Enough

Quick note on this entry–This is a blog. This is an honest blog. I am a real person, and I want to be candid and real here. By the request of many, I’ve been asked to continue this blog, and right now this is a time where honesty might not be pretty, but, well, it’s honest. Thanks for understanding.

* * * * * *

The Y.M.C.A. fitness center was where I started.

I tied my shoes tighter, tucked the laces in, dropped my jacket and belongings in a pile, and took off like a gun had echoed into the sky and I was pushing off a starting block. The shoes were Sketchers and had more style than substance, but they made a solid rhythm on the carpeted track that rolled a quarter mile around the outside of the fitness center in a lazy oval shape. My head was pounding too, pounding with each step, pounding with mind-numbing questions that were currently left unanswered.

Why did I dive into Uganda and into the relationship with Alisha only to have it not be God’s will?

It all seemed perfect…my position in Erie, PA had closed financially. I was dating Alisha, a girl who was heading to Uganda. BIMI candidate school began the very month that I received my last paycheck from Erie. So I jumped in! And it was great! Deputation was great, life was great, support was going great.

Then, a month and a half ago, my world fell apart.

To keep it discreet (two were involved in this relationship), I won’t tell you what specifically happened. No sin or anything, but an explosion came into the relationship. For 3 weeks, we tried to continue, but I simply couldn’t get my head above water, and Sunday, March 1, the wedding was called off. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever made, and I saw my potential future in Uganda crumble before my eyes.

Thump, thump, thump. My breathing started to quicken. Another lap, another question..

What in the world did the last 13 months of my life MEAN?

True, God works all things for our good…but what good, specifically, did this do for anyone? What lesson was I to learn? All that this seemed to bring with it was pain…the pain of a broken relationship, the pain that this caused to others, the personal pain that I had to deal with. Where was the good? Where was the rose among all of these thorns?

Pu-Thump, Pu-Thump, Pu-Thump…the last lap. My muscles screamed as I mercilessly pumped out the last quarter-mile, all the pain and hurt and memories clinging to my skin like the sweat-drenched shirt I was wearing. All the whispers of the last 2 weeks became shouts. You were never cut out for mission work, Robert. You just weren’t close enough to God. You lousy sinner. Get out of here, out of church, out of touch. Go get an apartment, a good 9-5 job, change your address and cell number, and try your best not to hurt anybody ever again. The best thing you can do with your life is try not to be a bother. You just bring pain to yourself and to others. You weren’t made for this. Keep running, run out of this place, out of this town, run away from everything and everyone you have loved and ruined. I choked on these, I stumbled, but I kept running until I passed my jacket for the last time of the night.

I came to the end of the run and keeled over, literally, in the middle of the YMCA fitness club. All the doubts and fears and hurts of the last 3 weeks gushed out on me like a coach getting drenched with the Gatorade barrel at the end of a winning football game. I stayed there, gasping, for quite a while before grabbing my jacket and things and heading to the showers. As I stood under the spray of water minutes later, one question overshadowed all the others, the final bully of the night.

What do I do now?

I thought I was going to be in full-time ministry for the rest of my life. I thought I was going to preach Sundays and Wednesdays and help people come to Christ for a living! I thought my future was plain and clear and all set up for me, a simple outlined race I just needed to run. But no matter what I thought before, the biggest problem was that now, I didn’t know WHAT to think. I didn’t know what to do. I had done the best thing I could think of–waiting on the Lord and serving in my local church, looking into grad school possibilities–but that’s it. That’s all I got. Was I just supposed to be able to live with that? Was that supposed to be enough?

Yes.

What? Now, I know the drill, God doesn’t speak audibly…but something deep within my heart and soul said yes, right there, so loudly that I turned around to see if anyone else was there in the shower. No one was, of course. But as I changed and drove home quietly, as I walked into my small studio apartment this kind church in Erie had provided me with, as I sat in my room and thought, the answer remained.

Yes.

