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Matt Snyder the spirit of a vagabond

Malawian Adventures: Cribs



Here's a blog that my teammate Becky Miller wrote.  I love this woman of God a lot.  I was pretty unfaithful in taking pictures this last month.  In fact, though I had my camera, I took none.  I didn't want to lug my hunkin' piece of awesome camera equipment around with me.  Plus, kids just want their pictures taken all of the time.  It gets tiring after awhile.  So I voided myself of that responsibility.  Therefore, all pictures of Malawi I attribute to my incredibly attractive and awesome girls.  The family that we stayed with was phenomenal!  We loved everything about them.  They live lives of love and ministry, and they were abnormally hospitable.  There's a lot we could learn from them.  So here's some pictures to give you an idea of where we were.  WE LOVED IT THERE and would NOT trade it for any other experience!  Enjoy...
 
This is our Home. We stayed with a local contact-Pastor Harvey, his wife, 2 daughters and nanny.

 Next is our TEAM Z tent compound set up in their front yard!

 The backyard...To the right is where dinner is usually made and dishes are washed.

 
 
 
 
 
 
Latrines. Bathroom on the right, hole on the left. :)

 
Squatty Potty. High class!! 
 
 
 

 Our Malawian Family!

  
 
 
 TEAM Z Lovin!!!!
(this was taken on my birthday baby!)

 

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Breathing Once Again



I apologize for my slumber.  It's been over a month since I've updated you on the happenings of my ever-changing world.  I find my heart yearning to write again, longing to have itself poured out on to the page in a way to exhaust your imaginations from the creations my words flood it with, but in order to do so, that takes time which I'm finding is incredibly fleeting.  Just when I think I might have a few moments to really express myself, it turns into mere seconds and seems like a waste of my time.  I hate half-hearting blog posts because I know how incredibly powerful they can be.  It's potential energy waiting to be unleashed onto unsuspecting spirits gasping for air.
 
That's how I might would have described myself the last month or so, that is, gasping for air.  Day in and day out I was waiting for the Spirit of God to come and breath new life into me, a chanced opportunity to walk in a fresh anointing - daily.  It's a challenge to press that deeply into the Lord, but something I wouldn't hesitate to suggest to anyone.  
 
I realize blog series have the potential to be rather mundane and sometimes, after frequent posting, people fail to read them - much like my blogs after, well, not-so-frequent posting!  But I want to attempt to share stories with you.  Not a blog series because, well, that initiates a thought process in my own brain that turns off my creative juices; however, if I decide to share stories with you, that's different. 
 
Malawian Adventures: [insert story title].
 
That's what I'll call it.  Every time you see a post that says "Malawian Adventures", you'll know I'm writing about this last month.  Malawi changed me.  It wrecked me and set me ablaze!  It actually means "land of fire".  And like our contact said, "so when you come to Malawi, you are tapping the FIRE OF GOD!  You cannot leave NOT changed!" 
 
I liked that.
 
So this is my attempt to spark a fire in your spirits, to ignite a change in your life that will hopefully call you to something greater and bigger than yourself.  So read on, enjoy the non-Malawian Adventure blogs in between, and I pray that these stories encourage and inspire you in some form or fashion; because in some ways, I think if I hadn't gone to Malawi, I would still be gasping for air.

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Walking on Water



So we are officially the best World Race team out there and perhaps the one with the greatest faith, enough that enables us to look like fools and walk on water.  We're a determined team who knows that this can be done.  This is the first of many attempts.  We see it as merely being practice.  May God have all the glory! 
** The giant of a kid with us is a dude named Austin.  He's a 16 year old from Kentucky that we adopted onto our team **



Walking on Water from Matthew Snyder on Vimeo.

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Being a Witness



“Let your light so shine before all men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is heaven.” – Matt 5.16

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about letting our ministry flow out of our being.  It’s easy to get caught up in trying to do things for Jesus to prove a point to people, to prove to them that we’re Christians or something else equally ridiculous.  There’s nothing to prove.  If we have to prove to people that we’re Christians, then maybe we should think about what we’re even reflecting in the first place. 

