The last, the least, the greatest. same thing.
In all of this, I was struck by one reality: It’s all about relationships. At one point, Pastor Jim did an interview on the radio. Pretty cool. Probably thousands and thousands of people got to hear him. He came away a little befuddled. It was a unique experience. Listeners called in and he had to come up with answers really fast. But I thought about my life. It’s never really been changed by some quick snippet I heard on the radio or even by some real powerful preacher saying something to a humongous crowd of people.
My life has been most changed as a result of watching people’s everyday lives and becoming hungry, even jealous. Or, through people watching my life closely and loving me enough to contradict me and off-kilter ideas, as well as by meetings with God where he took some truth in a moment and put his power on it, and his grace and mercy, and it penetrated whatever dumbness and resistance I had, grabbed hold of whatever willingness was in me, and began to work revelation and change in me. I think speaking to 20,000 people would be cool, but when I think about it – I realize God wants personal relationship. Think of Jesus. He could have come in a time when tv’s and the internet could have broadcasted him everywhere at once. All his miracles could be documented and filed. He could have gone corporate but he didn’t. He came to average people and turned the world upside down. And now He wants to be with me.
When I think of ministry, it’s usually a formal thing. A stage, microphone, crowds, web-sites, a cool logo, newsletters, and big offerings. Maybe a tour bus. But I’m starting to get addicted to this relational thing. Can you imagine it? I flew half way around the world to spend time with our translator and talk with her for hours as we took the metro. Hours as we stood in the mall (others shopped, but neither of us were shoppers so we just stood there and talked).
Most of what I did, was have conversations with people. Hug them. Look them in the eye. See them day after day. Learn their names. Pray with them one after another.
I also think God sent me to love Maria and be loved by her. She was the grandma I stayed with. Our communication skills were ridiculously lacking. Next time, I’m going to learn some vocab before I go. Both of us had our English/Russian dictionaries, but it was so cumbersome that we’d often throw our hands up in the air and just laugh, or I’d say “I’m sorry I’m sorry” over and over in Russian. Sometimes she’d just grab me and take me somewhere and point, then drag me somewhere else until I understood. Hilarious. As trips begin to come to a close, if it’s a good one, I start to get sad. I start to miss the people I have just made friends with before I even leave. I was feeling this way while I was waiting for my ride one day. Maria was in the kitchen, probably making more food for me to eat (I’d begun giving in to her by now. She was just a grandma doing her job.) So I went in there, pulled my feet up onto that little wooden stool in the corner of her tiny kitchen and watched her. No pressure to talk. No need for anything. I just wanted to be in her kitchen. Let my presence communicate more than I could. Those were some precious minutes. No one can take them from me. I was all there. Completely undistracted. 
When I left, Maria cried. So did I. She knew she was in my heart. I don’t even know her last name. I don’t even know why she’s single and what happened to her husband. I know she has a daughter and one of the most generous spirits I’ve ever come across. I know she sacrificed to have me there. One night she had 4 of her friends and her little grandson sleeping in the room next to me while I was all alone in my own room. She didn’t hide the fact or seem embarrassed or frustrated. She pulled me in to see the floor all bedded up. Her friends laughed and their gold teeth glinted in the dull apartment light. It’s all about relationship. Every time I moved, she or her friends would offer to prepare some food for me.
Maybe one day there will be crowds of people, but I don’t really care. I actually think it would make me sad if I was reduced to interacting with crowds. And crowds are faceless (although this is arguable, you see my point, don’t you?) One is much the same as then next . Crowds are made up of individuals who I crave to understand and know - individuals are so special and unique. Individuals have stories and histories, hopes and disappointments. We can only love and be loved one a time and it seems so right to me to be able to do it that way, as much as possible, even while (especially) on an official ministry trip.
Well, I guess that’s all on the Ukraine for now although I’m barely scratching the surface. But life goes and here I am back at home facing the faces, loving the lives of the ones around me, needing to be present to this, loving and walking into freedom as God opens doors. Challenged and challenging. Wondering when I’ll have a chance to go back. . .
