experiences and musings

I can't decide if I love that warm-climate cultural aspect where one must argue for a solid five minutes with one's friend about who is going to out-hospitality-ize the other. But either way, I experience it pretty much every week now, which has been glorious. Kristi and I had to take turns bickering with our dear Turkish friend who flat out insisted that we were destitute, struggling, poor college students who could not afford to have her over to our homes and provide the culturally-mandated refreshments and tea that must be present when entertaining. Therefore it only was right that she treat US to all the goodies at HER house.
Our come back was that we were her cultural informants and Americans who can darn well afford a few cookies and a spot of tea once every couple of weeks when she concedes to coming onto our turf.
However, it IS a little tricky to get to Kristi's place. I agreed to meet our friends on campus - where they knew how to get - and guide them to the house. It is a few blocks away down a rather curvaceous route in which Kentuckian drivers are often encountered and I didn't want to risk throwing my friends into flashbacks of their host country's insane driving laws (or lack thereof) distracting them from the route and getting them thoroughly lost.

So they called and I ran across campus, saw them waving out their window in the parking lot, let myself into the back seat and collapsed into a heap panting heavily. They chirped their hello's and then lapsed into their native tongue. Eventually they admitted that they were commenting on their discovery as to why I am so thin: they clucked in admonition when they pointed out that I apparently run everywhere.

(room mate, friend, and me playing dress up with my scarf)

I tried to balance small talk with guiding them through traffic and we finally parked. Sema got out of the passenger side of the car and spread her arms out in preparation for a big bear hug.
"Nice girl, I want to say hello to you. I have missed you, nice girl. Come give me a hug!"
I laughed and gave her a big hug and Fatmah came up behind me clucking her indignation that I hadn't given her the traditional peck on both cheeks accompanied by a hug first.
Sema has only been Stateside for about six months and so is far more timid in speaking English, but when she does makes it very very clear that she feels at home with me and Kristi and Colleen, and likes us a lot! Its encouraging and humbling and flattering and convicting, all rolled into one. These dear ladies aren't going to stay here, but will return to Turkey when their husbands complete the schooling they initially came here for. While I value them as friends in their own right, I am constantly reminded that I am one of the few witnesses to Christ they have ever met, and they will take these memories of me and my testimony back with them. However, so far it seems to be a generally good experience, which is good. :-)

(room mate sharing pictures of family on Facebook via an Iphone
I love how internationals usually own
better technology than I do.)

Today's sermon in Church was all about the difference between a 'Carnal Christian' and a person who is claiming to be a Christian but isn't. The point of the sermon wasn't to instruct Church Members on how to run around judging fellow members in the Church, but how to determine if I myself truly am a believer who is walking my talk. I have full assurance of my salvation, so the Sermon was generally encouraging, although I jotted down in my notes some areas of improvement. A funny quote from the sermon had to do with the Stainless Steel cookware someone had given my pastor and his family. He was jokingly complaining about how he now owns bizarre and strange cleaning products that had never graced his cupboards before, and how he was learning how to cook on lower heat temperatures. The reason being that the steel grabbed onto whatever substance he was trying to heat, sucked it into the grooves of the metal, and apparently then screamed "MINE!"
"You are supposed to grab onto Spiritual Truth like a stainless steel pan grabs onto a burnt egg! But what happens is that some Christians are like Teflon pans, and let the egg just slide right off. Yes, non-stick is BAD in this analogy!"
After laughing with the rest of the congregation, I thought about the different ways I've been trying to allow Spiritual Truth sink into the details of my life. Meeting with these Turkish Muslims regularly has really been a good sounding board. They ask hard questions that cause me to ask myself, my professors and my Lord questions that I had never thought to do before. I am constantly reminded of my inadequacies as a Christian and forced to turn to the Holy Spirit for help and guidance.
One of the application questions at the end of the sermon was 'What victories have you won lately? No victory is perfect, but what Spiritual Victories have you just WON, albeit imperfectly, in your life?'
I won't take the time to list all of them as this is getting long enough, but it was encouraging to have to mentally go through the list of areas the Holy Spirit is working in my life.
A big part of the sermon, though, was TIME.
A dear friend of mine who has been really struggling with being a Christian for the last year called the other night and we had a really good conversation. I hung up a little frustrated, though, at how much TIME it is taking him to grow into the strong man of God I know he could be.
The sermon reminded me that while sometimes God does work in quick, visible, miraculous ways, sometimes we are called to throw seed out into a field. Whether that field has good soil and just needs a good rain shower to make those seeds start to germinate... or instead get eaten up by birds when the cracked dry land does nothing with them, is in God's control. I'm called to continue casting seed whenever the opportunity arises.

I am so blessed to be given the opportunity to learn how to sow seed with my brothers and sisters in the Lord... despite all our various obnoxious imperfections and irritating quirks. ;-)

(3 missions majors and 2 counseling majors)

Again, I'm sort of thinking and musing and rambling out loud and trying to get my thoughts in order. However, my mom claims that her blog is there strictly for self-therapeutic reasons. I'm gonna lay hold of that excuse, and at the same time hope you've been encouraged and convicted and entertained by mine. :-)

~Princess Ouch~

Clash of the paradigms

It's weird, because as a Misisons Major at a Bible College, I'm reading almost more than I can stomach regarding different missiological approaches towards the propagation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. However, when confronted with one of the people I read about in these books and actually hearing how their lack of faith manifests itself, I never ceased to be amazed and at the same time somewhat appalled.
What brought about this opening statement is the confuddlement I have been grappling with since befriending two lovely Turkish ladies who are also Muslim. One seems a little more open to the Gospel than the other, but both have asked me and my friend to explain the Bible to them so that they can understand it correctly. (yeah. No weighty responsibility contained in that commission at ALL!) And both times we've met and conversed I've been hit with the overwhelming realization at how complex and bizarre the Christian worldview is when perceived by non-believers. Its so simple once you get it, but when you haven't gotten it yet, its just weird.
A prime example is when we were answering some questions regarding Isa, the Islamic name for Jesus. They believe in Jesus, they love Jesus. They respect Him and actually Mohammed wrote some very touching things about Him in the Qur'an. They even believe that He was born of the virgin Mary, and that it was God who put Him in her womb.
However, He is NOT God nor the Son of God, because how can God have a son, and clearly God is ONE not two.
There's differences of opinions regarding sin and depravity amongst Muslims, but the one lady has informed me emphatically and repeatedly that Adam's sin in no way effects her. Her sins are her OWN, not Adams, thank you very much.
And the Law is simple to fulfill. If we don't fulfill the Law, that is our own business. Sin stems from abuse of sexual instincts or rejection of God.
I always start to get a headache by the end of my conversations with them because its such a paradigm shift.
There was one point in the conversation where we were trying to explain the Atonement in response to some very pertinent questions she had.
"Wait. You think that JESUS died for OUR sins?!?!" she exclaimed once we overcame the language barrier.
"Well... yes..." my friend and I answered, not entirely sure where the amazement stemmed from.
"No. Wait. God gave US the law to fulfill. Its there, its clear. And if we CHOOSE not to obey it, then He pays for it Himself? That doesn't make any SENSE!"

Or today, for class I had to visit a 'center of cultural or alternative worship.' Blech. I was raised in a Christian environment my whole life, and I've had this type of assignment before where I have to go to some other established meeting place of non-truth-religion. I always leave with a headache.
My mom explained it to me once this way: How do Federal Agents know when they come across a counterfeit bill that it is fake? Do they study the various methods and means by which false currency is made? No. Not at all. Do you know what they do? They study the real thing to such detail that they immediately recognize when a single splotch of ink is out of place. (okay maybe slight exaggeration there, but you get the idea)
I guess the same thing is coming through in this case: having been raised a Christian and fallen in love with Jesus Christ and wanting the propagation of His Kingdom to be my life's work, its appalling and offensive when I see His name slandered.
The Iranian gentleman who led the meeting today was a man overflowing with friendliness and hospitality. A sweetheart if ever I met one, although still possessing a very faint aura of creepiness that always accompanies a leader of any cult.
I have to give a group presentation on the Baha'i faith for class, and I asked the gentleman if we could possibly interview him later on this semester and even video tape the interview as well as photograph the center.
"Listen, listen. Let me explain myself to you. I want you to see me as your friend. Obviously there must be time and trust that will be established through friendship, but consider this community center yours and all you need available to you."
(Don't worry, I'm not going to enter there without my burly classmate accompanying me again.)
I was touched by his seeming sincerity but wondered how far I could push his commitment of compliance. With all the wacky events that have happened in my life the last few years, I've learned to take such offers with a tad bit of cynicism, even when they come from Christians; and especially when they come from non-believers.
However, his charisma was endearing. But I couldn't help but have a strong feeling of offense rise when he began explaining that Jesus Christ was just another manifestation/man possessed by god, just like Bahu-u-llah.
"NO! That is NOT true!" my inner-self screamed. "JESUS is the ONLY Way, Truth, and Life, and there is no other way by which you can be saved, friend!"

I've always had the opinion that religious radicals need to take a deep breath, smell some flowers, and stop taking life so seriously. But I had never had my beliefs so repeatedly and blatantly thrown in my face. And the funny thing is, this isn't in an antagonistic sort of way at all; its in a gentle, friendly way by people who seem genuinely concerned for my welfare.