Now I’m not talking about it becoming a necessity that people identify “us” with those who go to church services every Sunday, read our Bibles, and stand on the street corners praying for the corrupt cities of America and comparing all of the corruption to their own holiness.  Those are Pharisees and our churches have done a good enough job in the past in raising those up.  Thank God that the younger generation (and older) is learning that they have a voice and they don’t have to conform to that hallow-type of religiosity, “form without power”.

But there’s still something else that I have a problem with: it’s thinking that we don’t have to open our mouths when we’re out in the real world and talk about Jesus.  I’m not talking about evangelism per-say, more like witness, which some of you might argue is the same thing.  I think that evangelism is more intentional than witness.  Being a witness comes out of your everyday life; it flows out of who you are.  And maybe it’s just perspective and the way you look at it, but that’s the way I’m looking at it for the time being – so work with me.

I’ve said before that I suck at evangelism, because I do, so I’m going to embrace this “being a witness” concept by merely being the son of God that I know how to be.  And I know that Saint Francis of Assisi said, “Preach the gospel at all times; if necessary, use words” but I just don’t think we can use that as an excuse anymore.  I was reading this sermon yesterday by a brilliant man named Elton Trueblood on the necessity of witness.  He said something in there that hit home with me.  It struck a chord in my flesh that said you’ve been doing this.  So like any good person, instead of trying to create excuses for myself, I’m going to embrace the conviction and make a change in my life.  Here’s what Trueblood said:

A common expression is, “I don’t speak to others about Christ; I just let my life speak.”  The more such a position is analyzed, the more arrogant it appears to be.  It represents, in fact, not humility, but the acme of self-righteousness.  Whose life is so good that his mere example, alone, is a sufficient witness?  It is precisely because our lives are not good enough that we must also have the courage to witness by word.  If our doctrine is not better than our lives, our lives will soon become worse than they are now.

I realize there’s a battle rising from this.  It’s necessary for us to use words and/or actions to reflect Christ in our lives, but I think a lot of us use one as an excuse to not do another.  What about those who speak of Christ but their life resonates blatant hypocrisy?  I had a friend who told me the other day he saw a priest walk by a homeless man who was trying to talk to him on the street.  I think I’ve read about that somewhere before (like the Bible).  But then there are those people out there, like myself at times, who do things and people have no idea why.  I’ll give a hungry man a plate of food or I might even hug an orphan, but I never tell them that it’s from Jesus, that Jesus wants to feed them or touch them.  And frankly, I’ve seen them left standing there, wondering why the hell I fed them or gave them a hug.  They didn’t do anything to deserve it.  Our actions open the doors to speak of Christ’s love.  Shoot – I could have spoken on the grace of God or something.  Or love.  That’s a good one.

Trueblood also says, “It is not our religion that we, as Christians, are required to share.  It is Christ’s.  The moment we try to hold our faith in such a way that we keep it to ourselves, and make no effort to influence other people who might be liberated by it, we are showing that we have a complete misunderstanding of the situation.”  Ouch.  Those are tough words to swallow, eh?

So my challenge for you: go love on somebody and tell them why (actions preceding words).  Or if you would rather, tell them why you’re about to love on them (words preceding action).  But just go do it.  Be a witness.  Stop hiding your faith behind your brittle wall of insecurity and thinking you have something to prove.  Your faith, which should be faith like Christ’s, has already been proven.  You just need to go live it out like it’s no big deal and pull others into it. 

Easier said than done, I know, but don’t use that as an excuse. 

Christians are full of too many excuses.


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Unofficial Element



I was gently reminded by the Lord today that I have this thing I like to call my ‘element’ that I tend to gravitate towards, whether or not I want to recognize it as something official.  I’m going to call it an “unofficial element” because I don’t like to box myself in and claim that I’m only good at one specific thing in life, plus, I often times find myself uncomfortable and stretched in places like it because in some ways, God likes to put me on the spot when I find myself in my “unofficial element.”  And by now you’re probably curious as to what my “unofficial element” is.  I would be glad to tell you.

