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27 December 2013

Thoughts on Christmas Past, Present, Future.

The first Christmas I can remember took place in Colombia in 1983. I think it was 1983, I can’t remember exactly because this was the year that my parents, in their infinite wisdom, gave my brother (6 years older, by the way) a set of boxing gloves, thereby subjecting me to a series of mind-numbing beatings. Now that I think about it, it’s really a miracle I can remember anything at all.

In 1987 I recall that the vast majority of my gifts were apparently purchased at a travel plaza. Eighty percent of my presents had a shell gasoline logo on them. Didn’t matter to me though, that truck and trailer combo were pretty cool. That was also the same year we got a VCR, which basically allowed me to tape my favorite show, Air Wolf. Until that time I had never seen an episode all the way through since the show ran from 7-8 and bedtime was 7:30. This wasn’t the first year that I was to receive branded swag.

In 1991, I received a slick duffle bag and a football shaped telephone. The duffle bag was green with the Quaker State Oil logo on the side. Apparently my father received said bag for purchasing two cases of motor oil. The football phone, in case you forgot, came with a Sports Illustrated subscription, which I suspect was my brothers gift that year.

If you look on my bookshelf you’ll find a book that is perhaps my second most treasured book behind my Bible. On the inside of the hardcover the following is written:

The book was entitled “Eclipse of the Crescent Moon” by Geza Gardonyi. It was our Christmas in Hungary and my parents had purchased me a copy of the famous Hungarian novel based on real characters and events in Hungarian history. This book spawned my love affair with Hungarian history and laid the groundwork for the passion that God inspired in me for Hungary. As far as Christmas gifts go, it’s probably had the most profound effect on me of anything I’ve received. Not bad for $15.99.

I give my parents a little teasing about growing up without traditions and constant change. Our presents weren’t the most expensive name brand item, and some were ‘complimentary’, but we never doubted the love that was behind them.

This year I sat in my in-laws living room thinking about the fact that my children are now the MK’s. They’re living the life that I lived. I hope that they can avoid some of the struggles that I had. Perhaps the fact that I was an MK gives me a little more in common with my kids than most parents.

I was a lucky kid growing up as an MK. I saw and experienced life in a way that many never will. I never bought into that, ‘poor me’ garbage because we traveled around or didn't have a standard American Christmas. Christmas isn't American anyway.

I think my kids are pretty lucky too. Not because they have the greatest dad or anything, I don’t own a mug making such a claim. But my kids know that regardless of the place, the traditions, the change, or the gifts, that have a mom and dad who love the Lord and are serving him, and we love them more than anything else. As a father it’s my goal that they experience the best of being an MK, and I’ll do my best to limit the rough spots.

So next year, we celebrate Christmas back in Hungary. Christmas 2014 will find our family sitting around the tree, more than likely plastic, forging our own traditions in a land far from ‘home’. We’ll have hot cider, sing a few songs, and then presents. I don’t know yet what those will be. I haven’t seen a football phone in years. Now that I think about it, maybe Carter would like a copy of “Eclipse of the Crescent Moon”, or perhaps I’ll just let him read mine.

13 November 2013

The Sound of Silence

Have you ever just listened? I mean really listened?

I’m not talking about how we listen to the TV or the radio, or how we men exercise great listening skills when our wives need to share about something important (you do that right?). I’m talking about shutting it all off, turning your phone off, turning the TV off, no computer, nobody speaking, no distractions.

Yesterday in chapel, our speaker decided that we should take 5 minutes in this kind of environment. What’s 5 minutes right….well, when you’re just sitting in a chair with your eyes closed, not moving, not fidgeting, just simply being silent….it seems a little longer.

Here are my observations from our silent time.

“Wow, five minutes is a long time.”

“Is that the air conditioning or a water pipe, sounds like water running through a pipe.”

“The dishwasher in the staff kitchen is running.”

“How loud is that clock?! Seriously, how on earth do we have chapel in here with a minute hand CLICK, CLICK, CLICK’n away like that?!”

“Wow, do I normally breathe that loud? Everybody must be hearing me breathe.”

After five minutes of silence, a thought struck me. Why is it that I have never heard any of these things before, despite spending countless hours in this room? Seriously, I have been here before for hundreds of events and I have never once heard the clock, the dishwasher, or the water pipe. I didn’t realize I breathe so loudly, or that the person sitting in front of me did as well.

I realized that there is a whole world of sounds that I never hear, because I’m not listening for them. I’m simply too noisy to hear them, and all these sounds go unheard. My ears are turned off to the clock on the wall, the dishwasher, etc….in the same way that when I go to visit family in KY, I no longer hear the train roaring by despite the fact that it does so regularly and just down the road. I’ve tuned it out.

Then a thought occurred to me. Have I tuned out God?

I’m serious, I confess to complaining that I haven’t heard His voice lately. At times I really need to know what to do and He’s silent, and I have expressed my frustration to others. “IF God would just speak, I’d go in that direction, but He’s not saying anything!”

Perhaps God is saying something, but I’m not listening. There among the clock on the wall, the dishwasher and that water pipe is a still, small voice, and I am simply being too loud.

