Pilgrim posts: Visiting Tortoise-Town

Our family journey continues…  I had dropped off Asha in Delhi in the last week of May where she joined her cousin Joanna for a flight to Vishakaptnam – where our 2 young ladies were met by Joanna’s parents Victor and Sarah and whisked off to the Asha Kiran Hospital in southern Odisha where Victor and Sarah have been for the past year.  The story carries on with the mini-family of Sheba and myself.

And so the day finally came.  31^st of May.  Our last day in Lalitpur as part of the HBM Hospital family.  We had told our leadership in late March that it would be leaving on that day.  And we did.

The previous weeks were a blur of packing. Box after box filled up.  Where did all this come from?  Some stuff was culled to be given or sent for recycling.  But so much, especially our beloved books remained.  In the final week we shifted the 116 boxes and various other household furniture to Sister Leela’s home.  And yet even on the very last day there was packing.

When 7 PM on the 31st rolled around we stuffed the last lingering items into a small fleet of suitcases.  Till the last minute.  Some Eicher traits never change.

And so our farewell was fairly short.  Our dear friends from the HBM Hospital family gathered.  Handshakes and hugs.  A prayer and we were in the hospital vehicle with Bharat Singh, driving to Jhansi.  

We left Bethel Villa, our wonderful home where so much had happened, including Dad’s final minutes of this life, and were driving in the darkness with the open road ahead of us.

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Needless to say, we were pretty shattered.  Physically tired.  Ditto emotionally. Spiritually?

The berths of the Bundelkhand Express that Sheba and I rolled into late that night were very welcome.  An uneventful night got us on time to Varanasi station.  Well, the ‘online app’ said that we had arrived.  Actually the train stopped a kilometer ahead of the blessed place.  An did not move for an hour.  Finally it began to empty as people couldn’t stand the heat anymore, preferring to walk along the tracks.  I walked through the length of the train looking for a ticket collector to.  None to be found.  Maybe a TC-specific rapture took place?

Finally, the train creaks to life and covers the final few 100 meters and then stops.  Our bogie is far from the platfrom, but by walking through 6 or 7 bogies we get to one which touches the kerb and we are able to alight.  Welcome to Varanasi on a summer noon!

We are met at the entrance by Aman from the Kachhwa Christian Hospital and whisked away to the small town of Kachhwa in the KCH vehicle.

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Kachhwa is a small town in the Mirzapur district.  Kachhwa means ‘tortoise’ in Hindi and some would say that the pace of change of the town mirrors its noble reptilian name-sake.

The Kacchwa Christian Hospital lies smack in the middle this town in a leafy campus that reeks history.  One of its hoary buildings had at one time served as an indigo factory in colonial times, and since it was established as a hospital in 1887 (probably the oldest hospital in the EHA family), the KCH has seen generations of sacrificial medical and community health service.  Like many such institutions, KCH has seen its ups and downs.  At one point, with the legendary surgeon Dr. Everard in full flow, the Kachhwa Christian Hospital was considered the best surgical centre between Delhi and Calcutta.   When I visited KCH a number of times in the late 1990s it was on the verge of being shut down as patients had long since sought other places for treatment, despite having an A-list medical/surgical team posted there.

The recent decades have seen KCH develop into a beautiful place thanks to a new generation of remarkable folks.  This is not the place to go into all the details, but Dr. Raju and Katherine Abraham’s decision to pour their hearts into KCH has not gone in vain.  The hospital is physically small but currently thriving as people come for the treatment that they trust.  The varied community engagement activities and local wholeistic leadership development has seen much blessing take place.

There are not many mission hospitals who have a pond next to them.  Patients and relatives watch ducks swim around.  I could not help thinking of the pool of Bethesda in the Jerusalem of Jesus’ day when people came to the pool in the hopes of being healed.

Healing is a life-time process, and though we had not set out with this as our goal, our current pilgrim journey has to include refreshing, renewal and redemption.  We arrived pretty shattered and it was good not to have a large list of ‘things-to-do’ in front of us.

Instead we were welcomed by our dear, dear friend Dr. Chering Tenzing.  Chering did her DNB in medicine from the Christian Fellowship Hospital in Oddanchataram while Sheba was doing hers in family medicine.  We have been blessed over the years to visit Chering in various sites including Satbarwa in Jharkhand,  Herbertpur in Uttarakhand and Lakhnadon in Madhya Pradesh.   Our visit to see her in Kachhwa in eastern UP was long overdue. 

We were hosted by the Shankar and Blodwen family – and provided much joy by their lovely quartet of children.  And were thrilled to find out that our mentors Drs. Manoj and Manjula Jacob were also visiting KCH at the same time.

What blessings to be with people with love.  You never want to say good-bye.  It’s a deep internal pointer that we are meant for community.  Meant to be together and that this fellowship is intended forever.  As the old rousing hymn says: When we all get together, what a day of rejoicing that will be, when we all meet Jesus, we’ll sing and shout the victory.

