Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Moment or Movement (part 2 of Counting the Co$t)
I feel that we, as the body of Christ are at least as accountable as they
are for the lack of cost counting going on. I think that we (Christians,
teachers, missionaries, etc) sometimes get so excited about someone accepting
Christ (which don’t mistake me, is DEFINITELY something to get excited about) I
think it’s very easy to get caught up in the world of exploding church numbers,
converted refuges, youth groups outgrowing their building, and salvation on the
mission field. But are we truly giving people a chance to see the true meaning
of become a Christian. Of Christ living IN us. Do they understand that their
salvation will be “worked out” over time and through many trials and
tribulations. Has anyone told them that sometimes being a Christian is not glorious,
rewarding, or even moderately comfortable, but sometimes it is suffering, sacrifice,
and perhaps even despair that clings to the hope that Christ is at work. Do we
allow people to see this whole picture? Or do we paint a pretty picture to
“make God look good” so that people will want to be on His team. Seriously? It
blows my mind that we think we need to make God look good, and yet I see it a
lot, and I shamefully admit I am no exception. Ironically while counting the
cost is a biblical principle, putting an all positive slant on God or Christian
living is not. In fact the bible says we will take part in the sufferings of
Christ and warns that we should expect to suffer/sacrifice for our faith. I
think we often blow by these verses attributing them to monks & martyrs
when perhaps God means for us to be applying them to movies and modesty.
If you been following this blog you know I spent the better part of 2012 in
a rural village in Guinea-Bissau (West Africa) and let me tell you what, I
didn’t see a lot of moments where people were overcome by God and in an instant
tore all the animistic charms from their children, smashed their little idol
huts, stopped lying, cheating & stealing, became gentle and faithful
husbands, etc but I did see a lot of MOVEMENT. I saw a lot of movement toward
Christ. I saw believers questioning the status quo in their culture, cutting charms off their children, refusing to participate in the anamistic ceramonial washing after an unmarried woman gives birth, and loving those who persecuted them for their faith. I witnessed believers in various stages of their faith journey taking steps to make their life
look more like the teachings of Christ. Truely allowing the Holy Spirit to renew their mind. And isn’t that the point?
I would like to be clear about something. I’m not saying that God doesn’t
ever change a man’s heart overnight. I’m sure it happens and who am I to say
how God moves in someone else’s life. But I am suggesting that I think we
should be aware, as a Christian church, that we can get really caught up in
these glorious "moments" which are often quick to fade awaywhen the fruit which the Holy Spirit
truly produces in someone’s life shouldn’t be confined in a moment but worked
out in a movement.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Counting the Co$t (part 1)
The
biblical truth God revealed to me through my Guinensee friends
Picture
this. You're sitting comfortably in your pew trying not to let your thoughts
wander to the errands you need to run after church. Your pastor begins to
preach, and boy is it a great sermon. Ya know, the kind that gets everyone
stirring, but not because they're bored, because they're uncomfortable, in a
good way! You begin to think about your life, and you know you've gone astray.
As he brings his sermon to a close the pastor invites all who would like to
accept Christ as their lord, or to recommit their lives to Christ to come
forward. You know this is you. You should go... but just then the man next to
you stands up. You're pretty sure he's a Christian, or at least he's been
attending church every Sunday for about a year now. He comes to church with his
child, dressed well, and knows the part. He clears his throat and everyone
direct their attention toward him. "Good morning everyone. I would just
like to say that I've been coming here for about a year now. I've learned a lot
about God and his love for me, and I know I need his forgiveness in my life.
The thing is, I really love going to the clubs to get wasted and dance
provocatively with women on the weekends, and I know God doesn't like that, so
if you'd like to pray for me I'm just going to continue to think about this a
little more." Shocking isn’t it? Not so much that someone would think
those things, but for someone to actually say them seems absurd, almost
ludicrous.