So I'm not mad at them by any means, just struck with the profound tragedy of the reality of hell.
While headaches and fatigue always accompany such engagements with pagans, I haven't regretted an encounter so far. In fact I wonder why more Christians don't brave the headaches and circles under their eyes. I wonder why we are not more passionately pouring over Scripture to make sure our response is true and holy and correct in the eyes of God; not just in theology but in methodology.
C'mon, Christians. There are lots of people out there who need Jesus. Go find some of them! Its actually easier than you might think; the main point is for them to see the sincerity and authenticity of our faith. And if our faith is real, then that shouldn't be hard at all, right? ;-)

Old pictures, thoughts and memories

Found some 'old' picture CD's while going through some old boxes and found these. While it doesn't look like I'll be taking any trips in the near future, my traveling foot is itching. So I thought I would post some of them, and also give you an update as to what God has been doing recently.

I think its been partially due to the fact that there's been some helpful attempts to cure me and a good friend of mine of that horrid condition, sans husband. And my reaction is to either take them to school as to why that is not helpful, or to simply run away. I know, neither of which are helpful or functional... but its still my immediate reaction.

While she and I both appreciate the good intentions behind the gestures, neither of us see the need for concern from anyone, as the Lord has been doing a huge work in both of us as far as finding our contentment and fulfillment in Christ alone. May sound over spiritual, but that is what it is. And God has blessed us with some great friends.

If we weren't single, I don't think we could enjoy all the platonic friendships God has been showering us with.

Or be available for all the different ministry opportunities that keep coming our way. Its been weird having to turn down stuff the last few weeks. Saturdays are crazy, and there's always opportunities to fill them with more stuff.

While I'm thankful that there is too much instead of not enough, its been a new challenge trying to discern what to keep and what to cut out, how to manage time... balancing relationships of all kinds with what needs to get done.

And learning the difference between what I NEED and what I WANT. And how to clearly represent the difference both to myself and others when talking about it. Or learning how to just not talk about it at all, except in prayer.

And seeing the Lord provide tiny gestures of compassion and grace in small things, and thanking Him for them.
And trying to be still and at peace so that I can overflow with blessings upon others. I've really been convicted recently of trying to discern if what I'm saying is edifying or just jabbering. I don't have it down to a fine art by any means. Its funny how when I have the best of intentions, things are still so poorly communicated. I'm not sure if thats a lack on my part or others' issues, and I've been praying about it.
(And I'm feeling rather melodramatic right now because I've got these cool pictures that I took a couple years ago that I really feel should be on some halmark card somewhere, and I'm listening to the 'Blood Diamond' soundtrack ;-) And its late and I've had a crazy busy fun day with waaaay too much sugar in it and a ton of different accents. :-D)

There's something really nice about typing with the lights off with it raining gently outside in the dark with good instrumental music with a minor key's lilt to it. :-)

We read through the book of Romans this evening, and then shared some interesting stories. A Pastor was beaten up in Rajasthan, India a few days ago, and his church is really scared right now. A Christian girl was kidnapped in a Muslim country... a thousand Pakistani's came to Christ last week... a church leader or two was assassinated in Pakistan. So we prayed for them, we prayed for us...
We prayed for where God is going to take us in the future and that no matter what we would be faithful and a light for Christ. On the one hand it was rather intimidating, asking for these things, knowing that when one submits to the Lord, anything will happen. But at the same time it was exhilarating, knowing that when one is submitted to the Lord, anything will happen! And it will be His will!!
And I wondered once again, thinking about where my family has been and is and where I have been and am... why does God give an extra measure of Grace and provision and comfort to some, despite being in the midst of the Fire... while others feel left alone by Him? And one of my dear friends said to me, "you cannot ask God 'why this and not that,' you can only thank Him for what is and seek to be faithful to those who don't have."
I was talking with another friend last night and we were talking about church leadership and dysfunction amongst laity and how to be a Christian serving in a secular workplace without being obnoxious for the Faith and at the same time not being invisible for the Gospel. Its a fine line and we didn't figure it out, although I did determine by the end of it that people are gonna be mad either way, so mights as well have them mad at you for holding onto the Truth rather than compromising, feeling guilty and STILL having people mad at you.

And I have concluded I have no idea what God is going to do with my future. My friend laughed and said in mock exasperation as I talked animatedly about yet ANOTHER mission field in ANOTHER country, 'I hear a different country from you every time we speak! You just can't make up your mind, can you?' Well.. they all need the Gospel and sound COOL as far as culture and language and clothing go, so...

All that to say I don't know exactly what God is doing or where He is taking me or what is going to happen in the future. But I do know that He is giving me opportunities for Sanctification. And I also know I miss Magda's coffee. And I miss Geza and I arguing about beverage health benefits or lack thereof. And I miss wandering the village, meeting familiar faces and being greeted by a handshake. But I know I'm where God wants me, and I know that He has a purpose and is blessing me on a daily basis with new friends and old friendships deepening and new opportunities opening up. And I'm excited to see what God has.

you know you are a missions major when...

I sent the following list to my supporters when I was volunteering at an orphanage in Romania in 2006. I thought I'd post it here as a comparison to a more recent list:

You know you're in Romania when...

1. Cold Cereal is a sweet thing of the past.

2. When you ask to put milk in your tea, you get funny looks

3. If you wear a scarf on your head and it's generally known you're not married or a Pentecostal, you get funny looks.

4. It's not unusual to see a Semi-truck parked next to a horse hitched to a wagon full of firewood.

5. No one thinks it's odd to see a guy in 19th century clothing herding his cows or sheep home and chatting on a cell-phone.

6. Most of your friends 30 and over have gold teeth, black teeth, or several teeth missing.

7. It's safer to drive on the wrong side of the road and risk getting hit by an oncoming car than it is to drive on the right side of the road and risk hitting the potholes the size of the grand canyon as you swerve to miss hitting the pedestrians who are casually walking down the middle of your lane, or the gypsy wagon with hand-made brooms sticking out in all directions. (Disclaimer: just for the record I haven't done this as I'm not brave enough to try driving here. But my friend's have)

8. When a person walks out into the middle of a beyond-busy street in the middle of the city with driver's who invent traffic laws as they go, you're immediate reaction is not "SUICIDER!!" but, "Oh good. Traffic will stop for them and I can cross at the same time and get to where I'm going on time instead of being late!!!" (pedestrians have right-of-way and often take advantage of this. Yes, Csaba, I'm talking about you.)

9. "We have to leave right away" really means, "We have to start getting ready and be out the door sometime in the next ten minutes." (in the villiages)

10. Unless it's exams week, getting up at 7 am is the crack of dawn. "Getting to bed late" means getting to bed around 1am.

11. If a friend offers you a ride in their car to church, (thus cutting the travel time from a freezing 40 minute walk to a 10 minute drive) you begin thinking of ways to get the pope to saint them, even though they aren't Catholic.

12. You watch your feet when you walk, because there aren't laws about keeping animals contained, and they (the animals) often leave "gifts' on the ground. If the ground is 'gift' free, the pavement (or lack thereof) is so riddled with cracks and potholes that it sometimes takes talent to keep an even gait.

13. When someone shakes your hand you automatically begin to kiss them on both cheeks.

14. You're guilt-tripped into taking 3rd helpings at mealtime.

15. You have to say "no thank you" at least 4 times before they believe you really won't accept what they are offering.

16. Doing laundry is a 2 to 3 day event. (2 1/2 days are spent geting the clothes dry as there aren't clothes dryers here.

17. You don't find it odd to see a woman wearing a red and white striped t-shirt with a black checkered skirt, brown stockings, berkenstock sandals, and a hand-knitted sweater over it all.

18. You have to budget "eating out" at that really fancy resturaunt, McDonalds.

My two roommates are from Nagaland, India, and I am gathering more and more friends from India. So I decided to make a list of 'you know you have Indian roommates when..." list.

You know you have Indian roommates when:

1. you buy black tea in bulk

2. most meals include large quantities of garlic and onions, and those are the bland dishes.

3. your spice cabinet consists 70% of chili-related spices that threaten to catch Americans on fire simply by looking at them

4. helping verbs or articles are rarely used in sentences. In fact, quite a few sentences consist just of subject and verb.

5. To emphasize something, it is simply repeated twice (it's HOT hot, not just hot.)

6. Most material possessions are not bought but acquired from the Indian or international network. Actually this can be said of most Seminary students as well, just subtract the 'international' descriptor.

7. Chocolate is considered bizarre

8. Bollywood movies and songs are consistent occurrences.

9. Arranged marriages are not considered abnormal, although preferable is a debated descriptor.

10. Grocery shopping occurs once a month, and is done through catching a ride with a friend or walking the 6 blocks to the store

11. You know what Chai is. You also know that Starbucks doesn't sell it.

12. You know three different ways to make chai.

13. you buy the ingredients to make chai in bulk

14. You think people who don't drink chai regularly are abnormal

15. You know five different locations of international grocery stores, and might know their owners on a first-name basis

16. Most of the foods in your pantry and refrigerator that have labels not in English

17. 'Eating out' is Burger King.

18. Nodding one's head no longer occurs in an up-and-down movement. It is done through making the chin lead one's head in a side-to-side, bobble-type motion. Sort of like the Albert Mohler figurines you buy at Lifeway bookstores.

19. you know saffron is not just a color, you know where to buy it, you have an inkling how to cook with it, and you are considering paying the $5 an ounce for it because its that good.

20. Curry doesn't scare you.

21. your 'Auntie" or 'Older sister' is not biologically related to you.

