Here now a week now in India. We are at the orphanage getting ready for the three day conference, where i most likely will be playing with children and getting dirty. The men in this group are the fab five, styling hand tailored indian shirts for the conference.

3 days ago while i was waiting outside the post office in the hot indian sun, while ullas and mike were making a western union transaction that took hours, I decided to pull out some drawing pencils i bought here and sketch the street and the shops by the post office. Many passer by's stopped by to get a glance at my drawing, some thought i was drawing a map.

Mike asked if i could draw and paint a mural in the kids' classroom after discovering i could draw. So i sketched out a picture of Jesus with black hair and black eyes and and gave him a nice tan, close to a indian skin tone, placed a big red heart on his chest, with his arms out to the side with palms up their is a golden glow around his body he is standing on a grass with purple flowers. To the left of the grass is a small mural of ocean waves with the sunrise in the background with mountains.

The kids were mesmerized by the painting, before i was finished the lord said to me write above the painting " I am the Lord I am the King" and it was finished. Two days later with alot of unused paint which fell on a monday, we had all day to prepare for the conference, I decided to bring vibrant color to the plain concrete walls to the girls room, By the way, the asian wall paint Im using is highly toxic, I did not eat paint chips while I was a kid.

I sketched out noah's arc filled with 2 elephants, 2 giraffes, Tucan sam, a pink hippo---Props to Mary Clark, and of course i represented with a bengal tiger, below are ocean waves that connect all three walls in the center of the room are two windows facing you as you walk in, in the center of the windows is a mountain floating on the ocean with a glowing cross erecting from the center of the mountain with a small green forest in the background.

The group wanted me to paint a dove with a olive branch and a rainbow. Dizzy from hours of painting and the fumes i retired, and Meredith took over and painted a dove and a rainbow above the mountain, She got sick from the fumes and had to leave, The lord insisted i finish the outline of the dove and rainbow that was unfinished and asked me to bless the painting in his name. The girls and boys of the orphange were already at the conference. Im looking forward to seeing the girls reaction to their room. Ullas asked "where is noah? why isn't he on the arc?" I replied "he is downstairs sleeping."

Posted by Max Gruber at 11:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This became the craziest day I have had in India and this place is so wild it takes a lot to qualify as the craziest. We went to a neighboring village to have Sunday morning church service. Everyone at the orphanage wakes up at 5:30 every morning. By the time we had church at 10 am the little ones were starting to doze off. Several were nodding off while clapping to a song. I asked Mike if I could grab one of the boys who kept falling forward and almost hitting his mouth on a concrete step. Mike grabbed him and sat him in my lap. It took him about an hour to get comfortable and relax in my arms and sleep. Once he fell asleep he was out.
Meredith also had a girl fall asleep in her arms. Her little one would not wake up when church was over. So she rode with us to pray for the pastor of the church who was having some sort of paralysis. After we prayed we piled in the Jeep that holds 10 with 10 adults and 15 children. On the way home the little girl Meredith was holding started throwing up. We were so crammed and the road was so narrow there was nothing to do but keep going to the orphanage.
When we returned to the orphanage Meredith and I asked KK if we could take a rickshaw back to the hotel to change. We found a rickshaw driver who said he knew where our hotel was but really just brought us to the center of town. That was ok because the hotel was just around the corner. We ran inside but the power was still out so we found more clothes in the dark, ran back to the rickshaw, and continued home. There was a festival about to begin so things were kind of crazy in town and felt more populated than usual which is hard to say because this “small town” is double the size of the Beaches population. Our rickshaw driver was an older man and very very skinny. Our ride there and back took longer than we anticipated.
The man took us back to orphanage and we paid him. As we walked away about 20 feet we heard loud honking behind us and a commotion and then shouting. We turned to see our rickshaw driver rolling on the ground and his rickshaw turned over and a taxi speeding away. Everyone was rushing to him and shouting. We didn’t know what to do. Meredith walked over to see if he was ok and I ran inside to find KK. We came outside to find they had moved him off the road and we gave him some water. Miraculously he was only scraped up but his leg hurt. Two men put him in the back of his rickshaw and took him to the hospital.
Meredith and I came inside and joined the boys at lunch who were oblivious to anything that had happened. We were very shook up and ate very little. It was such a surreal thing. The man’s face kept going through my mind.
We then took a 45 minute ride to an orphanage and played with a lot of kids. They had a lot of older kids at this orphanage. There was a different dynamic trying to interact with older kids versus younger kids and without knowing the language. We try out the words we have learned but they look at us like we have three heads. I guess we have really bad accents.  This was not my typical day!!!! The people who go to India have always said T I I – This Is India…but this day made it so real.

