At the Edge of the World: Reflections From the Nepal-Tibet Border
The Nepalese people are hungry — and that hunger is not only for bread. This nation is ready for a great spiritual harvest, and the fruit it will bear is already becoming visible to those with eyes to see. With every obstacle thrown their way, their resilience will stand the test of time.
Others are already at work in this region — faithful, tireless servants of the Kingdom. Among them is Ruben Rai, along with fellow pastors who pour themselves out day after day spreading the Word of God across Nepal. They carry the work. They need the support.
Another Day Another Church
Our driver arrived to pick us up in a midsize van — seating for perhaps eight. We were eleven.
Through some miracle, there was room for all of us: eleven team members plus Brian, our host pastor; Simon, the interpreter; the driver; and two of his friends. Sixteen souls in a van built for eight. The math made no sense. Neither does most of what God does.
Turning around to see how we all fit was not an option — my arms were locked firmly against my roommate. We were the world’s most cheerful can of sardines.
The window seat was both a blessing and a curse. The view was glorious. The range of motion was not. Arms pinned like a T-Rex, the task of capturing the moment — on my own iPhone, then on everyone else’s device — became something between an act of service and a feat of endurance.
A City Veiled in Powder
As the van pressed through the streets of Kathmandu, the dust rose thick with the movement of every vehicle around us — a constant, swirling cloud of powdery haze that swallowed the city whole, my lungs ached.
The infrastructure was something of a mystery. Every road appeared to be one way — until a bus full of passengers came barreling toward you head-on. Logic gave way to instinct. Instinct gave way to prayer.
To add to the beautiful mayhem, hundreds of thousands of motorbikes wove through every gap, every corner, every impossible space. They did not wait for openings. They created them.
The Bravest Man on the Street
Stop signs were few. Traffic signals fewer still. And yet, amid the chaos, one figure stood his ground — a lone police officer, arms extended, attempting to bring order to the beautiful storm. The thought arrived quietly and without irony: what a dangerous occupation.
Many times the urge to scream rose up — and more than once, it was answered not with noise, but with closed eyes and a quiet prayer. Sometimes that is the only navigation available.
The Church
After a ride through the beautiful chaos of Kathmandu, the van finally delivered us to one of the churches. Up the steps, into the upper meeting room — and the air was thick with the warm smell of curry and the quiet hush of expectation.
The converts who gathered were eager — some of them having traveled for days on foot just to be present. That kind of hunger is not manufactured. It is given.
For over four hours, praise rose to the Lord. These beautiful people listened with deep attention — taking notes, receiving, growing — each one at their own pace, each one being drawn deeper into the mystery of a God who had found them in the most unlikely of places.
The Cost of the Cross in Nepal
Nepal is a country where 80% of the population is Hindu and most of the remainder Buddhist. To accept Christ as Savior in this context is not a private decision — it is a public rupture. It begins, most often, with being cast out by one’s own family. These precious, gentle people paid that price willingly.
Seeds Planted Before the Storm
None of us knew then what was coming. In April 2015, a 7.9 magnitude earthquake would tear through Nepal, and these same people — these same gentle, steadfast souls — would be among those who had to endure it. What was spoken in that upper room was not wasted. It became, in ways no one planned, a small part of what held them together.
A Road Shared With All Creation
The streets of Kathmandu belong to everyone — and everything. Stray dogs wandered with quiet authority. Chickens darted between wheels and feet. And moving through it all, unhurried and untouchable, the cows — sacred in the Hindu tradition, treated as demi-gods, owning the road with a serenity no human driver could match.
The Mountains That Watch
And above it all, surrounding the valley on every side, the Himalayas. Ominous. Silent. Ancient. For a group of wide-eyed Americans, there were no adequate words — only the instinct to stop, look up, and feel very small in this part of the world.
The day ended quietly. Back at the hotel, we returned to the small comfort of our rooms. A cup of soup. Four walls. The stomach still negotiating a peace treaty with the native flavors. Sometimes the holiest response to an overwhelming day is simply to rest.
Tibet Border
Two jeeps were needed to transport our group on a five-hour journey to the Tibet border for a three-day excursion into the Himalayan Mountains, where we would minister to more than 25 pastors and their families. We paid drivers to take us up one way and trusted God that vehicles and drivers would be available for the return — no Hertz reservations, just faith.
Our driver spoke no English, and though he was a seasoned coachman, he thought nothing of passing buses on dangerous curves — buses packed with passengers, goats, and chickens, every inch of space used, including the roof-mounted luggage racks carrying additional travelers. Along the way, we passed countless natural waterfalls, rushing rivers, and clusters of homes built just feet from the main road.
