coolish breeze-- Mindy, Bryan, and I (and often one of the sleepless five) would sit out of the roof-top patio and just chill. We'd listen to sermon podcasts, we'd listen to music, (*clears throat* Kevin Prosch) and more often than not, we'd spend time praying together. Like a cool douse of water down the throat and over the head on mile 26, it was pure refreshment for the soul. They are one of the Lord's most valuable gifts to my life. I treasure you all dearly. I will miss you guys. I will pray for you with steadfast love and faith-- pressed down, but not overcome. Crushed, but not destroyed. His love is enough. More than enough. Keep passing out the Bread. And I'll even raise a piping-hot, road-stand chai-- here's to more adventures with Jesus together in the future... India, Nepal, Africa? The lion roars.

Love you guys,

Lish

P.S. Thank you for giving to the Lord. (no, but seriously)

"Farewell. We have known great joys together. If Aslan gave me my choice I would choose no other life than the life I have had and no other death than the one we go to." -The Last Battle, C.S. Lewis

Conversations with "Daddy"

I've met so many people since being in India, but there's a few faces that stand out. I'm not talking about celebrities or politicians, although I must admit, years prior I've had my crazy fan moments, but let's not go there. What I'm talking about is someone that makes a meaningful and lasting impact on your life. One of those people in my life is Pastor Isaac Bandi, whom most people that know him well, simply call "Daddy."

Taking a quick glance at my watch, the time read 12:50 am. I tried my hotel door once again. Locked. Hearing footsteps approaching, I gazed down the empty hall when two shadows turned the corner.

It was my 2nd week in India. Aside from adjusting to food, time change, language barriers, "motions" and an assortment of other challenges, there I stood, locked out of my hotel room in some city I still can't pronounce properly.  Everyone else had gone to bed. We just finished up a huge outreach meeting- I had 18 new mosquito bites on my feet (yes, I counted). Despite the fact that this hotel room was more like some sketchy, drug-deal site south-side Chicago, I was dead-tired, and all I wanted was to lay down and sleep. At this point, not even caring if the mattress was infested with bed-bugs.

The figures approached, it was Pastor Isaac and one of his friends.

"What is it?" he said with his thick, grandfatherly Indian accent.
"Uh, my doors locked and I can't find my key."
"Is it?"

He tried the door. Yep. Still locked. We both stood there, awkward silence. Having only met this man a week prior and though somewhat intimidated of him, I found myself strangely comforted by his presence.

"Where is your key?"
"I put it here..."
*heaving my back-pack to the ground, I showed him the convenient side-pocket
"...but I can't find it."
"There only you kept?"

I nodded as he picked up my back-pack, "Come."

I followed him and his silent, elder friend into his room. He set my pack on a table and began digging through it. After a 10 minute thorough search, which included me pulling out everything I owned, he took a step back, the epitome of calm, "It appears to be missing."

On the verge of tears, all I could do was lamely nod. I felt terrible. I'm not one to usually misplace things, nor did I want them to have to get another hotel room for me, especially since they had already paid for the one currently locked. You might be thinking, what's the big deal, just have them make another key for you. That's just it. The keys were ancient. Like Secret Garden ancient. Each one was different and there was only one for each room. I looked up, teary, the only solution coming to mind--

"I can sleep in the van."
*he broke into his mustached grin, chuckled, seemingly amused at my suggestion

Finding myself utterly exhausted, I turned and walked out of the room, and not really knowing where to go next, sat down on the cold marble staircase. The flow of tears finally rent through my will to hold them back. Less than a minute later, he came and stood before my wilted frame.

"You know, it's a small thing really."

I looked up into his tanned, kind face. His white-haired, arching eyebrows showing tender concern. He spoke something in Telugu to his friend, who disappeared down the stairs, "Come." I followed him back into his room.

He motioned for me to sit down. After several silent minutes and my futile attempts to dry my wet cheeks, he spoke again.

"Are you familiar with the Abraham story?"
I nodded but didn't look up.
"When he thought Isaac was to be lost, the God provided the ram stuck in a bush so there was no need to worry. When you have the faith, the God provides..."
He handed me his worn handkerchief.
"In the Hebrews it says the God will never leave us..."
I finally looked up. Little did he know, this exact verse he just quoted to me, was my life verse. It's the verse I've clung to ever since junior high, when I first came to understand that Jesus was my greatest friend. Through Pastor Isaac's simple words, Jesus spoke, reminding me that He was there-- in the midst of all these unforeseen challenges, He hadn't left me. He was still with me, even half-way across the world in this foreign land. As the Lord went with Abraham into the unknown, He also went with me. He would never leave me.

Pastor Isaac smiled. I smiled back. And somehow, we understood each other.

