Foreign Exchange Siblings

The fire was small and orange, caged in by a rectangle of bricks, but its light was warm and rich and free. It waltzed on faces that were becoming familiar. Five of us sat in this light, trying to know each other without sharing a thought. Tom and I spoke very little Russian, the three girls spoke very little English. And it was only the five of us in the middle of a Ukrainian forest.

Vika was the first to speak, her words like a held breath released. “We sing for you?” A question to which the only answer was yes, enthusiastically yes, with heads nodding. Vika began a song, the other two followed. It was beautiful.

The words, if there were any, escaped me but the tune was unmistakable. The three orange, dancing faces sang a song of praise to the God that the five of us together called Father. Melodies and sweet harmonies, their words encrypted to my ears but their hearts lain open before me as picture books.

Tom and I thanked and praised them for their performance.

Vika: “Now you sing.” How could we say no?

We began a duet of the same song that the girls had just finished so beautifully. Their flickering faces showed us that the connection was complete. We, the five of us, knew each other because God had first known us, adopted us, and shaped us.

Because we called upon the same Father, the words that we called with ceased to matter.

The Greatest Auto Mechanic

I’ve driven a certain Jeep Cherokee for the last seven years. Someone else (supposedly the dealer’s son) drove it for 10 years before that. My car, though I call her classic, is just plain old. About four years ago she started to show her age. She needed a new alternator, a catalytic converter – one time the harmonic balancer, a five-pound piece of metal, just fell off. Clang. It got to the point that I would not feel comfortable driving anywhere over three hours away; she didn’t do well over three hours.

Then I got optimistic. A friend and I wanted to go camping. He drove a little sports coupe at the time and we all know that you don’t go camping in a sports coupe. We took the Jeep. I have to hand it to her, she did well driving north to the Sierras. It’s a long way up that 395 and she chugged through it. Then we turned off and headed up the mountain. Soon something was wrong. She wasn’t idling right, she wanted to cut out. We got to the campsite, turned her off and I decided not to worry about it for a week. We were camping.

After a wonderful few nights in the mountains we headed back down the hill. Something was definitely wrong. Anytime that my foot wasn’t on the gas she would die. To brake I had to shift her into neutral, keep my foot on the accelerator and hit the brake. It was an interesting style of driving.

I asked the mechanic in the nearest town if it was something easy – a busted hose, a lose gasket, anything. It wasn’t.

I drove her all the way back to L.A. in her limping, wounded state. My mechanics patched her up, but she would never be the same. To this day she dies if I don’t give her the right amount of gas in first. And she’s an automatic.

But that being said, she hasn’t had a problem in two years.

There was a year or so where I was dumping a few hundred dollars a month into her to keep her running. Soon I was broke and had little faith in my car to get me anywhere. It’s amazing how much trust we put in our cars. We are very, very dependent.

Finally, at the end of my rope, or exhaust system as it may be, I broke down and prayed to God. I told Him that I needed a car; that I wanted to do things for Him and myself that required transportation. I told Him that I couldn’t afford a new car. I asked that He either keep my car running or provide some new means of transport.

Since then it’s just been brakes and oil. Praise God! Not only for His faithfulness, which is what I now trust rather than my car. But also for his aptitude under the hood.

God does not discriminate

A young, energetic missionary trekking through the hills of Northern India… God will use him.

A wise old pastor, seasoned with the endless questions, problems and issues of his flock… God will use him.

A compassionate mother who finds herself burdened with a love for Romanian orphans… God will use her.

A sophomore in high school, recently saved and on fire for his Savior… God will use him.

An old married couple living in the suburbs on retirement money… God will use them.

A young woman who recently married an ambitious man, and who more recently found a loving savior… God will use her.

A confused twentysomething, searching for meaning and direction in life… God will use her.

A recovering alcoholic whose family remains broken and hurting… God will use him.

A traitor, a prostitute, a Pharisee, a cynic, a cripple, a beggar, an adulterer, a murderer… God will use them - he has before.

God will use you. God will use me. God will use us all.

Praise God.