Meeting over cats

Gina here.

One of the hard parts about packing up our life in Kansas City and moving with a couple of suitcases to another part of the world to serve in missions was giving up our cat.

We had Sophie just over a year, but her sparkling emerald eyes, her puppy dog shadowing of Andrew and her desire to be stroked and cuddled anywhere at any time, deeply attached us to her. We are fortunate that we didn't have to give her away forever. Andrew's family, who had two other pets, kindly took her in for the year we are on contract in Germany/Switzerland. Sophie was my first ever pet (outside of a hamster or gerbil). Before owning her, I'd thought I was a dog person, but now I'm sold on cats.

It was interesting to notice, once we got here, that Busingen is a thriving metropolis of cats. There are cats EVERYWHERE. Being that it is a farming region, I theorize that the cats are meant to keep the rodent population down, so they all live outside, freely wandering the gardens, alleys and sidewalks of the village. Seeing cats everywhere makes me homesick for Sophie. Sadly, because they're outdoors cats, most of them are skittish, turning tail to run anytime I show a sign of wanting to approach one.

Across the street from the Regional Communication Center where I work, there is one cat that strolls slowly around the town church every day. His coat is a patchwork of jet black and pure white, and he has one shrunken or damaged ear. I figure he lives in one of the homes nearby. I also learned that he won't run if I approach, and lazily rolls over on his side for a good belly scratch each time I pay him a visit. Recently I picked up a pet brush at a local "dollar store" to see if he'd let me brush him, since he's shedding his winter coat.

Today, I saw him getting some shade in a rose bed in front of the church, and I went over to say hello. As I brushed him, a woman on a bicycle stopped in front of me and began gesturing to the cat and speaking in German. I haven't had any opportunity to take a class in German yet, so I just said, "No sprechen sie Deutsch. English?"

She easily switched to English, asking me if the cat had been hurt by a car. I explained that he was just lazing in the shade and I came over to give him a good scratch. At that explanation, the cat stood up, stretched and then rolled onto his side by my leg and gestured that more scratching was in order.

The woman laughed. I explained about how I missed my cat and see this one each day from my office window, so I came down to make friends. She told me the cat belongs to a family behind the church, and they named it "Filu." (I'm sure my spelling is wrong.) She said the cat is very old, but got its name because it was so friendly all over the village.

"If a man went around the village visiting all the women, he would be called 'Filu.' That's how this cat got his name," she explained. We both had a good laugh at that. She pointed at the cat, which now had a paw draped across my leg and was rubbing his head against my knee. "See? He's in looovee," she said, drawing it out.

Filu stood up and slowly wandered away, apparently realizing he was becoming the butt of some jokes.

The woman said the owners would have a laugh over my story of going so far as to buy a pet brush for a cat that's not even mine. Then the woman asked me my name. I gave it, and asked hers: Anita. Then we wished each other a good day.

This was only my second time to be able to chat with a resident of the village. Most of the time, people are busy on their way places or working in their gardens. The language barrier generally limits us to a friendly nod and the customary greeting, "Gruetzi."

It's funny what can open the door to a conversation. I hope that this unexpected chat about a cat will give me a chance to talk to Anita again.

The End of a Semester

Eight students graduated yesterday: one with a Certificate in Spiritual Formation, four with Certificates in Christian Ministry, and three with Bachelor of Arts Degrees in Religion (one of those graduating with honors). Congratulations to Sara Schmidt, Florentina Enes, Carla Zabala Vidaurre, Gideon de Jong, Victor Pereira, Niels Tacoma, Alec Marfenko, and Matthew Erwin!

With the students already beginning to leave this morning, a peaceful silence falls on the campus. For these eight students, it is the end of their sojourn at EuNC and the beginning of a new chapter in their journey. Some will pursue further studies while others will step into their respective roles of ministry. A few may not be sure of what lies ahead. All are open to whatever the Lord has in store for them.

Gina and I have greatly enjoyed our time becoming acquainted with a number of these students. We will also be saying goodbye to Jason and Regan Veach (and their son, Carter) who volunteered at EuNC during the past year. They are returning to the United States next month to pursue pastoral ministry in a local church. Gina and I have enjoyed getting to know this wonderful family over the past few months, and we pray that God will make their way smooth as they transition back into American life. We hope and pray that all the friendships we have developed endure and have a chance to deepen.

