Tag Archives: transportation

Confetti, Silly String, Masks, and Streamers Everywhere!

Posted on by

0

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

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.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

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.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

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!

Blessing We Are Blessed

Posted on by

0

I’ve just had friends, Doug and Jane, come to visit me from Poland on their way to Spain.  I was hoping that during their visit they could help me with information for the next Feast of Tabernacles.  Worship groups from all over Europe come and bring praise in their own languages—and this continues 24 hours a day for the 7 days of the Feast.  Ever since attending Tabernacles two years ago, it has been my desire to bring an Italian worship team.  In my small way, I did bring Italian worship, singing in Italian when I heard a song I know in Italian.  But it’s not the same.

Doug and Jane did more for me than just provide the necessary information.  They are people who understand my calling and desire to encourage missionaries.  They brought gifts, designed to encourage: books, magazine, and newspaper in English, a pretty coaster with the words, “The Lord is faithful,” a pretty shopping bag in a traditional brightly colored Polish design, and tasty wafers for which Kalisz is famous.  Their visit was so encouraging.  I felt very pampered and loved.

They wanted to see the city, but not the traditional tourist spots.  It was such fun to take them to the places that I consider special, and let them see my Milan.  They also wanted to meet my friends.  They met Paula, who worked for me by buying the furnishings to make the apartment livable—not just livable, but very comfortable.  And they met Sally, the mastermind behind GoMissions (http://gomissions.eu/).  Doug and Jane also encouraged Paula and Sally.  It was a wonderful few days of friendship, prayer, networking, and strategizing.  But it was also a fun time, eating delicious food, talking, laughing, and relaxing.

Through Doug and Jane’s visit, I was able to see how my visits to missionaries encourage them.  Even encouragers need encouragement from time to time!  God is good!

A Parade!

Posted on by

0

This morning I awoke at the house of my friends Roxie and Daniel, who live in Biella.  Roxie is called la orsa che abbraccia—the hugging bear.  She has earned this name because she gives big, warm bear hugs that make you feel very welcome and loved.  Outside the window, it seemed unusually bright for six AM.  It had snowed overnight, and as I write this, it is continuing to snow.  Roxie fixed me a fantastic (and fantastically big) breakfast and a sack lunch to take with me on the train.  Then she and Daniel drove me to the train station.

What a difference being in the train station!  At their house we all praised God for the beautiful snow, which is a gift from Heaven to water the earth in winter.  But in the train station I have heard nothing but whining about the snow, the cold, and illnesses.  Of course, illnesses don’t come from cold weather, but from viruses.  Besides, as believers, we should never say, “I’ve got a cold (or the flu or whatever type of illness).”  Pastor Fabio’s sermon yesterday was about how when Jesus said, “It is finished,” and bowed His head, all the curses from original sin were paid for—including sickness.  If we can manage to wrap our heads around the idea that it has already been paid—all of it!—then we can truly begin to live the victorious life of true freedom in Christ.  These are the days of miracles and wonders, if we can only believe it.

On the train to Santhiá, where I am at this moment, it has continued to snow.  Here I have about an hour between trains.  No sooner did I sit down to wait, then I heard music.  It was a band marching down the street toward the city offices across the street from the train station.  On what most people here are lamenting as a dismal and cold winter day, there is a band celebrating something.  I grabbed my camera and took some pictures—the only person to do so.  Again, it seems like the contrast between believers and unbelievers is as plain as black and white, darkness and light.

The Bible tells us that the world will fall into ever darker darkness, but the beautiful thing about that is the contrast between darkness and light.  Therefore, go and be the light of the world that you were created to be.  The people lost in darkness will be attracted to the light of the Son like moths to a flame.  And if there’s no parade, start one!  Our celebration has only just begun! Parade on a snowy day

I Missed the Train, But Made it to the Divine Appointment

Posted on by

4

I have learned that when I pray to make it to a train, plane, or bus on time, but miss it anyway, it is because God has some higher reason.  And yesterday was no exception.  When my train arrived from Pescara, I had to go back to my apartment to pick up copies of my new book, “Laughing in My Dreams,” to take to friends who pray for me in Biella.  I give my books to people on my prayer team because it is their prayers that help me along in my ministry travels.

Of course, I did my best to make it to the train.  I had calculated that although the time would be tight, I should be able to make it.  However, I got to the train station just as the train was departing.  I said, “Thank You, Lord, for whatever reason I missed the train.  Your plans are always better than mine.”

