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Steady Going

6/16/2013

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Having read the first installments of these posts, I asked a reader what he was thinking. He replied, "Well, the first ones were pretty exciting, but these last couple haven't been the same. Hurry up and get to the good part!" 

I must agree. The details in the past two accounts have not been very exciting-- interesting, but not exciting. Coincidentally, this is the point. The months after our move to Jellico were not exciting. They were difficult, depressing and drug along. Yes, we were supplied, and yes, God's provisions kept us energized, but much of those years, and much of our time since, has simply been survival. It hasn't been an exciting adventure as much as the sheer determination to get up and go at it again tomorrow. Sometimes missions/ministry is that way.

An earlier post refers to the notion of a "journey". This has been that--a sort of journey. Along the way, I suppose I have come to believe that our years on this trek have shared, if not the experiences, then the learnings of the journey through the wilderness described long ago and summarized  in Deuteronomy 8:2-7. 

    "Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and  to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not your would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live by bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD. Your clothes did not wear out and your feet did not swell during those forty years. Know then that as a man disciplines his son, so the LORD your God disciplines you."

We haven't collected heavenly bread each morning, but daily provisions have arrived and often just one day at a time. Many times, their source has been one which appeared inexplicably. Our clothes have worn out, but our closets are full, and like many of you, we need to get rid of some. We have not hungered physically, but our budget has demanded that we enjoy simple foods when others have lived more expensively, though not any better. And the LORD has tested our hearts. The slow, long slog has driven us to the brink of despair; the stillness and questions about the future have circled our camp like Amelekite raiders and hissed fear and doubt into our hearts like fiery vipers. The character of our hearts has been tested every day, and in future posts I intend to share some of those moments with you. Some will remain between us and the LORD. The important point, however, is that throughout these 17 years, we have been treated generously, lovingly, and wisely-- as a man treats his son whom he loves.

If I were writing a novel, I might have been more dramatic, or delved into the description of a local personality, or sermonized, but drama just wasn't a major element of  the early years. Most of what we did came more from the quiet waters of a deep conviction that God had a purpose for us in Appalachia, than the shallow babbling brook of adventure.  Which, true as it is, does not mean that future posts won't startle, stun, shake, or sizzle because, they will. 

We kept going, and God was in it.  The 'good parts' are coming. So, you keep reading. 
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The Journey Begins: Jellico

6/13/2013

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PictureOld picture of a young coal miner.
Entries from my journals are in italics. Additional comments have been added for clarity in the form of NOTES. The facts have not been altered, though first names, initials, or pseudonyms are used instead of full names to protect the privacy of those involved. The amounts and quantities shown are actual.


12/15/95 We arrived in Jellico on the 13th. God provided a 3 bedroom rental house for $300 per month. The timing was, of course, perfect. DW worked hard and prepared all the water, electric, and telephone arrangements prior to our arrival. This was the first of God’s provisions. I’ve begun searching for work.

12/19/01 My first interview was today. Rumor is of a factory to open here soon, so I checked into it.  The manager offered me a supervisor position, but the job demanded I be on call 24/7. It was for the 3pm to 12 midnight shift and would keep me from prime family time hours during the week and perhaps weekends. I told the interviewer that I had children and could not commit to that schedule.

He clearly wanted someone he could train and depend upon for the long term. Believing that ministry will one day consume all my time, I told him I could not be counted on to be available over the long term.  So, I declined the offer, but left him my application for any lesser position that offered daytime hours. Having stood firm on principles of family-first and full disclosure, I lost the possibility of securing the highest paying job available in Jellico today, but I am not afraid. God is also firm on His principles.

