Matthew 23:27 “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness. 

I became a teenager in the late 1980's. It seemed that my family, my church, my school, and most of the people I knew were merely expressing a facade exterior compared to a disturbing interior substance. Pop music and church music seemed to further this facade through a popular medium. It seemed that I had a deep hunger for something real, no matter how bad it was. There were probably a total of five kids at my school that were into heavy metal, and through a strange series of events I ended up coming home with a cassette tape of  Ratt's Reach for the Sky. I was instantly hooked on the loud guitars, the angry lyrics, and the words that expressed something more genuine that anything I had been exposed to prior to that point in my life. So I used my high speed dubbing boom box with dual cassette to make a copy. 

Especially at the beginning of the current pandemic, I was surprised that Anthrax's Among the Living wasn't somehow the theme song. A hard hitting song, based on Stephen King's novel The Stand, about a global pandemic and an attempted takeover by an evil power structure. Possibly in addition, Schism speaks to a level of the additional current parallel racial tension. I guess much of that music has remained in varying levels of obscurity. However, thanks to the internet you can find almost all of it now. No longer trading and dubbing tapes just to hear music you would otherwise never have access to.

For a time, I identified as a Headbanger. This was certainly a cause of valid concern for my family. I guess most of our attitude was that it might be bad but at least it was real, honest, and up front. We weren't going to be hypocrites. 

There was definitely a deadly dark side to quite a bit of the music. The lyrics seemed to express the despair, darkness, and exposed hypocrisy without any hope of redemption. The only hope expressed was oftentimes in the explicit and clear language of escape through suicide. I could easily quote the lyrics to Ozzy Osbourne's suicide solution and remember writing out the lyrics to Fade to Black by Metallica on my notebook instead of taking notes. At some point I typed out the lyrics to Dyers Eve and kept it in my wallet as a suicide note. 

My parent's pleas for me to give up the music seemed to lack validity. One argument stands out among the others. The comparison was made that my sister's posters of New Kids on the Block were so much better than mine with the heavy metal bands because the boys were clean cut. This seemed the very antithesis the headbangers were standing against. 

There were two distinct events that really struck home, although both provided an inadequate solution as an alternative. The first was a Clayton King revival at a local church. He spoke of the dangers of satanism, an especially popular topic during that time. He explained how the satanists used heavy metal to proselytize. In there, the gospel was clearly presented and the hope of Christ put forward with the unmistakable power of the Holy Spirit. I had given my life to Christ several years before and been baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I understood salvation, what I needed was deliverance and discipleship. The Christ that was being preached did not represent accurately what I had experienced at church and home. 

With eyes full of tears I involuntarily walked forward during the invitation with a seeming countless sea of others who were moved by the message. I was then escorted to a back room where I was led through a scripted sinner's prayer, declared a new creation, and greeted as a new brother in Christ. This furthered my confusion. I thought I was already saved? I had been through this formally and publicly, as well as so many times silently as the preacher led the entire congregation to repeat this prayer with every head bowed and every eye closed. I believed the gospel, not the hypocrisy.

I remember walking out to the parking lot confused. What just happened and what do I do now? I will never forget the genuine and deep love I felt from my uncle, who was working in ministry, as he walked up to engage me. He suggested that I rededicate my life. I was willing to do this, but I didn't even fully know what that meant. This seemed the basic formula that was being taught in the Southern Baptist seminaries and churches following the quantifiable growth success of the revivalists from the past few decades. He would follow up with a loving visit to pray with me a few months later after I was institutionalized following my suicide attempt. What stood out then and is forever etched in my memory is his genuine love for me.   

A few months later I was invited to another revival that had the same basic theme and message. The satanists are coming for the kids through heavy metal music. This one however, touched on some of the demonic side and actual deliverance from demonic strongholds. I actually stopped listening to my music at that point and began listening to the much more accepted country western music. This pleased my friends and family, but alas most of the lyrics were also hopeless and even offered suicide as the way out.

There is so much more to this story that I'm still not comfortable sharing on a public forum. Maybe one day. I still bear a scar on my left wrist that I have spent most of my life trying to hide. Self-conscious as wrist bands are placed on me as required to enter events. After being given a fresh confidence and new coping skills, I reentered life again with some new skills that basically just allowed me to fit in better. In the country life, it was socially acceptable to deal with your problems through excessive alcohol consumption. In order to be a good Christian, you just had to go to church and pay attention during the sermon.

I was blessed at some point to find a wife that didn't exactly understand me, but loved me with a real and genuine love. Shortly after we were married we ended up in a bible study with people our age. They were not hypocrites. It seemed the first time I experienced a Christian community with people who were genuine. They loved Christ and their lives matched. I remember them breaking off into prayer groups after a study and taking prayer requests. I expressed that I wanted to live a life sold our for Christ like them. I wanted to quit drinking excessively, and stop my addiction to Copenhagen tobacco – another culturally accepted addiction. They all laid hands on me and prayed for me. It was like a stronghold in my life was broken in that moment. Life was never the same after that. 

It has been difficult to watch the recent atomic level meltdowns in the Southern Baptist Convention. The layers and layers of hypocrisy, abuse of power, sexual abuse scandals, and the cronyism used to cover them up are being revealed at increasingly exponential levels. All that stuff that has been kept undercover for so long is finally being revealed for the entire world to witness. The more amazing thing is the unrepentant attitude by many of the top leadership and perpetrators in the face of an overwhelming mountain of evidence. 

One of the best things that has been revealed as Amy and I provide counseling to hurting people is the genuineness of faith that exists out of the spotlight. So many people that we sit with in counseling have a deep and real faith. So often they have simply been beaten down by spiritual leadership. Just have more faith, pray more, read your bible more, try harder, maybe you're not saved, rebaptize, rededicate, etc... Meanwhile they have a genuine walk with the Lord that so overshadows most of the leadership they come from it's not even comparable. They're just not hiding either their sin or their salvation. It just doesn't match up with what is being preached. Some layers often just need to be peeled away so they can see their Savior clearly and receive His love and healing. 

Some of the formulas used for church growth and revenue production have a wake of destruction. One particular case stands out from a pastor friend that had most of his life falling apart around him. He had just completed a popular Christian self-help curriculum. He was at a loss because he had followed the formula and it didn't work. He asked if I thought he should try it again hoping it would work the second time.

It's been interesting as my kids are almost all grown now. They have been through various stages of music. As they introduce things to me, I now have gone back and tried to find redeeming elements in some of those heavy metal songs. Amazingly, I've found some. This is the common grace of God that His gospel permeates every corner so that men are without excuse. The sanctification of the Holy Spirit has helped my now more mature discernment to see some of the good while still rejecting the bad. I still resonate more with the fringes - kind of like NF describes in Outcast. I'm happy to be on the fringes walking among the living.

Ephesians 2:1-10 And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. 

Romans 1:13-17  I want you to know, brothers, that I have often intended to come to you (but thus far have been prevented), in order that I may reap some harvest among you as well as among the rest of the Gentiles. I am under obligation both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish. So I am eager to preach the gospel to you also who are in Rome. For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, "The righteous shall live by faith." 

Do not underestimate the effects of grief and loss. The whole being can be touched and it can be difficult to find words to understand and especially express to others. Grief can be complicated if it is compounded by multiple losses – especially if these are ambiguous losses. Ambiguous losses are those that are most difficult to express to others such as the loss of expectations. This furthers the dilemma because it seems like no one understands, and advice from others often makes things worse. 

It has been so long since I have been able to blog that the longer it went the more difficult it was to start. My blogs were harshly critiqued by the elders of the church in Ljubljana and were labeled “hopeless”. This definitely contributed to the difficulty. I'll do my best to fill in the gaps. The Lord is faithful.

Luke's wedding was amazing. It was truly like a fairy tale. He and Jenny have been great for each other, and it is wonderful to see how they work together through their own sets of moves and difficulties over the past year. The good part was that it was a joyous sendoff. It was as good as anything we could have desired as our first born went off to start his new life with his new bride. 

We have received (and continue to receive) much criticism for how close we are as a family. We seemed to have the most problems in the churches we visited even from our children's infancy because of a hesitancy to put them in the nursery, children's programs, and even our choice to home school. These choices were certainly not without their own sets of problems. However, with all the fresh sexual abuse allegations coming out now regarding a growing number of churches we have been breathing a sigh of relief over standing our ground. 

When Luke did leave, we all felt good about how much time we did spend together. I was glad for that time. I didn't even expect how the loss side would effect all of us in our family. It was even more difficult to discern because it was mixed in with other losses.

Our time in Ljubljana became marked by extremes in relationships. We had some great and growing friendships, good ministry, a growing church in depth and numbers on one hand. On the other was a growing divide between me and the elders. This would culminate in them deciding not to renew my commitment to the church in December of 2019. Right before Christmas. 

The constant criticism from the elders was difficult to bear, but it was always balanced with the reality of a real calling of God and confirmation among the congregation. Amy and I were invited by a church in the US to spend a few days in Dubrovnik to be built up. It was a wonderful few days and the focus was on the importance of rest. We were able to meet some other Balkan church leaders and share experiences.

The very next week Amy and I attended an ICC Eurasia conference. The point was to connect the church in Ljubljana with an affiliate group for accountability and partnership. We were able to meet other International Church pastors there. It was a fun group and we ended up laughing so hard we cried during one of the times of fellowship.

After we returned to Ljubljana I began to take seriously the command to rest. I scheduled a day alone with the Lord and it was awesome. He felt so close and loving and I felt Him asking, “Do you trust Me?”. That was on a Friday. That next Sunday the two remaining elders asked to meet with me after the service. They simply asked me to leave. They refused to give a full reason, follow biblical steps, or involve the congregation. They simply stated that they asked me to come so they can ask me to leave.

While praying through this, I asked the Lord as a grace to me if He would send me “to” somewhere instead of just “away” from there. My prayer was met within minutes by the ICC founder inviting me to come to Marseille. Well Lord, I guess I better go there since you were so specific in your answer.

We spent Christmas of 2019 in France. It was nice to have somewhere to go, but all of us were feeling the effects of what was happening. It was difficult for any of us to talk about.

Once we returned to Ljubljana we began the formal process of considering coming to Marseille. The situation was less than ideal, but we felt like God was sending us here. Amy and I came back by bus for a formal service where I preached and the congregation voted. That confirmed that the church wanted us here and we committed to 2 years in Marseille.

Amy and I returned to Ljubljana to begin planning. We had to travel to Vienna, Austria for our French Visas and were awarded them in record time. Then COVID-19 began changing the world. 

We made some great friends through an MMA club that I mentioned in my previous blog. The abandoned factory never got shut down so they eventually continued meeting. This was a great confidence builder for all of us (except Amy who wasn't interested). As great as MMA is there are always some hazards. The main trainer was teaching me jujitsu submissions when we both heard a pop from my chest. I'm pretty sure my rib was broken as indicated by all the presenting symptoms. What a metaphor. I left Haiti limping like Jacob, and now I was leaving Slovenia with a broken rib from literally wrestling. 

Moving in Europe is more difficult than the US under normal circumstances, but this started to seem impossible. We only needed a passenger size van to move our stuff since we continue to travel light, but one way vans were not a normal thing for Slovenia. Amy finally found one, got it booked, and then received a notice that our transaction was cancelled due to travel restrictions.

