“What in the world are we doing here?”
We would be lying if we said that question has not gone through our minds or come up in conversation multiple times in the last 10 days. I mean seriously, who in their right minds gives up the comfort of family and friends and the potential to make a lot of money; the ease of life in the US sheltered from the real need of the world, to spend a year and a half fundraising to turn their lives upside down and move to Africa as missionaries? We would have to be nuts to do something like that! Well, we’ve always been a little nuts (I type this as Luke is subsequently dancing and brushing his teeth). Even so, we’ve definitely had some freak out moments since we arrived in Zambia.
New people, new sights, new sounds, new smells. We have a new definition of clean, a new definition of sanitary; a new definition of normal and appropriate. Potholes have taken on a whole new meaning, as have snails, flies, waiting lines and power outages. And because we are in a sort of limbo, waiting in the capital until we can settle into our new home in Solwezi in early January, we have a lot of time to think, and ponder, and question, and doubt.
Keep in mind that from our first date, our entire relationship has been focused on getting here – serving God in Africa, so to question that call is to question the last six years and the entire future. (One conversation earlier had us discussing the “what ifs” if this mission thing “didn’t work out”… Med school? Hospitality? Missions pastor?) But God is good, and just when we’ve convinced ourselves that we really are crazy and need to rethink our plans, He provides a voice of reason and reassurance in the least likely of places. The team here in Lusaka had a dinner and movie night tonight, and went to see The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the latest of the Chronicles of Narnia movies (yes, there is a movie theater here, and it was only about $3 each!).
Throughout the movie, various characters are tempted to turn back or away from the mission at hand, distracted and lured in by things like wealth or power. Upon discovering the stream that turns everything to gold, Edmund excitedly told Lucy how rich they would be back in their world, with all the luxuries they could imagine. But they are reminded they can’t take those luxuries with them. Or even at the end when Caspian has the opportunity to cross into Aslan’s country with the prospect of seeing his father, he knows that for right now he must stay because the people of Narnia need him. Each character has to face down his or her major fear or temptation, and stand strong through the trials, knowing that the ultimate reward will be greater.
“’I tell you the truth,’ Jesus replied. ‘no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age … and in the age to come, eternal life.’” –Mark 10:29-30
There are so many things we could have if we threw in the towel and returned home. The opportunities for success by the world’s standards knock at our doorsteps. But we can’t take our riches with us from this world. Life would have very little meaning and purpose for us if we were not fulfilling God’s purpose for us. The people of Narnia needed King Edmund and Queen Lucy for a time, and at the end of this movie, it was clear their time there was over and they had fulfilled the purpose Aslan had for them. Their cousin Eustace though, would surely return as the people of Narnia still had a need for him.
For now, we know God has a purpose for us here in Zambia. In these few weeks of limbo, it is easy to get clouded vision, distracted by the frustrations and discomfort, letting temptations and lies creep into sight and mind before we have a chance to dig in and begin to really serve. In his new book about serving others, a dear friend from our church back home wrote, “It’s like using a video camera. It will automatically focus on the subject you want to shoot, but if something pops up between the camera and the intended subject in your field of vision, it will change its focus to the unwanted obstruction. You need to re-focus on what you wanted to see originally.”
Originally, we wanted to see God glorified… to see people from every tribe, tongue, people and nation praising and worshiping Him at His throne. We wanted to see orphaned and vulnerable children experiencing love. We wanted to see our Zambian brothers and sisters empowered to take the gospel to those who had no hope. And despite the temptation of an “easier” life or a life full of material wealth, we know that God’s purpose and plan for our lives will bring much greater reward than we could ever obtain for ourselves. We don’t know when, like Lucy and Edmund, we will return home to stay, but for now know that God wants to use us to help his people here. Despite obstacles and temptations, we know His purpose will reign true. As Reepicheep says when talking of Aslan’s country, “we have nothing if not belief.”
“The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever.” (1 John 2:17)
22 December 2010
12 December 2010
On African Soil
The title of this blog is deceiving. There really isn’t a whole lot of soil here… it’s more a red, sandy clay that when dry creates a slightly abrasive surface on all floors (think: sandpaper) and when wet, a thick red clay, similar to the kind you would use to create pottery by hand. Basically, though, it’s everywhere.
Anyhoo, enough about the soil, although you’d be interested in all the things climbing and crawling along in it, like giant centipedes and snails and cute little lizards… And then there’s the things growing out of the ground, like the mango trees, which aren’t quite ready for eating raw, but when cooked take on a flavor and consistency similar to cooked apples. There are absolutely amazing flowers as well – some lilies and other familiar ones, and some that look like they belong in the rainforest.
Speaking of rain, we’ve had some rain basically every day. The power has stayed on since we’ve arrived, though our water was off when we first got here. Today was actually sunny most of the day and Luke and I went out on a walk and visited a nearby market. We had gone to a grocery store when we first arrived to get milk and cereal and fruit and meat and such to last a few days (to my Dallas friends, it reminded me of Fiesta), but the market is completely different… especially considering the route we took had us basically going through the town dump, jumping over ditches where sewage mixed with rainwater ran alongside the alley way. I realize as I write this that a few of you are probably freaking out a bit about the “conditions” in which we are living – don’t worry – it’s not like that everywhere; even so, we constantly praise God for His provision in our lives, and for allowing us the opportunity to see what blessed lives we have lived.
So at the market, you can buy clothing – likely imported, used clothing, stacked in piles and definitely not very clean. You can also buy fresh fruits and vegetables. Planning to make spaghetti tonight, we bought a few tomatoes and a green pepper for about 500 kwacha each. That’s roughly a dime in US dollars. We also bought a large eggplant for 3,000 kwacha, about 60 cents (and we hear we paid the “white man’s price” – significantly inflated from what the local Zambians would pay). Also along the market path were butchers, barbers, and other tradesmen of sorts. We found a route back to the compound that involved trudging through much less waste and sewage – directly to the door of our compound.
We are currently staying at the Evangelical Church of Zambia compound outside Lusaka, Zambia. We have a quaint little guest house here until we move to Solwezi in early January. It is interesting living out of suitcases and crates, and one box that we had to open and now think we will have to replace before moving north. The first two nights we had dinner with other missionaries, but cooked our first real meal here tonight, making spaghetti with makeshift pots and pans and serving utensils. We look forward to settling into our own kitchen and buying spices and such and having a refrigerator bigger than a small dorm fridge. We also look forward to digging into “daily life.” Daily life right now basically consists of sleeping, cooking, eating and conversations here and there with the few missionaries here about what we can expect (or basically, not to have expectations). We’re learning early lessons in slowing down and taking life as it comes. We will be getting our car tomorrow night, and then may venture out a bit and explore as time allows.
We will fly to Solwezi Monday-Thursday for some time with the Bruce family before they head back to New Zealand. We will then spend Christmas and New Year’s here before moving to Solwezi. We hear that we will be attending a presentation of “Messiah” next Friday and have a big barbecue, or “Brie” for Christmas. We will try to update as we get settled in, but definitely appreciate your prayers as our entire lives and all that we know and are accustomed to are changed and turned upside down.
Thank you for your prayers, your encouragement and your support!
Note: I was not able to post this last night while it was still true. Shortly after going to bed, it stormed, and then the power went out until sometime mid-day today.
Anyhoo, enough about the soil, although you’d be interested in all the things climbing and crawling along in it, like giant centipedes and snails and cute little lizards… And then there’s the things growing out of the ground, like the mango trees, which aren’t quite ready for eating raw, but when cooked take on a flavor and consistency similar to cooked apples. There are absolutely amazing flowers as well – some lilies and other familiar ones, and some that look like they belong in the rainforest.
Speaking of rain, we’ve had some rain basically every day. The power has stayed on since we’ve arrived, though our water was off when we first got here. Today was actually sunny most of the day and Luke and I went out on a walk and visited a nearby market. We had gone to a grocery store when we first arrived to get milk and cereal and fruit and meat and such to last a few days (to my Dallas friends, it reminded me of Fiesta), but the market is completely different… especially considering the route we took had us basically going through the town dump, jumping over ditches where sewage mixed with rainwater ran alongside the alley way. I realize as I write this that a few of you are probably freaking out a bit about the “conditions” in which we are living – don’t worry – it’s not like that everywhere; even so, we constantly praise God for His provision in our lives, and for allowing us the opportunity to see what blessed lives we have lived.
So at the market, you can buy clothing – likely imported, used clothing, stacked in piles and definitely not very clean. You can also buy fresh fruits and vegetables. Planning to make spaghetti tonight, we bought a few tomatoes and a green pepper for about 500 kwacha each. That’s roughly a dime in US dollars. We also bought a large eggplant for 3,000 kwacha, about 60 cents (and we hear we paid the “white man’s price” – significantly inflated from what the local Zambians would pay). Also along the market path were butchers, barbers, and other tradesmen of sorts. We found a route back to the compound that involved trudging through much less waste and sewage – directly to the door of our compound.
