To Break Every Chain.

The sound of our noisy, squeaking fan fills my ears as I roll over on my bed and reach for my cell phone to check the time. Early. Always. Even if it’s not, it is. I contemplate keeping my eyes shut for a few more minutes or so to try to enjoy that weird in-between- sleep –and-awake state. That usually doesn’t last long. I get up and trudge to the kitchen. Cereal and some white liquid substance South Asians call milk await me. I click the “on” switch for the water filter and wait for the light to turn green. It does, and I fill up a small pot with a broken handle. I turn the gas on, turn the knob on one of the stove tops, grab my handy dandy clicker thing, and voila, fire. I get a mug, sprinkle some Nescafe at the bottom, add a small amount of dry milk, two sugar cubes, and semi boiling water. Coffee. Yum. I don’t think it actually qualifies as coffee, but, I like it. I sit down on our couch and grab my Bible and journal. Next comes a (super quick) freezing shower. My clothing options for the day are few. I choose from one of my salwar suits. I grab my things, stuff them in my ripping backpack whose straps are currently safety pinned on (reminds me…I need to buy a new one…ha), grab my iPod, slip on my sandals, and head out the door.

It’s bright. The sun hurts my eyes, and I squint. It’s hot, but, not as hot as usual much to my glee. I walk out the gate, smile at our favorite street dog who my roommates and I have named “Diggory” (yeah, I don’t know why). He’s pretty rough looking and always looks like he just get attacked or hit by a car (which is most likely true), but, he loves to see us and wags his tail. As always, there’s a group of men across the street at the tiny chai hut. I keep my eyes to the ground as I head off down the street.

Good morning, India.

I think about how strange it is that my current surroundings have become normal to me; the people, the cows, the dogs, the trash, the noise, the buildings, the smells, the constant staring, etc. Yeah, all normal now.

The walk down my street is a long one. I stick my purple buds in my ears and click to a new favorite, “Break Every Chain” by Will Reagan and United Pursuit Band.

There is power in the Name of Jesus. There is power in the Name of Jesus. There is power in the Name of Jesus to break every chain, to break every chain, to break every chain.

                I walk passed dozens and dozens of people. I wave at one of my little friends who grins largely up at me as he yells “Byeeee!” I pass by what seems like millions of men who stop and stare as I walk, and I pass by women who do the same.

            There is power in the Name of Jesus. There is power in the Name of Jesus. There is power in the Name of Jesus to break every chain, to break every chain, to break every chain.

                Chains.

Endless amounts of chains.

Millions of people in this city.

In chains.

Invisible chains they cannot see.

 

I pray. My mind swarms. I begin to ask myself if I really do believe in the power of the Name of Jesus. Do I really believe that there is power in the Name of Jesus that can break every chain? That can break any chain? That can break every chain?

I speak the Name of Jesus over my enslaved street.

Do I really believe there is no one beyond His reach?  (Is. 59:1)

If I do…do I live like it?  Do you?

There is power in the Name of Jesus. There is power in the Name of Jesus. There is power in the Name of Jesus to break every chain, to break every chain, to break every chain.

“I believe! Help my unbelief! Mark 9:24

-Shara.

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