13 days and counting

Only thirteen days left to go! We don't have a whole lot of news or any really phenomenal stories to relate about a resurrecting phone or defiance of persecution, or anything like that. So, I thought I'd take the time to show you another angle of Estonia. 

I put some pictures up a few weeks ago showing the countryside and the capital city, Tallinn. Take the time to check those out; Estonia really is a beautiful place! Today, I added a video from the LonelyPlanet website that talks a little bit about the city itself. 

My hope is that you can begin developing a mental picture, and it might enable you to pray more specifically. If you will, take a minute and pray for the people and areas mentioned. Pray that, "The people who walk in darkness will see a great light; those who live in a dark land, the light will shine on them, (Isaiah 9:2)." 

Thanks, continually, for joining in with us on behalf of people that you don't know and might not ever meet (in this life). What a gathering it will be in the next, when they get to see the the faces of those who prayed so diligently for them. 

The Difference in a Day or Two

Sorry to all for missing the blog over the weekend. Last week started with a snow day and ended with sunshine and flip-flops. It was amazing. 

The snow began Sunday night and didn’t stop falling until Monday afternoon. It went a foot deep. We grabbed some sleds and went down the hills directly behind our dorm. It was a great time. One group of people made an igloo big enough for four people to crawl into, and there were several giant, seven foot snowmen built around the campus. It’s the only legitimate snow day I’ve ever had; enough to shut down Louisiana schools for a month. In all the fun, Josh put his phone in the pocket of his jacket and went down a hill. Needless to say, by the time he was emptying his pockets that night there was no phone, but more on that later. By Saturday, though, the weather was back in the eighties, which was just awesome! We’re enjoying one last flip-flop splurge!

Back to the phone, Josh found it at the end of the week. It had been buried under the snow the whole time, but he picked it straight up and dialed his voicemail. Unbelievably, it worked. A small miracle for sure, but God is in the small things.

 

In The Face of Persecution

Persecution was the theme of our early sessions this week.

Several years ago in Russia, churches weren’t shut down. Some were permitted; one for every several hundred miles. To go might take days, which would equal taking days from work. Employers weren’t crazy about the idea; churches were empty. One man decided that to teach his children about the Lord, he would start studying the Scriptures with them at night. Soon, his neighbors noticed their routine. They asked if they could join with them. The man replied, “But I’m no preacher. I’ve had no seminary.” They came anyway. Together they sang, they prayed, they read the word: seventy-five of them. Their gatherings began to grow until their apartment was stacked full of people. So many comings and goings caught the attention of the KGB. Unauthorized churches weren’t allowed, the KGB told the man. But, he said, “We aren’t a church. I’m not a minister. I’ve not been to seminary. We just sing, pray, read the Scriptures, and give our money to those in need.”

The KGB left, but they came back and more violently the next time. They entered while everyone was gathered at the man’s flat; they found him and began to beat him severely. On their way out, one of the elderly women of the gathering pointed a gnarled, arthritic finger at the KGB leader and said, “You have beaten a man of God. You will not live through the week.” The KGB leader died in his sleep the next night.  The gathering doubled within hours.

On the day following, the KGB returned once more, this time to arrest the man. They put him in jail for seven years. The prison was kept dark, and crowded. He was placed on a block with fifteen hundred hardened criminals and allowed no access to a Bible. Every morning he would rise, raise his hands high and sing at the top of his lungs his heart song to the Lord.  The first day, the other men jeered him mercilessly. They yelled, threw things, banged things against their bars.  To keep Scripture in his heart, he would scavenge all day for small bits of blank paper. When he’d find them, the man would cover them entirely with whatever He could possibly remember from the world. When he finished, the man would place the paper as high as he could in his cell and sing again, his heart song. The guards would, every day, enter his room, take down the paper, and repeat, “Do you not remember? These words got you here,” before they beat him again.

One day, as he was searching the yard for paper, as if it were Christmas day, he miraculously found a full, blank sheet. The man wrote as small as he could, covering the paper with Scripture entirely. He placed it as high as he could on the walls in his room, lifted his arms and began to sing. The guards came down, infuriated this time. They swore that they were going to kill him. As they raised their fists to beat him, every prisoner from their cells raised their hands and began to sing the man’s heart song. The guards stopped where they were, and said, “Who are you?” and they left.

