The part of the city pictured right is called Hi-tech City and is part of Hyderabad. It represents all the big American companies that have moved into India to help develop it. Here, you can find customer service centers for some of our largest companies: Google, Amazon, and Intel. There are others too. American companies have changed the concept of money for some Indians as they get paid a great salary by Indian standards, but it really isn’t much money here in the USA. The range of pay between the middle-class and the working class and lower-class is staggering. While the Indians who work for these American companies are making the equivalent of $2,000 USD per month, a slum family might live on 200 Rupees per month (about $3).

Nearly 2 million people live in the slums of Hyderabad alone. Poverty is everywhere you look. There is also tons of garbage heaped on the sides of the roads where these families live. And children pick through it with the chickens, dogs, cows and pigs.

Since I’ve come home, in the moments right before I wake, I have dreams about the faces of the people I saw in the slums. I will never forget these people and I will find a way to go back to them.

Today Brad and I had a conference call to discuss the possibilities about bringing a team to Hyderabad in early 2013. Join me in prayer for Hyderabad. Would you ask the Lord if we should go back? Would you pray about going with us?

We were able to squeeze one more flip-flop clinic on my last night. It was probably the most special of all the events we did and I am so glad I didn’t fizzle out because I was fatigued. We went through 150 pairs of flip-flops in under two hours. The local church showed up and we had the most foot-washers of the 3 clinics; 8 in all! As it was in the other clinics, we didn’t even have close to enough for everyone who came out and wanted some.

It usually begins like this: We enter the community and are greeted by curious looks from the people going about their business who are wondering why cars are driving down their dirt roads. It isn’t often that cars come through and the roads are not welcoming. We always work with a mission church in the slums and a village pastor and his helpers greet us when we pull up to whatever meeting room they have. Chairs are put out and basins with soap and water are prepared. The children that the church ministers to already are gathered and they are singing as we come in. Brad quickly organizes a skit and although they are poorly rehearsed, the kids don’t care. They love the fact that someone has taken the time to come and visit and they are just as curious as I am about the new experience they are having.

After the singing and the skit are finished, the gospel is shared. The children and any parents who have come have the opportunity to respond. Then, the children are lined up and they are sent to a foot-washing station that tenderly cleans and prays over the children’s feet and then puts the flip-flops on them. The commotion of the event in the streets eventually draws the Hindus and Muslims from the community to come out and watch what is happening. Once they realize what is happening, they get their children in line for a blessing or even a pair of flip-flops. Then, a second opportunity to share the gospel presents itself to these families as we wash their children’s feet and present them with footwear.

What made the final clinic special is that as I pulled in, I recognized faces immediately. The team surprised me by setting up the final clinic in the slums of the families from the church I spoke in Sunday morning. I didn’t realize that I would be seeing those people again! They were very happy that I was greeting them all with that recognition. As we walked down the dirt road to the center of the mission, I noticed a small home (pictured above) with some writing on it. A local told me that the writing meant a Muslim lived there. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but I took a picture of it.

A girl stood in front of the house, and I’m pretty sure that she lives there. I asked the girl if I could take her picture and she was embarrassed that I was speaking to her and she ran inside and peeked at me through the window. For the rest of the evening, it was a little game we played. Every time I noticed her, she would run away and hide and peek at me from wherever she was hiding. I would smile at her and gesture that I wanted to take her picture and she would shake her head and duck. I was finally able to capture her in a crowd shot right before we washed her feet. And she is all I saw.

I don’t know if this girl received the Lord during the clinic but all the churches that work in the slums have a continual presence there and they have already reported Hindu and Muslim families coming back to the church after our visit. I am amazed at how such a small act of service created such a massive opportunity for the gospel! It has given me a glimpse of what we should be doing here in the States to reach our communities too. And maybe these slums are a place where students from our community should go to learn a bit about what the rest of the world looks like outside the conveniences of our country and get a taste for missions and serving others who don’t live like we live.