Chering is a multi-tasker.  All the while we were with her, she was running the ICU, leading her three medical officers and the nursing team.  She is a wonderful writer (you can see some of her heart at “What Gives”) and has recently taken to visual art as well with her home decorated with a slew of her creations.  In the midst of all her busyness and the inter-twined conversations with use, Chering found time and energy to make a delicious meal of momos for all of us!

Shankar and Blodwen are other jewels.  An old head resting on young shoulders, Shankar currently is the leader of the hospital (“SAO” in EHA-speak) and is a wonderful model of what godly shepherding is like.  An MBA with a heart of compassion, we were thrilled to hear of the amazing stories of grace which are taking place through the KCH family.  

One of them is of an old woman who was found lying semi-conscious and encrusted in her own filth by the side of the road, and whom Shankar brought back to KCH.  Over the weeks of care at KCH she gained strength and her senses.  She did not speak Hindi, and the team realised that she was trying to communicate in Gujarati.  She eventually was able to say which town she was from.  Shankar went onto Facebook and joined a group from that town and put out the news of her being in UP (over 1500 kms away).   Someone finally responded and checked the local police station there and found a missing persons report for an old lady over 4 months previously.  What a joy to restore this old woman to her son.  The miracle of being reunited stemming from the love and prayers and loving service she received at KCH.

Sheba and I were deeply privileged to be adopted into the Shankar Blodwen family.  And what a family it is.  They are blessed with four children – a lovely daughter Prarthana (prayer), and three lively sons in Vishwas (faith), Arpan (dedication) and the newest member Jeevan (life).  What a joy to have these lovelies swarm all over us.  As almost-empty-nesters it was a treat to see 4 packets of life discovering the world… and the Word.

Shankar and Blodwen are living life king-sized for the King of Kings.  Their first area of building the Kingdom is in their kids and we were blessed to see the results already blossoming in these lovely ones.  We were pumped for advice about parenting and other avenues of grace by our hosts, and can only say that we are so impressed by their intentional lives and the way that they are building up  the next gen.

I was taken back to my childhood as I saw a house full of books, board games, a bird being nursed back to health, daddy-reading-to-kids, an intentionally simple lifestyle, caring and consistent disciplining, each room brightened up with Blodwen’s art… the list of blessings goes on and on.  Shankar and Blodwen have written some of their experiences in a blog (Firm Foundations) and are fabulous conversationalists.  Their intentional choices made are wonderful example for us all to follow.

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Being very much in recovery we did not do much ‘work’ – but it was a privilege to share in the morning devotions on the reality of Jesus’ love even when it doesn’t always seem that way (the Lazarus story).   Sheba accompanied Chering on rounds and did some counselling with patients.  The ICU deals with snake-bite cases, and self-harm.  Sheba was privileged to have one of the ladies saved from self-poisoning open up her heart to Sheba.

It was a blessing for me to spend a morning with the community engagement team.  Working in a 1.5 lakh population block, the KCH Community Health and Development Team is lead by Dr. Rubel who has been trained (among other things) in community dentistry.

I vividly remember meeting Mr. Bal Bahadur back in 1998 and along with Dr. Santosh Mathew broaching the thought with him about starting up community health work at KCH.  Bal Bahadur was a OT nurse at that time, and after prayer agreed to step into this field.  My brother Stefan joined a few months later and they doggedly set up some amazing village transformation work, building a core team and then seeing it flourish.

The current team works in three broad areas – reaching out to people with disabilities (there are over 3000 known cases in the 1.5 lakh target population), controlling tuberculosis, and providing palliative care services.  

I was staggered to find out that Rajini, the community health nurse had attended an HIV ministry conference we had organised in 2005 in Mumbai, and had used what she learned over the years in this place.

Each member of the team is clearly the salt-of-the-earth.   Community work is hard and usually little appreciated by most hospital staff (and many hospitals’ leadership too).  Our dear friends are meeting with those who are broken, and are giving them life and hope for change.  So much still to be done, but we can see how much God can use people who are willing to be used.

Sheba and I were also blessed to have a session with the nurses.  Working as a nurse in a mission hospital is not easy.  Patients can be very demanding and relatives even more so.  People who have been oppressed aren’t necessarily angels.  Much of the human brokenness surfaces in times of stress and sorrow.  No one comes to a hospital for a holiday.  It is not surprising that one of the coping mechanisms nurses use to stay in control of hard situations is to shout at patients and relatives.  Especially if they have been shouted at.  Sadly this can become the norm as day after day new waves of patients and distressed relatives come for treatment. 

The antidote? One small step is to meet with nurses and remind them of just how very special they are.  It was lovely to hear from the nurses about what brought them joy and see a wide set of impacts that they have.  So often the nurses’ contributions are hidden by the credit which usually flows to the doctors for successful treatments, or is not seen because of patient relative conflict issues.  We reminded the nurses about what God says about them in the word – and how much at odds this is with the messages they get from the world – from their patients, from their colleagues and even at times from their leaders and family members.

