In my last blog, I promised to talk about what God’s been teaching me. I started writing that blog—honest, I did. The problem is that I like to have things well-researched, and when research spills out of my head, my blog starts to sound more like a theological dissertation than a story.
There’s a reason Jesus taught in parables: people actually listen to them.
I’m sure a story will emerge from that tangled web of thought eventually. For now, here are some other stories that have been searing themselves into my brain.
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Rhema (n.) – an utterance
Translated “word” in English, this greek word is used to denote the spoken word of God, as opposed to logos, the written word. It is used in the New Testament 70 times.
He [Jesus] answered and said: “It is written, ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every rhema that proceeds out of the mouth of God.’” ~ Matthew 4:4
And take… the sword of the Spirit, which is the rhema of God. ~Ephesians 6:17
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Growing up in a Christian sub-culture, summer camp was central to youth ministry. Each camp has its own traditions, but there’s one they all share: the “going down the mountain ” talk. It’s easy to focus on God when the day-to-day distractions of your normal environment are gone. But when you come back down that mountain, those desires and distractions start to slowly erode your foundation, until you end up in the same unhealthy practices as before you left.
The scariest part of the Race was coming home.
I’ve watched friends and family transition back to their home country and even done it, myself. Culture shock is hard; reverse culture shock is worse. Suddenly the place that was supposed to feel like home no longer does. You don’t belong in the world the same way you did before.
Thoughts start swirling. Was the Race one giant camp-high? Did all those experiences really happen? How much of what you learned will you retain? Can you even live that way back home?
Before I left for the Race, I had come to a realization: missionaries are just Christians who happen to live in a different country. (We’re all called to share Jesus wherever we are.) They’re not better people than those at home; in fact, some of them might be worse.
Missions is not a light switch.
Sure, there’ll be a honeymoon phase, but that will wear off… and then you’ll still be just as tempted to binge on Netflix, feel just as guilty for not going to a church function, and get just as frustrated with your “family” (teammates).
Your circumstances may have changed. Your thoughts and behavior patterns haven’t.
That takes longer.
The reverse is also true: if I can’t live like knowing Jesus is the most important thing in the world before leaving my home country, I definitely won’t overseas. If I don’t cultivate a life of purity, honesty, and integrity at home, I won’t suddenly discover those character traits when I cross an international border.
On the contrary, being overseas—out of our comfort zones—exposes areas where we desperately need to grow.
Thank God for His grace! And thank God that he uses these experiences and time removed from our normal rhythms to sanctify us. Like a hair-tie that slowly reaches the correct elasticity as it is stretched and released, stretched and released; like pizza dough that has to be prodded and kneaded until it relaxes into the correct shape; God uses these experiences to mold us into the kind of people that can be most effective in his kingdom.
On the race, I was stretched past my comfort zone in the areas of listening to God and the working of the Holy Spirit.
Coming home, I’m relaxing into a position of tuning myself to the rhema of God—listening to what He speaks to my heart, and then obeying in faith.
Below are three stories of times I’ve been able to bring kingdom-living to bear upon my American lifestyle through hearing and obeying the rhema of God.
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Keep On Drivin’ Me, Baby…
I first met the Pyle family in 2013. They were missionaries in Indonesia, providing air support for tribal workers. I took a quarter off UCLA to help homeschool their three kids: Abby (13), Ethan (11) and Isaac (9), for 4 months.
Fast forward 7 years… the Pyles moved back to America for home assignment in 2017. Steffan now works at Moody Aviation, training the next generation of missionary pilots. Meanwhile, Abby is going into her junior year in college.
Back in January, I was already planning how I could get rid of my car. I knew I needed to sell it in order to have enough money to go to Germany, so when I found out Abby was looking for a car—and offering exactly my asking price—I immediately knew this was right. There was only one issue: she would need the car by June, and I wasn’t going to be back in America until July.
Well, you know the story after that. COVID hit—blah blah blah, everything changed.
I texted Abby again in April. Hey, do you still want the car? I’m back in America and could get it to you by June if you still want it.
Thanks, she said, but I actually can’t buy it anymore. I lost a lot of scholarships because of COVID.
