Fools For God

Note: This entry was actually written back in June...it is NOT currently happening. There are two reasons I include it now: 1) The purpose of this journal is to relay some of our experiences here in Indonesia, and 2) to praise God for bringing us through this event to where we are now (7 months into a healthy pregnancy). This entry was written in the midst of one of life's storms and is a bit hard for me to re-read because it immediately takes me back to that difficult week. Even so, it was a good week...a necessary and transforming week for our spiritual growth. And as bizarre as it might sound, looking back, it is also a time that Amy has described as one of the best weeks of her life. Mine too.

As I write this, Amy has been in bed for 3 days. Again, we are going through a time of testing and tribulation. You may remember that we have struggled with infertility for a few years. Last year, Amy became pregnant for the first time, but we lost the baby eleven weeks later in a scary rush to a third-world hospital during Christmas vacation. We found out in April that she is pregnant again. After doing the math, we realized that the due date was the exact same day we were in Bali last year losing our child. God truly is the Redeemer!

But 4 days ago, about the same time as the last, Amy began bleeding. Just a little at first -- then much more. Seeing that much bright red spill out of her uncontrollably struck us both with terror. Immediately came the tears and the cries of, “Dear God NO! Please, not again!” Perhaps you know this feeling—a raw, guttural mixture of anger, shock, and horror. It comes with a profound sense of helplessness and is then often followed by an action plan of some kind. How are we going to deal with this?

Our first reaction was to try getting a hold of a local doctor. We were told he was out of town. Then we tried contacting the doctor we had visited before in Semarang (2 hours away). He could not be reached. We truly had nowhere to go. And even if we did, the healthcare here is deplorable. It is likely that neither doctor has the knowledge or equipment necessary to fix things. It occurred to me that we had been put in a place where we had only one option, to trust in God. Had this happened in America, we would have rushed to the nearest hospital and had her checked out by a competent physician using the latest in imaging technology. Please don’t misunderstand, there is nothing wrong with going to the hospital. My point is this: In America, yes, we would also have prayed, but quite honestly we would’ve relied on modern medicine. Prayer and reliance are not always the same. Now, we had to rely solely on God for help. I can’t describe how humbling it is to be in a place of no other option but to lean on Him. That night was a hard night.

Amy stayed in bed all the next day. Movement seemed to increase the bleeding and pain. Though her condition had not changed, it was amazing how different our attitudes were. After much prayer, we both felt God was saying the same thing: First, I’ve allowed you to be in precisely this position so you will have to rely on me rather than try to “manage” the situation yourself. Second, are you going to trust that I am in control or are you going to trust in what you see and feel? {Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. (Heb. 11:1)} We chose to hope in God.

It would be easy to think, “That sounds a lot like denial to me. You’ve been through a previous traumatic event and you’re choosing to ignore what’s going on. It’s certainly an understandable reaction, but face facts, you know what’s happening.” Well, the fact is, I don’t know what’s happening. The only thing I know for sure is that God is with us. Now, I realize that all this may not work out the way we hope. This may end in many tears and much sorrow—that is real. But just as real is the knowledge that God is the Almighty Creator of heaven and earth. Nothing is too difficult for Him. {Behold I am the LORD, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me? (Jer. 32:27)} That being the case, if our baby is slowly dying in my wife’s womb, can God fix that? Absolutely! What if the baby has already died? Yes. I believe He can fix even that. If you doubt that God can heal Amy’s bleeding or that He can raise a dead child back to life, I urge you to read Luke 8:40-56.

On the third day, Amy and I talked about how we’ve been praying for this child – that he or she would be set apart for God’s service. That he would lead a life that’s on fire for Him; an unquenchable light. That he would draw thousands to His Kingdom through his grace, truth, compassion, and mercy. But we felt like God was asking us: “I know you want this baby more than anything and that you have dedicated his life to me. But, if I choose to take this child now, even if you don’t understand why, will you still love me? Will you still serve me? Can you dedicate this child to me, even if it means death?” We answered, “Yes. We know we are only the blessed stewards of this child. He truly belongs to you. Do what you will Lord.” I can’t imagine a harder prayer to utter.

