Another Great Missions Conference

We were just in a local church’s missions conference where the theme was “The Call to Arms”.  Being highlighted for this event were missionaries who were going out to pastor or plant churches near US military bases around the world.  We were encouraged to tag along and put up a table so that the people in the church could get to know us a little better.  We were not one of the speakers, though Charlie was able to share our ministry with one of the adult Sunday School classes this morning.

While we were not the focus of the conference, it was great to be part of an event where the church obviously rose to the challenge of getting missionaries out to the world.  These are some highlights from the conference. 

Every night the missionary families were fed supper.  After the meeting, the whole church was invited to a time of refreshments in the fellowship hall where the missionaries’ displays were set up.  Also every night there was a missionary “store”.  The three main families were invited to take part in taking things from the store on the first two nights.  After that, the other missionaries who were there were encouraged to take part.  Every night new objects appeared so that even though we only went into the store on two nights, we still walked away with a lot of usable items – things like soap, laundry detergent, dryer sheets, work gloves, water bottles, cleaning supplies, toothpaste, shampoo, and other things.

Someone did a great job decorating.  With a theme of “The Call to Arms” they had three displays in front and one in the back that highlighted the need to obey Our Commander in Chief and take the gospel around the world.  These pictures will give you an idea.

Two men from BIMI preached, alternating each night.  They did a very good job of encouraging people to get behind the missionary endeavors of the church.
Tonight they took up their “Faith Promise” offering.  From this church of about 130 people, $126,000 was promised by the people for the next year.  What a great show of faith by the people of that church!

It is exciting to be in any missions’ conference, but it’s especially encouraging when we see the church very excited about the way they are personally helping the cause of missions throughout the world. 

On the way to the car, I said to Charlie,”I would like to be in more missions conferences.”  He replied, “I’d like to have the job of speaking in missions conferences all the time (like the BIMI speakers at this conference).  That would be like giving candy to a kid.”

We came away blessed and so thankful to see people excited about spreading the gospel around the world.

"No man that warreth entangleth himself with the affairs of this life . . ."

A Home Base

Last month we posted a blog that had some fun with this question of why we feel we need a house.  Lest anyone think we’re not taking their questions seriously, we thought we should post a more serious answer to the question.

We need a home base.  That home base could be on wheels, but we came to the conclusion that a motorhome would cost us more in the long run and would have to be replaced more quickly so a house made more sense.  Even though we will be gone a lot, we need a place to regroup and get ready for the next trip.

Today's "office" will need to disappear before the next meal.

We need a place to set up an office.  People have been very gracious along the way to let us use their dining room table or their guest room so that we have a place to work when we are in their homes.  However, all of our books and files are in storage boxes.  We do not feel it’s wise to go buy that book we feel we need when we know it’s somewhere in a box in Maine.  That means every time we go to write up a lesson to teach in a Bible institute or church, we’re starting over from scratch and we don’t have any of our reference books to help us.  It also means that when we are in the middle of a project, we don’t have a convenient place to keep it.  Every lesson and sermon outline needs to stay with us.  The longer we’re in this ministry, the thicker our current working files are becoming.

We need a quiet place to work.  During these years of being “homeless,” we have used libraries, restaurants, picnic tables, living room couches, beds, the car, and dining room tables as our “office.”  That means that usually there are lots of distractions around us.  Sometimes those distractions can be easily ignored and we keep working.  At other times, those distractions end up involving us, breaking the flow of thought and making it harder to get back to work when the distraction is over.  I have been asked to write curriculum for IPM, but I’ve found it very difficult to do it with the lifestyle we currently have. 

We need a place to keep things.  Over the last two years, we have often found ourselves looking for things we thought we had brought along with us.  When we can’t find it, we then ask ourselves where it might be.  Did we leave it in Georgia at my parents or in Maine at the storage locker?  Or did we lose it and we need to buy a new one?  It will be nice to have a place to keep things where we can go to the shelf or the closet where it’s supposed to be and actually find it. 

Everyone we know who has our type of ministry has a home base.  While there may be a better way of doing this ministry, we have not yet run into a better model than one that involves having a home base.  One day that home base may be abroad, but air travel originating in other countries is generally more expensive than travel originating here.  So for right now it made sense to us to make a house in the USA our home base.

Any questions we haven't answered?  Feel free to post your comments below, and we'll respond to them.

What If?

Thoughts on giving.

I sat thoughtfully after the service and considered my own giving.  I thought I was doing well since I was giving more than the 10% that was expected in my circles.  Yet today the preacher had shifted my thinking.  It wasn’t that 10% belonged to the Lord and the rest belonged to me, but it ALL belonged to Him.  I was only the caretaker, the investor of His funds.  Even if He was being generous with the “salary” I received for taking care of His investments, was I spending more on myself than He would expect?

That experience took place a long time ago.  Since that time, I have tried to be sure that the money I spent from my salary (in whatever job I had at the time) was necessary.  Just because I had the money was not a reason to spend it.  After all, God might have a better use for it.  I have grown in my giving to a larger percentage than I once thought possible.  But still, I still need to check my habits and make sure that I have not fallen into the worldly mindset that says this money is ours.

One Sunday night I was so pleased to see several children come to the special offering for us with dollar bills in their hands.  It pleased me in so many ways.  I am pleased that their parents are teaching them to give.  I am pleased that they considered us worthy to take their gifts and use them well.  I am pleased that God is teaching them to invest in eternal things.

So once again I began to think.  What if? 

• What if some of us took the view of LeTourneau who decided he would live on only what was necessary?  He kept extending his giving rather than his expenses.  The Lord blessed him and by the time he died, his giving had increased from 10% to 90%.
• What if every adult in the church decided to increase their monthly giving to missions by $5.00 and every child by $1.00?  In some churches, that could mean that several missionaries could be added and current missionaries receive a raise.
• What if we asked for money to be given to missions instead of exchanging Christmas presents?  Did you know that most missionaries see a reduction in income in December because of increased expenses?  Wouldn’t it be nice if they saw an increase instead?
• What if we taught our children to keep their wardrobes down to what they need by setting an example for them ourselves?
• What if we asked the question every time we bought something, “Do I need this more than the Lord needs me to send the money to one of His projects?”
• What if every time we said “no” to that specialty coffee or meal out, we took the money it would have cost us and gave it to the Lord?