We are currently staying at the Evangelical Church of Zambia compound outside Lusaka, Zambia. We have a quaint little guest house here until we move to Solwezi in early January. It is interesting living out of suitcases and crates, and one box that we had to open and now think we will have to replace before moving north. The first two nights we had dinner with other missionaries, but cooked our first real meal here tonight, making spaghetti with makeshift pots and pans and serving utensils. We look forward to settling into our own kitchen and buying spices and such and having a refrigerator bigger than a small dorm fridge. We also look forward to digging into “daily life.” Daily life right now basically consists of sleeping, cooking, eating and conversations here and there with the few missionaries here about what we can expect (or basically, not to have expectations). We’re learning early lessons in slowing down and taking life as it comes. We will be getting our car tomorrow night, and then may venture out a bit and explore as time allows.
We will fly to Solwezi Monday-Thursday for some time with the Bruce family before they head back to New Zealand. We will then spend Christmas and New Year’s here before moving to Solwezi. We hear that we will be attending a presentation of “Messiah” next Friday and have a big barbecue, or “Brie” for Christmas. We will try to update as we get settled in, but definitely appreciate your prayers as our entire lives and all that we know and are accustomed to are changed and turned upside down.
Thank you for your prayers, your encouragement and your support!
Note: I was not able to post this last night while it was still true. Shortly after going to bed, it stormed, and then the power went out until sometime mid-day today.
07 December 2010
And We're Off!
It's finally here.
After more than six years of prayer, planning, and preparation, the time for us to go to Zambia has arrived. We have seen God do amazing things, as the support has been pouring in, and we know that God will continue to do amazing things in and through us.
Thank you to everybody who has partnered with us in this ministry. We would not be boarding a plane this afternoon if not for you, stepping out in faith.
Thank you to all who have been praying for us, for it is your faithful prayers that have moved mountains, opened doors, and sent us off.
We will miss you all, but we find great comfort in knowing that you are still here, missing us and praying for us, too. And with today's technology, we may be half a world away, but we are only one email, one facebook comment, or one Skype conversation away. Please do not hesitate to send us messages. We will make every effort to respond to them (though it may take some time).
As we go, please pray for safe and seamless travel, both for us and our luggage, that we may arrive in Lusaka on Thursday, December 9. Please also pray for our first month as we go through orientation before moving to Solwezi to begin language training.
And please pray for our family, that they may find strength and encouragement in the Lord as we go.
Words escape me as I write this morning, so I apologize if this is jumbled. I just wanted to make sure to post this before we left, and to say "Twasante mwane" ("Thank you") to all of you. We could not have done this without you.
After more than six years of prayer, planning, and preparation, the time for us to go to Zambia has arrived. We have seen God do amazing things, as the support has been pouring in, and we know that God will continue to do amazing things in and through us.
Thank you to everybody who has partnered with us in this ministry. We would not be boarding a plane this afternoon if not for you, stepping out in faith.
Thank you to all who have been praying for us, for it is your faithful prayers that have moved mountains, opened doors, and sent us off.
We will miss you all, but we find great comfort in knowing that you are still here, missing us and praying for us, too. And with today's technology, we may be half a world away, but we are only one email, one facebook comment, or one Skype conversation away. Please do not hesitate to send us messages. We will make every effort to respond to them (though it may take some time).
As we go, please pray for safe and seamless travel, both for us and our luggage, that we may arrive in Lusaka on Thursday, December 9. Please also pray for our first month as we go through orientation before moving to Solwezi to begin language training.
And please pray for our family, that they may find strength and encouragement in the Lord as we go.
Words escape me as I write this morning, so I apologize if this is jumbled. I just wanted to make sure to post this before we left, and to say "Twasante mwane" ("Thank you") to all of you. We could not have done this without you.
20 November 2010
November 2010 Prayer Letter - We're Leaving in December!!!
It's finally here! We have booked our tickets and are preparing to head to Zambia on December 7! But, before we go, we still need $270 in monthly support. Do you want to be a part of this ministry?
Read more in this month's prayer (and praise!) letter:
Read more in this month's prayer (and praise!) letter:
19 October 2010
Stuff
It's amazing how much stuff we have. Seriously. First of all, we've spent the last six years focusing on following God's call in our lives into the mission field. That in itself is a huge deterrent to shopping. Basically, if we didn't need it, we didn't buy it. Other than our mattress set, we haven't invested in any nice furniture, and other than those gifted to us, decorative items are a minimum. Even so, as our departure nears (we're talking 6-8 weeks here people!), we find ourselves surrounded by stuff. We're talking knick knacks and crafts, furniture, electronics, cords (how in the world do we have so many random computer and electronic cords - I have no idea what they all belong to!), clothes, shoes, books, kitchen stuff, files, free stuff from fairs and events....
So what does Jesus say? In the story of the rich ruler, he says, "You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then, come follow me." (Luke 18:22)
Okay. So, sell it all or give it away, and Go. I am never going to claim that I listen to everything God tells me - I have broken so many commandments and sinned like crazy. But, I'm the first to admit that I start feeling a little self-righteous when I think about us following the command to make disciples of all nations as missionaries. Whoo hoo! Look at me God - I'm listening... at least to that. That said, I was also pretty willing to just clear out everything other than a couple suitcases of necessities. After all, God called me to do it and I'd much rather give up my stuff than some of those other sins I've been harboring and not giving over to Him...
Sometimes I think it's enough to show that we're willing. A few weeks ago I started looking around and thinking, "What will we not use before we leave and therefore I can go ahead and sell it?" Teddy bears. I had collected Boyds Bears growing up and had them sitting on a shelf in our bedroom. Forget sentimental, they were impractical so I had to give them up. I posted them on Craigslist and my e-mail box was suddenly filled with responses. Then Luke, in his voice of reason (or just knowing he'd deal with the emotional backlash post-sale), told me he didn't think I really wanted to sell them and perhaps I could have my parents hold onto them for me. He was probably right, and even if I haven't really thanked him yet, my mom sure has. I was willing! But so was Abraham. I realize my stuffed bears hardly compare to the sacrifice of his son, but Abraham was willing to give Isaac up at God's command, and just when the time came, God said he didn't have to make the sacrifice.
Additionally, we've had other missionaries advise us to not be too quick to let go of everything. There's something to be said about taking just enough with you to make it feel like home. So where is the balance? What do I take? What do I wrap up and put in a box in my grandparents' basement until we decide years down the road that we really don't need it - or that maybe we do? Do we sell our fine crystal so someone can enjoy it's splendor, or do we let it sit unused in storage? Do we save old files and documents or shred them? Do we need to take all these books? What about pictures?
And so the process begins. We have people picking up our bookshelves this week and our futon this weekend. I'm weeding out my closet one item at a time, thinking about what would be culturally appropriate to wear in Zambia, and what I might want to keep here for our home assignments. My stuff isn't my idol, the way it was for the rich ruler, so He hasn't asked me to give it all up so I can focus on Him. I think it's different for all of us, and perhaps I should think about what it really is that He wants me to let go of so He will be first and only in my life. In the meantime, I'll continue to sort through my stuff, deciding what to throw away, give away, sell, store or take. And you can help - need anything?
So what does Jesus say? In the story of the rich ruler, he says, "You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then, come follow me." (Luke 18:22)
Okay. So, sell it all or give it away, and Go. I am never going to claim that I listen to everything God tells me - I have broken so many commandments and sinned like crazy. But, I'm the first to admit that I start feeling a little self-righteous when I think about us following the command to make disciples of all nations as missionaries. Whoo hoo! Look at me God - I'm listening... at least to that. That said, I was also pretty willing to just clear out everything other than a couple suitcases of necessities. After all, God called me to do it and I'd much rather give up my stuff than some of those other sins I've been harboring and not giving over to Him...
Sometimes I think it's enough to show that we're willing. A few weeks ago I started looking around and thinking, "What will we not use before we leave and therefore I can go ahead and sell it?" Teddy bears. I had collected Boyds Bears growing up and had them sitting on a shelf in our bedroom. Forget sentimental, they were impractical so I had to give them up. I posted them on Craigslist and my e-mail box was suddenly filled with responses. Then Luke, in his voice of reason (or just knowing he'd deal with the emotional backlash post-sale), told me he didn't think I really wanted to sell them and perhaps I could have my parents hold onto them for me. He was probably right, and even if I haven't really thanked him yet, my mom sure has. I was willing! But so was Abraham. I realize my stuffed bears hardly compare to the sacrifice of his son, but Abraham was willing to give Isaac up at God's command, and just when the time came, God said he didn't have to make the sacrifice.
Additionally, we've had other missionaries advise us to not be too quick to let go of everything. There's something to be said about taking just enough with you to make it feel like home. So where is the balance? What do I take? What do I wrap up and put in a box in my grandparents' basement until we decide years down the road that we really don't need it - or that maybe we do? Do we sell our fine crystal so someone can enjoy it's splendor, or do we let it sit unused in storage? Do we save old files and documents or shred them? Do we need to take all these books? What about pictures?
