Give it away!

During this season of Advent, waiting for Christ's birth, I've done some reading about gifts.  Here are a few thoughts both from the Bible, and from one Christ follower who is wanting to unwrap the gifts that God has given to me...

Romans 12:6  We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. (New Revised   Standard Version).  Since our gifts vary depending on the grace poured out on each of us, it is important that we exercise the gifts we have been given.  (The Voice).  So, since we find ourselves fashioned into all these excellently formed and marvelously functioning parts in Christ’s body, let’s just go ahead and be what we were made to be, without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something that we aren’t. (The Message) 

In any language, God makes himself known to His people

I love a gift!  It’s not my love language, but I love the surprise of a gift, the thoughtfulness of the one who gives it, the care that is expressed in the process of finding a gift.  It’s the season of giving gifts: we hope for a gift (or two or three!), we wrap with care the gifts we have lovingly purchased for our family or friends, we watch with joy as someone opens the gift that we have so carefully chosen and given.

The wonder of a child as she receives a gift...

All wrapped up and ready to be given...

God does the same thing for each of us! When God created you, created me, he wrapped up a whole lot of giftedness in each one of us.  And he delights in those moments in life when we figure out the gifts he has given to us, when we find ourselves in situations where those gifts can best be used, and when we use our gifts in a way that honors the One who gave them and brings glory to his name.

Have you ever wondered what your gifts might be?  Maybe you’ve done a gift’s assessment, or have been encouraged by someone who recognizes the gifts that God has given to you (and often that happens even before you have figured that out for yourself!).  Are you gifted with a strong belief in God, do you offer comfort easily, do you have a discerning spirit, are you an encourager, or perhaps an evangelist, maybe you are someone who gives generously, or one who is always learning or is gifted as a mentor to others.  Are you the one who possesses a pioneer spirit and easily starts new projects, who has organizational skills to the max (with the folder that says “I’m so amazingly organized!”), or maybe you’re a great Bible teacher or preacher, or perhaps a “behind the scenes” person that every body of Jesus followers so desperately needs?  

Some gifts are meant to be colorful and attractive to the eye...

And some gifts arrive in the quiet of a holy night ~

Here’s the cool thing we all need to wake up and recognize in the body of Christ:  

~God has given us different gifts!

~those gifts are not to be compared to any other gifts that God gives to anyone else

~the gifts are to be used to build up, support and encourage the body of Christ for growth

~we are at our best in God’s eyes when we recognize our gifts, use them,  pray for other gifts to be released in our midst, and thank God for the gifts.

Because, like any gift in life, they are best appreciated when they are given away.

So, find your gift, put yourself in the best place where it can be used, and then, give it away. And expect to find such great joy in the giving!

Lost in Translation

I was sitting in bed at the end of a great day hanging out with the new neighbors in our world (read: at the local refugee center), dreaming up the title for this blog post.  First I thought:  “Good Sam visits Antwerp”, or “Hula Hoops and the Good Sam”.  But in the end, I had to choose Lost in Translation!  Working in several different languages throughout life, I have learned that often things get lost in translation, (which is one of the reasons why I love medical care here in Belgium and the fact that I can speak English….most of the doctors here can speak English, and when you’re talking about my brain or my heart, I prefer to have that conversation in English!)  In our weekly women’s clubs, we start our instructions in English, then there is always the Dutch translation (an important part of our helping these new friends learn to integrate via their language skills), French translation (depending how many African women are in the group) and almost always either Russian or Arabic or another Slavic language thrown in just for fun.  

Our welcome banner ~ and our artists!

Our amazing volunteers....we had so much fun...

 But today’s story is about preschoolers and school age children, most of whom did not speak a common language that we were using as we played together.  God was good in providing a volunteer in our midst who spoke the first language of most of the children who were there, and we had great fun telling the story of Ralph, who was a small Belgian boy living in Ekeren who wanted to ride his bike down to visit his grandma in Antwerp.  On his way to Antwerp, he got beat up by a bunch of teenagers in Luchtbal, and they broke his bike and stole his iPhone.  As he lay on the ground, crying out for help, a police officer came by, looked right at him and continued on his way.  The director of his school walked by, busy with her family who was on their way to the movie theater right down the street.  They had no time to help:  after all, the movie had a definite start time!  Then came a man who was working for the city, cleaning up the streets.  He stopped to help, took the boy home, picked up his broken bike, and gave him his own iPhone and promised to buy a new phone for the boy.

