So, I'm in America right now.

As I am writing this, I have been in America for four days!

God has been so gracious, the culture shock was very gradual-- Kesinga to Vizag, Chennai to London, New York to North Carolina. It was a very gradual immersion and it was very gentle. In fact, I enjoyed coming back! I missed a lot of things about America...Pizza, freedom, shorts, good coffee, public libraries, cheese, loud American laughter, being a single woman and still feeling confident. Heck, the women walk with confidence and self-respect here. America is fantastic. This is my first home. My country. Cheese. So much cheese. I haven't had cheese in half a year. Cheese. God bless America.

The culture shock was not as bad as I had imagined, and the worst of the culture shock was getting used to the fact that everything in America is built for tall Americans--in South Asia, everything is built for people much, much shorter than me! My body had to even adjust to the height of the steps leading to my room! 

I was assuming that I'd become very very sad when I got home-- but the truth is, I am excited and very happy. I happy to see my family and friends and visit everyone and I am so excited for the future. It's really so hard to be sad when there is so much to look forward to! Yes, I am sad that I am away from my Indian family, but I am so excited to work hard, learn Hindi, study for nursing school and then, one day, see my Indian family again!

I am excited and happy. I am so happy to be here. America is great and I missed it allot. 

Now. If you'll excuse me, I am going to simultaneously drink some dark coffee, play a game boy, watch netflix and laugh obnoxiously loud with my family.  

Love you guys!

As soon as you read this, please pray

I know you all know how I feel about the hospitals here- "malpractice" isn't a word here; if it was, there'd be no doctors. In fact, to put that into perspective, let me remind you that just last month, 25 infants died in a Malda hospital of malnutrition because nurses just didn't show up for work (http://www.newindianexpress.com/nation/Infant-Deaths-up-to-25-in-Malda-Hospital-in-West-Bengal/2014/10/28/article2497317.ece). 

I wish I could say these things in a more polite manner, but I can't. I'm infuriated with what has happened in the last two days and every moment I am in a hospital here I am convinced ever the more that I will study in med school as hard as mentally possible so that my cubs can have even the least bit compassion and care in their favor. 

Let me get to the point. 

Yesterday, we took Sanjay to the hospital.

...I will allow myself to be graphic in my descriptions because I want you to know what is truly going on here, heaven forbid me to sugar coat anything that is truly happening here. (2 Corinthians 2:4-- For I wrote to you out of much affliction and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to cause you pain but to let you know the abundant love I have for you...)

Sanjay was throwing up many times, throwing up blood, even his urine was black with blood. His left side, by his kidneys, was hard and stiff. His kidneys were shutting down. We are assuming, even now when I write this, that his heart is experiencing failure.

We took him to the hospital and waited, forever, for a doctor to just DO something. 

No doctor came. 

The doctor, the same doctor that showed no compassion or love to Brundaban (see previous posts) when he had a gaping head wound, sat nonchalantly behind a desk, doing nothing. I became infuriated. This was an emergency. Sanjay's internal organs were shutting down. Instead of doing what I wanted to do (punch him in the throat), I calmly went in and said in broken Hindi to "hurry up please, he has thrown up blood many times" and he, unphased, told me to go away.

I left. I went in again, asking again, calmly, please hurry. This is serious. He's throwing up blood. I got ignored again.

I got table-flipping mad. I stormed out. I loudly cracked my knuckles and neck and went back in, this time, loudly speaking my horrible broken Hindi-- JAILDE CHALO. Quickly do. He is throwing up blood. His urine is black. Hurry up. NOW. 

The doctor then said "he's throwing up blood?" And I said YES. Take him in. NOW.

I kept going, like the persistent widow...at the time I did not know if it was holy or not to show so much anger, but as of now, I realize that it needed to be done, I continued the day as the persistent widow, praying through what was holy anger and what was not. It was very difficult to discern.

We continued on to another doctor who did not know what he was doing, when presented with the urine sample he made us go to the blood testing area. After waiting for blood testing they said no, go to the urine testing. You need a special paper for urine testing...and the ticket office for the special paper was closed. Everyone in the ticket office was eating or taking naps. I can't make this stuff up.

I thought that, if I were persistent enough, the lab would just have to take the sample without a ticket. So, I went to the urine lab.

At the urine lab, I was greeted by the sight of several dozens of sick people waiting for their urine to be tested. I realized I did not have the special golden ticket for urine testing, so, instead, I parted through all of the people and said "sir, please take this. It is an emergency. The ticket office is closed and this is an emergency. Please test this." To which the lab tech said, "what is this black liquid?" I replied, "this is bloody urine, sir." "Oh..." "Please test this. Now." "Okay, come back in one hour"

That felt a little too easy.

After waiting an hour an a half, I went back up to the desk. I noticed that the whole hospital was shutting down for the day. Oh heck nah. No one was behind the desk. 

So I just kinda ran into the urine lab without permission.

I then started yelling in horribly broken Hindi to hurry it up, you said it'd be an hour. Hurry it up. Sanjay's organs are failing. The hospital is shutting down. What is this stupidity, ye kya bewakoofe hai?!

That seemed enough for the lab to give the report, which I think was already finished half an hour before I stormed in, momma lion, snarling and mad. We then quickly admitted him, got him to an IV, finally got him in a bed (before this, he was laying on Alexis' lap, horribly in pain)

Alexis is such a good "mom"... She held onto Sanjay, who was moaning in pain, softly stroked his hair, prayed over him, made sure he was safe and as comfortable as possible and had water as momma lion went to go snarl at the bad guys.