With the summer break already upon us, we consider how life will change for us. Various Work & Witness teams will arrive to help out on a number of projects. It is my understanding that a couple of older ladies with library experience are interested in helping me in the library. I have a few projects lined up for us to work on together. I imagine that some of my duties will change for the summer, as my presence in the library will no longer be so important with no students on campus.

I have some personal projects and goals I would like to accomplish during the break. For starters, I will be once again teaching Intro to New Testament to a new group of students in November, and I would like to spend time this summer re-vamping my materials in preparation for that. I am also excited about pursuing some type of research project. I've gotten strange looks from people who can't imagine I would do such a thing for "fun," but my brain is rested and restored by this time after leaving my seminary coursework behind. I'm hoping to keep up my skills and learn some things by pursuing further research into the early church, particularly the life and thought of some early church theologians. Hey, I might as well take full advantage of the opportunities afforded to me by running a library, right?

Gina will continue working hard this summer on "Engage" magazine. Her colleague, Tiki Lobo, is doing a wonderful job carrying much of Gina's load with the Eurasia newsletter, "Where Worlds Meet," as well as the weekly "Snap Shots" which are sent across the region. Gina is able to focus the majority of her time and effort on the web magazine. She is also working hard at finding and developing new writers to contribute their stories to "Engage." Word is continuing to spread throughout the denomination about this valuable online resource!

Gina and I are looking forward to the arrival of Gina's father toward the beginning of September! It will be the first family visit we've had since we've been here. We can't wait to see him!

There is much to keep us occupied this summer, but we are looking forward to a time of rest as well. Please continue to keep us in your prayers!

Being Far Away From Home

It is never easy to hear of bad news. It is certainly difficult when you're thousands of miles away and can do nothing to help friends or family back home who are experiencing tough times.

Gina and I have received our share of news from home that has been hard to hear. Both of our families have experienced circumstances since we've left which make us both wish we could be physically present to offer comfort and encouragement. Or simply to be physically present, period.

How do we handle bad news from home when there's nothing we can do to help, even if we were physically present?

On the one hand, it seems rather heartless to recall to mind the Scriptures that talk about "putting your hand to the plow" and not looking back. Or the other saying of Jesus that tells us our love for God must be so great that our love for our families looks like hatred in comparison.

I mean, come on, really? It's one thing to leave one's home, family and friends to volunteer for a year as a cross-cultural missionary. In which case, such Scriptures make a lot more sense and sound less heartless. Sometimes God does call people to leave what's comfortable, ditch our support system, and go someplace new and do something for Him.

But does Jesus, the very embodiment of God's love for us, actually want us to suck it up and ignore or otherwise refuse to think about those we've left behind ... particularly when those closest to us are facing tragic or painful circumstances? Are we to say we value God's kingdom so much that we just don't bother giving a rip about other people?

Obviously not.

This is when one really depends on prayer and trust in God. Do we believe God really loves our families at least as much as we do, or infinitely beyond it? Do we believe God, unlike us, has the ability to be everywhere at once - so that He is able to look after our families even while being a rock of support for us? Is prayer really effective, does it actually do anything or is it just a religious method of positive thinking? Can we trust God to take care of those we are unable to care for ourselves? Is He worthy of such total reliance?

I think I can speak for Gina as well as for myself on the following. We believe wholeheartedly that God inspired us with the desire to come here and do what we're doing, that He made the way possible, and that He has been working in and through us the whole time. We also believe that, in fact, prayer is not an ultimately useless way of thinking good thoughts on behalf of those we love. We believe God has made prayer, in some mysterious way we don't understand and can't explain, the most effective means of doing anything. It's not a last resort, or even the only thing we can depend on. It's our first and best line of defense, and it's the best we can offer those we care about whether or not we're also physically present.

So even while our families have each experienced hurt, fear, grief and loss in the few months we've been away from them, and while it doesn't make it less difficult to hear the bad news from home knowing there's "nothing" we can do ... we have left our loved ones securely in the hands of our Father, and we believe that is where they are going to be safest, most comforted, and most cared for. To do so is not a once and for all deal, it's sometimes a daily challenge. Any time we hear bad news from home, we have to commit our friends and families to God's care all over again. Doing so enables Gina and I to continue serving the Lord where He has placed us.

