these days....

i have a ton of pictures and no way to post them...but i will as soon as i get back to kolkata...right now i am really missing calcutta alot!! the language is progressing but somewhat hampered this week by being sick...seems we all--beth, kristin, and i--picked up some kind of bug while treating ourselves to mexican food--i guess eating mexican food in bangladesh is not such a good idea...so i was laid out for one day on tuesday and got better but then i was down for the count again yesterday with a fever and possibly more "d" then i have ever experienced on a single day in my life--i think saying that i went about 25 times would not be an exaggeration...and seriously it was probably more...i basically was battling dehyration all day long with a headache--still felt pretty crappy and nauseus this morning but i forced myself to go to church (church is on friday in bandladesh--same day as the big muslim prayer day--sunday is a working day) and i have since felt much better....hopefully no more relapses. being sick in the states is much easier --there are so many distraction--tv and movies--yesterday i read a book and a half and was still bored and so discouraged by being sick another day. i always try to remember those who suffer with long term illnesses when i am sick and how hard and discouraging it must be --how if i lose hope at the end of 24 hours how does one keep hope through months and years of sickness...days like yesterday make me wish for the kind of TLC that only mom's can give....yeah so yesterday i really missed my mom alot! MOM I MISS YOU!! i still comfort myself with 7-up when i am sick just like my mom but they are missing saltines here in bangladesh so sour cream and onion chips where the best subsitute--i was totally craving salt!! must have been the dehyration. I pray three psalms this morning all with the common theme of the Lord being my refuge and strength..i guess that is the cry of those who suffer long...lord be my refuge and strength, hear my in my despair and deliver me from this sickness.

You can not take anything from me...

You can not take anything from me because i give it to your freely. Nothing is mine---you can take my humanity and my diginity because i give them to your freely. They are not mine to protect they are God's. My humanity and my dignity are not mine to protect and hold and cherish--how can i hold so tightly to them when all around me some many are having their dignity and humanity stolen from them. I am not a victim. I have chosen to be marginalization for the sake of the salavation of the humanity and dignity of others. Nothing can take my diginity, my humanity, self esteem because i freely give them for the cause of Christ in the world--that he may be glorified daily in my life and even in my death and the death of the selfish and sinful parts of me.

I am stunned how small words of kindness can eliminate the most powerful barriers--the barrier between the beggar and the donor--the seperation is lessened by a human exchange of words and eye contact that can offer dignity and humanity to some whose presence if not dignified very often. There is a boy with a deep wound in his leg-now healed a scar but a horrible disfigurment and he begs. he begs from me. and for a few days i ignored him--walked by him and did not answer his request for a few taka...because i felt dehumanized by the beggars--by their hounding by the fact that they look at me as money and not a person--but i realized that i need to give it up again--you can not take my life from me because i give it freely and everything i have from my body to the money entrusted to me is not mine--so other day when he asked--i asked him name and where he lived and why he was begging and where are his parents...and he was suprised that i asked...and i then i gave him a little money but the money was not the thing that mattered to him--i think what mattered more was that i spoke to him and treated him like a person and he returned the favor not only that day but everyday since.

I wonder what i have been holding on to so tightly. Why have i been hesitant to give when God created me with an almost innated desire to share...i want to be generous. no one can take anything from me because i give it freely. I will not hold on to myself any longer--there is nothing to protect--my body, my things, my life--because none of it is mine.

An encourageing song from a friend...

In Christ Alone

In Christ alone, my hope is found, He is my light, my strength, my song; This Cornerstone, this solid ground, Firm through the fiercest drought and storm. What heights of love, what depths of peace, When fears are stilled, when strivings cease. My Comforter, my All in All, Here in the love of Christ I stand. In Christ alone who took on flesh, Fullness of God in helpless babe. This gift of love and righteousness Scorned by the ones He came to save; Till on that cross as Jesus died the wrath of God was satisfied; For our sin on Him was laid; Here in the death of Christ I live. There in the ground His body lay, Light of the World by darkness slain: Then bursting forth in glorious Day Up from the ground He rose again! And as He stands in victory Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me, For I am His and He is mine Bought with the precious blood of Christ. No guilt in life, no fear in death, This is the power of Christ in me; From life’s first cry to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny. No pow’er of Hell, no scheme of man, Can ever pluck me from His hand; Till He returns or calls me home, Here in the pow’r of Christ I’ll stand!

Just so ya know..

i am feeling a little better, a little more free and released to enjoy learning bangla. i have had some super sweet times with jesus that have lead to some good revelation--wanted to post some thoughts but forgot my journal so....i will just say if you are reading this...

