More should be said, but for now, the question in my mind is simply this, “How do we develop resiliency?” Abraham is the first story that comes to mind (See Gen. 22:1, 12) followed quickly by James’ thoughts of trials (Jms. 1: 2-8).

Lately Christian has been struggling with the fact that life requires work if we are going to gain the desired results. For example, this year he did not bring home any blue ribbons from his swim meets. Instead, he brought home reminders of the amount of work he actually put into the event. Similar things are happening with school work. Study rewards with better grades while the lack of study has it’s opposite reward. These are difficult lessons to learn when really all one wants is a place to play and some friends to do it with! But the ambivalence he feels is real and deep. He may only wish to play instead of swim extra laps or study a bit longer but nor does he wish to lose or receive low grades.

Apparently, resilience can only be developed in the fire. Jesus tells us as much in Mark 9:49 – at some point or another, we all will face fiery moments, trials designed to test our mettle. Yet, this path is neither straight nor pleasant in most cases. We can bet the path to perseverance and resilience will be marked by pain and uncertainty (and always goodness and mercy).

Here’s what the author concludes:

Resiliency includes three core parts which can be described in terms of the New Testament metaphor of salt.

1. Perseverance—inner strength to not give up and to benefit from hardship. Having salt in yourselves—Mark 9:50
2. People—social support from/as encouraging role models and true friends. Relating graciously with salt—Colossians 4:6
3. Purpose—strong sense of meaning in life and/or strong belief in God’s goodness. Being the salt of the earth—Matthew 5:13

More should be said here but I’ll leave this for now. If you wish to explore Kelly’s thoughts on the subject, click here.

News, rumor, opinion:

indiscernible slush.

Twisted and turned around,

I lose my footing.

Seeing, I believe,

Dogma, shrouds doubt.

Censored questions,

Despising mystery;

Confusion and fear,

Chernobyl in my heart.

I do not wish to live

this way.

I happen upon rare finds now and then in my occasional trips to used bookstores. The following, as best I can tell, is an excerpt from the Apostle Peter’s personal journal. How it came to be in my possession I am not at liberty to discuss. I do hope, however, you find it as compelling and disarming, as have I.

Below, I have included part of the passage in Mark 14 vv. 66-72, which I believe provides the context to which this journal entry refers.

“And after a little while the bystanders were again saying to Peter, “Surely you are one of them, for you are a Galilean too.” But he began to curse and swear, “I do not know this man you are talking about!” And immediately a cock crowed a second time. And Peter remembered how Jesus had made the remark to him, “Before a cock crows twice, you will deny Me three times.” And he began to weep.”

___________________________

I was scared.  My world had already been turned around with His arrival.  “Follow Me!” He had said.  So I had.  How could I have known what was in store?  This…this was unthinkable!  He couldn’t die.  What about His promises?  What about the kingdom?  I thought He was Messiah!

Everyone fled.  Why shouldn’t they?  Romans played for keeps.  Me?  I wanted to see what would happen.  Things weren’t going the way I had hoped.  I just needed time to think.  But they kept pestering me.  It seemed as if all eyes were on me, accusing eyes waiting to turn me in too.  I had to disagree with them. What good was I to Jesus if I were under arrest?  No, I needed to buy some time….  Then the cock crowed. Three times I had the opportunity to stand by my word–three times I chose not to.

I wept the night away.  Fear, shame, guilt, and anguish of soul accompanied me as I wandered into the night.  These companions offered no encouragement or restitution, only accusation.  Each pointed a long, bony finger in my face, taunting me mercilessly.

“Look what you’ve done now.”

“And you call yourself a disciple.”

“At least fishing is an honest trade.”

Tormenting voices haunted me, leaving no place to hide.  Pulling at my hair I screamed to drown them out, yet to no avail.  Like a river raging out of control my tears gushed on.  Oh God, can I ever be forgiven?  What will become of me!

Silence.

Don’t You hear me? Have I been forsaken?

Fear gripped me.  As the echo of my voice faded into the distance, I was left to think in silence.  Increasing with every heartbeat, terror gripped my throat.  What if I have been forsaken?  Can I be forgiven?

I began to weep with renewed intensity.

____________________________

I doubt there was immediate resolve that night once the well of tears ran dry. How often I, too, wonder where God’s grace ends and punishment begins? “Surely He won’t forgive that!” I suspect and quietly perform penances begging forgiveness. “If He just understood; it was a mistake.” So, I slip into the belief that what I need most is understanding. That, if He only understood why I did something or acted that way He would give me another chance.

