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February 27, 2025February 26, 2025

Common Stirrings

Once, in my early days of shadowing Jim Tracy on campus, he invited me to join him for a Sunday visit to a church on Sheridan Avenue.

Asbury Methodist’s annual event, designed to spotlight Missions awareness for the congregation should be in full swing. And the church’s outreach director, Mary Ann Smith, whom I had never met was (I would learn) more than up to the task.

Once the last ‘amen’ of worship service sounded and the twin exit doors opened wide, scores of the faithful – families, couples, singles – poured onto the repurposed parking lot.

Worshippers were soon strolling in and out of roomy little tents assembled for the occasion. They moved along, stopping now and then, taking in the several missionary displays set up and manned by a ministry rep or two. The booths featured intriguing photos and artifacts brought from other lands. Intriguing.

At Mary Ann and her team’s invitation, a collection of meal vendors had rolled in their food trucks and set up serving tables. The festive environment saw interested believers exploring “the world beyond” while munching fast food cuisine. The setting lent itself to easy exploration of global needs, extending opportunities for connecting in outreach.

Months passed and one day I sensed a nudge to reach out to Asbury Church. I hoped to see if this missions-minded community would take an interest in “the world at our doorstep”, i.e. international students of the University of Tulsa.

I met with Mary Ann Smith.

Mary Ann listened with interest as I shared our dream of better serving college students coming here to the U.S. heartland from across the world. She paused a moment before offering her thoughtful, poignant response.

“You know, Jerry, it’s interesting your wanting to visit with us about this just now.”

I was all ears.

“For the past little while I have been mulling the question, ‘What role could our church play if an opportunity opened for us to serve the students of T.U.?”

February 20, 2025

Alluring Lyrics

“So, Terry, I have a question.”

Giving his new student friend a short tour of the city, Terry had pulled into the parking lot of a place of worship. The sign out front read Believers Church.

“Sure, Ahmed, what’s your question”, Terry responded.

“Well, this is Believers Church”, Ahmed began. “So, is there also a ‘Non-believers’ church?”

Cross-cultural work often means coming upon unforeseen (and amusing at times) conversation starters. Smiling, Terry praised his friend’s deductive skills in Logic.

Once on a week-day, I invited a student who hailed from the Mediterranean region, to accompany me to a funeral service.

Muhammed and I had been meeting weekly for English conversation sessions. On this date the timing collided with my planned visit to the memorial service of a friend who had passed. Unacquainted with Christian funeral services Muhammed, readily accepted my invitation as a new cultural experience.

The service was simple yet moving with congregational singing included. The lyrics of one particular piece caught Muhammed’s attention.

Crossing the church parking lot afterwards, I asked his thoughts of the service. He replied in a sincere tone.

“I enjoyed it”, he said, adding, “I especially liked that one song.”

Noting the music piece, I told myself to get a digital copy off to him. He beat me to it!

Searching online, Muhammad was soon listening to renditions presented by a range of artists. Reflecting afresh on the themes highlighted in the song, I smiled a thank you to heaven. Through lines immersed in gentle rhythm, the gospel of Christ* was getting heralded.

“He came from heaven to earth to show the way; from the earth to the cross my debt to pay; from the cross to the grave; from the grave to the sky. Lord, I lift your name on high”.

February 13, 2025February 12, 2025

Making Melody

Music and rhythm find their way into the secret places of the soul.*

Strings ‘n Things – The name caught on from the start.

Laid back but purposeful, informal yet structured, Strings ‘n Things soon became a popular Saturday evening destination for a handful of future chemists and engineers. Here at week’s end, they could catch a two-hour reprieve from Keplinger Lab.

Having learned to play guitar on a used flat top my dad picked up for nine dollars back in the 50s, an idea had sprung to mind. What if an unobtrusive spot on campus were dedicated as a banjo, violin or guitar venue for the music-inclined international student open to a bit of hang time with a few American friends?

The curricula would be non-academic in nature. Just a simple, unhurried environment with a fiddler or ‘picker’ or two in a fun, intercultural setting. Friends Art and Leah Christie had begun serving in the area with YWAM (Youth With A Mission). Reaching out to Art, an accomplished guitarist, was an easy call to make. Enthused over the Strings ‘n Things concept Art made his way week after week to the Wesley building.

. His musical talent and gentle, relational disposition formed the perfect blend.

The Wesley clock struck Seven. Students descended the steps to the basement, arriving at random times, no one keeping track.

