veggies and mountain rain

"Those who sow in tears
will reap with songs of joy.
He who goes out weeping,
carrying seeds to sow,
will return with songs of Joy,
carrying sheaves with him."
psalm 126: 5,6

here in India, do we merely sow seeds, do we water? do we watch grow? sometimes it seems that we are here watching and waiting, having a few conversations here and there - praying that seeds will be sown that may take root and blossom years from now - and i'm ok with that, but I think God has other plans - he sees a harvest, and the tears we cry now, will turn to songs of joy. Im not sure what this will look like, but im excited to find out. its easy to get lost in the tears of sorrow while sowing seeds - but the power comes in the joy - in the harvest - and God is the one who causes it to happen. nothing that we can do. We just get to enjoy it, and sing.

I wish i could some how draw on here, or take a picture of a sketch in my notebook and share it here- as there is this image in my head as i wrote the following - the image is of several young girls, dangerously thin with large dark eyes, looking up at us as we left the resturant after lunch, begging for money holding their little tin cups, with a cloth draped over the top. One held a little baby. We were hurried along - told not to talk to them, not to look at them - "don't encourage them". Shoo - Nay - wave of a hand turn away - get in the rickshaw "lets go". I sadly looked back, deep into the girls eyes as i shook my head. I didn't realize then, but that encounter really affected me the next few days - and i didn't have time to process, so i failed to recognize what had taken root in my spirit. But when i had some moments of quite, it started to come back, and i could recognize the enemy's working.
here is what i wrote in the van as i was reflecting a few days later:

Big eyes stare up as i sit in the rickshaw ready to go - she askes for money - for shampoo for the baby. No, I shake my head as I smile sympathetically - I have nothing.
Then the enemy crept a thought into my heart that wighed me down - as if the he was speaking through the girl - "thats right, you have nothing to give - no way to help me, or others like me here on the streets. What can you do? We are too many. Thats right, just smile and drive away after your nice lunch."
But those are lies - and discouragement that i will not remain weighed down by! I may not have help for her right now - but I am trusting in God's plan. I will continue to follow - and perhaps be wosing seeds in tears - but I hold onto the promise that we will return with songs of JOY carrying sheaths in our hands.
That little girl is loved by the creator of the universe and I think i can trust Him to care for her. I will pray - even that the ministries in Kolhapur will find her.

so now i write...I know God has a plan - His people are working throughout the world, throughout Kolhapur, throughout India - his spirit is breaking down strongholds no one thought would change - I have been invited, and you have been invited, to join him in this work - and so through that we also are a part of helping that little girl. Never listen to the voices that say there is nothing you can do! For in Christ we have the victory. In His strength we can shine brightly and overcome the seeming endless darkeness.

So, as we were driving to visit some micro enterprise projects and a church founded by Mr Wilder (related to Laura Engles Wilder - little house on the prarie) we stopped at little roadside stands and got fresh fruit and some roasted corn on the cob with lime, salt and chilly powder :) and fresh carrots from a women's garden - set up like little Teepees on a blanket in her yard. The warm sun and fresh earth soaked into us, Nika and I rejoiced to have fresh food again! As we drove through the mountains yesterday rain started coming down- fresh cool rain - some people pulled over to get out and dance around as we drove past. :) the sun was tearing through the clowds and turning the hills to gold against the dark sky. The Lord is preparing a harvest - may we be ready as laborers in the fields!

jingling bangles

yes, im alive! sorry for the long delay in posts - but in Kolhapur we really didn't have internet access that was secure, and we felt it was better to stay on the safe side - not wanting to jeopardize anyone's safety.
so - im not sure i can capture everything that happened in the last 10 days, but i can give some glimpses.
as i sit here in the hotel room in Pune once again, my green sparkling bangles jingle as i type. They were given to me as a gift at the girl's hostel nika, consuela and i stayed in for two nights - in Kadooli - a small village outside Kolhapur. The girls live there and some are sponsored, some are not. Some are from poor families, some have no family, some have mothers in the redlight district, and they are all lovely, bright eyed balls of energy who love to dance and tell stories and sing songs and call me Sarah Diddi (sister sarah) - pulling at my hand to come and see. Clapping games, eating rice, the electricity goes out in the midst of a song and they laugh in the complete darkness and continue singing. candles are brought and life continues - this is a common occurance. the gass goes out, so breakfast is cooked on an open fire. the uniforms are white colored shirts sewn to blue jumpers. red bows tied to their jet black beautiful braided hair. Why do they wish for lighter skin and eyes? why do they see the characters on TV as something to aspire to? What is beauty? what are their true hopes and dreams?
The first time we visited the hostel the whole team went - and we just went in and sat with them, and they sang for us, and we taught them a song... and we moved on. AS we were in the van driving back to Kolhapur i wrote this poem:

Children watching

stern, wonder

Sitting quiet in a row

Dark hair

big eyes

Who are these strangers here?

