Go time...

It’s 1:18am here in Hong Kong. On any normal night, I’m usually trying my hardest to get some sleep before the clock strikes one, but this is no normal night.

For the past hour I’ve been battling the tile floor of my bathroom with a worn out toothbrush and a bottle of bleach. At least I think it was bleach. I’ve grown accustomed to the fact that labels here serve only to keep the contents of their container a mystery to me, leading to only a few mishaps…Anyway, it was quite confusing to me that no matter how hard I scrubbed, the floor didn’t look any cleaner. So I finally admitted defeat and crawled into bed…for the last time.

Beside me, my two suitcases lay wide open, packed to the brim with the contents of my life here. They’re large suitcases; one entire Sarah will fit snugly inside either one of them. Yes, I checked. This afternoon, my closet was a jumble of shoes and shirts and dresses, now it’s completely bare save for a hanger or two that were there to greet me four months ago, the first time I threw open the closet doors. My drawers have been emptied and the moment my feet touch the floor a few hours from now, my sheets will be in the wash. It’s go time.

I’m still trying to convince myself that the sunrise will bring the day long awaited for. In the morning I’ll wheel my luggage down to the curb, and with a final wave to the building guards, hail a taxi for the last leg of my journey to the Call2All at the AsiaWorld Expo.

Right now we’re in a mad dash for the final preparations in what will be the largest Call2All gathering to date. Come Monday morning we will be welcoming over 2,600 people from over 100 nations around the world to be a part of strategizing the fulfillment of the Great Commission. Amazingly, nearly 700 of those delegates will be making their way from Mainland China. The days will be packed with round table sessions, workshops, and evening rallies that will include the public. But before we can get there, we have three days jam packed with tech set-up, volunteer training, material assembly, and on and on.

There’s always a calm before the storm, and I think these final moments lying here in bed will be it. It’s surreal to think that months of meetings and phone calls and emails and PRAYER all come down this week. And it’s only the beginning of what God is going to do through the people at the Call2all. So tomorrow I’ll say goodbye to the mayhem that has been home for four months, but step into something much greater.

"You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." Acts 1:8

Traction Anyone?

Weeks without a word and now two posts in four days?!? Let’s hope this is a habit. I just couldn’t go to bed tonight without letting you in on my most recent misadventure. Lucky for you, the joke is yet again on me…
I took a break from the pandemonium of the office this afternoon to run up the street for a quick bite to eat. After paying my bill and heading for the door, I took one fateful step down the stairs, and fell the remainder of the flight. Well, actually that’s not entirely accurate. It was more like I suddenly relinquished all control of my outer extremities and went barreling down the steps in a take-no-prisoners-she’s-out-for-blood kind of tumble. And blood is exactly what I got.

Had I been even slightly more aware of my surroundings, I could have told you that newly polished marble stairs and traction-free flip flops are combination that will almost always guarantee monumental pain. And lying in a heap at the bottom of the shiny staircase, I was a (barely) living testament to that formula. In an instant, I reclaimed control of my limbs, and I only know this because every single inch of them was screaming in pain. As I regained my composure, the first coherent thought to cross my bewildered mind was “how many bones did I break?” I was completely mystified that one fall could bash up so many different parts of my body. It didn’t take long to realize that I was, in fact, still in one battered piece. Thank you Jesus for sparing any children or elderly from my destructive path. I’m telling you this plunge held the potential to be some innocent bystander’s funeral.

But the real disturbing part about this whole mishap wasn’t the fear of permanently dislocating my right shoulder or even the blood that was seeping into my favorite jeans, it was the second thought to bombard my head immediately after taking inventory of my broken bones. I was overcome with embarrassment as I panicked “how many people just saw me do that?” I jerked my head around in every direction and was comforted to see that not only were my bones in tact, but my pride as well.

