tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50904110758003049442024-02-06T23:31:29.964-08:00Tales of Being All ThereHeidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comBlogger143125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-38547017461866612422023-10-14T04:44:00.003-07:002023-10-14T04:44:54.895-07:00Where ten years has taken usMy husband and I recently celebrated ten years of marriage. It's been a busy decade - we've lived in four different places spread out across two countries and added three children to our family. When we married, we both had a desire to serve long term abroad. My husband had already gone to Bible college and was working as an assistant pastor ahead of overseas ministry. If you'd told us then, as we dreamed of the future in the little yellow kitchen of our first house, that we would go and we would come back after five years and end up 30 miles away from where we started, I'm not sure we'd have believed you.<br /><br />And yet here we are.<br /><br />Seven and a half years ago, my husband and I sold that house, packed up our lives into a few suitcases and took our ten month old son to a country on the edge of Central Asia. We planned to stay a long time - we thought fifteen years would be a good stretch before our children's educational needs would probably require a move back to the UK. We were committed to serving and supporting the young church in that country. We, who were never large city people, went first to a very large city for language and culture learning. After a couple of years, we moved to a city of 'only' a million people and where creative access was needed to get visas. And then after a while the rules changed and our creative access route didn't work any more. Our local pastor in that city asked us to move back to the UK and come and visit as much as we could, which avoided all visa requirements. So (cutting a long story short) we did. We only spent five years in that country that we planned to spend so much longer in.<br /><br />From the biographies I devoured as a child and teenager, I absorbed an idea that the longer you went to the 'field' for, the better a cross-cultural worker you were. The ideal was to go without a return ticket but with your coffin, although a few decades was long enough to be respectable. There was Adoniram Judson's letter to John Hasseltine asking not only permission to marry his daughter Ann, but that John would agree to "see her no more in this world". There was James Calvert's (unverified, as far as I can find) quote, said in reply to the ship's captain who told him he would lose his life by landing on the islands of Fiji, "we died before we came here." There are stirring calls not to be half-hearted, not to waste our lives, not to invest in what won't last. If that seems too nineteenth century, I've met people who tell me that they plan to live the rest of their lives in the country they have gone to, with visits back to their passport country every now and then.<br /><br />Cross-cultural workers throughout history, from the Apostle Paul to Hudson Taylor to Amy Carmichael to current workers, have left behind a lot and willingly embraced a whole heap of hard things for the sake of the Gospel. Many have died or been martyred for the Gospel. Others have sacrificed their health (physical, mental and/or emotional), comforts, freedoms and opportunities. Their families have sacrificed too. We rightly honour the work that God has done through them and in them and praise God for them. <br /><br />But when your standard is Jim Elliot and Gladys Aylward, what do you do with the cross-cultural workers who, for a whole host of different reasons, return to their passport country after just a few years? If the unspoken but pervading church culture around us prizes faithfulness through long years of service (perhaps with little fruit), what do those whose years of service were cut short for one reason or another think? When we've made our historical heroes ten feet tall, no average height human will ever compare. I wonder what my nineteen-year-old self, who had the words of the hymn 'Facing a Task Unfinished' pinned up above her desk, would make of me now. <br /><br />Perhaps there's a bigger issue here - that while we might outwardly reject a sacred/secular divide, we admire the exciting and exotic more than we do the boring and mundane. Even living abroad, it's certainly easier to mention earthquakes, terrorist attacks and coup attempts in prayer letters than bureaucracy and getting your boiler replaced when you don't understand how the system works. Maybe it's more glamorous to love your neighbour when they're an unreached people worshipping idols than to love your neighbour when they're your child or elderly parent needing your physical presence in your passport country.<br /><br />Maybe there are many more issues at play here. Issues of God's leading and guidance, of Christian heroes and sometimes idols, of not despising small things, of pride and shame. <br /><br />But here's what I know. Jesus said, 'Go and make disciples of all nations'. He didn't say that you have to go abroad to make disciples of all nations. He did not say that if you go to serve cross-culturally, you must go for a minimum of ten years and the longer you go for, the better. He didn't say that you have to pick a country and go spend the rest of your life there.<br /><br />Here's something else that I know. In all things, God works for the good of those who love him. The last ten years have incorporated a lot of uncertainty and change. Our life plan was completely turned upside down when we came back to the UK. But the Lord knew that would happen, and before we had even moved to our second city abroad, when we were still planning to be there many years, he was setting in motion the events that would bring us to our current church and town. When we came back, we had absolutely no idea why God had worked things out that way but believed that God is good and in control. Two and a bit years later, we now know that a health condition of one of our children would almost certainly have required us to relocate back to the UK had we still been abroad. <br /><br />We would never have predicted that we'd be in this town, in this country, ten years after getting married. But we can say with confidence that the Lord is good. He does not make mistakes or waste experiences. His ways are not our ways - thankfully. We can say with faith and with gratitude that the boundary lines have fallen for us in pleasant places.<br />Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-16749648621292764492023-04-24T03:38:00.001-07:002023-04-24T03:38:26.148-07:00Growing plants and meeting people<p> Last July, I turned up at a community gardening volunteer session with my three children in tow. I'd been told about the sessions by a Muslim friend. The local council has a small site filled to the brim with a couple of polytunnels and raised beds and containers as well as a little market garden down the road. They invite members of the public to volunteer, helping to grow fruit and vegetables, and donate the produce to a local foodbank. I was intrigued as I'd long wanted to get involved in food growing. Not only that, but the site was close to our church. I wondered if this would give me a chance to get to know non-Christians and offer opportunities to share the Gospel.<br /><br />Fast forward nearly a year, and we are still turning up one morning a week. I help with a variety of tasks such as planting out seedlings, weeding, re-creating 'no dig' beds and harvesting, depending on the time of year. We home educate our three boys (aged 7, 5 and 3) so they come along with me and get as involved as they want to - sometimes they are eager to get involved with tasks (trundling empty wheelbarrows back to compost bins and soil sieving are favourites) and other times they prefer to play by themselves. Looking back at the last year, the community gardening has been one of the most worthwhile activities that we've got involved in. <br /><br />It is helpful in several different ways for us to get our hands in the earth and to work hard together at something physical. We are formed from the dust of the ground and it does us good to get out into the fresh air and remember that our daily bread is literally coming from crops growing up out of the muddy ground. We've learned about patience waiting for seeds to sprout. We definitely learned something about resilience when we planted out onions in the pouring rain. Watching kale continue to grow through the frosty winter, scrabbling around in the earth harvesting potatoes and marvelling at the most enormous parsnip showed us God's goodness and led us to worship. Isn't it amazing that the tiny seeds we plant grow up into large plants that we can harvest and eat? Watching plants grow still feels a little bit magic to me. Then, depending on the plant, we might be harvesting the root, the tuber, the stem, the fruit, the flower or the leaves! In amongst the goodness, there have been other truths to see in the garden too. When the entire pumpkin patch fell victim to an early frost, when the slugs gorged themselves on the lettuces, when the carrots were suffocated by weeds we tasted the bitterness of fallen creation.<br /><br />More importantly, it has been a fantastic way to get to know local people who, I think it is fair to say, are very unlikely to have just turned up at church or come along to a church event. The number of volunteers at each session varies and there is often significant turnover but gradually I've been able to get to know some of the people who, like us, turn up most weeks. One recent history graduate shared her story of growing up Hindu and then embracing Zen Buddhism with me over a vegetable bed. As we talked about how we practised our different faiths, I was able to share with her about Christmas and why it matters for Christians. Chatting while working together on a job gives surprising opportunities for listening to people and learning about them, as well as sharing appropriately ourselves. My other realisation has been just how many people are lonely and need to work. The natural demographic for a weekday volunteering session is those out of regular paid work - whether those looking for work, unable to work, retired or not in paid work for some other reason. We know that we were made to work and some people seem to have come along for something to do and someone to do it with. Jesus' ministry focused on the poor and needy and it is great to be able to get to know some of these people in a context where we are working with dignity alongside each other as equals to help others. An older gentleman who came along for a while gave my boys a telescope. He told me that he had been saving the telescope to pass down to his own children and he had realised he had passed the age of having children. He told me that my children were the only children he knew and so he wanted to gift the telescope to them. <br /><br />This is not to say it's been easy. I urgently called my boys out of the way when an argument between two volunteers looked like it was going to come to blows. While my children are usually the only children there, one of the volunteers occasionally brings her similarly aged son in the school holidays. She has a female partner and I wonder when and how I tell my children that their new friend is probably going to talk about his two mums at some point. One gentleman who comes has occasionally been slightly (and understandably) frustrated at the children sometimes getting in the way. The man who gave us the telescope also shared conspiracy theories with my seven year old. Sometimes the boys are bored and want to go home and sometimes I want to go home as well. And then I think what a privilege it is that we get to meet people from all walks of life and we see God's common grace and the brokenness of sin in each and every person.<br /><br />When we moved to our town, I desperately wanted to put roots down in the local community, to teach my children about how to plant seeds and trust God to send rain on the righteous and the unrighteous, and to get to know non-Christians. Volunteering in our community garden is enabling me to do exactly that.</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-25120293637072884792022-07-01T08:58:00.000-07:002022-07-01T08:58:11.524-07:00Ministry starting at minus five<p>“Imagine that you want to share the good news about Jesus with someone. Most people start at zero. They might have heard about Jesus a few times in school assemblies or religious studies lessons, a smattering of knowledge picked up by living in a country that sometimes still thinks of itself as Christian. But they’ve probably never really looked at the claims of Christ properly or read the Bible for themselves. When you meet a Muslim, typically they’re not at zero. They’re at about minus five already. Most Muslims already believe that Jesus never claimed to be God and that the Bible has been changed. You’re starting in a completely different place.”<br /><br />This is the story that we used to tell about ministry amongst Muslims. The part about Muslims is still true. But after Whatsapp group drama ealier this week, the truth has finally sunk in. Many white British people are now in negative territory when it comes to Christians and the Gospel.<br /><br />In one of the quirks of home educating (homeschooling) in the UK, we end up mixing with a lot of liberal families – mostly atheist or non-religious, with a few Christians, pagans and Buddhists thrown in. When somebody shared that they were going to see the film Lightyear, someone else was quick to poke fun at the Christians who were avoiding the film (for reference, the film features a same-sex family in an <a href="https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/lightyear-top-gun-maverick/">“intentional attempt to normalize LGBT+ relationships as just as wholesome and natural as the married couple in Up”</a>). Christians who disagreed with the film were quickly characterised as extremist, homophobic and bigoted. Quite a few messages, another Christian leaving the group, and at least one apology later, the result was clear. It wasn’t that people were entitled to different views. The consensus among those non-Christians who chimed in was that even though a small minority of extremist Christians disagree with the film, obviously most Christians are not homophobic and extremist (read: tolerate, accept and are absolutely fine with the normalisation of same sex families), so let’s not tar them all with the same brush. <br /><br />The bit that was the most telling was the implicit assumption that if you were a Christian who disagreed with the film, then of course you were bigoted. That part was not up for discussion. The assumption that followed was that while calling all Christians homophobic was to be avoided (because, of course, various people knew many LGBTQ-affirming Christians), if you did disagree with the film then not only were you bigoted, but there was absolutely no problem with labelling you as extremist and bigoted. People were not worried about offending Christians who didn’t want to take their children to see a film that was aiming to normalise same-sex relationships. The only offence to be taken was if you were lumped in the same category as those Christians.