A Legacy of Love, Sacrifice, and Honor

This blog entry is dedicated to my two surviving grandparents who have been such wonderful and consistent role models throughout my life. They have taught me so much about how to properly and practically express love. It hasn’t simply been through their words, nor has it only been by their actions, but in everything they do and say I see in them a sincere love for their family that extends to friends and even strangers. As I grow older and with each day am more tested by with the trials of life, I am amazed by their ability to see through it and then rise above it all without questioning, complaining or showing any bitterness. I observe them with amazement when I see their wisdom. There is no question in their minds when it comes to trust. They know what loyalty means because they live it. They know what commitment is because they have experienced it. They know what compassion looks like because they’ve seen it in action. They know what it means to love because they have forged through the many challenges and temptations of life while continuing to be faithful to their spouses and more importantly, to God. They’ve seen generations come and they’ve said goodbye to many, many loved ones. They’ve lived through a World War and have known what it means to really make sacrifices. My grandfather served in the South Pacific during WWII and my grandmother’s husband, my granddad was serving in India when my mother was born. Their lives are filled with purpose, determination, hope and resilience. They’ve seen the worst of humankind in Hitler, Stalin, and the 9-11 terrorists. They’ve also celebrated the pinnacles of man’s achievements, like walking on the moon and the triumph of freedom over oppression with the Berlin wall tumbling down. Of course, my grandparents have experienced some of the greatest joys in life, having been blessed with children and grandchildren. Yet, they have also faced the deepest sorrows that come with living in a world tainted by sin. They have lost parents, siblings, friends and worst of all, spouses. Both of my grandparents were blessed with 60+ years of marriage and then had to go through the worst of all tragedies, the loss of a spouse. It is so hard to even fathom what that must be like. How does one go on after God calls their best-friend and companion of 60 years home? I know that it is only by the grace of God that anyone can live through such a difficult experience and continue faithfully serving the Lord. I wonder why my generation seems so detached and so far removed from the “Greatest Generation” of my grandparents. How is it that the “Baby Boomer” generation of my parents became so disillusioned and narcissistic? I simply cannot comprehend how in one generation, words like sacrifice, honor, respect, and love seem to have been forgotten. It is almost shocking to think of the incredible legacy left by our grandparents when compared to that of our generation and our parents. We have traded a rich heritage of loyalty and honor for self-centered materialism. It seems the “Baby Boomers” will be remembered for their rebellious 60’s-era revolution that has spawned a culture of sexual idolatry and a fascination with drugs. Oh and whatever happened to the American work ethic that was driven by personal responsibility and a desire to better our communities? It seems that as out checkbooks were replaced with credit cards, we’ve also found ways to live beyond our means. Defaulting on loans and paying sky-high interest rates on credit cards are the norm today. I wonder if that will be another legacy of the “Baby Boomers”? They are after all, the ones who’ve helped push our national debt into double digits. When will this unsustainable cycle end? It’s a sad irony to think that all the sacrifices our grandparents made for their children and grandchildren have been replaced with the impossible financial burdens of our parents. After all, it’s our kids and grand-kids that will be paying off the huge government loans and endless government programs created by our parents. How wonderful it would be if our generation had the courage and moral fortitude to see our nation return to the principles that once made it great. I may be overly optimistic to think that true change is a real possibility, but I’m frankly sick and tired of all the political rhetoric and the scandals and the self-serving that runs rampant throughout our country, from corporations to the government. The lack of personal accountability cannot continue. I long to see us return the honor our grandparents brought to this great nation, but the question is which path we will take. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,” and we must take the road less traveled…

The reason I wrote this blog is because I see our nations at a very important crossroads. We will either continue a trend towards socialism and the continual erosion of the value of human life, or we will see this as an opportunity to change the course of history and undo the bad decisions that will no doubt destroy this great country. As I sat between my grandmother and my grandfather, I could not help, but think that we must honor the sacrifices their generation has made for us. While my grandfather was in Colorado for my sister’s wedding, we orchestrated his visit with my grandmother, at his prompting. In his words, he wanted to “pay his respects” to my grandmother. Though they have only seen each other on a couple occasions, I could see that they were kindred spirits because of all that they have been through in life. The virtues of love, compassion, gratitude, and humility poured forth abundantly during that brief rendezvous. It was as if God had brought these two people together to show those of us present what we are called to be and to do in life. I do not know the specifics about God’s plan for my life, but I see more clearly now how I am called to actively live out my faith. The example of my grandparents reflects Christ’s example, by which we are compelled to live courageously and purposefully for the glory of God. If that is where we place our hope, we will not be disappointed or disillusioned even as we live trying times and face difficult circumstances that require hard choices. May we follow in the footsteps of our grandparents and learn to live life more fully, in community with one another and in covenant with God, just as He has intended.

