older boys' home

Tony took this picture last night on his visit to the children's home for older boys (13+) - a ministry he's started here recently.

(blurry on purpose, all the kids have cases in court)

Isn't that weird? A ministry he's started here.

But it's so easy to start ministries here. We have started several so far: a slums ministry, a movie ministry, a children's home ministry. It's really not that hard; so much easier than in the United States. You don't need a degree, seminary, or an FBI background check.

We have found that all you need is a desire to actually do something and the gumption to go ahead and just do it.

You don't have to be super spiritual or exceptionally talented. God uses ordinary people. Peter was a fisherman. The differentiating factor?  He was recognized to have been with Jesus.

Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated, common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus.

Acts 4:13

Not that I'm poo-pooing degrees, or seminary, or FBI checks. These are all good and helpful things. But they are not a requirement to do God's will or His work. God can't wait on possessors of these things in say poor, rural, mountainous Tibet. The Bible shows us time and again that Jesus doesn't need these things to use us. He used Peter and John, and Andrew his lowly fisherman brother, and many, many others - who were all just ordinary people.

Blue-collar Joes.

Tony and Facundo went last evening to the home together. Facundo is one of the youth from church who plays the drums.

We are enjoying working with the young adults from church. Some are not involved in any kind of outreach or ministry - they're just kind of there. Tony is working hard at encouraging them to get out there and we often invite them to various different things we have going on. It's so sweet to see their eagerness to do something for the Lord.

This was their second visit to the home. The boys were looking forward to their return, and asked them last time if and when they were coming back. Tony projected the John Bunyan Torchlighters movie onto the pale, green, smudged wall of the inside of the home. As usual, there was dead silence when the movie was over. The movies are powerful, and they have that effect on just about everyone - believers and non-believers alike.

Afterwards, they did a little reflection and discussion of the movie. They are slowly introducing the study of God's Word. The boys are very open and receptive and thankful for the notebooks Tony brought for each one. In them they write down their memory verses to study, questions, notes, and prayers. He is teaching them to pray, to think about eternal things, to open up about their lives, and pointing them to Hope, to the One who longs to rescue them from the pit. The church we attend also gave us eight small, pocket-sized Bibles for each one. After their visit of course they played a round of soccer. Because what's ministry and evangelism in South America without a game of soccer?

Truly, we can say, God is richly blessing us in all things. It is our one, main, sustaining grace, all this that we see the Lord doing. 

Some days we ourselves fall into a pit, despairing when we look at all the challenges and difficulty of our journey in the Way - but as Christian in The Pilgrim's Progress, we often find ourselves climbing the Hill Difficulty only to happen upon, midway to the top of the hill, a pleasant Arbour, made by the Lord of the Hill, for the refreshment of weary Travellers.

We continue to be so amazed at all the doors that have opened up for us here. Tony found this particular place walking home one day - back when we didn't have a car. He was walking down our dirt road and walked up along side an older man, also walking. And, of course, Tony can not not start talking to everyone he meets, so they struck up a conversation. Pedro loves to talk almost as much as Tony. Turns out Pedro worked for 20 years in homes for troubled youth. When Tony shared that that is something he would like to do as well, Pedro took Tony to this nearby home for troubled youth. Pedro now comes to our weekly Bible study, has from the first day we opened up our home. Pedro lives in a tiny, three-room house nearby. He has been a Christian his entire life, and we enjoy listening to his observations and the wealth of knowledge that only years of living and years of Bible reading can impart.



Pedro welding a wheelbarrow for us in his back yard



fighting back the jungle

Jim Elliot, in his Journals, wrote about how nine-tenths of his daily life in the jungles of Ecuador seemed to be taken up with simply fighting back the jungle.

He spent a great deal of his time just working so that the jungle didn't literally take back the small clearing in which he lived. It was hot, sweaty, and time-consuming work that had little to do with the evangelism or teaching he had come to Ecuador to do.

I feel much the same way. And often.

Just fighting back the jungle.

I know Tony feels this way sometimes, too. Especially at times like these. The car is broken down, we are housebound by illness, the kids are now sick, too.

Treading water, focusing on the basics like health - just maintaining.

It's boring. And frustrating. I want to do, do, do. Didn't we come here to do?

This weekend we didn't do. Tony couldn't go to Bariloche to help continue building that church as planned. He had to give his place to someone else. The exchange? A shot in the butt-ocks, lots of meds, and a weekend in, hacking and blowing his nose, and being just generally high maintenance.

Adrian, a friend and doctor from church - when he heard of our recurrent woes - stopped in unexpectedly bearing a needle.
Thanks, Adrian! Payment? In heaven. We sent them off with many thanks and a loaf of bread.

