the only good writing is re-writing.... :)

Now if I can only remember my Trainer's Word, then I can keep my balance and actually inch forward..... (vance over a barrel)...

6/28/08

Yesterday was instructive. Some stress with editing, visions, and re-visions. The work isn’t yet done. But my course is different than any of the others. The other authors are doing their opinion of evangelizing to an Arab culture and selling it to the Chinese m-worker; or theology, or missiology, with one culture’s Bible being the same as the next. I’m a non-Chinese westerner trying to peddle USA psychology to Chinese missionaries whose answer to everything is scripture. Some of my teaching parables are 20 years out of date due to source info that comes from that era. Some of the teachings on imagery, breathing, journaling, therapy for moral failure, and techniques for money management is just a little too weird for them. A different kettle of fish from the other courses.

At one point the western administrator, who speaks Chinese, had to get me to leave the room so the editors, Chinese missionaries themselves, could feel free to speak without offending me. They have been taught not to contradict "the Teacher". So, once I back in an hour, they were all smiles, nodding, happy faces--and a complete revision of many chapters needed. So once I mastered my discouragement and need for complete adulation, I set to work the rest of the day and made some progress with one of their point people. The work as it is will go to the leaders, get new examples from many of their work, and then be woven back together in the fall.

At night, after the evening meal, another author and I took a cab across town to see a local circus. During this crazy 45 minute ride among high rise this or that, between meshing traffic chaoses, my colleague unloaded to the "resident shrink". Member care shows up unannounced in the weirdest places... Anyway, this was like drinking from a fire hose: Years of mistreatment as a worker from various agencies, no recognition for his academic work, summary dismissals, autocratic pronouncements, lack of funding or retirement savings, his whole family of six living out of suitcases for 15 months, cargo containers getting lost between Africa and Europe, psychological ills among himself, his wife and children, physical disabilities, addictions, PTSD from treating AIDS victims, elder care for his mother…. The list didn’t seem to end. I prayed, was empathic, and contained. He is close to my age and sees nothing much good in mission work, God, or his fellow man. sad to see him so unraveled.

I think I could and still can hear our great Enemy laughing. If not a belly laugh, a quiet sneer of contempt. This is no fault of my friend. If in his place I’m not sure I’d be able to rise up and take nourishment. It would be a struggle to put one foot in front of the other. I told him so. In spite of all that we enjoyed the circus—really amazing; http://www.clcircus.chimelong.com/. Reminded me of Cirque du Soleil. I think this kind of resilience, this ability to shift from tragedy to amazement, is the hallmark of not just as survivor, but a thrivor. A merry heart, medicine… you get the picture.

After some further editing work today, a little shopping, and then off to the airport. I leave here at 9 pm and get home at 6:30 pm the same day. Double dipping on Saturdays! Blessings to you all for keeping track of our adventures, growth, and trials. Bye.

notes from bethyl--back in So Cal

It’s A GOOD MORNING here in Fullerton, California…though overcast in the skies above.

I watched some new life scamper along the inside of our backyard fence early today—little rabbits. Now, for whatever feasting there is from our garden that has brought them here, their zippy, intentional scampering lifted joy out of me.

I delighted in sipping my wonderful cup of coffee, writing, and enjoying the moments of just sitting and sitting, and then … sitting some more. My quieter self is relishing in times to just think and reflect…over the living I have done, alongside my husband, over the past five weeks. The piano, nearby, called to me… and I responded to the invitation to make music… how Good our Savior is!

As I sang, my heart welled with tears and joy… He lives. He lives. Yeshua lives today. He walks with me and talks with me…along my path today. He lives, He lives, salvation to impart! You ask? How do you know He lives? Well…He lives within my heart! And, I serve a risen Savior who’s in the world today; I KNOW that HE is living, whatever men may say. I SEE His hand of mercy. I hear His voice of love. And just the time, even now, He IS right here.

I glanced at the old picture that resides on the piano these days – Jonathan and I sitting side by side – as children, perhaps four and five years old. Tears came as I release Johnny and remember ~ he lives today with my saving Yeshua… The old hymn helps me form unexpressed words “…and tho’ my heart grows weary, I never will despair. I know that He is leading thro’ all the stormy blast; the day of His appearing will come at last.” … “Rejoice…Bethyl…lift up your voice and sing Eternal hallelujahs to Jesus Christ, the King! The Hope of all who seek Him, the Help of all who find, None other is so loving, so GOOD AND KIND!

So, though separated by miles and oceans and a continent…Vance and I are together in our spirits and hearts – in rejoicing – WHAT the Lord has and IS yet doing.

Working in Chinglish :)

6/25/08

here's vance considering his next chapter revisions....

