The Whole Inheritance

Greetings from Rome!

I am here at Transform 2013, an outreach program of OM.  At the airport while waiting for the bus to the conference, I stopped at a coffee shop for an after-lunch espresso, as is my habit.  Next to me at the coffee bar was a friendly woman.  She smiled and spoke to me in English.  It turned out that she was also headed to Transform.  We hit it off in an instant friendship.  But Monica and I had no idea at the time just how compatible we were.

Transform in Rome is to prepare missionaries for short-term missions in the countries around the Mediterranean.  “Where are you going after the conference?” Monica asked me.  This would become one of the 2 most common questions to strike up conversation at the conference.  The other being, “Where did you come from?”  I told her that I’m from Texas, living in Milan, Italy, and going to Malta after the conference.  Her smile widened and she said, “Me too!”  Both our jaws dropped open.  Right on cue, the bus arrived and took us to the conference.  Monica and I rode together, each glad to have found a traveling companion.

When I arrived in Rome, I was already going on 2 nights in a row of only 4 hours sleep.  Monday night (or technically, Tuesday morning) I awoke at 2AM with a migraine attack beginning.  The enemy frequently tries to prevent me from going or from being effective on missions trips by attacking me with migraines.  But the Lord said to get on my feet and fight.  So I stood there in the dark room, rebuking the enemy silently so as not to awake my 3 roommates.  The migraine immediately went away and I was able to get back to sleep, but had a 3^rd night of only about 4 hours sleep.  Something would have to break.  The next night (yesterday morning) I woke up again at 2 and simply couldn’t get back to sleep.  It wasn’t that my mind was busy, I just laid there feeling my breath going in and out, and not sleeping.  About 11 that morning, I was considering going to the room to see if I could sleep through lunch.

But my morning prayer partner suggested that I pray with someone who knows about generational curses.  She suggested this because I had opened up and told her about my concerns for my son, who had written on Facebook that he hadn’t been happy in a year, and had asked the question, “Why should I go on living?”  I noted that it was about a year ago that his grandfather (my former father-in-law) had committed suicide.  The person she led me to was Monica.

I told Monica about my son and father-in-law, and also that 4 months later, I also lost a close family friend to suicide.  She said that there is a spirit of suicide and a spirit of death that are generational spirits.  That means that they tend to cling to a person’s family, encouraging death among family members.  I had already broken other such curses off my family, but not specifically suicide or death.  I told her that in the last year that I lived with my husband, I suffered thoughts of suicide all day long, day-in and day-out.  And that finally, when I left him, I was literally running for my life—not because of physical danger from him, but because of the danger that I might, in a moment of weakness, act upon those thoughts because of how intolerable life had become for me.  One day I did come close, but instead called 911 and was referred to the County Mental Health Clinic, where I was given a prescription for an anti-depressant.

Monica took me to her room, laid hands on me and prayed for me, breaking the spirit of suicide and death.  She prayed for the healing of my memories and other things that I don’t remember.  What I do remember is that her hands smelled very nice and felt soothing on my skin.  When I commented on the fragrance of her hands she showed me a little vial of Frankincense.  It has a lovely smell!  It’s really very soothing.

After Monica’s prayer, I felt my energy return.  I did take a nap, but not until after lunch, and only for about 45 minutes.  Last night I slept very well, getting about 8 hours—6 in a row!—thank You, Lord!

Today almost everyone has gone into the city of Rome on outreach, taking many paperback Gospels of John in Italian, 3000 dvd’s of the Jesus film to give away, and thousands of tracts to hand out.  I decided to stay behind, knowing that without a nap, I could never last a whole day into the evening, walking around Rome.  On Fridays I pray for Italy from 3-4 in the afternoon.  So I went to the prayer room, with their big floor map of the Mediterranean countries.  I knelt down on Italy and prayed and wept over it.  Then I stretched out over Italy, my heart right over Tuscany.  For a long time I had no words to pray, just mute longing for the salvation of the people of Italy, and my heart beating over Tuscany.

