The λογος Affect

Two worlds meet

2010-09-24T09:12:00.000-07:00

I don’t really understand a lot of the imagery used in the Bible. They are stories and examples from another world. I understand the ideas but I don’t REALLY relate; I can’t close my eyes and picture myself listening to Jesus tell stories and thinking to myself “Yeah I didn’t catch any fish last night.” Or “hmmm, maybe I should start treating the beggar outside my gate like a real person instead of a nuisance.” At least I couldn’t relate to these things before I moved to Bangladesh.

Over the last 2000 years technology has changed, the roads look different, and now the buildings are a little taller here, but the culture, the social structure, and the attitudes I see here, they are the same ones I read about Jesus being surrounded by.

I see the people and scenarios from that other world played out right here in my world and these stories now have faces and emotions and I relate to them and they become so much more real and special to me. I’ll share with you some of the most alive of these stories from that other world.

As Jesus entered Jericho there was a blind man sitting near the road, begging. When the blind man heard it was Jesus coming he cried out for help! He had heard that Jesus had done some amazing things, even healed blind people. The other people told this unimportant beggar to be quiet, not to bother the important rabbi that was walking past. Jesus stopped walking and healed the man that the others regarded as unimportant, and unworthy to get near the rabbi. Daily I see blind people sitting by the side of the road begging. When I read about this man calling out to Jesus I see the young blind man by that tree he always sits under; sometimes he jumps up and down or yells things to get attention. I see the old blind man at the intersection, led around by his daughter or grandson to get a few cents while the cars are stopped at the light, or the group of blind people that stand on the bridge near my neighborhood. Every now and then I’ll hear a blind person slowly walking down the road next to my office yelling “Allah! Allah! Allah!” letting people know he is there and needs money, crying out to Allah for mercy. These are the faces I see and voices I now hear when I read stories of blind people in the scripture.

I recently visited the ocean. There most of the villagers make their living by fishing. Many of the markets I bought souvenirs in stunk of the fish markets nearby that were full of fresh and dried fish. As I walked along the beach early one morning I counted 34 small wooden boats a few hundred yards off shore casting their nets trying to catch enough fish to sell that day; a scene I imagine to be common in Jesus’ day. I saw a group of men with casting nets trying to catch a few fish near the shore. As I spoke with one, he said they hadn’t caught anything…he blamed the calm sea. I thought of Peter, James, and John who hadn’t caught any fish all night when Jesus called them to follow Him. Now when I read about Jesus hanging out with fisherman, I see the wooden boats, I smell the fish market, and I see the sun darkened faces of ignoble men.

Towards the end of Ramadan when we were nearing the first Eid (celebration at the end of the month of fasting) thousands of beggars from the villages came to Dhaka in hopes that in this season of generosity they could make some extra money. I got to my gate one evening and there was a beggar sitting on a stool asking for money. My first thoughts were negative, wondering why he was in front of MY gate, and why didn’t someone tell him to go away, beggars aren’t allowed here…then I thought of the rich man who “ate sumptuously” and of Lazarus, the old poor man with sores who sat outside of the rich man’s gate. I was ashamed at my thoughts.

In one particular downtown area I go often there are dozens of beggar children. My heart breaks for these kids that this is the only life they know, that they are abused and taken advantage of, and that they aren’t in school. All those things aside, it can be annoying when they follow me down the street saying “boss, boss, boss, give me money, give me money.” They don’t go away, they follow me, they tug at my pant leg, I’ve had small children bear hug my leg and take a ride for a few steps. I react many different ways depending on my mood, the kid’s age, whether or not I’ve seen them before, and whether or not I think money will go to their family or to a pimp. Many times a shop owner or a guard will yell at the kids and tell them to leave me alone. I’ve gotten used to the kids and most of them recognize me. I don’t mind them much, I smile and talk to most of them. I recently thought about the kids that came to Jesus one day. The disciples yelled at them and told them to go away. I always assumed these kids were affluent people’s children who didn’t have school that day, but they would have been with their affluent parents and not have been rebuked right? Maybe. Now I think they were more like the 10 yr old that always tries to sell me books of little mermaid and Dora stickers, the 8 yr old that desperately wanted me to buy an Argentina flag from him, the 9 yr old girl trying to sell me a flower she picked from the hotel flowerbed, the 7 year old and his sister that wanted to sell me a baby bird, the 4 yr old that thought it was fun to grab onto my leg and see how far he could go for a ride, or the dozens of other children that just follow me around asking for money. Jesus put the affluent adults aside, rebuked his disciples and He called these children over. He took a knee or sat on the ground at their level, He asked their names and how old they were. He ruffled their hair, He healed their boo boos, and He blessed them.

These are some of the many stories that seem to jump off the pages of scripture and unfold before my eyes.

In the world I grew up in I never saw many blind people begging by the side of the road, or fisherman cleaning the nets they make a living by, nor did I have beggars sitting at my gate, and I didn’t have beggar children tugging at my pant leg. But living here in this world, and in this culture that isn’t so different from the culture in Jesus’ time, it has made the stories of His life become so much more real to me.

Attacked by 3 with guns and cleavers; God's goodness

2010-09-09T12:06:00.000-07:00

Normally I don't carry valuables with me after dark unless I'm in a well populated, well lit areas. Tonight I let down my guard.

5:30pm I left the office on the other side of town. Its the weekend so I had all my work notebooks, personal notebooks, my laptop, camera, and ipod in my backpack; basically everything I have in Bangladesh that is worth anything. Normally I would go straight home and drop off any valuables I didn't need before going out anywhere, but I had a meeting on that side of town, followed by meetings on my side and knew I wouldn't be home for a while.

5:45pm Met with a friend for iftar, dinner, business, and general conversation.

7:15pm Took the overcrowded local bus back towards my side of town.

8:00pm Followed a friend's directions to one of the foreigner clubs. I've never been to this particular club which ended up being down a long dark side road. I talked on Skype with my lovely girlfriend for a good hour then joined 3 friends downstairs in the restaurant for a second dinner. (foreigner clubs are places foreigners can go hang out with other foreigners, swim, work out, eat western food, escape the craziness, etc)

11:00pm We decided it was time to go so we walked out of the club. My 3 friends hopped on a rickshaw and headed south. The other rickshaws wanted outrageous rates to take me north so I decided to walk back down the long dark road about 5 minutes to the main road because it was such a nice evening. I was responding to a text message (another thing I never do late at night on the road because I'm not aware of my surroundings) and made it about 1 minute down the road when there was a man in my path yelling. I looked up to see an angry man with a pistol pointed at me. I looked across the street and there were 2 or 3 guys with knives taking purses and wallets from my friends who had just left me. Strangely I felt really calm. I put my phone back in my pocket and stood still as I assessed the situation and my surroundings. I took a step toward the guy holding my hands out motioning "easy, easy." He didn't like that and 2 friends joined him each holding large meat cleavers. I backed up slowly towards the gate of an apartment building and asked the night guard to open the gate. They wouldn't budge and just peeked around a concrete column as the man with the gun pointed it back and forth at my chest and then my head, yelling that the wanted my bag and money.
I had my back to the gate, a cleaver guy on my left, another on my right, and a guy with a gun in front of me. The two with the cleavers started reaching towards my pockets and grabbing my backpack with their free hands; I swatted them away. When I hit their arms away from me, they started swinging the cleavers, and then kicking at me. As I danced and dodged cleaver swings and feet I realized they were scared more than I was because they didn't just attack me outright, but surrounded me just swinging and kicking at me. I made a dangerous bet that the gun wasn't loaded because why would a man with a loaded gun look so scared and just kick at me? I almost laughed at him holding a gun, but trying to kick me as if that would add to push me over the edge and intimidate me. I was still very calm and was sizing the 3 up trying to decide whether to grab the gun, or to grab one of the cleavers and risk the gun not being loaded. I thought, judging from their size and the fear in their eyes, that if I got a weapon from one of them I could run them off, maybe even get my friend's bag back. This thought actually went through my head: "If the gun isn't loaded, it would be useless and I might get hit with 2 cleavers while taking it; if the gun isn't loaded and I go for a cleaver, I may only get hit with 1 cleaver...but if the gun is loaded that would be bad..."

As I'm thinking through which weapon to grab the gunman pointed the gun in the air and pulled the trigger. I heard the distinctive CLICK of a dry fire. He then was fumbling with the gun trying to chamber another round. I dodged a couple swings of the cleavers then I pulled out my wallet and said in Bangla "ok, ok, I'll give you some money." He pointed the gun back at me and I couldn't tell if he'd chambered a round. I handed 1 of the cleaver guys a 1000 taka note, about $14USD. He turned and ran toward their car. The men with the gun and cleaver turned to see where he was going. In the split second they turned their heads I turned around leaped over the 8 ft gate that the night guards wouldn't open for me. At least safe from the cleavers and them grabbing my backpack. Once I was out of reach I saw the men jump in their car and run. As I was thinking about who I could call and get a ride home from two policemen pulled up on a motorcycle. My moneyless friends had found the police at the corner of the next block and told them they had just been mugged (they never saw me or the gunman on the other side of the street.) I climbed back over the gate, yelled and pointed and the police followed the car.
During my dancing and cleaver dodging Australian couple had pulled up to their apartment expecting to go home but saw the last half of the mugging. They asked what happened and if I was ok... I said I think I'm fine. They asked where I was headed and then gave me a ride home.
I got home still trying to figure out if that had really just happened! It seemed quite unreal. I dropped my bag (still with all of my valuables in it), pulled out my phone to resume my text message and noticed a large, precise crack in the side of the phone. I assumed it had actually cracked one of the many times I'd dropped it. I went to put it back into the sleeve and the sleeve looked like it had been cut with scissors...I looked at my pants and they also had been cut. Apparently my dancing skills are lacking and one of the swings of the cleaver actually hit my leg, but the sharp blade was stopped by my cell phone. At that point the delayed adrenaline rush hit me and I thought "HOLY CRAP, I WAS JUST ATTACKED BY A GUNMAN AND 2 MEN WITH CLEAVERS." I was what we call a bit shaken up.

I credit God for keeping me safe from men with guns and cleavers. When I was looking down the barrel of the pistol and felt that strange peace and calmness, I knew nothing was going to happen and I wouldn't lose anything. I didn't hear an audible voice, but I felt God's presence and his calmness and I knew it was going to be ok. I'm thankful I was on foot and more mobile. He gave me wisdom in knowing when to talk and refuse the guys and when to give a little money. I thank him that the 1 cleaver man jogged away and the others turned to see where he was going. I thank God that He gave me the calmness of mind throughout and the sense to jump over the gate to safety when I had the chance. I'm thankful I didn't lose anything other than $14. I'm thankful He protected me from physical harm. I thank Him the police came (a little later than ideal, but they showed) and muggers left. I thank Him that the Australians came home at just that instant and were willing to give me a ride home. I've been asking God to let me see Him work in this place and while I was expecting something different, He definitely showed me that He is real and that He is watching out for me.

Libraries

2010-08-21T08:10:00.000-07:00

In January's survey trip I met a pastor in northern India that impressed me. He impressed me not because of his charisma, his large church, or anything I saw upon meeting him; but rather after talking to this pastor and the people around his village I saw a humility and a Christ-likeness that I hadn't yet seen in the dozen other pastors I'd met in South Asia. Most pastors I had met wanted to talk about themselves, or preached a watered down gospel, or just said some nice things people wanted to hear. This pastor wanted to talk about Jesus and church planting and discipling other believers.
Out of curiosity to see what this effective man of God was reading, I asked to see his library. It had maybe 10 books, mostly Bibles. Some books were in English, some were in Hindi or Punjabi. This particular pastor speaks and reads English very well and said he wanted some more books. I said that if I ever came back, I would bring him some good books; not knowing at the time that I would actually get to fulfill this promise.

When it worked out for me to return to South Asia, I knew that at some point I would be able to travel back to this village and see this pastor so I made a list of some books I thought would be good: MacArthur commentary, ESV study Bible, Systematic Theology... I told a couple elders at church about my plan to give this pastor some books and asked if they had any other recommendations. The elders ended up adding to my list and buying all of the books for him!
A few weeks ago I was able to travel to this brother's village! In May I left the books in Delhi India with a friend, and when I saw them again I remembered just how many there were and got really excited again! We put them in a huge bag to take to him.
We got there around lunchtime. In my opinion, his wife makes the best Indian food and chai tea in all of India. After lunch and tea I told him I had a gift from my church and myself. I pulled out all these books that I think doubled his library. He didn't really know what to say but I could tell he was excited and grateful. For some reason unbeknownst to me, Indians don't smile in pictures, but in the photo of him and the books, he has a huge grin!
It was great to see him again and hear of all the new people becoming part of the Kingdom, people being baptized, people being discipled, and churches being planted. With all the crazy theology floating around South Asia, its good to know God is using this man to preach the Word. I hope that these new resources help him continue to learn and preach the Bible.

