ecuador schedule

Below is the schedule for the Ecuador trip to visit the Waodani Indians. Please pray:

January 20: Leave Grand Rapids at 3:30 p.m. to drive to Chicago.

January 21: Fly from Chicago to Miami; Miami to Quito, Ecuador. Arrive at 7:20 p.m. (EST)

January 22: Bus trip past volcano to Shell Mera. Stay in hotel overnight and prepare goods for the jungle.

January 23—27: Cessna flight into the jungle with three planes, with possible stopover in Tiweaeno. During these five days we engage intense church planning, Bible study, testimonies, projects with women and children, prayer with the elders, relationship connections, encouragement, strategizing.

January 28: Fly out of jungle, bus trip to Quito.

January 29: Day of relaxation and reflection in Quito.

January 30: Fly from Quito to Miami; Miami to Chicago; drive from Chicago to GR. Arrive in GR at 11 p.m.

Thanks for your prayers and support!

expect the (un)expected

On Friday night I was invited to go to the Amazon jungle in Ecuador on an eleven-day trip to visit the Waodani people, the indigenous Indian tribe made famous for killing Christian missionaries in 1956. To say this was unexpected is an understatement.

Late that night, I began to dig into the writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s The Cost of Discipleship, a book that slices to the core of “following Jesus.” While searching for clarity on this opportunity, which at first glance, appeared impossible, I reasoned, “There is work to be done, meetings to attend to, plans to make and bills to pay.”

But Bonhoeffer, a positively-subversive Christian who was martyred at the hands of Hitler’s Nazi forces at the end of WWII, wrote clearly on the summoning of Levi (Mark 2:14) and Peter, on Jesus’ famous calling, “Come, follow me.”

“So long as Levi sits at the receipt of custom, and Peter at his nets, they could both pursue their trade honestly and dutifully, and they might both enjoy religious experiences, old and new. But if they want to believe in God, the only way is to follow his incarnate Son.

Until that day, everything had been different. They could remain in obscurity, pursuing their work as the quiet in the land, observing the law and waiting for the coming of the Messiah.

But now he has come, and his call goes forth.

Faith can no longer mean sitting still and waiting—they must rise and follow him. The call frees them from all earthly ties, and binds them to Jesus Christ alone. They must burn their boats and plunge into absolute insecurity in order to learn the demand and the gift of Christ. Had Levi stayed at his post, Jesus might have been his present help in trouble, but not the Lord of his whole life.

Peter had to leave the ship and risk his life on the sea, in order to learn both his own weakness and the almighty power of his Lord. If Peter had not taken the risk, he would never have learnt the meaning of faith.”

Bonhoeffer’s writing resonated strongly with my heart, partnered with spiritual stirrings of late and piecing together the events of the past few months. This morning, a good friend wrote, “Since I first heard about [the trip], it's had the aroma of God with it.”

Last Tuesday night I had the privilege to lead worship for our church community, wondering aloud what God will do with open people, “living sacrifices” willing to be consumed by God in every facet of our lives. My dad joked that we should be careful what we ask for, and I agree (James 5:12, Matthew 5:36). Before bed that night I scratched a phrase on a piece of paper, “Lord, enlarge the territories of our hearts.”

Days before, I had written a song while resting on the Sabbath about the freedom that is ours in Christ, expressed eloquently by the Apostle Paul in Galatians 5. The lyrics to ‘Rhythms of Your Love’ are:

It’s for freedom
That Christ has set us free

Holy God, give us sight
Give us ears to hear Your still strong voice
Holy God, fill us up
Keep us moving to the rhythms of Your love

So we won’t be burdened now
By the yoke of slavery
It’s for freedom
That Christ has set us free

So we’ll love each other now
Break the chains of slavery
It’s for freedom
That Christ has set us free

Lord, soften our hearts
Lord, open our eyes
Give us ears to hear
And hearts that understand

I just booked my flight. On Sunday, we’ll drive to Chicago and fly to Ecuador on Monday. On Wednesday, we’ll board three Cessna planes that will take thirteen of us deep into the Amazon jungle, where we’ll travel by hollowed-out canoes down the river to our team village.

