School daze

Grey skies, early morning tumbling out of bed, coaxing by parents to get ready for the day, breakfast eaten somehow, tiffins being made in the kitchen... where is the uniform? are the white shoes clean?  The quiet dread of another day at school, are all the books packed?  Grey skies and rain. 

This was my life some 2 score years ago.  These are the days that our next generation are experiencing now.

Asha and Enoch plunged back into their new semester at BSS in Powai.  Is it possible that Asha is in 9th standard already - and Enoch in 7th?   Sure is.  And each day we get them up at 5.30 AM to brave a new set of challenges at school.

Part of the drill for our older 2 is the journey to and from school.   By car and without traffic it takes between 30-40 minutes.   By bus it is longer.  Much longer.   Especially when they come back from school.  Currently Enoch's classes are over by 2.20 PM and over the first week of school he has been arriving back between 4 and 4.45 PM.    Asha's classes are 45 mins more but she gets back at the same time as E.  We wish they were closer to school, but if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.

Our older two are definitely in an age where photos being shot of them are not very welcome - so it was a fairly stern twosome that looked at Sheba as she snapped this one this morning:

The morning wait for the bus is a bit of an institution of course.  Getting out of the house in a rush - with the inevitable this or that being forgotten - and then finally making it out of the lift and to the main gate... only to find that the bus has not come yet.

Asha and Enoch are the furthest to travel from this bus line - so they are the first in the mini-bus that picks them up. Enoch usually redeems the time by burying himself into the sports section of the still fresh morning paper.  I have to go back in time to a young lad who used to devour the 'Times of India' and the 'Daily' tabloid that arrived at 7 AM at our home in Nana Chowk, all those eons ago. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose

This year Asha shifts gear and 'gets serious' about the big 10th standard exam.  She has already been studying '9th standard' material in the end of her last semester of 8th - and tells us that by the end of this semester her teachers will have covered the entire 9th year curriculum.  This is a school that clearly wants its pupils to succeed.  The school website has annouced that all 123 students who appeared for last years' 10th standard exams had passed, and that 43 got more than 90%, and only one was in the 50-60% bracket.  Our kids are certainly with others who are strivers.

The bus finally comes - and in a twinkling our elder two are inside, the bus does a u-turn and they are off for the day!

Which brings us to our little one.  Yohan had a red letter day of his own today.

We have been doing 'home-schooling' for Yohan over these past months.  Sheba has gradually taken more and more of the load, and though we wanted to start with a 1st standard curriculum, we found out that Yohan's basic Hindi and English reading was such that he needed to start from the very, very beginning.  So Sheba has poured herself into helping Yohan learn.

And today Yohan took one step forward.  He started 'school' with Mrs. Priya Sahane.  Priya is a lady who loves children and has been helping coach kids who find school hard - and when we met her about Yohan she readily agreed to take him on.  So this morning we took him over for his first day - with his backpack, a small tiffin and water bottle, his pencil box and a big smile.  Priya has suggested he come every day from 8 AM to 12 PM.  She has another student who she is preparing for his 12th exam using the National Insitute of Open Schooling (NIOS) who comes in at the same time.  She also has other students attending regular school who come in around 10 AM for 2 hours.  Priya is able to focus on the individual students and give them tasks to do.  We are hoping that this will be the next step for Yohan - as he will now be getting individual attention that is focussed on his current abilities as well as having others around him in a learning environment. 

The current plan is to enrol Yohan into the Open Basic Education programme of NIOS.  The OBE level A which we hope to start Yohan with is equivalent of standards 1-3.  The advantage of OBE is that it allows a non-traditional learner to take his or her own time. A blessing if the child is slower than their contemporaries - or vice versa.   The other advantage of the NIOS system is that it is a government programme.  So eventually when (we hope) he appears for his secondary exam (the dreaded '10th standard exam') - it will be accepted on par with the other schools - but with the advantage of being done at Yohan's own pace, and with more flexibility in the choice of subjects.

