Istanbul

Being a frequent traveler, people often ask my favorite country to visit. That’s a great question, but impossible for me to answer. As an eternal optimist and glass-half-full guy, I can find things to admire just about anywhere I wander. Well, that is, of course, with the exception of … you didn’t really think I’d tell you, did you?

Turkey is stunning! Definitely toward the top of most of my lists! A large country of over 72 million people, it is as geographically diverse as the people who inhabit it. The soil is rich and fruitful, the mountains are spectacular and snow-covered, the beaches are amazing and, and, and … you get the idea. Just about anything you could want can be found in Turkey. It is possible on any given day to find any climate within the borders of Turkey, cold to hot, wet to dry. You can Google Turkey and get the touristy info anytime you want; I’m not writing this to promote Turkish tourism. But, it is true that Turkey is a gorgeous place with world class cities like Istanbul and Izmir.

Right now I am thinking Bible and history. Outside of Israel, there is no nation that contains more biblical history. Noah’s ark is said to have touched down on those snow covered mountains of Ararat – in Turkey. Turkey’s position as the land bridge between Asia and Europe means that so many of the biblical peoples have been connected in one way or another with Turkey. The Apostle Paul was born in Tarsus – in modern Turkey. Followers of Jesus were first called Christians in the church of Antioch of Syria – also located in modern Turkey. When Paul wrote to the churches in the region of Galatia, he was writing to churches in Turkey. The letters that Jesus wrote in the Book of Revelation to the seven churches – yep, they are all in Turkey. For the first 1,000 years of the Christian faith, no city played a more important role than Constantinople (modern Istanbul), not even Rome. This is a short list, but the idea is to remind you (or inform you) that Turkey is sometimes called “the other Holy Land” for a reason.

So much of what you read about in the Bible took place in Turkey. Today, however, Turkey is one of the most resistant places on earth to the gospel. Estimates of genuine evangelical followers of Christ in this nation of over 72 million range from 3-4,000. There are many more members of traditional, Orthodox churches, and it must be assumed that there is a remnant of believers among them as in other places as well. In a few days we will commemorate the martyrdom of three men killed for their faith in Christ during a horrible incident almost four years ago in eastern Turkey.

Let me hasten to add that since the 1920′s the government of Turkey has been secular, and there is no official policy of persecution as long as people live peacefully among each other and don’t try to convert others to their religion. Most of the attacks that have taken place against believers in recent years have come from radical nationalists or religions fanatics. Before you are tempted to become a bit judgmental of those who perpetrate such attacks, let me remind you that it was through this country also that thousands of European crusaders roamed in their quest to recapture the Holy Land and Jerusalem. Along the way many were given to incredible displays of rape, rampage, cold-blooded murder, savagery and other barbaric acts with a ferocity that still brings pain to this day. Don’t say, “get over it”, or “that was a long time ago.” That very attitude is a great part of the reason that the wounds are fresh to this very day. You really can’t understand unless you have lived inside the hearts of those who live on the other side. Though there are plenty  of examples of excess to go around on all sides, there are also many poignant examples of Muslims protecting Christians and providing for them in these lands. Sometimes, the most powerful form of witness is to lay the arguments and blame aside and opt for a genuine, contrite humility and recognition of the common human problem of sin.

Please don’t think I am advocating a silent witness approach, or a passive, do-nothing presence. I am a follower of Jesus Christ and I live to share my faith. The question is how one goes about doing that. Loud and bold does not always equate to biblical and Christ-like, though sometimes it surely does. Just like in Bible study, context is everything. History shows that sharing faith at the point of a sword rarely works. How about something really radical, like living daily life in the power of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and trusting God for open doors of “utterance” as Paul asked the Colossians (residents of Turkey) to pray for him? He also asked that God would grant him the grace to speak boldly, clearly and correctly. How about being channels of God’s love to all people regardless of whether or not they ever come to share our faith. We have the example of God himself who loved us even when we were yet sinners.

When I think of Turkey’s amazing biblical past, I make application to my life by being reminded that whatever I have done in the past for God’s kingdom’s sake is no guarantee that I am living in his power today. The same truth applies to congregations. A proud and storied history is great, but what about God’s working in and through us today? Looking back over my life, what are the landmark times of God’s power manifested in me? Are any of those times within the past year? Why, or why not? Those are the questions I need to ask myself. The answers are not always gratifying or comforting.

I am also reminded that no matter how beautiful a country, an individual or a church on the outside, there can be a totally different story beneath the surface. What is at the very core of my existence? Would it be my own selfish desire, or Christ and him crucified?

