MY NAME IS RUTH. I am in the 11th grade and will graduate next year. I want to share with you my story, and describe how our challenges shape our character and fill us with the strength to persevere. I am convinced that in Jesus there is always hope. With God, nothing is impossible.
My father and my mother are from different ethnicities; my father comes from Kalimantan and my mother is from Java. Especially in that generation, someone from Kalimantan would usually not marry someone from Java. So, when they fell in love and decided to get married, both families didn’t agree because of their cultural traditions. Because of the animosity of their families, my mom and dad had to leave their village, and find a place where they would be accepted. They moved to a small village and worked there as farmers. That is where I was born. We had almost nothing, but my parents raised us in a loving home. My family was my comfort zone. I knew that my family loved and received me, and my family environment instilled confidence in me.
My mother never had a chance to go to high school, but she taught me everything she knew and made sure that I went to elementary school. She was my motivator, and my father was for me a rock of strength. God blessed me with wonderful parents. My childhood was amazing. My brother and I were always ranked among the best students in our school (so, as our reward from our teacher at school, we got books, pencils, and everything we needed to study). I liked to climb trees, swim in the river near our house, and walk into the jungle with my father. I often helped my parents work in the rice field.
When I was 8 years old, my father suddenly died. Our lives suddenly became a disaster. I was enraged with God. He took my father, who I had loved so much. But, somehow we had to stay alive. My mother, brother and I continued working in our garden for food. Sometimes my mother helped our neighbor for a bit of pay so my brother and I could keep going to elementary school. I was so mad at God! Why did He make our lives this hard? I didn’t understand. I believed He didn’t love me, because he caused this immense pain. I always asked Him where are you? You say that You love me, but where is Your love? Where is Your grace and mercy? Why don’t You protect me and lift this burden?
My brother eventually moved on. So, that left only me and my mother. The final year of junior high was the hardest time, but I did well in school. The lowest mark that I got in my classes was 9, and I usually got 10’s. I graduated as the top ranked student in my school. Was I Proud? Yes, I was proud for about a week. Then I had to come back to reality. There was no money to continue my education. What was the use of my achievements in junior high school, if I didn’t have the opportunity to advance to high school? God wasn’t answering my prayers! My life was in chaos. I didn’t want to meet my friends who were talking about their plans to enter high school. I ran from reality. Wanting to be happy, I chose the wrong friends.
One night I hit rock bottom. It was a quiet night. I felt a deep loneliness that caused me to weep. I thought, “no one understands me!” Finally, that night, I faced a moment of decision. My soul cried out, “I refuse to give up hope!” I knew I had to find a job and work hard. So, I walked away from my village. Eventually I found a job and began carefully saving money for my education. I enjoyed my job, but every day, after work when I came back to my room, I would always cry. I missed my mother, and I had to be wise with the money that I had. But, I kept praying and survived.
After a few months, my mother came, and told me about a high school that might just provide me with a scholarship. I could live in a dormitory and all I needed to do was focus on my studies. God had finally answered my prayer.
Now I live in the Mustard Seed school dormitory. In this school, I am being mentored, and taught to use my time wisely. I have met people from different backgrounds. My experiences here are shaping my character. It is not easy, but it is good for me. At the age of 17, I met Jesus personally. I have decided to leave my past, my pain and my selfish attitude and live for God.
THIS WEEK OVER FOUR HUNDRED children and youth from around our city converged on our school Charis. And so, a new academic year begins. Over 400 stories being created in the fusion of our CREATOR, his creativity, and his creation. Every sentence spoken, every kick of a ball, every conversation, and warm greeting another stroke of holy ink scrolled across the Creator’s canvas.
Kezia, a 7th grade student from Borneo nervously settles into her chair. A 12th grader named Nathania ponders her growing desire to become a physician, while her best friend Fonda is excited to become a kindergarten teacher. Two teachers on campus have fallen in love. A chess tournament is forged into the memories of 5th grade children.
