Water of Life

It’s Thursday morning in America.  A man stumbles into the bathroom half asleep, turns on the sink tap, brushes his teeth without a second thought, then, into the shower, nice and hot and clean.  A great way to start the day—so normal, so taken for granted.

Green Water

On the other side of the world, in Kondevaram Village, darkness is falling.  A woman wearily walks to the village water tap to get yet another pot of water.  Raghava’s day began before dawn, carrying water on her shoulder, two gallons at a time.  Water for laundry, for her family’s bucket showers, for cooking and for washing dishes and cooking pots. Sometimes the government tap dispenses her critical need—usually not.  Water is available about once every three days. 

Between times, things stay dirty and people stay thirsty.  Babies cry in the suffocating heat and dust rises from earthen floors.  Parasites and infections spread from green scummy canals which are the only alternative sources for life’s essential liquid, since rain seldom falls here in the months preceding monsoon.  Women spend almost half of their

difficult lives carrying water.

But today things were different.  A strange man with metal legs and

Well Construction

his grey-haired wife had come to her little mission church last Sunday, and this morning, something was going on behind the building.  Local men had erected a rusty iron tripod and were twisting pipes deep into the ground until sunset.  Raghava wonders about it all, but is too tired to care.  

In America, Thursday night comes, and a woman pushes a button.  Her dishwasher swishes into action, and she loads the last of her laundry into the washing machine before taking a long hot bath--a great way to end the day.  Water from her washers, tub and toilet goes down the drain--maybe 100 gallons of it.  More than an Indian woman could carry in a whole dusty day.

Raghava, on the other hand, has already been to the useless village water tap, only to find it dry and empty.  Friday morning is dawning and she is at a loss, frustrated, worried.  How can she feed her husband before he goes to the ricefields?  How can she wash their sweat-soaked clothing?  How can she bathe the children to keep them cool and halfway clean?  What about last night’s cooking pots, still crusted with food, crawling with ants and roaches—because she had run out of water?  She prays to the Savior she has recently come to know.  Yesu Kristu, please help me!

Pastor Samuel and Russ, Blessing the Well

Matthew 6:8 says: “….your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.”  God has already answered Raghava’s prayer.  An excited neighbor runs to her.  “Come to Grace Mission Church!  They are dedicating the new well this morning!  It is free to everyone!”  

Women and children run to see the new green hand pump.  The man with no legs is praying blessings on the well.  Pastor Samuel and his wife Prashanthi are there.  Women stand waiting with their water pots, and the grey-haired woman is vigorously pumping water into one of the pots.  A bit muddy yet, but it would settle out in a day or so.  Fresh water!  Pure, clean water!  Water all day, every day, just for the carrying!  How wonderful, how convenient!  What a blessing!  The lives of the whole village have been changed.  Deyvuniki stotrum!  Praise God!

Amen!  Thanks to the Lord of the nations--and thanks to those who have given to AIM for

Prashanti, the Pastor's wife, fills Raghava's Waterpot

fresh water wells.  Clean water is the primary health issue in the whole world.  People are constantly sick, and children die--40,000 per day--due to polluted water.  When we have a well constructed, it not only uplifts the whole community’s health standards, it eases the lives of the women and saves those of the children.  Most important, it elevates the standing of the Christian church in the area (AIM does not claim credit for the wells, but associates it with the local church.)  Water, given freely to everyone, regardless of religion or caste, opens doors into the Hindu, Muslim and Buddhist communities for teaching about the true Water of Life, Jesus Christ.

We rejoiced with Raghava (my “Kondevaram sister”) and all the people gathered there, then left.  We arrived Friday afternoon in Visakhapatnam, the third largest city on India’s East Coast.  Tonight we sleep in a ‘real’ hotel—no chimalu (ants) crawling into our bed, no sharing a tiny bathroom with eight other people, perhaps even electric power for more than two hours a day.  However, even in this very modern Best Western, the WiFi is out for now.  A fact of life, fatalistically accepted in India.

We really need a few nights with AC and privacy.  Russ is struggling with a severe case of laryngitis—the result of pushing himself too hard, plus all the infections surrounding us.  Before we left Pithapuram, Russ was weak, exhausted and bedridden for a couple of days.  Pastor Samuel and his daughter Mary Grace took me to a Christian doctor for help, who graciously waived his consultation fee and prescribed Amoxicillin and several other medications. He said in the US, Russ’ laryngitis would not need treatment, but it is crucial here.  Thank the Lord, he is already improving.  Please continue to pray for our health, energy levels and safety as we re-group before heading onward to Orissa and the Eastern Ghat Mountains. 

