Prospering the perpetual quitter.

Quitters never prosper.  But I am.  And I've spent most of the last year in a perpetual state of quitting.

Let me explain.  Last summer I went to Ireland.  Initially, I had some serious doubts about my motivations.  I questioned if I was really going to serve the Lord or if I was going for the experience, for myself.  You see, I've always loved that culture.  The western European flare of propriety and dry wit that permeates the Celtic regions feels naturally attractive to me.  And I was afraid that I just wanted to go so I could be part of that world, if only for a little while.  I struggled deeply with trying to grasp my motivations for a long time.  It wasn't until I was actually on the way, during a layover in Chicago, that I came to terms with the idea that my motives, whatever they may be, would not hinder the Lord.  I was going, and in spite of doubt, I was willing to be used when I got there.  That summer the most important lesson I learned is that when I'm willing, the Lord will use me.  And He did.  And I still got to experience a culture that I loved. 

My doubts represented a quitting of faith... and still I prospered.  As the summer wore on I experienced this in very real ways on a daily basis.  At first I felt so at home among the people I worked with and it occured to me that maybe I had found something that I was called to do, somewhere I was called to be.  As the weeks in Ireland came and went, I began to doubt even this.  There were much more qualified people.  There was no way I had made an impression...  I'm too reserved, I don't speak up in large groups often, and I didn't feel like I'd made any sort of real spiritual impact on anyone.  Again, the Lord prospered me, and I left Europe with a conviction that I had found belonging.

Once back into a routine stateside, it didn't take long for that to wear away and for the doubts to settle back in.  I quit again.  What if I had been wrong?  What if I had misinterpreted the Lord's calling on my life?  It wouldn't have been the first time.  There are plenty of other things I'm good at and enjoy, how do I know that I'm not called to do one of those?  ... As I looked back over my journal entries for the summer, I was reassured.  I knew that things had worked out the way they did for a reason; too much of it could only be explained by the hand of God.  I decided to get back into contact with the Celtic Langauges Team as soon as possible to see what they had in store for the following summer and beyond.  If the will of God truly was for me to go back, then surely it would be an easy path with open doors all the way... right?

When I finally got a reply, it wasn't exactly what I was expecting to hear.  Summer 2012 wasn't going to be like Summer 2011.  There were going to be few assignments, and none of them really seemed to fit me.  But... there was a chance, however small, that something could be put together specifically for myself and a partner.  My heart leaped at the chance and I ran with it.  But... as the weeks turned into months with no further communication... my faith faded quickly and I quit again.  Then I got another e-mail.

All of the time between then and now went this way.  A series of successive hurdles arose, caused me to despair, and were overcome out of the blue.  And still I perpetually gave up.  I look back now and see that there was always just enough time between responses for me to lose all sense of the certainity I had received from the previous one.  I questioned whether every step forward was really a step back.  But every time I quit, I was undeservingly brought another step nearer.

Eventually there came a point when I quit completely.  A little over a month ago, the window of opportunity was fast approaching, and I hadn't heard anything definite.  Clinging to what little hope I could muster, I sent an e-mail that was really less asking about the trip and more saying that it was okay if it didn't work out.  That's when I finally gave up.  Less than a week later everything changed.

In literally two and a half hours from the time I got the responding email, in which we sent some questions back and forth, called our moms, and talked to our BCM director, we went from being unsure if or where we were going, or how we'd pay for it, to knowing with certainty that we were going to Belfast and having the funds to pay for everything.  I didn't know how I'd ever doubted. Until I doubted again.

And here I am in the present.  I'll be in Belfast in two weeks.  Looking back over the journey it took to get me here, it doesn't seem possible to doubt the direction I've been given.  Yet, once again I look my motives square in the face and question myself.  In the middle of all of this shifting uncertainity, one thing remains unchangeable.  The Lord.  I am certain that He will use me if I'm willing.  And as long as my trust, faith, and hope are in Him, I'll prosper no matter how many times I quit.

