Learning to kiss my to-do list goodbye...

Maybe the day’s unexpected phone calls and emails are the result of routinely inviting God to take charge of my schedule. For example, I thought I’d finish preparations for an upcoming women’s retreat and then write my September newsletter. Instead, I ended up meeting a senior couple for coffee and a discussion about missions in Eastern Europe. I also enjoyed phone conversations with two women who are in the midst of major transitions. Interestingly, both of these gals are online friends with whom I’ve had no personal contact until now.  Their faith in the face of the unknown inspired and blessed me.

The clock refuses to stand still, and my to-do list refuses to go away. Rather, it grows by the hour. I could stress, but where’s the benefit in that? I think I’ll choose to trust God instead—to believe that He has His own ideas about what my to-do list should look like. When I invite Him into my day, He’ll enable me to accomplish what needs to be done and give me the grace to let go of what remains.

Job got it right when he said, “For the life of every living thing is in his hand, and the breath of every human being” (Job 12:10). My day is in God’s hands, and I’m learning to be still and rest in that truth.

How about you, my friend? How has your day been so far? What lesson have you been learning?

Photo courtesy: http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-photo-diary-planner-rimagefree2341376-resi3440358

When we go on extended missions trips, we sleep in a dozen or more different beds. We rise early to attend staff prayer meetings or to catch trains to the next destination. We fall into bed late because of crazy-busy schedules.  Every hour between rising and sleeping is spent trying to communicate with people who speak a different language or ensuring that all is well with our programs and the people involved.

Mealtimes are sketchy at best when we travel by train or bus. We also routinely eat different foods than we’re accustomed to. Personally, I don’t eat a lot of wheat products because my body can’t digest them properly. Potatoes are a no-no, too, as are tomatoes. All of these are staples in Eastern Europe, so I either try to avoid them or look for alternatives. When that’s not possible, I eat knowing that I’ll take a hit eventually.

Regular exercise routines are practically non-existent due to time restraints and cultural sensitivities. Granted, we’re constantly walking stairs, but that’s not the same as a good ol’ workout in the gym.

Lack of proper rest, diet, and exercise for an extended period have left me feeling stiff and achy this week, and so I’m doing something about it. I’m ensuring a good sleep at night, eliminating foods that cause me discomfort, and returning to the gym for my early morning exercises. I know these activities will benefit my body and boost my energy levels.

This morning I read 1 Corinthians 6:13-20—“(Our bodies) were made for the Lord, and the Lord cares about our bodies…Honor God with your body.” These verses challenged me to treat my body with respect. After all, if God cares about my physical health, I should, too.

Thankfully our overseas travels last only a few weeks at a time. Even though it’s difficult, I must do my best to care for myself there. When I’m home, I have more control and consistency. It’s my “revamp” time to get my body back on track in an attempt to safeguard my health.

How about you? What challenges do you face in regards to honoring your body? Do you have a regular exercise routine? Special dietary needs? We’d love to hear how you stay healthy.

Photo courtesy: http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-photo-sleeping-cat-rimagefree2266848-resi3440358

“Yes,” my husband answered. (We’d sensed a change coming for two years already but had committed to waiting for clear direction from God before stepping out on our own).

“Then you might be interested in what I have to say,” our friend said. He explained that a U.S. based ministry called International Messengers wanted to expand into Canada and needed a director. “The job description fits you and Grace,” he said. “May I give IM your names?” And so began our adventure into the realm of the impossible.

As dialogue began with IM, we asked ourselves questions such as, “Will this ministry come with an income, or will we have to continue living on faith support? Where should we set up our headquarters? Will we find a house within our price range? What will become of our youngest daughter if she chooses not to move with us? What if we try to mobilize Canadian believers to get involved in short term missions but no one buys into it? What if we’re too old to handle the overseas travel well? What if we’re not really cut out for this? We’ve never ministered in Eastern Europe; what if we step out in faith and fall flat on our faces?”

