Catching Men: Reminders from Fly Fishermen

It’s a beautiful sunny spring day. Away from the hustle and bustle of my everyday life, I’m spending the day at a cabin not far from my home, yet, the scenery makes it seems miles away. The cabin sits along the Cheat River nestled between the Allegheny Mountains. With the exception of a few vehicles passing nearby, the primary sounds are birds singing, wind blowing against the forest and river, and the splashes from fly fishermen’s casts and catches. Sitting outside, I drink in the breeze, the sounds, and the sites. Aesthetically pleasing and brilliantly peaceful.

I watched the fly fisherman closely. At first, a bit annoyed that they were so near my cabin and interfering with my day. However, it was soon evident that the Lord wanted to show me something regarding these fishermen. The first word that came to my mind was incarnation. In Young Life, we use this deeply theological word often. It describes our primary means of evangelizing. It’s rooted in Scripture. It’s God the Father saying to God the Son, “It’s time. Go down there and win them.” And so the first Christmas happens. God takes on flesh. Diety meets humanity. Spiritual meets physical. God walks amidst us and he is named Jesus. The apostle John described it this way – “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” The apostle Paul in his letter to the church in Philippi describes Jesus and the incarnation this way – “Who, being in very nature of God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man he humbled himself and became obedient to death – even death on a cross!” Wow!

In Young Life, leaders go to kids. We enter their world in order to share the Gospel…to win them to the very Jesus who entered our world to win us. So I continued to watch these fly fishermen, I was reminded of the call on my life to enter the rough waters of adolescents to catch and win them to Jesus. I was reminded of Jesus’ prophetic words when he called Peter to follow him, “Come follow me and I will make you fishers of men.” The call wasn’t just for Peter but for all who would call themselves followers of Christ. For me. For you.

I wondered if Peter was with me if he would have observed what I observed. They entered into the waters in order to catch the fish. I grew up in Michigan where the nearest fishing hole was walking distance away. I fished often, but unlike these fly fishermen, I never entered into the waters. Because these men were in the water, they were reaching fish that I would be unable to reach had I brought my pole and casted in from the shore. These fly fishermen had the proper gear and equipment for a good catch. It was well planned before they ever stepped into the river. They had the right bait and they knew the proper technique to cast and catch. They moved around the river searching for fish while always casting. They were patient. They rejoiced when they caught a fish. And they indeed caught fish! The lessons to fishing men for Jesus are incredible.

How could they not catch a fish? The only way to catch fish is to go fishing. Watching a fishing show on television won’t do it. Having the equipment but never putting in water won’t do it. Placing a worm on a hook but never casting won’t do it. Standing near the shore, sitting in a boat, or even being in the water won’t Do it. You must fish! The fly fishermen are where the fish are…in their world. A catch is inevitable. O how I imagine Peter would love seeing the fly fishermen.

Christmas Story Christmas Awe: Thoughts from the Biblical Christmas

The incarnation or Christmas is the ultimate love story. A story other love stories pale in comparison. It’s full of suspense, shock, deception, sacrifice, difficulty, passion, and even humor. The best part of it all is that we are included in the most historical, most powerful, and most talked about story our world has ever seen. You. Me. Everyone. The Christmas story is our story.

The gospels of Matthew and Luke best capture the historical narrative that changed everything. Ancient prophecy coming to fruition. Separate yet consistent angelic confrontations to Mary and Joseph. Mysterious yet scandalous pregnancy. A parallel, yet profound birth of Jesus’ cousin, John. Poor yet rich birth. Shepherds, Magi, an evil king. Through the ages Christmas carols were written telling the story in song.

Although John’s gospel is void of the historical narrative, the first chapter includes the theological implications of the incarnation. Verse 9, we read that the “true light that gives light was coming into the world.” Christmas is often associated with receiving gifts. John may argue that there is much truth to that; however the gift was not a wrapped present but God himself, Jesus the Christ. Verse 12 says, “Yet to all who received him, to those who believe in his name he gave the right to become children of God” (italics added). While Matthew and Luke talk about infant Jesus arriving in a humble cold stable, John captures the Christmas story with an astonishing theologically incarnational statement in verse 14 – “The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us.”

