August 5, 2011 - My Offering, His Sacrifice
It’s hard to believe that the end is nearly here. For all of us on the team this has been a week of goodbyes to our friends and ministry partners here in Kolkata, and it’s bittersweet as we leave people we’ve come to love even in the short time that we’ve been here.
For me, leaving the youth at Pramodnagar slum in northern Kolkata was one of the hardest moments of the entire trek. The past three weeks I’ve been working with the KCM staff as they developed a youth ministry in the slum, so I spent time with the teenage boys – playing football and other games, as well as visiting their families – and I led the youth activities at the family camp that KCM hosted. All in all, my time with the youth was one of the most rewarding aspects of my time in Kolkata.
When it was time to leave, most of the boys were tearful and they all gave me and Phoebe gifts. It was very moving as they all placed their hands on a present to give it to us to show us that it came from all of them. As we said goodbye the boys told us that they would miss us and that we were their best friends.
This was when the reality of the slums hit me the hardest. Even though I’d spent the past month seeing the deplorable living conditions and the unbearable poverty, for the first time I saw the extent to which most of the people in the slum are deprived of love and affection. While I’d enjoyed spending time with the boys I know that I’m not their best friend. At most I spent 15 hours with them over the past few weeks. Surely, I thought, I’ve not done anything worthy of their sadness or even their gratitude.
But in a place where the caste system still has a strong presence, it meant more than I can ever imagine that someone from outside their slum would just come and spend time with them. It was in my leaving that I first saw how the forces of oppression have so completely destroyed the feelings of dignity and self-worth that every human being ought to have. I didn’t offer anything to the youth group at Pramodnagar, yet the little of myself that I did offer meant so much to the people I encountered.
It’s amazing how much Jesus is needed in this place. When I reflect on the Gospel I’m reminded that my self-worth and my dignity aren’t found in anything that I can do; I’m a broken, sinful person. Rather, Jesus gave me a new identity when He gave His full last measure of devotion by sacrificing Himself for me in the most humiliating, excruciating way. I find my self-worth in Christ alone. It’s only this notion of love and grace that can break through the systems of injustice that have resulted in the poverty and oppression of the slums. It’s only Jesus who can transform the youth in Pramodnagar (and anyone else in Kolkata) and give them hope for their lives and for their future.
Would the people in Kolkata come to know the abounding love of Jesus Christ, and as they come to know Him as Lord would their lives and their city be transformed, so that God might be glorified. This is our prayer.
-Thomas
July 27, 2011 - Choices
Krista-Dawn and Joel Kimsey are directing the Kolkata Trek, and will post entries from a perspective of parenting and directing.
Choice also seems to be equal to happiness in my circles. Students are happier if they feel they can choose what they do in their day. My kids are happier if they can choose what to eat or who to play with. But yesterday we went to Mahadeb’s village and my assumption that choice equates happiness came into question.
Village life is hard. I think it is incredibly hard for women. Arranged marriages are still most common, so as a woman you meet the man you will live with once before the ceremony. Then you move into your husband’s family home, made of mud and straw. You cook all the meals that will take most of the morning.
I could imagine vital parts of me dying after a day living their life. But the women I met were vibrant. I’m pretty sure more vibrant than I am after choosing a pedicure. I wasn’t with them long enough to assess if they were happy and fulfilled with life. But I did not meet the beaten down lifeless forms that I would have expected from that kind of rigid life. Are they vital and vibrant because they found a way to choose to be joyful, or are they vibrant because that comes from something other than their power to choose? I don’t know. They are messing up all my categories.You clean the floors with a combination of cow dung and mud that you spread on the floor, and then sweep away once dry. You need to change out of your sari to go to the bathroom, putting on another one that is reserved for the toilet, then walk out into the jungle to do your business, and come back to change back into your other sari. You eat the meal that you worked on all morning after your husband and guests, and most likely not at the table, but on the floor in the kitchen. Most of your responsibilities and actions in the days, months and years ahead are already determined for you. You have no ability to choose otherwise. Their life is so foreign to my experience of being a woman that I don’t know if I could do it even for a week. And even if I could say in Bengali, “Hey, let’s just you and me enjoy the day and blow off all this housework to go into the city for a pizza and pedicure!” they wouldn’t have a clue what I was talking about on so many levels.
