Fear

Our trip to Piura and Trujillo was really long--20 hours of driving north, then 20 hours back to Lima. One friend said it sounded "crazy long." It was crazy, but not because of the length,...rather, because of the fear! For a large part of the driving, I was very afraid. Early on in the trip, we were stopped by a cop who wanted a bribe. He had an accent that was unbelievably thick. So, I was nervous, not knowing what my rights were or what the proper response was. He was applying pressure for me to pay him off. At the same time, I had to keep asking him to repeat himself. That frustrated him. When Lena told him that we were Christians who do not pay bribes, he backed off of his extortion attempt, but was still agitated. He told us about bandits attacking cars on the highway at night. He did this to frighten us, but it is nonetheless a legitimate warning. The bandits wait until the dark of night, then put logs or rocks in the highway to force you to stop. If they can blow out a tire, they wait until you get out of the car to change the tire. I have a friend who was attacked in this way. He and his wife lost $800, all their jewelry and nearly their lives. When the cop stopped us, we were still many hours from our destination, meaning that we had to drive on a deserted highway in the dark. Once the sun set, I was filled with fear. I’m not accustomed to being afraid and it was an unpleasant experience. It left my body full of nervous chemicals that clouded my brain when I needed to think clearly. The good news is that we made it to our hotel safely and were not stopped by bandits or extortionists. (Praise the Lord!) After a few more days, with more time on the highway (during daylight), I eventually got to the point where my fears lessened. At that point, I started to enjoy the trip and felt more capable of handling the challenges ahead.

The kids asked, "What are bandits?" The kids had never even thought of the possibility of being robbed on the highway. It made Lena and I aware of how blessed people are in the US. We've driven all over the US where, apart from the inner city, I never feared of being robbed. But, now we’re not in the US anymore and are much more able to empathize with the Apostle Paul. He traveled all over the middle east and Europe—on foot! In 2 Corinthians 11:26-30, Paul wrote, “I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn? If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness.”

Becoming a missionary definitely reveals your weaknesses. So, I’m going to take this opportunity to proudly boast, “I was afraid!”

(The pictures are of the road. That's me driving. The first picture shows desert brush; the second, desert sand that goes on for miles and, finally, a fort left over from an ancient civilization.)

A long journey

We just returned from a trip to Catacaos (near Piura). It took about 20 hours to drive there--all of it on a two lane road with an average speed limit of about 40 miles per hour. It reminded me of what it must have been like when my parents drove from Ohio to Florida in the early 50's. The good news is that it was hot. It's currently winter in Lima, so the sun and the heat were welcome. Here are a couple of shots of the kids in the Betel school in Catacaos.

Dunkin Donuts -- Nutricious!

In Hebrews 11:1, the Bible says that "faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." That is definitely the case with the Dunkin Donuts stand at the Lima airport. The receipt says it all: "NUTRA -- Dunkin Donuts." I had the hope, a long time ago, that donuts were actually good for you. Now I'm certain of it!

The currency on the receipt is Peruvian Nueva Soles, which are about 3 to 1 against the dollar. Therefore, our 10 donuts and 2 cups of coffee cost a little under $4. That's not too bad when you're hankering for a taste of home.

The Cross of God

There is a large lighted cross that sits atop a big hill in the Lima suburb of Chorillos. You can see it at night from the highway that runs along the Pacific coast. It's so bright that it hurts my eyes. The other night while driving along, Willy said, "Look! It's the cross of God!"

Today, Abi said that the God in the sky loves us and that's why we don't need to be afraid. She went on to say, "He died on the cross of God, but he got up by himself."

I said, "That's right, he did get up all by himself."

She said, "Yea, ... and he looks better now."

Gotta Dance

So we were preparing to close the meeting, a little bring-a-friend tea at my apartment, and one of our friends from church leans over to one older lady in particular who was a guest in our meeting, and says, “Would you like to receive Jesus as your Savior?” Sarah (our missionary assistant) and I both had to cover up a wave of culture shock, as back in the States, we tend to make our altar calls a little less “outing.” Then the relief came when she said, “Yes!” Then not only her, but 3 others after her. Wow.

The whole night was a series of cultural shock moments for me. Hosting a tea in Peru was a bit of a risk, as I had only been to one so far, and it was less formal. I was mostly guessing with what to serve and how to do it. I had good help from the ladies, but there were moments when I felt like I was on another planet. How do you serve? Can people help themselves? How do you politely help people to hush? How direct can we be? How do you pray for people in a group setting when there are visitors?

