Monday, September 13, 2010

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!
Posted by at

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?