Finally, I am reminded to pray for Turkey and its peoples. I must pray for those followers of Jesus who live and labor there to witness the power of Jesus Christ in and through their lives. Some of them have suffered greatly and a few have paid the ultimate sacrifice. The least I can do is pray.

Four men in NW Iraq lead the effort of  our small alliance of churches in the US and Latin America to share God’s love and truth. They are not K’s; they are Chaldeans, another group of people who inhabit this same geographical area. The Assyrians are another such group. You recognize those names from the Bible, but they are not really the direct descendants of those Old Testament peoples. Let me tell you a bit about them.

Randy Crewswell is an EPIC International field facililtator with whom we work. The following is from a report he presented that describes some of the history of this area.

Church Planting and gospel ministry in this area has its origins in the work of Thomas, the doubting apostle.  In the first century, Thomas travelled across Asia from Palestine to India, preaching and planting churches.  He moved through what was then a hostile Persian empire and found a receptive people, speaking a language akin to his own Aramaic and established reproducing churches. In later years these became known as the Nestorian church and they blazed a gospel trail all the way to China by the 6^th century. This group was arguably one of the greatest missionary movements in history. They had a critical weakness in that they did not tend to translate scriptures into the languages they ministered to nor did their church structures adapt to local cultures. We know these people today as the Assyrian/Chaldean historical churches of Ir_q. At no point in their history, did they successfully incorporate their K or Arabic neighbors into their own churches, or establish culturally relevant churches for K’s or Arabs. As Islam rose to power it squeezed the churches by offering inducements to convert to Islam and forbidding evangelism. Without eliminating them completely, they were diminished to a useful anachronism, serving some leaders, rebelling sometimes, and generally declining (edited for electronic publication).

These Chaldean and Assyrian peoples  are racially and linguistically the same people. Their churches are much like other Orthodox churches in the East. Among them, however, are small pockets of evangelical believers. The men we work with here to reach their K neighbors come from this background. Interestingly enough, the language they speak at home is Aramaic, the language Jesus and his disciples spoke. Contemporary Aramaic is not that far removed from the Aramaic spoken in Jesus’ Day.

One evening last week while with these men, I was asked to share a bit with them about principles of Bible study. I told them that I could probably learn more from them than they could from me. Their Middle Eastern history, culture, world view and language are far closer to biblical culture than ours in the West. Sometimes we allow our culture to affect the way we understand and interpret the scriptures.

For quite some time we sat and talked about various issues that they are wrestling with and we used that as a laboratory to share Bible study principles. One example was when they asked how to handle those who do not share our faith and tell them they should be ashamed to use the Bible because it contains a pornographic book like the Song of Solomon. Reading several commentaries had left them confused as to what they should believe.

My response was that Song of Solomon is certainly a book is not that easy to digest on the first reading. While there are several legitimate ideas about how to interpret this Old Testament book, I told them that the explanation that makes the most sense to me revolves around the culture of that day when weddings normally lasted for seven days. During that week of festivities, the bride and groom would often present a segment each day of the history of their relationship, perhaps beginning from how they met, their courtship, engagement and the rest of the pathway to the wedding.

Sometimes, the tale of romance would take the form of bride and groom singing or reciting in poetic form backed up by a chorus. This is very much like we see in the seven vignettes that make up the Song of Solomon.

Suddenly, their eyes lit up and the wheels inside their heads began to spin.

Up until only about 20 or 30 years ago, our weddings here were just like that! one exclaimed. We still tell the story of the relationship, only we usually do it with PowerPoint or video.

These men held in their possession the insight of their own culture that could open up this passage to their understanding, yet they were blinded looking through the lens of Western scholarship that often passes down opinions from generation to generation without doing much original source investigation or cultural inquiry.

We talked about how realistic the Bible is to include a book that reinforces the simple love of a man and a woman, giving us permission to enjoy that love to the fullest.We reflected on the parallels between the relationship of Christ and the church, since the New Testament freely uses the analogy of bride and bridegroom to describe that relationship.

The Bible is God’s truth revealed to us. I believe it is our ultimate authority in all matters of life and faith and that we can count on every word. I wonder, though, how often our understanding is limited by our lack of sensitivity to the cultural context.

As we continued our conversation, I was impressed with their knowledge, their curiosity and their desire to achieve a degree of mastery in the understanding of scripture. It was funny how in almost every question they asked, I was able to hold up the mirror of their own culture to help them understand what has been in the Bible all along.

These guys don’t need me or anyone else. They simply need to learn a few basic principles of Bible study and then trust God’s Spirit to explore the Book  in light of their own culture and language. I would absolutely love to spend more time with them discussing and exploring the truth of scripture. I can learn a lot from them!

