This will be perhaps a rather more reflective post as my trip draws towards its close and I look back over the past two and a half weeks. My real desire in coming here was to spend time with the girls in the home. Of all the Karuna Action projects in which I’ve taken an interest over the years, none has moved me like this one, and here is where I wanted to be.
So while it’s been great to be able to make a positive contribution in the schools, especially with the kids with learning disabilities, it’s here in this home that I’ll be leaving a chunk of my heart behind – at least until next time I come, hopefully next year.
Before I came, Martin prophesied over me that I would leave something behind and come home lighter. I had no idea what that meant, but it resonated in my heart as something I really wanted. Now, towards the end of the trip, I understand it more.
Back in June of 2006 there came a day when I had no choice but to ask Andrew to move out of our house. I went into shock (those who knew me at the time, though they had no idea what was going on at home, will have observed me lose four and a half stone in three months, the effects of the shock). And from that day onwards, I feel as if a cloud of fog descended over my life, which has never really lifted. All my emotions have felt muted, including my feelings towards God, and all the colour had gone out of life, and that was reinforced by the subsequent events of being forced into a divorce I didn’t want and the shock of Andrew’s sudden death last year.
When I shared my testimony with the girls the other night, and saw God at work in their responses to it, I suddenly realised that this fog had lifted – I don’t know exactly when or how it has happened, but something has lifted from me and my heart feels free again. I felt so much joy sharing what God has done, and seeing the Holy Spirit at work in those who listened. Somewhere along the way here in India I have put down a burden.
I feel as if for the past few years I haven’t been seeing anything truly clearly, not even Jesus. I’ve seen for sure His love and comfort, His care and provision for me, miracle after miracle of financial provision, and all my needs have been taken care of. But that’s only one half of what I used to see in Jesus. The other half – His greatness and majesty, His glory and victory – had got lost in the fog.
Through everything that’s happened here, including the illness, which has all been part of a seamless whole of what God’s been doing, that missing half of the picture has been restored to me. I’ve rediscovered a dimension of worship that I’d lost, of honouring and loving Him for all that He is, not just for what He’s done for me.
Well, I said this was going to be a more reflective piece, and there it is. As I said, I’m leaving a huge chunk of my heart with these beautiful girls, who have faced the worst that man can do and yet can sing and dance about the freedom they now enjoy, and already I’m making plans to come back when I can.