Brazil Servant Team 2010

I have been nearly silent on this blog for the last couple years but I would now like to announce the grand re-opening of unconventionalwisdom at blogger. That's right, my voice will once again be recorded on this site regularly. So get ready to hear about some awesome adventures.
July 6th I accepted an invitation to join the Brazil Servant Team with Word Made Flesh in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil from August 17-December 17th. That means I have a lot of preparations and not a lot of time. So far I have applied for a VISA though I haven't received any indicator yet that said VISA has been granted. I have tried to find a plan for managing student loans, car and credit card bills while away and unemployed. And lastly, I'm trying to make a plan for fund-raising.

Fund-raising is not that difficult but it does take some planning. For instance, I have had a list of places to call to see if any restaurants or bars could help with setting up parties where proceeds would go to Word Made Flesh. I have a support letter drafted but not yet finalized or distributed. I have plans to make little cards with my information and address for funds and care packages. Mentioned today was the idea of having a car wash...if you know anyone who could help to arrange this let me know.

I am going to post my support letter here and begin over the next two days to email it out to see what kind of initial response I am getting. Please send ideas and encouragement this way because planning to leave the country for four months as an adult (rather than as a student) is a bit challenging. Perhaps it would be more difficult if I had a house, kids, spouse, but one reason I don't have those things is because I want to be available to serve in the places God opens the door to, not excluding my backyard or the other side of the world.

Support letter, draft 1:

Oi Amigos e Familia,

Many of you may know that I moved back to the Wheaton, IL area in March 2009 and have been working as much as possible in hopes of being able to return to Brazil. I am excited to announce that the invitation to return has been extended and I will be returning to Rio de Janeiro this August.

Once again, I will be working with Word Made Flesh. They are an ecumenical community of Christians working and living among the most vulnerable of the world’s poor. The Word Made Flesh community in Rio targets women and children living in the favelas (shanty towns). “Our witness to the hope and transformation Christ brings is offered through ministries among the excluded and marginalized, especially children living on the streets. Our ministries include mentoring and modeling relationships, education and recreation programs, partnerships with local ministries and supporting the local church’s mission to be a light to the community and the world” (an excerpt from the Brazil vision statement).

This trip will be a time of intense exposure to one of the world’s poorest population. In the context of a dying world (both physically and spiritually), our team will be seeking God’s heart for the poor and how He would have us respond to the suffering of this world.

Many of you might be willing to go and serve alongside us if it were not for other responsibilities in your lives. So, I want to stress the important role you play back home. By giving financially and supporting me with your prayers, you are allowing families to be fed, clothed, and loved. No gift is too small. I cannot do this without your support, and Word Mad Flesh would not exist if it were not for the gifts of supporting people back home. I urge you to prayerfully consider what God has called you to give and partner with me as we follow His call.

I am responsible for raising $5200 by September 1. Already I have received

$1516. Above the program costs I am trying to raise additional funds to use to bless the missions community in Rio so they can continue to bless their neighbors ($650) and continue to make payments on my students loans while unemployed ($650). If you feel like God has called you to serve with financial gifts you can send checks to the Word Made Flesh office in Omaha (address on the next page) or to me personally. Please do not write my name in the memo line but do write my name on a separate paper attached to the check.

As I said, no gift is too small. To know that you are mindful of those serving among the poor is very encouraging to us. Please be prayerful of our travels, expenses, and that God would impart to us wisdom and sensitivity to His Spirit. Care packages can be sent to address on the back of this page. We always enjoy American junk food (not excluding Jiff peanut butter). Thank you for your time and concern. I look forward to sharing with you all that God will accomplish in the months to come!

Shalom,

Jen Pare

Addresses for sending support:

Word Made Flesh

P.O. Box 70

Omaha, NE 68101

Jen Pare

859 E Lawrence Ave

West Chicago, IL 60185

*before Aug 15

6012 73rd Street

Lubbock, TX 79424

*after Aug 15

Please post a comment or email me if you want my address in Brazil for sending letters or care packages.

Thanks for reading. Looking forward to your advice/suggestions/support!

Reaching Out

"In our world full of strangers, estranged from their own past, culture and country, from their neighbors, friends and family, from their deepest self and their God, we witness a painful search for a hospitable place where life can be lived without fear and where community can be found. Although many, we might even say most, strangers in this world become easily the victim of a fearful hostility, it is possible for men and women and obligatory for Christians to offer an open and hospitable space where strangers can cast off their strangeness and become our fellow human beings. The movement from hostility to hospitality is hard and full of difficulties. Our society seems to be increasingly full of fearful, defensive, aggressive people anxiously clinging to their property and inclined to look at their surrounding world with suspicion, always expecting and enemy to suddenly appear, intrude and do harm. But still--that is our vocation: to convert the hostis into a hospes, the enemy into a guest and to create the free and fearless space where brotherhood and sisterhood can be formed and fully experienced."
-quoted from "Reaching Out: The three movements of the Spiritual Live" by Henri J. M. Nouwen

normal or uncommon

There is a quote I found recently that states, "Perhaps, there is no more dangerous place for a Christian to be then in safety and comfort, detached from the suffering of others." This quote was attributed to Shane Claiborne's mom in "Jesus for President." I love it because it seems SO true.

I'm in a place of limbo. I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing. I've arrived at a career that I love at a place that I love. I love where I live (the apartment, not the city) and how I feel right now. I can make payments on loans and I can handle this. But as much as I feel like I'm doing what I want to be doing I recognize equally that I'm not doing what I want and I'm not where I ultimately want to be. This is good for now, this is easy and it's comfortable. And I'm tempted, sometimes, to ask for more time here. To be responsible and pay off my college loans on my own, little by little. I'm especially tempted at times to make compromises of my intended vocation in order to settle down a bit. Have a real life with real people instead of the unending transient existence.

