Mommy is busy...

There is a thick, aromatic tomato and beef pasta sauce simmering on the stove and bread dough rising on the counter.  I'm a blur in my floral (thrift-store) vintage apron, stirring, kneading, sweeping, and snatching up my toddler to keep him from trying to "help" me... again.  Kids are busy and filling my home with noise and activity - one child playing her favorite song (for the 30th time today) on the piano, another child galloping around the living room and girls running back and forth as they prepare a tea party in the back yard.

My four year old rushes up to me, so excited: "Mommy, Mommy..." no response: "Mommy, come see!!!"  he gushes, and pulls on my apron, getting right in my way as I'm scampering back and forth between oven and pantry and adding a "pinch of this and a dash of that" to the sauce on the stove.

"Honey," I sigh, lovingly yet hurried, "You have to wait! Mommy is busy making supper."

And he waits and waits... and my work is never quite completed and something always comes up: like the two year old, escaping from the house (again!), or some of the kids are fighting and I have to figure out how to deal with the bickering and teach them to be loving, patient and kind!

I do my best to take good care of my children... but I am not the best example of attentiveness on planet earth.  And tonight, I had a rare chance - without children tugging on my jeans and clamoring for my attention - to enjoy a worship service at my church.  I was basking in the love and kindness of God and it occurred to me that although he has a planet-full of people to attend to, He never says "I'm busy right now... You'll have to wait for my attention."  God is supernatural... He is God.... and His attention never wanes and He does not grow weary with our requests.  Ps. 55:17 in the Message says: "At dusk, dawn, and noon I sigh deep sighs - he hears, he rescues." and Psalm 34:15 (NIV) says:

"The eyes of the LORD are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their cry".

I take heart in a God who is not limited by human nature and abilities.  He isn't worn out, too busy or too stressed out to listen to me - whether I'm asking for help or simply rejoicing and giving thanks.  I can only hope that as I experience and absorb the goodness and character of God, that I will display more of His attributes as I care for the little lives with whom He has entrusted me.

7 Days In India - Day 5 - One Night In Agra

It was mid-afternoon and having just completed the sewing school graduation, we were all feeling quite worn out.  The hurry and intensity of the last few days in a strange culture were catching up to us.  Since we had checked into our hotel in the morning, we were dropped off at the door and trudged our way up the stairway, confirmed the time that we would have to meet again before leaving, and locked ourselves into our separate hotel rooms.

For the price we paid, it seemed that this was supposed to be a "nicer" hotel, yet the white bedspread was stained and the bathroom was not very clean.  It made us realize what a luxury it was to be staying in the home of the pastors, back in Delhi - there was nothing very homey or comfortable about this tile-floored stark white room.  The one bonus was that we had a balcony that looked out onto the hotel's lawn, but even that had a downside since each hotel room's balcony was connected and I immediately wondered about people looking in our room or knocking at our exterior door in the middle of the night.  So much for feeling safe and secure.

Our room had a television, and feeling the need for some down time, we flipped through the channels... In typical Asian fashion, there appeared to be a lot of day-time "soap operas" and despite their bizarre plot lines (as best as we could understand with the language barrier) I soon drifted off to sleep.  After a brief nap, I awoke to the sound of Dan groaning as he lay on the bed next to me, and he didn't look so good!

 "What's wrong?"  I asked with concern.

"I don't feel very good" he said, with one hand on his stomach and an arm thrown across his face to block out the light.

I realized at that point that I also had a strange percolating, gurgling sensation in my stomach.  It felt all acidly inside - but not too much... just a slightly uncomfortable feeling.  So far, we had remained quite healthy during our trip.  The infamous "Delhi belly" had yet to assault our bowels and the food had caused no problems for us.  It was nearly time for us to get dressed and ready for the special church service, so we decided to knock on Steve and Kindra's door and see how they were faring.

Apparently, Dan was not the only one feeling a little bit "off".  Kindra's skin was more pale than usual, and she confirmed that she also was feeling a bit of "indigestion".  We talked for a few moments, going over what we had eaten that day and we soon narrowed it down to the fresh bits of onion and cucumber that were served alongside our delicious Tikka Chicken earlier that day.  So much for the adventure of dining on our own!  No wonder the pastor had been sheltering us so much during our stay - we rarely got the chance to eat out, and it was never ever at a roadside stall.  Far too many times, we would be driving down the road and some delicious scent would assault my nostrils... somosas or curry or something that I had never experienced before.  But we were sternly admonished to stay away from these places, at risk of serious illness!  Now, the very restaurant that we had been sent to for lunch may be the culprit for our stomach troubles.

