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Inside Israel

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Once again, it’s time to hear from our sister in Jerusalem about what she is witnessing there as a believer in Yeshua.  Put your prayer shawls on and pray for Israel and Sister J. Now here she is …

Summer activity seems to overtake many of us suddenly and I know that some of you will not find time to read this.  There is some personal news at the end of the letter though, particularly for those of you who know us.  I am so glad that The Lord is the same, yesterday, today and forever and that HE isn’t suddenly ‘caught up’ in summer activity…OR in problems or illness for that matter.  That’s so comforting!

As I went from the shuk to prayer meeting yesterday morning before going to work, my eyes suddenly ‘flashed back’ to earlier ‘first impressions’ and I was able to observe with ‘new eyes’ again some of the wonders of life here that I saw at the beginning of this part of my path.  Perhaps it is because we are about to celebrate our 19th year since making aliyah (immigrating).

We became Israeli citizens on the 18th of July, but we left Alaska on 4th of July (the tickets were cheaper then as people tend not to fly on that day) which was sort of symbolic I guess.  We were totally clueless as to the new life that lay ahead.  I had never been here before, and my husband had come once on a short ‘tourist trip’. We didn’t know aleph from bet, (the Hebrew alpha bet) had no idea where we would live or what we would do.  The map that I had looked at was the map in the back of my Bible (yes…before computers!) We literally sold and gave away everything that we owned, burned all of our bridges, and at the not-so-young age of 48+ left all that we knew for what we didn’t know because we believed (correctly thank God!) that it was HIM Who was telling us to do this.  We were slightly acquainted with ONE person here and she found us temporary board in a room of someone’s apartment.  That is how our walk here began.  Shell shock! So, 19 years later, my routines have become somewhat set, and it was a blessing to suddenly see again as if it were my first time.

Friday morning, it is my ‘habit’ to go to Intercessors for Israel 6:30am prayer meetings for a half hour before going on to work. This week, memories flooded me. I remembered my ‘wonder’ at the buses, where the radio blared and the people talked and sang and ate. Since I take the 6am bus on Fridays I had been deeply moved by the fact that the state run radio stations began  (they go off at midnight and on at 6am) with the words of ‘the smah’…the prayer most important in Judaism…the words from Deut 6:4-9

“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.”

These words are to Judaism what The Lord’s Prayer or sometimes the 23rd Psalm are to Christianity, so it would be as if your radio stations would begin each day with those Words in the morning reminding the country Who we look to first above all.  It blessed me to listen and to pray as the sunrise was casting its first rays above the mountains round about Jerusalem.  Sadly, about the time that the train started service, the broadcasting system put an end to this practice that had been in place since we first got radio here.

None the less, the assortment on the 6am bus is almost always the same, so we greet one another as one reads the newspaper and another the book of Psalms and a third eats perhaps a yogurt or cucumber, tomato and pita…typical Israeli breakfasts on the run.  On Friday I get off at the shuk to buy a challa (shabat bread) and some fruit and vegetables as everything in the city will close before sundown until after the shabat following sundown on Saturday.  At 6am, very few stands are open, but there are enough for me to get what I need and then run down Jaffa Road to prayer meeting.

As I leave the shuk I watch the Friday morning ritual of the street sweepers. Do all cities still have street sweepers?  Ours take their job very seriously and really do it well.  I am always impressed by them as it is not what you would call the most desirable job and yet I never sense these people feeling sorry for themselves or angry or see them slacking at work.  I pass the area from which they are ‘sent out’ with broom and equipment and enjoy listening to the ‘pep talk’ that they receive from their ‘commander’ who reminds them that they are cleaning the streets of Jerusalem and that they should do it proudly.  They run off slapping each other on the back and ready to begin. Why does this catch my eye?

