Tag Archives: Malta

A Travel Promise from Father God

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Yesterday and today could have been very difficult travel days, indeed.  I had bought my round-trip tickets to Malta separately from my round-trip tickets to Rome.  I had planned a 4 hour layover to claim my bag and check in to my other flight.  If anything went wrong with my Malta flight, it could have cost me the flight back to Milan.  (Remember my post from April titled Six Hours Late?)

Likewise, the potential for problems loomed for today’s travel.  I will be meeting Nina at the airport after she drops off her son’s fiancée at another airport.  If there is a traffic snarl or something goes wrong, and Nina doesn’t get there in time, what do I do?  Go ahead and check in?  Give up my ticket and wait?  And Buck will be meeting us at the airport in Sofia, and driving us to The Promised Land Complex, about 2 ½ hours away.

Such travel plans fraught with possibilities for problems used to keep me awake at night.  But this time I prayed about it, and decided to leave it all in God’s hands whatever happens.  I slept very well both nights, and yesterday morning before traveling, God told me very clearly that His message to me for the day’s travel is Psalm 81:6, “I removed the burden from their shoulders; their hands were set free from the basket.”  God is promising to carry my luggage for me because I’ve let go of my baggage.  By that I mean that since I decided to just trust Him, He is promising to take care of me the whole way.

Your might be wondering what is today’s travel promise from God.  Proverbs 3:6, “In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.”

And He has!  God is good!  Whatever comes, God is good!

Leaving Malta

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Greetings from Rome (my layover before returning home to Milan)!

Although I am always ready for the next adventure, I have to say that leaving Malta is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a long time.  Whenever I leave my family, I know that I’ll see them again before the year is out.  But in Malta I was very aware of how close we had grown as a team.  And although I will definitely come back to Malta, it will never be the same because the team won’t be there.  We had come from all over the globe: Asia, Africa, North America, Australia, and of course, Europe.  South America and Antarctica were the only continents not represented.  Among the crew were newbies on their very first mission trip and seasoned missionaries who had raised children on the mission field.

The local believers were very hospitable, just as they had been described in the book of Acts.  Malta is incredibly beautiful, but it’s the beauty of the Lord and His presence that really took my breath away.  God is good!  And Malta can be seen as proof of His goodness!

Dancing in the Piazza!

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We have been rehearsing the last few days to do a flash mob in the Parliament Square.  This was my 3rd flash mob.  The first was in Milan’s ritzy department store, La Rinascinte, singing Amazing Grace on Christmas Eve to shoppers there.

My 2nd was a flash mob of values on the steps of the Duomo Cathedral of Milan, in which at a signal we held signs naming various moral values.  Mine said coraggio (courage).  The press had been invited to that one!

This time we were all over the big central piazza and after an introduction we ran to the middle of the piazza and danced to Resurrection (link there—I’m in the back on the right, all in gray).  You can see a guy in green at the front who briefly dances with us.  We had good audience participation.  The wind was something I, personally, had prayed for because without wind, it would have been blistering hot—so thank You, Lord, for the wind to keep us cool!

Afterwards the dance team and others went to the main street, set up there, and danced some more.  It was a moment when I would like to have been able to be in 2 places at once.  But I stayed in the piazza with the evangelization team.  We hadn’t seen them very much at all since Rome, so I wanted to spend some time with them.  But that desire was really just a set up for a divine appointment.  In Rome Guy, the host and head of the evangelization team, had told us about prayer walking in Parliament Square at 3AM.  He had gone up to the door and knocked on it.  The guard who answered had tears in his eyes, and Guy asked if he could pray for him.  The guard had just a month earlier lost his daughter in a car accident and had been in that moment struggling to cope.  Guy prayed for him and shared the Good News of Jesus Christ with the guard.  The guard has remained Guy’s friend.

After the dancers left, Guy went to the same door and knocked.  He asked the guard inside to please tell Paul hello for him.  The guard said, “If you wait 10 minutes, Paul will be here, and you can tell him yourself.”  So we all got to meet Paul, and he invited us into the courtyard of the Parliament Building.  Paul told us that we can’t go inside, though.  Then after a few minutes, he took us into another courtyard that was even prettier.  Again he told us that we couldn’t go inside.  I got a chance there in the second courtyard to talk with Paul.  He is a very nice man, and his affection for Guy was obvious.

Then after telling us twice that we couldn’t go inside, Paul took us inside, where we saw lots of suits of armor and paintings of leaders going back to the 1500’s.  Before exiting, we all prayed for Paul.  He thanked us, wiping tears from his eyes.  It was a sweet and touching visit, and probably prophetic for whenever Operation Capitals of Europe comes to Malta—that we will be gratefully welcomed.

Then Guy treated us all to ice cream, and we said our good-byes (some of them are leaving today, and I’m leaving tomorrow).  God is good!

God is Good!

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I know I usually end my posts with that remark: God is good!  He is!  God is infinitely good!  Today in contemplating the attributes of God, and particularly His goodness, I got a vision.  I’m not sure that I can adequately describe what I saw.  It was like multi-dimensional puzzle making up a true picture of God.  One piece was Goodness and this goodness was infinite and infused all the other pieces.

Another piece was Justice and God’s justice was infinite and infused all His other attributes.  God is patient, and God’s patience is infinite and infused all His other attributes, and is infinitely infused with His goodness and His justice.

And so forth.  God’s goodness is a goodness so complete and huge and so completely infuses all His other attributes that it can never be separated from anything He says or does.  God is infinitely and perfectly good!  This is my thought for today from the Prayer Center in Malta.  God is good!

Take it Personally!

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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

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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 3rd 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!

