Archive for the ‘blogInput’ Category

Finding a tasty turkey for Thanksgiving while serving in South Asia can be a challenge

By Peggy Uppinghouse*

Turkey For SaleINDIA–Many friends and relatives have asked about how we celebrated Thanksgiving here in India. Well, obviously, it is not an Indian holiday, even though it began with Indians at the first celebration in the 1600s – just a different kind of Indians. Read the rest of this entry »

 

What’s My Response?

What’s My Response?

Before I came to South Asia, I wasn’t too concerned about beggars. In my Texas suburban life, I hardly encountered a beggar, and if I did, I awkwardly passed by, usually doing nothing to help. Every once in a while I would help at a soup kitchen or give my lunch to a homeless man just so I would not feel guilty, but I never let myself wrestle with living a life following Christ’s commands and truth about loving the poor. After being in South Asia for a few weeks, I realized my philosophy and actions were neither correct nor appropriate.

In South Asia, beggars are a common sight. Much of their plight comes from the remains of the caste system as well as Hindu beliefs. Even though the economy is slowly improving and offering more opportunities to the average citizen, many remain in a low caste due to the Hindu belief that it is bad karma to change your societal standing. It is a view that one must endure the life given to him or her. Because of this, many look down on beggars and refuse to help them.

When I arrived in one of the urban areas of South Asia, I was bombarded with the poverty and cultural differences. At every traffic light, beggar children reached into my auto and mumbled phrases I could not understand, attempting to gain a few rupees. I felt slightly compelled to do something but soon became overwhelmed and annoyed with the situation. I wondered how I could help the situation when there were so many beggars. Even if I gave to one, there were still millions of others who needed help. Since I didn’t know what to do, I just prayed. I prayed that God would help me know what to do and that He would in some way show the beggars that He loved them and had eternal life for them.

A couple of weeks later, I was now at my ministry site and spending some time grocery shopping. I walked by an old lady sitting on the steps into the store, weakly holding out her hands to those who passed by. The look in her eyes was dull and of one resigned to her position in life.

As I walked by, I gently smiled at the woman, said a prayer for her and then went into the store, focused on getting my groceries. A few isles into the store, it happened – I was convicted. The Lord softened my heart and I realized that I had just ignored the answer to my prayer for the beggars a couple of weeks ago. I finally realized that the person who is supposed to act and love these people is me.

When I left the store, I intentionally walked right by the beggar woman, but instead of walking away, I stopped and handed her some of the groceries I had purchased. I didn’t speak her language so I could not tell her about Christ’s love for her, but I prayed that she saw Jesus’ love through me.

After that experience, I wish I could tell you that I know how to help every beggar, but I don’t. To be honest, I am still overwhelmed with knowing where to start to help this situation. But what I learned and am attempting to now live out is to be obedient and to listen to the Holy Spirit. I believe the Holy Spirit compelled me to help the woman I saw that day at the grocery store. My prayer now is that I am sensitive to His leading so that I know how to take action when He lays it on my heart to help a beggar or another person I pass by.

By Annie Rosner*, a Hands-On student serving in South Asia for the 2009 spring semester

 

A Valuable Lesson Learned

A Valuable Lesson Learned

Walking down the streets of South Asia, taking in the bustling crowd, with people left and right of me wanting me to buy their products, I gazed up and saw a familiar symbol on a building. As I looked closer, a cross came into view and beneath it a beautiful cathedral. I hadn’t seen one up close here yet, so I made my way through the vendors to get to it.

As I approached, I wasn’t prepared for what was going on. Statues of Mary and other saints were set up throughout the complex. People had flowers and candles that they placed by the statues. They bowed down to the marble and prayed to it. In the courtyard of the cathedral, people were selling these flowers and other items to give as an offering to “God.”

What I wasn’t prepared for was blatant idol worship in a Christian church. If there hadn’t been a cross on top of the building and some Christian writings, I would have thought it was a Hindu temple. I imagine that they just bring their different backgrounds into Christianity. This is how they know to worship. The vendors inside the gates reminded me of when Jesus came into the temple courts and was so angry with all of the selling and cheating going on there, how he just came in and overturned the tables. What would he do if he saw people bowing down to a statue of his mother Mary and him? I imagine Him saying, “Those things were made by human hands. I came to earth for you to have a personal relationship with me, not with an idol.”

