Love&Ashes has been released

My book has finally been released. Watch the trailer below. Love&Ashes: A Bible Study of Love, Loss, and Ultimate Romance is available through www.loveandashes.com or amazon.com

Unsung Hero

“Make Me Salt, Make Me Light” the verses of the song twirl through my mind, in the wake of my latest visit to Germany for the Protestant Women of the Chapel's “Worship and Study” Conference, I return exhausted and encouraged, having forged new friendships, learned and grown.

As I spent time with all these military wives, it brought back so many memories of what it was like to be in their shoes. Memories of war and deployment, absent husband, and the harried life they face each day.

While I participated in fun and fellowship, I could not shake a memory from another era in my life. The memory of refugee woman named Eliza whom I met during the Kosovo conflict in 1999 when I was doing refugee relief work in Macedonia.

She was a remarkable woman who fled her homeland with her four children. No husband. No explanation as to where he was or what happened to him. People get lost in war. Her greatest hope and dream had nothing to do with her own security. She wished to build a church in her hometown – not one of spires like the orthodox nor one with domes like the mosques. She wanted true Christianity in Kosovo.

And so she crocheted doilies to raise money to this end. She will always be one of my heroes, an unsung hero. For on the day I left Macedonia, she said she'd pray for me. And that shook me to the core. It is a truly remarkable thing when someone who stands in a place of genuine suffering can care for the needs of others.

The women of this PWOC have something in common with Eliza. For in these tenuous times, it's tough to be a military wife. The level of stress with constant deployments and cross cultural living is almost incomprehensible. And yet they go on each day. Choosing not simply to survive but to look outside their hard places and reach out to minister to the needs of others around them. It is truly remarkable.

They are the unsung heroes of the Iraqi war. And although no medals of valor will ever decorate their chest, they still walk faithfully through whatever God has called them to walk through.

Over the course of this trip I penned this poem. And although it is the story of Eliza, the refugee from Kosovo, it is dedicated to these amazing women of valor around the world who know how to walk faithfully and fruitfully, especially in the dark and hard places.

Unsung Hero

“She walks in beauty like the night,”

Lord Byron penned so long ago

Words on paper brought to life

in a refugee from Kosovo

She walked with masses, wounded, worn

Her four children walked in tow

Absent husband, Doubtful future

Hope deferred in war's harsh glow.

In the twilight, they came stumbling

down a dusty Balkan road

to a mud-walled, one-room dwelling

which would serve as safe abode.

She had nothing. She had a smile

and fingers that danced ov'r silken lace

She sold her wares not for herself

But to build a future, a better place.

In a land where Mosque and Steeple

Clash in cancerous catastrophe

She prayed her death-damaged homeland

Could receive Christianity

She walked in hope through life's bleak valley

She walked with joy, hospitality

She gave her all when she had nothing

Facing fear, fatality

Her children knew too much of landmines

terror, inhumanity

Still she walked in graceful courage

through wartime vanquished sanity

In the wake of devastation

as conflicts fade in evening hue

She packed her children to return

but stopped to say, “I'll pray for you.”

She, a woman with no husband,

She, a homeless refugee,

Looked in the eyes of one so wealthy

And said that she would pray for me!

She walked in beauty that dark night

She walked in faith and certainty

Christ alone was enough for Eliza

Could He alone be enough for me?

And so to those who walk in beauty

through all of life's dark dreadful nights

Unsung hero, unmedaled champion,

Stand strong and tall in Love's true light.

The Waiting Game.

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
and in his word I put my hope.

--Psalm 130:5

"How long must I wait?" The Psalmist asks. I love the honesty of his question. So many verses give accounts of waiting on the Lord as if it is a delight, a joy, a comfortable thing. Not for me.

I am like the guy who whines "how long must I wait!" (Ps.19:84).

And so we wait for our adoption of Levi to go through. Letters come stating we have reached the next phase, but it's all a game of waiting on a faceless bureaucracy to bring that precious face home.

