India Report #4

One of my goals for this trip to India was to better understand the Yanadis tribesmen for a book project. Sunday night I went with an interpreter and driver and headed out to a group of Yanadis living much as they have for hundreds of years.

This is a special people of simple, carefree souls living off the land. They are exceptionally honest and hard working. I can see why God chose them for revival. Amazing things are happening.

Yesterday I interviewed an evangelist who, three weeks ago, prayed over a deceased man in his coffin. The man came back to life. This after the body was sent home from the hospital where a doctor pronounced him dead.

My Western mind was skeptical. I thought coma, but that does not explain the timing. It was when the evangelist felt God tell him to pray that the man sat up and yawned. I missed interviewing the risen man because he is very much alive and walked from the church an hour before I arrived.

Try as I might, I can’t whittle away at that miracle.

The simple truth is God continues to do mighty works that call Yanadis out of darkness and into light.

So I spent the night with them.

First we gathered in the dirt street outside the church and sang, performed gospel magic, and told children’s stories. Many of the adults were on the other side of the village dancing; something they do for entertainment most every evening. So our little service had competition. I was glad to see the children were more interested in the gospel stories and chose to gather with us. The average age of our audience was about 8. My kind of crowd.

For dinner, we had the usual chicken curry over rice served on banana leaves. After a stroll through the star-lit huts, and chatting by the stream while fireflies dodged about, it was time to sleep.

Most everyone lay down on mats outside their palm-leaf houses, next to their water buffalos and goats. As we walked back through the village, families were lined up on the ground, ignoring our noise and sleeping away.

Three cots were set in the street, under a bare light bulb, and we lay down. No bedding, pads, or mosquito netting; but we were fine. The bugs ignored us and I closed my eyes to shut out the curious neighbors hovering about.

As dawn crept up, there was no mercy for the weary. Roosters crowed under my cot, a dog licked my feet, and an auto-rickshaw put-putted around us. Some women and children were sleeping in the church behind us and once they vacated, I went in with hopes of privacy.

After reading my Bible, I closed my eyes to pray. I tried to block out tiny sounds of others coming and going. I lifted my lids to 12 small faces sitting around me, some bowed in prayer. These children do not go to school because non-tribal students revile them. It was a bit of coup that I was able to leave them behind to find a thirsty bush.

The brothers taught me to brush my teeth with the twig of a neem tree. The wood is aromatic and the process works amazingly well.

Lovely people; it was a joy to learn their ways better. I look forward to introducing many of them to you in heaven.

Today on the way to the airport, we stopped in another village where a small crowd waited under a canopy. I preached, then Rufus got into a lather as he summed up, prayed, and sang three or four songs. Because I can’t understand the words, I can observe the Spirit moving all the better.

Then there was a transition. People brought gifts of fruit, Indian clothes, candy, and money. It turned out to be a hair cutting ceremony.

Children are shorn bald as a right of passage. I had the dubious honor of cutting a four-year-old’s hair and her one-year-old brother’s as well. The scissors were brand new out of the package, but so dull it was a chore to gnaw on the precious lambs. I think the little boy will carry a deep fear of scissors and white people the rest of his life.

Oh yes, there was another naming ceremony, but I saw this one coming and had time to pray first. He will be Phillip.

All and all a grand way to wrap up the India portion of this trip. I came away with a touch of heat sickness, but joy in my heart; those two facts pretty much summarize the two weeks.

On to China. From here updates will come through Dani and I request you do not email me sensitive info. You can respond to Dani. Rufus will be joining us for the first two weeks and I am looking forward to ministry together.

Thanks for the prayers. I realize yours is the more Christ dependant role in our partnership for the gospel. I admire your willingness to intercede. You will have many friends waiting for you in heaven because of your travail.

Lk 16:9 NIV

I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.

Blessings,

JDC--

More photos are at:

More photos are at: http://gallery.me.com/don_goulding#100131

India Report #3

Rufus picked me up in Chennai for the drive up to Nellore, the home of ALMA ministries. He couldn’t wait to get started and, even though he was sick and vomited on the side of the road (a bit of role reversal), we stopped at a village and preached to 40 evangelists and their wives. I took stock of the tiny church, the large crowd, and the sweat stinging my eyes, and asked if we could move outdoors. They readily agreed and we had a rockin’ good time under the stars.

I am sooooo glad for your prayers; I wish you were here to experience the results. An anointing falls on my inert preaching, the believers get fired up, and we worship with drums, wild clapping, and dancing. My guess is Jesus wants North Americans to be as free and uninhibited before him as these simple village Christians; but then we have our public-image to maintain don’t we?

