On earth as it is in Heaven

On earth as it is in Heaven

Hadassah

Hadassah

You can find our most recent blog here. 

 

Precious new friend who I am calling “Hadassah” (For those of you who read the series, you know;) )

I have more to share since this post but wanted to get this out there first.

Love to you all 

An update from the Raj Mahal;)

An update from the Raj Mahal;)

Hello to all who may read this site still. I have not figured out how to merge this old/new family blog with the blog Baby Adams Journey. But here is a recent posting on our family;)

choose to rejoice…

“The earth under your feet, the rain over your face upturned, the stars spinning all around you in the brazen glory: this is for you, you, you. These are for you -gifts- these are for you -grace- these are for you –God, so count the ways He loves, a thousand, more, never stop, that when you wake in the morning you can’t help turn humbly to the east, unfold your hands to the heavens, and though you tremble, and though you wonder, though the world is ugly, it is beautiful, and you can slow and you can trust and you can receive each moment as grace.” ~Ann Voskamp

Beautiful quote that is. From one of my favorite present day authors, Ann Voskamp.

Today it is hot and dusty. Our little concrete green house with its periwinkle inside is baking in the indian sun. But I am rejoicing for the provision of a water cooler that has done wonders.

Today, my eldest is recovering from a nasty virus. He slept the whole night on my dear husband’s lap. He vomited, he had some nasty release from the rear;), and he’s been a little hot baby. But I am rejoicing that we found an incredible pediatrician this afternoon who identified each of Adam’s needs and we have created a lovely rice cereal with a few additions to it that he is tolerating so well in his little tired and burnt out belly. I am rejoicing that the fever is gone and Adam is happily playing again.

videos of Adam and his playfulness;)

Today, I am tired. But I rejoice in God’s provision thru a friend like Stephanie. Look at all these beautiful cloth diapers! It makes life so much easier and colorful and inexpensive these days;)

thankful to have them in india where pampers are so expensive;) thanks TT;)

Today, it is hot. But I rejoice that evening is coming and with that an evening walk in the COOL air with my boys;)

Today, I dont know how it all happened…all that needed to be done. But I am thankful this dear friend from the U.S. is here for a month. Her friendship and presence and help with Adam has been such a gift!

Today, I rejoice at the little life growing in me that has started kicking quite a lot these days. And I rejoice that our Abba Father saw it fit to create a brother for Adam so close in age;) I cant wait to witness that brotherhood. Like Moses and Aaron…that’s what people keep telling me their brotherhood will be. And I like that a lot.

22 weeks of a life inside!

Today, I remember the incredible need of the kids I love so dearly at Asha Mission in India…my home for 8 months and the children who I long for more deeply than I can express here…I remember cramming into those 2 bedrooms 32 children…and that intense Delhi summer heat and the patience those kiddos showed during those months. And today I rejoice that $100,000 has been raised to buy land for them just in time! I rejoice that He Who begins a good work is FAITHFUL to bring it to completion. And that “unless the Lord builds the house its builders labor in vain”

So that is how I count the ways that He is good and that He is at work!

journey on…

“You were with that sad baby weren’t you?”
“I am sorry? What?”
“In the bagel shop, you were with the sad baby?”
“Oh, yes I was in the bagel shop but no I was with a happy baby. His name is Adam and he is my son…”

That conversation occurred about 3 weeks ago in Jacksonville, Florida. Raja, my dad, a friend, Adam, and I had gotten bagels before church and were eating in the bagel shop. While we were sitting there, a barista from the local coffee shop had come in and seen us. So when I walked over to get coffee a little later, she asked me about Adam and referred to him as “sad baby”.

My heart dropped.
For I know that Adam is not sad.
But I know what she saw.
She saw a mouth that when smiling, forms more of a frown.
She saw an opening where the nose should, and will (one day) be.
She saw silence, for the tracheostomy (which will be in place for maybe 2 years) suppresses my son’s voicebox so he cannot cry or giggle.