Then I lifted up my head and saw the words printed on the corner of the map: “Ask Me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession,” (Psalm 2:8).  It was 3 years ago, just before I went to Transform 2010, that I received a prophecy, saying (in part): “You will not just receive the blessing, but the whole inheritance.”  So I stood to my feet and began to ask for the nations as my inheritance, and to claim the whole inheritance.  As brokenhearted as I had earlier felt for Italy, I began to feel confident that God will indeed bless and save the people of Italy—no matter what their background.

Then I remembered a prophecy I received a few days ago, but read this morning: “When your faith is in what you want Me to do for you instead just wanting Me, it is misplaced,” (emphasis mine).  Yes, my faith is in God Almighty, and He alone is the hope for Italy.  God, who helped me yesterday when I was in trouble, can help Italy, too!  God is good!

The Edict of Milan

I recently attended a conference, calling itself an “alternative conference to those applauding Emperor Constantine and the signing of the Edict of Milan.”  This year marks 17 centuries since Emperor Constantine signed the Edict, legalizing Christianity in the Roman world.  It’s called the Edict of Milan because he signed it here in Milan.

On the surface, it seems like the Edict was a good thing for Christianity.  After about 300 years of persecuting and exterminating (feeding Christians to the lions, soaking them with oil and lighting them as torches, and crucifixion), instead of ending Christianity, it had continued to grow.

Constantine was no fool.  He decided that if you can’t beat them, join them.  So that’s what he did.  Was he sincerely converted to Christianity?  Only God knows, but probably not.  The Edict was a political move to bring Christianity under government control—the opposite of the Biblical model, in which the government is under the control of God.  The result was the ritualization of what had until then been Spirit-inspired rites (the Lord’s Supper, for example).  And little by little through these rituals, the human doctrines replaced Biblical soundness (infant baptism and praying to saints, for example).

On December 8, 1854 the Immaculate Conception became a doctrine of the Catholic Church—a fact that many Catholics are unaware of.  Many Protestants don’t realize that the Immaculate Conception is not about the sinless purity of Jesus, it’s about His mother, Mary, being born sinless.  Of course, if Mary was a sinless, divine person, then Jesus could never have died for our sins.  The only way that He could die in our place is if He was 100% human in body.  If you’re interested in reading more on the subject, here’s a link:  Immaculate Conception.

Ironically, the Edict, which was called the “Edict of Tolerance,” gave birth to a new anti-Semitic form of Christianity: Replacement Theology (link for those interested in knowing more about that).  Before the 4^th century, Christians were very much aware of their Jewish roots.  But with the government-controlled version of Christianity, came a way to control the Jews.  Despite having been scattered all over the known world, the Jews continued to grow in population and most refused to convert, but remained Jewish.  Replacement Theology basically says that God gave up on the Jews and turned His attention and affection onto the Christians, instead.  Of course, this doctrine shows a basic lack of understanding about God: He is not a man and He does not change His mind (Numbers 23:19).  God is more than able to love Christians while still loving the Jews.  It’s like being a parent.  My sons are as different from each other as brothers can be, but I can and do love each of them equally.  If I, as a flawed human mother, can love my children equally in their differentness, can’t God also love both the Christians and the Jews?  Of course He can!

There were professors and clerics (Catholic, Evangelical, and Jewish), docents and intellectuals that spoke at the conference.  They spoke on their particular areas of expertise, and in the end we were given the opportunity to sign a petition declaring repentance and true tolerance for the Jewish people and for the State of Israel.

Recently, I have lost some friends.  These are Christian people who disagree with me on the true nature of grace.  They have decided to stop being friends because I believe that grace does more than save your soul.  (You can read more in my blog posts: Stop Complicating the Simple Things, Gracious Grace, Dis-Graceful Conduct, Generous Grace, and Blessed Reassurance, Part One.)  I wanted to agree to disagree—extending grace to them—but they were unwilling.  One of these former friends showed up at the conference, and was so surprised to see me there that when I greeted her warmly, she smiled and kissed me back.  Then she scurried away from me, ostensibly to find a seat, and never said another word to me.  This is at a conference about a new declaration of tolerance?  I tried not to let it hurt my feelings, but I am human, and I did have genuine affection for this person.  She used to be my cell group leader, for crying out loud!

