Give Lottie some love!

As we approach Chirstmas, I want to take a few minutes to remind people of something that, honestly, I didn't really think about until I came on staff with the IMB.  Growing up, Christmas season was Lottie Moon season.  My church growing up was all about Lottie, and put a strong emphasis on the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering.  Over the past several years, it seems like Lottie has been a little forgotten (maybe that's just my perspective).  

Lottie Moon is an encouraging example of what it means to be a "living sacrifice".  She was one of the first single women to enter the mission field; for 37 years this pioneer endured hardship and danger in a land oppressed by famine, disease, and war.  In the end, she loved the Chinese people more than life itself, giving her own food to starving neighbors, eventually dying of starvation herself.  During her career, Lottie wrote numerous letters home encouraging Southern Baptists to greater missions involvement and support.  In one of her letters, she wrote, "How many there are who imagine that because Jesus paid it all, they need pay nothing, forgetting that the prime object of their salvation was that they should follow in the footsteps of Jesus Christ in bringing back a lost world to God."

Over the past couple of months, I have come to understand just how important the Lottie Moon Offering really is.  LMCO accounts for over half of the IMB's annual operating budget, and every penny goes directly to the field.  Even if you're not "Southern Baptist," let me encourage you to look into Lottie as a way of financially supporting the spread of the Gospel.  Thank you for your continued partnership as we work to bring the Lugbara people to faith in our Lord and Savior.  

Faith like a child

Every now and then, it becomes very clear what the phrase "faith like a child" really means.  Last night our cultural worship focus was South Asia (a region made up of 7 countries around India, for those of you who don't speak IMBese!).  One of the components was corporate prayer in a way I had never seen before.  As people shared their prayer requests, members of the congregation would gather around them at the front of the meeting room and pray with them then and there.  What stood out more than anything was our little girls.  When one of them would share a request, they could barely get it all out before the rest of the girls would literally run to them to join them in prayer.  How often do I really run to people to pray for them?  And when I do pray for them, do I really believe that God is going to move in a mighty way?  God, give me the faith to join my friends in prayer the way these children do!

Shootout at Red Robin

Last week was, without question, the most stressful week we've had.  We had three days of meeting with our regional leadership (Central, Eastern, and Southern Africa for me), which was mostly long days of meetings... lots of presentations, lots of listening, very little moving around.  (Until that point in the afternoon when everyone gets antsy and tired of sitting still and starts shifting in their chairs every 30 seconds!)  Suffice it to say that they were 3 very long days.

On Thursday, we started 3 days of Contingency training... affectionately known as "Torture". Representatives from an independent company came to teach us principles of how to survive and endure detention and captivity situations, ranging from detainment at the airport, being taken hostage, dealing with reporters and negotiations, how to detect surveillance, and even how to possibly escape from captivity.  After they taught us various principles, we began "stress inoculation"...  basically, they took people or groups out and simulated actual hostage and detention situations.  As one of the first hostages taken, I can attest that it was real stress... the thought that "This is just pretend" really didn't cross my mind!

All in all, the week was VERY beneficial, and I wouldn't trade it for anything, but believe me when I say that everyone was a little on-edge at the end of our last session on Saturday.  We all needed to just get away from campus Saturday night, so 6 of us decided to go to Red Robin for some good burgers and great fries.  We had a great meal, great conversation, and lots of laughter.  We had finished our meal, paid the check, and were getting ready to go when we heard what sounded like gunfire.  In a split-second, we all exchanged looks and honestly considered either falling into the aisle or diving under the table.  Evidently, the food, conversation, laughter, and falling snow hadn't been enough to relax us from contingency training, because a popped balloon almost put 6 adults on the floor!

Hope for Africa

I love the way God gives new meaning to Scripture you've read over and over and over again.  Last week  I was reading the Christmas passage in Isaiah 9, but I decided to back up to the beginning of the chapter.  I know I've read it before, and maybe it's just a new perspective and focus now, but when I read it this time, it screamed Africa to me.  

2 The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.  

3 You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as men rejoice when dividing the plunder.  

4 For as in the day of Midian's defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor.  

5 Every warrior's boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.  

6 For to us a Child is born, to us a Son is given, and the government will be on His shoulders.  And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

The ONLY hope for Africa, the only hope for the nations, is Jesus.  And the great thing is that God has promised that they will see Him.  They will know Him.  He will redeem His people, give them a hope and a future, and will bring an end to the trials that have plagued them.  Praise God!  Not only does Jesus give hope for an eternity, but a practical hope for life here on earth.  He truly is the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.  This Christmas season, pray that the nations may see and believe that Jesus Christ is the all-sufficient Gift... He is the Hope for Africa.

SNOW!!!!