<br /><br />When one Christian mum did choose to leave the group, I considered leaving as well. I think that the Christian mum who left chose a valid option. And in all honesty, it would be easier to leave the group. It would be easier to just hang out with the Christian mums in the area. Ironically, it would be easier to hang out with my home educating friends who are Muslim – we at least have very similar family values and they are more outraged at the relationships education in schools than I am. <br /><br />In many places and for many years, outreach amongst Muslims was considered uncomfortable. They were just so different. And it was hard to even get to a position where you could meaningfully share the Gospel because of all the assumptions that were already in place.<br /><br />I feel like outreach into the (mostly white) non-religious, post-Christian groups is now similarly uncomfortable. Just in the last couple of weeks people I know have openly labelled those of us who might identify as conservative evangelicals as extremists and religious zealots. Whereas once our worldviews touched and maybe overlapped, now they feel so far apart that I wonder how they can come close enough that I could even shout the good news across the gaping chasm to them. <br /><br />But the reassuring news is this: this is not new and God is still at work. The early Christians were just as far apart from the majority Roman view. The Gospel upsets the social order of the day, whether in second century Rome or in twenty first century Britain. And as we know from work with Muslims, it is hard and slow and laborious and it may feel like the starting point is well below zero on the scale, but it bears some fruit. The same is true of the non-Christians who seem so far from accepting the Gospel. No matter how many negative assumptions of Christians they start with, God is mighty to save my Muslim friends and my non-religious friends.</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-58482016972850384982022-01-03T11:37:00.003-08:002022-01-03T11:37:42.934-08:00I quit reading the Bible in a year<p>It's the time of year when the Christian internet is awash with Bible reading plans for 2022 and especially the type of reading plan where you read through the Bible in one year. </p><p>So here's my confession: I gave up on my read-the-Bible-in-a-year plan last year. It was the Murray M'Cheyne plan that works through the Old Testament once and the New Testament and Psalms twice in a year. I made it to the end of November and was basically on track, minus a few chapters in Acts. I only had one month to go and I would have been able to complete it within the year. <br /></p><p>Let's be totally clear here: Bible reading plans are great and reading through the Bible in a year is a fantastic way to structure spending time in Scripture. It puts into action the principle that all of the Bible is God-breathed (even the minor prophets) and gives a breadth to reading and familiarity with the whole Word of God. Reading the Bible in this way has helped me to spot connections between books and passages that I wouldn't have otherwise seen. <br /></p><p>But completing the assigned reading for the day was becoming more important to me than meeting with the Lord through his Word. When my time was limited, I would prioritise getting all of the reading done and ticking the box than reading less and making time to pray as well. And then the pride started to creep in. I must be doing well - I was going to complete this ambitious reading plan in what had been a crazy year and with three small children at home. These are dangers that Robert Murray M'Cheyne identified and they are real dangers. M'Cheyne thought that the advantages of reading the Bible in a year outweighed the disadvantages. I realised that for me, the disadvantages were outweighing the advantages. (This says more about me than it does about M'Cheyne.) So I stopped my plan and curled up in a Gospel instead.</p><p>If you follow Christ, you'll want to spend time reading the Bible. It's
literally God's Word! It's our daily bread, it's the story of God's
redemption plan, it's how we grow in our knowledge of and love for
Christ. It is the authority for the Gospel we speak and the way we live
our lives. Please, read the Bible. Read it through in a year if you want to. And as an aside, if you're a mum of small children, don't listen to the lie that you have no time to read the Bible. I'm very grateful to a friend who, several years ago, first showed me it was even possible to read through the Bible in a year when the days are full of small people and the nights are broken too. </p><p>But know this: you are not a better Christian because you read the Bible in a year. Jesus does not love you more because you completed your Bible reading plan. He does not love you less because you failed to complete the Bible reading plan, or took longer than planned. Ticking a box every day does not guarantee that you are growing in your walk with God. Reading the Bible in a year doesn't bring some extra-spiritual level of insight. Your salvation was fully achieved through Jesus' death on the cross and no completion of a plan, no streak on your Bible reading app, no sense of achievement at making it all the way through to Malachi, can ever add anything to Jesus' finished work on the cross.<br /></p><p>A Bible reading plan is a great tool to read the Bible regularly and systematically. But it's only a tool. Don't make the mistake I did and confuse the tool with the end goal.</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-34916130616228182712021-11-16T09:03:00.000-08:002021-11-16T09:03:17.652-08:00Are you still praying for Afghanistan?<p>It was easy to remember to pray for Afghanistan when it was on every news headline. When there were <a href="https://www.defenseone.com/policy/2021/08/inside-reach-871-us-c-17-packed-640-people-trying-escape-taliban/184563/" target="_blank">pictures</a> of cargo planes crammed full of refugees, stories of those desperately trying to flee the country and a looming deadline, we prayed.</p><p>Afghanistan doesn't make the headlines every day now. The Taliban takeover is not breaking news. </p><p>The situation in Afghanistan is still heartbreaking though. Maybe even more so now, with news reports of <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/2021/11/01/asia/afghanistan-child-marriage-crisis-taliban-intl-hnk-dst/index.html">families selling their children to buy food</a>.<br /></p><p>Are we still praying?<br /></p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-48598885846635109302021-11-10T13:52:00.000-08:002021-11-10T13:52:23.284-08:00Wonder, not boredom<p>In our house, Wednesday is nature group day. At the start of September, I launched a nature group for home educated children, in conjunction with our church. Every week a group of us meet in a large park (large by British standards of maintained parks, at least) for a nature walk, story time and activities linked to a weekly theme. When the weather is particularly bad, we hurry down the road to the church hall into the dry. The vast majority of those who come would not describe themselves as having a personal faith in Jesus or regularly attend church so I hope it will be a low-pressure way to just get people comfortable stepping into the church.</p><p>We've wandered around the park eight times now. Occasionally we'll venture into some open access public land at the bottom of the park but our routes are familiar enough that the children who come regularly can usually predict where we'll go next. I try to mix it up some weeks and start off in a different direction but there are only so many paths in the park so sooner or later we end up on one of our usual paths. </p><p>After the first few weeks, I was worried that the children coming would get bored. Familiarity would breed contempt and they would just want to go somewhere new. But just a couple of months in and I see that the opposite is true. We might be treading the same paths in the same park but every week there's something new to see as we watch the seasons change in the park, from summer through autumn and now entering winter.</p><p>I'm more enthusiastic than knowledgeable about nature so every week sees me researching and learning about that week's subject. I hadn't really been particularly looking forward to last week's fungi topic and this week's mosses and lichen. But I read a bit about fungi and last week we peered into undergrowth and poked around decomposing logs and I was amazed at just how many varieties and the sheer quantity of fungi that we found. I'd just never really been looking for them before.<br /></p><p>This week we didn't need to hunt down at the ground because the moss and lichen was right in front of us on the trees - and even lichen growing on metal. We meandered through the park and I marvelled at all the moss and lichen that I'd never really noticed before. In fact, I had wondered beforehand if we'd even find a particular type of lichen, convinced that I hadn't seen it before in the park. There were so many trees covered with this type of lichen I couldn't help but laugh at myself. I'd just not been looking closely enough before.</p><p>As we walk many of the same paths each week, I'm starting to build up a mental map of the park. I know where we can find a whole collection of ferns and where the horse chestnut trees are and the pine trees. I checked today the small patch of ground where I was astonished to find the famous red-with-white-spots fly agaric fungi last week, to see if they were still there (they were). I know that if I'm lucky, I'll find frogs in the fountain at the right time of year and that the wildflowers bloom longer than I expected and the leaves change colour later. And it's only November. I wondered if the children (and adults) would get bored in the park and now I'm starting to see that there's so much to explore, so much that I don't even know that I don't know. I'm not asking if there's enough to keep a group of children interested now, I'm wondering how we'll ever fit in everything I want to cover. There's so much to wonder at.<br /></p><p>I hope my knowledge and experience of, and relationship with, God is like that park. After being a Christian for a number of years, it's easy to think that maybe the familiarity of the Christian life is just a bit boring. I've trodden the paths of listening to a sermon at church each week, reading the Bible, praying and taking communion for a while (although nowhere near as many years as others) and there's a risk that I might think that I've been here many times before and there's nothing new to see. </p><p>But I want to watch in awe as the passing seasons and years reveal the never-changing God from slightly different angles. I want to learn more about God by digging around in the undergrowth of the doctrines that I hold firmly to in order to find the things I'd never paid much attention to before. I want to learn more about God by lifting up my eyes and realising that there's so much in plain sight that I'd never thought to look for before. I want to see that same landscape in all the different weathers, to see that the core truths of the faith are just as solid and real in the foggy weather of doubt as they are in the blazing sunshine of God's clear and unmistakeable answers to prayer. I want to walk those means of grace again and again knowing that the paths may be the same but there is always more to understand, more to see, more to experience. More to wonder at, more to thank God for, more to turn into praise. </p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-69404582535716623252021-11-05T13:02:00.002-07:002021-11-05T13:02:56.054-07:00God moves in straightforward and mysterious ways<p>I spent many evenings sitting at our white IKEA dining table in our small flat in Istanbul completing my homework from that morning ready for my Turkish class the next day. I spent a lot of time listening to the audiobook of the Turkish translation of 'The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe' on half speed while following along with a physical copy, trying to get my brain accustomed to hearing and understanding Turkish and pausing to look up words I didn't understand. I did my Turkish vocabulary flashcards on my phone and sometimes I even did them in the middle of the night while feeding the baby (although other times I scrolled through social media). </p><p>As we invested hundreds and hundreds of hours in learning Turkish, we didn't know which city we'd move to. We knew that we wanted to be working alongside a local church but we didn't know what exactly that would look like. But we knew we needed to speak decent Turkish. I imagined sitting on a sofa with a Turkish friend, sipping sweet, black tea and eating cookies, talking about the Gospel while our children played together. Or being able to understand a Bible study and contribute meaningfully without having to mentally rehearse exactly what I'd say. Maybe, if my Turkish got good enough, I'd be able to share at a ladies' meeting or do baptism lessons with a new believer.</p><p>Sometimes God moves in straightforward ways. I got to do those things in the city we lived in. Thanks to God, my Turkish was good enough, although it never felt good enough. And many, many times the ladies were gracious enough to overlook my grammatical errors, foreign accent and sudden realisation that I couldn't remember the vocabulary for a critical word.</p><p>In that city I met someone who would become a good friend. We met up regularly in parks for our children to play together and so we could chat. While I lived there, she was the non-Christian that I had the most Gospel opportunities with. One time our conversation turned to salvation and how we earn the right to enter heaven. I explained that the Bible teaches that we cannot earn our ticket to heaven through good works but salvation is only through trusting Jesus and his death on the cross. That both a murderer and the 'average' person who tries to do good things deserve God's punishment. That the worst sinner who puts their faith in Jesus on their last day on earth will go to heaven. And I knew she grasped it because her response spilled out immediately: "but that's not fair!"</p><p>That friend and I spoke English together. She was from another Central Asian country and her English was better than her Turkish. Hours upon hours of Turkish study and while I lived in Turkey, I got my clearest Gospel opportunities in English. That wasn't the type of opportunity I imagined when I was learning grammar and memorising vocabulary. Sometimes God moves in mysterious ways. </p><p>Earlier this week I sat with eight other people around a couple of tables pushed together in our church hall for our church's monthly prayer meeting. Two of those there were Iranian, still in the early-ish stages of learning English. The person who usually acts as the church's Farsi-English translator was not there but I was there and the Iranians who were there understand Turkish better than they do English. So in line with our church's general language and translation philosophy of 'do the best you can with who is there', as the prayer points were shared, I translated them into Turkish, so that everyone in the meeting could join together in praying in as informed a way as possible. There were plenty of grammatical errors, vocabulary that disappeared out of my head as I reached for it and at least a couple of words and concepts I had no idea how to translate (though in my defence, we didn't exactly need to know how to pray about the distribution of church leaflets and for the church to have greater presence in the community in the conservative Turkish city that we lived in). </p><p>In all the hours I spent learning Turkish, I never once imagined that I'd find myself using it in the UK with Iranians. I never imagined we'd be back in the UK after only spending five years in Turkey either. God moves in mysterious ways. </p><p>It's easy to praise God when he works in the straightforward ways, when I can draw a straight line between effort and results, when I can see God's fingerprints over an outcome so obviously. But when the Lord takes my efforts, often feeble as they are and entirely enabled by him, and turns my plans, those plans I carefully constructed with good intentions and a true desire to see God glorified, upside down and inside out, will I still praise him? Will I give in to the temptation to believe the lie that my plans would have been better? Or will I humbly acknowledge that I am only human and that the plans of the eternal, all-knowing God, who loved me when I didn't deserve it, are infinitely better than anything I could dream up? Will I marvel at how God takes my ideas and experiences and investments of time and energy and hopes and dreams and does something so unexpected with them that my right and only response is to worship him?