Snapshot

2010-08-14T22:43:00.000-07:00

I haven't written an update in a while. I've been busy, but its mostly because the new life where everything is different, weird and cool, is now just normal everyday life.

This is a bit random but here's an update of whats been going on in my 'normal' life the last month.

The boss left for a 3 month sabbatical so for a while I was the only foreigner working with the company side of things in the office. His boss came in for a month to help run things, and it was good to have another Westerner around. He's gone now though, so its me and a girl from Australia who just got back from a long vacation. I'm learning tons about international business and getting some great on hands experience.

There is an American aid organization that wants our company to open up some operations in some areas they are working in. Our pitch is that if they help us access the American market, we'll have to expand our operations and will go where they are working. They supposedly set up a time for us to do a presentation at the US embassy for the ambassador and some other important people with lots of connections. I spent days and put together this great presentation with video and pictures that I and 2 others were going to present and then the day before our appointment, the company called and said their was some miscommunication and we'd have to reschedule. Our boss gets back next month so I'll try and get it scheduled then. Miscommunication...such is life here.

Summer is a time that lots of people leave Bangladesh, so there haven't been that many people at church, and all the care-groups have been on hold so solid Christian fellowship has been slow. There is one Bengali brother (we'll call him Hassan) who I've spoken about before; he and I get together at least once a week to look at scripture and pray together. He is one of my best friends over here. He is really living the Christian life as a Muslim background believer. Its 'easy' for me to be a Christian here. I'm white, I'm from the West, everyone like that is a Christian in the minds of people here. Hassan is harrased at work for not going to the mosque with his colleagues, and harassed by his parents and in-laws for being a Christian. He thanks me for getting together with him and says it is a blessing and encouragement. I wonder though if its not me that is getting the bigger blessing. It is a gift from God to see this candle trying to burn so brightly amongst so much darkness. I'm glad that I can encourage him and pray with him.

I'm going to be a Bengali TV star. Somehow I met a famous Bengali writer/director/show host maybe equivalent to Regis Philbin. One of the shows he does a couple times a year features foreigners who dress up like Bengalis, do normal Bengali things and speak in Bangla. When about 30 of us went to rehearsal the night before shooting the show he asked who spoke good Bangla...one girl next to me pointed at me and said "He does." I don't think I speak great Bangla after 3 months here, but long story short I got the role with the most lines...all in Bangla! I stayed up late memorizing all my lines and was back at the studio the next morning for shooting. The show will air in the middle of September after Ramadan. I'm not sure if I want the extra popularity...we'll see what happens.

One of my neighbors, a German guy, is living here working on his masters thesis paper. The paper is about the difference between social work/business that is only socially motivated, and social work/business that is faith motivated. He wanted to interview me. For over an hour I answered questions about poverty, Bangladesh, development, the needs I see here, why I'm here, my goals, do I share my faith, and on and on. It was interesting, hopefully we'll get to spend more time together and have more discussions off the record.

Many of the relationships I formed with guys at Bible study have slowed down. They usually don't want to come to my side of town, and there's no good place to meet on their side. We've gotten together at some coffee shops recently and they keep turning the conversations "Can you help me get a job" or "Can you help me get a visa to the USA?" One of these guys I'm going to continue to meet with, the others...they need some prayer, I can only hear these questions so many times in a week. Its so obvious to me that there is a need for business as missions, all these young university graduates (and a couple million non-graduates) need jobs and thats the need they want to focus on and talk about before they talk about their need for a Savior. They don't see their need for a Savior, they only see their need for a job and for food. As I read the gospels I see Jesus time and time again meet a physical need and THEN after He has people's attention, He meets their spiritual need. In theory I can write off the needs around me and say "well, I can only meet so many" but in actuality, I can't! I see them, they call out to me for help, I can't help them, and it stresses me out and breaks my heart.

Every 3 months I have to leave the country because of my visa requirements so last week I went to India. It was a breath of fresh air (once I got out of Delhi.) Of course, I got to see Amanda and we had a great time. I stayed with some friends of her's I stayed with in January. It was cool to see them again and play with their kids. One night I went with one of the missionaries their to a church that has started in a nearby slum. Just before dark we wandered through the dirt streets amongst small brick buildings. Kids were playing with old tires, adults were cooking rice and lintels. 9 guys showed up as the power went out and we lost our 1 bulb we were using for light. We lit a candle and 2 guys had flashlights on their phones. I shared my story with the guys and they listened intently as someone translated. Then we talked about repentance and baptism and sang some songs in Hindi. It was great to see God building His church in the slums of northern India.
We did some stuff with the different people in her city most of the time, took a trip to the mountains for a couple days, but overall I just relaxed. It was a good break from work and life in Bangladesh.

I'm half-way done with my term here. In some ways its gone slow, others very fast. This week I'm going to do a sort of assessment of how I've achieved for not achieved the goals I've set for myself, and whether or not to adjust my focus for the last 3 months. Pray for me as I do this assessment and head into the last half of my term. God has done some cool things and I want to see Him do even more! I want to finish strong. For those who are supporting me financially, thank you, and please don't forget to actually do so. Thank you all for your prayers, support, and your emails/comments of encouragement.

Perspective

2010-07-16T08:43:00.001-07:00

Today some things had piled up and I was frustrated and I said "I don't like Bangladesh today." I spent the entire night on a less than comfortable bus, getting home around 7am. I then went to church, fought to stay awake, then had a 'normal' afternoon. I went to a shop where a week and a half ago I bought a water filter/dispenser. It was missing a piece so I took it back and have returned 3 times; each time he says "Come back ___ day and I will have the piece." I was quite annoyed that once again I'd made a special trip to the shop and he hasn't found it. He's willing to replace it with another model that is conveniently twice as expensive. He said come back tomorrow...if it's not ready I'll ask for my taka back and go somewhere else.
Back at the house I was going to make some salmon cakes I found at the store. I dropped the glass bottle of ketchup I was going to dip them in and had to clean glass and ketchup out of the kitchen. I tried to do a load of laundry and the power went out. The clothes soured so I had to start the wash over once the power came on. It went off again, but not for long so the clothes finished ok. Tonight I got on a rickshaw to come to the American club so I can have good internet. The police decided they weren't letting rickshaws go from one sector to the next and stopped me. The cop then stood there waiting on me to pay him a bribe so my rickshaw could go through. I angrily told him to go away, I wasn't paying him anything. I'd walk. I paid my rickshaw and walked 20ft and hopped on another one.

In the midst of frustration I felt the Spirit say to me "Really Bryan? These 'troubles' are getting to you? You're already getting agitated? Save a little injustice, you really have nothing to be annoyed at. I'm so much bigger than these things, get some perspective." I don't have to look far to get some perspective and realize I should be thankful. Just yesterday I walked through a leprosy hospital and talked with some patients while they soaked their ulcer covered feet; some were missing limbs. I should be thankful I can walk, have good health, and have access to good care. This morning on my way to church, I was surrounded by kids, women with infants, old men in wheel chairs, all begging me for money or food. They don't have clean water, or the money to buy a filter to eliminate the arsenic and diseases in the water they drink. Even though its taking a long time, I should be thankful I can access clean water. And the power? At least I have nice flat with a washing machine and AC. I have multiple clothes to wash as well! One of the rickshaws I took today, I see often. He is always wearing a white shirt that says "Ebenezer" on the back. As for the police wanting bribes, well, I told cop what I thought. I had to pay a few cents extra for taking 2 rickshaws, but I'm sure they each needed it more than I do. I could go on about beggars, homeless people, rape victims, girls forced into prostitution, people starving to death...Daily these are things I see, the people I meet, the people I'm here to help, and I want to complain? As I sit here quite comfortably now, what do I have to complain about? Nothing...

The pictures show a group of men I met at the leprosy mission. They are missing hands, feet, legs. They seemed happy enough to have a friend help them wrap their ulcers.

As much as I didn't like Bangladesh today, I am thankful for 'rough' days. It wasn't a nice thing to realize about myself, but it forces me get my mind off myself and realize how selfish I am; to put things in perspective.

The Commute

2010-07-02T06:07:00.000-07:00

I live and work in different parts of Dhaka. It's not a huge city space-wise, but it does take time when you want to go anywhere. There are so many people and so many different types of transportation that they conflict with each other. Anywhere there are rickshaws, they are in the way of cars, busses, and cng's. Drivers of vehicles have to go slow enough to dodge pedestrians and beggars; and manholes are literally random holes that a man could disappear into.

On an average day it takes me 30 minutes to get to the office from the house assuming I don't have to get on a rickshaw and hunt for an available cng that early in the morning. This last week was a normally abnormal week though.

Monday I got a cng from my street and we drove towards work like normal. About 2 miles from the office traffic stopped. After maybe 10 minutes of not moving, I decided it would be better to walk than to sit in the hot cng. I made it a few hundred yards and discovered the reason for the stalled traffic-stalled cars and cngs trying to drive through knee deep water. This part of the city has bad drainage canals and clogged drains so the nights rain was hanging out on the main road. I rolled up my pant legs and trudged on. Thankfully I didn't fall into any of the above mentioned man holes or open sewers that were hiding under the brown water. I made it to the office to find I was only the second one there. After some shops opened I went and bought a new pair of pants and changed out of my wet, now brown pair I'd walked to work in. Total commute: 1hour 40 minutes.
Tuesday I didn't feel well so I worked from home on some balance sheets and P&L statements.

Wednesday I took a rickshaw towards a town center until I found a cng, then off towards the office. About where I'd stopped on Monday due to water, we stopped again, traffic wasn't moving. I could hear large crowds yelling. The cng driver said he wasn't going any further and I decided I'd have to walk it again. This time there were floods of people in the street. Some were sitting, some were standing, others were throwing bricks at buildings and smashing out the windows, but they weren't letting traffic through. I have been warned to stay away from large angry crowds, but I thought "I'm so close to the office, let's go for it...and keep camera in hand." A few factories had closed and workers had not been paid so they were rioting. There were riot police with AK's, shotguns, and teargas. Somehow I walked through the crowds nearly unnoticed and made it to the office. Total commute: 1hr 30 minutes.

Such is life in Dhaka...

This is why I'm here

2010-06-25T02:48:00.000-07:00

Someone recently asked the question "Why has God brought you to Bangladesh?" The answer to that question may seem obvious for me, but there are so many things that I'm involved with, and so many other things I could and even want to do that it was good for me to stop and think about "Why HAS God brought me to Bangladesh?"
I know people who are here to learn language and they do it for hours each day. Some are here for jobs and they spend 60 hours a week at the office and making phone calls. Some say they are here to do ministry and they hang out at the clubs to meet people, or do things with some of the churches. Thousands of people work for NGOs doing every kind of relief, aid and social work known to man. I take language classes, I have a job, I'm involved in social work, and I think its all ministry...these are things I do but why am I here?
I told a colleague that I want people to know about their creator and to have a perfect relationship with Him. I want them to know that Christ came to free them from bondage and that He loves them more than anyone else could, and that He is the reason I am here. I said that if I help people have a better life, give them a job and a well being, but I never get to tell them about Christ, my time has been wasted. In that scenario the people I work with are no better off than the rich man at the end of the story Jesus told about Lazarus the beggar who sat outside the rich man's gate. She didn't agree my radical views.
A few weeks ago I went with a Bengali friend to go look at motorcycles. As we rode away on his motorcycle I asked how he was doing. He said "not so good." We ended up sitting under a tree on the side of the road talking about what was bothering him. Some serious things are going on in this brother's life and we had an amazing time discussing how God was the solution, and how God may be trying to grow him and his family and also use them in this hard time. I mostly listened but we talked about how his wife and kids are his first ministry, about persecution from family members, discipleship, and we spent some time praying together. We then resumed motorcycle hunting. After riding a few and reading too many articles involving 'killer buses' and motorcycles, I've decided against getting one. This brother and I have started meeting often to have coffee, discuss scripture together, and spend time in prayer together. Its a lot like discipleship; this is why God has put me in Bangladesh.
Another night I met with another MBB who wants to see more Muslims know Christ. Two of his Muslim friends joined us and they said they had a lot of questions. I invited their questions. First they asked what the difference b/t the Bible and the Qu'ran was. I've read enough of the Qu'ran to know about it, but assuming they know it better than I do I focused on the message of the Bible: the gospel! They were quite intrigued and said they want to know more about Jesus. I encouraged them to read the gospel of Luke saying that it would tell them all they need to know about Jesus and that we would meet together again soon as I'm sure it would create more questions. I love spending time with Muslims, and I love talking about my Jesus. This is why God has put me in Bangladesh.
These are some of the opportunities God has thrown my way. I pray that these relationships will continue. I pray there will be more like them, and I pray that HE will get the glory from them. Life here is AWESOME!

weekend in Sri Mongol

2010-06-19T04:47:00.000-07:00

Four of us boarded a train in Dhaka headed for Sri Mongol; a 4 hour ride to the tea area of Bangladesh. When we got off the train we instantly realized how clean the air was, and the temperature was much cooler than in Dhaka. We took off in a CNG towards some unknown location we were going to meet the owner of the guesthouse we’d stay in. As the open CNG zoomed through the tea fields, rice fields, and hills we breathed in deep the clean air and simply enjoyed not being stuck in traffic surrounded by millions of people and every mode of transportation known to man.

