Airplanes and Dreams

Today when I worked in the wheat fields with the boys, we had an interesting conversation about airplanes. They curiously asked, “Can you open windows in a plane?” “Is there a parachute in the plane?” “How does it go up, if the wings don’t flap like a bird?” “What can you see when you’re way up in the sky?” “How do you make a bomb?” All the boys began to perk up as I told stories of airport security, metal detectors, etc. I told them how when you’re in the sky, the cars look like ants and when you go up even higher, the clouds look like cotton. It occurred to me that to fly in a plane seems like a dream world to these boys from Northern India, who rarely ever see a plane and most likely will never fly in one.

Jeff recently asked the older boys to journal about their life dreams. They wrote down things like: to hear from God, to get a good education, to be a father, to be someone who is trustworthy, to be a husband, to be a hard worker, and to have a steady job. Vimal wrote on the top of his paper, “Dreams don’t come true.” It was a sad reminder that many of these boys are filled with disappointment and low expectations. Jeff challenged the boys with something his youth pastor used to say, “Life is not determined by what you want, but by the choices you make.” We are trying to instill in them that they matter, they have potential, and that God has created them for a unique purpose.

I wonder for you, what’s your dream? Are you living it? Are you fully alive to what God has created you to be?

Mark Twain said, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

I love the last lines of the book, “Organic Church,” by Neil Cole (a must- read book that is helping to form the way Jeff and I look at church). “Do not settle for rusting in the harbor over the decades. Set sail on the oceans of risk, and let God lead you to stories that are worthy of being told.”

The Trax

This is the automobile we use for transportation. It smells like diesel, is piping hot, always filled with flies, and has a hole in the front floor that lets you see the road as you’re driving. One of these days when I slam the door shut, I fear it will fall off it’s hinges. Whenever we get in, I smile and think, "I wonder what kind of adventure we'll get ourselves into today?"

Our kids get giddy when we go for a ride to town. I think they love the freedom of no car seats and that they get to ride next to Daddy up front, with no seat belts. Bumpity, bump, chuggeda bang…we bounce along the roads, swerving for cows, school children, oncoming traffic, and women walking with water jugs on their heads.

Jeff is so brave to drive in Indian traffic, and we have done so the past few weeks in order to go to the nearest town to use the internet café and buy some fruit at the market. Recently when we were bumping along on the dirt road, Clayton exclaimed with glee, “I love India! I never want to leave!” He has come full circle from when we came and he cried saying he wanted to go home to the States... and now this! We are all going to miss India when we leave in 5 weeks.

Easter

Easter was such a special culmination of this 6 week journey we’ve been on with the boys. Jeff made pancakes and scrambled eggs as an Easter breakfast for all the boys. He used 34 cups of flour, 50 eggs, 25 cups of milk, etc. The boys loved the pancakes and for many of them it was their first time to ever have the treat.

In church that morning, we had a neat time of sharing from so many different boys about ways the Sacred Journey had impacted their life. The younger boys recited Philippians 2:1-7 from memory and received a bouncy ball or matchbox car as their prize. The older boys took turns reading Scripture, leading songs, or sharing their story of what God had been teaching them. It was a beautiful day in so many ways.

We colored Easter eggs as a family and Jeff and the kids made a nest out of twigs from the fields here. I thought it was a fun way to have a tradition from home come to India with us.

On a discouraging note, later that night some of the boys got in trouble for spreading rumors about one of the house dads here. Others that same week snuck off campus. We know that even in the midst of our greatest triumphs here, there is still an enemy who is on the prowl, seeking whom he may devour. I’m sure you’ve found this to be true in your life as well. May we be ready to stand firm against him.

Wheat Harvest #2

We are on Day 12 of wheat harvest. Jeff and I have joked that this has been like a 12 day wilderness trip. He gets up at 5:30 a.m. to cut and gather wheat with the boys from 4th grade and up. Then after school in the afternoons I help “manage” a rowdy group of 5-12 year olds as we glean the wheat fields.