And so the process begins. We have people picking up our bookshelves this week and our futon this weekend. I'm weeding out my closet one item at a time, thinking about what would be culturally appropriate to wear in Zambia, and what I might want to keep here for our home assignments. My stuff isn't my idol, the way it was for the rich ruler, so He hasn't asked me to give it all up so I can focus on Him. I think it's different for all of us, and perhaps I should think about what it really is that He wants me to let go of so He will be first and only in my life. In the meantime, I'll continue to sort through my stuff, deciding what to throw away, give away, sell, store or take. And you can help - need anything?
October 2010 Prayer Letter!
This fall has been quite eventful! We have seen God work in amazing ways, as we have been both challenged and encouraged. Read more in this month's letter!
25 September 2010
Life... With Purpose
"Yes, and I will rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ this will turn out for my deliverance, as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account."
~Philippians 1:18c-24
On Friday, September 17, 2010, I read these words during my morning devotions. This passage is so familiar to me, as I am sure it is familiar to so many of you, but it never struck me before as it did that morning. I spent much of my day chewing on it, pondering its implications for my life. More specifically, I thought about how God is keeping me here for a specific purpose. The same is true for all of us. The lives we live have a great purpose - a purpose determined by God. That purpose involves affecting others. Paul understood this, stating in verse 24 that he remained alive because the Philippians had something still to learn from him. God was not yet done with him.
As I spent the day meditating on these words, I had no idea that God would use them to comfort me and grow me in the days that would follow.
On Saturday, September 18, 2010, my family was forever changed. That was the day that Mike died. We were immediately faced with the questions that so many in similar circumstances have faced. Questions of "Why? Why would God take Mike from us? What good could possibly come of this?" This event has helped me understand the anger that others express at God when something bad happens - I felt it. It helped me understand the pain of loosing a piece of your heart - I can feel the hole.
I'm not ready to "get over it" yet. And I may never be.
But, I am beginning to understand, I think (maybe).
Everything we do affects those around us. We do not live in isolation, no matter how hard we try. We live in community - that's how we were designed. The purpose we have been given, then, is to play a role in the lives of those around us. As a Christian, I believe this to mean that I am called to share the love of Christ with the people around me. We may not know exactly who we are supposed to affect, but that doesn't necessarily matter. What matters is that we live well, for the lives we have are not our own.
Mike lived well. And we are now getting a glimpse at the impact he had on those around him.
For those who continue, I pray that God will guide us to live in a way that glorifies Him and shows His love to the nations. And I praise God that when my time is finished - when my purpose is complete - I can spend the rest of eternity with Him.
24 September 2010
A Series of Goodbyes, Part 3 - The Close Cousin
On Saturday, September 18, Tiffany and I got in the car and began our drive down to Columbia, MO. We had been planning this trip for several months, having set up several meetings to share with people down there about the ministry we are preparing for. We were excited, looking forward to what promised to be a busy and rewarding weekend. Our emotions were rocked, however, when the phone rang about an hour and a half into our drive. My mom was calling, so I answered.
"Hello"
"Luke! It's Ma."
"Hey, Ma."
"Hey, I've got some bad news coming down from Chicago."
pause
"K..."
"Your cousin Michael was hit by a train and killed last night. We don't know any details, but he was not in a car."
It is only by the grace of God that I managed to keep the car on the road. My mind was racing. What do you do with this information? Did this really happen? People getting hit by trains only happens in movies, right? This can't be real.
But, it is real. So very, very real.
Michael James Rauen was born in mid-July, 1987. Being about a year and a half younger than my younger brother Andrew, Mike was the first cousin born on my mom's side of the family. In all, there are now 16 of us... he was number 5. The thing about our family, though, is that all of the cousins are like siblings. We may not talk all the time, but we know that we are always there for each other. Whenever we get together, it's as though we never really left. So, when people ask if I was close to Mike, all I want to say is, "He's family." For us, that's all that matters.
Mike walked with us for 23 years. His life wasn't always easy, but life never is. He didn't always make the best choices, but nobody ever does. Through it all, he was a good kid.
He was passionate, smart, and kind.
His faith was real, and his love was deep.
We hear stories of people dying and only a handful of people making it to the funeral. We hear stories of people who lived in obscurity and died without anybody knowing. Mike is not one of them. The line at the visitation went out the door and down the street for 6 hours, and only stopped when the funeral director stopped allowing people to get in line. The sanctuary was packed during the service. The funeral procession to the cemetery was at least 40 cars long... we don't know the exact number, as it was too long to see all of and count.
Mike's impact on those who got to know him is undeniable. But knowing all this does not make the loss any less painful.
All I want to do is be able to see him one more time.
To laugh with him again.
To give him a hug and tell him I love him.
Goodbye, Mike. I'm sorry I never got to tell you how excited (and scared) I was for you when you joined the Marines. I'm sorry I never got to tell you how proud of you I am. There are so many conversations I've wanted to have with you, but now I won't get that chance. There were times when I saw or heard something about you and shook my head, or laughed, or said, "That's Mike." There were times when I came across a joke, or a poem, or something Irish, and said, "Mike would love this." I'm glad I got to be a part of your ceremony, though I wish you could have been there with us. It was beautiful. You were a good man, Mike, and I miss you so much.
"Hello"
"Luke! It's Ma."
"Hey, Ma."
"Hey, I've got some bad news coming down from Chicago."
pause
"K..."
"Your cousin Michael was hit by a train and killed last night. We don't know any details, but he was not in a car."
It is only by the grace of God that I managed to keep the car on the road. My mind was racing. What do you do with this information? Did this really happen? People getting hit by trains only happens in movies, right? This can't be real.
But, it is real. So very, very real.
Michael James Rauen was born in mid-July, 1987. Being about a year and a half younger than my younger brother Andrew, Mike was the first cousin born on my mom's side of the family. In all, there are now 16 of us... he was number 5. The thing about our family, though, is that all of the cousins are like siblings. We may not talk all the time, but we know that we are always there for each other. Whenever we get together, it's as though we never really left. So, when people ask if I was close to Mike, all I want to say is, "He's family." For us, that's all that matters.Mike walked with us for 23 years. His life wasn't always easy, but life never is. He didn't always make the best choices, but nobody ever does. Through it all, he was a good kid.
He was passionate, smart, and kind.
His faith was real, and his love was deep.
We hear stories of people dying and only a handful of people making it to the funeral. We hear stories of people who lived in obscurity and died without anybody knowing. Mike is not one of them. The line at the visitation went out the door and down the street for 6 hours, and only stopped when the funeral director stopped allowing people to get in line. The sanctuary was packed during the service. The funeral procession to the cemetery was at least 40 cars long... we don't know the exact number, as it was too long to see all of and count.
Mike's impact on those who got to know him is undeniable. But knowing all this does not make the loss any less painful.
All I want to do is be able to see him one more time.
To laugh with him again.
To give him a hug and tell him I love him.
Goodbye, Mike. I'm sorry I never got to tell you how excited (and scared) I was for you when you joined the Marines. I'm sorry I never got to tell you how proud of you I am. There are so many conversations I've wanted to have with you, but now I won't get that chance. There were times when I saw or heard something about you and shook my head, or laughed, or said, "That's Mike." There were times when I came across a joke, or a poem, or something Irish, and said, "Mike would love this." I'm glad I got to be a part of your ceremony, though I wish you could have been there with us. It was beautiful. You were a good man, Mike, and I miss you so much.
15 September 2010
September 2010 Prayer Letter!
Imagine your world without anybody between the ages of 30 and 50. What do you think it would be like? Would you even be around? This is a reality for many people in AIDS-stricken southern Africa. Read more about it, and how you can help make a difference, in this month's prayer letter.
As always, just click on the image above to be taken to a full-sized version of the letter.
26 August 2010
New Look!
If you haven't noticed, this blog just had a face lift... or a face transplant. I got a little bored and started playing around with the new templates on blogger, and I think I like it. Let me know what you think. I saved the old look, so I can always go back to that if necessary.
10 August 2010
Your Questions... Answered
As much as we try to cover everything about our ministry in our prayer letters (see previous post), we don't want to put you to sleep with pages and pages of text. But, we realize, people have questions. So after getting some facebook feedback and collecting some of the questions you've sent our way, we've compiled the following list of FAQs. Did we miss anything? Ask us. Anytime.
Q. What will you be doing?
A. We will work at LUSA Home-Based Care, a ministry started by a national Zambian woman named Mama Yoba to share the gospel, provide basic education and food to orphans, home visits and encouragement to people dying of AIDS, and life-skill training to members of the community. We will be developing additional programs for the kids, discipling the caregivers and helping those learning life skills to learn how to make a living from what they produce. (There is a fish farm, chicken coop, sewing machines and some basic agriculture.) We will also be facilitating/hosting teams coming through.
Q. What is included in your monthly financial support?
A. Your gifts go toward our monthly salary for our basic living expenses, housing, taxes, international health insurance, a retirement plan (403(b)), transport to and from the field, and administrative support from SIM.
Q. How much do you have to raise?
A. Our support requirement is approximately $5,050 per month. This covers the needs listed above for us plus one-to-three children. (So we aren’t short on funding if the Lord blesses us with a family during our ministry!) We also have a ministry account to cover expenses specific to our ministry (postage, gas, educational supplies, vehicle repair, outreach for AIDS sufferers, etc) that will be about $450 per month.
