Thursday, July 29, 2010

July 28 -Missions, Part 4

I must begin the last of my series on missions with an apology. It has been two weeks since I last posted, which you will notice; however, my summer has taken a turn for the better, thus occupying my mind quite heavily. But excuses aside, here is the rest of my story.
While you may not find my activities on the Thailand trip to be very high key, this trip did present me with a challenge which I had not experienced on the previous trip. The very lack of activity drained me emotionally, as I struggled with the pressure of not meeting the standards I had set for myself. I went to Thailand intending to experience a profound change in my life that those around me would notice. Of course I wanted to be a blessing to those I would be serving as well. Fact is, I hoped to accomplish something big, you know, start a program or whatever. Two weeks into the trip, I decided I had failed. I was questioning God as to why I was even there. I was actually ready to come home. At this point, I gave up the fight. I determined to accept that my relationship with the Vandenhauttes was the only success that I would bring away from Thailand. In fact, it was my friendship with them that helped me deal with my apparent failures at the university.
However, despite my many mistakes, God showed up and proved Himself true. I had, ever since junior high, looked at myself as a failure. I expected failure of myself in every area while at the same time being terrified of it. God had once promised me that He would turn my failures into successes. I had let go of this promise, but He remembered it quite well.
When I let go of my fight, He stepped in and took over. There was a guy who had showed up at the English Resource Center, and would later come to a couple of my classes, with whom I started hanging out at the local coffee shop. I didn't speak Thai, and he didn't speak very good English, but we talked as much as we could, and I had the opportunity to share my personal testimony with him. One night towards the end of my trip, he wanted to hang out for a bit, so we went out to a coffee shop again. During a lull in the conversation, he asked me, "Why do you believe in God?" I saw my opportunity, so retold my story, then asked him if he was ready to make Jesus Christ his Lord and Savior. He said yes, so I led him in a prayer. As I did so, I could feel a sense of joy and completeness like never before. Surprisingly, I never felt any pride in the part I played in it. I only felt awe that God could use someone as broken and full of faults as I was. I knew now that my battle had been won; my failure turned to success, not because of what I had done, but because of who He is. This is, in fact, the reason that I live: not because of who I am or what I've done, but because of who He is and what He has done.
That experience completely broke my fear of failure. I knew that I could trust Him to take my mistakes and use them for His purposes. Isn't that the way we are supposed to live? This is perhaps the message of my experience in missions: that we must seek after Him and His Kingdom with all that we are, while recognizing that we are broken people and He a whole and perfect God who will use our brokenness to accomplish His will. Will you agree with me in surrendering our brokenness to His purposes?

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

July 14 - Missions, Part 3 (to be continued)

Relationships played a key role in my third, and to date, last, missions trip. This trip was to Chiang Mai, Thailand. The largest city in Northern Thailand, Chiang Mai has long been a tourist destination and NGO hot spot. My dad had touched down in Chiang Mai, where he met Michel Vandenhautte, a French missionary doctor. Michel came to visit our family around Thanksgiving of 2008, and during his stay, I had connected with him in a way that I didn't normally connect with people. One vision we had in common was working in China, so when I found out he was thinking about traveling to China for a visit and wanted me to join him, I jumped at the opportunity. As it turned out, he never made that trip to China, but I, at the Lord's leading, went to Thailand anyway, where I would stay with his family. Because of an illness, his work had been put on hold, so I worked with another man my dad had met while there. Nathaniel Heng, a Singaporean missionary, works at a local university, where he heads up a center that aids students in learning English. As an intern, I would teach a few English classes once school started up again. Until then, I spent time with the young people who worked at the English Resource Center, as the center was known.
Meanwhile, I was becoming very close to the Vandenhauttes. I lived with them for the first week, then afterwards spent every evening with them. Through activities ranging from playing chess and watching episodes of a BBC series of Robin Hood to a mini-trip to visit a refugee camp with Michel's wife and eldest daughter, I found them to be some of the most extraordinary people I have ever met. To this day they are like family to me. Leaving them was, if anything, even more difficult than leaving the orphanage in Siem Reap.
The time came for school, and thus my work, to begin. I was to teach two English classes a week. Sounds great, until you realize it was only for two weeks. Now you see why I said you won't find any extraordinary accomplishment in a description of my missions experience. I was uncomfortable with my position as a teacher, to say the least. I had no clue as to how one should teach English. Fortunately, I had Ruth (Michel's wife) as backup. I'm not sure what I would have done without her suggestions to push me through that handful of classes. However, I came through it, only to be astonished by the gratitude that my "students" showed me. Other than a couple of college students, I had a lady in my class who worked at the university. She expressed her gratitude for what little I had to offer by organizing the purchase of some gifts for me. That gratitude has been a mark of all my trips, where the return on investment for the little effort that I put out there is so much greater than I deserve.
The time came to say farewell. I went back to the university one last time to see everyone there. I remember the day I was to leave I was playing Scrabble with Michel's girls while trying to hold off the emotions that I knew were bound to come. On the plane back to Bangkok, I had to fight back the tears that threatened to break out of the feeble restraints I had established. When I arrived in Singapore, I spent a few days hanging out with Nathaniel Heng and his family (who had traveled back to Singapore a few weeks before for the summer) and some of the young people from his church whom I had met while passing through Singapore before arriving in Thailand. The young people showed me a wonderful time, from hanging out in the evenings to visiting a history museum, but I struggled during those few days to get past some of the emotion from leaving Chiang Mai. However, four or five days later, I left Singapore for the US, ready to go home, though knowing I would miss my new Singaporean friends.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

