Make Every Day a Norma-l Day

I am NOT super kind.

But I AM afraid of being the rich man in the story of Lazarus the beggar, who died and suffered eternally for being a selfish man.

That is why I didn’t send Norma away on her first visit to my house. Not long into our conversation, I realized that Norma probably had some learning issues. She was about my age, stocky, and badly in need of some dental work, which I later related to her great love of sweets.

It was a sunny, hot afternoon about two months ago when Norma first came to my door. Our conversation went like this:

“Hi. There was an older lady who lives here who told me that I could come and get a piece of cake this afternoon. Can I talk to her?”

Me: “I’m the lady of the house here, and there isn’t one older than me.”

Norma: “Well, she told me I could have a piece of cake.”

Me: “I don’t have a piece of cake.”

Norma: “Do you have something to eat?”

The conversation (or better said, barrage of requests) continued on…..Norma wanted to be certain that she asked for all her favorite things. She asked me for something sweet to drink, for jewelry, for purses (she LOVES purses), desserts, jello, cookies for her son. She has also had two birthdays in the short time I have known her. 😊 Norma began to visit me regularly…every other day, sometimes every afternoon. I put a stop to the daily visits, as I realized that soon I would have to budget Norma into my grocery trips if I didn’t. I told her she could come once a week, which she MOSTLY abides by.

Norma has impacted my life in the strongest of ways, and probably not in the way you might think. All of you mercy people out there are thinking about all the nice things you might do for Norma, and assume that it is kindness that motivates me. Don’t be deceived. I usually know from her persistent ring that she is at my door, and it is not mercy that makes me answer. I just give her what she wants because I am obliged to care for the poor and because if I don’t, she will continue to pester me anyway. The real thing about Norma that speaks to me is that she NEVER STOPS ASKING FOR STUFF!  She is one of the most persistent people I have ever met. If an entrepreneur went after business opportunities the way Norma does with jello, they would be a millionaire.  I HATE asking for things, and Norma reminds me every week that he who does not ask does not get.

I am in a season where I am forging new territory with ministry to university students. I have to ASK---pastors, university officials, prospective student leaders. Over and over again. After the third try, I want to give up. But then there is Norma in my mind, asking for gelatin. And I knock again. Norma is God’s way of telling me that if I would just keep pushing, I would get more of what I want! The woman with the unjust judge cries out until he gives her what she wants, not because he likes her or even cares for her needs, or about justice. He does it because she is driving him nuts. I relate.

One day, I didn’t have any food for her. She was sorely disappointed. She kept running through her list. Nothing. I was ready to send her on her way with a pack of cookies and a drink of water (sometimes I get stubborn about the sweet drinks issue, thinking it is better to give her water). Then like a light going off, she asked for flan. I realized I had the remains of a HUGE flan in the fridge that my flan-loving husband wouldn’t finish because of his travels. I told her that, yes, I actually DID have flan! She literally jumped up and down with excitement. She had hit the jackpot! I was flabbergasted that she had just happened to ask for something that was in my house, that usually wasn’t. It was almost like an angel playing a joke on me had dropped it into her mind.

One day, it’s going to be my flan day. A door will open on a campus that looked impenetrable a day before, or someone will decide to become a disciple of Jesus because I listened to the Holy Spirit. I'll risk crossing the line of making a bother of myself.  I will put on a little bit of Norma-tude, and a huge portion of Holy Spirit-gifted flan will fall in my lap. I may even do a Norma dance. And then I'll do it again!

Do I hate support raising?

A lot of people ask, "Don't you hate support raising?" The answer is no -- though it can be very challenging. I like to call our time of raising our missionary budget as a time of connection. Here's what I wrote to a friend in Peru today: "We feel the Lord's calling strongly (to the mission field), so we know that this time of connection here in the states is temporary. We embrace it for a time, drinking in our time with our loved ones here and encouraging the American church to not forget that the great commission is still the heart of the Father." The last line is important: God is still calling his church to fulfill the great commission! 

