Dear David Platt

        

       

Most days feel like a fight. South Sudan is a brutal place to live. The dog days have become dog years and yes, we need help Mr. President. The fields are black unto harvest. We have seen so many come to know Jesus in such a short period of time. We are a poor representation of God’s love, but…he chose us and is conforming us into a better image of his son, a better image of his love for the Dinka people. Africa/America/theChurch is changing so quickly and our “re-orgs” have not kept up. Eight years ago I went thought the IMB selection process. I prepared and trained and then did it again. Like all the rest, I worked hard to get here. But, few things in my preparation actually prepared me for anything over here. We were trained to play kickball, but when we showed up for the game it was kickboxing. Yeah, we were surprised.  

My first year on the field I would pray "God don't come now, let us work a little longer so more will be saved." Sounded good at the time, but then I learned about population growth. Less of the world is saved now than when I was 23. We are moving in the wrong direction! My prayer now, "God come quickly before more are lost." But we’re still here and we must work while there’s still light. There is simply no time to waste. We must find a deeper obedience to His Commission. We are not getting it done when we are not working together. We have become a disjointed giant. The church has become an island nation and we reflect this all over the world. There is so much competition for every dollar in the offering plate. Member services has taken over the command to go and we reflect this as an organization. I cannot reach the Dinka alone and I don't want to. I want the church to reach the Dinka. And the population of our area is only a few million in the sea of billions unreached with the message of Christ. 

  Where do we go from here? Forward. How should we change? More into the image of Christ. I’ll let you work out the details. Welcome to the team David. 

-Robert 

Do You Care?

The cliff was steep and difficult to climb. A few were saved only by being pulled by others who had already made it to the rock. So many drowned. So many died never knowing in which direction to swim to safety. In the night the water looked black, but I could make out the silhouettes of thousands of people. I was sure there were many, many more I could not see. I looked and saw only this one great rock rising out of the water. The ones that were close by were saved first. They held on to the rock as it rose out of the water. I hear a few shouting to those still in the water to swim towards to rock. Others stayed near the water and while holding on the the rock reached as far as possible to help others to safety. Still, others, so many others simply disappeared into the black water. Their heads went under. I did not see them again. 

As I looked upon the rock, I became confused. Some had sat down and were complementing each other on their clothes and telling funny tales. Had these people, just saved out of darkness, begun to entertain each other? Some had formed circles and were discussing various topics. I overheard one middle aged women talking about how she missed the water and said that she wished she had stayed in the blackness; something about how she preferred the “freedom of the water?” I must have misheard. I looked and some of the ones that had originally been shouting into the water for others to come to the rock had turned and were talking to the ones already on the rock about how to enjoy their new home as much as possible. Could this be? They had turned their backs on the drowning. Few were even calling people to the rock anymore. What had happened? 

  My eyes were then drawn to a small group of people. A few were removing their shoes and clothes, anything weighing them down. I was intrigued and wondered what they would do next. The first one looked straight out into the water. His face stoic, but somehow joyful. He lowered this stance and took a deep breath. What I saw next I will never forget. He was in a dead sprint moving through the crowds at an incredible speed. He got closer to the edge…surly he would slow his pace. No, he was running faster as he reached the cliff’s end. As he reached the edge, he threw his arms out in front and kicked his body as far away from the rock as he could. He was falling back into the water. But, why had he done this? What was the point of entering the blackness once again? I looked again as he splashed back into the water. My eyes strained to see, for he had jumped quite a distance away from the rock and was swimming like a madman. Then I understood. He grabbed one, then two others and pointing them to the rock he screamed "there is safety on the rock." Those that still had the strength swam along side him, those who could no longer swim he kept their heads above the water dragging them towards safety. After fighting against the currents and waves, this small band reached the base of the rock and helped each other to the top. The man, dripping with water and sweat, did not slow his pace. Again he pushed his way through the crowns and flung his body back into the water…and others followed.   