I found myself thinking a lot through the night about part of the teaching I had prepared for the evening. I was talking about what it means to be truly beautiful as a woman, and I told them about Abi’s ballet class, and how all the girls there were so sweet, and their feminine beauty was showing, even as they were trying (and mostly failing) to do the little jumps and follow the teacher. One was crying because she didn’t have a plush toy to dance with. Another was sulking because she didn’t want to dance. They were less than graceful as they bumped into each other and made lines that looked more like squiggles.
Anyone watching them could see that they were only beginning and that it would be some time before they would do anything that looked like the graceful ballet they aspired to. Still, with time, the squiggles will straighten, and graceful gestures will replace the awkward ones I saw that day.

It is the same way for me. I found myself doing something I love to do—talking to women about the things that really matter in our lives in a small group setting. Yet, in this new culture, and with this new language that sometimes leaves me grasping when (as women do) someone gets emotional about what they are sharing, or speaks through tears. I feel sometimes like I am dancing ballet with steel-toed work boots. It’s awkward. I am unsure of things that come easily in the States. With time, I’ll work my way out of those work boots, but the only way to get rid of them is to wear them out. There is no other way to get to the place I want to go without taking the risk of dancing a pretty crazy- looking Swan Lake. If you want to dance in a new culture, you gotta dance. It isn’t possible to learn any other way. If I am the one who doesn’t get the plush toy, or someone knocks me in the head, or I can’t seem to do the little jumps how I want to, so be it. I am going to dance. And people are going to meet Jesus, because He wants to meet them, and because we were willing to look a little silly to risk it.

Wanna dance, too?

What Is In a Gift?

What is in a gift? I have thought about that a lot as I have carried out one of our very enjoyable jobs of purchasing birthday gifts for sponsored children on behalf of their sponsors. I agonized over the pink purse or the rust-colored one (earth tones are very big here), which scrunchies to go with them, what to get for a 14 year-old boy, and all the same thoughts one has when buying for a nephew or a birthday party for one of your kid’s friends.

I thought a lot about my mom through this process. My mom was an orphan who had the blessing to be born in the US, where we have a fairly adequate system for dealing with such delicate matters. She received her first birthday present when she was 16, from the daughter of her foster mother. I remember Mom talking about it like it was the most incredible thing at the time—I think it was a necklace. Someone thought about her, and it made a difference. She always talked about it—and it came up quite a few times—with tears in her eyes, and much love for the sweet young woman who had bought it for her.

And I have been thinking that although most of these kids are not orphans, the majority of them do not live in easy situations. If I was their mother, I would be thinking about how to get enough money to feed them, not if there was sufficient funds to take them out to a movie to celebrate with their friends or buy them something pretty that makes them feel thought about. These gifts may be the only ones they get to celebrate that they were born. How incredible, too, that it comes from someone they don’t even know, who does it in the name of Jesus. I think you can say a lot with a gift. You can say, “You matter to someone.” You can say, “Don’t give up.” You can say, “Jesus loves you, and I do, too.”

Buying gifts for these kids--it’s a good job.

Like a seed

The #1 question I get is "How are the kids doing?" The kids have handled this transition very well, in spite of the challenges. Living in a foreign culture where you struggle to speak means that you are always two steps behind the rest of the crowd. Willy's experience is an example. We put him and Abigail in a pre-school, so that they could meet friends and continue learning Spanish. Willy's class had planted seeds as a science experiment some time before he joined the class. After a couple of weeks, the other kids plants were sprouting, but Willy's was nowhere to be seen. He compared their plants to his dirt and was sad. I was sad, too. It was an image of his life in Latin America. I encouraged him, saying, "Don't worry Buddy! The other kids got a head start on you. Your plant is coming. Just wait."

When I left, my heart was breaking. I felt his pain. At times, I'm fed up with waiting. People do not want to wait for us. They understand social situations and speak quickly. So, one minute you are with a group of people in a circle and you are thinking, "I'm starting to fit in." Then, they all laugh at joke you didn't understand, then they all turn and leave at the same time. Everyone caught a social cue that it was time to do something else. You're left standing alone, wondering, "What was so funny and where am I supposed to go now?" That is tough for adults, but it’s twice as tough to watch your son go through it. Why couldn't his plant grow like everyone else’s?

Time passed. We had to travel to Southern Peru and Chile, in order to complete the kids' residency papers. When we returned to Willy's class, his eyes opened wide and he ran to the window sill. His pile of dirt had become a lush, green plant. It took time, but it happened. He was so happy. I silently prayed, "Thank you, Father, thank you!"

In Hebrew (and in Spanish) the word for wait and hope is the same. Isaiah 40:31 says, "those who hope in (wait for) the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles." By faith we are waiting and hoping for the day when God makes us truly fruitful in this foreign soil. He has called us and is faithful to do it.

(By the way, Willy is doing very well in school. Thanks to all who ask!)

Science Projects

Hannah and Colton did some science projects this year.