We’ll be spending five days living with and encouraging the leaders of the Waodani church. My primary role is storytelling through video, photography and writing, and whatever unknowns God has in his queue. We’ll return to the U.S. on January 30.

Thank you for your prayers for the movement and protection of God on the trip.

the scales of sadness (a song)

may the scales of sadness
fall from her eyes
will You pull her from darkness?
right into Your light?

may the lies and deceptions
fade from her ears
will You give her new birth?
she’s been dead all these years

from the miry clay
from the depths of hurt
You pull us up
You lift our heads

so, God Almighty
shine Your light
so, God Almighty
shine Your light

may folly and madness
fade from her mind
transformed by Your kindness
renewed in Your time

may the scales of sadness
fall from her eyes
will You pull her from darkness?
right into Your light?

dreams for the new year

The first day of last year began by walking on water. Trudging down the path away from my parent’s house, through the woods and onto the water, where the blue sky met forest green trees, stuck to rocky cliffs hovering over the frozen mini sea.

And standing on the ice and blowing snow, in full view of the sun, I encountered Beauty in the midst of winter, and I knew it would be a good year. Not a year without trials or hardship or pain or disappointment, but a year well lived, where much was added, and much was taken away.

The first day of this New Year began with excitement, with renewal of dreams once stored away or forgotten or disregarded as impossible. But perhaps we should be in the practice of taking things out of boxes, rather than putting things in them.

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.” (Ephesians 20:21)

Dream big in the New Year.

dance

the tears of the oppressed

It’s after ten o’clock. It’s been dark since six, the hour when gray fades to black in Western Michigan, one of the few disadvantages of being a Great Lake state.

The teller at the bank apologized this afternoon for the three-minute wait; my mind flashed back to the streets of Zim, where lines of people wait hours for drought-ridden ATMs, hoping to find fools’ gold at the end of a proverbial rainbow.

It was Christmas two days ago, the peak of abundant consumerism in the West, and yet another stinging reminder of catastrophic devastation in most places. The banks in Zim were closed on Christmas; people couldn’t get money to give gifts to friends and family.

The hand-crafted African gifts I brought back for my family were a hit this year; the replacement razors coupled with the black dress socks stuffed in my stocking could’ve covered the entire bill.

Driving deserted Michigan freeways last night, I listened to Ecclesiastes, trying to sort through all this imbalance. Throughout, the teacher exclaims a desperate, “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless!,” while the parallels of the powerful hoarding wealth and resources over the powerless are strangely poetic in this melancholy, strange book.

Again I looked and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun:
I saw the tears of the oppressed—
and they have no comforter;
power was on the side of their oppressors—
and they have no comforter.

And I declared that the dead,
who had already died,
are happier than the living,
who are still alive.

But better than both
is he who has not yet been,
who has not seen the evil
that is done under the sun.

And I saw that all labor and all achievement spring from man's envy of his neighbor. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

The king doesn't give a happy prognosis, though he doesn't share the conclusion of the matter. When I first returned from the trip, a friend who visited Zim sent me to Isaiah 58, where God says:

"Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?

Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.

Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
"If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,

and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.

The LORD will guide you always;
he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like a spring whose waters never fail.

Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.

"If you keep your feet from breaking the Sabbath
and from doing as you please on my holy day,
if you call the Sabbath a delight
and the LORD's holy day honorable,
and if you honor it by not going your own way
and not doing as you please or speaking idle words,

then you will find your joy in the LORD,
and I will cause you to ride on the heights of the land
and to feast on the inheritance of your father Jacob."
The mouth of the LORD has spoken.

And it all started to make a little more sense, because I’ve seen the Joy through the tears of the oppressed.

on the back of a diesel wrecker

I’m on the back of a diesel wrecker, watching people and this African city pass by.