Story after story; each filled with meaning and purpose.
SPEAKING OF STORIES, I really enjoyed this video of Steve Jobs speaking at the Stanford graduation. His talk is titled: HOW TO LIVE BEFORE YOU DIE. He launches his talk with, “Today, I want to tell you three stories from my life. That’s it. No big deal. Just three stories.” His three stories are most certainly worth listening to. They portray how the events of our lives converge to form stories; stories that can be of immense benefit to others.
As I promised a few days ago, here is a second story from another one of the students in Borneo.
CALL ME RAHMAN. My father’s name is Sader and my mother’s is Mastainah. I have a younger sister, Santi Widia Astuti, and a younger brother, Yanto Wijaya. My father works in another man’s rice field. Every morning, he goes to the rice filed and after school, my younger brother and I help him. My mom usually comes to bring us lunch at noon. We live far away from town and there isn’t a Senior High School. I like to study, but it was impossible to advance from Junior High school. My parents had no money to pay for my studies. We were just trying to figure out how we were going to eat each day, let alone pay for an education.
One day, my father’s friend told him that there is a Christian school with a dormitory in Banjar Baru that might possibly offer a scholarship. Could I? I couldn’t believe it! I desperately wanted to go to that school. It was my chance for a better future. We did not have money for go to Banjar Baru, but my father sold some stuff that was in our house and borrowed money from the owner of the rice field, so that we could travel to Banjar Baru. Every night on that trip, I prayed to my gods (I believed they live in the trees, rivers and mountains), and asked them to give me a sponsor so I could study at that school.
One day, we received a letter from the Mustard Seed school. I had been granted a scholarship and could stay in the dormitory! So, now I study at the Mustard Seed Senior High school. I am so happy! The chance to go to this school is beyond anything I had ever dreamed. Right now, I am in 12th grade. God is so GREAT! He takes care of me and my family. He is the reason that I can study at the Mustard Seed School. He has a perfect plan for my life.
At the Mustard Seed school, I have discovered the Creator, the loving God. I couldn’t understand why people who didn’t know me would become my sponsors and help me to reach my dreams for an education. I didn’t understand… I wanted to know more about a God who would love me this much. This God has taken my heart away from the gods of the mountains, the trees and rivers that I worshipped as a child. This God has rescued me, given me a sponsor, so that I could have an education. I met Jesus in this school and received Him to be my Savior. Jesus is lovely, not like the gods from my childhood.
The teachers love me. I can see feel, hear and experience God’s love through them. I hope that my parents and my younger brother and sister will know and receive Jesus Christ as their God. Nothing is impossible for Him. There is a chance for me to continue studying, and I am starting to dream about continuing my education at the university level. My parents don’t have the money for it, but I can work. I believe that if God can give me the chance to continue my study at the Mustard Seed High School, He can also make my other dreams become a reality. I need to do my part to study hard and believe God for His provision.
From the time my children were very small, they begged me to tell stories. No matter what story I conjured up, nor how improbable the events in my stories, Katie, Josiah and Stephen were enraptured. My stories rarely had much of a plot. They went nowhere. They were created spontaneously. But my kids clung to every word. Why?
Because that’s how God created them.
God has so much that He wants to communicate to us about himself. He wants us to know his heart, his love, his passions, his holiness and his beauty. He wants us to catch powerful glimpses of his engagement with his creation and the future he is creating for us. How does God choose to communicate with us?
For the most part, he simply tells stories.
All of us have a story, and God wants us to share that story with others. Are you ever nervous about witnessing to others? Just tell stories. People love stories. After all, they’re just like big kids. Their world stands still when someone is telling a story. That’s how God created them. All of us who are followers of Jesus (the greatest story teller of all.) should hone the art of sharing a story.
Many of the students in our schools here in Indonesia have stories. Over the next few days, I want to share with you a few of their stories that have been translated into English. These stories are very simple and yet profound. Each one reveals the motif of God’s grace and intervention. They each portray a shade of his undeniable love.