Colton's was on the effect of fat (in the form of butter) on Snicker Doodles. He made batches with 1/4 cup of butter, 1/2 cup and 3/4 cups. As you can see, they get flatter, darker and stickier. 1/2 cup, as the recipe called for, is the way to go.


Hannah won second place for her grade. Her study was on the effect of High Fructose Corn syrup on Hamsters (named Sydney and Vanessa). The result: Vanessa lost 30% of her body weight. Who knew Hamsters don't like corn syrup?

Iquitos 3

Final pics of our trip down the river. Please visit our Picasa on-line photos album for some great pics and captions. The pictures here are of Ceasar--a wood worker on the Amazon River, who also has served as a Pastor of a River/Jungle church. On our web album, there is a video of Ceasar making sugar cane juice. Click here: http://picasaweb.google.com/BillandLenaPics/Iquitos3JungleRiverTour

4 salvations

I feel very blessed today. I preached two services this morning. Preaching in Spanish requires a lot, since I have to write the sermon in English, translate it, have it corrected by a friend (Thanks Pablo!), then read/memorize it. Today's sermon came off well. The best part was the end, when 4 people gave their lives to the Lord. I was a bit shocked, since my altar call wasn't very emotional. So, I said, "This is for first timers only, not just for those who feel guilty when I preach." The four looked at me, their hands still in the air, and shook their heads yes!

Thank you, Jesus!

In the dead fish

On Easter Sunday, we were singing a Spanish hymn (sung to the tune of "From the fount of every blessing). Hannah turned and asked me, "Dad, why are we singing about a dead fish?"

Bill: Where do you see that?

Hannah: Up on the screen. It says, "In the dead fish, I am dead!"

The word for dead fish (i.e., the kind you would buy at the market to eat) is "pescado." The word for sin is "pecado." The way to remember it is that both dead fish and sin are stinky. So we were actually singing, "From now on, regarding the world and sin, I am dead." You've got to give it to those Spanish hymn writers. They're a chipper bunch.

Lesson gleaned from a jigsaw puzzle

I was working on a jigsaw puzzle recently, and something that I noticed was that there were several points in which I thought, "There is no way that this piece fits here." Time passes. I piddle with other pieces. The easy ones come together. I think, maybe in the factory something happened, and this piece fell into the rest. I seriously think that, as if that were the truth. At points I would play with it a bit, return to the rest. Sometimes I hit a point where I go a long time without getting a piece to fit, and I realize that my color expectations are affecting my ability to move on to the next stage. Then I look at the picture again, and think, "Wow, of course, it's changing to purple!" And then I move on. Sometimes I find myself trying to figure out where one of the kids must have taken the piece I have been searching for, but it isn' t their fault. I just hadn't put the pieces together yet.

Life is like that, isn't it? We work on this puzzle of life, and we keep going until we don't. And all of a sudden things aren't working so good. We are surprised. Shocked. In denial. It must be someone else's fault (child, boss, husband, friend who has been more distant lately....). But if we are wise, we press in until the Lord shows us that the color has changed, and it requires a new strategy-- a new way of looking at life, a new skill that we didn't have before, but can have if we are willing to change and learn. And then somehow we move on, and it comes together. And it wasn't a lost piece in the factory, not an errant child, or anything of the sort-- just a change of scheme that is part of life, and an opportunity to grow.

Our Apartment - photos

One of the difficulties of being a missionary is the loss of connection you feel with family and friends at home. Of course, that is also a two way street. That's why I've included the apartment videos below and these photos of our apartment. It's a bit of overkill on this one theme, but it gives those who are interested a snapshot (or video) of an important part of our lives here. I've included three shots here: our living room, dinning room and kitchen. If you'd like to see more, just click the link below: http://picasaweb.google.com/BillandLenaPics/OurApartmentInLima.

Apartment tour

I took this video in February 2008, just before we moved in to our apartment. The beauty of our apartment is the security. We never fear for our safety. The other is this lovely park, which the kids can play in. The third blessing is our proximity to the kids' school. We frequently walk to pick them up. In a big city like this, when I'm often away traveling, it is a blessing to not worry. We thank God for our call to Peru and for providing this apartment.

Bad Album Covers

It's important to know that I really like to laugh. I stumbled upon this link while reading the news: http://www.newsday.com/entertainment/music/ny-worstalbumcovers-pg,0,531818.photogallery

It is a photo collection of the 50 worst album covers. Not ironically, many of them are from Christian albums and all appear to be from the 70's. A word of caution: humor is subjective and can be dangerous. Therefore, if you are easily offended, then just skip this and enjoy the example I've provided above, that great album of uplifting songs: "All my friends are Dead." Otherwise, click the link above and make sure you view a few of my favorites; e.g., 9 (seen here), 27, 29, 42, 48 & 50.