There was another train an hour later.  Since I had waited at the train station for an hour, I was one of the first ones on the train.  All the seats filled up very quickly, and I wondered if one the people near me might be a divine appointment, but two of the people talked the whole time about people they know, and the young man who took the fourth seat immediately opened his computer and started working.  It was the same on the connecting train.  Pastor Fabio was going to pick me up at the station on the original train, but he had a Bible study to lead.  Instead, he sent Gabriel to pick me up at the train station.

I didn’t know Gabriel or Mary very well, just brief encounters over lunch months ago.  Gabriel started telling me about their ministry.  They are starting a shelter/soup kitchen for the street people of Biella.  Immediately I understood that this was my divine appointment for the day: Gabriel was feeling the weight of his ministry, but was discouraged because things didn’t seem to be moving along like he had hoped.  I felt the Holy Spirit rising up in me to encourage him that this is important work.  Honestly, I don’t remember exactly what I said.  That’s the way it usually is when the Holy Spirit speaks through me.  The words don’t go through my human brain, so as I speak, I’m hearing the words for the first time, and often I don’t remember afterwards what it was that I said.

And that’s the way it was yesterday.  I missed the train, but made it to my divine appointment right on time.  Every day is a new adventure if you don’t let the little things like a missed train get you down.

P.S.  After posting this last night, look what was in my inbox this morning: http://www.guideposts.org/faith/bible-resources/turn-disappointment-to-god-appointment?utm_source=Bible-Alive&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=2013-2-11_nl_turn-disappointment-to-god-appointment.  God is good!

A Divine Appointment

Posted on by

1

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.

I Will Make You Know

Posted on by

1

One of my favorite phrases in Italian is ti faccio verdere—literally “I will make you see,” or as we say in English, “I will show you.”  The first time I heard this phrase I didn’t like the implication of the literal translation as forcing someone to see something.  I could almost imagine keeping my eyes squeezed shut so that nobody could make me see something I don’t want to see.  But hearing the kind way this was said to me, I came to love this phrase and its fraternal twin: ti faccio sapere—“I will make you know,” or as we say in English, I will explain to you.

Last night I had the opportunity to reconnect with a friend and have dinner at his house.  Samuele is a well-traveled and sophisticated person who speaks English, but we always communicate in Italian.  As he shares more and more of his interesting life, I understand that some things really are more beautifully communicated in Italian.  It seems that the Italians can make language as delicious as they make food.

After a pleasant evening, Samuele walked me to the subway.  We found that the subway was closed and I had to take a substitute bus to a subway station three stops away.  As the bus passed the first subway station from Samuele’s house, I saw a fire truck.  I knew then that it was a suicide, which was later confirmed by the news.  That station where the man threw himself under a train is called De Angeli—“from the angels.”  But I don’t think he was hoping for angels to take him up to Heaven.  These subway suicides happen every so often in Milan—and more frequently since the financial crisis hit Italy.  And this is the fourth suicide in six months that has been done either by someone I know or by someone physically near me.

The increasing frequency of suicides is evidence of things that are happening in the spiritual realm.  The devil is working overtime to discourage people to the point of suicide.  And that’s easy enough for him to do with people whose faith is in their finances.

But I recently heard a sermon by Joseph Prince.  He said that we are wrong when we think (as we often do) that the devil starts messing up your health or your finances, and then we must pray and ask God to come in and make these things right again.  What he said was, “God is not running behind the devil, but it’s the devil that is running behind God.”  He said that the devil sees God pouring out blessings on your health or finances or work, and steps in to try and stop the blessings.  And what do we do?  We start worrying: Could these headaches be brain tumors? Am I about to lose my job?  And we toss and turn at night, trying to figure out how to go about controlling the damage—even when no real damage has been done.  Then he quoted:

Even if I should choose to boast, I would not be a fool, because I would be speaking the truth. But I refrain, so no one will think more of me than is warranted by what I do or say, or because of these surpassingly great revelations. Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.  Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.  But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

2 Corinthians 12:6-10

He said that many people think that the “thorn in his flesh” is some kind of illness, but Joseph Prince said that other places in the Bible where that term is used, it is always a person—and it appears to be here, too.  But literally it’s a “messenger of Satan,” a fallen angel (angels are mostly messengers).

Here’s the part that blew my mind: he said that just like Paul, our response to these irritations, this petty meddling of the devil should be to thank God for the blessings He is pouring out on us.  Stop whining and start worshiping, praising, thanking God for the blessings.  It’s counter-intuitive (and I love that!), but nothing will make the devil flee faster than praise, worship, and thanksgiving to God.  And then those blessings can really start to flow as God intended.

