I was looking through an old blog today and found an amazing entry. I thought I would share it here. And for the record, I have now been working in Albania for 9 years and this trip is my eighth. Enjoy!
If you ever have been to my office, you know that I have a wall wholly dedicated to pictures from my 5 Albania trips. Today, while working, one of the pictures caught my eye. It was a picture from my second trip (the one with Wil and his parents) of a group of people in a village called Surstan. I have visited this village every time I have been to Albania, and I have grown to know and love the people.
The thing that caught my eye about this picture was a face I had never before noticed in the crowd. I looked closer and realized something amazing. The face I was staring at was one of a person who, today, is a regular Sunday school teacher at Irfan's church. I have gotten to know her over the past 2 years or so. She is a teacher in another village, called Gjenavlage, and I have made a point to visit her and her students on every trip that I can.
I thought I had just met this lady within the past couple of years, but I guess I had met her even before that, on my second trip at the age of 18 (5 years ago), on a bright sunny day in the village of Surstan with Wil and his folks.
As I thought about this, my eyes and my mind drifted to other pictures in the collage. I saw one of Lindita's family before they moved to America. I remember when Wil showed her the pictures of our visit with her family, she asked "Who is that?"... pointing at her little brother Endri who had changed so much in the years she hadn't seen him that she didn't even recognize his face. I thought about how blessed I was to be there in the family's Albanian home when they received the papers that said they would be allowed to move to America. It was quite and experience and a great celebration.
Then I saw one of a bus we rented on my first trip to take people to be baptized in the Adriatic Sea. It was my first time to a beach on a sea or ocean. Is it so hard to believe that the first time I went to the ocean was after I had already flown for hours over one? This was such an amazing experience for me, not just the baptizing, but the whole first trip. I remember the long ride back to the airport to go home, I thought "Wow, I really don't know when I will ever see this place again... or if I ever will..." God knew better.
Well, needless to say I look back now and I am so amazed at the person God has made me. The first time I went to Albania, I was a young clueless teenagaer. Today, I have become a confident minister, I have grown to call these people family and they call me the same, I have a best friend who lives there, and I have my own ministry to the country which people are calling every day to be a part of. I am a blessed person to be able to do what I love every single day.
The last picture I looked at was the one that inspired me to write this. It was one taken of me on my most recent trip last October. I was standing in the church with a young man named Endri, who is Vera's nephew. He has been a pal of mine since day one. When he was little he used to go out to the villages with us every day and hang out at the mission house at night. I looked at that picture of him, now taller than me, and I glanced back over at another picture taken on my first trip. It was one of Endri and I standing in front of the mission house as we were loading up to leave for the airport to catch our flight home. He asked if we could take a picture together.
At that time, Endri only stood about as high as my chest. In the picture, he is wearing a blue and yellow torn up baseball cap that I had brought for myself but ended up giving to him because he liked it so much. He was wearing it all crooked and sideways like a little boy would if he thought he was trying to look really cool.
In comparing these 2 pictures I realized that this isn't just my hobby or some sort of past time, or even something meant to impress others. This is my life. I dreamed as a little girl at the ages of 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, and all the ages in between of going to Albania, preaching the gospel, and doing what I could to help the people who I knew were amazing before I even met them.
Today I am writing a blog, not about a minister who is changing a nation, but about a little girl who is SO lucky to be living her dream every single moment of every single day. I can only hope, pray and work to know that Endri, the little boy in my picture, lives to see his dreams come to pass in a country where people do not even have hope enough to believe in dreams. As we all know, God is faithful, and I believe that Endri and all people who dare to dream, will be blessed enough to live it out to the glory of God for all of their days.
Thank you to all of you who have had a heart for Albania and my vision there. Thank you for your prayers, donations, love and encouragement over the years. I have been there for 6 years (now 9) and I look forward to at least 60 more.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
5/19/2011
This email was sent to me today by the Vice President and National Director of Faith Christian Fellowship. It is referring to the loss of our brother in the Lord, Gary Devoe. Yesterday, Gary suffered a fall in Switzerland while there to minister at FCF's international conference. The injuries he sustained from that fall lead to him passing away. It is a sad experience for the FCF family, and although we know where Gary is today, we ask that you keep his family, the Harrison family and the Faith Christian Fellowship Family in your prayers.
Yesterday I emailed you about the loss of our dear friend and brother, Gary DeVoe. I trust you are being comforted by the Holy Spirit today. The following article that Gary wrote in February 2009 has been a comfort to me this morning, and I trust it will comfort you as well. Let’s allow Gary to minister to us through this difficult time.
Ministering After a Tragedy
By Gary DeVoe
Media Director
Normally I enjoy preaching and jump at the chance to minister the Word. But in October 2003, I had to minister a message at a very difficult time. My wife and I were in Rogers, Arkansas, for some fellowship with FCF pastors and area representatives Buddy and Amy Gastineau.
