Our team van was due for a checkup last Saturday. I dropped the van off, and to pass the time waiting for the van to get fixed I bought some grill food and headed to a nearby waterfall with some other leaders. We swam for a bit and were jumping off rocks into the pool at the base of the waterfall. I botched my second jump - landed hard on the water with my lower back.* The story gets a little long and dramatic after that point, but to make it short, after some medical attention it was concluded that I had compressed and fractured my spine. It became obvious that this injury was going to take some time to overcome, and surgery was becoming a strong suggestion. Surgery and physical therapy in Africa didn't sound good to me, which leads us to where I am now.
Monday I got on a plane and headed home for some good old fashioned American medicine and spinal care. I got off the plane and headed straight for the local ER. I spent most of the week in Fair Oaks Hospital. The Tuberculosis earned me a spot in isolation and a few lung x-rays to make sure I wasn't a threat. The doctors kept me hooked up to some steady painkillers, took CT-Scans and MRI's of my back, confirmed that the vertebrae was compressed to about 50% of its normal size and fractured into a lot of pieces. Surgery was ruled out, I was fitted for a backbrace, went through some minor physical therapy, and the next month is going to be a blur of laying on my back a lot and living in a back brace.
Leaving my team was pretty tough. Maybe one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. The 18 of us had developed into a pretty well-functioning family, and the honor of leading that group was the one of the best things God has ever dropped on my lap and trusted me with. I've never had to learn to lean on so much on the Father, and I've never seen Him work so powerfully in my weaknesses as I He has lately. I'm confident that my leaving is good news for the team, and I don't mean that in a cheap band-aid kind of way. I think there are some incredible things headed the teams way. For some reason God knew I needed to be out of the way for those things to come through, and he knew that breaking my back was probably one of the only reasons I would ever leave those folks. So pray for my team, for my family, my flock back in Swaziland. They are doing incredible things. I could not be more proud of them. I could not have learned more from a group of people than I have learned from living with them and trying to pastor and serve them over the last few months.
I think there are some pretty incredible things headed my way as well, and I think God knew that the only way I would really listen to him was if let me jump off a rock and virtually, completely immobilize myself. So pray that my ears would be unstopped and thirsty as I lay in bed over the next few weeks. And pray that my heart wouldn't get hard or be to swayed by the priorities of the world. I really want to choose my next path based on where God wants me, and out of the faith that He will take care of me - not based on who gives me the best insurance plan and who will give me enough money to eek out an existence in spite of recessions and anything else. That would be a miserable rejection of everything God has taught me in the last two years, and a speedy step towards bending over and becoming a slave to the world all over again. I am not prepared to take steps down those paths.
Thank you for all your prayers, during this phase and over the last few years. I know some of you are probably shocked by this news, and have a lot of questions. I should have pretty adequate and constant access to email in the next few days- I should also be relatively bored and immobile, so feel free to shoot an email my way.
peace and grace,
matt
As a brief, but important, footnote... I understand there is risk involved in jumping off of rocks into water - I also understand that by injuring myself during one of these jumps I am inviting many headshakes and statements along the lines of "This is why you shouldn't jump off of rocks into water." If you pass any of these headshakes or lines my way I will probably classify you as a ridiculous person and refuse to talk to you anymore. I will also construct a list of statistics and reasons that you should never drive a car, ride on a plane, eat McDonald's, or use a conventional microwave ever again. This footnote is partly a joke... but only partly.
Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders. -henry.david.thoreau
The Sower
Jesus tells the story of a man who sows seeds. The man doesn't seem to take much thought for where he throws the seeds. They fall all over the place.
Some fall on the road and the birds come and gobble them up.
Some fall on the they sprout quickly but there are no roots, so they don't last long.
More fall among thorns and weeds that choke out any chance of life they might have.
Still there are some who fall into fertile... rich... soil.
The birds lay off, the seeds take root, and not even the thorns can keep life from sprouting up above the soil.
These seeds yield a crop. Some even bear one hundred new seeds to be planted.
Jesus leaves the story as it is until the disciples probe him for the meaning.
He explains that seed is the Word of God the Gospel of the Kingdom and of Christ and that the condition of the soil is actually the state of our hearts how well we receive the Word and how deeply it takes root in our hearts.
