Day 2-A taste of Ooty

Girls went to the boathouse and botanical garden, and came to have an intro horse therapy session.

·        Hearing girls in their teens and up, belly laugh like little kids as they trotted for the first time.

·        Seeing terror and nervousness turn into joy as they made their first circuit of the ring on horseback

·        One girl who barely spoke english was on the horse. She was very quiet and serious, but she suddenly started petting Shadow, and said, “I am so happy now.” So simple, so quiet and calm, but so moving.

·         Shadow was trying to be lazy and find someone who would let him stop and stand for a bit. He made a beeline for Deep, who of course let him stop, and gave him a cuddle. I made Shadow continue, and Deep’s face was lit up as he told me that Shadow likes him and chose to come to him. Neat to see that excitement about horses from a guy his age.

·        Photos with the girls at the botanical garden

·         Having Raji, one of our Ooty girls, ride for the first time.

·        Many of the girls don’t speak or understand English. To teach them to steer the horse, I’d put the reins in a girl’s hand, and put my hand over hers, turning the horse with her. The look on a girl’s face when she realized what I was showing her, and that she could do it on her own, was so neat. 

·        ·Lily being excited to see me even when she was in a snit with the group. She saw that I was ok, and someone she knows and trusts.

·         Getting a humourous call from Pradeep, telling how he sent the guys from the American team to get chai and snacks, and how funny it was, and he just needed to tell someone else who would appreciate it.

·        Riding Shadow for a bit in the rain to show the group how it looked when I rode.

·        Seeing the way therapy can work in just a one-time thing, even just for a few minutes.

·        Girls who made me run around the soccer pitch loads of times, because they were enjoying trotting so much.

Day 1: Welcome to Ooty, meal together, etc…

    I'll be posting some blogs over the next few days about our Avalanche camp we just had. It was an amazing experience for all involved, and each day, I would write down highlights of the day. Mostly just little things, things people might not even notice to write down in a journal. But put together, it is these little things that made Avalanche what it was. Some of these might not make sense to anyone who was not at camp, some might not make sense to any but me. I tried to make them so they would make sense to anyone, but I'm not sure if I succeeded. Feel free to ask me any questions you might have about them.

    This is from the first day. The girls came in, and we spent the evening with them. It's a pretty short one, because we didn't really do that much with the girls. But it was still a wonderful night, and a great time to spend with the girls and with each other.

·        Seeing the way that our Ooty girls determined that we were “theirs”, and they were going to let everyone know. It seemed to give our friendship a bit of a kickstart.

·        Seeing staff I had only met at the staff retreat.

·        Watching everyone step out of their comfort zones and start to make friends.

·        Meeting the American team, though they were terribly jet-lagged, and discussing what would be happening at camp.

·        The excitement of girls and staff both.

·        Having a very amusing discussion with Mala and Pradeep about the downfalls of not using toilet paper. Especially for a woman. Pradeep didn't really understand...

Happy Poem in Your Pocket Day

Found out that today is Poem in Your Pocket Day. You're supposed to carry a poem in your pocket, and share it with everyone. Most people that I know are not close enough to see anything that is in my pocket, so here is a poem for you all. Enjoy :~)

Artist
If I was an artist, I’d paint the way the moon looks
As it rises in midday
I’d paint the way the stars reflect
I’d paint each word you say
I would paint the things
That no one paints
The bugs and beasts
All the world’s taints.
Those things that have beauty
If only you look
And here’s what I’d paint:
I’d paint you a book
With everything beautiful thing
You’ve ever seen
And some of which
You only can dream
I would paint lightning
As it dances through the clouds
I’d paint a little street child
Peering sadly through the crowds
I would show you all
Of the beauty I’ve found
From the stars in the sky
To the bugs on the ground
Beauty in places
You’d never expect
For you can find beauty
Where everything’s wrecked
And that’s what I’d paint for you
All the beauty beneath and above
And that would be the best way, I think,
To show you all my love.

May I never lose the wonder.

