Bapatla diary 9

As I said, you never know what to expect...

When we first arrived in Bapatla, one of our hosts, Johnson - pastor, evangelist, and engagement party planner extraordinaire - began making plans for a pastor's conference. In his typical enthusiastic style, he described his idea to Coty...

"They will come for two days. Two sessions in the morning with a break for tea in between, lunch, and then two sessions in the afternoon. If I'd known you were coming more in advance, we could have invited 400 - but we'll try for 50!"

Wow!

Now, Coty didn't come to India with plans to speak for two days at a conference for local pastors. He came to deliver the ring and enjoy time with Jonathan, Kandyce, and me, love on children at the orphanage, and have a little break of sorts from pastoral ministry here at home.

But that wasn't God's plan.

I get the feeling that if it word gets out that you're a visiting American pastor, you should expect to speak - numerous times. Some people have a cynical view of this phenomenon and there surely may be a bit of undue deference to the American pastor.

But, I think this eagerness for teaching from visiting foreign pastors has much more to do with the scarcity of resources available to mainly untrained, isolated pastors and their eagerness for teaching. They are hungry to learn and someone like Coty, who's had a bit more teaching, has something to share. If you have knowledge, you should share it.

My husband loves working with such people, these hard workers, who live and minister in difficult situations but who are eager for teaching to help them understand and apply Scripture and serve their often tiny village congregations.

So, when Johnson began planning, Coty began preparing a series of talks for pastors from 1 and 2 Timothy.

We had arrived in Bapatla on Friday morning. The discussion above about planning a conference happened that day. Then you know about the events of the weekend - the visit to the leper colony, the party on Sunday night, the trip to the beach on Monday. With no definite word from Johnson about just when the conference would take place, Coty (and we all) assumed it would be later in the week, probably Thursday and Friday. So, on Tuesday morning, as we sat on the porch and sipped coffee before breakfast, we were all greatly surprised when Johnson strode up and said, "The pastors will be arriving at 9:00!" You really never know what to expect.

My husband, to his great credit, is never one to panic. He ate a quick breakfast, disappeared to our room and spent the next hour hastily finishing preparations for the day.

Meanwhile, another tent was being erected, musicians were warming up, food was being prepared, and pastors from villages all around Bapatla began arriving.

And then for two days, Coty taught, through a translator, to a group of about 70 pastors and others who endured the heat, the uncomfortable plastic chairs, and at one point a billowing wind that blew out a couple of tent stakes and whipped up the sand. I cannot imagine a group of 70 American pastors, given such short notice assembling for such a gathering under such circumstances with such eagerness and attention. We, I fear, are far too spoiled.

But gather and sing and listen and take copious notes, they did.

After it was all over, my husband was very tired, but thankful for such a privilege.

We pray that the pastors were encouraged to love God with all their hearts, souls, minds, and strength; to labor for His kingdom with joy; to press on in serving their people with careful teaching from the Bible and lives that reflect Jesus; to endure hardship and trials for the sake of His name. Would you pray with us.