It was enough that God loved me. It was enough that I was saved from hell and on my way to heaven by His Son’s blood. It was enough that I was forgiven and approved of by God, whether or not the whole world approved or disapproved of what He had told me to do. It was enough to wake up every day with another sunrise and live long enough to watch the following sunset and to know that God’s grace is the only reason I got to breathe all those breaths. It was enough to have feet to run and lungs to gasp with while running and eyes to see the track tonight. It was enough to go to bed in the arms of my Redeemer, and to know that every tear that was cried the last dreadful month and a half has been seen, stored and accounted for.

It

Was

Enough.

So tonight, as I sit here in my apartment, typing with perfectly good fingers, listening to a sermon with perfectly good ears, thinking of unanswered questions about the past and squinting through the fog of the future, I smile a little bit. Yes. It is enough. God is enough. His love, His plans, and His presence is enough. And I am at peace in the midst of my storm. Thanks, all of you, for your prayers. I close with a poem written by someone else about the exact same God I know and love.

Let me know that You love me

Let me feel Your touch

Let me know that You hear me

Let that be enough.

Not Our Ways

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

Isaiah 55:8-9

Thank you all so much for your prayers and support. Although Alisha and I were scheduled to be married in less than two months, God had other plans. Some doubts arose, and the Lord did not give confidence to continue. Our marriage has been cancelled.  After praying fervently over what God might have me to do and receiving counsel, I believe that God wants me to stop deputation, take a step back, and wait on His guidance for what to do next. This has been a very difficult decision to make. A big thanks to everybody who has prayed for me during this time. Before you throw that prayer card away, please pray one last time that God would show me clearly what His will is for my life. God bless you.

-Robert

My Father Can

Recently, just recently, I’ve had several people–through several different venues–looking to me for spiritual advice. Now, I will be completely and utterly honest with you when I say that I am a work in progress. I, by myself, really can’t help you. Now, I can listen pretty good, I’m okay at empathizing, I’ll definitely pray with you, but I don’t know if I can FIX your problem.

As I was coming to the Lord for guidance, bringing Him my cares and concerns, He took me to a particular Scripture in my devotionals that seeped into my heart and I hope is an encouragement to yours. It’s the story of Moses and his first encounter with the voice of God. It just so happens that God appears in a burning bush, and tells Moses that he is the chosen one to deliver God’s people from the bondage and slavery of Egypt. Moses immediately brings his TRUTHFUL arguments to God–I’m not a speaker, I’m not a leader, I’m not a popular person. But every time, God gently reminds Moses that this whole adventure he was about to get into wasn’t about him. It was about God.

“I will be your Voice.” “I will provide the signs.” “I will show the people that I’ve sent you.”

And Moses surrenders and goes, based on the fact that he couldn’t do these things, but his Father can. His Father can lead these Israelites out of Egypt, through the wilderness, and into the Promised Land. His Father can provide shoes that never grow old. His Father can provide manna in the midst of the desert.

We are a broken people in a darkened world. I will not sit here behind this keyboard and tell you that because I’m a missionary to Uganda, I’ve arrived, I’ve attained, and I have all the answers. I can’t heal your broken heart. I can’t salve your deepened wounds. I can’t answer your burning questions.

But my Father can.

I can’t preach the gospel of Jesus Christ with clarity and passion and the power of the Spirit. But my Father can. I can’t keep the commitment of my life to Christ. But my Father can. I can’t give hope to the dying, help the the helpless, Bread to the eternally starving or Water to the eternally thirsty.

But my Father can.

You might be insecure, uninspired, discouraged and feeling alone. And you can’t rise above those feelings to serve the Lord. By yourself, you just can’t! But your Father can. If we will truly become as little children, and truly depend on God as our heavenly Father, then God, through us, can accomplish the amazing things that He wants to do in this world. Our Father can. That’s my simple message to you today. 35% support, rising by the month, thanks for your prayers. My Father has heard them.