July 26, 2011 - Showing Up
It’s hard to fully show up. I think that skill is getting less and less honed in my scattered ways of being at home. Between social networking, changes in occupation that required moves, and my own drive to be important keeping me busy, it is quite easy to have my body be one place and my mind be in another zip code.
This city makes it hard to fully show up. You can only bear witness to what you’ve been willing to face, and there’s a lot here that’s hard to face. I find myself still stymied when I hear stories that don’t end heroically. How can it be that someone just stops going to school because they can’t afford 3 books? How is it possible that someone who is following God gets sick and never has enough money to go to a good doctor to prevent permanent disablement? When that person sits in front of me, telling me her story, I feel bombarded by my internal monologue. What can I do, who can I ask to help, how can we get her what she needs fast? Am I responsible for this person’s suffering? Am I responsible for relieving this person’s suffering? Why does God let things get so out of control? I run inside my head and forget that I’m still sitting in front of her, and she is looking at me. She doesn’t seem to have the same difficulty being present to me. What can I offer her at that moment?
There is a divide among Christians in missions, those who have more of a desire to do something (like start a business, build a school etc.) and those who have more of a desire to be among (move into the neighborhood and live life alongside). We have the benefit of being with both kinds of people here in the city, and it seems to me that both have a common starting place that is in itself challenging. Showing up. Regardless of whether you are eating a snack together in your hut, or training someone in sewing skills, you have to choose to be present to that person in front of you. You have to choose to look someone in the eye, and see whatever state they are in. You have to choose to use your mouth to form a question that will engage their soul, or say something that will validate their experience. You have to allow what you see and hear and smell to engage your mind and your heart. We all have hands to eat with, minds to learn Bengali phrases, feet to walk over to someone to initiate a conversation. An engaged heart, a merciful presence, a people-focused mind, these are the things that are hardest to give and yet we carry them around wherever we are. I’m personally glad that the Trek purposefully whittles away other “productive” ways of contributing to people’s lives here. We have only a few dollars and no program. For these 7 weeks it shows me how much I need God’s mercy to transform what I currently do have control over, myself.
July 19, 2011 - How Beautiful are the Feet
This past weekend some of the women on our team had their most personal encounter with the brokenness here in Kolkata. Paige, Mary, and Hannah were exploring the city during their Sabbath rest on Saturday. When they stopped to look at shoes they met a man begging on the street. While we all see hundreds of beggars on the streets everyday this time was different. Paige felt a strong urging to stop and talk to the man, and Hannah felt the need to pray for him. The man, whose name was Rajesh, was unable to walk because both of his legs were infected. The infection was so bad that his legs were literally rotting, with maggots living in his flesh.
After interacting with Rajesh he asked them if they would take him to the hospital, but they realized they couldn’t because we don’t have the resources as a team to pay for medical care for other people. So he asked if he could be taken to the Sisters’ of Charity. It became clear to Paige, Mary, and Hannah that God was asking them to help Rajesh, so they agreed.
They took a taxi to a house for crippled and disabled men, but the Sisters were at prayer, and after three hours of waiting the Sisters’ could not admit Rajesh, they were told to take him back to where they had found him.
On the way back in the taxi Rajesh kept telling them that it wasn’t a problem, but he was clearly crushed and fell onto Paige and sobbed. Paige put her arm around Rajesh and prayed over him, and when he saw that she was crying he reached up and wiped her tears.
Needless to say, Saturday night was one of our hardest nights in this city as our team realized first-hand just how powerful the forces of darkness can be in this place. Sadly, Rajesh is just one of millions looking for a glimpse of hope.
After church on Sunday the women on our team once again returned to the center of the city to look for Rajesh and to try to take him to the Sisters’ again. After a long search they found him again and went to the Mother House where he was welcomed. This was a good ending to a hard weekend. Praise Jesus.
