Lodz, Poland is one of the most depressing places I have ever seen. There is a personality to it that is like no other. I know that it can't compare to places where earthquakes, tsunamis, and hurricanes have hit and destroyed lives. But Lodz has as darkness. Perhaps it's from the loss of industry or from the unspeakable things that happened to the Jews by the Nazi's. Maybe it's because many here have been depressed so long they don't know it anymore. There is simply a need for the light and love of Jesus to penetrate this personality and transform it. That's why we came in Jesus' name.
Light and love often come at unexpected times through unexpected actions by unexpected people. All week I have been separated from working with my son, Max. Throughout the week I have had person after person come up and tell me what a great worker and person my son has been. He has been working with a team of 21 in a shelter for women wanting to leave domestic violence situations. I think every person on that team and about 50 others have told me about my amazing son. I guess I see his ways every day and he is just normal "Max" to me. God showed me tonight that he is anything but normal...Jesus shown especially bright through him tonight.
We were at the end of the week celebration. It was a concert held in the city that was put on by the organization with whom we partnered. There was a gospel choir singing (wait till you hear the story about this in my message on Aug 22). I went people watching for a few minutes and when I returned I witnessed my son doing something that impressed me so deeply that I could not control my tears. I'm still tearing up. I saw my son at the front of the crowd...in a line of people holding hands...swaying. But he wasn't holding the hand of a person from the group or from a person his age. In fact, nobody around him was from our group or was his age. He was holding the hand of a developmentally disabled person whom he had never met. She was in a happy place holding his hand and swaying to a song. He looked to me like an angel of the living God.
Needless to say that I am the proudest father that has ever existed...my son shone to the glory of his earthly and heavenly fathers. I love you Max! I want to grow up and be like you one day.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Wow!
There are few moments in life when a "worship service" plays in both the personal and corporate level. Tonight I was a part of one of those times. The only thing missing was my wife and the kids back home. That would have been perfect. It wasn't so much the songs or the message, though both were compelling in their own right. We were compelled to cry out, to declare our allegiance, to serve...and even to shed a tear in gratitude. This was more about actual worship...giving God the credit He alone is due. My prayer tonight is that every person that reads this has an experience like this both personally and with the Body of Jesus on earth.
Staring in the Eyes of Jesus
While we wake up for the day, many of have been or are just getting ready to go to sleep. It's 12:20 AM in the States and 6:20 AM in Poland. Today we get to go see Jesus...again.
For some he will be seen in the eyes of orphans whom eagerly await our return today. For some he will be seen in women being protected from domestic violence. I will see him today in a disabled man who has spend the good part of 20 years in bed and can't get into his wheelchair for the bedsores that cover his body are too numerous and painful. He spends his days eating, smoking, drinking various kinds of liquids (alcohol partly). But he always lights up when we have come into the room to work on his tiny flat.
The flat is drab and full of furniture. It's on the bottom floor of a 4 story building that is very much WWII era, full of graffiti as most building in Lodz. The living conditions are poor and dangerous but you never hear a complaint...only gratefulness for a few people in his life that check on him daily.
Yesterday I wanted to get to know him. I am the only English speaking person on the small team I am on and I let the interpreter know that I wanted to talk with him about his life and hopefully about God. Instead, the interpreter got sick and I was left to lead a team with hand gestures and smiles. Disappointed I went to work. While scrubbing a wall so filthy and smelly from all kinds of accidents and incidents, I was spoken to by God, "As you do to the least of these, you have done to me." This was Scripture that I have read before but never truly experienced. It was perhaps a few seconds after I heard the voice that I looked over at the man...and stared into the eyes of Jesus.
I'm not sure if I'll ever be the same. I hope not. I only know that I want to see Jesus more and I may have discovered one way to spend that time with Him. So, if you want the same thing as I do...being with Jesus...then find a nursing home, a child, a friend that cannot help themselves right now, or an organization that works with the "least of these" and serve them.
I don't know what today will hold at the tiny flat...but one thing is for sure, I will spend the day with some new friends from Poland...and of course, I'll be looking at Jesus.
For some he will be seen in the eyes of orphans whom eagerly await our return today. For some he will be seen in women being protected from domestic violence. I will see him today in a disabled man who has spend the good part of 20 years in bed and can't get into his wheelchair for the bedsores that cover his body are too numerous and painful. He spends his days eating, smoking, drinking various kinds of liquids (alcohol partly). But he always lights up when we have come into the room to work on his tiny flat.