A few years ago we learned a powerful illustration which we used with our dear KCH nurses. We took a brand new Rs. 500 note and showed it to our nursing friends.  Then we crumpled it up and threw it on the floor and said that it was garbage and needed to be thrown away.  The question is whether it still is a Rs.500 note and whether it still has value?  The answer for the note is easy.  All it needs is to be picked up, smoothed out a bit and put back into our wallet or purse.  For human lives, however, the process is not so easy.  When we are broken and despairing we so often are blind to all that God wants us to be, and the beautiful embrace of His love for us.

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Our visit to the saints at Kachhwa Christian Hospital was the first stop of Sheba and my new pilgrim wanderings.  What a blessing to be with so many amazing people.We got to taste a bit of the glory of what is happening among those so many see as insignificant, but whom our loving Lord Jesus sees as so amazingly precious that He left His glory to become one of us, and offers us His love and power despite seeing our own limitations so clearly.

Sheba and I had big smiles on our faces during those precious days.  We are wanderers, but we were at home.

Pilgrim Posts: An Ashram at the Heart of India

We as a family are on a pilgrimage, but even before we left our beloved Lalitpur at the end of May, I had been visiting a few places on behalf of Sheba and myself.  Here are a few glimpses of another one of these journeys.  This trip was a two day visit in the middle of May 2019.

Booking on-line tickets is amazing.  My father used to stand hours in line to book our annual holiday tickets from Bombay to Madras Egmore station and then on by meter gauge to Kodai Road.  Today some thrifty internet use and a handy debit card can do wonders.  And even if your ticket is wait-listed, the different sites have predictions about whether it will ‘clear’ when the final charts are made.

One of our near-and-dear had strongly suggested visiting the Christa Panthi Ashram in Sihora, Madhya Pradesh as part of our pilgrim wanderings – and since it was not even close to our already fairly eccentric plan for our post-HBM Hospital wanderings – I decided to again go on behalf of both of us to meet and pray with the saints there.

The good folks on the ticket prediction sites said that I had something like 72% chance of having my waitlisted berth cleared, so I went to Lalitpur station for my night train fairly certain I would get a sleeper berth. 

Well, for the Sihora trip I was in the 25%.  No confirmation and so into the general compartment I went.  I can’t remember the last time I did this (and then again, I don’t remember ma ny, many things).  The first 45 mins were spent standing, then I got a tiny place to sit straddling the two luggage racks above my fellow passengers.  I was very glad for my back brace and for a splendid book: George Macdonald’s The Curate’s Awakening. A hot night was spent off in Victorian England as God worked His way in and through broken souls and our train trundled through the warm air of a summer night in Central India.

The Christa Panthi Ashram was started when in 1942 three young men from Kerala were sent off with the blessings of the Malankara Marthoma Church to start a new life.  The founding trio were inspired to serve people in North India in the name of Jesus and a fresh living-out of the age-old idea of the Ashram.  Ashrams big and small have been intentional faith-communities across our land, and have usually been linked with one of the many streams of Hindu faith.  Building on the ideas and lives of Christ-followers in India such as Sadhu Sundar Singh and E. Stanley Jones, the three founders set out not knowing where they would end up.  In God’s providence they arrived in the tiny town of Sihora in Central India and founded the Christa Panthi Ashram community of Christ-honouring faith and service to all the villages around them.

The Ashram today is housed in a sprawling 25 acres of land and the Achhans and Sisters who have chosen to join the core community are involved in an active monastic life of prayer, work and reflection which has overflowed in many forms of service.  You name it hueas been done – and much continues to be carried out:  educational work through village pre-primary centres, primary schools and a large English medium high school; health work through a clinic (which previously was a thriving hospital) and new initiatives to reach out to villages around them; agriculture and horticulture through fields and orchards; animal husbandry through goateries, chicken raising and a dairy farm; helping village children with education through boys and girls hostels; an old age home for destitutes and on and on.

The years of faithful service have borne fruit – many lives have been touched and both people on the street and those in authority know and respect the work that the Achhans (usually wearing an off-saffron kurta) and the Sisters do. 

The land around the Ashram is dry and rain-fed, with most farmers cultivating small plots of land and migrating seasonally since there is not enough for them to survive on.  The difference between Sihora and Lalitpur?  My short visit showed me more evidence of granite mining in Sihora – extractive work for which the Jabalpur district is well-known for - and a much higher percentage of tribals (belonging to Gond and other indigenous but largely impoverished groups) than we had in Lalitpur.

It was a real joy meeting with Roshin who recently joined to help reboot the medical and community health work of the Ashram.  Roshin has both extensive theological training as well as sklls and experience in community transformation work.  He loves being out in the villages and made sure I was well protected for our field visits in the oven that central India is in May!

