I took a moment to stop and try and remember my password as I logged in to create this post. The last post here was from November 2nd. Now almost two months later I look back at the countries and places I've been since then.
This is just a simple Merry Christmas wish to all of you. Hoping that time with family and friends is well spent. Don't eat too much, don't drink and drive, give someone a hug, be nice and go on a mission's trip this next year. Who knows what might happen.
Merry Christmas and have a safe and Happy New Year.
12.25.2006
11.02.2006
Seeing you work
Knowing that time is somewhat relative in certain parts of the world, and knowing we had to be back to our guest house before 6pm or the nuns would lock the door and give us all a switching and send us to bed without dinner; we decided to start the film at 4pm. This gave us about two hours to finish the fifty minute film and still be able to tear down and make the 20 minute drive.
We set-up the screen and projector around 2:30pm and of course our van full of American kids drew the expected crowd of people who I still haven’t figured out where they must be going, but they always stop and just stare. I guess wherever they were going wasn’t that important anyway.
So we tell the crowd that at 4pm we’ll start the film, they scatter to run home or on their way. The van takes the team back to the guesthouse and I am left with two nationals at the empty church to wait for the crowds. I suppose I didn’t know what to expect really, the church sat empty, quiet and still during the next moments. I had a few minutes to read so I got out my most recent book and began reading again about the “call” to missions that some people must have and others must not.
It always bugged me hearing people say they were called to one place or the other, I remember hearing all sorts of missionaries and people saying they received the call of God to missions when they were whatever age. I don’t discount that or doubt that it’s probably happened. Maybe I just feel left out sometimes that I’ve never experienced something like that. Did I miss the phone call? Maybe I haven’t checked my email recently. Or maybe it’s that the call comes, but there’s too many other voices that drown out His voice.
Then I continued reading about how missions is somewhat unevenly balanced. There are hundreds of churches and missionaries in lots of countries, except where they are needed the most. We send groups and teams to all sorts of countries that already have established churches and heavy populations of Christians. The goal of missions should be to bring in new cultures and people groups to worshipping God. Missions exists in the world today because worship of Him does not. What am I doing today that will bring about Christ’s return to the earth?
So at about ten ‘til four I looked out again across the empty room, I guess we’ll be missing dinner tonight if we’re going to have to wait for people to show up. I suppose even if just a few people come, that’s who God wanted to be there.
Then I looked out through the barred glassless windows, and here they came. Just a handful at first, the school kids came running barefooted along the dusty road; it’s that same red dirt that I’ve been trying desperately to scrub out of my t-shirts. They came running towards the church some carrying schoolbooks and some Books of Hope. A few stood at the door, the pastor waved them in and they raced for the front seats. That’s not bad I thought, we’ve got about thirty kids who’ll be… then more came, and more, and more. The boys all wearing tan shirts, the girls all wearing blue dresses, all school uniforms. Their teachers had not only dismissed them a little early, they had also accompanied many of them to the church. The room soon began to fill with noise and smells and sights of hundreds of children’s faces and feet and hands and the empty quiet of the church was replaced by a joyful expectancy of the unknown. Their eyes locked onto the big white screen in front of them as the images flashed.
I watched God work tonight, I saw Him fill a room full to overflowing, I saw Him bring kids and adults to the windows of the church to watch a film about the greatest love story ever written. I saw children shocked at how Jesus was treated; I heard them cheer when the tomb was found empty. Over 1200 people were at the church tonight, over 1200 kids were told in their language that God loves them and can be their father. I watched God work.
This evening I watched the sunset over the Rwanda countryside. It blazed its reds, oranges and yellows across the deepening blue sky. Clouds showed off their form under the colors. I sat and realized that it will never set on this day again, ever. The sun will only rise once a day and set once that same day, never to happen again. During those twelve hours what did I do with my time? Did I value the moments I was able to tell the children that they are valued and loved? Did I make the most of every moment? Did I answer the “call” to missions and follow God’s leading?
I want to go where there is no guarantee of success. I want to make a trail where there is none, I want to see God work where our human means fail. I want to learn to not even try my own ways, but to trust to His. I want to see You work.
Thanks for reading.
We set-up the screen and projector around 2:30pm and of course our van full of American kids drew the expected crowd of people who I still haven’t figured out where they must be going, but they always stop and just stare. I guess wherever they were going wasn’t that important anyway.
So we tell the crowd that at 4pm we’ll start the film, they scatter to run home or on their way. The van takes the team back to the guesthouse and I am left with two nationals at the empty church to wait for the crowds. I suppose I didn’t know what to expect really, the church sat empty, quiet and still during the next moments. I had a few minutes to read so I got out my most recent book and began reading again about the “call” to missions that some people must have and others must not.
