Category Archives: India

Oct24

Post 160. Pirates

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We had a tiny TV.  It was only plugged in when we wanted to watch a video.  There was no cable connection; which was perfect because we didn’t want one.  Those were the days of Anne of Green Gables, Christy, Little Mermaid and Ever After.   We watched those over and over again.

When we felt like watching something else, we rented a movie from the only video rental shop in the bazaar.  It belonged to one of the Dhobi families.  The movies were pirated and it was stressful having to look through many dodgy ones to find one decent one.  There wasn’t much else to do in Mussoorie, so his video business did well.

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Picture Palace in it’s early days.  (Photo not mine)

Oh, there was Picture Palace, the old movie theatre at the bottom of Malenga Hill in Kulri Bazaar.  Tony and I once went on a date to see Jurassic Park in Hindi.  There were no subtitles but it was pretty self-explanatory.  The theatre was as run down inside as it was on the outside. There were a few people scattered here and there, and even with the lights on, it was dark.  We sat in the back row, ready for a quick get away.  The ceiling looked precarious.  It was monsoon and there was water dripping onto the seats in different places.  We agreed to open our umbrella if the need arose.  Our surroundings added to the suspense of the runaway dinosaur in the lab.

The Video Rentals were interesting.  Most of them were filmed from the back row of a movie house.  The goal of the pirates was to get a copy of the movie, without being caught, come hell or high water.  It didn’t matter that the video camera was held still or straight.  It didn’t matter that the back of movie watchers heads took up half of the frame.  It didn’t matter either that people could be seen standing up, stretching and getting up to go to the bathroom.  It wasn’t even an issue that the movie was longer than the DVD it was recorded on.

People kept asking us if we had seen The Titanic.   When it finally came to “Pappu’s Video Rental” we snatched it up.  We put the kids to bed and pulled our double couch close to the small TV screen.  We were glued.   Jack and Rose were floating around on their plank of wood.  Lifeboats kept missing them.  Jack was freezing.  Rose kept calling, “Jack, Jack.”  Jack was holding on for his life.

Suddenly everything went digital and the DVD popped out.   We sucked in our dribble and stared at the screen in disbelief.  We looked at each other and said, “What?!!”   We watched the end years later.  Darn pirates.

Oct22

Post 159. Bath without bubbles

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We were situated on the edge of a valley in the middle of nowhere.  It was peaceful and beautiful.  The perfect spot for us; but it wasn’t long before we realised we were going to have water and electricity problems.

Our water supply was a small stream a kilometre down the hill.    We managed to get a pump, which filled a tank close by.  The problem was, we didn’t always have sufficient power to get the water to the tank.  We lived on fluctuating voltage.  When it was low, nothing worked.  When a surge came in, it blew all our light bulbs and fused our electrical appliances.  We invested in some stabilisers; which sorted that problem out.

When we first moved in, we were grateful for the low voltage.  The house wasn’t earthed.  The girls discovered that when they grabbed both taps while they were bathing.  Our computer regularly shocked us and appliances were tapped lightly to test for tingly current.   We called a guy who dug a hole in our garden and earthed us.  It was fun being able to go barefoot around the house again.

The little stream flowed quite well in the monsoon, but almost completely dried up in summer. When there was no power and no water, the guys went down the hill with buckets.  They would often find the pipe blocked with leaves and dead frogs.

On occasions, we would go without a full bath for a week at a time.  There was only enough water for the stinky bits.  Once, Guy Emery brought a bucket up for me to wash my filthy hair.  I was leaning over it, just about to scoop out a jug of water when I saw leeches wriggling around at the bottom.  I was so desperate; I just closed my eyes and kept scooping.

Friends from South Africa regularly sent me bubble foam, not realising that we didn’t have a bath.  BUT, we did have a big, blue 50 litre bucket.  I had spent a few days dreaming about having a bubble bath.  I planned it and made sure I wasn’t going to be interrupted.  It was in the monsoon so water wasn’t a problem.   I filled the bucket up with warm water and there were plenty of bubbles.   I tried to go in feet first but that didn’t work. I couldn’t sit all the way down.  I got out and reversed onto the bubbles;  my arms and legs dangling over the edge.  All my beautiful bubbles overflowed onto the floor as I hung there, not able to move.  I was stuck.  I couldn’t reach the floor and I was too far from the sink to pull myself out.  I had no option.  I called Tony to rescue me.