This morning, the Word that the Lord gave me is Isaiah 65:17: “See, I will create new heavens and a new earth.  The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind.”  In meditating about this verse, I realized that God isn’t saying that we won’t have the ability to remember, but rather that we won’t have the motivation to remember.  It’s like when you’re on vacation in a beautiful, tranquil place.  It’s not that you don’t remember the stress of your daily life, it’s just that there’s no motivation in that setting to do so.

Promised Land

In considering these things even further, I remembered a sermon I heard by Chuck Missler in which he described this world as a digital simulation of the real world: An Extraterrestrial Message.  I recommend watching that sermon (follow the link) because it is one of the most amazing explanations of the proof that the Bible is a supernatural book.  His point is that Heaven is a more real reality than this world.  I really like Chuck Missler because he’s unashamedly and unapologetically both Christian and intellectual.  The 2 are not mutually exclusive!

I understand very well why the Bible says that all creation groans to be set free from the bondage of decay (Romans 8:21-22).  I am groaning for it, too!  I look forward to the day when all these injustices (as with the Edict) and misunderstandings (as with grace) are a thing of the dim past that is not worth remembering.  God is good!

A Delightful Day Trip

My houseguests came to Italy from Czech Republic to attend a prophetic prayer conference, but they made use of their free time to do a bit of tourism.  I generally help guests get oriented and figure out how to find what they’re looking for, but mostly I leave them to go visit the castle, the cathedral and other tourist sites without me.  However, my friends Rose and Piotr invited me to come with them to visit Como.  I hadn’t been to Como for several years, and it is a very nice place to visit, so we packed a picnic lunch and I went with them.

We arrived at Como’s San Giovanni station.  Como has 4 or 5 train stations.  I picked San Giovanni because it is above the city, and from it you enter the city through a nice park.  From there we walked to the lakeside park where the monument to Alexander Volta stands, looking very much like a giant Duracell battery.  Ducks approached us quacking for a handout, but we had come empty-handed.

We walked back toward the marina under a canopy of trees so thick that it was like walking in the shade of an arcade gallery.  As we passed the marina, I pointed out that it is possible to take a boat tour of Lake Como.  They decided that it was going to take too much of our time, and so declined—much to my relief.  If they had wanted to do the boat tour, I would have waited for them on solid ground in a coffee shop.  It’s true, I’m not a big fan of boats.  I will ride boats when necessary, but it’s really not my idea of a fun time.  I know that lots of people love sailing, love boating, kayaking, canoeing, but they can have it.

From there we walked to the cathedral where we enjoyed the naturally cool interior, and then we went for a coffee.  The waiter spoke English and entertained us with his shtick for foreign visitors.

Then we went up the funicular railway to the top of the hill overlooking the lake and the city of Como.  The view going up was spectacular.  At the top we found a shady bench and ate our picnic lunch, enjoying the beautiful view and the lovely day.  Piotr pointed across the lake and asked me if the city in the valley was Chiasso, Switzerland.  I said, “I don’t know.  It could be.”  When we found a detailed satellite map, we discovered that it was, indeed Chiasso.  I asked him how he could possibly have known that that was Chiasso.  He shrugged and said, “It was a train to Chiasso, and that looked like it must be the next stop for the train.”