</p><p>Praise God that he moves in straightforward and mysterious ways.<br /></p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-30892321767861934812021-08-16T10:37:00.000-07:002021-08-16T10:37:05.603-07:00Let's pray for Afghanistan<p> This morning I read that the Taliban had taken Kabul and I read Psalm 24. </p><p><span class="text Ps-24-1">"The earth is the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>’s, and everything in it,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-24-1">the world, and all who live in it;"</span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-24-1">Yes, on the level of earthly political powers and military forces, Afghanistan is under Taliban control. But really, Afghanistan is the Lord's and everything in it, the whole country, and all who live in it.</span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-24-1">There's reassurance in that verse. Afghanistan and every other country has always been the Lord's, and always will be. God is king of the world and the speed of the Taliban offensive did not take him by surprise.</span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-24-1">It's also an unsettling verse. The believers in Afghanistan are in even greater physical danger now. From the comfort of the West, we long to see our brothers and sisters in Christ free from persecution. And yet at the back of our minds is the nagging thought that if the sovereign Lord's plan includes his Afghan children living under Taliban rule, after all the hardships that Afghans have already been facing, what might his plan for us involve?</span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-24-1">It's a deeply sad verse. Afghanistan belongs to the Lord and he is rightfully due the worship of the people of Afghanistan. It has a population of over 39 million people and an estimated evangelical Christian population of 0.02% (<a href="https://joshuaproject.net/countries/AF" target="_blank">source</a>). There are millions of people living in Afghanistan who do not know Christ, who think Jesus was just a human prophet.</span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-24-1">It's a hopeful verse. The earth is the Lord's and everything in it. Every country of the world, including Afghanistan, and every person. And one day people from every tribe, tongue and nation will worship at the throne of the Lamb, and that includes the Afghan, Pashtun, Hazara and other peoples of Afghanistan. The earth is the Lord's so there is hope for Afghanistan. <br /></span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-24-1">Let's pray for Afghanistan.<br /></span></span></p><p><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-24-1"><br /></span></span></p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-40920993460013769132021-08-13T06:53:00.002-07:002021-08-13T06:53:33.126-07:00Changing our model of ministry<p> A few months ago, we relocated from Turkey back to the UK. We will be continuing to work alongside a local church in Turkey, but it will be through a model of in-person visits and remote work (i.e. Zoom). The plan is that going forward, and once COVID restrictions have eased, we will make one long annual visit to the city we used to live in as a family and my husband will make more regular shorter trips. We’ll do work such as discipleship lessons via video chat while in the UK and in-person when we visit. <br /><br />Why are we doing this? Living in one country and visiting another for ministry purposes is, in many ways, not ideal. Wouldn’t it be better to accept that God has closed this door for us and move on?<br /><br />Here’s a few reasons why:<br /><b><br />Our local pastor asked us to</b><br /><br />When we, in conjunction with our local Turkish church pastor, our sending church and our organisation, came to the reluctant conclusion that there was no good way for us to stay in our city long term, our local pastor pointed out that relatively speaking, the UK is not so far away from Turkey. He asked us if we’d relocate to the UK and come back and visit for ministry purposes. Cross-cultural workers foisting their own ideas onto a situation where there is already a local, Bible-believing church with its own leadership with no regard for the church or leadership is not respectful or helpful. But the flip side is that when our local church pastor asks us to do something, we need to think seriously about it.<br /><br /><b>It is possible</b><br /><br />In some ways, it’s not possible to know how realistic something is until you try it. But we’ve talked with our sending church and organisation and we all think it can work. The time difference isn’t too big, plane tickets aren’t too expensive, visas are not required and we speak the language. My husband will be making many of the visits by himself (once travel restrictions ease up) and we think our location and situation will allow us to manage that strain and impact on our family. Home educating our children makes a longer annual visit as a family possible.<br /><b><br />It will (hopefully) be useful</b><br /><br />Ironically, we will actually have more time to spend with our local Turkish church as visitors than we did living in that city, with my husband working nearly full-time to get a work permit for us to be able to live there. With non-Christians regularly getting in touch or turning up to the church building because they want to investigate Christianity, start reading the Bible or even become a Christian and start baptism lessons, there is plenty that can be done on visits and some of it can be continued via calls/video chat from the UK.<br /><br />Our local church is the only Turkish church in the city of 1.5 million but more than that, there are no churches in the neighbouring cities 2-3 hours drive away. The church doesn’t currently have much manpower to visit isolated (mostly male) believers in those cities but the hope is that my husband will be able to visit some of those men in person when he’s in the country and be in contact via calls/video chat when he’s in the UK. <br /><br />And the critical factor in this is that we already have the relationships with the church, having lived there for three years. In the Turkish culture, relationships are absolutely crucial and they take time. We know the church and they know us. Our pastor trusts us. We can visit and encourage church members and provide pastoral support as necessary.<br /><b><br />Why not?</b><br /><br />It is the Lord’s harvest and at the same time it is our privilege as God’s children to be involved in the great task of taking the Gospel to the nations. There are countries which, after a period of openness, are getting harder to get into again. It’s not a ‘traditional’ model of cross-cultural work, but new challenges of access and new opportunities through technology demand different solutions. There’s a little church in a big city with a faithful pastor in a country that desperately needs the Gospel and they’ve asked us to come and help in this way. Why wouldn’t we try and say yes to them?</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-30749002267703111822021-02-21T21:36:00.000-08:002021-02-21T21:36:04.832-08:00Come<p>In a couple of months we will relocate back to the UK and continue ministry here through visits and working remotely. We will have completed five years of overseas service. So few years compared to the years we had hoped and planned to spend living here and yet deeply significant years. It's no exaggeration to say that we're not the people we were when we came.</p><p>As I've been reflecting on our time here, I've wondered what I would have said to myself five, six, seven years ago when we were thinking and talking and dreaming and praying about serving God overseas. And what would I say to someone in a similar position now?</p><p>This is what I would say:</p><p>Come.</p><p>Come, even though it will be harder and more humbling than you could ever imagine. Come, knowing that there will be days that you feel so lonely, so worn out, so inadequate. You will cry, you will wonder how you will keep going, you will feel homesick, you will miss family and friends. You will try your hardest to fit into a culture where you'll always stand out as the foreigner and then find that you've left a piece of yourself here so that you don't fit so easily into your passport culture any more.</p><p>Come, and you will change. You'll be thrown so far out of your depth that you can do nothing but cling to Christ. You'll find that when you feel lonely and misunderstood by those around you and those back in your passport country, you can spill out your words to Jesus and he will truly understand you. You'll trust in God's sovereignty like you never have before because you see the reality of how not-in-control you are of your life. You'll find you are weaker than you ever supposed but Christ is stronger than you ever imagined.</p><p>Come, and you'll make friends with people from other cultures, eat new foods, learn a new language, explore a new country and rejoice in the diversity of God's creation. Come, and learn a little more about what it means to have citizenship in heaven and to long for our true home.</p><p>Come, one sent by and with the support of your church 'back home', because the church is the bride of Christ and God's means of advancing his kingdom on earth. And because you are going to need the support of your church family. Come, listening to the advice both of older believers who know you well and of those who've been out on the field a long time, because you know less than you think you do and there are so many things that you don't know that you don't know. Come, in partnership with the local church and believers where you'll be serving. There's nothing worse than foreigners who turn up and think that they know better than mature, respected local pastors.</p><p>Come, because although it might feel safer to stay home, you are safe with God. Come, even though you will see how deeply rooted the tendrils of pride and self-dependence are rooted in you. Come, knowing you are weak and not up to it, because God delights in using weak people and his grace is sufficient.</p><p>Come, because there are millions of people here who have never truly heard and understood the Gospel and the consequences are eternal. Come and know that results are not guaranteed because it is God who saves. But you may see lives changed and people saved and God might even use you - yes, you - as a means of accomplishing his work.</p><p>Come, even though people will disappoint you and hurt you and oppose you and you will invest so much only to see people walk away, because Jesus will look even more beautiful then.</p><p>Come, because the work is not yet done and the harvest field is ripe. Come, because God is at work and it is our privilege to be part of it. Come, because Jesus is worth it.</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-79547750472710687472021-02-06T02:39:00.004-08:002021-02-06T02:39:31.450-08:00Life in a goldfish bowl<p>"We've seen you around here. You live in that building, in that apartment don't you?" </p><p>We're outside on the grass that sits squashed between the mosque and the back of our apartment building. I've carefully chosen this time in the afternoon so that my children are not running around pretending to be knights and sword-fighting with sticks while on of the daily prayer times is going on. Three women have crossed over the street to talk to me from the apartment building opposite. A young woman, her mother and a grandmother. The grandmother leans on her granddaughter's arm. </p><p>"We've see you out on your balcony. Your children are so sweet. We've seen how your husband plays with the children too, how much you both love them," one of them continues. The grandmother had wanted to come and say hello in person. I nod and smile and say something politely back to them, mentally noting that our balcony is under observation.</p><p>Another day, we're in a park with friends. A Turkish lady I don't know is talking to my friend. My friend tells me later that I'm apparently well known enough in the area that this Turkish lady, who I've never talked before, used me and the building where I live as a landmark to explain where her shop is located. </p><p>Before we lived in this city, I read about some European workers living in China in the 1800s. They had to get used to curious faces looking in at the window, watching what they were doing and commenting among themselves on the actions of the strange white Westerners. I thought to myself then that I was glad I didn't live in a goldfish bowl. Imagine how discomfiting it would be to feel like you are constantly on display. </p><p>I remember living in Istanbul and consciously thinking that there were enough foreigners that we didn't stand out too much. Walking down the street, we didn't blend in with the Turks but it wasn't unusual to go to a children's play area in the part of the city we lived in and hear other people speaking English.</p><p>Now we live in central Turkey, in a tall apartment block surrounded by other tall apartment blocks. We don't live in as small a goldfish bowl as those workers in China did. There are no wondering faces pressed up against the glass here. That's one benefit of living in a second floor apartment. They're just looking out of their windows, across 10 metres and into our windows instead.</p><p>We live in a large goldfish bowl. In a city where there are very few Westerners, it's easy to stand out. With three small boys, closer in age than Turkish children often are and all with varying shades of light-coloured hair, we stand out a mile. We walk down the street and I know that people are looking at us. Some of the elderly men say <i>maşallah, ma</i><i>ş</i><i>allah</i> approvingly as I pass, a throwback to the old agricultural economy which prized boys. I hear murmurs of <i>çok tatlı (</i>they're very sweet) from others about the children. Somebody stops me outside the small supermarket to say hello because they've seen me in the park with the children before.