It always bugged me hearing people say they were called to one place or the other, I remember hearing all sorts of missionaries and people saying they received the call of God to missions when they were whatever age. I don’t discount that or doubt that it’s probably happened. Maybe I just feel left out sometimes that I’ve never experienced something like that. Did I miss the phone call? Maybe I haven’t checked my email recently. Or maybe it’s that the call comes, but there’s too many other voices that drown out His voice.
Then I continued reading about how missions is somewhat unevenly balanced. There are hundreds of churches and missionaries in lots of countries, except where they are needed the most. We send groups and teams to all sorts of countries that already have established churches and heavy populations of Christians. The goal of missions should be to bring in new cultures and people groups to worshipping God. Missions exists in the world today because worship of Him does not. What am I doing today that will bring about Christ’s return to the earth?
So at about ten ‘til four I looked out again across the empty room, I guess we’ll be missing dinner tonight if we’re going to have to wait for people to show up. I suppose even if just a few people come, that’s who God wanted to be there.
Then I looked out through the barred glassless windows, and here they came. Just a handful at first, the school kids came running barefooted along the dusty road; it’s that same red dirt that I’ve been trying desperately to scrub out of my t-shirts. They came running towards the church some carrying schoolbooks and some Books of Hope. A few stood at the door, the pastor waved them in and they raced for the front seats. That’s not bad I thought, we’ve got about thirty kids who’ll be… then more came, and more, and more. The boys all wearing tan shirts, the girls all wearing blue dresses, all school uniforms. Their teachers had not only dismissed them a little early, they had also accompanied many of them to the church. The room soon began to fill with noise and smells and sights of hundreds of children’s faces and feet and hands and the empty quiet of the church was replaced by a joyful expectancy of the unknown. Their eyes locked onto the big white screen in front of them as the images flashed.
I watched God work tonight, I saw Him fill a room full to overflowing, I saw Him bring kids and adults to the windows of the church to watch a film about the greatest love story ever written. I saw children shocked at how Jesus was treated; I heard them cheer when the tomb was found empty. Over 1200 people were at the church tonight, over 1200 kids were told in their language that God loves them and can be their father. I watched God work.
This evening I watched the sunset over the Rwanda countryside. It blazed its reds, oranges and yellows across the deepening blue sky. Clouds showed off their form under the colors. I sat and realized that it will never set on this day again, ever. The sun will only rise once a day and set once that same day, never to happen again. During those twelve hours what did I do with my time? Did I value the moments I was able to tell the children that they are valued and loved? Did I make the most of every moment? Did I answer the “call” to missions and follow God’s leading?
I want to go where there is no guarantee of success. I want to make a trail where there is none, I want to see God work where our human means fail. I want to learn to not even try my own ways, but to trust to His. I want to see You work.
Thanks for reading.
9.21.2006
Driving the N1
Groblersdal. I think no matter how you spell it the spell-check is going to tell you it’s wrong so I should just get used to the red squiggly line underneath it. We’ve been here about three days and already it’s challenged so much of my thinking and my understanding of misunderstanding. We took the N4 highway from Rustenburg to Pretoria then switched to the N1 heading south to Johannesburg and then returned to the N4 to get here.
We are in a North-eastern province. The city of Groblahblahblah isn’t actually where we’re working. Instead it’s where we’re basing ourselves at for the next few days. Each morning we drive about an hour north into a somewhat remote and poor area of South Africa. It was here that our minds were twisted with the questions the students were asking.
I’ve been in thousands of schools in over twenty different nations. Usually when we open up to questions you get a few of the normal things about where we’re from, what kind of food do we like, what we think of their country and sometimes even what our thoughts are about the women in their country... that’s always an interesting one to try to answer.
This class of fourteen and fifteen year olds in a village school went straight to the point. No formalities about our lives or anything. We had finished a traditional presentation telling them they are valuable and they really need to consider the choices they are making regarding relationships. After our presentation we had a few minutes so we asked if anyone had any questions. Honestly I didn’t really expect any, the students are usually very shy and embarrassed to ask anything in front of their peers. They will usually shy away from trying to speak a language that isn’t theirs or they’re not comfortable with. Then it came, in English, right from the back, a young girl wearing a blue school uniform; she shot straight to the point when she asked whether a condom is 100% effective against preventing AIDS. Why couldn’t they ask about our thoughts of politics?
