Sunday, April 1

The testing continued after checking into our hotel. Exhausted, I plopped onto one of the twin beds in our room. I nearly broke my tailbone when the mattress refused to budge. How in the world would I be able to sleep on a bed that felt like plywood? I wondered. Self-pity began settling in. Instantly an image of villagers sleeping on mere straw mats popped into my head, and I had to ask for forgiveness and a thankful heart.

The afternoon took a turn for the better when I began making phone calls to folks living here with whom we’d networked with by email prior to this trip. One call was to a Nepalese woman whose toddler our doctor adopted last year. Our doctor had asked us to deliver an envelope containing cash and pictures, and we’d gladly agreed. Less than two hours later, this Nepalese mother showed up with her first-grader and younger brother who spoke English fairly well. The young mother beamed when we told her that her adoptive mother is caring well for her child. We took pictures of her and her family and promised to give them to the doctor and her precious little one back in Canada. She told us that she’d return tomorrow to bring gifts for her daughter and new family.

We also met with a Nepalese man who I’d interviewed via email several years ago for an American magazine article. We asked about his ministry and he told us about establishing a training institute for Nepalese pastors. The program runs for five months. Alumni have established 40 churches so far, but his vision is to establish 400.

As an independent worker, one of his greatest challenges is dealing with the lack of financial support. He requires about U.S. $500 per month for his family’s living expenses. That doesn’t sound like much to a North American, but it’s huge for the Nepalis. As we spoke further, he told us that his greatest desire is for his children to attend a private school where they can receive a good education and their faith will be encouraged. Presently they’re attending a public school where they are forced to repeat Hindu mantras everyday. He says that enrollment spaces are limited and government officials’ children receive first dibs. The only option is to send his children to a reputable boarding school in India, but that would cost about U.S. $4000 per year, and he simply doesn’t have the funds to do it. He says he’s written letters to search out foundations who will contribute financially towards the education of national missionaries’ children, but he has received no replies. I’d like to present his situation to people back in North America to see if something can be done to assist him and bless his children.