New rooms

On Sunday the church voted to move to new rooms and to accept the extra financial responsibilities that will come with the new rooms. The current rooms that the church has been renting comprise three rooms that together equal about 600 sq. feet. One room which is very narrow is used for storage and as a nursery (not an ideal situation but one that has been forced upon us).

The largest room is used as the sanctuary. It can only seat 35, packing people in tight and not giving the preacher much more space than a place to stand. Since we have the children and adults meet together for the first hour of the service and attendance has been around 40, this room has been overflowing.

The third room is used for a classroom primarily for the children. Because there is no entryway or hallway everyone who wants to use the restroom, enter or exit the building, or simply get to the storage room has to pass through this room. This can be very disruptive.

The new rooms will give us a decent storage space (every church needs storage space), a sanctuary about twice the size of our current space where we plan to seat about 60 people, a children's classroom about the same size as the current one but with a better layout, and a fourth room that can be used as a nursery. There will also be an entryway, hallway, and much better bathroom in this new place. It is quite an additional expense for the church but one which we believe is necessary to allow its ministry to people to continue to expand.

Picture of the week

To those of you who are praying for us, I extend my sincerest thanks. We all need prayer; sometimes we seemingly need more prayer than at other times. This is one of those times when we need more prayer. I have included the most recent picture of our church. As you can see, we have grown some recently for which I praise God. We are preparing to move into bigger rooms - more about that in my weekly prayer update.

God is good all the time

"When you are hurting and afflicted, you are prepared to help those who are hurting and afflicted."

Talk about running across a quote at an opportune time. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning. Kristie has been sick for over a month. It's been various things and only part of that time has she been in bed, but overall she's had some sort of illness bothering her since the end of September. Any time that Kristie is sick, it adds pressure to my schedule.

Then, we've had many breakthroughs recently in our ministry here - Bob's salvation, increased attendance on Sundays and Wednesdays, steps of growth in the lives of those to whom we minister. However, at the same time, we've been facing extra pressures. Some of these stresses have come from unexpected sources and these make them even more difficult to endure. Many of these problems I am unable to talk about which makes enduring them even more stressful.

I know from my study of God's word and the experiences God has led me through that these trials exist for our benefit, that it is God's plan to strengthen our faith and teach us patience. I also know that ultimately it is the trials of life and not the easy times that conform us to the image of Jesus and make us mature Christians.

Still, when one is actually in the middle of a trial it's hard to remember these things. It is easier to become discouraged and dismayed. So it is that while I am in the struggles I often forget the lessons that God is trying to teach me and my family.

Christians and especially missionaries have always faced difficult circumstances. James Fraser once remarked, "Refuse, however, to be discouraged, but get down on your knees at once and 'get right with God.' I have had many such experiences before, but I have made the mistake of giving way to depression instead of calmly investigating the cause of things. This time, however, the thief is not going to escape."

I have taken some time to prayerfully consider my circumstances and my response to them. I believe that I can see clearly some of the causes and can discern some of the purposes of God within my difficult circumstances.

First, as the quote I led with above states, I believe that God is trying to give me a greater heart and understanding spirit of those who are hurting.

Second, I discern God at work to purge me. In Psalm 119:67 we find, "Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now have I kept thy word." Affliction can often lead to cleansing. When times are good we are often complacent and willing to continue in the path that we are going. But hard times force us to re-examine our path and consider what God's leading truly is in our lives.

Third, we all know and recognize that when God's work is moving forward, our adversary and his minions will be there to oppose it. Even more significant, my own flesh, the old man, is not pleased when God's work is advancing. As with Elijah often our times of discouragement and sense of defeat is greatest immediately following our greatest victories.

So what am I doing to avoid discouragement and yield to the Holy Spirit. First, I am trying to listen to good music that encourages me (see II Kings 3:15). Just this morning while listening to music I was reminded of Jesus' admonition, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

Which leads to the second way I am dealing with discouraging circumstances: prayer. I was reminded that Jesus shares our burdens and knows our discouragements.

Extra time in God's word reading not only what is on my reading schedule but extra passages where I can find encouragement and strength. "I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust." There is so much encouragement to be found in God's word.