Q. Are my gifts tax deductible?
A. Yes! SIM will send you receipts for any donations, as well as a yearly receipt for recurring online gifts.
Q. When should we start giving if you’re not leaving for several months?
A. The earlier the better! Any funding that comes in prior to the month of our departure goes toward our relocation expenses. If possible, please sign up right away. (If you know you will be giving monthly gifts in the future, but are not able to start yet, will you tell us how much you plan to give? We have to have 100% of our monthly funding “pledged” in order to buy our plane tickets!)
Q. How long will you be there (and if I want to support you monthly, how long does that continue)?
A. Our commitment is long-term, so we plan to serve as long as that is what God is calling us to do. However, we will return for several months of home assignment after every 2-4 years in the field. Ideally, your commitment to support us will be for the duration of our ministry but pledges are as God guides you and provides for you to give.
Q. Is my support covering any past debt or loans?
A. No. God has graciously provided for all of our needs and we have absolutely no debt!
Q. I want to be part of your ministry to AIDS orphans in Zambia. How do I get started?
A. Sign up for automatic bank withdrawals at www.sim.org/giveusa. Be sure to include our name and the account: #23444. You can also mail a check made out to SIM USA (Memo: #23444 - Wessler) to: SIM USA P.O. Box 7900, Charlotte, NC 28241. Please do not hesitate to ask us for any clarification, forms, etc.
Q. How can I share what you're doing with my family/friends/church so that they can have the opportunity to support you guys?
A. You are welcome (and encouraged) to share our letters and website (http://www.wesslersinzambia.com/) with them or send them directly to us via phone (309-363-2722) or e-mail (luke.wessler@sim.org / tiffany.wessler@sim.org). Also, if you provide us with their contact information, we will contact them and set up a time to get together or talk on the phone. Please share – your referrals and networking are very much appreciated.
Anything else?
Q. What will you be doing?
A. We will work at LUSA Home-Based Care, a ministry started by a national Zambian woman named Mama Yoba to share the gospel, provide basic education and food to orphans, home visits and encouragement to people dying of AIDS, and life-skill training to members of the community. We will be developing additional programs for the kids, discipling the caregivers and helping those learning life skills to learn how to make a living from what they produce. (There is a fish farm, chicken coop, sewing machines and some basic agriculture.) We will also be facilitating/hosting teams coming through.
Q. What is included in your monthly financial support?
A. Your gifts go toward our monthly salary for our basic living expenses, housing, taxes, international health insurance, a retirement plan (403(b)), transport to and from the field, and administrative support from SIM.
Q. How much do you have to raise?
A. Our support requirement is approximately $5,050 per month. This covers the needs listed above for us plus one-to-three children. (So we aren’t short on funding if the Lord blesses us with a family during our ministry!) We also have a ministry account to cover expenses specific to our ministry (postage, gas, educational supplies, vehicle repair, outreach for AIDS sufferers, etc) that will be about $450 per month.
Q. Are my gifts tax deductible?
A. Yes! SIM will send you receipts for any donations, as well as a yearly receipt for recurring online gifts.
Q. When should we start giving if you’re not leaving for several months?
A. The earlier the better! Any funding that comes in prior to the month of our departure goes toward our relocation expenses. If possible, please sign up right away. (If you know you will be giving monthly gifts in the future, but are not able to start yet, will you tell us how much you plan to give? We have to have 100% of our monthly funding “pledged” in order to buy our plane tickets!)
Q. How long will you be there (and if I want to support you monthly, how long does that continue)?
A. Our commitment is long-term, so we plan to serve as long as that is what God is calling us to do. However, we will return for several months of home assignment after every 2-4 years in the field. Ideally, your commitment to support us will be for the duration of our ministry but pledges are as God guides you and provides for you to give.
Q. Is my support covering any past debt or loans?
A. No. God has graciously provided for all of our needs and we have absolutely no debt!
Q. I want to be part of your ministry to AIDS orphans in Zambia. How do I get started?
A. Sign up for automatic bank withdrawals at www.sim.org/giveusa. Be sure to include our name and the account: #23444. You can also mail a check made out to SIM USA (Memo: #23444 - Wessler) to: SIM USA P.O. Box 7900, Charlotte, NC 28241. Please do not hesitate to ask us for any clarification, forms, etc.
Q. How can I share what you're doing with my family/friends/church so that they can have the opportunity to support you guys?
A. You are welcome (and encouraged) to share our letters and website (http://www.wesslersinzambia.com/) with them or send them directly to us via phone (309-363-2722) or e-mail (luke.wessler@sim.org / tiffany.wessler@sim.org). Also, if you provide us with their contact information, we will contact them and set up a time to get together or talk on the phone. Please share – your referrals and networking are very much appreciated.
Anything else?
09 August 2010
August 2010 Prayer Letter!
Scrabble arguments, pies being thrown, and all-out mayhem! Read about it in this month's letter!
(okay, I realize it's not as dramatic as I made it sound, but still... are YOU involved?)
13 July 2010
Full Circle
As I combed Grandma's thin white hair around the bandages where the doctor removed patches of skin cancer, I remembered her combing my white-blonde preschool-age hair, unsure what to do with this little girl she was watching while Mom and Dad were away on a week's vacation. A tomboy herself, Grandma only had one child, my dad, and all his cousins were boys.Despite her reservations and inexperience with little girls, she never had any problem treating me as her little princess, though I think it brought her great comfort that I liked playing with Dad's old lincoln logs and was willing to run around in the yard with my brother and the neighbor kids. Even so, she bought me dolls and dresses and at the age of three or four, a beautiful little yellow coat complete with puffy balls on the end of the hood strings and a muff to keep my hands warm. Grandma took us to the zoo and the Science Center; I accompanied her to the beauty shop and the grocery store. She'd send us out to play and call us in for peanut butter and jelly or homeade soup. We licked off the cookie beaters and when I asked for the whole turkey leg at Thanksgiving dinner when I was probably 6 or 7 years old, that's what I got.
Even at a young age, I knew Grandma had arthritis. I didn't really know what it was, just that her fingers were all sorts of knobby and crooked. We were thrilled to have her walk down the aisle at our wedding four years ago - at that point she was still pretty strong. As Jason's wedding neared last fall, we weren't sure whether or not she would be able to handle the drive. But she was there, smiling through the pain and the growing discomfort from incurable incontinence. And though she desperately would have like to dance at the reception, she was overjoyed that Grandpa could dance with that little girl that she once really didn't know what to do with.
My grandpa is a good man. Having grown up in the depression, he's incredibly frugal, but also incredibly generous and charitable. He has always made it very clear how much he values solid education, proper grammar and a good book. A man who keeps a dictionary at his side when he reads the daily paper (picking out all the errors as he goes), he used to pay Jason and me each a dollar for every book report we wrote for him. Grandpa recorded educational programs and gave them to Mom and Dad. One of the first times he met Luke, he said "did you know Tiffany graduated Summa Cum Laude?" He was tickled pink when he found out that Luke had as well.
A smart man, and an honest man - and a man with a bit of an ornery streak. Especially in our regular battles on the cribbage board. And as we drove to St. Louis for the doctor appointments yesterday, everyone else on the road was either an imbecile or a cowboy.
Grandpa is a stellar golfer and quite the fisherman. Having worked for the IRS, his understanding of money and taxes baffles me. He keeps up the yard, and reads anything and everything. But other than his famous oatmeal, he's never cooked a day in his life and wouldn't have the slightest idea when it comes to starting the laundry - he's never had to because Grandma has always taken great care of him. Now Grandpa is slowing down a bit. His reaction time has slowed, and his memory is slowly fading. He beat himself up because he couldn't remember the name of one of his medications. When we play cribbage he has a harder time counting his points. And I'm not sure how many times he asked me yesterday how many miles I have on my tires on my car.
I love my grandparents. As I've spent more time with them recently - real, conversational, caring time - I've learned what truly fascinating lives they've led. Grandpa tells me stories of his time in the military. They talked of their first homes, and how their town is evolved, and as we drove past the local lakes, they talked of how they used to walk to the town swimming holes and spend the days there in their childhoods.
There is such a richness to these times, but it is oh so bittersweet. Grandpa is 87 and Grandma just turned 85. I can no longer crawl into their laps or hug them tightly. Grandma can hardly lift her arms and sends Grandpa out for most of the errands. She still cooks, but the basic chopping and lifting and moving around are getting increasingly harder. Many of their friends have long since passed, so much of their social time occurs during their trips to St. Louis to visit with doctors of every sort and variety. Time is at a minimal - although it feels as though it stands still when we begin to talk. And for the first time, Grandpa and I were able to talk in depth about my Jesus. How I wish I could say his Jesus. I wish and pray that Grandma and Grandpa would come to know the goodness, the love, the saving grace of Jesus Christ. I know God can move mountains, and His timing is perfect - and I pray He moves those mountains in due time.
