Confetti, Silly String, Masks, and Streamers Everywhere!

Posted on February 17, 2013 by opendooreurope

Milan has just had its Carnivale celebration. Carnivale is the last hurrah before the carnal deprivation of Lent, and should technically be celebrated on Fat Tuesday (or Mardi Gras), the day before Ash Wednesday.

In Italy, however, Carnivale is celebrated for two weeks. Unlike the nearly naked and drunken celebrations of Carnivale in Brazil or Mardi Gras in New Orleans, Carnivale here is mostly for children. Confetti, Silly String in aerosol cans, streamers and costumes can be found in most every market and shop during the month of February. And a two week celebration means that a child can celebrate Carnivale with her grandparents in Parma one weekend and celebrate at home in Milan the next weekend.

One February I was in the small town of Iseo, Italy by the like-named lake. I was tired, so I sat on a bench near a place where the sidewalk narrowed. There was a boy about 3-4 years old in costume. His dad was also tired so they shared my bench. The boy had a bag of confetti and every time he saw another child approaching he pulled out a fistful and—POW!—showered the other kid with confetti. The giggling that followed was positively contagious. Then he would load up again and wait for his next victim. We passed an hour or so this way.

February of 2010 I was in Venice. I would never have deliberately gone to Venice during Carnivale because I don’t like being in crowds, but since I was there and it would probably be my only chance to do so, I went to St. Mark’s Square and watched the celebration. Venice’s Carnivale is quite a spectacle, with some of the most opulent and elaborate costumes I have ever seen. It reminded me of the costume party scene in Hitchcock’s “It Takes a Thief.” I was told that some people save up all year for their Carnivale costumes, and I can believe it. But it was a also an event for children. At one point, I found myself near a family with two children. The little boy kept tossing confetti on his little sister, who was too little to understand or appreciate the fun. Finally he got frustrated with her and turned and threw confetti on me. “Whee!” I giggled every time he did it, which made him keep doing it until his mother stopped him. I think she must have thought I was just being kind, but really I was having fun.

The very next day was when God told me about my ministry to Europe. I like to think that God will use me and the rest of the missionaries in Europe to bring revival, and then we’ll celebrate in a party that never has to end.

Yesterday celebrations ended here in Milan—just when I had gotten used to riding the subway with fairy princesses and Power Rangers! All that’s left is Carnivale’s detritus: confetti and spent streamers all over the ground, and silly string going gooey all over the walls. The city is really good about cleaning up after Carnivale, so there will be hardly a trace of its silly fun. I don’t normally mind the winter, but February really needs Carnivale’s fun. I think God knew that!

A Divine Appointment

Posted on February 9, 2013 by opendooreurope

Yesterday was a very full day of travel. I started from Florence, where I had stayed the night with missionary friends, and went from there to the Abruzzo region on the Adriatic coast. By choosing the less expensive, regional trains, I had to change trains twice. The regional trains are less expensive because they are older and they stop in all the stations along the way. So, travel which could have taken only a few hours, took six instead. But the nice thing about slower travel is that I can catch a nice nap on the train, which I did. I have learned not to fight the sleepy feeling if I don’t absolutely have to, and last night was a perfect example why.

When I arrived in Pescara, I went to the bus stop for the bus that would take me to the house of Bob and his family (Bob is the missionary there who I house-sat for during the last 2 summers—which you can read about in my book “Look, Listen, Love”). I know other missionaries there, but because of the brevity of my visit, I hadn’t planned on visiting for more than a brief coffee or at least a phone call. But God had other things in mind for me.

Not long ago, while I was still in North Carolina, I was inspired to start praying daily for divine appointments—both for myself and for my fellow missionaries. As soon as I arrived I got a phone call from Betty, who had heard from Bob that I was arriving. She and her husband are the other missionaries I had hoped to see, at least briefly. She said, “Do you know Daisy of Rebirth Ministries?” I told her that Daisy is a missionary I pray for daily, who I met at my home church in Milan a few years ago. She told me that Daisy is in town for a women’s conference, and that if I wanted to go, she would come pick me up. Of course I leapt at the opportunity. I hadn’t seen Daisy for over a year, and had heard that she had moved to Rome. This cut short my visit to Bob & his family, but we had a nice meal together and in our brief visit he caught me up on all the things that they are doing and things to be praying about.

Then after dinner, Betty, Daisy, and I went to the women’s conference. Daisy is the founder of Rebirth Ministries, which helps stop domestic violence. The focus of Rebirth is not only on educating and caring for women and children, but also on helping the abusers (which are not always men) to overcome rage issues and to find better ways of interacting than using fists. Although the conference took place in a church, there were also women there, invited by friends, who were not believers.

