Location: My becoming-colder bedroom at our base in Sighisoara, Romania, about 9:30pm on the 13th of October, 2009
This morning, I woke to a beautiful rain shower. The brisk autumn air was not enough to keep me from praying outside on our terrace. There I was in a fleece sweatshirt, under cover from the rain but could watch the town wake up. Now, however, it is winter! The pouring rain is being driven by frigid winds that are quick to remind us that our heating system is not yet up and running. But first, yesterday...
Yesterday was wonderful!
Many of you, including my former boss, know that I love to clean garages. (I think I inherited that from my father!) Yesterday morning, my first task was to clean our garage--it looks great now! In fact, I made sure we showed the leaders of our team because I was afraid they would think we had been robbed! So the morning was off to a great start by the time we grabbed a quick lunch, and then it was off to one of the villages for our weekly visitation time (relationship-building time that prepares the community for our program the following day).
This time, however, I was a little uncertain because we (two) interns were visiting alone for the first time. Our leader was unable to come with us. Nevertheless, my fears were unfounded--we had a super visit! Upon arrival, we split up, my Romanian counterpart going straight to the football field while I went to visit houses and invite kids to play. I went almost to the very end of the village, the furthest we had ever gone. In fact, back there the road turns into a creekbed with water in it. Two boys went with me, and we had fun laughing and singing while I tried my best to communicate with my broken Romanian.
One of the highlights was on the way back to find I. and the soccer game. We passed a fence in which was gathered a large family of adults, nearly a dozen. They invited me in to help them (I think they were impressed by my hat!). I could not tell what they were doing, and I was uncomfortable about entering and being fenced in as a foreign minority. However, I asked the boys with me and they promised to accompany me, so in we went!
I found them drawing water from a well by a bucket and rope, but despite their original invitation, they would not let me help. Instead they posed questions to me, but my Romanian was not very successful under fire. We had a pleasant exchange of not understanding each other, but we did agree at one point that I was a Christian, and that we would be having a program for children the next day. As I shook hands upon departure from the yard, the almost-elderly lady took my hand and set it on her head. Puzzled by this bizarre custom, I have nonetheless trained myself to (almost) never react to shock, and I calmly waited until I understood that she had a headache and was asking me to pray. Without a moment's hesitation (I learned long ago that too much happens when you hesitate!), I removed my hat and prayed for that woman and her headache. All fell silent around me, as if they could understand my English prayer. As I walked out moments later, we now shared a relationship that is difficult to discribe.
God is doing mighty work among these villages, and often in conjunction with prayer. But let me not stray.
I returned, and we played some intense football. Both I. and I managed to keep our balance when we accidentally slid through the tell-tale pile of cow manure smack-dab in the center of the football field, but my shoe was boasting the green goo for a whole day! But what a great day that was! Once again, I was thankful to my King for leading me to Sighisoara.
Which brings us today. I may have told you about the many answered prayers I have been thanking the LORD for; another thing has been rain-related miracles. Several times the weather has been supernaturally timed to rain around our work. Though I certainly thank God for that, I am leary of praying about the weather except in very extreme circumstances, for I heartily believe in God's power and the power He gives us in prayer. Thus, I am concerned that I do not understand the repercussions when I pray for whether based on my plans, not considering how other lives might be affected. Nonetheless, others on my team do not have that reticence and even today was a good example of the rain continuing all day except for the time that our feet were on the ground in the village.
Today's visit seemed less remarkable--we did an abreviated visit because the roads were too muddy for the truck, but I did see and talk with the man from inside the fence yesterday. I also saw several of the kids, including the one on whose bike I hitchhiked last week (I may have forgotten to tell that story--ask me about it!). But one of the attractions was the fact that I was wearing shorts and shoes without socks in the see-your-breath-cool weather. Why? Because I was planning to get wet and was unwilling to get my remaining pair of pants and my last pair of socks wet.
Besides, I was already wet. A forgotten-cake emergency had forced me to run through near flash-floods in the streets to town, drenching my shoes and socks, and the part of my shorts that were not protected by my poncho. Most folks (including us!) do not have clothes' dryers in Romania, so I was not going to get a second pair of clothes wet. But the good news is that running through raging currents in the dirt roads cleans cow manure off your shoes, replacing it with mud!