Because time is fleeting, and I can't stand the idea of not seeing my Grandma and Grandpa pain free, worry free, praising God in eternity.
(Photo 1: Grandma at our rehearsal dinner in 2006; Photo 2: Grandma Sunday night as she tried on hats to find one to cover the spot where the doctors would shave part of her head and remove the skin cancer patch the next day - this is not the hat she chose!)
14 June 2010
Latest Prayer Letter
Sometimes kids understand things so much better than we do as adults. Read about what I mean in our latest prayer letter.
13 June 2010
A Call to Prayer
To those of you who have been following Ngankou's story on here, it's time for us to be completely honest with you. Not that we were dishonest before, but there are a few other details to the story that will better enable you to pray for him. (For those of you who didn't see the previous posts, click here.)
So the first day I Ngankou went to church with us, I asked him what he did for work. Well, it turns out his most recent work was as a warden, in a prison, where he was a prisoner. He spent seven years in Federal prison in Pennsylvania before arriving in Peoria this year. He has since been living in a sort of halfway house that is supposed to help prisoners transition back into society. There are very strict rules regarding priveleges, activities outside the house, and visitors. And apparently, when the administration there isn't happy, the rules get tougher.
Two months or so ago they were cracking down on Ngankou because he had not yet found a job. He was offered a nice position doing French to English translation for a company, but said he felt dishonest taking it and going through the training knowing it was not what he wanted to be doing long-term. So, he got in trouble because they felt he didn't want to work. Reduced priveleges meant he could no longer go to church with us, among many other things. He has now started a labor-intensive loading job, to and from which he walks an hour there and an hour back each day.
Apparently that's not enough. When we visited a few weeks ago, they were pressing on him to find his own housing. He wasn't sure where to look or what process to follow, and really didn't seem interested in finding a place to stay. Still convinced he has to atone for his sin, he thinks part of that atonement - earning grace - involves living as a homeless person for awhile. Once again, we felt God gave us the words to say to explain the free gift of grace and that there is no "degree" of sinfulness. He seems to understand it more and more, but still thinks his crime - whatever it may be - is unforgivable. When we left that day, he promised us he would pray that God would reveal Himself to him.
On our way to church today, we stopped by the halfway house to see if he might be able to join us. He is now not allowed to go anywhere other than work, and will be sent back to prison in mid-July. We don't know all the circumstances. We don't know his crime, or why exactly he's being sent back. It seems as though the inmates are given a limited amount of time to meet certain requirements, and that he has not met those requirements - but we can't be sure. We plan to visit often in the coming weeks, and if he is put in prison here, we will continue to visit him there. Our pastor plans to visit him as well. But, he needs you too.
He needs your prayers. We all need to be praying for the situation - that God will continue to work in his heart and draw Ngankou to Himself. We need to pray that God will be glorified in the whole situation and many will come to know him through this. We know God's timing and plans are perfect, but right now my heart is aching for him - with an increased urgency - and frustration at "the system."
Will you pray with us?
So the first day I Ngankou went to church with us, I asked him what he did for work. Well, it turns out his most recent work was as a warden, in a prison, where he was a prisoner. He spent seven years in Federal prison in Pennsylvania before arriving in Peoria this year. He has since been living in a sort of halfway house that is supposed to help prisoners transition back into society. There are very strict rules regarding priveleges, activities outside the house, and visitors. And apparently, when the administration there isn't happy, the rules get tougher.
Two months or so ago they were cracking down on Ngankou because he had not yet found a job. He was offered a nice position doing French to English translation for a company, but said he felt dishonest taking it and going through the training knowing it was not what he wanted to be doing long-term. So, he got in trouble because they felt he didn't want to work. Reduced priveleges meant he could no longer go to church with us, among many other things. He has now started a labor-intensive loading job, to and from which he walks an hour there and an hour back each day.
Apparently that's not enough. When we visited a few weeks ago, they were pressing on him to find his own housing. He wasn't sure where to look or what process to follow, and really didn't seem interested in finding a place to stay. Still convinced he has to atone for his sin, he thinks part of that atonement - earning grace - involves living as a homeless person for awhile. Once again, we felt God gave us the words to say to explain the free gift of grace and that there is no "degree" of sinfulness. He seems to understand it more and more, but still thinks his crime - whatever it may be - is unforgivable. When we left that day, he promised us he would pray that God would reveal Himself to him.
On our way to church today, we stopped by the halfway house to see if he might be able to join us. He is now not allowed to go anywhere other than work, and will be sent back to prison in mid-July. We don't know all the circumstances. We don't know his crime, or why exactly he's being sent back. It seems as though the inmates are given a limited amount of time to meet certain requirements, and that he has not met those requirements - but we can't be sure. We plan to visit often in the coming weeks, and if he is put in prison here, we will continue to visit him there. Our pastor plans to visit him as well. But, he needs you too.
He needs your prayers. We all need to be praying for the situation - that God will continue to work in his heart and draw Ngankou to Himself. We need to pray that God will be glorified in the whole situation and many will come to know him through this. We know God's timing and plans are perfect, but right now my heart is aching for him - with an increased urgency - and frustration at "the system."
Will you pray with us?
17 May 2010
Crashing Down
About a week and a half ago, I crashed. Hard. Both literally and emotionally. A beautiful day, I decided to skip the gym routine and head out to the Rock Island Trail for a nice, peaceful bike ride. About eight miles out I hit some ruts in the trail and the next thing I knew everything was out of control and I was tumbling - with my bike. Crash.
A moment of shock and silence, and then I saw the bloody scrapes on my forearm and felt pain in my leg, and started into one of those whimpery turns sobbing loud, completely unfeminine cries. It didn't last long because there was no one around and therefore no one to feel sorry for me. I stood up, picked up my bike, and planned to remount, finish my ride, turn around and go back.
But, my leg wasn't bending - getting stiffer - and bigger - by the second. I wasn't getting back on that bike. Not to mention the fact that the handlebars were twisted completely sideways. I called Luke and we tried to determine where I was on the trail. Having seen a farmer on a tractor in a nearby field, I hobbled to a clearing and waved him down. He helped me into his tractor, bike on the crop tiller, and took me to the road so Luke could pick me up (we live a good 15-20 minute drive from the trailhead, and I was another 8 miles out from there, so it was going to take him awhile). Then a van drove by, and seeing me sitting on the side of the road, the woman turned around and asked if I needed help. She drove me to the trailhead where I met Luke and we went to the hospital.
Gotta put in some shout-outs to God here. We praise God for my "good samaritans" along the way, and for Luke's recent promotion to full-time that provided health insurance (we went a year without!). We also praise God that after hours of waiting, X-rays showed I did not break my femur. Just deep, deep bruising of my right thigh and seriously scraped up forearms. Follow-up X-rays a few days later showed a suspected fracture in my left radius (inner-elbow), but the doc said Friday that the best way to treat both my arm and leg are to use them. That's my kind of doctor!
There's a bit of a side story here, though. Exercise to me, is a comfort. It's a piece of me - of my identity. I work out hard and push the limits. I have this whole complex about people not possibly loving me for me and actually wanting to spend time with me. I have to either help them - i.e. be "useful" (Definitely a Martha), or impress them - make them proud - have their applause. I guess exercise meets that need for me. This, human "doing" identity prevents me from having to be too vulnerable. What am I afraid of? Me. That when people know the real me - and know my heart, they'll run away and I'll be alone.
Enter Captivating, a book I just happened to have started a few days before the crash about a woman's heart. In fact, the subtitle is "Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul." The night after I wrecked, I was sitting in bed and opened to the chapter titled "Healing the Wound." Appropriate, huh? Here's an excerpt:
"Something sent its roots down deep into her (Eve's) soul - and ours - that mistrust of God's heart, that resolution to find life on our own terms. So God has to thwart her. In love, he has to block her attempts until, wounded and aching, she turns to him and him alone for her rescue.... Jesus has to thwart us too - thwart our self-redemptive plans, our controlling and our hiding, thwart the ways we are seeking to fill the ache within us. Otherwise, we would never fully turn to him for our rescue. Oh, we might turn to him for our 'salvation,' for a ticket to heaven when we die.... But inside, our hearts remain broken and captive and far from the One who can help us."
I like to stay in control. Exercise helps me do that - to control my schedule, my body, and create just enough distance to prevent vulnerability. But as you sit in a hospital unable to put weight on your leg... as you wait to hear whether or not you will have a cast on your arm... I suddenly wasn't so much in control. Am I going to balloon up and gain 100 pounds in a week? Am I going to have extra time to fill and have to face myself and my heart and maybe even what God wants to speak to my heart? Is it going to be hard? Is it going to hurt - and not physically, because that I can handle - I mean hurt inside? Can I trust you God? Do you care about my heart here? Do you care that I'm feeling very vulnerable, exposed, helpless? Do you care that I'm scared?
