He Sustains Me

Every time I sit here at the computer to type a new post, I always wonder how my words can possibly describe everything here. There is so much happening every day, so many precious moments, and sorrowful ones too, so much newness and strangeness, and then the joy which flows in and through all of these things … how can one describe joy?

Lord, I accept whatever You give me.

I think that if someone can say that truly, from a pure heart, then they have discovered real joy. I myself am so far from where I should be. But still my Creator loves me.

Oh Lord, let me not think of the need, but the One who fills the need. Let me not think of the sorrow, but the One who brings the joy in the morning. Let me not think of my weakness and unworthiness, but Your all-sufficiency …

God did not lie when He said, “Those who fear Me lack nothing” (Psalm 34:9).

________

The days pass quickly, like a fleeting wind. At first it made me anxious as I thought, “I only have a week left with the girls!” But now I can dwell in His calm, because He says, “Do not think about the time you have left with them. I am not bound by time.”

I am so thankful to the Lord that He is guiding me. Without Him I would be so lost. Really. Sometimes I wonder what to do with the children, how to help them, how to meet the needs …

And then finally I stopped running around, stopped trying to do everything and just rested in Him. Now I can hear His voice! Now I have the assurance of Him leading me each step. He is my Shepherd and I just have to follow Him wherever He goes. Why do we often over-complicate things that are really quite simple? Just trust in Jesus. He knows best!

I will boast in Him alone (Psalm 34:2). Can I also boast in His beloved children? Each day I become more and more aware how precious they are, and my heart just aches … Just look at these lovely faces …

Muthumari

Meena

Kulanthai Selvi

Malathi

Srimathy and her little brother

Kamalla

Each day, each moment with the girls is so precious. After school is over in the evenings, I go to the hostel and play with the children. Yesterday some of the younger ones brought me outside under the trees and we played “Countries.” In the sand they drew squares in the dirt, each one representing a different place. It’s hard to explain but basically you win when you take over the other countries (kind of like a live version of the board game Risk). We had so much fun together.

The laughter of the children I will never forget. They are so cute and so easily amused by everything! They love the simplest things, like me holding their hands while they jump high into the air, or making funny faces, or tickling them. Sometimes in the evenings I will show them some of the picture books I brought. Sometimes I help the older ones with their English homework. Sometimes I teach them songs. Sometimes they try to teach me songs. Sometimes there are quarrels that need to be resolved. Sometimes scraped knees that need to be washed and bandaged. All of it is a joy.

Last night some of the girls were making jasmine flower wreaths. Jasmine flowers grow in large fields. They are tiny little white things, which are strung together with thread and worn in the hair. Jasmine has such an intoxicating smell, just like perfume. The flowers looked so lovely in the girls’ black hair. They all came to me saying, “Sister, sister! My hair, beautiful?” “Yes, yes, very very beautiful!” And their eyes were shining up at me like stars.

Thinking about leaving the girls makes my heart ache. I don’t want to leave them! And they don’t want me to leave either. Already some of them are crying that I am leaving. Athilakshmi, whom I adore with all my heart, sometimes just stares at me, and tears well up in her big brown eyes and I know what she’s thinking. She stays by my side almost constantly, holding my hand tightly. Last night she wrote me a beautiful little letter that made me cry.

________

Sometimes I spend some time with the boys too, but most of the time it is not possible because I am with the girls so much. The boys are wonderful as well … though very wild and rowdy. They love showing off their skills. They love goofing around. They love teasing each other. They love sports. Just like Canadian boys. The little ones are so adorable. 

One little boy in particular has just captured my heart. His name is Rengith and his sisters, Malathi and Rahini are two of our hostel girls. Rengith and Rahini are twins. Rengith is one of my students and when I first met him, he was very rough and wild. It was difficult to control him during class because he would always be talking and hitting others, and playing with things in his hands. He didn’t really strike me as different from any of the other boys. But then one night I had a very vivid dream. In it I was sitting on the ground and Rengith was in my lap. I was holding him tightly in my arms, as if to protect him. My heart was just exploding with love for him. The purest love I've ever felt.