About midnight on Saturday, the phone rang, and it was Buddy telling me about a tragedy that had just occurred. Orrie, a young boy in the church, had been killed during a Halloween hayride. Understandably, the family was devastated and grieving, and Buddy asked me to minister the following morning. I hung up the phone and asked the Lord, “What could I say that would bring hope, understanding, and healing?” Around 2:00 a.m., He showed me what I had learned from my encounters with death. The message helped that congregation, and I believe it will help you as you minister to your congregation during those difficult times following a tragedy.
Death Comes to Steal Innocence
One summer while in college, I was an intern for a small church in the small town of St. Francis, Kansas. I was still learning how to spell the word pastor; I knew nothing about being one. The pastor went away for ten weeks, and I was it. Then the funeral home called and asked for my help. A family had just lost its wife and mother to cancer and needed somewhere to have the service. I didn’t know any better. I just figured that you were supposed to say “yes” and do it. So I agreed without asking any questions.
Later that day I met the husband and his three little children. I asked about the family’s relationship with Christ, particularly the mother’s relationship with Christ when she passed away. But he didn’t comprehend what I was asking. The family had never set foot inside a church. They were lost. I remember looking in the eyes of those children, and I learned my first lesson about death: Death comes to steal your innocence.
We live in a world that is rampant with fear and sin, and our children are taught from the time that they are little that they must be afraid of everyone and every thing. Yet that is not what God’s Word teaches. The enemy will use death and tragedy to steal children’s innocence. Parents must put their foot down and say, “No, devil, you will not steal my children’s innocence. I bless my children. I pray for them and stand with them. I will sit with them and talk with them. I will protect them.”
In times of tragedy, parents need to hold their children, reassure them, spend time with them, and help them to recognize and realize that Satan never wins, regardless of what circumstances he throws their way. The devil has not won, he will not win, and he cannot win – because he is a defeated foe.
Pastors, encourage your congregation to be there for their children. Train your people how to be godly parents. Don’t just assume that people know because they come to your church or read the Bible. Teach them about God’s plan for the family and the joys and responsibilities of parenthood. Make your children’s ministry a priority.
Death Comes to Steal Our Hope
Many years later after I finished college and had several years experience as a pastor, a second incident happened. His name was Tyler. He was seven years old, had flaming red hair and freckles, and was all boy all the time. Tyler was my best friend at that time because he embodied everything I believed about the goodness and mercy of God. He was innocence personified.
One day I went to visit his parents who were dear friends of mine. We found Tyler in the basement in the process of burning a mattress. When we asked him why he was doing it, he said, “Because it’s here.” That was Tyler’s attitude: Whatever there was to do, he would put his hand to it.
Tyler never slept, never stopped, never slowed down. Then one day, Tyler just stayed in bed. His parents called to tell me that Tyler wasn’t feeling well and hadn’t been out of bed. So we prayed. We thought Tyler needed some sleep because he never slept much or slowed down. About a week later, we took Tyler to the hospital. The diagnosis was an aggressive liver cancer, unstoppable in the natural.
While Tyler was lying in his hospital bed, he taught me a valuable lesson. He was just a few days from being with Jesus. The doctor came into his room and said, “Tyler, I must listen to your heart.”
Tyler lifted his little head off the pillow and asked, “What heart do you want to listen to, Doc?”
The doctor said, “You only have one heart, Tyler.”
“Oh, no,” Tyler said, “I have two hearts. One heart where Jesus lives and one that pumps blood. Which one are you interested in listening to?”
Facing death, this seven year old knew that his hope was Jesus, and Tyler never let go of his hope. Death came to steal hope, but Tyler taught me to keep hoping.
Pastors, teach your people to continue to hope when all reason for hope has gone. Abraham kept hoping when there was no more reason for him to believe that he would have an heir. (Rom. 4:18.) The reason for hope doesn’t lie within our own abilities. The reason for hope is Jesus; He always keeps His Word. He said He overcame; therefore, we overcome. He promised a place for us; therefore, we have a place ready and waiting for us.
Death Comes to Steal Your Joy
In 1991, I moved to Tulsa, a broken and hurting man. Mess that I was, Buddy and Pat Harrison took me. They made me a son and poured their love and wisdom into my life.
Buddy was the father I never had. We love God, and we see God through the eyes of our natural fathers. My natural father was an emotionally mean drunk who always put me down. Consequently, I felt as if I were a loser and a failure. But Buddy Harrison loved me unconditionally, and I could see and understand God the Father through Buddy’s eyes, through the love of an earthly father.