When I look back at the biblical Christmas story, many key words stick out that fittingly apply to our lives and relationship with our Creator and incarnational Savior. Mary is told when visited by the angel Gabriel, “Do not be afraid.” The shepherds are told the same thing when an angel visits them. He also tells Mary that “nothing is impossible with God.” Do we live in fear? What are we afraid of? Do we limit God? What seems impossible in our lives?

Back to the shepherds. The angel declares “good news of great joy.” Moments later, a host of angels are singing praise to God for “peace to men on whom His favor rests.” With the coming of Jesus came joy and peace to all men. Are you full of joy? Do you lay your head down every night with peace in your heart?

When the magi saw the star leading them to Jesus they were “overjoyed.” Upon finding Jesus they “bowed down and worshipped him.” They also “presented” gifts to Jesus. Are we overjoyed because of Christ Jesus? Do we hit our knees in humble worship? Do we offer any gifts to God? Paul suggests in Romans 12:2 that we offer our bodies as living sacrifices. In fact, he says it is our spiritual act of worship!

Profound questions about our life and our faith can be answered with the Christmas story. We should be amazed at Christmas. My hope and prayer for myself and for you this Christmas is that you will find yourself in awe of the incarnation, humbled by King Jesus leaving His throne, and blown away by His unmatchable love for us. That we would respond to our Lord, despite our circumstances, as Mary did – “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said.”

He shall be called Immanuel, God with us!

At Christmas

Growing up at Christmas time meant Santa was coming. That jolly old fellow with his white beard, hardy laugh, and flying reindeer better had finished the cookies and milk I left out for him or doubt would inevitable seep into my conscious. It mattered not that year after year I was puzzled most by how Santa could enter our house since it had no chimney. Every Christmas a trip to the mall meant sitting with Santa. When my sister and I felt too old to sit on that chaps lap, my mom insisted on a picture for posterity. The result, a living room setting with two unenthusiastic fake-smiling teenagers with a plastic four-foot Santa between us. At Christmas, Santa trumped Jesus.

Although Santa reigned supreme in our Christmas decor, there was always something more profoundly powerful for me at Christmas. When the Christmas decorations came out I was given the important job, at least to me, of putting up the nativity scene. Later on, I would let no other mess with my job or how I set it up. I loved it and I took my time with careful placement of each figurine – Mary, Joseph, wise kings, shepherds, the farm animals, and of course the babe. At Christmas,there seemed to be an indescribable connection with the physically and the spiritual when I gazed upon the finished nativity. At Christmas, the nativity trumped Santa decorations.

Of all the gifts I tore open with my name on them early on Christmas mourn, none compared to the three gifts I opened on Christmas Eve each year. Christmas morning were the gifts from “Santa Claus” but the eve of Christmas were from my family. They were not made in a high-functioning toy factory in the North Pole nor delivered from St. Nick. They were full of meaning and thought. Furthermore, they each had gifts that I bought them. I loved giving them my gift and I loved opening their gifts each Christmas eve. At Christmas, gifts from family trumped gifts from a white-haired legend wearing a red suit.

I recall my first Christmas as a Christ-follower. At age 20, I repented of the sin that enslaved me and received the reconciliation that Jesus gave. I would immediately see a change in my life. Change that comes from one redeemed by His Creator. That first Christmas was special because for the first time I really understood what we celebrate at Christmas – the incarnation of Jesus Christ. I understood why the King left His throne to enter humbly into our world. I was amazed. At Christmas, the love story of Jesus coming to earth trumps the story of Santa coming to town.

Last spring, one of my high school guys made the same life-altering decision to surrender his life to Christ and follow Jesus. This Christmas is his first Christmas knowing Jesus. A few days he tweeted: “Christmas is just a great time of Jesus! First Christmas under our lord and savior! #blessed #excited #thankful.” Without Christmas we have no Savior. Without Christmas we find no peace. Without Christmas we find no joy. Without Christmas we find no hope. In light of yesterdays horrific tragedy in Connecticut I am reminded of the words from the Christmas Carol, O Little Town of Bethlehem, “The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.” At Christmas, hope trumps fears.

