Living without because you have it all

For the short existence of my life, I have taken many things for granted, things I didn’t know I had excess of until not having enough of them. When I think of home, suddenly luxuries appear in my mind, I almost don’t miss them because I have learned to live without. And they are luxuries. I believe many of us feel it is our right, our countries duty to provide the things we think we can not live without. Things like toilets that flush paper and showers with pressure above a dribble. Constant hot water, drinkable tap water and pipes that don’t freeze. Heat and electricity that always work. Having machines that drop sand so our roads aren’t covered in ice and cars that don’t emit too much exhaust. Things like personal space and personal cars. Health codes, building codes and all other codes. Internet in any from outside of dial up and fast food restaurants with drive up. Food that is safe to eat and stores that are safe to buy from.

Knowledge that prices are set in stone and that inflation will not appear just because you look like a foreigner. We think we cant live without our pantry of instant foods and our microwave that produces instantaneous gratification. We want to live with the world at our finger tips and complain when we have to park at the back of the parking lot. You don’t like that walk? Try walking to the store and carry all the groceries back, no car! We don’t want to try, we don’t want to do more than we have to because we think it is our right to have what we want, when we want it.

I wonder, what made us like this? When the majority of the world lives without so many of the things we think we can not live without - who are we to complain? We can live without them, most people do. Here, people have three outfits tops, not because they are desolate, but because… do we really need more than that? Have just enough to wear one, have one being washed and have a back up… doesn’t that sound practical? What if it didn’t matter if you wore the same shirt two… maybe three days in a row. If everyone was doing it, then you would too… right? I remember when if you wore the same shirt twice in a weeks time people would comment. What is that? Its not that our things are bad… but do we really need all we have? Are our things necessary to survival? I think not. I have lived with and learned to love people who have so much less and are so much happier. I have eaten from the tables of old people who live and sleep in their only clothes and played with orphans who wear donated clothes - they had so much joy to give me. They live practically because they can.

Coming home, I am excited. I am excited to have a shower so hot that I can just stand there and let it run all over my body without fear that it will turn to icicles before I rinse the shampoo out. I am excited to have shampoo in a language I understand and toilets that are not freezing cold and where I can flush my toilet paper. I am excited to find the clothes in my closet that I left behind and eat in restaurants where I can trust the food. But in a small way, I will miss this style of living. I will miss no one caring if I wear the same sweater 5 out of 7 days per week. I will miss sitting close to strangers on public transit and trying to communicate with my hands and smile - but I will enjoy being able to eavesdrop on conversations and read billboards again. I hope to never take for granted what I have been given and to never forget the life I have lived and the viewing of other peoples lives. The lessons I learned from spending time with nuns who gave all they had to serve their King. Not because they were looking for something better or more money, no, they gave up their possessions, their life, so that they could love on little children who had no one to love them. I hope to never live complexly, but to keep things simple. To not demand luxuries, but to live without because it is my choice.

I suppose a reverse culture shock awaits me. A culture where hospitality is not embraced and most tables are not open to strangers. Where we are so scared to touch each other that we leave whole seats open on buses and benches. A place where we get angry when others don’t speak our language and never bother to try to communicate outside of saying something vain in English. I am returning to a place where discrimination takes place and people are judged. Home is a place of expensive coffee and gas hogging cars. We go fast and we do a lot - this is who we are. It is not all bad. This is just our culture, a place that would be as much shock to a Bulgarian or Armenian as their countries were to me. The one major thing I have learned from coming overseas “It may be different, but different is not wrong and different is not bad.” Home is the culture I know, the one that knows me, the one that brought me up and that shaped me into who I am. Home is the place I want to be and it is the culture that helps define me - but I hope to let other cultures impact me too.

So as my mind is spinning with cultures and traditions and languages I think about the one thing that is true, the only constant - Jesus Christ. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. No matter where I go or what decisions I make, he will be there. He created me and placed me into cultures so that I might learn. But he is the ultimate culture, his culture is greater and stronger than any other in the world. His culture is the Kingdom of Heaven and he desires that it be spread to all peoples, nations and cultures.

Hallajuah, Coke, Amen

Every location my travels take me I find a new language with new sounds, letters and voice inflections. Some languages sound similar to words I know, some languages are strictly foreign - but there are those languages and alphabets which mean nothing to me, which sound literally like baby gibberish and give me no hope of learning even the smallest jot or tiddle.

