My name is Jeff and I'm a pastor of a small, local, Christian fellowship

It's a wonderful thing to love your work; to know that when you do it you are doing something that you were born to do. I am so fortunate to be both. I don't say I am the best at what I do. God knows that are so many others who do it better. But I do feel fairly lucky to be called by such a good God to do work I can only do with his help, to be loved by a beautiful woman, and to have a workshop where I can work my craft. These musings of mine are part of that work.
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Saturday, April 23, 2011

Awakening the Tookish Side in Me

I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it’s very difficult to find anyone.”

I should think so in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them,” said our Mr. Baggins, and stuck one thumb behind his braces, and blew out another even bigger smoke-ring. Then he took out his morning letters, and begin to read, pretending to take no more notice of the old man.”  
Gandalf and Bilbo in “An Unexpected Party”, Chapter 1 of The Hobbit

This past week I had an interesting series of conversations in a 24-hour period with a common theme – faith and how God leads us. Two occurred within an hour of each other and the third happened the very next morning. All of them provoked the same reaction within me: hunger, desire (or maybe jealousy?)

Last weekend, through a serendipitous series of events, we were blessed with the presence of a pastor from Uganda who stayed with us for a few days. We met Pastor John in 2008 through a friend of mine who pastors in the Cities and Brother Lutayaa had stayed with us for a weekend at that time and had preached at Refuge. Ostensibly, he had called me from Chicago last Monday simply asking if I had connections there as he was in-country and looking for a place to stay until our network's annual convention at the end of the month. But given the fact we were a few days from a mission event focused on northeast Africa, I invited him to come and share with us. He accepted my invitation immediately. On Monday morning, as I was taking him to the bus depot in Eau Claire for his return trip to Chicago he shared with me that after purchasing his airline ticket in Uganda he had traveled to America with the equivalent of a mere $120 in his pocket, the sum of which he spent on lodging during his first two days upon arrival (it had to be a dive if he stayed anywhere in Chicago on only that amount). In his thick Lugandan accent he said to me as I drove, “I know it sounds crazy, but when you walk with God you must trust him to provide” (or words to that extent).

The Greyhound stops at the McDonald's on North Crossing and while we were waiting for the bus to arrive, an elderly gentleman came up to us and just launched into conversation. He began by sharing that he felt colder than usual on account he had just returned from an extended stay in Asia (as I recall, he rattled off an itinerary that included Thailand, Laos, Viet Nam and the Philippines). When I asked what he did over there I confess I was preparing for him to say something elicit. To my relief he informed me that he had been on a missions trip of sorts. When I asked him what was the nature of his mission (i.e., did he build something or was he working with a ministry there?) he replied: “pack mule.” In response to the quizzical expression on my face he clarified, “I carried medical supplies to people who live in remote areas.” If you're wondering how Larry (his name) got into this line of work, I was, too. He then proceeded to tell me that he was walking down the street one day in the Philippines and some Christians approached him and invited him to join them on this adventure and he had agreed. “Just like that?” I asked him. “Just like that” was his reply and then he began sharing anecdote after anecdote of God's provision and leadership while on his mission that had lasted a couple of months.

Twenty four hours later I was sitting at the table in Bob's Grill at the usual gathering of the Breakfast Club. Along with the usual suspects, we had two friends of David's who joined us, a father-son duo from South Africa. Lynn (the father) was overflowing with stories of God's supernatural leading and provision as they have hitchhiked all over the world. Once a very wealthy man, his riches nearly devoured him. After his wife left him, he was extremely discouraged when the Lord spoke to him through the story of the rich young man (Mark 10) asking him to do the same:
Jesus looked at him and loved him. "One thing you lack," he said. "Go, sell everything
you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow
me." (v. 21)
He did and his life has not quite been the same since. As he shared his story with us (with his son, John-o – a 20-somethingish young man just as excited about life as his dad), the joy he expressed was palpable.

Later that morning while journaling and attempting to discern the significance of these three conversations on the heels of our recent mission event, I thought of something else Lynn had said. “These stories are fun to share now but while you are in them there are times when you're really stressing.” I think of my Ugandan pastor-friend who had a place to stay in Chicago until yesterday. Where he will lay his head next is anybody's guess. But for all that, I find myself wanting the same thing – a sense of His leading in my life that has the touch of the now-ness of God. It's like Bilbo listening to the dwarves' sing in his front room and something stirs within him:

As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by
cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and jealous love, the desire
of the hearts of dwarves. Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished
to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and
explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick. He looked out of
the window. The stars were out in a dark sky above the trees. He thought of the jewels
of the dwarves shining in dark caverns. (“An Unexpected Party”)

This desire has been awakened before in me but usually it's not the sudden thought of plundering dragons that douses it. No, it's the routine of life (the very one I find myself longing for – see my last blog) that rouses me from my reverie of the thought of “faith adventures” only to find myself “plain Mr. Baggins of Bag-End, Under-Hill, again.”

The last thing Lynn shared with all of us before we began to pray was “Perhaps sometime the Lord will allow us to return your way and share more of his leading in our life. But even if that doesn't happen ask God for your own stories.” And maybe that's why these three messengers have been brought into my life – to awaken the Tookish part in me (again) that I might ask for this very thing before second breakfasts and blowing smoke-rings distract me once again. Truth be told I want Gandalf to bang on my door and pronounce as he once did to Bilbo:

“I will give you what you asked for.”

“I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!”

“Yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it you. In fact I will go so far as to
send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you and profitable
too, very likely, if you ever get over it. “
The road goes ever on and on



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