Now I face the daunting task of expressing in words the enormity and complexity of two and a half weeks in India. Granted, it could be worse. It could be two and a half years. Although, I feel at that point people are not so much interested in detail as they are in the main chunks of God’s work and the nuggets of truth that were gathered along the way. I’m beginning to think that may be a worthy approach in this case as well. Or possibly I should seek out some kind of balance between detail, God’s work and acquired truths. (I hate the word balance. Or at least what people have done to it. But that’s a whole different topic.) All of that aside, I should tell you a little something about my time in India.
It began with ridiculous amounts of travel. Honestly, I have never traveled such a distance in my life. It went something like this: Van, ferry, van, (sleep in Vancouver), van, plane, (sleep in Japan), plane, bus, (sleep in New Delhi), train, bus, taxi (sleep in Mussoorie), taxi, bus, (sleep in some village), bus, jeep until the road ends. This is where the trekking began. On average we trekked about 10 kilometers a day. Which normally wouldn’t be so grueling except that we were hiking up the foothills of the Himalayas. Do not be fooled by the word foothills. We reached an 11,000-foot altitude before it was all over. Not that I am complaining in any way. There were some difficult moments, but it was in our weakest moments when we were able to find God’s strength and realize the necessity of not going into this with our own power. It was spectacularly beautiful - both visually and spiritually.
The main idea for the trek was to stop and stay in villages along the way. We were able to meet people, play with kids, hear stories, and develop and understanding of how these people live. It’s incredible to see the joy that can spread through a village through a simple game of ‘duck duck goose’ with the kids. The kids love to play and the parents love to watch. Christ’s love was so evident in our group. It resonated through our presence and spread contagiously. Simply being a light in a dark place was the greatest example of Christ to these people. It was not our place to verbally share Christ with the villagers. Our goal was merely to reflect Christ’s love and to pray for the people. However, there was a Christian, Indian man that came with us on the trek. Being Indian made it culturally acceptable for him to share Christ more openly with the people. At one point in the trip this man was able to talk openly about Christ to a family that we were staying with. This whole family gave their lives to Christ. This was the first family in that village to come to Christ. The husband/father of the family made the comment that if he could gain a better understanding of his new faith then maybe he could start telling others about God too. Beautiful. The most effective way to spread the Gospel in these villages is from the inside out rather than relying on others to come and share. This is an incredible answer to prayer.
I wish I had the time to share the many stories of incredible faith that we were able to hear. Faith that allowed stories of God’s miraculous protection, stories of people being healed, stories of God’s incredible power over evil spirits, stories of visions, stories of God reaching down into a broken and desperate place and with a stroke of grace bringing people to Himself. I honestly wouldn’t even know how to begin to tell those stories. The work that God is doing in India is absolutely staggering. It forced me to consider why I have not believed in this God before. My whole life I’ve believed in a limited God. I knew on paper that my God was all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-present. But in reality I did my best to keep him feasibly contained. I lived easily and the last thing I needed was an unexplainable God. Knowledge requires reciprocating action that reflects the knowledge. I wasn’t ready for that kind of knowledge. Moreover, I wasn’t ready for that kind of action. I wasn’t ready for that kind of faith. This trip has forced a reality of God upon me that is much greater than I know what to do with. I’m humbled. I’m a little scared. I’m a little excited. Curiosity is making me wonder, “What if I really surrender?”
