90.

square feet.

is the size of a home my team and i were welcomed into.

this room is the home of a family of four, and it is just that a home.

as the 6 of us entered, we sat on the bed that almost filled the room.

the meal we shared – was the best Indian food i have had yet, and it was all cooked on a small stove top under the bed.

i can say easily that i have never been in a home that small, and yet i can easily say that our time in that home was one of the times when i have seen the clearest picture of servanthood.  the truest feeling of being served.

these 90 square feet is one of the most visible places i have seen Jesus.

these things i love.

sacrifice.

this past weekend we went to the mountains.

i am still amazed at the things i find surround this place.

the himalayians.  their beauty and greatness.  breathtaking.

it took two buses to get to this place, two very full buses i might add, some even with chickens. but as we began the climb up the mountains, as we left the city and passed green and trees and villages and began to smell fresh air – we found the retreat from the city was a gift.

5:30 we woke up to climb a small hill to see if the clouds would allow the mountains to be seen as the sun climed up from behind the line of snow capped peaks.  much to our delight the many mountians were able to be seen and the sun as it got higher in the sky sun-kissed the peaks to create a beauty all it’s own.  i found in the quite of the morning and the beauty of the sunrise there was a closeness to the creator, however i found too a mix of feeling as some unexpected events transpired as we gazed at this magnificance.

just behind us was a small temple.  currently Nepal is in the midst of the festival deshain.  during this festival there are a few days of animal sacrifice, as we saw some local villagers climbing the hill toting with them a number of goats we wondered what we were going to see.

you might be able to guess, put two and two together, sacrfice time + goats can only mean one thing – the sacrifice of  goats.  as the people carried the freshly sacrificed goats around the temple the blood left it’s mark, it’s covering, and i found myself wondering, as they did their ritualist traditions if what they found was satisfaction.

i found later, as i sat with my thoughts what a picture had been given.   a reminder of the ultimate sacrifice in Jesus, of the freedom i have because of the blood he shed.  the blood he shed that covers me.  i found myself thinking of this sacrifice.

i spoke with some of the nepali women i know here who have practiced for years the rituals of Hinduism, asking them if it was satisfying.  each time i asked i found the answer the same it was one of wonder, wonder of why they did what they did, wonder of why when they prayed to their gods for peace conflict within their household continued, but because their father, grand father, great grand father did these things it is what they found themselves doing the same. but when they found Jesus.

He satisfied them.  His blood covered them and there was peace.

I find that from the people here I learn much about sacrifice.  The families we find oursleves among would literally do anything for us, they live in this place of understanding sacrifice that i don’t believe i fully know yet.  i want to learn to grasp the reality of Jesus blood continually covering me.

in this place, of living in community and in a country that is unfamiliar i find that this thing sacrifice continues to come up.  i am reminded that giving up my desires and wants, my time are not natural tendincies that come out of me.  but i want them too – i want the knowledge of Jesus blood – the knowledge that it is finished to deeply seep into my soul, so that out of this sacrifice for me, i too can find sacrifice to share.

i am ever more grateful for this God of flesh.  ever more grateful that my god is not a god of stone.  ever more desiring for those around me to know that there is a God whose blood was shed, there is a God who desires to know them.

i found myself sitting in front of the majestic mountians, reading Isaiah and clinging to the words ‘abundantly pardons’  wanting to be reminded of that for myself, but also of that for the people of this nation.

because i think when i begin to grasp more fully this sacrifice – this abundant pardon for myself – this blood that was shed so that i don’t have to shed blood – then i will begin to realize that there is joy in sacrifice – that there is life in the blood – that this God of flesh has saved and covered me  – and that i can’t help but beg for the knowledge of this sacrifice for those around me.

unneeded and needed.

i have found an amazingness in the ability to love and enjoy people and a place where words can’t be shared. and i have found a beauty in the ability words have to share life with one another.

in this place.  although i can say things like ‘namaste’ hello– ‘pugyo’ enough  and i can piece together sentances about the weather, what i like or don’t like, what i need or don’t need and what time i am going somewhere…i can’t really carry on a conversation.

we find ourselves with the ammas at Prem Ghar once a week – our communication is limited, but each week we have the opportunity to sit with these women.  Often Jyoti is there to translate but this last week it was just us and them.  The time was a gift.   We found ourselves singing and praying together and laughing when something was said and not understood – laughter is universal and understood – as is a love and passion for Jesus.

but words aren’t always needed i find.  there is a beauty and a blessing in connecting through just being present. sometimes i think i am finding i like it more.

