At coffee/breakfast this morning, Pastor John joined us and shared words to stir us. It is about the Hebrew word Mamre. Which means: When (God) Jehovah spoke something, it was already completed and the appointed plan just needed to be stepped into. It is already finished in the Spirit and Natural, we just need to step into it. God does not start something and leave it unfinished. It is FINISHED when He speaks it.

Heb 11:26 Moses saw the anointing (the call on his life) as greater riches than the treasures in Egypt (Remember, Moses was a part of Pharaoh’s house). He esteemed Eternal things.

Just reaffirmed to my heart what the Lord has been speaking about all of us stepping into what He has planned. Timing is what is key. Timing is revealed through prayer. Whether or not things make sense, stick with it! I know this, I’m sticking with it.

The Church is open 24 hours a day. People come to pray at the Altar during all times of the day and a prayer service starts at 3:00am. Pastor John’s parents were sent to the village by the Lord to start the church. The community was 100% hindu. Much prayer, sweat, blood and tears went in to the launching of the Church.
When they first started to share the Gospel, John’s parents were stoned each time they went out. Rather than strike back or retreat, each stone was picked up and put into a bucket. They took the stones and bulit the Altar in the Church. The Altar still stands. From the street you can see in to the altar of the church.
Today, many who are not believers find their way to the church not to stone the Pastors, but rather for help. You feel the love and compassion as you walk into the compound. The Presence of the Lord is there and people are drawn to it.

We arrive into Mandapeta just after 2:00pm. Mandapeta is considered a village (only 300,000 people) and is situated on the east coast of India on the Bay of Bengal. There is a river that runs through the town and just out side of the main part of town, the river banks are dotted with thatch roofed huts. Along the river banks and lining the rice paddies are palm trees. I feel like I am in Fiji more than in India.

Right in the middle of Mandapeta is High Point Church, founded by Pastor John’s parents many years ago. We are staying in the church compound that has a building to house missionaries. We settle in and rest from all of the travel. It is hot here. 90+ degrees and not a cloud in the sky. The room we have has a fan running to circulate all of the air. Much needed. I know I’ll be drinking plenty of water to keep myself hydrated. Mandapeta is a city that seems not to sleep. The Church and compound are on the main street of the city. Horns seem to be honking almost every minute of the day. Horns are so treasured that many of the vehicles have custom sounding horns. One would think that the circus is going through the middle of town with a band. It took some getting use to especially when I wanted to sleep, I was laughing at the horns in the middle of the night.

Rice Field(l) Huts lining the river (R)

We leave the hotel at 8:30am to board our flight that will take us to Vijayawada. Pastor John tells us that they recently opened up an airport closer to Mandapeta, but the cost of fly into the Rajahmundry airport was way too expensive. Humor is that we actually land in Rajahmundry but are not allowed to get off. We continue on to Vijayawada and then take a 2 1/2 hour car ride back to Mandapeta.

I am asked if I wanted to ride shotgun in the SUV. I said sure. A few people laughed when I agreed. One good thing is that I’m broken into riding in countries that have unique driving rules. One of my missionary rules is : don’t flinch, make gasping noises or give driving instructions, just sit and enjoy the ride ~ knowing that the skill and boldness it takes to drive is something that is learned by active participation and it is not yours.

After a bit I figured out what is the most important part of the vehicle was…. The Horn. Pastor John said that you buy a horn and they thrown in a car for free.
One of the roads we were taking was for a long stretch was a 4 lane divided highway, two lanes going both ways, but funny thing is it was more like a 2 lane highway. Cars, overloaded trucks, tractors, rickshaws and oxen carts, did not pay attention to the divides. They just drove at you every which way. So really, there were two sides of 2 lane highways. Ummmmm…. that’s a new one. To pass, it is one massive game of chicken…. You approach a vehicle and then honk your horn (trucks actually have it painted on). While passing, if there is a vehicle coming at you, you see who backs off first. Honking all the while at the person you approach. This again, is a country where they could save millions of dollars by not painting stripes. Oh yes, let’s not forget BulaMaCow! Cows are sacred here so they just roam all over the place….. along with heards of Waterbuffalo….. Watching out for vehicles is just one part… you’ve got livestock too!

Friday just disappeared so there was no Feb. 23rd….. it was spent in transit. Somewhere over Central Asia…

Our flight brought us into Hyderabad just after 3:00am Sat. morning. Baggage handlers are “hand” tossing luggage on to a small luggage carousel. It was comical to watch the line back up as there is not nearly enough room for all of the luggage that was checked ~ and I only checked one for this trip. It is a manual process for unloading the bags. I keep thinking, boy these guys are really working hard. One of them pulls off luggage that appears to have stayed on the carousel too long to make room for additional bags. Once it gets moving, there does seem to be a science to how baggage is offloaded as it all works out. One would think the entire place would be deserted at this time of the night, but hundreds of people are standing just outside of the airport awaiting the arrival of their loved ones. We meet Pastor John and then are transported to a “Comfort Inn” in the city for a few hours of rest and refreshing before we board the final flight to Mandapeta. I’m thanking God for the arrival of all the luggage.

My first impressions of Hyderabad are written in my journal as: Smells of Oil, Curry and mothballs?

The oil comes from the many, many rickshaws, small motorcycles and mopeds that burn oil….. Curry, well that’s obvious and a fine aroma to smell (makes you hungry), the mothballs…. that were placed in the sinks to keep the cockroaches out of (or down the drain).