It is during these circumstances that I find myself out on the edge a little more than usual because I cant rely on my usual communication skills to get me by. I cant get lost and ask for directions or ask for help if I need it. I can sit in a public place and listen in on other conversations or read billboards or labels when I get bored. I cant even complete the simplest action of saying “thank you” or “I would like that please” or “stop here”. I cant utter anything that means something to the people in which I long to communicate with. At the grocery story I long to see lables which I recgonize, brands that look famaliar. I cant order anything at a resturarant except for one drink - Coca Cola. No matter where I have travled Coke is the universal drink. I drink it simply because I can ask for it. I can speak to a person in another language without needing assistance of a translator, that alone is worth drinking it for.

But there is a language louder than words, more universal and understandable by all. It is the language of love. They may not understand a sound that comes forth from my lips, but they see the smile they produce. I may not be able to verbalize my need for an item, but I can put my years of charades into practice. I cant say “sorry” for bumping into people or explain to the homeless person that I am not ignoring them by not wanting to give them money, but I don’t know what they are saying and I cant use words to tell them I dont have money.

When we go to churches though… there is a slightly brighter atmosphere. I can usually depict the word for Jesus be-it Jesit or Jesu or something along those lines. In every song I can pick out the one word that I know, the one word that sounds familiar to me and has meaning in my mind. The word I can speak and have the party in front of me understand. I can feel the presence of the Holy Spirit in the room, but suddenly, when the word is spoken I feel connected to the other people as well. Together we can shout in loud voices “Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah Amen!”

long, dirty, sprawling corridor

It was a long dirty hallway that led through corridor and lounge, and then another corridor and lounge, sprawling ahead of us like a circling race track that led us through the retirement home.
A cold cafeteria type room with desks surrounded by four chairs. A lone piano with yellow keys. A worn metal bowl held by old hands. Weary sets of eyes focused on our youthfulness. These were thing things that awaited us in the room that longed to be filled with joy and music.

Empty faces full of pain and boredom started to light up. Old boots with tattered laces began to bounce up and down. There was the lady with the funny hat that just wanted to dance, and the one who was thrilled to sit and clap. The man that soaked in the presence through closed eyes and the two random kids who tried to be as disturbing as possible.

Terry found his place back in preaching, Jarred enjoyed having the option of keys or strings on which to make music. Ness was awestruck by the level of love when a woman just passing in the hallway removed Ness’s glove and placed a ring from her own wrinkled hand onto Ness’s slim finger.

What was it about that place that seemed to just lack life? Was it the old age? Was it the dirt? The smell? The ware and tare? Was it the people themselves? Whatever it was that was there, we tried to bring a little of that which was lacking and paste it upon the previous dryness

Tip of the Arrow

Coming here it was prophesied over us on two different occasions that Armenia would be like the tip of the arrow. Our outreach started broad in ministry and this will really pin point a lot. And also, YWAM Budapest has never sent a team to Armenia so we are kinda paving the way. Hal, our director back in Budapest really has a heart for Iran and wants to get involved with the Iranian people. His hope for us coming here was that we would get in contact with some Iranian refugees - and that we have.

My conception of “refugee” has always been of poor people displaced in a foreign country for reasons unknown to them. But I have been very wrong in this idea. A refugee is just someone living in a country outside of the one in which they belong - so I guess I am a refugee. We hooked up with a small Persian church (Iranian) and are trying to get in good relationship with them. They only have about 15 members and the majority of them have been Christians for only a few years. It is so interesting to start to understand their culture more, to hear them sing the same songs we sing but with a twang in their music that we could not duplicate if we tried. We invited a group of them to our house and had fellowship time with them, that was cool. Sure nice to have a place where we could have someone as our guests, for once to not be the guests.

I love finding more out about the Iranian culture, they are not all Muslim’s, they are nothing like the pre-conceived ideas that America has placed upon them. They are a people, many of whom are in love with God. They are persecuted for their faith daily by their neighbors, family and nation, yet they choose still to worship God whole heartedly. I think we have a lot to learn from their example. And I hope I do.

