Most of my close friends know that my least favorite chore is laundry. When we get to heaven, I really have a bone to pick with Eve. Pain in childbirth and laundry – I’m not sure which consequence of the fall is worse. The childbirth pain is rough, but it doesn’t last more than a couple of days at the most…and it results in more laundry.

Doing laundry is such a long process and the further you get into the process the worse it gets. I don’t really mind the sorting part – that’s kind of like a game. Then the machine part isn’t so bad. But when you get to the folding and putting away, that’s just no fun at all. Probably the worst of all is the socks. I might enjoy the matching part if there was always a match. It seems like ever since I left home as a college student I have had a “sock bag.” The sock bag is the place where the socks with no mates go. Sooner or later some of them turn up. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure there are socks in my bag that has been waiting for a mate since those college days.

I’ve learned something since moving here. The explanation I have always heard is that the socks actually go missing in the dryer. Like there is some kind of black hole there or a mysterious suction device that snags them up never to be seen again. Perhaps they are hanging out with all the emails that have ended up in cyberspace somewhere instead of the intended mailbox. I have proved that is not true. How do I know? Well, primarily because we don’t have a dryer. We hang our clothes on racks to dry. Yet in the last two years, socks have been disappearing at an exponential rate. So maybe the washing machine has actually been absorbing the socks, but shifting the blame to the dryer. We have one of those, so it could be a possibility. Of course, just because I find socks between the couch cushions and under the shoe rack doesn’t mean anyone should take personal responsibility. But to be fair, I must share the conclusion that the dryer definitely has gotten a bum rap.

(This is our current dryer. The photo above is the dryer we wish we had…)

Bernie has been encouraging me to write a new blog, but I haven’t really had very much inspiration until yesterday. I read the blog of a friend in the same situation, who ended up with a positive pregnancy test (congratulations Kellie) to blog about. So, in a panic, I decided I had better come up with something, inspired or not. I’m going to take the thoughts that have been swirling around in my head and see if I can make some sense of them. The common thread that seems to run throughout them is “Perspective.�

Last Tuesday found Jonathan and I spending the first half of the day in the Korean hospital here in UB. From the day he was born, Jonathan has only seemed to have one gear, and that was full speed ahead. That hasn’t changed, and it is that kind of energy that pleases his P.E. teacher immensely. This past Monday, his shoulder took the brunt of that drive in a game of American football. The result is (we think) a contused muscle, and fortunately not a break (we think). So, after successfully maneuvering through the language barriers of the Mongolian system and a Korean doctor we left with four shoulder x-rays, a donated sling, three days worth of medicine and a receipt for our insurance. The whopping total for all this was $43.34.

In our mind, that is quite the bargain. In the US, that would cover the co-pay and possibly the medicine (generic only). It’s hard to imagine that you can get an x-ray for $10. Where perspective comes in is if you look at this from the point of view of, for instance, our language teacher. Her monthly salary is $100. One x-ray would be 10% of her living expenses for the month. Our entire bill would be almost half of her monthly salary.

Three of the past four Bible studies I have taught the girls in our church have required me to look at things from a different perspective. Take, for instance, the story of Abigail, Nabal and David in 1 Samuel 25. David makes a simple request of Nabal. We took care of your sheep; please share some of your food with us. Nabal refuses and David blows a fuse. He has 400 men take up their swords to go and deal with the man. It seems a bit like overkill, doesn’t it? Why in the world is David acting so irrationally? Well, as I backed up a bit, he had been anointed king but not able to take his throne, killed a giant that had terrified everyone else, been chased across the country and slept in caves, and then just prior to this, his mentor, Samuel dies. When you look at it from that perspective, his irrationality becomes quite understandable.

Previously, in 1 Samuel chapter one, I saw the same lesson. Two women married to one man. Hannah is a beautiful picture of what a godly woman should be. The other wife, Peninnah, seems mean and spiteful. It is easy to pass judgment on her. On the other hand, every woman desires to be loved by her husband. She knew she was his second choice. He had probably married her to produce children. Even the most sweet-tempered woman is going to be strained in that situation. That doesn’t justify her behavior, but it helps us understand it. Perspective.

