Middle of Nowhere

I recenlty made a trip out to a friend's village. We drove 9 hours on mountain roads to get there. I'm guessing we covered about 70 miles as the crow flies, about 350km on our odometer. Our driver told us it took us 3 hours to travel 30km on one stretch. That's how bad these roads are - switchbacks up and down one mountain, then up and down another until we arrived at a big river. When we got close to the river, we got out of the car and hiked down to it, crossed it on rafts (and foot bridges like the one pictured here), then hiked up another mountain to get to her village. This was the most efficient way to get to her home.

If this bridge looks scary to you, try coming across it with no warning and no alternative. I was terrified. Two men had to hold my hands to lead me across.

It amazed me as we drove, hiked, and paddled how remote this village was. And this is only one of hundreds of villages in this county that sits amid steep mountains and rugged terrain. And this county is only one of hundreds in this enormous mountain range.

Switchbacks on the rougher part of the trip.

Five households make up this village. My friend's father, three of his brothers, and his uncle. Most of the inhabitants are uneducated and extremely poor. In fact, in the entire time I spent there, I was able to have only one or two conversations. Only a few of the more privileged men spoke the language I've spent the last 2 years learning. None of the women spoke it at all, they only knew their local dialects of the tribal language.

I'll be honest. I cried that afternoon. I'd gone all that way in hopes of being able to tell these remote people about Jesus (I was there on Christmas Eve, so it would have been easy to get the conversation started). But after a few hours, I realized that I'd be lucky if I would be able to ask for a glass of water and be understood. Verbal communication was not going to happen.

I was overwhelmed by the enormity of the task of reaching the unreached peoples of the world with the gospel. Just to travel around this small region and be able to communicate, I would need to learn about 10 different languages - a total of about 80 dialects. It's a totally impossible task for humans to reach these remote corners of the mountains with the Good News.

But God showed me something amazing. In this 5 home village in the middle of nowhere, he has already brought a few people to himself. My friend for one, who I met in the city. She believed after I was able to share the gospel with her a few times. But also several of her cousins have believed. I don't know how they learned about Jesus, but they follow him.

It may be impossible for mere humans to communicate the gospel to all the unreached peoples of the world, but the task is not beyond God's reach. He is able to do immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine. And he does so according to his power that is at work within us. So while we may be powerles to accomplish the task, his power in us is sufficient. Somehow, he will reach the unreached until representatives from every nation, tribe, people and language surround his throne in worship.

Please pray for the People Groups of the world who have not yet heard the gospel.

God Spoke

"In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways"
-Hebrews 1:1

I want to reflect on the fact that God spoke. When he created the world, he spoke. He wanted something, he just said it, and there it was. The words that came from his 'mouth' at that time were powerful - so powerful that an infinite and incomprehensible universe came about through his words. He set the stars in place and made boundaries for the seas that they cannot cross. He created my intestinal tract and the human mind. God's speaking is nothing insignificant.

But here we're told he spoke to men. The Most High God made himself and his will known to men - sinful men He shouldn't even be mindful of us, we're so far beneath him. In his righteous justice, he should have annihilated us by how because of our sin. But instead he spoke. He spoke of his Law, his desire to draw people and nations to himself. He even spoke to individuals about their personal problems - like Hagar(Genesis 16:7-13). His speaking reveals that he cares about us. It also shows us he desires to be known and glorified.

He was persistent too. He spoke many times and in various ways. He kept on pursuing people. He was not limited to one form of address. He spoke through Moses, he talked directly to Abraham. He sent angels to Mary and Daniel. He even gave a donkey the voice of a man to stop the madness of Balaam the prophet (Numbers 22:21-30).

Even though he was serious about having people listen and obey, he was persistent and patient. He didn't speak once to Moses and expect us to be eternally obedient and understanding. He spoke again and again through the ages in many forms.

