After swimming around for the last couple of days in Paul's second letter to Corinth what was bubbling on the inside needed to come out. The entry below is inspired by 2 Corinthians chapters five and six.

      Photo taken last week in the unreached slums of Kuta:  It starts with one.  

It is because we understand our fearful responsibility to the Lord, we work hard. If we seem crazy, it is solely to bring glory to God where his glory is not known. Christ’s love compels us! He died for everyone, every culture, every nation so that those who receive his new life will no longer live for themselves, pursing a daydream in the midst of reality. Instead, they will live for Him, the visible image of the invisible God, who died and was raised to life again, proving His power to save – yes even from death.  

In everything, we show that we are true followers of Jesus. We patiently endure troubles, hardships and tragedies of every kind. We have worked to the point of exhaustion and endured many sleepless nights carrying His message to the ends of the earth. We prove ourselves by our purity, our understanding, our patience, our kindness, by the Holy Spirit working within us, and most of all by our sincere love. We faithfully preach the truth. God’s power is working in us!

We serve God whether people are proud of us or despise us, whether they slander us or praise us. We live knocking on deaths door, but through His grace are still alive. We have been persecuted but not killed. Our hearts ache…longing for home, our families, our friends, but always have joy knowing we are messengers of life to those who are spiritually dead. We are poor, but we give true riches to others. We own nothing, yet we have everything.  We are His, traveling the unworn path in the pursuit of unreached nations.

Until the whole world knows,

3:50 am Saturday morning:

I groggily rolled out of bed on our day off to make the drive up the coast for an all day surf expedition with one of my missionary friends from South Africa. One of the biggest swells of the season was on its way, racing up through the Indian Ocean from an enormous low pressure system just off the northwestern coast of Australia. The swell was scheduled to hit the black sands of the volcanic island at just about the same time we were. On the drive up the coast we talked about everything from great waves we had surfed in the past to what we felt the Lord was doing on the island now.

As we paddled out across the shallow reef…SLASH, I felt the sting of the razor sharp reef deeply penetrate and divide the skin on the palm of my hand as I down stroked to propel myself forward towards the waves thundering just fifty feet in front of me. Pulling my hand out of the water flashbacks to my tenth grade biology class and the details of the human anatomy vividly played in my head. There was no doubt; the hole in my hand was going to need some serious assistance to remain closed and heal properly.

In typical missionary fashion I wanted to find the most affordable solution to the gnarly gash in my hand. Luckily, Scott, a young missionary from the States was staying at the orphanage Sarah aids, whose extensive “medical” background includes learning how to stitch wounds on dead chickens. Sitting in the hospitality room of the orphanage with dozens of little Indonesian orphans peering over my shoulder Scott closed up my hand with four rudimentary stitches.
 

                                              Homemade stitches unreached nation style.

As I sat there receiving homemade stitches in an orphanage on the streets of Kuta the Lord took me back to a comment I had previously made on the blog entry titled “The Secret Spot” concerning the sharpness of the reef (now I am not so sure this was the smartest comment as I have a living illustration to prove it).  “Navigating my board across dark waters at first light, over reef sharper than any double-edged sword of biblical proportion more often than not, generates an anxious outpouring of adrenaline which runs its course from the inside out.”

In Hebrews 4:12 the writer compares the word of God to a double-edged sword, “For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, IT PENETRATES…”  As the reef had easily penetrated my palm cutting deep into the core of my hand, so the word of God penetrates and cuts deep into any and every facet of our lives that at times may seem to be impenetrable. There is not a situation, circumstance, incident or condition in the natural world or the spiritual realm around us that the word of God cannot pierce to provide relevant insight and supernatural direction.

The truth is His word is alive. Nevertheless, it is our decision to allow it to be active, to allow it to penetrate our problems, our fears, and our shortcomings. Allowing God's word to live in us provides a sustaining light when surrounded by life's seasons of darkness. 

