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November 7, 2024November 6, 2024

Happy Tears

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named*

Until their December visit to Colorado’s Bear Trap Ranch, several of the students had never seen snow. We offered up simple tips on navigating snow and ice after witnessing through barely-concealed grins their earlier attempts at the challenge.

Each exhilarating day of broomball on ice, indoor table tennis, family group, (pretend) Olympic games, and mountain hikes would at last wind down with mealtime. This was followed by a Christian ‘talk’ presented by a guest speaker. Nate Mirza of The Navigators endeared himself to the community time after time.

Through a small library toward the gathering room we moved after dinner, passing beneath the mounted head of a large and quite imposing form. The taxidermied head of ‘Bruce The Moose’ was affixed to a strong interior wall, peering down like a sentry keeping watch over library shelves laden with their literary stock.

I reflect on those yearly wintry seasons together with other community-centered events in a wide range of settings where groups of international students meet with a blend of fellowship, service and faith. I am stirred by a mix of nostalgia and gratitude. Whether it’s Bear Trap Ranch, the Springtime Car Care Clinic, our Saturday night ‘Strings n’ Things’, or road trips to Branson or St. Louis or Houston. One element seemed always to mark these times. The sense of family.

The final day of Bear Trap’s ‘International Student New Years Houseparty’ arrived – accented by scores of students scurrying about, rushing to toss their luggage into a waiting car or van. And (more urgently) rushing to get in a last hug from another student or campus ministry sponsor – complete strangers seven days before. Emotions ran high and winter coat sleeves served as Kleenex substitutes to catch the occasional and abrupt stream of tears.

A casual passerby taking in the scene might readily sense a sacred movement in the way a touching piece of music can stir heartstrings. Seeds of friendship had found their way into fertile soil within a short span at Beartrap. And some had been drawn deeper and deeper into a tighter-than-ever, more settling than imaginable, family identity. Through one who stays closer than a brother*.

October 31, 2024October 30, 2024

Wardrobe Check

Family.

Few ‘stand-alone’ words carry greater force in stirring emotions. For some, all manner of feelings can lie poised to erupt just at the mention of “family life”. A lot of them are feelings most of us know, springing as they do from memories out of our past. Stirring emotions ranging from cozy and warm to jagged and piercing, depending upon relationships enjoyed. Or not enjoyed.

While writing this, fresh news came of the death of a dear friend’s father. My friend, Amit – receiving word of his dad suddenly falling ill bought air tickets. He reached his native India from the U.S. shortly before the patriarch’s passing. The father and son shared a close bond. Reaching the homeland to console his mother, Amit now joins her in the mourning.

Family ties run deep. Few narratives in all the world’s literature bring the truth home so powerfully as Jesus’ story of the lost (prodigal) son. And it is the Luke 15 parable – introduced, contemplated and discussed – that rocked the world of a long parade of students. The routine had grown as predictable as the Rocky Mountain snows for the diverse groups, day after day and year after year, each morning just after breakfast. Bear Trap’s seven or eight Family Groups – each comprised of eight or so sharp college students of varying nationalities – combed through the passage with keen interest. Outright astonishment met most of them in the end, as the narrative portrayed outrageous selfishness colliding head-on with (a father’s) outrageous affection.

Campus ministers facilitating the group discussions were struck by notable reactions by the internationals. Hardly ever was there a student whose conscience was stung over the sin of brazen hedonism and wasteful living characterized by the story’s younger brother. However, many of these scholars from abroad (well-behaved, performance-focused) resonated with the conflicting struggles of the elder sibling. He’s the one who kept his nose clean, yet carried just as much ‘heart-distance’ toward the father as did the scandalous kid brother.

in Family Group time we were brought to wrestle with matters of the heart. Discovering in the process that we fractured souls, all of us, come draped in a collection of ill-fitting garments of our own tailoring.

October 24, 2024

Bear Trap

Apart from a moment or two navigating Mt. Kilimanjaro’s steeps, it was the nearest I have come to sliding off a mountain.

Heavy snows had fallen across the Rockies. The drivers of the 15-passenger vans that our team had filled with Christmas-break college students strained to maneuver steep, slippery terrain. Our destination, Bear Trap Ranch, lay West of Colorado Springs at an elevation of nine thousand feet.