We walked along the narrow street to the scenic overlook at Fonte Pissarottino, which means fountain of Pissarottino.  The fountain did not have drinkable water, and had a marble sign reading “Porta fortuna,” meaning that the water brings good luck.  I translated the sign for them and said, “Of course, we’re blessed, so we don’t need luck.”  The views over Lake Como are all stunning, and this was certainly beautiful.  Then Rose and Piotr wanted to climb even farther up the hill to the lighthouse, Faro Voltiano.  I decided that they could do the climb in the full sun of the afternoon without my help.  So I waited for them at the coffee shop by the Funicular and did one of my favorite activities, people watching.  A tortoise-shell cat came to me, looking for some love.  Since I can’t resist cats, I naturally complied.  With a satisfied meow, he sauntered off to look for a good spot to nap.  Soon after that a big puppy that had slipped off his leash came wagging over to me.  I petted him with one hand and grabbed his collar with the other.  When a girl about 9-10 years old came running up, I handed him over to her.  She was very relieved to have him back.  The rest of the family came running, and made a big fuss over the dog, putting him back onto the leash.  The puppy just continued to wag, enjoying the chaos he had caused.

When Rose and Piotr found me in the shade of the café umbrella they confirmed what I had suspected: that it was a hard climb to the lighthouse in the full sun for very little payoff.  I smiled, thinking that with age (experience) comes wisdom.

We took the train back to Milan from the Como Nord station, which is not far from the bottom of the funicular.  It had been a beautiful day, and a pleasant day trip.  I called it an early night (about 9:30), and we all slept very well.  God is good!

Buckaroo

Greetings from Bulgaria!

As my plane was landing, I could see that Sofia is a beautiful city, and seeing it on the ground confirmed what I had seen from the air.  I am staying with Buck and Nadia, pastors who God had led to leave their church and town to move three hours away to Sofia, but not to start another church.  What they had always done is church planting, but here God is calling out of their comfort zone.  While they are wondering what to do, Nadia has been working prostitutes and other trafficked people.

I met Nadia at a conference in Estonia in October, and we had hit it off.  So when Operation Capitals of Europe set Sofia as their next capital, I contacted Nadia.  She invited me to come for a few days before the start of OCE.  I think this was divine timing.

Last night Buck and Nadia had some friends over and invited me to a Christian musical that had been locally written and produced.  The friends are a couple: Anya is Bulgarian and Sasha (which is a male name) is Russian, and they are both dancers.  The conversation was mostly in Bulgarian.  My ears grasped at a few familiar sounding words, but mostly it sounded very much like Russian.  Buck ordered pizza from Domino’s, and I saw pretty much everyone put ketchup or mustard on their pizza—even my fellow Texan!  I tried mustard on mine, and it was really good!  I would never put mustard on an Italian pizza, but it’s good on American pizza.

Seeing that my plate was empty, Buck asked me if I wanted another slice, to which I responded, “No, I’m good.”  He laughed about how funny it is to say “I’m good” when refusing seconds.  I told him about trying to explain the Texanism “fixin to” to non-Texans, and how I had had to train myself to use the more universally understood “I’m getting ready to.”  He laughed.  He could relate.  Now I keep hearing myself saying “I’m good,” when I had always said it unconsciously.  But as I thought about it, it’s kind of a nice affirmation to say about myself several times a day.  I am good!

The musical was called “John, Son of Thunder.”  Of course, it was all in Bulgarian, and set in modern times, but it wasn’t hard to follow along, since I have read the Gospels.  The music and dancing were really great, and the set design was imaginative.  The audience was most of the spectrum of Sofia’s Christian community, and they pretty much all know each other.  I commented on how nice it was to see Christians of all denominations coming together like this—it’s only really happened in Milan with the March for Jesus.

This morning I woke up to snow falling, but it hasn’t stuck.  For me, snowfall is always a miracle from Heaven.  Who know what God has in store for us today?  But I know this:  He’s good, and whatever He has for us will be good, too.  I’ll say it again: God is good!

Indy Go!

Greetings from Indianapolis!  I am here at the International Conference on Missions (ICOM http://www.theicom.org/conference) with Sally, the brains behind GoMissions, European Faith Missions’ new partner in ministry.  Sally and I are here exhibiting for GoMissions (http://www.gomissions.eu/), an online bulletin board for matching missionaries with mission opportunities in Europe.

