One Girl, One Village, One God

One girl from a little town in America with nothing to offer except a testimony of the Lord's faithfulness. Sent to one woman in one village in one city in this one world to share the love of Jesus and his faithfulness. One God to go before me.

The faithfulness of the one true God is incredible to me. For years a woman waited to have a baby, losing 2 in the process. For years she prayed to her false gods... nothing happened. Two years ago, some missionaries came and prayed with her for a child. 2 years later I'm sitting in her yard as she holds her precious son, and tells me, "I still worship the other gods." 

How, when she has seen the faithfulness of the one true God, can she still say I worship this stone who cannot see me, cannot hear her?

How can she hold that promise of God in her arms and still say no? 

So I pray with my feeble words that my story will leave a footprint and she will remember the words we say to her. I pray that she will find healing because she has seen where I have been.

I'm in awe at how the Lord has chosen to use me, he has said, "Leah, I love you and I chose you to do this task because I want them!"

I am loved enough by God to be a vessel that carries his message of love to a tiny village in India, where as I sit sharing my testimony a herd of goats runs around me and I can't help but giggle and say "Oh India..." I am loved enough by God to satisfy my need of seeing results as he says, "My grace is sufficient." I am loved by a God who paints a beautiful sunrise for me when I hike a mountain at 5 am to sing praises to him. I am loved enough by God to stay behind and meet this amazing old woman whose eyes are desperate. Or to see a little girl in a school and smile at her because despite the fact that she has a hindu dot on her forehead, her eyes tell me differently. She has Jesus in her heart and I pray that she holds him close. I am loved to encourage a 16 year old girl whose family doesn't know Jesus but she tells me, "I still pray." I am loved that much to be given all these stories, to be used by God for all his glory.

This week I'm learning what the old camp song I learned as a child means to me, "Listen to the Lord as he speaks softly, listen to the words of perfect man, listen to the Lord as he speaks softly Listen even when you don't understand." 

Well, I have had so many silly memories this week like accidentally cursing the ground where the apples come from while trying to pronounce a child's name, and also some beautiful things like sharing my testimony on the dirt floor of an Indian hut or listening to Indian Christian's pray in Tamil or sing praises to the Lord. I've seen prayers answered when I pray that God will fill this new church and a stash of children come in from the village. I have found what I love, being surrounded by children as I teach them the love of Jesus (:

Prayer requests: 

-the language barrier has been very difficult for me... pray that I wouldn't withhold words because I don't want to overwhelm the translator.

-pray for rain!

-pray for our team's unity (:

I'll see you next week!!

Oh India

 Sitting cross-legged in a tiny hut, on the other side of the world, drinking chai, with as many people that you could pack in that tiny dark-lit space. There is hope in this room, the people's stories are incredible that stretch across time, and even if I have just one hour will this family, will I use it to share the never-ending love that I have? The unbroken hope that lives inside me?

Oh India is all you can say, when you are driving down the street and pretty convinced you are going to hit another car, horns honking and cows EVERYWHERE, holding baby chickens that randomly walk into the hut. I've been here a week and have had probably 300 cups of chai tea. The food is so painfully spicy sometimes, but the Lord is giving me grace. I try to pronounce children's names but end up cursing the place the apples come from... teaching duck duck goose as hen hen cow and seeing so much joy in their faces..
There is trash everywhere, but this place is so beautiful, you can see it when you look into their stunning eyes. The poverty is not so overwhelming when you see the way they face it with strength. They are a people of worship, the story of Jesus is a strange one for them to accept, but I believe our love will show them still a better way.

Because when I look into the eyes of little girl whose eyes are so full of wonder because someone is showing her an ounce of love, my heart breaks because this is something so new to her. When the children laugh because they think it is so silly that I cannot pronounce their words, and all I want to do is tell them Jesus loves you, but the language barrier is almost the same as miles. But I've learned to give love by looking into their eyes, touching their hands, that no one else will touch. My heart is shattered as I walk through a hindu temple and watch a mother teach her child how to lay on the ground, still, worshiping idols that will never breathe. My heart is with the woman who was alone, cursed by witchcraft, in her tiny hut who just longed to feel our touch. The children didn't follow us into her home like they did the others, maybe she was untouchable, but touch is a language that reaches in and destroys the pain.  Looking into the eyes of a woman, who hasn't quite found healing for losing her mom, and being able to share the healing God has brought to me.

Well, lunch is ready, so I gotta go! Thanks for your prayers and such!

Prayer Requests:
The Indians need rain. It hasn't rained her in Madurai and it is making them live in hopeless poverty. Pray that it will come and they'll know it is from the Lord.
That we will be able to be bold and confident sharing our faith.