If there is anything that I learned back in the days of my much tamer youth "mission trips", it is that when it comes to ministry, you must persevere.  There is no sense in letting the short time go to waste, no matter how badly you are feeling.  So there was no question in our minds about the schedule that evening - no changes would be made - we would go "on with the show" as they say.

We all got dressed and headed downstairs to the lobby to search for our driver who was supposed to be meeting us.  He walked up to us on the hotel's driveway and motioned for us to follow him across the street where he was parked.  Stepping outside the hotel's gates, I was once again reminded of the intensity of this culture - people absolutely everywhere, garbage on the ground and the dust and dirt clinging to every tree, brick, and the sidewalk.  Then there was the unusual combination of cars, rickshaws, motorcycles, bicycles, horse-and-cart, the occasional camel and the ever-present stray cows and water buffalo that shared this street.  Just before I was going to walk across, I jumped back, startled and realized that I had to look the opposite way for oncoming traffic!  Not only that, but we were in a society where the rule "pedestrians have the right-of-way" was non-existent!  Instead, it was our responsibility to find a gap in the traffic and weave our way through the chaotic traffic. Fortunately, this was a less busy street than many we had seen, and we managed to cross over to the vehicle safely!  What an adventure...and this was just us trying to get into our taxi!

We drove down some narrow side streets and were approaching what appeared to be dead end in the road, with a high wall at the end of our path in a fairly isolated area.  To be perfectly honest, at this time I started to become quite nervous and wondered just where this driver was taking us!  For all we knew, we could be taken to a deserted area to be robbed - everything felt so unfamiliar and we weren't being accompanied by anyone from the church so we couldn't even communicate with our driver!  I silently prayed for safety as the vehicle lurched around potholes and slowed as it neared the wall and vacant lot.  Suddenly, the driver took a left turn, and then sped his way through a narrow underpass which I could now see was a shortcut under the highway.  With a sigh of relief, I turned to my fellow Canadian passengers and admitted quietly: "I was getting a little concerned for a moment..."

One of them nodded and said that they had experienced similar thoughts, but now we were in an obviously populated area once again and we didn't seem to be lost... so we had to assume that we would see the church soon!  I think this is where I realized how much of an effect the lack of sleep and the stress of so many new situations was wearing on me!  We were in such a foreign environment and experiencing so many new things that it was difficult to relax and trust that everything would work out smoothly.  I think also, it was the lack of control over the situation - it felt as though anything unexpected could happen, and we had so little understanding of the culture around us so any problem that arose would be difficult to handle.  I suppose that these feelings are all part of the complete experience of a mission trip - prayer and trust in God is of necessity!

It wasn't much longer before the vehicle slowed down and the driver honked the horn at the gate of a building.  Smiling, friendly people opened the gate and came out to greet us, and at once we knew that all was well!  We hopped out of the vehicle and said "goodbye" to our driver, whom we would see the next day for our sightseeing excursion.  Once again, it was such a comfort to leave the chaotic, unfamiliar and dirty world that surrounded us and enter into another safe and peaceful haven.  There was such an obvious difference as soon as you were within the church complex - it was quiet, calm and comforting.

That evening we had the privilege of joining in a special church service that was planned specifically for our visit.  Steve and I played some of our music from our home church, The Gate, and Dan (my hubby) preached a message of encouragement, with the aide of a translator.  Afterwards, the people were invited up for prayer, and it was up to our team to help minister to them!  We prayed for sick people, people with struggling businesses and even for a woman who was of the Hindu religion, who had just come to "check us out" and see what the church offered.  We also prayed for a young man who was wanting to be married and was waiting for his parents to pick the right bride.  It really was a privilege to join our faith together with these people, who opened their hearts to us in trust.  Not only that, but you could tell just how important they deemed the power of prayer - they stood expectantly and you could really sense the presence of God as we prayed.

