Friday, May 27, 2011
isolationistic-isms
i find myself wanting to stay hidden. to go... away, and just exist. get rid of the phone, the computer... which, by default, gets rid of people... and that is the opposite of me. i'm a people person. i do not enjoy being alone for a long stretch of time without a good conversation. i make friends out of complete and total strangers, if necessary. most of the time, people energize me. yet i find myself in a state where i spend a lot of time... alone. i'm not a fan of that. i know it is an intentional time, and i do not begrudge it (most of the time). i have all this time to read, study, learn... go deep in my studies. i love that. isolation, though... not having anybody to share with the things i'm learning about... the lack of interacting with people who know me... becomes heavy. i've been fighting that for a few weeks. i lose motivation to keep going, quite easily, in those moments. i find it perplexing, how easily i end up discouraged over things like that. it can be hard sometimes. so what do i do? i go one of two ways. i either become very isolated from people and withdrawn to the point when i DO spend time with someone, i don't really talk... or i will start writing. i'm writing a lot lately. i don't know what to do with it. it is a different thing for me to do. i'm not sure i like it. but i do it. i may keep rambling in blog postings time to time, if you find yourself incredibly bored with nothing much to do. who knows. perhaps something pithy will come from this brain... (happens time to time)!
Friday, May 6, 2011
Free Logos software?! Yes, please...
Saturday, April 2, 2011
One Finger for His Glory
And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites… And [he] saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That this poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury: For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living.
Mark 12:42-44
“One Finger for His Glory”
We arrived at her apartment by night in order to escape detection. We were in Russia (in the region of Lithuania, on the Baltic Sea). Ellen and I had climbed the steep stairs, coming through a small back door into the one-room apartment. It was jammed with furniture, evidence that the old couple had once lived in a much larger and much finer house.
The old woman was lying on a small sofa, propped up by pillows. Her body was bent and twisted almost beyond recognition by the dread disease of multiple sclerosis. Her aged husband spent all his time caring for her since she was unable to move off the sofa.
I walked across the room and kissed her wrinkled cheek. She tried to look up but the muscles I her neck were atrophied so she could only roll her eyes upward and smile. She raised her right hand, slowly, in jerks. IT was the only part of her body she could control and with her gnarled and deformed knuckles she caressed my face. I reached over and kissed the index finger of that hand, for it was with this one finger that she had so long glorified God.
Beside her couch was a vintage typewriter. Each morning her faithful husband would rise, praising the Lord. After caring for his wife’s needs and feeding her a simple breakfast, he would prop her into a sitting position on the couch, placing pillows all around her so she wouldn’t topple over. Then he would move that ancient black typewriter in front of her on a small table. From an old cupboard he would remove a stack of cheap yellow paper. Then, with that blessed one finger, she would begin to type.
All day and far into the night she would type. She translated Christian books into Russian, Latvian, and the language of her people. Always using just that one finger—peck… peck… peck—she typed out the pages. Portions of the Bible, the books of Billy Graham, Watchman Nee, and Corrie ten Boom—all came from her typewriter. That was why I was there—to thank her.
She was hungry to hear news about these men of God she had never met, yet whose books she had so faithfully translated. We talked about Watchman Nee, who was then in a prison in China, and I told her all I knew of his life and ministry. I also told her of the wonderful ministry of Billy Graham and of the many people who were giving their lives to the Lord.
“Not only does she translate their books,” her husband said as he hovered close by during our conversation, “but she prays for these men every day while she types. Sometimes it takes a long time for her finger to hit the key, or for her to get the paper in the machine, but all the time she is praying for those whose books she is working on.”
I looked at her wasted form on the sofa, her head pulled down and her feet curled back under her body. “Oh, Lord, why don’t You heal her?” I cried inwardly.
Her husband, sensing my anguish of soul, gave the answer. “God has a purpose in her sickness. Every other Christian in the city is watched by the secret police. But because she has been sick so long, no one ever looks in on her. They leave us alone and she is the only person in all the city who can type quietly, undetected by the police.”