So as winter advances and I curl up under my covers tonight, you do not have to pray for the weather. In fact, I like all kinds of weather, even when it is blustery! I had time to take a hot shower after our return and before I taught my English class. But please do pray for our heating and laundry situation. We have been having trouble getting the heating system fixed, and soon we will really need it. In addition, the washing machine has been broken for a week, and the five of us who live here are running out of clean clothes. Maybe these seem like tiny problems to you who are in cultures where it is easy to remedy such challenges, and in the grand scheme of eternity with God, you are right. However, in the daily grind, added to a leak in the ceiling and a door handle that keeps falling off and bathrooms that only have exterior access, these things add up and can become frustrating.
Fortunately, I am a patient man loved by an amazing God. I am happy to be here, even without certain amenities. I am excited about the work He is doing in this area, and in me. For example, some of our team was involved in a very large, city-wide meeting today to assess the needs of the children in the area. Or, this morning, I heard from my friend in another part of Romania, and I smiled to learn more of God's work among persons with disabilities and among persons called to full-time missions work.
I do not want you to leave this blog remembering my shivers or my soaked shoes. I do not want you to be worrying about my laundry. Nor even do I hope that you keep smiling about my cow-manure acrobatics.
Instead, I want you to remember that God hears our prayers and is answering them. I want you to note that He is working mightily among the downtrodden and outcasts in Romania. I want you to realize that He is providing for my every need, and protecting me from every danger. And I want you to know that the same God Who is Almighty here is also Almighty wherever you are right now. He is hearing your prayers, He is working in your community, and He is providing and protecting. Let us not look toward winter's onslaught or the challenges that threaten to frustrate us. Instead, let us set our minds on things above and praise the One to Whom praise is due!
This blog is your opportunity to travel with me wherever I am in the world, during both the mundane and exciting moments of life that I humbly recognize as holy. As I bare my life to you, may your reading take you beyond my words to the Word, beyond my life to the Life, beyond the chaos to the Truth, and beyond teachings to the Teacher--the Rabboni. I promise it will be an adventure, and by the end, may you, too, truly know the Way!
A Rose From Home
My Story (As prepared for my church congregation this spring--2009)
I have a story to tell you. I am the main character, but the story is not about me. I have traveled several parts of the world, but my adventure has been closer to home. I am twenty-six years old. My story begins like many of yours…
I grew up going to church. I had been born into a family who labeled themselves “Christian,” in a country that labels itself “Christian.” Every Sunday found me attending a worship service and Sunday school in a mainline denomination church. I served as an acolyte, attended Vacation Bible School, helped my dad count and record the offering money, sang in the youth choir, was a leader in the youth group, and occasionally served as liturgist. Baptized as an infant, I was confirmed at the age of twelve, thus becoming an “official” member of the church. Then, hurt by the church, my family left to find another.
Have you ever been hurt by the Church?
After months of searching, we settled into a very large independent church. Things were different there, and I was quickly welcomed and at home among new friends that truly had a passion for Jesus. The Word of God was taught boldly from the pulpit, and I was introduced to a missions-aware lifestyle. So it was with regret that I said goodbye only a couple of years later to move with my family to another church. I purposely remained aloof, not wanting to make new friendships before I left for college a year later. Besides, I was loosing my faith—or so I thought—and I didn’t want anyone to know. I was asking scary questions like “Is there really a God?” and, if so, “Is He the Christian God?” and “Would I be Christian if I had been born in another part of the world?”
Have you ever asked yourself unsettling questions about what you believe?
So I headed into college under a cloud of confusion that only worsened for the next two years. Though I didn’t know what I believed anymore, I continued to go to church every Sunday, and to help lead worship in chapel. Most importantly, even during this questioning, I continued my morning habit of daily study of the Bible. I had begun at age twelve, reading at first a chapter per day, then ten minutes each morning, then an half-hour, and so on. So, only by the grace of the very God I doubted, I remained anchored in His Word and in His community, though I felt like a fake most of the time. Since then I have learned that “fake” is the worst insult the world can give us; that is why the label of “hypocrite” is so offensive.
Have you ever felt like a fake?
