Bitterness

Posted on April 13, 2015 by opendooreurope

Bitterness is a strongman of the enemy. Just as there are ranks of angels (like in the armed forces), there are also ranks of fallen angels and demons. Bitterness is a high-ranking evil spirit, but it comes in so subtly and so gradually that we’re unaware that we have even strayed into the enemy’s territory. Here’s how it all works:

Unforgiveness – It all starts with unforgiveness. Someone hurts you. They say or do something that hurts you. You must understand that people were not made to hurt, betray, or be mean to each other. It is not in our original design. But under the influence of the demonic voices all around us, we can inadvertently say or do something that hurts another person.

You are probably not even aware of it, but there are voices speaking to us all the time. There is the voice of God, and there is the voice of the enemy—and we don’t even realize that we are listening to the enemy and being influenced by him. So when someone says or does something to hurt you, they are acting on what they are hearing from the enemy.

Then you respond, acting on what you are hearing from the enemy. The enemy says, “How could she say that about me?” and you repeat it as if it was a thought born from your own mind: “How could she say that about me?”

Every time you think you might be over the hurt, the enemy reminds you of it so that you have a very hard time getting over that hurt. Unforgiveness is a small spirit, but now that it has been welcomed into your heart, it becomes very hard to forgive.

Resentment – Then resentment joins unforgiveness. Under resentment’s tutelage you vow never to speak to that person again, to never allow that person to hurt you again.

Retaliation – The spirit of retaliation goads you into getting some satisfaction for the hurt you’ve suffered. Retaliation promises to feel so good, but in fact can get you into a whole lot of trouble. Retaliation actively seeks to prevent blessing from coming into the offender’s life. Now, ask yourself, who exists to prevent blessings from coming into people’s lives?

Anger, Wrath, & Murder – When unforgiveness is finally joined by its bigger, stronger brothers, it is very difficult to go back and forgive. Of course, not all unforgiveness ends in physical murder, but it can often end in character assassination. We’ve all heard of an unforgiving father say to his son: “You’re dead to me.” In his mind, the father has murdered the son, and the relationship is as good as dead from then.

People think that negative emotions, such as anger, depression, and unforgiveness, are merely emotions. In fact, they are not emotions at all. They are demons that can be cast out or sent away. I have suffered lengthy very profound bouts of depression. I was unaware that depression was a spirit at the time, but during the worst depressions I suffered suicidal thoughts and even suicidal hallucinations that I knew were not originating from my own mind. I wasn’t possessed, but rather, I was suffering terrible demonic oppression.

Bitterness wants to produce fruit in your life: hatred, cruelty, revenge, self-pity, hypocrisy, jealousy, competition, frustration, and confusion. Yes, even a little thing like competition, which American culture says is healthy, is in fact a foothold for the enemy. Think about how many times you’ve seen someone get frustrated that the game didn’t go their way, and they turn the board over, scatter the cards everywhere, or they let the game’s physical side become too violent.

Self-pity is not an emotion, it’s a spirit. It brings thoughts of entitlement—entitlement that has been violated. Once we become aware of the enemy’s tactics, we can guard ourselves from jumping to the enemy’s camp. I don’t want to give the enemy even the smallest victory over myself.

Bitterness can be present in your life without you even being aware of it. And once this process is begun, it is very difficult to reverse it. Sometimes you will have lived under the influence of bitterness for such a long time that you might not even believe that you are bitter.

Let me show you how bitterness can enter in: the offender, under the influence of the enemy says or does something that is truly wrong, evil, and bad. The spirit of bitterness has been standing by, and takes that moment of offence to push its way into your heart. Were you wronged? Absolutely. That is how the enemy works: by pushing his way in. There’s no waiting for an invitation. When you’re at your most vulnerable, he pushes his way in and begins speaking poisonous thoughts to you, playing on outrage, embarrassment, humiliation, hurt pride, physical suffering, violated boundaries, etc. You believe these thoughts to be your own, when they are not. And thus, piece by piece bitterness builds until it has become anger. Anger can be so strong and so swift that it is literally just a heartbeat away from murder.

Forgiveness is a decision, not an emotion. You can decide to forgive. And that decision takes follow-through. There were some people in my life that I have had to forgive all over again every time they came to my mind. And I always did so, hoping for the day when that decision to forgive would finally become an emotional fact. But true forgiveness did not come until I went back (in my mind and memory) to the time of the offense and forgave it there. In that final act of forgiveness, I had to consciously give up all my rights to be angry or outraged at the offense. The next time that person came to mind, the thought that came almost reflexively into my mind was: how could she possibly have known how precious I am to God? My only feeling toward her, even remembering what she had done to me was pity that she hadn’t known how precious I am to God.

Forgiving was made easier once I understood the enemy hiding behind the person used to hurt me. In truth, I have also been used by the enemy to hurt other people. When you truly can grasp the realities hidden from our eyes, it becomes so much easier to give people the mercy and grace that we hope for from them, too.

Giving in to a spirit of bitterness or forgiving as generously as God has forgiven us is a life-changing decision. Bitterness can prevent blessings in your life. And through bitterness, the enemy might use you to prevent blessings in the lives of others. Worse than all that, it can bring curses, especially in the form of physical illness. Anger, hatred, and bitterness go coursing through your veins like a caustic, like poison. If you’re aware, you might even feel it burning in your veins.

