| Of all things Czech |

What a rush, what a thrill. With tears in my eyes and a heavy heart, I say goodbye to this great country, to this great people, and to a place that has only up to go. While we may have experienced that the Czech Republic is a dark and atheistic country, a glimmer of light exists in at least one place; there, on the lake at Immanuel Youth For Christ Conference Center, dwells a lighthouse for all who are weary and all who are lost.

In my journey through this foreign land, I have found that one of my best attributes is less than useful. I have found that the gift of well-spoken speech is not near as useful as I’m used to. However, this has caused me to stretch and grow in my understanding of love as a verb, not simply a word. I have had to act on this love that I know so well. Through the small and the mundane, through the smiles, the kindness, and through broken sentences, I have tried my utmost and my best to be one who loves.

I see a need. I see a hurting that calls out to me. I see a wonder that has me dazzled and dazed, wondering if this is where God wants Emily and I. Certainly there are questions and unknowns just around the corner, but I am confident that if I stay centered in God, I will remain in God’s will. And if I never return to this place, it will always be cherished in my heart, and it will certainly be one of the core events that shapes my ministry for God.

The church is broken. It’s severed, with open gashes and only bandaids to stop the bleeding. A single breach of trust leads to a mountain of hurt, and distrust and distance follow. People stop relying on each other. Individuality and selfishness are like vipers waiting to snap their vicious fangs at the most opportune moment. The body ceases to function as it should, and the very fabric of the church splits leaving a new gash to bleed.

As short term missions go, we are not doctors. Only God can truly heal the hurt; only He can repair that which has been broken. But we who are here only for the short term must do our best to comfort and love on the hurting. I was taught in CPR/First Aid that a person in shock needs a blanket, comfort, and constant conversation. In a similar way, we are not there to mend the gashes, but to provide comfort, to show God’s love in tangible ways, and to plead that God would heal. “Comfort, oh comfort my people.” (Isaiah 40)

When I say plead, I do not simply mean that we pray. I mean a specific type of prayer; I mean prayer that begs and begs and begs some more, such that our persistence pleads God to move and act. The parable that Jesus teaches in Luke 11 on prayer is one that resonates with this idea. God calls us to knock fervently and without end. He urges us to call out to him again and again, and to knock persistently on his door.

God, may You be with these people,
May you turn Your face to shine upon them,
May you shine Your light here in this place,
And turn apathy into passion, and sorrow into joy.

God, I’m asking You to heal,
May you repair all who are hurting,
May you strengthen all who are weak,
And turn pain into endurance, and decay into new life.

God, remember Your people here,
May you rise up a nation after You,
May you enlarge Your territory,
And use Your servants to increase Your kingdom.

Amen.