When he finally stopped laughing, he “tried” to pull me out.  When that didn’t work, he tipped the bucket and me onto the floor.  He told me I looked like a blue turtle and laughed some more.  I was red faced from the hot water and all the huffing and puffing.  We were in fits.  The kids came to see what all the laughter was about. My dream bubble bath had turned into a circus.  Not the quiet moment I had planned.

Our friend Anil Kapoor, owner of the Brentwood Hotel, was getting rid of a big ceramic bathtub; a REAL bathtub.  He said we could have it. The kids were so excited when it arrived.  It was heavy and a real mission to get up the stairs and into the bathroom.  We didn’t think to measure it.

When the guys moved out of the bathroom, we went in to have a look.  It fitted perfectly under the taps.  There was no plug but we could make one.  The only problem was that it was too long.  It rested on the toilet and covered part of the seat.  We all happily agreed that we could adjust our sitting styles for the sake of having a bath.  Anything for a REAL bath.

Oct16

Post 156. An accident and a short summary

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Guy Ramsbotham came for a visit.  He did a lot of driving around with Tony.  On one of their trips back to Mussoorie, they were winding their way through the Shivalik hills and were hit by a truck.  It missed the jeep’s chassis by an inch.  They went swerving towards the edge of the mountain but were stopped by a small concrete wall.  It was one of the few places where there was any kind of barrier.   Tony’s chair broke off and the driver’s side was a right off.   Guy was unharmed and Tony had some big cuts on his arm and upper back but nothing serious.  They were happy to be alive. Tony told me he had been having thoughts about dying.  After that accident he knew it wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

It took a while to get our jeep back.  It was driveable but there were some problems.  We drove around with a broken back seat, roof rack, choke and windows for a long time.  A black garbage bag was taped to the back window to keep the cold out.  It was so noisy with all the rattling, we could never hear what the kids were saying right behind us.   We drove around shouting to each other at the top of our voices.

We had written the letter we needed to write to Dudley and his team.  He sent us a very gracious reply.  Way more gracious than what our letter had been.  Replies from others started coming slowly but regularly via snail mail and faxes.  We also started getting some friendly phone calls.  It was a relief to hear that more people would be coming to help us with ACTS.  It was also good to know we didn’t have to do it alone.

Jason and Ali arrived with little Michaela.  They had come to stay.  We had waited for that moment for a long time.  They settled in quickly and were loved by everyone.

It wasn’t really working with the young lady who had come to teach Ash and Zo.  She was sweet but kept going “walkies” and didn’t seem to be able to focus on their schooling.  It was difficult  for her to settle into our life style.  We realised again how important it was to talk about expectations right from the beginning; for both sides to spell them out very clearly.   It was our experience that even though expectations were talked about, they tended to change over time.  That was fine, as long as the changes were talked about.  Talking was important.  Things didn’t work if there was no talk.

Tony brought copies of his CD “Off the Edge” back with him from South Africa.  On his way through Dubai, he realised we didn’t have anything to play the CD on.  He arrived home with a portable CD and cassette player.  We were excited to have music in the house again.

It had been a full year.  There was not a dull moment.  No day was like another.  We were kept busy from morning ‘til night with the community, trainees, family and our many visitors.  There was always someone needing a listening ear or a loving kick in the pants.   There were many relational issues and we spent hours encouraging people to forgive, talk, confront, let things go, give things up, move on and grow up.  They did.  So did we.  We all knew that if we didn’t, we weren’t going to go anywhere, or fulfil the purposes God had for us; and there was no way any of us wanted that.

Oct15

Post 155. Territorial spirit

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Pic- Hike to Kedarnath

A few months before our move, the Watkinson family joined us for a hike to the Gangotri Glacier.  We had done the hike to up to Kedarnath with the Ferreiras and Jono and Char in 1996 and now we were going to the source of the great Ganga River.

From my journal:

Tuesday:

Left at 4.30 a.m.  Gorgeous drive to Gangotri.  Huge landslides and incredibly steep gorges.  Drove over a 410-foot bridge.  Awesome and scary.  Nice weather with soft rain most of the way.  Arrived at 2 pm.  The trainees were waiting for us.  Had lunch and all slept for two hours.   Woke up with such a bad headache.  This place is full of the dark side.  Little men sitting in caves and tents doing all kinds of cultic stuff.  Incredibly powerful waterfall and amazing rock formations.

