NTM

Each summer my parents would load up the big Ford station wagon and take us kids to Brookfield Zoo, just outside of Chicago. Some of my favorite memories were made on those hot summer days. Busy sidewalks, smelly animals, parking lot picnics, and 50 cents would get you a souvenir from the Mold-a-Rama machine. I loved everything about the zoo, but my favorite had to be The Reptile House.

This place was a boy’s dream, a massive stone building where some of the creepiest of creatures were seperated from you by nothing more than a pane of glass. It was an old building, and it was dark inside. Dark and humid. Tucked away in the shadows of a back corner corner stood a display full of giant cockroaches, easy to miss when there wasn’t a crowd of people pushing to get close. Hundreds of these roaches were housed in tall display, with concave glass not easily noticed at first, that allowed you to ‘enter’ farther into the display than any normal person would like. It was a nice place for observing the various reactions of the human animal. It was also a great spot to give your sister a push.
If memory serves, those roaches were from Madagascar. And until recently I couldn’t understand why someone would chose to live in such a place… 

It started just like all of our other encounters with the wonderful animals God has placed here in New Guinea… with a scream. We’d been told to expect roaches, and we’d seen them in other houses, but we were beginning to think that perhaps we wouldn’t have to worry about such things. Joan’s scream confirmed that we were wrong about that.

I was at the computer when Joan let me know that a rather large cockroach had greeted her in the hall. I think she was more mad than scared because she offered “to take care of this” herself. Going to the cabinet under the sink, she armed herself with a can of Bug B Gone and marched off to war.

She quickly retreated to share her analysis of the situation.

“Sweetie, its fast. REALLY FAST! I didn’t know they were that fast! Ooohhh, and its big. It’s big and it’s fast! You’ve got to do something, you’ve got to kill it!” she tosses me the bug spray as a shiver goes down her spine. I knew she was serious by the way she was hopping from foot to foot. So with a sigh, I pushed away from the desk to take on my role as Protector of the House.

I found the roach just above the door to the boy’s room, and since it was almost midnight, I thought it best to end this fight before it entered their bedroom. So I casually walked up and sprayed the roach, which was pretty big by the way, she had that much right. But it didn’t seem fast. In fact it just sat there while I blasted it with a cloud of death. Stupid roach.

I’m not sure what happened next, I’ve read that the human mind has the incredible ability to block out overly traumatic events and thus protect itself from years of counseling fees, but I do remember a giant roach emerging from the fog, propelled on wings of pure evil. Just as everything went into a Matrix-like super slow motion I had the presence of mind to remember that the Madagascar Hissing Cockroach can’t fly, which made me sure of two things, 1. This was NOT a Madagascar Hissing Cockroach, and 2. Madagascar sounds pretty nice about right now. I lost ground walking backward but continued to fire my can of death into the face of this kamikaze mutant bug while Joan and I both screamed.

The cloud dispersed. I calmed down. Joan came back from the opposite corner of the room to inspect the damage. “I didn’t know they could fly.” She said, putting her arm on my shoulder.
“I didn’t know they could fly so far. Look how far back I walked away from the wall. That thing just kept coming. And he was coming right at me! You know, it’s almost as if he…”
“IT’S ON YOU! IT’S ON YOU! AAAAHHHHH!!!”

Joan retreated back to her corner of the room, and I invented a frantic new dance. Its fun actually, you swirl around yelling “Where is it!?! Where is it?!?” while stripping down to your skivvies. Give it a try. My only suggestion would be closing the drapes, especially if your yelling has wakened the neighbors who out of concern have come to check on your well being.

So long story short, we now know a bit more about the roaches here in PNG. Our neighbors probably think there are some weird things going on over here late at night. I’ve agreed not to bring up the fact that she completely left me on my own, and ran away when there was a roach somewhere on my body. Joan has agreed not to talk about who screamed the loudest.

And we’ve both agreed not to talk about the fact that we never did find that roach.

