been reading about the fruits of the spirit lately.
and reflecting on identity.
and trying to hold fast to hope on behalf of my nepali friends. which seems to be tested more with each new fragment of story and understanding i gain into their lives. but let me back up. its been a busy week already and we're half way through.
said goodbye to the sweetest team ever last friday. but with little time to sit and mourn kristin and i say hello to a former servant team member Melissa this weekend!!! nothing says retreat from the grind like a visit to Kolkata. And then if that wasn't enough we'll say another hello in two weeks to our first intern since, well, me i guess. And then the floodgates open and we get Chris and his sweet team of friends coming to visit and the one and only Kyle Scott. Performing live in Kolkata for at least the next 3 years... Please book your tickets in advance. So it appears that the WMF Kolkata Bed and B-fast will be open for business and you're all welcome for a little warm tropical May stay...
I sense myself in the midst of our busyness, straining to see clearly. to fix my eyes and walk in hope. thus i turned to Galations and found myself replanting those life bearing seeds deep within my heart. the brokeness and corruption i'm disovering in the gach moves my heart with a heaviness i cannot shake even with all the strength i dare to muster. i close my eyes and see a little girl a few stories up. one minute painting my nails. the next surrounded by guys deciding who will take the first go. and i want to throw up. i want to scream and punch and hate. and tear by the roots all thats good and kind and gentle in my heart. replacing it with hatred and anger. my heart is torn and my mind is permantly molded to this little one's life and for this reason i find myself crawling towards the Father in hopes that i can rearrange my heart to pray and hope and see miracles on behalf of these faces that follow me through my kolkata days. i don't know where to go from here. so i look down and stare at the chipping polish on my hand and again whisper my friends' names towards the Father. in most cases lately, the only way i can find to pray for them.