Now—day four—Amy remains in bed; still bleeding. We are at peace. We trust that God is here and He is in control. {“For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,” says the LORD who has compassion on you. (Isa 54:10)} I fully realize that verse is not a promise that everything will happen the way we want it to. It is, however, a promise that He will be beside us through whatever happens. No matter how this turns out, we will serve Him and praise Him all the same. But in our hearts we truly believe that, despite appearances, everything will be okay. We will give birth to a healthy child in December.

But what if? What if we don’t have a baby in December? Won’t we look foolish for having such an unfounded hope? Did you read that passage in Luke? If so, what was the reason that the woman was healed and the child raised from the dead? Faith. And that is what God is trying to grow in us. {Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1:2-4)} Faith isn’t formed when everything’s going smoothly. So I can honestly say we have come to a place where we can actually thank God for what we’re going through right now. The truth is, I would rather be a fool for God—trusting in Him with my whole heart, even when I don’t understand His purposes, than have the foolish belief that I’m actually in control or that I know what’s best. {“The LORD is my portion” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him.” The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. (Lam 3:24-25)}

The Monster Within

As Amy and I begin a new school year, we find ourselves surrounded by new students, new responsibilities, a new boss, and new rules. One of the main themes we plan to focus on this year is spiritual transformation of the heart. While it would be easier to simply regulate the behavior of our dorm girls through rules, rewards and punishment, it is far more productive to work on the source of their thoughts and desires. We all need to be re-formed from the inside out, rather than trying to transform ourselves by mimicking proper behavior.

The truth is humans seem hardwired to work backwards. We strive and toil at doing the right things and acting the right way in an effort to either become acceptable to God or to ourselves. Then we wonder why we’re still such a wreck. Why do I still have these thoughts? Why do I still do the things I know I shouldn’t do? Why do I still have all this emotional baggage that I can’t seem to dump?

The problem is that we think doing the things that a good person is supposed to do is the same as being a good person. In reality, there is a monster that lurks inside each of us—Scripture calls that monster “sin” or “the flesh.” We may be monsters that act nice, but we’re still monsters. In effect, we are all wolves in sheep’s clothing. We try to push down our sin so it won’t pop its ugly head out into the open where others can see it. Often we try to hide it from ourselves as well. But if we’re honest, we’re generally aware of the evil that lies in our hearts; we just don’t always know why it’s there or how to get rid of it. The usual method is to try and manage our sin. We try and keep it at bay by putting constraints on ourselves or by doubling our efforts to suppress it. “I’ll just do better next time,” we tell ourselves. We think that by acting right, we can keep the monster inside locked up. If you’ve got a man-eating tiger running loose in your house, you could “handle it” by locking it in one of the rooms, but a tiger in a cage is still a tiger! It’s not gone, it’s just waiting for you to crack the door.

Here’s an example of how this plays out in religion: It just so happens that the beginning of the new school year corresponds to the month of Ramadan—a month dedicated to the following of very specific rules. Ramadan is the most holy month of the Islamic year as it is believed to be the same month that God revealed the first verses of the Qur’an to Muhammad. It is also the month of fasting or sawm for all able, adult Muslims. Fasting is considered one of the five pillars of the Islamic faith along with confessing the faith, prayer, alms giving, and pilgrimage to Mecca.

This month-long fast probably isn’t what you think of when you think of fasting. Ramadan is not about starving yourself for a month. In fact, Muslims can eat before sunrise and after sunset, they’re simply prohibited from eating or drinking anything during daylight hours. Some very devout Muslims won’t even swallow their own spit. This act of depravation is supposed to redirect the heart away from worldly activities. It is meant to teach Muslims to practice submission to God, self-discipline, sacrifice, and empathy for those who are less fortunate – thus encouraging actions of generosity and charity. Muslims are expected to put more effort into following the teachings of Islam, to offer more prayers to Allah, and practice purity in both thought and action.