Until the whole world knows,

At one time or another we all suffer tragedy and experience loss. It is at these moments, when faced with death that we begin to think about life and the things that truly matter. I have come to this sober point of reflection after the tragic loss of Api, my two month old puppy, earlier this week. Unfortunately, I had to witness the brutal accident and make the heart wrenching decision to put her to sleep. It has been a painful healing process for me since but everyday the Lord gives me new strength. Although she was just a dog, she was a joy to me and a welcome companion since moving to Indonesia.

   API CLARK 7.10.06 – 9.16.06  Api translates to "FIRE" in Indonesian.

I have gone through a roller coaster of emotions this week. Why did this have to happen? Why didn’t God answer my plea for help? “What if this and what if that?” After a few days of suffering serious confusion, despair, and guilt…I prayed and Jonah 4:9-10 is what I believe the Lord spoke to me.

What the Lord showed me begins with Jonah angry at God for deciding not to destroy Nineveh after the city repented at Jonah’s word from the Lord concerning its impending destruction. After Jonah delivered the word he sat outside of the city waiting to see what God would do. As Jonah waited, God made a plant grow to give him shade from the scorching sun. The plant did not last long, as God sent a worm that destroyed it, leaving Jonah to dehydrate in the sun. After an exchange of heated words from Jonah to God, God replied, “You feel sorry about the plant, though you did nothing to put it there. It came quickly and died quickly. But Nineveh has more that 120,000 people living in spiritual darkness…Shouldn’t I feel sorry for such a great city?”

In the same way that Jonah focused his anger on the loss of the plant, I focused mine on the loss of Api. In our anger we were both in danger of missing the point…the people spiritually lost all around us, the people God has sent us to, the people that he loves.

As I have reflected on the circumstances of this past week and my time advancing the Kingdom in the largest Muslim country in the world, I am reminded of how brief our time is on earth. In Indonesia, hundreds of millions of people are living in spiritual darkness cloaked in the veil of Islam, people who have never had a chance to hear the Good News.

In this place, this situation, this nation I CHOOSE LIFE, not only for me but also for those who have yet to know.

“I will not die and unlived life. I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire. I choose to inhabit my days, to allow my living to open me, to make me less afraid, more accessible, to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise. I choose to risk my significance; to live so that which comes to me as seed goes to the next as blossom and that which comes to me as blossom, goes on as fruit.” – Dawna Markova

Until the Whole World Knows,

Sarah Clark.

As the early morning rays of the sun skulked through the clouds rolling off Mt. Agung, an active 10,000 foot volcano taking up the majority of the eastern skyline, I paddled out alone into the ocean. Navigating my board across dark waters at first light, over reef sharper than any double-edged sword of biblical proportion more often than not, generates an anxious outpouring of adrenaline which runs its course from the inside out (this especially occurs when ten-foot plus waves are thundering across the shallow face of the reef, seemingly punishing it for its interference with their purposed route to the shore). Nevertheless, saturated in adrenaline, I crossed the impact zone and successfully reached one of the last secret surfing spots left on the island. 

                                      one of my favorites | somewhere in Indo

There is something beautiful about a secret spot. An undiscovered wave that remains virgin in every intonation of the word.  No distractions, diversions or commercial adulterations occur in a spot quietly secluded from the crowds.  It is in the secret spot where intimacy is fostered between the wave and its rider.

Jesus knew the importance of a secret spot, a place of personal retreat and intimate connection with his Father. On more than a few scriptural occasions Jesus withdrew from the commotion of the crowds and the demands of his disciples to revitalize and recharge from the inside out.

Discovering daily the significance of a secret spot, a place tucked away from the routine influence and hustle of life; unspoiled and uninterrupted where intimate connection with Jesus is established is one of the greatest life-impacting discoveries we can personally make.  All of our “secret spots” are going to look different, for some it might be a closet in a bedroom, for others it might be tucked away in their office behind closed doors. Nevertheless of the geographic location, the power of His presence is always the secret to the spot. 

Tomorrow Sarah and I are flying to Lombok, a small Muslim island to the east of Bali. While the purpose of our visit is not to retreat or recharge it is in the survey of a “spot” that has remained secret and unreached by the Kingdom until recently. We are connecting with an indigenous church plant that has had tremendous effect with the Sasak people group and are praying about the viability of the location for a long-term work. Please keep us in prayer. We will be out of touch until we return to Bali later next week.   