You thwarted my self-redemptive plan and only to You can I truly turn for comfort - for healing. Who am I to question? As Job said, "I know that You can do all things. No plan of Yours can be thwarted... You said 'Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you and you shall answer me.'" (Job 42:2,4)
Amazing how He gets our attention sometimes. I'm working on this trust thing - and allowing myself to be just a bit vulnerable... After all, I'm writing this for the world to see - letting you see just a piece of my aching heart. Granted, old habits die hard and I'm still exercising - working with pool therapy and building strength and mobility back, but that doesn't negate the lesson... and the fact that Jesus is the only Solid Rock, the only place where we can find healing and comfort. It's in His hands - not my scraped up, weak - and constantly striving ones. Is He your Solid Rock? Have you trusted Him with your heart?
"The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever." (Isaiah 40:8)
A moment of shock and silence, and then I saw the bloody scrapes on my forearm and felt pain in my leg, and started into one of those whimpery turns sobbing loud, completely unfeminine cries. It didn't last long because there was no one around and therefore no one to feel sorry for me. I stood up, picked up my bike, and planned to remount, finish my ride, turn around and go back.
But, my leg wasn't bending - getting stiffer - and bigger - by the second. I wasn't getting back on that bike. Not to mention the fact that the handlebars were twisted completely sideways. I called Luke and we tried to determine where I was on the trail. Having seen a farmer on a tractor in a nearby field, I hobbled to a clearing and waved him down. He helped me into his tractor, bike on the crop tiller, and took me to the road so Luke could pick me up (we live a good 15-20 minute drive from the trailhead, and I was another 8 miles out from there, so it was going to take him awhile). Then a van drove by, and seeing me sitting on the side of the road, the woman turned around and asked if I needed help. She drove me to the trailhead where I met Luke and we went to the hospital.
Gotta put in some shout-outs to God here. We praise God for my "good samaritans" along the way, and for Luke's recent promotion to full-time that provided health insurance (we went a year without!). We also praise God that after hours of waiting, X-rays showed I did not break my femur. Just deep, deep bruising of my right thigh and seriously scraped up forearms. Follow-up X-rays a few days later showed a suspected fracture in my left radius (inner-elbow), but the doc said Friday that the best way to treat both my arm and leg are to use them. That's my kind of doctor!
There's a bit of a side story here, though. Exercise to me, is a comfort. It's a piece of me - of my identity. I work out hard and push the limits. I have this whole complex about people not possibly loving me for me and actually wanting to spend time with me. I have to either help them - i.e. be "useful" (Definitely a Martha), or impress them - make them proud - have their applause. I guess exercise meets that need for me. This, human "doing" identity prevents me from having to be too vulnerable. What am I afraid of? Me. That when people know the real me - and know my heart, they'll run away and I'll be alone.
Enter Captivating, a book I just happened to have started a few days before the crash about a woman's heart. In fact, the subtitle is "Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul." The night after I wrecked, I was sitting in bed and opened to the chapter titled "Healing the Wound." Appropriate, huh? Here's an excerpt:
"Something sent its roots down deep into her (Eve's) soul - and ours - that mistrust of God's heart, that resolution to find life on our own terms. So God has to thwart her. In love, he has to block her attempts until, wounded and aching, she turns to him and him alone for her rescue.... Jesus has to thwart us too - thwart our self-redemptive plans, our controlling and our hiding, thwart the ways we are seeking to fill the ache within us. Otherwise, we would never fully turn to him for our rescue. Oh, we might turn to him for our 'salvation,' for a ticket to heaven when we die.... But inside, our hearts remain broken and captive and far from the One who can help us."
I like to stay in control. Exercise helps me do that - to control my schedule, my body, and create just enough distance to prevent vulnerability. But as you sit in a hospital unable to put weight on your leg... as you wait to hear whether or not you will have a cast on your arm... I suddenly wasn't so much in control. Am I going to balloon up and gain 100 pounds in a week? Am I going to have extra time to fill and have to face myself and my heart and maybe even what God wants to speak to my heart? Is it going to be hard? Is it going to hurt - and not physically, because that I can handle - I mean hurt inside? Can I trust you God? Do you care about my heart here? Do you care that I'm feeling very vulnerable, exposed, helpless? Do you care that I'm scared?
You thwarted my self-redemptive plan and only to You can I truly turn for comfort - for healing. Who am I to question? As Job said, "I know that You can do all things. No plan of Yours can be thwarted... You said 'Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you and you shall answer me.'" (Job 42:2,4)
Amazing how He gets our attention sometimes. I'm working on this trust thing - and allowing myself to be just a bit vulnerable... After all, I'm writing this for the world to see - letting you see just a piece of my aching heart. Granted, old habits die hard and I'm still exercising - working with pool therapy and building strength and mobility back, but that doesn't negate the lesson... and the fact that Jesus is the only Solid Rock, the only place where we can find healing and comfort. It's in His hands - not my scraped up, weak - and constantly striving ones. Is He your Solid Rock? Have you trusted Him with your heart?
"The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever." (Isaiah 40:8)
25 April 2010
New Ministry Video!
At our last small group meeting we were given the opportunity to present the ministry we are preparing for in Zambia. Since the other members of the group already know us, and since they have already seen our support video (check it out in the side bar), we decided to put together a new video more specific to what we will be doing in Solwezi. Check it out!
Unworthy of Grace
What makes grace so incredible amazing is that we're never truly worth of it when we receive it. We are all - each and every one of us - dead to our sins... but through God's grace, through the atoning sacrifice of His perfect son, our sin is done away with - covered with a veil of grace. Because nothing we could do could ever restore us to an unadulterated, perfect relationship with our Father, Jesus died to serve as a bridge for the giant chasm of sin that existed between us and God.
So why do we feel like we have to earn grace? Why do we feel that is even possible? That perhaps if we can improve our position before God just a bit, we might be worthy of His love.
A few weeks ago I wrote about Ngankou, our new Cameroonian friend, whose laughter can light up a room and whose deep philosophical questions can send you to your knees in prayer for the right words and the most God-honoring answers. A few days after that post, we visited our friend and spent the afternoon discussing the significance of Christ's death on the cross and the implications of that sacrifice on where we will be spending eternity. For Ngankou, he understands the Bible in a literary sense, but can't quite grasp the fact that God would find him worthy of forgiveness for sins he has committed that he views as wrethced and unforgiveable. After all, he doesn't think he is worthy of our friendship, or of the friendship and prayer of our pastor and friends at church. To think that God would pay his penalties for him - unimaginable.
But he's been coming to church. He's even met with our pastor despite a strong disbelief that the pastor wouldn't give him the time of day. He's been asking the hard questions and trying to convince us all that "we're better than him." That he has to "get to where we are." Essentially, that he's not worthy. As we dropped him off from church today, he explained that he has a lot to work on personally - or in his words, he has "atoning to do before God would even look at him."
Oh that he would understand that the atonement is done! He understands that he is unrighteous before God, but doesn't quite realize that we all were. Because of Christ's atonement our sin has been forgiven - and we are covered with a veil of grace. God created us in His image, and loves us, and wants to have perfect fellowship with us - so much that He sent His son to bring us back to Him. As I explained this - and told him that we too were wretched sinners that did not earn our way into a relationship with the Lord but were cleansed through Jesus' death and resurrection and that through that atoning sacrifice God in essence forgets our sin and views us as righteous - something changed in him. The idea made him uncomfortable. It challenged him.
And this is where we fall powerless at God's feet in prayer. Ngankou got out of the car heavy-hearted and deep in thought. We cannot force him to understand and to put his faith in Christ. The Holy Spirit has to take over where human words fall short. May Ngankou's eyes and heart be opened. May he realize that he can't earn grace or "make up" for the sins of his past, but understand that his sentence has been paid in full if he's willing to cash the check. Will you pray with us?
(These lyrics from Tenth Avenue North's song "By Your Side" ran through my head as I wrote this post, and thought I'd share:
Why are you striving these days?
Why are you still trying, to earn grace?
Why are you crying?
Let me lift up your face,
Just don't turn away.
Why are you looking, for love?
Why are you still searching,
As if I'm not enough?
To where will you go child,
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run?
And I'll be by your side,
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night,
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you.
Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life.
And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night,
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you.
Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go.
Praise God that He won't ever let us go! :) )
So why do we feel like we have to earn grace? Why do we feel that is even possible? That perhaps if we can improve our position before God just a bit, we might be worthy of His love.
A few weeks ago I wrote about Ngankou, our new Cameroonian friend, whose laughter can light up a room and whose deep philosophical questions can send you to your knees in prayer for the right words and the most God-honoring answers. A few days after that post, we visited our friend and spent the afternoon discussing the significance of Christ's death on the cross and the implications of that sacrifice on where we will be spending eternity. For Ngankou, he understands the Bible in a literary sense, but can't quite grasp the fact that God would find him worthy of forgiveness for sins he has committed that he views as wrethced and unforgiveable. After all, he doesn't think he is worthy of our friendship, or of the friendship and prayer of our pastor and friends at church. To think that God would pay his penalties for him - unimaginable.
But he's been coming to church. He's even met with our pastor despite a strong disbelief that the pastor wouldn't give him the time of day. He's been asking the hard questions and trying to convince us all that "we're better than him." That he has to "get to where we are." Essentially, that he's not worthy. As we dropped him off from church today, he explained that he has a lot to work on personally - or in his words, he has "atoning to do before God would even look at him."
