Missions, Bible College Style

In Bible College I had to memorize, in order, every city in all of Paul's missionary journeys. At the time it seemed like an insanely pointless amount of information. Thus, I chose to boycott. So much so that when it came time to take the test I scored a mere 67%. With that I think I schooled that professor, don't you?

(In all fairness, I now see the error in my thinking. I was a junior year youth ministry major. It wasn't until my senior year that I discovered that teenage substance abuse directly correlates to Paul's missionary voyage to Macedonia. Who knew?)

Speaking of missions, my junior year I signed up to take a class called Cross Cultural Communication. The professor teaching this course was stellar. He was a cultural anthropologist, an expert in Hebrew culture, and a contributor to the footnotes of the NIV Study Bible. He was one of those professors who could rock a tweed blazer and smelled like a cross between Greek mythology and black coffee. He was cool. Unfortunately, when that semester rolled around, he was called away to the Holy Land to unearth something amazing. Much to my chagrin I got to unearth something equally amazing: his craptastic replacement, Professor Laffy Taffy.

He was not an anthropologist. He was not an expert on culture. But he did have missions experience: one month in England in the mid 80s. That's right, my friends. Laffy. Taffy.

He began his first lecture by laying the foundation for over seas missions: "clothing the natives." (his words, not mine) He was convinced that no matter what a person's culture dictated, no one could accept Jesus without being dressed. Especially women. He called it offensive and disrespectful to God.

As one class bled into another (and I say "bled" as in slow and painful torture) this lecture became a regular touch point for him. My toes curled every time. The text we were reading for the course opposed such philosophy, but I'm not sure he read the text. Or could. (Okay. That's bad and I apologize in advance.)

About three-quarters of the way through the semester we had a guest speaker. He was a lifelong missionary to a secluded people group in Africa. He was now retired and came to share his life story. He described, in vivid detail, medical missions and Bible translation. His story was fascinating. He ended by opening floor to our questions.

I raised my hand. (Like I need to tell you where this is going...) Though the details are sketchy, here's what I asked: "Given your career as a missionary I'm hoping you could shed light on an issue for me. When sharing the love of Christ with unreached people groups is it necessary that the women cover their nakedness in order to accept the Gospel?"

He grinned and related the following story.

When he and his wife first began their ministry in Africa a large portion of their financial support came from one particular church. He frequently sent that congregation letters to update them on how his work was progressing. On one occasion he sent several photos. The women of the church were horrified to see the women of that tribe were naked from the waist up. In response to the ungodly, offensive nature of the native women the church banned together to collect t-shirts for each one. The shirts were then sent to the missionary - as a surprise - for those impoverished women.

Several weeks later the missionary sent another letter to the church. In it he enclosed a photo. He relayed that the women were overjoyed with the colorful t-shirts. So much so, they CUT SPECIAL HOLES IN THEM SO THEY COULD WEAR THEM AND STILL FEED THEIR CHILDREN. The picture showed a large group of smiling African women wearing new t-shirts - with the front cut out.

Then he said: "Ironically enough, many of these women went on to accept Christ, with or without their new t-shirts."

I graduated over 10 years ago from Bible college. Those 4 years cost me about $30,000. Every time I get to tell this story I think it's worth every penny.

So what about you? What kind of shirt are you wearing today??

Real Men of Jesus, Part II

I read all your comments. Today this one struck me.

According to Rick the Rick the Polonian:
They need one for "Mr. We are Best Friends Though We Haven't Met Let Me Give You a Supermassive Bear Hug Church Greeter Guy"

This one if from another church. Here you go...

Mr. Hand Out The Bulletins And Say Good Morning to People Guy

Real Men Of Jesus

Ladies, still looking for that perfect guy who loves the Lord? Have you compromised your standards only to find yourself brokenhearted? Do you sit home alone on Saturday nights, eating brownies and cheese curls, watching Titanic for the 57th time? ("I'll never let go Jack!")

