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Some Final Thoughts and Lessons
Posted by Ronnie Worsham
If you have read some or most of my previous entries, you have come to know about my thoughts and experiences in India as well as some of the insights I've gained. I know these journal entries are long, but I'm verbose to say the least. That's just the way I think and if you're going to look inside of me, that's what you'll see. I hope that those musings have allowed you to travel with me in the Spirit and to see, at least in your heart and mind's eye, what Casey and I heard, saw and experienced. I do remember when Brandon, Brad and Joe returned from India last year and when Jon Schubert returned from Africa listening and trying to get a feel for what they had experienced. The reality is I was able to do that to some degree. Their experiences and the things they wrote and recounted orally enriched my own experience. However, we all know that there's nothing like “being there.”
This trip was not for pleasure. No offense to my Indian friends (I'm talking from India here; the original Indians call American Indians “Red Indians.”), but this is not a trip I would have taken for pleasure. My visits to places where there are many needy, either materially or spiritually, make it hard for me to relax at all. Rather, I feel the need to work and serve. And, even if I don't reach out, I feel some measure of discomfort at enjoying myself when others so near have so much less. No, I had no illusions about this trip being for pleasure. I found no enjoyment whatsoever in seeing poor, devastated people everywhere we visited. Casey and I were pained, to say the least, at visiting the slums of Delhi. There was no pleasure in seeing paganism paraded around. We were treated to Hindu music from the local Hindu temple every morning at 6 am while in Chennai.
So, I believe I've more than adequately and with far too many words shared some of the most significant insights I gained. However, I wanted to complete my writings about this missionary journey with some personal lessons I'm pondering at 32,000 feet over the Atlantic on our trip back to our glorious home! Here they are:
I am very American. I like our food. I'm adapted to our culture. I like our streets and neighborhoods. I like the way we value people and try to adhere to the principle of “all men are created equal.” I like our cleanliness. I like our orderliness. I like our space. I like that we are still the greatest nation on the earth because we help more peoples in their struggles and crises, take in so many people who have been cast out or otherwise marginalized. We dare to get involved even when it angers others. And, that we are still the epicenter of the Christian faith.
I am not as strong or tough as I thought I might be. I grew up in the country on first a dirt road and then an oil-with-a-bit-of-gravel-thrown-in-for-looks road. We didn't have air conditioning but only a swamp cooler that only actually cooled when it was dry, which was basically never. We had few amenities. I remember helping my mom wash with her old ringer washer and hanging out clothes on the clothes line. Yes, we had lots of mosquitoes along with every other kind of insect under the sun. We slept with our windows open in the summer and put plastic over the outside of them in the winter to stave off the cold winds. But, not any more. Nada. Major u-turn in my life here. Now, live in an air conditioned house decorated and maintained by one classy, beautiful, tasteful lady. And, we afford ourselves the luxury of keeping it colder than is probably prudent. Rarely does a mosquito crack our air space and if she (of course, it's a she!) she'll be toast fairly soon. I have all the amenities I feel I can justify to God and my church family. India shocked me. Their wealthy do without air conditioning most of the hot humid days. Only a few seem to have air conditioning at all. The power went on and off constantly in Delhi. Mosquitoes are everywhere. The stench from open sewage permeates the air in lots of places to the point I could hardly breathe. I was miserable at times under conditions that once defined me. Casey and I both got sick and were visiting those quite odoriferous slums while already somewhat nauseated. We were bounced and banged on terrible alley-like, backroadsish paths. We rode for a period in an un-airconditioned van with the only breeze coming in being air scarcely qualifying as “fresh” or cool. No, I was pretty miserable a lot. I yearned for my home.
There are places God would have to compel me to go to. I told Casey that I'd likely never leave the United States again. I feel that way just now. Of course, I'll go outside again if I am convinced the Lord wants that. But, I don't think I'll choose it. We've got wonderful beaches, wonderful mountains, wonderful history, beautiful cities and beautiful countrysides, all great vacation destinations. And, there is still plenty of poverty and squalor and lost people here for an old minister like me to focus on. I think my possibly-fighting-in-foreign-lands days are over. Really, it's not about thinking that we're all better than everybody else, or focusing on what's wrong elsewhere, but just the reality that at my age and stage in life, my going days feel numbered. I'm not tough enough or eager enough or flexible enough. I'll help the younger and heartier go off to war, and I'll stay home and train and fund and encourage.
