The other night I was walking through the red light district, and a group of men had crowded around the side of a building. When I got closer, I saw what had gotten their attention. They were gawking and gaping, eyes full of lust, as they watched a prostitute put on a show for them.

People ask me what the red light district is like, and I tell them that in many ways, it´s like the zoo.

People walk around to look at the animals, except in this case instead of monkeys, elephants or lions, it is human beings that we have turned into animals.

Josh Harris:

I’m reading Arnold Dallimore’s two-volume biography of George Whitefield, the great evangelist of the 18th century revival. I was deeply stirred by a paragraph in one of the opening chapters in which Dallimore shares that the “mission” of the book is driven by the profound conviction that the great need of our day is to see “a mighty evangelical revival such as that which was experienced two hundred years ago” and the prayer that God will “raise up unto Himself certain young men whom He may use in this glorious employ.” He continues with these words:

“And what manner of men will they be? Men mighty in the Scriptures, their lives dominated by a sense of the greatness, the majesty and holiness of God, and their minds and hearts aglow with the great truths of the doctrine of grace. They will be men who have learned what it is to die to self, to human aims and personal ambitions; men who are willing to be ‘fools for Christ’s sake’, who will be reproach and falsehood, who will labour and suffer, and whose supreme desire will be, not to gain earth’s accolades, but to win the Master’s approbation when they appear before His awesome judgment seat. They will be men who will preach with broken hearts and tear-filled eyes, and upon whose ministries God will grant and extraordinary effusion of the Holy Spirit, and who will witness ‘signs and wonders following’ in the transformation of multitudes of human lives.” (page 16)

I am praying for myself, for the men of my church and for fellow-pastors across the country that God will make us men like this.

Is that Spanish for library? Nope. Dutch? Yes. 

There’s a group of five teenage boys playing videogames in the computers next to mine.

When I realized what they were doing I thought, “These guys are such nerds using the library to play videogames.”

But then I remembered that I once spent 24 hours straight fighting the horde in Alterac Valley. That I once devoted a summer to becoming force sensitive. That I’ve spent numerous days in a tiny room with others trying to beat a level, or kill a boss, or get a cool sword. And that I once was part of a team that had scheduled practices and matches each week.

And that it wasn’t a soccer or football team, but a team of Allied soldiers killing nazis in a virtual world.

And when I had remembered all this, I logged onto my level 100 rune-armored Paladin and pwned them all.

Such nerds…

Before I left to go to Uganda I asked people who had been there before if they had any advice to someone traveling there, and the one piece that kept coming to me time and time again was that I should be flexible.

Be flexible.

If you’re told that you will spend the day at a school teaching kids about hygiene don’t be surprised if you find yourself at a hospital praying over patients. The culture of Uganda doesn’t emphasize strictness of time, and their transportation is more unreliable than that friend who always promises to be there, but never shows.  Just about everything is uncertain in Uganda until you’ve arrived.

But there was one exception to this rule. One scheduled activity that remained constant, and it happened once a week every Friday morning.

Lira Babies Home.

Every Friday the team and I would pile into our 16 passenger van and drive through the town of Lira and out the other side so that we could spend time at the babies home. It was an orphanage ran by a nun called Sister Francis, that oversaw the caretaking of many, many babies. These little human beings had been orphaned for a number of reasons, but had found their way to the Lira Babies Home because they all shared the same characteristic.

No one wanted them.

Some of the babies had been found in the bush, fighting against the elements, abandoned to die. All had no one to take care of them. Each had come into this world, with no one to give them love. But even in a situation as hopeless as they seemed to be in, they were (Praise God!) discovered, and brought to the babies home where they could be cared for and loved on.

I wish more than anything that I could type here, and say that the babies home was a splendid enviornment for these babies to grow up in, but unfortunately it wasn’t in top shape. With around 3-5 women working, and 10+ babies to care for, these women had their hands full. Usually when we showed up (sometimes as late as 11:30AM) the babies wouldn’t have been bathed yet. They’d be in their cribs laying out flat, sopping in urine and reeking of baby poo. The women hadn’t neglected the babies, its just that when you have to cook formula, do laundry, pump water, get supplies from town, cool that one baby with the fever, mop floors, and make sure you remember to eat something yourself, you have to prioritize the errands, and sometimes that would mean placing baby bathing time after another morning errand. These women worked hard, and I was surprised that they didn’t have a nervous breakdown. Day in and day out they worked.

