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My Bangladesh Adventure  (part two)

by Melodious Echo

I stumbled down the broken sidewalk at night, dodging mud puddles, bricks, smelly garbage, and crippled beggars. It was hot and muggy, with flies and mosquitoes buzzing all around. The stench and filth was so nauseating I could hardly breathe. “How do these people live here?” I wondered. No fresh air, constant noise, overwhelming putrid smells.


It was our first night in the city of Dhaka (Bangladesh’s capital of almost 4 million residents), and after traveling for over twenty hours in airplanes, I was glad for a chance to stretch my legs and get out to see the people.

But though I had been to many developing countries before, no one had prepared me for this! Everywhere I turned was destruction, decay and death. A leper minus his legs sat propped up in a broken wheelbarrow begging for money. His family had probably put him there to earn the income for the evening. A crippled child hobbled by on crutches and seeing us, quickly called out in Bengali for some money. I don’t understand the language, but I knew what she was asking for. I slipped her some bills, but then suddenly there were many more clamoring around seeking for the same. I sadly moved on as I knew I didn’t have enough money to give to everyone. “You can’t give money away! You’ll be mobbed!” Our guide chided. “You must ignore the beggars and keep walking.”

I’m a country girl from the Ozarks of Arkansas, currently serving as a "missionary" in Southern California. While a Registered Nurse by profession, most of my time is spent working with various youth ministries, overseas missions, orphan ministries, doing personal evangelism, and writing/blogging to encourage my friends in their walk with God. I love living the adventure of the "Set-Apart Life" and my greatest interest and passion is living daily for my King, and sharing the joy of this journey with others.

A BIT ABOUT the AUTHOR:

      hiking in the mountains  .  teddy bears  .  special dates with God

quiet streams  .  feeding a hungry child  .  heart-to-heart with girlfriends

                                 true love stories  .  morning sunshine

“How can I keep walking past all these people?” my heart cried. “How can I simply press my way through and go on?” A naked baby sat playing with a piece of dirty cardboard in the middle of the path, all alone. We knelt down and talked to him, and he looked up with blank, empty eyes. No emotion, no feeling.


“Where’s his mother?” I asked. “Oh she’s probably working in the market.” our guide responded.


“You mean, she would just leave the baby here?” I asked incredulously. It was all so far beyond my comprehension. We gave him a banana and moved on.


A few steps down, we passed more street vendors, and several more naked babies sleeping on dusty mats with no blankets in sight. “When you see them out like this, it means their mother doesn’t have a home. Her husband has either died or divorced her, and she and her children are forced to live on the streets,” our guide informed us. If that was the case, it looked like most of the Bengali women had been cruelly abandoned or widowed, for there were a lot of babies and small children on the streets. My heart numbly took in the information as I passed.


Finally our guide led us through some glass doors and into a modern looking building. Then a guard met us and escorted us up an elevator. Stepping out of the elevator, our eyes were greeted by the sight of tables of food. The aroma was a sweet contrast to the dank street we had just left. Gentle music filled the room, and crystal glittered in the candle-light. Our host, hoping to make us Americans feel more at home, had arranged for us to have our evening meal at this small upper class restaurant. While it was one of the only safe places for foreigners like ourselves to eat, my teammates and I struggled eating the food. It was hot and spicy and not really in-tune with our soft American taste buds.  But even more difficult was the knowledge that just outside, many people were starving. How could we eat like this when so many just a few feet away had nothing? 

As we talked and calculated what the meal cost us (a mere $10 dollars in US currency) we realized that $10 dollars would supply over 300 children with a banana, or a few less with a full course meal of rice and dahl. To us, $10 dollars was nothing and we often spent it carelessly in the States, on a new shirt at Wal-Mart, on some cake and ice-cream for a party, or buying new iTunes for our iPods…but in this country, it meant a lot more. I was shocked with the realization, and together my teammates and I determined, as long as we were in Dhaka, that there would be no more upper class restaurants for us. We would live on bread and butter in our own rooms, so we could save our few American dollars to give away bananas.


But this was only the first night in Bangladesh.


Gradually the days went on and I accustomed myself to the sights, sounds, and smells of the city and its poverty. My teammates and I learned a variety of ways to eat bread and bananas, and we made it a habit to carry a bag of bananas with us wherever we went, so we could at least have something to share. “Most people are too poor to even buy fruit...they live on white rice alone, so a banana is good nutrition when they can get it,” our missionary host had told us.

Each day, we visited different schools in the slums – schools started by our missionary host to reach the Muslim and Hindu children…children that otherwise would never have a chance at education.  The little hands that clamored for my own were often sticky and dirty, and my heart was warmed by the love and eagerness of the children. But I sadly realized that for every child that had made their way to these schools, there were hundreds more on the streets, working as slaves, begging, scrounging for food, or just running free like wild animals trying to stay alive. My heart ached for the children and for the poverty that was everywhere.


