Tuesday evening meeting

Every Tuesday night we go up to a small room. Three flights of stairs. Sometimes without a light in the stairwell. Its a 2 room appartment with only one window.

Asha and Enoch arrive at home at 6.45 PM. We quickly swap their uniforms for normal clothes and bustle them down, catch an autorickshaw and end up in Manorama Nagar - one of the large shantytown areas of Thane.

The room that we meet inin better shape than the shacks around it - but not by too much. It is brick and concrete. It is on the 3rd floor of a 5 floor "illegal" appt. building (as are all in this area). The room got a coat of fresh paint this week - so it is not as dingy as it used to be. But no real window. No ventilation. Par for the course for so many of our urban dwellers.

And yet this is where we gather to learn about the son of a carpenter - the man who was also the Son of God. We are reading the Gospel according to Luke. The amazing person of Jesus shines through. We read and pray and see how His life shapes ours. How our brokeness and rejection of Him is countered in His love and embrace - as well as His desire that we repent and change.

The small group that gathers are exactly the people Jesus would have been hanging out with. Frail and foolish. Wrapped up in cares. Clinging on to life. Probably half are HIV positive too. But that is not the rallying point on this night. We are here to hear about this man Jesus. We are here to measure our own brokeness by his completeness - and see our hearts moulded into His.

We talked about temptation. The constant choices we have to make. The real, very real benefits that are directly angled our way. Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert. Yet he had 40 solid days of anguish as our enemy sought to defeat him through every possible means. And at the root of it is this slippery thing called temptation - the bait to switch our loyalties from what we know is right - to what we is suggested we should have. Ditching our trust that God will look after us - and grabbing things in our own hands.

After the time together we talked with our brothers and sisters. One of the men lives nearby and had been bringing his autorickshaw home and was met by Shanti and told to join in. He talked about how he just does not have peace - that all day he is just struggling to get by - and that every free moment is spent worrying about what to do. And the rest of the time he is just waiting to explode in anger. We prayed together.

Afterwards I talked to another man. He asked for prayer. For India to win in cricket against Pakistan in the semi-finals of the World Cup. We laughed. I think he was serious. We talked that there were Jesus-followers in Pakistan who were probably praying this same for their team. If we do pray for cricket, it will be that the match will be a beautiful one.

We decided to walk home - about a 20 min walk through the slum - the road taking us up a hill and over the main highway to the next rise where our appartment is. We buy some tomatoes on the way. As we move down towards the highway a familar face emerges. "What are you doing here?" asks our scooter mechanic and insists that we stop in and see him room. We do. The four of us in the 8 x 10 foot room that his family of four live in. Parallel lives to us. Two kids. Girl and boy. In 4th and 2nd standards. We are given cashews and manage to escape tea only because it was so late at night. We leave a portion of Scripture with the man as we say our good-byes.

As we pass a neighbours home I see a lady who is a security guard at the local supermarket.

The world is alive with God's precious people. Its a privilege to live this life.

Roadside shack

One of the many things our dear friend John Forbes did when he visited us 2 weeks ago was to squeeze in a small visit to one of our most challenging Positive Friends.

Bali (as we will call him) lives in a shack on the side of the road just 100 meters from the JSK clinic. Its a pitiful contraption of old boards banged together - abutting a tree that juts out into the road.

pic. by John Forbes

The last few years seem to have been spent in a haze of alcohol. And that has been our experience with him for most of the 4 months that our JSK team has been ministering to him. Either he is drunk. Or his brother. Or his mother. Or all three.

Having HIV in this situation is not easy. We found out that Bali was suffering from TB too. The govt. health authorities initially balked at our request that he be started on anti-TB meds. But our staff persuaded. And so we were given his box of meds to give him every other day.

Our staff have gone the extra mile with Bali. And then some.

Given the chaotic situation in his 'house' it is not surprising that Bali has hardly been eating. TB robs people of their appetite. And Bali's mother and brother hardly brought food. Instead they repeatedly cursed him. Bali was weak and bed-ridden. We looked into possibilities for putting him in an institution - but nothing opened up.

Our staff and different volunteers kept meeting Bali. They spent time with him. They cooked food and brought it to him. They prayed and encouraged him. They listened and agonised about how best to help. Despite the food our staff has been giving Bali's weight was going down. Did he have malaria? The shack had a cloud of mosquitos. The bed was filthy. Bali had not had a bath... since when?

Each day brought a new distressing report. What were we going to do. It all seemed pretty hopeless.

Needless to say - Bali was also deeply depressed.