I got home this evening and I started to really mull over the progression of my thoughts instantly after my personal trauma. After all, it’s in these moments that our true character is revealed, right? When we are stripped down to our bare reflexes and our knee-jerk reactions uncover what is truly within. It really bugs me that the desire to save face in front of others, strangers no less, ranked so highly on my list of concerns. I lay in bed tonight considering the black hole that I believe we humans have dug for ourselves. We have conditioned ourselves into seeking the approval and acceptance of others to such an extreme that we have forgotten where we’re really supposed to be looking. The fear of man is an attitude that plagues the body of Christ, young and old. But Jesus himself simply left no room for the approval of man in the way he lived his life. Can you imagine how different the bible would read if Jesus had folded or changed his path at the first sign of rejection? Remember, he said “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first.” John 15:18 Even those closest to Jesus ended up denying him, thus the danger in holding the opinions of others in such esteem. People are just people. Flawed, imperfect, and without the mercy of Jesus, utterly doomed for destruction. And yet we still are desperate to fill our needs of approval and love with our fellow man instead of the very source of love himself. The bible pointedly warns us about missing the mark in this area, "The fear of man lays a snare, but whoever trusts in the LORD is safe." Proverbs 29:25. Fearing the possibility that our actions could result in the rejection of others can hinder a life fully surrendered to Jesus. That fear is a snare that Satan would LOVE for you to entangle yourself in. It is a victory for the kingdom of darkness anytime the glory of God is stolen or diminished. Satan finds such pleasure in distracting us from the place of admiration that really matters. The more we look to each other, the more we divert ourselves from the original image we were created in. The bible says that we are aliens of this world, and yet we’re stilling trying to transform ourselves into looking like the natives. Fearing man is equivalent to proclaiming the ways of this world should and can dictate your life choices. Fearing man instead of God robs us from the fullness of life that Jesus talked about in John.

Because here’s the amazing thing: as I sat at the bottom of the stairs reveling in the relief that no one had seen my fall, I was struck by the realization that it also meant no one was there to pick me up. No one was there to dry my tears and put their arm around my waist as I limped back to the office. If we are so busy trying to hide our flaws in an effort to save face, we will totally miss this huge gift that God has given us: each other. We’re wired with a dependency that is meant to be fulfilled by those around us. But it’s not a dependency that refers to praise and admiration. It’s a dependency of fellowship, family, and support. And with this comes and intimacy that requires a willingness to be vulnerable. We need to be brave enough to show our weaknesses so that we may be lifted up by our brothers and sisters. But this must be balanced with the complete pursuit of the thoughts and heart of Jesus, so that saving face is nothing more than an expression..

I’m sure that my pained hobble back to the office turned a head or two on the busy street. But when I finally arrived I was greeted by my coworkers with an outpouring of love that even in this moment makes my heart feel 10 pounds heavier. One quickly pulled a chair underneath me before I fell again and added my tailbone to the growing list of injuries. Another kneeled beside me to pray for my bumps and bruises, while another ran in search of pain relievers. When someone returned with a bottle of alcohol to pour on my wounds I kicked up such a fuss that it was quickly replaced with an antiseptic the color of big purple grapes in the summer time. That bright violet solution is now splotched all over my skin leaving me looking like a 5’6” oompa loompa. But I’m wearing them like little reminders that even though I am completely blessed by the love and approval of my friends and family, the ultimate source of fulfillment is reserved solely for the King of Kings. And he is more than enough.

A blessing? Really?

