Rain. Who doesn’t love a good rain? It refreshes the earth y makes it smell clean. Well, not so in thr slums. In the slums it kind of makes a really muddy mess y little rivers of water that smells like poo. Anyways, as I was walking through this rain in the slum the other day, I watched the brown water going by my feet and I couldn’t stop thinking about the song we always sing with the kids, “Waves of Mercy.” Waves of Mercy Waves of Grace. At first it was kind of sung mockingly in my head, but as I watvhed the water get my feet dirty, the song started playing softer...

I did a house visit this week to an area that is being demolished by the government in order to make Goa more tourist friendly. Thousands are losing their homes. This girl has been coming to Rahab’s Rope for some time and everyone knows her. She’s beautiful. She has the deepest brown eyes that make her perfectly straight, white teeth pop even more when she smiles. She’s 20 and lives with her mother and two younger brothers. I’ll call her Rene. So Ashang and I cross the mass of garbage and rubble and squeeze down through the houses, which are actually concrete...

This week has been a brilliant firework display of new culture and colour. God is close beside me never leaving. He knows I cannot do this on my own and daily I am reminded of that. The slums that we are in have some pretty harsh conditions, and yet God’s love and overwhelming goodness have caught me off guard. “How can He be so good?” Has become my internal mantra. As I was walking down the narrow alley-ways into the slum last week I suddenly had one of those “this IS my life” moments where everything suddenly came into focus. The places He’s brought me...

Wow such a great and crazy week! I have loved both working with the woman, and the children. I’ve made relationships now with people in both slums and I love them both. The streets were crowded and dirty, but a green shirt was worn by the man that crossed the busy road, and it read, “Love Hate Love Hate Love Hate”, over and over. And nothing could be said more true about India. It really is a love hate. I love it…The people, the places, the insane bus rides…But I also hate it. Seeing how some of these people live, children playing barefoot in dirty slum...

Wow such a great and crazy week! I have loved both working with the woman, and the children. I’ve made relationships now with people in both slums and I love them both. The streets were crowded and dirty, but a green shirt was worn by the man that crossed the busy road, and it read, “Love Hate Love Hate Love Hate”, over and over. And nothing could be said more true about India. It really is a love hate. I love it…The people, the places, the insane bus rides…But I also hate it. Seeing how some of these people live, children playing barefoot in dirty slum...

Oh, India. This is such a unique and special culture. The smells here are bittersweet and seep into anything exposed to it for more than 24 hours. The colors are inescapable – they’re splashed across anything and everything and are such a refreshment to eyes longing for something familiar. The traffic is out of control. Why do they make stop signs here? They only take up space… The noise of honking horns is never ending and the bustle of the streets is overwhelming. I’ve been in India 1 week, and I feel as though 1 week would never be long enough to get a true taste...