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.

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.

A Virginia Welcome

As we say goodbye to our week in Virginia, we take our leave with hearts of gratitude for the great things God did for us through the good people of Lighthouse.  I will list just a few of them.
1.  Our hosts agreed to take us in early so that we could avoid Sandy, the “storm of the century.”  An apartment in their basement provided luxurious accommodations.  They also graciously allowed us to fend for ourselves for lunch so that we would not be tempted to overeat at every meal.
2.  The church showered us with gifts.  When we arrived, a gift bag was presented to each of the ladies.  The next day, the third and fourth-grade children at the Academy presented us with a goodie box that was loaded with practical items.  We found note cards, sanitizers, lotions, band aids, gift cards, tissues, gum, snacks and other special things. They also included a check that was the accumulation of a year-long collection.  When we opened the envelope, we were stunned by the generosity of these children.
3.  Several people opened up their homes to us for dinners.  Those dinners were great opportunities to get to know them, enjoy good home cooking, and spend some time with some of the other missionaries.  I love being in people’s homes.  You get to know them in a way you could never know them otherwise.  At one home, I got to spend time with three gorgeous little girls.  At another, I said to the hostess when I looked around, “You must love candles as much as I do.” 
4.  The preaching all week was superb.  Dr. Earl Jessup, who helps churches plant churches had many good things to say.  These are some favorite quotes from the week:

• They were ready to attack hell with squirt guns because they had seen what God could do.
• Always keep something supernatural in your ministry.  Always have something only God can do.
• We still have a God who will show Himself strong today.
• You need to get a good return on your missionary dollar.
• The church is good for the Christian the way a home is good for a child.  If a child is in a home that is not good for them, he will not turn out right.  If a Christian is not part of a good church, he will not turn out right either.
• You need to start something only God can finish.

5.  The Lord has been working in my heart through the preaching, the fellowship and the study of His Word.  I still have a long way to go to be a good reflection of Jesus, but my heart has been stirred and my faith strengthened through this week.
6.  I always love beautiful scenery, and this was the view out our window all week long.  Unfortunately, the photo just does not do the scene justice.

Dancing with a Hurricane

On October 29 my wife and I drove from York, ME to Winchester, VA; right into the face of "Superstorm" Sandy. You may ask what urgent need would compel me to drive nearly 600 miles through "the storm of the century".

What could be placed on the scales to overcome the possible damage to our car, my safety, and my dear wife's safety?

I did have a few counters to start with:

Modern weather forecasting is very accurate, and Sandy was following the predictions closely.

Cell phone technology allowed me to access these forecasts as we traveled.

My time in the Navy gave me a good understanding of how hurricanes work over water, especially the dangerous and less dangerous halves of the hurricane. (NY City was in the dangerous half!)

My car is faster than a hurricane, I could turn and run!

So I had a plan: I would race the storm to get far enough inland and through the dangerous semi-circle to get to the less dangerous semi-circle, based on the predicted track, and hunker down with our generous hosts.

But why risk it at all? Why not stay in Maine where there was little danger and good fellowship?

The answer - A Missions Revival, call it a missions conference, if you will. But still you may say "Certainly the love offering was not worth the risk!" That would be true, I would never risk my wife's safety, and possibly life, for mere money. There is something more important at work here. The will of the Lord!

God made a divine appointment for Joan and me when Pastor Martin invited us. We claim to follow God's will in our ministry. Should I not trust God to give us the resources to do His will? He had already given us many resources. Some are listed above, others are more mundane. The car, our driving record, the Interstate Highway system, hotels all along the way in case of emergency, a robust emergency services system.

The most important resource however, is trust in Him. We have faith He is worthy of our trust. If God assigns us a task, He will provide the means to accomplish that task. We have but to trust and do. If we cannot trust the Lord to get us 600 miles through some of the easiest and safest roads on earth, how can we trust Him for thousands of miles in a dozen countries?

The overall story of our trip is not very exciting. Maine to Massachusetts was light rain and little wind, Connecticut to NY was a little windy and little or no rain. Pennsylvania to Virginia was interesting, quite windy and moderate rain. But it was never worse than a good summer rainstorm. The whole way we saw evidence of only three accidents; a spin out in West Hartford, CT that was a "normal" rush hour event; a car with a badly damaged front end and no sign of what was hit, likely a deer; and a tractor trailer under tow that appeared to have jackknifed. Not an unusual accident count for a 600 mile trip through some of the busier roads in the US.