Giving up your right to be angry at an offense can feel like dying to yourself—in fact, that’s exactly what it is. But you won’t truly begin to live until you do die to yourself. It’s part of God’s upside-down logic that turns the world’s logic on its head. Why is it so hard? Because you are making a frontal attack on your own pride.

Make a decision to begin seeing people the way God sees them—ask God to help you to see people the way He sees them. You will find that you have more love and mercy for them, and forgiveness will flow easier and easier. More than that, blessings will flow in your own life as never before.

So let go of your anger and bitterness! God is good!

BBQ Becomes Ministry

Posted on April 12, 2015 by opendooreurope

There was music and dancing at the BBQ.

I was invited to a grigliata in Biella. A grigliata is a barbecue. This was for Pasquetta, which is Easter Monday. I had just met Caroline, a missionary who I immediately thought could turn out to be a valuable collaborator. Caroline is a sweet little Italian-American with a big smile and a bigger heart.

The day after Caroline arrived, I had a young missionary coming to visit from Prague. It was exhilarating to watch Caroline in action with Debbie: now cheering her, now helping her, now questioning her false assumptions—and all done in love. Debbie was here overnight, and after we saw her off, we made our plans to go to Biella.

When we got there, the BBQ was in full swing. There was lots of food, music, dancing, and games, in other words: fun. Even though I had already visited Biella a few weeks ago, the greeting I got was as warm as if I had been gone a year.

There was a young woman at the BBQ who I knew slightly: Bo. She greeted me, then sat with Caroline, sharing her story for the next half hour or so. I already knew a little of Bo’s story, but learned more from hearing her pour out her heart to Caroline:

I’m a gypsy from Albania. Well, OK, my mother was a gypsy and my father was a Serb. My father left before I was born and my mother died when I was five years old. A nice neighbor took me in and raised me as her own. At fifteen I was sold in a marriage contract to another gypsy. He raped me, and I became pregnant with my daughter. He was very cruel and controlling. I can’t tell you all the ways that he abused me sexually. So I ran away from him and came to Italy.

Bo told Caroline all this with no trace of emotion in her voice or on her face. This much of the story, I had already heard. Then Caroline asked for more details about her daughter and step-mother. It turns out that they were in hiding in a town just across the border in France. And the ex-husband? He was looking for her in a larger town in France, where she had put her daughter in school back at the beginning of the school year. Somehow, he had tracked her down there. “He is waiting there for my daughter to go back to school after the holiday, but he doesn’t have the right to take her from the school.”

Many years ago, when I worked at a daycare center, I had seen a father under a restraining order snatch his child right from the yard, just by calling him to come to the fence and talk. So I knew that the school’s rules didn’t mean that the daughter was safely out of reach.

But how had he tracked them down here—and why had he gone to the expense and trouble of following them? The answer to the second question is a repeat of history: Bo had been sold in marriage, and the daughter, though still too young to marry, could still be promised in a marriage contract to be sold when she turns fifteen. A more sinister possibility is that the daughter might be sold even now to traffickers for a life of prostitution. Either way, losing the girl was a financial loss for the father. Bo said that a virgin girl could be sold for as high as €10,000 for one night. But whether traffickers or marriage, Bo wanted a better life for her daughter.

It turns out that the father had tracked Bo down simply by watching her posts on Facebook. Her posts and pictures on social media, intended to keep family and friends informed of her whereabouts, had also kept her husband informed. Now he was threatening to take the girl, with the help of the French police. If she doesn’t show up at school, then she will be truant. Being a gypsy, the girl already has a lot going against her. Truancy could jeopardize her asylum in France and cause the girl to fall even farther behind in school.

Caroline sensed that she was holding something back because she could just as easily bring the girl into Italy, apply for asylum here, and put her into an Italian school. Bo said that God had told her to go back to Albania and get the gypsy divorce there. But when questioned, she broke down and admitted that it was her step-mother that was pressuring her to go back to Albania. The step-mother was convinced that this would solve the problem and get the husband off her back. And Bo admitted that she was considering it. But if she did that, she would have to take her daughter back to Albania with her, and there was a possibility that the gypsy council could decide that the daughter belongs to her father.

“Why would you even consider going back?” I wanted to scream the question. Bo shrugged, having no answer.

I realized later that probably, having been the one who had sold Bo to this man in a marriage contract, the step-mother was pushing the gypsy divorce to save face in the gypsy community back home.

Caroline, seeing that there was a lot of cultural issues and some underlying issues that Bo was still hiding, made the wise suggestion that we all just stop and pray. So we prayed and put the whole thing into God’s hands. As we prayed for her, Bo’s shoulders shook as weeping erupted from within her. Then we left her.

I don’t know what Bo will do or what will happen with her. But we have done all that we can to help her make a good decision that will keep her daughter and herself protected. I know that if Bo will depend on God for help in making those tough decisions, He will protect her and her daughter. However, these are Bo’s decisions to make. In the end, we each have to decide whether to trust God or not.

But I know this much: although God will not save you from the consequences of your bad decisions, He can be trusted to guide you and protect you when you surrender your life completely to Him. God may take you by some ways you do not want to go, but His way is always better. God is faithful. God is trustworthy. And as I always say: God is good!

Revival is Coming!