In the past, I have heard some creative examples of coming up with more money.  One woman decided to reduce her visits to the beauty salon so she could give that money to missions.  A family trying to make ends meet planted an extra large garden and took an additional row of their garden to give to the Lord. 

I could add more examples and ask more what ifs.  But the real question is, Does my checkbook look like Jesus owns it and I’m just the treasurer?  Or does it look like it’s mine and Jesus gets what I decide?

Why do we need a house?

We plan to spend at least five months abroad next year.  In addition, we will be making multiple trips throughout the US to raise support and represent the mission.  That means it’s likely we will only spend about three to four months at “Home”.  So the question has been asked, “Why do you need a house?”  So here are a few of answers which you might find enlightening.

Milk frother

With the money we’ve spent at McDonalds, Tim Hortons, and other restaurants in order to use their “free” wi-fi, we could have already paid our entire mortgage. 

When we wanted to buy a $2.49 milk frother from Ikea to make specialty coffees from time to time, we couldn’t figure out where the right place was for it in the car.  And, we wouldn’t have been able to make coffee in our car anyway, so we decided to pass it up for now. 

We need to keep an entire address book just to keep track of our return addresses.

Our arms are just not long enough to reach up to the storage locker in Maine to get a book that we need for study.

Sitting on one of our chairs in the storage locker just does not feel like home. 

We’d love to be hospitable to missionaries, friends, and relatives, but how do you invite people over to your car for dinner or to stay the night?

Right now when people ask us where we live, we say “our car”.  If they ask where we are from, we still usually say, “Our car.”  It has been tremendously economical for us to live out of our car, but we’d like to be able to have a real answer to that question soon.

Letters From Abroad

I love reading the letters from our mission's international missionaries.  (By international, I mean that they are not from the US.)  I love the dedication of these men and women.  Here are a couple quotes from their recent letters. 

“We pray and are planning to start building a mission school in November, using bamboo, wood, and with a tin roof (cost $980). In the beginning, simple furniture such as table, bench, desks, chairs, and black board will be needed (cost $450). For four teachers’ salaries $400 is needed per month.”  An Indian missionary

Regarding their Bible institute:  "Like every year, we did have to deny many who applied, because of limitations in space and finances, but we do thank God for blessing us with 210 students this year who were willing to face the challenges and sacrifices of leaving families and ministries behind, all for the furtherance of the gospel. We would like to ask you to pray for a few of our students who had to go home for family emergencies. One student received the heartbreaking news that his little boy passed away while he was at SALEM." – One of our Haitian missionaries

That same missionary wrote about their elementary school:  “Lord willing, school will be back in session before the end of the year. Exactly when, we cannot say. We do not have the luxury of a stable government that announces the dates of the education calendar each year. It usually depends on the political climate, the economic situation of the country, and so on. Hopefully we will get the go ahead to welcome our students back on campus within the next few months.”

“Brethren, I kindly ask you to pray for a book I want to reprint. I have added six chapters to my book “I escaped...from Satan’s gallery.” The book’s idea is to show a gallery full of windows, each of them representing a religion in which this astute enemy tries to entertain and deceive man. It was amazing how this book blessed many homes. At the time that I printed this book, I had a car and sold it to pay for the expenses.”  An Argentine missionary.

"We had the opportunity to travel to {a 10/40 window country} for a week on a mission trip. I taught “Introduction to Old Testament” (part one) for five consecutive days to four of our online students. I also preached at two home churches.  (Christians there are not allowed to meet publicly.)" - A national missionaries in a sensitive location.

It stirs my heart to read of the work God is doing all over the world through the lives of our co-workers.  Some of them have suffered great persecution, yet they continue on.  If you would like to support one of these amazing missionary couples with your prayers, please let us know.  They are well worth your consideration.

In Praise of My Household Servants

Sometimes as I fall asleep at night, I hear the maids still at work, their low humming or rhythmic beating continuing long after I’ve gotten in bed.

What?  Maids, you say?  You mean, you have maids?

Why yes, don’t you?

I have a bunch of them, so many in fact, that I don’t always remember their names.  Let’s see if I can remember them all now.  Those of you who know me will know which ones I’ve overlooked.
There’s the maid that hauls the water and heats it up for our baths.  We normally call her Faucet.  She’s very reliable, and she doesn’t even grumble when we ask her for water in the middle of the night to flush the commode.

There are two maids, Washer and Dryer, that share the work of doing the laundry.  They are fast.  I throw the laundry at them, and in a very short time they have it back to me.  Because they are so fast, they don’t work every day.  They are also the ones that often like to work at night after I’ve gone to bed.  I don’t mind if Washer keeps working, but Dryer has a celebratory screech she makes when she’s finished, so sometimes I ask her to wait until morning to finish her job.

In our last house, we even had one whose sole job was to do the dishes.  Granted, she wasn’t a fulltime maid, and she couldn’t do them as fast as I could, but her being on our household staff meant that I didn’t have to do that job. 

Then there is the old matron who caries messages for us. She can take any message, to nearly anyone, at any time, and in an instant. She has several children who she has trained in this service so she goes by Ma Bell.
We have other servants. There is the groundskeeper who can cut the grass so evenly, it’s amazing.  Sure, I have to walk around with him.  He is rather young so that unlike some of the other servants, he can’t do it without one of us there.  Still, his abilities are quite remarkable.  Thanks, Mower, for all the work you do.  Put a sickle in my hand and the lawn just wouldn’t look as nice.

Then there’s one that is absolutely amazing.  We call her Electricity.  She keeps the furnace going in the winter, fans us in Summer and stokes the cookstove.  She lights the lamps for us at night.  She winds the clocks and the music box.  She even is able to make the picture box light up to let us watch moving pictures.  She is so efficient that she often helps the other maids with their work.