For the next few days, the dream was in my mind constantly. God has filled me with a unexplained longing and burden for this little boy. Since the dream I have been praying a lot for Rengith, and his sisters too. There is just something about them that makes me ache. One day their mother came and took them away. They were going to a Hindu festival. As I watched them leave, I felt so helpless and all I could do was pray over and over, “Oh, Lord, please protect them. Please God, let them not bow down to those idols …” 

I do not know the spiritual state of the children, but I pray for them daily that they will believe in the Lord Jesus. Now I am wondering about Rengith’s sister Malathy. The past few weeks I have noticed something very different about her. When I first met her (oh, that seems so long ago now), she seemed troubled deep inside. She was always upset and crying about something, a frown creasing her face. Now she is so happy. There is a loveliness, a shining in her eyes that was not there before. The shining comes especially when I sing about Jesus. Has she in her little heart accepted Him along the way? I hope so! And what else could explain this transformation? Even in the littlest things she is different … calm, peaceful, and compassionate towards others. Before she would push and yell at her little sister, Rahini. But yesterday the girls were all crowding around me, wanting me to take their arms so they could jump high. Malathy was one of the first in line, but she suddenly brought Rahini to the front, so she could go first. It was such a little thing that I almost missed it, but it was so special. 

God is faithful in all things, and He will bring forth the fruit in its proper time.

________

My Lord has been faithful with the work in the school also. I haven’t written much about the school so I will do so now. Each morning I teach from 11:15-12:30 in the first and second standard class, under the guidance of the teacher Jessie. The routine looks like this: first, all the students are together in one room (first and second). They sit on the floor in a rectangle. There are no desks. The classroom is a made of crude concrete, with blackboards as walls. We do rhymes, songs, role play, and conversation practice. One of our songs goes like this, “Quack, quack, says the duck! Moo, moo, says the cow! Kaa, kaa, says the crow! Meow, meow, says the cat! Bow, wow, says the dog! Hello, hello, says the child!” There are actions too. The children love it!  Today they listened really well so I gave them all a sticker on their hand. It’s amazing how small things bring so much joy.

At 11:45, I take the second standard students into the next room and teach them only. This is my favourite time. My students are so precious to me: Pavithra, Vijayakanth, Rahini, P. Mathavan, V. Mathavan, Kanagaraj, Sathya, Selvi, Emersan, Rengith, Mugesh, Chithra, Kamalla, Vijithra. Most of the school children are from the hostel, but some of them, like Mugesh, Pavithra and Sathya, live in the village. They are called the “day scholars.” During this time we do reading and writing. There is are curriculum cards we follow, where the children have to practice speaking with different activities. The children copy down English words into their 4-line notebooks from the blackboard. Usually they write the words 5 times each. The children always love it when I checkmark their work because I will often give stickers. They so desperately want to please. Despite that however, they are often unmanageable. When I first started teaching them, they were wild and out of control, hitting each other, playing, talking, not listening at all. We were all squished together on the verandah because the classroom was under construction. 

But now … the children are calm and well-behaved. They all sit in their assigned place on the floor and when I walk in the room they all stand up and say, “Good morning, teacher,” like they are supposed to. Who could transform them, but God alone?? They are all so different now! God has provided so wonderfully for us. He helped me find notebooks for the children in S--- and He gave me my own classroom (with a blackboard!) I didn’t think I could be so thankful for such simple things. Something like a pencil sharpener has become so precious … because we only have one.

_______

Now there is just a week left here at the Home. It’s hard to believe that my time here is almost over. Soon I will be coming home again … but I don’t want to think about that now. There is still much work left to do here. And in everything, He gives me strength. Now He will supply the faith needed for the tasks ahead. 

Please pray unceasingly for us, because the enemy always tries to discourage. 

Here is a specific prayer request: this coming Saturday (the 26^th) I will be going to a nearby village with Jessie, the first and second standard teacher. She has asked me to preach a message to some Christian ladies there and she will translate for me. There will be about 60 or 70 women attending. Please pray that God will give His Holy Spirit without measure, that He will provide the perfect words to say, and that there will be complete peace in my heart. 

