The Plague, Cousins, Advice

We had the plague hit our house a couple weeks ago. If you were to walk onto our back porch, you would be instantly attacked by these little specks you can see on the tape...

They almost completely covered our kids, looking like mud moving up their bodies, biting and embedding themselves in the skin. It was terrible. Under a magnifying glass they looked like baby ticks. But our doctor sent them in and an entomologist at Iowa State concluded that they were bird mites.

Lesson: Never let a bird's nest anywhere on or around your house.

After spraying and getting rid of the nest, the plague cleared right before we welcomed family visiting from the other side of the globe. First time together in 2 years!

The cousins loved meeting each other for the first time...

Makai wears his baseball glove at all times. It comes in handy for such a time as this...

The garden is ripe...

Our connection group went to help out a family in our group clean up from the wind storm that swept across central Iowa and hit their town with 130+ mph WINDS. It looked like a tornado hit Vinton...

What would a blog post be without evidence of kids sabotaging a perfectly good batch of banana bars? Imagine me looking down to see this and then yelling, "JETT??!!!!!!" We then go on to play out the scene from Genesis 3:9-12...

Who knows how long this headless star wars figure has been riding with us? Good thing we didn't rear end anyone. He would've been dead...

I mentioned before the challenge of where to find Rob Bell's new book at Barnes&Noble, but the truly formidable task was finding a home for it on my book shelf. I think I'm happy with my decision...

...Lodged between Idiot's Guide to World Religions and Jesus Under Fire. And yet not too far from church history, as a reminder of the nugget of wisdom my friend David Churchill bequeathed upon me the summer of '98...

"When I was a teenager, I never listened to anyone over 30. Now that I'm over 30, I don't listen to anyone under 300."

Iowa State Daily writes about IA City...

Check out this article (click here) on the front page of the Iowa State Daily newspaper.

Torey, thanks for your willingness and desire to do the story- you really did a great job! It was accurate, informative, and well written.

I hope ISU doesn't take it too hard, losing 50 Cyclones to the Hawkeyes...

Africa

I'm not sure why it took me so long to add the Hope Children's Center blog to my Google Reader, but click here if you want to join me in getting your heart wrecked for the least of these.

Click here if you don't know what Google Reader is, it will change your life by consolidating the time we waste.... errr spend... on the internet.

On a related note, does anyone want to go to Malawi and run with the Leatha Foundation orphanage? It would require a big heart, some entrepreneurial vision, and flexibility with work.

I'm taking applications. 

I made that up. But it's actually not a bad idea. If you're interested let me know.

Our backyard, the public park

Dude shows up the other day with his grandson and decides to go for a swing.

Our swing.

Cameron: "Shouldn't somebody know that it's not a park if there's a house in front of it."

Beck [yelling]: "Hey, go away!"

Me: "Let's go tell him about Jesus." [I'm thinking, "What's the worst that can happen...he gets offended and leaves our yard."]

Well, he didn't speak a single word (or syllable of English). So I busted out my Chinese bag of tricks (three words: "Neehow" and "Shey Shey"). Technically it's only two words, "Hello" and "Thank you", but when I say "Shey Shey" I feel like I'm saying two words... "thanks thanks"- see, that's two words. So in total- Hello and Thanks Thanks- Three words.

He wasn't too receptive to the gospel, since he couldn't understand it. But per my post on tongues I thought I'd give it a shot anyway. Apparently he didn't have the gift of interpretation because he just stared at me and spoke in Chinese.

On a serious note, it is a blast having so many internationals in our neighborhood (mostly professors at Iowa State), because (as the metaphor goes) the world has come to our doorstep (or my backyard swing).

What a time in our history!

I don't even have to get on a boat and risk suffering loss. They show up in my backyard and use our swing.

My dad once counseled my aunt, who at the time was experiencing many opportunities in America with internationals and yet desperately wanted to go overseas to be a missionary, "Be careful not to step on orphans on the way to the orphanage."

Lord, help me not to miss the world on my swing.


PS- Leatha the sharp shooter snapped this picture from the kitchen window..."Smile!"...(oh wait, you don't understand English)

Our suffering friend

I often hear pastors and other really spiritual people say we shouldn't pray for physical protection, because suffering is a part of being a Christian, and especially part of being a missionary.

The Apostle Paul must not have been quite as spiritual as these modern preachers (mostly radical missionary types), who propagate this. Consider, for example, Romans 15:30-ff, "...join me in my struggle by praying to God for me. Pray that I may be rescued from the unbelievers in Judea..."

Here's how it intersects my little world. For safety reasons, this will be frustratingly vague...

My relative just saw an international woman come to Jesus through the miraculous work of God (dreams, revelation from the Scriptures, etc). Since that time, her family has hunted her down, her brother back home was stabbed, and just last week two of her younger siblings were kidnapped and are being held ransom. All of this (and much more I cannot speak of here), because she is an "infidel."

Imagine your brothers and sisters suffering for your faith.

I asked her once what would happen if she went home. She said, "They kill me in the airport." Nonetheless, she desires to go home someday to share the love of Jesus with her family. She is ready to die, no doubt.

And as I pray with my kids about this situation, I want them to pray radically Jesus centered prayers for her. I don't want my kids to be cultural American Christians, who regard suffering as a strange anomaly to the ordinary life of following Jesus.

My kids often pray that God will keep her safe. Before today, as one of those really spiritual, radical missionary pastors, I would encourage them rather to pray for her faith and family, not safety.

I can hear our pastor Tom Nesbitt's booming voice, "Safety is not a place, it's a person." True enough.

But I'm encouraged today to pray for God to protect her from suffering at the hand of barbaric, evil men and women. I still pray that God would not allow her to be burned by flames (i.e. Shadrach, Meshak, Abednego), or injured by stones if it comes to that. I join her "struggle" by praying to God that she will be "rescued from unbelievers."

I've always tried (and often fail) to obey the imperative of Hebrews 13:3 as much as possible, "Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering," by letting myself and family get to know someone who is experiencing the reality of suffering.

Will you join us?

P.S.- I still aspire to be a "radical missionary-pastor type"