Muslims are also encouraged to read the entire Qur’an during this month. Many take part in special prayers at the mosque each night called tarawih in which the Qur’an has been divided into 30 sections and a part is read each night of the month. So, by the end of the month, they have heard the entire book.

Now, one would think that this extended time of focusing on holiness would inspire the best behavior in all who participate. But in actuality, this is a time of increased gluttony, theft, and begging. Studies show that Muslims consume more food during the fasting month than any other month. They gorge themselves before dawn in order to avoid hunger during the day, then they eagerly await the siren at dusk that signals the okay for digging into the evening celebration meal. Many will also change their work schedules so that they can work at night and sleep during the day, avoiding the fast altogether. And since Ramadan is supposed to bring increased awareness and charity for the poor, enterprising individuals come out of the woodwork to go begging door-to-door, knowing that people are not supposed to refuse them.

At the conclusion of Ramadan, a great 2 day feast takes place called Idul Fitri. The custom dictates that Muslims go home at this time to ask (and receive) forgiveness for the sins they’ve committed in the last year. They are to wear new clothes and give gifts to family and friends. It’s sort of like our Thanksgiving and Christmas all wrapped up in one mega-holiday. However, clothes and gifts cost money, so instances of theft skyrocket. Stores raise their prices, vendors try to cheat you, scams are common, and con artists try to talk their way into your house to see what’s worth stealing.

So what happened to submission to God, purity, and sacrifice? Unfortunately Islam is a faith driven by legalism—strict adherence to the letter of the law rather than the acceptance of God’s grace to affect a change of heart. Muslims never know where they stand with God. When they die, their eternal destiny is largely based on whether their moral credits outweigh their debits and, even then, God gets to decide the balance. So they go through life trying to earn God’s favor through works such as the five pillars I mentioned earlier. Finding loopholes in the law becomes an art form. Why wouldn’t someone cheat and steal during the holy month when all will simply be forgiven at Idul Fitri? Following religious law doesn’t change a person’s heart. At best it can only alter their behavior and generally does a poor job of that as well. Just read the Old Testament and see how well it worked for the Hebrews. Muslims, Jews, and far too often Christians, base their standing with God on an over-emphasis in discipline of conduct, pride, and superficiality, to the neglect and ignorance of God’s grace. This is religion based on works and is contrary to the teachings of Christ.

Sadly, Islam knows nothing of the love and grace of God; however, there is something about it to be admired. It is a cultural religion and influences their daily life, they are diligent in prayer, and they highly revere what they believe to be the Word of God. The truth is, even as a devoted Christian, I still find that my faith often falls short of what I want it to be, let alone where God wants it to be. I don’t pray as much as I should. I don’t read my Bible as often as I should. I don’t allow the Holy Spirit to permeate and guide my every action and thought throughout each day. I quite simply don’t cherish or stand in awe of God or His time, His presence, His love, His grace, His sacrifice, His will, His commands, or His Word anywhere near as much as I should or could. I’m finding that intending to do better just doesn’t work. I require a brand new desire—divinely implanted, not a more organized schedule. I need to give myself up. Die to self. Let Him live in me…through me. The rest will fall into place on its own.

The words ”Islam” and “Muslim” both come from the same root which means “submission.” And while it is a man-made religion based on distortions of the truth, the idea of total submission to God is correct. I pray that every day I would submit my whole life—every part of it—to God. The universal Christian church as well, now more than ever, needs to rediscover a genuine commitment, excitement and zeal for God and His Word. We need a renewed heart instead of rote outward obedience or some self-help (“sin management”) program. It isn’t enough to chain the tiger up. And don’t dare try to tame it. The only way to handle a tiger in your house is to put it down! Sin must not be tolerated, ignored or allowed to survive. To the degree we allow the Spirit to transform us on the inside, so will we conform to His likeness on the outside as well. The one flows from the other, but the heart must change first, then right action and obedience fueled by love will follow—not the other way around.