Orphanage

A very exciting day for me was Wednesday. We went to Mother Teresa’s home here in Yerevan. She has “homes” all over the world, orphanages that she started or were started in here name. One of the sisters there actually spent years working in direct contact with Mother Teresa, she shared with us for a few minutes about her, what a wonderful testimony she was, how even as nun she wanted to follow what Jesus had for her life. It was mostly an orphanage for young children with disabilities. It was just fun, I really light up when around that group of people anyways. Young kids, some in wheel chairs, all with arms outstretched wanting to be hugged and played with and loved. The nuns speak English to the kids so most of them understand and speak English as well.

One little boy in particular reminded me so much of Solomon (my nephew whom I miss dearly). This little boy was 6 but small in stature and could not walk because of braces constraining his legs. He was the one we found to speak English. The drum was his favorite thing we brought and he didn’t want to let go if it, but would shout out names of his favorite songs for Jarrod to play on the guitar. “Sing the if you are happy and you know it song!” “Sing the jumping song!” sing the happy and you know it song!”… His smile, his desire for Jesus and his love for music - that was what reminded me of Solomon.

What we liked most about the orphanage, or the thing that stuck with us all, was the sisters. They were so happy. They had genuine love flowing from them, joy poured out of them. They had love for those kids that was real, they had the joy of the Lord oozing out from every part of them. We were inspired by their simple devotion, their patience, their smiles.

The orphanage was clean. It was more like a large house, only like 25 kids, most babies or kids under the age of about 7. It did not fit my impression of orphanages, it was like a home, full of love and warmth. It made me think “this is something I could do.” I did not have to search for love to give to those kids, it was there. I desired to not leave after our 2 hours. I wanted to stay. I wanted to hold the sick babies and pray over them all night long. I wanted to talk to the older kids and instill Jesus in their life. I wanted to stay. Maybe someday God will direct me back to an orphanage where I will be able to serve and give of myself, I look forward to that day.

Arriving in Armenia

Well, here I am in Armenia. In Asia. A new country with new food, new customs, new alphabet, new transportation system… Getting here was an adventure, we had two planes which were both delayed, much time waiting at the airport. We left our house in Budapest at 3:00 Sunday afternoon and arrived at our house in Yerevan about 6:30 Monday morning. After two delayed flights, Hannah waiting in line to fill out a missing luggage paper, and a crazy taxi drive with luggage on our laps, we walked through the door to the apartment we will call home for the next almost 5 weeks. As we plopped on the couches our eager new leaders from here spent thirty some odd minutes filling us in on all kinds of information that I am sure not many of our minds actually absorbed.

It took a few days to get use to the time chance considering the fact we slept the entire first day, but we are pretty use to it by now. Our contacts here are a young couple working with YWAM themselves. She is from Armenia/Bulgaria and he is from Norway, both speak excellent English. We have yet to find other Americans. The Armenia people do not speak English, some of the students do, but many of the refugees, those from Iran, they speak English.

We have traveled the city a little, by taxi and ma-shoot-ka. The latter word I am sure is not spelled correctly, but is for those of you who need the phonetics. A ma-shoot-ka is a 12 passenger van, more or less - that is able to hold 20-25 some people. First come first serve get seats, then more people squeeze in, then 5 are sitting on a 3 person seat, then more squeeze in, then arms are around you holding on to things. You get at little closer to people that you would want. It is not a place for people that get Closter phobic or if you are really tall. But it is a fun experience none the less.

The appearance of the city is much like our other traveled locations, a post communist city with ugly apartments, garbage everywhere, cigarette butts every half step. The people are quiet, not many seem to smile, but we have yet to do too much with the actual Armenian people. Needless to say, I am here, I am safe and I am looking forward to an interesting and hopefully beneficial last leg of my trip.

Athens

A quick update on this end, in case anyone even reads my blogs. God is amazing still. He is taking this time that I am away from home ... to teach me to rest in Him. Something that I feel I could do at home, but never had - that is why he had to bring me practically as far away as I could physically get. We do ministry in the evenings and I am stretched. I am never pushed, but the opportunity is always there for me to reach out, to speak, to better myself. My leaders will never force me to do anything, but encourage me to step out. Pray for me, that I can step out more. Now is the time to work on things in my life, to better myself, to overcome fears. Now, that I am in the time I have set aside and am surrounded by people who are as family to me.

I have been pouring my time over Proverbs 31, working on memorizing that chapter. I am learning to let God speak to me even more through his word, letting him mold me into who HE wants me to become, not into the person my mind thinks I should be.

