By Caitlin D.
Some weeks ago, S. asked me to
go with her as she led her ladies' Bible study in the village, and I accepted.
As we drove, she began to tell me
about the living conditions in the village. The houses are often made
of dirt, and when the heavy rains come, sometimes the houses fall in on
top of them. The water that they use is pumped by hand from the underground
streams that branch off from the Ganges River.
I listen to her as she describes
all this, and I think about my comfortable home in the States. I think of my
cushy lifestyle, and of how easy it is to be a Christian in my part of the
world. Shame and uneasiness begin to creep over me like a dark cloud. But I
kept a cheerful face and resolved to play it by ear and simply do my best.
We come to a little house and women
and children gather around S. She begins to talk merrily with them, and when
she introduces me, they all smile.
We all sit down, and she begins a
song. They all join in and they clap their hands in a lively rhythm. I don't
know the song, but I clap along enthusiastically. I hear everyone singing, as
we say in the States, "with gusto." (May I just say right here that
any Christian who refuses to let his voice be heard because he or she
"doesn't have a good voice," would do well to visit
another country and see how eager everyone in the tiny churches are to
praise the Lord together, whether or not they "can sing." It does a
heart good to hear wholehearted, unpretentious singing!)
S. begins to teach, and absolute
silence falls. I watch the faces of the women and children. Their eyes are
riveted on her face. Some of them are actually leaning forward a little, intent
on catching every word. The children are crowded round the door, and they too
are absolutely spellbound. I look at the pictures that S. holds up, and I watch
her gesture with her hands. I listen to the tone of her voice, and I find I can
follow along a little. What strikes me most is S's face. She is radiant. Her
eyes glow from their very deepest depths, and I can hear love and joy and
delight spilling out in every word she utters. She is placing a spiritual feast
before a group of starving sisters. This is what she does. She left her comfy
life in the States so that she could be like Christ, serving the "least of
these."
I look deeply into her eyes, and I
feel passion stirring up my soul. I want to serve like that. I want to live a
life that is useful to Christ. I want to help others in my life, just like her.
I want that kind of joy, and as I look at the faces of these needy hurting
hearts, I say in my heart, "Oh, Lord, please make me useful to You! Let me
live a life that helps others, so that I can further Your kingdom!"
