Backlog - Friday, June 10, 2011

I bet you're getting used to my routine in the morning, and so unless it changes it's: awake, Bible reading, singing, prayer, and then breakfast.


After breakfast, I waited for Hari to take Penka to the art studio as she wouldn’t be coming with us or be free until the evening. I fell asleep sitting on the couch for about 20 minutes after memorizing some Scripture verses my brother and Dean Hill sent me for encouragement. I later shared them with Hari as we drove to pick up Tolga, Mustafa’s wife, and her mother to take to the other village which is unreached. Hari had never been to this village and says that going with a friend of someone who lives there or who has a relationship is the best way to enter the Turkish community without being viewed as a foreign element (with distrust and skepticism). By going with friends (they hadn’t seen each other in over a year), we were immediately considered as friends also. Before we got them, however, we had to go back and pick up Hari’s camera and his watercolor kit, and I brought along several packs of chewing gum that I had brought from the U.S., the only gift I had to offer on hand as I left some of the other things at the BL office. Go figure that Hari would tell me that chewing gum is a “great Turkish gift.” By the end of the day we were joking about chewing gum evangelism. “The children of the world are [usually] shrewder,” but not today. Anyway, we picked the women up at their house and drove to their friends’ village. It was a long drive, but very scenic and winding. I have pictures and video for upload at a later time. When we arrived at the house, the family came to see us and one younger girl, who was the daughter of the believer sister (the only believer in the village – Hari is amazed that she hasn’t fallen away – whom I will our sister from here on out), runs over and immediately starts crying profusely and hugging the women. To say she was overjoyed to see them in an understatement. We were introduced after a little bit and they invited us all in to the upstairs room (our sister’s bedroom). They sat us down and served us coffee and drinks and chocolates. We spoke a bit, but here comes the interesting cultural context point: we waited. Hari said that sometimes you will be invited in and served such and then the family members will leave for 30 minutes to an hour, just doing other things before returning. But, you learn to wait and say nothing, for this is how things are done. It is, as Dr. Richard Lewis (missiologist) would say, a rule by which you play the game of life among this people to be relationally engaged and have friendships. We sipped our coffee and the brother of our sister came in and we got to know him a bit. Hari has been extremely hospitable to me and a good mentor in helping me engage in the situations alongside him. He provides opportunities for me to speak in and ask questions through him of other people. He let’s the Spirit work and doesn’t try to overrun the situation. He asked me if I wanted to ask the young man anything (his name was pronounced fEEk-writ). I found out he was a shepherd and the kinds of animals he shepherded. I asked him if he had any principles or wisdom to share with me about shepherding and about animals and people and the similarities of working with each. He is 22 and shared about the instructing of animals and their coming and not coming when you call them. They shared with us that the region is becoming famous for a special eagle that hunts and nests on the mountain tops (they live near the top). Hari was glad he brought his camera, and used this as an opportunity to let the women have time alone in reunion. He explained the strategic and sympathetic nature of the situation, and that we leave the house to go find these eagles and take pictures with the young man so that we can share the Gospel with him while also allowing the women to reestablish their friendships and love for each other. As the young man directed us up the mountain, I prayed and took some pictures. Hari would translate something every so often. We saw some of the eagles, but they were too distant for nice photos, but we did end up finding great feathers. I have a couple in great shape that I plan to bring home (if it can get through C – I’ll spray it down with something). As we were coming down the mountain, Hari asked me if I wanted to share anything, and I remarked about how our God says that if we trust in Him, we too can be made like eagles in the fact of their strength and graceful endless endurance. And, when I heard about the mountains treacherous wolves and snakes that are the enemies of his flocks, I asked Hari to share with him about these spiritual realities, the there are both wolves and snakes that are dangers to men, for God likens us unto a flock of His own if we hear His voice. Hari then shared the full Gospel with him as we came down the mountain and asked him if he believed? He had asked him if he was sure of his salvation in the Islamic tradition and that is always a powerful