Last week, I was on top of Mars Hill. That is the hill that Paul preached from. You can see for miles in every direction, but in one direction is was just nature, just trees and grass and rocks. That would have been the same view Paul would have seen. It was a crazy moment to stand there and read the words that he spoke, the people of Greece are still idol worshipers and running from God. It is almost sureal being here. I love it!

I was looking at a map (one that I take with me everywhere) and I put my finger on Oregon, then a finger on Greece, the distance is huge, i have entire bodies of water and land masses between me and the place I want to call home... I mean, this is the big ol' world that I use to lay in bed and look at and dream about, here I am. Some days I have to let that sink in, other days I just get it, this is just a day in the life of me - and I LOVE IT!

I have than two months to go before returning home - yet I feel the best is still in store. The height of my journey is yet to come. God has so much more to teach me.

During my first week of lecture phase back in September, we had a teacher come and teach upon a brand new subject for me. He opened up the bible and said that there is something that we have all missed. He was so excited, he literally was on his toes. Laughter was pouring forth from his mouth and joy pouring from the movement of his hands. To see his passion made me tune it, it caught me almost hypnotized as my eyes followed his every step. My mind was on a crazy ride, but despite my notes and attentiveness… I ended the week more confused than I began. Now, over two months later, I get it. I understand what he was teaching. Now I am the excited one, I am the one flipping through the pages of my Bible faster than my eyes can read them. I am the one that wants to share this crazy message. Its about the Kingdom of Heaven.
We have all heard about it, we all have had teachings on the Beatitudes from Matthew and know the phrase “Kingdom of Heaven.” But, if you are like me, you have always overlooked this phrase, or maybe you thought you understood but you thought that it was talking about Heaven, or maybe you have already understood this, if that is so I would love to hear from you and how you understand it. But this is what I have learned.

The Kingdom of Heaven is the first thing that Christ preached on. Right after he spent 40 days with is father in the wilderness. “From then on, Jesus began to preach, ‘Turn from your sins and turn to God, because the Kingdom of Heaven is near.” (Matthew 4:17)

It is the first and last of the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3 and 10)

When he teaches the disciples to pray he tells them to say “May your Kingdom come.” (Matthew 6:10)

Parables all through Matthew are trying to help us understand what the Kingdom is.
When he teaches about worry, he says “and he will give you all you need from day to day if you live for him and make the Kingdom of God your primary concern.” (Matthew 6:33) He tells us to make it our primary concern. That means it is the most important.

In Mathew 11 he teaches all about the Kingdom he says in verse 12 “ And from the time John the Baptist began preaching and baptizing until now, the Kingdom of Heaven has been forcefully advancing, and violent people attack it.”

This is what Jesus was trying to teach us! The Kingdom of Heaven is not Heaven he was not trying to describe what heaven will be like - he is describing earth. When he said in 11:12 that the Kingdom has been forcefully advancing, that is showing when it started. It started when John began preaching. We are suppose to make the kingdom our primary concern, we are suppose to be persecuted, we have to realize our need for him, we have to be like salt and light. Christ wants his kingdom on earth to advance. He wants us to live in him now.

Do you want to be more passionate? Do you want more to live for? Life in Christ is not all about the cross, we have been forgiven, now we are called to increase his kingdom. Just think, we are living in his Kingdom now! We are in eternity if you are in Him!

I challenge you to look through the scripture for yourself, study the Kingdom of Heaven. Read Matthew with new eyes, read the Bible with new eyes. This is not a little piece to the puzzle, it is the missing piece to my puzzle. The Kingdom is talked about all through the Bible, it is prophesied in the Old Testament, it is talked about in Acts. In Acts 1 the apostles ask Christ if he will now restore their Kingdom (they were thinking in physical terms.) But Christ responded with “But when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, you will receive power and will tell people about me everywhere…” That was his response to the Kingdom. That is what we are suppose to be doing. There is more to life than living in his grace - we must tell the world and see his Kingdom advance! So what are you doing about the Kingdom? What will you do to advance it? To make him seen on earth and to make his name shine? This is our job as Christians - to spread the Kingdom of Heaven.