We also have a stable master.  He keeps the horses fed, groomed and the carriage running smoothly.  All we have to do is head out the door, and there’s the carriage ready and waiting for us.  He hands over the reins, and off we go.  His name is Hyundai.

Then there’s the gardener and his family.  He’s no ordinary gardener.  He not only keeps the garden for us, but when his family harvests the vegetables, they goes to the trouble of cleaning them and sometimes even cutting them up, so that when I go to cook, all I have to do is throw them in the pan.  They take the wheat to the miller and bring it back already ground into flour for us.  Sometimes they even take the flour to the baker so that I don’t even have to bake the bread.  He takes our animals to the butcher and brings back the meat all packaged up and ready for us. His abilities are truly astounding.  Through trade and bartering, he can produce from his larder almost any fruit or vegetable; any meat, fish or fowl;  any grain, flour, bread or cake I desire, regardless of the season! His name is Hannaford.

Sometimes I can’t believe how blessed I am to have all these servants.  Not only do they work hard, they almost never complain.  They cost very little to feed, and they lighten my load so much.  

So today I give thanks for all the household help I have.  If I didn’t have all that help, I certainly wouldn’t be able to spend most of my day doing the other jobs I do. 

Fifteen Years

Fifteen years ago I said, “I do.”  I said it with full faith that God had brought us together and that He would give me the grace to fulfill the vows I made that day.  I did not expect it to be easy.  In fact, I expected it to be hard.  We had both been single a long time.  Joining two independent lives and making them one would be a challenge.  And, although we had known each other for more than a year, our long-distance relationship meant that we had not spent a lot of time together.

The first couple years I found myself often praying, “Lord, help me to be the wife you want me to be.  Make me a servant.  Make me submissive.”  My independent spirit often rebelled.  I got upset over small things and cried silent tears over my failures.  I struggled to be the wife I knew I should be and cried out for God’s mercy and power to make me that woman.

At the same time, I was amazed at how blessed I felt by having this man by my side.  God had given me a huge gift.  He given me a friend and companion for the rest of my life, and He had answered my prayer for a ministry partner.

There were a few blessings that surprised me.  My emotional ups and downs leveled out.  He stabilized me.  When the dark clouds of winter’s SAD came over me, I simply talked to him about it and we figured out a way to ease its hold.  Perhaps the biggest blessing to our new marriage was that I found was that he had already learned to resolve conflict in a biblical manner, and he taught me to do the same.

So today I want to give thanks to God for this man I call “My wonderful husband.”  I wanted to write him a poem, but the words and thoughts have failed, so instead I’ll just make a list.
Charlie, I still love . . .

• looking at your sleepy face across the breakfast table. 
• cooking together.
• hearing you pray for me.
• learning from you when you preach and teach.
• dreaming and working with you on the things God still has for us to do.
• the way you try to please me with little things and big:  little things like making the bed or doing the dishes and big things like taking me out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate our anniversary.
• your faith in our amazing God.
• your steadying influence in my life.
• your steadfastness to stay on the path God has shown us even when the end of deputation seems like an unattainable goal.
• sitting in the library or the café together working separately on our computers.
• sharing our faith together at the evangelism booth at the fair.
• singing duets with you.
• walking down the street hand in hand.
• and so much more.  I think I could keep going until everyone got tired of reading, but that’s enough for now.

Suffice it to say, I’m so glad I married you.

To the Finish Line

I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 3:14

Last week we were involved in Vacation Bible School.  The students learned about the apostle Paul and his desire to keep pressing toward the finish line.

Yesterday Charlie and I participated in a 10K race.  I signed us up months ago because I need something to help keep me motivated to get out and exercise.  There are just too many days when the excuses easily defeat me.  Knowing a race is coming up helps me.

We arrived in downtown Freeport at about 7:00 a.m.  Hundreds of people were already milling around the starting area.  Some were stretching.  Others were running in place, but most simply stood around talking.  They talked about the weather, other races they’d run, and their hopes for a personal best.  Those who had never run the course asked questions about what it was like.  For everyone, though, they had only one thing on their minds – finishing the 6.2 miles that loomed ahead.

This was our third time running this race.  I hoped I would beat my last time.  I doubted it would be the best of the three because it was certainly the most uncomfortable weather we had encountered for this event.  Minutes before the start, Charlie moved ahead in the lineup to a more appropriate place for him, and soon we were off.

The course takes a gentle downhill for the first three miles.  At one point it bumps up with a fairly steep hill and then continues downward.  I started out slowly, remembering that the last time I ran this I started too fast and was lightheaded by the end.  I felt like the slowest runner in the crowd of about 1500 runners.  It seemed everyone passed me.

Slowly the pack thinned out and I found myself running alongside two other women, both of whom were running this race for the first time.  I answered their questions about the course and we talked about the hot weather.  When the first steep hill began, I had to walk, and they surged ahead.  In my mind I kept reciting the verse, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.”  I asked myself, Am I doing the best I can?  Do I really need to walk right now?  When the answer was “yes” I had to content myself with the knowledge that I would get to the end, but I would not beat either of my previous race times.

Mile after mile slowly crept by.  Mile four seemed unending.  More runners passed.  One woman who cruised by looked like she was about six months pregnant.  A man came up behind me saying, “Clap, Virginia.”  I turned to look.  He was pushing his infant daughter in a stroller.  I clapped for them instead.  Another father, obviously a veteran to races by the “Beach to Beacon” race shirt he wore, held back his desire to compete to encouraged his teenage daughter on her first 10K.  She was beginning to feel that this race would never end.

The sun was more intense and the shady spots fewer.  I once again slowed to a walk.  By now other people around me were walking.  A spectator shouted from the sidelines, “Love the shoes!”  That was enough to get me running again and I passed as many of the walkers as I could. 

Eventually the finish line crept into view and I began to mentally sing a song of praise with a faster beat.  “O let your soul now be filled with gladness.  Your heart redeemed, rejoice indeed!”  I took off running – not full speed but faster than before.  Charlie, who had already finished, was watching for me and joined my running for a bit.  About 400 feet from the line a woman started to pass me, so I stepped it up and raced her for the finish.  She beat me, but not by much.

