In Photos: Fourth of July Weekend

Quoted in Paste Magazine

…so I’ve been quoted in Paste Magazine. I type that as nonchalantly as I can muster.

Buttery smooth vocals vaguely reminiscent of Paul Simon – ConsequenceofSound.net

It’s right there on page 46 of the July issue of Paste, a rather large and well respected music publication. In this case, Consequence of Sound is Luke Johnson, and the buttery smooth vocals are that of folkie, Andy Shauf. I wrote a review of Shauf’s debut record Darker Days for CoS some weeks ago assuming the debut record of an unknown probably wouldn’t warrant that much interest. Truthfully, I don’t think it did; however, Shauf’s record label took out a full page ad in Paste and used the above quote in it.

I haven’t exactly hit the big time, but regardless, it feels pretty good.

Back in the Office

I love my job, and so it stands to reason that being back at work beats (hands down) sitting alone at home with poison ivy. Here’s some stuff I did today that I’m stoked about:

• Talked with a seminary student on the phone who’s interested in serving in Kenya long-term as a missionary with his wife when he graduates.
• Helped strategize concerning the Homes for Hope Benefit Concert SIM is putting on in August. (I’ve blogged about this before, so if it doesn’t ring a bell, scroll down the page a bit.)
• Met and spoke with retired missionaries to Liberia.
• Updated The SIM USA Twitter feed and Facebook group. I know this is super geeky, but I love that stuff.
• Sent out info to several potential missionaries who want to know more about SIM.

…and so sitting here, still at my desk at 5:52 (when I could have left at 5), it doesn’t seem like I’m at a job at all.

Poison Ivy: My bitterest enemy

I am highly allergic to poison ivy. We are talking mass carnage. The last time I had poison ivy, years ago, my eyes nearly swelled shut, and I was out of commission for nearly two weeks. Needless to say, I’m pretty careful not to go anywhere near the stuff. Truth be told, I’d rather break a bone, have chicken pox a second time, have nasal surgery a second time (the first time was brutal), or be left alone on a deserted island for a while. And apparently, every time you are exposed to poison ivy, your reaction gets worse…

But time seems to dull the memory, and so last Saturday when I was helping a couple clean up their yard through the organization Hope for Charlotte, I didn’t give poison ivy its due space. I thought I had been careful not to touch it. I wore gloves. I made a mental note of where it was.

What I should have done is move on to something else.

Sure enough, Monday morning it started with a few small bumps and rashes, but by Tuesday afternoon, I looked like a walking disaster area. Seeing as I don’t currently have health insurance, I picked up some over the counter remedies and hunkered down for the week; however, by Thursday things had reached critical levels. My face was continuing to swell up and both of my legs were entirely covered with sores. I was also starting to have smaller blotches crop up across my arms and chest. This was not good.

On Friday morning, I reluctantly set up an appointment with a doctor. This is the first time I’ve ever gone to a doctor without health insurance, and I felt vulnerable. If the doctor didn’t prescribe meds, the whole visit would be be a waste of money. The doctor I saw was very helpful and kept the cost down as much as possible. I think the total bill for the visit was $66. I was in and out. Apparently, if you pay the cost of the visit up front, the bill is reduced by 20%. Good to know. The doctor was a bit wide-eyed at how bad off I was, and silencing my fears, he gave me two strong prescriptions to fill and thoughtfully making sure they were also inexpensive.

I’m not back to 100% yet. My legs are still pretty gory but my face is almost back to normal. Yesterday, I had cause for celebration. I could put my glasses back on since the sores behind my ear and around my nose had mostly cleared up! It’s the little things… (The picture on the left is after 3 days of drugs. Those rashes were twice as big last Thursday. Gross.)

Lesson learned: poison ivy is my bitterest enemy.

Nanking

I spent Saturday afternoon watching the excellent documentary, Nanking. It’s been a while since I’ve watched much of anything. (Unless you count my unflagging affection for Scrubs reruns.)

“The rape of Nanking” (as it’s called) is one of the most brutal war atrocities of the 20th century. The sheer scale and lack of regard for human decency by Japanese soldiers in China in 1937 turns the stomach. Hundreds of thousands of civilians were murdered; tens of thousands of women were raped.

Listening to accounts of the events from those still living – in one case a man detailing the murder of his mother and brother before his eyes – is almost too much to bear. The darkness of the human soul is too much. How could this happen?

Nanking specifically focuses on the efforts of a band of outsiders. In the midst of the darkness, the documentary describes a refuge within the tumult. A few missionaries and businessmen from the West protected thousands of Chinese. Apparently, the Japanese were wary of killing Americans and Europeans. With the cards stacked against them, these ennobled few literally fought against evil itself. They quarantined a safe zone and played cat and mouse with Japanese soldiers to defend those who could not defend themselves. In this way, it reminds me a little of Hotel Rwanda – another story of extreme heroism.

