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

Brothers in Christ

Russ and I have spoken in churches all across the spectrum, and we always find each group of believers has a flavor of its own.  The recent Lutheran churches had a distinctly Indian mix of formality and fervor.  Back in Virginia, we called a  Church of God service “aerobic worship”—body, heart, voice and soul went into expressing their zeal for Christ.  We saw that again here in the town of Pithapuram, India.

We held a two-day Pastors’ and a Wives’ Conference under the auspices of Pastor Samuel Raju, Grace Baptist Church. The pastors met in the second-floor church for Russ’ teaching on Leadership and Discipleship.  The wives met on the roof under a very colorful canopy that we had to constantly re-secure due to the burning sun and occasional (welcome) gust of wind.

Satan is definitely warring against us.  Mostly small things, like fiery little ants biting us all night in bed (we don’t mind their ever-present trails across the walls and floor, but…)  At each stay, we have to reconstruct a routine for getting Russ bathed and ready every morning, especially when we share facilities with an extended family.  And of course, during ministry, the usual power outages...  Just enough to constantly eat away at our patience and endurance.

Russ & Pastor Samuel

Some bigger things too:  Rumors of threats to those who work with us. Recurring blisters across Russ’ legs from the heat, humidity and long, steep stairways.  Some necessities were overlooked despite lists and planning.  Then today we found our Visa card is dead—Bank of America/USA had been hacked and they re-issued new cards after we left.  Ours is probably sitting safely at home in Oklahoma…

But as Karen May said in her video, “Our God is greater!”  The Conference was a tremendous success.  Over the two days, Russ clapped to feverish drumming and joyous dancing by the ‘sedate’ pastors.  Their concrete ceiling (our floor) shook.  The ladies were a

Dancing before the Lord

little more reserved for a while, then opened up when I welcomed questions—not just about the lessons, but about us personally.  I assured them that I did basically the same things they did:  Cook, clean, wash laundry…  Then we prayed together. 

We taught, and they learned.  I could see some eyes riveted on me during the whole six sessions, but even those who appeared to be dozing in the heat of the day came alive during the discussions.  At the end, all the pastors and wives came together and shared.  Men spoke of Russ’s meticulous printed notes—something they had never had before—and many of them said they would use them to teach others across this part of India.  So, the Word of God and His principles will go forth in a widening circle from here!  Another man reinforced Russ’ advice to memorize Scripture.  He was previously illiterate and could not read the Bible, so he memorized verses so he could minister effectively.  He is teaching his son to do the same.  

Alice and Mary Grace

This was the first time the wives ever had anything geared to them!  I taught them principles  from the lives of Sarah, Ruth, Mary and others.  My focus was on following/helping your husband in his calling.  You would think that in this patriarchal society, the husband's leadership would be a "given".  Not so!  One woman, Dayamani, spoke at the end:  She had learned about Sarah’s obedience to Abraham (1 Peter 3:5,6), and with tears, promised to change her ways.  She confessed that she often spoke disrespectfully to her husband when he came home late after a long day of ministry.  “Get your own water, I’m sleeping!  There’s rice in the pot, don’t disturb me!”

Dayamani

We spoke of our partnership marriage/ministry and I believe they see it in our lives.  “Two are better than one, and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.”  They learned from us, and we learned from them.  We are brothers and sisters in Christ.  Different clothes, different food, and different culture—yet “One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father…” 

We have begun outdoor Gospel Meetings in Kondevaram village.  More later…  Please pray for souls to be saved through Russ’ gospel presentations.  Tonight he gives his testimony (the small boys in the front rows have already seen, wide-eyed, his “robot legs”).  Plus pray for our upcoming incursion into the Eastern Ghat Mountains to more tribal peoples.  It will be a remote area and Christians there endure a lot of persecution.  But the Lord is in control, and He desires to be worshiped by all tribes and nations and languages.  Praise God!  Dayvuniki stotrum!

--Alice Sharrock

Easter in Pithapuram

The sun rises like a glowing ember in the smoky haze of humidity.  Easter morning is already in full swing—the staccato of autorickshaws, the off-key droning of local church music, and the slap-slap of laundry being done somewhere in this extremely crowded neighborhood. 

We are staying on the third floor of a nicer home along a narrow alley squeezed between two greenish drain gutters—40 steps up and 40 steps down, plus four more to street level.  Then Russ has to walk to Mirapakalaya (Chili) Street to get into a car, if we go to preach elsewhere.  Today we are only going two blocks to Grace Baptist Church, pastored by Samuel Raju, to give the Easter message--so Russ gets into his wheelchair in the alley, and we roll off to church.  A retinue follows us carrying his Bible, drinking water bottles and our cameras. 

Various children and curious onlookers join the train….we are definitely a foreign oddity.  

A legless white man and a grey-haired woman in the hot tropical sun, on a street crowded with motorbikes, decrepit bicycles, women with baskets balanced on their heads, wandering pigs, street dogs, trash, and of course chilis. 

