Travelling is my favourite thing
in the World to do. I LOVE it! That's why I worked for a travel agency and airline
for 5 years. And so it was no surprise to my parents, who had spent the
majority of their lives in missions, when I picked up my gigantic young family and
headed off for distant lands.
Now most of you will also know
that Liz and I have quit our jobs and stepped out in faith, starting a
community based school and centre, and travelling regularly to the local
schools to teach Bible and English classes, sharing Jesus with the scary dudes
of Tipitapa Prison, and praying with the sick kids in hospital - feeding them
and buying them medicines.
Many readers will also recognise
that Liz and I have given literally EVERYTHING we have, and are now broke.
In March, we had our pastors
visit from Australia. They are Godly men and we looked to them for wisdom.
Coupled with their visit was an invitation from an Assemblies of God Church in
New York to come and share. Throw in a raving Independent Baptist poking us and
prodding us about the benefits of deputation and there you have it, we felt
compelled to itinerate in the good ol' United States of America.
And so in the lead up to our trip
everything was chaos. I was madly teaching classes, working with the staff,
discipling the never-ending stream of jovenes that seem to be ever-present, and
trying to squeeze US Church visits into any nook and cranny our timetable would
hold.
Two nights before our departure
Liz and I were having a quiet moment during dinner (literally with the other 30
people in our house) when she said "What are we going to say to all of
these Churches Jed?" I hadn't really thought about it. I mean, it's not
like we don't have anything to share, but what do you draw out and focus on? The
orphans or street children? The youth? Those in prison, the sick, the standard
and system of education? What?
What do they want to hear? Should
they be rolling in the aisles laughing their heads off, crying uncontrollably
using each other's neck ties as handkerchiefs, do I rock the boat with a
challenging message, or go for the pity party?
How should the time be organised?
Who should speak? Can women speak in the Churches we're going to? What about kids?
What about girls? Eeeek! I am not a preacher but I always have plenty to say -
My answer was simple and so I said a little too pompously "I will trust
the Holy Spirit to lead me..." HA! How could she trump that!! But, oh
dear, it's Liz, she will somehow find a way!!! "Okay, well maybe you
should just speak alone and I'll sit with the kids and listen. I will trust the
Holy Spirit to teach me."
With Liz's words my mind started
to go a wee-bit doo-lally, "HOLY-MOLY-MOLY, she's right! I need to
consider my words and seek the Lord as to what he'd have me say. Christ always
had a plan and was ever communicating with the God of Heaven, he's my example
and I will follow him..."
Liz and I sat together, prayed
and came up with a delightful array of tantalising, thought-provoking, third
world informational tid-bit, sub-sectioned service elements designed to have
people think, consider, pray and communicate with us.
We decided firstly to share the
love of Jesus and secondly, to disseminate the message of hope through Christ,
and us through Him crafting disciples to help in fulfilling the Great
Commission - "...go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them
in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and
teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you..." (Matthew
28:19-20)
And so verily we planned songs to
sing in both Español and
English, a skit that Franny (our delightful daughter) had performed during one
of our youth nights, an audience participation activity exposing the harsh
realities of cultural difference (highlighting our transitional faux pas), a
powerpoint presentation to vividly reflect the words we were speaking and a
video. "A VIDEO??? No time", I thought to myself, I had to run!!!
I was determined to tidy up every
aspect of our lives in Nicaragua, before venturing on our merry, Jesus sharing,
awareness and support raising, pilgrimage to the north country. Upon my arrival
at Shawn's house, my best Gringo friend in Nicaragua, I realised it was already
9pm. I plonked myself on the couch and began to work.
Fortunately, my friend Shawn is
PASSIONATE about the Lord and loves to talk about Him at all times. And so I
found myself more in the Bible and less in the computer than I had planned.
Tremendous, I finished my film, which was really just a "next week"
type of promotional video, and stumbled home to bed. It was 4am by the time my
blinking eyes finally rested.