Had a friend go with me the other day to feed the horses. He is rather fond of the horses, but really has no horse experience to speak of. It was just a couple of weeks ago that he went riding with me and controlled the horse he was riding for the first time. In spite of that, he seems rather natural around the horses, spending time just loving on them whenever he is around them.
So the other day, I was getting ready to take a couple of ponies down to town. I was going to ride one and lead the other, and Pradeep was going to take the car back to town. We had a short walk through the woods to the road, and I talked him into riding Shadow bareback til we reached the car. It took some coaxing, but he finally agreed.
On the way up, Deep started talking about how amazing the whole thing was. He had never ridden bareback before, and the whole thing, with the horse, and riding bareback, and being in the woods, was just incredible. I was so enjoying listening to him, because I have gotten to the point that things like this are normal for me. Almost a given. I have ridden horses bareback through the woods since I was little, and while I enjoy it, I tend to take it for granted. Hearing someone like Deep talking about how wonderful it is to ride, even just for a few minutes, reminds me that it really is wonderful. It reminds me of how fortunate I am to have something like this in my life.
And it makes me think about the people who made it possible. My Aunt, who gave me riding lessons when I was little (little enough to actually properly fit my pony :~) ), and who sold me my first pony, and my parents, who let me have a pony, and trusted me (and Gram) enough to let us go out in the woods for hours with nothing on that pony but me and a bridle. I was so blessed, even as a child, to have people like them in my life.
I hope that, no matter how old I get, or how much I ride, I will never lose the wonder of what I am doing. The wonder of that partnership between human and horse, and the wonder of spending time in God's creation, with a 4-legged friend who can teach me so much about who God is. 

Ruth and random thoughts.

I absolutely love the book of Ruth. Such a short book, but so full. Every time I read it, I find something new that I haven't seen before. I mean, that's the way it is with any book of the Bible, but I notice it a lot more with Ruth. 
Last night, I was reading Ruth (though, if you haven't figured that out yet, you might as well not be reading this...). When Boaz meets Ruth, she asks him what she has done to find such favour in his eyes. He tells her that he has heard what she has done for Naomi since both of them became widows. The following verses are what he says to her:
Ruth 2:11b-12 "How you left your father and mother and your homeland and came to live with a people you did not know before. May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge.”
I guess it caught my attention, because it was talking about her leaving her Mother and Father and her homeland. It sort of resonates. 
But how incredible would it be to make that kind of impact on people? That complete strangers know your story? Granted, the town was probably small, and everyone knew everyone's business, but really, most people would still look at Ruth as a foreigner, who was somewhere she had no business being. But Boaz saw why she had come, and honoured her and protected her because of that. 
And that makes me think of the story in Acts, where Paul is leaving the Ephesian elders, never to see them again:
Acts 20:36-38 When Paul had finished speaking, he knelt down with all of them and prayed. They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him. What grieved them most was his statement that they would never see his face again. Then they accompanied him to the ship.
I've sort of wondered since the first time I read that, if I will ever make such an impact. The elders weren't just kids crying because it was an emotional parting. They were adults; leaders of their community, and they were grieving, because they would not see Paul again. Will I make that kind of difference in the places I go? Not that I want to make people sad, but I want what I do to affect people, and last. Or rather, I want what God does through me to affect people. If it's just what I am doing, I might as well give up now. 
And how do I do that? How do I change lives? How do I let go of any agenda I might have, and throw myself wholeheartedly into the plans that God has for me? It takes thought and deliberation, I know that. Something to work on. 

Where is Home?

Home is here 

Home is right in front of me

A place where I belong

Where I’m supposed to be.

Guided by the moments

That make me who I am

Each step set in motion

And part of a larger plan 

I have to laugh when, in the same sentence, I refer to India as home, and the States as home. Where is home? Is my home in Forreston, IL? Is my home in Ooty? I referred to Townshend, VT as home, I have referred to Manaus, Amazonas as home. And I think each time I do, what makes someplace home?

My real home is not here. That’s why I can call anyplace I am home. Each place that I live is a temporary home as I continue on to my real home.

And, you know something? I have finally worked out what it is that truly makes someplace feel like home. See, it depends on how close I am to where God has me. It depends on how much I am doing for him, or how much I am doing only for myself.

For example, when I was living in VT, I called that home. For a while. Until it became abundantly clear that I was not supposed to be there. And that was the point that I stopped referring to it as home. The only place I felt at home was either at the church, or at the home of some friends from church. Because there, I was still growing with God through the teaching, and through fellowship and creating lasting friendships. But when I went back to the farm where I was staying, that’s what I called it; the farm. I never said I was going home. And if I slipped up and said home, I would deliberately change it. It wasn’t something I really made a choice to do, it just felt wrong to call it home.

But here, I hardly even notice how far I am from home (the US one). Oh, there are things that make me miss being there. Mainly family, or a couple of friends. Writing letters to a friend when really, I would rather drive to her house and sit for hours and talk about everything and nothing. Those things make me feel far from home. But then I get distracted by the things I am doing here, and I feel so at home here.