I too easily forget that what I need and long for most is forgiveness not understanding. I need a forgiveness that says, ‘No matter what your debt, you are not hated.’  Forgiveness brings me face to face with mercy and grace.  Understanding only works to let me get away with more in my heart.  A few days after his betrayal, Peter got a good glimpse of this very thing.

“And he said to them, “Do not be amazed; you are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who has been crucified. He has risen; He is not here; behold, here is the place where they laid Him. But go, tell His disciples and Peter also… “(Mark 16:6-7a emphasis mine)

I highly recommend both Peterson’s “Jesus Way” and Ellen’s post as food for thought.

The following article came across my desk sometime while I was away.  So many times upon our return to the US I found myself ‘frozen’ in a decision-simple decisions like, what size diaper to purchase for Jille or even a flavor of gum.  On one such occasion I began to cry as I could not get my brain to work.  A lady standing next to me muttered something like, “get a life man”.  I just ran out of the store too overwhelmed to make a decision.

Next time you host a returning “M”, I hope this article helps guide your conversation and care.

Cheers!

____________________________________

“Reverse Culture Shock – When the Familiar is Frightening”

“I can’t decide!” That was my cry every time I tried to buy cold cereal after returning to the States. In our African posting, there were seldom any cereals available at our small grocery. Early years in Asia were not much better, but at least we could get a couple different kinds. With few choices
for several years, this dazzling array was overwhelming: sweetened, unsweetened, oats, rice, corn, or wheat, in a box or bag, plain, with or without fruit or nuts. “It’s too much!” I lamented. The cereal section was a whole aisle long, top to bottom.

One friend we visited on furlough asked me to help her make spaghetti. “Takes about 30 minutes,” she said. “Not where I came from,” I thought. It couldn’t be done. I envisioned thawing the meat as I cooked it, while cutting garlic, onions, and tomatoes to be sautéed. It would take almost
half an hour to get the noodles cooked and we’d still have salad and garlic bread to make. She asked me to prepare the salad while she popped the meat in the microwave to thaw and cook, opened a can of sauce to warm in a pot, and buttered the bread with garlic butter from the refrigerator! We only had to set the table while the noodles cooked. No meal could be made that quickly with ingredients available overseas. I encountered these differences again and again. This was my home country, for crying out loud. Why did I feel so uneasy with the ease?

I sat in a ladies’ meeting, sheepishly quiet while those wonderful sisters talked about fashion. Fashion, PW! When was the last time you had tea and talked about fashion? You’re more likely to have tea and discuss the latest case of diarrhea. I was uncomfortable, like a waif at the Ritz. Sitting in a ladies meeting and listening to conversations about what was the “in” color for the year and what style clothes to buy made me very uncomfortable. I was just thankful for the pretty “new-to-me” clothes that I had received when I returned, and the sales at Wal-Mart. I just couldn’t relate to my friends’ wish lists. Not that I envied them. I just could not relate.

Although many people in her home congregation knew the recently returned PW, no one approached her. Week after week she felt alone. Then she tried an experiment. She went early one Sunday and stood in the foyer smiling at every person as they entered the building. Surprisingly, most seemed embarrassed and turned away from her. A few smiled back, but not one spoke
to her. Extreme, I am sure, but perhaps not as uncommon as we might think. Many returned PWs feel it is very hard to become a part of a congregation at home, even when they take the lead.

The Kids Feel It Too

Children who have been born and raised overseas suffer culture shock when they return to their passport country. The only culture they have known is about 10 million miles away from what they are supposed to call home.

We feel excited to return to our home country, but they know nothing of what they will face “back home.” Suddenly they must wear shoes and heavy clothes and the very air bites their noses with cold. They see the frowns and snickers when they eat peas with their fingers or slurp soup loudly or want rice at every meal. They know they aren’t pleasing the same relatives that they have been told could hardly wait to meet them. It is not uncommon for these children to either throw temper tantrums or withdraw into a sullen, silent shell.

Older children who remember their home culture may be very excited as they look forward to meeting their friends again. However, they will feel reverse culture shock when they don’t know the current slang or understand the references to TV shows or movies they missed while overseas. Today, with all the means of communication available to us (Can I hear a loud Amen! For Skype and Google and Vonage?) it is better, thank God. But the place that is supposed to feel like home can still feel pretty weird.