When, after a few minutes the soft buzz of introductions and chitchat trailed off, I gestured to some folding chairs and students settled in.

“Hey, we are glad you all could make it. Before we start talking instruments and so forth, can our friend Art and me take a minute to introduce you to a popular American folk song or two?” With this, out came our guitars.

As Saturday evenings came and went, our Strings ‘n Things music highlighted a blend of genres. Including biblically-sound yet catchy contemporary pieces. Students from a range of backgrounds, religious and otherwise, sat attentively as lyrics of a hymn were broken down, clarified. Then, drawing out the instruments a random voice called, “Let the lessons begin!”

February 6, 2025February 5, 2025

Going Mobile

Though not entangled in political mischief and court dramas, our trio of “John’s” might have in some ways been likened to the famed Three Musketeers.

Our auto-savvy-Johns (McCants..Wood..Yokum) along with veteran Insurance agent Eddie Huff heeded a call. Marshalling their combined talents in a great enterprise: ISM’s Car Care Clinic. Dan Sterling, our ‘rotating luncheon chef’, brought his great mechanical skills into the mix, too.

Ninety minutes after our students from abroad took their seats in the Clinic classroom, they stood gazing wide-eyed into a car’s open hood in a nearby parking lot. While they absorbed key tips on checking fluids, brake pads and the like they made the most of capturing fresh new lingo tied uniquely to the auto industry.

Priceless insights supplied by our friendly industry craftsmen were all made available without charge. The annual mini-course was first launched as a response to students making a heartfelt, straightforward appeal. Beginning with the phrase, “I need help”. Help on how to shop for a car, how to properly maintain the vehicle. Learning to drive the vehicle fell into the mix somewhere along the way!

The flagship organization that first alerted me to cross-cultural student ministry (International Students, Inc.) highlights a crucial focus. Discover a student’s most keenly ‘felt needs’. Strive however possible to address at least some of these needs.

Helping meet felt needs, I was coached, includes “offering an authentic sense of community, combating feelings of isolation and loneliness, helping newcomers navigate American culture. Offering support on practical, down-to-earth aspects of living in the US.”

By taking to heart that last bit (selflessly helping internationals with practical aspects of navigating life in the U.S.) our delightful Car Clinic guys met that challenge and then some! Year by year, empowering the latest arrivals to navigate by the most poignant of ways. . . on wheels.

January 30, 2025January 29, 2025

Give Me A Brake

“If everything seems under control, you’re just not going fast enough”. It seems fitting the father of the quote was racing legend Mario Andretti. Mario, whose stellar career spanned three decades, was no stranger to adrenaline spikes.

In those times when called on to don my imaginary Driver’s Ed cap, I empathized with Andretti, growing an intimate acquaintance with the adrenaline rush effect. More than once.

College campus parking lots – the larger-and-emptier the better – served best for early lessons.

When I was an adolescent farm boy venturing forth as a new-driver wannabe, all the vehicles of choice were of the manual transmission (stick shift) variety.

Pasturelands were spacious across Okmulgee County and our country dirt roads were seldom, if ever, crowded. The motor vehicles my brother and I cut our teeth on included a 1955 Studebaker pickup and a pair of aging tractors – Farmall and Allis Chalmer.

Here now in the heart of bustling mid-town Tulsa, we must make the most of reality. On one or two occasions at taking my driver’s ed spot in the passenger seat of a new student’s first car I realized with a pang of apprehension the vehicle was, in fact, a stick shift model. Such days became especially memorable!

Fortunately – thanks no doubt to a keenly-alert guardian angel on hand – I recall only a couple times when I was called upon to abruptly shout , “No, No, No. STOP now!” During other spine-tingling close calls I somehow drew upon some inner reserve of calm to, in the moment, reign in the scream reflex.

Reflecting now on the many miles covered in the adventurous world of driver training, I take almost reverential pride on the keenness of mind and the resilience of so many international students. Facing an array of challenges, proving themselves triumphant.

January 23, 2025January 22, 2025

Treasured Exchange

Catastrophic grief, as many will testify, can paralyze. A numbness washing through one’s mind and body like the slow rise of an ocean’s tide. This may actually serve as a merciful buffer, sparing the person (for a time at least) an utter crushing of the soul.

When trauma with its disorienting shock floods in some find afresh that nothing substitutes for the gentle, anchoring calm of a close friend nearby.