Today was dedicated to touring the ruins of the biblical Ephesus, something I have done before and was anxious to do again. About an hour south of Izmir (Smyrna of the Bible, another of the seven churches), the ruins of Ephesus are truly fantastic. If you are ever in this part of the world, I can’t recommend this tour enough. Paul walked the very streets we walked today. The amphitheatre where the silversmiths rioted in Acts 19 is still there, still used for special concerts and the acoustics are astounding. You can whisper or drop a coin on the stage and be heard at the top row of the 25,000 seat facility.

In addition to Paul, here walked John the Apostle. Just across the valley is a basilica where he is supposedly buried. Legend has it that Mary the mother of Jesus lived here, too, since he committed his mother to John for his care as he died on the cross. This is also the domain of the famous martyr Polycarp and so many others. Turkey has so much history it boggles the mind!

The best part of the tour was our tour guide, a believing K. Tony and met him last time we were here and specifically asked for him. Our local contact here has been a mentor to him for several years. To be a tour guide here requires a license from the government and intensive study. They are very demanding that everyone say the same thing and that’s good. There is nothing more frustrating than to go to some historic site and hear guides telling contradictory history! Our guide is incredibly enthusiastic and combines his passion for Jesus and history in a compelling, but non-offensive way. If you come this way, I’ll be happy to give you the contact information.

As I said in my previous post, over the next few days I hope to share a few more thoughts and reflections on this trip as I have time to process it all. If you tried to tune in some hours ago and got a notice that this domain name had expired, that’s true, because our credit card information on the auto-renew was not up to date. Sorry! Everything now should be good to go.

Up at 0400 to leave the hotel in Istanbul to leave on a 0700 flight to Izmir. Ugh! It’s all of a 45 minute flight, so not even much time to catch a nap. We were met by Chepe, a team leader here. Chepe, Tony and I were young men together in El Salvador many, many years ago. We rode the shuttle bus together into the city and sat down for some coffee, knowing that our hotel rooms would not be ready yet. We were happy to catch up with Chepe and learn all that has been happening here and with him and his family.

On our way to the hotel later, I figured out what we call luggage, luggage, after lugging our for a mile or so to the hotel. Great little hotel, though, and we were all ready for a somewhat relaxed day in a decent place. Yay! Tomorrow evening we will meet with his team and take them to dinner.

There is a huge market not far from the hotel and we decided that would be a good place for the guys to get some stuff to take home. We have had the greatest time seeing just how similar this culture is to Latino culture.

After a brief nap we wanted to tackle the mountain above the city that has a huge Turkish flag waving on top. We heard there was a great view of the city. Izmir is a beautiful city, the biblical Smyrna. So off we went, up winding streets, dodging cars, cats and yucky stuff in the streets. If we were intelligent people we would have taken a taxi to the top. Nope! How far did we walk? Too far! Too fast! The ascending, seedy neighborhood is predominately inhabited by K people and that was fun. Little kids and teens were delighted to banter back and forth with strange men speaking Spanish. By the way, the view WAS spectacular.

Only one way to finish a day like this. That’s right! A great meal! So, we came down the mountain and headed for the beach area to a restaurant where we took the workers over two years ago. We remembered it as being very good. As we walked in the owner took one look at Tony and said, “I know you from somewhere.” We could’tn believe it, but he remembered us from when we were here over two years ago. We came because we remembered the food and it was just as good as we remembered.

OK, I am really going to try for more than 4 or 5 hours sleep tonight. Hasta luego!

We left the hotel about 9:00am for the two-and-a-half hour trip to the airport. The wind had blown in a sandstorm! So, our Latino team loaded into the van with the scents of Eau de Diesel wafting through the passenger cabin, meaning that the windows would once again be open even in a sandstorm. By the time we got to the airport I think that living organisms could have grown in my nose and throat. In fact, I’m not sure I didn’t suck in some living organisms.

What a great time this has been! I am very pleased with how my group of friends blends with the Americans that traveled most places with us. And, I am more pleased with the way they are assessing the realities of the challenges before us. One of the greatest needs in this part of the world is for believers to simply be a living presence in the everyday world of reality. The business opportunities are wide open. There is NO manufacturing in northern Iraq. Impressive construction is happening everywhere you look, and the roads are filled with nice, late-model cars. The resilience of the K people is encouraging. They are determined to build a new society from the ruins left by a dictator dead set on exterminating them. The infrastructure, though, is hard pressed to keep up with the fast moving changes.

In our Latino group is an economist from Peru and a successful businessman from Mexico who is accustomed to large scale projects. It has been enjoyable to watch them investigate, ask questions and get their creative minds working on what can be done.