Thank you so much everyone, for all your prayers. I will see you all soon. God bless!

“The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear Him, and He delivers them” (Psalm 34:7).

Tears

Let it not be misunderstood. Missions work is not romantic. Perhaps the thought of journeying to a foreign country to do the work of God sounds like a thrilling adventure. And initially it is. When I first arrived in India everything around me was new and exciting … the sights, the sounds, the smells. But now I am faced with daily challenges. The same routine every day, the heaviness of responsibility, the great need to love the children unconditionally, in all circumstances.

It all comes down to what Jesus said in Luke 9:23: “If anyone would come after Me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me.”

There is a certain type of bird here … it looks something like a wren or a sparrow. It is black in colour, tinged with gray, and has white-tipped wings. Around its eyes is a streak of bright yellow. A simple bird, but quite beautiful. The butterflies are lovely too. They flutter around too fast for me to describe them, but some are white, some orange, some yellow. I have yet to see a peacock, but one of the schoolgirls gave me a small peacock feather as a gift. I was studying it today and was delighted with the bright, silvery blue and green colours. These are beautiful things.

Yesterday I saw a big rat in Mary Amma’s room, under the cooking shelf. It was fat and ugly with a long, slinking tail. There are bugs and beetles also. Often I’ll find spider-like bugs dropping on me from nowhere, leaping from one place to the next. Once I saw a huge, black beetle and one of the girls communicated to me that if you step on it, it lets off a horrid stink. Yuck.

What do birds and bugs and beetles have to do with anything? I suppose it’s a reminder to me that our life is sometimes beautiful and sometimes ugly. Sometimes there are green meadows, sometimes rocky hills.

There is certainly nothing “beautiful” about a cross …

Why a cross, Lord? Jesus Himself knew it was the only way, even when He prayed for the cup to be taken from Him, if possible. He knew from the beginning of time He would have to die.

God often calls us to walk a road of pain and sacrifice too. How else can we become so aware of how much we need Him? How else can we praise Him for His goodness and faithfulness through dark and rocky places? How else can we truly know Him if we do not fellowship in His sufferings?

Life here in India is difficult. The sorrows and sufferings of the people all around me sometimes seems too difficult to bear.

The little motherless boy who runs to me in delight, calling me “Mother! Mother!”

The old man hobbling in front of the mission hospital. One eye is sealed shut. He gratefully receives the biscuits and water I offer him, his hand pressed against his heart.

The teenage girl who weeps in front of me, as she tells me her father is a drunkard and her family has no money. “I am a poor girl, Sister,” she cries out brokenly.

The “untouchable” lady who can barely afford to eat ... her husband sick in the hospital. What peace can she know without Jesus?

The bare, shaved heads of little girls returning from the temple, hideous jewelry clinging to their arms, necks and legs.

The older students sitting listlessly during Sunday class, only pretending to listen to the message that will save their eternal soul.

The choked cry of a boy who has been beaten by another, his ear swollen in size.

The girl putting the only hair clip she owns into her beautiful but lice-infested hair ...

God has brought me here to India to love these people, these children. It is a narrow, rocky road. It is not easy being surrounded by one hundred love-starved children each day. It is not easy to be loving and kind every moment. Sometimes they fight and argue and do not listen. Sometimes they take advantage of you and do things behind your back. Sometimes patience runs thin and anger seems to rise. Sometimes exhaustion threatens to overwhelm you. Sometimes the enemy howls at you. Sometimes you make mistakes and wish you could have done things differently. Sometimes you wonder if you are really making any difference. Sometimes the language problem seems to barricade everything. Sometimes the heart feels no love at all …

But all the time, God is there. All the time, His love surrounds and covers over. All the time, His faithfulness abounds. All the time, His mercy and grace flow. All the time His peace settles everything. All the time, His presence remains.

I am small, but God is so big. One day I inwardly cried to the Lord, “Oh God, I just want to LOVE them so much more than I do!” And instantly there came a voice, an answer I shall never ever forget:

“I love them. My love is enough.”