The race was over.  It was the slowest time I’d had.  A volunteer worker handed me a bottle of water.  After a couple gulps, we left the crowds and headed for the car. 

I didn’t do well today, I thought.  But there will be other races if I want to try again.

Through all of this I kept thinking.  There’s another finish line I have my eye on.  The difference there is that I only get one shot at that one.  There will be no doing it over if I’m not satisfied with the results.  It’s the one we talked about last week in VBS: “the high calling of God in Christ Jesus”.  It’s the race of life.

I want to get to heaven and hear the Father say, “Welcome home, child.  Well done.”  I want to know on that day that I have run the race of life to the best of my ability.  I don’t want to hear him tell me of all the times I let excuses keep me from doing the right thing.  I want to know that I kept going even when times were tough.  I want to keep pressing on until I reach that finish line.

Vacation Bible School

Vacation Bible School is often a highlight for children.  Our church in Maine held theirs recently.  Here is a summary of what happened.

• Every night between 45 – 50 children and teens came to VBS at West Hampden.



Craft time for one group

• Every night there were songs, crafts, games, Bible time, and a missionary challenge. The children heard a continuing missionary story from Joan and the teens were challenged by Charlie to consider God’s calling for their lives.  Charlie also taught the Junior High class during their Bible time.
• Every night the two teams (the Fords and the Chevys) raced each other to reach the finish line first. Points accumulated pushed each team closer and closer to the goal. Every night the Fords were a little ahead until the last night when the Chevys surged ahead and won.
• Every night parents brought their children and some of them stayed until it was over.

So, was it successful? It depends on how you count success. Only God knows the whole story, but here is what we know.

• The workers were faithful to do the job they were called to do. They also did it with enthusiasm and joy.
• The children kept coming back.



Telling the missionary story.

• Many Scripture verses were committed to memory.
• One child made a profession of saving faith. Another name was written in the Lamb’s Book of Life.
• Over $400 was raised for us to buy children’s materials for our ministries and missionaries abroad.

Overall it was a good week, and we are thankful that we were able to be a part of it. 

Excitement: Real or Fake?

WITH NOTES TO SELF

Shortly after I graduated from college, I went back home for a while to work off the small debt I had accrued during my last year in college.  I quickly found a job waiting tables and cars at a small drive-in restaurant.

One day I arrived to hear two of my co-workers talking about someone I didn’t know.  Evidently, someone had died in a car accident and they were very concerned for the family members of the deceased.  I had read the paper this morning.  I didn’t see any mention of a car accident.  The way they were talking, I thought it would be front page news.  Finally, I interrupted and asked how they knew this person.  Sheepishly, the cook admitted that they were talking about a soap opera.

That was my first experience with real emotions expended over a false reality.  While I had personally experienced it to a degree in the reading of novels or watching a television show, I don’t think I had ever gotten so caught up in it that I was still talking about it several days later, trying to come to grips with the dynamics of fictional events.

Yet there are times when the excitement we see when we are out and about reminds me of that experience.  A lot of energy and emotion can be expended over things that pale in comparison to others.  I fall so easily into the trap myself.  Sometimes I think that a little entertainment is worth the time I put into it when there are many things that matter so much more that are waiting to be done.  So let me ask you.  Which do you think is better?  

• The excitement (and exhaustion) that comes from raising a family or the excitement of watching the Duggars raise theirs? 
• The excitement of watching a cooking competition on TV or the real joy of taking a meal to an exhausted mother or shut-in?  I’m not opposed to quality entertainment.  I just don’t want to be a watcher on the stage of life when I could be an actor.  Note to self:  The next time you’re watching something on TV, make sure your hands are busy with something more permanent.
• The excitement of a shopping trip to find Christmas presents for people whose closets are already full or the excitement of sending a gift to someone who is trying to survive on $3.00 a month?  Note to self:  Find more joy in giving to the needy than in giving to those who already have.  Remember, “He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the LORD; and that which he hath given will he pay him again.”
• The excitement of winning a war on your video game or the excitement of actually getting out there and engaging in spiritual combat against the forces of evil?  Note to self:  Make sure you are daily engaged in battle for the souls of others.  As Paul put it so well, “Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.” 
• The excitement of climbing a mountain with a group of friends or the excitement of personally (or corporately) reaching new spiritual heights?  Note to self:  Encourage yourself and your friends to be more concerned with spiritual discipline than with physical achievements.  As Paul wrote to Timothy, “ For bodily exercise profiteth little: but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come.”

The list could go on, but you get the picture.

This morning I was reading in Acts where Philip had gone to teach and preach.  The end of the story reads, “And there was great joy in that city.”  Great joy.  That’s what I like to see.  So what had been going on?  The people there listened and obeyed Philip’s teaching and they saw many miracles taking place – miracles such as people being healed and set free from demons. 

In the past two years of deputation, we have had the privilege of being in churches where excitement abounds.  The excitement is not being generated by the music, social events, children's activities, or even the next thing on the calendar.  The excitement we see seems to be about the obvious work of God in their midst.  People are being saved from the clutches of their sin.  Lives are being changed.  People are telling others about the greatest thing that has ever happened to them.  They are encouraging people to come to their church because they are excited about what they see God doing in their their own lives and in the lives of their friends.  They want their friends and colleagues to experience what they have. 

I like excitement.  But more and more I want it to be the kind of excitement that causes heaven to rejoice. 

From Erudite to Folksy

 

After a couple days of a feverish cold, I felt tired and lightheaded.  My sister offered to settle me down on the couch with a radio broadcast of her church, but since her church was literally across the street, I decided to go.  We sat on the front row of the balcony where my coughing (hopefully) would not contaminate those in front of me. 

From the first triumphant chords of the pipe organ to the final prayer of the pastor, I was reminded that I was in a church that was comfortable with big words, classical music, and cultured tastes.  My compromised voice did not permit me to join in the congregational singing, but my heart worshipped as I heard the hundreds of voices energetically praising God.  The sermon was well crafted and well presented.  It suited the congregation who had come to listen and learn.  They were not there to please themselves.  They wanted to obey the Savior of their Souls. 