Through all of this I did my best to inform Catherine, beautiful, selfless Catherine, of her supportee and brother Sanjay's health. Cat had lived here in Kesinga for a while and had become very close to Sanjay and I know Sanjay looks up to her. I told him many times that Cat is praying for him. Cat is praying, your big sister is praying. Hold on. That made him smile a lot.

I have no idea where to end this, as I write this, Sanjay is on a 9-hour train ride to a better hospital, throwing up often and unable to drink water... I don't know what to say. I don't know how to make this blog post sound nice. I can't make it some poetic post and I will be honest, my heart hurts. 

Here's the truth: Our God is alive. Our God is strong. Take heart--He's overcome this world. He's defeated death. By His wounds we are healed. 

Here's what I desperately need for you all to do right now: Pray. Pray to our God, our God who is so alive. Pray. Go before the throne on behalf of Sanjay. As soon as you read this, please fall on your knees. 

I love you all. Please keep praying.

The Return of the Lion | Follow Me

I haven't cried this hard in a very, very long time.

My heart is broken and my soul is torn. My body feels weak and my stomach feels faint.

I don't know how to write to you all, who I love and miss so dearly. I don't know how to accurately describe the emotions and spiritual suffering I am experiencing now and I am certain I will feel much longer.

I never know where to begin when I write to all of you beautiful people, I wish I could only be with you all, share coffee with you all [for I am certain I will have hundreds of coffee dates with you beautiful North Carolinians this winter, please drink irrationally stupid amounts of caffeine with me], cry in your presence, share my stories but also just to be with you. You are all so beautiful and your support and intercessions are what have brought me here, and for that, I praise the Lord and thank Him for you. I have no way to fully express my gratitude.

I leave India in two weeks. Last night, as the (beautiful, amazing) short term team left, several children and even some of the high school age boys were weeping, scared I was leaving that night as well. I had to reaffirm that, no, I am leaving in two weeks; you are not getting rid of me just yet. Mommy Brooke is still here. She will be gone, but she will not be gone for too long. Please don't grow up too much, my 71 children.

I started this morning with breakfast in Uncle James' 15x15 house, eating his birthday cake with him, his wife and his beautiful baby daughters, laughing and listening to little Sneha chatter away about how she did not get enough frosting, “why did mom not give me the big frosting flower, that's the best part?” and Glory repeating nursery rhymes.

I said nothing about last night and how I cried when the children came to me, sad and worried, but James, knowing me much too well, said with a smile, “It is going to be okay. We are Christians and that means that we will always be together. We are family, you are our family, and we will before the throne of God together, praising Him. I know we will not be apart for too long.”

I went back to my house and poured myself some coffee, my mind became a whirlwind of thoughts. The thoughts included a plethora of worries and fears, such as

How can I leave my two new girls (names not given for privacy) who have recently become close to me after their mother abused them to the point that their youngest sister died from the beatings? The youngest of these two girls has turned to tobacco and self-harm to self medicate and almost self-punish herself...she is such a beautiful child, I don't want her to hurt herself. She is so in need of a mother who loves her.

How can I leave my students, who are so silly, creative and incredibly intelligent? What if my one student truly has Autism, which I would not doubt in the least, and other teachers just don't understand him? He is so smart and capable, he just has a hard time connecting. Will any other teacher understand when he cannot look them in the eyes because he just cannot connect well?

How can I leave my Humshakals (a playful nickname I have for two boys here, Rabi and Bikash, who I regard as my brothers, I love them very much), who can always make me laugh and have the happiest smiles in the world?

How can I leave Hosanna and Khushi, who are my little sister and brother now, who I can talk with about anything, laugh and play guitar with and goof off with and talk about life with and who I love?

How can I leave Sarathi, my beautiful little sister Sarathi, her quiet, gentle spirit and warm smile?

How can I leave Sarita, I am her Rasgula and she is my Gulab Jamun, she is my sister and I want to be there for her.

How can I leave the littlest girls, who call me their mommy? They lie in my lap and fall asleep, holding my hands, saying, “I have no mommy, you are my mommy now”

Names and faces flood my mind, and as it floods, I feel as if I am drowning... and I have to realize, I must go home. I see the goals God has laid out for me and I can be more of a blessing when I finish my degree than if I stayed.

It seems so logical, so sensible, so rational to stay. But I know I need to go home, for I will become so much more of a blessing to my beautiful Indian family if I have a medical degree. I know this is what I need to do. God has made it obvious, so painfully obvious, and I cannot tell Him no.

In the book, “Prince Caspian” by C.S. Lewis, there is a chapter called “The Return of the Lion”. Back story to what happens in this chapter is that Lucy sees Aslan, tells the others, and the others do not see him, and, despite Lucy's insisting that they follow, she gives up and follows the others instead.

This causes the entire group to go in the completely wrong direction, and, as the book describes it, it is “Heart-breaking work—all uphill again, back over the ground they had already traveled.”

If we fast-forward a bit into the chapter, we see that the entire group finds a place to sleep and Lucy hears someone calling her name. It is Aslan. She runs up to him and embraces him. I will put an excerpt below:

“Lucy,” he said, “we must not lie here for long. You have work in hand, and much time has been lost to-day.”

“Yes, wasn't it a shame?” said Lucy. “I saw you all right. They wouldn't believe me. They're all so----”

From somewhere deep inside Aslan's body there came the faintest suggestion of a growl.