Talking to Paige tonight she told me that even though Rajesh has nothing and she has so much that through the simple gesture of wiping away her tears he taught her more about love and compassion than anyone else she’s ever encountered.
For most of us on the team we’re finding that we hate that a place like Kolkata has to exist. We hate that hundreds of years of sin and spiritual oppression have resulted in the pain and hardship that we encounter every day. Even so, we’re finding that there is goodness here in people like Rajesh, and we know that God is at work in this place. Our hope for this city, for this world, and for our own lives is in Jesus alone.
-Thomas
July 19, 2011 - The Blessing and Curse that is Kolkata
I can’t sleep. It’s 1:24 am, but I only got home a little while ago from a scripture study that is guaranteed to keep you up at night. Luke 16: 19-31 – The Rich Man and Lazarus. I love studying scripture in other parts of the world because being in different contexts help make the Word come alive in such different ways. Kolkata is such a gift for us, as there are lepers, and blind men begging and people who are treated as “unclean” all around us just as they were for Jesus. As a team we were discussing how we have seen the same scene as poor Lazarus, too weak to shoo the dogs away from licking his sores, sits begging at the gate of a certain rich man.
One student offered a scenario she saw just yesterday. On her way to her placement, she noticed a man sitting on the sidewalk. That would not be at all unusual since we pass by hundreds every day, but this one was sitting in his own blood. Not knowing what to do in this foreign culture, and since literally dozens of local people were also witnessing this at the same moment, she walked on to arrive at her ministry site. Not long after, another co-worker arrived distraught because she had also seen the same man, and had noticed that his leg was cut off. She too had walked by. How is this possible? How can a city exist where people are literally dying on the streets and hundreds of people do not flinch. I have seen the most disturbing human deformities in this place, and as they beg for money, I too am so shocked that I can hardly move, even to give whatever coins I have. It is sometimes impossible for me to look at some in the eye because of how much fear rises in me from their suffering.
This parable in Luke makes the hair stand up on my neck because it’s clear that there are eternal consequences to a lack of relationship with the poor. The poor man is in heaven because evil was done to him and he is now receiving the comfort that is just. The rich man is in hell because he didn’t take any opportunity to build a relationship with Lazarus and kept all he had to ensure for himself a good life. Witnessing Kolkata feels like a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it’s a clear picture of what a society looks like when the evils of dehumanization, selfishness and greed are allowed to run at full force for hundreds of years. A curse because we are the rich in this global parable, and after being here we can now never go back to not knowing that we have neighbors who really are literally dying at our gate. There is no easy answer in what to do with that knowledge, but tonight I’m plunged into deeper levels of gratitude for the grace that our loving Father gives me as I try again tomorrow to engage the people in this city.
-Krista-Dawn
July 17, 2011 - Confessions of the Known
There are things we know, and things we know we do not know.
“Because as we know, there are known knowns, there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns. The ones we don’t know we don’t know.”
-Donald Rumsfeld
I’ve never quoted Donald Rumsfeld before. I am not a fan of his work, or of his communication style. But his phrase “There are things we know, and things we know we do not know” has come to mind here a lot, particularly when I think about danger. As a parent of 2 who are totally unconcerned with disease and hygiene, I am a walking color-coded threat level system. “Watch out for the dog poop! Don’t pick up that rock! When was the last time you washed your hands? How many times to I have to tell you not to touch the bottom of your feet?” As we have travelled to over 12 countries with our kids, I don’t consider myself an anal-retentive germophobe, or very risk averse. But, I’m always questioning if what is happening right now a manageable yellow level threat or a red-level run the opposite way kind of threat.
This past weekend we went to a coastal town called Digha to take a few days away from the regular schedule & hear God’s perspective on our first half of the trip. Students were very excited to go. There’s the ocean and a pool, it’s a new place to explore. I was not as excited. New = new surroundings to check for cleanliness, new people to say no to when they come to take Gabriella out of my arms because she is so adorable, new dangers around water, new ways of getting around that vary in hair-raising adrenaline. How to get out of this highly defended stance towards daily life? I don’t subscribe to the line of thinking that “If you’re in God’s will then He will protect you from all harm”. I have too many friends who have been solidly doing God’s will and solidly harmed both physically and emotionally. But what to hold if you let go of that super-hero picture of God as your Father?
