8 and 9

I know the thought of leaving is premature, but it's a thought nonetheless. I shouldn't be thinking about leaving because I just got here. However, I have been here for 1 month 12 days and counting. I was curious how much time I have left, and so I made another countdown. I have approximately 8 months and 9 days until I have to pack up and leave the compound, then leave for America the next day. 

I should be coming out of this honeymoon phase according to the missions book and everyone else's experience. However, I'm still in it I think. Don't get me wrong. There are some days I do miss people at home and I get a little upset when the Internet is Bleh and doesn't allow me to Skype. And yet, I am constantly reminded of my countdown. I only have 8 months and 9 days more for Ming Um and Opanowh to come into my hostel and play in my hammock and ask me to buy them one. Only 8 months and 9 days more to learn Garo and really feel connected with the villagers. Only 8 months and 9 days more to play Saturday night live games with the teens and hear them laugh more than everyone else in the world. Only 8 and 9 to take rice and potatoes for every meal and eat with the boys. Only 8 and 9 to listen to the guys tell me stories about farting until they fall on the ground almost in tears with laughter. Only 8 and 9  to say hello to YoYo, the cutest Manipur  3 year old ever and have her have no idea what I'm saying and vice versa. 8 and 9 to hear Gulapi crying...again and the roosters to crow and make their presence known. 8 and 9 to play volleyball with the guys and 8 and 9 to make the girls laugh. To sneak chilies and drive the motorcycle. To play "honey if you love me" with my director and give 5 worship talks to the congregation in a week. To have the garo children stare at me and all of satan's spawn animals attack me in my hostel. To learn Indian English and drink Maaza and Bourn Vita. To share more Jesus and be shown more jesus. 

Ming Um, one of the funniest children alive, asked me one day when I was going to the nearby town for the day: Sir are you going home?! It was in so much distress you would have thought I told him his dog died. I quickly reassured him that I was only going to be gone for the day and that I would return in the evening. That was only after being here for a couple of weeks. The girls and boys have already told me I can't leave and keep asking me when I'm coming back. They prob ask all the missionaries that. I tell them I don't want to leave but that I will return to visit, at the least, in 3 years after I pay the government some money. They seem to be ok with that answer but at the same time not. They want me to stay and so do I. At least for now.

I'm very quickly becoming Indian in my speech and thought and ways of doing things. Eating with my hands more, using Indian slang and such. This, I would say, is home. And like most of my homes, I don't want to leave too quickly.

But instead of thinking about how much time I have left, I've decided to just go day by day and enjoy the time I have for the weather to almost take my hostel away. To enjoy going to the bazaar and putting on a show. To enjoy driving the motorcycle and making apple crisp in a pot. To sleep on the floor and use the restroom in an outhouse. To take cold bucket 9 pm showers and not shave. Just to take it all in. For im not sure what the future holds. I could go back to the U.S. and be unable to return for whatever reasons. I'm not sure. Do I want it to go that way? No. Will it? I don't know. And so for now, as my 8 and 9 gets to 7 and 8 and 6 and 7 and 5 and 6. I'll take it all in. Day by day. Step by step. 

Oh Jesus come soon so we can all be together.

What a glorious day that will be. 

Bless. 

To Be Continued

That lady is fine. Just in case there were people who were wondering about the lady bleeding from 3 am. She ended up Goin to the hospital and strangely enough, the doctors couldn't find a thing wrong with her. She was admitted for a couple of days and then they let her go home. They never told her or us if she had a detached placenta or placenta previa or anything. Doctors here pretty much think that everyone who is not a doctor is too dumb to understand and doesn't need to know anyway. The doctors run the show. 

Anyway, the lady came home and that sunday she actually delivered just fine. We were not there for the delivery because we were not needed. The families only call if there are complications. We went to see the baby. Such a beautiful beautiful baby girl. Ms Leishimi held the baby, and I sat next to her. And then I was given the privilege to name her.

