The other day (Friday, if you must know; I doubt you did, but there you go), we were having a little church service here in the team house, discussing who had been our spiritual mentors throughout our lives, and whether or not they knew who they were. All of a sudden, I was hit by the most peculiar and inconvenient feelings I had felt in a good, long while. I think I started missing people (Intersect, this means you; especially Kaben). And that got me to thinking that maybe, just maybe, I was in fact being changed through the Holy Spirit. You see, as I mentioned, it has been a long time since I've felt a feeling of longing toward someone I hadn't seen in a while. Over my years of life, I think I've become quite cold, emotionally, and at some time stopped regretting leaving people behind, or being left behind as others moved on. I have tended to accept the realities of life: that people move away and relationships are transitional. It, therefore, wasn't particularly hard when college friends, for instance, moved away from Stockton.
Eventually, I was able to reconcile the realization of my numbness with my belief that there is no "goodbye"-- only "see you later," accepting the possibility that "later" may be the joyous reunion of saints and savior. I considered this impartiality to the flow of life to be a strength, a gift from God to help me serve Him wholly. But the wild new possibility of missing people presents a minor dilemma: as long as I am called away from those I love, I will always serve in bittersweet discontent. Not a discontent in my present condition--I think God truly has given me a gift for being content in most (probably not yet all) circumstances--but an unrest as I reminisce about the old friends and thirst ever more for the eternally consistent love of the Father. In case you were thinking I might consider my newfound heart a detriment in my prospective life of ministry, I consider the contrary to be the more plausible truth. If I am being taught to love in truth, then I am glad for the path I walk with my Lord as my guide, even if--especially if--pain will accompany it.
One reason I was excited to come to this part of the world was so that I might be considered "worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name" (Acts 5:41) of Christ. I was excited about the possibility of enduring physical pain and spiritual hardship in this land, think it would somehow prove to myself that I am a friend of the Almighty God. Three weeks in, I've felt nothing of what I expected, even for which I hoped. This is the first indication that there might be some other kind of suffering in store for this servant's decaying body, and I will rejoice in it as Christ tends my wounds and holds me closely. I'm beginning to realize that this life is going to hurt tremendously more than I can endure. I'm glad I'm not alone, and I'm looking forward to it.
To everyone I've ever loved: if I don't yet miss you, I believe I soon will. Already, I am sorry that I haven't.
To everyone to whom I never adequately expressed my love (i.e. to everyone): I am sorry. I've got someone working on it. He's really good.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Arm Me!
I've got some exciting news and would like to excite you with it.
Our project team left about a week ago and Scott, Laura, and I have basically been bumming around the country, checking out some new provinces and meeting with old friends (theirs, not mine). It turns out, people in the Army tend to know how to get things done, and are backed by means to make any NGO with which I might interact salivate or even start gnawing on their own fingernails.
Scott and three big wigs from the ministry went to an army base near our project site, proceeded by a letter of introduction from one of Scott's buddies to some leader in the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRC; French?), someone with access to the means I was just talking about. Armed with the designs created by our team during our two days between site visit and presentation, a slide show Scott and I cobbled together, and a whole lot of charisma, these guys apparently really impressed the commander. So much so that our blessed United States will probably be contributing an enormous percentage of the total funds required not just for construction, but maybe even the programs. This is a major win for the ministry, as fundraising had not begun yet, but more importantly it's a clear victory for the Kingdom. God has plainly been working all over this land, paving the way for His servants. The PRC informed my comrades that they had been looking to do something similar in concept to our Community Center in the exact area we have acquired land and blessing from the local village.
Although I believe God has more in store for us here, we are blessed with a bountiful harvest of fruit planted long ago, and at least one of His purposes for our extended stay has been revealed. Scott, because of his military friendships, has endowed the ministry with invaluable contacts. I have had the joy of seeing the work I've been doing on committing the designs to computer contribute to a major step in project implementation. Additionally, Laura, who had only a vague sense of what she would be doing here, has been edifying the ministry with her knowledge of and skills in member care and counseling.
It is truly splendid to live in God's calling both in action and in location.
