Time in a bottle

What is it about time that is so alluring to us? We’ve been back two weeks and already, the clock has attacked. I think one of the things that make mission trips so … remarkable is that for a few days, we don’t focus on ourselves. Duh, I know.

I was watching some golf on TV this afternoon - it’s Sunday and we don’t have cable, so it’s either that or some 30 minute add for injectible (is this a word?) botulism - and I chuckled when a pro golfer looked down at his watch in the middle of the 12th hole. Now think about this – what is he looking at his watch for? Does he have a date? Is there a movie coming on that he does not want to miss? Is he bored? Why do we always want to know what time it is unless of course we are so deep into something that the lights can be turned off in the hall outside your office and you don’t even notice? You know why? It’s because there is something within us that whispers that there is something else we could be doing. It says things like; “You have a meeting” or “you’re going to miss class” or “no, it’s not over yet” or something else along those lines. Let’s face it, we have the spiritual attention span of a puppy.

Western thought is time oriented. Everything we do is based around the next thing we need to do. We don’t focus on the now, we focus on the next. Fitting people in, fitting jobs or work in, fitting God in, fitting our family in. To stay organized I have a PDA, a MacBook, and an iMac, and that’s just for work and they all just seem to make me wonder about what I have not accomplished. Anne has several calendars as well and when we go out on a date without Zachary, do you know what we talk about at dinner? We go through our calendars. We’re slaves.

In Russia, we only worried about two different times – what time the bus left the following morning and what time we needed to get up to catch said bus after we consumed our allotment of croissants and boiled eggs. Okay, that’s not entirely true – we did have to work within a time schedule at the orphanages. At the older kids (we worked with them from 1030am to 2pm) we needed to watch the clock to make our rotations. 40 minutes each of a craft, a Bible lesson, and a sport. We rotated so that everyone could do everything everyday, but there was one standing order – if a child was wanting to go deep – stay there, forget the clock.

At the little kids orphanage, (330pm until 530 or 6pm) we just watched the clock because there never seemed to be enough time to do the things we wanted to do, once we found them. (Raise your hand if humming Jim Croce. Funny enough, he wrote that song after the birth of his first ... child.) Time in a bottle? I’ll take a 2-liter with ice. With these little kids, the end of our time denoted the end of the day, which reminded us that we had one less day with the kids. Which made us look at our watches to see what day it was and then count down how many days we had left.

When we lived overseas, we lived in a culture where a 2-hour visit to someone’s home constituted a short stop over. If you wanted to borrow sugar, plan for a 2-hour, coffee fed discussion in a language you barely speak, but is friendly and loving none-the-less. Shopping for a week’s worth of food took you all day. Not kidding. All day, because everyone wants to talk to you. The people never focused on time, they focused on events. You did not “have” to do anything. We would set a meeting for a certain time and when that time came only the Americans would be there – the nationals were still wandering town spending time with people- - how dare they! A spirit led, Family Circus like serpentine path being the fastest way between two points. What would our lives be like if we spent all of our time focusing on others and not on our own agenda and …

I love Anne and Zachary, but I ache for those orphans. Still, two weeks after returning, I ache. Looking at the pictures, finding bottles of bubbles in the bottom of my backpack, talking to the new friends that were, always will be, my teammates only serves to rub in that I miss those kids. Not just the kids, I miss the focus, the energy, the passion, the love. Your whole world revolved around someone other than you. You did not matter, others mattered. I miss that.

I miss being about someone else other than myself. The duffel bags are all gone – they’re in Kenya now with the next mission team. The “Russia room” where we prepped looks like a museum - a display of missional effort. We’re all back into our work, back into our lives, but I find myself looking over at Anne and saying; “I miss being overseas on the mission field." But if I were honest. If I really wanted to be truthful, I would say this; “I miss being solely about others.”

We are perfectly made and uniquely gifted not for our own work or our own betterment or our own agenda. We are perfectly made and uniquely gifted to serve God in whatever capacity He asks. We are children of the King, adopted heirs, God’s aliens & strangers in this world and we should savor, marinate ourselves, in the time God has given us to serve Him until He calls us home. Others, not self.

On second thought, keep the time in a bottle; I’ll take an ocean of God’s love for mankind. Maybe I won’t be so rushed to drink it all in.