Joseph Prince explained the flow of blessings from God like a hose from God in Heaven to us here on earth.  The blessings are always flowing, flowing, flowing, but when we worry, for example, about our finances, then we are tying a knot in the hose and the blessings can’t flow.  That’s exactly what the devil wants!

It’s important that we keep our family, friends, and neighbors in our prayers.  But the devil’s interference in this world is not a reason to despair.  In fact, these are times when people need Jesus more than ever.  You might be the only Jesus that some of your co-workers and casual acquaintances may ever know.  Many Christians these days are shy about sharing their faith, afraid of being laughed at, called “politically incorrect” or “intolerant,” or of losing their job.  But what if you had the chance to tell someone about Jesus and give them the hope that can change their whole outlook from suicidal to joyful?  And what if you are the only person that God has given this chance to?  I will “make” you see Jesus!  I will make you know Jesus!

My Troublesome Self

Posted on by

2

Friends, when life gets really difficult, don’t jump to the conclusion that God isn’t on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner.  1 Peter 4:12-13

Greetings from Asheville, North Carolina!

Asheville is up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and Bellavista, Mom’s retirement residence, is built into the side of a hill.  Because of its placement in the hillside, parking is frequently an issue, especially during holidays when family members come to visit.

When I’m in the US, I live here at Bellavista with Mom, which is a very good arrangement for both of us.  There are a lot of nice people at Bellavista.  In fact, the majority of the people here are very nice, indeed, and Mom and I are friends with almost all of them.  But there are also a few cranks.

One in particular is always crabbing at me for this or that.  Yesterday he accosted me in the dining room and told me: “You parked in my parking place!  You’re young and healthy, and you should park at the top of the hill and leave these parking places for the people who don’t get around so well.”

The management has said again and again that there are no assigned parking spaces here, and of course, I hadn’t parked in a handicapped space.  I often drive Mom’s car, but I never park in a handicapped space if she is not in the car with me.  Plus this man walks without assistance, not even a cane, so mobility is not the real issue for him.  But rather than point that out to him, I just said, “Sorry, I didn’t know that it was your space.”

This man’s crankiness is famous throughout Bellavista.  Mom and another friend sat at a table by the fireplace in the dining room once, and he told her: “We always sit here.”  Knowing that there are no assigned tables, Mom smiled and said, “Well, have a seat!”  That, of course, made him furious and he went to sit at another table

When I told her about the parking thing, Mom went and asked the director for clarification.  The director confirmed that there are no assigned parking spaces, but that priority goes to residents—of which I am one.  Mom turned to me and said: “We’re not moving the car!”  So the car stayed where it was, close to the front door, overnight.

When I woke up this morning, my spirit spoke to me about what Jesus would do in this situation.  I knew:  Jesus would have parked at the top of the hill to begin with, being always considerate of others.  But I don’t want it to look like I’m catering to his bossy demands.  I knew that I should immediately move the car, but I didn’t want him to get that parking spot, hoping that someone else would get it, instead.

As I struggled with myself, I realized that the problem isn’t the cranky old man.  The problem is me.  Two years ago when I was back in Milan after a three year absence, I quickly became reacquainted with how rude people in the big city can be.  In particular, it seemed like more and more people were pushing to get onto buses and subway cars, without first letting passengers get off.  So I started gently pushing people out of my way when they tried to get on while I was getting off, grumbling to myself all the while.  Then the Holy Spirit told me: “It’s not your job to teach people manners.  You need to be an Ambassador of Christ, even in these situations.”

Remembering that lesson from Milan, I realized that it’s also not my job to teach manners to this man, but to be an Ambassador of Christ.  And what that means is to die to self.  The trouble with self is that I’ve lived with myself for such a long time.  I like myself.  I like getting my own way.  But getting my own way is often in direct conflict with obedience.

Obedience requires that I die to myself, pick up my cross daily and follow Jesus Christ.  I’ve been a Christian for 45 years, and I still struggle with selfish desires.  After all these years, I know that self dies hard.  Self dies one of those opera deaths—you know, the kind that keeps singing for another ten minutes, flopping and flailing about on the stage.  And just when you think it’s really dead, it comes back for an encore and another ten minute song.

 

Indy Go!

Posted on by

1

Greetings from Indianapolis!  I am here at the International Conference on Missions (ICOM http://www.theicom.org/conference) with Sally, the brains behind GoMissions, European Faith Missions’ new partner in ministry.  Sally and I are here exhibiting for GoMissions (http://www.gomissions.eu/), an online bulletin board for matching missionaries with mission opportunities in Europe.