Posted on March 30, 2015 by opendooreurope

Today has been an amazing, great, fabulous, fun, wonderful day in the life of this missionary. It started about 6:30 this morning, when Giorgio, a young man from our church, arrived after an all-night prayer vigil. He needed a place to sleep, and offering hospitality is what I do—part of what I do.

So basically, I was waking up just as he was coming in to sleep. Good timing on his part, since the first thing I do is to enjoy some quiet time with the Lord and read the Bible over a cup of coffee. Being Saturday, I wanted to honor the Lord’s Sabbath by not doing any work. But I work for the Lord, so it’s kind of hard to know what’s really work and what’s OK to do on the Sabbath. I asked the Lord to help me to honor Him today, and He gave me a one word answer: delve. I understood this as delving deeper into His Word.

I did spend more time than usual reading the Bible, then over breakfast, I watched one of Jim Staley’s Hebrew Alphabet teachings—delving some more. Absolutely fascinating! I encourage you to check it out. The language of God is like none other on earth. It is a supernatural language, it is a multi-dimensional language, this is the language God used to create the universe by speaking it into being.

I was watching the video about the letter Hey, and about three quarters of the way through the video, my calendar popped up with an appointment I had thought was next Saturday. I had responded that I would go, and it was something I really wanted to go to. So I got myself into gear, dressed, left notes for Giorgio, and went across town to the meeting.

This meeting was concerning Expo on 4 Wheels, a bus that’s basically a mobile church with a coffee bar and a library. The bus is a joint effort between local churches and missionary organizations to focus on sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ at the Expo (1 May through 31 October) here in Milan.

It turns out that there are three major ways that you can help Expo on 4 Wheels:

Pray – The Expo will draw an estimated 21 million visitors from more than 130 different countries, many of whom have likely never heard the Gospel message. This is a unique opportunity to share the love of Jesus with millions of people. But for this, they need prayer support.
Participate – The bus won’t be very effective without people getting out there and reaching people with the love of Jesus. Groups of any size are invited to participate. To sign up, contact Missione REM.
Donate – As you can imagine, an operation like this costs a lot of money. If you want to invest in the Kingdom of God, you can do so on their website using PayPal or making a wire transfer: Donation.

So there was a lot of good information about reaching the world while there are lots of visitors here in Milan. But when we started to pray, was when God really showed up and blew my mind. The Holy Spirit reminded me of a vision that I had seen ten or more years ago:

I saw a lighthouse grow up out of Milan, and it gave light to the city. It kept growing and gave light all over Italy. It kept growing and gave light all over Europe. And finally it grew so big that it gave light all over the world.

I understood the vision to be about revival. But revival didn’t come, and didn’t come. Friends said that revival would start in Sicily, in Naples, and other parts of Europe, wherever they were from. One even told me that the big End Times Revival had already started in Sicily. Finally I simply forgot about the vision. Until today.

So when the prayer ended, I said that I had a vision to share, and told them about this vision, and about how I had actually seen it years ago. A man immediately came forward and shared that he also had the same vision—and had it years ago, just like I had. My excitement doubled with this instant confirmation.

Then we went out to look at the bus. It is still being worked on, but it’s going to be beautiful. There’s a very cozy and welcoming sitting area, a library area, and a coffee/snack kitchen. I know the Lord is really going to use this bus, and all the people, churches, and organizations connected with it. Revival is coming!

Then I came home and found a message from Suki, introducing me to an American woman (Italian-American in heritage) who is moving to Italy. She doesn’t know exactly where or what she’ll be doing, but she knows that God has called her here. Suki is God’s beautiful networking tool, and He has used her several times to connect people. But it was the Holy Spirit inside of me, even more than Suki, that convinced me that I need to meet this woman. So I’ve invited her to come for a visit. But that’s a post for another time.

Revival is coming! This is it: The Big End Times Revival! If you want to be a part of it, you can follow the links above, get more information, register, get a team together and come to Milan. You can also register on GoMissions. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to miss out on what God is doing. God is good!

Saving the Girls

Posted on April 17, 2014 by opendooreurope

Part Two

Moldova is the poorest country in Europe, and poverty means vulnerability. Sometimes, as noted in yesterday’s post, a family will either abort or abandon children that they can’t afford to keep. So Moldova’s orphanages are filled with children who are not truly orphans, but are simply abandoned. Being the poorest country in Europe, and having the responsibility for so many orphans means that the orphanages cannot do more than simply keep their little charges alive. When an orphan reaches the age of eighteen, they are given a small amount of money and a bus ticket to the nearest city. Traffickers know this and often cruise the bus stops by the orphanages looking for young girls to whisk away into a life of prostitution. And, having no other life skills, they really have no other alternative.

Sometimes, in exchange for money, the orphanage directors will cooperate with the traffickers by letting them know when girls will be released. And sometimes, the orphanage directors, themselves, become traffickers, opening the orphanage as a child brothel, and selling the girls into a life of prostitution when they are released.

Rescuing these girls from prostitution is the focus of several ministries here in Moldova. In Trans Istria we saw the construction site of a church that wants to house girls, teach them life skills and job skills, and help get them started into a better life. The church doesn’t currently have enough money to finish the building project, so they are using the help of missionaries who come as volunteer help. Even if you are not skilled in construction, but you want to help, any extra pair of hands is very gratefully put to work in various ways, and for whatever length of time you can come. You can contact us through the GoMissions website for more information.