Guys, have you reached a plateau spiritually? Tired of Scary Elder pushing you into a corner or the janitor refusing to Pledge the pulpit to a lovely sheen? Looking for the extra somethin'-somethin' to give your ministry an edge?

Well, you're both in luck. Here at Stacy From Louisville I feel your pain. That is exactly why I have dedicated the last 24 minutes of my undivided time to bring slave to your wounds.

Because I've got nothin' but love for you I have expertly cut and pasted a remedy. Girls, THIS is the guy for you. And guys, THIS is what you aspire to be. No compromise, no wimping out.

What you are about to see will solve your problems, or your money back. That's right: OR YOUR MONEY BACK!* I'm not here to make money, people. I'm here to spread Holy Spirit sunshine. So turn up your speakers. Lean in close to the monitor and wait for God to speak. These. Are. Real men of Jesus.

*If not completely satisfied click here and file your complaint. Individual results will vary greatly. Application subject to interpretation. 1 in 1000 may experience adverse affects including itching, tingling, and spontaneous visions of blinking sequin holiday sweaters.

Mr. Really Really Really Long Prayer "At least God's still listening..."



Mr. Over-Emotional Worship Leader "Epileptic Seizure!"


Mr. Ultimate Ultimate Frisbee Guy "Sorry about your head wound..."


NOTE: Michael, a regular reader of SCL and SFL, is the genius behind these videos. Folks, we're in the presence of greatness!! Thanks Michael!

Falling Headlong

I love a good motorcycle ride, probably because it gives me a false sense of my own awesomeness. Every time Dan & I get on a Hog (that's right, I'm down with the lingo) I can't help but think, "Hey you nerdy Dodge drivers. I'm on a Harley. Be scared of me. Maybe I have a tattoo and belong to a biker gang, you just don't know. I might even throw ball bearings into your wood-veneered mini van." And so it goes until we hit a small bump and I cry for my mother.

One particular evening several years ago my husband and I rode over The Skyway Bridge (pictured here) on the Harley. The view from the top was spectacular - clear sky, deep blue water sparkling in the sunlight. On the Harley it was so much easier to take it all in - the wind on my face, the smell of the salt air, the rush of the 190 ft. ascent to the top of the bridge. The sense of freedom was unparalleled. Yet later that day, when it was time to return from our excursion, the bridge was not so welcoming. The heavy darkness of night, mingled with the raw, lashing wind and fatigue of the day, were hateful companions. As we started the bridge's ascent I was terrified.The gusts were so intense I literally huddled behind my husband to avoid their razored edge. Dan felt their lashing, too. When he yelled, "DO. NOT. MOVE." I instantly froze. We both knew the winds of the bridge were enough to lay down the bike and seriously injure us both.

It was a reality check. How could it be that something I loved so much had turned into something so dangerous? All the freedom was replaced with serious danger, that if ignored, could have killed us. The change of perspective was staggering.

Our walk with Christ can be like this. On some occasions He chooses to protect us from the harsh slaps of life. In His infinite wisdom He knows which battles we simply can't survive and so He provides a way of escape. We enjoy life unaware of the pain we've been spared. We live free.

But there are other times. Days, weeks, or months pocked by pain, disappointment, loss, loneliness, doubt, fatigue. It plays out many different ways...

The child you love walks a prodigal's path.
You were aiming for a promotion but got a pink slip instead.
There's a miscarriage.
You live in loneliness is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Test results come back from the doctor. It's worse than you imagined.
God is silent when the rest of the world is screaming.

None of us is a stranger to injury. In those times we lay in bed at night, tears soaking a pillow beneath us as we look up at the blank ceiling. Wishing He would usher us away from our reality our lips mouth the word, "Why?" The stabbing from the enemy is all too real, but for some reason He deems us strong enough to stand and fight. And we may never know why, which makes it even harder to swallow.

