The Christmas season that is upon our family is definitely a different one for us. Renee’ and I have been married for 17 and a half years now, and while our tradition has not really been set in stone in any sense, we do tend to do the same general things each year. My years as a pastor in Franklin meant that our activities at Christmas time were somewhat determined by the church’s Christmas schedule. So some years Christmas Eve was spent at Renee’s parents, some years it was spent at home with our church family. A few times we had family with us over the holiday. While there was some variety over the years, we still generally spent the season with people that we love. We were always intentional to make Christmas about Jesus – a difficult thing to do when the Advent adverts begin sometime shortly after the fourth of July. Fantastic memories and helpful family tradition has developed over the years. Christmas has always been about being with the people we love and Jesus. I’ve been pleased with the results.

This year everything changes. The people that we have always spent the holiday season with are now a bit further than an afternoon’s drive away. People who have spent their lives working in an overseas context know this experience well but it is a very new experience for us. Frankly, we have been feeling the strain of distance from friends and family since thanksgiving. Cori had a birthday the other day, and while her grandparents were able to watch her open some Birthday presents over Skype – it doesn’t seem quite the same. It isn’t quite the same.

This year Christmas can not be about being with the people we love and Jesus. This year, it’s just about Jesus because the people we love are thousands of miles away.

It is a little bit ironic that “gathering with family” has become such a significant piece of the Christmas holiday come to think about it. Jesus left his family to come to earth. I am a firm believer that the incarnation is all about missions and, conversely, missions is all about incarnation. The message of grace could only be known and received when Christ left heaven and all that was beautiful there. He became one of us. He had to be born in rather unseemly and difficult circumstances. He lived with us. God lived in human flesh and ate human food and breathed human air. He died as one us. It’s a bit overwhelming to think about, really.

We are going to miss our family and friends this year. We already do. We know that Christmas is not about Santa Claus (I wrote about that last year). However, this Christmas we are finding that it’s not even about gathering with family and friends, as beautiful and Christ exalting as that can be.

It’s all about incarnation. It’s His cross-cultural grace proclamation and his continued presence with us – Emanuel.

I am going to close this rambling blog with two thoughts.

One: We really do miss all of you and will be praying for you – that you will know the presence of the One who was born to die this season of incarnation. We wish we could there (or even better – that you could be here!)

Two: The words of Nate Saint express what I’m wanting to say here better than I know how to put into words

“As we have a high old time this Christmas, may we who know Christ hear the cry of the damned as they hurtle headlong into the Christless night without ever having a chance. May we be moved with compassion as our Lord was. May we shed tears of repentance for these we have failed to bring out of the darkness. Beyond the smiling scenes of Bethlehem, may we see the crushing agony of Golgotha. May God give us a new vision of His will concerning the lost – and our responsibility.”

Merry Christmas to all of you …

No football. No Turkey. But it was fun and memorable, all the same. We had Thanksgiving supper with Narah and Boldoo. We all enjoyed whole roasted Chicken, dressing, mashed potatoes, canned cranberries, and a “real” Pumkin pie. I even picked up a special treat for our dog Sadie at the market this afternoon. Can you find it in this picture?

Here is Sadie enjoying here treat:

Narah and Cori gave Jonathan a hard time by singing “Frosty the Snow Man” in his ears. You can tell he really loves it.

Narah and Sadie are now quite good friends. It’s fun to listen to Narah fuss at and scold Sadie in Mongolian. Sadie just loves her. Narah helped Renee’ to prepare the meal and even helped clean up the kitchen. Sadie did not help so much.

Renee’ made a pretty good list of the things we are truly grateful for in her Blog below. I just wanted to add a few more things – some quite similar, some a little different, all can be found in our newsletter. We are so glad to know where every gift comes from.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.
(James 1:17 ESV)

-The boxes we have received (right now we only need three more and they’ll all be here!)
-Youth Group for MK’s in UB
-A nice place to live
-Technology that enables us to stay in touch with friends and family (Skype)
-Our puppy Sadie (when she stays out of the trash and doesn’t bite while we’re tying our shoes)
-New friends and colleagues
-Guitar lessons (for Jonathan)
-New beginnings
-Chocolate
-Our new Mongolian friends, Baldoo and Narah
-A new coffee house 100 meters from our home
-Weekends and other breaks from school
-A relationship with God based on the blood and cross of Christ and not on how well one is doing in language study
-The fact that we can be together as a family
-The climate (cold weather with low humidity)
-God’s gracious years of preparation
-Friends at home who are faithful prayer partners

Thank you all for partnering with us!

This is my language helper/conversation partner, Jonathan’s guitar teacher and one of our new Mongolian family friends. His name is Boldoo. He’s 20 years old. He’s been a Christian for maybe a year. He is an incredibly gifted musician, and is here in UB studying music at a University. He is a Piano student, but can play guitar, drums, violin, and the Mongolian Horse Fiddle.

