Road called hope

We have walked some way along the Misery Road with Mallika.

By God's grace our friends in Ooty are willing to take Mallika on board - offering her a job with a handicraft unit - while working with her to build a new identity and work through the many scars she bears.

Small. Boyish in her dress and appearance. Mallika is all of 21 years old. But she has already seen such sorrow.

We are now working to getting her down to Ooty as soon as possible. Today one of our friends managed to book her a ticket to Bangalore on a bus for Thursday afternoon (trains are way over-booked since we are still in the Diwali festivities). We hope to have someone meet her there on Friday and then she will be taken up to Ooty, and the new parts of her life.

Everything still hangs by a thread. Will she come? Will she go all the way there? What are the things that are tugging her heart? What thoughts go on through her mind?

No easy answers. No quick fixes. But everything, everything we do for God and in the amazing name of Jesus, makes sense. And each life invested in - as slight and inconsequential as that life may be to the vast grinding wheels of history around us - each life is of collossal worth...

We continue to walk along a road called hope.

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Post Script - 13.11.2010

Mallika has safely made it down to Ooty where she has been given a job and will be living in a transitional living arrangement that the Freedom Firm helps run. We are so grateful for the amazing work that Freedom Firm does. Thanks also to our friends at Oasis India Trust who helped Mallika transition through Bangalore yesterday. Thanks for your prayers too!

Fun and Games

There is something deeply wired into the core of who we are - a deep love for play. We may spend a lot of time denying it - but the very attention that we pay to others - the slight quicking of our hearts when a good game starts shows our pretense for what it is.

Hunger for games is mirrors the itch to move our limbs in dance upon hearing the lilting strains of a melody - or joyous drumbeating rythyms. Playing is a wonderful joy of letting go - in creating another world with its own exciting rules - that mirrors and enhances the world we experience.

Consider a heap of mud that was shaped outside my office.

The red mud was gradually shaped a beautiful house - complete with a miniature working well. The sons of the miller who runs the flour mill next door (these same boys who were so often beaten by their father in the past) spent many happy hours building this marvel. I was delighted to see it take shape - every addition a testimony to the genius of play.


Note the small plant that was added (above) - and the styrofoam wheel (below) that was crafted so that a small bottle cap could draw water out of the well. A few days after this shot a carpet of green sprouts had made a virtual lawn...

Pictures courtesy Enoch Eicher - who was fascinated by this beautiful house.

Games take us into other worlds. Even the simplest one. Take the vicarous thrill of 'snakes and ladders'. A big equaliser. No real skill required. Just the joy and minor sorrow of seeing your playing piece move ahead - or slip back.

And then there are the more physical contests. We had special games times at the Church Camp - but these were relatively poorly attended. But at the same time spontaneous circles of sport opened up. Vigorous dodge-ball contests provided much entertainment - for participants and spectators alike.

Being a game of some skill - the group self selected. Most of the time it was the late high-school and college / young professional crowd that made up this particular set of games.

Asha and Enoch were masters at Uno - and spent many happy games at home (with us) and at camp (with tons of other eager players).

For me - I thank God for the plastic heirloom that Enoch spends hours playing with - our Lego set from days of yore.

Having a 7 going on 8 year old son allows this old man plenty of opportunities to play. Our latest project is below:


Our first swimming pool - complete with real water and lots of mini-men doing the float (they don't seem to be very active).

What is it about Lego that keeps bringing me back to it? I think it is a combination of the joy of seeing things fit together - the pleasure of seeking out pieces from the mountain of bricks that we have - of seeing a design take shape - constantly tweaking it here and there.

And also the joy of making something that is our world in miniature.

A small world that mirrors out bigger one. The pleasure of creating a similacure of something that we experience - or wish to experience. The delight in seeing the big in the small - an ordinary beauty of seeing the known scaled down into miniature settings.

And then the incongruity of our size which towers Gulliver-like over the land.

Play is of course robustly therapeutic. But more than the knock-on benefits - we play because we delight in living out stories.

To camp!

We are about to leave for camp in 45 minutes.

So here goes the quickest entry ever:

About 200 odd folks (most like us - 'odd') are going to spend 4 days together at an old Parsee boarding school in Khandala. Singing, praying, listening to God's word, discussing, playing, sleeping, talking, eating, talking, eating, sleeping, playing, praying... you get the picture.