It got me thinking. Even though they outwardly worship idols, what is the difference between that and what I do? Every day I give into my own selfish wants and desires. I covet what other people have. I become overly consumed with things. I myself worship all sorts of idols, just in secret. How can I judge and condemn something that I do in myself?

It’s amazing what you can learn here. The Bible becomes real. The things that happened to the New Testament churches are occurring here. I can choose to learn from it, or I can pretend that it doesn’t apply to my own life. Although I wasn’t prepared for what I saw that day, I also wasn’t prepared for God to reveal that we all are guilty of this sin.

Written by Nicola Broden*, a Hands-On student serving in South Asia for the 2009 spring semester

 

IMB appoints 60 new missionaries

Emma Zondervan* says yes: “When God speaks to you, He speaks to your heart. He doesn’t speak to your ears,” said the Huntsville, Texas, native, who is hearing. “Your deafness does not prevent you from going to heaven.

Zondervan was among 60 new missionaries appointed by the International Mission Board Sept. 16 at First Baptist Church in Jacksonville, Fla. The appointees are being sent to four continents — 35 to Asia, 12 to Europe, 12 to Africa and one to the Americas, bringing the total number of Southern Baptist missionaries to 5,562.

Read the rest of this entry »

 

South Asia—what an amazing place!

South Asia—what an amazing place! Where to begin?

I am here teaching music to students at a Christian school. Besides teaching, I am taking lessons while I am here. I was given the choice to take singing, dance or instrumental. I thought since I would be singing all day at the school, I should do something different. So I chose to dance.

I have had the greatest privilege of getting to better understand the Hindu culture first hand through a classical dance called Bharatanatyam. This is nothing like American dancing. I used to dance in the States, so I thought, “Okay, this wont be so bad, right?” Wrong! It is extremely challenging. But what they do is remarkable.

This is a unique way of story telling. The Hindu culture has a lot of stories about all their gods, so they dance to it. In this particular form of dance, they have a live singer, a few typical Indian instruments, and a dancer in the middle. She will act out the story as it is being told to the audience. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I started! But once I figured out what it really is that they do, I was so excited because I could tell a story about Jesus in a way that all these Hindus would love and understand!

What I do is tell my teacher a story from the Bible, then we find traditional music that will go along with the story. She plays it and teaches me a dance from the steps that I have previously learned. I am excited to learn my first story here soon. At the end of my term here, I will have a “show” and have lots of my dance teacher’s friends and students come watch me do this dance. All of them will get to hear a story about Jesus.

This has been a life-changing experience—and one amazing work out. I hope that other believers will join with me and dance to share the Gospel with these people!

*Written by a Hands-On student serving in South Asia for the 2009 fall semester.

 

The spitting Ama and other bedtime stories

Journals from theEdge: By Charis Althouser*

Ama: Tibetan, noun: grandmother or very old woman, usually around 70-plus years old.
After a particularly long day on the trail, Ivy* and I strolled, or rather hobbled, into town just as the sun was setting. The house we would be staying in that night was one of a small collection of homes. At most, there were 10. A sweet old woman welcomed us when she arrived, which was about half an hour after we did. She found out we had cameras and excitedly communicated to us by part gesture, part Tibetan, part Nepali that she wanted her picture taken. We gladly obliged and started to get our cameras ready. Then to our surprise, she ran off to the bedroom to get ready. When she emerged, she was decked out in traditional Tibetan dress and had brought two different hats for her photo shoot! She was adorable to photograph, even while Ivy and I were wishing the lighting were better. I think she was more excited than we were about the whole process, but she seemed a little disappointed that the pictures didn’t instantly pop out of the camera. Sorry, they’ll have to wait for next year.

A long evening around the woodstove later, we all decided to hit the hay for the night. Our national partner and porter were going to sleep in the common/kitchen/dining/living room. Tibetans really get their money’s worth out of the word multipurpose. Ama had graciously offered Ivy and me her storage room to sleep in. Her initial offer included her bed (a three-foot wide wooden platform with a throw rug basically), which we firmly declined, repeatedly. I have never met more persistent women than Tibetan women. With the smoke from the evening’s fire hanging around our heads, we tried to maneuver the multiple carpets she had brought to us, with our thin foam mattresses and our sleeping bags, onto floor space not intended for three people. Finally everything and everyone got settled.