High Context Cultures

I have two very dear friends, who we'll call "Pamela" and "Sally." Both are from high-context, hot, shame-based cultures that are similar but still unique in their own ways. Sally is quite a bit older than Pamela, and see's herself as the local friendly matrona looking out for our well-being and offering gems of wisdom when she deems them necessary. Both Pamela and I love her to pieces, but have upon occasion pulled the other aside and asked the other to serve as a 'sounding board' as to how seriously we should take our dear elder.
As an American, I am from a low-context hot culture.
For those of you not studying anthropology, allow me to explain briefly before I continue my story:
High Context Culture: Usually a culture that is very very old, for example Asian or Arab cultures. They have been around for so long that things are defined to ridiculous details. (If one does not bow appropriately or offer the correct title when addressing people of various rank, insult ensues). These cultures are still very friendly but more challenging for people from Low Context Cultures to understand. The reason being:
Low Context Culture: Usually a rather newer culture, such as American or Australian. There are still cultural distinctives that dictate when insult or compliments will be interpreted by certain interactions, but much more loosely defined. In other words, far more laid back. More polite to address elders by "Mrs" or "Mr" but not that big of a deal if it's "Mrs" "Ma'am" "Hey Wazzup!"
Hot Climate Culture: Focuses on the good of the group, or extended family. Emphasizes hospitality; friendly and outgoing. Most of my experience with hot climate cultures is that they talk a LOT. Think "My Big Fat Greek Wedding."
Cold Climate Culture: More individually focused, or if group-oriented the group is the family, usually immediate family. Often hospitality is an art or matter of honor, but not very personal. Keeps people at arms length until you get to know them very very very well (like, ten or twenty years well). Most of my experience with cold-climate cultures is that they are, as a group, more quiet and introverted people.
Shame Based Culture: "You have done this and therefore shamed our family's honor." An individuals actions do not effect simply the individual, but the group. Bad feelings come when the ramifications towards the group are considered. The goal is the good of the group, saving the group's honor.
Guilt Based Culture: Individual focused. "I ought not to do this because it will effect me in these ways." The goal is the individual's honor, the good of the individual.

O.k. so there is your anthropology lesson for the day. Now for some background to my story:
A lot of my learning at school has been focused around this saying:
"Learn the culture
to use the culture
to reach the culture."
Good lesson, but it has it's limits. Don't get me wrong, the top complaints I've heard against American missionaries is that they
~Don't make an effort to learn the culture and become culturally appropriate to contextualize in a functional, effective way
~Are selfish
~Are too extravagant in their lifestyles (Which stems from not acculturating and being selfish in my opinion)
I place very very high importance on being culturally relevant and appropriate. I love learning about different cultures, and as I've mentioned before have sensed something pushing/tugging/nudging me towards the more challenging cultures. HOWEVER:
Two things I've also realized through going through a period where I wanted to be so culturally appropriate that I dissolved into the culture and was no longer American was:

~All cultures are corrupted by Adam and Eve's fall in the Garden. There is no best or better culture. All cultures have nuances and traits that are detrimental and even at times evil. As Christians we cannot be blind to that fact. I don't mean be the missionary accused of ruining cultures for the sake of the Gospel. I mean be that missionary who helps sanctify a culture for Christ to be a better witness to the other cultures.

~God made each of us individuals in our home culture for a reason. To forsake that or give that up is, according to my conviction, ungodly. God wants to use our character traits in other cultures to show them things they would not have realized otherwise. People outside the situation can often see things that people in the situation are completely blind to. Thank God for that.

Okay so anyway today all these lessons kind of came to a head when I was given an opportunity to act on them:

Pamela bumped into me in the hallway, grabbed my hand and pulled me into a secluded alcove and asked me emphatically to pray for her. Of course I said I would, but asked what on earth was wrong.
Sally and Pamela had, once again, had a run-in. Something that, in my opinion, wasn't a big deal, but to Pamela was a very big deal as it slighted her integrity and honor in the eyes of another of her superiors. She was afraid her character would be questioned by another individual, and Sally had painted the situation to the superior in a way that put the whole weight of the matter on Pamela. There was no apparent reason for it. However, a little bit ago Sally had confessed to me that she was very frustrated and a little angry at Pamela for not respecting an admonition Sally had given her. It was an admonition I agreed with, but in Sally's mind it was a sin issue and in my mind it was a situational issue that would go away with time. I wasn't happy about the present situation but was fairly confident it was occurring for valid reasons.
It seemed as though the frustration and miscommunication was causing a snowball effect, making it miserable for Pamela to interact with Sally and apparently frustrating for Sally to interact with Pamela. I didn't tell all this to Pamela, because Sally had told me in confidence, but I knew that things were going south.
These two women were dear sisters of mine and each other, and all three of us loved each other.
"Pamela, things are getting rapidly worse between the two of you. I think you need to go sit down and talk with Sally about this."
"No! I cannot confront an elder! Because of culture, you know. Besides, I am a little bit afraid of Sally. She is so strong! But you know, there are others who are cutting contact with her because of this."
"Exactly, and you don't want that to happen between you two. You love Sally and you know that she loves you, and you don't want to loose her friendship over this."
"yes, that is true."
"Come on, let's pray now." I said. Pamela felt a little better after I put my arms around her and prayed, but I felt emboldened to speak some more, although as I did it I was sure roots of mountains were crumbling and the threat of being struck by lightning might be increasing.
"Look, I know that I am an outsider of your culture, and I don't understand everything. I don't want to encourage you to be culturally inappropriate or American or anything. BUT you know that all cultures are effected by sin, and all cultures have aspects that are not godly, even my own. The Bible says that when you have a problem with your brother or sister, you must go to him or her and resolve it. There is not peace between you and Sally. I will pray for an opportunity for you to talk about this in a culturally appropriate way. But I want to encourage you to look for that opportunity."
"But she is so strong, Rachel. So stubborn."
"Yes I know, and when you speak with her you must not be intimidated by this but use it. You say 'Sally, I am sad because I feel there is no peace between us. I don't want to be pushed away because of this. I want there to be happiness and peace, not frustration and anger. What can I do to help that happen?' Affirm her, tell her you love her. Show her that you want her input and wisdom in your life, because you do. We both know how much she has helped each of us and how she is wise in so many ways. And this way you are not confronting her or telling her what to do or instructing her or in anyway questioning her eldership in your life. You are asking her to help you bring peace between the two of you. See what happens. But you cannot let this continue out of control, because it is burdening you."
Pamela nodded and thanked me and scurried off as we both had things we needed to do.

Now I don't know that what I said was perfect, and I don't know that Pamela should follow my advice to a T. I think she should - and will - pray about what I've said and obey God's leading, not my own.
However, I am encouraged by this situation because for a long time I felt that to work in a high-context, shame based culture would be impossible and incredibly painful for me. I thought that my frank-to-a-fault self and brutal honesty would paint me in such a bad light that I couldn't and wouldn't be effective at all to those cultures should I ever go there. I was of the opinion that Asian cultures specifically would judge and not accept me.
Of course I am very well aware that all these things are still likely and applicable anywhere (shoot, that happens here in the States for crying out loud!). And I do recognize the need for me to curb my frankness and soften my directness more often than not.
But I also was encouraged that, when used biblically and powered by prayer, these traits are encouraging and helpful in these cultures I feared. They can in fact be used by God as tools to bring about edifying change that is much-needed, if used with humility.

So all that to say, still being stretched.

Sanctification. How deplorable!!!!

Yet at the same time, how necessary and encouraging.

~Princess Ouch~

Urban Missions

Okay today I've done something I have never ever ever in my entire life done before ever:
I gave my toes a french manicure.
well, an amateur version anyway.
Yeah, I painted my toe-nails, and then painted the white line across the top. Whoop-dee-doo.
You have to understand, doing girly things like painting my nails and spending hours on my make-up or hair has never been a concern for me. I just started using hair-spray correctly and on a regular basis last semester.
So I'm not sure what exactly overcame me that I was suddenly seized with the wild impulse to make my feet pleasing to the eye. I've been wearing flip-flops around campus, which might be part of it, but I have never cared what my feet looked like. Hey I guess this 'wild' impulse is far better than, I don't know, having something pierced or tattooed... something drastic that just won't look right when I'm 80.
I don't know, whadaya think... would a nose piercing look styling on an 80 year old in 57 years?

