Evendays

We got to the airport, went through the customs line, got checked out and okayed by those friendly folks protecting our borders, went to the mystery carousel that spit out our luggage after the mandatory waiting period, met two people from Abilene before we even got out the doors…

I am one of the world’s worst travellers. My mind tends to turn to mush about 48 hours before take-off. I have been known to forget passports in a drawer, airline tickets on the dining room table and, the worst sin of all, to actually believe the man at the airline counter who assured me that my visa would be waiting when I arrived in a certain, un-named, Latin-american country.

I tend to get more and more irritable as the packing process grows longer. 38% of the stuff I bring I never use, for my pre-voyage mind is filled with thoughts like: This pocket widget will really come in handy if ever…

The night before the trip is nearly always a losing battle to fall asleep. But then you go through those doors out into the arrival area, you search those faces for just one you can recognize…

And there it is. That makes the trip worth it.

Our LST project is winding down. Bryn and Blake have met some wonderful people and we should be able to continue some sort of a relationship with 5 or 6 of their new friends. It’s always an exciting time when you get to work with people from all different levels of faith. Some are from other religions and just want to go a bit deeper while using their English. Others are experiencing a thirst of things spiritual, centered on Jesus, that grows in intensity and can also invigorate the “teacher’s” faith. Thank God for those people. Several of the new Christians at the Lausanne church are from past LST efforts. So please keep our new friends in your prayers. And thanks to all of you who have supported different LST projects. Hugs to all of you who financed this team!

It’s Saturday evening and we are back. Here are the three days, two nights in Ardèche (in numbers): 57 pies. 28 cakes. 160 brownies. 17 trout caught and released. 0 kept. Switzerland 2, South Korea 0. 2 kids, found safe at home. 1 house, still intact. Happy campers, all of us. May God bless your Sunday around his Son’s table.

I’m checking out for a few days, heading to the Ardèche region of France. Wife is going to bake and freeze desserts for the summer kid’s camp. She figures she can save the camp some money this way and also be a big help, even if we’re not there to take on our regular responsibilities later on in the summer (when we’ll be eating other people’s food). Me? I’m taking some light tackle and spending some time on some of the small rivers, seeing if I can scare up a few trout. Then I might take a nap in the afternoon. And if it rains, I can always wash dishes. See you on Sunday.

Today is my 150th post. Wife suggested I break the rules and post the following TRUE story. I wrote it up a couple of years ago. Some of our ministry partners have seen it. I think it’s worth a read. Thanks. – Often times we do things expecting immediate results. And if the results aren’t immediately visible, we may feel discouragement, or even think that our efforts were worthless. It’s always best just to do the right thing because it’s the right thing. I was speaking to the church about their commitment to worship the Lord and their desire to build strong relationships with their brothers and sisters. I reminded them that these relationships are not only important for them today, but also for 10, 20 or 30 years from now. These relationships will allow them to grow in joy and God will use their “now” commitment to bless them in the future. I received this unexpected blessing on Wednesday night, November 17, 1999. I’d jumped on the first train that was going to Geneva. My final destination was Marseilles and I’d left the house early, which would give me over an hour in Geneva to change trains. So I stored back-pack on the luggage rack and sat down. Two college-age girls were speaking English in the seats next to me and talking about their churches. So I interrupted and asked them if they were Christians. They said yes, so I asked them what they were doing in Europe. “We’re students at Harding University and we go to the extension campus in Florence, Italy. We’re on our way to Nice, France.” Well, we’ve had lots of students visit us from Harding—students who’ve come to distribute Bible course information in mailboxes—so I told them I was a minister for the church of Christ in Lausanne. What a coincidence to meet on the train, in the same wagon, going to the same place! One of the girls was from San Francisco, one from Nashville. 6 other heads popped up from elsewhere in the same compartment. There were actually 8 girls traveling together. As we introduced ourselves, one of the girls said, “Hey, my brother’s name is Brady too.” (There aren’t too many Bradys in this world, for a given name, anyway.) We talked about Europe and about the churches, where the girls could worship when they got to Barcelona on Sunday, etc. While talking, I found out that the Harding student with the brother named Brady knew one of the girls in the Christian internship in Marseilles, where I was going to teach. She wrote a message for me to give to the intern, signing her name “Erin R____.” Halfway to Geneva, I asked Erin where here brother had got his name. She said her parents had known someone a long time ago and had liked the name and the person. That’s how they’d found it. Now my own name came from a wonderful man my parents love very much. I was hoping that Erin’s parents knew the same person. “So you don’t remember who this person was?” “No. It was a long time ago. Just someone they knew before I was born.” “How old are your parents?” “52.” “And your brother?” “22.” It was evident that we weren’t named after the same person. I learned that they’d lived around Sacramento for nearly 20 years and her dad was a preacher in a small town called Rescue. Her parents had gone to Fresno State University, but they’d never mentioned anything to Erin about the church there. “And what’s your dad’s name?” “Phil.” “And your mom?” “Cathy.” Somewhere inside my brain, a bell, or at least a very dull thud, had gone off. When I asked if she had a picture, she said no. But then her friends reminded her of the ones in her Bible. They could tell that something really neat was happening. Erin came back with the pictures… from 1971. (Can you believe she was carrying a 30 year old picture of her parents in her Bible? She let me know they didn’t look anything like that anymore…) When I looked at the picture, I was staring into the face of my sixth grade Wednesday night Bible school teacher from the College church of Christ. “Erin, I know how your parents got your brother’s name. Before leaving Fresno, your dad told me that if they ever had a boy, they’d name him Brady. Their first child was a girl, and then they moved away. And that was the last I heard from them.” Erin kept repeating, “This cannot be true! This is incredible. This is NOT happening.” (Well, she IS from California…) So, at a Geneva pay phone, I called Phil R_____. “Phil, this is Brady S____. I’m calling from Switzerland.” No answer. “Phil, this is Brady S_____. Do you remember me?” “Brady, I’ve got the other Brady on the line. Can you hold just a minute?” I held. “Brady, how are you?” (It was the first time since the birth of his son that he’d ever called anyone else “Brady”.) “How did you get the name Brady for you son?,” I asked. “Well, we liked the name, and you’ve got to name the child after someone you admire. And he’s a good kid…” We talked for a couple minutes—he in California. I in Geneva. Then I told him there was someone he needed to talk to. I handed the phone to his daughter, Erin. “Dad! Can you believe…?” The right train. The right car. The right train compartment. The right conversation. The right question. The right picture. Boy! Was it hard to get to sleep that night.

