To Go or Stay

"I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,

O’er mountain or plain or sea.

I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord;

I’ll be what you want me to be."

As Adventists, we put a lot of emphasis on going where God wants us to go. One of our favorite verses to recite is “Go, therefore, and make disciples…” We sing songs that talk about “Going afar upon the mountain” and push for missionaries into go into ALL the earth.

Maybe it is because we feel that in going somewhere remote (be it on Kenya's Savannah or a rice field in China), we are becoming the brave souls that mission stories emphasize. Or is it because we feel that when we “go” we reach a higher spirituality than those who “stay.”

Yet is it possible that sometimes God calls us to stay?

This concept is somewhat new to me, perhaps because I’ve heard in church, “Go be a missionary! But if adventure, complete trust in God, and your relationship with Him isn’t strong enough...then I guess you can be a missionary wherever you are at.”

Okay, so maybe people haven’t actually said this but I think that sometimes this is the impression that is given. Yes, in the Bible we find stories of people like Daniel, Joseph, Little Maid, Paul, etc. that ministered to people far from home yet the Bible also tell stories of those who were called to stay. Jesus after all remained in Nazareth for 30 years before God called Him to begin His ministry. And then there are the stories like Elijah running from Jezebel where people ended up in trouble for going where God had not called them.

Going when God calls us to go and staying when God wants us to stay has been echoed by several of the staff here at Au Sable. With so many leaving camp for the summer and the discussion of plans for the future, I’ve thought even more about it.

Now before you start your protests, I don’t mean by any means that “staying” equals not doing anything. On the contrary, it means just as much work and intentionality as “going.” In fact by staying, there is sometimes an even a greater need for purpose and determination because it’s so easy to fall away from what God is calling us to do when we are not completely removed from our comfort zone. As pointed out by many, sometimes the hardest mission field is the one closest to home.

You see, it’s never been about the location when it comes to God’s calling. You could be at the perfect place for ministry yet if that’s not where God has called you, your efforts will be fruitless. Dare I even say it’s not about you, for God could use a million other ways to reach souls, but instead it’s about Him and the work He will do through you.

Which brings me to the whole “women’s ordination” thing…

What would happen if we put less emphasis on the person doing the work and instead focused on the One who has called that person to ministry and the work that He alone has ordained? Maybe the whole question about ordination would become just a bit less meaningful as we would suddenly realize that it is the commissioning of God on men and women that actually carries the importance. I could go on but that’s a subject for another post!

So what is the point of all these words? Simply that there is no difference where you work for God. What matters is the calling He has placed on your life and the way you respond to that call, whether it is to go or stay.

Believing Again

As I stare into the blackness surrounding, a tear trickles down my cheek. I drown out the chatter of the awaiting campers at the Friday night passion play and as I lean against the wall, everything else seems to fade away.

So this is the reason that I’m standing here now. You knew God, even when I doubted.

The backstory to this day begins at the very beginning of camp. As soon as I heard of the 3 Part Play that takes place every year at Au Sable, I knew I wanted to be a part of it. Once auditions rolled around, I couldn’t wait to try out for some of the major roles, but when casting was decided, I ended up with a small role in the Passion Play on Friday night. In selfishness, I began wondering why, when God knew I loves acting more than anything else in the world, He was only allowing me to act for less than 4 minutes per week.

Last Friday night I was with my girls at the gym when I noticed one of the girls sitting away from the group, obviously distraught. I walked over to sit down by her and asked her what was wrong. At first she didn’t say much, only keeping the conversation at surface level. Slowly her walls began to break down and she began to cry. She told me about her life, things she said she had never told anyone else before. Abuse, both mental, physical, and sexual, had been a part of her childhood and the guilt she had been carrying around because of this seemed more that such a young girl could handle. Yet this was her life, a life still filled with abuse. She had spent her life feeling like she was damaged goods and having been judged by those very people who were abusing her. As she opened up, she would ask me what she should do about these situations, so many of them impossible for there to be any fast or easy solution.