The question at the end of the story was:  who was the real helper?  We figured that, with the ages of the children, and the language challenges that were there with us that afternoon, we wouldn't get much more information out of the kids than who was the real helper....

But the most beautiful thing happened as we gave the kids the chance to play out the story:  There was Ralph on his bike, and his “bike” was actually two hula hoops.  So, when the kids are telling the story, it’s Ralph and the two kids who are “the bike” with him that all fall to the ground when Ralph gets beat up by the teenagers.  Okay, that in itself is funny enough.  Lots of little kids now on the ground, showing how “beat up” they are!  Then, when the man comes and picks up Ralph and helps him, he also gives Ralph a big hug.  And then he goes and picks up the two hula hoops/”I represent a bike in this skit” kids as well.  And gives them a hug.

We walked away from the experience so blessed by the understanding of the smallest among us…..that it’s not just the one you see before you in need who needs a hug and to be encouraged, but also the others in your midst.

Many things can get lost in translation, but love doesn’t need to be translated.

Budding artists in our midst

Just in case you wondered if I was working or just playing....

Tinfoil

Okay, you might think this is a rather random title for a blog entry of a cross cultural worker in Europe.  But read on, and you’ll see that tinfoil, in fact, is an amazing instrument for bridge building.

It’s time for highlights, as in hair highlights for this 50 something year old who is trying to get beefed up with enough hair color to last the long, grey, wet, rainy  winter months that lie ahead of us here in Belgium.  Over the years, I have gone to hair stylists in fancy salons, in people’s homes, right across the street or 30 miles away.  My favorite hair stylist in my life???  It’s the one who’s working on my hair in the moment.  I recently switched to a cheaper salon but the cost wasn’t the factor that was motivating me the most.

It was, and is, all about relationship building.

Z. is the mom of a young woman who is faithfully learning how to follow Jesus.  Z's daughter recently made a public statement of her faith by immersion in water, and we rejoice in seeing God at work in her young life.  I had visited Z’s hair salon during the summer, was really happy with the results, the price was right, and it’s a short jaunt into Antwerp where the shop was located.  Bummer when I was getting ready to go again, this time to add highlights to my hair styling requests, when I found out that she no longer was working in the salon.  Good that I’m still connected to her daughter, because I then received an invitation for a color and cut in the comfort of her home.

You need to know this one thing about me and my hair:  back in my years in Chicago, I had the best hair stylist ever.  Sue was a childhood friend, and always knew what to do with my hair.  She encouraged me to get highlights early on in those days when my grey hairs started to appear (years ago already!), and she accompanied me on my wedding day and helped me to be the elegant bride that every girl dreams of in her lifetime.  So I’m the first to admit, I’M SPOILED!!!  I love to get my hair cut by someone I know and trust, and speaks my first language. 

Yet in my years abroad, away from Sue, I have learned from my colleague Hannah not to stress over my hair.  “Be adventurous, Barb.  Hair always grows back and color eventually grows out”.  So, for all the times that I’ve trusted a hairdresser here and letting my hair grow back and color grow out, it was time to trust Z. with “ashblond”.  Once we figured out where we were going with this hair coloring adventure (remember this:  both Z and I are using a common language that neither one of us is very good at, so it was a bit scary for me to say "ga maar, je mag beginnen, ik ben klaar", Flemish words for "go on, you can get started, I'm ready!"), she cut tinfoil, as in many squares of tinfoil, to get ready for the fun.

She ended up not using the tinfoil that was so carefully cut and prepared, but used a plastic cap on my head full of holes (kind of looks like a bathing cap that I should wear in the public swimming pool!) The end result:  it’s a bit blonder than what I was planning, but it makes me feel young.  And here’s what’s even more important than how my hair looks in this story:  Z. took her time doing my hair, but she also took her time sharing her life story and her fears and disappointments, her questions about Jesus and her daughter’s new found faith.  What intense and immense joy was mine when, as I got ready to leave, we had the chance to pray together, praying for God’s blessing on her home,  for God to give her wisdom in raising her children, and to pray for Jesus to speak to her heart.

In the end, it really isn’t about the tinfoil!

And for those inquiring minds that want to know, here's what ashblond looks like for now...

 

Vacation reflections

We just took a major vacation back to the US, not necessarily our plan for 2015 but when an important family member decides, on his 81^st birthday, to get remarried, it was definitely an event that we wanted to participate in…..please read on!