There has not been a dull moment here in the Nellore District. We have hit so many villages they run together in my mind: Kapuluru, Gonupalli, Gandavaram, Busa Goddi Palem, Rama Teeydam, Dandigunta, Otukur, Narukuru, and Rama Puram. You have to drag your tongue around your mouth to pronounce them. A few highlights are on order.

We go out by motorcycle or car in the morning or evenings to avoid the heat—40 to 45, what is that in Fahrenheit?; I just know it is hot enough to turn this pale-skin into a potato chip. The evenings are better. You can’t see the garbage and the colored tea lights make everything festive.

There is no greater joy than to encourage these simple Christians, look into their faces, and see the joy of the Holy Spirit send out sparks. You cannot believe how beautiful they are. I have been preaching how we are God’s temple, and the shrines in every village are not. Many are recent converts from Hinduism and they are hungry to learn more of the God of love they have discovered.

Last night we dedicated a church constructed of palm branches. It is right across from a major Hindu temple. The believers are snatching souls away from Satan under his nose. It is exciting to think of how many more this new church will reach in the months to come.

After the ribbon cutting, Rufus asked me to give new names to a half dozen believers who were recently baptized. Often, their birth names come from Hindu gods or goddesses, so we give them Biblical names.

Oh Lord, what do I tell them. The congregation waited for my pronouncements. I pulled names out of the air: Sarah, Eunice, Bibleama, Mary Rani, Jacob, Joseph Raja. It is a good thing the book of Revelation says we will get new names in heaven or these poor people would be stuck for eternity with names assigned by a clueless missionary with a bad memory for Bible characters.

Kind’a the same thing happened at a baby dedication. We pulled up to the venue beside a thatched house. Tarps were laid on the dirt and shaded overhead. A loudspeaker and bright colored saris marked a special occasion.

I try to not ask too many American questions, but I didn’t know where we were going, what time, who the people were, or what my part would be. As we sat at the table of honor, Rufus flipped the pages of his Bible, so I figured I was off the hook. I relaxed and enjoyed the music, took a few pictures, and smiled at babies.

When my impatience got the better of me, I whispered, “Do you want me to pray over the baby or something?”

“Oh no, you are going to preach and dedicate the baby.”

Ooookay. Come up with a sermon. Humm, I like to use illustrations and I have a piece of red string, so let’s improvise.

Thanks to your prayers, it all worked out. Every time this happens they tell me how blessed they were by the message, but I wonder if Rufus doesn’t ignore my English and translate a more appropriate sermon. I have no idea what he says in Telugue. Whatever…we do our best and it is all on the Holy Spirit anyway.

After the sermon about babies, life, eternal temples and the like, the mother and 11-day old baby appeared out of the house. We prayed over the baby, then Rufus whispered, “What is its name?”

Oh no, here it was again. People agonize for months over their children’s names and whatever I say in the next 12 seconds is going to haunt this kid for life.

“Is it a boy or girl?”

“Boy.”

“Um, I pronounce this special, holy temple of the living God,” I stalled, “his name will be, a Bible name from the important person in the old Testament, the one who told God’s people what to do. He will be…Jeremiah.”

As Rufus wrapped up, the usual delay in my brain caught up. Wasn’t Jeremiah the prophet who was beat up and tossed into a well? Ugh oh, sorry kid.

On Sunday we hit four churches, or shall I call them ovens? The idea was to give a fifteen-minute sermon at each but how can you go all that way, see those wonderful faces, and dash out after fifteen minutes? At one church a group of young men attended because of the American and his magic tricks. Hereunto, the pastor had not been able to get the boys to set foot inside so, after I did my thing, he gave them the full gospel treatment.

“Search the world, and you will not find anybody else who has died for you,” the pastor spoke and the boys listened. “In all of history people only come to live for themselves, but Jesus came to die for you.”

The sermon hit the mark.

Afterwards, we chugged three coconuts each to replenish our liquids. Those little gems are filled with natural electrolytes.

Tonight I am staying out in a village—not even taking a toothbrush. I’ll let you know how that works out.

Praying back at you,

JDC--

More photos are at: http://gallery.me.com/don_goulding#100131

Buy a Prostitute—Her Freedom (See story below) Entry #2

It has been an undeserved blessing to meet the heroic people I have in the last few days.

