Happy Birthday to me!

Apparently I am 27 years old today. It still feels like I'm in my early twenties. I mean, does anyone really feel their age? I remember being in 7th grade and thinking, "wow, I'm going to be a sophomore in high school some day and I'm going to be so grown up." Who thinks that? I was such a freak.

Anyway, birthdays have never really been my favorite. Having a birthday two days before Christmas, or as I've always liked to call the 23rd of December: Christmas Eve Eve. Having a birthday today sucked growing up because all my friends were out if town on my actual birthday so is have to have my party a week or two before my actual birthday.

The best parties that have been thrown for me were not birthday parties at all, but going away parties. What does that tell you?

Needless to say, I'm sitting here at a bad coffee shop to pass time until the thrift store across the street opens. I still have some Christmas gifts to buy and who knows, perhaps I just might buy myself another Cosby sweater or vintage shoulder-padded blouse because its my birthday.

Pictured below we have my current look, and yes, I am in a public place right now. Next is the bad coffee, then my current thrift sweater which just might be the most normal one I own to date!

Just Breathe.

My oh my, it has been quite a while since I updated this blog. Sorry for all of you who have been checking every day hoping for a post, as if.

Life has been better.
Life has been worse.

Being in Minnesota with my family is pretty awesome.

Being in Minnesota without my husband is pretty much the loneliest.

I found a job at a hotel here in Maple Grove. It is not the best pay, but I'm working almost full-time and it is really easy stuff. I'm basically a janitor. I clean all the common areas at night. Second shift. I spend six to eight hours alone, cleaning. Often not seeing or talking to a human being for hours. It's kind of perfect.

You see, the more I fly back and forth between India and Minnesota, the more withdrawn I am becoming. I prefer alone time or else I follow my mother around the house like Peaches does.

It is quite depressing to be home during this freezing, snowy weather without the one human being you love most. It's quite depressing falling asleep alone every night and waking up alone every morning. I pray that Romel and I will never have to be separated again.

It's all because of money and immigration stuff. I could go back to India tomorrow, but I don't have a plane ticket and the sole purpose of my being here is to pay the lawyer so that we can finally start this process.

Romel is with his family in Nagaland right now experiencing the same things as I am, minus the working part. Getting a job in India without a college degree is pretty pointless because you will literally be paid next to nothing. So, it's up to me to be the bread winner this season of our lives and that is hard for Romel, as the man, to swallow. I don't like it either, but what else can I do?

I feel like I'm not quite trusting God like I should be. I haven't quite let go of this control that I think I have over my life.

All I am asking for is money, but I hate only asking for money. I feel like I only approach the Amazing, Perfect, Magnificent Creator and King with stuff I need and not with anything to offer or give up. I got a lot of stuff to give up but I'm like a child holding onto my little toys so very tightly.

Sigh.

Just some pictures of two cross-cultural lovers.

Help get this handsome devil to Minnesota!

Packing is a Pain

Well now, look at how adorable my husband looks. Taking a little nap while I'm finishing up cleaning and packing. 

I can't believe that I am leaving tomorrow night. I knew this day would come, but never thought it would come so fast. This is my sad face.

Sad because I won't be with my husband for a little over two months. Sad because I won't be able to eat real Indian food for over two months. Sad because I really will miss this place.

As much as I can get frustrated with this country, I friggen' love it. I'm going to miss the simple things and the cheap food. I'll miss the beautiful women and adorable children. I'll miss seeing them playing cricket in the streets. I'll miss old uncles going for walks and laughing with missing teeth. I'll miss all my dear friends that are mostly over here now. My how things have changed in the past four years. My world has completely flip-turned, upside down, as the Fresh Prince once said.

However, things need to be changed once in a while and it's about that time for me to once again walk on U.S. soil and be with my family. Eleven months is a long time to be gone. In fact, I called my dad on the phone the other day and I can't even describe the feeling I got listening to his voice. I haven't heard his voice in too long. Usually I call my mom or skype my mom, not because I don't like my Dad or anything, but my mom's always around and my mom loves to talk. My dad however, is just like me, you call for a purpose, you don't call to just "chat" and when we're on the phone with each other it's short, and full of long pauses. It's like "hi" "how are you?" "that's great, I'm fine" "anything new?" "No? Cool." "well, have a good night." When we are face to face however, we can talk for hours, and it's that I'm looking forward to.