“I'm sorry,” said Lucy, who understood some of his moods. “I didn't mean to start slanging the others. But it wasn't my fault anyway, was it?”

The Lion looked straight into her eyes.

“Oh, Aslan,” said Lucy. “You don't mean it was? How could I—I couldn't have left the others and come up to you alone, how could I? Don't look at me like that... Oh well, I suppose I could. Yes, and it wouldn't have been alone, not if I was with you. But what would have been the good?”

Aslan said nothing.

“You mean,” said Lucy rather faintly, “that it would have turned out all right—Somehow? But how? Please, Aslan! Am I not to know?”

“To know what would have happened, child?” said Aslan. “No. Nobody is ever told that.”

“Oh dear,” said Lucy.

“But anyone can find out what will happen,” said Aslan. “If you go back to the others now, and wake them up; and tell them you have seen me again; and that you must all get up at once and follow me—what will happen? There is only one way of finding out.”

I don't understand. I don't. I don't know what would have happened if I stayed...but there is one thing I know for sure: I must follow him. I must follow wherever he calls me, even if that is hard, others do not understand, it doesn't seem rational or logical or sensible and the only thing I know is he is calling my name and I cannot ignore it.

2 Corinthians 5:6-9 says

"So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please Him."

The words for "home" and "away", in the original Greek text, are "endemeo" and "ekdemeo". 

The word "endemeo" means "to be among one's own people, dwell in one's own country, stay at home"

The word "ekdemeo" means "to go abroad; emigrate, depart; to be or live abroad; to abode with whom is promised us"

Whether I am at home or away, here or there, in the body or with the Lord, I know of one thing for sure: I must follow. I must please Him. I must go--wherever He wants.

I love you all. Mu tumako primo corre [Oriya for "I love you"]

There is not an adequate amount of coffee in my possession to fully write this post

I have no idea where to start this post, it's taken me a few days to actually write this and I have had two pots of coffee before writing this... so I'll just skip a nice intro and get into and get to the story: first of all, Brundaban came home from school with a deep, open wound in his head.

Hold on, let me interrupt myself.

Let's talk about Indian government schools for a moment. 

I have never before seen such negligent, uncaring, lazy and even abusive teachers. Children that are Christian will be denied many privileges in school. Hindu families will receive money from the government, but Christians will be denied such a right. You will often find that the teachers will sleep instead of teaching, sometimes in class. Sometimes they will "excuse themselves" to the restroom for long periods of time or eating and drinking instead of teaching, leaving entire classrooms devoid of teachers and education. If the students say the wrong answer, the teachers will slap or hit the children on the hands with sticks...sometimes, the teachers make the students slap themselves. 

This brings me back to Brundaban's condition. When he hit his head, gashed it open, the teachers did nothing. The schoolchildren were worried, so they put face cream in his wound to make the blood flow stop. He came home from school with a deep, open wound in his head...filled in with face cream.

This is not the first time the government schools have done nothing to help the children that I call my friends. At one point, they sent one of the children to walk home, alone, with a fever of 104F. He had malaria, and by the grace of God, one of the New Life staff happened to be driving by and took him to the hospital.

Let's get back to my little brother, Brundaban. It has gotten to the point that, if there is a small medical need, the kids will come to me first (I was wondering when that red cross course I took in high school would be useful...). Because the kids will come to me first, Momma Suphala wanted me to check on Brundabana brother. I told him to first wash the face cream out of his gash. He did, and it was so deep that Momma, Dad, Grandma, Alexis and I gasped. I told the truth, he needed to go to the hospital. If you've read any of my posts, you'll know I do not trust the hospitals in this village whatsoever...they are even more negligent than teachers in this district. We talked about it for a small amount of time and decided that I would go with Brundaban to the hospital. 

So, yes, I have lost count of how many times I have been to hospitals in Kesinga. Again, I was on my way to the hospital, this time with my little brother. The wind was blowing like crazy that day and I was having a hard time keeping the dust out of my eyes, much less keep the dust out of my brother's head. It was ridiculous. 

We arrived at the hospital, me, Brundaban and two of the driver sirs. We were then taken to a room, then another room, then another. Then another. Every doctor seemed to be 'busy', taking a nap, eating, drinking and, in general, uncaring and were unphased by the reality that there was a little boy with a huge gash in his head. 

I have never been in so many hospitals in one city, and, in that city, seen so many doctors who are so uncaring, so dark and hopeless. It is disgusting to experience. There is no compassion, no love, no heart...I have no idea how to explain it. It almost seems as if they enjoy watching people in pain...I can't understand it except for to explain that every single hospital is completely devoid of the Holy Spirit apart from the times when "those Christian people" come by.

 When we get finally got a doctor willing to take half an hour out of his time to sew up Brundaban's head, the doctor was so ungentle and my brother's screams and howls were unexplainable. The room was unsanitary (there was literally a box labeled "body parts only" right by us and dirty needles everywhere) as I watched this doctor and saw my brother, I was not disturbed by the wound but by the carelessness, heartlessness and improper medical work that was happening right in front of me.

When we got back to the car, Brundaban, despite being the toughest 11-year-old in the world, fell into my arms. My heart broke. 

I knew then that it was a reminder that, when I get home, my work isn't finished...I need to study Hindi and take medical courses. I would love to also be able to translate for other teams that may come to this district and work with New Life, and, in fact, the people at New Life are praying about one day having a hospital and a place to pray over people. 