As one who is ‘always cleaning house again and again and again’…I sometimes lose both my joy and energy in the midst of the task.  My task is so small compared with what faces these sweepers who work in the shuk. It is non stop mess and garbage and they keep at it with an energy, encouraging one another, that really speaks to me.  If they can do this monotonous job day after day, it challenges me to do mine for Yeshua with joy and for His glory. It is their level of obvious contentment that teaches me in this day ahead of me…it challenges me to plumb the depths of the command that The Lord gives me to ‘be content in ALL things’ as I read in so many verses (here are two but then there is Heb 13:5,  and so very many others.  You know them I’m sure:

11 Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: 12 I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. (Phil 4:11)
Now godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into this world, and it iscertain we can carry nothing out. And having food and clothing, with these we shall be content. 1 Tim 6:6)

So…as I walk past the ‘challenge of the street sweepers’ I come again to the ifi morning prayer meeting as I have since this particular Fri. morning group began so many years back, to pray in small groups for particular situations in our country and surrounding ones.  All too soon it was off to work for me, but my ‘fresh look’ at the street sweepers kept my eyes awake.

I remembered my amusement at the lack of Western ‘political correctness’ and how everyone talks to strangers all of the time.  That brought to my memory the reminder of the becoming aware that in this land of the Book and the Law…the laws are NOT ‘rigid’ as they are in the West…they are not black and white…they…hum…’float’ (for want of a better word.  It took me awhile to understand this.  Here is an example:  In America if I took a letter to the post office, they would weigh it and tell me EXACTLY how much postage it needed. If they were wrong, I would get the letter back marked ‘insufficient postage’.

Here, oh yes, there are charts, charges and regulations…but I might well walk up to the post office lady and she might say ‘9 shekels’ and I might say ‘Oh no!  I only have 7.5’ and…depending upon who she is, she might say ‘zeh lo mishonay!’ (It doesn’t matter) and either put 7.5 postage on it or take the shekel and a half our of her change purse.  We don’t HAVE ‘insufficient postage’ stamps here.  Period.

Then there is ‘making a scene’.  Again, a man approaches a window at the post office (we do LOTS of transactions at our post offices: they are banks, we pay bills there, we submit forms there and various other tasks) and the teller says ‘You are missing a signature’.  You can expect excitement!  ‘WHAT?!? They TOLD me that THIS is what I need!!  I CAN’T POSSIBLY come back!  My kid needs this for school TODAY!’  Sometimes fights ensue…but SOMETIMES we hear things like ‘You can’t?  He really needs it today?  Ok.’ Stamp stamp stamp – and the customer walks away smiling.  You can REASON with the clerks.  You can also cry.  I found that out the hard way.

As a new immigrant I cried A LOT! Suddenly I became ‘they made somebody’s mother cry!’ and others in line would rush up with water or a chair – it must have been quite humorous to watch from afar (although it never felt funny at the time).  So what is this: manipulation?  Mercy? Sloppiness? Protexia?  Probably a combination of all three to a different degree, but it was culturally different to me.  It was no longer black and white, but there were many ‘grey’ areas and this was helpful to learn as I realize that I will never fully understand the ‘ways of the system’. (although I have been told that NO ONE really understands it)

It is fun to remember some of these early impressions and lessons, particularly as planes fly over.  You all know that the situation here increases in intensity daily.  The sudden eruption of Egypt again – our neighbor to the south- has led to great instability in the vast Sinai region and once again de-stabilized our border.  To the North of us the Syrians continue to kill one another and our hospitals receive wounded for their border area nearly daily as word of mouth travels and families in the south bring their loved ones to the border asking for mercy.  Again our ‘peace’ process is gaining momentum so there are (again) bomb scares daily as that seems to be the ‘natural fruit’ of the ‘peace process’ (and the foreign governments do not seem to see the irony of this).  In other words, life continues as usual.

PERSONAL NEWS:

I was deeply blessed by a dear sister last weekend.  She works for a volunteer organization and they are blessed with an apartment right on the beach in Netanya that they allow their workers to use periodically for a time of retreat and refreshing.  She had reserved it for last weekend and INVITED ME AND ANOTHER SISTER TO JOIN HER!  Oh what joy to have a change of scenery and intensity and to share the sweetest of fellowship in Him!  I have rarely received such a cup of cold water and I am happy to report that I have been so graciously refreshed and doused in Love!  I had to come home early as I have had an infection and am allergic to just about all antibiotics, so needed to receive 5 days of slowly administered antibiotic by infusion, spending 2 hours daily in a nurses station after work.  I was well prepared with His GRACE to go through this, for which I am so thankful.