Have a super happy thanksgiving!

being human, raw and vulnerable

Okay so i feel really human, really flawed and really vulnerable today. i have 11 pages of new vocab to learn from the last week and i have been studying a minimum of 3 hours a day in addition to my classes making some days a full 8 hours of bengali...i really feel like there is so much to learn that i will never learn it on top of which the way in which things are said is so different from how a native english speaker would say them. also feeling a little isolated from regular bengali speakers...i miss calcutta!! i miss the girls in the gach, i miss sitting with them and just being apart of their day...i want to talk with someone in bengali besides my teachers...

So i thought i knew alot but right now i feel like i know nothing and then there is the fact pretty much everywhere i go in asia i feel assaulted and demeaned by men. i was walking down the street today and the oncoming man felt free to make comment on my chest size. probably because he did not think i would understand what he said...who does that? and can someone tell me why? so i do know that my value is not in how much bengali i know or what my body looks like but it is pretty hard to remember that today. so i am going to work on forgiving him and not letting satan get control of my attitude but i still feel wounded and yes, very human today and even more i feel vulnerable and inadequate. but i am hoping for the "Jesus strength being perfected in my weakness" thing to happen today and all the days after this...

i did the passage from luke 8 this morning for our devotion...the story of jesus healing of the demoniac...as i write i think that applies more and more to my day. i am an imperfect woman...isolated and desperately alone until i allow the master to enter in...cast away the demons--both mine and those from others that assault with comment and stares--he casts them away and says now tell everyone what i have done and yes, i will stay here with you until you can stand on your own but then tell everyone what i have done for you. he has done much and i am trusting Him for more of his amazing grace on me as i walk onthe streets and hope and pray to learn bengali so i can speak fluently at some point in the not so far future.

pray that my brain can grasp what my heart already seems to understand.

My bengali marathon

today kristin said we need to remember that language learning is like a sprint not a marathon--i say that all the time about stuff--especially about living in kolkata--but it was a good reminder that learning a language does not happen by osmosis--though that would be nice--it requires the same discipline and long term thinking that a marathon requires. so language school is off to a good start and i am really in touch with how much i do not know bengali. i am finally literate and can actually read bengali script but i am beyond help in retaining all the new things that i am learning everyday. i need to stop thinking like an english speaker and start thinking like a bengali speaker--which means that when i make trips home i will probably talk funny as my words will be all out of order.

doing an overland border crossing from india to bangladesh is also very much like a marthon and a world class marathoner could probably do a real 26.2 miler faster than we can get our passports stamped to leave india, walk across the border with everyone and their mother asking where you are from and wanting to see your passport--so many times that you are not sure if they are legitmate and need to see it or are just curious to look at your picture even though the live action figure is standing right in front of them--then once across the boarder--other people taking your bags as you hope that you will see them again as you hand off your bus tickets and go to the bangladeshi immigration and a number of other people handle and look at your picture and finally stamp your passport but then someone else has to sign it--and then one must grab a risckshaw-not knowing where our bags have gone to the next bus--which is still not leaving for another hour but thankfully our bags are now in sight and heavly protected by a 10 year old boy. so yes--i think i can be sure that there are some runners who could run a marathon faster than we crossed the border but i know that i can not run a marathon faster so i tried to keep the humilty that saying you ran a marthon in 6 hours requires. really travel in asia is a lesson in humility, patience and thankfulness. thank God for these lessons.

Lament for Today

You are with me God. Are you for me? Are you for them?

I wrenched with sadness that a 19 year old girl will allow herself to be treated like crap by the man who lives off her—he hates her for what she does and yet he makes her do it. She has no reason to be kind—I think I would want to tell the world to go to hell for treating me this way—for allowing this injustice—this oppression for blatantly pressing my face into the dirt.

Do you stand far off God or are you here? Are you with her? Will you save her?

I am angry that someone who should know better—they all should know better—they are men—they are adults—they have mothers, sisters and daughters—will satiate their lust with the body of 14 year old girl. They will call her a whore and will not acknowledge her on the street but they will violate her body—her temple. They make her body a market when it should be sacred. I wanted men to be better, to know better, to see what I see when I go to the gach…beautiful, tender, broken woman who need love and empowerment not to be used…

God will you allow this continue? Are you here? Will you be the Emmanuel of Sonagacchi? Be here God—be here with the women…be here with the men.