It's all a learning process for us.  We know that the best education takes place at home - and wish we could consistently give the time and attention that Yohan needs - but having him getting 4 hours of focussed input is a real blessing.   We have seen that his health has improved a lot and he has gained weight too - so now we are taking the first steps to see him step out and up.

Asha and Enoch have mammoth bus rides to work through.  Yohan will be dropped off by the Papaya to start with - with Oma coming along too - and then picked up by his Oma at 12 PM.

Tomorrow is day 2 for Yohan (in this latest step forward at least) - and day many, many, many for Asha and Enoch.  Enoch has been in some kind of schooling since he was 2.5 years old.  We are all learning.  Carpe diem.

Green thumb - and a chance to flower again...

One of my enduring memories growing up at Nana Chowk was Mum's balcony garden.  She had gathered all manner of plants in pots and tin cans - and cared for them like babies.  Needless to say, they flourished - and we had a small green oasis amongst the grime and noise of the big city that ground away outside (we lived at an intersection of at least 6 major roads).
After many years, we find ourselves living with my parents again.  Mum and Dad have joined us here in the city, with cancer being the immediate cause - but many, many blessings flowing from being together.

We also have a small garden in our home - and with Mum taking up residence with us - it got expanded.

Some of the new plants were purchased from a road-side nursery.  Some did not survive (for some reason the marigolds bit the dust).  But some did.  All got tender loving care from Mum.

One of the plants that was added was a small purple plant which had been discarded by someone.  Mum nursed it back to health.

This morning it blossomed.





We have an object lesson in front of us.

That which is discarded can become beautiful.

So many of the people we work with are completely rubbished.   Society sees them as trash.  Family members are tired of looking after them.  Others have burned multiple bridges and have no real hope of reconciliation.  And then the discovery that they have HIV takes place.

Some years ago, a Mumbai pastor got a special insight into a passage of scripture.   A poor barren woman made a song of thanks to God.  Among the words she used in this happy song  were these:

He raises the poor from the dust
    and lifts the needy from the ash heap;
He seats them with princes,
    with the princes of his people.          (1 Sam. 2 and also Psalm 113)

The pastor shared that God is looking at the poor of our city - and sees men and women who have been thrown out as garbage... but He desires to lift them up - and to make them rulers and princes.

How great the love of God is - which He has lavished upon us - that we are called His children.  What a tremendous hope we have.  One that can take the brokenness of our lives and make something beautiful out of it.  

A hope that can help us to help others for which we may have no 'realistic' hope for - and see some blossom - and others at least have the privilege of being loved before they depart this life for eternity.

Promises

The rains are here.  Finally.

After a few muggy overcast days - with the occassional misting of drops, we had our first deluge yesterday morning.  And have had bits and squiggles of rain throughout today.

Our umbrellas are still under something... maybe we will have to buy a new set.

But this evening the sun shone as it set on the rain.  A beautiful sun shower which had us looking around for a rainbow.  And there she was!

Yohan was thrilled.  He says he has never seen one before.   Asha says this is the second time she has seen one.  We are reminded of God's great promise to us - a covenant of love.

We continue to experience grace and challenge in equal measure.

Dad has not been very well this week.  His chemo on Thursday was ok, but he has had dizzyness before and after.  Yesterday he vomitted for the first time.  It's good to have a doctor in the home - Sheba got some stemitil for him and Dad has been a lot better today.  We wish he would eat more, but we are not the ones who have blessed poison in our bodies.

Mum continues to be a source of strength - and blessed us with lasagne last night.  Tonight we had Sheba's chicken fried rice.  The good food continues in the Thane Eicher household.  With all that is going on - its a blessing to be blessed at the dinner table.

Asha and Enoch have one week of their new school year under their belts.  Asha has jumped head-first into her studies.  Apparently the school aims to finish her 9th standard studies... by the end of this semester.  So that they can do the 10th standard work in the second half of 9th standard.  And then spend more time on preparing for the dreaded 10th standard exams... in 10th standard.   Enoch has started 7th standard - and reminds me very much of how I used to be in 7th standard (hint - those were not the most studious years of my life).  