Intervarsity Christian Fellowship had purchased the property decades earlier, transforming it over time into the perfect mountain retreat venue. Bear Trap Ranch played host every winter season to the International Student New Year’s Houseparty.

Keenly-atuned drivers maneuvered the vans up the snow-laden (Old Stage) Road leading to Bear Trap, successfully averting disaster.

A handful of slopes surrounded the Ranch, each boasting its own distinctive peak. These kept watch over the campground below.

Year after year through a treasured week, bookended by Christmas and New Year’s Day, scores of internationals and their respective campus sponsors got the familiar, wide-armed welcome from IVCF staff and campsite workers.

By weeks’ end, the energies of our Tulsa group along with all the others, spanning schools from Nebraska to Texas, were gloriously spent. Broomball on ice, indoor square dance, New Year’s talent show, With scrumptious dining at every meal, with cross country skiing and coffee-time chats, every social interchange proved to claim a piece of the student’s souls.

But a crowning element, like strong glue bridging the divide – of culture, language, personality – percolated upward and outward from Day One. Starting every morning at 9:00.

Family Group.

October 17, 2024October 17, 2024

A Shared Humanity

Lifting the serving bowl and its beefy/spicy contents up for all to admire, the host rendered the verdict, “And, the winner IS. . .”

Through every season we were learning that each day can open a new place in our hearts, a place where we can welcome new friends and celebrate more fully our shared humanity*

Whether the Autumn Chili cookoff (like this one marked by bursts of – “Wow, who brought this ?!”) – or the Summer road trip to old town Har-ber Village at Grand Lake or the Hayride/ songfest/bonfire and s’mores treat at Sonrise Ranch outside Owasso, every outing seemed to pulse with adventure.

The student ministry subscribed to value-centered priorities. Like fostering friendships. Then, where possible, nurturing them.

Our volunteer teams hosted students from far-away lands whose domestic mealtime had never ever featured chili; young adults whose tastebuds would never think of savoring an odd mini-sandwich stacked with marshmello, Hershey chocolate and graham cracker.

As for Har-ber Village, few Americans had themselves ever encountered – except through library books or a Google Search – the spellbinding world of a reconstructed 19^th century village.

Nor did road trips end with a screeching halt at the state line. Missouri, Texas, Arkansas – even Colorado and California – unveiled before us their varied treasures, from the quaint to the spectacular.

As for the chili cookoff that evening at Beau and Mary Ann’s home, our student guests were deputized taste-test-judges. The Blue Ribbon chili pick of the night fell to an iconic burger enterprise from around the corner, Wendy’s!

October 10, 2024October 9, 2024

Have A Chair

Smiling, the student welcomed me into his apartment. He had come a week or so earlier to start his first semester of studies in this new land.

“I am sorry”, he began – self-conscious and embarrassed – “I do not have a comfortable chair for you”.

Nodding my thanks as he gestured to the straight-backed chair, I took in the sparse surroundings. My goodness, I thought, even though this is a fine campus apartment, it’s virtually unfurnished. Only a couple sticks of furniture rested on the pristine carpeting spread throughout.

That surprise ‘aha moment’ was followed by more of the same as I made my rounds to welcome newly arrived students over the coming days. It left me both astonished and bewildered. What could be done to alter this scenario? The question persisted.

How does a newcomer on a tight budget – a young person virtually unknown by anyone inside the host country – tackle the task of furniture shopping in this place? The hurdles grew in number

No vehicle of their own (much less a driver’s license)
No friend with a pickup
Unaware of the uniquely American tradition called a ‘garage sale’
The list grows

There is a God in heaven. So goes the quote.

Drawing on what imagination capital we could muster, our ragtag team landed on a purely experimental game plan and pinned a name to it. From then til now ICO’s annual Furniture Fest has kept gathering wind in her sails.

What’s more (in the perky language of an ancient TV game show), The Price is Right.

October 3, 2024October 2, 2024

Outrageous

“In your religion, do you believe God could forgive him?”

The questioner’s face betrayed an intense curiosity. She wanted my answer. The surname of the person in question was bin Laden.