I looked around at the tiny room, so jammed full of furniture from better days. In one corner was the kitchen. Beside the cupboard was her husband’s “office,” a battered desk where he sorted the pages that came from her typewriter to pass them on to the Christians. I thought of Jesus sitting over against the treasury, and my heart leaped for joy as I heard Jesus bless this sick old woman who, like the widow, had given all she had.
What a warrior!
When she enters the beautiful city
And the saved all around her appear,
Many people around will tell her:
It was you that invited me here.
--Author Unknown
Ellen and I returned to Holland where we were able to obtain a new typewriter and have it shipped to her. Now she could make carbon copies of her translations.
Today we got a letter from her husband. In the early morning hours last week she left to be with the Lord. But, he said, she had worked up until midnight that same night, typing with that one finger to the glory of God.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
What are you thinking??
I spend a lot of time thinking. Believe it or not, I spend more time thinking than I actually spend talking (that should give those of you who think I talk nonstop a very unique perspective…). I looked up a statistic the other day that said we think anywhere from 12,000-50,000 thoughts per DAY. That got me to thinking… again… what would a list of my thoughts in just one day look like? What am I thinking about throughout the day, to come anywhere near 12,000 thoughts… let alone 50,000? If my thoughts were put on display for all to read—would it be filled with mundane dreariness of day to day moments, such as a list of chores I need to accomplish or homework that needs to be finished? Or would it be filled with sarcastic commentary about my view of the world and its idiosyncrasies? Even more importantly… do my thoughts contain more praise to God, or grumbling and complaining about life’s circumstances?
Would I be ashamed of my thoughts, from just one day? Would I be able to read through this list without a profound sense of sorrow and shame for what is listed there? Do I spend more time dwelling upon the things of the earth, or on things above? (Col. 3:2)
Would I proudly stand behind my thoughts as the list were read aloud for the masses to hear? Or would I be ashamed to admit that yes, that’s me on display up there… revealing the darkest parts of my heart for the world to see. Would I admit at that moment, though, that those darkest moments are but just a glimpse of what I know is deep within the recesses? Why not? Perhaps because I do not myself even know all the darkness of my own heart. Mercifully, God doesn’t throw all THAT baggage in my face at one time. I wouldn’t be able to bear it. God is merciful, God is just, and if He were to give me the just penalty for even my thoughts… which is but a glimpse of the evil within me… the condemnation would be fair. But God… (if you want read some of the “but God” statements that I think upon in these moments, check these out: Psalm 75:7; Luke 16:15; Romans 5:8; 1 Cor. 1:27; Ephesians 2:4-10).
It amazes me how much of the Christian life is a battle for the mind—for our thoughts. We are called to set our minds on things above (Col. 3:2), to be transformed by the renewing of our minds (Rom. 12:2; Eph. 4:23), love God with all of our mind (Matthew 22: 37; Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27), because the mind set on the things of this world—on the flesh, as it were—is death (Mark 8:33; Romans 8:6, 7; Ephesians 2:3… to name a few...). Wouldn’t you think this is a convincing enough argument to guard my thoughts? It’s inside of me, though—you can’t see it. How does this justify thinking upon ANYTHING that does not glorify God, though? Just because I can’t be found out, won’t be “caught” for thinking about something that does less than honor who God is… somehow, that makes this okay? Pray tell, in what way is this okay? I like Daniel, in the Old Testament. “But Daniel made up his mind that he would not defile himself with the king's choice food or with the wine which he drank; so he sought permission from the commander of the officials that he might not defile himself.” (Dan. 1:8, NASB). That’s telling, if you ask me. He made a course of action, and stuck to it. How often do I do this? Can I truly pray with the Psalmist, Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there be any hurtful way in me, And lead me in the everlasting way. Psalm 139:23-24 (NASB)?? A friend of mine made this comment in her blog: “…the point of asking (for God to search me, know my thoughts) is the willingness of the sinner to be laid bare before God. It reflects a heart of humble submission before a Holy God.” (if you want to read her whole blog post, look up March 22nd’s post: bc4women.blogspot.com). When I first started to think about this, it sent a cold chill straight down my spine… Am I willing to pray that, and really mean it? Honestly, there isn’t a thought in my mind that God is unaware of—He searches my heart, something I’m not even willing to do! (Jer. 17:10)
