Sunburnt in the name of the LORD

I am sunburnt.
But don’t worry, it isn’t serious. :) After about 5 days of rain, cloud, and chilly weather that made me wish I brought long-johns, I was so ecstatic that the sun had finally burst through with some strength, that I took full advantage of it and spent the entire morning doing my marking and prep in it. My knees are suffering the worst, being one of the parts of me that never usually sees the sun. Give it two days and it will be a beautiful tan that I will be able to show friends at home to make them jealous. That is, until they see that the tan stops abruptly halfway up my legs and does not come near my shoulders. I beg the forgiveness of anyone I ever laughed at for having embarrassing tan lines.
Besides tan lines, and my ever-present emotional rollercoaster over being in/staying in/leaving India, things here are great! I am suffering a minor digestive setback, my stomach has decided that it doesn’t like something I ate yesterday, so today has been….interesting….on the ‘comfort room’ side of things. (see previous blog if that makes no sense to you!) Otherwise, I am feeling good. I look forward to work day tomorrow, when I can do some physical, rather than intellectual, work. Last week we planted some flowers around the property, worked on our compost bin, spread ash over our garden, and shovelled yet more poop onto those stinkin banana trees that are refusing to grow! (Dang you Erin and Carissa….did you curse them or something?!) I love coming to the end of a work day and seeing the progress that was made. It is something tangible that gives such satisfaction. However, there is an entirely different satisfaction that comes from the students here, one that I don’t know if I’ve ever experienced. How to put it in words…..
I suppose it is best to describe by example. Today after lunch, I wandered over to take a look at our garden, and Ebenezer, a younger student from India (one of like 5… :) the rest are Burmese!) followed me. In his shy, accented, way, he asked me what my plans for Christmas are. I gave him what has become my usual, roll-the-eyes-shrug-the-shoulders-and-say-I’m-praying-about-it, and asked what he was thinking for Christmas. He replied, that if me, Allison, Jeff, and the other interns are staying here, he will stay as well. But if we go somewhere else, he will go home with his family.
Hugs and pinches from Zakim, little “good morning, sister!” notes from the boys in their journals, “Auntie” (Ebenezer’s mom who is also a student here) coming and pinning a flower in my hair in the morning…they are precious. We may not be able to communicate with one another very well, but love is not barred by language.
This place has a funny side-effect of toying with one’s perceptions of people. Maybe it’s the language barrier, but even just seeing the way the boy students are so loving with one another, holding hands and walking arm in arm (which is entirely normal for all boys in India!), it makes me see them as sweet young boys, not older than 15 or so. The reality is, that many of them are at least 22, are running from the political and societal situation in Burma, and have pasts that they really don’t feel comfortable sharing. And yet they have such dreams, many of them wanting to be in ministry, to return to their people and share Christ. They have left mother, father, brothers, sisters, and friends to come here, and most are committed to being here for at least 2 years, and will not be able to visit home in this time. What an insane reality.
India has a way of decomposing what you always thought of as your life. All of the things that were important to me, that I considered necessities have tilted, and seeing them from an angle of being halfway around the world, they don’t seem so necessary anymore. I begin to wonder what life is really about. Talk to a family that lives on 6000 RPs a month (roughly, $150 Canadian), but who, with peace in their eyes can explain to me the importance of complete trust in Christ, and money becomes unimportant. Not just unimportant, but a hindrance to living in utter dependence on God. Be informed that a little boy,who most likely had never heard of Jesus, who was pooping on the side of the road (not an uncommon occurrence here) not more than 2 km away, was hit by a bus and died, and thoughts of career security are stopped dead in their tracks. Life for the people here is so simple! Wake up. Walk the cow. Work in the fields. Drink chai. Listen to the radio at a tiny shop on the side of the street with 10 other people crowded on 2 benches. Walk home. Sleep. There is no change. There is no…striving, for change. This is life. Why do I think that all of my gizmos and gadgets, my shower and down blanket, my stovetop and couches, cushion my existence to give me purpose? Am I really different from these people? I am reminded of 1 Thessalonians 4:11, “make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you”. No need to strive. And yet I feel the need for more than just to exist, to let life happen to me as I plod along. The other day I read Psalm 19, how “the law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul,”…. “the commands of the LORD are radiant, giving light to the eyes” and it made me think, what is the Lord’s command? Mark 12:28-31, essentially, Love God with all of who you are, and love your neighbour. Well, if doing this will revive my soul, giving me light, my purpose will be to live simply, loving my Creator, loving His Creation, wherever on Earth He places me.
Now, reading the Irresistible Revolution has me convinced that as straightforward as this sounds on paper, (or in this case, email…) in living it, things get more complicated. But I’m okay with a little complication. Otherwise, what would keep it interesting!?
Is this enough, is learning this, all that I am supposed to glean from India? I think it could be enough. It could be sufficient to return home and live with this different perspective. But maybe there is yet more I am to learn, to chew through. I am open to it.
And that is how I will leave you, dear friends, at least for a little while. All of me (including my sunburnt knees) wishes you the sweetest of days, and a cheering reminder of my utmost admiration and love for you.