For some, the truth of the gospel is gone as soon as it falls. The enemy comes and devours the seed when it has barely even touched their heart.
For some, the gospel stirs them up and inspires them, but nothing takes root and nothing changes. There is a moment of excitement: "This is a great idea!" but there is not change of heart, and soon the idea runs out of steam.
For some, the gospel is received and takes root, but the worries and distractions and obsessions of the world the good and the bad cloud and distract the heart. The busyness, tragedy, idolatry, to-do lists, and bent desires grow up and choke out the hope of the gospel.
Then there are the hearts that take the gospel seed in deep. They are soft hearts, tended in hope, and they receive the gospel desperately aware of both the brokenness of the soil and the power of the seed.
So here is our real work as followers of Jesus: tending the soil of our hearts, and the soil of the hearts around us. Our Father, out of His deep grace, has been strewing his seed indiscriminately, carefully and without caution since the beginning. Speaking his word into the darkness, bringing life and light where there was none. And His word does not return void, but accomplishes his intentions and purpose perfectly. Always has. Always will (Isaiah 55.10-11). He spoke his Word into flesh and accomplished salvation and redemption inaugurated his Kingdom and brought us near by the blood of Christ.
There are men who mow their yards with machetes in this country. Roam their lawns and gardens leveling weeds and high grass in even, mechanical strokes.
We are an army of saintly gardeners. We level the thorns, weeds, and lies of this world with heavenly weedwackers. We keep a careful rifle sight on the Crow that would gobble the word of our Father before it takes root - the thief who comes to steal, kill, and destroy. We remain wary of our often hard hearts and stiff necks - aware of our deep need for the Gospel. This keeps our hearts fertile and ready to receive Good News.
The Fertilizer
Thank God for the mess of our lives, the disasters and shortcomings. By grace we can consider them all rubbish - chicken turds and compost that make our soil a little more fit for the planting, that make our hearts a little more tender and able to swallow the seed. The tragedies that plague our history, the imperfections that shadow who we are, the constant feeling in our heart that the world is not as it should be they all serve as signposts that only prove our need for a living seed to take root. They drive us to take the seed in deeper.
Faith and The Kingdom
Jesus said if we have the faith of a mustard send, we can tell a mountain to move from one place to another, and it will move. That nothing would be impossible for us with only the faith of a mustard seed.
Jesus assures his disciples that the Kingdom of God is like that mustard seed, which a man took and sowed in his field. It is a small seed, smaller than any other seed, but when it is full grown it towers over every other plant in the garden. And the birds of the air come and nest in the result of a seed that they once could have gobbled up.
So the Kingdom, the reign and rule of God, comes in our lives as He plants the seed of faith in our hearts and causes it to grow (as he speaks his word, for faith comes by hearing).
As the redemptive seed and life of the crucified and resurrected Jesus take root we can expect a slow sprouting of towering trees. The Kingdom comes.
The Harvest
For now, the garden is imperfect. The wheat grows with the chaff and there are wide gaps between the present shape of things and the blueprint of Eden.
After the resurrection, Mary Magdalene mistook Jesus for the gardener,
but maybe she was not too far off
as he helps us tend our soil and plants himself as the seed.
The world will mistake him until the end,
but in the end he will take off his leather gloves and coveralls.
He will beat his ploughshare into a sword
and there will be no mistaking him.
The world will hit its knees to the chorus of, "Surely this is the Son of God!"
He will call us by name, as sons and daughters of God,
and we will cry out, "Rabboni!"
The chaff will be burned, the wheat will be harvested and brought into the barn, and then the righteous will shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. He who has ears let him hear.'
For you have been born again not of seed which is perishable, but imperishable, that is, through the living and abiding word of God. 1 Peter 1.23
References:
Matthew 13
1-9 The Parable of the Sower
18-23 The Parable of the Sower Explained
24-30 The Weat and the Chaff
31-32 The Kingdom of Heaven as a mustard seed.
John 20:15
Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?" Supposing Him to be the gardener, she said to Him, "Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away."
Jesus said to her, "Mary!" She turned and said to Him in Hebrew, "Rabboni!" (which means, my dear Teacher).
For the past sixteen months, God hasn't let me move too far away
from the idea and truth that he is my father. I am constantly
surprised by how good of a father he is, and the idea of what it means
to be a father is always ripe and percolating in my brain.