In other news, have been doing some reflecting on my recent trip to the Chicago area. We were able to bum around the area near Gino's East (Pizza place) for about an hour and my friend/team mate Nichole and I ended up strolling along the shores of Lake Michigan for a while before heading into the restaurant where any surface area outside the bathrooms can be graffiti/written on.
I usually don't like cities in the United States with a passion. I don't mind them overseas at all, just not in the States. I really wasn't sure why until a friend pointed out that overseas there are people walking around quite a bit in cities, but in the States almost everyone drives, so you don't see people outside as much. Which after thinking about it and walking around Chicago seems to be right on.
It was a little strange doing a ministry project on a team again. I haven't done that since YLP in 2004. And it was kind of funny last week as we walked across busy intersections or through the mall when someone would walk up next to me and I thought it was one of my team mates. I mean, who else would be walking up next to me? So I'd turn to them to say something and realize I had never seen that person before and they were simply someone who happened to be going the same direction as I was.
But it struck me towards the evening as I watched the faces of some team mates who had never been in a huge city before, and were feeling perhaps a little overwhelmed, how confident I felt. Even though the buildings dozens of stories high that were towering over my head did every now and again make me feel slightly claustrophobic, for the most part I enjoyed our time in the city. It struck me because I have for the last few years assumed that I was called to a rural setting with minority groups, and have vehemently opposed any thought of working in a city. I wanted someplace lush, green, and rural. Thank you. But walking in Chicago made me wonder if I might want to do some work at some point inner city. Granted, it would hardly be as nice and clean as the tourist trap area of the Windy City. But it would be something to look into. Which really surprised me. But then hey, I painted my toe-nails this afternoon, so why am I shocked at being once again surprised by myself?
Anyway all that to say, between China still stalking me (Sunday School leader last Sunday had spent a few years in China, was teaching a lesson on Missions, and of course guess what part of the world came up. Learned about yet ANOTHER unreached people group in that oriental region) and my new found piqued interest in cities, I have no idea where I'm going to end up Missiologically.
It was also weird because I worked a lot with Eastern Europeans last week. It was totally right up my ally. I knew what to say, how to say it, didn't feel uncomfortable, felt right at home. And for some reason, the old sense of "yay! I'm with who I'm supposed to work with long-term and finding out things that will benefit me later!" wasn't there. My sister pointed out that I have sort of 'cracked the code' with Eastern Europeans so the old challenge isn't there anymore, which is maybe why my interest is more piqued when the Orient is mentioned rather than when something in Europe is mentioned (which, incidentally, when I was called to work with Gypsies in Eastern Europe, Romania kept popping up every time I turned around - totally out of my control, and now that I'm wondering about the 10-40 window, India and China keep popping up. I'd like to read into it, but trying to keep my thoughts still and my prayers active).
Yeah I'm definitely 'wired' for Europe - it's my ancestry and a lot of how I was raised helps me feel much more able to melt right into European culture (and all my Eastern European readers are thinking, "HA! If only you KNEW Rachel how culturally DUMB you still are!" Okay granted. I am still American, and I will be the first to admit that we're kind of dumb when it comes to international interactions. Do I get points for my disclaimer now? ;-D)
So I'm wondering, sometimes God does call us someplace where we just 'melt in.' And He did call me to a place that was very conducive to me learning and growing in ways that will always effect me in my faith and calling. But I am learning there are seasons, and while I still feel that I'll go back to visit Romania and my friends there and rejoice in the growth of their ministries, I don't know that I'll join them like I did before or like I thought I would long-term. I could be totally wrong though. I'm not sure what this new season is of my 'missions career' but I do have a sense that the season is changing, and I'm trying to hold it loosely and focus singly on the Lord and where He is leading. Not easy when there are a bazillion voices all screaming, "Go this way! Go that way!"
So... all that to say, still being stretched and serving Him blindly. Its adventuresome to be sure, but not always as informed as I'd like it to be. See the horrible thing about adventures is that they are wonderful to read about because you know - by what genre section you checked the book out of- how the end will be. But when you are actually LIVING it, you have no idea. And as a Christian, that is okay because we know God is sovereign. As a human though, and a rather type-A one at that, it compels me to... well, do crazy things like paint my toes. Yeah, I know. It's pretty lame. But you must also realize that I have a very healthy guilt-complex instilled in me as an oldest child of two homeschooling therapists. I know enough to be dangerous about anything else wacky that I would want to do. ;-) Tragic, I know. See I wish I wasn't terrified of heights because then I could go skydiving and would have something somewhat impressive to brag about in my "wild and crazy whim that I followed through on" department. ;-)
Alrighty, well, speaking of Eastern Europeans, my dear Romanian brother and his wife invited me over for dinner, and it is one minute past when I am supposed to meet them. Fortunately they are relationship rather than time-oriented people, yet nonetheless, I must go.

~Princess Ouch~

Adventure

Went on another 'field trip' today. This time to two homeless shelters in the city. The first one was fine. The director was passionate, Baptist, graduate of the seminary, started several programs for people around the country to come live for 3 months to a year and volunteer. They have a 'post office' of sorts, where about 2,500 homeless people have their mail delivered and can pick it up whenever they need. They have programs for families, drug addicts, alcoholics, job training, discipleship. Inspirational but not my cup of tea.
The second place we visited was, in all honesty, what my idea of purgatory would be like. Just the construction of the building, the hospital-ness of it, bare walls and old tile floors. The atmosphere in general - the smell of cigarettes on the people who walked by.
The staff did their best to make the renovated nursing home as home-like as possible for the 650 or more people who slept there every night and thousands more who passed through every day for a hot meal and sack lunch. When we drove up, we had to stand outside for about five minutes while we figured out the parking meters with our guides. Several men stared at us through the ceiling-to-floor length windows in the dining hall. I was glad we had arrived in a pack.
I hate being stared at. I sort of get used to it whenever I'm overseas. But when one is overseas, one simply gets used to things that are not required to be used to when one is at home. I especially don't like being stared at by huge men who have more tattoos than I have freckles and look like they brush their teeth with the cigarettes they smoke. It didn't help any that I had planned on grabbing lunch in the coffee shop before class but when I got there discovered I hadn't given myself enough time, had two minutes to run across campus and anyway the line for food was out the door and into the hallway. I always face heathens and Spiritual Warfare better on a full stomach.
We walked into the building and the stares continued. Our 'tour guide' explained that they had a beauty salon for their visitors to have haircuts, which was especially nice for the women. They a had a 'library,' where books were donated and anyone could take them or return them as they saw fit. I saw "A man called Peter" on one of the shelves and smiled. I haven't read it, but I want to, and I saw the movie version of it as a kid. I liked it.
We moved on through the kitchen into the dining hall. It was empty at this point. Several men from the kitchen called out friendly greetings and we responded cheerfully. I listened but was also wondering why on earth I felt happier and safer in a Gypsy village where the people lived exactly like those in this homeless shelter if not worse. I suppose it might have had something to do with the fact that the Gypsy village is surrounded by green nature, rolling hills, sheep and roaming horses and this homeless shelter was surrounded by horrible broken concrete, dilapidated buildings and wandering people with no light in their eyes.
Upstairs we were shown the mens dormitory. The walls were painted a sort of pastel hospital green. Do you ever get the feeling that you are surrounded by germs? I felt like that, and tried to not touch anything. I felt very very snobby, and hoped it didn't show on my face.
The third floor was for physically or mentally handicapped persons who had proven that they would be responsible if given a place to stay but needed help getting affordable safe housing. We then went and sat down in a conference room that was hot and humid. Outside I could see the freeway and once again wished to be out of the inner city.
After class was done we filed out. I breathed deep breaths of glorious outside air once we left the building.
When I was in Europe this last summer, I would get so frustrated when I would hear my friends commend me for my desire to do Gypsy ministry but always end it with, "But I could never do it." It frustrated me that they were fine with me doing ministry in an area they recognized needed it, yet didn't see any need to join in it. However, I found myself feeling something similar to that homeless ministry: I was so thankful there were people passionate about that ministry who were doing work that needed to be done. If the Lord called me to do it, I would, and gladly, but don't feel that He has called me there at this point in my life. It demonstrated once again how the Lord grants each of us different gifts and callings. Its not wrong for us to not desire someone else's calling, as long as we are mindful of our own and are fulfilling it.
As horrible a picture as I may be painting, I was very glad for the field trip and for seeing a different sort of ministry than perhaps I have been used to. How easy it is in our safe 'God bubble" of Bible College to forget that there is a dying world just off our campus that needs saved. Not that we forget, exactly, that it's there, but the urgency is perhaps glossed over in our thoughts as we prepare for exams and write our papers.
Anyway I've been praying for the Lord to give me an opportunity to start teaching again, preferably in a ministry setting. I have no idea where or what that will look like at this point, its still just in the prayer stage. I'd prefer in a more volunteer setting with kids who want to be there, as opposed to a tutoring position like I had before where it was a constant battle to get the kids from good christian homes and safe environments to realize the gift God was giving them through an opportunity to be educated.
My dad pointed out last night that we think pain and difficulty are things to be avoided, but they can be very good things. No, he's not a masochist, although some might accuse him of it. But we were discussing how God teaches and refines through tough experiences. I like the result just not the process, but am finding joy in the process too. For example, fasting is rough, but that first meal when breaking the fast... *sigh of euphoria* you realize just how wonderful healthy food is. And you don't want junk food, just good healthy food. Its a wonderful feeling.

Well, I confess, a big part of my writing this is procrastination on writing my response paper to last week's field trip, which is due by midnight tonight. So I shall cease my ramblings and musings for this entry and get back to school work. Good grief. Was I griping earlier about kids who grew up in good Christian homes not appreciating the opportunity to be educated? I stand self-condemned: my attitude towards homework has been pitiful, pathetic, somewhat apathetic, and in sore need of correction. I'm getting it done, but not doing it as unto the Lord. Now see that's another topic for ranting: realizing that change must occur, praying for change to continue, but trusting the Lord to do the change and not striving to do it myself. Its a fine balance because once again, realizing that change must take place is important, recognizing opportunities to act on that change are important, but I also must not obsess about undertaking that change in my own strength. Hang it all. I vote we skip this whole fallible human thing with all the humdrum of making mistakes, and just go straight to being perfected creatures already.
Ha! I effectively procrastinated another five minutes.
But, as Mary Poppins says, enough is as good as a feast. And that is enough of procrastination.
Cheers,

~Princess Ouch~

Homework cop-out

This last week was Fall Break, and I was very busy doing absolutely NOTHING. Well that's not true. I got half way through the first chapter of Martin Luther's "Bondage of the Will" and I am supposed to read to Chapter 4 by Tuesday. (I actually forgot about it until last night. Hehe. Woops) and some reading done that is due on Monday, so that's good. However, most of my week was spent getting to know new friends, playing Ultimate Frisbee (and winning), going Contra-dancing (and loving it), trying meatloaf for the first time (yes, the first time in my entire life to have meatloaf. It was actually fairly good), trying not to get this dratted cold that I now have and getting updated in oodles of 'girltalk.'
All that to say, I SHOULD have plenty to write about, however I am not entirely sure how much to broadcast all over the internet on this blog. Therefore, I shall simply put an article from my dearly beloved "Anthropological insights for missionaries" book, which is being used for another class of mine this year. (apparently this college thinks Paul Hiebert had something edifying to say to the Missiological world. Who'd a thunk. Just kidding. The funny thing is that he was my Dad's professor a long long time ago in a Galaxy far far away...) I readily admit this is a blogging cop-out. I'm not always thrilled when my friend's post articles on their blogs when I'm looking for a friendly update on their life. However, my brain is frazzled from four hours of work and this ding-dang cold, and I'll write a profound little blurb-summery at the end of the article. Enjoy or else. (warning to any home-school mothers who may be reading the blog: there is some brief mention of pagan rites and cannabalism. Nothing graphic, just enough to cause little ears to ask questions.)