Our visit yesterday to Irena and Olga, the mother and daughter team that works in the Pregnancy Crisis Center in Chisinau is another organization that helps these at-risk girls. Orphans and the rescue of prostitutes is not the primary focus.

Stella’s Voice is a ministry based in the UK that also rescues at-risk girls. You can contact them on their website for ways that you can help their ministry help these girls.

Traditionally, law enforcement (worldwide) has jailed and prosecuted the prostitutes, themselves. But the fact is that few prostitutes choose that lifestyle. The ones who do choose to go into prostitution have all been molested as children, so that they have come to believe that it is only through sex that they have value. Therefore, it is not only wrong to jail prostitutes, but also a waste of resources, since it only effects the supply in a very small way without diminishing the demand at all.

The only country in the world that has been able to drastically reduce prostitution (by 80 percent) is Sweden. Instead of prosecuting the prostitutes, Sweden prosecutes the johns—and does so publicly. In fact, anyone traveling to, from, or through Sweden for the purpose of buying the services of prostitutes (sex tourism) is jailed and denounced in the Swedish media.

Unfortunately, Moldova is far too poor to address the problem of prostitution at all. But the western countries to which these girls are trafficked do have the resources. Any country that really wants to help these girls, or at the very least to stop prostitution within their borders, should follow the Swedish model. I suspect that the problem is that most politicians don’t care about prostitutes and/or the police are in some way involved (financially or by receiving favors). My criticism is not limited to the countries of Western Europe, but worldwide, including my own. It is within the power of our government to stop prostitution. But do they want to. America, do you want to stop prostitution?

Saving the Girls

Posted on April 16, 2014 by opendooreurope

Part One

This morning we went to visit a mother and daughter team (Olga and Irena) who help girls with “problem pregnancies.” In other words, they help girls who find themselves unhappily pregnant to make the right decision about their babies and their lives. Irena pointed out how unusual their partnership is in Moldova, where mothers and daughters are frequently at odds with each other. The generation gap in Moldova is wider than the Grand Canyon. But through Jesus Christ, they are as much sisters as they are mother and daughter.

Besides helping young girls, they also help married women who find themselves pregnant with a baby they can’t afford to keep (most Moldovan families who cannot afford to care for their children either abort or abandon them). They also help fathers and at-risk families, and do post-abortion counseling. And they help the children born as a result of their efforts with a daycare program.

Irena, the daughter, translated for her mother, who told us about how she became involved with this ministry. Olga had been working in an important, high-paying job when God called her to this work. She was able to do both for a while and then the director of the ministry left, and she was asked to take over the directorship. Olga thought and prayed long and hard about it because it would mean giving up her apartment (owned by her company), and taking a dramatic cut in pay. She asked four people to pray about it, and all four came back with the same answer as she had gotten: that she must take the directorship. Then Olga asked God for four very specific signs, and she got all four signs. So she made a deal with God: “If I do my part, then You’ve got to do Your part and help me out.” I laughed at that point and told her what my pastor in Texas says: “If your ministry doesn’t scare you, then it’s not from God.” She laughed and said, “Then it was definitely from God.”

So Olga took over the directorship, and the money came in as needed. Of course, the most important thing that they do is to introduce each person that enters the center to Jesus. Only Jesus can help them to have a better life.

Now they have bigger needs. Olga has big dreams: to open a house for unwed mothers, with a training center in which they can teach job skills as well as baby care. In addition there would be a day care center and counseling center. They would also like to open a school for the children, the first of whom are now almost school aged. I love the faith to dream big like that, and I pray that they will find the funding to make their dream a reality.

If you have it in your heart to help this ministry, please make a donation. Any amount would be so greatly appreciated! You can make a tax-deductible donation on the European Faith Missions website. At the same time, please send me an e-mail (abrown@europeanfaithmissions.com) to let me know that you want your donation to go to the Pregnancy Crisis Center of Chisinau in Moldova. Do good because God is good!

Our Trip into No-Man’s Land

Posted on April 16, 2014 by opendooreurope

Tone me down!!!

Today we are going to Tiraspol in Trans Istria (also called Transnistria or Transdniestria because of the river Dniester that divides it from the rest of Moldova), an autonomous region of Moldova. Trans Istria is Communist and doesn’t want to be part of Moldova. In fact, they have sent a request to President Putin of Russia to become part of Russia. His response was that he would consider their request in due time (presumably to give him time to conquer the region of Odessa in Ukraine). This is wonderful for us because if he had said yes right away, then we would not be able to go there without a visa and an invitation. As it is, we were invited, and are going to visit Natasha, one of the teachers who had come to the conference, and to sit in on her English class.

We have to be very careful about how we travel. Although we have a van, we will be taking a bus there. On the bus we will need to be careful to blend in as much as possible, which means no loud talking among ourselves, no laughing or smiling, no conversation with the people around us, and not volunteering any information about ourselves or our reason for entering the region. At the checkpoint, we will be asked to show our passports and to fill out a form about ourselves and our reason for entering. We were instructed to give as little detail as possible, and to refuse to fill in the entire form. Our reason for entering is tourism, and since we will be exiting the region tonight, they can’t force us to fill in the entire form.

For me, keeping a low profile is not a problem except that my bright red hair, cut in a strange style, and my brightly-colored wardrobe tend to draw attention. Had I known about this when packing for the trip, I would have packed appropriate clothing. But I came up with a plan: I will wear my gray T-shirt inside-out. At least that much will be plain as plain can be. I can’t do anything about my lime green jacket or multi-colored scarf and hat. But perhaps it will be warm enough that I won’t need them . . . at least that’s what I hope.

