We travel a lot so naturally we meet a lot of people.
It never fails that we meet someone who has developed some sort of bitterness over the years, particularly among those in the ministry. Actually, it seems like those are some of the bitterest people I know!
Why? Well, the only common denominator that I can put my finger on is this: their focus was/is on people instead of Christ.
I hear things like:
"The ministry is hard. You learn you just can't trust people."
"Just prepare yourself to be very lonely. No one understands what it's like to be in the ministry."
"People will turn their backs on you because they don't understand."
But really is it any surprise when people let us down? Is it any surprise when we find we can't trust those closest to us? Is it really a shock that people don't understand us?
I think not. Actually, I'd be surprised if it were the other way around! In fact, I have no doubt that I've done my fair share of letting people down in my almost 25 years of existence.
So what do we do then? Give up and get bitter?
No, I'd say we just keep "looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." (Hebrews 12:2)
I like what Oswald Chambers says, "I have never met the man I could despair of after discerning what lies in me apart from the grace of God."
I'm thankful for a perfect God. He never fails.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
God's Love Language
It's been interesting as we've traveled around the Southeast raising our support and meeting people from every walk of life. Having been raised in a very conservative church my whole life, it was like culture shock for me when we stepped into our first Southern Baptist Church a couple of years ago. I wasn't accustomed to seeing blue jeans on the Pastor and a whole band on the platform, drums and all. It took me off guard when the Pastor opened his ESV to begin teaching the Word and we didn't sing the traditional hymns that I had heard all my life.
And the truth is, I loved it!
For me, it was like a breath of fresh air. Everyone seemed so at ease and connected. There was a certain passion in the room and an excitement about the Word. I loved the music and for what seemed like the first time I actually felt connected in worship. I felt at home and I was at least 600 miles from mine.
So what did this mean for me?
I have found myself with a lot of conflicting emotions over the last couple of years as I've met so many people that have enhanced my relationship with Christ. I've read books and heard sermons that have changed my worldview, broadened my mind, and opened my eyes to the fact that we serve a big... make that HUGE... God who doesn't fit inside the box that we've tried to fit him in.
In all of our travels I feel like my soul has been awakened, as cheesy as that may sound.
But what were the implications of this? Was the church that I was raised in not doing things right? Did the fact that they were hard-core KJV only, singing hymns from 1930, and it was suit and tie and dresses to church every service mean that they had somehow missed the mark? Or did the fact that I didn't feel connected with that atmosphere somehow imply that my heart was wrong for liking the contemporary worship songs and preferring pants over a skirt?
Fast forward to a month ago as we sit in the middle of the Jungle at an Indigenous church. The Pastor is speaking in two languages as he preaches from the front of a grass-roof hut. The people are all sitting on benches and the floor, though concrete, is covered in dirt. Women are breastfeeding with no regard for who is nearby and chickens and children are running all over the place. The music service is in the tribal language and the song leader and several women in the crowd are dancing.
I won't say this was culture shock for me, because a part of me felt right at home. But it was all new to me. Where I come from, dancing is off-limits and children are seen and not heard. If a woman needs to nurse, there is a special room designated for that and chickens are only seen on our plates after we go out for Sunday lunch.
Was this church getting it wrong too? After all, the pastor wasn't wearing a tie and he preached for an hour and a half straight... didn't he know that lunchtime is at noon? And was that the KJV version of their tribal Bible translation.........
So who was getting this right? Who was really glorifying God? Whose heart was really in the right place??
I think the answer is all of them. God was being and is being glorified in ways that we don't understand and it's all around us all the time.
God's love language is diversity.
He created the Indians in the Jungle who dance while they sing to the Almighty God. He created the 20-year-old who has a talent playing the drums and uses it to glorify his Savior. He created the 80-year-old man who wears his suit and tie in reverence to the creator of the Universe. He created the Pastor who wears jeans and the new mom nursing her infant and the mom who doesn't even own a pair of pants and young woman who hates skirts and the teenager who wears straight-legged jeans and dyes her hair pink and the little Indian who runs around naked and the man who sits in the back row because he's uncomfortable in social situations and the shut-in who faithfully listens over the airways and the music director who raises his hands in praise and the Indian lady who dances her traditional tribal dances and chants her tribal songs and the ex-drug addict who sits in the front row to soak in the Word that changed his life and the young married couple who got tattoos to commemorate the day that their lives were transformed by Christ and the missionary couple who gave up every earthly possession to follow Him and the business man who uses his wealth to further the Gospel and the stay at home mom who raises godly children and the Indian who fishes for his food every day and wears monkey teeth around his wrist and the elderly lady who weeps as she sings the hymns that have carried her through so many trials and.............................................
