Joyously Abandoned

In my post Face the If I mentioned how Wilda Mathews was caught in the trap of 'if onlys' on Easter Sunday 1952, deep in the heart of Communist China. A year later, as Easter rolled around again, she was determined that it wouldn't be another black day for her. She started studying the resurrection story and resurrection life, and when she came to Peter's part she felt condemned.

She had not said, 'I know Him not' but she had no joy. She was not bitter, but she was frustrated and restless. Her opportunity to witness to the Chinese eyes around them that she did know the Lord and that He was satisfying her drought—had she shown that? If not, wasn't that denying the Lord before man?

As I've read that many times now, I'm constantly convicted by it. Am I joyfully living? Like Wilda, I'm not bitter, but I've certainly been frustrated and restless at times. Can others see that Christ is not just meeting my needs, but fulfilling me, too? That His Life is flowing through me? Would others see my green leaves even though my life might be in the biggest drought yet to face me?

Two months later, Wilda's husband, Arthur, came to a similar conclusion. He had been reading Ephesians 5:10 and asked her what she thought was “well-pleasing to the Lord in these our experiences?” As they talked it over, Wilda was able to share with him her Easter lesson:

Not to receive it joyfully was to deny the Lord before men...A few nights later it came to Arthur like a flash: the Son had left Heaven, not submitting to the will of God, but delighting in it. Up to now they had been submitting; rather feverishly submitting...

The Son had left Heaven, not submitting to the will of God, but delighting in it.

In a letter home, Arthur wrote this about all they had learned:
Just to say submission to the will of God did not seem to go deep enough, for we had been trying for a long time to do just that. If you had a servant you would expect submission from him, just as you would from an old bullock with a yoke on its neck. But as sons surely there was something more than that.

...So as we uncovered the earth we could see that our prayers had selfishly centered around the shortening of the days...There was none of the recklessness of faith such as the three friends of Daniel showed. Nor was there the spirit of joyous abandonment which the widow displayed in giving her two mites.

So we came to see that God wanted us to will with Him to stay put; not to desire to run away as quickly as we could persuade Him to let us...The great chords that sounded through our hearts as we touched the Joyously Abandoned keys were really thrilling...

So we are no longer stupid bullocks being driven or dragged unwillingly along a distasteful road; but sons, co-operating wholeheartedly with our Father...

The yoke is LIGHT only as it is TAKEN, and not as it is suffered.

Simple submission is not enough. Delighting in doing God's will, in living out the will of God for your life, is where the great joy is.

I haven't mentioned here all the things the Mathews lived with, and without during their years of waiting to be released from China, but their living conditions were such that the Chinese Christians pitied them. But was there a purpose for all that God asked of this missionary couple? Yes, there was a tremendous purpose! Here's how Isobel Kuhn wrote it:

The message above all others which the Chinese church needed was to see that truth lived out under circumstances equally harrowing as their own.

Arthur and Wilda had longed to serve Him; but humanlike they had put their own interpretation on what service is. They thought it meant preaching with their lips. Amy Carmichael once replied to a Tamil Christian who took this meaning of service: 'God didn't make you all mouth.' The most potent way to preach is by life, by living it. This was the service which the Mathews family were to render to Him.

The message of this chapter has been running through my mind for two weeks, now, and the affect it's had on me is deep.

Being joyously abandoned to God's will is where I want to be.


Italicized parts of this post are direct quotations from Green Leaf in Drought by Isobel Kuhn, chapter 8.
This is a repost from October 2008.

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Face the If

One of the books I love is Green Leaf in Drought by Isobel Kuhn since it's one of those books that greatly impacted my life. I first read it in college, 25+ years ago, after Cheryl sent me a copy. (She also gave me several other books by Isobel Kuhn, and they are on my favorite books shelf.)

Green Leaf in Drought is about Arthur and Wilda Matthews, who were missionaries to China. They were the last of the China Inland Mission members to leave Communist China in 1953, after spending 2-3 years caught in the grip of the Red Regime—but this is NOT a book about the regime nor even of China. This little gem is about how Arthur and Wilda's faith flourished while under great pressure. Not just moments of pressure, but 2 ½ years of constant pressure.

Late in 1950, while others were leaving the country, the Matthews went deeper into China so they could reach out to the Mongols. Expecting a welcome and a home to live in, they were hit with immediate disappointment and discomfort. Every time they turned around their circle was downsized until they were confined to the compound and not allowed to minister to even the Chinese church that met at the compound. I'll tell more about them in future posts, but something that is standing out to me is Wilda's struggle with doubt. Was this God's doing, or were they the victims of a mistake?

View Larger Map She was caught up in the “If only...” game and it was eating at her. That's something many of us can relate to! On Easter Sunday of 1951, Wilda found herself thinking, “If He really lives today, as the song says, why had He allowed this?” As she worked she remembered two tracts she had, “The 'If' in Your Life” by A.B. Simpson and 'Second Causes' by Hudson Taylor.

The glory of God is to come out of the 'if' in your life...Do not be thinking of your 'if.' Make a power out of your 'if' for God...Do you know that a light is to fall on your 'if' some day? Then take in the possibilities and say, 'Nothing has ever come to me, nothing has ever gone from me, that I shall not be better for God by it...' Face the 'if' in your life and say, For this I have Jesus. ~The 'If' In Your Life

The second tract said, “The secret of Hudson Taylor's rest of heart amid such tempests of hate was his refusal to look at second causes...He believed it was with God, and God alone, he to do.”

Wilda accepted that her circumstances were not a mistake, they were directly from God. She held on to this scripture:

You need not fight in this battle;
station yourselves, stand and see
the salvation of the Lord on your behalf.
~2 Chronicles 20:17 (NAS)

In a letter home, Arthur wrote, “These trials of faith are to give us patience, for patience can only be worked as faith goes into the Pressure Chamber. To pull out because the pressure is laid on, and to start fretting would be to lose all the good He has in this for us.”

There have been times in my life that 'if only' had the center stage, and I was miserable. We can not focus on those if's. We need to see that all that comes into our lives is for God's glory to shine through us, and that it comes from His hand—it's not a mistake.

The meaning of all that God does with us—joys and sorrows, light and darkness...is that our wills may be made plastic and flexible. ~Alexander MacLaren

There's more from this little gem of a book, but I'll save it for another day.

This is a repost from October 12, 2008. 

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Boys, boys, boys

We knew going in we would not only enjoy ourselves, but that we'd be blessed. And we were--above and beyond what we thought. Far above. Recently we were a host home for some of the Watoto children from Uganda and although we only got to spend a few hours with them, we fell in love fast! Here's our boys and their caretaker, Uncle Nicholas.

In the morning the boys were anxious to go outside and play. They loved being able to run around for awhile and they didn't mind substituting a volleyball for a soccer ball. They ran circles around my boys! =]

The little time we spent inside was full of legos, blocks, airplanes and kittens.

The youngest of the boys and and Alex teamed up. I don't know who had more fun, but they sure made a towering giant.

Although Bruce wasn't at our house, he connected with my middle son. I have a feeling the impact of that friendship will be felt for quite awhile. He was missed immediately.

These boys immediately became our boys and it was hard to let them go and wave goodbye. If you ever have a chance to hear a Watoto Childrens' Choir, GO! And if you can, host a few of them in your home. It will be a breath of fresh air and it just might change your life.

