Bringing the Gospel

My sweet friend and reformer, Sarah Bedi

There are certain scriptures that help to define who I am as a believer.  Listed below are my top 3 (Special thanks to Scott Moffatt who taught me more about the bible than any of my seminary classes):

1. Galatians 2:20 - For I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me. And the life I live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave his life for me.
2. Ezekiel 36:24-28 - I [God] will gather you from the foreign nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land.  I will sprinkle clean water on you and you shall be clean... I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you.  And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.  I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey mu rules.  You shall dwell in the land that I agave to your fathers, and you shall be my people and I will be your God.  And I will deliver you...
3. 2 Corinthians 5:17 - Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation  The old has passed away; behold the news has come.  And all this is from God, who through christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation... Therefore we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us.

These verses drive me back to the still waters of truth when I'm blown off course by the squalls and hurricanes of lies and deception.  When I'm tempted to believe that God is the great watchmaker and not the great lover of His people, the power of these scriptures comes flooding back.  I can experience time and again His intense, self-perpetuated love for His people and know that regardless the situation I am in, it is truly for my good, even when the situations seem very much the opposite.

Whenever I'm in doubt in ministry, struggling to find a reason to push on I am generally struck by 2 corinthians 5:17.  That God would see fit to use me as the vessel of honor - the crown of his love - make no sense to me, because I know me.  I know my failings, my thoughts, and my doubts.  It makes no sense, but I keep on moving forward.  That's how we ended up in Sweden... come to think of it, I guess that's how all missionaries end up mobilized.   Their lives run headlong into the vortex of Isaiah 52:7 - how blessed are the feet of those who bring the good news.  Or in my case, you see Romans 10:14 and realize that God is planning on MY involvement in His salvation plan.

I have heroes too.  Scott Moffatt, Ray Vaughn and Sarah Bedi.  These are saints that I've sharpened and been sharpened by - Iron on Iron.  Maybe this is an evangelical heresy, but I no longer revere the dead bones of saints from long ago.  While their voices sing just as true, and their efforts shine just as bright - I just can't say I ever held Jonathon Edwards accountable to maintaining his standards of holiness, or confronted Hudson Taylor in his sin, and I definitely never sat under the tutelage of either Wesley.

Scott taught me more about being a believer than any other person I've ever known, Raymond taught me how to be a good friend of sinners, and Sarah... well, Sarah is difficult to describe.  Sarah Bedi is our missionary on the ground in Stockholm.  She is who we flew in to connect with and work alongside.  She has been teaching us what being a missionary in this foreign land could look like.  Ultimately, she is our Jewel of the North... the reformer, the reconciler, the renegade missionary taking back what the kingdom of darkness stole.  In short she is my hero.

These are people the world is not worthy of, but thankfully the Lord saw otherwise.

Style Is A Myth

When we arrived to Sweden I was greeted by the welcoming site of a bathroom.  There is nothing so nice as a clean, spacious single potty bathroom when coming off of an 8 hour flight with a 17 month old who slept only 3 hrs.  You inevitably feel gross and tired - physically tired, tired of sitting down in a cramped seat, tired of movies, and ultimately tired of feeling trapped in the clothes you've worn for nearly 36 hours.

Beaker

Antoine Griezmann

This sanctuary of aluminum, porcelain, pine, and mirrors provided me a moment to readjust, to breathe in stale Swedish airport air instead of stale airplane air mixed with the piquant flavor of dirty diaper.  Mostly, I took a moment to collect myself and change.  I splashed cold water on my face and quaffed my hair so I'd have a much closer resemblance to French soccer player Antoine Griezmann and less like the Muppet, Beaker.  I took this opportunity to change into some different clothes too.  I wanted my first moments in Sweden to be somewhat stylish.

In an effort to fit in better, I bought some new pants before we left.  This came as a total shock to my wife who has never known me to give a great deal of thought to my wardrobe selection.  But I am turning over a new leaf of greater preparation and planning for bigger and better things.  Who knows, maybe someone will see me walking the streets of Stockholm and arrogantly think to themselves, "now that is one put together Swede...  Surely he can't be an American!"

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Micheal Scott once said, "Negotiations are all about controlling things.  About being in the driver's seat.  And make one tiny mistake, you're dead.  I made one tiny mistake,  I wore women's clothing."   I feel his pain.  My new purchased pair of pantaloons were not woman's pants but they were not far off.  Maybe Skinny jeans are a bad idea in general, but even if they aren't, this particular pair of pants were a bad idea for me.  They were so tight.  That being said, I really wanted to look sharp, so I stubbornly put them on anyway.


They were so tight that I couldn't comfortably bend over to put on my shoes.  After two failed attempts to tie my neon yellow and blue running shoes, I took a deep breath, sucked in my stomach and bent over with a mild groan, and managed to lace my shoes together.  I took one last self-congratulatory look in the handsome devil in the mirror and confidently (if uncomfortably) sauntered out of the bathroom with my green canvas messenger bag rakishly slung over my shoulder.

I had I imagined a crowd of eyes turning to my radiant handsomeness; the affirming whispers of stylish Swedes wondering if I was one of the actors on the TV Show Mad Men and a big thumbs up from my approving wife at her ridiculously good looking husband all as Jeremy breakdances to the Swedish House music playing in the background.  It would be glorious!

The reality was far less exciting.  Sadly, there was no one else there - no whispers, no music, no break dancing baby; just a tired, mildly annoyed wife who said, "What took you so long and why did you change into that?"  

Moral of the story: Fashionable is not the same as comfortable.  And right now I am neither.