I survived… and made it to the wedding!

I was able to catch my flight out of Chennai and made it back to Hyderabad safely, although my counterpart at this point was on his way to Rajasthan for a much-deserved and much-needed vacation. I was again on my own, but at least his driver again proved his reliability. I arrived in Hyderabad around 5pm and within 12 hours would be flying back to the U.S. With an upset stomach, the thought of packing my bags and leaving for the airport at 1am was less than thrilling. I did manage to get some sleep after I got home and then rallied to make it to the airport in the middle of a torrential downpour. Have I mentioned that it rains here like nowhere I’ve ever been? It’s absolutely amazing to see how much rain can fall from the sky. I wonder if God is taking a shower over India or something because it’s like He’s turned on the shower full blast and we’re on the receiving end! By the grace of God, we did make it back to the airport and I did make my flight out. I did manage to make it through the rest of my journey, albeit a bit uncomfortable. I was very exhausted upon my arrival in Denver and my patience was running thin when I found that none of my family was answering their phones! I expected the worst, as they had no way to communicate with me and I apparently had no way to get through to them. Again, by the grace of God, my sister found me much to my relief.

The ensuing days went by faster than I could have imagined as it was a whirlwind of preparation for the wedding. It was wonderful to spend so much quality time with family. I was able to show my grandfather, a couple aunts and an uncle around my old stomping grounds (the Air Force Academy). While I was disappointed that the cadets didn’t march to lunch, I did enjoy the A-10 flyover. It was a beautiful day with a lovely blue, Colorado sky and puffy white clouds to boot. My bald head didn’t particularly appreciate the sun, but that’s nothing new… After the AFA tour, we took a little drive through the Garden of the Gods and Manitou Springs. Oh, how I miss that fresh Colorado air and that beautiful part of God’s creation! It was also such a blessing to be with family. My grandfather made the long trek out from Illinois with the help of my aunt and uncle and that made everything even more special. In addition to all the family time and wedding prep, we managed to do a lot of work at my parent’s house. They needed to get rid of some furniture and we were pretty successful in that endeavor! Moving on to the highlight of the trip, my sister’s wedding…

First, I must say that it is with much joy that I welcome a brother to the Urish family. My sister has married someone whom I greatly respect and admire. He is a man of God who is bright, yet humble. He is thoughtful and tender-hearted, but also confident and courageous. I am thankful that God has brought him into my sister’s life and into our lives as well! He comes from a large family, so it was fun to meet all of the clan.

The setting for the wedding was quite impressive as it was held at Glen Eyrie, which is a castle built at the base of the mountains, nestled in a little valley near the Garden of the Gods. The rehearsal went smoothly with my dad officiating, though I had my doubts about how he would hold up for the real thing! The rehearsal dinner was great too as I got to meet a number of the new in-laws. While the time with my sister was pretty limited, she was constantly glowing especially on the day of the wedding. She looked absolutely stunning, gorgeous, and beautiful. I have not seen the pictures, but I’m confident that they turned out lovely as the weather was cooperative and the location was perfect. The ceremony went quite well and surprisingly enough my dad kept it together. At one point, he even made a gesture to wipe away a tear of joy from my sister’s face. It was a moment I will not forget, just as I will not forget seeing the two of them together for the father-daughter dance. I will interject for a moment to say that the food at the reception was really great and it was fun to catch up with some old friends. God is sooo good. As for the rest of my time in Colorado, I did get to see my grandmother who is such a wonderfully encouraging and loving woman. She has expressed her love, care and compassion in so many ways over the years. I am so fortunate to have been influenced by someone who is so special. I’m thankful that God has blessed me with such a wonderful family and now I look forward to the adventure ahead as we have added one more to the team!

Doubting Thomas… doubting Luke?