Some have been asking how things are going with our Granddaughter.  She is scheduled to arrive on 29th July and we are SOOOO excited!  She is a tender 6 years old and has had her suitcase packed for 6 weeks already!  I guess she takes after her ‘Savtalai’ (Grandmother) as I have been getting stuff for her ‘room’ for at least that long! Thank you so much for your prayers!

But for those of you who know us…our situation…have followed our family, some of you for more then 35 years(!) we do have news. Our youngest daughter, who was married just a year ago, is expecting their first child!  She was told (as I was) that she could never have children and they are THRILLED! Of course, she has had MANY physical and emotional problems and they are still NOT (yet) walking with The Lord… they are poorer then church mice BUT happier then larks…and, yes, I ask for prayer for them!  They live in Minnesota USA and the Baby is due in early Jan.  No…they have no car…no insurance…she is high risk pregnancy and is NOT feeling well…BUT…She IS a child of promise and HE IS ON THE THRONE! So I will BLESS them and pray and I wanted to share our joy with you!

MAY GOD BLESS YOU AND KEEP YOU AND MAKE HIS FACE TO SHINE UPON YOU FOR HIS GLORY!  May we be discerning and sensitive to His direction for this most narrow of seasons in which we life.

Lovingly,
your sis J

 

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A Mother Shares Why She Sponsors Children

 

In the above video of 2 minutes and 49 seconds, a mother explains why she sponsors children in Gospel For Asia’s Bridge of Hope ministry.

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Prayer: So Easy To Talk About, Yet so Tough To Do (Part 5)

 

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Successful prayer depends on our relationship with the Father and little else. The following story, as related by Rev. Kenneth Hagin on one of his radio programs, demonstrates well this principle:

In the 1850’s, a slave woman watched in agony as her husband was led to the auction block. She knew her husband would be sold to another plantation and they would never see each other again. Life without him would be horrible, she thought.

As she stood there, in her hopelessness, wondering what she could do, she looked up toward heaven. “Lord, if I could help You right now as easily as You can help me, I would,” she prayed in a soft whisper.

As the slave husband slowly trudged up to the auctioneer, a young boy in the audience turned to his father. “Dad, could I have ten dollars to buy a slave?” he asked.

“Sure, son,” said his father,  knowing that each slave would sell for hundreds of dollars. He handed his son the money.

“Let’s begin the bidding on this young, strong slave,” said the auctioneer. “Who’ll start it off?”

The young boy raised his hand. “I’ll bid ten dollars,” he said in a loud voice.

The crowd turned to look at the young boy and laughed in unison at the ridiculousness of the boy’s bid. Each shook his head, and yet, there were no other bids. The boy purchased the slave husband for ten dollars

Afterward, the young boy walked to the cashier, paid his money, signed the papers, and took possession of his slave.

Then, he took the slave husband over to the wife. “Here, you can have him. He’s yours,” he said to her.

…For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you. (Matthew 17:20)

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Pictures Tell Stories Better Than Any Writer Could Ever Do

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(Click on the photo)

By clicking on the above photo, a window will open, revealing a monthly archive of photos. Choose any month. The pictures reveal life in India for millions of people, most of whom have no hope in life unless they meet Jesus. And how will they meet Jesus?  Someone will have to go and preach to them. And how will someone be able to go and preach? Someone, like you and me, will have to help missionaries with our prayers and financial offerings.

If you are interested in helping, check out Gospel For Asia.

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Prayer: So Easy To Talk About, Yet So Tough To Do (Part 3)

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We arrived at her apartment by night in order to escape detection. We were in Russia (in the region of Lithuania, on the Baltic Sea). Ellen and I had climbed the steep stairs, coming through a small back door into the one-room apartment. It was jammed with furniture, evidence that the old couple had once lived in a much larger and much finer house.