Shortly after the September 11 attack, American intelligence agencies identified lead players responsible for the terrorist carnage. The assault here on American soil – the most brazen and vicious since Pearl Harbor (1941) – guaranteed the enshrinement of another date to “live in infamy”. The principal schemer and mastermind was revealed to the public and in a matter of hours the name Osama Bin Laden became synonymous among many with unspeakable evil.

The young woman from the Far East, whose husband was pursuing an engineering degree at our campus, had directed the question my way amidst an informal visit on life and faith. Her knowledge of Biblical Christianity – its foremost tenet being sacrificial love – was foreign to her mind and she drove the question home.

Can God forgive the bin Ladens of the world?

I responded in a quiet tone. ‘Yes’. God’s mercy was somehow big enough to cover even an evil such as this. “If he were to confess and turn from his sin, yes he would find pardon”, I responded, hoping my voice carried a conviction I did not deeply feel.

The student spouse wouldn’t buy it, “No”, she replied, “such a wrong like this done by someone cannot be forgiven!” She was not to be persuaded otherwise. Not today, perhaps not at all.

For my own part, I frankly entertained a subtle wish in the moment that it might not be true, that even divine pardon had its limitations. As with the Prophet Jonah in the Old Testament with his condemning heart posture toward the barbaric city of Nineveh and its inhabitants, I could, at least momentarily, want God’s wrath directed toward particular elements of evildoers.

But then, where would that leave me and the rest of humanity. I knew, at least in my mind, the answer. Forgiveness, indeed full pardon, extends to any and all presenting themselves in contrite repentance. Some label such mercy as outrageous. And so it likely is.

“The wages of sin is death but the free gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. . . Christ suffered for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God.”*

September 26, 2024September 25, 2024

September Assault

Entering the quaint cottage off 15th and Memorial that Tuesday of early Fall, I assumed the small gathering would feature ‘the usual’. But calendars across the land had silently announced the dawn of another day. September 11, 2001, would never be remembered as an ordinary day.

Inside the cottage I was met with hurried motions of unusually somber hosts, urging me to join them before a television screen. Scenes of billowing smoke boiling from upper floors of one of New York’s twin towers left our small prayer group sitting bewildered. Our attention was held captive. We sat transfixed, silent.

Then, in disbelief, our modest gathering witnessed in real time an action so horrific that it could not in those fleeting seconds be adequately taken in.

While TV reporters – as confused as any of their viewers – fired off excited guesses, we beheld the unthinkable. The approach of airliner number two. Then a great burst of flame. More smoke. More pandemonium. America was under attack.

The cottage, cozy residence of senior-age friends Merland and Ann Severson, served for years as venue for Tuesday morning gatherings. The informal meeting featured friendly chitchat, followed by thanksgivings, updates and prayer for the international student ministry.

While we, in this abrupt moment carried scant details on the chaos unfolding in New York, our little band of believers carried a knowing conviction of something very concrete, at a deep, profound level. If there were ever a time for the Lord’s praying people to engage, the time is here.

September 19, 2024

Primed

Few accomplishments rival the relief of landing a job in one’s profession of choice soon after finishing years of intense work and study. While the news of gaining his first-ever gig – professorship in the energy industry – sparked real delight, our Southeast Asia friend Nguyen (now ‘Doctor Nguyen’) would soon meet with yet another thrill.

The past several years had, in hindsight, proved a watershed season for his young family. As newcomers to a strange, intriguing culture (America), the Nguyens had been befriended and afterward deeply comforted by a little band of Jesus-followers.

Along the way, they had permitted themselves to revisit and question some of their earlier assumptions about culture, faith – even foundational matters of life’s meaning.

In time they had yielded themselves to Christ, receiving him as Lord. They encountered his comforting presence, as well, during the grievous loss of their newborn. They utterly embraced Jesus as companioning master for all of life “here on out”. The twists and turns of those recent years – carrying forward in the real world in the company of faithful brothers and sisters – had, at the core, set the Nguyen household on a radical trajectory of purpose. With no desire to content themselves with a status-quo Christian faith, the couple brought a single-mindedness to walking closely with their Savior who had given – and continued giving – life to them. Whatever the future, the Nguyens were on mission to share the life with others.

As to that further thrill – the one beyond the teaching job.