Buddy taught me life’s greatest secret: Life is a choice. He said, “Every day I choose to love Jesus. Every day I choose to serve Him. I choose to believe His word, and I choose to act upon it.” Life is my choice. My life is not dictated by chance or circumstances. It is dictated by my choices.
Then in November 1998, death came again, and I learned that death comes to steal your joy. I was so angry at God, and I was angry at Buddy Harrison for going home to heaven. I hurt for many months.
Then one morning at 3:00 A.M., I sat up in bed, sobbing and crying as loudly as I could, “Why, God? Why, God? Why, God, did he die?” Thank God that He answers the whys in our lives. The sweet quiet voice of the Holy Spirit said, “Gary, Buddy did not live for you. Buddy did not die for you. Buddy was not raised from the dead for you. It was Me. Now honor Buddy for what he taught you, and go do it.” I found out that Buddy was not my joy. Jesus was and is and forever shall be my joy.
Pastors, teach your people who joy is and teach them how to rejoice at all times. Yes, children, spouses, careers, and so on can give a measure of joy. But the deep, abiding joy that sustains us through death and tragedies can only come from the source – Jesus.
Death Comes to Steal Your Faith
I never knew my natural grandfathers. They were dead before I was born. When the Harrisons adopted me, I finally had a spiritual grandfather, Kenneth Hagin. What fun I had being around him!
I particularly liked the times when he would share his experiences. I would listen in rapt attention, realizing that those were God moments. One time in particular stands out in my memory. He, Doc Horton, Alan Jackson, and I were sitting around the dinner table, and Brother Hagin and Doc Horton were reminiscing about the early days of Pentecost when signs and wonders abounded, such as instant healings of entire congregations and supernatural manifestations of the Holy Spirit. The presence of God was so strong at that table. Finally, I summoned the courage and asked, “Why don’t we see those things now?”
Brother Hagin looked at me and said, “Gary, I believe one reason is that we expected it. We went to church, and we expected God to move.” Then he recounted a story about David Dupleis and Smith Wigglesworth, with the point being Smith Wigglesworth’s reverence for God. Smith would get dressed in his finest when he was doing business for God. Then Brother Hagin said, “We don’t reverence God anymore like we used to.”
I cherished those times with Brother Hagin. Then he died in September 2003, and I discovered that death comes to steal your faith. Brother Hagin wasn’t supposed to die. He was supposed to be here for the Rapture. After all, he wasn’t human, was he? Everybody in Word of Faith circles knew that Brother Hagin would never die.
But then I remembered him saying one time, “If you hear I’m gone, you’ll know I was satisfied.” He’s gone because he was satisfied. And I had to stop death from stealing my faith.
Pastors, teach your people how to hold on to their profession of faith. The devil wants to stop our expectation of God’s moving and curtail our reverence for the Lord. Cynicism, bitterness, and doubt must not be allowed to rule. Jesus is still the author and finisher of our faith.
The devil will try to destroy one person in a family so that he can destroy the whole family. And he will use the destruction of one family to destroy a church. His plan is to get the family within the family of God to lose its hope, put away its joy, lay down its passion, and stop preaching the Good News. Pastors, teach your people to stand against the destruction of their innocence, hope, joy, and faith.
God Answers Our Whys
Mark 15:34 records one of Jesus’ statements that He made while hanging on the cross: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?” For years we have preached about Jesus’ experience of being forsaken while hanging on the cross, but we have failed to understand a vital truth. Any time in the ancient script when the first line of a psalm is quoted, it is quoted as referencing the entire psalm. So Jesus wasn’t just expressing His feelings of abandonment. He was quoting the entire Psalm 22.
As you read through the Psalm, you notice that the first twenty verses describe Jesus’ ministry and crucifixion experience. He was ridiculed and rejected by men: “I am a worm and no man; a reproach of men, and despised by the people. All those who see Me ridicule Me; they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, ‘He trusted in the Lord, let Him rescue Him; let Him deliver Him, since He delights in Him!’” (vv. 6-8 NKJV).
Jesus suffered physically: “I am poured out like water, and all My bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it has melted within Me. My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and My tongue clings to My jaws; You have brought Me to the dust of death” (Psalm 22:14-15 NKJV).
Then the later part of verse 22 says, “You have answered Me.” And the rest of the psalm is one of praise and victory. “And all the families of the nations shall worship before You. For the kingdom is the Lord’s and He rules over the nations. All the prosperous the earth shall eat and worship. All those who go down to the dust shall bow before Him, even he who cannot keep himself alive. A posterity shall serve Him. It will be recounted of the Lord to the next generation, they will come and declare His righteousness to a people who will be born, that He has done this” (Psalm 22:27-31 NKJV).
Jesus quoted Psalm 22 not because He was forsaken but because He knew His end. He knew the victory, the joy that was set before Him.