Prince Caspian - Review & Thoughts

Hannah, Colton and I saw Prince Caspian on Saturday night. Thankfully, it's in English with sub-titles. It was a solid OK. It wasn't great, but I enjoyed it. If I didn't know the story, I'd probably rate it higher; but, since it is one of my favorite stories of all time, it had a lot to live up to. I rate the opening sequence a A+. The movie opens better than the book, with an exciting chase scene. After the kids get into Narnia, the movie diverts from the book and starts to fall apart. The last third gets back to the book and ends well. One aspect I hated was that Susan kisses Caspian at the end (which was unbefitting a queen). If he had kissed her hand, and looked into her eyes, it would have worked better. Also, following the kiss, there is a pop music song. Up until then, the movie had a nice symphonic score. The pop music & the kiss seemed to turn a classy movie into a TV show.

Two thoughts:

1) We watched the BBC version (from the 1980's) a month ago. In that version, when the kids retrieve their original gifts from Father Christmas, Edmund has none. He didn't get a gift because he was a rebellious traitor and wasn't with the rest when Father Christmas arrived. When Willy saw this, he was very upset and asked if Edmund would get a gift now--after he says that he's sorry. We explained that he would not; i.e., being forgiven does not erase the past and there are lasting consequences to rebellion. This effected Willy greatly. It's worth remembering for all of us.

2) In the book, when Reepicheep's companions pledge to cut off their tails, Aslan says, "You have conquered me!" I love the idea that noble companions can greatly touch the heart of God--like the four friends who dug through the roof. The new movie contains this scene, but not the emotional confession from Aslan. (By the way, in the new movie, Reepicheep is a mouse to be feared! He's not quite as pompous as in the book, but is nonetheless one of the great literary characters of all time.)

Missionary Adjustment

An old friend wrote me today and asked how our transition was going. I wanted to share some of what I wrote him:

Our lives here are going well. We like Lima. We miss our friends in Cincinnati and in Costa Rica, but if you have to live in a foreign city, Lima, Peru is a great place to live. We especially appreciate the orderly structure and amenities of this big city. Nonetheless, it’s not home and there are many aspects that are less than comfortable or simply hard to understand. It’s funny that some people make this move solely for the adventure or for financial gain. It seems costly to do that without the greater purpose of the kingdom. I once heard that ex-pats consider their original country to be home up until the 2nd year away. At that point, they don’t feel that either country is home. They simply don’t fit anywhere. After the 4th year, their new country is home. We’ve been gone from the states for 1 ½ years and we are definitely feeling the sense of a loss of identity. We’re not Cincinnati people and not XA people. We’re like Abraham, marching into a new land, a land of promise, based on faith and the call of God.

(This cross sits atop San Cristobal--a tall hill overlooking Lima.)

Arequipa

We are in Arequipa, Peru, on our way south to Arica, Chile. We're on this journey to complete the process of getting the children's residency visas. It's a blessing, because it has allowed us to visit friends who live in Arequipa--which is in the southern portion of Peru, high in the Andes mountains. Arequipa is famous for 4 things: 1) The snow capped mountains--including the famous volcano "El Misti." 2) The Cathedral and the city's staunch devotion to the Pope. It is often referred to as the Vatican of South America. 3) The white volcanic rock used to construct many of the buildings, giving the city the name "the white city." 4) Their independent spirit, giving them the titles of "The independent State of Arequipa" or "The Texas of Peru."

Meriachi Birthday

For Lena's birthday, a Peruvian pastor who works with Latin America Childcare, surprised Lena with a Mariachi band. You can see in the video, Pastora Vicky, two teachers, two LACC students, our apartment, Lena, Willy and Abi. The song the band is singing is "Felicidades!" which is "congratulations!"

41 years of Lena

Lena turns 41 today. I want to say, that I have loved our 16 1/2 years of marriage together. That makes her birthday a real cause of celebration. Lena is my best friend. She can be both extremely funny and highly spiritual in the same moment. We don't mind long trips, because we're often looking for excuses to spend more time together. We laugh, we pray, we love and we work for the same cause--the Gospel of Jesus Christ. She's my partner and an excellent mother. That's why I'm celebrating the day she was born!

(This picture of us was taken outside of Ayacucho. We're standing on the site of the last battle fought for South American independence from Spain.)

Where's the bath-robe?

I recently wrote a friend the following: The move to Peru has been a tearing down of identities. I was once a man with a large vocabulary. Now, I am a man who says, “Where is the bath-robe?”

They say, “What?”

And I say, “You know, the habitation of the urn!”

-----

In Spanish, one of the words for toilet is inodoro. If you look closely, you can see what it is saying; i.e. without odor. This is clearly a symbol of a Don Quixote type of hopefulness, in spite of reality, which is found throughout Latin culture.

