Magyar Mullets March 2012 Newsletter
| 2012 Hungary Summit partners--not pictured: Brad Mullet and Deborah Roy |
Dear Family and Friends,
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| Randy and Robin Kohl |
Thank you for praying for us as the Lord brings us to your
minds. March was plenty full and the
weather perfect for a gathering of representatives from some of our partner
churches for the 2012 Hungary Summit.
The content of the summit can be found at www.hungarysummit.org Sam Rotman was on
hand to share the gospel while doing what the Lord has given his hands to
do—playing concerts. While Hungary
celebrated a holiday over a four day weekend, I ran off to Kansas to encourage our
youngest son Jacob in some life-course decisions. Kari held down the fort with help from Robin
Kohl, our teammate from the EFC of Crystal Lake, who was on-site for three
weeks to fill in teaching English, serving, hosting, and working. Her husband
Randy did a few projects himself. We
continue to sow and water seeds of the gospel and pray for growth. Last week
the mother of two girls who came to our English camp last summer accepted
Christ. They plan to attend this summer too.![]() |
| Uncle Jake has the touch with Isabelle |
While I was away for a few days, some bodies came by the
ministry center and put graffiti on the walls and doors—something I abhor. During
a team meeting the next day, I saw it through the window. I started a slow
burn. After the meeting, I changed into my grubby work clothes and headed
outside. I was already asking myself, “Is this why I am here? To clean off
graffiti?” As I rounded the corner,
bucket and supplies in hand, ready to pick a fight, I saw two young guys
walking by drinking beer. They stopped; I stopped. I said, “What’s up?” The one
guy said, “I hate tourists.” I said, “I’m a tourist, wouldn’t you like to be a
tourist?” He said, “I would be if the pay were good enough.” The other guy took
me in at glance and asked, “You get paid a lot to do that?” I said, “I do this for nothing, this isn’t
why I came to Hungary.” At that moment,
I deserved to be struck by bolt of lightning. In a flash, I recalled the
testimony I’d memorized in 1999. “…my life is not my own, I’ve come here to
share the good news of salvation in Jesus Christ…” What better way to share the gospel than on
the street, doing what the Lord has given my hands to do? Cleaning graffiti off
walls and windows. I spent thirty minutes with those boys explaining the
gospel. When they’d finished their beer they walked away. I went back to my
scrubbing. About ten minutes later they
came back by and asked a few more questions.
I don’t know what God was doing in their hearts, but I know what He was
doing in mine. I’ve determined to let graffiti be my prompt. God beckons me
come out; someone will be along shortly. I must ready myself to share the real
meaning in life; obviously that’s why I’m on the planet.
Purposeful in the labor,
Brad (and Kari)



