Where Is My Super Suit?

There is a temptation for a missionary to think of herself as a sort of super hero, a savior, a rescuer. We kind of like being needed. And if we think that we have some indispensible wisdom, tool, or key to the Gospel, then we're quite likely to enter our host culture with our hands on our hips, chest puffed out, and a "Aren't you glad that I showed up!?!" attitude.

But then if we aren't needed, why do we go? 

Oh, but I think we are needed. The question is not "Is there a need?" The question is "What is the need?" And maybe even more importantly, we need to ask, "What is my best contribution?" Must the foreign missionary always lead the charge? Or might my best contribution be a listening ear, a helping hand, and a teachable spirit?

The challenge is that most Americans don't know how to show up just to be present and participate. We're typically trained, equipped, and sent as leaders, and by the US understanding of "leader," that means that we're going to have our own plans and vision and goals. We have mission statements! We have resources! We have know-how! We have funding! 

We come to do. We're comforable in capes.

But what if we came like Jesus?

What if we asked more questions? What if we gave away our power? What if we dined with more sinners, washed more feet, and carried more crosses? What if we lived by the upside-down principals of the Kingdom, and really did take the lowest place? Will I enter in humbly, and only move to a place of honor and visibility if invited by my host?

I think there is a fear among us, those who go to foreign places for the sake of the Gospel. The fear is that if we aren't fixing and solving, we're failing. But what if we're called to participate rather than initiate? What if we're meant to be the servant rather than the leader? What if our presence is more valuable than our presentations? Will I enter into the work that robs me of my super hero persona? Can I have goals and ambitions for the Kingdom of God that don't put me on top? Can I write a mission statement that is based on yielding, listening, and joining?

Can we consider the possibility that as strangers, we might be wise to yield to our indigenous brothers and sisters? Or will we assume that God only calls us to lead? 

All the way back in 1907, during the height of the missionary era, V.S. Azariah, the first Bishop in India, said, "No country can be fully evangelized except by its native sons." He went on the speak at the first World Missionary Conference in Edinburgh saying,"Through all the ages to come the Indian church will rise up in gratitude to attest the heroism and self-denying labors of the missionary body. You have given your goods to feed the poor. You have given your bodies to be burned. We ask for love. Give us FRIENDS."

Can I be content to give love? To be a friend to the French Church? Or will I worry that I just won't have enough bullet points in my newsletter if I'm not running the show?

More recently, missiologists such as David Garrison of the International Mission Board have studied church multiplication movements and noted that whenever a movement happens, "local leaders, and not outside ministers or missionaries, give direction to the movement and take responsibility for it."

When French people ask us what we are doing here, we tell them that we are here to support the National Council of French Evangelicals' goal to have one church for every 10,000 people in France. We are here to join their efforts in facilitating a church planting movement. But then we are quick to say that we are not leading the church planting team here in Lyon. We believe that French people will plant the best French churches. We are here to help. To serve. To encourage. To bless. And we are thrilled to be in the helper roles. 

We hope to open a regional training center, to equip and empower French church planters, but even there we will work with and yield to French leadership. 

Does that mean that I no longer consider myself a leader? Of course not. I can't help being a leader. That is who God made me to be. But my understanding of what a leader does and how a leader can lead are definitely changing. I am leaning more and more into flat models of leadership and gaining a deep appreciation for collaborative work. There are venues where I am blazing a trail (I can't help it!) but I'm making sure that I'm building a coalition on the way, inviting other leaders in, and benefiting from mutual submission from the start. 

I am leading differently. I am listening more. And amazingly, I am seeing more fruit. 

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...and the meditation of my heart

This morning, as I sat with the Lord, Psalm 19:14 came to mind:

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart

    be acceptable in your sight,

    O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

It's a familiar Psalm, and one that I often pray. And I often pray it because, well, let's face it, the words of my mouth get me into a lot of trouble. At best, I'm painfully direct, and at worst I'm disrespectful and self-righteous. Sometimes the things that come out my my mouth offend my very own ears, so I'm sure that they are not acceptable in the sight of the Lord. Nevertheless, redemption is woking its way to my tongue, and little by little, I find myself speaking with greater care. 