Posted by Brooke Townsend at 11:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I apologize for the lack of updates! Between internet issues and having no time, we've gotten very little blogging done. Anyway, I'm posting up what we have so far. It will be intermittent at best over the rest of the trip, so not a lot changing!

See you guys in a while.

PS. Important phrases: "Thank You, Come Again", "Think About It", and "Cow Juice"

Posted by Jeremy Brookins at 6:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

We left Calcutta by train to a town called Malda…in the province of Malda. I was confused for a bit there. Anyway, the train ride overnight was great and our nearness to the first class train car meant a break from being incessantly woken up to be asked if I wanted “Chai! Coffee!” that tends to go on ALL NIGHT LONG on the trains last time around…

Anyway, Gangarampur is a typical Indian town, which means it's about 100,000 people packed into a very small area about 15 minutes away from the place before it. The difference this time around is that the area is almost entirely Hindu (Aside from the orphanage, there is only one family of believers). Coupled with the fact that the BJP (a Hindu political party with hardline views on other religions and outsiders) being fairly strong in the area, it's made for some fairly tense moments.

The hotel isn't nearly as bad as Mike made it sound, KK Ullas' wife and the two other women that live here are absolutely amazing cooks, and there haven't been any openly hostile moments, so thus far, it's absolutely amazing!

Anyway, more later.

Posted by Jeremy Brookins at 6:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Hey Guys, I am ALIVE and well!! :) Thank you everyone who has helped me to make this trip possible. It is very good for my soul!! :), and thank you everyone who has been praying for me ans everyone else on the trip. We definetely need your prayers, though no more than you all need ours. God has taught me so much on this trip, and our climatic event begins tomorrow. Great Praise is due to God for all the wonderful things He is doing. So much credit is robbed of Him and given to His servants instead. Thank you everyone who has taken care of me and enebled this Life to happen. Goodbye everybody for my time is short and there is much need for this computer. I Love you all, and don't worry for I am in good hands. Amen. And for that very special lady out there waiting for my return, I miss you very much as I am sure is true on your end, I will be home soon and my Love will be abounding for all. Praise God, He is wonderful!

Posted by Chris Reeves at 6:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Today we are preparing for the pastors conference. We will have to run a VBS for 200 kids that don’t speak the same languages and do not know English. We have gone shopping many times for supplies. The market here is insane! Small open shops one after the other. One time we sat in the Jeep for twenty minutes waiting on the pastor. He got in and drove twenty feet to a shop and stopped. We all started laughing. T.I.I. –This Is India was all we could tell ourselves. Once you find the shop you need communicating what we are looking for is interesting. We attract quite a crowd. You spend five minutes looking in a shop and turn around and twenty people have gathered to look at you.
We spent time in a remote village yesterday afternoon. The countryside is beautiful! We were 30 km from the Bangladesh border. Meredith and I brought paper and crayons to the girls. They took us to their room and we spent a long time drawing things and asking how to say it in their tribal language. It was a good way to break down the barriers. I drank water from a village well. I didn’t know they took one of our empty bottles and filled it up. Thankfully I have lived to tell about it today.
Indians are so hospitable. Every shop you go to they insist you sit down. They bring you soda in glass bottles. They villages always make you the hottest tastiest chai tea. At meal times you are always being served more. I am walking, playing, sweating a lot and I will still gain weight here because they feed you so much. You haven’t lived until you’ve had egg curry in the morning!!!
Praise the Lord!!!!