“What we want out of a vacation changes as we age.  It changes from vacation to vacation.  There was a time when it was all about culture for me.  My idea of a real break was to stay in museums until my legs ached and then go stand in line to get tickets for an opera or a play.  Later I became a disciple of relaxation and looked for words like beach and massage when making my plans.  I found those little paper umbrellas that balanced on the side of rum drinks to be deeply charming then.  Now I strive for transcendent invisibility and the chance to accomplish the things I can’t get done at home.  But as I pack up my room at the Hotel Bel-Air, I think the best vacation is the one that relieves me of my own life for a while and then makes me long for it again.”  Ann Patchett, “Do Not Disturb” in This is the Story of a Happy Marriage

This quote so accurately describes where I’m at in terms of vacation in recent weeks.  When I lived in Africa, and had to come up to Europe annually for a medical check up, it was all about culture then.  I would try to get in at least one museum visit and one classical music event, whether a concert or an opera.  I’ve never done the “little paper umbrellas on the side of the rum drinks” kind of vacation in life, but I have some fond memories of sitting poolside with a book in Cameroon on an occasion or two.

Taking a long look back at Garoua, Cameroon

Poolside with KB (Karen Benson)

But what I really love from this quote is her last line:  “the best vacation is the one that relieves me of my own life for a while and then makes me long for it again.” 
We had way too much fun in the US, hanging out with both of our families, playing piano solos and duets on a grand piano as Dad and Janice came in and promised, at age 81, to honor, love, and cherish till death do us part!  Fun to see them smiling, kissing, laughing, and enjoying their families and friends.  I totally got into the wedding fun and made sure that there was some clinking of glasses at the wedding reception so that they had the chance to kiss ~ with half of the retirement community where they live, and their families, looking on with great approval!

The bride and groom at the Taco Fiesta Bar....no last minute jitters here!

You gotta love the almost 81 year old groom doing the hoola hoop ~

Don't we all look good together?!

Okay, one of us had a little bit too much fun with masks!

 It was a busy vacation:  too many hours spent in the car, traveling from one family to the other, working hard to help with moving and compacting apartments.  But it was a great vacation because I walked away from it, longing for my life back home in Belgium, way sooner than I had anticipated.

I don't think there is any explanation for this one....

A rare quiet and reflective vacation moment

Childhood memories for Steve at Portage Lake Bible Camp

9 hours was too long to reach this destination....but totally worth it in the end ~

Hanging out with my NW Indiana family.....loving it!

Thanks, Paul and Janice, for providing the occasion that took us out of our ministry world in Europe and allowed us to enjoy all of your joy and time with family and friends.

The Newlyweds ~

Next vacation…..???

Look for the helpers

Well, here we go again.  It’s time for VBS (vacation Bible school, or vakantie Bijbel school in the local lingo).  It’s time to transform the building that we  can use from a formal Dutch speaking church…..

The "before" shot.....

What a cozy coffee corner!

....to Mount Everest, where kids are conquering challenges with God’s Mighty Power (thanks, Group Publishing, www.group.com, for this super fun curriculum!)

I have to admit, I went into the week a bit weary, physically tired.  Life is just plain busy right now.  As we pulled up to the church to set up last Sunday, and we went around taking pictures of how the church was already set up so that we could set it up again when we were done on Friday, I found myself thinking “Lord, are we going to have enough helpers this week?”  And then, to my great surprise…..the helpers just kept pouring on in!

All camping gear on deck and ready to go!

Setting up Mt. Everest, complete with hiking boots and hiking sticks, and stuffed bears...

What is your real name, oh faithful VBS director???

I was reminded of a quote that I recently read by Mr. Rogers, the famous American minister who hosted a TV children’s program called Mr. Rogers neighborhood.

“When I was a boy and I would see scary thing in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of “disaster,” I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers - so many caring people in this world.” - Fred “Mr.” Rogers

Well, our helpers were amazing!  Teenagers who gave up their lazy summer mornings to be ready to leave home in the early morning, moms and dads who gave up vacation days and the Belgian national day, pregnant moms who were willing to get up and down off the floor in order to lead a group of kids one step closer to Jesus.  

Getting our kids to the cross, even during snack time ~

Even the Belgian flag showed up on 21 July, Belgian National Day!

It was all worth it, for moments like these...

Feeling totally blessed!

Best. VBS. Ever!

Thank you AIPC!