Some of my take-aways after this visit:

Deep respect for the Achhans and Sisters who are living a simple no-possessions life.  They know they will be buried in the Ashram cemetary along with those who have gone ahead of them.  The line of tombstones is a sobering reminder to all of us about how fleetining our life-times are and how much of eternity stretches ahead of us.  A life of prayer is not a wasted life.  A life of living faith 

intentionally with others can have massive impacts.  Spiritual formation is in such short supply in our 2=minute-maggi-noodle world.  The unforced rhythms of the Ashram and the choice to have “thy will be done” (both allowing God to control and also yielding to each other) have much to teach all of us.  We are all in intentional communities of our own making – our homes and friends reflect much of the decisions we are making individually and corporately.

Hope about the possibilities that the Ashram has to provide long-term change to the communities around them.  Having taken a step of bringing in a non-Achhan to serve as a manager with them, it opens up new opportunities and adds the fretshness of a person who has also experienced life and served in other part of the country.   The tremendous rapport and trust that the Ashram enjoys with the local communities is so precious.  Much stlll needs to be done in the communities around and the Ashram has the potential to see a new generation experience transformation.

Belief in the power of persistence.  Where people have stayed for long, change can be seen.  The network of village level learning centres is testmony to this.  Change can’t take place by remote control.  Lives must be invested.  Jesus reminds us of when he tells us to seek first the Kingdom and its righteousness.   How many of us have been blessed by the presence and investments of others in us. To whom much is given, much is expected of. Money can help, but lives and changed by other lives.

Questions about the nature of institutions over time.  How to keep being relevant and fresh, while at the same time celebrating the amazing things done by our fore-fathers (and fore-mothers too!).  How can wonderful people keep being wonderful, and draw more and new people in?  How much structure  is needed?  Where to allow change, where to hold on to what has been handed down?

The trip back to Lalitpur was blessedly uneventfuil.  Having done many, many trains trips in these month, I am so grateful for the great network of stexel that spans so much of our country and allows us to move from here to there and then beyond so quickly and so cheaply [these words are being written while on a train, travelling from Vishakapatnam to Chennai on the Coromandel express].

Onwards!

Pilgrim posts: A trip up to the Nepal border

We as a family are on a pilgrimage, and even before we left our beloved Lalitpur at the end of May, I had been visiting a few places on behalf of Sheba and myself.  Here are a few glimpses of one of these journeys.  This trip took place in mid-April...

Jhansi railway station would not normally be a place for me to spend a night, but my wait-listed ticket for Lucknow did not get confirmed.  So I hopped on Sheba’s train to Delhi (she was going for her last spurt of classes and then the final exam of her ultra-sound training) and got off an hour and a half later at Jhansi.  I slept a few hours in a retiring room at Jhansi station and then got the early morning train for Lucknow since I was to meet my dear friend Christian and drive up to Rupaidia with him later in the day.

We had blessedly good rains this year in our part of Bundelkhand (thanks to many prayers) and it was lovely to see harvested fields.  I was reminded of our Lord telling His disciples that the fields are ripe for harvest, and that they should pray to the Lord of the harvest to send more workers.

Lucknow is an old seat of power, and added to its crumbling ancient piles, there are also the trappings of a modern Indian city with the prestige item of having a metro.  Super convenient for me as I was able to walk out of the railway station, onto a metro and was then whisked to the airport to meet the incoming Christian.  I did note, however, that there were very few fellow travelers.  Perhaps the line doesn’t connect enough key places in Lucknow yet.

After a quick lunch I was off being driven North with my old friend Christian (engineer, lecturer,  entrepreneur and all-round nice guy) and my new friend Anand (who helps manage the Prem Seva work).  We were headed due north to the border town of Rupaidia where Christian’s in-laws had served for many years, the work which Anand and his wife Anne have bravely taken up.

A long road trip demands at least one stop for “Special Chai” and the place we halted at did. not disappoint.

Prem Sewa boys home is a hostel for boys who need some extra inputs in life.  Started 50 years ago, the home has helped scores of young lads blossom into young men, especially boys whose parents were struggling with the pain of social scorn due to having Hansens disease (commonly called leprosy).  Over the years the special love these boys have received has seen so many develop into men of honour.  The legacy continues with the current cohort of 25.

Needless to say, the boys love football, and having a big spacious compound to live in with its own football field is a boon.

Besides plenty of space for their dormitories, the boys are bathed in green and everyone pitches in to grow healthy veggies and fruit.  For city slickers, this is a sight for sore eyes.

The other amazing work that Christian’s in-laws pioneered was the Prem Sewa clinic. 

Step outside the Boys Home gate and cross the broad road which is the main highway between India and Nepal.  The clinic is on the other side.  You literally can’t get any closer to Nepal than this – the main welcome gate is less than 20 meters from the PS clinic.

The Indo-Nepal border is pretty hassle free for Indian and Nepali residents (Mr. Trump, are you listening?).  People walk across from both sides, and the clinic being right on the border caters to sick folks from both countries.  Prem Seva means ‘Love Service’ and love is what draws the steady stream of patients who come for cost-effective lovingly provided medical care. 

