Archives for October 2011

 

Dan King is a wonderful bear of a guy with a heart as big as he is. Several years ago, he began the blogsite BibleDude.net as a means of deepening his walk with Jesus and on that blog, he made discoveries that have changed his life. And if you read this book, those discoveries are likely to change yours as well.

It’s a quick read with long-lasting impact. Dan describes himself as anything but a ‘powerhouse writer.’ And in one sense, I suppose he’s right. He does not have a particularly poetic or ‘literary’ style. But here’s what he does have: a very distinctive voice, one that communicates clearly and effectively. And most of all, he is as real as they come. And kind and funny, too.

In nine brief chapters, Dan takes us on a life-changing journey – from his initial research into the disastrous impact of poverty on the two-thirds world, to making contact with an NGO called Five Talents, to a 2009 trip to Africa, where he joins a teaching team in Kenya and Uganda for a two and a half week outreach experience. 

There are two things that make this book a must-read for me:
     1.) the beauty of Dan’s heart and the enthusiasm of his words as he tells us his story; and
     2.) the down-to-earth, practical suggestions he makes for all of us to open our own hearts and minds to 
          a.) the need, and 
          b.) the ways we can contribute to alleviating that need. 

Each chapter has a praxis section, with clear, simple ideas for how we, too, can make the jump from pew-sitter to poverty fighter. And each chapter has at least one personal story – of a child, a pastor, a mother – who has been changed because of the hands-on advice, teaching and financial assistance they have received. But none of the money is handed out gratis; instead, Five Talents and their partnering agencies offer micro-loans, inviting the recipients to build their businesses, market their products well, budget wisely and then….repay the loan so that others in their community can experience the life-changes that come with a little bit of training and a whole lot of work.

A special chapter for me was the one in which Dan describes a brief safari/retreat their group squeezed into their itinerary between countries. This was not a fancy ‘perk’ for the visiting team, but a necessary, helpful and ultimately refreshing change of scenery. Re-discovering the magnificence of God’s creation in the African setting proved to be exactly what was needed to step from Kenya into Uganda with energy and enthusiasm. 

My husband and I had the privilege of living in an African country over 40 years go. We loved what we did, the people we met and the beautiful meld of savannah plains, wild animal preserves and majestic waterfalls within a 100 mile radius of our home during those two years. God created the whole world, not just our north American corner of it, and discovering the beauty of both land and people in a faraway place is a gift of grace that cannot be duplicated. And for me personally – and, as it turns out, for Dan, as well – seeing God’s glory reflected in the world around us leads ‘further in and higher up.’ 

Dan is honest about the cumulative and overwhelming sense of despair that can quickly rise when faced with the myriad problems faced by our African brothers and sisters. But he listens to wise advice: “Be content with doing your small part.” That is all any of us can do. 

But imagine if ALL of us did our own small part. What kind of change could we see? What kind of hope could we bring? What kind of God would people see through our combined efforts? 

Near the end of the book, Dan reflected on his experience with these lines: 

     “I’m not sure if God put a calling on my life through this experience, or if the experience lifted the veil from something that He has put inside of every person. After all, we are created in His image, so maybe we do have a piece of that compassionate heart that defines His character.”

I really like the idea of a mission trip like this ‘lifting the veil,’ uncovering the eyes of our hearts and showing us that imago dei within each of us. And then, of course, responding to what we find with compassionate action. 

I highly recommend this book for any Christian wanting to go deeper in their discipleship journey. Working through the suggestions at the end of each chapter will light a fire in your spirit and take you places you’ve never dreamed of…even if you never travel anywhere but cyberspace.


I received a free copy of this ebook from the author and agreed to do a review on my blog in exchange. But I would gladly have paid to read it and the words written here are as true as I can make them.


Check out Dan’s blog at http://BibleDude.net

Joining with Bonnie after several weeks away. This post may not read like it is exactly in tune with the topic for the week – which is prayer. But please believe me when I tell you, that this experience is one of the deepest prayer times of my life. I find myself begging the Lord for mercy, for clarity, for charity, for patience, for faith-amidst-the-questions, for a deepening of love even as there is a lessening of the woman we once knew. At any rate, I offer it because I must – every word poured out like a prayer.
 