As a final note, please check out the video link below. While we don’t know the particular people in this video, we do know quite a few people who work in this ministry. The video shows the Kimyal people of West Papau receiving the first New Testament in their own language. I wish we were all this thrilled and passionate about receiving God’s Word. Why aren’t we?

Constantly Amazed

I don’t know how He did it. I really still can’t figure it out.

After Amy and I had been here in Indonesia for 90 days, we looked at each other in despair and said, “The last three months has been so hard, how will we ever make it three years?” After six months, we still weren’t comfortable here in this country, but at least we were much more comfortable with our job. Then we had the miscarriage. With the hopes of seeing our first child gone, we both devised fantastic plans for escaping the country (such plans seemed necessary considering the school keeps our passports locked up for just such a circumstance and exit visas take time to obtain and require approval by the government). We projected our anger, grief and sadness onto a country we already disliked. Add to that the discouragement and difficulty we were already experiencing and you can understand why we very badly wanted to leave Indonesia and never return.

But then something happened – somehow, without us even noticing. Only two months later, we found ourselves saying things like, “I actually feel at home here now.” Or even, “It would be good to go home and visit, but I don’t think I could ever go back to stay.” It surprised us to hear those statements in our own voices. Even stranger, we both attributed our new attitudes to the miscarriage. In some bizarre heavenly exchange, God took tragedy and pain and turned it into peace and joy. How does something like that happen? I wish I could tell you, but I don’t understand it entirely myself. Perhaps that’s why Scripture speaks of the “peace of God which surpasses all understanding.” I suspect it has something to do with our response to the miscarriage. While we had the initial burst of anger that comes with trauma, we quickly turned to God for comfort. One of the wonderful things about the isolation of this place is that we have nowhere else to turn but to Him. We quite simply felt we would no longer be able to handle our circumstances in this place unless God took care of us. And He did.

A turning point occurred when we remembered the prayer we made when we first became pregnant. We told God that this child belonged to Him – we were only stewards – and therefore He may do with this child as He pleased. While it grieved us to lose our child, we realized it was God’s right to take His child into Paradise early (imagine going straight to heaven without ever having to experience the pain of this world). Somehow, in the great scheme of things, this was what was best. At this realization, our anger vanished and our pain disappeared. It was…miraculous. We had submitted ourselves and our child to God and He had responded by guarding our hearts and our minds. But it didn’t end there. God was strengthening our faith as He also stretched it. For only through sorrow can we really know God’s faithfulness. Without it, our knowledge of His faithfulness is only academic. To truly “know” something means to experience it for yourself. And so, we came to understand that losing our child truly was best for both us and the baby. If I had not experienced this myself, I would not have believed it even possible to say such a thing.

As it turns out, God’s promises are true. He is faithful through adversity. There really can be rejoicing in the midst of pain. It is possible to patiently endure suffering. He always provides exactly what we need, though not necessarily what we want. Sometimes God’s desire is to carry us through our circumstances rather than change them. But we can be sure that though He may not grant us our wishes, He will be faithful to His character – and His character is good; so completely, wonderfully good.

One World

One of the things I love about living in this ex-pat community is the diversity. Yesterday, Amy and I went to have lunch at a new Chinese house-restaurant that’s run by a Malaysian man. While there, we heard conversations in English, Korean, Dutch, and of course Indonesian. This diversity is most evident here at the school and at church, and along with this globe-trotter community comes a heightened awareness in global issues. For instance, this past Sunday, our tiny church prayed collectively concerning the current political unrest in Egypt, Tunisia, Yemen, Jordan, Bahrain and Iran. This is particularly relevant here since the nations involved are Muslim. Indonesia is the most populated Muslim country in the world and often looks up to the more strict Islamic nations. In fact, there is a movement going on here that wishes to install Sharia law in all of Indonesia. Just a couple of weeks ago, a violent riot erupted at a court house in Temanggung, just a few miles from here. A Christian man was convicted of blasphemy against Islam and given the maximum penalty of 5 years in prison. However, the crowds thought the verdict too mild and demanded his death. The riot spread to the rest of the town wherein the angry mob attacked a priest, set two churches on fire, destroyed a Catholic orphanage and a health center, and incinerated multiple vehicles including a police truck.

