Yes, the translators among you got it right. I did recently spend more than 40 hours in the desert. Literally.
...And yes, it's true, it was an actual, geographical desert.
With a city in it.
In the United Arab Emirates.
________________
...euh...en fait, dans 2 déserts.
If I want to be really technical (which regrettably for millennial readers I always do), the fact is that I had time off to wander not 1, but 2 deserts last month. With the second one being more of a metaphorical desert...
Those of Protestant Christian faith - like me - who know or care that there are countless places & people groups outside Australia where the Church struggles to persevere, grow or produce its own native-speaking local leaders - may have heard about Europe.
That in spite of a long history of Christendom, the European Church is not doing very well spiritually or missionally (compared to the Australian Church esp. in Sydney).
Western Europe in particular has been recently described as a "spiritual desert" by several Aussies who lived there as long-term cross-cultural missionaries (for 5-25 years). And this was, therefore, the other desert in which I wandered in early September. Of course, as friends would have expected of me, the bit I went to was in France.
Yes, while God's people in early Israel's history wandered 40 years in the desert (cf. Exodus through to Deuteronomy in the Bible), I wandered in the desert (first one, then another) just for 40 hours - and then a bit more.
But in a good way, if you can believe it!
________________
After a challenging 8-month run of living between paychecks all year, feeling like I was scraping the bottom of the barrel, the arrival of my tax return in late August meant I finally had a chance to take a week's break from working and go on a proper holiday. And for the first time in 7 years, I could afford flights overseas on my own income (with plenty to spare for present & future utility bills. Merci Seigneur for tax returns!).
So in early September I took the week off daycare and flew to my first desert destination: Dubai.
Désert #1
A modern city financed with oil and built on the shores of the Gulf, Dubai has the kind of advanced air-conditioning that I shall recall with a mixture of great fondness and even greater envy on Sydney's next 34-degree-or-hotter Australian summer day.
I'd hoped to visit this desert city since finishing College with my one-year Diploma. (To much personal grief on my part, God has now made it clear that going to France to join French Christians long-term is not currently an option without a 3-year theology degree. I don't intend to explain this further right now, perhaps in the future I'll blog about it...) When I knew that my September 2018 finances would stretch to overseas airfares, choosing Dubai as a break destination was a no-brainer. Part of going there was to survey, albeit briefly (I stayed only 3 days & 3 nights of my week off work), whether I might find the city personally liveable for up to 2 or 4 or 5 or even maybe 10+ years...
That's because I've never seriously considered remaining in Sydney after graduating from College. Because experiences I had nearly a decade ago - meeting and partnering with French Christian ministry trainees/workers who wanted to reach unsaved university students in Paris (visited 2009-2010) and Strasbourg (visited 2011) - challenged me to re-think my involvement as a mission supporter outside the English-speaking West. Now that studies are done with me, I've spent 2018 thinking through & exploring some options for serving gospel-poorer peoples - including French-speaking Europeans - away from my home city. Options like working as an expatriate in a foreign city, like Dubai, where churches are needier than almost anywhere here in Sydney. (Or even in Melbourne, where churches are, whilst less needy than in Dubai, more needy compared to Sydney.)
Dubai.
One of the tourist guidebooks I read called it a "jewel of the Arabian Desert".
All such tourist literature also supplied blatant warnings about climate extremes, reminding any careful reader of the city's location:
In. The. Desert. (Read: HOT.)
It certainly sounded extreme enough on paper, yet until I got off the plane in Dubai, I could never have previously known or understood what "desert" really meant!
The day I arrived in Dubai, the temperature alone was 46 degrees.
(That's 13 degrees higher than what I'm comfy with in Sydney!)
It was late summer in Dubai, maybe even autumn - but still, gosh, was it HOT! And dry. And hot. And dry. And...
Without its modern comforts - air-conditioning in every building, cheap but good/drinkable bottled water, or world-class city plumbing systems -
Dubai really was, quite literally, in the midst of
"a dry and weary land where there is no water".
(Quoting David the psalmist's sentiments about the desert of Judah in PSALM 63:1.)
Now if you ever want to experience - really experience - a true definition of what "desert" feels like, I highly recommend Dubai in summer!
As for me:
I left for Europe as scheduled after 3 days wandering about in Dubai. (Mainly because I had only a few days left of my week-long break before returning to work in Sydney.)
In terms of where I'm up to in my thinking, I feel fine about continuing to apply for work in Dubai, and remain open to any future leading from God into that city, in particular any educational/residential role that gives me adequate time to join other believers in reaching gospel-poor expatriate peoples (70% of Dubai's population). I would like to believe I would be happy to go, whenever the time comes...
So my stay in the desert ended up being time well spent. I'm so thankful to God for the opportunity to be in Dubai. And for those first 4 days of rest from daycare work! Much more refreshing than one would have expected from a desert.
And then, it was time to revisit the spiritual desert of Europe. Well, the bit of it in France I was going to. But that's for next time...
L/T.
27 October, 2018
06 October, 2018
5+ ans, 1 petite fille, 1 désir exprimé...