After church and lunch, I took a much-needed afternoon nap.  Awaking refreshed, I was ready to head out once again for an evening service. 

If the morning were classified as erudite, the evening has to be classified as folksy.  The pianist’s fingers flew across the keyboard while the congregation sang old-fashioned favorites.  The pastor grew up in Cajun-country and spoke in a folksy southern style.  He was blunt when he needed to be, yet funny.  The sermon was frequently punctuated by ”Amens!” from the congregation.  When it grew quiet, he knew he hit a sensitive spot. 

When I left that evening, I was greatly encouraged by the diversity of the Body of Christ.  Most of the people from that morning’s service would not have wanted to attend the church of the evening and vice versa.  Yet in both places, their love for Christ their Savior shone through everything they did. 

When you attend the same church for ten, thirty or sixty years, it’s easy to assume that other churches are like yours.  Deputation has been good to show us how diverse Christ’s body actually is.  Whether it could be classified as high church or low, what really matters is whether people are there to fellowship with God’s people and to learn and grow together.  Today was just one more example of how different local churches can be from one to the next.

Life is Travel

For the past couple years, whenever someone has asked us where we live, we say, “Our car.”  While we don’t actually reside in our car, it is true that we have no permanent home right now.  Life right now consists in traveling from one place to another and staying wherever we can find someone willing to put us up for a time.

Along the way, I try to keep a camera handy to catch some of the beautiful scenes we see.  Here are just a few of them.

    

While in Charleston, SC, we visited with friends.  We were so near the beach that even though I had a sprained ankle, I begged for a walk on the beach.  It was an exceptionally pretty day – blue skies, cool breezes, and sand crunching under foot.  We kept our walk short, but the soft sand under foot was easier on my ankle than regular walking, so we were able to walk longer than I had in quite a while.








Usually Charlie drives while I do other things.

Like read the Bible aloud

Or take pictures of interesting bridges

Or be amazed by snow-covered fields in Iowa in late April.

Of course, the best part of our trips is when we stop and spend time with people.

Here Charlie got to participate in the ordaining of our friend, Pastor Greg Loveless.  You can’t see Charlie here, but he was in this photo.  You can see his blue shirt sleeve hanging down to the right of the man whose back is to the camera.  I think one of the hands may be his as well.

Here Charlie is encouraging the people of this church in Iowa to return that evening to hear our report.  It was great to be back in this church - a church my dad pastored when I was in college.  They were the ones who sent me out on my first missionary journey.  They have prayed for me over the years, and there were still quite a few faces there I recognized.  It was great to reconnect with some of them and to hear how the Lord had worked in their lives through the intervening years.

We are grateful for this season of our lives when we are able to connect with so many people we haven't seen in years.  Even though the travel gets old sometimes, if it means we get to see old friends and make new ones, it's worth it.

In Praise of a Spiritual Foundation

Last week we returned from a trip to South Carolina.  For me, it was only my third trip to the Charleston area, but for Charlie, it was like going home again, especially spiritually.  Victory Baptist Church is the church where he became the man of God he is today.

Jimmy Flowers, the associate pastor, stood to his feet and said, “Brother Charlie was here when I was this high (holding his hand at his hip) to this high (and he moved his hand up to his shoulder).  Some of you remember him and may have been present at his ordination.”

When Charlie got up to speak, he reflected fondly on his years there.

“I helped build that building back there.  This was where I was baptized.  This is where I taught my first Sunday school class.  This is where I sang in the choir for the first time.  This is where I sang my first solo.  This is where I became a deacon.  You ordained me.  You commissioned me as a missionary, and you supported me when I went out to Arizona to work with the Apache Indians.”

What a blessing it was for me to hear that commendation to the church.  They laid the spiritual foundation in the man I love.  How grateful I am for their work in his life.

I hope there are many people who read this who can look back and say, "That was where the spiritual foundation of my life was laid.  If it were not for them, I would not be where I am today."

On My Soapbox about the "Dove Commercial"

Yesterday I intended to take my normal short visit to Facebook.  Usually I check my page, answer messages and look at recent items on the newsfeed.  That generally takes me about ten minutes.  People who know me know that if they want to be sure I’ll see something, they have to message or tag me.  I don’t want to spend too much time there.  I’d rather spend real time with real people.

Yesterday on my short visit, I saw a number of people posting a link to the “Dove Commercial,” the one where the artist compares peoples own description of themselves with someone else’s.  I decided to take the time to see it as it was obviously making an impression on some of my friends.  So I watched it and found it troubling, but I couldn’t put my thoughts into words immediately.  I needed time.

My first reaction when I saw it was “Why does it matter?”  Why does it matter what I think I look like?  Why does it matter what other people think I look like?  Does it make any difference to the way I live my life?  Shouldn’t I, as an adult, have gotten beyond the need for an affirmation of beauty?  Isn’t life much more than looks?  Are we, as a society, so self absorbed that our own physical beauty matters that much? 

Secondly, beautiful women are not just the ones with flawless skin, thin faces, and straight noses.  I know women whose radiance makes them stand out in a crowd.  Everyone who knows them tends to talk about how beautiful they are, but they do not fit a narrow standard of beauty.  There is an inner quality that shines through their eyes and demeanor that makes people take notice and call them beautiful.

Two of God's beautiful women

Third, beauty is so much more than physical appearance.  The most beautiful women I know are not those who would win a beauty pageant.  They are the ones who are daring and bold and whose beauty shines through actions more than well-placed makeup.  I would rather see a woman covered in mud helping to rescue victims after a flood than a beautifully dressed woman on a red carpet.  A woman willing to welcome the seventh child into an already busy home is more beautiful to me than a perfectly dressed one who walks out of a lawyer’s office in a power suit. 

When we read about the most amazing women of history, their physical appearance is not generally mentioned.  Was Florence Nightingale pretty?  What about Clara Barton, founder of the Red Cross?  Or Harriet Beecher Stowe or Harriet Tubman, who brought the plight of slaves into the forefront of American thinking?  Do you think Margaret Thatcher sat and worried about her physical appearance while she made decisions on behalf of her nation?  Does it really matter what any of them looked like?