God seems to be teaching me a little something about perspective when it comes to other people. Being the black and white person that I am, I confess that I tend to rush to judgment. Right is right and wrong is wrong. Period. But judgment without perspective more often than not leads to judgment without compassion. I find myself in good company here. Or at least, company. This was the standard operating procedure of the Pharisees.

An older Southern Baptist preacher, Vance Havner, was a favorite of mine. He had a sermon on this. He would say, “Right in the facts; wrong in the conclusion.� It’s easy to be right and wrong at the same time. That was the Pharisees. They expected Jesus to operate "by the book".

Jesus came in such contrast to them. When they expected Him to agree with their assessments, He surprised them by showing compassion. It is so easy to look at fellow believers and accurately determine how they should behave based on Scripture. What is harder to do is to show compassion when they fail to act according to our expectations. This happens all the time in the church. The Apostle Paul calls us to the task of “bearing with one another with love� (Ephesians 4:2).

It’s not as easy as it sounds. A happily married woman with two children is going to have a different perspective from the 16 year old girl with a baby and no husband. Or the woman who has been married for 20 years and was never able to have children. When they don’t live up to my expectations of what Christian should look like, what then? Do I rush to judgment? Perhaps I can feel sympathy for them. But will I take the time and the energy to step back and consider their perspective and bear with them in love?

Jesus declared of Himself: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because he anointed me to preach the Gospel to the poor. He has sent Me to proclaim release to the captives. And recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are downtrodden.� As long as there is a church remaining on this earth, it is our place to continue that mission. The challenge is when some of those people are in our churches. It’s hard and it’s messy and it would be so much easier to write them off (judged and sentenced) than it is to press on with compassion.

When you think about it, the only ones that weren’t recipients of Christ’s compassion were the Pharisees. He had a different perspective. That is the perspective I want to learn to take. Maybe, just maybe, God is working in me to make me less like a Pharisee and more like His Son.

“I have fought the good fight. I have finished the course, I have kept the faith”
(2 Timothy 4:7)

Surely this is a verse that every believer in Christ hopes to be able to say as they complete their race. If we are honest, our failings keep us from making any prideful assumptions, only an understanding that it will be but by God’s magnanimous grace.

It is a comfort to know that God uses earthen vessels, but use us He does, and it is His desire to continue to do so to the end of our days. Will we let Him to the end? Can we put aside thoughts of our last years being a time that is spent for ourselves?

While it is easy to look at men who laid down their young lives for God’s kingdom (such as Jim Elliott or Nate Saint) and be challenged by their dedication, it is even more challenging to consider lives lived faithfully over the long haul. Let me share a quote from my Beth Moore Bible Study this week as been ringing in my ears.

True God-seekers do not outlive their usefulness. If we’re still here, God’s still working.

Bernie and I have been challenged and encouraged over the past years by a dear brother from our days at the Evangelical Institute. Don Rulison, along with his wife Kathy, served God in China until the communist regime forced them out. They continued their service for many years to the Hmong refugees in Thailand until Kathy’s cancer led them to return to the US. We were so thrilled to receive his letter a couple of years ago saying that He was returning to Thailand. While he would have every worldly reason to retire and enjoy his leisure in the comforts of the US, he chose to seek his joy in His King’s service.

Today we received his October prayer letter encouraging his supporters to pray for those who faced persecution. At 92 his eye is still on his Reward. His closing statement,“I don’t know if or when I shall send another update” was bittersweet. He has chosen not to have invasive heart surgery.

We feel privileged and honored to have known this man whose eyes were never far from the harvest fields. May God give us grace to follow his lead.

Nine Christmas parties and two New Year’s parties later, tonight we officially wound up Christmas. Here’s a recap of what this past month has held.