It doesn’t matter how inadequate I sometimes feel and how many times I fail, His love holds me fast. His love is before me and it is behind me. It is on all sides, under and over. As long as I dwell in Him, as long as I remain in the eternal Vine, His love will continue to flow through me to these precious children.

“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord” (Psalm 27:14).

It is no accident that David repeats himself. We must wait for Him. We must be still and know Him. And He will help us on the rocky way … He knows the path of suffering very well. I am learning each day to lean completely on His everlasting arm and just let Him do the work.

But I must always be willing to follow Him. And when we truly follow, there will always be joy.

“Send forth Your light and Your truth, let them guide me; let them bring me to Your holy mountain, to the place where You dwell" (Psalm 43:3).

Still

Just to be still ...
Just to stop striving and be quiet ...
Just to trust in Jesus ...
... and not be afraid.

This little story came to me beautifully today:

Imagine a lake, completely flat and calm, without the slightest ripple of a wave. Then imagine dropping a little stone in that lake. The effect is enormous, as a circle grows and grows from that spot. You know it as the ripple effect.

Now imagine the same lake during a storm. Fierce winds, angry waves crashing and slapping against each other. Drop a little stone in the lake now. What effect is there? None at all of course.

We are that lake. It is only when we are still, calm, quiet, that God can really speak to us. His words are like that small stone making a huge effect (His transforming power).

But there can be no understanding of God, no acceptance of His voice, when we are ruffled and anxious.

Oh, let us be that peaceful, still lake today.

I Will Give Her a Heart to Know Me

Today I was encouraged by this devotional from Amy Carmichael:

     “See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come … the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise … come with Me! The Lord your God is with you … He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.”

     This morning, my helpers turned my chair, so that I could see the leafy enclosure upon which my room opens … And all this sweet greenness and dewy freshness is a message:

     Leaves and flowers – down to the least bud – are nourished by the living sap within. They do not cause it to rise, or regulate its flow. They do not understand its mysterious power. But as it flows through them, it revives them. Renews them.

     We may have others to help us. Or we may have no one. But whether we are set in families or must face circumstances alone, we know that we must depend on something that is not of ourselves to keep us fresh and green.

     Sometimes we are too spent even to pray for this renewing life to flow within.

     We need not pray! There are times when all that is asked of us is just what is asked of leaves and flowers: They remain in the plant; the sap flows up to them: 
     “As the Father has loved Me, so I have loved you. Now remain in My love” (John 15:9).

     The most tired of us can remain, stay there, be there – no words can be too simple to explain what our Lord means by this: He says simply, “Do not go away.” 
     Even if we are completely silent, asking nothing, only letting our hearts rest in quietness in Him … He will cause the renewing life-sap to rise …

     The things we would least choose to have are ‘round about us. But in these things, says Rutherford, “Do not let yourself be thrown down or give in to despair. Stand evenly at the will of God ... For after winter comes summer. After night comes dawn. And after every storm, there comes clear, open skies.”

~ Amy Carmichael, excerpt Rose From Brier

We woke up early and traveled by car to Tirunelveli, a beautiful city, much more spacious than the other Indian cities I've seen. This is where Amma and Priscilla had to go to the hospital. We left them there and continued on -- Appa, Florian, myself and Appa's younger brother. As we drove, the landscape varied from flat, barren fields of scrub brush and electric towers, to lush, green paddy fields and forests of banana trees. It took us only a few hours to reach Dohnavur. As we approached the village (there is the village and the fellowship by the same name), the roads grew extremely narrow and rutted. Now I understand what Amy Carmichael meant when she wrote about the roads being bad. But it would have been much worse back then, and they travelled by bullock cart. We followed a path with red-coloured walls on both sides and then we were in Dohnavur.

Right away I was struck by its quiet beauty. All the buildings were perfectly situated, made of rust-coloured brick and Japanese-style roofing with curled corners. Everything was lovely and green, flowers of all colours and kinds to be found everywhere, bright red dirt paths. There were similarities to our village, in that when I looked around I could say, yes ... this is definitely Tamil Nadu (the tamarind trees, the ornate architecture, and of course the red roads) but I also felt I had stepped into another world, completely separate from the rest of India. There wasn't the same dryness found in Vadamalapuram, but a beautiful lushness and coolness and freshness ... everything clean and perfectly in order ...To see a place so clean, without any garbage or litter on the ground was shocking for me, because in India there is garbage everywhere.