The surreal elsewhere is real there. We Americans are quite educated. We went to school, many to college, and some post-grad. We watch Discovery Channel and History Channel (yes, you should be watching it some) and watch too many movies depicting life elsewhere. We have articles and videos and news programs about the world outside of our own. We all know it's there, for goodness sakes. It is surreal to us though. How can people live in such slums? How can that many people live in that little space? How can you eat that and drink that and do that and believe that and hear that and say that and whatever else might blow our minds? How can you survive in that traffic?! Yes, it's surreal to us here. But it is really there.
I feel more scarred than changed by this missionary journey. I'd like to be able to be so noble and say I have been positively changed. I'm sure I have and I pray the Spirit will show me that in the coming days. But, just now I only feel wounded and scarred. Really. On the first day I was mostly just in shock. By the second day, I was already feeling ill. Literally. By the third day the nausea hit and never left. Every smell in India ignited the nausea. Combine the sights and the visuals we were looking at with the smells and and the heat and the humidity and...well, you probably get the picture. Now, understand that we went to two cities and some of their outlying areas. All of what we actually toured were the poor areas Sugumar's ministry is trying to touch as well as the slums of Delhi where Hope International ministers. But, nonetheless, what I saw and heard and, yes, smelled has left me more scarred. I feel hurt and wounded in my heart. I was spiritually attacked there, no doubt. In my most miserable moments Tuesday night in our room I kept having to pray to keep these demonic visions that were coming into my mind at bay. I counted the minutes in Delhi until we could get on the plane and come home. I, and Casey as well, were too ill to actually take the one day we'd planned to actually sight-see for pleasure, choosing rather than a visit to the Taj Mahal the quiet, cool, safe, near-the-restroom comforts of our host's guest room. We went to the airport five hours early mainly just to feel like we were making progress toward home.
The little things are very important to me. Whether generally it's a fault or weakness, I don't know, but the little things are indeed very important to me. I crave sanity. A little sensibility please. A little order please. A little cleanliness please. A little consideration please. A little thoughtfulness please. So often, the difference between bad and good is simply having a trash can, someone to empty it, a safe dumping ground for it, and someone to regularly haul it off. Sometimes the difference between bad and okay is just taking the time to put a top on the sewer ditch. Throw your trash in the garbage or you'll start living in garbage. Don't drain your sewage into your drinking water or what ought to be cleansing becomes infecting. Think just a little. Fight for some sanity. Now, this isn't really that much about my visit to India, but about the reality my visit brought to me. Sometimes the difference between good and great is really minuscule. In the psychological, testing circles, I'd be labeled an “over-achiever.” Call me that if you like, but I think Christ taught us to shoot for excellence. I won't apologize for my own drive for excellence or for the same in our forefathers who truly made America a land God could and would bless.
Discomfort is relative. The people of Sugumar's village church, I believe, thought nothing of sitting on the floor for worship and not having air conditioning and not even having screens over the windows. They're not used to many of our modern comforts. That doesn't mean they like being hot or feeling cramped from sitting on the hard floor. I was sitting on the stage under a ceiling fan in a chair and I was hot and battling a fly and a mosquito and trying to make sense of the foreign language and customs. They were fine. We visited the “home” of a young mother who was being helped by an infant survival program of Hope International. You would not believe it unless you saw it. They had an old fashioned water pump that drew water from polluted, toxic ground water. But, it was her home and all she knew I'm sure. This is in a Delhi slum where infant mortality is out-the-roof, thus Hope's program targeting infant well-being. Their streets are dirt or concrete alleys where you can almost touch the walls on either side reaching out of the car. We drove through while the children were getting out/going to school (girls go in the morning; boys in the afternoon). There were little kids walking alone or in groups jumping over the sewage ditches and being missed by the car by only inches. Adults, even babies, lay on cots or rags in doorways resting, flies all around. They were resting. I couldn't sleep there, for sure, unless I was completely exhausted. Good grief, I was in pain when I got up in the morning from the different mattress styles I was dealing with each night I was there. As I said before, I'm not as tough as I thought I was and the relativity of my discomfort has greatly increased, I'm afraid.
