Decorating for a Missions Conference

I walked in.  The signs were everywhere. The missions committee in this church had done an excellent job of alerting the people to what was going on during missions conference. 

I expected to see the flags in the sanctuary.  That idea is fairly standard for missions conferences.  In this church, those flags hang only during missions conference, so it is an immediate visual cue that missions conference has begun.

Signs greeted you on the stairs.  It would be very hard to miss them.  I overheard people trying to pronounce the strange words of the people groups as they climbed.


This sign was everywhere.  It became very clear that the theme for this year’s missions conference was reaching the least reached. There were signs on the ceiling and high on the walls – in places that would be very hard to reach.  All over the church, the signs got people thinking about the “least reached”.



A bulletin board gave locations of various unreached or “least reached” people groups.





A poster gave detailed information and statistics on various unreached people groups in the world.

The overhead was in use to announce the various upcoming activities. This one caught my attention.  Yum!

This was a church we were just visiting, so we were not one of the invited speakers.  It was very encouraging to us to see this church doing what it could to reach the world.

Combating Negativity

Negative ads abound.  The other candidate can’t do the job as well as my candidate can.  The other will fail.  The other doesn’t have a positive track record.  He lies.  Etc., etc.  That doesn’t bother me when I see it on an ad or a political campaign. They know the American public responds well to negative publicity.  If they want to win, they believe its their job to churn out lots of negative information about the other candidate on the air waves.  Those don’t bother me.

However, when I hear negative talk coming from Christians, it bothers me a lot.  Lately, I’ve been hearing a lot of complaining.  We complain about the state of our country.  We complain about the political process.  We gripe about supreme court decisions and about supreme court justices.  We grumble about our president, senators and congressmen.  We whine about the lack of family values in our country.  In other words, we murmur and complain and we do it a lot. 

What happened to Christians who pray and keep themselves from speaking ill of others?

We also criticize.  I am not talking about constructive criticism, nor am I talking about pointing out things that are important for guarding our hearts against lies and sin.  Instead, I am talking about the mean-spirited jokes and mocking of those for whom we are supposed to pray.  We’re commanded to pray for those in authority over us and even for those who despitefully use us.  Instead we ridicule and vilify those with whom we disagree.  Have we become just like the world around us?  Is there no difference?

Instead of being people of joy, peace, patience, gentleness, and love, we have gotten caught up in a world of negativity.  No wonder we’re not making much of an impact.  No wonder we don’t shine like lights in the world (Phil. 2:14-15). 

So for the rest of the political season and beyond, I want to be a person of prayer – someone who will pray instead of criticize and rejoice instead of grumbling.  I want to be a light in this dark world.

Will you join me?

Our Maine Bag

Every once in a while we are really touched by a special approach to missionary care.  This past weekend we were in our home church, West Hampden Baptist Church.  Several years ago while we were still there, they began a tradition that is still going on.  The church collected Maine-made items for a “Maine Bag”.  This bag is always presented to the missionary wife, if she is present.  So it was my privilege to receive the Maine bag at the ladies’ lunch and to bring it “home” to show Charlie.

Inside the bag were all sorts of treats.  All of the treats are made in Maine. It was obvious to me that care went into selecting the items.  We do not have a house, so it is entirely appropriate for us that most of the items in the bag are expendable.  In fact, for most missionaries on home assignment, the same holds true.  I know that each missionary’s bag will vary depending on what the church collected, but here is what ours contained.  (In the picture, I’m starting at the back and then going left to right with each “row”.)

1. An L. L. Bean tote bag was used as the container.
2. “Bob’s Sugarhouse” Maple Barbecue Seasoning.
3. Balsam Fir lotion
4. Capt’n Eli’s root beer
5. A “Maine” embroidered kitchen towel.
6. Sitting on that is a little knitted holder for a hand sanitizer.
7. Beddington Ridge Farm’s wild blueberry jam.
8. Stonewall Kitchen’s roasted garlic mustard.
9. Stonewall Kitchen’s maple pumpkin butter.
10. Down to Earth Pottery’s soap dish
11. Cape Shore’s Sea Lavender scented soap
12. Carol’s Country Crafts’ quilted coasters
13. Bluehill Spoonworks’ wooden spreader
14. Two handpainted notecards (not pictured).

What I love about this bag is that everything came from Maine.  That makes it unique and a great reminder to me of this church.  Most of the things will be used up rather quickly and we will thoroughly enjoy them..  The soap dish and the tea towel, however, will make their way into a storage box to wait until the day that we can unpack our storage locker and move into a house.  Since we do not have a house right now, the edible nature of most of these items is very appreciated.  We still need to eat, even though we don’t have a house. 

Thank you, West Hampden, for your care for us and other missionaries as well.  Thank you for loving us and caring for us.

The Invisible Ones

I walked in the front door.  I didn’t notice it at first, but then slowly it sank in.  This is a really clean facility. 

I began to take notice of the things I didn’t notice at first.  The shining woodwork.  The vacuum patterns in the rugs and carpets.  The view through the glass windows and doors, undisturbed by smudges and fingerprints.  The lingering smell of Lysol in the bathroom.  The polished tiles in the fellowship hall.  There were places I didn’t go, like the kitchen.  But I knew, based on the rest of the building, that I could trust the cleanliness there too.

Then I noticed something else.  Everything worked.  No “out of order” signs attached to bathroom stalls.  Doors swung quietly on their hinges.  No lights were out.  The temperature was comfortable.

Today I celebrate you:  the people whose ministry in their church is cleaning and maintenance.  You are the invisible ones.  No one notices you until you fail to do your ministry.  As long as things are clean and working on Sunday mornings, people do not really notice.  They take you for granted.  They do not know that you took hours out of your busy week to show up at church when no one was there to clean bathrooms, vacuum carpets, wash floors, and replenish supplies.  Probably no one thanked you.  Yet you remained faithful.

No one knows how many cobwebs you wiped away that week or how many smudges you cleaned off the glass.  No one counted how many weeds you pulled from the flower beds.  No one counted how many dish towels you took home to wash after the last church dinner.  No one saw how many coffee spills and muddy footprints you washed off the floor.  You simply did it because it was your ministry.

 

Today I salute you, the invisible ministers in the church.  Thank you for all you do.  Without you, the rest of us would be distracted on Sundays by the things you made disappear during the week.  You are a blessing.  Thank you.

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.