So tell me, what's been the highlight of your week?

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My Basket...

...Overfloweth.

Last week 4 of 7 of us were gone on a missions trip to North Carolina. They were gone for 10 days and I used those days to put in some extra long hours here on the computer. I accomplished a lot, but none of it was normal household stuff. When there's only 3 of you home and 2 acted like professional couch potatoes, there's very little housework to do! What a novelty.

Reality has returned and my laundry basket and laundry room are proof!

*Picture shown without the 5 sleeping bags that need washing. No insects were killed in the filming of this scene because none came home with them! Just the stink aroma of filthy, sweaty dirty laundry stored at high temperatures.

I had 2 choices: view this mountain as a smelly pile of yuck, or see the blessing in the blech.

Where's the blessing?
Seeing my kids excited about sweating and working their tails off for and with others. They went on a missions trip with our church youth group, as they do every year, and they're learning to serve with a smile.

And now, this is my opportunity to serve with a smile.
Ever wonder how much laundry a family of 7 makes in a week? Stay tuned and I just might show you. ;-)
Gotta run. The dryer is buzzing... again.

Don't miss out on the blessings that are often hiding in the blech of life.

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Unimportant Update

Yesterday I finished two major projects I HAD to do this week: finish our Christmas shopping and finish the preliminary edits for my husband's book about gender dynamics. Actually, I've been working on those edits since March, so this has been a major project, especially considering that I'm not an editor (which is why I did only the preliminary edits!) and the material wasn't something I would normally have an interest in. But I do have a great interest in my husband and I've heard much about gender dynamics since I'm one of his sounding boards. =) What a learning experience this year has been! Now that project is off my plate. Kind of. LoL

In the cracks of time (it's amazing how much you can read in 5-10 minute segments!) I've been reading and researching for my new project, the one God gave me on my birthday. I've read Through Gates of Splendor, These Strange Ashes, and No Graven Image, all by Elisabeth Elliot and all about Ecuador. I love reading missionary stories and I love reading about Ecuador—the people and the country itself.

The next books on my list are Jungle Pilot (about Nate Saint's life) and End of the Spear (written by Steve Saint, Nate's son). I have to tell ya, I'm having a very hard time making myself do the things I need to—things like correct the kids' school work, plan (and help cook) the meals, fold the mountain of laundry, sweep and vacuum. You know, the usual things I need to do to keep our household running smoothly, or at least running. LoL All I want to do is dive into End of the Spear. I know that's reading the books out of order, but it's a library book I had to order from a different library and I want to make sure it's read by the time it's due. Thankfully, I own Jungle Pilot, thanks to the generosity of Missionary Aviation Fellowship.

Speaking of MAF, I really, really, want to write a book (a novel LoL) about an MAF pilot. Last month, as I read a bit about Nate Saint (in Through Gates of Splendor and flipping throuugh Jungle Pilot) and then did some research online, I had to pry myself away and refocus on the storylines I have. Those stories have to take place before or during World War II to fit in the parameters of the publisher I'm aiming for, and MAF wasn't started until just after the war, by veterans. Men who saw a need, saw they could fill it with the skills God had given them, and they obeyed God's call. Their obedience to God and the vision He gave them changed the landscape of missions. My brain goes into a frenzy when I start thinking of possible storylines with MAF pilots and someday I'd love to follow that...

This is the second or third week that I've done NO writing. This week I've not been on the computer much, except to edit for Jim. I'm backlogged and feeling a bit panicky about not writing and all the things I need to do (my writing to-do list, not even considering my daily living to-do list!!). I've let Adding Zest sit idle because those articles take a huge amount of time and energy to write, time and energy I just haven't had. I've also let this place sit idle except for the author spotlights. But yanno, that's okay. =)

Just wanted to give you an unimportant update of what's been going on. Next year (LoL it's just a couple weeks away!) I'll get back to my normal routine around here with devotionals, not just author spotlights.

If you haven't seen them yet, there's two book giveaways going on this week:
Margaret Daley with Christmas Peril, and Amber Stockton with the winner's choice of book. Both book drawings close late tomorrow night, so if you haven't entered, you still have time!

Merry Christmas!!

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Swirling

Do you ever feel like you have soooo much you have to do that you feel like you're going nowhere (because you aren't!)? That's how I've been for two weeks now. I have about a hundred things I HAVE to do, another hundred that I WANT to do, and yet another hundred that I SHOULD do...and none of them are getting done.

As time has allowed, I've been reading Through Gates of Splendor by Elisabeth Elliot. Five minutes here and ten minutes there adds up...eventually. I'm soaking it all in, not rushing, but mulling things over and even making notes. Earlier this week I received Jungle Pilot in the mail. It's Nate Saint's story and I have to tell you, I'm dying to jump into it, but I'm being really, really firm with myself and finishing Through Gates of Splendor first. I DID flip through the picture section, and had to go for tissues. There's just something about missions and Ecuador that gets me every single time.

I've come across some good quotes that I want to share with you, and I will, but right now my thoughts are swirling. I'm wrestling with doubt and fear over this writing project, but God is holding me to it. I WANT to write fiction about missions, and I have a story line in mind. I don't know if it's one book or two or three, but I do know I need to obey and write it. I'll write it to the very best of my ability and leave it up to God to do with it as He wishes. My duty is obedience. Joyful obedience. It's something I keep seeing as I study and research missions. I'm so blessed to have such a 'job.'

Anyway. I just wanted to let you guys know I haven't forgotten my blog. My mind is like a whirlpool these days and soon my fingers will catch up to a thought and you'll hear about it.

So tell me, what's your week been like? Any surprises? How about blessings and unexpected joys?

Don't forget to enter the drawing for the book that was in the spotlight Monday by Shirley Kiger Connolly. Also in this week's spotlight is A Stray Drop of Blood by Roseanna White. Both book giveaways are open until Saturday night and the winners will be posted on Sunday.

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Another Surprising Twist

My birthday was quite a day. An amazing day. First thing in the morning I went to one of my favorite sites, The Seekers, to make sure I didn't miss the fun they had planned for the day. They had Tina James, senior editor from Steeple Hill Love Inspired—my target publisher and a book giveaway every hour. That adds up to a must read early status! =]

As I read the interview I came to a sentence that I had to read about 4 times before I was sure I wasn't seeing things. Here's what it said: “We are also interested in stories featuring missionaries abroad in exotic locations during various historical periods.” Now, for those of you that know me really well, know that I went on high alert right then. But I pressed on with the article, determined to read it all and leave my comment to get my name in the hat for the book drawings. (Yanno, important things first. *eye roll*)

When I left my comment, I copied and pasted that sentence and mentioned how it had caught my attention because I'm an MK who happens to love history. And writing. But then I sat and stared at the computer screen as my brain went into overdrive with ideas, possibilities and what I would need to do so I could write a historical missionary novel.

Since then I've begun some preliminary research online and I have plans for contacting people I know who might be able to point me in the right direction for more information, as well as contacting mission agencies that I know were in Ecuador in the early days. I'm centering my research on missionary life between the years of 1900-1960, with an emphasis on prior to 1950. I'm also focusing my research on missions in South America, especially Ecuador, but I'll be researching and studying much more than just Ecuador and South America because I'd like to write more than one missionary novel.