The fact that God gives his children to earthly parents and trusts
them to demonstrate his character in really tangible ways really blows
my mind (providing for them, loving them, disciplining them, and
reminding them that they are wanted and needed here on earth - not
because anything they've done, but because of who they are and who wove
them together)...
There are plenty of thoughts in my head on this topic. I could
write a strange book about it. Who knows maybe I will. But for now I
am tired of writing, and I am not a father (or a mother). So I want to
pass the pen to you.
The Assignment
What I'm asking is this: If you are a parent - take some time and
think of ways God has taught you about himself through the experience
of parenting - fathering or mothering.
Whether it was through preparing yourself for the due date, the
first time you saw their little face, the sleepless nights of the early
years, the temper you couldn't (or still can't) keep down, the fear of
failure, the time they spouted infinite wisdom from five year old lips,
the beautiful moments where you just couldn't contain your love, the
days you had to ask for forgiveness for being wrong, the times you
wanted to fix everything but couldn't, the time they grew up while you
were at the grocery store.... What do I know? I'm just trying to jog
your brain.
Don't rush it, but sit down with a pen and paper and spend some
time reflecting on it. You can stop there if you want, but I would
love it if you e-mailed me some of those stories and lessons. It would
be good for my heart right now.
I don't care how bad of a writer you think you are. I don't care
how boring of a story you think it is. I'm more interested in learning
from you than giving you a Pulitzer Prize, so rest easy and be honest.
Even if you don't pass it my way, I think its still a worthy
assignment - and you should consider passing your kids a copy or having
the conversation with them. They'd love to hear all about the things
they've taught you and the ways God has used them to 'convert' you, as
Jesus would say (Matthew 18.1-6).
Whatever age they might be creeping towards, I think its a
beautiful thing for a kid to know that God is using them to teach and
mold their parents. It tells them that they're not a burden. It makes
them feel valuable and reminds them they have a purpose. It teaches
them that God is using them now - not waiting until they are 18 or
eligible to be a deacon. And these are all things that God wants his
kids to know.
I think it is also a good exercise in humility for a parent. A
good reminder that God is using the weak to lead the strong, the
foolish to shame the wise, and that unless we are striving to become
like children we just don't get it - and the kingdom of God might be
further than we think.
I am twenty-three and all of my words come from observations and
small tastes rather then experience. So forgive me if any of these
words or ideas seem pretentious or shallow to the seasoned bunch of you.
But really, you have no idea how much I am looking forward to your e-mails.
I live in a hungry valley, an open mouth turned up towards heaven. It swallows the rain and most days its humid like the back of your throat. Somedays clouds roll in and let the valley catch its breath. Cool air from the mountains drifts in and dries out the sweat of your skin.
The rain brings a green that blinds you. It spreads out for miles, and life comes in spite of the heat. Sunsets come in kaleidescope colors to greet the tide of the hills - and you can hear the LORD say, "It is good."
There are shadows in the hills - dark, dirt roads that pass through miles of farmland and scattered homesteads. Cattle pass along the roads, shit while they stare at you, dare you to drive past - goats scramble in the ditches, not quite round enough to be eaten. These are the hills of passing fathers and dying widows. These hills are orphans themselves. Lonely backdrops for lonely deaths.
Life expectancy here is dropping fast - maybe around twenty-eight years old. Unemployment is at forty percent, and higher in rural areas; over forty percent of the population has AIDS (probably closer to half). Death runs in the blood and gets passed through ripe ignorance, innocent inheritance, oppressive expectations, and a tired hopelessness. In a nation where it feels like you can breathe the virus in, where half the folks you know are dying and poverty has an appetite of its own - the window seems slim to escape. Death seems inevitable, no matter the way it comes.
But there are lights in these hills - people who have met the resurrected Jesus, been transformed, and seen the Kingdom face to face. They have a new song in their mouth and they sing with a passion and hope that bleeds through in a congregation of harmony. They are deep people. They grieve deeply, hope deeply, and groan deeply for redemption to kiss the shadows around them. The valley groans too, deeply, from the back of its throat.
I lay awake at night in the valley and stick to my sheets. I can see the city through the window at my feet. But I think about myself more than I think about the city, I fear my own pride and weakness more than any AIDS epidemic, and some days I only love the fatherless because their loneliness reminds me of my own.
