Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Plah-steek


One of the most striking things about Kolkata is the poverty. Naked children run around everywhere. Beggars are at every turn. You stop to buy a cold bottled coke (a luxury on a mission trip to Kolkata) ignorantly doling out 70 rupees for this treat. When you turn, you realize that a crowd has gathered. They stand with piercing eyes, hands out, mumbling “money …. baby” and gesturing to the baby on their hip (her head covered with scabs and skin rash).
Before and during travel to India, you are reminded of why not to give to beggars. Here in India, most beggars have a “handler” (a pimp of sorts). Someone who really gets the measly coin we offer. Often the child on the hip doesn’t even belong to the beggar but is another way to up sell the need. If you give once, you’ll be targeted and pressured harder and to give more the next time. If you give a packaged product (food or otherwise) the handler will resell it and keep the money. All very good reasons not to give which also become a barrier to any real connection. There is also a sort of scale of giving:
• Women earn more than men
• Children earn more than women
• A child with some disability or disfigurement earns more than anyone
So, in India, you use who you can to get what you want from them. If you are a man you are not likely to earn much as a beggar so why not find some woman who owes you a debt, stick a baby on her hip and let her earn twice as much as you could.
There are many reasons not to give to beggars in Kolkata.
I KNOW all these things with my head. It’s my heart that stumbles over it.
A family of beggars lived outside the Baptist Mission Society where we stayed for our visit to Kolkata. Day after day we would return to the BMS for air condition, running water and rest from the day. Day after day we would see the same family begging; a grandmother, her pregnant daughter, and four small children.
On the third day of our trip, we’d just come from shopping in an upscale department store. We had packed lightly intending to buy appropriate clothes from the outdoor market there but because of a holiday, the market had been closed and we were running ‘low on clothes’. I returned with two small plastic bags and hopped out of the cab to be greeted by this family. One of the boys came to take a peek at what I had purchased. At first, I thought he was asking for my clothes. Then I realized he was saying “plastic” (which came out plah-steek). I took my clothes out of my bags and handed the bags over to the two oldest children.
No coins. No food. Just two small plastic bags and my relationship with this family was sealed. The smallest girl ran over and grabbed my legs. She clung to me until I picked her up. Every day after this, the family greeted me as if I were family. The boys would walk with me hand in hand to the end of the block each morning and when we returned at night, the mother and grandmother greeted us with huge smiles and hugs – never asking for another thing. The hugs turned into choppy conversations where I was able to tell them over and over, “Jesus loves you” and to show the love of Christ by my willingness to be present and genuine.
Matthew 25:36-40 says, “ ‘For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' "Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' "The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'
I didn’t read anything in there about plastic bags, but I know the difference it made for me in Kolkata. And I know that there are a million reasons (sometimes very legitimate reasons) not to give to the poor but I also know that Jesus said, “Whatever you do to the least of these . . .” and I know the blessing of giving two plastic bags and sharing the love of Jesus.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

God Answers Prayers We Don't Even Know We're Praying


Sometime in early to mid December I was riding in the car by myself. I have no idea how it happened or where the boys were - but I know I was alone because I was praying and was able to hear God.

You know how prayers sort of leap from your heart without you realizing it sometimes? Well, that's what happened this day. I remember my heart saying, "I would like to go on a mission trip". Jake and I were able to go to NJ a couple of years ago on a mission trip and we are involved in many ministries locally, but I have a real passion for overseas missions and have not had opportunities to cultivate that since having children.

Jake and I met because of a mission trip to Belize in 2003. We both went again in 2004, after having been married for only 3 months. So, it seemed logical that Jake and I would go somewhere together to serve. What was illogical was how we would do it. Because of the economy and other factors, Jake lost his job in late 2009. So this prayer was completely irrational! We had dipped into some savings in order to weather through the months without income so the thought of us both going somewhere seemed impossible to me.

But my heart spoke up and prayed this prayer anyway. Maybe it was really the Spirit interceding for me with groans too deep to understand . . . but there it was before God.

After the prayer, I thought, "How irrational? There is no way we can go somewhere, we just don't have the money."

Then I heard God. "If I call you to go somewhere, I will provide."

And you KNOW He will if He says He will!

Later that week, I was at the ELC and a friend came in talking about some gifts she'd found to give for Christmas. I asked her about them and she didn't really remember the details but she said, "All I know is a business called Freeset gets women in India to make the bags so they don't have to sell their bodies."

An hour later, Tiffany came in and handed me my Christmas gift - it was a really cute jute bag with wooden handles. I glanced at the tag and saw the words, "Freeset". The bag is so cute! But I didn't really have time to read the card because I needed to run upstairs to do some copying and laminating.

When I got upstairs, I saw Jeremy Griem pass by. Jeremy is the Global Ministries Pastor at our church and an old friend from seminary. I called out, "Jeremy, please keep me in mind for any overseas trips you have coming up" (still realizing it would be impossible for us to go).

Jeremy came back into the workroom and said, "You know there is an all women's trip coming up to go to India to work with Freeset".

He told me about how in a Sonagachi (a Red Light District in Calcutta India), every night thousands of women are forced to stand in a line to sell themselves in the sex trade while of 10 times as many men come through to "shop" from the line.

I travelled to India in 1999 on a mission trip and was there for right at a month. I had stayed in Calcutta, but had no idea about Sonagachi. I also remember thinking when I got back that I would never go to India again. But here it was - the answer to my prayer that I didn't even know I was praying.

I came home and told Jake all about it. I was pretty excited and he said, "You're already there aren't you"? We talked through the "practical" side (money, what to do with the boys, work, etc). And I told him, "I just believe it will be possible".

Over the next few months I prayed, read, bathed in Scripture, shared, wrote support letters and watched God weave a team together. I am still overwhelmed at His care for details in my life. Friends and family took on this journey with me through prayer and financial support.

I carried my Freeset bag everyday so that I would remember that when God calls He will provide.

I've been home from India for 2 days now. Proof that God answers prayers we don't even realize we are praying.