Other than crossing the Susquehanna River, where the winds were strong and the construction narrowed the lanes, I never felt in any real danger. I drove from Scranton, PA to Winchester, VA at 50-60 MPH because of the rain, but that was overly cautious to be honest.

After we arrived and had eaten a sumptuous dinner we retired with our hosts to watch The Weather Channel. Sandy had merged with the winter front to become a "Post-Tropical Storm". TWC and the sensationalist media insist on calling her a "Superstorm". The storm rapidly dissipated and the prediction models collapsed. There was no history for the computer programmers to model on. Sandy was truly a "storm of the century", actually two centuries. But Joan and I were safe in a stout house in Winchester, VA where the Lord wanted us!

One Hundred Houses

We left our house in Maine in February, 2010.  It was the nicest house we had ever owned.  Its spacious living and dining room allowed us to have large groups in our home, an advantage when you are the pastor.  Large picture windows let in the sunlight and allowed a view of the lawn and woods that surrounded us.  From the bedroom window, we could catch a glimpse of the Penobscot River.  It even had a garage, something we have lived without during most of our adult lives. 

I especially loved that house at Christmas, when I draped the living room in lighted garlands.  The hardwood floors gleamed and reflected the candles and Christmas lights.  Outside, the snow reminded me that Christ came to cleanse us from our sins and make us as white as snow.  

But God is so gracious.  When He called us into this itinerant ministry, I knew the house had to go.  It was not a hard decision.  I knew God provided the house especially for the task of caring for Charlie’s aging father.  It was perfect for that task.  Not only was it ideally suited to someone with limited mobility, it’s beauty refreshed my spirit at those times when I needed God’s reminder that He would strengthen me to my daily tasks.  But it was a house specifically given for a specific time, and that time had come to an end.

When Jesus spoke to his disciples about the things they would be called to give up, he told them that any one who left his house or family for His sake would receive one hundred times that both in this life and in the life to come.  I began thinking about all the places we’ve stayed in the time since we sold our house.  While we have not yet attained to a hundred houses, it is not hard for me to believe that before we’re done with deputation, we will have lived in a hundred houses, many of them much nicer than we would ever be able to afford. 



Searsport, ME

Today I thought I’d begin the counting and see how far we’ve come.  In some we’ve only stayed a night or two.  In others we’ve stayed a week.  In still others, it’s been several months.  In all of them, though, we have been so grateful for God’s provision of a house for us.  Generally speaking, wherever we’ve gone, we’ve either been given complete run of the house while the owners are gone or we’ve been included into their lives and treated like family.  In either case, the feeling is “Mi casa es su casa,”or “My house is your house.” 
So here goes. 

The view from the porch in Madawaska

1. The raised ranch in Hampden, ME.  After we sold our house, people in our church were gracious enough to grant us the use of their home while they wintered in Florida.
2. The FROG (finished room over the garage) in Glenburn, ME. 
3. The three-bedroom trailer in Searsport, ME. 
4. The cleanest house I’ve ever seen in Madawaska, ME.    
5. The IPM mission house in Hanover, PA.
6. My parents’ home in LaFayette, GA.   

   

   View from balcony, Dominican Republic

7. The sundrenched home in Hato Mayor, Dominican Republic where our gracious hosts gave us the beautiful master bedroom during our stay. 
8. A prophets’ chamber at a church in Hanover, PA.
9. The spacious townhome in Atlanta, GA.



Gulf Shores

10. The beach condo in Gulf Shores, AL, furnished with all my family.
11. The resort condo in Southwest Harbor, ME.
12. The 1940’s house in NC
13. The U-shaped house in Greenville, SC. 
14. The hunting trophy house in Starr, SC.
15. The plantation-style house in Charleston, SC.
16. The lake home in Leesburg, FL where I sat in the sunroom, enjoying watching God's creation.  Sunset reflected in its waters.  The great blue heron flying in for a landing.  An alligator basking in the sunshine.
17. The third-floor condo in Bradenton, FL, with a balcony overlooking the golf course.
18. The prophet's chamber in Southington, CT, where I could listen in on college classes happening just outside the door.
19. The bustling townhouse in Woodbridge, VA, overflowing with active (yet well-behaved) boys.
20. The log cabin with a view of the the fishing pond in Winchester, VA.
21. The doctor’s house in Leesville, LA. "Is there a doctor in the house?"  Well, yes.  In fact, there are two!  As a result, Charlie received some very helpful advice while we were there.
22. Venezuela memories house in Houston, TX.
23. The desert guest house with a view of Mt. Graham, AZ
24. A brightly-lit golf course townhome in Tucson, AZ
25. The farm house in Spencer, IA, where a friendly horse greeted us.
26. The split level home in Minneapolis, MN, where nutritious, organic meals were served daily.
27. The energy-efficient, below-grade house in Boy River, MN.
28. The ivy-covered brick manse in Wheaton, IL.   