(Adapted from "Who Cares" by General William Booth)

We Millennials–Part III; Hope through Change

          Millennials, we have to get a grip on our generation! The boomers lied to us and the Xers kept us down. Welcome to capitalism. Now what do we do? Well…after shark week is finished, we need to talk about life. We are a culture that has little interest in listening to others, but will we listen to ourselves? We might. We have been fed a stream of synthetic experiences in our virtual world of entertainment for far to long. We crave authenticity. We crave experience. We are very open about our emptiness. We can’t trust our professors or the books they write, but we can trust our own senses. Once again, seeing has become believing and reality can be experienced. We must quickly plug the many holes in our post-modern worldview with truth, where ever it my be found.
-Cont.

  This is my story of plugging holes and searching for truth. As an elder millennial I feel a responsibility to tell my story to you. 

I have walked many paths in my 31 years on this earth. I started in a Texas neighborhood, then on to a Memphis suburb. I was raised on a Tennessee farm and left home at 20 for the mountains. I was on my own and looking for something that I could give my life to; something that would help me life my life outside the consumerism and partying that had consuming my friends. I wanted a cause. I wanted a fight. I wanted to fight. I wanted to live and die for something bigger than me. I wanted my life to count! My culture wanted my money and loyalty, but offered nothing more than a moment of entertainment. 

At twenty, I headed out on my own and found myself working in a small North Carolina town called Andrews. I had no education and little ambition. But I wanted or than MTV and Abercrombie and Fitch. In Andrews I met a group of men that lived their lives completely different than anything I had seen in my life. These men taught me devotion. They taught me that living for others was better. I learned the teachings of Jesus and memorized the words of Scripture. For the first time I spent large amounts of time in meditation and worship. I was becoming what I am now. 

I believed the truth found in Jesus. Truth is not a system or church; it is not a idea or a book. It is a PERSON named JESUS. I became impassioned with this new truth I have been given. I spent a year trying to fit this truth into my life and found that not only my life was changing, but I was changing into a different person. Then the game changed when I read these words of Jesus written by his disciple, a man named John.

God didn’t send Jesus to earth to condemn us, but to save us through him. If you believe in him, you are not condemned, but everybody who does not believe stands condemned, because they have not believed in the name of Jesus. –John 3:17-18 (Paraphrased) 

        These ancient words changed my life. The phrase STANDS CONDEMNED burned into my heart. I had heard there were some people in the world that had not heard the story of Jesus. I did not know much, but I knew that Jesus loved them and wanted them to know it. So I went into a time of prayer and mentorship as I prepared to GO. I was given two names Yaminahua and Jurua. The first was the name of a tribe, the second was the river where they lived. 

A small plane dropped me and my dear friend  Efrain Mosquera into the Jungle. There we taught Jesus and saw other lives changed as well as our own. My life continued to change during the 2 years that I lived in the Jungle. May 2008, I walked my last jungle path and returned to America. I walked back through Texas, Tennessee, and North Carolina. And in the U.S. I realized my old friends knew a different person; a person that I have left in the jungle. The old me was too scared to move forward so I left him behind. 

Still, there were others who stood condemned. I knew I couldn't stay in the US and ignore them. My truth had become so real. I had been changed into another man. I had seen too much to ever turn back. I now live with my wife and baby boy in South Sudan. Yeah, it’s tough. And somedays, life beats me absolutely senseless. But I have peace and coherence in my life and I am happy. My emptiness has been filled. The way I see it, life is short; for everybody so I keep on telling the Story and pointing people towards the truth and that TRUTH is a person named JESUS.      

Millennial Invasion Part II–a bit more serious

          
          So much conversation is happening about the “new” generational differences. The Boomers, Xers, millennials, and Gen-Z are understood in the light of social science like never before. The blame/credit lies namely with my generation, the millennials. We millennials are the first generation to write about our own generation in real time. We have become tremendously self aware and ironically motivated to do little about our vices. We know who we are, but we also know that we are not sure we want to be that way. The economic down turn was a huge #bummer. We feel betrayed by school guidance counselors and parents alike. Side note: It is not advisable to take much advise at all from school advisers. That person experienced an unexpected career change when they became advisers. I'm just saying. We are the generation with major trust issues. In High School we were promised that if we got a collage degree we would have a life of security and comfort. In reality, we now have billions of dollars in student loans that we simply can't pay back because we can’t make as much money as our parents. We thought our parents income would be our starting point. No one told us about paying our dues.

