You can know that children live on the streets. You can read about what people are doing to help. You can know facts and statistics and strategies. But nothing can prepare you to walk the streets of Thamel (the tourist district of Nepal) and have a three year old tap your hip, asking for money. Nothing can prepare you to walk by children lifting up their shirts to show you their skinny bellies, asking for food. Nothing can prepare you to feel so helpless because you don't know how to truly make a difference.
You can read about how people are living in unthinkable conditions. You can take a class in your comfortable American school and discuss poverty. You can know that it's out there and I guess we Americans have it good. But nothing can prepare you to fully immerse yourself in a third world country. Nothing can prepare you to be riding by slums and dumps where people are digging through trash for their next meal or something to sell for a few rupees. Nothing can prepare you to see the Bagmati river (the one that smells terrible and basically functions as a trash dump) where people live along the sides day after day.
You can know about other religions. You can know that not everyone knows about Jesus. You can know that people are dying without the gospel every single day. But nothing, nothing can prepare you to see an entire city and know that the vast majority of these people will die and go to hell. Nothing can prepare you to visit a Buddhist temple and watch people who have traveled for days to visit pray and hope to earn something that they never will. Nothing can prepare you to see devout Hindus and know that they are so far from truth. As I'm writing this, I'm watching a woman on the rooftop next to mine pray at a shrine on her roof and a man in his garden praying in his temple. There's a bell on the corner that gets rung every morning to awaken the gods, and every time I hear it my heart sinks. There is such darkness here. It's thick, it's oppressive.
My prayer since I set foot in this country is that God would open my eyes. I knew seeing things like these was coming-- and it's so hard. Living in Nepal is very hard. I knew that it would be. But being here and living through this is totally different than any expectations.
I've never seen a place with such deep darkness and unanswered questions. But equally as present is a beautiful light. Though I feel helpless, there are people here who are making a difference. And there is a purpose for my being here. God is using this trip to completely transform my life for His glory.
Though Nepal is broken, it's beautiful. The Creator is evident everywhere you turn. (I mean, really, have you seen the Himalayas? Have you seen the sunrise over Kathmandu or played in a Himalayan river? Have you ridden through the jungle on the back of an elephant? I have, and they're the perfect places to worship.) God has his fingerprints all over Nepal. The people are kind and generous. The believers are passionate and my heroes.
And on top of it all, there is Light. Jesus is here. His church is quickly growing, despite hardships. The light shines much brighter when the night is darkest. There is hope in the hopeless, you just have to know where to look.
So no, I never could have prepared for what I've seen these past two weeks. I don't have answers to these questions. I don't know how to go back home having seen what I've seen. I don't even know how to spend my last ten days when I have the opportunity to serve and do practically anything. But yet I know one thing: I can rest. God knows. He's here, he's leading me and drawing me to himself. He's a good, good Father. And I'm loved by Him. And that changes everything.