Over the weekend we studied one of those crystal clear passages in 1 John about how you cannot love God and hate your brother. It’s annoyingly stark: God = love, not fear. If you say you love God you can’t get out of loving people who are too rich, too poor, too dirty, too dumb, too irritating for you. I can’t think of any other scriptural basis to ground my choices about potentially dangerous situations, except to ask myself if I am loving my children and making choices to love those around me while loving my children? At the end of this day’s choices, is my heart more open to God and His people, including myself and my kids, or is it more defended? I know that fear doesn’t create love and I know that I don’t know how danger will affect me today. Donald Rumsfeld was right. (darn!)
So, this weekend we rode on a motorcycle-pulled wooden platform to get to the beach, because all the Indians travel that way, and they all held onto each other as best as they could. We rode the train, to and from Digha because while train derailments happen more often in India than in the US, I do not know for certain that this train will derail. We ate in restaurants, eating what the locals eat because I do not know for certain that this dinner will make me sick. But I do know the water, even filtered is unsafe during monsoon season and the mud my kids walk in when they come with me to the slum needs to be washed off when we get home because it’s got a lot more than just dirt in it. I do know that if I take away all candy and ice cream and technology here they won’t be able to understand why doing things with God means they can’t have anything fun. And I do know that they need to be held and listened to in focused play time and not just when we are crossing the street to get to the AIDS Hospice together. This is what I know today, we will see what I know tomorrow.
-Krista-Dawn
July 18, 2011 - I Get Around
Getting around Kolkata will either make you a saint or a mean, crazy son of gun. I’m serious. I see a lot of saints and last night I was one crazy son of a gun. We left home at 1:00 pm to travel from the North to the South to help YWAM folks give a program at an AIDS Hospice. We got home at 10:00 pm. For this 2 hour program, it took 2 subway rides, 1 taxi, 2 cycle-rickshaws and 5 auto-rickshaws. Add 98% humidity, the temp at over 30 degrees, diesel fumes, and never a place to sit that wasn’t squashed next to another sweaty body for close to 6 hours. Also you have to add sounds of honking horns at all times, a political rally leader yelling at full blast, and the constant tsk sound that Indians make with the side of their mouth to show they are frustrated. Parked cars, construction equipment and people bulge into the already inadequate driving space because there are no rules for where you can and cannot park, and most sidewalks are filled with hawkers. When we arrived home, our host mother said, “you look tired” which I took as a compliment because I was so filled with rage at the inconceivable inefficiency and over-stimulation that I felt ready to rip someone’s head off. But I was too tired for violence and so we ate dinner quickly and headed upstairs to bed.
Days like this is exactly the reason why people come home from trips like this and say pithy statements like “It made me so thankful for what I have”. Because before coming here, we didn’t think to be thankful for the fact that commuting for a church service takes only 5 – 20 minutes rather than 4 hours. Nothing I do at home in Vancouver requires as much effort as getting anywhere, to do just about anything in Kolkata. And I even walk to get my groceries in Vancouver! Other mission teams from Western Countries get around this massive irritation by renting large Air Conditioned Buses that drive them door to door where they are going to serve. It’s easier, more comfortable and more efficient, depending on strikes, traffic and what the cows are doing that day. But after raging for awhile, here are my 3 thoughts on why my soul (and everyone on the team’s souls) are all better from the experience of local transportation.
1. All of our souls really are on a life-long path to being more of a saint or more of a mean maniac. Towards God, love and peace or away. The difficult circumstances of life, those that make us most uncomfortable, help rise to the surface the stuff of character, which produces perseverance, which produces hope which produces faith. That’s somewhere in the bible I know it.
2. Certain kinds of transport can only get you certain places, part way of a larger journey. We may want to get to Kalighat, but first we have to stop at 3 other places, each with their own unique feel. Just like we may want to get to intimacy with God, but we have stops of self-awareness, and skills for loving others and disillusionment that come along on the trip to intimacy with our Creator.