We arrived back in Istanbul late this afternoon (Monday). We will eat supper with the rest of the group and then (hopefully) turn in early. We need to leave the hotel in the morning at 0500 to catch a flight to Izmir. There, we will be visiting with other Latino workers. Tony and I were in Izmir together last time we were in Turkey and we look forward to seeing a good friend of ours who works there.

Getting a decent internet connection has been a struggle the entire trip. I am trusting that I will be able to keep updating you during our time in Izmir. Stay tuned!

This cryptic type of writing is not because I or the people traveling with me are fearful of having something happen to us. Nor is it because of the people with whom we interact are fearful. Speaking for them, they knew what they were getting into when they signed up, locals or ex-pats. My concern is to do nothing that would hinder them from completing their mission or unnecessarily complicating things for them.

A few years ago I was asked to pray for a military unit upon their deployment. The chaplain that day said something that struck me. He said when people pray for them, they normally pray for their safety. The chaplain said they certainly appreciated that, but they knew what they signed up for and they are prepared not to come back. The real prayer requests are two. First, that they would complete their mission. Second, that they would do so with honor. This is the spirit in which I write these reports.

This morning we met briefly with the CPers adn they announced to us that our plans had once again changed a bit. As I said yesterday, this is par for the course. Things have changed even since we have been here. You are aware that tensions are elevated in this part of the world and, though we are in a relatively peaceful area, we are not exempt. Reprisals here do not come from the government but from others. The government gets involved when it seems that someone is adding to the tensions and divisions that already exist.

We loaded onto a small bus with a couple of the CPers and headed for a tour that would take us within sight of two borders. The idea was to be able to see a few areas where they are working and so that in the privacy of the bus they could give us an idea of what they do. It was not possible to even into into those areas, but it was a great time to be with them and hear their reports.

One of the Cpers had asked a couple of us to accompany him to meet with a VIP to give some clout to their efforts and to give assurances that we are doing work for the benefit of the entire community. A brief stop at a border town revealed that is we continued at the present pace we would be late for the date. So, the few of us involved in the meeting grabbed a taxi and headed back to the principal city. We believe that the meeting went well. Thanks to those of you who took action upon my prayer request tweet.

This evening, the newbies in the group are at a local assembly, an older established traditional work. There ARE a few assemblies in this area, but they are among the minority  groups, not the majority group. Our CPers are from these assemblies. None of them are members of the majority group because there are no believing leaders yet among the majority group. None.

In the morning we hit the road for 2 or 3 hours to the airport and our flight back to Istanbul. Hopefully I will have better internet access there. Thanks for your prayers.

Our vans and drivers arrived this morning right on schedule after breakfast. I won’t tell you the route we took, but the drive to our current city took about five-and-a-half hours, not counting a lunch break in a major city at Texas Chicken run by a Lebanese guy. People always chuckle when they travel to other countries and see restaurants or other businesses that are obviously a rip off of some part of Americana, but I have to tell you that Texas Chicken was pretty tasty. I had the Mexican combo. Go figure. The two Mexicans turned up their noses at the thought of such a thing and played safe with chicken tenders. I can’t blame them. That’s like an American passing on a “genuine American hamburger” in Botswana or something like that. One of you who has actually eaten such a thing in Botswana will probably write me that it was great, but you know what I’m trying to say here.

Right after that we patronized another Lebanese establishment called Bakery and More for some sweets and coffee for dessert. Score two for Lebanon!

Does it seem like I talk about food too much on this blog. Stop! Don’t answer! That’s like a guy trying to answer his wife who says, “Does this dress make me look too fat?” There is no answer for that question. Just come down with a coughing fit, or knock something off the table to divert attention. Do ANYTHING to not answer that question.

Off across Iraq in TWO very nice, fairly new 12 passenger vans. We learned our lesson the first time and now we had room for both our luggage and ourselves. Man! We are really smart! We divided ourselves into an English speaking van and a Spanish speaking van. Made no difference to our drivers who spoke neither English or Spanish.

What was fun was for our van to get waved through military checkpoints since all of us in the Spanish speaking van looked like we belong here. The van with all the white faces got their passports checked more than we did.

Only one slight problem. Our van had two large containers of diesel fuel in case we ran out. That’s good. The bad part is that they were on the inside with us and smelled like, well … diesel fuel. Ugh! That meant we had to run with the windows open and the air conditioning off. Not the way you want to cross the desert. Arriving in Duhok we were tired, headachey, covered with dust and hot. But, let it be known that we didn’t run out of gas.