We answered the question with the limited HIV/AIDS information we’d learned in grade school. Anyone else with a question? Hoping in our minds that the subject had passed we were slightly more prepared for the next volley. “How exactly does someone get AIDS?” “Do you get AIDS from giving someone a hug?” “If I’ve had sex with my boyfriend using a condom is it still possible to get AIDS?” “Are the condoms they sell in the store more effective than the ones I get for free from the clinic?” “Do I get AIDS by eating food someone else with AIDS has eaten?”
Our minds are spinning with the reality that we’ve just entered. Not only do these kids not really have any idea about AIDS, they really don’t have ANY possible way to find the truth about it. We were some of the first people to speak to these High School kids who’ve probably been sexually active since they were about twelve years old. Not only do these kids not have any possible way to find the truth about AIDS, there’s nothing really being done to help them. As you’re driving around you may see helpful signs saying “Be wise, condomize” or “Practice safe sex, use a condom” but no one is doing anything more to help prevent this disease. Not only are people not helping them in any way, but even the people who should be helping them are totally confused about it as well. As we answered the kids questions the teachers as well sat there listening. Who will tell these kids the truth?
I realized that day that the limited information I had from grade school or high school was more information than these kids may ever be exposed to. They are living in darkness. They are living under a veil that has covered their eyes to the truth that there is a danger and their lives do matter enough for them to chose life over death. But who will tell them?
Yesterday I was shocked at how little is being done and how little these kids know about a disease that is destroying their nation. Confusion, anger and desperation set into my spirit. It tears my heart knowing that these kids have bought into lies they’ve been told.
Yesterday, in a high school of about twelve hundred students- learners as they call them here- we told them. And we gave each of them a book that explained the truth about AIDS and how it’s spread. We told them of their value to God and how they can choose to make positive choices, they are worth saving themselves. We told them.
Yesterday I told a group of high school students that condoms don’t prevent AIDS, I told them to wait until marriage, I told them God loves them and values them. I told them you don’t get AIDS from hugging someone or shaking their hand.
Today someone told me that it’s likely that every one of those kids has HIV/AIDS. Yesterday came too late for many of them.
We are in a North-eastern province. The city of Groblahblahblah isn’t actually where we’re working. Instead it’s where we’re basing ourselves at for the next few days. Each morning we drive about an hour north into a somewhat remote and poor area of South Africa. It was here that our minds were twisted with the questions the students were asking.
I’ve been in thousands of schools in over twenty different nations. Usually when we open up to questions you get a few of the normal things about where we’re from, what kind of food do we like, what we think of their country and sometimes even what our thoughts are about the women in their country... that’s always an interesting one to try to answer.
This class of fourteen and fifteen year olds in a village school went straight to the point. No formalities about our lives or anything. We had finished a traditional presentation telling them they are valuable and they really need to consider the choices they are making regarding relationships. After our presentation we had a few minutes so we asked if anyone had any questions. Honestly I didn’t really expect any, the students are usually very shy and embarrassed to ask anything in front of their peers. They will usually shy away from trying to speak a language that isn’t theirs or they’re not comfortable with. Then it came, in English, right from the back, a young girl wearing a blue school uniform; she shot straight to the point when she asked whether a condom is 100% effective against preventing AIDS. Why couldn’t they ask about our thoughts of politics?
We answered the question with the limited HIV/AIDS information we’d learned in grade school. Anyone else with a question? Hoping in our minds that the subject had passed we were slightly more prepared for the next volley. “How exactly does someone get AIDS?” “Do you get AIDS from giving someone a hug?” “If I’ve had sex with my boyfriend using a condom is it still possible to get AIDS?” “Are the condoms they sell in the store more effective than the ones I get for free from the clinic?” “Do I get AIDS by eating food someone else with AIDS has eaten?”
Our minds are spinning with the reality that we’ve just entered. Not only do these kids not really have any idea about AIDS, they really don’t have ANY possible way to find the truth about it. We were some of the first people to speak to these High School kids who’ve probably been sexually active since they were about twelve years old. Not only do these kids not have any possible way to find the truth about AIDS, there’s nothing really being done to help them. As you’re driving around you may see helpful signs saying “Be wise, condomize” or “Practice safe sex, use a condom” but no one is doing anything more to help prevent this disease. Not only are people not helping them in any way, but even the people who should be helping them are totally confused about it as well. As we answered the kids questions the teachers as well sat there listening. Who will tell these kids the truth?
I realized that day that the limited information I had from grade school or high school was more information than these kids may ever be exposed to. They are living in darkness. They are living under a veil that has covered their eyes to the truth that there is a danger and their lives do matter enough for them to chose life over death. But who will tell them?