As for the rest of the story, I didn't have to sleep in the van. The hotel clerk was actually pretty cool and gave me another room, no charge. The mattress in the new room was free of bed-bugs (as far as I know) and we found my room key the next morning... in the van.

Over the past 6 months, this man has become like a very dear grandfather to me. He has a rare depth of wisdom and sincere heart for our Lord I hope one day to obtain. Often he takes me along whenever he goes and speaks. This is only one of my many cherished conversations with "Daddy" which more often than not, tend to revolve around our heavenly Father. Recently as I volunteered to bring and serve a group cool drinks, he likened me to Rebekah (Gen. 24)-- which I took as a very great compliment. I hope to include more conversations throughout this blog, but I hope one day you will be able to have a conversation with this man yourself. If not on earth, in heaven-- look for him at the wedding table, he'll probably be sitting next to Abraham.

UPDATE!

Hey friends! It's been awhile since I've updated the ole' blog. This is due to several factors: 1- the internet has been down for a few weeks. self-explanatory. 2- so much has been happening that I've been overwhelmed at the thought of choosing what to write about, kinda like how I feel when I walk into the downtown Chicago library, so many stories, how could I pick just one? 3- it's dang hot outside! which really shouldn't affect my writing capabilities since the room where the computer is located has air conditioning (Em, please don't give me a hard time about that one) but honestly, the summer here really zaps you of any and all energy, even mental energy-- most days are anywhere from 110-115 degrees plus humidity, it's like living in a sauna with no exit; most people kinda just pass out during the day under a fan somewhere- no joke- even the flies buzz slower...

So, what's this blog about, Lish? Good question. Like I said, a lot has happened over the past few weeks. Here's a few highlights in no particular order, although some do have obvious importance above others:
*tasting goat brain (I'll leave that one up to the imagination), fried baby fish eggs, and boiled chicken liver (preferably not together)
*praying with persecuted believers from Kolkatta, hearing their stories, sharing their tears...
*leading/teaching English worship songs to the "young adult" crowd during retreat week-- hearing "We Want to See Jesus Lifted High" sung by thousands of Indian brothers and sisters will forever be etched in my memory as one of those surreal life moments
*eating Chat (kinda like chilli but kicked up a notch) from a road-stand vendor! (made with local water-- stupid or daring? I'll let you be the judge)
*learning the entire Telugu alphabet and singing a Telugu song for church-- the crowd was all smiles and even clapped along, which is definitely better than having them throw things, which thankfully, hasn't happened yet
*driving through the Indian country-side in a Land Rover at night, stars brilliantly shining, breeze blowing, and happen chancing upon... two guys dropping a deuce on the side of the road in their birthday suits
*teaching/acting out Bible stories to the kids at school-- David and Goliath was a popular favorite, the boys all took the initiative to sling-shot mangos off trees during break
*lice checks... so far, so good
*dancing to Dola de Dola (Bollywood wedding song) on stage with select teachers for Annual day-- white saree, henna on the hands, bangles, and yes, jasmine flowers in my hair
*conversations with Pastor Isaac Bandi-- a blog soon to follow dedicated to this man, don't miss it
*being gifted with a small teddy bear from one of my students-- the bear, when squeezed, says in a cute little voice, "I love you"

Most of all, I'd like to share with you what God has been teaching me, but even that I cannot fully describe. Probably the biggest lesson(s) since being here has been obedience and learning how we, the church, are the bride of Christ. This season of my life has been purifying, being refined through fire, more than any other. More subject for a face-to-face conversation than able to fully convey in a letter. I kinda wish you could pull up a chair, sip some chai with me and we could talk late into the night about Jesus and life together but worlds apart we remain, and we are where we are with purpose. I think of you and pray about you often.

I'll leave you with a couple of meaningful quotes/verse that have impacted my thought recently:

"Oh, how many times the gold is plunged back into the fire- far, far more times than seem necessary. Yet you can be sure the Forger sees impurities no one else can see. The gold must return to the fire again and again until the fire has perfected purity... until the Forger's reflection shines in it!" -Guyon

"My grace is ALL you need. My power works best in weakness..." -2 Cor. 12:9

I guess that about sums things up for now. if you have time, I'd really like to hear how you are doing. If you have facebook, message me an update and any prayer requests. Also, I'd like to give a shout-out to my brother, Than, who just graduated from Liberty University! All hail the conquering graduate! And my brother Jake, who will be graduating from flight school this June! Black-hawk helicopter pilot extreme. Guys, I'm super proud of you. I LOVE YOU.

no turning back,
Lish

What a Waste

Philippians 3:7-8 "...Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all garbage, so that I could gain Christ and become one with him..."

*note: if you have a weak stomach or are easily offended, you may not want to read this entry, or maybe you should...