It’s not New Years, but I’ve made a new resolution and today I found myself in our small chapel upstairs. Why? Just to listen. And sure enough my old friends came back to me. There was a familiar clock on the wall, the water pipe humming, and the sound of the dishwasher was replaced with the muted conversations of those on the other side of the wall. And there was the still, small voice, a quiet whisper.

“Do not be afraid.”


07 November 2013

Frequent Flyer

“Sir can you help us?”

I looked up from my boarding pass to identify the person who made the request. I had just stepped aboard my airline flight and was checking my seat assignment one more time before making my way down the aisle.

“Excuse me,” I replied. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes sir,” a flight attendant said and moved slightly to reveal a woman standing behind her in the entrance of the aircraft. The woman was in her mid-60’s with shoulder length gray hair and a thin face that revealed concern and bewilderment. Her hand tightly gripped the handle of her carry-on suitcase.

“Do you fly a lot sir,” the flight attendant inquired. I replied that I did. “Would you be willing to help this lady to get situated?” “I’d be happy to,” I quickly answered.

As I turned and headed down the aisle with my new companion in tow, my first thought was, “Don’t they employ flight attendants to do this?” I asked for her seat number and discovered she was sitting behind me. We made our way down the aisle to her row. I helped stow her bag and get situated in her seat. It was then that our conversation began.

Over the next ten minutes or so as we waited for our fellow passengers to board, I learned that despite being in her 60’s this was her first time ever on an airplane. She told me that she knew it was safe, but she had always been afraid of flying and even confessed she had been crying at the gate before boarding.  After entering the plane she began to panic a little, and since there wasn’t another flight attendant around, the woman who had greeted her offered to find someone to help her….me.

What stuck with me from our conversation was a statement she made after sharing about her children and grandchildren in Atlanta. She said, “I guess I just have to want to see my grandkids more than I want to get off this airplane.”

A few days later I was recalling our conversation and realized how there are parallels between this woman’s fear of flying and our life in missions.

Preparing to move overseas presents a thousand questions in our minds. Not questions like, “Does God want us to go?” But seemingly more trivial ones like, “Where will we live?”, “who will our children play with?” or “Can we raise the all the financial support that we need?”  Don’t get me wrong, we are trusting God for our future, but we still do sometimes feel the stress of worry.

So much of our lives during these transitions seem up in the air. And as scary as it is, I think about the statement the lady shared with me and how it applies it to our own lives.

“We just want to see churches planted and growing more 
than being ‘home for the holidays.’”

“We just want to see lives transformed more than my kids growing 
up in America and playing American football.”

“We just want to share hope with young people more than we want 
the security of a paycheck and 401k”

“We just have to want God’s will, more than our own.”

So with that in mind we grip our bags tightly, we take a step onto the metaphorical plane, and we choose to want Him more than we want the trappings this life has to offer.

07 October 2013

Hello...hello...is anybody out there?


The last few weeks (months really), Jonathan and I have been discussing the state of our blog. We realize (quite shamefully) that we have not posted a blog for literally almost a year. The truth is that blogging isn’t just a fun way to share our lives, but that it really can be a chore. It requires discipline to post regularly. It requires effort to market and tell everyone how he or she should be reading our blog (and subsequently supporting our ministry). It requires (in my case, at least) inspiration and motivation to jot down my random thoughts into a cohesive article. And it requires that we actually have something important to say (well, maybe that’s not required for all the blogging world, but for us…we prefer it be the case).

And truthfully, the last year has been kind of a holding pattern for us. Oh, we’ve been busy. We’ve been working. And we’ve been making a difference for the kingdom (that’s our prayer, anyway)…but we really haven’t been doing the very thing that we want to do, or maybe even feel called to do. That fact coupled with all the aforementioned responsibilities means that we have failed to keep you informed. We have felt lackluster in our desire to write and share and post what’s going on, because frankly, our day-to-day life just isn’t that exciting.

Jonathan has been busy completing the learning platform for the Leadership Initiative project. OMS University (or OMSU) is starting to come together as he finalizes the production of training modules for use around the world by OMS missionaries and partners. I (Corinne) have been working faithfully with ECC (Every Community for Christ) providing financial administration and budget oversight.  In addition to my work responsibilities, I homeschool Carter (who is in the 2nd grade) and care for Noemi (who just turned 19 months) and Grant. Grant has been working through his therapists to develop those areas identified as delayed skills and progressing in the areas where we have seen deficits. He attends preschool three days a week to work on those things. The kids are all growing, learning and flourishing (as you would expect).

But all those things are not why you have come here. It’s (probably) not why you began supporting our ministry or following our blog. Many of you, if not all of you, jumped on this train back when we first started telling you about a place called Hungary. A little country in central Europe that called out to us and captured our hearts. God saw fit to draw us there and He somehow drew you to us and to our ministry.  And we can finally say with some relief that He is drawing us back. We don’t have all the details worked out, but God is slowly opening the door for us to return to our first love. We have a lot to do and some money to raise, but in early 2014 we will go again to reach Hungarians for Christ.

You may have gotten bored with us, or with our blog. You may not really know what we’ve been doing or why we’ve been doing it.  But we thank you. For your support. For your prayers. For your steadfast patience. Because we’re not done yet. And we hope you’re still out there.