3. Each mode of transportation has it’s own unique feel and way. Just like personal prayer feels different than public worship, or journaling feels different than service. Each mode is good, but not complete in itself to get us to the end of the journey of experiencing the fullness of God.
While I think scripture commands us to be thankful for what God gives us, I also think we have so many other commands to consider when we realize our position of privilege. I can choose to go home in 2 weeks to traffic lights and walking to church, but my friends here cannot. And how do I steward that choice when I follow a God who didn’t stay up in heaven and be thankful that he never had to step in cow poop on a crowded street in Kolkata? It’s not clear what my choice should be, which I suppose is why I have a few more stops and rickshaws to take on my journey with God.
-Krista-Dawn
July 15, 2011 - Persist to Re-Describe
Greetings from Digha!
The past weekend has been an opportunity for our team to take some space from our sites and enjoy a few days on the coast. Much of the time here in Digha has been spent reflecting on how God is already at work in our lives, and we’ve also spent time examining the ways we feel God leading us to take risks for the Kingdom as we enter back into our ministry assignments in Kolkata this week.
This time away has been incredibly important in the life of our team. Living in a small apartment with 14 other people is definitely an exercise in self-awareness. In fact, it’s almost like looking in a mirror all the time. We’re fallible people and community is never easy. So we spent time together reflecting on how each of us can continue to grow into community and to extend grace when we fail each other. The prayer for our team – christened our “team covenant” – is the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi.
None of this is to say that we don’t get along, but that Christian community is always an exercise of faith, one that precludes our own agendas and ideals because it’s already a divine reality made possible through the cross. Will you pray Ephesians 2 over our team? Will you pray that we would continue to be built into the body of Christ, each of us with our unique strengths being built together with Jesus as our cornerstone?
As we were relaxing alongside the beach and in the pool at our hotel, many of us were struck by an article in a Kolkata newspaper. The article listed 10 reasons why Kolkata will never be like London, and in graphic detail lamented the terrible plight of a city descending into despair. In one instance the city was described as “a gigantic toilet bowl that hasn’t been cleaned in ages.” While many of us were glad that an Indian writer penned a description of the city that many of us can’t help but agree with – while being glad that we don’t have to say it ourselves – the hopelessness that persisted in the article was disheartening to all of us.
The article was a response to the many political reforms being pushed through by the new Chief Minister here in West Bengal, Mamata Banerjee. If ever there was a political leader to change Kolkata, Ms. Banerjee might be it. She even adopted a slum kid as her own a few weeks ago when he stopped her motorcade and told her of the many hardships in his life. It’s a story that’s almost too good to be true.
But we know that the real answer to the injustice here in Kolkata is Jesus. As people come to know Him in this city then lives will change. Kolkata might seem like a hopeless place, but we know that in Jesus Christ our hope never dies. It is our prayer – and we hope you will join us in this – that Christ’s Kingdom would come here in Kolkata.
-Thomas
July 13, 2011 - Unglamorous
It’s hard to believe that we’re over halfway done with our time here in Kolkata. The past two weeks have flown by, but we’ve felt every minute of it.
Let me start with the story of another American student here in the city named David. David is not a member of our team, but is a student here serving with one of our ministry partners, Youth With a Mission (YWAM). Nearly two weeks ago David was hit by a train during his morning commute into work with the Missionaries of Charity. Amazingly, David survived, but one of his legs was amputated, and he soon got an infection. We’re learning that life is fragile in this city. People die every day on the streets either from traffic related incidents, or just because the poverty and the hunger are beyond anything words can describe. After his condition stabilizes, David will return to the U.S. with his parents for further medical care. Will you join with us in praying for him and his family as he recovers, and will you also pray for YWAM as they continue their ministry even in the midst of difficult circumstances?
As far as our team is concerned, one of the great joys of working in this city is the incredible men and women we work with on a daily basis. Everyone on the team has the opportunity to work with people who are talented, have great resources at their disposal, and definitely have the ability to do almost anything with their lives. But they have chosen to live in Kolkata to serve people who have nothing.