Indianapolis is the cleanest, most graffiti-free city I think I’ve ever seen.  And when I commented on that to local people, the answer has come back:  police presence.  I believe it because every time I’ve gone out the door of the hotel, there has been a police car, either parked nearby or passing by on the street.  Every morning at breakfast, there is a group of 5 or 6 police officers who take a break here.

One officer told me that the campaign against graffiti started about 5 years ago, and that it has been an important weapon in the suppression of inner city gangs.  I guess I had never thought of it before.  My only experience of gangs is limited to the musical “West Side Story.”  And I remember that in the first scenes, in fact it’s in the opening credits, the Sharks and Jets dance around marking their turf with graffiti.  Anyway, the result is that Indianapolis is both very clean and feels safe.

Meanwhile, back at the conference, the need for missionaries in Europe is still obviously very much misunderstood here in the US.  When I point out that even people with running water and modern conveniences need a Savior, almost invariably the person responds that America is also a mission field.  I don’t deny the truth of that, but the people who say it tend to be people who are not actively sharing the Gospel here, either.  Interestingly, the people who best understand the need for missionaries in Europe are missionaries serving in other parts of the world.  They know that Europe is the least Christian continent on Earth.

I wouldn’t say that we should stop sending missionaries to Africa because there is still a need there, but Africa is way more Christian than Europe.  In fact, now there is an organization of African missionaries to Europe:  GATE, Gift from Africa to Europe (http://gate-mission.org/GATE%20Flyer.pdf).

And many people who say that they feel called to missions say in the very next breath: “But I could never live without running water.”  Well, Europe is more likely where they are called because those called to live in deserts love the deserts and desert people; those called to live in the jungle love the jungle and the jungle people; and those of us called to live in Europe love Europe and the European people.

Mission does not automatically equal suffering.  The suffering and troubles that Jesus warned about was persecutions.  Anywhere you meet the enemy and people influenced by the enemy, you’ll encounter resistance, trouble, and sometimes persecution.  Missionaries suffer hardship wherever they are.  I have had to learn to sleep sitting straight up on buses, trains, and planes, often missing meals—that’s hardship.  Giving up my house, and leaving my family—especially my grandson—is hardship.  But I know that I will be compensated:

Then Peter spoke up, “We have left everything to follow you!”

“Truly I tell you,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields [and grandchildren]—along with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life,” (Mark 10:28-30, emphasis mine).

Please, friends, help me get the word out:  Europe is a mission field full of people who need Jesus.

The Scars of Communism Part Two

As I wrote in The Scars of Communism (https://europeanfaithmissions.wordpress.com/2012/07/05/the-scars-of-communism/), just before coming on this trip to Hungary and Romania, I opened the box of books that I had gotten out of storage after a year, and the book at the very top was “Tortured for Christ” by Richard Wurmbrand.  The things suffered by Pastor Wurmbrand and the rest of the Underground Church really moved me.  After all, I could have been born in a Communist country, and had to suffer for my faith, too.

And in The Wild Life (https://europeanfaithmissions.wordpress.com/2012/07/07/the-wild-life/) I wrote:

Today there was a conference for the seniors of the church, at which Pastor H. Koraćs Gėza spoke.  I was told that I would have about five minutes to speak to them.  So of course I prayed about it, and here’s what I said:

Looking out here at all the gray hair, I am aware that many of you and your parents kept your faith in Christ under the oppressive rule of the atheistic Communists.  I have two things to say to you: First, I am deeply sorry that my country believed the lies of the Communists and did nothing to help you.  Secondly, I know that someday you will trade your silver crowns for gold crowns.  I am here to honor you for your faithful service to your Lord and mine.

To the young people here I say: learn from these elders, and share the love of Christ with everyone you know.

And finally, I would like to thank Pastor Gėza for coming.  It is an honor to meet you.

