Evangelism Seminar

(My current location: near Sighisoara, Romania, soon to be in the USA)

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Exciting news! I have an invitation for you: I will be visiting Indianapolis briefly before returning to Romania, and together with your (the local Church's) help I will host an evangelism workshop, "Painless Evangelism: A fresh look at eternal truth." For me and many of you, the idea of outreach and witnessing is a scary thought. But I have traveled all over the world with Jesus and can promise to offer you a unique perspective on this intimidating aspect of the Christian life. Please join me and folks from other local congregations in the chapel at my churh on Tuesday, October 12th from 7pm to 9pm. (I hope also to have Spanish translation.) Young and old and members and visitors, Christians and non-Christians, all are welcome! Entry is free; please pray in advance! For more details, please email me. I bless you from Romania in the Name of our Jesus!

(If you have not read the latest post, it is below, with photos.)

"V" is for my Villages

(Location: My freshly-swept house in the village of C., Romania, 12:30pm on the 27th of September. There are ripe grapes on vines covering half of my open window, and there is a lingering oder of woodsmoke from last night's fire in the stove. The sunlight streaming in has mostly dried the evidence of the downpour that drenched just before sunset yesterday, but the breeze blows the clouds across the sun as though teasing it. My bike waits just outside the door for our next journey, probably in a couple of hours.)

Just add water. What I mean is, as usual, I am going to give you the "concentrate" version of what I would really like to tell you, and you will have to "just add water" to reconstitute the original contents! Ironically, that is what God did as I galloped across a meadow last night with some of my young friends. We were completely saturated with water by the time a rainbow interrupted the down pour and pulled the sunset out from behind the cloudburst. We were laughing and singing and enjoying the fact that we could enjoy getting wet, though by the time our horses finally staggered home, we were a bit cold, and I was quick to light a fire in my stove. The descent down the old farm road had literally been a mudslide. After one horse fell to his haunches forcing one girl to jump free, we dismounted and slid down on foot, leading our mounts and trying to slide faster than they were so we would not be knocked sprawling. Have I told you that I love adventure!?

No, but the best parts of this week for me were by far my days spent in V. and V. The village of V. is where I aim to live one day, and where my friend T. is working to renovate a 500-year-old church building. Despite the fact that this village has been the focal point of my return to Romania, I had been unable to get there, for a variety of reasons. Finally, last Wednesday, I went, visiting for the first time since last January! I was elated, and to make things even better, it was a gorgeous day there!

I do not have many pictures from my visit, except a few hurried shots snapped out the car window, because we were busy! I helped a few other guys laying hardwood floor in the church, and then we invited the town for a short preaching time, and I preached to a congregation of adults and children, Orthodox, Prostestant, and a Catholic. You may remember that the very first time I visited V., I preached, then on the church steps. Last Wednesday, however, we brought in benches and gathered inside! People kept coming, even after I had begun, and they all crammed on to the four large benches we had placed in the sanctuary. Afterwards, T., who had also translated for me, was kicking himself for his lack of faith. He had put four benches, and God filled them completely! Why had he not placed more? He had not expected that many people to come! Next time, we will place more benches in faith!

Many challenges greeted me each day, but Thursday afternoon was another memorable delight. I visited V., which is another village outside of Sighisoara, in an opposite direction from the more isolated village of V. where I preached Wednesday. You see, this village, V., is the one that I am responsible for visiting each week before we do our children's program there on Saturdays. It was also my village last year, so the people know me. I was back for the first time a week ago, and when I was asked to help the men building the roof, but this week's visit was even better.

I arrived in the midst of the children coming home from school, and two of the boys agreed to take me up the hill to the more remote houses. We had some good conversations with folks and laughs among ourselves, and we ate apples off the tree. In fact, I almost got a haircut from a young man giving a friend a trim, and I probably would have had I not had the responsibility to visit several more families before getting picked up by my team! Then we decided to go fishing for minnows in the creek. I straddled the creek, and they asked me if I could really catch them with my hands, especially since they had all swam away by now. I said, "Shhh...," and I leaned closer to the water as they all leaned in to see better. Splash! With one sweep of my hand, I managed to get each of them a little wet! We all laughed at my trick, and then we hopped into a horse cart and road through town, with me shouting reminders of our coming program as we passed by. Then we made a quick stop in another corner of the village where there is a small church, and they showed me inside the room where the church gathers a couple of times each week. What a fun visit!