We met the guesthouse owner and followed him down a long windy village road surrounded by rice fields. We stopped and he said we’d have to walk half a kilometer because the driver wouldn’t be able to make it down the road since the rain made the roads navigable only by foot. We rolled up our pant legs, threw our bags on our shoulders and started walking. After 20 minutes of trudging and 2 of us falling into the mud, we arrived at the quaint little 2-bedroom guesthouse to find plenty 8 legged full time residents. We showered, ate a delicious traditional Bengali dinner, killed a few 8 legged pests, climbed under the mosquito nets and went to bed.

We woke up and headed out at 7 with a full day of touring planned. As we were hiking through the mud towards the paved road we happened upon a cng who offered us a ride. As the little 3-wheeler slithered along the muddy road I was sure we were going to take a swim in a rice paddy. Twice the vehicle got stuck and we had to get out and push it out of the mud. Eventually we managed to get out of the mud and to the bazaar where we met our tour guide for the day.

First we took about an hour-long trek through the rain forest, which was a very peaceful environment. We saw some different species of monkeys and a myriad of spiders of all sizes. We did have to dodge soccer ball size jackfruits that were falling from the trees like rain, some landing just feet away from us. In another part of the forest we got to meet an indigenous tribal group that had their own language and culture. One family invited us in for tea and made us try about a dozen different fruits that grow nearby. Then there was the policeman that wanted his picture taken. It was special to get to see these people in their own culture in the forest and to spend some time with them.

After the tribal area, we went to an area they call the heaven of Sri Mongol. It’s a large lake surrounded by hills covered in tea bushes. A tea worker pulled some lilly pad flowers out of the lake and gave them to the girls then followed us around wanting us to pay him for them. We then went to a world famous shop to have 7-layer tea where $1 will buy you a cup of tea that has 7 teas that stay separate from one another and all have different flavors. None of the teas were astounding and I think they kinda ran together when I sipped on it. It was worth the dollar to say I’ve had world famous 7-layer tea though.

Back at the cottage we watched a movie then went to bed. About 4am I woke up when I felt something wet on my foot. I grabbed the flashlight under my pillow and quickly determined there was nothing alive in bed with me but I was getting rained on. There was apparently a hole in the roof right above my feet and there was a torrential downpour hitting it from all angles. In a daze I decided my options were to sleep in the chair with no mosquito net or curl up in a tiny ball at the top of the bed where I wouldn’t be splashed from the puddle that was growing at my feet. When Pete woke up and looked over at my bed he said I looked quite funny curled up like a kid by my pillow, but I didn't care because I was dry and I got some sleep

On Friday morning we slept in and relaxed around the cottage. I got to do some reading. That afternoon we got in a sweet old jeep and went to the wetlands to do some boating in a traditional Bengali long wooden boat. I think the four-wheeling on the way to boating was just as fun! That evening we went to a village wedding we were invited to. We got there in time for some traditional music and dancing but at about 11pm when the ceremony hadn’t started and we hadn’t eaten dinner we decided to leave.

Now I’m back in Dhaka. I really enjoyed the clean air and the quiet of the village but I’m glad to be back. When I got back it really felt like home. I could make what I wanted for dinner, turn on the AC, drink some good coffee, and I won’t get rained on in my sleep.

Life goes on, but with no facebook.

2010-05-30T02:03:00.000-07:00

I've been in Bangladesh almost two weeks. Not much has changed since January except the temperature. This weeks forecast shows a high of 95, and almost as high humidity.
The first few days here I had some meetings with various staff, orientation, and some time to get settled in. It hasn't been to hard to jump back into life here. Friday was church, I went to 1 church in the morning and a different one in the evening; I want to go to one consistently, but need to find which one I can serve in.
Late Saturday night I embarked on what they call the suicide trip! Four of us from the office hopped on a bus about 11pm and arrived in Nilphamari about 7am Sunday morning. We spent all day there at the production site working on some design issues and modifications. After dinner and a shower, we hopped back on the bus and arrived back in Dhaka at 8am. Between the bumpy roads, passing and dodging other buses, the next seat reclining into my knees, I didn't sleep much on the bus. We were at the office at 11 but only worked a half day. I realized why they call it the suicide trip.
This week I was at the office most days. I'm getting used to the work and more clearly defining what all I'll be doing with Oasis.
I'm meeting more friends, but a lot of people are about to leave for the summer. Rick is leaving tonight to join his family in the states. I think it might get a bit lonely. Getting plugged into a church will be crucial.
I didn't go to the office today...the sickness finally got me. Its said that all foreigners get sick when they come to Dhaka. Some girls from the office were sick last week and today it was my turn. I spent most of the day lying around around the house with the AC on.

In other news, the entire country of Bangladesh has blocked Facebook. Some influential Muslim groups put pressure on the government to follow Pakistan's lead and shut the site down because of users posting caricatures of Muhammad. The story made the front page and they claimed it was shut down because of "offensive and lewd pictures."

Arrived in Dhaka

2010-05-18T09:44:00.000-07:00

Well, I am now in Dhaka, Bangladesh!

I left the states Tuesday last week and arrived in India on Wednesday. Neither of my trunks arrived with me. After 2 hours of talking with customs and Air India I was able to leave the airport with a piece of paper. I picked up some flowers and went to Amanda's coordinator's house (Amanda is my girlfriend serving a 2 year term in India.) After a bit Amanda arrived and it was a fun surprise! I spent a few days in another city with her and 5 other 2 year personnel. I had 3 changes of clothes, soap and my toothbrush! I bought some clothes and made it through the week ok. The average afternoon temperature ranged from 105 to 117 degrees Fahrenheit...THAT took some adjusting to. Sunday morning we had a nice service, and that evening we had about 12 Indians over to the house for dinner. I got to talk to Christians and Hindus and had some great conversations! Overall it was a great week!
This morning (Tuesday) I went to Delhi airport in India to retrieve my luggage and fly out to Bangladesh. It was a much longer process than it needed to be and once my bags were finally cleared by customs, I rushed back to departures and I arrived at my gate just as they were boarding the plane! 15 minutes later and I would still be in India. The Delhi airport failed at redeeming itself and I still hate it-refer to a January blog post.

I feel like I had some more barriers broken down while I was waiting to collect my baggage in Dhaka. A Muslim man wearing his full prayer suit--the white shirt that goes down to his ankles and prayer cap--was waiting on his luggage. He said something about the weather and we started talking. After discussing the weather, where we were from, how to fix the world's political problems, I told him I was interested in studying Islam; that I had recently purchased a Quran and wondered if he had a favorite book that I should start in. He recommended his 4 favorite. He asked if I wanted to become a Muslim--a very bold question. I said I was a follower of Jesus Christ, but enjoyed studying other religions and then we discussed some of the differences between Islam and Christianity. When our bags came, he then gave me his email and told me to drop him a line, that he would love to talk further about these things. I really like Muslims, and God is giving me a growing love for them.

So now that I'm in Bangladesh it's time to get to work! Tomorrow I meet with the new boss and we'll discuss the game plan for the next few weeks!

Much more to come!

Thanks for your prayers!

As I Walk from Earth Into Eternity

2010-05-16T22:45:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning we gathered with a group of about 10 believers to have a service on the 6th floor of the apartment building. As we were beginning it was approaching 100 degree's Fahrenheit outside. With no AC, we had the fans on full speed and the windows open to allow in any breeze that wanted to pass through. Through one window we could see and hear quite loudly across the courtyard into the 5th floor where the Hindu neighbor's were having a marriage puja, a religious celebration ceremony they partake in before marriage.
I am back in a land defined by, and I am surrounded by darkness. It weighs heavy on my heart. As we sang praises to our creator, I listened out the window and I heard birds. These birds were singing to their creator as well. I listened past our voices, past the birds and I heard the songs and chants and the ceremonial bells of the Hindus...not singing to their creator, but to Satan, the usurper, the great deceiver.

We sang one of my favorite songs--Hosanna, by Brooke Fraser:
------------------------------------------------
I see the king of glory
Coming on the clouds with fire
The whole earth shakes, the whole earth shakes
I see his love and mercy
Washing over all our sin
The people sing, the people sing

I see a generation
Rising up to take their place
With selfless faith, with selfless faith
I see a near revival
Stirring as we pray and seek
We're on our knees, we're on our knees

Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me
Break my heart from what breaks yours
Everything I am for your kingdoms cause
As I walk from earth into eternity
------------------------------------------------

I have seen His love and mercy. He has washed away my sins, and I now sing to Him, my creator. And I do see a generation rising up, a generation of people who sing to Him, and want others to sing to Him. I am praying for this revival. He has opened my eyes to some things unseen, and I pray He continues to do so. And the cry of my heart is that He shows me how to love others like He loved me. A love that compelled God on high to come to this earth and live and die and rise for me! Out of gratitude, THAT is a love I want to have as I walk from this earth into Eternity. As I take that walk one day, I want to take it with friends who were formerly Muslim and Hindu, but learned to sing Hosanna to their Creator! I believe I will. To Him be the glory!

Tongues and Prophecy--an interesting last day

2010-05-12T20:56:00.000-07:00

I went into the bookstore Saturday morning for the last time. Most of the morning went along as usual; greeting folks, finding books, and selling books. But at about 3pm a man walked in and started moseying around. I finished helping an old lady find some book for a woman's study and then I went over to greet the man that had walked in.
I said the usual "Hey, how are you? let me know if I can help you find anything" and he just looked at me oddly for a second then asked what my name was. I told him, and asked for his. He said his name was John and our conversation went as follows:
John: Are you a believer Bryan?
Me: Yes, I am...are you?
J: Yes, I am. I am full of the Spirit and have the gift of prophecy. When you walked over here I felt the spirit move. He spoke to me, Bryan. He has a message for you and I want to share a word of prophecy with you. Do you mind if I speak into your life?
Me: Um...sure, go ahead.
--at this point John told me not to be afraid and he pointed his finger at my chest and started uttering some unintelligible speech for a full minute and then he switched to English. It sounded as if he was quoting something from the Old Testament prophets. Something to the extent of "I am the Lord your God and I will make myself known. I will manifest myself and will glorify myself in you." Although what he said was much more verbose, that was the gist of it.
Me: Was that a passage from Isaiah?
J: No, that was a prophetic word from the Lord.
Me: Was that a quote from Revelation?
J: No. That was a prophetic word from the Spirit that He wanted me to share with you. Bryan, you have been seeking the face of the Lord about something and He wants you to know that He hears you and will answer you, and He will glorify Himself. I don't know what you are seeking Him about, but He does. Are you seeking the Lord about something, Bryan?
Me: Well, yeah.
J: Good. Well, the Lord hears you and will answer you. May God bless you.
...And then John left without looking at any other books.
I didn't know what to make of it. I've had people "prophesy" in the bookstore before but that was usually a loud obnoxious person that quoted a few well known scriptures and said some really off the wall un-Biblical things like "God has taken me to the next level and I am more full of the spirit than you." This man was humble and said nothing un-Biblical. What he had to say was more vague than a fortune cookie, and could be applicable to almost any believer. I don't know if it was truly a word of prophecy specifically for me or if it was a man with a fortune cookie phrase he'd say to 10 people that day, but after chewing on it, it was encouraging. Paul says to test the prophets, and I think the first step is to ask if what they have to say is Biblical. I decided that yes, God will make Himself known and that He will glorify Himself. I pray that He will do some of that through me during my time in Bangladesh...and who knows, maybe John was sent by God to share that.