Our project team left about a week ago and Scott, Laura, and I have basically been bumming around the country, checking out some new provinces and meeting with old friends (theirs, not mine). It turns out, people in the Army tend to know how to get things done, and are backed by means to make any NGO with which I might interact salivate or even start gnawing on their own fingernails.
Scott and three big wigs from the ministry went to an army base near our project site, proceeded by a letter of introduction from one of Scott's buddies to some leader in the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRC; French?), someone with access to the means I was just talking about. Armed with the designs created by our team during our two days between site visit and presentation, a slide show Scott and I cobbled together, and a whole lot of charisma, these guys apparently really impressed the commander. So much so that our blessed United States will probably be contributing an enormous percentage of the total funds required not just for construction, but maybe even the programs. This is a major win for the ministry, as fundraising had not begun yet, but more importantly it's a clear victory for the Kingdom. God has plainly been working all over this land, paving the way for His servants. The PRC informed my comrades that they had been looking to do something similar in concept to our Community Center in the exact area we have acquired land and blessing from the local village.
Although I believe God has more in store for us here, we are blessed with a bountiful harvest of fruit planted long ago, and at least one of His purposes for our extended stay has been revealed. Scott, because of his military friendships, has endowed the ministry with invaluable contacts. I have had the joy of seeing the work I've been doing on committing the designs to computer contribute to a major step in project implementation. Additionally, Laura, who had only a vague sense of what she would be doing here, has been edifying the ministry with her knowledge of and skills in member care and counseling.
It is truly splendid to live in God's calling both in action and in location.
Friday, February 27, 2009
AfghSE
This is my first post from the Stans ever. In honor of this remarkable occasion, I'd like to make some remarks about the experiences of the EMI Team to Afghanistan as I saw them. If you'd like, go ahead and call it a special edition.
Well, we flew here from the COS, to Houston, to Newark, to Delhi, and finally to Kabul. This trip was not as gruelling as I might have expected it to. I was able to sleep quite cosily for well over half of the trans-Atlantic flight and didn't seem to have any struggle slipping into this time-zone. The timezone here, by the way, is UTC+4:30. Whoever came up with half time-zones ought to be dealt with harshly. I hope he loses a low-stakes poker match or something. Anyway, I didn't notice any jetlag and enjoyed the first few days here very much. Apparently, there was a ing a day after we arrived (I heard varying reports of 6-8 ers). Whatever. The effects on us were minimal. We visited some of the previous project sites, got a feel for what was going on and how to improve it, and what components of the community centers can be replicated with reckless abandon all over the countryside.
After two days of splendid freedom, we were stranded for three days in our house as snow burried Kabul in beautiful sugary snow, transforming the barren dusty-colored landscape into a veritable winter worderland to contend with anything I've seen in print or actuallity out of the Americas. We've got the Hindu Kush out here. I dare you to find something comparable. Unfortunately, my bliss is anothers' incovenience. One of our team members who missed the flight out of Newark by mere minutes was trapped in the loveable smog and congestion of Delhi for the duration of the storm. Apparently, snow happens infrequently enough that the local airport doesn't have radar or guidance systems for planes arriving or departing in anything but perfect weather. Military bases might be better equipped. Might.
The storm subsided and our team auto-assembled to completion. We set out to our project area and encountered a totally new kind of beauty in surroundings. Along the way, we stopped by another community center in Jegdalek, on the eastern edge of Kabol Province. It seriously looks and feels like the moon. Not that I have been to the surface of the moon. I'm just saying, what I expect I would see, were I ever to visit our great celestial companion, I now would be likely reminded of Jegdalek. Perhaps someday I'll figure out how to post pictures. But our project site is in Nangahar Province. Nangahar is lush and green like nothing I would have expected in Afghanistan. We were welcomed by a village of Pashtuns and enjoyed all the comfort and security the tribe could throw at us, which is quite substantial, indeed. For two days and three nights, we lived like kings, feasting on significantly more fresh meat, produce, and nan than we could handle. And the chai. Kaben, you should come here and try the chai. I mean it doesn't compare to Kenyan, but it's pretty good.