Six weeks with missionaries in South Africa followed by a year in France began to teach me what life with God is all about. I began rebuilding my faith, this time it belonged to me, in contrast to me borrowing the faith of my parents, church, or anyone else. In my parent’s basement in 2003, on either Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve, I invited Jesus to live in me; perhaps I had done so before, but I didn’t recall—but since 2003, I have never forgotten that moment. Unfortunately, nothing changed. I continued to do my best to act like a Christian, as I had done for so long.
Have you ever found yourself “doing your best” to be a good person, or to act like a Christian?
Though I did not realize it at the time, I was quenching the Spirit, even though I had welcomed Him into my life. During the next few years, the LORD continued to nurture me, and slowly things began to change. Several tough months in Idaho birthed my prayer-life. I spent three years being humbled in a job that was my informal seminary training. In 2007, a short stint in Mexico helped me to see things as they were, and not long afterward, I was baptized by immersion. No baptism of any kind can save a lost soul—only Jesus can do that. However, this baptism was an important covenant between me and God, symbolizing not only my death and resurrection with Jesus and my public profession of faith, but it also my life change, the beginning of my bearing fruit. “For each tree is known by its own fruit…”according to Luke 6:44. During the past year and a half, the LORD has provided me with an informal pastoral internship in my church, teaching me every aspect of discipleship. Simultaneously, I have been studying unceasing prayer and worship. I am now very different than I was five years ago.
In the Book of Acts (which tells the story of the earliest years of the Church) every time a person decided to follow Christ, two things took place—though not always in the same order. Each person experienced a life change, which I call the “baptism of repentance,” as well as the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, which I call the “baptism of the Spirit.” Looking back, I realize that the Holy Spirit was living in me in 2003, but it wasn’t until I surrendered everything to God, as represented by my immersion, that I allowed the Spirit to have His way in me and transform my life. “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now life in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. (Galatians 2:20)”
Have you invited Jesus to live in you? Have you allowed the Spirit to transform your life?
I tell you this story for two reasons. First, I tell this story in order to boast in the LORD! May God our Father get all praise and glory forever! Second, I tell this story because it is relevant to you. Likely you have heard that I am leaving the country: I have let my light shine before you; please let your light shine within the Church, too! This congregation is in revival, and as each of you allows the Spirit to revive you, the entire Church will be revived and utterly transformed, to the glory of the Most High God. And for His glory is the reason He created us; the reason He sent His only Son to reveal Himself to us; the reason He became Sin for us and died for us on the cross—while we were still sinners; and the reason that He conquered death and offered us eternal life with Him.
It will cost you a lot—in fact, it will cost you everything, your very life. But if you have never surrendered your life to Christ Jesus, if you have never invited Him to send His Spirit into you and to transform your life, then do it right now. Just let go of everything to which you are desperately clinging; stop trying to do it yourself! This is the very reason you are still breathing in this physical life—God has been delaying His judgment of this sinful world because He is waiting for you—2 Peter 3:9 says He wants none to perish!
If you have already invited the Spirit into your life, then live like it! Bear fruit! Anyone and everyone who meets you or knows you or sees you or hears you should know immediately and clearly that Jesus the Christ lives in you and loves them! That is how stark the contrast should be between your life and the world around you!
Have you immersed yourself in God’s Word and in prayer in the last twenty-four hours?
If you call yourself a follower of Christ, then there is no excuse for not communing with Him daily! Anchor yourself in the Word! God has revealed Himself to us through His Son, Jesus Christ, and the Bible is a complete and accurate record of that revelation. And prayer is humbly letting Him love us. Let Him love you! God doesn’t need us, but He wants us! God doesn’t need us to live for Him—He wants to live in and through us! Let us love and fellowship with one another, even when you disagree! Pray for each other—the names in the church directory are a great place to start! Church, we are not only the Body of Christ, but we are the Bride of Christ. We have allowed ourselves to get bedraggled and stained—now let us stand to the glory of God! Let’s let Him purify us, restore us, and love us!
My dear Brothers and Sisters, if you have ever once been blessed by God our Father at work in me, then I urge you, please, take seriously His desire to love and work in you, beyond anything you can ask or imagine! I have told you the beginning of my story—may it end in glory to the Father, in the Name of Jesus, by way of His Spirit.
Now, what is your story?