Touch.

A few facts about Leprosy
1. It is completely curable with modern meds.
2. It is not hereditary or sexually transmitted.
3. It is not the actual disease that causes loss of limbs.
4. It one of the least contagious diseases known.
5. About 95% of the world is naturally immune to it.
6. There are 2 different kinds of Leprosy.

"Leprosy is a chronic infectious disease caused by a bacteria, Mycobacterium leprae. It is also known as Hansen's disease, named after it's discoverer Gerhard Henrick Armauer Hansen. Skin lesions are the primary external sign. Left untreated, leprosy can be progressive, causing permanent damage to the skin, nerves, limbs and eyes. Contrary to folklore, leprosy does not cause body parts to fall off, although they can become numb and/or diseased as a result of the disease."


A couple of weeks ago I visited the Leper colony with Mel. It was amazing. Very neat place. You drive through the gate into a beautiful, peaceful, quaint, almost village-like place. Micah, Levi, Tenzin and I spent the morning walking around exploring the place while Mel did some business stuff. We walked around meeting and hanging out with people and we also got to watch them work. It was so cool. The people were all SO sweet. Most do not speak very much English, but a smile and a TOUCH is worth a lot. The work they do is amazing and very interesting to watch. I could have sat there all day. They make handmade fabrics. They have ten big looms and they turn piles of plain ole cotton into beautiful fabrics, scarves, table cloths, curtains…just about anything you can imagine.

I walked into one room where a bunch of sweet old ladies were sitting on the floor on their little mats turning piles of cotton into thread. You walk out of that room into another little building were the big looms are, as well as tons and tons of dyed threads. It was so interesting to watch how they weave the fabrics. In another room there were a few people working with sewing machines. From there you walk across the yard to another little building where they do the dying of the thread. Vibrant colors everywhere. They are very skilled workers. Especially considering the fact that most of them are weaving with hardly any fingers left on their hands. Among many other things.

We walked all over the grounds and met so many kind people. There are quite a few little houses spread out over the grounds and then in the back there is an apartment complex type thing were the people who are really sick (basically dying) live.

All in all it's a very quaint little place. Green vegetation everywhere. Sweet smiles on the faces of everyone you meet. Kids playing. I liked it.
Walking around, it made me happy that they have such a sweet, quiet place to live and work. But on the other hand, it made my heart hurt. It made my heart hurt that these sweet people are considered outcasts to society. They cannot leave. They cannot walk down the street to buy groceries. They cannot go on walks with their family. They cannot go explore the world they live in. They can't go visit friends. They don't even HAVE friends other than the people in their same position. Their freedoms have been taken away. They live in their own little world. It's a nice little world, but can you imagine being labeled as they are? Living with restrictions like they do simply because you were sick? Sick with something that 95% of the world is naturally immune to. Something that is hardly contagious. Something that is completely curable. Curable, but you can't afford the treatment for? You are considered nothing. Worthless. An outcast to your own people. Simply because most are uneducated about the disease. They are ignorant to the truth. The social stigmas of Leprosy are so strong.

I've wondered why Leprosy is so much worse in other countries. Why, for instance, there are so many more cases in India then there are in the States. Why we don't hardly hear about it, unless it's somewhere across the ocean. The reason why is sad. Leprosy is 100% curable. It is highly unlikely, if not nearly impossible to catch it through contact with someone infected. The difference between India and the US though, is that we can afford the treatment. In many, many more cases then not, they can't. They cannot afford the meds, but they wouldn't want to go to the Dr about it anyway because once people know you have the disease, you will never be treated the same again. You are considered "cursed by the gods" or "unclean" and people are scared that you will spread it. You become an outcast. By your people. Your friends…your FAMILY. When in reality, the meds are taken for long periods of time, however, even after only a few days of multi-drug treatment patients are rendered non-infectious and they can no longer pass the disease on to others.

People living in third world countries are also at a much higher risk of developing it in the first place because of the very common horrible living conditions. Conditions that compromise their immune function.