So where are we now? We are the generation with massive amounts of energy and confidence.  Unfortunately, our potential is waning as Gen-Z is quickly at our heals. And yes, we are intimidated by their potential, but we still own the internet…for a few more years. We are the generation that cares, but we care for no one more than we care for ourselves. At least we care more than the Xers, but they are still our bosses and the boomers own the companies. 

Millennials we have to get a grip on our generation! The boomers lied to us and the Xers kept us down. Welcome to capitalism. Now what do we do? Well…after shark week is finished, we need to talk about values. We are a culture that has little interest in listening to others, but will we listen to ourselves? We might. We have been fed a stream of synthetic experiences in our virtual world of entertainment for a long time. We crave authenticity. We crave experience. We are very open about our emptiness. We can’t trust our professors or the books they write, but we can trust our own senses. Once again, seeing has become believing. We must quickly plug the many holes in our post-modern worldview with truth, where ever it my be found.              

Grace>Guilt

 
     As I sit here in the midst of 15 American collage students recently arrived in Africa, I'm hearing the word GUILT over and over. It is a common process. Many Americans have no idea how the average African lives. They are shocked when they see a child bathing on the side of the road or an old woman with 50+lbs on her head. But what are they guilty about?
     These students don't feel guilty about the lives of Africans, but about their own American lives. The question "WHY" needs to be answered.
     Why does Angela from Atlanta have a more secure life than Fatima from Tanzania?
I could give answers from books I've read on psychology, sociology, and politics. But these are not good enough for everybody. Yes, there is still a lot of corruption. Slavery, human trafficking, genocide, and starvation are a reality for much of the world, but not for Angela. Her culture has different problems. So, why does God allow some people to have a long comfortable life and others have a short difficult life? Hmmm.
     I remember one day in the jungle of Peru a man asked me a question I will never forget, "White man, how long have your people lived out from among the trees?" I had to think about the question for a moment, before responding, "Pablo, we have lived 1,500 years in the open ground." What a question. What a sobering moment for me, a 23 year old American. But, there was a time when northern Europeans did live in nomadic family groups. Our lives were filled with hardships and violence. Atlanta was not built in a day. When I look at our two cultures, I see two very different levels of progress. I am from a world of microchips and refrigeration; my friend, from a land of earth and spears. My culture has migrated many times; Pablo, lives in his native land. He lives in the ebb and flow of hunger and disease. I do not.
      In writing this story, I am looking 8 years back and I have learned much since then. I hope Pablo's culture will one day have access to good medical care. I hope that they will not live with seasonal hunger year after year. And I don't want my family to live like his. I have searched for answers and I have found only GRACE.
     By grace we have education and healthcare. By grace we have cooperative societies and equality. And by grace we have been given the opportunity to see other societies become more accountable and responsible. It is my conviction that following the teachings of Jesus is the greatest change for the good any society could make. I am not saying the message of the church, but of Jesus. Now, I live in a country tormented by death. South Sudan is under staggering oppression from hunger and violence. How can I help? What is the best way to make a difference in South Sudan? I believe that Jesus changes lives, lives change families, and families change societies. Matthew Parris was a brilliant commentator and staunch atheist, however, even he could not deny the unbelievable change that Christianity can make.  

    "I’ve become convinced of the enormous contribution that Christian evangelism makes in Africa:   sharply distinct from the secular NGOs…Education and training alone will not do. In Africa  Christianity changes people’s hearts. It brings a spiritual transformation. The rebirth is real. The change is good." -Matthew Parris

The world's wounds are festering with infections. Please move quickly past the Guilt. Guilt will keep you moving forward for such a short time! But grace sustains for generations. I am here not because I feel guilty about my Americanness, but because I was shown the grace to make a difference.





