In the Midst of Fear By Vickie Stam

I didn't hear God calling me that day back in 2016. My husband, Tony and I were attending our friend's 50th Anniversary celebration and were about to leave the church fellowship hall when Tony started talking to our friend's son, Dave. 

It's not surprising, Tony is quite the social butterfly and I sometimes think he doesn't like to leave any place until he has mingled with everyone in the room. I sat back down and continued talking with a girlfriend until I noticed that Tony and Dave had finished chatting.

We weren't even out of the parking lot when Tony announced, "Vickie.... we are going on a missions trip to Cuba!" The word, 'we' mortified me. "You are, but I'm not." I said without hesitating. Tony went on to describe what the trip would involve as if he hadn't heard me tell him that I was NOT going. 

Being a farmer, Tony was especially excited about the agriculture in Cuba and the farmers who were looking for help to purchase more land, grow crops and support themselves. The program was designed to help people expand or set up a new business and suddenly Tony had developed a strong desire to support the people in Cuba. I felt blindsided by all of his enthusiasm. 

"God called you to go, not me!" I exclaimed with a different sort of passion. You see, we had been to Cuba on a vacation just a few years before that and the entire time that we were there, I suffered from a painful heat rash and other traveling ailments that come when you travel to a foreign country. I just remember wanting to go home. I remember the afternoons I spent in our rented condo crying for God to make me feel better. How could Tony ask me to go back there? 

Our thirty minute car ride home felt much longer than normal. There was an uncomfortable silence that filled the air between us. Every time I looked over at Tony behind the wheel, I could see the disappointment on his face. I looked away and struggled to hold back the tears. Out of the blue, our once happy day turned bad. We were at an impasse, one that I feared was going to cause us a great deal of pain before it got better. 

When we arrived home, Tony continued to plead with me to go to Cuba. Now I was wondering why God would allow this to happen to me. My fear was turning to anger. I just wanted to go in the other room and hide. By the end of the day, I felt the weight of our conversation still bearing down on me. I sensed the only relief would be to give in, please my husband and God - even though I did not want to. 

A few weeks later, with Tony standing at my side I reluctantly signed all the paperwork and committed to going. It didn't relieve the pressure I felt. I still didn't want to go. In-fact, I felt a higher level of fear come to live with me. 

But once I was there, there was no turning back. I know that God used me in ways that I never would have imagined. The weather was actually cool for Cuba. There were a dozen of us on this trip and everyone else complained about the lack of heat. All the while I was feeling elated inside by God's goodness. "Just ask Vickie to pray for that. She seems to have a direct line to God," the others teased. I laughed because I knew they were all just kidding even if they really were hoping for warmer weather. In that moment, I thanked God and asked for the continued blessing of the cooler temperatures.

And I wasn't alone in my fear. Another woman on the trip had been battling with depression and anxiety for a few years already and also went because her husband wanted her to go - not because she felt God calling her. We immediately gravitated to each other. We became fast allies with more than one purpose in mind. "We can do God's work and support each other on the journey," we whispered to each other so no one would hear us. It didn't take us long to realize that God had put us together.  

I took all of my travel medication, I prayed for good health, for the people traveling with us, for the projects we were going to see and for the government to not witness us being the hands and feet of Jesus because they would be opposed to our mission.

It really was a 'vision trip.' Tony and I were thankful to have the financial means to go on the trip and to contribute to a couple of the micro-finance projects that we visited while we were there. Yes, God me gave the strength and support I needed to go on this trip. 

He opened my eyes to a world I would have otherwise never seen, a world outside of a vacation resort - the real world. A witness to the raw poverty of people with so very little, to a horse collapsing in the middle of the street from pure exhaustion because the owner needed the horse to work, to the injustice of their government against its people when they refused the farmers the feed they needed for their hog operation. And yet - I remember the smiles hugs and love we shared with those people. I truly felt that even in the midst of my fear God used me to do his work.   