I feel the need to open this one with a disclaimer …the fact that it’s been over a month since the last post has not been a result of laziness or neglect. Truth be told, I’ve carried the weight of each passing day like another stone in my pocket. I want so desperately to put to words the lessons that I have been learning here, but instead I’ve managed to inscribe a mere fragment of my heart on paper. So here’s the disclaimer: the magnitude of the subject I have taken on goes far beyond me and this blog. But the goal here isn’t to unearth answers to the questions we’ve been asking for decades. It’s to bring you along with me, via the world wide web, to see just a splinter of what the Lord has shown me….Timidity has not been a particularly prominent trait of mine in years past. But sometimes in the midst of the endless meetings that fill my days, I stare across the shiny conference table and into the eyes of someone whose experience and wisdom, and passion to serve the Lord leaves me in awe. I end up feeling like a little girl who has raided her mother’s closet and donned high heels 4 sizes too big. Suddenly I’m swept up in a very vivid and shockingly real game of dress-up, complete with skyscrapers and Chinese speaking characters. But for once, it isn’t my overactive imagination… In my time here so far, I’ve met many incredible people, but a few weeks ago I had the opportunity to sit with two men that have dedicated their lives to the advancement of the Kingdom in mainland China. One is a Chinese native, the other, a Caucasian transplant who’d prefer to shoot the breeze in Mandarin over English any day. They met with our group to help strategize the mobilization of the mainland for the Call2All in June. Our goal is the attendance of over 1,200 leaders from China alone. But what started as any other meeting, quickly transformed into much more. As they spoke, the heavy burden their hearts carry for the people of China settled over the room like a thick blanket. Hearing their first-hand experiences of the state of the church in China was sobering, to say the least. Had someone in that meeting been keeping a close watch on me, they may have witnessed the calloused scales fall from my eyes. Looking back on my notes from that day, I had scribbled these exact words: “the biggest mistake I could make here would be to view the Chinese Church through the same lens and same mindset as that of the Western Church.” You see what we have here, although still a horse, is a horse of a drastically different color. You’ve probably heard it all before. Statistics and numbers, and maybe even some stories about the explosion of the gospel in the East. Tales of missionaries smuggling bibles across the border, or drawing the shades before beginning a quiet prayer meeting. But how could we really comprehend the daily life of a believer in the thick of it? One decision to follow Jesus can mean living a life of constant persecution and fear. Coming from a nation where the claim of Christianity carries little consequence, it’s quite difficult to adapt my mind to the terror of public security officers knowing my name. Attempting to relate to such a radical lifestyle --where professing Jesus as your Lord and Savior truly will cost you everything -- is a little bit difficult when sitting in the trendy new coffee shop in the church foyer. So let me reiterate what I hope you already know. The Church in China is exploding. In many places, it’s growing so quickly the pastors can’t provide enough bibles for the congregations; they can’t find a building large enough to contain their newest converts. People are responding to Jesus in such massive numbers that to get an accurate count of Christians in China is nearly impossible. In a land where they have every reason for their numbers to be squelched, they’re multiplying exponentially. So why, in the land of plenty, are we Americans watching our youth programs fade, and our churches close their doors?There are a thousand answers to this mystery. But, the seemingly bitter circumstances of persecution and strife provide an element we seem to lack; undivided focus. Here there is an understanding of truly laying down your life for the Kind of Kings and allowing absolutely nothing to sway you. Very few churches in China have the opportunity to be distracted by the debate over paint colors in the new east wing. Instead their resources are spent in search of the most basic of teaching materials to disciple their flocks. I heard it said the other day that the Church in the West is about self, while the church in persecuted China is about sacrifice. You see, in a typical house church on the mainland, the members will come together and choose one family’s home to begin meeting in. That family will then completely relocate their furniture and belongings and move out of the place they have always called home. Then to make room for their meetings, they’ll knock out all the walls and take advantage of every possible space. This becomes the church’s meeting place until the public security bureau finds them out and raids their gathering, causing its members to flee to the next home. Recently I finished reading The Heavenly Man, a book by Brother Yun detailing his journey to raise up the house church movement across mainland China. Brother Yun has been imprisoned for years on end and beaten within an inch of his life too many times to count. No matter how much of his life was spent suffering behind bars or on the run for the next safe haven, he refused to deny his Savior. And it’s from the depths of those jail cells that he gained the wisdom to grasp the effect the hardships have had on the body of Christ. He says, “When you’re faced with trials, the key is not to run from them or fight them, but to embrace them as friends. When you do this you’ll not fail to experience God’s presence and help… There is always a purpose behind why God allows his children to go to prison.”In the West, it is so safe to claim the name of Jesus that we have trained ourselves to cower at the first sign of harassment or mistreatment. In the face of what we consider adversity, we are quick to admit defeat or, worse, compromise our beliefs. And now I see the safety and freedom that has been our greatest blessing, has in turn become our biggest downfall. Complacency has crept in like a thief in the night and disguised itself as the comfortable church. Many who have gone before me, much wiser than I, have to come to this very conclusion that perhaps it’s the persecution that invokes the full and steadfast commitment we try so desperately to create. It births the kind of allegiance that can’t be shaken and spreads like wildfire, impossible to contain. It ignites a desire to live for something worth dying for. Could it be we are terrified of the essential element we need to be revived? Brother Yun goes on in his book to say “I pray that God might use the Chinese church to help the Western church rise up and walk in the power of the Holy Spirit. It’s almost impossible for the church in China to go to sleep in its present situation. There’s always something to keep us on the run. If persecution stops, I fear we’ll become complacent and fall asleep….Don’t pray for the persecution to stop! We shouldn’t pray for a lighter load to carry, but a stronger back to endure! Then the world will see that God is with us, empowering us to live in a way that reflects his love and power. This is true freedom!” It amazes me how staunchly different his perception of true freedom is from my own. I wonder if I have the courage to pray for a stronger back, rather than a lighter load. We live in a nation, where like it or not, we will always be in the middle of building projects and programs. We can’t, and shouldn’t, abandon the realities of our church in the West. But we must catch hold of a life of undivided focus on Jesus, despite everything vying for our attention, and cling to it for all we’re worth. We don’t face the same persecution of the Church in China, but we do face hardships and struggles in our faith. Maybe it’s time to embrace them as the blessings they secretly are; to pray for a stronger back to endure. Maybe then, and only then, we will also witness increase beyond measure.