12/95  After that interview God began a shower of blessings. Though we solicited none of them,  gifts were sent to us. These arrived during our first month in Jellico-- the month of December:
M&SB $100 
HL church $1000
J&DM $150
M&MA $50
KIM $200
E&FW $50
T&DH $205
B&DW $28
SR church gave a resettlement gift of $6300.
NC church – sent winter boots and clothes for the entire family. We don’t even know them!
Leaving Texas, many individuals offered us odds-n-ends for setting up.
D&JM–a ham

 12/30/95 NOTE: My Mother’s health condition was worse than we had discerned before leaving Africa.  She lived with chronic and excruciating pain. Doctors had not determined the cause or cure. Many times I slept in a chair by her bed to watch in case she woke in the night and needed assistance.  It was difficult for all of us, but especially for her.

For Christmas we were given two large boxes filled with new winter shoes and boots. I was given a winter underclothing. A church in NC heard of us and were moved by God to send these items!

Yesterday, we got a call from R&C E in Texas. They’d been moved to call and offer to send us some support. I explained our doctrinal stance might be different from theirs, because I wanted to be completely honest. They had no problems and will be sending the gifts.

God is daily confirming to me that He is near and aware and involved. Also, for the past two mornings I’ve felt compelled to lay prostrate before the Lord during my prayers as I pray for Mom (Her chronic pain.). Yesterday she said, ‘Steve, today I’ve had one of those rare days when I’ve felt really good.


12/31/95 $160 left on our pillows and refrigerator by D & CS after they left our house today. They promise to give regularly. 


Thus the year 1995 came to a close. So much had changed in 12 months: a baby had arrived, we'd moved around the globe, our mission in Africa had come to a halt, our mission in Appalachia had begun, and Mom had moved in. It was a year filled with a lot of stress. It was not one to live over, but it was a necessary transition. I suppose it was like that part of a woman's labor that doctors refer to as 'transition' -- painful, but necessary for the beginning of a new life. We'd felt the pain; we now waited to see what was about to be born.


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Muller's Call. Our Call?

6/12/2013

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Picture
In the months just prior to leaving Kenya, I had, almost by accident, been introduced to the autobiography of a man whose story influenced my life profoundly. He is perhaps my chief spiritual mentor though he lived a hundred years before I was born.

George Muller—was a great man of prayer. He operated an orphanage in the 1800s that was supplied solely by the provisions of God in answer to prayer. There was no solicitation, no advertising, no sharing of needs, no begging or pleading. There was quiet prayer and waiting. He wrote about his purpose in operating the orphanage’s funding in this atypical manner:

“The chief end being that the church of Christ at large might be benefited by seeing manifestly the hand of God stretched out on our behalf in the hour of need, in answer to prayer. Our desire, therefore, is not that we may be without trials of faith, but that the LORD graciously would be pleased to support us in the trial, that we may not dishonor Him by distrust. This way of living brings the LORD remarkably near. He is, as it were, morning by morning inspecting our stores, that accordingly He may send help.” (See footnote for quote source.)          

Mr. Muller’s trust in God for provisions was the primary avenue through which God demonstrated, for over 50 years, an eagerness to answer believing prayer. The testimony which resulted from Muller’s answered prayers was considered by Muller to be perhaps of greater importance than his ministry to the orphans. Since we first read his story in 1989, Donna and I have been “nudged” to follow his example.

Thus, grand as our Appalachian church planting dreams may have been, they rested on taller shoulders.   We felt God wished to work through us to deliver as a fresh testimony that He still hears and answers prayer.   

Serving as a living testimony to God’s readiness to hear prayer was our chief objective in coming to Appalachia. We moved toward that position only partially until in 1999 when we came under His wing fully at the advice of our four friends.

The journey ahead would be filled with tests and delights. At times we would be distraught and despair, yet at others we were delighted and astonished. Though it was not (and sometimes still is not) always easy, we managed to stay on the roller coaster. Only in recent years do we get a little giddy at the approach of a "drop-off".  PROVISIONS is a telling of the ups-n-downs of that story.