As planned, we re-started our kids' programs, doing six last week (as we will each week). I was involved in four of them, trying to get back into the rhythm after not having done it for almost a year. In addition, my role has changed, and with my improving Romanian, I am now working on stage a lot without translation. Thursday I was shocked all over again in the village of A., which I described last year as reminding me of a savage jungle village. Indeed, naked, dirty kids came racing toward us, some cheering, some insulting us. Because I am fairly strict when necessary, they were telling me that they do not like me as well as my collegue who is in New York for four months! Friday was challenging in our "backyard" neighborhood, the community around our ministry base, and Saturday morning we arrived to find that my visit to V. had paid off and we had a large crowd ready for the program. However, again we found obstacles and had to persevere, so it was a real blessing when we regrouped and presented our last program in an area of town that is new for us--full of children living in apartment blocks (this is where I went Christmas caroling last year, if you recall). By God's grace and ingenuity, that program went very smoothly and was so much fun--after the longest sack-race in history, I had divided the children good-naturedly into (grunting) gorillas and girls, instead of boys and girls as usual, and we really enjoyed ourselves!

So thank you for your prayers. This week will be another busy week, beginning with a special choir concert tonight. Actually, yesterday found me already studying dyslexia, which may draw me into deeper study of this fascinating gift which is far more than a learning disability, and then this morning I gave a test in English and taught a French lesson. Now, after a quick haircut, I am using my day off as effectively as I can before I find myself in a calendar of children's programs, school lessons, and hopefully a visit to both V. and V. before the week is over. This schedule is particularly critical for a special reason, but if you have read this far, I will let you in on the secret...

This weekend, I will be flying to the USA for a brief visit! After all, I cannot miss my sister's wedding!

If you are in the US, and especially if you are in the Indianapolis area, keep your eyes open for an invitation to a special gathering on Tuesday the 12th of October, before I return to Romania. The invitation will be on my blog, either before or after this post... Maybe I will see you soon!

PS I am going to try to add a photo from this evening (Monday night, 27 September). I had the privilege of singing at and attending a special ceremony tonight for a local Christian charity started by a Scottish woman with an American history. It was not special because it was held in the brand new hotel, but because many key persons in the city were present, including persons from all sorts of Christian traditions. I will not try to describe it, but it was proof of God at work in this city.

Little Miss Muffin, a Damsel in Distress, and Victory!

Location: My house, the village of C., Romania, at 6pm on the 18th of September, 2010.

Yes, believe it or not, I am sitting quietly in my house! The past two weeks have been hectic with the commute into town and back, and frequently I am sleeping elsewhere, either at J's apartment or my place of work. But there is nothing like home sweet home!

As I often do, I will fill you in backwards. Today proved to be interesting. It was our first day of starting up the children's program in our village after the primary leader moved elsewhere last spring. Though I had not attended this "Little Explorers" group in the past, my opinion says that it was a stunning success. We sang songs, taught about Creation, and went on a hike to bring back pieces of nature, with nearly 30 children in attendance. I will not often be involved here because I normally will be involved in another children's program with my other job, but it was good to be here today for the kickoff to encourage the leaders who were a little unsure about doing it without their fearless leader from the past!

Do you ever feel that way? Like you cannot continue something if the gifted person who began a good work eventually has to move on? Please let me remind you that our God, from whom every good thing comes, will continue to be with you and lead you as long as you let Him! Trust Him if He puts His confidence in you, and continue to press on in obedience!

Even with teaching French and English this morning, our debut program, and other work I had today, the day proved slower than I expected. Thus I caught a needed nap (during which I had more dreams--please continue to pray for my understanding of these dreams), and now I have time to write and hopefully to catch up on my huge pile of emails from the past several weeks!

Yesterday found me visiting the community of V., the dear people of whom I worked with many times last year. (This is a different village than the one I plan to live in.) It was good to see the kids there, and to be able to tell them that we will be starting up our weekly programs there next week. I visited town by myself, but I was delighted to be so easily accepted into that rough area. In fact, I had a special victory.