(We had seen miles of chili fields southwest of Guntur, and this is where they go next.  Huge burlap bags of chilis dominate the scene. Merchants and warehouse owners farm out the chilis to local housewives to de-stem at one rupee [2 cents] per kilo.  Chilis, chilis everywhere.  The home where we have a room belongs to a chili dealer, a recent convert to Christianity.)

                                                                                           

Grace Baptist Church, Pithapuram

Grace Baptist Church was the first Christian church in this Hindu town, begun in 1994.  It meets on the second floor of Pastor Samuel’s modest home. This means up three very high steps from the street, into a long skinny corridor to the back, then up more staircases to the meeting.  Russ says people may think he is brave for coming to preach in India, but maybe we have a touch of insanity thrown in…

The day is hot, the room is hot, the congregation sitting on the floor are hot, we are hot.  This is the highest holy day of the Christian world, and we are celebrating it with brothers and sisters on the opposite side of the world who do not speak our language.  Pastor Samuel’s daughter Mary Grace, who just graduated from Berean Bible College in Bangalore, is our translator.  Russ speaks about the empty cross, God’s promise of salvation; the empty tomb, His promise of eternal life; and the 

Easter in Pithapuram, India (Alice, lower right)

empty grave clothes, Jesus’ promise of continuing fellowship with a living Lord.  Translation flows smoothly and people are attentive.

Then the inevitable happens.  This is India, and the power goes out as usual.  We lose the mikes and the ceiling fans.  The children grow restless and the babies squall.  Hot becomes stifling. We can barely breathe.  But Russ’ Easter message is just about concluded and they have all been presented with the Gospel.   

The service and fellowship are wonderful, but exhausting.  We rest a while, then in the cool of evening, head for Pastor Samuel’s mission church in Kondevaram village.  In this predominately Hindu area, there had been no place of worship, and a lady who attended in

Pithapuram begged him to plant a church in her village.  We ride through the darkness and pull up in front of a little stucco room with thatch roof.  Men, women and children await our arrival, and a huge stem of bananas stands in the corner.  Alice greets the congregation, then Russ gives his message a second time, and people bow to the ground in prayer before God.  Then we eat again.  It is hard to realize that as we are winding down at night, our friends in Oklahoma are just beginning their Easter service.

(Note:  After the two-day Pastors’ and Wives’ Conference, we will be holding three days of outdoor Gospel Meetings in Kondevaram village, to reach Hindus of the area with the hope of Christ.)

Both of us are being stretched.  Alice is now eating with her hands (sometimes) in the Indian tradition, and sitting on the floor with the women of the churches—which endears us to them. 

Russ is learning that a well-planned schedule—especially the listed times—are subject to constant change.  We are both grateful for at least a ceiling fan in lieu of AC—and for power when we have it.  Internet is an infrequent luxury.  We wash our laundry in our bath buckets—sometimes in water of questionable hue and provenance.  Unwelcome flora and fauna are part of our daily lives, including in our rooms and on our persons.  But as we said before, this is NOT a vacation.

  

This is celebrating Christ’s Resurrection with our brothers and sisters a world away, encouraging persecuted believers (yes, here in Pithapuram) and bringing Him to those who have never heard.  May the Lord continue to be glorified among the nations!

--Alice Sharrock

Big and Small, God Uses Them All

Two weeks ago we were in Vijayawada, in a little thatch church with a dirt floor.  Monday, we were in one of the largest in the city—St. Peter’s Lutheran Church.  The altar area was

paneled in teak and the floors were marble.  Russ was asked to preach on this second day of Holy Week, from Mark 11:15-19.

It’s still hard to reconcile formal cassocks and chandeliers with indigenous drums and lizards

My Father's House of Prayer--for All Nations

on the walls.  Head Pastor Adam Kennedy (named in honor of JFK but definitely not Irish) and Assistant Pastor Santha Rao (our host this week) welcomed us. 

A lone woman prayed at the railing, the pastors began the liturgy, and then Russ gave his message on Jesus’ cleansing of the temple, His Father’s House of Prayer.  Russ spoke of the foundational need of prayer for the Christian life, and also the need for cleansing our lives before coming to God.

His message bore fruit.  People began coming up to the altar rail; old women fell on their faces, girls kneeled, men raised their hands in prayer.  The Lord moves in hearts and souls, whether they worship Him in a tent slum or in high church.  We are honored that He continues to use us in both places.

Tuesday saw us back in Bapatla, where Russ taught 20-odd pastors (they kept arriving) principles of Christian leadership.  Some were bivocational, either teaching at Bible colleges, or driving autorickshaws—besides their ministry—to support their families.  It seems pastors’ lives are similar all over the world. 

Pastors' Meeting, Bapatla

We spent time afterward talking with Santha Rao and James, our interpreter, who is quite an intellectual.  We discussed theology and eternity and evangelism.  Santha Rao’s deepest desire is to bring the Gospel to the unreached across India. 

And, they want us back for a three-day conference next year, and would like to include pastors’ wives.  So many local pastors have so little training.  Even though they have a great desire to serve God, they definitely need more grounding in both the Scriptures and in administration.  We are praying that the Lord will make it possible for us to continue this crucial work. 