Border Stories

If you live around EuNC or the Eurasia Regional Office long, you're bound to hear some border horror stories. With all the missionaries, volunteers, guests and students coming and going over the years, there are some doozies.

Like the time a guy drove through a pedestrian crossing zone when a person was standing at the curb trying to decide whether to walk across the street or not. According to local law, the missionary driver should have stopped and waited for the person anyway, even though he was doing nothing more than sneezing in the direction of the crosswalk.

A Swiss patrol car was parked across the street and the officer pulled him over and wrote him a ticket for 400 Swiss francs (equivalent to $400). The rule is that you pay cash on the spot. It's not like you can pay it in the mail or traffic court later. The missionary had to walk on foot several miles to the nearest ATM (while the officer waited with his car) and attempt to withdraw the 400 francs. When he realized he didn't even have that much money in his account, he had to call a number of friends and have them drive to meet him bringing as much cash as they had so he could pay the ticket and get his car back.

Or the time when a couple drove across the border into Germany to do some grocery shopping. They stopped at the border control to get their receipt stamped, which gives them the right to receive their Germany sales taxes back the next time they shop in Germany. However, before they went home, they had eaten some of the fruit on the way.

When they got to the Swiss border control, the border guard conducted the routine check of their purchases and couldn't find some of the items which were shown on the receipt -- the fruit they'd eaten. The taxes on these items would have amounted to about 40 cents. But because they didn't have the items they claimed to have paid taxes for, according to local law this constituted tax fraud. They were held for questioning for an hour, and charges were filed against them. They had to go to court and the entire debacle took months to sort out, just for 40 cents.

Then there was the time a visiting professor wanted to drive himself into Germany to buy some groceries, but he didn't speak a word of German. Locals told him that when he was stopped at the border, the German border guard would ask him if he had anything to declare. All he had to do was say, "Nein," meaning "No," and they would wave him through.

When he got to the border, he rolled down his window and the guard leaned in. But instead of asking whether he had anything to declare, the border guard instructed him -- in German -- to show his driver's license. Following the instructions he'd been given, the professor smiled widely and said, "Nein."

Stories like these rushed through my mind in a blur several nights ago when we were randomly stopped by some police in Schaffhausen conducting routine traffic control. We were on our way home around 10:30 p.m. from dinner at a friend's house. I guess it wasn't so much getting pulled over that resurrected these stories in my memory because I hadn't done anything wrong.

It was when they asked me for my driver's license, and I remembered both my wallet and passport were in my laptop bag back at the office.

I discovered this while Andrew was with the young, female officer back at the trunk, digging out a little book with our car registration papers. He wasn't sure exactly which papers they needed, so the lady flipped through the book and found it for him. Already this was sending the signals that we were probably tourists, or at least brand new to the country.

When she came back to my side of the car, I admitted that I didn't have the driver's license.

A bit startled, she said, "Oh? Well, where is it?"

"I think it's back at my office in my laptop bag," I said, apologetic.

"Where's your office?"

"It's in Buesingen," and I gave her the address.

Buesingen was very close to where were at that moment. So she said, "I will hold your papers here. You go back and get it."

That was unexpected; I wasn't sure I understood.

Attempting to clarify, I asked, "You want me to stay here while my husband gets it?" I asked. Surely driving without a license would involve a BIG fine in Switzerland, if they charge people 400 francs for going through a crosswalk when a pedestrian is just looking at it.

"No no!" she said, smiling and waving me on. "You can go."

"Um, do you want him to drive?" I asked, pointing at Andrew.

"No no!" she insisted, laughing now at my discomfort, as if to assure me this was no big deal. "Go ahead, it's fine."

A little confused, we drove home in the dark; I got my license and passport from the computer bag and we went back. On the way, I tried to resign myself to the huge fine that was coming, or worse. After all, I've learned from daily contact with the border guards and police in both Germany and Switzerland that they are very nice people, but very dedicated to their jobs, to the rules and to making sure society is orderly. Order is highly valued in this part of Europe, whereas we tolerate a bit more chaos in the United States. So, when you break the rules, there is usually a swift penalty.