</p><p>Some days, I love living in such a friendly and sociable community. I know that I'm challenging some of their preconceptions about how Christians (because all Westerners are considered Christians by most people here) dress and act and speak. I hope that helps break down barriers for the Gospel, or at least raises a question in their minds. Other days I long for anonymity, to not be watched and talked about and commented on.</p><p>The truth is, though, all of us live in a goldfish bowl. No matter what country we live in, our family, friends, colleagues and neighbours are watching how we live. They may not tell us that we're under observation quite as bluntly as my Turkish neighbours do. But they're taking note of us. Of whether we practise what we preach, of whether our claim to follow Christ truly impacts how we live. </p><p>And when we close the curtains and shut the door, it is tempting to think that we've managed to gain some privacy. It's all too easy to forget, though, that the sovereign God is watching. The drawn curtains might give us some privacy from the neighbours but every part of our lives is on display to God. God - mighty, merciful and unimaginably holy - sees my every thought, my every word, my every deed. </p><p>My family is highly visible in our community. That's just part of life here and it regularly, rightly, gives me pause for thought. But how much more should I pause to think about the whole of my life being visible before God.</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-45674349671707595462020-11-17T02:09:00.002-08:002020-11-17T02:09:58.482-08:002020 will not be wastedWhat a year 2020 has been. It's been described by some as a 'terrible' year or even the 'worst year' globally. Although historians would no doubt point out that there are some very strong other contenders for the 'worst year', it's certainly true to say that 2020 has been a year like no other in our lifetimes. Even now the effects of coronavirus continue to reverberate around our lives and compound the 'normal' struggles of life. As we get to the end of this year, it's tempting to draw a line under it and try to move on. <div><br /></div><div>I'm not tempted to pretend that 2020 never happened but I do feel the draw of deciding to write-off 2020, like a bad investment or broken asset. I could just admit that 2020 was pretty terrible, try not to dwell on it too much and get on with 2021. There is still six weeks to go of 2020 but it's tempting just to try and get on with 2021 right now. I can't change the calendar and make 2021 come any faster, but I can at least get on with planning 2021.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yet one idea keeps circling around my head.</div><div><br /></div><div>2020 will not be wasted.</div><div><br /></div><div>My friend and mentor when I was at university was the first person who repeated this idea to me, over and over again, until the words had sunk into my brain, although it certainly wasn't original to her and she didn't claim that it was. <i>God does not waste experiences</i>, she said, as I processed some difficult things that had happened. And over the last ten years, it's a thought that has stuck with me.</div><div><br /></div><div>God does not waste experiences. </div><div><br /></div><div>"In all things, God works for the good of those who love him" (Romans 8:28). Or, to rephrase, God has worked, and is working, for the good of his children in every part of their lives. There is no part of our lives that is redundant in the long, slow process of God conforming us to the image of his Son. There is no situation that God cannot and does not use. </div><div><br /></div><div>If we could see our lives from a bird's eye view, there would be no section that we could trim a little bit off for a more streamlined sanctification. If we could see how God is weaving and pulling together the strands of our days and weeks and months, there would not be one useless thread to pick out.</div><div><br /></div><div>This goes against our normal thinking. We look at events in our lives and we cannot comprehend how God could pull anything out of value out of them. I've looked at the mismatch between my hopes for 2020 and the reality; from a human perspective, I'm at a loss to figure out how much of this year could be anything but a waste. </div><div><br /></div><div>But 2020 will not be wasted because God does not waste experiences. If you have been united to Christ, then there is not one moment of 2020 that you can describe as worthless. The mundane, the disappointing, the hard, the boring, the encouraging, the heartbreaking - God won't squander a second of it. We may not know what good God will bring from 2020 but we can trust our heavenly Father to use it for his glory and to make us more like Christ. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of all the adjectives that we could use to describe 2020, it has not been a waste of a year.</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-44444411765172907442020-11-12T09:58:00.003-08:002020-11-12T09:58:52.273-08:00How to shock a deacon (and other things you might not be aware of)<p>We were just starting to raise support ahead of moving abroad and had, with the help and advice of our sending organisation, put together a provisional budget. We felt it was realistic and certainly well within the bounds of what we'd been told to expect by our organisation. The elders and deacons of our sending church had come over that evening to talk through our financial needs. I made everyone a cup of tea and pulled out a box of homemade cookies. My husband handed out copies of the draft budget. As everyone started to digest the contents of the sheet, one of the deacons skipped straight to the bottom of the page. As his eyes alighted on the total figure at the bottom, he almost fell off his chair in shock and surprise. </p><p>It wasn't the most auspicious start to gathering financial support, even if it does make for an amusing story now. Yet by God's grace, we have been and continue to be well supported financially in our work here. But in Western cultures (or, at least, British culture), where we often try as best we can to skirt around the subject of money, financial support for cross-cultural workers never seems like an easy topic to talk about. </p><p>A couple of weeks back we had another worker family come and spend a few days with us. They're good friends in a similar life position to us and we talked openly and honestly about a whole number of things, including issues surrounding financial support for workers.</p><p>The details of these conversations aren't pertinent and I don't want to expound on them here but I want to flag them as questions that we pondered and discussed. No issue has a clear right or wrong answer but comes down to how to apply wisdom depending on the person and situation. </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Different support models: salary; raising support according to a budget; partial self-support</li><li>Saving and investing for retirement, particularly coming from a culture where there is the expectation that individuals fund their own retirement in one way or another.</li><li>Whether and how much to save for our children's futures, so as to be able to contribute in some way towards young adult expenses such as driving lessons, weddings and university education.</li><li>The pressure to make sure that holidays don't look too luxurious, including avoiding or limiting photos on social media.</li><li>Consciousness of how spending decisions 'look' to supporters back home, for example getting paid cleaning help in the home.</li><li>Feeling the need to justify certain decisions, for instance how what might have looked like an extravagant holiday was actually a thrifty option.</li><li>Balancing the cost of different education options (private schools, national schools, home education) for children with other factors.</li><li>The interaction and balance between 'secular' work (where that is required in order to get a work visa to stay in the country), 'ministry' work, the salary for that secular work and additional financial support from ministry partners. </li><li>Whether and how much to explain to supporters about the particular pressures that come about from living and serving in a cross-cultural context and how that impacts spending decisions.</li></ul><div>And there are many more related questions that we didn't cover. These considerations are not all unique to cross-cultural workers but they do take on a particular significance when you rely on financial support from churches and individuals to live and work. Some of them weren't questions that we'd necessarily thought much about (or at all) before we came out on the field. </div><div><br /></div><div>Why am I sharing this?</div><div><br /></div><div>Most of us instinctively shy away from financial topics. They can be uncomfortably gray areas to discuss. But they are very real issues for workers, and for others in Christian ministry. I'd like to suggest that we get a little more comfortable talking about these things but I'm not too sure if that's realistic for most of us. I'd be content to raise awareness of these issues, to say that these are things that cross-cultural workers are thinking about. We feel the responsibility to steward well the resources - not just money, but time, energy, language ability, Bible understanding and knowledge, spiritual gifts - that we've been given by God. We don't take support for granted but are truly grateful for it. We deeply desire to do the right thing when it comes to living on support - the right thing for us, for our families, for the local church that we serve and for God's glory. And we wrestle with what that right decision is. An innocent comment from a supporter about a holiday we've taken can cut deeply. We might be serving abroad but we're still sinners, a bundle of Christ-exalting intentions moderated by pride and the fear of man, and that impacts our choices too.</div><div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />We are fortunate to have generous friends who urge us to remember our human frailty and to invest in looking after ourselves so we can keep serving. We're grateful for our partner churches' and individuals' support, for our sending organisation and for older, wiser cross-cultural worker friends, who have helped and advised us on some of these areas. We also know others who've struggled with one or more of these areas.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't make that cookie recipe much any more, but whenever I do I think of that evening with the elders and deacons. We had a good conversation that evening and I think everyone went away a little better informed of some of the financial considerations and factors involved in being a worker overseas. </div><div><br /></div><div>Let's talk and think and learn more about financial considerations for cross-cultural workers. </div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-71285670824227818592020-11-05T02:17:00.001-08:002020-11-05T02:17:42.256-08:00Rainy days<p>It was rainy yesterday. The drizzle all day kind of rain, clouds so low they obscure the top half of the mountain that we can see from our window. The summer months are dry here and though we get a little rain during summer, the rain and snow is mostly concentrated between November and April. I can't remember another all day, rainy day like yesterday in the previous five months. When we've driven out of the city in the last few months, the land has been dry and scorched from the summer heat, with a slash of green across the landscape every now and then, as trees mark out the path of a river.</p><p>I used to think of rain as a negative thing. I knew in my head that plants need rain to grow but from my wet British perspective, I thought that a little more sun and a bit less rain wouldn't be a bad thing. It's a thought echoed in popular culture: don't rain on my parade, why does it always rain on me, here comes the rain again...</p><p>Now I live in a much drier country, I have a whole new perspective on rain. Nowadays farmers can very easily irrigate crops that aren't next to a river but the watered green fields next to yellow barren ground provide a stark reminder of just how necessary and life-giving rain is. </p><p>Living here has helped me read many Bible verses with a fresh perspective, including the ones about rain. There's too much to say on the theological significance of rain in the Bible for one blog post but rain is a recurring theme in the Bible. So this is a skim along the surface, a few quick thoughts that have been circulating around my head about the Lord who is the master of the water cycle, the one who covers the sky with clouds and commands the rain to fall (Psalm 147:8).</p><p>When the Almighty God declares that his thoughts are not our thoughts, that his plans and purposes are more drenched in compassion than we could ever imagine, that his love is as great as the heavens are high above the earth, he uses rain and snow as a picture to illustrate his point. Just as rain and snow fall from the clouds and cannot return to the sky without running through the ground and watering the soil, enabling plants to grow, so God's merciful drawing of his people to him cannot be thwarted (Isaiah 55:6-11).</p><p>The Lord is our shepherd who makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside quiet waters (Psalm 23:1-2). I've seen sheep here making do with the scraggly, brown grass. They look scraggly and thin themselves, not much like the fluffy sheep we're used to in the UK. But the Lord doesn't tell us to make do with the unappealing brown grass. He shows his care for us as he refreshes us with the choicest pastures and safest waters.</p><p>God "causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous." (Matt 5:45) Jesus isn't saying here that sun = good, rain = bad so just as God sends good things to all people, bad things happen to all people too. Far from it! He's underlining our Father in heaven's merciful character by repeating his point in two different ways. Both the sun and the rain are evidence of God's common grace. </p><p>And waiting for rain gives us a picture of our lives right now. James gives us the example of a farmer patiently waiting for the seasonal rains, depending on the rain to water the waiting seeds and cause the crops to grow, as an encouragement to wait patiently for the Lord's return.</p><p>What exactly is it that we're meant to see in that patient farmer, looking day after day up at the sky for clouds to gather? James is not saying that a farmer hopes the rains will come but there's always the chance of a drought this year. He's using the year by year, decade by decade, century by century regularity of the seasons to make his point. </p><p>We can miss this too easily from a British context because rain is a reliable part of life all year round. Summer just hopefully means a little less rain! But both here and in Israel, there is a seasonal pattern to rain. The rain generally comes in the cooler months while in summer we can go for weeks without rain.</p><p>James explains the analogy when he writes that believers are to "be patient and stand firm, because the Lord's coming is near." (James 5:8) When the farmer has planted his seed and prepared the field, he can do no more. He needs that rain. Without rain, his crops will not grow and he will have no harvest, no food and no money. He cannot make it rain. But he trusts that the rain is coming, as it does every year. In the same way, we wait for the Lord's coming. We confidently live our lives with a firm and solid hope that Christ is coming again.