news fall 2008

Just some thoughts...

As I sit here, I wonder, do I have any thoughts? And if I do, are they worth mentioning? After all, who wants to hear the ramblings of an almost middle-aged man who has a midsection that, despite his best efforts, continues to look every day more like the side view of a donut? Then I realize, I guess you do, that’s why you’re reading this, that or you’re really bored. Anyhow, for the first time in my life I find myself in a somewhat content place, not conformed, just content. I can’t ever remember not seeing what was coming and anxiously wishing it had already arrived. Maybe for the first time in my life I may actually enjoy the moment. How would that be for a change instead of always looking back and wondering what happened? I don’t know about you, but it seems like I have always lived looking to the future, to the hope of better and especially bigger things. Yet I find myself today pastoring a chrurch of about 20 people with no ministry trips scheduled for another six weeks and somehow I am happy, content. Maybe I’m just old, maybe it’s maturity, probably it’s that I’m just old. Either way, it’s nice to be here. Too bad it took 39 years that I don’t remember.

Little Boy, Big Heart

While preparing dinner one Wednesday night, I heard the troops ascending the stairs. Tianna, distraught, said, “Mom, there’s a man who was beat up badly, bleeding, and can’t get up laying across the street in the praça (park).” Between her and Jordan, I gathered that he was a man who lives on the streets, was beat up by others who live on the streets. His only belongings were scattered on the praça where the men who beat him up threw them, and he needed medical attention. He didn’t even have strength enough to sit up. My heart going out to this man, I began to pray out loud for Jesus to help him. Turning off the noodles that were cooking in the pan, I went downstairs to assess the situation. Seeing an older gentleman lain out on the grass across the street, I called Jeff who happened to be praying with some guys in the church, and explained to him the situation. He and the guys from church immediately went over to pray for him and to help in anyway that was needed. Meanwhile, the kids not to be left out, also returned to the praça to get in on the action and “help.” Jordan, introducing the bleeding gentleman to Jeff, said, “Here is my Dad, the one I was telling you about.” While Jeff sat on the grass next to him praying and talking with him, Sergio called for an ambulance.

Jordan, sitting right next to him on the other side, was also conversing with him and letting him know that he was going to ask his mom if he could stay with us. When someone had the idea that he might need some water, Jordan grasped Lucas’ hand to cross the street with him to get a cup of water. Returning with two cups of water, he tried to get the gentleman to take a drink, and let him know that the other cup was right next to him if he should need more.

After what seemed like forever, the ambulance finally arrived, with Jordan directing them where to park. When the two guys hopped out of the ambulance, Jordan took them to the homeless man laid out and asked, “What do you need me to do?” The two guys, smiling, seeing the sincerity of a young boy who really wanted to help, didn’t ignore Jordan, but allowed him to be right next to them as they placed a board underneath the homeless man, and lifted him onto the stretcher. Jordan didn’t leave the man’s side, but with his hand on the stretcher, stayed right next to him until the ambulance took him away.

The kids and I proceeded upstairs to continue with our evening, which included more prayer for the gentleman and a dinner with over cooked noodles. I don’t think anyone complained as our thoughts and hearts were with the man who had impacted our lives that particular night.

As I tucked Jordan into bed, he couldn’t sleep because he was worried about the man who was beat up so badly. I explained to Jordan that God was with him as we had prayed and so had many others that evening. Jordan still not convinced, expressed that he wasn’t sure that God would hear or answer his prayers, (oh, that we might have the honesty of children). This led to a discussion of him being one of God’s children and salvation. To which Jordan replied, “I don’t know if God can forgive me for all my past sins.” I wasn’t sure how many past sins an eight year old could have, but he sure was sincere. At last Jordan went to sleep, with his tender heart that we all know is in there beneath his warrior exterior.