I want to send more flip-flops and I definitely want to go back and hold more clinics. Flip-flops are so practical because it’s too hot to wear shoes, but too dirty dirty to walk around with bare feet. Maybe the next time I can go and you will will join me. I really want to share this experience with you. Let’s pray together about how we can together share the gospel with our words and our actions!

And in these last two days, I have had the opportunity to do something about it. I am amazed how the church leaders and the local believers have received my words because I feel like I have nothing to offer them. I know that some of them look up to me just because my skin is lighter than theirs and because I live in the USA. I know that they perceive that I am wealthy and powerful and these exteriors are reasons to listen. But I know the truth: I am just a regular guy. I don’t have a lot of money where I am from and my citizenship doesn’t make me more of a Christian than them.

Thank God that the Word of God is relevant to every culture! I have been able to deliver the gospel to Hindu and Muslim children and their parents. I have been able to tell them how Jesus saved my life and how he has the opportunity to save theirs too. I have encouraged the local believers to hold on to their hope no matter how hard it gets and they relate to my pain of losing Amy (Hebrews 10:23).

Something amazing is happening to my heart too. Some of the Christians here have had a heart for me. They have asked to pray and minister to me while I’ve been here. Sharing faith with each other is a massive gift that takes no money at all to give. But it is a priceless gift to give. Faith has given me an affinity with people that I know nothing about. It has inspired them to cook and wait on me hand and foot because they receive me as their brother in Jesus Christ. And I recognize their faith and passion for the Lord because their faith and passion is the same as mine. God loves these people. I love these people.

As I share the gospel with the tribals living in the slums, it is important for them to understand that conversion does not entitle them to an easier life here on this planet, and it may not ease their suffering on this earth one iota, but it is the promise of eternal life in Jesus that should be held on to. Maybe some of them are looking to convert so that I will distribute more gifts and money among them. However, God’s promise of rescue is in the life to come. More important than the gift, is the giver. God wants their hearts.

Gifts attracted people to Jesus. Jesus fed them and gave them miraculous gifts of healing. However, these big gifts did not ensure devotion from the receiver. People have always loved Jesus for his big giving heart and it is his heart that he hopes to transform in us. It is his first priority to capture our heart and then once he has it, to make it new.

To follow Jesus is to learn to be like Jesus and give big gifts. That’s what these flip-flop clinics are all about. I have had the opportunity to take your financial gifts that are multiplied 50 times here in India. It’s like I’m breaking loaves and fishes, people. Your dollar goes so far here and the gifts I am able to come to the slums with is miraculous to these people.

Just like in Jesus’ time, the villagers come to get their gifts. Rarely are they coming for the message of Christ. But it’s so essential to not only serve, but to share the message of Christ with them. It is hope and faith and life. The message of Jesus Christ is the same thing that sustains me in the States, not money or gifts or provisions. God is our resource. And Jesus Christ is the hope of a better future for all of us.

As I wash dozens of children’s feet, I am experiencing a new spiritual discipline that I unaccustomed to. Washing feet is not relevant in our culture because we have incredible hygiene. All of water is clean and we have an abundance of it. Rarely are feet dirty from walking around in the streets and there is not the same dusty, dry and hot climate that these people live in year round. As I wash these little one’s feet, I am connecting with Jesus in a new way. As I provide foot ware for them, I get to experience first hand being the hands of Christ. Don’t get me wrong, it feels good to give. But more than feeling good about giving, I feel great about imitating my Lord and surrendering my life as he did.

The flip-flop clinic is just a token of God’s goodness toward these people. However, I did not strike a crushing blow against poverty, nor did I mobilize significant resources to create infrastructure or economic development in the third world. What I did accomplish however, was to deposit the Christian Spirit; God’s Spirit and I did my assignment for the day. I did my part in God’s greater plan. It is not my job to fix these big things, but to do my part.

Now, how about you? How can you be the hands and feet of Jesus in your neighborhood? How can you leave a deposit of God’s Spirit and create opportunity for his movement in people’s hearts? Maybe you should pray about joining me on a mission like this one to India. Like me, it may just have as great an impact on you as on the lives of those you serve.