July 10 - Missions, Part 2 (to be continued)

As the team left, I moved in with Pastor Simon and Dora Valenzuela. I began going to the orphanage every day. It was only a matter of time before the children got over their shyness and started swarming me. I remember playing tag with the younger children, chasing them all over the orphanage. Once, a couple of the boys climbed up the back wall of one of the buildings and dared me to follow. Another time I was trying to take a nap on a mat, but I wasn't to be left alone. The children would run up to me one at a time to grab my feet, while I was warding off another. By the end of the two weeks that I was there, the children had become like younger siblings to me. The night before I was to leave, they gathered around to thank me for coming. I can still see the picture in my mind, with them sitting on the floor in front of me and the staff gathered around. I can't fully explain the feelings in my heart at that point, but I knew that I loved those kids.
Simon and Dora's daughter, Lois, was responsible for the youth meetings that took place once a week. The attendees came from the village. I had the privilege to speak one night. I remember for me it was something of a freeing experience, as I had always had problems with public speaking, but found that with a translator, I could talk fine without stumbling over my words.
I took part in some other activities, like repainting a room in one of the buildings and taking the kids swimming, but the one that I spent the most time on was teaching some of the village youth to play basketball. The Cambodian sport is soccer. Should I have gotten mixed up in a soccer game, I never would have been able to keep up. But basketball was something that they didn't know how to play, and I knew a little something about, so I made use of the single basketball hoop in the orphanage, every bit of pavement available, and the little training I had had in sixth grade to not only teach basketball, but to organize a tournament at the end of that week. That week I spent with the guys from the village is one of my most memorable experiences. Of course, I didn't speak Cambodian, and very few of them could understand any English, so trying to communicate what I wanted them to do often times resulted in a lot of laughs. I would say something over and over, while showing them what to do, and anyone who could understand a couple of the words I used would explain it to the others. Teaching them from scratch, I had to determine to what degree I would call them on for mistakes, like fouls. Lois got me a whistle, which of course made things more entertaining.
They were a good group of guys. We would begin with drills. I remember after so many days of drills, when I said it was time for suicides, they would all grimace. I didn't give them room to complain, though, since I ran with them. What I really appreciated was that they were always so cheerful about it. Even running those suicides in ninety degree weather didn't repulse them.
After drills we would scrimmage. I would attempt to call them on as many mistakes as I could easily catch, while they had a blast pounding the pavement. These scrimmages were fun and humorous.
Finally, at the end of that week, we took them to a nearby school to play a tournament on the public court. A professional ref probably would have been at his wits end at how many errors went uncalled, but what I remember is a bunch of guys who had no idea of how to play basketball coming together and, at the end of a week, being able to take that ball up and down the court, block, and score. Funny thing is, I am a terrible basketball player. I don't look back on that as so much of an accomplishment on my part. Rather, I see it as having been an amazing opportunity to build relationships with those guys.
In fact, that is primarily what I came away from that trip with. If you are looking for a series of accomplishments or activities to mark a successful missions trip, you won't find it in any of mine. But what I learned from those children and youth in Siem Reap, Cambodia was that the key to missions, in fact, the key to being a witness for Jesus Christ anywhere in the world, is relationships. While building houses, doing Vacation Bible Schools, etc are important and necessary, those things don't give you access into the hearts of the people you are seeking to help. The only way to point others towards Jesus is through binding your heart to theirs in relationship. This means hard work, and often sacrifice, because if your heart is bound to theirs, than anything that separates you or touches them will burn your heart. But it is vital. Jesus did command us to love God first, then others, didn't He? It seems to me that He answered the question of how to fulfill the Great Commission with that one simple command.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

July 3 - Missions, Part 1 (to be continued...)