I have been changing the dressing on Brundaban's wound every day, and today, needed to comb out his hair and, in the process, comb out chunks of blood, comb out large lice crawling about and comb out dirt and dust. While I did this, I was not disturbed, but filled with a brotherly love and talked to God quietly. Brundaban felt no pain but sat quietly, knowing he was loved by his big sister and, more importantly, loved by God. As I continued to comb, I thought, "I want to do this for the rest of my life".

I want to waste the rest of my life on Christ, loving people like crazy. I am excited to go to school, learn as much as possible and love people when I get back, whenever that may be. 

I also have no idea how to end this post. All I know is...I have been dressing cuts, tending to chemical burns (there's this type of spider here that pees on you and leaves chemical burns on your skin. It's a giant nope on eight legs), treating stomach problems and taking care of sprains and skin problems...and I love it. I love the fact that I teach computer, science and English every morning at school, tend to small medical needs when someone knocks on my door, cuddle lonely children, simply be an open ear to teenagers that need someone to talk to and pray over people in villages. I love serving Christ and His beautiful people. I am excited for whatever plans He has for me. 

That's about it. I think I need more coffee. Love you all, I will see you all soon.

Let's talk about getting sick in India/Stuff I didn't tell you all in July

Okay, so, there were a few events that happened in July that I never wrote about, mostly because I was advised not to, as it may be scary or confusing for you all back home...but I'm gonna risk it and be real with you guys.

Please keep in mind this entire post has been put off for a long time. I hope you are not offended, scared or hurt in any way, shape or form by this post. I don't think you will be, so please keep in mind that this post is not, in any way, supposed to be the most spiritual post of all time. I am a failure, I am a sinner saved by grace, I have had doubts and even anger before God. I am not perfect, and this entire post is going to be about stuff I never told you guys about in July. So, please. do not think highly of me and please recognize which portions of this post are sarcastic and in jest, as I enjoy being as silly and real as the next Christian.

Also, I want to apologize in advance that this post is going to have a lot of Zach Braff gifs, so, yeah, let's begin. Here's the truth.

Let's start with the email I sent to close friends at the end of July:

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To: Close friends only so I will not scare my supporters back home

Subject: The email about the when I was sick in India and/or how I survived the zombie shed

So sorry I have not written to you all in quite some time, I have been very busy and actually was admitted to the village hospital last week....let me explain.

I am not sure what I was sick with, but I have never been in so much pain in my life. i woke up in extreme pain and, after driving to and banging on the doors of two hospitals where there were no doctors present, I was admitted to possibly the scariest hospital in existence, which looked not unlike the very first scene of The Walking Dead, minus the whole zombie thing. There was mold damage thick on the walls and thus the room I slept in perpetually smelled of mushrooms. The bathroom of my hospital room had someone else's blood on the walls and broken light bulbs on the floor. I received 4 IVs, two injections, several pills and had my blood drawn. Despite how sketchy, unsanitary and terrifying the hospital was, I got good sleep and was too sick to care that I was in a post-apocalyptic zombie shed. Plus; I ended up feeling better after a while and the total hospital bill came to about US $2. Solid, right?

Anyways, word got out that a white woman was in the hospital and the next morning I woke up to see five or six strange men in my room along with every doctor in the hospital, staring at my paleness. One doctor was taking my blood and everyone else was just...staring. So, I just kinda said...

"hey guys! Why are you watching me get my blood vampired out by this doctor?" 

*muffled discussion* 

"so who are you guys? Why are you in my room hahaaha" 

*muffled discussion in Hindi, Oriya and English* 

*my blood starts being drawn* 

"OH HYYYYEEEEECK. That does not feel good! (Singing) WHAT CAN WASH AWAY MY SIIIIN, nothing but the blood of JEEEEESUS" 

*blinking* 

"well, it was nice meeting you all! Try not to catch whatever I have, YOU WILL END UP AS PALE AS ME HAHAHAHA" 

*muffled discussion, everyone leaves room* 

"Byeeeee friends"

So. Life has been nothing but weird and full of adventures and never boring, and I love it. I almost think this is what I am supposed to do with my life...play with kids, teach, help the helpless... especially work with kids. I have a huge place in my heart to care for these kids and I honestly can't see myself doing anything else. It is, however, emotionally, physically, spiritually and mentally exhausting....but at the end of the day, it is totally worth it.

I will be back home in November (if you haven't checked twitter, facebook or my blog, know that I have decided to stay an extra three months!), I can't afford to go right back in December...but I definitely plan on going back. Soon, some day. I am not sure how it will work out, but God has always provided and I pray it will all be clear in November what I should do. I don't doubt that my future could be taking care of kids in India, I am just not sure how it will get to that point...I should just apply for citizenship...maybe....

Although English is spoken here, not everyone is fluent and I think it would be foolish to not speak the national language, Hindi, if I were to stay. To be honest, that's my biggest goal as of now--Learn to speak Hindi fluently. Granted, I am having a very hard time even trying to memorize the alphabet in Hindi...it's going to take a very long time, but that's my first priority in figuring out the whole of what I should really do with my life.

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So, July was terrifying. I am not sure what I was sick with (I did, however, in addition to taking as much pain medication as possible for what felt like thousands of swords stabbing my whole body... also have to take medicine to rid of ulcers, which was not fun at all) and I realized how much there is a need for good doctors for the surrounding village areas in Kesinga...Which made me decide to take nursing courses next Fall (we'll get to that at the end of this post, with more Zach Braff gifs)...But anyways, it was extremely difficult for me spiritually. 