This type of sacrifice, it also reminds me of Romans 5:7.

Out to Lunch

Lately, I’ve picked up another duty at SIM: taking MKs (aka missionary kids) out to eat when they come through Charlotte with their parents on the way back from who knows what far off land. I think it’s brilliant that (1) SIM even does this and (2) that I got in on it. (Most of you know I have a long history of working with kids whether it was my foray into teaching for two years or my years as a camp counselor.) Such an activity as this allows these guys a chance to decompress without feeling like they are in an interrogation. We can chat about the differences between the US and Timbuktu or how the US doesn’t get soccer (aka football). We can chat about things looked forward to as well as fears, etc. I think most importantly, however, it shows these young men that SIM doesn’t just care about their parents – we love them too. We are glad they are around. They aren’t a burden, they’re a blessing to SIM.

Blogging about Blogging

Over the last couple of days, I’ve added the RSS feeds of tons of blogs to my feed reader. (For the non-techies, this just means I’ve been reading a lot of blogs.) I found a list of SIM missionary blogs on our network, and I’ve been slowly but surely making my way through them. As I peruse them, I find out more and more about what SIM does all around the world. I notice needs. For example, I found this request for teachers in Bolivia. I notice stories – like this one about termites in Niger. The overarching reason for this exercise is becoming more knowledgeable about SIM, so that I can more effectively communicate what SIM does to those who are interested in becoming missionaries with SIM; however, the added bonus of reading all these blogs has become that the Church (big “C”) around the world seems closer. The Kingdom advances…and I can see it happen from my laptop.

One other reason I’ve started keeping up with these blogs is so that I can put the stories up on the SIM USA Twitter feed. I’m a huge fan of Twitter (just check out the left side of this blog), and now I’ve become a administrator of the information we put on the SIM USA feed. If you are interested in keeping up with the latest info coming out of SIM USA, bookmarking the above link is worth your time.

A benefit

Today I had a working lunch with Dan, Cindy, and Michelle. Dan, my boss at SIM, had a great idea a while back. Wouldn’t it be great if an outreach of SIM in Ethiopia, a home for girls who’d otherwise live on the streets, could partner with a ministry in Charlotte, Lois’ Lodge, a home for single pregnant women with nowhere else to go? Indeed, it would! Wouldn’t it be great if the way they partnered was through a benefit concert that raised money for both institutions? Even better!

I’ve never been on the inside watching something like this come together. It’s a bit overwhelming just listening to the details and little things that have to happen. I respect every event planner out there. Administratively gifted, I ain’t. Good thing I’m not calling the shots.

So far, there are two musicians signed up. One of them is the up and comer Christa Wells. She’s written songs for several well known Nashville recording artists. Cool.

Getting the word out

Most of us know that it’s bad in Sudan. “Darfur!” is the rallying cry, but in all honestly, I don’t know – and I think most folks would be with me on this – much about Sudan. Beyond genocide and a complete lack of infrastructure, I’m clueless as to the needs, history, and culture of Sudan.

This morning, the director for SIM in southern Sudan was in town to speak on the subject. His lecture was open to the public. Before having to get to work in the office, I was able to sit through 15-20 minutes of his speaking. Two things I didn’t know about Sudan that hit me hard: (1) There are only 32 doctors in southern Sudan right now. 32! That’s it! For a population of well over 10 millions. He said, “The reality is this: nearly every Sudanese person lives their life without ever receiving any medical care.” (2) From about 300 to 1300 AD, Sudan (known by a different name then) was a Christian kingdom.

To Nigeria

This blog may turn into a place for stories from missionaries I encounter at SIM.

Just this morning, I listened to Linda speak of her service with her husband in Nigeria for the last 30 years. In the second row of seats, watching her, sat her family. It eventually registered that her husband was not there, and as I continued to listen, I pieced together why. She spoke of returning to the US with her husband to undergo treatment of cancer. She never said it specifically, but clearly, her husband had died in the past year of that cancer.

Yet here she was. Testifying to God’s goodness. Speaking of her passion for the school that they had worked at for most of their lives. Now, however, she would be returning to Nigeria – she made that very clear that she was going back – without her husband. It struck me as one of the most selfless acts I’d witnessed in some time. This woman had earned “the right” to take it easy and nurse her wounds, but all she wanted to do after suffering deeply this past year was preach the good news to children in Nigeria.

In her closing, she played a short slideshow of images. Her husband featured prominently. He had given his life in a country that was not his own with a people that did not share his culture for a prize he could not lose.