 Until the whole world konws,

The following images are a reflection of our week. Please step into our office.  

Welcome to the unreached slums of Banjar Penyahitan. The above photo is where Sarah spends her time with the children who call the street their home.  

This little dude is a handful...litterally.  Spending most of his time working the streets he shows up everytime Sarah hits the ghetto for some extra special love and attention.

A mother and baby from the "neighborhood" watching the children learn praise and worship songs.

Children of Banjar Penyahitan learning about Jesus through praise and worship.

     Street life is tough. And life here begins early.

Sarah passing out some goodies after the day's english lessons.

These two guys were having a blast with games designed to shatter the "I don't know you and why are you here" ice.

This love starved girl quickly finds her fill in Sarah's arms.

Sarah turned 23 last Thursday! We celebrated at a really cool place on the beach, ate an amazing dinner and watched the sun slip below the deep blue horizon of the Indian Ocean.  For everyone that called and sent emails, thank you! You helped make her day seriously special, as we are about as far as you can geographically, culturally, and socially get from home.

I guess that's it for this week. I have been working non-stop on research and writting for  a vision that is burning a whole in my heart. It is conceived from a desire to establish self-supporting mission bases in limited access nations through creating contextualized commercial real-estate developments. The model is insane and provides multifaceted drivers catalyzing social, spiritual and financial transformation to developing regions, and thus, honestly, my energy to write this week was dramatically lacking. Pictures are cool.

Until the whole world knows,

Surrounded, I could not help but wonder if the Jihad suicide bombers that blew up the nightclub killing over 200 people and wounding many more in 2002 had once worshiped in this mosque conveniently situated less than three minutes away from the site of the attack. Or perhaps, the multiple suicide strikes launched last October, targeting and killing western families had been devised and launched from this mosque?

Nevertheless, it did not exactly matter as I starred into the scorching eyes of the Imam (religious leader of the Mosque) surrounded by surprisingly radicalized Muslims in silent confrontation. With the signature practiced and perfected “angry Islamic leader scowl” wrinkling his face he asked me many questions trying to discern my agenda. In the onslaught of interrogation there was one question that left his lips with distinct governance and soul piercing agenda…. “Are you a Christian?”  

Before my grand inquisition with the top-dog I ventured into the massive Middle Eastern inspired structure with one goal…to establish first contact with one of the devout patrons within. With a weeks worth of growth on my face combined with my dark skin, I was readily welcomed with the standard Muslim greeting.

Abdul, a devout Muslim from the Indonesian islands of Suluwesi quickly gravitated towards me as I was obviously a new face in the Mosque. We proceeded to engage in an extended conversation with the standard “get to know you” questions. As the conversation matured we moved passed the smooth surface of polite chit chat to the deeper waters that drive the hearts of men. 

With sincerity of concern Abdul asked, “Drew is your wife Muslim?”  I responded, “No Abdul, my wife is not Muslim.” Leaning towards me Abdul increased the sternness of his voice and in masculine passion responded, “You must be strong with her. Force her to become Muslim!”

Conversing with Abdul, I could strongly sense the brotherhood, passion, unity, purpose and agenda coursing through the mosque amongst its subscribers. There was substance.  However, there was a critical something I did not feel, not even remotely. Where was love? No, love was not present. Not even the ridiculously gut wrenching, Sunday morning smile and pat your neighbor on the back sitting next to you in church sort of “love.”

Abdul is the one smiling on the far right.  

In the middle of the night early in the first-century Jesus revealed the fundamental core of God’s nature to a spiritual leader of the Jewish people afraid to be seen with him during the day. Jesus told a confused Nicodemus, “God so loved…” (John 3:16).  In his purest essence, at the core of his eternal nature, the motive of all his other omnipotent attributes is the engine of love… He is loves founder, its designer, the original author. God is love.

