the other evening, we bought our tickets and made our reservations for our trip to siliguri, india. when telling family and friends about our plans, the voyage seems so distant, so far away. it seems like it'll take place in the not-so-near future. but now, with only 2 months before our departure date, the idea has now become reality. the excitement has turned to nervousness. oh, yesh, it will go back and forth twix these emotions, with others following, and leading in some cases.

that night, as rin was getting ready for bed, i laid down and started reading one of my surfing* magazines. i came across a story called "of ants and elephants" written by matt beacham. it was about when he and his wife, lily, headed into sri lanka to help rebuild after the tsunami of '06. he wrote about what he saw and did while there. one thing that he wrote was:

"what happens to a people who have nothing and lose everything?"

i have asked myself that many times. i don't think i was the first person to ask that. neither was matt. here is another excerpt from the article:

"in sri lanka, you gather your trash and simply lay it on the road. as i crossed the street, refuse in hand, an elderly man slowly got off his rusty bike and started sifting through the rubbish. this man was finding value in what i had considered waste. we stood there, and i could feel the impassable chasm between our lives. i knew he was my equal, and yet, we lived so unequally. my elephant-sized life suddenly seemed inflated and scandalous and, as i turned and headed back through the gate, it took everything to keep me from breaking down."

too some, this is the closest that they will get to poverty, reading about it in a monthly magazine as they drive their $50,000+ cars through the drive-up coffee shacks around town, thinking to themselves, "that's sad." i look at the humility of mr. beacham as he says:

"i knew he was my equal, and yet, we lived so unequally."

i wonder to myself, am i an ant, trying to do an elephant's job as i begin my journey to india? i know what is waiting for me, and yet, i desire to go. i have witnessed first hand the depravity of man. i have seen the rags that keep the poor warm at night. i have walked on the streets that double as beds for the homeless.

who do i think i am to go and share the love of Christ? i am nobody, but in Christ's eyes, i am whole because he sees me through His blood. in Him. i am made perfect because of His sacrifice on the cross. i know that without Christ, this whole trip is useless. it is no good. He needs to be the main focus and focal point. everything else that is blurry will come together the way that He wills it. i want to be His hands and His feet. To be led by Him. i want to be willing to do the things that He wills for me. to be listening to His still, small voice and go where i am supposed to go.

*vol42no01pgs54-58
theimgaesarefrommytripin'04