Kalonda of Kangate
Paul B. Long

The African sun poured upon us as we climbed the mountain path to the village among the trees. The people of Kangate, in the wild Babindi section of the central Congo, had seldom seen a white man. Excited cries greeted me and my three Congolese friends as we entered the dusty country to answer a strange request from an old chieftain among these isolated people.
Several days previously a runner had appeared at our mission station. "Teller of the Word," the runner had said, "Chief Kalonda wants to talk with you."
"What does this old rascal want to see me about?" I wondered, and the question remained in my mind as we drove with difficulty through the mountainous country over dangerous roads. Now at last we would know.
In the shade of the chieftain's hut, surrounded by the smaller huts of several wives, a very aged, emaciated man sat, wraped in an old blanket. THis broken, sick, old chieftain, enthroned on a cross-legged stool bedecked with leopard skin, lifted a feeble hand and greeted us with the customary salutations of the land. "Muouo wenu - life to you."
"Wuoyo webe," we replied, "life to you."
I remembered the tales I had heard of this once-powerful chieftan. Twenty years ago Kalonda was feared and respected for a hundred miles or more around his realm. As a ruler, bold and savage, he freely excercised he power of life and death over his subjects, and death or slavery over his captives. His renown as a chieftain was surpassed only by his great power as a medicine man. Leaders came from distant villages to buy his charms and cures.
One day the chief of a neighboring realm, Kasenda of the Balubal people, arrived in the village of Kangate. The visiting chieftan was worried and needed help.
"I have killed the money messenger of the Mission and taken the money he was carrying to their preachers and teachers," he recounted. "now the dead man has come to life and returned to the white men to tell what I have done. Ive me medicine to make me invisible when the soldiers come!"
"Return to your country," replied Kalonda. "Get twelve she goats, six young, strong women, ten spears and ten knives, then come back to buy my medicine. This is my price for medicine powerful enough to make you invisible."
Complaining of the high cost of this protection, Chief Kasenda returned to Balubal to round up goats, women and weapons.
Chief Kalonda proceeded in the meantime to compound his promised medicine. Sending out his bodyguard, he directed the capture of a young woman from a neighboring tribe. She was brought before the cheif. With elaborate ritual the chief's warriors cut off the captive's head, which was needed for Kalonda's "invisible charm" Cannibal ritual was involved in the proceedings. ON the appointed day, the medicine was presented, the goats and women and wapons were exchanged, and the deal closed to the satisfaction of both leaders.
When the soldiers arrived several weeks later to capture the ruler of the Balubal, Kasenda quietly entered his hut, picked up the head that would make him invisible, and stepped out into his courtyard to laugh at the baggled troops who would not be able to see him. To his suprise, anger, and consequent regret, they surrounded him, bound him securely, and marched him off to the white man's jail. Still holding his high-priced medicine, Kasenda became enraged with his former friend, Kalonda, whose charm had failed. He cursed Kalonda and gave his name as the murdere of the woman whose head he held in his hands. Kalonda, too, was arrested.
Fifteen seasons ran their courses thereafter, and the peoples of the Babinda and Balubal had all but forgotten their former chieftans. Condemned at first to die in jail, both of them were saved when their executions were three times postponed; finally the sentances were changed to fifteen years in prison at hard labor. To the chieftans, this judment was as harsh as death.
Now, released after fifteen years of captivity, old Kalonda had at last come home to die. I looked across the council ring at this old man, remembering what I knew of those years of the past. After the customary silence of respect, I began the conversation:
"Nfumu, Chieftan, your runner says you want to talk with me. I have come. What do you want?"
Kalonda's reply startled me. "Tell me about the white man's God."
"The God I follow is not a white man's God. He is the Father of the New Tribe, HIs people. Jesus Christ is the great Chieftan of the New Tribe, and He accepts anyone who will follow Him. My friends here are also members of the New Tribe. They will tell you about it." And I turned to my Congolese colleagues who really understood the battle old Kalonda was facing. One of my companions was an old witch doctor turned Christian and now an effective pastor among his people. I accompanied with deep concern the battle taking place between the powers that are real and the liberation which is possible.
Copper charm bracelets adorned the once-strong spear arm of the old chief.
"You still trust in your medicine," observed Pastor Mutombo. "Why do you ask about another God?"
With great reluctance, the old man slipped the bracelets from his arm, dropped them in the dust, and said, "Now tell me, 'Teller of the Word,' about your powerful God."
With those copper bands lying at our feet, I began to realize something of the price he was having to pay for what he asked. He had just renounced his potency, and I heard him mutter, "I used to have eight good, strong wives, and all but three old ones ran away while I was in jail. All I have left are old women who are too weak to work."
My eyes followed his glance toward three old women crouched close to a nearby hut. Theywere agitatedly mubling to each other and evidently unhappy with the events taking place.
"Your medicine couldn't hold your women while you were gone?" the pastor questioned; and he answered with a grunt.
"Now," the pastor continued, "the war medicine on your belt shows where you look for power."
After a long, thoughtful pause, the old warrior cut the small skin bag from his belt and dropped it in the dust.
"Now the 'counter-hex' packet at your neck." The old man put a trembling hand to the thong around his neck. This little charm held his protection against all his enemies and made their magic of no power. Silently we waited until, at length, he broke the thong and let his 'security' fall at our feet. Grunts of respect for his courage echoed around the ring of watching tribesmen.
"Your Buanga bua Bunfumu," the pastor reminded, "your medicine of chieftainship."
Wearily Kalonda arose, entered his hut and returned with a large antelope horn filled with assurance of his power over his people. (I have never been sure just what makes up such powers, but I have been told that horns hold bits of hair, the eye of a frog, the tooth of a lion, and the claw of a bird.) Lightning medicine followed, and a host of other protective charms which give forest people some respite from their constant fear of living.
"This is all the protection I have" Kalonda said. But the pastor was evidently waiting for another, more costly surrendur. "Now get your 'life charm,' Kalonda, and I will tell you about the God of the New Tribe."
The old man tremble, broke out in perspiration shook his head and wrapped his tattered blanket across his bony chest. The three old wives had remonstrated with his renunciation of his medicines, and, with this last demand, they commenced the death wail, and started tossing dust in the air over their heads. At this acknowledgement of his impending death, Kalonda roused from his fearful relfections, re-entered his hut, and returned with a little packet of skins. With all the dignity of a great leader, he silenced the wailing wives and surveyed his council ring.
"Teller of the Word," he said, holding out his little packet in his bony hands, "you have asked for the life of Kalonda! THis medicine has protected my life from all my enemies for many years. Many still live who hate me and have curses on my life. When I throw down this medicine all their curses will fall on me, my spirits will withdraw their protection, and I will die. But Kalonda is not afraid to die."
As the packet dropped in the dust, the old chieftain straightened to his full height, lifted his old eyes to the distant hills, and waited for death. We sat in silence as the seconds grew into minutes and tension mounted in the ring of onlookers who waited for their cheif to die.
After a long while, the old chief looked at us, and his lips parted in a relieved grin. "I'm still alive! Kalonda has not been struck dead!"
It took a long time to answer questions from old Kalonda and his people. Questions about the GOd, he said, he had always feared but never known. As the afternoon shadows lengthened, the old chieftain arose with dignity before his people. In a quiet, confident voice he announced,
"Kalonda has a new cheiftain. I follow 'Yesu Kilisto' and He will help me across the river, lead me through the dark forest, and take me to His village where I can sit with His people. I belong to the New Tribe. Kalonda wants all his people to follow Nfumu Yesu, (Chieftain Jesus), and go with HIm to the Village of God.
Not many days after my visit to the Kangate, a messenger arrived with the brief report,
"Kalonda has gone on his journey to meet his new Chief."


I find it interesting that the pastor made the old cheif renounce all his old ways before even beginning to start telling him the good news. What a contrast to a society that is so "seeker friendly' and so afraid to 'offend' anyone or 'scare them away from the Gospel'
If we used the approach the pastor did with the old witch-doctor chieftain, maybe we'd see more authentic disciples and a change in our deteriorating society than we are currently. Just a thought.

