The Doppelgänger

Day 93--When your name is Bas and you live in the U.S., it's not often that you meet your doppelgänger, someone who has your name.

But, when we stopped in Dallas to visit our friends John and Linda, we met one of their grandsons, Sebastian, a bright and cheerful 8-year-old boy who goes by the name Bas.

So, there he was, my little doppelgänger.

We had a lot of fun with two guys named Bas in the same house. I just liked calling him Bas as often as I could because I almost never have that opportunity. And, when his mom called for him, she laughed when two of us responded.

I'm pretty proud of my doppelgänger. He's inquisitive, creative, smart, good-natured, optimistic, outgoing. Just what I figured someone named Bas should be.

We also were very grateful for the time we had with Bas' grandparents, John and Linda. We first met John in a choir in college. We have stayed in touch but haven't seen John and his wife, Linda, for more than 20 years. 

John served as a Reformed Church pastor in three New York churches: in Manhattan, in Queens, and in Ellensville. They later moved to Holland, Michigan, where John was a chaplain at Holland Hospital. Because Lynn's mom lives in Holland, we also visited John and Linda and their four children during our visits to Holland. 

For more than 20 years John and Linda have lived in the Dallas area. Linda has taught English as well as English as a second language to both children and adults. John has served as senior chaplain for a system of 14 hospitals where he has trained and engaged hundreds of local pastors as "attending clergy."

One of the hospitals John works in was recently the site of the first diagnosed case of Ebola in the United States. Unfortunately, the patient died. Even though it was an understandably tense time for the hospital and even though the media were not always kind, John felt that the hospital did an outstanding job of handling not only the initial patient but also the two nurses who contracted Ebola from him. 

Before dinner John took us to the Trinity River Corridor to view the Dallas skyline behind a stunning new bridge designed by Santiago Calatrava. 

When we returned, John and Linda's daughter, Jessica, and her two children were at the house. She and her family live just across the street from her parents, which makes it easy for the three generations to be together.



We had a great night with these dear friends whom we have known for most of our lives. As we reflected on God's goodness over the years and talked with excitement about the possibilities ahead, we experienced again the passion, faith, and vision that drew us together more than 48 years ago and that continues to unite our hearts today.

Nine Years after Katrina

Several months after Hurricane Katrina slammed into the Gulf Coast, we drove along the Mississippi coast, surveying the damage: Moss Point, Pascagoula, Gauthier, Ocean Springs, Biloxi, Gulfport, Pass Christian, Bay St. Louis, Waveland.



Nine years later, we drove down the same coastal highway. We saw many signs of hope and restoration: new homes (some built on stilt pilings), public buildings restored.



But we were surprised also by the gaping holes. For example, all that remains of the historic 1895 Brielmaier House, which once served as the Biloxi tourist center, is a plaque that reminds people where the house once stood. That scene is repeated in town after town.






In some places the coast felt like a graveyard of abandoned foundations.





We stopped in Bay St. Louis to remember the selfless service of a small Presbyterian Church that turned its facility into a disaster-response center, where hundreds of church groups came from all over the country to help the people of Bay St. Louis. When we visited the church nine years ago, we heard stories of God's miraculous provision to the people served as well as the people serving.



We also traveled to the New Orleans area and visited the many parishes and neighborhoods where, for three years, volunteer teams sent by Northwest Medical Teams helped families tear out water-damaged sheet rock and floors.

We drove through neighborhoods where the storm surge had breached canal walls and flooded homes with 17 feet of water, which did not recede for a month. We drove through the Lower Ninth Ward, one of the poorest areas of New Orleans, where many houses still stand untouched since the hurricane.







Some houses still had the X-code on the front. This code, sprayed on the house by the initial search-and-rescue team, communicated several pieces of important information:

--The top number indicated the date of the initial search.
--The information on the left indicated which agency did the search-and-rescue.
--The number on the bottom indicated the number of casualties found in the house.
--The information on the right could indicate a variety of things, including hazards found in the house.



As a boy, Alex, our New Orleans response director, had lived in the lower ninth ward in a house that his father had built. We drove by the vacant lot where it had stood before it had been destroyed by the hurricane.nine years ago.

We also stopped in front of several houses that our teams had helped to restore.