The old woman was lying on a small sofa, propped up by pillows. Her body was bent and twisted almost beyond recognition by the dread disease of multiple sclerosis. Her aged husband spent all his time caring for her since she was unable to move off the sofa.

I walked across the room and kissed her wrinkled cheek. She tried to look up but the muscles in her neck were atrophied so she could only roll her eyes upward and smile. She raised her right hand, slowly, in jerks. It was the only part of her body she could control and with her gnarled and deformed knuckles she caressed my face. I reached over and kissed the index finger of that hand, for it was with this one finger that she had so long glorified God.

Beside her couch was a vintage typewriter. Each morning her faithful husband would rise, praising the Lord. After caring for his wife’s needs and feeding her a simple breakfast, he would prop her into a sitting position on the couch, placing pillows all around her so she wouldn’t topple over. Then he would move that ancient black typewriter in front of her on a small table. From an old cupboard he would remove a stack of cheap yellow paper. Then, with that blessed one finger, she would begin to type.

All day and far into the night she would type. She translated Christian books into Russian, Latvian, and the language of her people. Always using just that one finger—peck… peck… peck—she typed out the pages. Portions of the Bible, the books of Billy Graham, Watchman Nee, and Corrie ten Boom—all came from her typewriter. That was why I was there—to thank her.

“Not only does she translate their books,” her husband said as he hovered close by during our conversation, “but she prays for these men every day while she types. Sometimes it takes a long time for her finger to hit the key, or for her to get the paper in the machine, but all the time she is praying for those whose books she is working on.”

I looked at her wasted form on the sofa, her head pulled down and her feet curled back under her body. “Oh, Lord, why don’t You heal her?” I cried inwardly.

Her husband, sensing my anguish of soul, gave the answer. “God has a purpose in her sickness. Every other Christian in the city is watched by the secret police. But because she has been sick so long, no one ever looks in on her. They leave us alone and she is the only person in all the city who can type quietly, undetected by the police.”

I looked around at the tiny room, so jammed full of furniture from better days. In one corner was the kitchen. Beside the cupboard was her husband’s “office,” a battered desk where he sorted the pages that came from her typewriter to pass them on to the Christians. I thought of Jesus sitting over against the treasury, and my heart leaped for joy as I heard Jesus bless this sick old woman who, like the widow, had given all she had.  (Tramp for the Lord by Corrie ten boom, ©1975, 2008, Christian Literature Crusade, excerpt from Chapter 31, “One Finger for His Glory.”)

Corrie ten boom did not mention the name of this sick old woman who prayed all day long as she pecked away on a typewriter. So, we don’t know her name, but I guarantee you this: all of heaven knows her name.

(Continued in Part 4)

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Inside Israel

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Due to a glitch in my memory bank, I forgot to post Inside Israel yesterday. This is the newsletter where we will hear from our sister in Jerusalem about what she is witnessing there as a believer in Yeshua.  So, put on your prayer shawls and pray for Israel and Sister J. Now here she is …

Greetings in The Name of Yeshua, Jesus, Lord of lords, King of kings, THE only true Messiah,

May He be blessed and glorified, and may you be blessed and edified.  And may we ALL grow in grace and in the knowledge of Him (not through my letter, but just through His working in us and His Word and prayer! – This has been my constant prayer for myself lately.)

When people come to visit this land for the first time, I try to prepare them for one major cultural ‘difference’ that they never seem prepared for: the subject of ‘manners’…or rather the lack of them.  ‘RUDE!’ is generally a word that I hear a great deal when describing Israelis once off the tour bus… and I can understand the misinterpretation of the actions.  I say ‘misinterpretation’ because I believe that ‘rudeness’ should not necessarily be judged by ‘action’ but by ‘intent’.

