Who We Are, Is Who We Are

There are three passions in my life: God, orphans, and art. If even one of these three things were missing from my life, I would not be Amber Williams. Though each came to be apart of me at different moments, at various stages in life, each are essential to who I am. And though these three things are separate, they each tie one another together to make this extremely weird and unique person - after all everyone is unique.

It was always devastating for me to hear the stories of the orphans that I met in India. It's hard to hear any orphan's story. Because it's one always filled with the longing to be loved, but they were abandoned. They want a family, but it's them against the world; they wish for freedom, but they see no way out; they desire hope, but life always lets them down. Oh, but there is love and family and freedom and hope waiting out there for each child to grasp.

I can see it. A child sleeping on the streets. Covered in dirt, skin and clothes. The only clean spot is the streak of tears that run down his face. Everyday he is beaten, told that he's worthless, cussed at, thrown away as if like garbage. He's all alone, pretending to be a beggar in order to make money for the guy who owns him. He wonders to himself, "Is this what life is all about? Surly there's more out there than being a child slave." He is damaged, made handicapped to swindle more money out of tourists and the people passing on the streets. He kneels down and buries his face in the dirt to a false god, begging to be freed. Yet, he is told that this life is a punishment for a former one, that he deserves it. I will not, I cannot, stand by and do nothing when Christ gives me the power and compassion to forever change the lives of these children.

Some people have heard my tragic stories from India and have spoken a desire to rescue those kids, to make them forget of their once hard life, as if we could make it all go away. And no matter how much I hate that children are beaten, abandoned, used, neglected, enslaved, and starving - all over the world - I do not

wish for it to be removed from their memories. As much as I would love for everyone to be raised in a home full of love, it is impractical, and to remove an individual's past is to erase who they are. If I were to forget all about my childhood, how I felt more wrath from my father than love, then that would change everything, because it was my extreme desire for fatherly love that drew me to God. And it is the orphan's extreme desire for freedom and love that draws them to God. Our tragedy shapes who we are, whether we like it or not. We all have a sob story, and that story when told can impact some one so great we could possibly never know. So I encourage you on this day to share your story; share how Christ has completely altered your life, for God will use it to change others lives. What a wonderful cycle.

Your Will Be Done

Things were kind of going rough. Nothing was at all how I had expected it to be. It seemed like we were rained in more often than not, and being held hostage by weather in a small house with so many other people had its challenges. We had been to the orphanage many times before; however, things kept preventing us from going, besides the weather. The founder of the orphanage kept scheduling other individuals from America to minister to the kids. I am pleased that the orphans were able to bless other groups, but we had come to pour ourselves out to those kids for an entire summer. It was hard to share them; it was hard to be refused to see them. Deep down, we knew something more was happening. It came to the point where we had to involve our supervisor's supervisor. And it was then that we learned the hard truth, but also realized the extreme miracle and blessing it was that us four women went to India.

Just a week or two before our departure day, the orphanage we were to serve at and the company we were being sent through were breaking their contract. The company debated whether or not to cancel the trip, whether or not to have us go. By then I, personally, had already quit my job, and we all were just waiting for the day we would fly out. It would have been heart breaking, extremely disappointing, to receive a phone call of rejection after almost a year of preparation. But God had other plans. He so desired us to be there, and there we went. Though it was hard to be denied access to the orphanage, God used such events to allow us to minister to village children that would have never received our attention if things would not have happened as they did. Children heard the gospel no matter what.

Sometimes I would question whether or not God had actually called me to India. I struggled with why I went; I was confused about majoring in art if the children there did not even understand English; I basically began to question my calling entirely. However, God placed information and people in my life during that time in India to encourage me, and to reassure me that I am following God's will. It was amazing to hear and truly understand the extreme miracle that I was apart of that team to go to India. Though there were four openings, the South Carolina BSM had claimed three of those positions. I do not know who else applied for the project that I eventually was accepted to, I just know that God wanted me to be the one to go. So much of who I am was changed by that trip, or more so by God in that country. There are just some things concerning God's will that cannot be changed, and me going to India was one of them. Praise Him!

Believe

The school was only five to ten minutes away from our home. About 15 children would come to this small, rectangular, bamboo building to receive a form of education. The ground was made of pact dirt, and the children sat on multiple medium sized rugs. There was no chairs, no desks. As the custom of Indian culture, my teammate and I took our sandals off before entering the building. Compared to the brightness outside, it was dark in the school and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust. I soon saw a pre-teen boy towards the front of the room, and found it hard to look away. For a brief moment it was like him and I were the only ones in the small room. Within that moment I could feel the kindness of this boy. I could feel it, and for some reason God burdened my heart specifically for this boy who I did not yet know. 

Kailash (Ca-los).