Let me explain.

I spent a lot of time away from teaching in school, I was in bed, in pain and confused in a country that I had only known for one month of my life. I stared at the ceiling, questioning my decision to come to India, questioning why I left my job for this, why I left my family for this, why I left my friends for this, why I decided to live in a country where I still did not understand the customs, language and the culture. I couldn't sleep at night because I had either slept all day or I was crying, asking God why I had gotten sick, asking Him why He took me away from my home and everyone I loved to live in a country that I did not understand yet. I had a lot of doubts, a lot of fears and had no idea why God brought me to India. I wanted to go back home. I asked God so many questions that month, said so many prayers starting with "it's not fair"....

"It's not fair that I can't go anywhere without a man undressing me with his eyes" 

"It's not fair that women are so disrespected here" 

"It's not fair that there is so much poverty, sickness, abuse and rape here and it feels like there is nothing I can do about it" 

"It's not fair that I can't go anywhere by myself" 

"It's not fair that I have to do everything I do with a man making sure I am safe" 

"It's not fair that I am sick in a country that I am not even sure why God brought me here why did I come what is the point there has got to be a reason why You put me here in the middle of nowhere"

"It's not fair that I am only one person, what good can I even do here"

Heck, when you are sick, all you want is to be home, hugging your mom, eating cheese (cheese doesn't exist here) and watching Netflix (Netflix doesn't exist here...ya missionary girl has been torrenting all of her movies for the kids, like a modern-day Robin Hood, obviously). Granted, I had anger towards God's plan. I was selfish. I was in pain... but I was selfish. Selfish, angry, confused.

This taught me many things that I would not have learned if I had not gotten sick. This taught me many things that I would not have learned if I hadn't seen the state of the surrounding village hospitals.

Here are some things I learned.

1. The hospitals and doctors offices in this district are just.... less than great. 

The hospitals and doctors offices are terrifying. They are unsanitary. They are unfocused. The doctors may not even be present because they are taking a 3-hour nap. I am fairly certain that Harvard Degree on the wall is not real. They administer "injections" for everyone who walks in. Literally...for EVERYTHING. Have a cut? Injection. Have a bruise? Injection. You've been pooping for four days straight and can't stop? Injection. (that final one will happen to you if you live in India. it's gonna happen, it usually stops after about three months of living here when you body gets used to the food. Granted, it'll take about 3 months until you are finally solid. You have been warned.) have a cold? Injection. Have a headache? Injection. It's terrifying and unnecessary. Aside from this district's strange affection for needles and naps, I hate how, if you are white, you get top priority. There's a foreigner here? Let's gawk at them and ignore the other patient who clearly  has not had anesthesia properly administered. There was one point where I was playing outside with my kids and an ambulance was either on their way to pick up a person in physical danger or on already carrying a person in physical danger, when, upon seeing me, a white person, they stopped the ambulance, turned off the siren and flashing lights and took pictures of me instead of taking care of the person in danger. 

It's just terrifying.

2. I found that I had a lot of basic nursing skills.

I realized how many basic nursing skills I had. There was one point that I realized this before, when I visited Kenya, Africa. I had brought just about every single available type of over-the-counter medication, just in case if anyone one my short-term team was sick or injured. By the end of the trip, the majority of my team would say, "Brooke has meds for that" for just about everything. Now, after being in India for almost half a year, I have taught the kids how to take care of an outbreak of conjunctivitis ("pink eye"/the inflammation of the conjunctiva), told one of the staff to visit the doctor for blood sugar problems just by looking at her feet (she went to the doctor and she did, in fact, have blood sugar and blood pressure problems), helped a short term team when one of their teammates passed out and told them why she passed out (she needed glucose, she had skipped breakfast that day), taken care of burns, spider bites, deep wounds and even acne...  I realized I was pretty decent at basic nursing skills. It has gotten to the point that the kids will knock on my door whenever a minor problem comes across. However....after bandaging 5 of my boys this morning, I think we need to have a sit down and have a talk about how we should not run through needle-shaped plants. 

3. I am only one person. I can't change the world and I can't expect myself to. 

I wrote about this before, but, God made it very clear when He told me this:

"Stop looking at the world and saying, "how can I make the world a better place?" Instead, look at the people around you and see their great need for Me."

The reason I exist and the reason I am in India or around the world is because I exist to make His name great. His name needs to be made great...Not the name of Brooke, not the name of Christianity, not in the name of good deeds or "good for the sake of being good", not in the name of "changing the world." 1 Corinthians 10:31 says "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." I am to glorify Him and Him alone. I can't do anything without Him, so I shouldn't even try to!

Okay, I think we have reached the end of this post. It's taken me a very long time to publish any of this, I have taken five hours out of my day to write blog posts and I reaaaaaaaally hope you guys like this. I'm gonna go eat some masala puffed rice. So, yeah. I hope you liked this blog post. Byeee.

When you say yes

As I write this, I have 49 days until I return to America. It's terrifying, but it's gonna be ok.

The more I say "yes" to God's plans, the more excited I am for the future despite how much it scares me. I need to go through the desert (wake tech) before I can get to the promised land (the mission field)...haha. That comparison makes me giggle.