The fresh position meant relocating from Tulsa to another city and state westward. After their move, Professor Nguyen and his wife had a surprise discovery. Their new place of residence was home to a large community (some ten thousand) of their own overseas countrymen. Of common culture and common language and common flavors suited to the Southeast Asian tastebud.

Ignatian Spirituality conveys a happy sentiment, “May the God of surprises delight you”.

A single small church existed to serve and reach out to this large ethnic population of the city.

It was to this environment the young professor was sensing a clear leading. Primed for worship and for witness, through community.

September 12, 2024September 11, 2024

Downstream Drama

The Board cast a unanimous vote. Sometimes such things happen.

The searing heat of Oklahoma’s mid-summer had eased and our annual volunteer-sponsored canoe float down the Illinois River was behind us. It had been a popular event (literally) navigated in the very heart of Cherokee country over past years. Our friend, Les, of Cornerstone Church had rounded up his latest band of water-lovers once again to help facilitate the day-long attraction. Water levels had risen higher than usual this season and fast-paced currents demanded extra vigilance. No one guessed what a close brush we would have with disaster.

A couple hours in, a chorus of sharp cries broke through the relative calm of easy laughter amidst frollicking splash wars of students and new friends The cries of alarm sounded from a place just downstream,

“Quick! Somebody, please hurry. It’s Sai and Rao”, a voice was shouting. “They are in trouble!”

The canoe transporting the pair of South Asia friends had instantly capsized within a narrowed passageway of especially rough waves. As it flipped, throwing the college students to the churning waters, the canoe spun sideways, now pinning the young men against a large downed tree trunk that had long obstructed a portion of the river’s pathway.

The force of the oncoming river pressed strong against the vessel which, in turn, pushed the flailing young men beneath the water again and again. Neither of the two, we later learned, were skilled swimmers. And, like bobbing floats yanked repeatedly downward by powerful arms, the canoers could barely steal a gulp of air in those rare and brief moments breaking through the surface.

Lunging headlong through the torrent, several swimmers reached them. Heaving the capsized vessel up and off the two in abrupt rhythms of Hurculean thrusts, the rescuers freed the men at last. Relief!

(Note: Counted among those volunteers showing up Summer after Summer were two young ladies yet in their teens – Tara and Elizabeth. Float ventures down the Illinois, along with other special outings, fueled their mission vision. Both these women, in time, would plunge into the rigorous work of literacy development, making their presence and skills known in areas of the world void of adequate service in this field. Elizabeth and Tara would each offer up years of service – right into the present – serving full time in linguistics vocations. Advancing literacy and Bible translation, stretching to remote regions of the earth.)

Meanwhile, following a certain drama-filled August Saturday, our ministry’s Board of Directors came easily to their unanimous and unchallenged consensus.

Canoe excursions suspended, till further notice.

September 5, 2024September 4, 2024

Barometric Pleasure

Retired television personality Don Woods stood there smiling, relaxed before the mic.

“Back in my earlier days as a TV weatherman”, he began, “our radar technology was nothing like we enjoy today.”

Among our Thursday luncheon guest speakers over the years, we managed to garner an occasional sampling of hometown celebrities. Don fit the bill.

For decades Don had garnered an impressive viewer following, largely due to the presence of his adorable stick cartoon character – Gusty. Every evening as the cameras rolled Don would offer up the coming days’ forecasts while simultaneously sketching an action scene featuring Gusty – wind, ice storm, lightning, sunshine. Gusty’s actions reflected the nature of whatever conditions might lie ahead. We hoped too, for the benefit of our students (nearly none of whom had heard of an Oklahoma twister), that Don’s talk could include a cautionary element, given our spot in the heart of Tornado Alley.

Picking up on his radar theme, Don Woods went on,

“One morning in the dead of winter I arrived at my office to be greeted by my boss, the KTUL station manager. “’Don’”, he said, ‘we just got a call from one of our viewers. Says he has a request,” ‘Would you please have your weatherman come out to my house and shovel the six inches of ‘partly cloudy’ off my driveway!’”

For our students coming from regions of the world where snow never fell, the account required a little explaining.

Along with being a popular meteorologist, Don was a follower of Jesus. He had brought to the luncheon a collection of small, illustrated gospel booklets of his own creation. Fittingly, the illustrations featured images of his little sidekick Gusty.