Upon coming to India, I came upon the realization that there's not many trash cans around this place but there's a lot of trash. I didn't grasp the full gratuity of this until I got here. Except for some of the major cities, there is no sanitation system. The backyard is at your disposal. Literally. Ok. I'll stop with the puns. Anyhow, early on while in Visak (another city), I peeled an orange and couldn't find a waste basket anywhere. Peel in hand, I walked out on the porch and looked around, helpless. To my right stood Syam's brother Danny. I held out the small orange peel with a questioning look-- he simply waved his hand past the balcony and raised his eyebrows as if to say, "Um, anywhere, duh." Somehow, I still didn't feel comfortable just throwing waste anywhere. Maybe it's those "$500 fine for littering" signs that pop up in the recesses of my mind. But this isn't America; this is India.

The open sewage draining or clogging with today's excrements. Wild dogs that wade through it looking for scraps. Men peeing into those same sewage drains in broad daylight. Fresh killed goat hanging by the hooks, still dripping as flies dart to and fro around it. Cow dung piled in the middle of the dusty road. A tractor plowing through that fresh pile leaving a blast of fumes. Trash piles burning mid-evening, faint smells of charcoal rising above the tin roof-tops. This place has an unparalleled authenticity.

Beyond the obvious physicality of this place, I've come to find a people's authentic faith shifting my own. Their hearts as an open wound, beating with every artery of strength, crying out to their Maker. When people ask for prayer here, they mean now. "Pray for me," isn't a flippant request as each goes his or her merry way. They will show you what pains them-- one lady after a village church service, pointed out her head, I touched her head, prayed for her. Then her stomach. I prayed again. Then her knee. And again, holding her knee, I prayed for healing. When a pastor calls for prayer, more than one voice rises. The entire crowd begins to pray, to cry out to the Lord. On their faces, bowing, weeping before God Almighty.

These are people of raw faith.

I think, maybe, in America we've become experts at hiding things. Yes, our sewage is underground where no stray dogs will swim through it (and don't get me wrong, for that I am thankful) but what about our faith? What about our spiritual heart? When pastors ask who wants to receive Christ, why do they command the audience to close their eyes and bow their heads? Should we hide our new-found faith because, gasp, someone might be looking? Didn't Paul say, "For I am not ashamed of this good news about Christ. It is the power of God at work, saving everyone who believes."  Every one of the disciples, excluding John, was martyred for their faith. If we can't even be bold enough to proclaim his name in front of a family of believers, how can we expect to live for him in the world, much less die for him-- if it came to that. Or when we ask, "Who wants prayer?" in typical American churches, maybe one or two, a handful at most, will step forward. Here, crowds bombard the front. There's been times when I'm just overwhelmed, thinking, "Lord, we need more help up here praying for these people. There are so many..."

Why is this? I think that fear may be crippling the American church far worse than the physical ailments of the people in India. Fear of what? Being found out? Guess what, we're all sinners in desperate need of a Savior. If we, the body, can't even come to grips with that basic foundation of our Christian faith, there's something deep within that remains unsettled.

And there the orange peels rots, out in the open.

*Comments welcome. I'm still working through this myself...

Updated Prayer Requests

Hey all, please continue to lift us up in prayer! It is needed to the max.
Love,
Alisha

Prayer Requests:
1)Jyothsna (pronounced "Josnah")- she is my dearest friend here, and a HUGE help to the Bandi's (taking care of the kids, cleaning, etc.) she is going to the hospital for her feet this week- they are extremely infected, the doctor here could do nothing for her and referred her to a skin specialist in Vijayawada (hospital about 45-60 min. away); please pray for healing, it is extremely painful for her to walk
2)Syam Bandi- his headaches/migraines have been getting worse- waking up with vomiting, etc; he also suffers from diabetes which could play a role in the headaches; pray for healing, strength, etc...
3)ANNUAL DAY- the end of the school year is THIS WEEK! which means the end of the school year program is this Sunday (4/17); please pray that many families, kids will be reached with the love of Christ through the drama; pray that the sound system would work, the kids would remember steps, Bobby and Nehemiah (two teachers helping act in it) would be confident on stage, ect.; mainly just pray that hearts would be touched by Jesus
4)Meetings/Outreaches-May- this is a huge month for outreach meetings in all the villages/towns around India, things are about to kick into full gear; pray for strength, energy for the many pastors, especially for Bryan Jackson, Syam and Isaac Bandi as they attend and preach at many of these, and that people would come to know Christ and believers would be encouraged in their faith
5)the Jacksons- last month another solid missionary family joined us here in India; Bryan & Mindy and their 5 kids: Ezekiel, Abigail, Shiloh, Micah and Samara (twins!); please pray for strong health, pray for smooth transitions, pray for favor and wisdom as Bryan and Mindy face new challenges on the mission field and new home of India; they are awesome.