The Bible

It’s strange when people ask what you’re doing these days and you respond with, “I’m working on the Bible.” Yeah, you get some pretty weird looks and some even better comments. It’s like, “Oh. (big pause) You’re writing the Bible? You can do that?” Then when you try to explain that no, you’re not trying to “write” it, you’re just ttranslating it into a more modern language so that the common people of today can read and understand it as well as the scholars. “Oh, you’re just changing it.” No, not that either. Nevermind. And then somehow you get known as the guy who’s rewriting the Bible. God help us. As a result, I’ve recently quit telling most people what I’m doing in the “bat cave”. It’s a secret. Of course you know now, but don’t worry, I won’t have to kill you. It’s kind of like homeschooling here, you’re better off not saying anything in order to avoid the looks of confusion accompanied by, “You can do that?” Uhhh, no, we just said that because it seemed like a funny thing to say. Hello??? Of course it is far better than the accusing looks with comments of, “You’re doing a real disservice to your kids. Do you really think that you can give them as good of an education that they would get in the schools?” Well, yes I do if you must know. And that is not arrogance, just fact. Brazil ranked 123 out of 131 developed nations for quality of education. So yes, I think we might be able to pull that off. Anyhow, back to the secret. Please pray that God would guide us so that we don’t end up “rewriting” the Bible. Pray also that we don’t tire and give up as I think I’m starting to understand why the last version to come out in Portuguese was 35 years ago.

No Boys!

Based on the fact that our house is slowly turning into what appears to be a Girl Scout Jamboree minus the cookies, Lisa has decided to do a weekly meeting them. There seems to be a lot of excitement surrounding this “girls only” night of crafts and chatting, which I am sure, will not be in short supply. The obvious object of this is to tell them about Jesus, as Taylor and Tianna are the only ones who are Christians. I personally think that it will take all of about a month before they are having a better attendance than our Sunday morning service. If that’s the case, I’ll have to try and incorporate crafts into Sunday. Maybe the members can make Popsicle stick crosses or something during the message. So, please remember to throw up a prayer for them every Thursday night and for Jordan and I as we watch Braveheart for the 20th time.

News from Paraguay???

Right. Where the heck are we anyways? Lisa and Taylor recently went on a mission’s trip to Paraguay. I guess that’s what you have to do when you want to expose missionary kids to missions. Brazil to our kids is home, not missions, but the desire in them to be missionaries is huge, thus, when the opportunity came along, Lisa and Taylor packed their bags and headed out for eight days.

Taylor from Brazil, I mean Paraguay

My mom and I recently went on a mission’s trip to Paraguay. It is for sure a trip I will, never forget. Only 2% of the people in Paraguay are Christians. As you can see, they really need missionaries.

Paraguayans are super nice people. If you visit anyone there anytime of the day, they’ll stop their work, talk to you, and give you tereré. Tereré is a very famous drink in Paraguay. It is a cup full of water and herbs that you drink through a metal straw. I honestly think it’s horrible, but my mom liked it. Tereré is the way Paraguayans say “welcome!”

Probably what impacted me the most on this trip was when we went to evangelize at the mercadão. The mercadão is a large area where people sell their goods under a low tin roof. There I went up to a small hut with a translator where a lady was selling vegetables. I asked her if I could talk to her and she stopped her work. As I started to tell her about how Jesus saved us from our sins, three other customers gathered around to hear this message also. They seemed to be very interested and asked a lot of questions. Once I had finished telling them the whole story about Jesus, I prayed for them. Hopefully they will live for Jesus now.

Paraguayans are so desperate for something to put their hope in. It is a very poor country and the people there need some kind of hope. Jesus is the only hope for Paraguay. That is why it is our responsibility as Christians to tell them to put their hope in Jesus.

“I love my house. I love my nest. In all the world my nest is best.”

While cleaning my house yesterday, I found myself humming that song from a children’s book that I used to read to the kids. If any of you are familiar with The Best Nest, by P.D. Eastman, you will remember that the momma bird sang that song happily after she returned to her home after being away from it for a while. Thus I find myself in a similar situation after arriving home from eight days on the road, five of which were spent in Paraguay. Taylor and I had the privilege of going on a mission’s trip to Paraguay to share Jesus, pray, and visit orphanages. Like Jeff said, “Our kids need to leave Brazil to do missions as Brazil is their home country.”

On our last day in Paraguay, we visited three different orphanages. The second orphanage that we visited housed young boys who were rescued from living on the streets. While all three will forever be etched in my heart, the third one was especially dear as it housed children with AIDS. Although Taylor and I couldn’t speak their language, I believe the language of love was understood as we embraced, hugged, and played with the beautiful kids there. Their faces I will never forget.

The joy of this mother’s heart was to watch our oldest, Taylor, participate in everything with a smile on her face. As I watched her bow her head and pray for Paraguay, hold little orphans in her arms, tell anyone who would listen about Jesus, and eat strange food with out complaining, I thought, “This daughter of ours was born to be a missionary.” That thought was confirmed when at the end of our trip I asked her if she was ready to go home. She replied, “No. I wish we could live traveling, doing this everyday.” As for me, this momma bird continues to hum her song as she delights in being back home.