Wednesday, October 31, 2007


I am sure with that headline you were quick to read the email and see what exactly has happened here in Nellore. We have many praises for our days so far.

During the time we were in Machilipatnam we ministered to over 800 children and adults, including a village of "untouchables" where we were also to provide some relief assistance with winter blankets, food staples and clothing for the children (many of whom were naked).

Pastor B (Pastor J's brother) met us at the airport in Chennai (he drove over 5 hours in a CYCLONE) and made our transport to Nellore quiet comfortable. During the three hour trip on Tuesday he explained that Nellore (our destination) had been hit by a "cyclone" and many villages and people were affected. Over 100 people dead and 25,000 displaced. We were shocked that he had braved the storm, to reach us and bring us to his area. He explained the reason we were traveling in a huge bus was it was the only safe vehicle to travel across the water covered roadways.
As we got closer to Nellore we could see evidence of the flood waters everywhere. Many washed out roads and fields totally covered with water. People were sitting on the sides of the roads in front of collapsed huts. Men could even be seen fishing from the road, since the fish have now come down streams. The main roads in Nellore were covered in close to two feet of water. People on motorcycles and the little taxi cars were up to their knees trying to get through the water. It was an amazing and frightening site, as we would look down the side roads to see rivers where there should have been streets. It made us thankful for all that we have in terms of social infrastructure.

There may be many complaints when disasters strike in the US, but what is a person, a family, a child to do when your entire community is no more, and there is no one to help or offer assistance? Pastor B explained that our plans may be changing as many of the villages we were scheduled to visit have been totally cut off and isolated by the flood waters.

As we were driving, his cell phone was ringing constantly. Each time he would say, "this is another Pastor telling what has happened in his village. One of the church roofs has collapsed. There is no assistance for them..." With each ring, we would utter a prayer and wonder "what now, what next?"

We asked about the children at the orphanage, and our program time today. He said, "no problem, all the schools are closed because of the flooding, you can have all the time that you need with them."

Today, the weather has calmed (after the storm) and we made our way to Jane's House Orphanage. The children were waiting for us and were excited to see visitors, especially after 10 days of heavy rains. They loaded on to the bus and we went to the Pastor's house for the program as it has a larger area for the children to be seated. We did our program, had crafts, Polaroids, and special action dance songs from the kids. By the time it was over, they were all happy, smiling, distracted, and interacting with us, showing us all they had created for the day. They set off to walk back to the orphanage with their "goodies" (a fairly short distance) and we packed up to head back to the hotel for lunch.

In a few minutes, one of the little girls came running back to the house accompanied by two of the older boys. We thought she had forgotten something. The Pastor smiled, as the girl handed us to small pieces of candy. "It is her birthday, and we have a tradition to give candies to people when it is the day of celebration.". We smiled, she smiled, and we thanked her and sang "Happy Birthday" to a warm response.

Then the Pastor told us her story. She has only been at the orphanage for 5 months, after they found her (and another girl) abandoned at the train station. We had learned last night - many of the children at the orphanage are "train station" children. Abandon by parents for a variety of reasons, many as young as 1 year old. It seems her father had left her mother, and now was being courted by another man. However, he wanted nothing to do with her children. So the mother took the girls younger brother and crushed his skull on the floor, killing him. When the girl saw this she ran away, and finally landed at the train station where she was rescued by the orphanage workers.


Can you imagine? We certainly couldn't. Even last night as the Pastor was explaining how the children wound up at the orphanage, and he told us these stories, it was hard to imagine how a mother could abandon her own child to a life at a train station where many suffer dismemberment being caught on the train tracks sleeping, or worse. And here in front of us, with a smile across her face for her ninth birthday was a girl whose last image of her own mother was that of her murdering her brother!

The Pastor shook his head saying, "Sisters all of these children have such tragic stories, you can not even imagine."

We cannot imagine the pain, the hurt, the deep wounds this causes in the hearts, souls and minds of these so very young. As we drove through the streets, already a picture of poverty and suffering, covered with flood waters, we could not imagine how things were going to get any better for such a "world".

He can imagine.

This is the reason He sent His Son. This is the reason He sent us here.

As you may remember, this was not our "Plan A". Nellore was added to our itinerary only after we did not receive the paperwork in time to travel to Imphal. We arrived in the aftermath of disaster, reaching and touching those affected in life by disastrous plans of an evil enemy seeking to destroy hope, joy and love.