After much difficulty she found a local Slovene company that was willing to send us with their driver so he could bring the van back. They suggested we leave immediately as borders were already starting to close and the days ahead were unpredictable. Most of our planned goodbye's got shortened or didn't happen. So many tears were shared among us and our friends. Another extra perk to help us understand complicated grief experientially.

We drove through the night holding our breath with each border crossing. The driver was great. Very professional and committed. He spoke little because his English was limited and we only knew a few words and phrases in Slovene. We basically made a horseshoe through a northern route through Austria, Germany, and then down into France. We couldn't go through Italy due to quarantines and Switzerland had potential problems also. The driver knew some small border crossing into France from Germany that wasn't even guarded. It was literally a small wooden bridge across a river surrounded by farms. 

We all breathed a sigh of relief once we crossed into France. The driver found a gas station and we all slept for a while. We entered into Sanary sur mer in the late morning and unpacked. The driver didn't waste any time heading back to Slovenia so he wouldn't get stuck in France. We kept up with him as he made his way. He went directly to Germany and then got a hotel where he rested a couple of days. He didn't have any problems getting back into Slovenia, but border crossings through Austria and Slovenia both had extensive wait times. 

We had planned to stay in the ICC office in Sanary only for a week or two until we found an apartment in Marseille. The official quarantine began the day after we arrived so this turned into 2 months. This was pretty difficult on all of us. We didn't really want to leave Slovenia and we didn't really want to be in France. Now we were all trapped in an office for an indefinite period of time.

Of course there is always the bright side. It was nice to have a place to go and southern France was much warmer and sunnier than the winter snows we left behind us in Slovenia. However, the sunny days were confined to a small gravel yard when we were only a few hundred meters from the coast. Just out of reach.

In May things finally started opening up. We were able to find an apartment through some relationship connections. It was literally our only choice available. We took it sight unseen.

The apartment turned out to be great. It was in a perfect location close to public transportation, access to a really nice natural area, and close to the church. The apartment itself is very accommodating and a much better place to be quarantined than the office. 

All throughout the quarantine we held services online. Lance was invaluable in his assistance to us for the technical side. When we moved to Marseille we were able to figure out open air services as the warm summer days had arrived.

I started running in the natural area near us. The long gravel roads and open views were healing. I hadn't ran long distances very often, but this area was perfect for it. I started upping my mileage. 

Right after I started running some longer distances, a Kenyan marathon runner visited the church service. We got to be friends and he said he would love to run with me on his “recovery” days. He was encouraging me to continue running the longer distances. It turned out that my body really began to feel better by running the longer distances than running shorter ones. I started to really think about the spiritual aspects of this.

It seems that nothing good lasts for long. It was just as I was getting into a good running routine that all of the parks began to close because of increased fire danger. I was back to being stuck again. This really hit me hard and I ended up sleeping every free moment I had for the next couple of months. It seemed like everything finally caught up with me.

One of the requests by the church in my letter of call was that I would continue my education. After much prayer and debate I settled on Liberty University to complete a degree program in Psychology with a focus in Crisis Counseling. Not having an accredited degree has continued to surface as a source to not be taken seriously by those who do have some sort of degree. There are many reasons why I have waited so long. Many of them have to do with problems inside the institutions issuing the degree that it seemed difficult to find one that wasn't problematic.

The day after I paid my tuition the president, Jerry Falwell Jr., posted a picture of himself with his pants unzipped. The day after I signed up for my first classes all of the scandals started to come out in major news platforms. This was definitely depressing. After waiting so long to go back to an accredited institution and paying out of pocket since my GI bill benefits had expired. Now my financial sacrifice was going to pay for a $10 million severance to someone who seemed the opposite of a “champion for Christ”. I also had to reckon that my salary is paid by my support base. 

I considered quitting at that moment. I wrote a letter to my professors explaining how I felt. They encouraged me to continue and look for evidence of God at work. It does seem some momentum is happening and a forensic organization is currently at work to unearth the problems. I pray that the Lord will bring to light all that needs to be seen. On the good side, the classes and professors have been wonderful. They have truly contributed to my growth in my relationship with the Lord. 

I guess I didn't realize how much I missed Luke until he and Jenny visited during the summer. It was such a joy to be reunited. All of us were laughing and talking. It was during the time of reunion that I realized how much of a void it was without him. It is wonderful though to see him and Jenny together. Amy would always tell Luke that some of his ways would never be acceptable to a wife. However, Luke seemed to find one that does all those things too. Abby and Anna call Jenny the girl version of Luke. 

With a short ease in travel restrictions we had several friends from Slovenia come to visit. It was amazing to see all of them. Another reminder of how much we missed them came with the restoration of joy by seeing them again.

It wasn't long after they left that COVID-19 cases began to rise and France was threatening another quarantine. Curfews began and then back to full blown quarantine with all movement severely restricted. In all we spent nearly 4 months of 2020 in full quarantine conditions. 

Just before Christmas things let up a little. Amy, Abby, and Anna traveled to Paris to help Luke and Jenny move to Bordeaux where Luke was able to find work. Abby, Anna, and Lance were able to travel by train to spend New Year's with them in Bordeaux.

Things have been difficult for everyone this year. It was certainly difficult to see the political unrest in the US this past year. It was even more difficult to see the recent protesters breaking into the Capitol building. Using the name of Christ as a means to advance political power has certainly hurt the witness of American Christians on the field as those we are ministering to wonder if we are all like that. What is Christianity? Is this what it means to be a Christian? Distrust (with good reason) builds among those Christians in the countries we are working in. Are we here to advance to cause of Christ or to advance American Nationalism with the name of Christ attached? 

The one thing I know clearly is that God brought us to Marseille for the moment. We were able to work with some students in need of counseling, and it is clear that God used us specifically to help them. We were able to walk with them for a time through some difficulties. They have now returned to their country of origin and seem to have found some counseling services that will give them the help they need on the next leg of their journey.

Hopefully I will be able to keep up with the blogs a little better in the future. Even with all of the hardship, I feel confident about the future because the Lord is leading. He is near to me and never lets me go.

Psalm 34:18  The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.

In Christ,
Laramie

​Job 41:1-8   "Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook or press down his tongue with a cord?  2 Can you put a rope in his nose or pierce his jaw with a hook?  3 Will he make many pleas to you? Will he speak to you soft words?  4 Will he make a covenant with you to take him for your servant forever?  5 Will you play with him as with a bird, or will you put him on a leash for your girls?  6 Will traders bargain over him? Will they divide him up among the merchants?  7 Can you fill his skin with harpoons or his head with fishing spears?  8 Lay your hands on him; remember the battle- you will not do it again! 

For those of us who have spent much time at sea, we know that endless mystery waits beneath the surface of even the calmest waters.  Once you have survived an intense storm, there is always the anticipation of the next.  As you float above the surface, countless fathoms of giant sea creatures battle tirelessly beneath in a constant struggle of life and death.  There are a few places in scripture that give us a glimpse of the most fierce of all time – Leviathan.  

The Lord reminds Job that mere flesh and blood are no match for this savage creature of the deep.  If you were to get him to the surface and survive, you would never try it again.  However, our struggle is not against flesh and blood, and we do not wage war the way the world does.  As much as this ancient dragon roars, he is a defeated enemy.

Psalm 74:12-14  12 Yet God my King is from of old, working salvation in the midst of the earth.  13 You divided the sea by your might; you broke the heads of the sea monsters on the waters.  14 You crushed the heads of Leviathan; you gave him as food for the creatures of the wilderness. 

If we are content enough to ride the surface, maybe he will even leave us alone.  We are no threat to him.  Meanwhile those around us are being devoured.  If we go after him we will be in for a fight we will not forget.  Our God calls us into this battle, gives us the privilege to participate as a warrior, and assures us victory at the end of the war.

Finding freedom in Christ from demonic strongholds allows us to help others find that freedom also.  Over time through the power of the Holy Spirit we can weaken the influence dark powers attempt to gain over us, and eventually crush them.  This doesn't often happen easily, and they always seem to raise their head in other areas like the many heads of Leviathan.  Interpersonal struggles, nightmares, sleeplessness, and strange accidents all seem to be part of the battle.

A few months ago Amy passed out on the bus.  She said she woke up to strangers standing over her and helped her to get off at the bus stop.  Abby and Anna were there and used Amy's phone to call me.  Amy went to the doctor and everything checked out okay, but the whole incident was pretty scary.

Our entire neighborhood spent months under road construction.  During this time we climbed in and out of holes, scaled around heavy equipment, and clung to shrubbery as we navigated the precarious conditions.  Our neighbors who have cars were not able to park at their house during this period, and all of us endured together.  I guess sometimes difficulty helps normal times seem easier.  The grueling walk up our hill seems much easier now with a normal road surface and free of obstacles.  

One of the other missionaries here started taking mixed martial arts classes and told me about it.  Our family was interested so we went to check it out.  It was actually great and the people teaching the class were very kind and patient.  The classes were offered for free because it was a club that just met to help each other train.  The problem was that it was meeting in an abandoned warehouse that was a squatter settlement.  That's why it was free.

The fact that I'm a pastor of an International Church automatically opens the door for great spiritual conversations.  Obviously I'm not from here so one of the first questions I get asked is why I'm here.  Once I tell people they seem to open up immediately and want to talk about spiritual things.  Seems like a normal connection.  If I find out someone does a particular job I usually ask them questions about it as a way to connect.  

We went to the club for a couple of months before the main trainer decided to ask questions.  We had a great conversation where he shared his beliefs with me and asked about mine.  I was able to share the gospel clearly with him and the others there.  His response was “so it is deep.”  Yep.  Deep.

After that conversation we went back a couple more times only to find that no one was there.  Shortly after this we discovered all the squatters were being evicted.  They aren't going quietly and things appear that they will escalate over time before real force is brought in.  Once this happened we didn't go back anymore.  Every time I pass by there now there are signs of struggle along with graffiti, and now a flag hanging in a window that says “Respect Existence or Expect Resistance”.  I have learned that any opportunity to share the gospel on such an intimate level is a privilege.  The problem is that Leviathan hates it.

Being a part of an international community brings insight difficult to experience in other contexts.  There is a German guy that is a part of our church that I have had the privilege of getting to know well.  He is a wonderful man and a joy to be around.  We went on a bike ride together on or around the D-Day anniversary.  He is a serious student of history, a deep thinker, and sees things through a powerful Christ-like lens.  

As we were discussing the events of D-Day we were able to personalize it with each other.  If we had been alive during this time period it is quite likely that we could have faced each other fighting to the death.  I could have been drafted, and he conscripted both as Christians.  As I looked across the table at my brother whom I love dearly I didn't even know how to make sense of this. 

Living life without a car has actually been freeing.  The German guy and I have been on a couple of rides together, but it seems that mostly I'm by myself on these rides.  Once out of the city there is so much to explore here.  It only takes a short time to find a place that is lonely and quiet.  It is during these times that I'm able to pray, reflect, and be recharged by my Father in heaven.  

Amy seems to have mixed feelings about living life without a car.  All of the negatives are very valid, but the most difficult being getting groceries.  This changed recently when one of the local supermarkets started offering free delivery.  Who would have thought that grocery delivery could bring so much joy to my wife.  I guess its just the small things sometimes.  