So with this rather scary prospect in mind, we sat over supper and without planning to do so, we got all the silliness out of our systems. Sally started it with a hilarious translation of a Polish phrase for “dinner is served.” From there the evening progressed into more and more laughter and giggles, howling and chuckling. We frequently asked ourselves what we’ll do at the checkpoint if a fit of laughter overtakes us. But I don’t think it will. We really laughed so hard that our sides were aching.

The mission house’s landline to God–we laughed until we cried!

The Next Day

Our trip to Tiraspol went very smoothly. We took very little with us, besides our cameras, some money, passports (of course), and umbrellas in case it rains. We were given the checkpoint form to fill out at the bus station in Chisinau. The bottom half of the form was exactly like the top half, so I filled in only the top. But we were told to fill in both halves.

About half an hour later, at the checkpoint, the guard took a look at my form and passport. He shoved the form back at me immediately, saying something in Russian. Jurek translated, “You need to fill in your father’s name.” And what they wanted was my father’s first name. Then the guard took a very long time, perhaps checking me out on the internet. Finally, he handed my passport back with only the lower half of the form, which he had stamped. Eventually, we all got through the checkpoint without any problem.

The most obvious difference between Trans Istria and Moldova was that the roads were noticeably better in Trans Istria. Also, the signs in Moldova are in either Moldovan (essentially Romanian) or Russian or both. In Trans Istria, the signs were exclusively in Russian. I remembered what I had learned of the Cyrillic alphabet in Bulgaria, and was able to figure out some of the signs we saw: аптека (pharmacy), фото (photo), телефон (telephone), and кофе (coffee).

Natasha met us at the bus stop and led us two blocks away to the church. The church has rented space in an enormous ex-Soviet exhibition center. Natasha took us upstairs to meet her English club, and there the five of us split up and joined in the groups. In my group I met Jessie, an American girl from San Francisco—where I grew up. Talk about a small world. Jessie was there with the World Racers, a group of young adults who sign on to do missions in eleven countries in eleven months. What an adventure!

Over lunch Natasha told us some easy and fun ways to remember simple Russian phrases.

Natasha’s Crash Course in Russian:

Godzilla? (Как дела?) – How are you?
Space Bob (спасибо) – Thank you
Yellow blue bus (Я тебя люблю) – I love you

I think that if Natasha’s English classes are as fun as her little Russian lesson, then she must be a really fun teacher.

On the bus home the woman across from me had a rabbit in her lap. We laughed about how scared we had been about the checkpoint and the KGB, and instead we rode home with a fluffy bunny. God is good!

The fluffy bunny on the bus ride home

Take it Personally!

Posted on July 27, 2013 by opendooreurope

God has been meeting us here in very personal ways, providing just what we need (or want!) at just the right time. For me, there were 4 things that people either did for me, gave to me, or that were simply there for me, and nobody knew where they had come from.

Scarf

The day before I left for Rome I was given a scarf. I put it in my backpack and really forgot about it until the first morning in Rome. We had a pre-breakfast prayer meeting by the swimming pool each morning. Rome was hot, but not at 6:30AM. So having that scarf to throw over my shoulders was just perfect. It felt like a smile from God. I have also needed the scarf on the buses here in Malta because they are hyper-uber-air-conditioned and freezing cold. After a roasting hot day, getting on a freezing bus when you’re all sweaty feels really good—at first. But our bus ride is about 25 minutes, which is plenty of time to get frozen. So again, having the scarf to throw over my shoulders has been a real blessing and a life-saver.

Pearl

In the Malta airport I found a pearl on the ground. As many of you know, I have recently opened my apartment in Milan as a missionary guesthouse. What you might not know is that I named it Pearl House because of a dream that God gave me while I was fasting and praying. In the dream I saw people lined up on the sidewalk in front of the apartment building. Each person had a bag overflowing with pearls in their hands. When I woke up, I realized that these were missionaries taking the Pearl of Great Price (the Gospel) to people in Europe. So finding that pearl was significant in a very personal way.

Chicken Dinner

Yesterday I took a day off from the Prayer Center to rest, get some laundry done, and work on the computer. We have had all our meals provided for us, but they have been brought to the Prayer Center. I had spied a can of tuna and figured that I would just put tuna on crackers, and that would be fine for dinner. But then the dance team woke up from their nap and made a delicious chicken dinner, and they invited me to share it with them. They were going to do the overnight shift at the Prayer Center, and opted to get a good nap and arrive too late for dinner. So instead of cold tuna on crackers, I got a lovely chicken dinner with oven fried potatoes and a delicious fresh fruit salad.

Yogurt

This morning I got up early and caught the first morning bus to the Prayer Center. I had a cup of coffee before leaving, but I usually don’t wake up hungry. As I walked into the Prayer Center I wanted a second cup of coffee and something to eat. My favorite breakfast is a crunchy granola cereal with plain yogurt over it. On the kitchen counter sat a cup of plain yogurt. There were 3 people in the Prayer Room, so I asked if the yogurt belonged to anyone. They all said that they didn’t know anything about it. But I know: it was a breakfast treat from my Father, who loves me personally and intimately. God is good!