Finally, I have reached out to some who know me well and are praying for me requesting extra prayer.

God is good all the time. He has been faithful to encourage me and support me. The issue has always been whether I will receive His aid or whether I will be content to wallow in self-pity and surrender to discouragement.

Thank you all for your prayers. Continue to pray for God to encourage us and to protect us from the attacks of Satan. We know that there is victory in Jesus Christ.

Pictures of Ulan Bator

I had a chance to visit an apartment recently on the 15th floor of a building downtown. Here are some pictures of the city of Ulan Bator from a new perspective.

Life in Mongolia

Recently, a new family came to Mongolia. After studying for two months, the wife was doing her best to communicate with a Mongolian lady. The Mongolian attempted to listen and then said something like, "For studying for two months, you sure don't speak the language very well."

I would be lying to say that Mongolia is an easy place to live. There is a certain amount of extra spiritual warfare and deep struggle that occurs. Instead of being surrounded by family, friends, loved ones, missionaries sense a certain amount of isolation. No matter how well one speaks the language, one never truly becomes "Mongolian." People call us names, accuse us falsely, cheat us because we are foreigners, make fun of us, misunderstand us (intentionally or not); any normal human would respond with some kind of defense mechanism.

Different people choose different ways to protect themselves and their heart from this isolation and rejection. Some adopt an "us vs. them" mentality that allows us to be as critical of Mongolians and their culture as they are of us. "Mongolians drive wrong," or "Mongolians smell funny," or "Mongolians don't do this right." These are some common complaints that we hear.

Some missionaries withdraw from Mongolian society all together, congregating in compounds, fellowshipping with other foreigners, and visiting the expatriate hang-outs that exist in any capital city. Surrounded by a few thousand foreigners and a million Mongolians they know more foreigners than Mongolians.

Sometimes we just leave the country completely. Without God leading us away, missionaries strike out to new lands or return to the States.

Margaret Clarkson famously wrote about missionaries' experiences in her song "So Send I You."

So send I you to loneliness and longing,
With heart a-hungering for the loved and known,
Forsaking home and kindred,
Friend and dear one -
So send I you to know my love alone.

Many years ago, long before I "became a missionary" I sang that song in a church service and contemplated its bleak outlook on missions life. It was only today while looking again at that song that I came across her other verses written many years after the first verses were written.

After a life of experience and a wealth of pain (a father and mother who divorced, migraines, back trouble, and childhood arthritis), Miss Clarkson looked back and realized that her initial verses were an unbalanced reflection of the Christian life of service. She wrote several new verses to bring her song into balance.

So send I you - by grace made strong to triumph
O'er hosts of hell, o'er darkness, death, and sin,
My name to bear, and in that name to conquer
So send I you - my victory to win.

We have seen victories, we have seen defeats. We have been blessed, we have been oppressed. To those of you who pray for us I say - continue to uphold us in prayer. We need God's power to avoid the natural defense mechanisms and the victory of the Holy Spirit-filled life to minister in this place.

Annoyed by a drunk

Last night just after six, Bill Patterson and I were standing outside by our vehicles waiting for our wives. It had already turned dark, and we were passing the time profitably discussing ministry in Mongolia. I noticed that an obviously drunk man was standing several feet away from us staring at us. Often drunk people stare at foreigners so I did not think much of it.

After staring for a minute or so, the man walked up to Bill and poked him hard in the stomach. I thought to myself, What is this man doing? What he was doing was trying to pick a fight. He clenched his right hand into a fist. Bill wisely avoided being punched by reaching out and taking the man's clenched right hand as if to shake it and greeting him kindly both in English and Mongolian.

But the man wanted none of that. He continued to sway back and forth for a few seconds without doing anything as if he wondered what to do next. Bill took a step back to avoid confrontation but the drunk man stepped towards Bill again with a clenched fist. As if to confront Bill, he said in Mongolian, "Do you know what the word 'disrespect' means?" Hoping to calm the man and avert trouble, I stepped forward and put my hand gently on the man's shoulder. He hesitated a second and then grabbed my hand and thrust it away. Bill tried to talk to him. The man claimed he knew a little English and kept saying, "Two dollars." The drunk brought out his wallet and showed us it was empty repeatedly saying, "Two dollars," first looking at Bill and then towards me. Knowing that he would only spend the money on more alcohol, we politely refused.