Early last week we decided to take him into the JSK Clinic as a day patient. Forget about his mother and brother's 'help' - we would try and do what we could.

Peter went to tell him about being admitted during the day. Bali refused. "What will I do there all day? And after that? I have to come back here. I am better here."

Those were the words spoken by Bali.

But what he was really saying is: "I am tired of all of this and don't want to carry on." The voice was his but the words were his depression and hopelessness speaking.

We persevered. That afternoon Peter went again. The next morning a small team went and put Bali in a wheel-chair and brought him to the centre. Giri gave him a haircut and a bath. A set of clean clothes on, Bali was admitted for the day. Our staff continued to talk with him. At the end of the day he was wheeled back to the shack.

Over the past week we are seeing a different Bali.

There are still challenges, but he has opened up.

He told Sheba about a childhood experience where he was rounded up on the suspicion of being a thief. He was placed in a 'remand' home and beaten so badly, that when he was finally released he vowed to fulfill what he had been accused of.

Bali told Sheba about the constant abuse that he got from his mother and brother. She prayed with him. Amazingly the last 3 days of the week went by without him being cursed by his near (and dear?).

Bali looks a different person now. But he still has HIV. His TB status is now sputum negative (big cheer!). But he still has many challenges - and is still immobile in his shack. He does have hope in Jesus. He has not touched the bottle for some time now. He has made some steps forward in his life.

The complexities of this man's life are a small picture of the teeming whirlpool of people who eddy through our vast grimy cityscapes. Each has so many stories. Most of them locked down under layers and layers of sadness. Or boisterous street-smart mannerisms.

We are far from the end of Bali's quest. We have been through some deep waters with him over the past month. But after a long time we do see some light instead of only darkness.

Urban dairy

Sheba visited a home yesterday.

If you can call it a home.

The family keep water buffaloes. Four of them. Urban dairy farmers.

Last week Mrs. Handi (as we will call her) asked for prayer. A buffalo was sick. Not giving the milk that she normally does.

The family lives on a little platform - a loft of sorts - above the buffaloes. Father and mother both have HIV. One of the 5 children have HIV too. The platform has no walls. It is open on all sides. This is where these 5 children are growing up.

We remember our Lord who was born in a stable - and whose parents were too poor to purchase a lamb...

Mr. Handi was not there when Sheba visited. The oldest daughter's marriage has been fixed for May. He had gone to buy some clothes. Whether these were for the daughter - or for some ceremony before hand was not clear.

Sheba talked with Mrs. Handi. This small woman talks so softly you can hardly hear her. There is much sorrow in her life. Much of it revolves around her husband and his drowning of his own self in alcohol. We have seen Mrs. Handi open up ever-so-slowly over the past few weeks. Something deep is taking place within her. We continue to pray for her.

Sheba asked about the buffalo. It seems it is fine now.

Change the world - through Art

Today is World TB Day. In Delhi a show of paintings seeks to bring the forgotten face - and faces - of tuberculosis to light - to those in power and authority - both in the government and business communities - as well as to all of us who are made in the image of God and are placed on this planet to make a difference.

The Spirit of Life - by Soni Singh

Stefan has been speaking about this to the press with the Times of India and the Indian Express carrying stories today.

"I talked to a man whose children were about the same age as my children. After the conversation he took off his mask and he was a completely different man. My painting is a reflection of how masks is a banner that separates on human being from another" Stefan said in the Indian Express article.

What next for these amazing artists who are changing the world - one picture at a time?

Stay tuned.

A glimpse

I have an image in my head.

Its over a month old, but it pops up again and again.

There is a small woman who is destitute and lives on the street near our appartment building.

We will call her 'Tanya.' We have helped out this lady in various ways. While out on the street in late 2008 she was helped by JSK to give birth to her daughter. We then worked to get Tanya reunited with her daughter after the baby was placed in a home by a set of social workers.

Later, after much effort, our staff were able to get Tanya and her baby into a home for women and childre. After an initially hopeful time, we saw things disintegrate and Tanya show up in her previous spot again. Her child was used to gain sympathy - and she got a trickle of gifts from appartment-dwellers upset to see the small child on the street again. Tanya had burned her bridges with the institution and was unwilling to step into other situations. She was going to stay where she was. Our final step was to have her agree to let the daughter go back to the institution Tanya had left. Many tears.

Since then we see her pottering about. Collecting garbage. Talking to herself.

Tanya has a husband who has abandonned her. She has an older son who is being looked after by the husbands family. Each time I see her she seems to have shrunken a little bit more. The constant stab of the vast sea of misery is present in this waif-like woman.