Phoebe and I, particularly, work with a group of men and women at Kolkata City Mission who go into the slums every day to meet with the children and youth, to pray with families, and to meet physical needs. Apart from devotion to Jesus Christ their sacrifice would look insane. Our ministry partners take their skills and resources and devote themselves to people who live in what many have described as the world’s worst urban living conditions. It’s an incredible sacrifice, and no matter how much we all like to hear great stories about people pursuing justice, there’s nothing particularly glamorous about it. It’s hard work, and only the love of Jesus could compel people to devote their lives to it.
This past week I was asked how I’m seeing God here in Kolkata. While I see God at work in so many ways, I especially see Him in the people He has called to devote their lives to serve the poor. I’m constantly reminded of the passage in Philippians 2 where we are instructed to take on the humility of the incarnated Christ.
As you pray for us, I hope you will also be praying for the men and women that God has called here for long-term service. Will you pray for their families, and that they would continually have the peace and joy that only God provides.
-Thomas
July 5, 2011 - Praying for Bagmari
So much has happened in our lives the past week here in Kolkata. Let me fill you all in with some of the details.
Our first two days here were spent learning the city. I’m not sure it’s even possible to describe what the transportation here is like. Add tons of people and various modes of transportation, and subtract lane lines or any type of traffic signal. The result: craziness. All you need to do to be successful, it seems, is to honk your horn incessantly and to remember that big cars always win. I thought sky-diving was the riskiest thing I’d ever done, but now I’ve ridden in a Kolkata taxi.
Before we arrived here in Kolkata we were told that this is a city that assaults the senses. The sights and smells in this city are different than anything most of us have ever experienced. The poverty here is overwhelming, and in the heart of the city it’s impossible to walk down the street without having children beg you for food or money. It’s a heart-wrenching experience. More than that, the urban decay throughout the city is incredible. Even the newest buildings look old and worn down, and trash is piled up all over the streets. With 18 million people here, Kolkata is truly a city bursting at the seams.
Even in the midst of the hardships in this city, however, we are finding that the Lord is at work here, and that is a source of joy for us. My ministry partner, Phoebe, and I work with the Kolkata City Mission (KCM) and most days we work in a slum called Bagmari. Our first day at Bagmari all the children greeted us wearing their finest clothes, holding a “welcome” banner as they sang us a song. Phoebe and I also visited and prayed with several families, and even though the people we encountered have very little, their hospitality is always very generous.
Over the past four years KCM has worked in Bagmari, and through their work they have begun to see fruit. People are coming to know Jesus. Lives are being transformed, and the new Christians in the slum are influencing their families and friends. Sadly, however, this past Sunday the people of Bagmari found out that their slum is to be demolished, and, although their land is valuable, they will not be justly compensated for their homes.
Will you pray that the Lord would be at work in this? Will you pray that the people of Bagmari would be able to keep their homes? Will you pray that if this is not possible that their community could stay together and that their living situation would be improved as they move to a new location? Most of all, will you pray that KCM’s work with the people of Bagmari could continue and that lives would continued to be changed by Jesus.
All is well with our team. Another update will follow shortly.
-Thomas
July 5, 2011 - Open Up
“We all bear inexpressible sorrow for all the species that have become extinct and those on the verge of extinction, the plants and trees and fish dying of pollution, the living beings dislocated or killed by forest fires, hurricanes, volcanic eruptions and the like. We are so interconnected with all of life that we cannot help being touched by the pain of all that suffers. The more highly developed our consciousness becomes, the more terribly the knowledge and anguish of that suffering weighs on us, until we risk being crushed by the enormity of it all.” – Walter Wink
On one level, what the Global Urban Trek attempts to do is a cruel and terrible thing. We fly students half way around the world claiming that God is good, and then show them unimaginable suffering and agree with them when the students realize they can relieve very little of it on this trip. The first days and even weeks here are somewhat about survival – “How will I get through the day?” We are no longer in Kansas (or California or Canada) and the pain and injustice that is commonplace here is to most of us, much beyond anything we had experienced in our homeland. This goes for us as staff as well. As a shepherd for this team, I watch the women, learning how to navigate in a highly gendered place, where there are few other women on the street to ask for directions and if they find one, it is unlikely that she has been educated as much as her male counterpart to understand their English. I listen to their frustration and exhaustion, unable to relieve any of it. Our invitation to the students is just what Walter Wink was referring to: opening our consciousness up to more terrible knowledge and anguish of the suffering that weighs on us. And then the question comes, if we open our hearts, will we be crushed?