You see, as I walked by some men putting a roof on a house, one started challenging me, asking me to come help for half an hour. I did not understand everything he said, and wondered if he might not be drunk, and politely declined, explaining that I still had a lot of houses to visit. He persisted, and I continued to decline, eventually walking away. After about three steps, though, I knew what I had to do. I did an about-face and walked up to him, asking him how I could help. It turns out they did not really need my help, and after we conversed for a while, they sent me merrily on my way asking for prayer and blessing me verbally. However, I heard him say, "I never dreamed he would actually come! I can't believe it!" He told me that he saw I had a good heart, and I told him maybe we could work together another time. In that brief delay, I won an enormous victory in front of several neighbors. I gained this man's respect; now I am more than a foreign do-gooder and child-worker who brings candy and leaves, who says nice things but does no real work to back up what he says. I won a victory that will result in that home being open to me anytime I need to enter, and I will have an advocate in that village--a man's voice--which is extremely valuable. May God get the glory, and may this man come to know Jesus intimately. Please pray for him. I asked him his Name, and he basically told me John, like John the Baptist. I had trouble understanding if he was telling me the truth, but if you pray for "John," the Lord will know who you mean. Please pray for the Lord to meet his every spiritual and physical need.

Yes, the life I live is often humbling, even humiliating, as my days unroll in the middle of a foreign culture. Through my weaknesses, failures, and mistakes, the Lord reveals His majesty, to the glory of His Name. Yet this week, not only did He lead me into the victory I described above, but He also permitted me the opportunity of saving a damsel in distress. For those of you who do not know, I enjoy being the knight in shining armor, and it is not often that I get to play the role in an appropriate setting.

Nevertheless, as I headed to our first-of-the-season rehearsal for our gospel choir, I stood outside the door a moment making an adjustment on my cell phone. I heard a bit of an odd knocking, but dismissed it as yet another unusal noise in an unfamiliar culture. However, when I entered the building, I realized there indeed was a frantic knocking, coming from behind the stairwell door. The stairs leading up to the choir room have a large door at the bottom, and it had been locked by a key. I spoke through the door to the distressed damsel, then hurried off to get the key. Soon the door was opened to reveal one of the newly-arrived American students I had recently met. Catastrophe averted!

Certainly, I had many frustrations and challenges this week, but I am trying to be more positive in my outlook. In fact, this week proved easier to be positive, because of these blessings. One of the best blessings turned out to be Little Miss Muffin. (Yes, I know the nursury rhyme actually tells of Little Miss Muffet...) However, last weekend, a friend and I were looking for a snack, and I commented how wonderful a good muffin sounded. To tell you the truth, though, I could not remember seeing any muffins in Romania. Thus, he and I went without. When Tuesday rolled around, though, I had to swing by a friend's place to deliver something for her. I conveniently arrived when she and her mom were making apple cinnamon muffins! You can imagine that I was not slow in explaining how they were an answered prayer!

So, yes, I agree, I have already written more than enough. Thanks for your prayers. Two weeks of transition into my new role in Sighisoara are over, and now we settle into the regular schedule. Thanks for your prayers; please do not stop praying. Please also pray for my dear brother J. and his wife, E., who along with their little N. headed to the ghettos of New York City for four months! I miss them, but it will be a great time of growing for them. It will be especially difficult for E., who has not experienced the like before. I am praying for you, and I must tell you that the Lord clearly answered many of my prayers last week--may we continue to praise His Name!

Before I close, I want to observe how clean my white socks became when I washed them in a laundry machine this week. Though I scrub them hard by hand and use bleach, they came out so much whiter when I simply throw them in a washing machine.

As I prepare a lesson about Everyone Struggles with Sin for our children here, let me remind you that sin is like that. You can try to scrub and bleach out the dark spots in your life, but you will never be completely clean. But the moment you surrender yourself to the grace of Jesus Christ, letting Him cleanse you to the glory of His Father, all those stains will be gone. Stop scrubbing frantically and let the Lord be lord of your life. He is better than a yearned-for muffin, He saves those in distress, and He has already won the victory.

I bless you in His Name, the Name of Jesus!

Romanian Triathlon

Location: J's apartment in Sighisoara--my second home now--at 8pm on the 13th of September.