When Henry drew his last breath at the traffic intersection, his precious Joyce was thrust into an upside down world of loss. From a mercy that heaven alone might supply, Joyce’s sense of desolation in this foreign country began easing. Juni, her American friend and fellow student, came to her aid.

What followed across the coming months and even into years ahead may be characterized as miraculous.

To the obvious question clamoring for answers, “How can good of any kind emerge out of such an evil-conceived nightmare?”, an other-worldly response would gradually emerge.

For those not having savored the tangible lovingkindness of God – whose sacrificial offering invokes levels of empathy defying description – simple language falls short.

Through Juni’s frequent presence and unimposing availability (shored up by a cadre of interceding teammates) the Spirit of comfort gained access to a traumatized, grief-stricken soul.

The precious scholar’s journey forward was marked by modest advances over long periods of time. One big setback involved a major crash when the car in which she was riding was rear-ended by a speeding motorist. This resulted in an extended hospital stay. Juni and friends, once again at her side.

Joyce found herself drawing upon the invisible strengths supplied from above through her forever sisters. She welcomed Christ himself into her life and into her story. He in turn granted, as scripture pledges, a treasured exchange. Beauty for ashes. The oil of joy for mourning (and even), the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.*

Jesus – man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.*

January 16, 2025January 15, 2025

Elusive Dawning

When young high school graduates – North American or otherwise – set off to distant places for college life abroad, they are not always met with rosy experiences.

While many students mark their overseas academic ventures as satisfying and rewarding, a good number endure unexpected heartbreak. Some facing immense loss along the way.

A Southeast Asia couple loses their precious pre-born in the final month of a full-term pregnancy. Immeasurable sorrow.

A female student is harassed and threatened by a student of her own ethnicity. The threat is forestalled only by the intervention of a sympathetic campus minister and the academy’s threat of expulsion.

In February, 2024 eleven missionary students of diverse nationalities die when a truck with faulty brakes crashes into their vehicle at high speed. Such times call for something beyond human sympathy. In periods of darkness even Scripture can seem to ring hallow.

“And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.”*

Shortly after arriving as new students on one campus Joyce and Henry met each other. They were soon recognized as a romantic “item”. During their free times in the coming months the two seemed inseparable.

Horror struck during a criminal car-jacking attempt.

The assailant, in a rush to flee police officers pursuing him, accosted the students as they waited in their car at an intersection for a traffic light change. In the chaos that followed the armed man fired a shot, critically wounding young Henry, then ran from the scene. He himself did not survive an officer’s gunfire moments later.

In the aftermath of the terrible end to a couple’s intended happy outing, a bittersweet saga – long and arduous – began. Whatever possible ray of light may somehow lie ahead, offering any glimmer of hope, seemed elusive at best.

January 9, 2025January 8, 2025

Chef Mechanic

Counted among the grand range of specialized craftsmen who grace our world is a rare breed we might label the “Chef Mechanic”.

We know of chef. We know of mechanic. We hear at times of a ‘Chief mechanic’.

My good friend Dan Sterling – ‘Chef-Mechanic extraordinaire – entered heaven before sunrise of Tuesday this week. Spoiler alert. Our readers may detect a hint of déjà vu as, in gratitude and tender appreciation we repost portions from our ‘basement bistro’ article of some weeks back. Heaven just grew richer.

We had met Dan and Maggie at a mission event months before and soon discovered the retiree couple literally lived and breathed service. Taking early retirement from years as a diesel mechanic, Dan and his adventurous lady set about pursuing whatever fields of service they sensed the Lord opening before them. One such trail led them to a downstairs dining spot on the Tulsa University campus. Our ministry’s FIL (Free International Lunch).

Donning his kitchen apron he was set for whatever culinary tasks lay before him. Flashing his ear-to-ear smile, Dan’s call of, “OK, gang, shall we!” rallied his half dozen fellow volunteers to enthusiastic action.

Moments later the area buzzed with the clinking and clanging of pots and pans blended with a chorus of happy voices. ISM’s international luncheon prep team.

A predominant presence of talented ladies – fulltime homemakers and career women (all navigating busy schedules) – offered their collective skills preparing and serving meals for the scores of students filing along cafeteria-style serving line.

The Thursday morning atmosphere there in the basement-kitchen of the Wesley was often punctuated by a robust burst of laughter offered up through a cheery male voice. (Dan’s was a contagious laugh).