We were taken into the house where Amy Carmichael lived. The moment we entered I was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of joy and peace. Everything about the house communicated to me the presence of God Himself. There was a holiness and cleanliness there; perfect order. Above one of the doors was one of the few photos of Amy, and under it a bible plaque: Love never faileth. Another plaque read: That in all things He might have the preeminence. There were photos of the Fellowship in early years mounted on the walls, as well as a picture of lotus flowers. "Lotus buds" was Amy's special name for her children. 

Two older ladies met us: Sura and Jewel. Sura is the current president of the Dohnavur Fellowship and Jewel is one of the workers. Both knew Amy Carmichael when they were very young. They wore plain saris of blue and green, without fancy prints. We sat in chairs at a low table and they gave us the sweetest, freshest lemonade I've ever tasted. Sura told us about Amy's life, how the work began with the first temple child named Preena, and what's happening today. Currently there are no boys at the home, only girls, because of some government problems. Many of the children are from missionary parents. They stay in cottages on the compound; about 8 girls per one akka (older sister).

Another lady, whose name I cannot remember, showed us the rest of the house. We entered the Room of Prayer, a circular room with wide windows from which hung plain blue curtains. There were beautiful bible verses on wooden plaques there as well. Here are some of the verses: How great is His goodness, how great is His beauty! (Funny how this is the very same verse I had read that morning). And ... They saw no man save Jesus only. This is also one of my favourites.

When I saw those words on the wall, so simple and powerful, my eyes welled up with tears. Oh the truth of it! The very truth ... which was expressed totally in the evidence of Amy's life; evidence which was then all around me.

It became more beautiful as we journeyed on. We came to Amy's bedroom, where she spent the last 20 years of her life in debiliatating sickness. Mounted on the wall was the real head of a tiger. One time, the Lord saved the children of Dohnavur from the danger of a tiger. Later the tiger was found and killed and Amy was asked if she wanted the head. She accepted, wanting the children to be reminded of God's miraculous protection.

More snippets of bible verses and other God-given phrases ... which encapsulated her life ...

For He hath not given us a spirit of fear ...

I know. Fear not. Ask Him. ...

A very present help ...

Good and acceptable and perfect ...

Our guide showed us a little table with a beautiful glass fish bowl from Japan. When the children came to Amy's room, she would show them the brightly-coloured fish swimming in the bowl. "What do you see through the glass, my darlings?" "Fish, of course, Amma," was the reply. And then she told them their lives should be like that glass: utterly transparent.

On the floor of the room, were four marks where Amy's bed once was ... where she spent all those years, writing letters and books, praying faithfully for her Dohnavur family and intimately acquainting herself with her Lord Jesus. There were wide windows ... open to the wonderful garden of flowers beside the verandah. The breeze that drifted in was drenched in the sweetness of those flowers. Birds often came to the windows and Amy fed them, we were told. And the birds still come. 

Next we went to the House of Prayer, where Sunday services are held. It is a beautiful old building, with a huge tower at the front, from which hangs thick green moss. The church was spacious and spotless; the architecture was amazing ... but what really struck me was how quiet and holy it was. We were told the story of how Dohnavur desperately needed a hospital. God specifically instructed Amy first to build His house and trust that He would afterwards provide a hospital. When they began to build, they had no money at all, but the money came at the perfect time.

We journeyed up to the tower -- the most narrow, winding stairs I've ever seen (literally the width of a chair). When we reached the top, we were in a square box with a huge set of chimes in the middle. We opened the windows and were overwhelmed by the gloriousness of the view. For miles, all you could see were lush green trees, mountains tall and majestic against the sky, and all the red-roofed cottages of Dohnavur far below. Our guide played a hymn for us on the chimes and it was inexpressibly lovely. There was something of heaven itself in that place ... the stillness broken only by clear, sweet chimes. Wind floated in, bringing with it rain. My face at the edge of the window was pelted by the drops as I looked out over that vast space ... 

