the paschall family

A Burn Victim, A Burial, and A New Birth

2008-11-15T18:20:00Z

Intense – that is the best word to summarize the week spent in the village of Ndiadiane. The first day the team arrived to greet the chief, a concerned young woman latched onto one of the New York ladies and quickly pulled her inside her compound. There inside the hut, she pointed to her older brother, Latir, slumped over with severe burns all over his back, arms and head. We had not been in the village 5 minutes, when we realized that we had walked into a crisis situation. About 25 years old, we were told that he suffers from seizures and the night before had thrown himself into a huge pot of boiling water cooking on the ground. The heat of the fire and water literally melted his skin off while he shook through the duration of the seizure. I’ve never seen such extensive burns and raw flesh. It was difficult to imagine his pain or even look at. Fortunately, there was a doctor and nurses on our team who could make an assessment. The team decided that we needed to bring him to the hospital that night and treat his wounds. On a lighter note, on the way he did ask me for some money to buy tobacco but I told him “I think you’ve had enough fire for one day”.

The team returned to the city of Thiès that night and prepared for a 3 day/2 night camp-out in the bush. This was the third visit this year from one of our supporting churches, Eastern Hills Bible Church, who have committed to building a long-term relationship with a rural unreached village. Ndiadiane is truly off-the-grid. There are no street signs only dirt paths and ancient landmarks; there is no electricity or running water only wells and hard living. Every meal is cooked over a fire, every grain is pounded by hand, and every field is cultivated with simple tools. One night I enjoyed eating peanuts roasted in the shell, the dried plant used as kindling and while the embers were still hot we picked through the blackened shells in the sand. The team brought tents, a portable potty and plenty of granola bars. We slept under an open African sky and woke up each morning to the baying of donkeys and crowing of roosters. Our meals were prepared by Jaqueline, the wife of one the pastors from the church in Thiès. I was especially proud of how well the six ladies on the team adjusted to the rustic conditions, lack of showers and long days of ministry. There were also seven men, three pastors from San Diego, three from Syracuse and myself. I was amazed how God forged such a wonderful team of gifted individuals who had never met before but quickly built friendships and discovered their unique role on the team.

The first day, the medical clinic kicked off with the help of 5 Senegalese nurses from the Christian hospital in Thiès. We experienced the normal challenges of language, organization and diagnosing tropical illness through interpreters. But approximately 150 people were treated before we closed up shop and got ready for dinner. The first night in the village, a special celebration was planned by the chief and he had arranged a griotte (musical drumming group) to play. After the sun went down, people began to assemble and without any prodding the kids began to dance. There is something special about dancing in the dirt with an African village that removes barriers and provides a common activity for expressing joy. It reminded me of the stories my great-grandmother, Winifred Campbell, told me of the good old days when the farming communities would organize family square dances - old and young alike would gather and dance with dirt from the field still stuck in their boots. In Senegal, the sabar dance is an organized art form. A circle is formed and individuals enter the middle for a few moments while the rest clap to the beat of the djembés. The women and men dance at different times and the Americans did their best to mimic the moves and keep up with the rhythm. I brought my Carvin acoustic guitar and played a couple of songs in the Serere language that I have learned, then the team sang a couple of praise songs in English after we had the words translated.

We were still waiting for the chief and elders of the village to join us, when one of our translators told me privately that the party would need to stop immediately because the chief’s wife had just died. The news was not to be shared publicly yet, so we paid the drummers and wrapped up the program. A few moments later, the sounds of joy were replaced by wailing and mourning. All through the night, we heard the cries of the village as they responded to grief. Hundreds of people began to assemble outside the chief’s compound and suddenly the intensity mounted. The elders of the village decided to cancel the health clinic in front of his hut and our team gathered to pray for wisdom and a Christ-like response.

The choice to camp out in the village was an intentional decision made by the church in New York to try to connect on a deeper level with the people. Little did we know how providential our presence would be. That night we received a crash course on what to say and not to say when there is a death. Soon the team was ministering to the extended family and with the help of translators, learning to walk a difficult path together. Later that night, the team leader, Mike Rufo, and I had the privilege to talk at great length with the chief about his personal loss. He really struggled with the weight of carrying the needs of his village (sickness, a collapsed well, poor crops, depletion of young people working in the city etc.) while also dealing with his own grief. We did not know how this tragedy would affect our ministry, but in that moment, we knew that God wanted us to be here during this time for a reason.

The next morning, we received permission to move the clinic about 10 minutes away and set up a make-shift clinic in a small school building. While we were waiting for the Senegalese nurses to arrive, a few of us walked over to minister to the chief’s family as they waited for the body to be transported from the city hospital. The wails and weeping continued and then I heard a groaning that sounded a little bizarre. I walked over with my translator and watched as a young woman with a baby on her back collapse on the ground and begin to shake. Initially I was unsure of how to read this situation, but my Senegalese brother said, “Matt, this woman is possessed by demons”. The women from the village covered her in a sheet and poured water on her head to try to soothe her, but I went to get the members of the team to pray for this woman. They surrounded her and prayed in Jesus’ name for deliverance, peace and protection. (video clip) and then I began to notice other women lining up to be prayed for including Moussu, the daughter of the chief. Before we prayed, I asked the woman to remove any amulets of black magic and understand that the power of God cannot be mixed with Satanic evil powers. After we prayed for her, she left and cleansed her body of these evils objects and asked the women of the team to speak with her privately later. So after an intense morning, the team was ready to open the second day of the medical clinic - that day another 180 people were treated.

