"I can see their futures"

Arpita was stuck in the village, but she figured out how to get back home. When family members missed her promised return date, she cut off some of her hair to show her anger. Then Arpita stole away her mom's phone and called the home staff: "Didi, come get me, please hurry, I don't want to stay here." Arpita fought for herself. She says now, "I'll not go back to that place." She knows where she wants to be.

Moni tells her mom, "send my little sister. I'll take care of her." Even Tina, who'd come and gone through several hostels, reports that "at the other places I always cried on the phone to my mom. But I like it here!" She also urges her mom to spread the word to others from the district. Rather than wanting to go home, the girls want their friends to join this new community.




Their bedroom is decorated with an ever-growing gallery of crafts--sock puppets that show their uniqueness, crowns of jewels reminding them that they are valuable daughters of a great King. Last week, a team of college students joined us and blessed the home tremendously with creative activities and gifts. Yet I think the ladies were touched and surprised by the joy-filled children, who on the first day, initiated an all-out dance party in the living room. Then, reflecting on a cricket game in the park one day, someone from the team remarked, "I can see their futures!" A few months ago, these lives were set on a very different course. Now, as we watch them grow, we can imagine so much more.


This week I again find myself in the awesome company of visitors who've come to partner in the work, all with a creative skill and a heart for healing. Becca's childhood friend Steph, a music therapist, as well as Jyothi, a former dancer intern, join us for HOH ministry and a camp with the teenage girls of another PR site.
I'm having a blast leading a dance workshop with Jyothi at the HOH. We're teaching the girls a totally new concept for people of their background--that you can worship God with your body. In one session today, Jyothi performed an example of a dance that was more than a dance, but a prayer and a communion with the Father. Then, I put on a beautiful Hindi worship song and instructed the girls to close their eyes, focus on their "audience of One," and simply move however they wanted. It took my breath away and nearly brought me to tears watching every single one of them apply some dance steps they'd learned but also move their arms spontaneously and mouth the words to their Father--as if He was the only one in the room. Even the home staff fell into authentic worship, and for 5 minutes, each person was lost in her own little world, forgetting about the others...yet somehow we were all connected.

What did they see when they closed their eyes and danced freely?
I believe they are also beginning to see a hope and a future.
I believe they are beginning to see Him.

weak, fragile, and strong

Along the street, three guys parade around banging a rhythmic drum beat, wanting some tips for their entertainment. The sound of kids playfully screaming and chasing each other with water guns in the park has brought me out onto the balcony. The sidewalks--and the kids-- are tinted with random splatters of red and purple dye. To my right on the adjacent balcony, a mother, father and son carefully position themselves to throw water balloons at their neighbors below. Suddenly our doorbell rings, and I quietly tip toe to the peep hole while Rebecca mouths, "Don't open it!" Since it's Asha and her little sister, the girls who press clothes in the neighborhood and whom I play frisbee with from time to time, I decide to greet them. "Happy Holi!" they shout. I see that Asha is hiding something behind her back. "No!" I jump behind the door, and they giggle. "Please, just a little!" they plead. So nervously I comply, and Asha smears a thumbprint's worth of yellow powder on my forehead. Happy Holi.

Holi, or "Festival of Colors," is a spring festival observed by Hindus, Buddhists, and Sikhs. It marks the change from winter to spring and is a celebration of fertility. In the weeks leading up to this day, I saw special stands in the markets selling noise makers and color throwers reminiscent of the 4th of July. Some of the more harmless traditions of this holiday include bonfires, and throwing water and colored powder at each other.

Rebecca and I opted to not leave the house. Even just a week ago, Rebecca and our friend Liz were attacked by water balloons while riding in an auto-rickshaw and came home soaked down to the underwear.

Sounds fun, right? Why wouldn't we get out there and go nuts? Well, first of all, the color doesn't wash out of clothes so easily :0) Secondly, some other aspects of the holiday were on our minds. We thought of the red light district, where probably double the customers poured in seeking entertainment.

It's been three days since Holi, and we still haven't left the house, because we both came down with some kind of virus. Aches and pains, upset stomach, yadda yadda. Things are looking up now, and we've made both work and leisure plans for tomorrow.

As per agreement when entering the Home of Hope, two of the girls--Tina and Arpita--were allowed to go home for Holi. We also took Moni to visit her mom, who gave her some sweets and a cute-to-die-for mini salwar set. We praise God that Tina is back with us, but we're still waiting for Arpita.

These days, our bodies feel weak; moreover, our hearts tremble at the fragility of the circumstances. Yet, we muster our faith to remember how strong our God is.

"I will bring them back to this place and let them live in safety. They will be my people, and I will be their God. I will give them singleness of heart and action, so that they will always fear me for their own good and the good of their children after them. I will make an everlasting covenant with them: I will never stop doing good to them,and I will inspire them to fear me, so that they will never turn away from me. I will rejoice in doing them good and will assuredly plant them in this land with all my heart and soul. " -Jeremiah 32