Bend over, honey. Muahahahaha

Tomorrow we look forward to getting out and calling Miami to see where our radiator is. What if it doesn't arrive? I mean, who orders radiators from 4,000 miles away across the seas? And if you do, does it actually get to you? {Our cracked radiator can not be welded - the part that broke is a thick plastic piece on the head. We were advised by many not to let them "make" us a new one here... it's not worth the risk they mess something up, and it's also literally not worth it, more expensive ($1000). So here we are doing things we've never done before: ordering car parts from overseas. New normal. And New Normal is... weird.}

I love the bars on our windows. I don't love the dust.

I wasn't lying about the dirt here. I hate dirt just as much as I hate cleaning. This is two weeks worth of desert dust on the inside of my kitchen window (imagine what covers every flat surface, every day). It's still there. I have more pressing things to do at the moment. A perfectly clean house is the sign of a perfectly wasted (missionary) life.

Kisses from Katie

I found Katie's blog about a year ago. Couldn't stop reading. Amazing how God can use one person fully surrendered to Him, simply obedient to His word....

small things

What your bedside looks like when you sell the bedside table.

{books I'm reading before I read them to the kids, empty glass of water,  bilingual Bible, the remains of this morning's coffee, and my ARCHOS 7 Home Tablet (a computer age disappointment which deserves it's own post)... all on the floor with the dust bunnies.}

I'm glad that at least the JESUS Film Anime version is still working on the Archos. I also downloaded the JESUS Film in Spanish onto it before the internet connection spazzed on me. So at least it's still good for something.

It's the small things sometimes. They keep me going.

.small things, the blog. (now I just need her camera)

Hudson Taylor, sacrifice, and other good news

I am loving reading Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret. Timely encouragement as we are busy selling our possessions, and feeling the stress and strain of all that entails...

"How few of the Lord's people have practically recognized the truth that Christ is either Lord of all or He is not Lord at all! If we can judge God's Word, instead of being judged by it, if we can give God as much or as little as we like, then we are lords and He the indebted one, to be grateful for our dole and obliged by our compliance with His wishes. If on the other hand He is Lord, let us treat Him as such. "Why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not do the things which I say?"

In these days of easy-going Christianity, is it not well to remind ourselves that it really does cost to be a man or woman whom God can use? One cannot obtain a Christlike character for nothing; one cannot do a Christlike work save at a great price, "Can ye drink of the cup that I drink of, and be baptized with the baptism wherewith I am baptize?"

People ask me if I want to go to Argentina. I guess they find it surprising, either because they know how much I hated it before, or they know I am leaving the first world for the third, and am I okay with that? Argentineans are especially curious, "So, how are you, Chris? Are you happy? Do you want to go back to Argentina??". I say yes I am, and I do. I never wanted to step foot again there, but God changed my heart. That's all I can say. I truly see it as a privilege that He is sending us there. What an honor, to be commissioned by the King. I don't deserve any good thing He gives me, but He not only gives me good things, He is seeing fit to use a wretch like me to reach others. How can I not be happy about that?

There was a plane crash yesterday in Patagonia - it had just taken off from the very city we are moving to. 22 dead, including a baby. That makes me nervous (in that I want to go by banana boat now, not plane - not a fan of flying tin cans), but it also makes me yearn to just be there. I watched the news, the interviews of the humble people that live out in the middle of nowhere Patagonia where the plane went down, and where not much else ever happens, their faces revealing their indigenous roots, and I would just love to be there with them. That is the greatest miracle of all to me, that God has given me a love for the Argentinean people I can honestly I didn't have before. The greatest miracle of all sometimes is the miracle of a changed heart. If He can change my heart, He can change anybody. If He wants to use me, take me anywhere and use me, then I happily say, "Here I am, Lord. Send me!".

