I really wanted to take pictures this week, but I didn’t out
of respect for God’s work.
So, you will just have to imagine it…
750+ people gathered under an outdoor amphitheater, arms
wrapped around each other singing, “The Spirit of the Lord is in this place” as
the sun is setting across the lake.
Picture voices lifted high singing the Doxology loud enough to be heard
all the way to heaven, under bright blue skies with the flags of the nations
blowing in the breeze overhead.
It has been an interesting week. There is always a bit of
the magic of the Holy Spirit breezing its way through the New Wilmington
Mission Conference. There is a bit of
magic of the Spirit in the time of preparation leading up to it. And, this
year, I admit, there was more than my fair share of frustration by things that
were completely out of my control that left me angry and frustrated and on the
verge of tears I refused to shed a few times.
I knew those things were out of my control. I knew there
wasn’t a thing I could do to change them and I didn’t know why I was so upset
about things so stupid they defied all reason.
I still don’t, but perhaps that is part of the story, unwinding,
unraveling, untangling, the pieces of the past in order to be free to embrace
what the future may bring.
A few highlights from my week…
…reconnecting with old friends and co-workers, sharing
stories, love and laughter…
…making new friends and learning about their work and their
callings…
…The fun of watching the junior high kids learn that part of
mission is working in groups and the whole group has to work together to
accomplish the goal, passing a washer on a string around the circle without
using your hands. We also have to work
closely in partnership and pray together as they helped each other make prayer
bracelets. And finally to remember that
God’s eye is always on them as individually they made God’s eyes to take with
them. The looks on their faces as they
problem solved, the leaders that emerged, the seriousness they took each
other’s prayer concerns and their focus as they made their God’s eyes.
…What a joy to watch the youngest of eight children in his
family, who had only relocated to the US in the last couple of weeks, emerge
from the shadows and take the lead as he told the boys in his group, “You don’t
know how to play football the African way” then proceed to show them how, as he
directed the other boys to be the cattle in the cattle camp, and they did just
what he said, lowing and mooing their way around the room. A box full of scarves became lauas as the
girls dressed each other in native South Sudanese styles as they laughed and
paraded around the room learning through play acting about life in a far off
land.
…I love the sound of students coming up the stairs laughing,
talking, so full of life and of hope. I love hearing their stories of how their
lives have been transformed this week. I won’t soon forget the girl who told me
she learned to forgive. In the past if someone wronged her she just shut them
out of her life, now she knows she has to forgive and continue to be a part of
their lives.
Another said one of the best things he learned this week was
to never give up, even when the going is rough, keep going.
I showed a video of a teenage girl from South Sudan
explaining what it was to run during the recent outbreak of fighting there. The video was clips of her going through her
day in a refugee camp. Tears poured down her face as she said “I just want to
go home. I just want to know where my family is. I just want to know if they
are alive or dead.” As the video closed I looked across the room to see a bunch
of rough and tough high school boys with tears shining in their eyes and on
their faces. Not one was embarrassed by them.
They quietly left the room, visibly touched by her story. If nothing
else happens this week, I pray they leave with a new or renewed appreciation of
the lives they are blessed with.
I didn’t know I was working with the high school kids until
I got there. I wasn’t prepared to teach them.
And, I certainly wasn’t prepared for the ways they touched my heart and
my life.
…I am so full of gratitude for meeting people I consider
heroes and find myself, discussing ice cream flavors with one of the greatest
theologians of our time.
…Standing in the kitchen sharing paper plates as one of the
greatest missiologists of our times, quietly says “no, take more” as he hands
me plates and silverware to share with my house mates.
…I am in awe of his words that told me that something I said
had inspired him, as he said he would never forget the Homeless Jesus story or
the pot that never was empty until the last one was fed at the Church on the
Slab. We spent some time earlier in the day having a conversation about just
general things, their plans, where they would travel next, what I was doing,
and some time just sitting in silence enjoying a beautiful day that was a gift
from God.
I love the laughter that came during the week as we spotted
each other and he would ask, “Have you seen my wife”? , in his beautiful
Scottish brogue. We all laughed over and over after I told them I thought if
they were birds he would be the Wise Old Owl, patiently sitting and waiting,
saying “where? Where? Where is my wife?” and she would be the humming bird,
flitting all over the place.
….I thought it was the worst presentation ever! The person doing the singing before the
introduction, ran 15 minutes over schedule forcing me to cram my 30 minute
presentation down to about 10 – videos, slides and all. Then the videos didn’t
work and the person running the slides didn’t have the script so the slides
ended up running out of sync. The sound
system wasn’t loud enough to play the music… You name it. It went wrong! I just wanted a “do over”! Of, course, I can’t have that. So, I have
been feeling a bit, discombobulated about that.
I felt like I didn’t do justice to God’s story and I felt bad about
that. I want to honor God.
As we left the lecture hall a few people said, nice job,
more out of politeness than because I did a good job, I thought. The next
morning, several stopped me and genuinely said, I want you to know your story
inspired me to not give up when the road is hard.
On the way back from pizza tonight a beautiful, quiet, soft spoken
lady from Malawi, told me I had inspired her to become a missionary. ME??? No way! She quietly said, no
you. Your story inspired me. I want to
go to my country and be a missionary and go and help others.
Hmmmm…. From the worst presentation ever … people were
inspired to not give up… eating ice cream alongside of one of the greatest
missiologists of our time, I learn he was touched and will never forget a story
I told about Homeless Jesus and the pot that was never empty until the last person had been fed.
The worst presentation ever, inspired the lady from Malawi
to become a missionary…
God does answer our prayers. He DID take my words and send
them to where He intended them to go and he did use them to do His will, not
mine and even though I never doubt God’s amazing power to make things happen in
his time, his way and through his spirit, I still sit and shake my head in
wonder and in awe, that He can use what I thought was so bad, to do something
so inspiring for me.
I came, every step of the way, wondering why I was coming,
but I took each step in faith and kept walking towards the goal of coming to this
conference, not even really understanding why.
I just kept walking. And here I find the answers – confirmation that my
work is not done. It may not be what I planned but it will certainly be what
God plans and I have to rest assured in that.
Assured by the words of great people who inspire me and defended me and
encouraged me to keep going where God is working and to keep telling the
stories.
Who knows? Maybe I
really will meet Stan one day… and that my friends is a story for another time.
Thanks be to God!