         

All You Need to Know About the Millennial Invasion

     There has been so much talk lately about our millennial generation. We are a unique group of young people and only becoming more unique. We are all uniquely, unique in various ways. That is what makes us different from others. We like to analyze our world. Then after thinking about something for whole minutes we write about it and then look at pictures of cats doing funny things and then back to abstract philosophy. If you are a bit lost, wiki can provide some good info on who we are and how you can better relate to us on our terms.
     We millennials crave authenticity and experience. We are jealousy for a cause and love to make our voices heard. We hold the older generations in high regard because they pay taxes so we don't have to and that is a big help. We love the president because "RT: @mr.president is making our world a better place." Someday we will all be presidents and he makes us feel like we too can also run the country. We have a little more tolerance for authority than our older siblings, the Gen Xers and we think they're pushy and wear baggy clothes.
     We can be hard to figure out, if you are not looking at life from our perspective. We need a cause. We need a rallying point. Why, you ask? That way we never get lonely. We long for something to bring us together and stave off boredom. We did not have the luxury of living during the protest age of the 60s and 70s so we protest because it looks like fun. Hey, why not occupy Wall Street we don't have anything better to do. No honestly, if you don't have a job and have differed on $200,000 of student loans, hanging out with all your friends on any street is really nice. We also have the added bonus that dogs no longer bite street protesters. So where's the downside?
     And if that is not enough, there are children in Uganda that need our help. If we retweet their cause and wear their images, we can help stop a psychotic madman from making them have another bad day. This is only the start. As soon as we can get it together we will [each] start an NGO and save the world. The whales and Tibet are too small for us. We need to save it all. And don't question our motives because that's not very important. And don't question our manliness. I mean how could you question our manliness, we have beards to beat the band. What more do you need?
    If you don't believe us, it is because you don't believe in us and that hurts our feelings. Why would you treat someone like that? We know the problems that need to be solved and with a Mac, ESV, flat white, and skinnies we will make our voices heard. We will blog our way to a better world. If you don't like what we have to say, then don't repost it, but please don't criticize. We have heard enough of that, we were raised by Boomers.
So, if you want our opinions, check Facebook. If you want our input...that is what we have been saying all along. But still, we need you to tell us we're great. If you don't, you are a bad parent even if you are our boss or professor. Yes, we are hardwired to network. You call it "social media" (we don't even use the phrase) we call it communication. Yes, we do value conversation. We value two or three conversations at a time. Face to face is also fun as long as the freely traded all organic coffee has plenty of ice and sugar. You may think we're shallow, lazy, and noncommittal but that is because you don't really know us. I'm on level 871 of Candy Crush. Does that sound noncommittal to you? Who's lazy now?

Bullying and the Bullied

Bullying has recently come to the forefront of pop-culture. And the issue is receiving some much needed attention. Everyone from Jamie Foxx to Desmond Tutu has weighted in on the conversations. I am a bit confused to see why nearly all the attention is is focused on helping kids deal with being bullied. The U.S. Government defines bullying as:

 Unwanted, aggressive behavior among school aged children that involves a real or perceived power imbalance. 

     Why do we choose to reduce the cultural issue to the school yard and social media of school aged children? The problem is much much bigger. We need to take a step back and look at the issue a bit more objectively. Does our American culture make room for this type of aggressive behavior outside the school yard, yet criticize the very same behavior when children simply imitate adults. What does the Bible say about bullying? How should handle the larger culture issue? 

The Bible says much about the issue of how we should treat one another. The "Golden Rule" comes to mind, "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you" (Matthew 7:12). I cannot tell you how many times I heard this expression during my childhood. And so often I wished that the guy picking on me knew it as well as I did. But there has to be more than simply giving anecdotal advice to the kid getting picked on. King Solomon said, “drive out a scoffer, and strife will go out, and quarreling and abuse will cease” (Proverbs 22:10). Think about this in the context of social media. Facebook is a powerful platform for bullies. Twitter allows many horribly embarrassing comments and photos to hurt adults and children. 

