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.