Then he pointed to Bill and said, "One dollar," and then to me, "One dollar." We shook our heads to refuse his demand. Then he moved toward me. Bill got out his phone perhaps to call someone for help. The man started speaking Mongolian saying, "Is he going to call the police?" and laughed histrionically. Then he reached for his back pocket as if he had a knife and whipped he hand back toward me threateningly, but I could see that he had no knife.

Bill and I moved away from him again but he followed us. He said to me, "You understand Mongolian. I'll bring the police here and kill you. Do you know the word 'knife'? I'll kill you." I must admit I chuckled at his obviously silly threats. He was so drunk that a strong push would have knocked him to the ground. Besides, why show fear?

And then as abruptly as he came, he walked away. We were in a very public place and two or three dozen people must have passed us as we stood there. But no one chose to intervene except one man who walked up who looked as if he might live on the streets. The drunk waved him off and told him to go away which the man did.

I never really felt as if I was in any real danger. The greatest danger seemed to me to be to get in a fight with a drunk man and seem to those who passed by to be picking a fight with a drunk man. But God gave us grace that enabled us to avoid a confrontation. Soon after that, our wives came out and we left.

Sunday update

Kristie has been sick for almost a month now. First she had a cold and fever. The fever went away after a few days but the cough remained. Then she had a really nasty stomach virus that kept her in bed or near the toilet for a few days. After that went away the cough returned. Last week, she would feel decent during the day but in the evenings she would feel sick at her stomach and dizzy in her head, especially if she stood or sat. Lying down, she might feel only slightly sick although one night even lying down did not help.

I have been trying to help with the homeschooling but do not think that I make a very good substitute teacher. I have also been making dinner and feel better with that job. It would be nice if Kristie would feel completely better. Then we could get our family back to normal.

The turnout was good again on Sunday with 17 Mongolian adults. That is about double the adult attendance of last year. We have one new family that has been faithful the last few weeks: Byasaa and his wife Ganchimeg. They both say that they are saved; however, I am not sure what to think. Ganpurev started this week teaching them a Bible study. He and I will be working with them closely to make certain of their salvation, to see them baptized, and to make them disciples of Jesus Christ. Please pray for these and many other young Christians with whom we are working.

Funeral for Bold's sister

"It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that it the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart." Ecclesiastes 7:2

I attended the funeral for Bold's sister today. Bill went with me and was an encouragement to me and, I believe, to Bold also.

It was different than most Mongolian funerals in that there was no Buddhist monk present at the funeral. Nor had a Buddhist monk visited the family's home. The mother had refused to allow a Buddhist monk to enter her home.

We left for the funeral at 5:45. Mongolians always have very early funerals. The temperature outside was a little above zero as we stood in the early morning sun and watched the ceremonies that mark the depositing of a body and casket into the ground. My feet began to lose their feeling because I chose to wear a pair of dress shoes rather than my winter boots. Still I was glad to be there to encourage my friend during his time of mourning.

Quote of the day

"To me there is nothing more tragic or shortsighted or lacking in insight than the assumption, made by so many, that the Church herself is all right and all she has to do is to evangelize the world outside. Every revival proves clearly that men who are outside the church always become attracted when the Church herself begins to function truly as the Christian Church, and as individual Christians [should act]." - D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones

"Weep with them that weep"

I had been sitting for almost an hour, the conversation in Mongolian swirling about me. I have never been good at these kinds of things.

There was no light in the room except for the faint evening sun that was blocked by the building directly to the south. On the table in front of me sat three tall thermos flasks filled with milk tea; several plates with sliced salami and cucumbers; and a large bowl piled high with candies, dried curds called aaruul, and other small treats.

I was waiting for my friend Bold who had left before I arrived to obtain his sister's death certificate.

Bold's sister Oyungerel had surgery several months ago to completely remove a cancerous kidney. Her surgery had been followed by a series of chemotherapy treatments. As far as I knew from Bold her recovery had been slow but steady until about a month ago.