Prayer and Holiness

2010-05-07T10:14:00.000-07:00

I'm less than a week from leaving. I'm not sure how I feel. I'm excited about so many things, but sad to leave friends and family.

I've been blessed to attend a few prayer times set aside to pray solely for me and my 6 months in Bangladesh. It is awesome to know that friends and family believe so much in this step I'm taking that they make special time to pray over me for it. This does many things for me. It helps me see that I have friends in Christ; Christ brings together people who would otherwise have nothing to do with each other, for this He gets the glory. It lets me know others are asking the Father to do great things in and through me. It points me to the Father to ask for help and guidance and makes me more in love with my God. It keeps me accountable knowing that these friends and family members care about what God is doing in and through me and they will ask me about it. This keeps me focused and looking in the right direction.

Why is though that my friends did this for me? Is it because I have been "called" to something EXTRA holy? No. Is it because I have a special gifting? No. Is it because I am somehow different or more special than someone else? No. Is it because Asia is extra lost and I need more prayer than my friends here? Absolutely not. I think it is because they love me and are excited about the opportunity God has given me, but is this opportunity holier than the ones He gives everyone else each day? I don't think so! My opportunity to obey Him might take me a little further away and make for a neat story to read about on a blog, but it is no more special or holy or more of a calling than what He asks you, the reader, or any believer, to do each day.
He gives each of His children a gift, or a set of gifts and each is just as holy as the next when used to glorify Him.
If this is true, shouldn't we lift one another up and pray over one another? Yes. This is part of the job of "The body of Christ," to lift one another up, bear each others burdens, and encourage each other through prayer.
That may be a cool thought but what do u do about it? Pray for a friend today that he or she will be filled with the Spirit and that God will do great things in and through them; then let them know you are praying for them. Pray that God will help you to see your job, your parenting, your schooling - whatever he has given you to do - as a holy gifting, a holy calling! Pray that He will help you to see the opportunities around you to be salt and light. Live the gospel daily, and when He does great things GIVE HIM THE GLORY!

Is this really happening?

2010-04-23T16:27:00.001-07:00

A smart young man receives a business and finance degree from a university, gets great grades, and personal letters of recommendation from the most respected and well connected professors in the business department. It takes a couple months and some intense interviews, but he lands a great management position with a financial advisory firm. He puts a down payment on a modest house, proposes to the most awesome girl he's ever met, and gets married about a year after graduating. The couple gets involved in their church and helps out with... STOP!!

That's what my life was supposed to look like right? I kinda thought so a couple years ago. A lot has changed since then. A lot has changed since a couple months ago. I got the degree, the grades, and the letters; but a year later, no firm, no house, and no ring.

As it turns out, the things I was praying for in January and February actually came about despite my skepticism. Honestly God has exceeded my expectations and really surprised me. I now have a job description, a budget, nearly 100% support, and a one way plane ticket to South Asia. I'd asked God for a paid position so that I wouldn't have to "bother" people, humble myself, and raise support. He knew I needed lots of humbling, raising support to return to Bangladesh would be the least of my worries.

Immediately after Jesus rose from the dead there were rumors that he was alive. When He appeared to the disciples and others in a locked room to show them He was in fact alive, everything was better right? Their leader and teacher was back and things could go back to normal. No, it says their hearts were full of doubt and fear. No one had ever brought themselves back from the dead. They were doubtful, scared, and some of them might have even been mad at Him. I kinda feel like that. God provided an opportunity for me to return to Bangladesh, I doubted, he provided a little bit, and I doubted some more. Now he has fully provided, I'm returning; and while I'm not mad at God for providing, it is definitely not what I expected, and I'm a little bit nervous about what lies ahead.

I can be slow like Gideon sometimes, but after all He has done to open doors and provide for my return to Bangladesh, even I can see that this is obviously His will for the next 6 months of my life. Despite the doubts and fears, I take comfort and trust Him in this. I am really excited to see what He has for me. My job description says I'll be doing financial support work and efficiency consulting, so it will be great to use my degree in a professional scene. It will be even better to do so around Muslims and Hindus, getting to know them, hearing their stories and sharing with them my story of God's grace and love. I'm not sure what all He has planned, but as I follow Him and obey Him, I know that it will be awesome!

Pray with me as I work through some final details and prepare myself to be in Asia for the next 6 months. WOOO HOOO!!!

Next Steps

2010-02-19T17:11:00.000-08:00

Well, I've spent a month in Asia, I'm back in the states and I'm readjusted. I've seen a different world from anything here in the West. The masses of people with different clothes, different religions, simple reasons for living; the extreme poverty; the food and the smells; the overall way of life, all of it has affected me deeply in ways I won't fully know.
I've hesitated to post and update since I returned because I'm not sure what the Lord has next. Last week, I spoke to a group at church about "Trusting God" and I doubt anyone got more out of it than I did, because it is exactly what I'm having to do with the next few months of my life - Trust the Father.
My goal of the trip was to find a company that would be able to facilitate an internship so that I could return to Bangladesh and live and work and minister in the country. There is one company in particular that I was very impressed with. Each morning the Christian boss gathers together an office staff of mixed religions together for a word of prayer. Not just a "bless this day, amen" prayer, but an individualized prayer for each of the staff and their family and various things each person was facing. The company is providing jobs for people while teaching them skills to better their lives, and they are sharing the love of Jesus every step of the way. The company is working in conjunction with the parent organization to prevent "At risk" children from being sold into child slavery and prostitution by pulling them off the streets, and giving them an education. These and many other things about the company impressed me. The boss and I have spent many hours talking about the company and ministry in Bangladesh.
In short, they want me to come back and do some financial and administrative work for the company anywhere from 3-6 months. This would be a volunteer position, meaning I would have to raise financial support for those months. In the next couple weeks I will have some meetings and interviews here, and over the internet to Bangladesh to figure out the logistics of going, the cost of living, and many other details such as raising support. Pray with me as I figure out what the Lord has next. I believe that I am supposed to go back, and I would love to return for 6 months. If you want to get together to talk about specific things from the trip, or regarding a return trip, email or call me.
Thanks to all of you for your prayers while I was traveling. The Father protected me, and blessed abundantly.

India and another village

2010-01-31T19:13:00.000-08:00

I've been asked to update. In brief, I'm in India now. Most of my time here has been spent with believers, enjoying their company and picking their brains as to what is going on here in Northern India. Amanda, my girlfriend, is here and as you can imagine, it has been great to see her and spend time with her! I'm staying with a couple from her company.

Sunday morning I went to a small local church with Amanda and her partner Jacki. When I say small, there were maybe 15 people. Most of the worship was in Hindi, with one English song thrown in. Even though I couldn't understand the Hindi songs I recognized the word "Yeshua" or Jesus. Just knowing that these people were singing about the same Jesus I sing about filled my heart with joy and while they sang out loud, I sang and praised God in my heart and mind. The pastor opened the word to Hebrews and had some nice things to say. There is a great need for doctrinal and discipleship training for pastors here. Pray that the Lord will send people to equip national pastors and give them the training they need to effectively shepherd and grow the body in India.
After the service we all went to the pastor's home for a snack and cha (chai, spiced tea with milk and lots of sugar). Snack consisted of two large Samosa's and two cups of cha. It was a good time of talking with the pastor and members about the church and their vision for the next few years.
Around 3:30 we picked up a national pastor and went to visit a village. We left paved roads and densely populated areas for bumpy dirt roads surrounded by rice paddies and water buffalo. We came to a community filled with brick structures surrounded by thatch fences. Our first stop was a village pastor's house. We walked through an opening in the thatch fence, around the small brick building he lives in, and met him sitting on a woven bed under a Guava tree. Pastor 1 (P1) chatted w/ pastor 2(P2) in either Hindi or Punjabi - it sounds the same to me. Through the translator, P2 asked us questions and told us about his ministry in the village. He told us that there were a few other Christians in the village but they were mostly nominal Christians and don't like him because he shares his faith and tells others about Jesus. We had a cup of Cha and after being handed an unripe Guava and told to eat it, we went for a stroll through the village.
As we walked people would invite us into their courtyard or house. Most houses in the village had a small wall around the property. Within was an open courtyard area, a small stall for goats or a water buffalo, a kitchen, and one or two room areas to sleep. The first group that invited us in was a Hindu family. They were making a rug and after demonstrating how they make the rug there was some exchange in Punjabi and P1 asked one of the girls to share a story. She told a story about Jesus having power over demons and disease and that He changes lives and shared how He changed her life. She then prayed for the family and then we left. For the next 3 hours we walked through the village and went to houses that either invited us in, or that the pastor knew the people and there was an arranged meeting. We would sit down, someone would bring Cha, there would be dialogue in either Hindi or Punjabi, one of us would tell a story or a testimony of who Jesus was and how he changed our life and P1 would translate. There was always a crowd since we look quite different. The people would listen intently and rap a talkative child on the head to silence him. After the story, P1 would continue to translate as one of us prayed for the family and their needs, both physically and spiritually. They thanked us and we walked on.
During those few hours we went to about 10 homes and had way too much tea - My count by the end of time was 6 cups. In those 10 homes we visited with Sikhs, Hindus, Muslims, and Christians - only the first and last homes were Christian. As others were sharing stories I would look at individuals in the crowd of people and pray for them. I knew that I wasn't going to sit down with them and lead them to the Lord, but that maybe by our being there and them hearing a story about Jesus, He would speak to their heart. That He would put within them a desire to know Him and that they will go to their neighbor and inquire more about this man Jesus the foreigners spoke of so highly. I know that God will use our feeble attempts for His glory. I pray that stories from His word will continue to be shared in that small village and that God will strengthen and empower the believers there to continue laboring for the Kingdom.

Detained by Hindus: an evening in the village

2010-01-22T21:56:00.000-08:00

While in Chittagong there was a large Hindu Puja (festival) going on. This involved setting up shrines, chairs, and loud speakers up all over the village where the Hindus gathered to sing, dance, eat and worship whatever the given idol of the shrine is. All day there was loud music coming from all directions as they were setting up and preparing the shrines for the evenings festivities. Before dinner, while it was still daylight, I took a walk with two of the older kids through the village to see what all the hullabaloo was about. We passed shrines with people singing, shops where people were cooking the evening's food, carpenters making furniture, along with all the usual village sights of rice paddies and their workers, with rickshaws and motorcycles cruising by, etc.
We got to a sizable Hindu temple and the monk invited us in for a tour. I was glad I had the kids with me who could speak Bangla and translate into broken English for me. We took off our shoes and he showed us some shrines, the prayer areas and also his room attached off to the side. After our tour we walked back to the orphanage.
For dinner the kids were cooking fish heads, so when presented with the option of eating with the missionaries I chose wisely. It was good to spend time with them and hear their stories of God's provision and guidance. As we ate and talked we could hear the Hindu's music from all directions. We had talked a lot about prayer and I felt moved to take a prayer walk through the village and pray for it as everyone was worshiping their idols. The missionaries said it was safe and that they wouldn't even mind me photographing the Puja. After a short prayer in my room I took a flashlight, and my camera and went for a walk.
Only a few hundred yards walk from the orphanage was the first shrine. I stood back a few yards behind a bright light hoping I wouldn't be too noticed. I prayed silently as I watched the dancing and singing. Around the human sized idol there were flowers and plants and wreaths; candles and incense were burning at its feet next to various offerings. My heart was heavy. I took a short video on my camera. I thought I would take a still photograph and be on my way. Bad idea! I thought I had changed the settings to be discreet as I took pictures but I neglected to double check the flash. I focused on the teenagers that were dancing, pushed the button and FLASH. I thought OOPS. The music stopped, everyone turned around and the dancers surrounded me instantly. They grabbed my arms and shirt and started pulling me, saying "come, come!! Come dance!!" and a few other things in Bangla that I didn't understand. I said I had to go and motioned to leave but they dragged/carried me to the area in front of the idol. The music and flashing lights started again and they were all dancing around me and I couldn't really move in any direction. I smiled and clapped my hands, not really sure what to do. They put a chair beside the DJ and motioned for me to sit...so I sat, very glad I was not being forced to dance anymore. The DJ changed tracks and the crowd got even more excited and invited me dance again. I clapped my hands and smiled some more as I slowly moved toward the edge of the crowd wondering if I would be able to simply walk away or if I would be drug back into the dance. Once I made it to the edge I stopped clapping and waved and said goodbye...and walked away unscathed.
I walked on and most all the shops I'd seen earlier in the day were closed. When I got to the next festival area with about 5 times more people, I decided to stay on the other side of the rice paddy and pray and not take any flash pictures.
All in all I think it was a good evening. Definitely an adventure to be remembered.