I am broken and destroyed that I can walk up the dark unholy stairs to my friend’s home to find her with a western customer. Her sister and her children waiting outside… I saw the man escape down the stairs. His white skin, pony tail and striped shirt blurring past down the stairs away from his sin, his lust, his defamation of the body of my friend. I stood there for a second baffled and then I chased him to find him to ask him…what the heck he was doing and why he felt entitled to have five dollar sex with an 18 year girl...a girl who confesses that she no longer has a heart….who will not leave the trade because she believes that there is no salvation for her, that the darkness of her heart matches the darkness of the stairs that we climb to get to her room. But he was gone when I reached the street.

God did you see what I just saw? I need you to be here with her. Will you return to her what has been stolen not only this time but all the times before this one?

We travel in a mixed world…worlds we think will never collide. But today they collided. Even as we talked about what we would have said to the western man we saw escaping from our friend’s room in Sonagacchi we encountered him. There he was leaving and we were entering for lunch. And the words we wanted to say, to scream, to shout—who do you think you are? Why are you having sex with little girls you creep? But angry words did not come out of our mouths—only “Sir, we saw you today in Sonagacchi” first he smiled and then he turned and walked away as we called “what were you doing there?”

Jesus will you forgive him and help me because I can not. Are you here? Do you see that man’s heart? Do you see mine?

Why would the western man know better…we are all the same. I sat down and prayed for him, forgave and then cursed and hated him. I abhorred him because I know that he represents some part of me—that part of me that can dehumanize another, the part that chooses not to see everyone as valuable, the part that is selfish and lustful. But I am not him but by a grace—a thread of belief, redemption and hope.

Jesus forgive me, help me to forgive him. Love him and pray for him. My hope is you God…the only hope of Sonagacchi is you Jesus. I hope because you are my Hope.

Kristin's Poem

Your Shoes

Sir, I stand outside my friend?s door and stare at your shoes, I wonder who you are and where you came from and why you think that it okay that youcome and have sex with my friend. I wonder, Sir, what has been done to you or what lust controls you that you thinkcoming here is okay. Sir, do you know that my friend?s parents died when she was 12? Do you know thatshe has been working here since she was 14 years old? Do you know that she told meonce that at the age of 17 she had no heart? Sir, I stare at your western shoes and wonder if you think you are getting a waywith this. I wonder if you understand that your momentary satisfaction you gainfrom sleeping with my friend steals another part of her soul. Sir, I see your shoes and they represent to me what I hate. I see your shoes and amreminded how in this place oppression reigns. Jesus says that ?beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news?. But Sir,your feet are ugly and despicable. Your feet bring oppression and fear. They bringlust and selfishness. When you look in the mirror do you hate the man who wears theshoes that sit outside my friend?s door? Do you long to be free from the lust thatentangles you or Sir, are you so lost inside your selfishness that you can only seehow to meet your needs. Because, Sir, You are missing out on life. You are cheating yourself and the othersaround you. You, Sir, are lost. My Jesus is big enough to hold you. My Jesus is big enough to forgive what I feel Ican not. My Jesus is big enough to change your heart and take your shame.So, Sir, I ask you was that five dollars and that hour of your life worth what itcost my friend? Sir, do you know the cost that was paid for your sins? Do you know the love of aFather who weeps over you, who longs to hold you like a son? Do you know that youare the beloved of God? Sir, do you know?

everyday is a lesson in something

We went to the gach today. I went with Kiran and kristin and beth went together. We spent several hours on opposite ends of the street meeting and greeting those we call our friends and those we hope to call our friends. It was really a good day. We spent time in a couple of brothels with some of the ladies--drinking cha and talking about why i am not married and how in america everyone has a "love" marraige not an an arranged marraige. This is a stunning concept to most of the ladies i talk too. if i told them how old i am then they would be really shocked...i try to keep the fact that i am 32 on the down low--women in india who are not married at 32 rarely get married ever...i am hoping that is not the case for me.

We have spent alot of time with one of the girls in her room over the past couple of weeks. i have never seen her out working the line before today--i almost forgot what it is she does to support herself. She keeps telling us that she is leaving the trade and that she is going back to her family in bangladesh--which is great---but she keeps delaying --we are hoping that we can see her at her home in bangladesh on our way home from language school in december. keep her in your thoughts and p's.