One of those forms was through the prophets. Moses, Samuel, David, Jeremiah, Isaiah. Sometimes the people listened. Usually they rejected what the prophets were saying, and effectively rejected God.

But the response of the Israelites does not change the fact that God spoke. He spoke to his people, urging them to be his people, reminding them he loved them and wanted their hearts. Sometimes his words seemed harsh and angry - but they were always based in his love for his people and his value of his own glory. He constantly invited people to come into a relationship with him. What better gift could he give them than to allow them to enjoy him? The judgements he spoke were just, but they were also invitations to repent.

When God spoke it was always to invite people to be his. To come out from the world and belong to the Most High God. Whether he invited them to a mountain or a feast, or told them he'd destroy their land, or comforted a woman in her fear, he was always reaching out a hand to lift up those who would respond in faith.


On Thanksgiving, I want to thank God for being so gracious to us, so graciously condescending that he would create angels and galaxies and then turn and speak to sinful men - even sending his Son to teach us and save us. I'm thankful that he's seen fit to speak to us even when he knows many will not listen or even try to hear. I'm thankful that he has chosen to make himself known to us, and that he has been persistent through the ages to speak and call people to himself.

Look Alive

I read my Bible every day, with rare exceptions. For a while there, I would sit on the couch with a cup of coffee in the morning. I'd do a magic flip, or read a Psalm, or flip back and forth between Old and New Testament books. I had no reading plan, and I was pretty much just reading for a thought for the day. God showed me stuff, but my time in the Bible wasn't really that exciting.

Recently, I decided I wanted to start really studying the Bible again. I won't go into detail about my methods, but for the past couple of weeks, I've been sitting down with my Bible (in the 2 translations I have here) and a notebook and several different colored pens or even colored pencils. I've been picking apart sentences, making outlines, looking at word order, asking the author questions and letting the text answer.

You know what I'm noticing more than anything else in my studies? PASSION! God is passionately in love with people. So much so that he died for us. And he wants us to be passionately in love with Him. And when we're passionately in love with Him, we are so eager to please. That turns us into obedient children, not because God is a strict father, but because we love Him so much we want to give Him joy by living like He wants us to!

The language of the Bible is strong language. The New Testament is filled with phrases like, "be all the more eager," "make every effort,"see to it," "count it pure joy," "inexpressible and glorious joy," etc. The Bible doesn't really leave room for lukewarm Christianity. Church on Sunday morning is not the point. He wants us JOYFUL and HAPPY in Him. He wants us to eagerly pursue qualities that magnify Him. He wants us to persevere, and in perseverance there is greater intimacy and joy.

Every so often, I'll read a book or watch a movie that makes me wish I could just move back to America, have a nice kitchen, comfortable couches, a handsome husband, and maybe a decent looking car. Once in a while, I feel like trading in the Pursuit of Happiness in God for the pursuit of happiness through the American dream. But what I've seen in God's written word over the past few weeks pushes me forward. Deep down, I know this is the point (or at least part of it) - that we passionately fall in love with God who first passionately loved us.

I'm just sayin'....

Inconvenient Love

Yesterday, after I finished up my language classes for the day, I got on the bus to go home. The bus didn't pull out of the stop for a while, so we sat there waiting for about 5 minutes. In that short time, I witnessed a pretty brutal fight outside the bus. I heard the sound of fist-impact before I heard the sound of the man screaming. I looked out, and about 100 yards from the bus, 2 guys were viciously beating up another. Thankfully, there was a small police booth nearby, and the police came quickly to break up the fight. People on the bus were commenting, "Oh, he's a thief."

What caught my attention after all the 'excitement' faded was the crowd of people who gathered to watch the fight. In about 45 seconds probably 100 people were standing at shop doors, on the sidewalk and on the street watching. Not a single one moved to break up the fight. Only the police did that.