And here is the image in my mind.

I was walking by the spot where Tanya stays, and saw that she was not alone.

She was lying on her back, with her head in the lap of a young boy. Maybe 12 years old. He was holding her. She was reaching out her hand and touching him. Hugging him. The boy allowing his mother to touch him. The tiny dirty woman now childlike, with her son though young in years now cradling her with motherly affection.

A glimpse of a small ray of light in a very muddled life.

New Hope

Jagdish came to the Jeevan Sahara Kendra last week.

We had had a brief email correspondance and a telephone chat with Jagdish and encouraged him to come to the JSK Clinic.

He came.

Jagdish has known that he is HIV positive for the last 8 years. He is smart, well-educated and articulate.

His wife Neeta was also tested. Without her knowledge. She is also HIV positive. Jagdish did not tell her about her status.

For the last 5 years Jagdish has been running pillar to post trying to get treatment and a cure. He has been taking Neeta to a doctor who has treated her with Anti-Retroviral Medication for 4 years without telling her that she has HIV. Jagdish told her that she is 'weak' and needs to take this medicine everyday. He has also gone to various places which promised cures. One hospital in Andheri gave her 5 injections they said would cure her - and took Rs. 10,000/ for their 'treatment.'

Neeta is very depressed. Jagdish wanted us to treat her again without telling her what her status was. He said that she is illiterate and will not be able to take the shock.

We told him that we cannot treat people without telling the truth. We told him that Jesus has told us that 'the truth will set us free.' We told him about many others who were able to understand their condition even though they did not have much education. We told him that we would pray for them as a couple.

The next day Jagdish and Neeta came.

She was small and shrunken. When Sheba asked her what she felt, Neeta talked about how sad she was that they did not have a house of their own. A long conversation followed and the topic of HIV was brought up. Sister Chinnamma and Sheba were able to build a relationship with the couple. They listened and listened as the story of their lives was shared. They prayed with the couple.

Jagdish and Neeta both agreed to be tested together. As they left Jagdish looked visibly happier.

The next day the couple returned. We had the results in hand. As expected, both were HIV positive.

Sheba shared the result with Neeta in the presence of Jagdish. After giving her some time to digest the news, Sheba asked Neeta what she felt about this news. After a short silence Neeta burst out crying. "Why did you keep this hidden from me?" she asked Jagdish through the tears. "I wanted to tell you" said Jagdish, "but I was afraid about how you would react."

There is no easy way to disclose. But we were blessed to be able to help Jagdish and Neeta take a very important step in their lives together.

The next day the couple visited us again. This time to participate in a special meeting we had with John Forbes. John has known he is HIV positive since 1995 and was diagnosed with AIDS in 2001. His amazing life-story - one of brokeness and redemption is a powerful example of what God can do. He shared his story with our JSK staff and selected Positive Friends on Friday.

After the meeting Jagdish and Neeta went up to meet John.

"We have found new hope" they told John. "Before we came here, we did not know what to do, but we have received love and hope."

Its a privilege to walk along side our dear friends. Jagdish and Neeta still have a long road ahead of them, but we have seen a remarkable change in the course of just a few days since we first came in touch with them.

Annual days

This past week saw a double-header with Enoch having his annual day programme on Monday and Asha on Friday.

Our children attend a school run by a Jain trust with over 7000 other students. That's right. 7000+. Their school years have 11 sections each - with 50 students per class. So when they have to perform - it means that the teachers have to organise programmes to incorporate every student.

We knew we were in for a lot of dances.

Enoch was given the role of 'Mr. Walter' a foreign friend who comes with his family to meet Mr. DeSouza of the Adarsh Hindusthan Housing Society. In the course of his visit - our intrepid Mr. Walter and family are shown the various Indian cuisines and dances. Enoch was told to wear suspenders and 3/4 pants - which sound suspiciously like visitors from 40 years ago. But wear them he did.

Asha's annual day was an out-and-out dance panorama. Many of the states were represented by traditional and religious dances. Asha participated in a Vellankalli dance from Kerala. The dance recreates the rowing competitions and Asha essayed one of the maidens who come in after the race was won. Having earlier learned complicated steps for a Nagaland dance - she was disappointed when that was cancelled and she was assigned to this one. But dance she did with gusto. The same for her singing a patriotic song and the school song at the end.

I was a bit numbed at the end with all the dances - but like all the parents in the room - my eyes were glued on our own whenever they came on stage.

How much more our heavenly Father must look upon us with joy as we cross this big stage called life!