-----

The picture is of Lena, Hannah, Colton and I. It was taken in a hotel parking lot in San Diego, following a missions trip to Mexico back in 2000.

Piller of Smoke & Fire

For my devotions, I do a combination of Bible reading, journaling, singing and prayer (in English, Spanish and Tongues). The anchor is the Bible reading portion. The other activities are inserted into the Bible time. I aim to read 3 chapters per day in English and selected passages in Spanish. I just finished reading Exodus. The book ends with the completion of the "Tent of Meeting" (also referred to as the Tabernacle). This was a big tent with the Ark of the covenant at one end and a larger area for animal sacrifices. The tent was the place where God's presence was manifested and was both physically and figuratively at the center of the community (i.e., all the tribes set their tents around this central tent). The final verses of Exodus read as follows:

Ex 40:34-8--Then the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting because the cloud had settled upon it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. In all the travels of the Israelites, whenever the cloud lifted from above the tabernacle, they would set out; but if the cloud did not lift, they did not set out—until the day it lifted. So the cloud of the LORD was over the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel during all their travels.

I want that. I want God's presence to settle upon me in a visible fashion. I want to be lead by God's Spirit in a strong way. If He goes, I go. If He sits tight, then I sit tight. I want Him in sight in all my travels.

Please pray for me, for this to be a reality.

77 Chigger bites

During our visit to the jungle last week, I received at least 77 chigger bites. (Yes, I counted them.) Each bite, leaves a nasty, itchy bump. They don't suck your blood; rather, they inject a fluid that liquefies your skin so they can drink it! They like areas which are dark and sweaty, like the elastic area of my sock (as you can see). Other areas include your arm pits, waste band and... Well, let's just say that I won't be scratching #76 in public.

He kissed me--Croc guy - Part 2

The guy with the Croc obsession is back. This is the guy who, when he sees my crocs, yells, "What beautiful shoes!" and then tries to slip his foot into them while I'm wearing them. I ran into him in the business district of town. I was waiting to cross the street and he was standing next to me. The intersection is huge, with five streets intersecting and hundreds of cars and busses. When I saw him, I immediately looked down to see what shoes I was wearing. They were tennis shoes that he couldn't slip into. He was wearing slip on loafers that he'd cut off in the back, to make them like clogs (or Crocs). I'd been thinking about him since our last encounter. He walks miles upon miles, aimlessly, every day. He is a small, thin man with prematurely gray hair and the voice of a child. He is mentally challenged, innocent and possibly gay. I tried to think of what Jesus would do with a mentally challenged guy who kept trying to put on His sandals and I concluded that Jesus would not be afraid of him or treat him with indifference. So, I greeted him. His name is Renato and our conversation went like this:

I said, “Hi.”

He said, “Ohhhhhh, what beautiful glasses!”

“What's your name?”

“Renato.”

“My name is Bill. It's nice to meet you.”

It was clear that he had no idea who I was, or that he'd tried to climb into my shoes twice before. I extended my hand to shake his hand. He grabbed my hand and shook it eagerly, saying, “Thank you! Thank you! It’s nice to meet you too.” Then he kissed my hand and, before I knew what was happening, he kissed my cheek. I spoke to him firmly, as though I were speaking to a child and said, “No kisses, Renato!”

I tried to ask him where he lived, because I've seen him all over town. But, at my level of Spanish, I make a lot of mistakes. So, rather than ask “where” he lived, I asked “how.” I laughed inwardly, because I really was asking within, "How do you survive?"

He answered, “With my Mother and brothers.”

I asked, “So, do you just walk on the street all day long, every day?”

“Yes.”

Then he looked at me and said, “You’re face is so beautiful…you look like Jesus!”

The street light changed and we began to cross the street. I said, “Thanks. Jesus and I have a really close relationship and I like looking like him on the outside, but I’m more interested in looking like Jesus in my soul.”

He stared at me, like a person trying to see through a window and said, “The Spirit of God is all over you!”

I said, “Yes, Renato, I’m filled with the Holy Spirit. Do you have a relationship with Jesus?”

He replied, “Oh yes! I take Jesus in every day” and made the motions of a person taking communion. He was wearing a blue, plastic rosary like a necklace.

He said, “Where are you from?”

I replied, “The United States.”

He said, “The Papá (the pope) is there!”

“Yes,” I said, “he was, though I think he’s back in Italy now.”

At this point, we were standing in the middle of the cross walk, where he had stopped. We were in that space on the street between two opposing directions. It was clear that Renato had to go in another direction. I said, “I want to pray for you. May I?”

He said, “Oh yes!”

I had no idea what to pray for. I wondered, “Is he just mentally challenged or are demonic forces at work in his life?” I decided it was too soon, too public, and too in-the-middle-of-the-street to cast demons out of him. So, I prayed for God’s blessing in his life and for total healing of his body, mind and soul in the name of Jesus.