The truth is that although we live in the physical realm, there IS also the spiritual realm. Ephesians 6 is proof of that. Our battle is not one we fight with physical warfare but spiritual. Though on earth in physical bodies we are seated with Christ in Heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6).

If we fail to understand that there is more to life than what we physically see, our experience in “church” will become more and more boring and our churches will fill with disinterested religious (form of religion without power) people. Even worse we will lose the younger generation of believers.

Teenagers want substance. They don’t want to be a part of something that demands rigid conformity to a set of rules with no apparent purpose. This is, commonly, how they view their high school experience. Why would they willingly want to be a part of just another system that they already seek to separate from?

We need to bring a reality of the spiritual to our younger generation. Teenagers don’t need bigger, better, messier games that push the boundaries of safety and common sense. They need to experience Jesus Christ in no less a way than Paul did on the road to Damascus. No less than Moses did in the burning bush. No less than Abram did being visited by God Almighty. Anything less than this is to rob our generation from experiencing the Living God.

However, the people that I really want to communicate with are the locals residing just a few kilometers from downtown: the working class and the poor. They speak a local dialect called Telugu and I need an interpreter to talk to them. I have far too much in common with the middle class and upper class here. I know their life all to well. The biggest and most shocking difference however, is their proximity to the other classes.

For example, we went in a store called, “Metro” and it’s like a BJ’s or a Sam’s Club (wholesale purchasing). Just like America, it’s a big warehouse full of the finest merchandise. The prices are set. Metro has the convenience of a one-stop-shop and all the clientele are members and need a card to get in. Staff are dressed in uniforms and stand professionally waiting to assist you in every section of the store. Even though customer service announcements are said in Telugu, that nasally voice that our American customer service announcements are made in has been taught to the Indians… so weird. Everyone wears sandals in India, but I can tell by the condition of their feet whether or not they spend any time on the streets walking around. All the feet in Metro are well-groomed and clean.

Just beyond the gates of Metro, you can see cart stands with mangos or sugarcane, stuffed animals or trinkets; people pushing their belongings in wagons with or without animals and on bicycles. And as you drive down the same streets as this first class store, you see trash everywhere and even people’s homes alongside the road, which are made out of tarp and tin and newspaper and rags.

Just like in America, the locals with means drive by the people who are downtrodden and it is as much a part of the landscape as the the hills and valleys and aren’t given a second thought. The difference is, the pollution and the stench of poverty and the people living in their own filth is everywhere. Even if you were blind, your other senses would still be overwhelmed by the condition of the land and the people who inhabit it.

In the last few days, I have spoken at the middle class church, a traditional tribal-type church and to the pastors of the village and mission churches. Today I will address tribal pastors and pastors of the poor and the slums. Speaking to the middle class was easy. It was just like being back home: rocking good music, fellowship and video projection during the service. I was able to preach in English and use the same kinds of material that I use in the States and it worked just fine. However, I feel much more challenged addressing church leaders and attendees from poor, rural or tribal communities.

The truth is, I feel irrelevant. The watch I wear alone makes me self-conscious when I am around them so I started taking it off and leaving it in the car. Every time I take out my iPhone to take a picture, it dazzles them. I am of the richest on the planet even though in America, my income falls below the poverty line. While we would complain about sitting on the floor at church or the ridiculous heat and having to sit through a two-hour service without air-conditioning, these people are happy to worship and pray and listen for hours. They love Jesus and that’s all they have and their desperation and passion for him exceeds ours in the west. Sorry if that upsets you. We are spoiled rotten and these people make me feel ashamed of myself and all of my indulgences.

Thankfully, God has given me a testimony of suffering through losing Amy. While I would not even dream of comparing my suffering to the conditions the people continually live in, I have experienced death first hand. And so when I speak to them, I share about losing her and the pain I feel and they recognize my pain through my tears and we have found a common affinity in our sorrow. Moreover, as I begin to share about the hope I have in Christ, and that Amy is not dead as the world supposes, and that through Jesus Christ we have the promise from God himself of eternal life and a glorious future free from sickness, pain, calamity and death, we have suddenly been able to recognize each other through this common belief. We find a greater affinity in our hope and so we rejoice together. Thank God for this testimony that I bear. Thank God for these precious people. Thank God for our sufferings with Christ. And thank God that we speak the same language of faith through the Lord Jesus, who suffered greatest of all for us!