Glen Parks of Freedom Firm is an attorney from the US. He and his young family came to India to rescue girls out of brothels. So far they have 100 girls in a recovery hostel.

Freedom Firm uses undercover agents to search out trafficked women. They collect evidence then convince the police to raid the brothels. Glen does the legal work to represent the girls and prosecute the traffickers. The women are trained in jewelry making and given every assistance for recovery.

I had two questions for Glen. Is trafficking really an ongoing problem and can we partner with him? He gave strong yes’s to both questions.

After Glen, Richard and I drove 12 hours south into the jungle covered mountains of Kerala. We met with another strategic partner who loves the downtrodden.

Pastor John and his family have run Maranatha orphanage near Thekkady, Kerala for years. John also pastors a church. After allowing me to preach on Sunday, he donated a day to travel into the forest of Mankulam where we are considering a hostel for trafficked victims.

I stepped onto the property while praying. God seemed to confirm it was the right place. He spoke through wild flowers that marked the boundary lines. This would be a place for damaged girls to recover inner purity and flower before Jesus. It is a big dream and we wait on the Lord. Pastor John was marvelous in the early negotiations with the landowner.

After flying to Chennai we met with Isabella who runs Madras Christian Counselors Social Services (MCCSS), an anti-trafficking organization founded 42 years ago. Isabel is direct, godly, big-hearted, and fun. We hit is off and she had several suggestions for how we can work together. I am sure we will be future partners in some way.

Isabel introduced me to 19-year-old Flower.

In Kerala, Flower’s father died and her mother left to find work in Kuwait. Flower stayed with her older brother. He drank and beat Flower. She sought help at her married sister’s house only to have her brother-in-law attempt a rape.

Without telling her family, a girlfriend took Flower to Chennai in another state and introduced her to someone who knew of job openings. Flower followed the lead and was allowed to share a room with six girls.

The door was locked from the outside.

The next day, men drug some of the girls into cars while they fought and screamed.

Then they took Flower.

“Where are you taking me.”

“To work. Isn’t that why you came here?”

Flower cried and refused to go. By now, she guessed what they wanted. The men beat her. She was so uncooperative they returned her to the house.

The next day the men forced Flower into the car again. Again she cried and fought. Again they beat her and returned her to the house.

The same thing happened on the third and day. Then the police barged in and arrested everybody. A famous prostitution kingpin was taken off, Kannada Prasad. You can read about this scum at: http://chennai365.com/news/kannada-prasads-issue-geared-up-after-2-weeks/

Flower was handed over to MCCSS. She is recovering from her trauma, and sees how God was with her. It was a blessing she was arrested; a narrow escape.

I prayed over Flower and arranged for discipleship. She is anxious to grow in Christ and help us minister to other victims. Her sari was the same color as the flowers on the Mankulam property.

As we negotiated the crowds at the Chennai train station we encountered two young girls selling toys. They were from Rajasthan, a target area for abductions into slave labor. After a year or two of selling goods, they will probably be moved to the brothels.

Richard said, “If we had a place for victims we could take those two to safety right now. They are minors and the police would support us.”

As I talked with the girls, their managers appeared and hovered. The managers pay brokers to import the girls and they were guarding their investment. Look at the faces in the pictures and tell me if you wouldn’t do something to help if you could.

The photos for this entry are at http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian/100008

So, the big question about the girls: What if it were your daughter? Would you buy freedom for a trafficked victim?

I am not asking for help right now, only that we pray about how to help the forgotten Flowers of the third world. I am thinking about an adopt-a-victim program where an individual or group can:

Pay – for the investigation to locate and recover a victim.

Pray – for salvation, and full recovery.

Parent –her via phone or email.

For now, just think on it.

Next stop, 5 back-to-back ministry days in Nellore training evangelists.

Woo hoo, it’s fun being an unworthy servant.

Jesus said, “So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’” Luk 17:10.

Bon Voyage

Friends of the Gospel:

1) Discipleship is needed in the global church. I cannot find materials that are comprehensive, non-denominational, in a Bible study format, simple, and free. So I made materials. More languages are on the way. You can download and freely use the booklets by clicking on http://www.freechristiandiscipleship.com/

Please let others know about this free resource. If you have a webpage or blog, please add a link to my site. Your link will be read by Google and increase the priority in Google searches.

2) I am leaving on Monday for another missions trip. Dani will stay in the US and handle distribution of updates. I will travel to India for the hostel project, then to China for leadership training. I will return May 17th. I appreciate your prayers.

Easter Blessings Because of Our Risen Savior,