After the service we were treated to another amazing home cooked dinner, this time made by Pastor John's wife.  We were seated around the table, along with Pastor J and several dishes with enormous mounds of food were placed in front of us.  I felt my stomach clench a little at the idea of more curry, but unlike my companions, I didn't feel sick -just not very hungry, so despite my lack of an appetite, I filled my plate with slightly smaller than normal portions.  Kindra, on the other hand, was obviously feeling quite ill yet was trying to hide it from our generous hosts.  She politely spooned a tiny amount of each dish onto her plate and I watched as she nibbled reluctantly on her child-sized servings.  At one point Pastor John looked at her and said "You need to eat more food!" and Kindra apologetically explained that she was harboring an upset stomach.

Despite the hospitable nature of our new friends, I found myself yawning through the conversation that cheerfully filled the room.  It had been an exceptionally long day... from waking early to catch a train in Delhi, to our visit to the Dalit school, and the evening at the church; it felt as though we had filled the day with enough activity and new experiences for several weeks!  Fortunately, our hosts were understanding and before too long, we were driven back to our hotel so we could get some sleep.

Of course, to be expected, we encountered another blaring expression of Indian culture when we arrived at our hotel.  Loud music blared as we approached the hotel's lobby... apparently there was a wedding in the banquet hall that evening and we would be treated to the obnoxiously loud rhythms of Hindi wedding music as we attempted to fall asleep!  Thankfully, the music wasn't too loud once we were locked in our bedroom.  And at least it provided continuous melodic background noise that we could attempt to tune out once we collapsed onto our bed.

I climbed between the crisp, cool sheets and tried in vain to smush down my overly large pillow.  My mind was reeling with all the experiences of this day, and the previous few days.  It seemed like we had been away from Canada for a month, and after our jam-packed schedule, not only was my body tired, but I was nearing emotional exhaustion.  As I was thinking of all the beautiful children and the generous sewing school girls whom I'd been so touched by, I dozed off to sleep despite the party that was carrying on in the hotel.  It was time to rest my body and my mind in preparation for just a few more days of adventure.

Little children from the Dalit school, praying.

7 Days In India - Day 4

Sunday, November 27

Time was going by so quickly - and we hardly had time to think about home and our kids because we were so busy, seeing and experiencing so many new things.  It really felt like we were on a different planet - or as if we were living in a documentary.  Everything was just so different from our usual lives, and there was always something that would surprise us or overwhelm us or capture our emotions...  That's why it was nice that it was Sunday.  It was a day of rest, a day that would be more familiar, spending time in God's house with people whom we might not know very well, but who would welcome us as part of God's family.

Yet it would not all be familiar and normal this Sunday morning... for starters, the first morning service would be in Hindi!

I don't think I mentioned before, but one of the neat things about where were were staying was that the Pastor's home and the church and Bible school were all on one property, surrounded by a large brick wall.  Along with the Bible college students, a couple other families lived on the property, all committed to the cause of the ministry.  Again, as I've mentioned, there was such an enormous difference in atmosphere once you entered the gates of the complex - the mess was gone, the hurry and chaos was gone and there was a peace and beauty that filled the air.  So it was really nice to be able to simply walk over to the church building rather than battle the insane traffic just before the morning service started.

We walked into the sanctuary, and seated on 3 long rugs, in rows of 2, were all of the girls from the orphanage.  Every Sunday morning, they transported the girls here to take part in the worship service.  We waved and smiled at them, and a few of them shyly smiled back.  Being the guests of honor (which still felt rather strange to me), we were seated front and center.  The building began to fill up with beautiful brown people (I don't mean that rudely, at all!) and the worship team took their place on stage.  Right away, there was such a rich, vibrant, joyous tone to the music!  It was impossible not to clap and attempt to sing along - even thought the words were in Hindi. But occasionally, they used "hallelujah" in their songs, which made it a little easier for us white folks!

As a church, they obviously had a close knit community.  They asked who was having a  birthday or anniversary that week, and prayed for those individuals.  They spent time praying for their nation and it's political leaders and prayed with great zeal and gusto.  As planned, Steve and I came up during the offering and performed a song - one that had been written by someone in our church.  The people seemed to enjoy the different flavor of music. Then it came time for us to be welcomed and introduced, and they called the four of us up onto the stage.  Once again, we were honored with each of us being given a beautiful bouquet of roses.  The Pastor introduced us as "a wonderful team from Canada" and then all but Dan exited the stage and the tag-team preaching/translation began.

It only further enhanced the feeling of being in another world to spend so much time listening to a language that we didn't understand, but somehow, we didn't feel entirely out of place in that Hindi service.  After a short break, the English service began, and we enjoyed the opportunity to share in the lives of Christian brothers and sisters from the other side of the world!

