This is a long but good post.

We’re going to India this summer for 3 1/2 months along with a few other people from our team, and then some more as the summer rolls on.  All in all there will be 12 of us including children living in India for 14 weeks..  I’m excited, especially as the trip details are being smoothed out.  Though there are questions about loose ends here at home, I am confident the Lord will help us.  We have had two people from our “India Team” in India since December.  They have been serving in slums, leading Bible studies, teaching in schools, volunteering in clinics and hospitals, learning sustainable agriculture and architecture and making preparations for our arrival.

First of all we are making some amazing friends in India with a whole group of people who want to learn God’s Word, and in doing so will gain a vision for what’s possible in India.  Deb and I will be learning what it looks like to be a family in a foreign environment, Enoch will be learning his first words while we are there many of which will be in Hindi.  She will be engaging in opportunities to help in childbirth education by making connections with local midwives and by volunteering at a clinic that serves refugees from Burma.  She will also be looking into areas to serve in adult literacy with another friend of ours who will be going as well.  Enoch’s job is to be safe, make friends and be cute, he’ll be fine.

I have a number of tasks I will be attempting to engage in.  One will be doing research to answer the perennial missionary question, “how will you support yourselves?”  The answer is we will work.  I will be doing some preliminary research into starting a business in India, particularly in and around Delhi.  Over the past year I have had the opportunity of operating the coffee bar inside our organization.  It has given me the experience of operating a business in a low risk environment among the safety of friends.  While in India I will looking at the potential of doing the same thing, but bigger.  There are many reasons for this avenue, coffee houses have long been the centers for the exchange of ideas, and expression of the arts in a sober environment.  They also function as a place for people to develop their social networks the old fashioned way, face to face.  In Delhi specifically there has been a huge influx of young educated professionals who work in call centers and service industries day and night and have few outlets for social life outside of night clubs, shopping districts, and bars.  I will be looking into ways of partnering with our new friends to develop shared experiences that can be of service to those who find themselves in Delhi’s walls.

I will also be attempting to cultivate my skill in woodworking.  I have been learning about this for a few years now and got into it as an extension of my work in small scale agriculture.  In Genesis, working the ground was the work that God gave to Adam, and used it to help him after their disobedience in the garden.  This task tied him to the fact that he is not God, but rather is supposed to function as a co-governor alongside God.  It was a position that should have made the man realize his need for God and to listen to Him.  We take the ethical position based on our reading of God’s word that men should work, and that work should be tied back to working the ground.  For me, as I develop my missiological approach to work in India I see the need for learning to make tools that can be used by the farmer in an appropriate way, a way that can be duplicated.  Not only that, but to develop skills that can be taught to farmers to enable them to be creative and ingenuitive, opening up invention to overcome obstacles. It’s just one of that aspects that risen out of the learning what we have been engaged in these many years.

As I mentioned at the top, we are a part of a team of people.  The friends we have been learning and serving alongside here in Antioch all this time, are going to be with us serving and learning in India.  We are all committed to the vision we have garnered from the Word of God to see “your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” what is called the Kingdom of God.  To see the desires of God manifest on earth like they are in heaven.  All these seemingly random things we are doing all fall under this rubric of God’s will. We are working directed by a rich and ever developing understanding of God’s Word that motivates our actions.  Our interpretations of what “God’s will” might be are bound to the words we find in the Bible.  The more we know and understand of His word, the better we can say what his will might be.  We’ve been trying to do this for seven years now, and though we have much more to learn, there are some thing we can say about this.  And, just as importantly act upon.

We are excited, we hope you can catch some of our vision here.  We’d like you to help us get there and have developed a fun way for you to get involved.  On April 14th we will be holding a fundraiser auction on Facebook for a number of items I have made by hand.  You can head over to Facebook (click here)for details and to see some of the items for auction.

Thanks for being here with us.  Please pray for us, we will need it.  If you have any questions you can email us or message us on Facebook.  We’d love to hear from you.  Thanks guys, Enoch says “ball!”, I think he means bye, but its the only word he can say right now so who knows.  Peace.