And at the end of the day, there were washers and dryers to move too ~ thanks helpers!

It's my favorite part of the movie!

I wish I could introduce you to H, a delightful little 9 year old who is trying to make a new start in a new language in a new school in a new country.  Add to this equation the fact that her family is now following Jesus and you can understand there is a lot of “new” going on in her 9 year old life.

While H’s parents are busy studying along with 20 other students in a course called Christianity Explored, we spend a lot of time together.  I’m often not needed for helping lead a small group among the adults, so my default mode is hanging out with the kids. And since her best friend P has moved further away and can’t regularly get to church, H has become my helper.  We clean up after lunch together, gather all the trash bags, and if there’s a film that is being shown to the adults, we often sneak back into the room to watch along with them.

Funny thing, though:  H knows the story line in the Jesus film so well that she took me by surprise this past Sunday.  She didn’t want to leave to help clean up, because she saw what part of the film was going to be shown.  “Barbara, can we stay to watch Jesus, please?  It’s my favorite part of the story!”  By now, my curiosity is seriously aroused.  How could this 9 year old, who has only ever seen the Jesus film in the last 7 months of her life since coming to Belgium, know that her favorite part of the story was coming up next?  But perhaps the more important question, and certainly the one that I could learn more about her, was “what was her favorite part of the story of Jesus?”

It should come, then, as no surprise, that the video clip that was being projected showed Jesus inviting the children to sit on his lap; Jesus teaching the disciples and parents to welcome the children in their space.  

Mark 10:13-16

Some people brought their children to Jesus so that he could bless them by placing his hands on them. But his disciples told the people to stop bothering him. When Jesus saw this, he became angry and said, “Let the children come to me! Don’t try to stop them. People who are like these little children belong to the kingdom of God.  I promise you that you cannot get into God’s kingdom, unless you accept it the way a child does.” Then Jesus took the children in his arms and blessed them by placing his hands on them. (Contemporary English Version)

This is her favorite part of the story, whether reading it in her first language Bible, or in her new Dutch children’s Bible, or watching it in the English version of the Jesus film with her first language subtitles.  It’s all about Jesus welcoming the children.

The pure delight of meeting Jesus as seen thru the eyes of children!

In whatever language you read it, it's always the same message...Jesus loves you!

Another friend's expression of Jesus' love through art ~

These words so reflect the message that we have to bring to our world

In her 9 year old little girl eyes, Jesus is a good teacher and yet he is also a kind man, one who welcomes children to come sit on his lap and who blessed them.  Perhaps it’s the image of an important teacher who welcomes children in his space (something that is not allowed in the religion of her homeland) that is so precious to her.  I’ll never know.  But this one thing I do know:  she can’t begin to understand the importance of the real lesson that is being taught to the adults through that video clip.  The lesson is about how we all have to approach our relationship to God with the wonder of a child approaching a father.  A child will approach a parent with respect, awe, with hands open to accept, seeking affirmation, love and blessing, and will love in return with an open heart, one not full of preconceptions and conditions, but a heart that is just eager to love.

My little friend H teaches me so much about God and her love for Jesus, purely by her faith and trust….the faith and trust of a child.  Wow.  I still have so much to learn!

Tell me....what's your favorite part of the story??

 

You gotta love Malaga!

So, for someone who struggles with the long, dark, rainy grey days of Belgian winter, it should came as no surprise that I was quite happy to go to Malaga, Spain, to attend an important gathering of people who care for refugees and asylum seekers across Europe.  Mediterranean sunshine was what I went looking for….which I found in abundance, but don’t be fooled that we had really warm temperatures every day.  I took a photo to prove this to Steve, just in case he wondered if I had really gone to this meeting or if I had spent 5 days sunbathing. For the record, the only time I got close to the “beach” was when we boarded the ferry to visit Ceuta. 

Temperature as we crossed the Mediterranean Sea....just for the record!

Getting ready to cross the Mediterranean Sea with our AIPC intern, Jan

We had to find something to entertain ourselves...after all, we left the hotel at 5am!

Before I left on this journey, I asked God to break my heart, to make me squirm in the comfort of my ministry world among refugees in Belgium, to feel the pain of the refugees who are trying to find a safe place to call home.  All it took was one quick ferry ride from mainland Europe, across the Mediterranean Sea, where at one point there were 3 very important countries (and continents) in my visual field:  Europe (Algecira, the port city where we boarded the ferry), Africa (Morocco on the horizon), and England (the rock of Gibraltar, which was fascinating!).  