When the team returned to the main village, there were still many people coming to see the chief’s family. Earlier that afternoon was the burial. A deep hole was dug under a pagan pangole tree which is the traditional place of sacrifices and spirit worship – a vivid picture of their desperation to ensure safe passage for their loved ones to the next life. None of us were present for the burial rituals, but the village knew that we had expressed our condolences.

Late that evening, the women walked over to the chief’s house again and asked to talk to Moussu. She came out with another family member and the team spent a long time talking about Jesus and his power over the darkness. They read scripture, shared their personal faith stories and encouraged this young woman to become a Christ-follower. Another Senegalese believer joined the conversation and confirmed the reality of Jesus’ life-changing power. By the end of the evening, Moussu had decided to place her trust in Jesus only and begin to attend the small worshipping community that had been begun near her father’s hut. The ladies came back and praised God for the opportunity to follow up and minister to the chief’s family during such an intense week.

The third day, the clinic opened early and already lines were forming outside. One dear elderly woman, probably 90 years old, had walked 3 miles with her grand-daughter and great-grand son because he had a severe hernia in his groin. I gave her a chair, water and some egg omelet and the team decided to cover the expenses and bring them back to hospital when we returned to town later that day. While the medical team tried to see all the people waiting, the children’s ministry team organized a kid’s club under the big tent. It was great to hear them tell Bible stories, sing songs and tell the kid’s how much God loves them. It was even more powerful with a medical clinic meeting the physical needs of families. Mothers, fathers, grandparents listened to the God stories and realized that this group of foreigners was unlike any other they had ever seen. They knew God loved them, because He had sent them comfort and help in their time of need.

When the day was finished, we closed up the clinic and counted names registered. In three days, the team had provided medical care to over 500 people (not bad for a community with a combined population of around 1,400). Eastern Hills Bible Church had also provided 120 more mosquito nets, to add to the several hundred purchased back in May prior to the rainy, bug season. Already, the village said that they have never seen such good health for their children and attribute this to the protection provided by the donated mosquito nets - a simple investment, but one that has already saved lives. During the week, members of the team met with village leaders to begin a pilot program for a drip irrigation system that could greatly increase the productivity of crops year round while conserving water and energy to keep seedlings alive during dry season.

In a matter of three days, we covered the full gamut of human existence – suffering, healing, celebration, mourning, death and life, but there were glimmers of light and rays of hope piercing the darkness. Space does not allow me to talk about many of the other stories that happened during these three intense days, but God worked through us in an intensive way and I believe that He was glorified in our efforts. One of the pinnacle moments occurred on our last Sunday morning, when we traveled back to the village for “church”. We had invited the Chief to come to the service but we weren’t sure if he would, in light of the recent events, with his son being burned and his wife dying. But when 50 of us all crammed into that tiny thatched structure, there he was sitting next to Mike Rufo and a few other elders from the village. In front of them, was a group of wide-eyed children the next generation who have the opportunity to hear God stories and grow up in a place where there is hope. Seeing the enormity of the task and the faces of God’s image brought tears to my eyes as I preached a simple sermon.

The relationships between the Americans and the unreached village deepened beyond our expectations. The team responded graciously to the chaotic and challenging circumstances of life in the village – but now we understand the realities of life in a rural village. Even though this place may be off-the-grid to the modern world, God knows their name and is doing a specific work in this place. It was truly a privilege to join Him where He was already working!

What does the World Think of Us?

2008-10-06T21:37:00Z

For Americans, living abroad in Europe these days has definitely created some interesting moments. Like when Girard, the local policeman we see every day, stopped me in the middle of the road to ask who I thought would be the next President. Or when Mohammed, the Algerian man who owns The Golden Wheat boulangerie, wants to debate the war in Iraq each time I buy a baguette. Or the worried woman I met in the park who wants to know how the financial situation got so bad in America. It's hard enough to give well-informed answers in my mother-tongue, let alone talk politics and global macro-economics in French. But somehow, I find the words to express my thoughts or admit my ignorance of the bigger issues at play. Since we don't have cable television and our understanding of the French newspapers is spotty at best, most of our news comes via internet or from family. As a communication and journalism major at UCSD, I studied mass media, but living overseas has created a heightened awareness of how much we live at the mercy of the information mediated to us.As a Christian who has been called to show compassion among a religious group that is often in the cross-hairs of conflict, we need to be diplomatic and discerning about how we portray our identity on foreign soil. We are primarily ambassadors of Jesus.

Here in Paris, I have developed a friendship with a Christian man from North Africa who disagrees with most of the politics of America, but is still convinced that God is using America for His purposes in the world. For instance, he encouraged me as a new missionary because his wife became a Christian through an American missionary couple in Toulouse. Now he has become my prayer partner and tutor to help me learn how to pray in French. Even though we may see things very differently, we share something that overrides our opinions. Namely, the love of Christ and His perspective on life and a greater destiny for the nations.

Sometimes I think it is healthy to ask, "What does the world think of us?" But it is more important to ask "What does God think of us?” and then let the world make up their mind.

Is your transformer plugged in? from Matt...