</p><p>It's rained again here today, though not as much as yesterday and my children are asking to go out in the rain. As we stomp in puddles, I'll be reminding them that rain is a sign of God's mercy. That God is our caring shepherd. That God is our kind Father and every good thing that every person has comes from him. And that as sure as the seasons turn, Christ is coming again.</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-82465820617633586172020-10-23T09:38:00.000-07:002020-10-23T09:38:08.440-07:00Asking locals to be self-supporting - where possible<p>I really appreciated <a href="https://entrustedtothedirt.com/2020/10/19/is-it-hypocrisy-to-ask-locals-to-be-self-supporting/">this article</a> asking whether it is hypocrisy to ask locals to be self-supporting. The author makes some excellent points and is completely right to say, "dependency upon Western dollars is a major problem, undercutting the emergence of healthy churches in many places overseas and stunting local believers in their growth."</p><p>He is spot on in identifying that local aspiring leaders can sometimes be found on the look out for Western patrons and that when there is a weak (or non-existent) culture of giving among local believers, it becomes self-perpetuating. </p><p>The author says, "Foreign financial support, if attempted, must be done very carefully and wisely, always with an explicit vision toward self-supporting local churches." Agreed. Self-supporting local churches are the best way forward. He goes on to say, though, that while proven, mature workers are worthy of their wages but that their salary should either be locally-raised or part of a plan where it decreases over time, similar to church plants in the West. If Western money is to be invested, training local leaders to either start a business or find work can be a better use of resources.</p><p>Foreign financial support must be done with thought and care and with an aim of moving towards self-support. But I'd add one more important part.</p><p>Self-supporting local churches are the best way forward - where this is possible. </p><p>I know that there are some Western churches whose demographics make it nigh on impossible for them to become self-supporting. Stephen Kneale has <a href="https://stephenkneale.com/2019/11/21/four-reasons-we-need-external-partners/">written</a> about how their church situation in northern England means that they need long term external partners. He lists four reasons why that is the case for them: who they're reaching; transient population; great physical need; and nobody else is there.</p><p>If I hope and expect that most churches and church plants in Western countries would become self-supporting at some point but understand that there are situations where that might not be the case, I should accept that similar situations may arise in other countries too. </p><p>Looking at the Bible, there is clearly a principle of teaching and encouraging sacrificial giving. But, as with many Biblical commands, we have freedom to use Spirit-given wisdom to determine how exactly to apply that. </p><p>While acknowledging that self-supporting local churches is the ideal, can we find room for an understanding that some churches in every country will need financial support from long term external partners? The key here has to be that they should be long term and partners. I'm not advocating pulling out the cheque book to give whatever is requested, no questions asked. Neither should money flow in with strict strings attached, where the givers decide how the money they give should be spent. </p><p>It should be a relationship, a true partnership in the Gospel where there is healthy sharing and accountability. </p><p>Let's imagine a situation. (You can decide how rooted in reality it may or may not be!). A local pastor is not locally supported. And looking around at his church, even if everyone was giving sacrificially, that would still not be enough. Every single one of the reasons Stephen Kneale lists in his article linked above would apply to that local fellowship. It's not primarily comprised of refugees and asylum seekers, but there are certainly some. Others do not have well-paying jobs or are students. The church membership is fairly transient too - many of those who come to faith and are baptised end up moving to other cities. This is usually for work but sometimes to gain greater freedom to be involved in church due to local family pressures. There's great physical need too. And there are no other churches in the city, or even remotely near to the city. </p><p>Yes, this pastor could go back to secular work. But after 5.5 days of secular work a week, and with a wife and family, would it be healthy and sustainable to ask him to pastor on top of that? He already has more work as a full-time pastor than he can handle alone, particularly as there are a large number of 'seekers' in both his city and neighbouring cities who come to him and want to investigate Christianity, and not a lot of people in the church practically and theologically able to help in this. He's been doing this role for a number of years too - long enough that he'd have moved out of any gradual step-down support plan by any Western timescales.</p><p>This local pastor's church have not got everything sorted perfectly in their fellowship. Like many other churches, there is more to be done in developing a sacrificial giving culture. There is also more to be done in establishing a healthy understanding that Western churches are not just a source of money to be tapped. </p><p>But a critical element of his external support is that it comes with in-country accountability. Twice a year, a small group of men meet with him and his wife. They are a mixture of fellow pastors from other cities and foreign workers who live and work in the country and who know him well. They have an honest conversation about what he's doing and how he's spending his time, how the church is doing, and a holistic look at how he and his family are doing. This type of on-the-ground accountability by people who know and care for him, as well as knowing the church and the culture, is a vital component of healthy, long-term external partnerships. The group act as a bridge between the external supporters and the local pastor. Working together in this way builds trust and provides reassurance that Western money is not being invested unwisely. This partnership model has worked well for a number of years and has provided this pastor with the spiritual, emotional and financial support to continue in ministry through some difficult periods. And there is Gospel fruit evident.</p><p>It's not hypocrisy to ask locals to be self-supporting. But if that's really not possible, might healthy long term partnerships be an alternative?</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-32932548977693219072020-09-24T02:43:00.000-07:002020-09-24T02:43:33.754-07:00Our best kingdom work<p> "Jesus will build his church... but it's also frustrating to be so limited."</p><p>That was my message to a friend the other day. Life here continues but it is hemmed in by necessary coronavirus precautions. </p><p>As a family, we have less than a year remaining to live full-time in our city, due to visas. Yet (in part because of those self-same visas) this period also provides my husband and I with greater time, flexibility and freedom to serve the local church here. We thought we might have had to leave sooner; we didn't anticipate getting this extra time here. And we're carrying mental lists of good, useful things we could be doing in these bonus months. Meeting up with people interested in the Gospel. Preparing food for everyone to eat together after a church service. Visiting isolated believers in other cities. Sharing dinner, conversation and life with church family. Getting on with baptism lessons with a brand new believer. </p><p>These lists and plans involve a lot of doing. And as Christians, we are meant to be doing. We're to be doers of the word, devoting ourselves to doing what is good (James 1:22; Titus 3:14). We are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works (Ephesians 2:10).</p><p>But right now we can't get on with most of the things on our lists. And the things we can do are often having to be done in a less-than-ideal way. </p><p>I've been praying recently, "Lord, I don't know how but use coronavirus for your glory. Use us here for your glory." When I'm being honest though, I recognise that beneath my prayer there's an undercurrent that says, "Why God? You seem to have shut the door on us remaining here long-term but you've given us these additional months to stay. Aren't we meant to be stewarding them well, working through the Spirit's power for the growth of your church here? Aren't we meant to be doing more than we can right now?". </p><p>I don't think it's wrong to humbly ask God why. However there's a temptation interwoven into my questions and prayers, to believe that my plan, full of things to do, would be better than God's plan. But what if God's plan is also full of things for me to do, but my idea of what I should be focusing on this year is different from God's idea of what I should be doing?</p><p>In his book, 'The Disciple-Making Parent', Chap Bettis quotes Paul Miller as saying "It didn't take me long to realize that I did my best parenting by prayer. I began to speak less to the kids and more to God." Bettis goes on to ask "Might you do your best parenting by prayer?"</p><p>Prayer as our best parenting doesn't mean that the other aspects of parenting are unimportant. As parents, we still have to love and teach our children. We still have to do the repetitive tasks of parenting - feeding, clothing, clearing up messes. We nurture them as we listen, encourage, discipline, read, explore and play. We actively point them to Jesus as we teach them, pray with them, bring them to church and weave the gospel into our everyday lives. But prayer as our best parenting recognises that we cannot change our children's hearts. It shows that we cannot parent by our own strength but must go about our parenting consciously relying on God's power. It might not change the core of what we do, but it will most definitely change how we do it.</p><p>Might I do my best kingdom work by prayer? Might I have no other choice but to do my best kingdom work this year by prayer? Could it be that this year I will talk less with my brothers and sisters in Christ, more to God and be more effective in ministry?</p><p>I dare not make presumptions as to what the Almighty God can and will achieve through coronavirus. I do not know how he will use these strange times for his glory. But I wonder if God is using the limitations of my circumstances to bring me to my knees in prayer. </p><p>When what we can do seems so inadequate, the delusion that we can change people falls away. When our ability to 'do' is reduced, we expose the lie that our efforts are sufficient to build Christ's church. When we are constrained and limited, we uncover the truth that was there all along: we are meant to do good works but we're meant to do them with a prayerful dependence on God. </p><p>Prayer as our best kingdom work doesn't mean that our other work here is useless or insignificant. Less time to spend with church family doesn't mean that we won't talk to them at all. We'll still be taking all the opportunities that we reasonably can to help build up the body of Christ here. At the same time, we're acknowledging that maybe this year, God is going to visibly show us that we'll do our best discipling, encouraging, teaching by prayer.</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-65739687022687484272020-08-31T23:02:00.000-07:002020-08-31T23:02:30.347-07:002000 years on, history repeats itself<p> Imagine the scene. You're walking down the streets of Ephesus one day in the 1st century AD. You see a group of people gathered in the street. The group is growing larger by the minute. They're muttering and talking to each other, some are shaking their heads and others look surprised. You can't quite work out what all the fuss is about but as you approach you see smoke rising from the centre of the group.</p><p>Getting closer, you see what is happening. There are some Followers of the Way, the people who claim a crucified man from a backwater of the Roman empire came back to life and worship him as God, in the middle, standing next to a fire. The fire is being fuelled by - no it can't be - scrolls, of all things. Valuable scrolls! The whispered incredulity of the onlookers is clearly audible.</p><p>"They're crazy! Do they know how much those are worth?"</p><p>"That's a fortune going up in flames! Couldn't they have sold them at least?"</p><p>"Do they have to make such a public spectacle of themselves?"</p><p>Fast forward 2000 years and there's no need to imagine the scene. Another group of onlookers have gathered on a packed beach, only a few miles away from the ruins of Ephesus. It's not fire that's drawn them this time but water. Next to the families sitting on the sand, a small collection of people are watching three people wade out into the sea, one by one. They stop when the water reaches to their waists. Two others are already in the sea waiting for them. And each of the three stands in the sea and declares that they follow that same crucified, resurrected man-God. Such a public display is only possible in a few places in this country - attempting the same thing elsewhere is too risky. </p><p>I'm a visitor accustomed to life in a much more conservative city and am delighted to be able to witness this but also feel uncomfortable and exposed in such a public setting. But as I stand on the hot sand, I can see and hear those wandering past, who stop and stare at this strange sight.</p><p>These onlookers, like their predecessors centuries before likely did, watch with surprise and provide their own commentary to others joining them.</p><p>"They're Turks getting baptised."</p><p>"Muslims becoming Christians."</p><p>The actions of the believers seem just as incomprehensible to bystanders as they must have done in early church times. </p><p>And we pray that just like in Acts, the Word of the Lord would spread widely and in power.</p>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-43675527488159555692020-08-18T10:23:00.001-07:002020-08-18T10:23:54.261-07:00Western Christian - the world is watching you<div><i>This is a joint post from my husband and I.</i></div><div><br /></div><div>We know that these are strange and difficult times right now. We've prayed for wisdom for church leaders globally as they seek the best solution to the principles of rightly wanting to meet together, loving each other, loving neighbours, protecting individual freedoms and obeying governments. We've prayed for grace and unity in churches.</div><div><br /></div><div>But when Western churches and believers balance all of these up, there is another factor to consider too. You may not be aware but your actions are visible to the rest of the world. Your choices can have consequences for your brothers and sisters in countries around the world where it is much more difficult to be a Christian.</div><div><br /></div><div>In Turkey, our media is very often filled with stories of
disasters, scandals and problems of every kind that are happening
across the world, especially in more Western and richer countries.