Posted by Brooke Townsend at 6:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I don’t really want to include travel as a part of the blog but a word about that, God was and is awesome. He blessed his servants with smooth travel, swift moves through security checkpoints that were, aberrantly without lines, and sleep on turbulent airplanes and swaying trains. Praise the Lord!
Day 1: I have to be honest I have difficulty time writing knowing that other people will be reading what I write. I hope my words aren’t confusing, though confused is a good way to described how I felt once entering the city of New Delhi. Jet lag hadn’t set in yet but the city around me has me disoriented. The visual collision of opulence with poverty is emotionally and physically abrasive. A billboard advertising diamonds and extravagant beauty is put to a more serviceable nature by shading just a few of the innumerable people that are destitute on the streets. They cover the ground almost as much as the trash that litters the streets. I don’t say this in a derogatory voice, it is only meant to give you a drop of the ocean of bodies that inhabit the streets.
The confusion began after the airport doors were behind us. The desperation of the people is haunting, coming within inches of my body as they beg for money. I feel heavy. This rude awakening to a harsh reality should have brought me back to earth but I feel like I am in a space between sleeping and waking, in a suspended dream. I can’t absorb everything but the lights and colors of the city are a beautiful blur. The people are hard but broken. The streets are like a moment of anticipation captured and kept in a dirty jar. Everything seems temporary yet permanent.
We arrive at the first orphanage and I already am exhausted. I feel as though I have nothing to give. Inside the children are eager and their eagerness is infectious. The room is bare and they sit on small rugs on the floor. The fan above us is a steady drum and as if they don’t realize what is around them, or rather what isn’t around them, they sing for us a Hindi song of welcome. They sing for us. Despite their maladies, despite their lack, despite the fact that we came to bless them they sing for us. I love the universality of a smile, round cheeks and white teeth, so big on their little faces. We bring them cricket bats, skipping ropes and footballs (real football), teach them clapping games and songs. They give us love and kisses and teach us humility and gratefulness. My weight seems lighter.

Day 2: Traveling from Kolkatta to Gangarampur I witness several of the most honorable aspects of the Indian people, manifest in the form of K.K. Ullas our interpreter, guide, and friend. After traveling a full day to meet us in Kolkatta, he brought us safely to the train and insured that we were all comfortably sleeping before he tended to his own tiredness. He stayed up long after we had gone to sleep waiting for another passenger to arrive to get his own bunk. When asked if he was tired the most you would ever manage to hear him admit was, “a little.” Our comfort was his foremost concern. I watched him sit on the train quietly and pray until he noticed I wasn’t sleeping and closed the curtain.
Sacrifice is a common occurrence in the Immanuel Orphanages. If something is given to one it is shared with the rest.
The drive from the train station to Ullas’ orphanage in Gangarampur gave us a beautiful tour of the rural areas of West Bengal and several scares along with it. Driving in India is a breed of skill that I’m not sure can be acquired. I wonder if it isn’t something that you are born with. If the cars came with strings attached to their backs they would, no doubt, create an intricate pattern, bright enough even for an Indian woman. They weave in and out of other cars, rickshaws, and pedestrians, so close there is no room to breathe. While honking your horn in the United Stated may end in your demise, not honking your horn in India will definitely get you killed.
I have and never seen a more beautiful group of children. While some may be partial to their own offspring, to me there is nothing in this world that will challenge the children in the Immanuel Orphanage of Gangarampur. I dare you to come here and tell me any different. Their huge eyes are like puddles of ink. Their clear brown skin is challenged by the white teeth of smiles so big they should be falling off their faces. The boys are boys trying to be men, audacious, strong and gentle. They watch what we do, absorbing everything and practicing later when no one is in sight. The girls are clever and impetuous. They could live for days on kisses, dances and glitter. I dare you to come here and not want to take them all home with you. I have already threatened to do so several times.

Day 3: We spent most of the day shopping in a Gangarampur market. The shops are like huts that have been constructed temporarily, but temporary has a much longer lifespan here than it does in the United States. In India temporary seems to be akin to permanent. We sit for what seems like forever in the heat waiting for the shop owners to display all of their wares, whether we want them to or not. Once that is finished, they spend what seems like another forever trying to convince us that we do, in fact, want them.
Shopping in India, to an American, is trying. We have everything in the convenience of one store and groan if we have to go to another. Here, convenience is, not having to go to another town to get what you need. Shopping for an entire day, left us having only purchased a third of the items needed for the orphanages and the potential of several additional shopping days.
We finish the day at a home church service. Sitting outside, illuminated by three oil lanterns, lulled by the modest sound of children singing. People come forward for prayer and as we lay hands on them the children begin to pray. It breaks my heart to hear them pray. Earnest faces, and tightly clenched hands, and a sound that I have never hear before. The Bible says that the Holy Spirit makes intercession on our behalf to the Lord, in groans that cannot be uttered, I think that the prayers of those children is the closest thing I will ever hear to that.

