Wednesday, November 20, 2013 - Kabul, Afghanistan
There is a given with any Flatirons trip to visit one of our partner organizations: Every team has its own personality. You take a group of people, each with their own personalities, quirks, desires, and way of connecting...put them together for several days and the group takes on a life of its own.
As a whole, this 2013 men's team is a VERY fun group of guys. One of the group put it this way, "I don't think I've ever laughed this much...when beer wasn't involved!" It's true. There's been more laughing and cutting up with this trip than any trip I've taken...in Colorado or Texas.
We've got seven guys on this men's trip to Afghanistan and I can't help but categorize them, like America did with The Beatles in the 60s (John is the "smart one", Paul the "cute one", etc.). Here's how I've broken down this team down in alphabetical order:
Bob is our wise and gentle leader...
Brad is our deep thinker...
David is our well-traveled, grizzled vet...
Jake and Jim are our young, wide-eyed first timers...
...and Zeke is our prankster.
Of course, each of these men are so much more, but it gives you a quick idea of their personalities and how they might play into the team dynamics.
So, each morning we've been getting up and going through a devotion centering the life of Abraham--the key (and common) Bible character in the 3 main world religions: Judaism, Islam and Christianity. This morning we started by answering the question, "Have you ever had God speak to you?"
Now, this team was put together half a year ago. We've gone through several trainings and prep meetings, and we've done a handful of social get togethers too. So, when Zeke answered, "Yeah, about 10 years ago when I kicked meth" and tried to continue, I blurted out, "Whoa! Whoa! Hold on there cowboy! You're going to have to explain that one!"
Zeke went on to share his story of being addicted to meth...of trying to get help and getting no answer from 8 clinics and a, "We're full, but good luck getting help" from another...and then, of his dream, where Jesus sat next to Zeke and told him he needed to change. Zeke finished by telling us he kicked meth the next day...with no help from anyone...except Jesus.
Some of the guys already heard Zeke's story the night before, but the old farts (yours truly) who went to bed early missed it...and sat there with our mouths hanging open...amazed at his story...and the way God works. As I already wrote, this team of 7 (now sitting in a living room in Kabul) had been picked 6 months ago...from a pool of about 20 men who were interested in joining us in Afghanistan and we interviewed.
And the devotion we were doing this morning...dealing with how God speaks to us...was prepared and written and printed almost 2 months ago...long before any of us knew anything about Zeke's story. And I was struck by these two truths:
God is always SO far ahead of us; orchestrating every step we make and piecing together our lives...like little, brightly colored tiles into one, big, beautiful mosaic.
God is at work in lives of the people in this church we call Flatirons like I have never experienced before...and a lot of times, I get a front row seat to it!
I know God can do anything and that He is in the redeeming business, I just never saw it as blatantly and in-your-face before as I do at Flatirons now. Maybe it's because I wasn't looking hard enough before or maybe it's because people are SO much more open and honest about their past mistakes here.
I don't know. All I really know is this, I love it!
And I love that God was WAY out ahead of us, planning, preparing and orchestrating the paths of:
- a BMW repair shop owner
- a charter school CPA
- a former editorial cartoonist
- a world-traveling engineer
- two best buds since childhood and...
- a former meth head
Working in the lives of each of us and putting us all together to do His will in Kabul, Afghanistan. No one could ever (or would ever) even think of doing things this way except God...and I am forever humbled and thankful.
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." Isaiah 55:8-9
Dan
Friday, November 22, 2013
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Map
Tuesday, November 19, 2013 - Kabul, Afghanistan
We went to Istalif today--a beautiful little village north of Kabul known for its vineyards and pottery. Me? I think, more the clay pots, it should be known for its kabobs.
Our 2012 men's team traveled up to Istalif in April to visit the clinic our partner established and supported. We also ate kabobs by the river and...hands down...kabobs by the river was (and is) one of my top 5...maybe top 2...favorite meals of all time.
Istalif, this (now) idyllic community, was a place completely devastated and destroyed by the Taliban during the war in the 90s. The Taliban took a slash-and-burn approach when they seized control of Istalif, cutting down or burning almost every tree and grapevine in town. But over the last 15 years the people of Istalif have slowly rebuilt this area into the small, thriving community it is today.
And all it took was a map.
Sitting there by the river today, waiting for these delicious lamb kabobs, cooked by a local vendor over a small wood grill about the size of a computer keyboard, we were told the story of the rebuilding of Istalif--and the turning point in its reconstruction. Our host explained that after the war the community of Istalif was fractured and unable to unite and help each other. There was infighting and distrust which stopped any chance of rebuilding.
