Once Upon a Time- {How 1 month in India changed my life}

"How did I become to so blessed to grow up in the country that I did? How is it that, what I can pack in 80 gallons worth of backpack space, is worth more than what these kids will ever see in their lifetime?”  It feels just like yesterday, that I nodded in silent agreement, at loss for anything else, at my squad mate’s question.  She voiced what we were all thinking.  It was the same thoughts, questions and conversations with God, that I had each and every day as I walked passed the shanty village, to and from Grace Home; our sight of ministry for the month. 

If I am being really honest with you, India was the one month on the World Race that I was NOT looking forward to.  In fact, I will even go as far and say that I was dreading each and every moment of it.  Nonetheless, it is in India that I found myself in October 2013. 

Despite the fact that India has become one of those months that I don’t find myself talking a whole lot about, I am continuing to realize how perfectly timed it was that God placed it into my life when He did.  3 years later and the impact remains. 

It is in India, where I ate more rice and curry than I ever thought possible and it is in India that I TRULY discovered my love for authentic chai tea regardless of the sweat pouring off my face in the +40 degrees Celsius temperatures.  It is in India, where I (we) aimlessly followed our fearless (female) contacts through a literal wall of fire set ablaze across the street (after having been yelled at in a foreign language, by locals on motorbikes). It is in India, that teammates and I hopped on a Tuk Tuk and told the driver to “take us on an adventure”, all for only 10 cents. It is in India, that I learned that Larry the cucumber was right-not only does everyone WANT a water buffalo…everyone HAS MULTIPLE water buffalos! It is in India, where team mates and I unknowingly ‘crashed’ an Indian wedding.  It is in India, where I discovered that “OFC” was the next best thing to KFC- just don’t ask what the “O” stood for…and, thanks to India, I can officially take “survive an international newsworthy typhoon” OFF my bucket list.  Ironically enough, it is also because of my experience IN India, that led me to even consider the current profession I am in (direct support worker with adults with Intellectual/physical disabilities); I truly believe that my time in India, has given me an unique understanding/perspective (and passion) for my job each and every day.

More importantly; it was in India, that I truly began to become aware of the spiritual world around me.  It is in India, where the Holy Spirit began to make His presence known in my life.  It is in India, where a squad-mate spoke a bold Truth INTO my life; thus challenging me and giving me a different perspective on who I was.  It is in India, where rooftop worship became one of my highlights of the entire 11 months and sleeping in my one person tent-took one a whole new meaning.

It is in India, that I fell in love with the ‘lowest of the low’ on India’s Caste system; (special need) orphans and widows and it is in India, that God showed me what it truly meant to give up everything for Him through women younger than me, foster mom’s Hannah, Sarah, and Jenny.  Young women Natasha and Abby also gave up their lives in North America, to serve Jesus in India.  Shout out to all you ladies-thank you for being an inspiration. In India; God furthered showed me my passion FOR those with HIV/AIDS through Nora, a young girl with a world of opportunities before her.  India is where I met “Wendy”, a young lady who suffered a stroke at a young age which lead to Cerebral palsy; but it is her gorgeous smile, incredible strength and a bold uniqueness that God has used to change my life.  This Wendy also happened to share the same name of my own auntie Wendy- another lady with a story uniquely her own but who shares that same beautiful smile, incredible strength and a bold uniqueness that God has also used numerous of times within my life.  Through both of these ladies, God joined to totally different worlds and used them both equally to begin to teach me the power of (physical) healing power within Him.

I don’t know why God allowed me to be born into the country that I have been.  As I walked by the shanty villages, the thought of ‘that so easily could have been me’ wasn’t too far out of my mind.  Although India was FAR from being an ‘easy’ month on every level, what I experienced was NOTHING compared to what the locals live through each and every day.  Truth is, I honestly don’t know if the young naked child who held my hand every day on the walk to Grace Home, is still alive.  I don’t know if her home consisting of scrap metal, wood, cardboard and anything else random, withstood the latest downfall of rain.  I don’t know the last time she had a bath in clean water, or even DRANK clean, non-toxic water.  In North America; law suits would quickly be set up and fancy lawyers would be pointing fingers at one another because of human right violations…but for this little girl, and those like her around the globe who I’ve had the true honour of walking with and holding, if even for a moment, I can only pray.   I can only pray to God above that, above all else, He will hold them and never let go.  Believing that one day, God will rise them up and place them right next to Him in the eternal realm of Glory.  After all, the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to children such as these.

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To learn more about organization I worked along side; click here 

Home Sweet Home: Summer 2016

Summer 2016 has been an interesting (and strange) summer for me.  The funny, and slightly ironic, thing is I’ve barely left my small Mennonite home town that I’ve grown up in.  This summer marked the first summer in 3 years that I have worked full time hours.  That simple reason, played a large part into me ‘staying put’.  However, even with working, I have been able to maximize my evenings, weekends and the long weekends to their fullest potential.  In turn, I have not felt as though I have somehow ‘missed out’ on summer. For that, I am thankful.
 

