Real Men Do Dishes

Last weekend a bunch of the men from Flatirons went up to Crooked Creek to serve the ladies at Women's Retreat. My good buddy (and Christian counselor) Dave Garrison joined them and he cameback down the mountain with more than dishpan hands...he came home with the following insight. Enjoy!

-- Dan Foote

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When was the last time you got a standing ovation from your wife…or from 300 other women?

 

That’s what happened at Barbie Boot Camp (the Flatirons Women’s Retreat) this past weekend. A small army of 40 Flatirons Men committed themselves to cooking, serving, and doing dishes for the women at the women’s retreat. At breakfast on Sunday, all the men were brought out and the women expressed their gratitude through applause, whistles and smiles. 

Embarrassing, humbling….but still pretty cool to be on the receiving end of their appreciation.

                                            (Retreat volunteer and busboy Robb Paolasso)

Oh, to get that level of appreciation from your wife or girlfriend!  What a game changer that can be. And I guess that’s the lesson: men have to serve first.

The men up at the women’s retreat made the food, served the food and cleaned up afterwards….not expect anything from the women. There was no “Hey, let’s make a deal, I’ll cook and do dishes if you’ll _________.”(Fill in your own blank). There was no score keeping: “Hey, I served you, now it’s your turn to serve me”. The mentality of the men was simple: “We’re here to serve you. Nothing expected in return”. 

The Bible is pretty clear about this too. It says “Husbands love your wives as Christ loves the church” (Ephesians 5:25).  It doesn’t say “Husbands love your wives as long as she does for you in return”.  In the book of Mark Jesus said, “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all…” (Mark 9:35). Jesus goes on and speaks of Himself saying, “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve…” (Mark 10:45)

Making a commitment to serve the women in your life, by doing some cooking, cleaning or helping out around the house may not get you a standing O, but maybe the little smile on her face…and a greater sense of appreciation might just be enough. 

(A special shout out to my fellow Pit Crew members:  Jim, David, Austin, and Ewing)

– Dave Garrison

Land of Paradoxes

Flatirons Men's Afghanistan Trip

Day Eleven - Tuesday, May 1, 2012

So here we are, our last day in Afghanistan...for the time being. I plan to return again someday and I know the other guys on the team feel the same. We sat around the breakfast table drinking coffee and talking long before the food ever arrived. Bart Lillie opened up and shared a particularly rough time he and his family endured several years back -- and how God brought them through it. It was, once again, another powerful moment of vulnerability and acceptance -- something that's has bonded this team from the get-go.

Packed and loaded, we made the cacophonous and chaotic trip to the airport. Once inside the terminal, after multiple security and passport checks, Bob said it was the smoothest he's ever had on the team's he's led. Still, the last security check in Kabul (which included an extensive pat-down from a guard in rubber gloves) was the most up-close-and-personal inspection I've had from another man since my 50 year checkup.

Sitting in the terminal I was consumed by something one of the ex pat staffers said on our first day upon arriving in Kabul. She said, "Afghanistan is a land of paradoxes." And she's right. I sat at the gate, waiting to board our flight to Dubai, and ran through a bunch of the paradoxes in my head like you scan through a rolodex.

- Afghanistan appears to be a place so foreign and exotic, yet we learned it can be as familiar as your own hometown or backyard.

- To the outsider, the traffic in Kabul appears to be this crazy, disorganized jumble of a mess, but instead, it really has its own rhythm and routine.

- Afghanistan's a place that appears to be filled with suspicion and closed-mindedness, but we found nothing but openness and acceptance.

It was one paradox after another. But as I type this, 29,000 feet in the air, headed for Dubai (and eventually back to home), the biggest paradox I've found is this: I might look like the same man who came to Afghanistan 10 days ago, but I'm not. I am different. Afghanistan has changed me. I guess that's what happens when you leave a part of who you are in the Land of Paradoxes. And so I will miss it until I return.

Til that day. Thanks for reading.

-- Dan

Day 10: Best Day Ever

Flatirons Men's Afghanistan Trip Day Ten - Monday, April 30, 2012

Can't believe we're already down to our last 2 days in Afghanistan. I know it will take weeks...months...a lifetime...to process what we've experienced here. What I do know for sure is this...and I can confidently speak for our team; we have fallen in love with the land of Afghanistan and its people. Our hearts have been opened, and broken, and filled up again by what we've seen here...and what we see God doing here. We finally get it now...we see why everyone comes home from this place different...and we see why everyone wants to come back, again and again.

