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As I exited the plane from Chicago in Delhi, I was greeted by a large tourism sign “Incredible India.” Little did I know how truly incredible my experience would be. In·cred·i·ble –adjective 1. So extraordinary as to seem impossible 2. hard to believe; unbelievable. 3. So implausible as to elicit disbelief.
4. Astonishing.
The sights, sounds and smells
As we loaded our 15 member team and our luggage on the bus, my senses were jarred awake, never to rest for the next ten days. Hazy and humid, the evening air in Delhi was heavy. It smelled of smoke, diesel fumes and sweat. I was surrounded by thousands of people in the airport and on the sidewalks. Taxis, cars, buses jammed together waiting to transport the crowds. The airport roads led to highways filled with traffic traveling on the “left” side. Moving quickly with unexpected aggression our bus pressed ahead and passed other vehicles. Through the hazy yellow glow of headlights and signs it delivered us in front of our first hotel.
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Every morning our bus would transport us for 30 to 90 minutes down small dirt roads, across wooden bridges and beside vast tea gardens or fields being plowed with oxen. During the five days of focused ministry, we entered villages where people lived in bamboo houses with thatch roofs and cooked in cast iron pots over open fires. Cows, pigs, chickens and goats roamed everywhere. The scents of plowed soil, smoke and manure mixed with the cool fresh breeze.
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They were our partners and translators as we entered villages where we would meet people in their homes and discuss their culture and spiritual beliefs. The people of the villages were very interested to meet and talk with “the Americans.”
Extraordinary, incredible story
In a village of tea garden workers, I was able to talk with one group of about 25 people. Men, women and children surrounded me as I asked them about their work in harvesting tea. I told them of my work as a young man on the farm and how often I thought about God when working on a farm. I asked if I could tell them the story about the One True God who created the heavens and earth and all the animals and men. As they nodded, many of them sat down around me to listen… (more details on the story later)
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We prayed with them, recorded their names and gave them scriptures in their language. Then we proceeded to other homes in the village. A few hours later, as we were walking back near their home, one of the women greeted us on the road and held out a gift for me. She held a tattered piece of paper wrapped around some dried tea they harvested. Through my translator
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The harvest in India
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I stood on a path looking across acres of rice fields surrounding me all ready for cultivation. Later I stood at the edge of a vast tea garden with lush green bushes that stretched as far as I could see. The tender tea leaves were ready for the first harvest. How could all this work be done? How many workers would it take to cultivate the fields and harvest the tea?
The same question resonated in my head about the spiritual harvest of souls. How could all the people who were ready to listen hear the story of Jesus?
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