I have always loved to read, but couldn't bring my library with me here due to space and weight limitations.  I have countless books that I can access electronically and this is helpful.  However, it is just not the same as holding a book in my hand.  A family that was visiting from Canada for a month gave me a book as a gift upon leaving.  The book is Dare to Lead by Brené Brown.  The book is great, encouraging, and insightful – but the fact that it is an actual paper book helps so much to get into it.  Even though no content is changed through electronic copies, it seems that something is lost in intimacy.  

Luke will be married in just a few days. This is a huge life milestone for our whole family.  Our first son will be leaving us to start a new family.  Even this has brought much resistance and they have experienced it personally.  The reality of a culture that doesn't value Godly living surfaced even in ridicules from doctors on their choice to stay pure before marriage.  I know that God will bless them beyond all this as they start their new life together putting Him first.

As head after head is raised and cut from the great beast of the deep, we can be assured that we are more than conquerors because Christ has defeated him for us.  We now have the privilege to participate as the battles play out leading to the final victory when the war will finally be over.

Isaiah 27:1   In that day the LORD with his hard and great and strong sword will punish Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan the twisting serpent, and he will slay the dragon that is in the sea. 

​2 Corinthians 4:6-9  6 For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.  7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.  8 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair;  9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde gives a detailed look at vanity and its destructive effects.  The desire to save face, to look perfect, and to still continue in sin is the attempt of every believer and religious system that would hide sin instead of confessing and repenting.  All of us are guilty of this at times, but some reject the conviction of the Holy Spirit leading to a seared conscience.  Wilde's novel tells the story of a young man who made a deal with the devil to have a portrait of himself bear the effects of his sin while his body remained untouched.  Over time the painting became more grotesque with each sin until it was completely devoid of any semblance to its original projection.  Finally the weight became too much to bear.  In an attempt to destroy the painting, Dorian stabbed it and the spell was reversed.  The painting returned back to the original. Dorian himself took on the form of the portrait, and died with the full effects of his sins.  

Like the portrait in the novel, our hidden sins always surface somewhere.  If they are confessed and entrusted to Christ, then the penalty finds rest at the cross.  If they are hidden then they surface in all manner of maladaptive, destructive means.  For ministers and missionaries it seems that the portrait of projection so often becomes our children.  We may be able to hide from the church or our people group, but our children see the fullness of our hypocrisy.  They begin to manifest behaviors in public that we only reveal to them in private.  

One of the biggest eye openers for me personally was during a difficult time in Haiti.  During a family discussion, one of our kids explained that everything was almost bearable if Amy and I were not arguing.  However, when Amy and I were arguing everything became unbearable.  That difficult word spoken was a wake up call I needed to hear.

M. Scott Peck says this in his book People of the Lie - 
Whenever a child is brought for psychiatric treatment, it is customary to refer to her or him as the “identified patient.” By this term we psychotherapists mean that the parents—or other identifiers—have labeled the child as a patient—namely, someone who has something wrong and is in need of treatment. The reason we use the term is that we have learned to become skeptical of the validity of this identification process. More often than not, as we proceed with the evaluation of the problem, we discover that the source of the problem lies not in the child but rather in his or her parents, family, school, or society. Put most simply, we usually find that the child is not as sick as its parents. Although the parents have identified the child as the one requiring correction, it is usually they, the identifiers, who are themselves most in need of correction. They are the ones who should be the patients.

If we don't have kids, then this attempted cover up manifests in the destruction of those we seek to minister to as we attempt to meet our own needs through them.  The only healthy way we can minister to others is out of a fruitful personal relationship with our Lord.  This requires us to be laid bare before him and stripped of all pretense.  If this is not true of us, then we will only lay the weight of our own burdens on others.

All of the scandals that continue to surface are heartbreaking, but not surprising.  In the mission world New Tribes attempted to house their children with other missionaries so the adults could be free to “minister” to the lost and unreached.  This allowed the children to be vulnerable to those who sought to prey on them.  Of course this was all covered up so that face could be saved.  The sheer magnitude of allegations surfacing now in the American churches are overwhelming.  Worse than the acts themselves is the attempts to cover the sin where it was allowed to grow like a cancer until it became too large to hide anymore.    

However, when we do bring our own weakness made perfect in the strength of Christ it becomes contagious.  Where we can confess our sins to one another and encourage each other in spiritual growth through love we find health.  The picture is not pretty though.  It looks like a mess.  The good news is that we can take this mess to the cross where it belongs devoid of any pretense.  Christ makes beauty from ashes.

There are some things here that are difficult to find.  Over the counter drugs are mostly non-existent.  You must be prescribed everything you need by a doctor.  The fruit of socialized health care.  

Shopping continues to be a unique challenge.  Six people with backpacks can carry a lot of stuff, but you have to coordinate the effort like a special ops mission - including a contingency plan and exit strategy.  Inclement weather adds a further excitement or frustration depending on the unique personal perspective of the person carrying out the mission.  We also have to take into consideration our small fridge and cabinet space. 

The brokenness here continues to manifest as time passes.  We have began to offer biblical counseling.  This has helped to show us what lies beneath the beautiful exterior architecture.  We got some skateboards and started skating again.  This has been helpful for my continued mental health.  The same types of crowds seem to gather here as in other parts of the world.  You can smell the weed burning from a distance.  One of my kids always provides a famous Shrek quote as the first whiffs become evident upon approach “Brimstone, we must be getting close.”  Intravenous seem to be the preferred method of delivery, and cocaine seems to be the preferred drug.  Open preparation, injection, and discard are commonplace.  Strewn needles lay here and there requiring an extra level of caution. 

Euthanasia seems to be a popular choice to escape the pain of a life devoid of Christ.  Legal in Italy and requiring a series of requirements, it is encouraged for those experiencing suffering.  What hope is there if we have only evolved from a primordial soup only to return to nothing?  Only hope of eternity in our fully restored image of God in Christ is there fulfillment of joy in temporal life. 

The spiritual battle continues to rage around us as we bring Pust to a conclusion.  A pagan celebration to scare away winter.  Lots of people in Halloween style costumes and specifically guys dressed up with horns and sheepskins act out this historic event.  There always seem to be the heaviest weight of spiritual darkness during these types of things.

It is truly a privilege to pastor the International Church.  There is much love and realness among the believers here.  To get this many believers together from so many parts of the world to love each other and share the love of Christ is truly a miracle.  I thank God daily for this gift during this time in my life.
I have began to recognize that evangelism divorced from a healthy local church is a futile effort.  However, the love of a healthy church bearing fruit in a community can be earth shattering.

In Christ,
Laramie

John 13:34-35  34 A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.  35 By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." 

Where you find love, there is the church.  Where there is no love, the church is not there either.  We are not free to make up our own definition of love.  God Himself is love and must be present and glorified in His truth as He describes Himself to us through His revealed word to us.  He has given us specific ways to recognize what true love is.  

1 Corinthians 13:4-8  4 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant  5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;  6 it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.  7 Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  8 Love never ends. 

Those that seek power through manipulation redefine love so that their prey will submit to something different.  Something that feeds the desires of the predator and leaves the vulnerable weak and drained, instead of built up.  All the recent news headings about sexual abuse among the Independent Fundamental Churches, allegations within the IMB, and seminaries are overwhelming.  Even more difficult than the abuse itself has been the cover ups that have allowed it to continue.  This is not the church of our living Savior.  

Trust is not blind and does not ignore warning signs, but rather is earned over time through a relationship bearing the fruit of the Spirit.

John 2:23-25  23 Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, many believed in his name when they saw the signs that he was doing.  24 But Jesus on his part did not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people  25 and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man. 

I came to the conclusion a long time ago that I'm not going to be able to please everyone.  The crowd is fickle and subject to change as public opinion changes.  We have been judged pretty harshly for many of our decisions regarding how we live and choose to bring up our children. Some people believe they have been exposed to too much, and some that they have been sheltered.   As our children grow and are now becoming adults, I rest easier daily knowing that our consciences are captive to the word of God, and not the changing and contradictory opinions of others who often do not have fruit in their own lives or the lives of their children.  

Amy accompanies Abby and Anna to school here on the bus.  We have been assured that Slovenia is a safe country and we don't have to worry.  However the stories of some of the kids at the school shed light on a different story.  One of the girl's classmates was a victim of an attempted mugging, but he fought back and was able to escape.  He went to the police and they took it very seriously seeking to find out what happened and bring the attackers to justice.  A female classmate of theirs was subject to sexual harassment by the bus driver and one of the passengers on the public bus as she traveled alone.  The stories just show that Ljubljana is a normal city, and normal healthy precautions need to be observed.  Our kids have a pretty keen sense of awareness regarding their surroundings because they have seen humanity at its worst, and know what lies beneath a beautiful veneer. 

On the other side of the coin in recent news has been music artists avoiding calling lifestyle choices and practices forbidden by scripture for the sin that they are.  This is not love either.  This doesn't represent the truth or the God of love that gave us His word so that we could know truth from lies.  The truth must be spoken in love, but it must be spoken.  We are not free to define our own terms.

The spiritual battle is just as real here as anywhere, even though it is shrouded in refined European culture that can be disarming.  The good news is that the relative safety has offered the opportunity for us all to come out of our shell and heal from the dramatic intensity of the last few years.  We are all growing in Christ and also closer together as a family.  Emotions are much more level and laughter comes easier than it has for a long time.

There are certainly comforts here that don't exist in many parts of the world, and I thank God for them drawing strength for the battle.  The culture shock is fairly mild and of a different kind than I've experienced before.  When shopping for food, clothes, or other necessities the abundance of choices is overwhelming and often exhausting because we are learning what's available while seeking what we need.  Thank God for Google translate and good internet!  I had kind of an intense day after some bad dreams and was feeling overwhelmed.  I looked up to see the Golden Arches and decided to go in for some comfort food.  It is really great how they have managed to make a Big Mac taste like a Big Mac no matter where you are in the world.  

One of the other missionaries allowed me to borrow his van while he and his family were in the United States so I could see what it was like to drive in Ljubljana.  I tried different routes, compared parking prices, driving times, gas prices, and guesstimated maintenance costs  to biking and bus.  I was fairly decided that I didn't want to have a car here already, but then got stuck in complete gridlock one morning and crept along a distance of 3 KM that took nearly an hour and a half.  Floods of feelings and memories of countless hours sitting vulnerable in Haitian gridlock came rushing back convincing me that bikes and public transportation were much more appealing than vehicle ownership. 

Parking is a premium in Ljubljana, and if you are blessed enough to find a space you are going to have to pay for it.  Biking and walking seem to provide such a sense of freedom here compared to having a vehicle.  For residents, we have been able to purchase a bus pass that is one price for the entire month.  We'll try this car-less lifestyle for a while and see what happens.  For now it feels like Mel Gibson portraying William Wallace yelling “FREEDOM!”.  

The bike lanes seem like they are everywhere and will take you to any destination, until you get on a bike and try to follow them.  This becomes an adventure all in itself as bike lanes end abruptly with a sign that says no bikes allowed.  Normally there is an alternate route, but they are not ideal and could take much longer than a direct route.  In this case the locals just take the direct route and ignore the signs.  I guess this is a case where following a rule too strictly that doesn't make sense and is not enforced would not provide much advantage.  The way around this would be just to walk the bike in these areas and you can easily follow the rule and take the route, but most people just keep riding slowly. 

Lots of people ride bikes and walk regardless of the weather.  Seems like a good plan to me.  When the weather is just too bad, the bus provides a great option.  Everyone seems to agree and the bus on those days can get quite crowded during peak travel times.  This all is not without order, though.  There are the “bus police”.  