And the list goes on. And who are we to say that we have found God's true love language? Who are we to say that this worship music is right and this kind is wrong? And who are we to say that you have to dress this way or that?
Who are we?
I'm thankful to serve a God who not only loves diversity, He created it.
May we not be so closed-minded to think otherwise.
"...For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7
"...and with your blood you purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation. You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God, and they will reign on the earth." Revelation 5:9-10
And the truth is, I loved it!
For me, it was like a breath of fresh air. Everyone seemed so at ease and connected. There was a certain passion in the room and an excitement about the Word. I loved the music and for what seemed like the first time I actually felt connected in worship. I felt at home and I was at least 600 miles from mine.
So what did this mean for me?
I have found myself with a lot of conflicting emotions over the last couple of years as I've met so many people that have enhanced my relationship with Christ. I've read books and heard sermons that have changed my worldview, broadened my mind, and opened my eyes to the fact that we serve a big... make that HUGE... God who doesn't fit inside the box that we've tried to fit him in.
In all of our travels I feel like my soul has been awakened, as cheesy as that may sound.
But what were the implications of this? Was the church that I was raised in not doing things right? Did the fact that they were hard-core KJV only, singing hymns from 1930, and it was suit and tie and dresses to church every service mean that they had somehow missed the mark? Or did the fact that I didn't feel connected with that atmosphere somehow imply that my heart was wrong for liking the contemporary worship songs and preferring pants over a skirt?
Fast forward to a month ago as we sit in the middle of the Jungle at an Indigenous church. The Pastor is speaking in two languages as he preaches from the front of a grass-roof hut. The people are all sitting on benches and the floor, though concrete, is covered in dirt. Women are breastfeeding with no regard for who is nearby and chickens and children are running all over the place. The music service is in the tribal language and the song leader and several women in the crowd are dancing.
I won't say this was culture shock for me, because a part of me felt right at home. But it was all new to me. Where I come from, dancing is off-limits and children are seen and not heard. If a woman needs to nurse, there is a special room designated for that and chickens are only seen on our plates after we go out for Sunday lunch.
Was this church getting it wrong too? After all, the pastor wasn't wearing a tie and he preached for an hour and a half straight... didn't he know that lunchtime is at noon? And was that the KJV version of their tribal Bible translation.........
So who was getting this right? Who was really glorifying God? Whose heart was really in the right place??
I think the answer is all of them. God was being and is being glorified in ways that we don't understand and it's all around us all the time.
God's love language is diversity.
He created the Indians in the Jungle who dance while they sing to the Almighty God. He created the 20-year-old who has a talent playing the drums and uses it to glorify his Savior. He created the 80-year-old man who wears his suit and tie in reverence to the creator of the Universe. He created the Pastor who wears jeans and the new mom nursing her infant and the mom who doesn't even own a pair of pants and young woman who hates skirts and the teenager who wears straight-legged jeans and dyes her hair pink and the little Indian who runs around naked and the man who sits in the back row because he's uncomfortable in social situations and the shut-in who faithfully listens over the airways and the music director who raises his hands in praise and the Indian lady who dances her traditional tribal dances and chants her tribal songs and the ex-drug addict who sits in the front row to soak in the Word that changed his life and the young married couple who got tattoos to commemorate the day that their lives were transformed by Christ and the missionary couple who gave up every earthly possession to follow Him and the business man who uses his wealth to further the Gospel and the stay at home mom who raises godly children and the Indian who fishes for his food every day and wears monkey teeth around his wrist and the elderly lady who weeps as she sings the hymns that have carried her through so many trials and.............................................
And the list goes on. And who are we to say that we have found God's true love language? Who are we to say that this worship music is right and this kind is wrong? And who are we to say that you have to dress this way or that?