He was extremely grateful. He shook my hand and kissed it two or three times. He tried to kiss my cheek, but I held him back and said, “No kisses, Renato! No kisses!”

Then he asked, “Can I kiss your feet?”

I held him back and said, “No kisses!”

After that, he stepped into a river of people flowing down the side walk and I don’t know where he went. I do know that God loves him and (mentally challenged or not) God has a plan for his life. When I see him again, I will try to continue the conversation.

Amazon River & Jungle Part 2

April 14 & 15 found Lena and I in Iquitos, Peru. Iquitos is the largest city in the Peruvian part of the Amazon Jungle. We visited two Latin America ChildCare schools there. I wrote about the first (Luz Del Saber) in a previous blog entry (below). The second school (Victoria de Jesus) is the larger of the two and is partially submerged 3 months out of the year. Lena and I enjoyed a canoe tour of the first floor classrooms, given by Pastor Jose. I've put together a collection of some of our photos, which you can see by clicking: http://picasaweb.google.com/BillandLenaPics

Please keep the pastors and teachers of these schools in prayer. The city is rife with prostitution, drugs and unemployment. It is a area in great need of the gospel. It is also a place in which it is a huge blessing to be a missionary. Thanks to all who have kept us in prayer!

Feeling un-invited & longing for heaven

Chris Chowdhury is a friend of mine and has written an incredibly insightful entry in his blog (http://chrischowdhury.com/). Regarding a seminary counselling course, Chris wrote the following:

One concept we consistently arrived at in the course was the unshakable lie. This a lie we hear at some point in our life and then spend the rest of our life believing about ourselves unless we find truth in Christ. Everyone has a lie…
“You are ugly.”
“You are a failure.”
“It is all your fault.”
“You are stuck.”
“God will not forgive you.”
“You cannot change.”
“No one really wants to hear what you think.”

The class helped me identify (more like re-identify) the lie I keep falling for… “You are not invited.” Yeah, no matter what someone tells me or what I see in the Word of God, my default outlook is that I am not ever going to be invited to the table. What does this mean? To be invited is to be valued and to be valued is to have purpose - purpose from God. The lie someone once told me and I’ve apparently failed to relinquish says I am of no value to anyone else and they would be better off if I didn’t show up to dinner. It says I am worthless. But it’s a lie.

Follow the link above to see how Chris uses the word of God to combat this lie. I found his writing insightful, because I've had the same feelings before--especially in our shift from Chi Alpha to World Missions. In XA, I was a District Rep. I had a title and people knew my name. I could also speak the language. Here, people can't even pronounce my name and I struggle to speak. Speaking a huge part of preaching and a part of a pastor's identity. When you don't speak well, people are hesitant to invite you to preach. So, I often share the feeling of not being wanted at the table.

I think that part of this feeling in all of us is the enemy trying to make God’s kids feel like outsiders. But, I think also that another part is a God given longing for home. We are meant to be with the Lord. Mankind was created to be walking in the garden with God in a personal way. I think our feeling of “un-invitedness” is part of our souls hankering for home. When you don't feel invited to the party, and you're stuck watching the other kids have fun, you long for a friend to show up. That's why, in the last two sentences of the Bible, the Apostle John writes for all of us when he says, "Come Lord Jesus."

School on the Amazon: La Luz del Saber

April 14-15, 2008 found us in Iquitos, Peru. Iquitos is a large city on the Amazon River. The only way to get there is via plane or boat. Latin America Childcare sponsors students in two schools in Iquitos. These pictures are of the "Luz del Saber" school, which is situated next to an open sewer. As you can see, there is extreme poverty. This is a community in which the presence of the gospel makes a huge difference.

Click on the title, above, to see the slide show in a larger format. You can go from there to our main gallery of photos.

Ciabatta Bread actually is better - Part 2

Below (in the entry entitled "Ciabatta Bread actually is better") you can read about my conversation with a guy who said that all religions are the same and that all missionaries are just salesmen trying to convince you that their product is better. The joke below displays effectively the notion that sometimes the guys who's trying to sell you something is telling the truth:

Reverend Ole was the pastor of the local Norwegian Lutheran Church, and Pastor Sven was the minister of the Swedish Covenant Church across the road.

I saw them yesterday standing by the road, pounding a sign into the ground, that reads:'Da End iss Near! Turn Yourself Aroundt Now! Before It's Too Late!'

As a car sped past them, the driver leaned out his window and yelled, 'Leave us alone, you religious nuts!'

From the curve we heard screeching tires and a big splash...

Rev. Ole turns to Pastor Sven and asks, 'Do ya tink maybe da sign should yust say 'Bridge Out'?

