Making Memories

Our week together has come and gone.
It flew by more quickly than I could even imagine possible.
There was laughter. There were tears.
There were long talks & quiet times, late nights & early mornings, times of reminiscing and, of course, making new memories.
It was wonderful. I am incredibly thankful for it; already dreaming ahead, as I smile, looking behind.

~Heather

A glimpse...

Eager Anticipation

I'm honestly not sure how to feel or what to think. I have known for months now that today would come. But, now that it has arrived, I still don't think my heart knows what it means.

Sarah is due to land in Delhi in about 4 hours. What will it feel like to see her today? What will my reaction be? What will I think? What will I do?

Amidst all the uncertainties that are floating around my mind, this I know for sure: The Lord is good. He created a friendship between Sarah and I in a way that only He could. His plans are perfect. As I look back I see His unfailing love and faithfulness through each and every journey. I can hardly wait to see what He has in store for the days ahead! I smile as I wonder of what our days will include. I plan to savor each moment. What an amazing Father we serve.

As I sit and wait, eagerly, with great anticipation, I am in awe of all that the Lord chooses to bless me with and count it pure joy to be His daughter, His princess.

~Heather

To India I Go!

This morning I sit less than 24 hours shy of stepping foot out of the country for the first time. I am not sure my mind has completely wrapped itself around the adventure that awaits!

I think its funny that I am going to India, right now, when the world, and Julia Roberts, are so interested in eating, praying and loving in and around this country. But, I am not jealous of the adventure portrayed there. I am not longing to go to some spiritual country to find myself. I have already been found. Actually, I have been adopted, bought with a priced, sealed in a covenant with Christ.

On the ground, in India, waits my best friend! That is why I am going. I am going to see a friend. Friendship is priceless. I spend a lot of days thanking the Lord for my singleness. Through singleness I have learned the value of a friend - both how to be one and what it is to have one. No ring on a finger to demand commitment, no DNA to require loyalty. Just grace and love - because He first showed us grace and love.

Thank the Father with me for friendship. For His ability to sustain it. For allowing the plans He has for each of us to intersect, to weave in and out, and come together again.

Pictures to come!!

Sarah

The Story of Katie Rose

Storying!

This summer I fell in love with storying! When I first got my project confirmation email, and caught the title of it- "Storytelling Gurus" -I was a bit taken aback and afraid. What had I gotten myself into?

Upon arrival in India, I became excited when I recived the storying materials. As I started learning stories, they came oh so naturally. I mean, one might expect that, because they are stories we grew up with, but I didn't expect to be so confindent. Usually I stumble over words and such, but once I learned these stories, all I wanted to do was share them!

To watch the women learn as we shared was amazing. As they listened, despite the millions of constant distractions (kids, animals, etc), their eyes would light up as they began to truly understand who Jesus is and what He has done for them. And then to see some of them deciding to share the stories with others, as well!

It is really rewarding when you are storying- you learn, you teach, God joins in, they learn, they share with others. God has truly blessed my life with this experience of storying.

In fact, that is how I open when I speak with a group. I tell the story of the Great Commission, and say, "That's what I did... and this is what happened!" Because God is truly using these stories- His stories- to draw for Hinself a people for His own possession! I was so glad to be part of it!

~Katie Rose (a summer M-town guest)

Prowling around like a lion...

"Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world."
1 Peter 5:8-9 ESV

The Father is at work in and around M-town!
Therefore, the enemy is on the hunt in and around M-town.

The Hindi is being learned. The stories are being shared. The light is being shone in the midst of great darkness.

~Heather

*Would you plead with the Father not to allow the enemy to be a discouragement, an obstacle?
*Would you ask Him to give His servants courage and boldness as we continue to seek to serve and share Him?

J-Nagar

My heart loves to teach. My heart loves a classroom setting. My teacher's heart is filled each time I get to visit J-Nagar.

As the afternoon comes, I'm tired. As I think about boarding the hot bus, I'm exhausted. As I walk to the gate, I'm dragging.

As I open the gate and move into the yard, 25 to 30 bouncing children rise to their feet to eagerly greet me. Somehow I'm not quite so tired. From somewhere comes a smile and an excitement, as I reach for my chalk.

These children, who live in a slum and some who have never been to a formal school, take out their tattered notebooks and broken pencils. Somehow, over the months and through my limited Hindi, they have learned to read and write English.

Their smiles beam as I praise them for a job well done. Their notebooks wave in the air, as I hear "M'am, Ji! M'am, Ji!," to receive my glance over their work and a word of approval. Their faces light up with understanding as they now sound out words to read a story from the chalkboard. "This is a true story from God's word," I say as I begin with the story portion of our lesson.

These amazing children are learning stories from God's word in their heart language, reading and writing them in simple English, and blessing my sandals off while they do so! How I praise the Father who ordains our days.

~Heather

*Would you ask the Father to show the children of J-Nagar His truth through His stories?
*Would you ask the Father to draw these children and their families to a saving faith in who He is?

