Monday, January 03, 2005

Vicarous Mongolian BBQ

Here is an edited copy of my favorite "Christmas Letter" received this season. It is from my brother-in-law who is a medical doctor who has invested part of his vacation time for several years in short term mission to Mongolia. He is "champion" as we say in Oz and I was really encouraged by this simple "journal" of his adventure. Because of the length of the story I will publish it in several segments (and I have even been promised a few photos!)

"My trip to Mongolia was truly a God-focused adventure for me, but far too much to put in a Christmas letter. There was truly a lesson every day for me. For example, the first day in country, we were in the capital city Ulaanbaatar. We flew in, quickly checked into our hotel, then went out as a group (22 of us in 3 microbuses) to see the Museum of Mongolian History. The microbuses left, scheduled to come back to pick us up at 4:45. We got out of the museum at 3:45, and with an hour to kill, the group decided to walk in the big city square down the block.

My knee was hurting (I had some torn cartilage), so I stated (apparently to no one) that I would wait at the museum for the buses. I knew I had been left behind when 5:30 rolled around, and not one person had returned, nor the buses. The microbuses apparently saw the group over on the square, picked them up there, and with 22 strangers in 3 buses, no one realized that one person was missing. And they did not realize it until 8:30 that night, as they were finishing dinner.

When I began to suspect by 5:30 that I had been left behind, the sun was setting, it was cold (about 15 degrees F), and I was in a city of 750,000 speaking a language I knew all of 3 words (thank you, hello, and yes). I did not know the name of our hotel, and I had no phone numbers to call. I had no way of contacting anyone I knew in that city, or of asking for directions to anywhere. I did not even know where I was supposed to be. I began to pray, knowing that I was completely dependent upon God to work things out.


By 6:30 I was starting to get anxious about it; I was thanking God that I was the one left behind, because I was one of two people that had been there before, and therefore a little less likely to panic. But I was also asking His forgiveness, that I was not trusting enough of God to avoid being anxious. That may be a harsh judgment, but I firmly believe that if I totally trusted He would work things out, as I have seen Him do so many times before, then I should have had no anxiety, but rather a wonderment and excitement to see how He would do it. The latter would have been very appropriate.

Three Americans came walking by as I was praying, and my first thought was to say nothing, because without a hotel name or phone number, what were they going to do? Perhaps it would be better to wait for someone to realize I was missing, and come driving back to find me along the original path. But God immediately called to my mind the old joke of someone praying for help from God, turning down a car/boat/helicopter, then asking God why He did not help, to which God replied He had sent those three vehicles (the joke is funnier when told right).


Anyway, I realized from that immediate recollection that I should ask these Americans for help. They invited me to their hotel, and on the taxi ride there, I recalled the name "Lion Hotel" (I did not know that name, so it could only have come from One Place). When we got to the hotel, the front desk had never heard of it. So the Americans called their Mongolian translator, who drove out to the hotel. We looked up on a city map, and found a hotel listed as "LG Hotel". It seemed like it might fit "Lion Hotel", so we called, and they had had 22 Americans check in that morning.

However, they gave very poor directions to the hotel (turns out it was a brand new, albeit, one star, hotel), so the translator suggested she drive me there, rather than sending me in a taxi. She had to call three times en route, before finally getting me to the hotel 5 minutes before the group returned from dinner, having decided (once they realized I was missing), that I probably had just taken a taxi back to the hotel on my own.

What a great lesson God had taught me. Hopefully, next time I will fully trust in Him.


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