Dancing in the Church

Posted on July 26, 2013 by opendooreurope

There was a gathering at the Prayer Center Wednesday with lots of children in attendance. I don’t know if it was planned this way, but it became a children’s celebration. Herbie played children’s praise songs, all of us danced to the songs and played the musical (mostly percussion) instruments available. Then the children made pictures of what it feels like to know that Jesus loves me (inspired by the song of the same name!).

The best part for me was when the children came around and prayed for us. There was dinner brought in by the wonderful people who have committed to cooking for us, and it was a very fun evening.

Then I stayed to do another overnight shift in the Prayer Center. I don’t know why, but the second time was harder than the first. Several times I found myself struggling to find God’s presence (even though He’s always there!). It was again only 3 of us, but this time without Herbie.

Although it was a more difficult night for prayer, it was a wonderful night for interpersonal relationships between the 3 of us. There was Mi Kyong from Korea, who lives as an underground missionary in the 10/40 window. I only personally know a few underground missionaries, but I have big, big respect for them and their courage. Interestingly, Mi Kyong told me that in Korea, the churches treat missions as a call to suffering. She said this while we were laughing and dancing with the children. Mi Kyong loves children and when there is a child present, all her attention goes to the child—even if she was in the middle of a conversation.

The 3^rd member of our trio for the night was Zeppi, a quiet little Maltese man with a speech impediment and a big heart. I found out that Zeppi is short for Guzeppi, a Maltesination of the Italian name Giuseppe (Joseph). When he was introduced to me, he shyly pulled out a sheet of paper, filled with single-spaced type on both sides. It was his testimony of how he came to know Jesus, and it ended with his contact information and an invitation to get together over a cup of coffee. Zeppi didn’t want either his shyness or his speech impediment to stop him from sharing Jesus.

While Mi Kyong and I worshiped and danced and prayed aloud, Zeppi sat and quietly prayed. But when 2AM came, and we discussed going on a prayer walk, Zeppi became enthusiastic. He loves Malta almost as much as he loves Jesus. He took us pretty much on the same route that I had gone the first night. But it was as much a guided tour as it was a prayer walk. Zeppi showed us the pixkerija, which is pronounced a lot like the word pescheria, so when Mi Kyong said, “What?” I told her it was the fish market. Zeppi smiled, saying, “Yes, fish market!” We looked into the fish market, but although there were fishermen, they were too busy or too uninterested to engage us in conversation beyond a simple hello.

My comment about the language similarity with Italian led Mi Kyong to comment that the Maltese words for hello and milk sound very much like Arabic. Zeppi was almost leaping for joy, “Yes! Yes! Like Arabic!” I was very surprised that Arabic had gotten a strong enough foothold on Malta to influence the language this way. There is a multimedia show called The Malta Experience that I should probably go see while I’m here. I have been told that of all the museums and historical/cultural shows, this is the best one.

We walked past a sign that said bocci club. I stopped and commented that they play bocce (Italian spelling, pronounced BAH-chee) in Italy, and many Italian Americans play bocce. I wondered aloud if bocce was Italian (as I had thought) or Maltese. Zeppi said, “Maltese! Maltese!” I asked him if he plays bocce, but he said no. It doesn’t surprise me because bocce is a very social game, involving gambling and probably drinking. Most men who play it are very gregarious—just the opposite of Zeppi.

We prayed, walking through the center of Parliament Square, claiming it for the dance team. This was the second time that I had done this, so I believe that if they want to do it, the dancers could dance in the square next time.

Then we walked back to the Prayer Center. It was 4AM, and the rest of the night dragged on endlessly. Mi Kyong curled up on a pillow, while Zeppi went to the kitchen to heat up another plate of pasta. I put on some worship music, grabbed a set of little ceramic drums, and tried to keep time, but the beat kept slipping away. At one point I dozed off and the drumstick slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor. I jumped awake, thinking that I had dropped and broken the drums, but my left hand still held them tightly—which is surely a miracle. I carefully set the drums on the floor and got up to pace instead. But I was so physically wiped out that I considered grabbing a pillow and following Mi Kyong’s example. I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea, but cut it with cold water because even with the cooler night temperature, hot tea was not what I wanted. Lukewarm tea failed to revive me, and it was clear that only several hours of sleep would fix what was wrong with me.

So sitting, standing, pacing, sitting again, all the time listening to worship music and trying to pray—this was how I passed the rest of the night. When 6AM came, Mi Kyong and I discussed whether to go catch a bus back to the house. Zeppi assured us that he would stay and keep watch until the morning shift arrived, which would be in about an hour.

I got about 6 hours of much-needed sleep. When I woke up, the dance team was preparing to go to the Prayer Center for dinner, then on to teach a Prophetic Dance class at a local church. I went with them on the ferry again. After dinner, some of the overnighters were left, while others went with us to the church. The class was great, and again included lots of children. It was lots of fun, but I was simply too physically tired to do very much, so I left early and returned to the house.

One of the attendees at the dance class commented on how dance is frowned upon by her church. It made me think of the story of David and Michal, and how she criticized him for dancing with joy because of bringing the ark back to Jerusalem. Honestly, I would rather be a David than a Michal. God is good! I’ll sing it, I’ll dance it, and even drum it in my sleep! God is good!