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Wednesday:

Good sleep.  Girls in one dorm, guys in another.  Set off early for Bhojbasa.  Vasanti pulled something in her leg and was in a lot of pain.  She was determined to get there.  Hiked for fourteen kilometres up to 12,385 feet.  The guys took turns to carry Jordan in his carry seat.  When the girls got tired they went on the mules; SO close to the edge at times.  It was so good to get to Bhojwasa.  Heard mice scuttling around all night. 

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Hike to Gangotri

Thursday:

Found all kinds of things in our shoes in the morning.  The mice had fun while we were sleeping.  Left early for Gaumukh.  It was a challenging nine kilometre hike but not difficult. We went up to 13,000 feet.  Did a lot of boulder climbing.  Vasanti said it was too humiliating to get on the mule,  so hobbled almost the entire way.  When she finally gave in, she was healed instantly!  SO funny.  Amazing to be at the source of the Ganga.  The glacier is HUGE.  Saw massive blocks of ice breaking off and floating down the river.

We all stood on a big rock and prayed and prophesied over India for an hour.  Good time.  Really felt God’s presence. 

It was a long walk back to Bhojbasa.   I walked most of the way with Esther.  Talked about how spiritually easy it had all been. 

That night I had a really oppressive dream.  It may have been a vision because I wasn’t able to get to sleep.  I dreamt that I was thinking how easy it had been.  Suddenly, Shiva’s face appeared.  His mouth was huge and he was laughing right in my face.  He said, “It was easy because I’m not afraid of you; twelve people praying on a rock.  This has been my territory for decades. What do you think you can do?”  The laughter was loud and intimidating.  I was struggling to breathe but didn’t want to wake anyone up.

I woke up feeling really discouraged and oppressed.  I told Tony about the dream on the hike back to Gangotri.  I felt my throat closing up and I started gasping for air.  Everyone prayed for me and I was fine.  I knew it wasn’t true.  I knew our prayers had made an impact.  I knew Jesus was more powerful and that He had been there not just for decades, but from the beginning of time.

After a night in Gangotri we drove back to Mussoorie.  It was going well until we hit very thick winter mist.  It was so scary.  We could barely see the road in front of us.  Just before we got home, Tony and I saw two huge black holes in the mist.  If we had been too distracted by them, we would have been over the cliff.  When we got to our house, we were all shaken up but so happy.

A cup of tea later and we were all in bed.  As my granddad used to say, “A nice cuppa tea and I won’t need no rockin’ tonight.

Oct9

Post 152. Made in India

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Made in India and lived there too

Rode a camel in the desert by the time I was two

Seen the stars from the dunes

Know the Bollywood tunes

Fascinating, scintillating

Life’s been good

 

From the mountains to the sea

And lots of tea

Thousands  of people on crowded streets

The rich and the poor

Came to our door

Eaten with them both

Life’s no bore

 

Hunting in the jungle, without fear

With my bow and my arrows and my Manipur spear

Making clay marbles in the village sun

Playing in the forest ‘til the day was done

Panthers in the jungle, eyes in the dark

Life’s been nothing like a walk in the park

 

Colours in the market, smells from everywhere

I wish I wasn’t white, that’s why they stare

They don’t know that inside I’m the same

An Indian dipped in bleach

Life’s a great game

(Song/rap I wrote for young Jordan)

Oct7

Post 150. Pets and small children

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It is my belief that small children and pets equal chaos.  Small children are chaotic enough.  Why add chaos to chaos?  My default is an easy “no.”  “No,” to cleaning up the mess.  “No,” to house training (potty training is stressful enough.) “No,” to lying to my kids about pet heaven.  “No,” to needing to comfort them when they wake up and find stiff pets.  “No,” to trying to explain death to little people who have just started living.

I wanted it to be a rule.  NO PETS ALLOWED.  No exceptions.  Oh, just one.  When you’re old enough to move out of our house and into your own, you can have as many pets as you want.

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When some lovely villagers presented our wide-eyed girls with two fluffy yellow chickens, I didn’t have the heart to stick to the rules.  We actually got excited.  Tony even made a little hatch for them in our stairwell.  At that stage we weren’t thinking about how ugly they were going to become or that they may not even make it to toddler stage.  We built that cage like they were going to live forever.

