Spies

As a child of the cold war - with a mother who left the 'workers paradise' of the 'German Democratic Republic' - I have had my taste for all things spy.

Not for me the pure pulp of Ludlum or Fleming - I was more drawn to the greys that you find in John LeCarre and of course the master himself - his one-time-spyness Graham Greene. Layer over this what I read in Intrepid - the book about William Stephenson and the Allied intelligence network. It took my breath away to read about how the Allied intelligence took on the Nazi espionage apparatus. More so because the book recounted both the technical brilliance of breaking the enigma code - as well as told heart-breaking stories of allied spies being parachuted into Vichy France - often with an almost sure death sentence awaiting them.

Growing up in Bombay we were members of a posh swimming pool where many diplomats and their families came. We knew roughly who was who - based on the vehicles that they came in. The Eastern Europeans stayed mostly to themselves. I must admit I was especially interested in East Germans who had their own school - and always moved around in groups. Many (most) of these Eastern Europeans (the parents at least) will have had some links with the intelligence agencies of their countries. A person growing up in East Germany for instance - was almost always on some level of surveillance by the Ministerium für Staatssicherheit - East Germany's internal intelligence agency best known by its German nickname the Stasi.

With the fall of the Berlin wall - and the general unravelling of the Leninism around the world - one would think that the old cold war hacks would be out of business.

Did my ears ever prick up when news filtered out that 10 'sleepers' had been found in the US - living lives as ordinary Americans - replete with names like 'Vicky Palaez' and 'Richard Murphy' - and one of them even attending the JFK School of Governance at Harvard. The joy of it all - real life spies! High tech gadgets! Code names and keys! Steganography!

But after the first blush of news, the further details seem distinctly underwhelming - an unravelling of the sheer mundanity of their lives. Most of what they did was just totally drab. Getting a job. Moving ahead while keeping their cover. Raising a family. Keeping up with old course-mates. Trying to meet 'important people.' The amount of information that the 'spies' were able to pass on to their handlers seems to have been so meagre that the US authorities are not even able to accuse them of being spies despite tracking them for years now. They are apparently being charged for 'not registering as agents of a foreign government.'

And it gets even more absurd (if the reports are true of course). The dears apparently caused their handlers not a little irritation. One couple was fixed on buying a house. So as to blend in better of course. Their handlers were not amused. It seems they were wondering if their spies were putting down their roots for good.

Now lets step back just a little bit from what seems to be more of a farce than the stuff of a thriller - or even a good tragedy.

How does my life stack up against these Russian agents?

They had a purpose for which they were sent. They seem to have muddled through it. They are now 'caught' and the evidence of what they have done is being weighed in against them.

Given the very sad condition of so much of the world around me - and taking a long hard look at my life - where would I stand if the content of my life were put to public scrutiny? What real changes have I been able to see take place in me - and in people around me? What is the legacy that I leave my children - and the different people that I have met across the 41 and running years that God has graciously given me so far?

The Bible paints a picture of a final reckoning. A day when we all will stand before our Maker and give accounts of their lives. I have many things that I am ashamed about, many sad twisted secrets that I would never want others to hear or see. But I also have the confidence that my Redeemer lives. Coming to Him with my brokenness and the massive short-fall in my life of that which is good - I know that He embraced me and took away the sting of all that was wrong in me - because He took the punishment on Himself on that hideous cross almost 2 millennia ago. And what is more - He rose to give life - real life - forever.

I am also grateful that a decade ago the Lord brought Sheba into my life - to help and spur me on to things that are good and right. We still have many jagged edges - and there are still things that are not what they should be. Looking back on the past decade with Sheba, however, I am so grateful for the real changes that I do see - as well as for a growing hunger in me to be more like my Lord Jesus Christ. As for the fruitfulness of my life? Despite being more of the bumbler than the victor - I can say with confidence that God has done far more than I could have imagined a decade or two ago.

This is what I read this morning:

Sow for yourselves righteousness,
reap the fruit of unfailing love,
and break up your unplowed ground;
for it is time to seek the LORD,
until he comes
and showers righteousness on you. Hosea 10.12

Its my prayer for today. For myself. And for you gentle reader. Amen.

Telling

She stood in the room and told her story. Her voice was barely a whisper. Others encouraged her to speak.

She was small and dark. Thin. Above her right eye was a big swelling.

She spoke about how she had been sick for so long. And how she had been so sad but had been helped by ladies from a church fellowship that she went to prayers for. She talked about starting on medications for HIV and that she had become so much better. She told us that she had started working again.

Our friend was sharing her story with a group of people who knew what she was talking about. Most of those in the room were HIV positive themselves.

She carried on talking. Last week she felt sick again. A fever. A crushing headache. She was so scared that this would mean her losing her job. She didn't want to stop working.

She prayed. Called on the name of Jesus. And went to sleep.

