Not the Valentine's Day Post!

It seems that all my friends have babies, are getting married, getting engaged or in a relationship and I am totally ok and happy about that. I'm not sad about being "alone" at all. Alone doesn't exist for me, I have Jesus, a suitcase and coffee, I can do anything. I'd love to be married one day, but travel is such a beautiful romance and I really, really love being single for that reason. I just really enjoy being "untethered", I guess. I'd love to find someone else that'd enjoy floating about aimlessly like an untied balloon with me or whatever, but I don't think that will happen anytime soon and I'm totally okay with that... and happy. 

The world keeps saying over and over that I need sex to be happy. From the Christian side, it's the never ending assumption that I'll disregard my passions, fall in love and settle down with a man's dreams, not mine. No man wants to follow a woman's calling, do they? Why not? 

I don't understand why the Christian community is so concerned about marriage and assume that I am sad that I am unmarried. We, as Christians, need to QUIT acting as if singleness was the unforgivable sin. Paul was single. Heck, Jesus Himself was single. 

Here's my main point. I'm not sad or depressed or angry. I'm not angry or depressed about being single, but I wouldn't mind not being single. You get it? I can be single and happy and still want something. It is possible to want something and not be angsty, mad, jealous or passive-aggressive before I have it.  I don't need to be jealous over my friends and I'm not. 

I don't need a passive-aggressive attitude towards Valentine's day. Why? My friends are happy and that makes me happy. 

For example, someone, somewhere, could be eating a really, really delicious snack. Right now. Someone could be eating a great snack right now. Without me. Without my permission. Just, like, totally enjoying a snack right now. And not me. And you know what? I'm not mad about that. I don't need to be. It'd be ridiculous.

It's okay to enjoy being single but not want to remain single forever. It's a pretty basic concept. It's okay to be happy to not eat a really great snack but still maybe want a snack later. 

Anyways, Happy Valentine's Day to all of you, whatever path you are on right now.

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.