Josh

I admit. I was one of those teenagers that when my friends would call to hang out on a friday night, I would hold the phone down and instead of asking my parents if I could go out, would silently be mouthing to them, “Say no. Say tonight isn’t a good night.” (Of course, to avoid the technicality of lying). I would then regretfully inform my friends that my parents would rather me stay in for the night. Shortly, delivery pizza and an evening of watching Dateline or 20/20 would follow. I loved those times. I never envisioned that I could love to hang out with anyone else as much as my family.

But then some of that began to change.

I have a standout memory of a moment when my security of family was both broadened and confirmed. It was the day my little brother, Stephen married my best friend Brittany. The next morning I was moving to Nashville and didn’t know when I’d see her again. I was supposed to wish them well as they drove away to begin their life together but, instead, Brittany and I bawled our eyes out. Like the way you do at graduation because you realize that you’re going to grow apart despite your desire to stay in touch. I could tell Stephen was annoyed because the magic of his first evening with his bride was stolen by his sister’s departure. But then I had this epiphany. Brittany was never going to grow apart from me- she was family now. She would be at every holiday break, every wedding, birthday…birth of a new Mirabal. I felt this wave of relief come over me as some sense was knocked back into my big head. Family is forever, right?

Gosh, that is what we hope.

My understanding of family has changed dramatically since that August day back in 2005. It has come with much offense and challenge to my young mind. I am very different from my  family nowadays. Not in a bad way, just different. I recognize that our lives and experiences will continue to challenge what it means to really be family. I recognize that my vocation will certainly continue to broaden my sense of family, especially as I learn more about how Jesus defined what that meant regardless of how others may have been offended by it. Even as I am offended by it.

In Matthew’s gospel we find Jesus in a few situations in which the reader is forced to reckon with what family is in Jesus’ terms. As a crowd has pressed in on him (Ch 5), eager to hear his teachings, eager to witness his demonstration of the gospel, the crowd points out to him that his mother and brothers would like to talk with him (v.47). Surprisingly, Jesus doesn’t rush out to meet their needs or expectations, he doesn’t even ask what they want, doesn’t seem to even make a point of prioritizing them amongst the crowd. His response probably confused those who stood there and thought the answer to be obvious,

“Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?”

Well, come on Jesus.That’s easy…But then to the dismay of all, (verse 50)

“And pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

It is interesting that in contrast to Mark’s record of this moment, Jesus uses a familial term to refer to God. He calls him father. He brings together this powerful image of what a family looks like in ‘heaven’ if you will. That family is not contingent upon shared last name but in a shared way of being; doing the will of their father. This stipulation is a hard one to accept because it offends us in its openness and inclusiveness. The invitation is too wide.

So, as I mentioned, since having moved to Nashville and having the privilege of learning the Word, this concept has rocked my world. But in a good way. Below is a sermon I wrote to share with my community.  They are some of the most incredible people in the world. They challenge me to become a better woman, wife, mother and human being. We’ve walked alongside one another in many ways. We have hurt together, traveled together, cried and prayed together. As with Brittany, I have witnessed their lovely children enter the world. Just like the family I grew up with, I love these people so much it hurts. This sermon is brief. But honest. Hope you enjoy.

I love my family. If I could take you back to some fond memories of my family I would give you a glimpse of a New Mexico summer.
I think of the smell of Green Chile being roasted, the spiciest Mexican food, the loud cry of mariachi singers, children everywhere and songs we sang that united us.
We would gather at an old Catholic retreat house, tucked away in the Mesilla Valley farmlands. In fact, it was where my parents met as youth. A place where construction began when New Mexico was still part of Mexico.
And over a weekend, we would EAT… and eat… and eat. Story time with my grandpa would captivate the dozens of us as he would speak about his adventures in WWII.
An old uncle would approach me- “Are you Timmy’s daughter??” and I would beam as they could see my dad in me. “Ah, I could tell by your big cavesa!”
Like I said, I love my family.
Then I moved to Tennessee and I recognized something happening in me.
I began to grieve that my children would never know my family the way I did. They won’t have memories of green chile or mariachis.
They wouldn’t get to sit and listen to either of my grandfathers tell stories of their struggle to raise their families.
But then I came to realize some thing else. That family is being redefined for me.
What a spectacle we are when the world sees us share meals together, carpool together, work together, raise families and sing songs that unite us.
What does it mean when I call you ‘brother’ when my skin is not the same color as yours? We don’t even share the same last name.
But here is something we do share: that we want to partner with God to make HIS family bigger.
Unlike me, he is not afraid of losing something. He is not bound by things that are familiar to him.
Instead, he is raising us in such a way that the world can look at all of us- and see who our father is.