The Prayer Closet

There’s a closet (doubling as a room) at SIM. It has a chair, a lamp, a SIM prayer guide, and various other  items. The Prayer Closet is the place where SIM employees can pray.  Long time SIMers talk of it nonchalantly as if it is ubiquitous, given. I thought it extraordinary. “So you mean we have a dedicated room for prayer?” Yes. It seems to get regular use. A lot of praying goes on around here.

On the SIM sign out front it says “By prayer since 1893.” I guess if you’ve got a good thing going, there’s no need to rock the boat.

Listening to stories. Remembering stories.

At the top of my list of things that excite me about my job: I hear stories from missionaries constantly. Each morning at 8:30, here at SIM USA headquarters, we pray for missionaries around the world as well as donors. Many times a missionary on home assignment speaks, stories roll out, and I’m caught up in what is happening half way around the world.

This morning was one such occasion. A woman from Burkina Faso spoke. She shared experiences of God’s provision and grace in the midst of hardship – and this woman had seen her fair share of hardship. One story in particular, grabbed my attention: she spoke of an encounter in which a man had come up to her asking, “Will you please give me a Bible? I want to learn about Jesus.” She obliged. How could she not? She was inquisitive. This was certainly not routine. “Why did you ask for a Bible,” she persisted. “I had a dream,” he said. “A white woman with short hair would come to me, and give me a Bible and tell me about Jesus.”

Stories like this invigorate me. They aren’t the norm. When they do happen, you shove a stake in the ground, a marker of sorts: at this point in time, the Lord did something miraculous. You take it to heart. You meditate on it. You come back to it when ministry, life, whatever, isn’t that easy. It’s a memory to revisit in the dry seasons.

I am slowly but surely moving into a season in my life where rain comes down and parches thirst. I want to make sure I remember moments like this woman spoke of. I can say, “Look what the Lord has done!”

Little Rock

The Charlotte Johnsons (Bruce, Mary, and Luke) are visiting the Little Rock Johnson (Olin) this weekend. A couple of photos from the trip thus  far:

C.S. Lewis on Praise

I ran across this quote from C.S. Lewis at the end of Let the Nations Be Glad by John Piper:

The most obvious fact about praise…strangely escaped me…I had never noticed that all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise…The world rings with praise – lovers praising their mistresses, readers their favorite poet, walkers praising the countryside, players praising their favorite game – praise of weather, wines, dishes, actors, horses, colleges, countries, historical personages, children, flowers, mountains, rare stamps, rare beetles, even sometimes politicians and scholars…My whole, more general difficulty about praise of God depended on my absurdly denying to us, as regards the supremely Valuable, what we delight to do, what indeed we can’t help doing, about everything else we value.

I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation. It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are, the delight is incomplete till it is expressed.

Piper quotes Lewis in this capacity to make a point: It is extremely loving of God to do everything for his glory that we might praise him. It is thus because it is joyful to praise the object of our affection. It completes the pleasure of enjoyment.

An interesting insight indeed.

This turns any argument that it is selfish of God to desire praise and worship on its head. (Regardless of the fact that God is worthy of it no matter the reason.)

Part-Time

If you’ve been following this blog on the net instead of in a feed, you may have noticed a post I made to my friend Rachel (who works at SIM) on Twitter. It went something like this, “Did you hear the good news? I'm part time now. I might see you tomorrow.” You may have then thought to yourself, does this mean Luke finally has a job (and not just in theory anymore)??? You would be correct.

Went into to talk with the finance department earlier this week, and I was informed that I’m raising enough to start part-time at SIM. This is incredible news. Think about it this way: I’ve not had a job since October of last year. This isn’t for not trying. I submitted my resume to folks, cleaned it up with the help of a friend, resubmitted it, got an offer, was never called back by the offer. It just was the case that no one called me back. It’s the reason I’m working at SIM. (And let’s be clear: I’d rather be working at SIM than anywhere else in Charlotte, but a man has to eat, right?)

I told my boss, Dan, recently that had I known it would be such a long and tough road to come on board at SIM, I probably wouldn’t have even considered it last November. I think this is the chief reason God doesn’t show me the future. I’d generally take the easy way out. Seriously, I would.

And so to get word this week that I would actually be getting a paycheck (due in full to those of you out there that are supporting me) is the best news – without a doubt – that I’ve gotten in nearly a year. Rejoice with me.

I’ve made a lot of phone calls, sent a lot of e-mails, sent a lot of letters, and probably sent a carrier pigeon or two…all to bring a team of people together that think sending people to far off places to tell people about the Gospel is pretty important. Once again, thanks team.