The train left Chennai at 6:00 PM Wednesday, Nov 26. It was supposed to arrive at a station that was only an hour drive from Razole at 4:00 AM. But the train was delayed in route and we did not arrive until 5:00 AM.
Because it was an overnight trip, Sharath booked us in the air conditioned sleeper car. It was much more comfortable than the regular train, having only four people to a compartment instead of eight to twelve. The seats and the rack above the seats pull down to become upper and lower "cots" for four people to sleep on. There is even a little curtain that is supposed to separate your compartment from the main aisle of the train. Of course, the curtain never stays in place and your "private" compartment is actually quite public, and people are constantly milling past your compartment. By Indian standards, this was a very comfortable way to travel. Unfortunately, I was not raised in India and did not find it all that comfortable.
When we first left the station, we began a friendly conversation. The man on the bunk across from mine was a very educated doctor who spoke about 6 languages (including English). The other man in our compartment did not speak English, so he mostly observed the conversation between Sharath, the doctor and myself. At first it was a very friendly and pleasant trip. The doctor was very accomplished and a bit boastful. Something fleshly rose up in me that made me want to impress him as well. After a while it came up that he was a camera buff and he wanted to know if I was into photography. I told him that I did not know much about cameras because I used to model, so I was used to being on the other side of a camera. This is true, I did some modeling as a teenager. But because that carnal thing rose up (remember I was really tired, so I offer that as a meager excuse as to why), I sort of exaggerated and made it sound like I was much more of a model than I really had been.
Suddenly the doctor changed the conversation to American politics and the war on terrorism -- his thinking on that topic was heavily influenced by his French friends. I told him that I was not willing to discuss or debate American politics when I traveled internationally. That did not stop him from sharing his views.
It was as if he transformed from Doctor Jeckle to Mr Hyde. He became very hostile and attacking and critical of Americans and of the American war on terrorism. He was rude and derogatory and kept putting Americans down. Now, I never express my own political opinions because I am God's spokesperson and I desire to speak for Him instead of for myself but I am rather patriotic. Like most Americans, I tend to strongly support our troops overseas and I am very grateful to them for risking their life in pursuit of my own liberty and safety. It really bothered me to listen to him insulting and attacking the things I valued and making light of the men and women who laid down their lives to defend their country. He painted us as mobsters trying to bully Iraq and pointed out how futile our efforts where. He accused us of killing thousands of innocent civilians and all of that being in vain since Saddam Hussein was still free [that was to change on Saturday, Dec 14, but none of us knew it at that time.]
He kept saying "no offense but..." and then would proceed to say something very offensive and derogatory about Americans. I remained silent during this. It went on for over 45 minutes and then drifted from politics to other ways to put Americans down. He painted himself as an expert on American thinking and lifestyle and then proceeded to describe many things very inaccurately. He made several crude jokes at our expense and Sharath (the Indian minister I was traveling with) was laughing at them and enjoying them. That made it even worse. I had to bite my tongue a few times but I knew that if I was to be God's representative, I could not be drawn into a defense of the strongly anti-American sentiments that he expressed. It was almost like torture. After an hour I could not bare it any more, so I pulled out my CD walkman and a scripture CD and began to listen to that.
After it was clear I dropped out of the conversation, they switched to Telegu (the language Indians spoke in that State) and began a rather animated conversation with the man who did not speak English. I have no idea what they were talking about and I did not care to know. I had felt so attacked the past hour, and I was glad the conversation had shifted.
"Lord," I prayed silently, "that was hideous. I thought You were protecting me on this trip. Why did You let that happen to me? Couldn't You have directed the conversation some other direction?"
"Teresa," the Lord replied. "You know there is a lot of spiritual warfare related to this trip. And if you want My protection, then you need to walk in My holiness. When you exaggerated and boasted about being a model, that lifted part of My covering over you. That is what made it possible for the enemy to attack you by steering the conversation to anti-American sentiment." God went on to tell me that if I wanted His protective covering over the rest of the trip, I must walk in holiness and obey Him. That was a sobering eye opener for me!
As it got later in the air conditioned compartment, I began to get cold. They had given each of us a blanket and a pillow for our sleeper car. So I pulled my blanket out and wrapped it around my shoulders.