Then, someone got the idea to draw up a map--one showing each of the various neighborhoods in Istalif. The map ended up serving as a great tool in showing this war-torn, fractured community where each person fit into the community as a whole--giving everyone in Istalif a "big picture" look of their home...and of their neighbor's homes.
Map = Community.
A map is really just a diagram. A diagram of the many parts that make up the whole...and the best way to see where you are...and how to get to where you want to go. I couldn't quit thinking today that it's the same with the church. The church is just a picture of a body of many parts--the Body of Christ. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 12:12, "Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ."
And just like those folks in Istalif, if we don't look at the big picture to see where each of us fits into the whole...we're in trouble. We will miss our connection with each other (called "community") and we miss our connection with Christ. What would those people of Istalif have done if they hadn't seen that map...the big picture...and started helping each other? They would have continued to flounder and struggle...and eventually...their community would have collapsed in ruin. Likewise, if we, as part of a church called: Flatirons, don't draw together in community...we will eventually struggle, and without any support, we will also collapse in ruin.
A sobering thought.
One of the best things that happens on these men's trips is the connection (and community) that is built. The 7 of us have already bonded as a group of men from Flatirons with a connection that I know will carry on long after we have returned home, and this trip is a mere memory. I mean, spend 10 solid days together traveling, laughing, eating and doing life together...and you've got something. Paul called it a body of many parts. We call it church.
And a church can be anywhere. It can be at 355 W. South Boulder Road in Lafayette, CO...and it can also be along a river side in Istalif, Afghanistan. Each one a holy place where you can bump into Jesus.
Dan
We went to Istalif today--a beautiful little village north of Kabul known for its vineyards and pottery. Me? I think, more the clay pots, it should be known for its kabobs.
Our 2012 men's team traveled up to Istalif in April to visit the clinic our partner established and supported. We also ate kabobs by the river and...hands down...kabobs by the river was (and is) one of my top 5...maybe top 2...favorite meals of all time.
Istalif, this (now) idyllic community, was a place completely devastated and destroyed by the Taliban during the war in the 90s. The Taliban took a slash-and-burn approach when they seized control of Istalif, cutting down or burning almost every tree and grapevine in town. But over the last 15 years the people of Istalif have slowly rebuilt this area into the small, thriving community it is today.
And all it took was a map.
Sitting there by the river today, waiting for these delicious lamb kabobs, cooked by a local vendor over a small wood grill about the size of a computer keyboard, we were told the story of the rebuilding of Istalif--and the turning point in its reconstruction. Our host explained that after the war the community of Istalif was fractured and unable to unite and help each other. There was infighting and distrust which stopped any chance of rebuilding.
Then, someone got the idea to draw up a map--one showing each of the various neighborhoods in Istalif. The map ended up serving as a great tool in showing this war-torn, fractured community where each person fit into the community as a whole--giving everyone in Istalif a "big picture" look of their home...and of their neighbor's homes.
Map = Community.
A map is really just a diagram. A diagram of the many parts that make up the whole...and the best way to see where you are...and how to get to where you want to go. I couldn't quit thinking today that it's the same with the church. The church is just a picture of a body of many parts--the Body of Christ. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 12:12, "Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ."
And just like those folks in Istalif, if we don't look at the big picture to see where each of us fits into the whole...we're in trouble. We will miss our connection with each other (called "community") and we miss our connection with Christ. What would those people of Istalif have done if they hadn't seen that map...the big picture...and started helping each other? They would have continued to flounder and struggle...and eventually...their community would have collapsed in ruin. Likewise, if we, as part of a church called: Flatirons, don't draw together in community...we will eventually struggle, and without any support, we will also collapse in ruin.
A sobering thought.
One of the best things that happens on these men's trips is the connection (and community) that is built. The 7 of us have already bonded as a group of men from Flatirons with a connection that I know will carry on long after we have returned home, and this trip is a mere memory. I mean, spend 10 solid days together traveling, laughing, eating and doing life together...and you've got something. Paul called it a body of many parts. We call it church.
And a church can be anywhere. It can be at 355 W. South Boulder Road in Lafayette, CO...and it can also be along a river side in Istalif, Afghanistan. Each one a holy place where you can bump into Jesus.
Dan
Monday, November 18, 2013
Dust
Monday, November 18, 2013 - Kabul, Afghanistan
Flying from Dubai into Kabul is jarring. One city, an oasis in the desert...the epitome of wealth, modernity and opulence. The other, the polar opposite...a dust-covered throwback to a hard time pre-dating the gas engine and indoor plumbing.