We are also looking for options for Yohan as our home-schooling does not seem to working with us.  We heard that there was a special school at Holy Cross - but when we got there we were told it was for children whose IQ was less than 70.  Yohan has not had much schooling and so is still functionally illiterate - but we don't think he has a learning impairment as far as we know.  What he needs is patient structured learning - something that we are trying to give (Sheba is taking the brunt on this).  One option is to find a tutor so that Yohan can be 'out of the house' for at least some part of the day.  We will probably link him into the NIOS programme, as it is a govt. recognised open school - and is designed for children (and adults) who have had to drop out of school - or who never had a chance to go...

So our lives continue to be full. 

It is such a privilege and honour to have Mum and Dad living with us these days.

Dad's cancer treatment has given us the opportunity to live together as a 3 generational family.  We are living together far longer than I ever got to live with my grandparents.  Our kids are very blessed.

And so we move into the new week.  We are 8 minutes into it as I type on a silent night - every one else deeply sleeping (though Dad's sleep has been pretty light for the last week).  Our 'small family' of 5 will be going to Bhandup for a special worship time when all our house-fellowships meet together - with Mum and Dad having 'church at home' given that Dad has not been feeling perky this past week.

We live in the beauty of promises fulfilled.  The rainbow this evening reminded us of them.

Telling our stories

We spent today discussing about telling our stories.  We were 25-odd folks together at Jeevan Sahara Kendra.  Half HIV positive. Half negative.  Every one with a story to tell.

We focussed on helping our Positive Friends understand the power of story. The remarkable journey that they are on.  The vital role they have to play in speaking up and speaking out.  The amazing way that God has helped them so far.

But Positive or not, each one has a story to tell. Many stories.   Jesus talking to His disciples said that they would be 'his witnesses in Jerusalem, all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.'   Telling stories is not an option. It is a command.  A prophecy.  A grateful response to outpouring love that we have received.

The key to witness is sharing experienced truth.  

For people living with HIV, their world of challenge is still largely hidden and basically ignored by society at large.   But there are so many who need to hear.  30 years into the epidemic and we still are talking monkey-business simple stuff.   3 decades of progress in so many areas and still the shroud of fear cloaks our friends who are living with HIV.

One way of change is to tell.  To let people see the flesh and blood reality.  To give glimpses of the pain and sorrow, as well as the amazing grace so many have experienced.

We talked about how if we speak up, others will be blessed.  Speaking up is not for ourselves, it's primarily for others.  Primarily a gift.

If others know, then they can start treatment early, or be tested to find out about their status, or do something about their relative who they have heard has HIV.  

If others know the sorrow that 'normal-people-like-you-and-me' face, then some of the stigma that pierces us can be lifted.  Some of the normalcy that we need may seep in.  None of us like cancer.  But when a person gets it, we speak it out.  We tell others.  We pray and weep and comfort and encourage.  But that still is not the case for most people living with HIV.

Speaking up and speaking out can also challenge others to help.  So much can be done by simple, ordinary people who are touched with love.  Who seek to love our neighbours as ourselves.

Sharing our stories also gives God the glory.  So much of the hope in our friend's lives comes from encounters with the Living God.   A God who loves and cares and accepts.  A God whose hands are pierced with love and who listens to our cries.   As our friends tell their stories, they also tell about the One who helps and cares - our wounded Healer.

So when to share and what to share.  Well that is what we talked about today.  We did not come away with any cookie-cutter solutions.  But we did come away with a renewed sense that we need to both push the boundaries - step out of our comfort zones - and at the same time be very sensitive to what God is saying.

Speaking up, and speaking about ourselves can so quickly become a vanity project.  Or a pity party.  Or a long-drawn out attention seeking gig.    But speaking the truth as a witness changes the focus.  Grounds our experience in the bigger picture.  Challenges the listener and viewer to change.

