Someone was sharing with me a few weeks ago about how afraid she was of not following God's plan for her life. "What if I take the wrong job, move to the wrong house, or send the kids to the wrong school? What if I do something wrong that alters God's perfect plan? How can things ever be set right again?" She seemed convinced that there was one God-ordained path for her life, and she was terrified to take a step for fear it might forever lead her down a different road and therefore, out of God's perfect will for her life. I tried to console her, encourage her to just run with her passions in Christ, but it was very hard for her to grasp it all and find peace.
Around that time, I reluctantly bought tickets to a high school friend's dance recital. My daughters wanted to see Amanda perform, and I was happy to support her, but a dance recital -honestly!?
Anyway, when the day eventually arrived, Keen had spent the night with a friend, and Heidi had gone to Worlds-of-Fun. It was just me and Kendra. It seemed like a healthy father-daughter date, but when we got there, Kendra wouldn't sit with me. So there I was, a 35 year-old-man, siting alone, watching young girls dancing -awkward.
I will say, Amanda did incredible! Her confidant smile, unexpected skill and perfect form was astounding.
The next day the experience hit me at a deeper level. That silly little dance recital was like our "walk" with God.
When the little preschoolers filed onto the stage, people giggled and cheered. There was no trouble with the director coming out and helping the little ones with the basics. And everyone was pleased to watch them sit in a row and slowly raise their arms like blooming flowers or trot around in circles like butterflies. The occasional wave to mom just added flavor.
Yet, when the high school dancers came out, there was much more expectation. The dancers not only needed to know where they were to be at every step of the performance, they were also expected to use proper form and technique with each move. The audience didn't mock or criticize when there was a stumble or a miss, but they often cheered when a tough move was made or some unexpected step was beautifully timed.
I think of God's "plan" a lot like that dance recital. God is not just the a spectator, He is the director. There are times when He needs to come out and give specific direction, and there are times when a wave to the crowd might be cute, but mostly, He just wants us to stay focused, smile and dance. Yes, there is a plan, and yes, you will stumble and miss a move here and there, but just keep your mind on the task and move as best you know how.
The picture I prefer is when the crowd is all gone, and you are just dancing for the joy of it and to make your instructor proud. He may stop you occasionally to show you a new move or to improve your style, but then, He steps aside and lets you just do what you love to do. Dance for Him.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Monday, August 3, 2009
Tears of Injustice
"Fifteen girls are going to have their hearts broken, and he doesn't even care!" Tears streamed down Kendra's face as we stood alone in a dark room, and she was almost yelling in frustration over what she saw as selfishness and injustice.
Once a week the children at the hostel are treated to a movie night. They get out the projector in the chapel, and stay up late watching movies. The moving pictures are a treasured escape from the concrete walls of the campus and the slow pace of village life.
This week, the girls had their hearts set on watching a certain teenage chick-flick that had been loaned to us by a local missionary family. The movie was a common kids movie in the States, but it was contrary to the values the hostel leadership was trying to teach.
Kendra didn't understand how offencive the movie was to the leadership. All she could see was a young male administrator practicing his authority by overruling the girlie movie so he could watch a guy movie. Kendra knew they would watch the chick-flick in Thai, so she wouldn't be able understand the movie if the girls won. That wasn't the point. In her mind it wasn't fair. The one with the power should not ignore the voices of so many and selfishly do as he or she wishes.
I was so proud of my young justice fighter. I told her that it's good to hurt for the suffering of others, but we must not let the love for the seemingly oppressed turn into finger-pointing and passing judgment on those who hold the power. We must not let the love for some turn to bitterness for others.
It's interesting how so often my children face the same frustrations I do just on a different level. It's so easy to speak truth into their "little" issues, but usually when I do the words swing out of my mouth, slap me on the cheek and dart back in my own ear to stab my heart right where I'm struggling.
Once a week the children at the hostel are treated to a movie night. They get out the projector in the chapel, and stay up late watching movies. The moving pictures are a treasured escape from the concrete walls of the campus and the slow pace of village life.
This week, the girls had their hearts set on watching a certain teenage chick-flick that had been loaned to us by a local missionary family. The movie was a common kids movie in the States, but it was contrary to the values the hostel leadership was trying to teach.
