Dear India

It's crazy to think that you have been my home now for 22 months. I know that many people will try to tell me that the past two years of my life have only been a "trip," but you and I both know better. Even in the times where I was kicking and screaming to get out of you and move back to somewhere more comfortable and less loud and smelly, you were still my home. 22 months is a long time to live somewhere. I established a life in you, India; a life that had a schedule, a rhythm of sorts. And while I lived within your borders, I learned so much.

While I lived in Kochin, I learned that air conditioning is my best friend, and I learned how to live on egg and cheese sandwiches when I couldn't figure out how to make anything else with the ingredients in the grocery store. I figured out that true contentment can only come from intimacy with the Father and isn't based on my circumstances. Yes, there were so many times where I broke down. Like the day where I was forced to eat so much rice that I thought my stomach was going to explode and then I got shoved into a car with 14 other Indians and Danae to travel multiple hours in extreme heat to a function where I was forced to eat more rice. Ya, that was fun. Or when I had a completely irrational breakdown at the theater when the movie I wanted to see wasn't playing (culture shock can be a beast!). But Kochin also taught me about the power of prayer when the Father provided the most dear of friends when she was extremely needed in my life.

And then, precious India, I came to Bangalore. It was like a breath of fresh air the minute I walked around the street in front of my flat. And the air really was fresher and cooler because it was about 15 degrees cooler than Kochin! And here, I really established a home. I made friends. I learned how to cook more than just egg sandwiches. I learned a language. I figured out how to navigate this crazy city.

India, as I reflect back on my time here, I realize there are some things about you that I will never understand. I will never accept or tolerate the way that you treat your women. I will never be ok with the way that poor people are cast aside and neglected. I hate the injustice that runs rampant in your streets and the horrific abuses that happen inside your homes. I can't wait to not have to travel by auto anymore because I won't have to fight skin tax. I look forward to being able to dress normally and to be able to be myself, because so often here, I feel like I won't be accepted if I was simply myself. I'm excited to be able to show pictures of my family and not worry that their "imodesty" will offend. And one day soon, I will get to fix my own plate of food with the amount that I want. And I won't hear the words "not possible" and "it is not there" anymore! Yes, that will be a good day.

But it will also be a very sad day. Because that's the paridoxical beauty of you, India. Although you can make me more angry than anything in the world, I will miss you so much. I will miss the man shouting "paper" every morning outside my window. I will miss the precious uncles and aunties that have gone out of their way to help me adjust to my life here. I can't imagine not being able to get cheap, yummy Indian food any time that I want and to be able to easily walk to my friend's homes in just a few minutes. What on earth am I gonna do without the cheap movie theaters? Or the abundance of fruits and veggies at the stand up our street? My heart aches when I think of not being able to pass and wave at the precious guard and the fat dog near our house.

I will never forget you, India. Because you have left your mark on me forever. Every time I smell the rot of trash or the spice of curry tickles my nose, I am confident that my mind will take me back to you. And I am sure that if I stumble upon a bag of Parly G's or Cabdburry Dairy Milk Silk I will jump up and down with glee. I will continue to use curd (low-fat plain yogurt) in all of my cooking thanks to you, and I will pile hot sauce on American food that I am sure will not be spicy enough for me. And I have no doubt that I will bobble my head sometimes or call a cookie a "biscuit" or an apartment a "flat" because that's just my habit now. You have strongly influenced who I am and who I am becoming, and I am thankful.

India, the hardest part of leaving you is knowing that millions and billions of your people are without the Savior. You have a hardened heart, and your ways are so wicked. The Lord hates the wickedness in your streets, and He has sent messenger after messenger to warn you to repent before it is too late. So I commit to pray for you, India that you will repent and turn to Jesus. I pray that the believers in your borders will be bold proclaimers of the Gospel and that the seeds that so many have sown for years before me and will continue to sow the years after me will produce a great and plentiful harvest. God is faithful, and you cannot thwart His ways.

For His Name's Sake,

Maddie

Asha

When I lived in the States and heard horror stories about girls in India and other parts of the world being sex trafficked, sold as slaves, being forced into child marriages, offered as child sacrifices, raped, abused and the list goes on and on unfortunately, yes, it always made me sad and broke my heart. But it's completely different putting a face to these stories. And when you have a relationship with one of these girls, it's a rock your world and your faith kind of situation.

Let me introduce you to one of my sweet friends. Her name is Asha, and she is 14 years old. Last May, Asha was forced to marry a boy a few years her elder from her village near Bangalore, India. Although it is against the law in India for a child to be married before the age of 18, around 47% of girls are married before 18, and 18% are married before the age of 15 according to the United Nations Children's Fund. Unfortunately, Asha was apart of the 15%, and her life will be forever different because of it. We fought to stop the marriage, but because of corruption in the government and police and having our hands tied because of our foreign status, there was nothing else we could do. I hate to say this, but there were moments I wanted to either talk her into running away or steal her and adopt her.