Sarah sleeps

Some people can sleep on a plane, and some can’t, and a few people will say they sort-of can sleep, but that’s like they sort-of can breath. Either you can or you can’t. If you sort of can, then you don’t know either way, which means you don’t remember, which means you slept just fine thank you. I’m a no-sleep plane guy. If I don’t sleep across the Atlantic, I might sleep on the connecting, but that's about it. Otherwise, it’s iPods, cheap paperbacks that aren’t cheap, flight magazines and the airline-shopping magazine. Shopping in the middle of the Atlantic! This has got to be an American invention – when the people are bored, maybe they’ll spend money.

Some people however could sleep outside in a metal tent, during a Texas hailstorm. Let me introduce you to Sarah G. Sarah G., or just Sarah, is an anomaly that we are all envious of. She can sleep anywhere. Standing up, lying down, middle of a loud folk show, on a hot bus … on an airplane. She has that remarkable ability to get the rest she needs, when she needs it. This is certainly a gift I would love to have. Anne has it as well. Sarah took every opportunity to sleep - and her energy showed it. I’ve decided not to post any pictures (what was funny in Russia just seems like a cruel idea now), but know that Sarah slept everywhere she could! I still am finding sleep an elusive charecter that taunts at one moment and flees the next.

Now that we are three days back in the U.S., I truly am jealous. I have not slept well since we returned and I slept little while we were there. Frankly, this whole process reminds me that God designed us for activity and rest and that one depends on the other. You cannot serve our God, our risen Savior, and not spend some energy doing it. And you cannot serve without finding physical rest and spiritual rest at the end of the day. Solace is important, refuge is crucial and they both are needed in the battles that we wage, so we need to always return to our Source at the end of the day.

We’re home now and only one bag is missing (camera bag). Everyone is exhausted and still about 6 time zones short of being fully present. As we spent months preparing for this trip, I hope we will spend the rest of our lives reflecting on it. I pray that we will find rest in the One who sent us – our most loving God. May we all awaken from this past week and immediately seize every opportunity to serve! Rest now, for the harvest still waits.

A repose of heavenly order

I love to travel. Actually, I love to be at places - I hate getting there. Planes and airports are fun, but not fun in a traveling sort of way. Good place to people watch, bad place to lounge. Tomorrow will be full of both. I do look forward to the McDonald's in the Frankfurt airport, but unless I get a free upgrade to the "able to sleep and move around" class in the front of the plane, I'll be sitting in cattle car class with the rest of civilization. Here's the good thing though, I only have one carry on and my two check-in bags are so light that I had to pack creatively so my exceptionally dirty clothes don't get all sloshed around.

We packed really well to get here. I mean, really well. Major packing achievement. But when we came, things were well packed and we had no room for anything. Returning to the states, your loosely packed, the supplies are gone, the bubbles are gone, the 12 packages of ziplock baggies are gone, the toys are gone, and it just seems like you are left with too much room in your suitcase. You're also left with too much room in your hearts.

I miss Anne and Zachary and it is now officially forbidden for anyone to talk about their family until we are actually inside the DFW airport. I even got to talk with them briefly, but I miss them. I want to be home. I want to hold them and hear her voice and his laugh. But, where we came here heavy, we're leaving awfully light.

To say the trip was a success would be unfair. How do you gauge this? Decisions for Christ? Maybe, but that's not our job nor was it the purpose. He is the Lord of the harvest, we're just workers. Did we accomplish everything? In some ways yes and in some ways no. The camps had changed so we had to improvise. Frankly, I think the improvisation worked better than what we had planned. But we loved the kids and we received profoundly high praise from the directors and from the Buckner staff. Everything that did come off, came off perfectly. Perfectly. Did we have everything we needed? Yes. Did we love every minute? Yes. Are we sad to leave, but happy to go? Yes. We're coming home and what a great trip we had. God has shone His grace upon us and I feel we wear it now like sunburn.

Instead of supplies, my suitcase now contains a few souvenirs. It also contains clothes that I really should just burn, if they'd even light. Does dirt burn? How about sweat and slobber? Instead of anticipation in my heart, now there is just a lump. A feeling to be fed or ignored depending on the moment. No, not a feeling, a reality. A reality that God is amazing. A reality that the children affect you more than you affect them. A reality that in exhaustive service, comes a worn-out tranquility.

We sleep now for only 3 or 4 hours - if we can sleep at all - before we leave for the airport at 4am. We'll close our eyes and find ourselves reflecting on kids and desiring family and familiarity. We'll sleep as servants should, and find whatever rest God will give us - a repose of heavenly order.

International language of love

I will place a post about our last day sometime later today (tonight). I will tell you this - it has been an excellent week. Excellent. Very smooth, no hitches thus far, great attitudes and hearts. We're sad, and yet excited and so very touched. But, we're also really tired. It's after midnight and last night's blog entry left me with four hours of sleep. I need more, so I can not give you as much right now. So, here is an abbreviated entry.

