India...

I miss India so much... the people, the pollution, the pain, the sickness... I was sitting on the porch of one of the studios tonight thinking of how beautiful it is here, but yet how much more beautiful India is. Living there life was so hard, but so purposeful. You woke up every morning knowing that if you didn't... well... you got up and knew that you had to start your day with Christ, because of the terrors ahead. Because you knew without Him, you couldnt stand or help.

It was hell to live in India, and I truly hated the discomfort I had to go through. But beyond the torture, there was a real meaning to my work. A meaning so real, it makes everything else I've done (save building the church) seem so artificial, so unnatural, so unimportant and so piddly. I touched Christ a thousand times each day in India.

A thousand times I had to overcome my disgust, and my aversions. And a thousand times someone would feel their dignity restored.

I miss India. I miss living that radical life of Love.