    

    Guatemala villa

29. The hill-top villa in Cerro Alto, Sacatepéquez, Guatemala, with a wrap around balcony to take in the million-dollar views.
30. The bison farm house in Franklinville, NY, where college memories abounded.



Machiasport view

31. The room with the view on the bluffs of the bay in Machiasport, ME.
32. The second floor prophet’s chamber in Orono, ME.

Okay, so we’re not quite to 100.  But since this only covers a little more than a year, it will not be difficult to see how God would grant us 100 houses before we’re done. (If you would like to add your house to this list let us know!)

Ah, you say, but these aren’t your houses.  True.  But neither was “our” beautiful house in Hampden actually ours.  The deed may have been in our name, but it certainly was not ours.  It was simply on loan to us from God for the time we needed it.  It was His house.  We were simply the caretakers.

Where Will We Live? (Tongue in cheek)

 Mile after mile.  Sign after sign.  Town after town. 

We sit side by side in the car talking while Charlie drives.  We comment to one another about houses high atop hills or those beside rivers and lakes.  We notice the prices of new houses being built.  Sometimes we laugh at those prices because they are so far above our price range.  We marvel at the palette God uses to paint His beautiful world as the sun tucks itself behind the horizon and paints the sky with pink, purple, and gold.

Every so often, we see a sign for a town that makes us smile about the possibility of living there, so I began a list so that I could share them here.

Of course, there are some town names that reflect other places in the world.  We could live in Paris, Moscow, Naples, Mexico, Lebanon, Poland, Columbia, and Norway without even leaving Maine.  That could provide interesting conversations.  Imagine this conversation.


Our previous home in Hampden, ME

"Where do you live?"

"We live in Oxford."

"Really?  I thought you lived in the U.S."

"We do.  Oxford is a small town between Norway and Poland."

"Wait a minute.  Oxford is in England.  That’s nowhere near Norway or Poland."

"Well, let’s put it this way.  Oxford is a town in Maine.  So are Norway and Poland."



Gulf Shores, AL

"Oh."

Then there are other locations where we can play with the name of the town.

If we live in Humble, TX, we will always welcome you to our humble home.  If we live in Lake, MS, we can invite you to our lake home, though there may not be a lake in sight.  If we live in Mountain Home, TX, you might be surprised that there are only rolling hills around rather than mountains.  If we invite you to our Beach house, don’t be surprised if we mean our house in Beach, TX.

If we live in Welfare, TX, does that mean we’re on welfare?



Madawaska, ME

If we have a small house in Marathon, TX, does that mean we’re in a half marathon?

If we live in Friend, NE, we don’t need a home because we can always go to our Friend’s house.

So where will we live?  Stay with us and find out.

One thing is sure.  We would rather not live in Hell, MI.  That could get really complicated.

Blessings of Being Homeless

“Where do you live?”
It’s a familiar question, and one we often answer by saying, “We’re homeless right now.”  We usually go onto explain that getting rid of house payments and home maintenance expenses  allowed us to go fulltime into deputation.  However, we are very aware that deputation would be much harder for us if we were actually living out of our car, so we’re not really homeless.  We are simply depending upon the generosity of God’s people to carry us through this time.

For the past six months, we have used my parents’ home in Georgia as our base, so our answer then was, “Right now we’re living with my parents in LaFayette.”  While we were there, we made some connections with churches in the North Georgia area and got to know some of the people my parents know.  From there, we made two trips to South Carolina, one to Florida, one to Mississippi, one to Alabama, and one to Connecticut.  (I know.  That was a bit far.)  In all of these places, we were dependent upon the generosity of friends, relatives, or churches to give us a place to stay so that we wouldn’t have to sleep in the car. 
Today, in my private devotions, I realized something.  We have been blessed by not owning a home right now. I know that I would like to settle back into a house or condo one day, but right now God has given me a real sense of peace and contentment about our current situation.  I do not take that blessing lightly.
So let me enumerate some of the blessings I see in being homeless.