K-Ville

About halfway between M-town and a smaller nearby town, sits a little village. K-ville is a place that only by the Lord's divine provision did we ever happen upon. Logistically, it makes no sense as to why it appeared on our radar. But, the Father is at work in K-ville.

The first visits to K-ville included a few of the M-town summer guests, who call themselves the M-Girlz. They fell in love with this little place. They met a brand new sister who was excited to learn more about being a true follower. The M-Girlz visited in her home 5 or 6 times, sharing stories, singing songs, praying for neighbors and friends.

The Father led me to accept the task of continuing visits to K-ville, to story, and to share His love and truth. Each week, I call our K-ville sister to let her know I am coming. Each week, she has not been home upon my arrival.

However, the women of K-ville greet me, and beckon me to sit with them, to share a story, to sing His praises, to pray with them, and to help them in seeking Him. These women have not yet chosen to call Him, Father, but I trust that day will come.

As I sit cross-legged on a rope woven cot pearched on a roof, I share God's story and see eyes and hearts engaged in soaking up His love and truth. Oh, how I long for the day that these women would choose to call Him, Father, and take His stories into the places that have yet to hear them.

~Heather

*Would you ask the Father to draw the K-ville women unto Himself?
*Would you ask the Father to allow my Hindi to continue to improve, to flow smoothly, to not be an obstacle in the understanding of His story?

My Heart's Song

May we run this race, may we keep the faith;
may our eyes be fixed on Jesus-
That we'll not lose heart in our struggle with sin,
and through suffering know endurance.

May we arm ourselves with the mind of Christ-
To rejoice in trials and be not surprised.
May our hearts be so consumed by You,
That we never cease to praise!

May our compnay be the saints you've called,
May we all stand firm in one spirit.
That the gospel's truth may resound on earth,
that all living things may hear it.

May the fruits of faith mark the path we trod,
through the life of Christ to the Glory of God,
May our hearts be so comsumed by you,
That we never cease to praise!

May the words we share be Your grace and peace;
May our tongues speak Your proclamation-
That the many parts of the body of Christ
be affirmed in their right relation.

As we long and wait for the groom to come,
May we learn to love, and spur each other on.
May our hearts be so consumed by You,
That we never cease to praise!

When that day arrives, and their race is won.
When our griefs give way to deliverance.
We will fully know as we're fully known,
All our groans will end as new songs begin.

And a multitude from every tribe and tongue,
Wearing robes of white, will stand before Your throne,
And our hearts will be so consumed by You,
That we'll never cease to praise!

~Heather (borrowed lyrics)

Praising Him

There are so many people. There is so much darkness. It is easy to believe there is no one who truly believes, no one who praises Him with all their hearts.

But, there are. They are here. They are singing His praises and seeking to share His name, to be a light in such a dark place.

Worshipping in a second language and culture has always been somewhat difficult for me. I struggle to keep my mind engaged. I struggle to understand all that is taking place. It is just one of my hard things.

Sunday, I worshipped with a group of fellowships. They meet together every couple of months, and meet in small groups for worship and fellowship weekly.



Let me tell you, these brothers and sisters have a great time praising our Father. I have begun to learn their songs of praise and follow along as the message is shared. This sweet fellowship has allowed me to be part of who they are and what they do. It is so much fun!

On a weekly basis, we are around 25 or 30, but this week, as we met as a group of fellowships, there were 300 or 350, maybe more. Weekly we meet on the front porch of a school, but this week, a building was provided. Let me promise, it was tight in there, with no room to spare (well, actually, there is always room for one more).


I love to sing out praises to our God. I love for my voice to get lost in a sea of voices singing out. Oh, how my cup is filled to overflowing as our amazing God gives so much more than we ask. How I praise Him for the blessings He bestows.

~Heather

It's Raining! It's Pouring!

~Heather

Pothole Lane

A glimpse of what Pothole Lane looks like today:

It is certainly holding up to its name! Just getting home is an adventure.

~Heather

Summer Blurs

The summer season has given way to monsoon season.

I don't really know where the summer went. It whizzed by in a blur.

I do love the rain that has now come. I do not love the humidity or ants that it brings, but I do love the dark clouds and the sounds of children laughing and playing as the rains fall.

This summer has been like no other. It has been absolutely incredible. It has been absolutely exhausting. The Father is so faithful. He is at work!

My summer included many guests. Some came for a couple of weeks, others for a couple of months.

They persevered. They served. They loved. They encouraged. They shared stories to those who had never heard. There is nothing more I could have asked.

They were truly a delight.

~Heather

villages

I love my time in the village.

I love telling stories. I love hearing stories.

I love a slow paced lifestyle. I love that no one knows what time it is.

I love that people are patient with my limited Hindi.

I love that they are eager to hear the stories of truth, stories they have not heard before.

I love that the Father is at work.

I love that the Father is drawing these people unto Himself.

I love that the Father is increasing His number daily.

Most villages have a tube pump that supplies water for the entire village.