Kendra didn't understand how offencive the movie was to the leadership. All she could see was a young male administrator practicing his authority by overruling the girlie movie so he could watch a guy movie. Kendra knew they would watch the chick-flick in Thai, so she wouldn't be able understand the movie if the girls won. That wasn't the point. In her mind it wasn't fair. The one with the power should not ignore the voices of so many and selfishly do as he or she wishes.
I was so proud of my young justice fighter. I told her that it's good to hurt for the suffering of others, but we must not let the love for the seemingly oppressed turn into finger-pointing and passing judgment on those who hold the power. We must not let the love for some turn to bitterness for others.
It's interesting how so often my children face the same frustrations I do just on a different level. It's so easy to speak truth into their "little" issues, but usually when I do the words swing out of my mouth, slap me on the cheek and dart back in my own ear to stab my heart right where I'm struggling.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Getting demerits and taking a stand
Last week, I attended a training course. We were learning about the school system my children are in, so they had us take the place of a student in order to experience and better understand it. This was a real test of my pride. It's very hard to humble yourself like a child especially when the rules seem ridiculous and controlling.
Our instructor was a sober, elderly, Philippine woman (Outside of the classroom, I found her to be a very tender-hearted, Godly woman). She had specific procedures for every aspect of her classroom. She would tell us when we could sit, when we could stand, what color of pen to use where, and when it was appropriate to raise your hand. Always face forward in your chair. Always push in your chair when you stand. Always use "blessed words" ("May I Please...Thank you"). Pencils are only to be sharpened during brakes, and the list goes on. Any violation of the procedures was grounds for a demerit (three demerits = detention).
My partner was a younger guy with a history of a short temper. By about the third day, as his demerits and detentions were accumulating, his frustration was evident. But the wise and patient teacher responded with, "Guard your heart, Sir."
I laughed (quietly, of course), but it was something I needed to hear as well, not just in that classroom but in many other aspects of life.
One of my dear friends is a young man trying to learn English. We get to to spend a lot of time in the truck together as we pick up and drop off the kids at school, so this is good time for him to practice his English and teach me a little Thai. Today, he was telling me about his high school.
Each day the kids would gather in front of the school, and the teachers have them bow down and worship an idol. There was only one other Christian in his class, and each time the two of them refused to bow. His friends would turn to him and say, "Come on, bow." But he would not. He finished his story by saying, "...when you are Christian, you are different."
Our instructor was a sober, elderly, Philippine woman (Outside of the classroom, I found her to be a very tender-hearted, Godly woman). She had specific procedures for every aspect of her classroom. She would tell us when we could sit, when we could stand, what color of pen to use where, and when it was appropriate to raise your hand. Always face forward in your chair. Always push in your chair when you stand. Always use "blessed words" ("May I Please...Thank you"). Pencils are only to be sharpened during brakes, and the list goes on. Any violation of the procedures was grounds for a demerit (three demerits = detention).
My partner was a younger guy with a history of a short temper. By about the third day, as his demerits and detentions were accumulating, his frustration was evident. But the wise and patient teacher responded with, "Guard your heart, Sir."
I laughed (quietly, of course), but it was something I needed to hear as well, not just in that classroom but in many other aspects of life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One of my dear friends is a young man trying to learn English. We get to to spend a lot of time in the truck together as we pick up and drop off the kids at school, so this is good time for him to practice his English and teach me a little Thai. Today, he was telling me about his high school.
Each day the kids would gather in front of the school, and the teachers have them bow down and worship an idol. There was only one other Christian in his class, and each time the two of them refused to bow. His friends would turn to him and say, "Come on, bow." But he would not. He finished his story by saying, "...when you are Christian, you are different."
Saturday, June 20, 2009
More About God's Provision
Keen and his friends are wanting to start a soccer team. Yesterday, they went on a 17 kilometer run (10.5 miles) through sun and rain. I was very impressed, and he got up pretty sore this morning. As I understand, him and his friends made it back about an hour ahead of the coach and some of the other lead players. He said he cramped up, but the pain goes away if you just keep running.
Before they left, I was drawing water at the well with some of the kids.