Or so I thought.

A familiar sound starts catching my attention no more than two minutes later. It’s a sound I’m very familiar with, and if you’ve ever lived in Asia, you know it. It’s a sound that you start to tune out because (1) you hear it so often and (2) it’s grotesque, so you don’t really want to intently listen. It’s the sound of someone clearing his or her throat to expel whatever is lodged there. Just as my brain started to register what I was hearing, I was thinking – I believe out loud at the time, out of sheer panic – “Noooooo! Ama remembers that I’m down here, right?!”

Just as I was processing this thought, that dreadful sound crescendoed and culminated in a wad of spit landing on my sleeping bag six inches from my face. Ama hocked a loogie on me! No, she indeed did not remember that I was down there. So then I begin to somewhat recover from the trauma. Life will go on, even with this wad of foreign spit on my nice, down sleeping bag. While nursing deep hopes that there won’t be a repeat incident, I start to settle down. And she does too. The night is looking better.

Or so I thought.

This is starting to feel like one of those horror stories you tell around the campfire. Don’t worry. It only gets worse.

I start to think over the day – how long, how trying, how exhausting it has been. I think about tomorrow, how it’s already 9:30 p.m. – so early I know, but so late for the mountains! I think about how glad I am to be in bed finally because I have to get up at 5 the next morning to start trekking again. Tomorrow we’ll be crossing the pass, so it’ll be even harder … and … my thoughts are starting to come slowly because I’m starting to drift to sleep….

Or so I thought.

Into my wonderfully sleepy state of being begin to drift sounds. Little sounds. Movement. Pitter-pattering. Sounds that sound like mice. Those sounds quickly emerged in three-dimension as said rodents moments later. After initial rounds of shivering with disgust and squealing and burying myself in my sleeping bag, I began to realize that regardless of the changes in my reactions, those creatures were not changing their locale for the night. I even tried to mummify myself in my bag by pulling the drawstring tight and completely hiding myself inside, including my head. It didn’t work. I had two options: suffocate or brave the mice outside. Unfortunately, I had to opt for the latter, since suicide isn’t exactly smiled upon even when facing a terror as great as those innumerable beady eyes and gnawing teeth in the dark.

They seemed to be staying up on the shelves overhead, so that must be where the open food source was. So long as they stayed up there all night, I should be able to get some sleep.

But they didn’t.

All night long they kept creeping closer and closer and closer. Their footpath of choice was the span of mattress directly behind our heads. Occasionally they chose to run the ceiling beams for a little extra diversion. And then they would fight. And gnaw. And squeal. And run. And then for fun, they’d repeat the whole cycle again. The only variation was the one daredevil rat that ran into the side of Ivy’s sleeping bag. This continued all night long! Trust me, I kept checking my watch. By intervals I seethed with anger, writhed with restlessness, cried in fear or exhaustion, complained to Ivy, and prayed in desperation … but I didn’t sleep. Based on my observance of the passing hours, the only time I missed was between 3:15 and 4 a.m. Approximately. Not that I was wishing for dawn or anything!

–30–

*Name changed for security reasons.

Charis Althouser is a Journeyman serving on theEdge in South Asia.

 

Hindu celebration parallels spiritual warfare

Journals from theEdge: By Arden Robertson*
 
The tolerance and inclusive nature of Hinduism have always been incomprehensible to me, but since moving to South Asia, it makes me feel slightly schizophrenic. My simple, finite mind cannot understand how all roads could possibly lead to the same place, how all gods could possibly be one; but clearly I don’t have to look far to see that these thoughts and beliefs have caught on.

Since my team doesn’t technically work with Hindus, I had reasoned away why God has not broken my heart for these people. I had cut my feelings off from learning too much for fear of being completely overwhelmed – until now.

I did not know what to expect as my teammate and I left the house on Diwali to celebrate the biggest Hindu festival yet. The city’s excitement between shopping and traffic had overthrown any Christmas hustle and bustle I had ever seen. People were everywhere in the days leading up to this holiday. My national friends compare their holiday to Christmas. It’s the festival of lights and everyone gives gifts, wears new clothes, eats lots of foods and sweets, visits the homes of family and close friends, and shoots off crackers (fireworks) until all hours of the night. It is one big party!

According to tradition, their gods will notice the house with the most light, whether that’s from crackers or candles. There aren’t too many rules with Hinduism though, so the more questions I ask, the more I leave confused.