And stream the patients do.  Though the clinic does not provide in-patient care (mainly referring to nursing homes in Nepalganj (obviously on the Nepal side), about 150 to 200 patients are seen each day.  Having their own laboratory and pharmacy helps of course, but the real draw is good care, provided faithfully at low prices in a pretty rough border town deep in the boon-docks.

A big salute to this amazing team who are carrying the legacy of care forward!

A very special part of my visit was celebrating Resurrection Day with the staff and boys in a sunrise service.  As the red disk slowly dawned on a summer day, we were on a roof singing praises and listening to the seemingly unbelievably good news of our Master’s conquering death with His bodily resurrection from the dead. 

His first disciples had a hard to believing on the very day that death was broken.  It’s no surprise that the challenge of belief continues today.  But our speaker reminded us about how Jesus met with two disciples who were leaving Jerusalem sad and confused.  The speaker then shared about how God had helped his own mother through tragedy of losing her husband and a son and struggling with deep mental illnesses which required multiple hospitalisations.  But how Jesus had personally helped the speaker in those confusing days, and had helped his mother too.  What hope we have amidst all our brokenness!

I left Rupaidia as a pilgrim does.  Deeply moved by what I had seen in the service being carried out.  I was so thankful to have been able make new friends and see the destiny shaping work being carried out.  I am humbled by a legacy of service being taken forward by these dear ones.

My taxi driver on the way back to Lucknow station regaled me with tales about how rough a border-place Rupaidia is.   The magnificent Lucknow station took me in and gave me a place on the platform  on a hot muggy night to wait for my long-delayed train back to Lalitpur.

Tempus fugit.  Soli Deo gloria.

This pilgrim life…

Our life journey continues…

In late 2015 Sheba and I were led to step away from 12 years of community in the city of Thane, Maharashtra where we had been serving with people living with HIV/AIDS.  We were delighted to see so many lives changed, and humbled to witness eternity enriched and local churches welcoming people with HIV into their families. 

Ever since we moved to the Mumbai area in 2001, we would take time to pray and reconsider at roughly 3-4 year cycles.  Over the previous dozen years in Thane, each such exercise gave us the same basic message: be faithful, stay put, carry on.  But this time around a specific verse spoke to us: “blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage” [Psalm 84.5].  We knew it was time to move on.

Moving on meant uprooting and being replanted in Lalitpur in Uttar Pradesh – right in the centre of India and part of the drought-prone Bundelkhand region – 13 districts straddling northern Madhya Pradesh and south western Uttar Pradesh.  We were deeply privileged to serve with the HBM Hospital family.  These past 3.5 years were deeply challenging, and also a great blessing as we have seen God’s grace operating in so many ways, and are again aware of how much we need to be shaped more and more like Him.

At the end of March this year Sheba and I were privileged to spend some time together in prayer.  Our parent organisation had spelled out what their strategy for the HBM Hospital was going to be and we needed time to reflect and hear God’s words to us.  We read and prayed through “The Calvary Road” by Roy Hession and came away with a clear leading to move on.  We thus gave our notice to our leaders that we would be leaving come June 1^st of this year.  And we did.  We are currently wonderfully open to wherever God will have us next.  Deep breath. Blank canvas.  Big God.

It’s our year of Jubilee and we want to experience the Sabbath rest, the Shalom-presence of the Lover of our souls.  And so we are on a journey.  A continuation, a series of further stages in our pilgrimage.  We have 116 boxes of our things packed away in a friend’s home in Lalitpur, awaiting shipment to our next resting place.  Where they will go we still don’t know, but we have already had the deep joy of two and a half amazing weeks of travel and meeting so many precious people.

Will you join us in our journey?  In this blog (untouched for many a moon) we will be highlighting some of the amazing places where wonderful people have asked us to consider joining them in the remarkable work they are doing.  We know we can’t serve everywhere – and so are listening and learning – wanting to hear which is the yoke that our gentle-hearted, humble and kind Jesus has shaped for us (Mat. 11.28-29).  In the mean-time we are just blessed to be with folks who are the salt of the earth.   People doing destiny-shaping work, far from the razzle-dazzle spotlights which we (secretly at least) yearn for.  Just being with them is such a blessing.

The next 3 months will be truly pilgrim worthy.  We travel down to Chennai tomorrow to spend time with Appa and Sheba’s brother Peter and family.  Then I take Enoch back to boarding school in Mussoorie.  We hope to visit another potential site for serving, and need to meet the good folks at the US Embassy in early July.  Why you may ask?  Because our dear Asha is slated to start college at our beloved Taylor University in Fall.  Amazing grace that God has provided an unheard of combination of scholarships and a wonderful supporter family to cover her costs!