We’ve been to town twice now, and on our second trip we stopped at a large market. Walking past the booths I found some belts. I’d forgotten to pack one, and thought this was a great chance to practice some language. So I asked for a belt.

Too short. I asked for a big belt. Not quite long enough. I specified that I was looking for a long belt, you know, a man’s belt. The seller smiled and patiently produced another belt. No luck.

Together we went through all of his belts and those on his neighbor’s table. By this time we had drawn a small crowd of very friendly people. I could tell they were friendly because all of them were smiling. Some were even laughing.

Just as the party was getting started, one of the men suggested that I try Kmart. This sounded like a great idea, so off we went.

A short drive later, we pulled up in front of Kmart. "The sign actually reads "K" [remainder of the town] MART. The owner thought that if he made the remaining letters in the name of the town as small as he could, that it might one day attract some big beltless American looking for a blue-light special."

Having located the belts behind a counter at the back of the store, I asked a nice young lady for assistance. She smiled and then we began to recreate the same scene from the market. But after about 5 belts she stopped, and just stood there, belt in hand, shaking her head from side to side. “You new here?” she asked.

Still shaking her head she looks from the belt in her hand to my somewhat ample waist and says, “You come back next month belt fit you.”

I’ll be sure to let you know next month if “belt fit me”.

We’ve made it through two weeks, so far so good. I think it’s a good sign that we haven’t asked for the Air Niugini phone number. Don’t laugh, there have been more than a few missionaries who have gotten over here only to fly right back home after a few days. I even heard about one that never left the airport…

We’ve spent most of our week going through various departmental orientations, learning our way around campus, and trying to match up faces with names. Connor and Jonas have settled in nicely at Malango school. They will be studying with fellow MKs (missionary kids), Nationals from the nearby village, and the children of a few Expats in town. The curriculum has been designed to best meet the needs of the many European children here, but with a low student to teacher ration no one gets left out. The Headmaster and faculty have really impressed us. Each teacher is a missionary with NTM, and recognizes the vital role they play in helping reach the tribes of PNG. While many are career missionaries with years of experience, some are Associates who have given a year or two of their lives to help here in the Islands Region. By the way, if you happen to know of any teachers who would be willing to spend a year surrounded by swaying palm trees and sandy beaches, let me know.

Part of our New Arrivals’ Orientation is a trip into town to get a drivers license. This was quite a cultural experience. As we piled into the van the first thing I saw was the spidered glass of the front windshield. When I asked about it I was told, rather nonchalantly, that some people like to throw stones at passing cars. In fact, I noticed most of the vehicles we saw that day had steel mesh welded in front of their windows. Our driver said that it wasn’t uncommon for people walking along the road to drag their machete down the side of your van as you pass, and that we shouldn’t worry about it. He added that it wouldn’t be a good idea to stop and talk to them about it either. No problem there!

He said we should keep a few Kina (PNG Dollars) on hand in the car, because you never know when you might run into a road block. This happens in one of two ways. Occasionally a storm will knock a tree down across the road, and a group of men will come along and clear it from the road with their machetes. For this example of community spirit and can do attitude you’re expected to shell out a few Kina if you happen to be driving by at the time. Of course, the slower you work at clearing the road the more likely your chances of people happening by. However, because most trees are fully content to stay right where they are, the more enterprising young men will take the initiative and insure that a tree comes down right where they need one. Preferably not too far from a shady spot to spend the day. But since both groups of men are armed with winning smiles and 3ft. bush knives, it pays to pay.

For us the trip to town was thankfully uneventful. And the ride back found us with official PNG driver’s licenses in our pockets. But we’ll be making the trip again in a week or two, that’s when we were told that the broken camera at the license bureau will be fixed, which is funny because our driver was told the same thing 6 months ago.

Here we are at the end of our first full week in Papua New Guinea, and we seem to be fitting in quite well. For the most part our time was spent getting our bags unpacked and settling into our apartment. Oh, and sweating. Lots and lots of sweating. Jet lag hasn’t been that bad. We stopped in Japan for a few days, and that seems to have helped. But either way you look at it we still spent 27 hours sitting in a plane. Why don’t missionary families get bumped up to business or first?