1. We do not have a house payment or electric or water bills.
2. We do not have to worry about maintenance or break-ins while we’re gone. 
3. No one has to be hired to cut the grass, mow the lawn, or check our furnace.
4. We are connecting with many of my far-flung family. Right now, we are staying with my brother and his wife in Louisiana. I hadn’t seen them since Christmas, and I had never visited them here. On this long trip we will also see my brother in the Chicago area and another brother in Minneapolis.
5. We are getting to see some people I haven’t seen in years.  On Wednesday and Thursday, we will be staying with one of my roommates from high school.  I haven’t seen her since I left Venezuela 42 years ago.  I’m so excited!  Then we will be visiting the place where Charlie worked with the Apaches, and then another former co-worker in Arizona. Then in a couple weeks, we’ll be staying with a college friend.  I haven’t seen her in over ten years.  We also hope to pass through Spencer, IA, where my dad pastored for a number of years and touch base with friends there.  I could go on because the list of people we hope to see is getting longer as the days go by.  What sweet reunions!
6. “Window shopping” poses no hazards to our bank account.  It’s simply an appreciation of the beautiful and/or efficient things that are available.  I can enjoy them with my eyes without feeling any need to own them.
7. I get to see the many ways that women turn a house into a home for their families.  I love the personalized decorating that I see that reflects a family’s personality and life.
8. I learn new ways to be more effective in my own life and ministry.  Sometimes that’s in watching a busy family manage all the needs of the individuals.  Sometimes it’s by paying attention to a new organizational or management technique that will help me.  Sometimes it’s just by listening to our host pray.

The Son of Man had no place to lay his head.  He has not asked us to sleep outside on the hard ground.  We have not even had to make do with our car, so I’m sure we are much better off than He was.  But we are learning what it means to be homeless in a ministry kind of way, and that’s a good thing.

Missionary Support: Churches or Individuals?

Which group is better for raising support?  These are some of the arguments on both sides.

Churches are better:

• They are consistent.  If they commit to you, you can be quite sure that the money will be there every month.  If they have to let you go, they will notify you.
• They can give larger amounts.
• You have a whole group of people behind you praying for you.

Individuals are better:

• They are quicker in their decisions to take you on for support.
• We can have a personal connection with them.  When you visit them, you are only visiting one person or family instead of a whole group at once.
• We can be more involved personally in their lives.

Which do we want?  Both.  Both are very important to us.  We recognize there are advantages and disadvantages on both sides, but we love the advantages that having both gives us.  Yes, I know these are my reasons and they may not be the same for our supporters, but from this side of the process, I love having both.

I want churches because:

• I have been part of prayer meetings where prayers have gone up from an entire congregation on behalf of their missionary.  I want individuals in their churches to have that corporate sense of “We’re in this together.  We’re on our knees before God as an army who is fighting with them.”
• We both love explaining missions and our particular ministry to groups of people.  For Charlie, that’s often from the pulpit.  For me, it’s with children, teens, and women.  I love the questions they ask and the interest they have.  It encourages me to keep our presentations fresh and meaningful, and to make sure we are one our knees before God before each one of those presentations asking Him what His desires are for that group of people to know.
• When we have churches, we pray for their corporate witness and testimony in the community, for their leaders, and for the decisions they have in front of them.  We want to be able to support entire churches this way.

I want individuals because:

• We can be involved personally in their lives.  When a baby is born, we rejoice.  When a parent dies, we grieve.  
• We pray more personally for those people who are our personal supporters.  When we pray for a church, we are praying for the whole church and sometimes a person or two who comes to mind at the time.  But when we have individual families supporting us, we pray for the family’s own needs.
• We can visit with them easily when we pass through town.  With churches, we can only see them as a group on Wednesdays and Sundays, but with individuals we can meet up for coffee and get together on other days of the week.

So as we wait for our support to come in, we are praying that God would give us both individuals and churches who would see and want to support the niche that God has given us in missions of working under national leaders to train their people.

Are We Nuts?

Seriously, have we lost our marbles?  Do we have a screw lose?  Are we one off our rockers?  I could go on with all the many idioms there are for being seriously crazy.  Take a look at what I mean.

Our home in Hampden, ME

In 2010:

• We lived in a beautiful 2400 square foot house with hardwood floors and a newly remodelled kitchen, a new roof and a new septic system.  It was nestled in the woods overlooking the water.  In the winter, we could see the Coast Guard ice breaker maneuver its way through the ice up to the Bangor harbor.  It felt like it was in the country, but it was only a mile from the grocery store and post office, and only three miles from church. 
• We received a weekly paycheck from a faithful congregation who made sure that we were well cared-for.
• Our lives intertwined with a community of people we had come to know and love.
• We had a neighbor I had come to know and love who had ties to Indonesia, my birthplace.
• We took a missions trip to the Dominican Republic.