Break Every Chain

Posted on July 23, 2013 by opendooreurope

After only 3 hours, both Molly and I wanted to get back to the Prayer Center. It wasn’t a lot of sleep, but both of us got 3 very good hours of sleep. I love that we got to be the ones to launch the 24/7 prayer. It was out of my comfort zone, but so worth it! In fact, every time that I have stepped out of my comfort zone in response to God’s call, I have enjoyed it and been blessed.

And speaking of being called out of my comfort zone, God has encouraged me to speak to people here in Malta—strangers! Those who know me might be surprised, but I’m really quite shy, especially when it comes to talking to strangers. My mom is really good at striking up a conversation with a stranger, and seems to be able to do it anytime and anywhere, with grace and freedom. I have not enjoyed such ability or success whenever I have tried. But, since it is God that is calling me out of my comfort zone, I will do it, and will enjoy it and will be blessed.

In obedience, I have started to greet everyone I see on the street (except the ones that are talking on their phones). Most people have responded in a friendly way. In Texas I used to greet everyone on the street, even strangers. But in Milan and in the northeastern US, I have gotten such odd and sometimes hostile reactions that I stopped doing it. I spoke to the man next to me on the bus this morning, but found that his accent and the background noise made it really hard to understand him. Although he didn’t seem to be quite awake, he responded in a friendly way. When we got to the end of the line, he wished me a nice day.

Yesterday we had more prayer requests from the other Transform teams, and had a prayer meeting with local believers. One couple came with their 10 year old son, but soon after worship started, they suddenly left. I don’t know if they were offended by the freedom of our worship or if they had some unrelated issue. It definitely was not our intent to offend anyone. Malta is even more religiously Catholic than Italy—celebrating saint days with colored lights and garlands and fireworks and parades of statues in the streets. The Renewal Movement (Charismatic Catholicism) has begun here, but it is not the majority by any means. Most Catholics here, as in Italy, are nominal, ritualistically religious, or superstitiously religious. True faith is rare here in Malta. But it won’t stay that way.

Another issue for the Maltese is refugee boat people from Africa. Most of the boat people drown before making land, but such is the desperation of these people that they just keep coming. The same current that caused the Apostle Paul’s boat to shipwreck on Malta brings the African boats to these shores instead of to Italy (though many do land in Italy). The European Union has told Malta that they must keep the boat people, so the population of the island has changed dramatically. Many Maltese resent the presence of the Africans, feeling that their island has been invaded, their jobs taken, and their economy drained. The fact is that the European Union financially helps Malta, though I don’t know how much. Refugees are put into detention centers for a year while their backgrounds are checked. As you can imagine, this is not a quick process, working in cooperation with various African governments that do not want to have these people returned to be a drain on their own struggling economies. Then the refugees are released to find work that nobody else wants to do because of low pay or the danger involved.

Molly, who is a black African, discovered firsthand the anger and resentment of the Maltese for the African refugees. She was walking with 2 other girls from our team, and they spoke to people in the park. They asked one older man if they could pray for him. An ugly look came over his face and he pointed his finger at Molly, shouting: “Pray about them!”

The unexpected venom of his anger startled and hurt Molly. But later as she told us about the incident, Molly prayed for the man, forgiving him and releasing him to God’s love. While walking with Molly, I saw another older man who scowled at Molly. I turned to her and said, “Molly, I’m so sorry for the way that man spoke to you!” How terrible to be hated so much just because of the color of your skin! The man had no idea what a sweet person Molly is, or that she had come for the specific purpose of praying for his country.

Jesus is the chain-breaker, and He will break every chain and proclaim freedom to the captives. Yes, Lord! Break every chain! God is good!

Tunisia, Italy, and the Dark Waters

Posted on July 22, 2013 by opendooreurope

Malta sits in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. From this vantage point, we have been appointed to pray for the nations surrounding the Mediterranean. I was drawn to pray for Tunisia, and was surprised to read on the prayer sheet that Tunisia had served as the launching point for taking Islam into Northern Africa.

While praying for Tunisia, specifically among other things that it would serve as a launching point for taking Christ into Northern Africa and beyond, into all the Islamic world. Then as I prayed I looked at the floor map and noticed that Tunisia is shaped like a keyhole. So I prayed for Tunisia to open the door to bring Christ into the Islamic world.

As I prayed more, I noticed also that Tunisia looks like the blade of a knife, cutting between Algeria and Libya. So I prayed that Tunisia would cut, dividing Islamic Northern Africa, breaking the Islamic hold in that region of the world.

Then as I heard the worship music, I began to dance on the floor map of Tunisia. In dancing, I finally felt that familiar shift in the spirit that tells me that my prayers have been heard. And looking at Tunisia again, I noticed that from the southern point of Tunisia (the knife blade); it looks like a big crack running between Algeria and Libya. Yes, a big crack! Hallelujah! Crack the hard nut of Islamic North Africa!

Our host, Dave, shared this morning the vision he had had of a lighthouse on Malta, but instead of a light bulb, there was a flame. And as it shined, it sent sparks that set little fires blazing all around the Mediterranean. I had a similar vision of a lighthouse, setting off sparks as it shined its light. In both cases, we understood the vision to mean revival.

Malta is a strategic place, sitting as it does, in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. Another vision that Dave had was of a great light entering the Mediterranean Sea at the Straits of Gibraltar, and crossing the sea (moving west), via the island stepping stones of Malta and Cyprus; finally arriving in Israel. So again on the floor map we prayed and danced on the stepping stones: Gibraltar to Malta to Cyprus to Israel.