No matter where you fall on the spectrum of suffering - and trust me, I've had my share - there's something to be learned. In my life, when pain has reared it's ugly head I have so often prayed, "Jesus, just help me get through this." Over the years I must have prayed that countless times.

But then I stopped.

In a suffering moment, when I was dealing with a chronic pain diagnosis and some depression, truth zapped me like lightening from the sky. By praying, "God, just get me through this..." I was limiting Him. In essence I was saying, "All I want from you today Lord is just enough to get by."

I had to ask myself, "Is that really all I want from God?"

Or in times of suffering is it possible to take advantage of God's closeness and fall head-long into Him? Maybe when He wasn't giving me peace, He gives me Himself instead, thicker and richer and almost tangible. Maybe He isn't far away at all, even if the answers to my questions seemed unreachable.

Am I suggesting a change of perspective is a cure all? That all the loneliness or pain will disappear if we ignore it? No, not at all. What I am saying is, at least for me, I can throw myself into my pain and make it my god or I can run headlong into Jesus Christ and saturate myself in Him, banking on the fact that He'll teach me in my circumstance, even though He may not take it away.

The reality is, with Dan and I riding the Harley, we could have wrecked the bike for thousands of reasons when we rode that day. There didn't have to be a bridge involved, but there was and not ascending the bridge wasn't an option. To make it to the other side alive I had to swallow my fear, sit tight in spite of it, and ride it out. We had no choice but to throw ourselves into it. Would I do it again? Probably not. But I did it once and now I have a story to tell. I think that's worth something.

The circumstances I find myself in every day - my grandma's illness, dealing with physical pain or fatigue, my mom rejecting Christ - are painful, to varying degrees. But for now, those circumstances will not change, they are what they are. But if I can fall headlong into Him again and again, I can cry and know there's comfort. I can ache and know He's healing, though maybe not physically. I know that I know Him and rest in Him, even if it means ascending another dark, lashing hill.

And one more thing: I can write these words to you with a clear conscious and a firm resolve. And a heart full of praise.

But that's me. What about you? Can you throw yourself into Him today? Let's tell each other how we're going to do this.

OK, I'll go first. Today I'm going to read 27 out loud. And I'm going to serve Christ by serving my son, instead of myself. Whether I feel like it or not.

What are you going to do today to throw yourself into Him? Maybe this will give you some ideas as you prepare to leave your comment below...

Come Join Me On Facebook!

Will you take me back??

Hey SFL readers! I've been gone tending to family matters. And while my grandmother is only marginally improved, I've decided to hit the ground running. That's right, I'm firing up the jets for Stacy From Louisville - and just in time for the holiday season! So break out your sequin holiday sweaters because the shenanigans are about to commence. In all seriousness, I have missed you a great deal! I hope you're still out there...

In the meantime, I'm on Facebook: Stacy A. Small

It was only a matter of time, you know. I've already been stomping all over Jon's wall like I own the place, but that doesn't surprise you, does it? I'm always thinking up new status updates that are crackpot wacky but without all of you it's pointless. Please join me soon!

And spread the word. In the blog world - Stacy's back!!!!

Again, will you take me back? I've missed you!

My Life In A Nutshell

First, a thank you.

When I posted that there was a family crisis I was blown away by the number of you who committed to pray for me and my family. Your support is more valuable than I can say. When pain washed over me in the past few days I was able to read your comments and steady myself. Thank you so much!

Now, an update.

This is my life in a nutshell.





My grandmother is in a rehabilitation facility. That's Medicare speak for "crappy holding tank until they can decide what to do next". A doctor contacted my parents today to inform them that my grandmother's condition is, "Very serious." Then he went on to tell them, via answering machine message, he couldn't remember my grandma's name and he hoped he was leaving a message with the correct family. Nonetheless, the doctor's right.

So I kind of feel like toast.

Though the earthly prognosis isn't good, the eternal one falls in our favor. So that's where I'm resting for now.