I chuckle to myself remembering that according to the state of Tennessee, I became Josh’s wife on June 15 of 2010- exactly 5 weeks after the day I became his wife by covenant. Why the discrepancy? In case you didn’t know, Nashville had a “100 year flood”, a great deluge that happened right before our eyes just days before we were supposed to get married. This torrential downpour destroyed hundreds of homes, not to mention the double-wide mobile home that became a bit too mobile as we watched it float down the interstate by our apartments.

It was a crazy week. All of our wonderful friends scrambled to help us find another place to get married, as the neighborhood we were supposed to get married in had flooded as well. The Opryland hotel was also destroyed, so the night before our wedding we had to find another hotel to spend the night in. All in all, the day turned out wonderfully. Beautifully even. However, the weeks leading up to our wedding seemed to be something of a preview into our lives together- chaos. But not the self-inflicted chaos that comes from being careless or selfish. More like the kind of chaos that comes from a powerful and unpredictable source.

Our first few months of marriage plunged us into a level of vulnerability that I was unprepared for in many ways. It’s one thing to be a beautiful bride full of life and energy, ready to serve her husband. Instead, my husband woke up with me every 2 hours throughout the night to change the ice packs I needed on my skin to keep it from inflaming. That’s just one example in a long list of many health needs I had at the time. Needless to say, perhaps more on the “sickness” than “health” side of things when it comes to conjuring up our vows.

If you haven’t read my birth story, you’ll discover that our first year together was full of tears, struggle and disappointments. But I was glad I wasn’t in the chaos alone. It’s a wonderful image we get of Jesus who arose from his sleep, spoke to the storm and stilled it with his voice (Mark 4). In this passage, we are reminded that not only did Jesus say to his disciples that they would go to the other side, but he remained with them. As frightened (and faithlessly) as the disciples responded to their circumstance, Jesus was full of confidence and faith- he spoke peace over the chaos that was literally engulfing them. He was so sure of reaching the other side that he was able to sleep amidst an event that appeared to be life threatening. He found rest where others didn’t. He showed his disciples another way to be, another response to chaos that they had obviously never seen before. I take this story with me when I see a tempest coming. I want my response to be like Jesus’.

The possibility of chaos is one strange reason that I love engagement photos and photos from the wedding day. I remember staring at photographs of my grandparents in their early years of marriage. The photos were tinged yellow- authentically (unlike the intsagramed filters used on new photos)- that betrayed the passing of time and commitment. They would be smiling together, sometimes laughing, sometimes juggling a baby or two. Soft lines on their faces that indicated youth matched with a hint of wisdom. There is something beautiful about their naivte- their love, that you hope will only mature and remain. That you hope grows stronger and deeper with every new wave. I always wondered how they felt looking at those photos after having spent 20, 30 or 40 years together. Could those smiling youth know the tears, disappointments, arguments, joys, celebrations and surprises they would share together?

Today, I stare at my own photographs. Just a couple years old, really. And yet I still can’t help but get emotional at the thought of building a lifetime of memories with this fantastic husband of mine. Wondering what more children will look like. How we will eventually finish building this “house” in India…

Well, all that to say that the great Nashville flood kept us from making it to the county clerk’s office as it destroyed that part of town. But by June 15th we were able to officially document our commitment. So we will be celebrating our 2nd- 2nd anniversary. Clap for us.

I included our vows. We wrote them. Following our ceremony, we had so many people tell us how meaningful it was for them to hear vows like this. I admit, Josh is far more poignant than I. So, my sincerest hopes to you, Alison, Liz and soon Kendice and… Jenny?!