I have reasons for doing this. It's not just a whim.
~God has called me to write.

~Missions has had a huge influence on my life. I am who I am today because of missions and missionaries who invested in me.

~That sentence that caught my attention has been sitting on the Love Inspired Historical website for who knows how long and I never saw it until my birthday.

~For 40 days before my birthday I celebrated and prepared for the upcoming year. I was seeking (and still am) God's will for my year. I want His best and I want to follow Him. God is a God of infinite detail and I believe His hand was in the timing of me seeing that sentence.

~For 20 years I've been wanting to do something to increase missions awareness so more will pray for them and be involved in their outreach. Last year, part of my 40 day birthday celebration was a missions spotlight for that purpose. (It's archived under the Missions Matter tab above.) Writing missionary novels—fictional missionary stories—will get missions and missionaries in front of readers.

~I want to help people see and understand that missionaries are real people. They aren't super-spiritual people who speak in thee's and thou's and have no fun! Missionaries are approachable and need prayer and support, but so often we seldom hear about them as we sit here in the States. They're off our radar screens—to our detriment.

In the few days since that sentence wrapped itself around my neck, I've thought of nothing else. I've been doing preliminary research and a lot of thinking and soul searching. When I shared this with some of my friends, they didn't laugh. They encouraged me and started praying. My family and those that know me best (warts and all) see this as a good fit. I'll be diving into research, knowing it will be more than just research—it will be challenging on every level, especially spiritually. I'm looking forward to it. I love reading missionary stories. I find them interesting and I always grow as I read them. The other research I was looking at having to do was a drudgery. This is a joy.

You'll be in on the highlights of my research. As I come across thoughts and quotes that challenge me I'll post about them here. I've already found one and I'm anxious to share it with you.

I wanted to share all this with you here because I truly believe this is one of the results of my 40 day celebration and preparation. Have you been thinking about what you can do in the last 40 days of this year to help prepare you for the upcoming year? The 40 day countdown starts on Sunday, November 22 –a week from today.

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From These Ashes

This is a story that is near and dear to my heart because the setting is where I consider home--Ecuador. This is fiction, but things like this happen.
~*~*~*~*~*~

From These Ashes
They're too weak to bear this, Lord. Jared slumped against the mud courtyard wall and looked at the church. Pieces of jagged glass clung to charred window frames, bearing testimony of the destruction within the cinder block walls. Tendrils of smoke curled out from the smoldering heap that was once a pulpit and simple wooden pews.

Jared raised his eyes to the roof of the building. Even the cross Marco made, Lord, it's gone. And the new Bibles and hymnbooks. Oh, Lord, I wish I hadn't brought them over last night. His eyes slid closed as his chin dropped onto his chest.

At the squeal of the gate Jared looked up. Marco stepped in and stood surveying the damage the vandals had done. Looking up at the roof, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set, but he said nothing. He turned and looked around the courtyard at the garbage that had been dumped and strewn around. Shaking his head, he walked back out the gate without looking back.

Jared's head fell back against the wall and his eyes burned from more than just smoke. Lord, Marco is leaving--the man I thought could someday be the pastor here.

Jared heard the gate clanking, but didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to see any one else turn away. After a moment, a scraping noise grated on his ears and he raised his head.

“Marco. What are you doing?” he asked.

Marco leaned on the handle of his shovel. “We have a service here in 30 minutes and I thought it'd be more pleasant if we didn't have to stand amidst the garbage.”

“I don't know that it will make a difference.”

Marco looked down, scraping the sole of his worn shoe on the shovel. Scratching his trimmed, black beard he looked at Jared. “That's just a building, Pastor,” he said. “The people, the true church, will still be here in 30 minutes.”

Will they come, though?

The gate squealed again and a group of women entered, each carrying a broom. Their hushed talk ceased as they stood in the courtyard.

Tears rolled down Carmen's face as she looked at the destruction. “Those men who did this are fighting against God. They think that burning the church will put an end to God pursuing them, but they're wrong. We need to pray even harder for them now.”

Jared rose to his feet, emotion filling his throat as he reached for the extra shovel Marco had brought. Here I was, thinking they weren't strong enough to handle this, Lord, and they're praying for the ones who did it. Forgive me, Father, and help me learn from them. Give me the wisdom to handle this correctly. Please, use this for Your glory.

Garbage quickly gave way to people as they trickled in, each whispering about the men who they suspected of destroying the church. Each week two or three men had been across the street, scoffing as people came and went from church. They were the star players of the towns' soccer team and were influential with the men of the town. Many church people had been praying specifically for their salvation. This morning they were nowhere to be found.

Jared wiped his hands on a rag as he looked around at the group gathered in the courtyard. Father, they're all here. Not one is missing.

Marco stood beside him, grinning. “This is the church, Pastor.”

Jared smiled, struggling to find his voice. “How did you become so wise, my friend?”

“You taught me that, just as you taught me that good can come from these ashes.”

Lord, bring beauty from these ashes...

Jared raised his hands, and in a clear, strong voice he led his flock. “Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow...”

When the last notes faded away Jared raised his voice again. “Jesus asked Peter an important question one time. He asked, 'Who do you say that I am?' and Peter answered, 'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.' Jesus' response was, 'and upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades shall not overpower it.'*” Jared turned and reached for his Bible.

Pray for the men who did this, Jared.

Now, Lord?

Now.

Jared turned back to the group without his Bible. “Pray with me. Dear Heavenly Father, I pray for those that did this. Let them see that burning a church will not put an end to You pursuing them. Don't let go of them until they stop fighting against You and completely surrender to You. Open their hearts to Your love and forgiveness. Please, Lord, do not let go of them; draw them to Yourself and make them one of Your beloved children. In the name of Jesus, Your resurrected Son, I pray, amen.”

Hiding in the shadows of the alley, a man who reeked of whiskey, wood smoke and garbage wrapped his arms around himself as his head dropped and his shoulders shook.


* Matthew 16:15-18 (NASB)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I'm so excited! This is the first time I've been able to participate in Fiction Friday for months. And the first time I've participated since passing on the baton. I meant to announce to everyone that Fiction Friday is now hosted by Karlene, a wonderful Faithwriters friend I got to meet in August at the conference. Karlene is a doll. Sweet, fun to be with and a servant's heart. I was thrilled when she said she would take over Fiction Friday for us. Thank you, Karlene! I'm so thankful for you!!

For links to more fun fiction stop by this week's host, Stina at With Pen in Hand.

Missions and missionaries are much on my mind these days, especially with Heidi's Candle in the Corner missions spotlights going on. Be sure to stop by and check it out and participate!

You'll also find this story at Journey Ezine, a wonderful mission outreach ezine. Check them out!

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Sitting Forward

My friend and partner in crime over at Adding Zest is hosting the coolest spotlights these next two weeks. Heidi, of Moms, Ministry and More, is a missionary in Asia and she's spotlighting fellow missionaries in her 'Candle in the Corner' Giveaway. Be sure to stop by her place and say hi and meet these awesome people that are serving God overseas.


~*~*~*~*~*~

I often get to sit in the back of the van when the whole family is going somewhere, like church. The other day I was sitting back there beside my youngest and he was leaning forward, anxious to see all he could. His eyes darted everywhere and he missed very little. In contrast, I was comfortably leaning back in my seat, as relaxed as I could be with a student driver at the wheel, and I just kind of zoned out.