Immediately, the rhema of God came: Give it to her.
God had blessed me with a place to live for free at the Winters, as well as opportunities to make money. The amount I had made was—you guessed it—exactly the equity of my car.
I’d been blessed so that I could bless others. I left Abby a voicemail. “Hey, I want to give you the car. Give me a call sometime this week so we can work out the details.”
A completely shocked Abby called me the following day. After asking me, for the hundredth time, if I was sure I wanted to give it to her (yes, Abby, I’m sure!) she said, “You’ll never believe this. I’ve been holding out for months, trying to make this work. Yesterday I surrendered everything to God and told him, ‘well, I guess if you want me to get a car, you’re going to have to get one for me, because I can’t afford it’. You texted the very next hour. Can you believe that?”
Yes, Abby, I can.
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California Dreamin’
On the race, I got a lot of flak for talking about California. In fact, a lot of us did. It didn’t help that over half our squad was either from California or had lived there until very recently. Despite what the midwesterners will tell you, we didn’t talk about it as much as they claimed. (In fact, I think they talked about it more than us.) But it is true that we really loved and missed our home.
In the middle of making fun of us, one of my midwestern squamates found herself drawn to work with sex-trafficking victims, and, therefore, to California. (San Diego is one of the biggest hubs of sex-trafficking in the US. A recent study suggested that over 3,000 trafficking victims per year come from San Diego county alone, and that the number may be as high as 8,000.)
While on the race, my squadmate had mentioned coming down for a visit. So I wasn’t surprised when I got a text asking if she could come for a long weekend. But then, a few days later, I got a series of confused texts from her, questioning her decision to come in light of some recent personal developments.
There are some conversations you just can’t have over text.
“I just don’t know,” she told me on the phone. “Is this the right decision? It’s really expensive to live down there.”
“Well, the next step is to come visit,” I said. “You might get here and decide you want to stay home, or your heart might break all over again. It’s easy to get sucked back into the vortex of home and family; take a break from that and get some fresh perspective.”
“You’re probably right,” she sighed. “But I can’t really afford it. Tickets are expensive.”
That God-rhema pressed on me again. I didn’t question, I just started speaking. “I’ll buy your ticket,” I said, even though I had no idea how I was going to afford it.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Just tell me the airport.”
I got online the next day to look up flights. They were expensive… had I committed too quickly?
I breathed a prayer. You’ll work it out. I know You will.
That’s when I remembered my rewards points, which had never been enough to pay for a normal priced flight… but COVID had reduced the prices just enough. All things told, I paid $14.95—the price of dinner at a nice restaurant.
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Wildhoods
I first met Jessica and the “Wildhood” crew through the junior high ministry at Emmanuel Faith Community Church. Jess is part of a tight-knit group of teens who for six years now have insisted on attending the smaller discipleship camp at Hume Lake called Wildwood. I’ve been privileged to be their counselor for most of the years. During Jess’s freshman year we memorized the camp verse and performed it for a talent show, dubbing ourselves the “Wildhoods”… and accidentally became a Week 2 tradition.
About four weeks ago, Jess called to catch up. “They’re not having camp this year,” she told me. She’d taken over counseling once I left. “I’ve been thinking about hosting a make-up.”
I told her I thought that was a great idea. She asked if I would teach, and I agreed, schedule permitting.
Meanwhile, I was reading the book Dialogue with God by Mark & Patti Virkler. I scribbled all over it, in awe at finding a book that was not only scripturally based, but also agreed with so much of my own experience in learning to hear God. Everything in me was screaming to teach the material… and in that unique way of God’s rhema, all the pieces suddenly fell into place.
The Winters were planning to leave for a month for Texas* and had already offered me use of their house. With their schedule and mine, there was five-day window in the middle of June that seemed tailor-made for this venture.
Jess and I took the weekend to pray about it. When we connected on Monday, Jess told me that the subject was perfect, since (unbeknownst to me) all of the Wildhoods had recently expressed frustration with hearing God’s voice. They were hungry to learn. Even more miraculously, the Winters were loudly in favor of the idea of having twenty-some-odd teenagers living at their house for three days, despite having a “high-risk” son.