2008-09-14T12:51:00Z

This is an electric transformer. For American appliances to work overseas, we must buy these devices to change the voltage from our geographical region to work in the outlets of a foreign place. American appliances work on 110 volts, but in France and also in Senegal the current is 220 volts. So we need a transformer to “step up” or double the voltage.In a similar way, we need a transformer to be able to work in a foreign culture. You can’t just plug in things and expect them to work the same way they’ve always worked. There must be a transformer which enables us to adapt and function properly. The key transformer is language. Without it, you cannot build relationships, communicate or function in a community. Probably one of the biggest struggles for those who have embarked on the road of learning a new language is the feeling of powerlessness that you feel by not being able to function or do the things you normally have done in your own country and language. You may not know this, but an electrical transformer helped me to meet my wife, Nicole. We met 15 years ago in Siberia, Russia while we were both in college on a summer mission trip. I came with a large group from my church in California, Emmanuel Faith Community, and Nicole was with a group from her home church, North Syracuse Baptist in New York. The team stayed in the same hotel for two months, but after the first week, Nicole had already fried her transformer with a curling iron, so I offered to loan her mine. Not very romantic, but the first gift I ever gave my wife-to-be was an electrical transformer. Unfortunately, a week later, there was another strong burning smell from down the hall and my gift was blackened beyond repair. On January 8, we will be celebrating our 15^th wedding anniversary in Africa. It is ironic that at this stage in our life, we are still buying electric transformers and trying to figure out a whole new system of doing things. But the good news is that we are learning language, the transformer is working, and we’re starting to function properly again. Not that we have full power to do everything, but at least we feel plugged in and we’re comprehending and communicating with the people around us. The cool thing is that learning to live through another language begins to transform more than just your mouth, but also your heart.For example, every other Friday night there is a prayer meeting led by an Algerian man named Camille, who has a passion for North Africa. He has lived in France for 40 years, but he became a follower of Christ when he was 21 years old through a supernatural revelation and series of dreams. We met last year because our children happened to go to the same school. Camille speaks no English and, at the time, I spoke very little French, so last year there were huge gaps in our conversation. I still remember trying to pray with him and must have sounded like a stuttering caveman. But last Friday, Camille re-told his testimony and I was so blessed to be able to finally understand him and pray with much more fluency. We prayed together that God would reveal Himself in a special way during the month of Ramadan. Afterwards, he told me that he had really seen a marked improvement in my French. I know it was still choppy, but coming from a French-speaker, this was a huge encouragement.This past weekend, Nicole and I took the kids to a festival and walked by several booths from the community groups and sport clubs in our town. We met several people, including a woman from Senegal, who was representing the West African Association. Nicole and the kids talked to her about moving to Africa. She gave us some helpful advice and then commented that our kids spoke French without a foreign accent. In fact, one man said that he did not know our kids were American because their accent was so good. It is encouraging to be able to meet people or sit in a church service and actually follow the sermon. There are some interesting things that happen when you can actually begin worshipping God in second language.During chapel, I have begun leading worship. Nicole bought me Carvin acoustic guitar last April for my 40^th birthday, but last year I was not confident enough to sing in French and focus on the music at the same time. But this fall, I am scheduled to lead singing during several of the student chapel services. When you sing songs or read a verse of the Bible in another language, it can take on a deeper meaning because you are focusing more on the words rather than just going with the flow. Then when the comprehension level climbs, you actually find yourself focusing on God and marveling in the fact that God is a Father who can hear the cries of His children in any language. He is not limited by our poor pronunciation or word choice because His spirit is translating the human heart. God promises us, “the Spirit helps our weakness, for we do not know to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groaning to deep for words, and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (Romans 8:26-27) Right now, there are many people in our lives who are going through difficult times. Sometimes, from a distance, we can’t even find the English words to express our prayers. The amazing thing is that God takes our limited knowledge, simple words and tears and translates it all and transforms it into a beautiful prayer of intercession. Worshipping God is hard in any language but He has given us His Spirit to allow us to plug directly into the power source for communicating with God. We thank God for those who have interceded on our behalf, sometimes without a full understanding, but the Spirit of God always steps in and helps our 110 volt prayers to be stepped up to 220 volts and aligns them with the sovereign purposes of God. It is truly a privilege to be the recipient of your faithfulness.