In an effort to keep the crusher at bay, our main temptation here is to close off our hearts. Openness and engagement gives permission for disturbing, disconcerting, and even inconceivable realities to make their way into our hearts and minds. Better to peek into the darkness and then shut the door, lock it and never go back. I went to a slum church tonight and every person was in the midst of suffering. When it came time in the service to share praises and prayer requests, all of the praises were for jobs or physical healing and all the prayer requests were for jobs and physical healing. Over dinner afterwards, Mahadeb was sharing that they can’t find one doctor that is willing to visit their slum, even for payment, to regularly attend to their friends. Not live there, not set up their practice, just visit once a month. I totally get why; the darkness is dark indeed, and scary things live in the darkness that are best left alone, lest they bite you as well.
The scripture that has come to mind repeatedly as we have landed in Kolkata is God’s tender wooing in the book of Hosea, chapter 6, verse 6: For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.
To receive mercy you have to open your heart. But open up for mercy and along comes pain and confusion. To extend mercy you have to open your heart, but along with mercy comes tears and anger. And though the word “mercy” or “hesed” describes the very faithful love at the heart of God’s character, in a place like this we wonder if that invisible mercy is stronger than the suffering we see.
Krista-Dawn
July 5, 2011 - What Brown Bear Sees
Brown bear, Brown bear, what do you see?
I count myself a part of the universal motherhood that longs for their children to be loving and generous. Right now, my attempts with my 6 year old look like this, repeated a couple of times a day:
Judah: “When I grow up, I’m going to be a superhero and make more money than anyone in the world, even more than God, because people will pay a lot of money to be saved from trouble. Then I’m going to buy all the nicest clothes in the world and build the biggest house and fill it to the roof with toys.”
I close my eyes to conceal the fact they are rolling violently to the back of my head and take a slow, deep breath to occupy the time it takes for my impulse to nag to pass and think of something helpful to come to mind.
Me: “Wouldn’t it be great if you could use all that money to find a cure for a disease so that other children wouldn’t have to be sick anymore?”
Judah: “Nope.”
The selfish nature of man doesn’t really get any clearer than this. So, in the midst of our daily playing and imagining and eating, we take any opportunity we can to go see the state of the world and allow it to work on our hearts. One morning, we went to a school in a slum, run by KCM. The 12 x 12 foot square building was freshly painted in a bright green to add cheeriness. There was no grassy field for the kids to play in, so they all stood in a line in the dirt outside the building as we tried to engage them in a game. Even though they ranged in age from 3-7, they weren’t used to playing “at school”, so after some time of awkward attempts to catch a parachute, we went back inside to color.
My eyes were focused on what wasn’t there: no chairs, no posters, no toys or anything for “stations” like at our kindergarten at home. I tried to make a few links for Judah, explaining that this is a kindergarten class, just like what he graduated from. In an effort to muster up some appreciation, I tried to point out the things in his life that were missing here, no library books, painting easels, etc. All with a tone that would match "so quit your complaining!" tacked on to the end. But this school came about because of a different kind of seeing. People in KCM look at their surroundings with greater attention to the things that are present, rather than the things that are missing. They also have families, and I can tell that they are teaching their kids and the people in the slums to look harder for the things that are: beautiful children, someone from the slum with teacher’s training, a roof, a mat, available time, the desire of parents to allow their kids to learn rather than work. With those things they created a school where there was no school. I’m convinced that is a better lesson in vision than what I was inclined to teach.
Krista-Dawn, Trek Director
June 27,2011 - Where's the Parents' Manual?
Where is the parents' manual??
