memorial

The man in the middle of the picture is named Ananea Rao. He was the lead pastor for the first two camps. He is truly a man devoted to serving the Lord and the people God has placed under his shepherding. His wife made our meals everyday, catering to some of the needs of those with weaker stomachs (though our group was very flexible and ate nearly everything). He also has a daughter who is studying to become an engineer at a university far away from her home. She wouldn't be the only child if swimming accident hadn't taken the life of her younger brother a few months back.

The boy was actively involved in the previous two camps at this location. Our staff recalled him as energetic and a lover of God's Word. He moved into the role of junior counselor helping the younger campers grow in their knowledge and love of Jesus Christ. Our group was informed of this information before we started the camp, but it was never pushed to the service with all the business of running the camp. On the last day, the American team was given garlands as a thank you for our coming to India. After taking pictures with the campers, Jerry mentioned giving using the garlands to decorate the grave of the son which rested next to the church. We shared the idea with Sanjay who thought it was a good idea. He was planning on holding a time of prayer for the family before leaving on the last day.

Once most of the children had left for their villages, we gathered around the grave for a time of prayer. After Sanjay prayed for the family (who are still grieving, but maintaining their hope in Christ) we all laid our garlands on top of the boy's grave. I don't think their was a dry eye as we got to experience the blessing of being members of Christ's body. The truth of sharing in one another's joy and grief came alive. We felt as though we had lost a close friend as well, but we were able to encourage one another because of who our God is. It was an unexpected blessing God graciously bestowed upon us, and allowed us to minster once again to our brothers and sisters in India.

last camp for a bit

We finished the last of our January camps yesterday. We arrived home late last night and will spend Monday recovering from all the running around we have been doing. The camp itself was another success. However, it was significantly different from the other two.

For the first part, I was the only white person there. Whereas the other camps saw other Americans who could entertain the campers, I exhausted much more energy trying to fulfill everyone's interest in the "American." The finer details were not as smoothly covered. There was a lot more chaotic moments and flexibility needed. But God proved once again that He is far greater than our hiccups. He also demonstrated His Word truly does not return to Him void when it is spoken. As with the other camps, the time was a testament to who our God is.

(The two Best Camper award winners. They are given based on involvement in the electives, responses during their time with counselors, and general attitude during the camp. The young lady was impressive in her demeanor and wise in her answers. The young boy was filled with energy and excitement about camp. Both were saved before camp, but committed to studying and reading more in God's Word.)

(These girls were in the youngest group. They ran me crazy and laughed at me many times. They liked to speak Telugu, knowing full well I couldn't understand them, and then laugh as I tried to translate what they were saying. They did enjoy playing catch with me as they learned I can be quite fancy with my passing.)
(These were the four oldest girls at the camp, not counting the counselors. They listened, studied, and learned well over the three days. The one to the left asked if I could take her to America with me to which I said sure. Quickly the other three asked to come along too. They also liked to laugh at me because apparently white Americans are funny.)
(The boys at this camp we like typical American children: full of energy and hard to manage at times. We had to do more monitoring of behavior than the other camps because they got distracted very easily. They also didn't understand want "later" or "not now" meant in regards to playing with the balls. Still, they were fun and expressed significant growth in the things of God at the camp.)

here I raise my Ebenezer

The word Ebenezer means "stone of help." It comes from the 1 Samuel 7:12 when Samuel sets up a reminder for how the LORD gave the Israelites a convincing victory over the Philistines. Last night I had the privilege of meeting a young boy (14 years old) named Ebenezer. I forgot to take my camera along, otherwise there would a picture of him here. Hopefully, I will get a chance to see him again next month.