In the face of such overwhelming disaster, our "program" seems so small. But He showed us today, the smiles on the faces of the children are large. He is singing over us and waving His banner of love. He is also singing happy birthday to a beautiful nine year old girl through some strange light-skinned girls who showed up after the storm.

God bless the intercessors who are providing bullets in the battlefield of India.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Do the Work of an Evangelist

I would be going it alone, so V could try and rest and recuperate enough for the journey to Nellore and flight tomorrow. Loaded with props and tricks, we struck out as the sun began to set across Machilipatnam.

This village was the farthest away from the city and Iknew we would only have a few moments of dusk to conduct the program before the spotlights would go and the invitation to ten thousand bugs would go out.

The Sunday School children shared several songs before I began, but soon enough the program got underway. I wasked the over 100 children gathered in front of me if they had ever seen someone who looked like me (white skinned). They all covered their mouths and laughed while answering, "NO". There were a fair share of village men standing outside the gathered children on the road who would probably say the same thing.

With each "trick" or story, they responded with great clapping and enthusiasm. I presented the Gospel clearly (using a "chage bag") scattering seeds in what appears to be ground ready for a future harvest.

"A sower goes out to sow his seed, some fells by the wayside and the birds came and ate them up. Some fell among the rocks, where there was not much soil, sprouting and then dying because they had no depth. But other fell on good ground and brough fort fruit. Some 100 fold, some 60 fold, and some 30 fold.

Who has ears to hear... " Matthew 13:3-9


DEFINITION: Not fading no matter how many washings

When I got back in the van as our car careened down the dirt road with its consistent honking warning pedestrians, bicyclists and cows to get out of our way, I just had to break into song:

"Oh victory in Jesus, my Saviour forever, He sought me and bought me with His redeeming blood. He loved me err I knew Him and all my love is due Him. He plunged me to victory beneath the cleansing flood."

The song, often referred to as the "Battle Cry of the Baptists.", there was nothing my soul felt more fitting for this Sunday's experiences.
We began the day with worship at the local church and were informed on Saturday, we would be giving the whole message. "ready in season and out", I turned and said to V. She just gave a smirk, followed by a cough, she had acquired somewhere along the way.

"He sent His disciples out two by two."

Our teamwork has been effortless and with familiar ease, V gives the "intro" and then I follow with a trick - back to her and a craft or song - back to me with a story, back to her with the Gospel presentation - the "Hope & Crosby" - "Laurel & Hardy" of "Abbott & Costello" of the rural evangelism circuit. A "straight man" and the proverbial "clown". Hey, what works - works well.

During the service V actually succumbed to her illness and had to cut short her message. AS she went outside for fresh air and ...

several children soon surrounded her - curious, but also sharing in her obvious discomfort and suffering. They were afraid to touch her, but she made for interesting watching.

Inside the church Past J explained how the "New Hope Baptist" was built after the tsunami swept away the previous facility. Now with a much stronger construction, if there was another such calamity, refuge could be sought in the steadfast concrete building.
"A wise man builds his house upon the rocks."

V had temporarily recovered enough after our portion of the program to take a drive along the Bay of Bengal beach. It was a unique experience considering our driver actually took us all the way down to the shoreline and traveled the length of the beach with the water splashing under the tires.

There were various forms of bathing attire - nude children, men clad in a wide array (and lengths of shorts) but all the women had on their saris as the waves washed over the long folded lengths of fabrics and wet the ends of their long braided hair.

We headed back to the hotel so V could rest and Pastor J and R and I went to the restaurant for our daily fare of noodles, butter naan, and water. We shared life stories, visions of great harvests to come and hope for the future. I did have a short rest before leaving for the evening village meeting.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Touched by Untouchables

I don't know the origin of the phrase "a picture is worth a thousand words". Perhaps it was a marketing strategy used by Kodak to popularize the use of cameras as personal gadgets to mark your memories. But whatever the origin, tonight's collection of imagery was falling far short of a thousand.

Pastor J had sent photos of the Yannadi community to us prior to our departure. We had seen the pictures of thatch constructed housing, seen the faces staring at the camera. But those photos combined with ten thousand words could not have begun to adequately describe the reality of the living conditions of India's outcasts.