The Faith of a Child

2010-01-22T20:48:00.001-08:00

Tuesday morning I took a 7 hour train (potential blog post in and of itself) to Chittagong to visit the Home of Love orphanage for two days. My time there was a good medicine to my soul.
That evening before I could even unpack and get settled I had jumped into a game of basketball with some of the kids. There are about 65 kids at the orphanage and unlike the city of Dhaka the kids have some space to run around and play within the orphanage. Since it is a Christian run orphanage there is a short devotion time at 6:30am and 6:30pm. Before the devotion time I was able to meet a dozen or so kids and somehow remember their names. After devotions is dinner. Before dinner the kids recruited me to help them roll rooti, similar to a flour tortila. The small kids have small tables and the older ones sit on benches at a bigger table. Dinner - usually one of an of innumerable combination of rice, potatoes and curry and sometimes supplemented with fish - is eaten in the traditional style: with the hands from a metal plate. After dinner is a study time and then off to bed.
Wednesday, in short, was a day of helping the kids with various tasks and lots of playing. There was no school due to a city wide Hindu holiday. There was a large quantity of basketball, badminton, cricket, pushing on the swings, monkey bars, story telling, and laughter.
Thursday was a school day so the older kids were away most of the morning and I caught up on some journaling and talked with the administrator of the orphanage who had gone unnoticed during Wednesdays "work." I was also able to spend some time playing with the younger kids. Most of the younger kids speak only Bangla but smiles and laughter are an international language, especially when there are hugs and playgrounds involved. In the afternoon there was more time spent with the older kids. At devotions I shared my testimony and a short challenge to the kids through an interpreter and thanked them for blessing my heart in my time with them. After dinner I caught a sleeper train (another potential blog post) back to Dhaka.
Reflecting on my time there I say it was a blessing and a good medicine to my soul. The staff - from South Korea, Germany, and the USA - are a picture of Christ and his love to what most of the world would call the unlovely. They could have the comforts of life and raise their family in a safe place, yet they spend their lives in a very hard place and pour their love into those kids. The kids call the Korean lady "Mother" and many familial references are made when describing others at the orphanage. The older kids play with the younger ones and help them with studies and every aspect of life as a loving older sibling. They all help out with cleaning and cooking and make the orphanage function. It is truly a Home of Love and I saw Christ there. In addition to all that, it was just plain fun. It is a good day when a precious little girl comes up from behind, grabs your hand, looks up at you with bright eyes and huge smile and leads you to a swing. Even though she can't say "push me" you know that the only thing in the world she wants at that moment is for you to love her, and spend some time with her and a swing.
As I walk the streets of Dhaka I am often approached by kids who are either orphaned or whose parents are too poor to feed them. They ask me for money and it pains my heart to know that their innocence has been robbed. Even if I give them a few taka it will probably go to a boss that has taken advantage of their innocence for his own gain. That day their boss will give them enough sustenance to barely survive. When they turn teenagers the girls are used for prostitution by these same men. If they aren't trafficked, the only life they know is begging. They have no skills to market or improve their life with. The big hope of the boys is to become a rickshaw driver and make $4 or $5 a day.

At the orphanage it made my heart smile to know that these kids were not being used for the gain of someone else. They are provided for and loved with the love of Christ. They have a hope for this life and the life to come. It is a beautiful thing to see simple faith, the faith of a child.

Brokeness

2010-01-15T08:41:00.000-08:00

Tonight I felt my heart move. I went to a church service with some people I met last night and while there I met Jessie, a good friend of Rick and Chris who I'm staying with. He invited me over for dinner after the service and I really wanted to go home but felt that I should go meet this man's family and have dinner with them. A 24 year old Bengali named Suranjit is staying with them for a few days and I met him at the house. Suranjit spoke very broken English and was from some town in the South that I couldn't pronounce well. He wasn't too talkative so I didn't pay him much attention even though he was sitting next to me, and I chatted with Jessie and his wife. It occurred to me that I was being quite rude and that despite his limited English I should talk with him. Having seen him at church and knowing that he was staying with Jessie, I thought it a safe question to ask him if he was a Christian. He said that he was a Christian. I followed that question by asking him what his story was. The response to that question changed my evening, my trip to Asia, and probably my life.
He told me the town he lives in is mostly Hindu and that when he was a young boy his father became a Christian. He and the rest of his family of 5 became Christians and they were instantly outcasts in their town. It was dangerous for them to leave the house and they were constantly harassed and often hit and even beat up for converting to Christianity. He said that was in 1995 and now 15 years later there are 20 Christians in their town of 10,000. A few people have come to Christ but most of them left because of the persecution. He says that still are harassed and sometimes attacked. As Christians work is very scarce and sometimes he tutors, but it is not enough to sustain his family, but the Lord provides for their needs.
At missions conferences or through VOM I have heard countless stories of believers being persecuted for their faith; many of them more severe than the one I just described, and some unto death. But sitting on a couch with Suranjit, this dear brother, and hearing from his lips in his broken English, the story of God's grace in sharing His love with their family and the sustaining grace the Father has given them to endure physical, emotional, and economic persecution; this touched a very deep part of my heart. I was filled with great joy for the work of God in his life, filled with compassion for his hardships, filled with a desire to alleviate his sufferings, filled with humility for the many material blessings I have, and filled with sorrow for the 10,000 plus people in his town that are lost in darkness.
Suranjit invited me to come to his town and spend some time with his family. He held my arm and asked me to pray for him. He told me that he wants to share the love of Jesus Christ with the people of his town. In his church of 20 he is trying to start and outreach program but doesn't know how because there are so many people and it is dangerous. It probably won't work out for me to visit his town, but I would be honored to meet his family and the other 15 or so believers there. We swapped email addresses and we will keep in touch and I will continue to pray for him. Do join me in praying for Suranjit and the small family of believers in this town in southern Bangladesh. God's grace and love is at work, pray that it shines through these brothers and sisters and spreads to their Hindu town.

Slowly adjusting

2010-01-12T06:44:00.000-08:00

I think I am getting slightly adjusted to the culture here. By that I don't mean that I love it and am ready to move here, but that the sights, sounds, and smells aren't a surprise or utterly shocking to me. As I mentioned in an earlier post, it was just too much for me to take in and process. Even after a couple days I would be riding in a rickshaw or baby taxi and just be in awe staring around me at how different everything is.
Tuesday I felt comfortable enough in my very limited Bangla and in my innate expert male sense of direction to venture out of the house, catch a rickshaw to another part of town, find a coffee shop to write and/or chat with people.
The area of town I was going is called "Golshan" so I can say that to any rickshaw wallah and he will know where to take me. Strangely when I flagged a rickshaw wallah he started talking with me in English, a nice surprise in my first solo journey into Dhaka. We chatted with his limited English until the end of the trip 15 minutes later. He said that Movenpicks (the coffee shop) was to the right, but after walking for 5 minutes I knew I'd gone the wrong way so I found my bearings and headed back the other way where I found Movenpicks. Once at the shop through a mixture of pointing and limited English I ordered some Cappuccino ice cream. I wrote in my travel journal for a little over an hour hoping someone would come in I could talk to, but the only other guests was a group of 8 Muslim women who I thought it best not to engage in conversation.
Upon leaving the shop I walked up to a group of rickshaw wallahs all eager to give the foreigner a ride and overcharge him. I said my address to the first one who looked at me funny, but the one next to him smiled and said "Yes boss, Baridarah!" I went with the one who seemed to know where I needed to go. I knew which turns he needed to make and knew I could tell him in Bangla "left, right, straight, stop" if I needed to.
While riding back to the house I realized that I was becoming acclimated to the sights around me. It was normal that there aren't really any lanes and that pedestrians, buses, rickshaws, baby taxis, cars and SUVs all share the same crowded road and that they won't (usually) collide despite the inches they come from each other at varying speeds and directions. It was normal for me to see a building project underway supplied by women carrying loads of sand or bricks on their head. I wasn't surprised or intimidated by the armed soldiers standing outside various buildings. It was odd but normal for their to be men off the side of the road relieving themselves as everyone passes by. It was normal to not really know what that smell in the air is, other than the faint smell of burning trash or exhaust from the many vehicles buzzing around. It was normal at intersections for me to be approached by beggars who stand there with their hand outstretched wanting and needing food or money. I've realized as a foreigner it is normal to be stared at, or receive the occasional "How are you" from people eager to practice their English.
This is my feeble attempt to help you see what I'm seeing. How to handle certain of these things I'm still figuring out.
Pray that the Father will show me my next step undeniably. Pray that while I am here, despite the many barriers, He will show me how to love this people like he loves them.

Blow out and bartering

2010-01-10T22:06:00.000-08:00

Background: Rick is in Bangladesh to start a coffee roasting company. I brought a small roaster from the states so he could start test roasting some beans. That should suffice.

Saturday night we plugged in the roaster. Step 1 is to run a cycle with no beans so season the roaster and burn off any residue left from manufacturing. We plugged it in making sure to use the step-down transformer since power over here is on a 220 cycle and the roaster is an American 110 cycle machine. Neither Rick or I thought to check the wattage rating of either device. I entered the kitchen about ten minutes into the dry run and smelled smoke. The directions mentioned there may be some smoke or a smokey smell in the first couple runs so we thought nothing of it, and we were excited and fascinated at the machine. I noticed a stronger smoke smell and saw smoke, but not from the roaster, it was coming from the step-down quite voluminously. We unplugged the whole system and determined the step-down was fried. My first thought was wattage and we found the step-down was rated for 500W and we were pulling upwards of 1600W.
A step-down is quite necessary to allow Rick to roast beans so Sunday we went to the electronics market to get a new one. In the states this is a simple process; you go to Wal-mart or Radio Shack or Best Buy whichever is closer and you will pay relatively the same price. We entered one store that is relatively large with random appliances stacked in no certain order and ask if they have a 110 step-down transformer. We received a very confident yes from the salesmen who said "follow me." He led us through the store, to the door, across the street dodging rickshaws, beggars, buses and cars, into another market with booths of stacked electronics as far as I could see; reminding me of the flea market. He walked into one particular cubicle and said something in Bangla and the man behind the counter pulled out a 200W 110 step-down converter. Just what we needed! He pulled it out of the box, plugged it in, it worked and he said "7000 taka." At this point an ignorant person would hand him 7000 taka and be on his way with a new appliance. . . but that is not how it works here. Asking if this was his best price he said he could reduce it 200 taka for us to 6800. We said maybe we will buy it, but we will come back. We walked 10 feet to the next shop owner and asked for the same thing. "6000 taka for you my friend." Next shop: "5500 taka, best price. Next shop, hoping to get him down to 5000 taka he said he could do 5200. We left the market, ate lunch, had a cup of coffee, shopped for some other miscellaneous things in another nearby market and a couple hours later returned to the electronics market. We went to the original shop, within 30 feet of the other stores and bought the appliance for 5200 taka, about 25 dollars less than the originally quoted price.
All in the day of life in Bangladesh.

