Archive for July, 2008
More to come on this, but here’s the statistical run down from Youth Camp (I know, I don’t like it when it’s just about the numbers, either - but I wanted to get something up this morning!):
1. 110 young people attended the first ever CAMA Mongolia International Youth Camp
2. 10 young people moved from being unbelievers to believers.
3. 90 Young people committed to “Running the Race” for God’s glory.
4. A 7 member Youth Council was selected from among the youth leaders for the purpose of encouraging and equipping youth leaders and planning future events for the CAMA Churches in Mongolia.
A fuller write-up and more photos to come!
(90+ Students committing to ‘Run the Race’)
(Friends from around the world)
(Fun and games, as well!)
(The First CAMA International Youth Camp!)
July 23rd, 2008
“Don’t you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry,
So just look at them and sigh and know they love you”
Crosby, Stills, Nash &Young
Today is July 13, 2008 and my Dad turns 60 today. Some people might be embarrassed and upset if their age was revealed in a public forum like an Internet blog. However, I don’t think my Dad has anything to hide. Whenever our Mongolian friends see pictures of either set of our parents, they are amazed at how young they look. So let that be of some comfort.
I want to dedicate this post to my Dad. I’ve been recently reflecting about the impact that my Dad has had on my character and on my life in general, and I find myself amazed and grateful. Here are just a few reflections, that I hope will honor him during the celebration of his 60th year of life on earth.
We weren’t necessarily a Christian family in the early days. It’s not that we were satan-worshiping, dance-in-a-loin-cloth-under-the-full-moon pagans. It was just a little later in our familial life that God had mercy on all of us. We did go to a couple of little churches on occasion. Both were of the hyper-fundamentalist sort that made guys with a bit of hair over the ear a little uncomfortable (sing: If your hair is too long, there is sin in yer heart…). Nevertheless, I learned a personal spirituality from my father that carries with me to this day. My Dad understood the importance of solitude and prayer, even before he knew the Jesus that he prays to today. Before and after he became a Jesus-follower, I still remember him spending hours in the front yard watering the trees. He wasn’t fooling us though. Sure he likes trees (to this day he likes trees). But all of us knew he wasn’t just watering trees. He was spending time with God. That value is one I still carry with me today.
I can remember being asked to pull the weeds out of the shrubbery that surrounded our house. It wasn’t a fun job. I remember having better things to do (but as I write this, I can’t for the life of me figure out what that was). So I did the job (more or less) and I went to Dad to see if I was finished. I asked the fatal question.
“Is it good enough?”
I learned an important lesson that day. I learned that if a job is worth doing, it’s worth doing well. Don’t do anything “good enough”. Do it well. That summer day pulling weeds out of the bushes was actually an important one for me. I am sure I did plenty of jobs only just “good enough” after that, but my conscience was forever formed that day. “Good enough” is never good enough. Today I put in Biblical terms. “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all of your might” Ecclesiastes 9:10. “Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men” Colossians 3:23. This has been invaluable to me. I know it’s probably a little mundane to talk about the fact that I learned my work ethic from my father. But the fact is that I did - and for that i am grateful.
I recently purchased a copy of Alex and Brett Harris’s book “Do Hard Things” for each of my kids. I am requiring them to read it over the summer while they are in the US. I actually learned the truth of how to ‘do hard things’ from my Dad. He allowed my brother and I the freedom to walk in that which was difficult. We watched him not shy away from that which is difficult. In a day and age when the movies and television caricaturizes so many men as gutless conflict avoiders and emotional/relational goons, my Dad stands far above all of those poor impressions of masculinity and has taught me what I know to be real courage, along with the ability do the hard thing - even when I don’t feel like it.
When I was young, I always knew that my Dad loved my Mom. I am not so naive as to think that they didn’t go through choppy waters that it seems every marriage must navigate through. But for me, as a kid, I never doubted their love for each other. I also always knew my place. Mom was first. Not my brother or me. While that goes against every politically correct formula for raising kids - it was right. We knew that if we hurt or offended Mom - then we hurt and offended Dad twice as much. He still loves our Mom today - coming up on 40 years later. I learned a lot from that more or less silent witness. I feel the same about my wife today.
I could go on. He showed courageous faith in Christ when he cashed in the life’s savings to follow what he knew to be God’s leading in opening a Christian Bookstore. My standards of customer service and management are fruits of a couple of good (and sometimes tumultueus) years working for him there. I’m still not a perfectionist (he is). But I sure have upped my standards for what I consider satisfactory work and planning. I am not a natural “planner” - but I learned to go against my natural grain of “let it happen when it happens” and to instead think through projects and plans in critical way. In my work as a pastor, planner, leader and now overseas Christian worker - this has been invaluable. He taught me how to play the guitar, how to appreciate music - and the value of listening to the Beatles, the Kinks, the Hollies and several other bands from the British Invasion.