At the project site, my job was primarily to survey. And that's what I did. I read that theodolite look-alike construction transit top to bottom, then started again at the top and read it again. Many many times. The point I'm trying to get across is that we took a lot of geospacial data from that place and I eventually got it all in a compybox so that I could draw pretty curvy lines to print on paper so the smart mister architect could see where he wanted to put his nifty buildings. But the real point I'm trying to get across is that the place was gorgeous. Imagine the biggest snowcapped mountians you can imagine, then imagine them stopping for a couple dozen kilometers, and starting again. Remember that they're snowcapped. Now, in between, instead of the vacuous space I know you were picturing, picture a fertile valley with flowing rivers and endless ditches for irrigation. Along with the agriculture, imagine an agrisociety (word?) all living together in large walled villages of mud houses with thatch roofs supported intermittently by W-Section (I-Beam) girders and poplar posts. Got all that? Now imagine people. All ages of people (up to about 60), all wearing drab shades of brown, all smiling until the instant you whip out your camera (I say your camera because I left my digicam at home). Keeping up? Feel free to reread at your leisure (English?). No one's watching. Now, forget about all the women you were imagining because, if you, like us, were male, you didn't see any of them. Plus, I think they wear brighter colors. But the point is that I didn't see any females over about 8 years old at all. It was bizarro.
We met with the elders of the tribe who, I believe, sincerely want to see an end to the inter-tribal , and especially the Taliban-supported ism in their province. Apparently, this group of Afghans does a terrific job at identifying and apprehending threats to the peace. They told us that in the previous week, they shot and killed three (I believe?) insurgents in the surrounding (did I mention gorgeous?) mountians. You might argue that and ists doesn't sound too similar to creating peace. I would definitely agree with you. Forget it, let's move on. The elders believe that this community center, with an education center and a basic care medical clinic, will help the whole region learn better ways of life that can put an end to and limit disease. We believe some of the agricultural and sanitary demonstrations we plan can improve the health and well-being of the tribe. Everyone agrees that the community center project is going to be a tremendous blessing to all the people of this Pashto tribe.
We left with spirits high and bellies full, stopping on the way back to Kabul to take pictures of the rolling hills of wheat and stationary wheels of tanks. Then a lot of boring design stuff happened and we presented to the staff of the ministry who invited us, after which one Afghan staff member observed (commanded?) "This presentation is over." Time elapsed and we visited a couple of military bases, to meet two of my team leader Scott's old army friends. Both soldiers seemed eager and able to help the ministry with all the power and strength that are the United States Army and Coalition Forces. I don't know what ism is thinking. These guys are loaded in all (both?) possible meanings of the term. So, in all, I think we've been a blessing to the ministry, through our service in design and Scott's strategic relationships with some important guys in green, again in all possible meanings of the term.
This Stan is great. Make me make you listen to me tell you about it sometime.
Well, we flew here from the COS, to Houston, to Newark, to Delhi, and finally to Kabul. This trip was not as gruelling as I might have expected it to. I was able to sleep quite cosily for well over half of the trans-Atlantic flight and didn't seem to have any struggle slipping into this time-zone. The timezone here, by the way, is UTC+4:30. Whoever came up with half time-zones ought to be dealt with harshly. I hope he loses a low-stakes poker match or something. Anyway, I didn't notice any jetlag and enjoyed the first few days here very much. Apparently, there was a ing a day after we arrived (I heard varying reports of 6-8 ers). Whatever. The effects on us were minimal. We visited some of the previous project sites, got a feel for what was going on and how to improve it, and what components of the community centers can be replicated with reckless abandon all over the countryside.
After two days of splendid freedom, we were stranded for three days in our house as snow burried Kabul in beautiful sugary snow, transforming the barren dusty-colored landscape into a veritable winter worderland to contend with anything I've seen in print or actuallity out of the Americas. We've got the Hindu Kush out here. I dare you to find something comparable. Unfortunately, my bliss is anothers' incovenience. One of our team members who missed the flight out of Newark by mere minutes was trapped in the loveable smog and congestion of Delhi for the duration of the storm. Apparently, snow happens infrequently enough that the local airport doesn't have radar or guidance systems for planes arriving or departing in anything but perfect weather. Military bases might be better equipped. Might.