But I know when he smiles because 2 precious dimples form, even if the curve is downwards.
I know that the opening for the nose is really a blessing, for it indicates that part of his nose is in place and it allows air to pass thru.
I know that he has laughed and cried and cooed and that he will one day again.
And I know how he communicates to us during this temporary time of silence.
I know from where he came from and how beautiful his precious life is now.
I know that he had no name, and now has a name.
I know that he didn’t have a mother or father, and now has mother, father, baby brother!, Mimi and Pops, aunties and uncles, and infinitely more who love him and cherish his life.
I know that his lifetime was in question for a few weeks, but now he has a beautiful life ahead of him.
I know that he once had no way to close his eyes and now he can rest fully with them closed.
I know that the gates of hell did not hold back infinite provision, mercy, and miracles from heaven as over $200,000 was given, in faith, by thousands the world over, in order for Adam to have surgeries necessary for him.
I know that Adam’s life has been a picture of the Gospel to me, Raja, and many others, unlike which we have ever comprehended.
And that is eternal and that is beautiful and that is not sad.
But, how do I share that in such a short time?
How do I communicate that to a plighted barista in the morning rush of coffee seekers?
I didn’t.
I tried.
But I didn’t communicate it fully.
And that hurts.

It hurts to see the glances that we receive the world over.
It hurts to hear the comments many make.
It hurts to have people crowd and stare at my son but not speak to him.
Though I know it is hard for people and confusing to see a baby formed differently with scars, healing, on a young child’s face, it is still hard at times.
Sometimes there reactions make me wonder, “is this journey too painful for me?”

In that place.
Calvary Love speaks.
Calvary Love meets.

And I am running to my Saviour daily to figure out how to process it and how to speak to it and how to respond.
Though I have always known pain, for we live in a pain stained world, this new season with my first born son has changed my perception of pain and has intensified it in my life.
I know motherhood does that, with or without a child with “special needs”.
I know I am not the only mother or woman who feels pain…but I can say that this season has definitely increased my awareness of it.
On September 18th, a baby was born who defied what we, mankind, expect babies to depict.
On September 21st, that baby came to our home to live.
On Nov 2nd, that baby became our son, Adam.
And pain has seared our hearts in this season.

It is easy to ignore pain.

Avoid it perhaps.

But it is impossible to live without it.

Despite what actions we may take.
For this world, tarnished that it is, is not pain free.

But that is not all.
That is not my only understanding of the pain that we are walking thru.
For look at our Savior.
My Savior.
And, I pray, yours too.
He “was a man of grief, acquainted with sorrows”

And what does He ask of us?
“Take up your cross and follow”
Follow? In a life of grief and sorrow?
Well, yes.

Yes, “His mercies are new every morning”
And yes, He says “Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest…rest for your SOULS”
That doesn’t mean a life of ease and pain free living on earth.
Yes, all is grace.
Yes, His grace is sufficient and His power is perfect in our weakness.
But that does not remove the suffering and pain we may experience on our way.
So, why am I surprised and why do I fret so when the pain is severe?
He told us it would happen.
He even said that if they hated Him, they will hate us also.
Man, tough stuff.

But.
BUT!
“we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weakness, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are- yet was without sin.”
What?
That Savior who was aquainted with sorrows doesn’t leave us to walk thru these painful experiences alone and without His own depth of understanding of them!
He has gone thru each of them.

So what?
“Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need”
So, in these times of pain, we are not to fight alone?
Correct.
We are to approach the throne of grace where mercy and grace abundant flow to our aid.

How do we know that He has been tempted and pained in every way?
How do we know that He is sufficient to help US in OUR time of need?

Remember.
Bind them on our fingers and write them over our doorposts.
Remember and bind and write what?
His deeds of faithfulness in generations past.
That is how we know that His Word and Promise is true.

