international – Jerry Lout ⚬ Writer ⚬ Speaker ⚬ Mobilizer

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 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 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.

November 21, 2024

Watershed Moments

As with many spouses of T.U. scholars, she had adopted a Western nickname (perhaps less daunting to the American tongue). Gayle and her graduate-student husband, ‘Dean’, had been in Tulsa nearly two years. The story of their faith journey corresponded with a marginal difference to that of another married couple, the Zhirs*. The Zhirs happened to both share a common first name. My wife, a twinkle in her eye, nicknamed them ‘Zhirs Squared’.

ISM enjoyed serving alongside host families – Christ-followers endeavoring to mirror the faith. Such households, with their knack of welcoming strangers in their midst, lived and breathed hospitality.

Dean and Gayle were an engaging couple eager to sharpen their “second language” skills. They instantly warmed to the ‘English Corner’ community.

Along the way Dean was notified that a significant academic opportunity in a distant location had been offered him. The couple’s departure from Tulsa was imminent. They would move in a matter of days.

Wednesday evening’s English Corner rolled around and the usual stream of internationals and American host friends arrived at our common meeting area, the campus dining hall. Alerted to Gayle and her husband’s news of soon moving away, one volunteer exclaimed, “Oh, Gayle, we are going to miss you so much!” At this, the young lady – overcome by the sincere gesture – excused herself and moved to a quiet area to gather her emotions. Tears flowed.

Some moments later she was joined by her host friend who had followed her from a respectable distance. In the moments that followed, Gayle, sensing a consoling presence which she discerned to be the love of God, expressed her desire to embrace the faith that so marked her friend’s lives. Shortly afterward her husband Dean followed suit. Christ proved himself true through their years following. Savior, companion and Lord.

Among the beautiful features of nearing, then crossing salvation’s threshold to God’s kingdom is the uniqueness of each person in their own pilgrimage. The circuitous route of the Zhirs (befriended by a different volunteer family altogether) would unfold across its own distinctive set of landscapes.

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*.

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.

August 15, 2024August 14, 2024

Aha Moment

“When we laugh, our brains release feel-good chemicals that enhance attention, memory, and creativity*”

International students coming in from across the globe, many of them sporting proper names that are both tongue-twisting and truly foreign to the Western ear, elect to adopt names common to North America. From early on Xianghui, aka ‘Paul’, together with his wife and two young sons, endeared themselves to the community. One memorable scene in the life of this electrical engineering student featured a common garden vegetable. It happened on a Thursday at mid-day.

For the weekly FIL (Free International Lunch) for which my wife had pulled together a cadre of Rock Star kitchen volunteers, we rolled out a special feature. Christening it the “English Slang Expression of the Week”, the skit-based treat soon captured the attention of student diners frequenting the downstairs buffet every seventh day.

This Thursday I conscripted our friend Paul to lend his talents in unveiling the day’s idiomatic treasure. Tossing him an unpeeled potato, I signaled to the long sofa with its vinyl black cover resting just inside the room’s entrance.

“Once the students are settled in with their plates of food, just stretch out over there,” I coached Paul who happily complied.

At the key moment, taking up a mic, I directed a sharp glance to Paul who lay there stretched out facing the ceiling – repeatedly tossing the veggie upwards and catching it. “Hey, there, Paul!”

The students all turned his way.

“What is it you are doing over there?!”, I asked in mock surprise.

Paul’s response was perfect, “Oh. . . not much of anything, Jerry. . . just being a Couch Potato!”

It was in such moments that a line from the ministry’s official Mission Statement easily sprang to mind.

(We exist) “to meet practical needs of international students”

The linguistic “pinch of humor” supplied just the right luncheon seasoning.

April 11, 2024April 10, 2024

Stated Intent

A brilliant and beloved Southern California professor was fond of urging his fellow believers to live life on purpose, employing principles which he dubbed VIM.

Those lives that bear the marks of wholeness and flourishing for the good, Dallas Willard contended, tend to stem from persons who have firmly embraced Vision (the first letter of the acronym).

Alongside Vision come Intention and Means. Our infant ministry on the Tulsa campus – testing its wobbly legs with gangly stops and starts that are common to the very young – had started hammering out our Intention piece.

Just what were we sensing that God actually wanted? What would bring a ready smile to his magnificent countenance?

Jim Garton and I set out to give it our best in crafting a mission statement. It was clear that International Student Ministries needed one.

What shall we count as ISM’s Intention (the aim or aims that could be counted on to mark us and keep us grounded and focused through coming years). While we understood that a mission purpose can be tweaked and that often the best of aims can meet with course corrections, we felt daily the gravity of this assignment. It weighed on us.

At long last, with a lot of needed grace from above, we landed the plane.

The stated purpose carried two crucial features, neither of which could be realized apart from the other. Students needed to be able to enjoy the assurance that they are genuinely welcomed and cared about. Relationship must be key, with Christ’s tangible love and presence the heartbeat of it all.

The team’s next newsletter to be rolled out would herald our reason for being. Our Intention:

International Community Outreach exists to glorify God by meeting practical and spiritual needs of international students, through acts of service and through the proclamation of the gospel of Christ.

With our stated mission now in place, all that remained was to live it out!

This was to take some doing.

February 1, 2024January 31, 2024

Constant Gains

We know of people who opt to change their proper name. Visiting the United Kingdom, I am sometimes tempted to tweak my surname. Hardly any of our British friends would think it a compliment being called a lout.

A few days after tackling my new duties on campus, I met a delightful student from East Asia.

“Hi, my name is ‘Constant’”, he smiled.

“Happy to meet you, Constant. I’m Jerry”. The introduction marked the start of a rich friendship. A couple days passed. My phone rang.

“Hi Jerry, it’s Constant. Do you have a minute?”

In time I learned the rationale behind my new acquaintance’s name change. Realizing his given name might prove tough for some Oklahomans to pronounce and wishing to take on a name reflecting his ambitions as a student, he simply landed on Constant. Staying focused and constant – not getting distracted or sidelined from studies. Things he knew were called for in his engineering pursuits. Makes sense! I thought.

“Sure”, I responded to his request over the phone, “what’s up, Constant?”

After a short visit, which included suggesting a few tips to ease his concerns over navigating English with a certain professor, I offered that Constant and I begin weekly meetups for conversational practice. He liked the idea.

I suggested two o’clock the following day.

“Yes, that time is great. At my apartment!”

Carrying forward with the Tuesday sessions over the next three years, our friendship grew. It was gratifying, making my way week-by-week to Constant’s apartment, seeing his second-language skills excel month after month. The English reading exercises we tackled featured an uncommon (for him) curriculum resource. Opening the New Testament week by week, we took in a narrative, then another – Tuesday after Tuesday – from the life of Jesus.