Peace rules.

Odd title, I realize.  It is something I am investigating.

Colossians 3:15 says, “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace.  And be thankful.”

O.k.

Now, I see from the passages surrounding this that Paul is talking about relationships, but surely this “ruling” peace goes deeper than that.

We are faced with lots of unanswered questions every day as we think and plan for our transition to Rwanda.  I could list them but I would definitely exceed my alloted ten minutes.  As we consider these details, both spiritual and physical for our move, though, we usually feel anything but peaceful.  In fact they tend to kind of pile up and become a sort of …

burden.

Oh, yeah, didn’t Jesus mention that?

Matthew 11:28-30 says, “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

So, yeah, here we all are with our various burdens, challenges, struggles, etc… and Jesus is offering us peace and Paul is saying, “Let it rule.”  How do we do that?  How do we submit these worries to the rule of Christ’s peace?

10 minutes are up.  Reply if you like.

Shalom.

 

hanging out

That is me, there in the middle, hanging by the homemade rope; at least that is how I feel on some days anyway.

This poor lizard was still breathing when we saw him, but I’m not sure he made it for much longer. He seemed to be on his way out.

We are hosting interns right now. Where did they get all that energy? Where has ours gone?

They do bring a great bit of liveliness with them, though, and we keep pace, for a while, and then we kind of resemble the lizard at left.

Worn out and hanging by a thread.

It’s worth it though. I love telling the stories to them, the stories of faith and God’s power. In fact, it actually revives me quite a bit.

Thought in my next few posts I would revisit some of those stories with you all and maybe they’ll revive me enough to bite that guys kneecap.

Maybe they’ll encourage you too. I hope so.

 

Scary Moment

Have you ever had one, a scary moment, where you realized, in an instant, that you had crossed a certain line, usually placed ambiguously, and there was no turning back, no ‘do-over’s.

These moments don’t have to be enshrouded with dark mysterious music, creaks, and screams. Often they come in the quiet moments of a conversation. Usually it is the surprise that gets you.

Isn’t that the way it is? “SURPRISE”!

I was just having a casual conversation over lunch with a missionary colleague from Burkina Faso the other day and the next thing I knew, while I was responding to a question, he took out a little note pad and started taking notes.

Terror gripped me.

Some of you may be laughing at this moment. You are enjoying the irony. You want to guffaw at the thought of me being quotable as you bask in the memories of the Marty of old. Yes, I find it truly ironic and very laughable as well.

Anyway, I trust Andy implicitly. It wasn’t a terror from potential entrapment, I have had those as well. It was, instead, the realization that he considered something I said worth remembering. That is a scary moment; when you become aware of the weight of your words.

Not everybody takes notes. A lot of people just listen and remember. Sometimes words not too well remembered can get us in grave danger. I think I prefer the note-takers because at least they are a visual reminder that you just might be quoted on that at a later date.

Experience creeps up on us. It has now been almost eleven years for us in Togo. We’ve been through and learned quite a bit, but still find ourselves lacking! To quote me is a risky move, although, just the thought that I might be quoted really brings me into check to consider my words before they escape me. In any consideration of me fulfilling the “mentor” / teacher role, though, I mentally reread James 3:1:

“Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.”

So, forgive my hesitation, the next time you ask me a question. I’m just considering my options for reply.

 

You have got to be kidding me!

I was shocked by what I saw in Lome last Friday at my mechanic’s “shop”. One of his apprentices walked by and I did a double take. Calling him over for inspection confirmed my suspicions. He had escaped from his previous employer and had found his way to Togo. He even still had his Wal*Mart vest on.

Could this be a mirage? Upon further investigation he revealed that he is Togolese and has never left. Alas, does this mean there is now a Wal*Mart in Togo, for here before my very eyes was a “vested” employee (albeit of the mechanical persuasion)?

Or is this the reality washing up on the shores of Togo, West Africa? Wal*Mart is now so prolific that

employee clothes are for sale in the third world.

Or is this a foreshadowing of Wal*Mart’s future ventures into the African market?

Oh that we could waltz into a Wal*Mart with ease and take a gander at the multitude of products lining the shelves.

Sigh.

 

Ten minutes?

O.K., I have a confession.  In my desire to write with wit and depth I regularly go for quite a bit longer than ten minutes.  Maybe I should change it to

thirty minute musings which take  two minutes to read

Or maybe what is true is that it would take others only ten minutes to muse conclusively what it takes me thirty minutes to arrive at.

Forgiven?

Thanks.  I feel much better now.

I’ll just keep the title if that is o.k.  It is kind of African of me anyway.  Why just the other day when Tucker and I headed up the mountain to take our jump we couldn’t find a taxi cab.  So we just began walking up the road.  I thought, well, it shouldn’t take too long.  Then, after five minutes I saw someone coming down and I asked this woman how long it would take to get to the top.  She, who was not wearing a watch, volunteered that 30 minutes would be sufficient for the journey.  Tucker and I began marching briskly and only about 30 percent of the way up and thirty minutes later did I realize the gross error that I had made.  Blessedly two motorcycle taxis showed up just after my confessing this miscalculation to Tucker and him forgiving me.  They hauled us to the top for a mere dollar each and we flew.

So, I guess in an African sort of way ten minutes can be anywhere from five to fifty.

There I go, self-justification at its best.

 

Sometimes …

There are days, you know the kind, when things just don’t go as planned. Like when the electricity starts flowing into the house at around 300 volts instead of 220 and lights begin to pop and suddenly the microwave has lost the will to live. Death by electrocution. This comes as an acute shock as your supply of propane gas for your stove has just run out at the same time as the rest of the entire country, literally. Then you begin the hunt for the last remaining bottle of propane in the country, you find it, and they say it is not really there. You say, “What?” It is before your very eyes within your reach even, but, denied. They refuse to sell it to you. Then you go home to watch your wife cook on the hot plate, and your thankful the electricity hasn’t gone off, yet. The water is still on, so while you are cooking the fourth course on the one hot plate you dash out to fill the washing machine, and you forget. You proceed to fill the entire laundry room with three inches of water, but the machine is full now and the kids get to earn extra x-box time if they mop up all the water and if there is still electricity and if the x-box survives 300 volts. Sometimes it just takes a lot of energy to live.

You consider simplification, but think it would be too boring. You might actually have time to pray. You might not have so much stuff that is susceptible to electrocution. You might even throw a ball with your son or look into your wife’s eyes and remember how much you love her. You might have time to see the sights, smell the roses, and do all the other unregrettables, that we don’t have time for now, because of the maintenance of our so very complicated and cluttered lives.

Sometimes we almost consider a change, but then again, why would we want to do that? We would have to give up so much.