Stayed at this hotel last time. Nice enough joint and conveniently located for our purposes. Our CPers were waiting in the lobby. Wow! It was great to see them! There are the guys we work with directly through our alliance of churches.

There has been a slight change of plans.

That’s a phrase you hear frequently on any trip like this. No problem. Everyone else was staying at the hotel until diner at 1900 hours and Pastor Bill from Texas and I would just drop our bags in the room and go with the CPers to another location so we could talk freely with them and do a little training.

What a great group of guys. They shared some of the challenges they are facing recently and I reviewed with them the chapter contents of my book Searching for Truth that they were working on translating. The interaction was good natured, very interactive and conversational. I loved it! I also loved the amazing, probing questions they asked about scripture. Later with all the group we enjoyed dinner together and just hanging out.

There is so much I would love to tell you. You already know that I cannot use this forum to do that. I want to tell you their stories and all that is happening in their lives right now. For you at KCBT, I’ll be able to do a limited amount of download in the next couple of weeks after my return. I can just tell you that you would be thrilled to see how God is answering your prayers for the K people in this is area. The news is not all positive, but even the negative is indication that God is at work.

Las night we arrived at a facility belonging to a company that does a great deal of good for people. We are being treated like kings! I can tell you that we are in a rather isolated spot in an area that K’s would perhaps call the wild, wild West. Now, imagine this! In this remote place I have discovered that I know the father of our host, and that his sister is married to a Venezuelan who arrived today in Costa Rica and is a very good friend of the one we call our Costa Rican daughter, not the other Costa Rican daughter who works for me. Got that?

We got a bit of a late start this morning with a wonderful breakfast followed by a tour of the facility here. It is truly incredible. So much potential! After that, we drove to an ancient citadel in the neighboring city that is one of several claiming to be the oldest continuously inhabited city on earth. Anyway, you can bet it’s old! From the top of the citadel there is a great view of the city and also of the hills from where the armies of the previous regime bombarded this city continually for over ten years. These people spent over a decade in Hell. Sadly, there are maybe 4 or 5 known Jesus followers in the entire city, leaving most to have nothing more to hope for than what they have now – not much. We spent some time praying over the city, literally, in three languages.

Having an afternoon free, I knew what I wanted to do if at all possible. Thankfully it was! The office director of the facility drove us to Salaimaniya, cultural center of the K’s. I was so excited! Most of my K friends back home in Kansas City are from this city. I can hardly wait to tell them that I was there.

Our driver and guide is himself a K and from this city. On the trip he shared his story of how he came to faith and was transformed. Very cool stuff! On my previous visit to this country I met the man who was able to lead him to faith.

We loved the city! Only the Latin American delegation made this trip along with Marty from Atlanta who was brave enough to think he could handle us. He could, and he did, and we were very happy to have him with us. We stopped for the very special tea that our driver said he can hardly ever find anywhere else in the country. Then, we walked down to the main square where a demonstration was going on and Pesh Merga soldiers were a heavy presence. All of us who have lived in Latin America felt right at home! It really is amazing how much the two cultures have in common, despite obvious differences.

We went to the market that could also be set in any Latin America country. There our Mexicans and the Peruvian purchased K head dress. The shop owner and another K man showed them how to wind it around their heads. It was very neat to see the finished product. Not quite as ridiculous as me dancing, but close.

The really funny thing is that they got the head dresses to go. They didn’t take them off. So we go walking through a sea of K people with the Mexi-Peruvian dudes  in their blue jeans, sneakers, polo shirts and K head dress. They drew quite a bit of attention from startled onlookers. Real K men would never think of wearing this unless they also had on the traditional baggy pants and matching jacket. Our guys kept telling themselves that they were setting a style and couldn’t wait to come back in a couple of years to see many others doing the same.

In the square, many turned their attention from the protesters to the visitors in the Mexi-K wrapped heads. We stopped for some pictures. Me – I wanted a picture for my K friends back home to prove I was here. That didn’t take long. Then, the guys with the cloth crowns wanted their picture taken. As we lined up with them, other K men started joining the huddle. One older man pulled up alongside and interlocked arms with one of our guys and posed for the cameras. Next, some of them were wanting their picture taken with us using their own cell phone cameras. OK, time to go before we start signing autographs!

From there we drove to the top of a large mountain that overlooks the city. Along the way it is impossible to see the myriad constructions projects, new, nice cars and other signs of a booming economy in an areas that was once almost wiped clean not that many years ago.

Today was Friday – Middle Eastern Sunday. That meant that all along the way to the top of the mountain, families and groups were enjoying a picnic. EVERYWHERE! The sun was bright and the reflection from the thousands of glitter and sequin covered dresses was stunning. Google K dress and see what I’m talking about. NO, Silly! Don’t type in K dress and then email me asking why it didn’t work. Type in the whole word that K represents. People really do stuff like that and write me.