On Sunday after worship, our church broke into small groups to study and to share prayer requests. Just in my group alone, we had a request to pray for friends who had been beaten and kicked out of China while others were imprisoned after police raided their home and found Bibles and other literature used in spreading the gospel. Another asked for prayer for a Dutch missionary family serving in Kenya who was from his home town in the Netherlands. The family helped care for orphans through a YWAM mission center in Nairobi. Just a few days ago, a band of robbers raided the complex killing the husband and raping his wife in front of their two children. Others asked for prayer for the people still missing after the earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand this past week. He’s a Kiwi and his wife is Brazilian – they used to live and work in Christchurch and likely know some of those who perished. Still another in our group, a woman from Costa Rica, asked that we pray for her as she tries to educate the local people in how to stop human trafficking. Being amongst these people has certainly broadened our global awareness.

Our dorm daughters are also varied in their cultural backgrounds. We have one American who knows virtually nothing of America since she has spent most of her life in Indonesia. We have three girls who are various mixes of Indonesian and European. And we have three others who are Korean. Because of this, news items concerning Germany or Switzerland often get attention around here; while the current political stress between North and South Korea is always a volatile topic. Though the governments can't get along, the people still matter, so our school is having a charity concert this weekend in order to raise money to help children in North Korea. It also makes me very happy to know that our church gives 100% of all the tithes given to assist unreached people groups. How many churches can say that? This place certainly serves to humble a person and pull them out of their own culture-centric view and provide a larger scope to things.

With all this diversity inevitably comes misunderstanding – usually due to the language barrier or some cultural misunderstanding or faux-pas. And, while frustrating, these situations are often opportunities to learn new things and gain greater understanding of one another. Luckily, for the sake of harmony, most people are willing to forgive cultural mistakes and ignorance. It seems to me it’s a tiny glimpse (albeit a very hazy one) into what heaven might be like – different people from different nations interacting together. Only in heaven, we will all be as one – unified as citizens of God’s Kingdom. I can hardly wait!

No Victory Without Cost

I suppose that at the beginning of a new year the thing to do, besides making resolutions, is to reflect back and examine the last trip around the sun. But if you’ve been following this blog, then you pretty much know what our last year has been like. Just in the last half of it, Amy and I have given up our profession and our home, said goodbye to family and friends, moved to another country halfway around the world, and struggled to adjust to a new home, a new job, a new culture, and a new language.

I would be lying if I said that it’s been an absolutely wonderful experience. In all honesty, it’s been the hardest year of my life. Amy and I have been thrown into the deep end of the parenting pool, becoming surrogate parents to 7 teenage girls. We’ve struggled with heat, insects, intestinal parasites, and fungal infections. I’ve witnessed animal sacrifices, experienced a volcanic eruption, and we’ve celebrated with great joy as we learned that Amy was pregnant after more than 2 years of trying to have a child. We are learning to cope with change, loss and loneliness on a scale we never imagined. Little did we know that we were about to endure something much more difficult.