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Why I disciple

This from Bill:

Matthew 28:18-20 is the Great Commission, in which Jesus commands us to "make disciples." But, that isn't what motivates me. On an emotional or motivational level, the reason why I disciple people is that I’ve had a life changing encounter with Jesus that is real and profoundly positive. It’s not like everything that happens to me is positive, but experiencing Christ and being transformed by Him – that has been overwhelmingly positive. I strive to introduce others to Jesus and his way of life because I want them to have as good a life as I have. I frequently challenge young adults who are making self-defeating decisions to imitate my life, because I know that I have a better marriage and a happier life than the vast majority of the world. “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile. (Romans 1:16)”

God's Got Your Numbers

This from Lena:

Every once in a while these days, I slip up and count out 6 plates instead of the 5 our family now requires.    We left one of our best legacies (our 19 year-old Hannah) back home in the States this past summer.  I hate when I miscount, because it usually brings with it a pang of missing my oldest  daughter, my no-nonsense, type-A extrovert sunshine.  My Peruvian motherly friends are wonderful for consoling me, as most of them find the thought of sending their sweet baby birds out into the world for the sake of education a ghastly proposition.   Still, like the rest of my American Mom friends, I believe in the value of giving that little birdie some help out of the nest. 

Almost ten years ago, we had no plans to go full-size on the mini-van.  Our cap family-size number was 5—a very practical number that we had settled on because at the time there was a three-child cap in missions of the Assemblies of God, and we felt that we would go into missions some day, and wanted to go with the Assemblies.  We decided to plan 2, and leave a little room for a surprise, but something had happened years earlier that planted a tiny questioning seed about whether our numbers were going to line up with God’s.

Years earlier, when we were trying to get pregnant with our second child,  we received a cryptic phone call from a member of our church. 

Prophetic Lady: “Pastor Bill, do you know whether or not that baby your wife is carrying is a boy?”  (She did not know that we were trying to have a baby, and for all we knew at the time, I was not pregnant.)

Bill: “My wife isn’t pregnant.”

Prophetic Lady: “Oh, I see.   Well, you do know the families___________and___________---do you know that I prophesied their babies?” (This is not an exact quote, just so you get the drift).  “Well, Pastor Bill, can I ask you how many children do you plan on having?”

Bill (read in slightly uncomfortable tone): “Uh…two?”

Prophetic Lady: “Why not four?”

That phone conversation never left us completely; especially because just a short while after, we found out we were indeed pregnant, and we were having a boy!  We laughed about it through the years, how surprising it was that our sister knew before we did that we were pregnant with a boy, but never in a mocking way, as if the entirety of that word might not be true.  Bill and I both believe that God can and does at times speak prophetically into the lives of his children.  We also understand that the best-intentioned child of God needs some room for error, so we weigh these things against the Word of God and what actually comes to pass.

Years passed (around 6 of them), and the desire to go into missions grew, and it went into overdrive when we received a prophetic gift of two alpaca sweaters (you will have to read about our call in this blog for THAT story!).  The day we received that gift was within 24 hours of us finding out that we were going to have Abigail.  The fourth baby.  The not-planned baby.  The baby that would disqualify us for missions with the Assemblies, arriving at the same moment as the call.

Except for it didn’t disqualify us.  We didn’t even know, but at that time the child limit had been lifted.  We also had not taken our age into account, because previously we would not have qualified because we were over 35.  Over 35, four kids….and headed into missions.

When I think of how all of that converged, I am in awe of His math. He knows all our numbers….the happy ones and the sad ones.  He knows how many kids we will have, the day we lose our parents, the day we graduate from college.   He knows how many houses we will live in, and even the house addresses.  He knows the day you lost the baby, and that that same baby is now safe and happy with him.  The mature among us acknowledge that all those numbers are best left safely in his hands, without us trying to cajole Him to a pre-mature release of information. He shares what will be to our benefit, and we trust Him with the rest.

When I think of what I would have missed if my plan had been the end of it, I am filled with thankfulness.  I can’t imagine life without our little number 6, and I can’t help but wonder what other mysterious un-planned numbers He holds that I wouldn’t ever choose for myself, but will treasure some day.  Those mysterious numbers can be like a gift so well-chosen, and yet you hadn’t thought of before….and over time, it becomes one of your favorites.  

Momma Lena Got Keys...Divine Irony in Motion

This from Lena:

I cried in front of the tester the day I took my driver's license test.  I was 24 years old.  I slept less the night before I took that test than I did the night before I got married, a few months later.  My wise fiance had challenged me  to finally kill the beast and get my license, thus making me a more equal partner in the marriage rather than someone he would have to cater to.  I knew it was the right thing.  I was petrified.