Joel and I had 3 years of marriage under our belt the first time we came to Kolkata in 2001 and over the last 10 years and 7 summers in Kolkata we have added 2 kids to the packing list. Judah is 6, and this is his 5th time to Kolkata. Gabriella is 2, this is her 2nd visit here.
We just finished 4 days of Orientation in Bangkok. It was a flurry of nervous energy, cross-cultural training and team bonding. We do a number of experiential exercises to help students become more aware of who they are as they enter a new culture. One exercise was called the privilege circle. Standing in a circle facing outward, we ask students to take a step forward or backwards depending on how they answer a series of questions. The questions are about their life experience as a result of their family, their ethnicity and their gender. Those who could move forward as a result of their answer to the question moved out into territory that had candy scattered around. At the end of 46 questions, the white males and females were furthest out from the center, covering the most territory, and they described picking up all the candy as the “candy of shame”. In debriefing our experience, some students shared their guilt for all they were picking up because they could see the others that they were passing by. They also reflected a number of times at how their answers were as a result of their parent’s choices or experiences and not anything that they could change.
It resonated deeper in me how bizarre this trip is to so many families represented here. So many students shared of the sacrifices their parents had made for them, and how difficult it was for them to understand why they chose to spend their summer this way. As I listened, I thought about how I find it more and more complicated to know what is “the best way” to prepare your child! If you shelter them from suffering, do you create a false worldview? If you don’t give them access to as many opportunities as they could have, are you restricting what they could become?
During our commissioning service before we leave for our respective countries, we offered a parental blessing. Two parents, a man and woman, “stand in” to extend a prayer of blessing to students who for whatever reason were not able to hear a verbal blessing from their loved ones as they left. My heart breaks open again every year as students come forward sobbing, heavy bent from the grief of setting out on such a difficult and unknown venture without the assurance that they are loved. In my mind, I can imagine the frustration, confusion, anger that gets exchanged even though there is love in these families. I wonder if I will be able to hold my kids’ future loosely enough to be able to bless whatever ventures they feel they need to try. I have so much to learn from our Abba Father about love. I guess I will see what form these lessons come in this summer.
Krista-Dawn
June 22, 2011 - Only He Provides
Greetings from Kolkata!
This past week, twelve students, three staff, and our two directors and their children joined together in Bangkok, Thailand for orientation into cross-cultural missions before our arrival to Kolkata late last night. Although the members of our team come from many different backgrounds and a variety of places throughout the United States and Canada, we are all bound together by a common love for Jesus Christ and a desire to serve him internationally in Kolkata this summer.
The past several days have been a whirlwind, to say the least. In Bangkok our team began getting to know each other as we spent time in worship, scripture study, cross-cultural simulations, and lunches out enjoying the delicious street food. The Thai tea was incredible. We also began entering into some of the hard places that, for many of us, will shape much of our time this summer as we prayer-walked through some of the red-light districts in Bangkok. The brokenness was heart-wrenching, and we struggled to see the men and women we encountered through the eyes of Jesus, with the love and grace that only he provides.
I think more than anything, the past several days have been about setting our hearts on the Lord, and placing our trust in Him for where he will lead us this summer, knowing that he will be faithful to protect us and, even more importantly, to bring us closer to Him and His purposes in the world. Our second day we studied the scriptures that tell the story of David and Goliath. For forty days, one man defied the armies of Israel. The people were afraid and nobody stood up to fight the giant that stood in their way. But David, even though he was just a boy, taught each of us a powerful lesson. For the first time in the story, God was mentioned. David didn’t fight for himself or for Israel, but for the Living God. As he prepared to fight Goliath, he declared that he came in the name of the Lord of Hosts; David fought Goliath because he knew God would deliver him.
This story gave me a sense of peace about the calling on my life this summer, as I’m sure it did for many of my teammates. As we enter into our ministry placements in Kolkata, we aren’t going alone. We go in the name of the Lord of Hosts who has been at work in this city long before its first inhabitant stepped foot here. We are simply joining in the work that he has already begun.
We hope everyone reading this blog will be in prayer for us in the coming days and weeks. We start our ministry placements around the city on Friday. More updates will follow soon. God bless.
-Thomas