We were given the opportunity to pray for people afterwords, and as they came with open hearts, asking God for strength and hope in response to Dan's message, we felt our hearts melting at the obvious struggles that these believers faced.  It wasn't difficult to commiserate with them, and to share in their suffering as we asked for God's grace upon their lives.  But most of all, it was an honor to join with them in faith, as we believed for God to move in their lives and, by association, India as well.

One thing I noticed was an abundance of warmth and openness among the people we met.  It seems that hospitality is a way of life for Indians, and we were greeted with smiling faces all throughout the church.  One older woman came up to me after the service and grabbed onto my hand, saying "I just had to meet the mother of 6 children!"  She had a huge grin on her face and told me how that (lots of kids) is the way it used to be... and that she came from a large family.  I just smiled, not knowing exactly what to say, but enjoying her enthusiasm.

Before we knew it, our work was done and yet another milestone had been crossed off the list of ministry work to do on this trip.  Somehow, we Canadians, for all of our country's typical apathy and lethargy, were able to be a blessing to this congregation in India.  One of the most poignant moments of this Sunday however, had occurred in the peaceful, heavy atmosphere of prayer that took place before the first morning service.  It was difficult to not feel a sense of uselessness here in India - that our problems back in Canada were paltry and lame and merely symptoms of extreme self-centeredness.

Then I felt the Holy Spirit speak to my heart.  First, I felt Him telling me that I was born in North America on PURPOSE.  It was God's plan, His will, and His design for me to born in a more affluent nation.  In that plan, he has a purpose and destiny for me to operate within my surroundings.  Here is something that rang clear and true in my heart, and I wrote it down in that morning prayer meeting:

We can come to a desolate place, like the slums, and feel such a need to impart destiny and vision in to the lives of these people.  While that is necessary and true, I would say that the great deception is in the fact that our churches in North America are filled with people lacking true destiny and purpose.  We have been deceived into believing that our destiny is to have a 9-to-5 job, a nice home and family, and to attend a comfortable, affirming church.

What a dismal, uninspired destiny... God has so much more for us!

 

Relationship Rescue

One day, while sitting in the emergency waiting room with my unhappy, crying preschooler who had a terrible earache, I witnessed a parade of newbie med students walking through the ward.  The majority of them were women, most with a professional, intelligent demeanor as they visually scanned the waiting room and were given a tour of the surrounding area.  I happened to be the only parent with a hurting child waiting to see a doctor, and my little girl is definitely a precious, heart-melting sight on any given day - but this time, she appeared even more endearing with her pouty lip sticking out sadly, mussed up wavy hair and crocodile tears occasionally dripping down a cheek as she whimpered with her head against my chest.  As I observed the med students, one in particular made eye contact and noticed my unhappy little girl.  I immediately saw the heart-felt empathy on her face and could sense the desire within her to help as compassion practically radiated from her, across the room.

After the group passed through the room on their introduction to the world of hands-on-medicine, I shook my head slightly in disbelief, finding myself thinking of how naive this young intern was to actually think that being a doctor would be all about helping the precious, hurting little children.  Even as I looked around the waiting room, it was quite obvious to me that the greatest proportion of people waiting to see a doctor could by no means be described as "cute".  In fact, some of them looked downright ugly and belligerent.  I guess what I saw in that waiting room represented long, grueling hours of work that may not always be very rewarding.  It was a duty that needed to be preformed by some intelligent and sympathetic human being, but being exposed to the continual suffering of others (and trying to heal the damages caused by the wrongful actions of others) - well, that would be enough to toughen or harden anyone's heart!  This young intern was so sweet... but she'd have to wise up - that was my initial analysis.

Admittedly, my thoughts were rather pessimistic in this situation.  It is actually kind of sad that such harsh judgement rose up in my mind, with little provocation.  I know however, that as the Bible says in Luke 6:45, "out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks" or in this case: "the mind thinks".  So I was left to wonder what sort of beliefs and attitudes are inside me that would cause me to think in such a manner.