That day the sun was shining, creating a beautiful dry day during monsoon season. We decided to split the kids up. I took the older children outside while my teammate, Kate, kept the younger children inside the school. The kids wanted to play Duck Duck Goose (or in their words: Duck Duck Juice), so they made a big circle and sat down. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the "kind boy" standing on the porch-like area of the school. 

"What's your name?" I asked him.

"Kailash."

"Do you want to play with us?"

He looked down and I followed his gaze. In the middle of his foot, on the bottom, was a two inch infected gash. Even though I knew there wasn't much I could do to help him, I pulled my first aid kit out of my backpack to clean his wound, and placed a band-aid over the area. He thanked me and went inside the school to help Kate with the younger kids. Occasionally, I would see him watching the older kids as they played games. My heart ached for him.

India is a very dirty place, especially out in the country and villages. Trash litters almost every people inhabited area. Cows, goats, water buffaloes, dogs, and cats roam freely around, leaving their waste product to mark where they had been. Kailash's foot could easily get worse, and I carried my concern for him throughout the week. Everyday I prayed for him, that he would be okay. The next time we went to the school Kailash was not there. I asked the teacher where he was, and the reply was that Kailash had a fever and could not come to school. The infection was spreading. That night when my team and I had returned to our Indian home, I read John 14. Jesus says in verse 13: "Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son." For a week I prayed and begged to God that Kailash would be healed for the glory of His name, that his healing would be an opening to share the gospel to not only Kailash, but to all of the students in that school.

Village Kids. Kailash in center.

It was another beautiful Friday when we next went to the school. I was walking toward the bamboo building with my teammates when Kailash ran up to me. With the biggest, most joyous smile I have ever seen, he showed me his foot. All that I could see was a faint, scar-like line revealing where the infected gash had once been. I'm not sure who was happier, I or him, but we marveled at his foot together. Oh, but God's answered prayers does not stop at the healing of Kailash's foot. I had also prayed that the gospel would be shared with these children.

After playing Hang Man to teach the kids some new English words, we had enough time to tell the children a story. And we chose a very important story: the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. All of this was really spur of the moment, so my teammates and I briefly discussed who should tell the story. Inside me I could feel a chocking fear rise up inside of me, but my teammates were persistent on me being the one to share the gospel. To this day I am so thankful that they did not let me back down, but encouraged me to be courageous for our Savior. The kids were all seated on the floor looking up at me with intrigued eyes, and I began the story.

"A long time ago a very important baby was born in a small village. This baby was named Jesus, and he was the Son of God...." As I continued to the point that Jesus was beaten and crucified for all of humanity, the children gasped with eyes of horror; however, when the story came to when Jesus rose from the dead, conquering Death, the children clapped their hands with big smiles.

To this day I do not know if any of those village kids decided to believe in Jesus, but I know that on that day when they heard the gospel I could see in their eyes that they understood. That day I felt honored and unworthy that God would choose to use me, but so blessed that no matter my fears or flaws He indeed wanted me to be the one that shared with the kids. 

There is so much one could learn from this story: God is a mighty God who still heals people, He equips those He calls, God answers prayers, and etc. I ask you to please join me in praying for the children of India, that a generation who loves God would rise up, and that God would continue to do powerful things in that nation.

Dear Ajay...

If I could write to you, this is what I would say.

The last time I saw you, soon before I left India to return home, you asked me not to forget you. With beautiful brown eyes gazing up at me, you begged me to remember you...to tell my family and church about you. I've kept my promise Ajay. Not a day goes by that you are not in my thoughts, that I do not lift a prayer to God our Father for you. I dream about us being reunited, that I could see how much you've grown up, to hear your voice again, to see your pearly white teeth showing through your smile. When I returned to the States after my trip, I told my church about you and all the other orphans; I told them about your love for Jesus, how you want to be a pastor when you grow up, how you were freed from child slavery, how your parents abandoned you.

 Do you remember how we met? It was my second day at the orphanage. You came up to me and asked if I knew how to draw. When I said yes, you asked if I would teach you. From that day on we had such a special bond. The next day you were in my group for English time, and I taught all of you how to draw different objects. We drew a landscape picture, and I watched as your imagination took flight. You drew trees, mountains, rocks, birds, and clouds. I have kept all of the drawings you've given me, such precious and beautiful works of art. You are so talented Ajay. 

I remember the first time you called me mom. My heart almost exploded, and tenderly I called you my son. At that moment we adopted each other as our family. Everyday that I came to the orphanage you gave me drawings and letters. When I had to say goodbye to you forever, I held you so tight because I didn't want to let go, and you just let me. Tears rolled down both of our faces, and you begged me to not go. And if I would have had a choice, I wouldn't have left. I remember getting into our car, and you were just outside my window. As the driver took me further and further away from you, you ran after the car, waving bye, and I couldn't stop gazing at you. Leaving you was the most heart breaking thing I've ever done.