Come Again?

I can’t help but wonder what part of my character God is working on through the ruthless pounding of the jack-hammer directly beneath my office window. Sitting painstakingly still behind a desk is not exactly a gift that I possess on a good day, throw in the steady thumping of heavy machinery and you have a seriously antsy missionary. Some days I fear the walls are coming down, and there is no volume level on my laptop that can compete with this thing; by four pm I swear I can feel it through the floor. OK God, what’s that about?
God has really assembled an all-star team of locals to serve on the Call2All preparation committee. Our three chairmen are as gifted as they are diverse; a pastor, a YMCA director, and CEO of a finance company. Around them are a group of just as capable individuals from every sphere of society. Together our job is to oversee each and every detail of the coming congress, from sound and lighting to speakers and program. No big deal.
I’ve found that with every great move of God comes great challenges and obstacles from the enemy, and this congress is no different. Our goal here is to bring our team from the international head quarters in the U.S., and the all-star team here in Hong Kong together and work as a well-oiled machine. But so far our biggest struggle has been in the area of communication to do just that. Wherever Satan can throw a wrench in the system, he will, and be it language barriers or just plain cultural differences, we have been hard pressed to get everyone on the same page. We have been learning the hard way that many times, information that we thought had been clearly communicated came through with more static than clarity, which as you may know causes confusion and frustration. If the enemy really gets his way, it can end up causing rifts and bitterness and ultimately disunity among the body of Christ. I love the truth in Psalm 133 where the Lord commands a blessing upon his children that come together in unity. That’s where the power is, when we work as one in the physical and also in the spirit toward the goal that God has lain out before us. We serve a God who desires us to be in loving relationships with each other, and without them, our well-oiled machine is nothing but a rusty hunk of metal.
So what about that jack hammer? In my mind, the obvious lesson here would be patience for my overly sensitive nerves. But a deeper look shows me much more. It’s the perseverance and commitment to communicate through the noise. Despite the racket and distractions, we must value relationship as much as God does and love each other enough to press on through the challenges until we’re all running this race together. The jack hammer is annoying. Understatement. The jack hammer makes me want to bolt out of my office for the nearest library or museum or anywhere that excessive noise is frowned upon. But the jack hammer in no way warrants giving up, or quitting. We still have a job to do; we are still called to Hong Kong. And no matter how many jack hammers satan has in his tool box, we’re going to push through with our brothers and sisters to work in the unity that God has called us to. Whether that means having the conversation more than once, or sending the email again we’ll stick with it until we get it. Even if that means stocking up on hard hats…ya never know.