I swung the car onto the sidewalk, rolled down my window and handed the license to the same officer, saying, "I'm sorry about that. I just left work in too much of a rush, I guess."

She gave a polite chuckle and said, "Don't worry. We all do it sometimes."

My license was so different from the Swiss ones that she didn't know how to read it. So she went with her flashlight over to another officer and they looked at it for a long time. By now her casual demeanor had me completely relaxed. I knew they weren't going to hassle me, although I was still concerned about how big the ticket was going to be. I've been warned numerous times that the traffic fines are very, very large.

Once they were satisfied with our papers, she returned everything to me. Instead of starting to write out a ticket, she began to make small talk: "So, you're from America? How long are you here? A few weeks?"

"We're here for a year, down at the Bible school," I said, throwing in the part about the school for good measure -- everyone in the immediate vicinity knows the Bible school and it has a very good reputation.

"My husband just finished grad school so we're volunteering in Busingen now." I always throw that in because it's so common in Europe for people to spend a year abroad after they finish high school or university. I figure it's something people here can relate to and makes our being here for so long appear more normal and understandable.

She laughed at the explanation. "The Swiss go to America and you come here," she said, shaking her head. Then she wished us a good night. We looked at each other, shrugged and eased onto the road.

I still can't believe we got by without a ticket. Hopefully, that's our only border story.

Meet a student Part 3

This is the third part of the story of Cezi, a student from Albania who consented to share about God's work in her life, leading her to a life-changing relationship with Jesus Christ and to being a student at EuNC. This is the final part. To read parts 1 and 2, scroll further down in the June section of this blog.

-- Gina

The future
For sure I know I’m going back to Italy because I want to finish my other degree in engineering. Also, my contract with the church is that for every year of scholarship I need to give a year of service to the district. For sure I’m going there after I graduate.

It’s hard to say whether I have a call for being a pastor or a missionary or something else. I have only seen myself as a person who will do anything that is needed. I have always been working in social justice. My mom has an organization for orphan kids. My desire for the future is, when I go back to Italy, I would like to connect the church with social work and social justice. The government takes care of most of the needs of the society, but I want to find a connection, especially with the immigrants. And I would like to teach. I’m thinking of doing a master’s degree in global development and social justice. Unless things change this is what I’m thinking about.

I would like to use engineering as a second job to support myself. It puts me in contact with other people outside the church.

My mom is a Christian now; she is going to church. This has been a big surprise because I always told God, “You can do anything in this world except convert my mom. She will never change.”

Two years ago she started to be so involved with the church. There were a couple of missionaries that were in the Pentecostal church and she got very close with them. They had a great influence on her. My best friends – the two friends who led me to Christ – go and visit my mom very often. It was an environment that God worked through to bring her to Him.

As for my former religion, people in that religion back home ask me to come and talk about Christianity and how we see things and explain differences in interpretation. It opened a big door. The leaders of that faith community ask me to go to coffee and reflect theologically.

Meet a student Part 2

In a previous entry, I posted the first part of a story shared with me by Cezi, a student at European Nazarene College (EuNC). Cezi is from Albania and is a strong leader on campus. I am posting her life story, as she has told it to me in her words, in three parts. Here is the second part. (To see the first part, scroll down to the previous entry.)

-- Gina

When I was 17, I went to Italy to study engineering. God opened the doors to get there to study and I got involved in the church. It’s where I met the Church of the Nazarene. I decided to become a member of the church. I became the NMI president for three to four years. I was youth leader for a year, served on the church board and worship group, everything.

Before coming to EuNC 4 years ago, I went to South Africa for Third Wave. The preacher was talking about giving to God our five breads and two fishes; give everything and not just four breads and one fish. He will change our lives and the lives of people around us.

Since I saw so much injustice, I said, “God this is my life and I’m giving my five breads and two fishes, if this is going to be helpful to other people I give you all my self.”

Oh my gosh, many times I wish I didn’t do that prayer because from that moment all my life was going down and down. I started losing everything that was security for me. Especially the last two months before coming here, in a week I lost everything. The government denied the renewal of my documents so I couldn’t finish in the university. I couldn’t work anymore. I got depressed; I didn’t have joy in serving God. I didn’t trust Him anymore. I came to the point I said, “God, I don’t want anything, I just want peace.”