Anyways, now that I have said YES I am very excited to work as hard as possible in the states, study Hindi and earn a nursing degree. It is going to be very hard, but I honestly look forward to it.

I have been talking to my lovely host Momma, Suphala, about how I thought God wanted me in college and then to return to India. Among her wise advice shared with chai was the encouragement to go earn a degree, despite how scared I am. She reassured me that God was not finished with me yet and the future is exciting and something to look forward to!

America will be my boot camp for the mission field. I need to become fluent in Hindi and work hard. I need to earn my degree and become a better person. I need to spend more time in prayer, more time in meditation before the Lord, more time away from the mission field to become more and more like Him as I conform to His image.

     On most Sundays, I will watch the Summit Church's sermons online. JD Greer used this quote by Billy Graham that spoke very loudly to me and reinforced God's plan:

“If I had to do it over again... I would spend more time in spiritual nurture, seeking to grow closer to God so I could become more like Christ. I would spend more time in prayer... I would spend more time studying the Bible and meditating on its truth, not only for sermon preparation but for life.”

-Billy Graham

I am far from ready to live in India full-time. I am far from being the woman God wants me to be before I live here. I need to focus on Him, study hard, learn as much as possible, work harder, pray more, read His love letter, the Bible, as often as possible... Despite living here for almost half a year, I realize I am not at all prepared to stay yet, I need more training before I enter the battlefield.

"Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." James 1:4

So, yeah. let's go to America. Let's do this.

for lack of a better title

Nothing depresses me more than the thought of being away from all these kids...the reality that I need to go to college depresses me more than I can say. I am fairly positive that God wants me to study nursing and Hindi...and then I can come back to Orissa as the nurse and continue teaching science. But--that still requires me to be in America for a few years. Away from these kids. It breaks my heart into a million pieces and I will be very depressed when I return. Many of the little ones have ceased to call me sister (a very common name for a girl or unmarried woman in india) and have instead called me "mom". One of the little girls came up to me, sat on my lap, told me she "I do not have a mommy. You are my mom" and promptly kissed me on the nose. Leaving these children will hurt me.

When I return, it will be freezing (to me--as I have been in hot weather for months and months) and Christmas time. I want to be real with you all in saying that the most depressing month of the year for me is Christmastime. I hate Christmastime. Allow me to explain...

I have always associated Christmastime with fear, anger and hurt. Many things that have seemed to 'go wrong' always ended up happening in the winter time. Not only that, but the materialism and commercialism of Christmas has always hurt my heart. There is also a sense of 'goodwill' and constant, elevated 'Christmas Joy' that I, with depression and anxiety, can never maintain. Why is this 'goodwill' and 'giving' attitude so high in America only during this season? Yearly it hurts my heart to watch. In addition, cold weather always makes me depressed. When India will have painfully hot, sweaty, dusty day, I won't lie--it is a little miserable--but it is nothing compared to how much I hate the cold, hate snow, hate the gray, colorless winter. I suppose this is because I was born in New York and I have grown tired of the snow lingering around like a guest that doesn't get the hint that I'm tired and they should go home now. I just...I hate winter.

I have had a lot of trouble sleeping. I keep having vivid flashbacks to North Carolina-- almost out of body--when I close my eyes to sleep, I see Holly Springs, Apex, Raleigh, Cary, my office, my house, my car, my best friend's house, even concert venues and my cat...in such great, vivid detail, almost as if I am there. It really freaks me out, I know that it is normal for a person changing cultures and I have read about how this can happen to missionaries, but I still hate it. It is a little freaky and it makes it very hard to sleep...I ask that, when you get the chance, please pray that I can sleep at night.

I will be a mess when I get home. I want to prepare you all for the mess that I will be in a few weeks. India is my home. India is where I plan on spending the rest of my life--surrounded by little children that have never had a mommy, fixing wounds, teaching students so hungry for a teacher that understands them and won't hit them, teaching children so desperate for as much knowledge as possible...

India is home, but I must come to my country for a few years. Please understand the hurt I am feeling and please realize I will be, as my dad says, 'a hurtin' cowboy' when I get back. (I don't know where my dad got this phrase, but t cracks me up even thinking of him saying it)

I love you guys. See you soon.

Brain/Heart

I want to be real with you all. I am pretty depressed.
But...Jonah-Depressed.
Allow me to explain.

Within the first three verses of the book of Jonah, God tells Jonah to go to a land that Jonah cannot stand and Jonah tells God no. He then, on his own strength and power, goes in the opposite direction that God wanted. Then, a few verses later, a large fish (commonly referred to as "whale") gets involved and it is super awkward for everybody. Jonah gets to Ninevah, the place God wanted him to be, and Jonah then gets depressed that he doesn't get to see the city blow up and gets so childishly angry when a plant dies, etc.

I am Jonah. I am impatient. I get upset over stupid, small, trivial things. I get upset when God says "Go".

Where is God telling me to go?
America.

What.

I am fairly certain that it is God's will for me to stay in America longer, start college courses, learn Hindi and further prepare myself for a life of ministry in India, but that involves living in America, which is out of my comfort zone. Yeah, America is out of my comfort zone. I feel at home in India, I feel like I belong here, and the idea of staying in America any longer makes me stupidly, irrationally upset.

Upon hearing that Jonah must go to Ninevah, Jonah feels upset, and I am sure he thought, "No, God! No! I've been avoiding Ninevah my entire life!!"
Upon hearing God, several times, speak to me about His plans, I keep thinking, "No, God! No! I've been avoiding Wake Tech my entire life!!"