You never know how unprepared you are to name a baby until the opportunity is thrown in your lap like it was just then. And so I took paper and just started naming off all my close female friends. We went from Cassie, Marie, Chelsea and Brianna, to Emery, Emily, Anna and Amy. I was very much trying to convince them to pick one of my friend's names. I mean how cool it was going to be if I could tell a friend that I named a baby after her. That would be legit. After much thought and convincing, they liked Emery the best! Then we prayed for little Emery. We prayed she would grow up in the ways of Jesus, that her parents would teach her His statutes, that she would love and serve Him all of her days. 

Afterwards we left and were just in awe of how everything played out. From only a couple of days previous, we worried for the life of this mother and baby, fully convinced that she might bleed to death if home delivery was done. And yet we prayed. We prayed for a miracle, the Lord to work on these lives, for us to be wrong. I thought I would love for all of my knowledge of nursing to be wrong just for the sake of this mother and baby. Today, I don't know if I was right or wrong. I just know the Lord did a mighty work like he always does. He was in control and preserved life. That's a miracle, especially because we as humans are so good at messing things up. From these experiences I have learned to pray more, to believe more and to act with the knowledge that God can multiply my little efforts. I'm no doctor. I'm not even a bachelor's level nurse. Just a 21 year old who just became licensed to work in a hospital as an RN. I don't know much, but I do serve an all knowing God. And so far, that seems to be enough. I haven't been called to save the world because One already took care of that. I am called to serve though. We all are. Wherever we are. So serve, I challenge you, and you'll be surprised where it leads you.

What will be your story? Well that, my friends, will be To Be Continued. 

Bless the Lord

The Playground

Every Sabbath afternoon, we have AY or Adventist Youth. Indian Style AY normally consists of a walk and an afternoon program as we prepare to close out the sabbath. Sometimes the walks are short; other times the walks take us to Narnia, Neverland, and the place in that terrible movie, the Neverending Story. Thats how long they can be. This particular walk we went to the playground. Being the silly American that I am, I should have known that the playground was not going to have a tire swing, some seesaws, and a jungle gym in the middle of a jungle in the middle of India. And yet, I am still the silly American.

And so the walk began. First down the hill behind the compound, then literally over the river and through the woods, beneath the bamboo, through the trees, around that one fruit tree in which the children convinced me to eat the fruit that did not take my life, and so on. With each step, I just knew I would never return. I figured if our guide perished, we'd be lost forever and I'd be forced to eat bamboo soup until the animals of the forest finished me off. Moreover, if I fell to my death, who would do the nursing necessary if someone got hurt. Hahaha they wouldn't need me. Anyway, we continued on our path. At this point I was surprised I hadn't seen any snake or giant Lord of the Rings spiders.

We finally got to our destination. It was all before me. I thought it was a joke. But nope, no pinching necessary. It was a playground indeed. It was simply a field where children played. Pretty much a soccer field. That's exactly what it was. An open soccer field. That's it. But maybe I shouldn't see it as just that because I'm sure great things happen at that place. And so we all sat down.

I always find it interesting how often the kids want me to lead out in songs and then no one wants to join in. Just like at camp, I sung with such joy (looking incredibly silly and not caring) until someone joined it. Someone has to get the masses excited about Jesus! The midwives are the funniest. They are all very much older than me and just stare and laugh at me. Sometimes they talk. I wonder if they laugh, look away, stare, or do all three because they think I'm cute or weird or awkward or all three. And so we kind of sang songs until everyone else arrived. Then AY began. Ms Awon led it this time. She split us up into teams. This was the first time I realized that I was at least someone well liked. All the kids wanted to be on my team. It was a nice feeling. It's kinda how you know you are well liked. Half the people who ended up in my team most definitely weren't there to begin with. Ha.

We played a music game where we had to start a song with the first letter of the last word of the previous song that the previous group sung..or.... If group A sung "it is well" and ended the song with "roll" group B had to start a new song with the letter R. You had 30 secs to think of a song. It took half the time to figure out the game, but in the end, it was such a great time. Our fun was short lived because we realized that we were far from campus and didn't want to perish in the forest if it got dark. Ok, I was probably the only one who was thinking like that.