Switzerland got lucky during a very sloppy first half, took the lead after 15 minutes, then came back on the field fired up and actually out-played the Togolese. The Nati won 2-0. (Horns are honking all over town.) Just a tie against South Korea on Friday evening sends us into the next round. I know you don’t care, but thanks for pretending.

I walked home today one of the older ladies from the neighborhood who comes to church whenever her health permits. Her husband’s in a nice rest home nearby and she’s been part of this neighborhood forever. Both of these lovely people pray for us daily and mention many by name when they worship God. She asked me about our trip this upcoming weekend, about how we were feeling about a couple that’s not part of the church anymore. She wanted information concerning a young couple who have a small child and find it difficult to worship with us regularly, wanting to know how she could help. She loves them. Then she said: “Both my husband and I are sad that we can’t be more supportive of the work you are doing. We love the church, and wish our health let us be more involved. For many Christians do not seem to love the church. I think they love Jesus but find it hard to commit to his body.” She wasn’t complaining. She just wanted to make things better, to grab hold of something good and help it grow instead of seeing it weaken, to be there for her spiritual family.

After today, the kids have 3 more days of classes before summer vacation. As high school-ers without finals, they’ll get out earlier than the seniors or those not yet in “gymnase” (our canton’s name for high school). Vacation time is nearly a constitutional right in many European countries. I know in France, there is an association called “Vacations for everyone” that gets kids out of the cities and into the mountains. Even the unemployed expect time off. Everyone starts a new position with 4 week’s vacation per year plus the 10 holidays. After just a couple of years, they pop it up to 5 weeks. One of my buddies from Geneva works for the city. He started with 7 full weeks of vacation time! Used to be that if you didn’t have the money to go away during the summer months, you borrowed it. And everyone has a story about families who were ashamed to be at home in the summer, so they closed the shutters and pretended they weren’t home. But now, more and more people admit to staying home and seeing the sites around Lausanne: lake, mountains, coffee on a terrace… Which makes sense to me. I mean, they are in Switzerland.

The Tuesday night Bible study ended in a 0-0 draw between the Swiss and the French. That’s not all that bad, because half the church in Geneva is Swiss, half is French, and half is from South America. I asked Wife about the match when I got home late last night. She said it was interesting, but she was reading TIME and watching the match simultaneously so she wasn’t really the one to ask. Unfortunately, she couldn’t really hear the Swiss sport commentators. Daughter had invited 3 friends over to watch the match and chatted through the whole thing. I think they did decide which player was the cutest, which doesn’t translate into any points but is nearly as important as goal differential. Son 2 thought we should have won. Got some great international comments on the last post. Check out Ocular Fusion for good commentary from Virginia (?) about Team USA’s diminishing chances for advancement. Wife has been looking for souvenirs to take to nephews-nieces on an upcoming trip. She was surprised by the number of England t-shirts for sale. No USA stuff. And no USA flags either, Sandra. Sorry. BTW, see the Haiku competition on Steve’s blog. A real hoot.

The FIFA World Cup 2006 (soccer) started last Friday night in Germany. We got to see part of the first match on TV, but then 9 people showed up for a Bible Study so we missed four of the goals. But it was fun. Neighborhood windows are full of flags. Most of them are red and white, and Switzerland has it’s first match on Tuesday evening against our no-love-lost neighbor, France. (Son 2 saw a Swiss fan t-shirt that proclaimed loyalty to the Swiss National Team (Nati) and any other team that was playing against… FRANCE.) You guessed it, I’m teaching a Bible study during that match too. Oh well, “Love not the world…” From about 1 of every 12 balconies hangs a Portuguese flag, by far the largest contingent of foreigners in Lausanne. For good measure, you also see Spanish and Italian flags, even some from Brazil (zough I hazn’t seen zeny French “drapeaux”… Not worth zee risque, I image-ine!) Our family is pulling for 3 teams, in the following order: Switzerland, USA and Ukraine. Oh, yes. And for any team playing against France. Hop Suisse!