It is so hard being in the States and not knowing how you are doing, if you are safe and provided for. God has taught me that no matter how much I love you, He loves you eternally more. Though I was force to leave you, God will always be at your side; though I'm not there to care for you anymore, God is your provider no matter what. I rejoice in knowing that the Holy Spirit dwells within you, and that God will continue to use you for His glory. I rejoice in knowing that even if I never see you again in this life, we will be reunited in heaven, and together we will praise the name of Jesus.

I love you so so much Ajay,

Amber Mom

Though There is Great Darkness, The Light Shines Brighter

Hindu Temple. Woman burning 
incense to gods.

In America we Christians do not think much about spiritual warfare...at least most don't. Satan tends to hide more in the pretty things in this "land of prosperity." He whispers within the American Dream of more, more, more - never be content, always strive for the best, no matter the cost. However, in India spiritual warfare is noticeable everywhere the eye looks. You step into the land of spiritual darkness and you can physically feel the heavy presence of evil. Satan and his demons run rampant in India, destroying everything within their path, growing more and more rooted within the Indian culture and way of life. Travel to a third world country and the Bible will come to life before your eyes: the beggars, the pagan idols, the lame. It's all rather overwhelming.

Shiva, Hindu god of death.

When surrounded by so much darkness it is important, vital, to absorb oneself with light. Light. My teammates and I would awaken every morning and spend time in the Word of God to begin our days. If we did not, then it was like going out in a battle field without any armor or weapon. I remember waking up late one day and skipping my quiet time. It was the only day during my time in India that I missed a quiet time. When I say that day was one of the worst days of my life I am not exaggerating. There was tension between me and my teammates, I was unhappy and felt lonely, and I was angry almost all day. We girls had what we call "house church." It was a time set aside that all four of us came together to be in the Word, and to learn from one another as we studied a book in the Bible together. During house church, we always set some time out for conflict resolution. I decided to talk to my teammates about how I had felt all day. Together we concluded that it was because I had not begun my day with God. So at the conclusion of house church, I went and had my own personal time with Jesus. Immediately I felt my soul lift, and all the negative feelings fled. All Christians should have to rely on the Bible as such, like it is our life source. After all, that is what it is...and so much more.

Though I was surrounded by such darkness while I was in India, I saw so much of God's Light shining brighter and brighter. It's amazing how bright light shines when it is surrounded by night. It's beautiful. I saw Light radiate from the orphans, and it burst forth from the believers that we were blessed to meet. Though there is great darkness, the Light always shines brighter. 

Seeing the great love that the orphans had for God shocked me. Their love for Jesus was so great that it caused me to question how much I actually loved my Savior. As much as I would like to believe that I changed their lives, I am certain that they impacted me far more than I did them. I loved them to my fullest ability and beyond, by the grace of God, and I know that they felt that love. They did the same to me, to my team. They called me Amber Mom, after all they found themselves with four moms that Summer, and I whole heatedly call them my children. Desperately I miss my son Ajay, my daughters Rosni and Daisy; I miss all of them. It was always encouraging for me to see how much joy they all had when they had nothing. Nothing earthly anyways. They had no parents; they all once were slaves; they were abandoned; they were hated by society; they wore used, torn, and dirty clothes. Yet God became their Father as soon as they believed in Jesus; they were freed from child slavery AND from sin; they became adopted as children of God, loved and provided for by their Creator; and though their clothes are ragged, they wore the tenderness, love, grace, and faith of Jesus Christ. The children at the orphanage had much to learn from us, but we had much more to learn from them. Never have I been loved like I was loved that Summer, by orphans.

This Burning Passion

It was dirty. Trash was everywhere. Children barely clothed laid down upon the street side for the night, having no where else to lay their head. This was my first sight of true poverty, my first experience at seeing poor and powerless people. I had just landed in Delhi, India.

My Summer of 2013 was spent in an Indian village teaching English to village children and orphans. It was then and there that God overwhelmingly burdened my heart with a passion for orphans, for children abandoned and enslaved. What I experienced that Summer was so unexpected. I left the States knowing that this trip would change my life; however, I never knew that it would change everything, even to who I was. It has now been 10 months since I have returned to America, yet I find that I can never go back to the simple life that I once lived before. Everyday I think about my orphan children that I was forced to leave in India. My eyes close and I see their faces. I imagine wrapping my arms around them again, and kissing their precious heads. Eagerly I await the day that God says I can go back to the land He has called me to.

This burning passion within me has not died, nor will it ever. God has blessed me with this wonderful vision of seeing a new generation in India rising up, of partaking in once orphaned children being adopted into the family of God, watching as children who love their Father more than anything else serve Him till the end of time, and uniting the nation of India to God. Every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is LORD. I am honored to be apart of this, and I with so many others will be a voice for the orphans, for the poor, and for the powerless.

Please join me in praying for these people: for the lost, for the child slave, for the human trafficking, for the children owned by pimps, for the poor and helpless, for those surrounded by spiritual darkness. Thank you and may God bless you.