As I watched him, I was struck by how he and I represented Christian living. Sometimes we're leaning forward in anticipation, anxious to see and experience all we can, and other times we're lounging back, oblivious to much of what's going on around us, relaxing and zoning out.

As the deer pants for the water brooks,
so my soul pants for You, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God;
when shall I come and appear before God?
~Psalm 42:1-2

It made me stop and think about how I'm sitting before God. Am I leaning forward, anxious to see more of Him, or am I zoning out as I relax? I want that eager anticipation of a child. I want to lean forward and be watchful. I want my soul to thirst for God, for the living God and I want to be eager to enter into His presence.

How about you? How are you sitting in your spiritual life?



Don't forget this week's book giveaway is still going on and there's time to enter the drawing for Jenness Walker's new book, Double Take. Just leave a comment or two on her spotlight posts here.

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Plagued By a Piece of Cake

This week Sherri is hosting Fiction Friday for us over at A Candid Thought. Join us there for links to more fun fiction! Also, Cara Putnam is in the author spotlight here this week she's giving away a copy of her new release, A Promise Kept. Be sure to leave a comment on Tuesday's or Wednesday's post to be entered in the drawing.

Now that our Vacation Bible School is over for our church, our eyes are fixed on the upcoming World Changers trip. This year 3 of my kids will going with 60+ others from our church youth department for a week of work. This is a highlight of their year and they're excited!

Throughout the summer many others are going on missions trips, and as you know, missions and missionaries are near-and-dear to my heart. So, for today's Fiction Friday, I'm posting a piece to remind us to pray for those going on missions trips.

Plagued By a Piece of Cake
***Thursday***
I'm so excited I can't sleep. Tomorrow we leave on our missions trip and I can't wait. Cindy, my team leader, keeps asking me if I'm sure I want to do this. I keep telling her I love people and new experiences. This is going to be a fabulous two weeks, I just know it.


***Friday***
This place is beautiful! Palm trees line the streets and snow capped mountains are in the distance—just gorgeous! We're spending the night in a dorm that missionary kids live in during the school year and it's not much different than my college dorm. There's even a t.v. in the living room area, and we had meatloaf for supper. I don't see what the big deal was about and why we had to sit through all that orientation. Tomorrow we travel to Chillanes where we'll work on their church. This is going to be a piece of cake.


***Saturday***
I thought we were going to die on the bus ride here! The driver was a madman! He flew around hairpin curves and wove in and out of traffic. He used his horn more than his brakes and he couldn't even stop someplace decent for us to use the restrooms. I have never seen, or smelled, such a disgusting place! The toilets were overflowing, there were no toilet seats, and you had to bring your own tissues in with you. When I started gagging Cindy led me around a hill so I could squat. If I hadn't been so desperate I would've waited for someplace with clean toilets.

It turns out Chillanes is a dirty little town. We're staying in rooms at the school where there's no glass in the windows and no running water: only a smelly outhouse.


***Sunday***
When I mentioned the accommodations to Cindy today, she said, “I kept telling you this is how it would be and you kept telling me you could handle it.” She makes me so mad! There's been dirty kids hanging on her, and she acts like she loves the food. At lunch we got potato soup and bread, and supper was a huge plate of rice and beans with some cooked bananas thrown across the top. Of course, Cindy smiled and cleaned her plate. Everyone loves her—I just don't get it. Tomorrow we start work.


***Friday***
I am so tired I don't know how much I'll be able to write.
The work is harder than I thought it would be and people are always nagging me about being too stand-offish. I work hard, but I can't stand the food, and I'm starving. The dirtiness of the everything is just gross, too. I'm glad the kids don't pester me anymore--their sticky, grimy hands give me chills just thinking about them! The adults are better, but they don't try to talk to me anymore, either. I smile at them and say, 'hola', but they just smile and go talk to someone else. I don't get it.


***Sunday***
We went to another church today, even higher in the mountains and dirtier than this place. I forgot my candy bars and didn't get to eat anything all day. One of the old ladies there gave me some of those baby bananas. I smiled and said thank you, but I couldn't eat them after seeing her dirty fingernails. I threw them out as soon as I could. Later on she wouldn't even look at me but went and sat near Cindy. Of course Cindy put her arm around the lady and gave her a hug. How can she do that?


***Wednesday***
I shared a candy bar with one of the cleaner girls today. She laughed and ran off to share it with her friends. I was so weak I stayed in bed almost all day. Two more days here and then we go back to the city to fly home. The other girls are talking about how much they'll miss the people here, but I don't know why. I tried making friends with them, but even tonight they didn't want anything to do with me. And they say I'm standoffish!


***Friday***
Finally! We're back in civilization! I almost ate myself sick at supper. They served hamburgers and nothing ever tasted so good!

The people here are so much cleaner and friendlier. Why couldn't that village be like this? They don't treat me like I have the plague here-- I don't understand why the village people did.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This was great fun to write because I wove bits of real events in with the fiction. Chillanes is a town in Ecuador, although my description here is NOT accurate of the town, but I wanted to use that town name because two of my favorite missionaries live there--they had a profound influence on my life, whether they know it or not, and I love them greatly.

This sort of thing happens quite often on missions trips--unfortunately--but it doesn't have to! Loving people speaks through our actions and crosses all language barriers. I've seen missionaries kill the language but still have a great ministry because of their love for the people. It all comes down to love--God's love in and through us.

Remember to pray for the missionaries you know, as well as those going on missions trips this summer!

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An Andes High

It's Fiction Friday! Really, it is, even though I'm once again running late. I had a couple of big things come up last night, and I'm still scrambling as a result. But that's okay! They were blessings and I'm so thankful for them! God is showing me again just how good He is. WoW!

Today Rick, at Pod Tales and Ponderings, is hosting Fiction Friday for us. Be sure to join us there for more links to fun fiction. :-)

This week's story is a special one to me--it's about Ecuador and based on a story told me by my classmate, Pete. Similar stories are told by many of my missionary friends from many different countries, and they never cease to amaze me.
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An Andes High

My nose was dripping again from the cold, so I pulled out my bandanna and blew it, then wished I hadn't. I suddenly had an unobstructed whiff of the Quichuas that were packed into the tent to see the Jesus film. Bathing in the icy streams of the Andes Mountains was not something these people did very often, and I didn't blame them—this high in the mountains it was cold, even on sunny days. That whiff was enough to wake me up from the stupor I had fallen into and it was good a thing since the movie was almost over. I wanted to get the reels rewound so I could crawl into my sleeping bag as soon as possible after the meeting ended.

Rubbing my gritty eyes, I saw all the people crowded together, sitting on the ground, watching the movie. The Quichua women, with their heavy wool skirts insulating them against the cold, had children tucked in around them, forming a family cluster, with their father nearby, stoic in his sweater or jacket and traditional wool hat. No one was dozing, no one was even yawning or squirming. All eyes were focused on the canvas wall that served as the projector screen, intently watching.

This was the third night of showing a film at the end of busy days of getting a fresh water supply to the village--if you could call this a village. There was a school building, a thatch outhouse, and one sod home, no more. Other homes were tucked within the folds of the mountains, visible only if you knew what to look for and where to look, yet every night the tent was packed with people wanting to see the Jesus movie. While they sang a few songs in their nasal Quechua language I rewound the reels then settled back to pray while Angelo, a young national pastor, preached in Quechua.