Neat Conversation

2010-01-08T09:40:00.000-08:00

Today was my first full day in Dhaka. This afternoon we took a taxi to the other side of town which is a decent drive in a city of 12-15 million people. Rick knows this particular driver b/c he uses him often for trips that will take a few hours. Late in the evening on the way home we went through one intersection crowded with rickshaws, taxis, baby taxis, beggars, and tons of pedestrians all trying to get squeeze their way through. The usual intersection except for this one had a pedestrian crossing above it. On the corners one would climb steps and walk across the bridges suspended above the intersection to get to the other side. A genius way to allow both foot traffic and wheeled traffic through at the same busy time; except there were only two or 3 people on the whole bridge system. I asked our driver why no one used it. He said that Bengalis hate discipline and structure and being told what to do, so they won't use it. I thought this odd since Islam is all about discipline and structure and being told you cannot do certain things, and have to do certain other things. So I said "But isn't Islam and extremely disciplined religion?" He made some excuse about everyone not always doing right all the time. He said "lying for example. I lie all the time, no one is honest, you cannot find an honest person in this country. We cannot follow everything Islam says to do." Careful not to be boastful, the conversation continued, but I pointed out that Rick was an honest man. I asked Rick if I was an honest man and he agreed. The driver said how much he loved Rick and that he was a good man.
It wasn't a super lengthy conversation and we didn't discuss so much more that I would love to discuss, but I feel that was all the Spirit led me to say. It was something that was on top of a good relationship Rick has built, and hopefully it is something that Rick can continue to build on. I'm thankful that God is giving me some boldness, and also giving me words to say. On the first day in this city of 12-15 million people, mostly extremely poor, and mostly Muslim, my first reaction is to say nothing, just take it in and try to process it all. I'm tired and I'm in sort of a daze, taking in a sensory overload amount of new sights and smells and awkward uncomfortable experiences. I guess thats what they call culture shock.
I can feel your prayers and I'm thankful for them. Pray that I will continue to be filled with the Word, led by the spirit, and have many more good conversations.

The blessed 16 hour layover in Delhi

2010-01-08T09:35:00.000-08:00

This is long but you should enjoy it if you've ever set foot foot in an airport, traveled, or even ever seen an airplane.

IGI, the airport in Delhi, is not what we would call by any stretch of the imagination efficient or comfortable. When we landed at 11:30pm there was so much fog/pollution in the air that the pilot couldn’t navigate to the gate. Looking out the window I couldn’t see the wing, and I was sitting on top the wing. The pilot called for a truck so we could follow it to the gate, but the truck got lost in the fog. A 747 wandering around airstrips shrouded in fog with other planes coming and going is a formula for a really good news story that I didn’t want to be featured in. We parked in a safe place and 3 hours later, after a tractor came and towed us close to arrivals. Having napped most of the way to IGI, and the 3 hours on the runway, the best part of my experience in Delhi is now over.
I entered arrivals around 2:30am and was greeted by a guard armed with an AK47 . . . that was surprising. Most people in the plane were stopping in India and headed for customs, but since I was flying on to another international destination I didn’t think I needed to go through customs so I asked an official looking person that wasn’t armed where I should go to connect to the Bangladesh flight. He confirmed that I didn’t need to go through customs and said he would show me where to go. He said in English but with a deep Indian accent, “I’ll take u where you need to go. Stay here, I’ll be right back” and then he disappeared. I thought Great, I don’t know where I am, I don’t speak Hindi, there’s a guy with a gun over there, I don’t know where I’m supposed to be going . . . at least I have 12 hours to figure it out, should be fun. Eventually that gentleman came back and led me up to "Transfers." Transfers is like limbo; it is a small place somewhere in between security and the terminals. In Transfers you don’t have a boarding pass so you can’t go into the terminal area, you just get to look at it with its little shops and restaurants and nice chairs. Transfers is a small area full of people waiting for “someone to come find them” and give them a boarding ticket because there’s no information desk or self-serve kiosks to get one, just hundreds—literally hundreds—of airport workers walking around. Transfers is a, did I mention small, place where there are two electrical plugs and when u finally get one to plug ur laptop in, you find out that there’s no wifi; despite all the signs that say ‘free wifi’ it is only accessible if you have a certain Cell phone carrier. At some point I just decided, more so hoped, that someone knew what was going on in this really confusing, stuffy, smelly place and I would simply wait for “someone to come get me” while I read a book for another 10 hours. Bad assumption. In Amsterdam I received a piece of paper labeled “boarding pass: Delhi to Dhaka.” So, one would think that I could use my “boarding pass” to get from Transfers to the actual terminal area, but upon attempting this I was told what I had was not a boarding pass despite false labeling and that someone would come to Transfers to give me my boarding pass.
Fast forward a few hours and chapters later, my plane was supposed to leave @ 12:25 out of gate 01 according to the flight schedule posted on the tv screen-important detail, remember 12:25. After not coming at the 3 times they promised me they would come to give me my boarding pass, they arrived with my pass at 11:55, gates close 15 minutes prior to take-off, giving me 30 minutes to get through security and get to my gate which was not printed on my ticket. OK, game plan: get through security, rush to gate 01 and get on the plane and finally be free of IGI. Step 1, I got through security very quickly with no problem, but before I could proceed to gate 01 I hear my name on the intercom: “Passenger Bryan Miller meet Miss Punja at security station.” Mrs. Punja was an airline worker to whom I gave my non-boarding pass marked “boarding pass” after the 2 other workers who said they would come at 10:30 and 11:15 did not come with my boarding pass. Mrs. Punja said she would go get my pass and meet me in Transfers in less than 10 minutes. When a man came 30 minutes later with my ticket, I assumed they had crossed paths at the printer…yet another bad assumption. So after I found the security station they said I had lost my boarding pass and wondered how I had gotten through security. I showed them my “boarding pass” which they said was a duplicate and they had my original boarding pass, but they would tear it up for me. I don’t know which was more frustrating: a) that my flight was leaving in 15 minutes and I wasn’t on it, or b) when I tried to get through security the first time they wouldn’t let me, or 3) that I sat in Transfers for almost 9 hours when maybe I could have been in the terminal area. All easily remedied IF SOMEONE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW ACUTALLY KNEW WHAT WAS GOING ON! Well I walked through the small terminal area and saw gate 5, gate 4, gate 3 . . . and then the numbers stopped. Where were gates 2 and 1? I asked someone and they said downstairs. So I walked around looking for the stairs and found them hidden behind a couple hundred Iranian soldiers in full uniform. I got to gate 01 and it was now boarding for Istambul… bewildered as to why, since the screen still said Dhaka 12:15 gate 01, that at 12:05 it was boarding for Istambul. Asking the airline worker at gate 01 revealed that he didn’t know anything about a Dhaka plane, to ask at gate 02 which was boarding for Katmandu. Well I finally found someone that knew something at gate 02! The Dhaka flight had been delayed and would leave at 2:00 he said, but he didn’t know from which gate but to go ask information. There was now an information desk once you get past security into the terminal area. Back upstairs, past the Iranian soldiers, information said, looking at me like I was an ignoramus, look at the screen, it says gate 01. Laughing I pointed out that it said it was also leaving right then, but had been delayed to 2:00 which the screen had not relayed to said ignoramus. Well after going back and forth from gate 01, gate 02, information, gate10, information, and gate 05, I finally took a gamble and sat down at gate 02. Successful gamble, we finally boarded at 2:30. While lining up at gate 02 to board, I glanced at the Flight screen which still said “Dhaka Gate 01 12:25.” Finally, 16 hours later, bewildered, annoyed, thankful and relieved, I finally flew out of IGI at 3:00pm.
When I got to Dhaka everything was well made up for by near ideal airport situations. There was a short line at immigration where they didn’t ask me any questions at all and stamped my passport. I walked to baggage and my bags were among the first on the belt. With my bags on a luggage cart, I walked right out of the airport past scanners, customs declaration people, and more armed guards. At that point I was nearly attacked by “You have a ride? Do you need help? Taxi boss? Taxi? Taxi?” I asked a guard where the phones were so I could call Rick and he handed me his cell phone and walked off. I called Rick who was on his way, the guard walked back with 2 more smiling guards, and took his phone, and I met up with Rick.

Intimidation and Knowledge of the Truth

2010-01-05T09:01:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in Charlotte about to board the first plane of many in this trip.
I am more excited about this trip than any other trip I've taken, but also more intimidated. I'm encouraged by how the Lord has led me up to this point and worked everything from finances to contacts and visas out so smoothly. I'm excited that I might find an internship and be able to be mentored by someone who loves the Lord and loves the people of Bangladesh. I'm excited about the contacts and friends I'll make while I'm over there that may lead to future work and ministry together. At the same time, these of things that I'm so excited about also mean leaving everything I've ever known and loved and been comfortable around. That is a little intimidating.
On the other end of the spectrum, looming like the IRS is failure. What if I hate Asia and never want to go back? Or even if I like it, what if I can't find some sort of internship?
Fears like these could cripple me if I entertained them and worried about them. To fight these unhealthy fears I have to remind myself of whats true. I know that I didn't come up with the idea of traveling to Asia to do Business as Missions. God has put it in my heart because of some plan He is working. He is guiding and directing me and I know that this is the next step I'm supposed to take. I don't know what comes after this month; I have some ideas, but I dont know. I don't need to know. Sometimes He takes our path up high where we can see way out in front of us, and sometimes we can only see the next step. I'm ok with that. I know that He has good in mind for me and that as I seek Him, He won't lead me down the wrong path. So yes, I'm aware of the fears and possibilities; I'm a business-minded guy I'm supposed to look at all the angles and possible outcomes. After looking at them, I'm plowing ahead knowing that He is the one in charge.

Prayer Requests

2009-12-22T14:27:00.000-08:00

1. I have set up meetings with many people/organizations in Bangladesh and couple in India. My main goal for this trip is to find a 6-8 month paid internship with someone currently doing Business as Missions. I want to be mentored by a Godly man in what it looks like to minister to people through business; meeting needs both spiritually and physically. This will have life changing and far reaching ramifications.
2. I have seen and glimpsed poverty, but I don’t think I have seen it as wide spread and prevalent as I am about to see it. The average person in India and Bangladesh lives on less than $2 US per day. Pray for wisdom in how to deal with that mentally and practically as I meet beggars and people in need.
3. I have lined up meetings with a school, an orphanage, businessmen, missionaries and there will be more lining up of meetings once I’m on the ground. I will encounter encouragement, discouragement, wisdom, foolishness, good advice, horrible advice, and who knows what else. I know that He will teach me a lot by listening to and talking with those who have gone before me. Pray that I will have wisdom and discernment. Pray that I will ask good questions and be open to the things He has to teach me.
4. God has been good in providing sufficient work to where I can take this trip. and I'm very thankful for a few sponsors who also helped to make it possible. Praise God for providing everything I need.
5. Pray that I won’t be a sponge. It will be easy for me to make this trip about me and my future, but that is a very small clip in a much larger picture. Pray that I will overflow with His grace and be able to bless, challenge, and encourage those around me—both believers and non.
6. I met with a travel nurse last week and apparently there are a myriad of bugs, sicknesses, and diseases I could catch between the cities and jungles of South Asia. I have always been a strong healthy young man but she didn’t think that was enough to keep me from getting one of the dozens of words I haven’t seen before. I’m armed with malaria medicine, anti-diarrhea, and antibiotics. Pray that I won’t catch anything too incapacitating.
7. Pray overall that His will is accomplished in me and through me and that He will be glorified.

Stress and Grace

2009-12-22T14:25:00.000-08:00

As I look at the next year I have no concrete plans of where I will be or what I will be doing. I have goals, vision, motivation, reasons, passions and pursuits. Where does that play out? How does that play out? Well I don’t know. Honestly, I think that should scare me or stress me out . . . but I’m quite ok with it for now. I know what I’d like to be doing, but it is going to take God lining things up and a lot of trusting and patience on my part. I am naturally a go getter. I set an objective and I go after it with all I have until it is achieved. In pursuing opportunities in Bangladesh this has led to me going over there for a survey trip. It’s been a long time of actively waiting. Limited to email and Skype, I have had to learn to wait on and trust God. I have some ideas, some hopes, and prayers about long-term opportunities that I want God to reveal to me in January . . . but once again I’m waiting—waiting to go, waiting to meet the opportunity, waiting for the next step, more waiting. Don’t get me wrong, the waiting is not passive by any means. I have learned active waiting. There are many things I can do and have done, but after I have talked to the boards, set up the meetings, read the books, attained the skills, and so on; I still have to wait on Him.
All that to say, I have learned more about trust than I have about stress. It is sweet place to know that as I wisely and passionately pursue the things He is passionate about, He will take care of me and He will guide me. While I trust Him, He is clearing the road before me; and though at times it may be really foggy or dark and I can’t see very far in front of me, He promises to be the light for my path and that is something that brings peace. By His grace I am where I am, and by His grace I will go where He takes me and I can hardly wait to see what that looks like. In the meantime I actively wait, I take comfort in His sovereignty, I read His word and I get to know my Savior better. This is my prayer for you all as well: Know Him, love Him, trust Him for He is good.