But today, again, I chose to take the lonely uncommon path to be single and to pursue another lifestyle. I felt a little like I could relate to the story where Jesus had to say to Paul, "Get behind me, Satan" because it was oh so tempting to change the trajectory of my life to follow a person I have loved dearly. But God, it seems, has uncommon intentions for my life. So I kept my impulses at bay and bravely stood my ground as an easier life beckoned for me to accept. I may be insignificant and frail but an easy, comfortable, common life does not belong to me. Hopefully, I will continue to persevere and accept my vocation.

I am running again. This is uncomfortable and proves to be a great exercise of discipline and perseverance. I intend to run a 4 mile race this Saturday and if the next week of endurance runs (up to 8 miles) goes well, for Christmas I will enter myself in the Austin 1/2 marathon and the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon. I will begin an 18 week training regimen Christmas week. And perhaps this go-round I'll blog more about my experiences running.

For me, running is a blessing. I believe that I shouldn't be able to run, but I do because it represents a tangible process of sanctification. I feel myself being conquered and reformed. I feel myself surrendering to my frailty and pushing beyond what I should be able to do and this makes me rejoice and find renewed strength. I love to run. Running is prayer.

Now What?

I again return to mirror the patterns of the boomerang generation of which I belong. Meaning, I'm inhabiting the room where I lived for 13 years of my childhood just a few yards from the room where my parents sleep. Yup, I'm living under my parents roof again. Why am I here I wonder? I don't have a job. I've been surviving with my back and it seems to be healing on its own without medical attention. I don't have more then two friends here it seems. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't have an immediate plan. Sure I have my more long-term plan in place. I know where I want to go, who I want to work with. I have my application all in order and communications beginning in that department but even that has been put on hold and outside of my control.

So what am I doing with myself now that I have finally come to a place in life where I have no responsibilities (oh I still have financial responsibilities but that's a bit different then taking care of kids or classes)? At this very moment I find myself sitting in a chair where I've sat many times before at the most chic/trendy coffee shop in this medium-sized college town where I was raised being bombarded by noise from a local jazz band. The music isn't bad, I just had come here for respite from the confusion of home only to be met by a bad too loud for this small venue and lots of college kids some of whom I vaguely recognize talking about the boys now at LCU and what they are doing and what kinds of guys they want to date and what types of weddings they want and all the things that sound completely ridiculous to me now. No, I don't think I'm too good for these conversations, honestly I think I'm just lonely and out of my element.

How does a person become a foreigner in their hometown anyway? I've only been away for just over two years. But my personal culture and world-view began to change long before I moved away. I knew from a very young age that I wanted to move away. In elementary school I knew I wanted to move to Colorado or someplace beautiful like that to enjoy the mountains and be secluded from all kinds of people. But as I grew up I never became the homebody-type that would enjoy living in solitude in the mountains. In high school my identity began to change in such a way that I felt distanced from people and like I couldn't be understood. My experiences were unique but so are the experiences of every other person who has ever lived. These things perhaps I didn't so much recognize at that age like I do now at least a little bit better. Either way, I was free after that point to develop understandings and beliefs somewhat independent from my peers. Peer pressure was an issue for me in many ways but at the same time, my identity was not completely dependent on what others thought of me or how well liked I was. What a blessing it was to have that stability going through college. Those were formative years for me especially as I traveled to far off places like China and took epic adventures with friends into New Mexico.

After three years of college I finally moved from my hometown not to the mountainous lands of Colorado but instead deep into the mid-west, the great windy city (less windy then Lubbock) Chicago. The Wheaton grad school attracted people from all over the world like Russia, China, India, Rwanda, Australia, Togo, Bolivia, Uruguay, Peru, and from every corner of the US. Those of us from the US were interested in being scattered to the far reaches of the world also. What a beautiful place to fellowship and grow. I am so grateful for this time of training among so many diverse and yet similarly-minded followers of Christ. What each of us had in common was a desire to glorify God completely with our lives wherever He may choose to send us or return us. I have never been understood so well or when my opinions where different from those I was around I have never been so well listened to and respected.

And from that nurturing environment I have returned home. Now what?