Later, as I was putting away the ancient reel-to-reel projector, a man ran in. “Senor Pedro. Please, will you show the film again tonight?” His face was flushed and I wondered if he'd been out back drinking, but he didn't smell of the local brew.

I was exhausted. The Jesus film was a great tool for reaching these mountain people, many of whom had never seen a movie in their lives, but if I showed the movie again, it'd be hours before I could go to bed. There was a rustling at the doorway that drew my attention. A group of people stood there, all with flushed faces.

Looking back at him I finally recognized the man standing before me--he had been saved the first night we showed the movie.

“Please, my family needs Jesus, too.”

Even though I was exhausted I couldn't miss this opportunity. I called them into the tent then turned and threaded the film strip into the projector while they collapsed on the ground, chattering excitedly. When the movie began they quieted, all except for one or two who translated as much as they could into Quechua. Other people drifted back in to watch and soon the tent was full again.

I stepped outside for a few minutes and took a deep breath of the frigid air. It was cold enough to sting my nose, but wonderfully fresh. I looked up and was once again amazed. Lord, it's beautiful up here. The stars are so close I think I could reach out and touch them, and they're so bright. I slowly turned in a circle, looking at the towering mountain peeks that surrounded me, awed by their velvetty black silhouettes against their starry background. Thank You for getting them here in time and for getting my attention. Please touch their hearts, Lord.

When the movie ended Angelo preached again.

Afterwards the man came to me. “Gracias, Senor Pedro. Mi familia,” he had to swallow and try again. “I knew they needed Jesus, so I ran home and brought them back. Now my family knows Jesus, too.”

Angelo joined us then, smiling. “This man lives a full day's journey from here, on the other side of the mountain. To make it there and back so quickly he must have run the whole way, gathered his family and then come running back, carrying the little ones. He was afraid they'd be too late, but praise God, they weren't.”

And to think I was almost too tired to be bothered...
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Don't forget to join us at Rick's at Pod Tales and Ponderings for more links to Fiction Friday!

Julie Lessman is giving away a copy of one of her books! To be entered in the drawing, leave a comment on one of her posts below. You can either scroll down to Tuesday and Wednesday's posts or click here.

Next week we have Janet Dean and a copy of Courting the Doctor's Daughter. Be sure to join us!

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Be Involved in Missions!

Okay, here's a confession: I was very frustrated in Sunday School the other day. The church we attend has been participating in the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering (for missions) throughout the month of December, which is wonderful, and our Sunday School lessons have had a missions emphasis. As you know, missions is a passion of mine, especially foreign missions. But that lesson made me want to take over the class (which is extremely unusual!) I felt they were completely missing the point, and me, being a genuine know-it-all, wanted to tell them so. But, thanks be to God, I kept my mouth quiet because there wasn't room to get a word in edgewise--and I tried. So, I decided to use Patterings as a soap box. Sorry, but you'll get both barrels of my rant now—also something very unusual for me. But this is missions and I'm Patty...

Missions is so important and we need to support missions and missionaries in every way we can. Not all of us are called to leave our home countries and go, but all of us are to be involved.

Involved in giving so that those who go are able to focus on the ministry and not worry about money to feed their family and pay their bills—even missionaries have electric bills they need to pay! That's part of our responsibility—not just corporately, through the missions budget of our local church, but individually as well! Those who can help support a missionary on a monthly basis should! Those that can't might be able to find a way.

How? I've seen people receive a cash birthday gift and be thrilled because they found they had the money to send to a missionary they felt burdened to give to. Another time someone found money they had stashed away for something they were saving up for, but had long since forgotten what the item was. The amount found was the amount they felt burdened to give to a missions project, but didn't have. God had provided long before the burden was felt. Want another example? Someone I know saves the quarters out of the change she receives while grocery shopping. The quarters go into a special jar and find their way to missionaries. She's not able to give regularly, and her family is currently on a tight budget, but she's been amazed at how many quarters find their way into her jar.

If you just cannot give, you can still be involved through prayer. Missionaries need a network of prayer support. Even if you don't know how to pray for them, you still need to pray. Do they have children? Then pray for their children just like you pray for your own and for your nieces and nephews. That's an obvious one, but what about time for them to spend at the feet of Jesus? Pray that they wouldn't be so caught up in the good work that they forget the best—being in the presence of Jesus. Burdens are heavy no matter where you live and what you do. Pray for refreshment and joy as they carry their loads. How about those that are teaching and preaching? We can pray that they would be sensitive to the message God has for them. There are so many ways to pray without knowing the missionaries themselves.

When I was little, before we went to Ecuador, we were members of a small church on the coast of Maine. In that church there were prayer warriors named Mr. And Mrs. Arrington. They were ancient when I was little and even more ancient when I was in college, but they exuded peace and joy like few others I've known. They had a prayer calendar and they faithfully prayed together. While in college, I learned that my day (not just my parents, but me individually!) was Tuesday, and one time, when I was looking back over events in my life, I noticed that all the big things that 'came together' all happened on Tuesdays. Coincidence? No way. Prayer warriors faithfully praying for me. That's something you can do when you don't have two nickels to rub together and when you're playing taxi driver or washing dishes. Prayer warriors, like any warriors, are not poufed into being, they are grown and trained.

So that leaves us with 'But I don't know any missionaries!' Start praying that God would lead you to them. Search on-line for mission agencies—there's lots of them. Ask your friends and your pastor and church secretary (those ladies are fountains of knowledge!). Many missionaries even have blogs or are on Facebook, now. (There's a few in my sidebar and there's more under my missions tab at the top of this page.) Many have e-newsletters now, and it's a great tool—get on their list and use those newsletters as prayer sheets for them. Mission agencies have prayer calendars and email lists. In today's society, and with our technology, we can easily find missionaries to pray for.

For this coming year, consider finding and becoming involved with missions (if you aren't already). Make it personal and commit to pray regularly. Your prayer has far reaching effects—effects of eternal value!

Here are a few links that I've had some contact with over the years. There are others, but these are the ones that came immediately to mind because of my friends.

HeartCry Mission Society (they support national missionaries)

CrossWorld Missions

Child Evangelism Fellowship

Heart of God International

One Challenge International

International Mission Board

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Exile ~Fiction Friday

A Christmas story.

Welcome to Fiction Friday! This week our host is Rhonda over at Beach Reads. Join us over there for links to more fun fiction.
*****

Exile to Siberia couldn't be worse than this. I wrapped my heavy sweater closer about me as the wind whipped through the converted monastery. A nun led us across the compound, my classmates following eagerly while I felt like I was being shoved into the heart of Siberia.

I grabbed Debbie's arm. “I only know one or two Christmas carols in Spanish!”

She laughed. “Just smile and sing in English.”

“But I can't sing, have you forgotten that?” Panic closed in around me as surely as the stone walls crowded us.

“So? Our being here is what's important to them, not how good we sing.”

How did Debbie get so wise? I decided it came with being born on the mission field, and those of us new to being missionary kids had a lot to learn—fast.