Waiting is a concept that saturates the Bible. That does not make me like it any better. I am not good at it and I do not want any more practice.

But I do not have a choice.

I must wait.

But while a great deal of biblical waiting has to do with our call to wait on the Lord. The fact is that God does a great deal of waiting on us.

Unlike many missionaries, God does not typically hit people over the head with Himself. He woos and waits. He reveals aspects of Himself in unexpected ways and waits. He grants us glimpses of His love and light and waits and waits and waits for us to respond.

But we, frail and fractious creatures that we are, know what we want and we want it now! Sad thing is that we apply it to our spiritual life.

William Carey noted it in his time.

“The temper of our times is for instant gratification and short-term commitment—quick answers to prayer and quick results with a minimum of effort and discomfort.” Yep, that's me. And I know it's ugly.

So God is making me wait. And slowly I am learning to wait. But I am still not good at it. May I learn in this time of waiting that like our adoption, the conversion of one into God's family is also a process that takes time. And it is God's process not mine to manufacture. Carey said it best:

“There is no such thing as easy and instant discipleship,” Carey explains. “One can commence a walk of discipleship in a moment, but the first step must lengthen into a life-long walk.”

And so as I wait, I hope to learn to love well and in doing so discover a bit more about what a genuine patient passion for souls is all about. For Oswald Chambers rightly warns against the impatient evangelist -- he who is not willing to wait on God's work:

‎"Remember that there is a passion for souls that does not come from God, but from our desire to make converts to our point of view."

God help us in our poorly practiced discipline of simple waiting.

Miracle of Miracles!

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.--Proverbs 13:12

Wonder of Wonder

Miracle of Miracles ...

The old song from the classic musical "Fiddler of the Roof" echoed through my head a couple weeks ago when we received the phone call. Although the psychologist listed her litany of objections to the adoption, in her final analysis, she decide to give lukewarm approval to our request to adopt Levi.

Of course our paperwork must still meander through the maze of bureaucracy before Levi will be ours for keeps. But now, that tree of life has sprouted and as we bring him home for visits each weekend, we know it is all a waiting game.

But waiting is a normal part of the Christian life -- so much so, it's a wonder we all aren't better at it. "But they that wait on the Lord shall renew your strength."How many times do we quote that?

Still, Russ and I watch the calendar, speculating on whether the postal service has gotten our paperwork to the next office yet.

We wait and watch the mail for the next fateful letter that will tell us we've reached the next step in the process that will bring us our son.

Meanwhile Levi remains at the orphanage during the week, going to school each day wondering where he really belongs. Is the orphanage his home? Is the Chun house his home? The answer is yes to both right now, as we are all a family in transition.

But perhaps for him, it feels more like being just a person in transition. For the first time in his life, he is experiencing something different than his siblings. And although some have already experienced adoption and others are in the process too, his experience is unique.

He is being adopted by people who speak English -- Americans to boot!

It's a crazy world in which we live. It's an imaginitive God who could take seven siblings and find them all homes within a year -- with parents determined to keep all the kids in touch. It is indeed a wonder of wonder and miracle of miracles. And it's one worth waiting for.

And so we wait, no longer with hope deferred, but with hope renewed. Now we await the emergence of that tree of life on that coming day when the longing is fulfilled and the Chun family of five comes into its completion.

HeartSick

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.``

--Proverbs 13:12

We entered the summer with hearts dancing with excitement. The adoption seemed to be rushing forward with unimaginable momentum as so many hopes and dreams grew as Levi spent fully six weeks with us during camp season.

Under our roof, we watched as the quiet, unassuming child blossomed into outgoing comic wrapped up in little boyhood, and we emerged as a new kind of a Chun family -- one with five faces instead of four, melded into a kind of clan any human imagination would never dare to assemble. We embraced it as God's better plan, and prayed and hoped that God would grant us supernatural favor within the bureaucracy and Levi would be truly ours by summer's end, able to start school in the fall with us.

It was all a beautiful dream -- until hope was deferred.