death and humilty

June 21, 2008
Shawnee, KS
I’ve not been contributing very much or very deeply to my blog in a very long time and earlier today I felt the urge to give it a try so we will see what comes out in this computer session as I drink my orange cream slush from sonic and sit at the dinning room table at the pastor’s house from the church who is hosting YouthWorks! in Kansas City. This weekend we are sleeping in real beds instead of our usual air mattresses and taking showers when we want and we even have access to washer and dryer and TV and real couches. What a wonderful weekend it has been. The carpet feels so good on our bare feet and the atmosphere of being in a real house instead of a shared space is wonderful. Don’t get me wrong, the church where we live is wonderful also, but there are some comforts at home that we still enjoy. Not personally paying rent, utilities, food, and all those other things is also wonderful but our arrangements have other costs. Like working 24/5 ½ (meaning 24 hours a day for 5 and ½ days strait without a break). And even on the weekends we have some constraints, it’s not like we can just resume normal life entirely. And all these things are okay. I like my job. It’s tough but it’s good. What does suffering produce? Perseverance. And what does perseverance produce? Hope that does not fail us. I’ve reached the realization of perseverance at this point but I’m still working towards hope.
Let me take a moment to explain a bit about what I’m doing. For those who are just looking for ways to waste their lives away on the Internet, check out youthworks.com. For others who just want a quick description, I work for YouthWorks!, inc. and they are a missions organization that exists to provide Christ-centered, transformational mission experiences for teenagers. I am the Site Director for their new Kansas City site. We are located in Westport, the Volker neighborhood at a wonderfully hospitable (as evidenced by the pastor letting us use their house) Lutheran church. Each Sunday evening 50-75 youth show up and we keep them until Friday morning doing service type projects, worshiping, eating, sleeping, and seeing various parts of the city. Some of the places we send them are Kansas City Rescue Mission, Northland Neighborhoods, Metro Lutheran Services, Catholic Charities, Operation Breakthrough, Mission Adelante, Clara Manor Nursing Home, Harvesters, Kansas City Community Gardens, and others. Ask if you have more questions about what we do. Now back to my story.
On May 24th I ran a marathon. I felt on top of the world. Moving to a new place (I love traveling and the idea of new starts) and starting a new job had me very excited but at the same time a bit mournful of loosing the community I had built up while attending grad school in Wheaton, IL. I had not expected to grow so close to so many people in such a short time. But the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. And this was one of those times. Running the marathon seemed to be proving to myself that I could do anything I set my mind to. Originally I had seen running distance as something I could only accomplish through the aid of God. I didn’t think I would ever have the strength to complete such a thing on my own and during all my training runs I heavily relied on prayer and meditation on the supplication of God but during the marathon no such meditation took place. I ran all 26.2 of those miles by my own determination. I couldn’t focus on God with all those people running around me. I had a couple wonderful conversations along the way that were the main source of my fuel. And afterwards I felt better that if I had just run 9 or 10 miles. I was still jumping around. I could have turned around and run another ½ marathon at least. It was a wonderful feeling of power and accomplishment. Except that I had done it all on my own and I realized that right away. And I wasn’t as ecstatic about my run because I couldn’t appreciate God’s companionship along the way. I couldn’t reflect on mile 8 when God showed me the bay and sent the breeze and whispered gently into my ear all the wonderful ways he created me and the beauty he created in this place. Instead all I remember is being bored and strong on my own.
At RAMP (the YouthWorks! training week in Minneapolis) I remember praying for death again and I know I have not written the promised blog about why I meditate on death and what that means to me but I’ll summarize that now. When I ran 15, 18, and 20 mile training runs I would meditate on death. Death of the sort that baptism represents as well as the death I survived during my bleak and painful high school years. I learned years ago that my life would have no significance if lived outside of the will of God. Though not knowing exactly what it would mean to live according to God’s will, I knew that I had to die to my whims, my desires, and my ambitions. Instead I had to learn what God desired of his followers. I had to learn what it would mean to allow God to transform me and begin the process of perfection. And as I figured bits of this out I learned that the life where I choose yes to God and no to my ambitions was so much more wonderful and exciting then I could have ever envisioned for myself. Years later I have learned to pray that I die so that Christ can live through my body, that I can more and more fully be a body that Christ uses in this world to spread love and peace and advance his kingdom. But it’s hard to live like that all the time. There are lots of times where I would rather just look out for myself and use my money the way I want to or my time the way that would be most comfortable for me. But I desire above anything else to be completely God’s instrument.
Back to RAMP, I was praying to be set back on this path of being God’s servant and all and was feeling myself slip more and more into selfish decisions and was very frustrated about where my mind was during the marathon. On Thursday morning I was reflecting on how I was leading my new staff team and wrote in my journal these words, “Lord, break me down. Teach me humility. I choose to die to myself and be a life for you today. Make my body your instrument of love and peace. Work your will through my life. Transform my staff and myself. Today I choose death. Show me how to live.” Before I move on to the next exciting part of the story I want to jump back to February or sometime around there. We were playing with sticky sticks or whatever they are called (colorful sticky wand-like things that you can affix to stuff) in my Holy Spirit and mission class and we were supposed to design them in a way that reflected the way we saw the Holy Spirit involved in our lives. I created a girl running and this wind like thing that was all around but never intersected with the running girl. Basically I described it as myself running both physically and metaphorically and not actually feeling God involved with any of it. In years past I have felt very close to God but since this fall while I Rio I have not had that close communion with God that I used to enjoy and even rely on.
Back to that day at RAMP. In a matter of hours after writing that prayer I found myself in a lot of pain. I went to the bathroom then couldn’t really stand up off the toilet. Somehow I pulled myself up along the wall and slowly pulled myself out of that awkward position into a more heavily trafficked room where I was spotted by a couple people digging a dinosaur out of a clay egg. So they sat in the hallway with me for a while digging the dino out and that kept me company while I tried to figure out what to do with my pathetic self. After a while I had an informal meeting with one of the regional directors about potential ministry sites. She witnessed this miserable situation and didn’t have a whole lot of advice to offer. So I called the parents and other trusted friends who knew of my previous back disaster day 4 in Rio de Janeiro. Basically the same thing happed there. Just couldn’t stand up any more. Hurt, a lot.
So I went to the hospital and God rendered me helpless for the next week or so. Couldn’t walk much, couldn’t lift nothin’, couldn’t really do my job. I felt pathetic, miserable, frustrated. Humbled. I began to see God intervening, answering my prayer. I am still acting very selfish in my leadership. I still don’t understand how I can be a servant leader in this position. I still am frustrated with my situation of helplessness. I can do more now but maybe I shouldn’t be doing as much as I am. I don’t really know what God is trying to teach me and so I’m figuring I’ll have more of these tough lessons to learn. This past Thursday I began hurting again after a couple of weeks of feeling nearly better. Today especially I’m having a hard time standing up again. So I don’t know what the rest of the summer will look like or what will happen after this summer if I make it that far all I know is what is right now. And this simple vision of the current moment may itself be a lesson of God’s.
Thanks for reading about my struggles and the lessons I’m struggling to learn. I think I’m going to go enjoy some pizzookie with my team. Pizzookie for you who don’t know is like a pizza cookie with cookie dough cooked about five minutes and a pint of ice cream on top. Today’s flavors are Snickerdoodle cookie dough with Blue Bell Moo-llineum crunch on top. Yum… I think that’s enough of my thoughts for now. Thanks for reading all two of you who make it to the end. Leave some love.