Hallelujah Moments

Have you ever had a spiritual experience in which you cannot find a fitting adjective to describe it? I call these “Hallelujah moments.” It’s those times when God shows up in a real almost tangible way. It’s when it seems like, despite the other billions of people on the planet, He is completely and utterly focused on you. It’s when the flesh meets the spiritual. Creator communes with His created. It’s intimacy with the King of kings. You find yourself overjoyed and encamped with incomprehensible peace. No words in the English dictionary suffice, so you may make up a word but it too falls short. So you join the multitudes of angels and cry “Hallelujah!”

I had a Hallelujah moment this morning. Let me share a quick backdrop for context-sake. The last few days have been difficult for a number of reasons. I have felt disappointment, frustration, disillusionment, and shame among many other emotions. I have been praying and processing. I have asked many questions to both God and myself. Again, I have prayed and processed. I realized only after this morning that the difficulties of present are really manifestations of unresolved difficulties over the past several years. Deep stuff, I know. I am certain you have been there and can empathize. Last night I pre-made my morning coffee and set the timer to a time most people frown at. I set my alarm to coincide with the brewing of my coffee. I then got on my knees and prayed before showering and sleeping. I was anticipating time with Jesus.

Within moments of my alarm going off, I was downstairs pouring my coffee. I sat in my usual spot on the sofa with my Coffee, Bible, journal, prayer-journal, and IPad (book I am reading is in IBooks). It only took a breath to realize Jesus was already there. If he drank coffee, I am sure he would have been sipping on some as well. I wonder if he was anticipating time with me more than I was. If you think about it, when we are excited about a date or a reunion with an old friend or family member we get there early. That is how Jesus made me feel. Like always, I paused and sat silently waiting for him to show me he has for me to do. Sometimes it may mean getting on my knees or reading a few different portions from Scripture. Other times it may be sitting silently for a longer period of time or journaling. Sometimes it may be a combination of all. I figure he knows me best and I don’t want to box in the God of the universe with my agenda.

I sensed in my spirit that I was to read the book in my Ipad. I am always hesitant to read a book before I read The Book, but I did was I told. Like only the One and only sovereign God can orchestrate, it was exactly what I suppose to read. His timing again was impeccable as I the words I read hit home, deeply. I read about Jesus as prophet, priest, and King – the three offices he holds and are found in Scripture. Jesus began to speak to me as my prophet by calling me on my junk (sins). Yet, h as my priest he did so with such kindness and love. And lastly, as my King he called to give him authority over every facet of my fiber.

My time with Jesus this morning brought revelation of who he is and who I am. I am pretty sure it works that way. Know more the one who loves us the most, know more how to better to live this life – ultimately to bring him glory. Not only revelation, but this morning revealed to me major unresolved areas in my life. I was being renewed this morning because I met with my Maker. I was reminded that I must be more than a mere follower of Christ, but a servant of Christ the King. I left my time this morning different than when I arrived. That also happens when you meet with Jesus. All I could do was say “Hallelujah.”

A Tree in a Story About a Forest

Do you ever take time to ponder your life? I don’t mean on the way home from a movie that stirred your heart strings. I mean the type of life-reflection that takes place on long drives when your passengers are asleep, the radio is off, and the scenery is visually stimulating. I mean the deep reflection that occurs when you wake up before everyone else in your home – the house is quiet and it’s just you, your cup of coffee and the peaceful presence of something profoundly spiritual. In my life, I find a few common denominators to effective life-reflection – quietness, aloneness, and peacefulness. Make no doubt about it, you can have quietness with no peace. Furthermore, you can have peace amidst noise. That’s for another blog on another day. Take these three common denominators and sprinkle it with a setting consisting of God’s creation and you have a place to reflect. Think beach, riverfront, mountains, lakes, or flower garden.

I am a dreamer. I learned some time years ago that not everyone is. Not everyone likes to cast vision. Not everyone is good at thinking futuristically or dreaming of what can be. Not everyone can sit silently for long periods of times. Oftentimes silence makes us uncomfortable. I know teenagers and college students who can’t fall asleep at night unless there is noise. A fan, the tv on, or music does the trick. An American curse is the view that busyness has become an admirable characteristic. That also means that resting or relaxing is viewed negatively resulting in being viewed as lazy. In Africa, I saw the Liberians work hard and rest often. It was a balance I find unparalleled in America. I think the lack of rest, quietness, and aloneness cripples our ability to life-reflect. The inability to life-reflect hinders our ability to dream; to self-assess; to live the right story.