When she woke up she was so much better.

Her voice remained barely audible as she told her story. But her eyes flashed through moist eyes.

She walked back to her seat enfolded by the applause of everyone in the room.

Another friend with HIV - sharing slices of who they are - at the monthly Positive Friends support group meeting.

Tears

I saw the old woman crying. I thought she was crying for herself.

Sheba was counselling three ladies in her cabin. The old lady had HIV and had lost her husband over a year ago.

Later Sheba told me that Mrs. Nalli was crying for her daughter Monika. Monika married some years ago and wanted to become a police woman. She was preparing for the entrance exam and it looked likely that she would be selected. She then became pregnant.

Her in-laws wanted her to get the job and were afraid that the child would mean that Monika would not get selected. They forced her to have an abortion.

Two years have gone by. Over the time the in-laws have shifted their demands. Now they want a child. And Monika is not conceiving. The abortion method used was one that should never have been used for a first pregnancy. She is trying to use fertility treatment. As it is so crudely put by so many: "there is no 'issue' so far."

Among the issues and the tissues that were ripped are the fragments of lives. I saw the three women walking on the road later. The old lady and her two daughters. Who can tell from the outside, from seeing people on the street, what goes on within?

What words to say for the pain that marks our broken lives? Sheba held the hands of the broken mother and her broken daughter. Listened. Provided a small safe place for these women express their grief. Looked into the Word with them. Prayed. Monika will be coming back each week now.

No magic buttons. No simple solutions to make everything peachy-keen. But some steps on a road to healing.

Ray of hope

Eknath is not your ordinary pastor. For one he has HIV. For two he is (somewhat) open about his status. For three he has helped organise a network of people living with HIV in a rural part of Maharashtra.

Welcome to a small ray of hope.

Picture from G.Mo's artblog - gmoart.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/green-leaf.jpg

Life is tough. And then you find out that you are HIV positive.

That's what happened to Eknath and Nalini - his wife. Eknath had made a decision to follow Christ as a young man. Filled with zeal he threw himself into the task of sharing his new faith with others. A short training at a simple Bible school for Marathi speakers followed and he and his wife found themselves serving as pastors for a small fellowship of Christian believers.

Things did not go easy. Money was very, very scarce. Disappointments led to choices being made and after some months Eknath left his 'ministry' and pursued a living in other ways.

Then Eknath got sick. He was admitted to a local government hospital with a bad case of Tuberculosis. They tested him for HIV. He was positive. Nalini was tested too. She too was HIV positive.

In those dark hours, Eknath turned back to God. Nalini was there by his side in the hospital, with their infant daughter (mercifully negative) and slowly nursed her husband back to health.

When Eknath emerged from the months of recuperation he threw himself back into sharing his faith - but also enrolled himself in the Anti Retroviral Therapy clinic at the District Government Hospital. Here Eknath found that there were over 1000 others who were also HIV positive - and he became part of a loose network of HIV positive people.

Eknath also shared about his HIV status with other leaders in his Christian group - and they supported him to continue with his pastoral work. One of these leaders put Eknath in touch with us at Jeevan Sahara, and we had the privilege of giving him a training in basic HIV care 2 years ago.

Eknath and Nalini's life continues to be a set of challenges. Money is always in short supply. They run a small dry-goods provision store to help make ends meet - and get a small stipend from the Christian organisation they are linked with. They would like their daugther to study in an 'English-medium' school - but the donations and fees are beyond them.

But this couple are pushing forward.

Several times a week Eknath gets on his motorbike and goes to different villages - meeting people with HIV. As a couple they spend time counselling others like them. Motivating. Organising. Praying.

I was amazed to meet Eknath recently and see that he has been instrumental in getting over 100 HIV positive people enrolled in a government scheme that gives a small pension of Rs. 750 per month to people with disabilities. It seems that having HIV/AIDS has been added as an eligibility criteria for this scheme. The sheer task of getting all the papers in order - and then pursuing the government officials is collossal - and yet this man and his fellow activists have done it!

Even thinking of doing something similar here in Thane seems well nigh impossible. To get a single paper needed (ration card / below poverty line certificate / disability certificate to name just three) presents a daunting task of dealing with corrupt local government officials. To do so for so many...

Nothing is impossible, however. And Eknath has shown what can be done - even when it seems undoable. Hats off to Eknath and Nalini - and who knows how many other silent and unsung heroes out there. These are people who are turning back the tide of HIV - by ministering to and advocating with those whose lives are already swirled around by the disease.

What a deep privilege for us to play a small part in this big picture.

Starting a day

How do we start a day?

It stretches before us. Empty. Uninhabited. Waiting for our footsteps to explore it as our gentle (or harried) friend Time takes us through it.

Do we remember our Maker as we wend our way through this 24 hour slot?