The Israelites.
Parched they were.
Angry they were.
Full of doubt they were.
Pain, fear, disbelief.
They have plagued mankind always.
Wanting to go back and afraid they would never eat or drink again.
But, were they left in the place of pain and fear alone?
No.
What was Moses instructed to do?
“Strike the rock”
And what happened?
Water poured forth for His people to drink in.
And what does Paul tell us later?
They… “drank from the spiritual rock that accompanied them, and that rock was Chrst”
It was HIM!
The man who was acquainted with sorrows!
The Lamb who was slain before the foundations of the world!
He allowed HIMSELF to be struck so that the stubborn doubters could drink deeply and know!
Know what?
That He is God.
And that He is with them.
And that they can find grace and mercy in HIM, to help them in times of need.

Or, what about Elijah?
When he fled to Horeb?
What did he say on arrival, after running for his life, afraid of jezebel and her minions?
He went into the desert, fell under a tree, and prayed for his death.
Why?
The pain and fear were too great.
He did not think he could bear it any more.
He cried “ I have had enough…take my life; I am no better than my ancestors…”
But what happened?
Who met him with grace and mercy to help in time of need?
God did.
“all at once an angel touched him and said ‘get up and eat’. He looked around, and there by hi shead was a cake of bread baked over hot coals and a jar of water…”
So, Elijah ate and then laid to rest.
Then what happened?
A second time, an angel came!
“Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you”
<How often do we feel that way? That the journey is too much for us? Oh so often. Does that mean we must give up? Throw in the towel? Give whatever it is that is too difficult back to the Lord? No! Why? Because He comes again!>
“So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God”
What assurance!
What grace!
What mercy!
We are never left alone.
For He provides us with HIMSELF
The bread of Life
And the water from streams of LIVING WATER
And that bread…
That water…
Give us the strength we need to march on.

To where?
All the way to the mountain of God.
All the way to the end of this pilgrim journey.
No matter what pain accompanies us.

Praise Him for that dear ones.

Still, it is hard.
I know.
For me, too, it is still hard.

It is not just us.
Generations before also.
Those Israelites in the desert.
Even the 12 men closest to J*s*s on earth.
Look at Peter.
When told His S*v**r must suffer, did he accept it willingly, though he has been warned multiple times before pain and suffering must come upon Him?
No, he fought it.
Even offered himself to die first <he didn’t know actually he would deny Him 3 times…not at all go in His place>
Then, when the arrest was happening, what did Peter do in his fear and anger?
Cut off the ear of a guard!
Took it into his own hands.
Did he rest and trust in grace and mercy in time of need?
No, he anxiously attempted his own methods of pain free living.
Did it work?
No, alas, it did not.

He was forgetting Who his S*v**r was.
The One who came “not to be served but to serve…and to give His life for the ransom of many”
Who did He come to serve?
The same people He knew would hate Him, reject Him, murder Him.
Yet, He came, aware of that pain.
He came to bear the pain and suffering and separation from His Father that we deserve so that we, who believe, could go free.
“He became sin who knew no sin, so that we could become the righteousness of God”
Wow.
He became what He knew not so that we could be rewarded?
Seems ridiculous.
Scandalous really.
And scandalous it is.
Scandalous grace and scandalous love.
Scandalous mercy to help us in times of need and in times of pain on this pilgrim journey.
May I remember that when the questions, looks, and comments come.
May I drink deeply of water living and Bread of Life.
Not just today.
But everyday.
Not just in solitude each morning.
May I not just scribble it in my journal and fail in walking it out.
But may I walk it out daily in the presence of those around me.
Around my husband.
Around believers and unbelievers.
And around my precious sons.
When my oldest comes home, hurt from the words and looks and glares of outsiders and friends.
When he is confused as to why his body is afflicted so.
When his younger brother doesn’t understand.
Through tears and laughter, may I know that life is not devoid of pain.
May I remember that my Savior became what He knew not…sin…and lived a life and death of pain…and calls me to take up my Cross.
May I drink deeply from His side.
And journey on.