Spending our first holiday season away from home was already proving to be tough, so Amy and I decided to get away to Bali for a few days during Christmas Break in order to relax and take our minds off of home. We arrived on Christmas Day. Almost immediately, Amy began bleeding. This is not the sort of thing you want to happen when you’re in an unfamiliar part of a Third-World country – and you know no one. We got on the phone and called anyone we could think of who could help us figure out what was going on. “This sort of thing isn’t uncommon…it could be a number of things…don’t worry too much…I’m sure the baby is fine… you shouldn’t be walking around…just get lots of rest and stay off your feet.” Day 2: we rested, but periodic bleeding was still occurring. Day 3: even confined to bed, her bleeding was getting worse. I went out to find a pharmacy and get some antibiotics. At this point, we were both beginning to think the worst, but neither of us wanted to say it out loud. Early in the morning on Day 4, she was bleeding badly and uncontrollably. I woke up the resident nurse at the hotel and alerted the manager that we needed help.

Within minutes, Amy was being placed in a wheelchair and rolled out to a waiting ambulance (by “ambulance” I mean an old van that has been gutted and outfitted with a gurney, a small bench and a rusty oxygen tank). With a screaming siren, we blitzed through crowded intersections to the main hospital in Denpasar – cutting the normal one-hour drive in half. On arrival we were placed in a small, minimalist area marked off my curtains. The nurses largely ignored the fact that Amy was bleeding through her clothing and sitting in her own blood. The doctor, who was in his office at the hospital, took an hour and a half to come meet with us. The whole atmosphere was one of a lack of dignity or importance. We continued to hold on to hope, thinking that somehow this would all turn out okay. Then the doctor performed an ultrasound and coldly informed us that there was no longer any baby – pointing out in a text book what a real baby should look like at 11 weeks. Amy had been miscarrying for 4 days. Our child was dead. We were told that Amy’s body had not had a complete abortion, so a procedure was necessary to remove what remained. That’s when the Public Relations Officer came in to inform me of the cost of our visit. In Indonesia, everything must be paid for up front or they will not help you. So, in the middle of our grieving and streams of tears, I was escorted across the street to an ATM where the PR person watched me withdraw cash. In the meantime, Amy continued to pass large amounts of blood and matter. Finally, they had her prepped in a small surgical room. They quickly put Amy to sleep and I was allowed to stand in the open doorway and observe. As I listened to the steady beeping of the heart monitor, I prayed with all my might that God would not allow her to die here as well. At the same time, I cursed the cruelty of the timing and manner in which this was all happening.

Amy came through the procedure without complications. I paid. And after the long taxi ride back to the hotel, I remember walking through the lobby and hearing the lounge singer croon a heavily accented, “Get your kicks on Route 66.” People were talking, laughing, and enjoying brightly-colored tropical drinks with miniature umbrellas. I went from a zombie-like haze to a flash of heated anger. I nearly screamed, “What the hell are you all so happy about! Our baby just died!!” But the world keeps spinning and life goes on. After all, why shouldn’t they be enjoying themselves? They’re on vacation. If things were reversed, I would be having fun too. Instead, we simply sat in our hotel room feeling stunned and numb, as if we had just roused from a vivid, mutual nightmare.

As I think back on what has become collectively our worst Christmas, our worst vacation, and the hardest week of our 6-year marriage; verses from the Book of James come to mind: “When troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing…God blesses those who patiently endure testing and temptation. Afterward they will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him (1: 1-4, 12).”

I admit, I don’t yet know how to rejoice in suffering, nor have I figured out how to endure patiently. I do not have any answers as to why this had to happen, why it happened when it did, or why it happened the way that it did. I don’t like any part of it – it has caused me levels of anger, sadness, and grief that have caught me by surprise. But I also realize that each event I experience is only a single thread in the larger tapestry of my entire life. I cannot see the whole picture; only God can. And the small piece that I can see right now is clouded and distorted by pain. Yet, though I am struck down, I am not destroyed. As long as I remain in God, He can use the worst of circumstances to transform me into the man I need to be. He is a God of redemption and reversal – turning evil into good. One day He will flip this world upside down and restore what has been lost. He will make all things new. So while at the beginning of my pain I may say, “The thought of my suffering and homelessness is bitter beyond words. I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss;” with God’s help and grace, I can truthfully say, “Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness (Lamentations 3:19-23).”