The girls love to draw on my hands with henna,

creating designs that serve as a temporary tatoo which lasts for a week, or so.

There is never any telling who will join you on village visits.
( I laugh as I write this. There are pigs 50 yards from my front door now. Sometimes I think I live in the jungle, or on the farm, or at least in a zoo!)

~Heather

transportation

There was quite an array of modes of transportation as we trekked out to villages each day this summer.

We rode bus, lots and lots of buses, with lots and lots of people.
We rode bicycle rickshaws.
We rode people movers, which are golf cart type structures in which 10 - 12 people pile in.
We rode ox carts and buffalo carts.
We rode on tractors.
We rode on anything that was moving in the right direction and allowed us to hop on.
And, the Indian philosophy: There is always room for 1 more passenger, always!

We rode on horse carts

(which was the roughest ride I have ever had,

but that may have had more to do with the condition of the road...).

We rode on cable cars.
We rode on these trucks, standing in the bed of the truck with 50 (or so) other passengers.

But, mostly we walked, and walked, and walked, and walked.

~Heather

A day at the Ganga

The worship of a river is something I will never be able to wrap my mind around. There were more at the Ganga on this day than I had ever seen before. The fire and flowers are a form of worship. Baths are taken in the river with the belief that the water will cleanse people from their sins. May these devoted worshippers come to know and worship the Creator.

~Heather

Sending them out 2 by 2

~Heather

Village Wedding

~Heather

Moses' Mother

"The woman conceived and bore a son, and when she saw he was a fine child, she hid him for three months. When she could hide him no longer, she took for him a basket made of bulrushes and daubed it with bitumen and pitch. She put the child in it and placed it among the reeds in the river." Exodus 2:2-3, ESV

To hold something tightly, clinging to it, protecting it, is a natural reaction. We all can name items, people or memories that we have held onto with a death grip. Laying those things down, offering them over, as sacrifice, to the Lord, is a completely different action.

Luke, recording Stephen's speech, in the book of Acts, notes that when Moses was born he was "beautiful in God's sight." (Acts 7:20) He was a precious child, indeed. He would go on to lead Israel out of slavery. He would be a conduit, through which, God preformed miracles, signs and wonders. Moses' mother saw that he was fine. She saw more than the beauty a mother finds in the face of her every child. She saw more than her eyes, his father's hair, ten finger, ten toes.

For three months, this precious woman, quietened her beautiful baby boy. Kept him closely to her, out of sight, rocked and loved him in secret in order to protect his life. The writer of Hebrews notes that Moses' parents hid him "in faith."

What happens next is remarkably fascinating. With resolve, Moses' mother begins to make a basket. A task she has surely done before. She begins to weave and paste, weave and paste, a basket for precious cargo, for sacrifice, for faith. This time she would not carry bread to a neighbor. She would not return with a basket full of produce from the market. She would not carry flowers from the field to grace her home. She would place her son in this basket. This son, beautiful in the sight of God, was no longer small enough, quite enough, to keep concealed. Still, the child was fine. Still, Moses was to be used by the Lord.

Did she cry? As she placed this beautiful boy in her handmade basket, did she shed tears of sorrow? Did she quietly kiss his cheeks and sing to him the song she had sung all her children? Did she give him one last squeeze and smell his hair?

She placed Moses in the basket, the basket in the river, and her hope in knowing what Moses found would be better than the death that awaits him, in her home, should he be found out.

If you continue to read, you will find that Moses' was found. He was spared. And, his mother? She was paid to nurse and raise him. In giving up her son, she received him back with blessing.

I do not have children. I am not a mother. I am content in my station in life. I love that the Lord has led me into families to love and care for their little ones. My heart is overjoyed when I get to love on, teach, discipline and watch these precious people learn and grow. But, from time to time I feel the desire to one day have children of my own.

I do not ponder this desire long before I am reminded of Moses' mother. I think about her resolve, her understanding; and, mostly about her faith. To construct a basket, knowing is was a boat, and walk to the river, holding a child. To then kneel down, prepare the basket, love her son one last time, and lay him down. To walk to the river's edge, wade in just a bit, so as to make sure she can gently place the basket in the water.....and release her son to the sovereignty of God. This is motherhood. To know the child your bore is not yours, but the Father's. To know that you have been called to present this child, this gift, back to Him, for His purpose. To recognize the beauty of the child lies in what God has fashioned for their future. To hold a child so closely, so protectively, and let him go at the same time.

I do not merely want to have children..... I want to be Moses' mother.

Happy Mother's Day.

~Sarah

Help Tennessee

It seems the time has come to help because its the right thing to do. The opportunity has risen to help because you know that should you find yourself floating in a boat, outside your home, you would want someone to empathize. The time has come to realize that devastation knows no tax bracket, industry, neighborhood or people group. Now is the time to help without the prompt of media, movie star or philanthropic trend. In the past few days, cars have been submerged in Wal-Mart parking lots, a portable school building has floated down the interstate as though it were a houseboat on the Cumberland, and people have lost immeasurably. In the past few days, Middle Tennessee has needed our help; but, we have gone largely unaware.