In all these things there is a taste of the Fall. Everything from my deep self-obsession and insecurity to the tears of orphans and disintegrating young women- it all bears the echo of the Liar and Accuser - bits of death and hell.
Somehow all of this time of being in Africa, all of this time of being alive, is about learning to hope - to look past the dump of the world and the card tricks of the enemy to see what is unseen: the father with fierce fists and open arms poised to lose everything and stop at nothing just to bring us home, the Father whose ears prick at the sound of orphan cries and whose blood boils when no one answers.
So I'm fighting for faith like Abraham.
In hope he believed against hope, that he should become the father of many nations, as he had been told, "So shall your offspring be."
He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was as good as dead (since he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah's womb.
No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised. That is why his faith was "counted to him as righteousness."
But the words "it was counted to him" were not written for his sake alone, but for ours also. It will be counted to us who believe in him who raised from the dead Jesus our Lord, who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification.
After a year and a half in Africa I feel like I write the same blog over and over again: light vs. dark; the tug of orphans at my own heart and the heart of God; the brief, beautiful reminders of redemption and the confident, if impatient, longing for full redemption; the ever deepening "amen. come, Lord Jesus." that comes in the last strokes of scripture and in every moment we feel the bite of the world.
It all adds up to a moment I can't get out of, or, perhaps, the moment we all find ourselves in: the tension that comes between the resurrection and the kingdom fully come.
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I shall know fully just as I have been fully known. - Paul (the fierce terrorist who met fiercer grace)
Thanks for reading these things.
Your eyes must be burned out by now. If I was something more financially rigged than a missionary we could all go to the optometrist on my dime, at the same time even, one big party of getting our sight back and comparing prescriptions. I'd get some glasses like Elvis Costello and you could try something slick like disposable contacts.
Just a quick check-in- a longer blog detailing the last month is in the works.
I
am safely in Swaziland, after a long drive from Cape Town, South Africa
to Manzini, Swaziland totaling around 30 hours. We arrived on January
3, hit the ground running and really haven't had much time to look back
since. Myself and three coleaders have been trying to get to know the
area, find ministry opportunities for our team, keep 17 participants
somewhat well-fed, and get things underway as soon as possible.
In the last two weeks we have been able to visit some incredible
ministry sites: long-term care facilities for AIDS/TB patients where
students can build relationships, cook, and take care of the sick; a
hospital; numerous orphan carepoints scattered throughout Swaziland; a
center that takes in street kids, educates them, and tries to teach
them profitable trades as they grow older... the list goes on and on.
Our team is currently trying to decide which ministries to commit to
for our time here.
It has been beautiful to watch them visit the ministries. We've been
into some really uncomfortable places in the last week and a half - and
in spite of fear, nervousness, language barriers, and awkwardness they
have been bold and creative in crossing those divides.
My tuberculosis is easing. They've lowered the prescription from 5
"horse pills" a day to 2 pills about the size of a Mentos. So thanks
for all your prayers.
Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. I would write a few pages about how
much I still love Martin Luther King, Jr. and how profound his words
still are - but I will just refer you to last years post and ask you to
read it again.
I suppose since we Obama is taking the Big Chair he hasn't been so
overlooked this year. Whatever the case - don't think a black
president is the completion of King's dream, the end of the world, or
the solution to the world problems.
For all you Republicans - don't get your panties in a wad over a Democrat being in office.
For all you Democrats - don't get cocky or be so naive as to believe everything to be solved because a democrat is in office.
Stop doing so much talking about things, lay down your figerpointing
games, and take some resposibility for the nation around you.
May you eat the gospel for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
and may it lead you to love your neighbors, love your enemies,
and seek the Father's Kingdom more than your own and more than any American dream.
In the midst of all of this 'missionary' business there are times when life starts to seem rather complicated. I've never believed that life was complicated. Two people in this world have the antithesis, 'life.is.simple,' tattooed on their arms in my handwriting - a testimony to a time in my life when I was almost militant about life's simplicity and making it known.
I still believe its simple. But every now and then things pile up in front of you.
Everything from the big ideas:
- the tension of relationships
- the ugliness of poverty
- the loneliness that gets so hard to shake
- the darkness of your own heart
- the sinking feeling of unbelief and little faith
to the menial parasites of day to day life:
- car trouble (or worse, bicycle trouble!)