I arrived in Chennai and was quickly whisked away by a hotel shuttle and then promptly shown to my posh room. With the events that had transpired in Hyderabad on the way to the airport still firmly fixed in my memory, I was quite content to relax in my hotel room and retire early. The next morning my counterpart arrived, having survived the previous day’s hassles. We had breakfast and then made our way to the San Thome Cathedral that commemorates the work of St. Thomas the Apostle who purportedly came to India to spread the “Good News”. After mass at the cathedral I visited the adjacent building where St. Thomas is supposedly buried. Through all of this I could not help but notice how similar Catholic rituals appeared to resemble Hindu rituals. There were even Hindus who attended the mass, but that should be no surprise to anyone who knows much about Hinduism. It is a religion of syncretism, by which I mean to say that it absorbs other religious practices and even other gods. There seems to be no dichotomy between worshiping Ganesh and worshiping Jesus. I personally do not see how praying to relics or other similar Catholic practices helps differentiate between Hindu gods and the one true God of grace, justice, and love. I’m simply offering my opinion even as I recognize that I do not have the experience to make an unqualified assessment of Catholic practices in India. I will say that it seems possible that maybe Hinduism has had some influence on the Catholic church here. Okay, my purpose in with this entry is not to bash Catholics, so please forgive me if that appears to have been the case. To end on a positive note, I will say that it is tremendously encouraging to see what an impact St Thomas had in this part of the world. God truly used this man to bring His Gospel to the people of India. There are a good number of Christians in southern India, due largely to the work of that man we know as “Doubting Thomas”.

That Sunday was quite rainy, so we decided to check out the movie listings at a nearby mall. Since nothing of interest was showing, we made our way to Sparky’s which is a restaurant that was opened by an American who has been living in Indian for something like 15 years. It was a welcome taste of home, even as the cheeseburger did have a bit of an Indian flavor to it. I can’t quite explain it, but suffice it to say, the beef tastes kinda different. My buddy has been in India so long that he didn’t even notice! That could be me in another year or two! After Sparky’s, we went back to the hotel and then rallied later in the evening to go to a Korean restaurant that had been recommended by a friend. It ended up being a really fantastic experience although it was difficult to find because it was hidden on the second floor of an office building and lacked a noticeable sign. While, the main course was amazing, I was also impressed with the 7 different complimentary appetizers that were served. I thought it was like those scams in Europe where you get served bread, but then charged extra if you eat it! Fortunately, that was not the case!

Moving on to Monday, we spent most of the day at the consulate meeting people and making necessary arrangements. I was thankful to find that nearly everyone we met was very welcoming and happy to help me in any way they could. We found a quiet, peaceful lunch spot that was also recommended by a friend. It was hidden from the street, but when we found it, it was like we had uncovered a lost world! The building was very colonial, but seemed out of place in India. I felt like I was somewhere in a South American jungle or a more tropical former British colony, but alas, we had not left India. The meal was delightful, the price was right, and the atmosphere was fantastic. If you ever make it to Chennai, be sure to look up Amethyst.

After lunch we made our way back to the hotel, which happened to be conveniently located near St. Thomas’ Mount. This is the place where St. Thomas is rumored to have been martyred. It ended up being a lengthy walk from the hotel, but it was worthwhile. A small chapel crowns the mount which provides a scenic view of the city and the 10 rupee camera charge was fairly insignificant. I was a bit disappointed that we were unable to find a marker showing the spot where St. Thomas was murdered, but maybe no one knows exactly where it took place. At any rate, as dusk set in, we decided to head back to the hotel. We got back and rather than venturing out again settled for dinner at the seafood restaurant. This turned out to be a decision I would greatly regret.

The meal was not bad, but quite overpriced by any standards and what it gave me the next morning surely was not worth the expense! I woke up the next morning with a bad case of the “runs” and an upset stomach. It was so bad that I was not able to make it to the base to see my future house as we had planned to do. Instead, the on-call doctor had to pay me a visit and prescribe some medication for an upset stomach and disagreeable intestines. This was done only after I had been convinced that a shot was necessary to stop the “running” of my bowels. It worked like a charm, but shortly after the shot I found that stopping up one hole, might only lead to the consternation of the other hole and it did. I threw up and as is nearly always the case when I do, I thought I would rather have just died… As I have found in the past, usually things get better after the first round of blowing chunks. Sadly, I continued to have an upset stomach that simply would not go away and caused me to doubt whether I would make my afternoon flight back to Hyderabad or my subsequent flights back to the U.S. for my sister’s wedding! Maybe that doubting Thomas character rubbed off on me a bit?