Knots

My stomach is in knots right now. I don’t agree with Paul Washer on everything, but if anyone would doubt his passion for God, they have another thing coming. Here’s what he said that struck me: “When was the last time you paced the room where your unused bed lies, saying with fervor ‘There is a place where His name is not worshiped, there is a place where His name is not worshiped!’ Travailing in tears, not over unwashed sinners, but over an unworshiped Savior!”

Or words to that effect.

My stomach is in knots because sometimes I forget why I’m going. Why this whole thing is happening. This isn’t about people. This is so much greater than just people.

Two young Moravians heard of a sugar plantation owner in the West Indies whose slaves spent all their lives on that island. These slaves would live and die on the island never receiving the gospel.

So the two young men decide to sell themselves to slavery so that the slaves of that plantation owner would receive the gospel. They would spend the rest of their lives literally in chains so that two thousand plantation slaves could get the gospel.

What? What? What kind of reasoning, what kind of belief, what kind of burning, passionate fire in their bones made them do that? Made them really be OK with giving it all away?

Here it is. Are you listening? Are you aching for this kind of fire? As their family and friends stood on the pier watching, the two Moravian missionaries put their final things on the boat to head to the island, never to return. After the boat was 20 feet from the dock, one of the missionaries turned around

and said

(are you listening)

“Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive the reward of His sufferings!”

That’s it. He’s worthy. Jesus died for the sins of the world, and

He

is

worthy

to receive the souls his blood has purchased.

A-men. The knot remains. I hope it’s contagious. I hope we squirm in our seats. I hope the knots start being tied all over the nation! God bless you guys.

Pressing On

Hello all! I hope you each had a spectacular new year celebration and are enjoying the wintery months. I’m in Schaumburg, IL right now, and the windchill is 27 below. Literally. It’s the kind of cold that sinks through your skin, grabs your bones, and hangs on for dear life. It goes in your lungs every time you draw a breath and uses them as punching bags. It’s pretty bad. At least here in Panera Bread it’s slightly warm.

As most of you know, I traveled Neighborhood Bible Time for 2 years and trained the rally time guys for 2 more. I was able to stay at Bro. Koontz’s house for the past two days. It’s wonderful to see old friends, and Bro. Koontz is no exception. He has been a mentor of mine for several years now, and has given me some exceptional counsel while I’m here.

I’ve also been able to go down and spend some time with Will Fowler, a friend of mine who works at Reformer’s Unanimous. God’s been giving me some important spiritual victories and insights while I”ve been down here with men of God that I’m very close to. Praise the Lord for the people that bring you closer to Him along the way!

As for all of my loyal supporters and prayer warriors out there, my simple message to you is this: The Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord make face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.

Yours for the Harvest,

Robert

P.S. If you ever have a question that you want answered, e-mail me at robert@bimi.org or b877parker@yahoo.com. If your question is interesting enough, I might just post it on here. Thanks again and God bless! Stay warm!

Good morning, Robert

I didn’t expect the wake-up call to happen like this.

Then again, we don’t set the alarm when it comes to God’s wake-up calls, do we?

Is was today. Saturday, Dec. 27th, 2009. I was pretty much finished with my vacation and vacating and heading back to Marshall, Missouri, to be with my fiance’ for a few days before I would head back onto the deputation trail. Thanks for your prayers, by the way. I know they helped in this situation.

I was driving down the snowy highway 80, headed eastbound, listening to an e-book and driving in the left lane. The 18-wheelers drove slow in the right. Caterpillar slow. If you wanted to get to where you were going at any speed faster than 25 mph, you went into the left lane. The only issue with the left is that sometimes the plowed snow, packed in piles by the median, would sometimes flow a little bit over into the lane. But it would usually just hit your left tire a little bit. No big deal.

The speed limit was 75 mph. I was going 70, slower than the speed limit, but faster than the big, crawling semis in the right lane. It had been miles and miles of beautiful snow, all safely plowed to the side, and I didn’t have a problem heading toward the left lane and passing the slow, segmented giants every now and again.