Sheba and I are hoping to join Asha on a US trip from the last week of July to early September.  Our current plan is to come in and out of Chicago.  Stops planned include a visit to Sheba’s sister and family in Arizona, friends in Colorado, more family and friends in Indiana before dropping off Asha for her orientation on August 20^th.  That leaves us with a final 3 weeks of jubilee and flying back to Bharat on Sept. 10^th during which time we also hope to meet up with my sister Premila

Let’s see how the cookie crumbles.

So please join us on our travels. We need your prayers and advice.  Any thoughts for our next steps are of course most welcomed.  And while we know we cannot meet all of the galaxy of amazing people who have loved us, we do hope to at least bump into a few of you on these journeys. 

It’s a wonderful life!

50

Today I complete a half-century.  In two days Sheba joins me at this milestone.

Add that together and we have a full 100 years between us.

Wow.  Amazing.  Grace.






50 is a good year.

In the Bible, we see that the people of Israel were told to observe the 7th day as a day of rest. And their land was to be left fallow on the 7th year - as a year of rest. And after 7 such years of rest had passed - the next year - the 50th was called the "Year of Jubilee." A year where all debts were cleared. When bond-servants were freed. When land that had been mortgaged was returned back to its original owners. A big reset button was pressed

50 is a good time to press that big button,

Sheba and I are also 20 years into our journey together.  And what a road we have already travelled since we started off together as a pair of 30 year-olds, a fortnight before the Millenium.

We began our becoming-one-life at a mission hospital in Jharkhand.  A year and a half later - with our baby Asha in tow - Sheba and I took a big step of faith.  We were convinced that God was telling us through His word to go to Mumbai and work with people living (and mainly at that time dying) with HIV.  Our initial 2 year term ended up being 14 years in Mumbai-Thane-land all told.  

Our Thane years were bookended by Enoch being born just after we shifted (Sheba saw HIV patints till the day before Enoch entered the world) and with our foster son Yohan spending the last 1.5 years with us there.  Rich years. Ones where we were deeply challenged by living and working with people with HIV, and seeing the miracles of lives being restored.  We were also deeply blessed to be grow as part of a group of house-churches.

And then in 2015 we had another call, to up-and-go back to the North, and to seek to be the fragrance of Christ in new areas.  This led us to rejoin EHA and pitch our tent in the very centre of India - and be part of the HBM Hospital and its attempts to live out Jesus' love in the amazing part of Bundelkhand that Lalitpur district is.

These last 3 years have rushed by in a whoosh!

Asha has just finished high-school and stands at edge of college.  She got admission at Taylor University in the US for fall 2019.  Will it be possible for her to attend there?  With God all things are possible, so we have a good opportunity to trust.  Or should she study here in Bharat?  Lots of questions.

Enoch has finished his class 10.  He and Asha are in Thailand for a month - hoping to help at the River Kwai Christian Hospital near the Myanmar border.  My amazing college mate Dr. Jen Tan and his lovely wife Liz and daughters have opened their home to our 2.  We are grateful for the lovely young man Enoch is becoming.

Yohan is being cared for at BTC in Badlapur, outside Mumbai.  We don't understand fully why the authorities did not allow him to come with us, but we have to accept many grey areas in life as we move forward on our pilgrimage.  Yohan's future is not clear to any of us, but we know that Jesus has Yohan in His hand.

Our time here at HBM Hospital as been one of great joys and wonderful experiences - as well as some of the deep challenges that are part of the rocky road we are called to walk along.

We are currently in the last two months of our time here at HBM Hospital and are actively listening to the Lord for guidance about our next steps.  We want to move forward with *Joy*.  We want to live out our lives to the fullest.  Each day is precious and having completed 50 sun-spins, we realise this more and more.

It's been said before, and we will say it again.  We don't know the future, but we know Who holds the future.

As Sheba and I step into this Jubilee year, we are on a journey of a lot of changes.

Looking back, we can only say "thank you Lord" for all the amazing things that He has done for us - and through us to some extent.   I was thinking last night about our many colleagues and friends who we have had the joy of serving with over these years - and who are doing some amazing things in very hard places.

At the same time I also have to say "I am sorry" as I look back.

Sorry for the many opportunities lost.  Sorry for my hard and proud heart.  Sorry for my laziness and self-centered way of drifting through large portions of these past years (yes I seem 'busy' but much of that is sham).  Sorry for people whom I have hurt by my actions - whether intentional or not being immaterial.

Sheba and I had a prayer retreat in Mussoorie at end of March and were deeply blessed by praying through "The Calvary Road" by Roy Hession (we read a 'simple English version' of it).  How vital it is for me to bring my cup to be filled to the Lord, every single day.  Revival is not a luxury.  It is and should be the normal way of life for the follower of Jesus.

So on my 50th B-day, in this Jubilee year, it is re-set time for me.  For us.

Time to step back and get the basics in place.  To enjoy the Lord.  To love deeply and from the heart.  To allow a fearless moral inventory and plead with the Holy Spirit to scrape out anything that is displeasing to Him.  To trust more and worry less.  To keep short accounts and ask forgiveness over and over again.