I met him at a prayer meeting I attended with three staff members. It is intended for parents caring for the needs of and/or individuals with special needs, both physical and mental. The time is set aside for singing, a short devotional, and prayer for each and every person in attendance. Sanjay was unable to attend last night (he and Keren were celebrating the anniversary of their engagement), so I was placed in the trusted hands of his staff. Before going, Sanjay asked me to deliver the message for the evening. God placed on my heart Isaiah 41:8-10, which was a passage He had me meditate on over and over again throughout the course of last year. It was a wonderful experience sharing words God used to comfort me in order to help others who were hurting. But back to Ebenezer we must go.

I met this particular boy before the service even started. He is the son of the pastor whose church housed the evening's events. I caught a glimpse of him in the back as we walked in, and officially met him shortly thereafter. He is a severely handicapped boy. He body is twisted and contorted unlike anyone I have seen in person. He has been so since birth, and all prognoses are he will carry on this way until death. Upon first glance I felt pity for this boy whose face is always turned down because of the way his body is mangled. To look up he has to strain his neck just to get a passing glance. As soon as we started speaking, I learned this boy was not someone to be pitied. If anything I was the one in need of such.

He spoke English surprisingly well. He asked where I came from, why I was here (to which I answered "to see you"), and other questions to get a better idea of who I was. He said "thank you" to all my answers, and then asked me to sit next to him on the bed. I placed my hand on his shoulder (which was nothing but sheer bone), and he tried to place his hand in mine. Because he can't control his movements, our hands didn't stay connected for too long. This frustrated him, so I told him I would leave it in a general location where he could brush along it as he moved. I think my idea satisfied him. The staff with me gave him treats which made him laugh and shout "praise the Lord," causing everyone else to chuckle.

As our conversation slowed down, Ebenezer asked me to do what my heart already desired: pray with him. The staff surrounded the two of us as we laid our hands on Ebenezer to pray. I don't remember all of my petition, but I praised God for the life and spirit of this young man. I thanked Him for the witness Ebenezer is to the transforming power of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I prayed for God to heal him if it was His desire or to provide Ebenezer with the grace needed to continue on. As I ended, Ebenezer once again said "praise the Lord" and "thank you." His older brother came over to him, and Ebenezer whispered something in his ear. Before I knew it, Ebenezer had broken out into singing. The song was a old familiar in English, but I can't remember it. There was something about all the earth praising the Lord. I listened joyfully as one of God's children in the least desirable position imaginable sang his heart out. My mind quickly went home to a dear sister from church who sings exactly the same way. Neither she, nor Ebenezer have any reason to keep from singing, which is a challenge to the rest of us.

It was the best way God could have started off a time of worship with members of Christ's body. My heart went through the rest of the night rejoicing, and continued long after I got back where fresh vegetables (my favorite) were waiting for me to consume. And having learned my lesson, I sang the praises of my God.

groom(al) shower

One of the staff from LCMI is getting married tomorrow (yes, I get to attend an authentic Indian wedding and there will be pictures to prove it). Last night we were invited to his family's house for some celebration. The culture is for both the bride and groom to have showers celebrating the wedding. The festivities are held for each member in their respective homes. Once they begin, the bride and groom will not see one another until the wedding ceremony (talk about suspense). There is no limit to have many of the showers a family can have, so last night's was the third of four. I got to take pictures (and some video) of the event, and they even let me partake in one of the traditions.
This tradition involves painting (with your hands) the entire body of the groom with a concoction made from termite poo. It doesn't have a smell, but they say it is good for the skin. Basically, all the women in attendance take turns smearing the paste all over the groom's body. Almost every inch is covered in the yellow mix. Of course the excitement causes the ladies to lose control and start painting the faces and other exposed areas of one another. It's actually very entertaining to watch. Once all the women were finished, they asked me to "finish him off" before he took his shower. I scooped a small portion into my hands and moved from Martin's left ear to his right, and then under his chin. Every one laughed as I told him he looked "stunning."
It was definitely one of the most entertaining evenings I have had thus far.

the village of Poe

Last month I mentioned a book written about the happenings in my classroom last year. It shares the same title as this post. The author spent a number of days last year observing the students placed under my care. He thought about ways he could help reach them as well as ideas I might try. We didn't always agree, but I appreciated his input even though I might not have expressed it as often as I should have.