Sahmalie: "You run with the boys?"
Me: "No, I don't have shoes for running."
Sahmalie: "Yes, you do." (She pointed at my bare feet.) "God gave you shoes."
Me: "No, they are like baby, tender and soft."
This conversation has been hunting me. She was right. This young girl has learned a valuable life lesson. We think we need this and that, and we all have our excuses why we can't get involved, but God provides and has provided. In so many ways, I just need to get out of my comfort zone, toughen up and run the race He has for me.
Before they left, I was drawing water at the well with some of the kids.
Sahmalie: "You run with the boys?"
Me: "No, I don't have shoes for running."
Sahmalie: "Yes, you do." (She pointed at my bare feet.) "God gave you shoes."
Me: "No, they are like baby, tender and soft."
This conversation has been hunting me. She was right. This young girl has learned a valuable life lesson. We think we need this and that, and we all have our excuses why we can't get involved, but God provides and has provided. In so many ways, I just need to get out of my comfort zone, toughen up and run the race He has for me.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
The Provider
I found out about 7:30 this morning that I was to be preaching the morning service, and I had already committed to take a walk with the girls before church. I quickly went to my room and found a Scripture, and a few minutes later we went on our walk. We came in late for church, but I think the Lord chose the Scripture and gave me an appropriate illustration. He is my provider in so many ways.
After church we had a meeting with the hostel kids and staff to talk about rules and chores. The headman was very concerned that our electric bill was over 5,000 Baht (that's about $175 for the entire campus for a month). He explained that we could have cut back on our spending and had enough money to feed six families in Burma.
This is not the fluff we tell our children, "Clean your plate...there are starving children in Africa." (As though, somehow our consuming more will help either our empathy or their situation) He is serious. He could probably tell you their names. They are real people, and our spending habits effect their lives. So do yours, whoever you are.
After church we had a meeting with the hostel kids and staff to talk about rules and chores. The headman was very concerned that our electric bill was over 5,000 Baht (that's about $175 for the entire campus for a month). He explained that we could have cut back on our spending and had enough money to feed six families in Burma.
This is not the fluff we tell our children, "Clean your plate...there are starving children in Africa." (As though, somehow our consuming more will help either our empathy or their situation) He is serious. He could probably tell you their names. They are real people, and our spending habits effect their lives. So do yours, whoever you are.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
A couple moments from the morning routine
One of my responsibilities is to be the adult in the back of the truck each morning. Instead of school buses we use small trucks with padded bench seats, a roll cage and roof over the bed. My truck has 14 children mostly from the hostel.
It's a beautiful drive through the mountains, but sometimes it's nice to just close my eyes and listen to the girls sing. Usually it's in Thai, and I don't understand, but it doesn't matter. The voices of these half-dozen upper-elementary school girls are the perfect sound track to the setting.
Maybe you just had to be there, but it was "a moment" for me. So beautiful, so inspiring.
A few days later, on the same routine drive, we happened to be passing the market at the same time the monks were there making their morning rounds. We stopped at an intersection next to a row of five monks and their "caddie." They stood with their backs to the street, just inches from our truck, waiting for handouts from the shopkeepers. I noticed that a number of market workers had left their work to bow down and worship before the monks in the middle of the morning rush.
It was disturbing to me on two levels. First, I was struck by how lost this culture is spiritually. Then, as we drove on, I began to compare their devotion to that of the American Christian. How many of us would take time out of our busy morning routine to make a humbling statement of faith for several minutes on a crowded sidewalk?
God help us all, the lost on the streets and the found that are sleeping.
It's a beautiful drive through the mountains, but sometimes it's nice to just close my eyes and listen to the girls sing. Usually it's in Thai, and I don't understand, but it doesn't matter. The voices of these half-dozen upper-elementary school girls are the perfect sound track to the setting.
A few days ago, I was surprised to hear them sing in their broken English,
"Make a difference in me, make a world of difference. From the
inside out let it show.
Make a difference in me, make a world of difference. Change me
so the world will know.
Change me Jesus, let your love shine through. Change me Jesus,
make me more like you..."