We have rented a fully furnished apartment, which we are grateful for. While it won’t be featured in Architecture Weekly, its way better than we expected. The front room, which is our kitchen/dining/living room, is long and bright, with windows that open out onto a veranda. We are on the second floor and can catch the occasional breeze off the ocean which is a short walk away. There’s electricity from a generator pretty much all day. In fact, we have all the conveniences we had back in the States. Well, maybe not all the conveniences, but we do have a fridge, a stove with an oven, a washing machine, ceiling fans (Thank you Lord!) and…Tah Dah INDOOR PLUMBING! That’s more than we can say about our first NTM house. I guess the only difference is that our stove runs on propane, and our water, all of it, comes from the roof. We drink, cook, and clean with rain water. Every time it rains, (which has been everyday lately, Forrest Gump rain) the gutters along our roof carry water to a large steel tank next to the house. I don’t know how many gallons it holds, but you could easily sink a small car inside it. From there, the water is pumped back up to a much smaller tank on our roof. Thankfully, this is done with the flip of a switch. I love electricity! Once in the small roof tank, gravity does the rest of the work and so, when you turn a faucet, fill a tub, or flush a toilet, there’s the H2O!

Now while it remains to be debated whether or not the rain falling on New Guinea is cleaner than the water in your $3 bottle, there is no debate as to the cleanliness of my new roof, its gutters, or whatever vile things might currently be taking up residence inside our water tank. So any water that will be passing down our throats goes through a big filter on our kitchen counter. Word to the wise, if you come to visit, keep your mouth closed in the shower.

Last week the Carmicals stepped off a plane and into a new life in Papua New Guinea. “It’s hard to believe that we’re finally here.” Tim said. “There have been times when we never thought we would make it this far.”

A trip to Papua New Guinea from the States covers thousands of miles, but for the Carmicals, this trip has taken 10 years.

Joan says, “NTM missionaries Dave and Carolyn Meyers, who are from our home church, took the time to get to know us individually. They shared with us God’s heart for tribal people, and the need for more workers on the field. They changed our perceptions of missionary service, and helped us see how we could help.”

That was 10 years ago.

So why has it taken so long for them to get to Papua New Guinea? Tim is quick to point out that they were neither late nor early, but arrived right on time. But in reality, the work of tribal missions is a challenging and complicated task, requiring years of specialized training.

"We’ve had 4 years of Bible college, and a year of cross-cultural communications. While some people like to joke that it took us 7 years to complete 5 years of school", Tim said "We should point out that we moved house 6 times, lived in 3 States, had another child, moved overseas for a year, and graduated debt-free. It then took us over 2 years to build enough support to feel comfortable enough to leave for New Guinea, but now we are here!"

Tim and Joan will be busy in national language/culture study and PNG Orientation before eventually heading out to a remote village location to begin work as church planters. "We’re so glad to be here! We really do count it a priviledge to be here, doing what we’re doing. Sure, we miss people, but we wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."

So for this young family, one chapter of their life has come to a close, with a new one only just beginning. And while they are no longer the people they were at the start of their journey, but there remains much to be learned, seen and experienced. They will undoubtedly be stretched, tried, and grown through as yet unknown ordeals. But they are able to rest comfortably with the knowledge that the One who has seen them through previous struggles will carry them through these new ones.

As I write this, we have 12 days remaining before we say goodbye to the United States for the next 4 years.  Early on January 9th, 2008 our little family will board a plane in Chicago that will take us to a new life of service to the people of Papua New Guinea.

Through all the years of college, specialized training and building our support team, our kids have been right there with us as a vital part of this endeavor. They have learned and grown in many of the same ways we have as parents, possibly even more so. And as such, we consider them to be missionaries in their own right.

Let me give you some examples of the things they have been dealing with just in the past few weeks:

They’ve seen all their stuff, the toys and trinkets treasured by any boy their age, packed up in boxes and put away. Some of these they will eventually see again in New Guinea, others will have to wait until our return.