I had never parallel-parked successfully.  Ever.  The evening before I spent crying out to God for help. I went to my prayer closet a desperate woman.  I remember hearing one thing in my heart--that I was to cast out my net one more time, like Peter when he had fished all night and had not caught anything.  One hour before my scheduled test, I went out to the driveway gripping my cones, full of grim determination.  I managed to pull off one successful park, and then it was off to the exam.  I cried so hard in the car when the tester corrected me that he asked my if my boyfriend beat me.  Oh my.  I don't even know why he gave me the license, because he could have flunked me.  But I got it.

I wanted to tell you this story, because I want you to grasp how extremely ridiculous it is that God sent me to a city of 9 million people,  teeming with 20-year-old minivans with doors that don't even close anymore that dodge in and out of traffic, and buses doing the same, not to mention taxis that make it impossible to take a right turn from the right-hand lane....you have to see it to believe it.  Or live in Africa or India.  Or Mexico City.  Someplace like that.   There is nothing in the States that comes close.

Divine Irony.  His power made perfect in our weakness.  It has taken me close to three years, but I am no longer paralyzed by the thought of driving in Lima at night.  I drive about an hour in Lima traffic Wednesday nights to our dear church, located in an area where you don't tell taxis you are going, or they won't take you there.  The further out I get, the more mototaxis there are, which I call buzzy bees, because that is the sensation they create as they zip through traffic.  Sometimes something a little scary happens, but mostly I am just so thankful not to be petrified anymore to do it.

I am not telling this story to make you think I am courageous or special.  It is just the opposite.  I am telling you because it knocks my socks off that the Lord has taken me this far.  I still can't parallel park for beans, and I stink at judging whether I can fit in a parking space.  I know I look like a dork at some point most days, wielding my huge minivan through the streets of Lima, and I wonder if my kids' friends are like, "Are you SURE you want to ride with Mrs. SHRADER?"   If the angels get a good laugh watching me run the streets of Lima,  I suppose that is fine with me as long as they keep me out trouble.  And if the Lord gets special delight out of watching his timid little Ohio driver take on traffic so she can be a worthy partner with Him, I am alright with that, too.

A Severe Pruning

Our journey into missions started with a bang!  We had prophetic words from God, incredible excitement, great vision deep in our hearts, and an assurance that God was up to something big!

We had no idea what we had just stepped into.

I won’t bore you with the details, but I can tell you this--- I was not prepared for the gut-wrenching trial that we were about to step into.  We went through relational trials, legal trials, relational trials….did I mention relational trials?  I loved our new world, and at the same time, I feared it, that it would take me out before our adventure had even had a chance to take root.  Never in my life had I undergone what I will call such a severe pruning.  The kind of pruning where you look at the bush you just hacked and wonder if it can survive with so few leaves left.  

We landed back in the States like people jumping off a train—still rolling, rolling, rolling.  You stop a second to ask yourself if you can get up or if you need to wait for the ambulance.  You find that, yes, you can get up, and you start doing normal things.  I painted the house for two months straight.  I was very, very happy to just paint the house, if you know what I mean. 

We came back to Lima, not sure how we would be there.  We got settled in, and things felt pretty good.  It felt pretty normal.  Bill and I both started pressing in to the Lord, finding that place with Him that is the bedrock of everything that we build—just a place of communion.  I started praying in the Spirit a lot.  I started seeing branches sprouting on my little bush of a life, and before I knew it, I felt good.  Really good.

Severe pruning over.  Thank God it is over!!

But I will tell you, that as scary as it was for me, as deeply pained as I felt, I can tell you that the branches that are growing back are thicker and healthier than I have ever seen on my little bush.  When all my precious leaves were taken from me, and I sat barren for what seemed like such an unbearable time, wondering if I would ever be the same again, something was happening deep inside of me.  In the middle of excruciating pain, we can quote the passages of hope, but we don’t usually feel them.  It takes such a long time, but one day, it is there.  It is over, and we are not the same.  We are better.  We weren’t sure we would even survive, but there it is.  Buds are everywhere.  EVERYWHERE!!!  THANK GOD, THANK GOD!!!  EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!