I took the guys on a cross country-like run. I encouraged them like my teammates did for me in high school. The struggle was much more real, however, as we legit climbed mountains and almost fell down them. Probably shouldn't have ran. At one point, we reached the top of a hill and could see the vast expanse of the jungle around. "I live here," I thought. Wild. Literally, it is wild here.

We made it back safe. I'm not writing this from a hospital bed which is proof I didn't lose my life. Alabanza. I'm hoping for more Playground experiences. More days like this. A little more recklessness. A little bit of adventure. More open fields filled with opportunity. Glorious opportunity. Let's do it.

Hobey Ho. 

Camp on Steroids

Anyone who knows me knows that I love camp. I love the area, I love the staff, and I love the kids to death. It takes about  two days, but normally by Tuesday of each week, my kids of shoshoni cabin are like my little brothers, temporary sons, the like. I grow close to them and am always sad to see them leave when Sunday rolls around.

Beings here at Springs of Love is like being at camp on steroids. The area is so incredible. The rolling hills make me feel I like I am always in an adventure. There are places to be discovered, people to see, cows to almost hit with my scooter. The staff I work with make working here filled with countless laughs. Just having causal conversations with them make me laugh. Their English, Indians saying, and mannerisms make every day filled with something to laugh about.

And then there are the kids. I really loved teen camp at ICC because the kids were at an age that I can could have serious conversations with them. I could joke with the kids and they could joke with me. They offered insight to talks but were still awkward. They were blossoming young men and women and reminded me that I was just where they were. I felt my life being relived though many of them. In others I saw pain and wanted to share my Jesus, who was also their Jesus, with them. The teens here at springs of love are no different. The boys and girls make me cackle with laughter. They tell me jokes. They make fun of me on a daily, which actually makes me laugh because it shows how much of   foreigner I am. And yet, I laugh at their English words that make me scratch my head until I actually figure I out what they are saying. They always want to play on my team, help them sing special songs, play uno, help with the terrible math HW I always give them.

Yesterday I was reminded once again how much I'm enjoying myself and am being blessed by each of the kids. We played a bible trivia game for AY. You would have thought the questions were for seminary students. Or maybe it was a reminder that I need to read my bible more. For most of the questions the kids were clueless like me. We all made jokes for the unknown ones. I also have gotten them to say "alabanza" and "bless" along with other words. Moriah would be proud. It was just a great time. Later, I was teaching the girls some camp songs with motions. They are extremely fond of motion songs. After, we played "Fruit Basket Upside Down", a game which invokes lots of running and screaming, which I love to do. We played that into the night as the sun set. After dinner was SNL. The kids really look forward to the games I have planned for them. Sometimes I really struggle to come up with group games, but the internet is helping. Last night I made up a game called Blind and Many Distractions, a game that involves doing things blind and distracted. Who knew? They enjoyed that one even though it took half the time to actually get started. With the chaos and screaming and fun, I became lost in the moment. They say that you go to do work in the mission field in order to bless and reach others. In actuality, the tables are turned the majority of the time. Their happiness make me happy, their laughter makes me laugh, and their love makes me want to love some more. Just like camp, the kids help me learn more lessons than that they could ever know.

I'm having fun here, if you didn't know. I'm learning a lot. Culture is being poured in and out of me. I'm doing lots of unexpected things like teaching adult sabbath school with an hour's notice. I'm learning two languages. I'm driving motorcycles. I'm absorbing in all the sunrises and sunsets and being amazed by the night stars. I'm laughing a lot and praising God with this people on a daily basis. It's alright. More than alright actually.

I asked a friend of mine how long she thinks my honeymoon stage will last. She told me "probably as long as your attitude allows." It was the perfect answer. My connection to God and attitude will be the determining factors in how this time here in India plays out. I'm already dreading the fact that a month has passed by because that means I have to come back in t-minus 9 months. I'm currently not overjoyed with the thought. I'm sure it will change. For now, I'm going to enjoy this camp on steroids and see how long this attitude will last.

Alabanza and Bless.