Sometimes I really do feel like my life is in a suitcase. And I just finally got used to living with my husband.

Sure I'd like a Smartphone, but it's not THAT important.

I just found out that J.K. Rowling has a new book out and I have absolutely no money to buy it. Oh the life of a volunteer worker in a third world country! People sometimes are shocked (or as many Indian people from the Northeast say, "socked") when they find out that not only am I a teacher of college students, but I am paying to be here. I am paying money to teach instead of being paid money to teach.

Some people are seriously nervous or apprehensive about "sponsoring" missionaries or people "in the ministry" blah blah blah, but honestly, it's not like they have to just give money to someone on the other side of the world. Sure, that's the best way to support someone like me, but it's not the only way. We have just enough money to barely cover our rent, electricity, gas, and food each month. Literally, there is not much money left over after the necessities are covered, so we don't get to really go see movies, go out to dinner, pay for cable TV, or even really put more than $1 on our pre-paid cell phones once a month. Trust me, $1 goes a long way and we don't usually run out, the only person who ever calls me is my husband anyway. I bet I get 4 phone calls in a week.




Anyway, giving money is not the only way to support a missionary or volunteer worker. You can give them an amazon gift card or itunes gift card. You can send them a care package full of goodies from home that are definitely not available where they are. You can write them an e-mail. You can buy or transfer Skymiles to their account. You can make an appointment to Skype call them. You can pray for them and write down your prayers and send them. You can actually go and visit them where they are working; see what they do every day; get your hands dirty for a week or two. When they come home on hiatus you can buy them coffee, food, a cell phone, books, or anything really. Or, ask them what they really need right now. There are so many things you can do for them that isn't just giving them cash. 

Needless to say, we don't have money to buy music, movies, or books for my kindle as we would like. We can't afford to buy the new iPhone 5 or even an old, used iPhone 3gs. We cannot afford to have "date nights" unless we stay inside and cook what food we already have in the house. We cannot afford to buy that awesome new shirt we saw in Pune on Friday.

We can't afford the things this world classifies as "necessity" and that's totally fine. Sure, it can be depressing when I log into Facebook and see a friend who bought a brand new iPad then a few days later a new snowboard and then a new car or a friend who's going on a vacation, again, across the country or overseas. Seeing people go to concert after concert or constantly uploading photos to instagram which means they must have an iPhone or Droid or some other smartphone. I almost want to delete my facebook account just so that I don't have to see how my "friends" spend their money as I am over here struggling to pay the rent and eat healthy food every day.

The hills near our home. It is quite beautiful here.

Ahh, Pune train station. Busy, smelly, and dirty.

But, this is where I am supposed to be. I know that this is what I am supposed to be doing. Living in India, with my wonderful husband, struggling to get by. I think I would not trade it for anyone else's life. I mean, we get to truly trust in God. We truly have to trust that he will provide everything we need.  We don't have a job to depend on. We don't have family money to depend on. We don't even have ourselves to depend on. We have only God and that's enough. Our lives are not full by the standards of most people on earth, but they are full by the standards of the Kingdom of God and that's enough for me.

Culture Shock, You Really Have No Idea.

It's quite amazing that I can be in Mumbai at one moment and then just 22 hours and 40 minutes later I can be in Minneapolis. I've been on trains across India that took longer than that to reach my destination. I once rode on a train for almost three days. On one train. However, I prefer train travel to plane travel because at least on a train in India I can lay down, and it costs $60 dollars for a three-day train journey. I absolutely cannot sleep on planes. It's impossible. I just can't sleep sitting up. The fact that the seats on an airplane "recline" is yet to be proven true.

Indian people amaze me though. They can sleep in any position. They sleep laying down. They sleep sitting up on the local train or on buses. They sleep crouching against a wall. I'm sure they even sleep standing up sometimes. They can also sleep through any disturbance or noise. I can't fall asleep if there's a ticking clock in my bedroom, but they can sleep through train horns, dogs barking all night, the call to prayer, fire crackers and wedding celebrations that last long into the night, and if they're sleeping while traveling they can even sleep through bumps, turns, talking, and shouting. 

I wish that I had acquired that aspect of being Indian. Sadly, I will have to busy myself with books and the in-flight movie selection to wile away the hours because Lord knows I don't want to talk to anyone and there is no way I'd ever fly first-class and be able to lay down unless God decides to do a miracle.