I am very gratified in the life I live in Wylie, Texas. I love our house and our street and our neighbors to the west (yeah, the others are fine but I don't see them much), all the Christians in our neighborhood, our trees and greenbelts, our space, our schools, our school buses, our swimming pools and playgrounds, our restaurants, our clean air, etc. I've been gone the better part of the last month and Wylie, Texas has never looked better to me. I can't wait to just sit in the house with Tana and Brianna and hopefully my boys, as much as they can get over, and whomever else wants to come and sit. I can't wait for Kole and Jeron to come over for chocolate and to bug me by playing with everything they're not supposed to and not wanting to play with what's okay. My bed. My shower. My kitchen. My office. My chairs. My food. I just can't wait to be home where the nest fits me because it was made for me and I was made for it. Home where I know how things work and I'm not shocked by each new sight. I can't wait to be in our modest, but wonderful church home where I see people I love and who love me and where I see sights that are familiar and safe. “Good morning, Ms. Leslie. How are you today?” And, even if there is a smell to any of it, I've long since quit noticing! There's nothing compared to a trip like Casey and I just took to make one appreciate “home-sweet-home”!
If I could realistically change anything in my life, I'm not sure what it would be. Yeah, I'd like to be perfect, but only if God got the credit. I'd like to be kinder in my grouchy moments, happier in my bluer moments, and stronger in my weaker moments. I'd like to reach more people for Christ and grow more ministries, churches and home groups. I'd like to be more fervent in prayer, more diligent in study, more sacrificial in lifestyle. But really, I'm at a place where I just want to grow more in what I already do and who I already am. I really, sincerely love God. Now, I don't always know how to express it very well. Many days I struggle with getting my heart and mind around what loving him really even means. I really believe in God. Many days I can't get any sensible mental grasp about who he even is or what he is really like. But I'm convinced. I have faith and I live by it. I really care about people. Many days I don't so much as I wish. But, many days I wonder if I care too much in some ways. I am really proud of our church. Yeah, I can see loads of things we could do better. But, we're a church full of people who sincerely care for the others. Anywhere I stand in one of our assemblies, I can reach out and touch people who sincerely love me and the others around, people I can ask on a moment's notice to handle the toughest situations that may arise in our midst, people who love children and the poor and the weak and the disenfranchised. People that step out of their comfort zones and who step into rings of fire. Daily. People that do what they do because of their commitments to Christ, not because it's the “church” thing. People that do most of the good they do when no one is looking. So, maybe it sounds a little arrogant, but I come home thinking I don't know what I would change in my life if I could. I AM living my dream: I have a beautiful wife that bears with me and loves me, I have four of the best children a man could dream of and I could not be prouder of them and they love Tana and me and are our friends and like to hang out with us. They children are getting educated and growing as people and as Christians. We are a part of a wonderful church family, we live in a beautiful city and a beautiful state, we reach lost people and we help poor people and we bear one another's burdens. We think openly, pray consistently, seek God's will constantly, and worship expressively without shame. We wear no brand name, we exalt no human, we serve no other God. We believe there is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all who is over all and in all. We dare to live in hope. We give God the glory for all good things—“Goddeals,” we call them. We openly confess our weakness in order to show his strength, our unworthiness to show his worthiness, and our powerlessness to show his power. Problems, yes. But, right now, I'm one guy that can't really remember what they even are, or at least were, because I've seen the world in a different light, and I truly love the one I live just this moment.
Suffer me two more things: one, thank you, Brad Davis, for the use of the MacBook you just purchased. It was truly a blessing to have it with us. You are truly a generous brother. Two, we just flew over Greenland and it was an amazing sight with it's huge rock outcroppings and glaciers and inlets with icebergs floating in them. I can still see the icebergs that have broken off from the glaciers and are floating out in the ocean. Wow. “Our God is an awesome God, He reigns from Heaven above with wisdom, power, and love. Our God is an awesome God!”
So, there you have it. I've poured my guts out over this deal. I'm sorry that it might have been depressing to you as I really didn't want to seem hopeless and morbid. But, you got it straight from my heart as it really was. I can only hope that God blesses those of you that feel called to read most or all of what I have written. My words are sincere. They are from my heart. They are honest and as forthright as I felt I could respectfully be. I guess the Northeast family and time will tell what this trip was and is really about. I do indeed trust God will work out everything for the good and will conform it all to his plan. Amen and God bless you all!
Posted August 14, 2008
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