We passed through an arch and then into the commons room where ancient people were huddled around a weak fire, thin blankets wrapped around their stooped shoulders. Watery eyes blinked at us, a few smiles greeted us, and hands reached to touch us, as if they were trying to convince themselves we were real. My friends stopped along the way, holding bony hands within theirs, gently patting shoulders and smiling as they spoke with the people.

I trailed along, shocked by their shivering misery. When a leathery hand clutched my arm, I jumped and pulled back, but the lady held tight. There was wonder in her eyes as she looked at me, and when she pulled me down, I shakily knelt beside her chair. Gnarled fingers gently touched my hair, then combed through my blond curls.

My throat tightened and began to burn. It had been almost a year since I had seen my grandmother, almost a year since she had combed through my hair and crooned to me like this at the airport. This was my first Christmas without her. I knew she had sent gifts, but I would've traded every gift I'd ever received if we could just be together for this one, too.

I joined my classmates and shoved clenched hands deep in my pockets. Singing Christmas carols was the last thing I felt like doing, but Debbie's nudge and smile reminded me of my duty. I looked at the lady I'd knelt beside and found her watching me, her knotted knuckles pressed to her lips as if she was willing me the courage to sing. After several attempts, my voice finally made it past the tennis ball that was wedged in my throat.

I sang, returning the smiles of the old people as they joined in with their rusty voices. Debbie was right. They didn't care that I sang half in Spanish and half in English, and they couldn't have cared less about my bad voice. They were hungry for smiles and a touch of Christmas joy to brighten and warm their cold lives.

Time after time my gaze returned and found her eyes on me. She'd smile and nod, her lips mutely moving. “Oh santisimo, felicisimo, grato tiempo de Navidad! Cristo el prometido, ha por fin venido: alegria, alegria, cristiandad!*” Christ, the promised One—the reason we celebrate Christmas. The reason my family had left home, so others could know Him, too.

Tears ran down the crevices that time had etched on her face, but her eyes shone. She pulled out a hankie edged with green lace and patted her cheeks dry before drawing the edges of her shawl close again.

After singing, we handed out the small candy bags we had made for them, and I returned to her chair, kneeling beside her again.

“Feliz Navidad,” I said as I gave her the bag, marveling at the pleasure the small gift gave her. I wondered when she had last received a gift, or even a piece of candy.

She looked into my eyes, as only a grandmother can, and pulled out another hankie, edged in purple lace and neatly folded. She pressed it into my hand. “For when you cry. Feliz Navidad, hijita.**” When she gently cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead, her hand was so cold it almost stung my face. At that moment I knew exactly what I was going to do and I felt the joy we had just sung about—Christmas joy.

I took off my sweater, gently wrapped it around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her wet cheek. With the hankie she had given me, I dried her tears. “Gracias.”

*****
This is a Christmas story that comes from my years in Ecuador. Although the setting and the condition of the 'old folks home' is close to how I remember it (LoL, realizing my memory of some things is sketchy), the rest is fiction--I was so overwhelmed that first year I was in Ecuador, that I never thought to do such a thing. Looking back, I can easily picture Debbie doing this--and yes, there is a Debbie--she is definitely not ficticious!

Next week we'll be doing 'Fiction Friday Favorites' since it will be the day after Christmas.
Merry Christmas!

*”Oh Santisimo” A Spanish Christmas carol
**Merry Christmas, little one.

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For Love

Although this will be my last missions post for my Missions Matter! blog giveaway, I will be posting (sometime) about my years in Ecuador--after I figure out how to use a scanner and scan in some of our old photos. I had wanted to post it before this, but time has not cooperated with me, so I'll just post it later since I'll be still doing some missions posts. *grin* Be sure to come back Wednesday afternoon to see who the winners are for my birthday gifts!


This year Allan and Pearl Jackson celebrate 8 years of working with abandoned youth in Manta, Ecuador, and 2 ½ years since Montañita Verde Children’s Homes was built.
Not only do they administrate the children's homes, they are working with the Manta City Dump Community and the many other ministries of the Por Amor Foundation. Both Allan and Pearl were brought up in Ecuador as Mks and their love for the people is so very evident. Allan worked as a contractor, while Pearl administrated the orphanage, but now they are 'full time' at the Children's Homes.

Por Amor Foundation
Foundation For Love
By Allan Jackson

Nothing is as simple as it looks.  And it is not easy, but since we decided on full time work with orphans and abandoned kids, we are just plain happy.  This work, and the Children's homes, have survived at times day to day, mostly month to month, not knowing at times where food etc. will come from, and yet we are all here and fine.  All because of many others who I consider true partners in raising and reaching kids that otherwise would have no home and little hope.  It all means nothing if not done for higher reasons than just humanitarian effort.  We cannot speak of this without pointing skyward and thanking our gracious Creator, Friend and Bringer of Hope. (LoL--is bringer a word?) 

Here are two of my latest concerns that keep me up at night. (What keeps you up at night?)

We plan to open Home 2 soon--Lord willing. There are tons of needs, but we are thankful that good interim house parents are in place.  We still will be needing to find the monthly support for this house raising 14 kids--equipped to house at least 5 babies.  House one is housing 17--3 more than what it was made for.

There's also a new project using up my brainwaves.
Project Soup Kitchen --Barrio Los Esteros, Manta
Here's a prayer item that can be voiced over this next year as we proceed. 
I met with Giovany, who is the pastor of a small church planting work of our church. This fairly new church (they have been meeting for a few years) is located right down where the rubber meets the common road--close to downtown and yet in the industrial tuna packing plant neighborhood. This has been a red light district, and has been a bit of a shady place.  The building was built to be a small fish packing plant and they started renting the building a year ago, giving them a building to meet in.

It is unfinished, and some of us, along with our pastor Velez, are asking God to provide the money to buy and finish it. The third floor will be ours, the Por Amor Foundation, to set up as a soup kitchen specifically for drug kids living on the streets. Currently no one does anything for these cases here and this will be a first step until we develop relationships and see need for taking some in...which will not be in Montañita Verde, but a different home. --Anyhow, we are in beginnings of this so I don't know all the details... God knows. This has come about because I have had this desire for many years and have not been able to reach these kids that no one wants.  And now "coincidentally" I have met others with same desire.  Too much coincidence to be accident.

The second floor will be a clinic for ladies since most of the thousands working for these tuna plants are women. The church seeks to draw them to God by ministering to medical needs--this is a group of doctors from our local church--they are also wanting to tackle an HIV/AIDS clinic--I will also be fund raising to finish off clinic.

I had a meeting with our Salvation Army brethren who have moved into the area two years ago, the Captain is new, actually she's a captainette and she's Aussie. She has seen this need also, is supportive of these efforts, and willing to send personnel for training in dealing with addict kids. Well, there are too many coincidences on this one, different Christians from all different walks, meeting and wanting to push towards this.

I'm not asking for folks to switch focus away from Montanita Verde Children's Homes, just simply to pray for this effort and keep us in mind.  Right now our focus is on opening Home 2---Keep people praying about that also!
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This is a clip that a visiting church posted on you tube after visiting Montañita Verde Children’s Homes. Also listed there is a clip about the dump ministry that Por Amor is involved in: http://www.youtube.com/PorAmorEcuador

Pearl is a mother of four and works at Por Amor Foundation office each day.  She is the Executive Director of Por Amor, so she has way too many responsibilities--I don't know how she does it, but, that's just our Pearl.  She spends her spare time enjoying school activities with other parents, hanging out with family at home, doing farm chores together, and painting toe nails every fifteen days.