"nameste" smile, nod, watch.

" please sit"

Down in a row - on chairs

Who do they see looking at us?

Who do we see

Looking at them?

Children watching

stern, wonder

Dreams and fears

Lessons learned

Standing up to be a doctor, police

or an engineer

Future leaders

of this state- our world.

Sing a song

dance and clap

Is there joy here?

hope- love- peace?

Perhaps once forgotten

abandoned, neglected

hurts and fears

hope seems lost.

But a smile cracks

dark eyes shine bright

Dreams are alive

do you hear them?

"nameste" smile, nod, watch.

We drove for hours nearly every day visiting small villages all over the surrounding hills - passing fileds of sugar cane where the "migrant workers" set up teepees of gras and tarps while they were working all day in the fields for around $2.50. Sugar factories billowed smoke in the distance, young children ran about here and there - apparently the plantation owner is supposed to provide some schooling for the kids, but i wonder how often that happens? Passing the brick cilns reminded me of the stories of debt bondage where whole families were trapped for generatons "paying off" a debt that just keeps increasing. I could tell these people lived there among the bricks - their houses blended into the red brick landscape, dark doors into tiny little dwellings where two adults would hardly fit lying down. Again, children climed amongst the bricks, carying loads twice their size. And we drive by.

We enter the villages and see the animals wandering here and there - we are ushered into the houses and churches and offered flowers and tea. honored in a way that tested my ability to go with the flow sometimes... it is a form of humility, as nika was reflecting, to receive gifts and honor - as its a part of culture, and their joy of seeing Sheba and Ramesh and honoring them for the work they have done... we just get to join in and watch.

poverty lives at the doorstep of wealth - litterally. India is a land of contrasts and comparisons. Who is lighter, who is richer, who is of what family, who is of what education??? What religion, what caste, what background?! This defines a person, a future, a life. A girl with nothing, in this context can very easily be seen as nothing. She ceases to exist - and is merely a thing - that takes up food. This is harsh, but it is the truth is some contexts. When there is starvation, when survival is the goal to life, what would you do?

So often in scripture we are called to give thanks. Some of the days i've been weighed down by the overwhelming reality of the brokenness - often more in the little things. And I am reminded to give thanks - especially in the little things. Like green bangles, and rain as we crossed the mountains, and dancing with 100 brightly clothed giggling girls, and singing to Jesus in a remote village surrounded by sugar cane, and chai tea, and masala dosas and friends and joy and hope, and even sleep.

with that i will wrap this post up - as it is very late, and breakfast is early - and im tired. I will try to write more tomorrow, as i have much more to share!

blessings!

Cage

(this is a quote from a photo journal book of Kamathipura - one of the most nutorious redlight districts of Mumbai, and the world. we drove through part of it 2 days ago)

"A cage is the most emotive symbol of the sex trade.
Walk through Kamathipura and you see faces staring at you from barred windows. Many are childrens' faces, daubed with paint like ludicrous clowns, but there is no merriment in their eyes, only horror and a crushing resignation.
Look beyond the faces and you see their prison cells: narrow spaces divided from similar spaces by flimsy walls or curtains; the only articles of furniture are the squalid beds.
Body and bed constitute oe commodity in this slave market.
Incongruously, teddy bears and dolls stare up at you from greasy, sweat stained pillows like memories of innocence.
Childhood has been snatched from these girls. Their faces are young by their eyes are dead. They are the innocent punished for the crimes of the guilty: girls abducted from chiuldhood to serve as sex slaves in the Kamathipura hell.

Through the barred window, you are looking at one of the most atrocious crimes of the century. Don't look away.
Indifference is not an option.
The girl with the painted face could be your doughter. She is related to youby a common humanity.
Your outrage and action could change her life.
You have the power to open her cage.

stop sex slavery

Scrawl this like graffiti on every cage in Kamathipura. Spray it on the face of the nation."

a rhythmic chaos!