We went to our favorite Muslim family’s house – yes, they celebrate Diwali even though they aren’t Hindu – and then to visit a Hindu family that we met through them. I experienced my first Hindu prayer and worship in a national’s home, drank chai (hot milk tea) three times in three hours, watched fireworks set off inside of a house, ate enough sweets that I thought I was going to hurl, and silently sang ‘Shine Jesus Shine, fill this land with the Father’s glory….’ I also lit candles to decorate a house, prayed, shared my story, and headed home exhausted.

More important than what happened externally that night was what God began doing in my heart and mind.

All night, I listened to what sounded like a war zone outside. The celebration with all the fireworks had gone on for hours upon hours without ceasing. The indescribable loud noises enabled me to imagine what it would be like to be in the midst of a war as a soldier. I was vividly reminded that night of the war that rages in the spiritual realms. The night – with all its hopelessness and desolation, its joy and laughter, its paradoxical and inconsistent contradictions juxtaposed with the Truth we presented – was a striking portrait of the war we in Christ face daily.

With all the literal noise and racket and with all the smoke, pollution and haze, I could not even see the house in front of me. Yet, there was light; so many houses were decorated with small candles. Even though they were clearly not celebrating the true Light, from a distance looking down the streets, it was the small candles shining one at a time that allowed me to see.

I realized that it is also my candle, my light, His Light, that God will use as He wishes right here, right now, in this place, for this time.

As I looked off into the darkness from my balcony, I remembered a quote from one of my favorite movies, “The gunfire around us makes it hard to hear, but the human voice is different from other sounds. It can be heard over noises that bury everything else, even when it’s not shouting, even if it’s just a whisper. Even the lowest whisper can be heard over armies – when it’s telling the truth.”

May my life be a whisper as it tells the Truth.

–30—

*Name changed for security reasons.

Arden Robertson is a Journeyman serving on theEdge in South Asia.

 

God Carries Edger Through Trials and Trainings

Journal from theEdge:  By Ginger Harstedt*

Sunday
Life on this side of world is somewhat of a roller coaster. I don’t even know how to describe it, but sometimes, I don’t know exactly how, I can go from the depths to the heights and back to the depths again in an instant.

I went to a wedding last week and something I ate did not agree with my stomach. I spent the first part of the week trying to get over that sickness. One night, walking back from meeting people at the park, I felt this horrible overwhelming desperation.

I was so tired and weak and overwhelmed by language and the totally different culture I live in day in and day out. The smells of trash and urine were so strong I almost threw up. All of a sudden, I felt like there was no way that I could even put another foot in front of the other.  The Lord told me, “You’re right. You can’t do it, but I can.”

I felt like I had no energy to keep going, but I continued to walk on the road home. Things felt so overwhelming, and then, the song His Strength Is Perfect popped into my head.

His strength is perfect, when our strength is gone. He’ll carry us, when we can’t carry on. Raised in his power, the weak become strong, His strength is perfect.

At that moment, I was comforted by the One who was carrying me when I could not take another step. Sometimes I think surrendering to come here was sacrifice enough, but then I remember that I have to daily surrender my will and my desires to him. I can do nothing without Him!

Not everything is a struggle, and the longer I am here the more life becomes normal. I also find ways to enjoy things that are different about the culture. I like watching local films and cooking indigenous food. I even bought a bike! It is pink and has a big basket and a bell!

I have to keep reminding myself to drive on the other side of the road, but it feels so good to have wheels again. It just takes more energy than driving my car in America. So now I can ride my bike the eight kilometers to my language helper’s house everyday as well as go to the market and put the vegetables in the basket to bring them home. Fun times!

Tuesday
One thing you quickly realize in South Asia is that there are times you have to turn your gaze. Usually, it is because of a dead animal on the side of the road, someone bathing, or people relieving themselves on the side of the road. At first, I was appalled at the seeming lack of desire for privacy, but, to them, privacy is granted them when others don’t look. So, I have learned to look the other way.

If you make eye contact with merchants selling things, especially on a tourist street, you have just told them that you are going to buy their stuff. Also, single girls can give the wrong impression to a man if they look him in the eye, so I am learning to turn my gaze away.