May I not forget that “pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world” (cs lewis)

Beautiful poem from Amy Carmichael’s “Rose from Briers” (published 1933)

Too Great for Thee
An angel touched me and he said to me,
The journey, pilgrim, is too great for thee,
But rise and eat and drink,
Thy food is here,
Thy Bread of Life,
Thy Cruse of water clear,
Drawn from the brook, that doth as yesterday
Flow by the way

And thou shalt go in strength of that pure food
Made thine by virtue of the sacred Rood,
Unto the mount of God,
Where thy Lord’s face
Shall shine on thee,
On thee in thy low place,
Down at His feet, who was thy Strength and Stay
Through all the way.

O Cake of Bread baken on coals of fire,
Sharp fires of pain,
O water turned to wine,
Thy word is true, this food is daily mne;
Then never can the journey be
Too great for me

i remember

As I look back on these past 3 months.

It is quite a blur.

3 weeks-1 month became 6 months.

Unexpected financial needs were provided miraculously in ways only God could author.

A few surgeries became 6 within 6 weeks.

We thought Adam may lose his eyesight despite those surgeries.

Even though Adam had gone 10, or was it 12, weeks without eyelids and still had vision.

Even though all odds were against him and his life and his sight.

Even though we made it in time, the money was raised in time, and the surgeries were done.

There was that risk.

For his eyes were to be sutured shut for days.

Babies can lose sight quickly. That is what we were told.

And I was scared.

I was terrified.

I was even a bit angry.

I felt as though we had worked so hard to moisten his eyes hourly and prayed so hard and hoped so deeply.

And now, in America?

With the best surgeons around?

With eyelids on?

Still, he could lose his sight?

Surely, not.

For, in America, under great surgeon’s care, everything would be perfect.

 

Oh my. How wrong.

No matter where we are.

No matter where Adam is.

Life is given and taken away.

By One.

The One who authored life.

Sight is given by One.

Whose eyes even saw our son’s unformed body in that little woman’s womb.

I had taken my eyes off of that One.

I had placed them on doctors, hospitals, America, medicine.

 

Instead of spending hours before Him.

I spent hours in anxious waiting.

I spent hours crying frustrated and confused tears.

I cried out to Him that it was not fair and that Adam deserved eyes to see.

 

Oh how silly of me.

 

I remember one night breaking about this to my husband.

He also had been thru his fair struggles.

Yet his wisdom and restful spirit were a bit advanced from mine.

I remember him telling me that “even if Adam goes blind, this is so much bigger than Adam having eyes to see”

 

That angered me.

Deep, deep within.

I was not angry with my husband, though I acted it.

I was more angry with the Almighty, the Author of my son’s life and the Redeemer of my life.

 

I was angry at the Truth of that.

That “He gives, He takes away, His name be ever praised”

 

I remembered the parable He told, when He walked this fragile earth.

Of the boy born blind.

It was not because of his sin.

It was not because of his parent’s sin.

It was because of the Glory HE would receive.

 

And really, what do I ultimately desire?

That that is temporary?

Or that that is eternal?

For this body, this flesh, it is fading.

Word says it is like the grass of the field.

So why would I long more for that in my son, than that that is eternal?

Why would I long for maybe 70 years of sight on earth compared to eternal glory for many?

It is hard yes.

Maybe it sounds too radical.

But Solomon saw all that man labored after and it was meaningless.

Sight is not the end all be all.

To me, a new ferocious mama bear in the world, it was.

But HE reminded me gently, it is not.

HE IS.

 

Adam’s life has been witnessed by so many.

Definitely complications were many.

Outcomes could have been poor.

Eyesight topped off the list of those possibilities.

 

It took days, probably weeks.

To know His peace in the midst of my emotions and anger.

His still small voice had to be heard thru a heart with sound proof walls that had been erected.

 

But He did speak.

And I did here.

 

“Be still”

“Know”

 

He alone brought Adam from the womb.

That in itself was a miracle.

He alone brought him into our arms.

He alone ordained the miraculous treatment and provision he is undergoing.

He alone is to be praised.

 

He will succeed.

And His success is not dependent on my definition of success.

No, for His ways are far beyond my ways. And His thoughts are far beyond my thoughts.