When Pastor Gėza returned to the platform, he observed that Christianity had actually flourished and grown under Communist oppression.  He said that Christianity now faces a far more dangerous enemy in the form of complacency.  I believe he’s right.

It is the danger of complacency in Eastern Europe is that it is following the same pattern that makes Western Europe such a difficult mission field.  Complacency has caused Western Europe to evolve from nominal Christianity through religious disconnection, cynicism, and xenophobia to become the secular, materialistic, humanistic, hedonistic, nihilistic, hopeless, suicidal people they’ve become, seeking answers in drugs and alcohol, Eastern Philosophies, Witchcraft, and Satanism.  Is it any wonder that abortion and human trafficking thrives in such an environment?  In Switzerland it is now possible to request physician-assisted suicide without any physical illness.

The most frightening thing of all is that the United States is following the unfortunate pattern of Europe.

What does complacency look like?  Complacency looks like Christianity, but lacks the power of the Holy Spirit, or as the Apostle Paul put it: “having a form of godliness but denying its power,” (2 Timothy 3:5).  Complacency seeks answers and help through human means instead of looking to God as the Source of all things.  Complacency seeks its own comfort instead of God’s way.

When Jesus says, “Follow Me,” Complacency answers, “But I have family responsibilities,” (Matthew 8:21).

When Jesus says, “Follow Me,” Complacency answers, “OK, but let me say goodbye to my family,” (Luke 9:61).

When Jesus says, “Follow Me,” Complacency answers, “But it’s dangerous,” (John 12:25-26).

When Jesus says, “Follow Me” Complacency answers, “But the food there is gross!  I can’t sleep on the floor!  There’s no electricity!  No internet!  No phone signal!” (Matthew 8:19-20).

Complacency makes all sorts of excuses for not following Jesus, and some of them seem appropriate and valid.  But there are missionaries all around the world who have said yes to Jesus even though it meant leaving family responsibilities, saying goodbye to family, going into danger, eating disgusting food, sleeping on the floor, without electricity, internet or phone.

But Complacency is worse than that.  Complacency doesn’t want to rock the boat by bringing Jesus into the school or the workplace.  Complacency believes in the separation of church and state.  Complacency won’t even talk about Jesus at parties with friends, for fear of offending someone.

Because of these attitudes, Jesus is no longer welcome in our schools or workplaces; Biblical Christianity has no say in lawmaking; and political correctness has become more important in American society than the salvation of souls.  Those people that you’re so worried about offending need to hear the Good News that Jesus died for them.  And the person you know with the hardest heart is someone who desperately needs Jesus.

Jesus was meek and gentle, and offensive to the people who rejected Him and His free offer of salvation.  He never backed down from telling the truth.  He is our Perfect Example, and like Him, we need to be ready to “offend” people with the truth.  But to do that, we’ve got to step out of our comfort zone.  We’ve got to give up comfortable Complacency.  We’ve got to pick up our cross and follow Him, even when that leads us away from family and friends.  And to do that we’ve got to trust God.

Here’s one last thought:  Have you ever read the list of the people who are going to hell in Revelation 21:8?  “But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars —they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur.”  Look who leads the list: not the murderers, not idolaters, but the cowardly!  Many times throughout the Bible we are encouraged to be strong, bold, and courageous.  Jesus said, “If anyone is ashamed of Me and My words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when He comes in His Father’s glory with the holy angels,” (Mark 8:38).

The Wild Life

The patriarch of my host family here in Hungary, Tibor, teaches earth sciences and is an avid naturalist.  There is a glass case in my room with a gem and mineral collection, including petrified wood, a shell collection, and a bug collection (I thankfully noted that they’re all dead).  Tibor had been teacher of the morning the day I arrived.  Unfortunately, I missed it because I arrived close to midnight.

Tibor likes to learn the English names for plants and animals.  The other day he approached me with a plant to smell—I knew it immediately: rosemary.  He brought me another one: basil.  But he stumped me on the third one, which I had never seen without flowers: oleander.  There are also several orchids around the house, and lots of flowers in the garden (where I discovered kittens first thing in the morning after I arrived).