Good Transitions Begin Before the Plane Takes Off

There are some things you can do as a family to prepare yourself and your children for returning to your passport country. Here are some ideas:

o Make a scrapbook or photo album of the area you will return to. Include pictures of relatives the children will meet, people you may stay with, and, if possible, the house or apartment you will live in. Add pictures of animals they will see and other familiar sights from your home country. Take
time to pour over the book and explain things that work differently from their overseas home.

o Practice eating the way they do at home, wherever that is. Our youngest son was absolutely clueless about how to hold a knife and fork the American way. Now he’s 31 and still doesn’t get it, but doesn’t really care, either. Now there is no one to please; no one who could decide to withdraw their support. We could have helped more. I hope you do.

o Prepare your friends and family about jet lag, climate changes, and foods that will be unfamiliar to your children. Ask them to let the children warm up to them gradually instead of grabbing and hugging them right away. If some of the folks back home know what to expect from your children, they can help others understand and give them time to adjust.

o When back home, make a game of discovering differences and similarities to life overseas. Recognizing the differences and similarities validates your feelings about this strange life PWs and their children lead.

o Asking questions instead of assuming you know is a good way to save embarrassment as you adjust to life back home.

o “A merry heart does good like a medicine.” Let your sense of humor soothe frayed nerves, and don’t forget to laugh.

o Finally, remember that the One who sent you out is the One who is bringing you home. Knowing that is a great comfort, and may save your sanity. God is watching over every part of our journey.

Reverse Culture Shock can be an opportunity to share your world view with others. Not everyone back home wants to know about your life overseas, but some do. Sharing culture shock experiences provides a chance to impart some of your enthusiasm about your “other” life. My friends know I live two lives and ask about how the changes affect me. They use what I say to be more accurate in their requests of our Father. Don’t let reverse culture shock get you down, share your experiences.

Second, Jeanni and I watched this video with tears streaming from our eyes.  It was beautiful in the best sense of the word.

In the event this trackback does not work, here’s the link to watch this wonderful video listed under the title, “what if this was how the Church showed up in the world“.  Here’s the link:  Ellen Haroutunian

In an attempt to prime my writing pump and feeling the desire to walk down memory lane due to some recent stress, I came across this letter I wrote over nine years ago to our support team.  It’s been tweaked a bit and I’ve added some recent history and it’s every bit as relevant today as it was nine years ago…

for·eign [fáwr?n] adjective

 

1. of another country: relating to, from, or located in a country or countries other than your own
2. dealing with another country: dealing with or involved with a country or countries other than your own
3. coming from outside: introduced from outside into a place where it does not belong, often in the human body
4. uncharacteristic: not usually associated with a particular person or thing

I went skiing this past week in Slovakia.  It’s been 20 years since I’ve ever tried to keep my balance on the way down an incline I would be unable to climb up much less walk down under normal conditions without injury.  The first day was terrifying and my prayer life actually improved; “Oh, God, forgive my naive assumptions that you will keep my foot from dashing against a stone on my way down from the top of this precipice.’ The upside is that I was able to provide a bit of extra exertion for those trying to avoid me lying in the middle of the ski run.  Impressive maneuvers!  I’ve never seen such ability– but, like I said, it’s been 20 years since I’ve lain in the middle of a ski run watching Olympic style mogul jumps over my prostrate body.

Introduced into a place I probably did not belong…

Driving back from our ski retreat we were re-routed by the police due to some sporting event further down the road.  This, of course, is not a problem for people who know the area or even have a decent map.  We did not have the advantage of either.  Our map was 10 years old and most of the roads we traveled were not on the map…and I was due to preach my first wedding in just a few hours.

Relating to a country other than my own…

I never anticipated becoming a pastor of a local congregation – in this case, I’m pastoring an International Congregation with 29 countries represented.  I always thought I’d teach and provide soul care.  Preaching weddings and funerals were for someone else.  No such luck.

This couple’s story comes straight from the storybooks.  Due to wars and new political boundaries, they ended up on opposite sides of a fence one day.  In an effort to be together, she illegally crosses the boarder one night unfortunately leaving her legal papers behind.  She can’t go back.  If she does she faces possible incarceration as a fugitive.  Now, here’s the hitch, her host country will not grant her legal status until she produces the legal papers.  So, they can never be legally married in their new country.

Here’s where I come into the story.  Being a bit of a romantic, I don’t worry much about politics and agree to at least provide the spiritual covering for their union.  After all, they’ve tried for five years to get married as refugees in two different countries.  I only wish politics were the real surprise in this story.

