August 2008 - Posts
I made it to Mali safe with all of my luggage! These are the cool months, so when I landed around 10:30pm the temperature was in the 90s. But the trip was uneventful, which is always a blessing. Tomorrow I will be going to the village for the rest of my time here and therefore will not have internet until I get back to Bamako or the States. So, I will journal my experience and then release short blogs in a series when I am back in the States to let you experience the trip as well.
For prayer:
I recently found out that chicken pox are running rampant in the village I am going to. This shouldn't be a problem, except that I have never had chicken pox and could not get the vaccination while in the States. So, please pray that I do not get African chicken pox. I want to experience as much of Africa as I can, but that is not one of them.
Also, pray that God would confirm whether or not Mali is the place where He would allow Justin, Leah, and I to serve in missions.
1. I received my visa for Mali, so the only thing left is for me to get on the plane. Praise God!
2. I am back at Liberty University in Lynchburg, VA safe and sound, but please continue to pray for me as I fly out to Mali Aug. 24 – Sep. 11. Then I fly to Denver, CO Sep. 13-20.
3. It has been wonderful to see how God is working across this country and around the world! I had the privilege of speaking in the church I grew up in, Lakewood Baptist Church in Gainesville, GA, and my Aunt’s church, Towne Baptist Church in Joppa, MD. I was so encouraged to see and hear the vision that these two churches have for their community and the world. At Towne Baptist, I was able to watch their baptism service and rejoice with them for how God is changing lives in their community.
The reason why I am going to Mali for 17 days is for a couple of reasons. The first is to really seek God for confirmation in Justin, Leah, and myself serving in Mali for career missions. The second is to see and experience the people, culture, and living conditions that the team will experience and to photograph all of it. I can’t wait to go and I know I won’t want to leave, but God has given me this next year at Liberty University. I am excited to look back and see why God has kept me at LU.
Looking back and seeing God’s hand encourages me to run forward. I may only have light enough to see my next step, but when I look back and see God’s faithfulness, I know that He is setting my paths straight before me (even if I can’t see it). God has given me a vision to see the church grow among the Senoufo and I know that He is preparing me to see that vision fulfilled! What a day it will be when I can shake hands with the very first believer among the unreached dialect of Senoufo Justin, Leah, and I will go to. That will be a day of rejoicing the world has never known!
This past weekend I took a great road trip with my Dad. It was good quality time with Dad, even if he did have to stop every two hours, haha. Dad flew out to Denver on Friday and I took him up Mt. Evans, which is 14, 200ish feet tall. The Rockies are a truly beautiful masterpiece of an Almighty creator. On Saturday we drove from Denver to Chicago, all 17 hours. There really is nothing to look at in the mid-west, except for miles and miles and states of corn. Dad fell asleep at one point crossing through Nebraska or Iowa and when he came too I said, “Look Dad! Corn.” Which he replied sarcastically, “Thanks Bear. Don’t wana miss that.” And then we had a good laugh that was quickly gone with the approach of yet another corn field. Don’t get me wrong. I’m very appreciative of our “bread basket of the world,” but the view isn’t very stimulating when you have been driving past it for 10 hours.
Saturday night we stayed in a very plush 4 star hotel thanks to naming your own price at Priceline.com. In fact, it was so plush that we had to pay to park at the hotel. We woke up the next morning and headed for Cincinnati. One of my childhood heroes growing up was Ken Griffey Jr., so I had gotten really good tickets to live the “American pastime:” watching a baseball game with my Dad, eating a hotdog the size of a Dachshund, washing it down with a cold beer. BUT, two weeks before Dad and I were to see Griffey at Reds’ stadium, they traded him. Despite the sad circumstances, Dad and I had a wonderful time at the game, mainly because it was with Dad.
Then we ate Skyline, which is Cincinnati chili. To describe Skyline, it is heaven loaded on a plate of spaghetti and topped with finely shredded cheddar cheese, drizzled with Texas Pete hot sauce, and a side of oyster crackers, creating a combination of exuberant joy for your mouth. After Skyline we stayed with Justin Conley’s Grandparents and Mum and had a beautiful time with them, before waking up and heading to the ATL (Atlanta).