Taking our example from Muller, Donna and I determined never to solicit assistance, or inform others of our needs.  Our needs were kept secret; known only to God in the closet of prayer. This awareness of the purposeful secrecy of the needs of our family and ministry made way for the exceptional testimonies of God’s resulting answers. 

PROVISIONS  however, is not to become a model or recipe for others. It is not to be taken as normative practice for all Christians. In no way am I (or would Muller) suggest that others of you do as we have done. God provides for His people through wages for work, through fund raising efforts, through sharing etc. These are in no way inferior or ‘less spiritual’ than what PROVISIONS records. We believe God’s working in our life and ministry has been unique simply because He desires a unique testimony. Though unique, PROVISIONS is only one demonstration of God’s readiness to hear and respond to prayer. 

If there is a clear message; a clear model; an example to take; or a teaching from PROVISIONS for all Christians it is this: “Pray. God IS listening.”

PROVISIONS opens the door to the living room of our private ups and downs, our personal humanity. Such vulnerability is needed so that the workings of God may shine brightly against our doubts and personal weaknesses.  It demonstrates how God moves the tender hearts of His people--apart from well planned ad-campaigns, religious telemarketing, televangelist pleading, or even the casual mention of needs or “opportunities”. While it certainly shows that we should be praying, it also reminds us that we need to be listening. We are all His instruments: sometimes recipients, and sometimes channels of  provision.

What we detail in these entries is far, far, far from being a fund-raising method.  Our story is an illustration of how faithful God is to hear our prayers, and how He nudges us to action.  The focus is God’s faithfulness and activity in our midst today.

PROVISIONS exposes my family and I to both the accolades of those who see and believe as well as to the criticisms of those who doubt. Neither are accurate critiques. Again, the only proper response to the material is a focus upon and adoration of Jehovah Jireh.

Here, let me pause and take a deep breath as I release this material into your hands. These records have been held, until now, in private chambers. Yet, I am thrilled to share with you the things-- great and small, public and obscure-- which God has done. The entries I’ve selected are mostly about daily provisions, but also about personal and family issues and, near the end, about souls. It was necessary to offer entries describing our

Picture12/14/95 - The Ryder Truck, Our Suburban & Mom's Car.
personal doubts, fears, and questions so you might know the range and rhythm of our struggle to keep on believing.  May you find them human enough to see yourself yet divine enough to see Him. 

Here, in December of 1995, the story opens with us driving a Ryder truck into the small Appalachian community of Jellico, Tennessee where unemployment is high, friends are  few, the future is uncertain, but God has called. 


[1] George Muller: All Things are Possible by A.T. Pierson; published by Ambassador 

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The Florence Avenue House

6/10/2013

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PictureCaleb in the Ryder Truck we drove from Texas to Tennessee.
Our house on Florence Avenue sagged in the middle. Adequate for a start, it was a squeeze for the 7 of us. Dale, who’d initially invited us to work in Jellico had also found the Florence Avenue house. She had even made all the deposits and other arrangement for us to move in. Her help made for an easy transition. The Florence Avenue house would be our home for the next five years. 

My Mother took a bedroom downstairs and nearest the entry. Our rooms were upstairs in what was actually a converted attic. The ceiling was low. I had to stoop low to make it to our bedroom. Only down the center of the room could my 6'3" frame stand fully, but the low ceilings provided a wonder-world for the kids for whom it must have felt a perfect fit. The enclosed area over the porch, where Hannah slept most of the summer, was not insulated which made for a cool place in the hot months, but became too cold in the winter. During cold months all the kids slept in the space above the living room which was better insulated.  Donna and I had our own room in an attic room with a door that offered privacy, but it too was a squeeze. Our mattress lay directly on the floor since attaching the bed frames made the bed too tall. It was a tight, but cozy, fit.

Downstairs a kitchen, washroom, small sitting room, dining room,  and bedroom (for Mom) squeezed into about 800 square feet. A single bathroom had been added off the dining room. Likely, the house had not originally had indoor plumbing. It was near to Mom’s room however, and that was important. 