They had barely lost their yellowness when Zoë accidently fell on hers.  It died instantly.  The other one ran onto the road and got eaten by a dog.  That was that.  The hatch was cleaned and emptied and I planned to keep it that way.

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Along came two fluffy baby rabbits.  More gifts.  Gifts are hard to turn down; especially fluffy ones.  They moved into the hatch and the girls loved them.  Their names were Thumper and Marsha.  We didn’t think to bring them inside when winter set in and they froze.  More tears.

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Sasha was about 6 weeks old when we found her on the road in front of our house.  Some boys were teasing her and poking her with sticks.  Her thick coat was henna-red and she had light brown eyes.  Friends of ours told us she was a Bhotia mountain dog.  She was so pretty.  The girls begged us to get her and kept calling her from the balcony.  Tony said, “If she comes onto our property, we’ll keep her.”  She did.  It was love at first sight.

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She was incredibly gentle with our children and anyone who visited us.  She loved wandering around the hillside and would come home in the afternoon.  We wondered where she went for her long walks.

She was “told on” when her tummy started getting big and the girls were thrilled to watch her giving birth to her first litter.  Her puppies were cute and easy to give away.   We resisted the temptation to keep one of them.  After three litters we decided to neuter her.

Tony took her to the only vet in Mussoorie.    He was chubby and his assistant was skinny.   We never checked their credentials.  They were our only option.  The operation was done and she was brought home to recover.   Two months later she was pregnant.  Tony called the vet:

Tony:  Our dog is pregnant

Vet: How did that happen?

Tony:  You tell me.  You did the operation.

Goodness knows what they did to her.  She had two more litters after that.

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Someone in the neighbourhood complained that Sasha was being a pest.  A few days later we heard her coughing and found her frothing at the mouth.  She was struggling to walk and came upstairs to lie down.  Within minutes she was stiff and not responding at all.  We tried to give her water but she couldn’t open her mouth.  Tony called our one and only vet and his assistant.  They looked so funny coming down the hill on their scooter with their suspicious looking little bag.  Tony whispered, “Here comes dumb and dumber.”

There was nothing they could do.  They left; leaving us with the conclusion that Sasha had been poisoned.   The community was around her.  We were all crying.  Suddenly Asha raised her voice and said, “If Jesus can heal people, He can heal Sasha.”  We all agreed.  Crying turned to praying.  Ash was full of faith.

Within minutes, Sasha’s breathing got stronger.  Her limbs started relaxing and she was sipping the water we gave her.  She was totally healed.  The celebration was incredible.  We had all just witnessed a miracle.  It wasn’t long before Sasha was back to normal, ready to roam around, irritating the neighbours who had tried to poison her.

Tony called the vet to let him know.  This time when he asked the question, “How did that happen?”  Tony was able to tell him.  Jesus did it and unlike the failed neutering operation, He did a good job.

Oct3

Post 149. Necessity- The mother of invention

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My mind wouldn’t stop.  It was full of ideas and they all ran into each other.   I would lie awake in the early hours of the morning and think, scheme, dream and plan.

There were rosters with names and what people could do.  Rosters for Sundays, for mid-week meetings, prayer meetings and for the trainees cooking, leading and cleaning duties.  It was never ending.

I had a dream to have a domestic training course for ladies so they could get better jobs.  I wanted to teach them how to cook, bake and run a household.  I wanted to call it “Excellent Ayah’s Training School.”  I wrote out a whole curriculum for that course.  Other things took priority over this dream, so it all stayed in my notebook.

I started writing a booklet called, “Goal Oriented Parenting,” which I wanted to get translated into Hindi.  I kept putting the book off, but I was able to use the notes to teach on parenting.  I spent hours planning our times with married couples too.

My burden for the students at Woodstock kept me awake.  I wrote out pages of notes on “Mating and Dating,” and enjoyed sharing those things with them.

I woke up in the early hours one morning, with the phrase, “We agree to supersede this generation.”  Then two words: Super Seeds.  I thought it was a good name for a children’s playgroup.  When I woke up I created a letterhead.  It stayed in my file for a long time.

If our community was facing a problem I would brainstorm until it was solved.

Sometimes I would lie awake and invent things.  If I had known how to patent my wild ideas, I might have become quite famous.

