Michelle Wegner

Epiphany

I had an epiphany this morning.  It struck me as I was heading down the stairs and I could tell Rob was talking to Rajendran , GCC's Staff member in India, on the phone.  I could tell because he was talking very LOUDLY into the phone.  Plus, after 15 years of marriage, I can pretty much tell who Rob is talking to on the phone by the tone of his voice...weird, huh?

My epiphany happened when I heard him say, "so, what are we doing for the temple prostitutes?  How are we helping them?"

Seriously, how many wives walked down the stairs this morning and heard their husbands say that?

I am so proud of Rob.  He is changing the world.  He has put into action what has burned on his heart for years.  He's a man of his word.  My heart couldn't be more "there" with him.  This really is a team deal, and for now, my job is to hold down the home-front while he's off saving the world.

For today, we're off to the zoo with 100 2nd graders.  I don't know what is more intimidating.  Rescuing temple prostitutes, or funneling the energy of 100 2nd graders?

We'll have to see.

The Loved

Imagine you are very, very old like this woman.  Imagine your whole life, ever since you were a little girl, being treated as an outcast.  Imagine never knowing your Dad is proud of you.  You cause him endless grief because there is no way he can pay the dowry some man will require to marry you some day.  Imagine being ashamed because you were a girl.  You have always felt worthless, helpless, and desperate.  Your own family is starting to nudge you out of their lives because you can't work as hard or long as you used to.  You gave all you and family ever earned working morning to night in a rice field to the gods.  The family gods never gave anything back to you except this life of despair.

Then, imagine a woman coming to your village.  She doesn't wear the markings on her forehead of one who has visited the temple.  She doesn't wear the bindi, the sacred third eye in the middle of her forehead either.  This woman is different.  She smiles when she looks your way as you wash your clothes in the river.  You see her while you are in the market, and she is talking to a group of women.  You step in closer to hear her, and you realize she is talking about Jesus.  A new god.  He loves us?  You have never heard of a god of love. 

The woman visits you in your thatched roof hut.  You have never had any visitors.  You are embarrassed because you have no tea to offer her.  The woman smiles.  She offers you Jesus instead.  You accept him as your God.  No other god has loved you.  You have lost all already.  Suddenly, you feel peace.  You know love, and joy is your surrounding.  Nothing around you has changed except for the invitation of this new God to be your one and only God. 

You choose to be baptized.  You sacrifice your standing in your family and village.  They have begun to cast you out anyway.  No one has loved you like Jesus.  Jesus is worth losing everything for. 

I don't know if that is this particular woman's story or not.  Ryan Devries took this photo the other day at the baptism Rob took part in.  This story is the story of a hundred women I have met and read about in Southern India.  The God of Love is reaching them and surrounding their lives with his joy, power and peace.  To be a part of this story in some small way is one of the greatest honors God could ever give me.

Things as They Are

I stumbled across a rare treasure a few weeks ago.  I briefly mentioned it when I wrote this post about Amy Carmichael.  It is actually a 350 page "letter" to her mission board back at home to report to them about the atrocities looming all around her in Southern India.  It was considered scandalous, outrageous and a gross exaggeration.  Civilized Christians could not believe such things could be happening in that day and age.  People love to read "dirt," thus launching Amy into the public spotlight.  It was written in 1901, and is now out of print. The cheapest volumes on Ebay or Amazon go for $225 right now.  I have been dying to read it for 3 years.  Thanks to someone crazy enough to scan it in page by page, the entire book is available online now. 

The darkness that pervaded in Southern India at the time is shocking to me.  Child brides were common (as young as 8 years old).  Child prostitution was rampant.  Beatings of women and children were as common as a regular argument would be for us today.  Poisoning those who defected from their caste's was also extremely common.  It seemed as though every family kept a bottle of poison in their home "just in case."  A Hindu becomming a Christian was a death sentence to him and his family. 

At one point in Amy's report, she said that someone had done the math.  At the rate Christianity was then growing in Southern India, it would take 20,000 years for the Nation to become a Christian nation.  She didn't believe it then because she knew God's heart for those people, and she knew the power of the Holy Spirit.

Our friend and first International GCC staff member, Rajendran, says that the times when he is feeling tired from the load of ministry, or depressed, he will go and sit on the graves of the missionaries who brought the light of Jesus to India.  He said he goes there to weep and rejoice at the sacrifices they made to bring Christianity to such a Heathen nation.

It was the most surreal experience for me to read this book.  The whole time I was reading it, I felt like God was showing me an eyes open vision of direct answers to Amy's prayers for Southern India 100 years ago.    What a joy and priviledge to be a part of the work God is doing there!

Unga To Inga

The phrase going around right now, "Up There Down Here" simply means what it says in the Lord's prayer, "May it be on Earth as it is in heaven."In India, when they say, "Up there, Down Here", It translates, "Unga to Inga".  I love that! 