Life’s hard. That phrase was hammered into me over and over again while in Uganda. I saw it at the babies home, and I saw it all over Uganda. People are living life, and often barely getting by. Food is necessary, so they work for food. Water is necessary, so they work for water. So many things that I and others take for granted, these people cherish. When they pray to God thanking Him for the food He has provided, they mean it with every fiber of their being. It’s not just a habit they do before each meal. It’s a sincere time of thankfulness.

I learned many things from this experience, but these were two of the most important.

First, thank God for what He has given to you. When you have a car, a great family, and a stack of video games four feet high, it can be hard to see something as basic as water as a blessing.

But it is.

It’s a huge blessing. Thank God for all that has been given to you.

Second, God has given you much so that you can give to others. Invest in others. Lira’s Babies Home is not an isolated place. People are in need everywhere. Seek them out.

Seek Justice, encourage the oppressed.

Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow.

ISAIAH 1:17

It’s easy to forget the things that are not immediately apart of your life.

I was talking to a guy who visited Haiti recently. He was telling me how big of a mess it was over there. The people in charge were withholding aid, and the citizens were in dire need of help. Almost one year later, and things still aren’t even close to good shape.

I hadn’t thought of Haiti in some time.

There’s other places in the world, that are just like Haiti, facing terribly difficult problems. It’s overwhelming to think about all the bad things in the world.

Obviously, we can’t help every problem. There’s always going to be someone in need.

But we can help alleviate some of the pain.

That’s why it’s important that we make an intentional effort to help. We need to make these tragedies apart of our lives. That way we won’t forget.

And than we can turn a tragedy into a success.

Most days he sleeps all day long, and he lets the entire hostel know he’s sleeping with his iconic snore. Half-woodchipper, half-ambulance siren. It’s only a little annoying. This morning I walk to the sink in our room, and start brushing my teeth. In between his snores, I try to brush 4 times, but he doesn’t have perfect snoring rythym, so sometimes I only get 3 brushes in. Anyways, I’m cleaning my teeth, when I hear him gargle to life, and get out of bed. He begins to walk past me, but then hesitates and says…

Mario: Excuse me.

Me with a mouthfull of toothpaste: Yea?

Mario: Spray deodorant? Do you have?

Me: Huh?

Mario: Do you have some deodorant spray?

Me: No, I use the stick kind.

Mario: Could I use?

Me: uhhhh……

(Within me rages the battle between giving my Old Spice deodorant or not. It’s a vicious battle. Generousity Verse Old Spice.)

Mario (Seeing that I’m internally struggling to process his request): no, no. I need to buy.

And off Mario goes, sweaty, smelly and in search of some antiperspirant. Strangest interaction in Amsterdam yet.

I just finished reading a book called “The Spiritual Man” written by Watchman Nee (With that name, he may be a christian author AND an oriental superhero) that has one chapter dedicated to explaining what it means to really give everything to God. The scripture he works out of can be found in all four gospels. They are Jesus’ words talking about losing your life to save it. Here’s the verses from Matthew 16:24-25

“If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.”

Many of us read this verse, and agree with it, before we really take the time to dwell on the implications of it. By denying ourselves, and taking up our crosses we are making the decision to stop focusing on me, me, me, and start doing the things that God wants for us. It’s an easier concept to grasp than to act upon, as I have seen time after time. I’ll tell God that I’m going to give everything to Him, and that I want what’s best for Him, and than find myself ten minutes later pondering over whether I should buy myself a new computer, because my old one is out of date. Like I said, it’s easy to say, hard to do.

And for many, we decide that this verse applies only to our sinful side, our bad side. But this isn’t true. We’re called to lose our lives, ALL of it. The good and the bad. For believers, we can get wrapped into our own ideas of how WE can serve God. We’ll envision grand ministries that win hundreds of souls to Him, or plan clever ways to help those in need of justice. These are all great things to man, and are in alignment with God, but are they the plans that He has for you? Are you listening to God, and serving Him by acting upon what he tells you? Or are you taking matters into your own hands, and choosing your own way of serving Him? 

God wants us to deny ourselves, to take up our cross, and follow Him in everything that we do. And when we do that, we’re finding real life. Life in Him.