Please take the time to do what you can.

www.middletennredcross.org

www.hon.org

www.secondharvestmidtn.org

www.cfmt.org

surrender

Lord, today I present myself to you as a living sacrifice. I long to be a vessel of honor, sanctified for your use, so today I surrender to your transforming, immeasurable, undeserved love, grace, and forgiveness. I commit myself to live in obedience to your will.

~Heather

Guinevere

(I have to give props to a college classmate of mine for the template of this post. Melissa is journaling through life and country lyrics for a year. Recalling memories, brokenness and recurring question, she highlights the existential underpinnings of a country song. Check her blog out!)


I love music - songwriting to be exact. In life, there exists themes,events,thoughts,feelings,hunches, understanding, truths beyond the bounds of grammar and proper punctuation. Its a shame we do not appreciate the artistic brethren among us. People in the arts, at times, communicate elements in life that seem to evade our limited language. It's not solely in the words said, or the melody composed, the stage set or dance moved...its the whole lot of it put together at once, in cadence, syncopated, metered, segmented only to rise, fall and come together leaving you hanging on a note, a word, an idea. It's the expression that captures what we all want to say - what we know, but are at a loss to expound upon. It's as if those in the arts understand certain things better that the rest of us - like they can see in ways others cannot.

A few days ago, my local country music station played the newest Eli Young Band single.

She's got a bumper like a billboard
Covered in stickers of her favorite bands
She's got a handful of records that she turns to
When she needs to land
She's a saturday night parade through the streets
That all eyes come to see including me

She carries memories around like souvenirs down in her pockets
She should have let some go by now but can't seem to drop it
Says forgiveness ain't nothing but a lifeless tire on the shoulder of her soul
That never rolls

For as much as she stumbled she's runnin'

For as much as she runs she's still here

Always hopin' to find something quicker than heaven

To make the damage of her days disappear

Just like Guinevere

She don't hold on to nothin' new for very long
She writes you in as just one more tale and then you're gone
Cause she once fell hard cause she dropped her guard
And no one gets to stay
It's just too late

For as much as she stumbled she's runnin'
For as much as she runs she still here
Always hoping to find something quicker than heaven
To make the damage of her days disappear
Just like Guinevere

Listening to this song, I was reminded of why I desire to counsel. There exists all around us beautiful people carrying around

eclectic hurts in blue jean pockets. Men and women holding onto to life's experience for meaning, trusting the feeling of song

and living under the power of their brokenness.

People. Its about people. People who are loved or not. People who parade through life, elusive as the summer day is hot. People

whose mess is hard to avoid or whose pride sops it up as best it can. People who run long and hard and wake up to find they are

in the very spot they have tried for years to leave. People looking for a quick fix, an infomercial for happiness, a drive thru menu

of solutions to life's problem. People, just like Guinevere, are a beautiful mess.

Yes, its about people. The real kind. The kind that are only beginning to realize their messiness. The kind that are eclipsed by their brokenness.

The kind that have a heart full of questions. The hurting. The unsure. The all of us kind.

All of us. Its about all of us and our broken, fallen, sinful state. It's about the Savior who came to walk through all earth has to offer.

It's about Him making it through this earthly life unstained. About Him taking our stain, our sin, upon Himself. About Him taking the

ramification of our mess upon himself. About Him making peace with God, bringing redemption, a chance at new life, through his sacrifice

for people everywhere, just like Guinevere.

I stand five classes and eight months shy of a Master's in Christian Counseling. As I ready myself for the last leg of this race, I listen to

this song over and over increasing reminded of the adventure the Lord has begun to take me on. It is my prayer that the Guineveres

placed in my path will write me in their tale long enough to see that Christ wants to stay.

~Sarah

every hour

I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord,

No tender voice like thine can peace afford.

I need Thee,

Oh, I need Thee,

Every hour I need Thee,

Oh, bless me now my Savior,

I come to Thee.

~Heather

SOPI is coming! (or, has come...)

SOPI is the language assessment that determines the level at which Hindi speaker is performing.

As I was hurrying on my way to catch the bus to teach in the village, I was stopped on the road by a polite young man on a bicycle. He asked, in his very best english, if I was the named person on the envelope. And, since Cathy & I are the only foreigners in the area and Heather is certainly not a Hindi name, he had a 50/50 chance. I quickly signed for and accepted the envelope, and headed on my way. I stuffed it into my bag and went on with my day.

Once I returned home from the day's adventures, I found the light yellow envelope I had stuffed into my bag only a few hours before. It still remains unopened on my table. I know what is inside. The SOPI arrived today. So, I will complete the SOPI on my Friday afternoon, that is American Friday, April 30th, morning.

Any and all prayers would be greatly appreciated.

I do know that I will indeed survive this time, however, I would very much like to do very well (as some of you may know, I am a little bit of an over-achiever sometimes). The Father has already taught me so much and shown me more of himself through this intensive language learning time. It is my deepest prayer that he will allow me to more fluently share who he is with those around me.