Last night I met with Boldoo at a little Mongolian “fast food” place called “Indra’s Food Planet”, located just around the corner from our apartment. I was prepared with workbook in hand and my topic that we were going to discuss. Today’s topic happened to be a very important one for Mongolian Culture: His family. I was looking forward to asking Boldoo about his countryside home (his family is from just north of the Gobi Desert). Boldoo showed up a little late, but it was no problem. We ordered food (both of us ate for less than $3 American. That’s both – not each) and started to talk. I asked him about his family (in Mongolian, of course). I was not surprised by what he told me. However, I was deeply saddened. Boldoo’s father left his home 13 years ago. He said his father is “nothing”, he’s gone. His mother raised four boys and a girl on her own. There were other men – but they were not fathers. They were users and manipulators of his mother. Today, Boldoo’s youngest brother is still at home with his mother. Another younger brother is in prison for thievery. His family – which is such an important value in Mongolia – is fragmented and scattered. Boldoo told me that his life is hard, and he often cries for his mother (who has nothing) and his brother who is in prison.

I wanted so much to comfort him. For some reason when we were talking last night, the imagery of diamonds came to mind. I wanted to tell Boldoo that God makes his children into diamonds by putting them through the pressure chamber of difficulty and hardship. I want him to know that he is a diamond and that God is making him into the glittering, dazzling, Christ-exalting, God-glorifying image of Jesus. I wanted him to know that God has purpose for him and for his life. I wanted him to know that Jesus sees and cares and knows what it is to be rejected, even for a time by his own father. Jesus knows, cares and loves. I want Boldoo to know that. My heart breaks for him and I want to walk with him in his pain.

But if you’ve read below, my snowball isn’t that large yet. Thankfully, Boldoo knows a little English. So with much effort – and a handy Mongolian-English dictionary, we were able to go a little beyond simple questions and answers about family. However, I long for the day that we will be able to walk with people like Boldoo in a free and effective way. Because unfortunately, Boldoo’s story is not uncommon in this country. There is a brokenness here. Boldoo’s brokeness is just one example of why I want to take the time to make this snowball. It’s worth it.

Your name and Your renown are the desire of our souls.

One of the main things I’ve learned in our first three months in Mongolia is the fact that language learning is an extensive, laborious process which requires marathoner endurance and gymnast strength. I’ve decided that for the English speaker (at least for this English speaker), learning Mongolian is kind of like attempting to make a snowball out of powder-dry snow. You grab a large scoop of snow in your hands and work with it, and work with it. The majority of what you scoop up doesn’t stick and falls to the ground. After a great deal of time and effort – a little bit does stick and you have a very small ice ball to hold on to. So you reach down and scoop up more snow (some that you already possessed, but had fallen off – some new) and continue the process all over again.

There are several nuances to the Mongolian language that I will share here. Most will probably find this rather dull – a couple of our readers may be interested. However, before we left the States we were asked a lot of questions about the Mongolian language. Here are few factoids that may be of interest.

There is quite a bit of difference between the written and spoken form of Mongolian. While this is generally true of all languages, it seems to be obviously true to this language learner. The written form seems to be very precise and specific in relating meaning, grammar, etc. While the spoken form carries the same meaning – it sounds quite different to what is written. For example, to write “I am Buying Milk” would look something like this (I don’t have Mongolian Cyrillic font on my computer):

Cyy abch baine

However, this would be pronounced something like this:

Soo avchin

This is just a small example of how different the written form can be from the spoken form of this language.

Mongolian Grammar is rather complicated for the English speaker. We are currently learning the eight possible cases for nouns. We will begin learning the variety of verb forms after Christmas. There are no prepositions. They are replaced by post-positional endings tacked on to a word. So you would say “at my home” by tacking two different endings on to the word for “home”. The order of words in the sentence is also very different than English. The verb is always at the end of the sentence. The subject is first (like English), but after that comes the direct and/or indirect objects – which are kept straight with endings, not necessarily word order. Modifiers are also thrown in there, as well. Keeping it all straight is quite different – and difficult – for the English speaker.

The group is more important than the individual in Mongolian culture and this is seen in the language. You would never say “I am going to my school” in Mongolian. It’s not “your” school. It is “our school”. It’s not “my friends”, it is “our friends”. In fact – the strangest one to me is that even a spouse is grammatically referred to as “our husband” or “our wife”. (Just so there’s no question – there is no polygamy here!) The thing that I find interesting is that the language reflects a group value that seems to be quite important in this country.