Indianapolis is the cleanest, most graffiti-free city I think I’ve ever seen.  And when I commented on that to local people, the answer has come back:  police presence.  I believe it because every time I’ve gone out the door of the hotel, there has been a police car, either parked nearby or passing by on the street.  Every morning at breakfast, there is a group of 5 or 6 police officers who take a break here.

One officer told me that the campaign against graffiti started about 5 years ago, and that it has been an important weapon in the suppression of inner city gangs.  I guess I had never thought of it before.  My only experience of gangs is limited to the musical “West Side Story.”  And I remember that in the first scenes, in fact it’s in the opening credits, the Sharks and Jets dance around marking their turf with graffiti.  Anyway, the result is that Indianapolis is both very clean and feels safe.

Meanwhile, back at the conference, the need for missionaries in Europe is still obviously very much misunderstood here in the US.  When I point out that even people with running water and modern conveniences need a Savior, almost invariably the person responds that America is also a mission field.  I don’t deny the truth of that, but the people who say it tend to be people who are not actively sharing the Gospel here, either.  Interestingly, the people who best understand the need for missionaries in Europe are missionaries serving in other parts of the world.  They know that Europe is the least Christian continent on Earth.

I wouldn’t say that we should stop sending missionaries to Africa because there is still a need there, but Africa is way more Christian than Europe.  In fact, now there is an organization of African missionaries to Europe:  GATE, Gift from Africa to Europe (http://gate-mission.org/GATE%20Flyer.pdf).

And many people who say that they feel called to missions say in the very next breath: “But I could never live without running water.”  Well, Europe is more likely where they are called because those called to live in deserts love the deserts and desert people; those called to live in the jungle love the jungle and the jungle people; and those of us called to live in Europe love Europe and the European people.

Mission does not automatically equal suffering.  The suffering and troubles that Jesus warned about was persecutions.  Anywhere you meet the enemy and people influenced by the enemy, you’ll encounter resistance, trouble, and sometimes persecution.  Missionaries suffer hardship wherever they are.  I have had to learn to sleep sitting straight up on buses, trains, and planes, often missing meals—that’s hardship.  Giving up my house, and leaving my family—especially my grandson—is hardship.  But I know that I will be compensated:

Then Peter spoke up, “We have left everything to follow you!”

“Truly I tell you,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields [and grandchildren]—along with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life,” (Mark 10:28-30, emphasis mine).

Please, friends, help me get the word out:  Europe is a mission field full of people who need Jesus.

My Plans Plus Hurricane Sandy Equals God’s Plan

Posted on by

2

Last year when I prayed about and booked travel to the US, God changed and enlarged the scope and purpose of my plans, using the Bastrop Wildfires (http://www.nbcdfw.com/weather/stories/17-Missing-in-Bastrop-Fires-1554-Homes-Destroyed-129616998.html).  He had told me to return to the US for five months, so I thought I would be using that time to fix up and sell my house.  Instead, my house became available just when my brother and his family needed a place to live.  Their house had burned down in the wildfire.  That left me without my plans for those five months.  In thinking about it before flying home, I said, “Lord, what am I going to do for five months without a house?” not really asking Him, just musing, but He answered immediately, saying: “Promote missions in Europe!”  And I saw that it was a fantastic idea.  So I attended conferences and spoke at churches and to church groups about Europe as a mission field.

It was a very fruitful trip, and my brother and sister-in-law helped me fix up the house to sell, so everything worked out even better than I could have hoped for, certainly better than my original plan.

This year God has changed my plans using Hurricane Sandy.  Waaay back in May I prayed about and booked travel back to the US for three months.  My travel date was October 31.  I had less than a week between returning from the Tallinn, Berlin, Moscow trip to get ready.  That left little time for seeing friends before flying back to the US.

One friend in particular that I had wanted to see before going was Francesca, an Italian missionary to Cambodia.  But I returned to Milan only to find out that she was in the hospital, surely dying.  When I went to the hospital the doctors told me that she had already died.  I visited her in the hospital morgue, which I wrote about in my post “Goodbye Dear Friend” (http://europeanfaithmissions.com/2012/10/30/goodbye-dear-friend/).  The celebration of Francesca’s life (what others call funeral) was scheduled for October 31, my departure date.  I felt bad about missing it because I hadn’t gotten to see any of her family at the hospital.  When I learned that my flights were cancelled because of the hurricane, I was grateful to be able to attend after all.  Her son remembered me, and it was good to be able to tell him how much I had loved his mother.