The last major step in the process, the psychological evaluation, which we expected to be a cordial meeting, spiraled into a nightmare of hostility, prejudice, and accusation. We emerged perplexed and the follow up meeting with our daughters, Andi and Niki, (fully six weeks later) left me wishing I'd never allowed the psychologist time alone with my children.

The psychologist seemed dead set against us from square one. And now we wait for her official evaluation with sick hearts as so many hopes have been deferred.

But ours is not a unique plight. Hope deferred has become a standard state in this fallen world.

Many such hopes and dreams are good and righteous and God-seeded in the hearts of people -- still hope is deferred and the heart grows sick. For some it is the child they've hope for, fought for, yet miscarried again and again. For others it's the spouse they've longed for, waited for, trusted God for and still the years pass by and no one comes. For others still, and perhaps most tragically, they've held that longed-for child, or kissed that beloved spouse, only to have him ripped from their arms and torn for their souls by the cruel blade of death's grim reaper.

And so hope is deferred. And hearts reel in the agony of it all.

We respond to this heart sickness in many different ways. Russ avoids breakfast, because Levi and he always shared a special early breakfast together. He naps in Levi's room, so it does not feel so empty. But as I clean that tiny room and it remains clean far too long, we all face that profound void in the absence of what should be.

On August 15, we hope to learn the official result of our psychological evaluation. We have low expectations, knowing there could be long road ahead of us as we fight for our Levi. He may not be our child on paper, but he is already the son of our hearts.

And so for the moment hope has been deferred and our hearts are sick. But we believe there will come a day when this dream will be fulfilled and it will be a tree of life to us and others who witness it.

Not everyone gets to experience their righteous dreams fulfilled in this lifetime. May it be enough to know that our Lord, Jesus Christ is the fulfiller of our dreams for all eternity. For all our hopes are never extinguished, they are only deferred for a season -- until we embrace Him face to face.

Preparing a Place

There is more than enough room in my Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am. John 14:2-3

I never thought much about this concept of "preparing a place" for someone until recently. As we have begun the process of adopting Levi, I have poured myself into building his room, an undertaking that involved everything from framing and drywall to painting and building shelves. And as I engaged in this process, one verse echoed through my mind daily. " I go to prepare a place for you."

It has been with great delight I have drilled and hammered. As my back and arms ache from each day's strenuous activities, I can only smile and dream of giving this special place, crafted with him in mind to Levi that fateful day when he becomes our own.

Each time we meet and interact, I probe him with questions to discover what spark's his young imagination that I might incorporate more and more tiny details of who he is into the place I am preparing for him.

The place is a product of our relationship, which is only in its infancy and yet this small room is also a reflection of all I perceive him to be. It has been crafted meticulously out of love and devotion, designed to instill security, comfort and hope into a little boy who has already gone through so much in his nine years of life. It is a symbol that he is ours and we are his for when he moves into that room to stay, he will be a Chun by adoption.

Like the disciples in the verses preceding this passage, life must be very confusing for Levi. Last weekend four of his brothers went to live with their adoptive family for good. We come and spend time with him and then have to say good bye. And when we do, he wraps his arms around Russ and squeezes as if he would perish if he dared let go. But he knows he must, for he is not yet ours.

And when I watch him hold onto Russ I want to say, "Don't worry Levi, we are going to prepare a place for you! A place of your very own where you belong. And when everything is prepared, then we will certainly return for you!"

In this experience, I have caught a glimpse of a heavenly truth. I can now imagine Christ pouring himself into preparing a place for each one of us -- a place of perfect design, crafted out of love and relationship, tailored to perfection to meet our every need. And in this preparation, He takes great joy for it represents what is coming -- us truly becoming wholly his.

So as we face the confusing moments of this life, when God seems to have turned away, we must hold on to the truth that He is never far. He is probing us and developing relationship with us as He joyfully prepares that place that we shall one day occupy as He bring us into Himself completely -- forever.