I’m so proud of Jeff and how he has just worked right alongside these guys. They jokingly call him “Captain” because he cuts so quickly and works so hard. They can’t believe that this is his first wheat harvest ever. He has kind of taken the William Wallace “Braveheart” approach to rally the troops. The boys love him and his zeal! Here he is carrying a load of wheat on his head, Indian style. And here is Little Ratan…following in Jeff’s footsteps. These boys have worked so hard. We’re so proud of them. Wheat harvest is almost over. Ahhh.

Wheat harvest

Our bodies are scratched and bloody from the wheat we’ve encountered this week. It is the time of the year for wheat harvest . . . a huge undertaking and all the boys help out with it. The bigger boys cut the wheat and the smaller boys gather.
The big boys wake up at 5:30 a.m. to cut wheat for a few hours in the morning before heading off to school. Everyone goes out after school from 4:00 ‘til dark (about 7:30). It’s an amazing thing to watch the little guys come with their huge armloads of wheat and bring it to the threshing machine. The whole process takes about two weeks as there are at least ten fields that need to be harvested. It’s not without some pain…the weather right now is incredibly hot, dusty, and the wheat cuts or scratches any part of the body it touches. But, the boys know they must work to eat. This wheat will be enough to make chipati (flat bread made of flour and water) for the whole year.
I’ve noticed so many biblical illustrations as this process has unfolded.
“The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.” (Matthew 9:37-38) The needs in India are HUGE. Would you come and help? Would you give of your money and resources to help those who cannot help themselves?

“I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest.” (John 4:35)

“Are you willing to say to God that He can have whatever He wants? Do you believe that wholehearted commitment to Him is more important than any other thing or person in your life? Do you know that nothing you do in this life will ever matter, unless it is about loving God and loving the people He has made?” (Francis Chan, Crazy Love.)

Swim

Ahhhh. Cool fresh water. The highlight of the boys’ day is to get a break from the heat and go for an afternoon swim. The water in the pool is used all week and then drained to irrigate the gardens each Saturday.

We’ve been giving swim lessons to the little boys and it’s been so fun to watch them learn with excitement! It makes me laugh to be in there with 30 boys jumping, splashing and yelling. It’s pretty much mass chaos. One other volunteer brought a huge floaty for them to play with. They had never seen anything like it.

Even the smaller ones who don’t know how to swim are too brave for their own good. So when one jumps in, I have to yell, “That’s Abdulla! Does he know how to swim?” And then I rush over and save him!

My burden has been lifted

The boys’ favorite story to read at bedtime is “Dangerous Journey,” the story of Pilgrim’s Progress, by John Bunyon. It tells of a man named Christian who is on a journey to the celestial city and of all the dangers he encounters along the way.

“Now I saw in my dream that the road…was fenced on either side with a wall. The wall was named Salvation. Along this road did burdened Christian run. Or should we say, he did his best to run, so far as he could, with that load upon his back. At the foot of a hill, he passed an open tomb. Then up again, upon a little knoll, he found himself beneath a wayside cross. And as its shadow fell across him, so suddenly the burden, slipping from his shoulders, fell from off his back. It tumbled down the hill… into the mouth of the tomb. It was never seen again. Christian kept feeling behind his back. He couldn’t believe it. For it was very surprising to him that the simple act of gazing at the cross had set him free, and his burden of guilt was gone.”

Thank you, Jesus for the cross, and for Your depth of sacrifice and love. May the reality of that affect how we live each day.

Remember

We have had a special week with these boys as we have anticipated Easter. On Wednesday night, we followed Jesus’ example and washed each other’s feet. In Indian culture, this is crazy, because no “master” or high caste person would ever even touch a low caste person, much less do something humbling like wash feet. But, Jesus Christ (the Most High God) turned it upside down when he washed the feet of his disciples.

