Photo Credit: David Hare

The best part?

YOU.

Opening doors of freedom with us. Because you were praying. I knew you were praying. I saw you praying.

“How?” you might ask. I saw the Spirit move ahead of us, making a way, forging relationships that only He can build.

We stepped on tightly lashed bamboo poles, walking gingerly through narrow hallways, passing babies…women….and up cement stairs. On the rooftop, we take in the overflowing Ganges river that has washed away 2/3 of the brothel we are standing on. Cement structures are being built so they can be more permanent. The water is brown and around our little view are women washing clothes, wringing clothes, life is teeming at a pace I don’t understand, all around.

Ganges River (Photo Credit: David Hare)

I look out over the ganges and pray. My arms hug my sides, hoping that one act alone will hold in all the emotion I feel at what I have seen, what I am standing on, and what is happening all around me. Our small team circles up and one by one, we begin to pray.

It is the best part.

I see ahead at how the very place I am standing on will be a place of peace. A place of dignity and fair labor. A place where women are laughing and children are thriving. A place of freedom. We pray for the Lord to call out those, even now, who He knows are to be here. For a person of peace that will make a way for freedom, on behalf of those, even now, trapped in the sex trade below my very feet.

Tears course down my cheeks, on my neck, on the cement floor below, but my heart rejoices. He is here. He has not forgotten these women, their children, and these precious lives. We have come, that He might come. I know one day soon, I will visit again and there will be a freedom business where I stand.

And that is the best part.

There is an unexpected ending as we end our prayer time. The madame of the brothel comes up with tea cups and asks us to have chai. We all accept and drink, stunned at this modest gesture. We have had tea in many places already throughout the trip, but THIS is the one tea cup I want to keep. I try to tuck it in my hand, but as custom allows, they are all gathered and thrown back into the river. They are made of clay and have one use-to be used and disposed. We are here for a different use-to be used by Him and have others know that He has not disposed of them, but has come to give life. A chat begins with the madame about her story and how she wants freedom. Not just for her, but the hundreds she is over.

I look out across the river again and smile. He HAS come. In the most unexpected way.

And that is the best part.

Thank you for your prayers. They were sustaining and life giving. You were a part of freedom that day and are a part of the freedom story now-all because you prayed.

Thank you.

2 thoughts on “India {the best part}

  1. John V Thomas,

    Wow Kristi – you were crying, what about us as we read this stunningly written amazing story of God’s Grace and Hope. Thank-you for what you are doing.

  2. Comment author Kristi,

    John, you are so gracious. It is all Him. All for His splendor. Thank you, my friend. Blessings to you and CONGRATS on that new beautiful grandson :).

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