Yes, I used the word viewer.

We did something today.  We did a small video shoot.  Totally in-house of course.  But we wanted to help our Positive Friends think and pray about moving the next step.  

We have over the years had folks share in their families and churches.  We have even had a few public meetings where people living with HIV have stood up and told their stories - identifying themselves as HIV positive.  The results have been uniformly positive.  Often in the feed back to a training we organised, the participants will say that the 'testimony of so-and-so' was the highlight of my day.  But all of these situations have been largely controlled.  Not quite 'preaching to the choir' - but certainly in fairly safe and sheltered environments.

Today we gently tried pushing the boundary back a bit.  We talked about speaking our stories to 'the ends of the earth.'  One of the amazing ways we can do this is through video.  Our friend Sheril Mathew and Pankaj his colleague were with us today.  They took three short videos in the morning and did a quick edit and had them back by mid afternoon.  Wow.  The power of these stories. 

We are some way from making what we saw today public.  But we would like to dig deeper into this.  Having our friends share their stories - and have them in short video forms which can be shared on the net and over mobile phones.   Having stories of truth and hope penetrate areas where we would never dream of being able to go.

Exciting days.  Big thoughts.  Long ways to go.  Carpe diem.

Chemo: Cycle 2, dose 2

Dear Friends,

Dad is back at Bethany for his latest dose of Chemo.  I can now write the name of the drug without having to google it: gemcitabine.  Today's hospital admission had me drop of Mum and Dad at the curb, and me drive over to JSK to start the day's work at 8 AM.

There is a sort of new normal to all of this.

But we don't take anything for granted.

As I was driving over to JSK from Bethany, my mobile beeped.   Bro Devraj Kotian had sent an SMS to say that his "Daddy has gone to be with the Lord."   We had been expecting this - Uncle Kotian has spent the last 2 weeks at JSK.  He is not one of our patients, but was receiving palliative care by his family as he was in a comatose state with no real hope of cure.  It was a privilege to observe this family lovingly care for their father.

Today Uncle Kotian slipped out of this world for the next.  Devraj told me that he sensed last night that his father was more relaxed than before.  He sensed that today may be the day.  And it was.  6.30 this morning was Uncle Kotian's home-going to Jesus.  The funeral will be later this afternoon.

I know one day will come when I have the task of sharing my father's death with others.  But at this point - though Dad has gone through major surgery for pancreatic cancer and is currently doing his chemotherapy in room no. 510 of Bethany Hospital, it all seems some distance in the future.

Dad's blood counts were low after his 1 cycle of chemo.  Dad's oncologist postponed the first dose of chemo cycle 2 by a whole week because the overall counts being down and the low neutrophil percentage.   Dose 1 of cycle 2 was given when his neutrophil percentage was 25% (it had risen from 15% three days earlier) and his overall count was at 4400.   We are glad that when we got his blood checked yesterday, the counts had risen to over 6000 for the blood count - and his neutrophil count is now 54%!

After having such a slow rise in his bloods over the previous 3 weeks (when he was not on chemo), to have the counts rise in the week after getting the next dose is something points to another dollop of grace for Dad.  Earlier this week we sent an email update to all of the folks on Dad's mailing list (write to Dad at Ray.Eicher(at)gmail.com if you didn't get it - and want to).  We received another small avalanche of replies - most assuring us of their prayers.  One bit of evidence is in the 'bloods'.

So we have Dad getting his chemo as I write this.  God is very good.  We trust that the blessed poison Dad is getting through his chemoport, into his heart, and out into his body will knock out as many malignant cells as possible, while doing as little damage as possible to the healthy part of Dad.

Soli Deo gloria. 

A few words about Dad... and a special visitor

Dad's chemotherapy has been fairly blessedly uneventful so far.

A small episode of diarrhea 3 weeks ago, some low blood counts to delay his second cycle by a week, and some swollen feet, but so far, Dad's experience has been largely without drama.  