- this mean cough (its breaking up)
- to-do lists that read like ancient scrolls
- the spot your forgot to shave
- the stain on your t-shirt (that has outsmarted Tide-to-Go, SHOUT, and the whole family of stain removers)
They all get together and put on a complicated parade complete with marching bands playing death marches and blimp sized balloons of Snoopy's evil twin. All of it leads you to fear and worry. It makes your heart sink and turns your faith into something like a whoopee cushion. There's not much hope for stepping around them and you can't keep your eyes off. You start to feel stuck and you get a bit myopic. "Maybe life is a bit more complicated than I thought," you think. And you think, and you think, and you think.
Then there are days in this 'missionary' business where life just seems so incredibly simple that you start to wonder why you ever started watching that damn parade. Its not that the parade is over, its just that something makes you turn around.
A friend sticks around on the day you feel like Mr. Potter, the sunset sneaks up on you and makes your jaw drop, street kids show you grace when you break your promises again and again. Somehow the love of God makes itself known - taps you on the shoulder, whistles from somewhere behind you, and gets you to take your eyes off of Droopy Snoopy and the Death Star house band.
You start realize there's another parade going on in the alley that revolves around mustard seeds and underdogs. The music is a little out of tune and everyone's out of step but its a really good song - the best song - and every now and then it all comes together. The melody breaks through at the same time as the sun and you know that its all headed towards redemption. The gospel becomes bright and clear and Jesus is on the bullhorn saying, "See, I am making all things new."
God makes a parade out of creation. "Look, child! I feed the birds. I make outfits for the grass. I'll take care of you, you can count on that. You're worth everything to me. So come into the place where I rule. Come find your place in my kingdom. The rest is mine to worry about."
Therefore I tell you,
do not be anxious about your life..
do not be anxious, saying,
'What shall we eat?' or
'What shall we drink?' or
'What shall we wear?'
For the Gentiles seek after all these things,and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.
But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
I keep trying to do my math according to this equation, to keep life simple, to make my one aim to seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness. I'm trying to stop pretending that I'm an orphan - thinking that I need to take care of myself, look after my own needs, hoard manna in case God doesn't provide tomorrow. I'm learning to trust again. I'm trying to leave the parade of the world for the kingdom.
I'd be silly to to think that Droopy Snoopy won't still creep in overhead and bring his shadows,
and the Death Star house band will probably learn more distracting songs, and play them louder and louder.
But I'd be a fool to think my Father won't provide.
I'd be a dead man to think his love can't trump the world's parade.
We're nearing the two month mark over here. In many ways it feels like
we've been here a lot longer. In fact I can't even write that first
sentence without feeling like I'm doing bad math...
The students
are all in the full swings of their ministries. My team is learning
the ups and downs of the kids at the Joshua Project, and they are doing
an incredible job of it. Its exciting to watch some of the students
really stepping out to bring new energy and ideas to their ministries.
Using their own gifts to add to what's already there.
We're in the process of finalizing the teams that we will be in once January hits. It looks like I will be in Swaziland, a small kingdom that leeches off of the Northeast border of South Africa. I spent a week there last year (you can read about it here). Its a beautiful country - rural in a lot of ways, mountains all over the place; but it's a dark place - the AIDS rate in Swaziland is over 40% (the highest of any country in the world), witchcraft is pretty rampant, and the government is quite shaky, but on a positive note - it's where Coca Cola gets a lot of sugar for really cheap.... All of the teams that are coming together look amazing, and I am incredibly excited about the Swazi team. Swaziland will be a tough place to lead and do ministry, but I have a lot of faith in the team that I'm being given. God seems to have dumped a lot of grace out there.
My cough has carried through the last five weeks, but I think we've
finally found the medicine to kick the old joker. This is brilliant
news, because I am tired of being holed up in my house - quarantined
and coughing up a lung - away from all the students and ministries.
As you can imagine. Sickness makes for a bad update. I've spent
most of my days watching bad movies, perfecting sandwich recipes,
sitting in the yard, walking to the gas station for exercise, and
wishing I had a dog. I feel like an old man.