Who are we?
I'm thankful to serve a God who not only loves diversity, He created it.
May we not be so closed-minded to think otherwise.
"...For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7
"...and with your blood you purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation. You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God, and they will reign on the earth." Revelation 5:9-10
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Thankful Thursday: My Personal God
It's Thursday. Again. I don't like Thursdays very much so I continue with my Thankful Thursday blog posts to help me like them a little more.
Today's reason to be grateful: we have a personal God.
I was thinking this morning on my way to work, after stopping by Dunkin' Donuts for a .99 cent coffee (yay coupons!), how good it is to serve a God who didn't just make me, toss me out into the world, and say, "Have fun and good luck!"
No, He cares about me enough to convict me, encourage me, challenge me, and change me. That's sort of a big deal.I mean, we are talking about the same God who created the UNIVERSE and everything in it.
But what's bigger? He sent His Son to DIE. On a cross. For me. And you. Sometimes I forget the significance of that. I've heard it all my life so maybe I take it for granted.
But that? That's something to be thankful for.
"For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities..." Hebrews 4:15
Today's reason to be grateful: we have a personal God.
I was thinking this morning on my way to work, after stopping by Dunkin' Donuts for a .99 cent coffee (yay coupons!), how good it is to serve a God who didn't just make me, toss me out into the world, and say, "Have fun and good luck!"
No, He cares about me enough to convict me, encourage me, challenge me, and change me. That's sort of a big deal.I mean, we are talking about the same God who created the UNIVERSE and everything in it.
But what's bigger? He sent His Son to DIE. On a cross. For me. And you. Sometimes I forget the significance of that. I've heard it all my life so maybe I take it for granted.
But that? That's something to be thankful for.
"For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities..." Hebrews 4:15
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thankful Thanksgiving Thursday
Works out well that Thankful Thursday is on a Thursday and so is Thanksgiving :)
Today I'm thankful for God's grace. My life apart from it would be miserable and hopeless. We always spend Thanksgiving with both of our families. We spend the first part of the day and eat lunch with Richard's family and then eat dinner and spend the evening with mine.
As with anything, there are seasons and life is no exception.
Earlier this month, Richard's grandfather passed away unexpectedly and ended a season in their lives. It was tough for the entire family. Thanksgiving was always his favorite holiday and I can remember every year for at least the last four hearing his story about how broccoli casserole sent him to the hospital one year. It always brought a mixture of smiles and sighs as each person at the table could probably tell the story just as well as he did.
But we didn't hear it this year. I know for me I thought of it as I was eating my broccoli casserole and couldn't help but smile and thank God for His grace. Without it, we wouldn't have the peace of knowing we would one day see Papaw in Heaven... and maybe we could all eat some more broccoli casserole and hear the story again.
About three years ago ended a wonderful season for my extended family also. Every year since I can remember we would all get together, all my aunts, uncles, cousins, and my grandmother, and spend the Thanksgiving weekend laughing, eating, playing games, and just being together. With close to thirty people, it was always a lot of fun. It was the highlight of the year every year!
Unfortunately, as things sometimes go, a family dispute surfaced that Thanksgiving weekend of 2007. I remember telling my mom that very day that our family would never be the same. And it hasn't been.
But this year I was thankful for God's grace. I was thankful that even though we as humans sometimes don't find it within ourselves to ask for forgiveness or to forgive, God does. Regardless of how many times we hurt Him, He not only forgives, He forgets. And I was thankful for the memories and that some of my family was able to get together and just enjoy each others company. There were only nine of us this time, but we laughed and ate and it was a good time.
So I'm thankful for God's perfect grace. His grace that gives us reason to hope and laugh. His grace that forgives and brings life.
His grace that is sufficient through all the seasons of our lives.
God is good.
Papaw, Elliott, Richard, and Bruce
Four Generations
Father's Day 2010
Med, Justin, Jason, Richard, Elliott, Me, Julie, Shel, and Marlene
My goofy family
Thanksgiving Day 2010
Today I'm thankful for God's grace. My life apart from it would be miserable and hopeless. We always spend Thanksgiving with both of our families. We spend the first part of the day and eat lunch with Richard's family and then eat dinner and spend the evening with mine.