The centre of all of this is the person of Jesus Christ. No getting around it. And that's the theme of the Family Camp this year "Looking Unto Jesus"

Here is an amazing quote I just heard, attributed to a person called Ray Hilderbrand:

"God loves you just the way you are,
But too much to let you stay that way."

That's why our lives revolve around the person of Jesus. Strip him out of the picture and whatever we do is the worst form of crock. But oh the glories of knowing Him and growing in Him....

We are off to camp! Ciao!

Steps forward

I have seen tomorrow. And it is here.

We met tonight in the gleaming building that will start to breathe soon as the new Bethany Hospital. We met as a group of volunteers getting ready for the dedication time on the 13th of November.

Dr. Stephen Alfred and Mr. EJ Stephen - the founder and CEO of the hospital respectively - were with us. Dr. S. talked about the 400 sq ft clinic he started out with at Gokhale Rd. in Thane. Then the 2 floor Lok Hospital - which had 2 more floors added on. And now this 8+ floor compact monster. Far beyond what a single person can think - and the result of the inputs of so many - in so many ways.

We prayed and talked about how we would be shepherding the 350 odd selected folks around the new premises. We walked through the gleaming corridors - while workmen were still putting finishing (and the stage before finishing) touches on the place. How such a huge structure can take shape. The 50 odd contractors that the hospital has been working with. The massive investments in equipment and furnishings. A nuclear medicine machine so that radiation therapy can be given for people suffering from cancer. The oh-so-right logic of a ground floor casualty with operating theatre right there for A+E patients to be taken straight in from the ambulances. And hundreds and hundreds of other details.

Breath-taking. Awe-inspiring. I felt like I was walking through Star-Wars. Maybe Star-Wards?

And yet all of this is crumbling ashes if it isn't inhabited with the love of Christ. What good is it to have the most glistening facilities, the most advanced set of specialists (Pediatric Nephrologist, Pediatric Oncologist, Pediatric Neonatologist, Pediatric Nutritionist etc - and that is only in Pediatrics...) - what good are the best docs in the world - if there is no real love - no real hope.

The crashing burden of super modern medicine was brought home to me again earlier this morning as I went down to buy a loaf of bread.

A man who distributes packets of milk was lying on a newspaper. I thought he may be drunk. He wasn't. He was sick.

Murali (pseudonym of course) is from (you guessed it) the south. He has had fever and chills. Malaria parasite negative. Query dengue. No chance of hospital admissions for him. He lives here alone with some other migrants from his area. He has had tests done and has taken meds but is not better.

In fact it gets worse. Murali is trying to pay back a debt. A debt of Rs. 5 lakhs that was incurred when his diabetic father had a heart attack. The hospitalisation and surgery put the family back that much. They sold off a portion of their land. 2.5 lakhs remained to be paid back. Murali has sold off his only 'asset' he has here - his paper route. Now he works for the person he sold it to. And Murali himself is sick - with seemingly no one to help him. All I could do was sit with him and talk. Put a hand on his shoulder and pray - before he went into the bright sunshine of his day - and back to the suburb where he shares his room with others.

We live in such a grim world.

Our prayer is that the gleaming insides of the new Bethany Hospital will be able to look after Muralis - as well as those who have health insurance and company health policies. Our working funds at Jeevan Sahara Kendra come largely from the profits that the current Lok Hospital - which will be shifting into the new Bethany Hospital. We are hugely grateful for this long-standing support for our work. And we are grateful for the huge opportunity that awaits us as we seek to shift the Jeevan Sahara Kendra work to the current Lok Hospital building.

Our Lord was full of grace and truth. May we follow his footsteps with joyful loving hearts.

Lives changing lives

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons says J. Alfred Prufrock in TS Eliot's poem.

We may drink many a cuppa of 'kapi' - and many a more 'cuttings' of chai - but we use a different metric.

We measure our lives with the lives of others.

What a joy to see another remarkable set of three young man pass through Jeevan Sahara Kendra - and leave their own indelible mark.

Paokholun "Lun" Haokip, Nimit Patel, Naveen Bhambal

A mere seven months ago. So long a time it seemed in at the cusp of April. So short an eye-blink it now seems as we edge into November.

Our three friends came from the Union Biblical Seminary. They came to learn. To experience ministry among the urban poor. To get their hands dirty in roll-up-your-sleeves work with a group of people who society abhors. They did.

And now suddenly its time to say 'good-bye.'