Although I talked with her for an hour and a half, you could tell that she was having a hard time understanding how God could love her. Although I wished that we could talk more, I had to leave her with another staff member that were part of the cabin family (staff that have been assigned to specific cabins so that they can interact with the campers) because the evening program was going to start in no time at all.

As I ran/walked the mile or so to the Pathfinder Pavilion, I kept thinking about our conversation and praying constantly for her. I rushed to get into my costume and quickly took out the braids that where there to create messy waves in my hair. As the overhead lights turned off and the campers began to file in, I finally had a moment to take it all in.

And that’s when I realized fully that my role in the passion play completely mirrored the feeling of this young girl. You see, my character was the woman caught in adultery. The shame and guilt my camper had felt her whole life echoed what this women (perhaps Mary Magdalene) experienced when thrown at Jesus’ feet.

Think about it. It’s one thing to be caught in sin and taken outside of the city to be killed. It’s a complete different thing to be brought to the most holy place in Jerusalem to a man who has already tried to save you, yet for whatever reason you’ve turned your back on Him and returned to the darkness. You know how you will be viewed in His eyes.

A hopeless cause.

Completely broken and beyond repair.

Getting what is rightly deserved.

How else could He view you?

But instead He is silent as those hypocritical, self-righteous men weave words of charm to trap Him as they have trapped you.  He’s thinking of their sins, not yours. Without spoken words, He silences their charges and with only the movement of His finger, He causes the stones to fall from their hands.

And then when it’s just you and Him, He picks you up from the ground and tells you that although He knows of your sins, He sees a better life for you to live. He loves you in spite of what you’ve done and nothing you could ever do would change that fact. And He’s waiting, waiting for you to make a decision to allow Him to take charge of your life and transform the life you’ve been living into one of completeness and joy.

When my camper stood up when the pastor called for those to stand who wanted to give their lives to Jesus for the first time and then walked to the front to show she wanted to be baptized, I couldn’t hold back a single tear. Through the play she had finally come to understand God’s amazing love and in our cabins journal, she wrote that she now believed again in a God out there who loved her no matter what.

That’s what camp ministry is all about: showing campers the love of Jesus so that they can believe in Him again, either for the first time or for the hundredth time. It's about showing them a love beyond anything they've ever experienced here on earth and making it real in their lives.

Finding the Words

Tears are flowing down her face as she leans against the bunk bed. The visible struggle on her face sets the tone for the decision she is trying to make. She says very little I stand beside her, my arm wrapped around her trembling shoulder. My mind races for the right words. How can I show her the right choice to make?

Oh God, now what do I say?

You know those moments that come out of nowhere and you’re searching for the right thing to say? Those times when you’re in a totally new situation and you don’t have the faintest idea what you should do or say?

Camp is all about those moments, and there’s no doubt that after another 5 weeks here the list of new experiences will increase! Yet some moments stand out more than other’s because you realize so clearly that it has nothing to do with you but all to do with Him. You experience that feeling of complete helplessness and slowly but surely feel the guiding hand of God instructing you with your every action.

Standing by that bunk bed, I felt completely unsure of myself. Our conversation had gone from talking about church clothes to what a relationship with Jesus is all about (something I know could only be the work of God.) She had been quiet and thoughtful all morning but I never in a million years expected the conversation to take such a turn. Sure, this was a girl that had spent most of the week goofing off with her new found friends, but up until that moment, she had rarely, if ever, shown a real desire for spiritual things. As the conversation began to take a spiritual turn, a question popped into my head, “Have you ever accepted Jesus into your life?” At first I shook it off, thinking that it wasn’t the right time to ask such a personal question. I mean, after all, a few minutes ago she had been trying to convince me that wearing athletic shorts to church would be okay. Was this really the right moment? Although I was hesitant, I asked that question. She lowered her eyes and responded that she hadn’t ever exactly done that.

Around this time, tears began filling her eyes, and I left the bed that I was sitting on to stand beside her. I tried to think about what I had heard in sermons and workshops about leading someone to Christ. I’ll never forget how as the silent pauses would grow, I’d offer a quick prayer up to heaven and suddenly I’d have an idea about what I could say.