As with anything, there are seasons and life is no exception.
Earlier this month, Richard's grandfather passed away unexpectedly and ended a season in their lives. It was tough for the entire family. Thanksgiving was always his favorite holiday and I can remember every year for at least the last four hearing his story about how broccoli casserole sent him to the hospital one year. It always brought a mixture of smiles and sighs as each person at the table could probably tell the story just as well as he did.
But we didn't hear it this year. I know for me I thought of it as I was eating my broccoli casserole and couldn't help but smile and thank God for His grace. Without it, we wouldn't have the peace of knowing we would one day see Papaw in Heaven... and maybe we could all eat some more broccoli casserole and hear the story again.
About three years ago ended a wonderful season for my extended family also. Every year since I can remember we would all get together, all my aunts, uncles, cousins, and my grandmother, and spend the Thanksgiving weekend laughing, eating, playing games, and just being together. With close to thirty people, it was always a lot of fun. It was the highlight of the year every year!
Unfortunately, as things sometimes go, a family dispute surfaced that Thanksgiving weekend of 2007. I remember telling my mom that very day that our family would never be the same. And it hasn't been.
But this year I was thankful for God's grace. I was thankful that even though we as humans sometimes don't find it within ourselves to ask for forgiveness or to forgive, God does. Regardless of how many times we hurt Him, He not only forgives, He forgets. And I was thankful for the memories and that some of my family was able to get together and just enjoy each others company. There were only nine of us this time, but we laughed and ate and it was a good time.
So I'm thankful for God's perfect grace. His grace that gives us reason to hope and laugh. His grace that forgives and brings life.
His grace that is sufficient through all the seasons of our lives.
God is good.
Papaw, Elliott, Richard, and Bruce
Four Generations
Father's Day 2010
Med, Justin, Jason, Richard, Elliott, Me, Julie, Shel, and Marlene
My goofy family
Thanksgiving Day 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Thankful Thursday: My Little Brother
Ok, it's lame. I know. You don't have to tell me.
But for some reason, I'm just not a big fan of Thursday. I know a lot of people loathe Mondays for the obvious reasons. But me? If I could cut one day out of the week, it would most definitely be Thursday.
My main issue with it is that it is just in the way of Friday. If it weren't for Thursday, Friday would be sooner, you know?
Anyway, I was thinking today that I should make an effort to think of specific things I'm thankful for on Thursday... hence the cheesy, cliche "Thankful Thursday".
So today I am thankful for my little brother. He's just a really good kid. He's a Senior in high school and was nominated for the "National Merit Scholarship". I don't really know anything about that except that it's something really good that you want to be nominated for.
Anyway, I'm thankful that he has an open heart and mind when it comes to his future. He has a gift with chemistry and wants to somehow use that to spread the Gospel. He doesn't know how it's going to happen, but he knows that God has given him skills to use for His glory and that's what he intends to do. I'm excited to see what God has in store for him.
I'm proud of him and I'm thankful for him. He and I used to fight a lot when we were younger... mainly because I was the big sister and he was the obnoxious little brother... but now we kind of like each other I guess. :)
But for some reason, I'm just not a big fan of Thursday. I know a lot of people loathe Mondays for the obvious reasons. But me? If I could cut one day out of the week, it would most definitely be Thursday.
My main issue with it is that it is just in the way of Friday. If it weren't for Thursday, Friday would be sooner, you know?
Anyway, I was thinking today that I should make an effort to think of specific things I'm thankful for on Thursday... hence the cheesy, cliche "Thankful Thursday".
So today I am thankful for my little brother. He's just a really good kid. He's a Senior in high school and was nominated for the "National Merit Scholarship". I don't really know anything about that except that it's something really good that you want to be nominated for.
Anyway, I'm thankful that he has an open heart and mind when it comes to his future. He has a gift with chemistry and wants to somehow use that to spread the Gospel. He doesn't know how it's going to happen, but he knows that God has given him skills to use for His glory and that's what he intends to do. I'm excited to see what God has in store for him.