There are many religions in the world and to go along with them, impressively religious people; Paul even spoke about people in the church able to fathom all knowledge, people holding tremendous prophetic gifting and others having the type of faith that repositions mountains. He said despite all the gifting, ability, leadership capacity, position in ministry blah, blah, blah…without love, they are nothing (1 Cor. 13).

Jesus’ closet friend, confidante, and apostolic leader of the first-century church wrote this, “Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love” (1 John 4:7-8).

Surrounded by radicalized Muslims in the most populous Muslim nation in the world, minutes from targets blown up by Jihad suicide bombers and starring into the Imam’s storm of rage boiling just below the surface, the question again pierced my soul, “Are you a Christian?”  Listening to the sound of my own heartbeat, I calmly responded, “No, I am not a Christian.”

“I am a follower of Jesus.”

Until the whole world knows,

Man, I can’t believe it has been a week since I last updated the blog. Time seems to stand still and move forward at an accelerated pace here in harmonious simultaneity. I know that sounds impossible…maybe it’s simply third-world culture or the mystical nature of this island, or perhaps that Sarah and I have been ridiculously busy for the last seven days.

Sarah in the arena.

Sarah has been aiding an orphanage we are connected to and working with the staff teaching street kids English. I have been working on research and writing a proposal for building a critically contextualized mission base here on the island. While digging through some archived files on my computer during a research session I came across this quote. I used to read it often when I was launching Fluid’s first mission teams into some of the most dangerous and unreached nations of the world at age 23. The establishment said I was too young. The odds seemed insurmountable but passion and calling drove me forward.

"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly...who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who have never known neither victory nor defeat." - Teddy Roosevelt

The unbridled passion, conviction and resilient fortitude emanating from Roosevelt’s core as he made this statement, grips my soul with intensity. Men and women of action committed to something greater than themselves can identify with the raw integrity of Roosevelt’s position.

Again, I face what seem to be impossible odds, a nation saturated in Islamic ideology, the indifferent fatalistic attitude of the third-word, rampant educational, financial and moral poverty and the unbelievable lack of resources to do anything about it. In this, I am not afraid to fail. What does terrify me is lying in my bed fifty years from now and being one of the cold and timid souls Roosevelt spoke of who never truly lived.

As Sarah says, “We are on a great adventure with God.” Serving Jesus is going to look different in every one of our lives. We are not all called to serve in the largest Islamic nation per capita in the world. For you, your “great adventure with God” may be raising a family, building a business, or volunteering at your local church. Despite our different callings one thing remains the same, following Jesus will lead you into the arena. What you do when you get there… now that is what counts – Luke 1:37.

Until the whole world knows,

Sitting tonight at my desk in our bedroom with a cool breeze blowing through the open windows, the exotic sounds of Balinese woodwind instruments are floating across the rice fields from a close by temple and filling our room.  Listening to the soothing melodies played on ancient ceremonial instruments there is one word cluster I can not seem to get out of my head…“misappropriation of resources.” The thought has been haunting me all day.

In my country of origin there seems to be three to four churches on every block all advertising what the latest sermon series is for the weekend. It’s like an all you can eat buffet, if you don’t like what one is serving up on Sunday just stroll on over to the next and fill your plate.  

Where Sarah and I live it is possible to travel all day without once coming across a church. There are no multimillion dollar building projects, six digit advertising budgets, or crazy televangelists raving on TV ( I am seriously thankful about the latter J ).  There are literally tens of millions of people who have never had a chance to hear the Good News, experience the joy of worship, or receive the deep inner peace of personal forgiveness that only comes through Jesus.

Jesus addressed this problem just before he appointed and sent out the seventy-two disciples to proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom in Luke 10. Jesus told his crew, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.” In other words, there is a lot of work to be done and not enough people willing to do it.

After taking the gospel to more than a dozen of the world’s most hostile countries, I have never experienced the gravity of this statement in such a deep way.  Living in the middle of the need I can actually begin to comprehend its enormity. It has ceased to be an infomercial asking for thirty dollars a month to feed starving children in Africa drowned out by MTVor a motivational sermon about reaching the world forgotten over lunch after church, but a statement made by Jesus that has blazed off the pages of my bible and into tangible reality.