I am so thankful to my God the Gardener,  who watered my little bush faithfully, put some manure down in the right season, and waited patiently for his work to be seen. 

Top 10 of 2011

The Shrader Family’s 

Top 10 of 2011

Greetings Friends & Family!

Dr. Bill & his lovely bride

Each year it is Lena’s practice to put together a Top 10 list of the year.   As we say goodbye to 2011, we have much to celebrate:

10.  Bill graduated with his doctorate in Leadership and celebrated his 50^th birthday with a rollicking, crazy, bigger-than-our-wedding party.  Our dear friends and long-term supporters, the Wolfs, hosted it all, and made several runs for more food.  Many friends came from far away, and it was such a touching moment in our lives.  We will never forget it.

9.  The Shrader Family made it back to Peru on time and by the moving of God’s hand in our favor.  Though our missions support was below our projections, God spoke that we were to trust Him to get back on time and by a miracle.  We did and He did—using our circumstances to put His “amen” on our return.  I am so thankful for a God who takes us to the rollercoaster edge of faith and then comes through.  Thanks, also, to all who have partnered with us!

Bill with LACC kids in Peru

8.  We were home through all of the crucial moments in my dad’s illness and in his consequent home going.  It is hard to explain to anyone who has not lived overseas how excruciating it is to think that important family moments are clicking by without you, and that you are missing your own history.  Of course, God is in control and brought us home at just the right time.  I was with my dad, Sam Bellitto, when he went to meet the Lord.  His last words to me were on his birthday, February 17^th.  I had plopped myself on his bed in a funny way to try to lighten up the situation, and he responded with a fuzzy, “Hi, Honey!”—the way he always did.  Never, ever, ever have I questioned my dad’s pleasure in my presence.  Now I know what a gift that is.

7.  Bill and I celebrated 20 wonderful years together. Our marriage, like our calling, has been a blessed adventure.

Colton & Hannah

6.  Hannah continues to soar musically.  Hannah continues to grow musically and makes us very proud with her accomplishments.  We love to hear her lead worship—she ushers in the Presence of the Lord in an amazing way—displaying an anointing that goes beyond talent.  I think of the days when I twirled her around during worship because I wanted her to love experiencing God, and my heart overflows with thanksgiving.

5.  Colton becomes a handsome young man, but “keeps his head on straight.”  Colton has grown into an enviable adolescence.  He got a lot of attention from girls in the States, but kept his eyes on the Lord and had a great testimony in our public school system.  He is a wise young man and uses his gifts to influence others for the Lord.  He’s also passed the requirements for the President’s physical fitness award.

Will

4.  Will survives two school transitions and displays great rhythm.  Will enjoys riding his brother’s skateboard and displays natural rhythm playing the bongos. He loves to read (especially super hero stories and Calvin and Hobbes). Previously he struggled to speak Spanish, but he has good comprehension—surprising us when we heard him translating a Spanish children’s book for his little sister.

Abigail

3.  Abi holds her ground and re-enters Spanish world.  Abi was the best Spanish speaker in the family when we left Peru for the States, but she suffered the most upon our return—having forgotten most of it.  Our first Sunday back in Peru, she had tears streaming down her face and said, “I don’t understand what they’re saying!” She has been a trooper and is regaining much of the Spanish she lost. Nothing touches me like when one of our kids does something brave. 

2.  The Shrader family got to enjoy being home—including snow, blueberries, and American food—but mostly FRIENDS AND FAMILY! 

1. The Shrader family got to return to Peru—including sand, llamas, and Peruvian food—but mostly the blessed adventure of walking with Christ! We’re excited about what God is doing as we preach, teach and direct Latin America ChildCare in Peru. Thanks to LACC and the Wonderful Ohio Women (WOW) of the Assemblies of God for raising funds to build a new High School in Catacaos. Thanks also to the many teams who are coming down to join us in the blessed adventure that is shaping up for 2012!

With much love in Christ,

Lena & Bill Shrader

Spirtual Gestation

This from Lena:

"Mom, I really want to go to South Africa."