Oh that he would understand that the atonement is done! He understands that he is unrighteous before God, but doesn't quite realize that we all were. Because of Christ's atonement our sin has been forgiven - and we are covered with a veil of grace. God created us in His image, and loves us, and wants to have perfect fellowship with us - so much that He sent His son to bring us back to Him. As I explained this - and told him that we too were wretched sinners that did not earn our way into a relationship with the Lord but were cleansed through Jesus' death and resurrection and that through that atoning sacrifice God in essence forgets our sin and views us as righteous - something changed in him. The idea made him uncomfortable. It challenged him.
And this is where we fall powerless at God's feet in prayer. Ngankou got out of the car heavy-hearted and deep in thought. We cannot force him to understand and to put his faith in Christ. The Holy Spirit has to take over where human words fall short. May Ngankou's eyes and heart be opened. May he realize that he can't earn grace or "make up" for the sins of his past, but understand that his sentence has been paid in full if he's willing to cash the check. Will you pray with us?
(These lyrics from Tenth Avenue North's song "By Your Side" ran through my head as I wrote this post, and thought I'd share:
Why are you striving these days?
Why are you still trying, to earn grace?
Why are you crying?
Let me lift up your face,
Just don't turn away.
Why are you looking, for love?
Why are you still searching,
As if I'm not enough?
To where will you go child,
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run?
And I'll be by your side,
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night,
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you.
Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life.
And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night,
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you.
Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go.
Praise God that He won't ever let us go! :) )
18 April 2010
April Prayer Letter
If you have not received our April prayer letter, check it out here. E-mail us or contact us via facebook if you would like to receive our updates on a regular basis. (luke.wessler@sim.org or tiffany.wessler@sim.org)
Will you consider joining our team? We know not everyone is called to GO to another country to fulfill God's mission mandate, but we are all called to be a part of it. Through your gifts, you can be the supporting body while we serve as your hands and feet in the field. Contact us today or visit www.sim.org/giveusa (Enter Wessler -23444 under missionary or project name) to sign up for monthly contributions!
30 March 2010
Give Me Your Eyes
Are you aware of the amazing things we can see and experience if we open our eyes? I mean, really open our eyes?
Last Saturday I was at an RPM (cycling) class at the gym and didn't really notice the guy who got on the bike next to me, other than noting that he kind of smelled and wishing he had gotten on a bike across the room. Kind of selfish and unloving, huh? But isn't that how we tend to operate? Focused on the task at hand and only noticing others when they inconvenience us? I know I am often guilty of this... frustrated with the wait in the grocery line instead of reaching out to the person at the front who is sorting through food stamps and deciding which items are essential and which she can't buy this time; annoyed by the crying child and blind to the tired tears in the mother's eye... this "all about me" attitude.
But I also know I've been blessed in indescribable ways when I've opened my eyes. God has shown me such amazing love and grace when I've looked through His eyes. He has put people in my life that have taught me so much about His love and living for His glory.
Okay, so back to the story... at the end of the RPM class, I looked over, and opened my eyes. The gentleman was clearly African. After worshipping in an all African church for three years in Dallas and planning for ministry in Zambia, you learn to recognize someone who is native to Africa. Excited because we've missed the fellowship of our African brothers and sisters, and because we are starting our language acquisition training and need to work with people whose native language is not English, I started to talk to him. He is from Cameroon and I learned that his brother-in-law in Springfield is actually from the region of Zambia where we will be serving. God is good! But that was just the beginning. I invited my new friend to church with us and picked him up in front of the gym the next morning.
It just happened to be the Sunday where Luke was preaching, so we met him there. On the way, Ngankou asked me if it would change anything - if he would be allowed to come - if I knew he wasn't a Christian. Is that the perception unbelievers have of the church? I pray that is not the case! After all, what would be the purpose of church if we weren't focused on sharing the amazing Gift of salvation we've been given with those who don't know of the saving Grace of Jesus Christ? Without focusing on sharing the Good News, the church becomes one more place where we focus on our own needs - getting the task done and feeling good about ourselves for doing it.
So we went, and he was welcomed so warmly, and said he felt Luke was speaking directly to him. We sang blessed assurance and he copied down the words. He took notes. And he wants to come back. Luke drove him home and they shared tea and talked about life. We have a friend, and our friend is showing interest in knowing Jesus. What a blessing to be a part of that!!! And all I had to do was look through God's eyes for just a moment.
I hope Ngankou comes to the gym again this week - and I hope he chooses the bike next to me. And it will bless my socks off if he is able to join us for church on Easter Sunday. Because Jesus didn't die on the cross so I could take my salvation, smile, and tuck it away in a box for safe-keeping and show up to church on Easter Sunday in a pretty new dress. No, God sent His son to come, die as an atoning sacrifice for our sins, and then rise from the dead so that people from every tribe, tongue, people and nation would be reconciled to Him and worship Him in eternity. And He blesses us by giving us the opportunity to be a part of that!
Last Saturday I was at an RPM (cycling) class at the gym and didn't really notice the guy who got on the bike next to me, other than noting that he kind of smelled and wishing he had gotten on a bike across the room. Kind of selfish and unloving, huh? But isn't that how we tend to operate? Focused on the task at hand and only noticing others when they inconvenience us? I know I am often guilty of this... frustrated with the wait in the grocery line instead of reaching out to the person at the front who is sorting through food stamps and deciding which items are essential and which she can't buy this time; annoyed by the crying child and blind to the tired tears in the mother's eye... this "all about me" attitude.
But I also know I've been blessed in indescribable ways when I've opened my eyes. God has shown me such amazing love and grace when I've looked through His eyes. He has put people in my life that have taught me so much about His love and living for His glory.
Okay, so back to the story... at the end of the RPM class, I looked over, and opened my eyes. The gentleman was clearly African. After worshipping in an all African church for three years in Dallas and planning for ministry in Zambia, you learn to recognize someone who is native to Africa. Excited because we've missed the fellowship of our African brothers and sisters, and because we are starting our language acquisition training and need to work with people whose native language is not English, I started to talk to him. He is from Cameroon and I learned that his brother-in-law in Springfield is actually from the region of Zambia where we will be serving. God is good! But that was just the beginning. I invited my new friend to church with us and picked him up in front of the gym the next morning.
It just happened to be the Sunday where Luke was preaching, so we met him there. On the way, Ngankou asked me if it would change anything - if he would be allowed to come - if I knew he wasn't a Christian. Is that the perception unbelievers have of the church? I pray that is not the case! After all, what would be the purpose of church if we weren't focused on sharing the amazing Gift of salvation we've been given with those who don't know of the saving Grace of Jesus Christ? Without focusing on sharing the Good News, the church becomes one more place where we focus on our own needs - getting the task done and feeling good about ourselves for doing it.
So we went, and he was welcomed so warmly, and said he felt Luke was speaking directly to him. We sang blessed assurance and he copied down the words. He took notes. And he wants to come back. Luke drove him home and they shared tea and talked about life. We have a friend, and our friend is showing interest in knowing Jesus. What a blessing to be a part of that!!! And all I had to do was look through God's eyes for just a moment.
I hope Ngankou comes to the gym again this week - and I hope he chooses the bike next to me. And it will bless my socks off if he is able to join us for church on Easter Sunday. Because Jesus didn't die on the cross so I could take my salvation, smile, and tuck it away in a box for safe-keeping and show up to church on Easter Sunday in a pretty new dress. No, God sent His son to come, die as an atoning sacrifice for our sins, and then rise from the dead so that people from every tribe, tongue, people and nation would be reconciled to Him and worship Him in eternity. And He blesses us by giving us the opportunity to be a part of that!
24 February 2010
Back to Dallas... for a weekend
There are till more entries to come in the "Series of Goodbyes" series, but those will have to wait. Tiffany and I will be traveling to Dallas from Thursday, February 25 through Tuesday, March 2. Please pray for us during this time, as we will be meeting with a number of individuals and groups, catching up on life, sharing our ministry, and inviting people to join our team.
And we are super excited to see all of our friends down there, too.
And we are super excited to see all of our friends down there, too.
22 February 2010
A Series of Goodbyes, Part 2 - The Forgotten Friend
It's been more than two years, but I never got to say goodbye. Come to think of it, I never even got that dance that I promised her.
Blythe O'Sullivan and I met in college. She was a little on the crazy side, and I was struggling with finding myself. Though I had spent my whole life believing in Christ as my Savior, I didn't always live a life that reflected this belief. By the end of my freshman year of college, I had wandered away from the fold, and in doing so I had lost many who I thought to be my friends. When I turned away from following God, I felt alone and abandoned by the ones who I thought would always be there for me - the church. It was in this loneliness that Blythe and I became friends. She loved me regardless of what I was dealing with. Our friendship was strong, and getting to know her helped me through some tough times in my life.