A Grand Opening

Last week, Lena and I participated in the grand opening of a new A/G school in Peru. The pastor has applied for Latin America ChildCare help, but we're not yet able to do so, given the projects that have already been approved. Nonetheless, we've really enjoyed becoming friends with the Pastor and preaching at the church. Pastor Dionisia is a single woman, who has been pastoring this church for over 20 years. She is in the largest community of poor people in all of South America. It is San Juan de Lurigancho and has a population of more that 1 million. Many of them do not have water. When I first saw the community, it reminded me of pictures of Israel. As such, I was shocked to see that the church is named Palestina (Palestine) Assembly. Palestine is a great name, since it signifies a people in struggle who desperately need peace and salvation from Messiah.

Birthday of a different sort

On April 8, 1980, I received the Baptism of the Holy Spirit. I remember it well. I was in a dorm room at the University of Cincinnati. It was a life changing experience that so impacted me, I have made it an emphasis of ministry ever since. I thank God for 28 years of the empowering presence of the Spirit of God.

Ciabatta Bread actually is better

There is a park near our house that I really love. It's called the "Malecon," which is a type of boardwalk. In this case, the boards are a nicely poured concrete sidewalk. I go there sometimes to roller-blade with Colton or to pray. It’s a really great spot for sunsets. One morning, I was there doing my devotions (prayer, Bible reading and journaling). I started talking to an older man who said that there was no difference between Christians, Muslims and Jews. He went on to say that missionaries are like bread salesmen who are hawking the same product. He said, "There are three different bread salesmen on the street and they each have the same bread, but each of them is saying that his bread is better." He went on to say, "All of the bread is the same!" He was, of course, talking about different religions.

I said that I could see his point, but that I had one question for him: “What if one bread really is better than the others?” I went on to say that, sometimes, one bread really is better. In that instance, the salesman isn’t trying to convince you of something that isn’t true. Rather, he’s just a guy who is stating a fact that may be in your best interest.

When I asked that, he suddenly had no interest in sharing his philosophy of missions with me. He immediately excused himself and walked away quickly.

I would like to state for the record that Islam, Judaism and Christianity are not the same piece

bread. To have a personal relationship with Jesus, the Jewish Messiah, and to be filled with the power of His Holy Spirit, it way better than all the other breads combined!
One last tidbit: In Peru, we eat a lot of Ciabatta bread. It is an Italian bread that is sometimes called “slipper bread,” because of its shape. It is really delicious. Ciabatta bread is better. If you see three guys selling bread, buy from the one who is selling Jesus as Messiah...or, the one selling Ciabatta bread.

Reflecting on Experience

We've been working hard and loving the challenge here in Peru. So, in lieu of a fuller blog entry, I leave my blog-reading buddies with two things I love: a picture of my kids (in a park near our house) and an unrelated quote:

"We really don't learn anything from our experience. We only learn from reflecting on our experience."

Robert Sinclair

Potato bread & the cost of living

During our time in Costa Rica, I was shocked at how high our food budget was. I thought Costa Rica was just expensive. When we went back to the states during the holidays, I realized that it wasn't just Costa Rica--it was everywhere. Our move to Peru has not lessened the sticker shock at the grocery store. If anything, it is worse. A recent CNN news article on the world-wide rise in food costs reported, "Partly because of the cost of imported wheat, Peru's military has begun eating bread made from potato flour, a native crop."

That's a bummer because it is motivated by high costs, but the good news for me is that I love potato bread. But, I'd love it even more if it were cheaper. The CNN article quoted Brian Halweil of the environmental research organization Worldwatch Institute, saying, "All countries are tied enough to the world food markets that this is a global crisis."

The increase in food costs is doubled when you consider the declining value of the American Dollar. The attached chart shows the decline of the dollar against the Peruvian Sol, over the past 6 months. All the missionaries that I know are concerned about their loss of purchasing power. But, it's also one of those problems that is a blessing. While I'd prefer to have cheaper access to goods and services, I'm not so enamored with it that I want to leave. To be called as a missionary is such a blessing and honor, it is worth eating beans and rice, instead of meat. If it's for the King, then it's worth it. The good news is that we have a heavenly reward coming, which has already been paid for! Amen.

San Cristobal and our 2nd tour of Lima

Last week, we joined a local Assembly of God youth group on a tour of Lima. We visited San Cristobal, the Parque de Armas and a park of fountains. Hannah has put together a slide show, which you can see at right. Or, click here to see this new show and all our photo albums: http://picasaweb.google.com/BillandLenaPics/SanCristobalTour

Unexpected Comforts and the Power of a Lawnmower

From Lena...in Lima:

One of the surprises I have encountered here is exactly which things bring me comfort in the sense of familiar things. I missed my garlic press, and I was too cheap to replace it for a year in Costa Rica. Love my bedspread from home. The familiarity of the quilts I have made through the house. But the most powerful instant comfort I have experienced here has been the hum of a lawnmower.