Hahaha. Yeeeeeeah.

But...here's the thing. This is God's desire. If it is, indeed, His desire, I will go. I will go without shaking my fists. I will suppress my irrational anger and depression. I need to go where he takes me.

Sorry this post was short, but I really needed to get this out of my brain/heart. Love you guys.

My little brothers have a new room!

My little brothers have a new room!

This is not a phrase you would normally say with happy tears in your eyes, great joy in your heart and a big, stupid smile on your face--but that is exactly how I am saying it right now.

For the last few months, my little brothers, my Indian little brothers, have been in a tight, overcrowded, hardly ventilated bedroom. They have not had their own beds but have been sharing several shoved-together bunk beds. Their room was so poorly ventilated that it could reach temperatures of 110F at night...some nights they would sleep on the hot concrete outside instead.

But, several amazing friends from GHI supported the need to give my brothers a new room!! 

Let me tell you about this awesome new room:

1) They have their own bunks. Several little boys and several teenage boys are not sharing a continuous, over-crowded line of bunk beds...they have their own mattresses! 

2) Fans! They have fans! No more nights spent outside to cool down.

3) Windows and ventilation! The old room was very claustrophobic and stuffy. Now these guys will get clean air, not recycled, hot stuffy air.

4) Storage space!! There is storage space for all the boys' things, clothes and birthday presents :-)

5) Space. There is enough space to move around, chill out, study, play games.

6) Drinking water! The boys would often need to take a small trek across the compound to get to drinking water if they became thirsty at night. Now they can simply get out of bed, drink some water, go to sleep. 

Here are some photos!!

I love it when a plan comes together.

"I love it when a plan comes together" -Hannibal, The A-Team

Buuuuuuuut that's rarely how life works. 

My schedule looks like this is supposed to look like this:

8:00- Breakfast
9:00- Bible Time
10:40- Fifth Grade Science
11:20- Study Hindi
12:15- Fifth Grade English
1:00- Lunch
2:00- Study Hindi
3:00- Hindi Lessons
4:30- Karate (I can explain...this may become a blog post of it's own soon. Maybe.)
6:00- Computer lab
7:00- Prayer
8:00- Dinner

9:00- Study Hindi

Instead, it normally looks like this:

8:00- 
Sleep through breakfast because I stayed up until 2am grading papers, grading exams, setting up lesson plans...At home, i was a morning person. Here, I am always overworking into the night. It's not totally healthy, but that's how it is. Besides, I have coffee now, so...Staying up late isn't too bad...Right? Right??...
9:00- 
Bible time...albeit quick since I may have slept through breakfast and one of the little children may need cuddles and kisses on the head... anyways, I need as much as the spirit as possible before I stand in front of an army of 25 screaming, yelling, goofy, wonderful fifth graders.
10:40- 
Fifth grade science. Possibly my favorite part of the day, to be honest. I had no idea that I had such a passion for teaching, being goofy and real with these crazy, silly, creative kids. I could never imagine having an entire class that is amazing at art, talented in singing and dancing, love to read, love to learn and are all, amazingly, right-brained and visual learners like myself. 
  I often had many problems with my grades due to the fact that I am right-brained and have ADHD along with its accompanying learning problems. In Indian schools, right-brained kids may be extremely misunderstood since the majority of Indian schooling is repeating/memorizing facts, never asking questions, never answering questions for fear of being slapped, or, God forbid, you voice your own opinion or even think for yourself. I hate to say that, but it is true. School here is mostly parroting facts and strict, yelling, slapping teachers. Granted, not all the teachers are this way, but I realize how much the kids learn more when you respect them as if they were not lower than you are, treat them as you would treat your peers but let them be kids, let them be creative and unique. 
  I will quote Katie Davis on this (author of "Kisses from Katie"...check our her website: http://katiedavis.amazima.org/), that "I cannot change [the country], but educated children could." 

  I realize the huge need for the Holy Spirit in Indian schools. In schools that are in tight, hardly-ventilated, claustrophobic, sweaty classrooms, they need Christ. In my teaching, I often can make certain points such as the fact that, no matter who a person is, no matter their "caste", people need to be loved. In a country where the caste system is still, unfortunately, used and sometimes even prevents children from education, prevents some children from school lunches, children need to know that God doesn't separate people into castes. God doesn't see women as less valuable than men. God doesn't hate people with AIDS or Leprosy. Through teaching science, I can teach about how beautiful creation is and how humans, God's masterpieces, need to be respected and loved and cared for. Every single person is important. Through teaching, I am showing them that, not only are they important, but selflessness is to be admired. Progress can only happen when people see the need to care for each other. "Even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." (Matthew 20:28). I know that this went down a bit of a rabbit trail...but...I feel like it was important.