I realized today that we have not been entirely truthful over the past few days. We had planned a fairly typical mission trip VBS program. Break the kids up into different ages, have three or four workers in each, let them do the entire program, blah, blah, blah. But, we have not done that this time. The reason was because again, nothing survives first contact with reality.

We arrived at camp #14 - the older kids - and were told the ages of the kids were different than we had been told. So, we had to break our four static groups into three rotating groups. Because they had such good facilities, the sports rotation was always on the soccer field, the Bible study either outside (weather permitting) or in the chow hall, and the crafts were at a couple of pavilions and pic-nic tables. Each met for 40 minutes and then switched.

I know, I know - 40 minutes of Bible study for kids? Am I crazy? Yes, I am, but let me say this - it worked. Within the Bible study time, we had a number of activities to keep the lesson going. The sports always worked and they ate the crafts up. T-shirt painting, hair & nails for the girls, leathercrafts, frisbee decorating, etc. The kids loved it! We arrived at the camp at 10:30 (it's about 1 1/2 to 2 hours away from the hotel) and only had until 2pm (their lunch time).

So, everyday, every team member did all three things - Bible study, sports, and crafts. One of the greatest unintended results of this was the closeness between us and the kids. The director at #14 said he had never seen the kids get so bonded so fast! God is so good! Through an unintended change, God brought us all closer together.

After lunch, which was at yet another camp, but without any kids that we worked with, we would head to camp #40, but not without a great meal (it really was) and a brief devotion. We would meet on an unused soccer field and sit on the old wooden bleachers and re-charge.

When we arrived at camp 40, the kids were always still inside. We set the puppet stage up on a playground ... something that made a great puppet stage. I wish you could all see the kids react to the puppets. They would squirm and shreak and clap and it was so sweet and tender. These kids really loved the playfulness of the puppets. We had been able to get some Christian puppet skits, in Russian, and we used an Mp3 player to play them, so the kids could understand the skits. Afterwards, we would head into the areas of each age group (we were broken into four groups that only mixed at the beginning) and work with the kids.

Crayons, markers, hats, shirts, tambourines, all manner of things were made by these kids. But, they always opened with a Bible story. We had taken the Bible story, gotten permission from the publisher of a children's Bible to enlarge the Bible stories we wanted. We made enlarged color copies and changed the words from Russian to English and then laminated them. Now, they can be used over and over by the Buckner leaders that are there!

The only time this was not true was with the more challenged children. I say challenged because honestly, after the first day, we all thought they were angels. Very active angels, but angles none-the-less. With them, we just loved. Played and loved. At one point, several of us found ourselves sitting in these little chairs, all in a row, all humming songs with the children who had adopted us.

After camp 40, we would make the 90 minute or tow hour drive to dinner, and then back to the hotel for de-brief, then a shower, then bed.

I will post some more tomorrow, but I wanted you all to hear what we have been doing. You'll hear more if you are at the reflection service in a couple of Sundays so I don't wan to share too much more.

Keep checking the blog and we'll be home soon!

If tomorrow never comes

I don't even like country music, but I can't get this song out of my head. I don't know the story of the song, (I don’t even like country music, and frankly find it to be an oxymoron) but the song seems to fit the mood, or at least, it will tomorrow.

I tried to warn the team. I told them of the pain involved – the challenges that they would face, but they did not listen and came to Russia anyway. Praise God. I told them that it would happen to most of them, if not all of them – that it would hurt. That it would change them. I’m talking about love. I’m talking about loving today and lamenting tomorrow.

Now, no one misses their family more than I. Maybe to the same degree, but that’s it. I miss my wife and son. But, if teleportation were possible, I’d use it tomorrow. I'd hit the button and be in my wife's arms by lunch time! It’s the last day at the camps. But, it does not exist and I'm here till God's done with us.

You see, tomorrow's the last day with the kids. It’s also the last day we’ll have a part of our hearts. It’s been an exhausting week of giving and taking. Up at 6:30, down after midnight. On your feet all day, on your back as soon as you hit your room - that is, after a brief walk and a potato (make that sauerkraut) filled pastry.

But if I could avoid tomorrow, I would. If I could wish it away, I would. Oh, I’d take all the days I could get at the orphanage, but saying goodbye to the kids does not hurt as much as it removes. Everyone, and I mean everyone has fallen in love with these children. Young and old, cute and slobbery – we have traded a portion of our hearts in order to love and be loved.

