Birthday package from aunt Liz!

Golden

We hope you will excuse Mary to show you where she has spent the favorite bits of her summer this year and every year. 

Shane Claiborne

This is Mary:

Last night I met Shane Claiborne, and he an amazing, kind, radical individual. He was speaking at a conference I attend annually and I just wish I could have written fast enough to copy down every word he said instead of just the sentences that stood out the most. Even so, in the two plenary sessions I attended that he was speaking at, I covered about five pages in my notebook with my favorite words of his.

It was an amazing experience to meet him and hear him speak. My respect for the way he lives his life is huge, the books he writes are amazing, and he said when I talked to him that he was pleased to meet me. He, the many-times-published author but greatly humble man, was pleased to meet just some person who enjoyed his writing. But the thing is, I want his writing to change my life. Because it deserves that kind of recognition - to make people want to live out Jesus with all your life and strive for justice, grace, and love. Of course, he is not perfect as anybody else is not, but the way that he presents his challenges are so stirring and they seem a bit different than what the Bible asks of us - so applicable to our lives and so easy to understand. So amazing.

One of the aspects of Shane Claiborne's life that make me respect him so much is that he is absolutely community-oriented. He does not speak of me, he speaks of we.

Here are a few of my favorite quotes of his:

• “It’s our duty to interrupt injustice”
• “We cannot not share!”
• “When we take our deepest passions and connect it with the world’s deepest pain, something beautiful happens for God.”
• “We want a Christianity that looks like Jesus again; that looks like love.”
• “Make poverty personal.”
• “I’m reminded that we have a God who is loving people back to life.”
• “But God is bigger than the mistakes that we make.”
• “We, of all people, should be known for our grace.”
• “We believe in Jesus, we believe that life is more powerful than death, that love is more powerful than hate…”

Another lovely God story

This story was told in the Campus Alpha video we watched tonight.
AMAZING!! This is from a story Tony Campolo told. I believe him. There are times I hear stories and I just think "WOW! God is good!" And this is one of those times. I think it's important that these stories are shared. So, in the words of Tony Campolo...

"Several years ago I was invited to preach at a small Pentecostal College. Before the Chapel service, several of the members got up and took me to a side room to pray with me. I got down on my knees and the six of them put their hands on my head and prayed for me, asking the Holy Spirit to fill me up and use me effectively as I spoke to the students.

Pentecostals seem to pray longer and with more dynamism than we Baptists do. These men prayed long, and the longer they prayed, the more they leaned on my head. They prayed on and on and leaned harder and harder. One of them kept whispering, ‘Do you feel the Spirit ?’ To tell the truth I felt something right at the base of my neck, but I wasn’t sure it was the Spirit.

One of the members prayed at length about a particular man named Charlie Stoltzfus. That kind of annoyed me. I thought to myself, ‘If you’re going to lean so hard on my head, the least you can do is pray for me.’ He prayed on and on for this man who was about to leave his wife and 3 children. I can still hear him calling out, ‘Lord, Lord ! Don’t let that man leave his wife and children ! Send an angel to bring him back to that family ! You know who I’m talking about, Lord… Charlie Stoltzfus. He lives down the road about a mile on the right hand side in a silver house trailer.’

I thought to myself, with some degree of exasperation, God knows where he lives… What do you think God’s doing – sitting up there in heaven saying ‘Give me that address again ?!’

Following the chapel talk I got in my car and headed home. I was getting on to he Pennsylvania junction when I saw a young man hitch hiking on the side of the road, so I picked him up. As we pulled back onto the road I introduced myself, ‘I said “Hi, my name’s Tony Campolo”’, and the man replied ‘My name’s Charlie Stoltzfus’.

I didn’t say a word but drove to the next junction turned around and headed back. When I did that he looked at me and asked what I was doing, and I said, ‘I’m taking you home’. He said ‘Why?’ And I said, ‘Because you just left your wife and children – right ?’

And he said ‘Right, right…’

He leaned against the passenger door the rest of the way just looking at me – and then I drove off at a junction onto a side road, straight to his silver house trailer. Again he looked with astonishment and said, ‘How did you know I lived here ?’ and I said, ‘God told me, now you go inside because I want to talk to you and your wife’.