Searching (for real this time)

Disclaimer before reading: In this blog I will refer to being a Christian as being married to Christ. Please do not suppose I have taken vows of any sort particularly to celibacy. I have in fact vowed to abstinance before marriage and faithfulness in marriage but not to celibacy, poverty, or obedience. Also this article might make more sense if you take the time to read the other two articles on searching. They give this one a bit of context. Begin reading: Because of my upbringing I was destined to an arranged marriage to Christ; I did have some freedom however as to what age I would be when that took place. It happened on the side of a mountain in the chilly evening of July 31, 1997. I was 11. As might be expected of any new bride I was anxious to know everything I could about my new love and reciprically I shared with Him everything I knew to about myself. Through the early years that excitement began to pale into my desireing a longer leash to discover who I was apart from this arranged marriage partner. This phase occurred while I was still in High School. I wanted not only to know myself but to know what life was like not being yoked in marriage. But the most peculiar thing is everytime I began to walk away, He was right there with me as if my Lover wanted nothing more than to be always by my side. And so I learned to live with him. But not only did I learn to tolerate His presence, I began to learn to truly love him. I began to cling to His side and follow him wherever the lead me. And when I wasn't following Him and I relapsed into doing my own selfish things, they were completely devoid of meaning. I now not only loved my Lover but also I learned to love the things He loves. This journey or search has obviously taken many different forms. To China, to sit at the feet of LCU Bible and Missions professors, to South Plains, to Pine Springs, to other mountains and nature settings, to South Plains Children's Shelter, to Chicago, to the back of a motorcycle, to "seminary," to various friendships, to Via Christus, and to Brazil. Through these events and other experiences I'm trying to learn from my Lover what it is He is passionate about so I too can be passionate about those things and spend my life working in love and harmony with Him. Again and again I have been pulled into Isaiah, Hosea, Amos, Micah, Habakkuk, and the Gospels. I have called out many times, What do you want from my life Lord? And His response comes back as to "sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come follow Me" (Lk 18:22). But I try to follow my Lord without first dealing with my material belongings and that buys me four months of following my Love in Brazil. I know however that because I have not completely followed the command I must return to the life I left and the debt and responsibilities attatched to my name. I am greatful to get to return to my friends and mentors and hopefully they will be able to encourage me to more fully follow this command. But my Lord's command is not so vague as to follow into the unknown. He has told me what He wants of me and what He will lead me into. That is, "He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8). And more direct commands can be found in Isaiah and Amos (and many other places). Now that I know what my Love wants from me, upon returning to the States from this honeymoon I will make the necessary preparations to follow through on his commands. That means not accummulating more debt, and as quickly as possible laboring for my freedom from debt. I am like Gomar, the prostitute of Hosea. I have forsaken my true love for the comfort and convenience of being self-serving and making for myself a home in this world. The child I have born through this prostitution is my debt. But fortunately my Lover is kind and good in correcting me and my poor choices. I must now deal with this child, debt, most severely. And until I deal with it and gain freedom I will be held back from completely following my Lord's intentions for my life. What will it look like to be a servant of my Lord during this shackled time? I want to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. I don't want to be religious while continuing to participate in social systems that oppress people. I want to live simpily so that others can simpily live. I want to continue to liquidate the things I call mine to be generous to God's children in my backyard, Chicago. Unfortunately as long as I live in the U.S. I think I will be part of the problem. I will be consuming things like oil that are harmful to the environment, I will be consuming foods produced in countries where people die of starvation, I will be wearing clothes sewn by children held in slave labor. And I will not see the suffering I am causing. I will not be able to love the starving person, or help the person suffering the flooding of global warming. I will not be able to offer an alternative to the child who will sell herself for sex or labor. I will not be able to love the least of my Lover's children. I must follow Him, I must seek him out where He is among the suffering in the world. And to completely Love Him is to commit myself to the labor of love among the least. Freedom from the world= freedom through obedience to God

Missions' Moment

This is for a class assignment that I'm suppose to find a way to use and/or share the information I found in the BGC archieves with others. So I hope some of you find this information useful or encouraging or maybe as a reminder of the "good ole days."

This past week I spent some time in the Billy Graham Center Archives. I spent a few hours digging through a box of letters from a couple young missionaries in their early years to the Masai Tribe in Kenya. John W. Stauffacher lived from 1878-1944 and his wife Florence Minch Stauffacher from 1881-1859. They went with the African Inland Mission (AIM) agency serving in Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania. They compiled a dictionary of the Masai language and a Bible translation.

John worked under Charles Hurlburt whom he spoke well of as a father. Charles Hurlburt lived and worked at the missions station among the Kikuyu in Kijah. John spent the first part of his first term working in Kijah as well, learning from Hurlburt and learning the language and culture of the Masai whom he had come to minister among.

In his correspondence to Florence on 11 June 1903 he talked about his joy in God, the darkness in Africa, and his desire for Florence to join him there. In the following letter, 29 August 1903, John wrote about his surprise at the beauty and joy of Africa and the people at the station in the mountains (Kijah). John spent his time in the early days teaching English and learning their language in preparation to be the first missionary among the Masai.

On the 10 of October 1903 John wrote about slipping away to a serene place to pray and to study the language by the cliffs among the trees and a stream. At least that is what his superior Hurlburt thought. John secretly hid away to read the letters from his love Florence.

In these early letters I got the feeling that John polarized the world. He saw Africa as dark and God as the light that needed to be taken to them. This made him very sure in his task and without hesitation in going and giving up all so that some may be saved. The urgency he spoke of in the early letters convicted me on some letter. John was taking his call seriously. Then I read the letter from October which displays the youthful humanity of this man of God. The fact that he would slip away to dream of how it will be when his lover joins him on the field shows that maybe those of us in this room 100 years later studying to be missionaries are not that much different. Do we take the call that seriously? Do we understand the urgentcy? Do we see in black and white? And should we?