This morning, however, Dad complained of dizzyness.  He stayed indoors instead of coming over to church with us.  We are not sure whether this directly linked with the medications - but we know that it is not easy for Dad.  

Dad missed out on an amazing sharing about 'oneness' that Dr. Fredrick Kellerman shared with us in our fellowship meeting.  How much God wants us to be one with Him - and one with each other.  At home, in our work places, in our places of worship.  What sweet fragrance there is when we die to 'I' and kneel in confession and prayer with each other.  We have so much to learn from our sweet Lord Jesus who modelled this for us, and who sends His Holy Spirit to help us live this out as a sweet fragrance.

How I wished that Sheba and Asha and Enoch could have heard this beautiful teaching - but they were on the other coast of India, hearing a Telegu sermon at the fellowship that Amma and Appa attend in Gajuwaka, Andhra Pradesh.  I am counting down the hours till they return on Tuesday evening after seizing this blessed window of opportunity to be with Amma and Appa just before school starts for Asha and Enoch next week.  The visit is especially sweet as Sheba's elder sister Daisy and her husband Ramesh and their kids Frankie and Shofar are also there.

In the afternoon, we Thane Eichers were blessed with a very special visitor - Uncle Alfy Franks - who along with Dad helped lead OM India for many years.

What a joy to see the two old friends and co-labourers talk and pray together.   Dad handed over leadership responsbilities to a new generation in the late 1980s.  Soberingly, he was the age I am today when he heard the Lord telling him that it was time to let younger men take up the responsibilities that had been entrusted to him while he was in his late 20s! 

In the mean-while uncle Alfy continued to serve as a mentor within the movement, and has stayed on as it has gradually transformed itself into a network of many indigenous churches across the country.  As uncle Alfy put it to us this afternoon, given the need to provide structure for the current iteration of this movement, he has taken on episcopal duties in the Good Shepherd Church of India.

Over the last year, Uncle Alfy has been writing down various thoughts and stories of how God has worked in their lives during their OM days.  And Dad has used the last week organising these into a chronological narrative.  What a rich heritage of love these two men have - and how much they have been able to work through.  How many hours of prayer they have experienced together.  What tears they shed, what disappointments they lived through... and what joys they also were able to see.

In the early evening, after uncle Alfy had left, Mum talked to me.  She told about how at a very crucial part of her life, uncle Alfy had told her: "Christa, I know that you do not have any siblings since you are an only child - but I want you to know that I am here for you as your brother."   Mum was deeply touched by those words, and they echo into her life today.

Once upon a time in a hospital...

India is a big country.  Very big.  And for us Eichers in Thane, we can get pretty caught up in the here and now and forget what is going on in the hinterland.

One small way of staying in touch with the challenges and joys of serving in the neglected parts of our land has been our attempts to visit Dr. Chering Tenzing in the various places she has been serving over the past 13 years.

Chering and Sheba did their higher studies out of the Christian Fellowship Hospital in Oddanchataram - Chering in Medicine and Sheba in Family Medicine.  True to the name of that hospital - they have maintained Christian fellowship ever since.

Chering was posted to Nav Jeevan Hospital in Jharkhand just as we were leaving the place and moving to Mumbai to work with local churches reaching out to people living with HIV.  It was our good pleasure to visit her twice at NJH.  Then she was shifted to the Herbertpur  and we managed to catch up with her there at least once.  Then a stint in the UK (we didn't get to see her there) and now for the last 2 years Chering has been serving at the Lakhnadon Christian Hospital in the Seoni District of Madhya Pradesh.

So ever since Chering has been at Lakhnadon, we have been following some of her adventures on her blog: What Gives - but have not been there 'in the flesh.'   Till last month that is.

Summer for us normally means going to somewhere cool.  But with Dad here for chemo and the powers-that-be deciding for us that Mussoorie is unsuitable for young Yohan, we are parked in Thane and have ended up sending out small sorties.