It was a great experience with Dad, but this trip also marked the beginning of a lot of travelling for me. This weekend I am speaking at a breakfast in Baltimore, and then Aug. 24th I fly out to Mali for 17 days. Once I get back from Mali Sep. 11th, I am flying out to Denver for a coach’s retreat with WorldVenture. So I could use prayer for:
1. That my visa for Mali is processed and returned before I leave for Mali (I couldn’t apply for it until I returned from Mozambique since I needed my passport).
2. Safe travels these next two months.
3. That God would arrange the people I am to meet with to financially partner with me in reaching Mali.
I want to say thank you to those of you who are keeping up with my ramblings (even if they do sound more like adds for Starbucks then missions work) and if you would like too, these entries are equipped for you to leave comments, which I will respond to. Thank you again.
I was sitting at Starbucks, reading an intriguing book, saddened that I just drank the last drop of my venti 2 pump caramel macchiato, when I noticed a sight that pained me to see. Crossing the street were 2 mums dragging their toddlers attached to leashes. This sight pained me because it brought back the horrific memories of my leash days. Yes, I was a leash kid (insert sad face here). I could relate to the scars that these children would have growing up. I wanted to scream out, “Free the leash kids!” But I decided against it since there was a cute girl sitting 2 tables away.
I started thinking about the leash kids (I know my mind works in weird ways) and the thought hit me that really, all of humanity are leash kids. We are all being lead by some influence, bound by that higher authority or perceived higher authority. (And if you don’t think that you are a leash kid in this way then you are the leash kid with the blind fold on, blinded to the fact that you are being lead by something, which is even worse; a leash kid that doesn’t know they are a leash kid.)
The question isn’t “Are we leash kids?” but “Who is leading us leash kids?”
We are all being lead, so we must discover who is leading us. Of course I would want to say that Jesus has the end of the leash and is leading me to still waters and good pasture, but in reality, that isn’t always true. Media could hold the leash or the next new thing we strive for or a fad or a person that we allow to lead us or any number of things that take the place of Christ, leading us in all sorts of directions except down the narrow way of God.
I had a meeting with a guy who has spent his life discussing and studying the “heart” of himself and others. He says that we need to discover the landscape of our hearts and deal with the sewage ponds that are more than likely there. This is a new journey for me because I never really have stopped long enough to even discuss my heart let alone take a look at it, so I decided to start on this journey of discovering the landscape of my heart. And at this point you are probably thinking why I am writing this, but the above leash kids triggered a look into my heart. You see, I have done a lot of ministry in my short 22 years of existence. I have practically been around the globe doing things for God, so it would appear on the outside that I am being lead by God, but after seeing those poor little leash kids, I had to truly ask myself if what I have done and what I am doing is the leading of Christ or something else or myself. That is a tough question to wrestle with when you have run out of your venti 2 pump caramel macchiato.
In looking back, I know that some relationships I have been in was not the leading of God, or at least how I acted in them, but some were orchestrated by God Himself. For the most part, the ministries I have been in, was the tugging of God, using the gifts He had given me to fulfill His purposes, even if I did find my identity in the ministry rather than God (which was a tough lesson to learn). And I am absolutely convinced that He is the holder of the leash on the path of church planting in Mali that I find myself on now. I am sure that the world has distractions for me along the way, to tug at the leash, but I know that I must stay true to the path that the Lord Himself is leading me on, no matter how rocky or hard I may find it. The Lord may even lead me to my death, but it would be for His glory since He is the holder of the leash. A lot of people are being lead to a very sad death because they are being lead by sin, even in ministry. I don’t want to get into the choice debate, but I do think that in some small way we do have a choice in who leads us, because we are all being lead. So, who has the end of your leash?
By the simple fact that I am at a Starbucks, frustrated that I don’t have any more of my venti 2 pump caramel macchiato, should tell you that I am back in the States after a wonderful time in Mozambique. It was a joy to serve alongside of the team, as well as, the Schmidts, the Flurrys, and the Thorps. The wisdom I was able to glean from these 3 missionary families will impact my life and ministry for decades to come. Thank you to all of you who prayed and gave financially to the Lord and allowed me to serve in Mozambique. You have touched more lives than you can ever know.
