Tuesday, March 12, 2013

The Forgotten Women of India



(Note:  I’ve updated the last blog with photos, so you might want to check it out again.  We still don’t have internet so our posts will be few and far between.)

I was up before dawn on Saturday, the cool of the day, walking and praying on the rooftop.  The eastern sky was rose and gold, with a silver crescent moon high above the horizon.  O Lord God, please bring the people of this town, this land, to You.” 

In a few minutes, the muezzins would be calling and repetitive chants broadcast from the Hindu temples.  The cacophony must grieve God’s heart.  If only His children would see Him, the One True God, as He is!

The sun rose hot and red in the haze, and the day began as young girls swept the porch of the Children’s Home.  Women began straggling in through the gate:  Old grey women in wrinkled cotton saris, some younger ones in their Sunday best, a few with children, and one both young and pregnant.  All were widows, coming to hear Russ speak and receive a new sari from Pastor Johnpaul.  A government official came also, to list their names and report that they had duly received the aid promised to them from the ministry.

God has not forgotten me...
The women, one by one or in small groups, shuffled across the hot dusty compound and sat cross-legged on the porch.  Amazingly, at 11 AM, the town’s power came on again, and overhead fans stirred the air.  Children fidgeted, women murmured.  The spectrum of sari colors rivaled the rainbow—combinations that were sometimes unbelievable, but beautiful against mocha skin and carefully oiled hair.  I took some photos and sat down among them.  Curious looks turned to smiles, and somehow I felt a deep kinship even though I could not speak their language.

Some were my Christian sisters, others curious Hindus, others I think just wanted a new sari.  All were without a husband in a culture that evaluates a woman’s worth and existence in terms of her man.  Some husbands died due to untreated sickness or sudden accidents; some from alcoholism, and some from AIDS; many from sheer old age, leaving a bent and wrinkled widow alone in poverty. 

A few younger widows had been married to significantly older men, acceptable to the girl’s parents because they did not have to pay a costly dowry.  All live under the stigma of karma—which claims it was their own bad luck that caused their husband’s death.  They cannot remarry, and most people in this society shun them, ignore them, forget them.  Superstition creates so much fear and suffering.

Russ Speaking, Brother Isaac Translating
Russ spoke on the love of God, something every heart yearns for—and something a lonely old woman needs desperately.  I watched the attentive eyes in deeply seamed faces, some of which could not see Russ clearly, one who could barely see at all. Today they heard the Gospel of Christ.  O God, open their hearts and understanding, help them to experience Your love and salvation.  Lord Jesus, become Light to them, dispelling the jumble of gods and religions that clog this culture with confusion.”

After Russ concluded his heartfelt message, many came to us for personal prayer.  Frail and grey, weary with life, hoping against hope for some meaning, some touch from God.  As I embraced thin bony shoulders, put my hands on white heads damp with sweat, how could I not feel Christ’s compassion? 

Alice and Her Sisters
          I almost wept when the younger pregnant widow came to me for prayer—the unborn child in her would never know its father.  O Lord, You promised to be the Father of the fatherless, and protector of the widow.  Please bring these souls into Your Kingdom.  May Your Word never return to You void.”

--Alice Sharrock



An Urgent Prayer Request

Pastor Shadrach, Tenali
Pastor Shadrach, whom we have known for ten years, has a serious health problem.  His voice is hoarse and raspy—the doctor urged him to have vocal cord surgery several months ago—but he did not have the money.  It will cost 20,000 rupees or $400 US.  Russ is especially concerned because he went through laryngeal cancer himself in 2002.  Please pray for Pastor Shadrach, and if God moves you to help, please help him through www.aimission.org














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