One such was having Asha and her friend Jemima spend a week with Chering.   Sheba took them up to Lakhnadon and left them in Chering's care - and I had the joy of following and picking them up.  Sheba and my book-ending Asha's trip allowed us also to get a glimpse of the world Chering finds herself in.

It's a world far off the beaten track.

A world which takes you through forest lands and onto a large open plain. Like this sight which I got on the bus from Jabalpur to Lakhnadon.

After the exhiliration of passing through the big open, the town of Lakhnadon ends up being a bit of a wimper.  A fairly small stuffy place without much charm other than a bunch of buildings clustering onto a road.  The normal chaos of roadside ugliness in small town India very much on display. 

I had expected the hospital to be in a prominent place in the middle of town, but is seemed to be on a sleepy side road, almost unnoticable among the wires and shacks that litter the side of the street.

My bus had dropped me off on the high way and as I was walking to the hospital, their ambulance driver stopped me on the street (foreign looking guy pulling small black backpack on wheels) and inquired whether I was going to the Mission hospital.  I was, and so I got a ride for the last 700 meters or so.

Lakhnadon is about 2 hours from Jabalpur if you are driving crazy fast in a jeep.  The roads are superb by Maharasthran standards.  Smooth.  The bus conductor chappie told me that things were worse a few years ago.  Jabalpur itself seems from a different era.

At least at 6 AM on a Sunday morning that is.

The wide, empty streets near the railway station seemed to have a fair number of Christian institutions - such as a set of large schools.

And what looks to be something straight out of the 18th century - a red painted building in the middle of town that seems to be the town hall but I understand may currently be a library.


Progress has 'arrived' at Jabbalpur.  The shiny mall-style buildings that our urbanisation has foisted on us showed up in a few places, as my cycle rickshaw swung me through the silent streets of dawn.  Since I was on my way to a Mission hospital in a smallish place, I couldn't help notice what looked like Jabbalpur's answer to Fortis or Max - the Infinity Heart Institute - complete with the slogan ' adding life to lives."  One wonders what may be infinite about this hospital - other than the costs and the ambitions of its founders?



Anyway, the swanky building is further adorned with a "yellow chilli" restaurant in its basement (perhaps to give heart-burn) and the sign with a smiling burger and samosa and chicken drumstick telling that "Khana" will now come "at your doorstep" (for a price we assume).

How different from the India that we see when the bus finally manages to escape the peri-urban sprawl of Jabbalpur.

It is this India that the Lakhnadon Christian Hospital serves.  It is these people who the doctors and nurses have left their home towns for.  As a member of the Emmanuel Hospital Association, the Lakhnadon Christian Hospital seeks to be a fellowship for transformation through caring.  The hospital is an expression of the love of Jesus Christ - and has been doing so through the many challenges that come for living out God's love in a challenging place.

And how is this living out of the love of Jesus doing?

Well, the short answer is that it is a hard slog.

The hospital lies on 4 acres of land and is largely known for its extensive community health and development work - a project that a single funder has been supporting to work in over 200 villages.  But as is the way of projects - the main funder is pulling out and so the programme is being drastically downsized with the intent of restarting in a more modest and more integrated manner.

A cheery groundsman that I met had the task of banging the hospital bell each hour to tell the time.

Each hour the bell tolls the requisite times - getting the team in sync.

For whom do the bells toll?

Well, with such a smiling toller - I would be happy if they told for me.



But let us look at the bigger picture.

What we have at Lakhnadon is an example of love in action.

The hospital itself is has a bed strength of 30 and is running with the sweat and tears of the staff.

Sheba was highly impressed by the competence, care and vision of the nursing superintendent who did amazing job assisting Dr. Chering in the theatre.

How many patients actually come to Lakhandon Christian Hospital?  Not enough in one way.  The hospital is self-supporting and could do with at least 2 times as many.  But the ones that do come are very tough cases.  People whom other hospitals have already seen and are discharged worse off than before ... and who then make their way over to the 'mission hospital.'