Our primary aim for the weekly lunch was to bring forward under God’s enabling a nourishing and tasty “filling” experience for each student passing along the serving table – our hospitality turf, our basement bistro. What joy witnessing the Sterling Team (Maggie and son Matthew often equally engaged) happily, generously doing their part. Rewarding grateful palates, enriching hungry souls.

January 2, 2025January 2, 2025

Out Of The Chute

Okmulgee’s Rodeo Grounds sat north of town and directly across the road from our modest acreage along Highway 75. Tuesday evenings in the weeks leading up to the annual rodeo found cowboys, their “spurs ‘ajingling”, mounting their steeds. It was calf-rope-practicing night and on occasion my brother and I ventured onto the grounds to take in the action.

At the nod of his head to the guy manning the livestock chute, the cowboy signaled his, “Let’s GO”. Our perked-up ears caught the sharp clang of a chute gate opening. Perched atop the corral fencing Tim and I watched, mesmerized as a terrified calf lunged forward into freedom, only to lose that freedom in mere seconds if the Oklahoma cowboy got lucky.

At the start of a year I see the livestock chute as an apt illustration.

Here I am among earth’s inhabitants numbering in the billions. The ball drops. Midnight strikes. A master of ceremonies shouts of an infant new year just born! High fives, kisses and hugs and ‘Yippees!’ follow.

The clanging of the chute flinging open. And each one of us gets propelled into . . . What? Routine pursuits, turns in the road, exploration of belief?

To the unsure, the seeker, the disillusioned regarding faith. Simply be assured the Lord Jesus is indescribably good and utterly worth exploring and even pursuing in the new year just dawned. Hearty prayers your way.

To the Christ-follower we may be drawn to emerge from the chute humbly offering up an old but timely ‘yielding prayer’. Like one practiced among our Wesleyan friends at the start of each year since 1755. Navigating its ‘old English’ language calls for rallying the imagination but is wonderfully doable.

I am no longer my own, but thine. Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt. Put me to doing, put me to suffering. Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee, exalted for thee or brought low for thee. Let me be full, let me be empty. Let me have all things, let me have nothing. I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal. And now, O glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, thou art mine, and I am thine. So be it. And the covenant which I have made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven. Amen.*

May your Twenty-Twenty-Five meet with good at every turn.

December 26, 2024December 25, 2024

Merry Memory

Savoring the yuletide season still, we thank a dear campus ministry friend for the following,

One day leading up to Christmas a few years ago my husband and I invited some internationals to help us decorate our Christmas tree. Included in the group was an older couple – visiting scholars at a nearby university.

While the two men busied themselves stringing lights on the tree and about our door and windows, I welcomed the wife to help me set up our nativity scene.

“What is a nativity?”, Molly asked.

“It’s a scene made up of carved figures, symbolic of Jesus’ birth.”

My new friend followed with another question, her expression communicating sincere curiosity, “Who is Jesus and why is this so important?”

While Molly’s question gave me momentary pause, I immediately sensed the wonderful gift God was offering me in this moment. That I might share something of the greatest story ever. How exciting! What followed was remarkable.

Into those coming minutes, I felt my whole being somehow charged with supernatural energy. The near-tangible presence of Christ continuing strong. And, with the placing of each nativity piece – Mary, Infant Jesus, Joseph, the domestic animals of the stall and the rest – this supernatural “energy” did not diminish.

What inexpressible joy, sharing with this dear lady from a far away land the reason we celebrate Christmas. Why we believe Jesus is who he says he is, why he came to earth. And that Jesus not only gives us Christmas but gifts to us an everlasting, personal & intimate relationship with God. Fulll of joy, peace and love.

My friend Molly was so enthralled, listening intently, asking questions to make sure she was understanding.

As we finished the decorating she said, “I want to know more about this Jesus.”

My husband and I made sure she had a Bible and from that day forward she has been reading the Bible and has, for some time now, been participating in a Bible study with someone who speaks her own language.

Although my friend has not yet confessed faith in Christ, her heart is so soft and her questions give evidence that the Holy Spirit is still working to draw her further and further into his wonderful Light. And, even though this couple has returned to their own “restricted-access” country, we still communicate. Continuing to see God working!

A true Christmas miracle!

While our yearly calendars mark the arrival and the passing of Christmas Day, the present reality of “God with us” continues on and on and on. Until the long awaited day of the final Maranatha. . . “Come, Lord Jesus!”