It’s Friday evening and I am excited and quite nervous as we load the taxi with laptop computer, projector, electrical adaptor, surge protector, cameras, mosquito repellant and Bibles. Jealanie Davis and I are on our way to Kunnathur, India to begin the first of 18 evangelistic meetings we are scheduled to conduct.

That morning, after a breakfast of idly and vada, (steamed rice cakes and a savory donut) I had studied the sermon, prayed and listened to advice from others who had done this before; we also practiced setting up the equipment. Our interpreter, a local pastor, had met with us and planned an order of service. Everything seemed in order and should proceed smoothly.

Traffic is horrendous: buses, trucks, cars, auto-rickshaws, pedaled rickshaws, bicycles, motorcycles, carts and cows all share the road. No clear lanes or traffic signals are noticeable and vehicles cut and pass while honking, beeping and tooting. It is a very good thing that a driver has been provided for us.

Forty-five minutes of traveling brings us out of the congested traffic, to Kunnathur, a village with narrow dirt roads and small square block or thatch houses and shops. A few more minutes of driving brings us to a small building with a steeple. About 400 yards from the church is an outdoor platform with covering, which is our stage. There is a swarm of children; I guess their ages range from about 2 – 15 years. They are excited and boisterous. Most are learning English in school, but only know a few phrases well. That does not stop them from trying to converse with us. It seems they all want to shake hands and ask: “How are you?” Some of the more daring children pinch our cheeks. Over and over, I answer the question: “Your name?” Although the sheer volume of children makes it hard to move around and get set up, they are beautiful, friendly children and their wholehearted acceptance puts me more at ease.

We are assisted in setting up equipment by a local man who, through the interpreter, tells us that the power will not be available from 6:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. We make our first adjustment and decide to start at 7:00. A white sheet is brought out to use for a screen. We meet the Bible worker, a small man with a big smile, who has been in the village for two months, preparing for these meetings. He can speak only four words of English:  “Hallelujah”, and “Praise the Lord”.

I had not intended to be a speaker/village coordinator when I expressed an interest in this India mission trip, but God had other intentions. Several months earlier as I attended church at home one Sabbath, the speaker said, to preface her sermon: “Do not say no when someone asks you to speak about God.” After church I told the trip coordinator for our conference, Mitch Hazekamp, that I was interested. He told me, “We need speakers.” I thought, “No”, but I didn’t say no.

The pastor, Jealanie and I pray before we begin. The pastor leads the song service. The children love to sing. One of the songs they sang most nights had words about God’s love bubbling, bubbling, bubbling over; the Tamil translation for bubbling is pongki, which sounds like “poingy.” It always made me laugh to hear the “poingy song.” There are about 55 to 60 children and maybe 15 adults. Jealanie points out other adults sitting on “porches” and mounds of dirt further away. The loud speakers are broadcasting to most of the village.

The chief villagers make speeches and are honored with flower garlands for the women and shawls for the men. Jealanie and I are presented with heavy flower garlands that are placed around our necks and strands of beautiful delicate flowers are pinned in our hair.

The program is not going as I had planned. There are two power outages. After each outage, it takes about seven minutes to restart all of the equipment. I’m trying to remember the advice to be flexible and Jealanie whispers to me that God can use even these problems. Another adjustment to the program: the pastor interacts with the people in a question-answer session while we restart equipment.

Two hours later we finish. I feel exhausted. We try to communicate with the people who stay after to meet us, mostly using smiles and the few words of Tamil that we’ve learned. The Indian people are amused at my pronunciation of their words and I clearly see that laughter is a language we all understand.

Each night I’m a little more comfortable; some nights are worse for power outages or disruptive children, but we learn to laugh and practice being flexible. We receive a generator to use on the fourth night, but still have problems when there is not enough fuel. One evening, there is a loud pop, power goes out and lots of smoke billows from the “control panel” of the audio/electrical system. Jealanie and I look at each other, looks like another chance to be flexible. I make the sign to pray; she nods yes. I’m sure there will be no power and no sound tonight but within ten minutes everything is working. Every day there is a chance to rely on God for physical and emotional needs. Now after the meetings are over, people begin to line up for us to pray with them.

Most nights, Jealanie or the pastor tells a children’s story and then Jealanie presents a health topic. I preach the sermon, relying on the pastor and the Holy Spirit to interpret the Bible truths for the people. The number of children remains between 50 and 75 each night and the number of adults grows to between 25 and 30. I had feared I would never learn these foreign names, but I’m finally beginning to remember some.

The second Monday there is a baptism of 17 people from Kunnathur. The local Indian pastors are baptizing the people who have taken Bible lessons over the last several months, and attended the evening meetings while we're here. They are brought to a church which has an outdoor baptistery and a beautiful rock garden. Jealanie and I enjoy observing the singing and rejoicing at each baptism.

The first person to be baptized was an individual whose family had been hosting the Bible worker. After many attempts and adjustments to our schedule, and our interpreter’s schedule, we go early one day and visit many of the families that have been baptized and are considering baptism. The people are poor (one room homes, no furniture) but so generous, offering us what they have on hand: fruit, vada, and sometimes soft drinks or bottled water.

With only three nights left we are unable to complete the series due to some problems nearby. The church leaders arrange for us to leave the state in the middle of the night; I believe we’ve got this “flexibility” plan down to an art. We are sad that we cannot say goodbye to the friends we have made, but believe it is wise to follow the advice of those knowledgeable in the area’s politics.

I learned that God can use any circumstances, even those we don’t believe are ideal, to accomplish His work. I was blessed with new friends, strengthened faith and renewed conviction.