~Heather

A Different Kind of Classroom

Today was one of the days I look forward to. After language, I headed out to the village where I help to teach now and then. It is a long, hot bus ride, but once I have arrived, that doesn't seem to matter to me anymore.

I'm pretty sure that the children teach me more than I teach them, anyways!

I was warmly (and loudly) greeted by the children as I went searching for my glasses, and hankie to wipe my face. We all settled in and began our usual English lessons. These children have learned so much. I am so proud of them. They were sounding out sentences today, which is a long way from only knowing letter names of capital letters a few months ago. They were even telling me the meaning of the sentences in Hindi to show that they were not only reading, but comprehending! It was a good day.

After I had written a sentence on the chalkboard that was propped against an outside tree stump, I gave the children a few moments to write the sentence and look at the words before we read it together. My mind began to reflect on my previous teaching eperiences and how today was so different from any I have had before.

The children age from maybe 5 to 12 or 13 years old. They are dressed in clothes that have been discarded by others. They were only able to write the sentences I gave them because I also supplied the pencil. The chalk almost allowed me to write legibly on the chalkboard. There was at least one puppy that ran between my feet and the underside of an old couch that had been pulled up. One of the students, who is likely 6 or 7 years old, had to bring her 2 year old brother with her because he was her responsiblity today. He was not planning to sit quietly while we all had school, to say the least. The teacher's almost 3 year old sang songs from a few feet away from the make-shift classroom, and the teacher nursed her 5 month old baby girl. All this in the hour and a half that I taught English, Hindi and Math!

Is this the classroom I dreamed of as I studied at Auburn? It isn't even close. But it is the one the Father had planned for me today, and there isn't anywhere else I would have rather been. How he blesses us far beyond anything we could ask or imagine!

~Heather

*Thank the Father for such an amazing opportunity.
*Ask the Father to allow these children, and their families, to come to know and trust only him.

Staying with Auntie

I spent a little over a week staying with Auntie, who lives in a town a few hours north. It was a long, HOT, sweet, encouraging, fruitful, hard, mosquito-filled week. It was one of those weeks that I have had to allow my stubbornness and unwillingness to quit push me through. You know, one of those, what doesn't kill us will make us stronger, kind of weeks.

I met Auntie on Saturday morning as we prepared to travel to her home. She was a gentle spoken, small statured, Indian woman. As we arrived home to Auntie's, I began to see the fiesty lady that dwelled within that little body.

Auntie decided years ago that she didn't want to get married. She didn't want to have children. She wanted to do what she wanted to do, when she wanted to do it, and still does. Many of Auntie's familiy members have become believers, but she very clearly explained to me, "that isn't for her."

I so enjoyed the opportunity to build a relationship with Auntie, now, the week was long and hard, but Auntie allowed me to become family. She allowed me to share who I am, the story of how the Father changed my life, as well as stories from his word. She allowed me to go to fellowship on Sunday, and she even took me to join the rest of her family for Sunday lunch, which was preceeded by a word from God's word.

Auntie had an opion about most everything and enjoyed the opportunity to share it with me. My curly hair needed brushing, my clothes needed ironing and didn't fit properly, my shower was taken at the wrong time of day, I should wear shoes when I walk on the roof, I should eat breakfast every morning, oh, the list goes on.

Auntie has a sister who lives close-by, so she came in and out on a regular basis. They very often wanted to discuss my marital status. (Now this is where my favorite opinion of Auntie's is shared.) Let me remind you that Auntie has decided that she will never marry and her sister comes in complaining about her husband.

As they asked when I would get married, I gave my usual reply, "My life is in God's hand. I want to have a husband and children, but it will be in his way and time." To this, the sister responded, "Marriage is very important." Auntie asked if I had a friend in America. I told her I didn't have a male friend right now that I was planning to marry, to which she immediately responded, "Are you looking? 'Cause if you are, you only have one eye open!"

I had to laugh. Oh, the irony of the marital advice I have received from a chosen to be single, Hindu, Indian woman.

Auntie has already called several times to check in on me and has made me promise to come by each time I head north. I will always be thankful for her allowing me to be part of who she is, thankful for her patience with my not so beautiful Hindi, and prayerful that she will one day call herself a believer.

~Heather

A Year in Review

Today marks a year, how can it be?

Sometimes it feels like it surely has been three.

As I look back, I am amazed at all the Father has brought me through.

As I look forward, I choose to be in wonder of all He plans to do.

My God is faithful, always by my side,

so, tonight, I rest in Him and desire, above all else, to simply abide.

~Heather

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God, my Father;

There is no shadow of turning with Thee;

Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;

As Thou hast been, Thou forever will be.

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,

Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,

Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

The monster we call Sopi

Today, as I ponder the woman that I am, I am amused.

I was just thinking, "I love being the teacher, so why don't I love being the student?" Then, I realized, I love to teach children who need to be taught in a different, unique way.