Charlie ran in ahead of me – I don’t know what he said to his wife but when I got in there her eyes were as wide as saucers. I sat down and said, ‘I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen’.

And did they listen – after an hour I led them both into a personal relationship with Jesus – today that man is a Pentecostal minister.’ "

Prayer works

I LOVE the Christian Heroes: Then and Now biographies. Here is one story that I thought should be shared.


Cameron Townsend, one summer, had something "Camp Wycliffe," a summer course that taught people how to be linguist-missionaries, particularly in Central America. There were just five students at this summer school and five instructors.The summer school was held somewhere up in the Ozark Mountains and they did not have any electricity or anything. Anyway, so there was this one lecturer at the summer school who suggested they hold a special day of prayer and ask God to open the doors to Mexico so that the students would be able to work freely in the country. This was because, at the time in Mexico, the president's cabinet was almost entirely made up of atheist and they had passed laws that restricted missionary work quite a bit (like banning sending religious material through the mail, or making it pretty much impossible for a missionary to get a Visa). OK. I'll let the book pick up the rest of the story.
"July 24, 1935, was set aside to pray for Mexico. In the morning, the students and staff gathered around on their usual nail keg seats and listened as Cam outlined the already familiar state of affairs in Mexico. As the morning progressed, everyone got down on his knees and asked God to open the doors into Mexico so that they could all go there and work among the Indian tribes and do their translation work unhindered. Cam was still outside praying at lunchtime when one of the students tuned in the large valve radio in the dining room to hear the midday news. 'Come and hear this!' he yelled to the others. Everyone raced into the dining room and gathered around the radio. The news announcer spoke in a booming voice. 'And now for an update on the political situation in Mexico,' he said. 'Only minutes ago, President Lazaro Cardenas announced a major shake-up in his government. He has dismissed his entire cabinet, saying he wishes to build a new one with more moderate views.' "
Anyway, so over the next couple of weeks, many of the harsh anti-religious laws in Mexico were struck down, and it became easier for missionaries to enter the country. In fact, the president himself recommended that translators be invited to the country to work among the Indian tribes!!

So I went to Guatemala

Two months ago t oday, I spent my first day in Guatemala. It feels as if a lot has changed in those two months. At the same time, I cannot believe it has been that long already! My experience in Guatemala is still fresh in my mind. I love those experiences when I look back on them and think “I can’t believe I did that!” That’s what I think when I think of Guatemala. I can’t believe I woke up at four a.m. to fly—alone—to Newark, and to Houston, and I can’t believe that I sat beside someone on the plane from Newark to Houston without getting to know them. That person turned out to be part of the team I was going to Guatemala with, and we ended up spending a lot of time together on the microfinance site. I also cannot believe that the first time I met my team members was at the Houston airport, minutes before boarding to the plane to Guatemala City. I am a pretty reserved person, and I am not a big fan of going to parties with people I don’t know well, let alone a foreign country! But somehow, I trusted these people. First, I guess, I trusted God. I felt peaceful. I let God worry about everything, and enjoyed the ride, eager to see how I would be used and how God would use this trip to teach me something.

I am not yet sure if I made any difference in the Guatemalan people’s lives. Mostly I was an observer of the microfinance process. I asked questions, sometimes, and prayed, sometimes, and once or twice I played soccer with the kids. I had never felt particularly called to Guatemala, and I still don’t, but God gave me a love for the country and its people. I love the colour of the buildings and clothing, the mountains and volcanoes, and gummy worms from a certain tienda. I love the smell of the coffee and I love hearing Spanish being spoken all the time. I love all the people I got to know, even for a little while- my host family, various farmers and carpenters, young mothers and strong women. I love saying “Buenos dias,” “Buenos tardes,” or “Buenas Noches” to each person I see on the street.