When
I think about what the reaction may be if this were to take place in my own
loving congregation, I'm not sure if there would be a deafening silence or an
audible gasp. My church family is fantastic, but the perspective here doesn’t'
reflect a lack of love by our church families, but rather a distorted
perspective on conversion. You see in our culture I think we relish this
magical defining moment where you decide to live for Christ and overwhelmed
with spiritual enlightenment and live happily ever after. It seems we sometime
mistake a proclamation of faith as a step into faultlessness. But the reality
is that many, though emotionally stirred in their heart and perhaps truly moved
by the spirit, are indeed longing for the God sized whole to be filled in their
lives, but never commit with their head. Which produces a group of people
rather easily enticed to get on the train but then after some rough track, have
decided this train is really not for them and are quickly ready to get off at
the next stop.
So
why does this happen? Are they just bad people? Flakey? Faking? Perhaps none of
those at all. But rather they don't think about the way that this Christian “religion,”
which is actually a relationship with a
living God, will need to affect their decisions in town Friday night, or in a
Tuesday office board meeting. The problem then is that when these moments
arise, they're willing to explain away their choices and we so often accept
their blubbering attempts to justify blatant sin. Or, perhaps they do all the
right things for a while but at some point they are tired of juggling a
balance, between their two desires.. The cognitive dissonance caused by the
conflicting interests (to grow closer to God and to lead a self serving life) is
more than they can bear, so they gradually grow distant from their church
friends and stop showing up on Sundays, until you don't see them at all. So why
does this happen? Why are these people leaving the body of Christ to serve
themselves? They didn't count the cost my friends. It possible that they were
misinformed and didn’t know it. Or maybe they approached it like that bill
that’s been laying on the table for 10 days now and is about to be late but you
can’t bring yourself to open it because you’re just so afraid you don’t be able
to pay. Whatever the reason, one thing is clear to me. They didn't count the
cost.
Though
it may be socially unacceptable in our own church culture, it seems to me that counting
the cost is a biblical principle.
The Cost of Being a Disciple
(from Luke)
25
Large crowds were traveling with Jesus, and turning to them he said: 26 “If
anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children,
brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my
disciple. 27 And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my
disciple. 28 “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit
down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? 29
For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees
it will ridicule you, 30 saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to
finish.’ 31 “Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king.
Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men
to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? 32 If he is not
able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and
will ask for terms of peace. 33 In the same way, those of you who do not give
up everything you have cannot be my disciples. 34 “Salt is good, but if it
loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? 35 It is fit neither for
the soil nor for the manure pile; it is thrown out.
(...to be continued)
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Amish Country, West-Africa & the ¼ mile in between
A standard ¼ mile high school track spanning over 4,000miles from Lancaster, PA to Catel, Guinea Bissau. That would be impressive, would it not? Or maybe you’d consider it impossible. I certainly believe God is sovereign, ruling over all things, and therefore if He decided tomorrow that the ¼ mile track at CV high school should stretch out until it reaches the clinic of Catel, he could certainly do that. But that is someone else’s story. Here is mine.
That’s a “typical” day in Catel, where I ended up, but how
did I get there? If my memory serves me correctly it began after a long winded
guilt trip and concussion education because I unsnapped my life vest during a
few minutes of the six hours we spent out on the Susquehanna “river” (that was
so low we had to get out a few times to drag the boat) kayaking that afternoon.
As we pulled out my partner in lifejacket crimes, and longtime best friend and
EMT, cautiously began asking if I had plans for the evening then continued to
explain that she’d forgotten he signed up to walk/run in the Relay for Life
even being held at a local high school with LEMSA (the ambulance company she
works for). I laughed in disbelief wondering if she forgot we’d just spent all
afternoon in the scorching sun kayaking, before realizing she wasn’t kidding
and she wanted me to go. So after over a decade of friendship and since it was
for such a great cause, a few hours later I found myself wandering around the
track at Conestoga Valley High school looking for the familiar faces of LEMSA
personnel. Though it’s amazing how difficult it can be to find a group of
people who can’t be more than 1/8 mile away from you at any given time on a
quarter mile track, we eventually caught up with them and Meg introduced me to
those I didn’t know from the ER, including Sean Fitzgerald. Sean’s a cool guy.