My vows to Josh:

Joshua Adam Nava

Your name means “YHWH saves humankind anew”.

I’m so excited to partner with you in a vocation that reflects a hope like that.

You are my best friend, I love you so much.

You’re the biggest ‘never say never’ of a lifetime.

I know that we’re young, Josh, and that we have the world and a lifetime ahead of us.

I know it will be full of laughter and tears and prayer and beautiful children.

God is with us. And that’s enough for me, for us.

I know I can’t promise to have coffee made for you every morning

Or to have the laundry color- coded and folded in perfect stacks every time,

But I can promise you that I will be a woman full of love and faith.

I promise to be a woman who uses my words to bring peace to my home.

I promise I will be a good wife and mother.

I promise I will never stop believing in you, or the person I know you will become.

I promise that the world will be better because of us.

I promise to love you better everyday.

I’m willing if you’re willing.

So let us walk towards the garden, where the hope of God’s presence teaches us to live well.

I love you, Josh.

Josh’s vows to me:

The thing I’ve always admired about vows is that they become a strong reference point for the person who makes them in sincerity. They are the things spoken into the world at the point, for us, of commitment. They are true things that are carried along by decisions. They are as concrete as the choice you make to do them. They can order your relationship when in sickness and health becomes too hard or when richer or for poorer begins to rule. Vows remind us of who we said we will be when we don’t feel like those people. So these are my vows.

I will show you what love looks like, a love that spends itself so you can be more.

I promise to work hard to provide for you, and for our children, for our community.

To direct us as we both try to live out this demonstration of the power of God in this world.

To raise impossible children with you, to raise them to be people who have only known health and wholeness, who look first to God and to seek to obey him, and know his words.

To listen to the voice of God as we are learning to do, and to lead our family to obey him.

I promise to make you talk when you are mad. And to never accept “I’m fine” as an answer.

I promise to talk with you when I don’t want to, or don’t know what to say.

I promise to not be a husband that hinders you in your commitment to God but instead is running alongside you, pushing you when you wane and grow tired, to be a partner to you. Always.

I promise to use my life to see that you become everything God is making you to be, everything the world needs you to be.

I promise to laugh with you and to make you laugh.

I promise to take your family as my own. (which I kind of already wanted to do, because of Stephen)

I promise to push us as a couple to become the necessary part of this body that we are.

That truly, even if the world refuses to do it, we together will exemplify what it means to love.

To take each other in sickness or in health.

Suffering the powerful, or spending ourselves for the poor- in 120 degree heat or hypothermic in the Himalayas.

In storm. In flood. In children. In hardship. In joy. Sorrow. Pain. Life. Death. Poverty. Contentment. Skin issues. Heart issues. Your past, my past. Our present. In prison or blessing.

That I will take you as my wife and together we will prove to the world that they are wrong about what it thinks is right.

And we, Deborah, together with all of them (points to community) will change this world and rewrite history.

I love you.

In my late teenage and early adult years, I began having troubles with my reproductive health. Without divulging too much detail, it caused my period to disappear for almost a decade.

Marrying Josh really tested where my faith was. My first two pregnancies ended in much sorrow and pain, once again beckoning me to call on the Lord, to believe in him, that he was indeed the God of the Living.

Third pregnancy. Deep breath.

I’ll never forget the moment we heard and saw his heartbeat. I cried as I reflected on the idea that his heart would outbeat mine.

Full of difficulties and pain (but no sorrow) my pregnancy continued and continued and continued. Agh! 42 weeks and 1 day past my LMP, I waited so impatiently! The morning of January the 9^th, my sister, Linda, and Josh accompanied me to yet another prenatal. I had started taking some homeopathic herbs the night before and throughout the night felt what I thought were diarrhea cramps. So during the visit, they put me on a monitor to measure the contractions and see how baby was responding. Unfortunately, this led us to an ultrasound that revealed he had no ‘ measurable’ amniotic fluid left.

It felt like everything from this point slowly evolved into chaos. I wanted a beautiful, peaceful, natural birth. I wanted all the things I have taught other women about. But that is not my story.