In the process of learning how to look away, God is also teaching me how and when not to look away. I don’t want to be like the Pharisee that passed on the other side of the road and refused to help when he saw the man who had been beaten and left on the road to Jericho.

I don’t want to turn my gaze away when it is hard. I don’t want to turn away when I see begging children that look sick; or families living in tents on the side of the road; or people offering pooja (worship) to gods that I know are not listening; or when I stay for hours at a baby-naming ceremony, where the parents cannot give the baby the name they chose because names are selected by a priest who uses an astrological chart to decide the name.

I especially don’t want to look away from the hardship of life here. Even on days when I don’t feel like caring, I know my calling is to show the love of the One who died for me. I don’t want to miss what God wants me to see. Even though these things are so hard to look at, I don’t want to be become hard to the reality that the people around me are lost and dying without Christ. He is showing me that his love is huge and covers all of our faults. We are all in need of a Savior.

Saturday
My language skills are improving, but language is still a struggle sometimes. I am catching more and more of what people say, and it is exciting when I am able to talk to someone and make sentences on my own.

I really love being able to talk, but my limited knowledge of grammar makes it really tough to have as many conversations as I would like. This difficulty is pushing me forward, though. I really do want to be able to say all that I want to say.

I have finally learned all the tenses, past, present, future, and daily life. I don’t know why daily life is a tense, but my language helper told me it was important. It is how you say something that you do daily.

My language helper, Arti* is my best friend in my town. I love being with her and her family, but it is hard to see them do their daily pooja. I am constantly trying to find new ways to say no to the sweets that they have offered to the gods. It is called prashad, and it is very rude to say no, but I don’t like the way it tastes. I don’t like any of the local sweets! They are way too sugary, and they are made with think substances like buffalo milk and ghee (purified butter). I daily come up with some creative reason why I cannot take the sweets, or I find a way to hide them in my purse or something! I really want to see this whole family come to know the Truth.

Wednesday
Last week, I went with a friend to a city about six hours away by train. We had not gotten our train tickets until about three days before we left, but we did not think that the train would be full. Where we were going is not really a tourist city, or even an ideal vacation spot.

It turned out we were 39th on the waiting list to get tickets! They promised me that we would have a seat, but I was worried! They told me to wait until four hours before the train left and then we could get our seats confirmed. Being a planner, this killed me, but there was no other option. There is only one train a day to this city. We ended up getting our tickets, but they were in sleeper class with no air conditioner. This is not really an ideal way to travel, but we are young, so we figured we could handle it.

On the train, there were three tiers that serve as beds, and we got on the upper one. If you ever travel this way, don’t sit up straight, you will hit your head on the ceiling. And if your hair is long, put it in ponytail. The fan that is directly in between the berths can pull things like hair into the back of the fan! It was painful! But we made it to our destination in one piece.

My friend and I were attending a training program for national believers and were in charge of the music. My friend has been here a year longer than I have and has really learned a lot about local music. She plays the traditional drum and she sings in the local language well. It was amazing to see the people get so excited when she sang in their musical style with their instruments.

It was really good for me to see, because it is what I hope to learn as time goes on. So, I was able to learn more about music and trainings, and I was just encouraged to see national brothers and sisters worshipping. Watching their faces as we sang was one of the most amazing things I have ever experienced. Their faces were radiant with praise to the Most High God.

We also shared the Lord’s Supper. We used left over roti (flat bread) and some local soft drink. Before the Lord’s Supper was taken, the believers wanted to make sure everyone who had accepted Jesus had been baptized. Three or four people asked to be baptized before we served communion.

Everyone went outside to a small water trough. It was only about four foot by four foot, and about five feet deep. One at a time, they stepped into the trough and the leader would ask them about when they accepted Jesus. Then, he would push them down in to the water. It was amazing to see how they created a full immersion in a place where there was no baptismal or a river or anything.

– 30–

*Names changed for security purposes.

Ginger Harstedt is a Journeyman serving on theEdge in South Asia.

 

Elections Present Hope for Nepali Believers

Journal from the Edge:  By Ivy Porto*

April 19
Just a little over a week after the elections, is as quiet and peaceful as it has ever been, perhaps quieter.  Life continues almost as if the elections never happened. In the days leading up to April 10, many people went back to their villages to vote. A few bombs went off at political rallies, but no one was seriously injured. The country was filled with political campaigns and protests for a free.