One girl in particular grabbed my heart one day. She was about 7 or 8 and had sad quiet eyes. She never said a word but just clung to my side. She followed me out to our van still holding on to my hand tightly, and when we drove away there were tears in her eyes. She’d never spoken a word, but my heart was bleeding...What haunted her life? What reality was her home? I could not even imagine.


“Why can’t I take her home with me? Why can’t I take away her pain? God, I can’t handle all this suffering!” I cried inwardly as we bumped along through the dirty streets. “There’s no end to it...it’s everywhere! How can I begin to reach these people for you? This is too great a task for me!” The tears began to fall unashamedly.

“Yes, it is too great a task for you...” God replied softly. “I told you it would be. But I want you to catch a vision of my heart…I want you to catch a vision of my purpose!”


I sat in silence trying to soak it all in…my teammates were also silent. But God’s voice continued to speak to my heart…


“You see these lost children in Bangladesh, these children that are breaking your heart? They are just like all the other lost children around the world, Mel. You may love these children and want to take them back to your country…you may even be willing to adopt a few and give them a better education and a better life. But my vision and purpose is so much bigger.


“You see, I love these little ones with all my heart. So much, that I gave up my only Son to die for them...and not only them, but every one in every country all around the world! However, my Son didn’t die so that they could just have a better education and a little less hunger …He died so they could be set free…not just from filth and hunger, but from eternal sin and death…”


Just as you cannot begin to meet all the needs or clean up the filth in this city of Dhaka by yourself….so it is that you cannot begin to share this life-saving news with anyone in your own strength…either here or back in your own country. You must understand, the task is so great, it is humanly impossible!”


My mind struggled to wrap its self around the concept that God was speaking to my heart.


“You see, my vision and my purpose is so big, you cannot comprehend it!! But just as my vision and purpose is big, so is my strength!”


“Do you remember when you arrived in Bangladesh, and your first night in the streets, you questioned, How can they live this way? I know this will startle you, Mel, and all those you share this with…but I often ask the same question myself…”


“How can the vast majority of My believers live the way they do…going to church one day a week, volunteering at a soup-kitchen now and then, maybe praying occasionally with a fellow co-worker, and yet….for the most part, carrying on in their lives and careers as though everything is just fine when inwardly their hearts are corrupt and filled with selfishness?  My Son died to give them so much more! Yet, they go on day after day, buying things they don’t need, paying for luxuries they can’t afford, and trying to build a perfect life for themselves that really doesn’t count. And yet My bigger purpose for their lives is hardly comprehended…let alone achieved!”

God’s voice continued…“My heart breaks for both Bangladesh and my church of believers around the world. Both are in need of a serious cleaning…the only difference is, in Bangladesh…it is much more obvious to you humans!”

“He that saith he abideth in him ought himself also so to walk, even as he walked.  For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.”

(I John 2:6, 16)

“Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.”

(I Samuel 16:7)

What could I say, as always, God was right…I sat ashamed of myself, and ashamed of the modern church and body of believers I all too often had represented. Yet God did not leave me to my despair…and resounding in my heart was His call… “My Son died to give you so much more!”

I spent over three beautiful weeks in Bangladesh... often in settings less that ideal, and in circumstances less that pleasant... yet, during this time God continued to impress upon my heart the beauty of His call...

“I beseech you therefore brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.  And be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable, and perfect will of God.” 

(Romans 12:1,2)

not just to reach the people of Bangladesh (although they now have become a big part of my life), but to reach my friends and fellow believers in our modern world and church…and so He gives the same call to each of us!

“For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord: walk as children of the light.”

(Ephesians 5:8)


“Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.”

(Mark 16:15)

He doesn’t ask us to have the skills, He doesn’t ask us to have the strength, He doesn’t even ask us to make the plan…He simply asks, “Are you willing to surrender…to be cleansed and equipped by My power and then to go and follow in My footsteps to reach the lost?”


And so I’ve realized in a more powerful way than ever before, that living a life of “obedient surrender” is all that truly matters in this life…for nothing we work to build or achieve in our lifetimes will last or eternally matter…nothing, unless it is rescuing a dying soul and building the Kingdom of God.

I’ve realized that this path of surrender will not always be easy…in fact, most of the time, it will be quite difficult! It may lead us to the jungles of South America, the cold plains of Northern Asia, or to the dark cities of Africa. Or that call may lead us to the inner streets of Chicago, the remote towns of the South, or the challenging inner-workings of our own churches...but trust me,  from one who has taken the first steps into this exciting adventure, it is the path of greatest joy!


The question is, will WE answer His Call?  David Livingston said it beautifully: If a commission by an earthly king is considered an honor, how can a commission by a Heavenly king be considered a sacrifice?  *

“Then said Jesus unto his disciples, ‘If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.  For whosoever will wave his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.”

(Matthew 16:24-25

“These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.”

(John 15:11)

“Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all these things will be added unto you!”

(Matthew 6:33)

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