God sure taught me a lot in Guatemala, and before and afterwards too. Before the trip, I learned that if God wants me to go somewhere, I don’t have to worry about the finances. During the trip, I learned so much. We read 1 John and the phrase “perfect love drives out fear” just kept on coming to my mind. I am still ruminating what that means. But at missions conferences I often go to, I hear the phrase “The safest place to be is in the middle of God’s will.” So I think that is true, because when I know something is God’s will, and know that His love is there, I feel a wonderful kind of peace. And I had felt since about six months ago that I should go into missions. Things just kept on popping up to confirm it. Finally, I came to Guatemala, and I realized that is exactly what I should do. It’s exciting to feel called to something. Right now I only know I want to tell someone about Jesus who has never yet heard of Him. But that is OK. Some people who are missionaries in Guatemala full-time shared their testimony during the time I was there. They spoke with vulnerability and honesty about all their struggles and how God had used them. It was very powerful because they were honest and they did not feel very special. But God used them anyway. I was encouraged knowing that even if I feel inadequate, anything I can give is completely adequate to God. I sometimes feel like I have to be a super holy person to be a missionary, but after going to Guatemala, I realized all I need to do is follow Jesus. He said go.

Photos courtesy of SI Guatemala

My Grammy

My maternal grandmother had dementia.

My paternal grandmother has dementia.

But I think it would be more true to say dementia had them. I find it hard, now, to remember when Grammy was not like this. She is a world-traveler, a strong woman who raised five children on a farm, besides working as a teacher and taking night classes. She lost her husband about 35 years ago in a car accident. She is a smart woman, with a love for reading, teaching, and music. She played the organ at the church. She spent time in Greenland and the Czech Republic, and traveled extensively in her retirement. She is an amazing cook. She loves opera music, she is a shrewd businesswomen and she has an impressive collection of books. She has only four grandchildren, and she made us each a quilt. To defy her arthritis, she would swim each day, for about five months of the year, in the frigid Bay of Fundy. I force myself to remember these things, because this is who my grandmother is.

It is funny how fleeting these things are. We treasure things in our minds but in the end, our minds just end up being shrivelled away until we become like Grammy. Lots of people, blessed people, do not have dementia in their old age, staying sharp until the end. But for some people, like Grammy, her brain is the first to go. I miss her. I love her the way she is, but I miss the way she used to be. I tend to be nostalgic and it’s easy to be nostalgic when it comes to Grammy. I miss the days when she would read to us from Swiss Family Robinson, even though at the time we thought it was a silly book. Now, she struggles to read the margarine container. I miss the days when the relatives were all gathered together- a fiddle or two, and Grammy on the piano. I miss the days when she knew my name, for goodness sake, and my gender. Now she calls me a “lovely little boy.” Sometimes she tries to chew on her fingers, even though she used to scold me for sucking my thumb. Grammy cannot form coherent sentences anymore.

But it does no good to be nostalgic. I find it hard to find the balance between helping Grammy with everyday things like getting out of her chair or just holding her hand, and treating her with the dignity and respect she deserves. It’s hard to remember, when I am trying to get her to stop spitting at her helpers, that this is probably the strongest woman I know. I do not know if I will get the opportunity to meet another woman like her. Here’s the other thing: I think she may have sacrificed her sanity for her children and grandchildren. She worked so hard her whole life and I see her influence and her genetics in her children and grandchildren. Both of her daughters became teachers, like her, and both shared her musical talent. Her sons, as well, are multi-talented. As for her grandchildren- my cousin has inherited her business sense, I have inherited her love for literature, my brother has inherited her musical talent and my sister has inherited her sewing and teaching talents. Sometimes I wonder if it was from working so hard that she got dementia. On the other hand, it could be just genetics.

It scares me that I might get dementia in my old age. There is also early onset dementia, which comes as soon as middle age. That frightens me a lot, because I know it is in my genes. But I guess I could have a whole new way of looking at life. I watched a TED talk once about happiness, and the difference between remembered happiness, and happiness in the moment. Even though remembered happiness is great, the knowledge that I may someday forget the events and people of my life spurs me on to appreciate everything. Remembering and thinking seem like such normal things to do, but I am thankful for my brain every day. I may not always have it.