January 8, 2009
It about 6pm and we're still on the train headed to Delhi. I've been looking through photos from our trip and listening to some music. I just bought a 4oz. cup of coffee (the only size offered) which tastes more like a yummy steamer, and there are cockraoches galore even up here on the third level cramped bed where I'm laying.
I won't mention the mouse I saw scurry underneath the bed on the lower right (see above photo). The leg on the right belongs to an Indian gentleman who felt compelled to serenade the train with "When a Man Loves a Woman" followed by "Give Me One Reason to Stay Here."
I am so deeply grateful to have been a part of this work in India. My heart feels full and throbbing with joy (and that's coming from someone who spent years struggling with depression). As I look at all these photos of us serving women in the villages I think about Jesus washing his disciples' feet, healing and teaching people, touching the untouchable, extending hope in the darkness. "Die to self and you will live," he says.
At several points during this trip and even when I felt thoroughly exhausted, famished, and sore all over, I'd look out the car window and stare at all the sights, the people and their poverty, and I could feel God's Spirit moving in me, awakening me in places I didn't even know were dormant and dry. Burning. Yearning. Groaning. He was like a fire whispering, "Follow me and you will know what it means to live."
I think Jesus was right on. Life belongs to those willing to forfeit life.
This is nothing new. One does not have to go to India to discover this. But I am grateful to have been reminded of a timeless truth in an often anxious and demanding world. And I'm grateful to know a God who challenges me in every way and beckons me still to know his heart above all else.
No comments:
Post a Comment