After a 45 minute drive outside the city, the road narrowed, the cars grew fewer, the number of cattle increased and even the usually crowed streets began to empty. As we drove through miles of rice paddies, an occasional afternoon napper could be seen stretched out on the side of the road. We approached a large industrial complex and came to a halt. Momentarily confused and unsure of what we were doing much less, what we were seeing, Pastor J got out of the car. It was only then when we really looked past the ditch by the side of the road we were about to cross, that the thatch huts came into focus.

Pastor J was trying to find a safe route through the steep, muddy and rutted shoulder that would take our vehicle closer to the village. The Yannadi began to emerge from their huts (mostly young women carrying babies) to see who had crossed the barrier from the world of the "counted" to their unnumbered, unnamed, untouchable dominion.

There was a garbage filled river separating the industrial complex from the village. Their houses sat on the banks, overlooking the only hope for food these people have. Amidst the huts were half-constructed concrete structures sitting oddly unfinished like ghosts of a better life. I asked the Pastor what those houses were there and who had left behind a such a rude, almost comical reminder in a community of temporary housing and temporary life?

He explained the government hires contractors to build houses for the people, but they are always taken advantage of; projects started with the money and hope soon stolen once again. "These people have no voice, there is no one who speaks up for them, or care for them,. That is why I am helping them to show God cares for them."

The women toting various ages of toddlers on their hips walked up to us curiously. Unlike the typical approach with outstretched hand or saddened faces, we were greeted with smiles and almost being "shown off" to their children, like creatures from a distant planet. They were encouraging them to touch us, to smile for our cameras, and when we brought out the "smiley face" balloons, they laughed with us, enjoying the attention we were showing them.

We were touching them, and they were touching us.

After the crowd all held their joyful yellow balloons, an old man came up and motioned for us to follow him back to the village. There was a young man who had been hit by a truck and was needing prayer. We got to the end of the housing and on a cot fashioned from twigs and twine, lay the wounded helpless man. The villagers surrounded us, and each offered a portion of his story. His wife was dead, he has 2 young children, and the doctors put a still rod in his leg held with two screws. At this point he produced the x-ray he had been laying on.

An x-ray is not worth ten thousand words either.

A woman emerged from his hut with a folded piece of paper and spoke quickly to the Pastor. He was explaining to us the villagers wanted us to pray. Vicki asked questions, "if he was in pain, if he had help with his children." She laid her hands on his ash-covered, scarred and damaged leg and prayed to the Great Physician. The God of all comfort, the One true God. Calling on all we know of Him to be true. Asking for mercy.

Amens were echoed in the end. Pastor J returned the folded paper, spoke softly and we all turned to walk away. He explained the paper was his prescription, he had been unable to fill because he did not have the money.

No pain medication, no antibiotics, no voice.

There are not enough words to describe the emptiness and silence as we made our way back to the car. The picture left in our hearts created more than a thousand questions.

Mahatma Gandhi, the great Indian pacifist revolutionary, gave these people their name "Dalit". It means "Children of God". Up until then their position was not "so low" as not to be a named "caste" - their position was non-existent. Even their shadow could pollute a person of higher caste.

As we drove back across the ditch, back to the world of the counted, the touched, and the numbered, the people were still smiling at us. They waved as we left their untouchable world. Vicki turned to me and said, "I just wanted to touch them all. To let them know they CAN be touched, I don't look at them as "untouchable".

Coming from a place where self-worth, self-improvement, and self-help books, messages and classes abound, it is hard to comprehend a life that BY BIRTH proclaims you have NO worth, NO chance for improvement, NO help, for you are a "non-caste", uncounted and invisible "untouchable."


Through the generosity of our ministry supporters we were able to leave funds to purchase 100 high quality blankets for the village before the onset of winter. All of the children will be provided with good quality clothing (many were naked or in rags) Each family will receive a grocery packet containing almost a months worth of food staples (rice,oil, flour) and of course they young man will have his medication provided.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Around the World

"Therefore go ye.."

The road was filled with people (and the usual fair share of farm animals) which was a good indication we had reached our destination. The van was quickly surrounded by the curious and anxious and we struggled to gather our program supplies, backpacks, necessary liters of water and our 36" inflated world!

Usually Pastor J wrangles the globe with a laugh at having the "world in his hands". Since it is the largest item (and most visible) in our arsenal of goods, it gets a good deal of attention. The Pastor of the church ushered us into the building where there were already a few parents cradling their disabled children. The Pastor explained many more were coming, but the difficulty in travel (complicated by distance and disability) was causing some delay.

