Something From the Mind, Heart...Me.

Random thoughts below...no particular order...no agenda...just sharing what's been bottled up for way too long.

So, it's been quite a while since you've seen a post that was composed of something other than a quoted news article and appropriate link.  And since I plugged the website in our last newsletter it would seem rather disenchanting if the first thing you saw was an article about a very old and very "lost" man being installed as the leader of a very mixed up and self serving religion.  Trust me, the news headlines of Muslims vs Christians in this country are anything but the truth.  For one, they aren't Muslims, and they aren't Christians.

Seriously, everyone we talk to..."So, what do you believe?"  "I'm Muslim."  "Oh, really?  Do you go to the mosque, read the Quran, observe Ramadan?"  "No."  "Why not?"  "I just believe in Islam, because my parents do."

You have no idea how frustrating conversations like this can be.  Frustrating at times, but as they turn and walk away from you, you can't help but smile a little in your spirit...maybe it shows on your face.  You say to your soul, "Don't despair.  One day he, one day she will realize it's not about what mommy and daddy "believes".  It's about what he/she will do when confronted with the truth of their need for a Savior and the fact that there is only one.  Some people are beginning to come to that realization as teenagers, some as middle aged people, and some who don't look like they're going to last too many more winters.  We're seeing a turning of the tide.  Some days it doesn't seem that way, others get your heart racing, but truly, the people are hungry for something, and they've had a steady diet of lies, corruption, everything that doesn't work, everything that leaves them more horribly empty than before, everything that's hopeless, everything that ends.  They're desperate, you can see it, you can sense it.  They still have their pride though, and oh what a crash it will be when that wall finally shatters.  Broken hearts, the perfect medium for our Savior Potter.

It's a funny thing...well...not funny I guess, but a beyond interesting thing when you think about this.  Imagine yourself standing in a vast expanse.  It's pitch black.  You can't see your hand in front of your face.  You think you're standing still, but maybe you're moving because you're bumping into things.  You can't tell anyway because it's so stinkin' dark.  You remember you're carrying a flashlight.  You pull it out, feel for the button, CLICK.  All you see at first are shadows, your eyes quickly look up following the beam of your light, you freeze, CLICK.  You scream to yourself, I'm surrounded by people! Lots and lots of people!  CLICK.  People's eyes begin to turn in your direction.  They begin to walk in your direction.  Light....their souls have never beheld it.  And you're THE bearer of it.  Slowly, more notice....some keep walking, some begin to come closer still.  They've never seen it before, they're curious.  Some curse it, some try to touch it, others simply stand in it, crowds form, crowds disappear.  Spiritually, this is what happens when we go out on the streets of Decan and allow the Light in us, the Light of the world to well...shine on the world.

An old man speaks through the help of a Kosovar believer, "Why are you here?  Why would you leave America to come here?  We all want to go where you came from, and you come here.  It makes no sense.  Why?"  Dude, I'm monitoring a book table...where did that question come from?  I thought you people didn't care about anything...especially the older generation.  Such are the rapid thoughts in my mind as my knee jerk evangelistic response of evangelism kicks in.  You give the obvious answer...the one you know how to give.  It's sweet, it's true, but as he walks away you know it wasn't what you should've said.  You know immediately every word that was meant to come from your lips.  You want to grab the biggest thing near you and tear it from frustration and angst, but the biggest thing is a Bible...not a good idea....someone might want that.  You pray he comes back a third time.  He's already come twice now.  This time was the first time he's spoken to you.  It's time to go home.  It's time to stack the books up, take down the table, put everything back in the church, lock up, and go home.  You look around...watching intently to see if anyone else is going to stop.  You don't want to be the first person in the group to place one stack of books on another.  One by one...it's like you're extinguishing one candle, then another...rather...carrying one candle after another back into the church.  You celebrate the sowing of seed in many hearts that day, you're still perplexed at the man who brought all the books he took back, placing them respectfully back in their appropriate stacks, smiling and walking away, you're briefly haunted by potential missed opportunities.  Will you have another chance at them?  Will you see them again?  Literally, it seems like as you drive away the light goes with you, the masses return to their aimless wandering in the darkness, their eyes fix on you as you're heading down the road.  They always stare...at everyone...but you can't help but think they're looking deeper.  You aren't one of them, you're...AMERICAN.  "We stare at you because seeing you gives us hope, hope to live, hope to continue on."  says one Kosovar.

It's 1am.  I'm tired....to be continued...