I love snow.  Even though I hate the cold (because in South Carolina, cold usually means cold and wet, which is just no fun), I love snow.  Maybe it's because of my snow-deprived childhood.  Maybe it's because snow meant a day off from school.  Maybe it's because Dad stayed home from work, built a fire, and had snowball fights with us.  Maybe it's because Mom made chili, hot chocolate, and snow cream.  Whatever the reason, I love snow.

It's snowed a few times since I've been in Virginia (which is crazy to me, because anything before the middle of January seems ridiculously early for snow!)  Most of the snow we've gotten has just been a few flurries flying-- definitely too warm for anything to stick, but really pretty to see falling, and absolutely enough to make the heart jump a little.

But last night?  Last night it SNOWED.  I don't mean a few scattered little flakes that dissolve before you can stick your tongue out.  I mean shining-in-the-streetlamps, baby-it's-cold-outside, make-hot-chocolate, glad-I'm-not-driving-in-this snow.  How is it that snow brings out the kid in us all?  Why do we sing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs and look for an opportunity to ambush some boys with snowballs?  In all honesty, I really don't know.  But I'm glad for it.

Sadly, the snow was almost gone when I woke up this (cold) morning.  And what hadn't melted blew away during our very windy time in house church.  But can I just say how immensely grateful I am for one more chance to play in the snow before I move to Africa?  God is so good!  :)

Slacker...

Maybe not slacker, but REALLY busy.  And it's sort of sad, because so many things have happened this week that I really wanted to share, but now I'm not even sure what I wanted to tell you about...  but I'll try.  So please bear with me through the next few, short posts... I had great intentions!

Afternoon at the Museum

I love it when God gives you an "aha" moment.  Yesterday all 350 of us went to DC for a ministry field trip... focusing on reaching internationals and getting a better understanding of our people's culture and worldview.  (Sidenote: one of our assignments was to eat lunch at an ethnic restaurant... Ethiopian food is REALLY good, if you can get over eating with your hands out of one huge bowl on the table!)  The group I was with decided to go to the African art museum to try to find some Africans and get some first-hand understanding of their culture.  

While we were in an exhibit with some smaller pieces, I had the opportunity to speak with Simeon, a brother from Trinidad who came to visit some friends for Thanksgiving.  As a believer, he was really frustrated with the whole Thanksgiving thing, and observed that Americans in general used Thanksgiving more as an excuse to overeat than as an opportunity to show their gratitude to God.  We had a great conversation about what really matters, and some good time to encourage each other.  Please pray for Simeon as he returns to Trinidad, to be strengthened in his faith even more.

When our conversation ended, I realized the girls in my group had left the exhibit in the museum, so I decided to check out some of the other exhibits in the museum to try to find them.  The next exhibit I went into was an African textiles and clothing exhibit.  The rooms were completely dark, except for spotlights shining on the pieces of fabric or objects in cases.  All of this was pretty cool, until I got into the big room of the exhibit.  When I went in, I saw that there were four full-sized masks on display around the room.  Before I go any farther, you need to understand that masks and the costumes that go along with them aren't just considered to be art in animist Africa.  Each mask and costume represents a different spirit or god.  During a ceremony, the tribal priest wears a mask and costume and dances and performs rituals.  They believe it is actually the spirit dancing and conducting the ceremony, not the priest.  Animists spend their entire lives trying to keep the spirits happy and appeased, but every bit of trouble in their lives is proof that the spirits are displeased.  But Jesus came "to free those who through fear of death were subject to slavery all their lives." (Heb. 2:14)

When I walked in and saw these masks and costumes, my heart stopped.  It was like being in the presence of these demonic beings all at once, without warning.  I was seriously creeped out.  I was still looking for the girls, and I was trying to get myself under control.  "Be a big girl... they're only objects... they have no power, God is bigger..."  These were my thoughts as I was trying to get a grip.  I kept walking around the exhibit, trying to focus on the fabrics and clothing, trying to find my teammates, but it honestly felt like one of the costumes in particular was watching me wherever I went.  I have truly never felt such heaviness and oppression in my life.  My only thought was leaving the room and getting away from these demonic manifestations.  I really felt like a big loser for not toughing it out, because I know that greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world. (1 John 4:4)  But there also comes a time to flee from evil... so that's what I did.

As I was walking out, the Holy Spirit spoke very clearly.  He said, "You were under that oppression for 30 seconds, and it was all you could stand.  How do they feel, My children who live under this oppression every day, all their lives, slaves to fear?"  As much as this short experience was so gut-wrenching and difficult, I wouldn't exchange it.  God, in His wisdom, placed me in this museum and this exhibit to allow me to get just a taste of that fear and oppression that my people in Africa live under every day of their lives.  I didn't enjoy it, but I am so glad I went through it.  God gave me an experience that lets me understand my people just a little better.  And that little taste makes the whole experience worthwhile.