question for Muslims because they answer “no.” Hari told him, “I am sure.” This touched the young man’s heart in that he was very open then. In the house Hari and I noticed he seemed a little defensive, probably wondering what our reason for being there was. But, as we came back, the young man was answering questions that probe one’s soul. Upon walking back up to the house, Hari noticed some markings on its front-faces. He asked the young man if he knew what they represented. The young man didn’t, but Hari said that he knew and would share the understanding with him. The images were leaves on four corners and in the center of the primary wall was a dove. Hari told me later he thinks a Bulgarian may have lived in the house prior to this family, though he’s unsure. He explained the Christian theology behind these pictures, the dove of the Spirit and peace (we always hope to find a House of Peace in a new village as the disciples were directed on their journey). After we entered the house, we found that the women had prepared a meal for us (Hari, our sisters, and me). They pulled out the Turkish table and gave me a little instruction on eating together. When it comes to eating and drinking things, Hari has been good to make sure I’m not going to die from anything. And, I pray that God helps me have wisdom in making good choices that don’t cause offense and don’t cause me undo stomach issues. But, I also pray in accordance with Mark 16 that “poison” won’t hurt me as I obey the command to proclaim the Gospel abroad. That’s tongue-in-cheek Christian humor, but it’s also true. They did use some spices that Hari later told me can cause throat/esophagus irritation – an understanding I gained today as well as knowing why he didn’t eat it. They offered me the yogurt drink, but I stuck with some kind of soda drink, as we had some spiced noodles in yogurt with the meal, and the yogurt is a little sour. However, knowing it’s supposed to be yogurt helps me enjoy it much more than thinking it’s not supposed to be and wondering why I have curds in my glass. After the meal, Hari said there would be a chance for me to share something. After a little bit, I shared a testimony of a time when God humbled me greatly so that I could receive mercy and grace and be made useful for His prepared work. From that I led into having Hari read about the promise for those dependant on God from Psalm 23. And, after that, I asked him to teach from John 10. It should be obvious that the Spirit led these selections as well as the general wisdom of the Spirit-filled believer who knows the Bible. These selections speak to their daily lives. They know shepherding. That’s why Jesus spoke to the people with such words Himself, because they could understand these figures better. And, these people did too. They were touched and Hari gave out Bible literature to all of them. Our sister there then shared a dream she had about her daughter. It was a powerful dream about her resurrection and depicted baptism clearly. As the talking went on, Hari encouraged Tolga’s friend who repented and is committed to Jesus to be baptized and she said she wants to. The girls need Christian husbands, which as you might imagine is, at the moment, an impossible thing in these nonChristian, Muslim-dominated villages. But all things are possible with God, and so we pray that this young man is raised up as a believer who will lead other men to Jesus with Hari’s help. That’s my prayer. After this discussion, Hari kept talking while I just sat back and prayed and watched. Then we all prayed as a group, Hari praying for all of us – for the girls, for the young man and a wife, for work for the people, for one lady’s health, for the growth of the believers etc…, and then I was asked if I had anything more to share. I prayed and then we started to leave. As we were leaving the room, Hari spoke with the grandmother of the house about the Gospel again. She has expressly not wanted prayer for herself. He shared the Gospel a bit more vigorously and prayed for her anyway. She was moved by the situation and expressed how she couldn’t understand this new peace that all of a sudden was overwhelming her. Hari just started to leave, I said goodbye and gave the woman a hug and she started to cry. This grandmother was not like the girl who had cried earlier. She was fairly reserved during our entire stay. I think she was hesitant to accept anything strange, and was probably superstitious and so frightened by this teaching we brought that has real power. Anyway, I’m in the situation and cannot understand anything because only Hari could translate for me, so I’m hearing lots of talking but just smile. That’s one thing I’m unashamed of: showing love through touch and posture. When I cannot communicate verbally, I can at least be like a little child and do it physically. At that point we left the house and Hari explained the pictures on the house to the rest of the family. They hugged and said their goodbyes and we left. On the way back, we stopped on the side of a mountain, because Hari