The previously hostile doctor was suddenly concerned for my well-being. "You're cold?" he asked. Then he wanted to turn the compartment's fan off so I would not be so cold. I told him that I was fine with the blanket and that I did not want to make the others uncomfortable or hot by turning off the fan. But he insisted on turning off the fan, saying that they could always turn it back on again if it got too warm. The fan stayed off the rest of the night. When we pulled down the cots and converted the compartment to four beds, the men all slept with their blankets off. But none of them wanted to turn the fan back on because they were concerned that I would be too cold. What a change from the earlier anti-American sentiment!
Even though the train would not arrive at our station until 5 AM, Sharath got me up at 4 AM to move our luggage to near the exit so we could get off quickly when we arrived at our station. (the train was only stopping there for 2 minutes, so we had to be at the door with our luggage when it stopped at the platform.) Starting that early might have bothered me if I had been sleeping. But the train is very noisy and bumpy and I was unable to sleep anyhow. I had spent the time listening to Bible CDs on my walkman and had covered Genesis, Exodus and a good portion of Deuteronomy. So we spent the last 40 minutes of the trip standing near the exit with our luggage. The two porters assigned to our car were fascinated that I was a foreigner and kept trying to talk to me during that time in very broken English.
Once we were off the train, a car met us at the station, and we began the final hour of my journey to Razole. I left my home at 9 PM on Sunday Nov 23 (California time) and I did not arrive until 6 AM on Thursday, Nov 27 (India time). It was almost a 71 hour trip for me, and I had less than 6 hours sleep that whole time I was traveling.
I was welcomed with a traditional lai of flowers and warm hugs from Shanti (Sharath's wife) and their youngest son (also named Shanti). After initial greetings I was shown to my room. Sharath and his family live in two rooms of their small bible college campus. They are still building but currently there are 4 dorm rooms that house 15 students, plus a kitchen and dining room and the church building that also serves as the classroom. Sharath and Shanti gave me their bedroom as the place for me to stay .. I was very touched because they were offering me the very best they had, and they moved into their son's bedroom (a connecting room) for the duration of my stay. They don't have much by way of material possessions, but they have a very nice bed with a beautiful wooden bed frame and it has a frame for a mosquito net. The mosquito net is very necessary for Westerners in India, because they don't use glass on their windows (there is no need to keep the cold out because it never gets cold in India).
They have a string of outdoor toilets and showers. One of the toilets was western style (where you sit on it) and the other three where India style where you squat over it. They produced a row of toilet paper for me (Indians don't usually use toilet paper) and told me that I had exclusive use of the western toilet. That was a pretty big sacrifice for them since about 35 pastors and their families were staying in the 4 bedrooms along with the 15 bible college students and a few staff members. (I am not sure, but I think some of them may have been sleeping in the church at night.) Over 75 people were sharing three toilets so I could have exclusive use of my own toilet. That was quite a sacrifice for them.
The room I had been given was such a nice room, the nicest in the whole complex. I felt a bit guilty about displacing Sharath and Shanti from their bedroom and about taking exclusive use of one of the toilets. I was considering saying something to them about that when God spoke to me.
"Teresa, don't you dare! You are here as My prophet and My representative -- as one who has come in My name. These people are not making these sacrifices for your sake, but for My sake, to honor Me. You, as My representative, will receive the honors they are giving Me. This is done as unto Me and since you are My representative, you will receive it in My name. And I will reward them accordingly."
Wow, I had never looked at it that way before.
I was given an hour to rest while they prepared breakfast. Then I was called in for breakfast. It was about 7:30 AM. I was informed that I was to begin teaching my first class at 10 AM that day, for the pastors and bible college students. Whoa, I had just traveled 71 hours with almost no sleep and now I was expected to preach and minister less than for hours after arriving. That was a really demanding schedule. I was so tired I could hardly think. I threw up a silent prayer, "Lord, You're going to have to help me. I can't do this on my own."
"You were never supposed to do this on your own," the Lord replied. "you must be totally dependent on Me and allow Me to set My agenda and to work My glory through you."
That set the tone for me -- This is God's trip and His work and I am His representative. That became my prayer for the rest of the trip, "Lord, help me to be a good representative for You, to do only what You are doing and to do it in a way that pleases You, so You might want to use me again later on." I cannot tell you how many times I prayed that prayer during this trip. But it was a very appropriate prayer for me, because it enabled me to get out of the way and let God do His thing .. and He had such powerful things that He did on this trip!
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