My ‘primary’ midwife sent me immediately to the hospital for induction. She feared something would happen if I went home and waited for labor to pick up. There was also concern that he was a really big baby. She checked my cervix and I was 3 cm and 60% effaced. So it seemed induction would be favorable. I called Tara and said a prayer on the way to Vandy.

I hate hospitals. I’ve spent far too much time in them for someone my age. I hate the smell of rubbing alcohol as they prep your arm for IV. I hate the sound of machines that seemingly measure how much life is in you, I hate the feeling of the sheets that fail to mimic the comfort of home. So, upon my rushed admittance to the labor and delivery ward I felt my emotions start spinning. Frustration, confusion, stress… and now my blood pressure was at 160/90. Both numbers 45 points higher than what it was my entire pregnancy. Started on pitocin, I had to keep my mind from wandering, from feeling like it was over. At this point, Jodi had come while Josh and Linda ran home to gather our hospital bag, his car seat, and some snacks. The contractions still felt like menstrual cramps, hardly what I would call painful. Checked again and I’m at 4 cm. Awesome! Things are really moving!

I hung out in the bed talking to Jodi and the midwife until Josh, Linda and Tara arrived. My blood pressure fluctuated between 140 and 160 over 100. Checked again an hour later and at 5 cm, 80% effaced! Yay! And its only been a few hours!

I vaguely remember lying on my side and watching Tara whip things out of her Mary Poppins doula bag. Endless snacks and drinks, comfort tools, candles… she was cracking me up. I remember laboring on the birth ball from time to time. I remember the awesome labor list Maria made up for me. “Those who hope in the Lord shall renew their strength…”  good words filled the background.

I guess my ability to cope with pain coupled with the monitor’s inability to measure my contractions led the midwife to believe my contractions weren’t strong enough. I assured her they were strong enough but that I had a really high tolerance for pain. On a scale of 1 to 10, we were looking at a 5 or 6. I was still rocking a low dose of pitocin. She didn’t want to increase the dose if the contractions were strong enough, but didn’t want to leave it alone if they weren’t productive. So she introduced the idea of an Intrauterine pressure catheter (IUPC). Agh. When she left I began crying as I leaned over the birth ball. Josh asked what was wrong.

“This isn’t my birth anymore.” I said. He tried to comfort me and remind me that God was with us, that everything would be okay.

I felt a trickle as the midwife broke my water. It felt like my uterus was crying too, like my whole being knew things were not going how they should have. She inserted the IUPC. I could feel my son pushing it around, this foreign object invading his world. The moment the IUPC was inside, my contractions were literally off the charts! They spiked upwards and never came all the way down. My uterus didn’t stop contracting! I hoped the midwife felt sheepish for not believing me. But the damage was done, the catheter had to stay inside throughout my labor. They stopped the pitocin to give my uterus a rest.

Unfortunately, the contractions spaced out so they restarted the pitocin. I remember standing up and leaning against the birth ball. I really had to work through them at this point. I remembered all my relaxation classes, scripts, and techniques. I breathed deep and slow and imagined myself climbing over each peak. Then finding a short rest before the next mountain came. I imagined walking with Josh in a peaceful garden in China, holding hands, smiling, reflecting on God’s faithfulness to bring forth life from impossible circumstances. I remember that.

I was excited to find out how I had progressed since I felt that the past couple hours were pretty intense. But instead, I hadn’t progressed at all. In seven hours, no change. I felt overwhelming defeat.

“I don’t think you’ll be giving birth to this baby vaginally”… It felt like those words floated over me. She couldn’t be talking to me. Not me. Not my wide child-bearing hips. No, not me. I only heard part of what she was saying… “Baby is too big…might get stuck…isn’t moving”

She left us and I burst into tears. The deepest sobs I had cried since my miscarriages. I say that because, it did, in fact, feel like something had died. My dream of that moment. You know, the moment you imagine your whole pregnancy. Pushing your baby out and pulling him up to your chest. Cuddling him. Kissing him. The safest place in the world. It felt like her words blew that dream into a dark closet of lost hopes.