I loved spending the morning there. They are amazing people. But every time I introduced myself to someone new, or smiled at a sweet old lady, or hugged one of the kids, or said hello to the grounds' workers, my heart broke a little bit more. It broke because I was reminded of the reality that these people are forgotten. They are invisible in so many ways. There are things I take for granted. Things like touch. Things that seem so simple, but are so important. Things that are part of making life full. Hugs, kisses, someone rubbing my back when I'm sick, someone holding my hand, being touched on the arm. In the society they live in, they do not get that. That fact makes me sad. I loved the joy and smiles that I received just from touching someone's hand. Giving them a hug. Rubbing their arm. But it made me sad that this is so uncommon for them. It made my heart break when it surprised them that I was simply willing to touch them.

Jesus touched. He touched and He loved. We should do the same.

Prem

About a month and a half ago I walked down to Rajpur to try and find a taxi driver. I was trying to find one that I felt good about and would be able to come pick me up from the orphanage on a pretty regular schedule. The "taxi stand" is right in the middle of Rajpur. Everybody parks their taxis and stands there all day just waiting for business. I walked up to a group of guys and explained to them where I wanted to go. Most of them just stared at me. Right as I was beginning to think this was going nowhere, a guy stepped out in front of everyone else and started speaking English. Good English. He introduced himself and said he would be happy to take me. So I went with him.

It's a good 45 min drive out to the orphanage which creates lots of good conversational time. I started asking him where he grew up, if he had a family, where he lives etc. We ended up talking the entire way there. His name is Prem, and he is such a sweet, happy, funny little guy! Always has a smile on his face. Very, very joyful. He is married and has two kids. A son, Ashutosh, 5th grade, and a little girl Nandini, 3rd grade. They live right in Rajpur and their kids go to Moravian Institute. I've been taking public transportation (always an adventure) out to the orphanage and then he comes and picks me up at the end of the day. We've created a great friendship. I've loved getting to know his family a little bit too. His kiddos are fun and his wife is super sweet.

Prem has been teaching me Hindi, which is awesome! He makes me use it, and always says "Buddy (that's what he calls me) do not be afraid to use what I teach you around me. I promise I will not laugh, only correct nicely." I told him I don’t care if he laughs 'cause I probably I would too, but that he for sure has to correct me :) He's very forgiving that's for sure, because I know I completely butcher sentences sometimes.
He told me that he learned all of his English doing business with foreigners over the years as a taxi driver. That's pretty impressive if you ask me-his English is really good.

Over this past month or so we've had some really neat conversations in the car. When you have that much time, opportunities just come up naturally. We've had lots of different conversations about Jesus. I've gotten to tell him what I believe and why I believe it. He's asked me straight up when and why I decided to "become a Jesus follower." He asked me if I was baptized and why, He's asked me why Jesus is so important to me. Talk about huge open doors to walk through! We've been very open with each other about what we believe. I've had the opportunity to explain to him that to me, having a relationship with Jesus is what it's all about, not necessarily all the "religion" that goes with it. It's really sad because foreign "Christians" over the years have brought a bad name to the Rajpur area. Everyone seems to think its all about what you do. You just have to be good enough. It's about the rules and the regulations, not about the love and the relationship.

No one can argue with you when you're talking about what Jesus has done in your life. He asks all kinds of questions about me, my family, why I decided to come to India, etc. which always seem to lead to Jesus. It's been cool.

I asked him last week what he believes. His answer was interesting to me. He said- "buddy, my family is Hindu 100%." He meant his extended family. It was interesting that he didn't really claim it personally. He did, but not completely. He said that his family has always been Hindu, so he grew up that way, therefore he is now Hindu. He is certainly not a devout Hindu, but he claims it when it comes to the important stuff. He's tied to it because his family believes it. I know that he believes it too, but I think deep down in His heart he knows there's something more, he just hasn't found it yet.

On the days that I don't go to JoyBells, I'll usually stop and have Chai with him on my way back down the hill from Chayah at the taxi stand while he waits for business. Learn some Hindi and just hang out.