 

Tomorrow we prepare for a long train journey toward Pithapuram and our next Pastors’ and Wives’ Conference.  We will spend Easter at Pastor Samuel Raju’s Grace Baptist Church and minister with him for ten days.  Then on to Orissa with Pastor Bihit to reach more tribals in the Eastern Ghat Mountains.  So much has happened, yet so much lies ahead.  Who knows what God will do?

Please continue to keep us in your prayers.  The steep stairways and long ministry journeys are not easy--and especially hard on Russ’ legs.  But we see the heartfelt response to the Gospel and Bible teaching, and it propels us onward.   

May the Lord be glorified among the nations!  --Alice Sharrock

Palm Sunday (Literally)

Palm Sunday means church to most of us, the start of Holy Week, and praises to our King.  It just feels a little different in India.

We started early, heading north toward Guntur from Bapatla, and found ourselves along the same mountains as our first week. Fields of red chili, cotton and rice kuppas (huge round stacks curing in the fields) slipped past us.  Men threshed seeds in the road, leaving the ripened plants for traffic to run over, then tossing the crop into the air for the wind to cleanse. 

Building materials changed from concrete to native rock. The village of Peddigothi Paddu appeared like a morph of an Irish village with stone buildings, narrow streets and thatched roofs.  Except the signs were in Telugu and barefoot men wearing lungis trudged along the road.

Palm Sunday, Peddigothi Paddu, India

A beautiful church came into sight, surrounded by coconut palms. Palm branches—decorated with flowers on the tip of each leaflet—were waving from the fencing.  It was a fitting place to worship on this Palm Sunday.  

Christ Lutheran Church was built in 1927 and has a congregation of over 300.  Most of them were here today to worship the Lord as King of kings—and as the Lamb of God whose death would become His destiny in a few more days.

Pastor Ravi Prasad, Santha Rao’s elder brother, had invited Russ to preach on this important occasion.  Church began with throbbing drums and jangling tambourines; hymns and prayers mixed the flavors of India and Europe, yet there was a sense of profound worship.  God desires to be praised by all nations, tribes, peoples and languages of His earth. 

"The Road to Jerusalem"

Russ spoke of The Road to Jerusalem—Jesus’ path of submission, fulfillment of prophecy, destiny and ultimately, our salvation at the Cross.  We had a skilful interpreter and the service flowed beautifully.  We were impressed at the large number of men present, and how Pastor Prasad involved young and old, men and women during worship.  It was a blessing to us.

Worshiping with Grandpa

India is a land of incredible contrasts.  We have brought the Gospel to people in thatched huts and in concrete church buildings; in village crusades where the mosquitoes outnumbered the people; in prayer meetings packed with sweaty bodies eager to hear about Jesus; walked through mud, buffalo manure and monsoon floods to reach the poor living in slums.  The lost are hungry for the hope of Jesus Christ, and God has given us the responsibility to feed them with His Word.  On this Palm Sunday, we truly experienced His reality as Lord of lords, King of kings, and the One True God in a land of a million idols.  Hosanna to the Son of David!

--Alice Sharrock 

The Man with No Legs

Pastor Santha Rao introduces Russ

Thursday night we did High Church.  Pastor Santha Rao took us to a brother pastor’s parish, in Pitalavani Palem. They are Evangelical Lutheran, and both the church and worship were a bit more in the western tradition.  Pastor Abraham wore a white cassock and the conservative altar hangings contrasted sharply with colorful tinsel draped from the rafters overhead.  We entered the well-kept stucco building, complete with steeple, and I sat on floor mats among the women.  I think Kipling was mistaken—East does meet West sometimes, but he was right in that it happens only in God’s presence.  (…East is East, and West is West and ne’er the twain shall meet, til Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat…)

Pastor Santha Rao introduced Russ, Pastor Abraham’s 

The Man with No Legs Preaching

congregation greeted him, and we sang hymns in Telugu words whose melodies had roots in Wittenberg or Frankfurt.  Once again, the Lord led Russ to intertwine his personal testimony with a message about the uniqueness of each human soul created in the image of the One True God.  The concept of sin and the need for salvation were clearly and passionately explained.  I feel this was Russ’ best presentation so far. 

We realized yesterday that the Lord is creating an interesting phenomenon.  Word is spreading rapidly about “the man with no legs who is traveling across India to preach the gospel”.  The common people here, where suffering is an integral part of life, recognize the validity of Russ’ experience with God during the past two terrible years.  The upper class marvel that he would brave the discomfort and challenges to travel here.  Believers are being encouraged, and the unsaved come out of curiosity.  Even at the children’s program last night, Russ captivated them with his titanium legs.  And we have received an invitation to speak in Hyderabad and to outlying tribal villages where pastors are hearing the rumors.

East and West before God's Throne

Russ sometimes jokes about his “weight loss plan—very effective but not recommended”—referring to his amputations.  I don’t think we need to seek suffering, but God always works everything together for good, to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.  He is using “the man with no legs” to bring the Gospel of Jesus Christ to India.  We are definitely being used for His purpose.   

--Alice Sharrock