Light in Dark Places

First off, I apologize for not writing sooner, but the electricity was out in the computer room for several days. So much has happened since my last update and I’m not really sure where to start.

The one thing that comes to mind, is the passage God gave me about a year ago, when He placed on my heart a desire for India:

“Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen and will see of Me. I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them to open their eyes and turn them from darkness into light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in Me” (Acts 26: 16-18).

This verse has become an actuality. God has put me here to be a servant and a witness, to bring the light of Jesus into dark places.

There is such a tremendous need at the Home. The girls’ hostel houses about 100 girls, with only one “house mother” to take care of them. Her name is Mary and she shoulders a huge responsibility, taking care of the girls day in and day out. When I first met Mary, she came across as cold and harsh in the way she treated the girls (sometimes she can be very strict with them), but I soon discovered she has a soft heart full of love for them. She said to me, “These children, my children.” She knows about every single girl, what situation she came from and what her needs are. Mary meets with Sornakumari every day and they pray for the children together.

The needs are overwhelming! Many of the children come from broken or abandoned families. Many of them are very poor and have been funded by the government to stay at CMML. Some have alcoholic fathers. Some are fatherless, or motherless, or completely orphaned. For many of the girls, the Home is like a boarding school. On holidays they return home to their families, which means seeing their parents or relatives only a few times a year.

It is evident that the girls are starving for love and attention. One little girl is always sucking her thumb. Whenever I catch her doing it, I’ll gently slap her hand. She laughs because she thinks it’s funny, but I sense something deeper behind it. At nine-years old she should be way beyond that habit. I suspect she does it to comfort herself because her mother is far away. Sometimes the girls are homesick; they cry and try to hide it.

Every minute of the day I spend in the hostel, the girls are crowding around me, clamoring for my constant attention. One is crying because she has a sliver in her toe, another is offering me some treats in newspaper wrapping, another is grabbing my hands and trying to get me to play a clapping game, another is showing me her English homework.

Each girl, from youngest to oldest, is so special and beautiful. I love them very much. Each day I pray that God’s perfect love will reign in my heart, filling me with compassion and patience for them. Sometimes this is very difficult but somehow God always provides the strength. He says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

At first my biggest challenge was trying to learn the names of all the girls. Indian names can be very long and difficult to pronounce! By God’s grace He’s helping me learn the names, and I’ve begun to cultivate friendships with the girls. The little girls need a mother, someone to take care of them and play games with them. The older girls need a friend, an older sister, someone to encourage them and make them feel valued. It’s amazing because I came to India, asking God to make me a blessing to others and everyone here has been a blessing to me! A day doesn’t go by without kind words and deeds from the girls. They are constantly trying to please and be welcoming towards me. The one thing they always insist upon is bringing me a chair to sit on!

The first week here, I slept in the room the Sornaraj family gave me in their house. But then Sornakumari told me of the need for someone to stay with the littlest girls in the hostel. Sometimes they wake up crying in the middle of the night and want someone to comfort them. This really pulled at my heart. God was whispering something there. The room in the hostel is dark, stuffy and lice-infested; the mattress is thin and it’s definitely not as comfortable as the room in the house, but it's exactly where I need to be.

When I first told the girls I would be staying in the hostel, they were delighted. The little ones jumped up and down, clapping their hands. Some of the older ones helped move the bed into the room (they are so sweet!) The room is for standard 1, 2, and 3 (here in India they say “standard” instead of “grade”). There are 12 little girls in the room. Manithai, a fun-loving, mischief maker. Magesvari – bubbly and so so cute. Chithra – very needy, wants constant attention. Selvi – Manithai’s sister, quiet, a very sweet smile. Radisvari – always wearing pigtails, cheerful and polite. Vigithra – she has the biggest, most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Kamalla – a tiny little thing, can be bossy. Mahalaksmi – always insists on kissing me goodnight, several times! Muruheswari – her younger sister, huge, adorable eyes, very shy. Manju – constantly sucking her thumb, so sweet. Kaviya – Manju’s sister, an energetic little imp.

This does not describe my precious girls in the least! They are so wonderful and full of life. I just love being with them. Each night before we go to bed, we gather together on the floor to pray.  I’ve grown accustomed to covering my head during prayer because this is what the Indian women do. The other night I put my shawl over my head, and the little girls, wanting to imitate me, pulled bedsheets over their own heads. It was so adorable! After prayer they all lay down on their mats and one by one I kiss them each goodnight. Then I sing to them as they fall asleep.

The first night doing this, it really hit me: the Lord brought me here … to India … to this place … to this little dark room in the hostel … to be a mother to these girls. My heart aches for them, yet I am filled with so much joy as well. God is the Father to the fatherless. He carries these children close to His heart like lambs.

My prayer is this: to somehow, in the smallest way, communicate even a fraction of His perfect love to these, who I am called to serve.

"To open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light ..."

Clothes hanging to dry.

A rickshaw parked outside the Christian Mission Hospital.

Some of the hostel boys after school is out.

Two of the hostel girls, Venmathy and Valarmathy.

The assembly building.