They’ve said goodbye to all of their schoolmates, cleaning out their desks on the last day of school before Winter Break. And while their friends looked forward to a few weeks off, they knew that for them, this goodbye would be for real.

They’ve given away their pets to caring owners. They’ve gotten Christmas presents that they won’t be able to play with until our crate arrives months from now. They’ve gone sledding for the last time, and thrown their final snowball.

And soon they know that they will be saying goodbye to their dearest relatives, to cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents.

And yet, our two little missionaries, our Connor and Jonas, have yet to complain. They’ve not voiced one negative word, not one angry complaint, not one self-pitying moan, and not a single question of why me.

For us as parents, they have been the greatest gift that we could have asked for this Christmas Season. And we thank our God for giving them to us to take care of for a time.

Our bags are packed, we’re ready to go…                    We’re Leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when we’ll be back again…

That old John Denver song has been running through my head for about a week now. Why? Because we’re finally leaving that’s why!

We’ve purchased our tickets and will be leaving Chicago on January 9th, 2008 to begin our new life of ministry to the people of Papua New Guinea.

I hope you’ll pray for us as we make final preparations for what could be the hardest thing we’ve yet done.

Pray that we can enjoy the Christmas season despite the hectic business of getting ready to leave.

Pray that we can make the most of our last few days with family and friends.

Pray for our boys, Connor and Jonas. They have to say goodbye to their friends at school.

Pray that we’ll remember to pack everything we’ll need, and that we won’t need what we forget to pack.

Pray for us as we say our goodbyes. When looking back, 4 years goes by very fast, but it looks a lot different from this point of view.

We appreciate your prayers on our behalf. We feel privileged to be able to do what we do. We have the best jobs in the world, and consider ourselves truly blessed.

Two years ago this week, our family was living in a tent in the middle of a field, about a mile from the North Sea.

We were there as students in the Cross Cultural Communications course,  the second phase of NTM’s European Bible and Missionary Training Center. This 1 year CCC course is designed to equip believers, both practically and spiritually, to take the Good News of Jesus Christ to unreached people groups and is available to graduates of the Biblical Studies Course.

Subjects studied include Language Learning, Cultural Anthropology, Bible Translation and Church Planting. Part of the course also involves five weeks of practical language and culture acquisition which is done while simulating living in a remote area. 

For us this meant gathering all of our supplies-food, clothes, pots pans pens and paper- everything we would need, and moving into the tent that would be our home for the next 5 weeks. And once our simulation started, we weren’t allowed to leave.

As we were preparing for our time in the tents, someone left a stack of Coke-Cola at our door. We thought it was a great joke, since everyone knew Joan and I came to class with a can of Coke each day. Counting the cans, we realized there were enough for both of us to enjoy a Coke each day of Mission Simulation…

…but we had other plans.

 As July started we had been in the tents for weeks, spending 8 hours a day learning live foreign languages, and practicing all that we had learned over the year. It was time for a break.

So we, as the only American couple in the training, invited everyone for a good old Fourth of July party. We uncovered the Coke cans, and got out the hotdogs we had been saving just for this. Our friends and classmates came with salads and desserts. We even had some Sparklers and Poppers for the kids, but when your house has a grass floor, I guess those things don’t last very long. Everyone had a great time, and there were enough hotdogs and Coke-Cola for everyone!

We get to spend the Fourth with our family this year, and for that we are grateful. But since we leave for New Guinea in September, next year’s 4th of July will look a little different. While we will miss our family here in the States, we’ve seen already how the Lord gives us new family members wherever we are. Aren’t you glad you’re a part of the family of God?

Wherever you are, Happy 4th of July! 

About a month ago, we took a short trip up to Jackson MI. It was a trip we were well familiar with, in fact, we’ve made the trip so many times that I think the van could have driven the 250 miles by itself. We got into town late on a Friday night, found a hotel and hit the hay. After lunch the next day we headed back home.