It’s the story we live that is most important. I just read a book recently that served as one of those “a ha” moments in the arena of story. Donald Miller’s A Million Miles in a Thousand Years is about story and the type of story we live. Many of us live boring, ordinary, mundane stories and don’t even realize it. We are fooled into believing our story is exciting, extraordinary, and exceptional. Yet, our story, instead, looks awfully similar to everyone else chasing the American dream. Our story is saturated with self-pleasure and self-indulgence. Self-self-self. If a family, the story doesn’t change – self just becomes plural to include all family members. If our story was a made into a movie, the audience would leave the theater making comments like, “That was a waste of money…at least the popcorn was good.” Watching someone go into debt to buy their dream car while driving fast down a winding road with the top down won’t win any Oscars nor will sell many tickets. Yet, that is where we live.

Miller wrote that we are a tree in a story about a forest and it was arrogant to think any differently. Then he writes, “The story of the forest is better than the story of the tree.” I am convinced too many of us live the story of the tree. The tree story falls exceedingly short of the forest story. The thing about it is that the story of the forest is attainable. The forest story is life-giving. It’s adventurous. It’s risky. It’s sacrificial. It’s epic. People find it worth watching. They retell it. They are drawn in. They enter the forest. Their story changes for the good.

I was reading the story of Jesus calling his first disciples the other day. I know this story well and nearly have it memorized. Yet, this time was different. The Bible is like that. You can read it over again and then one day BOOM! Your eyes are opened to something new, refreshing, and exciting. The Bible contains all the main characters of the story of the forest. In this particular story, Jesus is walking along the beach and sees two fishermen at work. They were brothers. Jesus enters their workplace and says to them, “Come follow me and I will make you fishers of men.” Immediately the brothers leave their nets and follow Jesus. These brothers, Simon and Andrew, in following Jesus rewrote their stories. Their stories would no longer be merely about earning a living, providing for their families, and worshiping at the synagogue on Saturdays. Not that these things are intrinsically bad, they are just incomplete and not worth retelling.

Simon and Andrew entered the story about the forest. In doing so, their story became spectacular. Not because of who they were but because of who Jesus is. Simon, called Peter, became the leader of the earliest Christians. He lived life. He helped pass baskets of a few pieces of bread and fish to thousands of people only to see them multiplied. He lived a miracle. He became a participant. He walked on water. He saw the unbelievable. Later, he too performed miracles. He lived life to the full. He died living the story about a forest.

Jesus invited Simon and Andrew to a better story. He does the same with us. Some of us want to be in a better story but are unwilling to leave our fishing nets behind to do. As a result we live the tree story. Others try and do both. They keep on fishing and occasionally jump into the better story; however, when the better story demands too much sacrifice, they retreat back to them old story. It’s more comfortable for sure, but falls short. The rest, like the two brothers, make a clean cut from their old story and enter with uncertainty, yet with faith, the story of the forest. It will cost them everything. But in everything lost, everything is gained.

This morning I looked out at the English Mountains in Tennessee from a friends patio and self-reflected. How is my story? Is it worth retelling? Where must I create new stories to better live the forest story? Have I gained everything?

Take Homes

If you read the preceding blog you would have sensed the impact poverty and orphanages had on me. Last night we concluded with a group meeting. It was a beautiful time of worship, prayer, Scripture, and sharing with our new friends. Not just beautiful – it was powerful. There is something about the brotherhood and sisterhood, the community that is shared between the family of God. Instant fellowship. Relationships bond instantly. It’s sweet fellowship. I pray if you don’t follow Christ, you will; thus experience the power of God that we, His children, have.

As we shared in the group what we learned from the trip I shared two things. Two take homes among many things that I am still processing through. They are serving and simplicity. Jesus says he didn’t come to be served but to serve. His life was the ultimate act of sacrifice, of service. Scripture speaks strongly and often about serving. It should be a distinguishable characteristic of those who call themselves Christians. Find me a Christian who doesn’t serve often, serve willingly, and serve often I would declare that although Christian, they are not following Christ.