As I sit here and think about it - in almost every area of my life - I am indebted to my father. I know that he would say, “it wasn’t me”. But I also know that I didn’t learn those things on my own. I hope that I leave half the legacy to my children that he’s left to me.
Dad just celebrated his 60th by successfully hiking to the bottom of the Grand Canyon (and more importantly back up again) with some Old High School friends, once again proving that he’s not afraid of the doing the hard thing.
So, Happy Birthday Dad. I hope your ‘season’ is peaceful.
Know that you’ve taught your children well.
July 13th, 2008
While Renee’ and I are running around doing various camps and receiving new team members here, our kids are hanging at the beach with Grandparents. This week’s photo update are a few shots of our Stateside kiddos. Cori has a fantastic sunburn (probably turned golden brown by now). Jonathan caught a 200 pound nurse shark. Yeah, a shark. We’re jealous. But we’re also going to be glad to see them again in just two weeks.
July 13th, 2008
Okay! Okay! I admit it. I am just going to have to come clean and I’m not doing a blog about my laundry again. Did I just hear some of you ladies give a big sigh of relief (Julie)?
I love a good crisis. You know how when you are driving down the highway and traffic is blocked in both directions, one side because of an accident and the other side because of the rubberneckers? I’m causing the problem. Not the accident, the other direction. I’ve now laid it all out there. I am a rubbernecker.
I loved it in the US when something would happen and it would go to 24 hour news coverage. While most desperate housewives were crying about their soaps, I was glued to the tube. If Lisa Patten ever retires from News 2, I will feel like I’ve lost a friend. We’ve tracked many storms together.
Now that I’ve made my true confessions, do you have any idea how hard it was for me to stay indoors the last four days? I wanted so badly to go check things out. I was really ticked when the Mongolian government forced the local TV stations off the air and I had to watch CSI Miami instead of the Mongolians throwing Molotov cocktails. Hey…Bernie was gone, the kids were gone and the dog was asleep. What else is a night owl supposed to do?
If my parents were aware of the riots at the time they were going on, they probably would be surprised to know I didn’t go check things out. I come by this honestly. When I was a little girl growing up in rural Tennessee, it was a big deal if the fire sirens went off. Those were exciting times. You see, my dad was the insurance agent for a large percentage of the town, and it was only right that he should follow the fire trucks and be there to assess the claims and assure his clients that they would be well cared for. Sometimes I got to go with him. Later when I was old enough to drive and hang out with friends, I would run into him there.
Here is a favorite Majors’ family story for anyone still reading. We took a family vacation through New England, including Hyannis Port, Massachusetts. For those of you over 35, you may remember a news story revolving around Senator Ted Kennedy, and the unfortunate death of a young woman at the Chappaquiddick River (if you don’t Wikipedia it). We had a rental car and had taken the ferry over (two of them if I remember correctly). We were in the area and decided to drive and see where this had taken place.
Now Nancy Drew (oops I mean me) immediately became suspicious when I saw that this river was about as deep as the water that stands in your driveway after a gulley washer. I wanted to drive across the bridge as well and see what was on the other side. My Dad, good sport that he is, thought that was a good idea. My Mom calmly pointed out the sign that said “Four wheel drive vehicles onlyâ€? which our rental wasn’t. I don’t remember if my brother took his nose out of his Hardy Boys mystery long enough to weigh in or not. Curiosity won out over common sense and we drove on over. We probably weren’t five yards from the bridge when we ceased all forward motion. There wasn’t any reverse motion either. The only motion I remember was my Mom’s lips saying “I told you so.â€?
Suffice it to say, we made the last ferry by the skin of our teeth after paying some guy money to pull us out with his winch. As it turned, you could see the thoughts turning as well, primarily something about stupid southerners and not being able to read. All I have to say about the matter is “What in the world was Kennedy doing that night?�
So…hopefully the calm that is over Ulaanbaatar is around for a while, but if you should see on the news that they are rioting again, don’t be surprised if you see a short, red-headed foreigner with a camera in the middle of the whole thing.
July 7th, 2008
So Friday’s Photos has to be about the big news in Mongolia this week. I was not in town when the tanks were in the streets. I wasn’t in town when the action was happening so I could not go down and get live shots (Renee’ was here, but she didn’t want to go down there by herself.) So here is a photo that Renee’ took yesterday as we were driving by the burnt out Mongolian People’s Revolutionary Party building.
You may read more about this in our latest “Remember Mongolia” Newsletter. You may also check out the write up over at CAMAMongolia.org.
Thanks for all of your prayers for us and our team. We’ll keep you apprised as things progress here.
July 7th, 2008