Asia Bound

2009-12-03T17:10:00.000-08:00

This week I bought tickets. In January I'm finally going to Asia to see first hand what opportunities there are. As I think about the possibilities I must say I'm slightly intimidated. I don't think that I'm anxious. Paul tells us not to be anxious but rather to pursue things with prayer and supplication, but that intimidates me even more. I think one of the things that makes me uncomfortable is the idea of being uncomfortable. Despite fighting it, I think I have grown comfortable and complacent here. On a given day I know what to expect. I know who I will run into and converse with, I can choose to engage or avoid awkward and challenging situations, I feel like I am in control of things. As I pray and seek His will, and look at my deep desires as a believer I know there is so much more that He has for me. I know the desires He has for reaching the lost, helping the needy, and healing the hurting. I know that He is growing these things in my deepest desires and directing me to engage this work head on. As glorious and altruistic as that all sounds, when it comes down to it, these tasks are really messy and really hard. I wonder if I'm up to the challenge. I know that His grace is sufficient and that His strength will be my strength.

In one sense I have big expectations and am praying for specific things. He has placed this area of the world on my heart. He has placed a desire to meet people's physical needs through business. He wants to to use me to tell the lost and hurting that there is life and healing and fullness in Him. Why this part of the world? What city? What business? What partners? What local body of believers? How long? What is the next step? For now I know the next step is to pray and fast and seek Him. In January I'm adding to this going to seek out more answers in a few specific cities. I've seen God answer huge prayers before and I can't wait to see what he chooses to reveal in the next few months.

A rare piece of poetry

2009-10-12T17:51:00.000-07:00

A verse that helped me come out of a hard time was Matthew 12:20: A battered reed he will not break off; a smoldering wick He will not put out. Recent conversations reminded me of this time and that even though I wasn't seeking God, he never let me go! I started to write, wanting to convey my circumstances and how this verse encouraged me that even though I was full of selfish pursuits, God had not abandoned me and still craved a close relationship with me. As I wrote I ended up putting the verse in the first words of each line...i don't know the poetic name for that though.
Enjoy cuz I don't often write poetry

A man seeking his own.
Battered, beaten and bruised. A brittle
Reed thirsty, weak and dry. Near dead but
He would not let go. He
Will not abandon. I have
Not any faith, nothing fills. Thirsty, weak, and dry, at a point to
Break and let all go. Once on a straight path, now
Off.

And was obscurity clear,
A distress troubled.
Smoldering, near burnt, always wanting. My
Wick, can it be bright? Its futile.
He would not let go, He
Will not abandon.
Not with my strength I fight.
Put to trial, well done!
Out of the breaking, complete.

Hope that's encouraging to one or two of you.

Hunting and the Gospel?

2009-10-11T20:45:00.000-07:00

I recently went hunting. Not just for an afternoon or a day. I took a 5 day trip to Michigan to hunt for 3 days. As I should do more, I asked myself beforehand, "How does the gospel affect this trip? and how does this trip affect the Kingdom of God?" I would be traveling with believers so there wouldn't be evangelistic opportunity. At first I wasn't sure and almost didn't want to put much thought into it because I really enjoy spending time in the woods hunting and didn't want to come to the conclusion that it was wasted time. I decided that I should pray about it and maybe I would figure it out on the trip.

As we left at 4am Wednesday morning to start our 13 hour drive, I took the co-pilot seat. Instead of sleeping, I chatted with the driver. We talked about books, church, preachers, eschatology, women, hunting, missions, and stuff like that...we had a lot of time on our hands. The time passed and that afternoon we arrived at camp. After a hearty dinner, we examined the map, picked spots for the following morning's hunt and headed to bed. I got to sleep in a tent. The weather predicted a low in the night of 27 degrees Fahrenheit. Needless to say, it was cold. I slept in my long-johns and inside of two sleeping bags on an air mattress that was 1.5 feet wide. There is a challenge that comes with sleeping on that sort of air mattress. It's engineering is designed so that after inflation it is raised down the center of the mat, sloping downward on the sides. Any movement to one side or the other leads to rolling off of it onto whatever hard surface one is trying to avoid sleeping on. Therefore, one must sleep in balanced position, not moving the entire night to 'enjoy' the comforts of an inflatable mat.
Day 1 of the hunt was spent mostly in the woods with only 1 deer being harvested although I saw at least a dozen. The challenge with bow hunting is not seeing deer, its getting those deer within very close range. Day 2 it rained a lot, and 2 deer were harvested. Day 3 we went to the famous Beaverton Tavern for their famous "wet-burritos" that are so large few men can eat the entire thing, although we always try. We chatted about hunting and sports and work...the usual. As I left the BT, it occurred to me one area the gospel had affected that lunch and the trip overall. It was in our conversation. We didn't constantly talk about the gospel or grace, but I don't think we had to. I realized there were a lot of things we didn't talk about as a result of Christ being in us. This seems trivial but I really try to think about how various things are affected by the gospel and I was really wondering about this hunting trip.
So basically I saw two areas specifically that were affected by the gospel and may even have a small affect on the Kingdom. First was our conversation: Overall it was edifying, encouraging and uplifting. We didn't talk about a lot of negative things, sinful things, or tear each other down. Secondly, I enjoyed praying as I sat in the stand. Imagine complete silence, the smell of earth, the leaves and the trees after a light rain. I sit up in a tree above squirrels scampering around, birds chirping, an occasional turkey or deer walk by completely unaware of my presence. For hours in this tranquil silence I lifted up praise to one who created it all. As I thought of friends I prayed for them --friends who know Christ I prayed that they would grow in Him; and friends who are not believers that they would one day know the one who created them and the serenity I was enjoying. I was just able to talk with the Father and enjoy it! I also was able to spend spend some great time with my earthly father and brothers and talk with them and strengthen our relationship which I thoroughly enjoyed!

Fasting and Reason

2009-10-11T20:39:00.000-07:00

I was in the bookstore sitting behind the counter when my little Indian friend came up, arms folded and informed me that she was mad. She is the most brilliant and mature 9 year old that I have ever met and I was very interested as to what had made her mad. So I asked her to tell me all about it. She told me that she was hungry. "Why are you hungry?" I asked. "Because I'm fasting. I've been fasting since yesterday and it stinks because I want to eat something and can't." I thought maybe it was a Muslim holiday where the family fasts for something or other. I asked her why she was fasting. "I dont know... but we do, and I don’t like it." Then she left with that flustered face that kids make to let everyone know they are flustered, inviting inquiry as to why, giving them an excuse to vent about something. She came in just wanting to let me know that she was fasting, but the fact that she had no idea why saddened me. So many people are caught up in religious practices, living their life by strict standards, going out of their way to do things, or even depriving their body of nutrition because... they think they are supposed to... because its what they do... because a leader said so... but not really knowing why. I was sad and wanted to relate to her and tell her that I fast too sometimes, and it makes me really hungry as well. I wanted to tell her that I fast when there is something that I am very burdened about and want to talk to my heavenly Father about it all day long. That when I have thoughts of being hungry it drives me to prayer and that is my reason for fasting, and that it always changes my heart and draws me closer to God. I wanted to tell her all this but she was gone and didn't come back all day. She was gone, off to continue being hungry and left to wonder why.

I have known many people who call themselves Christians and are in a similar loop of actions without solid reasoning behind what they do. I read only this version of the Bible, I go to this church, I wear these clothes and listen to this music, I don't go to those places...and so on... just because. Because a parent raised me this way or a pastor said this is what good Christians do... When these things define who we are as a Christian there are huge problems. When people look at me what do they see? What mental categories do they put me in? I want to be known as someone who loves people the way Jesus loved people. I want to be defined by how I treat people with love and how I speak unceasingly about Christ and how He affects my life. I have a lot of work to do, and heart changing that needs to be done, but He is faithful.

I'll see my Indian friend again soon and maybe we can talk more about fasting and the reasons behind our actions.

lack of money and opportunities

2009-09-09T18:23:00.000-07:00

I received an email today with a link to a missions video. It was not the usual God breaking through the darkness and crashing through cultural barriers and people coming to Christ in far off places video. It started with scripture which is usually encouraging, romans 10:14 How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? ¹⁵And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" The narrative continued to say that instead of sending missionaries, they were having to bring missionaries home due to lack of funding. Instead of being sent to preach the gospel and tell the good news, they are being called home.

Many thoughts came to mind, I'll share a couple. The first obvious thought is the one the makers of the clip want you to have: "Thats sad that missionaries are having to come off the field, how will the gospel progress in those areas?" This was immediately followed by "Well, God is sovereign and the progression of the gospel is bigger than lack of funding." This is not to say that we shouldn't give and send, we should; its a clear command in scripture. Who knows what seeds have already been planted in areas where missionaries are having to withdraw? Seeds of seeking in the hearts of unbelievers, seeds of vision and creative access in missionaries, and seeds of the passion of evangelism in the lives of national believers. God calls us to efficiently use our resources for the Kingdom. When the most obvious of those resources-money- run out, its not the end of the mission. The mission continues wherever you are. I won't exhaust this point, but if the money just isn't there, then it shouldn't be looked at as a failure. It should be viewed as an opportunity to serve elsewhere--indefinitely until He calls you elsewhere.

Secondly, and the more pervading thought I had was what an opportunity for a different sort of missionary to step up to the plate and take over the reigns. An opportunity that will still cost money, but instead of and endless drain of money, an investment in something self-sustaining, reproducible, and an investment that has temporary as well as eternal return. When a church suffers financially due to a downturn in the economy, there are still people (at home and overseas) that need jobs. What if a church took a portion of their mission budget and financed a businessman that was not only a good businessman but a man of God with a passion to see the lost come to Christ; a visionary that could see an opportunity, start a business and employ non-believers in an area where there are not many believers! What if in the course of employing these non-believers--interacting with them daily--this businessman was able to lead one, or two of these nationals to Christ! The ball starts rolling and the implications are endless! This is my vision and what I believe God has called me to do in the near future. I don't want to misconstrue my point and make anyone think I disapprove of or think that the traditional model is bad. God gives each member of the body different gifts, that's what makes us the body! If everyone went to Asia to start businesses and lead one or two people to Christ, who would disciple or pastor or perform all the other functions of the body? This is just one gift that God uses.

Here is the video that I was emaild: http://give3.ccci.org/frontlines/home?m=WX8860
I encourage believers to first pray. Ask the Father what your role in the kingdom is. It may be serving where you are and giving sacrificially to enable others to go. Your role may be to take your skills and resources elsewhere--going overseas where the church is less concentrated. These are really our only two options (barring disobedience) that we have as believers. Matthew 18 tells us to make disciples. That is whether we are at "home" or elsewhere.

Grow in Christ my friends! Drink deep of the fountain of Scripture and let Him change your mind and your heart and give it all to Him!

A Me Centered Gospel

2009-08-22T15:38:00.000-07:00

I recently went to see an old friend’s band play. When I got to the venue it was a church that was having some sort of youth rally. Chris and I walked in as they were doing some worship music. I was enjoying sitting back watching people worship, then someone started talking and it went downhill fast. It was completely an emotion driven time. He started chanting ‘Amen’ when I thought he was going to say something meaty, but that might have killed the emotion. When he did start talking it was all about YOU! It was a lot of really good partial truth, but it lacked any foundation or solidarity. He skipped over any reason for our faith or new life—things like our sin and depravity, or the death of Christ—and went straight to Christ is risen and we’re going to change the world, yay! No one is perfect but God still loves us, praise Jesus, yay! This is the gist of what he said but he took 5 minutes to say it in a sort of whispered and excited way to continue the emotional experience. Chris looked at me and said “that’s not the gospel.” There was more talk of how its all about being good people and changing the world because people will see God in YOU! Your generation and the gospel depend on YOU! YOU have to get rid of sin in your life or the gospel will die. There was nothing about how wretched we are without Christ, nothing about how Christ took our penalty, nothing about a regenerated heart, nothing about any reason to live for Christ other than an emotional pep rally that got some kids so intoxicated with emotion that they were jumping up and down shouting.

The band was there to provide music and a good atmosphere which they did well, but when it came to the speaking, it was totally a me focused gospel that sets people up for a twisted Christianity, an over inflated view of self and a small view of God.