 

So I am daily longing for faith to believe whatever he places before me regarding my son’s life.

He does have eyesight.

That is a miracle!

Alas! I pray I never forget to praise Him for that.

He continues to provide all of our needs.

May I not forget to cry that out.

For if I do forget, the rocks and stones will surely testify.

 

Friends, His ways are beyond our ways.

As are His thoughts.

I know what it is to rage within and disagree with status quo and future fears.

Rest. Be still. He is Abba. He knows.

He gives.

He does take too.

And thru it all, He will be praised.

May our hearts be softened and steadied to praise Him thru it all.

“trust an unknown future to a known God”

-corrie ten boom

questions I had

10 weeks.

How quickly they have come and gone.

Stretch marks are not here to mark his arrival.

There were not 9 months to prepare for his coming.

10 weeks ago, our first born arrived.

And what a joy, what an incredible joy, he is!

I have not been able to write on here as much as I wanted.

For my heart and mind are full and my Spirit, His Spirit, is rejoicing within me!

You know how Mary stored it all inside of her heart?

I pray I can store it all there too. And that I can recall it all over the years.

For I could have never predicted this journey Raj and I have been on.

I have always longed to adopt. The children of India have really been on my heart since…well, I was 16 and read the words of Amy Carmichael.

As I have gotten to know children and the lack of families surrounding millions of them, I have longed to be used by our Abba Father to care for them.

But after marriage, Raj and I knew our focus needed to be Him and one another.

So thoughts of adoptions were merely whispered prayers and hopes for the future.

And I saw so much purpose in teaching nursing students and serving in many different ways than adoption.

So when Adam was born that humid October night.

When Adam was first seen that humid October night.

When Adam first cried that humid October night.

When Adam was left alone that humid October night.

God was at work that humid October night.

God was preparing us that humid October night.

God who “places the lonely in families”

Oh how He loves us!

Oh how He loves Adam!

Our home of 2 soon became 3 and we can look back and only fall on our knees in gratitude.

We look back and raise our Ebeneezer in worship and gratefulness.

Of His faithfulness.

He is good.

His mercy endureth forever.

He is Abba and He is Emmanuel.

He never forsakes.

I remember a question that hit me as we were in the process of adopting.

And we were told that Adam would not live.

No longer than a few weeks.

I remember asking “Can I raise a dying child?”

“Can I love him as my own and treasure each moment knowing he is dying?”

And I hear in my heart,

“You, too, are dying”.

“Raja, your beloved, he is dying.”

Yes, our Spirit’s will live. But this body, it is fading.

“Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day”

After all, didn’t Solomon tell us

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven, a time to be born and a time to die”

And “All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the Word of the Lord stands forever”

Yes, we are eternal beings. That I know. And in that I rejoice. We will one day see all things made new!

The idea that we are all dying is not some fatalistic idea.

Each year that passes, I see changes in my own body. We age and no man knows if he is guaranteed tomorrow.

Did I choose to not marry Raja because one day he may die before me?

No.

Do I love him or any of my family and friends less because of unavoidable death?

No.

I love them deeply in this moment.

Then why should I question loving, adopting, and caring for this precious boy because medicine says let him die?

There is no answer.

And one day, when other children enter our family, I should not look at them in a different way.

I love each of them, my husband, and all my loved ones with love from Heaven. Love one day at a time.

We do not know what tomorrow holds. I know this moment. I know Jesus. I know what love is. I know His word.

And, after all, “the word of the Lord endures forever”.

Flesh fades like grass, but the Word endures.

The Word will give me the strength I need to love Adam.

No matter what tomorrow holds.

 

Then how merciful of Jesus to show me a physical, tangible Hope, just after He walks me thru the struggle of considering the brevity Adam’s life may be.

I hear from a team of specialists that there is hope. Surgeries can be done. And Adam can have have a beautiful life ahead of him.

And as time passes, I see him grow and thrive and change.

I hear him cooing.

I watch his deep eyes watching me.