A long hiatus… did anyone miss me?

Well, it has been quite some time since my last blog entry and I know many people have been eagerly awaiting my next post with bated breath. LOL! I will say that a lot has happened in the last few weeks, so I have a lot of writing to catch up on. The highlights will include a good bit of traveling as I left off in Hyderabad, but since that time have been to and from Chennai, to and from the U.S. and back to Chennai again. It has been a hectic few weeks, but I have been blessed by getting to see my family and celebrating my sister’s wedding. I will begin where I left off by sharing some of the highlights (both good and bad) of my first trip to Chennai.

Apart from the beginning and ending, this part of the adventure was rather intriguing. The trip to Chennai quite nearly was not to be. My predecessor who has been so very instrumental in helping me make the difficult adjustment to life in India made the travel arrangements for us to fly to Chennai. Unfortunately, we were not able to book the same flight, but the flights were spaced rather closely together so we did not have to arrange separate transportation to the airport. That’s nice because the Hyderabad airport, which is quite modern also happens to be quite a distance from the city. It reminds me a lot of the commute to the Denver airport. The drive is more interesting as it takes you through the heart of the city and then a beautiful area of picturesque rocky hills dotted with mostly residential homes and apartment complexes. We had not made it much into the heart of the city before we ran into what I was afraid could have been quite disastrous. As we were approaching a T intersection, out driver chose to pass the line of traffic on the left, which in India is not an unconventional means of circumventing traffic. Also, in case you did not know, the Indians drive on the left side of the road (one of the consequences of having been a British colony). So as we approached the intersection, a lone rickshaw was speeding up the road leading to the “T” and clearly intending to merge into the flow of traffic with us. At this point, our driver thought we could beat him, but to do so had to pass on the left side of a truck that blocked our view. Just as we got past the truck, we were able to see why he was stopped, but by then it was too late. A swarm of turning motorcycles had managed to work their way into the intersection and the floodgates opened right as we arrived on the scene. They had not seen us any better than we had seen them and in an instant, we hit a motorcyclist. It was not as bad as you may think because we were not going very fast. It was more like we bumped into him and tipped over the motorcycle, but nonetheless, the ensuing scene was quite eye-opening. My driver got out to help up the guy up, but no sooner had he done so and the guy suddenly wanted to engage in fisticuffs with my driver. He got a few free swings in and then it was over, but before we knew what had happened the motorcyclist got in the car with us and had us drive him to the hospital. As he got out of the car limping, I noticed that he was bleeding from a large gash on his left foot. Of course it couldn’t have helped that he was wearing flip-flops not to mention the fact that he wasn’t wearing a helmet! At any rate, the subsequent hours were rather tense as a friend of the motorcyclist asked for a 30,000 rupee payment (approximately $650 U.S.) to which my buddy said “no, thanks”. We agreed to give insurance and contact information, but those requests were met with disdain. Fortunately, we had a contact at the consulate who was able to send an Indian national who could try to diffuse the situation. At this point my buddy had already missed his flight and I was about to miss mine, so I caught a taxi to the airport and let them sort the mess out. When it was all said and done, the settlement ended up being 15,000 rupees, which was still a lot considering the guys hospital bill was about 5,000 rupees. The other option was going to court, but that would mean our driver would be put in jail until the trial. His family who showed up at the police station for the negotiations (and are largely supported by his wages) were okay with that, but that would not have been a good solution so the 15K rupee fee was paid in full. Now it seems appropriate to save the rest of my Chennai story for another post…

Day 11 - $how me the money

Thursday’s highlight was another trip to the base that was wildly successful. It certainly could not have been more unexpected, but I managed to make arrangements with the finance office to ensure my training in Chennai would be paid for. Shockingly, not only was everything set up for me, but I was also paid in cash on the spot! And this was all in the course of an hour or so! Wow, things are starting to look up!

As if that good news wasn’t enough, I also forgot to mention that I found out that Winston Churchill lived at a place called the retreat, just a 5 minute walk from my house. Apparently he served here during World War 1, although I have not researched it yet. The house has a large picture of him on the front porch and highlights the fact that he stayed there, so it must be true, right?