Pooja

In a small courtyard outside her one room house, Pooja sits on the concrete floor cutting out material for a new top.  Laying on a blanket next to her is the 6 week old baby trying to nap while flies cover her exposed face and arms.  Pooja confesses that she is worried about her baby who spits up excessively every time she eats, and she asks for prayer.  I try to reassure this new mom that it is not uncommon for babies to spit up, but when I find out that she suffered 7 miscarriages before having this first baby I have a new perspective.  My heart fills with compassion for this mom who simply wants her precious baby to be healthy.  Despite the strikingly different lives we lead, we have two important things in common - we both love Jesus and we are both moms.  And this provides an almost instant heart connection between us.  Pooja lives right next door to the local Indian pastor that we are working with, so I see her and her baby almost every day.

We spend time talking, laughing and praying.  She asks questions about America and I ask questions about her life in India.  She teaches me a game they play with rocks (similar to our game of jacks) and they laugh as I attempt to play.  She pulls out her traditional Indian jewelry that she wore for her wedding and dresses me up.  Her and her friends giggle as they tell me I look like a newly married Indian girl!

I pray over the new jewelry business she is starting in her home, and I promise her that I will continue to pray for her and her baby when I go home.  By the end of the week, my heart is breaking as I tell her goodbye.  She asks when I will come back and tells me I need to bring my boys next time.  All the while, I am trying to figure out how I can pack up my family and move to India.  People have asked me if I fell in love with India.  My answer is yes...but it is not the country of India, but the people of India who have stolen my heart. 

 

 My encounter with Pooja gave me a small glimpse into the heart of God and His love for all people of all nations.  God broke my heart for the people of India and all the struggles they face everyday.  And while Pooja was a believer who loved Jesus, there were so many other Indian women I met who didn't have that hope.  Their homes were filled with idols and they were desperate for something to fill the void in their lives.  They strived in vain to please the numerous Hindu gods they worshiped, yet they didn't have a relationship with the one, true God that could truly transform their life.

While I may not ever see Pooja again in this life, I have hope knowing I will see her again in eternity.  And I pray for all the Indians who heard the Gospel this last week, some for the very first time.  I pray that I will one day see them as we all worship before the throne of God!