Homeless people rock my face off.

That’s not the element, but it’s centered around those kinds of people.

We were introduced to this amazing ministry here in Nelspruit at this place called the Forum.  It’s a homeless ministry that feeds guys both physically and spiritually.  It reminds me a lot of a ministry that I was a part of back home called Church on the Street.  My faithful 50 blog readers might recognize the name.  Basically it’s a church that rocks the city of Wichita to a new level of awesomeness.  If you’re in the area, I’d encourage you to check it out.  If you’re in the Nelspruit area, I suggest you check out the Forum at eight o’clock in the morning.

I met this guy today that I’ll call Henri.  Honestly, I can’t remember if that was his name because he took a liking to mumbling when I asked him questions… like his name.  Maybe he was trying to avoid being discovered and having me rat-out his location to the CIA, I’m not sure, but he seemed like a good guy and he told me he was a missionary.  I’m not one hundred percent certain what a missionary was doing at a homeless ministry-shelter-place, but I wonder the same about myself at times.  What the heck was I doing there?  I don’t know.  Apparently I was at a table drinking some funky tea and talking to Henri.

He’s a certified mechanic and he took a lot of pride in that… he reminded me about half a dozen times.  He was in his late forties or mid fifties and had seen a lot of road.  He’s been up to the middle of Africa, all the heck over Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Namibia, Kenya, the Congo, and many other crazy African countries.  His latest adventurous activities don’t involve vehicles and carting other missionaries around in the back of open trucks, but backpacking throughout South Africa by himself. 

I think that’s what resulted in him using homeless services.

And I realize it might appear that I’m passively discounting everything that Henri said to me, critiquing him, judging him, and all that other stuff.  I must assure you, however, that I am not.  I wish I could begin to tell you the smile that was permanently scarred onto my face the entire time that I was talking with him, well, more like listening to him.  I couldn’t get it off!  No matter how hard I mentally tried smacking the crazy look off my face, my crooked smile wouldn’t disperse. 

It was awesome.

And it’s in guys like Henri that I realize I love homeless ministry.  I love guys like Henri full of stories that are littered with half-truths, shotty details, and the glorious realities of life in this world.  There’s an element to their stories and their lives that lacks in my own and so in many ways, I find myself living vicariously through them.  My spirit’s envious of the trials and sufferings they’ve been through or are going through.  It’s my unofficial element because it’s where I feel most alive and most challenged.  It’s where God almost inevitably always shows up.  Sometimes it’s really subtle; through a prayer or the smile on a drunken man’s face.  Other times it’s blatantly obvious; through the healing of a blind man’s eyes.

We’re going back every morning beginning Monday.  I can’t wait to get to know these guys and serve them, develop friendships, and hear more stories from Henri’s adventures.  I asked him what the craziest thing he saw out there on the road was when he was driving missionaries around.  He said, “dude – I’ve been all over Africa.”

Such a simple answer.

So what’s your “unofficial element”?  Where do you become the most alive?  What is the place in your little world that you pour out everything you have and get it all back in return?  I’m curious to know.  Let’s make this blog interactive.  Leave a comment.  I’m tired of you hearing from me and me not from you.


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#150. Waiting on God



In recent days I've taken a liking to the website Stuff Christians Like.  Basically, it's jam-packed with sarcastic humor and whit, critiquing Christian culture in the States in a fresh new way.  In fact yesterday I laughed my butt off.  The funny thing?  I'm so skinny I didn't realize I had one.  Anyway.  This particular post caught my eye and I thought I would share because it was kind of deep and somewhat shallowly heartfelt.  I'm feeling the vibe that I'm going to post a lot more in the near future...

#150. Waiting on God

Waiting on God is a good thing, but it can quickly evolve into just another form of the excuse, "let me pray about it." And to tell you the truth, I've received some great emails in the last few weeks asking me to address this issue.