I'm proud of him and I'm thankful for him. He and I used to fight a lot when we were younger... mainly because I was the big sister and he was the obnoxious little brother... but now we kind of like each other I guess. :)
Jason and me at Six Flags, October 2007
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Confessions of a Missionary
The CallingThis is what I hear all the time: "Surrendering to the call to missions is the hardest part."
My response? "Wrong."
The hardest part is no doubt: The WaitingWe had no problem surrendering to go to a foreign country somewhere to spend the rest of our lives, however long that may be, serving God and reaching the unreached. The hardest part has been the waiting period that we're in, anticipating the foreign field.
Most people don't understand missions. That's a fact. It's foreign to them and is generally thought of in the form of slide shows of poverty stricken Africans shown once a year during "Mission Week" at their church. For that reason, I've encountered several facts on our journey to the field that have taught me lessons and challenged me.
Here they are:
1. Most people don't care.This is a lesson you learn very quickly as a missionary... and it's a pretty painful one at first. Imagine pouring out your heart, having a passion for the calling that God has given you: a passion to reach the lost and dying. The ones that you have seen with your own eyes. You know the need, you know the faces, you know their destination if they don't hear of Christ... and you get 3 minutes to share it. You do the best you can to convey the message and desperate need in that unreasonably short time.
You set up a booth with pictures and facts and artifacts. Few people stop by and even fewer ask questions. Most people don't care.
2. Most people don't respond.One of the things they teach you before you start ministry is to keep people informed about your ministry. So, we send out e-mails, update our blog, send letters and cards all in an effort to remind people regularly of what God is doing in the Amazon and the great need that there is in the area.
It's rare to get a reply. I've often wondered to myself, "Are these e-mails going to a junk folder?" Most people don't respond.
3. Most churches are too consumed with themselves.
When we first got started on our journey to the field, we sent out over 100 packets to churches in the area and called and/or e-mailed each missions pastor. We got three replies. Three. And those were all, "We will hold your folder for future reference." That's church language for, "No thanks."
Obviously we don't expect to have every church let us share our vision. But to send packets to over 100 churches and not to have a single opportunity to share the need of thousands of unreached people who are dying and going to hell... hm. Without getting on too much of a rant, it's hard to be told that a church can't afford to take on more missionaries when they just built a multi-million dollar building with toilets that automatically flush. Just sayin'.
I've often thought of writing these churches and saying, "In the future, please just slap me in the face instead of telling me that you can't afford missions. That will be less painful. Thank you!"
4. A lot of people don't do what they say they will do.
If every person and church who has told us that they would support us actually supported us, we would be at about 75% of our support (we are at 50% right now).
We've had pastors tell us to our face that they will give us the opportunity to share with their church if we just tell them the date. Fast forward one week later when we try to tell them the date that works for us: no replies to our e-mails and no call backs to our messages. Hm.
The same could be said for individuals. "Life just gets in the way." A lot of people don't do what they say they will do.
Now, before you think I'm being judgmental. Let me tell you the lesson these four points have taught me.
1. Most of the time, I don't care.
How many times in my life has God tried to tell me something. He's given me His Word and the beautiful world around me. He's blessed me beyond all reason and poured His Son's blood out for me. He loves me desperately and wants me to know Him and talk to Him, to ask Him questions and hear from Him.
Sometimes I'll read His Word and pray. Most of the time, I don't care.
2. Most of the time, I don't respond.
I have probably four Bibles, not including the two on my ipod. Four Bibles. Four. There are places in the world where people cling to one PAGE of the Bible. There are other places where people rely on what they have memorized of the Scriptures. If that were the case for me, I'd be in big trouble. God speaks through His Word, but most of the time, I don't respond. I give Him a few minutes a day and ask Him to bless me for it. Most of the time, I don't respond.
3. Most of the time, I'm too consumed with myself.
I try to think back on my life and all the times that I've been too busy for God... then I get overwhelmed because there have been so many times! I tell God I can't do more for Him because I don't have the time or the resources. But yesterday, I made sure I got on Facebook and I bought a $4 drink from Starbucks.
I wonder if God would rather me slap Him in the face than tell Him I can't do more for Him...
Most of the time, I'm too consumed with myself.
4. A lot of times I don't do what I say I'm going to do.
I'm glad that God is faithful to forgive us when we ask because there have been countless times that I have not done what I told God I would do. If I did all the things that God has told me to do, I can only imagine what He could have done through me and who He could have reached if I had kept my promise.
