Does the World Really Need More Heroes?

            As everyone who goes to church with me, I was the multimedia guy, the A/V geek, the computer nerd, the lightning rod of hate for everything that goes wrong with anything with a microchip in it. I was the guy who sat in the back and ran the sound and computer. It is not a glamorous job but it is something that needs to be done, I think.

            What I liked about the job was that I got to be the hero on occasion. Every once in a while, someone wanted to add a map of Thessalonica, a picture of the Masada (the fortress, not the gun), or a song they heard on the radio. I would spring into action with my cape flying, using my iPhone to download it, then synching it to the church laptop using my handy-dandy phone synch cord which I kept in my AV accessory belt, formatting it, and then adding it to the presentation with seconds to spare before the start of the service. The not-so tech savvy would be awed at my abilities and technical prowess. “Good thing we have Dave back there. What would we do without him? Who would get us that obscure version of “How Great Thou Art” by El Vez?

            And that is the problem. Instead of fixing the problem by showing them how to do it themselves, I wanted to be the hero for them. I am pretty sure there are quit a few “heroes” running around in our churches, keeping their skills, knowledge, talents, or money to themselves until the last minute so they can save the day with a flourish. What we need instead is the everyday citizen who gives all they have without fanfare or fame because it is those people who seem to have a better understanding of who the real hero of our redemption story is. 

Lost in Translation....almost

           I met Maggie at work while in Pulandian, China. She had come up from Shang Hai to watch our work and write a report for her boss. She told me her real name, her Chinese name, and it was unusually unpronounceable. I asked her why she picked Maggie for an “American” name, she told me she didn’t her boss picked it for her because he couldn’t pronounce her name either.

            We began discussing families, she told me about her parents who both worked in the Chinese aerospace industry but in different aspects. While we were talking, a large military fighter jet roared overhead, returning to the nearby Chinese Air Force base. “My Dad helped design those jets” she told me proudly, as close to boasting her quiet reserve would let her get. I was impressed and tried my best to convey it.

            She asked about my family. I told her about my parents who are both retired teachers. I told her about my brothers and sisters and how the six of us kept my parents busy. I told her about my nieces and nephews, all 9 of them, and how they were an amazingly ethnic cross section. Then I told her about my own children, all six of them. I told her how proud I was of each one of them and how they were each so special to us.

            “You are very rich to have such a large family” she told me.

            “No, not really, I would not say we are rich” I replied, thinking about our middle income household where we do alright, but I wouldn’t consider us to be “rich”.

            “You don’t understand, I think you are very rich to have such a large family,” she repeated.

            “Oh”, shallow me replied, “you are absolutely right. I am very rich to have such a family.” I am rich beyond my wildest dreams. 

Here I raise my Ebenezer...

         I don't think anyone else would call Memphis International Airport an "Ebenezer", except me. To me, each trip through Memphis International (MEM in airport speak) is an emotional walk down memory lane. To me, MEM is a place where I remember the wonder and awesome power of God working in our lives. MEM is a place where I am reminded of the help, comfort, and provision of God.

         In order to explain I have to set the way-back machine to 2006 when our adoption paperwork was done, our dossier was in country, and every day could be "the day" when we would get "the call". As the days and months went by, the thought of our "babies" spending another night in an orphanage became more and more painful.

         During this time I was traveling for work quite a bit. I found myself imagining what the day would be like when we finally brought our babies home from Kazakhstan. When I would land in Memphis I would found myself fighting back the tears of one more arrival home without them. It was always bitter sweet to be home again with my wife and kids, but still missing one piece.

         It was during one of the long walks from the gate to the car when I found out that we did finally get "the call". I remember putting my back up against a pillar in concourse B while I cried. Each trip away brought about another walk from Concourse B to the car. Each walk included an emotional appeal to God, “Please, please, please! Let Your promise finally come to fruition.”

         We did finally get our referral and appointment date. On August 7th, 2009, Jeannie and I walked through MEM on the first leg of our journey to Kazakhstan to meet the two new additions to our family. After two very long months, we returned to Memphis and walked down Concourse B. We choked back the flood of tears while holding tightly to the small hands of Alyosha and Zhenya. We were met by our older kids and a small group of wonderful friends. God had done what He had promised.

         For me, as long as it stands, MEM will be a monument, an Ebenezer, to God's grace and provision in our lives. Maybe when you walk through Memphis International, coming or going, making a connection, you will look at the pillars along Concourse B and be reminded also that God is faithful to do what He promised.

“Then Samuel too a stone and set it up between MIzpah and Shen and called its name Ebenezer (stone of the help), for he said, ‘Till now the Lord has helped us.’”

1 Samuel 7:12 (ESV)