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.
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.
can't wait to meet him.:)
ReplyDeletesee you soon, Lish Coco.
s
Hi Alisha.. I am an indian too.. I loved your writing and trust me I am glad that in such a short period you have known a lot about india.. Still just wana say that You are Awesome!! Best Wishes fo all days to come;)
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