Posted by Meredith Clark at 6:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

So, Calcutta. It’s the city “featured” in the documentary/photojournal “Born into Brothels”. I’ve been told it’s one of the worst cities in the world. It has less people than Mumbai, yet seems more desperate. It’s also home to the Calcutta Bible Society, which is integral in making large quantities of Bibles and other things available for very cheap prices, and an Emmanuel orphanage with 26 kids.

This particular orphanage consists largely of the children of prisoners at the federal prison in Calcutta. This is the worst prison in India, extremely tough and considered worse than the notorious Soviet Gulags, so the chances of these children ever seeing their parents again are very slim. The pastor is currently trying to remove a couple of children who were imprisoned with their mother when there was no one to care for them.

The orphanage is situated right next to a stagnant pond covered in green scum, and there’s a very small plot of open land nearby. We took the children to play in the little lot for a while, and one of the neighbors remarked that this was the first time the children had been permitted to play there. I don’t know whether it was the pastor or the land owner that usually did not give permission, but our presence caused a concession to the norm.

The kids were fantastic! Warm and friendly; very chatty though you just had to shrug and nod your head. It’s slightly frustrated to have a seven year old girl chattering her head off at you and the only word you understand is “Uncle”. It seems that fewer children speak English this time around.

While we were there, we also spoke to some of the locals. One of them, a young muslim man named Cotter (or something like that!) was extremely friendly. We were able to speak to him some about God and what we believed. It was interesting to hear his views, which I’m sure weren’t entirely muslim, and be able to share Jesus with him. He didn’t get it, but he was open to speaking of it, which is possibly a huge step. He is close friends with the pastor’s son, so I am hopeful that he will see the work being done and come to know the Truth.

Posted by Jeremy Brookins at 5:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I’ve not had time really to blog or journal until now (read: “I’ve been horribly lazy and gone to bed as soon as I got back to the hotel.”). I actually had about 5 paragraphs written out before when Sam accidentally unplugged the computer. I think I cried.

Anyway, this has been a really different trip from the last time. I mean, much of the same things I saw last time are the same; desperate poverty, trash everywhere, extremely dirty conditions, and a culture that uses it’s gods to shill candy bars. However, being based out of a single location and doing day trips to really rural areas has been amazing.

Before, in southern India, even the “rural” areas were in very populated areas. Here in West Bengal, we’ve been to mud hut villages in the middle of huge fields of rice patties. Mike explained it best: “Apocalypse Now”. The villages are very tribal, the towns (by town, I mean 100,000 people) very compact and worn down. Where there is power, there are rolling black outs or brown outs, but most of the places we have gone do not have power.

One thing is the same though: The children. Sure, they speak a different language (Bengali and/or Santali) and hardly any of them speak English. They all speak the language of football (non-american), Cricket (I still don’t get it) or tag. They’re also as cute as it gets and quite affectionate once they warm up to you.

I think Meredith is trying to find ways to smuggle a couple back with her.

PS. Thank You. Come Again.

Posted by Jeremy Brookins at 5:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Here I sit on my third plane ride in 36 hours…that’s a lot for this Florida girl who can count on one hand the number of times she has been out of the South. Last night on our ride to the airport it was surreal looking out the window at Delhi at night. The extent of my overseas travel experience has been what I can see from my couch watching The Amazing Race on TV. It does not feel real. I am excited that we will be in Calcutta in less than two hours. That will be the start of our official India experience. I realize how American I am. I am not sure how I will deal with the lack of sleep and lack of hot water. I am glad to be going through this; I need these challenges in my life. To be taken out of my comfort zone is a good thing for me. I like my routine and doing things my way.
I am most excited about being with the kids. I think it will be lots of fun.
I miss my baby. I hope being around all the kids doesn’t make me cry all the time. They will think this American is nutso.  Enough said.