Time to take that deep bitter-sweet breath and grasp a firm handshake, give a tight hug, and entrust each other into God's hands.
We gathered at our home on Thursday night to say farewell to our heroes. They have each one of them blessed us immensely. We miss them already - even though they physically leave us only on Monday.

Looking back we are again amazed by what they have added to us this year. The whole process of starting HIV testing camps in local churches came through their sweat work. The amazing time at the Positive Friends Family Bible camp. The new set of worship songs that Naveen took us through.

Besides the sadness we also reveled in hilarity. An amazing game where we tested the depths of how much we knew our special three brought gales of laughter from one and all.

A sobering but challenging message from the Word: God having prepared us and placed us in the unique situations that we are 'for such a time as this' (Esther 4.14). We are not here by accident. There is a huge amount of work to be done. The stakes are sky-high. Literally. And if we do not... well, God can raise up someone else too. The universe does not revolve around us. We are privileged to move forward as part of the amazing set of work the Spirit is doing across the world.

The flip side - something that our friends understand well - is that not everyone always appreciates radical people. Lun, Nimit and Naveen are all headed for pastoral ministry. How many of their committee members want their pastors to talk about HIV and AIDS. Wouldn't they rather have them organise the Christmas pageant and arrange the prayers for young children in their exam times?

We measure our lives with lives. Lives that are shaped and moulded through the fire. Lives that change other lives.

We are humbled to have been a small part in shaping Lun, Nimit and Naveen. Where will they go now? 1.5 more years of seminary - and then out into the world of almost infinite destiny-shaping opportunities. At least in this generation we will be dealing with HIV throughout our lives. They are well equipped to be the servant leaders to help their congregations make a difference.

Our blessings on you three! We miss you already!

Misery Road

We got an email. A cry for help.

A lady who we met at the EMFI conference in Ranchi told us about a Tamil girl who was in Mumbai and had gotten into trouble and did not have a home.

The email said that she was staying at "Misery Road"

Sheba contacted the phone number and was able to talk to the girl. We will call her Mallika.

She is currently being put up with friends of friends of friends in a place called "Mira Road"

But she certainly is living in "Misery Road"

Mallika was sold when she was 9 years old. Her story is very dark. She has seen and experienced some of the worst things that anyone can experience.

A few years ago she was 'rescued' from the notorious brothels of Kamathipura by a pioneering social worker. Then started a long set of shufflings between different organisations. She has been up and down the country, trying to make a life. Currently she has burned some bridges with the latest institution that has been trying to help her.

Oh that we could have an orange button to press and make every thing work out right. Some magic wand to wave over a person and erase the past and make the present perfect.

Not going to happen.

Instead we join the chain of people who have been trying to help Mallika make a new life. Our involvement is small. Listening to her. Praying with her. Seeing what options she has now. Looking to see which of our friends can take the next steps in partnering with her. To move her out of 'Misery Road' and walk with her - for some distance at least - along the road of Hope. To see her come to a place on her pilgrimage where she is more and more of a blessing to herself and to others.

A broken and contrite heart, Oh God, you will not despise...

Welcome the little children

A little premature, underweight baby girl was abandonned at a mission hospital in North India. A nurse from the Nav Jivan Hospital was attending a training at that hospital. She heard about the abandoned child and asked her husband whether they could adopt the baby. He said yes. The nurse was Prabha. Her husband Christochit.

And so little Anushka was adopted by Christochit and Prabha Kerketta.

We are so glad for this couple - who we used to work together with in the community health department of Nav Jeevan Hospital. It is a special joy to us that we helped facilitate them getting married to each other while we were working at Nav Jivan Hospital 10 years ago.

And we are so glad for the lovely little girl - who is growing into a spunky chubby child.

By God's grace and a bit of nudging with the hospital authorities, Prabha was given maternity leave after adopting the baby - something that had not been done before.

It was just a thrill to see this beautiful child having grown and developed so much since we first saw her last year.

As with all of us - Christo and Prabha have their limitations - who among us fit the bill of 'perfect parents' - but what wonderful carers they have been to Anushka!

We are so proud of families who open up their arms for children. Adoptions, foster care, being hospitable, providing a safe place - for a day - for a month - any of these steps always means stepping outside our comfort zones. But oh what oportunities to experience the Father heart of God.

Being the son of an adoptee - and the brother of another - I can totally and unequivocally say - let there be more. We need to see the lonely into families.

Christo and Prabha are among the many unsung heroes who are showing the way. With God's grace and help they should not - and we pray they will not - be the exception. Lets open our arms out wide....