Here’s the first one.
My friends call me Ayu. I am from a Christian family, and I am the first child and have four brothers. I have gone to church since I was a child. I went to Sunday school, youth group and had lot activities at church. I was involved in Christian activities, but I never had a relationship with God.
When I was a junior in High School, I became pregnant by one of my cousins and had to quit school. I felt that my life had been destroyed, and all my dreams were shattered. I was responsible for what I had done. I thought about having an abortion, so that I could continue my life, but my parents didn’t like that. After a long conversation with my family, and because of my aunt’s recommendation, my parents sent me to a dormitory called “Gembala baik” (good shepherd) in Jakarta. God gave me a place to stay; it is a place for teenagers who are pregnant without being married.
When I was there, I was so afraid of other people’s reactions, and what they would think about me. But, this place was so different: they loved me, received me, and cared about me. This was new for me, because I had never felt that way before. This was the first time I felt, knew, and understood about God’s love, and learned more about Jesus. I lived there for a few months. They gave me hope, and helped me to prepare myself to be a mom. I learned a lot of skills until my baby was born. Praise the Lord that my parents forgave me. My parents even took my son and adopted him to become their son and my little brother.
After that, I applied to the Mustard Seed school in Kalimantan and was accepted to continue my education. When I came to the Mustard Seed school, I was a little bit afraid, because I didn’t have money to pay the tuition, and I was worried. Would they receive me and provide a scholarship? I was overwhelmed with excitement and gratitude when I heard that they had a sponsor for me, so I could study there. The process to continue my education at the Mustard Seed High School was challenging, but I pressed forward. Praise the Lord that I was able to graduate.
From the challenges and wrong choices I have made, I have truly discovered the meaning of God’s love. I will sometimes fail, but I will never give up. I want to continue to chase my dream. I have chosen to follow God. My heart wants to tell everyone around me about His love and His kindness, and let them know that they can have a future.
Since I was child, I dreamed of pursuing my education all the way to getting a Master’s Degree and travel outside of Indonesia. But now my dream has changed. I don’t want to work just to have a job and be secure, but be more focused on God and dedicate my life to Him only. I want the world to know how great our God is and how He changes lives. I have failed and I know the feeling of giving up, of believing that there is no future. I am alive again; there is a hope and a future for me, yeah! Praise the Lord that He recovered my life. When I surrender and trust in Him, He saves and makes me free. So, I want people know who Jesus is, so that they can be free too!
In 1985, hundreds of parents in the remote Borneo village of Kaladan longed for a junior high school for their children. At the time, there were three Christian families living in this village of approximately 10,000 people. One of these individuals had heard of an organization named Mustard Seed International, which builds Christian schools, youth ministries and orphanages, and trains national teachers to serve in impoverished and unreached communities. Mustard Seed leaders were sent to visit Kaladan. At the time, Kaladan was dominated by two religions; Islam and Keharingan. Keharingan is a mixture of Animism and Hinduism. Many of the people in Kaladan worshipped the bones of their ancestors, and paid homage to monkey spirits who controlled their village.
Read MoreThere is a popular television show in Indonesia called, "Minta Tolong!" which basically means “I need help!” Every week a hidden camera crew sends out a down-trodden person into the streets to ask for help from strangers. In a recent episode an actress playing a destitute beggar went from person to person, asking for a blanket for her child. She was holding a ratty newspaper and offered to trade it if they would give her a blanket. Person after person said no. She would plead with them, “Please, my child is cold and doesn’t have a blanket. Don’t you have an extra one at your house?” They would brush her off and she would then go on to the next person. After numerous rejections one kind soul finally said yes, giving the beggar lady a sling she was using for her own child. The beggar then gave her newspaper to the kind lady, and inside it was a very large sum of money. The crew came out and interviewed the kind hearted soul, who was overcome with emotion and didn’t want to accept the money at first. She finally did at the interviewer’s insistence as tears streamed down her shocked face. How many of the people who said no would have said yes if they knew that inside that dirty newspaper was a loot of cash?