This reminded me of one of the aspects of this culture that often bothers me. People don't get involved in the needs of strangers. If there's a car accident, a huge crowd will gather to watch, but not one will call for help let alone roll up their sleeves to lend a hand. A few months back, a few friends of mine who couldn't swim got caught in some deep water. As their friends called for help, onlookers simply refused to lend a hand to pull them out of the water.

A while back, a friend told me a story about a man out here who tried to save another man who'd fallen overboard into a river. When he called for help, onlookers did nothing. After the drowning man died, he asked them why they didn't help save the guy. Their reply? "It wasn't convenient."

I think we Westerners underestimate the impact Christianity and Judaism have had on our culture. For a few thousand years, we've been trained by the Bible's radical philosophies to love our neighbors. Christians in particular follow the model of the ultimate self-sacrificer, Jesus. In our culture, one of the greatest virtues is sacrificial love. If we are not so brave and loving as to give our lives for others, we are at least willing and quick to lend a hand when we see someone in need.

It's not my intention to raise up Western Society as somehow more civilized or advanced. My point is that without the example of God's love, and his desire to see us love each other, self-serving is more the norm than self-sacrifice.

Cultures that have never encountered the teachings of the Bible are unaquainted with this radical love. They worship and serve idols that can do them no good, gods that need to be appeased and manipulated. But the Bible teaches of a God who so loved the world that He gave his only Son to die, and his Son willingly died, for sinful, undeserving men and women. And that's the kind of love He wants to see in His children.

Please pray with me that people of these cultures would see this selfless love in God's people, and be moved to worship Him and receive the Free Gift of His sacrificial love. Pray that witnessing that kind of love would register deep within them so they would say, "I knew all along there had to be more/better... and now God has revealed it."

He Hears and Acts

When I first got to my city almost 2 years ago, there was one family down the road from my house that was particularly welcoming. They often invited me to sit and talk - even though I had no language - in their restaurant. I fell in love with the grandma and the 11-year-old boy. I saw that I had favor with them and wanted to share the gospel with them. But language limitations and frequent distractions kept me from doing so. Even if I felt I couldn't adequately share with them, I knew I could pray fervently for the family and for the workers at the restaurant. My heart has been especially drawn to pray for the boy and his grandma.

Over the past year or so, I have prayed frequently for the boy and asked others to as well. I prayed that he would be a truth-seeker and that he would grow up to be a man of God. I remember specifically praying that he would come across something in his lessons at school that would cause him to think deeply about the Truth and about God.

Time went on, and I still had few opportunities to share with these people. But recently I had a chance to sit and chat with the boy. I decided to try to steer the conversation so that I could share the gospel with him - now that I can use the language a little. I asked whether his family believed one of the prevalent religions here. He answered, "Yes, but I believe Christianity." After I got over my surprise, I ventured to find out how he learned about Jesus. He told me he saw a painting in one of his textbooks of baby Jesus and Mary. He became curious. Later, one of his cousins told him what he knew of the gospel story.

I decided to share a story that sums up the gospel, shortened for an 11-year-old, just to see how much he understood. The beginning part about the garden he hadn't heard, but when I got to the end, he finished the story for me. When we finished the story, he said, "That's what I believe. I think my family's religion is (insert word I hadn't learned yet) . " I looked up the word I didn't know. My dictionary translates it as, "false, phony, fake."

What an amazing God we serve! He moved me to pray for this boy in specific ways, and he worked through those specific prayers. The boy questioned what he was taught, and God brought him to True conclusions.

Slip Sliding Away

Culture shock can be a confusing experience. I've been here almost 2 years, so i have a few stories. Sometimes I've felt this crushing "I hate this place" feeling in my chest and want to run away or push people off their bikes. Sometimes it's little things that bug me. After such a long time, I've become accustomed to a lot of things. But once in a while, culture shock and fatigue cause me to focus all my discontent and discomfort into hatred of one, small, seemingly meaningless difference in the culture here.

Lately, it's been the floors.

Let me explain.