Last night our daughter also gave her life to Christ. First our boy, now our girl *sniff* - God is good. Although her personality is a happy one, she has been angry lately, frustrated, unhappy, fighting alot with her baby sister, selfish, mean. Last night, in her frustration, she announced that she had made a decision: she was not moving to Argentina. She was staying here and that was final. She also informed us she was not ever going to accept Jesus into her life because following Jesus is boring. We weren't sure where it was all coming from, maybe she was feeling the stress of the move, maybe we have been busy lately and not giving her the attention she needs - so we had a long talk with her to try to figure out what was going on in her little heart. Tony opened up the Bible and showed her a few verses, I talked to her too, but she still said she didn't understand. At one point I just shrugged and told her what Mom-mom told me once when I asked her why we had to go to church and what the big deal was, "When you're older you'll understand." I told her she didn't understand because she doesn't have Jesus in her life. She looked up at me and asked me if I wanted her to accept Jesus. I said of course, but that was a decision that she would have to make. She asked if she could do it when she was 93, right before she died. I said sure, but who says you're going to live until you're 93? Remember the people in the plane crash? They probably thought they would live many more years too. But they didn't. They probably didn't think that they would get on that plane and not get off alive. I reminded her that her Mommy and Papi wasted many years of their lives on stupid stuff and we hope that she doesn't make the same mistake. I asked her if she would like to pray to accept Jesus and ask that God help her to understand all those things that she doesn't, and she (to my surprise) said yes. We prayed right there in the kitchen, dirty dishes and all. As my tears fell down onto her face she looked up at me and said, "But I didn't cry". I told her that everybody's experience is different, tears or no tears is not proof that you are saved or not saved. Some people come to a gradual understanding of Christ and their need and their sin, others have a powerful, marked experience of great weeping and repentance. Faith is like a little seed, sometimes it starts very small, and grows gradually into a big tree.

Afterwards we found and told Tony, and talked late into the night. She asked a whole bunch of questions, questions not typical of our goofy, happy, tends-on-the-flighty-side daughter - real, deep questions about how to be born again, and what does that mean, and oh you mean like Nicodemus, and what about hell, and am I going there, sincere questions about the blood of Christ and what it means and judgement and how to get to heaven and the Way.

I asked her if she believes in the wind. She said smiling, "Yeah...". I said God is like the wind. You can not see Him or touch Him, but He is there. You see evidence of the wind: the leaves rustle, you can hear it, you feel it, but you can't see it or hold it or even prove it is there. God is the same way. We see evidence of Him everywhere, we feel Him, we see him move. All we have to do is chose to believe He is there, to just believe in Him. Sometimes it's only after we believe that we finally are able to understand many things. The way to God is through Jesus. Jesus said, "I am the Way, no one comes to the Father except through me."

After a while she seemed satisfied and announced, "I feel happy now. I'm going to try to make it a habit of praying every night when I go to bed!". And that was that. She happily bounced off to bed.

Oh, God is so good and He works in such unexpected ways! How can I not follow a God like that? Even if it means sacrifice, going to a third world country, to the ends of the earth? All we can do is be faithful to follow Him and share the Good News, it is only the Holy Spirit that can bring conviction, and Christ new life. Our work is to share and to love, God's work is to save souls.

:)

if I wrote a letter to my mother

Thinking of leaving, and thinking of all we are leaving behind, I think of my mother. My parents, my whole family, my friends - we are leaving them all. It's hard, it really is. My parents are older - in their sixties and late seventies. I can see they are aging. Their health is relatively good, but that doesn't mean it will be tomorrow. That worries me a little. The hardest thing about leaving is knowing how sad this makes them. I don't want to hurt my parents. It makes me sad that this makes them sad. I don't blame them, though. I can imagine how I would feel if my daughter told me she was leaving the country, maybe forever, with my three grandchildren, and moving half way across the world to live a life of danger and sacrifice in order to do missions in a third world country.

I love my mom. She gave me life. I am forever indebted to her. So, after my husband brought me coffee in bed on Mother's Day (I don't need much more than that), we went over to my mom's to wash her clothes, clean out her garage, fill up her bird feeders, cook her lunch, and wash her dishes. I can't think of a better way to spend my Mother's Day than showing my mom how much I love her and appreciate all she's done for me in my life. I will miss her so much! I am so sad for my own kids who ADORE their Mom-Mom. In their eyes, she is just perfect. Mom-mom can do no wrong, and that's just the way I like it. I do hope we can come back and visit. But, even with that, we have to trust the Lord. I can't imagine having the money to come back at all, but we do pray we can at some point.

If I were to write a letter to my mother, this is what I would write. Hudson Taylor, famous missionary to China, wrote this letter to his mother. He sailed for China and never saw her again. We have it easy compared to Hudson Taylor's day. He put my feelings into words perfectly in this following letter to his mother:

"Do not let anything unsettle you, dear Mother. Missionary work is indeed the noblest mortals can engage in. We certainly cannot be insensible to the ties of nature, but should we not rejoice when we have anything we can give up for the Saviour? . . .

Continue to pray for me, dear Mother. Though comfortable as regards temporal matters, and happy and thankful, I feel I need your prayers. . . . Oh Mother, I cannot tell you, I cannot describe how I long to be a missionary; to carry the Glad Tidings to poor, perishing sinners; to spend and be spent for Him who died for me! . . . Think, Mother, of twelve millions - a number so great that it is impossible to realize it - yes, twelve million souls in China, every year, passing without God and without hope into eternity . . Oh, let us look with compassion on this multitude! God has been merciful to us; let us be like Him. . . .