We were getting settled in, and as you have probably read here before, we live over a private park, when I noticed something, and without even realizing what was happening, my soul did a little, “ahhhh……………” I stopped, because it was a curious feeling of familiarity. After a second of attentive quiet, I realized that alongside of the sound of jackhammers and construction (they are building high rise apartments on either side of our building), there was the hum of a lawnmower. Summer in Ohio. Sending the kids out back to play. Watching them leave through the back fence to the cul de sac with their friends. Kids screaming as they run through the neighborhood with water guns. Much farther back, I see my dad in the front yard, yelling at us to gather up the sticks in front of him as he mows. We roll around in the grass and throw big handfuls up in the air. It feels like deep-pile carpet and looks freshly vacuumed from the rows he makes with the mower.

What a silly thing to carry so much power for me—so many good memories that help me feel at home here. I am thankful for each moment like this, and the unexpected comforts of Lima.

Wash your hands!

Last Sunday night two people got saved. (Praise the Lord!) I preached a message and then asked for those who want to give their lives to the Lord to signify it, "All you have to do," I said, "is lift your hands!" But I didn't say "lift," I said, "Wash!"

They stared at me, so I repeated myself, "If you want to live with the Lord forever and received forgiveness of your sins, then WASH YOU HANDS and let me see it!"

O well, they eventually figured it out.

What a Croc!

I wear crocs--those ugly, plastic clogs. A few weeks ago, while standing in line at a hardware store, I ran into a man who is mentally challenged. He didn't appear challenged at first, so I was suprised when he walked up to me and said, "Que bonito zapatos!," which means, "What pretty shoes!" He immediately tried to put my crocks on while I was still wearing them. I kept stepping back, while he tried to stick his foot into the small space at the top of the shoe. It was unnerving. I saw him again today. He didn't remember me, but as soon as he saw my crocs, he did it again. I had to hold him off and say "No!" very forcefully.

There's only one man who can wear my shoes...at least while I'm in them.

Contentment and Maturity

When you move to a foreign country, there are a lot of problems to solve. Foremost are your unmet desires and expectations. We tend to get used to the idea that if I can just have my coffee at 6:00 am, I can be happy. In regard to this exact example, I'm a thinly veiled version of Dustin Hoffman in the movie "Rainman." In one scene, he frantically chants, "Five minutes to Wapner! Five minutes to Wapner!" He was addicted to "the Peoples' Court" and had to watch it everyday; otherwise, his world fell apart and he threw a major hissy-fit. Well, there's no Judge Wapner in Peru. There also isn't peanut butter (!), Frosted Mini Wheats, "The Amazing Race," or the major network news programs (e.g., ABC or NBC) from the states. As for T.V. news, we have CNN, which I watch but don't enjoy. (Is it me, or does Wolf Blitzer keep saying the same things over and over?) As a news junkie, I've been forced to develop a contentment strategy. As such, I read the news on the web and in our local (Spanish) newspaper. I'm learning to enjoy CNN in Spanish; which, thankfully, doesn't spend all day tallying how many delegates Hillary needs to catch up with Obama. Of course, missionaries 10 years ago didn't even have CNN, so I'm "content" with what I've got. Content is a key word, because it's a major part of maturity. One aspect of maturity is the ability to be content when you can't get what you want.

Paul, writing one of his supporting churches, said this about the missionary life in Philippians 4:10-13: "I rejoice greatly in the Lord that at last you have renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you have been concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength."

Paul also wrote to his disciple, in 1 Timothy 6:6-8: "But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that."

Today, I can say in all honesty and without any struggle that I am more than content. I'm bordering on a full fledged happy. Of course, we're still eating the peanut butter we brought from the states. I believe that before we run out completely, I'll have matured sufficiently to endure it with contentment and aplumb.

You are here

Lima is a big city. As such, it has some dangerous parts. We are happy to say that we don't live in one of them. We were blessed to find (actually, "be directed to") a beautiful apartment attached to a private park, where the kids can play without fear. We're also about 4 blocks from a park that overlooks the ocean. Colton and I have roller-bladed to this park many times in order watch the sunset. We feel truly blessed.

Unfortunately, I can't figure out a way to show you where we live. In the real world, there are no "you are here" arrows, like on the map at the mall. So, I'll describe it verbally: Go to the center of the map and go strait up. When you reach the diamond shaped park, we live at the top of the diamond. The white stuff on the bottom left corner are waves in the ocean. The green strip above the waves are mountain cliffs. The yellow line is a side-walk we roller-blade on. The blue dot on the left is a sports stadium.