One thing you need to know. In India, the bride moves into her husband's family's house. This means that she lives with her husband, mother-in-law, father-in-law, and many other family members. Often, the new bride is forced to become a slave of the mother-in-law. This doesn't always occur, but often, it does. And this is what happened to Asha. After her marriage, she moved in with her husband and his family. What has been a huge problem for Asha is that she follows Jesus and her husband and his family are all devout Hindus. I asked Asha if her husband allows her to pray or read her Bible, and she told me that he does not allow her to.

And now, my sweet friend is pregnant and due in February. That means that shortly after her 15th birthday she will give birth to a baby. I asked Asha how she felt about the baby. I asked if she was sad, happy or both. This is what she said, "I am sad. All my friends are playing, and I can't play because I have this baby." Because, y'all, she is a kid. She is a kid having a baby. It's just wrong. It's an injustice.

What makes things complicated too is that her body is not prepared to have a baby. She is very, very tiny and most girls her age have bodies that are not developed enough to handle giving birth.  Her family thought about letting her just have the baby in the tent she lives in, but thankfully, they realized that she needs to have a baby in a hospital. The issue is that they don't have a lot of money to pay for a good hospital, and in India, you pay for what you get. I am trusting that the Lord will provide for this precious girl and her baby, but it's hard to watch a friend suffer in ways that I will never, ever understand.

So friends, will you pray for this girl? Will you lift her to the Father, to the only One who can truly help her? Will you ask the Father to save her family and to protect her from the evils of abuse?

For His Name's Sake,

Maddie

Arranged Marriage Re-arranged

Weddings in India are unlike any other. Granted, the only other experience I have to compare them to are weddings in America, and let's just say it's a totally different ballgame. When you picture weddings in America, you picture a beautiful white dress, tuxedos, fragrant flowers, twinkling lights, dancing, etc. Indian weddings are more like an explosion of color and smells, the lights aren't quite so twinkly, but far more blinding, and I don't place a sari or burqua in the same category as "dress." Nonetheless, they are quite a fun and exhilarating experience and never leave my stomach empty or my heart unhappy.

My best friend in India invited us to attend a wedding with her for one of her dear friends. She invited us about two weeks ago, and Danae and I had been really looking forward to it. I even ordered a fancy salwaar suit (pictured below) to wear because I was so over attempting to waddle around in my sari. However, a few days ago, our friend informed us that the wedding had been cancelled. Since Danae and I aren't as familiar with the etiquette and traditions of Indian weddings, we didn't think much of the cancellation. We planned to have a normal Monday.

However, about an hour prior to the wedding, our friend called with a different set of news. Apparently the first bride backed out of the already arranged marriage, but no worries, an auntie of the groom had found another bride for the groom to marry! Problem solved. Wedding crisis averted.
Are you kidding me?! Talk about a cultural difference! I was shocked that a wedding could be called off and re-arranged so quickly! Our friend asked if we would still be willing to attend the wedding with her. We of course said we would be glad to, until I realized that I still hadn't picked my salwaar suit up from the tailor. Fortunately, we grabbed it and managed to get all dolled up in time to meet her for the wedding.

Now, when I say wedding in India, I am most likely not talking about the ceremony. Most Indian weddings are multiple days long. They include many traditions and ceremonies that would be completely foreign (literally haha) to most Americans. We have always been invited to the reception part of the wedding where you pretty much sit awkwardly, take lots of even more awkward photos with the bride and groom, and eat some pretty much stinkin awesome food. Who knew mutton could be so good?

And that's pretty much how this one went today. My favorite part is when you stand by the groom or the bride and pose for a picture just to realize that the camera is actually a video camera angled right at you for about 5 minutes. I guess you're just supposed to stand and smile? That's what I did! :)

Here are some pictures we took today to give you more of an idea.

 My salwaar suit!

 The groom and his friend

 The bride

The food! It may look gross, but it's delicious! Ain't nothing like good mutton!

God Bless 'Merica!

So July 4th is coming up soon! And I am beyond excited to celebrate with one of my best friends, Marie Mcdonald! She is traveling all the way from Africa to experience July 4th Indian style. I hope she's ready ;). It's weird to think about where I was a year ago....living in a different city, celebrating my first real holiday away from home. And here I am a year later more thankful than ever that I am an American.

Believe it or not, living overseas has made me even more patriotic. And I think it's because the rest of the world just doesn't do it like America does. I used to easily hate on America and the problems that I saw when I lived there. High taxes, high gas prices, dishonest politicians, and that doesn't even begin to touch the surface.  But living overseas kinda spins America in a different light. It's easier to see the good rather than the bad. It's easier to remember America as land of opportunity and freedom, of choice and independence.