But today was the clincher. Our trip to Istalif. Istalif is a little town north of Kabul that was decimated by the Taliban, and one of the first places to receive relief from out missions partner. The drive out to Istalif was slightly different than what we'd experienced so far -- in regards to scenery. We drove through an area we had only seen from a distance. The surrounding hills of Kabul are littered with the hand built brick and mortar homes that distinctively mark this entire region. These earthen colored, boxy homes seem to be stacked, one upon the other, stretching up the hillsides, until (as if held down by gravity) they finally peter out...to leave the hilltops exposed. Driving along the base of these neighborhoods, we see the Afghans who live here up close. There are literally hundreds of people hauling bricks, produce, and other wares in carts by donkey...or going to-and-from school...or sitting on their haunches in clumps...talking animately to each other. It's as rugged, and exotic and as beautiful as the rest of Kabul. But then there's Istalif. Where Barak Aub is a community sitting in a barren, dry expanse of a valley at the base of a mountain, Istalif is a rich, green, verdant village that sprawls out, and winds through the mountain base just north and across the valley from Barak Aub. If I thought the architecture and construction leading to Barak Aub looked like something from the Bible times, Istalif was that...only a thousand more. To say this place is "scenic" is like saying the Rockies are big -- it's great understatement. There are houses and neighborhoods leading to the center of Istalif that are lined with vineyards -- vineyards that were scorched and burned by the Taliban years ago, but are bursting out and coming back to life. "Life"...life is the best word to describe this place. It's bursting with life. Lush and green and screaming with new life.

After a visit to the clinic, and a meeting with some of the local leaders, we grouped together to eat lunch at the river that is formed by the streams that cascade off the mountain peaks. OH. MY. GOSH. I am NOT exaggerating. It was one of the best meals I have EVER eaten! And I've had some great meals in my time...just look at my waistline and cholesterol levels. We sat down on a large mat under (what looked like) a blossoming lilac tree and were served kabobs -- cooked fresh from a kabob vendor a stone's throw from where we were resting...at the river's edge. We were first served fresh, warm naan (the traditional bread) and then came the kabobs -- lamb, hot off the grill. My mouth is watering just typing this. We were joined by the governor of Istalif -- which is commonplace when you travel with our host. This man knows everyone! Everywhere we go, he is either cornered or greeted by Afghans... governors...elders...leaders...street vendors...everyone. He seems to know almost everyone in Afghanistan. Shortly after the governor squeezed in and joined us on the mat, the kabobs came, skewered on long metal rods, arrayed like this: meat, fat cube, meat, fat cube, meat. For those of us who are health conscious and trying to clean up our dietary acts...caution was thrown to the wind. We gorged like ancient kings...eating with our hands...ripping naan by the fistful...gnawing on roasted lamb and lamb fat...with the juices dripping from our bearded chins. It was amazing! Could it get any better? We ate and ate until we couldn't eat anymore. I confess...I sinned. I was a glutton. Then, with bellies full, and after Bob and John relieved themselves on a stone wall (we have the pictures), we visited the marketplace, then headed back to Kabul.

Teammate Jase Smith coined this phrase on our first day in Afghanistan. I asked the guys during our first morning devotional time what they expected from the day. When we got around to Jase (a man of few words, but when they come, they are either profound or hilarious), he said, "I don't know what to expect, but I know it will be the best day ever." We all cracked up. It was profound AND hilarious! And that's what Istalif was: the best day ever. On the ride back home I was overcome with this one thought: I love this place...and I love these people...and I pray that all of Afghanistan will one day experience the healing and renewal we saw in Istalif...and that everyday will be "The best day ever."

-- Dan

Day 8: Foundation

Flatirons Men's Afghanistan Trip Day Eight - Sunday, April 29, 2012

I can't even count how many times I've heard the word foundation or foundational used in the business, ethical and cultural worlds. "This is foundational to our marketing strategy" or "The very foundation of our beliefs is centered on (fill in the blank)". But rarely do I get to hear stuff like, "We've got to frame this out so that we can pour the foundation." Today we headed back out to Barak Aub for a second visit to do just that; work on a foundation. There is a widow in the Barak Aub community who is having a house built for her (Thanks, in part, to Flatirons) and we were hoping to get the chance to help a little.