Welcome to Ceuta, as seen from above, almost on the Moroccan side of the border

Kitchen clean-up in the sun....are we in Africa yet?

On the border

So many lose their lives trying to swim here to safety and Europe

 When we left the European continent behind us, going on over to yet another piece of Europe (Spain), in visiting Ceuta, I was also excited to be putting my feet on the African continent yet again….though, technically in Ceuta, you’re in Spain.  Make sure you go consult a map just now to see where it was that we landed.! We heard about the ministries there via our fellow RHP colleague, ate a simple meal together, washed up the dishes together with refugees from different corners of Africa, then set out to visit with others who are struggling to find a place to call home, a chance to build a future, or the gift of a friend.  As we huddled around on the beach with young African guys, (even in the sun, it was cold by the water!), serving tea and samosas, chatting, laughing, hearing their stories, crying as they shared how they couldn’t talk about crossing the Sea because it was so painful, God was with us.  We talked about dreams, how God speaks to us in our dreams, the dream of a homeland in Europe (one young guy even told me that he had a brother up in Belgium, and was dreaming of getting to Belgium to live there).    At one point, several in our group were just standing on the beach, because they didn’t have a common language to share with the guys.  They were our prayer partners, covering us with prayer as we continued our conversations.  Those of us who could speak French or another common language with these young guys just continued on, and it came to a point where we offered to pray for them.  So, there we were:  5 foreigners working among refugees, praying in 5 different languages for the 5 refugees who were standing in our midst.  The smiles and hand shakes and slaps on the back (guys to guys, that is!) sent us all on our way.

God continues to break my heart for the world that is lost.  Sometimes it is amongst refugees and those who are seeking asylum and a safe place to call home.  Sometimes it is in the midst of our church back in Belgium, as He keeps bringing people to faith who are able to lay down their burdens at the cross.  And sometimes, God even chooses to break my heart about myself.  I’m just so thankful that He’s the God who takes all the broken pieces of our lives and can put them back together.

I love my RHP prayer partner!

Most of the RHP roundtable participants...can you find me?

RHP Europe....trying to make a difference....for Jesus!

I LOVE MY CHURCH!

I’ve decided to include a few pictures of where we meet for “church” on a Sunday morning.  We rent space in the fine arts building of a local school here in Antwerp, and sometimes we’re just challenged to have a space that feels like a church ~ especially as the school prepares for their spring play.

This is my church??

Invasion of the cabaret guitar

Holy ground at AIPC

 A couple of weeks ago, as we began worship, I asked if anyone felt like they were at church right now, with all the props from the school’s stage that keep invading our space for worship.  And there was a loud shout from the back of the theater, “yes, this feels like church because we are the church!”  Reminds me of another time when during a children’s sermon, one girl was quick to point out that this was her school, but on Sundays, the church comes to her school.  And we were that church.

So, each Sunday as we drive onto the school campus, Steven and I pray that this school building would become holy ground, a place where the Holy Spirit would show up and bless our gatherings.  And He did that yesterday as we started another round of discipleship training.  We are bringing together some of our church leaders to work alongside the leaders of the growing group of new followers of Jesus coming from other lands and other religions.  Language is always a challenge, and we realized that this will be the case for this teaching as well, which is done in English but with subtitles in the language that speaks to the new believers’ hearts.  But they have the Bible in their heart language, and study guides for the teaching are also available in their heart language.  Bottom line:  We’re off to a great start!

Recently we had the opportunity to visit a cathedral in England.  Beautiful building.  Stained glass windows.  Organ.  Modern baptismal font that was also a place that exuded peace.  I loved the “church” building.  Perhaps one day I’ll find my place in a beautiful cathedral.  But for now, I’m quite at home in our “church” that meets in a school’s theater building.  Growing pains included.  It’s all part of being part of the body of Christ.  (For the record, I think I’m a left foot pinky toe: one that supports...)

God knows my name, God knows my every thought

Baptismal fount that exuded beauty and peace (and cool water!)

I never grow weary of stained glass windows

Check out the 4 women of the military who are celebrated in this photo!

 And that’s why I love my church.  We all bring what we’ve been gifted with, and are using it to teach others, to grow followers of Jesus, and to serve our Servant King.  What do you love about your church???

 

I got this photo by accident in the Spanish Synagogue in the Jewish Quarter in Prague