Tuesday, May 18, 2010

A Verbal Slideshow














Location: Living room in hosts' house, Oradea, Romania (7:45am on the 18th of May)

Hi Friends! Thanks for your patience until I am now able to post an update. As you can imagine, the first few days in Romania have been fairly busy. This transition time will continue for a little while because I am only passing through Oradea, so it will be another week or so before I can unpack and settle into a routine. Neither is my internet access assured at any of those points. So let me take this opportunity to fill you in!

My rainy welcome in Budapest and Oradea is in stark contrast to the beautiful May days I left in Indiana. The rain has continued everyday (I wonder if it has anything to do with volcanic ash in the heavens?), though the Lord held it back when I had to be outdoors with my luggage. I caught a taxi from the Budapest airport after collecting all of my luggage and passing through customs without a blink of an eye. From the train station, I had no trouble catching a train, except for being out of practice with some of the local "customs" and getting caught in a couple of situations where I had to tip my help without originally planning to (yet in reality I was grateful for the help, so what are a couple of dollars?). As opposed to the long flights made longer by a two-hour delay on the JFK runway, I was able to sleep a little on the four-hour train ride. Nevertheless, as you can imagine, I was ready when I reached my destination with some sun even peeking through the clouds. My strength endured to the door of my hosts' house, where I found no one home!

Now, lest you think I have poor hosts, let me assure you that they have always and continue to treat me like one of their own. I am their American family member, and I greatly appreciate their splendid hospitality. Besides, the father was in the hospital from an automobile accident, which helps to explain the family's absence. And, you know that I love adventures, so it simply made for a fun story. For, you see, though I was still smiling, I was conserving my strength and had no desire to search for another of my other friends in town with more than one hundred pounds of luggage under a dismal forecast. I also had not had an opportunity to buy telephone minutes yet. Nor did I want to leave my luggage on the sidewalk. Thus, I tried the logical thing: I politely approached a couple of elderly neighbor ladies (who had told me to knock louder, certain that someone was home) and with my best Romanian asked if I could leave my baggage inside their door while I went to purchase telephone minutes. They politely told me "No." They probably assumed I was an American terrorist with bombs in my bags. However, later they sent a daughter down to offer to make a phone call for me. That, too, failed, when she found out that the number I had was from a phone carrier different from hers, so she apologized and again told me "no" when I tried my luggage question again, explaining that her mother did not want to keep my bags. So I went to another neighbor's house and rang the bell, but no one answered their, probably being warned by Romanian Intelligence that there was a foreign intruder in the neighborhood with a puppet in his pack.

This saga only lasted twenty or thirty minutes before the eldest daughter of my hosts sauntered in and saved the day. I was offered a meal and a shower, and soon felt at home again. The following days have been a blur. That evening, I met my friend V. at the grocery store and was introduced to her mother, visiting from Malaysia, and I happily tasted some of their ethnic cuisine. The next morning found me at a large church where I was asked to speak, with the request that I do so in the evening service. Thus I returned under the downpour at dinner time to share before that church, having spent the afternoon in the hospital visiting my host-father whose broken leg is mending only a bit slower than his spirits. Monday was a fun day, because I surprised the young people and my former collegues at the center for youth with disabilities where I worked the first time I came to Romania. I spent the day with them before helping V. and her mom get to the train station. I spent a part of the afternoon on the phone with my bank in the USA, trying to get ATM headaches straightened out, with both Visa and the bank simultaneously blaming the other for my problems; then I took a beautiful nap before getting beaten in chess by the youngest of my host family. He and I later enjoyed a hilarious adventure to the pharmacy where we managed to purchase laxatives after two visits and broken dialogue with the bewildered pharmacist. When I first made my request, she told me "No." Confused, I responded with a question: "No, you do not have them, or no, we do not need them?" We laughed at the funny situation, knowing that I had not even requested laxatives for elephants like I had considered doing!

Meanwhile, the show must go on, and I am preparing for a family workshop and picnic with about five families on Saturday. Most of my energy will be focused on that this week, and I am looking forward to it. Plus, I am enjoying being back in Romania. There have already been many blessings, and I have contacted a few of my friends in different parts of the country to let them know I am here. Sure, there will be adventures and aches and pains ahead, but I am happy. Life is good because God is good, and rain or shine, I plan to enjoy that life and my great God! I pray that you do, too!

Thanks for your prayers! I will do my best to keep you posted, to respond to emails, and to post photos. But even if that becomes infrequent, know that my prayers are not! I bless you in the Name of the one and only Jesus Christ!
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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?