Women walk with heavy bags of grain balanced on their heads while children play in the dirt. A string of tractors and trucks wait in a “fuel queue,” a lengthy line to pay for overpriced gas with currency that’s essentially useless.

And the only thing I can think of is Jesus.

How Jesus used to roam through the streets, crowds watching His every move, eyes locked on Him. If they managed to touch His robe, they were healed. Even if they didn’t touch Him—if they just believed—they were healed.

It’s an amazing picture, God walking the streets.

quote from pedzy

“God will bless you guys to overflowing for taking the time out to travel miles upon miles to come and edify the church In Zim. You guys are such an encouragement to me and the other guys. I get to see the reality of the Gospel. Only God can make it possible for us guys to meet. If He didn't exist, I'm pretty sure you guys wouldn't have come. We all have Christ as our common denominator and that's enough for me to know. I see past our races, cultures and traditions, and like Paul, I can echo that Christ is all and is in all working through us all.” –Pedzy in Chinoyi

snowy sunday

The white remnants of a snowy weekend fill the streets, and it's winter—a sharp turn from Zim, a land of hot temperatures and almost daily rainfall this time of year. I sit by candlelight and think again of the country where electricity is luxury.

Christmas is on our doorstep, and the approaching holiday wasn’t a reality days ago until we landed in D.C., where twenty-five glowing Christmas trees and ads at every turn reminded us of a bearded chimney dropper who brings gifts to children and eats an enormous stash of cookies, instead of the birth of the world’s Savior. I remember asking the guys about Christmas in Zim—it doesn’t exist like it does here—there is nothing to consume, let alone indulge in.

But the people celebrate Christ daily, for He is their everything.

At church tonight we held a giant feast instead of a service, all eating more than we should. I left early, still feeling jet-lagged and overwhelmed and frustrated there isn’t more I could tell people. I’m still digesting.

A week ago, we went to the “Christmas party” at the Alaska Feeding Centre in Zim, where an incredible woman named Annie started to feed and teach rural children, and now takes care of nearly seventy.

At that party, there weren’t tables full of exotic food choices. There was Sudza, a thick, salty Cream of Wheat type concoction that is keeping the country alive, and meat, a rare Christmas special.

Yesterday, I visited the local grocery store and left without buying food. It’s been over three days, and I still haven’t had to buy groceries. I’ve been well fed by friends, and I know I can go to the store and buy whatever I need, whenever I want. With even the dry food in my cupboard and freezer, I could eat well for weeks.

Jeremy and Julie went to Zim nine months ago had me over for breakfast this morning. We talked about our experiences and the potential and difficulties and perspectives of what we can take away, changes we can make, what believers can learn from each other. I found it equally frustrating and exciting, like white water rafting on the Zambezi was both terrifying and a great adventure.

An African brother sent me a series of strange text messages with pleas to text him back, but I can't text. He wants desperately to be friends, and I failed to connect with him while I was there. It made my heart sink, like I’ve fallen short as a “missionary.”

There are so many needs, and no way to fill them all.

Everyone knows people are starving around the world, but we often overlook the spiritual riches many facing difficulties or oppression possess. I’m still trying to find the words or medium to express the worship habits of these people.

Our amazement with their worship atmosphere is not an emotional response, or a heightened sensitivity to a different language and culture; it’s much more than mere music and singing and dancing.

Worship for these people is a lifestyle, a choice made daily, despite seemingly insurmountable odds, to “take up their cross and follow Him” to “offer their bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God.”

Their lives are spiritual acts of worship.

we are home

We are home. God is sovereign and good. We are safe, healthy, and spiritually alive. Thank you for your prayers and support, exciting things are afoot.

Much has transpired over the past two weeks, it's difficult to know where to begin, which stories to tell, and what to keep in the mind’s queue until the picture becomes clearer.

During a three-hour Saturday night worship and dance session under a thatched roof at the youth retreat, I found myself alone in a field accompanied by great white stars and a reasonable fear of snakes, asking God what I can do, feeling overwhelmed and lamenting how I cannot solve all these problems.