With the exception of paved roads and areas of concrete, every surface on which people are meant to walk is made with material that becomes extremely slippery when wet. The sidewalks are made of glossy tile. Floors in restaurants, banks, stores, and houses are made of a glossy, marble-looking tile. Stairways are made of the same stuff, and don't have those grooves in them that stop you from slipping. If the floor or your shoe is wet to the slightest degree, you risk slipping and falling - or at the very least jolting your lower back out of alignment.

It's the rainy season here, which means it's rained just about every day for the past 5 months. The sidewalks are always wet. So are the stone walkways in the older areas of town. So are the floors in all the stores, restaurants, banks, schools, and stairways.

When I get impatient with this place, I find myself walking really fast - maybe because I can get a little tense and anxious. The slippery floor and sidewalk thing really gets on my nerves when I'm trying to get somewhere fast. I have a pair of $120 hiking boots that have no traction on these surfaces.

Culture shock can be pretty amusing when you step back and look at it without all the pent up anger and resentment. These days, I hate the very ground I walk on, and daily curse these people for making walking ares so slippery.

Blessed Beyond the Curse

Lately I've been overwhelmed with sorrow over the lives of the people I care about here. I'll spare you the details. I'll sum up by saying that life is difficult and bitter for just about everyone on the planet. People are victims of all kinds of evils, as well as doing evil deeds themselves. These past few weeks, my heart has broken over the hurt my friends have experienced because of the selfishness and cruelty of others.

A recent example caused me to consider the sovereignty of God and find encouragement and hope beyond what I expected. In this situation, rumors and conjecture have caused me to fear that a friend has been involved in some destructive activities and may still be. From what I know of the situation, this friend may be both the victim of an evil and an active participant. My heart sank at the idea. All I could say when I prayed about this issue was, "Lord, say it isn't so!"

"Say it isn't so" isn't much of a prayer. I believe that God is powerful enough to work a miracle that could cause things that have happened not to have happened. But as far as I know he never has worked this way. Asking him to undo past events seems kind of silly to me.

This led me to think about what would be a better prayer, how would he be likely to act in this situation? It occurred to me that when God intervenes in the lives of people, he almost always goes far beyond undoing harm done. Revelation 21:5 says, "Behold, I am making all things new!" He doesn't just heal hearts and gloss over our pain. He makes us new.

When Jesus secured salvation for those who would believe, he didn't just forgive their sin and give them a "get-out-of-hell-free" card. The Bible tells us we will be like Jesus. He will make us new. There will be no more death or pain or mourning or crying. He will wipe away our tears, and make us new. Romans 8 says that even creation will be made new, freed from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.

And so, as I look at the situations I see around me here, I don't simply wish away the corruption and abuse. I don't look at my friends' broken hearts, broken families, or broken bodies and say, "Lord, say it isn't so." I say, "Lord, let these orphans trust you so that they will bring you glory when you make them new." He can give them healed hearts and new lives on earth. And in the end, they can be made new along with everything else.

I must be careful not to look around me and see all the suffering as reason to believe God is unjust or uncaring or impotent. The Biblical point of view reminds me that he has no intention of leaving things this way. For those who trust him, all things will be made new. He will not leave us in this condition forever.

So for the crippled boy who begs in the park, for the rape victims, for the physically abused, for the children of broken marriages, for those who live in fear of death or in guilt over their sin, I don't merely wish it weren't so. I know they can be made new if they only will trust the Savior.

Time Is On My Bad Side

I have the punctuality of a bus driver. What I mean is, I think in terms of minutes and seconds. When I was driving buses, I always showed up at least 5 minutes early for my shifts. If other drivers were 2 or 3 minutes late, I'd get irritated. My life is orderly when I can map out a schedule - in 15 minute increments - and execute it pretty much on time.

I can be flexible, but I don't really like to be. I pretend I prefer to be casual about time. But really, I can't handle that too much.

And so, of course, God drops me into a culture where time is kind of irrelevant.