I had noticed that most of Hannah's old friends from church were going on the trip, and I realized that she would feel lonely and a bit left out of things while they were gone, but I hadn't once considered her going. One of the moms, an old friend from church had broached the topic with me (of Hannah maybe going), and I brushed if off quickly and easily. After all, Hannah was only just coming from the mission field, we were exhausted from having only recently arrived in the States, and were struggling to make our old house living-ready, watching the earnings from having rented it disappear. So I went with my first instinct, and said a resounding "No!" Bill, always the less impulsive parent of the two of us, gave a more reason-centered answer. He said that she could go if she could raise the money. Almost as good as a no.

I softened (like I usually do) and told Hannah that she at least had to write to pastor Dele and find out what we would have to do to get her on that trip. She was scared, but I told her that this was good practice--that anything worth having in life requires a little fight from us. Little did I know that her letter would move the hearts of our pastoral staff and others to get behind her and put her on that flight with her friends. All of this happened in the space of a week and a half, from start to finish. At one point, we were even grappling with the possibility of putting her on a flight by herself, to catch up with the rest of the team in Johannesburg. Oh my.

My point? At some point in all of this process, I felt the control of it completely leave my hands. Hannah was praying, seeking God's will, fasting. And as I continued to "raise issues" with the process, explaining why it couldn't happen, or wouldn't be prudent, the Lord seemed to be turning to me and saying, "Thank you for your services. I greatly appreciate your input. Hannah's roots have now matured to the point that she and I can have private conversations that don't involve you. So, I'll take it from here."

We know that when a child turns 7, they start losing teeth. When they turn 16, they get a driver's license. But when does a child reach their full spiritual gestation period? When they start going to the Lord on their own, hearing His voice for themselves. At that point, even though I may be kept on as a "consultant," my full-time job as interpreter of God's will for their lives is over. And they might be 15 or 20, but when that happens, it is over. I was shocked, and yet I knew it was true. My baby girl was working out her own salvation.

So, here is my celebration of Hannah's spiritual independence. Like all those other benchmarks of growth, I will adjust to the changes it brings, but I know that this one is supremely important, and will guide all the rest of the decisions of her life far better than if I stayed that "contact person" for God. She went to South Africa, blessed a lot of orphans, and even received some words from the Lord for her life. It will be a pleasure to watch it unfold.

Work while it is day

Since being back in the states, we've been asked two questions: How does it feel to be home? And, are we going back? The answer to the first question is "Great!" Being home is fabulous--it is warm here, my mother is a great cook, and people all speak the same language. We're also enjoying how clean and green Ohio is. The transition has been somewhat difficult physically, but very rewarding emotionally. So many friends and family members have helped us, I don't know if I've ever felt so loved and supported. (Thanks everyone!)

So, if it's so great being home, are we planning to return to Peru? Absolutely! There is yet much work to be done. Our first term was very successful, in terms of accomplishing our ministry goals, and that gave us a rewarding sense of accomplishment. But it wasn't a complete sense of accomplishment. Rather, the first term now feels like it was a prelude to the real victories that are yet to come--especially now that we know much more of the language and culture. Some missionaries who feel like I do, feel constrained or hindered by the need to return to the states, but I feel very much the opposite. Rather than feeling like itineration has taken me from the work, I feel like it's part of the work. I'm eager to share about the miracles that God is doing and I'm eager for our friends and supporting churches to understand how valuable their partnership is. So, I feel blessed to be a part of the work and blessed to share the fruit of it with those who've sacrificed to make it possible. And, as much as I'm enjoying being home, I'm aware of the continuing harvest that awaits us in Peru. The Holy Spirit is transforming the lives of hundreds of families in Peru. I want to put my hand to the plow with Jesus and work while it is still day!

Taxi Tales

One of the really wonderful things about life in Lima is that a person can get into a taxi at whatever moment, and launch into a conversation about practically whatever topic you like, and you will find a willing conversation partner. Enjoyable for most, but a jackpot for those of us who like to talk about Jesus!!

One day, I was on my way to a meeting with my pastor’s wife, and met a taxista with whom I had a great conversation. I have found myself, in the last 6 months or so, speaking strongly about the nature of salvation to those I witness to. I have gotten the rather strong impression from several people that they got that whole holiness thing confused—that they somehow have the impression that they have to get their lives together first, and then they will be good enough to go to God, do the church thing.

It is easy to talk about the Lord here—and even more so, because I am a missionary. When I get into a taxi, I often get asked, “Why did you come here from your country?” My reply is almost always “The call of God!” That leads really easily into a little history of our call, and talk of spiritual things.

