Coconuts

Sheba's parents told us on the phone - they have over 200 coconuts outside their house in the small village of Tungalam, outside Vishakapatnam in Andhra Pradesh.

To think of so many of this king of fruit hanging in clusters from just two trees - and those too one in the front of the house and one in the tiny space at the back.

So many that Amma and Appa just do not know what to do with them. How many coconuts can they eat? I personally love coconut chicken curry - but how many times can that be eaten - esp. by our parents who need to keep an eye on their cholesterol.

The coconut can be used in so many ways: the flesh is used for cakes and curries, chutneys and all manner of food down south. The oil is used in cooking and hair. The husk and the bark for making coir. The wood has it uses too.

But what about drinking tender coconuts? As something for sick people and something for quenching a thirst on a hot day, what can beat a freshly opened tender coconut?

Day of prayer and fasting

Union Church, Muniguda, Orissa

September 7th is a day when churches across India will be praying and fasting on behalf of those who are being hounded out of their homes, burnt alive and forced into unspeakable acts in Orissa.

A summary list of some of the many acts of violence over the past 2 weeks can be found at the EFI news site or by clicking here

Lets keep praying.

A burnt doll is seen outside a Christian home at Suleswar village in Orissa August 31, 2008. (Picture: Reuters)

Re-integration

Mrs. Maninder is coming home. But to what?

Two years ago, Mrs. Maninder was living in a lean-to next to a garbage dump. She was at the end of herself - HIV positive - with a newborn baby - her husband having squandered his money and been sacked from a govt job (if that is even possible) - her older child with a huge cleft-palate... It looked totally hopeless.

Today, thanks to many prayers, Mrs. Maninder has been looked after by a rehabilitation home during which time her daughter (who is HIV negative - thanks to the cleft palate preventing breast-feeds) having had most of the basic reconstructive surgeries done. Mrs. Maninder has put on weight and wants to start working as a seamstress again.

But where is home?

And at what level is she going to live? She has been blessed with a beautiful stay at a home where all the amenities were modern, good nutritious food given free of cost, many social workers and volunteers who loved her and cared for her every need.

Now she is to be 're-integrated'. She wasn't even integrated when she left.

In the process of trying to find solutions, we explored having Mrs. Maninder staying with a nearby organisation for some time. The accommodation was a single large room that serves as a dormitory for the ladies being helped. Mrs. Maninder was shocked to see that there were no cupboards and minimal fans. Our colleagues at the place where she currently is, spent today trying to help her get ready for what is most likely to be a drastic change of lifestyle from the last 2 years.

Tomorrow we are going to make a pitch in our local church. To see whether our fellowships are ready to take the plunge. Not just to say "we will pray for you" but to really put our time / money / effort into this small family. Finding a place to stay. Supporting nutritionally. Visiting and encouraging. Helping Mrs. Maninder with her child-care and child-raising. Welcoming her into a home fellowship. Being there. Love in action. Love in practice.

The costs are huge. The immediate outcomes uncertain. Mrs. Maninder is not the most pleasant person to be with. But she is a child of God. She is a person we have been given a divine appointment with. She and her two children are those to whom we must, we absolutely must look after. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world (James 1.27).

It is not only this widow and her two orphans that need re-integration. Each one of us does. To get out of our 'comfort' zone and to be really stretched - and blessed. God help us (even if it be by a mighty kick in the seat of our pants).

Toothy issues

We've had some pretty grim posts recently (nothing strange about that - we live in some pretty grim times after all), but here is something on the lighter note.

Enoch discovered something while brushing his teeth tonight.

"I think one of my teeth is loose" he said.

No way I thought. Exaggeration.

But there it is - a lower front incisor - wiggling away to glory.

Enoch is 5 now. The picture above was taken when he was 3 and Asha 5. We are so blessed with these wonderful little ones (who are growing at a healthy clip).

The other day they enjoyed a day with Kea, the daughter of Nathan and Dr. Marise who helps at JSK. As Asha and Enoch grow, pray that they will continue to develop wonderful friendships and experience the joy of growing up knowing they are loved.

I could describe something I saw today, but I won't - its too painful. Suffice it to say, that we are very, very blessed. Looking back over the pictures that we have of the family over these years all we can say is that there is a lot of joy on our faces over the years.

Wiggling teeth or not - we have much to smile about!

River of sorrow

Sorry things are a bit glum on this on-line diary these days.

But that's the way the world we live in is.

Up North, in the fabled state of Bihar (or at least the rump that is left after Jharkhand got its own statehood a few years ago) we have the yearly tragedy of the floods.

The Kosi river is known as a river of sorrow as it floods almost every year. But this year is different. It has flooded in a totally new set of places, and the misery is immense.

EHA runs a brave hospital in the town of Madhepura where some of the worst flooding has taken place. The hospital has had to stop functioning for some time because everything is under water.

Who to help? How to help?

The politics of flood-relief is huge.

There is a whole vulture-class of contractors and politicians who divide up the spoils - huge funds sent from the centre end up lining the pockets of the rich patrons.