Finding Vision in the Valleys- read Matt's sermon text below

2008-09-03T20:15:00Z

Life is filled with ups and downs, peaks and valleys. Here's an overview of our last year. In August of 2007, we were launched to the mission field by the miraculous provision of God, we raised our support in record time, the stories of God’s supernatural power were fresh in our mind, we were motivated by the vision which God had called us (training pastors in a West African country where less than .01% are believers). Then we landed in France for language school and life got strangely hectic. The stress of culture and language slammed us in the face, our bodies were often sick fighting French viruses (including several trips to the doctor and an overnight in the hospital), we felt claustrophobic moving from our house to a cramped apartment in a huge city, we felt trapped because we didn’t have a car the whole year and were at the mercy of the public transportation system which seemed to constantly be on strike and paralyzed the city for weeks, our kids often walked home in tears after dealing with their strict French teachers, but we couldn’t help them with their homework or even read parent notes from their teachers. Our fuses were shorter after long days in school full-time and evening hours of homework all added a new dimension of stress to our family schedule. Moving to the City of Lights might sound very romantic but let me assure you, there was no real honeymoon. We basically were stripped of everything familiar (no friends, no church, no family), and went into immediate survival mode. There were moments when we were frustrated to the point of questioning whether we could finish this course and often felt like dropping out. We went through one valley in February when we had to decide about extending our language study an additional semester. Though we were at the top of our class, we were still a long way from a proficiency level needed to teach and preach in French. Meanwhile the dollar was dropping and we had only budgeted one year of language, so we knew that staying would deplete our funds for moving to Senegal and getting our house and car. In the end, we prayerfully decided to stay for the fall semester. Four months may not seem like a long time, but when you’re walking through a valley…it seems like an eternity.For those who have followed our journey, I have tried to be transparent with our struggles but I also wanted to show how God was speaking to us through it all. We have appreciated those who’ve supported, prayed and sent notes of encouragement. But we also know that our struggles cannot be compared to some of the life-and-death situations that many of our friends and family have gone through or continue to deal with. Our faith-journeys intersect, but I don’t want to sound like a martyr or expert in human suffering because there are some in this very room who have walked through much deeper valleys.Perhaps the next time we return from Africa, in the fall of 2010, I will be able to share some mountain top stories, but right now in 2008, we are here to share how we are finding vision in the valley. Several times this year, I was drawn back to the story of Elijah in 1 Kings 18-19 because here you see a man of God struggling on the rollercoaster - riding the victories and the valleys of life. As I read and re-read these two juxtaposed stories, the Lord ministered to me and gave me back his vision in the valley.The first story happens on the mountain top of Mt. Carmel, 1 Kings Chapter 18. This is familiar Bible story that I’ve preached many times in Senegal to demonstrate the power of the Living God over the spirits of animism and fear. Here’s a brief review…Elijah lived during a time of terrible moral compromise and spiritual decline. The people of Israel had abandoned the true God for false idols. King Ahab and Queen Jezebel in the Northern Kingdom and Jehosophat in the Southern Kingdom of Judah openly encouraged godlessness. The prophet Elijah appeared on the screen in 1 Kings 17 without genealogy or introduction to deliver a message of divine judgment involving a 3 ½ year famine when people’s crops, livelihood and personal wealth literally shriveled up in the dry sun. But even the drought did not capture people’s attention as they held onto their false hopes and false gods to rescue them. The idolatry of Baal Worship ultimately led to a showdown between 450 cult leaders on Mount Carmel. Two altars and built and the Baal worshippers begin by dancing and chanting their incantations to no effect. Elijah mocks them by accusing their god of being deaf, on vacation or perhaps relieving himself. This only agitates the crowd of cultist into a frenzied mosh pit of bloodletting and desperation – but all of their activity amount to nothing, their prayers fall on deaf ears and the spectators are squirming from the futility and awkward silence. Then Elijah pours water all over the altar and builds a moat around to drench it with even more water, then prays a simple prayer to heaven. Elijah publicly demonstrated the power of God as fire came down from heaven and engulfed his sacrifice while the phony prophets of Baal fizzled and failed revealing their powerlessness. All 450 false prophets are rounded up an killed. Then Elijah prayed on the mountain and rain clouds formed and the drought ended by divine intervention. Now Israel knew only Yahweh held the power of life and death and only He was the source of rain and good things. In Senegal, the people are trapped by idolatry. Most of them are farmers and eek out an existence by growing peanuts and millet or raising animals. Each day they worship the spirits and offer sacrifices under sacred trees to try to protect their family, produce a healthy crop or prevent evil things from happening. When I traveled there recently, the country was in the middle of a 2 year famine and you really see the desperation. Each night the drums were beating louder than ever and the witchdoctors were in full force trying to conjure up the spiritual forces and fertility rituals to bring rain and ward off calamity. When missionaries present the gospel in many parts of the world where idolatry and spiritism reign, the term used is a “power encounter”. In order to be heard, you don’t just preach words, you must demonstrate the power of God. I could tell you many, many Mt. Carmel stories that I have experienced in Senegal, where God has supernaturally broke in and revealed Himself to people.

This may sound really foreign to your ears – but idolatry is alive and well in our country, it’s more subtle not as “in your face”. Even though Jesus warned us that we cannot have two masters, we mix up faith in God with financial security. Americans can do crazy things when the economy drops. Idolatry is simply trying to meet a legitimate need with an illegitimate thing or behavior. People try to cope with uncertainty by gambling, get-rich-quick schemes, consulting horoscopes and spiritual hotlines, good luck charms, overmedicating, addictions, substance abuse and other forms of escapism are all forms of idolatry - trying to replace God as the source of life and good things.

The miracle on Mount Carmel happened on one of the most visible places of the Holy Land. Mt. Carmel is a bold, bluff which extends from the western coast of Palestine for many miles to the central hills of Samaria. The place where the confrontation took place is situated at the eastern extremity which is also the highest point of the whole ridge called El-Mohhraka or “the Burning Place”. There is a wall of rock which shoots up over 200 ft and is visible over the whole plain and from all the surrounding heights. No spot could have been better for thousands of spectators to witness first-hand the mighty power of God.After the showdown, you could see the prophet bend down and “put his face between his knees”. Although they couldn’t hear his words, everyone would have noticed the changes in the weather. First, a small cloud appeared in the horizon, then a divine deluge. The people must have been ecstatic with joy. I was preaching in Senegal one time when the first rainfall came after a long drought, my last words were “God wants to bring blessing to your village…”, then, we all danced in the dirt.James used Elijah as an example of fervent prayer, when he says in James 5, “The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective. 17 Elijah was a man just like us. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the land for three and a half years. 18 Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its crops”.Elijah was a powerful prophet of God, but he “was also a man just like us”.Let’s pick up the second part of the story in chapter 19.“Ahab rode, and went to Jezreel” (a distance of about ten miles). “Then Elijah girded up his loins, and ran before Ahab”. In the East, it was customary for kings to have runners before their chariots. Perhaps Elijah was trying to give a favorable impression to Ahab and Jezebel showing that while he was zealous to God, he was also devotedly loyal to his king. Whatever his reason for his mini-marathon, he supernaturally flew like a kite and raced past the royal entourage.One would have expected, after such a public demonstration of God’s power, after everyone had seen both fire and water come from heaven at the prayer of Elijah, a 3 ½ year famine ends, now they would all return to the worship of the God of Israel and take Elijah as their guide and spiritual leader, prime-minister of state, and restore God’s blessing to the kingdom. But instead; Elijah is rejected.Elijah ran to Jezreel full of hope, but Queen Jezebel’s reaction dispelled any bright visions of the future.Here begins Elijah’s Journey to the Valley of Beer-sheba19:1 Now Ahab told Jezebel everything Elijah had done and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword.2 So Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah to say, "May the gods deal with me, be it ever so severely, if by this time tomorrow I do not make your life like that of one of them." 3 Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. Jezebel issues a death threat vowing to kill Elijah within 24 hours.

