"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...