"Life just gets in the way." A lot of times, I don't do what I say I'm going to do.
What's the lesson I've learned from this journey (or at least one of them)? I'm just like everyone else. And I'm really, really thankful that God is merciful and gracious to me.
So, anytime I get overwhelmed or frustrated with people and how they let me down, I just remind myself how often I let God down and yet somehow He forgives me and loves me just the same. That cures my ill-will pretty quickly.
"Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when there is a log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye."- Jesus Christ
My response? "Wrong."
The hardest part is no doubt: The WaitingWe had no problem surrendering to go to a foreign country somewhere to spend the rest of our lives, however long that may be, serving God and reaching the unreached. The hardest part has been the waiting period that we're in, anticipating the foreign field.
Most people don't understand missions. That's a fact. It's foreign to them and is generally thought of in the form of slide shows of poverty stricken Africans shown once a year during "Mission Week" at their church. For that reason, I've encountered several facts on our journey to the field that have taught me lessons and challenged me.
Here they are:
1. Most people don't care.This is a lesson you learn very quickly as a missionary... and it's a pretty painful one at first. Imagine pouring out your heart, having a passion for the calling that God has given you: a passion to reach the lost and dying. The ones that you have seen with your own eyes. You know the need, you know the faces, you know their destination if they don't hear of Christ... and you get 3 minutes to share it. You do the best you can to convey the message and desperate need in that unreasonably short time.
You set up a booth with pictures and facts and artifacts. Few people stop by and even fewer ask questions. Most people don't care.
2. Most people don't respond.One of the things they teach you before you start ministry is to keep people informed about your ministry. So, we send out e-mails, update our blog, send letters and cards all in an effort to remind people regularly of what God is doing in the Amazon and the great need that there is in the area.
It's rare to get a reply. I've often wondered to myself, "Are these e-mails going to a junk folder?" Most people don't respond.
3. Most churches are too consumed with themselves.
When we first got started on our journey to the field, we sent out over 100 packets to churches in the area and called and/or e-mailed each missions pastor. We got three replies. Three. And those were all, "We will hold your folder for future reference." That's church language for, "No thanks."
Obviously we don't expect to have every church let us share our vision. But to send packets to over 100 churches and not to have a single opportunity to share the need of thousands of unreached people who are dying and going to hell... hm. Without getting on too much of a rant, it's hard to be told that a church can't afford to take on more missionaries when they just built a multi-million dollar building with toilets that automatically flush. Just sayin'.
I've often thought of writing these churches and saying, "In the future, please just slap me in the face instead of telling me that you can't afford missions. That will be less painful. Thank you!"
4. A lot of people don't do what they say they will do.
If every person and church who has told us that they would support us actually supported us, we would be at about 75% of our support (we are at 50% right now).
We've had pastors tell us to our face that they will give us the opportunity to share with their church if we just tell them the date. Fast forward one week later when we try to tell them the date that works for us: no replies to our e-mails and no call backs to our messages. Hm.
The same could be said for individuals. "Life just gets in the way." A lot of people don't do what they say they will do.
Now, before you think I'm being judgmental. Let me tell you the lesson these four points have taught me.
1. Most of the time, I don't care.
How many times in my life has God tried to tell me something. He's given me His Word and the beautiful world around me. He's blessed me beyond all reason and poured His Son's blood out for me. He loves me desperately and wants me to know Him and talk to Him, to ask Him questions and hear from Him.
Sometimes I'll read His Word and pray. Most of the time, I don't care.
2. Most of the time, I don't respond.
I have probably four Bibles, not including the two on my ipod. Four Bibles. Four. There are places in the world where people cling to one PAGE of the Bible. There are other places where people rely on what they have memorized of the Scriptures. If that were the case for me, I'd be in big trouble. God speaks through His Word, but most of the time, I don't respond. I give Him a few minutes a day and ask Him to bless me for it. Most of the time, I don't respond.
3. Most of the time, I'm too consumed with myself.
I try to think back on my life and all the times that I've been too busy for God... then I get overwhelmed because there have been so many times! I tell God I can't do more for Him because I don't have the time or the resources. But yesterday, I made sure I got on Facebook and I bought a $4 drink from Starbucks.