I had been prepared for the situation before we made aliyah, by my brother in law, who is Israeli but sadly does not live here.  This is how he described it: ‘Israel is a third world country dressed in first world clothing; sort of like a gorilla in a tuxedo’.  He continued: ‘An Israeli will push you over and break your leg trying to get on the bus before you, but then will pick you up, carry you on his back all the way (running no less) to the hospital…pace up and down in front of the operating room while they piece your leg back together, visit you every day with flowers, chocolate and home cooked meals (if not sleep on the floor beside you) AND… you will be at his shabat table and every family occasion for the rest of your life once you recover!’

I found that pretty accurate!  There is simply NO malicious intent in Israeli ‘rudeness’!

When we first came (actually the first week and my very first time on the bus alone) I was downtown and went to get on the bus.  There were lots of ‘old ladies’ (like me now) trying to push on to the bus before me, so, ‘naturally’ I stepped aside to let them on.  Just as I prepared to get on the bus, he closed the doors in my face and took off!  I burst out crying. (Very mature response, but I was still pretty much in shock by all of the changes that immigration was bringing) 

Several women approached me to comfort me and to see if they could help and maybe pour some water down my throat (perhaps I was thirsty?).  ‘What is the matter?’ the one who could speak a bit of English asked.  ‘He closed the door in my face as I was about to get on!’ I blubbered.  They looked puzzled, ‘but you kept stepping aside!’ they reminded me.  ‘Of course…all of those old ladies wanted to get on…’  Now they REALLY looked puzzled.  ‘But why didn’t YOU get on?’  You get the picture?  I soon learned how to push my way on to the bus and not get left behind.

There actually IS a sort of ‘method’ to it all…and it is NOT considered rude.  The truth is…life here is not quite ‘easy’, always pressured…and everyone is trying their best to get something ‘accomplished’ …there is just no time for the ‘niceties’ of ‘space’ between people.

Uh oh!  This became a real testing ground for me…a grinding stone for The Lord to work on areas of my life that I did not want exposed.  (does that sound like your Lord too?)  There are definite reasons that I was born in NYC and had DETERMINED (by the age of two I think!) that I was ‘out of there!’ and going to live in the most far away from people and quiet place I could find.  Thus I lived in the remote Alaska bush for 15 years and never had any intent to leave.  I was a hermit by nature.  Proverbs 18:1 tells me what The Lord thinks about my love of being a hermit:

“A man who isolates himself seeks his own desire; He rages against all wise judgment.”

The King James Version translates it this way:

“Through desire a man, having separated himself, seeketh [and] intermeddleth with all wisdom.”

The King James version sounds quite different, which I had interpreted to be a ‘good thing’ for many years.  When I read the New KJ translation it sent me to the Hebrew… which I couldn’t understand…so I went to parallel versions.  I have come to see that the NewKJ is far closer to the meaning…and I have had to ask The Lord deal with this area of my flesh that loves its s-p-a-c-e and privacy and quiet etc.  It has not been an easy lesson and I am still learning it, but sharing His love for this nation and its people (in general…He is oh so dealing with my heart to love people INDIVIDUALLY) drives me to want them to be understood correctly.

Now…what was the point of all of this?

A humorous thing has occurred!  I have shared much with you about our ‘new lite rail system’ that is NOT appropriate for Jerusalem!  Its fine in Europe, or Seattle, or probably most places in the world…but in Jerusalem?  It is a disaster, at least for those (like me) who have to ride it daily!  Occasional riders and tourists seem to love it, but it is a nightmare for the commuters and this is not just my opinion. I would say it is nearly 100% across the board express this opinion… vocally …daily, and there have been many demonstrations and ongoing letters to the editor…all a waste of breath. 

Now…let’s see if I can describe (just) one of the problems:  the doors.  There has been a serious problem at each stop as perhaps 20 people push to get off while, simultaneously, approximately 20 people push to get on.  There is a ‘stance’:  head down, hands in fists in front of your chest, mouth open yelling a variety of things, and the push and shove begins.  It can get quite nasty (and occasionally funny) and there has been no solution.  There had been ‘guards’ at stops yelling ‘don’t push! Don’t push!  Let them off before you get on!’ to no avail.  Once on the train the conversation always turned to ‘These awful trains!’