Dancing in the Park

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I had no sooner posted that last piece when Miki, leader of the dance team, came to me.  She said that as she was showering she was thanking God for sending an intercessor (me!) to pray for the team.  And God told her, “No, she’s a dancer.”

My jaw just fell open.  It seems that He’s calling me back to dance.  He’s got to do quite a bit of physical restoration to do that, but He is God of Restoration.  We walked to the ferry dock with my head swimming at the thought.

I generally don’t like boats very much, but the ferry crossing was really nice.  The water is the cleanest harbor water I have ever seen—or smelled!  It’s a pretty deep teal color, and there is no oily scum or floating trash that I’ve always associated with harbor water.  Here’s how clean the water is in Valletta harbor: I would actually swim in it!  I haven’t, but I would.

On the other side we took the elevator to the park high over the harbor.  Up there we found Herbie, the guitarist.  He grinned at us, “I had a good morning!  I did some busking, made some money.”  He had his guitar and a battery-powered amp with him.  He was clearly on a high from his successful morning.

I watched the team’s backpacks and prayed while they went to pray and Herbie went to look for a plug to recharge his amp.  Herbie came back at 2, the appointed start time.  He was grinning again.  He had found a plug in the Indian Embassy waiting room.  Inexplicably, they had not chased him off.  Well, not inexplicable, really because I had been praying for him to find a place to plug in.

Herbie warmed up the crowd with a Christian song, done in his own smooth jazz style.  People grabbed their phones, cameras, and tablets and started filming or taking pictures.  Then the dancers did a hip-hop number that looked like a lot of fun.  Herbie played a song or 2 in between each dance set.  Then a bunch of about 10 junior high school kids came along.  One boy started in mocking the dancers and tried to get the others to mock, too.  A couple of other boys did, but half-heartedly.  A couple of girls started dancing a little where they were, and after a while Miki invited them to join in the dance, and they did.  They were clearly having a lot of fun, and a friend filmed them with her tablet.  They stepped back into the group when the song was over, but stayed to listen to Herbie sing and play.  They joined into the next dance even more enthusiastically.

Meanwhile, people came by and put coins in Herbie’s open bag.  I saw one man come by and carefully put in about €5 worth of coins.  Later another man put a €10 bill in Herbie’s bag.  Herbie had a good day!

Then the dancers did a dance with streamers and the mocking boy made a grab for Miki’s streamer.  She gave it to him, and he danced with it, and with some degree of grace and style.  Then the kids announced that they had to go.  The 2 girls that had danced hugged each of the dancers and said good-bye, waving to the rest of us.  It was a really sweet moment.

Because of my duties in watching the backpacks and helping set up the music, I wasn’t able to get around to talk to very many people.  But I did get to talk briefly with one lady who was visiting from Australia.

It was a fun afternoon.  And I got another message from God about dancing, this time from Carrie, a Maltese believer who had come to support the dance team.  Carrie said to me: “You should get out there and dance with them.”  I said, “What on earth made you say that?”  She said, “I don’t know!”

Well, I do know: it was God!  I guess He’ll show me how He wants me to proceed.  God is good!

Dancing on the Roof

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Here in Dave and Sharon’s beautiful villa the roof is open and flat, so in the morning while it is still cool, the dancers practice on the roof.  Tonight I will do another overnight shift, so this morning I decided to spend some time with the dancer team.

Most people don’t know this about me, but most of my childhood was spent in ballet class.  I also took modern dance, tap, and jazz.  Dance is something I dearly loved, but gave up to become a housewife and mother.  There was a time when I believed that Heaven would be an endless dance of love.  I have recently come around to believe again that Heaven will be an endless dance of love.  But I had felt shy among the dancers because all that was almost 40 years, 2 pregnancies, and 75 pounds ago.  That means that my center of gravity has dramatically changed and my muscle memory cannot be trusted.  What had been easy for me all those years ago has become quite difficult indeed, and I don’t balance as easily as I once did.

My shyness with the dancers also had to do with a bad experience a few years ago.  I had taken a class called Dance as Prayer.  It turned out that it was misnamed.  The teacher had actually wanted Dance as Show dancers.  I had gone, hoping to learn to pray in a new way.  The teacher criticized my dancing so harshly that I simply quit going.  I figured that I don’t need to spend €20 a week to be told what a bad dancer I am.  I do forgive her, and understand that I didn’t fit into her profile of dancers because of being too old, too fat, and too awkward.  Still, it stung very badly.

So I have made my interactions with the dance team very tentative and cautious.  I admit, I don’t want to be rejected again.  But instead of rejection, they have been very welcoming.  They seem genuinely glad to have me here on the roof to watch them practice and to pray for and with them.  I haven’t shared any of my history with them, and I’m sure that they would never guess at it.  But those fears of rejection turned out to be unwarranted.  Perhaps I’ll tell them when the moment is right.

I know that God has set all this up to bring healing to my heart through dance.  God is good!

Hooray for Jessie!

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I want to take a moment to highlight a member of our Malta team.  She is a feisty little Indonesian named Jessie.  She has a sunny nature and a servant’s heart.  Jessie volunteered to do the cooking for the Evangelistic Team, who aren’t staying in the same place as us.

But today they entered the Prayer Center at noon, and Jessie was carrying a big plastic container.  She had made us lunch.  There are snacks here, and all the makings for sandwiches, but this was a very nice treat.  She had made a kind of quesadilla, spiced with paprika.  It was delicious!

Then as we ate, Jessie sat at the keyboards and began to play my favorite worship music.  When she finished playing, I thanked Jessie for feeding our bodies and then our spirits.  Her face lit up with a shy smile.

Thank You, Lord, for Jessie!  She’s more proof of how God is good!

Break Every Chain

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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!