The MAF Blog: Worldwide Pulse

Archive for May, 2011

Bad Attitudes Can’t Stop God

Posted on: May 31st, 2011 by MAF  | 

Way back in November, I was having a really bad day. Things weren’t going at all as planned. I threw the schedule out the window half way through the day, and I had a terrible attitude about serving in eastern DRC. One of the many changes to the day was an emergency medical evacuation that came up at the last minute, and I happened to be in the area. The weather was terrible, I was tired, and I really didn’t want one more thing added to an already very long and tiring day.

I transported a mother and her 9-month-old baby boy from Nebobongo to the mission hospital in Nyankunde a little over an hour away; he needed emergency brain surgery. I mumbled and grumbled while I dodged thunderstorms, but as I landed, the gravity of the situation hit me when the hospital team came running to meet the plane. The mother was crying and pleading with God as they whisked her little boy away for immediate surgery. His head was the size of a basketball, nothing registered in his eyes, his body was limp . . . that was almost six months ago.

Today, I made an extra stop in Nyankunde for a mother and her baby to be transported to Nebobongo, but I didn’t think much of it until I landed and saw the little boy. My heart was rejoicing as he laughed and clapped his hands, and even cried as the airplane roared and bounced down the airstrip. We were met in Nebobongo with cheers, hugs, and singing—a true testimony to the Great Physician’s healing hands. What else can you do but praise God?

Nothing is Too Small

Posted on: May 27th, 2011 by Between the Verses  |  1 Comment

“Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. …” – Matthew 6:26a

My mouth is swollen upper lip to eyeballs, plumping up my face like a beaver. My six-year-old son asked me this morning, “Mommy, are you going to stay in your jammies and not go anywhere today?”

“Um, why? Should I stay home today?”

“YES. You should NOT go anywhere today.”

Gee, thanks. I’m still not too sure I am thankful (yet) for finally getting some dental work done. My dental graces were pretty worn out from that pesky number 13 which endured seven dentists in four countries, months of infection, and two root canals before resulting in a jaw-bone infection and eventual extraction. My post-field check-up in September resulted in recommendation for about $4,000 more in dental work for my tragic mouth.

I hemmed and hawed about the cost. I wondered about the wisdom of spending that kind of money on teeth, especially when we had other needs. My husband needed dental work, and the kids had a few things done, which would all cap our insurance. So I waited. December came and went, and our insurance started over. I decided I should at least take care of the missing filling and the cracked tooth that needed a crown.

As the rest of my needed work nagged at me, and with our departure for the field looming in two months, I began to feel convicted. I trusted God in quitting my job, selling all we had and moving to a desert land. I trust God to protect our kids and our family. I trust God for provision in our support needs. I trust God for needed prayer. I trust Him for our home, food, and clothing. So, why have I not trusted Him for my dental work? Doesn’t He care even to my last tooth and replacement? And nothing is too small for Him. What is the cost of dental work to the Creator of the universe?

“… Are you not of more value than they?” Matthew 6:26b

My crown was finished up, and I went to pay my portion, “How much do I owe?”

“You have a credit on your account.”

“What?” My eyebrows shot up as I clutched my checkbook.

“Your last payment was before insurance was billed. You have a $21 balance, but insurance hasn’t been billed for this one yet, so you should have a bigger credit when that clears.”

Thank you, God, that you care enough to convict me in my unbelief. Forgive me for thinking anything is too small to bring to You. I can’t wait to see how You will meet the rest of healing and restoration to my tragic mouth. For with You, God, ALL things are possible.

Love,
Beaver Face

Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? – Matthew 6:30

God’s Economy of Mercy

Posted on: May 25th, 2011 by John Boyd  | 

“You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure. Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom; in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth without knowing whose it will finally be. But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you.” – Psalm 39:5-7

In our industrialized society, economy is driven by the fair exchange of currency for goods or services. It makes sense that it would work that way. But in God’s upside down Kingdom, our rational rules don’t always apply—particularly when it comes to the economy of His mercy.

Giving up control of our lives for God’s mercy is about as unfair a trade as you can get. Even when we are following God, we still fall short time and again. And then you meet those people who no one but God could have hope for—and realize just how endless His mercy is.

When I was visiting South Africa recently, I met a man named Mario. Before he met Christ in a dramatic way, Mario was struggling in a toxic environment in South Africa. His family was forced to move out of Cape Town and into Cape Flats, a sandy plains area just outside of the city. It was apartheid at its worst.

Mario and Me

Mario and Me

When Mario was eight years old, his father died in a gas explosion, leaving him fatherless and his mother a widow. Mario soon turned to the streets for friendships and wound up in a gang. It wasn’t long before he was immersed in the culture, just a step away from being murdered or dead from drug usage.