I went to the house of the middle boys (ages 9-12). I washed the boys’ feet with the houseparents, and told them, “This is because we love you, and want to serve you.” The boys had little smiles and said, “Thank you Mam.” As we were nearing the end, Little Ratan tugged at the edge of my kurta and whispered, “Mam, I wash your feet?” So I sat down and was enveloped in a hug from Faizal (age 9) as my feet were immersed in water and splashed and scrubbed by about 5 little smiling boys. I was humbled because my feet were the dirtiest of all. But isn’t it just like God…to wash even our dirtiest parts of our lives and scrub them clean?

Then for Good Friday, Jeff set up stations where we could pray, journal, draw, etc. John (age 12) drew this picture and so beautifully wrote,

“Remember me in this day. Remember me that I died this very day. Remember me all the time. Remember me in your dream. Remember me when you are giving thanks. Remember me when you are praying. Remember me because I died for you. I paid your debts. I was crucified for you. I came to earth for you. I left my home and came to earth because of you.”

Fruit Stand

This is the little place where I buy fruit each week. I love how the colorful fruits spill out of the tent.

It is good

The boys here work hard a few hours each day. They work in the fields, weeding, planting, watering, gathering food from the garden, picking up rocks, hauling leaves, etc. I counted about 14 of them in this tractor the other day.

Recently we rode in it with them after clearing a huge pile of leaves. They were laughing, yelling, and jumping around in the leaves. I felt like we were on a hay ride. As we bounced along, I looked over at Sumit (age 10) sitting next to me, and he said in his Indian accent, “Eet ees goot.” I looked up at the blue sky, felt the wind in my face, and saw Nanda throw some leaves up in the air. Yes, it is good, Sumit. Good to work hard, and enjoy the fruits of your labor. Watching them makes me want my kids to grow up with the same hard work ethic and to take pride in their work.

Palm Sunday

Ours was a Palm Sunday to remember. After breakfast, the boys climbed trees to get palm branches, or any other type of green leafy branch. They came to our meeting room with leaves tied around their heads or hanging out of their shirts.

Jeff asked them to act out the story of Jesus riding on the donkey in the midst of the people. Amanda read,

“They (the disciples) brought the donkey and the colt, placed their cloaks on them, and Jesus sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted, “…Hosanna in the highest!” (Matt.21:6-9)

The boys put their branches in the middle of the floor, and the women added our Indian scarves to the pile too. Abishek was the donkey, and Thapa was Jesus.

After the “drama” ended, we shouted “Hosanna,” to which the bongo drums added, echoing around the room. And then we began singing, “Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna in the highest, Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna in the highest. Lord, we lift up Your Name, with hearts full of praise. Be exalted oh Lord most High, Hosanna in the highest. Glory, glory, glory to the King of Kings…. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus is the King of Kings.”

It was a beautiful moment . . . full of branches waving, hands clapping, smiles all around, and the loud voices of children mixed with the beat of a drum. It brought tears to my eyes as I thought of their childlike faith and their love for their Heavenly King.

Super Mam

My Mom, known to the boys as “Jan-Mam,” has been a shining star here. For the past 3 ½ weeks, she has braved the spicy Indian food, bucket baths, kitchen cockroaches, fruit-flies, lizards, and even a cobra. While here, she took on many roles…She stitched up countless holes in these active boys’ clothing, read hundreds of storybooks, went on a "shopping trip" with Amanda and me, was puppeteer for the preschool, threw Frisbees, taught boys how to play Skip-bo, and applied Vaseline on the toughened feet of the little ones at bedtime. She taught Sumit how to knit dishrags. He was so proud of his accomplishment.

She lived with Amanda and this house full of adventurous and silly boys. (L to R: Anshuman, Avinash, Rahul, Ashutosh, Abdulla, Ajay, Miraj, and Ashish.)Mom, what a full month we had! I'm so happy to call you my Mom. Thank you for your gift of time and love. I believe it will have eternal rewards.

“What you’ve done unto the least of these, you’ve done unto Me.” (Jesus)