So today, I did a Romanian triathlon. Well, that is how I would tell it, anyway. After French-lesson warm-ups this morning, I biked 20 kilometers, cut wood with the chainsaw for a couple of hours, and then finished by splitting the rounds with a maul. Maybe no one competed against me, and maybe this is not an offical sport, but if you ask my arms, legs, back, head, or any other part of my body, it would tell you that I certainly did not sit around and do nothing all day!

This was a busy weekend because of another trip to Targu Mures, but it had a lot of highlights. One of my favorites was hitchhiking on the back of a motorcycle last Friday evening. The cool thing is that God sent the cyclist to pick me up. You see, I did not even signal for him to stop, because I was not sure if I should hail a motorcycle. Sure enough, he passed me . . . only to turn around and come back to ask if I wanted a ride! He was a young orthopedics doctor from Cluj-Napoca, and I enjoyed our conversation.

I also got to visit with some of my good friends after wearing myself out running errands unsuccessfully on Saturday. One of them, especially, is one of those men of God who just glows with gentle grace, and as he hugged me, led worship and Bible study, and then chatted with me after, the Lord used him to raise my spirits. Another blessing was conversing with a another friend and suggesting to him that maybe he was too often talking about the negative side of things and other people, exhorting him to honor God with every word and every thought. The next morning, another good friend of mine, another one covered completely in humility and godliness, told me in the course of our conversation that I, for example, tend to always cite the problems when I am describing something. Whoa! I was taken aback (partially because everything comes across more direct when someone is using a second language), but I realized she was right. I had thought I had destroyed my critical nature some time ago when I realized it was harmful, but thanks to I.'s willingness to challenge and convict me, I realize that I have quite a bit more ugliness to leave at the foot of the cross.

Perhaps you already learned this lesson, but it is crucial for me. (Ironically, I am guessing that the word "crucial" comes from the same origin as "cross" and "crucify", which is appropriate--only by dying to myself can I let Christ live in me!) I think I have mentioned before that everything is spiritual. And it is true! For example, Dad asked me the other day if I have become a regular hitchhiker. Yep. I have, but you must remember that hitchhiking is very different here. Grandmas and grandpas hitchhike, single moms with children hitchhike, . . . for many, it is the only practical way to travel any sort of distance. But I have said that I do not know how people hitchhike without knowing God. Sure, you have to trust Him when you may not have a working seatbelt, or maybe when you are riding with a deaf couple who keep looking at each other to speak in sign language while the car barrels ahead at break-neck speed! That is not what I am talking about though. For me, the entire process is prayer. As I decide whether to hitchhike or bike, I pray. As I consider the weather, I pray. As I walk to the unofficial-official hitchhiking spot, I pray. Each time, I know that the Lord has a particular car and a particular person in mind, and so as I watch the cars pass, I wait for him (wisely, women do not usually pick up hitchhikers). Then I let God lead our conversation, and determine the cost of my ride. I think if I were not with Jesus the whole time, I would get very discouraged if I had to wait for more than a half-hour, or when it started to rain or get dark, or when too many people are crammed into one car.

You see, hitchhiking is a spiritual activity. In the same way, commuting by bike is a great time to pray (it takes your mind off your straining muscles and organs). So, too, is chopping wood. As I look at these things from God's perspective, realizing that a lot of people around me mistake me for a missionary, I have to remember that He is using every moment and every perception to teach me or others something, to bless me or others, or to prepare the next moment. And this is important for me as a man of God who wants to be more godly. Instead of me being the one writing to you about being discouraged and then encouraged, or about convicting someone and then being convicted, I want to be that gentle, wise man who tenderly exuded godliness everytime you met him. I have only met a handful of men and women like that, but those people are impacting the world without breaking a bruised reed.

I am glad I am not a missionary. I have realized two things about missionaries. Many missionaries are suffering from something in their past, maybe an unhealed scar for instance, or they have a disability, or character flaws and foibles. I have also noticed that many missionaries face a lot of discouragement and loneliness, even depression. Church, who are we sending to represent us? I think it is great that God is using some of the weakest and most-broken of His flock to display His majesty! At the same time, are only the "outcasts" willing to go and face the challenges of ministering cross-culturally, because everyone else has a better niche in society? Do not hear me wrong, Missionaries. I am not saying that you are a pariah; instead, I want to emphasize that each of us have weaknesses, but that God wants to use all of us, despite and through our weaknesses! So, Church, how are we supporting these heros and heroines who do decide to go, weaknesses and all? Do we send them a check once a year, shake their hand when they visit us back "home," and then send their monthly newsletters to the trashbin without even glancing at them?