Today is a great day.  A day to be so very thankful.  Sheba and I are just so grateful for all who have invested in us so far - and all who are walking with us on this journey.  Especially in this year of Jubilee.

Blessed are all who fear the LORD, who walk in obedience to Him.   (Ps. 128.1)

Jesus said that if we love Him we will obey his commands.  Walking in obedience is not doing so out of fear that something terrible will happen if we don't, but rather a love-walk with our beautiful Lord.  Thank you for coming along with us on this journey.  5 decades are over.  How many more we don't know (Oma is 31 years ahead of us).  And then we will be translated and live in the heart-stopping glorious reality of forever!

What hope, what joy is ours!

Come away with me...

I carry tiredness in a little knot somewhere in my chest.  I carry tiredness behind my eyes, which at times blossoms into a headache.  I don't want to admit to it, but back in there somewhere, there is a constant dull inner throb which has been with me since..?  For a brace of decades at least... maybe longer?

Needless to say,  though I don't want to admit it (what me?) I am permanently tired.   I fall asleep at meetings (have done so since university days).  Constantly.  Unless I am speaking, and even then, there have been the occasional podium dozes too.

Scan through pictures of me over the last years, and you can often see those narrowed eyes of chronic tiredness...

So last week I had an experience of a life time.

A few months ago, the partner agency who is the major funder of our community development work sent an email saying I had been selected for a programme in early March.

There were few details about what this event was going to be, but I said I would be interested in going, and then shelved it away in my mind.

The intervening weeks have been rather strained for various reasons (maybe one day we will delve into some of them).  Cue early Feb, when some of my inner turbulence was peaking, and that 'shelved away' programme came to life.  I was told that the event was not going to be in cold Delhi as I had assumed, but that the eclectic group selected was been flown to... (deep breath) Goa.  

No way!

Sím Senhor!  (Portuguese via google translate)

And so I found myself pinching myself as I took the red-eye flight from New Delhi with the first of the eclectic bunch of fellow travellers... and a few hours later found myself looking at this:




Amazing.

Amazing Grace.

Five days of paradise.

The agenda?

Finding rest, building resilience, learning to accept deep, deep love of God to me.

Soul work.  Time for silence.  Time for talking.

And a whole lot of beauty.



I came with a lot of baggage.

Not the stuff that I physically carried to Goa (it  all fit in a purple day pack).  But the inner bits  being lugged around.

At onset I charted out what I hoped to get:

Personally - a renewed delight in Jesus.  A true sense of Him as my portion.  Something deeper and fresher than the last few years.  Further up and further in.

Family - a sharp ear to hear what God is saying to us about our next steps.  Totally crucial at this time.  A huge responsibility as we hinge on multiple potential changes.

Work / Ministry / Call  - a rediscovery of the pearl of great price.  The ludicrously amazing core of what we are looking to do, the thing that fills with joy to the extent that everything else can be stripped away, sold, disposed of, with the deep-rooted assurance that what is to come will brilliantly outshine whatever has gone before.

And so began the week in paradise.

I was not alone.

A small eclectic band of eclectic fellow-travellers were there too.  I knew 7 of my 11 fellow participants from the criss-crossing of our lives.  But here was an opportunity to go deeper.

And we did.  Talks and prayers.  Walks and conversations.

Early morning swims in the embrace of the Arabian Sea.

Late night heart-to-hearts.

Prayer alone and together.

Early on I had to face the big G question

Guilt at 'having it so good' while.... 

my dear Sheba is far away in the cold of a mountain winter ... 

my colleagues are sweating it out in Lalitpur trying to get the annual community-based organisation meeting together before Modi announces his election dates...

the sheer incongruity of a bunch of change-agents who work with the poorest and most marginalised, are being pampered in the luxury that the 1% wrap themselves in...

I don't believe in riches, but you should see where I live...  (said ye olde U2 chappies many a moon ago)

I don't think there is ever a fully satisfying answer to the big G question this side of the New Jerusalem.

Things are so shabby for so many.  Yes we are trying to change lives, to be with the poor... but every single day I retire to my beautiful home, and eat my healthy food (with left-overs that sometimes get binned), and have the massive creature-comforts (such as this computer I am tapping away on).

And so there in Goa the question wrestled with my conscience - can I enjoy all this when...

I think that the pricks have to continue - but I realised something too: I was and am a recipient of grace.

No matter what I do, how hard I try, I don't deserve to be in Goa.  Why me?  I don't know.  Really

But I also know that the best response to love and beauty is gratitude.  Acceptance.  Rejoicing.

I don't want to go through life po-faced.  I want to accept the love that as been poured out to me, to us as a family, to the broader body...

And so plunging in and saying a big THANK YOU to God and all His beloved children who were and continue to minister to me is the best response to so much goodness.

I take away a deep gratitude for being loved.  Of realising that we were taylor-made for work and worship and rest.  And receiving and revelling in love.

