A Cord of Three Strands

So I again considered all the oppression that continually occurs on earth.This is what I saw:
The oppressed were in tears, but no one was comforting them;
no one delivers them from the power of their oppressors. (Ecclesiastes 4:1 NET)

This sounds like something my mother would say. She’s always had a heart for the oppressed, an ongoing awareness of the many groups of people around the globe who suffer at the hands of other people or circumstances that bind and confound their existence. She’s not one of those people who whines all the time and then sits around doing nothing. No, my mother has always empathized with the pain of those in bondage and looked for ways to change situations and circumstances. And very often she does it…partnered with a husband who shares her worldview and her passion for justice.

As I write this, my parents are now halfway through a two-week visit to Sierra Leone to connect the people with whom they have been working for the past five years with some new partners to continue the effort. It occurred to me this morning that they have hit the halfway point so I know they feel they are in countdown mode to complete the tasks to be accomplished in this visit. (Translated: My mother’s probably going nuts!)

Then it also occurred to me that fifty years ago this month our family was halfway through a two-year assignment to Zambia as missionaries. Actually the assignment was to have been for four years, but it was cut short due to multiple illnesses within our family: malaria for my dad, severe versions of childhood illnesses among the three of us older kids, and a complicated pregnancy that almost killed my mother and my youngest brother in utero. So we were sent back home to the states after just two years overseas.

From 1966 to 2010, my parents planted churches, preached, taught in church and public school, worked in blue collar and white collar jobs, raised four kids and helped nurture more grandkids, and set golden examples of lives yielded to the power of the Holy Spirit.

But their hearts remained torn for the despair and oppression of the peoples of Africa. And they knew that their work there was not yet done. They longed to bring news of the Comforter to a people “oppressed in tears.”

Then 5 years ago my mother needed attention to a tear duct in her eye. She went to a doctor…a doctor who also worked with an eye clinic in Sierra Leone…an eye clinic needing help with its administration. Mother and Dad said, “Send us.”

In 2010, at 75 and 78 years of age, Mother and Dad went to Sierra Leone. They met a preacher there named Foday Koroma. Foday had been expecting them. Well, Foday had been expecting my dad. God had sent him a vision of an elderly white man who would anoint him for ministry and place a Bible on his shoulder in an act of ordination. So in their own ordination service, my dad prayed for Foday, laid his own Bible on Foday’s shoulder, and then gave it to him as a gift.

That was all it took for Foday to follow the Holy Spirit into what can best be compared to the ministry of Paul in the New Testament. He has covered the country around the Lunsar area in Sierra Leone in the name of Jesus, baptizing literally hundreds into the Body of Christ. His faith and boundless energy have made that end of the country a different place through the power and the glory of God.

Mother and Dad returned one other time a couple of years ago and through the past five years they have collected thousands of dollars through private donations for motorbikes (big thanks to Missionary Ventures!!), building supplies for churches and schools, housing materials for leaders, Sunday school teaching supplies, and other valuable materials. They also collected dozens of sewing machines for a women’s center to enable women to learn and begin an independent career…ending their physical, emotional, and financial oppression.

On this short visit, they are introducing Foday Koroma and some other leaders to Just Hope, International, an organization that will come alongside the local pastors and teachers and help them to continue the work in the area. This will allow my parents to take a step back and release the responsibility for ongoing accountability and leadership to another capable and compassionate team.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor:
If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.But how can one keep warm alone?Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. (Ecclesiastes 4:9-12)

Somewhere along the way as you’ve been reading this, your mind may have started wandering and thinking, Where is she going with this? Does she even have a point? She usually has a point, but I don’t see one here. I think she’s just rambling.

You’ve been such a patient and good reader to get this far, I’m just going to spell it out for you: We can’t go it alone. We need to be part of a “cord.” Not necessarily a marriage, but a group that works in partnership for support, encouragement, and accountability.

Verses 9-12 make it pretty clear: How can one keep warm alone? How can one give adequate defense against the invader or the oppressor or even the discourager?

After we returned from Africa in 1966, my parents were discouraged. They were beaten down. But they helped each other up. They defended each other against giving up. And it wasn’t just the two of them…the cord had a third member: the Holy Spirit renewed their passion, their fervor, and their commitment. They were not broken.

Fifty years later, they are completing a mission that began when they were only 29 and 32 years old. In the lives of many people now and many more to come, they have comforted those in tears and delivered many from the hand of the oppressor.

So see the tears.

Find the oppressed.

Join with others to become more than one.

Then allow the Holy Spirit to braid all of you into a cord so that you are never broken, discouraged, or defeated.

The world needs every one of us. May we respond to the needs…together!

Hezekiah 33:11

I’m taking a break today from my “journey” posts to address another issue…as I will do from time to time.

“God will never give you more than you can handle.”

You know where that’s found in the Bible? Hezekiah 33:11. In other words . . . NOWHERE! It’s not in there! Just read the book of Psalms. You’ll see that writer facing stuff all the time that he absolutely cannot handle.

But how many times have you been in the very depths of despair, absolutely covered up with piles of problems, wondering how in the world you’re going to get through it all . . . when some well-meaning brother or sister in the Lord comes along to promise you that God will never do this to you…certainly not more than you can handle. And that’s gonna make it all better.

Wrong.

In the first place, God doesn’t do any of this to us anyway. Life does. Or sometimes it’s a consequence of our own mistakes. But sometimes these things just happen because we live here on Planet Earth where things are just messed up. Cars hit other cars. Cancer abounds. Fire spreads quickly. Tornadoes drop down at the . . . well, at the drop of a hat. Finances fall short. And thousands and thousands of other tragedies slam into our lives and leave us stumbling around wondering what in the world we will do.

Years ago, I landed myself in an abusive marriage. The relationship went from bad to worse quickly and after a year and a half, I knew I needed to leave or I would lose my mind. So I moved into an apartment, paid the deposits from what little money I had for the rent, utilities, and water, and bought a couple of pieces of furniture I needed. I believed I would finally find peace.

The next Monday I went into work and my “eccentric” boss fired me on the spot, lying profusely for his reasons to do so. I had no choice in the moment but to take my personal items and leave, returning to my new apartment and experiencing a total meltdown.

I knew I couldn’t go back into the relationship I had finally escaped, and without a job I wouldn’t be able to keep my apartment. I believed I had followed God into a separation, although I had never thought I would be a divorced woman. I looked back and knew that I had gotten into the marriage in my own will, not God’s, so I didn’t believe it was his will for me to stay.

At that point, it was simply a matter of examining my options and putting my life in God’s hands. This was so much more than I could handle. So I picked up the phone and called my parents . . . my Godly, gracious parents. “Come home,” were their first words. (I’m weeping now, just remembering the love that overwhelmed me in those two words.)

I called my husband and told him I was going to have to leave and needed a divorce. He and I went downtown the next day and had a friend draw up a simple divorce. Then he and I loaded up a U-Haul truck with everything I owned, put my car on a trailer, and I left. He was the last person I saw in that town that day.

When I arrived in Nashville, I was welcomed with open arms by my loving parents who helped me put everything in storage while I stayed with them, paid off huge debts, and rebuilt my life enough to start back out on my own. All through the empowerment of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit.

I often imagine my life as a glove and the Holy Spirit as the hand that slips inside and makes the glove come to life. Without the Spirit, I am nothing but a limp rag, worthless and immobile. But with his empowerment and enabling, I am able to accomplish whatever I am called to do.

Life happens. God handles.