It was a beautiful, clear day as we made the 45 minute trip out of Kabul. Now, I have the directional capabilities of a blind flea, but some of the routes we've been taking are even becoming familiar to me. I can almost find our way back to the guest house, once we're within spitting distance, "Oh yeah...I know! We turn here at the disemboweled sheep shop...then turn left at the rug shop with the armed guard out front!" The men at Barak Aub were already at work when we arrived. In short order, the team was given directives, handed rubber dishwashing gloves, and put to work moving rocks. The foundations on the homes in this little community are all laid the same way -- the way they've been laid for centuries. Large, granite rocks are fitted into a pre-dug trench on the outside and inside parts of the trench, then smaller bits-and-pieces of rock are used to fill the center...in between the larger bordering rocks. Steve Yeager was our eyes and ears on the actual building of the foundation. We needed someone to REALLY learn how this is done because our hope is to come back to Colorado and build a fire pit at the church, using the same technique, in an effort to honor our friends at Barak Aub. So while Steve worked with the foundation masons, the rest of us worked on strengthening our lower backs. We spent the better part of the morning moving rocks and boulders to several designated areas at the building site. It was fun...hauling rocks with the locals...wearing pink rubber gloves...silently communicating with the men (and boys) at Barak Aub...connecting through work and laughter.

The biggest takeaway for me all morning came during our tea break. You always have to break for tea and biscuits at the worksite. While we sipped chai tea, I walked over to observe the building of the foundation. I was struck by the sight of this one little boy. He couldn't be any older than 4 years. He wore a corduroy clothe winter jacket, pants, sandals, and his little head was topped off by a dusty, red cap. He reminded me so much of my own son, Ben, at that age. This little boy was diligently working side-by-side with the other two Afghan men working the foundation. He would look over and judge the size of rock needed, then trot over to a rock pile (a pile we had made), find the right sized rock, then bring it back...and the man would put it into place. Perfect! Standing in this biblical-like land, I watched and wondered if this was what it looked like for Jesus, when he was learning the tools of the carpenter trade from His earthly father, Joseph. This little boy was obviously welcomed at the site -- and even a help. I couldn't tell if either of the men was the little boy's father or not...and it didn't matter. Either way, he was learning something...something foundational...in the metaphorical sense. He was learning how to help...how to be a productive part of his society...and that he mattered...no matter how young or old he was. He mattered to these men and to his village. And that's a foundation that will last long after these rocks crumble and become part of history again.

Our team ended our last day in Barak Aub meeting with a few of the elders from the community. We listened to them, and watched their body language, as they shared their recent struggles and need for more assistance. We all felt helpless, listening to the two main elders talk about their plight. Leaving Barak Aub left the team more than a little somber. When (if ever) will we be back here again? And how will these people fare between now and when we get back. This is where faith has to hold true. God has this in control every bit as much as He does our lives back in Colorado.

The night ended with a special trip to Camp Eggers -- a military installation in the heart of Kabul. Our host was able to get us clearance so that we could join the troops for evening church. We were dropped off at the street and began the long walk through several different security checks. The street was a chasm bordered by high cement walls topped with razor wire. Concrete barriers and armed guards are scattered along the long walk to Camp Eggers entrance. Once we had cleared security, we were escorted by one of the soldiers to the camp church tent. Inside, we joined the troops, sitting in metal folding chairs, singing praise songs to a band made up almost exclusively of soldiers at Eggers. I sat next to one of the largest men I have ever seen. He was a sergeant from North Carolina who stood at 6'8", but looked like he was every bit of 8 feet! And he had the voice of an angel. I know Jim Burgen would love this church. It's the only time I went to church and people laid their automatic weapons on the floor to worship! The "congregation" said goodbye to one of the officers heading home after a year away from home. He shared with the group that he was going home to his wife and four kids -- the youngest being a year old. I don't know how they do it. I've been away from home a total of 8 days and I'm already counting down the hours to see my wife Amy and the rest of the family. This guy's been away from home for a year. He's missed all that stuff you miss when your kids morph through that first year. It made my heart ache.

My heart has ached a lot since landing in Kabul over a week ago. It ached at the school. It ached in Barak Aub. It ached at Camp Eggers. And I know the biggest ache is still to come; when we load up to leave on Tuesday.