Im here - and am loving it. the sights and sounds- the beauty of each life - the color is stunning, and the amount of traffic (of cars) is crazy and quite an adventure to speed through in a motor rick-shaw. today we were driving with a very crazy driver and nearly crashed several times. to take a shortcut and save a few seconds we went right into on coming traffic swerving here and there... the best part is, it is nearly normal and the drivers merely swerved around us and with a few honks. some footage has been taken if you don't believe. :)
we also saw some camels walking along the roadside today.
we spent two days in Mumbai - a city of around 19 million people! talking to people, learning about various anti-trafficking (of humans) movements in the city and around the country. We walked through some buildings where prostitution happens, but where the women actually live, and often are called out to other brothels or dance clubs. we walked through saturday afternoon, and kids were running through the dirty narrow hallways, as the girls and women were preparing food for dinner. we were there with a group of women from a church down the street, and were inviting people to church. It was incredibly sad, and yet there were beautiful smiles, and i could just see their eyes shining with a hope not yet lost. we sang happy birthday to one of the women and prayed for her and her son. and we prayed over another little one who had tear stained mascara on her little 3 year old face. heart breaking. maddening. as I walked by and turned a corner, ducking under laundry a guy asked "how much??" and i just kept walking. but these women? this is their "profession" day and night they cannot just walk away.
Nika and I are praying and asking God for His vision for redemption- and he has been giving us pieces of that, and what's exciting is he is giving the vision to those who are working in India as well! We spent a few hours talking with Visu - and his work among the poor, and those who are in slavery. and he understands the need to tackle the deeper systems- and to find solutions out of the box. It was exciting for all of us to see how God is spreading his plan across the world- and using his people to step up to action!
many more stories to tell, and things to share, but it is very late and my roommates are probably wishing i would stop typing on this loud key board!
I may be able to write more tomorrow! Thank you SO much for your prayers and support! I think of you friends and family often! :)
Danyawab - means thank you in Hindi.

blessings!
sarah

off to India!

Well this is it - bags are packed - last minutes things are coming together - calls and visits to say goodbye... and in a few hours we'll be heading to the airport after a prayer send off at the Emmanuel Gospel Center.

Im excited! and will be updating this blog when i can - hopefully sharing glimpses of the adventure of india.

thank you for your prayers and support!

remain in the Joy of His grace!

I will leave you with this quote a friend shared with me as i was preparing to go:

“At times we need to know that the Lord is a God of justice. When slumbering giants of injustice emerge in the earth, we need to know that there is a God of power who can cut them down like the grass and leave them withering like the green herb. When our most tireless efforts fail to stop the surging sweep of oppression, we need to know that in this universe is a God whose matchless strength is a fit contrast to the sordid weakness of man. But there are also times when we need to know that God possesses love and mercy. When we are staggered by the chilly winds of adversity and battered by the raging storms of disappointment and when through our folly and sin we stray into some destructive far country and are frustrated because of a strange feeling of homesickness, we need to know there is Someone who loves us, cares for us, understands us, and will give us another chance. When days grow dark and nights grow dreary, we can be thankful that our God combines in His nature a creative synthesis of love and justice which will lead us through life’s dark valley’s and into sunlit pathways of hope and fulfillment.” - MLK Jr.

cycles

She walks on the bus, loudly venting into her cell phone - striding purposefully to the back. As she brushes past me i can't help but notice her conversation - and along with everyone else on the bus, can't help overhearing every word. It seems she was talking about her kids...

"Its not like anyone really payed attention to them growing up. No one was calling to check on them. They didn't really have that, you know?" (she sounded almost annoyed)

"...But I had to yell at C the other day - all he wanted from his daddy was a present. M had to promise to get him something for him to talk. He would hardly even smile. He hardly talks. Its not like him at all. And S was my best student, but now - I don't know what's come over her - she's not doing well at all..."

She seemed angry, frustrated, annoyed.

Will yelling at your kids actually help anything? It sounds like maybe she worked and was away from home a lot of evenings/ nights- so they had to fend for themselves. Perhaps there are multiple fathers - at least one of them is in their life. But the kids have grown up with this pattern- and from the conversation are probably used to the tone of communication being high strung and always a hint of annoyance. Do they ever feel like they've succeeded? that someone believes in them? That they are loved?

As I got up and walked away from the bus I mumbled under my breath - Its a cycle ma'am. They need to know they are loved and cared for - and that you believe in them. I thought through these questions I wanted to ask her as I walked over the snow towards home - Have you told your daughter that she was your best student? Did you ever shower her with praise? Did you tell your son how much you love him? Reacting to their learned behaviors with anger will further alienate - and that is how kids end up spiraling into "at risk" situations - looking for attention, for belonging, for love in all the wrong places when they don't get it from home and family. Picking up weapons for power, drugs for forgetting, getting in trouble for people to notice them. Or, listening to the much older guy who says "you're pretty - come along with me and i'll show you a good time" - and freedom is stolen. Where dignity and self esteem is lacking, other things try to fill that void - and those looking to take advantage of the weak shower down promises - ultimately crushing away life.

I hope that mother never has to face the pain of seeing her child hurt and exploited, or turn to hurt others - i hope the cycle will be broken some how.

this is just one story of so many...