The backyard had a wild apple tree, which the kids loved. The front had just enough room to park our cars. This is where we began. It was God’s first provision for us, and we thanked Him. 

My intention was to find work locally. It shouldn’t have been a problem. I was articulate, honest, hard working, a quick learner, and good looking. (Okay, nix that last descriptive, though my wife thinks I’m handsome.) I figured, “Within 6 months I’ll be employed and up and running with the church planting”.  Soon, the title of the chapter God was writing became clear, “Overly Optimistic”. 

Appalachia was a low income, high unemployment area of the country even in a booming economy, and Jellico seemed at the epicenter. As a missionary, I had no training or experience for secular industry. I attempted several types of self-employment--often working at several of them simultaneously-- including multi-level marketing, sales, sign painting, book writing, carpentry, investing, agriculture and technical recruiting. I applied at the Rite Aid, the State Park, and Taylor’s machine shop, I even drove 60 miles to interview at a Wal-Mart distribution center. Many workdays were 16 and 18 hours and  often producing no net gain. Though we lived very frugally, only three times during those first 3 years did my income meet our expenses for that month.  As our savings dwindled stress grew. Often, I questioned the sanity (or insanity) of moving to Appalachia. 

My efforts at provision were taking the bulk of my time and energy. The dribble of them that remained was insufficient to carry out any of the dreams of church planting we had envisioned for the mountains. Something had to change, drastically and soon.

It did in late 1999. I was approached by a nearby University to work with students and the school’s local outreach program. I interviewed. It was an all consuming role meaning no time or energy for church planting. Scripture counseled me to see advice. How glad I am that I did.

I explained the entire scenario to four close friends. Two I phoned. The last two were husband and wife and our neighbors. Mike was first. He listened and slowly responded, “Steve, I don’t know that I could do this, but I think you ought to go on and do what you think God sent you up there to do. Just get busy with the church planting.” 

Wow! That was not what I’d expected. Stop working all together? Drop my only income producing efforts?  How would we get any supplies? Dizzying.

I thanked him and did what anyone would do, I sought a second opinion. Dwane, took my call, heard the whole story except for what Mike had advised, and you will not believe what he said. Almost word for word he responded, “Steve, I don’t know that I could do this, but I think you ought to go on and do what you think God sent you up there to do.” I thanked him and sat down to think. Instantly, I knew what to do next…seek a third opinion.

The Greeks, our neighbors, met with Donna and I at our house. We explained all and shared with them the advice Mike and Dwane had given us. What was their opinion? They, not to our surprise, but almost contrary to our hopes, agreed with the other two. So, Monday morning I walked in and submitted my two-week notice to the building contractor I was working for. He was stunned. When I tried to explain why I was leaving and what I would be doing. His face expressed his thoughts, “You are nuts.” 

 Again, I was reminded that since God expected the Jews to feed their work animals, it was reasonable to expect that He would provide for us, who spent our energies and time doing His work.

If lightening were to strike a spot once, you might think it a fluke or chance. If the same spot were struck twice, it might still be thought a coincidence. However, if the same spot were struck 100 or even 1000 times would you believe something besides luck was at play?

If Donna and I had received only one or only a few gifts in answer to prayers, it could be deemed that our gifts were merely the kind heartedness of a few friends, but we received hundreds of gifts-- many coming in the  exact amounts and times which we had presented to the LORD. 


Though each may be of small merit on its own, the collective weight of nearly $750,000.00 over 13 years is strong evidence that something special is happening.  


I have recorded many of those events so that you might have more reason to believe.
                                                                                                                                                                          --Stephen 
PictureThe view along I-75 near Jellico.
The facts however, are that God had in effect, been our Provider since our arrival to Jellico. All along, He had been sending surprise gifts, but we would now be trusting Him for every need. I had the peace that comes with doing the right thing, and yet, I felt a knot in my gut like I had strapped myself into a roller coaster and cresting the first long drop--the kind that makes your heart race and your stomach leap into your throat.