I wonder if God would rather me slap Him in the face than tell Him I can't do more for Him...
Most of the time, I'm too consumed with myself.
4. A lot of times I don't do what I say I'm going to do.
I'm glad that God is faithful to forgive us when we ask because there have been countless times that I have not done what I told God I would do. If I did all the things that God has told me to do, I can only imagine what He could have done through me and who He could have reached if I had kept my promise.
"Life just gets in the way." A lot of times, I don't do what I say I'm going to do.
What's the lesson I've learned from this journey (or at least one of them)? I'm just like everyone else. And I'm really, really thankful that God is merciful and gracious to me.
So, anytime I get overwhelmed or frustrated with people and how they let me down, I just remind myself how often I let God down and yet somehow He forgives me and loves me just the same. That cures my ill-will pretty quickly.
"Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when there is a log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye."- Jesus Christ
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Dying for Living Water
I opened the refrigerator a couple of days ago to get some water. I pulled out the pitcher and there was less than an ounce sloshing around in the bottom. I caught myself as I started to say, "Uh! Who didn't fill up the pitcher??"
Really? Who didn't fill up the water pitcher that purifies the clean water that flows from the tap every time I turn the handle?
I was surprised at myself considering I had just spent 10 days in a place where clean water is scarce and water-borne illness is rampant. A place where people not only drink dirty water, they die from it.
My mind went immediately back to the Sunday morning we walked up into the tribe to receive word that the night before an infant had died.
At first the details were unclear. We knew that the child had been dehydrated but that was about it. Then we found out that our friend and photojournalist Rachel had been invited to attend the funeral. To our knowledge, she is the first "outsider" who has been asked to attend this intimate ceremony. Her experience gave us a unique look into the culture and a shocking reality of their need for the Truth.
Rachel was able to gather some details about the child's days before his death.
This particular culture is very spiritual and they believe there are good spirits and evil spirits. When this child become ill, they believed that an evil spirit had come upon him. He had diarrhea and desperately needed water for hydration. The parents chose not to give him water, believing that was a source of evil spirits.
Where would this thinking come from? Why would they associate something so vital with evil?
Keep in mind we are talking about a place where the only source of water is a river that is filled with bacteria and a people with no way to purify it. They drink it because it's all they have and it's all they know. Obviously drinking dirty water leads to illness. So this tribe is accustomed to seeing people become ill and die from drinking water. Unable to make the connection between hygiene and illness, myth and circumstance have led them to the belief that evil spirits live in the water and come upon a person at their own discretion.
So was this case with this child.
We were told last year that the leading cause of death in this region is dehydration caused by diarrhea. That tells us that this is no isolated case. It also reiterates the importance of what we had come to do: give clean water and through that share the Living Water.
(SIDE NOTE: Some argue against meeting physical needs before spirtual. Those people have never seen first hand tragedies like this and they've never read the New Testament. A major part of Jesus Christ's ministry was healing the sick. Besides, it's really hard to share the Gospel with someon who just died of dehydration.)
When this happened, the team had not yet begun construction of the water purification system, but it gave even greater motivation for them to get in and get the job done. The system was installed in the home of a missionary by the name of Jhon. Jhon is one of the godliest, most humble people I have ever met. Time wouldn't permit me to share of his giving heart and servant spirit but I'll suffice it to say that God is using this man in a great way to reach this village with the true Living Water.
The reason it was installed in his home rather than a central location in the village is two fold:
1) Because the people don't recognize or understand the value of clean water, it's unlikely that they would care for and maintain the water system adequately at least until they are taught the importance.
2) The people are very relational, meaning they highly value personal communication and family. By installing the filtration system at the home of the missionary, the people will have to come through Jhon to get clean water and therefore will need to communicate with and build a relationship with him. THIS IS KEY to reaching this people group!
Below are some photos from the funeral taken by Rachel. As you look at them, of course thank God for His blessings, but also ask Him what you can do and what sacrifices you can make to bring truth to these tribes.
A father watches his older brother build a coffin for the child who died of dehydration during the night.
Family members surround a baby boy during the wake.
A baby lay surrounded by candles at a wake. He died of dehydration.