I remember the first time I came to India, there was no one sitting in the same row as me for the 17 hour flight. It was like I got onto a plane that was actually heaven. I got to lay out over the seats and actually sleep for most of the flight. Unfortunately, these days planes are getting more and more packed. There's not even enough room for all our over-head luggage and we're forced to check our carry-ons at the gate. Fortunately, they usually check them for free since they absolutely need to and that's how I get rid of extra baggage I didn't want to fork over $200 to check when I checked-in. 

I also discovered a way to eat really healthy, fresh food while flying. I am not a fan of airplane food and I'm sure it's not that healthy for you. When I book my tickets I say that I require gluten-free meals because firstly, if you have a special meal you get your food before everyone else, and secondly, in the gluten-free meals you get fresh veggies and fresh fruits and rice cakes and other fresh items without all the carbohydrates. Delicious and healthy! What more could you ask for on a stuffy, 9 hour flight? Would it be weird though to request a gluten-free meal and then drink beer on the flight?

As much as I hate flying, I have become quite good at it as the years go by. I am now able to get onto the flight with little to no carry-on luggage and have not had an overweight suitcase in years. 

The first most shocking thing for me flying to the U.S. after being in India is seeing all the white people. At least in Amsterdam there will be a lot of white people, but they won't be speaking English necessarily. It's when I land in Minneapolis that I almost start weeping. I almost weep because I can finally understand what everyone is saying around me. I almost weep because I see Starbucks and Caribou Coffee (not that I like Caribou, but it's familiar). I almost weep because things are in U.S. dollars again and too expensive. I almost weep because everyone has an iPhone or iPad or other hundreds of gadgets they're carrying around the airport and know that if they sold them I could pay rent for two months. I almost weep because I feel so out of place yet it feels so familiar.

The last time I was in Minnesota was in November of last year and so this is the longest I've ever been away from "home." I am curious to see if I will encounter more culture shock this time than ever before.

These are all the things I have to look forward to in a few weeks when I again make the trip from India to the United States. 

School's Back and Flying is Hard

Now that the school has started I will have less time to write in this blog. I hope that is okay with most of you. Between the newsletters, blog, the new school, teaching, writing a newsletter for the school, meeting with staff and students, and eating, sleeping, and spending time with my husband...I literally have no time to update this thing. But I will try my best!

The rains have finally stopped here in Lonavala. I am finally able to hang my freshly washed clothes outside to dry in the sun. It's a great feeling. I wish that I could take down all the walls in my house to just let the insides dry out as well.

I finished my first four days of teaching here and it was fun. I can say that being the first teacher the students see for the nine month course is actually a blessing. It helped me get to know the students quicker than I would have if I sat in the back of the classroom. I am not an incredibly social person and so purposefully approaching people I barely know to have "small talk" is not my cup of tea. However, as a teacher, I need to interact with them; get to know them so that I can teach them better.

My days are busy. I think we can all agree to that.

Dear friend's birthday party!

The work will never stop now that it's started.

The new students, playing a game of sorts. 

My two window guardians. They protect me from moths and other large, flying insects that try to get into my house.

This winter is going to be a little sad yet good. I will be flying home at the end of this month and my husband will also be traveling home at the end of next month. This only means one thing: we will spend our first Christmas as a married couple apart. I will be in Minnesota and he will be in Nagaland. It's not ideal, but it has to happen. This will hopefully be a kickstart his visa process during our apartness. Apparently, "apartness" is an actual word because my computer did not correct my spelling.

I just got my plane ticket home yesterday. This brought me to realize something I never was able to admit before; something that has been steadily growing as the years go by; something I wish didn't exist but can't help to be sure it does.

I am afraid of flying. 

Perhaps it's not the flying I'm afraid of, but death. I am not sure where this debilitating fear came from, but it's there and it's terrifying. I'm becoming a super-hypocondriac and am very quick to jump to the worst conclusions in most situations. I'm not sure where this started happening and how I've been feeding this fire, but it's been steadily getting worse and worse since I first came to India. I'm not even sure how to begin the healing or restoration process.

Finances are the least of my worried thoughts that clutter my mind. I think maybe this is what I was supposed to discover after hearing that God wants to give me some sort of freedom. I was not sure what I needed freedom from. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to let go of in order to receive this freedom, but now I can be sure that I must let go of my fear of...well, everything. I don't know how to do that though. But, I suppose acknowledging the problem is the first step after all, right?

