"Whom Shall I Send?"

Are you thinking you're called to serve God on the foreign field? Do you have a heart for the children of Christian workers living and laboring in the Middle East? Are you a school teacher looking for the next task the Lord has for you to put your hand to?

Maybe you're the One called to teach at a co-op school for Missionary Kids in a country in the Middle East.

If you're the ONE, comment on this blog or email me.

Fourth Middle East Report

As we see our trip coming to a close, our schedule has become more hectic. We have received so many invitations to spend time in the home of locals that we have to turn down more than we accept. The time spent in Arab homes is our best opportunity to share why we are followers of Jesus. We are constantly asked if we are Muslim--which leads to an opportunity to talk about our dedication to the God of the Old and New Testaments. Our stories are listened to with respect and courtesy. Pray that the seed of the Word falls on good soil producing a good crop.

One of the local sheiks is the majority owner of the language school where we are conducting the English Cafes. He is grateful that we have come to serve his people, and today he will host us in the village of his ancestors. The majority of people in this village have never spent any time with Westerners. And very few Westerners will ever experience--or be allowed--to spend time with common Middle Eastern village dwellers. Our tour planned for today is the product of almost ten years of relationship-building between Western workers and local Arabs. This is the kind of dedication and perseverance workers here demonstrate. Together we pray it will produce abundant fruit. Much of this country's population live in remote areas, but few are being penetrated as effectively as this. I'm just amazed that our team and those that support us get to be a part of the work our Father is doing in this remarkable but thirsty land.

The two-man team that came to build a playground and put on sport activities for the workers' children has wrapped things up. The rest of us will benefit from Ed and Wes' work tomorrow as we enjoy an appreciation luncheon in a parent's home. That will be followed in the evening by a dinner with the faculty of the language school.

I don't think I've heard my stomach growl on this entire trip.

Third Middle East Report

Thursday and Friday are the weekend in the Muslim world. Our team made ourselves useful by organizing games for the workers' children. Ed and Wes did this earlier this week and this time we all had the chance to hang out and play sports with these Third Culture Kids.

Third Culture Kids, that is the children of western ex-pats in a foreign country, are less similar to our kids who grow up in the west than you might think. Even though they look and talk like the little ones that live on your block, they have more in common with the children of the natives. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it was our goal to treat them and play with them like the kids back home. Sometimes "suffering for Jesus" just means you're serving parents by playing with their kids. For parents raising kids in a difficult place like this, that goes a long way.

Friday is the Muslim Sabbath. That is the day the western workers from all around the city gather for worship. In this country, it is assumed that westerners are Christians. So, contrary to popular belief, they are permitted to gather among themselves for worship, prayer, the Lord's Supper, fellowship, and Bible teaching. For me personally, that is one of the highlights of the Middle East trip. At home, I am prone to forget how absolutely crucial it is for the Body to gather together regularly to draw strength from one another as the Spirit moves through the assembly of saints. It's essential for us at home. And in this foreign field, it's as vital as oxygen.

The remainder of our Sabbath day was spent relaxing with a worker here from our home city named Frank. Frank is an American student here learning Arabic as he prepares to work here long term. Frank has been here a little over a year and has a reputation in this town as a man of God and a man that loves the locals. Not only is he learning Arabic from books in a classroom, but he is learning it on the street and is able to move and converse freely throughout the city. Many doors of opportunity have been opened to him to share Good News at every level of this city's social structure.

Our team visited Frank in his home to bring him little pieces of Americana and to encourage him as he lives his life here very far away from family and friends. But I think our team left his house much more blessed by him than he by us. He served us an amazing meal and blessed us with testimony of all the ways our Father has used Frank during his stay here.

It always seems to work out that way; you go out to be a blessing but end up being the one most blessed.

Second Middle East Report

The honeymoon is over. This morning we woke up with no water. No toilet flushing. No showers. The rest of the team is still in bed so I haven't been able to give them the "good" news. Our host warned us when we arrived that this could happen. The way it works here is that the municipal city water is turned on in this area once a week to fill all the water storage tanks at each house. If that water runs out, a water truck needs to be called in to recharge the house's storage container. Our host noticed the water levels getting critically low before our arrival and put the call in to the office that dispatches the water trucks days ago, but the truck still hasn't come. Four days and seven American water hogging visitors later, we're out of water.

Every diesel truck I hear laboring up the hill we are staying on in our city I hope and pray is the water truck. We'll have to go get some water in a bucket to flush the toilet this morning. We'll probably wait till all of us use it once first.

Life is like that after a hurricane in South Florida; after a disaster.

Here? That's just the way people live.

On the bright side, we are having an amazing time. Yesterday our team went on outings with young locals who are students at the language school where we are serving. Forrest and I visited the city's oldest mosque. It is currently under renovation. A caretaker explained its rich history that dates back to the thirteenth century. This city is, of course, much older than that, but in the thirteenth century, this city became the ruling city in the region when the Arab empire was enjoying its greatest expansion in history. Justine and Shannon and I also visited the castle, also under renovation, of the king that spearheaded this region's thirteenth century expansion and influence.

Local young women showed Luann, Shannon, and Justine the city center and shopping yesterday afternoon. Our outings were a cultural immersion packed with shopping in the souk (market), eating in local food, and riding around in cabs and buses shoulder to shoulder with locals. We've been greeted and welcomed warmly by every person we've met on the street.

Ed and Wes had a blast putting on a sports clinic for the children of the western workers here. They ran them through drills, calisthenics, and played "football" (not gridiron) with them. It's a rare treat for these third culture kids to have this kind of attention and activity. Thanks to Wes and Ed, yesterday will be a day they won't soon forget.

My wife will be glad to know that I had the student that I buddied up with take me to get a hair cut and a shave. The best shop in town is owned and run by Iraqi barbers. I visited this shop the last time I was here, but I was tempted to tell them I was German or French. How would they know the difference? My host at the time thought it would be novel if my straight razor wielding Iraqi barber knew I was an ex-Marine so he blew my cover.

When I arrived this time, the barber remembered me and was happy to get me into his chair. I thought he was a little too happy. As I laid my head back for the shave, internet video of a certain dictator facing hanging kept rolling through my brain. But I'm here to report I got the best shave, haircut, and all round barber shop experience of my life. And it only cost three bucks.

First Middle East Report

In go check smoothly did not.
Go smoothly did not check in.
Check in did not go smoothly. About half of us had our names all switched around on our tickets. The name that was on our passports was the same that appeared on our plane tickets, only in the wrong order. And Homeland Security has determined that anyone trying this little ploy is a terrorist, Delta didn't want to let us board our plane. But thanks to prayers quietly muttered and clever negotiations handled by Karen and Justine, our little stand off was soon diffused and we were on our way to Atlanta, the land of perpetual layovers.

We had an amazing first day in our city in the Middle East. Justine said that it was too much to take in. "I can’t even describe it." Like many of the others, she was at a loss for words when she saw the Old City set against a backdrop of barren mountain peaks.

"Oh wait. National Geographic. That's how I'd describe what I’m seeing right now."