-- Dan

Day 7: Stop

Flatirons Men's Afghanistan Trip Day Seven - Saturday, April 28, 2012

This was one day I had been looking forward to for a long time -- visiting Barak Aub. I first learned of Barak Aub three years ago, while living in Texas, after watching Jim Burgen's message online. It was the weekend an Afghan rug was laid on the stage and God used the community of Flatirons to re-chart the destiny of a group of Afghan refugees huddled on the side of a mountain, in this region called Barak Aub...or "Broken Water". The rest of the team was the same. Other than our team leader, Bob Tunnell, this was everyone's first time at this community. We have all heard about it...heard from others who had been there...seen the pictures they had taken...but now...we were going to see it for ourselves.

The anticipation was palpable during our devotional time and during breakfast. When our host stepped into the dining room and said, "Okay guys! Let's go!" we were in the cars and ready to caravan out to Barak Aub before he could say, "Me Too." I lucked out and got shotgun when we loaded up in the SUV driven by the new executive director for our mission partner. The new ED confessed that his Afghan driving skills may be a little rusty, but 10 minutes into our journey...he was bobbing, weaving, swerving and honking like a national. He was also a great tour guide. The new ED is an ex pat who has worked for several different mission groups -- in Afghanistan and Pakistan and has returned to Kabul after a 7 year absence. He was here during the Taliban days and has witnessed (by his own admission) many, many changes since he lived here last and found it a little difficult to navigate the streets and get his bearings due to the changes and development.

As we made our way through the dusty city and out into the country, we were really able to see the progress and rebuilding that is going on in Kabul. The streets are lined with countless (and I really mean, countless) little shops and merchant wagons, side-by-side, peddling everything from meat and produce...to copper wire and bricks. We couldn't get over all the dead animals hanging in the windows. Goats...Chickens..Entrails. It reminded me of pictures I've seen in history books of New York City at the turn of the century. And the people! There are Afghans everywhere! In cars...on bikes...on motorcycles or just walking, weaving their way through the maze and chaos of the morning traffic. Young. Old. Poor. Rich. We could see them all from the windows of our caravan heading to Barak Aub. The Afghans are a beautiful people. Dark, proud and well-kept...especially in light of the destruction and bleak conditions of lot of them live in. Even the ones on the street begging take care of themselves. Most of which have been women, dressed in traditional Kabul light-blue burkas -- covering them completely. You can't see any part of their faces, and only a fabric screen allows the women to see and breathe through. I can't help it. It's a haunting sight. No face. No eyes. The only part of their body exposed is the women's' feet and hands -- one hand out-stretched asking for money...the other holding a baby...always around the age of 8-9 months. Seriously! It's the same all over the city. Light-blue burka wearing women, each holding a baby, hands reaching out and saying, "Please. Mister." It's been one of the hardest things for each of us to process.

Once out of the city, the dust started to settle (a little) and the Hindu Kush mountain range started appearing, almost as if out of a fog. And they are huge! Long's Peak would be dwarfed by the massive heights that stretch across this horizon. The road out to Barak Aub is peppered with open, barren expanses, military installations (with high brick walls topped in razor wire) and shepherds. Yes! Shepherds. There is something Old Testament and biblical feeling about this area. You can easily imagine Abraham and Isaac walking across these plains, coaxing their herds to the spotty patches of vegetation seen dotting the hillsides...if it weren't for the occasional semi tractor trailer broken down on the side of the road or ubiquitous motorcycles...driven by turban-wearing Afghans.

After a good half hour of driving though this part of the country, the new ED turned to us and said, "Here it is, up ahead." all of us craned to see out our respective windows. Up ahead was Barak Aub -- this community that has been so much at the heart of Flatirons and our missions outreach. We could see the low-lying valley filled with little brick homes enclosed by little brick walls. Again, like something out of bible times. I immediately recognized a couple of buildings: the school and the clinic. I have had pictures of these two buildings in my office since I was first asked to co-lead this trip. Our caravan came to a stop within the walls of the school and we were immediately met and surrounded by the locals -- consisting of elders, children and school officials. We were invited into the boys school to help pass out care packages that had been put together by the ladies team before us. Each guy on the team took turns passing out the bags to the students and the looks on the little boys faces ranged from wonderment to outright fear. What must that have been like for those little guys? Sitting in the classroom, doing their A,B,C's...then in walks 10 smiling white dudes...in beards and shalwar kameez...passing out goody bags. The alarms had to be going off! "Stranger danger! Stranger danger!" We spent the rest of the morning visiting the girls' school and the clinic - the only medical facility in the entire valley. It was all a blur. Again, sensory overload.