The storm subsided and our team auto-assembled to completion. We set out to our project area and encountered a totally new kind of beauty in surroundings. Along the way, we stopped by another community center in Jegdalek, on the eastern edge of Kabol Province. It seriously looks and feels like the moon. Not that I have been to the surface of the moon. I'm just saying, what I expect I would see, were I ever to visit our great celestial companion, I now would be likely reminded of Jegdalek. Perhaps someday I'll figure out how to post pictures. But our project site is in Nangahar Province. Nangahar is lush and green like nothing I would have expected in Afghanistan. We were welcomed by a village of Pashtuns and enjoyed all the comfort and security the tribe could throw at us, which is quite substantial, indeed. For two days and three nights, we lived like kings, feasting on significantly more fresh meat, produce, and nan than we could handle. And the chai. Kaben, you should come here and try the chai. I mean it doesn't compare to Kenyan, but it's pretty good.
At the project site, my job was primarily to survey. And that's what I did. I read that theodolite look-alike construction transit top to bottom, then started again at the top and read it again. Many many times. The point I'm trying to get across is that we took a lot of geospacial data from that place and I eventually got it all in a compybox so that I could draw pretty curvy lines to print on paper so the smart mister architect could see where he wanted to put his nifty buildings. But the real point I'm trying to get across is that the place was gorgeous. Imagine the biggest snowcapped mountians you can imagine, then imagine them stopping for a couple dozen kilometers, and starting again. Remember that they're snowcapped. Now, in between, instead of the vacuous space I know you were picturing, picture a fertile valley with flowing rivers and endless ditches for irrigation. Along with the agriculture, imagine an agrisociety (word?) all living together in large walled villages of mud houses with thatch roofs supported intermittently by W-Section (I-Beam) girders and poplar posts. Got all that? Now imagine people. All ages of people (up to about 60), all wearing drab shades of brown, all smiling until the instant you whip out your camera (I say your camera because I left my digicam at home). Keeping up? Feel free to reread at your leisure (English?). No one's watching. Now, forget about all the women you were imagining because, if you, like us, were male, you didn't see any of them. Plus, I think they wear brighter colors. But the point is that I didn't see any females over about 8 years old at all. It was bizarro.
We met with the elders of the tribe who, I believe, sincerely want to see an end to the inter-tribal , and especially the Taliban-supported ism in their province. Apparently, this group of Afghans does a terrific job at identifying and apprehending threats to the peace. They told us that in the previous week, they shot and killed three (I believe?) insurgents in the surrounding (did I mention gorgeous?) mountians. You might argue that and ists doesn't sound too similar to creating peace. I would definitely agree with you. Forget it, let's move on. The elders believe that this community center, with an education center and a basic care medical clinic, will help the whole region learn better ways of life that can put an end to and limit disease. We believe some of the agricultural and sanitary demonstrations we plan can improve the health and well-being of the tribe. Everyone agrees that the community center project is going to be a tremendous blessing to all the people of this Pashto tribe.
We left with spirits high and bellies full, stopping on the way back to Kabul to take pictures of the rolling hills of wheat and stationary wheels of tanks. Then a lot of boring design stuff happened and we presented to the staff of the ministry who invited us, after which one Afghan staff member observed (commanded?) "This presentation is over." Time elapsed and we visited a couple of military bases, to meet two of my team leader Scott's old army friends. Both soldiers seemed eager and able to help the ministry with all the power and strength that are the United States Army and Coalition Forces. I don't know what ism is thinking. These guys are loaded in all (both?) possible meanings of the term. So, in all, I think we've been a blessing to the ministry, through our service in design and Scott's strategic relationships with some important guys in green, again in all possible meanings of the term.
This Stan is great. Make me make you listen to me tell you about it sometime.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
What I Do
In case you've been wondering what I actually do at EMI, here's a brief overview of the last couple of weeks at work.
