This morning started as a typical morning for us. We woke up early – not because we wanted to, but because we were all awake, again. We were showered in record time as the water was extremely cold this morning. Breakfast was at 9, the atmosphere was a bit more relaxed for the team because they knew there was nothing they personally had to preach or teach today. Though Jana got sick last night and didn’t feel much like eating. Sush has been getting sick too…
After breakfast we all went to our rooms where we were donned with another fancy Indian outfit. This was much nicer than the ones they bought us last year. However, they were all too small. Only I could get the shirt buttoned all the way down, but I was uncomfortable with that. Steve and Richard were in the same boat. Sush asked that we instead wear then more like sport coats and that worked out fine.
Pastor Steve baptized about 20 believers and then the fan fare began. There was a huge procession for the six of us. It was complete with “stick dancers” and traditional Banjara tribal dancers. There were so many of them. We walked through a huge parade of people dancing and singing. Flowers were being thrown in the air on us and all around us. They gave us more flowers to place around our necks. I’ve never seen so many colors and heard so much noise as these humble village people escorted us to the front of a huge tent. There we heard more music and were entertained by the best of the stick dancers. They danced and sang to music as each one of them had two wooden sticks in each hand which they clicked and clacked together as they weaved past each other in dance. Each on wore a red bandana as a headband; signifying the type of entertainer they were. Most of these dancers were young men, no older than 21, but there were 3 ladies there who were just as skilled as the men. Banjara dancers were next, three women who danced and balanced big liter sized bottles of water on their heads. One of these women we’ve been watching all week. She has this look of absolute confidence on her face when she dances; almost a look of smugness. She never has this look any other time except when she dances. It’s pretty amusing.
Pastor Steve gave a message and brought the gospel to a lot of people who have come from the thandas. Some we preached to in the village, some are church members who came and wanted to say goodbye to us. Still others were just people who had heard the noise and came to see what the commotion was all about. Steve gave an invitation, though it was not clear as to whether people heard the gospel and were responding to the Holy Spirit working conviction of their sins, or if everybody simply was coming to receive prayer for healing and blessing. The Banjara are a very superstitious people, and it would be easy to see how they would think “white people” could pray for them and all would be well. The whole group prayed for those who came, believing and hoping they were coming for salvation.
After those services we had lunch. EVERYONE had lunch. There was a huge amount of food being served to a huge amount of people. Rice and chicken were on the menu as usual. Though I learned most of these people don’t get the chicken on a daily basis, all they ever have any abundance of is rice. I couldn’t imagine it. Sush called it a “chicken feast,” and that it was. There were so many Banjara people; I hope our visit did them well and that Christ’s message will not be obscured by the “white folks from America” who came to tell it.
After lunch we finished packing and tried to nap before leaving for the city to do some shopping and then going to the airport. It wasn’t easy to sleep as we knew we were going home. We got one more cold shower in hopes that we could stay clean through the biggest part of our journey.
Goodbyes were quick thank goodness. Many of those I was saying goodbye to I had not personally spoken to all week long, but they were all tearful just the same. These people love us so much. Sudakar, Damodar’s brother, who served us meals all week long, was about to break down while we were saying goodbye. And Damodar’s mother had huge tears in her eyes. That was hardest for me; seeing this woman who barely knew us weep over such simple servants of the Lord. We were there to serve her and she served us one thousand times over by just being there, to love us and listen, to dance, to sing or just to smile as many, many others did the same all week long. We will be missing some very good friends.
Thinking on the trip home about the events of the day and the past week; I can’t help but say that I’ll miss the fellowship more than anything. We had so many good times with our brothers and sisters in Christ. We did our best to serve one another and I’ve learned that this is a major part in fellowship in the Lord. These beautiful people treat us as though we are heroes or celebrities. They make big banners in order to announce our comings and goings and they make sure every need is met according to their best ability so that we soft Americans are as comfortable as we can be. They see us as leaving homes thousands of miles away as being the biggest, most important events of our lives. To some, it is. To me, it is; not because I am any type of hero, but because it takes a huge amount of faith in the Lord to get there and to get through it. Money, time, lessons, embarrassment at times, sickness at times, fears to conquer, love to risk and even the chance of never seeing your loved ones again, back home and in the mission field; at least not until we all get to Heaven. All of these must be considered and take faith in the Lord just to get by and step out toward that visit to the Banjara people. It seems the people of India understand that, though they may never understand the specific details.
Now, going home, which has been a remarkably smooth ride (I slept 6 hours of our first 8 hour flight) I realize I’m heading back to a place where my words will not mean near as much as they do in India. Among my own people, I am just like they are. I am equal and not held on a pedestal. People will categorize the words I speak for the Lord as being with those they respect, like they would a dear pastor or a youth minister, but rarely will those words be taken to heart. No, at home, in America, there must always be more than words, but there also must be action. People love to be put up on a pedestal, they love to be made to feel important, as though what their words say mean something to those around them. They SHOULD mean something. The very fact that intelligible words are coming from the voice that God gave them should mean that someone is listening, especially when it’s someone from home who can relate to them. If this trip has taught me anything, it is that when the very least among men is speaking, the very least among believers should be listening. Open hearts should be among us, so we might seek a way to bring men, women, and children to the saving grace of our Lord and then the sanctifying favor from He who we have found and adore. I personally realize just how much we are called to serve among believers and unbelievers alike, even when serving just means listening.
As for the fellowship among my brothers in Christ who went on this trip, we have all grown closer. Richard, whom I didn’t really know very well, will now be a life long friend as we have served together and realize we see much more eye to eye than what we ever believed. It was regrettable though, to the both of us that we never took time out before to get to know one another.
Sometimes people have preconceived ideas about another person and often times they let those ideas keep them from stepping out in faith to get to know them. I believe Richard realized that he never knew me. Well, not to the point he does now. The same can be said about me with him. Yet I was apologetic and let him know that I’m shy as it is. Because of that, there are few we serve in the church with who do know me as well as he does now.
Steve, my pastor, friend and mentor is looking at these mission trips now with comfort and casualness. He understands the urgency of souls needing to be reached fro Christ, but there is now comfort ability in what he does when he goes to India. He is not as apprehensive as he once was about teaching and preaching to people he doesn’t know. Now he sees all of them as just needing Jesus Christ and that’s giving him a drive to come back again and again. May I also learn to step out of my comfort zone until it becomes comfortable for me as well.