In the same way, I like to learn through hearing and experiencing, through ways that are somewhat unique.

Studying Hindi has been fun. It is so encouraging to finally understand what Auntie is asking. My heart glows when a friend comments on how much my Hindi has improved. I have loved learning Hindi from my friends and neighbors, and even from Bollywood films.

However, I have reached the language learning stage in which a classroom with a teacher and textbook is necessary.

Sopi evaluates my language. She lets me know the level at which I am speaking. She has said that eventhough I can talk with Auntie now and can handle business transactions, my Hindi isn't, well, sophisticated or eloquent.

So, I am off to Hindi school. I started class this morning. The teacher gave me homework, and, it wasn't to watch a Bollywood film!

But, to conquer Sopi, I will do my homework and my best to study, and learn, beautiful Hindi.

Sopi, watch out! Here I come!

~Heather

*Thank the Father for this opportunity for me to increase in my Hindi abilities.
*Thank Him for the provisions to be in a good Hindi learning environment.
*Ask the Father to give me the ability to absorb and process so much Hindi in such a short time.
*Ask that the Father allow my Hindi to reach the place that I can clearly share His stories and truth without "Hindi hiccups," for this is really what matters.

We've a story to tell to the nations!

Saturday was cookie day. The cookie icing had dried, the cookies were packaged, and I was off to spread the story.

Now I had a picture of the cookie package in my mind and knew who I wanted to share cookies and stories with, but I didn't know exactly how it was all going to work out.

I had the privilege of sharing cookies (and tea, and tea, and tea...) with my sweet neighbors, and some of the people I interact with daily. They were so pleased, and received the "Easter Biscuits" with a smile. Each sat and listened as I shared the Resurrection story in my very best Hindi (which still needs a little work).

Everyone listened, some just smiled, others had questions. There were those who had heard this story before, and those who had never heard it.
May they each choose to allow it to change them, from the inside out.

How blessed are we who get to be part of His story!

~Heather

*Praise the Father for allowing me the opportunity to share His story!
*Ask the Father to continue to bless my Hindi efforts and allow me to further share His stories in a way that would be best understood, believed, and accepted.
*Ask the Father to allow His story to remain on the hearts and minds of those who heard it this week. Ask that they would seek after Him.

Even when it seems it may be impossible...

Some say I am independent; some say I'm stubborn.

My mother would tell you that I am just like my father.

However, there's something my Daddy often reminds me of, "When your Mama gets something on her mind, there is no stopping her. You know that."

So, this week, I may be most like my mother.

Easter is my very favorite. It is hands down, the best holiday.

Easter means a Sunrise Service at the Teel's house, dying eggs with Ellie & Mason, taking a long drive with Sarah, singing Miss PattyCake songs with preschoolers, stuffing little plastic eggs, a fantastic day of corporate worship, but above all else, it is celebrating the Resurrection!

This year, as I have been preparing for Easter, I have known it was going to look a little different, but I have wanted it to be special.

I decided I wanted to have colorfully decorated, cut-out Easter cookies to present to my neighbors & friends as I share with them the story of the Resurrection. I had a picture in my mind of what this should look like (that's where Mama and I get into trouble)!

I only ran into a few snags along the way...

my neighbors & friends won't eat eggs or anything baked with eggs, the eggless recipe calls for cream cheese, I have only a glass baking dish, I don't have any idea how to find or make food coloring, I have never made cookie icing, and I have been down with Bronchitis all week.

But, when I get something on my mind, it will happen, or I will do my very best at making a valiant effort at it and may, in fact, die trying.

So, I have learned...

If you talk to the right experienced overseas cook, she might have an eggless cut-out cookie recipe.

If you drain plain yougart overnight through a loosely woven cloth, you might get cream cheese.

If you can explain what a cookie sheet is and what it is made out of and used for, as well as what size your oven is, in the local language to the worker at the kitchen store, he might round up something that resembles a cookie sheet.

If you talk to enough locals and the right store owners, you might find that someone does have coloring (other than hair coloring) for sale.

If you scour the internet, you might find a recipe for cookie icing for which you have all of the ingredients.

If all of these somewhat possible situations fall into place, you might end the day with colorfully decorated, cut-out Easter cookies!

So, indeed, the day has ended well. I have a kitchen counter lined with colorful, cut-out Easter cookies. I have worked on a simplified version of the Resurrection story in Hindi. I am planning to visit with neighbors and friends on Saturday in hopes to share a cup of tea, an Easter biscuit (cookie), and an amazing story.

~Heather

*Join me in pleading with the Father to soften the hearts of the people of M-town.

*Ask that He would allow my Hindi to be understood.

*Ask that He would guide me to the divine appointments that He has made.

*Ask that He would use these days to change lives for eternity.

Everyday Occurrences

As I rode atop the rickshaw to language class, a crowd was gathering beside the road. I watched and wondered what they were doing.

I searched the scene; they were gathering around a large tree. They were tying red string, offering flowers, placing candles, sweets, and idols around the tree.