The more Jess and I talked, the more we realized that this was what God had for both of us. I could easily write an entire book about the ways God has spoken, guiding and preparing me to teach since that conversation. Suffice to say He has a plan and He is going to show up!
Later, I realized June 16-20 would likely have been the dates of our final debrief on the Race, had we stayed. Just further proof that nothing in the kingdom of God is ever wasted.
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Interlude
Over the past week I’ve driven 2,000 miles through 9 states in 32 total hours, swinging through Colorado Springs on the way up to Spokane to deliver my car to Abby.
Along the way, I stayed 2 days with my Aunt & Uncle and four cousins, whom I haven’t seen for three years. We had a ton of fun sleeping in a tent, feeding chipmunks, playing all kinds of card games (I taught them Egyptian War and Mofia; they taught me Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza—yes, that’s really its name) and exploring the rivers and waterfalls of the Rockies.
L-R: Ryder(8), Me, Finley(5), Uncle J, Caleb(12), Ethan(10)
I spent a half day with my best friend Lindsey, her husband, and my two goddaughters, whom I also hadn’t seen in three years. While there, I got to participate in a birthday surprise for Lindsey (her husband, Andre, had bought her a saddle and bridle; Lindsey almost started crying), as well as hear about what it was like to live in Korea, where they’ve been for the past two years. My goddaughters even dressed up in a traditional Korean dresses and taught me how to bow!
L-R: Me, Lindsey, Harmony(8), Amaiyah(7), Andre
Finally, I drove through Wyoming, Montana and Idaho on my way up to Spokane and the Pyles, my first second-family. We’ve spent the time catching up, playing music (Isaac taught himself guitar during quarantine) and, of course, a massive game of Settlers of Catan. I haven’t laughed this much in years.
Abby & I
My heart is full.
Thank you, Lord, for your provision for me. Thank you for sweet times of catching up with family and friends. Thank you for the Pyles, my first second-family, and the Winters, my second second-family. Thank you for the opportunity to have an impact in their lives, and to serve them! Thank you for the blessings they’ve been to me!
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At first, it was all-too-tempting to believe that COVID had robbed us of our effectiveness and witness.
There are so many people in Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan and Mongolia that need the gospel. There was light to be shared, strongholds to break down, and stories to share.
And yet…
Here I am, smack dab in the middle of an America that’s been forced to put on the brakes and honestly examine what they believe about rest, family, race, unity, mental health, thankfulness, necessity vs. comfort, and so many other things. I’m not hindered by culture, language, or finances like I was on the Race. I have real skills to offer—skills I wasn’t able to offer in our limited time in each country.
Yes, God can use me mightily overseas. But he can also use me (dare I say even more mightily?) here. Over these weeks, He’s made plain to me some of the reasons why He brought me home. He knows I will feel more fulfilled by seeing someone I’ve mentored for years come to a new understanding and fellowship with God than seeing hundreds come to Christ, and he’s given me just that opportunity with the Wildhood Rhema retreat.
(Salvation is important, don’t get me wrong. But it is not the only thing God cares about. He created different parts of the body for a reason… and I was made to help keep his garden.)
Coming home didn’t live up to my fears because God had purpose and fulfillment waiting even in the middle of what seemed like a disaster.
All I needed to do was continue to look.
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Pray with me:
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For my squadmate who is visiting right now, that God would confirm the calling in her heart, one way or the other, and then show her the way he intends to provide for her!
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For our Rhema retreat and the hearts of the students who will come. Pray that they will come, despite COVID. Pray for protection from the virus and from any spiritual attack. Pray for me as I lead and teach, that I would be a vessel for God, and that He would be made much of during this time. Pray that this time would be the seed of a kingdom revolution in the hearts of these students and in our church!
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For my visa and all details regarding moving to Germany.
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For the Winters, for protection and ease as they visit family in Texas*!
*(Update: the big Winter RV trip mentioned in my last blog had to be cancelled, but—good news—the Winters were able to drive to Texas to visit Jenny’s family for a whole month! The only downside is a selfish one: I had to say goodbye too early. Is it bad that I’m hoping my visa gets delayed, just so I can stay and see them again before I leave?)