How can a person go from shutting off their heart one moment and exposing it the next, within the course of 24 hours?
Yesterday part of the team and I went to an AIDS orphanage ran by catholic nuns in the same order as Mother Teresa. On the drive over I thought about how I would react to playing with a bunch of kids who more than likely will not be living this time next year due to AIDS. I thought I would weep or be moved in an unprecedented spiritual way, but as I walked into the first room of toddlers, the emotions of my heart were shut off as I picked up a little boy with a plump belly and an apprehensive gaze in his eyes. I was not moved to tears and in fact, I didn’t even think about it. I just played and loved, which were the only 2 things I could do. I would be useless to the children and the nuns if I became a blubbering idiot. But when I was able to rock a little girl to sleep (which her face looked exactly like Whoopie Goldberg), I made eternal significance in that little girl’s life. I became the loving arms of Jesus to that little girl. I became the physical manifestation of what dwells within me, flowing with compassion and joy to that little girl; until I put her down and then the sinful wrath of a 2 year old’s selfishness erupted like Mt. Saint Helens. Because these kids have AIDS, they will never be adopted and will remain in the orphanage the rest of their lives, which typically is very short.
That night the team debriefed the whole orphanage experience at a local pizza house/ coffee place (which they apparently ran out of coffee, so JJ and I got the only thing left: a double shot of espresso. Typically coffee is a good thing, but as the “coffee” touched my taste buds, my taste buds started to commit suicide in my mouth. It was the worst coffee experience ever. So note to self, next time a place says that they are out of regular coffee, just get water!) There was a consensus of helplessness and getting peed on from the team experience at the orphanage. We then walked backed to where we are staying, or at least tried to.
Half way on our journey a policeman started to walk with me in the back of the group and made small talk in his very broken English. You see, the police are starting to crack down on non-Mozambique tourist to make sure they have their passport (a lot behind this as to why). But in our group we only carry our copies, not the originals, which are ok, but a couple in our group had lost their copies. So, I made small talk with this policeman until he said it. “Passport.” I cringed, thinking of how far we were from our Oasis and a person that actually could translate. So I acted as if I didn’t understand and we kept walking. Again, “Passports.” I took out my copies and gave them to him as we continued to inch closer to our house. He then points to the group, “Passports.” Again I played dumb American as I could see our house a block away. The policeman then swings his, what looked like a compact AK-47, to his belly and said, “Passports!” Instantly I stopped the team and told them to get their passport copies out, knowing that at least one didn’t have hers. We tried to communicate, but to no avail. During the conversation we were able to get them walking again. I was crossing the road to ring the doorbell just on the other side of the street from where we were staying, when the 2 policemen started screaming at me. I didn’t know how far to push their patience so I took a few more steps reaching the other curb. Screaming and hand waving broke out like 2 birds warning a group of danger. So I turned and walked back across the street. We were finally able to get our host at the house to come translate and the policemen let us go free, but he had already called the police car to come get us. God provides in His timing!
Today we did a VBS at a local neighbourhood that Roger and Lynn have been working in for some time now. At first, 1 kid showed up. So, Roger told us and some Portuguese speakers to go draw the kids in. All of a sudden our little VBS turned into a community event with around 300 kids, parents, and teenagers. It was crazy to see them come in droves. The director of the local school even brought his entire school. The director of the school is a wonderfully nice man, who does not even have a college education. The school ends at 5th grade and less than 1% of all Mozambique people go on to more schooling, mainly because they cannot afford the uniforms, workbooks, etc. that are required to attend more schooling. Even most of the teachers are trying to finish their high school education. It was a great time to open my heart to these kids in song and dance and games. This was a huge encouragement to Roger and Lynn and the team, especially after being at the orphanage.
God is so faithful and good!
Tomorrow we are going to Kruger Park to get the full Lion King wildlife experience. This will also be a great time for the team to rest and reflect on this past week.
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