~Princess Ouch~

The Imam's wife

Today I went to the Bosnian Mosque with a group from school. My one friend who works with Middle-Eastern Muslims says that the hoodie and jeans I was wearing would be fine, but Hollie -who went with us to this Mosque- said a long skirt and nice, long sleeved shirt would be better. SO I opted for the second choice and was GLAD I did!!! We also wore headscarves. Hollie had one from Iran that David her husband bought her when he was there, and I wore one of my Gypsy scarves. I felt very ethnic as we walked up to the church where we were meeting our guide in my flowing black skirt, nice shirt and headscarf. I really really wanted some bangly earings so that i would feel more Gypsy-ish, but wanted to see how jewlery was seen before I tried that.
Hollie and I were directed towards the front door where we slipped off our shoes and went to sit down. The Mosque was a small house that had been converted, and the front living room with a small fireplace was the women's section of the worship center.
Four women, a little three year old and a baby were already there, and in the next ten minutes four other women came in.
The three year old and I had fun making faces at each other, until the little girl realized her mother was at the bowing and kneeling part of the worship time. At that point the little girl ran up beside her mother and dove into the prayer rug they had spread for her and proceeded to try and murmer the prayers in Arabic.
The women were all dressed in colorful robes and headscarves that were not tied the ways Hollie and I had tied ours. She and I stayed back against the wall and didn't go up onto the prayer rugs they had spread for us during the prayer time. It was considerate, and I didn't even realize that they had done it until they were all up at the front of the room. But neither Hollie nor I felt the need to participate in prayers to Allah.
The did a message in what I believe was first Arabic, then translated into Bosnian, and then English. It was rather sureal.
It ended what seemed to me rather abruptly, and one woman began hugging the others and kissing them on both cheeks. Hollie and I smiled and the ladies smiled shyly back, but no one approached us. One woman gave us a huge smile each time she looked in our direction, but soon pulled a black veil over her face until only the slits of her eyes were showing and quickly slipped out the door.
The woman who began the hugging finally came up to Hollie and I and hugged us, kissing us on both cheeks, wishing us "Salaam Allekium" (I don't know how you spell it, sorry) and I murmured "salaam" in return. I know there is another traditional saying, but the meaning is "Peace of Allah" and "Allah's peace upon you", whereas "Salaam" is merely "peace." I'm fine with wishing someone peace, in fact that's what I"m committed to as a Christian, but the peace that comes from God, not Allah.
The woman was the Imam's wife. She asked where we were from and why we were there. I told her I had never been to a Mosque before, and was curious about what was there and who was there. She asked if we were American, if we were Christian, and what kind of Christian. I said yes, yes, and Baptist. She asked if I had alwas been Baptist. I answered no... only a year. (hehehe... how do you explain "non-denominational" to a Bosnian Muslim?) SO she asked if I understood my religion. I said yes.
"Are you SURE?"
"Yes."
"Are you SURE you are sure?" she insisted.
"Well obviously God is too big to fit inside my small head, but yes, I understand my religion. I am in school to learn more, and of course we are always learning."
"Hmm... you have to go?"
Hollie and I shook our heads no.
"Come and sit down. My English not so good, I study for six months now, though I have been in America fo six years. COme sit. Now. This is the problem with Christians: you do not understand who Jesus is. Muslims do not agree that he is GOd. He cannot be the son of God. God has no son, no wife, no beginning, no end. Jesus cannot be God."
She went on for a good ten minutes expounding on that fact. Hollie tried to interject that Jesus said in the Bible who He was, but the Imam's wife interupted.
"No, you see. The Bible, it is corrupted. Shatan has corrupted it." And went on to expound on that point for a good full five minutes.
"May I explain to you how we see Jesus?" I asked when I could get a word in edgewise. She nodded.
"God, who you call Allah, made the whole world. Yes? And so God made man, because He wanted man to be in fellowship with Him. He wanted to be friends with man. But Shatan came and said to Adam and Eve, the first man and woman, "you can be like God. Take this fruit from the tree God forbade you to eat from, and you will be like Him." Adam and Eve disobeyed God and took this fruit. But Shatan lied to them, this did not make them like God, it caused them to sin and they understood sin. And God cannot look on sin, because He is righteous. He is a righteous God who cannot sin and cannot look upon sin. So He said to Adam and Eve, 'Go out from the garden!'
Shatan said, "Aha! God cannot look upon sin, look, the man has sinned. Now he is mine!" But God said, "NO! I created them! I love them! They must still be mine!" So He sent the prophets, Abraham, Isaiah, and others, to tell mankind how to live righteously, so that they could have communion with God. But man said to the prophets, "Who are you to tell us this? You are man like us! You know nothing!" They didn't realize that God sent them. So they rejected the prophets.
God decided that He would go Himself to tell mankind how to live. He wanted us to understand so we could have communion with Him. But man cannot look upon GOd directly, because He is so wonderful and glorious. His majesty is too much for us to see; we will die if we look on Him. So He came in the form of a man. He had to come as a man so that mankind could see Him and have relationship with Him. And the man who was God was named Jesus."
She nodded and was listening intently, agreeing with all that I said, UNTIL I said "That man was named Jesus."
"NO! This cannot be. Jesus was a PROPHET! A good prophet. We love the prophet Isa. Isa is what we call Jesus. But a prophet! He and Mohammed were very close..."
And she continued for a long time after that about different stories from the Quaran about Jesus and Mary, and how it is written that Jesus said specifically that He never claimed to be God. I wanted to get into Pharisaical lies etc. but could barely get a word in edgewise.
"You see, man corrupts all good things, and man has corrupted the Bible. For example, you celebrate Christmas in December. But Jesus was very clearly born in springtime. Quaran says that Mary ate a date after Gabriel spoke to her. A fresh date. How can you eat a fresh date in winter?"
I explained why CHristians celebrate Christmas in winter, and emphasized that this was not something that was in the Bible, just a tradition.
'You see? Pagan influences corrupt."
"Yes, I agree. So Mohammed had a Christian wife and a Jewish wife. Since pagans corrupt, did not these pagan wives corrupt Mohammed? He had three wives not Islamic, no?"
"No! He had NINE wives. BUt princesses, so that their people would come to know Islam."
"They were pagan."
"But you see, man is a step ahead of woman. So man always leads."
"Yes, the man is the head, but isn't the woman the neck, turning the head whichever way she wants?" (I love 'My big fat Greek wedding.' Who knew it would help in theological debates).
All three of us laughed at that point.
"No! Man is a step ahead of woman."
"But if Mohammed had nine wives, that would be more women than man, so wouldn't that put the pagan wives at least a FEW steps ahead of the man?"
She didn't get that reasoning, and went on to talk about the fallibility of the Bible, and more Islamic stories about Shatan and Gabriel fighting over the Quaran.
David poked his head in and said we had to go, and the Imam's wife followed us out encouraging us to get a copy of the Quaran and start researching on the internet about Islam.
As I put on my shoes, she said,
"Pray to God to open your eyes to truth."
"I will pray to God to open my eyes to Truth. I pray also that He opens your eyes to Truth."
She smiled a, "I've got it covered, honey, thanks." look on her face.
"You DO realize," the missionary stated when Hollie and I retold this story, "that you just took on the most devout Muslim in the entire area."
"All I wanted was for us to plant ONE seed of doubt in her mind, so that her eyes could be opened to Truth." Hollie replied.
"Obviously we won't make a change today, we just met her. But its a start."
Hopefully, anyway. We are going to try and go back in two weeks. The Imam's wife has always wanted to be an Imam's wife, she waited until she found an Imam - who was 20 years older than her - to get married. "Islam is all that I am, all that I love." She told us.
Funny thing, I had been feeling nausious the entire day, and as soon as we started the conversation with the Imam's wife it went away and has stayed away all day. No, it was not nervousness. I'm pretty sure it was Spiritual Warfare. Another funny thing was that once the Imam's wife found out Hollie was married, she targeted me for most of the conversation and sort of blew off Hollie. HOllie attributed it to the fact that since she was married, she would follow whatever her husband believed, and so would be 'unconvertable' until he was converted.

Anywayz. So that was my first exposure and experience with Muslims and Bosnians.

Wow.

Now, the hysterical part of this is that when I was in Jr. High, I told God that He could call me to be whatever He wanted, but if He called me to be a Missionary, I would have to tell Him no, so just don't bother. My reasoning was that we got "Voice of the Martyrs' when I was younger and I was convinced that all missionaries were persecuted brutally and most were martyred. So when God called me to be a Missionary, or I at least responded to that call, I told Him, "Fine, but please please please don't call me to work with Muslims or Communists."
I thought Bosnians were Eastern Orthodox when I started researching them. Nope. The Bosniak Bosnians are all Muslim. At least in this area. I've been to an EX-communist country four times, but I'm curious to see if I go into a communist country one of these days. God DOES have a sense of humor, and He likes to remind us -or at least me, I don't know about you- that HE is the one who calls the shots. :-)
Anyhoo. IN other news, the head chef in the cafeteria started a food-fight with me when I started to sing, "Oh Suzanna" - which he hates, and I do just to irritate him. :-) I do not like working for other people, I would far rather have my own business and call the shots myself. But if I HAVE to work for someone, I'm glad its here, with fun people who love Jesus and are committed to keeping the workplace fun. God has blessed me a lot, with an amazing family, good friends, an awesome school, amazing opportunities to serve and witness for Him. Most importantly, He gave me a rich relationship with Him, which has permeated into every area of my life. Halelujah.