God's beautiful women in Guatemala.



 Would Mary, the mother of Jesus, have been called beautiful by her peers? I have my doubts. What about Abigail, Ruth, Priscilla, or Dorcas? Yet all of these women are highlighted in Scripture, not for their looks, but for who they were.

For those of us who claim to be Christian, it should be very clear that the world’s standard of beauty is not ours.  God created each of us unique.  Since His hand of creativity is on each woman, all of us are beautiful in His eyes.  Would we say to a daisy, “You’re not pretty because you are not a rose!”  Of course not.  We need to be very careful before we lightly criticize the creative hand of God in our lives.  While we know genetics plays a part, it is still amazing the way God puts those genes together to create a uniquely beautiful person.

Are any of us alike?  Yet all of us were created by God.

So instead of celebrating our world’s standard of physical beauty, let’s celebrate the work of God evident in each others’ lives.  Let's clap each other on the back and celebrate obvious acts of kindness.  Let's rejoice when someone returns evil with good.  Let's encourage industry, generosity, joyfulness, and patience.  Let us stop commending each other on how beautiful we look and instead commend each other for how beautiful you ARE.  Let's turn our eyes away from Hollywood's standards and remember God's standards.  After all, He's the One who created beauty.  I think He should be the final judge.

A Small Slice of Latin America

Coming down a long driveway, a blue sign with white letters welcomed us to “Iglesia Bautista Sublime Gracia”.  We drove around the back of a long brick ranch house to where the other cars were parked under the scattered pines and oak trees.

Almost as soon as we’d parked and gotten out of the car, Ric and Beth Hurd arrived.  They are IPM missionaries who live in Georgia and whose ministry is to reach out to ethnic groups here in the U.S.  We waited for them to park and greeted them.  Charlie and Ric went to meet and pray with the pastor before the services began, and Beth and I went into the main building to find seats.  Our light complexions stood out in the sea of darker skin, so we introduced ourselves as we went.  “Buenos dias,” I greeted as we passed.

“Buenos dias,” they returned.

Inside the house, some of the walls had been removed to create an auditorium that could seat about a hundred people.  We’d been told that Sunday School would start at 9:30 and that Charlie would speak during Sunday School. 

Not long after 9:30, the service began.  We sang a few songs and the younger classes were dismissed.  Teenagers stayed with the adults.  Charlie spoke on “The Four Laws of Communication” from Ephesians 4, a lesson he’s taught throughout the world.  Translation was provided for him by another man who is a former missionary to Latin America. 

As Charlie spoke, it was clear to me that some of the young men in the room were fluent in English.  They laughed at Charlie’s jokes before they were translated and were listening for the accuracy of the translation.  So when “the first hour of Sunday School” was over, I spoke with them and said, “You could have been the translator.” 

“Oh, no,” they said.  “He did a much better job.”  I am hopeful, though, that at some point in the future one of them will take up that challenge when those skills are needed again.

We took a half-hour break out under a large tent where children and adults lined up for a snack.  Two young women were pouring “Atole de Avena” into Styrofoam cups.  Atole de Avena is a Mexican hot oatmeal drink, sweetened with honey and seasoned with cinnamon – a healthy way to keep everyone satisfied until they could eat lunch.

A half hour later, we were back in the auditorium for “the second hour of Sunday School”.  During this hour, the classes that were dismissed included teenagers, a singles class, and a new believers class in addition to the younger classes.  About forty people remained in the room, among them children and teens who could have gone to one of the other classes but chose to stay for “The Pastor’s Class”.  Attendance was taken by calling out a name and that person responded by getting up to say the day’s memory verse or by admitting that they hadn’t learned it.  Of course, this took quite a bit of time.  There were also those who were turning in their worksheets from their daily quiet times as the pastor was trying to encourage them to develop new habits.  The pastor then taught a lesson for the next half hour.

At 1:00 in the afternoon, all of the classes returned to the main auditorium where they sang “Happy birthday” to those who’d had birthdays during the week.  Among them was the pastor’s wife.  The people were reminded of Communion Service that night at 5:00 with the qualifier that it was only for baptized members of the church.  The day’s worship service would be at 6:00 p.m.  Then the Sunday school teachers led in a “Goodbye Song”. 

While we were gathering up our things, one of the women came and asked if we would join them for lunch.  Unknown to the pastor’s wife, the ladies of the church had planned for “dinner on the grounds” to celebrate her birthday.  We agreed to stay.

Another woman came and put her hand in mine.

“Juanita,” she said (in Spanish).  “My sister was named Juanita.  She died a few years ago, and I miss her.  I don’t know if she’s in heaven or not, so I’m so thankful to meet you.  Thank you for learning Spanish.  It’s been so hard for me to be here where no one understands me.  English is so hard to learn.”

My heart went out to her.  I know what it’s like to be in a foreign country where no one speaks your language.  I imagine that church is like a little slice of home to her.

We went outside, fully expecting to stand in line with the rest of the people, when we were told that our plates were waiting for us.  At the head table, next to the pastor’s family, were plates of steaming food: rice, beans, salad and carne guisado (stewed pork, in this case).  Delicious! 

During lunch, I found out that the pastor had five children and that their arrival in the US was “a long story.”  I listened to the shortened version, and then watched as the pastor’s wife teased the children that the very large cake was hers, and she was going to take it home.  But a few minutes later, she began to cut it up and divide it out among the guests.  A child brought me a plate, and it reminded me of the moist birthday cakes I’d had in Guatemala, many years ago.

The children waiting for a piece of cake.

One of the children asked the pastor’s wife if there was going to be a piñata.  Since she wasn’t in charge of the plans, she didn’t know.  But sure enough, a few minutes later one appeared.

With full stomachs and hearts full of praise for the work that God was doing there in Douglasville, GA, we took our leave.  The party was far from over, but we had an evening service to get to in another town.  As we left, excited children were gathering around a piñata, waiting for their turn to try to break it open.