I feel his hand press against me.

I see him feel loved.

 

What if?

What if fear HAD conquered?

What if I said “no”.

What if He did not move in my heart to say “yes”?

What if I said that I could not love this little life because of what others say?

I would not have tasted of such love.

Raja and I would not have labored together on behalf of this precious life.

Raja and I and many others would not have been driven to our knees in pleading for so many doors to open along the way.

My praise filled prayer tonight:

“Thank you Abba. thank You for filling me with faith to walk this out.”

Amen.

So, in the questions you have.

Press into the one thing Eternal, the Word.

Flesh fades. He remains.

unwashed hair

I was walking thru the hospital with my husband.

And other nurses and doctors.

I always hope my heart does not become hardened to their suffering.

The suffering of the sick.

Being a nurse, it is a temptation.

And living in India, it is possible.

But He is gracious.

He fills me with His Spirit fresh each morning.

I had passed many who were quite sick.

Malaria, even Cerebral Malaria, TB, Pneumonia, Skin infections, Malnourished.

But not many affected me like she did.

That one woman.

Crumbled at the end of the bed at the end of the row of the female ward.

Every piece of her was a bony prominence, at risk for skin breakdown.

Her hair so disheveled.

Eyes sunken and far far away in a place mine have not ventured.

She smelled and her family just sat and watched.

Barely any teeth.

When we spoke to her, indecipherable words came back off her lips.

As if it had been ages since she was spoken to.

‘Oh,  Father’, I uttered a silent prayer.

He made this woman too.

My mind raged in anger at the woman smacking gum next to her.

As if she didnt know her relative was slowly dying, starving, and neglected.

Then, He reminded me, ‘she doesnt know Me’.

‘How could you expect her to know Love without Me?’

And then He filled me with Love for her too.

I asked when she last ate.

Relatives do not know.

My nursing student was caring for her this first night in the hospital.

We decided something should be done.

Oats should be made.

Nice, warm, nutritous oats.

With smashed bananas.

Cinnamon.

A dash of salt and sugar.

And delighted she would be.

So in the night we came and fed her.

Only 10 bites could her little body tolerate.

Ate more throughout the night.

We had to slowly lift her and prop her against the wall to feed.

Hold her up because she couldnt.

She doesn’t remember her age.

39? But she looks 89.

But He knows.

Even the hairs on her head are counted.

So I rested in that.

As I attempted a count of hairs, I failed.

But I did notice they (the hairs) were incredibly dirty.

Wash was needed.

If He washed my feet and my soul with His blood…

Shouldn’t I wash this woman’s hair?

Shouldn’t I use fragrant coconut shampoo I had waiting in our home?

And massage her little scalp?

He told me “go and do likewise”.

Best friend, Liz, reminded me of that and toasted me and husband.

With those words, “go and do likewise”

On our wedding day.

So wash I will do.

A treasured nursing student of mine commited to come with me.

6 am.

We walked down the hill to the hospital.

Carried her outside.

Many women watching.

‘Oh, no. What will they think? Will they get angry and say I should wash theirs?”

Well, one did.

But her son calmed her and explained that this other woman had no one else.

That he was there for her.

So she quieted.

And all else just watched and commented on the fragile woman’s beauty.

Washed, combed, ponied up.

Oh it was lovely.

I felt as though my hair, body, feet, inners were washed as her hair was washed.

Is that not what he does every day?

Washes His bride with the Water of the Word.

It is.

I pray I can see through my little eyes those with unwashed hair.

I hope I can sacrifice my time and my comfort and my sensory stimuli.

For love.

For redemption.

For washing.

For Him.

For He did it for me.

And He now is in me, I am dead, He now reigns in.

So I hope she felt Him.

For it surely was not me.

But Him.

Thank you for washing my feet and my soul, Abba.

sounds of the sun: story telling

Two years ago.

I came toIndiafor the third time.

I was living in a little village outside ofDelhi.

It was a significant time.

For I was introduced to thirty two children.

And I started to understand, shallow deep, this culture.