Josh and I cried together for what seemed to be a long time. Tara came and prayed with us, reminding me that she didn’t teach me to believe Cesarean is the worst thing that could happen, sometimes it is the best and only way to have a safe birth. She reminded me that God wasn’t done writing my story, there would be other babies, other births. But today, this was part of my story, however difficult it was and he was going to do something great with it. I’m so thankful for Tara. I might have lost it had she not been there to hold my hand and, essentially, be ‘with woman’… with me, in one of my darkest moments.

I have vague memories of being wheeled down to the OR. My dark, peaceful environment was exchanged for bright lights, surgeons, machines, needles…my head spun as my first round of anesthesia was administered by IV. I sat on the edge of the cot and my body collapsed like a rag doll, the OB caught me. My back was being prepped for the spinal. Before I knew it, my body was shaking violently out of control. She said it was normal. My arms were strapped down. They did a pinch test to ensure the anesthesia took well.

Finally, Josh came in. They told me I would feel the tugging and pulling of the surgery but no pain. Okay. No pain? I could tell when they made the incision. This dizzying feeling swept over me, my mind was so cloudy. I think I threw up almost 20 times. I struggled to maintain presence of mind. I wanted to be awake when he was born.

And then what seemed an eternity later, I heard his loud, loud cry. My baby!! That was my baby! I cried too. Josh and I looked at each other in tears. I have a vague memory of seeing my son, he was brought over to me so I could kiss him, but I don’t remember that.

I wish I could remember seeing Josh holding our son that first time.

As he was being wheeled to the nursery with Josh, I heard the surgeons say my uterus wasn’t clamping down. “I can’t sew her up yet…give her more pitocin…” A few minutes later, “She’s still hemorrhaging, her uterus is boggy…” My mind hung in the air. I began crying. “Please Jesus, let me keep my uterus. Please.” I held pictures in my head of us as a family together, the three of us, the four of us, the five of us…

“She’s still bleeding. Give her some cytotec STAT!” I heard some fumbling… “It’s not working, she needs…”

That’s all I remember until I woke up to my son’s cry the next morning.

I’m told I held him and breastfed him when I came back from surgery. I have no memory of this. I’m told I cooed over him and laughed and kissed him. I’m glad those are my first moments with him even though I don’t remember them.

My faith has been forged in the darkness. I have known lots of pain. People often tell me I’m strong, but I don’t think that people know what that has cost me. I’m thankful I have been perpetually surrounded by a community that believes in prayer, that believes in the God of the Living. I’m thankful that this isn’t the end, that this experience doesn’t define me. Yes, it is part of my story, as difficult as that is for me to accept. This is the story of Enoch Zhenai being born. But it’s also the story of me being born -again- as a mother, as one who God has entrusted this beautiful life to. I’ve come to realize that my life hasn’t been easy and that in good part it won’t be easy in the years to come. But I’m okay with that. Because I’ve walked with the Lord in these dark moments and I don’t have to be afraid. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

– Josh returned from India- very skinny and tan. And even more devilishly handsome than he was before. I know. Hard to believe.

– We started our 7th year of classes at The Institute for Global Outreach Developments Int’l. Not doctors- but indeed people who can help heal our world.

– I was hospitalized at the onset of my 3rd trimester for a kidney infection. 8 days and 8 antibiotics later, I was discharged.

– Took probiotics like crazy.

– Josh built stuff. Stuff for baby. Stuff for me. Stuff people keep saying, “Omigod. He should pin that on Pinterest!”

– My baby ignored the 2011 tax year and propelled me into 2012 without asking. I was huge.

– My sister, Linda, visited me to help with baby. She was here for his arrival <3

– Enoch Zhenai Nava was born. The (new) love of my life.

– My mom stayed with me for a month to help me recover. Best mom in the world. I have a lot to learn.

– Josh’s mom and grandma came to see the first great and grand baby. He is ever so spoiled.

– I injected my own antibiotics by PICC line for two weeks in my own home.

– Took probiotics like anything.

