I'm really a part of this city. Not just a visitor.
I've sewn next to the ladies long enough that I'm no longer just someone there to offer a little help, but someone who wants to know them and know their work. I've cared for the kids at Shishu Bhavan long enough to know their precious hearts, not just know their disorders. I speak enough Bangla to communicate with friends and strangers. I've walked the same roads long enough for people to realize I'm not some tourist passing by. I've ridden the Monday 8:19 train enough Mondays to have made friends with a lady that either holds my bag or pushes people down to make room for me to sit.
This has been beautiful to realize.
It's all about the relationships. That is what grounds me to this place. I don't like this city. I would never desire to live here. But I love these people. And I would never desire to leave them. Sadly, that chapter will come. I know I've spoken this a million times before, but lately I've been worried about how I will mourn leaving these people. How I will heal the wounds that are left when they are missing from my life? I'm nervous for this. But I know the Lord has plans. He wouldn't be stirring so much in my heart if he didn't. Remind me of this if I forget when I'm home and crying to any of you reading this now.
Today, as me and Erin walked home from the metro, we stopped at a little simosa and cha stand and Erin introduced me to the ladies there. Then a stranger, I repeat a complete stranger (a lady of course), bought us both two simosas and a cup of lal cha. Who would ever do that in the states? I can't even properly communicate with these people. I can't really ask them about their day and understand much of what they say. I can't connect with them using words, but you better believe they are going to love me well. Force-feeding is the love language here. And today, right after lunch I got enough food to fill me up again. I didn't really want that food...but you receive in this culture...you do not object to receiving gifts. It's lovely. I've learned here that I'm so bad at being the receiver. I'm not a big gift person...some people are and that's great, but I'm not. But here I've learned to be. Here you receive so that really you give back...in thankfulness. Blogged about that earlier, and the Lord continues to show me that. It's so interesting. It's like in America we don't receive because that somehow communicates that we need...that we are needy people...and that requires us to be humble about it. Humility is something that we could all use a little bit more of. Today I was the receiver of love...and yes, I needed it. I needed it to remind me that I'm wrong when thinking all of this place is bad...or all of this place needs my help. Because really, I'm the one that often needs the help...the love. It's beautiful to learn I'm so wrong in my assumptions about this city as a whole. Yes, there are very ugly things about this city, but tell me a city that doesn't have ugly things. You can't. So, instead I'll seek the beauty. I'll seek the love. And I've found it in the relationships.
People make this place real for me. People make this city more than the deteriorating stone walls I see everywhere, the same walls that are a perfect visual for the sadness in this city...rigid and crumbling. There is also life here. Just like the lovely vines that grow up those stone walls. Both the vines and people add beauty to something so broken.
Also, something beyond sweet that the Lord has shown me: love is a fuel. I know this sounds cheesy, but for me it's real. It has application. See, when I posted that blog a little time ago about being exhausted...not feeling as though I have capacity for anything, I was reminded that something much greater than my strength is what operates in my life. When I love others, I'm filled. My exhaustion exists, but love fans the fire that keeps me giving, keeps me serving. It's nothing I do. It's his overflow...and I get the blessings.
Prayer requests...
- The ladies. There seems to be never ending chaos in their lives.
- My host family. Always something...always.
- The pastor's wife at our church. She has been in the hospital for quite some time. He always requests prayer for her...and he speaks with such hope about when she is out, but she is very sick.
- The kids at Shishu Bhavan. My little Roshan. They all need so much more than the sisters and mashis can provide. Love is good, but these are children with disorders. Disorders that no one there really understands, therefore they don't understand how to properly handle or treat the children. So difficult seeing this need, but being helpless myself. Also, there is a new baby boy there - his name is Omal and he is five months old. He has what is widely known as "water on the brain". I don't know how much longer this baby will live. Not sure if surgery is even an option for him, it is so incredibly severe. This isn't the best place for him to be, but it's about the only place. Pray for him...and whatever blessings the Lord sees best to pour over his young life.
- Lastly, pray for me and the team. We are at the six weeks remaining mark, and that will fly by. Especially with all the things going on...holidays, parties, activities, major events, etc. It will be gone quickly. I can't imagine a life different than this one after so long and I'm so nervous about coming home. I also just got an e-mail from the company I'm working for and my start date, which I was told would be beginning of February, is actually going to be January 16th. I'll have 18 days until I start work. Only 18 days to get back into the jive of America, only 18 days to rest, only 18 days to visit family and friends, and less than 18 days to move to Dallas. This will be draining. And even though I don't want my time here to disappear as I figure out what the next chapter in my life will look like, I need major prays as to how all of that will play out. I expected much more time. But just gonna go with the flow. It will work out according to planned.
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