This particular day, I found a taxi driver who had gone through some difficult life challenges recently, and we talked extensively about the nature of salvation, how no one is good enough to merit salvation-how we are all sinners, in need of a savior. He began to weep, and as he drove, he asked if there might be a prayer or something he could pray to make a decision for Christ. I honestly thought he was joking, or had done it before, but he assured me that he had never prayed a prayer of salvation before. I couldn’t believe it! What an awesome moment.

We made arrangements to take him to church, but as happens often with follow up, that was the last I saw of him. Of course, the best is if we can manage to tie people into a congregation, but we must leave these things in the hands of the Lord when things don’t go according to plan, as we would like. But what an awesome moment! Makes a missionary girl all smiley inside!!

Why we're here

Recently, I saw a proverb spray-painted on a crumbling brick wall. It read: Literacy is social justice. It struck me to the core. Millions of people in Peru are oppressed, because they can't read or write. They can't find a job, because they can't read the classifieds in the newspaper. They can't sign a lease to rent an apartment. They can't even read the prices of food in the grocery store. Consequently, everyday, people take advantage of them. They are without hope.

That's why we're here. The love of Christ compels us.

Peru has the worst education in all of Latin America. Our ministry (Latin America ChildCare) is a sponsorship ministry. Willing sponsors help poor children to go to a quality, Christian school, where they get a good education and hear the Gospel. Those two (education and salvation) change the future of a family forever.

The on-line journal Living in Peru reports, “According to a report released by the World Economic Forum (WEF) … out of 131 countries ranked in the world, Peru was in last place in the quality of its elementary school education and in 130th place in the areas of math and science.”(1) The World Bank reports that the predominant issue of education in Peru is one of quality verses quantity. According to Daniel Cotlear of the World Bank, Peru increased access to education “by lowering the standards, so that what you ended up with was very high levels of coverage, but very poor quality.”(2)

---

[1]“Peru Ranked Last in the World in Quality of Education,” Living in Peru Web site. Available from http://www.livinginperu.com/news-5061-education-peru-ranked-last-world-quality-education, Accessed 8 November 2007.

[2]“Finding Quality Education in Peru,” The World Bank Latin America & Caribbean Web site. Available from http://web.worldbank.org/WBSITE/EXTERNAL/COUNTRIES/LACEXT/0,,contentMDK:20983999~menuPK:258569~pagePK:2865106~piPK:2865128~theSitePK:258554,00.html, Accessed 28 September 2008.

Our Call - The LACC connection

In 1988 Lena had a vision of a mother and child who were Latino. She knew that God was calling her to minister to women and children, so she applied to work with Latin America ChildCare. They wrote her back saying that they’d love to have her work with them, but that she first had to become a licensed Assembly of God minister. She didn’t feel called to pursue ministerial credentials, so she threw the letter away and put the vision in God’s hands. She believed the vision was from God and she knew that God would bring it about—but she didn’t know how.

In March of 2000 we took some Chi Alpha students on a missions trip to Mexico. While there, we drove through a barrio of what I call “economic orphans.” It was full of kids without parental presence. I asked where their parents were and the missionary we worked with said their parents were migrant farm workers harvesting crops in another state. Then I asked why the kids weren’t in school. The missionary said that the government requires them to pay $50 to buy a school uniform, which their parents couldn’t afford. She said that their parents never went to school, that these kids would never go to school and that their kids would never go to school. Their only hope was to walk around aimlessly until they were old enough to work the migrant fields themselves.

I broke into tears and prayed, “Lord, I beg of you, if you ever move me out of campus ministry, I pray that you will put me in a ministry where we can change the lives of kids like these!”