Isn't it true that when we choose to serve the Lord, the enemy puts us on his MOST WANTED LIST?

19:4 while he himself went a day's journey into the desert. He came to a juniper tree, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. "I have had enough, Lord," he said. "Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors."Where was the courage with which he had lately confronted Ahab and all the prophets of Baal? Elijah fled over 70 miles from the Northern kingdom to the southernmost part of the territories in Judah; but didn’t stop there, after dismissing his servant, he hid among the caves of Mt. Sinai, and there longed for death. How do you explain his sudden depression after the miracles at Carmel?When Peter and the Disciples encountered the storm on the Sea of Galilee, it was interesting that this followed directly after a supernatural mountaintop experience…the feeding of the 5,000. No sooner had they finished cleaning up after the miraculous provision of God, the disciples were on a boat. A huge storm began to surge and fear engulfed these men of faith. Every mountain top is followed by a valley of testing where we discover if we really learned the lesson when life gets difficult. Only Peter had the faith the get out of the boat, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” We all doubt, it’s not the absence of fear but the confidence to step out in obedience despite the fear that proves our faith.Hebrews 6:1,6 “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen…and without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is the rewarder of those who seek him.” If you don’t have any fear or risk, you don’t need faith.It’s not the amount of faith that’s important, but it’s the source of our faith. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard well-meaning Christians chide people going through a tough time for not having enough faith. In the end, they just sound a lot like Job’s “spiritual counselors” who presumptuously tried to speak for God but just shot their wounded friend and totally misspoke regarding the sovereignty of God. Remember, when your friends encounter tragedy, often the wisest words you can give are silence.How did God respond to Elijah in the valley? How does he respond to us? In the valley, God touched him and took care of his needs…19:5 Then he lay down under the tree and fell asleep. All at once an angel touched him and said, "Get up and eat." 19:6 He looked around, and there by his head was a cake of bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again. 19:7 The angel of the Lord came back a second time and touched him and said, "Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you."

I like the emphasis here on Physical Touch and Food. God sent an angel to sustain and keep him alive. When you show acts of mercy to those who are struggling, you are the physical arms of God. Don't we all enjoy "comfort food" when we're tired, traveling or far from home?

In 1 Corinthians 7:5-7, Paul wrote to the church, “our flesh had no rest, we were afflicted on every side, conflicts without, fears within, but God, who comforts the depressed, comforted us by the coming of Titus…but also by the comfort in you…your longing, your mourning, your zeal for me”. God always prefers a personal encounter.Receiving notes of encouragement, remind us that people are praying a real ministry for missionaries. We need to pray for and realize the angels God sends our way for they can minister to us in a timely way. We need to be the Sent One God has ordained to listen and empathize with those who mourn.

19:8 So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God.

Even though we often fear the future and the trials along the way, God will take care of our needs, because He knows that we cannot care for ourselves, He always longs for us to depend on Him.

Then God led him to another mountain, not a place of power but a quiet place of intimacy.

19:9 There he went into a cave and spent the night. Perhaps this was the same cave, or cleft of a rock, in which Moses hid when the Lord passed by before him and proclaimed his name, Ex. 33:22. Maybe Elijah was running desperately to the one place where he knew God had revealed himself in the past?When we are stressed out in or have lost our way in the valleys of life, we need to go back to the place where we heard the voice of the Lord. 19:10 Elijah replied in a mantra of self-pity, "I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too." In the valley, God spoke to him in a still small voice…19:11 The Lord said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. 19:12 After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.What an amazing encounter! Our God is always a God of Personal Encounter. He wants to be known and often reveals Himself more clearly when we have come to the place of listening. He revealed His strength and gentleness simultaneously. He is Lion & Lamb, Almighty Intimate One, Rock and Hiding Place, Warrior Shepherd, Inapproachable Holiness yet the Curtain to the Temple has been Torn in two…19:13 (Awestruck) when Elijah heard it, he (reverently) pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" God poses a simple but probing question to Elijah. What are you doing here? Is a cave any place for a prophet of God? When we get depressed, frozen in fear, overwhelmed by the obstacles, the emotions we feel are natural, but we have been empowered to live a super-natural life. We can’t stay there!God has asked me many times this year in France…What are you doing here? Each time he has reassured me again of his presence, provision and will for my life. But I have to be willing to come out of the cave of hiding, listen to his voice and follow his direction. If you are depressed today, God wants you to COME OUT OF THE CAVEWhere can I flee from Thy Spirit? Ps. 139:7 Wherever we run, we cannot hide, we remain under the Heavenly Father’s eye and care. We may get lost in a wilderness, but God never leaves or forsakes us!19:14 Again he repeats himself to God, "I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too." In the valley, God re-commissions him and restores his vision…19:15 The Lord said to him, "Go back the way you came, and go to the Desert of Damascus. When you get there, anoint Hazael king over Aram…Elijah was redeployed on his mission and given specific instructions of what God wanted him to do.When you walk through the valleys of life, God convinces us that He is in control and reminds us of our mission. What we think is plan B, C or D, can be turned to God’s glory. Don’t beat yourself up over past failures or pride yourself in past successes. Walk each day waiting on the strength from the Lord, fulfilling what he has asked you to do, take risks that put feet to your faith, and show mercy to those around you who are struggling or do not yet have hope.