Bernie had the privilege of leading the Christmas Carol Candlelight Service with the small International Fellowship that meets once a month for communion. It was nice to forget for a little while how few of us here really celebrate as we sang the carols that are very precious to all of us.

Renee’ had a wonderful time with about twenty other ladies at a Women’s Christmas Party. Someone even brought stuffed mushrooms that almost tasted like Grammy’s.

Bernie, Renee’ and Cori enjoyed an International Christmas Dinner with other friends from the mission community here. Jonathan hung out with friends.

We hosted three Christmas Open Houses this year. The first was with our teammates that were able to make it into the city. We had this a bit early as Nghia and Anhoa Pham and children were going to be spending Christmas with his family in Vietnam. They were concerned for his mother’s health as she had suffered a stroke in August. Our prayers go out to their family, because in spite of his mother’s condition, his father preceded her into the presence of the Lord just after the New Year began.

The second was with our school. Last year we only invited classmates and our two teachers. This year we were a bit braver and invited the principle, the dean of students and the school cook. We invited 12 people and they all attended. They were a bit unsure about the interesting food, but after watching Jeff and Jonathan mound their plates full, they finally took the plunge and tried everything.

The third was with the youth group and we had a living room full of teenagers eating and playing games and sharing White Elephant gifts.

The Saturday before Christmas Bernie, Renee’, Cori and her friend Honorah went to Darhan for a Christmas celebration with the Mongolian church leaders. That evening we had a dinner with the rest of our team.

Details about the Christmas program at church can be found on a previous blog. Christmas Eve we introduced the church to a Candlelight service where we lit the Christ candle of the Advent. There weren’t many of us, but it was a special time and everyone had a sense of His presence. We even shared our family favorite Christmas song ‘Born to Die’ for the first time in Mongolia.

Christmas morning the cinnamon rolls turned out perfectly and were followed by a time together emptying our stockings. We confess to some disappointment that all the presents that had been ordered weren’t at the Post Office when Bernie made one last ditch effort late that afternoon. We had a nice dinner that evening with Dennis and Marilyn and Kirsten Hewitt.

New Years Eve we spent at the Maves? singing Happy Birthday to Miriam Liberda, who turned 2. We finally convinced her to blow out the candles, but she didn’t seem to be very happy about it.

New Year’s Day saw Bernie, Jonathan and two friends from language school learning Jonathan?s new game “Puerto Rico” while Renee’, Cori and our friend Shauna taking a walk in the freezing cold to the movie theater. Rumor had it that there was an American movie showing. The rumor turned out to be true, but unfortunately it was sold out.

While walking home, we stopped by the store. It seemed strange that they had boxes stacked in front of liquor aisle, especially on New Years. It made sense when we read the headline of the UB Post the next day. 12 people have died and over 100 were hospitalized by drinking poisoned vodka.

This is an interesting side note. As a result, all liquor sales in the country have now been banned indefinitely. It is amazing to be out at night. The streets seem deserted. Traffic is manageable and crime is down significantly. Bernie’s teacher’s husband is a police officer and they are all delighted at the change it has made in their jobs.

The next day the Christmas decorations came down and were stored for next year. And today, not only did Bernie’s new computer arrive with the short term team from California, but there were slips for five boxes containing our Christmas presents. Yeah!!!

So, that?s it in a nut shell. Hope this newsy blog hasn’t bored you too much. The only way the holidays could have been better would have been if all of you could have joined us.

Yesterday our student church here had their Christmas program.  We were very proud of them for all the hard work they put into it, from the decorations to the dances to the food.  There was one quite amusing drama where they did the nativity as if Jesus had been born in modern day Mongolia.  Because the taxi driver couldn’t find the hospital, Jesus was born in the back seat of his cab (at least that’s what we think happened since the bundle sort of magically appeared and our Mongolian wasn’t good enough to follow).  The shepherds were replaced by three business men and the three wise girls communicated by cell phone.  All in all, it was a fairly realistic depiction because hospitals are hard to find, you spend a lot of time waiting in taxis because of traffic and everyone here has a cell phone.