In God’s goodness and wisdom, Jeanni and I arrive at the wedding with only five minutes to spare (you will remember we were lost in Slovakia without a reliable map).  The couple is thrilled their pastor even bothered to show up!  Well, upon my arrival and after a few quick introductions they debriefed me on the situation and then proceeded to ask, “So, what do we do next?”  Now I’m the wedding coordinator?  I really wish I had taken better notes in class….  No, wait, I don’t remember a class on weddings for political refugees new to the faith wondering how ‘Baptists’ do this sort of thing.  I’m really on my own here.

So, I do the best I can with dignity and courage, all the while, making mental notes to contact my alma mater and explain their failed attempts to prepare me for the real world.

Here’s the situation:  There were 6 language groups represented (so, the ceremony was interpreted), 4 religious groups (not denominations) present and a live, very loud band down stairs (did I fail to mention this was in an area restaurant?).  Done up in a medieval theme, the waiters were dressed as jesters while the waitresses were dressed as wenches.  The food was piled high on a board in the middle of the table and a belly dancing floorshow followed the meal.  “Surreal,” was Jeanni’s word for the evening.  Not usually associated with… weddings… was my thought.

Present day:

Just last week, due to an electrical storm, our phone and Internet were down four days.  Our admin ass’t was in Cambodia on a mission’s trip and I… well, I don’t speak Thai.  After many failed calls where they literally hung up on me, and a couple face-to-face attempts to get some help, we were back online.  The tech guy said I had everything hooked up incorrectly.  I just nodded humbly and mumbled my thanks – nothing had really changed from before the lightning storm, so how could this be my fault?  It’s called ‘saving face’.  But that’s another story.

Dealing with another… not my own.

This week I’m feeling like a foreigner.  More than ever I feel out of place.  I feel thrust into a wilderness of time and circumstance wondering at the humor of my God and the lengths to which he will go just to draw me closer to Him.  And the story is nine years old.  Maybe it’s even older and I’m just not aware.

I find myself praying more and longing for a better day.  This world really is not my home.  I’m “of another country…“

 
]]> http://daves.meintl.org/2009/03/23/of-another-country/feed/ 0 http://daves.meintl.org/2009/03/04/spiritual-friendship-follow-up/ http://daves.meintl.org/2009/03/04/spiritual-friendship-follow-up/#comments Wed, 04 Mar 2009 10:01:42 +0000 Dave http://daves.meintl.org/?p=193  

I found this on the Missional Church Network blog I thought worth posting after my brief thoughts on spiritual friendship.  This is by Georges Boujakly.

“A couple of years ago I attended a week-long retreat called a 5-Day Spiritual Academy. This particular retreat was a ministry of Upper Room Ministries and was held in Wichita at the Catholic Life Center. After the retreat I completed a writing project and received credit for a course in doctoral work I was doing at the time. (They have a two year Spiritual Academy in case you are interested in training in spiritual friendship.)

From that experience I became more aware than ever before for my need of a spiritual director. I asked one of the leaders of the retreat and he recommended a spiritual director where I live. I see this person monthly and am thankful for the help I receive. I now return the favor to several people.

Spiritual friendship has gained more ground among evangelicals of late. It’s not that it was not happening before; it just was not the norm. It is still far from being the norm but I am convinced it is heading in that direction.

Another way of speaking of spiritual friendship is to use the term spiritual direction (considered a Catholic term by many). We in the evangelical camp are reluctant to speak in terms of spiritual direction because, among many other reasons, we fear giving any one person that much authority in our lives.

Therefore, some are more comfortable with the term spiritual friendship where we receive and give some direction for the spiritual life. One drawback to this terminology is it tends to be more of an accountability (This is beneficial but it’s not the point of spiritual friendship) session than listening to the voice of God in the life of another. My contention is that there are gifted people in the body of Christ who are especially called to listen to what God is doing in the lives of others and input significant direction for the future. “Why?” I can imagine someone asking. “Why can’t I listen to my own life and give my own direction to my own life?” Short answer: Spiritual growth in the Christian way is a communal project.

So when do I need a spiritual friend most? And why?