3 of us are still scrunched into 2 rooms--sleeping in one room and living in the other. our beds are pressed together with no room in between--maybe i should put up a picture so you can see...but we are hoping to finalize the details of our new place this week before we leave for 4 bangladesh...seems like it might happen. things sure do take a long time here...it would be great to come home and paint and get the place finished and then have a christmas party.

i had lunch with my friend siara yesterday--a feast of beef biriyani--very yummy and a very labor intensive dish over a clay stove with only one burner. I was hoping for lunch by 2 but was super excited to eat when i did at 4pm. nothing like some serious hunger make something good even better. siara is an old friend from when i lived her before and it was a very relaxing afternoon sitting with her while she cooked--talking, drinking masala tea--that is tea with salt in it...talking to the occaisional passerby who very intrigued by a foreign girl sitting on the street enjoying sometime with friend.

still glad to be here...everyday remains a lesson in something....

Kolkata Friends

Some Kolkata Friends

Dillion and Molly (Above)

Maya and ME ( Below)

Diwali Pics--Festival of light

Today's News

The Sad News...
Our friend who we were hoping to plug into a new job with Freeset was again resistant and made excuses about why she could not take the job...we are sad but not hopeless. We remain hopeful and trust that with our encouragement and maybe some prompting from Jesus she will come with us some day soon.

Hate the Drum, not the drummer
Every Puja (Hindu holiday celebrating a god or godess) is marked with very loud noise going very late into the night. And yesterday was the start of DIWALI--festival of light and boy did they drum straight into the middle of the morning. this morning on our 530am run we ran past the drummers sleeping and my first thought was that we should wake them up since they kept us up but then i was reminded that we need to love the drummer and hate the drum.

Still no house
We are still waiting for word on whether we can finalize the contract on our house...we really want to get it done and moved in by the 12th when we leave for language school in bangladesh. pray for us...

The miracle of garbanzo beans
Last night we accomplished the feat of making hummus in India. We soaked dry garbanzo beans and mash them with metal cup and then added olive oil, water, garlic, salt and lime. it was fabulous!! if you want to come and visit i promise to make it for you!!

The train station
I worked at the train station at Sealdah on monday to help out as they were a little short. It was strange to be back walking the platforms...looking for those who are sick or dying. Trying to distinguish between the dying and the sleeping--both postured in the same position. both in need but not in the same way. it is easy to forget how bad the suffering is here...hard to let your mind linger for long on 12 year old little boys sleeping everywhere you look and the one wounded and disfigured who is afraid to look you in the eyes. It is easy to put aside the suffering and exchange it for comfort. It is a very physical spiritual battle that we fight at the train stations...everywhere satan is seeking to marr the face of God by marring the face of a humanity made in his image. It is an honor and priviledge to step into the fray and say--not this man--not today-- at the train station.

and yes, so much an honor to tell a little girl or a struggling mom in the gach that this is not what things are supposed to be like--we were not created for this--they were not created for this...there are glimpses of the garden to seen and lived and a God who can handle our laments and their broken hearts outside the walls of the brothels.

A good story from the other night...

Below is an excerp from Kristin's blog...sometimes there are people looking out for you here. We are super thankful that everything turned out alright...

I was actually stolen from on my way home from the metro last night. i had my bag full o groceries (well...i admit...groceries and 5 diet cokes!!) so my back pack was really heavy. this young guy was walking really close to me and two times stepped on my heels. honestly i though he was just aperver who want to stare at an american woman (this happens regularly). he stepped on my heels twice and i just glared at him from the corner of my eye and though that i will let it happen one more time and then say something to him. well i got home and went to get my keys and found my phone and my wallet gone. I was soooo pissed. it just made me so angry.

the next thing i know the landlord's daughter, moitri, runs up stairs to my house and says she is on the phone with the men who caught the guy who stole from me.

we went down to this small cigarette/ pan store and they told me the owner would come in 15 minutes with my phone.,...and he did.

the men had been watching us walking on the other side of the street and had seen the man take my wallet and phone. they proceeded to catch him and then beat him!!!!!
this indian man told me that he has seen me on sudder st. and knew that i did charity work. everyone knew we spoke bengali and where we lived.

they even knew to call Moitri (how...i don't know). and the most ironice thing is that there was only about 110 ruppees in my bag....that is the equivalent of about $2.00!!!!
it was one of the only times i praised Jesus for being a white girl in India. i actually felt really humbleded afterwards and felt bad for getting so angry.