I must conclude. Would you not give up all for Jesus who died for you? Yes, Mother, I know you would. God be with you and comfort you. Must I leave as soon as I can save money enough to go? I feel as if I could not live, if something is not done for China."

~ from Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret

Crazy Francis Chan

A few months ago I wrote about a book I was reading, Crazy Love by Francis Chan.

I had heard that he would soon be leaving his church and taking his family to Asia to live and minister for a few months.

This article, '"Christian Famous" Pastor quits his church, moves to Asia', has been flying around social media a lot lately - and I wanted to post it myself. Such good food for thought. I am inspired.

What's even more inspiring is the rescue mission in Thailand where they spent a whole month as a family. Sobbed.




His wife posted a few updates on his site (read from bottom to top) from their trip.

AWE-SOME. I am deeply moved. And I am so with them.

For Parents

Imagine you and your spouse receiving this letter from a young man bold enough ask for your daughter's hand in marriage:


"I have now to ask whether you can consent to part with your daughter early next spring to see her no more in this world. Whether you can consent to her departure for a heathen land, and her subjection to the hardships and sufferings of a missionary life. Whether you can consent to her exposure to the dangers of the ocean, to the fatal influence of the southern climate of India; to every kind of want and distress, to degradation, insult, persecution, and perhaps a violent death. Can you consent to all this for the sake of Him who died for her and for you?"


(Kind of puts parenting into perspective, doesn't it?)

Burma, aka Myanmar [photo credit: Hartfried Schmid]


This is an excerpt of a letter written by Adoniram Judson (1788-1850), missionary to Burma, to the father and mother of Ann Hasseltine, whom he would later marry and take with him to the mission field. Ann Hasseltine Judson was later to suffer most of the things Adoniram mentioned in this letter. She buried both her infant children, then died herself at the age of 37 on foreign soil.*

It took Adoniram Judson 24 full years to translate the entire Bible into Burmese. It is, to this day, the only translation of the Bible into the Burmese language.

*Great Women of the Christian Faith by Edith Deen

[Photo credit: National Geographic]

More Quotes from Shadow of the Almighty

[No, I did not post 6 times yesterday. Google clitch or something. Apparently I fixed it - just wish I knew what I did!]


Here are some more, hopefully awe- and obedience-inspiring, quotes from Shadow of the Almighty by Elizabeth Elliot. Jim Elliot writes in his journal and letters:


"Remember that we have bargained with Him who bore a cross, and... His emphasis was upon sacrifice, not of wordly goods so much as of family ties."

"I try to get in what I call 'reprobate reading,' a little every day, just to keep from dropping into the stereotyped and conventional."

"IITimothy 2:4 is impossible in the United States, if one insists on a wife."

"Does it sound harsh so to speak? Consider the call from the Throne above, 'Go ye,' and from round about, 'Come over and help us,' and even the call from the damned souls below, 'Send Lazarus to my brothers, that they come not to this place,' Impelled, then by these voices, I dare not stay home while Quichuas perish. So what if the well-fed church in the homeland needs stirring? They have the Scriptures, Moses, and the Prophets, and a whole lot more. Their condemnation is written on their bank books and in the dust on their Bible covers."

"So don't lose your daydreams. 'Nothing is too good to be: so believe, believe to see.' In my own experience I have found that the most extravagant dreams of boyhood have not surpassed the great experience of being in the Will of God..."

"The command is plain: you go into the whole world and announce the good news. It cannot be dispensationalized, typicalized, rationalized. It stands a clear command, possible of realization because of the Commander's following promise. To me, Ecuador is simply an avenue of obedience to the simple word of Christ. There is room for me there, and I am free to go."

"My going to Ecuador is God's counsel, as is my leaving, Betty, and my refusal to be counselled by all who insist I should stay and stir up believers in the U.S. And how do I know it is His counsel? 'Yea, my heart instructeth me in the night seasons.'"


For more read the rest of Shadow of the Almighty: The Life & Testament of Jim Elliot and  The Journals of Jim Elliot.

Awe-inspiring.

:)

Quotes from Shadow of the Almighty

I finally snagged my own copy of Shadow of the Almighty: The Life and Testament of Jim Elliot by Elisabeth Elliot.

Written by Jim Elliot's wife, Elisabeth, it also contains many writings by Jim - excerpts from his letters and journals, etc. I love the way both of the Elliots write. My copy has many markings and underlines already!


Here are just a few:

"Missionaries are very human folks, just doing what they are asked. Simply a bunch of nobodies trying to exalt Somebody."

"Walk as if the next step would carry you across the threshold of Heaven."