You might be going through a valley of financial struggle, cancer or failing health, family separation, or perhaps you are just wandering in a dry desert without a clear word from the Lord. God wants to speak to you in His still small voice, wrap his arms around you whisper “I love you, come out of the cave, I want to bless you and do wonderful things in your life. This is only a valley. Soon we will be on the mountain.”

You get used to your own dirt.

2008-07-04T13:47:00Z

From Nicole: “You get used to your own dirt…” Sounds like a strange way to start a blog, but this comment has me thinking. I am not sure if it is like this in every city setting, but living in Paris is dirty! Our apartment gets so dusty and dirty and because the walls and carpeting are old and worn my home just always looks grimy to me. I don’t like it and we are not even in Africa yet where the sands blow in the homes all the time!

A friend of mine who lives and does ministry here in France says that it will be okay, not because the dirt situation will change but because you get used to your own dirt and you don’t see it as much after awhile. My first impression was- well, maybe that’s good. I just have to chalk it up to one of the many adjustments we are making here in our new life and weighed against the major adjustments like speaking another language or being so far from family, dirt doesn’t sound so bad. On further thought though- something inside of my type A mind screamed- No! I can’t have my kids breathing this dust and I am sure Adelaide has ingested more than her fair share of dirt this year. I don’t like it. I just don’t want to get used to dirt! Instead I want it to keep bothering me so that I do something about it.

You may be asking why I have shared this whole thought process with you but I think God showed me something through it. How much dirt in our own lives are we just used to now? I am not talking about physical dirt but spiritual dirt- otherwise known as sin. Maybe it just has been hanging around for awhile and we simply don’t see it anymore without the intervention of the Holy Spirit. Maybe we chalk it up to our circumstances and surroundings (ie: living in the city=dirt!) but God wants us to live above our circumstances in His power. Or perhaps we are intentionally ignoring it. I was personally convicted about how I sometimes caught myself talking to my husband. True- life is much harder here, true- we have made lots of sacrifices, true- by the end of my busy day sometimes it is hard to still be nice; not true- it’s okay to be short with him because of all those reasons, definitely not true- I want to get used to it so it doesn’t bother me anymore. What I really want is each time a comment comes to mind that is less than loving (preferably before it comes out of my mouth) I want to think- dirt- yuck! and clean it up immediately. I could also go on about how much easier it is to clean up little messes along the way than to wait until your whole house is trashed and you have to clean for 3 days. Personally, I have prayed that I will never get used to my own dirt. Putting it in these physical terms is easy for me to remember- do you want to join me on this quest? Remember, God likes cleans “houses” even more than some of us women do; in fact He requires them no matter where we live.

Completely unrelated- but fun! Look what we got to enjoy right out of our apartment window! It was the best fireworks display we had ever seen and it was even better because the kids slept right through it and Matt and I enjoyed them right out our bedroom window. To tell you the truth we tried waking the older kids up (the show was at about 10:45 pm) but they took one look and went back to sleep- they were so tired! It wasn't 4th of July- but isn't God good to give us a grand firework show on the 21st of June.

Father's Day in France

2008-06-19T11:58:00Z

From Matt:

Celebrating Father’s Day in France was an experience to remember. For those who know me well, I am prone to creating adventures that are challenging but sometimes unrealistic. This year was no different. Since we haven’t had a car all year, we have had to rely on public transportation to visit various parts of Paris. Our little town of Massy is located between Paris and Versailles, so by train it takes us about 30 minutes to arrive in Versailles and another 15 minutes to walk to the gates of the grand château. Another missionary family had offered to loan us their mountain bikes if we ever wanted to take a leisurely stroll and go exploring sometime. So I used my Father’s Day privilege to get a free pass to determine what we were going to do that weekend. On Saturday morning, I wanted to storm the castle.

So on Saturday morning, we packed up a picnic lunch, loaded up the diaper bags and stroller and mounted the three bikes on the way to the bus station. Now for those who haven’t traveled to Paris before, it is probably the most unfriendly place for people with disabilities or families with strollers. Imagine trying to hoof a fully-loaded double stroller up and down flights of stairs, and then finagle it through a ticket turnstile whilst keeping your eyes on the rest of the kids who also are trying to validate their tickets amidst a moving crowd. Now, try to add three heavy mountain bikes to the picture and you can imagine the kind of experience we were dealing with.

The amusement began as we maneuvered all of our stuff to the edge of train platform. Thankfully, we had about 15 minutes to prepare ourselves before the next train. It looked as if we were about to start the Tour de France, we pointed all of the bike tires in the same direction and waited for the train to stop. It pulled up and we knew we had about 30 seconds to board. Watching our family clamber onto the train in a frenzy of activity I am sure would have made even the smuggest Frenchman smile.