Practically Local

Now that the jet lag is wearing off, I think I’m coherent enough to give you a somewhat accurate and hopefully amusing account of my first week in this city. With a little assistance from the Starbuck’s across the street, and my Simply Sleep tablets, I’ve been able to thoroughly confuse my body clock into thinking I’ve always been in this time zone. Thankfully I haven’t been staring at the ceiling at 3am wondering if I should get up and make lunch. Siesta patterns aside, I’m growing more appreciative of my previous YWAM treks that have taught me to acclimate to new cultures fairly quickly. Fortunately for me, Hong Kong is so multicultural that walking down the street feels a lot like a United Nations gathering, so I’m not constantly sticking out like sore thumb (my face doesn’t exactly scream ‘local’ but that might be asking too much). So after my first week learning the lay of the land, I’ve learned some important lessons that may be useful for you future travels to my new home: #1 It’s impossible to survive without an octopus card, which is a little plastic pass that can be electronically loaded with money and used not just for the purchase of bus and train tickets, but in the majority of restaurants and shops as well (rumor has it the next step is implanting it in your wrist, but I’ll jet outta here before that one). #2 I’ve become an expert in the multiples of seven, as the exchange rate from Hong Kong to US dollars is currently 7.7 to 1. #3 I’ve found that you can’t buy tortillas or natural peanut butter at the grocery store, but you can buy as many duck tongues and chicken feet as you can carry. I’m brave, but maybe not that brave. #4 On any average day, I will walk the equivalent of approximately one marathon. Unless I develop some willingness to sacrifice my stilettos that are perhaps more appropriate for a 5k, I’ll have to opt for the flip flops. #5 No matter how much quality time I spend with my hair straightener, the 100% humidity will always win out in the end. I will learn to love the curls that the good Lord gave me.
I’m sure this list will grow to a small novel in the coming months; I’m currently accepting offers for a book deal. Anyway, it hasn’t all been fun and games as Tuesday was officially my first day on the job with the Call2All. My job here is very similar to what it was with the Impact World Tour. I work with local volunteers toward the global congress this June. We’re still in the process of vision sharing and promoting, in not just Hong Kong, but all over Asia. The goal is to have delegates representing every nation on Earth. When we are strategizing to fulfill the great commission, it has to include every country.
Our local committee has welcomed me into their team and we’ve jumped head first into the preparations for the coming congress. I’m still trying to recover from the devastating blow that I won’t be living on Noah’s Ark with animals two by two. I did however attend a vision casting meeting on the ship that made me realize it was quite a blessing to avoid the multiple ferries and train rides required to get to the incredibly secluded island.
For the Call2All Congress we’ll be using the Asia World Expo Center, which just so happens to be one of the most impressive structures I have ever seen. After our visit there on Friday, I came to the conclusion that we could fit the entire population of Hong Kong inside this massive center.
All in all, I’m so grateful for how God went ahead and prepared the way for me to come here. I feel so blessed to wake up here every day and be a part of this ministry. This has been a wonderful induction to my time here, and it only raises the anticipation for what God is up to.
Stay tuned, I’ll be posting pictures as soon as possible! And keep your eye on the best seller list for my up and coming book, Hong Kong for Gringos.