So again, I thank you for your prayers. And I look forward to getting SFL up and running again. We've got ourselves a crazy community going on and I sure would miss you if you weren't around!!

Thankful for you,

Stacy

When It Rains It Pours

Perhaps you remember Monday's post about my grandma's declining health...

My grandma had a heart attack last night. She was in the hospital when it happened. She will be in the hospital for - well, I don't really know how long. She's conscious and in good spirits but her strength is very low. Though I don't know what the future holds I think my grandma is the bravest of the whole lot of us.

In light of all of this I'm taking a few days off. I'll be heading out of town soon to be with my family.

I'm out of words so I'll leave it to one of you: I think Eastern Kentucky Pastor had it right: pack an umbrella.

In His Grip,
Stacy

Quote of the Moment

When speaking of Jesus, Garret Keizer said,

"Smite his cheek, and he turns you the other; slap the dignity of the house of prayer, however, and he turns over a table."

What about you? What's your favorite quote of the moment?

Let It Rain

At 84 my grandmother is the most Godly women I have ever known. Yet tonight she's barely 100 pounds and languishing. Hospital corridors and unanswered questions flood my mind as the swell of the waves threaten to drag me below the the water's surface.

It's amazing how one phone call can change so much.

On Wednesday morning of last week the rain started. We hastily packed bags and headed two hours north. At that point all I knew was that she had fallen and couldn't get help. What I later came to understand was that she was so weak it took her over an hour to crawl to the phone to get assistance.

The situation we're in comes as a surprise to no one; she's been deteriorating for years with congestive heart. But, trust me, there's no such thing as grieving in advance. Yet unlike so many crisis situations I've faced in the past, I'm facing this one differently. Here's why...

God's plans baffle me. The fact is, I waste brain space when I do any more than trust Him moment by moment. There's no way I can control any of what's happening around me. So I'm not going to cause myself more grief by pretending I can.

Unlike other crossroads in my life I'm not running away this time.

In fact, I say, "Let it rain." Even if the floods overtake me, He will never let me go. And though rain may hide my tears, He's no less aware of each and every one.

He's big enough & small enough - at the same time - to be in every facet of life. He's in me and my grandma. And that right there is a reason to hope.

I've learned, whether we realize it or not, every day is a crossroad for each of us. Every day we must decide. Do we choose to rest in Him or try to rest without Him? I've tried walking both paths and the second choice has never given me the strength to say, "Let it rain." What I've had to come to realize is that I'd rather be soaking wet in God's rain than drowning in a flood of my own undoing.

Today, come what may, I'm going to rest in Him. Even in the rain.

How about you?

Jacked Up Jack-O-Lantern CONTEST WINNER

Founding Member Pumpkin
This pumpkin eats pastors for breakfast, and because he is one of the founding members of the church everyone lets him. Founding member pumpkin has not found a pastor yet that he didn't like to chew on, and he has spit out every pastor the church has had since the first one in 1953....

Congratulations Steve, you are the official winner! It was a tough call. The vat was so thick with sarcasm that I could scarcely lift the ladle. But when all the judges had sampled their fill of mockery, Founding Member Pumpkin came out smelling....well, like pumpkin guts, actually, which is good in a rotten vomit kind of way. E-mail me at stacyasmall@att.net to claim your mullet gift o' rama. And I think I speak for all SFL readers when I say please, please assemble the costume and send us a picture.

Honorable Mentions:
Jon Acuff gave props to Rob's "When Church Janitors Go Bad"
MCTC loved mistymorningmountain with the Joel Olstein/John Piper parody
SFL would also like to recognize Miss Hannah for the Home School Mom bit (classic AWANAs)

On a side note, SFL has been up and running for almost 3 whole months. You know, readers, you mean so much to me. It's time you knew just how much...(dim lights, cue Luther Vandros music)...



I feel so much better about myself...