9am and up we all got. On
Sundays, at Capital Edge Community Center, we have a Baptist Church service. We
did a quick tidy-up involving sweeping the floor, rounding up the 6 dogs and 6
horses (5 horses and a foal), determining whether the youth present are
desirous of Church or chatter, and evicting the latter, and making coffee,
copious quantities of caliente (hot - though don't use this word when trying to
explain that your body temperature is soaring through the roof, as I once did
with my delightful 4th graders... It has quite a different meaning when used in
reference to the human body - let's pause here for a moment and thank the
LIVING GOD I wasn't fired over that embarressing incident) cups of sumptuous
java.
The Worshippers all vacated the
premises and Liz immediately transformed from a hymn singing Angel into a whip
cracking tyrant. She was focused, determined and unforgiving. "Move that
box from A to B!" She yelled. "Put your back into it you slovenly
coward!" She screamed. "Get your thumb out of your mouth and work,
work, work" She commanded. Exhausted? You have no idea...
I left at 9pm a broken man, but
satisfied that I had given my all to the love of my life, and although the
place wasn't "ready" for our imminent departure, it was well on the
way. I worked through the night on our second video. It took forever and again,
I found myself distracted by the teacher of Jesus, my pal Shawn.
I arrived home, again at 4am, to
find that Liz was still yelling and screaming, though at the volume of a
whisper. Why she'd worked up such a frenzy during the day she'd become hoarse.
The Lord truly is mysteriously miraculous, my prayers were being answered one
at a time... ha ha
I quickly packed my things and
helped with a few final chores before sounding the alarm and organising the
troops. We said our goodbyes which was relatively short and sweet, except for a
lingering hug between Francesca and Beycker. I wasted no time hugging over the
top of the duo, which made them laugh and seperate. That's the move I always go
for "laugh and seperate", "Laugh and Seperate", "LAUGH
AND GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!!!" (I often find myself laughing and by the
end I'm crying, and I don't know which emotion I'm drawing on and whether I
really should be laughing or crying, and so I PUSH ahead...)
American Airlines, partner to
Qantas Airways - the Spirit of Australia. Although I find the new
"check-in" gadgets thoroughly appalling and the lack and quality of
service extremely disappointing, I cannot deny that the queues are shorter and
the system is efficient.
I put my nose in the air and stride
straight past the North American airline staff who were dressed in shorts,
t-shirts, and whose lack of make-up and hair fashion was painfully obvious - a
disgusting reality of cheap air travel in the US market. "If only I was
flying with Taca or Copa", I lament. "Their customer service agents
still wear suits and their flight attendants still look like Patsy Stone
from the BBC's Absolutely Fabulous."
We arrive in Miami and so far I'm
impressed. The flight, although full, was pleasant and the flight attendants,
although not glamorously presented (probably due to the 100 hours they've worked
this week - another North American airline phenomenon), were tired but friendly
and helpful.
As with all American airport hubs,
we find ourselves having to walk along 300 miles of hallways, before finally
arriving at the immigration hall. Of course, the trip took twice as long
because Sezni decided to run in the wrong direction along the travelator. But
that just made the walking more interesting, ESPECIALLY when we were confronted
by an angry pilot who had tried to go around Sezni, but in the process had spilt
his steaming hot coffee all over himself, dropped his newspaper which was
swiftly eaten by the travelator's hungry teeth, and burnt/grazed his hand
whilst trying to protect his fall. Never mind, he had other things to worry
about, like whether or not Greece would still be there upon his descent into
Athens.
Of course, due to our alien status, we joined
the 25 person long line and patiently waited. We held Sezni close, with hand
over mouth. He was excited, had too much energy and was simply out-of-control.
And so we reeled, BOY DID WE REEL...
We arrived at the front of the
queue and the courteous, but unimpressed no-nonsense immigration officer called
us over. I untightened my grip on the boy, keenly aware of the cameras on my
person. He had calmed down! "Phew" I thought.
The officer asked "Why are
you in the US?" My response, "We're coming to speak in Churches and
visit with friends and family". I was nervous. We're Australian, which
means we can basically come-and-go from the US without visas, but throw in the
whole living in anti-West Nicaragua component, and we start to feel like Australia's
David Hicks, evading detention in Guantanamo Bay.
Blah, blah, blah, look into the
camera, put your index finger on the pad, etc, etc, etc. The children behave
like angels. Smiling sweetly and answering correctly. Their tone is perfect,
not to loud so as to come across bossy and disrespectful, and not too soft,
like they're covering something up. And then it's Sezni's turn...