He love helping people, is always
cracking jokes and, as I would soon find out, is up for almost anything.
How exactly do you occupy your time
while you circle around and around a ¼ miletrack? Chat of course. And it was
during the course of that conversation that Sean shared he’d recently been
accepted to serve in a clinic in Guinea-Bissau with Eastern Mennonite
Missions. Now the truth is I’m a nurse,
a math and science kind of girl. Geography, however, is not exactly my strong
point. Though it’s fairly safe to say a country with a name you’ve never heard
is most likely in Africa, one never can be sure, so I shamefully needed to ask
exactly where Guinea-Bissau was. But as the night went on and we began
discussing missions and Africa I was re-awakened to my passion for both of the
prior and began to pray for patience, having just graduated from nursing school
seven months before and began a RN-BSN program a mere 3 months prior, it was
not good timing to be thinking missions. Or so I thought. And so when we left a
few hours later, though I wanted to keep in touch with Sean and try to offer
support in whatever way I could, though Sean mentioned calling EMM for
information I had zero intention of pursuing this and in fact repeatedly
reminded myself and my best friend that though God has been stirring in my
heart for some time to serve in missions in a larger capacity, now was not the
time.
Within a few weeks Sean had contacted me saying EMM was looking for at least 2 medical providers to go to Catel and perhaps a nurse. I remember the moment vividly. I was once again with my best-friend Meg, but this time I was riding shotgun and we were headed down Rt 1 on our way to the beach. Having overheard the conversation about EMM wanting to send a nurse she said “I’m pretty sure you’re going to Guinea-Bissau.” Shocked at her confident observation, I confessed that with each short term mission trip I had gone on God has grown and grown my heart for missions until my friend from nursing school basically drug me out of Malawi, and my calling to missions was clarified to return to Africa after a few trips to non-african 3rd world countries but I was stubborn and continued to explain the 100 reasons why it couldn’t be me, not now, I knew nothing about Guinea-Bissau, Portuguese, Sean or EMM, I was in the midst of a RN-BSN program, I was just getting acclimated to my RN role in the Emergency Room, not to mention that the team was leaving in December and going required raising thousands of dollars that I did not have and the list went on. Looking back I wonder who I was trying to convince. It certainly wasn’t my friend. Perhaps myself or even God. I didn’t yet see how He was at work in this, how He was about to fulfill so many of my desires beyond but what I could ever imagine. Less than 2 months later I was sitting on a picnic bench in Salunga with EMM staff, thrilled and terrified to be signing up for the next adventure God had led me to… Catel, Guinea-Bissau.
In the roughly two months in between the relay for life event where I ran into sean and the day I officially decided to go I prayed,prayed, and prayed some more. I First prayed that God would give me patience and help me forget about it, then that God would lead me to His will, next that he would tell me if this (Guinea-Bissau December 2011) was the mission to which He was leading me, and then finally as I began to step out and coordinate things with EMM I continuously asked for Him to confirm that calling. While I didn’t get the burning bush or stone tablet I was looking for, one thing I repeatidly hear from God during this time was that if I could think of one reason which was not rooted in fear not to go, then I shouldn’t go. “But God, what if I can’t find a job when I get back?” Fear. “What if I can’t find enough supporters?” Fear. “What if I don’t know enough or have enough experience to treat people there?” Fear. Though some of these fears were legitimate concerns, they were all fears. Thus though terrified, dumbfounded and completely clueless, I stepped out and told EMM I was interested in going. And one by one the obstacles began to fall away as God opened door after door, and began to combat many of the fears that I’d wrestled with up until this point.
Little did I know, on that warm summer evening after a long day on the river, that with each passing lap on the track God was nudging my heart closer to the next chapter He had for me that brought the greatest joy of my life. As with most catalysts for spiritual growth, that journey was not without times of pain and trial but I saw God move in the hearts of many of my Guinensee friends, in my own heart, and most of all he vibrantly illuminated the deep and ever growing calling that He put in my life for missions.