Rather than going over the steps on how to run and how to wait, I thought I'd share the three stories that kind of punched my understanding of waiting on God in the face:

1. The silent bush.
If you have kids and their Sunday School teacher has access to red construction paper then you've seen this story 19 times. But here's something I always missed. God didn't talk to Moses until after Mose took a step toward the burning bush. Here is what Exodus 3 says: So Moses thought, "I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up." When the LORD saw that he had gone over to look, God called to him from within the bush, "Moses! Moses!" What if Moses had "waited" on the Lord instead of exploring the strange sight?

2. The great goat parade.

In Genesis 43, after Joseph of the coat fame, forgave his brothers, he tells his father Israel to come to Egypt. Here's what happens: "So Israel (Jacob) set out with all that was his and when he reached Beersheba, he offered sacrifices to the God of his father Isaac. And God spoke to Israel in a vision at night and said, "Jacob! Jacob!" "Here I am," he replied. "I am God, the God of your father," he said. "Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you into a great nation there. I will go down to Egypt with you, and I will surely bring you back again." Do you see the sequence there? Israel had to pack up his entire life first. He had to get the goats moving, pick up his tents, send his clan to Egypt before God spoke to him. The journey was underway before God comes on the scene. What if Israel had waited on God before he left for Egypt?

3. Why test when you can split?

After Elijah goes up to heaven and Elisha takes up his mantle he's forced with a decision. He can sit and pray and wait or he can strike out on his own campaign for God. Here's what happens in 2 Kings 2: He (Elisha) picked up the cloak that had fallen from Elijah and went back and stood on the bank of the Jordan. Then he took the cloak that had fallen from him and struck the water with it. "Where now is the LORD, the God of Elijah?" he asked. When he struck the water, it divided to the right and to the left, and he crossed over. I love that. He didn't test the waters with his toe, he parted them. He basically said, "God if you're down, let's do this thing." And then he did it.

The one thing we can't miss in those examples is that a period of great waiting preceeded a the period of great action. Moses was in the desert for 40 years before the bush caught aflame. Israel had spent years trusting in the Lord even though he believed Joseph was dead. Elisha had apprenticed to Elijah for a while.

So the question comes down to, should you wait on God or run?

And I think the answer is "yes."

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WR DIY: Breaking In



Our accommodation at Backdoor, South Africa is quite lovely.  Don't worry, you won't find a Hilton or Holidy Inn Express here.  In fact, you won't even find Backdoor on a map because to this world, it doesn't exist, which creates problems when you're trying to find a locksmith.

One day this past week the girls decided to get the key stuck in their bedroom door and lock themselves out... with precious commodities locked in the room (like drinking water).  Terri and Sarah spent quite a length of time with some of the neighborhood boys trying to bust the lock, but to no avail, they couldn't seem to break in. 

That's what pastors are for.


Here are the girls, rather sad to be locked out.


Pastor Clifford being sweet with a screwdriver and hammer; prying ever so forcefully into the doorframe.


Just another angle... makes it easier.


In the meantime, the girls make it look good.


I decide to join in... because I make it look even better.


Twice (and with my muscley arm in the shot)

Because of our good looks, the pastors broke the lock off for my lovely ladies


So, naturally, they celebrate with the "Hiro" cheer!


And I, again, decide to make this celebration look good.

All in all, it was a good and adventurous evening.  There was a large potential for Satan to really win this victory, using frustration and our lack of comfort to thwart our joy from the day; however, God is often the most victorious in situations like these and we had a great night!  It was fun and we were sure to thank God for a terrific evening... by praying and watching our evening episode of "Heroes".

God bless you and miss you all!


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Save the Squad Leader!



Watch this video and support my brother, Rusty!



Rusty Support from Rusty Jackson on Vimeo.