There is so much to be done in the under-reached nations of the world. The good news is there ARE enough resources (human and financial) to adequately complete the task that has been commissioned to the church by its Leader. The bad news is the resources are disproportioned and need to be re-allocated. The best news is Jesus gave us a tremendous insight on how to do just that… “Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”

Yeah, yeah I know, it’s the same old sob story that we have all heard a thousand times… or is it?

"Answering a student's question, 'Will the people who have not heard the Gospel be saved?' Thus, 'It is more a question with me whether we, who have the Gospel and fail to give it to those who have not, can be saved."  CHARLES SPURGEON – THE GREATEST PREACHER OF THE 18TH CENTURY.  

Until the whole world knows,

Five days last week were dedicated to mapping out and exploring the undeveloped east coast. Historically, the infrastructure to easily reach it has not been in place but in the last couple of months a new major road has opened unlocking an efficient route to reach previously untouched areas. I am not sure what it is about the east coast that captivates me, maybe it is the pristine beauty, the volcanic cloud covered mountains, or that there is not a known church anywhere in the immediate vicinity of the region.  

          On the "road" near a fishing village exploring the East Coast. 

Other missionaries, on the island strongly believe the south of Bali is where it is all happening. Nevertheless, my heart continues to be drawn to the remoteness of the east. Someone has to go and tell them the News that they have not yet heard…not even once. I am not sure if it will be Sarah and I, but before I went to sleep last night the Lord bombed this scripture on me.   

“Then the man brought me to the gate facing east, and I saw the glory of the God of Israel coming from the east. His voice was like the roar of rushing waters and the land was radiant with his glory.” – Ezekiel 43:1-2

          Fisherman coming in from the mornings work.

 Please take a few seconds right now and pray this prayer:

“Lord Jesus, I ask you to open the east gates that have remained closed allowing your glory to flood the nation of Indonesia through eastern Bali. May your Kingdom come and your light dawn on the people living where your truth is not known and your word is not heard. Send your workers into this area to proclaim freedom to the captives, to give sight to those who are blind, and to establish your church where it does not yet exist.”   

Until the whole world knows,

After returning to base camp and completing the long journey inland from a foreword ministry outpost in the back of an open cargo truck, roaring up and down what seemed to be the impossibly steep roads of Nusa Penida, I was more than ready to be done with the day. Sitting in front of my bunk, I could sense a subsurface buzz stirring through the camp. Hungry from the long days work I ventured back to the cooking area to see what was for dinner. To my unpleasant surprise there it was in all of its former glory, the gift of a village chief…dinner. This one was not going to the dogs, it was a dog!

After my hopes for a delicious meal to end the day came abysmally crashing down, there He was again whispering to my heart. At that moment I realized for the last two-thousand years His sent ones, aka missionaries, have been dealing with this cultural issue.  

“The Lord appointed seventy-two and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town and place he was about to go. He told them…“stay in that house eating and drinking whatever they give you…when you enter a town and are welcomed, eat what is set before you.”  Luke 10:1-9 (paraphrased)

It is all part of the package, you may have to read the fine print to find it but nevertheless...it is there. When Jesus said, "whatever" he ment WHATEVER.

Unpacking the historical and cultural significance of this command gives us a tremendous insight into the missional non-religious heart of God. Crossing the massive canyon of culture on a bridge named “incarnation” and identifying on every level with the people one is trying to reach, no matter how uncomfortable it may be, is the model of the Master. Bon Appetite!   

WARNING: THESE PICTURES ARE GRAPHIC. IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH DO NOT INGEST.

The traditional way of preparing dog in Indonesia. Light the whole thing up and remove the hair, skin, and fat by fire.

 After the dog has passed through the fire it is ready to be prepared for stewing in a pot for several hours.

The finished entree on the plate and in the mouth! Oh yeah...sooo good. For those of you wondering, yes, Sarah did chow down! 

Until the whole world knows,