I did not get even that. It was very hard for me. Then I came to the point where I said, “If I have to spend the rest of my life in this condition, that is fine; I am choosing you anyway.”

I think that is the moment where everything changed. I said to God, “Let’s make a project together.” I work with projects (laughing). “I’m willing to go in a Bible school somewhere for six months, but I don’t have anything. I’m just giving you my availability, but you have to provide.”

I wrote down the seven points that I needed:
1. Scholarship
2. That my church would agree and recognize I have a gift
3. My family would agree (my mom would have had a heart attack knowing I was leaving engineering for theology)
4. Since I was providing for my family by working, that God provide another way for them to be supported
5. Documents and a visa to go somewhere to study
6. Somebody else could take over in the church the things I was doing
7. That I wouldn’t lose all the studies I had done with the university there

On Monday I received this phone call from the education coordinator of our district, Jessica Morris.

“You know, EuNC is giving scholarships for one year and I was thinking you and Sara can go there for six months, divide the scholarship together so you can go faster with the program.”

I started crying. The next day I talked to my pastor. He said the exact words I wrote in my journal: “Me and the church support you and recognize you have a gift for this.” I was crying again.

The other point—my mom. She was like, “You should go. Since you became a Christian, you have been so perseverant in this. It is time you respond to God in the gift he is giving you.” I couldn’t believe my mom was talking like that.

Then in my team with NMI, there was one of the guys who was a new Christian but he was so passionate for mission. I helped him to develop skills so he could take my place and he did a great job and still does.

Then I went to my university and asked them what would happen if I stopped. They told me that if you stop university for two years, you can restart the studies where you left off.

But God started to ask me for steps of faith. Everything was perfect, but now there was this part where I needed to make a decision. I said, “OK, God, I’m just going to accept that you are opening every door. I’ll do this and you’re going to provide the rest.”

I applied for German documents. That was a miracle. To get a German visa takes at least two months and I got it in two weeks. Every step was a miracle. I needed to have a document from the school, but the school was closed because it was August. But one morning I just decided to go and see. At the same time I arrived there, the secretary of the school was leaving for vacation and forgot something in the office. She was just there 5 minutes – the same time I came to see if I could get the document I needed.

Everything worked out. When I got all the visas, the field educational coordinator called me and said she was willing with her deputation funds to give me a two-year scholarship. It was just perfect.

During that time it was just rebuilding my relationship with God. I really didn’t believe him anymore. I was feeling guilty because I knew I should. If I would see all the things He had done in my life, I was like, “Are you stupid not trusting Him?” But I just couldn’t see it or feel it. It was just too far for me. I even told my church that although I was a leader in the church, I didn’t trust God any more. They said, “This is where we hold you.”

It was a painful process of learning, but at the same time, so rich.

Meet a student Part 1

One of the things we have treasured during our first four months serving and living at European Nazarene College is meeting and getting to know the amazing students.

These young people from across Europe have answered God's call to pursue a deeper walk with Him through theological studies, and to prepare for ministry in many forms in their home countries.

I sat down recently with a student named Cezi, from Albania, and listened to her story. I wanted to share it with you, so you would begin to get to know some of these students as we have. I am posting her story as she has told it to me, in three parts. -- Gina

Part 1

I grew up with my two parents. My father was of one religion and my mom was from another. My father was a politician during the dictatorship, but he was against the political system so he was in jail for 12 years. My mom waited for him these 12 years, so they got married when my father got out of jail.

After that the government sent them in north Albania to do hard work. For the people who get out of jail, working in the north was enforced discipline.

My parents were very good in not making us feel bad about the situation, but we started to experience discrimination when we went to school. When I was a kid, I started asking why. My parents called me Mrs. Why.

One of my questions was about God. I knew the concept of God. When I was 5, I wrote letters to God and put them in the window and different places around the house. If he was real, he would take them. Once I didn’t find my letter. I don’t know the reason. That impressed me so much. That was the first engagement with God, saying, “Oh, he is there.”