We saw other houses being built on stilt pilings.



Over a three-year period Medical Teams sent hundreds of volunteer teams to bring hope by cleaning out and rebuilding damaged houses. Other teams worked with churches to train counselors who helped people needing restoration from trauma and despair. One of these churches trained several thousand counselors who continue to touch the lives of countless people today.

Nine years later, the impact of Hurricane Katrina remains evident. It's clear that more needs to be done. But, it's also clear that our volunteer teams truly made a huge difference. 

They not only restored homes, they also restored hearts. That impact continues to be felt even today -- nine years later.. 

The Worst of Times; The Best of Times

Alex readily admits that Hurricane Katrina was one of the worst experiences of his life, but the aftermath was one of the best times for him and his family

Alex led the response of what was then Northwest Medical Teams to the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. He lost his job as a result of the hurricane. Connections with church leaders in the area led him to us. Over the next three years, Alex coordinated the volunteer teams that came every two weeks to help with the response, working with ministry leaders throughout the New Orleans area.

As the leader of our New Orleans response effort, Alex saw devastation that was beyond description. He heard many heartrending personal stories. But he also saw incredible miracles as God provided people, supplies, and funds in remarkable ways over the years.

When we asked Alex how he was doing nine years after the disaster, he paused and said, "Those were hard years for many of us, but they were also good years."

His answer surprised us. "Good years?" We recalled that Alex and Rosa's own house was damaged by the hurricane. For nearly a year and a half, they could not use the first floor of their home, which was severely water damaged. They cooked on a Coleman stove in the bedrooms on the second floor of their house. They were a family in need.

However, they didn't focus on what they had lost. They focused on what they had gained. 

They were able to focus on doing what they could to help others in need. They also were encouraged by the volunteers who came to New Orleans--some of them several times--to help elderly people, to share with people who had no resources to rebuild, to comfort and counsel people who were incapacitated by the trauma of the disaster.

Over these years, Alex and his family saw faith and compassion in action. It shaped Alex and Rosa. And it also shaped their children, Alex and Victoria. Several years ago, Alex's school created a new award, a character award, because one student's quiet thoughtfulness and compassion for others was so evident to the faculty and staff. That student was young Alex.

Before we left, Alex cooked us a good southern breakfast--eggs, grits, biscuits, bacon. The hurricane damage to their first floor has been repaired. They no longer have to cook on the camp stove in a bedroom. 

That's true for their lives as well. While the impact of Hurricane Katrina continues in this family, it continues not in loss and suffering but in hearts filled with compassion, in their continuing efforts to serve others, and in their commitment to their church and their community.

Disasters certainly are the worst of times for those affected, but with God's grace and blessing, they can also become the best of times for people who focus on others and do what they can to help make a difference.

What Are We Going to Do?

We first met Sharon and Thomas nine years ago, when Medical Teams International responded to Hurricane Katrina.

They live in the city of Moss Point, near the Gulf Coast. Katrina ravaged their community, sending a storm surge of more than 20 feet into large parts of the city. Sharon and Thomas immediately joined with others at their church to help those who were affected.

God led us to Sharon, a strong Christian and natural leader with very deep ties to her community. Sharon agreed to direct our Hurricane Katrina response efforts in Mississippi. She worked with local churches and community leaders to identify people who needed help but who had fallen through the cracks of the formal response system. We sent volunteer teams to help clean out and rebuild the homes of these people, working in partnership with local plumbers, electricians, and carpenters. Thomas, who knew a number of construction skills, helped with technical assistance and project management.

Disasters like Katrina have a terrible impact on the lives of thousands of families. But, they also often connect us with wonderful local believers who are filled with compassion and doing all they can to help, often at great personal sacrifice. In the course of responding to the disaster, these people become good friends.

That was true of our relationship with Sharon and Thomas. We got to know their kids and extended family, sharing personal needs and praying for each other. They introduced us to wonderful southern food like sweet potato pie. We invited them to come to the Northwest where we introduced them to sushi and grilled oysters (with mixed success.)

So, when we knew we would be traveling through Mississippi on our way back to Oregon, we knew could not drive through the state without stopping to see Sharon and Thomas, who invited us to stay with them at their home in Moss Point.