I just got done watching a video clip that a friend posted on Facebook from his missions trip to Guatemala in 2009. Watching it, I couldn't help but think about my own trips, in 2009 and in 2007.
My introduction to missions came when I was ten, when I accompanied my father to Siem Reap, Cambodia. That trip planted something in my heart. Several years later, while praying one night, a longing to return to Cambodia rose up in me. The Lord paved the way to go back, so in January of 2007, I flew into Bangkok to join a team from the non-profit humanitarian group People for Care and Learning. PCL, as they are known, followed my dad into Siem Reap. He had, for several years, played the role of coordinator, putting together projects, people, and groups. With the groundwork he had laid, PCL stepped in to launch several projects. Every other month or so, PCL would bring in a team to show them the work being done, to raise support.
It was with one of these teams that I found myself, entirely by the grace of God, back in Cambodia. The Lord's hand could be seen from the very beginning of the trip, as my plane in Tokyo, Japan had broken down, causing me to miss my flight and the meeting with the team. The issue didn't seem so big of a deal on my side; I was exhausted by that point, and had met up with a guy my age in Tokyo who was traveling to Thailand. He had had more traveling experience than I, so knew what he was doing. I just followed him. However, on the home front, no one had any idea where I was. I was finally able to call home and explain that I was staying in Tokyo over night. When I finally got to Bangkok, I had, of course, missed the team, so a couple who worked with PCL came back to the airport to pick me up. My dad tried to coordinate a meeting, as I called him from the public airport phone and he called the couple picking me up. "Coincidentally", they walked past me, just as I pulled out a sign that said, "PCL". Had I pulled it out thirty seconds later, they would have missed me.
After a tempestuous beginning, I joined up with the team the night before flying into Cambodia. We stopped in Phnom Penh (the capital) for a couple of days, then headed to Siem Reap. That first week was spent exploring the different projects PCL had in operation. After this time, the team left, and I moved in with Pastor Simon Valenzuela, and his wife Dora. The Valenzuelas were Filipino missionaries working for PCL at the local orphanage established on the property my parents donated to PCL. Finally my real "work" would begin.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

July 1 - Then, or Now?

"The purpose of life is a life of purpose."~ Robert Byrne (http://www.quotequarden.com/life.html)
I think that at some point in life every person will have to come to the realization that the quality of a journey isn't always in it's destination, but rather in the journey itself. Life isn't so much about finding answers to our questions, but rather the process of asking those questions. Have you ever noticed that in reading a good book, you know, one that is pretty intense, you get to the end, and the whole way you've been waiting for the end to see how it turns out, but when you get there, you don't want it to end? The quality of that book wasn't in the conclusion of the plot, but rather in the telling of the story.
As far as this quote goes, I believe the purpose of every believer is to live in a way that brings glory to God. But this doesn't happen at some climactic point in the future; it happens every day, every hour. Living purposefully, seeking to honor God with every action, word, thought pattern, and motive, is accomplishing life's purpose, to bring glory to God.
Back in the old youth group days, I remember going to youth conferences, youth camps, etc., where we would become so excited and fired up for God. We would awesome worship service after awesome worship service; we would be ready to go home and change our schools, churches, and communities, only to have that passion die out upon our return. It took me a few years to figure out that those mountain top experiences, while fantastic, are not where it happens. Growth can only happen in the valleys. Fruit can only be produced in the valleys. It's about the journey, not the destination.
To bring it home, I think a lot of Christians in America today live like, "Hey, I'm getting into heaven, that's all I need to worry about." However, Christianity is about living Christ-like, day by day. Just doing enough to "get by" on isn't enough. We're called to love God and love others, and this love requires a daily commitment. Are we willing to live purposefully, for the journey itself, and not just the destination?