Posted by Brooke Townsend at 7:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

We are in a cramped taxi traveling down the smog filled streets of India it was like Indiana Jones but less Hollywood, it was real. While oncoming traffic is racing at us at every corner weaving in and out of traffic, the rule is if your vehicle is bigger get out of the way! This is just a little taste of Calcutta.

I have never been to a third world country before or what I envisioned it might be like wasn’t even close to reality, A photograph from my fancy Kodak digital camera or adjective after adjective could not describe this experience. Their were stray dogs roaming aimlessly with no food, some that were missing limbs. The streets were overpopulated with people and traffic, vendors with pictures of Hindu and Muslim idols and statues littered the streets and shops, Families outside were washing their clothes and their baby and getting water from a polluted pond with garbage surrounding every step, while a cow with sunken in ribs is drinking out of the same body of water. This was my first real glance of India; I thought to myself surely god can’t be here in this chaos.

At that moment the taxi stopped and here we were standing in this reality, as the taxi sped off and my heart raced with fear and confusion, then suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw the orphanage and the darkness became light, The orphans were peeking around the corner with curious glances, We made our way into the orphanage, These children were here because their parent or parents were prisoners.

We sat down and the children greeted us by putting flowers around our necks, They introduced themselves and sang songs about Jesus loudly and proudly their song of his love echoed this small building while passer by’s stopped by the window of the orphanage to get a quick glance of us, I broke down, holding in my tears as hard as I could, these children had Jesus he was here in India and their prayers were answered,7 people from across the world are here in Calcutta to bring gods love to theses children this is surely a blessing.

Posted by Max Gruber at 7:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)

After spending the day in Calcutta we caught the train north to Malda. From there it’s a two hour jeep ride to Gangarampur. Everyone seems a little tired as the travel is catching up with them but the train ride was good: quiet, air conditioned, and about 8 hours total. We all at least got to catch up on some of our lost sleep. I was laughing to myself yesterday because team members were so tired they just couldn’t stay awake. We were on noising, bumpy streets in a taxi and someone had dozed off. We were in the restaurant eating lunch and I was dozing off. It was comical because here we are surrounded by this “other world” that is India, and were all taking nap. But yesterday was an amazing day for everyone. Calcutta is India at it’s finest. The organized chaos of its streets, the pollution mixed with the gross over-population, the rampart poverty. One of the team members commented on the dichotomy between the advertisements with very American, very clean, very happy and rich looking Indians, with the bulk of Indian society. It’s a good observation. India has never made much sense to me. It’s like the country wants to improve but just can’t get ahead of its own problems. Sometimes it makes you feel hopeless, but then you get to the orphanage, see the kids and it doesn’t matter that India doesn’t make sense or you feel hopeless. Because right in front of you is a practical, simple way to do something that makes a difference. From that point forward, coming to India is a very practical experience spent on the children. I just want to love them and play with them and do something, anything to make them smile. I just want to know that every day they are getting education in a safe environment so that someday they can “rise above” their circumstance. It still hurts my heart that I can’t do more, but “saving India” is like trying to hold back a flood anyway. You just don’t have the power to do it. But you can make a difference it at least a few children’s lives. You can do something, and that’s all that matters to me now. It blessed me to know that support we sent them last year was the only way they survived. There was a lot of persecution from the government on the administration last year and support was slim to none. When you here that you were used by God to help keep 6 orphanages going and all that that really implies, well, it just blesses you. It makes you feel significant, and I think that secretly, significance is what we are all searching for anyway. I just thank God that He’s allowed me to be a part of something like this. It’s cost sleep, and time, and comfort, and money and tons of emotional stress, but that’s a small price to pay. I’m not a martyr, nor do I want to act like one. I just want to obey Christ by helping some kids that truly have no one else to help them. Anyway, the train ride is almost over and we’ll be back to work. Thankfully the heat hasn’t been much worse than the mid-90’s with low humidity so at least it doesn’t feel that hot. If we can survive today, we will be able to really start catching up on our rest for from this point forward we stay at a hotel in Gangarampur and make day trips to other places. That means that each night we at least have the chance to get close to seven solid hours of sleep. Blessings to everyone.