3 am

When Ms. Leishimi called to me at 3 am this morning, I knew something was up. Who would dare wake me at such an ungodly hour in the morning? Like always, I answered her like I was wide awake... A lie. It was a medical emergency she said. A mother near delivery was bleeding out. Not good.

And so I threw on some clothes and gathered my things as all of my mother/baby knowledge from a year ago flooding in my mind. "What if she had placenta previa or an abruption of the uterus? Those are both medical emergencies and must be seen in a stable setting. I prayed a lot in those moments getting ready. Prayed for life as I was so very tired. I prayed for Ms. Leishimi and myself for wisdom as far as what to do. Our knowledge is very small compared to physicians but it's been incredible seeing the Lord give us knowledge and multiplying our efforts. Patients have been made well; not by our little work though. Mercy.

I drove the waker behind the sumo. I prayed again. This time, for enough light to see where I was going and that the dust from the sumo in front of me would blind or choke me, sending me into peril as I drove off a cliff. When we arrived at the home, the two midwife students and Ms. Leishimi and all gathered into the tiny home. We went to work. The mother complained of painful bleeding not associated with any labor. I immediate thought "placental abruption!" (Thanks Mrs. Dedeker) Ms. Leishimi and I tossed around the possibility of this mother suffering from placenta previa or abruption. Both still bad. Both still medical emergencies.

I yelled advice from the outside as the ladies did all the assessments of the patient (men not allowed in the room). I read up mother/baby complications as they continued.

I initially suggested the hospital knowing that if she was suffering from either of these complications, the baby and mother could die during labor. Or the baby before labor (side note: the men and some other mothers are sitting next to me in the yard of this patient as we wait for the ambulance. Every time they say Doctor, I know they're talking about me. Even though I don't know what they're saying, it's nice to be referred to as a doctor :) )

We tried to call Auntie Lois, the midwife teacher at the compound. She also suspected placental abruption and suggested a non stress test and definitely a trip to the hospital. We informed the family. Interestingly, here at our location, the people don't like going to the hospital too often. They believe their local medicine will work or that the situations aren't that serious. Or they don't have money. This family made all these excuses including having another child around 18 months who was a little sick. They weren't sure where to leave him. Moreover, they didn't make a birthing card for the baby. When doing deliveries at the hospital, they really desire at least this card. If not they could be scolded and the staff mad. My thoughts to all this... WHO CARES!?!? This mother and baby could die! Send the kid to his grandmas or a friend. He shall live without his parents from an evening. Money were were providing and the doctors would just have to be mad. I couldn't imagine having two precious lives die in front of me because of silly excuses. And so we continued to wait.

We performed the non stress test for 50 min. It was here that the lack of sleep began to overcome me. There is nothing more tiring then counting fetal heart rates for 50 min. Besides giving birth and a lot of other things.

After the test, The results showed that the baby would not survive regular birth. Hospitalization was pretty much a necessity at this moment.

We tried again to convince them. They once again wanted to use other means of treatments. This time. Local medicines. My thoughts, Ummm does your local medicine stop bleeding and save the baby??! We need more help. May the Lord be merciful to this family and give them reason on high.

I then went for food cause it seemed like we were just Going to wait out this birth and die trying. I went back down the mountain and drove back to campus got food and returned, asking God to spare these lives or give them enough to reason have them go to the hospital.

ANDDDDD ALABANZA TO THE LORD. They agreed to go to the hospital in the time I was away. Ms. Leishimi did a great job convincing them. We had breakfast and waited. For the ambulance. For help.

To be continued...