I pray a lot for a changed heart in myself—for my thoughts to be consumed with God’s thoughts, with His word. If my thoughts are of His word, of His truth… how different it be, were my 50,000 thoughts a day read aloud to the masses…
Oswald Chambers, in My Utmost for His Highest, says this in his March 23nd devotional:
If the Spirit of God detects anything in you that is wrong, He doesn’t ask you to make it right; He only asks you to accept the light of truth, and then He will make it right. A child of the light will confess sin instantly and stand completely open before God. But a child of the darkness will say, “Oh, I can explain that.” When the light shines and the Spirit brings conviction of sin, be a child of the light. Confess your wrongdoing, and God will deal with it. If, however, you try to vindicate yourself, you prove yourself to be a child of the darkness.
What is the proof that carnality has gone? Never deceive yourself; when carnality is gone you will know it—it is the most real thing you can imagine. And God will see to it that you have a number of opportunities to prove to yourself the miracle of His grace. The proof is in a very practical test. You will find yourself saying, “If this had happened before, I would have had the spirit of resentment!” And you will never cease to be the most amazed person on earth at what God has done for you on the inside.
So… what are you thinking about?
Thursday, February 3, 2011
writing, thoughts and multiple sclerosis
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Biblical Counseling for Women: The Sin of Perfectionism
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
thoughts of my time in Málaga
I've been in Málaga, Spain for a month, more or less. I've had more emotions here than I knew possible to have in one day, from anger, despair, frustration, panic, worry, you name it... to peace that surpasses all understanding, joy, laughter... in general... a harmony of grace that amazes even me. I have been trying to figure out how to summarize this experience concisely, and I'm not sure concise is even possible. A few lessons have stood out: I've learned more and more about patience, relying upon the Lord, and grace; I've learned how very vital it is to communicate clearly; I've learned how precious it is to have people standing behind you in prayer as you face days that feeeeeeeel overwhelmingly impossible. I have seen God completely revolutionize my thinking in several areas, test me in ways that I never would (or could) have imagined... overall, completely blessed me in ways that I never anticipated. A lot of the lessons I've learned here, I wouldn't have learned in the States. I HAD to be outside of my comfort zone; I had to be somewhere where the only one I could rely upon was the Lord. I have learned when things are rough--I turn to people over turning to God. A lot of people do this, instinctively... we want to HEAR reassurance, correction, guidance... we sit and pray about it, looking at the sky waiting for an airplane to appear and write directions. It doesn't work this way. God will do whatever it takes to get your attention--for me, that included dropping me off in another country where I struggle with the language and culture without another to rely upon for help. In the midst of all of that, God was not far... when I hit my personal breaking point, when I wasn't sure how to go on one more day, God provided the strength to go on... and when I hit that wall again, more strength and encouragement came my way. By the end of the second week I broke--I didn't know HOW to go about the next day, even, and just fell flat on my face. If the Lord didn't intervene at that point, I was toast. That night I was put in contact with another American missionary who helped change the entire tone of this trip for me. When I was truly at the end of my rope, God made a way of escape for me. I saw 1 Cor. 10:13 come to life, again: "No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, so that you will be able to endure it." And yes, the context of this verse is idolatry. So how does it apply in THIS situation? What amazed me the MOST those first two weeks revolved around how many little idols I had creeping around in my heart and life. Fear, even, can become an idol, take on its own life. It can dominate your thoughts, life, everything, to where all you can think about is the fear--and completely lose sight of God. I was reading about the life and ministry of Paul, and this verse jumped out at me-- 1Cr 2:3 NASB - I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling,-- PAUL WAS FEARFUL?! That made me stop in my path. If Paul was fearful, then why was I surprised at how fearful I felt? The difference, though, was Paul's response to the fear... read the entire passage:
1Cr 2:1-5 NASB - And when I came to you, brethren, I did not come with superiority of speech or of wisdom, proclaiming to you the testimony of God. For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling, and my message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God.