As our car drove down the driveway, I sighed.  For a few hours, I could have believed I was in Latin America again.  Everyone spoke Spanish.  The food was deliciously Latino, and the people were delightfully Hispanic.  I could get used to this, I thought.  It was sort of like biting into a piece of cake and finding hidden flavor.  You were expecting a vanilla sponge cake and found ribbons of chocolate and coffee syrup thrown in.  I could definitely get used to this.  Here in the middle of Georgia I had found a little slice of Latin America.

God’s Sweet Voice

I love it when God speaks clearly.  It’s scary if it’s been too long since I’ve heard that clear voice of His.  Whether His voice speaks comfort, conviction, direction, or wisdom, I need to know He’s speaking clearly.  I want to know it’s His voice and not my own selfish desires directing the choices I’m making.

We went to Mississippi to participate in a missions conference.  There was wonderful fellowship with other missionaries and pastors.  The music and the speakers were tremendous.  But the best part of those three days was God’s clear voice speaking to my heart.

His Sweet Voice in Scripture

On Tuesday morning, I took Charlie to the conference and returned to the hotel room to read and pray.  I prayed about our deputation.  I prayed for Charlie and the contacts he was making.  I prayed about my ministry.  I asked, “Lord, what exactly is my role in this whole deputation process?”   I heard Him speak to my heart and say, “Read Ephesians 4:1.”

I opened my Bible and read,

I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called.

Wow!  Walk worthy of the vocation wherewith I am called.  That’s a tall order.  I have been called to be a wife to my dear husband, a missionary with IPM, a representative of the King of Kings, and a fellow traveller on my way to heaven with many other fellow travellers. 

“Okay,” I responded to the Lord.  “I get it.  I’m to walk in a way that is worthy of the calling on my life.  But HOW?  How am I supposed to fulfill such a tall order?

So I read on,

With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love; endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. 

So it’s not so much WHAT I do as HOW I do it.  My role is to have an attitude of humility, meekness, patience, forgiveness and unity.  In my calling as a wife, those are necessary.  In my calling as a fellow missionary, those are necessary.  In my calling as a fellow Christian, those are necessary.  Whether I’m alone with Charlie or out in the public eye, I need these qualities.  When I relate to others, I need these.  When I’m tempted to get discouraged or complain, I need these.  I have been so focused on the WHAT, that I’d forgotten that God looks at the heart and sees everything based on that.  I need to develop His attitudes in me.

His Sweet Voice during Preaching

On Wednesday morning, I sat listening to the preacher talk about the need of the world to hear the gospel.  I cannot give you his three points because the Holy Spirit was using that time to speak deeply to my heart.  When the altar call came, I knew I needed to respond.  Yes, I could have responded in my seat, but it was important that I publicly acknowledge that God was working on me.  I went to the altar with deep sorrow and repentance. He convicted me of sin and reminded me once again of things that I had forgotten.  He helped me regain my focus on Him and on the need to stay focused on eternity. God is far more patient with me than I usually am with others.

His Sweet Voice in Consensus

When the conference was over, we loaded up our display and headed to the car.  Travelling down the road, I told Charlie of the Holy Spirit’s conviction and why I had gone forward.  He then told me that the Lord had addressed an area of need in his life too – the same one for which I had come under conviction.  We realized it was the Lord’s way of directing us as a couple  .It was like a light went on right in front of us directing us in the choice of a home base.

By speaking to us individually about the same thing, we walked away from the conference saying, “We really need to be part of a church that has soul winning as a major part of its makeup.”  It was suddenly so clear to me that I needed a church like that, and then I found out Charlie came to the same conclusion.  We knew God had spoken clear direction into our lives to help us find a home church.

I Need His Voice

We know God can use circumstances to guide as well, but it is the clear sweet voice of the Holy Spirit that I crave.  I need to hear HIm speak clearly in every aspect of my life.  As Moses said to the Lord,

“If thy presence go not with me, carry us not up hence.  For wherein shall it be known here that I and thy people have found grace in thy sight?  Is it not in that thou goest with us?”   

I agree.

Missions Conference Notes

Over the past few days, we have been participating in a missions conference.  The speakers were great.  Here are a few quotes that I was able to get written down.

From Dr. Joe Arthur I heard, "Little is much if God is in it, and God will get in it if you give Him what you’ve got."

I wrote down several quotes from Dr. Tommy Ashcraft, a missionary in Mexico.  Here are some of his:

Teens in Guatemala singing about taking the gospel to the world. 

The only dream a Christian has a right to dream is to take the gospel to a hidden corner of the mission field. 

The average church member only gives $2.00 a week to missions.  That won’t even buy a Happy Meal at McDonalds!  

You have not given sacrificially until you give something you will not be able to replace. 

We complain about waste in government, but if we use any dollar except to further the gospel, it is wasted. 

What right do we have to ask a missionary to change his lifestyle in order to go to the mission field if we are not willing to change our lifestyle to send them? 

Dr. Mark Smith said,

The person sitting in your seat is the one who needs to surrender. 

Our city is not unreachable. It is just unreached.  

I came away challenged, eager to share the gospel more and excited to be part of the work that God has left His people to do.  I am both humbled and amazed that I get to be part of something that actually changes people's lives!

Do not confuse obscure preaching with deep preaching

The basic thought expressed above has been percolating in my mind on and off for months. Today I read an opinion piece in the Bangor Daily News by Stephen M. Walt. He is a Harvard professor and has been writing for decades. His article on poor academic writing included the phrase "many academics tend to confuse incomprehensibility with profundity". Aha! He is right, in academic circles and in religious circles. I believe I have benefited by this principle. I have preached a sermon that poorly presented a theological truth and been praised as "deep".

As I transitioned from a preaching ministry into a teaching ministry I considered what lessons learned from my own failings could be communicated to my future students. This is one of them. Do not confuse obscure preaching with deep preaching. Our job as preachers is to make clear the truths of the Scriptures, not obscure them. I know there are times when emergencies preclude us preparing as well as we want to. I know there are times when the passage we have chosen does not yield its fruit in due season. I know there will be a broad spectrum of doctrinal understanding in our congregations. My point is do not let this become a routine event!