Zero Star Hotel
Brian, our host pastor, had informed us that we would be staying in a Zero Star Hotel. My first thought: kind of like camping? Once we arrived and settled in, Brian was proven right — no towels, no toilet paper, a bucket-flush latrine, windows without screens, and — best of all — a padlock on the outside of our door. We were also provided one pair of communal flip-flops to share, a concession to the perpetually wet bathroom floors. As night fell, the temperature dropped sharply; we slept in turtlenecks and pulled our heavy coats over us as extra blankets.
The Bhotekoshi River, which had been a steady companion by day, shifted its tune after dark — sounding more like air conditioner in desperate need of repair. But the morning more than made up for it. Perfectly pitched birdsong, accompanied by what can only be described as nature’s own guitars, serenaded us with melodies that belong on no streaming service — only on God’s playlist.
Joanne, our director, informed us that we would be treating the pastors and their families to every meal. When I asked what that would cost, the answer came without hesitation: “Don’t worry about it — God will provide.” We took up an offering among our own group and covered every meal. It would not be the last lesson in humility on this journey.
A Detour and a Lesson
Before our meetings, my roommate Alida and I decided to take in the scenery. For a small stipend, we visited the Tatopani Hot Springs — walking along the roaring Bhotekoshi River, snapping photos, and losing ourselves in a paradise that awakened nearly every sense. Meanwhile, back at the Zero Star Hotel, the rest of the team was in prayer, preparing for the meetings ahead.
As Alida and I made our way back, I cracked the door open to find the entire group staring at us — wide-eyed and waiting for an explanation. Conviction set in immediately. I apologized for letting worldly distractions pull me away, a stern reprimand followed, and I quietly ordered myself a larger slice of humble pie for lunch.
Unlikely Friendships, Lasting Bonds
It was here that I met people who would become lifelong friends: our interpreter Bigyang, and Pastor Indra and his wife Jyoti Shrestha. Pastor Indra and Jyoti oversee an orphanage in the region and shepherd a local church as well. Bigyang is a pastor who travels village to village carrying the Good News to some of the most remote communities imaginable — and remote is an understatement. On foot, with minimal provisions, he and his team traverse this majestic mountain range with the faithfulness of a postman: rain or shine, they deliver.
Sessions of Grace and a Painful Return
The sessions were powerful — encouragement and faith poured forth in abundance, with each person receiving prayer. These were precious people who wanted us to stay longer. We promised to return soon.
Many living near the Tibet border lost loved ones in the devastating 7.9 earthquake of April 2015. Entire villages were destroyed by boulders and mudslides — and what the great tremor did not annihilate, the Bhotekoshi River returned to finish this past summer. Some of these people have no means to relocate to Kathmandu and continue to bear the consequences of life in a paradoxical paradise.
Among those displaced: Pastor Indra and Jyoti lost both their home and their orphanage, and were forced to move to Kathmandu, where they are still working to rebuild a semblance of normal life.
The road we once traveled is now nearly impassable. It is on foot that these faithful pastors make their way up into the mountains — because God’s work does not wait. The river claimed most of their electrical infrastructure, and generators are now essential for survival. If this stirs something in your heart and you would like to donate, please reach out directly.
These words are written with deep pain for our Christian family in Nepal. The devastation left by the glacial floods and landslides of August 26th is beyond words — the official death toll has climbed to 919, and nearly 4,800 people remain missing. Aid workers have reported that entire settlements were “wiped out.” The scale of suffering defies easy description, and the road to recovery rests ultimately in the hands of a merciful God.
The Catholic Church in Nepal — a small minority of about 10,000 faithful — is committed to aiding all those affected by this disaster. Through prayer and generous support, God will open a path forward for these souls who have given their lives to serving and proclaiming His Word.
As rescue operations continue amid the risk of additional landslides and flooding, aid workers are already flagging a second looming emergency: winter. Displaced families sheltering in high-altitude areas will require thermal gear and winter-proof shelter within weeks.
The need is urgent. The time to act is now. Let us respond as members of one Body in Christ — with our prayers, our resources, and our solidarity — so that our brothers and sisters in Nepal may know they are not forgotten.
I write these words with great pain in my heart for my Christian family in Nepal. The aid that is needed is beyond explanation, with the landslide on August 26th many lives were lost and the recovery is in the hands of God. With our prayers and support God will clear a path for these poor souls to continue their journey serving and spreading the Word of God.