~Princess Ouch~

Paradigm shift: Foreign Missions in my backyard

Just a few quick thoughts. I'm reading my professor's dissertation for my class in Advanced issues in Missions. He's going over a position in the International Mission Board (Southern Baptist) called a Strategy Coordinator, which used to be known as a non-residential missionary. Basically the Strategy Coordinator 'targets' a people group (doesn't that sound all official now!) and researches the absolute best way to reach that people group with the Gospel. The SC takes into account all resources, other ministries already in effect, most responsive areas or effective strategies in sharing the gospel with said people group, and then helps put the plan into action. Usually the SC partners with other mission agencies or organizations and has missionaries on the field working "under" him or her.
This summer I heard of some interesting situations involving Romanians and Gypsies in Spain and England. I did some research online and then came across a promotional video on the IMB website (www.imb.org) that told of the unique opportunity for sharing the Gospel with people from closed countries in London, England. For my Contemporary Youth Missions class I'm reading a book called "World at your door" which discusses the many unique opportunities to be a 'foreign missionary" right here in America. The 10/40 window often sends its top 30% in students abroad - namely America - for studying in College or High School Exchange programs. These countries are usually closed to the Gospel or foreign missionaries. The book outlines the unique opportunity so many Christians are passing up in sharing the Gospel with these foreign students who are far away from home, lonely, and open to a loving Christian family and their Message of Hope.
I work with a lady from India. She is about my mom's age, and likes to tell me off at work. I am hoping to do an internship in India, and my coworker has strictly forbidden me to go to India until she goes home so that she can 'take care' of me while I'm overseas.
The woman is amazing: she takes Hebrew, speaks 4 languages already, is a home maker, works 20 hours a week, and entertains the numerous guests her husband brings home or who pop in on her unexpectedly. I've often wanted to visit her but don't want to add to her already overwhelming schedule. Once I asked her if she wanted help cleaning or cooking at home and she looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "I can take care of my own home!" She sniffed. Woops.
Last week she was really tired after work and was walking slowly to the grill to make her dinner.
"Do you want me to make that for you?" I asked. She blinked and slowly handed me her bowl.
"This is the first time you've cooked for me." She commented. I usually pop into work between classes/work to get food, and she often makes my sandwhich (she calls it 'Rachel's Pesto Panini" because I usually order a Chicken Panini with extra pesto.)
So today I hopped into work again with my friend and low and behold, there was my indian friend working. We started teasing each other. Her new thing is joking about how I must really be an old woman, because all I eat is "Rabbit food" (salad/fruit stuffs) and ''such bland food" (I never put five tablespoons of red pepper on my mashed potatoes like she and the other Asian students do) that obviously my stomach is weak like an old lady.
So I started ranting about how Pesto was a VERY flavor-ful addition which meant I was NOT old. She sighed and said yes, us poor Americans don't know what we are missing in food. Luke, our shift-manager had apparently been over to her house the other day and she sighed about how she didn't know how to cook for such weak-stomached people.
"Well I'll tell you what, ma'am. Next semester I and some friends are probably going to get an apartment. So we'll just invite you over to MY house and I'll cook for you, and you can see how good American food can be if its done RIGHT."
She looked at me and blinked. "Yes, that might be good. I have only been told once that I will be invited to an American house, but they haven't had us over yet."
This woman has been in the States for several years! And is rarely invited over. She said she can't wait to go back to India, because America is the most lonely place in the world.

This afternoon I am meeting with my church planting team and some missionaries from overseas. There is a people group that we are going to try and start a church with, however we arne't too sure how to get into the community yet. Apparently when we went to their ethnic resturaunt last Sunday we went during Ramadan, which is why we were the only customers!! Woops. It was a really cute, hole-in-the-wall resturaunt with a grocery store that may be my new favorite place regaurdless if we get this church plant off the ground.
Anyhoo. Am hoping to get into the Gypsy community here as well, but THAT will be a whole 'nother ball game.

Speaking of ball games, I went to our school soccer game the other day. After watching Romania play Italy for the World Cup last year, I was pretty well disguisted. I can't blame it on American's playing soccer, because there was a hispanic guy and a guy from Ghana on our team, and lets just say our team was slaughtered.
*sigh* And I can't play 'cause the sports are guy-only. Pooh.
I would try to change that, but I am taking three 400 level classes this semester, and time is rather crunched.
Speaking of which, I need to get back to studying my professor's dissertation.

Ciao,

Princess Ouch.

Spiritual Warfare paper

So I'm not sure what the general consensus is about me posting my homework on here, but I personally think it's cool and haven't gotten any complaints so far so am gonna keep doing it. :-)
For spiritual Warfare, we didn't have an "exam" per se, we had a 'take home exam' in the form of a hypothetical mission team situation that was based off of real life situations, and we had to 'diagnose' if they were dealing with personal, worldly, or demonic spiritual warfare. Then we had to give a detailed outline of how we would advise the incoming teams and future teams. We also had to find ways to involve the missions team with the local church. So anyway, here is what I wrote. Hope you enjoy.