Sure, some people have jobs in the city, or they go to school. Those people have some concept of showing up within a few minutes of a designated time. But most people come from backgrounds where their concept of time is broken down into days and weeks. They may be able to show up to work on time, but for social meetings they prefer to relax and follow the ways of the countryside.

Hence, my problem. This week I talked to my neighbor's son. I love this kid, so I offered to teach him English when he has free time. He says, "Saturday afternoon, I have time. Should I come find you or do you want to come find me?"

Question: What does "Saturday afternoon" mean? Does it mean between 12:01 and 4:59? Does it mean after the noon time rest - after 2pm? Does the afternoon end at a certain time? When does it begin?

Another friend wanted to hang out on Sunday. She told me, "Sunday I don't have to work. Come find me in the afternoon." I asked what time, she wouldn't say.

This is a huge problem for me - defining time. In the case of my neighbor's son. I went to look for him on Saturday around 1:30, he wasn't home. I waited in my house for a few hours - doing homework and tidying up - but he never came.

And so this is my life. People make vague plans. I wait around so that I won't miss them, but then I miss them. Or in other cases, I waste a bunch of time going off to find people, but they're not where they said they'd be when I get there. I don't want to appear over anxious, or uptight about punctuality. So I casually shrug off the missed opportunities to hang out, secretly stewing inside because of another wasted afternoon.

The really hard part is that I keep trying to measure my productivity by how much I get done in a day. But I look back over weeks and months, and it seems that all my efforts at being productive are thwarted not because of laziness or disorganization on my part, but because other people don't look at time the way I do.

Another difficulty is the feeling that people don't value me the way I do them. In America, I often was hurt by the tardiness of friends, because I felt they didn't respect me enough to respect my time. Here I feel like people forget me and go on without me. I shuffle my day's plans around the 'time' we said we'd meet. But then, because we never nailed down a time, we end up not meeting. So, once again, I feel that my time is not respected, and neither is my presence. Furthermore, I get stuck spending more time by myself, both in waiting for them and in missing my chance to hang out with them.

All I can say after all this, is I'm thankful for the prevalence of cell phones. Without them, I doubt I'd ever get to see any of my friends.

The Journey is Part of the Gift

When I first arrived over here, a mentor told me a story. An American living in Africa was making preparations to return home after many years working to make Christ known. A friend made a journey to deliver a gift to him before his departure. The man walked 4 days on bare feet to deliver a pair of shoes he'd woven out of grass. When the American saw that he'd walked so far, he was embarrassed and insisted that his friend didn't need to walk so far to deliver the gift. The African replied, "The journey is part of the gift."

My friend shared this story with me as a reminder that the traveling I do, the distance from home, the loneliness, the culture shock, the illnesses are all part of the gift I've come to distribute.

It's easy sometimes to feel like it's not worth it. I've made trips where the bus has gotten stuck in the mud so many times that a 5 hour ride has turned into 2 days. I've gotten lost in the woods in the rain. I've had to sleep on hard beds with spiders hanging overhead. There have been many places with no outhouses, long nights of stomach pain, back pain from sitting on low stools, and meals of boiled pig fat on rice. After some of these trips to the countryside, I'm tempted to give up and head back to America where you can find a sanitary bathroom at most 7-Elevens, sleep in a comfortable bed just about anywhere, and take a warm shower every day.

But then I remember that the journey is part of the gift. The hardship is part of the glory. Our salvation in Christ came at huge cost to him. The spread of the gospel comes with much persecution and hardship to those willing to follow Christ and make him known.

Nothing compares to the privilege of sitting around a fire in a village in the mountains and sharing the gospel with people who have never heard the name of Jesus. What could be more fulfilling than making him known? What could be more of a waste than running from my calling into the open arms of a comfortable life in America?

So until I get new instructions, I will try to remain faithful to what I believe God has given me to do. And I will try to remember that the journey is part of the gift.