I enjoy serving. Sometimes I dread it. The spirit is willing but the flesh is a pain in my neck. I strive to be like Jesus. To serve like Jesus. I fall short – we all do. My African friends fall short too, just not as short. They serve at a level unparalleled in my world. They drop whatever they are doing to serve you. They wouldn’t eat so we would. It’s wholly sacrificial. It’s accompanied by joy. It looks a lot like what I see when I read about Jesus in Scripture. I have a long way to go in my service; however, witnessing great servant hearts here motivates me to serve more effectively. Not only do I imitate Jesus when I do, I also get to be a blessing to someone as the Liberians have been to me.

Years ago, I read a book a small book by Charles Swindoll called “Intimacy with the Almighty.” He gave four means to intimacy with God – Simplicity, silence, solitude, and surrender. I began to cultivate these in my life. I desire nothing more than to know the One who loves me the most. Yet, simplicity was the one I heard of the least. How do you simplify your life? How does that cause more intimacy with Christ? I made changes in my life and liked the result. The simpler life is the more time and emphasis the things of importance receive. For example, if I am spending 10 minutes trying to figure out what to wear among a closet full of clothes, which most I may only wear once a month, I lose 10 minutes that could have been used reading Scripture, praying, or even speeding time with Janell or the kids. Things that have meaning. Things that love you back. That 10 minutes adds up over time.

I won’t share with you all the things in my life I have simplified since reading Swindoll’s book; however, I will tell you that I have struggled with fully understanding simplicity’s effect. I have felt I haven’t simplified enough. It’s difficult in America. Like serving, my African friends gave me the visual. They live out simplicity. Most Africans are simple. Most have little choice. The lack of power, smart phones, transportation, vacations, and toys quickly eliminate options to complicate life; to often fill our lives with things with little meaning. Not that the things I listed are inherently bad, but they can pull us from what is most important. I see simplicity lived out. I tasted it. I experienced it. It drew me into deeper union with my Maker. It can be replicated in America. Certainly not at the extreme found here in Africa, but subtle changes. It will be hard. It will be against the flow of society where material matters. It may be found with odd looks from people. Yet it will produce, I am convinced, a stronger family and walk with Christ. A simpler life will aid me in being a better husband, a better daddy, and a better child of God.

Thank you Liberia! Thank you Lord!

Final Day: Orphans

I realized I wasn’t accurate on my days. We would have been on the continent of Africa nine days after we depart today. This trip has been life-altering, as expected. I am still unpacking all the things I saw and experiencing. I suspect it this process to continue even when I arrive home. I think our whole group is reflective and grateful.

Yesterday was our last full day in Liberia. We experienced a Pentecostal Liberian church. For lunch we went to a hotel for a buffet. Then it was off to the orphanages. I must admit, being a father, I was both dreading and looking forward to this aspect of the trip.

We divided all our items of toys, bubbles, coloring books, etc. that we brought into two bags for two different orphanages. We were told we would stop and interact with the orphans at one location and merely drop off another bag at another. Between both orphanages there were about 150 kids ranging from babies to older teens. The one we stayed at had 72.

They all sat in chairs politely. James led them in a game of Simon Says. He explained Young Life. The director of the orphanage shared the history and functioning of the orphanage. We were told their were two types of kids – orphans and abandoned. The former parents died while the latter were abandoned by their parents. Many of the abandoned children were brought as small children to the orphanage by soldiers or social workers during the war. Everyone, I mean everyone, has been effected by the wars. All have a story.

After presenting the bag of donated items,I was asked to pray over the kids. Another incredible honor. Finally, we could play with the kids. A few of us guys played ultimate frisbee with some teens. For the record, my team beat Joe & Brad’s. We played matchbox cars, hackey sack, taught them the hokey pokey, paper-rocks-scissors, and just interacted. These kids were so joyful. They loved us without reservation. We reciprocated. It was mutual. We got a good group picture and then we said goodbye. It was hard to go. I spoke to the director. He thanked me. Looking deep I to my eyes he asked that we not forget them. How could we? I thought.