The program which was supposed to begin at 3:00 was about 30-45 minutes late.  We finally left at 7:15 before they got to the food.  The most interesting thing we learned was a result of the late start.  We had to wait because the Hindu group that had rented the building in the previous time slot went overtime.  When we learned that the room had been used for some unknown ritual, the leaders spent time in prayer asking God to “clean upâ€? after that event. 

To help you understand, you will need a bit of a Mongolian lesson (welcome to our life).  There are two words used for the pronoun “you.â€?  The first one is “ta.â€?  This is used for persons older than you or in positions of respect (bosses, leaders, teachers, etc.)  If the person is younger than you or in a position under you, you use the term “chee.â€?   Undraa always corrects us, because we often slip and call her “ta.â€?  At 23, she doesn’t want to be called that by a couple of old folks like us.  She calls us “taâ€? because we are both older and her employer.

When you are praying, God is always referred to as “Ta.â€?  You probably would have assumed that.  However, when Dawgee prayed to stand against the devil, she used the word “chee.â€?  What a great picture of our position in Christ.  Even though Satan has been around since before Adam and Eve, because we are in Christ he is a “chee.â€? 

As we go through our Christmas festivities, we can remember that this is a fulfillment of Genesis 3:15.  The baby is Eve’s promised child that will bruise Satan’s head.  So when the devil is roaring about, trying to make you think he is a lion, remember that he is just a “chee.â€?

Today we attended our school’s Christmas/New Year’s party. After last year, I knew a bit more what to expect. There would be lots of food from every nation. The Mongolian teachers would put a huge bowl of potato salad in the middle of the American student’s table. That is an important part of their celebrations, so it goes on every table, regardless. Each nationality/group is expected to participate with some song, dance or reading.

Then while we eat, they will play the Abba song “Happy New Year� over and over and over again until we are finished. The Koreans will only eat Korean food and the Mongolians will only eat Mongolian food and the Americans and Europeans will share their food. The start time is scheduled for 11:00 a.m. which means that is when everyone will arrive. Then it will take about an hour to set up, so we will actually start at 12. At three o’clock, when we can’t listen to that song one more time, we’ll find a way to slip out while everything is still going strong.

At 11, everyone began arriving, so things were starting as expected. Surprisingly there was no potato salad – on any table. Perhaps after they had 7 huge bowls left over last year, they realized not everyone shares their affinity for it. Again, surprisingly everyone was set up and ready to roll by about 11:30.

After last year, we didn’t really think anything could surpass the African priest and the Columbian nun doing the bump and grind, but we underestimated the Mongolian student’s creativity in pulling off a nativity scene. To the left of the stage was Mary, stunning in hot pink, holding baby Jesus with no Joseph in sight. In center stage was a man and woman. He was wearing a crown, so we assumed he was Herod.

Three very attractive Mongolian students entered, carrying staffs (I think) and gifts. Another Mongolian girl holding a large silver star went and stood behind Herod. The three wise girls, in their 7 inch high stiletto boots followed the star and stood before Herod. Then after a brief two-step to the tune of “Jingle Bells� they again followed the star that had by that time moved behind Mary and the baby. With much difficulty, they knelt in front of the baby (stilettos aren’t conducive for kneeling).

At this point, Mary arose with the baby Jesus and proceeded to dance, lifting the bundle up to the sky. So far, still not too far off base. It was hard not to chuckle, when she put the baby Jesus down and began to dance, in turn with each of the wise girls. Okay, maybe that could have happened, right? Where it went beyond any feasibility was when Mary went to Herod’s throne and convinced him to dance with her also. So, you have Mary and Herod dancing while his wife, the star and the three wise girls watched.

Unfortunately, as is too often the case, the baby Jesus was totally forgotten, alone in His manger, while all around him were lost in their festivities. It was one of those situations that was at the same time funny, but heart-tugging.

After that, most of the talent offerings didn’t venture far from the unexpected. We heard Silent Night and Joy to the World in English, Mongolian, Korean, Thai, Finnish, Chinese and an unidentified African language. While not unexpected, it still thrills, to hear a small taste of what we will experience some day for eternity.