On the good days I've been able to think a lot. I've been spending a lot of time in John, right before Jesus gets betrayed (13-17). Jesus' last conversation with the disciples before the resurrection - the last supper, the foot washing, the disciples not seeming to understand much, the promise of the Holy Spirit. Its good, thick stuff. In the last week I was asked to lead communion and teach on the Holy Spirit, so that's only dug me further into the text.
Sickness and sitting around all day have left my brain pretty mushy - so standing me in front of people to teach for a few hours is a strange idea. But I think things have gone well, and that people have learned, and that regardless of my babbling the Spirit has pushed me aside and done some teaching of his own. I'm grateful for that.
I wish there was more to update you about. I'm sure there is more than I'm letting on. But for now pray that this sickness would continue to fade out - and that I would be able to ease my way back into life and responsibilities here. I feel like I've missed out on a lot. Getting refocused will be hard, and having enough energy to do it well will be another challenge.
But the Father has been good. He's been showing up in subtle ways and providing the things that I need - things I don't even know that I need. I pray that He's doing the same for you.
We made it to JeffreysBay about two weeks ago.We spent a few days getting settled and
reacquainted with the town, and then spent the weekend camping out in the
bush.It was a cold weekend.We zipped our sleeping bags tight and built
campfires every chance we got.Its
winter here in Africa most mornings we woke
up it was around thirty-two degrees.
It's strange to be back.Things aren't quite the way I left them.Some of my friends are in prison, some have disappeared, and some are
worse off than when I left them.It
feels like the darkness that hangs over this place is heavier than before.All of that hit pretty hard in the first few
days but God keeps reminding me that he's still here.
My friends that are still around haven't shut me out.They still trust me and
listen to me to some extent.I'm learning all of the
things that have changed in the world of the street kids the hard stories
about cold weather, rejection, power struggles, rape but the basics are the
same.There are somewhere around fourteen
boys in this town in desperate need of fathers and the Father all hoping for
redemption, whether they know it or not.
God has shifted my heart a lot in the last few months. I
still have a flood of compassion for the street kids.It has been a sweet, sweet thing to see them
again and to get back into those relationships.But this go round my ears are a little less tuned into their cries.The focus of my ministry has shifted from the
boys on the street to the students in the FYM program; but that's a difficult
thing to explain to a bunch of streetkids that own some pretty sizable chunks
of my heart.Sorry boys, you've moved down the food chain once again.I'm glad that God's ears aren't any less
tuned to their cries, and I'm praying that He'll walk me through all of this
shifting.
Discipleship
I'm discipling three of the guys from the team on a weekly
one-on-one basis.We meet up once a week
to study scripture, to talk through the celebrations and struggles of ministry,
and to vent the frustrations in living in small spaces full of lots of
people.It's the thing that Adventures
in Missions does really well, and it's the place where we're praying to really
see the students grow and come to a deeper understanding of what it means to
follow Jesus.
The guys I'm discipling are: Kevin King, Matthew Hussey, and
Tyler Bussanich.Pray that God will grow
our relationships in a deep way, that all three of them would be challenged and
encouraged by that relationship, and that God would give me wisdom as to which
pieces of their lives need to be rooted up and which pieces that need to be
poured into and called out.That they
might become the people God has called them to be, more than the kinds of
people I want them to be.
Ministry Teams
Our teams have started visiting and assisting in their
ministries.My team is at Joshua
Project, where I worked last year.Others are at ministries ranging from kids to clinics to care centers
for children born with disabilities and deformities.The teams are doing well.They've been pushed hard, they haven't had
much of a break since we got here, and they've handled it really well.
Rest
Some of the team has been run a little ragged.There is some sickness going around, and
we're all pretty tired.Ive been feeling
a bit flu-ish the last few days and running a fever.Pray
for rest the good kind.Not just a
good night's sleep, but the kind of rest that goes deep and makes you feel new
again - the rest that comes under God's wings.We need a lot of that.
Fire ants are terrible. Really, really terrible. They are practically gnawing my feet off.
The Holy Spirit is incredible. (and so is Benadryl Itch Stopping Cream)
The Skinny
The team is in - all 41 of them. It was overwhelming at first, but I'm starting to warm to all of them. Its been a wild week of watching them open up and lay out the things in their lives that have been choking them for a while, the things that get in the way of living and being alive. Abusive pasts, addictions to anything and everything, pride, the approval we start to look for under every rock. God shows up as those things come out - as we take everything we've kept in the dark and let Him shine his light on it.