Both he and his family have become great friends, and I'm excited to keep getting to know them better and better. I went over to their house yesterday to hang out with them and also meet his extended family, which was so much fun! Drank LOTS of chai, ate many a samosa, and had a great time getting to know that family better. They're all so kind and welcoming. It's my goal to spend quite a bit of time with him and his family. I'm trying to be really intentional with them. It's my prayer that they will come to know the truth of Jesus and the love and forgiveness that He offers. My heart wishes more then anything that they would come to know what it's like to be set free. The way only Jesus can do it.

pain unimaginable

When I got to JoyBells on Tuesday, double the amount of kids ran out to meet me than usual. I knew right away the kiddos were back from Ladakh. Thank you, Jesus!! Every single sweet child is back home safe and sound after a 3 day bus ride. They got home on Saturday. It was so good to see them and have all the kids back together again! We had so much fun. They were SO happy to be back home. I think that says a lot about JoyBells orphanage.

Pretty quickly Tuesday left me with a lot to think about. I was trying to process a lot on the ride home that day. There are just some things that I don't think I will ever fully understand this side of heaven.

I got to JoyBells a little bit later then usual and the older kids were already working on some projects. They were doing creative writing type stuff for their English class and were told to write out a story of an event from their lives that occurred within the last month. Most of the older kids were in Ladakh all of last month, and so naturally the majority of them wrote about the flood. All of the kids were scattered around in their different original villages of birth, and so they were all separated. Their stories seemed almost all the same, but also so very, very different. Because they were personal. Most of their stories were unimaginable.

Sitting there looking into the deep brown eyes of an eight year old as he tells me his story, I was hit hard. My heart broke. I'm listening to an eight year old boy tell me about the night of the flood, and what happened at his house. He told me that he woke in the middle of the night to his mom's screams, and a huge wall of water. He told me that he and his mom were both terrified. He told me that his 2 year old sister cried the entire night without stopping. He told me that he was cold and hungry. He told me that he watched helplessly as his grandfather drowned. That he heard his screams as he was pinned under a bed and couldn't get out, but that none of them could reach him. He told me that they had to leave him as he was dying or they would have all died with him. He told me that literally seconds after they ran out of their house it was swept away. He told me that they ran all night long up the mountain to try and find a safe place. He tells me all of this with dry eyes and an expressionless voice. It hit me that this little boy has seen more in his eight years of living then most of us will in a life time. They all have.

I listened to story after story, and I was reminded over and over again about how much these kids have been through. I thought of some of the stories I have heard from Joy about them. They have seen, experienced, lived through; horrific, horrible, unimaginable circumstances, and to them - it's just life. They tell me their stories as if they are no big deal. It's simply just what happened.
Not that they don't care. Not that it doesn't hurt them to the core that they watched their little sister starve to death. Not that they don't have recurring nightmares for five years after watching their mother be murdered and dumped in a river. Not that they don't wish their 62 year old Grandpa was still alive. Not that they don't miss their dad who was run over by a tractor or beat to death. Not that they don't wish away every hungry lonely night that they've lived through. Every beating they have endured. Not that they don't wish that they would have had clothes to wear, or food to eat. But it's just life. It's simply all they've ever known.

Can you imagine? I can't.

For the majority of people that have grown up in the states, life might have been hard and cruel at times, but for most, the worst situation we've ever been in is nothing compared to what so many people know every day.

I still don't know how to put into words what has been going on in my heart since that day. What I was reminded of. What I felt. I still don't even know exactly what all went through my head. I don't even completely know how to process everything that I am feeling yet, but I know I was reminded of a few specific things.

I came away from JoyBells on Tue. with a renewed spirit of thankfulness. TRUE thankfulness. Living in India, you stare death and poverty in the face every day and you are constantly reminded of and thankful for how much you have, but this was different. I think it took things to a deeper level. It became more personal for me. I am so blessed. Beyond blessed. Blessed to be born into the family I have, the wealth, the education, the opportunity, the freedom, the love that I've been given. I was born into a wonderful life. I have a ton. I think I was reminded not just of how thankful I am for my material possessions, but for everything else. The things that really matter.

I was reminded of the fact that God makes all things new. He replaces ashes for beauty. Almost every child at JoyBells has been through more then I can even imagine, but they have come out on the other side even more beautiful. They have pasts that I sometimes choose not to think about, but they are joyful and full of love. They have a home, they have a family, they have love. Most importantly they are growing in Jesus, and the love that HE offers.