"I cannot hope to be absolutely honest in what is herein recorded, for the hypocrisy will ever be putting on a front and dares not write what is actually found in its abysmal depths." ~on his notebook journalings

"Guidance for Israel in their wanderings was unquestionable (Numbers 9). There could be no doubt if God wished them to move. Shall my Father be less definite with me? I cannot believe so. Often I doubt, for I cannot see, but surely the Spirit will lead as definitely as the pillar of cloud. I must be as willing to remain as to go, for the presence of God determines the whereabouts of His people."

"'He hath led me, and brought me into darkness, and not into light.' Because I cannot see, nor even assuredly feel, His satisfaction with me, I cannot doubt the leading simply because of the dark. The leading is nonetheless real, the pathway has simply been into a place I didn't expect or ask for."

"Our young men are going into the professional fields because they don't 'feel called' to the mission field. We don't need a call; we need a kick in the pants."

"Father, make of me a crisis man. Bring those I contact to decision. Let me not be a milepost on a single road; make me a fork, that men must turn one way or another on facing Christ in me."

"Yesterday I prayed that God would take me to Peru or Brazil before I pass another October 8. I know inside that the flesh would like more training - and perhaps I'm fitted to train more - everybody seems to be planning on it around here [at Wheaton]. But those generations passing away at this moment! They must hear of the Savior! How can we wait? O Lord of Harvest, do send forth laborers! Here I am, Lord. Behold me, send me."

"Mustard seed is rare stuff today."

Lies Homeschooling Moms Believe

So, before I wrap up Lies Homeschooling Moms Believe to ship out through Paperbackswap.com (and makes someone very, very happy - there was a long waiting list for this one!), I took one last look inside.

I got this book for free when I saw Todd Wilson speak at a homeschool fair. After he made us laugh til we cried, he handed us all a free copy.

After glancing one last time at the cartoons in this book, I am laughing out loud! Only homeschoolers will fully appreciate these. Maybe I should have held on to this one!

 

LOL!!! :)

Paperbackswap.com

I am having a GREAT time swapping books at Paperbackswap.com.

Get rid of all the books in your library you don't want, and get an equal amount of books for FREE.

Sign up is SUPER easy - all you do is pay for shipping when someone requests one of your books. Then, when you request one, they pay the shipping. GENIUS!

Check it out book lovers/homeschoolers.

:)

Poverty and Abundance

Economist Robert Heilbroner describes the luxuries a typical American family would have to surrender if they lived among the 1 billion hungry people in the Two-Thirds World:

We begin by invading the house of our imaginary American family to strip it of its furniture. Everything goes: beds, chairs, tables, television sets, lamps. We will leave the family with a few old blankets, a kitchen table, a wooden chair. Along with the bureaus goes the clothes. Each member of the family may keep in his wardrobe his oldest suit or dress, a shirt or blouse. We will permit a pair of shoes for the head of the family, but none for the wife or children.

We move to the kitchen. The appliances have already been taken out, so we turn to the cupboards.... The box of matches may stay, a small bag of flour, some sugar, and salt. A few moldy potatoes, already in the garbage can, must be rescued, for they will provide much of tonight's meal. We will leave a handful of onions and a dish of dried beans. All the rest we take away: the meat, the fresh vegetables, the canned goods, the crackers, the candy.

Now we have stripped the house: the bathroom has been dismantled, the running water shut off, the electric wires taken out. Next we take away the house. The family can move to the tool shed.... Communications must go next. No more newspapers, magazines, books - not that they are missed, since we must take away our family's literacy as well. Instead, in our shantytown we will allow one radio....

Now government serivices must go next. No more postmen, no more firemen. There is a school, but it is three miles away and consists of two classrooms.... There are, of course, no hospitals or doctors nearby. The nearest clinic is ten miles away and is tended by a midwife. It can be reached by bicycle, provided the family has a bicycle, which is unlikely....

Finally, money. We will allow our family a cash hoard of five dollars. This will prevent our breadwinner from experiencing the tragedy of an Iranian peasant who went blind because he could not raise the $3.94 which he mistakenly thought he needed to receive admission to a hospital where he could have been cured.

~from Revolution in World Missions, p.40

by K.P. Yohannan

3 questions every Christian needs to ask

1. In one sentence, what is the single most important thing you are going to do with the rest of your life?  (It can not be self-centered or wordly in nature, and it has to bring glory to God).
2. Why do you think God has allowed you to be born in North America or Europe rather than among the poor of Africa and Asia and to be blessed with such material and spiritual abundance?
3. In light of the superabundance you enjoy here, what do you think is your minimal responsibility to the untold millions of lost and suffering in the Two-Thirds World?

