They pressed in with joy
CPE IN GADWAL, INDIA

Indians are a stately, well-groomed people with clean, brightly-coloured clothing. The Muslim ladies, dressed in black with veiled faces, stand out harshly from the beautiful splash of colour. In the cities, pollution is thick, the heavy air perfumed with gasoline, bodily wastes, dust and incense. Roads are are a free-for-all as goats, hogs, water buffalo, ox-drawn carts and three-wheeled taxis jostle for position. Bulging vehicles of every description travel at top speed with no apparent order and yet with great precision. Disfigured bodies, lepers and moms with scantily dressed babies meander in and out of traffic, begging with outstretched arms.

We tumbled into rural Gadwal and were housed in the newly resurrected mission hospital, which now serves as a Bible school. Living Indian style, we slept on foamies on the floor. Although primitive, the conditions were clean and adequate, and the food was quite delicious. A convoy of jeeps would arrive each morning to bounce us, sometimes two hours each way, along dusty roads and dirt tracks to our assigned villages. It was like stepping back in time to where oxen yoked together pulled primitive wooden ploughs. Women and children with bundles balanced on their heads walked to and from the fields.

Excitement mounted at the local churches as pastors and elders became our guides in the door-to-door evangelism campaign. God had clearly gone ahead of us, preparing the hearts and lives of the people to accept His Word. As our national translators shared our written testimonies and went through the questions, we stood in awe as many Hindus and Muslims prayed to receive Jesus as Lord and Saviour. We left a New Testament and a Bible study lesson in the Telegu language behind, making a firm date for a follow-up visit. Farmers, shopkeepers, teachers, students, housewives, the homeless, people from every age and station, accepted the Word of God.

In our village, I was assigned an area where they made saris. Each home (often little more than a box) was divided in half: one side housed the family, the other side the loom. (In a typical farmer's grass hut, animals lived side by side with the people.) These weavers were overwhelmed. For weeks, several men had gathered around an old wireless to hear a Christian broadcast in Telegu. They eagerly and joyously took the step of faith from darkness into light. People pressed in on every side to hear the gospel, and at one home I counted 63 people.

A Muslim man begged us to go to his home and immediately closed his door on the crowds, which was unusual. It was so hot and dark we could barely see him motioning his wife, two young sons and us to kneel on the blanket. Tears tumbled down his cheeks as he repented of his sins to the one true God and was born again. It was not our testimony but the living Word that changed the lives of this community of weavers.

A total of 2,293 people prayed the sinner's prayer, including all but two of our many jeep drivers. This was the result when the body of Christ prayed together, and churches in Canada joined in partnership with churches in India.

Wendy Petty

Wendy Petty is a member of Central Heights MB Church in Abbotsford, B.C.

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