Watching the beautiful sunrise as I sipped on morning
“coffee” (my hot, coffee flavored, powdered milk beverage) and had my quiet
time before heading down to the clinic to treat fungus, STDs, burns, and maybe
even suture up a machete wound. Then after clinic head back to the house to
hand scrub the tye-dye ankle length dresses I had soaking in a giant basin on
the veranda since the day before, go visit some friends, come home and cook
diner, get water from the well and shower, and then maybe go lead a kids
worship night at church, participate in singing worship with other missionaries
at our house, or back out to visit friends in the village until bed time. Of
course there were many variations to my daily routine including but not limited to catching public
transport and going to a local market to do some shopping, women’s bible study,
going to buy meds in larger villages such as Ingoré or São Domingos, doing clinic visits for
those who were too sick to make it to the clinic, hours spent chatting under my
favorite mango tree, warga (gunpowder tea served in 3 separate rounds in tiny
glasses sometimes mixes with mint or coffee and always with lots of sugar) and
the list goes on. I dare not leave out my favorite past time of Catel, just
sitting and being with people. But I think I’ve pained the picture for you.
Within a few weeks Sean had contacted me saying EMM was looking for at least 2 medical providers to go to Catel and perhaps a nurse. I remember the moment vividly. I was once again with my best-friend Meg, but this time I was riding shotgun and we were headed down Rt 1 on our way to the beach. Having overheard the conversation about EMM wanting to send a nurse she said “I’m pretty sure you’re going to Guinea-Bissau.” Shocked at her confident observation, I confessed that with each short term mission trip I had gone on God has grown and grown my heart for missions until my friend from nursing school basically drug me out of Malawi, and my calling to missions was clarified to return to Africa after a few trips to non-african 3rd world countries but I was stubborn and continued to explain the 100 reasons why it couldn’t be me, not now, I knew nothing about Guinea-Bissau, Portuguese, Sean or EMM, I was in the midst of a RN-BSN program, I was just getting acclimated to my RN role in the Emergency Room, not to mention that the team was leaving in December and going required raising thousands of dollars that I did not have and the list went on. Looking back I wonder who I was trying to convince. It certainly wasn’t my friend. Perhaps myself or even God. I didn’t yet see how He was at work in this, how He was about to fulfill so many of my desires beyond but what I could ever imagine. Less than 2 months later I was sitting on a picnic bench in Salunga with EMM staff, thrilled and terrified to be signing up for the next adventure God had led me to… Catel, Guinea-Bissau.
In the roughly two months in between the relay for life event where I ran into sean and the day I officially decided to go I prayed,prayed, and prayed some more. I First prayed that God would give me patience and help me forget about it, then that God would lead me to His will, next that he would tell me if this (Guinea-Bissau December 2011) was the mission to which He was leading me, and then finally as I began to step out and coordinate things with EMM I continuously asked for Him to confirm that calling. While I didn’t get the burning bush or stone tablet I was looking for, one thing I repeatidly hear from God during this time was that if I could think of one reason which was not rooted in fear not to go, then I shouldn’t go. “But God, what if I can’t find a job when I get back?” Fear. “What if I can’t find enough supporters?” Fear. “What if I don’t know enough or have enough experience to treat people there?” Fear. Though some of these fears were legitimate concerns, they were all fears. Thus though terrified, dumbfounded and completely clueless, I stepped out and told EMM I was interested in going. And one by one the obstacles began to fall away as God opened door after door, and began to combat many of the fears that I’d wrestled with up until this point.
Little did I know, on that warm summer evening after a long day on the river, that with each passing lap on the track God was nudging my heart closer to the next chapter He had for me that brought the greatest joy of my life. As with most catalysts for spiritual growth, that journey was not without times of pain and trial but I saw God move in the hearts of many of my Guinensee friends, in my own heart, and most of all he vibrantly illuminated the deep and ever growing calling that He put in my life for missions.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Family Fun
My boy Eva |
Ana and Eliza having fun with Lia :) |
"Little" Eliza, now so grown up, came along with the other kiddos to say good-bye. |
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