The Importance of Dr Pepper (and other pick-me-ups)

For what other beverage would you Google Map directions, travel 45 minutes to the other side of Budapest, turn down numerous unmarked side streets in a snowy suburb? Well, our beloved Dr. Pepper of course.

Some of you may find humor in our passionate quest, but that is exactly what our family did this past Saturday afternoon. Why? you might ask. Simply because you cannot buy Dr. Pepper anywhere else!

Life in a foreign country certainly has its perks and prices. We get to experience (taste) the amazing culinary endeavors of our local cuisine. We have found the best local soda, best local dessert (ask Jonathan about this one), and the best Hungarian soups, dishes and sides - so to speak. We try to embrace all the yumminess they have to offer. But then there are days you just crave a flavor from home...the days your tongue must sacrifice.

Just a few weeks ago, my parents treated us to a box of flavors from home. Inside Carter was thrilled to find Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Goldfish Crackers, Hershey Kisses, Fruit Roll-ups, and our favorite Brown Sugar Pop Tarts. Since then, we have carefully rationed each item like we might never taste it again! It's funny what a little food can do to give you a taste of home.

And with the same excitement, Sunday evening we savored the Dr Pepper. It was alot of fun really. I realized I hadn't had a drink of this soda for over 9 months. And for those moments we crave home, it was just what the doctor ordered.

A little less thirsty,

Corinne

A note from the Eastern Front

In 1 Kings 19 God commands Elijah to "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of God, for God is about to pass by." I can only imagine what must have gone through his mind. What did he expect?

I read stories in the Bible about the awesome power of God. The power to hang stars in the sky, to make mountains and valleys, hold back the waters, and even bring dead to life. I remember the first time I read the story of the crucifixion and was awed at the idea of the earthquake following the death of Christ. In my mind this is a scene of power, a temple veil torn from the bottom up. I can see it in my imagination like a $200 million dollar hollywood epic.

I guess if I were told to go stand on the mountain and wait for God to pass by, it's these ideas I would expect. If you recall the story, you know that these things happened. First a wind comes, so powerful rocks are shattered. The wind is followed by an Earthquake. In the pictures of devastation from Haiti, do we need any evidence of the terrible power of an earthquake.

Following the earthquake comes a fire. The folks from southern California can tell you about the rage of fire. But yet, in all of these, the wind, the earthquake, the fire, God isn't in any of them. I guess that's where I kind of hoped he would be at times.

No, in this story, God is found in the gentle whisper. A light breeze, an almost imperceivable voice on the wind. When I think of the awesomeness of God, it just strikes me a little strange that this is how he reveals himself. In the quietness, in the little voices in our heads, the words of friends, the kindness of a loved one. God can be found in the little things.

This was a hard week. As you can imagine in ministry, one of the challenges is facing disappointment. In a very real way, the disappointment that I have encountered as a missionary is much greater than anything I realized in previous employment. While before I might lose a sale, or have to stay late for work, I never really felt like I dealt with the disappointment that has more to do with eternity than a few bucks.

In ministry I have realized that I have to be careful. I tend to be somewhat sensitive, and I really hurt for people. While on one hand it seems to be a good thing, I find too that it's equally at times more of a curse.

Coming to Hungary has been both the most exciting and perhaps excruciating thing I've done. Honestly though, sometimes, in the quiet of our apartment, I long for the days of old. I reminisce about the days when the hardest thing I had to do was sit behind my desk calling dealerships trying to wholesale a Silver Nissan Pathfinder with a puke-colored interior. At the end of the day, it was just money. Here it's people, and souls.

Sometimes it's hard to see God here. This country is so spiritually starved. I have to confess to you that at times I've really wondered where God is in Hungary. This week has been that week. It's had moments of hope, but mostly moments of just hanging your head and crying. It's been days of trying to quickly think of the right words to say, to simply realizing that you have nothing left to say. You can only sit and watch people walk away, meanwhile you scream with all your might within the confines of your skull "GOD DO SOMETHING".

I feel like "God, lets see the fire, bring the fire! Write it on the walls, blow some people over with mighty wind, shake some foundations....help us out here!" But just as it was for Elijah, God didn't manifest himself that way. Most often God is found in the background, yet somehow, he always can be found.

Thursday morning I was on the metro heading toward language class. I'll admit I was guilty of a little pessimism, and I found myself actually begging God to show himself. "I just need to know you're there today," I said in the corner of my head. I looked up from the floor and saw a young woman sitting a seat away on the black vinyl benches of the metro car. My first thought was "so many young people here Lord, we have our work cut our for us."

Then I noticed her book. On her knees was an open Bible. I detected from the page heading that she was reading the book of Luke. Just as fast as I noticed her, the metro pulled to a stop and she was up and out the door. For a second, amidst the screeching subway tracks, I felt God say, "I was here all along." I couldn't help but smile, and I actually prayed for that girl, whomever she was, all the way to my subway stop.

As nice as it would be sometimes to think God should be in the fire, the fact is that's not how he choses to operate. It would be nice for an attention getting crack of thunder or lightning, but God seems content to silently whisper in their ears. A cosmic versions of "Pssst, turn around, you're going the wrong way."

More than anything I want God to use us. Not to scream and explode and such, but to gently and passionately show people everyday who he is. I want to be His ambassador. Sometimes that means watching people walk away, and realizing that it's up to God now, I've said all I can, and can only pray. Sometimes it's listening to someone relate terrible stories of heart ache. Sometimes it's praying for a Grandma or loved one.