To our pleasant surprise, someone must have forgotten that Abba CD. And everyone flocked to our table and ate all our food. Everything was winding down and we checked our watches and it was only 1:30. So, once again we remind ourselves, that we should always expect the unexpected.

Last winter, my heart was always moved when the little street boys would come into the church service. They would sing and clap and totally engage in the service, but as soon as they sat down for the message, they promptly fell asleep. No one minded, really. They found a warm comfortable place. I knew that seeds were sown and that God could bring to mind the truths they heard in the songs and prayers and that they would remember His people who allowed them to feel safe and warm for an hour each week.

I confess to feeling a little differently last week. We are renting a new building and have purchased new chairs (probably not conducive for sleeping in). I confess that when they came in and sat their grimy, dusty little bodies in the new chairs I grimaced inside. When one of them leaned his dirty sleeve against the freshly painted wall, I confess I started wondering where we packed the 409. Until…

It was during the offering and Bernie leaned over to me. “Did you see that he (the little street boy sitting in front of us) put 20 tugriks in the offering?� I didn’t see, but now I can’t forget it. In the big picture, he gave the equivalent of 2 cents. But in his reality, if he had held on to that, only four more would have bought him a steaming hot hoshur for his hungry tummy. While I was enjoying the nice new facility, God was enjoying a heart that would give sacrificially.

It’s the same story Jesus told in Luke 21. When Jesus saw the poor widow put her small copper coins into the offering box, he told his disciples, “I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she put in all she had to live on.�

David also understood this. When it was time to build the temple, he said, “How can I give to the Lord that which costs me nothing?�

I find myself wanting to give in the same kind of environment the street boys want to sleep — the comfortable kind. Some weeks it is a struggle to offer the percentage that we have determined before the Lord to be our tithe. It’s going to make our grocery budget a bit tight. Or we might have to put off replacing our water boiler for another week.

I’m not only convicted about this on a financial level. I do the same thing with my time. I want to give to the Lord of my time, but I’m much more hesitant to give it up sacrificially. I can comfortably have a 20-30 minute quiet time. Anything longer than that, and it starts to cost me something. I might have to get up earlier, or not have time for breakfast. I want to give so much time in ministry, but not so much that it deprives me of my free time, or my family time.

It’s easy to put God on our calendar, or daytimer, or PDA or in our Outlook. It’s harder to give it all to Him and if He gives us some back, so be it. If not, perhaps He has found the same joy in our offering as He did from the widow and the street boy.

For the past few weeks, our UB team has looked at several buildings to rent or purchase. This search is becoming more urgent the longer we remain in the rented basement and smell the stench that remains after the upstairs bathroom overflowed dumping two feet of sewage into our “church.� Fortunately (I think), we are able to have our Sunday service upstairs in the theatre type room where the approximately 20 of us rattle around like marbles in a ten gallon jug.

But the sale of buildings isn’t really what is on my mind right now. It’s the sale of the soul of the people of Mongolia. Over the last few weeks we have had similar conversations with various people and this is the conclusion I’m coming to. There are many people in this country who are for sale to the highest bidder. How does that look, exactly?

The Mormons come in and build their big American looking facilities which appear very appealing with the dilapidated Soviet-style block apartments surrounding it. In a country with high unemployment and incredible poverty, curiosity is understandable. They take the bait and then are reeled in with offers of going to the States for a year to learn English.

For over a year, we have walked weekly by a large building in the center of town. It is very impressive looking. Now we are hearing that this building is going to be a Mosque. The Muslims have been coming into Western Mongolia in a similar way, offering free passage to Turkey. Now they are making their way to Ulaan Baatar.

Buddhism is also making its bid. There is an insurgence of monks coming to the city, even some whose Caucasian skin looks odd wearing the maroon and saffron colored garb. Their bait is patriotism, urging Mongolians to remember their heritage. Under Russian rule, they were not allowed to speak of their hero Chingis Khan, but now they are praying for his spirit to return to this land. They desire to be once again esteemed as a great nation.