Last Friday morning I went to the train stop and was greeted by some new very bright yellow markings all over the side walks; they were lines and arrows resembling traffic lanes.  Not really ‘normal’ traffic lanes, but the kind that you see at very busy intersections where there had been a lot of deadly accidents.  These are seriously ‘aggressive’ lines and arrows that scream ‘This way dummy!  NOW that way!’ 

Since I leave quite early in the morning, there were as yet no people around, but on the way home there were smiling young people dressed in bright red giving out freebies.  We Israelis love freebies!  Who doesn’t? They were giving out a free candy along with a little cartoon booklet showing people how to ‘WAIT’ until the passengers get off BEFORE you try to get on.’  All of the cartoon characters were smiling; they did NOT look Israeli!  We took the little booklet and the candies and waited for the train.  Everyone stood behind the yellow lines and smiled at the red-jacketed workers…UNTIL THE TRAIN CAME.  The battle was on once again!  It is definitely funny.  A dear sis mentioned last night that this campaign was probably started by the complaints of North Americans or Brits and she was likely right!  By the way, the happy cartoon characters also grace posters sprinkled around the train stops.

(I just looked for photos of the campaign for you, but found only this article from a secular Canadian online site that gives you an idea plus photos http://news.nationalpost.com/2013/06/06/its-unpleasant-and-people-push-each-other-jerusalems-light-rail-transit-starts-a-courtesy-campaign/   It’s funny…but also an eye opener if you read the ‘comments’.  ‘Standing in defense of Israel’ can be emotionally painful as I am sure that most of you are aware. One of the things that I noticed in the article was the mention of the couple (2 I believe) of Jewish kids provoking fights with Arab kids on the train.  There was no mention of the (also 2 I believe) stabbings of Jews by Arabs on the train. Note the hostility.)

Explaining Israel…the Jews…it all comes back to The Word…it has ALL been written…and He has provided us with The Holy Spirit…the Interpreter, The Guide Who will lead us into all Truth so that we can rightly divide The Word of Truth.  I am so thankful that He does all things well and as I have been seeking lately to understand His WAYS IN (His) JUDGMENT and to grasp how we are to respond during HIS TIMES OF JUDGMENT, I am reminded that Israel is to be separate, alone and that He too was despised and rejected.  So my only purpose here it to try to remove some of the stumbling stones from before the feet of those of you who may be able to walk here for a limited period of time as a tourist or short term volunteer.

I have rambled on for a long time and should go, but I find that every time I write, I linger in a sort of ‘virtual fellowship’ and I think of the names of those of you on the list and I am so thankful for His way of weaving us into His body together…praying for one another…building one another up in His Holy Spirit.

I have several unspoken (sorry) personal family requests for prayer and I thank those of you whom He has burdened with ‘carrying my family’.  I also have a prayer request for a dear sister (not here) who has just been diagnosed with cancer and will begin treatment soon, although I will not mention her name.  There is another sister among you to whom I write who has recently been deserted by her husband who unexpectedly turned from The Lord who surely needs prayer.  I know that if He wants any of you to carry these before the throne He will enable and remind.

May The Lord fine tune each of us for HIS GLORY alone, and may we be about His business.  LOVINGLY, your sis here.

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Hope for Those Born into Brothels

My good friend Derrick Coy in his recent post, Journey with us through the slums and brothels of India, wrote about the above 2004 documentary film, Born into Brothels. Check out his post for more info on the film.

The first child you meet in the film is a beautiful 10 year-old girl named Kochi who lived in a Calcutta brothel. “They ask me, ‘When are you going to join the line [to be a prostitute]?” she said, looking out the window. “They say it won’t be long.”

Later in the film, a gifted young boy named Avijit, lost his mom because a pimp set her on fire. The police did not even investigate the murder. The devastated Avijit said, “There is nothing called hope in my future.”

All through the disturbing film, which I watched twice, I thought about K. P. Yohannan’s dream of harvest fields in Asia:

…Right in front of me was a river so wide and raging that I dared not step closer or try to cross it…

My heart broke. Was I only going to look at the harvest but not be able to embrace it? I stood there weeping, feeling so helpless and full of despair.