- Sam R. Franklin
14 days to departure.

"Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own.  But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.  Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you.  Only let us hold true to what we have attained." - Phillipians 3:13-16

The journey begins now.

Ok, my ADD is kicking in. Just hang on and bear with me.


At the end of my last blog, I left with suspense about God actually sending me to Ireland. It’s a very good story, and greatly needs to be finished. But, there are just some things that cannot wait, lest I forget them, or worst, lest my memory try to exaggerate what actually happened.

These past few weeks, me and Sam have been buying plane tickets, preparing to travel, making departure plans, etc. One thing on our to-do list was to give a presentation at Sam’s home church about Ireland, show pictures from his last summer there, and ask them to pray and support our trip. Thankfully, I got to go with him to his church, and we got ready to give our little talk.

 Now, you need to know something about Sam Franklin. Nobody has ever thought of Sam Franklin and said, “Yeah, that guy, he’s really outgoing. He just loves talking to big groups of people.” That’s just not him. God has made people with different personalities. Me, I come alive when I’m talking to groups of people, big or small. Something about the adrenaline and the attention makes me more in the zone. That’s the way God made me. I’m a performer by nature. Not Sam. He thrives in small, intimate settings, he comes alive talking and laughing with people he’s close to.

Before he gets up to speak, I notice he’s uncomfortable. Don’t get me wrong, this guy, he actually does pretty good speaking to groups. But, because I know him, I can almost smell the nervousness coming from him. I want to be a good partner, so we say a prayer that God will speak through us and that these folks will receive an understanding and a passion for the spiritual situation in Ireland.

But, it was in the middle of this prayer, and in Sam’s presentation that followed, something hit me. Up until that point, I had been guilty of thinking what I know a lot of Christians think nowadays: that my job right now was to prepare for the journey coming in a few weeks. But then God showed me something in a way I’ll never forget: The journey starts now. Let me say that again: The journey begins now. Not when we get on a plane. Not once our feet touch foreign soil. We carry God with us now, and we need to act that way. A lot of people get that mission-trip mindset, thinking that when they’re “on missions” is the only time when it’s necessary to spread the Gospel. Every time we form a relationship with someone, we can either evangelize to them (if they’re lost), or minister to them (if they’re a fellow believer). That’s what we’re called to do. We have a great message, and we should be more open and ready to be a light to those around us, to awake the sleeping, and to encourage the striving.

This mindset can be put into action so easily. It can be as simple as shooting the bull with the guys in the gym. The very next day, I chose to relax in the hot tub instead of the steam room after my workout. The steam room is loud and noisy and its impossible to converse with people (not to mention slightly awkward), but the hot tub is the perfect water-cooler environment. Those little kind of changes in a Christian’s mindset and in their actions is all that it would take to start forming relationships. Relationships are the basis for ministry. But I’ll go into my recent revelation about relationship evangelism later. All I have to say is don’t think that just because you’re not in a foreign country it
means you’re not in a position to live for God.

 

The journey begins now.

 

-Ethan Bossier
17 days to departure.

Many were the plans.

Life rarely goes according to my plan.  I planned to write this two days ago, for example.  Then, it would've been on April sixth.  Then, it would've marked a month to the day until we depart for Belfast.  Then, I got sick.

Actually, growing up, I spent a lot of time sick.  Allergies and asthma convened on a regular basis to make anything remotely physical, i.e. breathing, a challenge.  Much of my time was spent inside, doing as little as possible, usually with a book or computer.  It makes sense that I wanted to be a writer from an early age.

Really, I fell in love with story.  I was fascinated by the idea that someone can express themselves so utterly without ever vocalizing a word, or even saying exactly what they mean, and still manage to reach out through time and space to speak to the minds and hearts of others.  I was struck by the power of words and by the truth that underlies fiction.  From as far back as I can remember I was trying to recapture some of that power and truth for myself.  And so I wrote constantly.  I think my long-term plan was to write something really profound one day, share it with the world, and then retire satisfied and wealthy.