"Sezni Brien?", the
chap calls. "Sezni?', he repeats himself. We all start to look at Sezni,
our pleasant countenances begin to morph into concentrated stares. "SEZNI
BRIEN!?" The immigration officer now stares impatiently at Sezni. I push our
creative little creature forward.
At this point I must also confess
that our family completely stretches Sezni. The boy has been diagnosed with Aspergers
syndrome. He needs plenty of fore-warning about anything and everything, he
loves routine. He has a vivid imagination, doesn't appreciate a whole lot of
human interaction (which is the boy's main struggle in our family) and obsesses
over dinosaurs, fizzy drinks (pop, soda, carbonated refreshments) and movies.
Sezni has an incredible memory.
He learnt Spanish because his first teacher was replaced by a couple of ladies
in Mexico who knew that Sezni learnt when dinosaurs and winning were involved,
and at the time, those two elements were the only factors necessary for success
in his language acquisition.
However, Sezni also watched an
ENORMOUS amount of television. We learnt early on that Sezni loves television
and would learn Spanish in phrases from television programs. It was a similar
case in English. However, Sezni repeats phrases he has memorised from
television in everyday social interactions - that's not always cool...
Sezni stepped forward to the immigration
officer. "Sure thing, BUTTHEAD!" The immigration officer's eyebrows
raised, and I could see that he was trying to hold back laughter, and so he
clenched his teeth and forced a frown. Liz and I went bright red. I immediately
wanted to administer Biblical discipline, but the cameras, THE CAMERAS!
I hugged Sezni from the side and
placed my hand under his arm, so that I could hold onto a small piece of his skin.
Unfortunately, this made matters worse. Sezni and I play-wrestle ALL THE TIME.
Because Sezni was now extremely tired, he started to giggle, not realising the
seriousness, nor the context of this situation.
The immigration officer asked
Sezni to remove his hat, in a very serious tone (though by this time the
officer was beginning to smile and then frown with such contracted force that
if you had have slipped a wig on his head, slopped some white paint on his face,
lipstick on and around his mouth, and slapped (thank you Skin Cancer Foundation
of Australia) a red nose on his honker, he would have looked just like a member
of Dumbo's circus act, the cartoon version.
Sezni's response? "I don't
think so, BUTTHEAD!" I pinched HARD and ripped the hat off. Sezni stood to
attention. The show was over, the deal was done, the mystery had materialised.
Sezni did exactly as he was told. He answered every question. He was respectful
and polite, gave eye contact and made us proud.
As we strode away to the
beginning of our American adventures the immigration officer broke with the
norm and called out to us "have a great time in America!" Sezni
turned slowly, a little too Jim Carey for my liking, and before he was able to
cooly respond "THANKS... BUTTHEAD!!!", Liz and I both slapped our
hands over his mouth and cheerfully called out "we will!"
No need to clarify. Sezni
received many Biblical disciplines that day. Starting with the bathroom
attached to the baggage claim. However, it highlighted to me how God wants us
to be like Peter who stepped out of the boat. Liz has had such a revelation
over the last month about how we as Christians tend to concentrate on the lack
of faith that Peter had. What about the other disciples? They were still sitting
cosily and warm, away from physical danger - in the boat! Where was THEIR
faith?
Over the next couple of months I
am going to write about our trip to the US. This venture has required a MAMMOTH
step out of the boat for the Brien family. However, we do not seek the things
of this World. Yesterday, 12 people were killed in yet another Colorado
killing. Did those people, who had their lives taken from them, know Jesus
Christ in a personal and real way? That is our mission, to be a part of the
Great Commision, to reach the lost for the Glory of God.
And so for those of you who would
like to support us through the Australian Christian Churches - International
Missions (Australian arm of the Assemblies of God), please visit our facebook
page, Capital on the Edge, click on "files" at the top of the page,
and then download "Field Worker Support Pledge form.pdf", fill it in
and send it back to them. It really is THAT easy... If you have any questions,
please contact us at CapitalontheEdge@gmail.com
Thanks for reading Part 1 of
Planes, Trains and Automobiles,