Kameron Carter

The Negative Side to be a Math Teacher

 Today I had to scold my students for the first time that I have been teaching math. There is already much struggle with teaching math because most kids hate math and consequently may have a disliking for you or your class. They may not care,  they may cheat, etc. Even after allowing the kids more than 2 days to do the same homework, for I saw that they were still confused, and I forgot to take up their journals, and after reminding them with a stern voice— “make sure this assignment is correct because it WILL be a grade. You now have time to redo the assignment. Please CHECK IT”— their work was still mostly wrong. Only one of my students in this class actually did semi well. The rest were making silly mistakes throughout, coping the problems down incorrectly, or simply not doing problems. That gave me the impression that when I speak with “warning” in my voice, “this problem is also on your HW. Make sure you do it,” they aren’t listening. Moreover, some were making the exact, very unique mistakes, which suggested even with the time given, some were still cheating. This is sad because I offer to tutor every day from 7-830 pm, if they need help.  I understand math is very difficult; however, I believe in what the Lord can do through these kids. And so I threw some grace on the situation because a friend of mine helped me realize that the Lord is soooooooo gracious to us. After going over all the questions in class, I challenged them to redo the homework over the 3 day weekend and show all the work. If then, I saw improvement, I would consider changing their grades.

Oh how my heart hurt when I had to tell me students to pay attention in class, ask questions, don’t cheat, etc. I used my Ricky voice in it all. It’s my scary stern voice. I hope I got through to them; but I also hope they saw the love and concern and Jesus in the way I spoke to them.

Then I thought, “How does Jesus scold us, his children?” How does He speak with love and seriousness at the same time? How gracious is He really to us? Why does He even bother with His children who are rebellious, don’t listen, and constantly sin against me. Then I thought, He is love. But not the love we imagine and “perform” day by day. Our love can’t even measure up to His. The  concept of true Love can’t be put into words. If God is Love and God cant truly be described by human words that are tainted with sin, then Love is also indescribable. At least that’s how I see it. We can saw that God is a man, but if that be the case, then like man, God makes mistakes, which is not God. If God is all-powerful, how far does His power reach? Well infinity we may say; but how far is infinity? I can’t grasp it. In the same manner, that’s how hard it is for me to comprehend the Love that is God. The only thing I can compare it to is what He says in His Word: Love is Him laying down His Son as a sacrifice for a rebellious, sinful, back sliding world.  

That’s crazy. That’s wild. Think about it.

I know I’m only a temporary teacher. Yet, I am the student of the Only indescribable Teacher.

Bless

Chances Are (Prayer Meeting Version)

I am learning to embrace all awkwardness.

Because chances are, if you are me in a distant land like India, one day you will be asked lead the songs prayer meeting.

Chances are it will be the exact day that you are experiencing a mild cold and your throat is dry and scratchy and not made for singing.

Chances are, even though you ask the speaker questions in order to be prepared, it will still look like you have no idea what you're doing when you go up front.

Chances are you will arrive super early to the meeting even though you thought you were late but realize no one else is there. You will start the songs with only a few people in a key a little lower than you would like because you don't want your voice to crack like a small prepubescent boy wearing clothes that are entirely too tight for him.

Chances are, you will want to sing at a normal pace that doesn't sound like everyone is barely holding onto life. When you start singing the first songs a little faster than normal for the congregation, no one will join you because either they know every other song in the adventist hymnal expect for the ones you picked, or they don't want to sing, or they hate me, or maybe the song is too long.

But chances are, the one person who makes your solo song leading into a duet song leading extravaganza will sing in a slow pitched opera like phantom of the opera on Broadway. It will make your faster paced song awkward as you sing above her to get her to sing at your pace.

Chances are, when you finally sing a song you think the congregation knows, they will sing the song awkwardly because their music book is words only and so they sing it how they were taught their whole lives instead of the way the music is written in my book. It will make you look awkward as they pause when there is no literal pause and when they hold out notes that aren't supposed to be held out.

Chances are you will get through it all.

But then chances are, the speaker will ask for the closing prayer and then she will ask you, via sign language, to do a closing song. So you pick one and we sing it slow like we're waiting on some woman to give birth. Then you think in your head, I should give another prayer and everyone will look at you in "agreeance". But instead you go against your gut feeling and just dismiss everyone. Yea it's over

Chances are, this is how is must happen because hey, I'm a missionary in a distant land and that's just how it goes.

glory.




Kameron Carter

Reckless

Someone was murdered yesterday. Not sure the entire details, but they were nearby. It makes a little sense cause today is a bond day in India. Bond days are those days in which rebels of the government declare that they have the power. They do so by killing random people who decide to come out on this day; so we are all staying inside today. There is no school, we aren't going to the Dolongre bazaar, and we aren't going to see patients today. Which is fine because I like life. I like life here too.

