3 kids

We are in the midst of a VBS - with over 90 odd kids clocking in each day.

Its an amazing opportunity to bring hope to kids from many of our families - a time when we are with them and are able to share the joy of Jesus in a tangible way.

The whole operation - in the sweltering heat of late May - has been a challenge. As has been the challenge of looking after the 90 plus kids. There is a lot which seems to border on the anarchical - any time we do not have completely structured activities - the kids are running around - chasing, grabbing - a vast sea of Brownian motion. Some of our larger group sessions also suffer from this challenge - keeping the children focussed when poking their neighbour is always more fun...

I must admit that my patience (never very thick) has been wearing thin and it has shown many a time over these last few days.

But consider three of the children.

One rambunctious boy - when I sat and had lunch with me told me that his mother was in hospital - and that she was undergoing surgery today. After his father's death he had been in a hostel and has been sent back for bad behaviour. His mother has HIV (though he did not tell me this) and is being operated for cervical cancer.

Yesterday a girl bit our daughter. So hard that blood came. We prayed and talked with Asha. She forgave the girl. We have been praying for this girl a lot. Today she seemed a little more subdued. An orphan, the girl is being looked after by a single lady who has suffered a lot in the care of this girl.

Another girl complained to me that a certain boy keeps coming and hitting the girls in her group on the head with pencils. When I talked to the boy's teacher he told me that the boy told him that his father comes home drunk almost every night. He then wakes up the boy and starts beating him. Its no wonder we see such violent behaviour lived out in miniature.

And so it goes. Each one of these kids has been made in God's image. But so many have already started on a life of deviance and mistrust. We know many of their parents and it is a tragedy to see some of the same destructive behaviour live on in these children.

The VBS is one small step in this direction. In breaking some of the cycles of despair. We hold out the word - and allow God to do the work. We see so many limitations in us, but are heartened by the love and sacrifice of our teachers and volunteers.

Can the lives of these three kids be changed? They can, and we hope and trust that they will.
VBS teachers and volunteers talk and pray at the end of the day.

The butcher butchered

Prabhakaran is dead.

Many men have lived and died. A few have become known for their hold over others. The late Prabhakaran surely fits this scheme. I remember reading the first accounts of the civil war in Sri Lanka in the early 80s. I had just started my then fascination with TIME magazine - purchasing it from old paper shops and reading up on 'the big world.' There were articles about various Tamil liberation groups that had sprung up - some clearly getting support from their brethren in Tamil Nadu.

PLOTE, TELO and others have come and gone. One group prospered. The LTTE, driven by their leader Prabhakaran carved out a niche for themselves. Carved it out with blood. Much of it their own - and the many that they pressed into service. The man who made all this possible: Prabhakaran.

When we heard that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Centre in New York, my first thought out there at the small rural mission hospital we were working at, was that it had to somehow be linked with Prabhakaran.

I still remember hearing with dismay that Rajiv Gandhi was killed. How? With a human bomb. Something we could not believe at the time.

Prabhakaran believed. He pioneered the widespread use of human bombs. It is said that the bombers would be given a meal with him the night before they executed their missions. The power of this man. The allure of his thought of a Tamil nation. The hard ruthlessness that saw him take on the world, extort cash in millions from Sri Lankan Tamils abroad, run an army who kept the Sri Lankan national army at bay, who were willing to fight with the Indian Peace Keeping Force in Sri Lanka (inflicting heavy losses on our soldiers), who believed in himself above all.

We now have a picture of a bloated corpse, which the finally triumphant Sri Lankan military says is that of Prabhakaran.

The open eyes staring skyward are empty.

How does a single man wield so much clout? Where in the grand scheme of things do individuals tip the tide of history? Would the tearful recent history of the tear-drop nation of Serendip have been different without a Prabhakaran?

And what of the 70,000 who have been killed in the fighting over the years? Where in the scheme of things do we allot the murders on all sides. The deaths of journalists in Colombo. The deaths of young Tamil men taken for questioning over the years. The deaths of the civilians of every stripe of ethnicity and persuasion.

The guns have stopped. For some time at least. The last few days have seen such horror.

Much of the savagery was concentrated on a shallow strip of beach where the LTTE held its final stand, using thousands of civilians as their shield to operate from, and where the Sri Lankan armed forces mercilessly bombarded with artillery shells. Prabhakaran and his men had never given quarter. This time the SL army made sure they did not survive to rebuild. In the mix thousands were killed.

In my head my various Sri Lankan friends come to mind. Arvinda, Dan, Mark, Raj... from Sinhalese, Burgher and Tamil backgrounds. Will they be able to look back at May 19 2009 as a day when their country turned the corner and started rebuilding - or are we looking at the valourisation of one of the most cruel men of all times - and another unending struggle for sovereignity that flows through the barrel of a gun?

A week and a different (?) world.

They say a week is like a life-time in politics.

It certainly feels like it in some ways.

On the 16th of May the counting of the votes of our gargantuan national election finally were counted. In the days leading up to this verdict day the press was in a tizzy predicting all manner of scenarios. The regional and caste-based parties who had been the king-makers in the last number of elections were flexing their muscles (and sound-bites). The big two - the Indian National Congress - and the Bharatiya Janata Party - seemed locked in a struggle of attrition. Every one thought it would be an indecisive and 'hung' parliament.