This is what I realized this week. Let someone else worry about dollars and cents. This is where I want to be. This is the front lines. Sure it hurts, but some days, when you're riding a subway, and you get really quiet. You just might hear God in the tunnels of Budapest.

From the Eastern Front,

Jonathan

Keeping Things In Perspective

One big thing that God seems to be teaching me is about perspective. I'm not Mr. Webster or anything, but I would define perspective as the way you see things, or the viewpoint from which you observe a situation.

Work in Hungary is hard. It's very easy to get down, to take the perspective of negative futility. Even I have been guilty of this every so often. But is perspective something that is thrust upon us, or do we get to decide how we look upon a situation?

Albert Einstein was walking once when it started to rain. Taking his hat off of his head and tucking it under his jacket, he walked through the rain, soaking his hair. Someone commented to him incredulously, why would you take off your hat when it's raining, to which he replied that his hair would dry more quickly than his hat. He had a different perspective.

I'm a goal oriented person, and I like to achieve things. I like checking off tasks or feeling that I'm getting things done. Somedays here do not lend themselves to this kind of operating style. Recently during one of these tasks I got to spend some time with a friend that yielded important conversation. As I look back now, I can see that the most important part of that task wasn't the end result, but rather the conversation that came in the process. If I took the perspective that accomplishing my task was what made the moment worthwhile, I would have totally written off a tremendous opportunity to be with a friend.

Tonight my team the Indianapolis Colts lost to the New Orleans Saints in the Super Bowl. It's tempting to look at the score and be devastated. I'm saddened, and I know that tonight there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth in Indianapolis. But as I really contemplate this evening, I guess I'm deciding from what perspective I wish to view this night.

I honestly thought that I would be upset tonight. I joked with people that if the Colts lost, they should give me a week to mourn the loss. But honestly, while I would have preferred the Colts to win, it was truly a GAME. I think about this night, and I realize what tonight was really about for me.

Tonight wasn't about watching a football game. Tonight was about quality time with 9 Hungarians that I am proud to consider friends. Tonight was about fellowship, food, fun, and yes, some football. Tonight wasn't our ministry night. Friday night is ministry night, tonight was an impromptu party, with people making cookies, Chick-fil-a nuggets, drinking soda and energy drinks, laughing, telling jokes, making fun of cheerleaders, and Super Bowl commercials. While the score of the game wasn't what I was hoping for, tonight was what I needed. Tonight, my soul was ministered to, even in the midst of a Colts Super Bowl loss.

Part of dealing with homesickness I think it when you finally can get perspective. You miss your friends at home, but when you realize that you feel completely comfortable with the person next to you. That you enjoy and trust them, and that they truly enjoy and trust you. When you find yourself in authentic community, and while it appears so different than home, on a deeper level, it ministers to your soul. This is what I felt tonight.

I guess my goal tonight was to watch the Colts win a Super Bowl. That didn't happen. But in the process I found out that it wasn't nearly as important to me as enjoying the people God has brought into our lives.

For me it was just another sign that we're fitting in. It was another sign that we're making the transition from homesick missionary, to perhaps one of the gang. That's where I want to be. The Colts will win and lose games, and hopefully the will do more of the first, but at the end of the day, I must keep things in perspective. I'm starting to really like the view from here.

From Baths to Baptisms

I am an idea guy. I am fairly creative, which I think comes from the arts/history side of my brain. I'm sure I have a math/science side, but so far a doctor's have failed to locate it.

I like coming up with solutions. As a kid I wanted to be an inventor, and to this day I still enjoy watching fabrication shows on The Learning Channel. As an adult many of my friends have partaken in my edible creations such as Jonwiches, and Chaijon (I always put my name in the title).

A few months back I was presented with a new challenge. One of our youth had decided she would like to be baptized. The issue at hand was that our church is a small apartment church in Budapest. It occurred to me that we didn't have a set up for baptisms. She had asked to be baptized, and our field was desirous that it be done in front of our congregation. But how?

We talked about options. Everything from spray bottles to dunking in the Danube (which is not blue by the way), but in the Winter time, hyperthermia isn't a good idea. The other issue you must deal with is that Hungary has 1000 years of Catholicism. If you get too creative you run the risk of scaring people, even those comfortable with attending church in an apartment as opposed to the big Cathedral at the corner.

Almost every day I take a prayer walk. I walk to our missionaries homes and pray in front of them. I usually listen to some music, or an audio tape while I walk, sometimes a sermon podcast. This particular day I was praying for guidance.

As I approached a missionary home I observed a deep bathtub sitting out next to the fence. I had helped pick up a new shower for their neighbors and I knew they were doing a bathroom remodel. A thought struck me. I asked our fellow workers to approach the neighbor, who actually attend our church, about the bathtub. Long story short, we bought a bathtub for a good price, and they appreciated the financial help.

So when my parents visited over the Holidays, I grabbed my dad and began plotting and planning what we wanted to make. We made multiple runs to OBI (think home depot with a creepy voice hissing 'welcome to OBI' over the intercom every 90 seconds.) We sawed, we hammered, we got yelled at by the neighbors for making too much noise. Dad and I engineered a draining and filling system, and in the end, we converted a bath tub into our very own baptismal.

This month we will finally baptize not only one, but at least three people, possibly more. There has even been a suggestion of the former bath tub owner being baptized in this group. God has a sense of humor. Regardless, praise God for his creativity and provision. We will be videotaping the baptism and will post video links as soon as we can.

Jonathan for the Longs