Nature and family are also important subjects. There are literally hundreds of ways to describe a horse. The mountains and the sky and the “countryside” are important concepts in language and song. Even people who live in Ulaanbaatar and rarely leave the city hold a high sense of value and respect for the Mongolian countryside. The language often reflects this, as well. Mongolian songs also speak often of the family. The “ger” (also the Mongolian word for “home”) is incredibly important to the overall culture of Mongolia. I think one of the most interesting words I have learned is the word “Golumt” (my very poor transliteration). There’s not really an English equivolent. It means the place (physical place) where your family lives. Traditionally, the Mongolian golumt is very important to maintain. It’s a concept that some in American culture could relate to. Renee’s family has been in the same place since she was very small. She can go home to a place that she knows and remembers. Most of us Americans have moved around the country enough for this to be a very unfamiliar concept. However, it is a very important one to Mongolians in general.

I know this has probably been a boring read for most of you who have made it this far. However, I wanted to share with you some of the things we are attempting to get our minds around. Pray for Renee’ and I as we go through the incedibly tedious process of making a Mongolian snowball. Pray for the others on our team in this process, as well. Everyone on the team has a bigger snowball than we do. However, no one is ready to make a snow man, yet.

Here is a picture of our Mongolian language teacher (our “baxsh”). Her name is “Tuul”. Her daughter’s name is “Mongol-Jin”. This means “Mongolian Princess”. At this gathering we had just finished our first cycle of study and testing. Renee’ and I were somewhat pleased that we could almost communicate with a two year old. Almost.

We love living in the city. The bustle and pace of UB suits the bustle and pace of the Anderson family. There is constant motion; always things to do and places to go. We have the conveniences that many others who live in this country do not share. Our apartment is very close to the center of the city. The nice thing about living at the city center in the capital of Mongolia is the fact that in 45 minutes we can be out in a pristine countryside setting and witness the ancient lifestyle of nomadic herders living in gers (felt tents that many Mongolians call home), managing their heads of livestock (sheep, goats, horses, cattle and camels). In the meantime, Jonathan is watching an NFL football game on cable television even as I type. We truly count ourselves blessed in so many ways.

Of course, lest I paint you an overly rosy picture of city life – there is a dark side to this city (as with every city) that is always before us, as well. Pollution, traffic, trash, poverty – we have it all, just like any large city in the world. There is one issue that I find more perplexing than any of these. The streets of Ulaanbaatar are littered with homeless children. They range in age from 2 and 3 years old to older teenagers. Life on the street in Ulaanbaatar poses unique challenges to those without food or shelter. Extreme weather conditions and a poor economy make it quite difficult for these kids. In the summer time, you can find these children all over the city begging for money and food. As obvious foreigners, we stand out as easy and obvious targets.

“Money? Money?” When no money is handed out, the next request is “Food? Food?” Then they sort of run together. “MoneyFood? MoneyFood?” Any restaurant or food store that is frequented by foreigners will usually have one to several of these kids hanging around outside – trying to sneak inside so they can beg money from the foreigners. The photograph above is one such child (I gave him a bag of peanuts and he allowed me to photograph him). Some of them are more creative in their begging tactics. Some will sit on the sidewalk and sing a doleful sounding Mongolian lament, hoping that passers by will place a few hundred turugs (worth about a dime) in the upturned hat strategically positioned in front of them. Some of them can be quite pesky, persistent – even downright obnoxious. Local shopkeepers are rather intolerant (we watched one waiter actually take a swing at the kid in the picture this afternoon). Locals are indifferent. Foreigners are uncomfortable. The kids are really just hungry.

In reality they are more than hungry. They are grimy, undisciplined, unruly and delinquent; without any sort of order or care in their lives. All that parents and a home provide for children are utterly absent in these kid’s lives. They really never have a chance to be children. From the moment they start out on the street, they have to grow up quickly because they somehow have to fend for themselves like adults, not like children. Look in the eyes of the kid in the picture. He’s 12. He looks 32.

Now that the days are getting cooler in the City of Ulaanbaatar, the fight for survival becomes even more serious. When the bitterly cold Siberian air hits, these kids move from the streets to the sewers. The only shelter they will find from the intense chill is under the streets where the hot water pipes keep things at hot and humid summer-time temperatures. In fact things can get so warm that they will have to come up into the cold for relief from the underground heat. You can imagine the kind of illnesses that result from extreme temperatures and underground filth.

Frankly, we find the whole scenario disturbing. It’s a need that no single person or organization can possibly meet in an adequate manner. A few are trying. But it will not be enough. However, these children do provide me with motivation to work hard at language learning, and to stay on my knees in prayer. The church is what will ultimately meet needs like this in a powerful, effective, holistically life-changing manner. As we will eventually work to help equip the church to live and walk in the power and priorities of Jesus, I fully believe that we will see these needs being met – orphans and widows will experience care from the church and the power and glory of God will be seen those who live in this city. It is then that He will indeed be famous in Mongolia. The battle is His. The praise is His.

In the meantime we will press on to learn this strangely beautiful and difficult language. We will hold on to every promise of God. We will make as many relationships with these lovely people as we can. We will live here for His renown.

I pray you will continue to join us in this quest.

I also ask that you look at this young man’s face and remember to pray for the street/sewer kids in Ulaanbaatar.