and then sometimes words aren’t enough.  when you watch a film about children who live off of the offerings of people to a god – and you find yourself walking out and among that very reality.  or you watch a film about child brides in Nepal and as you watch you find yourself surrounded by young girls who could tell you memories of when their sister was married as a child.  what do you say then to help yourself realize this reality.

and at times words are needed.

english words are  welcome, when you come home and find your spirit rejoicing or you find your spirit heavy and you have a roommate who will listen morning or night to your musings – who will feel deeply with you the things that are being felt and laugh with you the joys that are being shared.

written words that come from far away through e-mail or post are an encouragement, and they make dear people seem that much closer.

words lifted up in prayer with the community you find yourself a part of – interceeding together for those around you and those things on each others heart are a reminder of the beauty of the body of Christ.

words sung in worship.  bring my heart back to a place of rememberance – of this awesome faithful present God.

and i find myself sometimes overwhelmed with the desire to express in words the things and experiences of this place.  and in moments like now i don’t know how to do it.  but words have power. and yet presence does too – i think i am learning more about both.

not much to say.

a reminder from a friend.

He is sufficient. He is your strength when your surroundings overwhelm you. He is your love to give when you cannot communicate through words. And he has been and will continue to be your joy in the dark places.

and it is true.

i find this week not many words.  things here are becoming more and more comfortable, and more and more enjoyed.  i have been reminded of God’s good care, and the many ways in which He has prepared me for living out this time.  i shouldn’t be surprised.  but i always find a renewed amazement of the awareness God has of me and his great faithfulness.

a little of what i see.

here is just a taste of much of what fills my days here.

i find i am more and more seeing new and beautiful things here.

there is life amidst where you might not expect it.  sometimes that’s where it is the most.

second glance.

i find that i need a second glace.

it’s been almost 3 weeks since being here in this place so different than what i know.  and as i am here i find that things seem to become more and more normal, it’s just what i see everyday.  but then this week i realized.  i need a second glance.

we were told a story of a lake.  there is a lake in the mountains here, a clear, clean, see the every detail and rock on the bottom kindof lake.  a lake that you can’t really describe.  a woman saw the lake and as she looked God spoke to her and said, this is how I see Nepal, how i see Kathmandu.   I see it as clear and right and as pure as this lake.

there is beauty to be seen here, in the colors, the people, the mountains, the sounds, and yet it can so easily get lost in the dirt, and dust, the trash and pollution, the broken places and unpleasent smells, the sad stories of treatment of women, the lostness of the people without knowing God.

and the picture of the lake took me by surprise.  because i found that although i have seen some of the beauty i know also i have lived in the sadness of the dirt, the lack of hope, and i find that i need a second glance.  i need the eyes of jesus to cover my own and show me the beauty of this place, these people as he sees them this land and nation clean, his Kingdom coming to this place and this people.

i want to see it.  i want to feel it.  i don’t want to miss what is here of Jesus.

because i know he’s here.

broken. so sing.

there has been something within this week that has been broken.  something within me.  i have to say that this past week has been hard.  overwhelming. full of desire to be home, somewhere comfortable. 

i wasn’t sure how i was going to make it.  how i was going to survive if this was only a few days into my journey here.  and then i got sick.  and being sick doesn’t help these feelings of desire to be anywhere but here. 

but something broke in my weakness.  something is coming out of my desperation.  and it seems to be glimpses of redemption, glimpses of hope, and a feeling of peace. and a reminder of a reason to sing.

three days a week Bekah, Rebecca, Shona and I have the priviledge to volunteer at a place called Pashu Padi.  this is a place for the elderly, a place for those who have been left at a temple, beside the holiest river in the city, where the ashes of people are placed after they have died.   this place has been one of the things that has blessed me the most.  one of the placese where there is redemption, where there is life.

Bekah, who is my roommate here, has been such a gift to me, and i saw life and dignity through her yesterday.  Each day we have been at Pashu Padi she has fed one woman her lunch.   This woman doesn’t speak, and has a hard time keeping her head still.  I was sitting, and taking all in and then I heard something, someone was singing, and as I noticed it was Bekah, I noticed that the woman she was feeding wasn’t shaking as much as she usually does, and that things just seemed more peaceful more at rest more right.  Singing doesn’t seem like a large thing, and we often don’t think of it as something that gives someone dignity, but it did, it does, and it is one of the most beautiful things have have seen thus far.