I live in a house with a host family named the Mulhollands high on a hill near the middle of the city. From where my car is parked, I can see Pike's Peak and all the surrounding mountians. Some days, the mountains are covered in snow, but lately it's been melting all the way up Pike. To the south, I can also see the menacing array of antennae sprouting out of NORAD's main base. As I pull out of the driveway, I often notice the Airforce Chapel far to the northwest. Another intern, Danny, also lives in the house. He, I, and two to three other interns carpool together to the office downtown, about 15 minutes away.
Every morning at work begins with either a quick prayer session and devotional or a staff meeting. Fridays have an added bonus of about an hour of worshipping together with music and singing. Once we get started on project work, I do anything from compiling trip packets to send out to the volunteers who will join us in Central Asia, preparing water quality test kits to be used on future project trips, or drafting architectural plans on a computer for one of my trip leader's previous projects. Although nothing I've done has had particular difficulty or required me to dig deeply into my Engineering education, there is tremendous satisfaction that comes with recognizing that everything I am doing there is specifically aimed at serving the kingdom spread throughout the world, and, because I am convinced God called me here, I am doing exactly what I should be doing.
In fact, the knowledge that I am living out my calling makes some daily frustrations quite easily dealt with. During orientation, there were some times when a previous iteration of my self would have become agitated by the banality of the activities. I was feeling a little sick that week--I attribute my symptoms to becoming aclimated to the new altitude and temperature more than any present pathogens--but still merrily hiked with the rest of those becoming oriented to the organization. We spent a significant amount of time that week learning about our characters through written tests that then present us with statistical, sometimes horoscopic analyses of our personalities and spritual gifts. When I had undergone similar testing in highschool, I bitterly disagreed with such uses of time, but this time I went into the entire experience as a part of me becoming prepared to lead a life of ministry, and found that in knowing how to describe myself, I may become better able to find a way to become more like my Lord.
Every Tuesday, our office has an unofficial "Try a New Restaurant Tuesday" (TANR). This last Tuesday, several of the interns, myself included, went to Denny's for free Grandslams. As a side note, I hypothesize that that event was a government-sponsored meal distribution and morale-raising scheme. Either that or a method of distributing a biological agent meant to keep whatever class finds waiting an hour in line for free food worth their time dependant on the government for their wellbeing (i.e. a vaccine or antidote), thus minimizing the likelihood of a successful revolution (people in places of power may be considering this an eminent threat, given the current economic state). In any case, it was good food, and I'm more interested in showing people a better way to live than forcing such a life upon them through legislation.
I try to drink a lot of cocoa, though I accidentally purchased a canister of the fat-free kind. It tastes aweful, so I'm more and more often resorting to EMI's reserves of powdered cider and freshly brewed coffee. Unfortunately, I have yet to discover the Colorado equivalent to WinCo, and my grocery budget is feeling it. I haven't even tried to find fair-trade cocoa, knowing that my income for the next three months may very well be whatever I can squeeze out of my savings account.
On Wednesdays, the interns have their own Bible study; we're doing a book study on Ephesians. So far, we've concluded that the Gentiles are, indeed, supposed to be united to the Jews, and the Jewish followers should be more encouraging to their new bretheren. I think I may be able to put some of this unity into practice as I venture into deep into the Muslim world. Muslims know our God, but their picture of Him is incomplete and oftentimes based more on tradition than on their Holy scriptures. I hope I can treat them lovingly, as lost brothers and sisters who need guidance back to the God they already try so hard to serve. Such a mission will require a special measure of grace and understanding, as I aim to direct them to God, not my heavily Westernized version of Him.
After work, we all carpool back home and sometimes regroup for a nighttime activity. Sometimes this may be dinner and board games, other times we may watch a movie at the $1.50 theatre in town ($0.75 on Tuesdays!). Though I am trying to ween myself off technology-dependant entertainment, relationshiping is still facilitated through high-tech means. I am willing to enjoy a movie or television show with people in order to enjoy communal emotions and the opportunities to chat about the show later on.
So work here is different from anywhere I've ever been before. It's an unusual blend of Christ-centered worship and kingdom-centered activity. I thouroughly enjoy it and recommend it to anyone willing to go without a paycheck for half a year.