On that happy little note, I really must say how excited I am to be back in Minnesota. I cannot wait to be there in the cold of November and December. I miss being cold. I've been hot, sweaty, and sticky for so long that I forget what it's like to be cold and dry; to be able to wear sweaters every moment of every day never getting that stickiness on my neck from sweat; to be able to drink chai without getting over-heated; to be able to wear closed-toed shoes again. Yes, I miss the cold. I think that I am not made for heat. I regret ever complaining of it being too hot during Minnesota summers. Now I laugh at my old self who complained of  "heat waves" or some nonsense like that.

So, if I can just distract myself by re-reading the first five books of George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series (a.k.a. the Game of Thrones books) on the plane. Then, before I know it I'll be home again. In the cold, riding in my Mom's car to the only home that I knew for the first 23 years of my life.

Happiness, There's Nothin' Better

This is what happens when two people who rarely receive packages receive a package. 

Let me just clarify that one of the greatest and best encouragements you can ever give a missionary is sending them a package. It does not even have to be big and if you send it through the USPS it's not too expensive. hint. hint. wink. smile.

Here we have my strong husband who surprised me by bringing home our package and a giant bag of vegetables.

This is me saying, "yesssss" as I see he brought home the goods and our package finally arrived.

Here I am trying to hurry him along to open up this bad boy.

And we have reached the jackpot. Boxers for my Dharling. I had to explain who the Pillsbury Dough Boy was. You try doing it and let me know how it goes.

The greatness that was enclosed.

Just look at how happy I am for good coffee. If you know anything about Indian coffee you'll know it's awful and worthless and so you probably feel really happy for me and Romel right now knowing we finally get to enjoy good coffee.

My favorite candy bars of all time! Oh life is too sweet right now, literally, I've been eating candy all day.

Look at my home! Postcards with pictures of Loons and lakes and other Minnesota things. Ahhhhhhh.

Then of course, I had to actually make some jello (which was included in the package) for my husband who has never seen or tasted or heard of Jello in his life. 

All in all, it was a good haul. Seriously.

Thank you goes out to my wonderful brother Sean and his wife Penny for sending us this awesome stuff that makes me miss home a little less. I also get to share some of my favorite things with my husband even though he can't come experience them for himself yet.

Items that were included:

Bubble Gum - chocolate chip mint ice cream and orange dreamsicle flavor!

Swedish Fish! No need for explanation.

Gummy bears

Gummy worms

100 Grand Bars

Boxers

Starbucks Medium roast coffee babiessssss!

Minnesota postcards.

Minnesota Vikings family window decals

Jello Gelatin and Jello pudding

Jelly Belly jelly beans! I will say it was fun having Romel taste the weird, yet surprisingly accurate flavors. I.e. buttered popcorn. If only I had the Harry Potter Jelly Bellies. 

A deluxe roadmap of Minnesota

I'm sure there are a few I'm forgetting, but you get the general idea of awesomeness.

So there you have it, an easy, cheap, and perfect way to encourage and uplift anyone living overseas. I've spent more time away from Minnesota in the past three years than ever in my life. I love India, but you start to miss simple, little things like Jello pudding and swedish fish. 

Studies, Cylinders, and a Song

It's September. Can you even believe it?

In a mere three weeks the next School of Biblical Studies (SBS) is going to start and I am the lucky lady who gets to teach for the first three days of the school! I am the one who will set the standards for how this school will be. I will be teaching the students the basics and foundation to their entire nine-months of Bible study. Talk about a heavy load! Good thing it really isn't about me at all. God will speak through me. God will use me. He will help the students understand and there is nothing at all to be worried about...except for my procrastination. I am very good at that.

As you can see, the preparations have already begun. 

And so here we go again. After the last SBS I staffed fully I told myself and others around me I'd never staff another one, but it seems as though every time I say "never" it always ends up happening. I said I'd never go to India, but I did and then I said I'd never marry an Indian. I did that too. I said I'd never teach and here I am, teacher extraordinaire. Maybe I should take this time to say, "I'll never have a million dollars, I'll never have an iPad, and I'll never be skinny." 