Christmas Day

Every church we attend we get the same type of amazing acceptance. They are all poor people, with big toothless smiles, wanting to hear your word. They are at church all days of the week… because they want to, not because they feel burdened by some program. There is such joy here. Terry (our leader) said to the church today “I wish I could take you all home to my church in England so that you might minister to them.” What a crazy event that would be. Why don’t we feel this presence so strongly at home? Why are our churches not alive like they are here?
At the Christmas service at the mother church we sang lots of Christmas carols. Never before had any of us seen Jingle Bells and Feliz Navidad sung as a worship song. But people had their hands lifted and shouted Hallajuah when the songs finished.

Our beautiful Christmas meal consisted of two desks made into a grand table and a compilation of food from the past two days. We had bread (made my the Gypsies from yesterdays church) and peanut butter, and kiwi, and one slice of ham each. It was amazing. None of us were really hungry, so we sat around and just held fellowship. We laughed about what we had thought Christmas would be like and how although we were once worried, we were now so blessed.

Christmas Eve - not that far away from home

On our outreach team I am in charge of Journaling, this is an excerpt from our best day by far...

Its Christmas Eve and after a good Christmas service we loaded into the bitter cold cars to return to the wonderful hostile for some maybe merry festivities. But on the way back, our caravan seemed to be heading in a new direction. After we saw a sign welcoming us to a new city, we knew that we were not just following our leader to a quick errand. 25 minutes of driving in pure darkness through white Bulgarian country side, thoughts of question filled many of our minds.
“Where are we going? Seriously.”
“Maybe Palman (our guide) forgot that we were following him.”
“Maybe his car was hi-jacked.”
“Maybe it is a surprise for us.”
“Well, if it were a surprise it would be nice if we had known, we are going to run out of petrol (gas).”
It was about 45 minutes later when we arrived at our destination - wherever that was. Climbing out of the car we were all really wondering what was going on.
“Jarrod, get your guitar, we are leading a church service.”
Unprepared was an understatement for what happened next. We slid up an icy hill and found ourselves outside a building that must be a church assuming upon a lit cross. As cold as we were we quickly shuffled inside, only to find a packed room of gypsies jumping to their feet out of joy. They squeezed closer together, some sitting on laps, just so that we could sit on the benches in the front. I wonder what we must have looked like to them the moment we looked around and realized exactly where we were. A gypsy church in Bulgaria had been waiting for us and were waiting to hear what we had to offer.
This was one time when the word “schedule” did not exist, they held the mic out and the leaders were in as much shock as the students. So we did the only thing we could do - we preached the gospel, we sang songs, we gave testimonies. One by one we got up and shared from our hearts, a little fearful maybe, but full of faith, wonder and excitement. But the Lord had more in store for us then we had for ourselves.
The phrases “divine appointment” or “being in the right place at the right time,” they don’t do justice for the opportunity laid out before us like a great feast at a table. We asked if anyone wanted prayer, hands shot up like rockets all over the room. It was too packed for people to come to the front, so we worked our way through the crowed laying hands on every person who grabbed us to do so. The presence of God was as strong as a think blanket of snow - it covered everyone completely.
As we got in the cars once again, shock still covered us. “Why us? Why would God allow us to experience this?” We may be away from home, but this year, for Christmas eve - we were filled with the spirit of God in a way that none of us shall ever forget.

Bulgaria

Well I am officially in the second country of my outreach and enjoying every minute. I have been in Bulgaria for the past week (over Christmas and now New Years.) We have been really busy. The church of Bulgaria is booming, small churches are rising up everywhere. The Harvest is great but the workers are few. Pastors here lead multiple churches and drive to many cities through the week and to hold meetings. We have been trying to make it to as many of the 42 churches as possible, we maybe not, but we are meeting with many of them. We performed many kids services which really made me excited to work with kids once again. Every church experience was different. we could not plan out a schedule of events until arriving at the building because we needed to see what space we had.
Its crazy here, every person knows and demonstrates the word HOSPITALITY. It is like running through their bones. It puts us to shame. They just want to bless us... yet they have nothing. Everywhere we go we are blessed with food, or lunch, or gifts. We have made house visits to sick old ladies... yet upon arriving at their house they have a table set with juice and cookies. One lady in particular really touched me. She could not walk and yet when we crammed into her small one room apartment she said to us "I am so sorry I have nothing to offer you, but I could not find anyone to go to the store for me." She was almost embarrassed to have nothing to offer us. We were just simply blessed by her smile and story.