When we arrived at the Versailles station, we had to go through the same exercise in reverse to exit the train, and then take several trips to move our pile of personal items and bikes up two flights of stairs towards the sortie exit booths. The walk towards the château is normally not difficult, except that on the way, the back right wheel on our stroller cracked on the cobblestone sidewalk and now Niki was faced with pushing the picnic items and baby stuff the rest of the day with a permanent flat tire. We (or I should say I) was determined to not let this deter us from our mission.

Our three year old, Shane, was sitting on the child’s seat behind my bike and I armed him with a squirt gun to occupy his time and help keep the older siblings moving in a forward direction. Once we finally got through the gates of the park grounds, things started to brighten up. We were tired, hungry, thirsty and a little frustrated with all of the hassles we had to overcome in order to get this far.

On the castle grounds, there are open meadows with horses, sheep and plenty of places for picnics. We picked our spot and let the kids run and enjoy the sunshine. We took some great pictures and rested for a while before continuing on our stroll through the enormous park. The second dream idea I had for my perfect Father’s Day adventure was to rent a row boat and travel up and down the man-made canals behind the beautiful gardens that connect the Palace to Marie Antoinette’s château. We were able to spend an hour on the water and take turns using the oars. We didn’t paddle too far, but the kids had a good time and we arrived back home in one piece. Even though my ideal picture never came true, the process of dealing with the frustrations and overcoming all of the obstacles gave me a sense of accomplishment. Overall, it was a beautiful day. Somehow, given our nature, I don’t think next year in Senegal will be too different.

Je ne sais pas...

2008-06-05T13:45:00Z

From Nicole:
Okay, this particular blog entry has been this whole year in the making, and I am not sure I have got my head around it yet, but wanted to share it with you anyway. Those of you who know me well, know that I like to be pretty on top of things. Living in suburban Saratoga County in NY, I was one of the moms of the ballet class that people would call to make sure they had everything they needed for the recital. I took it as a personal responsibility to know what was going on- especially with my kids! I am sure you know the type, if in fact you are not one of us yourself, we are the home-room moms in class, we help out with PTA, our kids come to AWANA prepared with what they need that night and their verses learned, our husband's travel schedule and what he will need for each trip is committed to memory, if there is an event that we are hosting, we know far in advance what we will be serving, we pride ourselves on knowing how those around us take their coffee without having to ask, and a huge insult to us is if a new friend's birthday comes along and we didn't know it ahead of time! Seriously, that was me! I didn't think about it a whole lot in my former NY life, it is just how I was, how I mothered and how I was as a wife and friend. In fact I wouldn't think about it much now except that it is 180 degrees different from who I am now! There are a lot of reasons- one glaring reason is the language difference! But also the demands on my time are so different now- being in school all the time, actually having tests and homework again, getting around without a vehicle with 4 kids usually headed in different directions, etc. etc.

In fact in our first months here in France my mom and sister would just sit silent on the phone after I had answered their question with an "I don't know" - finally my sister told me she just isn't used to hearing me say that, especially over everyday things. It has gotten a little better but even questions like: do the kids have school on Saturday? ( a normal thing in France but not every Saturday) or does Jake have a soccer game on Wednesday? does Shane have a favorite song he sings in school? is tomorrow a national holiday or not? even is the repair man coming or not? or can I make a deposit at the bank today? These all seem like simple enough questions- any good mom would know the answer yet even after "talking" to people in this new language of mine (teachers, coaches and the like) my answer would be "Je ne sais pas!" or I don't know.

You can imagine the distress this puts on a woman like me- to have to say- I just don't know and really my prospects of actually knowing are very slim. This was really nailed home the other day when my 3 year old came home from school dressed as a "petit poussin" or a little chick. Not only had he created the costume but the whole school had costumes on, each pre-school class a different baby animal and they had done a parade where they got to throw confetti all around and march over to the elementary school where Jake and Clarisa attend! All without my knowing! I don't have to write to tell you that there were tears that day- I had missed it because I didn't know! I am sure it was in the reams of paper we get home from school which just look to me like pages and pages of work since I have to translate it all, but I had missed it (please pray with me that Shane is not scarred from this- but seriously isn't he the cutest petit poussin you have ever seen!)

Shortly after that episode and before I had recovered, I was listening to Beth Moore's series on Romans. Now remember I had been (and actually still am) reflecting on the concept of knowing or in my case more frequently lately- not knowing. The lesson that day started with "wouldn't it be great if we just knew that..." of course cynically I am thinking, yes I would be happy to chalk anything up to knowing right now! But as she taught through Romans 8 her point was: what if we really lived like we knew that 1. my redeemer lives 2. I know whom I have believed in and am persuaded that He is able and 3. God causes all things to work together for good.

God brought me comfort that day in the fact that there are a lot of things in this new life that I do not know- (I don't know if I will ever get used to that fact, I will let you know) BUT and this is a huge BUT- I know the important things- among others-

I KNOW my Redeemer lives-
I KNOW who I believe in- and a sincere AMEN to the fact that
I KNOW God causes all things to work together for good- maybe not today or this week but I KNOW by faith that if He said He will do- then He will do it. I KNOW this.

So the journey continues. I am rejoicing in the fact that there a few things now that I do know, but at the same time I am trying to give the hords of things I don't know to God and rest in the facts about God and His character that I do know.

remember... don't drop the ball!