Pastors, God answers our whys not with theology but with theocracy. With His presence. Thus, we must go to God, and we must train our people to go to God.
How We Can Help in the Difficult Times
How can the church help families who have experienced the death of a loved one? In times of great duress and pain, it is often best that we close our mouths and open our arms. The great comfort the church family can give is acts of kindness to show that they have not forgotten nor forsaken. They can fix meals, mow lawns, clean cars or houses, watch the children, or run errands.
Acts of service will speak louder during those times than words will ever speak. Often because we don’t know what to say or do during times of tragedy and grief, we back away. But that is not the time to back away. That is the time to become servants of God and show His love. Thus our communities will be amazed at our ability to galvanize our faith and our consistency in our hope in Christ. Yes, we may lose a person, but we haven’t lost Jesus.
Another important action to take during these times is to pray in the Holy Spirit. We may not know what or how to pray, but He does. That is one reason why Jesus gave us this marvelous gift.
Pastors, it is vital that you contact the family on important dates, such as the date of death, holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries. The devil will often use those days to bring the spirit of grief. Your contact helps the survivors through the rough spots because they know that you remember and that the church cares.
In the Word of Faith circles, some have taught that we don’t grieve. That is nonsense. We experience the feelings of loss and sadness. Grieving is a natural emotional process. But we are not to give into the spirit of grief because that spirit brings hopelessness and depression. Christians should never lose hope, the confident and favorable expectation of the Lord’s working on our behalf, because Jesus is our hope and our joy.
Lastly, remember that victory belongs to us. Death and defeat are not the end.
Let me end with this story. On June 18, 1815, the battle of Waterloo took place. The great English General Wellington commanded an army of British, Dutch, Belgian, and German soldiers to fight against Napoleon’s army. In those days, the armies employed signalmen or flagmen to send messages. These men were stationed throughout the area on the highest points so that the messages could be flashed from one area to the next and so on, until the message had been sent across an entire nation or continent.
As the battle raged and Wellington’s troops surrounded Napoleon’s army, the message flashed across the area until it reached the ship in the harbor. From there the message flashed from ship to ship until it reached England’s shore. At the shore, the signalman climbed the highest point and began his message: “Wellington defeated . . .” and the fog rolled in. Soon the message that Wellington had been defeated was flashed from church steeple to church steeple and from castle to castle across England. The nation was plunged into mourning. Somewhat later when the fog lifted in the harbor, the signalman climbed the highest point again. This time he finished his message: “Wellington defeated the enemy.”
Pastors, when the fog of grief has lifted, victory will come in. On the cross, Jesus appeared to be defeated, but His end was victory. So is ours.
Yesterday I emailed you about the loss of our dear friend and brother, Gary DeVoe. I trust you are being comforted by the Holy Spirit today. The following article that Gary wrote in February 2009 has been a comfort to me this morning, and I trust it will comfort you as well. Let’s allow Gary to minister to us through this difficult time.
Ministering After a Tragedy
By Gary DeVoe
Media Director
Normally I enjoy preaching and jump at the chance to minister the Word. But in October 2003, I had to minister a message at a very difficult time. My wife and I were in Rogers, Arkansas, for some fellowship with FCF pastors and area representatives Buddy and Amy Gastineau.
About midnight on Saturday, the phone rang, and it was Buddy telling me about a tragedy that had just occurred. Orrie, a young boy in the church, had been killed during a Halloween hayride. Understandably, the family was devastated and grieving, and Buddy asked me to minister the following morning. I hung up the phone and asked the Lord, “What could I say that would bring hope, understanding, and healing?” Around 2:00 a.m., He showed me what I had learned from my encounters with death. The message helped that congregation, and I believe it will help you as you minister to your congregation during those difficult times following a tragedy.
Death Comes to Steal Innocence
One summer while in college, I was an intern for a small church in the small town of St. Francis, Kansas. I was still learning how to spell the word pastor; I knew nothing about being one. The pastor went away for ten weeks, and I was it. Then the funeral home called and asked for my help. A family had just lost its wife and mother to cancer and needed somewhere to have the service. I didn’t know any better. I just figured that you were supposed to say “yes” and do it. So I agreed without asking any questions.
Later that day I met the husband and his three little children. I asked about the family’s relationship with Christ, particularly the mother’s relationship with Christ when she passed away. But he didn’t comprehend what I was asking. The family had never set foot inside a church. They were lost. I remember looking in the eyes of those children, and I learned my first lesson about death: Death comes to steal your innocence.
We live in a world that is rampant with fear and sin, and our children are taught from the time that they are little that they must be afraid of everyone and every thing. Yet that is not what God’s Word teaches. The enemy will use death and tragedy to steal children’s innocence. Parents must put their foot down and say, “No, devil, you will not steal my children’s innocence. I bless my children. I pray for them and stand with them. I will sit with them and talk with them. I will protect them.”
