“How people feel when they are returning home from an absence, long or short, I did not know: I had never experienced the sensation.” - Jane Eyre.

A few months ago, I would have said returning home makes me feel “relaxed, ready to veg out, refreshed, always glad to be there.” Now, the answer’s not so simple. I am asking the question, am I even home? Where is home? If it’s where I grew up, then, that’s in Alabama. That doesn’t really feel like home anymore. It feels like a place I used to live, remember fondly and enjoy visiting mainly for the people.

If home is my house, can it really be home if I’m selling my furniture and packing things away in boxes? My once-cozy solace is upside down with boxes, moving and disappearing furniture, a stack of blankets that I’m not sure what to do with, and empty spaces.

If it’s where Harry is, I don’t really feel like we get much time together these days. We’re both working on our own details most of the time right now out of necessity. It’s just a season to pass through for a greater end, but it isn’t an easy one.

But, if home is where God has called me to be, then I guess I’m there. Preparing to sell the only house the married me has known and some furniture and other things–just stuff, but symbolic of a huge life change. Moving toward our South Asian calling in the only way we know how, trusting God to provide the details, finances, and emotional stability to live life abundantly along the way.  And we’re thankful for the opportunity to remember to long for a home that we don’t know yet, something we don’t quickly remember when we’re comfortable and settled.

Here in this part of South Asia, “the village” is synonymous with “the country.” Even though we went to several villages with different names that were all part of a larger district, they would say we went to “the village.” So, we went to the village this weekend in the next state over. And like the country it has a slower pace with many more open spaces and lots of friendlier faces.

We played the national passtime “chicken” with our car for about 4 hours to get there on roads–some dirt, some paved, some barely long enough for two vehicles–in a land without rest areas. A car would honk and refuse to move. A bus would be in the wrong lane or trying to pass another bus on a bridge big enough for one a half cars. But we made it.

We helped celebrate the opening of a sewing center for the women to use for sewing and incidentally for the sharing of the gospel. These people really know how to welcome someone. We were greeted as we stepped out of our cars with a crowd of people happy to see us. A brightly-colored tent was set up and it seemed like everyone had a smile and handshake for us. If that wasn’t enough, we were asked to sit on stage as guests of honor in chairs while everyone else sat on the floor. And if THAT wasn’t enough, we were given flower necklaces to put around our necks that reached to our thighs and shawls to wrap around us. It was humbling and even a little uncomfortable to be treated like this. Why us?

After the sewing center ceremony, we went to another village to lead a program that included skits, songs and speaking–all flavored with the gospel. It was dark; people were sitting on the ground; the speakers were hand-made; and we had to use interpreters. But looking at the faces of these people, you would have see nothing but happiness. At the end, we offered to pray for the people in a village that has a history of violence to Christians. Many came forward for prayers that they could not understand from people they did not know. But God knows.

On Sunday morning, we did a program for about 600 kids. It was amazing to see their faces light up as we sang, performed skits and shared the gospel through an interpreter. I offered smiles to the girls, praying that God would provide for them in a culture that doesn’t cherish girls and sometimes disposes of them. We did the hokey pokey. And at the end, they danced to traditional music and invited us to join them, as if to say, “We’ll show you the hokey pokey!”

I wish I could tell you the names of these villages or the people in them, but know that God has know them from the beginning. Please take a moment and pray that He will reveal Himself as the One, True God to these people who worship many gods and whose eyes have been blinded to the truth.

Two buses trying to get across a bridge that's too small!

The sewing center building, filled with people to celebrate its opening.

Harry and I being showered with flowers and shawls.

Harry talking and praying with some guys in one of the villages.

Harry being arrested (by a former police officer) in one of the skits.

One of our team members leading worship to the crowd of children.

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It depends on who you ask, or which storefront you’re looking at.

We celebrated the opening of a sewing center in one of the villages nearby this weekend. So, for the occasion, we turned it up a notch and the women wore saris. I actually had to be assisted to get dressed and the blouse-piece was tailored just for me. It made me feel like I was getting married again or something. And, I actually felt quite pretty when all was said and done.

And the fun begins!

The kind lady assisting me and my friend Carole was the receptionist at the hotel. It seemed effortless to her, but I was amazed!

All those yards of fabric somehow become a dress!

The finished product

Pre-coffee Harry and I waiting for our breakfast.

It just so happens that it was Independence Day when we were there. So, at breakfast we were given the flags to wear.

I was born with a condition called “picky eater.” Not very conducive for international travel. So, I’ve had to adapt and try new things. In high school I didn’t like lasagna, Chinese food, or asparagus–among many other things. Now, I love them.

Masala dosas and cucumber chutney are way out of my comfort zone. (Masala Dosas are yummy, by the way. Thanks for the tip, Rays!) But so is traveling to South Asia for two weeks. And walking around a Hindu temple without my shoes on. And wearing some traditional clothing of a country foreign to me.

I am in a country where the recurring question in my mind is, do I do this because I’m a Christian or because I’m Western or American? Do I judge this behavior that I observe because it’s wrong or because I’m just not used to seeing it? I think it’s an important question to ask because it isn’t my job to make anyone Western. I can’t even make anyone a Christian. Is it wrong for me to pay for something that supports a religion that I believe to be false when it may help me understand the culture a little more? Is it wrong for someone to urinate publicly on the sidewalk, or as the general public here believes, is it wrong for me to watch someone urinate on the sidewalk?  What things are necessary for safety and health and what things are just conveniences? It’s a question I might not have asked if I hadn’t come here.

We got to go to a local church this morning and it was really great. What an encouragement to the soul to worship with believers from another culture who sincerely love the Lord and share your desire to make Him known! We met believers from Cambridge, Chile, South Asia, and Africa. I kept thinking, “every tribe and tongue!” How beautiful!