The Heart of a Hindu

“I’m concerned he might have some romantic interest in you,” Dad told me in the privacy of the hallway.

It was the morning following Good Friday. Dad was referring to my Indian friend who came to the service and then our house for dinner. 

I was skeptical. He was old—mid sixties at least. Dad thought he was interested because he said, “You wait and wait and wait, and then BAM. It happens.”

I thought Ashok was referring to some spiritual revelation. Now I wasn’t so sure. My dad’s theory began to look more and more probable when I got a call from him later. In a panic, I didn’t answer but waited for him to leave a message.

“I was very glad to meet your parents last night,” he reported.

Uh-oh.

“I was wondering if you would like to go to lunch tomorrow after the service. Or I could bring a cake over to your house.”

Like a wedding cake? I had a graphic mental image of Ashok showing up on my deck with a tiered cake and a goat.

What had gone wrong? How could we have missed each other? Ashok and I were coming from completely opposite angles: I wanted nothing but for him to find the true God and he wanted…me. 

Anxiety began to curdle in my stomach, morphing into a fog of fear. I cried out to God in my confusion: Why did you let this happen? How will he come to want you if he only wants me? I wouldn't reproach myself for obeying the Spirit, no matter how silly I felt. I believed without a doubt that God had orchestrated our meeting for his purpose. 

In a crowded Dunn Brothers, I had pulled my laptop toward me—thus making more room at the little table—at the exact moment he looked at me. He gestured and sat down with his Wall Street Journal. I had my earphones in, but he started talking to me anyway.

I had been practicing listening to the Spirit, which usually meant entering some unknown situation, and with that, some amount of fear. So I listened. I learned he was Hindu and promised to buy a copy of the Gita. He gave me his number and, trying to find the balance between following the Spirit and not being naïve, I gave him my email.

To me it was a chance to learn about his view of God. To him it was a courtship invitation.

Two weeks passed in which I experienced Satan’s sabotage. Sickness, scheduling obstacles, sleepless nights, close-shaves while driving. I prayed for protection and fought the onslaught of fatigue.

Two Thursdays later we finally met and talked about his Hindu beliefs. I contrasted them with mine, showing how we actually didn’t believe in the same God. I invited him to the Easter weekend services and he readily agreed. I was pleased that he wanted to learn more about the God of the Bible. I suppose he was pleased that he had more time to spend with me.

When it became clear to me that Ashok was in it for a wife, my hopes dovetailed. I didn’t want to see him again. The spiritual attack ceased immediately, but my own disappointment and fear tempted me to withdraw. I prayed for God to guide me in clarifying our friendship.

I didn’t know what to say to him when I saw him at the Easter Sunday service.

He told me he thought about bringing me flowers. He asked to come to our home again.

I had to muddle my way through an explanation that I would be more comfortable sticking to the Gita over coffee. All morning I wrestled with the desire to run away. He is your guest. You must be in this, no matter how uncomfortable. All morning I asked God, What are you doing with this? How do I go forward?

Imagine my relief when my mom reported that Ashok told her he didn’t realize how young I was (my age came up in a conversation) and certainly wouldn’t have thought of me that way if he had.

“I am looking for a wife,” he told her plainly. “I am looking for a wife like Grace.”

My heart grieved for his loneliness. I remembered spotting a longing in his eyes that first meeting. It was a longing for relationship. And I know the relationship that can fulfill that longing.

In that moment, I felt the Spirit prodding me: Are you going to retreat in fear? Are you going to withdraw your friendship for social decorum's sake? Are you going to reject his soul simply because you are a little uncomfortable? 

I had my answer.