~from Revolution in World Missions

by K.P. Yohannan

order it free here

:)

A Doll and a Coat

The following is a true story that reminds me of a book I read to the kids several years ago, called The Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Andersen.  

Change the climate a little, and this story really could be from anywhere in Latin America.


A Doll and a Coat
by Shanie at LivingInPatagonia.com

 "The wind hit me like a freight train. People had warned about the ferocious Patagonian winds. They weren’t kidding.

I was on nothing more than a trip to the grocery store but the weather made it seem more like a trek. A gust blew up dirt and dry leaves, throwing it into my face, offering me a natural facial scrubbing. I spit out the remnants.

“Thank goodness for down jackets.” I yelled over the wind, trying to make silly conversation and light of the wintry weather. Jamie’s head was down, his shoulders pushing through the strength of the wind. There was no way that he heard me.

We finally made it to the front of the grocery store. Grasping the cold metal handle, I pulled hard against the blustery wind, trying to open the door. It blew the cold metal door back into me, making it feel as if I was pushing through a steel trap trying to hold me in.

And then I saw them.

Two little girls — maybe 6 and 9 in age — crouched in the lee-side of the door, huddled together trying to keep warm. Their tiny hands were stretched out. Little voices begged for some moneda.

I flashed them a smile. My heart dropped seeing their runny noses and bright red cheeks, colored by the freezing temperatures. The wind smacked the door against me and knocked me into the grocery store.

Try as I might, the look on the two girls faces would not leave my mind. Lettuce. Tomatoes. Cheese. How is any of this important? How can those two girls not be getting hypothermia out there?

I stopped Jamie in his tracks and said that we needed to go to the car. Without anymore explanations he knew what I meant.

We had two boxes of items in our car that just might bring a smile to the girl’s faces.

You see, before leaving the States to live in Argentina, there were two things that we accumulated from loved ones that we had brought with us to our new home.

The first came from my beloved Grandma who had fallen ill from a stroke. An avid collector of dolls, she had acquired or made over 500 that decorated every inch of her house. She and I had decided before Jamie and I left that I would give her much-loved dolls to children in need. The second came from many years skiing in the mountains…extra winter gear.

We went back outside. The girls were still there, huddled next to the entrance taking advantage of the escaping gasps of heat leaking through the entrance doors. Leaning down to their level, I explained to them that I didn’t have any moneda, but I did have something else that I wanted to give them. They both looked at me with both surprise and distrust in their eyes. I am sure that wonderment at this 30-something gringa was crossing their minds.

I motioned for them to stay where they were and that I would be right back. Jamie and I ran to the truck and grabbed a few suitable items, including a brand-new knee-length down jacket with a fur-rimmed hood that had been given to me by my little sister, Melea, and a precious blue-eyed, black-haired doll dressed in a frilly, white-laced dress complete with stockings, gloves and opalescent shoes.

We returned to the girls and offered our gifts. At first the look was questioning. Dismay passed quickly over the face of the older sister. She realized first that these presents of fun and warmth were for them. Her face suddenly lit up with a beaming smile that immediately brought tears to my eyes. She slipped the hip down jacket on. It fit her perfectly.

The little one didn’t care so much for the coat that came with her new baby doll. Her interest was enchanted by her new toy. She cradled the child to her chest, immediately becoming the little mommy to this doll that had an eerie resemblance to her own dark hair and mesmerizing eyes.

The moment plastered itself to my memory. The look of pure happiness was emanating from these two dear children.

How I wish I could give them more…

Go, Send, or Disobey

I just finished rereading Bruchko by Bruce Olson. I think it's one of my all-time favorite missionary stories.

An excerpt (pp.38-39):

The church was full. I had been reading about New Guinea and was looking forward to a firsthand report.

Mr. Rayburn showed movies that he had taken. In one scene, a man was eating a rat. You could see the tail hanging out of the man's mouth - then, phht, it was gone.

"That fellow eating the rat there. He's not a Christian," Mr. Rayburn said.

Poor fellow, I thought, remembering how miserable I had been before becoming a Christian.

There were other pictures: some of extreme poverty in the midst of modern cities, some of "natives" and their odd clothes, houses and eating habits. Then Mr. Rayburn made his appeal.

"These people are starving, dying of disease, living in ignorance, eating rats. But most of all they are starving for the knowledge of Jesus Christ. They are dying lost, without knowing how Jesus Christ can save them from their sins. Can you sit comfortably in your seats and accept that? They're dying, damned to eternal condemnation! And what do you do? Maybe if you're really virtuous you put a little money in the collection plate on Sunday morning. Maybe you put in a dollar to reach these people starving for the gospel.

