(Location: Train between Sighisoara and Hunedoara, 1:38pm on the 18th of July)
So now I have driven up and down that steep farm road several times, having passed the first driving test I was given. Early last week was only the second or third time I had done so, and I only had D., my boss' eldest son, with me in the van--our other 15 year old coworker was working up the hill a ways. Because of a deep rut in the middle of the path, I lost traction and killed the engine. At that point, the climb was too steep to start, so I had to back up, trailer and all. During the process, things became more difficult, and we had to adjust the (fortunately!) empty trailer by hand a couple of times. Then, D. said to stop, because one wheel was in the air.
Knowing that the trailer had four sturdy wheels and was hitched to the sturdy van, I was not overly concerned, despite the drop-off on our right. Not quite a cliff, I still did not want to go too far over the edge, so I got out to inspect the situation myself. I must admit that I was surprised when I went around the corner and found that the van wheel, not the trailer wheel, was in the air, and not a little! Suddenly I pictured my boss coming around the corner and finding us in that predicament; not a fun day-dream! With some help from S., our other coworker who had by now returned to join us and ask us how in tarnation we had done that, we managed to get the van back on all fours and up the hill. I was thinking that might be a situation better left undescribed, but when I arrived a little late to lunch that day, everyone looked at my while one of the younger sons asked, "Was the van really on three wheels!?"
No, I have not had too much trouble with the van; stuck on the incline once or twice, stuck in the mud once, the muffler coming off. . . but those things are to be expected when you use a Volkswagen like a bulldozer, and I do not think I have lost a bale of hay with it yet!
The tractor, though, that is another story. Having learned to drive it in circles one day, I was not expecting to get the privilege more often. Suddenly my boss sent me up the hill with it one day, pulling TWO trailers! Talk about a crash course! I was a bit nervous, because I did even now how to start the tractor or raise its scoop, much less pull two trailers. But a few quick instructions and I found out that it was not too bad; up we went. Coming down loaded is a different story, of course, and I have not done that yet with two trailers--only with one hay-heavy tow.
My bigger tractor adventure was toward the end of the week when our boss took us up the hill for hay after the previous night's rainstorm. Were I in that situation, I would take one empty trailer, but my boss likes a good challenge. He pulled up with the large trailer loaded with dirt to repair the road, and the smaller trailer filled with about a dozen crates of rotten apples to be dumped. It was not long before one crate of apples fell, promoting me to the position of hang-on-to-the-back-of-the-cart-for-dear-life-while-holding-rotten-apples-on-so-we-do-not-loose-any-more! It smelled nice, but it was not a fun job! To make matters worse, we were ordered to push with John Deere started fish-tailing up the 45 degree slope, but it is hard to push when you cannot even stand upright in the slick mud, and when you have to hold apples in an old horse cart being pulled by a tractor. Finally, halfway up, we unhitched the cart and left the apples. When we made it to the top, I was asked to return with my boss to get the apple cart, so naturally I hopped in the scoop.
Picture this: a large green John Deere tractor racing backwards down a steep mudslide with me crouched leap-frog style in the scoop, looking past my boss to see the rapidly approaching apple cart. Talk about a thrill! We got the cart, and again I was given the apple-holding responsibility. We emptied both trailers, loaded them with hay, and came back down.
Yes, "hay week" is an interesting time.
(Now I am at the camp outside of Hunedoara; it is just after 7:00am on the second day of camp, the 20th of July.)
I have other stories from hay week, about God's marvelous provision and protection. You see, there was a lot of spiritual warfare going on, for those of you familiar with that, and I thank you for your prayers. For instance, it rained every single day, even if it was only a brief sprinkle, but a couple of times it really re-shaped our plans. One day we had to leave the VW at the top of the hill because we were drenched in a rain storm and could not drive it back down the muddy road. One day, the boards in the hay loft I was working in gave way, and I fell through, finally managing to catch myself with my arms spread like a gymnast, most of my body dangling through the ceiling of the room below. It would not have been more than a ten- or twelve-foot drop, but it was one I did not want to take. Another day I stretched out on the ground beneath the rear of the trailer to hook on the tie-straps we would use to secure our load. Something happened above and six or eight hay bales tumbled down, directly on top of me. However, though only my legs were left stick out out from under them, none of them touched me, having piled up just right on the trailer hitch and creating a cave around me.
It was worse for my boss than for me. Did I mention that on the very first day, six machines and/or vehicles broke down? He also got a call about a job he had done in the past, informing him about a problem that needed attention. But in the midst of these challenges, it was a good reminder to find a snake baled in a bale of hay, cut in half and dead. It reminded us that Jesus won the victory at the cross, that that snake, satan, has already been defeated, and that we can live confidently, knowing that the victorious life of Jesus is living in us and through us if we have surrendered to Him.
Thank you for your prayers during hay week. I have more stories, but not time for them all. In some ways, it was a hard week, but I really enjoyed that kind of work. Sure, I have the cuts and splinters on my arms to prove it, but it is a job well-done, done to the glory of God.
May your week be the same: glory to God. I bless You in the Name of our Jesus!
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?