November 2012

As we made our way down from  the world’s highest point, we stopped to visit the orphanage but Joanne (78 years) could not manage climbing all the steps, so the children came to the jeep to leave us beautiful flowers. Our departure was dismal but filled with love, until next time my heart was saying.

Another team member from Bangalore was waiting our arrival down in Kathmandu. Bobby, originally from Calcutta personally knew Mother Teresa. Bobby tells the most intriguing stories about Mother; one in particular was when he asked Mother why? and Mother Teresa grabbed his hand and on each finger she said “We do it for Jesus!” Bobby lived a stone throw away from Mother Teresa’s convent and had the privilege of working along side her on a regular basis.  Joanne, our group leader is the fruit of Mother Teresa and our ministry’s prayer manual is filled with Mother’s prayers. Mother Teresa was a good friend to Joanne and visits to India were frequent while Mother was alive. On September 4, 2016, Mother Teresa will be canonized  and our team will be there to witness this historical event.

Nepalese people are hungry for the harvest and this country will produce much needed spiritual fruit. Many other heavy hitter for God’s kingdom are moving mountains in this region as well, like Ruben Rai along with other pastors who work tirelessly to spread the Word of God. They all need financial assistance; the orphanage was completely destroyed by the 7.9 earthquake of 2015 and though no physical casualties reported they had to start anew. I know many of you will be moved by this work of God, you can be part of this great genesis by giving to their needs; please email me for details.

Bobby and his lovely wife Veronica have since moved to Kathmandu to work along side Brian and his wife Ruth. I know that together they will win many souls to Christ, they both have many gifting and in sync they will do a great work for God.

November 14, 2012

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 — less ambient backdrop, more 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.

November 10, 2012

Where the Spirit Moves Freely A Visit to the Slum Church

We had to go off-roading to find this house of worship. Over 1,000 families live in this impoverished community. The most polluted river meanders around their dwelling place; sheets of metal on the roofs are secured with large rocks and old, discarded tires to hold them in place. Nothing could have prepared the eyes for poverty like this. The dust is far thicker because of the unpaved roads — and one can only imagine what happens during monsoon season.

The Slum Church — that is its real name — is very well-maintained, with laminate flooring and ceiling fans. But the most striking thing about the church is its congregants. Fourteen voices filled the choir, and when they began singing “How Great Thou Art” in Nepali, eyes flooded with tears of joy. So Spirit-filled and anointed — these people have little to nothing, yet they are true, humble examples of what it means to be called Christian. We left them with a suitcase full of medicine and were off to our next assignment.

We had to go off roading to find this house of worship; over 1,000 families live in this undesirable community. The most polluted river meanders around their dwelling place; sheets of metal on the roofs secured with large rocks and old discarded tires to keep it in place. I have never witness poverty like this. The dust is much thicker because of the unpaved roads and you can only image what happens during the Monsoon season. The Slum Church (that is the real name) is very well maintained with laminate flooring and ceiling fans but the most interesting thing about the church, the congregants. I counted 14 in the choir and when they started singing “How Great Thou Are” in Nepali my eyes flooded with tears of joy. So spirit filled and  anointed, these people have little to nothing but are true humble examples of what we call Christians. We left them with a suitcase filled with medicine and were off to our next assignment.

The President

An invitation arrived from the President of Nepal — and, believe it or not, there were now 18 of us in the van. Traffic delayed the group by a couple of hours, and the President had been called into an emergency meeting. The Palace was heavily guarded and modest in size, yet the garden made a grand impression — neat rows of colorful flowers standing at attention as if to greet every visitor. The festoon of this floral garden filled the air with the sweet fragrance of fall, its colors of orange, magenta, and gold perfectly matched the Palace.

The Chief Of Police

The group was received by Naraine Koivola, Secretary to the President and Administrator of Foreign Affairs. Mr. Koivola escorted everyone to a private meeting room on the second floor, its ceiling adorned with bright, vibrant orange flowers and what appeared to be real gold. Served Nepali tea and delicate cookies, the group shared stories with this kind gentleman for over an hour. A prayer was offered before leaving — along with a box of See’s Candy for the President. The day continued with yet another divine appointment.

From the Palace to the office of the Chief of Police — Rabindra Pratap Shah was equally cordial, though he too was called into a meeting before the visit could unfold fully. Before excusing himself, he graciously received prayer from the team. God showed great favor that day; on the ride back to the hotel, the group quietly held these encounters close and gave glory to their Creator.