I met Jordan while attending a discipleship training school in New Zealand, circa 2008. Wiry, six-foot tall, and expressively extroverted personality to go along with an energetic-adventurous heart. Hobbling around on a cast-boot obtained previously by drunken attempt off roof to pool misfire, Jordan came stumbling into our dorm room. If one were to tell me all those years ago this Texan would weasel his way into my heart close as a brother, I may have laughed. It goes without saying, for those who have only met him in recent years, could they imagine what showed up at our doorstep. One of my first memories of Jordan concerns singing; wide-eyed and bushy tailed, Jordan would sing ever so loudly for all us trying to sleep just a little longer. Every morning for weeks on end, Katy Perry’s “I kissed a girl,” whether one liked it or not. My annoyance was met defensively by a mocking, “Get over it.” To say the least, the foundation of our friendship was as hobbled as his foot. And of course, who could forget he was under the impression he had come to New Zealand to build homes for the poor, and party with local girls on the weekend (not sure where he got that idea).
It would not take long before he found himself the odd man out, and it was in those moments God graced me with compassion for him. Now realizing the discipleship training school was not humanitarian in nature, rather conflict of the human heart with God, and what to do about it; Jordan began wrestling with God, and us. The man literally wrote out hundreds of questions which required an answer, or Jordan was out of there. As the weeks rolled on I watched as his heart began to tenderize. And who could have believed it, on the fifth week of the school Jordan surrendered his life to Christ. To date, one of my favorite moments in the twelve-years since I did the same. In sheer delightful response, he instantly, at times immaturely, shouted praises of goodness to everyone about the God of his salvation. No, literally, out car windows, walking down the street, in restaurants-you name it, the man was a natural born evangelist. I watched as the years progressed his love for God, and for others to know Salvation in Christ. I wept with him in prayer as few understood the burden for souls he carried. I grabbed shovel in hand with him in evangelism. While even many in our ministry context found every excuse under the sun to avoid his calls of evangelistic efforts, Jordan never lost heart. I enjoyed, through the development of brotherhood, a common discipleship of one another. Jordan’s zeal for evangelism is equally matched by his love for the Word of God, and wrestling of prayers. It has been my great joy to serve alongside him these eight-years; from those foundational years in New Zealand, to failing miserably at our first Church planting attempt in the Muslim-world, to picking our heads up off the ground, rebuilding another team in Colorado Springs, to the sadness realized when moving forward in the Muslim world meant living in separate locations. Tears flow as I think of the goodness of God to provide him with an amazing wife, Amanda, and a beautiful newborn girl, Felicity.
Jordan, Amanda, and little Felicity joined more of our FAI family in N. Iraq, amidst Iraqi Kurdish refugees; a people who have been through traumatic crisis, and are without hope in Christ Jesus, the true Messiah. You might ask, why would such a young beautiful family leave the comforts of the American West to live in poverty amidst a Muslim people who may prove hostile? Why would they want to live ping-ponged between tyrant Muslim countries who hate the Kurds, and risk war zone environment? Simply put, Jesus is worthy of His magnificent name going forth in the hardest darkest places on earth. I watched for years as Western people mocked Jordan’s evangelistic fervor, both Christians and non-Christians; I could not be prouder to call him and his family, family! Muslims are ripe for the Gospel, and they are ripe to share.
Jordan and his family embody the Romans chapter-ten cry, “How are they to believe in Him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And How are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news? …Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (ESV. Rom. 10:14-15, 17). In an age where few American Christian’s are willing to trade the comforts of the West, an age all too content to preach, teach, and lead worship to a people which have heard the Gospel of Christ a million times over; Jordan, you and your family have beautiful feet. Thank you for Jesus sake! Thank you for not selling out to cowardice, thank you for not selling out to the many open doors your gifting offers here in the West, and thank you for not considering your life your own. You are a seed that has gone into the ground and died, may your work produce bountiful harvest! The reading capacity of this generation could not handle all I wish I could write about the testimony of the grace of God leading your life.
I have written this brief summation as an example to others of what happens when amazing grace is truly realized. Here is your inspiration-go forth to those who have no witness of Christ in their midst-go forth with no regrets, and no reserves. Believe me, you want to stand before the Lord at the end of your life with beautiful feet.