The human spirit makes can make mockery of the beauty of this earth.

Bihar - with its thousands of years of culture and learning - has little to show that dazzles today. Known as the basket-case state of our country - we find hard-working Biharis all over the land - looking for a better future than what is available in their native soil.

While not everyone has the privilege of being airlifted out by helicopter like the man on the right - we do pray that the various efforts - by the government, armed forces, parts of civil society will save the many who are on the brink of death.

As many others return to their sodden homes, our prayers go out for them.

Would that we would hear good news from Bihar, that the wonderful folks would be able to live up to their rich heritage and their spunk and joy of life.

Our flamboyant railway minister - Sri Lalu Prasad Yadav - was ironically elected from the Madhepura constituency (as well as another one) to current Parliament. He remains charismatic in his appeal - carefully keeping a rustic sheen to all his actions - while at the same time being a shrewd operator and holding on to the railway ministry.

We look forward to a new Bihar. One with rivers of joy rather than sorrow. Can you hear the mountains tremble...

A new word for shame

We have a new word for shame: its name is Orissa.

Here we are in the comforts of urban Mumbai - shopping for veggies in super-markets, sleeping in soft beds without a care in the world - and on the other side of our country we have the darkest pillaging going on.

Our papers? A few comments here and there. The BBC - not a word on its website today (plenty about a certain American lady's daughter's pregnancy...). CNN? Forget it.

We are in a culture of violence. Make no mistake. If you want to be heard today - you need to block the main road for some weeks. You need to break some heads - and taunt the police by throwing stones and burning their vehicles. Then they will open fire on you and you have your media-ready martyrs. The politicians will soon swarm around and announce a Rs. 5 lakh ex-gratia payment to the nearest and dearest.

Even the sign boards in Mumbai have suddenly sprouted Marathi (or at least Devanagri script). It didn't happen because a certain political party went on a massive tree planting expedition. It happened because our dear local goons love tearing things down. A few well aimed stones and that's that.

Take a look at what is happening in the wet greeness of Orissa. Last Christmas there was the dress rehearsal. Homes of Christians were specifically targetted and burned. Churches looted. People killed. Who knows how many. Its a jungle out there. The fact is that our country remained quiet. A few appeals for peace. No prosecutions. Nothing. The villagers fled into the forest. Some have still to return. Ethnic - or at least 'religious' cleansing. Fait accompli.

Now its out and out war. Only there is only one group that is moving forward with the killing. The VHP / Bajrang Dal and other such groups are clearly putting their swords where their mouths are.

What to say? Its so unbelievable - to have people being killed in our dear country. To live in a time such as this where violence is so horribly prevalent - and our leadership so terribly timid.

We have seen the likes before. 1984 with the Sikhs. 2006 with Gujarat. We have had exposes on TV where the Gujarat killers gleefully tell of what they did. Ripping pregnant women up. And yet did we see a tide of revulsion? No. The story died its natural death - between advertisements for underwear and washing powder and life insurance policies.

Jim Scott talks about "weapons of the weak" as everyday acts of resistance. He did fieldwork in Indonesia and saw how the peasants were able to carryout a steady attrition of powers to the patron - and yet still remained in their subordinate status.

Do we have some such weapons for our brothers and sisters in Orissa-land? The blinding irony of it all is that I have received about 15 emails today with different details about what is going on - and yet my day has continued on it its course pretty-much unscathed.

One of the few weapons that we have is to talk to God. This seems the most ludicrous and escapist / head in the sand one of all. But I am serious. Really talk. Pour out our hearts. We have an opportunity on Sunday when a national day of prayer and fasting has been called by the Indian Missions Association.

But what I mean is something even more elemental. A weeping before God for the horrible things that are happening in our beloved country. A groaning on behalf of those who groan - confused and disturbed and wounded.

A prayer for those who wield the tridents. That like the Lord said - Father forgive them, for they know not what they are doing. Our prayer must be that those who are doing the most killing will also be the ones who have a total change of heart- and become missionaries themselves. It has happened before - look at Saul's change to Paul and all that happened in the early church through him.

Do pray and agonise over what is happening. Pray for healing. Pray for justice. Pray for relief. Pray for mercy to those who are oppressing.

A few sites you might be interested in checking out:

1. Orissa burning

2. a candle in the dark

3. orissa burning take a look at the 30 comments - most of whom blame the missionaries and say good riddance

An entry into glory

Little Satish is no more.

He breathed his last a week ago. His little body stopped working as the hepatitis he got in the last days shut down the already weakened frame. This brave little 3 year old slipped into the hands of God.

We mourn the passing of a brave little boy. Our tears are real.

At the small funeral service on the grounds of the municipal crematorium, where his body was laid to rest in a small unmarked plot, Auntie Chinnamma sang a beautiful song in Malayalam.

The pain and the hope of glory were very much there.

Little Satish is no more with us, but he is!

We await the day when he will welcome us. Though very small, and though his life was short - and full of suffering - Satish is in the arms of Jesus.

We are grateful for all the prayers, all the love that this little boy received.

The world is not worthy...