Election day was peaceful. The Tibetan protests ceased. The people walked to the voting booths because all transportation was banned for the day. Like most foreigners, my roommate and I stayed home all day. In the days following, it soon became evident who would win the majority of the seats in the new Constituent Assembly. The parties peacefully celebrated in the streets, flying their flags on buses, cars and buildings.

Many questions have been asked: What will happen now? What changes will the government make? How will this affect people hearing the Good News? Will this affect the religious freedom of the believers here?

Right now, no one except God has these answers. has an air of uncertainty about it. Many, believers and nonbelievers alike, seem to be hopeful that the new government will make changes that they believe the old government failed to make. The new government will be responsible for rewriting the nation’s constitution.

Throughout this time, believers here have been praying that God will have the glory in all of this. Despite the uncertainty that covers right now, we believe that God will use the change to draw the people of to Him.

April 21
This morning as I taught English to some women, we were discussing the meaning of peace and anguish. They had difficulty describing anguish. One woman explained that is at peace right now because no one is fighting. She said she didn’t understand anguish completely, but she thought that maybe anguish is the word to describe.

Many Nepali people seem to be hopeful that the new government will make several changes to bring development to the country. However, I have not spoken with any who have said this with a sincere confidence. At this time, is a country looking for a hope that only comes from the Living God.

April 22
This morning, we didn’t have water. ke garne? Most of the city was without power for eight hours at some point during the day. ke garne? Today I spent 30 minutes waiting in line for a bank statement, only to find out that I was in the wrong line. I must admit; I was frustrated by the time I reached the counter, but ke garne? Translated, ke garne means “What to do?” This is a common saying in . When something does not go as planned, ke garne? On days like today, this saying is a good reminder to not sweat the small stuff.

However, this saying is also a reminder of the Hindus’ and Buddhists’ worldviews. Both religions revolve around a cycle of lifetimes of good works in order to end the wheel. Many Hindus and Buddhists believe that this cannot be accomplished in one lifetime. This leaves some with a fatalistic outlook. If you cannot end the cycle of reincarnation this time, ke garne?

April 24
Today, my roommate and I were able to drop off our visa applications. We were told we should apply before the new government takes office because of the chaos the transition period may cause. We are praying that God will speed up the application process because we have a three-week trip to some villages soon. The process normally takes three weeks, but we are planning to leave next week. Many of our friends are trying to acquire new visas in the next few weeks. We are confident that God will provide the means for each of us to stay in.

This evening, my roommate and I were visiting a national believer and had an interesting conversation. The new government plans to abolish the monarchy. Many people are wondering if the king will step aside peacefully and become an ordinary citizen. The new majority party has said that if he doesn’t step down then he will be removed forcefully. Our friend was saying that it is very possible that there will be fighting in when the new government comes to power. He also said he believes people will be distracted by politics, and this will make it very easy to share the Good News with people without persecution. I believe that either way God will use this for His glory.

April 25
A couple of friends and I had an interesting conversation with a taxi driver tonight. As we began to speak to him, we were able to ask him which religion he puts his faith in. As many people in answer, he said that he likes them all. None of the religions are bad. He sees Buddha’s life and Jesus’ life to be very similar. He has read some of the Bible and liked it. Jesus was a very good man.

I have heard these phrases so many times since moving here. These people are very open to hearing what we have to say. They will quickly agree to how good Jesus is and that they like Him. However, they find it so very hard to discern between Jesus and other gods. In their eyes, one way reaches the same hilltop. They have trouble seeing that they are either worshipping man-made objects that cannot see, hear or breath, or they worship someone that is dead. Pray that God would open their eyes to who He is, the True Living God.

April 26
Today, I was able to get away for the afternoon and evening to spend some time in the Word. God reminded me that although we have a big task to reach more than 30 people groups, the work is not just up to my team and me. God plans to use the national believers to reach their own countrymen. We are to be faithful in sharing and discipling the people that He brings us, and then He will call those people to share with others. In the meantime, I need to be praying that the Lord raises up workers from both within and from outside the Harvest.

April 29
God answered so many prayers today and showed us how He works in our lives before we even see Him working. We received a call today that our visas were ready for the next stage. This is big answer to many prayers. The first step normally takes two weeks to process, but God moved it so that it was finished in four days. We have two more offices to visit, but we are confident that God will continue to answer prayers, and we will have our visas by the end of the week.