Paul never let his fear stop him from being about God's work. I allowed fear to paralyze me, for a while. Paul's faith never ceases to amaze me... and he certainly did not walk an easy road. It was quite lonely. But he was never alone. His speech was a demonstration of the Spirit of God and His power. That has been one of my greatest comforts... even when I am the most alone, I am never truly alone... and if I am speaking words of Life, the word of God, into another's life... I am to trust His word will not return void, and rest in the power of God to make His word effective in their lives. To simply be in a position to speak into another's life, even if to simply plant a seed pointing them to Jesus, is an honor I do not ever want to take for granted. Evangelism is not a burden... it is a privilege. How easy we forget this.
These past two weeks have been lessons of a different kind, for me. Instead of isolated, by myself, apart from English speakers and familiar culture, I have been staying with another American. She speaks my language; her home has all the creature comforts of American culture, including a TV with movies, in ENGLISH... it has been a wonderful time for me, to fellowship, enjoy the country, but have a place to retreat away from the stresses of another culture. It has helped me to see what daily living as a missionary in a foreign field is truly like. The absolute necessity of self motivation and innovation has left its impression on me. You don't have a boss here, telling you what to do, when to do it, how to go about it... you have to be driven to do it without another urging you along. You must have your focus about you-- know what you are here to do, and do it. I have had two tasks before me during this trip--teach an English class three days a week and input a lot of information into a database for the community center. One aspect involves interacting with people--one does not. When I look at these two sides of ministry I have had the opportunity to be a part of, I see the most impact in the data entry over teaching. In teaching, I have the chance to interact with people, but very little (if any) spiritual conversation happens. As a matter of fact, in the center, there isn't spiritual conversation. That ministry is purely to build bridges and relationships with people with the hopes of speaking into their lives outside the center. I haven't had one conversation that even mentions the name of Jesus. Has this been a waste of time? Not at all!! It is not what we picture ministry to be, in the States... in our evangelism classes at seminaries and bible colleges, it was an 'unsuccessful' contact if you did not present the gospel and lead them in a prayer to receive Jesus as their Lord and Savior. We lose the concept of building bridges, relationships. I will not be here in five days to have a conversation with someone, if the Lord gives the opportunity--others will be. Prayerfully, by my contribution in teaching a class to a bunch of kids and a few adults, another bridge was built. That, in my opinion, is a success. The data entry, however--I am able to contribute in a way that is meaningful to the workers at the center. I am able to take a project off their hands and get it going, when they do not have the time to do so. It blesses me, to be able to bless them. For this... I am exceedingly thankful.
A few weeks ago, the thought of returning here for ANY reason in ministry was ludicrous. There was NO WAY I would willingly step back into this situation willingly, for long term. Seeing things change, though, the past two weeks--has given me time to reevaluate. I don't know what the future holds... I can't say that I know for sure there is a ministry here I would want to be a part of, even. But I also cannot say that I would not come back, if the Lord leads. My life is not my own; I am a vessel in His hands to do what He wants to do with me. That may not be overseas, it may be right in Kansas City, even. But, to be a vessel, to be used... that... is an honor I can't even put into words. God will do what He wants with what is His... and I am thankful to proclaim KNOW that I am HIS, and He can do whatever He wants with me... may that be shuffling papers in an office, serving in missions, singing with the worship team at church, scrubbing toilets or anything else you can think of... none of it is for my glory. For HIS glory, and that alone... Soli Deo Gloria!