On a personal note, Dave shared a health concern about his newborn daughter. He and Sharon (our hosts) were told that she has a rare disorder in which 2 facial nerves are missing, which makes her unable to nurse, show facial expression, or control her eyes. Dave researched the condition and found that worldwide there are only about 3000 cases, none of which has ever been cured. We prayed for little Bonnie, that God would do a creative miracle, putting the missing nerves in the place where they should be. We also declared that this creative miracle would show the doctors who the Great Physician is, and turn their heart to the only One who can truly heal body, soul, and spirit.

As the night approached, I decided to go outside my comfort zone. I signed up to do the first overnight shift of our 2 weeks of continuous prayer and worship in the MRPC (Mediterranean Regional Prayer Center). I am not a night person, and when my pillow calls, I have a very hard time resisting its siren song. But I had a cup of coffee at 10PM and went for it. Since the last bus back to the house leaves at 10, I was committed at that point.

Three of us stayed all night: Karl, the team leader; Molly, and me. A guitar player and a few local Maltese worshipers stayed for a while to help us get properly launched. We started in joyous worship, singing, dancing, and playing tambourines and bongos. Then we moved to more meditative worship and prayer. The Maltese had mostly gone by midnight, but the guitar player, Herbie, stayed. At 2AM we decided to go prayer walking. We locked up the Prayer Center and headed into the cool, still night. Lights twinkled off the water as we sought an open gate to the park overlooking the harbor. All the gates were locked, so we walked around the park and down to the harbor. On the way we passed a sleepy guard outside the Italian Embassy, and greeting him warmly. Of course, he looked at us as if we were crazy.

At the harbor we found the gate to the passenger ferry open, so we went in to sit on the bench there and pray while looking at the black night water as it played with the full moon’s reflection. The Transform teams from all the other countries had sent us prayer requests, so as Karl read each team’s prayer requests we took turns leading the prayer for them. It made me feel a real partnership with each team as they seek to take the Good News of Jesus into each of their countries in a variety of ways: Bible giveaways, puppetry, dance, street evangelism, etc.

When he came to Italy, Karl gave me the task of leading prayer for my chosen home country. The leader of this Italian team (there are 3 Italian teams in all) is a friend I’ve known and prayed for since practically the beginning of my time as a missionary in 2010. Giuseppe does clowning as a way of sharing Jesus. As I began to pray for him and his team, I could picture Giuseppe’s bright smile and imagine the laughter he brings with both his clown act and his message of real hope.

For those who are not intercessors or who have never tried praying for people in ministry, it can start out feeling like a burden, but soon becomes a pleasure, and a sweet burden. The best part is when you get reports back of how God has answered your prayers on behalf of the person you’re praying for. For me, praying for Giuseppe was the highlight of the night, although those prayers for the country of Tunisia were also pretty amazing.

Then as we finished up the requests for prayer, we decided to move on. Herbie said good night to us there and made his way back to where he had parked his car. We went to the top of a hill overlooking the harbor and watched a pilot boat and tug boat assist a big ferry through the harbor entrance and into port. It was surprising the speed that the big ferry was moving as it entered the harbor. The ferry made big waves that noisily splashed the rocks below us in a rhythm that reminded me of hands clapping. Karl had taught us back in Rome about the power of rhythmic handclapping and drumming as a prayer tool (see Bingo Bango Bongo!). I couldn’t stop smiling.

We continued our prayer walk into the center of Valletta and up to the Parliament Building. As we passed in front of St. John’s cathedral, it chimed the half hour: 3:30AM. The bell was very loud and startled us. At the Parliament Building, I felt the urge to go put my hand on the door as we prayed. I knew that there were probably security cameras trained on the door, but decided to go for it anyway. I was not chased away, but almost as soon as I had returned to the others, a jeep drove up and let out a guard who entered the building through the door that I had just touched. It was probably the night shift taking over. They saw us, but took no particular notice, since we were just sitting on a bench.

As we passed in front of the cathedral again, it chimed the hour: 4AM. Even though Karl warned us that it was coming, the loudness of the bell still startled us because it chimed exactly at the moment that we were passing in front of the bell tower.

When we returned to the Prayer Center Karl put on worship music. He chose wonderful songs, but not very lively. I grabbed a tambourine to keep myself awake, but found that my sleepy hands just couldn’t keep a rhythm. So I switched to the bongos, which felt better for a while. But while thumping them I felt myself slipping off into sleep. Molly later commented about how I had drummed in my sleep. Finally, I settled on an egg-shaker. I stood on the map of Malta, singing and shaking.

Finally it was 6AM, and the buses would be starting soon. Karl dismissed us, telling us that he would wait for the morning team and probably catch a nap upstairs when they arrived to take over.

On the way home, my sleep-deprived brain was terrified of missing our stop, so when I saw an area that looked familiar I ringed and we got off—probably 5 stops too soon. Molly was a very good sport about it. We both knew that the enemy would try to use that mistake to set us against each other, so we remained determined to stay united in love—and really, Molly gets all the credit for that, since it was my mistake.

God is good! Even when we blunder and cause problems for each other, God is always good!

Walking By Faith in Europe

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Take it Personally!

Break Every Chain

Tunisia, Italy, and the Dark Waters