(You can speculate about why that might be the case, but it is).
This also combines with a nationalism that is tied up with an
Muslim identity. For some people, this manifests as an anti-Christian identity.</div><div>
<p>So, surprising as it may seem, the actions of churches in countries such as the USA, UK, Canada, Europe and elsewhere can actually be <a href="https://www.dailysabah.com/world/europe/prayer-meeting-at-evangelical-church-spawned-biggest-cluster-of-covid-19-in-france">newsworthy</a> here, even more so if it involves civil disobedience or results in
a COVID-19 outbreak. </p><p>As Christians we follow the Lord Jesus, first and foremost. It is also clear from the Bible that it <a href="https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/why-it-matters-what-outsiders-think">matters what outsiders think</a>. We want to honour Christ's name and create opportunities to share the Gospel. Western churches have cultural capital to draw on, the result of decades and centuries as generally being seen as a force for good in society. The situation in many other countries is rather different. </p><p>One American church has started meeting in defiance of local government edicts. The reaction from the congregation was <a href="https://twitter.com/Phil_Johnson_/status/1292561971221377025">cheers and applause</a>. If the believers here were similarly to come to the conclusion that, having exhausted other options, publicly defying government regulations was the only path of faithfulness that remained, the atmosphere would be better described as 'fear and trembling' rather than celebratory. If for some reason this intention was announced to the state beforehand, the meeting would be characterized by solemn joy, knowing that it would be our last. In addition to the inevitable church closure, believers would be shunned in society and risk dismissal from work. Some of the younger believers would likely be banned from meeting with any other believers. Preconceptions of Christians would be reinforced and it would be harder to share the Gospel.</p><p>This is no exaggeration. 350,000 people and the country's top political leaders came to the <a href="https://www.dailysabah.com/life/religion/thousands-attend-1st-bayram-prayers-in-hagia-sophia">first Friday prayers</a> following the conversion of the historic Hagia Sophia (originally a church building) back into a mosque a few weeks ago. It's not difficult to imagine how people here might feel about living churches. And there are many countries where believers face much more serious opposition. </p><p>When ideas circulate that Christians are agents of the West and plotting the downfall of Middle Eastern countries, believers in those countries must work hard to show that while they may be Christians, they still love their country and want the best for it. The concept of a Christian as a moral, good person is (mainly thanks to Hollywood and 11th-13th century history) not widespread at all. So Christians here know that our reputation with outsiders matters for the Gospel and seek to do good, so silencing ignorant talk (<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1Pet%202:15">1 Pet 2:15</a>). </p><p>And the actions of Western churches reflect on Christians and churches here. </p><p>Local believers are taking tiny steps forward in dismantling those deeply ingrained prejudices, but years of work can be undone in moments. Negative stereotypes of Christians can be reinforced so easily by a news report of a Western church.</p><p>
</p><p>Christian brothers and sisters
in the West, please know that your choices have consequences for how the name of Christ is viewed in other countries. Please be aware of the position of influence — for good or
bad — that you enjoy. When you consider your rights and freedoms to meet together, do not forget the rights and freedoms of your brothers and sisters in Christ across the world. They may bear the greater cost of your actions.</p></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-11856358379630065892020-07-26T04:35:00.000-07:002020-07-26T04:35:08.222-07:00Don't just learn from church history - look to the global church too<div>In all the discussion about how to navigate the consequences and implications of COVID-19 for churches and believers meeting together, historical events have often been alluded to. From the efforts of Christians to care for the sick in Roman times, Martin Luther's refusal to leave Wittenburg when bubonic plague came, to the Great Ejection of the Puritans in 1662, people <a href="https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/4-lessons-church-history/">have</a> <a href="https://www.rzim.org/read/rzim-global/coronavirus-a-biblical-historical-perspective">drawn</a> <a href="https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/spurgeon-ministry-cholera-outbreak/">analogies</a> <a href="https://www.gty.org/library/blog/B200723?fbclid=IwAR0g9b1M0sLA0WqPYansXrKGsFLYpDUO19yGpZu7o1an9rmB19HUC9GdEuI">with</a> what Christians have done in past centuries.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is right and good. The Bible is of course our authority but we have a lot to learn from those who have gone before us in how they interpreted and applied Biblical principles to real life. We sometimes talk about being in uncharted waters now, but there are those who have navigated similar waters in the past and we do well to carefully consider their examples and decisions.</div><div><br /></div><div>But wouldn't it be better if instead of reading their words and about their situations, we could talk to them? Wouldn't you like to hear the voices of those early Church believers who lived through such difficult times and yet still rejoice in Christ? Wouldn't it be good to have a conversation with the brothers and sisters in Christ who have had to weigh up the hard decisions about whether or not to meet in person and the dangers of hymn singing? Wouldn't it be great to be able to talk with the Puritans about when and how civil disobedience is required?</div><div><br /></div><div>Those believers are in heaven now and we'll have to wait until we get there for the in-person conversations. But the global church is full of people who have either wrestled with analogous issues in the last fifty years or are still experiencing them today. Christians in the West would do well to remember that they can draw on the breadth and depth of experience within the global church - and then actually do so.</div><div><br /></div><div>Limits on attendance? In many countries, for either legal or practical reasons, believers often need to meet in homes. That's an attendance cap.</div><div><br /></div><div>Unable to sing? There are countries today where either it is within living memory that Christians were <a href="https://www.chinapartnership.org/blog/2018/3/the-chinese-church-and-the-culture-part-2-yesterday-today-and-tomorrow">unable to sing aloud</a> or they are currently still unable to do so.</div><div><br /></div><div>Submission to civil government in a Biblically appropriate way? Take your pick of countries where believers have been working through these issues for many years. </div><div><br /></div><div>In our city in Turkey, we've been thinking through the implications of COVID-19 for public worship and the meeting of believers. Our Turkish pastor has been leading that - but he does so from the perspective of someone who may not have lived through a pandemic before but has certainly dealt with some similar issues. Our church may meet in a building now, but it started off as a house church. Our pastor has thought through when and how to submit to civil government for years. For example, the law here prohibits under-18s from attending church without parental permission and we fairly frequently have teenagers who want to come to our meetings. He hasn't personal experience of believers being afraid to come to church for fear of catching a virus - but, after three Christians were martyred in a city not too far away from us 13 years ago, he does have experience of believers being afraid to come to church for fear of being killed or persecuted. </div><div><br /></div><div>Practically, if a church already has links with cross-cultural workers in countries where there is likely to be experience to learn from, it may be as simple as asking them to help facilitate some links and information sharing from their local leaders and believers. Books, articles and videos also give insight into how churches across the world have adapted in the face of difficulties, but a bit more digging might be necessary to find helpful analogous situations.</div><div><br /></div><div>Clearly a course of action should not be automatically approved solely because it originates from an African, Asian or Middle Eastern church. Suffering and difficulty does not always result in practices in line with an orthodox understanding of Scripture. There are issues of right Biblical interpretation and appropriate cultural application too. And these are not clear cut issues - two different people from the same cultural background, never mind different cultures, can take the same Biblical principles and after prayer and deliberation come to different conclusions. There is a good chance you might disagree with the approach that a pastor from a persecuted church (as well as the pastor from the church down the road) has taken.</div><div><br /></div><div>But if you're going to look to history for examples of how Christians have dealt with similar issues, you might also remember that there is wisdom and value in looking to the current global church as well.</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-36032042096612984542020-07-17T10:44:00.000-07:002020-07-17T10:44:42.748-07:00Sharing the Gospel with MuslimsI met up with a friend the other morning. Our children played in the park together and we chatted between rocking pushchairs and doling out snacks. She'd forgotten her mask so borrowed her daughter's Frozen-themed mask.<div><br /></div><div>She has a Masters degree and worked in finance before having children. She speaks four languages and even while speaking in English - her third language - she made me laugh out loud with some of her stories.</div><div><br /></div><div>My family have just returned from holiday with another British family and as we were chatting about that, my friend asked if my family had had opportunity for worship times together with the other family while away together. We talked a bit about how God reveals himself in nature too.</div><div><br /></div><div>As we walked back, our conversation veered towards parenting and discipline. We were both agreed on the importance of children learning to obey authority while they were young and the need for consequences when they disobey. I mentioned my belief that learning to obey authority is particularly important because we want them to know that God is the ultimate authority. She wasn't quite convinced because, in her words, "I want my children to first know that God loves them and as they get a bit bigger to introduce the idea of God's authority, I don't want them to be scared of or dislike God."</div><div><br /></div><div>My friend is a committed Muslim. She covers her hair and prays five times a day.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know how many Muslim friends you have. But if you don't have the opportunity for many interactions with Muslims, here's a few things I'd love for you to know.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Muslims are individuals</b></div><div>Like everyone else, Muslims are individuals. Forget any assumptions or stereotypes and get to know the person in front of you. They are not an evangelism project, they are individuals with their own life story, hopes, dreams and fears. They may also have their own understanding and interpretation of Islam. I was surprised that my friend sees Allah as a God of love as that's not typically an emphasis in Islam. Circumstances (also known as corralling small children while walking down a street) prevented me from asking more about that, but I'm intrigued to know more of her thoughts on God's love and I've made a mental note that it's something to follow up on when I get chance.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>God-talk isn't sharing the Gospel</b></div><div>Talking about God usually comes up fairly naturally in conversation when you're talking with Muslims. But just talking about God isn't sharing the Gospel. When our conversation has a smattering of God-talk sprinkled through it, it it sometimes difficult to know if you're talking to a Christian or a Muslim. My friend has been at my house before and picked up a toddler book called 'God made me'. She agreed with every word in it. If we haven't mentioned our sin and need of a Saviour, Jesus and his death on the cross and resurrection, and that it is only the free gift of grace that gets us right with God again, then we haven't shared the Gospel. <br /><br /></div><div><b>Relationships need time</b></div><div>I didn't talk about Jesus that morning. Nor did I share the Gospel. But as God comes up in conversation and my friend sees that my faith is real and active, I'm earning credibility. And because my friend and I see each other fairly regularly, it's an ongoing conversation. I've talked a little about Jesus before. I'm asking her questions and listening to her. I'm praying that I'll have an opportunity to share the Gospel and that her ears and heart would be open to it.<br /><br /></div><div><b>The Gospel is powerful</b></div><div>The good news that we have to share is the best news there is. It is "the power of God that brings salvation" (Rom 1:16). It makes spiritually dead people alive again. And we have the privilege of proclaiming it. That means we do actually have to proclaim it! When you're talking to someone who has been taught their entire life that the Bible has been changed and Jesus didn't actually claim to be God and he didn't really die on the cross, it's tempting to think that nothing will change their mind. But the Gospel comes with the power to transform people and we should be bold and confident in speaking it.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Prayer changes things</b></div><div>We won't accomplish anything without prayer. Prayer changes things. My friend gets up in the early hours to complete her prayers despite already being up in the night to nurse a baby. But as Christians, we are invited into the throne room of the one true and living God to talk to him as our Father and he is always ready to listen to us. We must pray.