My parents couldn’t talk to me about God, because the position they were in, it would have been very dangerous for them to give me religious ideas. The dictatorship would not allow religious ideas.

We would celebrate sometimes my mom’s religion and my father’s religion, especially in 1990 when the dictatorship was over. In that period in the area where I was living, some leaders from my dad’s religion came and started giving all the answers to the questions I had that my parents couldn’t answer me.

My parents didn’t talk in terms of religion, but in terms of God. I grew up not distinguishing one religion from another. It was just God, and for me it was the same thing.

My parents told us we could choose any practice, any religion, as long as we didn’t switch one day here and one day there. When I was 7, I decided to follow my dad’s religion (it is not a Christian religion). I was so passionate. I studied and I learned to read and I learned all these prayers in the original language of the religion.

When I was 11, my father had a car accident and he died. For me that was the worst thing in the world. For me, my father was God. It was my father and then God. I got so mad at God. I told God I would not follow my father’s religion anymore.

It’s not that I denied God; I said, “You are an unjust God. You stay where you are and I can deal with my life by myself.” I didn’t want to accept the death of my father. I didn’t go to his funeral or cry. For me it was something that never happened. I kept this way for 7 or 8 months.

After the death of my father my family moved more in the middle part of Albania. New school, new friends, new place. I became very violent with people and my family. Everybody was scared of me; I just changed completely.

In my school there were these two girls. They would talk to me about Jesus. One of the things you learn when you’re of my father’s religion is that all other religions are bad, but the your faith is the only one that’s right. I had all the arguments for any kind of religion to prove they were untrue. The girls were so nice; they were so lovely and I couldn’t believe why they would be still friends with me if I was treating them so bad.

They invited me to their church. I said, OK, I’m going to go and show these Christians the truth. I was very arrogant as a kid (laughing). I got so involved with the church and the people, with the games. The people were so nice. When I went home I told my mom. My mom said, “No, you’re not going to go there anymore.”

My family was disappointed in me because I made the choice to quit my father’s religion. Now going to another religion—Christianity—that was very bad. I was afraid of disappointing the will of my father. I gave up Christianity, but God didn’t give up with me.

At the same period, when I was 11, this teacher from Canada came to teach English in our school. He was a Christian. One day he invited me and my two friends to his house, saying he wanted to open a church in the city where we were living and he needed us to give out invitations. I told him I didn’t agree with what he was doing, but I would help him because he was my friend.

I took all the hundreds of brochures and gave them out all over the place. But I never actually read one. One night I had just one of them left and I was going home. It was a very hard time because I was starting to realize the death of my father.

That night I went into the bedroom and that was the moment where I realized my father was gone. I couldn’t breathe because I was crying so hard and in so much pain. I had this brochure. One side was the invitation for the service and the other side was comics with the story of Jesus. At the end it said, “If you want God as your father, just ask and invite him into your life.”

That was the moment there was pain in realizing I had been stupid with God, keeping Him away from my life. But at the same time there was this acceptance with God. Let’s start over in a new way now. In that moment I realized “I have lost a god-like father and found a father-like God.”

From that moment things became very hard with my family. For one year my mom told me I couldn’t go anywhere but school and home. I couldn’t go to church or do anything. I really had a hard time with my mom. But at the end of this year, I told my mom, “This is my decision, and even if you keep me close for the rest of my life in our home, this wouldn’t change me because my faith is becoming stronger.”

I really changed from black to white in my behavior, helping my sisters and helping her with the home and everything. That impressed her so much so she said I could attend computer and English classes (at the church) since she didn’t have the money to provide these classes. So I started going to church and she allowed also my sisters to come with me.

I started teaching in the church. My two friends and I were very young. At the same time we were teaching we were also learning, because you were learning the story first yourself. We were the elders of the church, me and the other two friends.

When I look back I am glad that I did that year being home because it was just me, God and the Bible. I always told people I never changed religion, I just grew up with my relationship with God. I started with my father’s religion and this helped me a lot to learn about God and discipline; that our God is a friend but he’s also God. With that religion I learned what it means to have a God. With Christ I learned how to have this God as a friend who is closer to my life and have a more intimate relationship with Him. Also, through His Spirit to have access to his Spirit. It was a gradual growth.