Life rarely goes according to my plan.  I never really wrote anything satisfactorily profound.  And for some reason, I think it was so that I could understand my characters better, I ended up a Psychology major at Louisiana College.  I've always kind of known that I naturally understand and empathize with people.  It wasn't until Passion 2011 in Atlanta that I realized my mistake.  I had spent all of my time trying to use my gift of understanding to get myself noticed.  I wanted to write something I knew would impress people... and I hadn't understood why I couldn't until then.  Selfishness.  It was at that moment that I stopped caring about my stories so much... because I realized that God is telling a much bigger, much more important story, and everyone plays a part.  More than that, He had given me the means to understand the parts individuals play.  I gave up my dream of being a writer, and committed myself to seriously pursuing a degree in counseling.  This was one of those earth-shaking, sky-parting, foundation-shattering moments that seem to be occurring more frequently with time. 

The next wouldn't occur until that summer when I left the country for the first time and found myself amongst the CeLT.  It was there that I fell in love again.  This time with a group of people, a culture, a lifestyle, and the idea that I might be called to use my gifts to tell God's story among them.  This, of course, depended on His plan.

- Sam R. Franklin

"Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand."- Proverbs 19:21

Am I crazy?

I’ve always been crazy, but it’s kept me from going insane.

This line from a classic Waylon Jennings song goes a long way to explain my life. I was shy as a younger kid, but as soon as I came out of my shell, I was usually known as that guy who always said something stupid, who always had the most ridiculous ideas, who could be talked into any hair-brained scheme, and most importantly, who never knew when enough was enough.

All my childhood, I can remember my dear sweet mother telling me no. No, your friend can’t stay the night. No, you can’t have that toy. No, you’ve been going and doing enough lately. Now, please don’t think my mom was being over-controlling. What I forgot to mention was, I had been at my friend’s own house the night before, I had a nearly brand new toy waiting on me at home, and I was almost always exhausted because I really was on the road way to much. I was always looking for something to do, always wanting to do the next fun thing, never knew when to say no. I never knew when enough was enough. When I would come to momma, asking if I could do one more thing, she would just give me that look that asked “are you crazy?”

Which brings me to Ireland. Kind of a big jump for some people, but just force your mind to do it for me, and I’ll fill in the gaps later. You see, at first glance, me deciding to go on this trip to Ireland is another example of me doing way too much. I’m already going on a mission trip this spring. I’ll also be working at a church camp all summer long. Once I found out that Sam needed a wingman for this trip to Ireland, I quickly realized that, if I went, my spring schedule would proceed like this: Miss a full 5 days of college classes to go to Guatemala, come back, 2 days of classes, 3 days of finals, take 2 finals early, fly out to Ireland for 3 weeks, 9 hour flight back to the states, have one-half of a night to sleep (if jet lag allows), then wake up bright and early to be recertified to work at the ropes course, which will start a non stop 10 weeks of camp. That’s ridiculous. That’s unwise. That’s crazy.

But, what if it could be done?

Would I really be able to serve at full capacity on 4 weeks of mission tripping, all whilst getting good grades in all my classes, then show up without being totally exhausted to work at camp?

The reason I was always going and doing as a kid was because I was never satisfied with what I had. I had an unsatisfiable desire to do fun things, to experience adventure, to feel the thrill of doing something crazy. I always felt that if I were to say no to something, if I turned down an opportunity to do something, that I would go completely insane. Now, I could feel myself experiencing that feeling about going out and doing missions for God. I wanted to do more that I was already doing. But when was enough finally enough?

All these things started whirling around in my in my head, and at first my mother’s advice prevailed and I dismissed the whole idea.

But, God still had His say in the matter.

- Ethan Bossier