Now to all my western friends, I would encourage you with the same scripture that I have been sharing during this season both here in India and in the States. Let these words be life to you as they have been to me and my new friends:

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he promised is faithful.” -Hebrews 10:23

Today is my fourth day here and it feels like it has been weeks. Everyday is jam packed with new people, colors, smells and scenery. My senses are on overload! This first picture is from Brad and Jen’s balcony overlooking the city. It captures my first sunrise in India. Looking out in all directions, I can see so many different things. I can see slums and businesses; a barren field where boys play cricket every morning and the skyscapes of more of the city every way I turn. Without even leaving the house, I have experienced some of the Indian culture in Hyderabad. I can see Muslims and Hindus, animals and the bright colors and interesting architecture in their buildings.

It is incredibly hot and dusty here. I have been told, it only gets hotter from here until the end of May when monsoon season starts. Then things begin to cool off. Using the bathroom is interesting here. They have these hoses with spray attachments to clean yourself instead of wiping with toilet paper. I brought my own and I try and only use the bathroom and Brad and Jen’s house. The water is very bad here; even in the homes with means. I was encouraged to not even brush my teeth with the water coming out of the sink because the water is so bad. Buying food from street vendors is a big no-no too.

What really is staggering to see is the poverty that is everywhere. You can’t ignore it without walking around with your eyes closed. Sewage flows freely in exposed gutters and the smell makes my stomach churn. I prefer the smell of death, a smell that I know so well, to the smells that I have smelled here on the streets of Hyderabad. Some parts of the city smell better than other parts, but men don’t seem to have a problem relieving themselves wherever they are on the street.

As I went sight-seeing the first few days, I was alarmed at how the poor are so desperate, that they walk right up to you to beg. I saw an old woman who sits on the street every day with her feet completely rotted out. The pavement is so hot and I wondered how she stays hydrated and doesn’t burn sitting on the road. Old women and children beg on the street alike and it breaks my heart. Sometimes mothers will carry a child or two while they beg. They can sniff out newcomers and when I stopped to look at one, they all rush me. I was told to look away, but how can you look away from another human being? The truth is, many of these women and children are being put to work by someone. I saw a cripple boy who had a makeshift skateboard that he pulled himself down the street on as he begged. All of these images are burned in my brain. I haven’t even begun serving yet and I am overwhelmed by what I have seen in these last few days.

Contrast this to the developing parts of the city. There is a strong middle class emerging in the city. I was able to get 54 rupees for my $1 USD. That is an amazing rate over here and my money will go far. Brad and Jen took me to shops where I was able to get souvenirs to bring home. As I went in to some of the shops that they thought I would appreciate, I was shocked at how opposite these middle class stores were and how much they reminded me of back home. It was like the poverty that I saw outside didn’t even exist once I walked in the door. Everything is clean and neat and orderly. There is a clear distinction between the poor and everyone else. The poor make up the vast majority here and it only gets worse as you move out into the villages where the untouchables live.

I felt disgusted with my own distaste for all of it. I was ashamed to look away. I felt overwhelmed with the sense of duty to help these people whilst feeling powerless to do anything practically to make things even a little better for any of them. I am frustrated with my own culture and standard of living that I think I need to have while so many live their entire lives without even knowing a hot shower or a permanent address. I am embarrassed of my prayer journals that are filled with my own selfish desires to have a happier and more comfortable life. I have become aware that I live among the wealthy and that I myself am wealthy and have never slept one night without a roof over my head. I will never know the life of the hundreds that I have just driven by living in garbage piles and tarp tents on the side of the road.

Here’s an idea: should I hand out copies of Joel Osteen’s book, “Your Best Life Now?”