They are uniformed officers of the law and seem to be the same two guys that spend their days and evenings riding the buses and keeping order.  They come on board together. One has a machine to check the validity of your bus pass, and the other with a very visible set of handcuffs for the purpose of restraining unruly offenders.  Bosco is allowed on the bus, but must have a muzzle.  The bus police have looked intensely at his muzzle, but move on in seeming approval.  Bosco has been such a wonderful conversation starter as Slovenians love dogs and freely bring them everywhere.

Christmas in Ljubljana was an interesting experience.  We decided to head to the city center for the annual lighting of the Christmas tree.  There was a choir singing and a countdown to turn the lights on. We got there a little early and made our way right next to the tree thinking we had found the best spot.  The spot was wonderful for the actual ceremony, but then we became stuck in an endless sea of humanity that made the gridlock on the road look like an open expanse of empty plain.  I have been in  lots of crowds, but this one surpassed them all as we crept along trying to escape the massive populace and break once more into a sense of individuality.  Sometimes we were carried slowly along at the will of the crowd, other times we were crushed making even taking a breath become a cherished grace, other times we just stood not moving and wondering if we would be stuck for the rest of our days.  Finally we escaped the crushing mob and vowed to avoid the city center in case of another large event.

Amid the quaint coffee shops and cobblestone streets lurk an era reminiscent of subjugation to tyranny. At times it is manifest in graffiti such as “phones tapped!” or “better dead than red!”.  We had a guest speaker talk to our church describing his specific area of Slovenia as a valley of dry bones.  Not only spiritually, but physically.  After World War II there were mass killings in his area and the mass graves still exist on the outskirts of the city as a reminder that all is not well.  The local populace still bears the marks of the traumatic events.  Even though Slovenia was spared the most horrific pieces of the Yugoslavian breakup, a darkness still flows that can be felt.

I guess any big city anywhere can have interesting things that manifest from time to time that seem completely random and disrupt the thought processes of witnesses.  I was eating a local Balkan food known as bürek, and observing people passing by when I heard a sound like a lawnmower.  I looked up to see a sight that took me several moments to process.  There was a disabled man navigating an electric wheelchair down the bike lane.  The wheelchair was not powered by the intended battery pack, instead the necessary electricity was provided by a small generator strapped to the back spewing black smoke from the exhaust.  The power source, while adequate, was not consistent, and caused the forward motion to be sporadic as the man sputtered forward in lurches and slightly uncontrolled jerking from side to side. 

Being so immersed into urban life, it is difficult to imagine the wildlife that inhabits the surrounding 
countryside.  The moment the city ends, the countryside and forests begin.  My neighbor was explaining to me bears and wolves inhabit the very visible hills that can easily be observed in the distance.  One of the school teachers hails from the Netherlands, but has landed here in Slovenia.  There is a bear research project in the hills near her home, and she carries a very large scar as a reminder of the time she was attacked by a lynx.  She remains indebted to her dog for escaping with her life.  Good thing Slovenia sells and allows the carry of pepper spray.

It is great to see how God has gifted our kids individually in areas that are so vastly different than us as parents.  Luke has really enjoyed getting to know the fashion community here, and the Lord has opened so many conversations for him to be able to share the gospel through the connections he is making.  It never ceases to amaze me how God will use the most unlikely things to bring glory to His name.

One of the best parts of International Church is the mid week bible study.  We meet at the home of one of the members.  They are so hospitable and such a spirit of love and peace exist in their home as they share hospitality with regulars as well as visitors.  The discussions are always deep, edifying, and meaningful.  I always leave feeling loved and built up.  This week after bible study we missed our regular bus and had to take an unfamiliar one to the center to catch the bus to our house.  Lance tried to tell us which stop to get off, but I ignored him and ended up having to walk quite a ways.  Moral of the story – Lance is the bus expert – always listen to Lance in all matters bus related.  As we were walking the distance to our next bus stop we saw our bus going there ahead of us.  In a moment of defeated disappointment we stopped walking as we watched it pass by knowing the next bus was 30 minutes away.  As we spent a moment looking at each other, Luke just put on a big grin and took off running.  The rest of the kids followed suit while Amy and I trailed behind.  She was moving so slowly in her large winter jacket that she has dubbed her “sleeping bag”.  It is very warm, but does not lend itself to running after a bus.  

Luke made it there first, then Lance got stuck in the doors causing the bus driver to pause and wait for the twins.  Amy was laughing so hard and running so slowly.  I was dragging her by the hand as the feeling like one of those bad dreams where your legs won't move as you try to run passed in waves over me.  By the grace of God we made it on the bus with the kids.  We were laughing so hard and I tried to be respectful by offering a “hvala lepa” “thank you very much” to the bus driver.  He just stared back un-amused and drove away. 

The transient nature of life continues here as I write this blog post from a Slovenian coffee shop.  We rent the space  for the International Church service from a Slovenian church which means it is not always available for use.  There is a sense of true discipleship in the transiency, but also a longing for some permanent space and consistency.  That is a major reason why I'm here, so prayerfully we can look forward to some more established space and schedules as the Lord leads.

At times I don't dream when I sleep.  At other times I have good dreams.  Sometimes all of the family seems to have dreams that offer insight into the spiritual.  We've come to realize that may times certain things can manifest in our dreams such as spiritual attack, blessing, or warning.  It's not always so clear, what the specific meaning is, but just that we need to be aware.  We have been having dreams lately and they seem to be warning us about something.  So we could definitely use the prayers of the saints.

God continues to confirm his calling on us here as we have now all received our resident permits.  We received these in record time and the church members that we are closest with recognize this as the favor of God.  In this world we will have trouble, but our Savior told us to take heart because He has overcome the wold.  We are soldiers, may we fight well in the name of our Lord for the battle belongs to Him.

In Christ,
Laramie

Revelation 21:5  And he who was seated on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new."

It is difficult to feel at ease anywhere anymore in a way that would make as if I am settling in.  Maybe there is a sense that we are supposed to feel this way and continue with our focus toward heaven.  It certainly helps to clarify focus on Christ and His Kingdom.  

The craziest things seem to happen at the craziest times.  All of my roaming the earth has brought friends and acquaintances from all over.  It makes it even crazier when we see each other after years or decades outside of our original context.  A few weeks before we were going to head out for Slovenia, I was “friended” on Facebook by an old friend from my last horrible semester in a formal college setting.  We began chatting and it just so happened that he is working at the Atlanta airport where he has been the past few years.  So of course we just decided we would meet up and hang out while we were waiting on our flight out of the country and onto our new life.  

It was great to see him and catch up from the past two decades.  The last time I had seen him was at Amy and I's wedding – 24 years ago.  Meanwhile we continued to have issues bringing our Boston Terrier with us.  Amy had been on the phone for countless hours trying to resolve any issues ahead of time, but was constantly met with inconsistency and non-committal responses from the airline.  She had hard copies of all our paperwork and an email trail to prove she had done her due diligence so we could be accompanied by our four legged companion.  As we were chatting with my long lost friend from college, Amy's name was called out over the intercom.  Of course the airline didn't have the paperwork they needed to fly our dog.

The airline worker claimed the office that makes the decisions was closed for the day and she wasn't sure what to do.  Really – a modern well-known airline that Amy had worked with tirelessly to make sure all issues were resolved was about to not allow us to fly out with our dog to our new life.  At least my old college buddy was there in case we had to leave the dog behind.  I could only imagine the amounts of inconsolable tears that were about to be shed by the female side of our family if it actually came down to that.  

By God's grace the airline worker just took it upon herself to make a decision.  She came over to where the dog was sleeping, took a look at him, and said he could go.  She never looked at the paperwork we had – including all the clearance paperwork from the vet – and we never had to show anyone else.  How bizarre. We brought our dog to a foreign country and were never questioned by anyone else.  We had all the proper paperwork, but when the airline found they didn't have it they basically just let us through.  Inconsolable tears avoided indefinitely.  

On the way to the plane the airline decided to start confiscating everyone's carry-on bag so they could sentence them to infinite exile in airplane lost baggage land by force “gate checking” them for our convenience.  Of  course everyone knows that a gate checked bag is as good as lost forever.  The girls and I got stopped and were forced to relinquish our careful guardianship over to the Samsonite gorillas also known as airport baggage handlers.  My daughters looked at me with fear hoping their dad  would provide some reassurance because they didn't understand what was happening.  I should have offered them a firm resolve and reassurance.  But I didn't.  Instead all I could muster in the moment was some flippant sarcastic cynicism.  I said something like, “Say goodbye to your bag because this is the last time you'll ever see it again”.  It is a humbling thing to have to be corrected by your 14 year old daughter when she looks at you with wisdom surpassing yours and replies, “Dad, that's not helpful.”  Oh how painful to have to apologize and recant of the cynicism.  

Amy was pretty shot emotionally and physically by the time we boarded the plane.  At least she had the dog to provide some emotional support and take up the slack for me.  Amy, I, and Luke were all seated together on a row with a girl from Denmark.  Amy was just settling in for a good nap when our new friend from Denmark felt like chatting.  It turns out that she is really into spiritual stuff and very interested in learning about our religion because I am a minister.  Obviously God had different plans in mind than sleep. 

She was genuinely interested in hearing the message of sin and redemption through the blood of Christ shed on the cross.  She said she had never heard it explained so well before and was very thankful for the time we shared with her.  I think the conversation gave Amy some supernatural strength.  It was as if God was confirming his call on us immediately even as we journeyed.  

Paris customs went pretty smoothly as we basically all but disrobed with hordes of Chinese travelers.  At least we could speak enough French to make the process go smoothly.  They never looked at our paperwork for the dog and just kind of waved him through.  We were told in Atlanta that there was no guarantee that Paris would allow him to continue.  

All my kids are seasoned travelers now.  They know where to camp out and how to get into any open WiFi hot spot.  Amy and I tried in vain to connect while our kids effortlessly surfed the web and updated social media.  Finally our flight was on the tarmac and we walked trough freezing drizzle to board the plane.  

When we arrived in Ljubljana I waited in vain at the luggage carousel with little expectation of seeing anything at all, let alone all of our baggage.  I was not to be disappointed.  The gate checked bags actually showed up, but had definitely failed the gorilla test.  The zippers were broken and the contents were expanding out like a spring loaded jack-in-the-box.  I looked over at the girls and they shot looks right back forcing me to keep my unbridled cynicism to myself.  The fastener on one of our duffel bags was broken, and the airport workers had actually taken the time to tie it back together with some of the rope that was inside the bag.  In the end only two bags were still caught in the Bermuda triangle- like vortex of lost airport baggage.  

The most surprising thing was the amazing kindness and help of the Slovenian airport workers.  The airport is small and the young gentleman that worked on my claim was both kind and professional.  He assured me that we would have our bags within two days.  He was right.  They actually delivered them right to our door!  Praise the Lord.  It was kind of a big deal because the only things we brought with us were what we could carry on the plane.  1 check in bag less than fifty pounds, one carry on, and one personal item.  We were ready to start out our new life de-cluttered.  

The dog wasn't even considered in all this and walked out of the airport like he owned the place.  Oh how good it was to see some of our new church family waiting outside in the inclement weather to bring us to our new home.  They had a sign up at the house to welcome us.  Sarah and Todd brought us some towels and sheets so that we could settle right in.  Ram and Sally brought us a pot of stew so that we could start off our first night with a good hot meal.  We realized pretty quick that we were going to need some utensils as we broke bread, gave thanks, and then used the broken bread to sop up the soup because it was the closest thing we could find to a utensil.