I’ll never forget the moment she finally spoke to say that she wanted to say yes to Jesus but that she was scared. A few moments later, she accepted Him into her life. There is such joy to see a camper decide to follow Jesus for a counselor that I can’t imagine what it must be like for God to watch as one of His beloved children accept the love He has been offering to them for so many years. I’d only known this girl for one short week, yet she had quickly become someone that I wished to see accept Jesus and having the opportunity to see it happen brings tears to my eyes.

How amazing is our God! He works on hearts that seem unable to be reached and allows us to take part in His ministry. He gives us the words and ideas when we have none. He is our everything and the strength that we can always run to. So next time you don’t know how to respond to someone’s questions, offer up a quick prayer to heaven and watch as God begins His amazing work.

Calling for Help

The girls are at it again; tempers rise and wining begins. Taking a bath at the end of the day results in comments like, “I can’t do it! Why can’t we just take one tomorrow? I wanna go home!” Going to the undesired activity produces responses such as, “Why do we have to do this? We never get to do anything fun. It’s not fair!!!”

While the Adventurer girls fuss and whine, I find myself sending up a desperate prayer:

“God help me!”

Perhaps they are the most common and, above that, the most important words a counselor can utter.

As a counselor, one learns that there are some things that can be “handled” by yourself but even more that are out of your control. You may decide that the day is going to be great fun out on the lake but…then it starts raining and your campers begin complaining about staying inside. Or you want to have a special worship one evening but…it takes you forever to arrive back at the cabin after campfire and by the time everyone is showered and ready for worship, 11:00 pm has come and gone. And in that madding rush, don’t forget to set your alarm for 5:30 am!

It’s during those times when nothing seems to be going your way and the campers are revealing their true colors that you realize anew that you’re really not cut out for this job. Your credentials may have looked nice but nothing could have prepared you for camp. Pretty fast you figure out that there is no way you will get through this summer by your own strength. And that is when we send up the prayers for help, when all hell seems ready to break loose.

But why?

Why do we wait until the storm has hit and the waves are rolling to call for Jesus’ help?

Maybe it’s because we are just like the disciples on Lake Galilee. The moment that storm began to form, they could have wakened Jesus and said, “Lord, we think we’re pretty experienced fishermen and have battled many a storm, but we need your help anyways.” But no, they decided to battle the winds and the rains until just before the boat was about to sink and then cry, “Lord, we’ve tried to battle this storm by ourselves for quite some time but now we’re going to die so help us now, okay?!”

Calling on God for help before things become chaotic is something that I know I need to work on. I’m the type that hates to ask anyone for a favor unless I know there is no way I can do something without them. Even then whenever I ask I feel horrible about asking. Although I know asking God for help is never a bother to Him, it’s still in my nature to go through the day trying to rely on my strength and power.

The thing is, God shouldn’t just be God of the storms and trials but also the God of the peace and the calm. Jesus should be Lord of our lives when our world seems to be coming apart but also when we have a world of wonderful possibility in front of us. He’s our help in time of trouble but He is just as powerful and essential in time of joy.

During one of those times of trouble here at camp, I send out a text message to friends asking for prayer and one of my friends Christine reminded me of a verse I had learned in Sabbath School many years before. “Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit says the Lord of Host.”

This is easy to believe when it’s obvious that there was no way we could have done something by ourselves but do we believe this even when it seems like everything is all going according to our plans and wishes? Do we really believe that it’s only by the power of God that we can do any true good in this world?

Opportunity Knocks

The Christmas lights have been turned out. Even the girl’s flashlight have been put away and all is peace and quiet. The camper’s bags have been packed and on top of their beds sit their clothes for tomorrow, the day when they finally get to see their parents or guardians again! “12:17 am”, my clock tells me as I lay down to sleep. It’s been a late night with the special “girl’s party” we had to close out the week and then story telling as they fell into exhausted sleep. But I’m not quite ready for bed.