Yesterday I was shocked at how little is being done and how little these kids know about a disease that is destroying their nation. Confusion, anger and desperation set into my spirit. It tears my heart knowing that these kids have bought into lies they’ve been told.
Yesterday, in a high school of about twelve hundred students- learners as they call them here- we told them. And we gave each of them a book that explained the truth about AIDS and how it’s spread. We told them of their value to God and how they can choose to make positive choices, they are worth saving themselves. We told them.
Yesterday I told a group of high school students that condoms don’t prevent AIDS, I told them to wait until marriage, I told them God loves them and values them. I told them you don’t get AIDS from hugging someone or shaking their hand.
Today someone told me that it’s likely that every one of those kids has HIV/AIDS. Yesterday came too late for many of them.
8.30.2006
Becoming Milo
A white lab coat and some safety goggles complete the costume. Yet not all is complete to make Professor Milo who he needs to be. Developing a character for plays and theatre was always a difficult task for me. The director would tell us to come up with a character and his or her conflict in the play. We had to define the character by their history, family, schooling and living status. We were supposed to breathe life and depth into a person that otherwise would not exist; and I’m sure some people would like to argue does not exist outside the four walls of the theatre.
It was always easier to come up with the history and background and let the character would flow from that, rather than create a character and then try to define his story and why he was the way he was. This was always a stretch for me. I always had a hard time stepping outside what I already knew. It was hard to look past your own personal ideas and life and make something new. It was always a stretch for me to do figure and plan something I didn’t understand. I was supposed to be able to create a new person based on ideas and thoughts in my own mind. I was supposed to come up with a new world-view and new ideals to create a person who may be completely opposite how I see myself. This is the dilemma.
We are obviously each raised in different environments and places. Every person has been shaped by life experiences and events. Without getting too far into the Nature v. Nurture debate it’s pretty easy to see that we are all different in our views of our worlds, our outlooks and ourselves. These differences are caused by a variety of factors that have shaped much of what we hold onto today.
Creating us and shaping us has been God’s purpose since before our entrance into this earth. He has a purpose and a plan that is unique and specific for you and I. This plan that He has is shaped by where He takes us and the individual experiences we each go through. Although at the time it’s usually a stretch for us, we can often times look back and later see where and why He was leading us the way He did.
My mind has struggled with this entry for a few days now. It’s taken me a lot longer to formulate and process what I need to write for this letter, than on any other. Even now I sit here and try to put into words the feelings and emotions that I’m facing. I think a lot of what I need to say comes from my selfish desires to know the end and the result of this next stage in my life. I want to know the character God is building me into and where He is leading me. I don’t want the process, I want the result. I don’t want the growing and stretching, I want the rest. I don’t want to be at point “A” when I know there’s a point “B” coming along somewhere. I guess I should just explain.
I leave this Wednesday for Africa. I will be leading an intern team of four into South Africa, Rwanda and Uganda. We will be gone from August 30th until the beginning of December. I think the struggle comes in knowing that my flesh doesn’t really want to do this. I mean if I can be completely honest, and this is probably going to sound somewhat “unmissionary-like”, I don’t want to do this.
I don’t reeeaally want to be gone for that long, I don’t want to experience cold showers, rice and beans everyday, goat meat, bottled water, uncomfortable beds, sleepless nights, foreign languages, people staring at you, long bus rides, hot sweaty days, no communication with home, no home, living out of a suitcase, being away, slow internet connections, waking up early, giving and giving and giving. All these things that I don’t really look forward to, or really miss that much are balanced knowing that He is bringing me into a deeper understanding of His plan. I know God is taking me somewhere and He’s forming me into a character and person that He wants me to be, it’s just the process, the process that is causing the most pain.
So I walk this semester in obedience. I take on this mantle of leading this team and all that goes with it under the knowledge that I am being obedient to what He has brought me into. Most other trips I’ve been on have been great because I’m walking in the excitement and passion of the ministry. Yet somehow this time it’s different. I am in simple obedience to His will for my life at this time. I think this is much harder.
Becoming Milo is in reference to a Children’s Show “Demo” that is being filmed here at Book of Hope. It’s something one of the ladies here and the studio are putting together to try to provide needed material for kids here in the United States. What will happen or where it will take us, no one really knows, but that for me would represent the point “B”. I would love to be a part of a children’s show in some kind of ministry aspect. That would really be something that would fulfill a true heart’s desire in my life. Yet because of my travel schedule, I won’t be able to help or be a part of it. But I still walk in obedience.