Speaking the Truth with Love - Ruth L. Snyder

This month we've been focusing on writing about controversial or taboo subjects. When I read the prompt, this verse came to mind:

"Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted." Galatians 6:1 (NIV)

It concerns me that there are topics that seem to be taboo in churches. Somehow it's fair game to denounce homosexuality (which we should), but we rarely quote verses about gluttony and the fact that it's a sin to eat too much. We complacently stuff our mouths while condemning those caught in the sex trade. The way I read my Bible, sin is sin. Sermons are preached on obedience to parents, and how to get to heaven, but when was the last time you heard a pastor preach about child abuse or hell? (Would these issues exist if we were all living by the morals laid out in Scripture?) Recently I was told that J.P. Yohannan was banned from a Christian event. The reason? Because he was teaching false doctrine? No. Rather, it was because people in North America, at a missions event of all places, don't want to hear the truth about selfishness and gluttony. It makes us feel uncomfortable. Are we really prepared to stand idly by while millions of people die without Christ? Or are we going to ignore that topic too, because it makes us feel uneasy?

Then there's the whole issue of which version of the Bible is most accurate. Bible translation takes skill and training, sensitivity to culture, and obedience to the Holy Spirit. Anyone who speaks more than one language knows there are certain phrases which just don't translate accurately, no matter how hard you try. It makes me sad that followers of Jesus Christ allow this issue to divide families and churches. I know people who were convicted of their sin and found salvation by reading The Living Bible, which is actually a paraphrase not a translation. Are we going to limit God with our rules?

Jon Mohr sums it up well in his song, Let the Walls Come Down. He reminds us that although we are in a spiritual battle, we are allowing walls made of tradition, culture, and pride to divide the body of Christ. While we're busy defending our "walls", others are dying without Christ. Listen carefully to the words.

Is there a wall you need to knock down? Ask God for wisdom, strength, and boldness to speak the truth in love.

For more information about Ruth and her writing, visit http://ruthlsnyder.com

All throughout the spirit realm a fearsome battle rages
The fates of men and nations hang suspended in the fray
Walls designed by satan in the twilight of the ages
Now stand as great divisions all across the world today
Walls not born of government nor strife amid the nations
But walls within our churches and between denominations
Stones of dry tradition carved in fear and laid in pride
Become a dismal prison to those withering inside
Chorus:
Let the walls come down
Let the walls come down
Let the walls that divide us
And hide us come down
If in Christ we agree
Let us seek unity
Let the walls
Let the walls come down
Let the walls
Let the walls come down
The body weak and powerless, crippled by division
The victim of a tragic and most cruel civil war
Brother fighting brother over culture and tradition
While countless lost and dying lie as casualties of war
It’s time to end the foolishness of warring with each other
And kneel in true repentance that our union be restored
May we then as brothers rally round the cross of Jesus
And carry on with diligence the mission of our Lord
Chorus
Oh children of God
Oh soon to be bride
Let us humble ourselves
And crucify pride
Throw off the flesh
And its pious facade
And unite in the name of God Chorus
- See more at: http://www.stevegreenministries.org/product/let-the-walls-come-down/#sthash.hjTGiHCA.dpuf

All throughout the spirit realm a fearsome battle rages
The fates of men and nations hang suspended in the fray
Walls designed by satan in the twilight of the ages
Now stand as great divisions all across the world today
Walls not born of government nor strife amid the nations
But walls within our churches and between denominations
Stones of dry tradition carved in fear and laid in pride
Become a dismal prison to those withering inside
Chorus:
Let the walls come down
Let the walls come down
Let the walls that divide us
And hide us come down
If in Christ we agree
Let us seek unity
Let the walls
Let the walls come down
Let the walls
Let the walls come down
The body weak and powerless, crippled by division
The victim of a tragic and most cruel civil war
Brother fighting brother over culture and tradition
While countless lost and dying lie as casualties of war
It’s time to end the foolishness of warring with each other
And kneel in true repentance that our union be restored
May we then as brothers rally round the cross of Jesus
And carry on with diligence the mission of our Lord
Chorus
Oh children of God
Oh soon to be bride
Let us humble ourselves
And crucify pride
Throw off the flesh
And its pious facade
And unite in the name of God Chorus
- See more at: http://www.stevegreenministries.org/product/let-the-walls-come-down/#sthash.hjTGiHCA.dpuf