The older kids have opened their hearts to us, and us them. We have been captured by their actions and smiles, and their words. We don’t share much in common, but we do share some kind of humanity and the handprint that God leaves on every creation. They are creations of a divine, clever, and gracious God. They are the children of a people whom we used to call our enemy. They are beautiful.

And the younger children have left us breathless. Every lick, (yes, they lick, and yes you'd love it to) every hug, every leap, every everything makes you smile and love. These are kids with every disorder imaginable: down syndrome, fetal alcohol syndrome, CP, and so much more and all the attending problems that come with these challenges. But, they all have smiles. Great big ones and they squeal and clap when they see the puppets, and they chase you around wanting to be held, and you laugh when they jump on you and they laugh when you tell them not to dig through your pockets, and they smile when you leave and you cry when you walk away and you love it. They re amazing. They are God's chosen vessels to communicate grace and you are His chosen vessels to communicate love and when these two heavenly aspects meet, then the wind blows and the sun shines because the earth seems to somehow react to God's smile.

But, please pray for us tomorrow. From 1:30am Texas time until 9am Texas time, we will be with the kids in heart and soul. We will teach, play, and talk with them. We will love them and they will love us. We will embrace them and they us. It will be a hard day of goodbyes - of wondering what will happen to them. It will be a day of celebrating the fact that no one is an orphan who chooses to follow Christ and we will spend considerable time communicating this in all that we do.

Tomorrow is the last day of scattering seed, but the first day of a brand new harvest. Pray that the kids will see Christ for who He is, and will recognize the love that is there in Jesus and will turn their face towards Him. Pray that we'll be able to work through the tears and the joy. Just pray.

The week has been remarkable. The compliments from the stateside Buckner personnel and the workers at the camps have been gracious and encouraging. The director of the older camp recognized that the kids bonded with us very quickly and that they are usually not those kinds of kids, but you know what? He is that kind of God.

Kostia

It's interesting the first thing that pops in your head during intense or dramatic moments. I'm one of those guys that's a little hyper kinetic. This is a really cool way of saying I think too much, which is obvious because for me thinking leads to writing or talking and I do that too much as well. See what I mean? A lover of commas, and a hater of periods. I hate periods. Give me commas or just give me an ending.

That's how today was - a long run of commas. It was awesome, fantastic, uneventful (in the positive way), tender, intense, penetrating, soft, touching, kissable, slobbery, lifting, funny, and quite penetrating.

Kostia was one of the kids we had two years ago. I believe I mentioned him before, but I think I misspelled his name. Of course, his name is Russian, so you truly can’t spell it correctly in English, but you know what I mean. Kostia would be described as a challenge by his mother, and something far less polite by a teacher. Tough kid – and that’s being polite.

A met another Kostia today. Taller than the other, smiles more, and fare more engaging. He smiles and you walk towards him. Natural leader in a way that is annoying for those of us that sometimes have to work at it. I talked to this new Kostia today and realized – he’s the same kid. If you don’t know what God can do with a life, buy a ticket and head over here and I’ll introduce you to this guy. What a wonderful experience.

I was at the craft table where the boys were making t-shirts. Now this is something that they did two years ago and loved. Lots of football jerseys (Arsenal, not Cowboys kind of football) lots of bands, but Kostia made a t-shirt with a smiling character on the back. Wow. A smiling character? Kostia? I don’t think I ever saw his teeth last time and now he puts this simple face on the back of a t-shirt. This was remarkable to say the least but the next thing he did was just painful – and embarrassing. He stood up from the table and turned to me and said something. Since my Russian only includes hello, goodbye, and a few phrases that center around Coca-Cola and bathrooms, I naturally turned to the closest translator to see if Kostia's daytime sport of communicating with a single up-turned finger was back. It wasn’t.

“Do you want this?” He asked. “Do I want what?” I asked like a stunned moron. “He’s asking if you want the t-shirt?” “What t-shirt?” I repeated. As I looked at the translator, I saw her smile. Then I saw his. Then the physical, physical sensation of my heartbeat. He was holding it up, grinning like the beautifully handsome boy he is, holding it out to me. Before I could think, I snatched it out of his hand as if it was the McDonald’s French fries that keep appearing in my dreams. I clutched it, looked at it, and then just stood there dumbfounded. He smiled bigger and then indicated that he wanted me to put it on. This is when I smiled.