The man was later released and is still faithfully preaching the Word. His son, whom had witnessed the devotion of his father, is now a minister at the same prison.

Pray that we will all, you and I, have a faith like that, to sing in the face of persecution that others may join in with our song. 

Upon Every Remembrance of You

I come with little to offer, only something that reminded Josh and I of the affection we have for all of you:

Philippians 1:3-11:

I give thanks to my God for every remembrance of you, always praying with joy for all of you in my every prayer, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now. I am sure of this, that He who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. It is right for me to think this way about all of you, because I have you in my heart, and you are all partners with me in grace, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and establishment of the gospel. For God is my witness how I deeply miss all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus. And I pray this: that your love will keep on growing in knowledge and every kind of discernment, so that you can determine what really matters and can be pure and blameless in the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.

Aside from Paul's words, it's been a good week, and we're thankful for that. Time is marching on. We're officially halfway through FPO and growing more and more excited about the work to be done in Estonia. Our supervisors are apartment shopping for us this weekend and beginning to nail down more of the details for our first few months there. It seems it's going to go something like this: we'll have some tourist time, work with a volunteer trip at a Franklin Graham crusade, go to the regional meeting in Greece, begin (what's promising to be a groundbreaking) ministry to prostitutes and human trafficking victims, and start with our language training at the university all before the end of the summer. 

Thanks for hanging in there with us. We give thanks upon every remembrance of you. 

Megan & Josh

A New Week

Hello all.

I've got to be honest and say it's been a tough week. I've found out some challenging news from home and it's taken a toll on me. I can see hope in it; but, it's been tough not being at home, or even near home, while everything has been going on. We talk a lot about grief here, at orientation. The common theme is that many will delay the grief of leaving their families. My experience within the last week has brought my grief forward a bit. Maybe that's a good thing? One piece of advice we've been given multiple times is to write down our call, what brought us here in the first place. I feel like now maybe the time for me to do so, and maybe it should be to all of you because when we get to Estonia, you might have to remind me why I'm there after a while. So, please forgive me, it's a little long this week.

I didn't always want to do this. I thought that people leaving their families to move to another country and spread the Gospel was a little bit crazy. I know Josh felt the same way. Our idea of the people in our current line of work was that they dressed poorly and had six or seven red-headed children (which, as it turns out, is completely untrue).

My change in heart started with a friend who was going to Africa. Her heart was completely alive for missions in Africa. She spoke about it, dreamed it. Everything was Africa. It was contagious. Soon, I wanted to know what missions was all about, and I began to slowly hear the call that she was hearing. A year later, I was allowed the opportunity to go to Tanzania. I went with an odd combination of thoughts. I missed Josh, a lot. He was in Nepal at the time, and had been for around five weeks. I filtered a lot of what was happening through missing him, so it changed the experience some for me. But, what I did find, was that I loved getting to share Christ with people. I'm not big on striking up conversations with strangers, but I was allowed the opportunity to help explain the Bible, from Genesis to Revelation, to someone who had never heard before. God was gracious enough to use me, someone who loves stories, to tell someone (for the first time!) the greatest love story ever told. More than that, the family we were working with was so...normal. They enjoyed normal things and related to one another so casually. It was a complete revelation to me, and even after I made it back home, it wasn't unusual to smell the smells of Africa in my head, or hear the sounds of the mosque in the morning. It just stayed with me.