From early September just up until now, God has provided some much-needed rest (after a very busy 8 months of working with babies and preschoolers and every age in-between). Time to stop and think has been provided, too.
The last "holiday" event I attended before returning to the normal pace of work was a three-day camp with believing children, women and men. Most of the adults (to date) have had doors opened for them to serve God somewhere full-time.
That is, whilst I've spent most of the past year working with an excellent but secular early childhood company (where talking about Jesus - or other religious figureheads - all week long is just *not done*), the majority of my fellow campers have been working in church or para-church settings as paid ministers of the good news of Jesus. Assistant ministers, youth pastors, women's and/or children's ministers, staff-workers with university Christian student groups, all kinds of roles where they have the freedom - though not always the opportunity, or open doors - to point people to Jesus all week long (without needing to generate income externally as a few of us still do).
I knew the campers from Bible college - we all started studying in the same year (2014), and I finished my part-time course the same time that most of them finished their 4-year theology degrees (we had graduation earlier this year). In the latter three years I got to know those of the cohort really worth knowing, particularly some who were mums and dads with children under five years old. (It helped that a large handful of the kids were in my preschool Sunday School class, saw/played with/clowned around with me during the week at College, and introduced me to all their other preschool-aged friends.) To this day I'd say it was they, as much as their parents, whose open and hospitable spirit made me feel most welcomed and at home in the College bubble.
The camp was effectively a three-day reunion gathering for our College cohort. Songs, sharing, Bible talks or reflections, praying, catching-up, a little bit of weeping - and playing (more done by the children than the grown-ups). Camp for me was spent interacting as much with all my littlest friends (read: playing - it's my job description at work. Yes, really!) as with my grown-up friends (both married and singles).
Leading to a rather moving moment on the last day of camp, when I was predictably among the kids (I work in early childhood, but not as an ECT, so focusing on play with children makes up much of my working days - and is a hard habit to break!).
There was a lull in the rainy-day game that our group of little friends had made up collaboratively. At the time, 1 little girl was sitting with me. Aged 5, in Kindergarten, but still happy to be hanging out with the preschoolers (one being her 3 y.o. brother). As we watched the other girls and boys galumphing about and running in and out of the room, she turned to me and expressed this one wistful thought:
"I wish we could all live together in the same house, all the time."
I knew what she meant.
I used to feel the same way as a teenager on the final day of youth camps with believers from my church.
I knew a number of the mums were already feeling emotional about saying goodbye to each other that day. Knowing that friends and Christian sisters who really understood the struggles of ministry would soon be 2 or 3 or 14 hours' drive away. I'd seen the redness in their eyes, the tears on their cheeks, the sadness of their hearts reflected on their faces. While my little friend had obviously really enjoyed her time with the other children from the College cohort, while it felt like a little piece of heaven being together with our wider Christian family from the Moore community - she didn't like the idea of having to say goodbye.
And neither did I.
This little girl may have spoken only to me, and yet she speaks for all of us, in a way. Being in community with Christian families and singles can be great fun; sometimes it's a great encouragement to live cheek-by-jowl with your sisters and brothers and children in Christ. It was like that for many of us on this camp. In our hearts (just like this 1 little girl) we'd love to keep all being together, in the same house, all the time.
And the good news is that, one day, we WILL be living together.
In the same house.
All the time.
Because it's actually what Jesus promised His disciples, His believing friends.
In our time, that means us - any child or grown-up or family for whom Christ Jesus is Saviour and Lord.
Here's the proof, in John chapter 14, verses 1 to 3:
"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in Me.
In My Father's house there are many rooms;
if it were not so, I would have told you.
I am going there to prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place for you,
I will come back and take you to be with Me
that you also may be where I am."
________________
For my 5-year-old friend, for her family, for all our friends on camp (both children and grown-ups), we have a sure hope that one day we will be with the Lord forever.
And yet the reason we all trained for Christian ministry at theological college was because Jesus didn't die only for "us".
Because the Father sent His Son to be the Saviour of the world (1 JOHN 4:14).
We signed up for College (well, the grown-ups did) because we wanted to be better equipped to tell a lost and hell-bound world about hope and salvation and eternal life in Jesus.
Because we wanted to share His good news with others who don't know (or who do know, but don't want to really listen).
________________
Yes, it would be great for all of us, who now believe, to be together with Jesus in His Father's house.
And yet we face a task unfinished.
The task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace to those who have never heard it, or those who have never listened. And the task of encouraging one another to keep trusting Jesus.
To keep growing in knowledge and love of Him, to keep persevering when life is tough or we face disappointment, heartbreak, grief, illness, danger, death...
There will come a day when our time on earth is done, and when (as desired, just a little, this past week) we will be together, in the same house, all the time.
But right now, whilst we live - in Sydney's west or east or north or north shore, in Melbourne, in Queanbeyan, in Toowoomba, in Shellharbour, in Hobart, Auckland, Christchurch, London, Singapore or even an unnamed but known East Asian megacity - and whilst we have the strength God gives us, and until Jesus takes us home to His Father's house, we share the good news about Him in the hope that many more will be saved.