Read MoreYears ago, I was exchanging emails with a coworker regarding some important decisions in the organization where we both served. This friend and I did not live with the same aspirations for the organization, and our communication was deteriorating from friendly warm to irritatingly chilly; icy enough, that is, to burn a permanent scar into the landscape of our friendship. Feeling nervous about this downward spin, I went to my brother Steve for help. Steve is one of those rare individuals who consistently offer beneficial advice. His counsel was simple, penetrating and life altering.
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All American writers since the mid 20th century stand in the shadow of Ernest Hemingway. Known for punchy sentences and muscular verbs, Hemingway established the standard for American story telling. He wrote, “Prose is architecture, not interior decoration, and the Baroque is over.” Leery of adjectives, Hemingway was a minimalist who dragged paragraphs through fire until the cheese melted.
The result? Stainless steel sentences. When challenged to write a story with six words, Hemingway responded with:
For sale: baby shoes, never used.
Minimalism is more than a method of writing. It is the relentless seeking for truth in a smoke and mirrors generation. It is the way of genuine freedom.
Minimalism and integrity somehow seem like they are related. If I am a story, make me a short story. I crave simplicity. Carve away my empty words. Sweep away my vanity. Give me someone to love, and something to die for and I will be content. Yes, I think I am becoming a minimalist. When the chaff has finally drifted away, and I breathe one last time, what else will matter but that which crosses the threshold into forever?
“Each one’s work will become clear; for the DAY will declare it, because it will be revealed by fire; and the fire will test each one’s work.”
I Corinthians 3:13
By Paul Richardson To me, wine tastes about as delicious as gasoline. Yet, having been a waiter for six years, I understand the wine drinking ethos. Most folks who order a glass of wine with dinner are simply casual wine drinkers. Their motivation is to impress their dinner companions, and they really don’t have a clue as to whether they are drinking something exquisite or worthless. Some rare people, though, don’t just casually drink wine. They are actual connoisseurs. Now, I must point out that you should not be allowed to say the word connoisseur unless you can pronounce it with a French accent, which counts me out. Wine snobs … I mean, connoisseurs, don’t just put wine in their mouths and guzzle it down like a dog standing over its dish. For wine connoisseurs, drinking wine is really more of an experience. Skipping stones is sort of like this.
Read MoreBy Mike O'Quin Facebook is so new that my spellcheck doesn’t even recognize it. Every time I type in the word “facebook,” Microsoft Word underlines it with a red squiggly to let me know it isn’t a real word. Ironically, MS Word doesn’t recognize the word “spellcheck” either, which also gets a squiggly—I guess it’s technically two words though with time I bet it will grammatically merge into one. I’m sure newer versions of spellcheck won’t dare leave Facebook out. This social media site is so ubiquitous in our world it’s hard to imagine how we twittered our time away without it. Or is that tweeted away our time? John Piper said of these social medial phenomenons, “One of the great uses of Twitter and Facebook will be to prove at the Last Day that prayerlessness was not from lack of time.” Ouch. There is a much older version of Facebook. The ancient Scriptures liken themselves to a mirror that a man holds up to his face. The apostle James uses this analogy.
Read More“Were you scared moving here?” we ask Jonas. “Yeah, a little,” the smiling young man answers, and then relates the story of his transition from his predominantly Christian island in East Indonesia to this hard-core, widely-feared Islamic island of Madura. I’m on Madura today with a short term team from a church in Boston, and we’re being introduced to the staff of an English center which is led by my friend Charles from California. A few years ago he and his family formed a team from the church they served in nearby Surabaya and moved across the Madura Strait to reach Muslim people with the good news of Jesus and to help serve them practically by teaching English. Jonas was one of the first to volunteer for the team and now works in the English center.
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