In times of tragedy, parents need to hold their children, reassure them, spend time with them, and help them to recognize and realize that Satan never wins, regardless of what circumstances he throws their way. The devil has not won, he will not win, and he cannot win – because he is a defeated foe.
Pastors, encourage your congregation to be there for their children. Train your people how to be godly parents. Don’t just assume that people know because they come to your church or read the Bible. Teach them about God’s plan for the family and the joys and responsibilities of parenthood. Make your children’s ministry a priority.
Death Comes to Steal Our Hope
Many years later after I finished college and had several years experience as a pastor, a second incident happened. His name was Tyler. He was seven years old, had flaming red hair and freckles, and was all boy all the time. Tyler was my best friend at that time because he embodied everything I believed about the goodness and mercy of God. He was innocence personified.
One day I went to visit his parents who were dear friends of mine. We found Tyler in the basement in the process of burning a mattress. When we asked him why he was doing it, he said, “Because it’s here.” That was Tyler’s attitude: Whatever there was to do, he would put his hand to it.
Tyler never slept, never stopped, never slowed down. Then one day, Tyler just stayed in bed. His parents called to tell me that Tyler wasn’t feeling well and hadn’t been out of bed. So we prayed. We thought Tyler needed some sleep because he never slept much or slowed down. About a week later, we took Tyler to the hospital. The diagnosis was an aggressive liver cancer, unstoppable in the natural.
While Tyler was lying in his hospital bed, he taught me a valuable lesson. He was just a few days from being with Jesus. The doctor came into his room and said, “Tyler, I must listen to your heart.”
Tyler lifted his little head off the pillow and asked, “What heart do you want to listen to, Doc?”
The doctor said, “You only have one heart, Tyler.”
“Oh, no,” Tyler said, “I have two hearts. One heart where Jesus lives and one that pumps blood. Which one are you interested in listening to?”
Facing death, this seven year old knew that his hope was Jesus, and Tyler never let go of his hope. Death came to steal hope, but Tyler taught me to keep hoping.
Pastors, teach your people to continue to hope when all reason for hope has gone. Abraham kept hoping when there was no more reason for him to believe that he would have an heir. (Rom. 4:18.) The reason for hope doesn’t lie within our own abilities. The reason for hope is Jesus; He always keeps His Word. He said He overcame; therefore, we overcome. He promised a place for us; therefore, we have a place ready and waiting for us.
Death Comes to Steal Your Joy
In 1991, I moved to Tulsa, a broken and hurting man. Mess that I was, Buddy and Pat Harrison took me. They made me a son and poured their love and wisdom into my life.
Buddy was the father I never had. We love God, and we see God through the eyes of our natural fathers. My natural father was an emotionally mean drunk who always put me down. Consequently, I felt as if I were a loser and a failure. But Buddy Harrison loved me unconditionally, and I could see and understand God the Father through Buddy’s eyes, through the love of an earthly father.
Buddy taught me life’s greatest secret: Life is a choice. He said, “Every day I choose to love Jesus. Every day I choose to serve Him. I choose to believe His word, and I choose to act upon it.” Life is my choice. My life is not dictated by chance or circumstances. It is dictated by my choices.
Then in November 1998, death came again, and I learned that death comes to steal your joy. I was so angry at God, and I was angry at Buddy Harrison for going home to heaven. I hurt for many months.
Then one morning at 3:00 A.M., I sat up in bed, sobbing and crying as loudly as I could, “Why, God? Why, God? Why, God, did he die?” Thank God that He answers the whys in our lives. The sweet quiet voice of the Holy Spirit said, “Gary, Buddy did not live for you. Buddy did not die for you. Buddy was not raised from the dead for you. It was Me. Now honor Buddy for what he taught you, and go do it.” I found out that Buddy was not my joy. Jesus was and is and forever shall be my joy.
Pastors, teach your people who joy is and teach them how to rejoice at all times. Yes, children, spouses, careers, and so on can give a measure of joy. But the deep, abiding joy that sustains us through death and tragedies can only come from the source – Jesus.
Death Comes to Steal Your Faith
I never knew my natural grandfathers. They were dead before I was born. When the Harrisons adopted me, I finally had a spiritual grandfather, Kenneth Hagin. What fun I had being around him!
I particularly liked the times when he would share his experiences. I would listen in rapt attention, realizing that those were God moments. One time in particular stands out in my memory. He, Doc Horton, Alan Jackson, and I were sitting around the dinner table, and Brother Hagin and Doc Horton were reminiscing about the early days of Pentecost when signs and wonders abounded, such as instant healings of entire congregations and supernatural manifestations of the Holy Spirit. The presence of God was so strong at that table. Finally, I summoned the courage and asked, “Why don’t we see those things now?”