 

• When I realize that I am but one person and I have limits. Do I hear an Amen? All kinds of limits: Physical, intellectual, spiritual. Although I know a lot about theology, I can’t make sense of all the tragedies of life. Another’s perspective is priceless.
• Although I may consider myself in shape spiritually there are times when I experience fatigue.
• Although I may be fit spiritually, I need help to get to the next level where I have never been with the help of one who has.
• Although I can see progress in my spiritual life, I can get stuck spiritually and need help getting unstuck.
• I have at times prayed to a prayer proof ceiling and needed help to get beyond it. When prayer seems like an unbearable chore and a royal waste of time, I need a spiritual friend.
• I have had times when my eyes could not see but ink on the pages of my Bible. Ink without life is darkness. Another’s light can do wonders.
• I have had the spiritual wind knocked out of me when I was running full stride in faithful service to God and others.
• When the promises of God seem too future and too heavenly to be any earthly good.
• When the connection is unplugged I wonder if someone with broad band fiber optic spirituality might help to reconnect me.

Enter spiritual friendship.

Finally, here are a few assumptions about spiritual friendship.

First: Spiritual friendship should be sought by everyone since it is a character trait of God. He is the friend of Abraham, David, the disciples, the sinner. Friendship has a divine address before an earthly one.

Second: Spiritual friendship assumes that the Spirit of God resides in my spiritual friend.

Third: Openness is characteristic of God and openness is the bedrock of spiritual friendship. Jesus, the Son of God, is called the Word of God. My preferred way of understanding this concept of the Word is Revealer. He opens up God to us. He opens the heart of God to us. A spiritual friend helps open our heart to God.

Fourth: I assume my spiritual friend is as flawed as I am but have sufficient humility that God uses broken eikons.

What then is the end of spiritual friendship? Growth into the likeness of Jesus Christ. Spiritual friends help us remain on the path of spiritual growth.

Spiritual friendship cannot stop at unburdening ourselves from sin. It must direct us toward godliness. In a spiritual friendship relationship, the object is not to dump all that has been happening in my life since the last time I talked with my friend. Rather, if my friend has been listening carefully to the movement of the Holy Spirit within and with me, he or she will understand better what I am going through and be able to suggest a path for growth.”

 
]]> http://daves.meintl.org/2009/03/04/spiritual-friendship-follow-up/feed/ 0 http://daves.meintl.org/2009/02/26/spiritual-friend/ http://daves.meintl.org/2009/02/26/spiritual-friend/#comments Thu, 26 Feb 2009 07:43:58 +0000 Dave http://daves.meintl.org/?p=163  

In his book, The Mentored Life, Jim Houston gives four reasons why mentoring (or, life with life, Incarnational ministry) is becoming a cultural necessity today.

1.  Alienation in Modern Society:  We may have forgotten the long tradition of apprenticeship in our modern age but the move toward mentoring is certainly an indication of a desire for some kind of connection and eldering from a wise friend in ones own chosen profession.

2.  “Fixers” not friends:  In our technological society we have turned more toward a ‘fix it’ model of intervention in people’s lives and have somehow forgotten the value of friendship.  Techniques cannot substitute for wise companionship.  “It is a friend who–not what–helps me to live life more fully and not to feel cheated personally in the process.”

3.  Out of Isolation:  Recognition, nurture, encouragement, attestation and understanding are increasingly more difficult to find in modern society–and, yes, as we spend time with Christian leaders, these things are lacking in Christian circles also.  “Mentoring may open more new horizons for us in our personal relationships than when we are only ‘politically correct’”.

4.  To Walk the Talk:  Who is integrating theory with practice in your life?  More and more, people are “looking to mentors to make a difference in their lives.  It may be fatherly or motherly presence, a loyal friend who treats us differently, someone who exemplifies what is true and wise counsel, or one who helps provide stable relationships.”  Whether we articulate it this way or not, we want someone to be Christ to us.

More and more, people are awakening to their desire for someone with whom they can experience life, look up to and taste God.  We need travel companions along the journey God has set before us.  Church history has called this person a ‘Spiritual Director’, ‘Discipler’, ‘Spiritual Father/Mother’, ‘Elder’, ‘Pastor’, ‘spiritual friend’.  Modern history has ‘professionalized’ the role into something only a select few can accomplish.  But of all the titles and roles, a spiritual friend is the most lacking and yet the most needed.  As we concern ourselves with ministering to the flock, I pray we begin to remove ourselves from the professional model, catching a vision for how we can pour our lives into a few.

It’s an old principle of “each one reach one” that still has value for us today.  If each one were to not just reach one but then walk with that one reached into the chaos of life, what would our world be like?  If you had someone you trust and respect walk with you into the unknown arenas of faith, what would that be like?  What would your life be like?

I just wonder…