On a warm Wednesday in September, I came at my regular time to meet with Bold to work on Mongolian translation work. I found the whole house in a panic; Bold was very apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said, "I cannot meet with you today. This morning my sister suddenly discovered that she has no feeling in her right leg from her hip to her knee. We're just getting ready to take her to the hospital."

I felt awkward because I had already loaned out my jeep to a Mongolian friend to use to take his mother-in-law to the hospital to continue her cancer treatments and could not help Bold transport his sister to the hospital. Instead I began to pray and asked the church to pray.

Bold too was praying. Bold was saved about eight years ago and was left in charge of a house church when some missionaries from Germany returned home about four years ago. Our time of working on translation together has drawn us close. Sometimes instead of translating we will spend almost an entire session discussing a Biblical response to Mongolian culture or the latest news among Christians in Ulan Bator. It has been very helpful to me to have a Mongolian friend with whom I can discuss such things.

His sister Suvda is also a Christian, but the rest of his family continue to worship false gods though they respect his "religious beliefs".

Bold's pre-occupation with his sister and my parents-in-law's visit kept us from our regular meetings for the past month. But through a phone call and sneaking in visits I was able to follow his sister's condition.

The doctors came to realize that the cancer that they had thought was confined to her kidneys had already begun to spread before her surgery. Although the doctors completely removed her kidney, the already metastasized cancer was swiftly working its way into her spinal column. Its growth there caused pressure on her spinal cord which resulted in the loss of feeling first in one leg and then the other.

Because of the delicate nature of the spinal cord and the spread of the cancer, the doctors were not certain that more surgery would be successful. Besides Oyungerel did not want to go through surgery again and declined further treatment. Barring direct intervention by God, it became a matter of waiting.

I will close the curtain of privacy on the details of her decline. But the family reached a point where they needed some relief from caring night and day for Oyungerel. Someone suggested hospice care, and for two weeks she was in the kind and gentle hands of Christian people who exhibit far more grace and skill than I have.

She returned home last week. On Wednesday Bold and I met briefly and talked. She was not doing well. As a church we began to pray. Almost every day I communicated briefly with Bold telling him that we were praying.

Monday morning I received the message that she had passed away.

Though I had not ruled out God's direct intervention, I was led to pray for the salvation of Oyungerel and Bold's mother and for the comfort & peace of the Holy Spirit for Bold and Suvda. God answered one of those requests as I found out Monday from Bold that while Oyungerel was in hospice care she had told people multiple times that she had received Jesus and trusted Him.

Because the Mongolian custom is to visit the home of the deceased as soon as one can after receiving the news, I found myself at Bold's house sipping milk tea and eating the aaruul.

The Mongolians spoke their language around me sometimes addressing the whole group of almost a dozen of us, sometimes chatting more informally in little groups of three or four. Even in English I feel uncertain what to say at times of grief, and in Mongolian I am concerned that I might say the wrong thing and intensify everyone's grief. So I sat silently, speaking if spoken to and waiting for Bold to return.

Finally, the group that was there, primarily people from Bold's church, took time to pray and then left. I was left alone with Bold's mother and sister Suvda and aunt. There was some light joking as I was introduced as Jeff because before me had been another foreigner to visit also named Jeff.

Shortly after that an even larger group of people, teachers from the school where Bold's mother taught, came to visit. The room quickly filled and then began to overflow with people. The family invited me to wait in another, smaller room.

I had only been waiting a few minutes when Bold returned from his visits to the officials. He came into the room where I was and we exchanged the usual Mongolian pleasantries. He began to explain mechanically the nature of his errands even showing me the newly acquired death certificate.

I put my arm around him and said in Mongolian (even though he speaks good English), "I don't have any fancy words to say. I want to say I love you." Mongolian men do not usually cry but Bold did. We embraced, and I gave Bold the chance to recover.

"It's hard for me," he said, "being the only man in my family." His father had passed away when he was a boy, and he has no brothers. "Everyone wants me to be tough." Nothing was said for a minute or two and then his aunt came in to discuss more burial preparations.

Oyungerel's death is real; her eternity is now decided. The recent news is another painful reminder that death is all around us. We tend to try to sanitize death and its details to insulate ourselves emotionally from it. But death is real. Which makes our work here in Mongolia all the more urgent and important.