The bullies are no longer the big kids with an attitude. They are often individuals that feel no other recourse is available to resolve conflict or pain. How easy it has become the belittle others with complete remote anonymity. This problem is sharply felt in the lives of our kids, but it is an adult culture that feeds into the patterns of our youth. We must drive out a scoffer, but with what? The answer is found in the words of Paul.      

If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. -Romans 12:20-21

     The aggression and hurt that is passed around on social media must be displaced by love and encouragement. Yes, the bullies need to be punished and misbehavior should not be tolerated by those in authority, but what can we all do to reverse the culture of insult retribution? Make Facebook a place of positive communication. Create a culture among your friends where the scoffer is not inspired to tear down others. Do not allow an insult to go unchecked in our adult lives; and in doing this, we can set an example and standard for our children and youth culture in general.     

The Reality of Suffering

Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I 

am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake 

of his body, that is, the church. -Paul (Colossians 1:24)

This can be an extremely confusing verse. Was the atonement of Jesus not enough? The scriptures show us that the death of Jesus was sufficient. Paul's own word make this clear. So what is Paul talking about? 
     Paul is making reference to his own sufferings for the sake of Christ and the unreached being the beneficiaries of this suffering. When you go to the unreached and stand before them having endured trials and hardships just to make Jesus known among them, you can say, "In me behold the love of God, as I sacrifice to come to you and preach to you, and risk my life."  -Piper
     What is lacking in the sufferings of Christ is that millions of people don't know Jesus suffered for them. In 2014 the person of Jesus cannot suffer for the Dinka. That piece of history has passed. And the very suffering of Christ has been passed to us, the church.       When you go to that unreached people group and risk everything, including the lives of your children. You are making the sufferings of Christ complete. You show people the incarnational Christ in you and through you they will see Jesus suffer for them... (I have to stop here as tears fill my eyes. This has been our greatest honor in life. To have the opportunity to suffer together as a family is an unimaginable joy.) This does not mean the suffering will be easy. The pain still burns and the wounds still bleed, but we suffer for Christ with His own strength. When my two month old baby was vomiting blood, I was scared out of my mind. I thought I might loose my son. But, I found strength in my wife as we both found strength in Jesus. When gunfire erupted all around our home we fell upon the will of God as we dropped to the floor. For LOVE we endure and show others the sufferings of Christ made evident in our lives and in the lives of our families. What a great blessings to be given anything by Christ. Even hardship if it comes from Jesus is a blessed and wonderful gift.        

a Linguistic take on Discipleship

The world of our experience must be enormously simplified and generalized before it is possible to make a symbolic inventory of all our experiences of things and relations, and this inventory is imperative before we can convey ideas. -Edward Sapir

To put simply the words of Sapir, words are poor communicators. In the context of discipling and mentoring we have to remember that there is no substitute for bringing someone along side you as you live your life. I am all for meetings and conversations, but lets not make this a substitute for real life shared. To teach someone to obey Christ we much use our lives as the medium. We have to know that true discipleship true Christlike discipleship is about time and experience. This is why Jesus came. The prophets had been teaching about Jesus for hundreds of years but man did not truly know Jesus until he came to live with us.  

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. -John 1:14

The people we disciple/mentor need to see us about the work of God. We need to give them something to see. Something that they can model their lives after. This cannot be done over Skype or email. These are great ways to communicate but not the best. So, make yourself available to those who need you and your words. Yes, this takes time but it seems like this is how God planned it! Our example has to be complete. Our words explain our lives and our lives expound our words. May we never say, "do as I say, not as I do." My generation has had enough of that. We see through the lie. We have to say with Paul:

Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ. -I Cor 11:1

only then will our words have strength. Only then can we move the church out of the mire of hypocrisy. We know the words of Christ were true because his life proved their worth. Now, we are not Christ and we will fall, but we must get back up as we follow the example of Christ and show others how to return to the truths we teach.
  

The Birth of a Church

Dhel is strong even for a Dinka. He is broad through the shoulders and sets upon a set of powerful legs. The traditional marks on his forehead tell an untold story of cattle keeping, raids, and skirmishes fought with other tribes that inhabit the swamps of Warrap. His early youth as a cattle keeper came to an end and the season to take a wife had come. 