Later I learned that worship of this tree had begun only hours before. The tree had caught on fire sometime in the early morning hours.

It had been suggested that this tree was holy, because it had caught on fire. Therefore, the tree had become an object of worship.

Some worship in amazement, some worship in fear. May those who worship created things come to know the Creator of all things.

~Heather

Some days

As I sat in the hospital neurological clinic waiting room, I was greeted by the smiles and gazes of beautiful children. These children were so much like other children I have loved and served.

They live with a variety of abilities. These children don't walk, they don't use words to speak. These children and families learn to live and function with very special needs.

As I watched parents and others interact with these children, I gazed in wonder, and somewhat of a sense of longing.

A smile swept across my face as one would giggle with glee as a song was sung or a game was played.

Some days I miss serving special needs families in their homes. Some days I miss the classroom. Some days I miss the joy of seeing a child master a new skill.

The work the Father has before me looks so different now than it did in years past. Some days I wonder if I am up to this challenge. Some days I wonder what the days ahead will include.

Today I am choosing to be thankful for today and the task that is before me, but I will always look back in amazement and look forward with wonder.

I am planning to soon visit a center that provides services for children and families with special needs.

Please join me in asking the Father for His guidance in how He may choose to involve me in the special needs community of M-town.

~Heather

A birthday to remember

Children's birthday parties bring to mind hamburgers & hotdogs, clowns & balloons, laughing & playing.
An Indian First Birthday Party (especially for a little boy) is unlike any 1st birthday party you may picture.
Ridit's first birthday party was certainly an unforgettable night.

The party had dancers, DJ's, a host & hostess, animals dressed in costumes, fried snacks, cake, sweets, a full sit down dinner, a train for children to ride, take home boxes of Indian sweets, and professional photographers & videographers.

Even the invitation was quite extravagant!

~Heather

Color Day

I think we are offically part of the community now. The ladies came to get us this morning to come out and play "Holi." And, when things started to slow down and we were evidently cold, Auntie told us it was time to go in to take a warm shower and put clean clothes on.

We are truly blessed.

~Heather

Sights and Sounds of Holi

Lighting the fire and burning the wheat

(to earn the blessings of a good harvest)

~Heather

Holi

~Heather

Spring has Sprung

Last week took with it the cool weather. I wonder how many days will come and go before I will have to turn on the ceiling fans and air conditioning. The cooler weather certainly had its perks! On the other hand, my laundry dries in a couple of hours, rather than a few days.

The weather is merely one aspect of the changes that are currently taking place.

With the Spring weather comes the Hindu holiday Holi. Holi is a celebration to welcome spring and win the blessings of the gods for good harvest. Many very large fires will be lit and worshipped around tonight. Tomorrow everyone will "play Holi," by throwing water and colors on one another.

Please join me in pleading with the Father to protect the people of M-town from accidents caused by the fires and play.

Ask the Father to allow those we love to become dissatisfied with worshipping created things, that they would come to bow and worship the Creator of all things.

Ask the Father to give me opportunities to share his Truth in these days.

Ask that with Spring, the Father would bring the people of M-town to a heart knowledge and acceptance of Him.

~Heather

Celebrate!

Tuesday was Cathy's birthday. We took the opportunity to have a bit of a neighborhood celebration. It was a wonderful time of celebrating Cathy and fellowshipping with our neighbors and friends.

* Join me in thanking the Father for placing us in such a warm, loving, and accepting community.

* Ask the Father to draw the M-town families to Himself.

~Heather

Have you grieved your sins?

I have heard it said that until one grives their sin, in light of the Cross, salvation is never really understood. Have your sins grieved you?

I used to take offense to this idea. Do you?

Recently, while running errands, waiting at a stop light, I was prompted to give a homeless man money. I do not normally do that. I am well aware of the likelihood that my money has gone to purchase the gamut of harmful substances or behaviors. However, that day, I felt the stern prompting of the Holy Spirit to give the few dollars I had in my wallet. His name was Joe. And, as Joe turned away, after thanking me, he looked back, made steady, clear eye contact and said, "My name is Joe, would you pray for me please." Probably just a good homeless person tactic, right?

As I drove away, I began to ponder the concept of prejudice. I thought a lot about how it is used as explanation. I wondered how prejudice is conceived in the heart. I thought about the different angles of prejudice - the scoffing at the poor, the contempt for the rich. The black man who cannot find a job because he is "probably lazy or sells drugs." The white girl who does not need help or does not deserve to be sacrificed for because "Daddy will probably take care of it." Why do we insist on trading tit for tat?

I continued to ponder about prejudice and pray for Joe. Then came the young man on McCart. Disbelief met aggravation as I and other cars had to stop as someone began to cross the road at a less than safe time. Aggravation was met with conviction when this young man came clear into view. His gait, mannerisms, and draw hands and arms revealed that he was not only struggling with a physical handicap, but a mental one as well. I watched as he crossed in front of me, saddened that he could not make such a basic decision as when to cross the road safely. What would prejudice decide about this young man?