In other words, we had it made.

In 2011,

• We were no longer homeowners.  We sold our home, put the money in the bank and moved through a series of short-term residences.
• Charlie stepped down from being the pastor of our dearly loved church.
• We began to visit many churches in Maine to explain to them our vision of going to foreign countries to be part of a teaching team in various colleges and seminaries.

Our previously "stable" life was gone.  How exciting!

Or are we nuts?  Unstable?  Looney?  Batty?  Insane?

The wedding in CT where Charlie officiated.

In 2012,

•  We have already travelled thousands of miles, visiting Connecticut, Virginia, South Carolina and Florida.
• We will be traveling at least 5500 miles in the next two months. 
• We are planning to go to Guatemala in July. 
• From where we are right now, it looks like our expenses will likely exceed our income. 
• It's a good thing we are trusting the One who owns the wealth of every nation.

Or are we nuts?  Delusional?  Bonkers?  Touched in the head?

Sometimes when I look at the facts, I just laugh.  We are crazy! 

But it's so much fun to depend on the Almighty God and to know that He is the One who will supply all our needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.  Since He is the One who called us into this ministry, He will provide for us. 

Our current residence - my parents' home in Georgia.

To be honest, however, the financial needs we have are great, but they are certainly not the greatest needs we have right now.  We need God to work in people's hearts when Charlie preaches.  We need to see Him at work when we're out visiting people.  We need His grace to be evident in our lives.  We need to be faithful testimonies to His power, grace, and love.  In short, we need Him.


Are we nuts?  Psychotic?  Out to lunch?  Unhinged?

The world around us would probably say we are.  If we are, I hope we are crazy enough to believe in our awesome, wonderful God who will take our craziness and use it for His eternal glory.

Simple Questions With Not-so-simple Answers

It's funny how the simplest questions can be hard to answer. 

"Where do you live?"  Right now we are staying with my parents, but is that where we live?  It is, but it's temporary, and it's broken up by trips all over.  Because of our frequent travel, Charlie has sometimes used our license plate number as the answer for that.  While we don't actually live in our car, wherever you find our car, that's where we're staying.

The church we attended Sunday night.

"Where are you from?"  Here in Georgia, we know they are not asking where we live because they can tell by our accents that we are not from around here.  So the easy answer is, "We used to live in Maine."  But in Maine, you're not from Maine unless you've lived there all your life, so we can't claim to be from Maine.  So Charlie sometimes answers Connecticut and then they want to know about me.  As a missionary kid, I don't claim a place to be from, so that's complicated too.  

"Where do you usually attend church?" Often this question is asked when someone observes that we're visitors but they don't know yet that we're missionaries. In order to answer that question, we find we need to explain the work of deputation so they don't assume we're unwilling to settle into a church.

"What is your home church?"  Now that's an easy answer for us, but it is not always understood.  If they haven't asked us a question yet that tells them we lived in Maine last, they expect us to name a church in the immediate vicinity.  When we say, "West Hampden Baptist Church in Hampden, Maine," they often go on to ask, "Yes, but where do you normally attend church here?"  Then we have to explain that our job right now is to visit as many churches as we can, so we don't claim a single church in the area.

"How many children do you have?"  I'm grateful that I didn't have to answer this question every week when the tears of barrenness were close to the surface.  In this age of birth control, it's not enough to say, "We don't have any," but I usually feel a little more explanation is necessary so that it's understood that our lack of children was not our preference but God's design for us.  We love children even though we don't have any of our own.

"Where are you going to be missionaries?"  This is, perhaps, the most difficult question for us.  Most missionaries are identified by which country they serve.  In our case, we will be going to multiple places for short periods of time.  It's not an easy concept to get across.

"What mission are you with?"  Finally, an easy question with an easy answer, but because most people have not heard of our small mission agency, it's not that simple.  As soon as we mention IPM, we've hit a wall because they've never heard of us before.

"How long do you think it will be before you get to go to the field?"  This question usually comes toward the end.  We've already tried to explain our different methodology, so we generally assume that the question they are asking is "When will you finish deputation?"  It's hard to answer that question, especially since our support level is so low right now and part of our job description amounts to perpetual deputation.

There is one question we were recently asked that does have a simple answer. "Why are you doing this?" Because we believe with all our hearts God called us and will provide for us in this ministry.