From the time I was very small, I remember a photo hanging on my Grandma and Grandpa Blom's kitchen wall.  It was of an old man praying.  The memory of that photo is attached to every memory I have of Grandma's house.  We were a Christian Reformed family.  So Christian Reformed in fact, that we prayed the Lord's Prayer out loud in unison at every meal.  Not only that, but there were times we prayed it after we ate as well.  I could never figure that one out.  Was the food just really good that day, so we said an extra prayer, or were we supposed to do that so we would get the dessert?  These are my first memories of the Lord's Prayer.  Great memories.  When I pray those words I am comforted with memories of family and love and devotion, and that old man on the wall.  I feel a sense of connectedness with the generations gone before me.  The prayer has grown in me over the years.  To see "Your Kingdom come, Your will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven," has become the anthem of my life.  Bringing up There Down Here.  Unga to Inga.  It's what I'm all about.

Amy

Amy Carmichael is dead.  She has been for some time now.  She actually died on January 18, 1951.  She was originally from Ireland and left there to serve the poor and extremely impoverished women and children of Southern India.  She arrived there at a time when child temple prostitution was rampant.  Sex slavery was commonplace.  She published a report for her mission board entitled "Things as they Are" after the first years she was there.  For her day and age, the report was so graphic and the tales so brutal, her mission board sent it back to her and told her she needed to edit out the nasty details and send them back a copy that could be shared in public.  She sent back the same manuscript.

Amy was a founder of an orphanage that rescued children and babies from child prostitution at the temples.  She ran this orphanage for years and years.  One night while she was out on her own, she tripped and fell, breaking her leg.  A simple break.  Everyone thought she would be better in a matter of weeks.  Her leg did not heal.  She did not get better.  She laid bed-ridden for the next 20 years.  There was no Tylenol.  No Advil.  No relief whatsoever for 20 long years. 

I am studying her life right now.  I love to study the lives of those who have gone before me and been successful at keeping their hearts and minds strong through adversity.  I love to study the ways Jesus reached out to them and guided them through their trying circumstances. 

The pain in my own back is persistent at this point.  It goes from mildly annoying to incapacitating on a very random basis.  I think I am getting the treatment I need right now, but it will be a while before I am back to fully functioning.  Amy's books remind me that Jesus is a breath away.  He has not "laid us up", or "cast us aside" in these moments of pain.  He has only relocated us, reassigned us.  The lessons he can teach through pain and adversity make us strong as stone. Focused.  Attentive to His voice...

So many lessons from her life...I can not count them.  I am so thankful for this friend.  I can not wait to meet her some day in Heaven.  I can just see her in her Indian Sari, sitting at a table with a cup of chai for me and her to share.  We'll have a lot to talk about. 

Angie's View of India

Check out my friend Angie's view of India, and some Photos from her various trips to India.  I have known Angie since she was in 8th grade.   I must have been about 21 or 22 at the time. We both have matured quite a bit since then.  Ang has been one of the most laser-focused people I have ever met.  She is going to be a "Missionary Doctor".  She's sold out on the vision of bringing health care to the poorest people on the planet.  I love Angie.  I love her vision.  She makes me smile every time I am with her.

Compassion Revisited

I wrote this post a couple of months back, but I thought it was worth re-sharing.  This story, and many others like it are why I don't mind that Rob travels to India a few times a year.  Well, one time when I was 9 months pregnant and had 2 toddlers to take care of, I minded, but, stories like this one re-cast the vision for me.  I'm sold out for the vision God has given us for India.  I love the Indian brothers and sisters with a passion!

In December, Rob, Maddie and I got to go to India. We were able to take a day trip to visit our Compassion International daughter, Sangeetha. Maddie and Sangeetha were fast friends. They spoke the universal language of all 8 and 9 year old girls. As soon as the adults let them to themselves, they were off exploring Sangeetha's school, meeting her friends, giggling and running around. It was amazing to see the school, and the shelves of folders, each representing one child sponsored through Compassion. Children literally pulled out of the destiny of poverty their parents, grandparents, great grandparents, etc. were forced to endure. The Compassion children are given a great, Christ-centered education, health care, vocational training, food to eat, and clothes to wear.

We were stunned when we were brought up to Sangeetha's apartment. Her mother was there, along with what seemed like 50 others, crammed in a tiny apartment. Her mother's neighbors gladly brought us the only plastic chairs in the whole government subsidized apartment building. We sat and talked with Sangeetha's mother, neighbors and siblings. We were introduced to her 6 year old daughter, who looked to me like she was 3. Her clothes were dirty, her hair was matted, she had a runny nose, and a sick look to her eyes. Sangeetha's mom wasn't in the best shape either. When I hugged her, I noticed she was hot to the touch. Her eyes were red, and she looked very, very tired. Tired, but happy.

After we gave gifts to the family, we headed back down 8 flights of very scary stairs to our taxi. And then came a moment I will never, ever forget. Sangeetha's mom took my hands, looked into my eyes, and said, "Thank you." In that split second, I realized what it must be like for her. To have 4 children, no husband, no job, no food to feed her children, or medicine to help them when they are sick. She was saying "thank you" for saving at least one of her children. For picking up Sangeetha out of a destiny of poverty.

Seriously, My life was forever changed in that one moment. If we could help one family, one girl...what about another, and another, and another? Why not live the rest of my life to figure out ways to end the destiny of poverty to all those I could? It's what I'm all about. Figuring out what I can do, and what I can help my family do, to end the cycle of poverty for as many as we can.