However, through God’s providence, Mario’s heart was touched by God in a way that was absolutely radical. Mario had no self-worth, but he came to realize how much God loved him. After his first child was born, he made the decision to radically follow Christ.

Today, Mario wanders the gang-riddled neighborhoods in search of boys who want to be rescued from a life of drugs and crime. He has created a football (soccer) program, intended to reach out to these boys.

As I listened to Mario share his story, the biggest thing I took away was this: In spite of who we are as humans, and in spite of who Mario was, what he did, and what he allowed to happen, Jesus radically transformed his life. Mario is now helping young folks in South Africa break that terrible cycle of poverty and crime. It excites me to see a man like that—with very little education and absolutely nothing going for him from a human perspective—become a community leader and change lives.

It’s remarkable what God will do with our lives when we follow and trust Him. No matter who you are and where you are, if you have a relationship with Jesus you can make a difference in people’s lives if you truly want to.

How is Jesus transforming your life?

 

Tears and Hope

Posted on: May 24th, 2011 by Rebecca Hopkins  |  1 Comment

I wished my 9-month-old daughter had taken her nap. Now I was trying to get home from the store as fast as I could with her screaming in the back of the car, refusing to be comforted. My Indonesian friend was sitting next to me, even more concerned about the screaming than I was. She’d never seen either of my kids quite this upset. I wondered if she thought I was a bad mom. When we got to her house, she quickly got out of the car, and I sped off to my own house, unnerved and overwhelmed.

A week later, my friend told me she was glad her child wasn’t the only one who loses control sometimes. Her 3-year-old son—about the same age as my son—has a disability. He hits his head on the floor if he gets overwhelmed or doesn’t get what he wants, which is hard to figure out since he only knows a handful of words. My friend’s in-laws blame my friend for her son’s slow development and behavioral issues. Her marriage, which was arranged, is in shambles. And my friend admitted that she often can hardly stand her son; her love is renewed for him while she watches him sleep peacefully. My friend’s load is heavy and painful and often seems hopeless.

My friend also told me that she wishes she could have a new heart, one that isn’t full of sin and anger. She wishes God would forgive her. She yearns for a relationship with Him. I shared with her some verses, telling her that God wants those things too. I prayed with her, begging God to turn her sorrow into dancing. Then I thanked God for turning my daughter’s tears into an opportunity to share hope with a friend.

How about you? Has God ever used an uncomfortable situation that you’ve been in and turned it into an opportunity for Him?


No Time

Posted on: May 19th, 2011 by Jim Manley  |  8 Comments

I can’t push the airplane. And neither wish, nor will, speed it faster than physic’s laws allow. But I can extract all they contain. I lower the nose, add power and settle on a high-speed, 200-foot-per-minute descent. My front seat passenger raises an eyebrow at the plan change.

“Emergency in Mashient,” I shout over engine noise. “Snake bite.”

He nods understanding.

I recalculate: 12 minutes away, I need to dump 4,000 feet of suddenly extra altitude without shocking the engine or popping eardrums. Easy to do normally, but not when moments steal life. I increase descent rate to 350 fpm and add more power. “Lord,” I pray, “Get me there now!” But no airstrip appears and the jungle slides below at the same predictable pace.

On the ground, the radio’s first reports prove true. The 12-year-old granddaughter of Andrés, the village chief, writhes on a blanket next to the plane. Swollen green and black well beyond the vine tourniquet squeezing above her right elbow, venom rampages unchecked. Conscious cry alternates with unconscious convulsion as I strap her into the seat behind me. No time to move cargo. No time to make a patient’s pad on the floor. No time left for her. Only half those treated within four hours of a bite survive. They carried her six hours to the airstrip, then waited 20 minutes for me. Now we’re looking at 35 minutes to Shell and another 10 to get her into doctors’ hands.

In the air again, max continuous power and a flat climb still yields only what creation’s constraints permit. No supernatural performance surge, no divine tailwind. She flails behind me, then wails. Flail, then wail. Flail, then wail – but weaker now.

At Shell, a car pulls up as the propeller stops. I jump out, unbuckle and lift her silent body, then turn and place her onto the back seat. Is she still breathing? The car moves off the ramp and onto the road to the hospital. In the quiet I sigh, “Lord, I did all I could, but she really needed a miracle,” then repent for the implied rebuke.

Two days later, I greet the morning’s passengers. In the normal crowd of dads, moms, babies, baskets and bags a familiar face catches my eye. A bright, smiling girl sits, swinging dangled legs, waiting to return home to Mashient. Miracle indeed.