She is sitting in an over-stuffed chair in the hallway, her walker in front of her. Across from her, a group from her living unit are in rows, listening to a woman about my age (which, believe me, is YOUNG in this crowd) read the daily newspaper.

Her eyes are vacant as she scans the room, turning her head as we walk in. She stares at me for a good minute, not a hint of recognition in her gaze. This is a first. I point to the man next to me, who is her son, and she begins to sense that we might be somehow connected to her. She is confused as we stand beside her, asking if she’d like to walk down to her room so that we can visit a little while. She makes no effort to stand, unusual for her.

We’ve been gone for two weeks. Her daughter, who sees her several times a week when she is in town, is also gone, caring for her newest grandbaby in Montana. She has not seen family since September 25th. And that time line is just long enough to cause a memory gap. 

As we move slowly down the hallway and turn into her room, I turn on the light and open the drapes. She prefers the room dark and spends many hours in bed each day, fully dressed, sometimes with a nightgown over her clothes. As we enter the room, I can see that she has recently left that bed and it is now 4:00 p.m., with dinner to come in 45 minutes. 

We check the calendar for the week and notice that there was a pianist visiting during the last hour. We ask about it. “She was terrible,” she says. Then she waves toward the large print crossword puzzle book and says, “I did a few more of those.” 

“Good for you!” we both exclaim, eager to grab any snippet that might lead to actual conversation. But this line yields no fish today. Instead, we hear about the large poster on the wall.

Again. 

It is a family picture taken in 1988, the year after our eldest daughter was married. She recites what she remembers of the story line we’ve told her many times: 

“It’s so sad – that one over there, he died. And that little girl in front, she just had a baby.” 

The references are to our son-in-law and our niece. She does not know their names. She does not know that she is in that picture. She does not know who anyone else is in the picture, nor is she interested. 

There is a silence that grows increasingly heavy. We ask her if she wants to join the Bingo group. “Oh, they don’t play it like they used to! It’s all just a big bin and they tumble all around. What good is that to anyone?” 

So, Bingo is out. 

We attempt a few other conversational trails, failing each time and eventually, after about 30 minutes, say that it’s time for us to go. 

She remains seated on the end of her bed. Again, no movement to get up. This is a first experience for us and we are both emotionally and physically distressed by this turn of events. Eventually, with coaxing, she rises and moves slowly back to the hallway. 

An aide comes out and greets Mom cheerfully. “Did you see that woman who played the piano?” I hear her ask, crossly. “And did you see the way she was dressed?” My husband and I look at each other across the top of her head, widening our eyes and just slightly shrugging our shoulders. Who is this person?? 

This, this is my second mother. This is the woman who cared for my children at a moment’s notice, who found us our first house, who taught Bible studies, who mentored younger women, who laughed loudly and loved life. This is the woman who made delicious meals, who always had an empty seat – or three – at her dining room table, who knew what her gifts were – and what they weren’t. This is the woman who quietly made a break from her very conservative church upbringing by refusing to be baptized until she was 34 years old. Because when she was young, to be baptized meant letting your hair grow long and wearing a bonnet over it at all times. She never let that hair grow! 

This is the woman who grew anything – gardenias, violets, ferns, spider plant – anything in a pot thrived under her watchful eye and green thumb. This is the woman who came to UCLA and invited me to tea when it began to look like I ‘might be the one’ for her son. This is the woman who folded me into her family with love and grace and who adored my children and my nephews and niece. This is the woman who was the ‘glue’ in her family, the one who maintained contact with all manner of kin, both far and near. This is the woman who quietly gave her life away to her family, to her faith, to her Lord. This is my mother-in-law, a pillar of the earth, a saint of the Lord, a gift of grace in my life. 

And I miss her so much. Oh, how I miss her. 

Even though she’s still here. 

Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
My soon-to-be 96-year-old mother-in-law at my mom’s 90th birthday party last June. With my husband’s amazing sister.