All of a sudden there appeared before me a bridge reaching from one side of the vast river to the other. It was not a narrow bridge, but one that was very broad. It was completely filled with children from all over Asia − poor, destitute children, like those I’d so often seen on the streets of Calcutta, Kathmandu and other Asian cities.

Then it was as though someone spoke to me and said, “If you want to have this harvest, it’s all yours. But this is the bridge you must cross to get it.” (Except from No Longer A Slumdog by K. P. Yohannan, ©2011, page 90)

K.P. Yohannan’s dream became the basis for the Gospel For Asia’s Bridge of Hope. So far, more than 500 Bridge of Hope Centers provide over 60,000 children with the love of Jesus, quality education, daily meal, and medical care. As these young children begin to understand God’s love, they carry the gospel home to their families.

Zani Briski, the main English speaking character, voiced her frustration in the documentary. “I’m not a social worker. I’m not a teacher even. That’s my fear, you know, that I can’t really do anything…” she said.

Bridge of Hope does something, by offering hope for the poor children of India, even those born in brothels.

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Prayer: So Easy To Talk About, Yet So Tough To Do (Part 2)

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The vibrant sounds of Mozart’s Piano Concerto Number Seven swirled through the Beacon Hill mansion’s ballroom. The fifteen females seated around the grand piano, listening to the maestro, had proper Brahmin names like Cabot, Coolidge, Forbes, Lodge, and Shaw. Each traced her ancestry back to the earliest Puritan settlers of Boston. This blueblood lineage insured their invitation to the social tea, no nouveau riche Johnny-come-latelies were among the invitees.

When the pianist completed the piece, he stood and bowed. The women showed their appreciation with warm applause. One of the ladies put her white gloved hands to her mouth and said, “Oh, I would just do anything to be able to play the piano like that.”

The maestro turned and stared at her. His eyes exploded with fire.

“No you wouldn’t,” he said.

The crowd collectively gasped. All felt sorry for the woman who had been openly rebuked by the man’s insensitive words.

As for the lady, she sat stunned, paralyzed by his harsh eyes, tears rolled down her cheeks. Then, as if she remembered her privileged pedigree, she mouthed three defiant words at the pianist: “Yes, I would.”

“No you wouldn’t,” he said again, leaning over the piano toward the lady.

“Because if you really meant what you said, you would have been willing to give up your youth, your teenage years, and eight to ten hours every day practicing on the piano. You see there is a price to sit on this bench. I’ve been willing to pay it, and you have not!”

(Short story from my e-novel, Deceived Dead and Delivered by Larry Nevenhoven, ©2012, Amazon.com)

Like playing Mozart’s Piano Concerto Number Seven, prayer demands an all-effort on our parts if we really want to see God move through our petitions and supplications for our families, friends, neighbors, and cities. How costly will the price eventually be for each of us?

It will cost us everything!

(Continued in Part 3) 

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Inside Israel – Pentecost (Part 2)

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As you have probably guessed by now,  I’m not Debbie, but since she’s taken a sabbatical, I will host Inside Israel where we will hear from our sister in Jerusalem about what she is witnessing there as a believer in Yeshua.  Put your prayer shawls on and pray for Israel and Sister J. Now here she is …

And, speaking of The Bread, the two challot (‘challa’ is the three twined braided shabat bread) that I am hoping to bring to our gathering tomorrow are rising on my stove.  Our fellowship plans to gather together to worship The Lord and bring our own thanksgivings to Him.

Shavuot is actually the 50th day following Passover (which is why it is called Pentecost in English) during which time the grain harvest is ripening and taking place.  We are told in scripture to ‘count the Omer’ (grains of wheat) for 7 weeks of 7 days (49 days) and there is a meditation for each day (again Leviticus 23) and when the time of the grain is full and the grain is full in it’s head, it is really a time to thank God for the new grain harvest – grain being the ‘staff of life’ – and the first fruits of the land as spring and the land is now literally covered with new life!

As the life of the next generation … the seeds… are already amazingly present in each generation…this is evident in all of His creation.