Donner Pass had its slopes and bends, and I had already headed over several previously before I made this special climb. The street seemed to be plowed well, as usual, and there was another semi, one that had two chrome cylinders clanking behind it, dragging along in the right lane. I changed to the left and had the last segment of the truck in my side mirror by the time I reached the top.

It was at the top of this hill that I saw the street in front of me change from black to white. And not a speck of white. A sand bar of white. Like, 300 feet, an entire snow drift  of white. In the left hand lane.

It’s funny, the things that run through your mind when faced with a crisis. I can honestly tell you that the first thing I thought was “How could the snow-plowers forget this whole section?” I put a mental note to call and bug them about it, then realized I had no idea where I was. In the middle of nowhere, really. Probably not even in range of my cell phone. All I usually get is two bars in the cities, even. Thanks, T-mobile! And what about the semi driver? Probably singing along to his favorite song, maybe bluetoothing with his wife or kids. Would this be the end for him too? Why did I try to pass now, at this specific time, at this specific place?

I also thought about Alisha. We didn’t even get to kiss yet! I am six months away from marriage. About twelve months away from Africa, from the orphans in Uganda, from Bryan and Cheri Stensaas and the church plants. If this was it, I’d never see them again.

All this in a matter of seconds, but moments like this don’t fly, they crawl. When I hit the patch of snow, I let my foot off the gas. The car hit the snow and immediately began to slide to the right, into the semi. He honked in confusion and slowed down. I put the pedal to the gas again, straightening out and then swerving to the left. Great, I thought. If I head out now, at least I won’t take anyone with me. My tail was off the street and a good portion into the snow.

300 feet goes pretty fast. As I was drifting to the left, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life, my front wheels caught the asphalt after the snow and jerked my car straight. I was able to purchase new tires for the snow journey these next four months, and Mastercraft, it turns out, is a pretty good brand. The Glacier Grips fishtailed, swerved, and straightened out. My car straightened out.

It took me about 5 minutes to realize that I was actually okay. That the snow hadn’t taken me out. That my life wasn’t over. That I would see another sunset, take another breath. I pulled off at the closest travel stop and prayed a prayer of thanksgiving. But also, a prayer of dedication. To renew my zeal to pursue eternal things and be thankful for what God’s given me. To wake up to the fact that I’m not living for anything down here. I’m living for eternity.

If you’re in America, it just happens…you get caught up in this big message that the world is shouting.  “Buy it while supplies last” or “He who has the most toys wins” or one that Christians sometimes use “You only have one life.” In fact, the thing that should drive us as Christians is that we have TWO lives. The truth is, we do only have one life on this earth…but we have another life. An eternal life. And what we do here on this earth will impact our life in heaven.

In Hebrews 11, it talks about faith. The evidence of things not seen. And then it talks about all the amazing faith-filled things that the saints of old do. In verse number 14, the author (ultimately the Holy Spirit) makes this comment about these extreme Christians… “For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.”

As I sit here the day of that close call, typing this down, I need to ask myself . . . In the past week, did I declare plainly that this world is not my home? Did I live in such a way as to impact eternity? Was I laying up treasures in heaven?

Tonight, today, as you’re reading this, ask yourself this question, and remember that your past actions speak louder than your present words . . . are you seeking a country? Or does God need to give you a wake up call?

Thanks all for your prayers and support. God is blessing! If you want to look at more about Uganda, please check out the other links on our page. God bless!

In Christ,

Robert Parker

P.S. I love you, Alisha and Mom, and Dad, and all of the people that have impacted my life. I don’t ever want to take you for granted. It’s a wonderful life, and God used you all to make it that way!

Fit to give a King

In the lines of the beloved Christmas song “Little Drummer Boy,” the fictional lad tells baby Jesus a timeless truth amidst the par-rum-pum-pums… “Little baby, I am a poor boy too. I have no gift to bring that’s fit to give a King. Shall I play for you on my drum?” The boy, knowing that nothing he has could possibly be worth a monarch, simply does the best with what he has. “I played my drums for Him, I played my best for Him. Then He smiled at me, me and my drum.” And with that small, short, simple display of praise, Jesus was pleased.