It was a medium. An adult medium, but still only fit for my thigh or my wife. No way I was getting into that t-shirt. I told him this, but then I said, “My son could wear it!” It’s probably longer than Zachary, but wear it he will and soon. He took it back, and before I could say anything he had laid it out and began adding to it. A sun on the front of the shirt appeared. It was smiling too.

Flex & Obey

First of all - baby, call me! I need to hear your voice and although I can receive calls, I can't seem to make any! I also can't seem to be able to check email. Just remember it's 9 hours ahead here! Now that I have said that ...

If you start humming a familiar hymn, you're right on the money. First of all, this entry is a day late because yesterday, I could not find the power plug to the Mac because it had been mistakenly placed into a suitcase that was locked in a building at an orphanage on the Gulf of Finland. Part of me wanted to file the insurance claim just so I could have the joy of explaining how it had been lost while transporting 60 miniature barking dogs to orphans on the Gulf Of Finland!

What a remarkable experience. I have the awesome and unique privilege of watching a group of people go through a metamorphosis. My prayers have been answered in so many ways. This group has, is, becoming a different form of what they thought they were. Every night we debrief the day. We do a high-low and a feelings check. I pass around an object (last night it was a bottle of bubbles, tonight it was a bottle of bug-repellent!) and whoever has it has to share their high for the day, their low for the day and then a one word feeling to describe their feelings. Tonight, it was all grins & giggles - for the most part. People expressing how wonderful it is to love and work with the kids. How smooth it is all going - how they are growing and being challenged.

Last night was a completely different story. Tears. Weeping. Sadness. Broken hearts. Even amongst those that had been here two years ago, so much has changed. Some for the better, some for the worse, and some just ... changed.

Orphanage #14 - the older kids looks like a different place. New soccer (football!) court, volleyball court & basketball court all made from a soft resin. Feels like rubber. Great to run & play on. Buildings have fresher paint, but most importantly, the kids are different & the director is different. He seems to genuinely love them and they are better behaved. Even one of the kids from two years ago - Kosta - has been great. Awesome smile, great spirit, great kid! What a work God has done! I'm embarrassed to say that I was stunned when we pulled up. I'll tell you more later, but know things are very different.

Then there's orphanage #40 - the younger kids. Wow. And not a good wow. Not stunned, but overwhelmed. Fewer kids at both, but where the older kids have grown, the younger ones seem ... sadder? No, that's not the right word. Just, a little less energy than last time. Very few kids are here that were here then - less than 10. And no, "Pinky" is gone and I haven't the courage to ask where she is.

The kids at 40 seem worse. But, we have been given access to some of the kids that we could not completely engage in 2006. We are working with all the kids this year - including the very sick and very severe ones. One group has kids that are the most severely handicapped. Down syndrome, fetal alcohol syndrome, CP, and other challenges are there and these kids are not only non-verbal, some of them are almost impossible to control. The first day was exceptionally hard. Tears from everyone - including me. Too many stories to tell here (it's already too long!) but I will tell you this. Rachelle, Byron, Sarah B., Brandon, Michelle, Tad and myself are working with these most challenged children. When we walked away from their area (we're being segregated more this year), we all felt as though we had survived a plane crash. Nothing worked as planned. These kids can't color, can't sing, can't follow the story - but they still love bubbles!

Anyway, so yesterday, we walked away completely spent emotionally & physically. All were weeping, and all were wondering how we would survive. Our lead translator & guide, Masha (that's Tzarina Masha) said "Perhaps we should allow the groups to rotate so they wont be so worn out?" Not a bad thought. We were shot and terrified and wondering what secret energy source might be out there to allow us to survive this week. So, I turned to this team and asked about this idea, and I've never been so proud of a group of people in my life.

EVERYONE, every single member of this group said "Absolutely not."
"These are our kids - we love them, they're ours."
"We're not leaving them!"
I looked at Masha, with tears in my eyes, and simply turned away. What fools would do this to themselves? No language connection, no way to communicate, children that exhaust you instantly (we're talking a more than two to one ratio here) none of the plans will corral or entertain them, none of us owe them anything or have even met them before, so why the dedication? What makes them our kids? The love of Christ makes them our kids. The secret energy source is God. The ability to adapt and endure (today was awesome!) is the power of the Holy Spirit.

When I turned back to Masha, I told her that the team would not leave even if I asked them to - none of them would. All of the teams (there are four of them) are equally dedicated to their group of children. All of them are, quite frankly, in love. Do I believe in love at first sight? Yes, I do. It happened between me and my wife and it happed in a small Russian wood, on the coast of the Gulf of Finland.