To top it all off, I met my precious husband.

As I have been reading back thru thoughts of that time, I am reminded.

Of Him.

Of His glory.

Of His restoration.

Of His presence even in suffering.

This is some of what I wrote.

 

“The other night I found myself on our rooftop.

Sitting.

Gazing.

Thick heat & haze clouding stars above.

But the moon was full of orange, hanging proudly, shining forth.

It was beautiful.

I was soon joined by Abhay and Palab.

On each side of me they were sitting.

Chatting away.

Leaning in close.

Beautiful diwali fireworks were sparkling and flying in the distance.

Their little eyes bedazzled, in wonder.

Such curious, new wonder.

Up we gazed.

Beauty we saw.

New colors acrossDelhisummer skies we beheld.

How I wish someone was behind with a camera.

To capture and freeze that moment.

But there was no one.

Probably better that way.

But soon the naivete and unscathed beauty of the moment faded.

My heart broke.

Love remained.

His love remained.

But my feeble heart was broken.

Realization set in.

These are two boys born into brothels inIndia.

The reality of that was quite overwhelming.

What had they seen in their young age?

What had they heard?
And little Sapna, Abhay’s sister.

Where was she right now?

Did she remember?

Did that beautiful free spirit remember what she had seen?

Did she dwell in it?

Or did she suppress it?

Most likely, she was downstairs, imagination escaping.

Twirling in a frock.

Serving invisible biscuits and chai to the other children and didi’s.

It was her little Picasso world that she has created and run to when life is too much.

When her mind filled with images.

Of abuse.

Mistrust.

Pain.

Promiscuity.

Missing parents.

She escaped.

She dreamed.

She ignored.

For now, this escape works.

But one day it will not.

Oh how I long for her to know the true escape.

The One who can make all things new.

These three children, Sapna, Palab, Abhay.

Are now a part of my life.

Their smiles and laughs are uniquely known.

Their palms, fingertips, and wrinkles within, are known.

Their stories are being heard.

Their names are known.

Three beautiful children made in the image of Abba.

Do they know His name?

Three beautiful children who yearn for the love of a mother ad father.

Three beautiful children, born into the brothels ofIndia.

Generational sin and the darkness of the human heart have heaped layers of pain and injustice upon these three.

They are stained.

But He comes to wash.

With Water, Living.

That is what they need.

 

What can wash away our sin?

Nothing but the Blood.”

 

“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow”  prophet isaiah

 

* The names of the children have been changed. Many of you know whom I am writing about . I tried to name them uniquely. I gave them hindi names with specific meanings:

 

Sapna- to dream

Sapna- she is a dreamer. A beautiful free spirit. Who dreams. Her clothing, her painting, her wide eyes, her laughter, and her independence yet affection for love. In my eyes, she is a dreamer.

 

Abhay- brave, fearless

Abhay- he is a little warrior but often times falls to deceit and cowardice. Like we all do. He lives for others. I long for him to have courage and fearlessness. I long for him to live for an audience of One. And in that living, fear of others and what is to come vanishes.

 

Palab- budding leaf

Palab- This little one is a goober. But I think something great is in the works. I believe he is budding into something magnificent. Surely, a good work was started by Him above. I believe He will bring it to completion. In those old words I still rest, “nothing but the blood”

in our backyard.

The more I live in the east.

The more so much of what  I believe comes to life.

So much of what I believe

Is painted before me.,

Lived out in front of me,

And I realize it is because He.

He came from a culture much like this one.

And I hear His gruff, yet calming, voice gently teaching and instructing.

Parables of Truth.

To the crowds, plenty.

Today?

The fields are plenty.

The fields are harvest full.

But as you squint eyes to see.

There are only a few.

A few workers.

His parable,

To me and you.

We are to ask.

Ask Him.

To send.

More workers.

To the fields, harvest full.

But balance.

Always balance.

That plea.

With.

Stillness.

Be still and KNOW.

He.

Know He.

Know He will.

Know He will be exalted.