And there is another point “B” in my life right now, it involves another person, someone that I want to know and share every experience of life with. Yet during these next couple months our lives will be separated by thousands of miles. I wait anxiously and excitedly as God creates and develops in me the type of person I need to be. I look forward to the day I can look back and see the how The Director created me into the character He wants me to be, and the person that she needs me to be. I look forward to the day you can all meet Professor Milo.
Sure enough, this letter comes just as we prepare to leave for the airport to board a plane that will take us to South Africa. I got up this morning at 630am, I start to think about the three months that lay ahead of me and the path I must walk. I know this will be one semester I will remember for a very long time. Walking in obedience to God’s will, not my own.
You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart,
O God, you will not despise.
Psalms 51:16-17
It was always easier to come up with the history and background and let the character would flow from that, rather than create a character and then try to define his story and why he was the way he was. This was always a stretch for me. I always had a hard time stepping outside what I already knew. It was hard to look past your own personal ideas and life and make something new. It was always a stretch for me to do figure and plan something I didn’t understand. I was supposed to be able to create a new person based on ideas and thoughts in my own mind. I was supposed to come up with a new world-view and new ideals to create a person who may be completely opposite how I see myself. This is the dilemma.
We are obviously each raised in different environments and places. Every person has been shaped by life experiences and events. Without getting too far into the Nature v. Nurture debate it’s pretty easy to see that we are all different in our views of our worlds, our outlooks and ourselves. These differences are caused by a variety of factors that have shaped much of what we hold onto today.
Creating us and shaping us has been God’s purpose since before our entrance into this earth. He has a purpose and a plan that is unique and specific for you and I. This plan that He has is shaped by where He takes us and the individual experiences we each go through. Although at the time it’s usually a stretch for us, we can often times look back and later see where and why He was leading us the way He did.
My mind has struggled with this entry for a few days now. It’s taken me a lot longer to formulate and process what I need to write for this letter, than on any other. Even now I sit here and try to put into words the feelings and emotions that I’m facing. I think a lot of what I need to say comes from my selfish desires to know the end and the result of this next stage in my life. I want to know the character God is building me into and where He is leading me. I don’t want the process, I want the result. I don’t want the growing and stretching, I want the rest. I don’t want to be at point “A” when I know there’s a point “B” coming along somewhere. I guess I should just explain.
I leave this Wednesday for Africa. I will be leading an intern team of four into South Africa, Rwanda and Uganda. We will be gone from August 30th until the beginning of December. I think the struggle comes in knowing that my flesh doesn’t really want to do this. I mean if I can be completely honest, and this is probably going to sound somewhat “unmissionary-like”, I don’t want to do this.
I don’t reeeaally want to be gone for that long, I don’t want to experience cold showers, rice and beans everyday, goat meat, bottled water, uncomfortable beds, sleepless nights, foreign languages, people staring at you, long bus rides, hot sweaty days, no communication with home, no home, living out of a suitcase, being away, slow internet connections, waking up early, giving and giving and giving. All these things that I don’t really look forward to, or really miss that much are balanced knowing that He is bringing me into a deeper understanding of His plan. I know God is taking me somewhere and He’s forming me into a character and person that He wants me to be, it’s just the process, the process that is causing the most pain.
So I walk this semester in obedience. I take on this mantle of leading this team and all that goes with it under the knowledge that I am being obedient to what He has brought me into. Most other trips I’ve been on have been great because I’m walking in the excitement and passion of the ministry. Yet somehow this time it’s different. I am in simple obedience to His will for my life at this time. I think this is much harder.
Becoming Milo is in reference to a Children’s Show “Demo” that is being filmed here at Book of Hope. It’s something one of the ladies here and the studio are putting together to try to provide needed material for kids here in the United States. What will happen or where it will take us, no one really knows, but that for me would represent the point “B”. I would love to be a part of a children’s show in some kind of ministry aspect. That would really be something that would fulfill a true heart’s desire in my life. Yet because of my travel schedule, I won’t be able to help or be a part of it. But I still walk in obedience.
And there is another point “B” in my life right now, it involves another person, someone that I want to know and share every experience of life with. Yet during these next couple months our lives will be separated by thousands of miles. I wait anxiously and excitedly as God creates and develops in me the type of person I need to be. I look forward to the day I can look back and see the how The Director created me into the character He wants me to be, and the person that she needs me to be. I look forward to the day you can all meet Professor Milo.
Sure enough, this letter comes just as we prepare to leave for the airport to board a plane that will take us to South Africa. I got up this morning at 630am, I start to think about the three months that lay ahead of me and the path I must walk. I know this will be one semester I will remember for a very long time. Walking in obedience to God’s will, not my own.
You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart,
O God, you will not despise.
Psalms 51:16-17
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