Midnight on my side of the world...

It's Saturday night at our flat here in Kathmandu which indicates it is dark and quiet; a typically uneventful evening. It has been a long, but pleasant day. It all started by me waking to the phone ringing in the other room, but I couldn't get up to answer it. When I woke up, both of my hands were (strangely) behind my head on the pillow and both of my arms were dead asleep. Although it was just my arms, it made my whole body feel paralyzed and helpless. Matt just rolled over and laughed at me. He helped me put them down by my sides, but that was just about all the assistance I received.

The days are still hot, but the mornings and evenings are pleasantly cool. Finally, I can sleep with my blanket and not wake up sweating. I love pulling out my long sleeve shirts! Nepal is perfect right now, as far as the climate is concerned. We still get the sweltering tropical heat, but now it is conjoined with the icy Himalayan breeze. It is an intriguing mix. Just as intriguing as viewing the white-capped Himalayas through the branches of palm trees. God's creation is amazing, and here in Nepal, I am constantly reminded of that.

Matt and I prepared ourselves and our stomachs for a challenging lunch today. We were going to the room of a friend to eat whatever she would happen to cook for us, and we had only heard horror stories about her cooking. It is usually cold, way too spicy, and tastes like "the worst food in Nepal" according to friends with experience there. That is not even to mention that her heaping servings are way too big for anyone's stomach...much less weak and feeble ones such as ours. We didn't eat breakfast to make plenty of room. And I packed a liter of water to follow my typical ritual of swallowing entire meals without managing to chew anything. I have quite perfected the skill of swallowing food whole. Most of the the time it doesn't even bother with my taste buds since it avoids touching my tongue. The Nepalis haven't caught on to my scheme, but my American friends see right through it and laugh at me as I do it. But then I am the one laughing when they bite down on a bone or something else inedible from their plates of mystery food. Some friends of ours here have a mantra: Where ever God leads me I will follow. Whatever God feeds me I will swallow. Sad, but true. This is what I repeated aloud to myself as we turned the corner off the main road into their mysteriously beautiful riverside slum.

We walked down a small alley lined with beautiful faces and dirty clothes. We stepped up a neat pile of stones and ducked into Sahida's small room constructed of cardboard, tin, wood scraps and tarp. An old torn up piece of linoleum covered a section of the mud floor and a tiny window in the corner shone the bright sunlight on all the room's inhabitants. We sat on the platform that is used as a bed just after Sahida's eldest daughter straightened out the cloth that covered it. Sahida greeted us with Namastes and kisses while her eldest daughter and some neighbors sat shyly in the darkened corners. Then two of her younger daughters ran in from outside, out of breath from all the playing they had been doing. Their smiles remind us why we'd come all this way.

She served us our food and we prayed for our ability to eat it. When served food in a typical Nepali household, the entire family watches you eat every last bite before partaking themselves. It is quite heavy pressure and often brings me nearly to tears! But today, thank God, despite what I had heard, the food was tasty, not too cold, only semi-spicy, but still way too much. Thankfully we worked it all down - though it took us an hour and a half to scrape the last bites off our tin plates. (I beat Matt - thanks to my water method). While we finished we chatted with Sahida and her family, and her little ones danced for us. "I taught myself," Absana kept telling us. It was kind of obvious, but still quite impressive for an 8 year old. Nepali girls can innately do amazing tricks with their hips and wrists. God's creation is amazing, I thought again to myself.

After several hours there, we made our way back home. Any trip home requires unavoidable meetings with many of our friends on the street and usually a few stops for tea. Today we met Sabila and her boys, and Kushbu and baby Najani. Always a pleasure having tea with these feisty ladies. Matt gave the boys his usual dose of male attention as I held the baby and chatted about this and that. It is always hard for me to hand this particular baby back to her mother. If I could I would steal her and make her my own. This teeny premature baby is perfect in all ways. Again, God's creation is amazing.

Finally at home, we prepare for our WMF community and cohorts to share in worship together. It has been a beautiful day so we head to the roof for fresh air. When we worship from the rooftop we feel as if we are sharing the Lord with those in ear shot. We hope our melodies will move some hearts or at least ease people into peaceful sleeps. We sang by candlelight and had beautiful worship together. As we prayed together, I thanked God for Sahida and her amazing family. I thanked Him for the light in their dark little slum and for the joy and peace that resides under her tin roof. I thanked Him for their dancing and for their bright faces. I thanked Him for my belly full of rice. Then Ramesh began to pray. Ramesh is a recently rehabilitated IV-drug user who has been joining us for worship. His words rang in my ears. He lifted the names of his street friends and asked that God would use him to share His love with them. He said several times "they desperately need you, Jesus" with his face clinched in emotion. As I looked up at him he thanked God for his new life. He thanked God for His love and for caring for even him. Tears flowed from my face as I was floored to be a witness of such words from such a man. I thought to lift my hands in thanksgiving and then I remembered their lifelessness from this morning. I laughed to myself, wiped my tears and smiled. Today was a good day.

God's Grace is amazing.