My role as a wife and parent have often become worn down with the seemingly never-ending sacrifices and all-around hard work involved in these relationships.  Ideally, like the young med student, we look at marriage and think of all the pleasantries - breakfast in bed, strolling around the park hand-in-hand and staring longingly into each others eyes.  We don't consider the times of balancing the bankbook and tightening the budget, picking up the balled-up socks off of the floor every day, and the times when all your spouse does is annoy you.  We can also look at parenthood with similar optimism; thinking of cuddles and coos, tender-moments and heart-felt talks, while dismissing the idea of broken dishes, loud and obnoxious noises, rude behavior and all-around ungratefulness.

Imagine living in a home where you spend all your time working: in the kitchen cooking and washing dishes, in the laundry room cleaning endless piles of clothes, and your time spent in all the other rooms is pretty much work related, unless you happen to be sleeping.  Day after day, you pass by the comfy couches with their fluffy pillows, ignoring the family members that may be lounging there - except to inform them to lift their feet when you are trying to maneuver the broom or mop past them.  Living in a house while never taking advantage of the place of rest and relaxation would be quite ridiculous, yet many of us are so busy in life that we can probably relate in some part.  I'd like to take this analogy, however, and  compare it to how we can treat our relationships with God.

I've spent the last few years stuck in a rut of duty and service.  I'm not saying that I've lost my love for the Lord in any way, but I seem to have come to a place where I engage in more of a business relationship with Him.  Come to think of it, this is similar to the frustrations I feel as I relate to my family members as well - I'm apt to focus on all the stuff I must do, and forget about the relationship part.  When I mentioned living in a house, where you never take advantage of the "living room" - the place of rest - I was originally thinking of how this relates to our experience with God.  We can become so busy, serving Him, and working hard to do His will, yet never find ourselves in that place of restful communion with Him.

I communicate with God on a regular basis; lifting up prayer requests whenever something crosses my mind - but I've found that there is a lot less true worship coming from my lips. When you drift from a close relationship, I think one of the first things to go is typically praise, adoration and affection.  You just don't feel like it any longer because you are either frustrated, hurt or simply too busy and preoccupied.  Taking a look at my own relationship with the Lord, I'm being honest when I say I've become quite preoccupied.  My heart has desired to do the right thing - and it's not that I've been running from Him - but all that "stuff" that has to be done, although good and worthwhile, is really good at getting in the way of my worship and prayer life.  I think it is no coincidence that Psalm 91:1 coins the term "secret place of the Most High" when referring to being in God's presence.  Anyone can come to the house of the Lord, and enter into salvation.  Not everyone learns to seek Him and find Him in his secret place.

Back to the idea of the young intern at the hospital.  What she really wants to do is practice medicine, and focus on the people whom she needs to treat.  She looks at the hurting individual, and wants to show care and concern, while providing healing.  My pessimism was focused on the long, grueling hours; crowded emergency rooms and lack of qualified professionals to spend "quality", personal time with each patient.  This is the unfortunate reality of our over-stressed medical system.

Thankfully, our relationships don't quite have to work that way.  I know that regarding my relationship with God, there are specific answers to dealing with all the "stuff" and busyness of this life.  Matthew 11:28-30 depicts what life should be like if we are truly following Jesus.

Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

When we make Him our priority, and refrain from making all the tasks and duties our priority, we will find true rest for our souls.  Is it hard to be a Christian and follow all the teachings of the Bible?  Unequivocally, "YES!".  However, it shouldn't be hard to simply come to Jesus and learn from Him.  Out of the relationship springs obedience.  Additionally, out of real relationship, we learn what is actually important, and what we should be laying down.

To the same degree, this concept is quite verifiable in our family relationships.  The reason you marry someone is not so you can be "great roommates" and help each other with the menial tasks and split the rent bill.  We get married because of the relationship... because we love to commune with that person and tell them our hopes and fears.   The same goes for children.  Although to some it may appear that I had lots of kids so they could do all the housework for me, and take care of me when I become old and weary... well, the truth is, I had lots of kids because I look forward to the wonderful years ahead of us as we grow our relationship from merely parent and child to friends.

This has become another one of those posts where I show you the ugliness inside my heart.  I guess that's what happens when you're human... I'm working on it though, and I hope that I've encouraged all the other "hard working, duty-driven, task-focused individuals" to take a long, honest look at what drives you.  

Sometimes, we're better off deleting our un-ending "To Do" lists, and just learn to BE... It means you spend a lot more time sitting and listening.  It means you take the time to remember what drew you to the relationship in the first place.  Whether your struggle is in your marriage, with your kids or with God (or...all three), I think the healing begins when you're willing to sink into the comfy couch and just STOP.