"But Jesus wants more of you. He wants more than your lip service to the great cause of missions. It's your responsibility to take the gospel of Christ to these people. Otherwise their blood will be required of you."

That is exactly how I feel.

John Piper put it this way, "Go, send, or disobey."

And my heart resounds in agreement with Amanda Berry Smith: "To stay here and disobey God — I can't afford to take the consequence. I would rather go and obey God than to stay here and know that I disobeyed."

:)

Nate Saint on Things That Hold Us Back

I have about 10 books I'm reading right now, piled precariously high on my bedside table. One is Jungle Pilot: The Life and Witness of Nate Saint - the inventive genius of Operation Auca by Russell T. Hitt.

I had a friend over today and we were talking about missions. We were discussing why more American Christians aren't willing to leave it all and serve Christ with their lives in places that are in desperate need of hearing the Gospel. Even Nate Saint wondered about it, too, and relates it this way:

"We make sure that we don't carry anything in the airplane that isn't necessary. When our mission bought the plane, it had nice, soft seats in it. But we found that these seats weighed amost eight pounds each. So we decided to use harder seats that weighed only one pound, and take seven pounds of extra food and cargo.

On the wheels of the plane there were nice streamlined fenders - or pants as they call them. They looked very nice but inside they were full of heavy mud. We decided to take them off too.

You know, lots of things are like that - they feel nice, or they look nice but they don't help us to get the job done. They hold us back, so we need to get rid of them. The job that the Lord Jesus Christ has for you and me is not an easy one. If you want to serve Him, if you want to help win others to Christ, you will have to choose one thing or another. It may be something you like very much but something that will hold you back. When life's flight is over, and we unload our cargo at the other end, the fellow who got rid of unnecessary weight will have the most valuable cargo to present to the Lord. Not only that. There's another secret. Two airplanes may look alike, but one may be able to lift twice the load into the air. The difference is the horsepower of the engine. Bible reading is the power of the Christian life. Dead weight doesn't do you any good and a big plane with little horsepower doesn't go anywhere."

:)

On Angels and God's Protection

This story sent chills up my spine and gave Tony goosebumps! The following excerpt is from my latest $0.75 find at the local Library Book Sale. Well worth the read.

Light in the Jungle by Leo B. Halliwell, pp 10-13

setting: Amazon River, Brazil, 1930s

"It was our first trip up the river in our own boat, heading west from Belém. I was new to navigation, unused to the river, and unaware of the location of shoals and dangerous rock that could destroy us. A river guide could have guided us safely through, but a pilot is a professional man and earns a good deal more than we or any missionary could afford to pay. As neophytes on the river, we had no choice but to feel our way along and trust we would be guided.

In some areas the river is fairly well populated along the banks. This is particularly so in the tidal areas within a few hundred miles of the mouth.  There canoes come and go frequently, and at times we could see dozens of them going upstream close to the banks or downstream farther out in the river. Often the occupants would ask us to tow them along behind our boat; but because there were frequently so many and we couldn't take them all, we established from the start a policy of no hitchhiking.

Yet on this very first trip we broke our rule. We had reached a desolate area where the jungle closed in deep and green along the banks and there was no sign at all of habitation, only a kind of forlorn tropic hush, when suddenly we noticed, not too far from our boat, three men in a canoe. They were respectably dressed and when they called to us and asked us if we could tow them along behind us upstream, something impressed me. Something I did not understand led me almost involuntarily to reach out to the throttle and stop the boat.

"Jack," I called to my son, who was then about fifteen years old, "throw them a line." They came alongside and we made the canoe fast. One of them stayed in the canoe. The other two came aboard our boat and stood with Jessie and Jack and me near the wheel while we talked about the jute crop and the weather and the hazards of the shifting currents. They were friendly and we were having a pleasant chat when suddenly one of them said, "Which side of the rocks are you going on?"

I saw no rocks at all - only the green bank with its lovely Pan Rosa trees off the port side and the gray-yellow water of the Amazon. "What rocks?" I asked.

Without answering, the man grabbed the steering wheel out of my hands and turned it completely around. Our boat wheeled giddily and shot out away from the bank into the river. Then I looked back and saw, not twenty feet in front of where we had been heading, the jagged points of hundreds of rocks just beneath the surface of the water. One second more and we would have plowed into them and ripped our boat to shreds. We had no idea that these rocks were there and without our hitchhiking friends we would have lost our boat and, in all likelihood, our lives.

Our visitors seemed to take our expressions of gratitude almost casually, however; and a few moments after we had passed this dangerous section of the river, one of them said, "Sir, thank you for the ride. If you don't mind stopping here, we'll get out."