V and I sat on the floor with the children, talking with them, stroking their disfigured limbs and watching how the mere sensation of being touched made them smile. We engaged the parents in simple conversation, asking the names and ages of their children (a variety of ages and disabilities) and waited as the room slowly began to fill with the infirm, the forgotten, and the rejected. The one thing they all had in common was they were all carried into the church in the arms of their parents.

As in many rural impoverished areas, wheelchairs, or other mobility aids are non-existent. As the children grow older, and heavier, their parents ability to transport them becomes more and more of an issue, an outing that takes a taxi or bus ride is a luxury they can seldom afford.

They were happy to be there, but I am equally sure, they would have been happy to be anywhere. Away from their normal environment, surrounded by others in similar physical prisons, had to be of some comfort. We were 20,000 miles from home in the house of the God of all comfort. We were happy to be there too.

One of the girls (afflicted with cerebral palsy) kept pointing to the globe. The big ball would be great to throw and hit across the room. We watched the world go flying above the heads of the other children, and basked in the joy of her laughter. When V gave the introduction using the source of the young girl's happiness, she laughed out loud, waving her arms waiting to play with these strange strangers.

The program was well received, wide-eyed gasps, at the non-magic "magic" of unequal ropes, caterpillars into butterflies, and a Bible that goes from "blank" to colorful pages, had them intrigues.

As always, the story is what turns their hearts. I know why Jesus always taught in "parables", because the "story" within the story is where lives are changed. I shared the story of the Apple Tree, with it's disappointment and frustration at being different - the looks of emotion registered on the crowd, holding very different and probably disappointment as well.

The end of our story is written by a Creator who is incapable of making a mistake. While the physical form we find our self in may tell a different story - as I shared with this special group - His Word, tells the truth of all human stories, "I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper and you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope."

Twenty thousand miles is pretty good evidence of that.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

"As My Father has Sent Me.."

"... so send I you."
Our schedule here in Machilipatnam is definitely easier paced than some of the journeys we have been sent on. We have a morning performance, lunch break, rest and then off to a local village meeting with a mix of believers and Hindus.

Our first village meeting was a test run of what to expect, what could be accomplished (crafts - yes or no), what could be shared (full Gospel presentation) as well as size of the crowd.

We drove around ten miles out of town, and the farther the road took us, the less road there was. Recent rains had created deep rutted routes in the roads caused predominately by ox carts and bicycles. We dodged dozing cattle, braked occasionally for wild boars running across the road and of course the incessant horn blaring every few seconds to warn any humans crossing our path was still an annoyance but obviously a necessary one.

Even before we stopped the car, we could see our destination. The road was blocked by brightly adorned villagers and children waiting in the drive leading to the church. As they saw our car approach, the children waved, jumped up and down and displayed the 3 foot floral garlands, waiting to be placed around our necks. We exited the bus to cheers and a hail of raining flower petals. The children and women each had fistfuls of loose flowers ready to mark our path like a bridal procession. It was humbling and reminiscent of the verse in 2 Corinthians 2:15:

"For we are unto God a sweet aroma of Christ in them that are saved."

A tent was outside the church hall and over 100 children and many adults quickly seated themselves to listen, to see what these strangers from a strange land had to offer.

There were many smiles, giggles and "ants in the pants" as we waited for the sound system. The church children stood and did "action" songs with abandon until they would look our way, notice our watchfulness ,and then they would dissolve into laughter, hiding shyly behind other front line friends and start again.

When our program finally began (without the sound system) our audience could definitely be qualified as captive. Adults gathered around the perimeter to see what was happening under this tented domain. The laughter was contagious and the joy spreading throughout the village. V shared the Gospel and Pastor J closed with a message of hope in the Living God. We passed out "treats" to the children and kept handing them out until the box of 150 packets was gone. Widows and elderly villagers were also able to partake in the abundance.

At the close, a diminutive elderly woman approached the table with hands folded in prayer, speaking quickly. the Pastor explained she was asking for prayer, which then created a growing crowd behind her, reaching forward all seeking blessings. Pastor J addressed the crowd and told them we would make a "Group" prayer. Pastor R interpreted the utterances of this humble fool for Christ, calling upon the only Name that saves.