– Brittany, my SIL and best friend, came to Nashville for some R & R. It was long overdue and wonderful.

– I fell more in love with Josh than ever.

I probably skipped something major. More to come on these events. Brittany took some beautiful pics of my new little family. Soon to come…

We were to scheduled to return to the city later that evening by train but arrived at the station to find that the line we were traveling on was being repaired and hence our train was cancelled. However, we were able to stay the night with some believers in the town and take a bus early the next morning. Our train was to leave later that night from the city and we were very far away. It took us 11 hours to get to Kolkata by bus and, as is traveling in the 3rd world, had to stop in the middle of the city to get taxis to take us to the other side with only an hour to spare.  The traffic was incredible-  our taxi driver took us down every back street to get us to the station on time. We pulled up to the station with a couple minutes to spare.  We got everyone from my team on the train the very minute the train was leaving. God was with us, it was crazy!

Since my last update, I have seen many things that have filled me with both heartbreak and hope.  We walked through a slum where I saw little babies crawling on the ground covered in flies, the mother was so very poor.  A team member and I went back with a bag of bananas and a handful of rupees for her to spend on her four small children.  I then felt the importance of how we are spending ourselves through education in different disciplines back in Nashville. We will be able to help women receive the education and advocacy they need, to be raised out of their poverty so they can take care of their children how they desperately want to.  While we were at the train station the other night, two boys came begging toward us probably no more than 7 years old.  We got them some food to eat and played with them while we awaited news of our train.  By making them laugh we saw the tough exterior that was forced upon them by their condition melt into the laughter and play of little boys.

Over this time we have been discussing with the team the great need for people to take up the call of Jesus to bring about the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.  For little girls to be able to be little girls as I watched one do this morning on the train, an 8 year old resting her cheek on her mothers leg and getting up to annoy her brother.  In the same frame I saw a girl, about the same age, going from cabin to cabin doing tricks on the floor of the train for a few rupees.  These things should never be.  The song “Anything” (by Unnamed Servant) has very much been on my mind. One day children will play and learn in school, their mothers will have enough nutrition for their babies to be born healthy, they will have work and a community to surround them, love them and care for them.

We have only 6 more days in India, pray for the team, pray that our hearts stay soft and that we do not shut down in these last few moments with the least of these.

But its not all teardrops and introspection, we are also engaging in important work.  We will be visiting people who live in slums, interacting with beggars on the trains, and hearing the life stories of people who have given their lives to Jesus in an environment that opposes their decision.  As we travel we will be engaging in dialogue about the possibilities God sees for places like this. Gaining a glimpse into God’s vision for the world is essential for sowing the beginnings of hope.

Our first few days here have been a whirlwind, we’ve been to many places thus far. We discovered there was a festival in the city of Derdhun where many travelers were headed. The first experience we had on the trains as a team was an overnight trip with probably 150-200 people per car. There were people on the floors, across the aisles and trying to sleep 3 to a bench. That was the most people I have ever seen on the sleeper class trains. When we arrived to our destination we had the privilege to sit and speak with Dr.Vandana Shiva (www.navdanya.org ) She is world renowned for her work in biodiverse farming and conservation particularly with impoverished farmers throughout India. Dr. Shiva provided us with a special audience and had time for questions and answers about her philosophies and experiences. I got to ask her about her work and education of women in the agricultural context- she is incredibly knowledgable.  The farm itself was pretty amazing and gave us good vision for what is possible in India with low resources. Hopefully, we will be able to visit again in the future and possibly attend their internship program.

I am in good health so far, I feel this will be a long trip but I am praying that God continues to meet us and gives us strength.  I am thankful and excited to be here. I have already learned so much. Continue to pray for us as this is only the beginning!

Yep! That’s right! The Nava family is expanding by 1 more!!! We will happily become parents sometime around New Year’s Day 2012. This has been a time of truly trusting the Lord as I have struggled with various health problems for several years prior to this time. However, these last few months have been a time of growing (in many ways) and learning to live with faith as we partner with God in bringing forth life into the world.

And for those who are wondering, having children does not negate our plans to live in the 3rd world. We believe that God will take care of our family as we are obedient and committed to doing his work in India.