I was reminded of the fact that EVERYONE has a story. Everyone has a story and every story has a face. A name.

I was reminded again on Tuesday that sometimes love hurts. But I think it's supposed to. Only when we allow ourselves to be broken, to let it become personal, can we truly love and have compassion. And only when we truly love, can we make a difference.

I could ask the question of why until I die. Why was I born into what I was born into, while so much of this world was born into this? Why was I given so much when so many are without? Why is life so unfair? But instead of asking questions, we are called to act. To be the hands and feet of Jesus. To share. To use our resources to advance the kingdom. To care for the widows and the orphans. To bless others with what we have been blessed with. To be constantly thankful. To not take things for granted. To use what we have been given to create opportunities for others. To live with open hands. To love. Love in the sweet, sweet name of Jesus.

party it up!

A couple weeks ago we were invited to a birthday party for our neighbor's little boy Sahil, who was turning 2. That was quite a cultural experience! We made some cookies to bring and headed down there about 6:30. The last words said as we were walking out the door were- "we'll just go down there for a little while, and then eat dinner when we get back. I can't imagine it will take that long." Let's just say things went a little longer then we expected.

They had decorated their whole little house with balloons and streamers, music was boomin', and everybody was in party mode. After singing and Sahil blowing out his candles, they handed him a huge candle and helped (forced) him to hold it up to a big balloon above his head. He was terrified of it, and his terrified expression turned into screaming and crying as soon as the balloon popped. They popped it over his head, and glitter and confetti flew everywhere. That's how the party began. They then handed the newly 2 year old a sharp knife to cut the cake. Hmm, dangerous? I say yes. We sat under their piece of sheet metal that acts as a front porch; with chickens and dogs running around everywhere, laughing, eating a little bit of (nasty) cake, and just hanging out for a while. Not really saying much, because neither of us knows the others language.

Then the dancing began.

I SO wish we would have recorded it, and I had a video to put up here for you to see. You need a visual-words simply will not do it justice. But I shall try…
It was one of the funniest things I have ever seen! Mel and I were laughing so hard we were almost crying. They looked completely and totally ridiculous. For the most part it was just Telock-17 and Sahil's dad-about 19 or 20. They did a mix of music including some Michael Jackson, Hindi hip hop, Nepali, and a little more Michael Jackson. I've never seen anything quite like it before….I can't even describe it to you, except hilarious. They were certainly bustin' some moves. Imagining them doing the same thing at an American club, or something of the sort, just made me laugh harder. It was pretty funny.

The boys ran around with Serjin and had a great time. It rained the whole evening and they had a blast jumping in mud puddles with cookies in hand. The homemade whiskey was brought out after a while. Poor Dave got stuck drinking quite a bit of it, after Mel and I said no thanks (1st time to ever be offered a glass of whiskey). They also brought out some bowls of some sort of chicken. They wouldn't eat it, but clearly were excited to offer it to us. I guarantee you there is at least one less chicken running around their house after that night.

After about an hour and a half Mel brought the boys back home to feed, bathe, and put to bed. Dave and I stayed down there because the party was clearly far from over and they had asked us to eat with them. As the night went on, more and more people kept showing up. After a couple more hours of dancing (yes, we DID dance with them some) and hanging out, we finally ate. It was almost 10 before they started bringing the food out. When we finally ate, they didn't even eat with us. It's just cultural to serve your guests first, but it was a bummer they wouldn’t eat with us. The other bummer about that, is the fact that they then sat there and watched us eat it all. Meaning there was no way around eating the food and drinking the water that we probably really shouldn't have been eating or drinking. We just smiled and prayed we wouldn't get sick :) They served us SO MUCH food! They served each of us a hot chili along with our meal, and I bravely ate mine whole. When they saw I didn't have one, I was blessed with hot chili #2. I told them I had already eaten one, and proceeded to show them how with the 2nd. Have I mentioned, I'm not a big fan of chilis? They are H.O.T.! I was definitely stuffed to the brim, and hiding chicken in my pockets because I could not bring myself to eat another bite.

All in all we can came home happy, partly relieved, wet, tired, and very culturally "filled" for the night. It was a good experience.






Doesn't the bday boy look so happy??