Our questions focused on three areas—manpower, know-how, and finances. These were justifiable concerns, and I believe we were wise to ask them. However, we couldn’t allow the lack of obvious answers to hinder us from doing what God was telling us to do. The foremost question we had to ask was, “Is God speaking?” We believed the answer was yes, and that meant trusting Him for the details.

Was that easy? Heavens, no. We prayed a lot, asking God to provide for those three areas of need, and He answered. He showed us where to move and provided us with a townhouse in our price range. When our daughter decided to stay put rather than move with us, He taught me to trust her well-being to His care. He’s continually given us the energy needed for overseas travel and ministry. He’s provided financial support, and He’s drawn enthusiastic volunteers to fill our short term ministry needs each summer.

The first summer we had 14 Canadian volunteers work in Poland and Slovakia. The next summer, 19 volunteers went to three countries—Poland, Romania, and the Ukraine. And last summer, we grew to 34 volunteers who worked in four countries—Poland, Romania, the Ukraine, and Slovakia. Then our church offered us an office rent-free, which enabled us to move the IM Canada office out of our basement. To top it off, the Lord provided us with an administrative assistant.

Summer 2011 -- with team members and Polish friends

Four years ago at this time, we were asking all the questions I listed above. If we’d allowed fear to reign and said no to God’s call because it appeared impossible, we would have missed this opportunity to experience Him in new ways. Saying yes, however, meant tackling the impossible in His strength.

How about you? How has God enabled you to tackle an impossible situation?

Passengers come and go on these trains. For several miles, two men in their 60s sat on the bench across from us. Theirs was an animated conversation until one turned his attention to me and began jabbering in Polish. His eyebrows shot up when I told him that I couldn’t understand because I spoke only English. He moved closer, grabbed my hand and kissed it.

I was okay with this display of Polish culture but squirmed inside when he began to squeeze my hand and pat my arm with his other hand. Then he leaned toward my face. All of this happened within a few seconds. A teenage boy in the next seat began translating what the man was saying, at which time Gene stood up and asked the man to back off.

The man responded by speaking louder and squeezing tighter. Gene repeated his request. The man turned up his volume and now leaned towards my husband. Visions of his punching Gene popped into my head. I shot up an arrow prayer for help.

At that exact moment, the conductor stepped into our train car. Understand that conductors routinely walk through the cars to ensure that all passengers have purchased tickets and aren’t freeloading. This conductor hadn’t set foot in this car for the past hour despite the train making numerous stops and collecting passengers along the way. His sudden appearance at that exact moment was nothing short of an immediate answer to prayer.

Without speaking a word, the conductor sized up the situation and took control. He pulled the man away from me and kicked him off the train when it stopped a few moments later. Everyone in the car heaved a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry,” said the conductor as he walked way.

“No problem,” I said, whispering a big thank-you to God under my breath. He showed up as my protector in the form of a train conductor – how awesome is that? While it was quite amazing to see Him answer prayer so quickly, I truly hope He won’t have to do it again!

Halfway through the weekend, one of the attendees asked me to join her and the senior lady for tea. I obliged. To my amazement, the elderly lady opened up and began sharing stories from her past. She’d survived years in a concentration camp! She told of hiding pages of the Bible in the barracks where she lived as a teenager, and of coming to know Christ as her Savior in that prison.

I listened, captured by her clarity and depth, and sorry for the way I’d misjudged her. My perception was completely wrong, based on nothing more than an initial impression.

Joseph’s brothers were guilty of doing something similar. When their father died, they expected the worst from Joseph. Genesis 50 says they became fearful: “Now Joseph will show his anger and pay us back for all the wrong we did to him,” they said (v. 15).

In reality, Joseph had shown only kindness to them and their families. He’d provided food and resettled them in a place of abundance. He’d given no reason for them to think he’d seek revenge, but their imaginations told them otherwise. Their perception of Joseph was all wrong, based on their own guilt for betraying him years prior.