Silently, I walk to each girl’s bed. Gently, I place my hands on their shoulder and softly whisper a prayer for each of these girls, my girls for the week. They’re so tiny, the youngest being only 7 and the oldest not quite 10. So much of life they have seen yet how much more they have yet to face. As I pray, I wonder what battles each one may someday face. There’s no telling so although I pray for some things specifically, the rest of my words paint broad strokes over their future lives.

I walk back to my bed and sit down on the edge. I know I need to go to sleep but these girls are still on my mind, and one questions keeps ringing in the back of my mind.

“Have I done enough?”

I try to push it aside as I feel tears gathering in my eyes but now that I’ve begun to wonder, there’s no getting rid of the questions.

“Was I always Jesus to them? Did I always reveal His love to them?”

“Were all their questions answered and were the answers I gave easy enough to understand and take to heart?”

“What opportunities did I miss because I was too tired or busy? Was one of my girls ready to accept Jesus when a mistake of my own distracted her from that choice?”

“Did I give it my all? Did I do all that I could?”

At times I know I could have done more. Perhaps someone with more Biblical knowledge could have given better answers and someone more in tuned to the Holy Spirit could have seen opportunities I might have missed.

Yet it’s not the opportunities missed that we focus on. Yes, they’re important to acknowledge and avoid in the future, but the opportunities capitalized on are what have the most value and prepare us for further work.

It’s the deep talks about the God’s gift of freewill as we walked back from the night time meetings that the girls would continue to ask questions about and eventually begin repeating it back to me and the other campers as similar questions came up throughout the week.

It’s the canoeing trips for fun turned into conversation about the purpose of baptism and how salvation and baptism fit together.

It’s the simple questions, such as what did a picture of a snake and a piece of fruit have to do with the Bible that turned into a retelling of the plan of salvation for a girl who didn’t know that story very well.

Now as another week rolls along, I pray that God will show me similar opportunities to reach my girls this week. Will I miss the mark sometimes? Probably, but I trust that God is a big enough God to cover my mistakes and reveal Himself to each camper this week.

Worthless Gold

Gold was everywhere! Splendor and beauty (and a bit of creepiness, too) dazzled the eyes. Every corner seemed to vie for your attention.

Yet all I saw was complete emptiness.

All completely worthless.

For our day off on Thursday, our group traveled to the city of Salvador to sightsee in one of the oldest cities in Brazil. Walking the streets of historic Salvador was in a way, stepping into a different time. Many of the building and streets could have been located in Spain and besides the clothing of the people around you, one felt like they were on a movie set. And the people milling about certainly were interesting to watch (from a human statue getting his paint on to a cross-dressing man.) Yet these interesting people were not what struck me that day.

Instead, it was a church.

The São Francisco Church was unlike anything I had seen before. Nearly every inch of this cathedral was overlaid with gold. From every corner was statues of angels and men staring down at you and watching your every move. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows as our group marveled at such an interesting place.

As I took pictures something kept ringing in my mind. Year after year people had come to this place, magnificent yet cold and dark, trying to win the favor of God. The reason for all the gold was again to earn the good will of their God. Did those who worshiped there feel unimportant and completely out of place in this cathedral, causing them to believe that they were barely on the mind of God and that He could never accept them? How many people decided to give up their faith because they realized that this kind of God isn’t worth serving or believing in? How many people went to their graves, giving all their money to the church and still wondering if they had earned the grace of God?

Yet all the gold in the world could never win His favor. No place of worship we build can ever earn us an honored place in heaven. You see, God is not like the cathedral we found in Salvador. You don’t have to whisper when you approach His throne. Every burden on your heart can be poured out to Him even if it includes tears and questioning. While God is magnificent, He revealed Himself to us as a poor, humble man. God doesn’t wait for us to come to Him through our own good works because He has already come down to us. Even though He has more majesty and glory than any earthly mind can imagine, He tells us that we can come boldly before His throne and that despite our shortcomings He still wants us to be a part of His kingdom.

So Tell Me about Brazil...

            “How many baptisms did you have?” Oh, how I dread this question. As people tell me of double digit numbers ready to take the steps towards baptism, I think back to my church. About the number I have to “show.” None. Nada. Not a single one. So tell me, does this make me a failure? Have I completely failed at the work God had for me to do in increasing the number of Adventists in Brazil?

