Sunday, July 25, 2010

Half Camped-Out!






Location: Train number 375 between Deva and Sighisoara, Romania, nearly 7:00 on the evening of the 25th of July.

I just caught a few winks after four nights in a row of only four hours' sleep, so now I can concentrate enough to write a bit about the week I just finished. Though as always I cannot promise to have time to include many pictures, I am hoping to have an opportunity to get on the internet tonight in Sighisoara before heading home early tomorrow morning. Tomorrow begins another camp in the hills above my village, and if I understand correctly, I will be living in tents with some 95 children. Fun? I will have to let you know!

Speaking of what you know, you may or may not know that I was volunteering at a camp outside of Hunedoara and Deva this week (hence the train). I started to write about it above, but I have not yet had an opportunity to post that entry. God's hand was certainly at work in sending me to this camp, for I had fully intended to decline the invitation. Yet I ended up going and thus spent a week with two of my beautiful friends in Romania. Sure, they are lovely to the eyes if you see them, but their hearts are so beautiful that you quickly forget what they look like--that is what I mean by beautiful.

Only understanding that I would be helping with a disabilities camp, I found myself as one of sixty people at a special handicap-accessible retreat center near the mountains in southern Romania. My primary responsibility was worship leader, but I also spent significant time daily as a small group leader, a translator, and a servant doing chores. It was my privilege to make friends with folks with various types of disabilities, including autism, epilepsy, and problems with sight, walking, talking, etc. Two of the gals on my worship team sang from their wheelchairs, and some of the most inspirational messages during the week were shared passionately by C.

C. is now engaged to be married to a fine lady who also has a walking disability--he has prayed for eleven years for God to send him a wife. He is confined to a wheelchair, his legs always folded in a kneeling position, and his arms do not work well enough for him to feed himself. He can utter unusual sounds if he contorts his face dreadfully, though usually he sits quietly in his chair with a huge smile plastered on his face. This young man preached in forty churches last year. You see, even though most people cannot understand him, his fiancee has a special gift of understanding him, so she translates patiently and passionately from his Romanian into more intelligible Romanian. We, of course, then translated his words into English as well. One night he taught us that when God looks at us, He delights in us as we shine with the light of Jesus--like we delight in star-gazing at night. We are God's stars! Another time he said (in my English paraphrase), "Do you ask why God made me like this? I have to screw up my face to talk, I have to be fed by someone else, and I cannot walk." Then he pointed at his wife-to-be and said, "There is my mouth!" He pointed to another friend and said, "There is my hands!" He pointed to another friend and said, "There is my legs!" He told us how we, too, get to be the mouth and hands and feet of Jesus. This young man led three people to Christ on one of the first nights of the camp!

I could tell you about R., who has faced so much discrimination in here twenty-odd years of life in a wheelchair after a vaccine trapped her soul in a child's body, the size of a six year old. She sings like an angel and now has a vision to open a center in Timisoara for people with disabilities. Or about S., who encourages all the people around her, who translates and helps with worship, who tells jokes and offers hugs to those who will receive them. Or of V. who has notebooks full of poems and songs he has written from his wheelchair, or D. who limps through pain with a cane while fighting for the rights of her disabled friends and family members. Together we laughed and cried, played games with balloons and water, and read and studied the Book of Esther, through which we were reminded that God is always at work, even when we have trouble recognizing it! We had a couple children of about 5 years of age, all the way up to a few folks in their seventies. We celebrated three or four birthdays, and really had a nice week.

For me, it was an extremely difficult week, though I know I was blessed and got to be a blessing. For example, if you think about it, Romanian is my fourth language. Though it is coming along, it has some big gaps, and I make some hilarious mistakes sometimes. As you can imagine, that made it terribly challenging for me to lead worship (in Romanian) and to translate (in front of a room of fifty people). Leading worship was especially trying because I had to be prepared to lead at least twice per day, in the beginning only having a flautist and myself who played instruments, and without having a guitar, I was left to use my violin or to try to bang out something on the keyboard. Later in the week we acquired a less-than-excellent guitar that quickly reminded me that my garden-work callouses had replaced my guitar callouses that have not been used, and my fingers are very sore now. I was limited to songs--oi! you do not care about all this! Anyway, we had other difficulties with publicizing the words of the songs, with my "tech" guy, and not having time for rehearsal. In addition to challenges in leading worship and translation, I also battled a gross lack of sleep for a variety of reasons. Meanwhile, inside of me, emotional and theological battles rages as I was confronted with life all around me; simultaneously, our team faced numerous spiritual attacks each day. Thank you for your prayers; my Lord pulled me through to His glory!

One beautiful aspect of people with disabilities is how often and how gently they help one another. I hardly can describe the scenes of them pushing wheelchairs or offering an arm of support, hugs and encouraging words, prayers for one another, and so on. My disability this week was my language in the spotlights of translation and worship leading: I was overwhelmed by grace as time and again I was helped. Often, four or five of us would work together to translate something correctly. (I was the only native English speaker there who spoke Romanian). Which reminds me, I really enjoyed my new friends from Scotland and England, but it makes me smile that because of their thick accents, there were times when I could actually understand them better after their words had been translated into Romanian!

I could tell you more, but you do not want to sit in front of the computer all day. Instead, sit before our Lord today, and remember how much He loves You. Please pray for I. and M., my good friends from Hunedoara who organized this camp. Also, please pray for G. from Scotland, the one who received the vision for the foundation that has grown out of this camp, with the goal of eradicating discrimination against people with disabilities in Romania. The four of us had a special connection this week as we linked arms and stood and spat in the face of the Enemy's attacks, interceding for one another and for our brothers and sisters with disabilities. Please pray for my other new friends this week; each one faces unique challenges and has special gifts God is using.

We have reached Medias, which means that the next stop will be my destination. May you, also, safely reach today's destination for this part of your journey, and may your life proclaim that you are blessed by a Jesus who loves you indescribably!
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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?