<br /><br /><div>And will you pray for my friend and I? I'm almost certainly the only Christian she knows and possibly has ever met. Pray that she will be thirsty for living water and searching for truth. Pray that she'd be dissatisfied with any idea of being able to earn her way to God. Pray that I'd have the opportunity to share the Gospel clearly with her. Pray that the Gospel would powerfully impact her and bring her to Christ. Pray that God's Spirit will be at work.</div></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-33833059176601425532020-07-12T20:48:00.000-07:002020-07-12T20:48:06.086-07:00Brought not called<div>The concept of 'being called' comes up, either implicitly or explicitly, rather frequently when you're in cross-cultural work. It's a reflection of the hearts of people who want to serve God well but it's also a phrase that can be easily misused or misunderstood.</div><div><br /></div>While there can be a lot of confusion over what 'being called' and the idea of 'calling' means, Kevin DeYoung hit the nail on the head a couple of years ago in<font color="#3367d6"> <a href="https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevin-deyoung/calling-even-good-question/">this blog post</a></font>:<div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>We have an upward call in Christ to be with Jesus and to be like Jesus (Phil. 3:14). We have been called to freedom, not bondage (Gal. 5:13). God has saved us and called us to a holy calling (2 Tim. 1:9). He has called us to his own glory and excellence (2 Peter 1:3). Not many of us were called to noble things (in the world’s eyes), but, amazingly, we have been called to Christ (1 Cor. 1:26). And if called, then justified, and if justified, then glorified (Rom. 8:30).</i></div></div><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div><div><div><i>In other words, I do not see in Scripture where we are told to expect or look for a specific call to a specific task in life.</i></div></div></blockquote><div><br /></div><div>He goes on to say that we do not need to necessarily abandon the language of 'calling' but we do need to be very careful in how we use the terms 'call' or 'calling'. We want to be making sensible decisions and thinking through whether something is a wise and appropriate route to follow rather than looking for a special word from God about a specific job, place or career. DeYoung highlights that ministry books typically talk about the three components of a 'call' - an internal call, an external call and a formal call - and that these can be a useful frame to use in decision-making.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the circles we're from, and in our agency, we typically talk about the 'call' to overseas Christian service in a similar way. I often hear it as 'desire, opportunity, affirmation'. That is the desire to go (the inward call), the affirmation of a sending church of the gifting and maturity of the one(s) being sent (the external call) and the opportunity of being free to go and with an appropriate place, people and need to go to (the formal call).</div><div><br /></div><div>DeYoung goes on to issue a warning at the end of his blog post though:</div><div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i>In short, if this is what is meant by “calling”—know yourself, listen to others, find where you are needed—then, by all means, let’s try to discern our callings. But if “calling” involves waiting for promptings, listening for still small voices, and attaching divine authority to our vocational decisions, then we’d be better off dropping the language altogether (except as its used in the Bible) and labor less mysteriously to help each other grow in wisdom.</i></div></blockquote><div><br /></div><div>And this is where the problem comes in for us. I use the term 'called' as a shorthand to mean exactly what DeYoung says - know yourself, listen to others, find out where you are needed. When I say 'God called us to Turkey', I mean 'God gave my husband and I the desire to serve the church in Turkey, and our family and life situation made our going possible; our sending church affirmed our suitability for that role and, with the support of our agency, sent us; we were sent to help in the work of making and growing disciples within the context of a local church; and with the help of local partners, we found a church and city where the local pastor wanted us to come and where there was a clear need.' It's just that most of the time that's a bit of a mouthful and if we're all on the same page with what being 'called' means, it's easier just to say 'called'.</div><div><br /></div><div>But the nature of overseas Christian service means mixing and working with other believers, both national and foreign, who are from different Christian circles to us. And so when I say 'called' they may have the same understanding as I do or they may be thinking about promptings, still small voices, etc. </div><div><br /></div><div>As a result, while I may still use the term 'calling' with certain groups of people, for most of my conversations here I've taken DeYoung's advice and dropped the word 'called'. I found I still needed some kind of term to describe succinctly how we ended up here though. So I use the word 'brought'.</div><div><br /></div><div>God brought us to Turkey. God brought us to our current city.</div><div><br /></div><div>Using this language has several advantages. Firstly, it is not the word 'called'. It is the terms 'called', 'call' and 'calling' that seem particularly associated with still small voices. By using a different word, those immediate associations are avoided. And as a more concrete term, it removes the possibility of talking about 'calling' as an abstract or unrealised feeling. Secondly, it opens the way to talk about how God brought us here. It feels more natural and less intrusive to ask someone 'so how did God bring you here?' than it does to ask 'so how exactly were you called?'. </div><div><br /></div><div>Most importantly, it puts God, not us, centre stage. There is sometimes a tendency when talking about being 'called' to make it more about us than it should be; we heard the voice, waited for the sign, went through the open door. Others may say, "this is our calling". And when we feel the weight of being 'called', we want to see the fruit of our work, the evidence that we really were called. Returning to our home country can feel like failure and lead to questioning God - "but I thought I was called to this? Was there a mistake? Am I no longer called?".</div><div><br /></div><div>But this is God's work and it's our privilege to play just a tiny part in it. God brought us here, therefore we can be faithful to the work and leave the results in God's hands. God brought us here and so he will sustain us when we'd be ready to give up and say it's just too hard. God brought us here and he'll keep us here for as long as he wants. God brought us here, so he can also bring us back to our home country if he desires.</div><div><br /></div><div>God brought us here and we can trust in his goodness and sovereignty.</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-22337550850164490402020-06-16T00:50:00.003-07:002020-06-16T04:00:38.868-07:00Socially distanced church: our priority and our problemWe love our church. It's not always the easiest to take three young children to church but I've <a href="http://talesofbeingallthere.blogspot.com/2019/02/monday-encouragement.html">written before</a> that we believe that Sundays, meeting with the local body of Christ, are good for children. Even for third culture kids who can miss a lot of what is going on in the service, we believe there are <a href="http://talesofbeingallthere.blogspot.com/2019/05/third-culture-kids-and-sundays.html" target="_blank">benefits and blessings</a> from church in a second language. Being with our local church fellowship on a Sunday to meet and worship God together is the priority of our week.<div><br /></div><div>Our church has now been able to meet in person for the last two Sundays. Being back together in person is special even if not quite the same with masks, social distancing and a temperature check at the door. We've attended the last two weeks as a family, all of us except the baby dutifully masked. But we're now wrestling with the question of whether we take our children back this Sunday. </div><div><br /></div><div>The reality is that we don't have enough space in our church building for everyone to come and remain socially distant from each other. The members of one household (e.g. a family) obviously do not sit socially distanced, but with a relatively high percentage of our church family being individuals, we don't have enough space for even a third of the normal congregation to come.</div><div><br /></div><div>Should we keep our children at home to literally create space for others to come? </div><div><br /></div><div>Last Sunday one of our students brought two friends to church. In all likelihood, it was probably their first time ever attending a church service, their first time hearing the Bible read and preached, their first time experiencing a group of Christians worshipping God together. Our current family circumstances means that one of us almost invariably misses the sermon because we're out with the baby and our other two children remain in the service but do not have the Turkish language ability to understand what is said. Is it better for one of us to stay at home with the children so we do not risk having to turn people away who have never heard the Gospel before?</div><div><br /></div><div>This is a hard issue. We believe wholeheartedly that going to church as a family on a Sunday is the most important thing we do all week. Aside from the very real concern about protecting the reputation of the church in a Muslim society, we believe it is right to willingly obey the central and local government's rules about social distancing. While social distancing is required for our church services, there is not the physical space for everyone who wants to come. We are also foreigners who have come to serve the local Turkish church; each of us must look not only to our own interests but also to the interests of others (Phil 2:4) and that is doubly true when we have come as cross-cultural workers. We must put the interests of the church, and of Turks, above our own interests. But how do we do that while also looking to the interests of our children? Added to which, we have no idea of timescales. There's a reasonable probability that we'll need to be social distancing for the next several months, possibly to the end of 2020 or beyond. I'm typing this and recoiling at even having to countenance the idea of not taking our children to church for most of 2020.</div><div><br /></div><div>We're praying for wisdom, talking to our pastor and thinking through different solutions currently. Do we set up a video relay in another part of the church building? Do we alternate with another family and take it in turns to come to church? What about my husband and I alternating who goes to church each week and whoever goes takes either the 5 year old or the 3 year old (who can sit on a lap and not take up extra space), leaving the others at home to join by Zoom? If as a church we need to start thinking medium term, do we need to start thinking about knocking through walls in the church building to create a bigger meeting room?</div><div><br /></div><div>This is uncharted territory for us, and for others who will be thinking through similar issues. There are no ideal solutions right now, only making the best of a non-ideal situation. But God is not a distant god waiting to punish us for not availing ourselves of the means of grace that he set out. He is our loving Father who knows our hearts and our desire to be in church together each Sunday. He understands when we tell him that we really want to be meeting with our church family to worship him each Sunday but we just can't figure out a way for all of us to do that legally, safely and while loving our neighbours. He has given us the Holy Spirit and gives us wisdom to think through the options and decide on what we think is the best way forward.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the same time as thinking through all of this, I've been working on writing up the testimony of a good Turkish believer friend. She became a Christian as a teenager but due to significant family pressures and the need for parental permission for under-18s to go to church here, she was unable to go to church (with the exception of Christmas and Easter services) for three years. For some of that time she had no easy access to a Bible. She desperately wanted to go to church but couldn't and the Lord kept her throughout all of that time. Her experience reassures me of God's goodness. God has given us the local church as a means of grace for our good and growth as believers and being part of a community of local believers is a crucial part of what it means to be a Christian. But when we've done everything we can and it is just not possible for us to be at church together every week, we can trust in God's goodness and faithfulness to bless, sustain and strengthen us - and our children.</div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-47324949141335043762020-06-14T11:40:00.000-07:002020-06-14T11:40:56.940-07:00People are complicated"Look, I've killed the monster!" he cries triumphantly, cape trailing behind him, stick sword in hand. My three year old and five year old's favourite role play game is some version of "goody vs baddy". Monsters vs superheroes. Knights vs dragons. If we watch a film, they want to know who the goody is and who the baddy is. In the darkest moments of a film (and we're talking Disney and Pixar here), they crave the reassurance that the goody will win in the end. We talk about the great story of good vs evil too. They point to the picture illustrating the story of Revelation in their children's Bible, of Jesus conquering the dragon, and they tell us "Jesus wins."<div><br /></div><div>There's a developmental appropriateness to young children's desire to divide the world into goodies and baddies, to categorise them neatly as one or the other. Recent events have shown that adults are not immune either to the temptation to divide people into simple categories of 'goody' and 'baddy'. For instance, there has been a move to recategorise historical figures from 'goody' to 'baddy' with the toppling of statues; in the UK, protestors toppled the statue of slave trader philanthropist Edward Colston and threw it into the harbour. A statue of Winston Churchill has been boarded up ahead of planned protests; he is regarded by many as a great wartime leader. He also believed in racial hierarchies. </div><div><br /></div><div>Christians are not immune to these problems either. We fall in love with our spiritual heroes and then belatedly realise they too have feet of clay. Martin Luther and his anti-semitism. Jonathan Edwards, George Whitefield and their ownership of slaves. John Wesley's marriage. William Carey's family life. It can get more personal too. Church leaders fall into sin. Christians we looked up to let us down. And with the tangle of thoughts and emotions that we're left with, it's easy to either turn a blind eye to someone's sin, rationalising it away, or to go to the other extreme and dismiss every good action or truthful word they've ever done or spoken.