Over the last year-ish, the Lord has taught me a little bit about my patriotism. First of all, I realized how easily America can become an idol in my life. Living in India makes me long for my home. Not because I don't like it here, because I honestly do love my life and work here. But I miss the familiarity of home. I miss the cereal aisle at Publix, Mexican food, the freedom of driving, good ole' southern hospitality, football, my family and friends, and so many things that are familiar, comfortable. But every time my heart starts to dream/long for home, the Father reminds me that my home is heaven. What a beautiful truth. America won't always be around. And not only that, but I probably and Lord-willing won't be living in America for a good chunk of my life. But being with the Lord finally and for eternity, that is truly home. And that's good stuff. I pray that more than anything, I remember that I am ultimately a citizen of heaven and not even a citizen just of earth (Phil 3:20 But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ). And that citizenship comes with a great responsibility.

I live in a place where lostness literally hits me in the face daily.....people completely separated from the Lord on a path to eternal damnation. So while I know I am a citizen of heaven, I am surrounded by thousands (literally, I mean my city has millions of people) who don't know the Lord. But guess what? I didn't need to come to India to be surrounded by lost people. It's in America too. The Lord says that the way is narrow for a reason. It scares me to say that even American churches are filled with people who don't truly know or walk with the Father.

I know that while living in America it's easier to lose sight of the importance of sharing the Gospel. Trust me. I have far to often been guilty of the sin of knowing the good I should do and not doing it. But I was praying and reading this morning, and I was overwhelmed that my people, Americans, are dying and going to hell too. I don't forget about them. So when it comes to July 4th, please celebrate that you are an American. It's an enormous blessing from the Lord that most people worldwide can't even fathom. But please don't forget that your neighbors, family members, and friends don't know the Gospel. And encourage me in seven months when I am back in the States to not forget that either. :)

Hindustani

Living in India is well.....it's different. I am convinced that there is literally no place on this earth like it, so to even describe this land wouldn't do it justice. This country brings out the absolute extremes of my personality. Sometimes, I laugh so hard I cry and most of the time, my smile takes up my whole face. But there are moments when I am just plain angry. I want the beggars to stop touching me. I want the auto driver to simply give me meter. I want to be treated as equally as a man.

But this week has been exceptionally good. So maybe I am on a happy high? Regardless, I wanted to make a list of things about this country that legitimately make my heart happy. I hope this gives you readers insight into my life here.

1. The Sweet Shopkeepers: Danae and I have made friends with this dear Muslim Uncle, and he happens to own a jewelry shop that we like to frequent. Every time we visit him, he gives us the best deals and sincerely seems to enjoy seeing us. And there are others too that treat us so well. It's refreshing.

2. The Produce: mango season, strawberry season, pineapple season.....we love it all! On our street is the best fruit/veggie stand where you can find fresh, yummy produce for super cheap. Normally, for about 4-5$ we can get tomatoes, cucumber, onion, carrots, peppers, mangos, and apples. It's awesome.

3. The Accessories: ok y'all. I own far too many pairs of earrings, bracelets, and scarves. But I can't help it! There are so many pretty things that are just to cheap to pass up! You know all those beautiful scarves from Target (oh how I miss it!) that cost between 15-20$? Ya, I can get them for like 3-5$..... or less. Boom.

4. The Food: ok I will be honest here. There are some things here that I hate! Like basically any Indian sweet (yes, I have secretly thrown away many a "treat" or stowed one in my purse without my host noticing. Judge me). But for the most part, the food is rockin awesome. Nothing is better than walking to my favorite local Indian restaurant called Shanti Sagar and ordering the North Indian Thali for less than 3$.  This is a picture of a Thali plate. It's basically a bunch of curries, rice, and naan. So yummy!

 

 5. The Salons: I am a salon frequenter for sure. Nothing is more relaxing to me than getting a hot oil massage or pedicure. And once again, the prices are so cheap! I really have no idea what I am going to do back in America about my eyebrows. I have gotten so used to getting my eyebrows threaded for 40 cents. I guess it'll be back to plucking! 

6. The People: of course! Some of my best friends live here, and I really can't imagine life without them now. Leaving in 7 months is going to be so difficult. 

There are so many more things that I could list, but why don't you come visit and find out for yourself? :) 

Love Your Neighbor as Yourself

I have been mulling this idea over in my head for a while now, and I decided that it would be better to just try to get it down on paper. So here goes nothing. 

Sometimes, it's legitimately overwhelming to think about the poor in India, in my city, in my neighborhood, let alone the whole world! Daily, it slaps me in the face. I walk outside, and I see beggar women with their babies. Danae and I both struggle with the question: what do we do? Do we simply walk by and pretend not to notice? Do we give money? Do we give food? Do we at least look at them to acknowledge them as a person?