Dhel choose a young woman as strong as him. She told him he would make a good husband but he was lacking one thing. He had no training in the Word of God. She made this a requisite to her entering his home. With his new inspiration, Dhel came to our training. Bob and Nancy Calvert had traveled to Kuajok to teach our young leaders how to communicate the stories from the word of God and plant a church. After a week’s training Dhel returned home to Oun-Abyei. There he began to tell the stories he had just learned. The people liked the stories and many came to hear. The Dinka Rek do not yet have the Old Testament translated into their language; for most, this was the first time to here the story of creation, Abraham, and Noah. Upon hearing these stories more than thirty believed for the first time the truths of Gods Word. 

The next Friday Moses came the my house and said, “Robert, there is now a church in Oun-Abyei.” The following Sunday Moses and I went to see this young church. We appointed leaders and saw the baptism of 35 Dinka Rek who are now identified as followers of Christ. 

Pray for the new church in Oun-Abyei. 

Now starts the persecution.   

Update On The Current Meandering of the Lanes

These past few months have been a challenge. Our lives are lived in the pendulum of extremes. Our difficult times are brutal and our good times are elating. This is part of who we are. I will go back and unpack a few of these events in subsequent posts but for now I am wanting to catch you up on where we are in reverse order. So make a cup of coffee and enjoy the next four minutes. 
We are currently in Johannesburg, South Africa for meetings with our organizations. Jo'burg is cold and we have been loving the chill. Shep on the other hand is concerned with the temperatures. We attempted to condition this equatorial child to the cooler weather by placing him in our freezer three times a day (this last fact is completely untrue). 
Shep has enjoyed the interaction with the other kids. He loves to stand in the midst of the playground and watch the others play. I find this interesting because in Sudan the roles are reversed and the local children generally watch him play. The children here all speak english and my son speaks an odd form of pidgin gibberish, but he has encountered little trouble in the making of friends. 

Our travel to South Africa was nothing short of an adventure. We had planed to make the drive to Wau and catch a flight, but the plane had a mechanical issues and our tickets were canceled. Maridith went into overdrive finding an alternate means of travel. The most efficient option would be to charter a small plane. The least would be to travel by foot, but we estimated this would take six years and we would need to travel with a small militia, which was available for a price. After some discussion we opted to give the boys a raincheck and travel by air, which makes for a less interesting story, it was a good flight nonetheless. I found Juba calm and after tasting the pizza–the best in the country–I understood the abundance of soldiers on the streets. The next day we traveled on to Nairobi and then to Entebbe. Entebbe is a happy place where Mrs. Renee had prepared the most delicious of meals centered around a tender pig. Still after all these years pork takes me home. Being southerner we love pork and I guess if I had to be cast out of the body of a man, I too would choose the body of a swine (please don't think on that for too long). 
Ok, where was I? Yes, Sudan. We labored in Kuajok for only a short time before we saw many lives changed. We had the privilege of hosting Bob and Nancy Calvert last month. Bob led a training for local church leaders and planters. Nancy led the teaching for the women. It was an excited time for us all and a landmark in the work with the Dinka. I will introduce you to one young man named Dhel and the young church he planted in his home...Shoot I got to go. Stay t(y)uned and I will get his story up asap. 
-Much Love                       

Be Bold

But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea andSamaria, and to the end of the earth.” -Acts 1:8

            My prayer for you, if you are a Christian, is that you would know your own strength and not be weighed down by sin. Life can be scary. I have seen my share of scary days. You have to remember that you were given power to live without fear. This does not mean that scary things won't happen but that you will not fear them when they do. Why? The creator of the world has put his spirit in you. This does not mean that you will always act like Jesus. We also have sin in our lives. Bad things will happen. Bad things happened to Paul and bad things will happen to you sometimes. 

          When we moved to South Sudan life became difficult. Even the simplest things, like buying bread, became hard work. I have to take a police officer with me (it's ok because he's my friend) so I'll be safe. If I need money it might take many trips to the bank before I can find my money. Then I have to get someone to exchange my dollars into Sudanese pounds, then we walk through the market with my police friend and buy delicious bread from a lady with a very nice smile. 