And that they will join us.
REVELATION 7:9
L/T.
The last "holiday" event I attended before returning to the normal pace of work was a three-day camp with believing children, women and men. Most of the adults (to date) have had doors opened for them to serve God somewhere full-time.
That is, whilst I've spent most of the past year working with an excellent but secular early childhood company (where talking about Jesus - or other religious figureheads - all week long is just *not done*), the majority of my fellow campers have been working in church or para-church settings as paid ministers of the good news of Jesus. Assistant ministers, youth pastors, women's and/or children's ministers, staff-workers with university Christian student groups, all kinds of roles where they have the freedom - though not always the opportunity, or open doors - to point people to Jesus all week long (without needing to generate income externally as a few of us still do).
I knew the campers from Bible college - we all started studying in the same year (2014), and I finished my part-time course the same time that most of them finished their 4-year theology degrees (we had graduation earlier this year). In the latter three years I got to know those of the cohort really worth knowing, particularly some who were mums and dads with children under five years old. (It helped that a large handful of the kids were in my preschool Sunday School class, saw/played with/clowned around with me during the week at College, and introduced me to all their other preschool-aged friends.) To this day I'd say it was they, as much as their parents, whose open and hospitable spirit made me feel most welcomed and at home in the College bubble.
The camp was effectively a three-day reunion gathering for our College cohort. Songs, sharing, Bible talks or reflections, praying, catching-up, a little bit of weeping - and playing (more done by the children than the grown-ups). Camp for me was spent interacting as much with all my littlest friends (read: playing - it's my job description at work. Yes, really!) as with my grown-up friends (both married and singles).
Leading to a rather moving moment on the last day of camp, when I was predictably among the kids (I work in early childhood, but not as an ECT, so focusing on play with children makes up much of my working days - and is a hard habit to break!).
There was a lull in the rainy-day game that our group of little friends had made up collaboratively. At the time, 1 little girl was sitting with me. Aged 5, in Kindergarten, but still happy to be hanging out with the preschoolers (one being her 3 y.o. brother). As we watched the other girls and boys galumphing about and running in and out of the room, she turned to me and expressed this one wistful thought:
"I wish we could all live together in the same house, all the time."
I knew what she meant.
I used to feel the same way as a teenager on the final day of youth camps with believers from my church.
I knew a number of the mums were already feeling emotional about saying goodbye to each other that day. Knowing that friends and Christian sisters who really understood the struggles of ministry would soon be 2 or 3 or 14 hours' drive away. I'd seen the redness in their eyes, the tears on their cheeks, the sadness of their hearts reflected on their faces. While my little friend had obviously really enjoyed her time with the other children from the College cohort, while it felt like a little piece of heaven being together with our wider Christian family from the Moore community - she didn't like the idea of having to say goodbye.
And neither did I.
This little girl may have spoken only to me, and yet she speaks for all of us, in a way. Being in community with Christian families and singles can be great fun; sometimes it's a great encouragement to live cheek-by-jowl with your sisters and brothers and children in Christ. It was like that for many of us on this camp. In our hearts (just like this 1 little girl) we'd love to keep all being together, in the same house, all the time.
And the good news is that, one day, we WILL be living together.
In the same house.
All the time.
Because it's actually what Jesus promised His disciples, His believing friends.
In our time, that means us - any child or grown-up or family for whom Christ Jesus is Saviour and Lord.
Here's the proof, in John chapter 14, verses 1 to 3:
"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in Me.
In My Father's house there are many rooms;
if it were not so, I would have told you.
I am going there to prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place for you,
I will come back and take you to be with Me
that you also may be where I am."
________________
For my 5-year-old friend, for her family, for all our friends on camp (both children and grown-ups), we have a sure hope that one day we will be with the Lord forever.
And yet the reason we all trained for Christian ministry at theological college was because Jesus didn't die only for "us".
Because the Father sent His Son to be the Saviour of the world (1 JOHN 4:14).
We signed up for College (well, the grown-ups did) because we wanted to be better equipped to tell a lost and hell-bound world about hope and salvation and eternal life in Jesus.
Because we wanted to share His good news with others who don't know (or who do know, but don't want to really listen).
________________
Yes, it would be great for all of us, who now believe, to be together with Jesus in His Father's house.
And yet we face a task unfinished.
The task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace to those who have never heard it, or those who have never listened. And the task of encouraging one another to keep trusting Jesus.
To keep growing in knowledge and love of Him, to keep persevering when life is tough or we face disappointment, heartbreak, grief, illness, danger, death...
There will come a day when our time on earth is done, and when (as desired, just a little, this past week) we will be together, in the same house, all the time.
But right now, whilst we live - in Sydney's west or east or north or north shore, in Melbourne, in Queanbeyan, in Toowoomba, in Shellharbour, in Hobart, Auckland, Christchurch, London, Singapore or even an unnamed but known East Asian megacity - and whilst we have the strength God gives us, and until Jesus takes us home to His Father's house, we share the good news about Him in the hope that many more will be saved.
And that they will join us.
REVELATION 7:9
L/T.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