            Originally I wasn’t assigned to the Caseb church. In the confusion of the first night, Christine and I were mixed up and sent to the “wrong” churches. I didn’t realize this mistake until I arrived back and Christine informed me of the fact. Both of us were uncertain of how we should proceed and prayed that evening and morning that God would show us what we should do (either switch back to our original churches or stay in the church we had arrived at.) In the end, we decided to stay in our churches, knowing that God could work though this "mistake."

            My church didn’t have any extra ordinary experiences while I was there. We never had people weeping over their sins or people walking up at the end of the meeting proclaiming that they were going to completely turn their lives around. No, the people whose lives were impacted were not those who had never heard the Gospel. It was the lives of young children, 20-year-members, and also me.

            When I first walked into my church on Friday night, I quickly looked around to see if there were any children. Studying to be an Elementary teacher, I was hoping to interact with children of that age. While there was a group of high school aged young people, I didn’t see a single child in the audience. As the other preachers reunited with stories of all the adorable children in their church, I wondered why God had put me in a church with so few children. Even after meeting more children in my church on Sabbath morning, I felt as though there was not an easy way to communicate with them, knowing very little Portuguese. Yet though drawing, giving of gifts, talking through my translator, and simply giving hugs after every meeting, we became friends and when I had to leave, they were some of the people that I hated to leave the most. Even though they were young, they would pay attention during the meeting. One night as I was giving an altar call for those to come forward who wanted to accept Jesus, Camille, a 12 year old girl, was the first to come up.

            It wasn’t just the young who seemed impacted by the meetings. People who had been going to church for years were touched by God’s Spirit. After preaching the final sermon about Heaven, my translator told me that a man who had been going to church for 20 years had come up to him afterwards and said that he had heard this sermon in a completely new way and that it had moved him to tears. While talking about the reunion we will experience when Jesus comes back, both with those who have died in Jesus and those who are now separated by oceans, tears were shed by many, including myself, as we all found ourselves looking forward to that glorious day.

            You see, I was changed as well. I have a whole different understanding of what ministry is all about, and I’m not talking about the preaching aspect of ministry. Yes, I learned a lot about how sermons should be preached through trial and error, and I certainly gained insight from my local church as I participated in visitations. However, what I realized how ministry cannot be defined simply as the act of preaching or visiting people’s homes. Ministry is a lifestyle that is constantly happening and cannot be stopped even for an instant. I also learned that ministry is exhausting. It’s one of the most rewarding things you can ever do and there is a special energy I believe God gives, but ministry also can completely drain you if you don’t take time to rest and recharge your relationship with God. You can be so involved with God’s work that you actually feel as though you don’t have time to spend in communion with Him.

            I leave Brazil with a heavy heart but a heart filled with love for the people in Brazil. Having left brothers and sisters in Christ at the Caseb church, I praise God that He put me in the “wrong” church. There is not a doubt in my mind that the mix-up that took place was actually God's original plan.

But, have I failed in my ministry because I did not baptize any new members? First off, isn't this question flawed? It is never “I” who has success in ministry. Secondly, when has success for God only been measured by baptisms? Yes, the purpose of mission campaigns may be to baptize people into the Adventist church, yet success cannot be measured by such small standards. Echoed during multiple morning meetings with our group was the fact that we won’t necessarily see the results of our labor. So even with “nothing to show,” nothing has changed the passion in my heart for ministry. This has confirmed more than ever that I want my career to be my ministry, that there is no other way I could ever be happy with anything else. Mission work isn’t just for “heathens” but is also for the church as well. Those of us in the church can be touched and changed no matter how many times we hear the Gospel story.

            And that my friends is the power of the Gospel! It never grows old or runs dry. No matter how many times we speak of Christ’s love, we can still be amazed at the depth that it reaches and the width that it stretches. So even though every night for the past two weeks I’ve talked about this amazing God and His ever reaching love, my mouth still wants to speak of His love and my hands want to reveal His character to every person I meet.