 


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PROVISIONS: "The God of George Muller is at it again."

6/4/2013

 
Picture

GEORGE MULLER


….. if you wonder whether God still acts
,…. if you aren’t convinced God hears prayer,
….if you need evidence that you can trust Him,
                    ~Or~
….if you believe all the above, but love hearing again of His faithfulness…

…..read PROVISIONS.


“Even the daily bread, by which our bodies are sustained, and for which we are taught to pray, is, as it were, manna sent us directly from Heaven. Yet our provision looks to superficial observers as in so many respects like the ordinary manna, that they are apt to mistake it, and that even we ourselves in our unbelief too often forget the daily dispensation of our bread from heaven.”                                     -- Alfred Edershiem


Dear Reader,
          
          Thank you for taking the time to let me tell you a true story. It has taken place within my lifetime, so the details are accurate and fresh. I am privileged to share them with you, and even more privileged to have lived them. I believe you will be blessed by reading them .
          When you have finished each entry, quietly sit before Father and listen to what stirred in your heart as you read. Take action, if moved to that, but do so prayerfully. Many have been inspired by the stories of God's dealings with George Muller. The accounting of the many and varied ways God moved in that era in response to Muller's prayers changed my life, and I believe this record of events in my life will change some of yours. 
          It is said, "No more than a book can know what words may be written upon its pages, can a man know what acts God may perform in his life."  Keep reading to learn what God may have in mind to write on your pages. 
                                                                                             
                                                                                              All things by prayer; by prayer, all things.
                                                                                              Stephen L. Meeks  -- 1999
         
   

Journey    
12.13.95

Picture
The book that affected my life so deeply since first reading it in 1989. 

"Discovering" Muller was totally by accident/providence. I was visiting a missionary friend in Eldoret, Kenya and happened to notice the book on his shelf. Bored, I asked if I could borrow it. He agreed. My boredom disappeared after the first few lines. 

While I do not hold up Mr. Muller as more than a humble, obedient servant of Christ, I have been drawn to learn from him as one from whom I could learn some avenue for enjoying the intimate fellowship/relationship he enjoyed with God. 

Here let me add that I believe Muller's example is one of the heart only.  His 'methods' are not a recipe for everyone to mimic. His obedience to God's direction and directives is the element which I aspire to copy--never his 'methods'. Even Mueller often warned against trying to duplicate or imitate him in any manner other than that of his humble seeking after the will of God. I implore readers to use my records as Mr. Muller wanted his to be used: as inspiration to follow where God leads, and without fear. He provides where He guides.

Muller is not the hero of his own stories; God is.  And, Muller is not the only character in his stories; there are thousands. 

Each individual who heard and responded to the nudge of God in their lives became a central character in His life's tale of God's intervention into time and space. Likewise, those hundreds who are mentioned or referred to in my record (jBTW all the names have been changed.) are central players in this drama. I would say they are God's heroes.
Picture
It was December 13th, 1995.  I was unemployed. We knew only two people in town. Our   four children were young (ages 11, 9, 4 and 3 months), and my mother, who had just come to live with us, was seriously ill. I can’t believe we did it, but under these conditions our family lumbered on to the Cumberland Plateau and into the tiny Appalachian town of Jellico, Tennessee. But I’m bringing you in at the middle of the story. First, let’s go back 8 months to May, and travel across the world to Kenya, East Africa.

For ten years my wife, Donna, and I had been blissfully busy as missionaries.

Our plans were to continue planting African churches the rest of our lives. That was our plan, until one evening in May.

It had taken us 5 years to get a phone line, and phone calls were expensive, so the phone was a tool during emergencies. When it rang that afternoon, I suspected trouble.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Steve?” It was my Mother’s voice. She sounded worried, almost tearful.

“Yes, Mom. It is me. I can hear you. Is everything alright?”