As we sat down in their gracious dining room to a great dinner of fried shrimp and southern vegetables, we talked about all that had happened since we had seen each other—answers to prayers for family members who had been very sick, new grandchildren, Thomas’ retirement, their staff recruitment company, their church, politics in the town, their son’s need for a new kidney.

Along the way, we learned that Thomas had volunteered his time for more than 30 years as a baseball coach for young boys aged 9-12 years old in the area. This team had recently won the state championship for their age group.

Over the years, Thomas has coached hundreds of boys. As a result, he cannot go anywhere in town without being recognized and greeted. Everyone in town knows and respects Thomas.

As Thomas talked about his coaching experience, he confessed that he was thinking of stepping down as a baseball coach. “I’m tired,” he said.

We asked him why he was tired, and he responded, “It’s a different time and a new day. Boys today often don’t respect people in authority. It’s a constant struggle to get them to follow direction. And, when they don’t do so, there aren’t many alternatives that help to promote discipline.”

From there, the discussion went on to the realities facing a large number of African-American men today. Many come from single-parent homes where the father was not present. They have not learned skills at school. There is very little work available in the community. As a result, they turn to drugs and alcohol and hanging out on street corners.

When they father children, they find themselves unable to support their families because they cannot get work. So, they leave these families, starting a second generation of single-parent families. This vicious cycle then leads to the young boys who show up to play baseball on the teams that Thomas coaches. These boys often have no role models of effective male authority figures in their lives. They often have very little self-discipline or respect for authority.

“What are you going to do?” asked Thomas as he reflected on this situation. One answer is increased opportunity for employment, but this will require skills, a work ethic, and good work habits. And, even then, there are the enormous obstacles of the disappearance of jobs overseas or to automation here at home.

“What are you going to do?” We talked about improving the schools in the area, but this will take political leadership. Unfortunately, local politicians are struggling with competence and corruption.

“What are you going to do?” We talked about efforts to elect better leaders. While both Sharon and Thomas are involved in efforts to improve the quality of political leaders in their community, it is clearly a long, uphill battle with more than its fair share of setbacks and disappointments.

‘What are you going to do?” We talked about what the church could do, but had to face the fact that many of these young men had lost faith in the church and no longer attended.

“What are you going to do?” We talked about how increasing numbers of black men are winding up in prison for drug crimes, leading to the sad fact that one of the only growth industries in Mississippi today seems to be the prisons because dramatically increasing numbers of African-American men are being sent there by the criminal justice system.

“What are you going to do?” asked Thomas. “A generation of young African-American men is growing up without hope, with no fathers, with no opportunity to work, standing on the streets, vulnerable to drugs and alcohol.”

He looked at us. “Do you really want to hear this?” When we nodded yes, he went on,” I’m afraid that some day we won’t be able to contain this anymore. What we’re seeing in Jefferson, Missouri, is just the tip of the iceberg. I’m afraid that someday we won’t be able to contain this anymore.”

There are no easy answers to Thomas’ question.

Of course, political involvement to support leaders and policies that will provide opportunities to those who want to work but who are unemployed. 

Of course, a greater sharing of resources and wealth in our society. 

Of course, improvements in schools. 

Of course, more honest and compassionate ministry and outreach by churches. 

Of course, involvement in youth sports programs because sports seems to be one of the few ways to reach young men these days. 

Of course, efforts to develop and train young leaders living in communities where poverty, unemployment and drug use is destroying families.

Of course, prayer because only God can transform hearts.

“Even so,” Thomas wondered, “it may already be too late.” Too late to stop the forces leading to decline and destruction.

Thomas’ question kept me awake that night and has not let me go since. “What are we going to do?” Or, more importantly, “What am I going to do.?

We are determined to answer that question for ourselves. And, our answer to that question will probably help to define how we spend our time in our retirement years ahead.

Generations of Faithfulness

While we were in central Florida, we stopped in to see Evelyn and her daughter Connie and son-in-law Gary.

EVELYN has been a missionary all of her life. She grew up in the Middle East, where her parents were missionaries to Arabic-speaking people. She recalls traveling with her father on camelback as he served as an evangelist to Bedouin groups in their desert tents.