This letter from 30 of March 1904 stood out to me. I will quote from it directly for you to see how John really spoke and thought.
"Now about yourself. I almost wish you had not asked me for advice. Not that I do not come to advise you, but because there is only one advice that I can honestly give and that may seem to be for my own selfish interest. Before I say anything else I will say full well to do whatever you think best regardless of me. Try as far as possible to know what the will of your Master is and the rest will take care of itself. Let me give you a few facts however which may help you decide what to do. Your work here would no doubt be exclusively among the Masai. European settlers are coming in rapidly nearly all of them looking for their own selfish interest. The government giving land grants, is gradually crowding down the Masai to a narrow territory and if this continues and there is no reason why it should not they may finally be crowded out entirely. There are a people quite different from others, in that they will not cultivate, nor do the work of other natives. They simply watch their sheep and cattle. So they are of no use to the white man unless taught. Then if their feeding grounds are taken away from them what will become of them." paraphrase-Half have been reduced already. "So your life and mine worth while to be spent in rescuing some of this generation for our Master. It may seem like uselessly throwing our lives away." paraphrase-John will waste his life if some are rescued. He feels heaven would be a disappointment after the work he's done if some aren't there. She is faced with either continuing education or joining him. He says you don't need more training to compel the Mosai to Christ. All they need is love. They need pure love by someone willing to come live among them. "They are dirty, deceitful, wretched. Only a touch of love will brighten them. Your education will come to nothing except that it may enlarge your life. But unless you are certain that God wishes you to stay don't waste a minute longer than is really necessary. We don't know how much time he will give us and especially in this country one can never know which day will be his last."

John seems to have an understanding of the greatest command. As far as I know he also went through higher education but he is a couple years older than Florence so he finished before her. I have wondered about what John is saying many times myself. Do I really need this degree in order to do the work of God? Would I have been equally prepared for service if I had just gone out after college, or even high school? At the end of high school I didn't want to do missions and at the end of College I didn't know where God was calling me to serve. But Florence knows where God is calling her or at least where John is calling and she must decided if school is necessary for service and love.

In another letter from 29 April 1904 John writes that he has now moved to the Mosai tribe (described as a dangerous warring people). They have asked him to be their friend. He describes them as also being intelligent because they listened to the story he brought them about Christ and told them about the work (mission) he is doing. The Mosai boy, Mulungit, who taught him the Mosai language at the mission station in Kijah is now zealously preaching among the Mosai. John has discipled him since moving to Africa and Mulungit also studied with Hurlburt.

John writes many more letters to Florence trying to persuade her to join him. John tells her she would be teaching the women and children at home and cooking while he would travel to the ten nearby villages to preach. Florence finally arrived around the 8th of October 1905. They married sometime before the 8th of May 1906. Their first furlough was in 1909. Following that to led expeditions into Uganda and Tanania. They led the first group to Zaire in 1912. Then they served in Uganda until their second furlough in 1914. They returned to Africa in 1918 after WWI to Kenya until 1940.

As many terrible things we say about the missionaries that went before us and had some terrible practices, they also made some tremendous strides to spread the gospel. God has been working throughout the centuries. I wonder if the bible translation John made is still in use. I wonder if there are still Christians among the Mosai that he went to, generations later. I wonder if the Mosai still have land and cattle and sheep. Or maybe they have been moved to another land. If any readers know some follow up on the work the Stauffachers did I would love to know about it.

This information was gathered from letter from John W. Stauffacher to Florence Minch Stauffacher, between June 1903 and May 1906. Folders 1-4, Box 1, Collection 281, Papers: 1902-1973, n.d.. Archives of the Billy Graham Center, Wheaton, Illinois.

Day of Prayer and deep meditation

So the past two days were near miserable for many reasons but today had a completely different feel to it. I've been waking up before my alarm all week (maybe I adjusted to EST while on the East Coast the past two weeks) and have spent that time in prayer and reading to slowly center my day in the Lord. I have to confess this is a practice that I have always desired but have never made any effort to maintain. So today I went from waking up slowly in prayer and reading (while cooking sticky rice) to going up to school to sit around in the lounge and reading for another hour about spiritual warfare. After that with was 45 minutes of intimate prayer time with 5 of my closest peer in the ICS program. Then we went to the spiritual conflicts class. After that two of these friends pulled me aside to lay hands on me and pray over me. Why all this prayer today? God has definitely been speaking to me.
I've been pouring my thoughts into studying about folks like Francis and Claire, Patrick and Brigid, and the lives of other dedicated preacher/missionary/servant types that had a special calling to the poorest of the poor. Jesus was born amongst the poorest through the detestable unwed teenage child. His friends were smelly fishers, disgusting leapers, and worthless disabled. (these adjectives are not my opinion but the common perception of people by the general society at the time)
So I'm praying. I'm about to go to work. It is a place where I can relax and shut down on what I'm doing to enter the routine of the task all the while process these things that are weighing heavy on my heart.
Please join me in prayer at this time. I'm confused. I am broken and being made more and more aware of this all the time. I'm not okay and you're not okay so what are we going to do about it?
Oh but I don't want to end on a sad note, today I rejoice in the grace we have. I rejoice that there are options for us. I rejoice that I'm here in Wheaton surrounded but information from people, books, experiences that keep drawing me nearer and nearer to the Lord. Now I hunger and thirst for a season in life where I will no longer feel pressured to find meaning through studies and find fullness in life in living as the least, as only a servant, and rejoicing in that lowly position. Praise God!