At Jeevan Sahara we try. Each morning we take some time to sing praises and encourage each other from what God has been telling us in our own reading of the Bible. Turn by turn. We hear different voices - and are so often provided with key thoughts which accompany us as we tunnel through the experiences that this day has to offer us.

A short prayer for some of our Positive Friends and for a local church (again on rotation - there are far more than the 30 days in a month allow of course) and then we disperse to the tasks at hand.

Trumpet pictures

Just look at the little fellow. Who says this world has lost hope when babies as beautiful as this are still arriving!

Welcome, little Shofar Evangel Ramesh!

You have just emerged into the bright lights of this wonderful world. We will be celebrating the 16th of June from now on - and each year you will understand more of what we are celebrating about.

In the mean-time - enjoy! Your Mummy and Daddy are looking after your every needs. Every little cry and wimper from you is so precious to them - they are at your beck and call. Feeding you. Cleaning you. Carrying you. Putting you to sleep. Talking to you. Singing to you. Staying up late. Getting up early. Swerving everything else around a little pretty maelstorm called Shofar!

And then you have your wonderful sister Frankie! She is so delighted to have a brother - and what a beautiful brother at that too! Here you are - all 3.5 kgs of you being held in the arms of your sister. How strange and wonderful for her to be holding you - a life - a boy with purpose. Yesterday she used to play with dolls. But you are so different. It might take a little while for Frankie to get used to you Shofar - but you are going to have a lot of fun with such a great older sister!

Shofar, your Thatha and Ammamma are trying to come to see you as soon as possible. For some reason - the people at your consulate in Hyderabad are taking their sweet time to give your grand-parents an interview. Maybe if you cry loud enough the consulate uncles will give the visas sooner? Should we make a youtube video and send the US consulate a link?

In the mean time all your cousins on the other side of the world (that's the junior Eichers and Joanna and Anmol!) have been ooohing and aaaahing at your photos. We have prayed for months and months - and now you are hear. How lovely to see our prayers answered in who you are!

Your Mummy and Daddy have chosen a very unique set of names for you. You can be sure of this. There is no one else in the whole world. In the 6.5 billion people who live on this beautiful blue ball - with a name like Shofar Evangel Ramesh. Your uncle Andreas Daud Eicher (whose name is pretty unique too) will guarantee that. Just like there is no one called Frankincense Graceola Ramesh! Hooray our little trumpet for having such creative parents - who have marked you apart from birth with your unique moniker!

Monsoon

Today is summer solstice. The longest day of the year. The day when us Northern-Hemisphere-wallas get the maximum amount of sunlight.

It should be the hottest day of the year - but it isn't. At least for us in the Indian Sub-continent. We have the monsoon to thank for that! Without the monsoon we would be like the Sahara desert. Literally. India lies at the same latitude as much of North Africa. Without the great seasonal wet - we would be so very hot and arid - that nothing would grow.

A colossal amount of rain is dumped over India thanks to steady winds that bring moisture off the Indian Ocean. These winds also distributes the huge masses of moisture as steady rains all over the subcontinent. Being on the west coast - Mumbai (and Thane of course) get huge precipitation as the clouds hit the shore. Since Mumbai is a long peninsula - basically reclaimed from 7 original islands - and since most of the city is virtually at sea level - each year the place floods - often at what seems to be the slightest down-pour. The reason is simple - when the sea is in high tide - whatever storm water is getting flushed down the sewers (even when they work) - meets the sea - and comes up on the streets!

Nothing new. Growing up in Mumbai we used pray for rain - so that we would get a school holiday declared. I remember waking up on some mornings hopeful that my prayers were answered - seeing a pool of water forming outside our house in Nana Chowk - only to be told by my parents that we were going to school anyway. Raincoats came on and out we went into the wet.

To my parents horror - we used to actually love 'swimming' in the floods when they really covered the compound with knee deep water. Looking back now I see my exuberance with horribly adult eyes.

But the constant streams of water did actually change the compound to a small wonder world. A few areas had tiny pools of water where we could see tadpoles grow. We explored small rivulets and made dams.

Coming to Thane just under a decade ago we met a dear old man in our house church - Uncle Dhanawade - always prayed for rains. Each year I remember him praying for rains. Uncle has been promoted to glory - so these days as the monsoonal rains start falling (and especially when they stop for a few days in between) - I remember Uncle Dhanawade's prayers.

Last year was almost a major drought year. The signs were ominous - especially early in the monsoon as most of north India was not getting enough. We prayed. Things changed.

I am praying again this year. For all the flooding misery that Mumbaikers will have to go through in a normal monsoon - our dear country does need rain. And more, not less.

The LORD will open the heavens, the storehouse of his bounty, to send rain on your land in season and to bless all the work of your hands. You will lend to many nations but will borrow from none. Deut. 28.12