I have been thinking about Psalm 96:3 this past week and trying to memorize it as I go on my mission. It says:

“Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.”

I am excited to obey Scripture and go out and declare his glory and his marvelous deeds. This morning as I write, I wonder what God’s glory is and what marvelous deeds will I declare? The thought occurred to me that the glory of God is his church — and you are the church. God’s glory is the bride of Christ. It’s his joy and the birth of the church is what Jesus died on the cross for!

So, when I go to India and I get on my hands and knees and the feet of children in the slums and give the sandals that you have sent me with, I will declare the glory of God to people in India. I will tell them that it was in the name of Jesus that his bride in America sent me to India to share his love and give them flip-flops. I will tell them that the can be part of our family. I will tell them that God loves them and that you love them. I will declare God’s mighty deeds to them and I do so with your generosity.

Dear Friends, I pray that you continue to sow generously and partner with f2fmi. More importantly, I pray that your sense of mission continues to grow and grow. Maybe next time you will be joining me on a plane to Abu Dhabi or Hyderabad or somewhere else… I pray this is the case!

Thanks again for your partnership in the gospel. Let’s see how far we can take this message, shall we?

Your servant in Jesus,

-Tom

Brad does evangelism and other kinds of outreach in the city of Hyderabad. He does festivals but he also does clinics. One particular clinic that I am looking forward to is called, Flip Flops for Fragile Feet. For $1, we can give flip-flops to a child who doesn’t have any shoes. Do you want to help me serve these kids? I would love to be able to put sandals on their feet myself. Would you put something on their feet with me as I go next week?

Your gift of $1 reaches 1 child.

Your gift of $100 reaches 100.

Would you help me serve in one of the poorest countries in the world next week? You may not be able to fly out with me, but I will personally take your gift to those children. Would you send me with lots of gifts for them?

Your Partner in the Gospel,

Tom

Click here to give securely through Acceptiva and select, “India” as your designation.

I ordered 10 copies of my friend, Andrew Palau’s new book, The Secret Life of a Fool this month. I wrote Andrew and asked him to sign one and he sent me an 11th copy, which is now in my personal collection of books I won’t part with. The other 10 I plan to give away to ministry friends and those who might benefit from Andrew’s story of finding real life in Jesus Christ.

I’ve known Andrew for five or six years now. My understanding of him as a man of God continues to evolve with each year that passes. And my respect for him is growing too. Most of my encounters with him have happened on his turf at the Palau headquarters in Portland, OR. I once got to see him and his wife, Wendy minister in England just a few miles away from where my late wife’s family lives. Every time I see him, I learn more about his character and love for the Lord. I am proud to be part of his family’s alliance and to partner in the work of the gospel with him.

My first memory of Andrew is that of embarrassment. On our first meeting, was introduced to Andrew by my friend, Brad Butcher and he gave him a copy of Schizophrenic, On the first printing, the endorsement that had his dad’s name on it was spelled incorrectly. Andrew flipped the book over and I know he was staring right at it. He graciously flipped it back over and said, “Cool man…”

Andrew’s dad is international evangelist, Luis Palau. Andrew’s whole life has been eclipsed by the ministry of his dad who has preached the gospel to millions over the last fifty years. Throughout his life, Andrew tried really hard to get himself out of that shadow. His testimony takes us through his years of running; through teenage mischief, international escapades as he drifted through the UK and France, and years of drug and alcohol abuse. It is a very shocking, but honest read.

To be honest, my revelation of Andrew Palau has been progressive over these last few years from skeptic to believer. I had assumed he had lived a pretty privileged life and couldn’t possibly know anything about the darker side of life. In the early days, I didn’t think I had much I could relate to with to Andrew’s experience. However, especially since Amy’s passing, my ability to relate to Andrew has increased exponentially. Not only am I inspired by his preaching of the gospel, which always is a passionate plea through tears as he remorsefully recounts his distant years from the Lord, but I am also humbled.