Daisy shared her vision for Rebirth Ministries, and her personal story. Daisy is from Argentina, and was twice widowed—one husband was one of the famed Desaparecidos “disappeared” persons, who was arrested and then simply vanished, never to be heard from again. Alone, she raised two daughters and was called to Italy in 1994. However, she didn’t immediately come to Italy, but prayed for Italy first, learned the language, and finished university. During this time, the issue of domestic violence came to her attention. When she put the call and the issue together, she understood why God wanted her in Italy, and so she came, forming Rebirth Ministries as a non-profit that meets in churches and schools throughout Italy. The next step will likely be to bring Rebirth to the prisons.

In Italy, the danger of violence from strangers is very low, but domestic violence is unfortunately very high. The police in bigger cities are beginning to respond to domestic calls, but in the small towns, they are still reluctant to interfere in “family” issues. And even when the police arrest the abuser, the victim rarely maintains the courage to press charges, preferring to continue to try and make the marriage work. In Italy, there is still a lot of shame attached to the issue of domestic violence because of the Catholic Church’s stance on divorce. Italian women are encouraged by their priests to stay in abusive marriages, and often feel like failures if they cannot make the marriage work, make their husband stop drinking or using drugs, or stop seeking the company of other women. And even among Protestant churches in Italy there is a lot of shame attached to divorce because the vast majority of Protestants in Italy are former Catholics.

One thing that Daisy shared was that many times when she speaks to groups like the one last night, someone invariably says, “But why Italy? Surely domestic violence is a problem in Argentina, too.” She admitted that it is, but much headway has been made in Argentina by others, whereas in Italy there is still much work to do. As she spoke, I realized (not for the first time) that Daisy does have a true call to Italy. She is being used mightily of God.

After Daisy spoke, Betty suggested that each person from the group give Daisy a brief word of feedback. The overwhelming response was positive, and one young woman shared her story of abuse for the first time in her life. It was very moving to see her tears, but also to hear the relief in her voice at finally being free to speak of it. And the most beautiful thing of all was that this young woman was not a believer, but now that she has seen the love of Jesus in action, I have no doubt that she will make a decision for Christ. Daisy spoke and prayed with her afterward, and arranged for follow-up counseling and care with the local church.

In a private moment I told Daisy about my personal observation that following Jesus always costs you something (He spoke of it in Matthew 19:29). I told her that for me the cost is having left my adorable grandson. But I encouraged her, saying, “But God always compensates me in the sweetest ways. The first time I saw my grandson, when he was two months old, he laughed for the very first time—with his grandma! And this visit, at eighteen months, he said ‘Grandma!’ for the very first time. He sees his other grandma almost every day, but he called me Grandma first!” Daisy was well able to relate because both of her daughters and all four of her grandchildren are far away in South America—the most recent was born two months premature just a week ago. He weighs only one kilo—about two and a quarter pounds. She is going to Brazil to visit Pedro, her newest grandson, next week.

Serendipity—Another Word for Coincidence

Posted on September 24, 2012 by opendooreurope

Dictionary.com defines serendipity as having an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident; good fortune or luck. http://dictionary.reference.com/. If you know God, then you know that He is in control, and there are no accidental desirable discoveries nor luck.

I started to write the first part of this post between flights back in August when I returned to Texas to help Mom move to another state. Moving is a very busy, exhausting activity, so I had never finished writing it. The second part happened yesterday afternoon, and the third part happened this morning, which served as the catalyst to finish writing.

My Brazilian Buddies

Greetings from Dallas!

Today is a travel day, so I’m writing this between flights. I came back to the US to help my mom move. When I checked in at Milan Malpensa Airport three hours ahead, like they say to do, of course there was no one to check in with. I don’t know why I keep showing up three hours early for these early morning flights, but having missed a flight because of a very crowded airport check in line, I want to avoid missing another flight. The only other people there were a Brazilian father and daughter. They were also flying across the Atlantic today. We talked, and became friends, trapped together as we were, waiting for a ticketing agent to show up.

A ticket agent did eventually show up and check us into our flight. We were flying to Frankfurt first, and then I would fly to Dallas. When I was checked in, and passed through security, I found my gate at the far end of the terminal. But we had stood there waiting for the ticket agent for such a long time (over an hour) that I felt like I needed to walk the kinks out. And since I wanted to buy a bottle of water and a last cappuccino before leaving Italy, I walked past our gate area in search of an open coffee shop. I heard someone running up behind me, with urgency in his voice saying, “Signora! Signora!” I turned around and it was the Brazilian father. He told me, “The gate is back this way.” I thanked him, explaining about the need for a walk and a cappuccino.

