Archive for September, 2006
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.
September 25th, 2006
Renee’ was able to find someone to cut her hair … and while he is not as good as our prior hair cutter (we miss you Bryan!) … I personally think this guy did a pretty good job!
September 25th, 2006
The morning I called to check on my Grandfather and learned that he was no longer with us, I had already done my Bible reading for the day. I am glad of that, because the verse I read that day has made me think of him often.
It has nothing to do with comfort or peace. It is not a psalm. It was an odd verse for a devotional book.
I Chronicles 27:30 - Over the camels also was Obil the Ishmaelite.
What a strange verse to find comfort in. What does that have to do with anything? Amy Carmichael, who wrote the devotion I read said this…
“God knows all about you and your difficulties, and your name is not forgotten by Him. He thought the name of a camel driver who lived three thousand years ago worth writing in His book. The names of thousands of great kings are buried and forgotten, but the name of (King) David’s camel driver is remembered to this day.�
I believe Obil was faithful. My grandfather didn’t drive camels. He drove a bulldozer. He drove it faithfully for many years. He did it because he loved his wife and daughter and grandchildren and wanted to provide for them. I never heard him complain about the long days or the heat or the cold. No matter how tired he was he was never too tired to spend time with me when he got home. He was never too tired to sit with me on the front porch swing and read to me or sing to me or to tell me stories.
I have learned so much from him and some of it, I am still learning even as I am 14 hours away right now when I want to be home. I learned to be faithful with the life God gives you. I learned the value of family. I learned that people are more important than things. Granddad was always ready to give even if it required sacrifice.
At Christmas, he was more interested in what he gave us than what he received. I know this, because most of the gifts we gave him, Mom and I had to clean out of the wardrobe when we went through some of their things a couple of years ago. They were still in the box.
But back to what I learned… Granddad was faithful, generous and loved sacrificially. He was a man of integrity. Bernie and I have said often that we hope we have half as much character as he does. I know my brother and sister-in-law felt the same way, because both of us named our sons after him, Jonathan Isaac and Jack.
The last gift Granddad gave me was once again his support. When I broke the news to him that Bernie and I were moving to a country he had never heard of to teach, he was so very happy for us. We were able to talk about what we would be doing in our new jobs. I know that he understood that would mean we would not be there with him when the end came. But as he has always done, his love for us sacrificially let us go without complaint, but with understanding and putting our needs before his own.
I don’t feel like my words have been adequate to describe my Granddad’s character, but Bernie said I would need to write a book to do that. So, I’ll just say I hope we can follow his example.
I think if King David had needed a dozer driver instead of a camel driver, his name would have been Jack.
September 15th, 2006
Disclaimer: this is a long blog. If you haven’t read my previous blog, you should read it first.
I shared in my previous blog the verse the Lord put before me on the morning of August 25th. Now, let me share with you the devotional readings from the previous two days. These readings are from “Whispers of His Power� by Amy Carmichael.
August 23
Luke 14:26: If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.
If any man come to Me, and hate not…That is the point that halts us. We must remember that here we have the Oriental idiom of sharp contrasts, and the word hate is used as the opposite of love. Our Lord was not claiming that we should have a malicious attitude of heart towards our loved ones, in order to be His disciples. He was facing the possibility of competition in loyalty with the things that He names.
He did not name a low thing, an ignoble thing. He was facing the possibility, which often occurs, of a conflict between that which is beautiful in itself and loyalty to Him. Nothing is fairer, finer, more beautiful in human life than love of father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brothers and sisters. Yet these fair things may, and often do, challenge our loyalty to our Lord.
Thus He was declaring that, if ever an hour strikes when there is a conflict between the call of the highest earthly love and the call of Christ, then there is only one thing to be done. We must trample across our own hearts and go after Him, without any compromise and any questionings.
August 24
Luke 14:27: And whosoever doth not bear his cross and come after Me, cannot be My disciple.
The taking up of the cross always means the emptying of the life of everything that is merely selfish in motive, and high things may become that. If there shall come a moment when a man has to choose between the call of Christ to sacrificial life and service, and the appeal of high and beautiful earthly affection, there is only one thing to be done according to the terms of Jesus. That is to follow Him.
He calls for much; He calls for everything. He calls for the march that may have no return and can have no compromise. He demands this loyalty because His enterprise is a crusade. Its method is that of the cross, and there is no other way. Because He goes that way, His disciple also must go that way.
So, for three days, the Lord is speaking to me of competing affections, of taking up a cross, of certain affliction. I had to trample across my own heart to leave friends and family behind in the US. Actually, it seemed more like a stampede.
On the evening of August 25th, after writing my previous blog, I received an email from my father telling me that they had taken my grandfather to the hospital. Tests revealed that he had a heart attack. He lingered for almost a week, with my parents, my brother’s family and many friends at his side. They were able to hold his hand and tell him they loved him. I knew when I told him goodbye when leaving for Mongolia in July that this time was coming and I would not be there. My secret hopes to be able to attend his funeral were not realized.
The beautiful love between a grandfather and granddaughter was not sacrificed. But the physical expression of it was not realized in this hour because Christ’s crusade for us at this time is in Mongolia. Every day in Mongolia a grandfather dies without ever having heard of the love of God.
Yes, I realize I have written another Kleenex blog – I have my own box at hand. Indulge me another moment, because there is a little more to this story. As I write this blog, there is a beautiful 17 year old Mongolian girl named Narah cleaning my home. While she cleans, she is singing along with Chris Tomlin, “Holy is the Lord, God Almighty� even though she doesn’t speak English. This is the song the Lord gave Bernie and I for Mongolia when we were here in 2003. I wish you could see her face when she sings with the praise team on Sundays. It is for Narah, it is for her grandfather, her family that we are here.
When I think of missing my grandfather’s funeral, it is still incredibly painful. In addition to that, we have received more painful news that our beloved dog, Chipper has cancer and is going to die soon (editor’s note: Chipper died this week. We are greiving with our friends, the Parnell’s - two families that Chipper had become such a part of) . But our God prepared my heart, has kept me and comforted me, and I know that this pain doesn’t begin to compare with the glory that will be revealed to us, to you, to Narah, to the Mongolians.
And now you know the rest of the story… at least what we know for now….
September 8th, 2006
Newsflash: September 7, 2006. We woke up this morning to our first Snow in Monoglia. Last night it was crystal clear and cold (around 23 F) and this morning we woke up to a dusting of snow on the ground. It was beautiful - and like most of the snows we have known in our 17 years in Tennessee - it was mostly melted by the time we finished language classes at 12:30. I know permanent snow fall iscoming. Nevertheless, we thoroughly enjoyed it. These are scenes from our apartment - not quite a “Winter Wonderland” - but, hey - it’s only September.
September 7th, 2006