In India people use gas cylinders, much like propane tanks you buy and re-fill for your grills at home. We keep replacing them when the gas runs out and as usually happens for me, my gas runs out and I go a few days without gas since it takes them twice as long as they say to deliver a new one to my door. It's quite frustrating because then I can't cook really and I can't make chai (which is the most frustrating thing of all!). So, today I have to figure out how I can re-heat the Indo-Chinese leftovers in our convectional oven. Ah the joys of living in India. I could write a book. Perhaps I will one day. If only I could make some pancakes. It's like my comfort food here. Whenever I miss home I can just whip up some pancakes but not today my friends. Not today.

My world-famous apple pancakes.

I received an e-mail today stating that my "home" church, if you could call it that, is going to give me half the money I need for my plane ticket home in November! Praise God! Things always work out when you put your trust in Him. For reals. So, now I just need $600 more dollars and I can book my ticket home. That's pretty close to nothing at all! 

I recently wrote a song about this strange place I now call "home" which is India. It's quite rough and I actually wrote it on the piano so it seems a little weird on the guitar, but bear with me okay? It has been a flipping long time since I played the guitar I am ashamed to admit.

Here are the lyrics in case you can't understand what I'm saying, and also, disregard the very beginning where it sounds like I tried to do a remix of myself, it's just what my laptop does randomly in every video I record at certain times. 

When I set foot in this place for the first time

I had no clue what you would do to me

You changed my eyes, you changed my mind

about you

You took my comfort, you stole my smile

for a while

But then you grew, you grew so quickly on me

Next thing I knew, you became a permanent part of my heart

You made me feel love, you made me see pain

in a new way

You gave me a home, so far away

from the old one

Oh India, my sweet India

I could just scream sometimes when I see the real you

I'd like to run away, but I think I'll stay hopeful

You're not always kind, you don't always help

your people

The rich are getting richer, the poor are getting poorer

underneath you

Cooking and Quiet Times

I'm becoming quite the Indian cook if I do say so. See for yourself in the pictures below:

Yeah, I made this, it's potato masala for dosas but I can't make dosa batter yet so I ate it with poori which I also made myself. I love making Indian food with all the seeds and whole spices and leaves and sticks and stuff. Seriously, they use the most raw ingredients and that's what makes their food so good.

My husband tells me I make the best pooris in the world. This is the finished product. Fortunately my four pooris were perfect bubbles, but all five I made for my husband did not work out so well and were flat, but still delicious.

Over the past 29 days (I know cause I started on the 1st of this month) I have woken up and spent some quiet time reading and meditating and writing. Sipping my chai (which I have also mastered recently) and spending some time alone and with my Creator. My days have been more peaceful and I feel more accomplished when I know I've actually spent some down time each day.

Doesn't that look flipping delicious? It tastes like that too.

On Monday my husband and I started an intense exercise regimen. It's just another step in the direction for me to improve my self-control and self-motivation. I hope that we can both stick to it for the full 60 days it requires. 

And that's that my friends, nothing much, just gloating over my cool Indian cooking styles. Perhaps I should start putting step-by-step recipes here.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

In Minnesota, I never ever really got to know my neighbors. It's in our nature to keep to ourselves, and even though we've lived next to each other for years and years I still might not know their names. How pathetic is that? Now I have an excuse, I haven't really been home for the past three years.

Now I have a new home in a small city in Western India. You can't really avoid your neighbors here. They're always around and love to talk. I've been certainly blessed with neighbors who mostly speak English and I'm sure they're also more apt to get to know me because I'm the foreigner living next-door. Little do they know, I'm the one who's blessed when I get to know about them more. I find myself thinking about them often. It's very different in America. Not just culturally, but let me try to illustrate it for you:

My land-lady and her two sons live above us. They are strong Catholics. The neighbors on one side are Hindus and a big family that lives in a small shack on the property of a bigger house. I believe they are caretakers of the property while the owners live mostly in Mumbai or Pune. They do not speak English so I have not gotten to know them so much, but I love their daughter. She's about 14 maybe, her name is Pooja and she does not really speak English, but we always say hello to each other when we see each other. Her father comes home every night at exactly 11:00. The reason I know this is because at eleven o'clock every night I hear a bicycle bell ring twice as it enters their house.

This is my land-lady, one of her sons and her brother with us at the wedding!