In all of this, I was struck by one reality: It’s all about relationships. At one point, Pastor Jim did an interview on the radio. Pretty cool. Probably thousands and thousands of people got to hear him. He came away a little befuddled. It was a unique experience. Listeners called in and he had to come up with answers really fast. But I thought about my life. It’s never really been changed by some quick snippet I heard on the radio or even by some real powerful preacher saying something to a humongous crowd of people.
My life has been most changed as a result of watching people’s everyday lives and becoming hungry, even jealous. Or, through people watching my life closely and loving me enough to contradict me and off-kilter ideas, as well as by meetings with God where he took some truth in a moment and put his power on it, and his grace and mercy, and it penetrated whatever dumbness and resistance I had, grabbed hold of whatever willingness was in me, and began to work revelation and change in me. I think speaking to 20,000 people would be cool, but when I think about it – I realize God wants personal relationship. Think of Jesus. He could have come in a time when tv’s and the internet could have broadcasted him everywhere at once. All his miracles could be documented and filed. He could have gone corporate but he didn’t. He came to average people and turned the world upside down. And now He wants to be with me.
When I think of ministry, it’s usually a formal thing. A stage, microphone, crowds, web-sites, a cool logo, newsletters, and big offerings. Maybe a tour bus. But I’m starting to get addicted to this relational thing. Can you imagine it? I flew half way around the world to spend time with our translator and talk with her for hours as we took the metro. Hours as we stood in the mall (others shopped, but neither of us were shoppers so we just stood there and talked).
Most of what I did, was have conversations with people. Hug them. Look them in the eye. See them day after day. Learn their names. Pray with them one after another.
I also think God sent me to love Maria and be loved by her. She was the grandma I stayed with. Our communication skills were ridiculously lacking. Next time, I’m going to learn some vocab before I go. Both of us had our English/Russian dictionaries, but it was so cumbersome that we’d often throw our hands up in the air and just laugh, or I’d say “I’m sorry I’m sorry” over and over in Russian. Sometimes she’d just grab me and take me somewhere and point, then drag me somewhere else until I understood. Hilarious. As trips begin to come to a close, if it’s a good one, I start to get sad. I start to miss the people I have just made friends with before I even leave. I was feeling this way while I was waiting for my ride one day. Maria was in the kitchen, probably making more food for me to eat (I’d begun giving in to her by now. She was just a grandma doing her job.) So I went in there, pulled my feet up onto that little wooden stool in the corner of her tiny kitchen and watched her. No pressure to talk. No need for anything. I just wanted to be in her kitchen. Let my presence communicate more than I could. Those were some precious minutes. No one can take them from me. I was all there. Completely undistracted. 
When I left, Maria cried. So did I. She knew she was in my heart. I don’t even know her last name. I don’t even know why she’s single and what happened to her husband. I know she has a daughter and one of the most generous spirits I’ve ever come across. I know she sacrificed to have me there. One night she had 4 of her friends and her little grandson sleeping in the room next to me while I was all alone in my own room. She didn’t hide the fact or seem embarrassed or frustrated. She pulled me in to see the floor all bedded up. Her friends laughed and their gold teeth glinted in the dull apartment light. It’s all about relationship. Every time I moved, she or her friends would offer to prepare some food for me.
Maybe one day there will be crowds of people, but I don’t really care. I actually think it would make me sad if I was reduced to interacting with crowds. And crowds are faceless (although this is arguable, you see my point, don’t you?) One is much the same as then next . Crowds are made up of individuals who I crave to understand and know - individuals are so special and unique. Individuals have stories and histories, hopes and disappointments. We can only love and be loved one a time and it seems so right to me to be able to do it that way, as much as possible, even while (especially) on an official ministry trip.
Well, I guess that’s all on the Ukraine for now although I’m barely scratching the surface. But life goes and here I am back at home facing the faces, loving the lives of the ones around me, needing to be present to this, loving and walking into freedom as God opens doors. Challenged and challenging. Wondering when I’ll have a chance to go back. . .
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