This morning, I was drawn to the second phrase of this prayer: "and the meditation of my heart." As I am learning to submit to the Spirit-lead censorship of my speech, I am becoming more aware of the thought patterns from which my words proceed. Are my thoughts, my inner musings, my mental tapes pleasing to God? Are they acceptable in His sight?

Oh how I long for sanctification to seep beyond behavior modification and move deep into the inner-workings of my heart and my mind! Jesus once reprimanded the Pharisees because they had perfected their outward allegiance to the Law without having surrendered the motives of their hearts. He tells them that they are like cups that are clean on the outside but dirty on the inside. 

The Psalmist was insightful with this prayer. It's not simply what comes out of us that matters. God sees my thoughts. And that's an interesting use of words, isnt it? The Paslmist doesn't ask for his words and thoughts to be acceptable in God's hearing, but in God's sight. For God, words are visible. Just as the WORD took on flesh and dwelt among us. 

God isn't simply hearing my thoughts, He's seeing my thoughts. What does He see today?

Does He see a troubled, anxious child, fretting over things despite her Father's promise to meet her every need? Or does He see a content daughter, fearless, and hopeful for the future?

Does He see unkind thoughts towards another that He deeply loves? Or does He see compassion, generosity of spirit, and grace?

Does He see scheming and calculating over a problem that seems insurmountable? Or does He see a confident faith that rests secure in every circumstance?

Father, I want my thoughts to be acceptable to you. When my mind is spinning out of control, when I'm stewing over an issue, when I'm angry and hurt, will you turn my heart to you so that the things I think are pleasant for you to see. And when I'm filled with excitement, resting in Your peace, or overflowing with gratitude, take joy, my King, in what you see. 

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Out of Balance

Yesterday I learned something a little disturbing about myself: I'm lopsided.

An x-ray revealed that the cause of my hip pain is a 1.3 cm difference between the height of my hips, which may in fact be related to a car accident that I was in over a year ago. While trying to avoid hitting the car that suddenly stopped in front of me, while my right foot was firmly tensed up pressing the brake pedal, I was rear-ended. My hip took the shock, and got a little boost in height.

I need to go back to my doctor to discuss treatment options, but the radiologist suggested that it could be as simple as putting inserts in my left shoe to even me out. This would then relieve the extra pressure that my hip is bearing trying to compensate for the imbalance, and theoretically, the soreness should go away.

Isn't it interesting how a small problem can create intense discomfort? How a hidden injury can go unnoticed for months, and then seemingly suddenly become a major pain? Our bodies aren't the only things in our lives that must be balanced to be healthy. So as I sit here (probably at a slant!) I find myself wondering if I might be out of balance in other ways.

When work overtakes me and rest escapes me, I get out of balance.

When playing golf on the PlayStation replaces my daily walk, I get out of balance.

When FaceBook connections get more attention than family relations, I get out of balance.

When worries about moving occupy more of my thinking than the joys in the moment, I get out of balance.

When expenditures surpass income, I get out of balance.

When administrative tasks absorb the time that should be given to creative endeavors, I get out of balance.

Summer is a great time to take an X-Ray of my life to see where I may need to make some minor adjustments. Most committments are on "pause" and so I have the opportunity to evaluate where I need to put more weight, and where I need to lighten the load. It also gives me a chance to consider where I have had a sudden jolt that may have produced a hidden injury and caused me to compensate in unhealthy ways.

David and I usually take time around our anniversary (August 22) to do that very thing. It is a time of reflection and recalibration so that we can make needed course corrections for the coming year. David makes a chart (of course he does!) that helps us to identify our major role/activities and take stock of where we are and where we would like to be. We look at both individual pursuits and things that we do together. We actually give ourselves and each other "grades" in each arena so that we can easily see where things are going well and where we need to do some work.

