Who is My Neighbor?

The simple thought struck me profoundly...

I snap the mic back onto the console and turn out my window to see the man that had led us in to his neighbor's lot, in the back of a beautiful little subdivision in the middle of nowhere.
I'd seen his bumper stickers. They told of a war we were ashamed to own, and his full grey beard and tattered hat told the rest of the story.
But this was his neighbor who was sick...

He's been waiting for my look. Out my open window he snaps a salute.

I nod.
"Thank you, sir."
"Be careful now."
"Yes sir."

I touch my own forehead and put the ambulance in drive.
Lights glitter red. He watches us go.

And I find myself glad for a chance to drive the 90 minutes it took to get to the scene...
Glad for a chance to serve a community where neighbors lead the ambulance in. (He wasn't the first.)
Lots of neighbors, lots of places, don't care.

And I thought of a Samaritan man a long time ago...
And wondered not so much, "Who is my neighbor?"

But rather, "Whose neighbor am I?"

Taste of the Tour

Words fail of conveying sufficient depth and gravity.
Clichés like: "I'll never be the same" apply, but still don't tell it like it is...

I throb thankfulness while I grope for expressions worthy, and finally conclude-

Our best statements are understatements.

Because once again, our God has outdone Himself, blessing when we went to bless.
How I needed the quiet. How I needed to see the rocks that cried red. How I needed the battle to refocus. How I needed to be broken and healed, raised up out of weakness, charged to fight...
Reminded that I am nothing.
Reminded that "All things work together for good..."

All things.

Thank You Jesus.
Thank you, beautiful friends from all over the continent...

We love you...


Taste of the Tour from Sean Nebblett on Vimeo.

Full Cups and New Friends...

I learned today how to make a full cup fuller...
Surround yourself with european friends three tiers high, and talk about war.

Seriously, guys... Why do we have to nearly starve before we're ready for bread?

friends: three tiers high

sermon notes. (green version)

Marcel manipulating languages

faces

Frank Fournier: fellow "American" and new friend :)

This one is for the Fords. ;)

more friends

my pal again. (fun to take pictures of!)

listening

we interrupted a birthday party on outreach. Second from left there got Happy Birthday, and Always Cheerful.

the neighborhood natives lead the way

p.s. you don't have to speak the same language to be friends...

Outreach!

I love it when a group of kids knocks on the door, and after they have finished singing and the owner has selected a Great Controversy (of all things!) from their stash of "free gifts," they offer to pray for blessings on that house, and the owner crashes in with his own beautiful prayer of blessing for them...

I love it when a simple songs strikes a solid chord because the heart was made soft by a brother's recent passing...

I love it when the neighborhood kids get excited right along with us, and wait with huge smiles with their scooters and unicycle for us to pick them up each afternoon to sing to he rest of the town.

I love it when those same neighborhood kids tell me all the english phrases they've learned in school, while I stretch my poor tongue to make German sounds back, and we all laugh, friends.

It is hard not to love this place.

we set out

that's my pal there

and his harmonica is a big hit

neighborhood girls

surrounded by friends

(most of whom have names difficult to pronounce)

this is real fun

next door

see my friends with the wheels?

how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news...

Speak, Dear Jesus...

Let every word count; every action count. 
Speak through our eyes with the language of Heaven when we can't speak with our tongues the language of this beautiful land.
We love You...
And we love these Your children. 

The famous Edelweiß, only in the Alps.

odd man out.

If you've never had German bread... Well, you've never had bread.

Nebblett & Nebblett

Breakout.

Church in Three Languages

Love it. :)

And we love meeting young people in other parts of the world that have the same fire burning in their souls that burns in ours. The army is growing... 

Halfway to Heaven?

Spent hours this morning in a warm little Austrian living room, talking of Heaven... (While the clouds were deciding whether or not to cry.) Now my heart carries a peculiar little twinge.

I want to go Home...

But then I look out the window and remember where I am, and what I have left to do before it's time to leave. 

Heaven is my home, but earth is my workplace.

And it's not yet time to go...

. . . . . . . . .

I live on a cursed planet, thanks to my first father's ingratitude.  

But I think the curse rests more heavily in some places than others. 

This place is unreal. The pictures are pitiful.

I've never been to a place where the curse seems to rest more lightly.

Look, the sun just came out.