Tag: life

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Perspective check, 1…2…3?

I got three emails yesterday.  2 of them were people letting us know they are no longer able to partner with us financially–to the tune of -$125 per month. The other was from Piter.

I was too busy wallowing in poor-me-land (or more accurately, trying to evaluate the situation to help to avoid wallowing there, but doing a remarkable job of pre-wallowing) to even read Piter’s email.

I met Piter in 2007, in Korea.  He’s on staff with CCC in Bangladesh.  I remember asking him and friend what the hardest part about being in ministry there was.  Without hesitation, they answered “language barrier.”  They went on to explain that there was no common language uniting the students there, and that even though between the two of them they spoke about 10 languages, they often had trouble communicating the gospel due to language.  They added also how hard that makes it to raise support.  They hardly know any Christians, and the ones they do know don’t speak the same language.  It’s tough to passionately cast vision for a ministry when you don’t speak the language.

After my pre-wallowing session, where I asked the Lord to help raise the financial partners we need and more importantly to help me to fix my eyes on Jesus in the midst of this time, I finally got around to reading Piter’s email.  It was short, and directed us to give to his ministry as we were able.  I followed the link in the email, and learned that currently they (a family of 4) have $300 dollars per month coming in.  And they need $250 more in order to cover their needs.  I’m bad at math, but that translates roughly to a 45% shortfall every month.

I personally could give enough money from our emergency savings right now to cover them for the next 7-8 months.  And I am broke in almost every sense of the word by American standards.  Even in the midst of my financial woes, God is reminding me that all I have is by grace.

Two action points:

  1. I average about 35 visits per day to this website.  On posts where I talk about my son, family, or something funny in the title, I average more hits.  So this post will probably be read by 20 or so individuals. If you gave just 20 bucks a month (let’s call it 2 Pizzas and 3 trips to the Redbox) to Piter and his ministry, he’d have more than enough to reach Bangladeshi students for Christ, without having to devote extra energy and time to raising funds.  Please give to Piter and his wife Mary Beauty now by clicking here.
  2. You clicking the “Like” button right below this line will give your friends the opportunity to help Piter and Mary Beauty.
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Terrific Twos: An Adventure in Parenthood.

Yeah, he’s got a terrible streak.  He’s impossible to discipline.  He will frequently “go boneless” in a parking lot to avoid being put in his car seat.

But there are times like Saturday that make it all worth it.

We went to “Monkey Joe’s” — which in the original Greek translates more closely to “How did they fit this many screaming kids in this room” — for LB’s birthday.  I had been told it’s a great place to relax in leather recliners while your kid plays.

Which is true, if your kid is 8.

If your kid is exactly 2 years and 9 hours old, and not quite big enough to climb up the inflatables by himself, the only relaxing you’ll be doing is during the free-fall from the top of the inflatable as you hurtle toward your adorable son grinning from ear to ear at the bottom of the slide.

If they gave out awards for sweatiest parent, I would have come home with a trophy.  And my son definitely deserved a reward for least-afraid of the slides.  And these were really big slides. Here’s a shot to show perspective.

Several other kids his age were up there with their parents, but the parents were having to convince the kid to go down the slide.  I was having to convince LB to slow down long enough at the top of the slide to not injure himself.

I had an absolute blast, and I have a sneaking suspicion that a certain two-year-old did as well.  Happy Birthday, sweet boy.  I can’t believe it’s been that long.

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The time when I most want to punch another human.

Here’s a tip:  If a missionary calls you on the phone, and name-drops a friend of yours in trying to set up an appointment to meet and share more about their ministry, it’s really best to not treat that missionary like a telemarketer in a cubicle somewhere south of Jakarta.

Heck, it’s not even ok to treat a telemarketer poorly.  That whole “golden rule” thing, remember?

I’ve never in my life wanted to drive 5 hours to punch someone more than the person that just flippantly hung up on my wife.  Raising support is hard enough without the (word I really think describes the situation, but will probably get me in more trouble than it’s worth) like you adding your special brand of acid rain to our parade.

It reflects negatively on the person that gave me your name, it reflects negatively on people from your small town, it reflects negatively on your church.

Jacqueline has gotten hung up on 5 times this month.  One person that she called back said “yeah, I hang up on telemarketers.”

Here’s our deal.  We are passionate about what we do.  Passionate enough to call strangers and try to get a chance to share with them what we do, and invite them to prayerfully and financially join with us.  We’ve seen God miraculously provide, over and over, for our needs.  I’m not mad that I have to raise support.  It’s actually a privilege.  I’m mad that a whole string of “good Christian people” would treat my wife like this.  It’s not OK.

So please, if you get a call from a stranger today, don’t treat them like a salesperson.  Treat them how you’d want your wife, or sister, or mother treated on the phone.

Just a tip.

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