On Christmas Eve, 2003, we received gifts of alpaca sweaters from Peru (see “Our Call – the Sweaters”). Our friend who gave us the sweaters said, “There’s a message from God in those sweaters.” So, we started praying. Obviously, we wondered if God was calling us to Peru as missionaries, but we were trying to keep an opened mind, so that we didn’t make a presumptuous mistake. A month later, in January 2004, I went to a World Missions fly in (where execs meet with pastors). I asked the Latin America representative what was going on in Peru. He said that the Peruvian Assemblies of God had been begging for missionaries for years, but that no one was willing to go. He continued to say that there was a ministry there called Latin America ChildCare (LACC). They put schools in impoverished communities, buy the kids a school uniform, feed them a hot lunch, bring in medical teams, give them the Gospel and do ministry outreaches to the families and community. But in Peru, they were without a director. They weren’t feeding anyone anymore, they were letting teachers go and turning students away. I remembered my prayer in Mexico and felt God’s hand on our lives. I went home and asked Lena if she’d ever heard of Latin America Childcare. She said, “Don’t you remember? I applied to work with them when I got out of college.” We held that LACC brochure in our hands and could feel the hands of God around our lives. He knew what would be needed back in 1988! He used my prayer and Lena’s vision to confirm our call to Peru, and not just to Peru, but also to LACC. So, one of the things we’ll be doing in Peru is directing Latin America ChildCare.

Peruvian Sweaters - a poem by John Wootton

After hearing the story of our calling, our friend John Wootton wrote the following:

There's an amazing story how the calling of God
Works on us now for what He's planned later
How he weaves details together at just the right time
As in the case of Bill & Lena Shrader

Yes, we might question if we've heard from the Lord
Sure, we might discard LACC* letters
But God has a way of preparing our hearts
So we're called by Peruvian sweaters


*LACC stands for Latin America Child Care--one of the ministries we'll be working with in Peru.

Our Call - The Sweaters

On Christmas Eve of 2003, a friend gave us two Christmas gifts. They were alpaca sweaters from Peru. She proceeded to tell us that in 1993, ten years prior, she did a missions trip to Peru. While she was there, the Lord spoke to her and told her to buy these two sweaters and to wait until He told her who to give them to and when. She waited ten years. The Lord spoke and told her to give them to us Bill and Lena Shrader.

As I stared at my sweater, our friend said, “There’s a message from God in those sweaters.”

I said, “What is it?”

She said, “That’s for you to find out.” (Note: never trust a prophet who does your homework for you. When the going gets tough, you need to know you got your orders from God.)

I took up the challenge and took my sweater to our bedroom, where I do my morning devotions. I would lay the sweater out on the bed and kneel with my forehead on the sweater. I cried out, “God, what’s the message?!” I cried that out, over and over.

In the second month, I changed the prayer to, “If you want us to go to Peru, just say the word. IF you want us to go to Peru, just say the word.”

By the time we reached the third month, my heart had started to change. After 20 years of working with college students, my heart was starting to change. In the third month, I took the word “if” off of my prayers and started praying, “Just say the word.”

By the fourth month, God had spoken so dramatically that I knew I was in disobedience praying about it anymore. The time for prayer had past. It was time for action. I picked up my sweater and said, “Father, I’m going to Peru!” But there was still some fear in my heart, so I added, “And if this turns out to be a big mistake, you’re going to have to stop me.” Even as I said it, I knew it was no mistake.

P.S. People ask us if the sweaters fit. The answer is a resounding Yes.

Our Call -- The Pregnancy Prophecy

When we tell the Story of our calling to Peru, we usually begin with the sweaters we received on Christmas Eve 2003. (stay tuned for "the Sweaters" post -- coming soon to a blog near you!) But the story really begins on Dec. 23rd, 2003 at about 10:30 pm. We'd just had my family over to celebrate Christmas, but what was on my mind was the question of whether or not Lena was pregnant. We hadn't told anyone about our suspicions. I was certain of it--so certain that I'd bought Lena a pregnancy test strip, which came back negative. I didn't believe the negative report, so a few days later I bought another one. After my family left for the evening, Lena tried the second test strip. This time it was positive. As we looked at the positive test strip, we both said, "The prophecy is true!"

Six years prior, we received a prophecy that we'd have four kids. We had previously said that we were only planning on two kids...three at the most. Will (our third child) was a surprise. Abigail (the fourth) was a total shock! As we stared at the postitive reading (a little blue plus sign), we could feel God's hand on our lives. He didn't ask our permission to have another child--we'd already surrendered our lives to him. At that moment, a fourth child seemed like an incredible addition to our already stretched organizational capacities. But it didn't matter. We knew in our hearts that God was in control. We came to realize that the fulfillment of this prophecy was part of God's plan for revealing to us just how much He was in control. The next day we received two sweaters and a message from God. The pregnancy test strip (and the prophecy it fulfilled) prepared our hearts.