India 3-D

Rob is still in India.  I have been reading his blog of course, as well as Tim Stevens, and his daughter Heather, who is 14 years old.  They each have a different perspective on the whole deal, so reading thoughts from all 3 of them is like India 3-D.  Check out these blogs!  You'll be glad you did.

By the way, the girls found the rest of the dead animal (a white-tailed deer we have concluded) and reconstructed most of it in my back yard.  A pretty freaky site I must say.

Rob's Visit to our Indian Family

It's official. Rob and the team are on their way to India as you are probably reading this. It takes almost 24 hours to travel to Southern India. Last year when Maddie and I were able to go along with Rob, we were both almost in tears by the time we got there because of the two boys seated directly behind us who kicked our seat and laughed and played noisily the entire flight while their mom slept soundly. Rob resorted to grabbing one of their tiny legs at one point and holding it tight till it quit kicking…for a while.

We love India. Our friends in Southern India are truly like family to us. You can read about the amazing work that God is doing via Tim, Rob, or, check out Gene's nifty videos from a trip he went on.

Pray for the team if you think about it this week.

• Safety Traveling
• No illnesses
• Quick adjustment to the killer 10.5 hour time difference
• Pray for all the Mommies that are home with kids that REALLY miss their Daddies. (This is the hardest part for me, dealing with 3 very emotional little girls)

Check back this week as I report things as I hear them from Rob.

Contentment

Rob taught at GCC this weekend about "The Kid that Played 10,000 Sports."  You can watch the service here this week.  The girls and I decided to not only go to the Saturday night service, but show up for the 12pm one as well.  I explained to the girls that before they were born, when Rob taught, I tried to be there every time to show my love and support for him.  The girls were bored, no one was around to play with them, so, we headed out to the last service this morning.

After service, Rob was wiped out, and we headed off for some lunch.  When we got to the restaurant, we were sad to find out it is out of business.  The owner attends GCC, and very sadly told us about the business having to close.  Our hearts broke for her and her husband.  How sad to have your dream crushed.  And on top of that, have creditors and bankers coming after you for all the money you owe them.  They are facing losing their home on top of everything else.  Needless to say, she was very emotional and devastated.  I could sense Maddie's discomfort at the situation. 

When I was in the car alone with her later, I asked her what she thought about the conversation with the restaurant owner.  The first thing she said was, "contentment."  I asked her what she meant by that, and she said that she "thought they were going to be OK.  They've got everything they could possibly need..."  We talked about how awful it is to lose everything you have, but how fortunate we are to live in a country that lets you re-build and start again.  There is food available, stores to work at, etc. 

We brought Maddie with us to India last December.  She was able to see how a girl her own age lives, and I think that has marked her forever.   She saw how Sangeetha's mom did not have a chance.  She could not go find work just anywhere.  There was no work.  There was no opportunity. 

Not only that, but Miss Jen, Miss Elizabeth, and all the other amazing Jungle Room teachers have been teaching about contentment for the past few weeks.

It sunk in with her.  I hope it sticks.  What an amazing lesson for a 9 year old to understand already.

All this bragging is quite possibly sickening, I know.    You need to know that Maddie did come down from her room tonight and demand that she needs a new Leapster because hers is getting old.  We're learning.  We're growing...We're taking steps.  It's just great to see some of what we are teaching her is sticking. 

My Indian Friends

This is me in a village about an hour's train ride from Madras in Chennai, India.  Directly to my left is a woman named Nemmi.  When I met her, her and her husband were planting churches in Chennai.  She gave me the grand tour of all the villages her and her husband were trying to reach for Jesus.  The two days I spent with  my friend Nemmi marked me forever.  She rises every morning at 4am to pray.  She covers her head out of respect for God.  When she and the sisters in Christ I met prayed, I literally felt the presence of God around me so close, I couldn't lift my head because I was afraid I would see God standing there.  Every Christian Nemmi took me to visit had a miraculous story of their conversion.  One woman had been labeled the "village Idiot."  Her family and neighbors thought she was mentally ill...until she met Jesus.  She went from running around naked and half crazed in the village, to a quiet, beautiful, reflective follower of Christ.  Many who knew her gave their livest to Christ because of the transformation they saw His Spirit make in her.  Another friend told me that she was stricken with leprosy.  She was so ill she went in her family's idol room to pray.  She gave all her money to witch doctors to help find a cure for her.  She was distraught at losing everything to them, and all the needless sacrifices to countless gods and goddesses.  She fell asleep in the family prayer room, and when she woke up, there was a shadow of a cross on her wall.  She knew she needed to find someone to show her what this meant.  She went to Nemmi, the only Christian she knew, and Nemmi lead her to the Cross, to knowing Jesus.  Jesus healed my friend of Leprosy.  She is now a fully devoted follower of Christ, leading many to Himself.

Every home I went into had a story to share, as well as an Orange Crush 

I think my stomach had a hole burned into it from all the pop the villagers kept giving me over those two days.  I am eternally greatful to Jesus for allowing me to go to that place to meet these amazing people.