The human nature is complicated, isn’t it? We form opinions about other people based on false impressions. We judge their character based on wrong information. We mistakenly presume based on our own issues. When we do such things, we lose out.

Thankfully my experience with the Eastern European lady taught me a valuable lesson, and I have a hunch that Joseph’s brothers learned a thing or two when he proved their fears unfounded. My desire is to see people as God sees them, not as through my defective lens. I want to think the best rather than assume the worst. By God’s grace, He’ll enable me to do that so I don’t miss out on the blessing that comes from building relationships with others.

Have you ever formed a wrong opinion of someone? If so, how was that opinion proved wrong?

In Eastern Europe I see women clothed in black, too. These are senior villagers – stooped, wrinkled, and worn.

A senior Romanian lady with whom I did a craft. Isn't she a sweetie?

In Communist days no one wanted to draw attention to themselves, and these women behave the same way today, avoiding eye contact with others when walking down the street. What atrocities have they endured? And how do they survive on a daily basis when they have next to nothing to eat and often no electricity or indoor plumbing? In stark contrast, young women in the same countries are attending college and preparing for a career. Wearing skin-tight jeans or flowing skirts and stylish high heels, they strut down cobblestone streets while chatting on their cell phones.

Scripture talks about a woman named Sheerah. We don’t know what she looked like, but we know what she did. “Ephraim had a daughter named Sheerah. She built the towns of Lower and Upper Beth-horon and Uzzen-sheerah” (1 Chronicles 7:24). I’m in the back of a van riding through Hungary as I write this, so I don’t have study materials at my fingertips to explore this more. However, based on what we know about the culture of that day, Sheerah must have been an extraordinary woman, a leader, a motivator. She had a vision and knew how to fulfill it. She was a team player, able to work with others to accomplish a purpose. What a gal! I wonder how others accepted her and her giftedness. No doubt some followed her leadership; others probably tsk-tsked and criticized her efforts and passion.

Yes, women make for an interesting study. Some are ruled by fear and anxiety. Others rise to seize challenges before them. Some are overcomers – they have to be because they live in abuse or poverty worse than anyone can imagine. Some are creative geniuses. Others are gifted teachers, administrators, caregivers, nurturers, behind-the-scenes servants, artisans.

The differences are many, but they all share one common factor: God loves them and has gifted them to fulfill His purpose for their lives. How exciting is that? May we rise to the call even if means swimming upstream sometimes. And may we be faithful to help those younger, those coming behind us to do the same.

One of my favorite photos from our trip to India.

Each day we enjoyed two worship services. The music – led by a band of five young men – moved my heart to focus on Jesus Christ. And seeing these musicians – an American fellow who came to Poland especially to serve the missionaries in this way for the weekend, three IM teenagers, and a Romanian fellow who’s interning with IM in Ukraine (whose smile lit up the room as he sang and played the keyboard) – thrilled me beyond words. These fellows represent the next generation of spiritual leaders. God bless them as they use their gifts for Him here, and as they begin stepping forward to pursue career ministry in Eastern Europe.

One song contained a phrase that has taken on new meaning for me: “You are the Lord, the famous one, the famous one. Great is Your name in all the earth.” Indeed, my role as writer, speaker, and missionary, is to help make Jesus famous throughout the earth. The instant my attention or motives point toward me rather than Jesus, the ministry loses focus and effectiveness.

The daily messages reinforced the lessons I’ve been learning lately and also gave me new material to think about. I think my favorite was the one about Christ’s humility as illustrated in Philippians 2. Imagine – Jesus Christ existed in the form of God but didn’t regard equality with God a thing to be grasped. Instead, He emptied Himself and became a servant, even to the point of death on a cross. That thought boggles my mind. It’s the opposite of what society teaches – to stand up for our rights and demand what we deserve. Where is that attitude condoned in God’s Word? Nowhere, I’m afraid. Rather, as Christ’s followers, we’re to empty ourselves and serve others sacrificially.