It seemed strange, for there were still no houses or any other sign of human habitation to be seen along the banks. But I stopped, and the men climbed into the canoe and pushed off into the current.

"Look out and see where those men go," I said to Jack. "There's no house around here."

It had been only a moment since they had left us. There were no bends in the river. But after scanning the river in all directions, my boy turned to me. "Dad, they've disappeared."

I turned from the wheel in amazement. There were no rocks, no debris, no sign of struggle or overturned canoe, no cry for help. Only the emptiness of the river and the mute green banks a hundred yards away - too far for them to have reached in that time. Yet the three men and their boat were nowhere to be seen.

We have always believed, Jessie and I, that these men, whoever and whatever they were, were sent to us, the protecting angels of Providence. Man's extremity - and sometimes even his ignorance - is God's opportunity."


*photo credit to my friend Leti, on our trip to the Amazon, 1998*

...more pics from the boat...

The Rest of Our Lives Suspended... Thoughts on Being Called

Elisabeth Elliot, missionary and widow of martyred missionary Jim Elliot, has written quite a bit about the topic of being called. In her short essay "But I Don't Feel Called" from her book All That Was Ever Ours..., she shares her own struggles in hearing God's call:

"What agonies I suffered as a young woman, straining my ears to catch the voice, full of fear that I would miss it, yet longing to hear it, longing to be told what to do, in order that I might do it. That desire is a pure one. Most of our desires are tainted at least a little, but the desire to do the will of God surely is our highest. Is it reasonable to think that God would not finally reveal it to us? Is it (we must also ask) reasonable not to use our powers of reason, given to us by him? Does it make more sense to go to the grocery store because groceries are needed than to go to foreign lands because workers are needed? If we deny the simple logic of going where the need is most desperate, we may... spend the rest of our lives suspended..."

I have thought about the whole issue of "being called" for years. The calling has always (for me) been based first and foremost, even solely, in God's word. I have never needed to hear a voice, I've never prayed for a "sign", and have never really expected either. It's plain as day to me that I am "called" because I can read God's word in the Bible. But God doesn't call me to be a missionary, he commands me to go. He commands so many things, I can find out what they are if I simply open my Bible. The question is not the call, it's the obedience. It's not about feeling called, it's about obeying God's commands.

"Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says." - James 1:22

My son's study Bible has a little blip inserted around Acts13:2 which asks, "What is a missionary?". It simply says that "missionaries are people who travel to tell others about Jesus".

The word "missionary" never actually appears in the Bible. God calls us witnesses. A witness is someone who has seen something. We are all called to be witnesses for Christ. You are either a good one, or a bad one. But you are one.

Most of us know what we are called to. We just get stuck on the obedience part.

Did Jesus say that only certain people are called to be workers in the Kingdom?
To fulfill the Great Comission?
Did Jesus say you must go to seminary first? (not that this is bad)

Don't wait for a special sign.

Don't wait for the sky to part and angels to sing the Hallelujah Chorus.

Don't wait your whole life for the "right" time. Don't wait until you're "ready" (whatever that means). The sign may never come, it's potentially never the right time, and you will never be fully ready. It's kind of like parenthood, you decide to go for it, and then you find out the only way you can survive it is by the grace of God.

My two cents, for what it's worth. (not that you should listen to me) :D

*photo credit The Cloud Appreciation Society*

What Humility Looks Like...

We were so early no one was even checking tickets, so we walked into the 5,000-seater church to grab some seats for the show. Ten or 12 of us had piled into someone's Suburban and driven the three hours north to Kalispell from the University of Montana campus in Missoula.

There was a single grand piano on stage, a man with long hair bent over the keys, sound checking it we assumed. So we threw down our jackets and wandered back into the lobby to look around. Several minutes later, the long-haired man walked up behind us.

"Hi, where are you guys from?"

It was Rich Mullins! He had grown his hair out so no one had recognized him.

I'll never forget that moment. Not because I was star-struck, because I wasn't really. I didn't really know who he was, didn't know much about him, or that he was so "famous" in certain circles.

What struck me was that he approached us. This really, really well-known {FAMOUS} musician came down from stage to come say hi to us. Just like he knew us. Like an old friend.

He was SO nice. And normal. And human. Just a guy making conversation.

I remember standing there completely shocked that he was so... humble.

Wow, Christians are different.

Not long after that concert, Rich Mullins moved onto an Indian Reservation in the Southwest to share Christ with Native Americans through music.

He probably made millions in his career through record sales, but never knew how much he really made because he gave it all away and lived on a small fixed income from his music sales. He lived for a time in a one-room attic apartment with few material possessions. "Hold me Jesus" was filmed there.




What humility looks like.

Read snipits from the Biography of Rich Mullins.