With her husband, Grady, Evelyn served as missionaries in Vietnam.They were in Vietnam during the war between North and South Vietnam, a time when some of the missionaries who served with them were killed. Their love for the Vietnamese people ran deep. When they returned to the States, they launched a refugee-resettlement program in the U.S. for World Relief. This program has helped to resettle more than 250,000 refugees from more than 80 countries--and it still continues today.

Each of Evelyn's four children have served as missionaries or as church leaders, and now many of her grandchildren--a fourth generation--are serving in ministry.

We first met Grady and Evelyn when we were moving to Wheaton for Bas to begin his work with World Relief. We lived with them while we were looking for housing and had a wonderful glimpse of their lives. A few years later, when Grady retired, Bas was asked to take Grady's place as the vice president for international ministries. Evelyn became an important mentor for Lynn when Bas started traveling internationally.

Now in her nineties, Evelyn is still a missionary. She speaks regularly about her missionary experience in area churches. When she encounters someone who speaks Vietnamese or Arabic, she immediately starts to speak to them in their own language.

When Evelyn learned that the man giving her a manicure was from the tribal area where Grady and she served in Vietnam, she talked with him in his own tribal language. She invited him to her church. He confessed that he was lonely because he did not know other people from his tribal group. Evelyn told him about a North Carolina church that many people from his tribe attended. He decided to move there and recently phoned Evelyn--he calls her “Mother"--to tell her that he had been able to arrange for his wife and child to join him from Vietnam and that he had decided to study to become a pastor to his people.

When Evelyn encounters Arabic women at the mall near her, she speaks Arabic to them. The women weep because they have suffered much abuse and antagonism for their ethnic background. Evelyn reaches out to them and loves them.

At a recent denominational meeting, Evelyn heard women singing in Arabic. She recognized the songs and joined in the singing. Later, a number of these women told Evelyn that the Lord had used her father to lead their fathers and uncles to faith.

Several years ago, Grady died. While Evelyn is in good health, her vision has deteriorated over the years due to macular degeneration. This past year, Connie and Gary retired from World Relief and moved to Kissimmee to help Evelyn. All three live together in the same house.

CONNIE AND GARY
When we first met Connie and Gary, they were missionaries in Indonesia and were spending their furlough in Wheaton, where we lived. We attended the same church and got to know each other's families. Bas and Gary served on church boards. Our older children attended youth group together. We became good friends.

Their youngest child, Ryan, had severe learning disabilities that made it very difficult for him in school. Recognizing that these disabilities could not be adequately addressed at the mission school their children had attended in Asia, Connie and Gary made the agonizing decision not to return to Indonesia as missionaries. Connie began working at a World Relief, walking in the footsteps of her father.



A gifted communicator, Connie quickly took on increased responsibilities and ultimately assumed key major-donor fundraising responsibilities with World Relief. After the South Asia tsunami, Gary joined the staff of World Relief to help with the response in Indonesia. Later, Gary led efforts to strengthen World Relief’s relationships with churches in the field and in the U.S. A few days before we arrived at her home, Connie retired from World Relief, after 25 years of distinguished service.

We had delightful and sometime teary conversations about God's faithfulness in the years since we had last been together. When we asked about Ryan, Connie and Gary told us about the dedicated teachers who had patiently worked with and encouraged Ryan through difficult school years. He was able not only to attend college, but also to thrive there. He now is the Director of Special Education for an entire school district. He now encourages parents whose children are struggling as he had. He now hugs struggling students and tells them that he knows how they feel--and that they will make it.

God is indeed faithful and good. We marveled at His work through the four generations of this family that has given themselves to His service.

A Study in Faith and Courage

Missionary. Pilot. Prisoner of war. Business man. Writer. Entrepreneur. Lover of God. 

These and many more words and phrases describe Randall's active and productive life of 96 years.

We first knew Randall when he directed World Relief's Asia programs. Then, after he and Dorothy moved to Vancouver, Washington, near Portland, we connected again. Now he and Dorothy live at Alliance Community, in Deland, Florida, where Dorothy receives the nursing care she needs after an accident plunged her into a deep debilitation.