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Maxi Taxi Joe



Eagerly looking for a cab to take us back, I walked up to a red beat up four-door to see a sleeping man inside.  He startled himself awake trying frantically to pull himself out of the land of dreams and back into this harsh reality in an attempt to have a conversation with me.  I saw his struggle and gave him a few seconds before asking him if he was able to give us a ride.  He grunted his reply, "where to and how many of you?"

"Eight," I said, "but you'll have to call another cab for us."

"Give me a minute and I'll go get one."  He took off in his red "Maxi Taxi" and returned with another car.  He knew of the Brown Sugar, the backpackers that we're staying at.  I was relieved because I didn't feel like explaining to him how to get there because, well, I'm lazy. 

On our way we struck up a conversation.  Our driver's name was Joe, and he actually owned "Maxi Taxi" and had been driving for the last 18 years.  It wasn't his ideal job, but he said no one's going to hire a 65 year old man to do any work, so he did what he had to do.  I suppose it paid the bills.  By the looks of his car, it seemed that he was doing all that he could to get by.

"Is it cold?" he asked, confirming my suspicions that weather is a great topic to break up stagnant conversation.

"This is nothing compared to winter in the States," I said, "we're used to a few feet of snow on the ground and biting cold." 

Joe merely grunted in reply.

I went on to explain that we were missionaries and had been travelling the world the last few months sharing Jesus.  Again, Joe grunted.  I asked him if he knew Jesus.  "I've heard of him, " he said, "but I-I have some questions and, uh, maybe you could answer them."  I told him I could and he asked me questions about who Jesus was, what his nationality was, where he was from, what his religion was, etc.  I told him everything that I knew.

At this point we were pulling into the Brown Sugar and our conversation ended.  I told Joe that if we needed a cab driver the next two days that I would call him.  He was grateful and I told him I would pray for him.  He was thankful for that.  The thing that made me the happiest was that I left Joe with a smile on his face; just another guy trying desperately to make it through this world while trying deliberately to hang onto what little truth he knew.

I am by no means an evangelist.  In fact, I'm probably the worst one out there because I can't wrap my mind around those cheesy Christian pick-up lines.  They make me throw up a little in my mouth; however, I'm trying to get better about sharing Jesus Love with people through words.  It's important to seize every opportunity.  And not everyone's an evangelist - I'm sure as hell not, but that's still no excuse.  Plus I've used up that excuse for all of us.  There are no more "I'm not an evangelist" excuses left.   So come up with a new one.  But don't even waste your time trying to come up with one, just go love on somebody.


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I'm-a-changin'



I thought it would be cool to post a blog kind of telling you random things.  Nothing profound and nothing of great insight; just a few things that have changed about me.

Coffee

I miss real coffee with a passionate passion.  I know that's redundant, but I don't really care.  If you didn't know already, when you're in foreign countries, REAL coffee is almost non-existent.  I say almost because there are certain places that you can find coffee dripping from a filter… its succulence beaconing your very taste-buds, screaming at your addiction.  Well… my point is, I've had to adapt my drinking habits.  Instant coffee is rather disgusting by itself… so, yes, against my better judgment I've - daresay - added things to my not-so-regular cup o' joe.  The girls could tell you about this sin I've been repeatedly committing.   They say they're proud of me.  I merely hang my head in shame because I now drink my coffee with cream and sugar (a lot of sugar). 

But don't worry.  The times I do have a real cup of coffee… I drink it black… unless it's an old batch, then I've been adding the "sin" to it.

Sleeping Habits

These actually change on a regular basis; however, as of late, I've developed horrible habits of sleeping in.  For the better part of the year I've been getting up before most everyone else does (6:30-7:00) so I could squeeze in some quiet time and force myself into waking up without subjecting them to the hell that can resonate off my person that early in the morning.  I posted a blog about it in Iquitos.  You can read it here.  But here in Gordon's Bay, it's been really easy to sleep in.  The curtains keep the room dark and I easily sleep through the alarm.  I haven't been crawling out the bed until about 8:00-8:30, knowing full well that three of the girls don't even get up until 10:30-11:00.  Caroline still says she doesn't talk to me in the morning until I talk with her… she's afraid I might speak death into her life, which saddens me because when she gets up I don't feel mean.  Maybe my facial expressions have changed…

We've stayed up really late the last several nights though… until about 1:00 or 2:00am doing holy things, like prayer!  (Or shamefully, watching Heroes).