Brother Hagin looked at me and said, “Gary, I believe one reason is that we expected it. We went to church, and we expected God to move.” Then he recounted a story about David Dupleis and Smith Wigglesworth, with the point being Smith Wigglesworth’s reverence for God. Smith would get dressed in his finest when he was doing business for God. Then Brother Hagin said, “We don’t reverence God anymore like we used to.”
I cherished those times with Brother Hagin. Then he died in September 2003, and I discovered that death comes to steal your faith. Brother Hagin wasn’t supposed to die. He was supposed to be here for the Rapture. After all, he wasn’t human, was he? Everybody in Word of Faith circles knew that Brother Hagin would never die.
But then I remembered him saying one time, “If you hear I’m gone, you’ll know I was satisfied.” He’s gone because he was satisfied. And I had to stop death from stealing my faith.
Pastors, teach your people how to hold on to their profession of faith. The devil wants to stop our expectation of God’s moving and curtail our reverence for the Lord. Cynicism, bitterness, and doubt must not be allowed to rule. Jesus is still the author and finisher of our faith.
The devil will try to destroy one person in a family so that he can destroy the whole family. And he will use the destruction of one family to destroy a church. His plan is to get the family within the family of God to lose its hope, put away its joy, lay down its passion, and stop preaching the Good News. Pastors, teach your people to stand against the destruction of their innocence, hope, joy, and faith.
God Answers Our Whys
Mark 15:34 records one of Jesus’ statements that He made while hanging on the cross: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?” For years we have preached about Jesus’ experience of being forsaken while hanging on the cross, but we have failed to understand a vital truth. Any time in the ancient script when the first line of a psalm is quoted, it is quoted as referencing the entire psalm. So Jesus wasn’t just expressing His feelings of abandonment. He was quoting the entire Psalm 22.
As you read through the Psalm, you notice that the first twenty verses describe Jesus’ ministry and crucifixion experience. He was ridiculed and rejected by men: “I am a worm and no man; a reproach of men, and despised by the people. All those who see Me ridicule Me; they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, ‘He trusted in the Lord, let Him rescue Him; let Him deliver Him, since He delights in Him!’” (vv. 6-8 NKJV).
Jesus suffered physically: “I am poured out like water, and all My bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it has melted within Me. My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and My tongue clings to My jaws; You have brought Me to the dust of death” (Psalm 22:14-15 NKJV).
Then the later part of verse 22 says, “You have answered Me.” And the rest of the psalm is one of praise and victory. “And all the families of the nations shall worship before You. For the kingdom is the Lord’s and He rules over the nations. All the prosperous the earth shall eat and worship. All those who go down to the dust shall bow before Him, even he who cannot keep himself alive. A posterity shall serve Him. It will be recounted of the Lord to the next generation, they will come and declare His righteousness to a people who will be born, that He has done this” (Psalm 22:27-31 NKJV).
Jesus quoted Psalm 22 not because He was forsaken but because He knew His end. He knew the victory, the joy that was set before Him.
Pastors, God answers our whys not with theology but with theocracy. With His presence. Thus, we must go to God, and we must train our people to go to God.
How We Can Help in the Difficult Times
How can the church help families who have experienced the death of a loved one? In times of great duress and pain, it is often best that we close our mouths and open our arms. The great comfort the church family can give is acts of kindness to show that they have not forgotten nor forsaken. They can fix meals, mow lawns, clean cars or houses, watch the children, or run errands.
Acts of service will speak louder during those times than words will ever speak. Often because we don’t know what to say or do during times of tragedy and grief, we back away. But that is not the time to back away. That is the time to become servants of God and show His love. Thus our communities will be amazed at our ability to galvanize our faith and our consistency in our hope in Christ. Yes, we may lose a person, but we haven’t lost Jesus.
Another important action to take during these times is to pray in the Holy Spirit. We may not know what or how to pray, but He does. That is one reason why Jesus gave us this marvelous gift.
Pastors, it is vital that you contact the family on important dates, such as the date of death, holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries. The devil will often use those days to bring the spirit of grief. Your contact helps the survivors through the rough spots because they know that you remember and that the church cares.
In the Word of Faith circles, some have taught that we don’t grieve. That is nonsense. We experience the feelings of loss and sadness. Grieving is a natural emotional process. But we are not to give into the spirit of grief because that spirit brings hopelessness and depression. Christians should never lose hope, the confident and favorable expectation of the Lord’s working on our behalf, because Jesus is our hope and our joy.
Lastly, remember that victory belongs to us. Death and defeat are not the end.
Let me end with this story. On June 18, 1815, the battle of Waterloo took place. The great English General Wellington commanded an army of British, Dutch, Belgian, and German soldiers to fight against Napoleon’s army. In those days, the armies employed signalmen or flagmen to send messages. These men were stationed throughout the area on the highest points so that the messages could be flashed from one area to the next and so on, until the message had been sent across an entire nation or continent.