Having satisfied both needs, I returned to the gate and sat in the open seat next to the father and daughter. While waiting for boarding I became very drowsy. Father and daughter got to their feet and headed for the line as soon as boarding started. I waited, in no hurry to be confined to an airline seat any longer than absolutely necessary. So they were among the first to board, while I was one of the very last.

On the plane I found my seat, stowed my backpack, buckled up, and promptly fell into a deep sleep. Those who know me know of my ability to fall asleep quickly and deeply sitting up in a car or on a plane. I believe that this is a gift from God for a missionary who travels as much as I do for ministry.

As we were about to land I woke up and reached for the bottle of water that I had brought. In my peripheral vision I saw a boldly striped blue shirt on the person sitting next to me—it was the Brazilian father with his daughter next to him in the window seat. “It’s you!” I exclaimed, and we laughed about how I had been so sleepy that I hadn’t even looked to see who was sitting next to me. I told them that it had been very pleasant traveling with them, even if I hadn’t known it was them. And as we parted, I wished them a buon viaggio (good travels). And I marveled at how funny life is sometimes.

Going to Church

Yesterday was my favorite day of the week: Sunday. I love Sunday because I love going to church. I love going to church so much that I go to my own church in the morning, and another in the afternoon. I go to two churches in the US, too. The reason I love going to church is not the music (though the music is excellent) or the preaching (which is also excellent) or even the fellowship (which is wonderful). The reason I love going to church is because I always go expecting to meet God—and I’m never disappointed! When you expect to meet God, He always shows up.

I go and sit as close to the front as I’m allowed (some churches reserve the very front row for leaders and/or the worship team). I sit down front so that I won’t be distracted. This is especially important if the service is in Italian, which it is at my home church here in Milan. From that place down front I find freedom to worship God with complete abandon. In the past years when I sat back toward the middle, I found that I became self-conscious because those around me didn’t raise their hands or dance in worship. Down front, where I can’t see what others are or are not doing, I just worship God from my heart and my spirit, completely uninhibited. It is possible that there are people behind me watching me and wondering what kind of an exhibitionist-lunatic I am. But since I can’t see them, and since I don’t know what they’re thinking, it doesn’t concern me in the least. I would rather be David than Michal, and being down front allows me the freedom to dance like David (2 Samuel 6:16-23).

After church I went home with the intention to rest and then go to the afternoon service of the sweet little church in Monza. But I rested a little too well and fell asleep. When I woke up, it was clear that I would be late getting to church, even if each train was right there, waiting to take me. I considered going to the church up the road, instead. But when I prayed about it, I felt like God wanted me to go catch the train to Monza.

So I walked to the train station, and once inside, I was coming off the stairs and onto the platform when a young man said, “Do you speak English?” I said yes, and he asked if the train would stop at the Porta Garibaldi train station—the same train station that I needed to take to get to Monza. I explained that all the trains on the Passante line stop at all the stations in the city. Relieved, he asked me if I was on vacation, and I told him that I’m a missionary here. His smile got wider, and he said, “Well, what do you know! I’m on my way to church.” He explained that he just arrived from Australia as a student, and that his mother had found him an English-speaking church on the internet. It was one I had heard of, but it had closed down some years earlier, as far as I knew.

Now it was my turn to smile more broadly, I said, “Hey! If it’s OK with you, I’ll go with you.” He was very happy to have my company, so we went together, following the directions sent to him via e-mail.

It turns out that the English-speaking church has a mostly young congregation composed of students, like my new Aussie friend. The music was great and the preaching was solid. I love young churches! This was truly a gift from God—and all because I was late for church! God is good!

Coming to Church

But that’s not the whole story of so-called serendipity. The pastor of my home church in Milan made an announcement yesterday as the service was ending, saying that the last Sunday of the month would be evangelism Sunday, and that we should each bring someone to church with us. I prayed about who I should invite, and Barbara immediately came to mind.

I have known Barbara for most of my eleven years in Milan. And I’ve often wondered if she might be one of the reasons why God keeps me in this neighborhood, where I’m currently occupying my third apartment.

This morning I had to go to the gas company to set an appointment for them to turn on the gas. On the way home I stopped by the street market to buy a few things. I love walking through the street markets, but today it was drizzling. Rainy days at the street market can be miserable, but drizzle isn’t so bad. Suddenly, there was Barbara. I’ve had it happen before that I’ll be thinking of her and she suddenly is there. Between her work, my travel, and my move, I hadn’t seen her for over a year. We had a joyous reunion right there in the market, and I invited her to come to church. I had invited her before, but something always interfered and stopped her from coming. She assured me of her interest, but said that she doesn’t know if she will have to work. So I told her that I will call her on Saturday.

Barbara has been interested and asking questions for years now, and this time I believe that she will come to church and meet her Savior. Serendipity? No way! This is the hand of God, and God is good!

Walking By Faith in Europe

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