DHAKAN MINISTRY STRATEGY AND TEAM ASSESSMENT
Dhaka, Bangladesh is a place filled with lost people in desperate need of the Good News of Jesus Christ. While Good News International is hard at work trying to meet this need, the organization has experienced some severe challenges and setbacks with its missionaries. While all team members go in with the best intentions and a zeal to reach the lost for Christ, this last team especially has broken apart and over half the members have left hurting and beyond discouraged. Good News International, or GNI as it will hitherto be referred to, is now working to determine why the previous team encountered so much opposition and what can be done to prevent this from happening again. It is also important to determine how to encourage the remaining missionaries who are still working amongst the people of Dhaka.
The city of Dhaka itself is a cesspool of dysfunction, oppression and spiritual strongholds. While the official religion is Islam, most of the population is uneducated and has mixed animistic beliefs with the doctrine of Islam. Superstition rages rampant and effects the daily lives of the people. It is important for GNI to realize that while many of the main issues may have started simply as personal indiscretion and lack of education, it is now very easy for Satanic forces to influence people as they regularly consult witchdoctors and other authority figures deeply involved in cultic practices. Consultation of spirits and petitioning of dead saints is a regular practice. While GNI does not believe in ‘territorial spirits’ or blaming all problems on demons, it is safe to say that through consultation of the dead and petitioning for spiritual manipulations through magical practices or incantations, demons are able to take advantage of the situation. Any mission team must be aware of this spiritual factor and create a plan for proactive spiritual warfare in their mission strategy.
A large Spiritual stronghold in Dhaka is the attack against the family unit. Men are valued far more than the women who are not respected and taken advantage of in several ways. Brothels are common. The rising problem of HIV/AIDS amongst both married and unmarried seems to indicate that marriages are unhealthy and not expected to be a very functional unit of society. The view of children is skewed as well, as it is permissible to abandon or murder a baby daughter. A healthy society must have at its core a healthy family unit. In Dhaka, this family unit is being culturally and spiritually ripped into shreds. A missionary team must take this into account, as it will not only effect their ministry strategy and experiences, but will subconsciously effect any married couples working as missionaries. They must be careful to be proactive in their relationship and not allow these unhealthy ideas to creep into their marriage and cause disunion. In order for a society to be strong, there must be a strong family unit at its heart, as that is where most issues in society arise. Crime is committed by those who do not have good moral or ethical codes. Ethical codes grow out of how one is raised and treated in a family. How a man treats his wife is based on how he saw his father treat his mother and other women as a boy. A woman will expect a man to treat her very similarly to how her father treated her mother and her as a little girl. How adults interact with one another is largely based on how they were raised by their parents to treat others and how they interacted with their siblings as a child. Not to mention how a culture’s social structure works is based around what type of family is found in that culture. The economy is based of families as customers buying items for the home. So many aspects depend on a family. Religion is taught in the home. If Satan is able to bind the family unit in a cesspool of lies, dysfunction and trauma, his job is half done.
The corrupt government, regular natural disasters and high poverty is a worldly stronghold that may overwhelm and discourage any missionaries from America or the Western World. Humanitarian aid may be a viable method of opening doors for the Gospel, but it is important for all missionary teams to remember that their main goal in Dhaka is not to change the world but to present the people of Dhaka with a relationship with Jesus Christ.
The people of Dhaka are either incredibly discouraging or outright hostile to minority religions outside of Islam. Persecution occurs sporadically, especially against any converts from Islam to Christianity. This is a demonic issue that has occurred ever since the formation of the church. While it is true that “the blood of the Martyrs watered the seeds of the church” it is frightening and discouraging to local believers. Fear of persecution is natural, yet it must still be addressed with biblical truth. The early church in Acts saw persecution as to be counted worthy of suffering for Christ. In a sense, it was a matter of honor. However, viewing pain and suffering as honor is a matter of spiritual growth and sanctification that the Christians in Dhaka have yet to gain.
The small Christian presence in Dhaka struggles with discouragement and apathy. This is an issue of great concern to any thing GNI may try to do for the city, as a spirit of apathy may undermine a great deal of potential work. The issue is partially due to ignorance on the Church’s part as to how to begin ministry and evangelism. It is partially due to fear and discouragement when persecution repeatedly breaks out in response to evangelistic work in the area. However it is very likely that a good part of it is due to Spiritual oppression that should be addressed both by the Church and by the missions team.
In the previous team, several members appear to have been unprepared for their time in Dhaka. This can be seen in the outcome of one couple’s relationship. The couple’s Muslim neighbor claims their marital problems to be a result of a curse cast on the husband. While a curse may have been cast on the husband, there are too many spiritual factors to take into consideration to blame the issues on only one event. The couple did not appear to be very involved with the mission organization, but were rather isolated. They lived close to another single team member but did not have regular contact with her, and were able to successfully hide their problems from the mission leadership until it was too late. The leadership and the couple were not responsible in their relationship to one another in this case, as it is the job of the leadership to help protect their missionaries from such issues, and it is the job of the missionaries to seek help, accountability and discipleship when such issues arise. The local culture has a very unhealthy view towards the family, towards women and towards a man’s role in the family unit. As has previously been discussed, missionary couples need to be aware of this and proactively take a stand against any demonic influences, temptations, or attacks in the area of family. This is done through prayer and accountability with other believers.
The husband cannot be the only one to blame. While less is known about the wife, it is disappointing to see that instead of going to the leadership or missions team for help and counsel, she chose instead to start secretly taking anti-depressant medication. While there is nothing sinful about taking medication, it is concerning to see that she hid this fact from other members of the team. Deceit did not help the situation at all. The medication may have led to the neglect and malnourishment the children suffered, as psychiatric medication often will effect the patient’s ability to care for others and be aware of the surrounding situations. This family may have suffered from demonic oppression, but it is apparent that they did not understand the situation they were going to, nor did they understand how to utilize the resources available to them. Ignorance, isolation, lack of communication and team work may be the core issues that allowed these spiritual issues to take root and effect the couple. The apostle Paul warns the church to not forsake fellowship with other Christians, and the consequences of this can be seen in the unfortunate events that took place in this family’s life. It is also unfortunate that the leadership of that team allowed the couple to get so isolated and did not seek to check on them regularly, disciple them through adjusting to the local culture or teach them how to become effective missionaries in that area.
The young woman who lived nearby this couple also suffered from isolation and discouragement. However in her case it appears to be more obvious that she did not understand the culture she was working in. A Muslim neighbor reported repeated harassment of the girl by other Muslim men because of her repeated appearances in public “uncovered.” She was also the object of “the evil eye” of a neighbor’s wife. The evil eye was more probably the angry glare of a jealous wife who was unhappy that a single, independent, educated woman took up nearby residence and could become a potential threat to her marriage. It is unknown if the Muslim wife did more than just “cast the evil eye,” but it is probable that this neighbor did not make life easy for the young woman.
In man-centered cultures like the one in Dhaka, it is important for American women to understand that their missions experience will be completely different than their male co-workers, and that their ministry will be effected by how they engage the culture. While it may not be necessary for them to adopt local dress and ‘covering’ traditions completely, it is usually a good idea to show an attempt at respecting the local view of modesty. It is also often a good idea for single women to make it clear that they are connected to a man’s household, that they are women of good report and have the approval of the “head” of “their” household. This head may be the leader of the missions team, an older married man on the team, or a local Christian who is willing to “adopt” the single woman into his household. This will help keep the lady from being too isolated as well as better enable her to engage the local culture in an appropriate way, while still retaining her own cultural, personal, and spiritual identity. If men continue to harass her she can defer them to her “household head,” although it is doubtful that this will be an issue if the locals see these cultural issues addressed.
The single man on the team appears to have been grossly effected by the sexual immorality that permeates almost every aspect of life in Dhaka. Again, however, the young man’s issues lie rooted in lack of Christian fellowship. It is commendable that he was able to make friends amongst the local Muslim young men, however his fellowship should not have been exclusive to the unbelievers of the area. This led to conformity and sin on his part, and allowing demonic influences take root in his life. Proverbs 12:26 says that a righteous man will choose his friends carefully. Even righteous people can be led astray if the friends they choose to socialize with wish to lead them astray.
The remaining team members consist of a couple with two teenaged children and another single young woman. None seem to suffer from any overwhelming Spiritual issues such as the previous five members did. However, the daughter of the married couple is struggling with self-abusive issues and the single woman is struggling with anxiety and apprehension.
The teenage daughter is currently enrolled in a private school with several affluent, wealthy Bangladeshi colleagues. Several of them struggle with cutting themselves on the arms and legs, and the daughter is also currently practicing this self-mutilation. She could be struggling with the constant pressures of being a foreigner and a Christian in a climate hostile to non-Islamic religions, as well as not having the material affluence and flexibility her classmates have. It is advisable for the parents to take time with their daughter to explore what the underlying issues are. They might even strongly consider taking her out of that school for a while and home schooling her to help her heal physically, emotionally and spiritually, as well as equip her, before putting her back in that situation.
The remaining young woman on the team is struggling with fear that she may be the next ‘victim’ of the Spiritual battle that has effected her co workers so profoundly. Her fears are completely understandable, yet if she is reminded of who she is in Christ and understands why things turned out the way they did with her co-workers, her fears should soon be alleviated. There is no need for her to worry, she is actively involved with the Christian community, has fellowship and accountability and is developing a dynamic ministry amongst the poor Muslim women of the slums. She does not appear to be culturally naïve, but is finding a good balance between acculturation and maintaining personal identity. As long as she continues proactively staying strong in Christ, she will be a strong asset to the missions team. “Anxiety in the heart of a man causes depression. But a good word makes it glad.” (proverbs 12:25) The young women will find this verse to be especially true in her case.
Future team members in this ministry should be made aware of the issues struggled with by the previous team members. Not, of course, in a way that spreads gossip or will hurt the previous team members, but in anonymity. The incoming members should be made aware of the seriousness of the situations they may be dealing with and how important fellowship and standing firm in the Spirit is.
The future team members should also be engaged in regular prayer, fellowship, Bible study, and accountability with one another. They are all in a strange place with a common goal, and there is no reason why they should not be involved in each other’s lives. It will help them encourage one another to have their concerns, struggles, fears and frustrations validated, as well as to hear each other’s successes and joys on the field. “We have no witness when we are living in the flesh.” It is also important to remember that Satan is a predator trying to kill the mission team’s witness. How does a predator hunt? By isolating it’s prey. It is when the hunted remains in packs that the hunter leaves them alone. Only the stragglers, the foolish who run off independently are the ones the predator targets to kill. This is an important lesson for Christians who believe they should “run off and do their own thing.”
There are many Spiritual strongholds in Dhaka that need addressed, but cannot be acted upon all at once. However, prayer walking around Dhaka as a group may be a way to keep the team from feeling overwhelmed with their inability to do more, and will also begin addressing needs on a spiritual level that they do not have the physical time or energy to do more about. This is also a very basic activity that the local church could begin to engage in.
Regular check-ups, follow ups, and discipleship meetings should be implemented with the team members. If a team member begins missing meetings or not coming to fellowship gatherings, this should be cause for concern. Isolation is unacceptable. Missionaries should be encouraged strongly to fellowship with their neighbors, make friends amongst the locals and unbelievers, and try to reach the community in as many ways as they can; but not to the extent that they or the team suffers.
Fellowship with the local church should begin more proactively as well. The foreign missionaries need local encouragement and the local church can benefit greatly from the many resources and fresh zeal the foreign Christian brothers and sisters can bring. “Two are better than one… though one may be overpowered by another, two can with stand him.” (Ecclesiastes 4:12)
The Bangladeshi church and the missions team should partner together to fight the fear, apathy and ignorance found in the church. This can be done through community prayer and Bible study, discipleship, fellowship, and teaching programs. The church needs to have a healthy understanding of the Great Commission and why it is important for the individuals of the church to step up and answer the call. They must take ownership for the evangelism of their people. If the mission team and the church work in opposition or in indifference to one another, it will complicate matters when they go out into non-believing circles. Not only is it silly for the two entities to have the same goal working in the same city yet work apart, but it will raise questions amongst the non-believers. In a Muslim world, a Christian convert is leaving a tight-knit community. While Dhaka seems to only have gleaned the dysfunctional aspects of this close-knit community, it will still be important for converts to know they are entering into a close Christian community and family of believers. They should not be any more alone than the missionaries. While the missionaries can help and disciple the Bangledashi converts, it would be ideal if the church could step up and begin to take over the discipleship. They are far better equipped linguistically and culturally to address issues that will come up that the Western team simply will not understand or be able to handle as effectively as the local church.
The church and team should also begin addressing the grossly unhealthy way that the family is viewed and treated. The population is severely uneducated. Programs may be started addressing basic education and health, but the focus should be to open doors for the Gospel and addressing these morality issues, not merely making life more comfortable or decent. Comfort, health, education, and a decent living standard are good things, but not the reason why the team is in Dhaka.
Abortion alternatives should be explored, although beginning a ministry such as an adoption and women’s center may be met by strong opposition from the government and abortion clinics. However, it still is an option that could be explored. The local Bangladeshi church should be as involved in this investigation as much as possible.
The team and church should begin equipping themselves for all of this primarily through prayer. Prayer is essential for effective ministry and has been proven time and again to have remarkable effects. The team should also be sure to enlist a very strong prayer network from their home churches and Christian communities.
In-depth Bible studies need to take place on a regular basis, and team members should take turns in leading the study and sharing how the lesson has challenged them and what they are going to change in their ministry because of it.
GNI has targeted an extremely challenging part of the world to do ministry. However, few places could need a mission team more than the city of Dhaka! Satan has had his way far too long in this city, and it is time that the Spiritual strongholds are knocked down with the Gospel Truth. Missionaries interested in partnering with GNI and working in Dhaka must understand the challenges, trials, and possible tribulations they may encounter while in the city. Potential missionaries must understand thoroughly who they are in Christ. They must not be afraid of Spiritual encounters or opposition, as they will experience much of this in Dhaka. However, it is sure that if they are sincere in their desire to share the Gospel in this difficult field, they will find themselves standing before the Lord and hear Him say one day, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”