Jet lag is a difficult thing, and it becomes increasingly more difficult the older you get.  Our kids sacked out with no problem.  Amy and I tossed and turned for a few days before finally succumbing to overwhelming exhaustion enough to sleep through the night.  The first morning we woke to an interesting phenomenon.  Instead of hot water coming from our pipes, we had enough powerful steam that we could have simulated the meltdowns at 3 Mile Island or Chernobyl.  If you tried to turn on the hot water the steam would come out so powerfully and forcefully that the entire room would become engulfed in steam so much that you could quickly get lost in the fog.

I tried contacting the guy that we were renting the house from, but didn't get an immediate answer.  I went downstairs to check out the situation and opened a basement door to what resembled the engine room of a warship.  Thankfully I had been on a warship, so maybe I could figure this out.  There were three “bojlers” and it was easy to tell which one was ours.  They all had a gauge on the front and two of the gauges were showing normal.  One gauge was pegged way beyond the red zone and the “bojler” was leaking from the bottom.  I guessed correctly that this one was ours.

The guy we are renting the house from called and walked me through shutting off the “bojler”.  It was pretty easy because as soon as I turned the knob that was dripping water a big blue spark shot out, a loud bang erupted, and the breaker tripped.  For the next few days we regressed to Haiti life and boiled water on the stove for baths.  In the end it finally got fixed and we resumed somewhat of a normal first world existence.

Todd was gracious and let us borrow his van for the first week we were here.  We used the time to find and purchase bikes in addition to bus passes.  The bikes are really nice because there are bike paths and trails everywhere.  The only problem with bikes is the weather is pretty inclement this time of year.  I have pretty much made up my mind that if its not raining or too much snow I will bike.  Otherwise I'll take the bus.  That's what many of the locals seem to be doing so I'll see how it goes.  Its kind of nice to have everyone able to get where they need to go independently of each other and without the need of a car.

Just when we think we've got the bus system figured out a new minor problem arises.  We had gotten ready for church, went down to the bus stop to catch the bus, and realized that the schedule for Sunday is different than the rest of the week.  Not wanting to be late, we walked back to our house, grabbed the bikes, and rode them in.  One night after bible study we discovered that the bus schedule is also different after certain times on certain days and ended up having to walk quite a ways to catch a bus home.  The good news is that the city is laid out in a manner that is conducive to walking.

The girls have started school and are doing well.  They fit right in with all the other third culture kids and have a lot in common because most of the kids are from somewhere else.  Amy has been volunteering at the school so she can remain connected with the girls and what they are up to.  God has been using Amy in a wonderful way to minister to others as she volunteers daily.  

Probably the hardest thing so far is that we now live where the sun don't shine.  At leas not all the time.  When it does come out from hiding it is beautiful, but still cold.  Luke and Lance told one of the church members from Pakistan that we needed to drive somewhere nearby so we could see the sun.  In his wonderful accent he exclaimed, “You won't find it!  Even when you see it you will only find the dummy sun.  It looks like the sun but it doesn't get warm until spring!  You can stand in it all day and never find it warm!”  So I guess we will have to make do with the “dummy sun” until spring.  

Thanks to everyone for your prayers.  We feel them and they sustain us.  May God be praised as we begin this new life for His glory and His Kingdom.

In Christ,
Laramie

Luke 9:57-58  57 As they were walking along the road, a man said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go."  58 Jesus replied, "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head." 

I have had the privilege to live enough life that I feel like I'm at a point of having perspective.  I've slept in all manner of locations throughout the world in various states of safety, emotional state, and nourishment.  From comfortable plush hotel rooms, bunks at sea, catching a few minutes of sleep sitting in a corner on foreign smuggler ships taking turns standing guard over each other, tents in Kuwait and Afghanistan, many hot sleepless nights in Haiti, and many different beds generously provided by believers in their homes throughout the United States.  I've lived long enough with those that don't know where they're next meal is coming from, and spent enough days with the impending specter of death hanging over my head to have some perspective that only comes from hard experience while seeing the hand of God deliver when there seems to be no other possible explanation.  

I've been reminded of the words of our Lord so many times since we have begun this journey as missionaries.  I feel Him so close sometimes loving me, leading me, and teaching me through experiential training.  There can be no separation from the intellectual understanding of following Christ and the practical.  Orthodoxy and Orthopraxis must prove each other to be true.  1 John 2:4  The man who says, "I know him," but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in him. 

This past road trip to reconnect with supporters and build relationships with new ones was full of joy as well as sadness.  Louisiana bears so many hard memories for me, and I don't really like to go back there.  There are good memories though that come flooding back sometimes unexpectedly bringing warmth and a smile.  

I really loved my grandfather on my mom's side.  I grew up next door to him.  My mom was by far the youngest sibling in her family and my grandfather was in his.  This connected me in a very tangible way to a history that was closer than most people get to experience.  He was old when I was born, and his family was even older.  He was full of stories of a life before industrialization and technology that I would get him to repeat often as I would fall asleep while he would tell them.  Stories of growing up as a sharecropper during the depression, and getting expelled from school for putting a firecracker in the principal's coat pocket in the seventh grade never to receive any more education.  His own father died when he was two years old and he began working with the Civilian Conservation Corps after getting kicked out of school.

He had a dark, deeply wrinkled, weathered face and smelled like sweat and garlic.  He worked hard on his farm and brought me everywhere he went for the first few years of my young life.  I spent a lot of time riding the tractor, and watching him try to keep cows alive.  Some of my favorite memories are riding in his old green Ford pickup truck to Olive Branch to spend time with his brothers.  They seemed larger than life to me as we would pull up to their old, weather beaten farmhouses and my grandfather would sit on the porch to converse with them.

I remember being scared to death of my Uncle Lanier who had fought in the Pacific during the second World War.  I still will never understand why he would pull me close, pull out his razor sharp pocket knife, and tell me he was going to cut off my ear.  Then he would let me go an laugh like it was a good joke.  I remember sitting on the steps of Uncle Taylor's house and hearing stories told with a flavor that was painted with a rich vocabulary of old country cuss words.  Probably my favorite times were spent sitting in the yard beneath the porch of Uncle Robert's house.  Uncle Robert was very old and became the patriarch and father figure of my grandfather after their father died.  Uncle Robert smoked a pipe and wore overalls.  I would sit in the yard smelling the calming aroma of pipe smoke and play with all the matches that littered the ground beneath his rocking chair as he rocked back and forth on the old wooden porch above.  He would give me a hammer so I could hammer them into the ground and build things out of them.  While he and my grandfather would chat.

On the way home he would stop by an old run down convenience store that smelled like mildew and buy me a cup of Borden's ice cream.  It came in a paper cup with a flat wooden spoon.  The ice cream tasted so good as I would lick it off the rough spoon sitting next to my grandfather on the seat of his pickup truck.  The shell of that store still remains in the form of an abandoned building grown thick with weeds and trees, but the memories come flooding back every time I pass by.

It was difficult to see all the family fight so hard for his property after he died.  He had included me in his will, but I chose to stay out of the fight.  I know that I may have had a different perspective than the others because of my special relationship with him.  I don't know what the others had, and I know now that people change with age.  Some grow bitter and hard, and some mellow out and soften.  I just know that the best things I could have gotten from him are the intangibles that no one can take away.

Living like transients has helped me loosen my grip on stuff.  Too much stuff just weighs us down and keeps us from being in a position to go when God calls.  Sometimes it can be difficult because the few necessities we keep are hard to maintain and keep up with.  We often lose things spending lots of time looking for them which causes us to constantly question what is really necessary.  As I am writing this the microwave oven died and it doesn't even seem to phase us knowing that in a week we won't need it anymore.  Things take on a more utilitarian value in order to accomplish the mission instead of a sentimental value for security and comfort.  The camper we're living in is slowly crumbling around us, but we just need to live in it long enough to make it to our next place.

Living like this incurs lots of opinions from those that don't share our experience or perspective.  Some people think it is cool, many others don't agree and make sure that we know how much they don't agree.  I am much more cautious on who I share in conversation with.  I have casted enough pearls before swine to feel their feet on my neck as they walk over me with their harsh judgment.  

It is certainly interesting to hear the different opinions as we share about our life and mission work past, present, and future.  I have sat before what felt like the Sanhedrin and been lambasted by the self professed religious elite on fully accepted fine points of theological opinion, and sat in offices of multiple degree holders as they showcased their degrees explaining each one while handing me a large volume of their doctoral thesis with their title gilded on the front in gold.  The message coming across clear that formal education is worth more than battle scars.

After one particular disheartening inquisition I read from Amy Carmichael's Things As They Are to help me fall asleep.  I knew that she would understand and I was not at all wrong.  It is amazing how God can seem to talk to us directly sometimes through voices that were recorded well over a century ago, but still hold eternal value and relevance as if they were replying to an immediate question posed.

Amy put it this way “We need such men in our Native Church. God create them; they are not the product of theological colleges. And may God save His Missions in India from wasting His time, and money, and men, on the cultivation of what may evolve into something of no more use to creation than a new genus of jelly-fish.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer talks about this.  Here is a man that knew rejection to the point of death.  His conclusion is that rejection is a necessary part of being a disciple.  In his Cost of Discipleship he says, “But in the passion Jesus is a rejected Messiah.  His rejection robs the passion of its halo of glory.  It must be a passion without honour.  Suffering and rejection sum up the whole cross of Jesus.”

Bonhoeffer continues to reason that if our Savior was rejected, then we must also follow Him in this rejection.  It is necessary because it places our dependency solely on Him, just as His was in His Father.  About the disciples Bonhoeffer says, “They have only him, and with him they have nothing, literally nothing in the world, but everything with and through God.”  He goes on to say about the distinction between others and the disciples, “ Yet there will be enmity between them right to the bitter end.  All the wrath of God's people against Him and His Word will fall on His disciples; His rejection will be theirs.”

This rejection only solidifies the bonds of strong relationships with others that experience it.  It draws us closer together as His disciples.  I have been privileged to find this deep camaraderie among the most unlikely people in some of the most unlikely places.  Those relationships are like gold and rise up like a sweet smelling aroma – like my Uncle Robert's comforting pipe.  

I was asked to deliver the invocation for my friend Matt's Navy retirement ceremony.  Even though it was in Virginia, I was honored and drove up there.  After driving all over the United States a couple more days of driving to be able to participate in such a special event seemed like a breeze.  Matt and I have a special relationship.  We served on the USS Gary together in the late nineties. We would often be paired together to stand watch while in port and passed the time by getting to know each other.  He has a depth of thought borne out of lots of salty sea time.  

I watched Matt work with one of the most difficult people I've known with a supernatural patience that I don't seem to possess.  TM3 Moorehouse “struck” out of deck division and ended up in Matt's division.  The first time I met Moorehouse I was cleaning the birthing compartment and kept smelling something that I was sure was the inside of a dumpster.  Eventually I realized that the horrid smell was protruding from Moorehouse.  Most of us lamented that such a creature could even be allowed to walk the streets unsupervised, let alone begin to gain rank in the US Navy.  

