Sunday, November 1, 2009

Making Tracks






Location: A cold train station in Tirgu Mures, just after 7am on Saturday, the 31 of October.

Most train stations in Europe, for those of you not familiar with them, are purposely uncomfortable so that vagabonds like me do not stay in them too long. This small one is no exception. The waiting room is not closed-off to the tomorrow-is-November chilly air that attacks me through 5 layers of clothes to make me shiver. So I will exercise my fingers quickly to tell you about my week in Oradea before I go off to find a warmer environment.

Yes, the Lord woke me up just as we were pulling into this station; so you see that I caught some winks on the ride. I was encouraged by my Oradean host to try to get a place in the sleeper car, but when I tried, the men were looking for a bribe that would have nearly doubled my ticket price. So I was happy to tell them "nevermind" as I turned my back, but when I found my seat in the middle of a compartment with four other men, at least three of them drunk, I was questioning my decision. Nonetheless, I reminded myself and my God that I trusted Him to meet my needs and to care for me, and as always, He proved Himself faithful. At the first tiny stop, not far from Oradea, the three drunk men departed, and after a pleasant conversation in Romanian and a few short naps, my final neighbor also left. Thus, I had an entire compartment to myself--my own bedroom!--and I slept quite well, all things considered.

But I know, you are wondering about my week. It started with a night train ride, too, another one that was uneventful, but also not very restful. Nonetheless, I found Oradea ready for me, and my host, S., found me. He was the friend of a friend, a Christian entreprenuer, and I immediately liked him. His family was likewise wonderful!

That very first morning, I found myself running around town with my new brother, and before long I joined him in a meeting with the executive director of the local office of one of the international mission agencies. After that, he dropped me off at a meeting with the administration of the organization for youth with disabilities, with whom I had volunteered this past summer. Already, I could see doors opening up for me in Oradea, as they have been in Sighisoara, and for that matter, most everywhere I have gone. Then I visited a little boy I knew who was in the hospital. That night I had dinner with friends, and wrapped up a day that had been so good that I almost wished the rest of the week would not happen, unsure that it could measure up.

To my delight, the entire week was super. Because her boy was in the hospital, I substituted for his mother at the disabilities center on Tuesday, and Thursday found me there again--a fun reunion with my friends from the summer. During the week I had several reunions with young people I had met a few months ago, only failing to meet up with a couple of them. I also had a few other nice dinners with friends and attended some prayer meetings. I met one young man who is involved in a prayer house not far from Sighisoara, and it is patterned after the 24/7 International House of Prayer in Kansas City (which I visited just before I left the States). On Friday, I attended the first part of a three-day, nationwide prayer conference--all in Romanian, of course. In fact, I spent most of the week communicating primarily in Romanian, which was maybe difficult for some of those trying to understand me, but which was excellent for my language acquisition!

Wednesday morning was another highlight, as I was invited to join three Romanian ministry-men on an off-roading trip to a mountain village. Without a 4x4 vehicle, it would have been impossible, for our tires were remembering roads that used to be, or creating their own tracks for the next person to follow. A wild day that resulted in the purchase of six enormous sacks of homegrown potatoes, it was a lot of fun!

Another adventure was one that I have come to expect. Literally as we walked (a little late) into an upper-room prayer meeting, my host turned to me and said, "It would be great if you would share a little something!" Ignoring my questions, he led the way in, leaving me to wonder how I would share from the Romanian Bible I had with me, the one I could hardly understand. So far, that night takes the cake for the least amount of warning, but the Lord is always faithful, and the Spirit spoke again that night. Nevertheless, what a good reminder to always be ready to give the reason for the hope that we have in Jesus!

One last highlight was a second visit to the children's hospital, with a Romanian high-schooler and friend. As we headed over, he reminded me that the guard would want a bribe since it was not visiting hours, and I recalled that another friend of mine had found herself in a similar situation once. I had not had trouble the previous day because I entered with a medical student! So I told him to keep quiet if we got in trouble; I would do the talking--I did not want them to know he was Romanian. Sure enough, as I tried to march through the gate in my Romanian hat, we were stopped and questioned as to where we were going. My friend, enjoying the task of trying to be American, showed-off his English with a "Can't you just let us in, man?" I shot him a dirty look and used my best broken Romanian to answer that (obviously!) we were going to the children's hospital. He looked at me and asked if I was part of the Foundation, and I said yes, not knowing what he was talking about. That was the secret password, evidentally, because to my friend's amazement, he waved us through the gate. I am part of a foundation in Sighisoara, but I have no idea what foundation I was with that night!

So I had a great week, but my fingers are hardening with their frozen blood vessels, keeping me from sharing any more details. When I am able to post this on the internet, I will try to include a few photos, though I did not take many. Instead I savored every moment, enjoying fellowship and praying about the big picture. Now, in a few hours, my team from the foundation (*wink!*) in Sighisoara will pick me up here, and we will make tracks to where we will do a workshop and Sunday school program today. My faithful God will be my strength until and even after I catch up on my sleep. What a privilege it is to travel with Him and watch while He works wonders!

My week of prayer, of relationship-building, and of adventuring with God has deposited me at the threshold of Tirgu Mures. I wonder what today might bring?

Whatever it brings me, I pray that it brings you a fresh glimpse of our faithful Father's work in your life. May you be blessed, and my His Name be praised!
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A Rose From Home

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?