It saddened me that these kids were being fed such a partial gospel. It was about having all the goodies of the Christian faith: forgiveness, freedom, and a ticket to heaven. But for some reason its OK to skip all the groundwork and the hard parts like humility, sanctification, and suffering.

I don’t say this to bash anyone but that it was eye opening for me and gives me a reminder to check myself and to make sure the gospel in my life is focused on Him and not me. Its so easy and comfortable to fall into thinking that this life, even my Christian walk is about us…its not! Any good in my life is a result of His grace and Him putting a new heart in me.

Is it about life or is it about death?

2009-08-21T15:56:00.000-07:00

Is the Christian walk about life or is it about death? Well I must very confidently say Yes! Last week as I prepared to speak to the college class I thought I was going to talk about death: dying to self, putting to death the flesh, and the like. The more I studied I found a lot less about this topic than I thought. As I read Romans, Philippians, Hebrews, Ephesians, Ezekiel I found more about living with Christ, walking in the Spirit, and sanctification. Previously, somewhere subconsciously my focus was to not sin, enabling me to walk closer to Christ; that sounds good right? The problem is that it puts the focus on me and what I'm doing and how I can better my walk with Christ. A very me focused gospel.
Ezekiel 36 sums up how my walk with Christ works. After 35 chapters of describing Isreal (us) as the whore of the nations, he says that for His glory He is going to wash us clean, put a new heart in us and make us desire Him, after which we will walk in His ways and obey Him and love Him and it will pain us to think of what we were and we will not want to sin against Him. None of this is because we are of any worth, but because He wants to glorify Himself through us! WOW.
Romans 6 and 8 flesh it out a little bit more saying that Christ has died for our sins, we were buried with Him and now we are dead to sin, we are Sons of God and alive in Christ Jesus! Paul says that if we are walking in the Spirit, we will put to death the deeds the flesh. Basically, I had it switched. My focus doesn't need to be putting the flesh to death, that's a very close secondary. My focus rather should be on living in and for Christ! The dying part has been done, my focus needs to be on LIVING for the one who did the dying for me and on walking in the Spirit. He enables me and gives me the desire to do so and as I walk in Him, I will naturally put to death the flesh. We call this sanctification, becoming more like Christ.
Why are we sanctified though? That's another huge can of theology for another day, but basically so that we can continue to spread the message of Jesus Christ. Our Sanctification is not about us, but rather like God said in Ezekiel: that it was for His honor and namesake.

So, its about death-the death of Christ! Then after washes us puts a new heart in us it is about life-life in and for Christ!

The death He died he died to sin once for all; but the life He lives He lives to God. In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer your body to him as an instrument of righteousness. Sin shall not be your master for you are not under the law, but under grace. Romans 6:10-14

Where Can I find Jesus? [Main St]

2009-08-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

This week was a week full of abnormal interactions, starting with Jay, the 27 year old girl who was going through more suffering than I ever care to encounter. Most of these encounters occurred at the bookstore which is why I like that job so much. I encounter people from all walks of life with any and all kinds of “Christian” theology. Saturday I met a man who had previously been an evangelical, then a fundamentalist, and now after ‘being mentored by CS Lewis,’ has decided to be Catholic. I didn’t really want to talk to this man because while so easily swayed by man’s wisdom he seemed very dogmatic and un-swayed in what he thought to be truth. I asked him what made him change his thoughts on religion. He explained that it was after much reading. He read CS Lewis and many other reformed protestant theologians and somehow came to the conclusion they were all wrong in areas and decided he should become Catholic. This was a reminder to me that the wisdom of man, even wise men does not compare with the power of Scripture and sound doctrine. After taking in Scripture, the Holy Spirit gives knowledge and discernment so that we can approve what is excellent and true, making us pure and filling us with the fruit of righteousness; this only comes from God, not men.
Later the same day as the store was filled with people a man walked into the store wearing a large wooden cross around his neck and a large African smile on his face. Without even glancing around the store he came directly up to me and asked me in his cool South African accent “Where can I find Jesus?” I was caught completely off guard and my mind went completely blank wondering if this man was serious or not because he did not have the demeanor of a man that was really seeking what he was asking for. Being surprised at the question I nervously said that Jesus was in Heaven with the Father. He immediately followed with “Well, how can I find this father?” I asked if he was serious and he adamantly said “yes, I asked you a question for you to answer, so now you will give me an answer. You say Jesus is in Heaven with the Father. How can I find the father?” I quoted Jesus saying He was the only way to the father. The man fired back “Well how can I find Jesus?” Thinking I had just done some circular reasoning, I backed up and elaborated the simple Gospel of how we had sinned, messing up God’s perfect creation and Christ paid for that sin and we have to put our faith and trust in Him. It was such a weird conversation in which there were more pointed questions that I felt I should have had a better and more concise answer for. After a couple questions I was more relaxed and I felt it turned more into a casual conversation than a pop quiz that I wasn’t prepared for. I asked if I was adequately answering his questions and if he had a Bible that could more thoroughly answer his questions. He said I was the only scripture that he had at the moment and only I knew if I was giving him good answers. He said “You say are a Christian, you should know what the Bible says in order to answer my questions.” By this point a friend had joined in on the questioning and by his comments I gathered the man I had been talking to was a well read believer who was more or less probing to see what doctrine I believed. I wondered if I was part of a survey of some kind and if my answers were being recorded. The conversation deteriorated into questions like “Why do we sell books that contain heresy in them?” and “Which version of the bible is the ‘best’ of all the ones we sell?” At that point I had to welcome some other customers and help them find some fiction book, probably filled with bad theology in story form. The whole interaction with the man was very random and uncomfortable. I said goodbye and the men left the store without even browsing around. After uncomfortable situations I always think of how I could have better handled them or made them more comfortable. It made me wonder how ready am I to always give an answer for the faith I have; even when I’m not expecting it. I mused over the gospel again and again in my head throughout the rest of my shift.
After work I headed downtown to meet some friends visiting from out of town for dinner. I sat on a bench and read my email while I waited for them to get lost while driving around to find a parking garage. A less than privileged man approached me and introduced himself as Rick and sat down next to me. I gave him half my attention and continued to read my email. He said “I’m not racist, but you ‘white folks’ enjoy the expletive weekend.” Well, it did seem rather racist and I asked why he wasn’t enjoying his weekend. He rambled for a minute and then said he wasn’t gunna lie, he just wanted some money for a beer. I laughed at this point and said I liked his honesty and that most people who walk up to me like he did just give me some sob story and tell me they need gas money or money for food or something. We made small chat for another minute and I handed him the two dollars I had saying I liked his honesty. Since it was on my mind, I asked him if he knew Jesus. He said he did, and I asked him what that meant to him. He gave some Sunday school answer about how Jesus died for our sins; then he admitted it didn’t mean much to him. He asked why I was a Christian and I told him that after trying many things, Christ was the only thing that satisfied my soul and gave me joy. Then Rick surprised me again, he said “so if you died, you know for sure that you would go to heaven?” I thought the evangelizer was supposed to ask that question, but overall I was glad he brought it up. I confidently said I did, then asked him the same. He said he wasn’t sure what would happen. At this point Rick opened a window into his life. He explained that he was racing one night and lost control of his car and crashed. He ended up ok but the crash killed his 1 year old daughter. His family still hates him for it and will never forgive him. After that incident he went to church a lot and always tried to do good and even gave out literature for the church. After a while it didn’t seem to help and so he went back to his old way of life. I told him that God can forgive us for anything we have done and that God’s own son had paid for our sins and that it wasn’t anything we could do- good deeds or passing out literature- it was a gift! He asked if I still sinned. I laughed and said yes, but God has changed my desires and I don’t want to sin against Him. He said, “So you don’t want to have sex?” I laughed and said I do, but only with my wife, because that’s the way God set it up. After asking what I do when I sin, he said “So you can sin but its ok as long as you ask forgiveness each time?” I explained that it pains God when we sin and that He has given me a new heart with new desires and that I want to live to please God and act more like Jesus, living for others and not myself. By now I had a few missed calls, a voicemail and some text messages from my friends who had finally made their way into downtown, but I considered my conversation with Rick more pertinent. He wanted to let me go but asked that I pray for him. I said well let’s pray. As we sat there I prayed for him. I prayed that God would break into Rick’s life and show him Christ and forgiveness, that his family would be able to forgive him, that Rick would be able to forgive himself, and that God would change Rick’s heart, then ended asking that he would enjoy his weekend.
As I walked to meet my friends, I thanked God for the interaction He threw my way. The whole conversation flowed naturally and I could feel Gods presence. Although he didn’t pray, it was a great discussion about grace and forgiveness and what it meant to be a Christian. I knew that the awkward conversation I’d had in the bookstore had mentally prepared me for the casual one I had with Rick downtown. I thanked God for his providence and funny way of reminding me of the gospel and for the way he truly cares about people like Rick. Its only by His grace and changing my heart that I cared to listen. Rick wanted a beer; I wanted to talk about Jesus, something way better, so I did.

I am not acquainted with suffering

2009-08-05T20:31:00.000-07:00

A girl walked into the bookstore today, talking on her phone; she seemed aggravated, flustered, and very humble. She was discussing how someone had wronged her. This person was on parole and if she wanted to be vindictive she could turn them in for something or other and get them put back in jail but “that’s not me” she said. She also said a couple of times how no one had offered to help her.

When she got off the phone she looked very downcast and she asked me if I had anything that could encourage her. I said “how about a hug?” I gave her a hug and that put a smile on her face and she thanked me. She said she was looking for a book to help her through a rough time and that she had a lot of things going on. Another customer asked what was going on and she started a long list of things I have never experienced first or second hand. She put on a small smile, happy that someone was showing interest in her life, and fighting tears she slowly said “I may have ovarian cancer, I got kicked out of my house, my 3 kids and fiancé and I are living in a hotel, I almost lost my job, I have a few other health issues” she said some other things I don’t remember, but she was obviously in a hard spot and suffering. She mentioned she was only 27. I could see scars on her arms; I don’t know if they were from abuse or just a hard life. I did not know what to say… The gentleman that had asked the probing question asked if she knew Jesus. She said she was “born in church, but had been away from it for a long time.” He said something about knowing what it what it was like to go through some crappy situations; he then asked if he could pray for her. Right there in the store with customers all around he held her hand and started praying in a normal volume like he was talking to a friend. He prayed for what seemed a couple minutes that God would see her and help her and encourage her and that she would find joy and love and peace in Him. The whole time I’m thinking, “Why didn’t you think of that, Bryan?” and “What book can I offer her that will help her in her situation?” When he was done praying he reached down and handed her the last copy of a Rick Warren book saying that it helped him a lot when he was dealing with some tough times and that it would bless her and encourage her. I don’t doubt it was providence that he just happened to be standing there by that exact book as she walked in and started talking to us. She asked me if I had any books on marriage saying she and her fiancé wanted to grow closer to one another. All I could do was show her a section of books filled with marriage advice, half of it probably common sense or unhelpful fluff. She picked out two and asked which one I thought was better…I had no idea, I haven’t read any books on marriage. She chose one, but the other one sounded good too so I gave it to her and paid for it myself later. I told her to tell me which one she thought was better after she read them.

During this interaction I had two thoughts, the first of which I hated more than the other, but I hated them both. The first was a self-righteous upper middle class bias that was engrained in me somewhere in my upbringing; probably through hearing snide comments toward the homeless, the poor, or the hurting. Knowing it was only a half truth as I thought it, I thought “you are where you are because of the decisions you have made.” True or not, you are where you are, and sometimes that sucks and you need some help to get out. Secondly, I thought, “I have no idea what this girl is going through, or how to really help her.” I was glad that other gentleman was in the store and at least in word sympathized with her and had the boldness to pray for her and ask her if she knew Jesus, the only One who could really help her. I thanked him twice before he left the store, and thanked God many more times for his interaction. The only thing I knew to do for the girl was pray for her and give her that other book as an act of kindness. As her credit card was processing I jotted a quick note to her saying I would continue to pray for her. I meant it, and I will. As she left I told her that I would pray for her and that I hoped things would get better. She smiled but…I still felt like I wasn’t doing anything to help her.

Later I kicked myself for not recommending the Psalms or even probing deeper about her relationship with Christ. How could I be so unhelpful and timid about speaking up?