In the background, young people were worshiping and dancing before the LORD in a way I’ve never seen. My mind recorded a beautiful sound I pray I never forget—a powerful chorus of Zimbabwean youth singing, “Oh, oh, oh, let it rise.” For me, it was a bridge linking Heaven to earth.

David danced
Undignified before the LORD

And these people shake
With unshakable souls

Living sacrifices
As the glory of the LORD
Rises among us
From the inner courts

The LORD is pleased
With broken and contrite hearts

Each has a story
And each tells it well
With wide smiles
Revealing the joy of the LORD

These people are much more alive than many of us. They may not have food, but they are filled with the bread Jesus said, “I have bread you know nothing of.” These people have been reduced to nothing in the eyes of this world, but have everything waiting in the next. It was a time filled with love, with the Spirit, with truth, with the movement of God.

I'll skip to the end, with selections from last night’s journal.

Somewhere Over Africa

The sun is setting in the sky and on this trip—blazing in pink, with yellows and oranges and blues exploding from its dissolving center. We are returning to the world of emails, cell phones, blogs, televisions, jobs, worldly pressures, after two weeks among some of the world’s greatest people.

Perspective is an interesting concept. In America’s economy, I am poor, but in Zim life, I am a rich man of perceived power. Africa has given me deeper perspective, but there is much more to see. Each life experience adds another chapter to our living stories, each glimpse of God in the air or cliffs or sea strengthens our trust in our Maker, the Creative One.

People are beautiful creatures, and one part I love about traveling internationally is seeing the image of God expressed more fully in our diversity. The African people are beautiful. I think of Issac, a kind bellhop of 19 years at Victoria Falls, or Costa, who would give everything he has for a chance to set foot in South Africa to start over, or Pedzy, a young Godly man with a heart overflowing for orphans, or Stella, who makes wonderful sweet rolls and sacrifices daily so others may prosper.

This trip was about relationships. Perhaps it is only the beginning.

As we fly into the night, my notebook is full of ideas about what to do with what I've seen here—not necessarily requiring dramatic fashion, like commercials showing starving children or politically fueled statements, but I’ve accepted a certain responsibility to report what I’ve seen. I will certainly relive this trip again in writing, in photos, in video, perhaps in person. I cannot forget this place.

The growing tally I’ve crafted of Zimbabwe’s major problems is at fifteen, and this is still a macro list, consisting of serious items like poverty and power outages, political unrest and AIDS orphans, food shortages and widespread unemployment.

We can’t do everything, but we must do something.

The night before we left for the trip I was flipping through a book a publisher donated to the country, the author was writing about her experience in Africa, how it changed her. I wonder how this trip will change me. I pray for discernment and grace to tell these stories the way they should be told, in Spirit and in truth, for we were witnesses to great truths during our time there.

It is one thing to go and see, but another to go and do.

Going to Africa is the cool, hip humanitarian thing to do in the States today; many are involved and doing great works, from Bono to Meijer. This is good, but we must glorify God first and foremost. Money and service and love are all matters of aligning our hearts with the work of God. On the outside we can appear to be doing the right thing, but our hearts have to be invested; not our egos or self-interest.

There is a great temptation to want to play the hero, to trumpet good deeds, to clang our offerings loud enough for the whole world to hear, but that is not the heart of God. Jesus exhorted us to pray in secret, to keep our right hand from knowing our left hand’s charity. He praised the poor woman who gave two coins and turned the tables of marketers fashioning His temple into a den of robbers.

He taught how the first will be last, how the poor are rich in spirit, the meek will inherit the earth, encouraged us to give ourselves (and our stuff) away to following Him in building a Kingdom where nothing passes away, where the car doesn’t rust and the insects don’t ravage our clothes, where value is found in God’s riches in Heaven, where one day, we’ll sing a new song.

As Switchfoot put it, we live in an economy of mercy, an upside-down Kingdom full of the unexpected, where life comes out of death and truth takes root in us like trees along a riverbank. It is the narrow path, the wellspring of life, the hidden meaning in parables the elite religious thinkers couldn’t crack.

