India Changed Me
It has been almost three weeks since I returned from a trip to India, a trip that changed me in ways I might never know.
As I have sat these last few weeks to write about my experience, I have been stuck. I have been stuck with balancing the joy that India brought me and the deep fear of what is happening in our country. How can I find the words to capture the beauty of India while my heart is breaking?
How can I find the words to describe the intricate details of monuments that were done entirely by hand but told a beautiful story? How can I find the words to explain how the swastika is sacred in India? Instead of being used as a symbol of hate, it is a symbol of good fortune and prosperity and a symbol that was present everywhere, from things old to new.
I went to India with an open mind, I had very few expectations, and for the most part, I saw this trip as part of my role as a communicator. I went to India to hear the story of the church and bring that back, and yes I heard the stories. I heard from church leaders the same problems that our churches are facing here. I heard the pain of being marginalized. I heard the hope of a church that is building a caste-less space, a place where even the Dalit or untouchables are seen the way God sees them, as beloved children of God.
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India gave me hope.
India loved me for me.
India changed me.
And for now, that is all I have to share about my time. I know there will be moments when I can share more but in the here and now this is all I have to give. I am eternally grateful for India, for the people, the hospitality, and the love.
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