Yes, I’m borrowing a Brad Paisley song for my title. But the last few days have been filled with those little things in life.
First, onboard the plane from JFK to Dubai, Elaine sat across the aisle with two gentlemen. One was Hindu (and from Duluth, GA) and the other a Muslim currently living in Florida but who was going home to Saudi Arabia to surprise his family. Toward the end of the flight, Elaine had an opportunity to chat with the men and while I cannot do justice to the conversation, just know it was a refreshing, open discussion between people of three different faiths.
What affected me the most of the discussion was when the man from Saudi Arabia asked what my opinion of visiting India had been during my trip two years ago. I thought for a moment and my answer came out—that I was truly humbled. That I had grown up in a society where I could go to a doctor at a moment’s notice for the most part. Today, I have a CVS Minute Clinic at the bottom of the hill of my housing development. I have no fewer than two urgent care centers within 15 minutes of my house as well as the girls’ pediatrician and my own personal doctor. I have friends that are paramedics, nurses, doctors, and more. If I need medical help, it is literally at my fingertips. Two years ago, I served with others to bring medical care to approximately 1,000 men, women, and children—many of whom had never seen a doctor and a goodly number had walked well over an hour to wait in line for who knows how long once they got to the clinics.
I get infuriated if my doctor is more than fifteen minutes behind for my appointment. Though I must admit my patience has increased (for the most part) since my last trip.
But the little moments part that struck me was that Elaine wasn’t supposed to sit next to either of the gentlemen. Their seats were the row in front of her but a woman traveling with her two children were the other passengers in the two rows. Emirates had placed the children on the same row as Elaine and the mom with the two men. Both men volunteered to move back so the children could sit with their mother and Elaine was given the opportunity to share her faith and answer questions while I was reminded just how lucky and blessed I am.
Sunday morning, we attended a worship service at a local church. That was an amazing experience. The item that touched me the most was the responsive reading from the book of Psalms. The leader read one verse and then each, according to his or her own language and according to his or her own natural cadence, read the responding verse. As a result, you heard God’s word revealed in multiple languages and in multiple speeds but with the glorifying of God at its heart. No pomp, no fancy robes, no expensive sound systems and PowerPoint presentations—just pure joy and glory.
The next little moment was Sunday evening when our entire group went to the Precious Children’s International Village. Begun by Dr. Chakko, the village takes in approximately 120 children, boys and girls, and provides them with a safe home, a family, education and Christian training. Some of the children are orphans, some are from homes where their parents cannot provide for them and some come from households where the father is in prison for murdering the mother. They are from several different regions of India and represent the blends of many nationalities.
A few little moments from our short visit with the children—
First, there is a shell of a building next to the main buildings. It appears to be mostly finished but obviously not complete. Dr. Chakko told us that it is to be the new home to 100 girls that they hope to free from the human trafficking industry. They have raised enough to put a roof on the building and next will need to outfit the rooms with bunk beds and other necessities. Back home, I had read about such atrocities, hugged my girls tight hoping and praying that nothing like that could ever happen to them, and thrown up the cursory prayer that it would end but to physically see with my own eyes work being done caused my heart to clench. The children at the home are so precious, so beautiful, so bright and full of joy that you want that environment for all in need.
Second, when we arrived, the children were gathered around the balcony and their windows, watching us. Rebecca got off the bus and waved like some of the others did and got very little response. Angela, our younger daughter who still looks like a little girl, got off the bus and waved and everyone waved back. Needless to say, Rebecca was a little jealous. Later when we were being introduced, Bill said both girls’ ages in their introductions. You could see and feel the ripple go though both the boys and girls when it was announced that Rebecca was only 11. I saw more than one young man straighten up and begin to preen a bit at the idea that she wasn’t older than they were. Rebecca was unimpressed when she learned about this. But, it gave her an opening and when the children were dismissed, both girls found themselves surrounded by their newest and dearest friends, all of whom were vying for their time and attention. And to their credit, both girls jumped right in, laughing, giggling, and just being little girls with these new people. It was amazing to see friendships being built and neither girl wanted to leave the home when the time came.
Rebecca brought some gifts from her Sunday School class and things she had made. She distributed them randomly and they were well received. Rebecca made several of those little crafts you take pegs, put on a form, iron one side, flip and iron the other side. I have no idea what they are called but they are bright and colorful and my iron got more use the week before our trip than it has in years. Anyhow, Rebecca ran out of the do-dads before she ran out of new friends. So, as she got toward the end, she began breaking the pieces into multiple pieces so as many children could have just a little piece of brightly colored plastic. I had a ‘glad heart’ as she did this on her own and hope to remember her kindness and thoughtfulness when those ‘tween moments’ happen (which they have here, just like at home).
Angela is Angela and those of you that know her know exactly what I mean—she’s rarely met a stranger and she’s a live wire, commanding attention wherever we go. She has made a good friend in the doorman/bellhop, all around man, Ombit or Ambit (the Indian people are so soft spoken here that it is sometimes difficult to hear what they have said even with their excellent English). Anyhow, if she is around, his face lights up and when she tripped on the stairs, he was the first one there to help her (he even beat me to her her!) When we returned from dinner, he greeted her with a hug and asked if her leg was better. This is a man who recognized me from two years ago and welcomed me back when I got off the bus our first day here. And now, he will remember her probably even longer.
Monday morning we went on a backwater boat cruise and tossed candy to people along the way and back. It could be an entry unto itself but the ‘little moment’ that struck me most is so completely American, I want to share it in closing. On our walk to the docks, we passed a small store that had cans of soda on display. One was Diet Coke. Several of us got rather excited at the notion that after the cruise, we would stop back and enjoy the diet pause that refreshes. There is only so much bottled water one can take after all (and we have been keeping Aquafina and the other brands in business so far) and apparently India is the land of Pepsi which just isn’t the same. So we bought them out of every cold soda they had (and several warm ones as well), thankful for a little taste of home here in India, grateful for a different drink, and laughing and joking at ourselves but enjoying the blessings nonetheless.
All of the conference meetings are taking place in open air facilities or rooms with no air conditioning. It has been quite warm. 