At the top, we again stopped for a brief prayer meeting in the same three languages. The view is breath-taking; the need is great.

Back at the ranch, our hosts had prepared our very own picnic with a cook out on the grill. Yummy!!! It was fun to be outside and to meet some other workers from nearby places. God has special people in special places for sure! All day, in spite of being an “off day,” all sorts of kingdom conversations took place and we interacted with the cast of key players assembled here.

The reason for brining our brothers from Latin America was for them to be exposed to an area unfamiliar to them so they can lead their churches in moving forward in the project to reflect God’s glory among the K people. They have been deeply moved and their heads are awash with creative ideas. We could leave now and say mission accomplished.

We wanted to watch the movie Turtles Can Fly, and our hostess had started downloading it from the Internet. However, a slow connection changed our plans. By the way, if you would really like to get a better feel for this place and the soul of its people and the suffering they have endured, get the flick. Turtles Can Fly. It is a great movie and completely an Iraq/Iran production. It was filmed on location where we will be tomorrow. All the actors are K amateurs.

A very special K friend in Kansas City actually lived the scene that forms the backdrop for the story. She assures me that this is truly the way it was, except for the satellite dish that plays a key role and is the namesake of the star. It is in K language with subtitles in English. You will both laugh and cry and it will take you by surprise. Very engaging!

It’s late and we get up early tomorrow to head to the other side of the country. I’ll check in later as I can.

I’m sure those of you who know me well don’t believe what I just said. This is not a matter of having anything against dance. To the contrary. I just can’t do it. I’ve tried; I can’t. … At least until today. More on that later. Back to the beginning.

The group celebrating outside my window last night was long gone when I crawled out of bed this morning. The day had dawned beautifully over the mountains. Our local contact arrived with fresh bread from the bakery and one of our team members had the amazing foresight to bring alone some packets of instant Starbuck’s.

Yeah, I know. That’s another contradiction, right? I don’t care that much for Starbuck’s, and instant coffee is against my religion. But today, it was brown gold!!! Sin against my religion never tasted better. There IS pleasure in sin. See? (just kidding)

We cleaned up as best as possible. Our rooms offered a choice between a western commode and a Middle Eastern squatty potty. I’m all for cultural identification but, just for the record, I opted for the commode on this one. Just in case you were wondering. Then, we straightened one of our three rooms to receive our expected guests.

Soon, they arrived. Our very special guest from last nightwas bringing some of his key leaders. Our guest is a very important and strategic CP’er. Sorry to be cryptic, but you can ask someone. He has the most amazing story. A couple of his people even arrived from a neighboring country that is not far from where we are. More would have come, but the tension is a bit elevated in the area due to the recent happenings in this part of the world.

(Even though I posted I KNEW that was going to happen just a few minutes ago, I couldn’t put it up yesterday because of no internet. So, with this I’m caught up. Sort of).

What a pleasure to sit together and share stories and introductions. Every one was special and inspiring. Those of you at KCBT need to know that your prayers, giving and even hard work are a part of what God is doing through these people and in this part of the world. My Latino brothers were especially moved by what they experienced and also contributed greatly to the meeting with their own stories and wisdom.

Our local contact and translator had to leave to catch a plane to India. Our K friends wanted very much for us to stay and share a picnic with them. Even though we had no translator, we knew this was a very special opportunity. Because of who these people are, they have been carefully protected from Western influences. Few Western believers have had the pleasure to just hang out with them. We did and we are so grateful.

The setting was a beautiful river right below our rooms. The bank is divided into little pavilion type structures that families or groups can rent. We were certainly not the only group on the river today.

First, let me say that the K’s dress to the 9′s for picnics. My! Were we ever under-dressed! Many of the men wore the unique K dress and others had jackets, some with ties. The ladies dressed in elegant, sequined dresses that were just fabulous. The kids were styling, too! They grill beef, chicken and lamb. Lots of lamb! Their flat breads are delicious. You scoop up the meats along with some veggies if desired. My Mexican brothers said all it lacked was salsa. They called it K-Mex food! K Tacos! The folks who came with the leaders we met with were both family and friends, probably about 60 or so, some believers, some not. Few spoke any English, but two or three knew a few words and were eager to learn some more.

Soon, a bus load of university English students arrived. Now that was a hoot! We were the celebrities of the day. Especially when they would speak to us in English and half of us could answer back in Spanish!