In an attempt to expose the Dutch for what they truly are, I am starting a segment on the blog called “The Dirty Dutch,” in which I will chronicle examples of Dutch dirtiness, as I come across them. With this said, here is example number one.

The Street Urinal. This is a common site here in Amsterdam. It’s an open air urinal that drains into the canal. The Dutch were tired of peeing all over their buildings, so they decided that they would build these. How do they work? First, you walk in. Second, you pull out your business. Third, you take a piss in the drain. For convenience, there’s usually a small wall that you can pee on so that you don’t get splashed upon.

Real classy.

err…I mean dirty.

My favorite part about this type of urinal is that you can people watch while you’re relieving yourself. Nothings worse than being in the middle of a great people watch session, and than having to get up and leave so that you can urinate. With the street urinal, no worries! Just get up and make it happen, all the while continuing to see what’s going on the world around you. How nice!

And that is reason number one for the Dirty Dutch.

I wish I could say that people are as open to the gospel, and as willing to accept it as the people of Uganda here in Amsterdam, but from my experience, so far, it isn’t the case.

Where as I would spend most of my time in Uganda explaining the gospel, I’ve found most of my time here debating over good and evil. or talking snakes. Many of the people I’ve talked with are so hardened towards Christianity, that I feel like I would have an easier time getting them to believe in a flying spaghetti monster than Christ.

Over the summer I read one of Corrie Ten Boom’s books. She was a Dutch christ follower who was fortunate enough to survive a Nazi concentration camp. After her release she spent her life traveling the globe talking about Jesus. I can’t remember much of the book, because honestly, it wasn’t that interesting of a read to me, but I do remember one piece where she says that it’s not her duty to convince people of the gospel, that’s God’s job. Her job is to tell people about Him, inform them, and let God do His work.

I like that idea.

Debating rarely goes anywhere. I can’t remember the last time I debated, or watched a debate in which the participants changed their position. It just doesn’t happen. Pride often gets in the way, and only roots people further into whatever stance they believe in.

I don’t have a problem talking about God, and all the ins and outs of Christianity, but I’ve come to realize that it’s more important for me to inform people, rather than convince.

And that’s what I’m going to do. Inform.

At the hostel I’m working at, it is a requirement of all the cleaners to participate in a daily bible study. Every morning we drag ourselves out of bed, gobble up our breakfast and plop down onto couches to wait for our supervisor to start handing out the bibles. And when the bibles are handed out, the mayhem begins.

You see, in every other bible study I’ve ever been in people are on the same page or at least in the general area. Everyone speaks english. Everyone has an idea of who God and Jesus are. Did I mention that everyone usually speaks English? Not the case here.

The cleaning crew is comprised of 6 guys from different parts of the world, and one leading woman. Each person with their own unique perspective of God and the world. Here’s the roll call:

There’s myself. The loud American who is accentless.

Eric. The Italian who cares for little more than pasta, and sandwhich spread.

Francisco. The Ecudorian who is able to bridge some languange barriers with his broken enlgish and solid spanish.

Adam. The granola from Oregon, who believes in no evil. 

Marcos. The silent Italian who has great taste in sweaters.

Albert. The Russian who is literally straight out of COLD WAR RUSSIA. I’ve never seen him laugh, but he smirked once, and that was only when he heard that we were having cold soup and vodka for supper.

And finally there is a leader who rotates every day. Always a woman, each one dearly in love with God, each one poorly prepared for the chaos that happens each morning.  

The discussion usually goes down something like this.

• Bible leader girl hands out bibles, and tells us what scripture we will be reading.
• We read the scripture in our different languanges.
• Those with excellent english understand the passage, and discuss.
• Those who don’t speak english try to ask questions.
• No one understands the questions, so everyone gives an answer to what they believe the question is. (I usually make 3-4 references to WW2 in my answer. It’s common ground here in Europe.)
• Adam the atheist tells the group that this passage reminds him of an ancient Chinese religion.
• Girl leader gets mad, and attempts to argue with the Atheist.
• Girl leader and Adam debate about Genesis until both have forgotten exactly what they are debating about.
• The debate fizzles out. Everyone is very confused, including myself.
• The Italians, and Ecudorian give a thumbs up when they are asked if they need prayer for anything.
• We pray.
• The Russian mumbles, and our discussion is concluded!

Like I said, it’s a bizarre bible study. Thank God for the bible, because it’s the only thing that makes any sense in our multi-languange babble time.