wanted to help me get some precious stones. He knew some would be in this area that we had seen on the way there. As we stopped, there just happened to be another bus of people, Americans, looking at some of the rocks also. They didn’t know what they were looking at even though one of them had a PhD in geology. Hari gave one of the women in their group a nice rock with some Opal in it. Then, as they came by I asked where they were from and they said various states. I mentioned some information about myself and they were surprised and wondered if I was studying geology, but Hari said, “Not geology, theology.” At that point, they wondered if I was Eastern Orthodox or a Muslim. Hah. When I said evangelical Christian, it was as if they went blind. I’m not kidding. It was as if their friendly demeanor’s disappeared and they had to be going. I saw the back of a woman’s shirt with “Karma” labeling. The lostness of them struck me and I shared with Hari how I knew in my spirit that in their quest to be “world-traveled” they were just wordly. Even so, during the conversation, Hari mentioned twice at other points important truths: that God created all these rocks, and that the most valuable of them is The Rock, the Lord Himself. Then we took our sisters back to their village and they invited me for coffee. Hari didn’t seem like he was too inclined to stay, but I said “yes” without hesitation. It almost stunned me how fast the word came out of my mouth. Anyway, a teenage girl and her little brother were looking at us, and Hari called them over while we waited and grabbed a storybook about Jesus (Isa), to have her read. Then, a group of people came up the street. Hari started talking with them and I gave him the rest of a pack of gum I had and he distributed it among them while they spoke. He heard about their troubles and shared the Gospel with all of them. He heard this older lady had great pain in her back and he prayed for her on the street. She said she had prayed to God, but he told her that only Jesus can forgive sins and has the power to ultimately heal you physically and spiritually for your good. He told her that if she wanted His healing that she had to pray to Him and no other god. She was willing and they were all receptive and invited him to come over some time (this is that village where our sisters were slandered). Then we went inside and spoke with Mustafa’s wife about this and she was amazed about their receptivity. We spoke with Tolga a little and she wanted to come to church on Sunday for communion and so Hari agreed that we would come pick her up Sunday morning.  As we were walking out of the house, we spent a little extra time talking with Mustafa's wife's mother.  Hari impressed upon her more thoroughly the importance of the Gospel and prayer to God in Jesus' name.  He prayed for her and her eyesight improved and she was moved emotionally.  She also spoke more clearly afterward, which was great because she had much difficulty speaking at all.  She often just makes facial gestures.  Hari charged Tolga with gathering the women to pray each night for the grandmother.  This is part of Hari's plan to help Tolga mature as a Christian leader in her village.  She is very bright, the first in her village to be graduating middle school in a week or so.  Then we left for good for the evening. But, as we were driving away, we saw a few men walking in the direction we were headed, and so we asked them if they wanted a ride, and two of the three – one with a boy too – said they would. Hari spoke with them about our visiting our sisters. One man asked if Hari was Jesus Christ. He said, no, but we preach Christ. They wanted prayer because of sicknesses and other things, and so they invited Hari to come visit them in their houses. In these Turkish villages, the people are Muslim, and the Eastern Orthodox church is state-directed and they limit the ability of people to organize and start churches. But, no one can stop you from worshiping in your own home, and so this is the strategy they take. Thus, home invitations are vital. Thus, by the end of the day, in a village that was formerly maligning our sisters and our Lord, there were now three homes of people desiring visits to have prayer and hear about the Jesus to whom we pray. Upon arriving back at the apartments, we rested on the balcony and ate cherries while listening to a Turkish gypsy wedding going on down the street. We then had dinner and dessert (wow!) and Hari and Penka’s son visited. He’s a web and graphic designer (animator by education). We spoke about his business and I offered to give any consulting that would be useful. We spoke for quite a bit about ideas and strategies that might help him. It seemed good. I also found out that Hari had received a computer virus while in Switzerland the previous week while at a church-planter training conference (T4T) and it was spanning his network of Christian friends with character-harming e-mails. It’s nearly solved now (I’m writing and posting on Saturday evening). After showering I went to bed.