I say that I am glad I am not a missionary, because I do not know if I could uphold the expections we put on those we label "missonaries," while at the same time bearing the trials of culture shock and a life of ministry. The more I interact with missionaries, the more I am embarrassed about the lack of support I have given missionaries in the past. They are maybe lonely or discouraged, drowning in a language they have trouble understanding in a culture into which they do not fit, far from friends and family, and did I send them a note? Did I pray for them? Did I even remember they were gone? Did I wish them a happy birthday or a merry Christmas? Did I welcome them to my home when they were in my neighborhood?

Most people want to help, but a lot of people do not know how. Maybe that is what qualifies me for working abroad. I do not usually know how or what to do, but I normally just try. Yes, sometimes I break things or burn things or have to undo and redo what I did. And I try to learn from it and to avoid that mistake again. But I do not want to be one of the many, many people who had a good thought to help, but their thought never became action because they did not know what to do.

If you are someone who wants to help, but do not know how, just ask me. Especially if Jesus has been reminding you about some of His children oversees who are ministering or being ministered to through prayers of people like you. If you want to pray for or bless in some way some of those involved in God's work in Romania or Indianapolis (or other parts of the world), email me and I will help you do it. I know godly men and women who would greatly appreciate being loved by you. Maybe you have a passion for poor people to have a roof over their heads, or for young women and children to be rescued from prostitution, or for people with disabilities to be treated fairly and with love. I, personally, know people serving in each of these areas. Maybe if you are looking for a tax-deduction I cannot help you. If you want to see one person be blessed, maybe I can.

Do not sit around and do nothing. Spend every moment you have, every activity, in prayer. And then dive into a Romanian triathlon, or an American marathon, or a French decathlon, or whatever challenge you are willing to face, from whichever nation you call home.

Maybe you saw me chopping wood today; I was not--I was preparing heat for my team this winter. Maybe you saw me playing with my cell phone; I was not--I was encouraging a collegue who failed an important test. Maybe you saw me wasting precious time typing a blog; I was not--I was reminding some friends of mine of how precious they are in the sight of their Creator, and that Jesus wants to work through them to lavish His love on the people around them, all over the world.

I bless you in the Name of this lavish Jesus!

Bedtime Story

Location: J's apartment in Sighisoara, Romania, almost 10:30pm on the 7th of September

I have lots to write but sleep is more important at the moment. So let me tell you a quick bedtime story. I just emailed it to a friend, and I realized it is important for all of us to remember.

My parents' neighbors are a wonderful family of four. When the boy was quite a bit younger, maybe 5 years old, he used to help his father mow the lawn. In other words, everytime his father began cutting the grass, he would bring out his plastic lawn mower and "help." Of course, his work was no help at all, but we delighted in watching him, and I think it brought his father great joy to see his son trying to be like him.

In the same way, what I do for God is not that important. In fact, God does not need me, and He certainly does not need my help! He can do a far better job than I can. But He loves to let me "help" him; he enjoys my company when I want to be with my Daddy, when I want to be just like Him.

As I head into dreamland, may you, too, have sweet dreams of growing up to be just like your Daddy, the One who loves you more than you can fathom.

Who You Are

Location: J's apartment in Sighisoara, Romania; Sunday evening the 5th, 6:20pm.


(There are more of these pictures in the post below. I have so much I want to write about, and I certainly do not have time to write all of it. A few of you received email replies, and I will work to reply to the rest soon.

This week, some of my friends put on an English Camp in my village, and I was interviewed by the campers on Thursday. I told them my profession was "Writer." Are you surprised? No, I do not have professional training as an author. No, I do not get paid regularly to write. But I write all of the time. I write blog posts, Bible teachings, songs, poetry, and emails. Where does my identity come from? Does it come from my qualifications? From my salary? Or does it come from what I do?

For me, there is no question that our identity comes from the LORD. From that identity flows our lives and actions. Thus, the LORD made me a writer, and so I write. Someday the rest of the world might recognize it, too, right? I do not have to wait to have libraries of books published before I can call myself a writer.