Do you have a question for us?  Post it here and we'll answer it.

Planting Seeds

As Spring arrives, I start to think in gardening terms. I was thinking the other day of some of the contacts I have made with pastors and churches. They are like seeds in the garden. 

Some will not sprout.  The pastor or church will not choose to have us for a meeting and  will not support us in prayer.

Some will be early crops, like radishes or lettuce. The pastor schedules a meeting right away and we have an immediate opportunity to present our burden.

Some are late crops, like cucumbers or potatoes. We plant the seed and it will yield an opportunity, months later. Some may not bear fruit for years.

Some are “everbearing”.  Some vegetables like zucchini or hot peppers will keep producing as long as the plant lives. Some churches will catch a vision for our ministry and support us in prayer and finances for years to come.

The difference between deputation and a garden is I never know which seeds are of what type. When I plant a radish, I know it will spring up quickly and produce a tasty reward soon after. When I plant a cucumber (in Maine), I know it may not produce before the first frost of Fall. When I contact a church, I never know what the outcome will be. But I do know I need all kinds of plants in my “garden”.  When I plant a garden, I intentionally do not restrict myself to only early crops, or only late crops. I plant a variety of crops so that if some fail my garden is not a total loss. I intentionally plant a variety of crops so the harvest is spread out over a longer season.  I intentionally plant vegetables that must be eaten right away and others that keep well over the winter.  On deputation I trust the Lord will meet my need in the present, as well as the future if I plant the seeds and trust the harvest to Him.

Changes in Raising Support

"Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?  Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?"  Matthew 6:25-26

My first support raising experience was simple.  After I graduated from college, I decided to go work in an orphanage in Mexico.  Most of my daily costs would be covered by living at the orphanage.  I would need money for insurance, food costs on my days out of the orphanage, gas money to travel back and forth to the orphanage in Mexico and the office in Texas, and other miscellaneous expenses.  My home church promised me monthly support as well as several relatives and individuals.  Within a little more than a month, I was ready to go.  I don't think I even had health insurance.

After my two-year commitment there, I resigned and looked for another ministry where God could use me.  God opened the doors to Guatemala.  This time I was asked to raise $400 a month in support.  That sounded like an astounding amount to me after my first experience.  The mission agreed to let me go even though I didn't have that much promised yet, and they would help me find more support after I arrived.  In three months, I was in Guatemala.

When I left Guatemala for the Philippines, my support requirements increased as did my connections.  By the time I left there, though, I was working for a church that gave me a salary and no longer needed monthly support.

This experience is completely different.  Because of overseas travel, medical sharing expenses, and the cost of living, we are being asked to raise a phenomenal amount.  We are hoping to demonstrate that we can live well on a lot less than is recommended, but until we have enough to cover our daily expenses so that we can buy (or rent) a place to live again, we won't know.  We are frugal people.  We don't believe we should be living lavishly.  We want our supporters' money to be well spent in ministry.

My past experiences of raising support were simple.  Raise what you can, go, and expect God to meet the rest.  This time we can't do that.  Although we might end up living abroad, that is not currently the plan.  The current plan is to live in the US and travel to other locations to teach.

I sometimes wonder how in the world we will raise this kind of money.  We're talking more than twelve times what I was asked to raise thirty years ago.  But God is able.  He can either raise that kind of money for us or show us how we can reduce our expenses so that we can live on lots less.  Either way, it will be God who meets our needs.

We would appreciate your prayers for us.  We have had requests to go teach which we have had to turn down because our support isn't high enough yet.  We are currently at 7% of our stated requirements.  In order to accept more teaching engagements, that number needs to come up. 

Our Trip to Florida

The Maces, friends and members of our home church in Maine, invited us to visit them in Florida.  We decided to take them up on the offer and visit churches while we were there.  We drove down on Valentine’s Day and spent the rest of the week there.  On Sunday afternoon, we left the Maces and drove north a couple hours to my cousin’s church for the evening service.  We then spent two nights with an aunt and uncle before driving to Atlanta for the BJU friendship dinner.  We stayed there with my sister so that we could attend a church in Atlanta on Wednesday night, and finally returned home on Thursday.  Altogether, it was a great week that can be summed up in these phrases.