Pray for Freedom

Kristin who has been here for 2 years and some of the previous WMF staff have established a pretty good relationship with a family of sisters in the Gach. There are three sisters...2 of them live together with the older sisters 4 children in a small room in the Gach. They pay ridulous rent ( a way brothel owners keep the women in bondage) for the small room which is more than what we pay for 2 rooms and a bathroom and a kitchen. Both the women are prostituting but it seems that the older one is ready to leave but she is afraid. Kristin was able to arrange a job opening for her immediately and we have contact that knows of a cheaper place for her and her children to live. if she takes the job working for freeset ( http://www.freesetbags.com/) and moves she will be able to support her family well and be free. she wants to be free--she has said she wants to be free but everytime an opportunity is offered she seems afraid to take it--she told us not today but on monday. so i want to ask you to pray that she will come with us on monday and that she would take hold of the freedom on so many levels that is being offered to her and family. we are hoping that if the older sister takes the first step the other sisters will follow. This family can have a new and better life...this step could protect the woman's 10 year old daughter from a similar fate...please be praying. we will go see them again at around midnight your time on sunday night.

Earthquake Orphans sold into the sex trade

Psalm 10

1 Why, O LORD, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble? 2 In his arrogance the wicked man hunts down the weak, who are caught in the schemes he devises. 3 He boasts of the cravings of his heart; he blesses the greedy and reviles the LORD. 9 He lies in wait like a lion in cover; he lies in wait to catch the helpless; he catches the helpless and drags them off in his net. 10 His victims are crushed, they collapse; they fall under his strength. 11 He says to himself, "God has forgotten; he covers his face and never sees." 12 Arise, LORD! Lift up your hand, O God. Do not forget the helpless. 13 Why does the wicked man revile God?Why does he say to himself, "He won't call me to account"? 14 But you, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand. The victim commits himself to you; you are the helper of the fatherless. 15 Break the arm of the wicked and evil man; call him to account for his wickedness that would not be found out. 16 The LORD is King for ever and ever; the nations will perish from his land. 17 You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted;you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, 18 defending the fatherless and the oppressed, in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2089-1838452,00.html

The Sunday Times October 23, 2005
Earthquake orphans sold into sex trade
by Dean Nelson, Islamabad

SIX-YEAR-OLD Aisha loves the orange blouse and jeans given to herby the kind woman who rescued her from the chaos of the Kashmirearthquake. She snuggles up to her, trying to forget thedevastation of her village home and the deaths of her parents 15days ago.What Aisha does not know is that the woman, Kausar, is aprostitute who has bought her from relatives for 50,000 rupees(£500) and plans to put her to work in the sex trade as soon asshe reaches puberty.Aisha is not alone. According to welfare agencies, many of thehundreds of girls and boys orphaned by the earthquake are beingtargeted by gangs intent on turning them into prostitutes orstreet beggars.Other children are being sold for adoption by their parents inacts of desperation prompted by the destruction of homes andlivelihoods.The Pakistani government is so alarmed by the threat to vulnerablechildren that it has placed armed guards at all hospitals andordered that no child is released to anyone until proof of kinshiphas been verified.A complete ban on adoption was announced after hospitals andemergency shelters were besieged by people offering to takeKashmiri orphans. Staff at the PIMS hospital in Islamabad say anumber of people posing as relatives were caught trying to abductchildren.But according to Manan Rana, a child protection officer workingfor Unicef, the United Nations children's fund, in Muzaffarabad,near the epicentre of the earthquake, local government in Kashmirhas collapsed and officials are unable to provide protection.No official appears to have noticed when Aisha disappeared. Afterher home in a village called Arja was wrecked, she was taken toher grandmother's house in the nearby city of Bagh. Kausar, hernew "carer", who claims the little girl is a distant relative,heard about her plight from family members."Her grandmother was too old to look after the girl. I went toBagh on October 12 and I got her very cheap. A pimp from Lahoremight have paid 100,000 rupees," she said."I will provide a good education for her. I would not like her tobe a cheap, third-class prostitute. I do care about the girl. Iwill take good care of her, and then reap the benefit. I'mproviding for her protection and I don't care what Allah thinks."Kausar said she was earning £200 a month from prostitution, butcould earn thousands more from Aisha. She will sell the girl'svirginity to the highest bidder when she reaches puberty andexpects to get up to £2,000 for that alone. "She could start workas soon as she has her first period," Kausar said.If Aisha refuses to work as a prostitute, she will be sold to apimp, Kausar said. She may sell Aisha sooner if she is offered£1,000, but she would not pass her on to whites or non-Muslims,she said, and she would not consider any intervention by thisnewspaper.By contrast the family of Summaya, 7, managed to escape thedestruction of their house in Muzaffarabad, but her parents nowplan to sell her for adoption so that they can buy a new one.Her mother, Rafia, 38, said they were hoping a good family wouldpay £2,500 for her and would allow them to visit her."My husband is a daily wage labourer and he's been selling bloodfor 400 rupees (£4) a pint," said Rafia. "If our problems areresolved, we will not sell the girl. I love her. I know anotherfamily will never be able to give the love a real mother can, butwe have to compromise."Mohammad Hassan Mangi, director of Pakistan's National Commissionfor Child Welfare and Development, said the government had setaside funds to make sure every family affected could rebuild theirhome. He asked to be put in contact with Summaya's family."The government is giving $10,000 (about £5,650) compensation foreach person killed in the quake. If this woman is affected, shewill definitely get a home," he said.For Aisha, however, there is little anyone can do. After beinginterviewed, Kausar vanished into Islamabad's vice world, takingAisha's future with her. o The first of three Chinook helicopterssent by Britain to help ferry supplies to remote areas of theearthquake zone left RAF Odiham in Hampshire yesterday. The twoother aircraft are due to to be airlifted out today aboard C-17transport planes.
The rising death tollConfirmed deaths: 51,139Injured: 70,000

