It looks like an oxymoron, of course, but it’s the most accurate description of this summer.

If you read the last report, you know that someone lightyears ahead of me in the ways of raising ministry support has been called to take the lead on this activity.  The first step is to assemble a team who will provide oversight, guidance, and networking opportunities.  Teambuilding has gotten off to a stuttering start, but we do have a meeting scheduled for next week, and then we can shift focus to next steps.

Because the team will be providing recommendations and approval to written support requests, and the team has yet to meet, the letters that I told you I’d be sending out several months ago have not been sent.  If you were wondering, rest assured that you will be hearing from me in the next couple of months.  That is, unless the team believes the timing, given the season, would be either awkward or render the message invisible.

Meanwhile, my first official deputation service is on the calendar, and I’ve already been included in an annual missions support event.  (‘cart before horse’ has often been how I roll)  I’ve been traveling between central Ohio and northern Indiana every 2-3 weeks since early September, and such is the schedule at least through mid November.  (that’s about $75-100 each round trip, and I actually remember when gas was sold by the half-gallon because the machines were not ready to handle a price above 99 cents)

The annual event, Global Impact Celebration (or GIC) illustrated the importance of clarifying messages.  I learned one week ahead that I had marked my calendar incorrectly and did not in fact have four more weeks to prepare.  Lesson learned.  I met yet another ‘kindred spirit’, a missionary to Paraguay and someone familiar with the deaf experience.  I look forward to our continuing friendship, and I suspect, a hearty board game or two.  I was able to introduce my favorite blogger, Tricia Lott Williford, to a missionary who is less than a year into her journey of life returning after the sudden loss of her husband.  For a dot-connector like myself, seeing how our various and unique paths intertwine and cross one another is always fascinating.  Oh yes, and I have $265 in monthly support commitments.  Thank you to all, for gifts great and small.

Several have commented that their contribution is a small one – be assured, that’s fine!  Jesus was able to do a lot with a couple of fish and a few portions of bread.  It’s the participation, the faithfulness to whatever ministries He lays on your heart, and most of all the prayer support and encouragement that is needed.  A grain of sand is tiny, but a beach is a glorious thing full of wonder and opportunity.

On Sunday, November 17, I’ll be at Whitehall Church of the Nazarene in the morning service at 10:45.  Fitting, as Whitehall is the place I grew up, where I committed my life to Jesus (the first time, and a few times after), and where I presented my first pulpit message.  How many remember, the sunrise service while Rev. Carrico was still Whitehall’s pastor?  Several pastors, music leaders, and youth ministers (including myself) later, Whitehall’s missionary and I will take our exchanged places.  She’ll be in the pew saying “that missionary is my friend”, and I’ll be up front introducing a people group that needs to know Jesus loves them.  Then, we will have lunch!  (and an offering)  Just so you know, missionaries are like marines:  once a missionary, always a missionary  – only reassigned.

Speaking of reassignments….another part of the slow whirlwind is the paid job I currently have in serving folks with developmental disabilities.  First, an increase in frustrations begged a change in shifts – all relationships have their moments, y’know.  Just as one staff member moved on to different employment and I prepared to move into her time slot, a medical emergency removed the two weeks’ notice and I was suddenly a member of the overnight staff.  This has been disconcerting to one client, especially since she wasn’t notified in advance (as we had planned). My body and I haven’t quite negotiated this 3rd shift paradigm yet.  Other situations, both medical and personal, among staff and clients suggest that I will soon be transferred to another client in another household – or perhaps split my time between the two sites.  Any outcome at this point will bring a measure of stress which is likely to spiral.  It’s all in the realm of discussion, negotiation, and frankly ‘God only knows’.  (I can say that, because it is more a statement of fact than a casual colloquialism).  It’s certainly a nudge in some direction, and though I see that rationally, I have to confess that I haven’t handled it as graciously as, in retrospect, I should have.

This and other situations faced by my friends has set me to pondering Joseph, son of Jacob/Israel (Gen 37-50).  We have the advantage of reading the story well after the fact – in the space of a couple of hours, we can see the conflicts, the resolutions, and the overarching providence of God in the whole matter.  Joseph, on the other hand, lived through it over the course of days, weeks, months, and years.  If we could interview him during one of the murkier seasons, would he respond confidently that he was in God’s will?  Would he express regret over making a bold declaration as a teenager that led to his being dumped in a pit and sold into slavery?  Did he plead to God to resolve the increasingly awkward situation with Potiphar’s wife, only to wonder how he ended up in a jail cell, falsely accused?  Did he count the days between revealing dreams to his fellow cellmates and the long two years before the one remembered him to Pharoah?  And yet, every step and apparent setback was a matter of coordination and timing.  The tribes of Israel needed to be nestled in a place and grow in strength and reliance on one another and God…a corner of Egypt would be the place….a famine and a hero would bring them there…a Pharoah would need an interpreter of Divine mysteries, someone he would only have met through the back-channels of the royal jail, a place where the unjustly imprisoned servant of a governor would be held, a slave forcibly removed from the father who would never have been persuaded to let him go – to bring salvation to his people and glory to his God.

When you find yourself in the slow whirlwind, hang on & look up.  He who commands the winds will never lose sight of you, and your peace is found in resolutely not losing sight of Him.

Please include in your prayers:
– the team of my advisors & support network
– the deputation services, introducing the need & raising support
– the people entering the holidays without departed loved ones
– the various health and staffing situations at work