How great is His goodness, how great is His beauty!

Hardly a word could I utter. Just to be still and feel those raindrops, to hear the chimes ringing ... was enough. Then I looked up and noticed there were the words of a familiar hymn painted on wooden boards against the roof of the tower: "Breathe on me, breath of God, Until my heart is pure, Until with Thee I will one will, To do and to endure."

My soul was watered in that place, flooded with rivers of God, for the work still left for me at CMML.

Last of all, we were taken to God's Garden, a cemetery. Under umbrellas we walked down a pathway, bordered by red-brick walls, and at the end of it came to a cross. A simple, stone cross, erected under a very old tree. Beyond that, almost invisible because of the trees, was a bird bath, marking the place of Amy Carmichael's grave. It was the only thing she allowed for her burial place, saying that, "If you must put anything there, then put a bird bath, so at least the birds can come and drink water."

I felt quite speechless at the end of the visit. When I was a small child I read the story of how Amy, a small child also, longed for blue eyes, instead of brown ones. In recent years, I read more of her and was astonished by her faithfulness as a missionary in India. Her writing has been a great source of comfort, joy, and encouragement to me, from one who walked the narrow road of the cross so faithfully. It was actually while reading Amy's book, "Mimosa," that my heart felt it's first tug to come to India. God is so good. Who would have thought, when I first heard God calling me there, that He would allow for me to come to Dohnavur? I feel blessed to have visited the place for just a few hours.

And now my words are quite done. So I will end with a photograph and a song.


The passion flower. This small thing gently reveals to us our Blessed Lord. LOOK ... three nails ... his hands and feet pierced ... five wounds ... head, hands, feet, side ... red ... his blood spilled ... purple ... the robe, the crown of thorns.



And the words of this song flow beautifully into this ...

"At the foot of the cross

Where grace and suffering meet

You have shown me Your love

Through the judgment You received

And You've won my heart

Yes, You've won my heart

Now I can trade these ashes in for beauty

And wear forgiveness like a crown

Coming to kiss the feet of mercy

I lay every burden down

At the foot of the cross

At the foot of the cross

Where I am made complete

You have given me life

Through the death You bore for me

And You won my heart

Yes, You won my heart"

- Kathryn Scott

My Cup Overflows

The Lord sent a little messenger to me today, to remind me of His promise. After class at the school, Meena, one of the hostel girls ran up to me and handed me a "gift." It was a piece of paper folded up and it read: "To Meena and Gracie Sister." I think it was supposed to say, "To Gracie Sister, from Meena." Inside was a beautiful note: "Gracie Sister, I love you." And then a bible verse, written in perfect English: "I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow" (Jeremiah 31:13).

How I needed to be reminded! The enemy had been hurling his fiery darts at me all day. Discouragement. Despair. Weakness. Exhaustion. Impatience. Doubt.

The Lord lifted up my face to His, so that I could see that things are not as they appear to be always. It may seem like we are so finished ... but His strength comes. I can testify to say that the strength of the Lord comes! His word says, "I will go before you and will level the mountains."

It wasn't until I threw myself at the feet of my Shepherd, letting go of everything I had so tightly clung to, that He willingly poured Himself, His joy, into my heart.

Tonight joy overflowed in rivers at the hostel. There were only 46 girls because many left to see their parents. There is a Hindu festival going on now in Tamil Nadu. (When is there not a Hindu festival??) That part was not joyful. I can only pray that those precious children will refuse to bow to the idols at the temple. I pray their hearts will, deep inside, understand the idols are utterly worthless, neither seeing or speaking. Manju, Kaviya, Mageswari, Vijithra and Rahini gone. Our little room feels quite empty without them.

