Daylight Dawns: 2 Months In Delhi

It’s 6am in our city of 25 million.

I sit in the rocker that I used to rock baby girl to sleep in from 8-weeks-old in our former mountain home.  Now she’s full-on-3 (going on 14) with sweaty pink cheeks covered in dust coming out of preschool each day.

I sit in our office facing the park, and I listen to daylight rising on Delhi.  The first bird chirping, the first horn’s honk, the sounds of pooja(prayers) down the lane. The two night guards were sitting at their post on the corner at 5am, lounging in lawn chairs and trying to stay awake—one with bare feet slung over the side of his armchair and head leaning back and his mouth hanging open. Now they’ve woken up and are chattering away, waiting for their replacement to come at 7.

I went to bed at 8pm with a terrible cold, after consuming all of the customary natural remedies one must take for a cold.  Eat a clove of garlic each day. Brew tea of fresh ginger and cloves and honey. Brew tulsi (basil). Eat fresh fruit. Eat no lemon or foods that would “dry out” the throat. And absolutely zero milk, yoghurt, ice cream, and especially no cold water. Only warm water. After having been reminded of this last one by my neighbor, my maid, and friends, I faithfully abstained from all ice cubes and refrigerated water. And it maybe helping.

And I do feel slightly better today; better enough that I woke up refreshed at 5am and decided to steal some time in prayer.

Today we have been in India for 2 months. To say we are settled is an overstatement.  We are functional.  The kids are now in school and have begun a routine of leaving the house with their dad at 7:30am (ish). I ride to pick them up at 2:30pm—it takes 45 minutes there and 45 minutes back. The time to clean, organize, work, and have meetings between 7:30 and 2:30 feels like half an hour every day. Each day seems to careen from one moment to the next in a nonstop flow of, “Hurry, we’re almost late!”.

I tell myself this is normal when transitioning to a new routine.  Right?

Yet every day it feels slightly less hectic. And every day there is peace. Every day has these moments (and sometimes hours) of, “Man I like it here”, or, “God is right here with us”. In fact, the 3 years of roughing it in the mountains with babies seems to have set the bar really low, because life feels so much more doable now.  Going to the grocery store (there are real grocery stores with carts!) is easier with a 5-year-old, if he gets to pick out his lolli-pop at the end. Protecting my 3-year-old from shy city street dogs is easier than protecting my 1-year-old from monkeys.  It’s all in perspective, and thankfully, perspective is one thing I now have.

And I truly am grateful for that mountain season that offers me perspective.

The other thing gained in that mountain season was real, wonderful friends. In 2 months we have had visits from 3 of our guy friends, and two families we love, taking time to us in our new home. Each visit reminds me that these friendships came in time and we have one day have more friends like these here in the city.

In summary, life on the tail-end of transition may still feel hairy, but there is so much peace in being right where we are destined to be, and there is so much strength in building off of a former season that makes this one much, much easier.

Thanks to friends and readers who have thought of us, sending prayers and notes of encouragement.  I am so grateful for the community God has given us across the globe. I pray that you would each encounter your Creator God, finding real and palpable peace in your journey today.