Another way God showed His authority is through an accident a friend of mine had recently. God placed a Nepali believer in the situation to ensure our friends safety. God also allowed us the opportunity and privilege to pray with him before we said goodbye.
 
Ivy Porto is a Journeyman serving on theEdge in Nepal of the South Asia region.

*Name changed for security purposes.

 

Edger Praises God’s Direction Through Volunteer Trip

Journal from TheEdge: By Geneva Donoho*

May 21
The volunteer team arrived last night. They all seem like sweet girls. It’s cool having them here. We are leaving for the village soon. Father, please keep us safe as we travel, be our protector, keep the men from staring, help no one to get sick, and may Your presence be known among these hills. Lord Jesus, I praise You for interceding on my behalf. Father, as we go and come these next days, be our support. Rescue us from our enemies. You’re my strength.

May 22
Lord, thank you for this wonderful day. Thank you for this team of girls. They are all so sweet and I really like them all. Father God, You are so good. What a blessing to get to have these experiences. It’s so cool to be on the other side – for so many years I was the one going on mission trips. Now, I’m the missionary that the team is coming to help.

Yesterday, we met at the office and talked about the expectations, what will happen, etc…  We took three land cruisers up. We stopped at the waterfall and at the Woman and Child Center to pray over it. I have been able to talk with all the volunteers (five of them) and am trying to get to know everyone.

Today, we left really early for the village to conduct a medical clinic. All 12 of us girls rode up in one jeep, quite the crowd. It was fun and dangerous at the same time. Two girls worked with me to take care of the kids. We did mehndi (dark brown paint used to draw traditional designs on women’s hands and feet), games, Bible story dramas, songs, balls, and bubbles.

Some of the other volunteers took weight and height measurements and registration for the clinic and told oral Bible stories. The team was so helpful and we couldn’t have done this without them. We gave out soap to all the patients and more than 82 ladies and children were seen by the doctor. One little baby fell asleep on my shoulder. It was so sweet.

May 23
Oh Lord, you are so good to me. Your face is all I see; Your grace abounds to me. Your creation is so beautiful. There aren’t words to describe the beauty of the mountains, the snow, and the lake. Thank you Lord, for these volunteer girls. This morning after breakfast, we all went on the roof and had a share time and sang a few songs. Then today, we hiked up to this lake. Quite the experience, very cold, started to rain, a few people slipped on the way down.

May 25
Father God, Most Holy Savior, Risen Lamb, thank you for meeting me right where I’m at. Lord, I’m really worried about these three days in this new village area. What are we going to do all day, etc.? Father, I just lay it before You. You prepare the way. Give us the words to say. May the people be open to Your truth and bring us the right relationships.

May 28
Lord, my heart rejoices in You. I’m amazed by You, Your goodness, and how You reveal all things in Your time. I was able to talk last night with the volunteer working with me and we really connected. We were both able to share things about our past and You showed me steps for the future.

June 1
Lord, may this country declare Your praises and boast in Christ. Lord, bring out Your people to salvation. My heart hurts for those beautiful friends of mine who need you. Father, I thank you, I exalt you for leading me and the girls (volunteer and translator) to every place last week.  Thank you for the stories and testimonies we were able to share. 

Thank you for the ladies we got to meet, the health lessons we shared, families we prayed for, and the dear friends we connected with. Lord, these nationals we came close to are heavy on my heart. God, I weep for them. Save them; do the work that only You can do. Let them watch the Jesus film and receive Your truth.

This past week was one of the greatest weeks of my time in this country. The volunteer girls were awesome. I love them all and miss them. God, I praise You for Your protection all the time, especially this past week when the police were watching us.

In one area we went to, the Christian ladies got together and brought a drum and hymnal for singing. We sang songs, told three stories, and then had a prayer time. Then we did the health lesson. One lady shared how her two sons were in an accident and went blind for a month. They prayed and God healed them. Praise the Lord! Another lady shared how her husband left her when she was pregnant and everyone told her to have an abortion. But she kept the baby and she is a beautiful little girl.

Two of the volunteer girls wrote the sweetest notes that made me cry. They shared how much they looked up to us and were in awe of us and had grown because of our example. Lord, You really exceed my expectations and answered all our prayers.

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*Name changed for security purposes

Geneva Donoho is a Journeyman serving on theEdge in South Asia.