The neighbors on the other side of me are Jehovah's Witnesses. We call them Aunty and Uncle. I only actually know Uncle's real name, but it doesn't matter because they're simply Aunty and Uncle. They have a little shop that sells cookies, milk, eggs, chips, and other necessary things like laundry powder and toothpaste. I know them the best of all my neighbors. I often stop over and drink some chai and chat with them. I tell them when I'm preparing for and teaching different books of the Bible and wish I could go to their meetings once in a while just to see what it's like, but unfortunately they only hold their meetings in Hindi. I see Uncle always studying his Bible and last night came up to the shop as him and Aunty were just finishing up a prayer. They are really two great and wonderful people.

This is Aunty and Uncle's shop, they let us take our engagement photos in and around it.

The people that live just on the other side of Aunty and Uncle are Muslims. Yes, I know, I live in quite the "diverse" neighborhood, it's true. They speak English also and I've only actually talked to them once when the dad of the family told me his daughter's name is also Sarah even though I had no idea how he knew my name was Sarah. Then I remembered I live in India and gossip travels like wildfire.

This is Sarah.

My desire is to get a nice camera while I'm home this winter and come back and take so many pictures of my wonderful neighbors in the hopes to be invited into their lives a little more. The best way to open doors here is with a camera in your hand. You can take pictures of anyone, but if you print them out and actually give them to them you're like some super special being to them. I've been feeling like I'm almost becoming a hermit over the past few months. I rarely leave the house. I remember when I used to go into town almost every day, but now it's been probably more than a month since I went into town! Yikes.

Jesus never tells his disciples that the people would know they are his disciples because of their doctrine or theology. He never says that his disciples would be known for their many denominations and differences and beliefs. But that is what his disciples are known for today it seems. Hatred, differences, disunity, disagreements, money, money, and more money. Jesus said that the world would know his followers by the love they have for one another (John 13:34-35). If I can be known as the girl who loves, that's enough in my book. I just want to love people, and that's it. 

Inspiration In the Midst of Discouragement.

I've been reading biographies about Indian missionaries from long ago. It's about time I learned something about the history of Christianity in this country of mine. I first read a book about a woman named Ida Scudder who was American but born and raised in South India because her parents were missionaries and she always said she'd never follow in their footsteps yet she started the first women's doctor colleges in India and did a lot for the sick women and children of India. Then there was this guy named Sundar Singh who had a crazy life story. He was disowned by his Sikh family because he converted to follow Jesus and ended up walking from village to village in North India and Tibet for many years with nothing but his robe, a blanket, and a copy of the New Testament.

Dr. Ida Scudder

just a little glimpse at the beginning of Sundar's ministry.

These two life stories really inspired me and encouraged me to really seek God's will for my time in India. Sure, I'm staffing the SBS and it's awesome and takes a lot of time and many of these students go home or go out with real truth on their lips. However, I am beginning to see an importance of also getting to know and loving the local people here.

A few challenges have arisen as of late. One being our electricity bill seems to keep getting higher and higher which can't possibly be possible. We are not using any more electricity than usual and I heard they raised the prices for electricity but that should not double our bill every month! Two months ago it was one thing, then last month it was double, and now this month it was double the last one! It's just not possible.

But in the midst of all that God is of course saying, "trust me."

Easier said than done.

I also need a plane ticket to go home in November which I know will be provided somehow, but right now looking at it it's easy to get discouraged. Not to mention all of Romel's immigration stuff is coming up and even I have to apply for a different Indian visa and change my name on all my stuff when I go home. All these things take a lot of time, energy, and of course money.

But in the midst of all these thoughts God is of course saying, "seriously, trust me."

While I'm home I'll be hoping to find a full-time temp job asap so that I can make money to pay for visas and more plane tickets and things we really need like external hard-drives and sheets.

It isn't easy living this sort of life, but if I lived comfortably in the U.S. with a full-time job and a car and enough money to pay for insurance and rent and even entertainment then my faith would be very small. I would have no need to depend on God for anything. Here I am given a great and difficult opportunity to truly put all my trust in Him because really, there's no other option but also, there's no other person or being I'd want to put all my trust in.

Those two very different Indian missionaries got everything they needed. Sadhu Sundar Singh never really needed anything or asked for anything yet God brought him food, shelter, and he even went to Europe and England twice and the U.S. once! Dr. Ida Scudder needed millions of dollars to start hospitals and schools in India and God provided everything. I only need a couple thousand dollars, how puny does that look in comparison?

Also, if I never came to India I wouldn't be married to an incredibly attractive dark-skinned, brown eyed man and I wouldn't get to see this beautiful country when I leave my house.

The man himself.