Snake!

Last Saturday night we had prayer meeting, like every week. After wrapping things up around 10:30pm, we came upstairs into the house. Everything was pretty quiet until I heard Pastor Daniel begin yelling something in Telugu from down below. Sallie started running down the stairs. Mom looked over the railing at Pastor Daniel and ran towards me saying, “Snake! Snake!” It figures that the family member with the least English would be the one to tell me what's going on. I ran down the stairs ahead of Mom and rounded the corner to find Pastor Daniel pinning the back half of a king cobra to the wall while the front half was unseen in a drain pipe. Pinning the snake, Pastor Daniel was unable to beat it. Tabitha's husband had just showed up when I got there. I glanced around looking for a beating stick but couldn't find one. Mom showed up behind me with a solid 4 by 4 block of wood. Someone hit the body of the snake. As soon as its head came out of the pipe...BAM! Mom jacked it up. I think she stunned it and Pastor Daniel used the stick to pull it out. Mom gave it a couple more good crushing blows to the head just to make sure. It was sick! Moral of the story: when someone yells “Snake,” you bring your own beating stick. God protected us and no one was injured....except the cobra. Now that I think about it, the curry did taste a little different the next day...haha, jk.

I was given the opportunity to preach twice on Sunday, once at home church, and once at a village church. This was good and I pray that it was an encouragement to the people here. We also got to take communion at the village church. It's so amazing to see the Church. I never would have imagined that someday I would be in this little village in India joining believers there in communion. It's pretty incredible. After the service, one of the ladies in the church had prepared food for us so we got to eat there. I think it was chicken. It's one of those things where you're like, “huh, never seen that before. I don't know what part of the chicken that is, but I'll eat it anyway.” It was good though. I saw the same trend in this church as far as demographics. There were maybe twenty people there (not counting kids). There were only two men aside from the pastor.

We had three days the past week with lots of rain. It was so cold I had to put on a light jacket. P.D. Got sick during these days and was then kind enough to share it with me. I thought it was kind of ironic that I got sick while I was preparing a sermon about the lie of the prosperity gospel.

The family here jokes about how it was “by mistake that I was born in America.” it came up the other night when Mom put a little more spice than usual in the curry. I noticed it had some good kick, but of course I'm used to just eating what is put before me. Sallie said it was too spicy for her. So they joke that I'm actually Indian. Since then, Sallie will sometimes just shake her head when I do something and mutter, “by mistake.” Haha, I guess that's encouraging.

I have lots of time for prayer and study. It's been great. Just when I start getting bored or feeling somewhat useless, God gives me opportunities to do something. It's incredible to be driving down some bumpy dirt road blocked by goats and buffaloes knowing that you are in who-knows-where and will have the opportunity meet believers and preach the gospel. However, just as special are the small things, the stuff that happens everyday. It's holding hands with one of the kids as they walk around pointing at everything in sight and saying the name of it in Telugu. It's not learning the Telugu that's important, but the time with the child. It's playing “Acha mena” (Indian patty-cake) over and over with the girl orphans. It's the piggy-back rides and decorating the Christmas tree. It's playing tag and trying to cook tortillas. The most special times, though, have not come with any of these. It has been the times when I can get alone, by myself, in my room and kneel down against a chair and have no care in the world for how long I can be there. It is this time of praying that is more special to me than anything else. To have time to just press into God has been the greatest blessing.

I am convinced that what India needs most is not schools and hospitals, but Jesus. They need to know the real, living, life-changing Jesus. This is the only hope for it. I am not against schools and hospitals, but I know that it's quite possible to be rich, healthy, and educated and still go to Hell. Jesus says, “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and foreits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Matthew 16:26). I read a short blurb in the paper a while ago about a girl in ninth grade who committed suicide after doing poorly on her exams. She believed a lie that told her that if she doesn't do well in school, her life was worthless. The kids, more than anything, need to know Jesus, and know that He loves them no matter how they do in school. Their hope must rest in Jesus and nothing else.

The question seems to be getting asked more and more frequently, “Do you know about the future? Are you called to India?” The answer is “Naku teleadu” translated means, “I don't know.” I could probably write fifty pages if I were to describe all the different aspects of being a missionary here or not and everything that goes on in my head. However I look at it though, it has to be God's leading and His guidance. We'll see where He leads me. Right now I have two and a half months left and that gives God plenty of time.

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it. For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it.” Matthew 7:13-14.

Please Pray:
-Tabitha's husband-salvation
-Men to be saved
-Pastors meeting tomorrow (thursday)--for unity and encouragement
-Sudir (orphan)--doctors looking to see if they can fix his speech impediment.

Praise for:
-Protection
-Opportunities
-His consistent goodness and faithfulness