Devon Avenue

This afternoon I visited Devon avenue--the "little India" of Chicago, where Pakistani Muslims and Indian Hindus live and work side by side. There are a myriad of tiny clothing, jewelry, live poultry, and literature/media shops as well as little cafe's and mini restaurants boasting all kinds of foods and sweets.
        I was there with my Contemporary Islam class; we were taking a field trip to Devon Ave with our Pakistani professor, Dr. Samuel Naaman. We went to the South Asian Friendship Center first to drink some chai--oh, how I loved smelling that strong tea-and-milk aroma! I haven't had chai made quite like the Kenyan chai I experienced five years ago on a missions trip. I was delighted to say the least. Then we sat in the small room where the Center has their Sunday services and listened to David Echols, former missionary in Pakistan and India, tell stories about his own ministry experiences.
        He told us about how there were many Muslims coming to faith in Jesus Christ in India--partly because they are able to relate to the Christians easier than the Hindi's who look down on them and persecute them. He also told us about how he was being persecuted in Pakistan when he and his family began to have so much success at converting Muslims that the activist Muslims became angry, invaded his home in the middle of the night, and tried to rob and kill him. Both times that these men came, the Lord protected the Echol family in a mighty way. Such stories only add fire to the passion that has begun to burn in me for the Muslim world.
        I simply can't wait to begin full-time ministry! Yet at the same time, I know from my reading and studying with Dr. Naaman that I am far from prepared for the challenges of ministry. I don't have the maturity of years and the necessary connections with other like-minded missionaries. I need to form a team, I need to gather support, I need to make myself ready to become a "Muslim to the Muslims" and most of all, I need to begin witnessing to Muslims in Chicago.
     When I read amazing books like Bridges to Islam by Phil Parshall, The Unseen face of Islam by Bill Musk, and Building Churches in Muslim Cities by Greg Livingstone, I see the great need and feel an overwhelming call to Muslim missions. I am getting hundreds of ideas all at one for what I want to do specifically. Yet nothing has been tested by the council of others who have actually done this kind of ministry. I am really excited to see that God has so quickly grown this passion in me, and I know He will send me to the right mentors and programs. He will open doors and close doors.
     So, the purpose of this rant, is to say: "I want to be a missionary!"
And to express some of my wondering where to begin. I wish that Moody--or any other school for that matter--had a program to specifically train students for Muslim missions. I could use anthropology, culture studies, hermeneutics, church planting, language, phonetics, English teaching, more on classes on Muslim beliefs, music, and ways of thought. There is so much that a Bible or Missions major at Moody doesn't even begin to address! I could take a hodgepodge of stuff at Moody--but that wouldn't give me a degree. Hmm. A lot to think about. I don't think a degree is the point--the skills and knowledge is the point. But there are a lot of obstacles to that and if that's where God wants me to go, as I said, He'll have to open the right doors and close the wrong ones.
This is a great God that we serve!

When God lets you drop...

There once was a man who went on a walk in the Grand Canyon. He took a small winding trail off the main venue to get away from the crowds of sight seers and trail guides. Panting for breath after a steep climb he squatted down in the shade of a sajauro cactus. Then he got up to continue his hike, but didn't notice the loose gravel covering the place where he stood. He suddenly found himself sliding on the loose earth toward a precipice. Faster and faster he went, desperately trying to dig his feet into the ground and stop his decline. At the very last moment he reached out and caught hold of a small, wiry bush that had dug its roots in the side of the cliff. His feet continued to slide and soon were kicking and swinging in the air above the drop off. His heart beat so fast he could hardly take a deep enough breath to get out his cry for help. As he clutched the trunk of the bush he cried again and again, "Help! Is anybody there? Somebody help me!"

   Now this man was a Christian. He was very close to God and often heard God's voice. But he had never heard it clearer than in that moment:

  "I'll help you." God said out of the blue sky, "Let go of the bush."

Now, when I first heard this story it was a joke--and the punch line was when the man replied, "Is there anybody else up there?" But instead of laughing, I responded by wondering what I would have done in the same circumstance. So, go with me to that precipice, place yourself in that man's predicament. Feel the strength leaving your hands, hear the cracking of the bush as it begins to give way under your weight. Feel the quiet of the desert, the canyon, the sky--you're alone and no one is coming to help you.

Then think of letting go.

No! 

Your flesh screams it. How could you let go? Isn't that suicide? But also--God could possibly know something you don't. Who do you trust? Your gut--or God?

This reminds me of another story.

There once was a little girl who loved a lion. He had saved her, her friends, and her family from the power of an evil ruler. But since then he had gone missing and they were once again in terrible trouble. They needed his help. Walking through the woods, this little girl and her friends came upon a huge gorge through which a river ran. And it was from the edge of that precipice that Lucy saw The Lion.

You know the story of Aslan and the four Pevensie children from C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia. 

The Pevensies did not trust Lucy that first time and follow her on a path that seemed to them to lead right over the edge of the cliff to a stony death below. But later they learned of their error, returned to the gorge, and in stepping out, found a hidden path they had not seen before. Aslan had known something they did not. 

The same is true for us. 

We walk along in life, confident that our stride will bridge any streams or crevices we meet. Even if we do slip up some we are pretty sure that if we dig our feet in and catch hold of something, we'll come out alright in the end. We are self-reliant, confident, mature.

The Bible says that God resists the proud, and think of all the ways in which God brings life, joy and peace into our lives. If we were missing these blessings, what a miserable life we would have! Yet God will not bless us with his presence or his favor if we lift ourselves above Him in pride. In His mercy He would rather humble us through painful circumstances than to see us outside of His blessing.

And so we find ourself on the cliff edge hanging by our fingertips, and finding no one but God to help. 

"Let go." He says. "Trust me."

Oh, how it burns, our feeling of resistance...the pride welling up inside. Yet, once we release our grip, we find ourself falling, falling and then--BAM--a tough landing on the Solid Rock, our refuge and foundation, which we had not known would be there to catch us. Its at this point that we cry tears of repentance and releif and begin, instead of hating the word trust, to sing hymns like this one:

"Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,

Just to take Him at His word.

Just to rest upon His promise,

And to know "Thus, saith the Lord."

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!

How I've proved Him o're and o're.

Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus.

Oh, for faith to trust Him more!"

Thus saith the Lord: "Let go."

Disclaimer

Some of my friends informed me that Google was putting ads up for Buddhist literature and
other such things--so I thought I should post a disclaimer:
 The ads on this account are not modified by the author and do not necessarily reflect
her views and convictions. Please disregard any discrepancy of content and notify the
author if something is particularly offensive--the author will consider terminating
the Google ads account on such grounds. 


Thanks everyone!
~Lindsey