Iranda mourns the loss of her child before walking to the cemetery.
Family members carry the coffin to the cemetery on top of a mountain.
Missionary Jhon scoops dirt out of the grave with a plate.
A father says good-bye to his baby son. It is very uncommon for men in this tribe to show such emotion.
Iranda and her husband weep before burying their oldest child.
The father and his brother lower the casket into the grave.
Family surround the grave and light candles before saying a final goodbye.
A bowl of fish and farinha sit on a grave of the recently buried child. The families leave things associated with their loved one's life with the belief that they may need them in the afterlife.
Really? Who didn't fill up the water pitcher that purifies the clean water that flows from the tap every time I turn the handle?
I was surprised at myself considering I had just spent 10 days in a place where clean water is scarce and water-borne illness is rampant. A place where people not only drink dirty water, they die from it.
My mind went immediately back to the Sunday morning we walked up into the tribe to receive word that the night before an infant had died.
At first the details were unclear. We knew that the child had been dehydrated but that was about it. Then we found out that our friend and photojournalist Rachel had been invited to attend the funeral. To our knowledge, she is the first "outsider" who has been asked to attend this intimate ceremony. Her experience gave us a unique look into the culture and a shocking reality of their need for the Truth.
Rachel was able to gather some details about the child's days before his death.
This particular culture is very spiritual and they believe there are good spirits and evil spirits. When this child become ill, they believed that an evil spirit had come upon him. He had diarrhea and desperately needed water for hydration. The parents chose not to give him water, believing that was a source of evil spirits.
Where would this thinking come from? Why would they associate something so vital with evil?
Keep in mind we are talking about a place where the only source of water is a river that is filled with bacteria and a people with no way to purify it. They drink it because it's all they have and it's all they know. Obviously drinking dirty water leads to illness. So this tribe is accustomed to seeing people become ill and die from drinking water. Unable to make the connection between hygiene and illness, myth and circumstance have led them to the belief that evil spirits live in the water and come upon a person at their own discretion.
So was this case with this child.
We were told last year that the leading cause of death in this region is dehydration caused by diarrhea. That tells us that this is no isolated case. It also reiterates the importance of what we had come to do: give clean water and through that share the Living Water.
(SIDE NOTE: Some argue against meeting physical needs before spirtual. Those people have never seen first hand tragedies like this and they've never read the New Testament. A major part of Jesus Christ's ministry was healing the sick. Besides, it's really hard to share the Gospel with someon who just died of dehydration.)
When this happened, the team had not yet begun construction of the water purification system, but it gave even greater motivation for them to get in and get the job done. The system was installed in the home of a missionary by the name of Jhon. Jhon is one of the godliest, most humble people I have ever met. Time wouldn't permit me to share of his giving heart and servant spirit but I'll suffice it to say that God is using this man in a great way to reach this village with the true Living Water.
The reason it was installed in his home rather than a central location in the village is two fold:
1) Because the people don't recognize or understand the value of clean water, it's unlikely that they would care for and maintain the water system adequately at least until they are taught the importance.
2) The people are very relational, meaning they highly value personal communication and family. By installing the filtration system at the home of the missionary, the people will have to come through Jhon to get clean water and therefore will need to communicate with and build a relationship with him. THIS IS KEY to reaching this people group!
Below are some photos from the funeral taken by Rachel. As you look at them, of course thank God for His blessings, but also ask Him what you can do and what sacrifices you can make to bring truth to these tribes.
A father watches his older brother build a coffin for the child who died of dehydration during the night.
Family members surround a baby boy during the wake.
A baby lay surrounded by candles at a wake. He died of dehydration.
Iranda mourns the loss of her child before walking to the cemetery.
Family members carry the coffin to the cemetery on top of a mountain.
Missionary Jhon scoops dirt out of the grave with a plate.
A father says good-bye to his baby son. It is very uncommon for men in this tribe to show such emotion.
Iranda and her husband weep before burying their oldest child.
The father and his brother lower the casket into the grave.
Family surround the grave and light candles before saying a final goodbye.
A bowl of fish and farinha sit on a grave of the recently buried child. The families leave things associated with their loved one's life with the belief that they may need them in the afterlife.
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