Sadly, it is unlikely any of the orphans will be adopted. Corruption in adoptions in this country caused them to cease international adoptions. Tragic. I am told they are working on it. I pray things change so these kids can find a home. We only shook hands and conversed the kids from the other orphan for about 10 minutes. Again, I presented the bag of donated items to the director. Then we were off.

I can’t speak for our team, but the orphanages affected me deeply. I was upset thinking about these children with no family. I thought of the number of orphanages we didn’t visit in Liberia. I suppressed thoughts of how many orphans fill our globe. To make things worse, we had a long drive back to our house. A long drive full of deep thought. A long drive passing thousands of people who live in unthinkable conditions compared to what we are used to. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I felt helpless.

I know full well that in West Virginia alone there is extreme poverty. People live with no power, have limited clothes, and are in need. But not in the masses like here. I became angry with each shack, I mean home, we passed. I questioned how any person on this planet could wear a dirty shirt with holes in it? Or how children only had long shirts that acted as dresses. No pants or skirts? I thought of my full dresser drawers at home. Certainly there are enough clothes on this planet to clothe everyone. Where is the disconnect? It broke me. I was helpless. I was ready for home. I am ready. The impact of poverty; the effects of war; the orphanages – all have left a lasting imprint on my life. I am different. I will live differently…I will pray differently.

Day Six: Chelsea

I call Rancy “the man.” He resembles Eddie Murphey. He’s only about 5’4″. He was the camp manager for the camp trip which meant he was on point for all the coming and goings of camp. Today we went to Rancy’s house and helped paint the inside of his house. He actually doesn’t live there yet. He has been working on it since 2010. It was a privilege to sweat and paint in his house.

After Rancy’s we went to a nice restaurant. I had some ribs and french fries accompanied by a ginger soda. A nice breeze from rice. Some of our team went back to the market to finish up some shopping. The rest of the day we relaxed and enjoyed sweet community.

The high for most of our day was watching the highly anticipated European championship soccer game between Bayern Munich and Chelsea. I must admit I had no idea this game was even happening. The funny thing is one of the Young Life staff here has been wearing a rubber Chelsea wrist band all week and I couldn’t figure out why she had one with a woman’s name. By 6:45 pm local time I knew this Chelsea wasn’t a woman.

All but two of us cheered for Chelsea. They were the underdawgs and generally Americans like the underdawg. Our Liberian friends seemed to like Chelsea too. One of their players was African and from an adjacent country. In fact, this guy scored the winning goal. The game was great. Being a football player, I’m thankful for my brother-in-law Todd, the women’s futbol coach at Campbell University. Because of Todd I’ve learned to appreciate the world sport and understand it much better. The game ended in regulation tied. After two overtimes it was still locked at 1-1. Penalty kicks decided game.

We cheered and jumped like crazy after the African won the game. We went on the outside balcony and the streets were buzzing with excitement. Liberians rode up and down on their motorcycles beeping their horns in elation. We joined in the cheering as if we were die hard futbol fans. Chelsea was trending on Twitter and I felt a part of this global excitement.

The only other thing I need to write is something we learned tonight in our evening meeting. We were told that many of the kids at camp never slept in beds or used a toilet prior to coming to camp. Never used a toilet? Not sure what to say after that other than the fact I’m so grateful my journey, my story, has brought me to Liberia. I’m living what Jesus promised in John 10:10b – “…I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

Day Five: Say So and Rest Day

Today we slept in. A few of us struggled with upset stomachs and such; yet we managed to eat breakfast – bread, hot dogs, cold ham in bread, hard-boiled eggs, and cream of wheat. Did I mention they eat here!