There is a river that runs through their town, and just outside of town is the confluence of this river with another river.  He translated for me the names of the rivers: the Black and the White rivers.  He delighted to show me the rivers at their confluence and the river dam, where the fishing is good on the spillway and the dammed part is good for motor boating.  I saw several holes in the ground as we walked back to the car, and asked about them.  When I see holes in the ground, I think “snakes.”  But Tibor said that they are mole holes.  Given the large number of holes, I think moles are far more likely than snakes.

At the Summer Camp, where I’ve been helping out all week, there is another avid naturalist, Alexander.  Unlike Tibor, I think Alexander is strictly a hobbyist, but his passion for all things natural is obvious.  Since he doesn’t speak any English, Alexander had never approached me.  But since I have a curiosity about nature, I approached him.  Alexander brought an enormous telescope to church and had it set up in the yard during snack time.  It was equipped with a special filter for viewing the sun.  He showed me a book with a picture of sunspots and gestured at the telescope.  I looked through it and sure enough, there were several sunspots, just like in the book.

The next day Alexander brought a jar, and from it he produced a live bug about an inch and a half long.  He was letting the children touch and hold the bug (depending on their willingness).  I looked on, amazed as always at how children could touch something that I simply cannot bring myself to touch.  Seeing my curiosity, he approached me with the bug and held it out for me.  My body language made it obvious to him that I have a fear of bugs.  He tried to reassure me that it was harmless, and even if I had understood the words he used, it would have made no difference.  There’s something deep inside me, an ancient revulsion, that cannot be reasoned away.  I’ve faced all my other fears and conquered them all: flying, heights, public speaking.  But as much as I would like to conquer this last fear, there’s just something too ingrained to be overcome.

It’s not real, but real enough for me! EEEEEEEEK!

The following day Alexander came to me holding a bug that was four inches long—it was made of rubber.  He tried to get me to touch the rubber bug.  I couldn’t even touch it.  I understand that he was trying to help me overcome this unreasoning fear of bugs.  And I appreciate it, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch it.  He didn’t push it, but backed-off as soon as he saw that I couldn’t do it.  The bug had a suction cup on its belly, so he stuck it to his watch, and proceeded to show me other things he had brought: a plastic lizard, a wooden turtle, and several nature books.

The final day of Summer Camp, Alexander showed me several old calendars he had: calendars of Alaska, calendars of sea creatures, calendars of birds.  As he showed me page after page of wonders, he chattered as though I could understand.  What I did understand is both his passion for nature, and his kindness toward me and toward the children.

Last night Tibor had a surprise for me.  He took me to meet the town cheese-maker.  The cheeseman showed us how he makes the cheese.  He put a piece of aged cheese under my nose and was surprised to see how much I appreciated the smell.  I explained that I live in Italy, so I know that the stinkier the cheese is, the better it tastes.  He appreciated that.

Today there was a conference for the seniors of the church, at which Pastor H. Koraćs Gėza spoke.  I was told that I would have about five minutes to speak to them.  So of course I prayed about it, and here’s what I said:

Looking out here at all the gray hair, I am aware that many of you and your parents kept your faith in Christ under the oppressive rule of the atheistic Communists.  I have two things to say to you: First, I am deeply sorry that my country believed the lies of the Communists and did nothing to help you.  Secondly, I know that someday you will trade your silver crowns for gold crowns.  I am here to honor you for your faithful service to your Lord and mine.

To the young people here I say: learn from these elders, and share the love of Christ with everyone you know.

And finally, I would like to thank Pastor Gėza for coming.  It is an honor to meet you.

When Pastor Gėza returned to the platform, he observed that Christianity had actually flourished and grown under Communist oppression.  He said that Christianity now faces a far more dangerous enemy in the form of complacency.  I believe he’s right.

Tonight at dinner, Piroska, the matriarch of this family observed: today has been a day of spiritual cleaning.  Yes, indeed, it was!