The Great Commission – Ramona Heikel

When the same tugging comes at me from several directions in a short period of time, I believe I’m hearing from God.

For a while I’ve become more and more aware of two things. First, I am big on thinking and dreaming, but comparatively lacking in action. Second, my typical service has been within my church, to the church, with less of my time and effort given outside the church. Both of these realizations have been making me uncomfortable.

In the past year or two I’ve run across one book many times. It is entitled Revolution in World Missions: One Man’s Journey to Change a Generation. The first time I saw it, I picked it up and read the back cover, which made it sound like it was a biography of a missionary in Asia. But I already had several biographies of Christians and missionaries on my shelves at home that I hadn’t read yet, which looked more interesting, so I left it at the store.

I saw the same book several more times and ignored it, but kept wondering why it was so prevalent. I thought, “Someone must be going out of their way to populate all kinds of stores with this book.” Why would someone do that? When I saw a stack of about twenty brand-new copies of K.P. Yohannan’s book at another store, and saw that they were free, I picked one up. I figured I’d glance through it and donate it to the Co-op Book Exchange. It sat on my shelf for months before I finally sat down to read the first chapter.

As I read, I quickly realized that I was not alone in some of my questions about missions and my grieving over the materialism of the Western world, including the Western church. I couldn’t put it down. The book suggested sponsoring a national missionary in Asia, one of the areas of the world that has the least access to the message of the gospel, because that missionary would have opportunities to share his or her faith that Westerners would never have. By the time I read the first three chapters, I’d decided to make a priority with my time and money to help share the gospel to those who haven’t heard it.

The Bible study group that I attend has just begun to study the book of James, which contains numerous reminders to put our faith and love into action. And while my heart has always begun to race when I hear of opportunities to serve the needy (especially children), the experiences recently relayed by others who have returned from a short-term mission have motivated me to switch from contemplating “if I went”, to “when and where I will go”. I am now sorting through opportunities to help in the work of sharing the gospel, both locally and in other countries.

I know that God gives wisdom to do whatever he asks us to do, and I hope I can be patient enough to wait on him to clarify exactly which direction he wants me to go first!

[You can also read my detailed review of Revolution in World Missions on my website, here.]

Posted by Ramona

www.happilywriting.com

The "Figures" Take Precedence — Lynda Schultz

History books tend to emphasize facts and figures. Although I am a history buff, particularly if it has to do with submarines, warships and airplanes, my next history book is going to focus more on the "figures" of the story than on the cold, hard facts.

Several years ago I was challenged to take on a writing project for the mission with which I have worked for the better part of thirty years. Fellowship International will celebrate its 50th anniversary next year and the senior staff thought it would be good idea to tell our story.

Rose and Mario Bruno, Italy

It's not that the story hasn't been told before—in bits and pieces. Our beginnings have been documented in This Dominion His Dominion, by Leslie K. Tarr (1968), in The Fellowship Story: Our First 25 Years, by Dr. J. H. Watt (1978) and most recently in A Glorious Fellowship of Churches, edited by Michael A.G. Haykin and Robert B. Lockey (2003). But this will be the first time that our story as a mission will stand on its own.