I live in a house with a host family named the Mulhollands high on a hill near the middle of the city. From where my car is parked, I can see Pike's Peak and all the surrounding mountians. Some days, the mountains are covered in snow, but lately it's been melting all the way up Pike. To the south, I can also see the menacing array of antennae sprouting out of NORAD's main base. As I pull out of the driveway, I often notice the Airforce Chapel far to the northwest. Another intern, Danny, also lives in the house. He, I, and two to three other interns carpool together to the office downtown, about 15 minutes away.
Every morning at work begins with either a quick prayer session and devotional or a staff meeting. Fridays have an added bonus of about an hour of worshipping together with music and singing. Once we get started on project work, I do anything from compiling trip packets to send out to the volunteers who will join us in Central Asia, preparing water quality test kits to be used on future project trips, or drafting architectural plans on a computer for one of my trip leader's previous projects. Although nothing I've done has had particular difficulty or required me to dig deeply into my Engineering education, there is tremendous satisfaction that comes with recognizing that everything I am doing there is specifically aimed at serving the kingdom spread throughout the world, and, because I am convinced God called me here, I am doing exactly what I should be doing.
In fact, the knowledge that I am living out my calling makes some daily frustrations quite easily dealt with. During orientation, there were some times when a previous iteration of my self would have become agitated by the banality of the activities. I was feeling a little sick that week--I attribute my symptoms to becoming aclimated to the new altitude and temperature more than any present pathogens--but still merrily hiked with the rest of those becoming oriented to the organization. We spent a significant amount of time that week learning about our characters through written tests that then present us with statistical, sometimes horoscopic analyses of our personalities and spritual gifts. When I had undergone similar testing in highschool, I bitterly disagreed with such uses of time, but this time I went into the entire experience as a part of me becoming prepared to lead a life of ministry, and found that in knowing how to describe myself, I may become better able to find a way to become more like my Lord.
Every Tuesday, our office has an unofficial "Try a New Restaurant Tuesday" (TANR). This last Tuesday, several of the interns, myself included, went to Denny's for free Grandslams. As a side note, I hypothesize that that event was a government-sponsored meal distribution and morale-raising scheme. Either that or a method of distributing a biological agent meant to keep whatever class finds waiting an hour in line for free food worth their time dependant on the government for their wellbeing (i.e. a vaccine or antidote), thus minimizing the likelihood of a successful revolution (people in places of power may be considering this an eminent threat, given the current economic state). In any case, it was good food, and I'm more interested in showing people a better way to live than forcing such a life upon them through legislation.
I try to drink a lot of cocoa, though I accidentally purchased a canister of the fat-free kind. It tastes aweful, so I'm more and more often resorting to EMI's reserves of powdered cider and freshly brewed coffee. Unfortunately, I have yet to discover the Colorado equivalent to WinCo, and my grocery budget is feeling it. I haven't even tried to find fair-trade cocoa, knowing that my income for the next three months may very well be whatever I can squeeze out of my savings account.
On Wednesdays, the interns have their own Bible study; we're doing a book study on Ephesians. So far, we've concluded that the Gentiles are, indeed, supposed to be united to the Jews, and the Jewish followers should be more encouraging to their new bretheren. I think I may be able to put some of this unity into practice as I venture into deep into the Muslim world. Muslims know our God, but their picture of Him is incomplete and oftentimes based more on tradition than on their Holy scriptures. I hope I can treat them lovingly, as lost brothers and sisters who need guidance back to the God they already try so hard to serve. Such a mission will require a special measure of grace and understanding, as I aim to direct them to God, not my heavily Westernized version of Him.
After work, we all carpool back home and sometimes regroup for a nighttime activity. Sometimes this may be dinner and board games, other times we may watch a movie at the $1.50 theatre in town ($0.75 on Tuesdays!). Though I am trying to ween myself off technology-dependant entertainment, relationshiping is still facilitated through high-tech means. I am willing to enjoy a movie or television show with people in order to enjoy communal emotions and the opportunities to chat about the show later on.
So work here is different from anywhere I've ever been before. It's an unusual blend of Christ-centered worship and kingdom-centered activity. I thouroughly enjoy it and recommend it to anyone willing to go without a paycheck for half a year.
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