</div><div><br /></div><div>We might also take groups of people and automatically assign them to be goodies or baddies. Cops. Protesters. Politicians. Civil servants. Journalists. Bankers. Climate change activists. Climate change deniers. Creationists. Evolutionists. Social workers. Home schoolers. Baptists. Anglicans. J K Rowling. The list goes on.</div><div><br /></div><div>The world would be a simpler place if we could just think of everyone as either a goody or a baddy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn famously wrote, "If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being." In the same vein (but not quite as literary high-brow), British comedy actor John Cleese recently <a href="https://twitter.com/JohnCleese/status/1271535485467283457" target="_blank">tweeted</a> a clip of his from 30 years ago in which he says, "the great thing about having enemies is that you can pretend that all the badness in the whole world is in your enemies, and all the goodness in the whole world is in you." </div><div><div><br /></div><div>Both Solzhenitsyn and Cleese are echoing the truth that people are complicated. As image bearers of God, every one of us is able to do good. As people who have rejected God and trampled on his law, every one of us does evil. That is not to say that we are all equal in our degree of goodness or evilness. The line that divides good and evil does not cleave every human heart equally in two. But the history of humanity is a history of complex people. Heroes have flaws. Villains are capable of good deeds. David who killed Goliath was the same David who took another man's wife and had her husband murdered. A towering theologian can hold appalling views (and not just be excused as a 'child of his time').</div><div><br /></div><div>The line dividing good and evil cuts through my heart too. As I look back at Christians of the past and wonder how they could have got some things so very right and other things so terribly wrong, I wonder what a Christian living in fifty, one hundred, two hundred years time would say if they could look back at my life. If they nodded their heads in agreement with my reformed, Baptist theology, what words and actions of mine would cause them to wince? On what issues would they ask how could someone who held to those Biblical principles end up so far from the mark in that particular way?</div></div><div><br /></div><div><div>As our children get older, we're slowly teaching them that while good and evil are real and clear categories, labeling people as good or evil isn't quite so clear cut as they'd like to believe. We're reminding them that in the ultimate good vs evil story, we're the baddies and the only goody is Jesus. And yet we're also baddies who image God and so we can still reflect God's goodness, albeit in a distorted way. </div><div><br /></div><div>And so this is my plea to the adults: resist the caricatures. Recognise that people are complicated. Good and evil swirls together in each of our hearts. It's not that good and evil don't matter. I'm not saying that you should never describe someone as evil. I'm not saying that we should never apply church discipline, call out false teachers or judge that a leader is unfit for church or public office.</div><div><br /></div><div>But we need to be nuanced in our thinking. It's a whole lot easier to view the world through a lens that views individuals (or groups of individuals) as simply goodies or baddies. But good and evil are too important to simply take the easy option. We must be honest about both the failings of people we admire and the good deeds of those we don't. We need to praise the good and we also need to be unequivocal about the bad. We need to be people of truth and integrity.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i>Post script: the following articles have been helpful for me in educating myself and sharpening my thinking on this issue, particularly regarding Christian heroes.</i></div><div><i><a href="https://media.thegospelcoalition.org/static-blogs/justin-taylor/files/2012/02/Thabiti-Jonathan-Edwards-slavery-and-theological-appropriation.pdf" target="_blank">"Jonathan Edwards, Slavery, and the Theology of African-Americans"</a>, Thabiti Anyabwile</i></div><div><i><a href="https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/luthers-jewish-problem/">"Luther's Jewish Problem"</a>, Bernard Howard</i></div><div><i><a href="https://michaelots.com/resource/some-thoughts-about-statues" target="_blank">"Some thoughts about statues..."</a> Michael Ots</i></div><div><i><a href="https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/when-heroes-dont-live-up-to-their-theology/" target="_blank">"When Our Heroes Don't Live Up to Their Theology"</a>, Thomas Kidd</i></div><div><i><a href="https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/how-i-process-the-moral-failures-of-my-historical-heroes/" target="_blank">"How I Process The Moral Failures of My Historical Heroes"</a>, John Piper</i></div><div><br /></div><div><i><br /></i></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-78075860160045650962020-06-03T02:48:00.001-07:002020-06-03T02:48:06.733-07:00Smartphones and a simple changeIt doesn't grab your attention. It was pretty cheap. The children like to play with it so it's been dropped on the floor a couple of times already; if you shake it, you can hear an ominous rattle of some loose parts inside.<div><br /></div><div>A basic digital clock has been hands down my best purchase of the last year. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've been using a mobile phone as my digital clock and alarm since I was a teenager. I'd fumble for it in the night when I woke to check the time. It was often the last thing I checked at night and the first thing I looked at it in the morning. </div><div><br /></div><div>It had some good uses. Sometimes I used the last few minutes before I slept to catch up on my <a href="https://learnscripture.net/" target="_blank"><font color="#3367d6">Bible memorisation</font></a>. Sometimes I started the audio Bible app as soon I woke and let the Word of God flow over me for the first few minutes of my day. But far too often I checked my messages and emails first, followed by the news, followed sometimes by social media or random Internet browsing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've read a lot in these last couple of years about smartphones and <a href="https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/six-ways-your-phone-is-changing-you" target="_blank"><font color="#3367d6">how they are changing us</font></a> and the <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2017/08/a-sitting-phone-gathers-brain-dross/535476/" target="_blank"><font color="#3367d6">distraction they can be</font></a>. I've read how <a href="https://www.challies.com/articles/i-want-to-buy-your-cheapest-phone/" target="_blank"><font color="#3367d6">getting rid of a smartphone temporarily</font></a> or permanently, can be helpful and considered that option, but the reality is that I need my smartphone (or, more precisely, Whatsapp) for life here and for communication with those in my home country. Then I stumbled across <a href="https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/six-wrong-reasons-to-check-your-phone-in-the-morning" target="_blank"><font color="#3367d6">this article</font></a> on wrong reasons to check your phone in the morning and it resonated with me.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I took the simple option and bought a digital alarm clock. I developed a new habit of leaving my phone in another room at night. My digital clock tells me the time. It wakes me up in a morning if I need it to (although with three children under the age of 5, that feature is rarely needed right now). And it does nothing else. I no longer start my day by looking at my phone and then get sucked into messages, emails, news or social media. </div><div><br /></div><div>And the crazy thing is that I've only gained with this change. If I have a few moments to myself before I need to get up in a morning, I get to use them in more spiritually profitable and mentally healthy ways. There have been no negative consequences from delaying checking my messages for an hour or two after I wake and only positive effects from framing my day with the most important things, thinking first of God and then the people he has literally put in front of me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not saying I've got it all sorted. Sometimes I get up early with the baby and grab my phone as soon as I get into the kitchen. Occasionally I forget to leave my phone in a different room. There are also times where, for ministry or family reasons, I need to be able to be contacted in the middle of the night. In those times, I keep my phone in the bedroom, all notifications muted except for incoming calls, and well out of arm's reach.</div><div><br /></div><div>Buying a digital alarm clock sounds incredibly simple. It is incredibly simple! In fact it's so simple that it seems a little ridiculous to be writing a blog post about it. But it turns out simple changes can be some of the most effective. </div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5090411075800304944.post-43915674535304272282020-05-04T11:11:00.001-07:002020-05-04T11:11:24.047-07:00Ten years onI'd like to say that I remember the first time the nine of us met together but I can't find the memory. I have plenty of other memories of the nine of us together to choose from though.<br />
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We were the new Executive Committee of our university's Christian Union (CU). A bunch of eager 19 and 20 year-olds who had the responsibility of leading the CU for the next year. We were all from different tribes of evangelicalism and attended a variety of churches between us. Between us there was (and continues to be) differing views over several 'secondary' theological issues and so there was plenty of potential for disagreements. But we were all united in the fundamentals of the Gospel and committed to helping our fellow Christian students make Christ known at our university.<br />
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That year we organised evangelistic events and talks, encouraged each other and our fellow students to pray, tried to help Christian students to get stuck into local churches, hosted CU meetings and weekends away, supported our small group student leaders and tried to share the Gospel with our own friends. We worked hard together, as well as being involved in our own churches and even managed to fit in some studying for our degrees as well.<br />
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We hadn't chosen each other as friends but had been thrown together by virtue of us all being asked to, and then agreeing, to take on different roles on the 'Exec'. But we spent a lot of time with each other and we grew close that year. We prayed together a lot. We laughed until we cried and sometimes we actually cried. In fact, after we'd finished our official duties and were no longer constrained to spend time together, we voluntarily went away for a few days as a group. I'd been a Christian since I was a fairly young child, but I grew so much that year and a lot of it was due to those people.<br />
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One conversation we had made a strong impression on me. I don't remember the specifics but I do remember the atmosphere becoming serious and the sober looks passed between us. Somehow it had come up in conversation that many people who were professing, active Christians at university slid away from the faith after graduation and during their 20s. Someone might have quoted some statistics about the percentage who fall away - I have no idea how substantiated they were. But we were mature enough to realise that having been CU leaders, dedicated in our Christian service, was no guarantee of continuing on in the faith. I remember the feeling of looking at each other, hoping that we'd prove the genuineness of our faith by keeping going.<br />
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Since then life has moved on and we've lost contact as a group. Some of us have kept in touch with others and, predictably, we've mostly seen each other at weddings. So it was a joy last week to have a ten year virtual reunion via a video call. Eight of us were able to make it, and there was news of the ninth person too. For one evening, we picked up where we'd left off in our friendships as we talked and laughed together. And I could have cried to hear that we are all continuing to follow Jesus.<br />
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As we all shared our different stories of what we've been doing in the last decade and how God has been at work in our lives, God's faithfulness shone through so clearly. There were happy updates of marriage, children, church life, work and house moves. The disappointments and griefs were given space too. They were all a monument to God's goodness.<br />
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This is not to boast in our own staying power though. For one thing, we're all only 30-ish years old! God willing, we have a lot of the race yet to run. Yet much more importantly, it is the Lord who keeps us. I firmly believe that no genuine Christian can fall away from the faith; the God who has called us will bring us safely home.<br />
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It's been a strange and difficult last couple of months. But in the midst of everything going on, I'm so glad that we were able to take a couple of hours to celebrate God's goodness to us. We raised our virtual <a href="https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/here-i-raise-my-ebenezer" target="_blank">Ebenezer</a> and proclaimed that the Lord has helped us this far. And we prayed that God would keep us over the next ten years - and beyond - and finish the good work that he has started in each of us.<br />
<br />Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18345813175810677191noreply@blogger.com