Allan is the gopher, builder, cleaner, secretary, Director's Assistant and let's not forget the "Joe the Plumber", the Grounds Logistics, and Construccion Manager.  He stepped down from the president position a year ago, so as not to have to attend as many meetings.  Now they call him Director of Construction and Maintenance (titles are very important here), but really he's just the kid's favorite uncle.  He's got the guys raising chickens and pigs currently.  The local university is helping teach agriculture on the small farm which also part of Montañita Verde.  Allan likes to ride bicycles with his boys around Montecristi, ride Honda 650 XRL up northern coast, and most of all, when not overly busy, every 3 months, fishing the Cojimies Inlet.
********

This is a ministry that has been on my heart since I first reconnected with Allan a couple of years ago when our class was getting ready for our class reunion--which is tough to do when everyone is, literally, scattered around the world. I love hearing how God has worked in his life, and how God is using his family. Be sure to check out Por Amor Foundation.

Missions Matter! ~Blog Giveaway coming November 12th!

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Crossing the Double Yellow Line

A Missions Matter! blog giveaway post!

Every time I think life is getting back to normal it throws another challenge at me. I think that maybe I should quit hoping for normalacy--whaddya think?

At the beginning of my 40 days of celebration, Rich and Lisa Brown sent in some articles, and I posted Lisa's Forgotten People article right away, but every time I've gone to post this one, something else has come in, so I've saved it. This is a story I got to experience on the praying grapevine end--which is the best grapevine to be involved in. My friend, Debbie, forwarded an email to me about Rich being in jail, and I (and my family) began praying for him. Not just for him to get out quickly, but that good would come from it. This post shows how God answered both of those prayers.

Crossing the Double Yellow Line
By Rich Brown

As I strolled along in my car I knew that today would be an easy day. All I had to do was go about another 30 minutes and I would surprise Aaron, a Peruvian musician recording in Cayambe, Ecuador. It was his birthday. I would take he and the other two guys out to eat and make it special for them even though they were far from home.

There was a gas truck going so slow up the hill, that three cars in front of me passed it on the corner, and I followed behind. When I came to the corner, crossing back in front of the gas truck, I noticed that the dotted yellow line was now a double yellow line (NO PASSING ALLOWED). I quickly slowed down in front of the gas truck, just as I heard a car honking his horn. He was very angry. I pulled over so he could pass me, but he was dressed in a Colonel uniform and motioned for me to follow him to the police.

When we got to the police, the Colonel made it clear that they were to put me in jail for what I did, passing on the double yellow line. In Ecuador, it is against the law, with penalty of minimum 30 days in jail for passing on a double yellow line. He threatened to put the two policemen in jail if they did not put me in jail. He copied my information and said, “I will check tonight to see if you put this man in jail.”

I quickly called, and text messaged all my friends. The ones who I was supposed to surprise thought I was faking it and this was all part of the surprise. I finally convinced them to come and pick up my car and take it to a safe place.

People from all over the country started calling me, some trying to help, others saying they knew someone that could help, and others just wanted to visit me and keep me company.

The jail was filled with about 60 people in one big room with 30 bunk beds. I had to pay $20 for the bed, and quickly did as I saw that the beds were filling up fast. I was able to get to know others who were there, most from drinking and driving, or driving without a license. I played cards with the guys and spent a lot of time reading, writing and praying.

My devotions that day were on Romans 12. I sat on my bunk and read it with different eyes. All of it brought on new meaning. “Don’t think of yourself higher than you ought…” and many other verses that stuck out in my mind. It talks about us being the body of Christ with different gifts. I decided right away to sacrifice things right in jail. Every meal I got, I made sure I shared half of it with someone else (food is not provided for you in jail in Ecuador, you have to find family or friends that will provide it for you.

Miracles happened as the lawyers worked the system to try to get me out. They knew that my wife and son were in Canada visiting her parents, and I was supposed to be taking care of my other three kids. Thanks to Heather Martin, our intern, they were in good hands.

We went to the hearing, and on the way the policeman that had to accompany us said, “that same Colonel put me in jail for sitting down for five minutes on the job. I had been standing for 7 hours straight.” I said, “you know what, God put me in jail, not the Colonel.” I had learned that God was doing something in me and in the men around me in Jail.

God worked another miracle as the secretary that took down my information said, “I am also evangelical. I go to the Alliance Church in the Valley.” I said, “Really! My parents helped start the mother church to that one.” We started talking about all of the pastors we knew etc. She heard my story and said, “You will be back with your kids tonight.” I said, “I hope so.” She said, “You will. The man in there that has to sign all the papers also attends the Alliance Church in the Valley. My lawyer’s mouth dropped open. He is not a Christian but he said, “Even with all of my contacts to try to get you out, you were supposed to serve 15 more working days. But who would have thought that God would help us out today.”


I was only in jail three days. I got home and had a party at our house. There were two women from the women’s prison here in Quito, Ecuador who were out on bail, who were baptized right in our apartment complex. We celebrated together. I didn’t say a word about my 3 days in jail; these women had been in prison for years.

Inca Link Ecuador, and Soul Light Link are organizations working closely with the Alliance that are now making plans to find jobs for people in the prisons of Ecuador. This will give them an opportunity to work, not be bored, and live a more dignified life. One youth leader said, “I have several machines to make clothes, I will donate them for this ministry.” Another said, “Our church is going into the men’s jail now every Thursday night to do a Bible Study.” Another one said, “My Dad just did a leadership training in the women’s jail.

Crossing the double yellow line changed my life forever. It was not the Colonel that put me there, it was God. Now, I expect to be more involved in jail ministry. Finding ways to help those who were where I was. And, I don’t plan on passing on the double yellow line any more.
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Rich Brown and his wife, Lisa, served with the C&MA in Lima & Trujillo, Peru, from 1994 to 2004. Now they are in Ecuador working with Youth Leaders in Ecuador, Peru and Colombia. To learn more check out Inca Link.

Missions Matter! ~Blog Giveaway coming November 12th!

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Feeling Linky, too!

We're to the final countdown to the giveaway (and of course, to my birthday). There's just ten days left to join in the fun—I'd love the help in celebrating!

October is finally over, and it went out with a bang. Our church puts on a children's carnival every year and we get to help. It's great fun spending time working with, and playing with, our church friends, but it makes for a very busy week. I've also had some cleaning projects going on here at home, and to be honest, I'm really tired! My parents come for a visit tomorrow and I can't wait. I'm looking forward to relaxing and visiting with them—it's a treat we don't often get!

In the past ten days, since my first Linky post, I've had some more great missions posts come in that I want to share with you. These are just the ones that are new.

Sharon wrote about Women on the Edge, a great sounding book.

Debby told us about her mom's great faith while in the jungle in Up the River.

Gerda sent me a post about their trip to Cuba where they can take in Bibles 12 At a Time.

Karen posted about a missions book they're reading to their kids about Cameron Townsend--Wysliffe Founder, and how it made an impression on them--they're currently in Russia, and I've loved following her these last several months!

In When I Grow Up, Danielle told us about when she was little--and how she's doing part of her dream in Spain.