Unknown to me at the start of it, summer 2016 also proved to be a summer in which I would continue to wrestle intensely within my own heart.  While I still stand by what I have said in earlier posts about being at peace with where God has me now, I’ve been realizing lately that I have this ongoing need to ‘process’ key events over the last few years of my life to help me continue to grow personally and spiritually.  Thank you to those who continue to walk alongside me in this rollercoaster journey.  As part of this journey, I am trying to figure out different ways in which will allow me to share/process/heal/learn from the many adventures.  In the past, I have always turned to journaling privately- recording thoughts, feelings and emotions of a certain place, moment, story, or event.  Capturing moments on a photograph, has also helped in this as well.  Thank you to a wonderful APP called “Timehop”, each day I am treated to photos, posts, status updates and much much more on a daily basis.  

So what does any of this have to do with anything?  

There is a saying that goes, “Home is where the Heart is”.  While I don’t disagree with this statement, I find that it brings about a whole new set of challenges and heartaches-especially when one’s heart is scattered around the globe.  I find myself asking, ‘If home is where the heart is, what happens when your heart isn’t in one exact place-but in multiple places on earth?  What happens when we are in one location, doing what we love to do, but our hearts yearn to be elsewhere with the people who are there”?  If home is where the heart is, then where is my home?”

“Timehop”, along with a recent post by a world race teammate, recently got me thinking to the people, places, cultures, stories, emotions and events in which I have not chosen to share for whatever reasons-specifically in regards TO my World Race experiences.  So, I have decided that, at least once a month, I will post a blog about the country I was in three years ago while ON the World Race.  I am not quite sure how this will fully take forum yet.  Some months it may simply be a photo blog, while others maybe a combination of race blogs I posted at the time along with personal journal entries.  Other months, may simply highlight my teams ministry contacts and share about the on going work that they are continuing to be apart of.  After all; it is through them and their wide range of passions and ‘callings’, that have truly inspired and taught me about life and what it means to live a life of sacrifice.

When Death Come Knocking (Eternal Glory)

There comes a point in one’s life, where we all have no choice but to face death.  It is simply a ‘normal’ part of life.  We are born as babies who grow into toddlers, kids, pre-teens, teens, young adults and, eventually (hopefully) we mature into adults.  For the majority of us, our lives will end sometime during our ‘senior’ years.

But what happens when “death comes knocking” way too early in life?  Miscarriages, still born, cancer, ‘freak’ accidents, and incurable diseases (HIV/AIDS) to name a few, and those we love are ‘taken’ from us before we are ready to let them go?

We (I) are (am) quick to question God.  Quick to ask, ‘where is He?’ ‘Doesn’t He love us?’ and ‘how could He allow this to happen’.  Or, one that I have been asking (saying to) myself a lot lately is, “I though God was/is a God of miracles…this would have been a ‘prime time’ to have shown that.  Way to ‘miss’ this chance God”.

Although there is a freedom in knowing it is ‘okay’ to ask…it doesn’t take the hurt/pain away from losing a loved one…whether they were with us for a few minutes or many many years.  There is never enough time.  Eventually, we all will ‘run out of time’.  

Morbid?? Perhaps.

Reality….absolutely.

Recently, I have been forced to deal with two people who have died, in my opinion, way too early in life.  Although these two people are from two very different sides of my heart…one a blood relative and one not, they are both a part of my family and saying ‘Good-bye’ is never easy.  Although the words, “At least they are in a better place, alive and well” are meant to be a form of an encouragement, they are not.  It hurts and it flat out sucks.  I have also yet to come up with an answer to the question, “How are things going?”  My default answer, “considering the shitty situation at hand, not ‘bad’”.

I am well aware that death is a topic that makes many people (including myself) uncomfortable simply because we do not know how to respond or act to death itself.  Reality also is, that life goes on.  The living are still living and the mundane of everyday life, continues.  Where do we find the balance of mourning the loss of a loved one, yet rejoicing in the life that they DID live…regardless of the number of years they were given here on earth.

Isn’t it interesting how scripture speaks to our hearts in that exact moment in which we need it?  Even though it may be from a passage in which we have read thousands times before?  Psalm 139 is a Psalm that I love and have read countless number of times. Yet recently, when I was reading it to my small group of girls at youth, verse 16-18 struck me in a way that it never has prior.  

It reads…

“Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them!  Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—when I awake, I am still with you”.

Life is a gift.  It is meant to be treasured and fought for.  What we do with the time we are given here on earth, is so important.  It’s not about having the newest, hottest ‘toy’ or having the biggest house.  It is about the relationships we have with those around us.  More importantly, it is about our relationship with God and trusting Him, to work through our lives and IN everything that we do no matter the situation we may be facing. 

At the end of my life, whatever day that was ordained for me in His book, all I crave, is to see the face of my Maker before me and to hear Him say,

“Welcome to Eternal Glory.  Well done, good and faithful servant.  Welcome Home”.