Redemption = Good Day
Today my heart was pretty heavy. I woke up to a voicemail from a friend, apologizing for missing my call and letting me on some pretty bad family news. It weighed on me all day. We went out and did ministry today - tried to meet some families in a Hispanic neighborhood. I was a million miles away - thinking about my friend, thinking about her family, thinking about all kinds of things and people that I'm leaving behind.
To be honest it shut me down. During worship I couldn't really even bring myself to sing. I paced the back of the room praying and asking God to redeem things, restore things, mend broken relationships, hold people together.
Once worship was over we moved into team time. 41 of us in a circle, and there really wasn't much of a plan. We were going to play a game and go to bed, but God kind of twisted the plan around. I shared about how my day had gone - heavy heart and hung up on other things. Last year I was leaving behind really close friends, a really sick grandpa, and a friend who called me every weekend crying drunk and giving up on life. It was really hard to leave them behind, to give up any kind of control in those situations and dive into all new relationships and ministry on the other side of the world. So we asked if anyone had for the next couple of hours I watched God redeem a day that I thought had been lost. I asked the team to share things that were hard to leave behind. Story after story hit the floor of people back home who needed them in some way - people they felt like they were failing by leaving behind - people they weren't sure would still be alive when they come home - people in really hard places - and just, flat out, simple people who love them well. It broke my heart. And for every story - another teammate prayed for the situations.
We ended the night praying that God would break our hearts for every other member of the team - that as we head out to dig into the lives of people in South Africa, we wouldn't neglect digging into the lives of our team - in spite of tired we are or how irritating the other person is. That we could be like Jesus and cry with eachother, but also point each other to hope and the gospel.
We read Psalm 126 and took hope in the fact that as we go out, the tears we cry might take root and eventually yield some crops, a harvest that stirs up a song in our hearts and turns our joy into laughing - by the grace of God.
It's not surprising. Everyone is carrying a lot. And slowly we are learning to carry eachother.
We leave for the airport at 4:30 am Monday morning. Pray for good pilots, good airplane food, and good rest. I can't believe how soon I will be in Africa. I am terribly excited.
I like the idea of titling my blog with song titles. We'll see how long it lasts. I'll make it even more interesting. The first one to post the original artist of the song will win a prize. A very good prize. [You can challenge a winner by listing two artists who have covered the song (but this will only win if I like the cover version better than the original)]. I hope all of that was clear. This week is easy (see figure 1-a)
Training Camp III
I am in Georgia right now at training camp, for the third time in one year. Right now its just us leaders, sleeping in plywood cabins, showering with garden hoses, being beckoned to meals by a dinner bell. We're being trained so that we can better lead for the next nine months. Its been fun to see old friends and to get to know the leadership team for my trip. I'll update more once the participants get here.
Speedy Delivery?
A few people have asked for my African mailing address, so I figured I'd post it here:
Matthew Spainhour
PO Box 921
Jeffreys Bay, South Africa 6330
I love mail. [I also love Mr. Rogers (see figure 2-a)]. Nothing makes strange days feel like Christmas more than a package or letter. I've been mailed everything from music boxes and children's books, to letters written in mirror image and a single sudoku puzzle (and I don't even do sudoku puzzles). One thing: if you do send packages, and they ask you to specify the value of the contents, specify the contents to be as close to $0.00 as possible. It makes things a little cheaper on my end - as we have to pay a tax to pick up packages.
(the phrase "speedy delivery" is merely a tribute and a joke. it will probably take a long time.)
Monday I got on a plane and headed home for some good old fashioned American medicine and spinal care. I got off the plane and headed straight for the local ER. I spent most of the week in Fair Oaks Hospital. The Tuberculosis earned me a spot in isolation and a few lung x-rays to make sure I wasn't a threat. The doctors kept me hooked up to some steady painkillers, took CT-Scans and MRI's of my back, confirmed that the vertebrae was compressed to about 50% of its normal size and fractured into a lot of pieces. Surgery was ruled out, I was fitted for a backbrace, went through some minor physical therapy, and the next month is going to be a blur of laying on my back a lot and living in a back brace.