11:20- 
Study Hindi. I am really working my hardest to learn Hindi as soon as possible. It has been so much harder than I ever imagined. I ask that you pray for me as this is very difficult and stressful.
12:15- 
Fifth Grade English. I still need to come up with more lesson plans, but, for most of their studies...I will be printing out comic book excerpts. Mostly because it's fun. Yeah.
1:00- 
LUUUUUNCH!!!!!!!! Man, there are no words to explain how much I love eating Indian food every day. YES. It is the best.
2:00- 
Study Hindi. Study, study, study! 
3:00- 
Hindi Lessons. My teacher is 15 and infinitely more mature and more intelligent than I am. His name is Khushi (Pronounced as "Coo-See", it is Hindi for "happy") and he has become like a little brother to me. He selflessly teaches me Hindi as much as possible and dishes out some pretty challenging homework (seriously though...). He takes so much time out for teaching me, I am so thankful. In return, I asked him if he'd like to learn how to play guitar. Of course, he said yes. Within the first lesson that I gave him this week, I introduced him to music theory and he can play the G, C, E and F chords. He's only been playing for two days. What even. What. Even. He is so smart. I almost envy the reality that my little brother is talented in everything and super smart. What even. Yeah. 
4:30- 
During this time, I am either teaching guitar to Khushi or the entire compound is taking karate classes. This is a recent addition to the schedule and has proven to not only build muscles I didn't know I had, but also I can't move today, so...yeeeeah. Taking a break from karate today.
6:00- 
Computer lab. I am teaching all of the kids at the hostel/orphanage how to use computers. Most of them have never used computers before and this is really exciting for them. Often, with the little girls, after their lessons, I am told "thank you" over and over and covered in kisses and hugs. It is a daily reminder of my need to be here.
7:00- 
Prayer. Every single day, the kids will worship and pray to the Lord together. I have never been to a worship service so beautiful... so many languages (Oriya, English, Hindi, sometimes Telugu or Tamil), so many beautiful, happy tears, hands raised, children falling to their knees and hearing my 71 little sisters and little brothers praying all at once, New-Testament-style, shouts of worship and praise for the Lamb of God. In many cases, this daily act of selfless, genuine worship could confuse or even disgust American Christians. This saddens me. How can you not fall to your knees, coated in tears, hands raised to the God who was murdered for you? No God is like our God. There is no rock like our God. I treasure the time I spend worshiping with my 71 brothers and sisters. 
8:00- 
DINNERRRRR!!!/Watch Indian soap operas with my two host sisters and my host mom. I love my two sisters, Christy and Justy! Christina, 10, and Justina, 8, are young but act older and have become some of the best friends I have ever had. They are goofy, silly and I can be myself with them. I love them as if they were my own little sisters and love the reality that, despite their age, I can be real with them and have deeper conversations with them. My host mom, Suphala, is amazing. She has become my second mom and is one of the most beautiful people I know. I truly value the time that my "little sisters" and my "mom" spend during dinner because they are so special to me. I love them so much and we have so much fun by simply watching TV together. 

9:00- 
Study Hindi AGAIN. I have never been so faithful to studying before. It is God helping me through this...because I am easily distracted. Hahaha. This time may go until midnight or later because I will be distracted I will be working soooo harddddd. Mostly.

This is how the average weekday works out for me. I wouldn't have it any other way. I love the fact that my daily task is to out-love everyone around me and make people happy. Granted, most of the schedule may be beautifully interrupted by needing to spend time one-on-one with one of the teenagers because they need someone to talk to, one of the little ones may need a boo-boo bandaged and kissed, someone may need help with something, someone may be crying due to having a bad day and just need someone to bring them cookies and a hug. 

There is never a second I am doing nothing or sitting still-- and I love it!!

Today is the day I was supposed to be home.

August 12th, 2014. Today is the day I was supposed to be home. God had other plans. Plans that I am still trying to accept and realize that they are for His glory, regardless of my opinion of His perfect plan.

Today, I am in bed. I am sick again. I have not been vocal on my blog about the reality that I have gotten sick here and needed to see a doctor 4 times. I am not sure why this keeps happening, but God is good. It is still hard, though...not only physically but emotionally as well. Being sick has given me a lot of time to think, although...often overthink. God has revealed a lot in my life while I have been sick, so it has been worth it.

Over the past few weeks of going in and out of health, God has made it incredibly obvious that I should be going to college to learn Hindi. Crazy and as specific as that is, I have been praying that God would reveal what I need to do after this trip. When I first got here, I had no idea why God brought me to live in India for what I thought would only be two months. Now, God told me to stay longer....until Thanksgiving. Now, He is telling me that India isn't over for me yet. He wants me to learn the language...Not only know how to speak it, but to read and write it as well. 

First things first: I have avoided college like the plague. I have never liked the idea of college. I have had a very nice, full-time graphics design job back home that I started working at when I was 17 years old. I had it all figured out, I was "great" without an education, a free spirit (which really just means "untethered annoyance to others") that was so independent at such a young age. Heck, there was even a guy I wanted to marry. I had a lot of pride in my life... But God so graciously took everything away. (I have described this in fuller detail in my post "The Beauty in Being Alone")

God is making this more and more obvious that this is what He wants. When I get home, I need to start thinking about what colleges to apply to. I am not sure what I will do in between the time I am waiting for either a spring or a fall semester to start, but God knows what He's doing, so I'll just follow.

One of my stupid worries is that, because I am 21 and may be 22 when I start college, that I'll be this old person among 17 and 18 year olds. It's a stupid worry, but it is a ever-so-present worry. 

I am not sure where I am going with this post...What do I write next...Blah. Thoughts. Blahhh.

I am hoping that I can go to college and then the summers can be spent serving the amazing kids here at New Life Orissa. 

I wish you guys knew it takes about two to three hours to write a blog post...sometimes even 2 days...I really want to keep you guys connected even though it's hard on me. I miss you all so terribly. 

I don't know what else to write, so I may as well post this. I love you guys. Pray for the next three months that I will be here! I need my prayer warriors fighting for me. I love you guys.