PS Those of you reading who have been to India, funny story. Yesterday a team member who will remain in confidence couldn’t figure out how to use the Indian toilet, so they literally sat down on it! YUUKK! I guess they have the right to get angry at their leader who is supposed to be training them, but giving bathroom demonstrations just isn’t in my job description.

Posted by Mike Townsend at 7:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Well the “no more parachute Dr. Jones” plane ride ended up not being so bad after all. I think all the chickens are hidden under the plane flapping their little wings to keep us in the air. Either way, it sure does beat taking a 24+ hour train ride from Delhi to Calcutta. In a few minutes I will be reunited with my good friend Rev. KK Ullas again. I can’t wait to see my wife’s reaction with him after all these years of speaking about him. I wonder if he will be to her what I described him to be. I wonder if he’s aged or changed. Probably not as that man’s is all Indian: durable and stout but soft and playful. Today we spend time at a new orphanage in Calcutta that I have never been to before. I think it’s still rather small, but if I know my friend, money or no money, he will have it full of orphan children sooner than later. The team plans on doing one of our Bible skits (of course we’ll just wing it as we procrastinated on practicing) and then just playing and loving on the kids some. If time allows we will take them into town to buy clothes, shoes, school supplies and of course toys! Right now some Indian kids are waking up and don’t even realize that a few crazy Americans are coming with Christmas today! Got to go. They are serving breakfast and I need to determine if it’s edible. ;) Feeling fine and frisky and amazingly not so tired…Some one back home please hug my baby for me.

PS Breakfast wasn’t bad: fresh fruit, and something unidentifiable that tasted like spicy vegetable stew with Indian stuffing on the side.

Posted by Mike Townsend at 7:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Well its only two hours out and counting now before we arrive in Delhi. The flight has actually been quite pleasant: no layovers, uncrowded, decent food, and of course the free video games. How can it get any better than that? Well maybe if I could beat the computer more consistently in Chess…Anyway, I’m sitting here doing my best to read and study while not letting my mind wander off. But I can’t stop thinking about how amazing it is that God has a plan for our lives that He designed before we were even born into the world. Here I am, a boy from back woods Central Florida getting ready to go to India on my fourth trip! Could I ever have imagined as a little boy that anytime in my life I would be able to afford to go to India? Could I ever have imagined as an agnostic college student that I would go to India to serve in the name of Christ? Could I ever have imagined that the first trip to India I took by myself (which was so difficult) would be used by God to later help coordinate and lead future teams? The first trip I didn’t even know why I was going as I was going! I sit here on this plane knowing now with my heart that God has a purpose for each of us that is extremely significant in His eyes. Look back in hindsight at your own life and see where some of the periods full of questioning and doubt were later answered and clarified by future events. Stop and really think about it. Stop and ask God to “align” at least some of the “pieces of the puzzle” that has been and is your life. It’s mind blowing how Sovereign our Lord is! So here I go again. I should say, here we go again. After two years of confusion over the direction that God had taken me, two years of my life that still doesn’t even come close to making sense, I have peace knowing that in time it will be used by God as part of His plan for my life. I will see the hand of God in it someday. I guess I just want to share with you that while life is confusing and painful and lonely sometimes, God is there in the midst working for the greater good of you and of others. You have to see it that way. That’s hope I guess, that expectation that God is somehow working to bless us. I just want to say, thank you God for the blessings in my life. Who am I to deserve the right to call you Father? Who am I to deserve to have such a beautiful wife and baby and home? Who am I and what is my family that you would choose me to love people from the other side of the world? Like Jeremiah, we were all with God and known by God before we were born. Paul writes that “we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” and “for God’s gifts and call is irrevocable.” God has wonderful things to do with you and your life. You have purpose. Your life has purpose. And know this, regardless of what we have done or what has been done to us, we are not disqualified from the plan that God has for us. If you need proof, just look at my life and the ton of mistakes I’ve made, the utter faithlessness that I often live. And yet He still uses me today. God wants to reveal to you the plan, the path He has for you. Mostly He just wants you to trust him given your uncertainties and pains. Ask for eyes to see it. Ask for faith to believe it. Ask for hope to have the strength to chase it. Thank all of you who have continually believed in me in spite of myself. Today, may God use me to bring Him glory through the “earthen vessel” that is my life. Pray for us guys…here we go again!

Posted by Mike Townsend at 7:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)