Clarity came when the assistant director, a handsome...almost regal...Afghan gentlemen in his late 50s stood to talk. We gathered around him and listened to him tell his story...and how the community at Barak Aub came to be. It starts with the assistant director and his trip back to Kabul after visiting his family -- just over the hill from where we were standing. He spoke of driving past this valley on his way back to Kabul and seeing a handful of plastic tents scattered across the valley. And what did he do? He stopped. He stopped and asked what was going on...only to learn that these refugees had been dumped on the side of this barren hillside by the government in Kabul to fend for themselves.

What happened next a lot of us know: our missions partner was informed, people were rallied, support was given, wells we're dug, schools were built and clinics were opened. And why? All because one man stopped. We have a great story like this that Jesus gave us. It's a parable called: The Good Samaritan. Most of us know it...about this Jewish guy who gets beat up and left for dead on the side of a mountain. First, a priest walks by...and does nothing. Next, a temple leader. Nothing. Then, a Samaritan, the sworn enemy of most Jewish people, and what does he do? He stops. The world changes when we stop. God does some awesome stuff when we stop. And all it takes is one of us...just one of us to stop and do something. It took this one stoically handsome Afghan gentlemen to stop...and the world is not the same. It's not same for those refugees...it's not the same for Afghanistan...it's not the same for our missions partner...and it's not the same for Flatirons. The real question for me is this: Is it the same for me...and am I going to be the kind of man who stops?

-- Dan

Day 6: Little Church...Little Stars

Flatirons Men's Afghanistan Trip Day Six - Friday, April 27, 2012

TGIF. For real. Friday in Afghanistan (and for Muslims) is the sabbath. Afghans take the day off to spend time with family and go to the mosque. So, since this is their holy day, the rest of the ex pats on our mission partners staff have church on Friday too. It's their Sunday-Go-To-Meetin' Day. There was talk of going to a fellowship hall to join some of the other Christian ex pats (They call it Big Church), but our host thought it best to stay put. It was Victory Day here (The day Afghans celebrate their overthrow of the Soviets) and the streets were going to be packed with celebrants. So, we were going to have the privilege of doing church at the guest house (They call that Little Church).

We began the day like we have each morning here at the guest house with that day's devotional through Nehemiah. Peter, Jase, John, Kyle and I were already up and in deep in conversation by the time the other guys came into the living room at 6:30 AM. This has been the trend since we've been here. The attendance changes each morning, but the result is the same: a group of us sits in the living room, drinking strong coffee (or tea) delving into some deep (and some not-so-deep) topics. It's been a great way to connect with each other and learn what makes each other tick. Topics have varied from 5 Point Calvinism, the interpretation of end times scripture, and the challenges of being a believer in this country...to Best Guy Movies, favorite beers, and funniest Family Guy episodes ("Fabulous!"). It really depends on how many cups of coffee we've consumed. The devotion time today was different though. John Waters said it first, and Steve Yeager echoed his sentiment: The Friday's scripture and devotion was extra heavy. It was from Nehemiah 4, where the Israelites deal with oppression and are attacked at every turn. It created a lot of discussion and we had been at it for 45 min. when the staff cook waved us in for breakfast. We really weren't done yet, but we had to end the devotional time...or so I thought.

We quickly ate breakfast and before long, we were deep into another devotional time -- this one completely unplanned. I really can't detail what went on around the breakfast table without breaking confidences, but it was powerful! It was the most honest, vulnerable time we have had as a team. An hour into it...I just silently thanked God for what was happening...for orchestrating everything...for picking our team...for His perfect timing...and the powerful work He was doing in the hearts and lives of each of us...each broken, faulted children of God. There was great laughter and a few tears in the arc of our time together and we ended it in prayer. Oh man! It was already a heart-wrencher...and we hadn't even started Little Church yet!

The new director for our mission partner led Little Church. We held it right around the breakfast table. I have to admit, it felt more than a little awkward when we first started. No one there could play guitar, so we sang along to some praise music played through an iPod stereo system. Weird at first...but slowly...it seemed like the most natural thing to do. People took turns sharing scriptures or prayers in between the songs and it was amazing the way each verse or prayer was the perfect word or sentiment for the moment.

We can read in the Bible, in the book of Acts, about what it was like for the early church; meeting in secrecy, under great suspicion and oppression. The first church consisted of followers holding up in secret all over the region in various towns and cities where Christianity first started to spread. These early believers...these followers of Jesus...were like little lights scattered all over the known world...like stars in the night sky. Today, sitting around that table, awkwardly singing praise songs to a portable stereo, sharing the power of God's word, and feeling His presence in our prayer time as if He was sitting their with us...filling the room. It was what it must have been like for Peter, John, Philip and the rest of those early believers. And it was equally moving to think that there might be other believers doing the same thing...praising the same God...chasing after the same Jesus...other stars...other lights in the night sky of Afghanistan. All hanging by faith to the hope that one day... morning will come...and the sun will rise.