2008-05-31T09:59:00Z

From Matt

The other day, I prepared a team building exercise for one of my French language assignments called an exposé. We can choose any topic for our exposé, but we need to talk for 10-15 minutes in French without relying on notes and we are graded on how well we involve the class. The night before, I decided to do a practice run with the family to work out any bugs. The basic idea of the exercise was for the group to move a ping-pong ball suspended on the end of a small pipe from one place to another by only using the strings which are attached to the pipe. (It’s hard to explain without a photo, so we included a shot to help you visualize it). I had done this same exercise many times before in my training days with DELTA, but trying to facilitate a group activity in another language posed quite a challenge. So I thought that organizing a mock exercise with the family would really prepare me for anticipating and responding to spontaneous comments and offering explanations that would need to be translated.

Our two older children, Jacob (10) and Clarisa (9), Nicole and I were in the living room of our apartment. I explained the goals of the exercise, as well as the rules and expectations. One of which is that there is a limit to the amount of times a team can drop the ball before they have essentially “failed”. In the game, the ball is a symbol of our mission. Though there are many tasks to accomplish along the way, only by working together and keeping our eyes on the goal, can we complete God’s purpose and will for our lives. The last thing that I stressed to the kids was, “Now, remember, don’t drop the ball!”

Before we even got the ball off the ground, Clarisa had tied her strings together in a knot and was fumbling around doing her own thing. Instead of listening to the rules, she had embarked on a creative project of her own design. I scolded her for not listening and our competitive son, Jacob, chimed in and sure enough one family member had resigned in tears. We took a few minutes to regroup, Nicole helped to referee the rival siblings and calm their goal-oriented father. On the second attempt, we actually lifted the strings in unison and maintained balance for a moment until it tumbled again onto the floor. Before our third attempt, we designated Jacob to be the leader and asked him to come up with a strategy to help us work better together. We started over again, this time following the leader’s directions, listening to one another, and implementing a common strategy. We moved the ball to the other side of the room and placed it down on our dining room table – so we actually achieved our goal!

We discussed a few of the insights we gleaned from this group activity and discovered a few things about our family: (1) we need to communicate and listen to one another, (2) we need to control our competitive goal-oriented personalities and to be careful with our words when family members drop the ball, (3) we need to have a plan and stick to it and (4) every family member plays an important part but we need to stay focused until we’ve completed the task at hand. In the end, the family learned how to better work as a team. Even though we had a bumpy start, we finished well.

It was amazing to see how in just a few minutes, through a simple team building activity; some of our common weaknesses and sources of tension were exposed. I had facilitated this same exercise for mission groups all over the United States, but never had seen it play out in my own living room. God used the exposé assignment to expose some areas of growth for our family to help us know how to complete His greater assignment here in Paris and beyond.

another answered prayer

2008-05-21T18:58:00Z

Welcome to our newly reinstated blog! We are truly hoping to use this as a vehicle to chronicle the journey that God has set our family on and that you have become a part of through your support and prayers. Please check back frequently or add our blog to your RSS streams to be notified when there is new material posted. And please leave your comments as well as ways we can be praying for you, there is little more encouraging to us than hearing from you!

from Nicole:

Today's post has to do with a huge answer to prayer for me! Most of you know that we have decided after seeking much counsel that we will stay in language school for another semester until December 08. There were a lot of things that went into that decision but one of the major question marks had to do with my 10 year old (yes, my baby, Jake is double digits now, hard to believe...). I will try to skimp on all the details but when we came to France they actually put Jake ahead a year in school because of his age (his birthday is Dec. 30); which was fine for this year because he was still in the elementary school and mostly working on what is now his amazing French. For next year though it would mean changing to the middle school for 4 months before going to Senegal. Matt and I were very against that for a number of reasons- one being he just isn't ready for middle school and the challenges that come when hanging around 15 year olds and another that we really didn't want him to have to adjust to a whole new setting for just 4 months. I tried explaining to everyone involved (in my limited French) that by next January, in the span of 2 years, he will have been in 3 different schools on 3 different continents and I felt very strongly that another one was not necessary! I have been pursuing this angle with all the school officials that I could since February but what seemed like a simple answer to me kept being rejected. Finally, after a formal letter, we were scheduled for a meeting with the "inspectrice of schools for Massy" that would be the woman who is in charge of all the schools in our area- you can imagine how nervous I was! Our meeting was on Monday, May 19th. Thankfully, my friend Karen who speaks fluent French, came along with me and we were able to have a time of prayer together before going in to the meeting. I really didn't have many options for Jake- Matt and I were convinced he would not be attending the middle school (called college here) but if the inspectrice denied our request we weren't sure what we would do for his schooling next year.

All that to say, God answered my heartfelt prayer and cleared the way for my son to remain in the safe and known environment that he is in now for the four months next fall before we go to Senegal. All of this has led me to a very thankful place as I reflect on how God has held my children in His hand through this whole, huge transition of ours! Yes, there have definitely been stretching points and lots of things to worry- I mean pray about! But on the whole, they are doing great! The older kids have obtained wonderful French! My French neighbor even told me that Clarisa speaks without an accent! Jake too can communicate freely and has lots of French buddies with which to hang out at school with and play "football" with. Even the Shane and Ade are doing much better than I had imagined with this total change of lifestyle. Even more important, our family has really come together in so many ways (and not just because we live in a very small European apartment!) If you remember, my main prayer request before leaving for France was that God would hold on tight to my precious kids. Not just has He answered this prayer request about Jake but He has answered all of you too who have faithfully prayed for my kids. I feel I owe you a huge debt for being faithful to bring my children before the throne- thank you. On that note- please don't stop!