Maybe you just had to be there, but it was "a moment" for me. So beautiful, so inspiring.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few days later, on the same routine drive, we happened to be passing the market at the same time the monks were there making their morning rounds. We stopped at an intersection next to a row of five monks and their "caddie." They stood with their backs to the street, just inches from our truck, waiting for handouts from the shopkeepers. I noticed that a number of market workers had left their work to bow down and worship before the monks in the middle of the morning rush.
It was disturbing to me on two levels. First, I was struck by how lost this culture is spiritually. Then, as we drove on, I began to compare their devotion to that of the American Christian. How many of us would take time out of our busy morning routine to make a humbling statement of faith for several minutes on a crowded sidewalk?
God help us all, the lost on the streets and the found that are sleeping.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Some highlights from the past few weeks
Offended a co-laborer by going to sleep in the first staff meeting (jet lag was rough).
Helped make bricks.
Scolded Heidi for making fun of the king in public.
Worked with hostel kids to sort trash into 3 categories (compost, burnable, and plastics).
Planted vegetable trees.
Called Mom to make her feel better.
Planted banana trees.
Took a walk with Keen.
Found that the sorted trash had all been taken to the burn pile.
Planted lemon grass (mosquito and bug repellent).
Went to an organic farm to learn about growing worms to produce fertilizer.
Made new desks for the school.
Built two outhouses.
Stopped to watch the sunset over the mountains (We can count 7 layers of mountains in one direction form the new campus)
Sent the hostel boys in to rescue Kendra from the "rat" in her room.
Installed "security systems" in the boys dorm and school building (rebar on windows)
Bought Kendra a rat trap.
Built bunk beds for boys' dorm.
Led communion for Sunday Service.
Got beat by a little girl at checkers.
Gave Kendra permission to move into girls' dorm.
Rebuilt the dish-washing station
Gave Heidi permission to move into girls' dorm.
Fought to stay awake in second staff meeting.
Brainstormed with Nick about windmill designs.
Brainstormed with Dad about timber construction and proper footing for adobe buildings.
Took a walk with the girls.
Bought graph paper to make building designs for the new campus.
Visited a rice mill.
Ate fried termites.
Shaved my goat and stash (but Ahtapa said, "No more shaving.").
Went to a mountain village to comfort a family that lost a baby to malnutrition.
Appreciated the natural light, but was a little uncomfortable with the glass walls on the public restroom.
Played in a 300 foot cascading waterfall.
Received temporary healing from a terrible headache long enough to preach a Sunday morning sermon.
Slept like a baby.
Helped make bricks.
Scolded Heidi for making fun of the king in public.
Worked with hostel kids to sort trash into 3 categories (compost, burnable, and plastics).
Planted vegetable trees.
Called Mom to make her feel better.
Planted banana trees.
Took a walk with Keen.
Found that the sorted trash had all been taken to the burn pile.
Planted lemon grass (mosquito and bug repellent).
Went to an organic farm to learn about growing worms to produce fertilizer.
Made new desks for the school.
Built two outhouses.
Stopped to watch the sunset over the mountains (We can count 7 layers of mountains in one direction form the new campus)
Sent the hostel boys in to rescue Kendra from the "rat" in her room.
Installed "security systems" in the boys dorm and school building (rebar on windows)
Bought Kendra a rat trap.
Built bunk beds for boys' dorm.
Led communion for Sunday Service.
Got beat by a little girl at checkers.
Gave Kendra permission to move into girls' dorm.
Rebuilt the dish-washing station
Gave Heidi permission to move into girls' dorm.
Fought to stay awake in second staff meeting.
Brainstormed with Nick about windmill designs.
Brainstormed with Dad about timber construction and proper footing for adobe buildings.
Took a walk with the girls.
Bought graph paper to make building designs for the new campus.
Visited a rice mill.
Ate fried termites.
Shaved my goat and stash (but Ahtapa said, "No more shaving.").
Went to a mountain village to comfort a family that lost a baby to malnutrition.
Appreciated the natural light, but was a little uncomfortable with the glass walls on the public restroom.
Played in a 300 foot cascading waterfall.
Received temporary healing from a terrible headache long enough to preach a Sunday morning sermon.
Slept like a baby.
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