100 years old is a women who sits along the wall, also unable to walk on her own, and yet someone is always near her, feeding, doing dishes, tucking her in, making sure she is well.  It is her husband.  He looks and acts younger and he could very easily be doing other things, but he is truly never far from his wifes side.  Rebecca and I took this woman to her bed yesterday, following the husbands lead, and as we layed her down he thanked us, and then as we walked away we watched as he gently and lovingly made sure all was right with her.  Rebecca and I both said we wish we could just watch them for more than just a moment…because the picture of love, and commitment in this couple is one of the most beautiful things of life and hope i have ever seen.

there are times of tea within the house of a believer, there are times where schedules have changed and we have been given rest, there have been times where the rain at night has quieted down the sounds that are many here, there have been times of late night heart to hearts - and in these simple moments there is peace, peace that there is someone who is in charge other than me, peace that someone deeply knows what i need. 

i think what broke in me was the difference between realizing in my head that i was here with Jesus who knows what i need and is in care over me, and actually believing that it was true. 

almost as if i forgot who i carried with me, i forgot to sing in places where it was hard.  but slowly.  i think i am beginning to rememeber that when i am weak he is strong, and that always gives me reason to sing especially when i am broken.

grace peace and love from nepal.

touch.

touch is a main part of life.

it is one of the 5 senses. but in America touch doesn’t seem to stand out to me as much as it does in Nepal.

in these few days of being in this new place lots of things have touched me. 

i hugged my 3 new friends in the houston airport.   these women have become the closest part of home for me here.

then it continued as the heat of Qatar hit me as we stepped off of the plane – i have never experienced heat like that before it really does feel as if it touching you. 

and in nepal the touch is coming not only from the physical parts of this place but also the stories i find myself hearing about life here. physical touch comes much of the time as personal space doesn’t exist here,  so whether you are walking the streets, sitting in a bus, or sitting in church, you would be amazed at the amount of people that can be in one place at one time. 

and then there is physical touch in places where you are family. like Kharum Ghar a home for physicially and emotionally abused girls begun by word made flesh.  this home has been a haven for me.  it has been a place of life and love and joy.  entering there you are touched with a kiss on both cheeks and then you are covered in the closeness of kids.  already in 4 days of being here i feel as if they are a part of my family here.  just last night we were given a welcome drama and song, followed by our first experience eating dahl baat.  and i found that ‘dahl baat ekdam metho chha’ which means it is very good.

the touch has also happened as i have heard stories of the ways in which women are treated here in Nepal, the stories are incredible – incredibly hard to believe.  i am still trying to wrap my mind around what i have heard.  it just makes me more thankful for places like Kharuna Ghar – where there is redemption to be seen.  and then there are miraculous stories where God has touched people in astounding ways, where he has called them out of darkness into his wonderful light.

then there are touch rules, like your left hand for example – which is used here to touch ‘unclean’ things and therefore is not used in much of daily living and if it is it is a discrace…i have to admit i might need to tie my hand behind my back…thank goodness for grace. 

then what your feet touch is a whole different story.  always shoes come off when entering a home, and position of feet has to be considered always as they are an unclean part of yourself and facing them towards someone is not something you want to do. 

i could keep going as in these days there has been so much that has touched me, but limited time asks me to just share one more thing.

i know beyond a doubt, that without the touch of Jesus on my life, i could not remain here.  this place is full of beauty and yet of a poverty unlike i have seen or experienced before and i find myself in these first days overwhelmed, overwhelmed by my desperation for this Savior, for the hope and light that he offers for his touch upon me.  i desire it for you as well, i desire so many things for you to experience here with me, like tea and the slowness of time and the beauty of this people, but most of all i hope that God can create within you and your life a desperateness unlike you have had before, an awareness that you need his touch upon you daily, hourly, every moment.   

and may i encourage you in the states to be more aware of the things we touch, of who we touch, of who touches you.  because even things like the handle to flush a toilet, or the lightswitch that always provides electricity, or the water that you don’t have to think about drinking are things worth thinking about touching, or who you bump into on the street, or who you speak to or not, or who you let into your life to kiss you on both cheeks these things i believe are more important than we know, more of a gift than we recognize – because in them i beleive we can find reminders of the touch of Jesus.

I am well, because Jesus is here with me.

lizzy.

is the name of my sweet friend.

she and i haven’t know each other long.

just a few weeks of the summer.

but she has been such a gift of God to me.

lizzy has been a reminder that God knows what we need before we do.

through lizzy God gave me laughter, he gave me grace, he gave me acceptence, he asked me to think, he was a shoulder to cry on, he was constant, he was a friend that remembered details, he was an intercessor, he was one who shared himself.  he loved me.

he gave me a picture of his abundance.  he gave me a sweet friend.