We were constantly running out of water and there were power cuts almost every day.  Fortunately we had gas to cook on, but it was hard to do anything once the sun went down.  I was better with no electricity than I was without water.

Ironically, during a typically heavy monsoon, we had no water.  There were 15 of us sharing one tank and it was empty.  We tried to keep the lid open but it was narrow and didn’t let much rain in.  The trainees sat around for hours, complaining about not having water.  When the rain subsided a bit I went onto the roof.  Water had collected in the corner and it was gushing over the gutter and onto the road below our house.  I went downstairs and got some plastic soft drink bottles, string, tape and a sharp knife.  I called the trainees up and started “bossing” them around.  I got them cutting the bottles in half and taping them up.  We had to tie part of it to a nearby tree to get some support.  Before we knew it, we had made a pipe running from the roof and back onto our open courtyard on the ground floor.  We sat and waited for the rain.

When it came, it bucketed down.  Our homemade pipe held up and we had gallons of water gushing out right on our doorstep.  There was so much shouting and laughing.  Someone got the soap and shampoo and we all had a shower (fully clothed).  We filled up all our buckets and cooking pots.  When we had done all that, we took full advantage of the free water.   We danced in our homemade waterfall like only Indians could.

The next day, I spent time with the trainees.  I asked them what lesson they had learnt.  I talked about how, into their future, they may not have anything.  They may find themselves with no water or shelter or work.  Would they just sit around and complain or would they do something about it?  Would they look at their situation or would they look for a solution?  Would they be a pain or would they make a plan?

It was important for us all to learn how to make the best of a bad situation.  Sitting around praying for water wasn’t the answer.  Using our brains, coming up with an idea and a creative plan was what worked.  It wasn’t difficult; we just had to get off our butts.

Oct2

Post 148. A real quandary

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We were struggling.  We had written to our many international team friends a few times to ask them to help us with our training.  One or two responded but we still needed so much help.  It seemed that people had lost interest in what we were doing in India and we felt a bit let down.  We wondered if what had happened with Rig and Sue had affected people’s attitudes toward us.  We also wondered if people felt we weren’t doing things well or quickly enough.  Things felt a bit strange and we had no idea why.

There was so much talk about friendship and support but we weren’t seeing it.  We were disappointed and didn’t know what to do.  It had been going on for some time and we had tried to overlook it.

Old friends from our Waverley community were solid in our lives.  We regularly got letters and calls from the Currins,  Jeannots,  Gill McClaren, the Fouches,  Bromleys and others.  Derek and Di Hohls were amazing at getting our news out to our long list of friends.  There was no issue with them.  Dudley and Margi Reed were always there as were Rig and Sue.

Locally, things were good.  We had amazing friends who were supportive and loving.  They sent us birthday cards and called us for our anniversaries.  They knew and loved our children and our community.   There was an interest in our lives and what we were doing.  We knew we could call them at any time and they would hear us out.  There were many sleepovers and weekends together and there was no lack of love.

Arun and JoyAnn were in Bombay and just a phone call away.  Duncan and Vasanti were also our good friends.  Vasanti would call me and greet me with, “Greetings, mighty woman of God!”  I was always so encouraged by her.  We felt locals could identify with us.  They knew the culture and the issues we were facing.  It was so easy.  We didn’t have to spend ages explaining things to them.  They just knew and they knew how to encourage us.

That was what we were missing.  People who weren’t so concerned about what we were doing but about how we were doing.  We needed people who would challenge and be with us when we were walking through difficult times.  We never wanted to do our own thing and knew how important it was to be in close relationships with people who could really watch over us.  We wondered what would happen if the wheels came off for us.  Would anyone come at the drop of a hat?  Was it practical to be accountable to people who were so far away?

Financially we were really strapped.  There were a few friends who sent us gifts when they were able to.  We really appreciated it.  The community was growing and people were giving as much as they could but most were living on daily wages.  Our friends who were connected with another team were surprised we weren’t being financially supported.  We started to question the reality of the relationships if no one was asking how we were doing.  Some asked, but weren’t able to do anything about it.  Others seemed able to help but for some reason didn’t feel they needed to.  We were confused and in a quandary.

We had sleepless nights wondering what we were going to do.  It seemed logical that we should have stronger relationships where we were, with people who were living and working with us.  We needed input and encouragement regularly.  Was it realistic to expect people living in other countries to be interested in what we were doing and how we were doing?  They were busy with their own lives  There was so much going on all around the world at the time.  Everyone seemed stretched beyond capacity.  Everyone seemed tired from all the travelling they were doing.

