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.

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.

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.

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!

Harry updated www.soulinprocess.com today, too.

We enjoyed experiencing the city today and are still processing, of course. No one’s lying when they say there are cows in the middle or side of the road, traffic is rule-challenged, and idols can be found everywhere. But there is beauty here.

I would say the weirdest thing so far is sleeping with the windows open (to keep the air flowing) at night and listening to the sounds of the city. You know, the usual: car horns honking and honking, dogs barking, cows mooing. And of course, the rooster crowing to signal the construction crews to begin their work. Every city of 5 million people or more has roosters, right?

Our day ended with yummy local cuisine, sweet lime soda, finger bowls and sweet friends.  We are thankful for good health and stamina and for the one true God who is not limited by a people of idols in all their many forms.

This juice is NOT for drinking, but it IS for travel to South Asia.

When you begin to pursue living in a foreign land answering a call to do work that seems made for you, inevitably a myriad of obstacles rear their ugly heads. Some of these we have already seen God toss aside in that way only a sovereign God can do. Planning a trip to visit said city with very minimal effort in two months or less, for instance. Others are just now becoming real for us.

Some of them are painful, emotionally draining, and seem insurmountable. And in our strength, they surely are insurmountable. And we want to give up at times. But we choose not to give up. We choose to fight and continue trusting in the One who created the world and gave us life. To press on toward the goal of godliness in whatever path it takes to get there.

I know that sometimes God allows us to encounter obstacles to reveal more of Himself and no other reason. I just pray that we will continue to see God at work even in what we think of as obstacles.

One thing I know. God is not limited by our obstacles.

So, we wait and see. And pray. Please, Lord, keep us prayerful.

Cornelius Plantinga said, “Human sin is stubborn, but not as stubborn as the grace of God and not half so persistent, not half so ready to suffer to win its way.”

I think this is so beautiful!  I’m not even sure what to say in response to it.  I just read it over and over again and am amazed by the concept of the grace of God being “stubborn.”  But I look back at my own life, and what do I see?  Persistent stubbornness throughout every season.

When I go weeks without spending quality time in the Word, how do I eventually come back to it?  When I can’t see His work in my life because I’m so focused on myself and the perceived injustice to me, how do I eventually find my way back to acknowledging God?  When I am empty and don’t even know what to pray, how do I eventually run to the Truth?  God’s sweet, persistent nudging.   Because He loves me, He doesn’t leave me to my sin forever.  He cares for me so much that He won’t stop until He has stripped away the things that keep me from being the person He will have me to be.

This quote reminds me of a time in my life when I didn’t have the clarity of mind or the bravery to make the changes that needed to be made.  Although it may not have been obvious to those around me, I was living sinfully in my heart, pursuing my own pleasure at whatever cost.  My prayers were seemingly sincere and wholly selfish.  This season brought some of the most intense pain I’ve ever felt, as God removed someone from my life–never to return.  God’s grace was all that was left in this dark place.  It was during this time that I experienced needing the Word in a desperate way–just to wake up in the morning–for the first time in my life.  What mercy it was!

In the end, my faith was stronger, my love for God greater, my understanding of His faithfulness clearer, my awareness of my need for Him heightened.  Why?  Because I was a “good” Christian?  Because I hadn’t done anything really bad?  Because I prayed “enough”?  No.    Because God pursued me stubbornly and persistently.  So, I would have to agree with Mr. Plantinga.  Indeed, praise God that He is so much greater than our sin!

Any thoughts on this quote?  Let me know what you think.