Welcome to the Mayhem

I’m really hesitant to tell you my first impression of China. Not because it was a bad one, but rather you might be forced to question my sanity. I’m incredibly determined not to miss a single moment of this experience, so I’m constantly telling myself to take note of every detail. Remember every sound, and face, and color.
It was about 7:30 in the evening when I finally found the exit doors of the airport. Everybody knows that you haven’t actually visited a new country until you’ve been outside of the airport, so this was my big moment. I could see the waiting car through the automatic glass doors and as I approached they were thrown open before me. The months of anticipation and planning and excitement collided together and like a wave, it hit me: pancakes. Seriously, China smelled like pancakes. I thought it was strange too, that my first inclination was to make a run for the nearest IHOP. I wasn’t even hungry.
I didn’t have a whole lot of time to dwell on breakfast food because in just minutes we were zipping through the most densely populated city I had ever seen. This place makes New York City look like wide open space. Every single available surface is utilized to its full potential, allowing 7 million people to exist in approximately 15 miles. A far cry from the expanses of my native Colorado. Our driver expertly navigated his way to Kowloon, the most central part of the city. My eyes began to adjust and decipher the messages that the sea of neon was screaming at me. British, Japanese, Thai, Italian, you name it, they’ve got it. And it’s probably all in the same block. There are enough Indian tailors encamped on street corners to keep the entire nation of Ethiopia looking like Armani models. And judging from their sales techniques, the mere color of my skin is a billboard telling them that I am desperate for a new custom tailored suit.
In Kowloon, we came to a stop in front of Hankow Centre, my new home. One of my favorite couples that I have worked with on the Impact World Tour for years, Marty and Candice Emmett, have adopted me into their family that just a year ago grew by identical twin boys, Malachi and Josiah. The five of us share a wonderful apartment that by Hong Kong standards is huge. The local committee here decided that this location was much more conducive to the demands of our job, so we won’t be living on Noah’s Ark after all. Though it was quite a disappointment to realize I won’t be needing my life guarding skills, it’s hard to be upset about the incredible location that we now reside in. Flexibility has always been the name of this game and the Lord has blessed us through it. Our apartment is actually in the same building that our office is in, and quite literally a stone’s throw to the nearest starbucks. But I checked, and they don’t serve pancakes.

We have lift off

I think I will always remember February 13th as one of the largest and most challenging leaps of faith that God has ever asked of me. In the past, traveling and making my home and ministry in a new place has never scared me. But the trying personal circumstances surrounding this move to Hong Kong meant that every crutch I had relied on, be it friends, family, or even the comfort of my own culture, was suddenly stripped away. The Lord was asking me to step onto that airplane devoid of any tangible security blanket that I could come up with. And believe me, it wasn’t for lack of trying. Many will bear witness to the moments I realized that as soon as the flight attendant closed the doors in San Francisco, even my beloved cell phone would be deemed useless. Through my crocodile tears I paid absolutely no attention to her attempts at teaching me to buckle my seat belt and navigate my way to the exits. That’s right, we’re getting vulnerable now, I cried. No, I sobbed. I made the guy across the aisle wish he spoke English so that he could calm me down. What a day.
Fortunately for me, I had 15 hours of flight time to stare at the seat in front of me and really process this rather uncharacteristic fear of uncharted territory. I won’t lie to you, the first few hours weren’t pretty, although our foreign friend was pretty grateful that the waterworks came to a halt shortly after take off. It didn’t take me long to begin praying through one of the scriptures that I hold tightly in my heart. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27. There is just no way to truly explain the kind of grace that the Lord provides in the depths of your struggles. My dad always says that the peace that passes all understanding is just that, the kind of indescribable calm and stillness that can come solely from the love and grace of the father. It’s the supernatural power to lift your pain-stricken and fearful heart up into the comfort of the almighty.
For the rest of my flight I drifted in and out of sleep (thank you Jesus for the two empty seats beside me!) all the while heeding the Lord’s reminders that he has given me everything I need for this moment. And he will never leave me to fend for myself. I remember feeling a surge of strength as the wheels touched down in the 75 degree February weather of Hong Kong. This was a new journey for God to not only use me in the Call2All, but to do a great work in me. I made my way through customs wrestling with the luggage I was sure outweighed me by at least a few (hundred) pounds. When I rounded the corner I couldn’t help but smile. The friendly Chinese man held a handwritten sign that boldly stated not only my name, but the divine reminder that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.