The flat is drab and full of furniture. It's on the bottom floor of a 4 story building that is very much WWII era, full of graffiti as most building in Lodz. The living conditions are poor and dangerous but you never hear a complaint...only gratefulness for a few people in his life that check on him daily.
Yesterday I wanted to get to know him. I am the only English speaking person on the small team I am on and I let the interpreter know that I wanted to talk with him about his life and hopefully about God. Instead, the interpreter got sick and I was left to lead a team with hand gestures and smiles. Disappointed I went to work. While scrubbing a wall so filthy and smelly from all kinds of accidents and incidents, I was spoken to by God, "As you do to the least of these, you have done to me." This was Scripture that I have read before but never truly experienced. It was perhaps a few seconds after I heard the voice that I looked over at the man...and stared into the eyes of Jesus.
I'm not sure if I'll ever be the same. I hope not. I only know that I want to see Jesus more and I may have discovered one way to spend that time with Him. So, if you want the same thing as I do...being with Jesus...then find a nursing home, a child, a friend that cannot help themselves right now, or an organization that works with the "least of these" and serve them.
I don't know what today will hold at the tiny flat...but one thing is for sure, I will spend the day with some new friends from Poland...and of course, I'll be looking at Jesus.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
When Toto Discovered He Wasn't in Kansas
Hopefully by now you know that I am in Poland and not in Canton. I'm already missing home and it made me think of the Wizard of Oz. Don't ask me why but it did. And it got me thinking...You know everyone gives Dorothy credit for being gone from Kansas but we seem to forget about Toto. Toto was out of his element too. No home conveniences. And, as a dog, how did he really feel about the scarecrow? Poor Toto. I wonder what top few things got Toto's attention about Emerald City and the surrounding area...
Anyhow, here are a few things that got my attention this week and reminded me I am definitely NOT home...
1. When a local who speaks both Polish and English tells you that you can learn the language easily if you say things as they are spelled and it reads how it sounds...and when you try it you end up calling someone something, ummmm, embarrassing....Toto ain't home.
2. When you are working in an apartment with 4 other people (of which 3 are women) and one guy (not me) decides to change clothes down to his speedo skivvies...and no one says ANYTHING...Toto ain't home.
3. When you witness the Kingdom of God come to earth with compassion and power...and realize that what you see is just a glimmer of what is to come...Toto wants to experience home.
Anyhow, here are a few things that got my attention this week and reminded me I am definitely NOT home...
1. When a local who speaks both Polish and English tells you that you can learn the language easily if you say things as they are spelled and it reads how it sounds...and when you try it you end up calling someone something, ummmm, embarrassing....Toto ain't home.
2. When you are working in an apartment with 4 other people (of which 3 are women) and one guy (not me) decides to change clothes down to his speedo skivvies...and no one says ANYTHING...Toto ain't home.
3. When you witness the Kingdom of God come to earth with compassion and power...and realize that what you see is just a glimmer of what is to come...Toto wants to experience home.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Poland Day 1
We landed in Poland on Aug 1 at 1:30 in the afternoon Poland time. Of course the sun is just coming up in the States. I came along with 10 others from the church I serve, one of which is my son, Max. We are looking forward to working alongside internationals in a city called Lodz. More to come...gotta catch some sights of this country.
Monday, July 19, 2010
I'm Allergic to That
We recently went to dinner at the home of some new friends at church. Watching kids play and interact is always one of my favorite things to do. I have special fun watching the 3-5 year old playtime. They have a unique way of communicating the things they don't yet understand. Kind of like that person who tries to sing along with just about any Led Zeppelin song without the album lyrics on hand. They just kind of make words up. That makes me laugh.
Anyhow, the kids are playing together nicely when all of a sudden our 4 year old daughter comes into the room. She sighs deeply, sheepishly looks at the assembled parental units and states, "(boy's name withheld) told me that he wants to marry me...and I'm allergic to that!" Then she prances away as we sat in half disbelief and half hysterics over what we just heard. We know the odds of that coming true are very slim (especially since there are 2 other girls for whom this youngling has affections). But it was just plain funny to hear. It's making me smile now.
I think maybe God has that same kind of fun listening to us as we try to articulate the things happening to us in life we don't understand in language we can best come up with. Sometimes we're talking to him about work or our marriage or our lack of marriage or our need for a new something or other...you get the picture. We are just talking and talking and talking trying to put words to our experiences and needs. "God, the boss just said I need to move to Nebraska...I'm allergic to that!" "God, my laundry needs done...I'm allergic to that!" (this would be my personal issue).