I brought the book along to India since I figured I would have plenty of time for reading given all the travel I would be doing. I began portions of it on the plane ride over and finished it the other day. Going in I was nervous about how I might look from an objective viewpoint. I knew of the failures I experienced last year, and part of me wanted to ensure I would remain the only one "in the know." As I read it, God used various sections to humble me. As I wrote in my journal, there were times when I came across as lacking in knowledge, know-how, enthusiasm, patience, and compassion. That was rather hard to read and even harder to swallow. But as I remembered conversations I had with various teachers at the beginning of this year my heart overwhelmed with praise. People saw something in my students and me by the end of last year. I don't know what it was, but I know who was responsible for it. Reading the book reminded me that God's power is clearly made perfect in my weakness. I was able to put the book down with a smile on my face and a song on my lips.

What I also found while reading were fond memories pushing through the clouds. The book documented a lot of the pain, anger, and grief swirling through my classroom. Those same realities were the focus of many prayers and tears on my part last year. Seeing how God pulled me through, I could now look back and see the many laughs that were also shared. There were definitely as many moments of fun and joy as there were hardship and pain. Unfortunately, we typically don't see them until we make it through. I am grateful to my Father for allowing me the privilege of working with this bunch and testing my faith along the way. I know full well this was His plan from the beginning.

Even though both these students and their teacher have moved on I am challenged not to let my prayers for them follow suit. More than academic and social success I earnestly pray for the Spirit's work in their lives.

The picture below is from our Thanksgiving feast we shared in together. Now I pray it is the table set for us in heaven where we can dine together without pain, fear, and sorrow in the presence of our Savior. It seems impossible, but we know what God can do with the impossible.

O Lord, you are Lord of the harvest. I don't know if I planted the seed, worked the soil, watered the crops, harvested, or merely gathered the tools. Salvation belongs to you alone and I pray you grant it unto the Rock, I'm New, the Pretender, June O'Sullivan, Amelia Badilia, Bobby Kennedy, the Drummer, Secret Squirrel, Jada Pinkett, the Prophet, Jeremiah, Crown Jewel, Winnie the Pooh, Moses, the Wanderer, Laura Engels, Mo Betta, Jimmy Dean, Marie Antoinette, Friar Tuck, Sister Pearlina, A-rod, Two of a Kind, the Rabbit, and Late Addition through the working of your Spirit in accordance with your will. Heal their wounds, wipe their tears, turn their sorrow into singing. May we dine again together in your presence at the great feast of the Lamb. And may it all be to the glory of your most holy and wonderful Name. Amen.

the village people

Both camps were held on the outskirts of small villages. We got to tour both, but I only brought my camera for the first (whoops). The people quickly came out of their houses and/or stopped working to observe the white people observing them. They were quite warm and accepting giving us tours of houses and showing us how life in the village runs.

(working the rice fields and doing some sifting there)

(getting water from the village's well)
(sifting the rice after the ox-driven plow separates the rice seeds from the stalks...this man was nothing but smiles)
(the ladies watching our group pass through and smiling for our pictures)

pictures anyone?

I'm not in a very thought-provoking mindset today. The day has been spent relaxing after taking the Newsong team to the airport at 3:00 this morning. I slept from 6 to 11 and drank two cups of coffee to cover the rest. Therefore I will simply let you enjoy a few pictures of my time in India thus far.

(the middle schoolers practicing their Noah's ark skit)

(yours truly has started the newest Indian dancing craze since the belly dance...Cotton Eye Joe)
(the older teens at the first camp, two of which [those on each side of me] accepted Christ and desire to live a life of service by sharing the good news of Jesus Christ with their families, friends, and villages)
(my winning "over-under" relay team of lower elementary kids who won three out of the four relays we took part in)