My mind settled on the accusation some would make, of the possibility that this boy's wrongdoing has led to his physical and mental state. Judging by his garb and skin tone, maybe drugs had rendered him handicap. After all, sagging jeans and a dark skin tone most often mean drug use, right? Its likely that this young man could have snorted enough crack or drank enough alcohol to induce mental damage, or cause a physical accident, resulting in handicap, right? Joe is probably homeless because all his money goes to buy booze, don't you think? Maybe Joe is so irresponsible that his choices put him in his homeless situation, right?

And there it was, clear and convicting, "But for the grace of God am I." But for the grace of God have my sins not rendered me paralyzed, handicapped, homeless, outcast, poor, societies burden, less than desirable! Then, I began to grieve. How could I qualify my sins as not that bad? How can I take the grace that God has shown me and use it as a crutch to not realize the offense I hurl at a perfect, loving, Holy God? How could I stand, covered in Christ righteousness, given to me, not earned by me, through His horrific death by crucifixion, and be so proud as to think that my sins would not bereave God because they are not classified as socially unacceptable?

I was broken. Broken of a proud heart. Broken of an assuming arrogance. I have begun to grieve my sins. I have begun to love my Savior all the more. Please, please won't you join me?

"For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death." - 2 Corinthians 7:10

~Sarah

Tea for tea?

I remember the first time I heard someone say that they were offering T4T. I had heard that it came from China. Well, I knew they drink tea in China, so I thought it must have something to do with having tea. I was quite mistaken. But, certainly never did I imagine that it would be something that the Father would allow me to see in action.

T4T is Training for Trainers. It is a method of training believers to then go out and train others, who in turn, train others. It is a vision of multiplicity. It is something that I have dreamed of seeing take place, but I don't think I ever imagined that I would.

Storying is my heart. It is what I love to do most. I love to share His story with preschoolers and senior adults, alike, whether in North America or half way around the world. I am most comfortable with my shoes off, sitting on the floor, sharing a story from God's word.

ST4T combines this dream of multiplicity with my passion for storying.

Through a series of circumstances, I was given the opportunity to join 5 amazing ladies and their incredible professor, from the states, in the big city to lead an ST4T conference for national women. I was humbled by the opportunity that was placed before me. I was intimidated by all that I don't know and all the Hindi I don't yet understand. I was almost convinced that this was impossible. I was sure that these friends who had come from so far away would be terribly disappointed in my inabilities.

Suddenly, the Father spoke. As if audibly, I heard, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Cor 12:9) A relief came upon me. It wasn't possible for me to do this. It was only by surrendering my weakness to Him that this dream could come true. Only through Him could this dream become a reality.

"Great is Thy faithfulness," resounded in my heart throughout the week of the conference. Flexibility was the word of the week; fluidity was required. The plan changed more often than I could keep up with.

These friends had come with the intention of leading a 5 day conference for a large group of national women. On Sunday evening, I heard the pastor announce that a 3 day training would be offered and only 10 national ladies had been invited. Immediately my mind began to spin. What was I going to tell these ladies who had come so far? All I knew to do was to calmly assure them that we would keep busy and there would be purpose in every day.

We began the conference on Monday with 11 national ladies present. Typically, we expect that number to decrease each day. Women have responsibilities that very often are required to take priority over events for them. Monday night we prayed that those 11 ladies would return, and Tuesday morning there were 14 ladies. Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, we prayed that again they would return. Wednesday there were 16 national women hungry to learn more of His story and how to share it effectively.

As Wednesday approached (the final scheduled day of the conference), I became anxious about what I would plan for Thursday. Wednesday came to a close and the women attending the conference were disappointed that they had been given such a limited time to be out sharing the stories in the community. I proposed that we meet back on Thursday, with the only plan being to share stories in the community for a few hours. To my complete amazement, the always late (hours late) South Asian women, were, in fact, 10 minutes early and ready to run to tell His story to their neighbors and friends!

Thursday's program was coming to a close. Again, I didn't have a plan for the coming day (which is quite unusual for the planner that I am). The pastor approached us and asked us to come to another church to train the ladies there with the ST4T stories and principles. I was elated with this opportunity, and with the fact that now we had a Friday plan.

I hoped a couple of the ladies who had been with us since Monday would be there, but I wasn't sure who would join us.

As we reached the roof of a building, we were in the open air. There was construction taking place immediately on either side of the building. The tin roof over our heads was home to a large, and noisy, flock of birds. We had arrived at the church where the one-day training would take place. It was loud. Dirt was blowing in on the breeze. I knew the day would be different from all of the others.

Indeed, it was different. Three of the national ladies who we had trained decided to join us for this one-day training. I spoke to them. I explained that we could really use their help. I shared with them that they had learned everything and that they could in turn teach the stories and method to these new ladies.

The ladies spoke right up; they jumped right in. They were training! They had been trained, and were now training. It was ST4T right there before my eyes.

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.

~Heather