August 2000

Dear Friends,

Two days ago I returned to Klaipeda, Lithuania, from a summer in America to take up teaching English again at Lithuanian Christian College (LCC). I have reached a difficult point in the balance between trying to plan for all contingencies and accepting uncertainty. We begin the first-year student language and orientation program without enough staff or student leaders. We expect seven African students and four Albanians in a school that has previously had only one student from outside the Baltic region, Russia, or Finland—and they are in their thirties (not early twenties as the others are). In this group of 140 first-year students are 20 who do not meet the requirement of facility in English previously required for enrollment. Recent graduates of the college will teach composition to first-year students under the supervision of an American instructor. There will also be, the first time, a number of former students returning with master’s degrees from America prepared to teach in the college. And finally, we’ll have the usual number of North American staff new to Lithuania. This is almost a mind-boggling set of uncertainties. My tendency is to worry. "Perhaps faith, in government or God, must be patiently laid brick by brick—experience by experience."

I am trying to balance prayer and planning. Two weeks ago I was worried about my own assignment changing to one requiring much new preparation. In those weeks the problem was solved in marvelous ways. I believe that all of these uncertainties are in God’s hands and will result in growth for all of us. I am trying to be open to the role God has for me in this plan. I appreciate all of the prayerful support I know I have and I am excited about the prospects ahead.

We begin the year with the full government accreditation for which we have worked so long. This is such a clear answer to prayer and work that I am inspired by it to look positively at the months ahead.

LCC in transition

As I prepare the orientation for new staff this August, I see the challenge and the promise of change. Until now there have been only four Lithuanian college faculty, and two of them teach the Lithuanian language requirements of staff and students. The office staff is largely Lithuanian. This year, seven former students are new to the faculty. The plan is to recognize both the student desire for instruction by native speakers of English and the college’s need to have a more stable staff than that which is afforded by volunteers who are usually here for only one year—some only a semester. Four of the new faculty members have been sponsored by the college in graduate study in the United States. The other three are recent graduates of the college, who will teach in an experimental program under the guidance of an American instructor. The challenge of this new staff make-up has been evident in preparing orientation activities. The need is to make a collegial community of these diverse individuals. The college is neither Lithuanian nor North American, but a blended culture. In this setting, there are special needs to slow down, listen, and be flexible.

To keep sight of the goal of Christian community may be difficult as we all face the new challenge of adapting to the government requirements that accompany our new status as an accredited university. This loving relationship is also challenged by the entry this year of students from Africa into the white society of LCC and Lithuania. The promise is of a richer experience for all of us—staff and students. It is a time in which we may clarify in action the school’s goal of teaching a Christian worldview. With prayer and determination, we have an exciting time ahead of us.

Laying bricks

One day last May we experienced a real disappointment at LCC. The North Americans here were outraged, but the students seemed only mildly disappointed. The president of Lithuania, who had agreed to speak at both the new campus dedication and commencement, cancelled just four days before the event. As one student told me, "I didn’t count on it. I knew that a ‘yes’ from the president was never more than a 50 percent chance." I could see quite clearly what faith it takes to be outraged.

Perhaps the workers putting down the parking lot in front of the campus complex understand the building of faith. I have watched them for weeks lay a foundation of gravel and tamp it down securely. Then they added a layer of sand and packed it down securely. No slab of concrete or solid pavement is laid. On their hands and knees, the workers pound in grey brick by grey brick in an interlocking pattern. Red bricks are secured in place to mark parking spaces. And when it looks finished to the unknowing eye, one more task remains. A layer of sand is laid over the surface. On his knees the worker extends a long board across the surface, packing the sand into the cracks, levelling and tamping. It is said that the surface will then withstand the weather.

Perhaps faith, in government or God, must be patiently laid brick by brick—experience by experience. Perhaps, when I thought I was doing little, I was securing that necessary base of sand and gravel—trust—that will never be seen. Perhaps I can be as patient now as a parking lot bricklayer. Answering a student’s request to have me read a journal entry about her dysfunctional family and talk about how one may have the strength to emerge joyful. Creating a special insert for a student left out of the yearbook, showing him that some people really do mean, "I’m sorry." Talking to the early hours with a grad about to step out in faith into a community that does not share the values learned here. Confirming to the astonished Belorussian that I really would be honored to visit her in her troubled homeland. Perhaps we who are small must stop thinking that only those with "the heavy machinery" really serve.

God bless the bricklayers.

Jackie Bartz

The 2000 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, page 85