For a couple years after Africa and Nepal, Josh and I were in a waiting period. It could more accurately be called a preparation period. All the while, we were letting things sink it. Every sermon I heard seemed filtered, "Go." It was persistent. I listened intently any time the topic came up. I read books about people who'd gone. I ate up the words of anyone traveling and speaking about their experiences. I didn't know where, when, or for how long. Only "Go." We finally got another chance through the NSU BCM to lead a team to Nicaragua. By that point, Josh and I were already talking to each other about the similar feeling we were having, but everything was still uncertain. When we went to Nicaragua, it was like trying missions on for size. We weren't disappointed. In our preparation for the trip, we were reading from the Gospels about how those who wish to keep their lives will lose them, but those who give them up will truly live. That's what the reality was in Nicaragua. We literally had to ditch out things on the side of the road at one point to be light enough to make it up the trail. And, it was okay. More than okay. I've never felt a more singular purpose, and that purpose was liberating. By the end of the trip, we were so sure that it scared me. As we were driving through Managua I thought, "If you do this you'll be by yourself; these friends won't be here with you. Look around, you'll be on your own among a people you won't be able to communicate with." I nearly lost all nerve then, but that night, I went outside and spoke to God: "If this is what you want, you're going to have to show me because I'm really freaking out right now." And He did. I was alone, and I felt His presence in the very air around me, and clearer than day, a star fell directly in my line of sight. I knew, with every ounce of conviction, He was communicating with me, reassuring me.

Fast forwarding a bit, that's what's brought us here. We've both since been reassured. Thoughtful words by friends and their belief in us, even how tailored God has made us for our job and the people we'll go to serve have given us both a conviction we're in the right place. But, sometimes it helps to be reminded. I hope that when I start complaining on here, or when Josh does, that you'll point me/us back to this. Remind me of whom I serve. He's kind of a big deal. Also, if you'll please pray for the family situation that I mentioned earlier. Because of the nature of the request, I don't want to say it specifically, but please pray for healing.

Grace & peace.

Megan

The Singing Revolution

Some revolutions are about hope...

Matthew 12:21---"And His name will be the hope of all the world."

How the Day Sounds Through This New Song

Hello again. 

So glad to be able to get back to you today about what's happened this week.  Dr. Jerry Rankin, president of the Board, came and spent three days with us discussing spiritual warfare.  He instantly became a personal hero for so many of us.  I'll spare you all of the details, but he gave much of his testimony from his time in Indonesia.  Many stories sounded as if they were being retold straight from the book of Acts: demonic possessions, martyrdoms, crazy illnesses, family tragedies, and people giving everything they had to spread the Gospel of Christ.  

Some of you may have heard this before, but Dr. Rankin told a story I feel compelled to share. A woman named Gloria was with her family, living and proclaiming the Gospel in Mexico. She went with them and three visitors (who were helping with the work there), to the beach for a birthday party. While at the beach her daughter was swimming and was taken out by the surf. Gloria's husband immediately went in after her, as did two of the workers. None of them made it back to the shore. The body of her husband was brought back in shortly, and a crowd of locals gathered around, as people are prone to do in those sorts of situations. Instead of cowering in sadness, Gloria saw God working in the midst  of her grief. She turned to the crowd and said (I'm paraphrasing here), "My husband is now with his Savior. If you were to be lying on this beach in his  place, do you know where you would be?" As the result of her faithfulness and reliance on the Spirit, most of those standing on the beach came to faith in Christ and a new church began. 

Gloria's story is not unusual. Of those who are called, many are called to give everything: their lives, health, or grief in the loss of family and friends. Yet, God is always faithful. This saying isn't original to me, but it's true none-the-less: being in the center of God's will is not the safest place to be; but, it is the only place to be.

Aside from the awesome time with Dr. Rankin, we have been doing a little Estonia research. As it turns out, seventy-five percent of the population of Estonia believes that there is no God. One-third of the people of Estonia are Russian, yet are isolated from the native population and considered completely unengaged by the Gospel. Estonia, as I may have mentioned before, is the most secular country in all of Europe, which is the most secular continent in the world. Please pray that God will begin preparing doors to be opened for us to bring His word. Pray that God will be calling out persons of peace who will allow us to become friends with them. It can be hard for the citizens in a country that's been overrun so many times, by so many countries to open up to strangers, particularly foreigners. 

In a bit of exciting news, we also found out that we'll have access to a car, a Honda Fit.  It's a little bit bigger than a smart car, picture that for a minute (pretty comical).  We also have a Saturday off tomorrow, hallelujah. Hopefully, we'll get to go in to a bit of Richmond and explore. We're also getting a Mac compatible video camera, working on getting the software to connect our regular camera, and I'm hopefully gonna make some upgrades to the blog soon. So things should be getting better and better. 

Thanks for keeping up with us and for the continual support.  May you see the Father today.  May others see the Father in you, too. 

Meg & Josh