Papua

Rachel, Rekekah, and I walk to the store while Nathan works at the seminary. As we pass by the tent family at the end of the street, a lady squatting in the dirt smiles and yells, "Papua." She is saying "baby" in Tamil. She waves and Rebekah waves back.

Rebekah is very close to Indians she knows, but wary of strange Indians she passes on the street who try to reach out for her, pinch her cheeks, and hold her. Her caution is a good thing. While many friendly faces abound, the world is a dangerous place. In fact, India is the number one country for child slavery and trafficking. Since this is one of the focal points of my third book in the "Born for India" series, I am now engaged in research. Stay tuned for more about Chosen Ones.

In the meantime, get ready for Book Two, Restored Hearts. My editor wants the manuscript by the end of June. With my daughter's wedding the end of July, I may urge her to postpone that request until August. Will see what my schedule looks like when I return from India. I was able to read back through the manuscript while flying over and plan on doing the same on the return trip to the States.

Recap of Restored Hearts

Newly weds, Gavin and Maggie Munsfield, return to life and ministry in Chennai, India which is still reeling from the recent tsunami. Gavin's brother, Tim, joins them for the cleanup and rebuilding of the compound, but Tim's dark secret threatens to destroy his relationship with his brother . . . and a promising new love.

My Favorite Lake Photos Captured by Nathan

Men fishing with a net at the park.

Around the Lake and Over the Trail

After supper, Rachel, Rebekah, and Grandma Eileen take a walk around the lake. Rebekah enjoys stopping to examine a pebble or two along the way. Nathan enjoys snapping shots of the setting sun and Egretts standing in the marsh.

Bless This House

Slosh, swish. Slosh, swish.

I pull the curtain aside and peer out the window. An Indian woman across the street is pouring water from a bucket onto her cement slab in front of her house. She dumps, then sweeps using a short handle broom with long reeds. When her task is complete, another woman steps onto the slab with a small white bowl in her hand. She stoops and begins to apply a substance I can't quite make out onto the cement. Her motions are rthymic, methodical, ritualistic. Satisfied with the Hindu blessing she has given her home, she rises, opens the gate leading to her front door, and walks in.

Later, Rebekah and I play on the floor together inside her house. The box that housed her new car seat has now become her playhouse. Grandma draws block letters spelling out "JESUS" on the cardboard flap that graces the entrance of Rebekah's "house." We have invited the Lord to bless her house.

I am reminded of the Israelites who at God's command applied the blood of an unblemished lamb to the doorposts of their homes so that the death angel might pass over. I pray that the Hindu lady next door might come to know the true blessing that the Lord Jesus Christ brings to a home when the people within apply His blood to their lives. I hope that someday she will understand that with Jesus she can be safe. But with any other substitute, the blessing she thinks she is invoking on the house is really a curse. She is giving Satan an open door of opportunity to invade the premises and reek havoc over the lives within.

I am also reminded of Deuteronomy 6:9 which instructs parents to write the commands, decrees, and laws of the Lord on the doorposts of their homes so that the children can be reminded to obey Him and love Him with all their hearts.

And so, Grandma and Rebekah bless her playhouse.

Subia, a True Saint!

I talk to Subia after church. He is happy to see me again after a year and a half, but disappointed Sir Chuck is not with me. I am, too. It's only been four days, but I miss hubby somethin' ferious! Hopefully, I'll return home with a deeper commitment to our marriage than ever before. As they say, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." I tend to forget the little irritations that annoy me about him. Only the good qualities rise to the surface. If only I could tuck that bit of realization away for future reference, like when we are together again.

Subia's bright eyes shine as he talks to me. He is still the only convert in his Hindu family. We continue to pray for his wife, an architect, and his family that they will see his genuine faith and be moved by the Holy Spirit to receive Jesus as Savior. Subia is probably in his late 50's, but his faith is as fresh and real as a child's. In response to Pastor Nelson's sermon on faithfulness to the Lord, Subia tells me, "My Lord is loving me, even though I am a very naughty boy." He went on to say, "I was sitting this week and wondering how could I best show that I love the Lord; what would help me see that I truly do love Him. Then it came to me: Obedience. I must obey what He tells me."

Wow! Subia doesn't realize it--he is a humble man--but in two minutes, he has given me a sermon that speaks volumes!

Shell Shock

Rachel stands over a hot stove and dumps shell macaroni into a pot of boiling water. She is appeasing her mother's need for American food. She and Nathan eat very little pasta, but today she prepares one of my favorites--homemade tomato sauce over macaroni.

We peer into the pot and notice tiny black bugs floating on the surface. Rachel grabs a spoon and begins fishing the critters out. Reminds me of something Stephanie's fiance, Matt, shared with me once. He's an MK from Cambodia and knows about these things. :)

During first term, when a missionary finds insects in his food, he throws the food away. During second term, he picks the bugs out and eats the food. Third term, he eats whatever's in there!

"Okay . . . y . . . y," as Rebekah would say. "Whatever!" I'm here for the ride.

Actually, once I got past the shell shock, I thoroughly enjoyed my homemade sauce and pasta lovingly prepared by my daughter.