Two things needed to be said here. One, we never dated, nor were there any romantic ties between us. We simply enjoyed each other's company and spent many, many hours hanging out together. Two, though her friendship was a great encouragement to me, as she loved me when I felt that nobody else did, this friendship was not necessarily a healthy one. We partied hard, and we partied often. She encouraged me to do things I never thought I would do, things that I knew did not honor the God I claimed to serve. Though I understood that she loved me, I grew increasingly more depressed during this time. Something was missing.
As my sophomore year of college was wrapping up, I heard the voice of God calling me back into His loving arms. When I thought that I was too far out of reach, God pulled me close. I renewed my commitment to Him, and He has brought me to where I am today. As I recommitted my life to Him, I had to make some very difficult decisions. One of these decisions was to cut myself off from all those who were drawing me back into the sinful lifestyle that I was recently pulled out of. This meant that I had to end my friendship with Blythe. I always hoped this would be a temporary end, and that someday, when I was stronger in my faith and more secure in myself, we could rebuild this friendship... that maybe she would come to know that Savior that I love so dearly.
Four years passed. I had gotten married, and Tiffany and I were living in Dallas. I had neither seen nor heard from Blythe during this time. It was only at a wedding in Peoria that we were able to briefly reconnect. We hugged for what seemed like forever, talking about where we were and what we were doing. She was serving with the Peace Corps in Suriname, South America. She had come back specifically for the wedding, and she was preparing to leave again after the weekend. She asked if I would dance with her when the music started later. I said I would.
Then, my ride decided it was time to leave.
We never got that dance.
Blythe died a few months later. She was working on the farm in Suriname when she triggered a gun trap that shot her through the leg. She severed her femoral artery and bled out. It was early December, 2007, and I still wonder why I didn't insist on staying to get that dance. I pray that somebody was able to share the Gospel with her before she died, as I failed in this opportunity. And it still hurts, because I never even got to say goodbye.
So goodbye, Blythe. You meant more to me than I ever let you know, and I am sorry for the way I let you down. I'm sorry for never telling you about what Christ did for me, and for what He did for you. I'm sorry for hurting you and for never talking to you for all those years. I'm sorry for leaving without dancing with you. And I'm sorry for never getting to say goodbye.
Two things needed to be said here. One, we never dated, nor were there any romantic ties between us. We simply enjoyed each other's company and spent many, many hours hanging out together. Two, though her friendship was a great encouragement to me, as she loved me when I felt that nobody else did, this friendship was not necessarily a healthy one. We partied hard, and we partied often. She encouraged me to do things I never thought I would do, things that I knew did not honor the God I claimed to serve. Though I understood that she loved me, I grew increasingly more depressed during this time. Something was missing.
As my sophomore year of college was wrapping up, I heard the voice of God calling me back into His loving arms. When I thought that I was too far out of reach, God pulled me close. I renewed my commitment to Him, and He has brought me to where I am today. As I recommitted my life to Him, I had to make some very difficult decisions. One of these decisions was to cut myself off from all those who were drawing me back into the sinful lifestyle that I was recently pulled out of. This meant that I had to end my friendship with Blythe. I always hoped this would be a temporary end, and that someday, when I was stronger in my faith and more secure in myself, we could rebuild this friendship... that maybe she would come to know that Savior that I love so dearly.
Four years passed. I had gotten married, and Tiffany and I were living in Dallas. I had neither seen nor heard from Blythe during this time. It was only at a wedding in Peoria that we were able to briefly reconnect. We hugged for what seemed like forever, talking about where we were and what we were doing. She was serving with the Peace Corps in Suriname, South America. She had come back specifically for the wedding, and she was preparing to leave again after the weekend. She asked if I would dance with her when the music started later. I said I would.
Then, my ride decided it was time to leave.
We never got that dance.
Blythe died a few months later. She was working on the farm in Suriname when she triggered a gun trap that shot her through the leg. She severed her femoral artery and bled out. It was early December, 2007, and I still wonder why I didn't insist on staying to get that dance. I pray that somebody was able to share the Gospel with her before she died, as I failed in this opportunity. And it still hurts, because I never even got to say goodbye.
So goodbye, Blythe. You meant more to me than I ever let you know, and I am sorry for the way I let you down. I'm sorry for never telling you about what Christ did for me, and for what He did for you. I'm sorry for hurting you and for never talking to you for all those years. I'm sorry for leaving without dancing with you. And I'm sorry for never getting to say goodbye.
21 February 2010
February 2010 Prayer Letter
Here's our most recent letter. If you didn't get it via e-mail or snail mail, we don't have your contact info...
20 February 2010
A Series of Goodbyes, Part 1 - The Missed Opportunity
A good person died just a couple months ago - Christmas eve, actually. I could have written this then, but the at the time I didn't know what to say. Little would I know that this would be the first in a series of goodbyes that have affected me more than I realized they ever would.
David Myers was home from school to celebrate Christmas with his family. It was early in the morning, around 2, and the wet weather and freezing temperatures had made the roads slick. I don't know many of the details, but I do know that he was in his own neighborhood when his car left the road and struck a tree. He was wearing his seatbelt, but the impact was too much and he died. He was 21.
When I found out, I didn't know how to react. I didn't know David that well, but I had gotten to know him over the course of a few months when I was helping him get back into diving after he had taken some time off due to some serious injuries. The fall of his senior year of high school I coached him off and on for a month or two, encouraging him to stick with it and make the most of his senior year. He had so much talent, but had severely injured his back, making diving painful for him. Yet he loved what he did, so he fought through it.
At the time I worked with him David was already taking college level science courses, as he was preparing to go to college to study Pre-Med, I assume to someday be a doctor. I had heard that he did at one point have a wilder side to him, but he had calmed down and was beginning to take life more seriously. I didn't pry into his business, but rather tried to remain a positive example for him as I encouraged him to improve as an athlete. In all this, however, I never sought the opportunity to share my faith with him. He and the rest of his family were aware of my goal of getting into the mission field, and, being Catholic, they understood. Yet I never talked with David about his faith, about what he believed.
I missed the opportunity to share with him what really matters. And now I will never have that chance.
For several weeks I beat myself up about this as I continued to wrap my head around the fact that he was gone. I pray that he heard the Gospel from somebody else, as he had not heard it from me. In this grief, however, I am reminded of the urgency to share the Good News of Christ with anybody and everybody I can, for we never know when it may be over.
So goodbye, David. I'm sorry I let you down. I pray that lives may be changed forever by your life and death, and by the revived sense of urgency for sharing the Gospel that I now have. You were a good person, David, and there were many who cared about you, including some of us who never told you, and it was only in your death that we realized we missed that chance.
David Myers was home from school to celebrate Christmas with his family. It was early in the morning, around 2, and the wet weather and freezing temperatures had made the roads slick. I don't know many of the details, but I do know that he was in his own neighborhood when his car left the road and struck a tree. He was wearing his seatbelt, but the impact was too much and he died. He was 21.
When I found out, I didn't know how to react. I didn't know David that well, but I had gotten to know him over the course of a few months when I was helping him get back into diving after he had taken some time off due to some serious injuries. The fall of his senior year of high school I coached him off and on for a month or two, encouraging him to stick with it and make the most of his senior year. He had so much talent, but had severely injured his back, making diving painful for him. Yet he loved what he did, so he fought through it.
At the time I worked with him David was already taking college level science courses, as he was preparing to go to college to study Pre-Med, I assume to someday be a doctor. I had heard that he did at one point have a wilder side to him, but he had calmed down and was beginning to take life more seriously. I didn't pry into his business, but rather tried to remain a positive example for him as I encouraged him to improve as an athlete. In all this, however, I never sought the opportunity to share my faith with him. He and the rest of his family were aware of my goal of getting into the mission field, and, being Catholic, they understood. Yet I never talked with David about his faith, about what he believed.
I missed the opportunity to share with him what really matters. And now I will never have that chance.
For several weeks I beat myself up about this as I continued to wrap my head around the fact that he was gone. I pray that he heard the Gospel from somebody else, as he had not heard it from me. In this grief, however, I am reminded of the urgency to share the Good News of Christ with anybody and everybody I can, for we never know when it may be over.
So goodbye, David. I'm sorry I let you down. I pray that lives may be changed forever by your life and death, and by the revived sense of urgency for sharing the Gospel that I now have. You were a good person, David, and there were many who cared about you, including some of us who never told you, and it was only in your death that we realized we missed that chance.
24 January 2010
Happy (belated!) New Year!
Um, it's 2010? When did that happen?
New Year's Resolutions...
1) Get to Zambia this year. That's a big one.
2) Update the blog more than once per month. Not as big as number 1, but still, kinda important.
3) Update the website so that it's not quite so, um, blah. Or at least convince people that it's not blah as it is.
4) Stop making lists. They get depressing when I don't get things done.
Hopefully this week I'll be able to make good on at least number 2, if not 2 and 3.
New Year's Resolutions...
1) Get to Zambia this year. That's a big one.
2) Update the blog more than once per month. Not as big as number 1, but still, kinda important.
3) Update the website so that it's not quite so, um, blah. Or at least convince people that it's not blah as it is.
4) Stop making lists. They get depressing when I don't get things done.
Hopefully this week I'll be able to make good on at least number 2, if not 2 and 3.
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