At the end of the last session, silence fell across the room – a holy, awe-inspired quiet. God’s presence felt tangible, and no one dared move or speak for what seemed forever. Then one person prayed. A second person followed, and then a third. Someone led in a worship song, and then another. Words cannot justly describe the reverence in that place. Oh, I long for my brothers and sisters in Christ to experience the same in North America. Sadly, I think we’re too often controlled by the clock, or by fear of what might happen if we let the Holy Spirit take over our meetings. “God, bring revival to our hearts!”

The music and messages filled my spiritual tank, and fellowship with other IM women filled my emotional tank. I was blessed to have the opportunity to speak at a special session just for them. I based my message on Hebrews 12:12,13 which refer to taking a new grip with tired hands and strengthening shaky legs so those behind us who are weak and lame will not stumble and fall but be strengthened. Darlis Anderson then gave each woman a bookmark with the theme verse, and a package of Mary Kay skin products donated by a generous friend in the U.S.

These missionary gals are truly amazing. Some are North Americans who have been in Eastern Europe for many years. They’ve borne their children there and are fluent in the language, well-adapted to the challenges of cross-cultural living. Others are North American empty-nesters who have recently sold their possessions, said goodbye to kids and grandkids, and followed God’s call to pursue career ministry here. We have single gals of all ages – early 20s through 70s. Several IMers are North Americans married to Eastern European men. And about half are Eastern Europeans, born and raised here. What a glorious mix! Together, we’re sisters in Christ, and we have much to learn from each other.

Kosice, here we come!

Somewhere in Poland, taken from the train window. Brrr! It was cold outside!

Riding the trains in Eastern Europe is an adventure. Here are a couple of things we’ve encountered:

• Most people believe that a draft will make them sick. As a result, windows and doors in the train berths are rarely opened for air circulation. Berths can become stifling hot, but opening a window to get fresh air is not looked upon favorably. Last summer when I traveled in the heat, I gave it an honest try – I was sitting next to the window, so I reached up and opened it about 6 inches. An elderly woman eyed me with contempt and then stood to her feet, stepped to the window, and promptly closed it. I thought I’d die of suffocation before reaching my destination. That was like a “don’t try this at home weight loss program” – sweat off a few pounds in transit! Thankfully, today’s trip was totally comfortable. Gene and I enjoyed a berth to ourselves for the first 5 ½ hour leg of our journey, and this train’s engineers seemed to have mastered the art of regulating the heat in the berths.
• Switching trains adds stress to one’s journey. Maybe that’s because we don’t understand the languages spoken here, so we can’t decipher the arrival/departure announcements over the loudspeakers. Or maybe it’s because the station masters wait until the last moment before they post the appropriate platform number on the departure board – or they post a number and then change it as the train pulls in. Perhaps it’s because there may be only 10 minutes between our train’s arrival and our next train’s departure. We have to hope that the arriving train is running on time, get off with all our luggage, find a departure board, hope that the next train’s platform number has been listed correctly, and then run for it!

 Today’s switch was stressful. Thankfully our arriving train was on time. We climbed off with luggage and backpacks in tow, walked across the tracks and climbed onto the covered platform. That’s when we discovered that our connecting train’s platform number wasn’t listed on the departure board outside. So then we wondered, Is it not listed because our next train hasn’t arrived yet? Or is it not listed simply because the station master hasn’t updated it recently? Or is it not listed because this departure board isn’t working properly? Gene walked into the station to see if he could find more information, but no such luck.

In the meantime, I asked a uniformed man if he spoke English. He shook his head. Time was ticking, so I tried to communicate anyway. “Kosice?” I asked. He held up one thumb and forefinger and said, “One, two.” Then he pointed down a nearby stairwell and to the right. He repeated his hand gestures for emphasis and then walked away. Ah, I thought. Perhaps our next train leaves from platform 2. Or… maybe he didn’t understand what I asked, and whatever he said bears no relevance whatsoever to my question.

