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?