Last night, one of the female staff bought a chicken from the village. She wanted the chicken. Right then. At 6 pm when the sun was down. On bond day. And since she convinced me that we would be fine, I drove her out to the village on the waker. Plus, God always gives us safe travels. And so we drove out. Every pedestrian we passed by was a suspect. My situation is a little more reckless than others because here when two people of the opposite sex travel together, you had better be married, siblings, or parent and child. If not, some villagers can get upset and attack. This was the second lady I had driven on the waker (Ms. Leshimi and I normally go out). We were safe though. When we got to the lady's house, it was just Ambi, the older lady who is kind of like Ms. Leshimi's grandmother. She knows me well. We talked a little in Garo and got the chicken. The poor fellow didn't know he was going to his death as his legs were tied together and thrown in a bag. Tragic. The female staff member then threw the bag in her back pack and we went back.

I also came down with a little bit of cold recently. So I'm trying to rest up. When the nurses get sick, that is normally the time that everything falls apart. It happened last week when Ms. Leshimi fell ill and it's already happening now with me a little under the weather. Everyone wants to go to the hospital now, everyone needs a bandaid, everyone in campus is sick, and of course the midwife teacher is currently in town getting supplies which makes Ms. Leshimi the stand in teacher. It's a little crazy and reckless. But we'll get through it. I know. One tissue at a time. Day by day. It's going to be a fun week. And a little reckless.

Hobey Ho and here we go.

American Mistakes

 It is only normal to make foreigner mistakes in a foreign land. I’m sure mine have been noting but comical.

There was the time Ms. Leishimi and I went to visit a name named Ragan. In India, older people and authority are given terms of endearment along with their name, such as brother Silas or sister Ella. If you are Garo, you are baboo, nono, achu, ambi, dada (small boy, small girl, older man, older woman, brother respectively) and so on. We came near to Ragan’s house and were unsure if he was home. And so I checked. I yelled “RAGAN!!!” Just like an American, just like in Westside where the residents yell “WHO IS IT!?” from the top of the steps. I should have said Achu Ragan or achu or just not yelled. That would have worked too.

There was the time I ate in the female staff’s house after being invited in repeatedly. Authority later told me, that that would not be tolerated.

Then there were the many times I exposed my money to passersby and thankfully didn’t get mugged.

There were the many times I told the kids I was “going to bazaar” instead of specifying which bazaar I was going to. They still ask me where I’m going on Monday’s and think it’s the funniest thing.

There was the time I talked way too fast to anyone and everyone even though I know the English of the people here isn’t the best and no one can understand me.

There was the time I went to the girl’s bathroom at the restaurant cause the sign wasn’t very clear.

And then there was the time I tried a king chili at lunch… the boys offered me a king chili (pepper) at lunch today. I like hot things and like to challenge my pallet (while on the side trying to prove that I’m not a punk and am willing to try pretty much anything). Well I tore the pepper up with my fingers because the guys told me it was really hot and that I shouldn’t eat it in one bite. Not a problem. They said just to wash my hands really well afterward. Noted. I finished the pepper and my meal; it was a nice one. Then we played UNO like we have recently been doing every lunch. Then my eye itched. And then I just slightly brushed my eye with my finger.

And then someone took a blow torch to my eye. American mistake. The worst mistake. Before Ice Princess (for John) :) Then my eye burned as I fled to my room three quarters blind because I wasn’t wearing my glasses and had an eye closed; having them open was worse. I ran into a clothesline because I couldn’t see and everything is too low for me because nothing is my size. Then I put saline solution in my eyes thinking that would help; it didn’t. So I ran to the spout and flushed my eyes for who knows how long. I got wet. Really wet. The pain at first wasn’t going anywhere and I just knew the dreaded poison was reaching every layer of my eye and I knew I would go blind and never see the face of my smiling wife ever. Too far? Ok too far. In the end, it all washed out with soap, and my sopping wet self went to scrub my hands, nails, bones… to get all the oils out. The guys were concerned which was nice and made me feel a little better that they had done the same before. Still a silly typical foreigner, and in my case, American mistake.

