Mission Story 1: Village Prayer Walk

One morning while at the Home of Love orphanage, I was hanging out with Appiah, a girl who is the same age as me.  We became fast friends, and I would seek her room as a refuge whenever I was exhausted from chasing or being chased by younger kids.  Although she shares her room with four other girls, she is the eldest, and everyone knows better than to bother her when she takes out her homework.  We were "studying" when Aunty Brenda, our InterVarsity leader, popped her head in and asked if I'd like to go on a prayer walk in the Hindu village with Jordan and Colleen, an American missionary who runs the orphanage with her husband.

Of course I said yes.  I was really excited because I had just seen God do amazing things when we prayed for the children (I'll write about that later!), and I was itching for a similar experience with the villagers.

We went first to pray for a Kajal, a fisherman who was suffering from problems with his kidneys.  To get to his house, we had to walk through a long, narrow alley that at one point was interrupted by a Hindu shrine.  I immediately felt claustrophobic - evil spirits in tight spaces don't make the most cheery environments!  By the time we got to his house, we had amassed a crowd of curious village kids and neighbors.  When the fisherman and his family came out to greet us, Colleen introduced Jordan as a healer, and the fisherman ushered us into his bedroom.  I sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed with Colleen and Jordan, distracted by the Hindu shrine that hung on the wall and by all of the children that were fighting to look at us from the window.  

The fisherman allowed Jordan to lay a hand upon him as he prayed.  Colleen translated and I prayed silently.  To my surprise, I felt the Holy Spirit.  I know I shouldn't have been so shocked. Of course God isn't afraid of idols!  At that moment, much of the spiritual wickedness seemed to have lifted, unmasking deep despair and sadness.  When Jordan finished praying, the fisherman's wife came in to greet us, which she did by bowing low enough to touch our feet. She had tears in her eyes as said how thankful she was that we would come to see her family.

She chatted with Colleen in Bangla, and when she left to bring us a snack, Colleen explained that the fisherman had fallen ill right after his daughter (from a previous marriage) had committed suicide.  After a fight with her stepmother, the daughter rebelled by hanging herself from the ceiling fan.  The fisherman was so heartbroken that he became physically sick.  I can't imagine the guilt and fear his wife must have been feeling, for if her husband dies, she'll have to wear a white sari (as a symbol of widowhood) and have to spend her life as her brother-in-law's servant.  She must have felt as though she cursed both her husband and herself.

After we said our goodbyes, we headed over to the other side of the village, where we were going to pray for a girl named Asha.  On the way Colleen explained that several months ago, she and her friend met Asha's elder sister.  Her sister expressed her desire to do well in school, and Colleen's friend agreed to pay for a tutor, so Colleen regularly visits the family to drop off the money.  On a chilly December day, while at the family's house, Colleen asked the girl if she had a sister.  The girl said she "sort of" had a sister.  "What do you mean 'sort of'?" Colleen asked.  The girl explained that her sister was retarded, and was thus "nothing."

Colleen asked to see the sister, and they brought out a little 9 year-old girl who, despite the cold, wore nothing but an oversized shirt.  The girl and her mother warned Colleen that if she touched her, she would bite, but Colleen insisted that she wasn't afraid.  The girl flinched when Colleen touched her, as though she had never before been touched gently.  Colleen asked the mother what the girl's name was, and the mother said she didn't have a name.  Colleen asked to name her "Asha," which is Bangla for "hope."  Each time Colleen visited, she would pray for and shower love upon Asha,  much to the confusion of the mother and sister.  Soon, they also began to call the girl by the name Colleen gave her.

When we got to the home, we were greeted by the mother and elder sister.  We found a naked Asha sitting in the entrance.  "This is my very sad family," the mother said to Jordan and me as she led us into the house, but we stopped to say hello to Asha.  She quickly clenched her hand around my finger, and in that moment, I knew my heart was broken.

We said a prayer for the elder sister, then for Asha.  We prayed for strength and healing in her legs, for though she could move and control her legs, she could not walk (although I personally feel that she would be walking now if only her family made an effort to help her!!!!)  Most importantly, we prayed that she would know God's love, for I am certain that she has NEVER been loved by her family.  After we prayed, the mother asked if we could take Asha away from her.  "Look at her!  She's never acted like this!" she said, gawking at how Asha clung to the three of us.  (Well freakin' hug her, and I'll bet she'll show you the same affection, I felt like screaming at her.)

How could they treat Asha like that?  Like she's not even human?  I left that house furious at that family.  The eldest sister held my hand as she and her mother walked us out, and the whole time I felt like slapping her.  I prayed desperately for God's grace and did my very best to love her.  

Even now, two weeks later, I still cannot stop thinking about Asha.  I wish I was back in Bangladesh so I could visit her!!  SHE is God's favorite child.  I am certain of that.

Then he said to them, "Whoever welcomes this little child in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.  For he who is least among you all - he is the greatest." - Luke 9:48