1.       Restful workplaces.  Although we had some work that had to be done, our hosts gave us a very relaxed atmosphere in which to do it.  They have a screened balcony that overlooks a golf course.  It was the best “office” we could have had.  From there we answered mail, made phone calls, and enjoyed the fresh breeze and beautiful scenery.  Then, at my aunt and uncle’s home, the dining room became my “office”.  From there I could see the sun shining on the water of the lake behind their house and watch alligator bask in the sun.

2.       Daily exercise.  Florida temperatures made neighborhood or beach walks possible every day.  Jogging was on the agenda several times.  One day we went to the weight room.  Swimming would have been possible, but after a walk on the beach, a pool seemed small and the bay felt cold.

3.       Good church contacts.  We visited a number of churches, one of which looks like it will schedule us for a meeting. 

4.       Delicious food.  I think I gained more than five pounds in that one week.  The food was great, and there was always more of it than I needed.  I discovered that I like sweet potato soup (yummy!), orange swirl ice cream, and watermelon chunks as an evening snack. 

5.       Reconnecting with missionaries.  Our church has supported Margaret Holmes-Gualtieri for years.  Now she is retired and living in Bradenton.  One afternoon we drove over to see her and meet her husband, Art.  They invited us in and showed us around the village where they live.  During that time, I got to see my childhood hero, Pat Filmore, for the first time in more than forty years.  Pat was a missionary nurse in a remote tribe in the highlands of Papua, Indonesia.  As a child, she was my hero, and I wanted to be a missionary nurse because of her.  (High school chemistry convinced me otherwise.)

6.       Christian relatives.  One of the joys of getting together with my family is the bond we share as Christians.  Charlie and my uncle spent hours discussing various issues.  It was also great to hear how the Lord is using their retirement years as they invest dozens of hours every week in helping others.

7.       Unexpected blessings.  A pastor offered to have us come back for a meeting.  One night we walked into a church, and found they were having a special guest:  Dr. Bob Jones III.   I met a woman who was a toddler the last time I saw her in Indonesia.  I had just put a hole in a pair of jeans, and my aunt gave me a new pair. 

Altogether it was a great week, and we're thankful for all the people who made it special for us.

Divine Appointments

As we continue in our deputation ministry I am amazed at the many times it is obvious, to me at least,  the Lord has scheduled an appointment for me.  I only need to be faithful in fulfilling the appointment. The other day Joan and I went out to try to catch some pastors in their studies and talk with them. On our first visit we found the pastor in, willing to speak to us, knowledgeable about IPM and open to the possibility of our presenting our ministry at the church. We found a man we knew from Maine standing in the office.  He is a part of the ministry of the church. We did not know what we would find, but God had set up a divine appointment.

“ Ah,” you say, “what of your other visits that day?” They did not go as well.  One flat turn down, one offer to give our prayer card to the Missions Committee and one conversation with a pastor who did not seem overly interested. “It was only the luck of the draw, pure chance!,” you say.  I believe it was a divine appointment, and so were the others. I cannot see the results of any of the visits yet.  I can only be faithful to take the opportunities the Lord gives me and use them to minister to the churches and people He places in my life, divine appointments, for His glory!

Madawaska and Back

We left Searsport on a cloudy morning and began the long drive up to Madawaska, ME, the northernmost point in the state.  This was the furthest north I had been in Maine, and I was surprised to pass through the Maine woods and arrive in rolling hills of farmlands, stretching as far as the eye could see. ( I tried to take a picture of that, but my camera didn't do it justice. For those of you who haven't travelled to northern Maine but have been through upstate New York or through the farmlands of Pennsylvania, it is similar.) 

Did you know that the distance from Madawaska to Kittery, the southernmost point in Maine, is about the same as the distance from Kittery to Delaware? Unlike most other New England states, Maine is large, but relatively uninhabited. Only a little more than a million people live in this state.  

Our very comfortable bed while we were there.

The view of Madawaska from our bedroom.

We had a wonderful time with the people of Madawaska Gospel Church. The family who hosted us gave us a comfortable room with such a comfortable bed that I awoke for the first time in a long time without my usual aches and pains.  The people of the church welcomed us warmly and let us feel like family.

On Monday morning before we left, our host took us to see a few sights.  This park is dedicated to the bikers who have travelled to the four corners of the USA.  While it was interesting to see where people had come from,It also had an impressive view of the St. John River Valley and the Canadian city of Edmonston.  The brick walkway listed the names and accomplishments of those who wished to be remembered here.

It's not easy to see as my camera is not great, but there was a beautiful rainbow in the fountain.

It's not every day you get to drive through the solar system.

