I Slipped...

...but India was there to catch my fall!

It was our first day of ministry work in India. We were loaded onto a bus, which was to become a normal daily routine. We never knew quite how long our rides would be, but it never mattered much. The company, the view and the time to catch up on journaling always made the ride seem less than 5 minutes. I'm certain I could have rode around on the bus for two weeks and been content. The bus was where I did a lot of my thinking. It is where I came to a realization that I am not poor.

Prior to India, I threw the statement, "I'm poor" around frivolously. Any time I did not have the money to buy the latest fun thing, I'd think, "I wish I wasn't so dang poor." India taught me a lesson long overdue. A lesson that my soul had been yearning for.

India taught me that I am not poor.

I learned that there is a huge part of India where people do not have walls to protect them from the outside world. When they lay their heads down to sleep at night, it is the dirt ground that will comfort them. There is no running water for these people. The streams that flow through their villages provide the water they drink. This is the same body of water they bathe in, do their laundry in, pee in, and allow their oxen to cool off in. I never quite figured out how or what they ate, but I have a feeling it wasn't good. There were a few occasions that we handed out various foods to villages, and the desperation for a simple hard boiled egg or banana was enough to tell me exactly what the situation might have been.

Seeing the level of poverty in these villages was unfathomable. It's something that I can never explain entirely...it is something that until you see, you can never fully believe. It was the toughest thing I've ever had to deal with, but the best thing to happen to me. It taught me how truly blessed I am. It taught me how rich I am.

Just yesterday I was talking with a coworker. We had just finished marking prices down on merchandise and I told her that I wanted to get some of the newly priced merchandise, but I was poor.

India caught me...I had to correct myself. I am not poor.

Before I Forget

There will be a full recap of our trip to India this Sunday, March 4th, at all three Revolution Church services. The services are at 9 am, 11 am, and 6 pm. The entire service will be dedicated to stories, pictures, songs and video from our trip. I would love for you all to come and see a bit of what I've experienced.

Hope to see you,

Jenn

I Finally Stopped

I came to a realization this morning while in the shower.

You see, I just got home the night before from a trip to India, and today was to be my day of reflection. I awoke early, as my internal clock has been flopped by the time difference. I began the day by hopping online to check my emails. Two weeks apart from the inbox can really cause a pile-up! Then I needed to get the latest updates on my friends, so I searched through MySpace to see what was new and exciting with everyone. I needed a break from the computer and had no clue what was going on in America, since the only news I've seen in a while is "The Hindu Times," so I flipped on "Fox 11 Morning News." While watching that, I decided to start thumbing through the pile of catalogues and magazines the postmaster had dropped off. As you see, my day of reflection had already been littered with anything but thoughts of India.

Then I took a shower. It was one of those long, hot, fingers wrinkle to look like prunes type of showers. Why the need to tell you this? Because it's in those times when you are forced to stop and think. Having had many years experience shampooing and washing, it promised never to get in the way of allowing one's mind to wander, to dream, to think about life. I broke down.

India came to visit me.

I recalled each set of eyes I had looked into, each cheek I pressed to mine, each frail body I held tight. Many on my team went to India with objectives. Mine was simple, maybe too simple for the main objective of the trip, but something I felt strongly about from the second I signed up. I went to physically touch the people who were labeled "untouchables" by their country. Though I did not speak their language, I wanted to let them know I thought differently of them. It is quite rare for the untouchables to ever be visited, yet they are still trained as humans to extend a hand to shake, should someone approach them. I was not satisfied with a hand shake, and especially disturbed when their hand was extended, but their eyes were bowed to the ground. The shame they felt was what I wanted to lift. I rarely shook a hand, as I did not want to be yet another humanitarian visitor, coming through their village to see the extent of the poverty and yielding to germs or diseases by following up on handshakes with anti-bac solution. I had to look into their eyes. I had to hold on tight to them, whether it be gripping their shoulders, giving them a hug, pressing their face to mine while praying for them, or if an extended hand was the only option due to the crowds and time, I made sure to shake with both hands and extend my eyes as far into their souls as I could. I wanted them to feel loved. I needed them to know they were loved. Love was what I had to offer India.

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." 1 cor 13:13

I am expecting many more visits from India in the days to follow and look forward to sharing them with you!

Love,

Jenn Glenn