Back in the days when sailors still wore dungarees and we stenciled our names on our uniforms, Moorehouse simply wrote his in what ET3 Ehrlich dubbed famously “Moorehouse Font”.  It looked as if Frankenstein's monster had attempted to brand the uniforms with the Moorehouse name.  However, I saw Matt work tirelessly with unmatched patience vainly trying to help this guy out.  I was there during a great time of tragedy for Matt that I do not feel at liberty to share because it is his story.  Suffice to say that it was a privilege to be a part of his retirement ceremony and to meet his wife and new baby son.  

After living in so many places and doing so many things we often run across people that we seem to know.  I've gotten use to this feeling and the immediate reaction of staring at each other for a long time trying to rack our brains and find context to fit the face before you.  This happened at Matt's retirement ceremony.  The guy in front of me and I kept listing off places we had lived and work we had done until we finally remembered that we had both been in BUDs class 238 together.  He quit during Hell Week in 238, I did in 239, and we hadn't seen each other since.  It was great to reminisce about the good times of class 238. 

The Navy is full of transients and outcasts.  It was refreshing to be a part of such a salty retirement ceremony.  There was plenty of tradition, sounding of boatswain's pipes, and ringing of bells.  Tattooed sailors following the ceremony, but with personality much lacking in political correctness.  They didn't have to make up anything or add fluff, and could only hit on the highlights of Matt's career that if he had the time to share in detail could have filled volumes of books with riveting stories.  

As we spend our last few days hoping to stretch out the usefulness of our current abode, we look forward to hopefully a little better accommodations where we're heading.  Ultimately we look forward to our heavenly home knowing that we are called to follow our Savior wherever He leads.  It really doesn't matter where we go as long as He is there.

Hebrews 11:13 All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth.  14 People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own.  15 If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return.  16 Instead, they were longing for a better country-- a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. 

2 Timothy 2:1-3  You then, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.  2 And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable men who will also be qualified to teach others.  3 Endure hardship with us like a good soldier of Christ Jesus. 

I was born in a time of peace.  Of course there is no such thing as perfect peace this side of heaven, but at least relative peace unique to most of history.  The Vietnam War was coming to a close when I was born, so most of my friends and I were fascinated by this most recent of wars in our lifetime.  Even though this relative peace existed for us, there was an impending feeling that there was more going on, and that the peace wouldn't last.  There was certainly a war for those of us that were unborn with the recent rise of birth control and the decisive processes set forth by Roe Vs Wade that led to a significantly less overall birth rate for those of us considered Generation X than the previous generation.  

The Lord even continued to prepare the Israelites for warfare even after they had gained victory over Canaan as described in Judges 3:1-2  These are the nations the LORD left to test all those Israelites who had not experienced any of the wars in Canaan  (he did this only to teach warfare to the descendants of the Israelites who had not had previous battle experience).

I grew up in a small rural area.  We had plenty of woods and fields to roam and play.  My most immediate friends could all meet me in the woods from their houses and we would play war together.  Most of what we knew came from the popular Vietnam movies of the 1980's, so that is what we would play.  Two of my closest friends were Andy and Huey.  Andy always seemed to know the best way to play the games, and Huey was our comic relief.  There was a Vietnam vet that lived on the same road as Andy.  He lived alone and got in trouble a few times for growing marijuana.  We all held him in awe because of his Vietnam vet status.

We would camp out in the woods, make lean to shelters with sticks, and sometimes just sleep in our ponchos in the rain for a realistic feel.  We were always dressed in camo and smoked Camel cigarettes, because that's what they did in the movies.  Our favorite game to play was BB gun war.  We would actually shoot each other with BB guns.  This was before air soft or paintball existed, so we had to improvise.  Once I got shot directly in the eye.  The BB looked as big as a basketball coming toward my face and by some miracle I was able to close my left eye about a millisecond before the BB smacked it causing it to hit my eyelid instead of my eyeball.  It hurt so bad and I screamed so loud that Andy tried to cover my mouth to keep me from screaming.  We made up a story of the BB ricocheting from a limb while shooting at a bird to tell our parents.

Huey sometimes did some crazy things.  Once he and some other boys wrestled a giant loggerhead turtle out of ditch.  For some reason Huey decided to kill the turtle.  After he killed it he opened it up, put the guts in his mouth, and yelled “Navy Seals!” at the top of his lungs.  Because of his desire to push the envelope, it is no wonder that he was the first one to die.  I remember getting the call that he had drowned.  He and two other guys that use to hang out with us had attempted to cross a flooded river and all died together.

One of our favorite pastimes was climbing a local radio tower.  Even though there were radiation hazard warnings and a high fence with barb wire guarding the entrance we were undeterred.  I never went all the way to the top, only to the middle level which was plenty high enough.  Huey and Andy always went all the way up, and they didn't give me a hard time for staying at the middle level.  I always wondered if the electromagnetic radiation at the top of the tower contributed to a brain tumor that Andy developed in his 20's.  An operation successfully removed the tumor, but complications from the surgery left him an invalid.  He required a breathing tube and ventilator for the rest of his life.  His mother needs to be promoted to sainthood for the care she took of him for at least a decade and held on hope of recovery until he finally died.  He was buried just a few yards away from Huey.   

I don't know what it was that made us always long for war.  I do know that the spiritual battle rages all the time and almost without relent even apart from a physical battlefield in an actual declared war with soldier's sent from sovereign nations engaging in mortal combat.   I've seen that too, though.  I've seen the look in the eyes of the guys that spent their days outside the wire in Afghanistan.  They would come into the chapel and lift up praise to God with their rifle by their side.  That same look exists in the eyes of some of the young men at the skatepark even though they have never set foot on an actual battlefield.  Their war rages inside their homes and in their neighborhood.  

I pray for those skatepark guys all the time.  I was privileged to be able to have a long conversation about the gospel with them one night.  One of the guys started up a conversation with me and began asking me a lot of questions about what the Bible says.  Slowly everyone started to gravitate over to the area where we were talking and we finally all sat down on our skateboards in a big circle.  They asked me what the Bible says about marijuana specifically, how it might relate to other drugs, and how it is different from alcohol.

We talked about the different aspects of all these things for a long time, but it boiled down to this.  I explained that drunkenness was a sin, and that in this case there really wasn't a difference between getting high or drunk because they were both considered sinful.  However, the moderate consumption of alcohol was handled differently.  Jesus tuned water into wine and we see Paul even recommending for Timothy to use a little wine medicinally for some stomach issues he was having.  The difference with drug use was primarily found with the English word sorcery that is translated from the Greek word φαρμακεία (pharmakeia).  The conclusion being that recreational drug use is sinful.  The conversation was great and I appreciated their openness to share and the willingness to listen as I answered their questions giving them the hope of the gospel in Jesus Christ.  

It can be easy to forget that those of us in full time ministry are soldiers on the front lines of a battlefield and that there are real casualties.  If satan can't get to us personally, then he will attack the weakest of those closest to us.  It was difficult to wake up to a text recently that said a friend of mine was dead.  He was a pastor of a church and took his own life.  His family was falling apart and it seemed like the only solution to him of a way out.   This death is such a stark reminder of the reality of the war and the fact that we have an enemy that comes to steal, kill, and destroy.

The same day that his mom was sending me texts about his funeral arrangements, I was in a Skype interview with the International Church of Ljubljana in Slovenia working out the details for me to come visit their church.  So bittersweet.  Something so joyful and so tragic occurring simultaneously.  For the past year I had been praying about what God would have us specifically do beyond Haiti.  Our previous experience with the International Church in Haiti, and specifically City on a Hill Fellowship at Respire showed us how effective a ministry to the international third culture in the English language can be.

One of the biggest struggles that we saw in Haiti was trying to integrate directly into the Haitian culture.  The buffer of a third international culture with the common English language provided an amazing bridge.  When we began looking for other international opportunities to serve, we began looking at International Churches worldwide.  I had spent some time fasting and praying about this and came upon the International Church of Ljubljana in Slovenia the morning after breaking my fast.  They were looking for a pastor and it seemed like a perfect fit for how God had gifted me to serve in light of our previous mission experience.

Lance and I went there for 2 weeks to visit.  We spent a lot of time in prayer together with the leadership of the church.  At the end of the 2 weeks they extended a formal invitation for me to come and serve as part of their leadership in the position of pastor and I accepted.  The leadership team were all great hosts and made us feel welcome.  Ram, one of the elders, was born as a Brahman Hindu in India and was led to Christ in a similar church while working in Yemen.  The other two men that form the leadership are Todd from California, and Aaron from Canada.  The bible studies that I had the privilege to lead were made up of Americans, British, Pakistani, Chinese, German, and Slovenian all learning and sharing together with the common language of English.  Both of the church services that I was able to lead had visitors from other countries that were in Ljubljana temporarily, as well as international students from many different nations even as far away as Samoa. 

Probably the most interesting person that I met while in Ljubljana was Chicken Joe.  Chicken Joe is the stage name of an Irish street performer from Belfast, Ireland.  Sporting lots of tattoos, a kilt, and a thick Irish accent, Chicken Joe was every bit as eccentric as his name hints.  Chicken Joe advised that the secret to happiness is enjoying Monday's, because if you have a job that allows you to enjoy Monday then you're not just working for the weekend.  Following his advice, I can say with certainty that there is nothing else I would rather be doing.  

They don't eat cat in Slovenia like they did in Haiti, but they do eat horse.  Lance could not wait to try a famous Slovenian horse burger.  We walked up to a restaurant conspicuously named “Hot Horse” and ordered one.  I reluctantly took a bite of Lance's, but he enjoyed it and ate the whole thing.  I thought it tasted kind of like rubber.  All I could think of was a giant horse replete with all the smells, whinnying, and neighing.  It just seems like horses are not meant to be food.  

Just a few days after returning from Slovenia we went to boys camp at Judson Baptist Retreat in Louisiana.  I love camp and camp food.  We were the missionary speakers this year and were able to share all about Haiti with boys ages 7-12.  I think their favorite were the Journey videos Luke and Lance made, especially the one of torching tarantulas. 

I feel privileged to be able to continue as a soldier, and that by God's grace He has called me to continue international mission work.  Our plan right now is to move to Slovenia this fall, we just have some logistics to work out and some more monthly support to raise.  The church is able to provide some money toward housing, but most of our income will still come through Disciples Outpost.  I will continue to preach the gospel and go wherever my Lord leads looking forward to the day that the war is over and He calls me home.

Micah 4:2-4  2 Many nations will come and say, "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths." The law will go out from Zion, the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.  3 He will judge between many peoples and will settle disputes for strong nations far and wide. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.  4 Every man will sit under his own vine and under his own fig tree, and no one will make them afraid, for the LORD Almighty has spoken. 

In Christ,
Laramie

​Matthew 9:10 While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew's house, many tax collectors and "sinners" came and ate with him and his disciples.  11 When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and 'sinners'?"  12 On hearing this, Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.  13 But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners."

I bought my first real skateboard in Thousand Oaks, California two years ago.  We were back on a break from Haiti and sharing with a church there.  We had gotten into skating because skateboards are small, relatively cheap, and there are free skateparks everywhere.  The only one of us that had a decent board was Luke, and it was given to him years ago by a friend of ours that outgrew it.  I had a board that I bought for ten dollars on Amazon and the girls had Wal-Mart boards.  Lance just traded out with one of us when we weren't skating.