Experimentation With World Hunger

I've been trying all day to put a video of an interview with the main man at Breedlove all day and can't get my computer to recognize my video camera. So... I'm going to go ahead with explaining this project and hopefully before too much time goes by I'll be able to figure out how to upload video.

What is this so called experiment with world hunger?

I don't know what I can do alone for justice and poverty in the global south but this crazy idea began to develop in October of this past year. I was at a feast or famine meal at World Missions Workshop and ended up in the group eating lentil soup. I was eating the soup and really enjoying it. Then the organizer of the event made an announcement that anyone desiring to could buy a box of soup and also donate one over seas. This is called buy a box, share a box. Sounds good to me. So I mulled over the idea for a couple more months until going back to Lubbock. I decided to eat almost nothing but soup three times a day 6 and a half days a week for the whole spring semester.

What is this soup?


USA-ID is the main purchaser of the soup. They purchase it to ship all over the world to schools, hospitals, and communities. The interview will go into further detail as to who gets this food. Victims of Katrina were also sent Breedlove soup. The soup is dehydrated potatoes and lentils and nutrient enriched vegetable mix. It contains everything necessary to sustain life. It's not high in fat or calories so I will loose weight (not intentional just seeing how well the stuff really sustains).

What do I really expect to accomplish?

I know that I will gain personal experience with a small part of life that few Americans ever really know. We live in a food culture. Next time you watch a TV show count how many food commercials you see. Food commercials are about half of all commercials. It is ridiculous how much food our culture consumes and how little is available for peoples of the global South. Mr. Finch in the interview says that something like half of the world's population lives on less than one US dollar a day and like 85% live on less then $2. So sure what I'm doing is simulated with exceptions but it's already really opening my eyes to our over consumption and I'm learning how little it really takes to survive and also a little bit about what it feels like to really be hungry and how that affects concentration, sleep, learning, health, etc....

I also hope this project will have a ripple effect on some of the people around me. I hope some people step forward and ask for a bag of soup and commit a week, 2, month or something to similarly participate. I also hope that some opportunities will open to have either feast or famine hunger banquets at churches, classes, organizations and stuff. I want to interview some other people maybe with organizations like Heifer or the One Campaign. Mostly I would just love for people to begin thinking about the needs around the world and get creative in finding ways to share or redistribute wealth globally and make the world a better place for everyone. That really makes me sound idealistic but I'm going to dream big.

So that's kinda what's going on. I began eating the soup last Tuesday 2 January. So far so good. Classes start back tomorrow morning and we'll see how the energy and concentration go. I'm already down 6lbs and other than that I'm still trucking on and excited about the project.

If you have any suggestions on more things I can do, video, people to talk with, etc... leave comments and help me out. Or if you want to get involved somehow, leave a comment.
Thanks!

Church Planting Team

This week I've been blessed with visitors. Well they weren't really here to see me, they came to see the city. Four Texans and a Kentucky boy planning to relocate to the Chicago area in the near future to set deep roots in one of the neighborhoods.
Whatever "it" is, they have it. They spent their days wondering around the city checking out neighborhoods like Wicker Park, Logan Square, Chinatown, and Wrigglyville (among a few others). They were looking for communities with great diversity, affordable living, and some sort of true community mentality even if only in bars and coffee shops. Logan Square at first glances has been the most promising neighborhood they visited.
Getting to run around with this team was a huge blessing to me. I don't think they realized just what an impact they had on me. I was blown away by their genuineness and their simplicity. They let me cook for them at my house (one of my favorite ways to let people know I love them). This was funny because of the soup thing I didn't even try my own cooking. Then we had some great church conversation in the basement with this sounds of Lucas on the guitar (we named one of his songs "the express").
They also got a chance to meet Mike and Julie (and Emma) and Karen and Kelsey at the Grafton. I hope they found that conversation beneficial. Mike had some advice from one church planter to another and answers to some of their questions. The Grafton was a really cool place. I'd like to go back sometime and sit on the couches in front of the fireplace. I love Fireplaces.
Yesterday they did some exploring of the U of I downtown campus, ate at Una, and hit up Navy Pier at night. Navy Pier at night has to be the coolest thing I have done in the city. We went on the roof of the banquet hall building at the very end of the pier, laid down, and imagined the stars. I don't know what Lucas, Michelle, and Jonathan were thinking during this experience but it took me back through a spiral in my life beginning in China noticing no stars, to the country motorcycle rides, to camping, to now. God is in the city. That was super cool!
Michelle and Jonathan are seriously considering moving up here in May. Heather and Andrew would follow in May 2008. And Lucas will do grad school first. They all finish undergrad this May. We should begin praying for people for them to begin friendships and ministry with when they move here and also for their spiritual development and logistics of it all before that time. Like I said earlier, that have IT. God's involved in this team. Their hearts are passionately seeking Him in all they do.
One more thing, what they are doing is not full time ministry. They want ministry to be a part of their life. They are moving up here to work and to live. When they come they will have a normal apartment and normal jobs but in they off time they will be in the neighborhoods making friends and bringing a life-giving message. They are not a charity but they want to help make life better for the people surrounding them. What they are doing is something all Christians can do and possibly should be doing. It is a missional mindset in the midst of life. They don't have to relocate to Chicago to do this. They could have done it in Dallas or Louisville. It doesn't matter. All that to say, I think they have a good idea, even a Biblical idea.

Moments of Conversion: Part 5

Moments of Conversion: Part 5
Sitting in Front of a Chinese Classroom

July 2005
CampChina ELI/C
Shashi, Hubei, People's Republic of China

Ms. Jen was the teacher for class 6, five flights of stairs up a tower of a school in a small Chinese town of 2 million. She had about 16 students who became the delight of each day and made the climb up the stairs several times a day worthwhile. Some of the things I remember most from that time spent in China were the 100+degree days and humidity more oppressive then I ever thought possible. Air conditioner was thought to be bad for your health and coffee as well. But these minor struggles were worth it just to hear the way my students called my name. I started blogging just before going to China so I want to pull up two of those blogs because too much time has passed and I can't write from my heart about China anymore. But maybe you will hear through my earlier writing some of what happened to me that summer.