I have huge respect to Chering and the team for what they are able to do.


We are in an age where on one hand the medical services are burgeoning - with various folks hanging up their shingles.   Chering told how a neighbouring private nursing home was raided by the government and shut down - since the surgeon was a govt. employee and running the place on the sly.

There is money to be made off the sick. Lots of it.  But the flip side is that doctors (at least flashy ones) are the target of kidnapping rings (in Bihar and Eastern UP at least).  And if a patient passes away, then there is often the threat of violence as the dead person's relatives and other hangers on decide to vent their fury at the treating doctors.  It is it any wonder that EHA finds it so hard to get doctors for their 20 odd hospitals across N. and N.E. India?

So a huge 'hats off' to Dr. Chering (below in yellow) and her colleagues who are serving at Lakhnadon Christian Hospital.  I was there only for 2 days, and despite the place not being crowded - I could see the work that they were putting in.  Folks come in and they are not coming to have a chat - they are sick or bringing the sick.

Chering is currently assisted by Dr. Max - a Delhi man and recent graduate from the CMC Ludhiana - and Dr. Aji who is a dentist from Jabalpur.

It was sobering to see the weight of running the hospital on her.  As with many such places - the challenge of seeing that all the staff get their salaries each month is huge.

The community on the hospital itself is small - and is mirrored in the little church in town.  I arrived halfway through the Sunday service, and found out afterwards that the majority of the members were either current or retired hosptial staff or their family members.  One of the challenges that every church faces (at least all the ones that I have been part of) is to see that it is not just made up of 'one kind of people.'  Birds of a feather do flock together, but we need to be experiencing the love and freedom of Christ and be seeing a bringing together of people who were previously not worshipping in one accord.


It was good that Asha and Jemima had this opportunity.

A chance to see life in a very different place to urban Thane and Mumbai.

A time to make friends with others.

A bit of spreading their wings to help out in what ever way they could.

They certainly left something behind when it was time to go...  a bit of art in the wards - 6 posters that the girls had worked on...  such as this one:

And so it was suddenly time to go.   I had managed to read The Savage: My Kinsman by Elisabeth Elliot on the way in - and was further challenged by a slim book about The Cambridge Seven by John Pollock.  The basic question remains about what is 'mission' about a 'mission hospital' or anything that we do for that matter.  The basic answer is that 'mission' is about living a life in love and devotion to the Lord Jesus Christ - and doing so intentionally so as to reveal Him in word and deed.

Elizabeth  Elliot finds herself musing at the end of her year of living along with her 2 year old daugther with the tribal people who had killed her husband and 4 others - and realises that she really has very little to offer these people - and that they also seem hardly interested in her.  She writes that she found herself in the position of a servant - largely dependent on her hosts and often humiliated.   How much rather would she be a 'benefactor' - but she really had nothing to give - other than Jesus - one whom both she as a missionary needed just as desperately as the folks she was living out her life with.

We trust that Asha and Jemima will have seen some of this in the life of Chering and the others who are toiling at Lakhnadon Christian Hospital.  In the small group of doctors and nurses who meet at Chering's home for mutual encouragement, Bible study and prayer on Sunday evenings.  In the way church members ministered to the children during the Vacation Bible School.  In the conversations that they had with 'Auntie Chering.'  In the friendships that they made with other children on the campus.

So it was with some reluctance that the girls packed up and headed home.

They had become very much part of Chering's household - going out to the market to buy food, cooking, discussing, observing, making endless glasses of orange squash and of course reading!

Asha and Jemima still had a task to do. They had gone to the market to get some chocolate for their little friends.  They had missed out meeting one of them, and so Chering took them across the campus to meet the tiny tot.


Then it was time to say good bye to the grown-ups.   A quick prayer and some hugs...

 

And then in a jeep to Jabbalpur.  2.5 hours and on to the train with 25 mins to spare.  Thank God no traffic jams on the way.  But this gift of a sunset as we headed towards Thane...