The old woman would be interjecting as I prayed, and with each speaking "in the Name of Jesus" she would add her own verbal additions. When we finished, I was curious to what she had been adding, Pastor J responded, "she was speaking in tongues."

V and I exchanged a glance, simultaneously saying, "it is all speaking in tongues to us."

Friday, October 26, 2007

In a Land of Goliaths

...there are plenty of "David's"

Our travel days finally ended and we were eager to begin. Pastor J told us the children of Goodman Orphanage had been praying for our safe journey, knowing we had been on our way since April.

The city of Machilipatnam was not much different than other towns we have seen across India, probably less cars, more bicycles and its fair share of cattle sharing the road with all of the above.

We arrived at the orphanage and were greeted warmly by the children, who were full of anticipation and grins. They laughed at the coloring book, and enjoyed Pastor J's rendition of the wise King, snoring in the garden. After a snack of cookies and tea, V shared the story of David & Goliath. With each question she asked ("Do you know the story of David and Goliath?" "What was different about Goliath?" "What did David do?") the children gave loud, accurate and enthusiastic answers. They even responded correctly (1 Samuel) to where the story could be found in the Bible. We were surprised, there probably aren't too many churched Americans who would respond with such surety.

But in a land with lurking giants of poverty, hunger, homelessness, disease and discrimination, in a small orphan home in Machilipatnam, there are ten children ready to stand firm on the truth of God.

A child can slay the giants scaring the rest of their world away!

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Arise and Shine

...and then some

After arriving at the "Best Western Hotel and Castle" well after midnight - we fell into bed with no bounce, covered our heads and tried to get some much needed rest while laying down - legs unfolded, neck uncocked, and the drone of the airplane engines a distant ringing in our ears.

A warm shower and fresh clothes took us to the breakfast buffet of "curry and curry and curry". I laughed, the "stranger in a strange land syndrome" is wearing on our white skin, blonde hair, blue-eyed bodies, struggling to communicate, "two coffees with milk, and bottled water." For some reason "cream" doesn't mean the same and our accent for "bottle" is always met with strange glances. Now we wait until our next chariot carts us back to the airport to parts even farther East. Vijawada here we come! Machilipatnam on down the road.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

O Brother Where Art Thou?

Tuesday into Wednesday also known as Dallas to Germany and BEYOND!

"Oh Mother!" followed by a chuckle, emitted from the mouth of my youngest son G who had been relegated the duty to take my friend and I to the airport. Three huge bags of varying weights stood upright in my living room. The previous night we exchanged phone calls, "How much is yours weighing in?", "Right now I have one 58lb and a 52lb and a 64lb." My heart uttered a Delbert like voice (from O Brother Where Art Thou):


The two 50 lb international limit is killing those of us who struggle to take in as much as we can get - crafts, games, and supplies that simply can't be purchased at a local store. So G laughed, manipulated all the big bags down the stairs, shook his head, and continuously questioned "What do you have in these bags?"

V's bag stood at a whopping 64lbs - even after she took out the aspirin and extra underwear (not that had to really lighten the load)! Oh well... we had money and were prepared to adopt our best missionary faces pleading to the inner humanitarian hidden under the blue Lufthansa uniform.

I diligently put my request before the King and everyone else, "I am OVERWEIGHT". We got results! They not only did not read the scales, they just set them on the conveyor belt, marked them priority and off they went! No matter what happens in India, the Father and our ultimate luggage handler just put $ in our account to cover what we may need.

We're awake, our plane is making a slow descent from 32,000 feet with an orange horizon beckoning out the window, "Wake up, the world is waiting. Wake up, your Master says, "Good morning", and He is singing.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

On Special Assignment

God has a way through His word – one of comfort and encouragement. This morning I was reading 1 Timothy 1:1…”an apostle on special assignment for Christ, our living hope.” All packed up (over packed and over the limit) I am truly on this special assignment. Taking goods, humanitarian aid, fun crafts and games, that will draw a crowd and when the Name of Jesus is lifted up – the scripture promises He will draw them to Him.

Our biggest hurdle will be our flights inside India where the luggage is limited to ONE 40 pound bag. You do the math (I am too anxious) we have 2 50 pound bags and two bags close to 70 pounds. I’m sure you are thinking WHAT are those girls taking. 90% of it will be left behind at the orphanages and with the pastors and villagers. It is WORTH the expense to get items into the country they do not have the resources or availability to acquire.