I was attempting to skate into a large bowl and mostly just kept falling, rolling around, and hurting myself when one of the older kids there decided to intervene for my own good.  “That skateboard's too small for you.  If you keep trying to skate with it you're just going to hurt yourself.”  I was already accomplishing the latter part pretty well so I believed him.  Another guy decided to step in.  “I've got an old board I'll sell you for twenty bucks.  It'll fit you.”  I thought that twenty bucks was worth a risk so I took him up on the offer.

He went to his car and pulled the board out of his trunk.  As soon as I stepped on it to try it out I could tell the difference immediately.  The difference was so stark that I felt confident and ready to go back and tackle the park.  I paid him the money and the board was mine.  The only flaw was the fact that it had an Anime style pornographic cartoon on the bottom of the deck.  As soon as I had paid the money I took out my pocket knife and began to scrape away the painting.  It only took about thirty seconds and you couldn't even tell what was there before.

The guy was puzzled and asked what in the world I was doing.  I told him that I was a pastor and I didn't want a pornographic picture on the board.  Another guy was watching the whole thing and asked, “If you are a pastor, then why would you buy a board like that?”  It was a good question – valid – and deserved an answer.  God seems to have gifted me with the ability to look beyond the surface.  I love to restore things and have worked with enough old stuff to recognize when something is solid and just needs a little TLC to become something beautiful.

It must have been the Holy Spirit working in this whole situation because I didn't even have to pause to give the guy an answer.  I told him that this is what Jesus did for me personally and what he does to save sinners.  He comes to us and sees us with all of our sin.  We are filthy before him, but He buys us with His blood.  He saves us from the wrath of God that we rightly deserve.  This is justification – when we are purchased and declared right before him.  He then takes us and begins to make us like Him cleaning us up through the power of the Holy Spirit.  This process can be painful – just like scraping away the picture with the knife – and we can bear the scars of our sin.  I was holding a wonderful example of this in my hand as the deep knife grooves depicted the process of removing the pornography.  Then He takes us with Him and gives us the privilege to participate with Him in the work that He is doing.

I would like to say that this guy repented, gave His life to Christ, or even asked more questions.  But this is real life.  Instead he just stared at me and didn't say anything else.  Everyone in the park had stopped skating when he asked the question to hear how I was going to answer.  I just let the words hang for a while.  The silence was eventually broken by the skaters going back to skating.  It didn't seem like he or anyone else wanted to know anymore so I just started skating too.  With the new board it almost looked like I knew what I was doing.  

John 6:44 "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him, and I will raise him up at the last day. 

I love the movie Amazing Grace.  It is definitely one of my favorites.  I can identify in some way with most of the main characters.  I love the passion of Wilberforce and the obvious calling of God on his life through circumstances beyond his own initiative.  I identify with the rough edges of Clarkson during one of the first meetings when asked ,”Do any of you saints drink?” and Clarkson pulls out a flask and answers, “Well this one bloody does”.  Later also as he is referred to disdainfully as a “certain itinerant clergyman”.  However unusual it may sound I identify the most of all with Olauda Equiano – the slave.  I'm sure that I can get roasted for saying this in our current political climate, but it is true.  I relate because we have the same Jesus who saved us both from sin.

The first time I saw the movie I noticed the short scene where Equiano was signing books.  I thought to myself that this must be a real book, and if it was that I must read it.  As soon as the movie was over I went online and searched for the book.  I found it in about five minutes and downloaded a free copy from Project Gutenberg.  I started reading it and couldn't stop.  I went to Amazon and found a hard copy.  When it arrived I continued to reading it and it remains one of my favorite books.  It is an amazing picture of the gospel.

Equiano was kidnapped from Africa with his sister and sold into slavery.  He eventually sailed all of the world and endured hardships that are difficult to imagine.  After many years he was able to save enough money to buy his freedom.  He says, “I believe there are few events in my life which have not happened to many; it is true the incidents of it are numerous, and did I consider myself an European, I might say my sufferings were great; but when I compare my lot with that of most of my countrymen, I regard myself as a particular favorite of heaven, and acknowledge the mercies of Providence in every occurrence of my life.”  The things that happened to him were horrible and inexcusable however, they are also the events that brought him to come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.  He was keenly aware of this fact and grateful for it.

I've tried reading Wilberforce and Clarkson.  They are both good writers and I like to read them, but always lose focus and interest before I can complete one of their books.  Equiano on the other hand, I can't put down and can read over and over again.  Equiano actually seems the most grounded of the three.  Clarkson and Wilberforce are a little out there.  Especially Clarkson.  The thing that I learn from them is that maybe you have to be a little bit out there to take up the gauntlet of sharing the gospel as revealed in social issues as a life's calling.  This I an relate to.  You need to be an outcast to care about outcasts.

The first time we came back from Haiti we were pretty strung out because we were overwhelmed with the magnitude of issues that God was revealing to us. Among the myriad of issues were the children that we were ministering to.  The unthinkable stories of abuse and torture that had fractured their personalities, and the presence of manifest demonic among them seemed insurmountable.  I had arranged a meeting with a pastor that had visited Haiti and initially gave us advice in this realm.  He is like us and identifies with the outcasts.  We sat down and talked with him and a guy that he is mentoring that had been to Haiti with him.  

We explained the things we were seeing and he seemed to understand experimentally all too well what we were explaining to him.  I explained and he listened patiently.  In the end he could have given us any myriad of morsels of advice that would have been significantly beneficial to our current circumstance.  Instead, he chose one piece of advice that we are just now starting to grasp and put into practice three years later.  “What your are dealing with is going to drive you crazy if you don't find an outlet.  You have to bring some normalcy into your life.  Go to movies, find a hobby, but don't get bogged down in this stuff and let it overwhelm you.”  That was it.  That was basically all the advice from a seasoned saint on the same turf.  I understand now how valuable that advice is.

Our local library has tons of movies on the shelves and even more in the network that we can request.  At least once a week now we can check out a movie.  We're getting caught up and I am beginning to understand pop American culture a little better.  I'm getting a vocabulary to converse.  Some of my favorites have been the Batman series with Christian Bale.  I thought it was most interesting when he was formulating the symbol of the bat.  He realized that he needed something that transcended himself and would strike fear in the heart of his enemies.  This just happened to be the same fear that he had to overcome himself.

I spent much time afraid as a child.  I had a difficult time sleeping because of constant nightmares.  I remember the first time I really felt that not only did I not have to be afraid, but I was to be feared.  I was in BUDs doing night surf passage.  As our boat crew was paddling the boats in the dark I realized that we were the scariest thing out there.  It was empowering and I never forgot it.

As I thought about how these lessons applied to my life currently I wondered what the devil is most afraid of.  Angels in general are pretty scary things on their own.  Good and bad angels are both scary in their own right and context.  Specifically the Angel of the Lord as depicted in 2 Kings 19:35 That night the angel of the LORD went out and put to death a hundred and eighty-five thousand men in the Assyrian camp. When the people got up the next morning-- there were all the dead bodies! 

I have begun to learn about and use offensive prayers.  We are told to submit to God and resist the devil in James 4:7.  A person that has been washed clean by the blood of Christ, adopted into the family by God the Father, and empowered by the Holy Spirit has been given authority to resist the devil.  This has to be the scariest thing that a person can be to our enemy.  Someone that is aware of his schemes, filled with the Holy Spirit, and engages in active resistance against him.  The night after watching Batman I felt empowered to live out my faith in an active resistance against the enemy.  I was tired of taking his crap.

I spent some time in prayer worshiping God, giving glory to His name, and asking to be filled with the Holy Spirit.  I prayed against satan and his demons.  I prayed that any demons that were actively engaged in harassing my family or I would be cut off from help from other demons.  I prayed that they would be tormented tenfold whatever they were trying to do to us.  I prayed that satan and any demons that were in my presence would be blind, deaf, mute, and unable to touch my family or I. I told them I didn't want them here, and they were unwelcome intruders that had no place with my family or I.  Then I commanded them to leave.  I gave them no quarter.  

That night I had a strange dream.  I have learned to distinguish normal dreams from dreams that are somehow connected to a spiritual battle.  This was the latter.  I dreamed that I was walking down a road in the dark.  The moon was shining and there was mist all around.  I was nearing a mailbox.  When I got close to the mailbox someone came along and kicked it and it floated down the road.  When I got to the place where the mailbox landed there were two young twin ladies standing there.  They had dark hair and fair skin and stood there glaring at me.  I don't know how but somehow I knew who they were.  I began to speak and pointed to one of them and said, “You can only hear”.  Upon saying this the other one glared at me and said “Yes, and I can only speak!”.  When she said this she reached out to me and began to reach into my stomach.  I felt pain and commanded her to stop in the name of Jesus.  I was awakened by saying the name of Jesus out loud.  There are many symbols that could be analyzed from the dream, but the point that I came away with was that my prayers had been effective and someone was mad.  I went back to sleep satisfied that I had the upper hand.

In addition to watching movies we have also taken up hobbies.  I guess skateboarding is the closest thing to normal that I can find to do at this phase of life.  It is cheap and convenient compared to any of the other past hobbies I've tried.  The first time I went to the skatepark here we started out as the only ones there.  After a while a young man about 15 years old showed up.  He started skating and was trying a trick on top of a ramp.  After a couple of tries and failures he began to yell obscenities and slam his skateboard against the ramp.

If you have eyes to see you can see beyond the f bombs and the loss of control.  You can know that there is no way in the world that a kid has that much rage stemming only from 5 minutes and a couple of failed tricks.  I know personally what it's like to have struggled with an undercurrent of anger and deeper issues that have been suppressed and not dealt with.  The difference with me is that I have a Savior to lead me to healing.  I watched this kid and began to pray for him, that God would save his soul, and bring healing to his pain.

I have become more sensitive to culture, language, and communication.  Skaters are an interesting group.  Mostly introverted, anti-social, economically low income, driven, perfectionistic, and honest.  Their common language is skating.  I began to realize this when I would show up and another skater would come zooming by and do some trick right next to me.  Maybe they would glance my way, and then zoom off.  This is how you greet someone in skate.  Rarely ever are actual words exchanged between individuals.  Normally the only words that are spoken are profanities screamed for missed tricks.

There is an interesting dynamic that happens there.  The regular skaters don't tolerate smack talk and it seems to be all put up or shut up.  If you can't skate you usually don't run your mouth, you just show what you can do.  If you can't skate and your trying this is OK too, and most other skaters will actually provide encouragement. Just don't say that you can if you can't.  If you come and run your mouth but can't actually skate, you will soon be shamed by all those around you who can.  These guys seem to never last more than an hour before slinking away.  There is an open honesty that exists because of this.  The skateboard and the concrete don't lie and you will soon be shown for who you are no matter how much you run your mouth.

The drug use is pretty prolific.  Little effort is made to conceal it.  The only real conversation that I've been able to have came one night after I earned some clout for getting into an argument with a guy that was playing loud profane rap music.  Everyone was annoyed with him.  I asked him politely to turn it down and he immediately began to threaten me.  I just called the police and then things settled down.  It turns out everyone was happy because they didn't like him, but didn't have a leg to stand up to him because of their own illegal activity.  We talked for a while and all of them opened up to me about their drug use.  They felt comfortable sharing with me and I just listened.  It is obvious that they are just self medicating for deeper issues.  Issues that only Christ can overcome.