But there was joy with the few who remained. Running, playing, tickling, laughing, singing, dancing. The girls begged for me to sing the "Papaya song," a bible camp song I grew up with. They love it, and it's perfect for India because it talks about all the fruits they are familiar with. "I like bananas, I know the mangoes are sweet. I like papayas! PAPAYAS! But nothing can beat, the sweet love of God ... da-doo-da-dee-wop, da-doo-da-dee-wop-do-wop ..." The girls also love: "I've got peace like a river ... joy like a fountain ... love like an ocean ... in my soul ..." As we sang, all of those wonderful things, peace, joy, love were reality for us.

Selvi and Ragiswari, two of the remaining girls from my room, were so adorably cute. They were giggling hysterically. Their laughter was infectious and we all joined in. They thought it was a great joke to arrange their pillows under the blankets, so it looked like their little bodies were there, fast asleep, when really they were hiding behind the door. My words are not enough to describe the joy, the laughter, the wonderful sense of happiness being together as a family.

There's a lovely lady at the hostel who I must write about. Her name is Antony and her daughters, Veeralakshmi and Malathy are two of our girls. Antony works in the kitchen as a cook, preparing all the meals for the children. The fires through which she has walked are unimaginable. Day after day her drunken husband beat her and the children. Then he left her to marry another woman. She was in so much despair she gave poison to her daughters, intending afterwards to kill herself also. By the grace of God, though the children drank the poison, they did not die. Sometime afterward, Antony found the Lord Jesus and was brought to the Children's Home. The Lord literally reached down from on high, took hold of them and drew them out of deep waters (Psalm 18:16). He provided a job for Antony, where she can work with her own hands and help support her children. By His own hand He has given her and her daughters food, rest, shelter, protection.

Last night Antony was dancing up and down the verandah, the ends of her lovely blue sari fluttering behind her. She was singing too, her face aglow with gladness. We were all watching her, laughing with joy. Mary Amma said to me: "She is happy. Before all the time husband beat. Now ... free." I've never seen someone with so much joy. Antony ... only one year saved, has more joy than the lifetime supply of many.

The enemy is cast aside but not gone completely. In India women have little power. Antony wishes to divorce her husband but cannot, for he threatens to kill her if she does. And Mary said he would do it. But God will protect them.  

"He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support. He brought me into a spacious place; He rescued me because He delighted in me" (Psalm 18:17-19).

The joy of the Lord is our strength.

That is all for now. Tomorrow we are going to Dohnavur, the place where Amy Carmichael established her ministry, which continues to this day. I am so excited for this! Appa is also taking us to Kanniyakumari, a place on the ocean. I've never seen the ocean before ... I can hardly wait!!

Joy. Beauty. Gladness.

“You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat” (Isaiah 25:4)

“Do not be afraid little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom”

“In the morning, O Lord, You hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before You and wait in expectation” (Psalm 5:3)

These are a few verses the Lord has shown me over the past few days. He is my strength each hour. I would be nothing without Him, and I am realizing that more and more. There is no possible way of loving the children on my own. There is no possible way of having the strength for daily tasks on my own. There is no possible way to be wise enough, clever enough to know what to do in each situation. The Lord alone provides all of this. May He be forever praised. Jehovah Jireh is my provider. Whatever we need, He supplies for us.

The hostel has become my home. The younger children now call me “Gracie Amma” or “Mummy,” and they are also like daughters to me. I have discovered so much joy taking care of them hour by hour. There is no fear in such love.

Several nights ago was one of the sweetest times of my life. After supper at the mission house, I returned to the hostel for the night. Most of the children had already gone to sleep, but Manithai and Mageswari were still awake, whispering and giggling together. I could have scolded them and made them go to sleep, but felt it was a precious nugget of time to spend with them. So for a little while we sat in the dark, just the three of us, whispering and laughing and talking together (softly of course so we wouldn’t wake the others). It was wonderful. The girls’ eyes were shining up at me and there was so much love in the room I felt I could burst with happiness.

Then Athi was coughing ceaselessly so I gave her some Benadryl. She drank the syrup, made a face at its bitterness; then I kissed her and sent her to bed. Athi is in the fifth standard class, but a few nights ago, she asked if she could stay with me and the little ones in our room. Now she sleeps right beside my bed, or under it! Athi is fatherless and very poor. She is one of the government sponsored children. I don’t know much about her situation, but I do know that she has been saved by Jesus Christ. The love of the Lord just emanates from her. Her innocence and joy is so precious, like a spring flower. Each day Athi helps me in my class at the school. The children can be difficult to handle sometimes and Athi knows English better than most so she often translates for me. Little Athi is a blessing from heaven.