Eating Habits

This one is really important.  If you're thinking about coming on the World Race, you can't be picky.  I had to cast that aside at the very beginning of the year when a fish was staring back at me on my plate.  I've found myself eating things that I didn't ever think I would like again nor eat again.  Things from my childhood have popped back up too.  For instance, when I was little I remember that I hated broccoli with the upmost passion.  It was one vegetable I almost refused to eat.  Now I love it.  I think it's great!  Although I don't think I could eat it by itself yet.  I need something to off-set the taste, like ranch dressing or something.

Burgers anyone?  I used to order them plain, without garnish, naked, however you say it.  I hated the onions, I hated the tomato, even the lettuce.  Now I love crap on my burger!  I'll eat it with lettuce, tomato, onions, even mustard and/or mayonnaise!  I know my mother's completely repulsed by this right now, but it's true!  I had a ham and cheese sandwich a few weeks ago and I put mustard on it because I knew it would make it taste better! 

As for more veggies, I've taking a real liking to peppers… and avocadoes.  I really like guacamole now.  I'm going to have to get some of Abby Hutson's infamous guacamole when I get back to the States.

Tuna is still repulsive.  The ladies tried sneaking some in my omelet yesterday, but I tasted it.  Blech!  It's a staple food item in most places and it just makes me want to gag.  And I don't like Milk Tart pie, a common African dessert.  Sorry, Tom, but I think it tastes funny.  The texture's all wrong…

Music

Those of you that know me know that I have a special liking for folksy-acoustic-type music.  No worries, I still love it (in fact I'm listening to Andrew Peterson right now).  However, I've found myself liking the darker side of softer rock lately. I know that sounds strange coming from a missionary.  Don't you listen to praise and worship music all the time, you may ask?  The answer: no.  How can you limit God to speaking solely through "Christian" music?  You can't (though people do).

Driving

We don't drive here that much because there's not too much opportunity for it.  But if you do drive, it's quite the adventure (so I like to think).  It's fun driving on the left-side of the road (no, it's not the wrong side, just the left side).  Having to adjust mentally to all of that… imagine if you're not used to driving stick-shift all of the time and then suddenly, you do!  And to top it all off, you're on the right side of the car and the gear-shift is in your left hand!  Let's put it this way: I can drive stick fairly well now… on the opposite side of the car.  Thanks, dad, for teaching me in your crappy truck because driving these nicer cars makes it easier!

Clothing

I know what you're thinking: Matt, you're no GQ.  Heck no I'm not and praise be to God Almighty!  But I've figured something out about myself... I have this desire to look nice now.  I obviously still don't care about the way that I look because I'm wearing the same clothes several days in a row, but I wore a button-up shirt yesterday and I felt like I was styling… though I was far from it.  I had only worn it once on this trip thus far and I felt good.  It's amazing how our clothes can make us feel.  I remember dressing crappy back home; I'd walk around in sweats and not give ten cents about the way I looked.  Now I want to care. 

But it'll have to wait until November.

There's probably more that's changed about me but my mind's starting to draw a blank, which is why I mentioned clothes.  I don't really care too much about them.

Hope you enjoyed this.  I'll leave you with a recommended reading list, full of books that I've read since being here in South Africa:

  • -          The Shack by William Young
  • -          Victory Over Darkness by Neil T. Anderson
  • -          Spiritual Slavery to Spiritual Sonship by Jack Frost
  • -          The Way of the Wild Heart by John Eldrege
  • -          A Tale of Three Kings by Gene Edwards
  • -          God Chasers by Tommy Tenney
  • -          Everything Must Change by Brian McLaren

Happy reading!


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