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.

 

Just sitting …

Next week I’m going to the beach.  It is for a retreat with our other missionary friends in West Africa that we call WAMR.  Usually it is held at Coconut Grove in Elmina, Ghana and this year will be no exception.  It is a wonderful time of renewal, but I usually don’t come back very renewed.  It might be because the hotel also has a nine hole golf course and I usually spend my renewal time trying to get the little white orb to go in the little white cup.

I think this year I am going to spend more time … just sitting.

This is not like a new year’s resolution.  This is the me I’m becoming.  I am beginning to see the value of just sitting.  For when I just sit, I hear things, like the ocean, like the laughter of my children, like the songs of various birds, like the beautiful voice of my wife, and other amazing things.  I see things that normally escape my line of sight.

Before you all jump on me about saying that I can’t go to Coconut Grove without playing golf, I must say that you are absolutely right.  It would not be the correct thing to do.  It is tradition that I hit the ball, several times.  I am just vowing ahead of time to opt out of a few rounds and just sit while taking in the wonder of God.

Wish you could be there with us, just sitting,

praising Him for all He has done, and dreaming of all that He is going to do.

The Lord has done great things for us and we are filled with joy.  Psalm 126:3

 

Did I really just do that?

There are many ways to be overwhelmed by God’s beauty and underwhelmed (that should be a word, shouldn’t it) by your own strength or lack of thereof. In those moments of smallness face to face with God’s greatness, vocabulary becomes limited to things like wow and primeval yells. There is really nothing like it.

Had that today here in Togo as Tucker and I strapped ourselves to parachutes and ran off the side of a mountain. Watching Tucker go was … wow. Going myself was … WOW. Incredible and so refreshing to be loved by such a great God and enjoy his beauty in such unexpected ways. The mountains, valleys, clouds, wind, birds, trees, rocks all screaming in unison, “GLORY!” And then there you are, sailing along with nothing between you and a very long fall to earth. WOW, the parachute really works.

Faith is the WOW of our lives. It is faith and hope coming together bound by our weakness and his strength, and love. Then, WOW, he comes in and rescues, saves, intervenes, heals,

and we cry,

GLORY.

Cool thing was that we did it for $30 each.

 

In rehab …

from our eight month long furlough in the states, I am observing that it is not an easy, laid back, ten step program.  In fact it will take many miles of steps to undue the damage from Tostitos and Rotel having reestablished themselves in my life.

Furlough made me fat.  Well, the heat of Togo and the overall low fat life is doing a number on that.

Furlough made me weak.  Living for that long and just speaking one language can make you a bit lazy.  Each day now it is back to at least four (Eve, French, Kinyarwanda, and then of course English).  Did I mention the heat?  Average house temperature is at 95.  I think we usually kept the thermostat at 74.  Did I really go skiing in New York?  Please someone remind me about when I fell into a snowdrift of four feet.  Maybe it is because I ran over Frosty in my front yard.

It is really hot here.

Weak, out of shape, fat, and sweaty missionaries back from a fur-long in the good old US of A.  Back to the life or maybe I should say back to life or at least back from a coma of sorts.  America puts me to sleep.  It lulls me into a spiritual stupor.  I forget my commitments to pray and intercede.  Everything gets kind of fuzzy and gray.  I get full of pop theology and hip philosophy as the distance grows between me and those I’m serving.  Then … wham, we are back.  The airplane door opens and the heat of West Africa almost pushes us back onto the plane.  The alarm goes off and we wake up.  Complaining, of course, but deep inside … there’s a smile.  Real deep joy.  Satisfaction from being useful again.  Contentment from knowing what we’re about and living purposefully.  Failure is there as well, for we are so very weak and pitiful.  Hope floods in, my if he can use us then what will he do with them?  Joy and peace and grace wash over us like a waterfall, cold and clear.  Refreshed.

Rehabillitated and refreshed, because we are here, where He wants us to be, doing what He wants us to do.

 

Heading north for the winter

A blizzard had set in. A “Nor-easter” was on its way. We headed straight for it. It has been years (about four and a half) since the boys had seen snow. Now, though, after driving for nine hours, over two through white out conditions edging Lake Erie, we have made it to New York state, up-state that is, for a little skiing. God has and continues to provide the snow.  At this point we are hoping we will actually make the last hour’s drive up to the mountain.  The boys are ready to provide the excitement as they are all amped up and geared up for this occasion.  Only now are they realizing that this is way beyond the building of snow forts and Frosty.  So, this week expect a few entries about the wonders of snowy New York and Holiday Valley.  If you think it couldn’t get any better than skiing right after a blizzard, then you need to hold on to your hats, because tonight we are staying in none other than Jamestown, New York.  Yes, you are correct, it is the one and only birthplace of none other than Lucille Ball.  Louise is out of her mind with excitement and will not let us get out of town to go skiing until she has made her rounds at the Lucy and Desi museum for the premium price of six dollars.  Do pray for us to stay out of the ER and for us to have a great time of refreshing enjoying God’s creative wonders.

 

SCC

I heard about the concert several months ago. I wanted to go immediately, but, you know, sometimes we even procrastinate doing the things that would bless us greatly (especially if it involves money). Then, I just forgot altogether. It would play out that on a busy Saturday while we were hurrying between soccer games and feeding our little troop; we heard that the concert for Stephen Curtis Chapman was that night. Well, not to miss out on the fun, especially that which I wanted to participate in so much earlier; and even though I had my sermon and class to still write for Sunday (which I knew that God could handle), we decided to go with our friends the Wheelers. The boys impressions were varied. It’s LOUD, was the most common comment. Mostly, though, they danced around and clapped for about ninety minutes and then started, one at a time (from youngest to oldest) dropping where they stood. I guess the soccer matches caught up with them. For Louise and I, though, the concert held great nostalgia. We were amazed at all the songs that he sang that had been used by God in our lives to speak to us about missions such as “The Great Adventure” and “For the Sake of the Call”. It was a wonderful night and we were really blessed. Oddly, even though I was so tired physically, I was deeply renewed spiritually. In the end we woke the seemingly dead sons of ours and headed for the car with sleepy smiles. Upon arrival at home, I thought, “You know, that kind of inspired me, I really ought to think about becoming a missionary.”