By next spring, the writing of the book needs to be finished so that it will be ready for release in time for our national convention, Fellowship 48, in November 2012. It wouldn't be such a daunting task if the facts and figures of history were all I needed to record. But my vision for this book is a much more personal one. I want people to experience the joys, sense the pain, work through the challenges, acknowledge the losses, and feel the heartbeat of the people who have been part of Fellowship International for the last fifty years. To do that depends, not so much on my writing skills, but on the willingness of our missionaries and alumni to be transparent and willing to share their journeys in print.

Kathryn and Rob Fleming, Japan

I've contacted every missionary and alumnus that I can find. Slowly the stories are coming in. My Thursdays and Fridays, days regularly dedicated to the work of the Communications Department of The Fellowship, will be heavily bent toward the book over these next months. There will be midnight oil to be burned I am sure.

My biggest fear? I do not want to fail my colleagues or the Lord by telling the story poorly so I pray that God will be my skill, be my words.

My greatest joy? I praise God for the opportunity to tell the story behind the movement, the story of the men, women, and children used by God to give Fellowship International faces behind the those cold, hard facts.

Of Whom the World is Not Worthy - by Lynda Schultz

His name was Robert Moffat, (1795-1883) and I "discovered" him while researching an article on Africa. When we think of the so-called "dark continent" the name of David Livingstone often comes to the fore, as it did with me. But it was Moffat who captured my attention in the end.

He came from humble Scottish roots and would always look back at the teaching he received at his mother's knee as pivotal in his spiritual growth. As a lad he took to the sea—something which caused his mother great anxiety. She was much relieved when Robbie took on the safer, and dryer, profession of a gardener. It would be in this context that he discovered his calling to missions, and met his bride-to-be, Mary.

Mary's parents were willing to give their consent to the marriage, but they were not happy with allowing their daughter to go off to South Africa. So Moffat, along with several companions, took that first voyage alone at the age of twenty-one, under the auspices of the London Missionary Society.

Travel in Africa was dangerous business. Moffat, stranded in the desert without water on one such trip, despaired that he would ever see a fruitful, spiritual garden in the midst of his chosen wilderness. But he was not a man to be easily discouraged. In 1817, to the great concern of his friends and colleagues, Moffat headed to the kraal (village) of an tribal leader by the name of Africaner. This man was feared throughout the region for his cruelty. He was well-known as a murderer and thief. But God gave Moffat favour in this man's eyes, and Africaner became one of Moffat's first converts.

Mary's parents finally relented, and allowed her to make the journey to South Africa to marry Robert. By this time, Moffat's vision was directed to a tribal group called the Bechuanas. Among these people, Robert and Mary would minister for many long and difficult years. Before the first tribesmen came to Christ, small inroads in character and conduct occurred. The Bechuanas gave up calling on their rainmaker one year, at Moffat's insistence. That was a time of terrible drought and the Bechuanas eventually came to Moffat's house and threatened him at spear point with death if he didn't leave the area immediately. Mary, with their first child in her arms, watched from the house. Her husband undid his vest, exposing his chest to the armed warriors, and basically told them to take their best shot. Stunned by his bravery, the warriors walked away declaring that this man must have many lives if he was so willing to give up one of them to their spears.

It was twelve years before the first fruit of Moffat's labour was seen among the Bechuanas. When it came, it came in abundance. Robert Moffat dedicated much of his time to language learning and the translation of the Scriptures so that these people could hear and read the Word of God in their own language.

The Moffats returned to England only once in over sixty years of ministry. On that journey, Robert persuaded David Livingstone to go to Africa as a missionary, instead of to China. Livingstone would later marry Mary, the child that Mary Moffat had held in her arms as her husband faced the Bechuana ire on that significant day in their missionary journey.

As I read the story of Robert Moffat, a small part of which I have shared here, I was impacted by the courage and faith of those early missionaries. I fuss at the small sacrifices I make to serve God overseas, only to be shamed when I realize what others before me have endured for the sake of the Kingdom of God.

Has the mold been broken from which the Robert Moffats of the world were made? I hope not. We desperately need humble and faithful servants like him today more than ever.