I read the book Kisses from Katie a few months ago. I highly recommend reading it. It's a book about a girl around my age named Katie Davis. She moved to Uganda, permanently lives there, and has adopted 13 little girls. Her ministry is simply a testimony to the Gospel. Her entire ministry is built around the commandment of love your neighbor as you love yourself. She says things like, "If I don't like to be hungry, and my neighbor is hungry, why would I not feed my neighbor?" I can't get that out of my head when I walk by a beggar. I hate being hungry. I hate being hot. I hate being cold. I hate being dirty. So why would I think it's ok for my neighbor to be all of those things? I constantly ask myself, "what would Jesus do?" Jesus obviously did not meet every need He came into contact with, but He sure did care for people. Over and over in the Gospels it says, "and He was moved with compassion." Beautiful. Convicting. 

The other day, I passed two beggar women in my neighborhood. Both of them had their babies. I have met these women before in a ministry I help out with. They asked me for food, and I told them no. To be honest, it is really hard for me to give money to beggars with children because I feel like they are exploiting them, and I figured it was enough to just talk with them and play with their babies. But I had a conversation with a very wise friend of mine the other night, and she informed me that the beggars in my neighborhood live in the slum where she does ministry. These people walk over five miles every day to come and beg in my neighborhood. They bring their children with them because where else are they going to leave them? They live in tents made of tarps. They barely scrape by, living on basically only rice. Their children are malnourished. If they get sick, a lot of times they just die. These people have nothing. I almost burst into tears when I heard this. Here I was being so judgmental of these people, thinking that they were faking it, exploiting their children for money and food they didn't need. How wrong I was.

It's hard in India because there is no quick fix to poverty. We can't just tell these people to go get jobs. No one will hire them because of the caste system. They are literally born beggars and are expected to die beggars. That is their job: to beg. But here is the thing: they are people. People loved by God. God knows the number of hairs on their heads, and He loves them. How many times in Scripture does God talk about remembering the poor and taking care of the poor? It's clearly really important to Him. So that leaves me with a big question: what is my role of taking care of them? It's completely contrary to the heart of the Lord to ignore them. That's not an option as a follower of Christ. 

So I ask you to examine your own hearts with me. James 2 talks so much about not having partiality in the body of Christ and that faith without works is dead. I know that India is way poorer than a lot of countries in the world. But regardless of where you are, there are people with needs. I am not gonna pretend to have the answers to what we should do about poverty. But I do know that all believers in Jesus should have some role in taking care of the poor. So I ask you to pray about it. And when you do pray, please pray for India. Pray that the Gospel would take root here in the hearts of the people and that the caste system would cease to exist. Praise the Lord that one day, we will be apart of a new heaven and a new earth where righteousness dwells, and oh man do I long for that day! 

And we stand for those who cannot stand for themselves
And we love the loveless
And we go where Your light’s not shining
We are the body of Christ

-Mandi Mapes

The only thing consistent is change.....

As I think over my life the past year to year-and-a-half, one thing has stayed consistent.....change. I graduated from UGA in May 2011 and started teaching in a position that I never would have chosen had I had my own way. But of course, the Lord had better plans for my life than I could have ever thought up myself. And while I was teaching, I was presented with the opportunity to go to India for two years. So I left my sweet two-year-old class and shifted my life back home for a few months before leaving for India.

It has almost been exactly one year since I made my final decision to move to this side of the world. A year. It seems like just yesterday in some ways, and then on the other hand, so much has happened  that it almost feels like an eternity ago. In this past year, I have visited three countries outside of the US, my best friend had a baby, my other best friend got engaged, I have lived in two cities in India and have become engrossed in a culture completely different than my own. I have seen and experienced the Father in more ways than I could have ever imagined.

Overall, I feel abundantly thankful. Every morning when I wake up and spend time with the Father, my heart is overwhelmed with gratitude for being here. I love my city. I love the people in this country. I love the sarees and burkas I see outside in my neighborhood every day. I get excited to go and buy groceries down the street and to be able to practice my Hindi with the auto drivers. The taste of good Indian food and chai make my stomach do a happy dance, and the way the women here squeeze my hand to let me know they care about me bless me more than they could ever know.

There are times of homesickness, yes. When I skype with my sister and her kids, and I hear Tucker say "I yuv you Aunt Maddie" it is everything in me to not burst into tears. I hate that I am missing out on two years of their little lives. I hate that I don't even know Whitney's baby, Hudson. It kills me that I am missing Gretchen's wedding. But through the pain of life moving on without me, the Father is ever faithful. He has promised to never leave me and forsake me, and He has promised to use trials to make my faith steadfast. When I am faithless, He remains faithful because He cannot deny Himself. He is good. 

And you know what? I really love my life. It is frustrating beyond belief at times. But it's a full life.....a good life.