Chapter 56 - Finding My Tribe

I am sipping mild roast coffee at Panera, munching on a blueberry scone. Gazing out the window where Pikes Peak gleams snowy in the distance. Nearby trees flicker gold and red in the frosty air…a time for musing.

Our home is up for sale again. This restlessness in me surfaces every two to five years. We move, Larry rebuilds or remodels in the Colorado Springs area, and often we find a better view of the mountains. We decorate, innovate…rough sawn pine boards on a wall or ceiling, a window seat added to the master suite dormer view. And we are better better able to support mission workers, and periodically take a missions/teaching trip ourselves. Through the years since returning from Cairo in 2006, we’ve travelled back to Malaysia, India, and Indonesia several times—even to Kyrgyzstan once. We have renewed relationships, forged new ones, taught in many classrooms.

I question this rootlessness, this frequent replanting. Though we mostly have stayed at the same church, keep close contact with family and friends--why do I need geographic change?

I read in “Notes from a Travelling Childhood” about global nomads. “The lack of a sense of rootedness can result in a migratory lifestyle that has a significant impact on the global nomad’s academic career, life work, and family life. Mobility itself is not the problem; it is the inner drive to be in constant motion that may be disruptive and sometimes, destructive. The delicate root system of the global nomad’s life—based on relationships, not geography—needs to be tended,” (p.73)

From the 6th grade on I travelled between home and boarding school twice a year—always on plane rides! Then in the States after a senior year in high school in Livonia, Michigan, there were moves from Bible college, nurses training, and on to pastoring in Minnesota. Always launching forward into (hopefully) a higher calling. And always a change of scenery, new geography.

My sense of identity is somewhat restored when we return to Asia to teach, deepen friendships, pray together. The body of Christ is global…roots of me are planted around the world. I feel renewed through each trip. But I have questioned how effective Larry and I are in short-term missions. My parents invested almost forty years of their lives to reach the Moni and Dani tribes in Papua, Indonesia. The Western Danis have the whole Bible in their language because my dad and others on the linguistic team translated it. And my Mom painstakingly taught the Danis to read.

One evening in prayer the Lord highlighted a verse from Isaiah 27:6 to me: “He shall cause those who come of Jacob to take root; Israel shall blossom and bud, and fill the face of the world with fruit.”

“That’s what I’m doing with you and Larry,” God told me quietly. “You have discipled and prayed for people all over the world. You are like a plant with branches that has taproots, penetrating far places. You give out My word, others blossom and bud, and their fruit is the result of your ministry.”

I reflected on my years of nursing in Minneapolis, witnessing in Alaska, and caring for people at Ebro Community Church in northern Minnesota. After marrying Larry there were ten years of discipling single parents, then planting the base in Penang and teaching Asians on missions trips. Then after years of prayer and ministry at New Life Church in Colorado Springs, there were more years of teaching in India and Cairo.

“These are your tribe,” the Lord emphasized. “They have taken root are filling the face of the earth with fruit. Some people are given the gift to minister in one place. Others like Priscilla and Aquilla, Apollos, and Philip minister in a number of locations. I give each member of My body a different gift and grace. Receive your calling. Embrace it!”

“Thank you, Lord,” I whispered. “I’m grateful. Help me to keep seeing this clearly.”

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Later I recalled three occasions that highlighted the Lord’s insight to me. First was a time in Minnesota when Ken and Debbie Petersen hosted a gathering of the Group, the former single parents from Souls Harbor. They were grandparents by now, and after pastoring for years Ken was now overseeing the multi campus Union Gospel Mission in St. Paul.

After a meal we sat in a circle in their verdant backyard. Ken turned. “We’re so grateful for the years you invested in us. I don’t know where some of us would be if we hadn’t had the fellowship and teaching as single parents.” He squeezed Debbie’s hand.

“Yes, those were some of my darkest days,” Debbie added. “We had the group, and then the Lord put me and Ken together! It’s too bad Ken and Patty Freeman couldn’t be here now—are they still living in Colorado Springs near you guys, still in Youth with a Mission?”

“Yes,” I answered. “So we see them often. But Sharon Madigan and Joanne Holley we haven’t seen in years. Or Bernita, either. Hard to believe all their children are grown up and have kids of their own!”

“Ty and Julie, are you still in ministry at Brian and Jacque’s church?”

“We are. God has been so good to us and our kids,” Ty responded. We sat in the large circle reminiscing till dark and went inside to worship and pray.

That weekend we met with others from the Group. We taught at Mark and Shirley’s church, and Lucy Melena joined us, beaming with joy. She was still the adrenaline quickening, who livened up a meeting.

The second occasion was while visiting Colin and Jo White in London as we returned from teaching in Asia. Sitting in their spacious living room by the fire, we remembered the 1992 DTS in Penang where they were students. “Do you keep in close contact with Dass and Rani?” I queried. I understand you supported them, brought them to speak in churches here in England.

“Yes,” Jo answered. “We even had a holiday with them at the Red Sea when they led the work in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Now they’re back in Penang leading the YWAM work, and their children attend Dalat School.”

“It’s wonderful how your long-term support has helped them carry out their calling,” I commented.

“Yes, each part of the Body contributes its part so the lost can be reached!” Larry added.

“You mean all of my realtor’s work counts in the Kingdom,” Colin laughs.

“Yes, and my labors of building too,” Larry smiles.

The third incident confirming this calling came from a voice I didn’t recognize. “This is Mary….Mary Lamb,” the person said. “Do you remember me? I used to babysit Nicky when you were married to Zach.”

“Mary!” I exclaimed. “Of course I remember you! You were the pretty twelve-year-old Ojibwe girl with long black hair. So helpful and caring. How did you get my number?”

“Through Facebook, contacting Zach and then Nick.”

“I’m amazed…how are you!?"

“Doing pretty good, living in Thief River Falls, Minnesota with my sister. I work in accounting at a casino. I still read the Bible and try to get to church sometimes.”

“Well, great!”

“Years ago, when you went through the divorce, I felt so bad. I’ve thought about you often, so decided to try and look you up.

“I’m glad you did! Do you have children?”

“I have one daughter Toni, but she doesn’t live near me. Her dad and I are divorced. I’m planning to move to the Twin Cities and train to be an electrician.”

“I’ll pray it will work out,” We shared for a long time. “I’ll visit you when we next come to Minnesota, Mary. I’m so happy we could connect! I’ll call you next time…we’ll keep in touch.”

“Thanks,” Mary replied. “Keep praying for me.”

My tribe, amazingly, was found all over the world, wherever I’d been planted. As Larry and I reached out to others in love, they in turn were strengthened to reach out further. That’s the way the gospel takes root, fills the face of the world with fruit! Till every tribe hears.

And Jesus comes.

Amen.