Therefore, strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble, and make straight paths for your feet, so that the limb which is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed. Hebrews 12: 12-13

What do you do to "x-ray" your life and make needed adjustments so that you don't get out of balance?

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Dog Fight

The religious men were right.

They caught a woman in the act of adultery, and they brought her to Jesus looking for a pronouncement of judgement. Just in case Jesus had forgotten the rules, they quoted their Bibles:

"In the law Moses commanded us to stone to death such women."

The religious pick up rocks, but Jesus begins to write in the dirt.

His quiet response unnerves them. Can't this so-called prophet see that Israel is going to hell in a handbasket? So they keep on pressing. Each of them making a case against this woman with the hashtag #Truthwins.

But Jesus didn't need reminding of the truth. There, in the public arena, Jesus makes the poignant choice to hold his tongue.

And the crowd closes in. They have the right to thow their stones, and they want Jesus to validate their actions. But Jesus doesn't give them what they want. When he senses his silence is not being heard, he finally speaks. But his  judgement is not against the woman. Instead, he simply says, "Whoever among you is guiltless may be the first to throw a stone at her."

And he went back to writing in the dirt.

One by one, beginning with the oldest, the people began to drop their stones.

#Lovewins?

Not so fast. Once the crowd had gone, Jesus kindly confronts the woman whose life he just saved from the religious right. There is no condemnation, but there is a word of loving truth. "Go and sin no more."

As I watch the debate over gay marraige unfold in the new public arena of social media, I wonder if we don't have a lesson to learn from Jesus.

Many seem to believe that speaking out against sin in the public arena  is a demonstration of faith. But Jesus refused to get into the fray EXCEPT to protect the sinner who was being attacked.

Others seem to think that there is never a time to pass judgement or confront sin. But Jesus refused to turn a blind eye to sin. The difference is that Jesus confronted sin personally, after having demonstrated a love that put his own reputation at risk.

In fact, in the public arena, Jesus was much more likely to confront the religious for their sin, than those who had no knowledge of the law. We seem to get it backwards. We confront sin in the pulic arena and coddle it in the church. I've heard very few sermons in the church on greed, even though the average Christian gives less than 2% of their income. I've only ever heard one sermon on gluttony, even though the church is full of people who are in bondage to that sin.

So we keep pretty quiet about sin in the church and get vocal about it in the world.

And I can't even imagine how it must grieve our Father in heaven that we have thrown Truth and Love in the ring to fight it out like dogs. Then we go to the public arena and cheer for our dog with hashtags.

Both Truth and Love belong to Jesus, and one can't win at the expense of the other. Before we start declaring who wins, maybe we better asks who loses. 

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The Work of the Sabbath

Life is full. I resist using the word "busy" because it has too many negative connotations. I delight in and gladly welcome the wealth of opportunities that are before me at the moment. Yet. Yet, I am at risk of being overtaken, overwhelmed, overcome.

The To-Do list is long and growing while deadlines are fast approaching. I'm beginning to worry that I won't get it all done in time. I'm starting to fear that I won't do it well. And so I woke up this morning tempted to do something that I almost never do: work on my Sabbath.

You see, in crunch time, I start to think that if I put in a few extra hours on my day off, I'll be doing myself a favor. I'll be taking the edge off of the teetering pile of tasks so that life will just be a bit more manageable come tomorrow. After all, who can even relax while being haunted by waiting work?

Some days sabbath is easy--a welcome respite. But some days sabbath is hard. It is an act of outright defiance againt my sin nature--a refusal to believe the lie that my life work is more important than my life.

Sabbath is a brazen act of faith that screams, "NO!" to the spirit of self-importance. Sabbath is a peaceful protest against the tyrrany of the urgent. Sabbath is trust in action through intentional inaction. It is not a luxury for the lazy, but God-ordained time-out for the workaholic.