I am having a great time working with my Chinese brothers and sisters here in Guangzhou. Two groups of five are working in different rooms on different floors in the hotel; I shuttle between the 48th floor and the 46th floor as they each read aloud different sections of the book, editing to fit the Chinese world. We are deleting politically inflammatory material, de-westernizing other sections, clarifying meanings, and harmonizing cultural clangs. They check with me before making any changes to make sure that this doesn’t change the essence or intent of the teaching tale.

I feel so honored to be working with these people who have so much that they can teach me of persevering in the face of persecution with holy passion. They are like Moses’ bush, afire, and not burning out because they are supplied with Holy Spirit fuel. This is a wonderful first day of editing work, after a day of touring in the city yesterday—wandering through a local bazaar and zoo, with an assigned guide from their group.

My Chinese mashed potato family is teaching me something of purity and uncomplicated sincerity. I think sometimes I as a westerner have lost touch with my heart and with it the very refuge where God’s presence resides. John Eldridge captures this well when he says: “We have learned from parents and peers, at school, at work, and even from our spiritual mentors that something else is wanted from us other than our heart... Very seldom are we ever invited to live out of our heart. If we are wanted, we are often wanted for what we can offer … If rich, we are honored for our wealth; if beautiful, for our looks; if intelligent, for our brains. So we learn to offer only those parts of us that are approved, living out a carefully crafted performance to gain acceptance… We divorce ourselves from our heart and begin to live a double life. “

I find these folks a stark contrast to this sometimes lost and divided heart I often see where I live. They know who they are and why they exist. They, better than me, keep the Main focus from getting blurred. And I am grateful to be their students even though they call me Teacher.

China!

Urumqi, China

I left Bethyl at the airport for her flight to LAX and a few hours later arrived here in Urumqi from Bishkek after about a 90 minute flight that crossed two time zones. I am now 15 hrs different than California. I got a taxi to the hotel after much ado about where it was, how to get money from an exchange, and so on. The hotel was amazing; better than any I’ve stayed in. Feels decadent. I left quickly, got a taxi again, and made my way to a coffee house about 20 minutes away along a busy street. After awhile I was led to the owner. I asked her about any God work in the town where I might join in worship. Mentioned my friend CW in Bishkek who had referred me here.

The owner smiled, said she knew CW, and led me outside. In a soft voice she said it was very tough to lead me to specific groups in this situation. She said that in this region the “crack-down” on non-registered groups was very tough, as it was in Tibet. Everyone was being very careful. Many had been imprisoned. She said this all out of the restaurant in the midst of heavy traffic sounds and then smiled and asked me to pray—that it was not possible for me to meet with such groups given the situation.

I went back inside. An English practice group of five young adults and one older English gentleman was talking in a corner of the restaurant with an older gentleman leading the discussion. He was asking if they believed the Beijing Olympics would bring peace and harmony in the country. Everyone could offer an opinion and practice speaking English. Then he led the mixed review to what else might work to bring peace. I said I thought that peace might come from inside a person and then spread to the outside, not the other way around. He nodded and asked what others thought. The talk was animated.

I said I was a foreigner and that Jesus had made a difference in bringing peace to my life. I was very happy in ways that money or politics could not bring to a person. The Englishman smiled and asked what others thought. We went around quite a bit, enjoyable talk, with most thinking that money would make people happy. I smiled, nodded, and didn’t proselytize or otherwise twist arms. I just kept playing my Jesus tune that worked for me. Eventually the scheduled “English talk hour” was up and we each went our way. It was a blessed time. I caught another cab back to my hotel, feeling a bit wiser and more blessed.

6/23/08

I’m airborne at about 1130 meters between Urumqi and Guangzhou, crossing the entire country in a four hour flight. The China Southern jet is somewhere over the middle of the southern, jagged, snow peaked Tianshan mountain range, about 1700 km long, complete with the largest glaciers in China. Perhaps over Tomur Peak, the highest of that range at 7435 meters. Magnificent, eye-popping works of God’s fingers.

I’m so blessed. Thank you, Father of mine, for allowing me to draw breath in this country, at this time, with these shy and fierce people whom you have graced with such natural beauty. Just in Xinjiang Province where I have visited, there exist over 47 ethnic nationalities. This area is furthest from any ocean of any place on the planet. It’s a historical melting pot of Chinese, Indian, Greek, and Roman cultures. It’s where Buddhist and Islam cultures fuse along the Silk Road. And less than 1% of this area knows anything about Jesus’ own life breathing indwelling.

Father of mine, Spirit of mine, Brother Yeshua of mine, give me grace to smile on these people and witness with my face and offered grace. I don’t know their language but I know they need You. Work here, Lord, in ways mysterious, to cause them to know you. Let your gospel ripple through these people and language groups, infusing, impelling, rescuing them from superstition, shame, and fear. This I pray in the life giving name of Yeshua. Amen.