We are taking no baggage – this belongs to the KING and He takes responsibility for getting it there. Please remind Him of that. We faithfully try to be good stewards and joyful servants without grumbling. He has faithfully sent us out two-by-two. To God be the glory in all we do!

The two workers are on their way to the fields!

Smiling, sowing and reaping
Bringing in the Sheaves (that one was for the smile on M Raley in Florida’s face!)

Monday, October 22, 2007

One More Thing from a Traveling Clown

This morning my Scipture reading was 2 Thessalonians 3. It is the final chapter of Paul's last recorded message to his friends and "co-laborers" in Thessolanica. The first verse hit a homerun to my heart, this final day in the United States and my comforts and sanctuary of home.

" One more thing, friends: Pray for us. Pray that the Master's Word will simply take off and race through the country to a groundswell of response, just as it did amoung you. And pray that we'll be rescued from these scoundrels who are trying to do us in..."

You can imagine how the last part resonated, caused me to take in a deep breath and realize our protection relies on YOUR participation through prayer! If the apostle Paul felt it necessary send a reminder for intercession - how could I not?

On Friday, the Director of Orphan Ministry at East West " " heard from our contacts in India we did not have the necessary documents completed for travel into Manipur (the cities of Ukhurl and Imphal). The decision was made to go to "Plan B" and travel from Machilipatnam to Nellore and spend three days with Pastor BB and the widows and orphans of his area. We will be conducting similar programs with the children and rural villagers. Still... we cannot question the battlefields we are commanded to go - it is after all a war.

Know this, we are fully committed, "all in", for whatever the days ahead may bring. There is nothing noble being about the business of the Kingdom, there is only obedience. A soldier does not question the battle tactics of his commanding officer. More simply put, the reality of a "servant'" is they cannot choose " where to serve". As slaves, our only response is "yes Lord."

I thought about the time change, and when I return there will be not one clock in my home with the "correct" time. I had to laugh. I am always on "His" time awaiting His orders. Here "WE" go again. It's exciting...

"... one more thing, friends: Pray for us."

Smiling, watching, waiting for the High Commanders orders!

Saturday, October 13, 2007

INDIA - Calendar of Events

USA for Hyderbad INDIA

Arrive Frankfurt, Germany
Flight to Hyderbad, INDIA
Overnight in Hyderbad

Fly from Hyderbad to Vijaywada
Travel by car to Machilipatnam


Goodman Orphanage Village Outreach

Work with 30 Disabled Children
Village Outreach

Fellowship with Local Believers
Village Outreach

Goodman Orphanage Farewell
Travel by car to Vijaywada
Flight to Hyderbad
Overnight in Hyderbad

Flight to Imphal via Calcutta
Travel by car to Ukhrul


Full day program with Village Children

Grace Home Orphanage
Travel by car to Imphal


Full day program with Grace Academy Children

Flight to Calcutta
Overnight in Calcutta

Flight to Bagdogra
Travel by car to Siliguri


Full day program with orphans and school children

Village outreach

Village Outreach

Village Outreach Orphanage Goodbye

Flight to Lucknow via Dehli


Connect with FBC Dallas Team

Fellowship with local believers

FBC Medical Outreach

FBC Medical Outreach

Full day program Blue Haven Orphanage

Full day program Anant Orphanage

Relationship building
FLIGHT TO US via Dehli

Arrive in USA
After months of stateside ministry, mission and recovery, I am finally off again. On October 23 I will be leaving the US for India with the East West International Director of Orphan Ministry ( We will be participating in orphan and village outreaches across the northern and eastern states of India. The attached calendar includes a map of our journeys.

During our 26 day odyssey, we will have the opportunity to minister directly, to over 2000 rural villagers, orphans, school children as well as a special group of 30 children affected by disability. Pastor J in Machilipatnam expressly asked if we would "touch" the untouchable! What a tremendous mission of hope, love and joy.

Join us on this adventure. It is guaranteed to be life-giving, love-affirming, self-sacrificing, and a privilege. There is a great harvest WAITING to be reaped. We remain diligent to do our part, sowing the seeds, reaping a harvest others who have before have tended to as well as plowing the fallow ground of unbelief to make ready for the future "farmers" of the Good News - the Kingdom of God is at HAND!

Take our hands, partnering with us through prayer, financial giving and in Spirit and Truth. We go and we pray you are blessed in the sending.

Smiling still in His uncomparable service