A moment later, a man’s voice made a lengthy announcement over the loudspeaker. A crowd of 50 or 60 people pushed through the station’s exit and headed down the stairwell. I caught the word “Kosice” in the announcement and figured they were all bound for our destination, or to one of the stops along the way. But I was guarding our luggage, and Gene was nowhere in sight, so I had no choice but to stay put and hope that, if those folks were heading to our train, we would join them in time to catch it, too.

It felt like eternity until Gene returned. We grabbed our luggage and headed the direction that the crowd had taken – down a long flight of stairs, through an underground tunnel, and up another flight of stairs to a platform between tracks. But there was no train. And still no number listed on the departure board. And that 10 minute window between our arrival and departure was now down to mere seconds. Were we in the right place or not? If we missed our connection, we’d have to spend the night in that town and find our way to Kosice on Wednesday, and that wouldn’t work well with our hostess’ busy schedule.

We must have looked like lost foreigners, for suddenly a young man came from nowhere and spoke to us with a heavy Eastern European accent but in perfect English: “May I help you?” I wanted to hug him!

“Can you please tell us the correct platform for the train to Kosice?” I asked.

“Number 2. This is it.” He smiled reassuringly. An angel, I’m sure.

Seconds later, the train roared into the station. Our reservations were for Car #3. We watched helplessly as Car #3 ripped past us and then stopped ‘way down the platform. My oh my, it was a long run. My backpack weighs at least 20 pounds, and I was hauling two suitcases – the handheld one weighs about 25 pounds and the wheeled one weighs about 45 pounds. By the time I got to Car #4, I couldn’t go another step. My lungs felt like they were going to burst from breathing the frigid air.

“Keep going,” called Gene, also on the run. “Our car’s the next one.”

Forgive me for sounding unspiritual at this point. At the threat of collapsing beside the train and thereby missing our ride, I opened my mouth and out spilled the words: “Just get on the stinkin’ train!” I’ve never seen my husband move so fast.

Car #4 was the dining room. Imagine us hauling our suitcases between the linen-draped tables, trying to keep our balance as the train rocked and rolled and picked up speed. Boy, was I relieved to fall into our seats when we finally reached Car #3. And so began the next leg of our journey to Kosice, Slovakia. Another 4 hours lay ahead. My computer battery died enroute, so this turned into a welcome time of relaxation and rest.

Sweet dreams in the Vienna airport

Journal entry for Tuesday, February 3, 2009

After catching a couple hours of sleep last night, we boarded a flight from Vancouver to Toronto to Vienna (for yet another infamous 5-hour layover), and finally to Kosice, Slovakia. I must have been more tired than I realized in Vienna, for I stretched out on a padded bench in a public waiting room and promptly fell asleep for an hour. That’s the first time in my life I’ve slept in transit!

One of our IM missionary couples met us at the airport and delivered us to the apartment where we stayed with an IM single gal. A quick shower and a short nap refreshed us before joining yet another IM couple for dinner at an authentic Slovakian restaurant.

Ordering from menus is much different there than in Canada. Over there, one page might contain the meat dishes. A second page might contain vegetables, salads or potatoes cooked in various ways. You decide what items you want and then you order each one separately. They arrive on one plate.

Sometimes the menus are written in Slovakian only, sometimes they contain an English translation. Even if they’re translated, they might not mean what you think they mean. I ordered a chicken breast from one page, and then “rice and vegetables” from another. I thought I’d receive chicken plus a single serving of cooked rice and a cooked vegetable – the day’s special, perhaps. I received a chicken breast grilled to perfection and four ice-cream scoop-sized servings of white rice mixed with cooked peas and carrots.

We had a great time visiting with this IM couple – Brad and Karla Thiessen. They have an amazing work happening with the Roma people (Gypsies) in Kosice, teaching woodworking skills to the men and sewing to the women. Besides that, Karla leads a weekly women’s Bible study and Brad has a language school that offers tutoring for more than 30 languages. They’ve worked here for about 17 years. I recently wrote an article about them for Power for Living – I’ll post the text on my new website under the link to “International Messengers” after it appears in the paper on March 22.