By the way, we are about halfway through our trip—the most extensive and intensive yet.  And, Pastor Samuel and his family and orphans held a surprise Tenth Anniversary celebration for us before we left.  Yes, we have been coming to India for ten years.  May the Lord continue to be glorified among the many languages (1200), peoples, tribes and nations in this amazing country!

--Alice Sharrock

Bibles and Bugs

Hallelujah!

We are in a little village not far from the Bay of Bengal, seated on a rickety stage under a colorful Indian-style canopy. It is night, and the outdoor Gospel Meeting has just begun.  Drums are throbbing, metal rattles keeping time, and the music rises to a fever pitch.  Three music leaders begin to dance and the stage trembles.  An elderly pastor leaps to the ground, dancing, and the children in the front row join him.  The Lord is being praised tonight, just as when King David danced before the ark of God and raised some eyebrows.  “Hallelujahs” fill the air.

So do the bugs.  An outdoor Gospel Meeting in India means three things:  Ear-demolishing sound booming into the night (distortion and feedback squeals are ignored);

How can they believe
if they have not heard?

cornea-scorching lights; and the thousands of insects they attract.  Tropical bugs of all descriptions swarm to join our meeting.  Clouds of mosquitoes, moths, giant cockroaches and even larger black beetles are dancing above the people.  Some hit the lights and evaporate into a small hissing cloud. 

The fan, focused on Russ and myself, blows bugs and moist bug parts onto our sweaty skin, where they stick.  One active insect gets thrust into my right ear where it squirms and struggles violently.  I jump off the side of the stage and wash it out with my bottled water…

About 200 plastic lawn chairs fill the village square in front of us.  Workers from the rice fields and housewives from the thatch huts slowly fill them.  Some belong to Pastor Samuel’s Grace Mission Church here in Kondevaram, others are curious to hear Russ’ promised testimony, and still others are merely curious about this God that died for people—so different from the pantheon of idols whose shrines and temples dominate this land.  More line the porches and walls around us, listening.

Russ’ preaching acts like a magnet on the crowd; Mary Grace translates; the Word of God reaches ears who have never heard His Truth before.  That is why we are here—partly to encourage the small congregation, mostly to reach the local Hindu population. 

The first night is based on Paul’s Mars Hill sermon, focusing on the One True God Who created

How can they hear unless
someone preaches to them?

all mankind.  The second night, Russ gave his powerful testimony and the faithfulness of God when we are suffering, based on our life verses, Proverbs 3:5, 6.  On the third night, he spoke of the cost of following Jesus, and how it needs to be our first priority (Luke 9:57-62).  Amazingly, all the people listened intently.  Many ears in front of us have never heard Christ and the Gospel explained before. 

We are in enemy territory, but the Word of God will never return void.  This was made clear Sunday night, when Russ preached his final sermon in the little Kondevaram church.  We arrived just before 9PM, shared communion with the believers, and Russ and I spoke and worshiped until past 11.  A woman who does not belong to the church began to shriek and shout something like “Shut up! Shut up!” while clapping her hands against her ears.  She then made other disruptive claims and speeches, but eventually calmed down after Russ and I each prayed.  I was sitting in the back among the women and strongly felt this was an overt enemy attack, although we have experienced many veiled ones.  Russ later told me he was certain of that, and so were Mary Grace and her father.  Stronger is He that is in us…!

We are being blessed by testimonies about the Gospel Meetings, by the responses at each location, and by sharing two weeks of Pastor Samuel’s ministry, which involves his entire family.  We will head for Vishakhapatnam after a few days, to a ‘real’ hotel to recuperate a bit before heading into the mountains of Orissa. 

Please continue to pray for us.  Especially for me (Alice) at this point--my legs are swollen,

Russ and Alice, India

partly due to the extreme heat (we have not had much electric power here) and partly due to five weeks of constant insect bites and their residual toxins.  Russ is doing well--our hostess at the home where we are staying had two shirts made for him—and dressed me up in a sari!

I’ve been taking photos of the various chili business owners and their workmen, so they know me and my walkabouts—they all had to come out on the loading dock and see me in the sari, walking to church alongside Russ on Sunday.  Quite a stir!  God uses us for “fish bait”…may His Name be glorified in this place also!

--Alice Sharrock