No wonder the Bible says that, "...the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will." God has this perfect way of knowing what we mean when we gibber jabber our way around life and the Spirit knows just how to take what we need and converse with the Father over what's best for the plans created for us. Maybe the "groans" are laughter pains. Who knows. It's simply good to know that God is concerned and conversing about the life of his children whom he loves and enjoys.
Anyhow, the kids are playing together nicely when all of a sudden our 4 year old daughter comes into the room. She sighs deeply, sheepishly looks at the assembled parental units and states, "(boy's name withheld) told me that he wants to marry me...and I'm allergic to that!" Then she prances away as we sat in half disbelief and half hysterics over what we just heard. We know the odds of that coming true are very slim (especially since there are 2 other girls for whom this youngling has affections). But it was just plain funny to hear. It's making me smile now.
I think maybe God has that same kind of fun listening to us as we try to articulate the things happening to us in life we don't understand in language we can best come up with. Sometimes we're talking to him about work or our marriage or our lack of marriage or our need for a new something or other...you get the picture. We are just talking and talking and talking trying to put words to our experiences and needs. "God, the boss just said I need to move to Nebraska...I'm allergic to that!" "God, my laundry needs done...I'm allergic to that!" (this would be my personal issue).
No wonder the Bible says that, "...the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will." God has this perfect way of knowing what we mean when we gibber jabber our way around life and the Spirit knows just how to take what we need and converse with the Father over what's best for the plans created for us. Maybe the "groans" are laughter pains. Who knows. It's simply good to know that God is concerned and conversing about the life of his children whom he loves and enjoys.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Freedom Prayer
Our family was recently invited to a friend’s home for dinner. That doesn’t happen too much. Most people are very afraid of our numbers. When we are invited over, its fun to see the amount of food made in preparation for our arrival. However, this family had it down. Not too little, not too much.
While there visiting, I did what I normally do…I check out the photos on the walls. There were pictures of family from both sides of the family, kids, and animals. Then one picture caught my attention that was sobering. It was a picture of a tombstone of a young man who had died in 2005 during Operation Iraqi Freedom. Behind the tombstone was a little boy whom I found out was the son of our friends. Interestingly enough, the boy was born slightly before the young soldier (his cousin) died in war. It was a moving memorial to me.
After a time of reflection, I found myself focused on what that picture represented. It represented to me a sacrifice…and a future. One who had all of life ahead of him giving up his life in thoughts of someone yet born. It makes me more grateful. It drives me to make decisions that help create a future for the generations behind us should Jesus tarry. It helps me remember our national family members who stand in my stead to protect what I often abuse…freedom.
Mostly, it makes me more driven to pray. To pray for those who are fighting for freedom. For their safety. To pray for our enemies that they might be ever changed by love. To pray for those who are caught between. To pray for freedom fighters in the Kingdom of God. For the ones who are in need of freedom from addiction, frustration, guilt, shame, sin, brokenness and loneliness. What a time to be called to prayer.
Father, I thank you for where you have placed me in the scheme of eternity to be a blessing to the world. In some places I just cannot physically go without your calling so I pray in your name to bless the world. Thank you for my freedom...for my responsibility to join you in fighting for all kinds of freedom. Show me my way that I may bring you glory on this earth and in your Kingdom. Amen!
While there visiting, I did what I normally do…I check out the photos on the walls. There were pictures of family from both sides of the family, kids, and animals. Then one picture caught my attention that was sobering. It was a picture of a tombstone of a young man who had died in 2005 during Operation Iraqi Freedom. Behind the tombstone was a little boy whom I found out was the son of our friends. Interestingly enough, the boy was born slightly before the young soldier (his cousin) died in war. It was a moving memorial to me.
After a time of reflection, I found myself focused on what that picture represented. It represented to me a sacrifice…and a future. One who had all of life ahead of him giving up his life in thoughts of someone yet born. It makes me more grateful. It drives me to make decisions that help create a future for the generations behind us should Jesus tarry. It helps me remember our national family members who stand in my stead to protect what I often abuse…freedom.
Mostly, it makes me more driven to pray. To pray for those who are fighting for freedom. For their safety. To pray for our enemies that they might be ever changed by love. To pray for those who are caught between. To pray for freedom fighters in the Kingdom of God. For the ones who are in need of freedom from addiction, frustration, guilt, shame, sin, brokenness and loneliness. What a time to be called to prayer.
Father, I thank you for where you have placed me in the scheme of eternity to be a blessing to the world. In some places I just cannot physically go without your calling so I pray in your name to bless the world. Thank you for my freedom...for my responsibility to join you in fighting for all kinds of freedom. Show me my way that I may bring you glory on this earth and in your Kingdom. Amen!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
