Golconda Fort: The Walls That Broke Mine Down

Last week was absolutely wild. And so, so good.

On Friday afternoon, several of my teammates and I took Ubers all the way across Hyderabad to explore Golconda Fort (peep my last photo upload for visuals).  It was our off day and it was Jordy’s birthday.  There was a lot of sun and a lot of adventure to be had.  Honestly, ministry was not the first thought in my mind.

During our half-hour drive across town, the change in neighborhood struck me.  Where we live, it is fairly affluent and tranquil.  There are even a few Christians.  Where we drove, people and cows and goats and chickens and tuk-tuks flooded every gap (I mean that literally) on the roads.  Although a bit more colorful and diverse, it wasn’t unlike other areas of Hyderabad that I’d spent time in.  But something in my viewpoint was different from before.

In India, it is obvious what beliefs people subscribe to because everything about their lives is shaped around it.  What they wear, what they eat, what they hang above their door – it is all an expression of their faith. And all of a sudden, in that actually-somewhat-air-conditioned Uber, I was very aware that I was surrounded by Hindus and Muslims of every socioeconomic status, caste and occupation.

After surviving some classic foreigner hustling during our ticket purchases, we spent a few hours at the fort, which is unbelievably massive and ancient.  The brevity of America’s existence in history became more real to me than I knew was possible.  So did the magnitude and depth and heritage of India’s spiritual slavery.

Golconda Fort might have been the weightiest spiritual encounter of my life.  As I walked among the ruins, imagining the billions of feet that climbed those same steps before me, I was wrecked by the reality of the generational sin here.  I stood at the top of that fort and saw an unending skyline in every direction of homes wrapped in darkness.  The smog above the city was far too fitting.

What was craziest about that afternoon was how quickly I went from a state of carefree exploration to a state of utter awareness. It happened in a single, regular moment.

Fun fact: being some of the only white people in an un-touristy city of 7.1 million makes us an attraction everywhere we go – even places with much more exciting sights. So, we spent at least 51% of our time at Golconda posing for selfies at the request of natives.

I remember this one group of guys approached us for a photo (again, very normal, very everyday, very NOT special).  One second I was teaching them the “hang loose” gesture, cracking up through our minor language/accent challenges. The next, I was thinking, “They’re on their way to Hell.” 

It was absolutely devastating, y’all.  All of a sudden, the incense burning in the fort temples and the prayers blasting over the city loudspeakers were like physical weights on my body. But the tears couldn’t escape my body.  Selfies are ministry opps here, and the camera needed my smile in that moment.

Every step I took after that became a prayer.  ‘Let them know that you are the only God, the one true God.  Show them they don’t have to strive like this anymore!’ I repeated it over and over. I needed every person in that fort, in this city, in this nation to KNOW that the gods they’re praying to can never save them.

On Friday, February 16, 2018, I fell in love with India at Golconda Fort.

I don’t know exactly what God is going to do with my breakthrough during the rest of my time here.  I do know that my days left in India are very few, and the ones since Golconda have meant more to me than all the days before combined.  I also know God is growing my love for lost people in deeper ways than before – both in Southeast Asia and in the U.S. All I want to do is get on board with His agenda every day I am in each place from here on out. 

Side note/quick ministry update: this week, my team and I are repainting some of the foster homes here and working on adoption photos for the children with forever families on the way! Next week, we are leaving Hyderabad to visit Ongole, India, where the other half of this ministry’s foster homes are located.  We will spend an off day and a ministry day there, so look out for beautiful photos! Not to get you too excited or anything, but I’ll get to meet the girl I sponsor there, and it’s going to be DOPE.

Okay, that’s all. Peace and love!