On the way home, we passed through a replica of our solar system.  The sun is on the campus of the University of Maine at Presque Isle.  Each of the planets is in the right place from the sun on a scale of 1:93,000,000 along Route 1.  Many of them were too small to make a good picture.  We zipped by earth without noticing it and had to turn around to see it.  Saturn and Jupiter, however, could be seen from a long distance away.  Pluto, though no longer considered a planet, was on display on the wall of the Houlton Visitor's Center. 

How much I love that God gave us eyes to see His beauty. 

This coming Sunday we're speaking close to home.  We like those trips too, not because of the scenery which we have seen many times before, but because of all the wonderful people we get to meet.

Stepping Back in Time

The sun was setting, throwing a pale orange glow across the blue-gray sky as we drove into the gravel parking lot.  The sign next to the white clad board country church announced that the service began at 7:00.  We were almost a half hour early, so we pulled in next to the two parked cars and sat in the car and chatted about our day.  After about ten minutes, a pickup truck arrived, driven by a bearded man in a sport coat and tie.  I had not met him before, but Charlie recognized him immediately as the pastor of the church.

Pastor jumped out of his truck and opened my door for me, introducing himself and welcoming me to his church.  His wife came around the vehicle.  Holding out her hand, she said, “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met.” 

After introductions, we crossed the parking lot, and walked up the wooden handicap ramp to the front door.  Crossing the threshold, we entered the century-old auditorium.  Two young women were at the piano practicing a duet.  No one else had arrived yet, but soon a middle aged woman arrived with four attractive teenage girls behind her.  They chose seats in the back row of the 50-seat room.  Two of them plopped down and re-entered the world of their Christian novels while their sisters chatted.

Soon a woman, her shining gray hair streaming past her shoulders, walked in with a roll of fabric tucked under one arm.  When the singers finished practicing, they descended the platform to talk with her.  She unrolled the material.  Inside was a quilted lime green table runner with appliquéd purple butterflies.  I joined the trio to admire the piece and listened to their comments.

“I’m going to teach this young woman to quilt,” she told me, “so I’ve been bringing this table runner in to show her the various stages so she will know what it’s like.”  I smiled and added a comment about the simple beauty of the piece.

Just then a family of four arrived.  Charlie had met them, so he introduced me.  I stood beside them, admiring their baby daughter as they talked. 

“Here comes Father Abraham,” someone said laughing as a balding man with reddish hair walked in carrying a baby carrier.  Behind him, his wife and four other children followed.   “Father Abraham” put the carrier on one of the seats and turned to talk to the pastor.  I peeked into the carrier to see a little boy beginning to fuss.  His mom was engaged in conversation.  So was his dad.  They had not heard him yet.  Quickly determining that it would not scare his mother, I bent over the carrier, unsnapped the harness and lifted him to my chest.  Soon he was snuggling against me. 

The baby’s mom turned and saw me. 

“You don’t have to hold him,” she said.  “I can take him.”

“No, please don’t” I responded.  “I don’t get to hold babies often enough.”

Before long the pastor ascended the platform, and everyone took their seats – infants to elderly all in the same room doing the same thing.  We sang.  We prayed.  We sang some more.  When the singing ended, I handed my precious bundle back to his mom.  The pastor announced the young adult activity for the weekend:  chopping and stacking wood for one of the elderly men in the congregation.  We bowed our heads to pray, and the pastor dropped to one knee by a chair on the platform and prayed aloud for the needs of the people.  Then he preached a sermon on the need for repentance in the presentation of the gospel.

When the service was over, we stood around and talked.  Charlie's friend took a pistol out of its holster to show to Charlie, and then reached into his wife’s handbag and pulled out a revolver.  I looked over Charlie’s shoulder, listening to the men talk about the merits of each one.  The pastor's wife joined us. 

“Do you have a concealed carry permit?” she asked me. 

“No,” I replied, briefly explaining.

When our conversation died down, we walked out from the brightly-lit auditorium into the darkness.  Laughing voices followed us, and I turned and looked back.  For just a brief moment, I thought I would see women in Victorian dresses getting into horse-drawn carriages because for that brief hour, I had been part of a community church where people were ready to support each other and leave their worries and masks behind, just as I imagined they had done a hundred years ago.

As we drove home, I wondered if we would ever encounter another church like it – a church where there is no nursery so families worship together, teens do ministry for their fun activity of the week, a mother willingly lets a stranger hold her eight-week old baby, and people share their everyday lives in the sanctuary. 

Did anyone say, “Little House in the Big Wood?”  I think I was there.