As we descended over the jagged, snow covered, ridges of the Hindu Kush Mountains, Kabul came into view. First, the sight of thousands of small brick and mud homes...the perimeter of each home encased by a mud and brick privacy wall. Huge industrial lots filled with cargo containers stacked upon cargo containers. Then, as the jet engines revved and the landing gear dropped, we could see, sitting in a haloed cloud of dust and exhaust fumes, the center of Kabul.
And it was beautiful.
Like everyone else I know who has visited Kabul, I fell in love with this place when I came here a year ago in April with a team of men from Flatirons. It is a noisy, frenetic, busy place clogged with trucks and cars and boys on bicycles. The streets are lined with men in shop doorways...and women covered in burkas...and children running, dodging the traffic...and soldiers at checkpoints. As we dart back and forth through the (insanely hard to describe) rush hour traffic we can see stores and shops and businesses that seem to repeat themselves again and again: a produce stand, a naan bakery, a butcher, a rug dealer, a parts shop, a produce stand, a butcher, a naan bakery...and so on.
We were warmly greeted at the guest house (our home for the next several days) by our friends--the staff from our partner, based in Kabul. It was a time (for some of us) to get reacquainted with our old friends...and a time (for others) to meet these amazing people and start relationships that with leave indelible marks on their hearts and souls...the same way our hearts have been marked.
Then we ate...and we ate...and we ate because they feed us (and treat us) like kings here.
After a sound night's sleep, we spent the morning in discussion, and debrief, and in devotion. We're going to look at the life of Abraham on this trip--a man called "God's Friend" and a main character in the story of the three main religions of the world: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Then, we ate...again before heading out to the little village of Barek Aub, a community of displaced Afghans that Flatirons has been trying to support and help for over 7 years. As we made the hour drive from Kabul to Barek Aub, I was struck by the amount of dust everywhere. It hung in the air all the way from Kabul out to the tiny community of Barek Aub.
Dust. Dust everywhere, reminding me of what the world was like when Jesus walked it. It had to be worse back then. Walking everywhere. Heads, beards, feet...covered in dust and dirt. Feet that needed to be washed...by a Savior...a lesson to be learned in what's expected as a follower of Him.
There's an old Jewish saying that goes like this, "May you be covered by the dust of your rabbi." Meaning this, may you be so closely connected and involved in the life and work of your rabbi that you are completely covered in his dust. I know that each of us on this trip wants to be as closely connected as possible to our rabbi and Savior, Jesus. Walking through Barek Aub, it's so evident that the followers of Jesus who call themselves Flatirons Community Church have had a great impact on the lives of these Afghans collected on the side of this mountain. The well. The school. The clinic. All evidence of our faith...lived out through generous giving.
But the thing that keeps gnawing at me...standing on the dusty streets of Barek Aub, driving the dusty Afghan roads, and sitting here...staring out the dust covered windows of the guest house is this: Am I covered by dust too?
And the answer hurts.
I wish I could say that the dust of Jesus covers me, but the truth is, most of the time, I'm covered in my own dust--dirt from my own selfish interests and self pursuits...more interested in my own comfort, than my character...which can only be honed by closely following Jesus.
I hope and pray that when we come home from this beautiful, dirty, dusty land...and once we've washed the dust of Afghanistan from our clothes...that each of us remains dusty and dirty...
...and that we're completely covered in the dust of our Rabbi.
Dan
Flying from Dubai into Kabul is jarring. One city, an oasis in the desert...the epitome of wealth, modernity and opulence. The other, the polar opposite...a dust-covered throwback to a hard time pre-dating the gas engine and indoor plumbing.
As we descended over the jagged, snow covered, ridges of the Hindu Kush Mountains, Kabul came into view. First, the sight of thousands of small brick and mud homes...the perimeter of each home encased by a mud and brick privacy wall. Huge industrial lots filled with cargo containers stacked upon cargo containers. Then, as the jet engines revved and the landing gear dropped, we could see, sitting in a haloed cloud of dust and exhaust fumes, the center of Kabul.
And it was beautiful.
Like everyone else I know who has visited Kabul, I fell in love with this place when I came here a year ago in April with a team of men from Flatirons. It is a noisy, frenetic, busy place clogged with trucks and cars and boys on bicycles. The streets are lined with men in shop doorways...and women covered in burkas...and children running, dodging the traffic...and soldiers at checkpoints. As we dart back and forth through the (insanely hard to describe) rush hour traffic we can see stores and shops and businesses that seem to repeat themselves again and again: a produce stand, a naan bakery, a butcher, a rug dealer, a parts shop, a produce stand, a butcher, a naan bakery...and so on.