I know that even with the things that I miss in the States, I would not feel at home there right now. Oh, I could go for a visit, and it would be pleasant. Everything would be familiar, I’d be the right colour, right height, etc., etc. But it wouldn’t work. I would enjoy certain aspects of being there, but I would also feel lost.

Right now, Ooty is home. I don’t know how long that will last. I have decided though, to accept it as home until God moves me somewhere else. Things might not always go as smoothly as I would like, but it is home, and I will remain where I belong.

Trusting in...

(This is going to be a long story to explain a random thought process from the other day...)
I was thinking about trust yesterday, while driving Herc down the mountain. It's been a while since he's been driven, and even longer since he's been all the way to Ooty. For the most part, he was amazing. He acted like he drove every day. There were a couple of little things that he spooked at, but not much. Until we got to a point where a guy insisted that we stop so he could talk to me and ask where I was from and whatnot. We started off again, but Herc was a little weirded out by the brick road ahead of us. He seems to have some vision problems, and I think he wasn't sure if the darker brick was a hole, or a stream, or what. So he hesitated, looking at the bricks as though they were a volcano we were going to drive into. And that was when our problems began.
I was talking to him, and encouraging him to cross, when this guy jumped forward, and grabbed Herc's bridle, insisting that he would help us. Hercules panicked, not knowing why a stranger would be telling him what to do, and bolted, turning toward home and trying to get away from the man. I jumped down to grab Herc's bridle, and as soon as I was by his head, he started to calm. Until the man grabbed his bridle again. I was trying to calm Hercules, and tell this man to leave him alone, and trying not to get trampled by Hercules, who was terrified by the man. He had his head high, and was trying to run down the road to get away from him.
Finally, the man let go. I think I gestured with my stick as I snapped at him to let go of my horse, and, though I was not at all meaning to hit him, it seemed to make him realize I was serious with what I was saying. He let go, and I stopped Hercules, and put my arms around his head, talking to him and letting him know he was safe. I didn't have to hold him tightly, just sort of hug him and talk softly to him. As soon as he knew it was me that had him, he calmed, resting his head against my chest, seemingly happy to realize that he was with someone safe. We turned around, and he followed me without hesitation, across the bricks that had made him nervous in the first place.
After that, if something startled him, I just had to encourage him, and talk him through it. He would hear my voice, and know that there wasn't anything to be afraid of. Though, when the plastic bag flew through the air toward us, he was a bit freaked out.
So, that whole long story to say, I wish I could be like that. I wish I could trust like that. To say, 'ok, I hear this person's voice, and I know that I can trust them, no matter what.' To not be so distrustful, and scared of being hurt, but to just accept people without so many reservations. Not to be stupid and trust everyone, no matter what, but to trust the people that my heart tells me I can trust, instead of waiting every moment for them to hurt me.
I don't know...I guess this is a little random and rambling. Hope it makes sense. It makes sense to me.

Love, sweet love.

What is love that makes it so important to us? We write songs and stories about it. Most of our movies have at least some element of love in them, no matter if it is a superhero “guy” movie, or a children’s movie, there is love in some form in it.

I’ve been thinking about it, because I was thinking of stories I have written. Each one of them has something to do with love, even if it is a silly story about parents going overboard to protect their children, or a story of a duck who loves the ocean.

Why is love so important?

Perhaps it is because we have such a deep longing as humans for love. Even if someone denies that they desire love, you could pretty well guarantee that they are lying. You may be scared of love, scared of being hurt by it, but you still probably want to be loved.

I’m not talking only about romantic love. Other types of love are just as important and desirable. The love of a small child, who loves you unconditionally, just because you’re amazing. The love of a friend who knows everything about you, and still loves you dearly. The love of family, who protects you no matter what, because love is what holds a family together. Not just because you have to keep up appearances as a family, but because you truly love each other.

But why is it love that we are in pursuit of?

1 John 4:7-8 Beloved, let us love one another, for everyone that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not, knoweth not God for God is love.

As I was thinking about love, and why we are so adamant in our pursuit for it, this verse came to mind. Perhaps we are not truly looking simply for fulfillment of our emotional desires, but maybe we search so for love, because in truth, we are searching for God. Our hearts know that God is love, and so, even when we do not know that we are pursuing God, he is the desire of our hearts.

And each type of love that is in our lives is an example of the way God loves us, or the way we should love him. Like when you look at a little kid who loves you. They want to be with you, no matter what you’re doing. They just love you, without fail. And that is the way that I want to love God; the way that I am supposed to love him. Not only when he is doing huge things in my life, that make people take notice, but all the time.