Even among Christian organizations, there are difficulties. Many Mongolians equate foreigners with wealth. Some groups put the young believers on staff for a couple of years and then cut them off and expect them to “raise support.� Unfortunately, their churches and family don’t have the funds to do this and there aren’t enough foreigners to go around. Sometimes when the money stops, so does their commitment. Sometimes, not always.

So, what should our bid be? What do we use for “bait?� (Yes, I know I am mixing my metaphors.) It is tempting to make things easy. To talk only of the things God will do for them if they believe. But the bottom line is if we want to be His disciple, there is a cross to be taken up. Jesus required of the rich young ruler the sale of all that he had. There is a promise of tribulation and persecution. We will be hated by the world, not esteemed. (Luke 14:27, Luke 18:18-30, John 16:33)

We call them to delay their gratification. To live for a city whose founder and architect is God; to wait for our room in the Father’s house. In return we will know peace and joy. And Him.

So, the question begs to be asked, “Do we stop looking for a building?� No, not necessarily. We trust God for a building, not to draw them in with grandiose promises and a lure to live the good life here and now. We trust God for a building where we can offer a cup of cold water in Jesus name. Where we prepare them to live as sheep among wolves dressed as sheep. Where they can come for sanctuary when life is hard and waiting for heaven seems impossible. Where we can encourage one another and build each other up.

Jesus paid too high a price for these people to be sold to the second highest bidder.

For everything there is a season…a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4). Sometimes (now for us) these things happen simultaneously and that can be unsettling at best.

Saturday morning began for Jonathan as a time to laugh. As a matter of fact, that’s what woke us up. He had six friends here for his birthday sleepover (without the sleep, a misnomer for sure). Then I stayed home to feed the herd while Bernie represented our family at a wedding. We’re still not sure whether to laugh or cry about that one. If that leaves you confused, email us.

It was after the wedding that the tide turned. We had a farewell lunch with teammates, Jacob and Juhny Kim. They are returning to the States on medical leave and if/when they return is indefinite. We made an effort to keep it light.

In the late afternoon we caravanned to the airport where we were joined by several of the young leaders of our UB church. The time to cry could not be postponed any longer.

I once attended an Alliance Women’s Rally and heard one missionary testify “Good-byes suck.� That offended some people. If it offends you, please grant me a little grace. Because as I stood there and watched what went on around me, I frankly couldn’t come up with anything else to describe what was taking place.

• I watched Jacob and Juhny say goodbye to their spiritual children.
• I watched our team say goodbye to valued and needed co-laborers.
• Bernie and I said goodbye to precious friends who have been here for us as we struggled to adjust to a new way of life.
• I watched Jonathan say goodbye to the third friend since we arrived a year ago. He and Enoch were inseparable over the summer.
• I watched the Mongolian young men and women say goodbye to the man who for many was the closest thing to a father they had known.
• I watched Sauggy say goodbye to his mentor and friend and saw the weight of responsibility heavy on his young shoulders. I watched the uncertainty in their eyes as to what will happen next for their church.

So, this missionary family has learned the goodbyes of exactly one year ago were only a beginning, and have been told by many that one of the hardest things about missionary life is always having to say goodbye.

After two hours we were back at the airport. This time we were welcoming new workers, Brent and Lisa Liberda and their four children. Then again, this morning we were there to welcome our new MK school teacher, Kirsten. So for this we rejoice, we dance. Tonight Jonathan will go to yet another “sleepover”.

There is a sense of déjà vu’ as I write this. My first blog a little over a year ago ended with Revelation 21, and it seems right to encourage myself with words from this chapter again. This time, verse 4: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.�

What this means is that while on this side of eternity, our time may be divided between sorrow and joy. But when it’s all said and done, we’ll leave behind the weeping and we’ll leave behind the mourning. Then we’ll laugh and then we’ll dance. Until then….