I have become very suspicious of various gimmicks to share the gospel.  Even more suspicious of conversions using these gimmicks, especially when discipleship is defined as teaching the gimmick in a way to be taught to others.  I had a discussion about this with a pastor friend who asked me indirectly and arrogantly, “When people say they don't like to use gimmicks, I just turn around and ask them – Then what are YOU using.”  My reply brought an unexpected reaction.  I just told him that I try to get to know people and ask them personal questions about their life.  He was actually stunned, began to stutter, and then changed the subject.  I have come to believe that we need to get to know someone personally to the point that when we share the gospel with them we understand their specific pain enough that Christ is the only solution we can offer as relief.  Matthew 11:27 "All things have been committed to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.  28 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." 

It was good to be asked to begin counseling and to be able to use the training we have been through so far, our practical experience, and knowledge of scripture.  The only problem is that we hear the depths of human depravity as we seek to bear one another's burdens.  This has become a familiar place and I know that Amy and I have been called to it.  We are learning to do it better and in such a way that we can continue to be effective for long term.  I skate.  Amy has taken up pottery and it is a wonderful thing indeed.  So many directly applicable spiritual lessons.

I try to get feedback from the kids on our life.  The way we have been living like vagabonds and currently in a camper that is in disrepair, the unpredictable present and future, along with the obvious spiritual war that we are constantly engaged in.  Lance gave me an unexpected answer the last time we talked about this.  He said that life was more interesting this way.  I asked him to clarify and he said that he can look at what life could have been through those around him.  He said that our life is never boring and he likes it better that way.

We have been praying about what is next.  While we wait for God to provide this answer we have been engaged in dialogue with organizations that Disciples Outpost might be able to partner with internationally.  Nothing has materialized yet, but God knows the timing.  The longer we spend out of Haiti the more it seems that returning is probably not going to be an option.  The good side is that relationships that we formed there continue to grow and we stay in communication with both Haitians and ex pats that we bonded with.

I truly relate to the outcasts - that group of weary disciples that followed Jesus to their death with the expectant hope of eternal life.  They knew where eternal life rested, and they were judged by all around them.  Self proclaimed saints and sinners alike.  I relate even more as I am judged and ridiculed by those around me.  I have been yelled at to my face by family, mocked through undertones from various pulpits, and ignored by the religious elite.  Should I expect any different than my Lord?  I don't fit into a mold.  I wasn't made to.  In the end all that I care about hearing is “well done good and faithful servant.”  The joy of expecting to hear this drowns out the current scoffers.

Like Peter, it is the validation of the Holy Spirit Himself that counts.  I will continue to follow Him.  May the name of Jesus Christ be glorified.  
Acts 4:13 When they saw the courage of Peter and John and realized that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus. 

In Christ,
Laramie 

2 Corinthians 1:3-5   3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,  4 who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.  5 For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. 

We flew back from Haiti to the United States with Missionary Flights International carrying significantly less than we brought with us.  Not only material possessions but passion, physical and emotional health, and sense of direction.  However, it is always good to fly with those guys.  They are truly a light of Christ in the darkness as they transport missionaries and mission supplies across the ocean.  We were so strung out and in need of rest that the leaving is only now just starting to sink in almost 9 months later.

Even while in Haiti I began planning what we would do when we got back.  Being a goal focused, driven man I started planning speaking engagements beginning six weeks after our return.  Many of our closest friends seemed to think that this was too soon, but of course I didn't listen to them.  I thought that six weeks was a long time and should be plenty of time to heal, get some rest, and move on with life beyond the initial mission work we had done in Haiti.  Of course I was wrong.

It was a nice sunny day in April when we returned to our property in South Carolina.  We now had water, but no sewer.  At least that was a step up from Haiti.  We had set up an appointment with a person to set up a septic system in March, but they didn't take it seriously until we actually arrived in April.  It took them over two weeks to get things complete.  During that time we just used our outhouse.  I guess we needed a slow transition back to first world living.  Our camper had previously sustained some pretty significant leaking and the damage to the interior structure had rendered it livable but immovable.  I found some other leaks and also some electrical problems that gave us fits for the first few weeks back.  God is gracious and I was finally able to get everything stabilized enough to create some homeostasis and begin to live a somewhat normal existence again.

I had began building a shed  a couple of years before we went to Haiti and never completed it.  It seemed that when we had the money I didn't have the time and when I had the time we didn't have the money.  I knew we couldn't all stay crammed in our camper for very long and remain sane so I began an all out effort to make the shed livable for the boys.  We got a roof, walls, and a loft completed enough so the boys would have a space to sleep.  Once we got things to that point it seemed that all life kind of stopped for a while and we just started to melt down emotionally.

It started to become very apparent that we weren't going to be able to make the commitments I had began to schedule for our updates with supporting churches and also a camp that I was supposed to speak for.  It was a very humbling experience to begin calling everyone and canceling because we were not ready to travel yet.  Amy and I started seeing a counselor after returning.  When I explained to him what was going on he confirmed that if we would have tried to complete the trip it would have been a disaster for us.  It was at this point that I finally began to realize how serious our condition was and how imperative it was to rest and heal.  He analogized our recovery to someone that was recovering from a very successful open heart surgery.  We were going to heal, but we needed to take it easy and recovery slowly.

Our whole family was invited to attend a youth camp with Bluff Creek Baptist Church in Alabama.  Our only duty was to be chaperons.  Someone sponsored all of us to go so we all went.  It was a wonderful time of healing, connecting with other believers, and worship.  We were also able to provide some mentoring to some young couples looking for guidance through the advancement of their relationships.

Returning back to South Carolina was difficult for me.  It is hard for me to be still, even though we are commanded to be still and know God in His presence.  It felt like I really started to be still and be in His presence for the first time in years.  Even though I pray regularly, seek direction, and worship, it is something different to be still and simply be with Him for the sake of who He is.  I began to realize that this time was a gift from Him and I should not disdain it or take it for granted.  I should cherish it because I may never get another time like this for the rest of my earthly life.  

I had the privilege of meeting a man named Roger Thompson while in Haiti.  He is an author and a deep thinker.  I started reading his newly published book We Stood Upon Stars.  This quote seemed to resonate with me exactly where I was while reading it. “We walked vineyards, where we learned the best vines grow in struggled soil.  We studied the vines, scarred with age.  The signs left behind by years of pruning are easily visible.  We also learned that the best wine grapes grow on vines with the most scars.  Struggles and scars create richness and complexity, producing a wine worth sharing. Pruning is an act of love by the vinedresser.”

One thing I began to learn as we were finally able to settle down enough to start feeling safe again.  More often than not a person will not be able to feel the pain of a wound until they are safe enough to feel it.  Just like a soldier in battle can continue to fight even with a severed limb and not even realize it until the battle is over, Christian soldiers often do not feel the depth of the emotional wounds until they have been removed to safety from the intensity of the battle for a time.  I began to realize how badly my capacity to function in normal life had become impaired.  I started to wonder if I would ever be able to function at normal capacity again.

I was able to connect with the local Haitian pastor of the church in our local area that helped us to learn Creole before we moved to Haiti.  It was pretty cool to be able to share in their language what we had experienced in Haiti.  Luke and I shared together with them on a Sunday morning in July.  They were deeply touched and gave us a generous offering for sharing.  I know that our story touched them on a deeply personal level and probably produced some shame among them for how we were treated among their home country.  It was difficult to navigate and I wasn't expecting that type of response.

Our kids share only very little, share sporadically, and we can never tell when it is coming.  They often seem more resilient than their parents and in many ways more mature emotionally.  It is not very often that they share enough that we can catch a glimpse of the depth that exists beneath the surface of what we see on a normal day.  One thing I have come to believe.  We should foster a certain amount of non-compliance in our children.  Just enough so that they are not afraid to stand up for what's right when it counts.  My kids have the freedom to disagree with me and I am often surprised that sometimes they seem to have more insight into what's right than I do.  To me this seems to confirm that I am doing my job.  I have not pointed them to me as the source of truth, but instead they have trusted me enough as I pointed them to a God who is the embodiment of truth.

It seemed like the strongest conviction to continue ministry work beyond Haiti resided in the desire to share the lessons I had learned on the field with the church in America.  I guess this seemed like a natural extension of the mission because of my many years spent in and working for the US military.  This is what soldiers do.  After a deployment they put together training based on their experience so that other soldiers can learn from them and hopefully carry on the work beyond what was done already.  I began writing this seminar in Haiti and finally completed writing it after returning to the US.

I finally set a date for the seminar in late August and delivered it to a very small listening audience in our sending church in Augusta, GA.  We recorded it on video and audio and made the sessions available on our website.  I wanted to be able to share our experience with anyone that could benefit from it.

During this time I really began praying about further training.  After much prayer and research I finally settled on taking classes in Biblical Counseling through Light University Online.  This came after it was recommended by three different people that I respected professionally all recommended this same training program.  We started taking classes and eventually settled on a track to a Masters Diploma in Biblical counseling with a focus on Crisis and Trauma.  We are now more than half way through to that goal and should be complete in May if we continue on our current track.  It was amazing how much the classes began to help us personally on a deeply experiential level.  Not only were we beginning to heal and understand what we had been through, but we were in a place to be able to empathize to help others that would not have existed had we not experienced the pain we had been through personally.  It's almost like God has a plan in all of this.

We were finally able to set up a speaking schedule to update many of our supporting churches.  It was a small schedule and we didn't try to connect with too many because we needed a trial run to see if we could handle doing speaking and traveling again.  The trip turned out to be really good for all of us.  We have learned how to do this better so that it doesn't wear us out and returned in mid December somewhat rested even though we traveled for almost 2 months.  We were grateful for the support we received from all those connected with this ministry and desire to see us personally continue to share Christ with a hurting world.

After sharing with the last church on our schedule I became kind of emotional again.  In some ways it was relief and in some ways I knew that it was a clear sign that this chapter of our mission work in Haiti was finally over.  What next God?  As we returned back to South Carolina for a regroup and plan on what to do next I seemed to connect with God and get a small glimpse of an answer.  I asked God for confirmation.  It was only a few minutes after that I received a text from one of the churches we had spoken to that asked me to make sure they were on our schedule when we traveled again.  I told the pastor what I had in mind and he confirmed that they needed to hear what God was putting on my heart and said he would help connect me with others that needed to hear also.  I guess we continue one step at a time staying close to our God and going where He goes.

I haven't been too thrilled about most of the Star Wars movies that have been made since the original trilogy.  However, I loved Rogue One.  There are two quotes that just resonate with me.  Jyn Erso just rocks it.  The first quote that gives me chill bumps every time I hear it “What chance do we have?  The question is what choice.  Run, hide, plead for mercy, scatter your forces.  You give way to an enemy this evil with this much power and you condemn the galaxy to an eternity of submission.  The time to fight is now!”  The next quote that she says right before they give their lives to advance the cause of the rebellion “If we can make it to the ground, we'll take the next chance.  And the next.  On and on until we win...or the chances are spent.”

I don't know all of the details of the future.  I am having to learn to take it one step at a time until I see victory or give my life in the advancement of the kingdom of Christ.  One thing I know is that the final victory is assured.  Christ is building His church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.  I have the privilege to participate in the battles that lead to an ultimate victory in the war.  I am growing and maturing to a place where I will be able to give comfort to my fellow soldiers in the battle until the war is over.  

Revelation 19:11-15  11 I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and makes war.  12 His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself.  13 He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God.  14 The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean.  15 Out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. "He will rule them with an iron scepter." He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty.