2004 Soup Kitchen

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so a video must be worth about a million.
Click on the link below and see a video of the soup kitchen ministry that we had in 2004.

2oo4 Soup Kitchen

You will need:
Something better than a "dial-up" connection.
Windows media player

Christ Alone

I've been thinking about what it means to seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness.(Matt. 6:33) What does it mean for Jesus to be truly first in our lives; what does this look like?

Oswald Chambers wrote it this way in describing Paul, "he never again allowed anything to attract and hold the attention of his mind and soul except the face of Jesus Christ." Do we love Jesus like this? Does He dominate our affections to the exclusion of every other passion in our
lives?

The parable of the sower compares the types of soil with the condition of our hearts. One soil filled with thorns was described by Jesus as the heart of people who hear the word but then the "worries and riches and pleasures of this life" cause it to not bear fruit to maturity. Doesn't that sound like a heart that has not yet decided on Jesus' supremacy? Seeking first His kingdom, not letting other cares crowd our hearts --this is what true discipleship is made of.

Is there anything in your life right now that God is asking you to walk away from that causes you more pain than it should? When you contemplate putting Jesus first is there something that always makes you shrink back from such an abandonment of surrender? Pray about that thing. Take it to the Lord until there is nothing you have as your treasure except Jesus alone.

It is not enough that we know these truths, but for them to be life and freedom to us we must put them into practice. I examine my own heart and I pray "Lord, remove the thorns and change my heart into a "good soil" heart. Will you pray this prayer with me? Will you pray His
kingdom come, His will be done in my life as it is in heaven?

The Great Escape

This story took place back in December 2004, but I wanted to get it in writing so I wouldn't forget.

It was still raining as it had been most the night when I put the neighbor's plastic table cloth around my shoulders and began the walk toward town. The mud slipped beneath my feet and oozed between my toes and I soon found there was more sure footing in the small rivulets that flowed down the middle of the road, than on the high ground.

I was on my way to a meeting in Guatemala, but first I had to get out of our village so I could be driven to the airport. The normally small stream that separates Ita Angu'a from Yuty had overflowed and flooded the only road leading to town. My friend Dan Reich was to meet me on the other side of the flooded area and then drive me the rest of the way into town and then on to Asuncion.

As I stumbled along, one of our neighbor's boys came riding up on a horse and relieved me of my suitcase and walked with me to the flooded area. As we came over a rise, there was Dan with some Paraguayan friends of ours walking up the hill toward me. Our friends continued on their way to their homes in the villages I had left behind, and Dan and I turned around and headed back to his car.

The Paraguayans had shown Dan that the best way to get through the flooded area was to walk perpendicularly to the road out into the marsh land where the water became much more shallow and then walk parallel with the road until the flooded area had been passed.

The only way to walk in the marsh was by stepping on top of the clumps of grass that were just above water level. Between the clumps of grass flowed two and a half feet of slow draining muddy water. More than once we lost our footing and slipped thigh deep in to the black goo.

Finally totally soaked and covered in mud, we made it back to Dan's car. After a quick shower and change of clothes at Dan's house, we were on our way to Asuncion.

The following day I was on a jet eating preprepared meals wrapped in cellophane and little wedges of cheese wrapped in foil from somewhere in Europe. And for the next three days I would be sitting in a classroom watching powerpoint presentations and listening to mission leaders from Latin America share their vision for the future of missions. After this
brief visit it was back to Ita Angu'a and the mud.

Often the life of a missionary is full of seeming dichotomies, where we find ourselves in simple conditions one moment and then in more modern ones the next. I say "seeming dichotomy" because there really is no dichotomy in a Christian's life. Everything we do has the same purpose no matter where or what the circumstances: It is to glorify Him.

What's important?

My supervisor is one of the greatest managers of people I know. He has the ability to handle people with such diverse personalities and varying levels of maturity in a fair and straight forward manner. He has the ability to see what issues are important to address and which issues are better left alone. I value his opinion greatly, and so one day we were talking about some of the different men that work under him. I wanted to know what he thought about the men on our crew who called themselves "Christians"

There are some guys at work that go to church on a regular basis, yet their language is pretty heavily seasoned with "four letter words" and other obscenities. I ask my self, "How can they call themselves Christians and be talking like that?" I think about what a poor testimony they are having in front of people like my supervisor. Yet as I talk with my supervisor, he is not bothered in the least by the vocabulary of these men. In his mind there is no great dichotomy in a man who calls himself a Christian and uses the "four letter word" on a regular basis, rather he is offended by the poor work ethic of men who say they follow Christ. It has made me think much more about what is important to those around me , those I would like to reach with the message of salvation through Jesus Christ.

Yes, I may watch my tongue, but am I a "company man", and a "team player". Am I some one who shows up on time for work and actually takes only 30 minutes for lunch. Do I work as hard as I can, in the most efficient way, and do it for Christ, that His name might be glorified through me? I want to better see myself the way the world sees me and then let Christ change me in ways that will most effectively impact the lives of the men with whom I work.

Board Room to Red Boots

Last Sunday I flew "red eye" to Charlotte, NC to serve for the last time on the SIM Board of Directors. I had been invited to serve as a missionary on home assigment for the past year. Wenedsday morning at 1:00 I was back in Bakersfield. By 4:30 am I was in my truck on my way to work, where I spray weeds with a solution of various chemicals and a red marker dye. It's impossible to work without dying your boots a pinkish red.

This Friday I will join James, our youngest son, and my dad on a trip to th "La Purisma" mission along the California Camino Real. Then Saturday, I will go snake hunting with my son Denny and some snake collectors looking for Rosey Boas and a certain species of California King Snake.

Besides these exciting events I will be continuing on the more mundane task of reformating some Guarani Bible Study materials, practicing Guarani, and spraying weeds.

Kelly has finished her chemo!!

About a month ago Kelly had her last chemo treatment
and last month her bone scans, mamigrams and blood work
showed no cancer. She is now taking a drug to control
the way the cancer responds to her hormones.

More of Kelly's Thoughts

As I walk through this cancer and the multiple
chemo treatments, God has given me great peace
in surrender to His will. I rest in His capable
hands and I marvel at how something I dreaded so
much has been virtually easy. The understanding
is that each treatment will bring on harder and
more difficult side effects. Yet, this has not
been the case with me.

Psalm 138:1-3

"I will give Thee thanks with all my heart; I
will sing praises to Thee before the gods. I
will bow down toward Thy holy temple, and give
thanks to Thy name for Thy lovingkindness and
Thy truth; For Thou hast magnified Thy word
according to all Thy name. On the day I called
Thou didst answer me; Thou didst make me bold
with strength in my soul."

Thank you all for your prayers.

Kelly

Kelly's Thoughts

For a time, I'm going to use this space to let
Kelly personally share with you what the Lord is
showing her though this time of dealing with
cancer.

As I face this new challenge of cancer and the
ongoing treatments of Chemotherapy I have one
desire: that I might respond to all of it in a
way that is pleasing to God and brings glory to
His name.

My last few months in Paraguay God led me to
pray a prayer of surrender. I prayed and told
Him--"You choose everything, Lord, who I will or
won't work with, where I will or won't live, what
type of ministry I will or won't have. You
choose, Lord. I no longer want to decide what is
best for me, You choose."

Now upon arriving in the U.S. I am hit with
cancer. I feel as though I am being tested.
Are you sure you want God to choose? And my
answer is yes! I will take whatever He brings me
and I will embrace it. The only thing I ask is
that I might be faithful to Him in the midst of
this trial. This is my heart.

Thank you all for your wonderful support.
I know that God is sustaining me through
your prayers.

Newspaper

My mind feels like a newspaper printing press, with the words and pictures rolling by so quickily they are unintelligible.  So I don't think I can give you a story this month. 

God's Provision

It has been over two months here and no rain.
It is a hard time for the subsistent farmer, for
my friends down in Ita Angu'a. The cotton's
growth stunted by lack of water forced bolls to
open too soon and too small. Soy beans dried in
the fields before they could even bloom, let
alone bear fruit. A tired despair of sweat and
dust marks the faces of the men who wait... and
wait.

This is the season for what would have been the
cash crops, the crops that would have put a
little money in the pockets of the poor. Money
to buy paint, fencing posts and wire, money to
buy a new pig or something special for the kids
and the wife. Money that would pay for needed
medicines and funerals in the comming year. But
now nothing.

Our Wednesday Bible study was subdued. Only
stars in the early morning sky, no sign of rain
and another day to wait. As I prayed with the
couples and they shared with me the way things
were, I said sometimes it's hard to understand
what God is doing, how a growing season that
seemed so hopeful could end so miserably.

They said, "Not at all!. God allowed our corn
and manioc root to survive and we will have
plenty to eat until the next harvest. And the
money for taking care of the family...God will
just have to provide some other way." Tired
smiles and nods of agreement that express both
faith and hardship were passed among us.

Rain has come, but it came too late. Pray for
these hard times.

Ernesto's Baptism

Ernesto Mesa is a 65 year old man with Rheumatoid
Arthritis who suffers from internal bleeding
from a stomach operation that never healed
properly. He has a hunched back and now is
unable to walk. He was nearly killed by a
severe bout with the flu.

He also loves the Lord and has rejoiced daily
for many years in knowing his Saviour. Up until a
few months ago, before the flu, he would hobble
around Ita Angu'a with his cane in hand, telling
anyone who would listen about the love of Jesus
and their need to repent and come to Him.

One day before we moved to Villarrica Ernesto
was baptised.

Carried in his bed down a foot trail that his
boys had widened with machetes for this very
trip, lifted over a barbed wire fence and
maneuvered through a small forest, and finally
placed by a small stream where his friends and
family were waiting, Ernesto, half grimacing
from the pain of his arthritis and half smiling
for joy, sat as two Paraguayan pastors and
myself sang songs and preached on baptism.

After one more song we lifted him from his bed
and carried him into the water where, in a
whisper of weakness and pain, he gave his
confession of faith and was baptised.

We returned him to his bed where he sat with
dignity, knowing that in this too, he had obeyed
the Lord.

God Said Move

As I talked with our Acting Field Director here
in Paraguay, he related to me his concerns for a
young, first-term, missionary couple that was
under incredible stress.

Left to pastor a growing church and direct a
small school with no other missionaries to help
on site, they were at the point of calling it
quits and heading back to the states.

When I hung up the phone and told Kelly the
story, we both felt an overwhelming burden for
this couple, and we asked God if He might want
us to go help them. The Lord impressed upon us
that it was His will to go.

We will be trimming back severly our ministry
here in Ita Angu'a as we will be moving to
Villarrica. Villarrica is where Kelly and I
first worked with youth and helped plant the
very church this young couple is now pastoring.

"Had we heard the Lord clearly on this
decision?", we wondered. A confirmation that we
had, came after spending only 3 hours in
Villarrica looking for a house.

A member of the church in Villarrica is going to
let us use for free his fully furnished house.
This house has everything all the way down to
silverware. We will basically just walk in and
settle down. In that same three hours we were
also given the use of a car for free. PRAISE THE
LORD!

Pretty Mundane

10 hour layover in Bolivia
flight delayed
then cancelled
24 hours in a hotel
4 hour flight
4 hours by bus
2 hours by car to Ita Angu'a
sleep
one day of ministry
sleep
6 hours by car to Asuncion
7 days in bed with intense fever and headache
dinner out with SIM chaplin
7 1/2 hour bus ride back home to Ita Angu'a
"ready to roll"

Sometimes it's pretty mundane,
just like that.

My Pistol

As I practiced some Guarani and had my quiet
time with the Lord, I heard a pick-up truck go
by our house on the dirt road. I thought it was
odd that someone was out so early, but I also
knew someone had been stealing cattle from the
farmers around our house. So with that a made a
mental note of the sound of the truck and the
time; 3:15.

I decided to ride my horse to my discipleship
meeting because it had rained the day before,
and the horse was a lot more sure footed than me
on muddy roads.

I was on my horse and on the road when I heard
the sound of that same pick-up, this time coming
towards me on the road. I could see it's lights
sweep out on the forest trees as he rounded the
last corner between him and me. Then with his
high beams on he came up the road and stopped
about 15 yards ahead of me.

My horse tensed up under me, and he was not
liking the bright lights. I was not likeing
the fact that these may be armed men who had
just stolen a cow! I turned the horse to the
side and as I did I heard the truck door open.
I couldn't see a thing beyond the trucks lights.

I thought about my options. Run? They'd catch
me. Ignore them? They still might shoot me,
because I'd seen them. Bluff? At the time I
thought this was the best option. I pushed my
shirt-tail to the side and reached back to my
right hip, acting as if I had a pistol holstered
at my side. (Many men travel with pistols on the
roads at night, so this seemed like a reasonable
bluff.) So with my pretend pistol held at the
ready, I stared them down. And waited for their
next move.

Their next move was to get back in the truck and
move towards me. I held my ground, ready to
pull my finger out, and use it if I had too.

As they passed they yelled out my name and began
"whooping it up" and laughing. They were all
friends of mine, going to an early morning
agricultural meeting. They knew me well and
knew I didn't have a gun to my name. They had
been watching me and laughing the whole time.

3:00 AM Bible Studies

The alarm goes off at 3:00AM, and I'm actually
getting used to it. Twice a week, and soon 4
times a week, I'll be getting up at this hour to
go to Bible studies with some key men and their
wives. These are the men I think that God will
use to continue His church while we're gone to
the States for a year.

I'm out the door and 4:00 and then the 45 minute
walk on a star lit road, next, a nice shortcut
through some very dark woods and I arrive at
Maximo's house. From a distance I can see the
firelight escaping from between the slats of his
cooking room.

He's been up with his wife for a while, talking
about the kids and the crops. They invite me in
to a small wooden room with a fire burning in
the middle of the floor. A blackend aluminum
tea pot sits among the coals. We sit near the
floor on low, short benches and drink hot tea,
chatting about how dry it is, how hard the
ground is, and and how the birds ate his first
planting of corn. Soon he'll say, like he
always does, "Let's go brother and read God's
word"

We walk about 50 yards to His father's house
because he has electricity for lights. Maximo's
mom hurriedly swats at the table with a rag to
clean off the dust and then reverendly puts down
a table cloth where I will set my Bible. It's
time to pray and get into the Word.

Today's lesson is about John 1:12, 1 Peter 1:3
and John 10:28. Maximo struggles to use his
pencil which is barely an inch long, his
handwriting and spelling are like that of a
second grader. Later I will work a little in the
fields with him, clearing brush with a machete or
hoeing weeds in his field. Then it will be me
who works like the second grader. In the field
Maximo will guard my pride and encourage me in my
work, even though I am slow and weak. Now, I
will encourage him.

Pencils, hoes, and machetes are but rough and
primitive tools compared to the Word of God and
the work it is able to do. We are not asking
God to change our handwriting or our fields, we
are asking Him to change our hearts.

The sun has yet to come over the horizon, but it
is light enough to be in the fields, so Maximo
must get on with the work of feeding his family.
As I rise to leave, we pray that God would
continue to guide us, and we pray for rain.

I love this man, and how I love to see him
growing daily in his knowledge of the grace of
God.

Being Foolish

"Get ready to feel foolish." That's one of the
things I'd tell people if they wanted to
minister in a rural area of Paraguay. I grew up
in a suburban neighbourhood and my contact with
life on a farm has been limited to "hogs" and a
couple of friends with 4-H projects. Here in
rural Paraguay there is a whole body of knowledge
which it seems everyone knows, except me. Here
are a few examples of my "foolishness."

If your going to hang meat outside over night,
hang it REALLY high. Dogs can jump over six
feet to rip a bag and get the prize. (Recently
lost 24 pounds of beef by hanging it too low.)

Chickens only look fat, but are able to
squeeze through seemingly impossible spaces.
(After loosing all my beets to a marauding
band of neighbourhood chickens, due to improper
spacing of picket fence boards)

You don't try to cook a whole 64 pound pig
over an open fire. (Pigs here are raised for
the fat that can be rendered from them, and so
nearly 32 pounds of pure fat dripped into the
fire, worth about 5 days wages for the men in
our village.)

Don't ask someone what time you are going to
light your self on fire. (A language slip up
when I meant to ask What time we are going to
start the fire.)

My egos can get bruised pretty easy when I
forget that who I am is defined by Who I know,
and not by what I know. When we feel foolish,
inadequate, or out of place, my we all find
comfort in knowing our Lord Jesus.

Rolf and the Joy of Giving

Rolf is a German baker, who was won to the Lord
by the patient discipleship of our former
co-worker Mark Johnson in Villarrica.

Last year when Rolf heard that we needed a place
for our next youth camp he volunteered His
property as the site. He has a small farm where
he used to raise cattle and raises pigs and runs
his bakery now. When we agreed to use his
property, he went into "high gear".

He tore down the infrastructure of his milk barn
to make a dining area. He emptied his feed
mill and storage area to make a place for the
girls to sleep. He felled a 20 foot pine tree to
use as the center post for a huge 45 foot in
diameter building with a thatched roof which
would serve as the main meeting room.

He built bathrooms, installed showers, and lit
the area completely with florescent lights.
Except for about 80 dollars, all the expenses
were paid for out of his pocket.

Everytime I would see Rolf, I would tell him he
didn't need to spend so much to improve the
property. He always answered the same way.
With a broad smile and a "bear hug" he would say
he loved to do these things and if just one
young person came to know the Lord at camp it
would all be worth it.

Rolf knows the joy of selfless giving.

Our Car Was Stolen

Apon waking this morning I found that our car had been stolen.  We have reported this to the police and informed our neighbors. Our greatest treasure continues to be Jesus Christ and we know that God has a purpose in everything he allows to happen to those who love Him.

It will truely be a miricle if our car is returned to us.  Many are stolen, few are ever recovered.

The Man and the Machette

Unlike the city, there is very little night life
in the village where we live, and even less
movement when it is pouring down rain. However,
it didn't stop the two men who were calling
outside our front door on this particular night.

The men were soaked with rain and had been
running for about 3 miles to get to my house. A
friend of theirs had slipped and fallen
backwards onto a machete he was carrying in a bag
on his back. They said he had lost a lot of blood
and needed to go to the hospital.

We got the men some towels and jumped in the car
to go get the man. The roads were not pretty
and the man who had fallen lived in a hilly
area, so we were unable to make it all the way
to his house. I stopped the car and turned off
the lights and immediately we were surrounded by
the blackness of the night. In the distance,
from the direction of the injured man's house I
could see the light of flashlights bobbing up
and down as they moved closer.

As the lights got closer I could see they were
carring the injured man on a cot type bed. The
man was on all fours like a dog and his fingers
gripped through the strips of raw hide that
laced the cot's surface. He grimaced as they
sat the bed down. The machete had been driven 3
inches deep underneath his shoulder blade.

The rain poured even harder as we left for the
hospital, but we arrived with out incident.
After the doctor cleaned and sewed up the wound
we started for his house. I felt the road back
to his house was now impassable and didn't know
what to do. Then about a 1/2 mile from his
house the man said that he could not ask me to
take him on such a difficult road and told me he
would walk the rest of the way.

In the heavy rains and darkness my headlights
barely reached 20 yards and the barefoot,
shirtless man quickly faded from view as he picked
his way down the path looking for the best
footing.

I will visit this man in the coming weeks to see
how he is doing, read the Bible and invite him
to our men's Bible study on Saturdays.

Mourning and Communittee

"Oh, Tomas!", a woman mourns, as she hugs me and
meets me at the gate of her sister's house who
had died 9 days ago. It is the last day of 9
days of reciting the rosary, and it is time for
the "Tupa Mba'e".

This is a meal that is served to the people of
the community in honor of the person who has
died. Traditionally the meal was served to gain
God's favor on behalf of the deceased loved one
in order to help him move out of purgatory and
into heaven.

To many the traditional reason has been lost,
and it is now done as a community service.

I am here at the request of the family, and
after shaking 30 men's hands, I am seated at the
table in front of an alter adorned with black
cloth, flowers, candles, and a picture of the
woman who has died.

The meal starts with a beef soup, followed by
another kind of soup with spiced corn dumplings.
In turn another plate with rice and milk is
served for dessert. It is almost more than one
person can eat.

While I eat inside the house, some 350 other
people are being served by family and friends
outside in the yard.

When our meal is done, we stand together behind
our chairs and recite a Catholic prayer. I am
asked to lead the prayer this time, but have to
tell them I don't know the special prayer. An
older man tells every one that I will pray in my
own way. After nods of agreement all around I
pray for a blessing on the household and thank
God for the food.

I go back out into the yard to shake more hands
and chat with people. I sit next to Juanita, an
old woman whose son died in my car last year as I
rushed him to the hospital. I put my arm around
her as she cries and remembers her loss.

Three and half hours have past and it is time to
go home. Being part of a community means
weeping and rejoicing with those who live around
us. It means giving to the needy and receiving
the generosity of these same needy people.