This is message is forwarded to you by the:Initiative Against Sexual Traffickingc/o The Salvation Army USANational Headquarters

The WMF Kolkata Team

So here we are in Calcutta...Beth, Kristin and Sarah...the team. Pray for us!!

Pics of the the potential "New House aka Sari Bari"

Check it out...the potential new place.

beyond mere existance...

Now for more than three days straight it has been raining. everything is damp and we can not do luadry because it may never dry. the rain in calcutta slows and dampens everything from the ability to travel to your clothes. this rain could steal my joy but the rain is only rain and today i feel so grateful for my parents, my friends and family who have loved me well. because of that love i am be where i am now....if have been given dignity, love and value from my birth till now and there so many here who do not know life beyond mere existance.

My main thought today is that the greatest gift we can give each other and our to the children we love is diginity and value....modeled after christ...the ultimate giver of worth as we lives as sons and daughters of the king. We have the opportunity to instill a deep sense of value and self worth, critical thinking skills and an internal motivation (because God loves me, because someone loves me, because i love me) ...something that we do not see very much of in sonagacchi...the women exist only. they cook, they clean, the work but they do not see much joy, or feel free to make a choice or welcome a opportunity to move beyong where they are right now. An opportunity for a better life is a scary choice when no one has taught or instilled in you that you can make good choices, that you deserve good things and that you even if you fail you are loved. So love each other well my friends and you can change the world. pray that we can love the women and children of sonagacchi into a new life beyond mere existance.

RAIN, RAIN ALL DAY RAIN

So it has been raining for the last 24 hours and Calcutta being basically on a swamp is flooded and extra fun today. We have seen people waist deep and have found ourselves walking in water as deep as just below the knee. It is still raining...rain kind of slows everything down makes getting around more difficult as we walk most places... we have found ourselves wet alot. sad i do not have my camera today.

New day, new thoughts...

Today we got to see what will hopefully be our new apartment. It is huge with 6 rooms and 2 bathrooms. and a nice large kitchen...we are really excited and hopeful that it will not only be home to us but to many others in the future--whether it be girls or teams or just all you lovely people are going to come visit.

today was a really good day. basically because i felt normal and it was as normal as a calcutta day can be. We did pilates, we prayed and worshiped jesus and then we saw the new apartment and spent several hours in the gach with some sweet ladies and i got to see kiran have a wonderfully deep and meaningful converstation about faith with one of the girls. it was a hope full day.

I have been using an amazing devotional book that was given to my by Emily Timm that keep rockin my world every time i read it...call instrument of thy peace by seabury. He basically reflects on the st. francis prayer...lord make me an instrument of your peace...probably my favorite so far is the reflection on...

Where there is hatred let me sow love.... St. francis

"The petition of st francis may be taken for the moment in an easier way, namely that asks to be the reconciler of those who hate one another, or that he asks to be able to soften the heart of the one who hates and to heal the grief and resentment and lostness of the one who is hated. This is something that we can ask ourselves. we can plead with those who hate, and encourge those who are hated; we can mediate between those who hate one another...To be an instrument of God peace is not to confine oneself to the field of personal relationships but to concern oneself also with the problems of human society, hunger, poverty, injustice, cruelty, eploitation, war."

I have been really challenged as the author reflects on the individual parts of the prayer--where there is doubt bring faith, where there is despair hope....I am sure i will have more reflections as i continue to read.