The G question will continue to nag, and I welcome the tension and necessity And want to give this sabbath-gift to others.

Taste and see...



Jesus knew a thing about operating in the crucible.  And yet He also took time apart.  Early mornings of solitude with Father.  Nights of prayer.  A night garden used so often as a place of prayer and worship with his disciples that the betrayer knew exactly where to bring a darkness-roaming goonda-mob.

And yet we know that our Lord experienced exhaustion too.  Mark records that He was sleeping on a pillow on a storm-tossed boat.  There were times when work crowded in so much that He and His followers did not have enough time to eat.  We see a man of sorrows, acquainted with griefs.  A man who truthfully told someone that He did not have a place to lay His head.

Which is why He told His followers: "come away with me..."

Rest is not just running away from the challenges.  It is not a coping mechanism where you flee from the hard bits that life throws your way.  One of the themes we explored was resilience.

We go through hard knocks.  Lots of them.

One of the exercises we did was map out our lives.  We rolled a long strip of paper starting in 1955 and taking us through to 2019.  And on it we stuck our life mile-stones.  The big events.  The happy events that fill us with warmth when we look back at them.  And the times that were rough.

It was sobering to see our lives rolled out - charted along an axis.  And to see that some of our big life events took place before others were born.  To see that our days are shared with others too.  That the 'red boxes' of our hard times are also echoed by red boxes that others have gone through too.

The 1955 was the year that the oldest person in the room was born.  I realised that my parents years have now slipped into the past.  1937 and 1941 have come and gone.  My 1969 was now one of the older ones, and the late 1970s and early 1980s heavily populated.

Time's arrows quest forward.

And one of the core competences of our lives is being able to work through the desert times. Through days that are dark.  Through nights that are long.   Scripture says that tears may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

But how to keep going when there is darkness at noon?

Some of the most joyful people I know have also seen the depths of despair, but amazingly are still standing. In fact they are thriving.   

One thing that I am realising is that many of my mountains, are actually more like mole-hills.  But that doesn't make my experience just a silly waste of time.  It's more a question of needing to gain a better perspective on the terrain of the soul, and the journey-path that we are wandering along.

What better way than to have others walk along with you.

These days offered some of that.  But also allowed me to look back and be so thankful for those who we have talked to over the phone over the last few months.  For their prayers with us late at nights.  For love received.  

I am particularly grateful for the brave and generous woman Sheba is.  And how much she has helped point me in the right direction.  Over and over again.

The ultimate need of every soul is the Lord Himself.  He spoke these words to Moses, many millenia ago, but they ring out to us today with a freshness...

One of my desires is not to walk alone.  For us to experience again the new overflowing presence of the Lord Himself.

To experience His love in a fresh way.

To be imitators of God as dearly-loved children.  For all the faults that I have seen and know about my parents, I do want to be like them.  Because I have experienced their love.

Life is too short for bitterness.

I carry some wounds still with me, and healing is certainly a process.  But I am so grateful for the amazing grace that has washed into me over the past 3 weeks.

The Goa time with God in solitude and in with fellow strugglers was such a blessing.

I told the main organiser that I sensed that it was as if the whole programme was made just for me - and that the other 11 were receiving collateral blessings!

Obviously each other person was full-brim-overflowing blessed.

And so here I am back in Lalitpur for a bit longer at least.

Sheba and I are in a season of prayer where we seek to hear afresh guidance - as we have heard in past years.  We seek the pearl of great price and are willing to do whatever it takes to live out such a joy-filled life.

The Goa days are a precious gift for me, and I bear the rest within me.  I seek to share the precious lessons learned with my family and others and bear Shalom and rest to them too.

The end of each day marks the beginning of the next.

On the last day we wrote down what we were taking back with us.  

Our facilitator for the session invited us to place all the 5 different small paper slips on our open palms.  And then asked us to blow hard.

A small snow-storm of paper ensued as everyone's resolution papers were blown to the ground.

"You will be stepping back into storms" he said.

What we had written in our 5 day retreat was clearly going to be rattled and shaken by the hard knocks of life.

Then our facilitator gave each of us a big paper clip.  And invited us to pick up the fallen pieces of paper and secure our 5 decisions in the clip.

"God knows what will take place" our facilitator told us.  "He is bigger than the situation, and is a firm fortress for us and our dreams."   

"Put the clip and papers on your hand - and now try and blow hard.  What happens to your papers?" he asked.

The papers rustled in our blowing, but the clip anchored them and they did not fall off our hands.

"When you are back in your places of ministry, remember that God has gone before you.  He is around you and is holding on to your dreams.  He knows the storms that are ahead and is with you in the boat."

I have this little clip of resolutions on my table next to me and a heart full of gratitude for such a beautiful gift to me.

Sheba and I look forward to living this year as a jubilee year, one where the sabbath joy of Shalom is deeply experienced by us and shared with those we are walking alongside!