It goes against every fiber of human reason, stands in opposition to prinicipals of productivity, and defies the laws of time management. But Sabbath is probably the most fruitful weekly endeavor one can pursue.

And so today I will rest.

I will not work on PowerPoint presentations for tomorrow''s sermons in French and in English.

I will not write the final message for my speaking engagement at a retreat next weekend.

I will not download the conference materials for the European Leadership Forum that is just around the corner.

I will not work on the meditations for the Learning Community in the first week of June.

I will not read books for school, or write responses to emails, or compose a newsletter.

I will not bathe the dog or change my sheets, though both have been long neglected.

Instead, I will set all of those things aside, trusting them into the capable hands of a God who never slumbers nor sleeps. I will struggle to rest so that I can endure the rest of the struggle. And by my rest I declare to my soul, "You are NOT in charge! Sit still, be quiet, and breathe. The LORD of the Sabbath is near, behold him, adore him, receive him. There is no greater work than this."

Instead of working on the Sabbath, I will let the Sabbath work on me.

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I am the Lame Man

I have been Miriam, leading the people of God in the praises of the Most High. I have danced and sung before the Lord with the abandon of David. I have been stunned and silenced like Isaiah. 

I have been Peter, impetuous but sincere in my devotion to Jesus. I have jumped out of the boat just to be near to him. I have preached with the conviction of Paul, passionate to proclaim freedom to prisoners. I have been John the Beloved, convinced beyond a doubt of my Savior's love for me.

I have been the father of the mute boy, wavering in my faith but desperate in my need. I have thirsted after living water with the woman at the well, longing for someone to just tell me who I am. I have been the bleeding woman, desperately reaching to touch the hem of His garment.

I have been Mary, breaking my vase of expensive perfume to show my Lord how deeply I love him. I have been raised from death and breathed life anew like Lazarus. I have been the man born blind, given sight so that the work of God might be revealed through me.

But today I am the lame man, broken and helpless. Dead weight on my mat, my friends are carrying me. I am the burden that others are bearing, the one who needs healing but is helpless to seek it out for myself. My friends climb the stairs to the roof, dirty their hands to make a way for me draw near to Jesus. They gain nothing for themselves, but by their acts of love, I am brought to the feet of the healer. And there I find hope. 

There are times when I resist such tender expressions of kindness, not wanting to "impose" on friends. No one likes to be needy. And then there are times when I am painfully aware of the reality of my own neediness. I not only need healing, I need help getting to the healer. And so I lay back on my mat,  while tears of gratitude flow from my eyes for those who will bear my weight. 

And what is the first thing the healer says?

"Your sins are forgiven."

Yes. There before the crowd of strangers and in the intimacy of my dearest friends I am called out. The reality of my sickness revealed for what it really is, I am crippled inside and out. And yet, with those words, the burden is lighter. Yes, I feel better already. But I'm still lame. Awaiting the secondary healing that will serve as proof of the primary. In the Bible these two healings are just moments apart, but I find that is not how it always happens for me.

And so I rejoice. My sins are forgiven! 

And I wait for the healer's next move. 

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Popping the Cork!

Tonight we are celebrating! David is going to be flying again.

We learned today that David's request for a new visa has been approved! He is being granted a three-year card that will give him the right to work in France. 

Back in June he was approached by a man who owns an air taxi service in Orléans. The business owner has planes that are all US registered, and David's licenses allow him to fly a plane anywhere in the world as long as  it has a US tail number. David will be employed to fly individuals (typically business owners) to and from various locations on a contract basis. He will not have steady hours, though he will be able to take and turn down work as he chooses, and he should be able to set his schedule weeks in advance. He hopes to work just one or two days a week--which would go a long way in helping to pay my educational expenses without taking David away from his ministry here. So the whole family benefits!

Join us in praising God for this provision. David loves to fly! The fact that he will earn a few euros on the side is icing on the cake. 

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