Friday, July 29, 2005

Today I must say good-bye to many of my students and so I can't sleep. I realized something, again, tonight. Last summer I made this same mistake. I forget that while I am away from Lubbock the rest of you guys lives are still going on. I am so used to talking to all my friends everyday that when I go a whole summer without talking to you in my mind your lives are on pause. I know this isn't the case. So...when I come home I want to hear lots and lots of stories. I want to know who has been spending time with who. Who went where. What happened at all the camps and missions trips. Please tell me lots and lots of stories. I hate that I missed out on such a big part of all your lives, again. That however does not make me regret being gone for another summer. This brings me to what made me originally remember missing out on so much. I feel like, in a small way, I have been silenced much like Zachariah. My voice is all but gone from being sick so I am not a very good teacher on my last days teaching. So I try to keep my words as few as possible. I really want to take a step back and take it all in before I go. There are many faces here I may never see again. Many faces that mean so much to me. So I will stand quietly watching everything. Maybe by the time I go home I will be well and be able to sing like Zachariah, a song of China. And maybe it will be a little while. I hope it is really because for now I have many things to think about and many stories to listen to from all my friends. So please tell me your stories first and then please help me figure out what happened to me during my brief stay in China. I miss you and cannot wait to be home in a real bed sleeping on a real sheet under real blankets. I cannot wait to have my own room and people who can understand what I am saying. But then again, I will never forget my home in China. I will never forget the faces who loved me because I was courageous enough to travel around the world to teach them something that will help them LIVE in this world. I decided I also want a Pizza when I get home, with real cheese. Have a good evening and Peace out!

Saturday, July 30, 2005

Today we leave Shashi. I have to admit that I have cried already more then I thought I could. I am pleased to say that I went out with a bang however. My last class was with out a doubt the best class, even though I had no voice all morning. Everyday my teaching really did improve. No matter how difficult or tiring teaching was, I never gave up and every day got a little easier and a little more comfortable. Friday night 12 of my students took me to a western food restaurant and they were such inexperienced fork and knife users. It was ridiculously funny. They stabbed the rolls with a fork!?!? So funny! It makes up for the time they took me to the noodle place and I couldn't eat my noodles with chop sticks. Noodles are the most difficult thing to eat with chop sticks I think. After eating we went to an underground roller skating rink. It was kickin'. I had the time of my life. Those kids are so crazy and so much fun. I wish we could have bonded more quickly but I am glad we were able to enjoy each other to the very last day. So I was thinking while I was showering tonight and decided that it is a very terrifying thing to go to a place that you do not speak the language. I have just now started to recognize some of the words I hear frequently, even though I do not know what some things mean. And today I understood a whole sentence one of my students said. She said "I do not want you to go (in Chinese)" and I replied, "I wish I could stay longer (in English)." I didn't know she didn't say it in English but when I answered back all my students stared at me and were like, "Since when do you understand Chinese?" I guess I just picked up on the tones and emotions, which is what I rely on most of the time because I usually have no idea what is going on. But I felt really special for understanding the Chinese. But what I decided was even more terrifying then being in a place you don't know the language is for me to come home and never hear my name spoken again by a Chinese student. Every time I hear them calling my name I melt. Just the thought of one of my students really wanting to talk to me fills me with joy because talking with the foreigner is difficult and they are all so shy. But for some reason they love me and say I'm very kind and cannot stop asking me questions. I love them all very much and tomorrow is going to be a very difficult day for all of us. And Monday is going to be another very difficult day because that is when the team splits up. We don't know if we will ever see each other again but we have invested so much in each others lives that I imagine we will keep in touch for a long time. Xia zhen (good-bye) Ming Yu

The actual "moment of conversion" that I wanted to discuss came the begining of the third week of teaching. It was Monday, my least favorite day, and I didn't want to be teaching that day. Getting started was always the hardest part. So I passed out all the materials for the day and greeted all my students then I was standing at the back of the room saying a silent prayer trying to muster some strength to get going again and I looked up and saw that my students had come to class early to transform my chalkboard into a mural of love. They drew me as an aneme character and wrote "I love you Jen" in english and chinese and had some other things that we enjoyed together on the board. That was the best gift I have ever recieved. After taking that all in and my students were getting back to working in their books I sat under the board, on the floor (a taboo in China) and my heart hurt for my students. Because if all I have ever learned in the church is true, there is little hope for them. They were all going to perish. Sure, I was trying to sow seeks and hopefully others would come into their lives as well but what if that didn't happen? And I hurt for my precious little friends. Then a couple of them asked me why I sat of the floor and they joined me. They sat on the floor, maybe for the first time since being inculturated into their culture, because they wanted to be like me. wow. I'm rambling now but maybe you see what an impact these small things had on me. I love my students and sometimes I still get email or MSN live conversations with them. That's always pretty awsome.
As always, thanks for reading. I like to hear your thoughts and questions in the comment form.
-ming yu

Moments of Conversion: Part 2

Moments of Conversion: Part 2 Intro to Missions Class

This next part of my story is much less dramatic, it came more as a subtle realization of what God was bringing me into. This became much more than one class for me. I was almost instantly hooked to the laid back atmosphere of the missions department and the genuineness of the professors. Especially one of them who had quite a story to tell. He became one of my spiritual mentors for his passion, his story, his experience, his prophetic wisdom, and his concern for his students. This man had been called out of the crack house to Christ. Then from the oil fields to wherever the roughest mission field would be. His journey led him to a get a missions degree where he met his team mates and his wife. He spent the next 10 years in Kenya. Now he's one of the founding pastors of an inner-city fellowship for primarily the homeless and prostitutes. He's been doing that for 10 years now also. He has a master's degree because they made him in order to be a professor, but he knows that there are more important things than degrees and formal training.