On the occasion that I took my late wife’s mother to hear Andrew and Wendy in the UK, I heard my first glimpses of Andrew’s testimony. At that point in time, he was still easing into it; only scratching the surface of his misdeeds. A few weeks later, we had a coffee together at Starbucks in Portland, Oregon and I really saw Andrew’s genuineness. I said to him, “Andrew, I gotta tell you: I am a little intimidated to be having coffee with you today for obvious reasons.”

He replied, “I am too.”

I asked, “How so?”

“Because of who dad is, I wonder what all of you emerging evangelists think of me. I worry that I don’t live up to the expectations.”

I was dumbfounded.

Again, I saw that genuine humility at my mentor, Tim Robnett’s farewell luncheon when he moved on from the Palau team. Through tears, Andrew thanked Tim for playing a crucial role for organizing the outreach events that led up to Andrew conversion.

Testimonies are a powerful tool God uses to draw people to himself. Andrew’s testimony is at the top of the pile and worth the read. Maybe give it out to a friend who you are trying to reach or just read it for your own encouragement. Either way, you should get a copy!

I’ve been dealing with this awful skin condition. Thankfully, after a week of trying to figure out what it is that I have and seeing a goofball doctor who was convinced it was either an allergic reaction or lyme disease… I was finally able to get into a doctor who knew what they were talking about and they diagnosed me almost instantly. It’s called pityriasis rosea. The good news is it’s not a permanent thing and more than likely, I will never get it again. The bad news is that there is no way to make it go away quickly. It will go away whenever it wants to. That could take anywhere from 3 weeks to 6 months! I’ve had it for about a month now and it seems to be getting a little better, but I don’t see it completely going away anytime soon. I’ve been very uncomfortable, in excruciating pain at times and very self conscious because there are large visible spots that have proven hard to cover up.

I went to a frozen yogurt place the other day with my husband Joel and the girl serving us dropped our frozen yogurt because she was, not at all subtly, staring at the spots on my neck. I immediately felt flushed with embarrassment and wanted to run outside. I was already feeling uneasy about the effect it was taking on my physical appearance without anyone looking at me strangely. When we got into the car, I wanted to cry, but seeing as how I hate crying in front of anyone, I held it in and acted like everything was just fine. On the inside, I was balling my eyes out and essentially, having one big, gigantic pity party. Ironic how this nasty rash has the word “pity” right in it’s name!

If the beating I was giving myself in my head was able to show itself on the outside, I would have been covered in blood and bruises and probably close to dead. I started with being upset about this rash I had no control over and then that turned into me hating myself because I’ve convinced myself that I’m “huge and disgusting” and that turned into “I’m a failure because I’m not doing anything great with my life” and so on and so on. GET A GRIP MEGAN! I literally had to yell out loud at myself to stop this massacre I had going on inside my head because my thoughts were bringing condemnation down on me.

I’m sure most of you women reading this can relate to what I’ve been going through on some level. Even some of you men. Satan is a huge jerk. And I am a huge fool to believe his lies. God created man in His image! That means something huge, don’t you think? We are supposed to praise Him because we are fearfully and wonderfully made! Instead, we hate ourselves because we get a little rash or we gain a couple pounds or we’re not doing something that the world views as successful and Satan’s there waiting to rub salt in the wound. We take the devil’s word over God’s word and what it says about who we are in Him and how He loves us.

It is most definitely time to change things up and show Satan who’s boss! I’m not saying that I will never again struggle with my self-image or being confident or that you won’t or that we’re bad people because we’ve fallen prey to the devil’s lies. What I am saying is that we have Christ inside us, therefore there is nothing we can’t overcome because He already overcame it on the cross! I refuse to allow Satan to lie to me about who I am in Christ.

1 John 5:4-5 says, “For everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith. Who is it that overcomes the world? Only he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.”

If any of you readers have been struggling with things similar to what I have been struggling with, I rebuke those thoughts in the name of Jesus right now! You are a beautiful creation that has been intricately put together with more love than you can ever imagine by the maker of the universe. You have been fearfully and wonderfully made! Now, let’s go out there and show Satan what we’re made of, which is a heck of a lot more than he will ever be!