Now, you can’t have a K picnic without dancing. Against the law! The music cranked up and there we were. No way out. Unless you are married to the lady, guys dance with guys and gals with gals. This is somewhat of a stretch for Westerners, especially here where the common greeting, coming and going, between men is a warm kiss on the cheeks – both of them. I’m not talking “air kisses” here! Holding hands with a guy while dancing takes some getting used to. No, I’m not trying to confess anything! I’m just trying to be transparent.

There is no escape. You can tell that peace in the Middle East depends upon what is happening during this time. All eyes are upon us, and these are NOT the eyes of Texas, though a couple in our group happen to be from Texas.

What do you do? This is kind of like joining the Polar Bear Club. You know, where morons drill holes in the ice and jump into the freezing water on New Year’s Day. You just do it. You just jump in. There is no escape.

So … I did. Yeah. Me. I D-A-N-C-E-D. At least it felt like I was dancing. Sort of. I’m sure no one else thought it was much of a dance. They just come and grab you by the hand and you’re off. As in off my rocker! But I did. Dance.

Fortunately, K picnic dancing is not very elaborate or complicated. It mainly involves stepping forward and then backward while shrugging your shoulders up and down and stuff like that. Sometimes someone on the end is waving a hankie up and down, and sometimes someone cuts loose and does a little solo jig while everyone else laughs. Or, two or three guys break off from the conga line to kick their legs back and forth together.

I signed up to follow Jesus. I wasn’t aware this came in the package. I did survive, though. Yes, I can prove I did this. There are pictures and videos. And I thank God that the sensitivity of protecting my K friends prohibits me from posting any of them in any electronic media or any public forum – ever. Thank you, Sweet Jesus!

As I silently contemplated what my life has come to, we rented two taxis to go along with our rented 12-passenger bus (see yesterday) and drove back across the mountains to another location I cannot divulge to you.

We are not in a hotel tonight, but in a facility belonging to a company working in this area. It is quite nice and the people who live here are very accommodating. We enjoyed a wonderful dinner sitting on the floor Middle Eastern style and then heard some more amazing stories. One in particular blew us away, as a gentleman told how he came to be a follower of Jesus in this area where there are so very, very few. I would love to share where he came from and how this all came about, but sadly cannot. I can tell you that your prayers for this people are being answered in a powerful, dynamic and unmistakable way. Thank you!

Flying east from Istanbul toward the neighboring country is an astounding trip! First, the snow-covered mountains of Turkey are spectacular! OK, I confess. My first thoughts are carnal, selfish and totally egocentric. Looking at those mountains I was thinking that this is the third year in a row that for one reason or another I have not been able to go skiing even once! I wonder if the Apostle Paul ever had thoughts like that. Well, at least not about alpine skiing. On a deeper layer of thought, I mulled over the record of human history that has been played out on the real estate passing 35,000 feet below me. Deeper stuff than the snow.

Mid-afternoon we landed in Erbil, or Irbil or Arbil. In case you did the Google earth thing I thought I’d help you out with some of the alternate spellings. Actually, the Kurdish name is Hewler or close to that if written in Latin script. Beyond that, I am not at liberty to tell you where we headed.

The airport here is new, very nice and up-to-date, as are many things in this boom city where construction cranes almost seem to outnumber the satellite dishes. I can’t believe the changes since I was here last a couple of years ago. Our rented bus couldn’t clear security to get to the pickup lanes by the airport, so we had to take the shuttle bus to the parking lot where it was waiting for us.

Let’s see … there are ten in our group and we ordered a 12 passenger bus.

Is that really our bus?

Several of us said that. Several times.

It was a very nice and clean bus. And it DID have 12 seats if you include the driver and places for three small children or any adults under three and half feet tall. Some of us are pretty good size boys. Oh, and did we forget to mention we might have luggage? That’s right NO luggage space in the bus, that is, if you want to use the seats.

There was a luggage rack on top. Hmmmm. Not much choice here because we’ll be driving for two or three hours. Tony climbed up on top and our driver came up with some – no, not rope, not really cord. To tell you the truth I’m not sure what it was. Kind of reminded me of that material that you weave on lawn chairs. I’m not sure I’d want to trust my fat butt to that material, let alone my luggage life-line for two weeks! We not only had luggage for ourselves but were bringing stuff for friends.

Once the bags had been stacked and looped and threaded and tied down as best as possible, we all stood back and contemplated that cute little doubt flirting around at gut level. We ARE people of faith after all, so we climbed about in order of age and size. There were some hints of grousing in the air, until the Latino delegation reminded everyone that if we were in Latin America there would still be room for another good ten or twelve people still!