All that to say, I had the privilege to sit at this man's feet for almost 3 years. When I went home for fall break he made the time to spend nearly four hours on a Monday morning in conversation with me. He is phenomenal, not perfect but he has truly inspired me in many ways. Someday soon he's going to get fed-up with the institutional system and quit teaching. At that time he has a list of some of his students who would be willing to drop everything and peruse our passion to serve together. Sometimes I pray for this day to come sooner.

One of the first things that I remember learning in his class was that if I want to be effective as a missionary I've got to be committed. There should be none of this less then 5 years business. By then I should be just starting to feel like I have a clue as to how the culture works and how to contextualize the gospel and maybe have a few converts. But at that point leaving would be premature and undo all that had been done. So it was in his classes that I committed my life in my heart to God's service. I let go of any dreams or desires to ever return to the states and get a normal job and live like the model I had seen from everyone else I knew. I committed myself to God's wisdom to lead me into the dark places that I hadn't seen anyone go before.

Other things I learned were about loving all people. I can't believe this struck me as such a challenging thing. I was sheltered in my nice grid neighborhood. I wouldn't have known where to find the homeless, prostitutes, and drug-addicts if it hadn't been for this man's influence. Now I know the names of the homeless men I spent many cold Friday mornings drinking coffee with and eating homemade muffins. I also learned how to write amazing personal reflection papers in this class reflecting on such strange topics and my dead goldfish. And another wonderful feat was I learned how to tell stories and enjoy making speeches in a class on story-telling called "communicating Christ today." It was my favorite class I took in undergrad.

This man also introduced Brian McLaren to me. We read "A New Kind of Christian" in ethical Christian living class then he recommended "The Last Word and the Word After That" to me after I started talking about starting a small life discussion/hang-out/safe place to ponder faith/type group. I don't remember the connection now as to why he recommended the book. I just remember getting really confused about the whole heaven/hell issue that wasn't even the point of the book.

So I guess the main thing I learned from this man was that we are called to be like Jesus. In striving to be like Jesus I realize that we are to love like Jesus, heal like Jesus, connect like Jesus, restore like Jesus, revolutionize like Jesus. I'm not going to be perfect in these attempts but that's where my heart will be. And wherever God eventually sends me it's going to be a lifetime commitment of service. I've done my time with the short-term enough to realize that serving God is the only place I find fulfillment and purpose.

and that's a wrap.
-p

Moments of Conversion: Part 1

Disclaimer: by conversion I mean something that has been transformational not the traditional view of Christian conversion.

Moments of Conversion: Part 1 Called to China
Fall of 2003, first semester at Lubbock Christian University, roommate: Sarah, Midnight, week before spring registration.

Sarah is my best friend. At the time of this conversation she was having rocky times with a boy and I was just not finding my nitch in college. We wanted to find purpose and fulfillment in the things we were doing. We wanted to know what was going to make life "worth it." In conversation somehow she suggested that we take a class by this crazy old marathon running ex-missionary to Kenya professor named Jim. We found that the intro to missions class would fit nicely into our schedules (she was more then willing to drop a math class to take it or something like that). But I'm an extremist and somehow I felt that just deciding to take a class wasn't going to do anything to solve the current states of unfulfillment. So we continued to discuss and then I just laid on my bed starring at the ceiling asking God what he wanted me to do. Then this crazy idea came to me that I wanted to begin praying that God would give me the opportunity to do a short-term assignment in the far East. I was thinking either China or Japan but the catch was that I had never heard of anyone going to either of those places for missions work (so secretly I felt pretty safe in praying for this).
Sarah and I talked a little longer, prayed, and went to sleep. The next day came sooner then we wanted and dragged ourselves across campus to chapel. We sat in the traditional sorority section where we belonged and got ready for a thirty-minute nap. However, my life was about to change. A man named Larry got on the stage and shared a video of Camp China with the student body. I was probably shaking thinking God doesn't intervene this radically. I don't know if I'm comfortable with this. But at the same time I was also totally stoked knowing that God was in control and was sending me to China. Chapel ended soon enough and we walked to our Kinesiology class just talking about how cool it would be to really to "that." After class I rushed to the SUB to talk with Larry and see if I could qualify for the program. In a matter of just a couple weeks I registered, interviewed, told everyone I knew, and had some major discussions with the parents. They were not keen on the idea. Eventually the tough decision was made to accept a possition as a camp counselor in New Mexico that summer (a dream I had since 6th grade) and then my parents agreed not to make any more of my decisions. I was still 17 so they felt they had just one year left to control me even though I no longer lived at home and all they paid for was my health insurance. This was the first compromise I remember making with my parents that has really ended up well. I'm not saying they made the right decision in grounding me to the states but because the final decision was made in regards to our mutual respect and love for each other we grew to respect each others decisions which is now a huge blessing.
Looking back, I really miss the feeling of a sure "calling." What do I mean? I miss knowing where God wants me and what he wants me to be doing. When people ask me if I feel like I am where I'm suppose to be, I don't usually know what to respond. I'm in Wheaton because I chickened out of going long-term in China but I don't think that teaching English is really where I would have been most gifted and effective. When I get where I'm going I'm confident that God will supply where I lack but I also know that I have been blessed with an abundance of gifts and I need to make the most of them and go where I'll be most effective. I still have a heart for China and have been deeply impacted by that experience. But the call is still certain and I'm still going, just not real sure where or when just yet.
jp