A Week on the Plains and Plain Truth about Reservations

Last week, fourteen high school students loaded up a van and drove across Montana with three leaders – including myself  –  for a week putting on VBS’s on a distant Native American reservation. It was our second annual mission to this site. We went with God preparing the way ahead, his glory as our rear guard, and the fervent prayer and support of our congregation going up to him.

I did miss the opportunity to spend the week blasting Audio Adrenaline’s “Blitz” with its refrain “Fourteen kids in an old church van”, but que sera sera.

(For those who don’t know our church, we’ve long run a tiered youth mission program intended to get students out of their middle-class comfort zone and set before them the struggles of impoverished and unchurched corners of our world. Tier 1 trips are our shortest, most in-culture and structured. This was a Tier 2, remaining on continent but removing students further from cultural norms and controlled conditions, demanding more work and initiative. Tier 3 is off-continent; Tier 4 is long-term.

The program has availed much. So many testimonies of youth setting hammer to nail, shovel to dirt, or Windex to window in a darkened battleground somewhere, returning home with their worldview flipped on its head, and finishing growing up that way. It spurs gospel and generosity, loosens their love of their material bubble. It’s one of my favorite features about my church.)

TLDR for those wondering how their prayer and money was used: the trip was terrific. Fruitful, providential, and foundational for the future.

peckGod had clearly positioned us for this mission. Just weeks prior, huge, potentially deal-breaking questions had loomed about manning and housing. They were all solved, albeit in that on-the-run fashion that God so often favors. In fact, some of God’s answers turned out to be improvements on last year’s situations.

The students did top-notch work planning and executing their VBS curriculum and activities. Several were visibly stretched, and welcomed it. Our team was solid and fairly inclusive; no real problems regarding unity.

The unpredictability so inherent to this kind of mission trip showed up for sure, given the tendency of reservation life to start at noon and the fact that we were running separate VBS’s in towns 45 miles apart. Schedules and key information were blurred and juggled. The students met it all with a deft willingness to pivot and adapt, to jump to unexpected tasks and fill in shifting vacancies. Few complaints. It was eye-opening to watch them embrace the whirlwind as a cost of doing business.

I heard some students, veterans of last year’s trip, remarking to their parents about how God was maturing and deepening their understanding of reservation life – the challenges of poverty, the darkness of abuse and addiction, the complex way in which social ills beget other social ills, the lack of easy solutions. There were moments that silenced them. Prayers were not skimped upon. You could see their resolve growing.

The team’s adult leaders got a chance to dream and pitch ideas with the local pastors. That was exciting. There are actionable possibilities to return and grow our partnership.

The work will not be easy. Satan holds these grounds and the barriers are considerable.

But there is progress. The local churches have secured small teams of workers, prayer warriors with rough stories of their own, who are building inroads in these communities. Thanks to the tougher moments, we have clear strategies in our pocket. Most of all, we know that God’s Word does not kneel or fade but accomplishes what he intends for it – and that he intends much.

For those who prayed and supported us, God used it. Thank you so much.

The One Cure for Your Great Commission Hesitation

planeWhen I was called to teach on a remote Indian reservation, I didn’t think too hard about it.

The sign appeared, a couple priceless prophetic words came through friends to confirm, and that was that. God was wise enough to tell me NOT to think too much before I stepped out. Otherwise, I would have  talked myself out of it.

That’s how it might need to be for you.

There’s one cure for Great Commission hesitation: go. That’s it. That’s the prescription, the regimen, the chemotherapy. Prayer is essential and cannot be recommended enough, but it doesn’t move your legs. At some point, once the details are clear, we must go.

It’s not a question of whether you’re called; the calling is right there in Matthew 28:20. “Go and make disciples of all nations.” The only question is where and when. It doesn’t need to be permanent; in fact, some missions work better without foreigners’ constant presence. Maybe it’s only a couple weeks.

But it needs to be us. Instead of searching for reasons we can’t go, we should be asking how soon we can board the plane.

Worried that “God can’t use you”? The problem with that quote is the first two words. Trust me, if God can wield a moron like myself, he can use you.

You say America is a mission field now and the Great Commission can be performed right here. You’re not wrong. But is it said as an excuse to avoid stepping on the tarmac?

You say you lack time or money. Your checkbook and calendar are not your savior. God alone decides your availability. And you will be blown away at how he can provide. (I can attest that he loves to flaunt his resources in these matters.)

Maybe you’re in a truly rough season (I’ll pray for relief!) and just don’t see a way. It’s definitely between you and God. Maybe now’s not the time. But – if you will suffer me to impose just a little – at least decide that from a position of surrender. Others around the world are suffering in far greater darkness than you and I – the darkness of no God.

No matter who you are, what church you’re currently in, or what season currently defines your life, you’re eligible. Every obstacle is surmountable for the one who believes. Allow no excuse to stop you.

Thousands plunge into hell every day.

And God can show you amazing things, if only you will go.

Life at High Spiritual Altitudes

high(Forgive me if this sounds like Amateur Hour Confessions – that’s pretty much exactly what we are.)

My friend and I completed a 35-mile backpacking trip near our home a couple weeks ago, and the one thing I couldn’t get out of my head was how present God was during the whole thing.

It’s not just about seeing his majesty in creation, either (though there was oodles of that – and no, we didn’t get any pictures, evil teases that we are).

When we’re down in the valley, life is a blur. The cushion of first-world existence surrounds us. Our social structures and bank accounts shield us from pain. Though we acknowledge these as gifts from God, his fortuitous presence in these blessings doesn’t exactly jump out at us. It’s harder to see the flashing neon “I DID THIS! – God” sign on those things. Crediting him must be done more intentionally, out of a knowledge of Scripture (James 1:17). Although, to be sure, James seems to think it a sin if we don’t.

But when you’re on the trail, you live hour by hour. And his hand is much more obvious.

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