As the battle raged and Wellington’s troops surrounded Napoleon’s army, the message flashed across the area until it reached the ship in the harbor. From there the message flashed from ship to ship until it reached England’s shore. At the shore, the signalman climbed the highest point and began his message: “Wellington defeated . . .” and the fog rolled in. Soon the message that Wellington had been defeated was flashed from church steeple to church steeple and from castle to castle across England. The nation was plunged into mourning. Somewhat later when the fog lifted in the harbor, the signalman climbed the highest point again. This time he finished his message: “Wellington defeated the enemy.”
Pastors, when the fog of grief has lifted, victory will come in. On the cross, Jesus appeared to be defeated, but His end was victory. So is ours.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
A Day In My Albanian Life (5-18-2011)
Almost two months ago I set out on a journey that I was sure would change my life, I just didn't know exactly how. I have been to Albania many times before, but have never stayed more than a month, and even that was only one time. Most trips were 10-14 days and then I went back home. To "normal" living. Back to everything I am well adjusted to.
I think we all realize that the life of a missionary can be difficult, but we may not always be able to directly identify what exactly makes it so challenging. Every day has its surprises, both great and not so great. Every day is a challenge. Learning to communicate in a place where you speak little of the local language and where customs and traditions that are a must in local lives are completely odd and unsorted to a new missionary.
I would tell you what I do on any ordinary day here, but really, no day is the same and no day is ordinary. Most of the time I wake up around between 7-9 depending on what I need to do that day. I might shower (IF we have running water at that time), or get dressed and pack my computer and cameras into my little backpack.
If I am going to the church that day, I will walk about two blocks to the bus stop and catch the bus to the other side of town. I will wait with people at the bus stop who I cannot communicate with other than to greet them or to say "God bless you". When the bus finally arrives, I will jump on and hope to get a seat so that I do not have to stand the whole way on a jerky stop-and-go ride across town. Normally I am blessed enough to find a seat, but a few times I have stood. There is a man who works on the bus who will come up to me and hand me a ticket, and for that I will hand him 30 LEK (about 30 cents US). Then I am off, through the town of Elbasan, over the Shkumbini river and to the little village where the church is.
I really enjoy arriving at the church and greeting the 15 or so young children who attend our kindergarten. They always run out into the hall and great me with a shout, "Julie, Julie!!!". I catch them all in a hug and they always try to give me "high fives". We always have high five competitions to see who is shume forte, or very strong. I always leave with red, sore hands but the kids will have smiles on their faces. I then venture down the hall of the church to help Mama Vera cook lunch for the kids. Some of the kids in the kindergarten will only get the one meal a day, so we try to make sure it is nutritious and filling. I will help Vera finish up whatever she may be cooking and then we will wheel the table into the classroom and serve lunch. The kids devour it every time. Nothing is more rewarding than seeing them smiling and full.
After that I will leave the church and head home. So, I will go stand at the bus stop again and wait. Normally the bus comes at the :20 and :50 minute of every hour, but if I have somehow miscalculated the time I might miss the bus and end up standing there for half an hour. This has only happened a couple times =).
On the way home, I may decide to stop at the market. Cooking has been a chore for me to relearn. At home I never realized how reliant I was on prepared meals. If it wasn't something I could quickly make, then I didn't bother with it. Here in Elbasan, we make everything from scratch. So, stopping in the market I might pick up things like fresh fruits and vegetables, cheese, eggs, flour, sugar, water, juice, milk, etc. I have to be careful though, to only buy what I can carry home. No huge purchases that will last for two weeks. Only what will fit in 2-4 grocery bags that I can walk home with.
Before leaving, I will pay the for my purchases. The clerk/shop keeper will tell me what I owe them in OLD Albania money and then in my mind I have to convert that to what I owe them in the new Albanian money, since that is what is currently used. I do not know why they do this. Maybe just to make it more difficult for newbies like me. I will take my change and my bags and say "Mirupafshim" or "Goodbye". I might even say "Zoti ju bekoft" or "God bless you". Then I walk my two blocks or so home and begin to figure out what to do with the rest of my day.
Normally I would clean the house during this time and catch up on laundry, but if there is no running water at that moment (since it goes on and off throughout the day) then I will have to find something else to do. I might go upstairs and visit my neighbors, who are a family of 5. The lady of the house is from Scotland and her husband is from the Caribbean. They met and married in Albania as missionaries. So, I might go have a cup of coffee with them, or watch their kids while they get some things done in town. In the evenings Kerri (my roommate) and I like to play dominoes with the upstairs missionaries.