Many nights after putting the little ones to sleep I sit with the older girls on the verandah. I usually don’t get to spend much time with them because the younger ones require so much attention, but at nighttime the opportunity is there. The older girls as so wonderful and I love them dearly! Jothi, Manoranjani, Sheeba, Manjula, Kanaga, Kavitha, Arul Selvi, Susila, Duraichy, Murugeswari, Kaliswari, just to name a few. That night we had so much fun together and were laughing hysterically. Jothi was reading a fictitious story for English class about a man named Sambu who had no hair and a hooked nose. The girls found this outrageously funny and we all laughed about it. Sometimes a girl will talk to me in Tamil and I’ll answer back in English, we not understanding each other at all: this we also found to be very funny. Mary Amma often joins us on the verandah and takes part in our laughter. I feel like I am part of a very large family, with many many little sisters! Mary has become like a mother to me. Some nights we talk for hours under the light of the verandah. She is a comfort and a joy to me, a wonderful example to me of faithfulness and Christlikeness.

Jothi (pronounced Jo-dee) is in the tenth standard class and when I first met her, she would always smile and look away in shyness. Now she is becoming more comfortable with me; we sat beside each other for the first time, laughing and talking. She is so sweet. A beautiful girl, captured by Jesus, and a very hard working student. Her parents are Hindu but she refuses to worship at the temple. She gave me a snack to taste: little black grainy things that looked like peppercorns. They were very crunchy and had a slightly spicy taste. The girls laughed as I made a funny face while trying to eat them.

Susheela (13) and Duraichy (15) are sisters. Their mother poisoned herself and died and their father drank himself to death. My heart aches for them. Despite this tragedy, they are full of joy because of Jesus. Susheela has a wonderful sense of humour and a bubbly personality that just makes you want to be with her all day. Duraichy is a bit shyer, but equally wonderful, with a beautiful smile and soft, graceful ways. Duraichy communicated to me that when I leave she will be very sad, and this she explained by drawing tear lines from her eyes with her fingers.

Manoranjani is the only girl out of the tenth class students who is not saved. Mary told me that she has no interest in going to church or reading the bible. Yet there is much hope for her. The Lord will leave the ninety-nine and go after this one. Several days ago I was showing the girls a storybook I brought about Jesus. The pictures in the book are very beautiful, and they vividly captured Jesus’ death and resurrection. Manoranjani was one of the ones who sat quietly in the back, not saying anything, but I detected a tiny flame in her eyes, a curiosity, a longing to know what we know.

Praise God, He is shining His face upon us, bringing light and hope! On Sunday, the Lord gave me His words to share with the girls during Sunday class. I talked to them about holiness. Each day we as women spend a considerable amount of time getting ourselves ready: washing, fixing our hair, etc. But how much time do we spend with our Lord Jesus? This is the question I asked them. We need to be vigilant about inner purity. Our heart is the dwelling place of Jesus Christ. His Holy Spirit lives in us. If we are hiding sin in the rooms of our house, then essentially we are saying Jesus is not welcome in our house. God has a grand and glorious intent for us: He wants to transform us into the image of Jesus Christ. We begin as raw scraps of metal and come forth as gold. We become lilies amoung the thorns, as each day we are purified by His hand, cleansed and emptied of self, filled with His Spirit. There were tears in my eyes when I spoke to them, my heart welling up with a longing for them to be all that God intends for them, a longing for them to know Jesus and be utterly satisfied in His completeness.

My words are lost in the air right now. All I can write is that Jesus alone is beautiful. He is more beautiful than we can comprehend. Everywhere I go in this little Indian village, His hand is there. My favourite place to sit now is under the tamarind tree. I can see flowers, trees, and mountains far beyond … He sits with me under that tree and speaks to me. Can there be anything sweeter than hearing the voice of my Jesus?