Yvonne posted a short story she wrote, Nando is Home, which is based on a story a missionary told her.

Kim let me repost an email she sent me--I loved hearing about the Lasting Impact her parents had on people who were saved while they were ministering in Peru. (She, and her family, are missionaries in Peru.)

Tracy shared her Mexico Mission Trip Memories with us and told how she came to have a special souvenir.

I also posted Joyously Abandoned with excerpts from Green Leaf in Drought. What an impact it's had on my life!

Don't forget: November 12th, around noon or so, I'll be doing the drawing for the blog giveaway—so the announcement will be sometime that afternoon. Help me celebrate by posting about missions!

Missions Matter! ~Blog Giveaway coming November 12th!

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As Simple as a Smile ~Fiction Friday

Welcome to Fiction Friday! This week our host is Lynda, at On the Write Track. You are more than welcome to join us there for links to more fun fiction--whether you write fiction or just enjoy reading it. Invite your friends to join you!

As Simple as a Smile
“This isn't open for discussion, Suze. It's decided. These people asked us to come and that's what we're here for, planting churches--even if it means climbing this mountain every week.” Bob glanced over at his daughter then shifted into granny-low for another steep grade as they wound up the mountain.

Susan huddled against the door, arms crossed tightly across her stomach. I hate being the odd-ball. Everyone stares at me and all the ladies touch my hair. Having blond hair is such a pain. I wish it was black like everyone else's here; then I wouldn't stick out so much... I wish...

Just then they rounded a curve and the village came into view. It was tucked into a fold of the mountain, clinging there, like gray ivy. Susan's arms tightened even more as her anxiety grew. I hope they don't make fun of me.

“You know, Suze, it's as simple as a smile.”

Susan turned her blue eyes to her mother. “It might be that simple in the States, Mom, but here I stick out like a sore thumb.”

Her mom gave her a squeeze. “Then let's pray you find a special friend here.”

That'd be nice, God. I could use a friend, and a special friend would be even better.

Bob maneuvered the truck through the narrow cobblestoned streets and parked beside a mud wall with broken glass shards embedded in its top. A stooped old man shuffled out the gate with an equally aged lady just a step behind him. Their faces radiated joy as tears trickled into the crevices on their faces. “We've prayed for this for almost 20 years. Welcome to our home. Please, come and join us.”

With shuffling steps they were escorted to a living room where people sat on vinyl furnishings. Susan nervously glanced around as she trailed after her parents. On the far side of the room a girl her age sat on a sofa, smiling at her, and she patted the space beside her when their eyes met. Maybe she'll ignore my hair. Susan followed her parents as they circled the room, greeting each person, as was customary, and she didn't even mind when an older lady pulled her down for a kiss on the cheek and a pat on her hair before allowing her to move on to the smiling girl.

“Buenos dias. Me llamo Susana,” Susan said with a smile for the girl, just as she'd said to everyone. Her heart was beating so fast it took her a moment to realize the eyes she was looking into were a deep blue.

“Buenos dias. I'm Marta. Sit here beside me.” Marta gently tugged Susan's hand, giggling. “I'm so glad you have blue eyes, too,” she whispered. “Abuelita assured me you wouldn't think I'm strange because of my eyes.”

“People think you're strange?” Susan whispered back, surprised.

“Si, because I'm a Christian and I have blue eyes they've even called me a witch.” Marta's eyes clouded briefly, but then cleared. “But I can tell that you don't think I'm strange. You understand.”

The girls shared a smile as the old man raised his hands, waiting. Marta leaned close once again. “My grandfather, Cristobal,” she said with a fond smile toward the old man.

“Gracias,” Cristobal said through tears. “My family has prayed for many years and today God has answered. Each week we will meet here, at this same hour, for a time of teaching and worship with our brothers and sisters. Bring your neighbors and friends; they are always welcome in my home.” Cristobal held out a hand to Bob. “Hermano Roberto, please, come and lead us.” The men clasped hands, then embraced, as they exchanged places.

Bob stepped forward with a smile. “In the days after Jesus ascended into heaven the Christians met in small groups, much like this one. Being here with you is an honor as well as an answer to our prayers--thank you for asking us to join you. Our God is a great God, answering the prayers of His children.”

Marta reached over and squeezed Susan's hand.
Maybe Mom is right. Maybe it is as simple as a smile.
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Although this piece is pure fiction, the church in Checa, Ecuador, did first meet in the home of Cristobal and Angelica, and these characters are pretty true to that couple, as well as their home. It was this couple, with Manuel and Elvia, that asked my parents to start a church in their town--and my husband and I had the privilege of joining a team to help enlarge the church building my dad built just before leaving. God answered the prayers of His faithful children and the church that grew out of their prayers now sends out missionaries of their own. God is so good!

Don't forget to join us at On the Write Track for links to more great fiction!

Missions Matter! ~Blog Giveaway coming November 12th!

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Lasting Impact

A Missions Matter! blog giveaway post!
By Kim Roof, missionary in Lima, Peru.

I could be here all month writing about the things God has done, and is doing! God is awesome!

I'm on a trip right now with my husband in Arequipa, Peru, where my parents were missionaries for about 8 years. I lived here for several of those years before going to Alliance Academy. My husband and I were just visiting a friend of our family, a lady that used to take care of my brothers and I when my parents had to travel...a dear godly woman. Her son was telling of how he will never forget the impact the missionaries had on his life back in 1970. My parents, among other missionaries, were some of the pioneers here in Peru that held open-air campaigns every night to raise up churches in areas where there weren't any. I remember sitting in those open-air campaigns and watching people come to Christ, and seeing people being healed, and hearing all the other stories my parents always tell me--I can say that my parents are my heroes! To tell you the truth, I don't know how they made it as missionaries here in Peru back in the 70's. All I know is that they had a tremendous faith in their God!

I never thought of returning to Peru, where my parents had been missionaries, but since I've been here over these past 15 years, I never fail to run into someone that got saved under my parent's ministry or was touched in some way by their lives. They are still living for God, and some are in the ministry today because of the impact my parent's ministry had on them. That really blesses me because I know that our labor as missionaries is not in vain! It's God that does the work in people's lives, but He uses willing vessels (like us) to reach those people. So, wherever you are (I'm talking to missionaries around the world...even in the U.S.), keep up the good work and don't grow weary or give up. Many lives have been touched, are still being touched, and still have to be touched by you!
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Tom and Kim Roof have been missionaries since 1992 and founded Followers of Christ International soon after they were married. After language school and serving in Mexico, they moved to Peru and have been working in coordination with the Church 'Camino de Vida' with Pastors Robert and Karyn Barriger. Their initial assignment was to be directors of the Bible School of Camino de Vida for 6 years, and then have been in full time children's ministry since they year 2000. During this time their children, Daniel and Charity, were both born in the country of Peru.
The Roofs are responsible for a nationwide children's ministry, Corazones en Accion (Hearts in Action International of Mario and Suzanne Babarczy) through which they do evangelistic events, teacher training workshops, children's congresses and minister in schools and churches, and also present a faith based program called 'STOP' that teaches children how to prevent sexual abuse. Their vision and heart's desire is to reach the children and young people of Peru, and raise up the church of Jesus Christ in Latin America and in the Nations.

Missions Matter! ~Blog Giveaway coming November 12th!

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