I would like to share some of the pictures that I have from some of my travels. When I would go overseas, I would drink in the places and faces of the people and the land, and will never forget them.
The trash villages were the hardest for me, personally. When we went there, you can not describe it adequately in words. You were required to wear skirts if you were a woman, and the flies were buzzing and biting under your skirt, while the hopelessness of the people around you almost overwhelmed you.
There was a young father that approached me carrying a baby, who was crying weakly. The mother had died about a week before, and he had nothing for the baby. I prayed for the baby, but there was nothing else that I could do. There was a tractor in the background which you can see on one of these pictures, and when one of these poor souls died, the tractor would come and cover them up in the dump.
We went into the gypsy villages, and one place an elderly woman grabbed my hand and put it on her head, wanting prayer. There were also a group of Muslim men that would follow us when we did a program with puppets, and call out that we were trying to convert their Muslim children. They were right!
Pray for the people of India. There is so much persecution on all sides. The Hindus hate the Islamic groups and the Islamic groups hate the Hindus, and they all hate the Christians. And when you try to help the Dalits (lower caste that live in the dumps) The locals say that you are going against their fate.
Some of the schools in the area heard that we were there and organized a Peace Rally. They performed some fabulous dances and had a huge parade. They were very interested in hearing what we had to say. One man talked about the computer industry in America, and one of our pastors had a short talk and gave an invitation for salvation. About 2,000 kids gave their lives to the Lord that day.