How did India feature?  Was it too far away?  Too difficult?  Too uncomfortable?  Were we doing something wrong?

We had no idea, but we knew we had to talk.

(1997)

Sep30

Post 146. The big trip to visit friends

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From my journal: Jan 1997

Last day in Jaisalmer: Tony took the girls to the fort to get our cotton pants sewn up.  The crotches all ripped during the safari.

Gazi’s jeep took us to the bus bound for Jodhpur.  Jordan has been so good with all the travelling.  He has missed meals but complained very little.  He’s been sleeping a lot on the bus and train rides.  There have been times when he has been overtired and got very wound up.  Ash and Zo have been great.  The “luxury” buses have been jammed packed.  Sometimes two people on a seat and all down the aisle. 

Arrived in Jodhpur.  Gazi had organised a hotel for us.  No charge.  We had amazing pizzas and other delicious goodies.  Walked across to the railway station at 9.30am the next day to catch a train to Udaipur.  1st class made such a difference.  Slept well on wide berths and there was even a door.  Dog train- stopped at every station.  It was so slow. Jordan had chronic diahorrea in the morning.

In Udaipur we were met by Anis,  Gazi’s cousin and taken to his hotel.  Nice room and food.  Met the Cook family.  That was such a surprise.  Went shopping and looking around.  Got beautiful leather/fabric covered journals.  Such a beautiful view from the rooftops.  Jordan was VERY sick. Fever, no appetite, listless, sleeping a lot.  Poor thing.

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A few days later -got on the train to Delhi.  Stayed with our friends Andries and Brenda and their children, Sarah and Simon for a few days. It was sad to say goodbye to Ben and Trace.  We had such fun with them.  Jordan better but still very lethargic.

Andries was out all day and got home late afternoon.  We asked him what he had done and his reply was, “I sent a fax.”  We laughed so much.  There were so many power cuts.

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Nineteen-hour train trip to Nagpur, Central India was good.  Sunil picked us up in their jeep.  Drove four and a half hours to their home in Yavatmal.  So lovely to be with Pam, Rebekah, Anna and Jess.  Spent five days with them.  The girls got quite sick.  Jordan was still throwing up. 

Didn’t feel like another train ride, but got on an overnight one to Varanasi.   Jordan was back to normal so it was way more tiring this trip.  All over the carriage, asking for food, water, pens.  Not still for a minute. I’m not feeling too great.  Have been queasy for a few days.  A bit anxious I might be pregnant.

Ruth Benjamin (ex-Woodstock student) and her driver picked us up and drove us to Robertsganj.  Tony has been invited to share at a conference on their hospital compound.  Lovely to see Ruth again and meet her family.  We are being looked after so well.  Such delicious food and a beautiful compound.  We were able to watch a lens transplant performed on a 90 year old lady.  All manually done.  Incredible.  Also watched a caesarean section.  Wow.  They are doing such an amazing job here.  The peace of God is all over the compound.

Back to Varanasi for a few days.  Got a chronic throat infection and Jordan sick again.  Went on a boat down the Ganga.  So distressing to see people trying to wash their sins away.  Can’t wait to get home now. 

Another 27 hour train ride later arrived in Dehra Dun and got a taxi to Mussoorie.

What a trip! Rajasthan-Delhi-Varanasi-Robertsganj-Dehra Dun-Mussoorie.  Got home feeling quite wasted but happy we did it.  Tony on a bit of a downer.  Cranky and irritable; Wondering what we are doing here.  Comparing?  We’ll be fine.  Just tired I think. 

Sep25

Post 144. Jaisalmer

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Journal: 1 Jan 1997

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Sleeping under a sky of stars

Lying on cold desert sand

Reminded of the creativity of our Creator

Lying close to the man I love

More than anyone else in the world:

God’s love

Watching our three gorgeous children playing on the dunes:

God’s life

Fascinated by the hilarious camels:

God’s wild sense of humour

In the early hours of the morning

Watching shooting stars:

God’s fireworks

The silence of the desert:

God’s peace

All of this for us

And us for Him:

God’s pleasure

Knowing the Creator

Being known by Him

Realising again

That He loves me more than anything