Our bus driver speaks not of word of English, is a gentleman on the far side of 60 something and dresses in the traditional Kurdish baggy pants. He’s very nice, but we are trying to figure out what hand motions mean “Stop at the next 7-Evelen so we can get something to drink” in Kurdish. Somehow we got the message across and Mike and I am bopping into a little roadside store. Have I told you yet that Kurdish people are among the most hospitable and genuinely friendly people on the planet? Well, they are. We are going through both aisles of the little store snatching up snacks and armloads of soda cans – some recognizable, some not so much.

By this time neighbors are coming by to see the freak show and get their picture taken with us. We have no local currency, of course and don’t mention that until we have the equivalent of a day’s worth of trade in front of the register. Slapping down a $20, Mike steps back to let culture run its course. Neighboring store owners, assorted taxi drivers and a potential customer or two are all speaking at the same time to the shop owner, whipping out calculators and coming up with an acceptable currency exchange rate. Our second step of faith today. We got roughly $10 back and called it a very good day.

Off we went climbing into the hills. What stunning scenery! This is what Abraham might have seen when he took Sarah for a ride when they were teenagers.

Suddenly, scratch, slide, bump, bump, thud! I KNEW that was going to happen!

Beto’s suitcase is bouncing up and down on the asphalt. The driver quickly slows, I throw open the side door and jump out as he comes to a pause and begins to turn around. I am running down the highway trying to beat cars and especially trucks to the suitcase. Fortunately, they are all managing to dodge it. Arriving by the side of the accident victim, I found that the best part of this story is that the contents of suitcase were not strewn all over Ur of the Chaldees! The bad part is that with one more roll they would have been. Ur is still a ways south of here, but you get the idea.

Ever the nice guy, Beto said that he didn’t really want to take that suitcase anyway but his wife insisted. He thinks she might have prayed for something like this so he would buy her a new one. Not to worry! Beto has a cloth fold-up inside that he pulls out and piles everything right in. Others have been redoing the whatever-it-is long, skinny stuff that is supposed to hold the remaining cases in place.

We did make it the rest of the way without further incident. Winding down mountain road switchbacks, we pulled into the small, isolated city of our destination. The setting is beautiful, but Western tourism has yet to arrive. You’ve heard of Motel 6? Well, this was about a Motel 2. Not bad; we lugged the luggage into the lobby. Mike was trying to communicate with the manager on duty, or owner, or maybe just some guy who was in the lobby to ask where the ice machine was or change a bill for coins for the Coke Machine. Unfortunately, the guy spoke only two words in English – “Ten minutes.” From that we concluded that something would happen in ten minutes, but we weren’t sure what that would be. We were hoping that he didn’t really mean 50 minutes but could only count to ten in English.

Turns out that in ten minutes our local contact arrived, the one who made the reservation, to tell us that the bus dropped us off at the wrong hotel. OUR hotel was about 100, no make that about 500 yards back up the road. No problem! Roll ‘em!! Glad my little case has wheels!

Let’s see, make this about a Motel -3. Clean, spacious room, no towels, tp or drinking water. No, it’s not that they forgot to put them out. … That’s fine. I’ve been here before in a former life in Latin America. I add these details for those of you who think I live this glamorous life of waiting limousines whisking me off to Four Seasons Hotels in exotic spots on the world’s beaches.

You may have guessed – no wifi. That’s fine, but some of us were about to have a mental meltdown not being able to charge cell phones. Cell phone service is great, by the way. And, they did turn on the electricity for us. Yes, you read that right. The problem is that they use a funky plug in this area, and I forgot to carry my James Bond, one-size-fits-all plug kit. The crisis was averted, however, when I figured out how to hack the receptacle with a Q-tip and a Continental plug.

It is fairly quiet as compared to Istanbul, except that right outside my window is, not a mosque, but the spot where everyone converges to sit and smoke those water pipe thingys with the long hose-like pipes. Know what I mean? No? Geeze! When was the last time you walked around Westport! Anyway, they sit and talk and laugh and make a bunch of noise. They do this while the band takes a break and those who have been pounding on the drums rest their hands. Supposedly, this serves all kinds of social functions and needs in those parts of the world where one can’t watch Oprah. It really was fun to watch and listen – for a while.

After dinner we had gathered in one of the spacious rooms (really) and were joined by a very special visitor. He is the reason we are here. I had met him previously in circumstances I cannot relate to you. I was so anxious for those who had not met him to be able to just be in his presence and be blessed. Through a translator, he began to share his heart and tell the story of his journey and some of the incredible things that God is doing through his life in this part of the world. Despite being tired, a hush fell over the room and we all knew we were in the presence of a very, very special individual. Eyes were moistening up and lumps formed in throats.

I KNEW that was going to happen.