In the same way, I am a saint. The LORD forgave me and is perfecting me; I am living in His victory, and in His grace. Do I have to wait until I never make anymore mistakes before I can call myself a Christian or a saint? Of course not.

So who are you?

I tell you all of this because I told them that what I do not like about my job is that I have more to write about than I have time to write! Forgive me as I summarize the bountifully blessed life God has given me.)

So as you can see, J. and I did get to meet up in Cluj-Napoca as she passed through from Suceava to Oradea. It was such a blessing to visit with this woman of God; He used her to bring me to Romania originally, and He has blessed me through her many times. Please pray for her as she readjusts back to her life in America, and as she celebrates her birthday next week!

After catching up with J., I returned to my village of C., where I found a lazier week than normal waiting for me. I spent most of the time in the woodshop, working on an individual project. But my real pleasure came from my "all-in-one" night in my house. Here is a photo of it. Our hot weather suddenly turned quite cool and rainy, and so I started up my woodstove for the first time. A success! I did not fill the room with smoke or burn myself or anything else! You can see that I even improvised by drying my dishes on top of the stove!

You can also see another achievement: I washed my clothes indoors for the first time. I converted the second bed in my room into a clothes' rack, and voila. On the dinner table, you can see the grey laundry tub, the orange (fresh) water pail, and my red "kitchen sink." It is amazing how many things you can do in one room in one night with a little creativity!

Incidentally, you will see that my laundry is hanging in the picture. I am not embarrassed. In Romania, nearly everyone has laundry hanging all over. In fact, I sat next to a pile of underwear last time I went to get milk from the neighbor. I think a lot of times in America we pretend that no one else has dirty laundry, so we hide everything. Here, most Romanians recognize that everyone has dirty laundry, and they still love you. And I think they have learned that the best way to get rid of dirty laundry in life is to wash it and hang it out in the sunlight where everyone can deal with it...


One of my spiritual brothers in Indianapolis has been praying not only for me (THANK YOU!), but also for my coworker, I. Here is a picture of the two of us together in I.'s house. He has helped me in many ways, and I look forward to watching God continue to work in his life. Please pray for I., too, as he has a lot of unknowns awaiting him in the coming weeks. This photo is from a precious, holy evening we shared in prayer after he invited me over for tea.

And check out this castle! Ok, I do not know if it is a castle or not, but it is called a castle. If I understand correctly, most of the current buildings were build merely a couple of hundred years ago, on the ruins of a medeival castle, the walls of which can still be seen. It was also used as a farm for a while, before becoming a historical landmark.

This castle is in my village, but I had never visited it until now; it is usually gated and locked. However, I helped to host a concert by two Swiss guests with Alpine shepherd horns, guitars, and yodeling. The concert was fantastic, and the preaching and testimony sharing in between was even better!

We had a good turnout from the town (here are friends and family members of the folks I work with). I am sure many people came because of our personal invitations. For example, I visited a third of the houses in our 700-person town on Saturday morning, inviting each family to the concert. I pray that God's Word as it was preached, and His Son Jesus, as He was revealed, find their way into the hearts of each person there.

This photo from the invitation shows the "star" himself.

So now I need to get going, to hitchhike home before rain or dark. Today had some unexpected blessings, such as a special prayer time with a French friend of mine, a meal with him and his family and a collegue of ours, meeting some newly-arrived American students, and some extra internet time.

Oh, and maybe I have not told you that my life will be changing a bit now. Beginning this week, I will once again be working with the child evangelism team with whom I worked last year. I will work with them part-time for four months in the villages around Sighisoara, while continuing to live in C. and teach French and English to a couple of the children there. Please pray as I enter this week of transition, trusting God to provide every bit of wisdom and resource I may need.

By the way, please pray for J., in whose apartment I am sitting. He has been more than generous with me time and again--I even asked him if he were an angel! I am very thankful for his willingness to let God use him; if you are interested in his blog or newsletter, please email me and let me know. Have a great week!

I bless you in the Name of Jesus!

A Tease of What Is To Come...

Location: J's apartment in Sighisoara, about 9:45am on Sunday, the 5th of September.

This week was fairly calm, but I nonetheless had little time to write. Maybe I will write now before church, or a little later, but until then enjoy these photos and try to guess who the people are and what is going on in each photo!