We were warmly greeted at the guest house (our home for the next several days) by our friends--the staff from our partner, based in Kabul. It was a time (for some of us) to get reacquainted with our old friends...and a time (for others) to meet these amazing people and start relationships that with leave indelible marks on their hearts and souls...the same way our hearts have been marked.
Then we ate...and we ate...and we ate because they feed us (and treat us) like kings here.
After a sound night's sleep, we spent the morning in discussion, and debrief, and in devotion. We're going to look at the life of Abraham on this trip--a man called "God's Friend" and a main character in the story of the three main religions of the world: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Then, we ate...again before heading out to the little village of Barek Aub, a community of displaced Afghans that Flatirons has been trying to support and help for over 7 years. As we made the hour drive from Kabul to Barek Aub, I was struck by the amount of dust everywhere. It hung in the air all the way from Kabul out to the tiny community of Barek Aub.
Dust. Dust everywhere, reminding me of what the world was like when Jesus walked it. It had to be worse back then. Walking everywhere. Heads, beards, feet...covered in dust and dirt. Feet that needed to be washed...by a Savior...a lesson to be learned in what's expected as a follower of Him.
There's an old Jewish saying that goes like this, "May you be covered by the dust of your rabbi." Meaning this, may you be so closely connected and involved in the life and work of your rabbi that you are completely covered in his dust. I know that each of us on this trip wants to be as closely connected as possible to our rabbi and Savior, Jesus. Walking through Barek Aub, it's so evident that the followers of Jesus who call themselves Flatirons Community Church have had a great impact on the lives of these Afghans collected on the side of this mountain. The well. The school. The clinic. All evidence of our faith...lived out through generous giving.
But the thing that keeps gnawing at me...standing on the dusty streets of Barek Aub, driving the dusty Afghan roads, and sitting here...staring out the dust covered windows of the guest house is this: Am I covered by dust too?
And the answer hurts.
I wish I could say that the dust of Jesus covers me, but the truth is, most of the time, I'm covered in my own dust--dirt from my own selfish interests and self pursuits...more interested in my own comfort, than my character...which can only be honed by closely following Jesus.
I hope and pray that when we come home from this beautiful, dirty, dusty land...and once we've washed the dust of Afghanistan from our clothes...that each of us remains dusty and dirty...
...and that we're completely covered in the dust of our Rabbi.
Dan
Wrecked
Saturday, November 16, 2013 - Dubai, UAE
"Your second trip into Afghanistan is always the hardest."
I have heard this over and over again as our 2013 Flatirons Men's Team has prepared for the trip to visit our partner in Kabul. I know these aren't empty words because the warnings have come from people I love and trust...people who have made multiple trips into this beautiful, exotic part of the world...and people who know firsthand what to expect.
So, I know this has to be true.
Even so, I don't know what really to do with this...or how to prepare for its inevitable reality. I guess it's going to be a hard trip. Period.
Still, it feels very much like the last trip I took here:
The packing...
The re-packing...
The sudden realization that I forgot something (at least THIS time it wasn't my underwear!)...
The multiple flights and connections...and the seemingly endless lines of customs and security...where I have quickly learned that humorless, bureaucratic, desk jockies are all the same whether they're in the good, old U.S. of A. or on foreign soil.
But the main thing that feels the most familiar about this trip to Afghanistan is that I am (once again) joined by another great group of guys from Flatirons Community Church...and partnered up to lead again with my good friend Bob Tunnell -- one of the kindest, most generous men I've ever come across.
I don't know why the second time around in Afghanistan is so hard on folks. I've heard it explained this way; it has to do with the eventual comparison with your first, life-altering trip here. One good friend told me, "In your second trip, you experience a whole new level of Afghanistan, one that was almost hidden your first go-around. The first time, you're taking everything in, but the second time, you're seeing smaller details...and it wrecks you."
This surprises me because I feel like my first trip here wrecked me. When I came home from Kabul a year and a half ago from our 2012 Men's Team trip, I was dazed...amazed...confused...in awe...and anxious to return.
Now, laying here in our hotel in Dubai...I am anxiously waiting to get on the plane for Kabul tomorrow to get "wrecked" again. I can't wait to re-connect with our friends in Afghanistan...to eat with them...to laugh together...to share...and to continue the hard work of building a bridge of relationship; a bridge between the hopeless...and the hopeful.
Whatever happens on this trip...on this team...and in Afghanistan over the next several days, I pray that God will bless it...use it...and wreck us all...for His glory.
Dan
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