There were some difficulties in finalizing details for housing and transportation while Josh and our small team would be in India. Although most of my time was designated for spending time with local midwives and offering childbirth education in the slums, other logistics would have prevented me from doing this to the best of my ability. However, Josh is still going to India for a short time this summer (July 17- August 10). He was asked to serve the team through assisting the band Unnamed Servant (who are also functioning as facilitators) and helping team members process their experience in the 3rd world. Josh will also have opportunities to learn from some of the leading agricultural experts in the world. He is very excited and blessed for this opportunity, which will strengthen his familiarity with Indian society as well as assist in establishing long term contacts.

As I am in the practicum portion of my Childbirth Education program, I have many hours to fulfill in attending prenatals, births, post-partum care and breastfeeding support. I have been able to provide education and support for women this summer which has made these past few months very productive and exciting! While Josh is in India, I will be in Farmington, New Mexico supporting and attending the birth of my best friend, Brittany Mirabal. Josh and I will be spending a total of 5 1/2 weeks apart from one another but we are blessed to know that we are being obedient to God’s call on our lives by making sacrifices in order to serve those we love.

Thank you to all of those who have sent support through donations and prayers. We continue to need them as our lives continue to make more dramatic turns! We hope to keep you updated as Josh travels throughout India on the intricate train system, serving the poor and as I educate and love on women in their greatest time of need.

In my observation, it seems that we make it our personal mission to embrace the kind of theology that disregards the value of our humanness. Perhaps we do this because we think this condemning language is biblical, or perhaps because we think it sounds humble.

I volunteer to work with youth groups that come to Nashville from all over the United States to do service projects that serve the marginalized people in the Nashville area. There is nothing more heartbreaking than to listen to the outcasted 14-year-old girl weeping about how she doesn’t deserve God’s love, that she’s a horrible person and should go to hell for the things she’s done. Now, I can only imagine the kinds of things she’s done, but at 14 I’d be safe to say it probably isn’t that bad. No, not so bad that God should not love her. And yet, this kind of attitude toward one’s self is encouraged in the church. Why do I think this? Simply because I have heard youth pastor after youth pastor confirm these misconceptions about God. What happened to teaching young people about their goodness in the creation account in Genesis?

If you aren’t familiar with the creation account, you don’t have to look far, it’s the first chapter of the bible. The first few chapters of Genesis are really important to the way we understand the created order; how man is meant to function in the earth. Genesis 1 is a wonderful account of the way in which God ordered the chaos by his word (Gen 1.2-7). Each new day begins with “And God said…” By the time we have come to the creation of humanity (Gen1.27), he declares tov me’od, that humankind is very good (v.31). It’s right there in the text.

The few times that I’ve had the opportunity to go over this passage with a young person, it comes as a revelation to them. The same way it did for me. Of all things created– the vast skies, the green and fruitful land, the rarest and most exotic birds, the creeping creatures– of all things, humankind is of utmost importance, the very apex of all creation. There is no thing in all of creation that carries the same value as a human being. Nothing. Human beings are the only created beings that bear the image of their creator (1.27). This truth, which is often set aside as a Sunday school lesson, carries a significant and purposeful weight throughout the rest of the bible. However, in order to capture its meaning, it must be understood in the context in which it was originally given. And as we see it here in the creation account for the first time, it is apparent that human beings are created in the image of God and humanity is pronounced very good.

The problem is that many people are more concerned with doctrinal statements that has been developed over the past four or five hundred years, doctrines that were developed by young twenty somethings who had yet to learn themselves much less write sound theology. Many people rely on those words rather than The Word. So I encourage you to begin to see yourself the way your God sees you and perhaps we can be free from self-condemning statements that lack faith. For it is when we can accept that we are good we will begin to live and treat one another in ways that recognize that they are also good. Acknowledging this truth makes us responsible to live well, responsible to ensure that the dignity and value of other human beings is being protected. And in time we will see how embracing our goodness, the shared value of our humanity, can begin to heal mindsets and heartaches that declare the very opposite. We are good, this is how our story begins.