          There are a lot of people with guns in our town. Sometimes they fight with each other and people get hurt. This makes us sad because many people in our town don't know Jesus and the peace he brings. If we gave into fear, we would not be able to tell the story of Jesus to those how need him the most. We have to be BOLD.

Be Last

First read John 13:3-17

The Story of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples is as shocking today as when it happened. What kind of a leader chooses to wash the ones he leads. What would people say if the President of the United States was caught secretly washing the feet of his cabinet? Most people would not understand. Some of you have seen people wash the feet of others. What did you think? When Jesus washed his friends' feet there were no cameras there, he was not even on a stage. Anyone who has worn sandals all day knows that the disciples' feet needed washing. Jesus was doing what needed to be done. Normally, servants did this type of thing. What was Jesus doing? Was he a servant? Yes, he was. He served and was treated like a servant. He taught others to serve. I am reminded of this every time I give my one year old son a bath. I wash his little feet and he laughs. I have to wash my son's feet. He can chew on his feet and play with his feet but he can't wash his feet. This is what Peter finally understood. There are places only Jesus can reach. We can't wash the sin off our hearts. We need Jesus to wash us so we can be apart of him. It takes a lot of humility to say I can't do it, I need to be like a child and have the father bathe me.

Be His

    

   

He is the head of his body, the church; he is the source of the body's life... Colossians 1:18-22

           Our generation likes to talk a lot about the relationship between Christ and the Church. This is like talking about the relationship between my head and my body. If the two ever become separated I would cease to exist. I would be dead. Any "church" that removes itself from the authority of Christ, has removed its own life source. It will be a quick death, but this is not what we are talking about. The Church and the Body of Christ are the same thing. You can't join one and not the other. Christ is not something you put on once a week. He is something that you become eternally. When you are saved, your salvation becomes a bound identity. You are moved under Christ. You are now part of his body, the church. You do not earn this through membership or classes in any building. It is the amazing incomprehensible will of God. Through the blood of Jesus, God brought salvation to you when he brought all things back to himself through Jesus. 

          Through Christ's sacrifice we have been made friends with God. As you read this, it is not likely that you are my friend. I live far away in South Sudan. You could message me on FB or respond to this post. You could even "friend" me, but we really would not be friends, so to speak, no offense. But what if, I responded to your friend request and said, "I really, really have to meet you. I'll send my son to your house and bring you to visit me in Africa. My son will pay for everything. It will not be cheep but you are worth the cost. My son will go to you and bring you to me. If you come to me, you will be my friend." Now, I can't pay for everyone to come to visit me in Africa but God did pay for everyone to come to him. 

           There are many groups claiming a way to salvation, a way to God. But man cannot find God with rules or acts. Only Jesus can bring you to God.                

Starting a Short Series: Who should we be?

These will be used in this summer's FugeCamps' discipleship materials. I wanted you to get them first. 

  

Back in Kaabong

      

   

Yesterday, we loaded up in a small van, kids in toe and headed to the end of the black top to meet J. Lira was where the good roads ran out. J had stopped on the roadside and purchased two bags of roasted pork, a Baganda specialty. We met J early afternoon, loaded his Land Cruiser, and made the mad dash to Kaabong. 

    We were now midway in a ten hour day on the road. Loaded with gear, we bounced the rest of the way to through Karamoja, five adults, three kids, and a dozen chickens. It was a good trip. We pulled into Kaabong just before dark and were greeted by old friends and new. Ngole was one of the first. He looked quite noble setting there on his big bicycle, smiling and waving his hands.         