As I walk the several streets from the bus to my work in the morning I have been writing to you in my head.  Here it is… May…and yet what strikes me most is that the fall fruits are already alive in their bursting buds!  My head spins with this visual example of the ‘cycle of life’ that God has given; beautiful grape vines, clean from the rains, press their paths over gates and hedges and already there are evident miniscule clusters of what will become, Lord willing, lush grapes that won’t ripen until their fullness during the fall feasts of Sukkot.  Dazzling my eyes are the florescent pink orange ‘horn’, the dramatic buds of the pomegranate which will signify the fall feasts as well.  I see the fig leaves in full fan already being pulled downward by the heavy dates beginning to develop.  As if a colorful ‘frame’ around this activity, the bright yellow lemons beg to be picked and the air is permeated…full of the fragrance of more flowers then I could take note of … more colors then my eyes can define… all of this and so much more God has given even to us now in our disobedience!

What awaits us in the fulfillment…!  Overhead the swallows (as they are called in America) or swifts (as they are called in Europe) literally darken the morning sky as they feast of the little bugs.  I watch them darting around at a speed that boggles my mind and wonder at how they navigate around one another and buildings.  It is literally a display of nature that one need only to look up to see.  I have had to laugh because as I wait at my bus stop (after getting off the train…) in the morning, it is on a crowded narrow street.  The people crowd into the little ‘tachanat’ or ‘waiting station’ and sort of ‘tolerate’ the time.  One day the swallows (swifts) were just THICK and I was enraptured looking up and watching them.  I took a sudden look around and EVERYONE was gazing up instead of at the ground.  That brought a prayer to me ‘Lord!  Looking up may we see You!  May we FIND You!  Look, Lord!  We are looking UP!’  He is truly so good!

And as truly as the life of the fall fruits are already growing so wonderfully in the bud as the spring harvest takes place, perhaps…dare I say… that this is true in the Spirit as well as the natural?  As Shavuot was given through the hand of Moses…The Holy Spirit came on the self same day through Yeshua h’Meshiach…One God, one seed, one bud, one Fruit…In Him alone is life.  Maybe THIS year?  Even THIS day?

There is much more to share, but I think that in this letter I don’t want to mix the wonder of the seed of what He does and is doing with more words.

Lovingly, with blessing, your sis

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Got Troubles?

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In my younger and single days, my alarm rang at 2:55 AM. I jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, and put on sweat pants and a sweatshirt. I next bowed my knees and prayed till 6 AM at which time I took a shower, ate breakfast, and dressed for the day.  I then walked over to my church and prayed for an hour. Afterward, I put in a full day’s work as a laborer or a car salesman.

This was my routine for almost ten years.

As you can imagine, I earned a reputation as a prayer warrior. People asked me to pray for them or their problems, which I gladly did. I would write their names down and add them to a list. Praying for others was a priority in my life.

But what about my family and my needs?

I usually spent just seconds praying for myself and my family. Many days, I forgot them altogether. And even when I did pray, it was a basic thanksgiving prayer, such as, “Thanks for taking care of my son. Thanks for taking care of my daughter. Thanks for providing healing for me. Thanks for my finances.”

Did my system work? My family had miracles and so did I.

Do you want to know my secret?

How blessed is he who considers the helpless; the LORD will deliver him in a day of trouble. The LORD will protect him and keep him alive, And he shall be called blessed upon the earth; and do not give him over to the desire of his enemies. The LORD will sustain him upon his sickbed; in his illness, You restore him to health. (Psalm 41:1-3)

I discovered that if I helped the poor and helpless, mainly through financial offerings, the Lord would take care of my family and me. This revelation has so impacted my life that I wrote a book, What’s In It For Me? The book is not burning up the New York Times Best Sellers List, but it should, because it absolutely works.

So, now you know why I have no problem advising you to sponsor a child in Gospel For Asia’s Bridge of Hope ministry. You will be blessed and who knows? Many of the miracles you have struggled to receive may run up and tap you on the shoulder.

It’s worked for me for over 25 years… and still counting.

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