That is exactly how I feel, thinking of the Gift of love that came down at Christmas. There is absolutely nothing we could bring that would equal God’s Gift. Our best works are a drop of dew compared to the sea of grace that came down Calvary’s hill. I’m glad God called me to labor in the mission field, but nothing I do will compare to what He’s given me! But here’s the wonderful thought. When we give what we have to Jesus, He is pleased! Our feeble attempts at praise and service please our Savior.

It’s a simple thought, but one that’s been gripping my heart lately. I thought I should share it with you all.

Christmas Blessings

Support Level 27% BIMI Address BIMI Acct. # 1395 P.O. Box 9215 Chattanooga, TN 37412 E-mail robert@bimi.org Phone Number (814) 384-2976 Quote of the Month “Then He smiled at me, parumpumpum… Me and my drum.” Little Drummer Boy

I’ve had steady meetings until the middle of December, and God has increased my support 7% this month! What a joy to go to Bro. Wilkerson’s church in Long Beach, CA and present my ministry there. It’s a thrill to see what God is doing through him. They plan to add on 34 missionaries next year, and we get to be one of those families! Praise the Lord! Thank you for your prayers. It’s also been nice to travel in California during Christmas time and not see an inch of snow on the ground. I’ll be seeing my share when I head out to Illinoise and Pennsylvania for the Spring, so I’ve decided to enjoy my time here.

Another blessing is that I am able to spend Christmas with my family this year. We put up the Christmas tree together, I’m going to string our roof full of lights, and all of our family can celebrate Christmas morning together. Alisha is in Missourri, celebrating Christmas with her “second parents,” Pastor and Diane Raglin, but my present went out in the mail a few days ago and we talk often. It’s wonderful to be loved by someone so lovely! Continue to pray for us as we get the plans together for our Wedding in May.

On behalf of Alisha, myself and my family, I’d like to wish you the merriest, most Christ-centered Christmas you’ve ever had this holiday season. Please keep Uganda in your hearts and prayers as well!

Full Website I finally have my website fully up and running! Check it out at www.uganda4christ.com to receive updates about support, watch my missionary video, and find out more facts about Uganda.

With Love in Christ,

Robert Parker

Prayer Letter October-November

Please fasten your seat belt when starting deputation

September 27-30, I had my first meeting in Sonora, CA. Thank you for your constant prayers! Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of activity. I have slept in hotels, people’s houses, and on church floors. I’ve presented my ministry from Kindergartners to Senior Saints. I’ve set up and torn down my display at least 20 times. I’ve mailed my missionary packet to 250 churches, and called over 350! To say the least, it’s been an exciting ride.

Through all of this, God has allowed me to meet some amazing people during these past two months. Thank you to the pastors and people that encouraged me and promised to pray for Alisha and me as we continue deputation. Your kind words and thoughtful gifts came at the perfect times, and I’m very grateful!

First times

On October 26th, I was able to present my ministry at a church that was having their very first Sunday in their new building! What an encouragement to also be able to personally lead the first soul in that place, Monica, to the Lord! Also, at a new church plant in Cherry Valley, CA, I got to be their first missionary in! It’s a blessing to see God still working powerfully around the nation and a privilege to have had a unique part in the memory and history of a few churches I attended.

Support Level 20% BIMI Address BIMI Acct. # 1395 P.O. Box 9215 Chattanooga, TN 37412 E-mail robert@bimi.org Phone Number (814) 384-2976 Quote of the Month “Shouldn’t everyone have a chance to hear the gospel once before someone hears it twice?” (Unknown)

Thank you for your prayers and support. God is providing! My support level is at 20% for the two and a half months that I’ve been out. God has also been faithfully providing my needs (car expenses, etc.) as the journey continues. I’m firmly convinced that your prayers have an enormous part in the success of these first two months. Please continue to pray for Alisha, myself, and the people of Uganda as the journey continues. Remember, Jesus’ heart was broken for the entire world!

Yours for the Harvest,
Robert Parker