          Being back in Kaabong was sobering. The basecamp had never looked so good. Even in the dark, it was clear that so much had happened in the six months that we had been gone. Our home was now a home of others. My garden had been planted by another and my coffee plants seemed to miss me more than the rest. The weather was cool. A soft breeze moved among the buildings and we were together. We sat at table enjoying spaghetti, cold Coke-a-Colas, and overdue conversation. It was a memorial night. The kids swarmed each other. They talked and played and enjoyed getting on each others nerves. 

cont:     The next several days were wonderful. We were encouraged to see all that God has completed in Kaabong. When we left J and Susan were the only ones there. There are now eight Adults working full time form Kaabong. Three days of meeting rendered a renewed and clarified vision for Echelon's future. The biggest focus of the year will be a multi-etnic multi-month training. This will be a huge amount of work for everyone. Pray for the upcoming Echelon church planters training. 

          We were honored to spend time this the expanded team. But it had to come to an end. Sadly we left and bumped along the road for ten hours back to Kampala. Wed. we head back to Kuajok.   

To Write or Not to Write

  

        

       

My blogging hiatus has finally timed out. To set at a computer and put thoughts to blog was more than I could manage for nearly a year. I questioned many of my superficial beliefs about life, relationships, ministry, even writing. The core beliefs stayed in place but much of the practical side of living came into question. I would like to include a few things that helped me move past blogger's block.

Time: I have found that time really does help to heal most things. One of the best pieces of advise           I received during my dreadlocked years was that time would fix a bad dread, it true. Time allows one to step back and see the panorama of life as it unfolds. It is easy to focus on the negative, when taking things one difficult day at a time. But, step back and let some time pass and look at life from a broader point of view and honestly, the good days out weight the bad and things don't look so dim. Writing takes inspiration. Inspiration is like fuel. It runs out if not replenished. Often, we simply need time to rest and time to find a renewed inspiration. 

Reading: The older I get the more time I spend with my face in a book. I try to read broadly and keep up a steady diet of novels, nonfiction (i.e. biography, history, theology) and science. I have discovered so much of human nature in reading novels and science books at the same time. G. B. Shaw has taught me to not judge all people by my "middle class morality" and S. Pinker has taught me to look at life as the interplay of constants and variables. Hugo taught me beauty. Twain taught me humor. Hemingway taught me wonder. Chomsky taught me to question. Melville taught me the art of reading. And B. Franklin taught me resolve. The most inspiring novel I have ever read is most certainly by Curt Iles. The book changed my life, but not by prose nor plot. Curt is my dear friend. He now spends his time making the message and person of Jesus more knowable to the people of equatorial Africa through his work in refugee camps touching the lives of many from DRC, South Sudan, and Uganda. I had never read a novel written by a friend until now. I guess I always thought books came form the printers of publisher, not the minds of men, women, teachers, shopkeepers, politicians, and a few missionaries. Curt puts his pants on the same way I do and if he can put words down to screen, maybe I could as well. 

Communication: There are a few people in my life that truly help me to sort out my thoughts. I have a good friend of mine that has that talent. We have a good conversation about once a month and swap emails about twice that often. He has a unique ability of asking the right questions, which directs my line of thought and allows me to come to my own conclusions. Another such person, is my father. I talk with my father once a week. The conversations are always insightful and wise. My father's openness gives me an advantage over most men. Benjamin Franklin once said, Any old fool can learn from his mistakes, it is a wise man that can learn from the mistakes of others. My father's vulnerability has fostered many deep conversations. He is direct, yet caring and always empathetic. He doesn't hesitate to offer a gentle rebuke when needed. We all have those people in our lives. However, it can be a challenge finding those people in a sea of acquaintances. 

Hardware: For me writing is spontaneous. It is difficult to make myself write when I am not "in the mood," I have always been like this. But, when the mood hits me I need to write it down. Year before last, my wife bought for me an iPad mini. This has been a great little device for keeping up to date on social media. Recently, I bought a Logitech keyboard for my iPad a

nd a few days ago, I downloaded the Blogger app, I am using it now. The combination of hardware and software gives me the ability to write when it suits and publish when I have internet.                                                                       

a Poem

It is not by chance we came this far
We bear together every scar
For easy is the wound to heal
When boar by brothers through every ordeal
We are four and each a portion bear
The pain the joy even despair
Pressed hard on every side
Christ as our mortar
We will not divide

-written one difficult day. Warrab, South Sudan