It is the sight for the blind, ears for the deaf, and legs for the lame. It is life and love and the fulfillment of the law, it is reflections of Heaven on earth, and it is peace that passes all understanding. It is fulfilling and sustaining, joyful in affliction, patient in suffering, fervent in hope. It is the path to knowledge, the possession of truth, assurance of salvation, the protection of angels and guardians.

It is forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of our bodies, reconciliation to God and to others, where everyone is a child, everyone belongs.

It is life in the Spirit, communion with the Creator and fellowship with other believers. It is living in the world but rooted in another. It is returning the love that He first ravished on us.

There is no other way to fully live. It is beautiful.

zimbabwe itinerary

Last night, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, nearly everyone at church walked to the front to share what we were thankful for over the past year. After sharing, each person lit a candle, and slowly, no artificial light was needed. The room was glowing.

I immediately flipped to the Gospels in Matthew 6, where Jesus talked about the birds of the air and the lilies of the field; how God knows and supplies our needs. I’ve experienced the deep truth of Jesus’ words in these Scriptures, and again, with this trip to Zimbabwe, God has used his people to provide in amazing ways.

I am so thankful for God’s provision and the people He’s placed in my life.

A simple thank you falls desperately short, but it is sincere. Your prayers and financial support for this trip are greatly appreciated; it would’ve been impossible without you. Below is the itinerary for the trip; please continue to pray for our team that God would accomplish his work through us.

Vital Connections Zimbabwe Ministry Team Itinerary

11/28: Depart Grand Rapids with team of six.

11/29: Arrive at Harare around 9 p.m. to be met by Simon Smith. Staying at Meikles Hotel.

11/30: Drive to Chinhoyi early—Youth Conference at Hunnington Retreat Centre starts in the afternoon.

11/30 – 12/2: Youth conference with 100 young leaders ages 18-25 expected.

12/3: The Calling team rests and fellowships with local leaders and prepares for upcoming ministry. Kentwood Community Church Global Outreach team arrives in Harare-met by Aspher Madziyire.

12/4: The Calling team meets up with GO Team in Harare and departs for Chivhu to lead Children’s Outreach Program, conduct evening services and see feeding program.

12/5: Total KCC team together in Chinhoyi for fellowship and preparation for weekend.

12/6: Children’s outreach at Alaska feeding center and Good Shepherd Orphanage.

12/7 - 12/8: Church leaders conference at St. Peters retreat center with Craig and Teresa speaking.

12/8: KCC GO Team departs for home.

12/9: The Calling team ministers at local Chinhoyi services.

12/10: The Calling team departs Harare for Victoria Falls holiday, while Craig returns to U.S.

12/13: The Calling team arrives in Grand Rapids!

Dear God, I Am Scared

“Dear God, I am scared.”

These are the words exiting my mouth as I jog around the corner near the Catholic grade school, where swarms of bundled up kids await a string of station wagons and SUVs, like mini-celebrities waiting for their chauffeur parents.

I remember times when life was simpler, when perfecting the multiplication tables was the biggest event of third grade, when baseball cards were turned into rumbling motors on rubber bike tires, when summer vacation came every year.

“Dear God, meet me here.”

In the movie Stranger Than Fiction, Will Ferrell plays Harold Crick, an IRS tax agent whose life is narrated by a novelist who always kills her characters. Crick wonders if he’s starring in a tragedy or a comedy.

If it’s a tragedy, he dies. If it’s a comedy, he falls in love.

Three months ago I sat on a beach with change all around me, wondering what just happened to my life. Days later I signed up to go to Zimbabwe, and now, today, nine days remain before lift off.

And change still surrounds me. The unknown is on my doorstep.

Like Crick, I wonder aloud what all this is about. Not necessarily life or death, or comedy or tragedy, but the greater meaning behind what lies ahead. But I guess we have to move forward in order to look back.

In God’s own words, “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

Thank God He hears us. I have no reason to be scared.