It was a great trip!

You see, we had some friends who were graduating from New Tribes Bible Institute, and we wanted to be there to see them. Along for the ride was one of our good friends, a young lady who attended NTBI after hearing our missions challenge at her high school, and who hopes to finish her studies there one day.

Arriving at the Commencement Ceremony there were the expected hugs and hellos as we greeted old classmates and teachers, all of them dear friends, and all of them working toward establishing New Testament Churches within un-reached people groups. As nice as it was to see these familiar faces, I found myself scanning the crowds looking for a couple of faces in particular.

You see, our good friend JJ was going to walk across that stage in cap and gown. It didn’t seem like two years had gone by since we drove him up to NTBI for the first time. And it seemed like only yesterday that we met Melissa, working at Maranatha for the summer between her first and second years at NTBI. She’s an MK (missionary kid) from South America and a great person to know! We are very proud of these two graduates and of the work they’ve done.  

 When we graduated I didn’t really think of it as a very big deal. We didn’t even invite our parents or friends. We just saw our time at NTBI as the first phase of training for NTM missionaries.

But seeing JJ’s family there to cheer him on got me to thinking. A lot of people tend to focus on the next phase of NTM training. They like hearing stories about students living in crude houses in the woods, killing chickens for their dinner, and learning how to live life in a remote, inhospitable place. Some even ask about our church planting timeline, or our linguistic training. But not too many people make a big deal about our Bible Institutes.

I made this mistake once, but never again.

During our own time as students we experienced: exchanging  our big comfy home for a tiny apartment with no running water, leaving good jobs behind and taking on school bills, balancing time with our kids because Mom and Dad have homework, having to say no because there’s just not enough money, seeing God work in ways we never before imagined, and having the Bible opened up to us in such a way that we found ourselves asking each other "How come we’ve never seen this before?"

Dedicating two years of your life to intense, concentrated study of God’s Word is no small task. Doing it in order to reach the unreached tribes of this world is to be commended!

So, yeah, if we could do it all over again, Joan and I would invite everyone we know. We would tell them how hard it was, we would impress upon them why we did it, we would brag about how great our God was through it all, and we would beg them to look to see what part they could play in reaching this world for Christ!

FACING THE GIANTS tells the story of a small high school football team and it’s coach as they face yet another losing season. Typical in many ways, extraordinary in others, you really shouldn’t miss it. But as a missionary there were two things in particular that really stood out.

First, I absolutely loved the way everyone in the church came together to make this project happen. The DVD special features highlight church members meeting in prayer for the success of their project. Those who couldn’t act a main part, or operate a piece of technical equipment would bring lunch for the crew. It was the picture of the body of Christ acting as it should-each part doing their part. How I wish more churches would work that way in taking the Gospel where it has never been!

Secondly, I was especially moved by the coach’s ‘turning point’ speech. We’ve all seen these kind of inspirational ‘let’s turn this team around’ type speeches before. But this really moved me. The coach, faced with the possible loss of his job, and after a day spent crying out to God, comes to a new realization of his place in this world.

 He tells his team that their goal is NOT to win football games, that all those trophies will one day collect dust and be forgotten. He says, "Life is not about us. We’re not here to get glory, make money and die. The Bible says that God put us here for a purpose, to honor Him. If we win, we praise Him, if we lose, we praise Him. Either way we honor Him…..So I ask you, what are you living for? I’ve decided to give God everything I’ve got, and I’ll leave the results up to Him."

What a great summation of how we should live our lives! This world is not about us. We are not here to get all we can get. We are not here to be comfortable. We are not here for ourselves. We are here for God’s glory! Even for us as missionaries, our goal is not to see people saved. What?!? That’s right, our goal, our reason for going is to see God glorified. We are in the worship business, and it’s our job to help bring in new worshipers of the True God so that one day there will be people from every tongue tribe and nation praising the only One worthy of worship.

So, I’ll ask you what that coach asked his team,

What are you living for?