“Are you okay?” My Mother, no matter the situation, was always one to deflect attention from herself out of consideration for others first.

“Yes. We are all fine. What’s up there?”

“Well, son. I’m not doing too well. I don’t think I can manage anymore without some help. I really need you to help me.” She was crying. Her heart was breaking for having to ask of me (us) what she was asking. She was asking us to leave our dream.

Donna and I knew the answer; it was obvious. We began making arrangements to relocate to the USA in order to care for Mom. She had been brave and suffered chronic pain for years, but now it was crippling and it was time to be nearer and more helpful. Clearly, the pages ahead of us were not going to be completed as we’d imagined. Never could we have guessed what lay ahead.

The next few months were a scramble. Our son, Benjamin, was born in early June. We sold out, wrapped up, packed, and departed Kenya in late August.  September and October were spent in the States reporting to supporters and hoping for direction. We smiled at every service and through each meeting, but inwardly we grieved the death of the life we’d known and loved for a decade.  Though our bodies were in America, our hearts were in Africa.  It was a crucible-time and this was just the beginning.

There were a few options presented to us. Planting a house church in New Jersey presented itself. We took a look, but we were rural missionaries and Camden was not Kenya. I remember feeling physically dizzy from the blur of activity and noise. We loved the house church idea, but this was too much too fast. A University asked that I help link their missions department with the other disciplines. Attractive, granted, but something didn’t click there either. An Hispanic church planting opportunity in Texas was a good one, but there were extenuating circumstances which portended roadblocks down the road so, we passed again.

In the final week of our travel and reporting we visited friends in Appalachia with this prayer secretly on our lips, “Lord, if this is the place have them invite us to come.” This is the one visit we had planned with no stated objective other than to say, “Hello.”

The last evening, one of our friends offered, “We are so busy at the clinic that we don’t have time to minister after hours to those we meet.  Why don’t you all come here?”

Donna and I drove the next day talking all the way to Texarkana. Crossing the state line into Texas we pulled over at a rest area. The kids needed to stretch after 13 hours in a cramped car and we needed to breathe fresh air and pray.

I  told Donna, “You know we asked God to have them ask us if He wanted us there.”

She replied, “And that’s what happened.”

“I guess we’re moving to Tennessee?” I offered.

“Yes,” She said, “I think we should.”

They needed a church planter and I needed a team and a new dream.  Ironically, the month before my mother had called us in Africa Donna and I had remarked that maybe—thinking 15-20 years down the road -- we’d retire to work in Appalachia.  In my journal a page was written. It became the first of a challenging chapter.

“God brought us to Appalachia with a vision. We came believing that it was God’s desire for us to introduce the Mountain People to Jesus. While religion was prevalent, the holy life, which Christ produces, was far too rare. Our dream was greater than a single church planting. We envisioned a “movement”. We imagined hundreds of rural communities of faith stretching the length of the Appalachian Mountain range, spilling down the mountains and across the ocean. We had big dreams. They seemed a worthy swap for those we’d given up in Africa, but would they come true, and how would we survive? The invitation to Appalachia had not come with a salary, or any offers of financial assistance. We were going because it seemed the answer to our prayer, and the God who commanded that farmers feed their oxen would surely care for his own laborers…wouldn’t He?

December 10th, 1995 we waved goodbye to our friends and family in Texas; driving away from those who had been our financial and moral supporters. On December 13th, 1995 we parked the Ryder Truck at 203 W. Florence Ave. in Jellico, Tennessee, breathed a sigh of relief and offered a prayer to Him who would now be our provider.”

The next page would be nothing like we thought.



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    Husband to Donna.
    "Dad" to four sons.
    "Daddy" to one daughter. 
    "Babu" to Lathy-Bug & Jeda-Bear.  

    I like the solitude of mountains, the exotic danger of jungles, the power of rainstorms, and the first sip of hot coffee in the morning.

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