Such is my life in Albania right now. I am working for the church as I can, building the youth group as I can. With school about to finish our youth activities will blossom in the coming months. It will be a great time of fellowship. I am studying hard every day to learn the language and hope that I will be able to communicate with the teens without much translation as soon as possible. Such is the life of a missionary.
Thanks for reading!
Julie
I think we all realize that the life of a missionary can be difficult, but we may not always be able to directly identify what exactly makes it so challenging. Every day has its surprises, both great and not so great. Every day is a challenge. Learning to communicate in a place where you speak little of the local language and where customs and traditions that are a must in local lives are completely odd and unsorted to a new missionary.
I would tell you what I do on any ordinary day here, but really, no day is the same and no day is ordinary. Most of the time I wake up around between 7-9 depending on what I need to do that day. I might shower (IF we have running water at that time), or get dressed and pack my computer and cameras into my little backpack.
If I am going to the church that day, I will walk about two blocks to the bus stop and catch the bus to the other side of town. I will wait with people at the bus stop who I cannot communicate with other than to greet them or to say "God bless you". When the bus finally arrives, I will jump on and hope to get a seat so that I do not have to stand the whole way on a jerky stop-and-go ride across town. Normally I am blessed enough to find a seat, but a few times I have stood. There is a man who works on the bus who will come up to me and hand me a ticket, and for that I will hand him 30 LEK (about 30 cents US). Then I am off, through the town of Elbasan, over the Shkumbini river and to the little village where the church is.
I really enjoy arriving at the church and greeting the 15 or so young children who attend our kindergarten. They always run out into the hall and great me with a shout, "Julie, Julie!!!". I catch them all in a hug and they always try to give me "high fives". We always have high five competitions to see who is shume forte, or very strong. I always leave with red, sore hands but the kids will have smiles on their faces. I then venture down the hall of the church to help Mama Vera cook lunch for the kids. Some of the kids in the kindergarten will only get the one meal a day, so we try to make sure it is nutritious and filling. I will help Vera finish up whatever she may be cooking and then we will wheel the table into the classroom and serve lunch. The kids devour it every time. Nothing is more rewarding than seeing them smiling and full.
After that I will leave the church and head home. So, I will go stand at the bus stop again and wait. Normally the bus comes at the :20 and :50 minute of every hour, but if I have somehow miscalculated the time I might miss the bus and end up standing there for half an hour. This has only happened a couple times =).
On the way home, I may decide to stop at the market. Cooking has been a chore for me to relearn. At home I never realized how reliant I was on prepared meals. If it wasn't something I could quickly make, then I didn't bother with it. Here in Elbasan, we make everything from scratch. So, stopping in the market I might pick up things like fresh fruits and vegetables, cheese, eggs, flour, sugar, water, juice, milk, etc. I have to be careful though, to only buy what I can carry home. No huge purchases that will last for two weeks. Only what will fit in 2-4 grocery bags that I can walk home with.
Before leaving, I will pay the for my purchases. The clerk/shop keeper will tell me what I owe them in OLD Albania money and then in my mind I have to convert that to what I owe them in the new Albanian money, since that is what is currently used. I do not know why they do this. Maybe just to make it more difficult for newbies like me. I will take my change and my bags and say "Mirupafshim" or "Goodbye". I might even say "Zoti ju bekoft" or "God bless you". Then I walk my two blocks or so home and begin to figure out what to do with the rest of my day.
Normally I would clean the house during this time and catch up on laundry, but if there is no running water at that moment (since it goes on and off throughout the day) then I will have to find something else to do. I might go upstairs and visit my neighbors, who are a family of 5. The lady of the house is from Scotland and her husband is from the Caribbean. They met and married in Albania as missionaries. So, I might go have a cup of coffee with them, or watch their kids while they get some things done in town. In the evenings Kerri (my roommate) and I like to play dominoes with the upstairs missionaries.
Such is my life in Albania right now. I am working for the church as I can, building the youth group as I can. With school about to finish our youth activities will blossom in the coming months. It will be a great time of fellowship. I am studying hard every day to learn the language and hope that I will be able to communicate with the teens without much translation as soon as possible. Such is the life of a missionary.
Thanks for reading!
Julie
Monday, May 2, 2011
5/2/2011
Yesterday the news was broke that Osama Bin Laden has been killed. There are many rumors about this regarding exactly when it happened and whether or not it is even true. The fact remains that President Barack Obama has seen this come to pass under his term of leadership, even though the work may have been done by others. My question is this:
Do you think Barack Obama will serve an elected second term as President of The United States of America? Please speak your thoughts on this and explain why you believe what you do regarding our current president. Thanks!
Do you think Barack Obama will serve an elected second term as President of The United States of America? Please speak your thoughts on this and explain why you believe what you do regarding our current president. Thanks!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)