And yet, how many times does the Lord give us such wise council, fare warning, and sage advice concerning everything about our lives? And how many times do we not listen because we think, “ill do it later” or “He doesn’t know what He is talking about.” Unfortunately for us, we don’t always listen and get king chili oil in our eyes. Fortunately for us, His blood like flowing water from the biggest spout ever, covers us, washes our sin, our mistakes, and everything else that is not like Him. And then He makes beautiful things out of our mistakes. Our wrongs into rights, our dirt into flowers, our hate into love. And that’s all right if I do say so. It’s fantastic actually. It’s the beauty of serving the Being of all creation. The one who formed our galaxy and the Andromeda galaxy (look up that Hubble telescope picture if you haven’t seen it).

His Word points us back to Him, away from wrong, away from sin, and back to Him. Why don’t we read it and use it more often? I’m certainly guilty. All the time. And yet, He’s helping me get back to it. Back to the basics. Back to Him. Back to life. Hopefully He will for you too.

That’s what India has taught me today.  

Alabanza.

Sing a Song to the Lord

On Friday nights here at the compound, the guys sing hymns and old songs at the top of their lungs. Its quite fantastic. They don’t care who hears them. They sing anyway. In fact, they aren’t ashamed to do a lot of things. It’s one thing about the guys that makes them so awesome. Oh yea, I forgot to introduce them. There is Blessingson, Bamuram, Suban, Mitun, Muktu, Silas, Robert, Maneese, Timray, Cornel, Rueben, and I think that’s it. Pictures to come soon. All the guys have their own personalities. They are incredibly hilarious, some outgoing, some to themselves, some always smiling, others always displaying the criminal look. They have really grown on me in the 7 days that I have known them. I’m already excited to see how much more times we’ll have together.

Back to the singing. Why don’t we sing more often? Why don’t we care who hears? Why don’t we sing at the tops of our lungs until we’re thrown out into the streets? And even then, we should keep singing. This message we have for the world is so incredible! It must to be preached. And if we don’t tell them, then who will? So many are hurting and crying out for something more than what this world has to offer.

Today, we met a family that told us all about their financial problems, including being held at gunpoint by drug lords for not paying back some kind of debt. They have 10 kids. If any of them died, how would the family go on? We prayed for them. We prayed in faith that according to the Lord’s riches and glory, He would provide for this family.

This is only one reason we should never stop singing. Because the world needs to hear the good news. Lift up your voices. It’s not a matter of whether or not you can sing or if you know the language or it not. It matters what message you are singing. What message are you singing? I ask myself what song I am singing. I hope and pray it’s a song of urgency to this world to prepare for the coming of the Lord, because according to the blessed voices of the Young Men of Springs of Love, soon and very soon, we are going to see the King.

And they all said, Alabanza.

What Its Like

In 10 minutes, im going to summarize my current life here in india. ignore all grammar, spelling and syntax.

So i live at springs of love, a compound and school here in meghalaya india. i teach math to 9th and 10th graders in the morning and visit patients in the morning and evening. I pass out meds, do a lot of assessments, and pretend like i speak the language as i drive around on a scootie that is way to big for me and ms. leishimi.

Everyday i eat rice and curry. every meal pretty much. its good, but i sprinkle some seasonings of cuba to make everything just right.

7 min.

I dont know the language yet, but am attempting to learn Garo and Hindi. prayers are appreciated cause learning at least Garo is very important.

the kids are awesome here. they dont just stare at me anymore. we actually laugh and have good times. the midwife students still stare at me however, and there is this one man who attempts to steal my soul every time he looks at me. idk whats up

im also the host of the new Saturday night live at the compound. the kids love that, especially since they dont get too much fun time in the week.

The chickens and roosters run the place and are the most obnoxious things in life, besides the cows that also walk the streets because they also dont care.


the Lord is forever good to me.

time is up. internet cafe bye!