Backtalk

But who are you, a mere man, to criticize and contradict and answer back to God? Romans 9:20 (Amplified)

Yesterday, I was evil.

I had dropped the girls off at school and was driving into Debrecen when I, being a law abiding citizen, stopped at a red light. Patiently I waited as the seconds ticked away. I watched as the local panhandler approached the car ahead of me. I come by this corner so often I almost feel as if I know these guys. It's always one of two: either the old man with a beard or the young man with a crutch. They seem to take shifts as they are never there at the same time.

Yesterday, the young man with a crutch was "on duty." He stood by the passenger side window of that car in front of me held out his hands beseechingly, but the driver would not even acknowledge his presence. Eventually the young man with a crutch moved on ... to my car.

Some years ago, I heard a man who worked with the homeless talk about how damaging it is for the down-and-out when the populace outright ignores them. "At least look them in the eye and treat them like a fellow human being," he had said. And I took the advice to heart. Although I don't give money to random people, I can show them honor and respect.

The young man, probably in his early 20s, hobbled over to my car. He took a humble stance and mumbled his schpeel in Hungarian. I looked at him kindly and said in simple, yet polite Hungarian, "I'm sorry, no."

Bad move on my part.

To my surprise, the man refused to move on to greener pastures. He fixed his feet firmly beside my car and motioned again that I should give him some money.

Still looking him straight in the eye, I said more strongly and firmly: Nem!

But this did not deter him. Now his demeanor changed. No longer beseeching me to show grace and grant him my spare change, now he began hitting my window demanding money.

Perhaps I should have been afraid. But I was too angry for that. With fire in my eye, I leaned over in the seat to face him squarely and shouted determinedly: "NEM! NEM!"

Since he showed no sign of moving on, I shoved my car in gear and moved up a meter or so to hug the car ahead of me, secretly hoping I would roll over his "good" foot in the process.

How dare he! I scoffed angrily as I watched him approach the next car in my rearview mirror. Who does this guy think he is!?!?!?

The whole episode got my back up for the rest of the day, so much so, that I could not help but wonder why it bothered me so much.

Utterly rude ... competely obnoxious ... outrageous ... absurd

Yeah, it's true, desiring to run over his foot is not likely the proper WWJD response. But I also don't buy that the honest WWJD response would be to cowtow to this bully. Jesus was no mamby-pamby, weenie of man. He was the Christ who overturned the money lenders, took on the prevailing dogma of the day, and spoke words that cut like swords to the very core of the issue in each person's life.

Christ was no pushover, so as I lay on my bed last night, I wondered what lesson I was to glean from this life experience. And as I began to mull over the life lessons God has instilled in me of late, I realized when I get riled like this it is often because I am in some way like the person who has riled me.

Me like HIM ... you've got to be kidding.

But then I thought. This is how I sometimes come to God. Sometimes I come properly, beseeching Him in all humility realizing that all the good gifts of this life are by His grace. And then every once in awhile, when I am experiencing His affection and honor toward me, I suddenly decide I can demand things of Him -- even when He compassionately, yet firmly, says "no." And so I "criticize, contradict and answer back to God." (Rom 9:20)

And at that moment, I am not so different from the crazy panhandler hitting my window. Unlike me, God does not get angry and try to run over my feet. Instead, he continues to look at me with His great compassion and He patiently waits for me to understand He has made available all that I will ever need, but I'll never obtain it through my demands and temper tantrums. I'll only discover it through relationship with Him.

For in relationship, He gives his grace utterly and sacrificially.

Relationship is what Christianity is all about. And while we might like mask our demands and criticism of how God is working in the spiritual lingo of "prayers" and "prayer requests." Such mechanisms were never designed to give us an opportunity to tell God how to handle any given situation. Prayer is not us changing God's mind. Prayer is an opportunity to let God change us through fellowship with Him.

So let's fellowship with Him today in all humility -- releasing Him from all the demands we'd like to make. Let's just be with Him and trust Him to handle the rest.