Another friend I had wanted to see was Giulio, whom I had met in London two years ago.  We had set a dinner appointment for my return from Moscow, but illness had incapacitated him, so we had to cancel.  With the change of plans, I was able to have dinner with Giulio (fully recovered) last night.

Finally, there was Enza, a dear friend for many years.  I had felt bad that I hadn’t had time to pay her a visit, even though she only lives a block away.  This morning I visited with her, and we made plans for a visit to her house in the country in February when I return.

I know that a lot of peoples’ travel plans were disrupted by the Hurricane Sandy.  How we react to a change of plans reveals a lot about ourselves, especially our flexibility and our trust in God.  At first I was not pleased about the change of plans, but not because of delayed travel.  I was unhappy at having the United Airlines website telling me that all my flights were on schedule, and then after schlepping my bags all the way out to the airport to find that they were all cancelled.  Of course they knew and could have updated their website accordingly.  United Airlines handled all this very badly in my opinion, and cost me over 3 hours travel time to the airport, and €16 for the bus ride.  But I’ve learned that the quicker that I can remind myself of God’s goodness, and the fact that He is in control, the happier I will be.  So while on hold with United, I did an attitude adjustment.  And that’s when I saw the opportunity in the delay.  If I had allowed myself to remain annoyed with United (and justifiably so!), I might have failed to see the opportunity to see these three dear friends.

Having visited my friends, I feel ready to leave Milan for three months.  And as I prepare for my travels tomorrow, I realize that relationships are important to God.  God is a relational God who delights in loving relationships: our relationships with one another and even more, our relationship with Him.  God is good.

From Russia with Love

Posted on by

1

Greetings from Berlin!  I just got back from Moscow, which is an amazing city.  It was everything I had heard, and nothing I could ever have imagined.  Our hosts were very kind and welcoming, grateful to have people coming to pray for their city and country.  They love and hate Moscow, tending to see themselves through a very ugly and distorted mirror, no doubt a legacy of Communist rule there.  I think this is probably why it was important for us, as outsiders from across Europe (and the US!) to come pray for and with them.

The pace of life in Moscow is astonishingly fast.  New York City is slow by comparison!  Moscow is the 5th largest city in the world, with a population of more than 11.8 million—far ahead of New York, at number 19.  And it covers 969.5 square miles.  The Moscow Metro has 12 lines and 172 stations, serving more than 7 million passengers a day.  The metro trains travel at breakneck speed, and the distance between stations outside the city center is easily double that of the metro stations in New York or Milan.  The Muscovites walk much faster than any group of people I have ever encountered.  Normally I have no trouble keeping up, and often have to moderate my speed to match that of my companions, but not in Moscow.  This led to difficulties in the crush of people in the metro stations, where often people stepped between me and my guide.  He finally grabbed my bag, apparently believing it to blame for my inability to keep up.  Later he commented on how little I had brought with me.

Our first day there, October 22, was warm at 15 degrees Celsius (59 Fahrenheit).  The next day it dropped to 0 (32 F).  And there were snow flurries in the air throughout the day, but nothing on the ground.  Happily, I had come prepared for cold weather.

My hosts, Pasha and Lena, live on the outskirts of the city in a high-rise.  Near their building is a very modern looking glass building with many windows broken out.  Pasha told me that it had been built in 1990 as an office complex, but it was not built to code, and so it was never opened.  Perhaps the builders had hoped to bribe somebody into signing off on it, and lacked an amount sufficient to buy off the official.  That’s all my own speculation, however.  So the building has sat for over 20 years as a hulking eyesore to the neighborhood.  Despite the protective fencing, gangs of teens have entered and climbed up in it, using it as a place to party.  It staggers the imagination to think of the dangers that must exist inside:  open elevator shafts and crumbling stairs without banisters, for example.  And if you add alcohol and drugs you can get a very deadly combination indeed.  Pasha says that they have never demolished it because of lack of funds to do so, even though it sits on prime real estate near a metro station in a nice part of town.  It is all sadly typical of Eastern Europe.

And yet, all this contrasted with the grandeur of Red Square and the many beautiful cathedrals in the city.  Clearly Russians have an eye for beauty, be in architecture, such as St. Basil’s Cathedral and the many lavishly ornamented metro stations, or in arts like the nesting dolls or Faberge eggs, or in performing arts like the Bolshoi Ballet.  It is as if the Communists tried to tell the Russian people that they don’t need beauty.  Perhaps that a factor in the fall of Communism:  you can’t take beauty away from the people.

I love you, Russia!  I hope to return someday!  But in the meanwhile, never forget that God is good, and that He loves you!