The picture above - taken from the Indian Express front page of May 12th expressed the national mood (or at least the media mood) elegantly: May 16th would reveal who has the 'kursi' - the proverbial chair of power that all seemed to be hankering for.

Well we all had quite a surprise when the results were announced. Who would have thought that the Congress would get more than 200 seats. That Dr. Manmohan Singh would be the first Prime Minister to be re-elected for a 5 year term since 1957. That the Congress would sweep both Mumbai (6/6) and Delhi (7/7). There are so many fascinating sub-stories to all of this - but lets just put it this way. None of us thought we would see such a clear mandate. We were surprised in 2004 when the "India Shining" of the BJP did not shine so brightly after all - and here we are surprised again. A lot of prayers went up regarding these elections - but how much faith in the outcomes? Perhaps our Lord wanted to surprise us, his dear doubting-while-praying children.

The sobering fact is that governance is and will never be easy. We have seen the better choice of some pretty unsavoury choices - and are glad. But the victors are hardly folks who smell of roses all around. We have much more praying to do for our dear land.

The market likes what it smells though - with no more pesky marxists around (real ones - not like the American name-calling that goes on) - the decks seem cleared for some genuine reforms.

A week has passed. Will we see changes that last longer than the euphoria of election results?

Last day

The trainees from North India return to North India today.

Before they go, they will visit the same families they did on their first day of training. The will visit, we believe - with new eyes - and a fire in their heart to bless people with HIV through local prayer groups and worshipping communities across the Northern States they are from.

We are proud of our JSK team who have rallied magnificently and poured themselves into this training. We trust and hope and believe that it will bear deep and lasting fruit as our dear friends now start their long journeys home!

Bon voyage - and light the candle!

You are the light of the world, a city on a hill cannot be hidden...

Brokenness

Almost each day brings us face to face with the tragedy of HIV.

While we have been teaching and sharing with people from all over north India in the gospel hall just behind our centre (courtesy of the kind help of the local Brethren Assembly) some people have been coming for HIV testing - and others have come holding test reports that they are HIV positive.

Lets focus on one family.

He is scared. He is HIV positive. He is sick. She has come straight from the village to care for him. They are vegetable vendours from the hinterland near Varanasi. She hides behind a bright red veil, not showing her face to anyone.

They have moved from place to place in his sickness. No one wants to look after them. Finally they ended up at his elder brother's room here in Thane. His elder brother looks old and weathered enough to be his father.

The man is shattered and scared. His wife - fresh from the village cannot make sense of the city. They yearn to be heard. The older brother is disgusted "He never listened to me - now look what has happened to him". But at least the older brother somehow found out about JSK and brought this little family here.

The story is not over. The story is far from over.

But a beginning. A contact. A friendship has been started.

Listen. Understand. Suggest. Pray. Encourage. Hope. Touch. Hold. Believe.

Training of Trainers (and Doers)

We are in the middle of an amazing experience of training folks from all over North India in basic Home-Care for HIV through local churches. Its heady stuff to be sharing our experiences with folks from the field. From many different fields.

We have church-planters from Sikkim, folks from a big mission hospital in Gujarat, small house-fellowship promoters from Bihar, people running an NGO in Madhya Pradesh. In short the complex and varied set of folks that God is using in various ways across our wonderful country.

All this to say: what a great opportunity to see God's love reach out to areas where people with HIV do not have care. Want a tremendous potential God has placed in each of us - each one so capable of making a huge difference if we take the path of loving obedience to what our Master desires of us.

The basic command is so simple. Love God. Love Neighbour. The basic set of humanity at our disposal is so flawed. But yet from the very beginning God has specialised in using very flawed, very simple 'salt of the earth' to make huge changes. Its a privilege to be part of this process, and to see people excited about helping others. May our inputs in training be translated into a lot of doing!

Generosity

We have been given so much. And yet how can we ever top folks like Mrs. Nahur.

Mrs. Nahur's family is in a mess. Each one of her 3 daughters have made very sad choices by way of husbands - and are working through much rubble. Mrs. Nahur's husband - an apparently dry alcoholic who has tortured her in the past - is tired of one their dead-beat (and HIV positive) son-in-laws and has forbidden her to help the family until the young men gets a job. There is a basic logic her husband's thoughts - but the reality is that this young man has TB and has just started on ART too.

Mrs. Nahur has been suffering from vomitting and severe headaches. Probably due to the challenges and strains she faces.

Mrs. Nahur has seen some direct answers to prayer though.

One of her daughters left her husband and eloped with a former flame of hers. He left his wife and 2 children for her. Mrs. Nahur prayed. Hard. Amazingly they have both gone back to their families. The impossible is in the realm of reality.

Today Mrs. Nahur came to the centre. In all the troubles she has, Mrs. Nahur is determined to give. And give she did. A sizable amount of money (a navy man came by today too - and gave only a 5th of what she did. Then she brought a brand new sari for one of our HIV postiive ladies. And one for a staff member who got married recently. All three items well beyond her means - but expressions of love.

Thinking about the amazing lady, the following words of Scripture come to mind:

And now, brothers, we want you to know about the grace that God has given the Macedonian churches. Out of the most severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity. For I testify that they gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability. 2 Cor. 8,1-3a

What a privilege to know these true saints. Sinners saved by grace.