Every day Randall lovingly spends time with his wife, trusting that--even though she is unresponsive--she hears his words, hears him read Bible passages to her, hears the music he chooses for her, hears his prayers for her. Randall's love for Dorothy is tender, constant, and extravagant. Every day, at lunch and dinner, he feeds her. Every day, he prays for her to be healed. In the end, he trusts God's goodness and faithfulness. He rests in God's unfailing love.

After we spent time together with Dorothy, Randall got on his scooter and led us to the dining room near his two-room apartment on the grounds of the Alliance Community. We had a great lunch together as his guests.

After lunch together, we went to Randall's apartment. As we sat on a couch in his living room, Randall got out a list he had prepared before our visit of things he wanted to talk about or give to us: "How is _____? How are Matt and Alisa? I'd like you to have this commentary on Ephesians. It is the best I've ever read. The author was a student in my mother's Sunday school class. You will enjoy this journal from the Center for World Missions. Here, take it with you. I finally finished my book about my internment. I called it "In Imperial Custody." Here is a copy for you to take with you. Oh, and this is the devotional book I talked about at lunch. I so appreciate the deep thoughts that are expressed each day. Here, I have an extra copy. Please take it with you. And one last thing. You know how I've always loved business cards. This is my current one. It has all of the logos of the places I've worked [pictured below without the personal contact information]."

At 96 years old, Randall still drives to the store to get personal items for Dorothy and for himself. His days are full of activities, connecting with others, prayer. "I don't have enough time for all the things I want to do," he tells us with a sparkle in his eye.

Before we left Randall's apartment, the three of us prayed together for Dorothy and for each other. Then, one more time, we looked at a photo that a friend created as a constant reminder of Christ's love for Dorothy. The caption on the back of the photo reads: "My Savior. My Lord. My God. I worship you."

The Gullah People

While we were in South Carolina, we visited Boone Hall, a plantation founded in 1681 that is still a working farm today.We decided to visit a plantation because we wanted to learn about life in the South before the Civil War. 

We drove to the Boone Hall mansion on a road flanked by towering live oak trees and Spanish moss.



While the exterior of the mansion is impressive, we realized early on that the mansion itself is not the focus of a visit to this plantation. It was built in the 1930s. A tour of the first floor shows some of the design and décor of the building but gives very little insight into life on the plantation in pre-Civil War days.



But, it’s not the inside of the mansion that makes a tour of Boone Hall so interesting—it’s what’s outside the mansion.

Along the “Avenue of the Oaks” on the way to the mansion, are a number of very simple, small brick buildings. Twenty-seven of these homes were built between 1790 and 1810. Nine homes still remain. Before the Civil War, these were the homes of slaves who worked in the mansion and around the property. Only select slaves lived near the mansion. The others lived in wooden shacks near the fields. 

Each of these homes, built from bricks made by slaves on the plantation, consisted of two rooms: a bedroom and a kitchen. Many of the homes had displays about the life of the slaves on the plantation. The first house was the "Praise House," depicting the worship life of the slaves.

As we moved through the homes, the content of the displays changed from slave life on the plantation to the struggle for equality and civil rights for African Americans in the U.S. 

Displays outlined key events and important personalities in this struggle, winding up with the election of Barack Obama, the first African American president whose wife is the direct descendent of slaves who had worked in a plantation nearby.

While the tour of the slave homes was sobering and informative, the highlight of our visit to the plantation was a presentation on the Gullah people by an African American woman who is a descendent of slaves who lived and worked at Boone Hall.

We had not known much about the Gullah people before our visit. We learned that they lived and still live in tight-knit communities in various sections of the Atlantic coast in the South.

The Gullah people speak their own language, which could be viewed as a Creole version of English with intonations that sound very African. During the days of slavery, this enabled them to talk with each other in ways that could not be understood by the owners.

Gullah people also prepare their own foods, often using spices that came from their African roots. In fact, “Gullah” is actually a version of “Angolan,” a reference to one of the countries from which the Gullah people were captured and taken to the U.S.

Despite the hardships and suffering of slavery, the Gullah people developed a rich life where they cared for each other, prayed for each other, comforted each other, and supported each other.

Their music, crafts, stories, history, and food continues to demonstrate this rich legacy of hope and faith today.



This was not the story we expected to learn when we visited a plantation. But, it was a warm, rich story that encouraged and touched us in surprising ways while we were at the plantation--and the days since our visit.