Before I get into today’s activities I would be remisced if I didn’t share one thing from yesterday. It is tradition in Young Life that at the last club meeting we do a “Say So.” This is from Psalm 107:2 which says “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so…” Every kid who makes a decision for Christ has the opportunity to “say so” in front of their peers. It consists of saying your name, where you are from, and a statement about the transformation Christ did in their life. Here in Liberia they also do a “say so” but it is slightly different. They had all the kids raise their hands and then come up to the front of the room. After a prayer the “say so” begins. I was blown away they asked me to pray a blessing over the students who made decisions to follow Christ. In Liberia, students get up front and testify. It is much longer, less organized, and very chaotic. About 4 or 5 kids stood up. The rest of the kids were loud and at times disrespectful until…

A beautiful girl, age 17, wearing a yellow flowery dress. She stood up and started to sing quietly in an angelic voice. Her song was a prayer. After she sang she testified. After testifying how good God is she exhorted her peers to turn to Him. It wasn’t what she said that made an impact it was the fact that not a kid in the room said a word when she stood before them. We all were locked in by her presence. The Spirit of the Lord was on her. She oozed Christ. Her beauty was far beyond physical. Afterward I found her. I had to talk to her. I wanted to hug her. Instead I told her that the Holy Spirit is very evident in her life. I have been around Christians a long time now and I don’t think I could count on one hand those whose mere presence commanded attention because of the Holy Spirit. I will never forget her and will look forward to seeing her again…if not in this life, the next.

Everything else I could write pales in comparison to this beautiful young girl. Today was a rest day. As mentioned, we slept in. Eventually we went to the market and shopped. It was everything you could imagine. Tons of people and lots of bartering. We bought things for ourselves and for family at home. The stores that sold African items were the biggest hit. After that we went to the ocean. We had lunch and played in the waves. I am always reminded of the power of the ocean. What an amazing Creator! After we got back and cleaned up we had a powerful time of worship, sharing, Scripture reflection and prayer with some of our new friends.

Tomorrow we experience more of Liberia…

Day Four: Dancing, Dedications, & Dehydration

We love the African Young Life team. They love us too. We joke with each other. They taught us a hand shake that concludes with a snap. We generally stink at it. We tell the guys, “You are the man.” They like that. The communication is very difficult at times. Amazing how two groups of people can speak the same language yet sound so different.

Last evening they did a talent night. Each cabin had to come up with a talent. Each cabin did the same thing – dance. Africans love to dance. Africans dance well. Earlier in the day they had an optional time to dance. Most of the campers participated. A few of us did. They laughed at our dancing. Most of us can’t dance. Insert stereotypes and generalizations here. We did teach them a few popular American dances such as the Cha Cha Slide and Cupid Shuffle.

We were asked to come up with a talent. We were excited to be involved. We decided to do a popular skit in Young Life called Poetry Reading. Each person reads dramatically a few lines from a song. After reading it, that song comes on and we dance to it. It was a hit!

Club was the cross talk. The speaker, Paul, did a great job. He told a story of how, at age 14, the rebels were about to force him to join them. His older brother asked to take his place. As a result Paul was safe. Everyone here has stories from the war. The war was gruesome, evil, sad, shocking, and difficult to grasp.

Following his talk, like in America, the campers were given 20 minutes of silence to process the Good News. Our team went and prayed silently together only to have it end to one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard – the African Young Life staff singing praises to God. We followed the sweet melodies as did the campers. The stars were out, despite a tremendous thunder storm only minutes prior. Paul gave kids the opportunity to follow Christ right then and there. Many kids raised their hands and walked thru the threshold of eternity; giving their lives to Christ. We were blown away. We went away rejoicing and could do nothing else but spend more time together in prayers of praise, thanksgiving, and supplication on behalf of the campers…and of Liberia.

That night one of our team members started dehydrating after vomitting a few times. About 2 a.m. the head Liberian YL staff, James, and I took him to the hospital. It was incredible. It was awful. Our guy was put on a bed next to a woman in horrible pain. Only thing separating us from her was a blue curtain. I heard a sound that I thought was the woman going to the bathroom. She cried as she did this. A moment later, a woman walked passed me with a bucket of blood. I found out later that she had miscarried. Five feet away a woman lost her child.

The hospital was dirty and buggy. I was nervous I because I was getting bit by mosquitoes. I only pray none carried yellow fever and my malaria medicine works. Our guy got an IV and started to recover. We were at the hospital for nearly 4 hours. When we left I had to step over blood on the floor from another patient. No one cleaned it. I was reminded much how good my life is in America.

A significant reminder also occurred at breakfast when James told me that he only eats twice a day because he can’t afford three meals a day. I was humbled and saddened that a fellow Young Life staff doesn’t eat three times a day. It’s been a long 24 hours! Life altering!