"When it is dark enough, you can see the stars." (Persian Proverb)

-- Dan

Day 5: Steps Ahead

Flatirons Men's Afghanistan Trip Day Five - Thursday, April 26, 2012

Why am I constantly selling God short? Why am I forever doubting that He has things completely under control...and is 10...20...3,000,000 steps ahead of me?

When our team met, very early on in the process, I told our fearless leader, Bob Tunnell, that I would take care of the devotional piece of our trip to Afghanistan. I remembered leading our adult Bible study class through the book of Nehemiah back in Texas -- while we were in the middle of a serious church mess and trying to rebuild after a split.

And God was way ahead of me.

The story of Nehemiah seemed fitting for our mission trip -- a great epic tale centered around restoration and renewal. But even though this happened more than 6 months before we made it over here...the "tyranny of the urgent" kept me from actually putting this devotional together. And I have to admit here, as our trip neared, and my schedule got even crazier, I seriously thought of opting out of preparing the Nehemiah devotions. I kept thinking, "Would it REALLY matter if we don't do it?" But as Monday, April 26th rolled around (5 days before departure), I felt God really urging me to prepare the devotions...so I chucked my Monday schedule out the window and wrote devotionals, printed out 9 copies and put them in binders -- one for each guy on the team. And some more honesty...doing this was nothing more than checking something off my to-do list.

Still...God was way ahead of me.

Fast forward to Thursday, April 26th. As the team gathered for our morning devotions, there was universal agreement that the Nehemiah story was perfect for what we've been experiencing in Kabul. The parallels between Nehemiah's story and what we were seeing in Afghanistan was stark: One, a displaced Jewish exile rebuilding from the ruins of Jerusalem. The other... countless Afghans trying to rise up from the ruins of their country. And I thought, "This is cool! I'm glad we were going through Nehemiah...for our sakes."

But God was still way ahead of me.

One of our main goals in coming here was to speak, as leaders, to the staff of our missions partner here in Afghanistan -- all of whom are Afghans. We knew they wanted to speak to what it's like to be leaders in America. As we prepped and prepared (as much as we could), I was fully planning to talk about being a servant leader -- which we can see in the Bible.

And there was God...way ahead of me.

We were late for the meeting, due to a delay at one of our off-site excursions and we tip-toed into the conference room...trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Shortly after settling in, the staff member who had been taking the meeting notes on a flip chart turned to us and said, "Well, the men are here. I'm done!" and she left. Bart Lillie leaned and whispered, "You need to go take the notes." I looked at him like, "Why me? Why don't you?" I looked at our team...I was closest to the marker and flip chart. It was enlistment by proximity. So I stood up and Bart whispered, "Talk about Nehemiah." That threw me off. Nehemiah? I quickly grabbed the marker and dumbly stood by the flip chart. I glanced at the notes already written on the chart. I saw "servant leader", "honesty"' "open communication" written in blue marker. And as I read this, I heard our host say, "This is Dan" followed by a bunch if stuff in Dari. All eyes turned to me and my heart started racing. I WASN'T READY! What was he doing? I had a brain fart.

And then...God backed up and stood beside me.

All I can say about what happened next was, it was all God...laying the ground work years and years in advance. My heart settled and I shared with the staff the story of Nehemiah and his role as a servant leader, his example of honesty and open communication...it was as if this moment had been preordained, way in advance...which of course it had been. After that, Bob, John, Bart, Jase and Mike all shared their stories on leadership -- each one sharing how God had orchestrated their lives to become the leaders they are today. And why? Because God was way ahead of them, too.

Please understand, this is not about me or about the guys on the team. This is all about God and His "advance team". I only share this because it was humbling and amazing for the whole team to experience this moment. We all recognized...the pieces that had fallen into place, including our devotional time...the focus on Nehemiah...the lessons we had been pulling from our time together. It all led to that meeting with this staff in Afghanistan. And we don't know what God is going to do with our time here. Our faith and trust is that something good will come out of it...and I know (now, more than ever) that it's not my job to figure it out.

God is already 10...20...3,000,000 steps ahead of us all.

-- Dan