“So they read in the book in the law of God distinctly, and gave the sense, and caused them to understand the reading. And Nehemiah, which is the Tirshatha, and Ezra the priest the scribe, and the Levites that taught the people, said unto all the people, This day is holy unto the LORD your God; mourn not, nor weep. For all the people wept, when they heard the words of the law.” (Ne 8:8-9 AV)

Our job is to cause the people to understand the passage. Not always an easy task, but a needful one.

Multiplying Jerusalems

“But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.” (Ac 1:8 AV)

I had the privilege and pleasure to participate in a missions conference recently where a preacher said he explained missions as "multiplying Jerusalems." We often focus on missions as a way of fulfilling the Great Commission. We look at the way the Apostles fulfilled the Great Commission and see them planting churches. We connect the dots and see church planting as a way of fulfilling the Great Commission, and that is correct. We often fail to add the next dot in the line which is when the church plant matures and starts planting churches!

As a church seeks to fulfill the Great Commission and plants a church, in a nearby community or half-way around the world, the new church becomes the "Jerusalem" for that new congregation. When that church plant grows and the Lord lays a "Judea, Samaria, or uttermost part of the earth" on their hearts they undertake a church plant in obedience to the Great Commission. A new "Jerusalem" is created.

Whether the churches are planted by a team from a single local church or as a result of a number of churches working together through a missionary the goal is the same; bring an independent local church into being. The ultimate goal is to see churches multiplied "unto the uttermost part of the earth."

Growing Fruit

Mangoes at entrance

In Ghana fruit trees are everywhere. Mature mango, plantain and paw paw (papaya) trees are abundant at Solid Rock Baptist Bible College. They line the entrance road, snuggle up to the buildings and grow in neat rows in the area reserved for future growth. Fruit trees are wonderful things. They were among the things God gave Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. They give food year by year in abundance. They require little maintenance compared to garden crops. They do require more work to plant than a garden crop, then you need to wait a few years before they mature and start to yield an abundance of fruit. In the end the fruit tree gives the greatest yield for effort invested.

PawPaw at construction site

Solid Rock Baptist Bible College is in the business of growing spiritual fruit trees as well. The college trains men to be pastors. The faculty grounds them in the Bible. They help them acquire practical experience through ministering in the campus church and with experienced pastors in other cities and towns. The faculty are all men with active ministries so they are current in the issues and battles of the day. These students go forth and yield their fruit in their season, year after year.

I recently had the privilege of teaching a module at Solid Rock Baptist Bible College. I taught 15 men on the subject of the Pastor’s Family Life. These men were mostly pastors, many more experienced in the ministry than I am. The class featured lots of discussion, some of it spirited. While I did not plant the fruit trees, I had the opportunity to fertilize them so they would be more fruitful. I had the opportunity to inoculate them against sins that could have ended their ministries. I labored in the orchard that is Solid Rock Baptist Bible College in the knowledge that God would use His Word in His servants to build His Church in Ghana, and that more abundantly.

Saying Goodbye

 

I held him in my arms and whispered in his ear, “Pray with me before you go.” 

“You start,” he said.

Quietly, with tears threatening my voice, I prayed for safety, blessing, and a fruitful ministry in Ghana.  When I was finished, he prayed for me.  Then he got in line for security. and in a few minutes, he was gone.

Now I sit at a nearby McDonalds waiting for word that he has boarded and is about to take off.  Then I’ll make the two-hour trip back to my parents’ home.

For some reason this goodbye has been harder than others.  In the past few days, there have been several times when the tears have surfaced.  On Monday I buried my face in the laundry I was carrying to the laundry room.  Yesterday I ran for the bathroom where my sobs would be unheard.  I didn’t want to dampen the present joy of having him there with me with the sorrow of the coming separation. 

Why is it so hard this time?  I wondered.  Yes, it’s always harder to be the one left behind in any separation, so that’s part of it.  This is a two-week separation instead of our usual week apart, so that’s part of it too.  Then there’s being homeless.  When he’s been gone before, I’ve had a house project I wanted to tackle while he was away with the expectation that when he returned I could greet him with a freshly painted room or a newly-organized space.  We don’t have a house this time, so there are no household projects awaiting me.  Not being part of our home church makes it harder too.  I know our church is praying for us, but it’s different when you’re not there to actually hear them pray.

So the tears are flowing down my cheeks.  My heart aches.  I wish I could have gone with him.

As he flies off to the other side of the world, my prayers go with him.  I’m glad we both look to the same Heavenly Father and that He has promised to keep Charlie securely in His hands.  I can relax and let him go. 

I have lots to do while he is gone, so I will be busy and the days will fly by, though not quite quickly enough.

Packing for Ghana

Charlie likes to travel light.  He prefers, whenever possible, to take just carry-on items.  It eliminates the possibility of ending up in Ghana while your luggage flies to Egypt.  It also means you don’t have to wait for your luggage to come off the conveyer belt before heading to customs so you get through faster.

As a teacher, Charlie usually thinks of taking his notes, his Bible, his computer, and his personal clothes and toiletries.  Money for a few incidentals, a passport and a ticket round out all the needed supplies for a teaching trip.  All of this he can fit in very little space. 

This trip, though, is different. 

A couple weeks ago we received word that shoe boxes had arrived in Hanover for the ministry in Ghana.  One of the women in our office was driving to Florida.  She loaded them in her car.  We met her in Chattanooga for breakfast on her way through and loaded them in our car.  Then the packing began.  A few days ago we received another package through the mail that was also included.

Mission impossible?

So instead of going with just carry-on items, or perhaps checking one suitcase, Charlie is traveling with three large suitcases plus his two carry-on items.   On the way home, he will leave one suitcase behind and nest another suitcase inside the third so that he only has one checked bag piece to bring back.

You see, teaching is not our only ministry.  We are also called to serve the local missionaries in whatever way we can.  This time they needed to have us bring these items to them.